Dominion Snail Smashers - BotM Dominion of Crakull

[Dagon Kaze]

Obj 3: Save Them Jedders
​

HYPERSPACE, EN ROUTE
71st PATROL RECON GROUP, GALACTIC ALLIANCE NAVY

Captain Vane and Dagon stared in silence as they observed for the hundredth time the images forwarded by Ryv from Cedric Grayson . Both were equally frustrated but for completely different reasons. She had protested strongly against the order to use the 71st Recon Group as an extraction force for two Jedi; to her - Ryv had pulled connections out of his ass and she now had to sacrifice her fellow crewmen for the lives of two Jedi who might or might not be alive. It surely was a gamble, given the massive fleet awaiting them and how stretched thin the Alliance were with the deep territory strikes into Sith space.

Dagon's frustration sourced from how slow hyperspace travel seemed, even if they had scrambled the recon group in an unrealistically short time frame. Along, well, with the fact two fellow Jedi might no longer be among the living; their sacrifice on Jakku to repel the invaders was noble but the padawan couldn't bear the thought of yet another Jedi's death. The Stygian Campaign against the Sith took enough.

<"Master Grayson, this is Dagon Kaze of the New Jedi Order. We are en route with a fleet--">

"a group, technically." she snarked underneath her breath making him frown in return.

<"--small fleet--"> he continued, she rolled her eyes. <"to aid your efforts and get you all out of there.">

"Sure we will. A thousand men for the lives of two." captain Vane muttered almost inaudibly.

The Jedi put the transmitter down on the holotable reluctantly.

"I heard that."

She curled her lips, remained silent under his glare before she erupted, "You better have!! We're being dragged into a literal massacre for the lives of two, TWO Jedi who might not even be alive!!" her rage seethed through the Force slamming into his mind. "Do you know how many men we left behind on Korriban?!? Huh?! I can assure you much more than TWO!! D--"

"I know." he snarled cutting her off. The Jedi's mind wandered to rationalize the act but what he found was drowned under a flurry of emotions.

"Do you now?! Written off as collateral, KIA, MIA, all the abbreviations you can think of to dehumanize us into numbers but Force help us if a Jedi's captured - we send the whole damn navy!" she sighed, steam rolling off her nose, shook her head and then hurried away to do what a soldier does best.

Follow orders.

The Jedi glanced at her departing figure with a leaden heart.

Mikhail Grayson Vexander Graves

Aaran Tafo Romi Jade Darth Solipsis Rebirth @okimissanyone?thoughts??

 

[Vexander Graves]

Objective 3: Break the Jedi
Rebirth | Cedric Grayson | Romi Jade | Darth Solipsis | Aaran Tafo | Dagon Kaze | Mikhail Grayson |
Equipment: Jedi Shadow Robes | The Cyan Blade | The White Dragon |

​

Vexander remained seated in the ground of the transport as it made it's way to the Gehinnom. He remained motionless, with his eyes closed for the whole trip, being extremely careful to avoid detection. Luckly for him, the ship was completely empty as it made it's way towards the Brotherhood's HQ. It was just him and the pilots of the ship.

The corellian left himself completely open to the Force while cloaking himself completely, he just was there and at the same time he wasn't. Feeling and trying to pinpoint subtle signs in a stream of darkness flowing all over the world.

For the Jedi, the Force had a perculiar representation... some saw it as an ocean, as the space, as a sun... other had more abstract ways to look at it such as giant trees or specific items tied to their communications with the Force... for Vex however, he saw the Force as the wind... a constant stream of wind that flowed all around all of them. The winds could change ways and patterns in order to give him different meanings and through time and training, he has learned to interpret those subtle movements in the wind.

At this very moment, the Force could be felt like a tempest, blowing in all directions... that represented the darkness, the disorder, the chaos... but in some specific places, he could feel pockets of calmness, like small eyes in the middle of the storm where the wind would just calm down... It was hard to track them in this harsh enviroment, but by the way things were moving over, he could sense two of those... and he was approaching them.

The bearded man holded on to those small eyes in the middle of the different storms that surrounded, and he made sure that he wouldn't give in his position to anyone through the Force... he blended in in the middle of such tempest and remained just calmned.

In the far distance, he could sense other strong pockets of air through the Force... pockets that were definetely not related to the turmoil and chaos that surrounded them... beings that connected with the Force but not like the Brotherhood of the Maw did... perhaps they were Jedi as well... He wouldn't know for the time being... but he did a mental note about them knowing that as soon as he revealed himself to the enemies that had capture his two Jedi brethren, he would reveal himself also to those other beings that were potential allies... IF they were really allies they would try to contact him... or so he thought trying to stay as positive as possible despite the fact that he was alone.

