Private Threading The Needle

[Vivi Irius]

Lotus VII Mining Facility
Status: Operational
Orbiting Planet: Deus

Minutes Before Breach...

The humming drum of the ship slipped through the stars like a spear of lightning in the dark. Its massive size and structural integrity nothing less than perfect. Although, unorthodox in its creation, given the multi-faceted engineering of the Novatar, Neti, Myka and Draelvasier; The Syprus was a ship for all in the Bryn'adul Xaelesh Protectorate. The large cavernous spaces at the center split off into six different directions. Each a unique and sequestered experience for those among their company. For Novatar, it was the black corridor nestled deep into the bow of the starship. Each intricate detail a display a testament to their ingenuity. Large chunks of Novatrite had been used here and the pulsars protecting the ship were a core function and attraction for Novatar. For others, it may have been the living organisms opening and closing like maws of a creature to let them through to their Drael chambers. It could have been the chittering sounds of insectoid malformations leaving thick sets of mucus along the cieling and walls. Or maybe it was the seedling pits, that overgrew and took over a third of the ship entirely, a vast entanglement of pure organic tree life becoming its own part of Syprus. Other areas of the ship entwined all four, shifting and changing to the desire of those on board. This is what it meant to travel for the Protectorate, for now.

Patiently, they had been biding their time. Sleeping like a giant in the depths of space. All of them knew that co-existing was going to take sacrifice and risk, in order to build a real home for each of their own species. It was a complex issue, one that demanded immediate action, before unrest and unruly alliances became broken. Had the Draelvasir never landed on Andra Dominus, Vivi wouldn't have been part of this journey, worse even, a council member deciding the fate of others. He wasn't alone in such responsibilities and to make it fair each species annointed multiple representitives of thier kind. It just so happened, those in favor of this mission were now all on board. Including other volunteers from the Neti, Myka, Draelvasier and Novatar. Regardless, before any of them could properly carry out the raid of Lotus VII, they had to hope the Syprus remained unseen during their approach.

The ship was built with comfort, speed and stealth in mind. With armaments that allowed for a decent layer of protection and a few hundred energy based weapons equipped with unrelenting capabilities due to the Novatar's own Navit Orb. Still, compared to the well armed station of Lotus VII, the Syprus was at a huge disadvantage if spotted.

At the height of the ship was the command center, each technological display more unique than the next. Vines wove their way across a galactic map, showing the trajectory of the ship in relation to the mining facility. Sparks of energy spit out from another display, before a wide screen morphed from black steel. Sensors pinging layer after layer of rich and dense alloys. Lastly, a new form of Draelvasier tech rose from the ground at the center and into the hands of a Baedurin. The long worm like podium finally clutched by the hands of a Drael, the ship reacted and the humming of its natural inner workings calmed.

A sheen of nothingness blanketed the Syprus as they broke into silence. The stirring uncertainty of its execution wouldn't be known for another long minute as the Syprus crossed over into enemy signature territory. The massive spacecraft slipped through, two large spires slicing through undetected. It seemed alliances were more valuable than once thought for the Drael. The Baedurin grunted, his grin stiffening as he spoke into the communciator below.

"Everyone to their stations, we strike first and strike hard. Remember the plan.." The guttural sound of the Baedurins voice exploded through the ship and then it paused for only a moment before he finished.

"No survivors."

The Pulsarium - Present -

The veil of the ship cloaked itself like a chameleon, changing from vast colors to almost translucent against the backdrop of the unnerving endless black. Vivi, could feel the change in the energy around him and the Ember Knights accompanying the Pulsarium. The changes in the magnates shifted through their being, each of them hovering in unison with a brief shudder. The ping from the change hit Vivi like a rod to the chest, if he had lungs it would have made him suffer, but only briefly. Instead, the sprite of his flowing body seeped out from the Novatrite armor protecting his delicate and airy physiology. Still, he hovered like a brute, massive in size despite his true form. All of them did, waiting for the moment to bring their Fytar capabilities to the very forefront of the planned raid. This was uncommon for many of them, having to restrain their very power in order for others to work in conjunction with them. Although, without the protectorate none of them would be on the Syprus, free from Andra Dominus's swampy marshes hiding the Gyre in putrid waters.

