Junction Last Hour | EE/AC/BotM/Empire Junction of Farboon/Thule/Altiria/Tammar (SGHW)

[Elysium Dusk]

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Post: 1
Objective: Reaper
Location: Outposts, Canthar
Equipment: Dusk Reaper x2 | Hair Sticks (Concealed knives) | CrushGasunts | Explosive Knife | Throwing Daggers | Double-bladed boot | X2 Laser knife | Neuronic whip | Multi-weapon | Smoke Bombs | Morturian energy disk | Echani light armor
Allies: Heinrich Faust | Ingrid L'lerim | Victor Vel Aath | Myri Dara | DECEASED Aron Gowrie | Tyrell Lockhart | Scipio Kaarz | Bex Tarring | Saul Vandron | Hiran Avola
Enemies: Thomas Barran | Keilara Kala'myr | Kyrel Ren
Tags: Kyrel Ren

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Bzzzt four tiny discs like objects fired up the plasma edges a bluish hue just seconds before they embed them in the throats of four of @Kyrel Rens soldiers' necks. It wasn't long and the monsters were bleeding from their newly gained throat holes and choking on the small discs now cutting off the oxygen supply they needed to talk. The figure that had thrown the disc was quickly on the move knowing that stay in one place was an automatic death sentence as they were severally outnumbered. As much as they would like to have staired down the named soul who Ta-ree had claimed for reaping.

Unlike most of Ashlan Crusade Elysium had not come here for some diplomatic meeting. No, she had come because she had been called a soul had been named to be reaped. Her swords hummed as she moved across the broken ground of the outpost. Her swords hungered as well for the souls of the wicked those deemed corrupted beyond redemption. Elysium believed the swords hungered for Ta-ree or what some called Ashla, that the swords where their gift to her. Elysium was angel of Mercy sent to deliver swift death to the wicked.

Her feet moved quickly along the ground as she darted between building moving to a new point behind a burnt out husk of a building in the outpost. Her gloved hand reached down and touched her one the Dusk Reaper swords. It hummed a little different as she touched it. "Yes, Kyrel is close." It was the soul that Ta-ree had named though that name was infamous word was spreading of the Wrath of The Maw. He was not someone to take lightly and Elysium knew that Ta-ree was putting her to the test.

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
LAST HOUR
EMBRACE OF DARKNESS
Sahar | Saul Vandron

THE HUNT
​

It was only recently that the Son of the Empire unveiled his true face. The past decade had seen him under the protective veil of alias at 'MIMIC', the Mandalorian Imperial Military Institute of Concordia, one of the very few and very proficcient academies approved by Imperial High Command to mold officers for service in the Imperial armed forces. Following the death of Irveric, Kriegan was raised under an alias to protect him not only from those who might've sought the life of the Imperial heir- but to protect his character from the warping of sensibility that the weight of the name carried in such an environment. The potential for favoritism and biases were too great to give him a true soldier's education. While Corvallis was raised under the tutelage of the Knights and learned the blade- Kriegan was raised behind the buttstock of a blaster.

Early mornings of physical conditioning, hours of blocks of instruction perfecting the methodology of leading men and women into war and dispensing death across the battle space occupied his life for the entirety of his adolescence. It was not until he was commissioned as an officer of the Stormtrooper Corps, 501st Legion that he unveiled his true name to those around him. While he'd seen minor operations in several of the Empire's counter-insurgency campaigns across its own space- now was the time to truly uproot himself from the nestling embrace of the Iron Sun.

The son of one dynasty ventured to the home of another bloodline brought low by his own, a poetic entrance to a symphony long past its thunderous climax. That march of defiance had long ceased but even still- Kriegan trailed the legacy of his father in an upbringing through the crucible of a soldier's life. As Irveric did- Kriegan was no politician or statesman, he was a soldier first and foremost. The solid lines of red tape and diplomatic nausea were hardly a welcome change of pace from the vigorous bandit fighting operations Kriegan was used to. But it was a soldier's obligation to be ready for changes in any operation variable be it political, social, economic- the list goes on.

<"Not too far out, sir."> He piped up to the General grade officer. A bit of a surreal circumstance regardless of his origins. He understood the operational context of the mission but in truth- he wanted to make contact. He wanted the rush of combat. Harassing merchants and conducting mundane route clearance could only scratch that itch so much. The Maw was here and he wanted to snap close those jaws. The reports over the radio of a Mawite attack rose hairs up the back of his neck as he snapped open the breach of his service carbine to ensure he had a full power pack loaded before cracking it back together with a low beep signaling it was locked, cocked and loaded.

He slung his carbine before pressing down on the commo of his wrist mounted tacpad.

<"Get us exfil to the contact point. If the Maw is here we're snuffing them out, yes?"> He all but commanded to his HQ detachment's communications specialist to which a prompt 'Yes Sir' emitted from the commo. Soon they'd be in the thick of it- if Kriegan had any role to play. Even if the decision to completely reroute the Platoon's mission under the direct hand of the 501st's Commander was as maverick as a move as it was- it was mission essential.

<"Three minutes and we'll be dropped right over them, sir."> Tavlar relayed to Vandron, his voice as ever methodical and frigid as his father's was in similar events. Ready to do what needed to be done.

<"Be careful, Leftenant...this isn't your run of the mill doorkicking op on some sorry ass rebels, you know."> Tavlar's platoon sergeant, Master Sergeant TK-179, or simply put 'Cole', a long time veteran of the 501st trailing back to the assault on Vjun piped up in critique of his officer.

<"I like the enthusiasm but keep your wits about you- put our troopers in the wrong spot against the Maw and we're leaving this fucking jungle wrapped in flags."> He said before eventually nodding once to Kriegan to continue as he was regardless, an omen of caution to the young officer he was charged with advising.

<"Copy."> Kriegan replied, tending to genuinely take his word with weight. Even still- he wanted to finally engage the enemy, the truest enemy there was. The Maw.

It wasn't much longer until a three ship squadron of RDAGs were hovering over them to pick up Tavlar's platoon, 'Enigma'.

They boarded them up with a motion of command from Tavlar before stepped into the troop bay of the lead Gunship himself, peering up to view an accompanying element he was hardly expecting. An Imperial Knight.

<"Looks like news spreads quick. Good to have you join us, Knight."> Tavlar remarked to Sahar, arching a brow silently beneath his helmet as he settled into a seat in the troop bay.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Objective: Meet with the other factions' representatives.
Location: Imperial Outpost, Panatha
Equipment: The Soulsabers (hidden) | Brynja coat and hat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Scipio Kaarz | DECEASED Aron Gowrie | Bex Tarring | Nukth Kelga'an | Open
Allies: EE/AC/Empire | Open
Enemies: Maw | Open

[ Valley of Death ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Since this was an Imperial base, there were Wolfguards in the room to guard Ingrid. As Gowrie stepped closer, the red ship woman just gave a small nod of her head and the two soldiers went back to their places, allowing Gowrie to approach her. She nodded at the man's words. The red-haired woman understood why Barran didn't come in person, just as she understood why Demici didn't come in person either. In a different situation, she probably would have sent delegates too instead of going to the base personally. Although, she was quite a workaholic and could still leave the Overlord behind in the Empire while she left the Empire's territory…

"I am grateful to the Lord-Regent for sending you and your men." she told him.

She nodded to the other officers as well, then turned to the mirialan man.

"Magister! When you return home, give my greetings to the cardinal." she answered.

After that she waited for the men to sit down. She didn't do it, she preferred to speak while standing, especially since it was easier to point on the holographic map while standing. Even if it was solid state holographic technology.

"You probably also know that Panatha is the homeworld of the Zambrano family, and the locals respect them as gods. The trouble started when I banished and exiled Darth Carnifex and Darth Prazutis from the planet after they tried to kill both Lord Grayson and me. Since then, the entire system has rebelled against the authority of the Eternal Empire. All of this is manageable and not part of the problem, we handle it easily. The bigger issues that made the three factions decide to create a common base was that the Sith had returned. We don't know that these are people of the Zambrano family, people of the Maw, although we know that the new leader of the Maw is also a Zambrano. Or maybe other groups. The point is that they are here and have quite a lot of support and resources." she started.

