Taming Panatha (FO)

[FN-999]

"I am Sergeant FN-999. Fifty troopers were sent here to assist in fighting these jungle creatures, I lead ten of them. We split up at our landing point, the other groups are elsewhere." he replied quickly, used to listing things in detail.

"You must be the Rens sent here to combat the spawns. We will assist you in taking care of them." he continued, then resuming his walk toward the Sith.

As FN-999 took a look at the Rens, he realized that one of them, the woman, looked oddly familiar. Clone. He had served with clones throughout his days in the Order, and knew that they all had a very similar look. While she was a woman and likely used a different DNA template, the signs of Kaminoan cloning were still there. How the Order was able to make a Force-sensitive clone, he didn't know, but it was certainly an impressive feat.

"Where shall we go?" he asked the Rens.

[member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Despite Kyrel’s best attempt at an explanation, Varas could not shake the feeling that she might have had more in common with the sith spawn than anyone else on this mission. Still, there was an easy-to-spot resemblance between father and daughter when armor was shed. The tousled, midnight curls. The straight, symmetrical bridge of the nose. The same ruminating gaze.

Blood. Alchemy. Solvents. Metallurgy. Biology. Medicine. Chemicals.

Nothing about those things explicitly explained how the clone had come to be. Was her mother the missing property that turned her from an experiment gone wrong into a glorious chrysopoeia? More and more each day, her father did treat her as a precious piece of gold, so perhaps Tmoxin was the x-factor. And as he raised his hand to signal her to stop, she did so without blinking or hesitation.

The trooper before them in the recognizable plastoid armor indicated that an entire brigade of soldiers had been deployed along with them to eradicate the spawn. While Varas knew that the Ren held a special place among the First Order, stormtroopers were its spinal column, each of them an individual, sleek, white bone, combined to make up the sturdy back of the large military industrial complex.

“Why don’t you lead the way, soldier," the brunette clone offered.

[member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="FN-999"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

As the small unit moved out, they were going through the rear of the throne room, and all Connor did was enjoy the views. Plural. The build of the room itself was magnificent, like an optical illusion in places of grand space and design that seemed to be far bigger than it actually was. The other was the passing figure of [member="Ara Zambrano"] again, looking far more the monarch than he had ever seen or suspected to ever see again.

Her voice tapped into his head, and he cut a small half-smile, giving a slight knowing nod to acknowledge her. He wasn’t the man confused or spiteful trying to prove a point. He was Connor Harrison, here to serve and make a difference. There was respect in his movement and his nod.

Moving on through to the landing pad behind the main room, he could hear chatter coming through various open coms belonging to the troopers and those holding them. It sounded like something was kicking off, and there was an itch inside to get out and help. Did he know many of the Order around him? No, not at all, but he had to fight for something and believe in something again. And if Ara was some Queen, would that mean she was the one to serve?

”Sounds like we’re running late to a welcome party,” he mused, flexing his good hand again.

[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Zodan Osyk-Drul"]

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Kyrel could sense what was going on in Varas's head of course. She had doubted herself and wondered if she was the same thing as the monsters that perused the forest. There was nothing that Kyrel could say or do to shake this thought, and so did not bother speaking. He was proud of his daughter and only regretted that she had a Mother of course. His thoughts slightly dwelled on the past when he was Thomas.. Of his own Mother Miran... Of how on that night she had begged him not to follow the path he was on and how she was always such a kind woman. He closed his eyes for a moment and clenched his fists. Reminding himself that he had to make sacrifices for the power that he had gained throughout the years. Even if it was the chance at peace, and perhaps a family.​

​

When the troopers had approached him, he was also briefly reminded of his past life once more. As TIE Captain TN-2499, a man who had served the First Order faithfully and loyally even before becoming a servant of the dark side and opened to more wider views that concerned the galaxy outside of governments. He grew to care and respect to those who served in the Military and even though his tone was commanding and slightly intimidating, it did show the respect that he had for the Seargent before him, and before he could say anything else his loving daughter had already spoken to which he had nodded to the trooper saying. "Very good Seargent. You will be quite useful in dealing with these vermin." ​

