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Dominion The Swirling Depths | CIS & The Enclave



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T H E
M Y S T E R Y


The hour had been late on Kestri when the Quartermaster had received reports of a mysterious station in the middle of known space, a jump away from the Enclave's post on Roon. Normally matters such as these would be of no concern of the Enclave's. With the rebuilding on Kestri, their slow but determined vow to erase the Sith in the same kind as the Sith had tried to erase them, and of course most of the Enclave's fighting force be occupied with patrolling the lawless reaches of the Confederacy, the Enclave had very little resources that could be spared to investigate non-important matters.

But, this anomaly was not the only one of its kind. Others like it had appeared across the galaxy, and rumors had it that it led to a separate, habitable dimension. Whispers said that this was more than an alternate reality -- but instead, the realm of the afterlife, where souls that passed from the physical plane went to dwell. And if that were the case, then it would be very much in the Enclave's best interest to investigate this hypergate.

To that end, a small team of warriors had been chosen from among those the Enclave could afford to spare, and trust to perform adequately enough within the parameters they had been given. The orders were simple: travel to the station, figure out if there was anything on the other side, and if there was, figure out what it was.

And of course, not die in the process.

 


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I N V E S T I G A T E

Objective: Investigate the Stargate
Tag: OPEN

Swirls of blue surrounded the CVT-48 Outlander-class Starfighter as it travelled through hyperspace. The irregular coordinates had been provided from the Roon post, which Siv had conveniently been stopped over at when the communication had come from a secure HoloNet transmission. Quartermaster had lined up a new operation, to investigate a sort of peculiar station just outside of Kamino space. The travel wasn't long, but Siv still wasn't sure exactly what was going on -- only that there would be others joining him.

Suddenly without warning, the proximity alarm went off. Subdrives flared, and Siv began to flick at controls to see what was the matter. The ship's interdiction countermeasure systems had apparently detected an obstruction along the route that had been planned, and auto-engaged the sublight systems to pull the starcraft out of hyperspace. Siv sighed as he unlocked the steering controls from their autopilot position, and watched as the blue swirls faded to a black-specked-with-white starfield.

It didn't take long to see what was the matter -- a whole blockade of ships, Confederate by their make. Siv hadn't ever encountered a full Confederacy fleet, but he'd seen enough of their starships on patrol to recognize them when they were in front of his face. He engaged defensive systems and primed offensive systems, but kept them marked as offline. Technically, he worked for the Confederacy, and so chances were -- hopefully -- that they would let him through whatever defenses they'd established.

He couldn't help but wonder why all these defenses were necessary, though. Whatever they were guarding, this supposed derelict station, had to be of some greater importance than he or the Enclave realized.



 
SHIP’S COM to All: ⌁ Confederate Fleet, this is the Echoy’la Sun. Please stand down your weapons. ⌁

Even as the
Echoy’la Sun dropped out of Hyper, Jhira was on the COM. Calm, cool, professional, despite the muffled terror gripping her. It was never a good thing to have an enemy … err. A strange fleet in close proximity to her family. She not been warned of the blockade, and was suddenly unsure if the strange alliance between Confederacy and Enclave yet held. Nerves jangling, raw, the Captain had deliberately broadcast in the clear, hoping those who had sponsored her presence were somewhere near by.

Even with her family at risk, Jhira was fundamentally incapable of breaking their cover if the Enclave representatives wanted to remain invisible. Another long look at the readouts did not lower her blood pressure. No matter how she calculated the odds, her chances of breaking back into Hyperspace if the Federalies decided to open fire was not good.

Still, her ship had a couple of surprises hidden away … especially if she prepped her fighter squadron now. And maybe, just maybe, that CVT-48 Outlander-class Starfighter on her sensors would be on her side, since the Federalies were aiming at him, too.


SHIP’S COM to All: ⌁ We’re carrying supplies, gear and a few specialists for the Expedition. Please advise upon approach path. Sending credentials … now. ⌁

As always, Jhira held her breath whenever using anything approaching official documentation.

Or talking to officials. Or … well. Dealing with outsiders.

For so long, the only safety had lain in secrecy, so even now her ship’s registration was as obscure as credits, chance and friends could make it. Hopefully they’d believe the benign, simple story told there and grant her clearance.

If not … that added to the small but real chance her contact had not, in fact, been authorized to ask her for assistance. She held her breath, but no one started firing. A victory for diplomacy, or a clever ploy on their part? Quietly, she murmured orders to her crew.

Just in case.

But surely the Enclave was here, somewhere, and would allow at least a small shuttle through. Despite the tension, Jhira’s gaze was drawn again and again to both the real-space location of this strange anomaly, and the insane readouts her own sensors provided.

The chance to explore a place which might just hold the secrets of the undead scourge which had caused so much anguish had drawn her inexorably. Knowledge was power, yes. But it was also peace and closure. She told herself firmly that her own lost loved ones had joined with the Manda of her Clan, and could not be held in such a place.

She would believe that.

She had to.
 
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CIS SPACE
OUTSIDE THE NETHERWORLD
HIGH MARSHAL VERIN OLDO
[OPEN] [ Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel Siv Dragr Siv Dragr

The usual chatter of the bridge was cold today. These types of away missions rarely enjoyed a level of excitement worth writing home about and so the majority of the organic crew found little to occupy themselves. They were alert but with such a substantial fleet presence, somebody somewhere would spot a target coming a parsec off. The two Lucrehulk alone would detect any incoming craft in good time. Fleet Marshal Konn called into the bridge of the Al'raja, the Line's flagship.

"All quiet on the time, sir."

As it should be, mused Oldo. He didn't expect anything to come out of the gate.

A transponder blurted into life, its cry squealing out across the main bridge concourse. Countless crew jumped into action, their droid counterparts whirring and beginning to process what was necessary to protect the behemoth Battlecruiser from harm.

"Stand by" Oldo spoke, the Line no doubt echoing his thoughts across their component craft. It was an impressive sight, the assembled Lines of the Bassadro Sector Armada and he was their new CO. He relished the chance to serve like this.

A heavy frigate, 1/7th of the size of the Al'raja, had burst into view and was hailing the fleet on a clear-wide channel. Oldo listened in and made motions with his fingers on the display screens, reading as much as he could about the incoming craft. The credentials chattered on the screen and were analysed by the various systems afforded the NAVCOM, various databases that allowed them to see just who they were dealing with.

He had seen enough.