She was silent for a few moments and brought the neighbourhood, the capital, the mountains, the jungle and part of the ocean onto the holographic projector.

"Just a month ago, we eliminated a Sith cult and sect in the capital, parts of it were also found in the mountains. After the sect disappeared, the darkness also disappeared, but after that it returned with renewed strength, stronger and now surrounds the entire planet. Its centre is somewhere in this area, in the mountains, our base, and the ruins of the capital. The source cannot be found by the Force, it is everywhere. For obvious reasons, the Eternal Empire does not want Sith in its territory…"

 

[Khione]

Location: Bakura, en route to Panatha
Tags: Bella
Equipment:
Piloting - Torr'Chir
Eyes of Khoine
Pulsiva flight suit
2x Cartridge Revolvers
Retractable Neural Stinger

Accompanied by three squadrons of eight Chir'Shada Starfighters

Squadron quipped with a mixture of proton torpedoes, Fex-M3 missiles and Witchfire Missiles

The Palliduvan fighter pilot sat at the controls of her ship floating in space along with her brothers and sisters of the Emerald Nebula. Beneath her the giant shape of a Final Dawn Battlecruiser swept past, eager to enter the portal, let them go first, if the other end is trapped or prepared for an ambush, the Dawn's shields can absorb it then Khione could swoop and enact revenge, there was a wicked smile on her face, this mission was one of brutality, they were equipped with enough Witchfire and FEX-M3 to devastate the light siders. She was not party to the tactical decisions to take Panatha, but she would make sure that her attack helped send a message that noone was safe to defy the will of the Avatars.

"sluit s foelies en gaan hek op my lei. Betrek springmeesters en gaan voort na navigasiepunt na Panatha sodra ons aankoms bevestig het." lock s foils and enter gate on me. Engage jumpmasters and proceed to navigation point to Panatha once we confirm arrival. Her fighter lurched forward not long after the Final Dawn vessel and she followed it through the giant gateway into the wormhole beyond.

Minutes later the stars returns and her navicomputer quickly informed her that she was at the Bakura hypergate. There was already fighting going on so her and her squadrons needed to form up and progress quickly. "draak een, rapporteer en vorm op"dragon one, report and form up Khione barked into her comms as she saw one of her fighters come screaming out of the hypergate apparently out of control, he flew quickly past her other squadrons and toward the awaiting enemy. There was no answer. "twee neem jy draak, drie, vier, op my om ons dwalende broer te jaag." two you take dragon, three, four, on me to chase our errant brother She hit her drives and accelerated to catch the tumbling Chir'shada quickly. This was an annoying delay, but she did not wish to lose a squadron leader like this. He would make it up to her later, she would make certain of that.

 

[Aschwin Vethres]

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Aschwin Cassirer Vethres
Imperial Knight Templar
Heir of House Vethres
Shield of Bal Talmshaa

Location: World of Bakura
Tags: Rebirth , Maestus
Equipment:
Imperial Knight Armor
Aschwin Curved Lightsaber
Post Number: Two

Aschwin brought his armored hand to his face for just a brief moment in time as a powerful ripple through the force slammed into him. The colors of the force shifted to black and red around him. It was similar to the dark side of the force yet so much more chaotic and unfocused. Within his mind the voice of Colonel Vulk O'ren could be heard bringing him back to the reality of the situation around him.

"Knight Vethres; Vethres!, Vethres!!!" : The Colonel shouted towards his direction as the storm within his mind finally cleared fully. "Apologizes; Colonel. What is it?" Aschwin said having calmed down considerably and gazed into the distance beyond the first supply zone's perimeter. "Scout Unit 206 was found dead near the barnath plains by Units 305 & 506. Right before this discovery a large energy signature was detected." The Colonel explained reading over the report on the datapad within his hands. He had equipped himself with Imperial Officer Battle Armor which was nothing more than a breastplate and a helmet with goggles with a standard imperial pistol equipped into his holster.

"Have all scout units return to our camp. Section 3 , Section 4 and Section 5 will begin the construction of a landing platform for reinforcements and supply ships. Section 6 & 7 will begin gathering any local materials we can use for fortifications." Aschwin's took over for the colonel in issuing orders to the Imperial Stormtrooper Corps within the Bakura Task Force. The first order of business was the construction of a landing platform for reinforcements and imperial supplies. Getting them up and running was vital to securing themselves on this foreign planet. The gathering of local materials was also considered second in vitality to build fortifications around their camp to protect against local wildlife and potential hostiles.

While the Military Engineering Sections of the Task Force focused on following his orders to the letter. Aschwin gathered the stormtroopers with the most merit and placed them in command positions to form a more effective system of command. Splitting up the Military Arm of the Task Force into 3 Battlegroups dubbed "46, 78 and 49." and having them be given semi-autonomous operational status to bring out the creativity within the men to secure the battlefield. Battlegroup 46 was assigned to the northern theatre to dig trenches and spike traps to block the enemy's advance as Mawite Raiders could be seen in the distance. Battlegroup 78 was assigned to protect the supply zones that they were going to establish once they moved forward from base command.

Aschwin himself would lead Battlegroup 49 to a high ridge overlooking a flat area. Having his communication's officer set up an encrypted line to the Colonel at Base Command. Transmissions were sent by a 3 wave frequency which only played parts of the messages in Imperial Code which would then be translated by the communication team at Base Command. This system was designed to discourage any attempts to slice into the communication line to find out his next play. Aschwin's eyes gazed out from the high ridge into the surrounding landscape.

Grabbing a pair of binoculars from ST-35596 and bringing them up to his eyes. If the Mawite Force had managed to sneak past the Eternal Imperial Fleet and the Imperial Empire's Navy than they must have something nearby which allows them to deploy to Bakura. The Task Force would need to destroy the maw's pathway into the Home Corridor.
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[Vaux Gred]

Gear: Modified Trayc'kal, Zygerrian Electro-Whip, Flare, PS-1 Particle Shotgun, Glastros Undercover Armor, Ultralight flight Beskar'gam
Tags: Anashja Tal Silhana Cadera Khamul Kryze

Vaux wouldn't usually be caring her entire kit, but today she wasn't in the cockpit. No. She was helping patrol. Things had been somewhat uneasy in the galaxy in recent months, and the Mandalorian wasn't entirely sure how her clan would handle it. Right now though she focused on keeping her eyes out for anything. She then heard the comms chatter, and chuckled a bit.

"Trust me Sil, dead and boring is still good to confirm. If you want a drink though I'll buy if you can push through this."

 

[Ronar]

Objective: Accompany the Bloodhound
Location: Markwood Marshes, Spirewatch Forest, Canthar Province, Panatha (Early-Spring 877 ABY)
Allies: BOTM/DH/SH - Thomas Barran Erion Justeene Keilara Kala'myr
Enemies: EE/Empire/AC
Loadout: Bloodreaver vibroaxe, cortosis sword, SHT-07 "Hound" armor, HH-38 "Geysa" hybrid pistol

~Sometime Before the Battle~

Ronar knelt in his private chambers at the Scar Hound fortress on Mar’Zambul. For once, the fearsome marauder was completely silent, completely still, and completely lost in thought. Ever since he and the Violet Wolves had returned from Mustafar, he had been unable to shake the sense of heaviness that had grown over his shoulders. He couldn’t quite pin it down, though it felt somewhat like…regret. Like a hound chasing a rabbit he tore through the trees of his mind, trying to destroy the thought that dared make such an accusation.

However, he could not deny that things had not gone as he had expected since joining the Maw’s forces. True, he had gained great position and the respect of a great warchief, and his Violet Wolves, three of which stood in the corners of the room in silent vigil, were rapidly becoming powers to behold. But still, it seemed as though every battle in which he engaged ended up a failure or a time of indecision. No matter how hard he fought, how many pathetic worms he squashed beneath his boot, they always managed to overcome. The great victories of his past felt like fog dissipating beneath the sun as they fled deeper and deeper into the recesses of memory.

