Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Public To parlay with Traitors

The Lord of Fate
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Westenra Mina Westenra Mina
Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood

The air was thick with the scent of rotting corpses, copper, and dust. The fields of bodies, civilians, soldiers of both the Ancient Hegemony and its traitors lie both side by side. Bodies were literally heaped upon each-other and not a foot of grass or dirt was seen. Remains of gargantuan war-machines lay stretched across the landscape. The land having long since swallowed them up. Ancient Trenches, fortifications, tanks, and craters littered the battlefield before them. Flags, long since tattered by time stood a lonely vigil among the dead. The Hegemony's once masterful and unstoppable armies, reduced to nothing but dust. The mountains nearby had elaborate carvings in them, with a plethora of statues carved from the stone. Depicting multiple female figures stretching their hands down to the dead. Perhaps a "Memorial" for the fallen.

The sky was a deep red, similar to an evening night. Crimson stretching across the sky in a irregular pattern. Utterly unnatural... One could get a sense of "Artificialness" of this world. As if it were an illusion, or perhaps a creation of some extremely powerful being. It was anyone's guess at this point. Nevertheless, the air was heavy with the Dark-Side of the force, easily surpassing that of Korriban and even Malachor in its potency. Giving a unending feeling of cold.

Disembodied voices, and shadows moving across the landscape did give an idea of what they were dealing with. A realm not of their own, but of another. The only landmark being a single massive spire stretching outward toward the sky in the distant horizon. Above it, a cloud swirling with energy. A way out perhaps?

Zachariel's intuition did seem to bring himself fruit in this dire situation. Having secured himself a few quite well preserved Plasma Grenades, alongside some sort of Autocannon-like device. Westenra's searching seemed to bring up a few more Plasma Grenades alongside a few Frag Grenades alongside a few rusted Blaster Type-weapons. However, the walk ahead. Through the field of corpses would be wrought with danger. It could be possible that some are still alive, having suffered for millennia in agony and unable to escape. Or, there may be more slightly less dead individuals walking around.

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There was a deep howling in the Distance, one of an inhuman nature. It echoed and reverberated across the field. Making sound like it was coming from all directions. That's when Zachariel could see it. A group of about Ten Horribly Mutated Shock Marines. Presumably Traitors by the unfamiliar Heraldry they wore upon their ancient armor. They obviously were once Human or Cathar, but have degenerated into little more than insane and animistic creatures of a child's nightmare. Their faces, no longer resembled mere human. But mutated by whatever force governed this realm of existence. Their armor, once a protective suit. Now served a function as both a part of the their bodies and protection. Fortunately, they hadn't seen Zachariel and Westenra yet. As they started ripping into a machine the size of Power Suit used on Corellia to get to the long-since deceased pilot inside.

There was another way to go. Up the mountain and around, but this would be a perilous journey and fraught with danger.


(Now this! Is the open ended adventure I had in mind for this chapter of the story. I intend this to be mostly your actions rather than mine. So feel free to do whatever you wish!)
 
Having looted the bodies, Zachariel stood and observed his surroundings. It looked every bit the ancient battlefield it no doubt was, or at least the dumping ground of battlefields. The sights and smells of this battlefield didn't bother Zachariel in the slightest, though he was intrigued to see that every corpse he could see was from the Hegemony, whether loyalist or traitor. This was the final resting ground of their Civil War. That had so many implications that Zachariel gave up the train of thought almost immediately.

As it was, their surroundings promised to be both a bountiful field of possibilities, but also one filled with danger and conflict. The howl sounded then, and Zachariel turned his gaze to observe the beasts looting whatever machine it was. Though they clearly had been shock marines, it was clear that they had either degenerated into their current state, or they had been subjected to some unholy energies. Regardless, it was going through them, going over the mountain, or taking another long route to avoid both. Whatever they did, it would be a slog, and no doubt they would be spotted.

Turning his head to face Westenra, Zachariel spoke up.
"I trust you see the same options that face us as I do. Regardless of what we do, we'll run into trouble. It'll be some other force out there if we go the long way, some monsters or shock marines and their forces in the mountains, or those beasts and whatever else they call to themselves. Or more likely, we'll end up fighting and draw attention to ourselves from everything in a clicks radius." Sneering at the beasts off in the distance, Zachariel holstered his new weapons. "Question is then, fast and loud, or slow and quiet. I prefer the former, because we'll run into something loud eventually, that's without a doubt. Still, considering we're going to have to trust each other for the foreseeable future, we might as well work together. Regardless of past... ahem, mistakes."

That last comment was made with a sideways glance at Westenra. He was being truthful, even if a bit pointed and rude.

Xzeench Xzeench | Westenra Mina Westenra Mina
 
Wearing: Gladiator Armor

Armed With Blood Sister

Five Rings

Configuration: Melissa Io (See bio)

Melissa had not actually cared when Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood had throttled her after they had arrived here. She still was reeling from the horrible friendly fire incident she had caused, which had disrupted the very core of her programming, so large her failure was.

Still...what he said did make sense. Xzeench Xzeench could still be alive. Perhaps mitigating her failure was possible.

Westenra only nodded at his words, and decided to take point, her katana held out as she walked the dead battle field...

