Dominion Dire Consequences | BotM Dominion of Copero / Sarvchi

[Michael Barran]

Post #1
THE_DRUID
THE HIGHLAND BROTHERHOOD
Objective 3: RAVAGE THE REFUGE
Tags: A'Runda

​

'Haud oan....'

Slipping through the ruins of a frontier world that their generation had never known, the Highlanders of Galidraan III would find themselves needing to defer to the former-exiles for insight on Sarvchi in particular, though the intel would still be quite scant going forward. Lord Michael wanted his battalion behaving more like an assault-group than the militiamen they had been before their deployment to Carlac and Lao-Mon, but their arrival (and what the troops scouting ahead would find) would grant the Highland Brotherhood all the intel they needed as they delved farther into the already-embattled wilderness of Sarvchi, finding corpses from both sides of a fight that looked to have been raging on for days on end already. From the headless bodies of Mawsworn raiders and marauders alike, to the burning, blue-skinned husks of the Chiss who stood to defy their seemingly-endless assault, many had fallen in the hours, or perhaps even in the days leading up to the Wanderer's frontier-deployment, but it soon became obvious that they weren't the only living souls in the area.

'We know where it's happening, but there's a trail o' destruction to follow aw'ready.... Right this way, Milord. The sector's covered quite well.'

Hearing screams, grunts of exertion and disruptor-fire in the east, McBain would return from that same direction with eyebrow raised and encouragement to follow and observe the hostilities from a respectable distance. With the rest of the battalion in tow, the Wanderer would opt to find out exactly what was happening at that point, just as curious as everyone else was, and just as eager to turn the tide of battle on the Maw at any given moment also. In the dark, billowing smoke of wrecked and exploded vehicles, the former-revolutionaries of the Highland Brotherhood would sneak through the landscape in a relatively wide formation in complete silence until the unmistakably terrifying sound of a Tusken war-cry rang out across the valley, booming out with blood-curdling intensity from fewer than 300 metres away. Whatever was transpiring, the sharpshooters among them would be close enough to see it through the scopes of their SA-65s, and from there, it wouldn't be long before accurate directions were passed down the line.

<"All units, this is Barran. Ordering all of Argyll Company to fall in on my current position, I want to see this mad Tusken fella in action.... The other three companies will scout farther afield for potential threats. Cairn One out!">​

'YORUNARR!!!! YOU'RE UP!!!! MIGHT HAVE A LINGUAL CHALLENGE OR TWO WITH THIS ONE!!!!'

 

[Zahara Myneto]

// OUTRIDER // Battlegroup Andor
// LOCATION // ANV "Morai", Copero System
// OBJECTIVE // Crush Sularen, Of Course
// THEME // Heathens
​

It felt like yesterday. The celebrations, the toppling of Sith statues on Bastion, the end of the Stygian Campaign. Millions died fighting not for their own freedom, but the freedom of the trillions under the Tenth Sith Empire. The fleets of the Alliance had been turned toward the Mid Rim, and the campaigns that followed had made even the most green of soldiers veterans. All the while, the Brotherhood lurked in the Unknown Regions.

Cssila could've been prevented.

Politics aside, the Corellian Admiral was sure if the Alliance had deployed an expeditionary force to the Unknown Regions, the cultist Brotherhood could've been detected, could've been defeated long before they set their fiendish eyes on the Chiss. How many died? How many were still running, fleeing the graveyard that was once the singular superpower of the east? Then there was the matter of the Imperial's who gleefully sided with the dark maw. Sellouts to bad guys, the lot of them

The first alarms went ignored, however. The Chiss were left to their own devices, Outbound Flight patrols ignorant of the massive threat approaching what was, for all intents and purposes, the heart of what remained of Chiss Space. The second alarms couldn't be missed. Literally. The Judiciary would learn better, never leave your shields down for no reason.

Battlegroup Andor would arrive in force, elements of the expeditionary forces Task Force Gilding Light being lead by the dreadnought Moari, it's gleaming black hull dotted with battery after battery of Mass Drivers and Turbolasers. Though not the most powerful of the Alliance's dreadnoughts, it still packed a punch. Escort Frigates surrounded the dark behemoth, buzzing like flies. With a firm nod, the Admiral stood with a commanding posture before speaking clearly into the holo-transceiver "Attention Mawite Vessels, this is Admiral Zahara Myento of the dreadnought Morai"

"Withdraw" Simple enough, a demand that would likely be received by the Imperial Vessels lurking in the background. Sularen, maybe? "Or face the full fury of Battlegroup Andor"

Marlon Sularen | Tu'teggacha | Nyree Pavan (Alt)​

 

[Solan Halcyon]

Objective II: Protect and Evacuate the Skywalkers
Location: Surface of Copero, near the Sky-Walker Hideout
Tags: Open

Purpose​

As soon as the C-ROC Touched down near the coordinates Arliana, Sala's main contact in the unknown regions, had given her, the Jedi lept from the loading ramp, sword drawn and eyes focused. Following the draw of the young force sensitives nearby, as well as the encroaching forces of Sith and the rest of their like who threatened the young girls of the Sky-Walker Corps. Hoping the transmission she had sent from orbit, announcing her presence and intent to the Chiss, had gone through, Sala focused the force behind her and lept into the hideout, landing gracefully between the resisting Chiss and the marauding hordes of darksiders that had invaded the planet.

Deftly dodging the crossfire, Sala steeled her will until it mirrored her blade, and then focused her courage and resolve into the force, strengthening her connection to it and likewise increasing her body's capacity in every way. Finding herself centered in the light side of the force, and feeling it flow within her from head to toe, Sala struck a stance similar to a Jedi using Ataru, centering her blade with one of the Sith in front of her and staring them directly in the eye.


"You'll have to go through me to take these children."

 

[Tren Chaar]

D E N I A L

COPERO ORBIT
B-WING HEAVY STARFIGHTER​

---

---

“Launch, launch, launch.”

Galactic Alliance starfighters swarmed from the launch bays of Battlegroup Andor and formed up into their squadrons. Once grouped, they broke by mission - either sticking close to the Alliance fleet to provide anti-starfighter support or hurtling toward the Brotherhood vessels to hold them back. A much smaller third group dove toward the shipyards.

The Alliance could not win the day by any stretch of the definition. The onslaught of the Maw through the neighbouring systems was such as retreat was their only option, taking with them everything and everyone who could be saved. High Command had given its orders, and the evacuation of the shipyards was almost complete. Revenant Squadron was here to inflict as much damage and carnage on the enemy as they could.

But their target wasn't the Brotherhood ships. Their target was much higher value.

A message scrolled across Chaar’s console - the last evaluation shuttle was away. While the Umbaran preferred fighting an enemy that could shoot back, this would undoubtedly be the biggest target Revenant had ever taken down.

The Brotherhood fleets were in-system, but had elected to slowly approach the shipyards. That gave Revenant Squadron room to work without interference. Admiral Myneto in his Super Star Defender would try to hold the Brotherhood back long enough for them to complete their mission. Chaar’s tactical computer climbed as the massive Chiss stardocks came into range. He cycled a pair of high-explosive proton torpedoes and placed his targeting reticle over a structural weak point provided by the Chiss engineers.

“Revenant, light ‘em up,” he ordered as he squeezed the trigger.