“Dawi,” Ronar spoke, “Bloodreaver. My whetstone. Immediately.” The tall, imposing man, biggest of the Wolves and their de facto explosives expert, turned on his heel and reached into an alcove from which he extracted the infamous vibroaxe and a crude whetstone marked with tribal symbols. This he brought before his warchief, who stretched out his hands.

“Kellain, Hornath,” Ronar spoke again, “The symbols. Now.” The two men, almost identical in height though the former was slightly thinner, came forward with small pots of paint. Though Ronar was not a spiritual man, the using of tribal symbols to infuse strength and dexterity was infused into his culture, and the procedure brought comfort and reminders that he desperately needed. One to each hand the Wolves painted a pattern of spirals on the backs of Ronar’s hands. Once complete, they stood aside, and Ronar began the laborious, yet soothing task of sharpening his vibroaxe’s deadly edge.

He had made only a single pass when a loud knock sounded at the closed chamber door. Ronar froze, his blood, already simmering, threatening to suddenly and forcefully boil over.

“Dawi,” he said softly, “If that person is not Tegash, kill them. If it is Tegash, and he has a very good reason, bring him here. If he doesn’t, well, use your imagination.” The burly Wolf nodded and moved to the door, pulling it open to speak with whoever stood beyond. Ronar made another pass on his blade, the sound of stone against metal calming him, if only slightly. He didn’t hear screams, so he had to assume that the man was Tegash, the youngest member of the team and their de facto medic. Ronar had sent him on an errand sometime earlier, and told him specifically not to return until a predetermined time. Now, to see if he had a good reason for interrupting his warchief’s meditation.

Finally, Dawi and Tegash, the younger, thinner, shorter Wolf dwarfed beside his menacing colleague, appeared before Ronar. Both stood straight, their expressions unreadable behind their faceless masks.
“Speak, Tegash,” Ronar declared.

“My warchief, the forces have returned from Empress Teta,” said the Mawite warrior, unflinching. Ronar perked up at this, hand grasping Bloodreaver just a little more tightly.

“And?” Ronar asked.

“The Bloodhound was injured, seemingly quite severely,” Tegash continued, “He requests your presence in the medical bay. Immediately.” Ronar practically leapt to his feet. He handed Bloodreaver to Dawi and thundered out of the door. Sharpening the weapon could wait.

If the Bloodhound wanted to see him, it meant one thing.

A chance for Ronar to gain the victory he so desperately deserved.

~The Day of the Battle~

Ronar hated sneaking around. True, ambushes were one of his tribe’s most effective weapons, and something he had spent the days since Tython endlessly drilling into his men, but he still didn’t like it. He wanted to charge his enemies, striking fear into their hearts before he ripped them free from their flailing chest cavities. He wanted to cut and he wanted to crush. The Geysa pistol on his hip, taken from the Maw armories, ached to be used. Ronar longed for blood, especially since the indecisive battle at Mustafar and his missing of the battle on Empress Teta. Only blood and battle would purge the heaviness that he still felt tugging at his soul.

As he and the Violet Wolves moved swiftly yet silently through the fog-filled forest, Ronar’s thoughts drifted yet again to the Bloodhound, who had assumed command of Ronar and his men in this engagement, his own wounds making it impossible for him to go alone. A part of Ronar knew he should be honored. Warchief or not, he was still very much a small fry amongst the Scar Hound tribe, a fact he neither appreciated nor accepted. However, the other part of him couldn’t help but wonder if this was an opportunity. A chance to advance his position by taking advantage of his superior’s weakness.

Among his tribe, weakness had never been tolerated. If a warrior was deemed weak, they were discarded, or forced to prove their comrades wrong through a great test of strength. If a leader was weak, he was challenged, and if he failed, he was deposed. By such a manner, the strongest possible warrior was always on top, ensuring the success of those beneath him. The Bloodhound had been a fearsome leader in the time since Ronar had joined the Scar Hounds, but in such a weakened state, was he truly still deserving of his title?

Memories of Tython flowed over Ronar’s mind, driving such sacrilegious thoughts away. He remembered when he had knelt before the Bloodhound, and felt the power that the man commanded. Even now he could feel it through the fog, the slight pressure that added to the heaviness wearing down his soul. Injured or not, the man was far from weak. He might not be able to face an enemy general face to face in this state, but he could still fight. Against such power, Ronar was still out of his league. He hated that fact, his blood boiling at the simple thought of being forced to accept a lower position. And yet, he already had. Warchief or not, he had sworn to the Bloodhound, and to break such an oath was anathema to every tribal custom that had been burned into him since childhood. As long as the Bloodhound could fight, and win, he commanded Ronar’s loyalty.

“RONAR!!!! SUPERIOUS!!!! ON ME!!!!” came the call through the fog. Ronar and his Wolves responded immediately, melting out of the fog to gather around the Scar Hound warlord.

“It is time we had a wee chat about ranks and titles! Status earned for your efforts thusfar!” Ronar’s heart skipped a beat. Was he about to be promoted? Recognized? Given title on the eve of battle? Even with his failure to obtain a total victory, the Bloodhound still wished to commend him?

Ronar’s eyes narrowed slightly behind the mask of his Hound armor. Some part of him didn’t trust this. The Bloodhound had been very free, almost disgustingly so, with his giving of titles, at least to Ronar’s eyes. He appreciated them, of course, but he couldn’t help but wonder if there was some other agenda, something lurking beneath the surface of the Bloodhound’s cavernous mind.

But, such thoughts could wait. Now was not the time for musings. Now was the time for blood, battle, and unfettered rage.

“But first - please help me up to my feet.... I need to find the painkiller-stims again.” commanded the Bloodhound. Ronar moved to his side, extending an armored arm.

“Tegash,” he ordered, “Painkillers for the warlord, now.”

 

[Silhana Cadera]

Silhana Lolaes'ra
Lynne Tal’kira aka Lady Orchid; The Angel-faced killer
Ver'alor (Lieutenant), member of the Clan Cadera; Bounty Hunter, Headmistress of the House Orchid and The Hounty Hunters' Guild​

Objective: Protect her home
Location: Surface, Evaar'la Yaim
Equipment: 2x PV-16 "Sunfury" Pulse Pistol | 2x Simple short sword | Light armour | Mandalorian vambrace || Stealth field generator || OPBC-01m
Allies: EE/AC/Empire | Anashja Tal | Vaux Gred | Open
Enemies: Maw | Khamul Kryze | Open

[ Mando music ]
"Galactic Basic" | <"Mandalorian"> | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ | << comm. channel >>​

<< I'm in; girls' night out? >> I asked Ana and Vaux.

This wouldn't be the first time that we would hold such a party, since there was also that day when we celebrated the fact that all the clans moved to the planet, I mean we finished moving. Then it was Adenn Kyramud who told stories and we all listened to him. Although I felt quite an outsider at the time, because everyone was talking about the family, Vaux was the only one who tried to reassure me that she wasn't exactly the mother type either and that it was okay. It helped a lot.

<< Yes, I really liked the place where we celebrated settling on the planet. >> I answered. << Something dumb? Probably, but right now nothi… >>

My voice trailed off as my armour's systems sent a massive burst of energy to the west. At least a hundred and fifty to two hundred kilometres away. On the side of the planet where there really was nothing but lava fields. Nothing in that part survived the volcanic eruption. After the huge energy peak, a kind of energy radiation, background radiation still remained, which was quite unusual. I quickly ran the data; the monitoring stations here had not detected anything like this before. At least not since we've been on the planet and observing it.

<< I think there is something here. Did your systems sense this huge burst of energy? >> I asked them.

If the answer is no, since they were further away from me, I will continue and send them the coordinates as well.

<< Continuous background radiation was also created, I sent the coordinates. Since it's in my area, I'll go look around. But if you think about it, reinforcement never hurts. >>

With that, I turned in the direction from which the sensors sensed this and started flying in that direction, hoping to get some support from the girls.

 

[Kralmus Orr]

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Location: Evaar'la Yaim, Portal Perimeter
Tags: Silhana Cadera | Anashja Tal | Khamul Kryze | Vaux Gred

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"Can you feel it, my vode? This planet calls to us."