"Fast and loud. No more screwing around..." she agreed, spotting the undead marines. It wasn't murder at this point. It was mercy.

She sprinted towards her targets, intent on cutting down whatever stood in her way.

The first of the marines met her, and her katana and saber flashed into the weapons of the mutated things that engaged her, katana slashing through their armor brutally at full power while her saber parried or she dodged their attacks. In fifteen seconds the first two were viciously shredded and she then sprinted to engage more, her athletic blond figure a complete blur of death.
 
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The Lord of Fate

The Mutant Shock Marines caught sight with Westenra as she charged forward with little concern for her own well-being. She charged, Katana blade singing as it sliced through Power Armored Flesh and buried itself deep within the bodies of the creatures. Who howled in pain incessantly as they clawed at her in brutish, and unrefined means. Intent in cleaving her in two with their claws.

The Power Armor they wore screeched as the blade was either deflected or implanted within it. It still giving some degree of protection despite it now literally being apart of the mutants before her. The blade cut deep, drawing flesh spouts of unholy ichor with every single slash and stab. However- the Mutants simply /refused/ to be put down. For every tendon and ligament cut, they seemed to be emboldened by the pain. As if it were driving them to fight harder and better. Even though they seemed to slow down for every muscle severed, and arm amputated. They grew more and more tenacious.

Fortunately, a few lucky sword blows seemed to partially decapitate one, and decapitate the other. Sending both screaming to the void. Their physical bodies literally melting into the field of bodies before them leaving only the remnants of ancient armor behind.

The rest were riled up into a fury like no other at this blatant attack. They too charged Westenra, all eight remaining of them. Some literally bowling over others in an attempt to surround her and tear her to pieces. A great howl sounded forth as they charged her. Eyes full of blood and emitting psychic interference that could make even a Jedi Knight cringe in agony.

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A few attempted to close around past her side. Nearing her with shredding claws. But suddenly, Explosive Slug Rounds ripped through the ones who swung first. With follow up shots being taken, blowing off arms and legs with inhuman accuracy. Only then did the perpetrator of these shots reveal himself.

It stepped from the shadows, smoking Slug-Weapon in his hands. His body a horribly mutated mess, though not to the extent of the Mutant Shock Marines. His armor, was different. Appearing almost to be writhing of its own volition. As he shouldered his weapon to fire again, one could see the ritualistic scars dotting his exposed midriff. Each of which showing unfamiliar symbols, of Je'Daii origin. Others were blatantly of Sith. It seems these served a purpose as a protective ward to prevent further degeneration by whatever unholy energy cursed this realm. His face, appeared to be situated /over/ an Ancient helm. With skin flapping over the old helmet to form a sort of mutated head. The voice grill that once housed a vocabulator now changed into writhing teeth and flapping tongues.

This was one of the vaunted Traitors Titus had once spoken about. The ones who turned against the Queen Mother when she attempted to establish a eternal hegemony over the virgin galaxy. For Titus, they were viewed as traitors, and horrible agents of change and pain. But- it seems that an inner look on their story would glean some justification for their betrayal.

Zachariel would easily see him, even from this distance. But he would find an odd feeling in the back of his mind. As if a force were attempting to turn his mind to mush. It whispered great terror at him, and screamed incessantly. Soon Zachariel would find that a throbbing growth appearing beneath his hand. It glowing with unnatural energy that seemed to sap the very essence from him...

As for Westenra, the killing she reaped upon these Mutants seemed to bring her rejuvenation, as if it were numbing the pain of her accidental friendly fire incident and bring peace to her mind. It was scary to think of the horribleness she is perpetration was giving her a calmer mind.
 
Snorting at what Westenra said, Zachariel moved to back her attack up. As they attacked Westenra, Zachariel opened fire with his assault canon, even as he advanced towards his foe. His fire shredded one of the beasts, and wounded another, even as Westenra dealt with the others. The pain and anger these beasts exuded filled Zachariel with a thrill, even as he let cold fury guide him. Directing his fire towards the flanking beasts, Zachariel was surprised when a third party joined them.

Turning his attention towards this interloper, Zachariel found the Force shrieking in pain, even as something tried to claw at his mind. Growling, he activated a function of his armor, pumping himself full of stims. This helped deal with the power in his mind, though he subcounsciously drew upon the Force to empower himself more. That done, Zachariel observed the growth for a moment and noted the weakness he felt. Snarling, Zachariel smashed the growth against the ground, then directed his attention towards the beasts and Westenra.

Holstering the assault canon, Zachariel charged into the fray, sword drawn and heavy blaster at the ready. They'd deal with these beasts, and then they'd focus on the new comer. His opening attack was a quick flurry of sword strikes, even as his blaster shot at the next beast.

Xzeench Xzeench | Westenra Mina Westenra Mina
 
The Lord of Fate
(OOC: Sorry for the delay, there were some. Unforeseen Holdups. I'm back now :) )
Westenra Mina Westenra Mina
Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood

The Mutated Beasts charged past Westenra. In an attempt to get a hold of Zachariel through any means possible. A sizable portion, of about three individuals split off from the main group. And ran at him with scything claws and angry gnashing teeth. They ran forward, only for one to be cleft in twain by Zachariel's massive sword, and another getting fist sized holes blown through its head with Zachariel's Blaster pistol.

