Faction Reforged In Shadow - [Queen's Guard/Dark Court]

[Darth Virelia]

Reforged In Shadow

Beneath the distant hum of mining drills and the slow churn of slag haulers, the Peragus system exhaled heat and static, each venting plume painting red scars across the dark. Somewhere below, the planet burned itself hollow. Somewhere above, men hauled what was left of it toward profit and promise.

The convoy drifted free of orbit on slow ion thrusters — three bulk freighters, their holds sealed and cold, wrapped in the dull silver skin of corporate pragmatism. Beside them, Mandalorian escorts cut through the haze like blades, gold and gunmetal glinting under fractured light. Their formation was tight, precise, but relaxed. It was a simple run. Unremarkable. The kind that never reached the holofeeds.

And yet, something moved in the silence.

At first it came as interference — static threads whispering through comms, a sensor ghost at the convoy's edge, dismissed as a dust echo or flare. Then came the dim flicker of a light against the starline. One. Then another. Then dozens. Shapes unfolded from shadow, hulls wreathed in heat haze and black alloy, transponders blank.

The Queen's Guard had arrived.

No call to surrender. No warning. Just the bloom of light as magnetic torches struck home — the first sparks of the ambush lighting up the void. Freighters lurched under the assault, shields flaring blue, comm channels erupting in shouts as alarms screamed across the decks.

The lead Mandalorian corvette veered to intercept, plasma trails cutting through darkness, but the Guard's ships were already among them — silent, surgical, inevitable. Boarding pods struck like meteors. Locking clamps rang through hulls.

In the heart of the chaos, the command signal pulsed once across the Guard's encrypted channel.

The hunt has begun.

Above the burning world, the Daragon Trail ignited — a storm of fire, shadow, and beskar. And within it, destiny moved quietly between the wrecks, waiting to see who would seize the cargo… and who would be claimed by the dark.


Adelle Bastiel Warpriest Prime Veyra Kryze Caera Kryze Evangel Talysa Kast Darth Keres (Just tagging the people from the LFG,all members of the Dark Court are automatically invited to join, anyone else just pass a DM to me!)

 

[Veyra Kryze]

"Boarding Party."

Tags - Caera Kryze [Everyone else as well but I already tagged you]

Veyra watched the void burn.

The viewport's glow painted a dull amber line across her visor, cutting through the black like a wound that refused to close. Each tremor of the hauler's hull beneath her boots sang of pressure and containment — a rhythm she knew well. The silence before a hunt always carried that same weight: the ache of discipline against the edge of desire.

Her gauntleted fingers flexed once on the mag-cable coiled at her hip. Beyond the glass, the freighters glided lazy and fat through the dark, their escorts unaware that death had already slipped into their orbit. The security detail flew clean formations, efficient, almost admirable. It would make their collapse all the more satisfying to watch.

She forced her pulse to slow, breathing out through the internal filter of her helm. Not yet.

Orders had not been given. The Captain's voice would come — cold, steady, divine in its authority — and only then would she let the edge off the chain. Until then, she waited, a coiled shadow among the Guard. Around her, the dropship was alive with quiet readiness: armor seals locking into place, weapons clicking home, the faint hum of mag-clamps syncing with the hull. Every movement was ritual. Every breath, a prayer to inevitability.

Through the comms came the faint hiss of interference, distant screams over open frequencies. The Mandalorians were starting to realize what had found them. Veyra smiled behind the mask — not wide, not cruel, but the small, private smile of a predator who knows the terrain better than the prey ever will.

A faint vibration ran through the deck. Boarding pods were being primed. The scent of ozone and lubricant filled the cabin. Someone muttered a blessing; another checked a blade's charge level. Veyra said nothing.

Her gaze drifted once more to the void, to the glittering silhouettes that marked the enemy line. So many targets. So much iron to claim.

She rolled her shoulders, felt the weight of her rifle settle into her arms, and let the anticipation coil tighter in her chest.

 

[Caera Kryze]

Torchlight from the emergency strips painted long, violet lines across black beskar — her beskar — each reflection carving the edges of her armor into something almost holy. Caera Kryze stood alone beside the mag-sealed bulkhead, the low hum of the drop engines thrumming through her boots. The sound was steady, constant. Predictable.

She preferred it that way.

Her hands moved with ritual precision. The process checking seals, calibrating her rifle, adjusting the servo-tension in her gauntlets was almost second nature. Every action was part of a system; every system, a promise. The others in the bay worked in small knots, whispering prayers to gods they didn't believe in, reciting names of those they'd lost. Caera recited nothing. She didn't pray.

She had work to do.

Her visor displayed the convoy schematic — three freighters, two escorts, one command corvette. The Queen's Guard had already cracked the outer perimeter. Boarding coordinates flashed in red. The first wave would make contact within minutes. She traced the attack vectors once more, eyes narrowing. Efficient. Clean. Almost beautiful.

Then her gaze paused on a smaller, pulsing signature inside the transport. A Mandalorian transponder, just as the reports said.

Veyra Kryze.

Caera's throat tightened beneath the helmet, though her voice when she spoke was perfectly calm. "Visual confirmation pending." She muted herself before anyone could answer. The silence felt heavier now.

It had been years. She'd followed fragments and false trails — wrecked outposts, empty helmets, the kind of rumors that died before you reached the next system. But the signal here was clean. It was her.

For a moment, the disciplined machine faltered. She remembered the smallness of her sister's hands, the stubborn tilt of her jaw, the sound of laughter in a world that had since burned to ash. Then the image dissolved, replaced by the cold clarity of the present.

Caera drew her rifle, mag-sealed it to her arm, and stepped toward the waiting breach.