Vivi placed his hand against the pulsing charge of the Novatrite to his left. Large metallic spinning mechanisms coming to life before the positive and negative forces began to play with each other. Tiny shards of black piecing together to make a solid orb. The puslarium reacted now, as the energies from the anti-chamber below began to manifest into a stream of raw siphons. The orb began to glow a burning red and Vivi's purple eyes locked onto it. The contianment of the energy swirled inside of it, captured carefully through a process the Novatar called "Na'vit." Syprus was equipped with many of them for the armaments installed throughout, but Vivi had other ideas for this one. Trickles of flame creases upward through the slits of his armored helmet, purple leashes curling into a wicked smile. His eyes shifted to his men and gave the order.

"Let us prepare." The crackiling static of his voice screeched through the halls of the corridor. A small rumble affected the innerlinings of other pulsars around them and the other Fytars began to prepare. Typically, the Fytar were last dispatched last. This mission wasn't typical, there were others to account for and Vivi wouldn't have searing bodies of his alliances on his purple tendrils. Quickly, the Ember Knights shifted out of the way, walking through a doorway with a film of clear liquid. The Pulsarium was wide now, with intricate interlocking placements across the floor along with stretching platforms lifting to the center of the room. The width alone was enough for at least a hundred more of them. Vivi moved with ease before joing the rest of the Ember Knights at the center. Rotating beams began to churn, another rumble waking the ship once more with life. The another beam began to cycle around them, until both were barely visible due to their speed.

Streaks of static and high pressure latched onto the beams, generating enough energy to finally open a glass-like portal below them. The platform Vivi and his warriors stood on slowly lowered them. Vivi looked to the rest of them. This wasn't for their success only, this was for their ancestors, the Novatar before them and to Vivi...true balance in the galaxy. This mission was a necessary risk and reward. Only, the cost of failure could mean death, even if they survived the raid. He knew of the Draelvasier, their ruthless efforts to swallow their pride for the betterment of their people. If the Novatar failed here, it could mean war with them. Even still, if it wasn't the Drael, the Myka posed just as much a threat to them. Their ever expanding mindset to take root from world to world, contributing to many possible issues in the future wasn't something Vivi wanted to think about. Lastly, the Neti. Invasive and cunning in their efforts to mold themselves into everything in existence, a pestilence that had a mind. Considering all of this before jumping and tearing asunder the mining facility below, made Vivi that much more determined.

A thick arm full of elegant bends and arches of Novatrite lifted to the air. The platform stopping dead in response.

"We crash in from above and stabilize the facility for the rest of us. Am I understood?" Vivi's voice sharpened to a whining crackle, white noise bellowing in the distance. A sure nod came from the rest of them as they stood in silence waiting for the command from the captain of Syprus.



TchKren’Anook | Gristle ​

 

[Gristle]

Spoiler: Equipment

War Gaster
Cytoplasmic Cataphract

Anticipation made Gristle's mouth flood with saliva, his digestive system already aroused by the idea of latching onto flesh and tearing it away in bloody strips from the carcass of his foes. Violence was intrinsically linked in his mind with sustenance, and truly it was perhaps not so peculiar to his kin. However, he did not suspect their fledgling allies would be as inclined toward eating the foe.

Allies. Now this was a concept that was strange, a foreign idea that had somehow implanted itself within the Thrum with enough acceptance that it had sprouted into fruition. The Myka did not need to slaughter each and everything they came across like ritualistic purifiers, but the concept of binding their fate and success with another species entirely still seemed an egregious excess to many - though not the majority - of the insect race. Gristle was among their number, though he was not outspoken with his opinions, especially when these "allies" kept bringing him such delightful morsels of red to sate his appetite.

Gristle could accept them all, save perhaps for the Novatar.

They were old enemies. When Gristle touched the mass-mind, and scoured the depths of synaptic knowledge for scraps of genealogical wisdom, it was the Novatar who so often took the role of foe. The conflict had gone for so long that the Myka did not truthfully even remember what the origin of it was, or why they had fought so often. It was not quite war, but it was nothing like peace. Gristle had only once fought with the Novatar, and he knew them to be beings of enormous strength and capability. Warring with them was difficult, dangerous, and often costly.

Were it not for the difference in their reproductive rates, the Myka would long ago have lost their bid for galactic conquest against such a terrible rival, but a thousand Myka lying dead was worth every fallen Novatar. They'd reached critical mass already by spreading upon so many worlds, and their energetic enemies had not snuffed them in their cosmic crib fast enough. Eventually, given eternity, Gristle felt that they'd have won their rivalry, but fate had something else in mind.

Now he had to behave diplomatically, pretend as though he cared whatsoever for the fate of the Ember Knights aboard the vessel. He needed to please the Draelvasier enough that they would continue to accept Myka presence in their fledgling suprastate. The Neti were easier to please, because they had touched the Thrum and had opened themselves equally, and now it felt altogether so simple to coexist with them even in times of anxiety and conflict.

