Faction Helter Skelter [Maw]

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Foerost Shipyards
Aboard: The Devourer
​

The line had been pushed back again, failure again, defeat again. As soon as Kyrel Ren was released from his bacta tank aboard the Devourer he watched as floods of reports were coming in. He swore there was an interval of ten minutes as Maw starships, some damaged, some barely hanging on barreled out of hyperspace in flames. No doubt some ships barely made it out of the Empress Teta system without parting gifts from the Alliance. There was noise all over the comms as ships kept jumping into the Foerost system. All of the Maw was forced to pull back towards Foerost in an attempt to regroup even resupply.

In the first few hours alone it was a mess. The comms of several Maw commanding officers were at each other’s throats. Slaves that were once sent to be transported deep into the Unknown Regions were instead forceful conscripts. Some were willing converts who had freely chose to take up the arms of the Maw, others were forcefully branded with the Maw’s insignia. By the order of the Wrath of the Maw a new auxiliary force would be made from the slaves. He even dangled the Maw’s own teachings by reciting that by killing the enemy they would be quick to become part of the Maw. For now he was trying to have the situation under control. Reports were becoming more confusing, he couldn’t tell who died and who lived. His own officers were scrambling to try and make sense. His holoprojector was flooded with hails from the retreating ships.

At the same time he had the head administrator of the Foerost shipyards in his ear. “Sir… I’m not sure how you expect for us to gain anything from this.” He said waving around a datapad that showed materials, even work in progress ships being scrapped to repair Maw vessels. Some even chose to get a little creative, and mix ship parts together to create ugly ships. “You were most welcoming when we deprived you of your predecessor…” He said recalling that the Maw would install those that would be most loyal, although there were some weasels that only followed out of fear. “But the materials, the trade routes being cut off… If you can’t provide compensation..” He was quickly cut off by Kyrel grabbing his throat, staring into the undead’s eyes Kyrel spoke. “You are in no position to make demands… We will take what we deem necessary for the crusade! Question the orders for what these shipyards have to offer, and you will find that I am not the most hospitable when my patience has ran out.” He said with venom before releasing the lowly human shipyard overseer. His attention focused to his commanding officer Commander Grodd. “M-My Wrath… we have done our best to guide the traffic of the Maw’s retreat. Now how do we fix this?” The Devourer’s captain asked nervously as he watched out to see the shambling remains of a fighting retreat out of Empress Teta.

Kyrel strode his way towards one of the dark meeting rooms inside the Devourer. Turning to the officer the War Master spoke. “There is no easy fix to this… Summon who you can to the Devourer, let’s see if we can try to collect ourselves before we tear each other apart. If anyone dares try anything stupid… Destroy them.” He said furrowing his brow showing his impatience at the situation. Grodd nodded. “Right away my Wrath.” Grodd would leave while Kyrel remained inside the meeting room, taking a seat at the head of the table. The comm chatter didn’t cease to stop, he swore he could hear the blood boiling inside. Tension had clung tightly to the air as the confusion had swept across the surrounding shipyard. The Wrath of the Maw would wait for his guests to arrive. Hoping to quickly find a way out of this predicament before the line would become shifted once more.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective: Regroup
Tags: Kyrel Ren​

Empress Teta had been a failure for the Brotherhood of the Maw, they had been pushed back from a world they had taken over. It was a first for them, to lose a world they had laid claim to. Oh, other worlds had been raided before, losses had been taken, but never so severely on one of their own worlds. This, this truly was a first for the Maw, and it was evidence in every flaming wreck of a ship entering the system, evidenced by the absolute chaos reigning as captains vied to be repaired first and make sense of everything.

The chaos of it all was evident to anyone in system, but those outside were not so informed. This was the case for Zachariel Steelblood and his small Bloodsworn fleet. They were traveling down the line of newly conquered Maw worlds, bringing supplies and their own warriors to the front. Thus far, their trip had been uneventful, but emerging into the system of Foerost was a very different matter. As soon as they emerged from hyperspace, a dozen warnings went off simultaneously.

"My lord! Scans indicate dozens of ships out there, all but a few are damaged. By the Avatars, it's chaos my lord."
The cry of the senior sensor officer rang clear over the shocked quiet of the bridge. All eyes were glued to the windows, witnessing the sheer scale of destruction to be had on each ship. They saw repair already underway, but far more ships were still damaged, some still burned. Others listed aimlessly, no doubt dead in the void. But it was also very, very clear that these were Maw ships.

Eyes narrowing beneath his helm, Zachariel leaned forward, scowl and confusion evident in his voice.
"What the hell happened here?" Shaking his head, he leaned back in his throne. "Find out and bring us in closer."

His orders being followed out, Zachariel let his senses wander out across the assembled fleet. He sensed their anger, their rage at what had happened, but he also sensed fear. Something big had happened, and the warlord was out of the loop. This annoyed him, prompting his dark red gaze to watch the assembled fleet with renewed intensity. It took several minutes, during which time his fleet flew ever closer, before he finally had an answer. The officer who spoke up was a lower rating on the bridge, clearly a sacrifice. For the message she delivered was dire, and none higher wished to be the sacrifice for their lords anger.

"My lord." The woman knelt before the throne, knowing the message she would deliver would anger her liege. "This fleet, it's... it's the fleet from Empress Teta my lord. They, they were pushed back, and these ships are the survivors of that conflict."

For several moments, Zachariel sat silently and unmoving, before a single word was spat out.
"What?!"

Frightened, the lower rating bowed her head even lower, practically kissing the floor at this point.
"The re-reports are clear lord, they are from Empress Teta. As far as reports show, this... this is all they have left lord. They, they lost to the Galactic Alliance and their allies. The Galactic Alliance annihi-"

Her report was cut short by the invisible force now grabbing her entire body, lifting her into the air. She was frozen stiff in pain, lips feebly gasping to speak, but unable to do so by the will of Zachariel. Arm held before himself, Zachariel was constricting her mind, body, and soul, putting unimaginable pressure on her with his rage. With a thought, he dragged her closer, armored fist closing on her head as he released her, only to slowly start squeezing with his hand.

The woman scrabbled weakly against his gauntlet, pained cries echoing, before she managed to cry out.
"Lo-lord Kyrel c-c-calls!"

