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

[Isla Draellix-Kobitana]

Location: Pancath Reach
Objective: Patrol against probing mawite attacks
Tags: Darth Mori and any friendlies out there

Spoiler: Fleet Assets

1 x Letton Class heavy cruisers
Void Watcher

5 x Dominion Class Escort Frigate
(3 at low readiness)
2 x Principality Class corvette

1 x Warden Class anti-starfighter frigate

Even split complements of
Pegasus Interceptor Starfighters
Phoenix Multirole Starfighter

Infantry available
Ashlan Marines
Sisters of Ashla

Alerts blared all across the bridge of the Void Watcher before the Commodore could reach his shuttle. The long range scout fighters of the Ashlan Crusade, had reported a massive arrival of Mawite ships, at a nearby system, they had arrived from an unknown vector and were now speeding through the system. So far behind the front line this was extremely alarming and the Commodore ran back into his bridge.

"Report now! What are we looking at? Raiders or full mobilisation?"

His tactical officer looked wide eyed. "Sir, it appears the Fatalis is amongst the enemy fleet."

"By Ashla! That thing just won't die will it!" he cursed, reports had come in that the Fatalis had been destroyed at Tython, but then it had also been nearly destroyed at Korriban, the monstrous symbol of Mawite evil seemed to have life in it again. Lyon looked at where the sitting had happened, near Bakura, that gave it just a little distance to the Crusade operations on Panatha, damned, there was little they could do. "Make the jump to Panatha, we cannot catch them at Bakura now, we have to assume they are heading to that Sith rock." His small fleet was no match for the power arrayed but he was duty bound to attend the fight. "Send word to high command, we may need reinforcements." He made a dry laugh at the futility if taking a cruiser and a half dozen frigates into battle without heavier ships. There were already assets in the planet, he hoped they would be enough to slow down their foe.

The Ashlan Patrol fleet entered hyperspace and made the jump estimates showed they would arrive in system only shortly before the much larger mawite fleet. His bridge crew were quiet, a tense professional atmosphere of a crew that may not survive the coming battle had descended. "Commodore, there is word that a large Final Dawn fleet has also been spotted exiting the Bakuran hypergate" came in a Report from communications.

Lyon just shook his head in acceptance, the Fatalis from one angle and what was likely to be a veritable horde of heavy battlecruisers from another? "Thank you" was his only verbal response as he considered his options.

He didn't have long to think as very quickly the world of Panatha was in his viewfinder and his ships entered orbit. There was a trio of addtional Ashlan frigates here, but their mission was to help build the base and they were cutrently stood down from combat. "Inform those Dominions they are instructed to form up with my fleet and ready for battle." He ordered to the tactical officer who quickly relayed the message. Now it was just a case of waiting to see if his theory was correct.

 

[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 | Aculia Voland | Open
Allies: EE/AC/Empire | Open
Enemies: Maw | Open

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

Ingrid looked at Gowrie as the man spoke. She nodded at the request; if the Empire had the resources to do this, in this place, while they seemed to be fighting at least a two-front war, with the GA on the one hand, and the Maw on the other… She didn't want to refuse the help nor the suggestion. Asking the Ashlan's and the Empire's help and intervention wasn't easy either.

"Of course, although there is not much to find in the northern mountains. Flora and fauna are only now beginning to return. The Enclave literally blew up the neighbourhood when the capital city was also destroyed." she explained.

She was silent for a few moments after Gowrie asked her for permission. This was so unusual; at least in the sense that the Empire has only set conditions in recent years, that what they want will happen, or the communication between the two Empires will be interrupted. They never asked permission. Times have changed, as have rulers and leaders.

"Permission granted, general!" she told him.

In fact, it didn't matter to Ingrid whether the Zambrano family, or the Maw, or any other Sith were here. The bottom line was that they were Sith and that was not acceptable. Especially since someone would come to this planet for two reasons; they support the Zambrano family, or they were their enemy and would like to destroy it. It was difficult to find another option in this matter. She also nodded gratefully at Scipio's offer. Fortunately, the Eternal Empire also had a team that could join.

"And the Eternal Empire can offer the Hellhounds for this task!" she told them.

She was about to say something when the call came. The men in the room didn't sense anything because it happened through the biochip and the woman received the signal from MANIAC in her mind. Of course, she took the call; Ingrid could easily pay attention to both directions. A few moments later she was informed that Admiral Voland had arrived. Yes, the newest employee of the Contractors' Guild who will work as a mercenary for the Eternal Empire. She knew the woman's reputation, earned more merit than Tython and was one of the admirals of the Elysium Imperium.

<< ~ Admiral, welcome, this is L'lerim, would you mind joining us at the base on the planet's surface? We are currently holding a meeting about the situation in the system. ~ >> she sent the message through the comm channel to the admiral in her mind through the biochip.

"Gentlemen, it looks like an admiral from the Elysium Imperium will be joining the meeting, she'll be working for the Eternal Empire through the Contractors' Guild." she told them. " With this, we can also increase our superiority in space and the chance of Sith ships getting in unnoticed will be smaller."


//OOC: she doesn't yet know about the upcoming Maw fleet/attack.//

 

[Kyrel Ren]

​

Location: Canthar, Outposts
Allies: Maw
Enemies: Elysium Dusk
Equipment: The Hunger, Kyrel's Armor, Necrochasis, Lightsaber


Kyrel had quickly hoped that the angry draining blast of the Hunger would bring a quick end to his foe. Just like the Stormtroopers she killed he had hoped to reduce her to little more than a lifeless husk. Much to his dismay he could see her barely absorb the energy. He watched curiously as she struggled to hold back the terrifying force before her weapon, in a similar state to Kyrel’s own spear had barely taken the full brunt of the crimson blast. She mentioned of him going some place worse than Hell, but little did she know she was dealing with a different breed of monster.

He watched with his undead visage as she ran through one of the ruined buildings. The slow moving behemoth tried to carefully study her moves. His stance remained still, as she finally revealed herself by jumping from the side of the building straight towards him. He let out an inhuman screech as he felt one of her blades sink into his shoulder. The act itself caused the black goo in his veins to spray violently. Shifting his form he angled the spear to counteract her blade from hitting into his chest.