If the galaxy demanded blood for reunion, so be it.

Tag - Veyra Kryze Talysa Kast Adelle Bastiel Warpriest Prime Evangel Darth Keres

 

[Rowena-022]

Location: Caera Kryze’s Boarding Craft, High Orbit of Peragus II - Peragus System
Objective:

• Board the freighter.

Tag: Veyra Kryze Caera Kryze

A turquoise luminescence ignited beneath a sleek fringe of fuchsia hair. Rowena-022 opened her photoreceptors as she rose from her kneeling posture, the nearby torchlight seeming to drown in the light-absorbing void of her bodysuit. The gynoid took in her surroundings then, assessing the others assembled in the bay. She gave a small, faint smile upon seeing those who prayed. Perhaps they did not pray to the Dark Queen (not yet, at least), but no matter their intentions, the fact that they had chosen to come for this mission proved their devotion to Her.

Still, their devotion needed to be shown the correct path. Thus, Rowena-022 sank to her knees once more, this time placing herself directly in the midst of the gathered Queen’s Guard, mercenaries, and soldiers. Her voice cut through the ambience as a synthesized melody, carrying equal parts devotion and fervent zeal.

"My body is a vessel for Your wrath.
My mind is a fortress for Your secrets.
My soul is an offering for Your cause.
I am nothing. You are all. Through me, You strike."

Perplexed and wary glances were immediately cast in her direction, but the gynoid was lost in rapture. She rose again after finishing, a wide, fervent smile illuminating her features with unsettling serenity.

“For the Queen, for the Court, for the Shadow!” Rowena-022 cried aloud, a sudden, unrestrained surge of piety rising within her behavioral matrices. A gruff mercenary snorted. A soldier cringed. A heavy gunner frowned. Nevertheless, none moved to stop her as she made her way towards the mag-sealed bulkhead and the waiting breach. There, her gaze fell upon Caera Kryze , the woman’s black and violet-toned beskar sending a thrill of religious ecstasy cascading through her circuits.

Truly the colors of devotion!

“Sister,” Rowena-022 addressed her, a cool, graceful hand touching her pauldron. “Your devotion to our Queen is woven into the very metal you wear. Know that She sees you, as She sees us all. But for you, She holds special blessings in readiness.” She began. “I ask that you cast aside all hesitation. In Her name, be relentless against the coming foes. Be the storm that breaks them, and She will anoint you with victory!”

Spoiler: Loadout

• Specter Attire System
  
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• FAE/W-12 Assault Carbine Mk. II
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-20x FAE/S-08 Electro-Scope
    • Silencer
  • Ammunition
    
    • Extended Magazine - Controlled Penetration
    • Standard Magazine (4) - Controlled Penetration
    • Standard Magazine (2) - High Explosive
• Nox M-10 “Wraith”
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Nox Suppressor
  • Ammunition
    
    • Power Cell (10)
    • Gas Canister
• FAE/MDE-02-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (4)
• FAE/MDE-02-S2 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (2)
• Miniaturized Infrared Smoke Grenade (2)

 

[Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze]

“And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon‘s that is dreaming.” — Edgar Allan Poe

Gear- Basic Rifle, Basic Dual Pistols, Armor
Tags - Open

The dark visor, proudly polished to a fine gleam that was mirror like, reflecting one's own detailed reflection back in a disturbing, nervous-like staring contest, hid amber eyes tainted with cold and malice. Those eyes, calculating and observing, looked out into the starry darkness of space. Fixated on the floating object.

All around the outside of the viewport where he stood, those eyes, in architect form, caught fleeting glimpses through his peripheral vision of hungry, salivating wolves, striking at their prey in pack formations; could not distract him from the prize ahead. The hunt had begun. A sense of eagerness crept over him, poking and prodding, encouraging him to act impulsively. But that strong, willed-mind that served him so faithfully would not allow for the sour taste of hastiness to damper his palate.

His time was drawing close. Almost in reach.

Overhead lights flickered from a bright, illuminated light of pure white to an angry solid red; coupled by the groans of yells and shuffling of the feet: along with that one perfect, dark beautiful sung song of two ships joining harmoniously together further added to the abrupt change of the atmospheric mood. It was time. Up ahead, the plasma torches went to work, cutting and chewing into the durasteel doors, hurling sparks and tiny pieces of heated metal discriminately about.

In near tandem, both doors lurched forward, the forthcoming heavy crashing thud fell non-existent when they drunkingly kissed the floor; drowned out by the barrage of exchanging blaster fire between invaders and the small hopeless hand of defenders. Pushing forward, the thought of retreat inexcusable, the first and second wave broke through; securing the slightly above medium-sized cargo hold from which they can prep for operations.

Clad in all-black beskar'gam, a symbol to the man's damned soul who wears it, the Queen's Guardsmen entered through the ruined doors, stepping deeply into a puddle of silence and violence's aftermath. The devil had arrived.

 

[Evangel]

"Stand to!"

The deep beat of the Captain's boots across the deck accompanied the shout for those assembled to stop what they were doing and pay attention. "Our devotion to the Dark lady gives us strength. By Her command shall we bring victory. But do not think less of the enemy we meet today. They are not weak. They are not fools. Ignorant as they are to Her Grace, they are committed to their ignorance as we are to Her. Reveal the truth to them, and see Her Will done," Evangel called out to the assembled Queen's Guard.

Her helm had slowly swept those present in search of any that showed signs of wavering. Fear was no sin. Succumbing to fear was a sin. Doubt in Darth Virelia, or to the purpose of her Guard being there was a sin. Their Captain would listen to strategies and tactics proposed to see their mission done, but if any of them questioned the Dark Lady herself they would find themselves swiftly corrected.