The last one got past his defenses, landing a massive otherworldly bite on Zachariel's forearm. Biting deeply into the armor surrounding the region. Just before it got its brains splattered across his armor by a shot from the Friendly Mutated Shock Marine. Game-Ending it in a spectacularly visceral way with its corpse flopping forwards and dropping on the ground.

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As for Westenra, She was beset on all sides by four mutant beasts. One of which having its arm dangling off a tendon, yet still using it like some sort of mace. The claws beset her on all sides. Cutting through her flesh, and healing up almost immediately. However, even a being such as she would not be able to hold on for long. Even as she killed one, by disemboweling it on the spot, and ending another by a swift decapitation. The last one fought to grapple with her. It attempting to stick its tongue proboscis into her eye to suck out her brain. That when Westenra could hear it. Thundering foot steps over corpses. Getting closer and faster. The sounds of ancient armor crunching under its feet, and bones being snapped was all that she could hear while she was struggling with the Mutant beast.

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Then a massive weight impacted the side of the insane mutant. Literally hurling it off its feet and causing it to land in a heap a few feet away. It's armor dented in from the sheer impact. It was quickly finished off with three blasts from a massive slug-weapon. Game-Ending it instantly.

Looking down at the body. The heavily armored mutant marine raised a clawed hand in salute to the fallen. It was likely that they were from the same Ancient battle-group, or perhaps even known each-other. It was sad nonetheless. As she looked up, the figure before her was clad in warped armor. Parts of it showing muscled bare skin which appeared to be as hard as durasteel. It tattooed as previously seen. As he stood before her, a long black tongue slid out of his mouth without conscious thought. Perhaps he was unaware of its movements. He looked down at Westenra and cocked his head visible. The black compound eyes that peered at her didn't seem to hold any sort of soul, never-mind any conscious thought. Then she heard a voice. Deep within her programming.

"I apologise for my Brothers... they lost themselves in their madness."

The voice was... oddly calming. Coming from that face. It was surprisingly eloquent and at ease. Though the creature before her appeared to be horribly disfigured. The voice and mind wasn't. A curse perhaps? Maybe the rules of this dimension? So many questions. Yet so few answers.
 
She savagely butchered the undead. As much as she could find. As much as her arms and legs would allow while using weaponry. Limbs and heads were flayed in half. Anything to forget the fatal and tragic mistake she had made. She was not getting it wrong this time.

Her swords flashed and dashed through thd flesh of abominations, psychically pushing some into debris to impale thdm before slicing them apart. She began to to encorporate what she had seen her beloved sister use in battle. While she could not precisely replicate Laertia Io's sheer ferocity, she got damn close.

More fell. But more began to surround her. Her sword and saber cut into their flesh just as viciously as their weapons cut into hers. Except she could recover from such devastating weaponry.

One tackled her, and she found herself struggling like Jill after The Nemesis crashes through the wall the first time as it struggled to jam a proboscis into her head to suck her brains out. It was all she could do to hold it at bay...even 'she' couldn't survive that...

Suddenly something killed it for her, she scrambled away, pointing her sword at it. Then it communicated with them and reason returned to her programming.

"Who are you? What is this place, and how do we escape? Where is Xzeench Xzeench ?" The Android demanded, terrible ghastly wounds leaking glowing red blood healing rapidly.

Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
 
The battle continued on and Zachariel fought, and he was attacked over and over again. Snarling at the attacks and the one that bit him, Zachariel attempted to throttle it. Instead its head was blown off by the other individual. Snarling at that, Zachariel turned to the others and moved to assist Westenra, cutting through the other mutants as he did so.

As the last beast fell, Zachariel turned towards the new comer. It spoke, speaking of its brothers, and this caused Zachariel to aim his blaster at the individual as well. The voice it had attempted to calm them both, but Zachariels armor instead flooded him with more adrenaline. This counter acted the affects to a degree, but also set him more on edge.

"They lost themselves, yeah. How long before you lose yourself too?" Taking steps towards Westenra, Zachariel stood by her. "And if they're your brothers, why help us?"

Xzeench Xzeench | Westenra Mina Westenra Mina
 
The Lord of Fate
Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
Westenra Mina Westenra Mina

"They lost themselves within their own mind, and their body betrayed them. Unlike them, I am sane. I warn you, this warped place will wreak havoc on your mind, body, and soul. Everyone turns insane eventually."

The very earth beneath them all seemed to shift, as if it were alive somehow. The ground rumbled, and newfound rock statues found themselves among the ten lonely figures. A minuscule detail for some, but a detail nontheless. However, the figure before the two of them appeared to be a grotesque amalgamation of writhing tentacles and a horrible fusion of flesh and iron. It appeared that it was a characteristic of this place. Everything "Warped." It seemed to be a forever sunlit evening. With the sun literally rolling across the sky, back and forth like some sort of demented pendulum. In a moment, seasons seemed to pass, and corpses rot to bones then back to fresh flesh.

The creature before them spoke again, telepathically while its physical form sputtered out some inaudible gargling.