Gristle would obey, would do what was requested of him by the myriad minds of the Ykaradan colony. He intended to drown his thoughts in blood and carnage. He hoped only that the defenders would be filling enough to allow him to forget, even briefly, about the warring feelings in his heart.


TchKren’Anook | Vivi Irius

 

[Vivi Irius]

Lotus VII Mining Facility
Status: Operational
Orbiting Planet: Deus
Current Location: Deposit Control Room

Vivi could feel the energy around him, the swirling coalescence of everything the force imbued. It spoke to him, it ushered ambition, strength, and truth. He knew he was destined for a greater purpose. Complacency on Andra Dominus would have turned him into the very thing he hated...a hypocrite. Other Novatar would rather aimlessly travel the stars for their "True North." Vivi found it such a waste, a life of perpetual reliance on a simple feeling. Although, he knew the feeling of well matched pulsars. It was unparalleled in comparison. He hadn't truly experience the intensity of such pull throughout his lifetime, at least, not yet. The only real pull the galaxy brought him was the desire to rule, lead, no; save his kind from a meaningless existence. He would blaze a path of fire to become the nightmare the galaxy needed, in order for his Novatar to flourish.

So, he stood at the edge of the magnetic wall, looking down at the wavy stream of energy manipulate the ground below him. He was proud, the creation of Novatar energy had produced something truly incredible. No longer did they have to utilize the antiquated hangar bays to drop themselves on the enemy. Instead, they would pass through the gateway and free fall onto the mining facility. It truly was a new form of passage. One that many of the other species could potentially use to their advantage. Still, Vivi watched, the wisp of purple airy flame jutting out from his Novatrite armor to make eyes. They brightened as the Captain's voice came into the chamber of silence.

"Insert and Extract, we are in position. On my mark." Captain Grull's confidence permeated throughout the entirety of the ship.

The Ember Knights shifted, loud metallic sounds vibrating through the Pulsarium as they stepped forward. Vivi stepped ahead of them all and as Captain Grull gave the order, Vivi jumped. His body falling violently downward through the endless vaccum of space. The cold wrapped around the Novatrite armor. However, the intesity of which he burned beneath gave no quarter to the elements of science. Quickly, Vivi let out a pulse of magentic waves. The force enabling him to fend off a disasterous landing as the magnates stabilized his free fall and landed softly on the top of the Mining structure.

He let out a screech, communicating to the rest of the Ember Knights in free fall. "North West Quadrant." Vivi could feel the surge of energy, metals and other deposits of hidden resources all around him. He was connected to them, feeding off their natural waves of existence to corrdinate the attack. Swiftly, Vivi lifted the weight of his magnified armor, weightless under his spell of magnetic manipulation. The focus and adherence to the very metallic structure the Mining Facility was built with was taken into account. He could feel the steel reject him, exuding a want of manipulation by his very own power. Alas, he wouldn't, none of the Fytar would. They couldn't compromise the facility, not yet, anyway.

Soaring to the deposit control room, Vivi landed. The building buckled under his weight, leaving dents in the outer shell of whatever manmade efforts to keep the pressure of space from slipping in.

Vivi's purple flame grew sinister as he pulled out the Nav'it Orb. Three of his men crowding around before more energy began to layer the stream of fire energy inside it. Vivi placed it down, the shell of protection quietly melting away the encasement that prevented them from getting inside. Doors were a thing of the past and the scroching hot liquid that began to form seeped through. It had created a hole big enough for Vivi to find purchase inside the entrance to the locked control room. The Ember Knight's followed in tow.

"Patch it, then we breach the control room." Vivi ordered.

The sudden change in one of the Ember Knights began to manipulate the air around them. What once felt like the deathly cold tempatures of space, no longer applied. Heat, in the corridor began to swell and before long, the force and energy of a dying star expanded into a burst of flames. The sound was like music to Vivi's ears. The stream of fire hissing and whispering at the air like a torrent of truth. The hole above began to melt over the newly placed beam of steel, an easy fix for a Novatar. The sheer amount of heat melted the steel as it expanded and froze, then melted and froze again as it sealed the corridor.

Vivi turned to the large hulking door. His arms stretched out, tugging on the very constructs mass. It refused to obey Vivi's command, at first. Vivi latched on to a deeper connection. The warping cycles of each individualized pulses of brackets, screws, bolts, levers and cogs deep within the doors mechanical mainframe. He washed everything else away, rejecting their calling to him. Like an engineer deconstructing in a perfectly executed order, each tiny piece of the vaulted security door began to tear away. Each screw latching to the outside shell of Vivi's armor. The Magnetic properties obeyed now and Vivi confirmed once more that doors were obsolete. Useless against a Fytar.

