Dominion The Bryn'adûl | Returning to the Fold | Dominion of Hex below Sraeljoarsk

[Galak]

Objective: B
Tags: Krarolk T'manu | Primarch Drek'ma | Keldothera | Phantrx |

Galak watched over the conflict, eyes shifting quickly between the General struggling with the heretic and the two standing in his way. He towered over them, broad and scared; baring tusks.

"Even with one eye, I can see the fear in both of you. Move." Galak growled, clenching fists.

The two moved out of his way, fearful from his small show of bravado. He was as anxious as they were, but he didn't let it show. Being an Emissary wasn't just a title - it was an earned warning not to stand in his way. Galak had been trained in more ways than one by Tathra. He recalled how the lessons of combat could also be applied to life.

Sometimes in the heat of battle, one must make a tough decision, but Tathra said the longer you let it wait the tougher it gets. That was the part he always struggled with, instant action. Galak took the pulveriser from his hip and fired a single shot right into Fertesa's head.

Almost instantly, the Grenadier Tenabrak collapsed.

"This is what happens to ALL true tenabrak!"

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Four
Objective: B
Tags: Ostak Cl'mana | Sethrak | Keldothera | Galak | Primarch Drek'ma | Krarolk T'manu | Phantrx |

The elevator continued upward to the command deck, coming to a slow stop as the two individuals standing within its confines remained silent. He let out a low sigh, his posture softening slightly before breathing in. He raised himself up as the mechanical instruments of the two doorways opened in unison, revealing the rather fully occupied command deck. He recognised first the two who did not belong.

The overseer, Ostak and the Warlock. They had been both been part of the crew that had been sent to speak with the Shipmaster; perhaps Kol'beld had chosen the Warlock because of their significance to himself, but he couldn't know. He was not surprised to see the Tachael-Vemnak had found its way to the side of the Shipmaster. They were nothing if not tenacious and cunning. There he stood, heavy rings around his eyes with a wild gaze directed at Kol, he watched and enjoyed as the Shipmaster twitched uncomfortably. Now at least, he knew a small degree of the pain and discomfort he'd caused for him.

This was how societies truly died, from the inside. Unravelling slowly but by the time one catches on, its far too late. He hoped this was indeed the opposite, he hoped he was catching it before it was too late.

"Chieftain, it is m-" Kol began to speak.

"No." He spoke, already tired of the shipmaster and the impending grovelling. What those aboard the command deck did not know, was that he had been listening the entire journey, as were other higher ranking members of the Tachael. They were proud of Ostak, and disgusted by the weakness exuding from the Shipmaster.

Tathra and his honour guard exited the elevator, the low hum of its descent the only sound to fill the room aside from footsteps of the artificer officers carrying a chair, placing it adjacent to Kol's. Tathra gestured with his free hand to Vertask for her to stand beside Sethrak and the others. The feeling in the room was enough to choke on, Kol held onto every moment, every look.

"You are done talking. You will announce that you and the Fractured Axe's crew are returning home. You will return to your duties, and this will be done." He did not wish to hear from this... vermin.

But the words of Sethrak and Ostak had convinced him to show mercy.

The answer was a nod. Tathra sighed in relief, standing up from the seat and with a nod to Ostak; moved to leave.

As shipmaster Kol'beld moved to make use of the ship-wide communications suite, Tathra's own communication stone embedded in his gauntlet began to pulse. Tathra raised his left gauntlet, answering the call.

//Base located on local asteroid located in your system, HERETIC group lead by Shaman Gallan has bioweapon warheads//

The private communication sent a shiver down the Titan's spine, his relief crushed in seconds as his arm fell to his side. Another... no. His tired eyes drew wide, he may have been old, weary - but he was no fool. This, had all been a distraction - a deception. Without a word, Tathra turned to Kol'beld, murder in his eyes.

"This, all of it has been a distraction!" He roared, stomping over with thundering steps and with a savage strike of his left hand, knocking the Shipmaster down to the ground.

"Tenabrak, you think me a fool?" He was insulted, pride intertwined with rage meant sheer bloodlust.

Tathra turned to the controls, activating the already prepared ship-wide communication.

"Those aboard this ship, heed my words. Set aside your doubt, cast out the true heretics among you. Or meet the same fate as your Shipmaster..." He let the communication keep going, allowing those who were listening to hear the sound of the Shipmaster struggling underneath his boot.