Who said this was going to be easy? It was suicide... but as a Shadow he knew that going in alone was for the best.

The ship that he where he was traveling began to hover in a same spot, and slowly it began to lower itself. The cooling mechanisms of the ship began to kick in and the ramp of the transport opened. In front of him an influx of beings began to board... and staying hidden and being careful not to touch anyone boarding... he slipped past through them... like a shadow... he was never there for them to realize that Vex had boarded the Gehinnom.

 

[Gren Blidh]

Objective 1
​

Gren stumbled back, the force from the blaster bolt enough to put him on his back heels. He looked down as the pain started to radiate in his chest, and reached a hand between the folds of his trenchcoat to feel the crisp edges of burned fabric and cauterized skin. At first, the shock of the realness of the blast seized his mind. He looked back up at his Croke body double, who only stood in the same stance smiling wryly, hand still outstretched with a blaster as smoke billowed from the tip. Then pain began to pulse through the rest of his body and threatened to bring him to his knees.

His body double was an apparition, yet somehow... it was all real. "Die," Twin Gren uttered again.

Gren remembered the rest of the words of the Croke as he fell to one knee, his leg hitting the sand with a thump. Defiantly, he reached a hand down and plunged it into the sand, squeezing it between his fingertips. It wasn't real, only his mind had made it real. Gritting his teeth through the pain as it tried to seize his body, Gren looked up towards the apparition through his eyepatch and summoned his strength. Screaming between clenched teeth, he pushed himself to his feet. Pain tore through his chest.

With a heavy hand, he tumbled forward and slapped the blaster out of the Croke's hand and once again found his grip on the apparition's neck. The blaster fired off again haphazardly, this time missing Gren.

"Wrong," Gren summoned the strength to mutter. At last, he understood, and the world was opened up to him again as a fresh new undiscovered place, like being born. "I am the only conscious being in my life."

Gren realized his chest was no longer hurting. His other hand reached down, feeling nothing but fabric where the blaster wound once was. By accepting the Croke's illusion as real, Gren had actually taken his first step in projecting one himself. He squeezed tighter around the apparition's neck, his violent fingers threatening to tear a hole through his body double's esophagus until the vision dissipated into thin air. Soon there was nothing left to grab; the neck turned to vapor between his fingertips, leaving only a writhing snail on the ground.

The smuggler raised his boot above the snail, its shadow engulfing it as he threatened to squash it. Narrowing his eyes, Gren prepared to deliver the killing blow, then stopped.

"Teach me the secrets of the Dark Side, and you'll be spared."

 

[Maestus]

Sometime later, she isn't sure how much time had passed, but Maestus awoke in a highly groggy state. She lifted her head shakily from the cold floor of the ship, and made out the images of her 2 dead Chosen. Her vision was blurry and lacked detail.

She pressed a hand to the gaping wound on her side. She could feel the cold wetness, slick with blood. When she pulled her hand back and looked at it, crimson ichor dripped from her fingers. Her head dropped to the floor as a wave of nausea overwhelmed her. She slowed her breathing, in and out. She had to clear her head, or she was going to die.

With a growl of pain, she worked to get yourself onto her back. She couldn't see it yet, but the puddle of blood beneath her was worrisome and large. One her back, she clutched the gash in her side with both her hands, and began to concentrate.

Concentration was so hard right now. It wasn't pain keeping her from being able to focus. It was blood loss and impending death. She did not know how much blood she was losing, only that if she did not act right now, she would die here. Alone and as a failure. That thought sparked a fire within.

She very much liked living, and was not prepared to be done just yet. She focused entirely on that spark of anger within herself. She fanned it, wafted the flames higher and higher. She thought of the arduous training she went through on Mustafar. The broken leg at the very beginning of her training.

She healed herself then, and dammit, she would do it again. First, she had to slow her breathing so she could concentrate on the rage and anger at being wounded. Was a quick task. The rage was ever present and simmering just below the surface. Sha tapped into it and let it unfurl.

Heat began to radiate through her body. She pulled at the Dark Side of the Force and drew it into herself. With strength of will alone, she directed the Dark Side energy into her body. Commanding it to knit her gaping side closed. She was fully aware she could not fully heal herself yet. But this would do.