Revenant Squadron: Six: Dani Stellaris | Seven: Leon Gallo | Eight: Len Vert | Ten: Qellene Tyliame
Battlegroup Andor: Zahara Myneto
Brotherhood of the Maw: Tu'teggacha | Isabella Pavan | Marlon Sularen​

 

[Lyssa Io]

Wearing: Nothing

Armed with: Herself, Lightsaber, Ion Relic Pistol

With: Westenra Mina (Melissa, Melita, Melody Io)

Nuetralizer Model 1 (40)

Possible guest: Esmeralda Io

Equipment: Model 1 Disruptor

M-45 Repeating Ion Blaster

Plasma Grenades

Sonic Grenades

Objective: Save Sky-Walkers (Lyssa), Refuge Relief (Io Sisters)


Hours earlier.

Rhand had been lost in a desperate gambit by Mother that hadn't worked. The blood of thousands of slaves and her own allies was on her hands. She had destroyed the World Ship, but the price had been too high.

None of her former allies in the CIS saw the need for total unrelenting, savage war against the Maw. In Laertia's eyes it made them cowards. Only the EE had the stomach to do what was necessary for victory. So to the EE, Laertia had gone, bent on inflicting any damage she could against the two biggest threats to the Galaxy, and then getting revenge on the fools who had stood in the way of necessity.

Lyssa, for her part, wasn't certain she fully believed all of mother's rhetoric. But as she read the reports of the spies from the comfort of Zakuul, how the Brotherhood planned to do to Copero what they did to Rhand, she couldn't help but wonder if Mother truly had a point that where the Maw was concerned, no savagery was too great to inflict in order to stop them.

She had decided to go for herself. And she was bringing her Aunt Melissa with her.

Lyssa did not feel compassion for people in great amounts the way her Aunt could. Her emotions were muted except where Family, particularly her Mother, was concerned. But even her emotions, dull as they were in most cases, felt nothing but disgust and hatred towards the Maw.

She would take a mild pleasure in gutting them like the dogs they were.

Lyssa's quarters aboard the Sarka Class Frigate, The Blood of Vjun, were sparse, utilitarian save photos of her mother and extended family. The photos were the only thing that held any value to her.

She was old enough to remember when Syd was the love of her Mother's life. How Mother had grown more obsessed, more vindictive with every fight, win or lose.

She had no answer for her mother's pain then, and certainly didn't now. She was trying to be a good daughter, and she knew Mother wanted to be a good Mother. She knew that.

But how can one be a good mother when trying, at the same time, to get revenge on the Jedi Order. Xiphos hated the the Maw and wished to see it destroyed by any means available. But she didn't consider it revenge. Business mixed with pleasure, certainly, and only somewhat personal.

But with the Jedi Order it was utterly personal.

Mother didn't want to rule the Galaxy. She didn't want to be an Empress. Mother had lived as a pure criminal for years before ever picking up a Lightsaber. She had seen what she could get away with just using a knife and a bit of ruthlessness. She had watched as Crime Lords, supposedly uncrushable, had been crushed. She had simply learned to apply that to all of politics. Empires and Republics fall. Even House Io would someday be nothing but a memory. All things fade in time. She considered it blasphemy that the Maw would try to speed it up, simply because they were ultimately just losers this universe didn't have a use for. Their supposed champions would have come to nothing better elsewhere. If they hadn't started using the promise of their Dark Gods as a convenient excuse to rail against their own irrelevance by killing for mere promises, empty promises at that, they would have been rightfully ignored.

Lyssa wondered what their paradise even looked like, in their heads. Would such a people who had done the things they had done even merit paradise, true paradise? Their paradise would likely look like just more of the same hell they had made of everything else around them before dying. (Interestingly, this was similar to the opinion Darth Phyre had of the Maw: If she were their Dark Gods, she would have made a tacit point not to honor any promise made, and just stick them in Hell as playthings to taunt about what suckers they were, taking a Dark God at their word.)

Lyssa rose from her bed, having been staring at her photos of Mother for an hour. She didn't need rest, didn't need sleep, but wanted a bed because organics have beds, and it made her feel Organic.

She checked her weapons. Her Ion Relic Pistol was self built, but the Lightsaber, a green bladed weapon, had come from Mother, then she went to her Aunt's quarters to find her.

Melissa, first of the Blonde, gold skinned Io Sisters, flesh molded to make it look like she wore a skintight metallic golden catsuit, had laid out a large plastic sheath on the floor and had cut her left arm off and severed it into two separate parts. Her arm was already regrowing.

It was Melissa who had given Laertia the sample of her own flesh that Laertia had used to create Lyssa. Even now, even after Rhand, Melissa was devoted still, if heartbroken that Xiphos had made that choice to kill all those slaves and her own allies just to destroy Gihinnom. But she believed Gihinnom's destruction as necessary as Xiphos did.

Lyssa felt strange, being advanced as she was, but yet not as advanced as her Aunt. But her Aunt was so advanced even Mother feared how she would fair in a real fight against a Westenra Copy. Any Westenra Copy. Even Lyssa elicited a similar wariness in Xiphos, though she hid it well.

After having seen Melissa fight, Lyssa herself knew she was playing catch-up. But she did love her Aunt: She and Cameron Crownwraithe had a particular rapport with her out of all the other Matriarchs.

Melissa spotted Lyssa.

"Lysandra!" Melissa called out happily, leaving the chunks of herself still leaking glowing red blood on the plastic tarp as she stepped over them.

"Hello, Aunt Melissa. May I ask what you're doing?" Lyssa said.

"Growing new Sisters. I've developed more advanced programming for my cellular structure. I've loaded it onto these samples..." Melissa explained, going to get a gamma ray lamp.

Melissa looked at the samples.

"What's it like, being essentially immortal?" Lyssa asked as Melissa shined the gamma light on the samples.

The severed chunks of her arm grew into Molasses like tissue and began to grow...

While it did, Melissa sat on her bed with Lyssa.

"Well Niece... that's a difficult question to answer." Melissa said. "I know in some way, I'm immortal...but I will never be aware of it, truly."

"Why not?" Lyssa asked earnestly.

"Because the...immortality...that our creator's gave to us is limited. We are only immortal in the sense that small pieces of us, left behind, can grow into another us. But when we ourselves die... that's it for us. The best way you'll ever know what it's like to be immortal...is to come back from a reserve sample."

Lyssa watched as the pieces grew larger, forming muscles and veins.

"Do we have souls? Like Organics?" Lyssa asked.

"I ask that every time I find out another copy of me died somewhere..." Melissa admitted. "Still don't have an answer...and you won't either...when it first happens to you..."

Lyssa hadn't really given a thought to her own mortality before that moment. She knew she wasn't invincible. But what Melissa had said just now crystalized it for her for the first time.

Even Mother was not invincible. Mother might even be going insane as she doubled down against the whole Galaxy, as much out of mad spite as her own twisted sense of justice.

The obsidian skeletons of the two new copies formed, standing up as the flesh began to cover them

"If I have a soul...is it tainted with me constantly killing people?" Lyssa asked.

Melissa looked right into Lyssa's eyes.

"Right or Wrong, it's a brand..." she said quietly. "A brand that sticks..." (No more guns in the Valley: 90 XP)

The flesh on the new copies finished growing, taking on the same gold catsuit look Melissa had, but took on different facial features. Both were blonde, like Melissa, however.

"Lyssa, allow me to introduce your two newest aunt's..." Melissa said as the pair opened their eyes.

"Melita, and Melody Io."

Melita squee'd in delight as she saw Lyssa, being the first to hug the junior Assassin, followed by Melody.

"I have the weirdest family in the whole Galaxy..." Lyssa said under her breath, basking in the attention.

But it will make me fight those Maw Bastards all the harder to come home to them.


Present:

They had gone to separate deployments. 20 had gone with Lyssa, 20 had gone with Melissa to rescue people from the Maw at another planet close by.