"Identified vessel, this is High Marshal Oldo of the Confederate Navy. You have entered a restricted militarized zone and I must ask you to stand down. We are launching fighter escorts. Please retain this channel for exclusive communication as we ascertain your appearance here today."

He paused.

"And don't be rash, for Hoth's sake."


513th Heavy Attack Line-Talay, Balis-Baurgh, Dantooine

  • x1 Victator-class Battlecruiser
  • CNS Al’raja
  • x2 Grievous-class Star Destroyers
  • CNS Exigent
  • CNS Carrhae White

  • x2 Argente-class Assault Cruisers
    • CNS Last Disciple
    • CNS Shadowrun
  • x4 Murkhana-class Escort Frigates
    • CNS Aspis
    • CNS Cannae
    • CNS Utica
    • CNS Capua
  • x6 Terrus-class Flak Frigates
    • CNS Pedestal
    • CNS Aevala
    • CNS Sundark
    • CNS Alisandor
    • CNS Dantooine
    • CNS Garang
538th Carrier Line
  • x1 Lucrehulk III-class Supercarrier
    • CNS Vanguard
  • x2 Argente-class Assault Cruisers
    • CNS Ambush
    • CNS Triumph
  • x4 Murkhana-class Escort Frigates
    • CNS Arun
    • CNS Protectorate
    • CNS Vigilance
    • CNS Empress

539th Carrier Line
  • x1 Lucrehulk III-class Supercarrier
    • CNS Defendant
  • x2 Argente-class Assault Cruisers
    • CNS Steadfast
    • CNS Intercept
  • x4 Murkhana-class Escort Frigates
    • CNS Excellence
    • CNS Brazen
    • CNS Exchange
    • CNS Abrion

Air Superiority Line 578
  • x1 Grievous-class Star Destroyer
    • CNS Dauntless
  • x2 Raxus-class Assault Carriers
    • CNS Fortress
    • CNS Redoubt
  • x4 Terrus-class Flak Corvettes
    • CNS Havoc
    • CNS Gold
    • CNS Escape
    • CNS Battle
  • x6 Miraj-class Heavy Assault Dropships
    • CNS Siege
    • CNS Ransom
    • CNS Devil
    • CNS Unyielding

Air Superiority Line 579
  • x1 Grievous-class Star Destroyer
    • CNS Viceroy
  • x2 Raxus-class Assault Carriers
    • CNS Terror
    • CNS Lessu
  • x4 Terrus-class Flak Corvettes
    • CNS Theed
    • CNS Malvern
    • CNS Ra’Katha
    • CNS Hotspur
  • x6 Miraj-class Heavy Assault Dropships
    • CNS Commodore
    • CNS Encounter
    • CNS Serendipity
    • CNS Peacemaker
 
Kale Onara had been en-route to an Enclave outpost for refit after a few supply runs for other outposts on the Outer Rim when he got a burst message about a new mission. Hearing about this anomaly suddenly popping up within relatively close proximity to the Enclave outpost on Roon was concerning to say the least. Kale had immediately altered his course for this mysterious station.

That had been 12 hours ago...

He was now in the pilot's seat of his modified YT-2000 freighter, the Beskar Kal or "Iron Sword" translated in Galactic Basic. He was running a few preparation system checks he normally did when he was about to enter into a new engagement when his proximity warning sensors went off. Apparently, there was a large gravity mass and he was on a collision course. Instinctively, he tightened his shoulder harness and prepared to engaged his shields and weapon systems as his ship automatically dropped out of hyperspace.

His scanners lit up with what appeared to be a fleet of warships as well as two other ships a little ways away from the fleet. One ship was a CVT-48 Outlander class starfighter that he recognized as Siv Dragr's ship and another was identified as a Gurrcat 9600 series Heavy Frigate. He recognized the blockading fleet as those from the Confederacy.

So not enemies but not necessarily friends... Kale thought to himself. He activated his sensor jammers and minimized his electronic signature. Once he was in full stealth mode, he sent a single short focused ping to Siv letting him know that Kale was in the area. Siv and Kale had been in several engagements together so if Siv made a play, Kale had his back. He thought about doing the same for the Heavy Frigate but he had no idea who it was so for now it was best to just see how the situation developed with that one. Not even at the station yet and this situation had already became very interesting very quick. He activated his passive sensors to see what else he might be picking up, including any comm chatter. Well now it was time to sit back, wait and see how this situation was going to play itself out...

TAG: OPEN
 
[OPEN] [ Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Verin Oldo Verin Oldo Kale Onara Kale Onara ]

Mia’s voice, soft and distressed, floated across the bridge in a quiet, “H-O-L-Y Sithlord on toast. Oh, frag, frack. Is that a …” the eighteen year old fiddled with her sensors, but no matter what she did, the situation just got worse and worse. “That is one of the new Grievous-class star destroyers. I don’t think we can get past her armor …

Jhira closed her eyes, and counted to three under her breath, praying for patience. “
Mia. Jherel. Zir. We are not going to fight the CIS Navy.” For a number of reasons obvious at thirty-five, that would be incompressible at either Mia’s eighteen or Zir’s twenty-two. There was one reason they’d understand, though. “If there was one beat up, rusty bucket of bolts at this blockade, we still would not shoot at it, becuase the friends who invited us here have to live with those people. What we are going to do, if things go pear shaped, is run.”

Even as she spoke, a brilliant kaleidoscope of new signals began to light up all over her boards. Some had been sheilded by she shear mass of the Star Destroyer, others may well have been cloaked or simply overlooked. Still, it felt like thousands of star fighters, frigates and cruisers erupting into existence all around her, as the full might of the Bassadro Sector Armada made itself known.

She reckoned that they couldn't get more than a hundred or so launched and/or into range instantly, though. The rest would take a minute or two, surely. A small spurt of shear, martial jealousy hit; those ships were just friggin’ beautiful.

To say nothing of that exquisite Flag Ship.


There are enough guns on the Al'raja alone to target every square meter of our ship, individually.” A shudder ran through her, at the thought of how much it would hurt, to sense that kind of damage through her Motion Interface Package.

Jhira’s ship might, possibly, have had a chance of running far enough, fast enough to break back into hyper space against either of the two (count’em, two) Grievous-class ships - they were notoriously slow, for a Star Destroyer. But the
Victator class battle-cruiser was another matter, altogether.

Al’raja.