The pressure on her skull eased, giving the woman leave to speak further. She took the chance, painfully gasping out.
"Lord Kyrel has called for all who can to join him. He has called for a meeting The Devourer, to organize my lord!"

Hands feebly resting on his own hand, the woman limply hung there, bracing herself for death but praying that she had staved it off. For another moment, Zachariel held the woman there, mind calculating everything he knew thus far. Then, with a snarl, he threw the woman to the side as he stood. She crashed unnoticed to the ground, falling into blissful unconsciousness soon enough. But Zachariel's focus was solely on the view port, glaring towards what he knew to be The Devourer.

"Prepare my shuttle and inform Kyrel I am coming." Turning, he made his way off the bridge, leaving them with one final message. "Find. Out. Everything. Report it all to me."

 

[Tu'teggacha]

With a datapad clutched in his knobby hand, Tu'teggacha watched the fleet limp home.

The warships of the Maw arrived in fits and spurts, twos and threes or battered lone survivors. Long gone were the organized formations and clear-cut battlegroups they'd been part of at the start of the fight; now the only distinction that remained was between survivors and the dead. And there were far, far too many of the latter. Every holofrequency in the system was a cacophony of reports and distress calls, making it almost impossible to sort through the chaos and determine the full extent of the Brotherhood's losses, but the Taskmaster was certain of one thing: it was more than they could afford.

Their losses at Tython had been grievous enough, and now they were reeling once more.

It might all have fallen to chaos, for the Maw was fractious at the best of times. Despite the facade of a unified horde of fanatics that they presented to their enemies, the Brotherhood was in truth a loosely-welded collection of greedy pirates, savage tribesmen, half-mad cultists, ambitious warlords, and a half dozen different subfactions with a wide variety of incompatible final goals. The death of Solipsis, the supposedly infallible prophet of their supposedly inevitable gods, had nearly shattered the fragile coalition. There were many fair-weather allies among them, fighting only so long as they kept winning.

Teta was the first time they had lost a world, the first planet to escape their control.

And it could easily have broken their brittle alliance apart.

But the Brotherhood had been forged by the strong, fiery will of a great leader, and an equally strong will could re-forge it, hold it together. Darth Mori had proven that on Exegol, casting down all challengers and ascending to the Dark Voice's suddenly-vacant throne. And now, in the wake of the withdrawal from Teta, another strong will had arrived to take charge of the chaotic situation: the Wrath of the Maw, Kyrel Ren. As the remnants of the occupation force had limped back to Foerost, the Wrath had been waiting to bring order out of the chaos, by any means necessary. And dire means were necessary.

Kyrel's orders were drastic, and no one was in a better position to understand that than Tu'teggacha, the Brotherhood's master of logistics. When the Wrath had ordered that many of the Maw's slaves were to be pressed into combat service, a desperate stopgap measure to bolster the horde's overstretched forces, the Ebruchi had nearly lost himself to panic. Every slave that was removed from production duties - manning the factories, farms, and supply lines of the Brotherhood - had to be somehow replaced in order to keep the war machine running smoothly... but without fresh conquests, how could they be replaced?

Standing at one of the observation decks on Foerost's orbital shipyards, the Taskmaster stared out into the void, lost in thought. What Kyrel had done was necessary, but it was also only a temporary solution. The Brotherhood was designed to be an offensive monster, ever-growing, always consuming. When forced onto the defensive, it was doomed to struggle. Tu'teggacha had evacuated every asset he could from Teta ahead of the Alliance attack, evading the battle and retreating to the safety of occupied Foerost, but so much had still been lost. How could they possibly recover with the Alliance pressing the attack?

They needed new conquests, new captives, new battles they could win.

Otherwise, the stalwart Alliance would wear them down.

A beeping drew the Taskmaster back to the present, and he looked down at his datapad. There was a summons there, a request to join the Wrath aboard his ship Devourer. Tu'teggacha closed his glassy eyes and sighed wetly, a sound like a bantha stepping on a pile of soaked rags. He was not looking forward to this meeting, for it would be all about sacrifice and compromise and the bitter taste of defeat. But he could not ignore it. He would be needed to provide his deep knowledge of the Maw's resources, if they were to make an effective plan. "Ready my shuttle," the Ebruchi ordered.

It was time to face the truth. It was time to answer Wrath's call.

Kyrel Ren | Zachariel Steelblood​

 

[Romund Sro]

Objective: Regroup and Reorganize
Tags: Kyrel Ren | Zachariel Steelblood | Tu'teggacha

After their defeat on Tython, Romund has had little time to lick his own wounds let alone those of the Maw. The Galactic Alliance’s counter offensive seemed to be seizing the opportunity well, and taking advantage of their recent victories. Personally this made Romund’s confidence waver in the Maw. He shared little compassion or sympathy for his allies. But even he had to admit that he was a little shaken when he found out of Solipsis’s passing. Romund himself joined and brought his small clone enclave to the Maw when they became the Dark Voice on Exegol, and when he became a husk fighting The Empire they so kindly went out of their way to twist Romund into a new form and keep him a competitive force among their ranks.

Tap…Tap…Tap

The end of Romund’s cane hit the floor of the corridor with every other step as he made his way to the conference room of his own vessel, an old corona class armed frigate. He’d just been notified and summoned by The Wrath, Kyrel Ren. Unfortunately Romund couldn’t be there in person. Taking a seat in the room he entered in a few controls on a datapad of his and let the technology do its job.

After a moment Romund would appear in one of the vacant seats at the table with Kyrel, as a blue hologram that is. Looking over to the Master of Ren Romund spoke. “My apologies Master Kyrel, for my physical absence. I do hope this doesn’t come off as any sort of… transgression.” He figured it really made little difference if he was actually in the room with him or not. But understanding the short tempers of other members of Maw leadership, this was also a bit of a safety precaution for him as well.

 

[Kybo Ren]

​

In oblivion
​

The Scourge of the Stars screamed in his mind.

Amidst a horrific dream-scape of madness and pain. His soul flayed over and over again, the wrathful Apostate of his past taking his revenge on the pirate.

Woe to he who denies my supremacy and repays knowledge with death

The phantom wailed, its ghastly form chasing Kybo in his nightmare. Its clawed fingers reached out, gaping maw threatening to swallow him whole.