As she directed, the Dark Side began to heal her side. The blood flow lessened, then trickled. Then stopped. A crude jagged seal was made, and the gash was sealed. The pain had not abated. No, she had not bothered to make the pain go away. She needed the pain to keep her sharp and focused for her next task.

Grunting and groaning, she rolled to one side. Slowly, wobbly, she stood up. Not straight, mind you. She was bent slightly, and held an arm to protect her side. But she stood. She would not die, not today.

She went to the cockpit, trailing bloody bootprints behind her. Slumping down in the captain's chair, she pulled out the datapad she had downloaded the genetic R&D info onto. Connecting it to the communication system, she went about connecting to Gehimnon up above. Once a private and secure connection was made, she transmitted all the research information she had retrieved.

Once the transmission was complete, she put the datapad back into her robes, and stood wearily. One more task, then the invasion could complete. Crakull would be theirs.

Back through the ship, and down the ramp she limped. At the bottom of the ramp, she looked towards Alkonost. She had seen her target while she was in the city. The shield generator. It had to come down.

Bolstered by her pain and the anger from being injured, Maestus limped back into Alkonost. She didn't have the strength to maintain an intense illusion this time, so she simply wrapped the Force around her and cloaked her force signature. Hopefully that would buy her enough time to do what needed done.

She had seen the shield generator in the industrial area she'd been in earlier. It would not take her long to make her way back. She was a frightful sight. Robes cut to shreds, and one side completely bloodied. She walked bent over, limping, leaning against buildings as she walked for balance.

There, she was getting closer. She could see it now, atop a building about 1 km away. As she wound her way through the city streets towards the generator, she was pondering how to go about destroying it. Getting up to it would be the first obstacle. It would require her letting the Force Stealth drop, rendering her a target. She would have to pull heavily on her strength in order to make the jump up to the generator.

Once up there, she would have to get into the meat of the generator, and shut it down. Perhaps she could short cirtcuit it and overloaded it using the Force Lightning she had just discovered. She feared she would struggle with that, not have proper control over the power just yet.

Option 2. Rip open any panels with the Dark Side and take her saber to the components. Either way, she was at the bottom of the building now. Time to focus on matters as they come.

She let the Force Stealth drop and pulled the Dark Side to her. Strengthening her body to endure this jump and climb. Clearing her mind from pain so she could focus on what needs done without distraction. One deep breath and she LEAPT into the air. Thankfully her control over the Dark Side was growing stronger everyday. She was able to jump almost 2/3 of the way up the building.

Hand over fist she began to climb. Her body screamed its rage and reluctance. As she moved and strained, the wound on her side began to seep. She couldn't allow that to distract herself. The invasion depended upon that shield generator coming down. So up she went.

As luck would have it, her ascent up to the generator had not gone unnoticed by the Croke. Maestus had been moving in a simple straight forward path to the generator. Now, she was being fired upon. Seems the Croke knew what she was going to do, and understood their survival depended on stopping her.

Thankfully, the Croke shot about as well as Stormtroopers, and she went unscathed at first. Not willing to take any unnecessary risks, she began leaping up the building. Randomly, no clear direction. Except that each jump moved her closer and closer to the shield generator up above.

Lucky shot! Fire ripped across the building, about 1.5 meters over her head. Durasteel chunks came raining down on her. A decent hunk cracked her on the side of the head. The blow sent shockwaves through out her system. Thank the Force she had a strong grip, else she would have plummeted to her death.

Leaping once. And again. Then she slithered like a spider over the roof edge. Laying in a heap for a second, she gulped in air into starving lungs. That was all the reprieve she gave herself, then she found her feet once more. The pain in her head was sharp, stabbing and relentless. She hobbled her way to the generator.

Thick heavy panels barred her entry from the sensitive bits she sought to destroy. Digging deep within, she rallied her will and the Dark Side once more. Both hands lifting up. Her palms closing tight then ripping her fists apart as she focused on the panel doors. When he wrists her flung apart, so too were the panels. Now exposed, Maestus took her saber, igniting it.

And brought it down deep into the wiring, controls and mechanisms that operated the shield generator. She was not being neat and precise. This was hack and slash, and get the job done before she died.

Sparks flew everywhere as her saber repeatedly destroyed the controls for the shield. Hearing a whistling sound building, she turned and dove for the edge of the roof. Her hands, slick with blood, could not get a grip. She slid down the side of the building, while above her an explosion roared.

The shield generator was down.

She felt such a relief, and almost gave into the sweet release of death. Then she screamed, an ugly sound that carried for many to hear. Drawing the Dark Side to her, she worked to slow her fall. Somehow, she just knew she was gonna end up with a broken leg yet again. Small price to pay for victory.