​

As he walked he stopped, sensing something dark within the jungle rustling around within the thick brush. Suddenly a dark beast emerged, a mixture of both man and something else not entirely human, but hideous all the same as it looked like it was torn inside out, it snarled at Kyrel saliva dripping onto the ground, and then after a few moments charged at Kyrel. Kyrel calmly stood his ground, feeding on his darkness and making it his own, he activated his crimson blade momentarily and sliced the creature horizontally in two, severing him. Deactivating his saber he continued walking saying. "Let's keep moving the facility where these beasts come from can't be far behind."​

​

[member="Connor Harrison"] [member="Varas Kyrel"] @FN-999​

 

[Kier Grey]

FN-6767 "Scars"
Canthar, Panatha

The great armored steel beetle lurches forward with a crunch belching out a cloud of thick black smoke over its wake and within the beasts great hull sits FN-6767 "Scars" attentively watching through her Cupola's periscope as a large mob of Epicanthix citizens march down the street boldly towards the First Order tank. They are thrusting blaster rifles into the air and Scars even spots a tube-shaped object ubiquitous of anti-tank weapons, she'd hesitated once before on Hoth in a similar situation and been sent shooting up out of her seat onto the ice as a consequence. Activating her intercom she firmly orders "Driver, halt." Rumbling to a rhythmic halt with its tracks against the pavement, her hatch rises and swivels open before a red blaster bolt abruply slams into it, causing Scars to flinch down as a small shower of sparks rain over her helmet. "I wish they'd stop doing that." With a growl both hands rise and clasp at the handguards of a pintle-mounted Blaster Cannon on her Commander's Cupola. Some glare catches her attention in a building some several hundred meters down the road and on their axis of advance. "Gunner, contact, axis of advance, two-hundred meters, building with a slanted roof, second floor. First window from the left, sniper." The sponson mounted laser cannons grumble to life, four emerald eyes steadily intensify before a green lance shoots across space with a 'whoopmf' And the building explodes in a spectacularly bright flash littering the street with durasteel and brick. Distracting the advancing Insurgents.

With that, a satisfied smirk briefly rises in the corner's of scars' lips behind her helmets visage depressing the butterfly-shaped trigger on the blaster cannon red flashes reflect in the polarized visor. Completely silent listening to the cacophonous wail of the falling Insurgents. Only as the barrel begins to glow red hot does Scars relent and push the weapon towards the hull and the barrel rises into the air proportionately. Releasing the weapon from her grip, Scars drops back down into Justicar's rattling hull with the engine's rumbling her knees smacking into her gunner's back prompting a grunt from the Enlistedman; an adult volunteer and the kind of Stormtroopers Scars holds contempt for though not just on principle she'd had to watch as too many of them perish not just on the battlefield but the smouldering wrecks of tanks. Hatch drops down just above Scars' head. "Driver, hard left. I don't want Epicanthix all over our trackpads."

[member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="FN-999"]

 

[FN-999]

"We will get going then." he replied to the clone Ren.

Right as FN-999 was about to order his men to move, an ugly inhuman creature charged through the forest at the male Ren, but before he could give out an order to fire, the creature was cut in half by the Ren's blade. His men briefly watched in silence, not used to serving with the Sith and the extent of their abilities, before regaining focus.

"Keep your blasters ready." he ordered his men. "Be ready to fire at any moving thing, those creatures could be anywhere. Now let's depart."

Instead of getting his blaster, he grabbed out his riot baton, since there were already nine troopers with blasters and a baton could come in handy during certain situations. As he turned it on, a faint buzzing came from the baton, the noise of the electricity that would be delivered to its target apon it striking.

"Let's get going then. Men, fall in behind me." he said, walking into the unknown.

[member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]

 

[Darth Sibilus]

Drios was flanked by a handful of Imperial soldiers as he stepped off of a private shuttle onto home soil, cloaked in an ebon shroud of material to obscure his identity from any body who was there to witness. Not that there was anybody, of course as the vessel had landed deep within the Panathan jungle, causing birds to fling their fat bodies into the air with surprising speed around the clearing. He took a moment to relish in the humidity, to feel the sweat drip from his pores and congregate on his collar and in the crooks of his body. The Lord relished in fond memories of the planet for after all, it was where everything had began for the Epicanthix.

He had been sent as a gesture of good will; with the abdication of Kaine Zambrano I, the Sith Empire seemed to wish to ensure that hostilities were firmly pushed away from the two imperial nations's agendas. The Lord was here to help the Ren and First Order's soldiers to exterminate the Sithspawn, and as a Epicanthix perhaps guide one of the groups around a foreign terrain although he himself had seldom wandered these hostile lands.