Kralmus Orr felt it. Stepping through the portal behind his Mand'alor, he took off his distinctive horned helmet and sucked in the air of a new world... a world of extremes, half magma-boiled and half frozen by nuclear winter. This was a world accustomed to devastation, a world that seemed to crave mass violence, to invite it from all the bloodthirsty denizens of the Unknown Regions. Kralmus was no student of history, preferring to live entirely in the present, but he knew that this place had once been the throneworld of another Mand'alor, and an exceptionally vicious one at that. In fact, he had met her, released her from her ancient stasis tomb.

That was how they knew of this place... and of the secret, mystical ways they could reach it without space travel.

"There will be many here to be tested," Mand'alor the Unchained continued, "and I expect you all to show them what it truly means to be a Mandalorian." Kralmus grinned at that, running his forked tongue across teeth filed down to sharp points. The warriors that Death's Hand had come here to challenge called themselves Mandalorians, but they were not true followers of the ancient culture, not in Kralmus's mind. They had gotten bogged down in honor and family and tradition, things that did not matter to him at all. The true essence and birthright of being Mandalorian, Kralmus believed, was conquest. They were the heirs of centuries of bloodshed.

In ages past, they had battled the Jedi and brought the Republic to its knees.

War, genocide, destruction - that was what had made them great.

But in the modern era, too many had forgotten all that.

"I will take a small party to eliminate any flies that may be waiting for us," Mand'alor continued. "The rest of you, maintain a perimeter. Do not let this portal fail. Should you meet any resistance, you are to strike without mercy." Then he turned and kicked his jetpack into action, leading his strike team off into the skies of Evaar'la Yaim. Kralmus sighed, but did not follow. His orders were clear; he was not part of the strike team, and so he was to hold the portal. Although most of the Mawite raiders for this campaign would be coming through the Bakura hypergate, this back door would allow them to open a second front within the Eternal Empire, causing even more havoc.

That havoc would make it worth the boredom of standing guard over the portal...

... though Kralmus still sorely hoped that someone would be foolish enough to attack the Mawite guards.

He was eager, as always, to test himself in battle... and to feel the thrill of spilling blood. For now, he waited for his chance.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Location: Lao-mon, Hypergate Entrance
Tags: Keilara Kala'myr

In the steaming jungles before the modified hypergate, the Taskmaster waited.

It was rare now that he spent any time at the front line of any battle. He'd had too many close brushes with death - at Csilla, at Korriban, and most of all at Tython, where he had been the lone survivor of his command ship - to willingly place himself at the center of battle ever again, and he had finally been given the excuse he craved to remain behind. The destruction of the Fatalis, his command ship for more than ten years of the long and grinding Second Great Hyperspace War, had given him a chance to escape fleet duties for a while. And then the new Dark Voice, Darth Mori, had expanded on that chance.

She had stitched the ravaged Fatalis back together with the power of the Force...

... and taken it as her own command ship, liberating the Ebruchi from it.

Now Tu'teggacha could remain in the part of the battle he much preferred - safely behind Mawite lines. He would have liked it better still if he could avoid the fight entirely, continuing his dark experiments in his laboratory complex on Exegol, but that was not an option. With the magnitude of the losses the Brotherhood had suffered over the past year, the Mawite war machine was struggling to keep up, and the Taskmaster's prodigious logistical knowledge was required to maintain vital lines of supply at the warfront. Besides, this campaign of raids against the Eternal Empire's heartland had been his idea.

He was the mastermind of the attack through Hypergate Bakura...

... and thus responsible for all the death and misery that would come of it.

But it did not bother Tu'teggacha to be the architect of widespread suffering. In his experience, you either made others suffer, or you were the one who did the suffering. He had been in both positions, and he much preferred causing pain and woe to receiving it. By engineering attacks like this one, and thereby attracting powerful patrons within the Brotherhood, he was building himself a protected status that would ensure that no one could ever bring him low again. And the crown jewel of his shadow empire of connections and secret weapons would be the offspring of his greatest creation... the children of The Mongrel.

He did not have them yet, of course. They were not yet even born, though that time was drawing close; the Ebruchi had watched the months crawl by, calculating and re-calculating the most likely moment when his future servants would enter the galaxy. He would have to capture their mother first, of course, but he was confident that he would succeed. His agents were everywhere, and they were always watching her, waiting for the order to close in. She was too strong at the moment for him to subdue, but he could contain her, prevent her escape. And when she was weakened by the rigors of childbirth...

... that was when he would strike, and the children would be his.

------------------------------------------
​

Deep within Mercy's mind, in a secret, sheltered place, the last piece of The Mongrel - Asher, as he had renamed himself on his final day - lived on. He was called Kallan, and he was the echo of the man that Asher had been more than fifteen years ago... before the Brotherhood had twisted him into a galactic scourge. He lived with someone who was just as broken as he was, within a mind that contained several divided personalities. He called one of them his wife, and that filled him with joy, for in the too-short life he had experienced before the Maw he had never found so great a love as he knew now.

But despite the love he felt, and the safety that the mind palace offered to him, Kallan felt worried. His wife, Keilara, was not the personality that was usually in control of the body they shared. That was Mercy, wife to Asher, and she was still suffering in the wake of her husband's death. Only the coming birth of their children, conceived through a miracle of the Force, had kept her from seeking to join Asher in death, and nothing Kallan or Keilara could say had been able to change her mind. When the children were born, when they were kept from danger, Mercy would lose her last reason to keep on living.

And lately, even that last remaining reason looked like it might not be enough.

~ Her pain is like a wall around her, ~ Kallan replied, nodding somberly at his wife's words. ~ She has reasons to live, people who care for her, but the pain of losing Asher has isolated her. She won't listen to us, won't let us help her. ~ He sighed, suddenly exhausted and sad and afraid. ~ I wish I knew how to help her, Keilara. I wish I knew the right things to say, or if there was something I could do to shake her out of this deep, dark place she's fallen into. ~ But Kallan was no counselor. He'd been a speeder mechanic before all this, fixing broken machines and tuning up vehicles.

Machines were easy to fix. Their problems had clear solutions.

People, though? They were a lot more complicated.

~ If she... leaves us, ~ he finally continued, voice catching in his throat, ~ If the children are left in our care, we will love them and raise them as our own, of course. But I wish... No, I hope, that we can find a way for their mother to stay with them. I hope that, when they are born, Mercy will see them for what they are - the memory of the love she and Asher shared, made physical. ~ It was all he could think of. If Mercy was too deep in her pain to listen to the people who cared about her, perhaps she could only overcome that pain by finding someone she cared about with all her heart.

Someone like the twin children who would soon be born.

 

[Iren Tel Alam]

​

Location: Above Panatha
Allies: Isar Artas Tel Alam
Opponents: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | Others are welcome to join!
Personal objective: Find more beasties

Once more Iren found himself strapped in tight into a chair of the boarding craft Artas was piloting.

They survived the first few times, so there was nothing telling him they wouldn't again. Even still his knuckles were rather blanched and even more pale than usual as they clenched tight against the strapping of his harness. "You know, sometimes I get the feeling you enjoy being as rough as possible with the landing, Art!" Over into the cockpit as he closed his eyes and resolved to focus on something else.

Something more pleasant.

Such as the beasties he'd be able to find on Panatha. It was a beautiful place. He could smell it from here. The ooze of decay, destruction and death. Really, the 3 D's you are worried about as a budding alchemist. The amount of wildlife here would be splendid. Rumors had it the Zambranos really went wild with their experimentation of the locals and the release of kriffed-up experiments.

Hopefully he'd be able to find some of them.

"Brother," Addressing Dal now as he glanced over to him. "-are we really going to be helping this 'ritual' of theirs? I am just as into ritual sacrifice and darkside rituals as the next one, but these Maw cultists are so rather..."

He licked his lips and cringed just a touch.

"...gauche. Did you know I saw one paint himself in the entrails of his enemies? That's some movie-trope type of chit, no?"

This was rich coming from the guy who was happily turning sentient species into hybrid-mixed killer dogs.