"They were my Brothers. Comrades in arms once. We once fought across the universe to bring the Queen Mother's truth to the masses. But alas, she cursed us. Named us the Traitor Battlegroups and left us to die in this dimension of unparralled suffering and anguish. I feel no guilt for killing my Brothers, as they now can never be saved. But with each death, we pray to the Force to bring us assistance. Which is why I ask, you. Foreigners to this realm and world."

The creature assumed what could be inferred as a begging position, with a hand forward and head bowed. The compound eyes blinked, and the teeth chattered.

"To save us."
 
With their enemies defeated, Zachariel could focus fully on this new party. And he was glad he did so. Laughing at what the being said, Zachariel responded, darkness laced with mirth.
"That's you assuming I'm not already insane."

To an extent, it was true, after a certain age all Gen'dai became monstrous and insane murderers. Zachariel simply was younger than most and had his insanity given and crafted into him. Before he could think further, the ground rumbled and Zachariel turned, weapons at the ready. Instead statues appeared, similar to the beasts they'd just killed. Lowering his weapons, Zachariel shook his head in confusion. He didn't understand it, but it quite clearly showed that something otherworldly was at play here.

Turning back to the being, Zachariel noted their surroundings. It was pure insanity, a warped place, one that was doomed for eternal destruction and rebirth. Certainly nowhere Zachariel wanted to spend his days, but he'd be interested to see what mortals would behave like in this place. Looking at the being, Zachariel sighed, holstering his weapons. Whatever else, the being here seemed truthful, besides, they needed a guide. Glancing at Westenra, Zachariel merely nodded his head before responding to the being.

"Best be glad we're enemies of the Queen Mother then. The frakhead's been trying to kill us for some time now, trying to bring her 'truth' to Cathar and the people again. Honestly, I just want to stab her for what she's done." Grabbing the beings hand, Zachariel dragged him to his feet. "It seems we need each other, all to get out of this hell hole. For now, welcome to our little band of misfits then."

Xzeench Xzeench | Westenra Mina Westenra Mina
 
The Lord of Fate
Westenra Mina Westenra Mina
Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood


The Mutant Soldier didn't respond to Zachariel's teasing. He only wrapped a newfound tentacle which now found its use as his left arm around the muzzle of his Slug-Weapon. Holding it close to his body as he stood straight again. He peered toward Westenra behind compound eyes. Then back toward Zachariel.

"I feel as if there is a missing link. I hear their voice. Lost within the void. Was there anyone else with you when you were transported here?"

The next series of questions were more pertinent as he gestured toward the Swirling Tower of fire and brimstone. The tentacle arm writing in its general direction as it slowly came to envelop his arm straight to his elbow. He started toward it.

"There are others of my kind here. If you have an escape. We want in. We too were betrayed and persecuted because of our ideas of good. However, not all of us have remained steadfastly good. Beserkers. We call them. Formerly Shock Marines of the Second Battlegroup. "Victrix." Obsessed with bloody warfare and rage. They are the most eager of us... I am sure they will find a man of your "Talents" to be sufficient to lead them into war."

He moved up the nearest incline. The muscles in his legs literally making squishing noises as parts of him apparently liquefied and then reformed. Again and again. Sometimes he broke bones with each step. Spines grew from his back and then fell off. Teeth fell out and grew back instantly. It was horrific to witness. Skin sloughing off bones, and fingers and sinews ripping with every step. However, it didn't seem to bother him very much.

He peered to Westenra after a while of walking.

"You are one of the machine born. Cloned of organic matter yet ruined by genetic alteration. Like us perhaps? Where do you hail?"


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After a few minutes, Westenra was afforded a situation to speak. As they soon crested another bone strewn hill they came face to face with a squad of Red Armored Shock Marines. Though visibly less mutated than the warrior before them. Their faces were seen through gashes in their ancient helmets. Sections of their bodies were visible through cracked armor and broken Visor plates. They seemed to be standing over a field of Freshly Killed Catharian Army Troopers. Each of them knelt over a struggling victim, knee against their back. With large serrated knives held at their throats.


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Looking at them from a moderate distance. Stood a well. Mobile fortress. Which could be inferred as being their leader by the amount of skulls and flayed human skin draped over its chassis. It was pockmarked with thousands of years worth of battle damage. Each part as hastily repaired as the last. Mounted on each of its stubby arms sat a large bladed hand. With five fingers and thumb yet tipped with a razor sharp Durasteel Vibroblade. As it rotated around by its waist and looked at the captives.

The helmet mounted in the center of its body seemed to move slightly. Before a voice called from it. Demonic and unnerving.

"Slay them."

In an instant. Six out of the seven of the captives had their throats cut in unison. One or two of them literally had their heads ripped from their shoulders. As they fell forward, dead or dying. The Shock Marines took their knives and began to gut them and behead them. Some were far faster than the others and mounted the decapitated heads on their armor as some sort of sick display of valor. The last. A woman by the looks of it. Literally had the knife slid inbetween her shoulders and had the entire flesh of her back literally flayed off. With the now screaming woman suspended now on the shoulder guard of one of the Shock Marines with a swift spike through the heart.

The skin, was draped over the helmet of another.


Then they Caught sight with Westenra. Cresting the hill first. One of them called out to their leader.

"My Lord! A Challenger approaches!"