“Well, you know what they say… Hell comes to you.” He said with a murderous growl. Shifting his large form he attempted to use the same amount of force to send his hand grasping for her neck. In one brutal swift motion, he attempted to to grasp her and plainfully shove her down through the duracrete floor they stood upon. Using his own strength against hers, he would attempt to beat her down into submission through sheer might alone. Completely enraged, Kyrel let his rage duel him, as he felt the stings of pain emanating from where one of her blades had punctured right through his shoulder.

 

[Darth Maledictio]

Curse | Darth Maledictio
Shadow Emperor of the Shadow Empire, The Shadow Dragon, One of leaders of the Spear, Nite inner circle member, First Archon of the Primyn Group​

Objective: Perform the ritual
Location: Ritual Chamber, Iron Mountains
Equipment: Lightsaber | Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Open
Allies: Maw | Open
Enemies: EE/AC/Empire | Open

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

Curse had never felt anything like this before. It was as if he was able to touch the planet itself, or the soul of the planet, during the ritual. The machine was already up and running, but there was no visible sign of what it was doing. But Cruse felt that what he was doing was focusing the Force, pulling it in one direction. It wasn't very noticeable, so it wasn't felt further away, but the "waves" in the Force were already present and visible in the Force here in the place where the ritual took place.

The man found this extremely interesting and fascinating. Last but not least, it seemed that Curse was very lucky today. Earlier, he sensed a presence heading in his direction, but it stopped and changed direction. He could feel the presence and power of the group that had emerged. This was the same group that also caught the attention of the Light of Ashla. The Sith Lord must have been very grateful to them for that. He didn't have to share his attention and he didn't have to worry about anyone interrupting the ritual.

As he chanted the words, he felt the fabric of reality grow thinner. Curse was a master of different dimensions, or pocket dimensions; he's made quite a few himself over the years. So he immediately felt that the effect was going in the direction of the Netherworld. It didn't really bother him that if cracks appeared, it would only cause more trouble, even more problems. But not for him or the Maw. And this binds the Eternal Empress and her daughter's attention even more. And this was perfect for him. Because he wanted to avoid them.

But it took him a little more time for the ritual to come to an end. Now they changed a bit and began to direct the swirling energies, the Force, directly into the machine. And the machine started to react to this. As if he wanted to devour the Force hungrily, more and more. The darkness began to thicken in this place and the machine also began to have an increasingly powerful effect and release it from itself. Curse smiled, everything was going as well as possible…

 

[Aschwin Vethres]

​

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

Location: World of Bakura
Tags: Rebirth Maestus
Equipment:
Addlehorn Armor
Aschwin Curved Lightsaber
Post Number: Three

Aschwin spotted incoming mawite raiders approaching from the north and assumed that the device was somewhere nearby that area. The Main Settlement on Bakura 'Salis D'aar' was not far away from their current location on the ridge. Battlegroup 46 was already engaged in a firefight with the mawite forces and holding their own for a short while as Imperial Artillery in the form of mortars were loaded and fired down upon the mawite raiders approaching the trench line.

"Attention all units of Battlegroup 49 make way towards the Settlement of Salis D'aar with no delay. Lieutenant Bersh is in command while I assist Battlegroup 46 in facing the main brotherhood line. Operational Command to the defense of the settlement will be forwarded to Colonel Vulk O'ren at Base Command. Keep your transmission to a minimum." Aschwin said towards the gathering of his men; Lieutenant Bersh was a smart and rising man through the ranks. He was confident that the Lieutenant would be able to defend the settlement without issue while he advanced down into the trenches to hold off the raiders from the northern front.

As his battlegroup 49 made the march towards the settlement underneath the command of Lieutenant Hector Beresh. Aschwin channeled the force into his body to perform a force jump which caused him to land a few feet from the Operational HQ of Battlegroup 46. Making his way inside the station his gaze fell upon Captain Deko Duran who was put in charge of these theatre. "Update Captain." Aschwin asked putting his hands behind his back to await an answer. "We have held the line against the barbarians but our eastern upper trench as been compromised with enemy tunneling systems." Captain Duran replied overlooking the holographic table in front of himself and pointing towards the tunnel itself. "Have we located the forward mawite command post?." He further asked in a inquiry tone wanting to know if Operational HQ had found anything.

"Unfortunately not sir, they must have it beyond our scanner range." Captain Duran replied, "Captain, we have detected several large signature coming from hyperspace it appears to be an enemy fleet" The Communications Officer interjected. "Get a communication line towards Imperial High Command and request reinforcements." The Captain further added. The Officer nodded and sent a high priority signal to any Imperial Command within range of Bakura requesting dire reinforcements against the mawite forces emerging.

"It would appear that the Brotherhood has finally announced themselves fully. Bring up a communication line with Colonel Vulk O'ren at Base Command." Aschwin commanded and walked over to the terminal within the Operational HQ. "Yes, Knight Vethres. We read you loud and clear at base command." Colonel O'ren stated after being alerted by an officer of Battlegroup 78 to the knights incoming transmissions. "Colonel we have engaged the Brotherhood with Battlegroup 46 and are currently holding the line. However a large enemy fleet was detected emerging from hyperspace and a formal request for reinforcements have been submitted." Aschwin explained in a formal tone as the sound of blaster fire and the slow cry of agony was heard behind him. "Hmm a difficult situation for us to remain here at this time. I shall move our Base Command towards the Settlement of Salis Da'aar to reinforce it." The Colonel said bringing his hands to his chin to rub it as if in tactical thought. "Confirmed, Colonel O'ren. I have already sent Battlegroup 49 towards the settlement to occupy it. I shall continue to support the efforts of Captain Duran on the front lines to distract them from your redeployment." Aschwin replied looking over to the captain who promptly nodded in response.

"Affirmative Knight Vethres, over and out." The Colonel soon disappeared from the holograph. Aschwin moved away from the terminal and withdrew his curved lightsaber from his belt. Moving out towards the eastern trench system to cleanse it from mawite raiders. His addlehorn armor shined in the light as rain soon developed over the area. Jumping down into the eastern trench's entrance and moving through the corridors to where the sound of the firefight was. ​

​

 

[Wolfram Triko]

​

Last Hour
Jungles of Panatha, Panatha, Outer Rim
Torrent Company, 501st Legion
0820 hours
Sahar | Saul Vandron | Kriegan Tavlar

Wolf wasn't having the best of days. He hated everything about this planet, he hated the wiry branches like thick brown arms draped in green moss. He hated the humidity that formed beads of perspiration on his forehead that ran down his face. But after all, he couldn't complain, this was what he'd signed up for.

