One Hundred Young Gods (GA Dominion of Mustafar)

[Darth Eversor]

What is your life?​

My honour is my life.​

What is your fate?​

My duty is my fate.​

What is your fear?​

My fear is to fail.​

What is your reward?​

My salvation is my reward.​

What is your craft?​

My craft is death.​

What is your pledge?​

My pledge is eternal service​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGNxebZXOxA​

​

A new dawn was soon to set upon the galaxy like no other. Constructs of man, woman, and machine coming together to show a new brand of dominance among the naysayers and zealots that span in far too many numbers among the stars. The Sith, Jedi, and even those that find themselves in-between were called into Kelghast's mind to question and prod until either dead or confined to a just trial as seen fit by himself and no other. His brethren, while they were his closest thing to family, would understand this mindset and the thought of making each individual planet they touched a safe, controlled environment for both citizens and those that find themselves connected to the Force. There was no control anymore, but Kelghast intended to fix that permanently through the might of the Dreadguard and its legions. He would stand at the helm alongside [member="Rook"] and [member="Ijaat Akun"] and see a new standard of life applied to all things important and necessary. Finally, a solution was at hand. From here on out there was no turning back. New blood had been pumped into the veins of a cause once forgotten, but now no longer a skeleton.

Kelghast stepped forward and stood above the crowds of recruits and those receiving augmentation, clad in crimson fury and the rage that represented the fighting spirit of the Dreadguard. He would help mold them into the machines they needed to be for war and the death they will have wrought upon their enemies. His voice boomed over the masses in a cruel, metallic manner.

"You all have been given purpose. You all have been adopted into the home of protectors, guardians, and the bulwark that separates true diplomacy and false promises. I stand before you all to inform you that there is no turning back. You are here now in this very moment to do one thing and one thing only: Become that of a Dreadguard. Should you fail? Your name will not be broken and forgotten.

You will be carried on into battle time and time after. Your death will give rise and cause to fight harder, to forge a future worth living. Your goal on this day is to become rage manifest, to bolster your hearts and fists with the armor of unrelenting duty.

Your fate is our fate, our purpose is one. We do not see the typicality of black and white, for serving the truest good is no different than pledging to the vilest of evils. Decisions are as the word simply states, decisions. What is done is what must be done. What actions you choose are what makes the difference between who should live and who should be choking on their own blood. We are Dreadguard, we are legion, we are the face of war!"

Kelghast raised his gauntlet skyward in a balled fist. Purely symbolic for the strength these fine souls all possess.

They will become something great. They will become Dreadguard.

[member="Nubica Felidae"] [member="Marcus Foster"] [member="Braith Achlys"] [member="Urya Uvatera"] @Kiyron @Aerin Akun [member="Kage"]

 

[Jsc]

The Lava Mine Tower
w [member="Nubica Felidae"] 1/20

Falidae fought well against the mysterious Darksider of Mustafar. Even as a second lightsaber appeared in his hand so did the villain notice a second disturbance in the Force. Something was very very wrong?

Kaboom.

Wrong indeed. Somebody had just blown up his star vessel's engines. Causing his black droid companion to whirl with excitement inside the blackguard's burning ship. Outside the vessel and on the landing pad, six armored men smiled. The GA landing team lead by Lieutenant Commander Finch. Navy boys all. The Old Man looking rather pleased with himself just about now too. Watching the port engines of a Sith vessel burn.

"Crispy. Just the way I like my bacon. Ha." He smirked and nodded to himself, "Okay people. She ain't going no where anytime soon. Now let's go see about her owner. Got to be some Sith goons around here some where."

The five other troopers smiled together and leveled their machine guns. Help was on the way.

 

[Aerin Akun]

Post: 2/?

As her once-husband turned from her back to his duties, Aerin, too, turned her eyes away. Memories and the shadows of feelings past still lingered in her mind as she advanced a pace in line. Ijaat had been half of her, and twice she had lost him: once when he had finished training with her father and once more... Her gaze fell to the floor. He had been gentle, had possessed a wry sense of humor she had appreciated, had always been concerned with her desires and what they needed for their future. They had had sons together. Boys who would be... 20 now, or somewhere thereabout. Aerin had wanted to try for a girl eventually, and Ijaat hadn't seemed to object (either to the idea of a third child or the steps needed to get there).