The large mobile bunker of a Marine slowly rotated on its stubby feet. It could be inferred that its body had limited mobility in the rotational sense.

"Come! Face your death!"

The Mobile Bunker of a Marine ignited its Vibroblades, with mounted chainsaws roaring in challenge. He let out a bellow of rage and anger as he slapped his chest armor with the vibroblades. Clanging it against it in a sickening display of peacocking. It was Westenra's move now...



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Zachariel nodded to the beast warrior and turned to where they'd come from.
"One of our number, Aravae as you may have heard her be called, was captured before us. We're unsure if she's in this realm, or in ours. Regardless, she's part of how we'll kill the Queen Mother." A dark grin crossed Zachariel's face then. "And when that day comes, I'll take her skull for myself."

Marching along, Zachariel snorted in response to what their new ally said, but said nothign else. All the while he ignored the changes being wrought on the Mutant Soldier. It may be unsettling, but Zachariel couldn't care less at this point. And so he continued on with them, not saying much, and keeping an eye out on their surroundings. When the others spoke, Zachariel listened, if only to help pass the time and learn about them. It was then a thought came to him.

Eventually they reached their destination and the sight that greeted them amused Zachariel to no end. Zachariel felt as if he'd truly fit in with these phsycopaths, after all, they enjoyed what he enjoyed. Slaughter, destruction, and war. As the group noticed them, Zachariel noted that they all directed their attention to Westenra, most likely seeing Zacharariel and the Mutant Soldier as allies. Or at least not enemies here and now. Chuckling at that, Zachariel turned his helmet to glance at Westenra, speaking.
"Well then Westenra, you've been challenged. Have fun with the machine, but don't be afraid to call for help. I'd be all too willing to break it open."

Letting out another dark laugh, Zachariel made his way down and towards the slaughtered army troopers. Grinning at this bounty, Zachariel managed to find one that was just barely on the brink of life, mere moments away from dying. The troopers eyes widened as Zachariel approached, fear etched clearly over his face. Picking up the dying trooper, Zachariel made his way to a nearby rock, seating himself atop it. There he administered a nanite bacta shot to the trooper. It would be enough for Zachariel to ask some questions and have fun.

With his leering skull mask looming over the broken man, Zachariel spoke, voice dripping with malice and darkness.
"This is the part where I ask questions and you answer. Answer correctly and you'll be spared a torture. Can't answer, and anything I don't like? That will result in torture. And I can be very creative." Pulling out a sharp, serrated blade, Zachariel gave it a twirl before holding it to the mans throat. Answers started rushing forth and Zachariel held true to his promise of pain.

Xzeench Xzeench | Westenra Mina Westenra Mina

OOC- Did we ever get a name for him, and if so, what was it again? I honestly can't remember.
 
Westenra remained silent as the mutilated beings explained what they were, what had happened, and the nature of this place...

And now someone else wanted their help...

He was a warped thing, and The Android wondered how sincere he actually was, but as they had little choice in the matter but to listen if she wanted to escape this realm and get back to her Sisters and Mother, Melissa nodded, trying to force out the images of the earlier tragic mistake she had made on the field, following him through this realm of hell and chaos and blood that offended her empathy programming. She felt a deep sense of horror for the beings here who hadn't flipped the feth out, yet were forced to be destroyed and remsde continually.

The horror of the comparison to him hit her as he asked how she was made as they walked.

"I am the Daughter of Nine Lives, Matriarch of House Li-Ves. My Mother's sciences are strange and powerful. I was birthed in a lab inside a Space Castle." She answered quietly as she followed.

The way he broke down and reformed reminded him of all the times she had been horribly injured and repaired herself, when the illusion of Humanity had been stripped away to see the deadly abomination of science underneath.

She stopped the sliver of resentment from building. Clamped down on it. She hated the idea of resenting how Mother had made her, as this thing that could look human, but never truly enjoy what they had. A Princess...but with a life filled with normal people fearing you, fearing what you were.

Only organics like Laertia were comfortable around her, or other Androids. Laertia was so messed up she was incapable of functioning properly in society. With all the enemies she had made, trying to live in an ordinary home would get them targeted.

All she was fit for was operating amongst other killers and abominations like herself. Xzeench Xzeench had been picked by destiny to walk the path of blood. A tragic fate for one so young. Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood had walked it for a long time and clearly accepted it. The original Westenra had been literally born to the path of blood.

They came across a hill of bone and blood. Melissa watched in disgust and horror at another thing her memory banks couldn't get rid of.

The vicious mechanical monstrosity challenged her. Westenra would have his head for what she had seen.

She drew her sword, walked slowly to him. Unable to ignore Zachariel's barb, she rejoined:

"This one? I'd get more of a challenge fighting you. Now, if there happens to be a particularly tightly sealed jar on the other hand...you will 'definitely' be the first person I turn to...I fething hate trying to open tightly sealed jars..." she muttered as she sprinted, launching herself at him with the repulsorlifts in her armor granting flight at high speed, her katana and Lightsaber drawn, in honor of her mother's own fighting style. Her Katana was at maximum setting, to try and sheer through any Lightsaber resistant materials he might have as she directed all her attacks at his chest with superhuman speed, her weapons spinning blurs in her hand. She wanted this beast to die. She wanted everything that made this hell worse to suffer at her blades for their wickedness.