Through manipulating the Force, her descent was slowed. Landing was still going to be extremely painful, but she would survive.

Brace for impact in 3...2...1...

She landed with a massive thud in a crumpled heap. Left leg broken again. Gash on her side busted open. Blood gushing down the side of her head. She was a mess. As she lay there, she pulled out her holocom and input Darth Solipsis frequency. When he answered, he would see a broken, bloodied and battered Maestus, laying in a heap. But still alive.

Master........The shield generator.....is down.......Commence orbital strike...

She would wait to see if he had any orders for her before shutting it off. She had no time for healing anything right now, she simply needed to get moving before the fleet above let loose on the planet. She made no move to hide the pain she was in. Tears mixed with blood on her face. She held her hand to the gaping wound of her side. Doing what she could to literally hold it together.

Limping worse than before, she kept to alleys and dark shadows to make her escape from Alkonost. Thankfully, the Croke had more important things on their mind than her right now. The impending orbital strike for example.

With no resistance, she made it back to the ship. She hobbled back to the med pack she had found earlier, and collapsed on the ground. With trembling hands, she managed to get a bacta patch applied to her side. Then everything faded to black.

 

[The Messenger]

Deacon Mardok snapped out of his concentration for but a moment from the tig at his gown. His dark gaze fell before the insolent whelp who dared interrupt his focus alongside the others and the dreaded Voice of the Maw. "What!?"

"The Shields are down. Your Excellency."

"The Warlords can handle the matter. Begin short-term orbital bombardment of Alkonost. Level their defenses and ruin their city. Let this day be remembered as the end of the Croke Reach."

"Right away milord."

The servant scampered away and the Deacon's eyes shifted back toward the Jedi prisoners at their feet with a sinister smile. His hands glided over the pedestal and pressed down on a panel to bring up a small hologram of the battle for Crakull. To his delight the destroyers resumed fire on the planet and aimed for the capital of the Croke.

"Let it burn."

 

[Mikhail Grayson]

In between shots, the youth took cover reaching for his commlink. "We hear you Dagon! This is Mikhail Grayson of.. Ession. I'm with Master Grayson, boots on the ground. We are taking one of their lifts to that big station they have in orbit. We were shot down when we got too close. I advise caut.."

The sounds of blaster fire screamed over comms.

"..just don't get close to the karking thing! We think they are holding the Jedi there. If you have a way in, we'll meet you there."

He clicked off his comm and looked upward as the sky turned red. "We gotta go Uncle!"



Dagon Kaze
Cedric Grayson

 

[Eldervine]

The ground above rocked and ripped with fire and heat. Safe below, the Eldervine paused it's ravenous devouring of the Croke. Focused instead on growing. Not just themselves, but the others. Brethren, all still slumbering, waiting for the energy needed to sprout. The Eldervine absorbed all. The heat, it was a powerful source of energy. With the barrier of earth, they could channel and absorb it easily. Much too easily.

The bombardment stopped. The ground was soft.

Above the Croke reeled and tried to recover from the destruction. Redouble their defenses. Prepare to strike back. Only for the ground to open below them. The Drengir rose, ripping apart soil, rock, and building. Various sizes and shapes, of vine, bark, and thorn. Masses of these plant creatures took over everything within seconds. The Croke didn't stand a chance. In the middle of them all the Eldervine rose. They had feasted enough. Their brethren would be the next to feast.

Several stories tall the Eldervine turned their attention to the Maw.

"We thank you for freeing us. You seek death. We will bring it for you."

 

[Alars Keto]

​

The armored landspeeder took off over the landscape, maneuvering around broken earth and crumbling debris. Kryll stood on the threshold of death, embracing the wind as it harshly pounded against his unshielded frame. He stood at the front of the speeder with only the slightest grip keeping him from falling off, his adrenaline soaring and heart pumping at an accelerated rate sent him into near frenzy. He loved ever second on it.

He closed in on the frontlines as he watched building after building begin to crumble. This was the Brotherhood's legacy to the galaxy at large. Death.

His eyes scouted ahead and saw the unusual sight of two Gren Blidh fighting in the distance. The lieutenant screamed back, "Hold up! Get this lad and bring him aboard." Damn, Croke and their illusions. Which one was real and which was fake was another matter to be disputed.

 

[Cedric Grayson]

En route to big maw ship
Still slow posting. Will fix soon.