He began to apply pressure. It wasn't long before Kol realised what was happening, what was happening to him. He squirmed, screamed - as much as he could. More pressure now, the skull bulged and creaked and in the blink of an eye as the shipmaster cried in pain his head exploded all across the command deck floor.

Tathra ended the communication. Looking to Kol'belds second in command; "This is your ship now, prepare for combat. We have somewhere we need to be."

 

[Sethrak]

Ostak Cl'mana Tathra Khaeus

Sethrak flinched. He had been ready to intercept the Titan's fist, but something had caused hesitation. The swift Warlock had frozen before he could save the shipmaster. Time and time again he had dodged blows as if he was a magnet to their weapon, outrun foes like a four-legged beast racing a Hutt, and yet he froze before he could keep his word. Now, the shipmaster's steaming brains were on the cool metal floor.

The Warlock didn't know what to do. He had every intention of saving the shipmaster...confronting Tathra...but now, now he felt cowardice. He was no coward. He didn't run when his ribs were shattered and infected Bryn attacked him. He didn't hide when the battle on Yurb turned against the Bryn'Adûl. But now, he felt a sickness creeping up his chest and spine. His hands shook involuntarily, and his heartbeat was double its' normal pulse.

He could barely move, as if he was in a lake of hardening carbonite. He moved his eyes to Tathra. He looked the Titan in the eye, mentally he yelled at him. Why had he killed one that had realized his failures? He had not strengthened his kin. He had slaughtered them. Quickly Sethrak realized that the order to cast out heretics would apply to the entire ship. The leader of the Bryn'adûl had just ordered half of the patrol to be slaughtered for being afraid. For following orders. This was no leader, this was not a Titan. This was a fool afraid to lose his own creation.

Sethrak knew he needed to act somehow and save the crew. But how? He was being bombarded mentally, the fear resonated from the crew as they realized what was about to happen. He tried to cut them off but he couldn't. There were too many of them. It was comparable to a colony of insects suddenly being stomped on by a mighty foot. The chaos, the fear, the confusion. The comparison was ironic as the Titan -no- Tathra had slammed his booted foot on the shipmaster's head.

The Warlock tried harder only to fail. He could not block the flood of emotions, nor could he summon the words he needed.

Then he remembered something he had learned not long ago. He had summoned fire after failing again and again. He only had success when he used his anger. He needed to embrace the fear and use it. He let the emotions through the dam in his mind, embracing the scolding waters of fear as they covered his mind. Adrenaline flooded his thick veins, coursing through his powerful body.

He was still shaking, but the carbonite-like feeling was gone. He could move and he could think. He locked eyes with Tathra, staring into the golden-orange abyss. He saw anger. It was hotter than the lava of Mustafar. More volatile than a shard from a Bryn gun. Sethrak recognized the anger. It was no stranger to him; he had that anger in him. It was the rage of someone that believed in something, only to see it buckle under pressure. Sethrak had tasted the feeling when he questioned Tathra not so long ago. It was the rage that allowed him to melt and shatter a rock with fire, conjured from the Force. It was a reminder that all Drael were created from Tathra. Would Tathra recognize the rage in Sethrak's eyes as his own? Would he realize that the men he was having killed, were his people? Or would he block it out...see it as a threat to his reign just as he had feared this small mutiny?

The Warlock wouldn't wait to find out.

"Tathra!" The Warlock shouted "Why would you do that? Why would you slaughter your own brethren? Do you not know that their fear was your fear? In killing him, you have sealed your fate. You have solidified the thoughts of those that doubt you. You have shown them that you do not care for their lives. That shipmaster's error was no different than your failure to secure victory at Yurb. It was no worse than your defeat to the infection at Ylesia. You didn't read his dying thoughts. I felt his confusion as you crushed him, moments after sparing him. He was betrayed, not you. I am telling you now, as the Warlock that saved your life....spare the crew. Fear is natural. How you react to it is what defines you."

He had sealed his own fate. Tathra would never trust him again. He may even decide to kill him here and now, but it would be worth it if he even considered Sethrak's words. If the crew was spared then perhaps no further mutinies would appear. If they were killed, The soldiers of the Bryn would never serve Tathra again. He would show them that he did not value them. He did not respect them. He did not understand them.....and they would show him that he does not command them.

Sethrak waited for Tathra's reaction, ready to defend himself if needed.