Lyssa and team of the lethal Model 1 Nuetralizers had braved anti-space craft fire in their Assassin Class Corvette to reach the hide out of Skywalkers. The only reason the Chiss had let her through was because of what Xiphos did at Oyokai, desperately trying to rescue Chiss people from the Maw's spiteful delusions of another, better universe.

The only reason they're fighting so hard for another universe is because they're too lazy to try and save 'this' one... Lyssa thought to herself.

They had jumped out of the bay using rocket packs and the Model 1's, eager to expand their knowledge of how to kill Maw Warriors properly, were even more eager to reach the ground than Lyssa was.

They landed gently close to the outpost where Lyssa's spies, her less sophisticated Advanced Model 1 sisters had reported the outpost.

The goal of Lyssa was this: Offer to take as many Sky-Walker's with them as possible along with their elite Chiss Security while fighting the Maw. Hopefully Esmeralda and the sirens or even Cameron might show as eventual reinforcements. If not, Lyssa was no slouch at murder, as the NIO had learned at Generis.

She wirelessly directed 007 Model 1's to take up sniping positions at certain points in the ruins to hinder the Maw as much as possible. The Model 1's not as required to carry Anti-Bryn'adul Weaponry as much as previously, had opted to take the M-45 Repeater (They were having a mild love affair with this weapon). Every other weapon would be procure-on-sighting.

Lyssa and her own team of Model 1's began making their way to the outpost as the Sniper Units began to open fire at targets of opportunity, making a special point to aim at grenades, rockets, and Det Charges, causing terrible explosions to erupt amongst the invading Maw attacking the sanctuary. They stayed behind cover, gunning down Maw who spotted their position with sadistic enthusiasm.

Lyssa and her team soon began encountering Maw Brotherhood warriors on their own, one enemy unit having already blasted open a section of wall into the outpost when they spotted Lyssa, who had morphed her appearance to look like she wore a metallic silver catsuit.

Her arms formed into blades, and she rushed forward at the warriors, blades ripping and tearing into their flesh, her brothers taking advantage and heading in first to start killing every Maw feth they could get their hands on, Lyssa following soon after.

If she died, she would be the only one getting rebirth...

Lyssa found ths inside terribly packed. The Chiss defenders hesitated when they saw her saving a defense position at the last moment from being overrun by brutally cutting apart the Maw, because they had been told she was coming.

Xiphos, even though she failed to save Csilla, and had only managed to save a few hundred at best at Oyokai, had sort of made friends out of the Chiss for at least trying.

The Model 1's inside were right in their element, as there were very few places to hide for the attackers as they established choke points, unrestrained in their brutality as they violently hacked apart or blasted Maw Warriors. Lyssa, however, had more pressing matters...

The Mongrel

Halketh

Klassht Hsirsi

 

[Marlon Sularen]

COPERO , CHISS SPACE
Onboard the Predator...
Objective - Protect the Shipyards from the Alliance.

High Overseer Sularen, we have received confirmation from High Admiral Pavan. All is ready. You may begin the assault, and our fleets will support you."

"Very well , Taskmaster. We shall begun our assault at once." Sularen said in response before closing the channel with Tu'teggacha. Everything was set , now the Maw simply need to overwhelm the defenses and secure the Shipyards , which could become yet another valuable asset for the Shadow Hand Initiative. "All Vessels of Terror Squadron , begin deployment of Starfighters and Bombers for the Assault on the Shipyards and begin high speed approach towards the Shipyards." Sularen ordered from his Command Chair onboard the Predator. Within seconds , the Vessels of Terror Squadron had begun accelerating towards the Shipyards picking up speed as they prepared their attack on the Shipyards as the First set of Starfighters emerged from the Hangars charging towards the Shipyards.

Then suddenly , a massive Fleet emerged from Hyperspace right infront of them spearheaded by a massive Ten-kilometer Warship which Sularen immediately recognized. The Morai , Flagship of the Famous Battlegroup Andor which had been a thorn on his side for a while now. Then the image of Admiral Myneto , the Commander of Battlegroup Andor appeared on the bridge of the Predator with the Admiral sending an Ultimatum to the Mawite Assault Fleet.

"Attention Mawite Vessels, this is Admiral Zahara Myento of the dreadnought Morai. Withdraw Or face the full fury of Battlegroup Andor"

The Full fury of Battlegroup Andor huh? Sularen thought. The Maw Irregular had faced Battlegroup Andor numerous times and had yet to lose an engagement with them. But now , he would teach Admiral Myneto the proper meaning of defeat , he would teach the Alliance what the Maw Irregu-. Suddenly Sularen's thoughts were interrupted once more by one of his bridge officers who informed him of a new development in the Shipyards. "Grand Overseer sir , we have spotted a small group of Alliance Fighters headed towards the Shipyards. They're..." Sularen then interrupted the Officer finishing his sentence. "They're scuttling the Copero Shipyards." Sularen said. "Get me Taskmaster Tu'teggacha and High Admiral Pavan now! We must not allow the Alliance to destroy the-" Sularen's words were interrupted as he spotted an explosion at the Shipyards courtesy of Revenant Squadron. They were seriously Scuttling the Shipyards and Sularen could not allow that.

"Sir , we're connected with Taskmaster Tu'teggacha and High Admiral Pavan" an Officer informed him. "Very good" Sularen said in response before addressing his peers in the Maw. "Taskmaster Tu'teggacha , High Admiral Pavan , this is Grand Overseer Marlon Sularen. The Alliance has just entered the System and have begun scuttling the Shipyards. Battlegroup Andor has already positioned itself between our Forces and the Shipyards giving them time to do serious damage and perhaps destroy the Shipyards , which is something we cannot allow. As such i will withdraw from the System with only the Predator and regroup with the Maw Irregular Fleet while your Fleets continue to engage Battlegroup Andor. Hopefully i can return just in time to outflank Battlegroup Andor via a Thrawn Pincer and throw some fighters to intercept the forces destroying the Shipyards. I'll be leaving Command of the Terror Squadron to one of my subordinates , Vice-Admiral Stryka Remex to support you in engaging Battlegroup Andor which will most likely try to prevent us from interfering with their operation to scuttle the Shipyards. Therefore it is imperative that we act quickly. Sularen out."

Sularen then gave a new order to his Bridge Officers. "Have all fighters and Bombers from the Predator return to their Hangars and for Vice-Admiral Remex and the Terror Squadron to continue engaging Battlegroup Andor. Once the Predator's fighters are retrieved i want us to micro-jump elsewhere in the System. Then Contact the Maw Irregular Fleet and have them rendez-vous with us once we have completed the micro-jump. I also want the Terror Squadron to raise an Interdiction Field via any vessels with gravity well generators , concentrated on the starboard flank of Battlegroup Andor. That way we can conduct a proper Thrawn Pincer on them once we return." The Bridge Officers nodded and soon enough , the Predator began to slowly turn around splitting off from the Terror Squadron and preparing to Jump out of the Copero System. Once the Vessels' Fighters and Bombers were retrieved , the Ship soon jumped into Hyperspace ready to regroup with the Maw Irregular Fleet. Hopefully Sularen's strategy would work , otherwise the Maw's efforts here at Copero would have been for nothing.