"Take your positions. Prepare to board!"

They would claim the cargo for their own, and should any Mandalorian be open to bowing before their Mistress they would be taken alive if possible -- regardless of interest or consent. Ignorance could be bled out of a person in time.

In short order, their boarding vessels would latch upon the hull of the freighters while other vessels sought to hold the attention of the escort vessels. That was when the word was given to commence the operation. The Queen's Guard Captain acknowledged the command by broadcasting, "Breach." Torches and pylons spread open to tear holes in the vessels for unannounced guests to step inside the vessels.

The Captain was one of the first to set foot inside enemy territory with a blaster in hand. Silent hand gestures directed them to form teams and split up to secure the area. From here they would move deeper into the vessel to take the cargo.

As much as she had the urge to find and butcher any living creature on the ship, their Captain did not have the honor of being so free. Discipline brought honor to Virelia, and so she suffered in silence overseeing the boarding parties. Their reports of defenses or contact with the enemy would be crucial to making timely adjustments to their plan -- flanking them, securing a means of taking the cargo, and even preventing reinforcements boarding the ship behind them. They were fighting their own, after all.

Location: Freighter, Breach Landing

Veyra Kryze | Caera Kryze | Rowena-022 | Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze
Adelle Bastiel | Warpriest Prime | Talysa Kast | Darth Keres​

 

[Talysa Kast]

​

Reforged In Shadow

Objective: Obsond with the convoy's cargo
Location: Near Paragus
Tags: Veyra Kryze | Caera Kryze | Rowena-022 | Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze | Evangel

Talysa Kast stood still, tall and ready to leap into action. She was a member of the Dark Court's Queensguard, but for this mission she did not wear matching armor to the Kryse guardswomen. Though she proudly wore parade armor when assigned body detail to the Dark Queen, her personal armor was a source of great pride and was worn whenever Talysa was not in the presence of the Queen.

As she waited for entry to the target to be secured, Talysa looked around at the gathered warriors. Battle was coming and each handled that in their own way. Talysa tried not to judge an individual for whatever rituals were taking place. Combat brought out many superstitions. Whatever her fellow combatants needed to do to get in the right frame of mind was their business and Talysa wouldn't stop them feeling a hundred percent ready for battle due to the fact she didn't understand the superstition.

When the little girl took to the center of the bay and made an impassioned if short worship to the Queen, Talysa was happy that her helmet hid the roll of her eyes. She muttered something about a "tiny zealot", in Atoan under her breath. It was a language she was quite sure no one in the bay other than her knew, but its use was habit not a desire to hide her thoughts. Zealots were useful in battle. And the Queen had many. Talysa was thankful when the prayer was done the zealot picked out one of the Kryse to share her continued preaching with.

Talysa's only ritual was a final weapons and systems check. She checked that both blasters had full charges, slid each of her blades from their scabbards to be sure they would not be stuck should she need them in battle, and a systems check on her armor. When she was sure all was well, the Captain of the Queensguard arrived. She was a bit on the devout side for Talysa, or maybe she stepped up her rhetoric for the others onboard.

The call to breach came and all thoughts of the pre-combat rituals emptied from Talysa's mind."Akior dratol!"Talysa called out in Mando'a. With her rifle gripped and ready to dispatch any opposition Talysa stepped forth behind the Captain and continued on towards their destined prize in the cargohold.

[/FONT][/COLOR]

Spoiler: Loadout

• Armor
  • Personal Beskargam
• Weapons
  • Paranaor Blaster Rifle
  • Beskad
  • Repentance Blaster Pistol
  • Vibroblade

 

[Veyra Kryze]

"Boarding Party."

Tags - Caera Kryze Evangel Rowena-022 Talysa Kast Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze

Veyra felt it — the shift.

That slow, perfect crack in the silence where restraint began to bleed into purpose.

The hum of the drop engines settled into her bones, the rhythm she'd been holding herself against for what felt like hours. Around her, the bay pulsed with life — zealous, reverent life — but all she could hear was the quiet inside her helm. The breath before violence. The calm before she was allowed to move.

Rowena's mechanical voice still echoed through the chamber, melodic and fervent, her prayer spilling over into the silence like a sermon no one had asked for. "My body is a vessel…"

Veyra's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. The droid's worship was endearing — perfect, perhaps — but not wrong. The Queen deserved fear, not just faith. And Veyra? She was happy to deliver both. She would love to 'test' the devotion of this model sometime.

She leaned against the bulkhead, arms folded, amber eyes behind her visor tracking the flicker of violet light that danced along Caera's armor. Her sister. Her mirror. Her ghost.

Veyra's fingers flexed against her bicep, as though the mere thought of her name was enough to make her muscles itch. She could almost taste the memory — the dirt, the smoke, the half-snarled promise of never again.

And now here she was. The Queen's Guard. The faithful hounds of a new god. And across the breach, the same blood ran in the veins of those she'd left to die.

Her tongue brushed the back of her teeth as Evangel's voice filled the bay.

That voice. Calm, commanding, sanctified. The Captain spoke of discipline, of Her Grace, of purpose. Of truth. Veyra bowed her head slightly — out of respect, not devotion. Evangel's strength was unquestionable, her resolve absolute. But it was the way she said Her name that made the heat coil low in Veyra's gut. It was worship given shape, violence made holy.

When the Captain barked "Take your positions!" the restraint Veyra had been holding finally began to tremble. She pushed off the wall in one smooth motion, the click of her boots against the deck sharp in the confined air.