The metal groaned, speaking to the Ember Knights of its very deathly end. Seconds passed and the door fell forward with a resounding crash. The floor breaking into the underbelly of wires and pipes.

Vivi snapped his fingers together, the grating of Novatrite against Novatrite exuding a high pitched noise. Their systems obeyed him, phasing out or losing battery in a blink of a second. Those that would come to find this place after, didn't need to know who the culprits were. The pulsars disrupted everything and as the command unit of the mining facility turned to see who attacked, streams of flames engulfed the room. A swathe of hellfire scorching away their sins.

The energies of the universe whispered to Vivi as the razing began.

Balance...

TchKren’Anook | Gristle ​

 

[Gristle]

Spoiler: Equipment

War Gaster
Cytoplasmic Cataphract

In the absence of a landing party accompanying the Novatars to the surface, a high-quality camera watched them from the confines of the starship as they went about their deadly task. Sitting back and patiently observing their aeons-old rivals fulfill their tasks with such enviable talent felt peculiar. Gristle did not bother to crowd around the view monitor, instead relying upon a Nanitic whose sole purpose was to glue itself to the screen and provide constant updates to the others. Nevertheless, though he did not see with his own eyes, the tension that wracked through his body was all the same as if he had watched the unfolding events himself.

The War-Form would have felt far better about the circumstance if Vivi and the others had been completely and utterly incompetent. If they had floundered in the magnetism of the cosmic body, fallen through its atmosphere, and crashed deep into the nothing below. A disturbing notion crossed his thoughts as he failed to recall any memories of such a thing actually killing a Novatar. He briefly bore witness to the memories of his antecessors, sifting through them as though he himself had been present for each, watching through the eyes of the long-dead by means of a nearby Synaptic.

No reports. Disheartening.

The entry into the station seemed to have gone without a hitch, the control of the Novatars coupled beautifully with their raw strength to afford them a talent that seemed unnatural from the standpoint of the Myka. It was perhaps only a minute or two into the adventure before the Myka had begun the process of boarding their various shuttlecraft. It would be necessary for them to gain access to the facility as well, but they had to contend with the more pressing threat of the vacuum and would not be able to dive onto the mining station without their transports so easily.

Gristle felt most equal to his kin in these quiet moments aboard transport craft. All of the Myka except for their pilot felt astoundingly equal in moments such as these. Gristle for all of his murderous talent could do nothing more than wait, and beside him were workers, crafters, nanitics, and others who found each and all of their own skills and passions and thoughts sequestered away, confined for the duration of the journey. Perhaps not all were content to be cramped into the shuttle, unhappy about the absence of space and the fruition of their various projects - but they waited nonetheless.

Aboard the transport, all were equal parts luggage and passenger.

"We depart for the living quarters." He spoke, utilizing the communication device that he had been given. He'd used such machines before, of course, but it always felt incredibly slow compared to the instantaneousness of the Thrum.

The shuttles launched, lurched through space slowly and surely, and arrived at their destination in the Southeastern Quadrant of the station, nearly opposite of the Novatars own entry point.

The Myka did not possess the magnetic properties of their Novatar compatriots, and so relied on their own natural talents to affect an entry. The shuttles pressed tight against the walls of the station and opened their doorways, a hasty seal having been affixed by means of thick reams of resin before the starcraft had ever left their mothership. Aboard each vessel, a cramped and compressed Major set about their vicious work, flooding their mouths with powerful acid, burning rapidly through chunks of the wall.

Gristle watched as his brethren went about the horrid task. The Majors were unharmed by their own acids, a biological protection against self-harm, but the chill of the wall was intense, and they had to press close to avoid any of their secretions from impacting unwanted portions of the shuttle or the station and exposing all of them to horrifying spaghettification from a breach.

Which meant pressing their mouths fully to the durasteel. The space-exposed durasteel. The durasteel which sat at temperatures that could only be found in the empty void. Gristle outstretched his consciousness to his peer, and felt the agonizing pain that swept through them. Pieces of their mouth had begun to freeze to the hull, tearing away at exposed flesh whenever they shifted, leaving gory ribbons of viscera and hemolymph splattered across the unmelted edges of the wall like the work of grotesque artists.

Eventually, the hole was sufficiently opened to affect more manual deconstruction, and the Majors were allowed to settle back and recover their strength, their minds filled with pain.