The members of A and B platoons of Torrent Company stalked through the thick of the jungle, clutching their SFR-58 Bozdugan rifles close to their chests. Piercing shrieks of animals hidden in the shrubbery sent chills down his spine. This really was hell, but he couldn't deny that there was some part of him that enjoyed the thrill of it, love of danger just seemed to be coded into him. It was miles better however than his office job, some poor desk jockey counting out the rest of his days on a chronometer. No this was the life. The heads up display analysed the world around him, green boxes periodically appearing around armoured troops that moved with him, a single blue stripes lining their otherwise white armour, worn and dirtied through use.

High Command had given them the unceremonious duty of establishing a Ambling past a low-hanging vine, he glanced up as light from Panatha's sun shone through the spaces in the jungle canopy. When he looked back down, one of the troopers lay lifeless on the floor and the jungle was erupt with the sounds of war. A ping from his HUD alerted him to a grotesque looking marauder that attempted to leap onto him. Raising the weapon to his chin, he sent two blasts through the marauder, taking cover behind a thick tree as the ambush began. "Contact! Take cover!" He ordered breathlessly through the comlink as he moved on, putting a couple blaster bolts in a Mawite before shifting to the shrubbery, keeping his finger on the trigger as he sprayed in the general direction.

One come from the west. He jumped up and blasted another enemy, lighting it up to make sure his opponent was truly finished. Jumping out from every direction, he wasn't sure where they had even originated from in the first place. Eye narrowed as he watched the sight, he let off another shot across his line of sight, watching as three more of the horde went down. Their position illuminated by the red glow of blasterfire, he quickly turned to a trooper with a large backpack on their back, a long spindly antennae protruding out the back. Lowering his head, he hopped over to the Corporal, who seemed to already know the order as he started on with the comms.

"Have we got a link?"

"Yes sir."

"Patch me through to General Vandron and Lieutenant Tavlar."

"Sir!"

Immediately complying with the order, the long-range com link was cumbersome, but excellent when they needed to get out urgent messages such as this one. The static didn't spell success, but he spoke into the mouthpiece anyway. "General, this is Torrent 1-1, we have confirmed contact with Mawite forces." A perfectly timed shriek from a stormtrooper enveloped in the deathly embrace of an enemy seemed to auditorily illustrate their dire situation. "Calling for reinforcements at coordinates Seven, Thirty, Oh Niner Niner." The connection seemed to cut off as three more of the horde appeared and bolted straight for them. Suddenly, they were stopped in their tracks as a fire rained down on them from the repeating blaster of a Corporal.

"Fan out! Take em as they come, reinforcements are on the way!"
​

 

[Isar]

KNIGHTS OF TEL ALAM

Location: Above Panatha
Allies: Artas Tel Alam | Iren Tel Alam | Moksh Tel Alam
Opponents: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | Heinrich Faust | Rolin Doan

​

Boots crunched on snow underfoot. The Tel Alam stood upon a slope of white as the mountaintop fell down into a valley. Below them, their enemy emerged from a thicket of dark pines.

Thin air offered paltry sustenance to lungs already stung by the pervasive numb of the cruel cold. Dal drew in a breath and felt the prickling protest in his capillaries.

When he spoke, the words came out in a fog of warm breath in the chill air.

"Save your breath. We do not care. We will be staying as long as it takes to make corpses of you and your companions. Now, defend yourself, Jedi."

With that, Dal's red blade sprang to life, a bar of shimmering crimson from the length of his curved hilt. Reaching out with his mind, he groped not for the ethereal being - he would leave that sort of unnatural being to Moksh, as the best suited to deal with her - but instead toward Faust, seeking to gain a sense of the man.

 

[Thomas Barran]

4th POST

LAST HOUR
AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY
OBJECTIVE 1

THE_BLOODHOUND
TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
GRANDMASTER OF THE TRI-LUNAR CLIQUE

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

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

Ingrid L'lerim Victor Vel Aath Myri Dara Esmeralda Io
Kriegan Tavlar Bex Tarring Hiran Avola Saul Vandron
Amadeus Blackwood Nukth Kelga'an Wolfram Triko
Heinrich Faust Elysium Dusk

SHRIVEN NO MORE: FEAR THE FOG, FEAR THE SHADOWS - PART 4

MARKWOOD MARSHES, SPIREWATCH FOREST,
CANTHAR PROVINCE, PANATHA (EARLY-SPRING 877 ABY)

To go through all o' this....
What wisdom, what enlightenment is to be learned from all o' this, hm?
​

Hoping his darling was there, watching as she said she always had been, watching the Mongrel, Mercy and the Bloodhound most of all until the lattermost's encounter with Ashla's Arbiter on the Tetan Coral Coast. Hoping his darling would answer him, hoping her words before were just a fearful, rash reaction that had simmered and cooled to reason since, though Thomas knew it in his heart of hearts, (even in his stupor) his beloved goddess wasn't there - forced to observe from afar.

What penance am I paying here, Rebirth?
Think you can bring yourself to tell me now? Hm?​

And all in fearful disdain of a blade that couldn't judge Barran good or evil by the end of his ordeal.

'Bloodhound!'​

His Darling Rebirth was farther from Panatha than any other god or deity for that matter, farther from the one she was thought to have dragged from the Netherworld, as far as she possibly could be. The only guiding principles left to Barran by then were those instilled by the Mongrel, and anything else outside of the Scar Hounds' embrace, and beyond the embrace of a Dark Lord who perished on Tython, all were considered lesser to the brothers and sisters of the Unknown Regions' wildest tribe. All the Maw's supremely powerful tribes would learn to bow to Mar'Zambul's power someday, and with the urge to protect being lessened considerably towards children he knew would be safe in the end, the urge to protect the Scar Hound domains would take precedence above all as a result.