The others surged forward — zealots, soldiers, the faithful, all trying to outpace their own fear. Veyra moved slower. Deliberate. Her armor was shun with the ornamentation, the faint etch of a violet sigil across her chestplate — the mark of her Queen. Her hand drifted down the length of her rifle, then to the hilt of her beskad. The weapon thrummed faintly under her touch, as if eager. As if it knew what came next.

Soon.

The hull shuddered as the clamps locked. The sound of plasma torches biting into durasteel was a hymn all its own — the scream of metal under will. She could feel the pressure rising in her throat, the animal need to laugh, to scream, to rend and tear and make the enemy understand what it meant to stand against the Court.

But she did not move. Not yet.

Instead, she stood beside the breach, letting the heat of the cutting torches spill over her armor, every hiss and spark feeding that gnawing edge inside her. She imagined what waited on the other side — the confusion, the panic, the faces turning toward the sound of their deaths.

She whispered softly into the comms, voice like smoke curling through the line:
"Let them pray while they can."

Then, as the final cut gave way and the doors began to buckle, she steadied herself — one hand on the haft of her blade, the other flexing, slow and eager.

Behind her visor, Veyra smiled.

 

[Caera Kryze]

Metal screamed as plasma tore through the freighter's hull, and violet light burst into the dark like a living wound. Caera Kryze stood at the edge of the breach, her silhouette framed by the inferno. The heat painted the edges of her armor in molten gold, a vindication of fiery belief.

Rowena's zealot-voice still lingered a distorted hymn to the Queen, all synthetic fervor and righteous poetry. Once, Caera would have silenced her. Now, she only listened. Every word was clean, unwavering, certain. Certainty was a rare and beautiful thing in a galaxy of ghosts and guesswork. The faithful had their use, she thought. They gave shape to the silence. They filled the void that others could not bear.

Her fingers flexed once on the rifle's grip. "For the Queen," she murmured — not as worship, but as execution order.

Then came the voice.

Crackling through static, low and familiar. "Let them pray while they can."

Veyra.

The sound slid through her like a blade. For a fraction of a second, all the years collapsed into a single, blinding instant: the training grounds, the laughter, the screaming ruin of fire and ash. And then, nothing. The memory dissolved like smoke.

Emotion was a distraction. Emotion was decay.

"Confirmed," she whispered to herself, tone flattening back to ice.

The last of the breach gave way with a thunderclap. Air roared into vacuum, dragging debris, prayers, and screams into the void. Caera moved first.

Her boots met the scorched durasteel with silent precision as she entered the corridor beyond. Mandalorians turned in confusion. Her rifle spat light. One, two, three clean bursts. The first fell before he saw her; the second's visor shattered mid-shout; the third managed half a curse before his chest folded inward under the impact.

The hallway filled with smoke and silence.

Caera pivoted, eyes scanning the schematic overlay in her HUD. The signature, Veyra's signature — was moving toward the forward hold. A direct path. No avoidance. No fear. Typical.

"Veyra," she breathed, the name cold against her teeth. "Always the flame."

A grenade arced through the haze, she caught it mid-air with a flick of her wrist, redirected the throw, and sent it spinning back through a side door. The explosion painted the bulkhead in orange and gore. The concussive wave made sure she felt the violence of her actions.

And as she advanced, violet light dancing along her armor's edge, the faintest whisper escaped her lips for the ghost on the other end of the channel:

"Come, little sister."

Tag - Veyra Kryze Rowena-022 Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze Evangel Talysa Kast

 

[Veyra Kryze]

"Boarding Party."

Tags - Caera Kryze Evangel Rowena-022 Talysa Kast Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze

Firelight crawled over her armor as she surged through the breach, the howl of decompression replaced by the deeper roar of gunfire. The Mandalorians and security team were disciplined — tighter formation than most pirates, well-drilled — but discipline meant predictability, and predictability meant death. Her beskad flashed once, twice, carving arcs of molten violet through the smoke. Blaster bolts ricocheted off her shoulder plates as she advanced, unflinching, every step a promise.

She could feel her sister's presence ahead — that steady, clinical rhythm that could only belong to Caera. The ghosts of their blood called to each other across the chaos, one cold, one burning.

"Always first to the kill," Veyra hissed, her voice low on the comms, equal parts mockery and affection.

She slammed a Mandalorian into the wall with her boot, the impact snapping durasteel plating, then spun him around to use his body as cover. "Make them bleed for every meter!" she barked, eyes flicking between flickering indicators.

A flicker of movement caught her HUD — not enemy, but opportunity. An upper catwalk, half-collapsed, hanging over the main hold.

Her grin returned.

"Who's feeling brave enough to flank?"

 

[Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze]

“And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon‘s that is dreaming.” — Edgar Allan Poe



Gear- Basic Rifle, Basic Dual Pistols, Armor
Tags - Caera Kryze / Veyra Kryze

A hazy, smoke induced cloud glided innocently throughout the cargo hold, the smell from discharged blasters inhaled by those without breathing apparatuses or enclosed helmets felt the sting of irritation infecting their olfactory senses, while the fumigated pests laid sprawled out peacefully on the floor. There was no time to bask in the small, meaningless victory; there was much to be done before day's end.

"Causal searches of the corpses," the black armored Mandalorian hissed, his voice muffled and metallic in tone, "We are on a time schedule."

The devil's command began earnestly, bodies of the dead subject to gross humiliation where quickly stripped and searched. He was a warrior, strategic and confident in his actions, but he held to no code of ethics, no written or unwritten writ swayed him, corpses were treasure chests; ripe for looting. And looting was just one speck in the grand scheme of survival.