Gristle looked instead to the minuscule pieces of flesh frozen into the wall, and felt his hunger rise. He needed to fixate on the mission ahead, and yet... here a morsel, flash-frozen seemingly so as to retain its freshness.

Were it not for the cries of alarm from panicked crewmen within, Gristle may have given in to his feast. As it was, a chase ensued rapidly, and a hundred minds began to collaborate on a single task: slaughter.

TchKren’Anook | Vivi Irius

 

[Vivi Irius]

Lotus VII Mining Facility
Status: Operational
Orbiting Planet: Deus
Current Location: Deposit Control Room

The putrid smell of melted metal lingered in the control room. The sweet metallic mixture of scorched corpses and melted iron fusing together to create a distinguished nauseating miasma. Smoke crowded the airways and the black touched burns across the floor painted a horrific aftermath of the fire that released into the control room. Frail bodies crumbling from the intensity of the Fytars power. Of course, for a Novatar, none of these elements mattered. Energy, heat, metal, and magnates all coalesced into the very nature of balance. If they could smell, they would reconsider entering the heated chamber of death, but they couldn't.

Like water, the Fytars glided across the melted metal beneath them. Flares of different colored flames lighting up the now midnight scars of their actions.

"All dead, Confirmed."

Vivi turned the hulking mechanisms of his internal Novatar heart controlling the shift in the Novatrite around him. It followed his movements, correcting the placement of each new piece of metal from the healthy pulses of his heart. He stood confident, victorious in his goal to secure the control room. It was at the cost of disrupting the deep systems of the facility's electrical dependencies, but Vivi cared little for the implications of it. These people, their greed had brought them death. It was Vivi who gave it to them quickly, out of mercy.

A slight groan, white noise and a static high whine was given in response. Words being relayed through waves of manipulation from one Fytar to the next.

"Well done brothers." Vivi fixed his gaze on his right hand commander, a towering Novatar with blue metallic armor shifting to his form. Vivi had given him the name "Azure." It was fitting, as the compounded wisps of flame beneath his heavily armored heart was a sea of blue. Another Novatar, unrelenting in their effort to make change in a tainted galaxy.

Azure couldn't remember the last time he was given the order to rinse away the sins of others with fire. For him, he wanted better for their kin left on Andra Dominus. It was his life's goal to resurrect the Gyre back to its former glory. Something that resonated with Vivi. Azure, however, wasn't open to working with those outside their own kind. The fact that their age-old rivals got to exist alongside them made things more complicated for them all. Vivi and Azure understood the cost, but the price they were paying could mean their end. The Myka were an infestation. They were an uncontrolled pestilence, a disease. The only admirable thing about them was the effectiveness in combat, their consistent precise mutilations of organic flesh. For Vivi, he hoped he could get his people to travel and grow in size like the Myka, but the truth of it was null. Nothing, not even Novatar could replicate the birthing methods of a Myka. Now, they were lucky to have them on their side...

For now.

Ancient wars would have to wait another day. Another creak of sharp metal reverberated through the control room. Vivi stood at the center of the console, the sparking display of scorched wires spitting at him as he inspected it. He shuddered for a moment, the processing analog that manifested in his mind giving him the answers of Gytars before him. Spatial Novatar giving guidance to his people. Like a network of special energy and information a flood of solutions became one. Vivi stood tall now, energy seeping out from the armored black protecting him. Tiny strings of flame grasped onto the unit. Jerking and sliding specific copper wire in a display of reconstruction as the magnetic powers of Vivi twisted the solution into reality. A few bursts of purple leashes of flame licked the circuit boards still intact.

A large brightness hummed to life, a giant screen hovering over him as he began to ascertain the information before him. Seven quadrants, two of which a direct funnel to the resources below the mining facility. Signatures of other living existences pinged onto the screen, locks of door shafts blinking to form a warning of exposed spatial airways, but only for a moment before the alarming warning dissipated.

Myka...

The sudden realization of his long battle hardened adversaries made Vivi's eyes flare with discontent. It seemed their breach into the living quarters was also successful...

Shame.

Another source of electronic hissing came to life on the overhead screen. Red dots quickly making their way to the other end of the bridge access Vivi and his Fytars came from. Something felt different, the malformation of radio waves in the distance almost going silent. The force stripped from any inclination of what was on the opposite end of the bridge. Vivi turned, his purple gleaming eyes narrowed as the bay doors spun and clicked into place. A release of pressure and the door opened.