Her focus was arrested suddenly by the new speaker on the dais, his voice commanding attention with its tone alone, and she felt the faint stirrings evoked by her memories disappear under a curtain of cynicism. The man speaking was as over-dramatic as the High Lord, but with a more openly fatalistic bent-- and a voice full less of conviction than bloodlust. Aerin's gaze swept over the suit of armor. The message was ultimately the same, but delivered with more directness: death for a cause meant to give meaning to their lives when living would be the better option all around.

It is their poor decision to make. Take the treatment, stay on the backlines for if you're needed for however long it seems to work out. Another step forward. It isn't like you're committing to the cause the way these others are. One place administering medicine was the same as another; until her confusion had been set aside or her mind was made up on whether to stay or go, she would stay put. This collective of nearly-brainwashed super-soldiers could at least afford her some kind of protection, which was more than Fondor had done for her.

It can always end up the same way, she thought flatly, stepping up for her turn at the machine. The droid turned to her.

"Are you prepared for the first step of becoming a Scribe?" the metallic voice asked in a monotone drone.

"Yes."

"Do you consent to the process of becoming a Scribe, which involves the stripping of all midichlorians from your person? There is no way to reverse this procedure, and, should you be Force Sensitive, it will remove all possibility of you having control of or interaction with the Force in the future."

"Yes."

"Please sit," the droid instructed, standing by as Aerin sat where it indicated. Staring straight ahead, she looked into the middle distance, back ramrod straight, as the droid set up the machine.

[member="Ijaat Akun"] [member="Ylvaris Desman"]

 

[Qyren Leret]

Allies: [member="Rook"] [member="Urya Uvatera"] @Kage [member="Marcus Foster"]
Post: 2/20

'Gorgeous'?

She studied Urya briefly as the woman made her way over. Qyren's expression was as smooth as any stereotypical Jedi, but discomfort twisted faintly in her stomach. The arrival of Marcus and the exchange of familiar greetings between him and Rook helped to distract and refocus her on the work at hand. Her discomfort-- or at least her acknowledgement of it-- was pushed aside.

This Dreadguard and Kage were more like those that Qyren had first seen when she arrived, the men she had known before they had gone through all their augmentations. Between Marcus's acknowledged history with Rook and his clear experience in combat, it came as no surprise to her that Rook would make him part of their small band to the planet's surface.

She fell into step just behind Rook as he confirmed their departure and led them to the waiting shuttle. Their footsteps rang out on the metal ramp, and she settled into a seat, strapping in before allowing herself to look over the assembled group. Kage had essentially dismissed her at the first, so Qyren knew where that left her with him for the duration of this trip. Marcus and Urya were mysteries yet. Not wanting to stare, she redirected her eyes to Rook as the shuttle lifted off for the travel from the MM to Mustafar, world of lava and fire-- the closest thing to hell they could find, as Alex had put it.

 

[Urya Uvatera]

Urya scuttled after the group, immediately finding window seat. She strapped herself in, and pressed her face to the window, surveying their descent back to the one planet she could remember being her homeworld. Oosa was probably still waiting near the landing pad, and she was eager to say hello to her loyal Lava Flea.

"So, what exactly are we doing down there? Other than to steal Datapads, because I am naturally going to do anything that you order of me, Rook. I didn't exactly just get a mission briefing before being rudely removed from my observation of your surgical droids." She looked over to Qyren, flicking her a wink. " Urya Uvatera. Apparently I'm a Page who doesn't get to have the special surgery. And you are, Ms. Blue? "

[member="Qyren Leret"] [member="Kage"] [member="Rook"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

​

Hawk had made his way into the main deck where [member="Rook"] had been located. The Mark Three was in his bulky armor, the armor he was now practically living in. Hawk knew what his life was when he signed up for this project. But like any good soldier, he took the job. The trick was that a ship large enough to work with his armor was still being prepared. From there, the pilot would lead an air wing of Guard into battle.

Unless his secondary skillset was to be called, that of combat engineer and gadgeteer. For the most part, he was touring this ship. It was delivered by the Supreme Commander and was being used to house the Dreadguard project. It had a few upgrades and Hawk was taking note of the systems and going to see what he could do to allow the set up to be upgraded. The ship had a lot of different systems, and the most interesting was the pod launching system.