It felt like Jhira ought to know that name, the meaning of it, at least. Desperate for any information which might give her an edge, she was torn from deeper research by the welcome sound of a sane voice in command of all that glorious fire power. Especially given the glitchy read-outs from some of her ships more sensitive equipment. Finding and dedicating the communication channel as requested, Jhira replied in the same cool, calming voice she’d perfected over the years. That others worry about eradicating every trace of her heritage, or her Rim-world upbringing from their voice. Jhira had focused on projecting calm.

Notably, she did not encrypt, squelch, or hide her own transmission - she still desperately hoped someone who knew why she was here would be willing to vouch for her to the CIS officials.

SHIP’S COM to The Al’raja.: ⌁
Greetings, High Marshal Oldo. This is Captain Mereel, Commanding. We will keep this channel open for your communications, and are standing down our weaponry ... now.

Perfectly synced through her neural interface with the ship, the safeties clicked on. One by one, the green glow of readiness turning to the lurid crimson of helplessness as her weapons were locked down.

The seconds ticked by.

No one fired, yet.

High Marshall Oldo. Now that name, she knew. He’d been in the thick of a number of large -scale engagements, lately. Which meant the Confederacy was either terrified of what lay behind the anomaly, or seriously invested in protecting it.

The delicately accented, outer-rim lilt took on a warmer tone, even as Jhira’s gaze sought out an analysis of just who had been sent to escort them - and where. Were they going to escort her … or board her?

SHIP’S COM to The Al’raja.: ⌁
Hoth has seen enough war, Admiral. We were only responding to a request for Warriors and scholars to help investigate the anomaly.

Just not a request from the Confederacy.


Despite how carefully and diligently Mia watched her scanners, she had no notion whatsoever that a second Enclave ship and entered the system.
 


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I N V E S T I G A T E

Objective: Investigate the Stargate
Tag: Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel | Kale Onara Kale Onara | Verin Oldo Verin Oldo

Siv's scanner emitted several pings as other Enclave starships reverted out of hyperspace in proximity to it. He recognized the signature of Onara's ship, a warrior who'd fought alongside Siv in multiple instances on Kestri. A good candidate for whatever they would be facing in the beyond. The other though, he didn't recognize, and it seemed that they didn't recognize anyone either. Gone were the times when he knew every face at the Enclave, he found himself thinking again for the second time that week.

He was growing irate with whoever was in command of the Confederate blockade. Technically, Siv was a part of Confederate law enforcement as a Karjr, and he didn't need a fethin' fighter escort to keep him from attacking the Confederacy. He knew not to bite the hand that fed him, and besides, the Confederacy fed him very well. He had no wish to antagonize them even in the slightest.

He flicked a switch to enter the already-established comm channel, entering the frequeny between the unknown Mandalorian ship and what appeared to be the flagship of the blockade, the CNS Al'raja. "Al'raja, this is Karjr Siv Dragr, Confederacy Law Enforcement, and so are my companions. We should have clearance to enter the stargate." Technically Law Enforcement was outside of the Confederacy's military chain-of-command; something that was helpful in keeping the Enclave's warriors from being surprise conscripted. But it also meant that he had to deal with these technicalities with the rank and file, which was oft tedious and a waste of time.


 
Well-Known Member
Talohn had arrived out of hyperspace in the Crimson Wolf just in time to pick up a whole lot of comm chatter coming from his enclave companions and, as the large object warning he got while in hypersapce made him suspect.....A CIS fleet. He had guessed this would be the case in the first place. The CIS, much like any sane governments. does not like it when literal hell portals manifest from the beyond. It wouldn't be easy to get through them, likely a bunch of credential trading. Talohn sighs, pressing a button on his ship's dashboard. It was time to identify himself, lest he gets some scratches on his ship's hull. Or worse.

Ship's Comms to ALL: "Talohn Atar of House Verd here. Sorry for being a bit late." A nervous chuckle is heard over the mic. "Just alerting you to my presence. I'm not going in myself, but I am droppin a few people off. I'm not exactly sure of formal regulations and government code here, so I'm gonna let my fellow karjr handle this. By the way, if you haven't eaten, stop by my ship for some snacks or something. Fighting on an empty stomach is suicidal." He says, his words directed to his fellow mandos. Though if a few random CIS folk stopped for donuts, he wouldn't turn them away. Typical Talohn, he wanted to feed everyone. How did he end up killing people as an occupation? He dropped the name of house verd, but he didn't expect it to do much. But perhaps hearing the name of the house belonging to the former vicelord would calm down these government sorts.

While waiting for things to progress, he turns about to make his way into the living room area. "You sure about this, kid?" He questions Leea pandec. He'd spent all night making some durasteel armor for her to wear, similar in looks to mandalorian armor, but not beskar. He's in his own armor just in case he needs to enter, but it isn't a risk he's willing to initially take. It would be irresponsible of him to do so. Monari doesn't deserve to lose another parent. He takes the helmet that he's currently holding under his arm, and holds it out to Leea. "Put this on, protect your head." The helmet was genuine beskar. Talohn would bend the rules for Leea, just this once.

Meanwhile, Madlad was sitting back on the couch, cleaning it's favorite shotgun. It's eerie voice speaks up to Monari. "Are you sure about this, child? Is your need to delve into the pits of hell so immense?" It questions, the lense cover slowly shrinking over it's single eye as if to squint. Madlad would be joining her to make sure she got out.

Madlad Armaments:

M-8 Shotgun
HP-001
M-3 MAAWS Recoilless Rifle
M-18 Pit Viper
Blue lightsaber

Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel Kale Onara Kale Onara Verin Oldo Verin Oldo
 
Objective: Investigate Anomalous Portal
Allies: Talohn Atar Talohn Atar Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel Kale Onara Kale Onara
Uncertain: Verin Oldo Verin Oldo

Leea had been blissfully unaware of the situation between the Confederacy and the Mandalorian groups, focusing more on the effort of preparation. The Mirialan cinched an armguard into place as she forced herself to breathe slowly. She had felt something, there had been an experience she could not fully explain. Starting not too long ago, she had found her mind invaded by strange visions and nightmares. Her sleep was disturbed, her meditation shattered, by sudden and inexplicable pains or emotions. Though she it was unknown to her, these occurrences had occurred when the portals opened. Since then, there had been a calling; a dread image implanted in her mind. The visage of some great maw of fluoresent and evershifting colours. Her trainer had warned her about the possibilities of opening oneself to the Force, becoming vulnerable to entities and phenomenon that might overwhelm the senses and indeed sanity itself. Perhaps this was an example of such, but she could not know. Leea knew only one thing, the land hidden beyond this tear in reality beckoned. As a moth to the light, she had come to a source of this strangeness.