Vivi stepped forward, heading toward the main doorway of the Control room to get a better look. The confirmation came in the force and when it did,

Vivi placed his pulsars on his only weapon.

Ignis Impulsa.

These conditions didn't fit well to use it, but as the final seconds of the door reaffirmed his fears a group of lightsabers hummed to life on the opposing side of the bridge. A display of green, yellow and blue sabers sparking to life ready to disrupt the Protectorates plans. Vivi screeched, the scraping of his own armored Novatrite shook as it moved. Then the weapon, a giant greatsword burning with the energy of his own life force dispersing heat along its edge, hung in front of him.

Jedi weren't meant to be here and the information he had known of them made Vivi angrier. They were a nuisance. They were part of the problem in the force. Giving antidotes of tainted ideologies across the stars for as long as his own ancestors could remember.

Disgusting.

"Let them come."

TchKren’Anook | Gristle ​

 

[Gristle]

Spoiler: Equipment

War Gaster
Cytoplasmic Cataphract

The scent of hot blood and steamy gore was incense to the revelrous carnage of the Myka. Gristle had long acknowledged that his personal hungers ran far deeper than his kindred due to his War Form heritage, but that did not mean that the others could not enjoy such a splendid feast or sate their own temptations in the midst of the raid.

Gristle pitied the Novatar for their inability to smell such a delightful bouquet as gutted men. The War Form drew near a carcass, planting his mouth against the rippled abdomen, sucking in the scent of offal which had steeped with the fallen's last meal. He thought he could scent the vaguest hint of half-digested yeast, perhaps some manner of bread. He took a bite, savoring the taste, suckling at the bloody remnants like a beast to the teat of its mother until the intestinal tract had emptied its cargo completely into his mouth, flapping limp to the ground as a wet noodle.

Perhaps the authority of the station had deemed it reasonable to keep weapons out of the crew quarters. Perhaps they were tyrannical or dictatorial, and had treated these workers poorly and been frightened at the possibility of revenge or insurrection. Whatever their reasoning, they had apparently deemed it reasonable to keep their weapons locked exclusively in an armory somewhere on the station. The workers here and their families were unarmed except for a handful of makeshift tools and a single smuggled blaster.

The Myka had torn through them like wet paper and had repainted the hallways in carrion red. Their War Gasters were sufficient to annihilate the unarmed, and the pair of War Forms among the raiding party were sufficient to slaughter whole sections of the crew quarters by themselves. Gristle questioned whether the Novatar had found similar success in their own assaults. Perhaps they had stumbled upon the better-armed residents of the station and were even now suffering casualties.

It was a difficult problem to have - he wanted them to succeed, because it was more important for their alliance as a whole that the plan went off without a hitch. Yet, to know that the Novatar had excelled meant that they would be as strong as they had ever been - and that was a disturbed thought indeed.

In many respects, the Myka had conquered space within their home galaxy, spreading through a thousand worlds, their colonies surging with new brood and armies conjured from the deepest depths of the void. Yet, they had never been able to extinguish the Novatar even for all of their numbers. Gristle knew that regardless of the technologies they uncovered or built, the innate powers of the Novatar meant that they would always be a threat, that it was a moot point to hope for their total extermination. How could they chase them into the deep parts of space? How could they kill something born of stars?

The ancient war would start again one day. Gristle knew it and he felt it in the consciousness of his fellow War-Forms. A few of the kin believed that they had found peace at last with their rivals, but those inclined to battle knew that there was never an end to conflict, and that the old wounds would reopen eventually.

They hoped for it secretly in the deep parts of their minds. They opened these to Gristle too and he opened himself to them. This cabal of like-minded souls, this core of violence at the heart of the Myka would always be prepared when it came time again to die a thousand to one to the Novatar.

A threat. He raised his head from the corpse, cast the Force out long and wide. There was something strong there - something he hadn't felt before they had attacked. Force Users? He outstretched himself further, prodded one in the empty nothing to see if it would react, and when it did he knew that he had been equally seen.

"There are Force Users among the defenders. Jedi or Sith." He cast through the Thrum, alerting each and all of his kin of the threat.

But they were far away, and for now there was a greater issue. Two-dozen of the defenders had managed to arm themselves with primitive weapons, sharpened rods of steel and metal like spears, and they had blocked further access to the station by means of a chokehold on an airlock. Gristle watched them through a Nanitic before it was helplessly speared, seeing the desperation writ across their faces, seeing the huddled bodies of their families hiding behind them.

They wouldn't surrender, wouldn't yield to the Myka onslaught even though they must have known they would lose. He felt nothing for them except what he had felt for all living things that came near him.

