Junction As The Dust Settles | Junction of Faldos [FO], Surron [SJC], and Adrathorpe [BotM]

[Tu'teggacha]

Commanding: Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought
Allies: Kyrel Ren | Maestus | Derix Tirall | Darth Solipsis
Foes: Thorne | Gallius Orcana

The whispers of the Dark Voice himself suddenly appeared in the Taskmaster's mind, loud and echoing with power within the confines of his bulbous head. Even brushing up against the might of the Sith Lord nearly drove Tu'teggacha to his knees, exhausted as he was by the battle. Still, he was pleased to see that Darth Solipsis had not only survived but was regaining his strength, enough to take an interest in the goings-on of their retreat from the ruins of Csilla. Solipsis still remained in a bacta tank, recovering from his duel with a Jedi crusader and his brush with death in the void of space. But his dark will could not be denied.

"It is as the Warlord says, my lord," the Ebruchi added when Maestus had finished speaking. "Although we have survived the battle over Csilla, the Fatalis is battered, and nearly broken. We have fallen back to the frontier of Chiss space, but we can go no further until basic repairs are completed. We must hold off any who track us until we can get the Path Engines back online." With a push of a button, Tu'teggacha transmitted all of the damage readouts and repair information to a screen in front of Solipsis, allowing the master of the Maw to see their predicament for himself. Perhaps he would have some insight.

"Our forces took severe losses in the fighting, and we have become scattered during the retreat. There has been no sign of the main Final Dawn fleet, nor of Talon Kyber's pirate armada. Unless we are reinforced soon, we will face whatever threats find us alone." And threats were indeed closing in. Even before Maestus said anything, Tu'teggacha sensed a familiar presence, one he had learned to recognize during the battle: the iron, unyielding will of Gallius Orcana . The NIO commander had been determined to destroy the Fatalis before, and now a desire for vengeance burned bright in his heart, driving him onward.

The Taskmaster knew his foe's dogged determination all too well.

"Most of our Divine Eagle squadrons have been destroyed," Tu'teggacha told Maestus, "but we will deploy all remaining craft as we take up defensive positions. Our remaining Star Destroyers will do everything they can to shield the Fatalis itself. It is vital that the flagship survive, for we carry the Dark Voice himself. No harm can be permitted to come to the Prophet of the Avatars." Though the Ebruchi himself was not a believer in the Brotherhood's dark religion, he knew that it bound them together... and that the loss of its figurehead would lead to fragmentation of the raider-zealot society they had built.

His facial tendrils wriggled in agitation. "I know not what else to do."

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

Fatalis, a Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought	Undergoing Emergency Repairs
Crimson Offering, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Guarding the Fatalis
Severing Blade, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Guarding the Fatalis
Sanguine Cruor, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Guarding the Fatalis

 

[Aayla Shan]

She understood that, but she also couldn't stand the cheek of it. Something at her core believed they should've paid for what they had done. Deeply so... And yet, there was quite literally a gallery of people they needed to save. As he finished speaking his first sentence, she would nod in response; the action likely felt by him through their bond. Though he wasn't the only one with her at the moment.

'You want to fight...'

"Its what I'm good at..."

She responded to Vers mental question with a verbal response; maintaining her flight pattern on Kadan's wing.

'You said Jedi were peacekeepers... Isn't fighting the opposite of peace?'

Aayla's stern gaze on the area ahead broke, gray hues faltering slightly to her own thighs, then snapping back up.

"Look around... That mentality isn't working..."

She responded, holding her ground in the discourse. She knew such things would have been frowned upon by her peers, and most certainly by her betters; but she was past caring about that stuff. Perhaps so it went, when someone like her began gaining the power that was able to change worlds... Change the tides of wars.

'I didn't mean anything by it... I just wish to learn more; your soul is on fire... I noticed it first when we felt Csilla go, like a slow ember... Then... When you received the transmission... You've just been... A little strange Aayla-Senn...'