The last of the marauders fell in silence, and for that Cedric was thankful. The rest of them had been so very loud with their hooting and hollering. They exercised no discernable tactics aside from simply charging at him, or firing wildly in his direction. One of them had even managed to clip its ally right in the back.

Were he a less kind man, the Essonian likely would have laughed at that.

He gave his nephew a firm nod as he stepped aboard the lift, found himself a bit overwhelmed by the controls, and gestured for Mikhail to take over. The exile had little mind for ships, lifts, speeders, or any other forms of transportation. As the age old saying went: piloting was for droids.

"You're not wrong," he mumbled as he at least had the foresight to bring the lift back to life with the touch of a button. The engines rumbled as Cedric peered out through the viewport toward the massive ship above.

"We can't save these people," he half-whispered to himself, "But we can get information at the least, and rescue those Jedi. It might sound cold, but it's better to secure those that can make a greater difference saving thousands in the future than to die trying to rescue a few dozen people." It was the sort of calculation he would have balked at once, but now saw as little more than an unfortunate necessity. In the terms of his utilitarian sense of morality, the greatest possible good was more important than a more immediate outcome, even if working toward the former allowed the deaths of a few.

He stared down at Mikhail Grayson as he braced against one of the walls. "Take us up neveu."

Dagon Kaze

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

The Mongrel | Rebirth | Koleric​

They had come down and torn into the Croke's forces. The Mongrel took control of the turret with the help of the Chosen and the marauders. And Koleric had advanced with others to form a forward force. Zachariel himself simply fired upon various groups. He could enter the slaughter, but he wanted to wait first, to see how the Croke would react. Ah, there.

A mass of something was advancing towards them. Directing fire on them, even as some sort of fear began to spread. Zachariel simply chuckled, blowing holes into the creature, before finally hitting a Croke. It was only one of the mass, but it helped make it smaller. Keeping up that fire, the mass eventually died, just as the shield generator fell. Raising his eyes up to scan the sky and look for energy, Zachariel found little. It was all in the turrets, and said turrets were being dealt with by the Mongrel, and a lack of proper energy.

Savagely grinning, Zachariel turned towards the forest were the marauders were. Raising his sword high, Zachariel let out a roar that would be heard over the incoming orbital fire.
"CHARGE! Show them the meaning of fury, slaughter them to the last!" Turning towards the city, watching as it began to catch fire. Zachariel laughed, long and slow. He began to advance then, motioning for those who had come with him to advance as well. "Let the galaxy burn!"

The marauders rushed out of the forest at his command, many groups being led by his own Chosen. Other still by other groups, but all ultimately following his command. It made him grin with bloodthirsty delight, before he launched himself forward on his jetpack. Coming crashing down amidst a house, Zachariel set to the slaughter. This was a time of glory, advancement. Death and bloodshed. This world would burn.

 

[Mikhail Grayson]

'Thank the Ashla', the Essionian cried out in his head as the last marauder fell. With a nod from his Uncle in recognition of the impending orbital bombardment, the two made haste for the interior of the transport.

The controls were a bit on the complex side, sliced together and frankenstein'd from other vessels. Who would of knew the transport was an ugly of some form, the outside being one solid model while the interior was thrown together from many different makes of vessel. To be honest, he didn't blame his uncle once he saw the gesture he took up the pilot seat and did his best to get an idea on the controls.

"I understand..."

He contemplated the situation for but a moment before taking a handle on the controls directly.

"Alright this is going to get bumpy, fast!"

The youth slammed on the throttle and sent the vessel soaring into the air as the ground erupted in red fire from above. A streamline of smoke and exhaust followed in their wake as they rushed up to kiss the sky. So far so good, the vessel was holding together surprisingly well for an ugly. Black smoke and clouds parted as massive red bolts soon filled their view, "Oh Karking Hell!"

Weaving between the massive bolts that rained down, the Essionian yanked down on the throttle to raise them higher and higher. The ship began to shake violently as they cleared the upper atmosphere it simply stopped. In clear view, the Brotherhood of the Maw's fleet stood before them and the massive worldcraft that was Gehinnom.

"I'm bringing us in, they have some sort of guiding system. Alot of this is written in languages I don't understand. Some basic some.. strange."


Cedric Grayson
Dagon Kaze

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Aboard the world-ship
Objective: Save dem Jedders
Tags: Dagon Kaze , Romi Jade , Mikhail Grayson , Vexander Graves , Aaran Tafo

There were few things the exile despised more than flying.