She did not know what to expect, what could be on the other side. Does anyone know what is beyond the anomaly? Could it be hell, or something else? New questions arose from these, branching off and forming new and more sinister thoughts. Leea knew she had to control herself, just as before any other battle, she needed focus and absolute control. So she turned to her armor, the plating and durasteel hard and weighted. The heaviness forced her mind to think just a little harder than normal to move and rotate, usually a dangerous thing for combat. But this was a different sort of battlefield than she had ever visited and there was no telling what sorts of beings or enemies might await them.

She had just finished running through her customary preparatory movements and setting as Talohn arrived from the cockpit. His voice betrayed concern, and Leea knew he meant well. The armor alone evidenced his desire to protect her, despite his protestations when she had initially suggested volunteering for the exploratory team. "About as sure as I can be..." Leea lifted her rifle, checking the sights and ensuring that they were properly calibrated. She couldn't guess whether there would be a fight, and if there were how close or far the enemy might be. Mid-range settings will have to do, with on the fly adjustments as necessary. She laid the weapon down on a worktable in the corner before stepping over to Talohn. She accepted the preferred helm with both hands, reverently holding it for a moment. She bounced it slightly in her palms, expecting something so resilient to be heavier. As if all else was not proof enough of the Mandalorian's concern for her, this was the surest sign possible. Leea barely suppressed a touch of softness from entering into her voice as she spoke with trained solumnity, "Thank you. I'll be sure to bring it back." It lasted only a few moments, containing herself no longer, Leea grinned and swooped in to catch Talohn in an embrace, the helmet still firmly gripped in one hand.

Releasing her friend from the hug, Leea glanced over to the droid, acting more casual than she might have ever expected an artificial being to be capable of. His question returned her to the disturbing thoughts and Leea could not help but feel some somberness weave its way into her answer, "If hell is what calls, then I go." She glanced between Madlad and Talohn as she asked, uncertainty tinging her voice, "Do you think it is actually hell? Are we certain this stuff will work on the other side?" She gestured broadly to the armor she bore and the weapon that awaited its master. Durasteel, Beskar, and everything else seemed so lackluster when put int he context of a trip into the supernatural. What could they hope to do?
 
CIS SPACE
BLOCKADE
Talohn Atar Talohn Atar Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel Kale Onara Kale Onara Leea Pandac Leea Pandac

Verin had little time for these interlopers. He was a career professional, not some bounty hunter for hire. The Confederacy had taken to utilising them as occasional law enforcement and this had given them an inflated sense of ego. He knew no matter what bravado they displayed today, they hadn’t a singular hope in Hoth of getting passed the Fleet alive. He always wondered why certain individuals when faced with authority or overwhelming odds opted for foolishness.

“This is the Al’raja. This is a military operation, designated under the Lord Commander of the Knights Obsidian. You are not authorised to enter this area. Be advised.”

Oldo sighed, flicking through the data output on his console. They were a ragtag bunch of Mandalorians, vying for a semblance of worth and purpose in a fractious existence.

Mandalore.

Their ancient home-world, scene of so much of the galaxy’s ancient history played out for all to see. And here they were, clinging to their old way, demanding something for nothing just because.

Just because.

A flicker of colour on the graphic display alerted his focus. It was a designation ping, routinely updated.

Looks like somebody has been in touch with the Minister.

Oldo sighed yet again. Kiff Brayde Kiff Brayde was the type to pull all sorts of bantha-covered hi-jinks, especially when it came to the protection of classified secret military installations.

“Dragr, this is High Marshal Oldo again. Your merry band have clearance to approach the gate. Your ship identifications have been stored and logged for security purposes. There is a thirty standard minute contact window-each thirty minutes we will need this code broadcast.”

He flicked the screen again, transmitting the codes.

“If we do not receive them, we will assume you are compromised and take action to protect the system from whatever threat has claimed your lives. This is not a request. Standard military and Law Enforcement procedure. Need I send over the edicts?”

He smirked to himself. He hated dealing with these mercenary types. He slurred with an ironic and disdainful tone.

“Safe flying, Karjr.”

He closed the line and stood, watching the large display screen ahead of him, the full might of the fleet spread across its view port.
 
Kale listened to the radio chatter and decided that since they were being given authorization to proceed, he would come out of hiding. He disengaged his sensor jammers and activated all of his ship's systems. He inwardly smirked at the idea of seeing some tactical officer on that flagship being startled by his sudden appearance as he entered formation next to Siv's starfighter. Since appeared to have the authority to get us through the blockade and onto their objective, it was prudent to let him lead. As he came alongside Siv's fighter, Kale gave Siv a small wave, "Here we are again Siv. We always do seem to run into each other on crazy missions like this." He said with a chuckle, "As always, I got your back ner vod."
 
POLITICAL REGION: CIS SPACE
LOCATION: Outside of a Nether Realm Stargate, at the CIS 513th Attack Line’s Blockade.
Objective: survive diplomacy, investigate the Stargate
TAGS: [OPEN] [ Siv Dragr Siv Dragr ] [ Talohn Atar Talohn Atar ] [ Leea Pandac Leea Pandac ] [ @ Verin Oldo ] [ Kale Onara Kale Onara ]

Mia did her job swiftly, running constant scan updates, and adding unhelpful things like, “
Gee, I wonder if they have a mine ship, wouldn’t that suck?” or “Their fleet line up would really benefit from a dedicated missile class,” to her low-voiced commentary.

It was only necessary to really attend when swear words slipped into Mia’s vocabulary, so for now the Captain watched the approaching fighter escort. “
Jherel, they may decide to board us. Secure the children and elders in the Safe Room. Get our angry Protocol Droid to scan CIS laws, and tuck away anything they might consider contraband before you join them. Stay with them until we determine how this meeting will go.”

The glower was like a laser sight focused upon the small of he back; she didn’t even have to look up to know it was there. However much Jherel approved of their contingency plans from the cool distance of a tactical exercise, he hated it in reality. It was their instinct to stand together. Sometimes, she thought that was the core instinct of what made a Mandalorian.

Heh. If you don’t like those orders, you can scrounge up a side party and greet whatever visiting dignitary is chosen to inspect us.” Given their brief, brutal naval history, that was enough to send the Warrior off of the bridge in studied silence.