Hunger. He'd make meat and veal of them all.



TchKren’Anook | Vivi Irius

 

[Rakvul]

​

Mining Facility, Scourge...

​

Deep in the vast ocean of stars, outside scanner range of the Mining Facility lurked a flotilla of ships drifting in space like a great hive. They surrounded the monstrosity in the center of it all, a dark iron warship of immense size it struck fear into the hearts of all. Every passing moment the facility rocked with impacts from the assaulting forces, gripped in the throes of battle. Deep within the bridge the Titan's Wrath sat in the command throne, helm resting on the arm while his mandibles gnashed and snapped with barely contained fury. Agreements made between the different species, this new Protectorate was still fresh on the mind, and it didn't sit well for the Darkener. Many considered him to be as hardline as they come, deeply rooted in the beliefs of the Draelvasier, and the Bryn'adul. It was within his nature, his first instincts to slaughter them all.

Times change. The agreements were beneficial to all as they surged forwards, it didn't make adjusting to it any easier. While he was progressive in some areas there were others, he never quite learned the meaning of the word and this was one of them, the past years involved putting to the torch aliens and heretics alike, growing the Remnant. The Chieftain valued this agreement, and his word was enough to sate him for now, but the lingering feelings still remained. For now, he would provide aid with their mission. "All ships. Move into the system and surround the facility. Destroy everything that cant be identified as Protectorate forces." Rakvul ordered, the Prime Hive Shard in his gauntlet glowed bright, as his will was transmitted to the captains of every ship in his fleet.

For now, Rakvul kept his eyes locked on the image of the station contemplating his next move.

Gristle | Vivi Irius​

Spoiler

• "Dialogue"
• "Hive Shard Communication"
• "War Whistle Communication"
• "Beast Communication"
• "NPC Dialogue"
• "NPC Mind Dialogue"

​

 

[Vivi Irius]

Lotus VII Mining Facility
Status: Operational
Orbiting Planet: Deus
Current Location: Deposit Control Room
Current Equipment: Ignis Impulsa | Ember Armor | Nav'it Orb
Current Squad: The Ember Knights

Vivi's shimmering eyes of deep flame sparked to life. The slits of his amorphous eye sockets turned upward and narrow. A sinister gaze meeting the group of Jedi that stepped into the bridge. Vivi's hulking mass waited for them, the Black Knight like a statue frozen in time. Beneath the surface, Vivi moved. His energy based body shifted back and forth erratically with excitement. It had been a long time since he was met with tested and trained resistance. White noise filled the area around him. Tiny punctures of pin needles weaving their way into his influence. Each metallic whisper swirling into his pulsars with ease. An understood static contract subliminally resided now. Each layer of Vivi's power entwined. Thread by thread it began to amass. In the distance he could feel another signature, another aid calling to him in the throes of the stars.

Has the Draelvasier come?

The Jedi came with amazingly fast speed, the force guiding them with grace and gift. Speed, however, did not reign here. The first of the two Jedi reached the control room door, but not before loud metal groans grew with intensity. The sharpening hesitation in their movements gave him all the information he needed to enact his first assault. Vivi's sudden shift in Novatrite around him tightened, the solid steel clamps of the control room door released with an unjust quickness. The churning manipulation of the release ripped outward towards Vivi with magnificent force. The thick heavy plated pneumatic door slammed shut as the two Jedi crossed into its influence, no, Vivi's influence.

A loud crunch and squishy aftermath created a cloud of red mist, dissolving the two assailants into nothing. The red spraying of blood and guts mixed with the charred black stains all around. It happened so fast, even the Ember Knights behind Vivi felt a sudden shock. Each of their Novatrite armor shifted in a form of surprise and immediate acceptance. Vivi's purple energy spit outward, tendrils of his body exuding a moment of relishing. They were weak, barely trained enforcers of an ancient ideal that no longer had purpose in the new world the Protectorate came to make.

But there were others. The force spoke to him, the pain and fragile bonds he had broken between the now dead Jedi and living ripped through him. He refused to wait, killing them in their moment of emotional grief would make things easier by all accounts. Vivi was no stranger to trained Jedi.

Will they Crumble like the others?

He questioned it, in his own humorous way.

For Vivi, it was rhetorically ironic to ask himself. Lately, Vivi has considered many things. His people, his purpose, his future. He figured the Jedi could easily have developed the same thoughts at one point in their lives.

Did that make them the same? Did that make the Novatar less for sharing such inadequate thoughts?

Vivi's refusal was all he needed. Commonality meant nothing. Was...