 

[Anashja Tal]

Objective: Patrol Evaar'la Yaim
Location: Frozen lava fields
Tags: Silhana Cadera Khamul Kryze Vaux Gred Kralmus Orr

Equipment: Beskar'gam, lightsabers, healing supplies, 3 thermal detonators, EF-M401e Rampage, Healing Blaster type A

Spoiler: Anashjas ship - in orbit

The Tal'din

Hangar complements of Læknar-class medical dropships

Anashja laughed to herself at the response from Vaux Gred , that was certainly true, peace and quiet was preferable to unnecessary violence. She continued on her route, rolling left and right through the towers of volcanic rock. Her comm crackled a little with the interference from the iron and silicon rich stone, but her armour compensated quickly, only causing her to lose very marginal information.

<< I think there is something here. Did your systems sense this huge burst of energy? >> I asked them.

<I've picked up something but am struggling to get a direct fix from where I am, I am going to get Tal'din overhead at the coordinates you have sent to get a better reading, I can have it in position in about 10 minutes.> Her medical corvette would be able to run additional scans from orbit to aid the vod and hopefully provide answers. <I am heading your way now, approaching from the other side of the.... hang on Sil, I'm getting something else here." now Anashja was clear of the rock formations her scanners were working and she was detecting an additional, much smaller signal.

<I am picking up an energy reading moving at high speed away from the anomaly, adjusting course to intercept.> Judging by the relative velocities she could intercept the target in a few minutes but Silhanna was closer to the ground based reading. With the sharing of telemetry between the allied Mandalorians, Sil would be aware of that too. <What is your position Vaux?> she asked the Gred as she saw two of her own red and white vod descent from the sky to flank her, having taken a detour from their own patrol routes. The signature she was chasing was moving at high speed and as she closed, it appeared to be a small group of engines, maybe missiles? Was this an attack?

<Vod> she spoke to Silhanna and Vaux, and any others on the channel, <I have a bad feeling about this, take care out there, may the force be with us.> she accelerated more, ascending higher to be able to come down onto the target if it proved to be one.

 

[Erion Justeene]

Objective: Pick a fight, fighting is good for the mind
Location: Markwood Marshes, Spirewatch Forest, Canthar Province, Panatha
Equipment: Lightsaber, Voidsaber, SHT-26 "Bedevil" Heavy War Bike
Tags: Thomas Barran | Ronar | Keilara Kala'myr

Was that mountain always like that? Superious had taken note of the structure. How off it looked to everything else. He had heard about the Enclave coming here as invaders and blowing up a mountain, Superious was indeed impressed by the sheer boldness of them to do such a thing. But he resisted a snarl of revulsion at the swampy quagmire.

He was one to talk, as he does bold and daring things too, but with an end goal in mind. Yet, here he was alongside the Maw, his instinct for war had been ignited and The Bloodhound enticed it out. Superious was good at fighting and adapting to a rapidly changing Galaxy.

There had to be a break in fighting too. So the Sith |Lord took it and didn’t venture to Empress Teta again. Besides he was needed at UbaIV for a huge cultural event, he would be pestered by Heidi if he didn’t show up and he hated being prodded. Besides, it was the biggest event for their people. But now, the time has come to raise his Saber for the Maw once more.

Superious was not irritated by The Bloodhound’s loud booming voice, the volume was a welcomed thing, even if his helmet dampened it down a few decibels automatically. They were to get something today, something like rings? He would have to put the thing over his glove and when alone place it properly. The Bloodhound looked worse for wear, yet he is here and ready to rain hell upon those who face them.

They were not alone, Ronar was here too and was helping Bloodhound to his feet. If he had an aptitude for healing he would have done a patch-up right then, alas he wasn't a healer so he wasn't much help.

 

[Hiran Avola]

HIGH EXECUTIONER
GALIDRAANI IMPERIAL STATE
THE EMPIRE
Tags: Tyrell Lockhart DECEASED Aron Gowrie Open to interaction

​

Unit 44, Taskforce Green Devil
Panathan jungle,
Entry point alpha,
0815 hours
877ABYY

If the jungle were hellish, then the tight confines of the command tent proved even more brutal, a microcosm of humidity and sweat that not even the beat-up fan in the corner could stem away. A large fold-up table dominated the small space of the tent, with a holographic projector in the corner with a map covering the table that showed unit movement and intel. Avola stood over the map, studiously examining the after report of scout movements north of the operating base, if they were correct in their assessments, the Mawites hadn't significantly built up forces, at least not in anticipation of Avola and Lockharts forces.

"Mawites seem to be anticipating Gowries units rather than our own, making it an easy affair to push north if so."

"If it were a trap, better to move around a potential Mawite ambush on the north road, push through the northwest with the light infantry at our disposal and hit them from the side, the Mawites, after all, are chaotic in their approach, an attack from an unexpected angle will leave them disorganised." The Mawites were chaotic, that was certain, but a chaotic foe was as equally dangerous as an organised one, at least with a methodical opponent, you knew what to expect.

Another of the commanders pointed with a gloved hand to the northwest point, where a large question mark lay drawn.

"What if they want us to move there sir."

"You're correct in that assessment but they have grown accustomed to Galidraani tank formations, they'll expect us to take the northern road, but they won't expect an infantry formation bypassing it and hitting them from the side."

It was an infinitely better option, but he wanted Lockharts opinion before such a move would be taken, once a plan was in motion, then they could contact Gowries force and move ahead.

 

[Isar]

KNIGHTS OF TEL ALAM

Location: Above Panatha
Allies: Artas Tel Alam | Iren Tel Alam
Opponents: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | Others are welcome to join!

"Yes, I remember. I also remember Moksh ripping out a Mon Calamari's organs and then staring at it. I doubt our Master would have approved, but perhaps if he had been more of a monster he would have survived instead of being torn apart." Dal mused as he unbuckled his crash webbing and stood up.

He wore simple black armorweave and a belt that had stims, ascension cable wire, several vials of glitterstim and bota, a rebreather and collapsible biohazard suit... among other things. What more could one want? Unclipping his lightsaber from the belt, he stared at the elegantly curved silver hilt with floral etchings.

"Personally, I would rather chew glass than help with this ritual. But maybe someone will come to stop it and Artas will have his day... We are the distraction after all. Or maybe no one will come and we will have to seek out a fight. You realize if we don't kill anyone the Maw won't pay us, right? That was the best deal I could get at the time."

Ten credits a corpse. Shitty deal.

Dal strode down the ramp and out into the Iron Mountains. After staring for a moment at the stark mountain tops, shrieking wind, and biting cold he reached down and pulled out a vial of glitterstim. He dumped the contents in his mouth, not even bothering to snort them. His mouth became instantly numb and he felt the familiar sharpening of his sensations as colors grew brighter and thoughts clearer.

"Let's get on with this then... wouldn't want to be late to the ritual."

 

[DECEASED Aron Gowrie]

2nd post

LAST HOUR
AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY
OBJECTIVE 1

WILDCAT_ONE
TRIBAL-CHIEFTAIN OF AN-TUATHA
MAJOR-GENERAL OF WILDCAT DIVISION

BELIGERENTS
(EE/EMPIRE/AC Vs. BOTM/DH/SH)

Ingrid L'lerim Victor Vel Aath Myri Dara
Kriegan Tavlar Bex Tarring Hiran Avola Saul Vandron Tyrell Lockhart Nukth Kelga'an
Heinrich Faust Elysium Dusk

Kyrel Ren Tegan Starfall
Keilara Kala'myr Erion Justeene Ronar
Khamul Kryze

TRIBULATIONS OF THE WILDCATS: A DISTANT FORTRESS - PART 2

Fort Cedar, Spirewatch Forest,
Canthar Province, Panatha (Early-Spring 877 ABY)

'I am grateful to the Lord-Regent for sending you and your men.'​

With appreciative nods shared, Gowrie took his opportunity to pivot and walk towards the table where the other Free-State officers were seated whilst L'lerim turned to address the Ashlan delegation, sitting next to Tarring and sparking up a cigarra before the briefing properly commenced. Relieved to have the presence of Bramber Division holding the main battle-line with the Wildcats, Lord Aron turned to his younger colleague and muttered,'I hear there are other Free-State elements in play already, but its us who are expected to engage the opposition's static-lines out here.... Firepower advantage from the offset, but the surroundings, the low-visibility issues, and even the Maw's cunning can negate it.', and without turning his gaze away from the proceedings, slid his still-opened cigarra pack across to Lord Bex and set the nearest ashtray between them.