His dead crew, hundreds across decades of piracy, burst out from the ground beneath him, their skeletal hands dragging him down as they dug into his flesh, a cold and cloying touch of decay. Men he had failed in battle, men he had killed with his own hands for a taste of the Shadow, men he had betrayed solely for coin. Their accusative skull-grins seemed to mock him as he fell into the bone-covered earth.

Come dance with the hangman, O Scourge, ye lily-livered and fell-hearted coward

The dark psychic shell around his dream-form fell apart, and Kybo's mind changed, regressing. He felt again the fear and anguish of his weaker past, and once again he was Sao, the ruined criminal. Sao, the damaged urchin. Sao, the discarded orphan. He wailed and screamed, one moment his body dragged under the dirt, and another suddenly in the boiling sea, lances of plasma and death falling upon him. The skeletal embrace changed, now hot and half-melted, covered in sloughing skin and broiled flesh, the faces of the millions he had condemned to death on Tarnooga.

Curses upon the Stranger, the bringer of destruction, betrayer of the mother sea.

As he fell into the meat-red sea, the salt stinging his every wound, Sao's vision melted away, and he caught sight of... land. Of an open sky, red with anger and a ground blackened by sin. He saw the rock of his life-energy. The Dead Man's Plateau. It reached out through his vision-in-a-vision and came to reality, lashing at the vengeant geists of his past.

The rock. That accursed place he was bound to.

Then Sao- no, Kybo- understood. He saw the mirage latch on to him briefly, the feeling of ochre earth rubbing into his pores. With renewed indignance and rage, Kybo lashed out at the phantoms again and-

Aboard the Stranger Danger​

Kybo awoke from his bacta tank, the Force spilling out of him in lightning and kinetic force, shattering the tank and blasting everything in the room with the force of a miniature hurricane. The pirate fell out, his skin prickling at the shattered glass. He was too tired to open his eyes, but he heard footsteps rush to the door, sliding it open.

"Cap'n, what-"

"Leave me be... I'll get t' the bridge soon."

Without verbal acknowledgement, the crew silently left.

"By the abyss..." he groaned, finally opening his eyes. But now his mind was clear, clearer than it had been in a long time. Despite the setbacks of the recent past, Kybo knew that, after this, he was going to need to take a trip home and fix something.

Kybo made his way to the bridge, a slight limp slowing him down. He had recuperated since the battle, but the injuries still gnawed at him. His crew, too, was a pitiful sight: the ship was still not repaired from the earlier battle, with every other lighting circuit shut down to conserve power, bulkheads hastily sealed and many control panels on standby mode. Scorch marks from blaster fire still lined the halls of the ship, and most of the crew that he strode past were bandaged in some place.

He entered the bridge, watching the officers scurry from station to station, trying to keep the ship from falling apart. With a depleted crew complement, the damaged warship's systems was always at risk of blowing itself up. Even though they had escaped chasing Alliance ships, the Stranger would need a full repair before it went back into battle.

Kybo looked out the windows, watching the damaged fleet gather around Foerost. Small groups of varying ship types limping around the shipyards, waiting their turn to receive some repair from the shipyards.

"Cap'n, we have received a transmission from Lord Kyrel Ren aboard the Devourer," the comms officer called to Kybo. "He requests an audience with the leaders of the surviving flotillas."

The pirate nodded.

"Bring us into port for repairs, and prepare my shuttle. Third Officer is acting XO, she has the helm."

"Aye cap'n!"

​

Kybo's shuttle detached from the Stranger soon after, its flanks adorned with the sigil of the Ren and his personal device of the Skull and Dragon. It was one of the few still spaceworthy, but only barely, and Kybo was glad when the shuttle landed safely inside the shuttle bay of the Devourer.

Kybo exited the shuttle ramp, careful not to show any signs of weakness or hurt from his injuries, spotting Tu'teggacha and Zachariel Steelblood 's shuttles in the hangar. There were always eyes watching. He took his time strolling to the elevators, pass the bowing acolytes and slaves, and took his time once the elevator reached the command deck of the Devourer. Kybo moved with purpose, surveying the ship. He had rarely had occasion to meet with the master of his order, and appreciated the state of the ship. Certainly better than the state of his own fleet, scattered as it was after years of conflict.

Kybo reached the meeting room, its door open. A long table occupied the spacious room, each seat along its sides mounted with state-of-the-art data consoles. Kybo bowed as he entered, Kyrel Ren waiting at its head.

"Lord Ren, thy humble Knight is in yer presence."

After a moment Romund would appear in one of the vacant seats at the table with Kyrel, as a blue hologram that is. Looking over to the Master of Ren Romund spoke. “My apologies Master Kyrel, for my physical absence. I do hope this doesn’t come off as any sort of… transgression."

Kybo frowned at the image of the remotely-transmitted Dark Jedi. Not exactly a good message to be remotely transmitting at a expressly called to regroup the shattered Maw force, a Maw force prone to sabotage, mistrust and backstabbing. Being in-person was half the point of the meeting: to prevent any chicanery. But Kybo bit his tongue, letting his master speak for himself.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Tags: Kybo Ren Tu'teggacha Romund Sro Zachariel Steelblood

Kyrel’s gaze was fixed on the holoprojector at the center of the table. He watched as rows of slaves in the tens of millions being branded, fitted into armor and weapons. Some had eagerly accepted the Wrath’s new decree but some had begrudgingly accepted with pain. Kyrel had no choice in order to salvage the Core offensive he had to do what he deemed necessary to bolster what shambles of the Maw force was. His gaze never left the holo screen as if he took delight in the Maw insignia being blessed upon the slaves. He felt as if he was a God himself, even if it was blasphemous he felt it was his divine right to lead the conquests by any means necessary.

His anger was silent, the constant chattering of arguing Maw generals, and disputes with taking much needed resources so far from Maw space. He now only wondered if the Avatars were testing them on this great crusade to smite all the heretics. He only hope that by summoning the Mawites could they work to keep the line held together. Truly the greatest fear the Wrath held was to be chased all the way back to the Unknown Regions the force unrecognizable from a decade ago. Worse, his own reputation would be at stake. If he couldn’t do what needed to be done for the campaign, then it would make his position in line for Maw leadership become put into question. He didn’t tear his eyes away from a new force being born out of desperation.