Bugs frittered around his head, and he idly battered them away as they marched, his blade held firmly in his hand ready to exterminate any foul beast which dared challenge the Lord's authority as overlord of these parts. Behind them, trailed the faithful kral'in luparj, Osolobo and a kral yulan, two dangerous beasts native to these parts. They would track and decimate the sithspawn's lair.

Luckily the group hadn't landed far from the party he was set to rendezvous with, and even so the co-ordinates of Kyrel Ren and co were projected on a wrist-mounted map. Lord Aurum's troops and beasts met the Ren and Stormtroopers within a half-hour hike, and the Archduke of the Xanha introduced himself as well he could.

"Hello there, Darth Aurum of the Sith Empire, sent to provide assistance in your hunt for rogue Sithspawn in the area?" he half questioned, half stated, extending an arm in turn to three three people who seemed to be in charge of the operation. "Call me Drios."

[member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="FN-999"] [member="Varas Kyrel"]​

 

[Kier Grey]

FN-6767 "Scars"
Canthar, Panatha

Scars' opens the First Order Teamnet for Justicar's area of operations while the gray armored casket rumbles down Canthar's city streets the track pads clattle against the pavement. "All callsigns this is Ironside zero-zero-wuan, we're en route to point Zambrano, out." 'Point Zambrano' the Castle of the Dark Lord and home of this Insurgent group that was infesting the underground though that wasn't where Scars and her tank are needed. Quiet now as they move into a more subdued area of the city Scars right gauntlet reaches up over her head clasping firmly around a handle and pushing it forward releasing the commander's hatch lock before it rotates in a swivel out of the way. Gripping the Cupola with her cybernetic hand she effortlessly rises and plants her boots atop the leather-covered perch where she usually sat when the hatches were buttoned up. Zooming down the street Epicanthix citizens would watch with what Scars thought was content and sometimes even relief to see the First Order tank. "Ratchet, take the next right. Drop down a gear, I need to hear those revolutions." Scars gives the order and a little smile rises on her face too quickly fade as she grasps at the Cupola tightly to maintain her position as the tank's center of gravity and mass suddenly shifts.

[member="FN-999"] [member="Darth Aurum"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Varas Kyrel"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Kyrel’s respect was what Varas craved, and today she wasn’t disappointed. He'd doled it out quite liberally and perhaps if she kept her mouth shut and asked no more foolish questions, this trend would continue.

As the first Sith Spawn emerged from the jungle appearing like some kind of doomed phantom, the clone’s first response was wide eyed shock, but then she ignited Kyrel’s Second Lightsaber, his gift to her when she’d become adept enough to wield it, though this was the first time she’d spend a significant amount of time off of Mustafar with the weapon.

Already it thrummed and sang in her hand, oddly in a way it never had before. Once her father cleaved the beast in two, it felt strange to deactivate the saber. It wasn’t fear… there was something compelling her to talk to it in a way as though exchanging some strange language with it through the pulses of the laser sword. Morse code. As it vibrated in her hand that’s what it reminded her of. She did not de-ignite it.

As they progressed, Varas heard cannons in the distance, heralding the destruction of what had come before - Epicanthix citizens and their structures mostly. Did it really matter it’s history? Not to the brunette Disciple. All that mattered was ushering in the new by rebuilding state-of-the art facilities for the First Order and the new Queen of Panatha. Accenting the cannon noise was the buzzing of FN-999’s baton.

For some reason she could not get Mustafar off her mind, but it was not the Mustafar she had known throughout her young life. It was a doppelganger held by their enemy, the Alliance. That cannot be, she thought. Mustafar is safe now. As she concentrated her father’s saber, she realized that by holding it, she had access to some of his memories, already implanted within her brain on Kamino, but suddenly in the most lucid focus. Fascinating… it was as though watching a movie in her mind’s eye... and his excitement about what he was about to encounter filled her with a strange, dark exultation.

"Call me Drios."

At the Sith Lord’s voice, the clear memory disappeared like smoke. She nearly snarled at the newcomer, annoyed at the intrusion but composed herself quickly and in a soft alto said, “Pleased to meet you."