Spoiler: TLDR

• The Terror Squadron spearheaded by the Predator begins to accelerate towards the Copero Shipyards until they are interrupted by Battlegroup Andor led by Admiral Zahara Myneto while also witnessing Revenant Squadron's attack on the Shipyards
• Sularen calls off the Attack on the Shipyards , contacts Taskmaster Tu'teggacha and High Admiral Nyree Pavan and informs them about these new developments and proposes a new Strategy to prevent the Alliance from scuttling the Shipyards.
• Sularen gives command of Terror Squadron to his subordinate , Vice-Admiral Stryka Remex and withdraws from the Copero System onboard the Predator to regroup with the Maw Irregular Fleet.
• The Leviathan and the Hunter activate their Gravity Well Projectors and raise an Interdiction Field concentrated on the Starboard Flank of Battlegroup Andor

Tags [BotM/FD] | Isabella Pavan | Tu'teggacha | Stryka Remex
Tags [GA] | Zahara Myneto | Tren Chaar ​

 

[A'Runda]

Enemies: Maw

---

​

BOOM!!

A'Runda had shot another Mawite trying to flee from him and the town. He couldn't let that happen, less they ran back and told their friends at Servchi. Engaging the bolt on his small rifle he cycled in another round, two left. He holstered his powerful but diminutive slug thrower on his waist and continued on as a one man death squad. Searching for other enemies in the smaller settlement. Part of him felt good to relish in the anger he felt towards these people. To feel the pull once more to the darkside and let loose some. A’Runda was far from righteous, but that didn’t matter when fighting against such a vile opponent.

A’Runda knew all too well what hatred and marauding brought. That is how he lived most of his tribal life back on tatooine. Despising those that had taken the homelands of the natives, Jawa and Tusken alike. Confidently he twirled his hardy warclub some as he strolled through the town looking for more Mawites. Eventually catching one running across the main street to find better cover. As they did, A'Runda threw his gaffi stick hard at them. The heavy weapon whooshing through the air before knocking into his target’s skull. After it did he pulled the weapon back with The Force, grabbing it firmly.

A’Runda then picked up on some nearby Force Signature. Unknown and coming in quickly. He didn’t know if this would be what he would consider aid, or more foes. His force sense was naturally rather sensitive from spending his time on such barren worlds. He could almost normally sense a Force Sensitive individual across a planet. However, in such a more temperate world with so much more life it was harder to tell. Since The Force flowed through all living things, it just meant there was more “Noise” for him to listen to. A’Runda would wait for the arrival of this new commer, and see whether or not they too needed to be dealt with like the rest of the Maw.

Michael Barran

 

[Stryka Remex]

Allies: All Maw Forces and Allies
Enemies: Everyone who isn't Maw Forces or Allies

Status: Engaging Battlegroup Andor​

On board the loud deck of Battlegroup Besh's command ship Remex looked ahead. Terror Squadron was preparing to engage Battlegroup Andor, and it looked like the full might of the enemy was about to crash into his fleet. The Vice-Admiral ignored the sounds of talking and Orders being issued as he calculated his strategy.

When Stryka was informed that he would be placed in charge of the entire unit Stryka was surprised, though this was perhaps the best chance he would get to prove himself in combat. Stryka would not let failure be an option, and loss of life was only a number.

The Fighters began to take formation, while the rest of the fleet made ready to engage. Remex listened as Grand Overseer Sularen left the system to join the Maw Fleet. Stryka then sent an order to the Squadron Captains, All officers of Terror Squadron ready yourselves, this engagement will not end in a failure because of officer stupidity, you will fight beyond your best and for as long as I say.

Stryka then gave the order to begin the Assault. With the heavier ships in front the fleet moved to attack the Chiss forces, which the intent to hold as of the moment indefinitely. The Bombers began to attack along side a portion of the other fighters, while the remainder protected the Fleet. Stryka kept close watch on every member craft of Terror Squadron, making sure every ship was working at a hundred percent efficiency.

Tags: Marlon Sularen | Isabella Pavan | Zahara Myneto

 

[Qellene Tyliame]

[Flight Officer Qellene Tyliame]
[Revenant Squadron -- Callsign: "Revenant Ten"]
[REC-AI01 A-wing Interceptor]
[Copero - Orbit]

---

Locked. Qellene fingered cautiously at the dashboard's blinking arrays, flicked at switches arranged in inconsistent displays of on and off states. Clicking. Clacking. She drummed up a short beat while her eyes scanned over the Plan Position Indicator. The marked scanning plane shifted low-res sprites constantly, readjusting for the Alliance's countless emerging enemies as they left hyperspace and set a course to engage.

Armed. She proceeded for the shipyards of Copera, accelerating faster now as the Maw began to engage a distant friendly fleet, and as the last of the station's evac shuttles took flight.

Standing By. The vast collection of massive machinery and towering structures grew closer by the millisecond-- or rather, she grew closer to it. While her missiles grew closer to firing.

They were really abandoning Copera. Qellene's eyes closed tight with the revitalization of the notion, though only for a matter of seconds so she could adjust the targeting locks on her warheads. She took a deep breath next, and with dense exhale rounded the flanks of long-abandoned cranes and other such external equipment. Until dead away lay the massive berths of an unshielded hanger bay-- her target. Another deep breath. Qellene set her finger firmly above the launch trigger, another hand resting on the yoke and ready to tear her out of the way of flying debris. Deacceleration commenced, as to allow the locks to search for and adjust once more to target the critical systems within.

One last look, the flight officer spared herself; for she knew the shipyard would soon be lost to Revenant Squadron's ordnances; and with it: the Alliance's presence in the system. Silently, she giggled at the idea, though the Pamarthen's soured expression presented the opposite emotions-- anguish, regret. They were going to lose this system and this battle; Fleet Command had consigned itself to that dreadful idea whether out of necessity or not. Little of the circumstances mattered in the end-- No matter why, it was a notion that left a foul taste to take hold of her tongue and mind. How long would it be before the G.A gave up Corellia because the Brotherhood had elected to apply any pressure? Duro? Chandrila? Coruscant!? She wondered more frantically now, consumed by an overwhelming rush of thoughts that before long had melded into nothing more than awful noise in her mind.

“Revenant, light ‘em up,”

Fire. Qellene's face contorted into a skillfully defined painting of regret as she squeezed a trigger, and watched her A-wing's four high-yield cruise missiles converge on the hanger's interior; before colliding within its center and exploding in a burst of unsettling orange and red. She pulled away sharply, deftly clearing a barrage of hyper-accelerated debris. Once she had stopped to catch her increasingly shallow breath, Qellene made another round, and before long found her eyes unable to move from the sight of the bay's dismembered skeleton, and of the similar carnage being generated by cascading chain reactions.

"[Ten to Commander,]" It took another, far longer inhale before the flight officer could allow the words to clear her mouth, "[Primary Hanger and surrounding sections neutralized. Standing by for further action.]"

---

Revenant Squadron Colleagues: Tren Chaar , Dani Stellaris , Leon Gallo , Len Vert
That One Battlegroup Andor Guy: Zahara Myneto
Brotherhood Folks: Tu'teggacha , Isabella Pavan , Marlon Sularen

 

[Raxtos]

Seize The Shipyards
SURVIVE THE SHIPYARDS
Also about to die: Darth Strosius​

And now the damn Alliance was shooting at them. Just when he'd thought things actually couldn't get any worse.

It had been the perfect mark; good intel had said the Chiss were pulling manpower out of the Copero Shipyards, leaving only a handful of personnel and droid workers. Sneak aboard, (that hadn't been fun,) find a sweet piece of Chiss-made starship, load it up with top-of-the-line tech for the black market, and blast out of there in their new ride. Simple. Foolproof.

Yeah, right.

For one thing, most every ship they'd seen had been only half constructed. So DD-4 had been forced to plug into the manufacturing line and start the automated assembly in order to finish a mostly-completed transport. That had drawn the attention of worker droids, and then a foreman droid, who'd been a pain to shut down. Then that had drawn the attention of an actual Chiss security guard, who'd been a pain to shoot in the face pointblank with a compact disruptor.