'Bloodhound!'​

Even as his comatose mind wandered through a simulated Netherworld he knew he was destined to see again properly, Thomas knew the Scar Hounds were destined for greatness, and from there, Barran wanted more than ever to transcend it. The booming footsteps of the giants could be heard approaching in his perpetual nightmare, with roars echoing louder and louder, and still, the broken, resurrected Woad wanted to wage his own war on the Galaxy. A war apart from that for the Great Cycle's perpetuation, a war apart from the Darkside's every last war on the Light, such that would make the very meanings of order and peace seem petty in comparison to the Bloodhound's weaponised, vengeful meaning of truth. Mawsworn though he was, and loyal to Solipsis though the Scar Hounds had been, and without one thought of disloyalty to be counted among the cyborg masses, the very fabric that held the Maw together was already beginning to unravel.

'Bloodhound!'​

But such times of uncertainty would always play into the hands of the Scar Hounds, ever patient, ever looking to the horizon for signs of glory, and the one-eyed Woad was no exception.

'Bloodhound!'​

Awoken with a shake from the collars of his coat, a look of pleasant surprise would meet the eyes of the purple-skinned Twi'Lek, seeing Caz was wearing his Darkhan ring proudly as his hands drew back, revealing the Mongrel's-Helm signet on his pinky-finger before the leader of the Mineheel Gang folded his arms in anticipation of important orders. But just like Barran's other elected Darkhans, Caz was quiet and patient whenever needed, fulfilling bodyguard duties as much as those of a specialist or command-substitution nature; and even in the process of letting the Woad find his focus again, Caz would remain as alert as he was calm in his readiness, a credit to all the Scar Hounds who knew him. This would be a great help to the tribe in the following days, especially in consideration of the particular way the Twi'Lek viewed every battlefield he was deployed to, but the Ubese would first be graced with his small-talk.

'I think we can leave this one alone for a moment or two.'

The Darkhan's means of passing the time as they patiently waited for Thomas to gather his thoughts.

'Congratulations on your promotion, Magnar.... I'm guessing you're new to this so I'll keep it brief - this isn't normal, not even for humans. And as our revered Warlord puts it,"It is just a painful byproduct of resurrection. I was never meant to return.", or something to that effect, though I'm sure you get the gist.'

'Correct. Catalysed by memories of my first life bleeding through into this one.', Barran finally uttered, weighing in with his insight as his head was still buried in his hands, though he would eventually rise to his feet to continue. Spitting the blood from his mouth, blowing it out his nose one nostril at a time and wiping the last of his from his eyelids, the Bloodhound then looked to the sky, inhaled deep and sighed slowly and calmly as the skies above began to get dimmer, taking in the dusk as the agitated creatures of the jungle chirped and squawked in all directions. Knowing he'd see the same dusk again a few times in the following days, the Woad dropped his gaze to make eye-contact with the Ubese to further explain,'Much happens in this Galaxy that should not be, but it is what we do in our attempts to adapt that matter most, as much in this day-an'-age as all those that occurred before.... We adapt, an' this is how the Scar Hounds survive.', clarifying his predicament as he drew his sword in readiness for the long and arduous battle ahead.

'And you want me to unleash our monsters again, like I did on Tython.... This is why the Magnar called for me, right?'

Laughing as he raided the Twi'Lek's pockets for his hipflask, the Woad would leave the others guessing until he found the moonshine he was looking for, drinking a couple gulps for numbing and stimulant effects before he finally replied,'Aye, but not yet though. We brought armoured ordnance with us, such that can keep our enemies on their toes until the right moment to unleash the monsters.... You were wise with them on Tython, an' it would serve you well to be wise with them again here.', stuffing the hipflask back into the pocket of his Darkhan's coat and tapping the Twi'Lek's sword in a silent order to unsheathe it. Barran would then look back to the Magnar again, pointing to his lightsabre as he concluded,'We scatter for now, but I want you both to meet me here in a few hours. I have a plan but I need to check on a few things first.... Good luck out there, brothers.', bowing his head before sprinting off into the bushes beyond.

 

[Artas Tel Alam]

Talk, talk, talk. The winged beacon-woman yapped on about the planet, how it was damaged, how she was offering them a chance to leave. The sentimentality of an idiot. There were billions of planets and this one had already been scoured and tainted by Sith decades ago.

What was one more ritual? What was one more war?

Artas Tel Alam reached over his shoulder and undid the clasps on his cloak. It crumpled to the ground behind him.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “If you fight well, I’ll bury your corpse before we leave.”

Even a Jedi deserved the dignity of a burial. Or was she even a Jedi? He didn’t think them the type to use true swords. But once you met one of those monastic cowards you tended to meet them all.

His own lightsaber snapped to life in his hand. Crimson, as was stock and standard among the Sith. It radiated its own temperamental presence in the Force. Dark Side. Not unlike its wielder.

He advanced towards Eina, heavy footsteps crunching through the snow.

Isar | Iren Tel Alam | Moksh Tel Alam | Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | Heinrich Faust | Rolin Doan

 

[Aculia Voland]

Approximate Capship Length: 14,700 km
Forces: 7x Aspis Pocket Carriers (Standoff Gravity Wells activated, loose formation)
56x Aculeo Mini Carriers (Escorting eight per Aspis).
240x Docked Strikecraft Squadrons (Rapidly deploying!)
4x Howling Harrier CAP Squadrons
4x Strike Eagle CAP Squadrons
4x Flying Falcon CAP Squadrons
4x Argus SAWAC Command and Control Squadrons
Assorted Distributed Marines​

As Captain Severin relayed the Eternal’s reply to her, a rare expression of shock flitted across her face for a moment as she was abruptly jostled from her previous musings. L’lerim? The Eternal Empress herself was inviting her to attend the meeting? The leader of nearly a hundred systems and the Force knows how many under her command was allowing a direct meeting?

Well, that’s likely to rustle Rex Valhoun more than a little bit whenever this inevitably gets back to him. She dispatches her nobility to meet another head of state as it is not worth her time, but arranges a direct meeting with one of his admirals, a contractor for her no less? It’s quite clear that she does not see him as having the makings of a varsity monarch, that’s for sure. Looks like he has a lot of work to do on the galactic stage.

Before she could send a reply, however, a nervous looking junior communications officer hurried up before her.

“Sir, our long range SAWACS monitoring has detected a massive spike in encrypted communications broadcasting from the Bakura system. A tenfold increase in the last few minutes alone, and increasing!”