The Ship’s COM chimed, and the hoped-for rescue came … from one Siv Dragr. Kajir Siv Dragr, Confederacy Law Enforcement, claiming them as one of his own, and asserting their right to be here.

He’s one of us!” Zir cried out. Meaning Mando’ad, of course.

What Star Gate?” Mia squeaked, swearing softly at the sensor distortion caused by the vast Fleet.

The name rocked Captain Jhira’s stoic calm and a razor sharp smile flashed. “
The Traat’aliit’alor (Squad leader) was at Albion.”

An
Adder Class Assault Corvette just hypered in behind us! Oh, look at how light on her feet she is, and hasn’t sacrif—” Mia’s hadn’t finished speaking before the COM chimed again, and no one was prepared for what they heard.

The Corvette’s cheerful, nervous and young-sounding helmsman addressed them all. At length.

Jhira closed her eyes and shuddered at the thought of what the ConFed navy would make of the young Talohn Atar of House Verd. Of what any regular Navy Admiral would make of that introduction. She didn’t even have time to be shocked about the idea of a House surviving, due to the invitation to snacks.

Snacks (or something.)

Oh, Stars. Torn between delight in the irreverent young man and embarrassment over how she expected the career Navy-types to respond, she speared Mia with her gaze and firmly said, “
You are not going over to tea until after the exploration teams have launched and you have been relieved of your post. You will take enough supplies with you to replace what you consume, including air and water. We have a much larger life support reservoir than any corvette class.”

The tone of the High Marshall’s next COM confirmed her gut reaction, and things went down hill from there. The moment he declared they were not authorized to approach the classified (What?) Stargate, Jhira cut all forward thrust, slowing the maneuver that had had her matching velocity with the assigned Escort ships, just in case he was going to banish them at once, before the anticipated boarding and inspecting.

As far as the Captain was concerned, the Brassado Sector Navy was heavily enough armed to deny access to anyone they so chose, and she was not going to argue about it. Though apparently if she had been of a mind to, the correct person was the Lord Commander of the Knights Obsidian. Whoever that was. Turning, Captain Jhira signaled Zir to research that organization, too.

As Information Officer this watch, the task of researching each faction, organization, ship class, name and crew member fast enough to pass on critical information to the Captain was Zir’s job, and he simply wasn’t as fast or good at it as he should be. A flicker of sweat dripped down the Zabrak warrior’s neck, and he scowled at at his communications array, hands dancing across the inputs. Always a bit resentful of bridge duty, utterly contemptuous of those positions not directly involved in combat, he had struggled with her rule that every single adult of her family would learn to be competent at each bridge position. For the first time, it mattered that he wasn’t, and he knew it.

A second COM signal from the Al’raja arrived, the information from the High Marshall a surprise to all on board the Echoyl’a Sun. The Captain visibly winced at both the High Marshall’s phrasing, and his tone of voice. Hopefully her crew would assume it was reaction to the logging of her IDs, not the contempt. She shouldn’t care what a regular Navy Admiral thought of her ship and crew, but it was hard not to admire a fighting man with the record High Marshall Oldo held.

Clearly, someone who knew what was going on had reached out to the right person. And now, right now, Zir was learning why her rule existed … and why a COM channel could be every inch the weapon that a phasor was. The Captain looked away, satisfied. He would not let them down a second time.

Mia captured the critical codes transmitted by the High Marshall, and locked the information not only into the Echoy’la Sun’s systems, but Jhira’s Beskar’gam, Just in case.

The mere fact that 30-minute checks were required, and the implication that the Fleet would absolutely destroy anything coming out of there without those IDs, filled Jhira with a new sort of dread. Ought she to send her people home, and get a ride out of here with someone else, if they survived?

SHIP’S COM to The Al’raja.:
Thank you, High Marshall.”

Whether or not the sudden appearance of a stealthed ship terrified the Tactical Officer aboard the Al’Raja, he succeeded in making Mia yelp loudly enough to be heard over the COMs, and leapt back for her consoles, the occasional Huttesse swear word now appearing in her rant until. Though some of it was awed; that ship had hidden spectacularly well.

The Captain keyed the COM off for her, and nodded satisfaction. She recognized this voice, too. “
That’s Kale Onara. He’s good; he’s very good.” A moment’s thought as to what came next followed; perhaps a change of plans? Standing up from her position at the helm, she signaled Jherel it was time to return to the Bridge. Her next few COMs went out on an open frequency, though they were each tagged to their recipient.

SHIP’S COM to The Al’raja.:
Thank you, High Marshall; Will Comply.” That part was protocol; it was simple, it was easy. Because if she and her Vode did die in there, and anything came pouring out of this strange Star Gate, he and his fleet would be the only things between this corner of the galaxy and death.

SHIP’S COM to The
Crimson Wolf.: Well met, Talohn Atar of House Verd. Thank you for the invitation. Some of my crew would be happy to join you briefly for a meal … though perhaps a not here.”

SHIP’S COM to the
CVT-48 Outlander Class Starfighter:: Karjr Dragr.” There was a brief, satisfied pause after. He wore the title well. Is there room in that giant Starfighter for more than one, Traat’aliit’alor? It might be best to have the Echoy’la Sun and The Crimson Wolf. hyper out as soon as we debark. We have room aboard, if anyone else has dependents in the area that won’t be going in with us.

SHIP’S COM to the Beskar’Kal:
Karjr Onara, it’s good to hunt with you again. Again, a sense of satisfaction rested in the title.

Mere minutes later - far too soon, as far as the Captain was concerned - Captain Jhira Mereel was fully kitted up, and ready to face the unknown.
 


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I N V E S T I G A T E

Objective: Investigate the Hypergate
Tag: Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel | Talohn Atar Talohn Atar | Leea Pandac Leea Pandac | Kale Onara Kale Onara


"And yours," Siv replied to Onara, as amiable as the veteran bounty hunter could be, before the prattle of the Confederate High Marshal interrupted them both.

Siv sighed, his jaw clenched tight as he accepted the High Marshal's terms without verbal complaint. He was in no position to negotiate, and resigned to collecting the devices at the stargate. At least they were being let through; and once they were in, they didn't need to worry about a pompous officer who had nothing better to do than guard a single space station.