Now that was going to be fun to try out. He’d have to load up a pod, or maybe two, with some engineer gear. Heavy equipment, automated turrets, explosives. A whole lot. The man used his higher intelligent score than most beings to make it all work, really.

Looking to the other Guard, he was also taking notes on the ship.

 

[Qyren Leret]

Allies: [member="Rook"] [member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Marcus Foster"] [member="Kage"]
Post: 3/20

The point Urya brought up was a good one; Qyren had some knowledge of the plan, but certainly not much. Clearly, Urya had gotten even less of an explanation than she had. The other woman accompanying them was... interesting. In closer quarters, the oddities in her features revealed themselves to be metallic; whatever she was, she was not entirely human (if human at all).

Qyren glanced down at her skin and realized the lighting in the shuttle did make her look blue, rather than purple. A whimsical smile crossed her lips briefly as she thought of how much easier life would have been were that the case, but it stayed on hand as a friendly smile for Urya as she replied, "Qyren Leret." After a brief pause, she added, "I, also, won't be having the special surgery."

 

[Placeholder 0133]

The shuttle ride was a relatively short one. Things on Mustafar were...well, established. Their landing would go on without issue. The shuttle was outfitted with an armadillo that would allow them to traverse the hostile terrain with relative ease. In [member="Urya Uvatera"]'s case her laval flea had already been transported to the facility below. The purpose of this premature landing? To get a team on the ground with little notice.

[member="Braith Achlys"] had sent her message. She confirmed as Rook had thought -- she was no baron. Instead, she owned a number of small mines on the planet. That was the closest they were going to get to a friendly alliance outpost in the area. It would have to do.

The ship was halfway through the atmosphere when Rook spoke.

"There is a baron by the name of Rikshard. Neimodian. He has his own little private army. His stronghold is a few klicks out from our landing site." The High Lord sat up in his chair. "Marcus, I want you and Qyren to lead a team into his palace. Cause a distraction, get their eyes off the skies so that Kelghast can bring down our army with minimal casualties. You can use the Armadillo. Take Urya with you. She can help with the doors."

That was that. Still, he couldn't help but smile. "I've got full confidence in your abilities, all of you. Your part is crucial to the mission here; I know you'll succeed.

the shuttle made a hissing noise as it came to land outside the compound. Donning his helmet, Rook pushed up to his feet, and made his way toward the exit.

"I have to play nice and do all the talking. I'll have all the fun vicariously, I s'pose. I've got to go see the lady now."

If there were any retorts, he did not have the time to give them a reply. Miss Achlys was awaiting, and he would have words. Together with [member="Kage"], Rook made his to speak with [member="Braith Achlys"].

[member="Qyren Leret"], [member="Marcus Foster"], [member="Ylvaris Desman"], [member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

Post: [03/20]

Marcus boarded the little shuttle with a quickness, and he really had no idea what they were doing. No combat briefing, no snarky explanation from a senior NCO, and no riveting speech from any officer. He must've shown up late to the party because even Miranda was tight-lipped, searching through data files for a record on possible plans.

"Anything?" His voice didn't escape the confines of his helmet.

She nodded. "Yep. Standard invasion protocols, though we're doing it a little cleanly this time. Precision targets, neutralizing potential hotspots and the like."

Marcus cut his eyes at her. "Hotspots, funny." They were landing on Mustafar.

"At least my puns are funny."

"Right."

It was a marvel how people even considered Marcus to be sane. On the rare occasion did he move his hands or tilt his head when talking to her, but when he did, it appeared as if he were having a conversation with himself. The majority of his Dreadguard boys and commandos knew who Miranda was and had grown attached to the witty, intelligent, and curious little AI. But nobody here knew of her save for Alexander, Kelghast, and Bishop.

When Rook chimed in with orders, Marcus was all ears. The DC-17m clasped tightly within his gauntleted hands was locked and loaded, all of his electronic systems were good to go, and Miranda was as snarky as ever. He glanced at his newest companions, neither of whom were armored nor did they carry anything under the category of 'heavy weaponry.' This was going to be a little difficult, though the indigo woman carried a lightsaber on her form.

Marcus hopped up and moved closer to them.

"Sergeant Major Marcus Foster, former Republic Commando and Mark Two Dreadguard." The introduction was quick, and to the point.