Aculia’s stomach dropped. That was never a good sign and almost always indicated some kind of fighting, and not the kind that was planned either, otherwise the communications would have been jammed. But who was doing it? Had one of the other parties at the summit below betrayed her current employer? The Ashlan Crusade did not seem to be the type, and while the Imperials were not exactly known for their trustworthiness, given their current struggles against both the Maw and the Galactic Alliance, opening up a third front seemed unwise and uncharacteristic. It could not be the Mawites, right? This far behind enemy lines?

Was this a test from the Empress to test her reaction time? A bit odd to do it in the middle of such a meeting, but…

“Deploy standoff gravity well generators, now, maximum range! Scatter into seven groups as practiced, eight Aculeos to an Aspis, loose formation and spread out!” She barked. Whatever the situation, she was not going to have an enemy fleet dropping directly on to her carriers, nor have them all bunched up for an easy kill. Although when designing her Aspis carriers they had to give up on the directional gravity wells to trap opponents or the longest possible range, the extended omnidirectional standoff range meant that any force seeking to drop in on them would be far enough away to give the quick, small, and nimble carriers enough distance to effectively dodge and/or move out of the way of long-range turbolaser fire from heavier, slowing brawler ships and that they would have to close in with sublight engines-and good luck doing that with a large ship.

Of course, it’s not a panacea… that does not save you from smaller, nimbler cruisers, corvettes, frigates, and strikecraft as you bitterly learned from Warmaster Tu'teggacha at Tython, may he burn in hell*, but this time you’re going to hold more strikecraft in reserve to deal with those-or find some appropriate brawling ships of the line to hide behind first.

“We don’t know what or who we are up against! I want an equal mixture of Strike Eagles, Howling Harriers, and Screeching Owls out, now! Rapid launch procedures! Severin, warn the Empress of potential trouble!”

“Sir! Sir! Incoming fleet! I repeat incoming fleet at grid 345! Incoming fleet at 345!”

Spast!

“Combat Space Patrols, prepare to engage and protect the carriers until more can be launched! I repe-”

A small fleet of Ashlan Crusade ships emerged from hyperspace some distance away**, her words trailing off as she said so. The moment they exited hyperspace they started to form up into battle formation. Were they the betrayers? Were they here as part of a warning? What was going on? Sweat was already rolling down her brow.

“Interrogative Ashlan Crusade fleet! I repeat, interrogative! This is Admiral Voland of the XIII Battlegroup, under contract with the Empress. What are you doing here? What is the situation on Bakura?”

If they had betrayed the Empress, every second she could delay them meant another possible one of her strikecraft in the air. If not, they could give her valuable information on what was actually going on. In the meantime, Severin was warning the Empress!

“Empress, this is Captain Severin under Admiral Voland! Something is going wrong at Bakura-details unclear at this time!”