Melissa vowed in that instant to rip and tear, until it was done.

(BFG Division by Mick Gordon Plays)
 
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The Lord of Fate
Westenra Mina Westenra Mina

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Westenra charged forward into the fray! Her graceful movements and steady dodges seemed to throw off the Mech's interred Pilot. Which caused the spikes fired from its palms to sheer past Westenra, missing her by over an arms length. She closed in fast, and the Mech was immediately put on the defensive at it called out to her in taunt.

"COME! DIE!"

As she approached, and flipped upward. It pointed its palms toward her. A brief glow of red was seen as a massive gout of Flame exited from the muzzle of this short range weapon. Blowing upward in a cloud at least eight feet wide. A bright yellow hot flame that instantly turned the sand on the ground before them to glass. Burning hot enough to singe eyebrows from at least fifty feet away.

A small amount of this flame ended up catching parts of Westenra's armor alight. Literally melting the hot metal onto her skin. But fortunately, she made it to the the chest armor of the Mech creature. The helmet that sat in the middle of its chest peered back. She was indeed close enough to see that the face inside was simply only a head. And nothing more surrounded by cabling. That was all she saw through the jet black T-Visor.

She swung with all her might. The sword impacting squarely with the Helmet and slicing deeply into it. A large piece of it, fell away. Revealing the grotesque face that peered back at her.

A face contorted into an uncanny smile of both rage and hate. It too was mangled, not by her hand however. But whatever happened prior to the Man's internment into this engine of pain and suffering.

As she dropped, she landed another blow on the leg assembly in-between the two plates that armored its front. Severed straight through it and sending the walker listing to one side. As it literally grabbed her around the waist with one of its bladed hands, and brought the Flamethrower to bear close to her face. It glowed red. As it suddenly sputtered out a gout of flame that burned the left side of Westenra's face.

It held her up as the flame fuel suddenly began burning across her exposed flesh and melting through her armor. Perhaps in a moment of triumph? Before it would finish her off?

The now exposed head of the Doomed Warrior looked back at her, spouting out toward the heavens.

"BLOOD! LET THERE BE BLOOD!"

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Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood

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Upon closer inspection. The Massacred before Zachariel weren't of Catharian origin. Quite the contrary infact. Judging by their light blue Uniforms, and Beige Combat Pants. Alongside an enhanced array of Plastoid Armor. These were New Republic Army Troopers. From the time of the formation of the New Republic after the end of the Galactic Civil War nearly eight-hundred years ago.

The dead and dying that sat in the dirt wore the New Republic Insignia on their helmets and gear. Yellow in a field of red. Their armor bore resemblance to ancient Alderaan Security Detail Troops. Though, fully militarized for a completely different role. Combat. Obviously, this was long before the First Order destroyed Hosnian Prime.

The one Zachariel picked up peered back at him in a accepting way. The man behind the helmet was obviously nearing middle age. Judging by the wisps of white in his brown hair. But as Zachariel pried off the helmet the rest of his face was shown. Unlike his brethren, wrinkles and old scars dotted his face. Likely because he was an Old Imperial Shocktrooper at one time, or just unlucky.

His brown eyes gave off the impression of tiredness. He spoke in reply to Zachariel.

"Why don't you kill me... I'm done. My time is up. Just end it, so I can see my family again..."

He looked at Zachariel, as if pleading with him. He did loose his entire squad, his family for Force knows how long. But the question remained. How in fething Korriban did Ancient Republic Troops from the Galactic Civil War find their way into this cursed realm? Was it because the Queen Mother trapped them in here? Or was it a spatial anomaly in hyperspace that ended up ruining their plans? What was odd. Is that none of them seemed to of aged since they arrived. Untouched by the corruption this realm brought. Perhaps they weren't cursed on purpose by the Queen Mother, but rather. "Found" themselves here.
 
Laughing at what Westenra said, Zachariel merely nodded in return. He would probably be more of a challenge, seeing as whatever the mech was most likely was crazy as well. And then she was off to face the mech thing, and Zachariel went to his prey. Half paying attention to the fight, Zachariel was hardly surprised by the way the fight was going. Sure Westenra may be taking hits now, but she was sure to break free shortly and kill the thing. Grinning, Zachariel turned back to his prey.

Whoever this man was, clearly he wasn't from any recent times. In fact, Zachariel recognized the armor. After all, he'd killed plenty of them after the collapse of the Empire. At the time, the Empire still payed better than the Rebellion ever could. Grinning sadistically at the trooper, Zachariel chuckled before responding.
"Answer my questions and I'll kill you, let your soul go to Chaos or whatever afterlife awaits those who die here." Hefting the helmet into his other hand, Zachariel observed it for a moment. Then, with ease, Zachariel crushed it totally. "So then little trooper, answer me this. How'd you come to be here, how long have you been here, and what do you know about the Queen Mother?"

Dropping the crushed helmet, Zachariel picked up his dagger once more. Flashing it before the man's face, Zachariel continued.
"Answer truthfully and with answers I like, I'll kill you quickly. Don't, and well... you know what happens then."