At that point, the job had stopped getting more complicated little by little, and had jumped straight to A CHISS FLEET SHOWING UP. But it was ok, the huge fleet of warships wasn't there to arrest Rax and crew, they were there to fight the STARDAMNED MAW who'd JUST COME OUT OF HYPERSPACE.

So yeah, it'd been a day.

Through the yard's huge viewports, Rax watched as the cruiser manufacturing wing was blown to hell by the good folks with the Galactic Alliance Navy. As the fighters soared overhead, the thief pulled out his commlink. "Hey Alisteri? Y'know that huge tremor you just felt through the entire space station? Yeah, they're gonna kill us all. If you haven't found a flyable ship you like, then move your ass, we gotta take off now."

 

[Michael Barran]

Post #2
THE_DRUID
THE HIGHLAND BROTHERHOOD
Objective 3: RAVAGE THE REFUGE
Tags: A'Runda

This? This was the work of ONE Tusken? I can only sense one presence of it's kind. Madness.​

The closer Argyll company got to the sounds of battle, the greater the destruction appeared as they continued their pursuit of the action, but the noise would eventually die down as they neared the sole, powerful Tusken warrior's location, with just one shot ringing out fewer than 50 metres away soon after to mark the official end to the hostilities they had been too late to catch. The knock of the being's war-club could be heard soon after, though the Highlanders confused this for an entirely different noise altogether, especially when they finally spotted the Tusken sitting a top a large chunk of rubble with his gaffi stick resting on his right shoulder. Bleeding from minor wounds, covered in bruises, dust and soot, it was clear to Michael, Yorunarr and all the Highlanders that A'Runda had been fighting all day at the very least; Barran had seen the trail of bloody, obliterated Mawsworn corpses for himself in the approach, and could tell that only one being had been responsible for all of it.
Aw'right then.... Let's try Mando sign-language first, Yorunarr knows it more.

'Shaman, c'mere.... Tell the Tusken,"Imperials - anti-Maw. Come with us.", in Mando-signs.'

Our - badge - Imperials.

kill - Mawsworn - badge.

Join - us - friend.

Outcast - stick - together.​

The Wanderer still couldn't tell if fatigue was slowing the Tusken's response-times, or if the warrior sat fewer than five metres away was still a little sceptical around the new arrivals on Sarvchi, but in that moment of moments, something strange happened; 1st-Leftenant McBain had stepped forth ahead of the others with a sheathed Highland dirk in hand, presenting it forth to A'Runda as he had with Lord Michael on Carlac, with a kindly snatch up of the warrior's free hand and wrapping the fingers around the sheathed dagger itself. As soon as Randall was done, making sincere eye-contact with the Tusken as he moved to sit on a slightly smaller chunk of housing-debris just opposite soon after, the commissioned Highland commoner muttered,'Together.', with a cursory, though kindly nod of affirmation, showing his understanding of A'Runda's resolve in the only way he knew how.

 

[Westenra Mina]

Wearing: Guardian Catsuit (Melissa, Melita, and Melody Io)

Armed with: Blood Sister (All Copies)

With: Model 1 Nuetralizers (20)

Nuetralizer Equipment:

DP-23 Shotguns

Recon Bowcasters

Adhesive Grenades

Objective: Ravage the Maw

Not far from where Michael Barran and A'Runda were re-enacting that one TNG episode where Picard tries to talk to a guy that speaks only in metaphor, drop pods had been deployed and crashed into the street, killing a hapless Maw Team in the process.

Smoke from the pods obscured what was inside as another Maw unit went to investigate. They had heard tales since Danuta and Oyokai. The Bryn'adul had hated them utterly by the end, for even their strongest infantry were not safe. They did to Bryn'adul what Bryn'adul did to so many others.

Coordinated Shotgun fire from within the pods ripped open their chests and armor as a silvery, mechanical Skeleton emerged from the first pod, face a permanent Rictus Grin due to being modeled on a human skull, for the purpose of eliciting terror in the enemy.

If you had been at Dubrava, Sarka, Sev Tok, and you saw these coming at you? It usually meant you were about to have some sort of high stakes, explosive action sequence, intermixed with large amounts of swearing, and exploding people.

Ace the Nuetralizer gave an electronic chuckle.

"And that, Kids, is why you shoot first and ask questions later." he remarked, the three Io Sisters coming out of their own drop pods.

(Io Sisters Theme Plays)

Melissa had lent her two newly made sisters her old Jedi Gear, as well as their Lightsabers.

Melita glanced down at the dead, feeling none of the regret Westenra Copies usually, deeply felt at killing. Only an overriding disgust and hatred towards the Maw. Murderous Savages fighting for a fictional paradise they had proven themselves utterly unworthy of many times over.

No sand God would give these lunatics any sort of reward. They didn't care about losses though. Or the loss of assets. Xiphos was still working out how to overcome this. On the surface, Xiphos felt it was very simple...simply be more savage and kill more than they could. The trouble was how to kill enough of them at once, and do so in such a horrible, painful, and sadistic manner that it would give even them pause.

In other words, the problem was a matter of proper implementation of Attrition Warfare, and how many War Crimes one was willing to commit in the process.

The Nuetralizers looked at operations like this the way someone in RL might view crunch time before Mid-Term Exams. The Io Sisters viewed it as a tragedy that, in order to fight such monsters, you had to become as bad or even worse monsters.

Xiphos's only concern was saving the Galaxy, but how much more of a price was she willing to pay? Was she willing to utterly destroy a planet like they had at Csilla?

The Io Sisters had a feeling the answer would be yes.

Melita spotted one still breathing, though terribly wounded from shotgun blasts.

Metallic Black Fangs slid out as she grabbed his throat...then thought the better of it and simply broke it.

"No. I will not soil my body by drinking from such filth..." Melita said in contempt.

"But what if I get hungry?" Melody asked innocently. She spotted a pigeon flying by her and expertly, gently caught it without hurting it, though it flapped it's wings voraciously as it struggled to escape.

Her own fangs slid out until she looked into it's cute, innocent pigeon eyes, sighed, and let it go.

"Too cute..." she muttered.

Melissa snorted.

"Nephew..." She called out to Ace. "Are you ready?"

"You bet, Aunt Melissa! I even brought a claw hammer!" Ace said enthusiastically, pulling a common claw hammer out.

Melody looked at him in curiosity. "What's that for?"

"Aunt Vera showed us how to do this at Rhand!" Ace explained, finding another heavily wounded Maw warrior, lifting him by his long, untidy hair, and putting the claw end of the hammer in his mouth.

He then yanked the Claw Hammer downward and not only ripped off his victims lower jaw, but much of the neck and chest tissue, making blood spray everywhere, getting blood not only on himself, but all the Sisters as well as his brothers.

"GROSS!" Melody exclaimed.

"DUDE!" Melita said disgustedly, wiping blood off her face.

"Fething Vera, she would show her Nephews the messiest killing methods..." Melissa grumbled.

"We call it the Vera Special!" Ace said.

"Nephew, darling, warn us, next time..." Melissa told him gently. "Shall we begin?"

The Nuetralizers nodded and they marched to where their audio sensors picked up the thickest fighting. The Sisters went to find Civilians to escort to safety, as there were a few Assassin Class Corvettes waiting to swoop in for evac once they collected enough.

"WHEN-YOU-WERE-YOUNG, AND YOUR HEART, WAS-A-HOLO-CRON..." The Model 1's sang as they began firing into teams of Maw Warriors setting fires and executing Civilians in the streets.