*She is under the impression that he died at Tython and is not aware of his, or the Fatalis's, survival at this point.
**Since it was unclear where exactly they dropped out.

~~~~~~~ Hopefully relevant tags ~~~~~~~~~~~

Ingrid L'lerim Isla Draellix-Kobitana Darth Mori and hopefully anyone else entering the airspace of Panatha.

 

[Ronar]

Objective: Wreak havoc in the Imperial lines
Location: Markwood Marshes, Spirewatch Forest, Canthar Province, Panatha
Allies: BOTM/DH/SH - Thomas Barran Keilara Kala'myr Erion Justeene
Enemies: EE/Empire/AC - Esmeralda Io
Loadout: Bloodreaver vibroaxe, cortosis sword, SHT-07 "Hound" armor, HH-38 "Geysa" hybrid pistol

As he ran through the trees, the song of battle chorused loudly in Ronar’s ears. The smell and sight of blood filled the senses of the Lord of Wolves, driving him forward to the next skirmish, the next slaughter. Heat rushed through his veins and roared in his ears, each step along the fog covered paths declaring the same grim tidings. The Wolves were on the hunt, and they were eager for their next victim.

Or victims, as it were. Once again, Ronar’s sharp cybernetic eyes picked up heat signatures moving through the fog ahead of them. He slowed his dash to a slow stalk, his Wolves falling into position beside him. There were fewer of them this time, all three signatures substantially smaller than what Ronar typically saw in humanoids. That meant one of two things: they were droids, which by design gave off less inherent heat than a warm-blooded being, or they were simply smaller in stature.

In either case, Ronar had fought enough battles to know that one should never leave things to chance. He also had fought enough battles to know that nine times out of ten, when any enemy sent out a smaller group, it was a more elite group as well. Whoever these new contacts were, they would not likely be as easy pickings as the stormtroopers becoming worm food only a few kilometers away. Still, the Bloodhound had ordered them to sew chaos and fear in the enemy ranks. What better way than to slaughter an elite scouting party just as easily as a full infantry patrol?

To make it even better, the enemy was preparing to enter a shallow ravine. They had to be expecting an ambush, having no doubt heard the screams of their comrades and the sounds of blaster fire, but better to have the high ground in a straight fight than even ground in any fight. The communicators of the Wolves still silent, Ronar went again through a series of hand signals. First, he pointed to Kellain and Tegash, then circled his eye and pointed to either side of the ravine. He again made a gun with one hand and exploded the barrel with the other. Finally, he drew a box in the air, then slashed down viciously with both hands.

Take overwatch positions, suppressing fire, pin them down and box them in.

It would be Kellain and Hornath’s role to create a kill zone, an area of fire the enemy could not enter without risking a devastating fusillade. Without room to maneuver, the enemy would be easier targets for the Lord of Wolves, and his vicious vibroaxe. Ronar then turned to Dawi and Hornath, pointing at himself before flexing one arm. He then pointed to them and to himself, before crushing an invisible can.

I’ll take the leader, follow me and destroy what’s left.

Ronar was going straight for whatever soldier seemed to be the enemy commander, hoping to gain their attention while Dawi and Hornath dealt with their subordinates. In a final gesture, Ronar indicated all the Wolves, then pointed at his own temple.

Use your brains.

The Wolves knew the tactics, and after many battles and periods of training, they knew how each other operated. Even without Ronar directing them, they were capable of fighting as a totally cohesive unit. The Wolves all beat their chests in acknowledgement, and Ronar gripped the hilt of Bloodreaver and smiled. It was time.

Just as in the previous engagement, the Wolves didn’t wait for the enemy to reach a defined position. The directions of their warlord in their minds, they simply attacked. By the time the enemy reached the ravine, the Violet Wolves were already running at full speed, angling towards their respective positions. Even if they lost the element of surprise, the five warriors would overwhelm their enemy with the raw strength, ferocity, and brutality of their assault. In a final desperate lunge, Ronar reached the ravine and, with a mighty battlecry, hurled himself through the last of the brush and into the face of the enemy.

In the split second that he was in the air, Ronar’s battle-tested mind whirled, taking precious moments to analyze the enemy before battle was joined and he lost himself in a blood-fuelled rage. His hypothesis had been spot on. Two droids and one very short humanoid were making their way in an arrow-like formation through the ravine. Picking out the humanoid as the leader from their decorated armor, Ronar maneuvered his body mid-flight to aim a thundering axe swing right at the crown of her helmet. Meanwhile, laser fire from the rifles of Tegash and Kellain filled the front and back of the ravine, creating a corridor through which charged Dawi and Hornath on the tail of their commander. With their own battle cries they took aim at the enemy droids and opened fire, filling the air with screaming bolts.

The Wolves had come, and they would leave no survivors.

 

[Rolin Doan]

Objective: 4. Try to stop the ritual
Location: Iron Mountains, Panatha.
Equipment: Two KC-77N Hybrid Pistols - Melee Weapon: Yellowbladed standard lightsaber - Clothing/Armor: Aegis Of The Watch
NPC Companion: Buddy
Allies: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir - Heinrich Faust - Open
Enemies: Isar - Iren Tel Alam - Moksh Tel Alam - Artas Tel Alam - Open

As Rolin neared the area where he sensed the lightsider, he cursed, feeling the four darksiders get to themfirst. He felt their power in the force, it was hard not to. They were clearly powerful, and if it were just one, he wouldn't be too concerned. But with four…well that's trickier. He wasn't able to gauge just how powerful each one was, as battle has yet to have begun. Though with the tension in the air getting thicker with every step he took, he supposed that it would start any second now.

Rolin then turned to his droid companion, whose head was looking over his shoulder.

"Stay close Buddy. And get some stim-packs ready just in case."

<Beep!>

"Good droid."

Then finally Rolin turned a corner of rock, and he saw the source of those that drew him here. His eyes narrowed under his mask, lip curling in general disdain and disgust, as he noticed the darksiders first. He only ever had the misfortune of facing off with a darksider once before, on the planet Mustafar. Against a Knight of Ren, Kybo Ren , as he later found out. He was forced to leave, lest the bastard's men appeared and filled him with holes via blaster fire. So he has yet to truly fight in a life or death duel.

He then looked over and took notice of the one he sensed in the first place.

He…wasn't really sure what he was looking at, to be completely honest. A tall warrior woman, wearing a mask, and two blades at her side.

He never met any force user from the Ashlan crusade, but…well, he honestly expected them to be just like Jedi, but with that self-righteous stick even further up their bum. But besides that, now that he got closer, her aura felt oddly familiar, almost like he sensed it before, but not at the same time…

He shook his head to clear his mind. Deja vu aside, they had sith scum to slay.

"Greetings, gentleman. Do you have your visas? If not, I'm afraid you are to leave this planet. It is Eternal Empire property, and you seem to be breaking at least a good dozen of their laws for simply setting foot here…" He said, drawing close, lightsaber ready to be ignited at any moment of aggression.

 

[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 Beskad | Besar'gam | Mandalorian vambrace || Stealth field generator || OPBC-01m
Allies: EE/AC/Empire | Anashja Tal | Vaux Gred | Open
Enemies: Maw | Khamul Kryze | Kralmus Orr | Open

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

I knew my firearms didn't have the power to pierce the man's armour. He could actually stand in front of me and wait for both magazines in my gun to be empty while I shot him constantly, and I still have not achieved any results. I think I hate fighting Mandalorians, especially when they're covered in beskar. In such cases, only very special ammunition or melee weapons penetrate the armour. I didn't have any special firearms or ammunition. On the other hand, I had only two melee weapons for this task, my two beskads. But I didn't want to engage in close combat with him.