Xzeench Xzeench | Westenra Mina Westenra Mina
 
The Lord of Fate
Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
Westenra Mina Westenra Mina

The New Republic Trooper coughed, as he rested his hand on his likely broken ribs. He was indeed suffering. However, he did speak toward Zachariel. Viewing it as a sort of "act of mercy". He had suffered for almost a thousand years, watching close friends die to these horrible mutant creatures. And now, he was finally at ease for now. Even despite the fact he had a serrated knife at his neck. He looked toward the emotionless face of Zachariel. His face slightly brightening as he spoke.

"Time is... relative here. We only aged about a decade here, though I'm sure in the outside it was millennia, or even more... We don't know what the Galaxy looks like now. We only saw the rise of the New Republic. And that's it. We were lost during travel through Hyperspace. Something ripped us from it, and trapped us on this cursed planet. Lost forever. Our ship, A Nebulon K. Was completely destroyed. At the start, there were a thousand of us. Yesterday six, now... Just me. We know of other factions like us out there. An entire legion of Clones from the Clone Wars. Revanites from the Sith Cold War, and Dark Jedi from the Hundred-Year Darkness. All of them, we don't know their wearabouts. But I'm sure... they are all at the Portal out of here."

He pointed to the massive citadel, with a beam of light heading toward the heavens. From here, Zachariel could easily pick out numerous campfires and their smoke.

He quieted as Zachariel asked another question. He took it without question.

"She is the one who thirsts. The Goddess. The Mother of Blood. We've only heard stories. A force of nature as old as the Force Users. We only discovered that the legends were true when she made herself known to us the day we crashed. She killed two hundred of us by uttering two terrible words... It was like... the very life was choked out from them. We only a little... she had twenty sons and daughters. Ten of each. Five of both genders turned Traitor, and that's why you see these horrible aberrations of nature here. We know of two left alive that exist here."

"Black-Wing, Goddess of the 14th Battlegroup "Fist of Likna". She was considered the favorite of the Queen Mother. Good in nature, born to be the nicest out of all of them. Well loved by her underlings. She turned traitor after she found out that the Queen Mother was seeking to replace her Shock Marines with a newer generation of soldier. She's in charge of that Black Armored Mutant that came here with you."

"Then there is Raxis. The Lord of Steel. Bastion of Rage. Lord Commander of the "Blood Marine" Battlegroup. He's the father of these Red-Armored Berserkers. The metaphorical "Blood God" to them. He turned traitor after the Queen Mother snubbed him on the burning of Tatooine. She denied him the honor of massacring the Precursor Rakata."

"The rest, I'm afraid are all missing or dead. Or captured by the Queen Mother. Their legions dead and gone forever. Now... I ask you. To put me to rest. And let me have peace."
 
Westenra's design was rated against very high temperature flames.

But that said, these flames still managed to do damage, melting parts of her flesh even as she closed the distance, mangling her attacker.

He was savage. A beast, a crude fusing of the organic and the mechanical. A stepping stone on the road that led to her. He must have been state of the art in his day.

He was still obsolete.

As Melissa felt her face melt on one side, , she used her psychic abilities to mimic a Force Push that sent his flame jets aside, viciously slicing both her blades into his body repeatedly. Parts of him were dashed off by her strikes even as her flesh started to burn to her skull.

Still, her previous failure refused to leave her. Her Katana cut through the arm holding her and she dropped, before hissing, bearing black metallic fangs at him in her burned state and resorted to full speed, viciously attacking him from every angle she could at superhuman speed, blade, Psychic powers, and sheer android vampire rage.

She wanted this disgusting monster to suffer as she killed it. To know it was going to die on account of its wicked nature. She vowed it would watch as it literally disintegrated from her attacks. She vowed it on the honor of her mother and as a member of House Li-Ves to make these monsters die, in whatever way she could...

Xzeench Xzeench

Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
 
Zachariel was pleasantly surprised that his questions were answered so concisely and so willingly. Usually he had to torture it out of the person, which simply meant an incredible amount of pain towards them. Upon hearing of more individuals out there, Zachariel began to scheme. These people would be useful, a veritable army to level against the Queen Mother. Not only that, but perhaps an army that could serve him in time. Grinning darkly at the thought, Zachariel turned his eyes towards the portal, taking in the sight. Nodding once, Zachariel returned his attention to his prisoner.

There he received more answers, but it also raised more questions, ones this trooper couldn't answer. Taking note of all that was said, Zachariel made sure his helmet was recording so he could view this information again later. Once the trooper was done, Zachariel sat there in contemplation, thinking about all he was given. Then he turned his skull helm towards the trooper and smiled beneath his helm.
"Your help is most appreciated."

And then he sunk his blade into the mans throat, quickly and easily severing his spine and killing him. Under different circumstances, he might've tortured the man for pure fun, but right now he had new plans. One was to end this fight of Westenra and the mech beast, the other of which was to obtain an army. Standing to his feet, Zachariel allowed the body of the trooper to fall to the ground, ignoring it before it even left his hand. Turning to Westenra, Zachariel took several steps closer to the battle and then called out to her.
"Come Westenra, quite toying with him! We have much to discuss and an army to rally!"