As the search was underway, Ajalurk-Chaidth stood in the threshold of malfunctioning doors, a product of erratic firing from those serving under him, staring down the cylinder corridor. Per the schematics, most of the corridors in this section of these freighter classes harbored such designs, few doors on the durasteel walls that led into rooms only important to engineers and mechanics; giving zero defense options. On the flip side, there would be little to no resistance opposing their progress down here in the dungeons.

 

[Rowena-022]

Location: Caera Kryze’s Boarding Craft, High Orbit of Peragus II - Peragus System
Objective:

• Board the freighter.
• Seize the beskar and prototype weapons.

Tag: Veyra Kryze Caera Kryze Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze Evangel Talysa Kast

The Captain of the Queen’s Guard called for attention not long after Rowena’s prayer. Although she was neither a Mandalorian nor a member of the Guard, the gynoid stood to attention as the Captain bade. Once the address was complete, Rowena took her position towards the middle of the formation. Unlike a Mandalorian’s beskar’gam, her Specter attire was a shroud meant to conceal her in shadow, offering little defense against a direct assault.

Rowena-022 drew her rifle then, an extended magazine loaded with controlled penetration ammunition slotted into the well. She had opted to take a carbine rather than a sniper rifle, the latter of which would have been clumsy and suboptimal within the confines of a starship’s interior.

All the while, the overhead lights bathed the bay in crimson as the hull groaned in protest. Durasteel screamed as the plasma torches sliced into the doors, before culminating in a loud blast when they finally gave way.

After seeing Caera Kryze take point, Rowena gave a soft smile, her synthetic gaze lighting up with equal parts pride and exhilaration. She watched as the Mandalorian became a whirlwind of death, her rifle spitting searing light into the security troopers’ ranks, cutting down three of them in quick succession.

Oh, how viciously she moved unto the breach!

“Yes! Truly the storm of our Dark Lady incarnate! Cut them down, oh mighty Queen’s Guard! Bring the faithless to heel!” Rowena-022 cried out, her voice a fervent, bloodthirsty hymn. All the while, the gynoid followed in the Mandalorians’ wake, carbine held ready. Her multispectrum photoreceptors scanned the area, cutting through the gloom as a scythe through grass.

"Who's feeling brave enough to flank?"

A thrill of divine purpose surged through her circuits. “By your side, sister!” Rowena-022 called out, her voice piping with zealous joy. She moved towards the catwalk, her carbine rising with lethal promise, before snapping onto a security trooper attempting to move out from cover. Two bursts tore into his armored chest, turning it into a ruined, bloody cavity!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Specter Attire System
  
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• FAE/W-12 Assault Carbine Mk. II
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Silencer
  • Ammunition
    
    • Extended Magazine - Controlled Penetration
    • Standard Magazine (4) - Controlled Penetration
    • Standard Magazine (2) - High Explosive
• Nox M-10 “Wraith”
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Nox Suppressor
  • Ammunition
    
    • Power Cell (10)
    • Gas Canister
• FAE/MDE-02-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (4)
• FAE/MDE-02-S2 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (2)
• Miniaturized Infrared Smoke Grenade (2)

 

[Caera Kryze]

She heard patterns. Angles. The sequence of deaths falling into place. Her rifle sang its metronome, again, again, again, three bursts, a pivot, two clean headshots through a thermal haze — until the charge gauge glowed warning red. She holstered it mid-stride and drew her beskad in one smooth pull. The air split with the sound of vibrating metal and human breath ending.

Then the deck trembled.

A shape filled the corridor ahead — massive, humanoid, dragging bulkhead plating as if it were paper. A droid, easily three meters tall, marked with Mandalorian sigils half-melted by blasterfire. Its photoreceptors burned crimson, a heat haze bleeding from its frame. Some defense automaton left to guard the cargo bay. It registered her bio-signature, adjusted targeting subroutines, and charged.

Caera didn't flinch.

The first blow came down like an orbital strike, the droid's vibro-mace slamming into the floor where she had been standing a breath before. Fragments of deck plating sprayed across her visor. She lunged in, beskad biting into alloy — sparks, lots of sparks. The blade wedged halfway through its arm, jammed. Her HUD flashed overload warnings.

The machine responded with mechanical precision, its free arm snapping forward, seizing her by the throat. The world inverted — she was lifted from the deck, slammed hard into the bulkhead, armor shrieking. Warnings flared crimson across her display. Air. Pain. Irrelevant.

Her voice came low, controlled, even as the steel fingers constricted. "Impressive." She braced both boots against the droid's chest and fired her wrist-mounted repulsor. The blast sent them both skidding apart, metal grinding against metal.

Caera landed on one knee, systems recalibrating, beskad torn from her grasp and sparking across the deck. The droid lurched forward, its damaged limb trailing molten fluid, mace already arcing upward for the kill.

"Predictable," she hissed, drawing her sidearm and firing point-blank into its visor. The shots ricocheted, scoring the armor but failing to penetrate. The automaton backhanded her — hard. The world blurred sideways, and she hit the deck rolling, pain sensors screaming red.

For the first time in years, Caera felt something close to exhilaration. Something primitive, electric. A thing worth killing.

Her comm crackled; static and gunfire bled through. "Captain—" she forced the word past clenched teeth, ducking another swing that tore a conduit from the ceiling. "Evangel. Heavy unit in corridor Theta-Three. I'll keep it busy."

The droid lunged again, and Caera met it head-on. She ducked beneath its swing, drove her vibroknife into the exposed joint of its knee, and twisted until coolant burst across her visor. It staggered — only a step — before slamming her against the wall once more.

Armor dented. Systems failing. But her eyes never blinked.

"Captain," she said, voice calm even as sparks rained around her, "now would be an excellent time to demonstrate the Queen's grace."