[member="Darth Aurum"] [member="FN-999"] [member="Kyrel Ren"]

 

[Kier Grey]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WyZ2GcdmCM[/youtube]​

FN-6767 "Scars"
Dark Lords' Castle, Panatha

Justicar lurches forward with each increasingly sharp gear change from its' driver the tank roars down the road towards the Dark Lord's castle to find it already Besieged by First Order Infantry. Scars' hands clasp at her Cupola standing proudly atop the leather chair, her eyes crane upwards as the castle draws closer with each loud clatter of their track both cybernetic spheres carefully tracking the origin of scarlet red lasers lancing from the battlements. "Ratchet, halt." Skidding along the pavement the Occupier visibly dips forward with Scars' hips pressing firmly against the Cupola for a moment before abruptly shifting back throwing her back firmly prompting an excited "Woot!" From Scars' bloodied cracked lips, which she promptly licks beneath her helmet. "Rookie, elevate thirty-degrees, axis of advance, repeating blaster nest."

All four medium laser cannons glow angrily for a moment before shrieking loudly, the battlements explode outwards littering the lower rotundas with debris right atop the religious zealots and loyalists protecting the symbol of their dark lords' power. Several Stormtroopers taking cover formerly under that guns' oppressive and relentless battering look towards the Occupier and give an appreciative cheer. Some puff of smoke flashes from the battlements and a missile whizzes towards the Occupier smashing straight into the lower hull, rocking the tank back. Scars' hands instinctively wrap around the repeating blaster mounted on Cupola, depressing it down she fires a stream of bolts towards the source on the lower rotunda. "Stay calm Ratchet, keep them in front of us. Rookie, put some heat on my lasers' target" After a brief pause the Occupier's laser cannons again rumble to life. Scars' fires short bursts calmly towards the RPG team whilst return fire peppers both the hull and earth them the Occupier, the Stormtrooper Infantry were now advancing; some derided Tanks as blaster magnets but that's where Tank Troopers thrived right in the thick of the worst punishment.

[member="Varas Kyrel"] [member="Darth Aurum"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="FN-999"]

 

[Tendra Daklan]

Location: Deep within the Panatha Jungle

Out of the fifty soldiers dispatched into this area, ten of them had been placed under the command of Tenac Ren. Disciples were not usually granted such privileges, but due to his time serving as a Stormtrooper, the field officers saw it fit to make an exception. The small squad had ventured deep into the forest, led by Tenac's own intuition, the force guiding him as he reached out to his surroundings. The planet itself felt dark to the youth, a consequence of the Sith and the power they wielded. Though the Knights of Ren strayed away from Sith teachings altogether, Tenac could feel the dark power feeding him, his senses ablaze as he stalked through the jungle.

Intent to kill. How had he not felt it before? Coming to a halt, the Stormtroopers behind him in a triangular formation quickly raised their blasters, ready to engage whatever their Ren leader had noticed. With quick and practiced movements, Tenac drew the silver hilt upon his belt, shoulder cape billowing as his body continued in a full one hundred and eighty degree spin. All of the momentum was transferred into a powerful throw, Tenac's arm arcing upwards as he released the crossguard saber from his palm.

It's blade ignited, a stable crimson beam humming violently through the air, between the Stormtrooper squad and into the trees behind them. A bestial roar then echoed out, a Kral'in Luparj emerging with a burning hot scar across it's face. The Sithspawn's size and strength alone cracked tree trunks as it moved, causing them to fall and subsequently crush a few soldiers. The Ren's weapon then returned to him, retrieved via telekinesis as his body fell into a ready stance. It was time to face this creation of the Sith.

 

[FN-999]

The jungle set FN-999 on edge, as if any crunch of a leaf could be from a creature stalking them. He wasn't like a Ren, with dark powers capable of killing dozens easily, so he relied on his men and the currently present Rens for support. What made him nervous was that he didn't know what the monsters looked like, didn't know what to expect. He saw the one that the male Ren killed, but was unsure if all of the creatures were like that and if there was more than one type of them.

A man in a Ren uniform appeared within their midst, and introduced himself as Darth Aurum, extending his hand in greetings. Putting his riot baton in his left hand, he quickly shook the Sith's hand with his right hand.

"I'm Sergeant FN-999, our squad joined the Rens in our hunt for the creatures. I assure you, they'll be turned to dust soon." he said to the man.

[member="Darth Aurum"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="FN-6767"]