The ship rocketed forward, still fully cloaked away from sensors, and even the Force; coming to a slow behind Kadan's with a few flips, and switches. Leaning forward in the seat, she would take her second saber, and press it into the Vanguard Cannon's activator slot, twisting it till it locked with a click.

"Vers, stop questioning me... Please"

She said sternly, and yet respectfully. In a tone that wasn't aggressive, but to the point enough to let the spider know she wasn't about to argue with him over the trash of the galaxy and what they considered to be any sort of decent attack on a civilian populace.

'I meant no offense... You know I'll follow you regardless...'

The spiders monotonous and androgynous voice trailed... It commanded a nod from her person, as Kadan asked her to cover him. She spun the X-Wing on its axis, skipping over behind him, and lowering her thrust greatly; merely creeping along behind him. Index finger lightly brushing against her control column and responding to him mentally in turn.

'I've got you, do what you need to do...'

Kadan Scipora (Omitting clogging people with tags for now)

 

[Rolf Amsel]

FIV Braxant Quill | Imperial II Class Refit
​

It had begun with an expression of disbelief. Surely his eyes had deceived him. As the minutes ticked by the realization sucked the air from his chest, the overwhelming gravity of it all threatening to crack his resolve. The number of lives lost in the immediate past, the number of lives yet to be lost - the cost was staggering. "Reconsolidate the men. Rearm and refit. We're not done here yet." he said, the edge in his voice audible. "Get that checked out too. You're not coming with us." Rolf nodded at the FIrst Order Officer in front of him. The Major had gone MIA during their assault of the weapon, he only hoped she'd made it off and back into friendly arms. An involuntary twitch gripped the clenched fists at his sides, a new emotion surging forth and bringing renewed color to his almost ghastly pallor. Anger.

From where he stood on the command bridge of the Braxant Quill he could see the absolute chaos of local space. Debris, chunks of Csillan rock, disabled and mangled vessels floating lifelessly about - only punctuated by the numerous alarms and klaxons sounding as alerts and commands were issued. He heard bits and pieces, fragments of communications. As he stood there time seemed to speed up, bodies bristling past and crew furiously addressing the calamities as they arose. The 9th had been a reserve fleet and the Brotherhood had moved too swiftly. Before the 9th had even arrived in system the world was broken. Jarring the Stormtrooper Officer from his brief loss of self, a shifting of the deck plates beneath his feat set him off balance. "Boarders sir, they've attached to our hull!" an immediate response followed. "Amsel, get down there now! Everything you've got. I'm not letting these bastards do any more damage!"

"On it." Rolf responded, the edge of his voice gone. Replaced by determination. Slipping the helmet back over his head he hit his fist on the bulkhead. "Not today." he grumbled. :: I hope you boys re-armed. Repel boarding, section Three Aurek. I'll meet you there, Amsel out. :: With a grunt, Rolf took off down the crowded corridors as damage control teams rushed about, as he advanced through the maze other troopers of the 9th Imperial Battlegroup fell in on him, weapons at the ready. :: Approaching Three Aurek. :: he aired on comm. :: Be Ready. ::

As they came around the corner, the sight that met Rolf's eyes was one of concern. Corridor lighting had been disabled, only a mere flicker suggesting that the corridor was still powered. Beyond that, a darkness. Not only physical but metaphysical - a darkness that could only be explained by the presence of the Dark Side. Far removed from the Force as he was, Rolf knew little more than a gut instinct that whatever was about to happen was going to be bloody. Very bloody. Raising his voice through the vocoder of his helmet, Rolf and his men raised their weapons.

"Come out now if you want to live, surrender yourselves willingly and I will see you get a fair trial!" Whether that was true or not was anyone's guess but the gauntlet had been thrown.