Tag - Veyra Kryze Rowena-022 Evangel Talysa Kast Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze

 

[Evangel]

Evangel moved calmly through the corridors as she tracked the various members of the boarding parties. Caera and Veyra seemed eager to move ahead. Good. Though their Captain made sure they didn't get too far ahead of the rest. No need to curtail their enthusiasm prematurely. Meanwhile, Ajalurk had an eye for the fallen -- whether himself or in others. "Material equipment only," she added in case anyone thought 'casual' meant poking hands in pockets to rummage for 'useful' items. There would be nothing that 'useful' in their pockets. Guards and soldiers wore their equipment in reach at all times; anything else was clerical and useless for taking the ship. Deeper searches would have to wait until the ship was secure.

Rowena had a zeal all her own. A religious angle to her worship. Evangel did not mind the manner in which people worshiped the Dark Lady so long as it did not impede their ability to carry out her Will effectively. If anything, such passion could be infectious and bolster morale.

The Guard did well to secure rooms as they moved into the vessel. The relative ease had Evangel on edge. Had the Mandalorians kept all their warriors on their own ship? Perhaps they'd seen this as a milk run. She might pity them if it turned out to be the case.

As they moved, however, a voice over the commlink came through. A report about a Heavy Unit that Caera was up against. Evangel signaled for those near her to stop their search of nearby areas and fall in. Was Veyra with her? Caera had used the singular, and as much faith as a commander had in those in her command a Heavy Unit hardly sounded like one or two run of the mill guards. And if they'd bothered to put that there then something important couldn't be far off.

Several moments later another signal came in. Evangel had the group fan out as they set upon Theta-Three. Evangel reached into the void around them and felt its cold bite claw its way inside. As soon as she rounded the corner, the Captain bolted down the corridor. Her feet left the deck plating and collided with the side of the 'Heavy Unit' to send it reeling the opposite direction. Droids were difficult opponents. No Force usage. But Evangel wasn't powerless against such beasts. Enough to free a dutiful Queen's Guard from a pin, at least.

"Suppressing fire. Bring out the EMPs. Destroy it!" Their Captain snapped into the open channel for the rest of the unit directed to surround and annihilate the droid. The purple visor turned to look at Caera for just a second to note the woman's state. Now wasn't the time to do more than a visual inspection. "Can you still fight?" Once the droid was dropped they could administer medical attention if necessary.

Caera Kryze | Veyra Kryze | Rowena-022 | Talysa Kast | Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze​

 

[Rowena-022]

Location: Caera Kryze’s Boarding Craft, High Orbit of Peragus II - Peragus System
Objective:

• Board the freighter.
• Seize the beskar and prototype weapons.

Tag: Veyra Kryze Caera Kryze Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze Evangel Talysa Kast

The security trooper Rowena-022 had shot moments prior crumpled, a torrent of crimson spilling from the cavernous ruin of his chest. Without breaking her stride, the gynoid leapt, synthetic myomers coiling and releasing to propel her in a powerful arc towards the catwalk several meters above. As she reached the apex of her ascent, her photoreceptors caught sight of another security trooper on the platform. Her carbine snapped onto his silhouette before discharging a burst of hypervelocity slugs towards his head. The trooper collapsed, his skull blasted apart in a mangled mess of plastoid fragments, bone, and grey matter.

Rowena landed gracefully on the catwalk, her carbine remaining locked in its place against her cheek as she held her shooting stance. A pair of security troopers emerged from the nearby passageway, only to be met with a quartet of swift, savage bursts. Hypervelocity slugs struck their armored chests and detonated internally, the frangible projectiles fragmenting into clouds of lethal dust that cavitated their thoracic cavities, shredding organs and splintering ribs into shrapnel that erupted from their backs in a mist of blood and viscera.

Below, her photoreceptors caught sight of Caera Kryze being slammed into the wall, the Mandalorian’s call for aid carrying through the team’s comms.

Rowena didn’t hesitate.

As the Captain charged the towering droid, sending it reeling, Rowena snapped her carbine onto its head. A barrage of slugs streaked from the barrel at hypervelocity speed, the projectiles blasting small craters into its armored torso as gouts of molten durasteel splattered in all directions. The droid rocked back, staggered. However, Rowena didn’t give it the opportunity to recover. Three more bursts hammered into its head and neck, tearing through sensors, wiring conduits, and hydraulics in a shower of sparks and blazing coolant. The automaton emitted a booming mechanical roar, only to be abruptly silenced as another salvo punched deeper into its compromised frame, reducing it into a sparking, shuddering wreck.

A final burst plugged directly into its central processing core finished the task. The automaton seized, then collapsed into a lifeless heap of scorched metal.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Specter Attire System
  
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• FAE/W-12 Assault Carbine Mk. II
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Silencer
  • Ammunition
    
    • Extended Magazine - Controlled Penetration
    • Standard Magazine (4) - Controlled Penetration
    • Standard Magazine (2) - High Explosive
• Nox M-10 “Wraith”
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Nox Suppressor
  • Ammunition
    
    • Power Cell (10)
    • Gas Canister
• FAE/MDE-02-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (4)
• FAE/MDE-02-S2 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (2)
• Miniaturized Infrared Smoke Grenade (2)

 

[Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze]

“And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon‘s that is dreaming.” — Edgar Allan Poe​

Tags - Veyra Kryze / Caera Kryze / Evangel / Talysa Kast / Rowena-022

Collectively, the comlinks roared to life, singing a singular chorus line for help. Those under his command halted their steps, and yet, the devil himself continued down the corridor unaware his men had stopped advancing; until only his footfalls could be heard, did he stop. "Why are you stopping," he inquired half annoyed, half angered, "My cousins can handle themselves." Without another word, he moved on till he came to the first door; pushing it open with a foot. Inside the storage room several containers in varying shapes and sizes, organized in stacks of four, had claimed this room as their own. Three seconds later, the devil was exiting the room.