 

[Primarch Drek'ma]

Objective: B
Post: Five
Tags: Galak | Keldothera | Phantrx | Tathra Khaeus |

He was genuinely surprised when Galak killed the heretic, but it halted the beginnings of the arguments among the crowd. The silence was quickly overtaken by the sound of the communication calling across the ship, the muffled sounds of the Shipmaster struggling sent a shiver down his spine as the Chieftain spoke over the sounds of the Shipmasters dying pained groans.

The entire mess hall listened in disturbed silence as Tathra announced a simple order. A call for the true heretics, the ring-leaders to be set aside. Now was the time for the Primarch to speak.

"Do not let fear cloud your judgement, those like Fertesa are the REAL heretics. Stand aside from those who whisper fearful words in your minds." The Primarch used his telepathic abilities, singling out those he could.

But it didn't take much, whether it was fear of Tathra or duty bound belief, the crowd began to seperate into groups. Fingers were pointed, weapons were drawn as particular members were singled out as Tenabrak. Of course, these accusations would have to be vetted, but it was a start.

Though it seemed indeed they had a more pressing matter at hand.

 

[Ostak Cl'mana]

Post: VI
Objective: B
Equipment: Ceremonial Shaman robes
Tags: Sethrak | Tathra Khaeus

Ostak flinched as the Titan brought his foot down on the Shipmaster's skull.
​

As it seemed, the vows of protection offered by the Shaman and the Warlock had expired before the pair could even engage in more than a sentence of conversation. The action unsettled the Overseer within Ostak - if the Titan was unwilling to listen to his underlings, then would he be unable to listen to tradition as well? Even Chieftain Tathra was not above the authority of the Overseer Council - though it could very well shake the very foundations of the Draelvasier species, the Titan could be tried for heresy and executed.

Yet the Overseer found a small piece of justification for the Titan's actions. Him and the Warlock had offered the Shipmaster protection until he could reach an audience with the Chieftain, and regardless of how brief their discussion was, an audience had been secured. Consequently, their protection no longer applied. Still, the brutal actions of the Titan unsettled him. But before he could respond as the Warlock soon performed with passion, he felt a heat source growing in his right leg.

Its origin was the small Tachael-Vemnak communication stone that Ostak kept hidden in a bottom pocket of his robes, and its growing heat indicated an incoming message. Ostak would not forget the Titan's actions, but he would wait to deal with him until the more immediate concern was settled.

"In agreement with the Warlock, your haste was unsettling, Chieftain." stated Ostak. "With its Shipmaster gone in such a brutal fashion, the vessel will surely be consumed by riots. At the very least, a formal execution would have been in better taste."

With those concluding words, Ostak silently turned around and left the room, fighting the desire to sprint out of the doomed vessel as rapidly as his legs allowed. He walked about twenty meters down the hallway before turning onto a secluded corner, pulling out his stone with the Tachael-Vemnak symbol carved upon it.

[Overseer Ostak, this is Overseer Ullon. A patrol group has detected a large group of heretics on an asteroid near my jurisdiction. Since you are the next closest Overseer to the target, I request your assistance in joining your Enforcers with mine to keep this operation swift and out of public view.]

[Overseer Ullon, this is Overseer Ostak. I understand your request and will arrive with a task force as soon as possible. Keep in mind, this might take several hours.]

Ostak disabled his communication stone and hid it back in his pocket, assuming his alias as a Shaman Beast Master once more. As he continued towards the ship's docking bay and determined which of his Enforcers to join him in his operation, a thought lingered in his head.

Despite his violations of order and tradition, perhaps the Shipmaster did not deserve to perish as he did.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Post: Five
Objective: B
Tags: Primarch Drek'ma | Galak | Sethrak | Keldothera | Ostak Cl'mana | Phantrx |

Tathra did little more than listen to the outrage, but he had no energy nor interest to contest it. What he had done, was indeed an act of rage. But it was a necessary one, if they didn't understand he did not care. He did not have the energy to care.

He had no words, no real reasoning nor a wish to explain. There would be no riots, they were wrong; those aboard the ship knew what chaos would bring, and that was their own deaths. The 10th Regiment would enforce law, order under his behest lead by Galak. That aside, they were to head for the asteroid already, as soon as he returned to the Divine Brutality they would be off.

He sneered disapprovingly at the Warlock, walking past him and back to the elevator. Soon enough he and the Honour Guard were heading back toward his personal craft. The surroundings were a blur of motion till he reached his chair, half collapsing into it as he rubbed at his eye socket; settling into a hunched and poor postured position.

He wanted to sleep.

He felt old.