[member="Qyren Leret"], [member="Urya Uvatera"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

The ship was actually really well built. She would be a great vessel to bring to bear on the enemies of the Guard and the Alliance. As the away team was mounting up to head down to the planet, Hawk understood his task. Understand the vessel, begin calibrations and understand all that the vessel had to offer, and he was going to take it step by step. He had seen the pod launching system, but for now he was up at the bridge.

It was a typical war vessel, not much to speak on for its size, and design, Silk Holdings construction had a few cues, like being really ugly, but the vessel was going to get the job done. Sitting at one of the consoles, Hawk was working his way through the systems. Standard shields, boring. Standard engines and navigation, boring.

Ahh, there we were arms and armoring. The vessel was made from a reinforced alutsteel. Very nice. The frame was something of a lighter weight material, but strong. Not too bad. Alusteel was a great material and when shields ran out, the frame and shell of this vessel would handle bombardment very well. Great moves here, Alliance.

 

[Qyren Leret]

Allies: [member="Rook"] [member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Marcus Foster"]
Post: 4/?

Qyren was fitting her ear-piece into place as Rook outlined the plan of action for them. Her eyes locked on his face were intense, searching. The situation he was walking into wasn't hostile, so she had no concerns about him, but it was obvious that he preferred to be in battle with them. The troubles of a leader were many. In this case, though, she thought he could bear them.

Rook's quick exit meant she didn't have to so much as wish him luck, so Qyren let it go, sending up a silent prayer for him instead. She fluidly rose from her seat, adjusting her clothing; she could already feel the heat from the planet; the healing blaster wound on her arm throbbed in response and Qyren forced herself to put it out of mind. It wasn't bad enough to impede her. Not more than a minute after Rook's exit, Marcus took the initiative to get their work underway.

"Qyren Leret," she replied with equal directness, respectfully inclining her head as she did so. "Jedi. Do you have the information we need to locate the stronghold and the skills to drive the Armadillo? I never received the training to operate one."

 

[Urya Uvatera]

"Excellent! I assume it's because you don't want to have to sit in the abnormally huge armor. For myself, its because I'm already dead inside."

Urya knocked on her own skull with her knuckles, grinning. She didn't seem bothered by the stifling heat as they approached wherever it was that they were landing. Her attention turned to [member="Marcus Foster"] when he finally decided to join in the conversation.

"Pleased as a Crystal grub in a jewelry store to meet the both of you. I can work with the Armadillo, but I'm hoping that Oosa would be down there, and that I won't have to drive one of whatever those are. If it comes down to it, I can. Otherwise... I have no opinion. Or any idea what else what kind of distraction we're supposed to be making. Explosive? Subversive? A Parade?"

[member="Qyren Leret"] @Rook [member="Marcus Foster"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

Post: [04/20]

This little team seemed much more pleasant and combat worthy than he'd initially assumed. The Twi'lek girl was busying herself with an earpiece when Marcus caught that glint of confidence in her eyes, the willingness to do whatever it took to secure victory for the invasion force. The other woman was just the same, exuding her own inner fortitude through a plethora of wise-crack analogies and the like. Miss Urya appeared to have a way with vehicles too, and he'd no clue what an Armadillo was.

"Miranda, gimme the tactical and technical specifications of the palace."

It took the AI only seconds to retrieve the data and transfer it to Marcus's wrist holographic projector. The commando toggled it on and motioned for the other two to have a look.

"Heavily guarded, extremely sturdy and thick construction, and they've several automated defenses within and without the compound. Demolitions will be a no-go unless we're inside, this place was built to withstand molten slag and rockfall." He glanced at the outer buildings. "However, they've got several anti-aircraft and anti-tank fortifications, which I assume are for unwanted guests and possible wildlife - if any."

"Shall I construct a plan, or do you already have one?"

He already did. "So it looks like our objective will be to neutralize those batteries and any sensor stations they have, so our boys don't die on the way down.

"Copy that?"

[member="Urya Uvatera"], [member="Qyren Leret"]

 

[Qyren Leret]

Allies: [member="Rook"] [member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Marcus Foster"]
Post: 5/?