He was finally taken away from his gaze by the cowardly approach of Commander Grodd. The bone covered officer approached carefully and whispered to him. “M-My Wrath they have started to arrive.” Kyrel nodded and soon Grodd was quickly sent away to make sure his guests made it to the meeting room. The Master of Ren turned his form to the hologram of Roman’s Sro usually thought of as reclusive till now. I’m that same moment his knight Kybo Ren was one of the firsts that had faithfully answered his Master’s call. He could see the look Kybo gave to the hologram, as if he thought such tech was poor taste. Kyrel didn’t mind in the slightest. “Good to see you are the first among us Kybo… As for you Romund regardless of distance you answered my call, that is enough. As you can see on the holo before you times have turned desperate… We will await for the others before we commence the great work.” He said before taking his seat at the head of the table.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

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H E L T E R_S K E L T E R

FINAL DAWN
O'REEN, UNKNOWN REGIONS

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From his office within the Grand O'Reenian Palace located in Fort Maximus on O'reen, High Regent Marlon Sularen carefully reviewed the latest reports in regards to the Brotherhood of the Maw's recent defeat at Empress Teta. Since Batorine, the High Regent had expected the Alliance to launch such a move, certain that the Battles of Tython and the Incursion on Batorine had only boosted Alliance Confidence. Empress Teta had been recaptured by the Galactic Alliance just as Sularen had anticipated and now what remained of the Mawite Forces from Teta were flooding the neighboring world of Foerost. What Sularen hadn't expected was the Chaos that the Retreat would generate. However what surprised the High Regent the most was the acts in which Kyrel Ren took to "salvage" the situation. He had taken command of the situation on Foerost and had ordered the establishment of an auxiliary force from the Slaves that were set to be transported to the Unknown Regions and in addition to that he had demanded that the Final Dawn-controlled Foerost Shipyards scrap all ships under construction so that their materials would go into repairing the damaged Mawite Warships.

Like at Cathay, Sularen hadn't really been made aware about the order until just recently, and the High Regent didn't like the idea of other Mawites using the assets of the Final Dawn as they pleased. First it was Tu'teggacha dismantling and relocating infrastructure from one of the largest cities on Cathay, and then now here Kyrel Ren was ordering the dismantlement of all Warships being built at Foerost, all of whom were being built for the Final Dawn in order for the materials to be utilized in the reparation of damaged Mawite Warships from Teta. Sularen personally despised Kyrel Ren who recently had torn his right arm off in a brutal but pointless demonstration on Eriadu, setting back the High Regent's plans in the Outer Rim and critically injuring the High Regent, forcing him to replace his lost arm with a cybernetic one. Now he came to a Final Dawn-held Shipyard and despite holding no formal authority within the Final Dawn was now ordering his subordinates around, making changes to his assets without informing the High Regent.

The Tribes of the Maw were continuing to be a thorn on his side, not only having defied the authority of the New Sith Order but now actively seeking to assert themselves over the Final Dawn, an organization Sularen had worked tirelessly to transform into a Major Force within the Brotherhood of the Maw, since his arrival after being overthrown from Byss. But those thoughts were quickly washed away as Colonel Rackham, Sularen's trusted aide entered the Office with news from Foerost directly. "Colonel. What news do you have for me." the High Regent asked as the Colonel walked infront of the High Regent's desk. "Sir. the Wrath of the Maw, Kyrel Ren has called for a summit of the various leaders of the Maw." the Colonel replied. "A summit you say" Sularen said while stroking his beard. He was quite surprised that Kyrel Ren had called for such a meeting but it did make sense, considering how he had taken control of the situation at Foerost and had led the Retreat from Empress Teta. But what the High Regent was interested in the most, was what the Wrath of the Maw had to say, and what he had planned forwards.

"Very well then. Colonel. I will partake in this 'summit'. I wonder what the Wrath of the Maw has to say especially about his recent orders from Foerost." the High Regent said in response. "You're dismissed." Sularen finished, signaling for his aide to leave his room. A few moments later onboard the Flagship of Kyrel Ren, the Devourer, the holographic image of Marlon Sularen would appear within one of the vacant seats in the conference chamber in which the leaders of the Maw had gathered inside for the summit. Unlike Romound Sro, the High Regent would remain silent offering no words and only waiting for this summit to begin. There were alot of questions left to be answered along with alot of work to do, and hopefully this summit would not end up like the one he had attended at Eriadu especially considering Kyrel Ren was at it's head.

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Tags | Kyrel Ren | Kybo Ren | Tu'teggacha | Zachariel Steelblood | Romund Sro ​

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[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective: Regroup
Tags: Kyrel Ren | Kybo Ren | Tu'teggacha | Romund Sro | Marlon Sularen​

Enroute to Kyrel's flagship, Zachariel received countless reports from his underlings, each more worrying than the last. The Brotherhood had lost at Empress Teta, that much he knew already. However, the extent was far greater than he had expected, and the chaos that followed was very evident. Even now, chaos was only being reigned in at the edge of a sword, something that annoyed the warlord. Flicking through the tablet, Zachariel ordered his fleet to aid Kyrel's in establishing order. The infighting would end now, they couldn't afford to battle one another, not yet at least.

More reports came in, even as his orders were followed, but for now he ignored them. Instead, his focus was directed forward as the shuttle landed into a hanger of confusion and chaos. It was an apt depiction of the outside picture, just on a much smaller scale. All around, warriors of the Maw rushed about to re-organize and prepare for what was to come. They had no time for formalities, for they knew not when their enemies would attack. All they could do was prepare to fight back, to hold every last inch as best they could before either dying, or retreating again.

The thought disquieted Zachariel, never before had he thought that they would retreat because they were pushed back. He had thought they would fall back after victory, not such a defeat. Yet, here they were, doing exactly that. Shaking his head, Zachariel let his mind shift gears as he entered the ship and marched towards the meeting room, only half giving this Commander Grodd any attention. Just because he didn't think they would retreat in defeat, didn't mean he didn't think they wouldn't retreat at all. Plans began to form, based on prior ideas set into motion for their triumphant return, and now ignoble retreat.

Soon enough, he reached the meeting room as his thoughts settled, an idea formed of what they could do to save their forces, or hold their ground. Entering without fanfare, he glanced about, interested to see who had come, and who they brought with them. Zachariel's Chosen had remained by the ship, to ensure none would dare try to use it in his stead. He noted Romund and Marlon already present via hologram, along with Kybo being physically present.