If I survive this day, I will make a special firearm for myself and my company will produce ammunition made from beskar or Dral Kayatr. I would have a chance with that. His insult might have had an effect on me if I had been involved at the time. But I wasn't a Mandalorian that long ago. I was over twenty years old when I got close to culture, and I wasn't much older either, it only passed a few years. One couldn't even call me a foundling. And I didn't really understand why they were so attached to the past. I mean, a little yes, but I always thought it was an exaggeration.

Maybe I am not the best Mandalorian…

So I decided to just give him a short answer, but even then I intended to tease him. Hopefully, this will actually be enough to make a mistake.

<"I didn't go that far. Maybe you don't like foreplay? I feel sorry for your lover!"> I told him.

I watched as he reached for his weapons, and the next moment, the jetpack's rocket started hurtling towards me. I didn't want to test how much my armour would be damaged by that if it hit me. I had only a moment to think; we had a similar jetpack, i.e. I also had a rocket. This was going to be a huge waste, but I didn't want any serious injuries. When the missile came towards me, I also fired mine, but unfortunately not at the man, but at the missile that was coming towards me. And I tried to fly as far away from the explosion as possible.

But we weren't too far apart, so I didn't get very far when the two rockets met and the explosion occurred. I didn't get very far away, so the blast even hit me. The armour protected me, but the jetpack was damaged and temporary… Hopefully temporary damage caused the jetpack to shut down. I cried out as I began to fall towards the ground. Fortunately, I was not too high, but falling five or six metres will not be pleasant. I activated my shield during the fall and tried to turn so that the ground would hit me on as small a surface as possible.

A few moments later, I hit... impact to the ground about four or five metres away from the Death's Hand men, despite the armour I had countless bruises and a minor concussion. The two pistols fell out of my hands and I left a significant dent on the ground despite the shield. I tried to push myself up to get up before he continued his attacks…

<"Feth!"> I groaned

 

[Elysium Dusk]

​

Post: 4
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

As she spoke her words as her sword struck his left shoulder and let out a screeching howl, at least she knew the monster could still feel pain. She pressed in with her right sword for his chest as his spear came around knocking the sword wide which gave him and opening. He spoke his words in a guttural tone the corruption oozing from both in his voice and with that black blooded wound.

Then his hand struck out grabbing at her neck in a moment she felt herself get lifted off the ground. The Grip extinguishing her breath for a briefest moment, but it hadn't fully crushed her throat able to pull in a small bit off air with a wheeze. Then The monster's strength added by gravity she quickly felt the descent her left sword came into strike at the injured arm this time hoping to take it clean off but before that could happen, she slammed into the duracrete ground. All the air in her lungs escape throw the little bit of her throat she could still breath from. "Ughhhfffff." Her neck and skull whip lashed and slammed hard into the duracrete causing her vision to go blurry and dizzy and her hearing began to ring. She felt and it could be clearly heard a couple of her ribs snapped.

The sword in her left hand went flying from her hand and clanged across the duracrete street. She barley managed to keep ahold of her right sword mostly because it was still tangled with the spear both hold each other at bay for the moment. Dazed she felt herself being lift again by the man's brute strength and she could feel the rage flowing through him. She knew he would not relent in his brutality, and she had to figure out how to stop him. Her free left hand reached down to her belt and pulled her exploding knife from it.

She jabbed at his arm with it, if she managed to stick him with it the blade would break away from the hilt then the blade would detonate. Best case scenario she would blow the beast arm off though she would settle for hitting the ground between them to cause an explosion that would separate them before she became pavement splatter. She was gasping for every breath as she continued to try get his arm or pavement between them.

 

[Moksh Tel Alam]

KNIGHTS OF TEL ALAM

Location: Iron Mountains, intersecting pathways toward the Ruins.

Allies: Isar | Iren Tel Alam | Artas Tel Alam
Opponents: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | Heinrich Faust | Rolin Doan ​

Whether they were Jedi or not, they fit the familiar script – "Sense 'evil in the Force,' beeline to it without forethought to stall by cracking wise.' It was clear they had never worked together before based on the way their lines trampled each other, the undermining of Eina's stern warning through Rolin's humorous repetition. Moksh, earlier on, once thought to ask Iren, "What is this?," but as the paladin and her padawan presented their obvious "sameness" despite the stark difference in their cultural presentation, he reckoned any discrepancies were purely cosmetic. Jedi is as Jedi does.

If their ability to collaborate in basic conversation was any indication, Moksh hypothesized that there would be no way they would be able to share battle in a same step. He would test that.

The left hand at his sternum turned outward, the "scratching of his chest" an illusion. Rolin would feel the Force turn on him, acting to trap his lightsaber arm against his side. Moksh would lift his other hand -- full-on spell-casting arms, hands, and fingers -- reinforcing the pinning of Rolin's arm to his midsection through Force Telekinesis.

He would walk toward the boy, strafing as he went, making sure to put Artas between himself and Eina.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

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

As the Taskmaster watched the howling marauder armies march through the hypergate, whisked instantly across a distance it would ordinarily take a week to cross, his mind was inevitably drawn back to logistical concerns. Getting the Mawite warriors to their target was only a small part of what they needed to accomplish in order to make their brutal raid into the Eternal Empire a success. They were not striking for the sake of creating fear and devastation, as they had in their attacks on Nirauan and Coruscant, nor for conquest, as with their campaigns against the Chiss Ascendancy and Galactic Alliance.

This was a smash and grab, and they needed to be able to get the loot back home.

There was no way that they could take Bakura, let alone hold it. The hypergate-assisted invasion of Teta had only worked because the Brotherhood had already carved out a line of occupied territory, and the accompanying supply lines and fleet depots, deep into the heart of Alliance space... and even then they hadn't been able to maintain control of the planet for long. Bakura was too distant for the Maw to muster any significant logistical support for it, and the armies that they could march through the hypergate would be dwarfed by the full might of the Eternal Empire once the element of surprise wore off.

That meant that there would be no option of retreating through the hypergate with their haul; they were going to have to carry out the looted treasures of the Empire the old fashioned way, aboard heavy-laden raider ships. Getting back to Mawite space, past Eternal Fleet patrols and the reinforced border worlds, would be one of the most dangerous parts of the whole venture... which was why sowing chaos and confusion along the way was so important. If they managed to decapitate the Empire's leadership at Panatha, there would be far less resistance to their pillaging, and far less pursuit when they retreated.

The marauder armies would face fierce combat between now and that distant conclusion, and for many of the warriors marching through to Bakura's surface, this campaign would be a one-way trip. But the tribesmen went willingly, even gladly, into the jaws of death. The ascent of Mori had restored their faith in the supposedly inevitable designs of their dark gods, reminding them that all of them - even their now-dead prophet Solipsis - were only transitory instruments serving a timeless cycle. Spending their lives freely and fearlessly would mean passage into the Galaxy To Come, a paradise to reward their service.

If they died boldly in this Great Raid, they would earn that paradise.

~ Show me, ~ Kallan said. And she did.