Nothing.

The Draelvasier, The Myka, The Jedi, The Sith, Politicians, Rulers, Everyone and Everything. All of them could share thousands of similarities with his kin, but they all would be a means to an end...therefore...

They were all nothing.

The shift in the force alerted him. The control room doors that smashed the two young Jedi into a cloud of despair and regret, ripped from its frame. The massive hulking two ton door flung towards Vivi with purpose. The pinging refractors from the entire room stopped it. Vivi's obsidian arm reaching outward. The thick door hung in stasis as one of the female Jedi before him screamed.

"You! You killed them!"

Vivi's body moved underneath the protective layer of Novatrite once more. His eyes slipped to the sides as he spotted the annoying noise. She would be dealt with first. He could feel her unstable emotions, trying to contain the hate she clearly felt for him. It could have fueled her, but the force told him of her true desire.

Purity. Lightside.

Principals that were inconsequential. The force allowed both to exist since the beginning of time. Darkside and Lightside. Little did these Jedi know, it didn't matter. Not to the Novatar. Anger festered in Vivi, these so called warriors of light were a waste. An altered sense of righteousness and squires of falsities. Vivi continued to keep the metallic door in place, stopping the assault all together. He let go of it, the tether between him and the door releasing with a sudden prolific crash. The control room floor caved inward, splints of the underbelly contorting upward as sparks spit at them all. A sudden flash enshrouded the room before the power was completely lost.

Then they will die in the dark...

TchKren’Anook | Gristle | Rakvul ​

 

[Gristle]

Spoiler: Equipment

War Gaster
Cytoplasmic Cataphract

The War-Forms of the Myka were designed for brutal and quick conflicts such as these, made for lurching through darkened tunnels and shadowy places and making short work of invaders and prey. Though the conglomerate of humans that had gathered together for their defense had managed to secure themselves a fairly defensible position and even a number of makeshift weapons, these were only able to repel the worker caste and their softer squishier bodies.

Covered in chitinous plate and murderous spikes, Gristle had not felt even the slightest worry as to whether his hide could weather the blows of the enemy. Faux spears that had glinted so fiercely had merely bent against his outer covering, and even clubs and pipes possessed none of the percussiveness necessary to wound the soft physiognomy under his chitin. The same could not be said for their workers overalls, their jumpsuits, and the smattering of "armor" that they had procured in their emergency.

Acids from the War Gaster had soaked them with ease, burning painful caustic holes through their bodies, obliterating organs in the process, or else leaving the survivors as nothing more than debilitated wretches rolling about on the floor in agony. He'd dislocated and shattered bones in others with his bare hands, tore into the vitals of one with his teeth, impaled still another pair like an insectoid shrike so that they hung upon his body, ornaments of carnage.

He did not show mercy to anyone in the defense. He fought until all were sedate or dead, and then feasted upon the remnant flesh that had been left behind, sating his appetites for blood and flesh. The few adults who posed no threat or did not act violently, and the children who accompanied them were left to the work of the Workers. These would be taken prisoner, ferried back to the Myka controlled portions of the vessel which had brought them, and subsequently ferried off to a mothership whenever they had returned to Protectorate space.

Gristle knew the adults would not survive long under the torturous analysis of Myka vivisectors and experimenters, but the children might be held for ransom, or else indoctrinated to serve as agents and laborers of the Ykaradan. Such espionage and intrigue was somewhat beyond the Myka as it stood, but it was a matter that they fully intended to look into further before they engaged in any large-scale galactic wars with major powers.

The pocket of resistance shattered, the War-Form opened his mind to the Thrum, perusing the work of his kin and finding success in each and every one. No other pockets of resistance had sprouted up in this section of the facility, the workers all devoured by the swift assault of the insectoids or else taken captive for later use. Already he could see a column of these prisoners being funneled back for safekeeping. Perhaps the other races would object; perhaps they would not understand why the Myka needed to take prisoners - but then they had their reasons, and they were beholden to none.

Alliance did not mean servitude, after all.

"We are finished with the workers quarters. All are dead or captive." He instinctively attempted to cast images of imprisonment and slaughter before remembering the limitations of the device to read the Thrum. Supposedly such devices did exist among the Draelvasier to allow for transmission of thought and image... but they were still unfamiliar. "Are there still Jedi defenders? Do you require us to assist you, Novatar?" He knew Vivi's name, had scoured it from the mass-mind, but it felt dirty to admit that they deserved designations. "If not, we await further instruction from the Fleet."



TchKren’Anook | Vivi Irius Rakvul