Then his gaze finally landed on Kyrel. Seated at the head of the table, the man looked every part the Wrath of the Maw, though Zachariel knew there was more to him than just that. There was cunning in the man, something Zachariel respected, outside their aligned goals for the Maw. Nodding to his fellow warlord and ally, Zachariel found his own seat. Leaning back in the chair, Zachariel gaze slowly shifted from one individual to the next, before finally resting on the holoprojector in the middle.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Tu'teggacha was less than thrilled when he found that he was the last to arrive - though in fairness, he was one of only three who had heeded the Master of Ren's summons in person, with the warlords Sro and Sularen showing up only by holo. Whether physically or virtually present, however, the people in this room represented a significant gathering of Mawite power. It was hardly everyone relevant to the ongoing war against the Galactic Alliance, but it was a strong sampling of those who led the war effort. With their combined power, they could exert considerable influence over the Brotherhood.

And they would need to, if the war was to continue.

The Taskmaster's glassy black eyes immediately flicked over to the holoprojector that Kyrel was watching, taking in the images that danced across its surface. Just as he had heard, the slave labor force that kept the Brotherhood war machine running was being cannibalized, with miners and plantation farmers and factory line workers pressed into service as combat troops. With the Maw's symbol branded into their flesh and guns thrust into their hands, they would become a fresh wave of troops to replace the terrible losses at Tython and Teta. But who would replace them? Even Drudges took time to produce.

But if the Brotherhood didn't use this short-term solution to survive right now...

... well, none of their long-term problems were going to matter.

In a coalition as loose and diverse as the Brotherhood, tensions were always high... and they threatened to hit the boiling point anytime the Maw began to lose. The thought made the Taskmaster's eyes flick involuntarily to where the hologram of Marlon Sularen now sat. The Grand Overseer - or High Regent, or whatever title he'd decided on today - differed from all of the other warlords. He wanted his own Neo-Imperial state, a realm of strict laws and rigid society, and only allied with the Brotherhood in order to gain the military strength he needed to carve one out. He saw his Final Dawn's assets as separate.

When the Brotherhood needed those assets, he bristled at the "interference".

He wouldn't easily accept the harsh measures they were forced to adopt.

He would accept them only if the Maw continued to help him win.

Tu'teggacha sighed as he took his seat, a sound like a human blowing his nose into a basin of water. He had not realized until Solipsis was gone just how delicate the Prophet's balancing act had been. The Brotherhood was an unstable alliance, a figurative house of cards, and now their bottom supports were being knocked out. The first Dark Voice was dead - a card gone, a shift in the delicate balance. For the first time, they'd been driven back from a planet they'd occupied - another card gone, and everything was on the verge of tumbling into collapse. How could they remain standing now, when so weakened?

If they were too harsh, took too much, the warlords would desert them.

If they weren't harsh enough, they would surely lose the war.

The Taskmaster did not envy Kyrel Ren his task.

"My lords," the Ebruchi greeted them.

"What now, great Wrath?"

Kyrel Ren | Zachariel Steelblood | Kybo Ren | Romund Sro | Marlon Sularen​

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Tags: Tu'teggacha Marlon Sularen Kybo Ren Romund Sro


Kyrel watched and waited anxiously with interest. His gaze would shift to the display out on the holo of the numerous slaves being pressed into service. Kyrel had no choice in this matter he had been on a steady decline since Tython. The Alliance were starting to learn how to fight back against the Maw. The dark unity the Maw religion had formed into what the worst the galaxy had to offer was not enough. His gaze then turned to the gathering that had answered his call.

His gaze shifted from what he could see as Steelblood, and the one known as Sularen. Recent memories had flashed in his mind of his earlier encounter when the Final Dawn had grown too ambitious under him. He gave the man a single glance noticing the new arm he adorned. The next and the last one to appear was the taskmaster himself. “Is this all?” He asked his gaze shifting quickly between each member of the room, there was a slight air of tension as Kyrel was the one firmly in control. “Let’s begin.” His simmering rage could barely be hidden by his tone.

He then activated the holoprojector showing the map of the Maw advance. “My fellow Mawites. I have summoned you all here today because of this humiliating set back. The Brotherhood was once a juggernaut able to bring the galaxy to its knees. Or we would be if not for Tython. We have never skirted so closer to disaster than we are now… Despite the ascension of our new Dark Voice it hasn’t stopped our defeats. Our manpower can’t be replaced in the sufficient time we need. Effective today I’ve issued a new force to be made. This is only temporary until we can regroup… I cannot express my utter disappointment in the loss of Empress Teta, how much further must the line continue to shift?” He paused as he stared at all those that attended the meeting.

The holo showed the shifting line. The way it had all changed since Tython, now it appeared as if the line would be broken completely. “I will also take suggestions. You can feel free to object to this decree if you feel that too is necessary.” He said his eyes staring daggers into every member with his sentence. “We have choices to make, we either abandon the Core campaign and retreat to the Unknown, or we salvage this. What shall it be gentlemen?” He paused to listen to anyone who might have an opinion.

 

[Kybo Ren]

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Aboard the Devourer
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Effective today I’ve issued a new force to be made. This is only temporary until we can regroup… I cannot express my utter disappointment in the loss of Empress Teta, how much further must the line continue to shift?

We have choices to make, we either abandon the Core campaign and retreat to the Unknown, or we salvage this. What shall it be gentlemen?

Interesting. Kybo had his own priorities, but he was surprised Kyrel would be so open as to ask if retreat was a choice. Not that it was up to them; Mori likely had her own plan for the Core.

In truth, Kybo was more focussed on his dream. He needed to return to Tarnooga someday soon... but his fleet required the fleets and resources that only occupation of the Core could provide. And ultimately, the Maw's strength was its ability to threaten and occupy the Core from its base in the Unknown.

"If th' Alliance can near beat us with a series of battles, the Maw will fall apart. Retreating will only deepen the rifts in our fraternity of slaughter. The resources here are what keeps our ships and soldiers in fighting shape. And ultimately, we are all masters of raiding and slaying. We can fight our way out of encirclement should such happen to us, if say Xa Fel were to fall. But in the meantime we will make the Alliance bleed. They are soft; they have not the stomach for prolonged battle. But we thrive off it. Holding on and bleeding them dry will force them to regroup, and give the Maw time to shore up our Core positions."

 

[Vesta]

"You won't even consider going?"