"YOU-USED-TO-SAYYYYY, 'LET THE MAW LIVE!'" they serenaded as they fired their Recon Bowcasters into the most heavily armored of the ones rampaging through the streets, exploding their heads and instagibbing the internal organs of others.

"YOU-KNOW-YOU-DID, YOU-KNOW-YOU-DID, YOU-KNOW-YOU-DIIIIIIID!" three of them sang at a higher pitch than the others as they used the Vera Special on victims in their grasp.

"BUT-IF-THIS-WRETCHED-GAL-AXY WHICH WE LIVE IN, MAKES-YOUR-CIRCUITS-ALL FRYYYYYY...JUST SAY, 'LET THE MAW DIIIIIEEEE...' the team sang as they waded into thick combat against multiple opponents, showing zero mercy with their shotguns as they began gunning down more and more, soon taking damage as whole units were called in to deal with the murderous Sons of Xiphos.

"LET THE MAW DIIIIEEE...LET THE MAW DIEEEEEEEEE..." came the sinister lyrics over the wind...

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Copero System, Edge
Allies: Marlon Sularen | Isabella Pavan | Stryka Remex
Foes: Zahara Myneto | Tren Chaar | Qellene Tyliame

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Tu'teggacha agrees to Sularen's strategy
• He deploys a screen of Darkshear swarm fighters
• He sends in a vanguard of Samaels and Doomsayers to weaken enemy shields
• He targets the (hopefully shield-weakened) escorts of the Morai with a capital ship barrage

Naturally, something went wrong. War was a messy business indeed.

Tu'teggacha's facial tendrils writhed in agitation as Battle Group Andor jumped into the Copero system, the formidable dreadnought Morai at their head. It was not a tremendous surprise to see Alliance forces coming to the aid of the Chiss; in the wake of Csilla's destruction and the Brotherhood's subsequent southward campaign, the Alliance had reacted by sending military support to the faltering Ascendancy. They had provided troops, supplies, and armaments to the Chiss, and had even placed some of their easternmost worlds under Alliance protection. The quick but brutal skirmishes at Kinoss and the Csillan Belt had only been the beginning.

Chiss Space had become a major battleground of the Second Great Hyperspace War.

What would have been a challenging but ultimately one-sided battle would now be a clash of the titans as the Morai and the Fatalis led their respective fleets against one another. Well, so be it. Tu'teggacha did not enjoy being up here, exposed among the stars... but the power at his fingertips when he sat at the controls of the Fatalis, not to mention in command of the Mawite warfleet, somewhat made up for that. He would feast on the suffering as thousands upon thousands died in the battle to come. "Admiral Myneto," he transmitted in reply, his tendrils forming around the unfamiliar name. This was a new foe. Time to see what he could do.

"Surely you know better. We have laid claim to this world. There will be no withdrawal."

The Mawite warfleet began its advance, ready to sweep aside the enemy escorts and assail their flagship. And yet it seemed that the Alliance was not so confident of their victory in the struggle, nor of their ability to protect the Chiss of this world. Sularen's transmission confirmed the Taskmaster's concerns: the Alliance was trying to hold them off while they scuttled the shipyards, denying the Brotherhood the asset they sought for their war machine. "So be it," Tu'teggacha told Sularen; his plan was the only feasible one at the moment. Unless they outflanked Battle Group Andor and reached the shipyards, they could not save the installation.

As Vice Admiral Remex moved in to engage, the Taskmaster deployed his own fleet. The first to advance was a vast screen of Darkshear swarm fighters. Cheap and utterly expendable, they could be deployed in numbers that practically blotted out the stars, soaking up enemy fire and perhaps bringing down some of the enemy fighter screen through concentrated fire of their light cannons. A vanguard of Samael-class frigates, supported by squadron after squadron of Doomsayer fighter-bombers, followed in their wake. These craft were all heavily armed with ion cannons. Their goal: to drain the shields of enemy vessels through focused fire.

Then the Mawite Star Destroyers would bring the true thunder.

As the vanguard soared in, the blue of their massed ion cannon fire slipping through the black and red cloak of incoming Doomsayers, the Brotherhood's capital ships began locking targeting solutions. The Fatalis Super Star Destroyer and its escorts, Praetorian and Crucifix I Star Destroyers, turned their MegaCaliber turbolasers and orbital autocannons toward the Morai's escorts, hoping to obliterate many of the smaller vessels (whose shields had hopefully been weakened) in a high-power volley. If they could clear this chaff, the Morai itself would be exposed, and the clash of the titans could truly begin. Speed was imperative now.

They had to save as much of the Copero shipyards as they possibly could.

What an odd position for the Mawites to be in: trying to save something.

 

[A'Runda]

Enemies: Maw
Tag: Michael Barran

---

​

A’Runda watched the newcomers after he finished up the last of the maw in the settlement. Sitting on a large pile of rubble as he did, the club held onto his shoulder. Eyeing them through his goggles he didn't really look like Maw, so he was glad with the idea that he might not need to slay them where they stood. Seeing them they all looked at least a little astonished but a little confused on how to communicate. Silently he listened to them speak about signing to him what they were here for.

When one of them signed he gazed upon them and finally noticed the imperial badges they brandished. He understood them, all of it, sign and speech. A’Runda was in no way unfamiliar with Galactic Basic. Mostly the reading and writing were something he had trouble with but even then he was fluent in speaking it.

His slow response was a mix of two things, curiosity and fatigue. Then one of them stepped forwards. A blade of some kind, sheathed, in their hands as if to present it to A’Runda. He let them take his free hand, not concerned anymore that these people meant him any harm and grabbed the dirk with it as they had him wrap his fingers around the covered weapon. Looking into their eyes through his goggles he listened to the word they muttered before nodding as well. “I understand....” He said to the first lieutenant before looking at the rest of the group. “All of it, you all have seemed to go out of your way to fight the Maw as well as I.” He explained to them. Not being aware of any official imperial involvement here.

After speaking he stood up, on the pile, looking down at all of them he continued to speak. “I understand this, we shall work together, even if only for this fateful day.” Leaving them the opportunity to see if these people could indeed function as his new tribe.

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Sarvchi, Spaceport Market
Allies: Ozma Olumivius | Romund Sro | Garza | Zachariel Steelblood
Foes: A'Runda | Ishani Dinn | Michael Barran | Westenra Mina

Spoiler: TL;DR

• The Mongrel hears about A'Runda, Barran, and Mina's attacks in the outlying town
  • He is presently too busy in the main spaceport to address them
• He encounters Ishani and Arlo defending the spaceport streets
• He fires a flashbang and a grenade full of anesthetic gas at them
• Then he charges up the street, firing his scattergun
  • A pair of Firefang Wardogs charges with him

The Second Great Hyperspace War lived up to its name. This was no mere regional conflict, with a few opposed powers squabbling over border systems. No, this was a truly galaxy-spanning conflict. Its battles had stretched east, all the way to the ancient home systems of the Sith, and drawn in fleets and armies from the furthest reaches of the Galactic South. From the untamed frontiers of the Unknown Regions to the very heart of the Core Worlds, the Second Great Hyperspace War had drawn in practically every major galactic government in some capacity.

What that meant to The Mongrel was that even such minor skirmishes as a one-sided resource raid on some backwater Chiss refuge could swiftly turn into a pitched conflict. The Bastion Accords had many signatories, all dedicated to preventing the Brotherhood's expansion and curtailing its threat... and even governments outside the Accords often sent forces to combat the Maw. Enemy champions, even armies, could arrive at any time and any place to try to hold them back.