"Sir, shouldn't we break open those containers to see what's inside."

"Break them open? Why? Do you wish to carry all that stuff back to the ship," the devil spat. There was no need to break the containers open and add more work to the group, besides: time schedule. Pointing to one of the container's labels he added, "We already know what's contained inside, and it's not why we are here."

The next couple of rooms were no different than the first, however, the final room before reaching the turbolifts for the next level bore fruition. It wasn't exactly what they were here for, though it would be a waste to leave all those crates of credits behind; time schedule be damned. All governments, all empires cannot thrive without financial assets, especially those that send their war machines out to eat religiously require precious credits to keep the mongrels fed. "You two," he pointed, "With me. The rest of you begin transferring those sealed crates to the ship. And do not think your greedy paws will not be punished if you plunder any of those credits. You're not stealing from me. You're not stealing from the inhabitants of this ship. You're stealing from our Queen. Remember that before acting in haste."

Spoiler: Weapons Loadout

• Ranged Weapons
  
  • Veritas et Iustitia (Dual Revolvers)
  • Widowmaker (Sniper Rifle)

 

[Talysa Kast]

​

Reforged In Shadow

Objective: Obsond with the convoy's cargo
Location: Near Paragus
Tags: Veyra Kryze | Caera Kryze | Rowena-022 | Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze | Evangel

Talysa took up rearguard as they advanced into the freighter. The Kryze sisters were a pleasure to watch as they started through the crew of the freighter. Other boardings had gone with far less need to flex their might. But other boardings were not onto ships held by Mandalorians. The fact that Talysa's loyalty now lay with the Dark Queen did nothing to diminish the admiration she had of the fighting spirit of the people she grew up amongst. The fact that they were on the wrong side of the wave that was to come was not their fault. But that would not mean that Talysa would give them mercy either. The mission would decide how she would deal with her former vod. Recruits were not the goal of this mission, which meant all opposition would be put down.

Talysa moved backwards, pacing the others. When a threat came up on their six a quick shot from her rifle put it down. There were only a couple who thought the attackers would be stupid enough not to guard their rear flank. Word must have gotten around because soon the advance was quite boring for Talysa. Then the Kryze sisters encountered the droid. Mandalorian battle droids were nothing to sneeze at, if this wasn't just some repurposed standard galactic trash that the crew had purposed as a roadblock while they could regroup.

Trusting her fellow guardswomen to dispatch the droid Talysa grabbed another invader and pointed to the far side wall with a grunt. Talysa took a knee and raised her blaster daring anyone to try to take advantage of the temporary bottleneck that the unit had encountered. She knelt steadfast and tall until the call for help rang through her helmet. Seemed like the droid was quite the opponent. Talysa growled under her breath and risked a look backwards towards the battle taking place. Then the call came for EMPs. This droid must have been something. Talysa would have wagered that others in the unit had EMPs, but she did too and she wasn't going to risk a fellow guardswoman on the assumption that the rest of the unit was prepared. "K'atini gar ser'marr," Talysa grunted as she physically put the next closest member of the unit where she had posted up.

Talysa did not wait for acceptance. If the warrior did not do what she asked then they would be dead, either by the hands of the enemy or Talysa's. As she pushed through the paused unit, Talysa shoved armored warriors aside. Finally making it to the front of the group she noted that the droid was becoming overwhelmed as more fighters joined the bout. Talysa gave a slight chuckle as she aimed her rifle at the droid and smirked as she fired the ion pulse grenade from the underbarrel launcher. By the time it had landed and had an effect on the droid, the "tiny zealot" had unleashed quite an onslaught. Talysa was now secure that the droid was done for. She turned her back to the end of the fight and returned to rear guard. "Tsikador, mhi ba'slanar," Talysa grunted at the warriors she had left in her spot.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Armor
  • Personal Beskargam
• Weapons
  • Paranaor Blaster Rifle
  • Beskad
  • Repentance Blaster Pistol
  • Vibroblade

 

[Veyra Kryze]

"Boarding Party."

Tags - Caera Kryze Evangel Rowena-022 Talysa Kast Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze

The hold still smelled of hot metal and blood. Sparks fell like angry rain as Veyra stepped over a ruined trooper, boots silent, each movement precise as a blade. The heavy unit was dead and smoking; the catwalk above burned in places where Rowena's rounds had chewed through plating. Caera was down a corridor, breathing hard, visor spider-webbed with coolant and grit. Talysa held the rear like a stone—eyes on every shadow.

Veyra didn't look for permission. Survival didn't wait for diplomacy.

She stalked to the nearest living thing: a scrubbed, wide-shouldered Mandalorian, faceplate cracked, blood leaking from a temple wound. He had the look of a looter—hands that had already been in pockets, a guilty shuffle. Veyra snagged his collar with one gloved hand and hauled him to his feet as if he weighed nothing.

"You," she said, voice low and cold, close enough that the modulator in her throat hummed through his helmet. "Where is the manifest? Where did you stow the secondary crates? Who knows the turbolift key-index?"

He spat, a wet, useless sound. "I don't—don't know codes—just orders—"

Veyra's hand tightened. The man's jaw worked; his shoulders flinched under her grip. She dragged him down the corridor until the lights painted them both violet and black. She hoped she was making a scene, Veyra enjoyed the sensation of being watched: it made the moment crystalline.

"Orders," she repeated. "Bark them. Names. Deck-numbers. Now."