On the ground, he had a sense of control. Even if things started to go awry, he had the tools required to solve whatever problems were thrown his way. That was certainly not the case in the air. He could only sit back and grip the back of his nephew's chair with white knuckles as the youth sent the ship limping toward their destination. Cedric was convinced that it was only the will of the Ashla that allowed the ugly to even get off the ground, and the fact that the turbolasers kept missing was purely a matter of luck.

Luck that was likely to run out very soon.


"Shab," he muttered as the massive fleet came into view. The handful of reports he'd received on the Hidden Maw had indicated that it was little more than a small cult with a handful of warbands making up its armed forces. It seemed those reports had either been fabricated, or woefully misinformed. "That fleet is...we'll need an army to deal with this."

He glanced over the youth's shoulder to try and get some sense of what was going on with the readouts. He could make out the basic well enough, and bits and pieces of some of the other languages sprawled across the screen, but it was mostly unintelligible. It seemed they thought he and Mikhail were part of the Maw, at least, as the ship found itself slowly guided into the heart of the fleet's world-ship.

"Okay," Cedric drew in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. "We get in, we play nice, we find these Jedi, and we book it to the next system." The exile's brow furrowed as he struggled for a proper plan. "Ah, you look like you could be one of their soldiers. Take this," he unhooked his scabbard from his belt and offered it to Mikhail, the lightsaber it contained nearly falling free of its sheathe in the process.

"As far as they know, I'll be your prisoner. Should get us to wherever our friends are."

 

[Vexander Graves]

Objective 3: Break the Jedi
Rebirth | Cedric Grayson | Romi Jade | Darth Solipsis | Aaran Tafo | Dagon Kaze | Mikhail Grayson |
Equipment: Jedi Shadow Robes | The Cyan Blade | The White Dragon |

​

All the time in the world... that is how long it took for Vex to travel around the huge mobile station... it definetely seemed like a whole planet inside... still, he just had to pay close attention to his surroundings to actually find it's way through the place... but with great care.

Still, he was kind of worried at the fact that he still had no escape plan and he wasn't sure what was happening outside the Gehinnom. He was focused in two different things and they daunting tasks to perform at the same time even for a Jedi Master: To stay hidden and to focus on the two small eyes in the middle of the storm that he perceived as the Force around him. He was getting closer with each step... and with each step he knew that things were getting even more dangerous.

The man continued, and pressed on. Battling against the negative emotions and feelings that surrounded him... eventually, the storm through the Force grew extremely wild... and Vex could feel that he was almost at the nexus of it... he was close to a chamber... close to a strong darkside power.

This was it... inside the chamber he could feel the two vacums in the Force... two bright spots in the middle of a storm... those were the ones that he was looking after... those were his brethren.

Knowing what was bound to happen, he opened the door hoping that he could actually maintain his cover... and perhaps it would give him seconds to do something inside the room before they could realize what was happening... but what Vex didn't counted for... was the fact that the strong dark energies in the inside completely knocked his tired self out of his concealment, sending a beacon of light across such darkness across everyone around and hopefully, those other blips that he held before.

"This is unfortunate..." he said with a grin in his face as he materialized in the room... in an instant, his blue eyes moved across the room and tried to see what options he had and what could happen... he didn't have much time though "...hello everyone!"

With that being said, the man took the White Dragon and threw it at the binds that were holding Romi Jade , hoping that it would break her free and then he ignited his lightsaber and jumped straight at Aaran Tafo aiming at his binds. Perhaps giving them a fighting chance.

 

[The Mongrel]

Objective: 1 (Smash Their Illusions)
Location: Crakull, streets of Alkonost
Tags: Gren Blidh , Zachariel Steelblood , Maestus , Darth Solipsis

Laserfire streamed from The Mongrel's commandeered turret, smashing through the walls that hide the Croke's generators. Duracrete dust and the burnt smell of carbon scoring filled the air, obscuring the combat that raged everywhere... but still the marauder kept firing, holding down the triggers, laughing maniacally as the world before him exploded. And then the barriers were gone, reduced to ash and fragments. The generators behind them gave way in seconds, their metal surfaces turned to slag, annihilating their delicate inner workings.

All around the perimeter of Alkonost, the phantom laserfire continued... but no one fell. Only the illusions were left, a make-believe ring of defenses, and no such deception was strong enough to hold back the raw fury of the Brotherhood. The shield over the city sputtered, then died. In answer, the fleet in orbit resumed its bombardment, and fire rained from the skies. Buildings exploded into dust, and streets were rent apart. Finally pausing in his frenzied firing, The Mongrel smiled as he watched the doom of a species truly begin.