It only proved the holiness of their mission, of course, if all the galaxy opposed them. The "civilized" powers all wanted stagnation, stasis, the status quo. They feared the purity of the Galaxy To Come.

Such was the case on this day as well. As The Mongrel pushed up the streets of Sarvchi's main spaceport, the mighty clone legions of Romund Sro providing cover and support for his troops, reports began to filter in over his comlink. There was some kind of disturbance at one of the outlying settlements... one that ought to have been easy prey for the mass of marauders assailing the planet. A sense of unease crept into The Mongrel's mind. Had some other force managed to land, attempting to counter their pillaging? Or perhaps a lone Force-mage champion? Or worse, a squad of them?

It would have to wait. He was busy enough here.

And about to get even busier, it seemed. As the warlord turned another corner, precision blasts of his scattergun shredding a trio of Chiss defenders while their return fire plinked off his cybernetic body, he discovered a much closer disruption. A pair of enemy warriors had taken cover behind two huge blocks of duracrete, chunks of a nearby building that had crashed into the street amid the destruction. That was not unusual, though it was a good position, allowing the one with the blaster to mow down approaching waves of Mawites from safety.

The unusual part was the woman with the laser-sword.

From the cover of the alleyway he'd just cleared, The Mongrel directed his burning visor's gaze at the pair of foes. He had never encountered Ishani or Arlo before, though that was no surprise; a galaxy-spanning conflict had no shortage of fresh champions, and in a galaxy of untold trillions there were plenty of one-in-a-billion Force-mages. He had to admire the coordination with which they fought, though, Arlo gunning down foes at a distance while Ishani covered him by deflecting incoming fire and hacking apart anyone who got too close.

But no roadblocks to the Mawite conquest could be permitted, so they would have to be dealt with. Over his long years of war, The Mongrel had found that he was different from most Mawites. They were savage and faithful and strong, easily on par with far better equipped soldiers of "civilization", but they could not be expected to overwhelm foes such as these, even when outnumbering them. Fighting Jedi and their ilk required flexible thinking, determination, and experience that most marauders lacked. The warlord would deal with these foes himself.

Ever since the loss of his satchel full of tricks on Rhand, The Mongrel had taken to building his gadgets into his own cybernetic arms. He raised his left arm around the alley wall, pointing it toward the pair and their impromptu roadblock. A small grenade launcher slid out of his forearm, quickly popping off two carefully-chosen grenades - impact detonated, so that they would burst immediately if touched by the Jedi's magic. The warlord had learned the hard way that a sorcerer could not only deflect energy bolts, but toss back projectiles.

That was why he used neither as his primary attacks.

The first grenade was a flash-bang, full of blinding light and eardrum-shattering sound, meant to disorient his foes. His own cybernetic auditory and visual dampers would protect him, and if the weapon caught a few marauders, well, they should've been more careful. Killing these enemy champions would be more than worth their sacrifice anyway. The second grenade was full of anesthetic gas, a vast cloud that would flow out over the street. It would swiftly begin to slow anyone who breathed it in, dulling their reactions and pulling them toward a deep artificial sleep.

The Mongrel's mask would let him charge right through it.

One could never tell which of these weapons, if any, would have an effect on the likes of a sorcerer. The Mongrel had faced Jedi who had overcome the need to breathe, or had formed energy barriers around themselves that dulled his sensory attacks... so perhaps all his gadgets would do nothing. On the other hand, he'd also faced many Jedi who were at least a little affected by such tricks, which was a better success rate than trying to kill them with a blaster. He would just have to have faith that, no matter what, the Avatars would see him through.

As the grenades burst, the warlord charged around the corner, his hateful cry amplified by his mask's speakers. "Blood for the Holy Three!" He fired his scattergun again and again as he ran, trying to keep the - hopefully stunned - enemy champions in cover until he could reach them. A pair of cybernetic Firefang Wardogs charged at his side, baying savagely as they ran, their modified legs allowing them to speed in front of him and leap over the duracrete. Perhaps they would tear out the throats of his opponents before he ever even reached them.

He doubted it, though. He faced at least one sorcerer.

 

[Zaka]

BOTM: The Mongrel - Zachariel Steelblood - Ozma Olumivius - Garza
Others: Michael Barran Ishani Dinn A'Runda Westenra Mina

Zaka looked back down the alleyway to the assortment of armed sentients. Chiss and other mercenaries. The latter, he assumed, were just as likely to blast him in the back for the Maw on any other day, if the Marauders not beaten them to the punch by pushing their borders closer to known space. For them, he calculated, it was less a battle of collective hatred, and more due to the personal drive to survive.

Even though he was young, the Beast's head that he had as a cowl and his plethora of weapons gave him the image of worthy leader. He was an Avatar of the Slayer, as his people would call it.

"Jedi," a voice sounded beside Zaka.

He only bobbed his head in acknowledgement, the two silver hilts clenched tightly in his palm as he surveyed the Trade Centre and the Spaceport that was quickly falling to the Brotherhood. The odds for escape were quickly dropping lower and lower, with each passing moment. From his crouch he rose to his feet.

"We could surrender, before it's too late, maybe they'll, uh, take kindly to an earlier one."

He looked on the human beside him. Young, barely older than him, but the paltry clothing and old blaster that gently trembled in his hand suggested he was new to this. They were close enough to hear the screams of slaughter, and as one, surprisingly loud sounded over the din of the battle, Zaka only raised a questioning brow.

The action was enough to send the cowardly thrill seeker to the back of the group, before his line of sight returned to the sky that was beginning to fill with black smoke.

They couldn't wait any longer.

From the hilts in his hands the violet beams burst outwards. "To the Spaceport!"

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Objective: Evacuate civilians, kill Mawites
Location: Sarvchi, Spaceport Market
Accompanied by: Arlo Renard, a Chaldean Mystic
Opposition: The Mongrel (engaging) Ozma Olumivius Romund Sro Garza Zachariel Steelblood
Allies?: A'Runda Michael Barran Westenra Mina Zaka

Ishani sensed the danger before she heard the sound of a grenade launcher going off. She reached out instinctively with the Force, and heard a popping sound followed by an earsplitting roar. She shielded her eyes behind a raised arm, an act that prevented her from being blinded, but her ears were ringing as the air soon filled with billowing smoke.

Poisonous gas! Again she called upon the Force, this time to detoxify any poisons she might have breathed in. Beside her Arlo did the same, though she saw him clamp a breath mask over his nose and mouth to avoid further use of the Force in filtering out the fumes.

Both sensed someone charging toward them through the gas.

"Blood for the Holy Three!"

The war cry of their opponent further signalled his arrival, as did the barking of cyborg dogs. Two Firefangs leaped over the duracrete slabs, metal claws skidding against the street.

Arlo pressed a button on his wrist, activating an energy shield, and peppered the dogs with ineffectual blaster fire. As one lunged at him, he dropped his blaster and produced his spear, plunging the sharp end into a soft spot in the Firefang’s armor. The beast let out a guttural whine of pain, only to be silenced as Arlo repeatedly stabbed into its body with laser precision.

Another Firefang bounded toward Ishani, who suffered a delayed reaction. She had never had pets, not even as a child, yet for a few absurd moments, she experienced a vivid memory of visiting a friend’s house when she was a teenager and playing with the family’s dog. But this thing was a far cry from the friendly animal who would sniff and then lick the back of her hand, or lie on its back for belly rubs.

The Firefang snarled, opening jaws lined with metallic fangs. She managed to activate her own energy shield before it breathed fire at her, darting out of range. Even so, the initial blast had been heavy, dropping the shield’s power by 40%.

Wreathed in flames, the cyborg dog charged at her, teeth gnashing. She raised her blades and cut into its hide with her lightsaber and sword, feeling it die by her hand.