"CVT-48 Outlander-class Starfighter, you are cleared to dock in Bay 13-B," a robotic voice -- likely a droid -- said over the open communication line. Siv inputted the coordinates to his nav computer and began to accelerate his craft finally, the docking bay outlined squarely on the console. He knew that for some reason, starship technology did not work in this alternate reality. They'd have to leave their ships here, and pray that there was no tampering; thankfully, a Karjr's ship was well insured against any sort of a sabotage, a habit of the trade.

Mereel's voice came over his comms again, the spunky young warrior he'd met on Abrion Major who'd apparently been chosen for this mission as well. Someone at Tor Valum must've been impressed by her performance. "Starfighters don't work beyond the hypergate," he responded brusquely. "I'll be parking my ship at the docking bay -- they'll probably give you clearance, too, though it's up to you."

In contrast to the hypergate's decrepit appearance, inside the station was bright and clean, even if its architecture was a significant departure from the traditional style Siv had come to be familiar with in Confederate operations. The Outlander settled down onto the surface, exhaust hissing from vents as its landing gear extended. There was very little cabin room in the fighter, but still it meant that Siv didn't have to leap out of the cockpit itself like some hotshot fighter pilot just to disembark. He instead walked down the ships landing ramp, cape swirling behind him as he looked and waited for the other Mandalorians to land.



 

Alex Eldar

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A

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TAG: Siv Dragr Siv Dragr | Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel | Talohn Atar Talohn Atar | Kale Onara Kale Onara | Leea Pandac Leea Pandac

Foolish old man.

As the Oya'karir sped through space, Lex sat fuming behind the controls. For some reason, Vren Rook Vren Rook thought she would be the best pic to send on a recon mission.
"Go annoy Dragr for me, would ya? There's a good girl." the senile Mando'ade had said. Reeve Bralor Reeve Bralor had warned her about the crazy, buy'ce-less gunslinger, yet she had fallen prey to the lunatic musings.

Yet, the man was some kind of legend, however crazy he was, so she relented.

And here she was, speeding to some kind of anomaly.

Emerging from hyperspace, Lex flipped some codes Rook had given her as she hailed the blockade.
"This is Alex Eldar, accompanying fellow Enclave members on orders from the Quartermaster, requesting to dock the station." she said in her gravelly voice.
"ENCL-G10 Oya'karir-class Light Gunship, you are clear to dock in Bay 13-B." a droid said.
"Yes, Sir." she said sarcastically as she made her way to the derelict.

The Oya'karir's vents hissed as it settled into the hangar bay. Settling her buy'ce on her head, she waited for the HUD to flash to life, before disembarking into the hangar.

spotting a fellow Mando'ade, she walked over to him.
"Alex Eldar, foundling based on Roon. Karjr Rook sent me in his stead. What we dealing with, Vod?" her gruff voice asked through the helmet as she stood square in front of Siv Dragr Siv Dragr , whom she had not met yet.


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Talohn could hear the comms from the cockpit. It seems they have been given permission to go in. Part of him hoped they would say no and they'd get to turn around, but it seems whatever forces out there wanted Leea to experience this place. At least Madlad would be with her. As the girl swoops in for an embrace, he returns it with a toothy smile, that hint of worry in his eyes. When the embrace ends, the cathar ruffles her hair. "I don't care about the helmet. Make sure you come back. Yea?" He raises a brow, eyes meeting hers. "Don't make me delve into literal hell. Monari won't be happy." Monari was currently back at the new Atar residence on Valum. He wasn't going to bring his kid near a literal hell portal. He looks her blaster rifle over. "Hm...doesn't cover all the bases." He heads off towards the armory, and soon returns with a gun of some sort. Relatively short, but it looks like quite the hunt of metal. He holds it out to her. "This is the mule. 10 guage slugthrower, for close range. Has a kick, but whatever is in front of you will either be dead or on death's door when you use it. I guarantee. The rifle you've got is good for mid range, but you need some stopping power. We don't know how big the things in there get." Once she takes the weapon, his hand reaches out to pat her shoulder. "I'm gonna fly us in for drop off now." He then heads off to the cockpit.

The ship gently whirred as the thrusters started up lightly again, pushing them towards the station for a docking. Talohn speaks over the comms to everyone present. "Going in to dock." He states simply It's not long before the Adder class vessel lands upon the surface, landing gear extending as it produces a cloud of steam from the vents.

Once the ship lands, Madlad speaks up. "Here's out stop, kid. Stay close to me, don't do anything rash." For once, the droid seemed hesitant. It seemed even Madlad was vulnerable to the fear of the unknown. The droid was geared up with holsters all over. The HP-001 and the pit viper on it's hips. The recoilless rifle was in a holster on it's back, the M-8 shotgun was slung over it's left shoulder, hanging at the right side to be pulled up hastily should the need arise. The lightsaber was hidden in one of the droid's wrist compartments. Overall, the droid was armed to the teeth. The droid gestures for Leea to follow as it heads down the extending boarding ramp.

As the two head off, Talohn will stand at the edge of the ramp. He gives a gentle wave, the concern obvious in his features. He was prepared to dive into hell to get the two back should it be needed. But the internal conflict was in his mind. Should he? Was it responsible with a child to care for? Only time will tell.

Alex Eldar Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel Kale Onara Kale Onara Verin Oldo Verin Oldo Leea Pandac Leea Pandac The Quartermaster The Quartermaster
 


P E N S I V E
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Tag: Siv Dragr Siv Dragr | Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel | Verin Oldo Verin Oldo | Kale Onara Kale Onara | Talohn Atar Talohn Atar | Leea Pandac Leea Pandac | Alex Eldar
Objective: Within the Netherworld

It's like trying to catch smoke. Remembering this place. I've been here but everything is different.

How had she gotten here? Why was she here? Those were the questions that would be asked once her presence was discovered, which she was making no attempt to hide. She had come because she had been told to - not by the CIS or the Enclave, but by another. Why? Because there was closure to be found in the Nether.

And yet she stood motionless, cemented in place by the memories of this realm. Those moments withstood the test of time and were as haunting as ever. Her skin crawled and the scars on her body ached as though there were fresh and not long since healed.

Vanya remembered it all - the pain, the torment, her death. She had been taken, bled dry and murdered. And when Vahl breathed life back into her body, retrieving her from the clutches of those that had seen to her demise, months had passed, and yet now it felt like only days since all that happened.

Perhaps each person experienced time differently within the Nether. Perhaps it was her own memories playing tricks. Whatever it was, she was stronger than her suffering. And she would not allow it to make her weak. Not then. Not now.

Not ever.