"Are you assuming that I haven't already played out how this goes in my head?"

There was a brief moment of silence as the Dark Voice's question lingered in the air. There were two choices, one being to lie and suggest that she hadn't been questioned while the other was to admit to the Dark Lord of the Sith that she believed the woman wasn't acting within her best interests. Fortunately, as the Tetan inhaled, a dismissive gesture made with the wave of her hand signaled that the Sith was going to let it slide. " Kyrel Ren is just acting in the best interest of the Maw, or what he believes is in its best interest - or his own. I don't really much care which, if I'm being honest, because whatever it is that he thinks is best is closer to being correct than whatever will happen if I try to intervene." She explained, the sound of water sloshing about filling the room as she started to lean forwards in the below-ground tub to reach for the brush intended for the underside of her nails.

"I just don't see how not doing anything, not even being there, will inspire much confidence in you while the opposite is the case right now."

The Shi'ido grinned, her eyes trained on her fingertips as she checked to ensure there weren't any flakes of dried blood left under them from her outing the night before. "Nadja, Nadja, you should know better than anyone that misplaced confidence can be anyone's undoing - let the tribes and the Ren collaborate with each other in the now, plan out their goals for a better Maw, cast their doubts on me if they wish. If I were to show up and throw their meeting into a tizzy they'll only double down on their belief that I am out to get them, or whatever it is they think I care about when it comes to power." She said with a similarly dismissive tone while she leaned back into the tub, turning her gaze towards the woman standing beside the tub - a prisoner of sorts, at this point - while she submerged herself up to her chin in hot water. "They are thinking of territory, of an understanding of their predecessors, I won't blame them for not seeing the bigger picture - they want results that I cannot give them just yet, we will surely see several more abandoned planets that do not benefit the cause like Teta, whether they like it or not, but this isn't a democracy."

Nadja shrugged, understanding what the woman was saying but not quite understanding what she meant.

The Sith lifted one leg up at the opposite end of the tub, watching water cascade back down, before lowering it to do the same with the other. "The intention I have for these men and women, for the Maw, is the same as Solipsis - to burn this galaxy in the fires of its own sins. What do I care for territory if I mean to destroy it? What do they? I won't pretend to think it isn't because they believe they can keep this war moving perpetually, but that is just how leaders are. Their line of thinking will benefit me in getting the Brotherhood where it needs to be in order to succeed where we failed on Tython." Mori said before she started to lean forward in order to stand, water rolling down her back as she reached for a towel to wrap herself with after emerging from beneath. "All will be well, Miss Keto, you will still have me to feed and collar you just as I have been for the better part of the last decade - you are still proving to be just as useful to me as you promised the day we met." She said as she reached for a second towel to wrap her hair in around her head. She was still smiling, something which unnerved the Tetan greatly.

"Remind me to introduce you to Admiral Vo, I am certain it will make it so much easier to understand why I am so calm."

Nadja tilted her head, presenting the woman with a confused look.

"The Admiral is there to be my eyes, silly."

 

[Xuan Vo]

This wasn't for her.

Meetings, wearing proper clothing, being away from combat. She had been an Admiral in name for quite some time, but she had spent all of that time raiding and taking what she and her forces could for the Maw's war efforts - not playing politics in a star destroyer with a bunch of men that had deeply conflicting views on what it was the Maw was meant to be doing, exactly. That was what she had said to newly anointed Dark Voice, but of course she didn't quite seem to listen to reason just as much as the men here looked unprepared to do the same. Tython had been a means to an end, an incidental location for a ritual that hadn't gone as planned, not a place to be conquered and taken - even she understood that and she hadn't even been part of the discussion when that planet had been put to talks.

Kyrel Ren was supposedly Mori's Wrath, though she wasn't quite certain what it was that meant, but she seemed to imply it was her intention to place the man on a pedestal of sorts so his self-importance and ego were satisfied enough to keep some of the others in line in the less-than-secular side of things. Marlon Sularen and his Final Dawn were, however, seemingly just as important to the woman's schemes because the reason why it was that Xuan Vo was here and not out preparing for a push into Enclave space was because the Dark Voice wasn't so certain that inflating the imperialist's ego any further would have quite the same effect as it had on the leader of the Ren. Vo was here to keep an eye on things and funnel information back into the Dark Voice's ear, probably to keep the leadership that showed up happy and free of interference and to give the Sith an idea of what their true thoughts were - something she was certain would be self-censored if she had been present herself.

Sularen had, predictably, chosen to show up via hologram. Vo had decided to show up in person, answering the call just as she had been directed by Darth Mori moments after she had received it. Unlike the majority of those present, Vo wasn't quite what came to mind when the idea of leadership was thrown around - she wasn't a force sensitive, so she wasn't a Sith, and she wasn't the leader of one of the many tribes of the Maw, all she had to offer was military experience that she was more often than not simple background noise in the grand scheme of things. What she did have to offer, however, was a distinct lack of shortsightedness.

Even still, while Kyrel spoke his mind about the results of Teta, she kept quiet. It was hard to argue with results, even if those results had been more or less intentional. She glanced around at the others present, primarily towards Tu'teggacha and Zachariel Steelblood , to see what their perspective on matters were. Mori had partaken with the efforts on Teta, and she'd illustrated to her that she viewed it as a necessary loss - but it didn't seem she had explained that point of view to Kyrel because without that context in mind Vo would have found herself agreeing with the way he framed the immediate aftermath of Tython's loss.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective: Regroup
Tags: Kyrel Ren | Kybo Ren | Tu'teggacha | Romund Sro | Marlon Sularen | Xuan Vo​

Focused on the holoprojector, Zachariel nevertheless noticed when Tu'teggacha joined them, and noted the admiral's arrival as well. One, he knew well, for they had both served long under Solipsis. Nodding to the one who could often make or break warbands, he silently wondered just what the Taskmaster of the Maw would say in regards to all that had happened. The other arrival was an unknown to him, an admiral of the Final Dawn. Though, considering Marlon was here as their representative, she was an outlier.

Oh, this Kybo was as well, but he was a Sith, such self important thoughts were bound to run rampant within his mind. No. This Admiral Xuan Vo was different, unique. Either she believed herself of such high standing as to be here, she believed she counted as part of the leadership of the Maw and not just a high ranking puppet, or she represented someone. And as Zachariel looked her over, he realized the last option was the most likely option. But who? Marlon was here, so that ruled him out, Kyrel was the same. Perhaps a warlord, an independent faction, or someone far higher than an admiral had a right to contact.