'You probably also know that Panatha is the homeworld of the Zambrano family, and the locals respect them as gods. The trouble started when I banished and exiled Darth Carnifex and Darth Prazutis from the planet after they tried to kill both Lord Grayson and me. Since then, the entire system has rebelled against the authority of the Eternal Empire. All of this is manageable and not part of the problem, we handle it easily. The bigger issues that made the three factions decide to create a common base was that the Sith had returned. We don't know that these are people of the Zambrano family, people of the Maw, although we know that the new leader of the Maw is also a Zambrano. Or maybe other groups. The point is that they are here and have quite a lot of support and resources.'

Casting a sneering sideward glance towards his knighted adjutant, the Tuath quietly growled,'Fething told you so.... The gut never lies, Alun. Never.', at his Woad-born friend, turning his gaze back to the Eternal Empress as she brought up the holographic map-projections in preparation for the next part of the briefing. Barran had said to expect increased Mawite presence farther afield, but to find them on Panatha as an exact certainty was bringing out the wild, cat-like fire in the Kellas' eyes, especially as he saw the points of interest light up in holographic definition, finding many and more puzzle-pieces clicking into place, yet still hungering to uncover more detail somehow. Lord Aron was finally invested, magnetised to the fight itself, just as he was on Muunilinst, on Nirauan, and on Korriban most of all, but there was still a nagging sense of caution clawing at the back of the Tuath's mind, reminding him of the Maw's never-waning ability to adapt to Galidraan's tank-warfare doctrine in particular.

'Just a month ago, we eliminated a Sith cult and sect in the capital, parts of it were also found in the mountains. After the sect disappeared, the darkness also disappeared, but after that it returned with renewed strength, stronger and now surrounds the entire planet. Its centre is somewhere in this area, in the mountains, our base, and the ruins of the capital. The source cannot be found by the Force, it is everywhere. For obvious reasons, the Eternal Empire does not want Sith in its territory…'

In clear approval of the logic that dictated rooting out cultism at the earliest opportunity, all those sitting at the Free-State's table nodded in appreciation and recognition from their own quick efforts to snuff out the ringleaders of the Reliquary throughout the Galidraan cluster. None at their table could ignore Lord Bex's tireless efforts in this regard, nor could they forget Bramber's contribution to the de-Fortanization of Leith County, prompting Lord Aron to mutter,'I know, lad.... Made you a bigger hit with the Woads than I ever could be. Bloody well should be proud o' yourself.', cutting himself short with a smirking sidelong glance of envy in clear, endearing jest. Then after smoking another few drags of his cigarra quickly, the Tuath rose from his seat with clear intent to speak, though pausing to look across the room after doing so, weighing his wording in the hopes he wouldn't step on any toes.

'I think I might want a wee FOB set up at those mountains somewhere, though I know some would see this as my lot leaning into stereotypes.... We have contingents on the ground already, and we have the resources to spare; and being perfectly honest, I quite like the artillery potential there, even if we incur risks taking it.'

Fully intending to get to it right away, a soft tap from boot to boot would notify Lord Bex that Lord Aron was ready to leave and set to work on preparations for the battle they all expected, as much like Empress Ingrid, the Tuath was also something of an earnest workaholic. Eager to get their efforts underway, the nervous regard to the Maw wasn't helping much, but the Kellas' exterior would remain as receptive as ever as he took one last drag from his cigarra and stubbed it out in anticipation of his departure, confident enough in the specifics of his plan that he was able to keep it conveniently concise for the sake of the other attendees in the conference hall. Easy enough for a Major-General to convey gist of his plan, though there was always more to a Galidraani strategy between the lines, as it wasn't in the layout or in their soldiering stock, the results were always carved out in the wonders they made from the simplicity of base-level convention.

'Rest assured, I still intend to define a conventional line of attack out there, and even with the consideration of the great efforts and manpower needed to endeavour it, I still believe it possible to spare a battalion or two for the mountaineering endeavours.... Requesting permission to prepare for both matters, your Majesty.'

 

[Tegan Starfall]

"Only The Strong are able to Stand Alone."
​

Post: 1
Objective: Wicked Ones
Location: Somewhere Between Canthar and The Iron mountains
Equipment: Mind Crown | White MidNight Duster with Hood | White Beskar Armor | White Sith Death Mask | Grav Boots | Eltro Life Gloves | x4 red lightsabers | Defender | Forearm Lanvorak | Wrist Laser | x2 FWG-5 Flechette Smart Pistol | Boomer | X4 Daggers | Pack of Death sticks | Lots Explosives | Holopad
Allies: Maw | Thomas Barran | Darth Maledictio | Isar
Enemies: Sith | EE | AC | Empire | Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | DECEASED Aron Gowrie | Rolin Doan
Engaging: Lucretia Lister | Count Tarsus | Anyone else who wants in

Spoiler: Tegan's Forces

x24 CR90 (Gutted to to hold 600 passengers)
x24 Gravity Bombs (one on each CR90)
x400 Droids as Crew and staff on the CR90's

Tegan had looked out on a sea of stars for thousands of years and had seen the Galaxy come to it's knees many times over. Tegan had even been at the forefront of many of these revolutions that wanted to rebuild the Galaxy in their image. The Maw was no different a revolution out to end the reality as we knew it and bring about a new age of unimaginable glory and wonder. At least that was how it seemed in the beginning, Tegan herself had been on the front lines since the near beginning of this fight when the Maw first came to Rhand. The Maw steam rolled through the Galaxy a near unstoppable force guided beliefs that war would lead to death and then to rebirth in the worlds to come that Avatars would shape. It was oddly close to what Tegan herself wanted to do break the universe bring it to it's knees and see it rebuilt in her image. Her being the God of Destruction and Creation that all life needed give praise and thanks too.

Yet having stood on nearly every battlefield the Maw drew lines on, Tegan started to see the divide. As they marched across the Galaxy and where about to start their push into Core. Across the Galaxy they decreed the Sith were coming to destroy their worlds. It angered and ate at Tegan she who had been exiled from the sith Empire of old by Soeht then known as Darth Apparatus. She swore she would never serve the sith again until the last breath she gasped. Now the Maw an idea she loved the brotherhood of rag tag Marauders, pirates, scum, and darksiders. The Maw that had stomped out the last remnants of the old regime of Sith no matter how much they screamed and tried to claw from the shadows of obscurity that they still lived. Now Galaxy was looking at them like a new sith empire and Tegan despised it.

Even seeing this she fought on alongside the brotherhood, one might say Tegan had some level of respect for Darth Solipsis if Tegan could have respect for anything. Trust was not a good word but, on some level, she did not see Darth Solipsis 's sith as the same as pervious orders. Yet through the Dark whispers had come to Tegan visions of possible futures. Days before they were to push into the core Tegan and her Rhandite followers vanished turning away from the Maw. The visions had told Tegan of what was to come from Darth Solipsis to the Maws great loses in the Core. Then the infiltration of Shadows of old the old regime tainting the Maw that claw and screaming from abyss finally being seen and heard.

Those visions had finally brought her here to Panatha the homeworld of the Royal Blood line of the Old Sith Empire. The old Sith Empire that secretly tried to rebuild in the shadows calling themselves the Sith Order trying blur the lines between the sith in the Brotherhood and the sith of the old trying to conflate the two as the same or similar. It further diluted what the Brotherhood of the Maw was to the Galaxy at large in Tegan's eyes.

Twenty-four CR90 Corvettes with EE Markings on them, marking them as relief ships from a medical organization came to land on a field between the main city of Canthar and the Iron Mountains. As they landed the cargo doors began to open and several droids started unloading and setting up medical tents in the massive area. Unknown to most a Grav bomb warhead had been rigged into each of the CR90's. Setting up a medical relief camp for those citizens who still remained on the world and enough room to secure several thousand citizens on board the ships if evacuation was needed.