He floated down the river of thoughts and images and insights that she gave him, taking in all of it. And bit by bit, the fear he felt began to slip away. Slowly he came to understand what she was asking of him, not just by thought but by feeling. It was a frightening thing, to open oneself completely to another person, to share everything and hold nothing back, to keep no secrets... but hadn't he already done that? When he had been a ragged little presence in the back of The Mongrel's mind, or when he'd been forced to make the jump into Mercy's head in Asher's last moments, he had been fully shared with another person.

Those times, it hadn't been his choice to open himself like that.

This time, though, it could be. It was all up to him.

~ There is nothing I wouldn't share with you, ~ he finally told Keilara, when his time floating through those images came at last to an end. ~ We've been tied together for years now, you and I. No one else in the entire galaxy can understand what it's like to be the way we are. Only we have shared this experience. We're already tied together, mind to mind and soul to soul. If there's a way to make that stronger, to connect us even more deeply, then I'm ready for it. ~ He had no body and no life apart from her. Together, fully joined, perhaps they could smooth each other's jagged edges.

Perhaps they could begin to repair the wounds of their minds...

... the scars of what the Maw had done to them both.

 

[Iren Tel Alam]

​

Location: Above Panatha
Allies: Isar | Artas Tel Alam | Moksh Tel Alam
Opponents: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | Heinrich Faust | Rolin Doan
Personal objective: Find more beasties

He sighed.

Why did they always have to turn it into a fight?

"You know, it's funny how Jedi always..." About to make a funny quip Iren trailed off as he noticed Artas was already moving in a determined pace towards Eina. Dal was doing the same to Heinrich. "I miss the time when every duel came hand-equipped with some feisty banter..." He muttered only fractionally sullen.

His brothers always sucked the joy out of these things.

It seemed that two out of three were already occupied, so Iren focused his attention on the lad. Of course they'd leave the boy to him. Seniority often meant having to deal with the biggest problems. Clearly this droid-accompanied child was a bigger problem than either the Force Goddess or the Lightside Crusader.

"Ah, so if I have a visum you will clear-off and let us be?"

The moment Iren felt the Force surge in his brother's presence he pushed himself off the ground and leaped towards Doan. Saber ignited mid-air as he twirled over Moksh's head like a glitterstim-addicted air ballerina. Thank you brother, the tease escaping him easy, as they brushed for just a brief moment.

Then his momentum carried him forward, using the Force propelling him even harder towards the Padawan.

Once he was upon him he would attempt to take advantage of the immobilization Mokh's power was enacting. The smart choice would have been to go for a quick and clean decapitation.

Iren wanted to actually enjoy this however.

Instead the Sith Knight opted to knee Rolin in the face and run his blade cleanly against his back, scorching and hurting, but no killing stroke by any measure.

 

[Khamul Kryze]

The Unchained

Tags: Anashja Tal

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam

The vicious assault from Death's Hand brought down some of the interlopers, and was responded to in kind. The death wasps launched toward Khamul and his followers, prompting them to break formation. Two of his team lost their lives to the counterattack, causing a hiss of disgust to emerge from the Demon Mand'alor. His anger wasn't toward this attacker, but rather to his own followers. How dare they be so weak... they deserved to die.

He ripped past Anashja with ferocious speed, turning abruptly as he motioned for the rest of the strike team to hold back.

"Keep the other flies busy. This one is mine..."

His body shot forth through the air, projecting himself forward as he closed the gap once again. Drawing Mandalore's Lament from his belt, Khamul ignited the blade with a vicious SNAP-HISS. The black and crimson blade roared to life, pulsating with the fiery hatred of the Unchained as he readied it for a strike.

Once the gap was closed, Khamul swung the blade downward. It wasn't a killing blow, but the Unchained hoped to cripple his enemy before they had the chance to retaliate. As his blade lashed out, Khamul sneered from behind his mask.

"You wear the armor of my people, but that does not make you one of us."

Another strike came forth, and then a third, a continuous onslaught of black and red plasma as he continued to make his insults with the use of Dun Moch.

"Do you really think you have a chance against the like of a true Mandalorian? Against Death's Hand? You know nothing of strength. You are simply a pretender in a beskar suit!"

The deep rage he felt whenever in the presence of dar'manda was indescribable. He could not abide such weakness among his people, and would see this pretender put to the test... or to the sword... either way, his people would be better for it in the end.

 

[Heinrich Faust]

Heinrich Faust: Grand Marshal of the Ashlan Crusade

Allies: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir , Rolin Doan

Enemies: Artas Tel Alam[/USER], Iren Tel Alam , Isar , Moksh Tel Alam

Sanctus Dominus

The Grand Marshal quickly caught up to his friend, taking a resolute stance at her side as he eyed the enemies that began to surround them. Drawing his blade, Heinrich let the blade loose in a glorious display of gold. Taking a typical Juyo stance, Heinrich prepared himself for the inevitable fight. He shot a quick glance over his shoulder to the stranger Rolin Doan. Heinrich didn't know this individual, but it seemed that they weren't in league with these minions of the Bogan. He gave a brief nod of appreciation before turning his attention to the dark individuals before them.

"There will be no retreat today, unless you wish to do so. If not, then Ashla have mercy on your soul... because we will have none."

One more quick glance, this time to Eina, accompanied by the smallest hint of a smile.

"There are four of them... rather unfair odds, they clearly need more help."

Heinrich didn't use Dun Moch anymore, as it was something he associated too closely to his days training under Darth Solipsis, back when the Grand Marshal was a young man looking for revenge. Despite this, he never forgot how to craft an insult, and insults do well enough to throw an opponent off guard.

Moments after the words left his mouth, Heinrich could feel mental tendrils of Isar attempting to creep forth into his mind, an action that caught his full attention. He quickly pushed the man's thoughts back, turning his head in the man's direction.

"I know all of your tricks, darksider."

A sly smirk produced itself upon the Grand Marshal's face.

"If you're done playing games, we can get this over with."

 

[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 Kralmus Orr

Outnumbered and outgunned. Story of her karking life. She ran for cover before feeling something hit under her arm, and a zap running to her fingers. She'd dropped her PS-1 as she ducked for cover, then.... A bang. She gripped around her side. The Glastros had protected her fairly well but it was still an explosive. She took a few breaths before pulling out her Trayc'kal, loaded down with blaster rounds. She was 90% sure flechette slugs would be a bad idea. Maybe ion...? No. Noise maker could work, but not now. Blasters it was. She also pulled a hilt from her belt with her left hand. And with one last breath....

She quickly darted up, letting loose with two rounds into the first Mawite she saw, then ducked. Up again with three more shots aimed at another. She had one more round before reloading. So now she would take that last shot before activating the weapon in her left hand. An electo-whip flung out a she tried to pull the shotgun back towards her. All this hurt. Moving her arm hurt. Stupid explosive. She wouldn't show it though. She couldn't. She heard Sil's jetpack. That was good.

"You know, pretty sure surviving the invasions of the dar'jetii (Sith) should tell you if I care about being outnumbered! I've spent years protecting vod and refugee alike from them...." She couldn't make herself say the last part she was thinking. They. Sided. With. Sith. As much as she didn't like the Jedi, when the war was over, it was over. She didn't have to see armor forged from beskar melted with her fellow Mandalorians inside from the Jedi. Torture. Abominations of beasts.... She wouldn't be scared by these lot. At the end of the day... when she fought, she put all her aggression from that time into it. She didn't get her callsign for nothing. CT. Concord Terror. Maybe that made her more like the Sith, but she didn't fight like them. Right now though... these Mawites were testing that resolve.