Regardless of who she represented, they must be powerful. Otherwise there would have been more fear there, unless she was just insane which was also a likely option. Turning his head from her as Kyrel began to speak, Zachariel would make sure his words were guarded, lest whoever this mysterious benefactor gain too much from their representative. And perhaps he would learn just who commanded this admiral, if any did.

The Wrath of the Maw spoke, painting a dire picture for them. Whatever happened, this would be a desperate fight against the enemy alliance, moreso than other battles had been. And no doubt, whoever led it would be blamed or praised for whatever happened. Snorting, Zachariel realized why Kyrel told the rest of them to speak their minds. Should one of their plans be followed through, the blame could be shifted should the worst come to pass, or the credit be taken by the Master of the Rens himself. Smart.

Turning his gaze to Kyrel once Kybo finished speaking, Zachariel rumbled out his own response.
"The Core campaign ended the moment we failed on Tython." Gesturing towards the holoprojector and a map of the local galactic sector, he sneered. "We didn't take these worlds to conquer them, but to bleed them dry and strike at the heart of the galaxy."

Leaning forward, he rested an arm on the table as he looked around.
"We are weakened, but far from broken. The same goes for the alliance gathered against us. But they, even moreso than ourselves, are desperate for victory, to take back what's theirs. Empress Teta showed them we can be beaten back, so they will be eager to do it again. Let them try."

His gaze shifted and he nodded to Kybo before focusing back on the galactic map.
"He is correct, we are masters of raiding and slaying. Why stop now? The Core campaign is over, the alliance eager to push us back. Let them come to these worlds, only to find them barren and lifeless. They will come in force, thinking we will fight tooth and nail for what we've claimed." Gesturing to the wider galaxy, towards worlds around the spear thrust. "What worlds will they leave under defended, what riches ripe for the plunder? Think of all those undefended worlds, full of cattle waiting to become slaves that will serve us."

Turning to face Kyrel, the smirk beneath his helmet was palpable.
"We need neither retreat, nor salvage this campaign. They expect either of us and will focus their efforts here. I say they should find dead worlds, with nothing to be found. Let us strike elsewhere, as we always have. Our forces require replenishment, their populations shall be all too eager to serve. I say we should strike out and claim what's rightfully ours. Let them reclaim our trash while we claim their treasures. For the Avatars, let their worlds burn anew!"

 

[Marlon Sularen]

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H E L T E R_S K E L T E R

FINAL DAWN
O'REEN, UNKNOWN REGIONS

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Sularen listed as Kyrel Ren began the summit speaking of the recent setback the Maw had suffered at Tython and Empress Teta and how he issued the order to establish this new Auxiliary Force, in which he deemed as temporary until their current problems were resolved. While such a move was somewhat necessary, Sularen questioned why Ren made use of the Maw's Enslaved Workforce rather then simply carrying out a few raids across the Outer Rim, kidnapping unsuspecting individuals and forcing them into their ranks, which was one of the many methods utilized by the Final Dawn itself to keep it's ranks replenished. Ren then spoke of how the Maw had two choices, to either hold their ground and salvage their campaign or simple abandon everything and retreat.

Kybo Ren, a member of Kyrel's Knights of Ren first suggested that they try to hold their ground, forcing the Galactic Alliance into attrition warfare as to force them to reconsider their push into the Core Worlds, however regardless even if the Maw stalled their advance at Foerost or Xa Fel, the Alliance could easily encircle Mawite Forces at Selvaris and cut them off. The unfortunate positioning of the Mawite Corridor into the Core meant that such an option was extremely risky considering at how the Alliance could easily replenish losses in comparison to the Maw, which now had to resort to desperate means such as the establishment of an Auxiliary Force to resolve their Manpower issues.

It was then that Xuan Vo, another member of the Final Dawn arrived to join the summit. She was an odd addition to this meeting considering at how Sularen was already present meaning that she was perhaps representing someone outside the Final Dawn and the Mawite Tribes, regardless whatever thoughts Sularen had on that matter would soon be swept aside when Zachariel Steelblood spoke. Steelblood made good points as he spoke, speaking at how the Alliance would only grow more bold and overconfident in their efforts to kick the Maw out of the Core, traits that had been displayed in previous battles. But he spoke about trying to launch raids on other regions of the Alliance, take advantage of the Alliance's over commitment to the Maw Corridor to strike elsewhere. The only problem was that there remained the possibility that the Alliance would expect such a move considering that was exactly the very situation that allowed the Maw to invade the Core Worlds in the first place during their attack at Copero.

Nevertheless once Zachariel Steelblood finished speaking, Sularen proceeded to speak. "Steelblood is correct in his assessment of the Alliance's attitude Post-Tython. They are growing bold and overconfident, believing that they will easily dislodge our hold in the occupied territories of the Core Worlds. The Only issue is that abandoning such worlds will only plug the gap and give them the opportunity to strike at our worlds, especially if we decided to strike elsewhere which is the same type of situation that allowed us to push into the Core worlds in the first place. Rather, it would be best if we held on the the worlds we still controlled in the Core Worlds, fortify them in preparation for the Alliance's advance, force the Alliance into attrition warfare and outright halt their counter-offensive which will have a bigger impact on their morale as it will shatter their overconfidence overnight."

"In addition we should try to exploit the ongoing tensions between the Empire and the Alliance which could buy us more time and cause the Alliance to waste more resources and manpower on fighting the Empire rather then fighting us. Already the Alliance and the Empire have clashed at New Alderaan and it is certain that more confrontations between the former allies might happen. I already have some Surplus Imperial assets from my time as an officer of the New Imperial Armada, which could be utilized to conduct false-flags against the Alliance, false-flags that could be used to trigger more skirmishes between the Alliance and Imperials and prolong any further action against us in the Corridor."