A beacon to other relief services sent out to come join them as the area they had picked would good distance between the city and Iron mountains and would be able to handle a good portion of the Planets population. Tegan's plan was simple on paper eradicate as many of Panatha's populace as possible and the best way to do that was to control the evacuation. Tegan was bound and determined to erase ever last remnant of the sith of old Regime and she would start by eradicating the race that spawn the last royal bloodline. Like the lesson she had been tried to Teach the Eternal Empire since Byss she was now going to have to teach the Maw. Absolutely no half measures if you want to kill anything from the force to the old way of the sith then you must be willing to destroy every last ounce of it existence. If you were going to attack a world to prove a point, then make that message clear no one lives.

In Tegan's eyes from what her visions told her in order for the Maw to live and start succeeding again they need to purge every last stain that the old Sith left behind. They would need to show the Galaxy once again they were more than the sith, that it was them who proved to be the strong and dominate. If that meant Tegan would have to stand alone then so be it, it wouldn't be the first time she stood alone to prove a point.

Tegan watched from the cockpit of one of the CR90's as the droids set up the relief camp. Soon she knew others would come to join her unknowingly stepping into her trap. Off into the Mountains a ritual was beginning and Tegan even at this distance could feel it. Part of her had to wonder what that was about, perhaps she would go off and investigate while the droids continued to do their work.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

​

Location: Outposts, Canthar.
Enemies: Elysium Dusk
Allies: Maw



Kyrel kept marching with the small force of Crimson Hand stormtroopers. With each step there was the heavy clanking of rusted durasteel against the ground. Kyrel’s own grip upon the Hunger tightened and he reached out to feel his prey. He was close, closer than he might have thought. Quickly he turned his head back to see the same soldier complaint about rotten corpses fall dead to the ground. The loud thud of horned Stormtrooper helms all sounded, and quickly enough there was a silence that surrounded him. Turning around he reached out with the crimson draining energy of the hunger. Eating away at the flesh that barely lived within. Soon his men were reduced to husks, and while it kept some of the Hunger sated it was only a distraction, an appetizer for the main course bursting with the Force.

He looked out and what he felt was that in this encounter he might be the one hunted. His ugly mug formed into a disgusting smirk. He was excited at the thought of someone coming for him, someone to meet the match of his weapon. With his escort of soldiers dead there was nothing but the silence. His hearing could detect the sounds of battle around him. He largely ignored the battle instead his killer instincts were ignited. For the first time in a long time he might gain satisfaction as someone was targeting him.

Instead of chasing them he would play along. He firmly planted the fork tipped spear into the ground. The dark side lance sending crimson sparks that caused the Sith runes to glow showing its anger. It demanded more already, so much so to send a jolt of pain up his spine. If this Hunter wanted him that badly he would stand here among the husks of corpses to face them. Too long has he hunted for the sport, for his bloodlust this time he wanted to see if he could be hunted. If this person was powerful enough he might not kill them slowly. Perhaps a reward would be a good death to honor his way of Shadow.

 

[Vesta]

Sea Lion​

Location	Fatalis | Deep Space
Enemies	The Eternal Empire | Ashlan Crusade - Isla Draellix-Kobitana | The Empire
Allies	Brotherhood of the Maw - Marlon Sularen Tu'teggacha
Equipment	Lightsaber
Lead Ship	Fatalis
Destroyers	The Mandible - Crucifix II (Nadja Keto)
Cruisers	x4 Ascendant Mark-II

A dark spectre drifted through the expanse of space, trailed by a small cadre of ships, towards the world of Panatha. It was the carcass of a destroyer that had once struck fear into the hearts of men and women alike at the mere sight of it, existing then as an omen for the arrival of a Maw invading force, that had been laid low across the ruined plains of Tython with its windows shattered and viewports broken. Where its hull had been broken into sections of three, however, it held fast - stitched together by a master of the dark side like a revenant called back from the dead for one last battle - but its halls were empty, forges quiet, and only a single soul could be found onboard. One single being sat atop a throne carved out of the wreckage the internals of the Fatalis' bridge had been reduced to, the very woman that had forced the dead ship back into service. Her ruined appearance, like shadow and smoke made flesh, mirrored the horrific existence of the massive destroyer that she commanded, as if the Fatalis had become another extension of her will - as the Tetan that she had placed on one of the ships that tailed hers was now.

"Set them in our jaws." She said aloud, her words lost in the silence of space that occupied the bridge of the ship she sat in. Her words echoed in the mind of Nadja Keto aboard the Mandible, her own ship diverting from the course the rest of the Maw had been set upon - the cadre of ships heading towards the rendezvous over Lao-Mon for a jump towards the hypergate at Bakura to assault Panatha from. Tens of thousands of kilometers away, aboard the bridge of the Mandible, the ruinous Fatalis seemed so much closer than it had any right to - visible to the naked eye like a menacing asteroid lumbering across the void of space - and with the voice echoing through her head it felt far less removed than even that. "We are moving ahead according to plan; emergence over Bakura and initiation of first assault wave on Panatha." Nadja announced to the crew aboard the bridge of her ship, wincing visibly at the discomfort that having a Sith lord living in the recesses of her mind left her with. It was the price for Teta, the reason she was still alive - as long as she could provide the Dark Voice with a purpose she was permitted to exist, particularly given their secret history between the collapse of the Sith Empire and the rise of the Maw.

She knew the Sith wasn't the sort to be sentimental, she'd have to execute the plan for Panatha perfectly or she'd suffer the fate her Zeltron predecessor had.

"Careful of flying too close to the stars, Nadja, your desire to hold onto life will be your undoing if you proceed with too much haste."

The Shi'ido grinned at her own words of caution, closing her eyes as she fell into the force - and into the cosmos. The reason the Fatalis had been resurrected and made a thrall of the Dark Lord was not merely for its symbolic terror, nor was it for the firepower it offered her after being stitched back together like a chimeric monster out of Korriban myth, but rather because of the path engines that allowed the ship to traverse dangerous paths that could not be utilized by conventional hyperdrives. She likened the slumber she fell into to the Jedi art of instinctive astrogation, to feel out the hidden path that she would take to Panatha separate from the initial assault force the Keto led - and from entirely the opposite direction. Darkness enveloped her mind's eye, darkness and the colorful smears of stars and the many hazards that the Fatalis would have to avoid as she traveled towards her destination.

A planet that would soon be caught in her Maw.

-

"Prepare for the jump to Bakura, we'll be making a slingshot around the planet to assault the Panatha from the galactic south." Nadja ordered while she shifted in her seat, her seat turning to position her towards one of the senior communication officers on the ship's bridge. "Send a hyperwave signal to second wave personnel, I want them on high alert to cover us when we get in over our heads. We're likely going to see both imperial forces converge on us the moment they realize what we're up to, assuming whatever it is the Wrath is planning on the planet doesn't tip them off first and draw their focus ground-side instead." She said. This was much more than a simple resource raid, though that was certainly what the Maw proper intended to do while the fighting went on, and she had a feeling there was more to this than what her captor was letting on. "Hyperspace jump in seven." Chimed in the voice of a navigation coordinator, forcing the magseals on their respective seats to activate - a method to reduce the sensation of recoil that came with the lurch any jump to hyperspace invited.

-

"Home, was it?" The Sith asked herself, envisioning the ship she sat in as herself lumbering through the forgotten path in space towards Panatha. It was a longer route for certain, she had no intention of arriving before the Tetan-helmed task force, in order to give her more time to contemplate her goals for the home planet of her father and his nephew. She had never set foot on the planet of Panatha, her actual home lay far from the Pacanth Reach, nor did she care for the family that hailed from there, in much the same way she didn't much care for the home of her species, the Shi'ido, but it didn't change the fact that an opportunity to decapitate the imperial coalition in one place had presented itself to her there. Kyrel Ren had his own machinations, his own goals, and though it would have been easy to take credit for anything he and the rest of the Mawites worked towards in the Pacanth Reach she did not - in truth she invited them to indulge themselves in the system her father's side of the family had came from, to take whatever it was they desired and to destroy whatever they did not, so she could draw Ingrid L'lerim and the rest of the Eternals out into the open along with the rumored support they'd been working towards with the rest of the galaxy's imperial hegemonic powers - the Ashlan Crusade and the Empire.