 
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POLITICAL REGION: CIS SPACE
LOCATION: Outside of a Nether Realm Stargate, at the CIS 513th Attack Line’s Blockade.
Objective: survive diplomacy, investigate the Stargate
TAGS: [OPEN] [ Verin Oldo Verin Oldo ] [ Kale Onara Kale Onara [ Vanya Aklin Vanya Aklin ]

[ Talohn Atar Talohn Atar ] Captain Jhira heard the relay of docking instructions, but did not request such permission for the
Echoy’la Sun; only for herself. Anything the entire Basado Sector Navy needed to blockade was not something she wanted her dependents near. She’d thought this a scientific mission, and had brought her experts with her … but no, she was not about to let any of them through a hyper-gate beyond which technology functioned in an unpredictable manner. A few swift orders had sent her ship to rendezvous with the Crimson Wolf, with plans to convince Talohn Atar to take a small hyper jump out of the system before the kids started talking tech.

Jhira floated through the empty vacuum of space with graceful, carefully controlled movements and precisely calculated thrust from both her jet pack, and her gravity belt. Aiming at Docking Bay 13-A, she did a full body pivot and transitioned seamlessly from weightless to full gravity precisely as she slipped through the endless wonder of the plasma docking bay shield. From the outside, she’d scarcely expected structural integrity, let alone a bright, clean space station.

[ Siv Dragr Siv Dragr ] Walking towards the beautifully designed fighter, Jhira was in time to see Siv make an entrance. She grinned, suspecting it was a thing with him. And she couldn't deny it was effective leadership; the swirling cape, the back lighting. It only made it that much more effective, that she’d him in action, and knew that his Beskar was not just for show.

[ Alex Eldar ]An armor set she did not know moved to meet the Traat’aliit’alor (squad leader). A Foundling from Roon? That introduction left Jhira with more questions than answers, but those details could all wait until (or if) they survived what was to come. Only after Siv had addressed the direct, practical question would Jhira introduce herself with a simple, “
Well met, Alex. I’m Jhira Mereel.”

The other-worldly station irresistibly drew Jhira’s attention. She ran every sensor over it, seeking some sort of answers. The difference between the interior and exterior of the station baffled her. Had time stopped, in here? Truthfully, Jhira had expected some sort of temple or archeological site. Something that made sense of the rumors that the dead dwelled here. Even as the others gathered, Jhira focused her mind upon their mission, and the first readouts from her sensors.

[ Madlad Madlad ] [ Leea Pandac Leea Pandac ] Suppressing a shiver, Jhira turned her attention to the Adder-class ship docking nearby. A Droid whose model Jhira could not place, and another young lady moved towards them. Beskar helm, plastic armor. The Droid was well enough armed for a whole squad, so Jhira set her tactical computer to keep an eye upon the most lightly armored of those present. Again, Jhira introduced herself in concise terms. They had to be able to address each other without confusion, once the violence started.

And she was certain there would be violence.





GEAR


MISCELLANEOUS


CYBERNETICS:
  • Motion Interface Package. (Buy upgrade Shuklaar Krydol)
  • Due to unique Navigational challenges, Jhira has a heavily encrypted and enhanced cybernetic mod (eye and neural implant) that includes: Sensor Suite for navigation, Locator beacon, and GPS system for tracking her own movements or finding places. Holorecorder can record/display/transmit what is happening around her, with or without her HUD display over laid. All of this help merely means she can often … sometimes? … back trace her steps. And discretely trigger her Locator Beacon after a capture, so that she is guided back to the ship.


ARMOR:
Heavy Beskar-gam that is fully vacuum sealable, with life support for several hours. Likewise, all of her gear is made to function in Vacuum / no G / low G / settings as well as aboard ship or on planet. She can breathe / function underwater but with some handicaps. Very high G worlds / lava can also leave her at a disadvantage.



HELMET

CUIRASS:

WAIST:


ARMS/GAUNTLETS/VAMBRACES

LEGS/FEET
  • Magnogrip boots that can be toggled on/off.
  • Small, concealed slug thrower - no electronic or heat signature (right). (Buy upgrade)
  • hidden stealth dagger (left).
  • compass in boot heel.
  • hidden storage in other for smuggling data chips, ID, etc.

RIFLES and HEAVY WEAPONS:

DC-15A Blaster Riffle, with stun setting slung beside Jet Pack. Keyed magnetic tether to keep it from being lost if she drops it or is disarmed while flying. The Rifle is tied into her Motion Interface Package for range finding/heat signatures/sighting.

PS-Particle Shotgun, fastened below and beside her Blaster Rifle. Keyed magnetic tether to keep it from being lost if she drops it or is disarmed while flying. The Rifle is tied into her Motion Interface Package for range finding/heat signatures/sighting.

This short-ranged weapon fires six shots per canister. Jhira carries four canisters at her waist, behind her belt pouch.

PR-1 Ravager, Heavy Particle Repeater, is on the opposite side. This heavy weapon has powerful recoil, and Jhira has paired it with a small construction droid. When Jhira deploys the weapon, the dedicated assistant drops down to form a gyroscopic support (as the droid heavy weapons did in the Clone Wars). Old tech, and slower than a shoulder shot or even a traditional tripod, the platform none-the-less gives her a a fairly decent first shot, and allows her to lay down suppression fire from kneeling, not prone. In addition, she uses her built in Mechanic’s Tools for much more stable and precise grip than can normally be maintained even in powered armor. This heavy weapon is tied into her Motion Interface Package for range finding/heat signatures/sighting, also improving her targeting if she fires in short, controlled bursts.


GRENADES:
  • 7 Armor Piercing, meant for vehicles, not personnel.
  • 3 Ion, meant for Droids.
  • 1 Sticky, meant to hold people in place.
  • 1 Concussion, meant to knock people down.
  • 1 Smoke, meant to create cover. (Buy Upgrade, see below)
  • 1 Stun, meant to stun, not kill.
(need to make ThermoSmoke meant to create cover - thermosmoke, to fool heat sensors and filled with white noise, for fooling the sensors in every Mando’s helmet.)
 
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Ah, yes. The shotgun. Leea recalled this particular weapon, being a staple of Talon's personal arsenal that tended to find its way into combat, whether on the Cathar or his droid. Accustomed to utilizing a variety of weapons, the Mirialan was confident she could wield the powerful firearm. Yet, she was not entirely fond of the mule's recoil, a cumbersome affair that stood as a testament to Leea's incapability in brute physical strength. Nonetheless, a weapon with such stopping power, particularly at close range, was not unwelcome. Her hands gripped the weapon tightly as she accepted it from Talohn, sliding it into a holster at her hip for ease of use. Leea slung the rifle over her shoulder, expecting to not have it there for too long.