Xzeench Xzeench | Westenra Mina Westenra Mina
 
The Lord of Fate
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The Red Armored Bezerkers tore the hearts from the Rebel Troopers, heads from necks, and arms from bodies. They decorated their panoply of bloodshed and rage with the blood of the unworthy and mounted these horrible trophies on their armor. They stood up, screaming toward the heavens as they watched their champion battle against Westenra. Even as he seemed to be loosing, they still screamed praises to their Dark God. They sounded like animals, primitive and weak willed. Animalistic. And driven by pure instinct than any stable minded plan. They cried to their Champion words of praise and power.

As for the Champion Westenra fought. The more his mechanical body was damaged, the more enraged it became. Fighting became faster, and the shouts of anger and hate got louder and louder. Westenra quickly severed the Mechanical's arms from its body as it pitched backward onto its back. Westenra made a mess of trying to cut open the chest armor which housed the pilot.

She sliced through the armored shell in record timing. Easily cleaving through inches of hardened Durasteel plating. Both she and her biomechanical enhancements seemed to make short work of the armor. Revealing what remained of the pilot. All that was left, was a head attached to a mangled torso. With a mess of cabling and corroding wires connecting to the various computational systems of the Armored Coffin that the Mechanical was.

In a mess of instinct, Westenra pulled the Pilot from his protective body. Exposing his bare flesh to the outside world in at least the first time in thousands of years. It immediately began to bubble up as it was exposed to this dimensions warping effects. Creating a massive tumor which grew across the pilot's body in record time.

The second she pulled him free, whatever was keeping him alive seemed to fizzle out. And he died laughing in her face. After a few seconds, the Pilot's remains literally fell apart at her fingertips. Decaying in what seemed to be nanoseconds. Leaving nothing behind, but a skeleton missing its extremities and whatever cybernetics kept him alive.

The Champion was vanquished. And Westenra could sense a weight of freedom placed on her shoulders. As well as a growing desire to spill as much blood as possible. The side affects of vanquishing one of men who literally embodied war and rage.

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The Red Armored Bezerkers were esthatic as they moved over to Westenra. Two of them ripping a corpse in half to get as much blood and viscera as possible before coating her in the blood of the unworthy. They shouted their praise and showered her in gifts of skulls and flesh torn from the Rebel Troopers. It seems they have found a new Champion worthy of their loyalty.

Some tied bones to her armor, others painted it in the fresh blood of the killed. They raised their roaring weapons in salute to Westenra, exclaiming.

"DEATH TO THE TYRANT QUEEN! LONG LIVE THE GOD OF BLOOD AND RAGE!"

Westenra had amassed the loyalty of Ten Blood Thirsty Shock Marines, through trial of combat and nothing more. They all looked toward the Portal. The way out. Which glowed titillatingly in the distance. A new goal. A new place to go for.

As for the dying Rebel Trooper. He was given the Coup De'Grace that he needed. The blade slipped into his neck, severing his spine in one swift movement. Leaving him dead before he could even realise it. A mercy for sure, even for an individual as brutal and calloused as Zachariel. Never the less, the knowledge that he Armed Zachariel will soon prove to be an invaluable asset in the days ahead.

A voice called to Zachariel. The Voice of the Black Armored Mutant who guided them this way.

"Come, we must go. Lest the Queen Mother attempts to kill us on her own volition. It is near. The way out."

The Mutant Warrior moved ahead, Guiding them along as the unstable Red Armored Bezerkers shuddered and twitched from their recent blood letting.

Westenra Mina Westenra Mina
Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
 
The fight between Aravae and the leader of these shock marines ended soon enough, much to Zachariel's joy. The mechanical beast may have been tough, but it had been clear from the start that the pilot of it was... less than stable. Observing what happened after the fight was finished, even as he executed the trooper, Zachariel chuckled darkly. It would be interesting to see how Westenra would react, being showered with such bloody praise.

Dropping the body as he stood, Zachariel observed their ally and their destination. Enhancing his helmets vision, Zachariel took in as many details as he could. Once that was done, Zachariel reset the vision and turned his attention to Westenra. Marching towards Westenra, Zachariel spoke up, speaking directly towards their ally and Westenra.
"In a moment, let's get some things clear first though."

Once he was standing before her, Zachariel spoke up once more, explaining in detail all that the trooper had told him. He told her about the various armies that existed in this hellscape. The clones, the Revanites, and the Dark Jedi. Then he told her about the two living children and that they were no doubt connected to Aravae. Lastly he informed her about the exit, the citadel in the distance. Grinning beneath his helmet, Zachariel chuckled before continuing.
"I'd say we can get those armies to help us fight the Queen Mother. We unite these battle groups to help and we fight our way out. Then we go pay the Queen Mother a visit once we have Aravae, and we break her, and we most certainly kill her. Though I have some ideas on how we should kill her."
Turning towards the mutant warrior, their ally, Zachariel responded to what he had said.
"Well then, lead on. Let us leave this place and fulfill our destiny."

Chuckling again, once the others were ready, Zachariel would make his way towards the tower with this group. They would escape and kill the Queen Mother, of that Zachariel had no doubt. It was simply a matter of how long it would take, and Zachariel wanted the wait to be as short as possible.

Xzeench Xzeench | Westenra Mina Westenra Mina
 

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