Darth Solipsis had managed to take Rurik Fel down with him on Tython but the death of their leader had hardly seen the end of that oppressive power, something she doubted she would accomplish in a place as degenerate as Panatha, but any that died here would be victory enough for her; she would be more than satisfied with the death of the purported Eternal Empire and the consequential severing of another head from the hydra that had thwarted them on Tython. Unlike Teta before it, Panatha was critical to the future of the Maw in a way that went far beyond petty territorial squabbles for land and resources - the galaxy had shown to Mori exactly who it was that could prevent her dream of a galaxy free from the oppressive will of the force and its enforcers and this was likely one of the only chances the Maw would have to cut straight into the heart of the Eternal Empire and rid her of one of the six heads that had bit into the Brotherhood's side during their first attempt to burn away the stars.

-

Another jolt, this time in the opposite direction of the one that had shook them when they'd jumped to hyperspace, welcomed them as the first wave of ships emerged over Bakura. "Full power to thrusters on port-side, I want us orientated as best as possible with a direct route for Panatha." Nadja said the moment the steel shutters on the bridge's viewport began to lift, revealing the silhouette of the planet of Bakura below. "Send a message to Marlon Sularen that we're preparing for assault, I suspect the Final Dawn will appreciate being made a part of an attack on what he likely views as a rival Imperial power." She said as she stood up to stretch her legs, hardly taller than she had been sitting. "Put word to the second wave personnel command that they are to move towards the hypergate in one hour - I want them arriving here once we've made contact on Panatha, and not to move to engage until I've given the order to begin the second wave." The Tetan ordered, taking several steps down the stairwell that led up to her command seat in order to give herself a more intimate look out of the central viewport. The Mandible, and the rest of the ships that had followed for that matter, were meanwhile adjusting their positioning after their arrival per the commands of the Tetan aristocrat while the Fatalis drifted towards Panatha from the other side of the galaxy like a silent, if hulking, assassin.

"Aligned with most direct route to Panatha."

She hesitated, knowing this could very well be her last showing if the reputation Darth Mori had for discarding her pawns was anything to go by, but shook her head and returned to her seat with a suppressed sigh of resignation. Her task force, if one could even call it that, was the singular destroyer she was sitting aboard and the few cruisers she had been afforded - they had been meant to travel light, to give present the enemy with the illusion of a raid by an inferior power that was crippled by defeat on Empress Teta, but she had little doubt it was to reduce her chances of survival to near zero.

"Engage planned microjump to Panathan high orbit."

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
Mongrel's Shadow and his widow; Matriarch of the Scar Hounds Tribe; Guardian of Mongrel's armour and sword​

Objective: Help the Maw forces with intelligence information | Continue to rebuild the mental defences and the mind palace.
Location: Surface, Panatha
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Writing With: Tu'teggacha (and as Kallan) | Thomas Barran | Closed
Allies: Maw | Ronar | Erion Justeene | Open
Enemies: EE/AC/Empire | Open

[ Come back… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

~ Mercy ~
<< If we're lucky, they'll only count on rebellious epicanthix. Based on my information, the locals rebelled against the Eternal Empire when the Eternal Empress banished Carnifex and Prazutis. Locals revere the Zambrano family as gods. If we're lucky, they might actually think they're only looking for local fighters or Zambrano loyalist Sith. Meanwhile, ours can trap them and get slave-soldier supplies from their units. >> I told him.

These were Thomas' father's men, and he killed Asher. I didn't care if we were members of the same nation. I wanted them to suffer and not just me.

<< The tiny scout droids track the enemy. However, I warn you that my information may not be completely accurate. The Eternal Empire also uses a lot of HPI products like I do. Thus, the artificial intelligence may refuse to retrieve the information to protect them. Especially the Empress' personal assets. >>

On Odessen, it nearly cost Asher's life because I failed to get accurate information. There I learned his real name, Kallan, and I called him that for a long time, and there I told him my true name was Keilara. They both woke up in that place and after that our relationship became more serious and much deeper.

I don't know if Thomas ever found it strange that I called him Asher and not Mongrel. Especially since he only chose this name on the last day. But not for me. For me, he was Asher for sixty years, not just for a few hours. In that life, the children were closer to Asher than to me. I always thought he was the better parent of the two of us. I think it's because of Kallan's memories; because he grew up in a normal family. I… For me, Asher was the first person I could call my family, I only knew torture and pain from my own family. Until I met him and he showed me that I could be important to someone too.

~ They deserve it, yes. They will get it. I… I'm a different matter. You also know that this world, this life, has held nothing for me except revenge. Not without him. The twins will get great parents and be safe… ~

I couldn't tell him about Kallan and Keilara, he didn't know about them.

~ But you also know that my place is on his side. It's always been there. ~ and every day I spent without him was a painful suffering, worse than any torture.

I was further away, in a protected place, in a "commander's" tent, in one of the hidden caves, with only three other people with me, my own people, whom I trusted completely. I was looking at the monitors when one of the tiny drones' groups signalled. Imperials, from Barran's Empire. However I sent the next message to him, to Ronar and to Erion Justeene .

<< Sir, Ronar, Justeene, and not far from you I see a group of Imperial Stormtroopers and soldiers, watch out for them. >> I told them.

~ Keilara ~
I got stronger and stronger over the months, but I had to be myself again from nothing. At Tython, I almost completely ceased to exist again. All of our personalities had to merge in order to survive the damage that Asher's decision had caused. Ziare hasn't reappeared since then, I don't know if he's out there somewhere and just being quiet, or if he's happy that he doesn't have to suffer anymore. Freedom was the next, she usually doesn't do anything, waits, if necessary, gives some logical answers or just asks, but otherwise doesn't bother anyone.

Then, if Kallan and Mercy hadn't kissed each other, I might not be here right now. I don't know if I would have woken up without wanting to be here with him. With my husband. But here I was, trying to do everything I could to be as strong as I was before Tython. I would have liked to take care of him properly, again. As he has done with me and Mercy in recent months.

~ I don't know either, in such situations I feel that it is a huge disadvantage that we are both experienced in technical fields but not with people. ~ I smiled sadly.

I think this was the first point that Mercy and Asher realised that they both originally worked in the technical field. Kallan was a speeder mechanic and we were mechanical engineers. I didn't know if there was a way out of where Mercy was now. I couldn't and didn't want to think about how I would have felt if Kallan had died. We didn't even share a bond like Asher and Mercy did.

I looked at my husband sadly after his words. As if they were our own children. He and I were the original personalities, not Asher and Mercy, even though they became the stronger ones.

~ I haven't mentioned it before, but I have some memories of the other reality where they lived for sixty years. After all, I was completely one with Mercy then. Some pictures, mostly just feelings. I am particularly worried because I remember her suffering from postpartum depression there. If this happens again to its current state, I'm afraid there really will be no turning back. And yes, the children will be safe, we will take care of them. ~ I said worriedly.

I looked down at the floor and my hands were a little confused as I was twisting my fingers. I didn't know how to bring this up.

~ However, somewhere I understand why she is so deep in the dark, why she feels this way. I remember how they felt then, in the last moments and in that life. When they became one, when they shared all their memories, feelings, everything. There is also such a bond in the Force, it is very rare, and if one party dies, the other has only a small chance of surviving. It is as if she too has been torn apart, as if the other half of her heart, her soul, which is no longer there, has been ripped out. It was Asher. After the greatest harmony and happiness, only emptiness remained. ~ there was pain in my voice and I felt two tears running down my face.

I looked up, deep into his eyes as I felt myself blush.

~ But it was still the most amazing feeling for her, and I think for them while it lasted… I… ~ I was silent for a moment, confused, and my face turned even redder. ~ I want to experience this with you. I wish we could share on this special bond too. ~