Qyren nodded, eyes still studying the holographic map in an attempt to memorize the location of the aforementioned batteries and stations, then belatedly added, "Copy." She pulled her eyes from the hologram and trotted down the exit ramp to locate the Armadillo Rook had promised. When she found it, the controls looked simple enough; she thought she would be able to handle it if necessary, though it was generally better to have an experienced driver.

"I might be able to drive it, albeit not well." She wasn't going to lie to herself or to others about her abilities. That sort of arrogance and self-delusion could get people killed. The Armadillo was unlocked, so Qyren let herself inside. It was somewhat cramped, but there was room enough for five in here and they were only three.

"Urya," she called back, "Are you driving?"

 

[Urya Uvatera]

"Right. Subversive is good."

Urya spotted a lava flea with a tattered yellow flag waiting patiently nearby, but Qyren's call to her brought her attention back. " I.. Uh. Yes. Yes I can..." She blew a forlorn kiss towards Oosa, and trotted down the ramp. She slid into the driver's seat, looking over the controls.

"Fun. I haven't played with one of these before."

Her hand went up to her metal faceplate, and pulled a long cord from inside. There was the slight sound of a spool unwinding quickly from her left temple. She found a dataport in the vehicle's dashboard and plugged herself in. A flash of information, basic controls and specs rushed over her field of view, and faded. The cocky attitude had been washed from her face, replaced with an expression of serene calm; Urya fussed with the Armadillo and started it. She would wait until everyone was on board before locking down the doors and zipping away towards their objective.

[member="Qyren Leret"] [member="Marcus Foster"]

 

[Darth Eversor]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vHG_-Vb4q8​

​

From the heavens they shall rain like fire come to bring atonement. From their steely womb they shall be birthed to spread the morals and smite the heathens against brotherhood. Those chosen men and women clad in the gift of death shall carve their name into the victim and the conscious of the galaxy forevermore. To scar and rend the spirits of the wicked and leave them with nightmares they cannot escape. To become fear and war itself. Armed they shall be with the mightiest of blades, the most powerful guns, and the protection of each shoulder on either side of them. For every Dreadguard that has a beating heart brings a chance to thwart any foe no matter their stature in life or their power. Eternal service cannot be broken or shaken. The stalwart legions shall see it through.

The Dreadguard Tribune known as Kelghast readied himself for the inevitable doom that he would bring upon the targets marked for him and the legion. They would help seize control of the stronghold and bring the baron to his knees. There was no room for failure here, no pity to be earned or sacrificed to squeeze out unwarranted mercy. There would be none. Kelghast's eyes burned with anticipation and a desire to allow hell to swallow his vision in the inferno he so desperately wished to bathe his enemies in. His hand would lead that very action, and with that hand he will snap the neck of defiance. None would stand against it.

None would be prepared for the storm about to be unleashed.

Standing before the army, Kelghast looked at them all and knew that this would be the first taste of blood some of them would ever have.

"Listen close and listen well. We will soon be shooting down onto Mustafar to conduct a raid upon a stronghold, and we will kill each and every little thing that shoots at us. Every slug, bolt, or whichever you prefer will matter and will be used properly. If I catch you wasting ammo or resources, I will shoot you myself. If you should try to hide or refuse command, I will shoot you myself. If you disobey me, I will break you. You are now Dreadguard and will be treated as such. You are all brothers and sisters joined together for the cause of war and bringing about a better age for the galaxy. Make ready for departure, gather yourselves and remain focused on the objective at all times."

Kelghast gave a brief but strong salute before going to ready his weapons. His massive crimson armor clanking and stomping against the ground as he walked off, leaving the fresh recruits to do what was right and what was expected of them. Slapping a fresh mag into his assault rifle, Kelghast also patched in to contact with what boots were on the ground. "We're prepping now. Give me the signal when you're ready."

[member="Rook"] | [member="Marcus Foster"] | [member="Kage"] | [member="Qyren Leret"] | [member="Urya Uvatera"] @ | [member="Malcom Finch"] | [member="Aerin Akun"] | [member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Marcus Itera]

Post: [05/20]

Things were moving fairly quickly. The shuttle touched down and they were out. Marcus was really the only one to sweep the area, his DC-17 jammed into his shoulder as his motion sensors pinged and his eyes surveyed the rocky outcroppings laced with patches of molten lava and steaming with hot air. In that instant, he was thankful for the Katarn armor covering him from head to toe, though the moment he touched lava he was a goner.