"Thank you. I promise not to die, and I'll try to make it back in one piece," the pilot smiled a little as she continued, endeavouring in some little way to lighten the darker mood taking hold, "no promises about the droid though. I don't think I can carry him back out he tries something foolish."

This is the hardest part, Leea contemplated as she waited for the ship to dock. Sitting on a couch, Madlad busily preparing some weapon for combat, and without Monari or Talohn to engage in more thought-provoking, or just plain distracting, conversations, the green-skinned near-human found herself wandering within her consciousness. Not able to do anything, just anticipate. Imagine what can be. Her mind strayed to the past, projecting the terrors of battles long gone into the future. The trenches of Azennel VI, the cavalry charges on metal beasts in the forests of Felucia, but perhaps above all else, she thought of the skirmishes on Iego. The 'demon' infested crevasses had been a true nightmare. The natives, technically named Maelibus, but locally nicknamed 'devils' or 'demons,' had been horrifyingly effective in culling the armed aggressors. What is beyond the gate? Will there be hordes of demons? Is it really hell? What if there is something worse?

She broke these thoughts, realizing the downward spiral in these initial ruminations. Don't get in your head. Stay sharp, but relax. Be mindful of the present. Dwell not on the past. Calling upon the little tidbits of meditation training she had received, Leea focused her mind and found some measure of peace. This continued until the gentle dip of the ship conveyed the conclusion of landing protocols. With a final deep breath, Leea stood and nodded to the droid in preparation for their departure. "Don't worry, I won't be." I haven't survived this long by being rash on the battlefield.

She followed after the hulking droid, jingling with all the weapons clinking against its hardened plating. Leea turned after a few steps towards a group forming of what appeared to be mandalorians, she assumed this was the away team. She returned a final wave to Talohn, promising herself she wouldn't let him down.

Then, as if her mind had flicked a switch, the Mirialan turned and her thoughts returned to the group of Mandos preparing for embarkation. They all seemed to have introduced themselves to each other and were getting ready for the actual work ahead. It felt a little nostalgic, being the odd one out in a group of military types. Deciding on a quick and simple introduction, she motioned to herself and her droid companion, "Leea Pandac, Madlad, from Talohn Atar. Looking forward to working with you lot."

Alex Eldar Talohn Atar Talohn Atar Verin Oldo Verin Oldo Kale Onara Kale Onara Vanya Aklin Vanya Aklin Siv Dragr Siv Dragr Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel The Quartermaster The Quartermaster
 
Kale brought his YT-2000 freighter into the docking bay and landed near Siv's fighter. As he shut everything down and activated the security systems, he spoke to his R5 unit Rascal, "Keep an eye on the place." Rascal gave an affirmative beep as Kale made his way to the loading ramp. He didn't have to give the security of his ship a second thought. As much of a pain in the sheb'ika the droid was, Rascal knew his business when it came to protecting the Beskar'Kal. Before opening it, he checked and re-checked his armor, weapons and equipment. For this mission, Kale started by picking the grenades he was going to take with him. Kale decided to load with four grenades, two fragmentation grenades and two thermal detonators. He then began looking at what weapons he was going to go with. Kale chose his two custom DH-17 blasters, his vibroknife that he stowed in a custom sheath in his right boot, his vibrosword which would be attached to sheath that allowed for a cross draw on his left hip. He also tucked his holdout blaster in a holster in his left boot. He finished off his weapon ensemble with his most prized weapon, the Brumal Dawn. A particularly devastating freezing weapon that he had effectively used in the past not to just destroy the enemy, but deplete their morale in short order. After all, who would want to get hit by ultra-cold blaster bolts made of frozen liquid carbon that not only caused the target to freeze internally but also shatter when subsequent ballistic force hit said frozen body? That was why he loved hitting a target with two to three bolts. The first would freeze the target almost instantly, the following rounds would shatter them. A great weapon, no doubt.

He slung the rifle over his back and opened the loading ramp. Stepping down from his ship, Kale spotted the group gathering around Siv near his fighter. As Kale made his way toward the group, the loading ramp automatically closed and locked into place. He nodded to every one of his fellow vod as they watched him approach. Kale took a subtle look around the interior of the station recording everything for any analysis that might be needed later as he waited to see how this mission was going to start.
 
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The droid, despite standing at a height of 6'2, was quite slender. Much like the older KX-series security droids. Though height is around where the similarities ended. Unlike the KX droids with their elongated limbs, Madlad was perfectly proportionate. Very humanoid in it's looks. In terms of bodily design, the droid's structured resembles that of an HK unit, though the limbs are meant to be much more flexible, and move in a much more lifelike way. Even the way it paces towards them seems a bit too natural for comfort. It's fingers, long and dexterous, idly straighten out the cloak it's wearing about it's shoulders as it approaches. The wearing of humanoid accessories also distinguished it from most droids. Despite looking light, the metal clanging as it's feet touches the ground rings the familiar chime of beskar. Madlad was far from lightly armored. Whoever made this droid created a killing machine through and through.

Upon arrival at where everyone seems to be gathering, it's single lensed eye turns green, that head swiveling about to scan everyone standing there. It then vocalizes an imitation of clearing it's throat. Once again, the similarities to sentients that this droid had was disturbing. "So, this is what we're working with? Could do worse. A pleasure to meet you all. I am designated as Madlad, first mate on Talohn's ship." It states, offering it's hand to shake. Madlad was curious, it wanted to see who was brave enough to shake the metallic hand. On top of everything else, the droid's voice wasn't helping it in the eerie department either. It had a deep robotic static to it, but the smoothness of it's phrases and words was as if a normal person were speaking through an old radio. Overall, it's vocalizations, it's body language, all of it felt alive, too alive. Certainly enough to disturb people with an uncanny valley effect. Whether or not somone shake's it's hand, it's single lens goes red as it locks on to the hellgate entrance.

"A literal portal to hell. Hm....Beautiful, in it's own twisted way. I wonder what awaits us in the abyss."

Leea Pandac Leea Pandac Jhira Mereel Jhira Mereel Kale Onara Kale Onara Vanya Aklin Vanya Aklin Alex Eldar Siv Dragr Siv Dragr The Quartermaster The Quartermaster
 

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