It was a shame that the Croke were so small and fragile; it was difficult to take trophies from them. The Mongrel had his Ryyk Blade from Black Spire Outpost, and a fragment of that captured Jedi's cloak from Jakku... but what could he take to remember his victory over this place? A thought struck him, and once again a malicious smile spread across his face. His necklace of fingers and ears, taken from fellow marauders to show that he would not be cowed by them ever again, was looking a little sparse. Time to add to it.

With a scream of exaltation and fury, The Mongrel rushed alongside the others into the streets of Alkonost, ensuring that none could escape the bombardment obliterating the center of the city. He clutched his heavy blade in one hand and a life form scanner in the other, holding it up before him as he encountered each illusion. With technology on his side, it was easy to find where each Croke was hiding within whatever image it conjured... and skewer it upon the point of his sword. He gathered the tiny little corpses as he went, his idea taking form.

When this was over, he would pull their little legs off and add them to his necklace.

And it would be over soon. Though The Mongrel could not know that there was dangerous opposition to the Brotherhood in the skies above, Jedi fighting to free their comrades, it was too little and too late to save the Croke. Alkonost burned, and every other city across the planet would soon meet the same fate. With their fleets shattered and their capital destroyed, the Croke would be defenseless as the Brotherhood mopped up the rest of their planets. In only a short time, the entire Croke Reach would be nothing but a bitter, corpse-strewn memory.

 

[Gren Blidh]

Objective 1
​

The defenseless mollusk had nowhere left to retreat. With the threat of the shadow of Gren's boot looming over it, it could either accept servitude or die. It was strange that such a small creature could be so powerful with the Dark Side; the Force emanated from beings in mysterious ways. Despite his upper hand, Gren knew he could learn a lot from these creatures. They had a grasp of the Force that he was only beginning to understand. Thus, he reached a hand down and grasped the Croke in a cage between his fingertips. He would be Gren's instructor and his prisoner.

As Alars Keto approached closer, it became apparent which was the real Gren and which had been an illusion; the doppelganger had now faded completely back into the mind of the Croke. With the creature still in his hand, the smuggler stood silently as Kryll's speeder whipped up chaotic winds and soon came to a halt in front of him. Gren took up the offer for a ride and swung his legs over, propping himself with one foot on the speeder's back seat as he surveyed the smiting of Alkonost.

"Thanks," He lowered his head to Kryll, and held up his captive Croke. "A memento, for the journey."

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Obj 3: Save Them Jedders
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CRATKULL ORBIT, CLOSING ON GEHINNOM
71st PATROL RECON GROUP, GALACTIC ALLIANCE NAVY

"Got it, Mikhail, we are exiting hyperspace in a bit." Dagon replied over the comms, glancing at Captain Vane already giving orders around, "You will need to hurry up--we aren't the cavalry to take on these guys head-on for long."

The Jedi walked up to the disgruntled captain cautiously. Her earlier fiery disposition replaced with a stone-cold utilitarian persona only years of military service could mold.

She interacted with him first, "We'll be coming out to real space all guns blazing. Use the element of surprise to get you and a crew of boarders to get in there and get whoever the hell you are getting out. The time window's gonna be really, really short." Vane elaborated then furrowed her brow, "You know the stakes."

Dagon curtly nodded, the weight of responsibility of others' lives crashing atop his shoulders once more.

"May the Force be with you."

"And with you too, Captain."

--

The 71st Recon Group reverted to realspace with all guns blazing. It had no hope of defying the odds and that never was the plan. Shock and awe, give the boarders a cover to get into the Holy City and extract the VIPs.

On one of the gunships headed to Gehinnom, Dagon sought to find the center of his mind. His eyes shut and his psyche fully open to the current of the Force.

We'll all make it out of this alive. Trust Ashla.

Mikhail Grayson Vexander Graves

Aaran Tafo Romi Jade Darth Solipsis Rebirth @okimissanyone?thoughts??

 

[Mikhail Grayson]

"It's so cold. There are so many of them."

He felt the shiver down his spine intensify as they grew closer and closer. He read along the readouts with his uncle, so far so good. His uncle may have discerned more than he could but as long as they weren't shooting them down then everything was going according to plan. Swoop racing did not compare to the rush of excitement and terror he felt now.

"Roger that, be safe Dagon Kaze "

His hand brushed away from the comm link, his eyes looking over to his uncle as he detailed the rest of the rescue plan. He nodded in agreement until it came down to remaining undetected. Before he could voice his concern, as if he could read his thoughts his uncle had a solution. He grabbed a firm hold over the lightsaber and took a moment to marvel at it's beauty even covered by it's sheath.