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Tags | Kyrel Ren | Kybo Ren | Tu'teggacha | Romund Sro | Xuan Vo | Zachariel Steelblood ​

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[Romund Sro]

Objective: Come up with a game plan
Tags: Kybo Ren | Kyrel Ren | Tu'teggacha | Xuan Vo | Zachariel Steelblood | Marlon Sularen

Romund’s blue hologram patiently sat back in his seat and took in what the others had to say as well as their feedback on all that was occurring. Everyone except Tu’teggacha and the newest arrival, Xuan Vo who was a Final Dawn admiral to his understanding. He likely wasn’t the only one there that found her inclusion a little redundant as Sularen was in attendance. Could this be a not so subtle play to have an extra vote, or voice on hand? Or was there something else at play behind the scenes? Romund himself wouldn’t comment on that just yet.

Clearing his though the holographic 3D image of Romund fixed his top hat on his head before speaking up himself. “I believe I largely have to agree with the words of our Berserker Brethren, Mr. Steelblood. We could use the Galactic Alliance’s drive on retaking territory to our advantage. A scorched earth type of play from us might do wonders in making every mile they reoccupy more and more heartbreaking for them. War is naturally a detriment to the Jedi, it can weaken their resolve and connection to the force, Hell, maybe even some of them will fall from their order. Perhaps we could even recruit some of their own talent to use against them.” Romund was rather fond of any psychological warfare that could be utilized on Alliance and their Jedi lackeys.

“Though that’s obviously not a reliable outcome, willpower and morale are unpredictable and there's no good reason to invest solely on such an outcome. Which brings me to Mr. Sularen’s suggestion. From my understanding the Alliance and Empire haven’t been on the best of terms lately and tensions have been rising. Perhaps a false flag attack could open the doors for a three way war and an extra front for the Galactic Alliance to deal with.” Personally though Romund wasn’t really thrilled at the prospect of going toe to toe with the Empire again any time soon. Having lost his body back on Noris against the 117th Stormtrooper Division. Romund would never, COULD NEVER, admit to the very real fear he now has for stormtroopers. Not even the Jedi’s own Valery Noble could achieve the same effect on him.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

There was always something to be learned in a meeting such as this.

Tu'teggacha did not care about knowledge for its own sake, of course. He was not scholar, craving the simple thrill of discovery. He sought only actionable information, secrets that would help him to protect himself and expand his own power and influence. At the end of the day, he did not care for the Brotherhood's fate except as a vehicle for his own safety and success. But it was exactly that, for he had attached himself to the rising Maw more than fifteen years ago, and now there was nowhere else in the galaxy he could go - his war crimes were too serious to come back from. He could only hope that the Maw endured.

He would help it endure, of course. That was why he needed this knowledge.

The Wrath laid out the situation, and it was as dire as the Taskmaster had expected. For the first time, the Brotherhood had lost territory. For a power like the Galactic Alliance or Empire, this would not be such a setback; their borders had fluctuated before, and would again. They were large enough, and had sufficient industrial capacity, to swiftly bounce back from the loss of a planet or three and begin a counterattack. But the Brotherhood was different. Though they held a not-insignificant territory in the Galactic North, they had always been focused on the attack, pushing relentlessly forward, keeping up their momentum.

It was the steady flow of slaves and plunder that had kept their war machine going...

... and now that flow had been interrupted, with huge troops losses to boot.

As Kybo said, a string of defeats like this would surely break the Maw. Not only would their smaller industrial capacity fail to keep up with this rate of casualties, but the losses would also strain the faith of the Warlords. The Maw was fractious and brittle, and many of its most powerful commanders would only stay in line for as long as the Brotherhood could bring them victory. They saw themselves less as members of a professional military hierarchy and more as independent operators fighting together to multiply their strength. If the Maw began consistently losing, they would depart and seek their victories elsewhere.

That would begin a downward spiral that would surely shatter the Brotherhood...

... for as more warlords left, the losses would surely mount...

... and that would make yet more warlords leave.

An endless circle of cause and effect...

... until the bitter, final end.

To avoid that, Kybo and Steelblood both hit upon the same idea: to return to the Brotherhood's roots. If the Maw was going to continue to fight these brutal frontline conflicts, they needed to find their resources elsewhere, and that meant going back to raiding less-defended worlds. The slaves and plunder from minor planets, struck without warning and stripped of everything of value, would give the Brotherhood enough fuel to keep fighting the grinding battles for major worlds. Tu'teggacha nodded his bulbous head, glassy black eyes keen and alert. This was a path forward that he could agree with. It played to their strengths.

Sularen spoke of fortifying the Maw's conquests in the Core Worlds, but that was Sularen. He was no zealot of the Maw, focused on cleansing the galaxy or burning his name into the stars through sheer destruction. He craved a domain, a realm to rule, and that made him as reluctant to surrender the Brotherhood's gains as the Alliance was eager to retake them. There would be a struggle here, a struggle between Sularen's imperial ambitions - and his goals of manipulating Alliance against Empire to help secure them - and Steelblood's callous, calculated suggestion that the Maw simply turn these worlds to ash.

Romund Sro spoke up to agree with elements of each perspective; he was for the scorched earth plan, but also for the plan to increase tensions between Empire and Alliance, ideally to the point of war. If that was possible, Tu'teggacha believed it to be a worthy goal. The Alliance had shown it still had strength enough to repel, and even push back, the Brotherhood. That meant that the Maw needed to use whatever means necessary to bleed away that strength, and encouraging it into a war with another galactic superpower would be a highly effective means. With the way things were going, it might happen on its own.

"This is an Age of Hunger," the Taskmaster spoke up, making his own views known for the first time. "Bloodied by our first true defeats, we now cannibalize ourselves for the short-term strength to continue the fight. This is unsustainable. Kybo and Steelblood speak the truth - we must return to the old ways. Our fleets must strike far and wide, ravaging unsuspecting worlds for the supplies we need to keep up the fight. If we continue to use up our own reserves, we can keep fighting for only a short time." As the master of the Brotherhood's logistical network, he knew exactly how short.

"So let us distract the Alliance from pushing their offensive however we can - heightening tensions between them and the Empire may serve that purpose. And in the meantime, let the raiding fleets range far beyond our traditional hunting grounds. Let them strike at old enemies - the Eternal Empire, the Mandalorian Enclave, nations less depleted by this grinding war. If we take what is theirs, we can keep up our strength. And when the Alliance makes its next attack, we will be ready." Or so he hoped. There was no other way, for the Brotherhood could not go on burning through its reserves.

Kyrel Ren | Zachariel Steelblood | Kybo Ren | Romund Sro | Marlon Sularen | Xuan Vo​