Everything was clear.

Marcus boarded the Armadillo quickly, planting a hand against the computer systems of the vehicle. Upon the hologram display, Miranda came through within the vehicle rather than his helmet.

"This is Miranda. She'll be handling our navigation, computer needs, and has a tech support hotline should something break." He gave a snort before he magnetically hooked the Deece to his backpack and took his place in the dorsal turret.

"Head due east for half a kilometer, then we'll need to dismount to get to the AA batteries. There should be a power grid located between the two eastern-most batteries."

[member="Urya Uvatera"], [member="Qyren Leret"]

 

[Qyren Leret]

Allies: [member="Urya Uvatera"] [member="Marcus Foster"] [member="Rook"]
Post: 6/?

Qyren was not bothered by much, but she felt distinctly uncomfortable with Urya pulling a cord from her face, and so averted her gaze, unable to watch further. Instead, she watched Marcus climb into the vehicle and shut them in as she reviewed the potential issues that could arise once they arrived and ways to counter them.

She nodded to Miranda in greeting when the woman appeared, and let the AI do what she was best at. This portion of the mission was where she could do nothing; today, it was only the battlefield where she would be useful. When the call came in from Kelghast, Qyren was the one to respond with a brief, "Understood."

Between Urya's driving and Miranda's navigation, the trip was a quick and bumpy one. Eventually, Qyren caught sight of a set of structures that she assumed had to be the first and most exterior AA battery of the compound. Pulling her saber from her belt, she stood as soon as the vehicle stopped and exited cautiously but quickly, Force and physical eyes sweeping the area for threats or allies.

"They'll be coming soon," she predicted, looking toward their objective as the group began their quick approach to the battery.

 

[Corey's OOC]

Done with cards
3 of diamonds.

Armor to arms. That was something else the Dread Guard’s ship had. Sure, for a ship its size, it would be undergunned but that wasn’t going to stop it. What it did have was enough defense guns to keep things away from the hull, but the long ranged, heavier weapons? The ship ran on a completely different lay out, something requested by the High Lord of the Dread Legions, or whatever nonsense [member="Rook"] was calling himself. Hawk didn’t rightly care what the man was calling himself.

All he cared about was the arms and armoring, the engineering aspect. And that meant the weapons, as he got off topic. Tapping on the screen the vessels weapons came up. Pretty standard fare for the defense weapons, quad laser turrets, flak guns.

But where the change was really different was the choice in offensive weaponry. Mass accelerator batteries mixed in with turbolasers. Would take ray and particle shields to stand up to that, and a mass accelerator slug did a lot of nasty damage to a starfighter when they would cross paths. Those were going to be fun, but the ammunition required took up a bit more space. Hopefully the shells weren’t kept anywhere that could go boom.

 

[Urya Uvatera]

Urya squeaked a little when she suddenly felt a second brain inside the vehicle. Miranda was an unwelcome intruder.

"Hey! Warn me next time! That's just rude, putting two heads together in one. I only have so much processing power."

Which was kind of true and kind of a lie, but Urya hated brushing minds with AI. She was always afraid they'd leave something of themselves inside her brain that would open up more cans of worms and trojans than she was ready for. No one needed cyborg brain babies suddenly spawning in their hard drive and infecting the cyber world, driving her slobbering mad and sapping her brain power until she was just a husk of a person ... Perhaps that wouldn't actually happen, but it was a nightmare she had frequently. Better safe than sorry because cyber-viral personalities budded from her brainstem and went out to infect the world like botflies. Or that fungus that controls insectoids...

" .. meh MEH meh meh she will handle the computer needs and tech support. FEH. You have a walking library right here buckaroo.." She pointed at her own head while she drove, coming to a stop at their destination. She unsnapped the end from the dash, letting the cord whiz back into her temple and followed [member="Qyren Leret"] out. She pointedly ignored [member="Marcus Foster"] from this point on, only looking towards the Twi'lek when she spoke.

"I can disable the.. whatevers... Hnh. Sorry. My brain's a bit fuzzy after someone put a second brain in my dashboard. Power grid. Though, if its as simple as just shooting a panel or slicing through some cables, please do that first. Saves time and energy and then we can move on to the next objective. "

@Rook [member="Qyren Leret"] [member="Marcus Foster"]