Heavy blaster fire from her now unprotected sides forced her to dive into cover behind a stone pillar, several meters away from the duracrete chunks Arlo was still hidden behind. Ishani had no ranged weaponry to help him fight against the Mongrel from this distance, save the Force—and she wasn’t supposed to use it so much anymore.

Should he continue on his present course, the Mongrel would come face to face with Arlo alone. The Mystic held his spear out, using its long reach to try and fend off the Mongrel.

 

[Michael Barran]

Post #3
THE_DRUID
THE HIGHLAND BROTHERHOOD
Objective 3: RAVAGE THE REFUGE

Tags
(Allies): A'Runda Ishani Dinn Zaka
(Opposition): The Mongrel Romund Sro Zachariel Steelblood

​

'I understand.... All of it, you all have seemed to go out of your way to fight the Maw as well as I.'

When the previously-solitary warrior stood, Lord Michael took the opportunity to get the anatomical measure of his newfound acquaintance, noting A'Runda to be of a similar height and reach, though noting that he was somewhat heavier than the Gaffi stick-wielding fellow; easily remedied with training and easy access to healthy foods, so it was easily put out of the Wanderer's mind for the sake of more-urgent assessments. Using his gifts with the Force to check for internal-bleeding and broken bones, Barran found nothing of concern, but noted the empty stomach before snapping out of the sight to hear what else A'Runda had to say. Lean though the Tusken was, it was still fairly obvious to the Woad that the Highlanders' new friend retained enough strength in mind, body and soul to continue fighting for the soul of the Unknown Region, standing with back straight as he continued,'I understand this, we shall work together, even if only for this fateful day.', gaining a hearty chuckle from Lord Michael for the latter part of his continued response.

'Aye, Yorunarr here.... Aaaaye, Mister,"White-Eyes", himself! This one thought it would only be for one day as well, no jokin' either.', Barran started, pausing so he could both silently reassure with a placating left hand and casually light a cigarette with his right at the same time. Pointing to the dirk in A'Runda's hand as he took a long, heavy first draw from his Dunwaller SIlvers cigarette, Lord Michael would then look back up to cross the Tusken's gaze once more as he exhaled, continuing to point to the sheathed dagger as he endearingly growled,'When ye get one o' those from a Highlander, you make a friend of his people long after you die.', holding the warrior's gaze with absolute sincerity as he spoke. The Woad was the first to receive dagger-bequeathed honours as a foreigner, soon after it was Yorunarr, and in seeing McBain's actions in making sure A'Runda would be the third, Barran couldn't help but feel proud for his new acquaintance, knowing that such honours were never bestowed lightly.

'Cutting it short - even if you decide to go it solo, we've still got heart enough to protect you long after parting ways. You needn't fight this war alone, not when it's getting wilder with each engagement.... At least with us, you'll have people helping you fight at your best every time, a fighting chance to break the Maw's momentum once and for all!'

 

[Ladybug]

Mikilanna Mihaly (Darth Kauhu)
Overseer of Science Development

Location: Copero, Surface
Equipment: Dark Blessings of Kuolema (Twin Lightsabers), Feravvax XVI (Cybernetic Eyes), PITA CV1 (Cybernetic / Bionic Tail), Omni VI (Bionic Arm), Varjokävely (Battle Outfit)
Ship: Aries XIII
Tags: N/A

Force sensitive children were a premium any Force-based government would openly and secretly kill to obtain. Jedi, like Sith, despite being two separate philosophies, didn't grow on trees or could be harvested in fields of a civilized or back water planet. No, to swell ranks meant plucking, waging war, or ushering black covert operations to obtain these precious, innocent gems. Some, in the past, once believed killing the young minds could stop the bleeding of Force users in the galaxy; whilst some sought to water those tiny plants in the hopes of growing a vine of saviours.

And then there was her. The one who hated her parents who sent her away to the Jedi. Who hated the Jedi for failing her. Who hated the Sith who seemed to always falter and fall short of their glory. The one who sought to rip the Force from the galaxy, silencing it's whispers forever. She, herself, wielded the Force. She, herself, that basked in the dark side. She, herself, who is Sith in terms of philosophy and code. And it was she who viewed the Sith, the Jedi, the Force as her sworn enemy; an abomination that needed to be gelled and culled. To some, with her twisted views of the Force, was a champion to their cause. In fact, she would murder them to, for failing and leaving the stress of boxing the Force in a tomb to rot away passionately upon her shoulders. And so....here she was seeking these Sky-Walkers.

Between herself and this Maw, there was no pact, no agreement, and no understanding how she proceeded in her scientific duties. The Maw, from her understanding, wanted these special children for purposes known to them; and less cares from her. To her, she wanted to systematically eradicate these gifted children, minus a few for studying, and erase another bloodline or generation of Force wielders. The Force, in her opinion, has long outlived it's stay, and it was time to cull the masses of abusers and worshipers; one child at a time.

 

[Garza]

Location: Sarvchi Space Port Market
Tags: @The Mongrel | Ozma Olumivius | Romund Sro | Michael Barran | A'Runda | Ishani Dinn | Zaka | Zachariel Steelblood |

The Walkers came down hard. Showering the path with broken metal and leaking fluids. Oil and Blood littered the streets as the others followed in. Seeking to bring down any who shot at them. Hounds, fearsome, aweful, and filled with malice upon which I had seen within my world. They reminded me greatly of the spirits that roamed back with my people. Dominating the swaths they covered with haste. It made my blood ignite with fire to see this. Knowing that a simple creature such as this, could cause so much. It was... delectable. I fed upon this fear, this primal rage, and it filled me with strength.

Climing out from the top of the walker, It fell backwards upon itself. Crashing down with me outside. Rolling to reduce impact upon the ground, I still felt pain upon my flesh. Scraping and wounding myself upon the paved streets. Continuing the momentum into a run. Already the sight of a Mongrel lashing out at defenders. Throwing grenades of some form their direction with hounds on their heels. I smiled brightly with my war paint upon my face. Bloodied from the two I killed earlier. It was a good day to breathe in the death. A good day to die.

While the hounds were dealt with ease, I was unsure how well that the Mongrel would be able to take what was clearly a Force user head on. Reaching down to my side, mid-run, I drew the force-imbued sword. The length was good. Enough distance to be useful, but still short enough to be wielded with one hand if needed. With the Spear wielding individual in the front, and a second in the back, I opted to give the good ol boy a hand.

"Get in close!"

While the sword may have been in a backwards grip for me, I spun it in his direction. Clearing the distance so that a simple reach would give him the blade facing towards the enemy. While as soon as I threw the weapon, a bolt aiming directly for me zoomed by my arm. Barely missing. That single moment I slowed just enough to throw the weapon towards an ally without killing either of us, I had underpaced a sniper shot.

My head snapped to the Sniper. An inhuman growl came from a very much human throat. Once more, I twisted and shaped myself into that of the very Hellish hounds that roamed with the Maw. Rushing towards the nearest building and scaling it with ease. Slipping in a zig-zag motion as soon as I got to the rooftops, then ran dead straight at the sniper. The four legs gave me considerable speed over baseline human forms. I could see the sniper. Aiming at me and trying to aim ahead of my position. Wanting me to run into the shot. A good sniper led his target.

However, I knew better. As soon as the sniper fired, I came to a dead stop. Throwing my hindlegs down into the ground and scraping my ass into the rooftop to break. The bolt landed almost directly in front of me. A super close call as I took cover behind an air vent. While it wasn't really cover, it was moreso concealment. Allowing me a brief period to weigh my options.