"You really think this will work?"

He overlooked his garb and grabbed at his jacket, "I don't really think I look like a blood crazed cultist unc." His eyes widened as they came within the shadow of the worldship and slowly entered the belly of the beast. "Nevermind, you're right. Let's do this."

The vessel soared through the spacious vast tunnel entry, illuminated by sparse red lights to guide the way. Imperial designed hangars, long misused by the Brotherhood of the Maw rested on each side. "I got a bad feeling about this."

As they cleared the long tunnel they came upon the singular glorious sight of a massive city built within the dome of Gehinnom, as far as the eye could see. They made approach for the building at the center of it all, the tallest structure in the shape of a dark temple edifice.


Cedric Grayson

 

[Alars Keto]

Kryll nodded, appeased by his brother in the Maw's trophy. With a heavy hand he slapped a fellow marauder in the chest and laughed aloud. "Oy! Look at that thing. We have all this trouble over damn snails. Look here.." His eyes adjusted to the form of Gren Blidh as his voice deepened, "From now on mate, you're with me. We can make a good team, you and I."

"Breakers!"

"YEUHHH?"

"Get us inside the city, we have more snails to smash!" Kryll chuckled maniacally, his hand gripping the speeder tight as it soared off once more. "What's your story bub?!" He screamed over the roar of the craft as they approachedthe killzone, where there was more fun to be had.

 

[Cedric Grayson]

Aboard the big ship
Assist in prisoner rescure
Romi Jade , Aaran Tafo , Vexander Graves , Dagon Kaze , Darth Solipsis

"Probably." Was the best he could offer.

As far as Cedric could tell, the Brotherhood of the Maw was about as organized as your common pirate band. The forces he'd come across thus far knew little by way of tactics, and fought more as individuals than as a single cohesive unit. Whatever tied them together did so from a lax position, though they were bound together tightly in ideology if not in physicality.

Likely some sort of religious or cultural binding then. Hopefully he would come to understand the nature of their cause by simply boarding the ship, but such understanding was often illusive to outsiders. either way, it meant a relative vagrant like his nephew could quite easily pass as one of them, or at least he hoped that was the case.

The exile's brow furrowed as the lights of the hanger cast their ramshackle ship in violent crimson hues, as if to tell them that they were stepping into the very belly of the beast. The massive city that followed shortly thereafter was unexpected, and try as he might, Cedric could not keep his shock from worming its way into his voice. "I never imagined they were this organized...."

He could only continue to stare as the ship would quietly descend onto the hanger floor. Some members of the Maw wandered about the ship, momentarily curious, but mostly unconcerned.

"Who was that you spoke to on the comms Neveu?" He asked as they stepped down the gangplank. Some of those nearby paid them a bit of mind, and quickly lost interest as they noted the shock-cuffs around Cedric's wrists. One, a Nikto, stepped forward from the crowd. "Caught a wizard?" She barked a laugh, then pointed at Mikhail Grayson . "Follow me. We'll get him stowed. What's your name skinny?" She didn't wait for a reply, and took off on a brisk pace toward the heart of the city.

 

[Mikhail Grayson]

"How could something like this go unnoticed?"

In reality it wasn't hard to avoid the eyes of the galaxy at large, the Unknown Regions were just that. Unspoiled, uncharted vast swaths of space that laid beyond the Western Reaches. Navigation and charting still to this day, millenia since the Galactic Republic first started exploring it's boundaries, largely left to the imagination of all but it's denizens.

The rise of the Brotherhood was blanketed in the smoke screen that was the dark reaches from which they treaded. Raiding world after world, growing from the slaves they dragged away, the resources they stripped, and the ships they claimed as their own. The machinations and advance of their society was expertly calculated as their emergence into galactic affairs fell on deaf ears due to the ongoing conflicts throughout the galaxy.

"Dagon Kaze of the New Jedi Order. He's en route with a Galactic Alliance force coming hard and fast for the rescue. I gave them the warning to avoid the worldship.. glad I did."

His eyes scanned the horizon in awe, all this in the name of some bloodthirsty cult? There had to be more to it, how could they inspire such brutality in sheer numbers and still build such monuments?

Stepping down with his 'prisoner' in tow the youth nodded his head and did his best to play the part as his Uncle instructed. "Uhm..yeah. About killed all the boys on the wagon." He paused, his name? "Razor..Kahn. Razorkahn."

So far so good.


Cedric Grayson