When the man blinked, she struck the back of his helmet with the butt of her rifle—not hard enough to break bone, hard enough to make thought jag. He groaned and coughed air into his lungs like an animal tasting life again. He answered, jumbled: "Forward hold—secondary crates… sealed—label: 'Aegis Components'… engineering access through deck C, maintenance chute three… there's a locker behind the galley, weighted floor tile—"

"Closer." Veyra's voice was a knife. "Say it clean."

He swallowed. "A-three—Aegis Components—deck C—maintenance chute three. Locker behind galley, code 4-2-7, biometric tied to chief engineer 'Kolen'—he's on level two."

Veyra let the man breathe for a second, then pushed his helmet back with a casual, deliberate motion that revealed eyes wide and wet. She gazed into them for a long beat, letting fear build the truth into being. "You're going to open that locker and point us at everything you touched. Fail, and we'll burn the manifest from your throat." She let the last words hang, thin as wire.

He nodded, frantic. "I'll—I'll show you—turbolift—two—forward hold—follow the maintenance ducts—Kolen hides the override in the locker."

"Good." Veyra released him, but didn't let him go. "Captain, your orders?"

 

[Caera Kryze]

Smoke still clung to her like perfume. The droid's ruin steamed beside her — a twisted carcass of sparking alloy and coolant, its final shudder echoing faintly through the decking. Caera Kryze stood amid it all, one knee braced against the floor, head bowed slightly as she exhaled through her teeth.

Pain was data. She catalogued it dispassionately. Two cracked ribs, one dented pauldron, minor systems damage to the suit's internal regulator. The rest was noise. A lesser soldier might have called for medics. Caera simply stood.

She peeled her helmet away with one gloved hand, letting it fall against her thigh. Pale light from the sparking conduits cast long shadows across her face — blood on the lip, sweat at her temple, hair damp and black as oil. She did not wipe the blood away. She liked the way it caught the light. Proof that she was still human, or near enough.

"Functional," she said at last, answering Evangel's earlier question with the flat precision of a field report. "Target neutralized. Damage superficial."

Around her, the others were still recalibrating — Rowena's voice like a hymn to destruction, Talysa's ion pulse still humming in the air, Veyra's interrogation cutting through the smoke like music. The chorus of the faithful. Efficient. Brutal. Beautiful.

Caera turned her head toward Veyra's voice, her expression unreadable but her pulse betraying a flicker of something dangerous. "Always talking, little sister," she murmured, barely audible, the words shaped more by memory than breath.

The Mandalorian prisoner flinched as her gaze found him. She walked forward with mechanical grace, each step deliberate, quiet. When she stopped before him, the air seemed to contract. Her voice was calm, surgical. "He's telling the truth," she said to Veyra, eyes still locked on the man's face. "He's too frightened to invent. Fear is the most reliable confession."

Her hand shot out, seizing the prisoner's chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. "But fear fades," she whispered. Then she released him, letting him stumble back. "Keep him alive until the locker yields. After that, he's ballast."

She replaced her helmet with a slow, deliberate motion, sealing herself once more in that mirrored mask. The violet glow reignited along her armor's seams, the pulse steady, measured — the heartbeat of a machine.

"Captain," she addressed Evangel through the comms, her tone once again composed. "Your intervention was effective. The Queen's grace indeed."

Her rifle clicked into place on her arm once more. The gesture was small, but it felt ritualistic — the restoration of rhythm after interruption.

Tag - Veyra Kryze Rowena-022 Evangel Talysa Kast Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze

 

[Evangel]

Evangel dropped to the deck plating and watched as Rowena-022 dropped in with her blaster on full. Meanwhile Talysa Kast made certain the gathered Guards weren't surrounded and caught unaware by hostile forces. They worked well together and without requiring her heavy hand to instruct them on the battlefield. As it should be. They were all worthy of the Dark Lady Virelia.

When it became clear the droid was well in hand, Evangel turned her helm in Caera Kryze 's direction. The woman stood to her feet though with a slight listing that suggested something important might have been injured. Not a leg bone or spine obviously. Rib? Punctured organ? All she had to say for herself was 'Functional,' which her Captain was willing to leave it at that. If she became a liability, Evangel expected Caera to mention it so the unit was not imperiled by an inability to perform.

Veyra Kryze , meanwhile, sought to interrogate the ship's personnel. Evangel turned and slowly moved down the corridor to where Veyra stood. She'd offer compliments to the unit when they were no longer engaged in combat operations. Though the Captain hadn't gone far before Veyra hauled the man back to an more open area for a full interrogation. Saved time in closing the distance.

Even Caera managed to move in and assist her sister in the grilling. It was a good opportunity for them to hone their skills. Interrogating sentient creatures -- much like public speaking -- was a perishable skill if not properly and routinely exercised.

"Secure the material this man claims to have knowledge of. If he attempts to mislead you, or direct you into an ambush, cut off his limbs." Death was too quick. A nice, long, slow death while being utterly incapable of doing anything about it but scream should motivate them to do as they were told. They didn't have time for foolish games by someone that thought their self a hero.

Evangel stopped along side Caera. "You fought bravely. The Queen would be pleased." Her helm turned slightly in order to look at the other woman. "But you do not need to fight alone for her favor." They could discuss whether the Guard thought herself capable of defeating the droid, or had sought to spare the group worry of supporting her later. Evangel much rather they all return alive -- though she understood their desire for accomplishment during a mission. After all, Evangel herself desired them and sought the entire Guard to look for ways of fulfilling their Queen's wishes.

"Talysa, is the route back to the ship secure?" And where was Ajalurk-Chaidth Kryze ? Once the rest of the Guard was in motion, she would check in on him.

​