Kyrel Ren​

 

[Sergeant Omen]

The Clone Trooper twiddled his thumbs as he watched the two fleets come closer and closer together, not close enough to fire on each other but getting into range, almost like two prizefighters starting a match and eyeing up their opponent while waltzing around the ring. They were even deploying fight screens though he didn't know how the Maw could deploy such screens with the frantic repair efforts going on around the dreadnaught's hull. And while it was fun, listening to Maw confidential radio chatter and recording every little tidbit of information that was directly sent to the SJC and friends as soon as it was received, he wanted... no needed some action. He needed to feel the adrenaline of battle again, even if it was in space.

Probably with much difficulty... You know what, nerf this... They either haven't noticed me or don't care and I need to make them care... I need chaos... Let us go to work and show the nerf herders how much they should fear us.

As he turned the thrusters on full burn and raced towards the enemy fleet from up above and behind their formation, he played a recorded message across the broadband. Maybe it would help with morale or again, maybe no one would care but it was worth a shot at giving a smile to those who just lost their homeworld... Hopefully, it would be enough...

"Hello out there! This is Omen, O-M-E-N, coming at you live for deep space nearing the Csilla Sector as I plan a violent attack on those vile people in red skin and bad haircuts that call themselves the Maw. Now I know all you Chiss out there are hurting right now but let me say this, this is not your end. This is a new beginning. There is hope, not everything is lost to the blackness of space. You still have your species that can rebuild anywhere now. You still have that pride in your eye when you look upon each other with a look that says, "Yes we are Chiss and we are something to fear. Nothing will ever stop us no matter what happens, our homeworld blowing up or otherwise.". Because in a couple of hundred years when your great-grandchildren are a part of this galaxy, they will say how brave you were after you lost your home, your family, your friends, and your whole lives. How you never gave up whatever was thrown at you because you know what... You're Chiss, one of the most cunning species in this galaxy. So don't give up hope, you'll be back in the fight sooner than you think, kicking these Maw keisters right back where they came from, and nothing, whether a cruiser, a dreadnaught, or a floating superlaser can stop you. For all those Silver Jedi and First Order operatives and staff out there, your job is long, hard, and will never be done but each job you mark off that never-ending list saves lives, just like those lives you are saving out in that asteroid field right now so keep it up. the fate of the most brilliant minds of species is at stake, people that can help reform the Chiss to great heights even from these long canyons. As for the Maw... @#$!# you, you nerfherding @#!$... You will be destroyed, whether by mine or the millions of people you pissed off enough. You will not succeed in your quest to make the galaxy into a Dusk band. You will not win in bloated out the hope, the laughter, and the light the beings of the galaxies possess. No matter how long you creep out there, you will be found and staked in the heart before being left on the sidewalk like a forgotten fad that has died. No one will remember you, not as a conqueror of worlds but as a sad sad people who had their kicks by dressing up in kinky outfits and pretending to be the next Sith Empire when you are really an insignificant flea out the outer reaches of the galaxy, barking like an Akk dog tied up at a post for attention that will never come. You have been weighed, you have been measured and it has been deemed that your time has ran out! This voice is your omen! And this... is... your... END!"

Point defense lasers started to blast away around the Rebirth as he dived on one of the escort cruisers, the grinding as the bomb bay doors opening music to his ears. The ship started to shake as laser rounds hit the shields but it was too late. The ARC leveled the ship out and dropped all the bomblets he could on the Cruiser's upper hull. Not waiting around for the results, he swung the ship around and leveled the right side of it as another hatch swung open and Ion torpedos zipped out of the vessels' side, aimed right for the dreadnaughts bridge. If anyone was looking into the gunboats cockpit, they would see a gloved middle finger raised towards the Dreadnaught as a relic that time forget laughed a crazy maniacal laugh even as bolts banged off his shields. As the Rebirth zoomed back to First Order lines, music from D.T. Spool and the Skroaches band could be heard across the broadband as Omen smiled brighter than he ever had before.

 

[TK-818]

The wreckage of Csilla was vast and chaotic, the entire system was in disarray. He had been lucky to make it off the battlestation alive before it took off on a collision course with the now defunct homeworld of the Chiss species. Sinh's gloved hand felt along the edge of his mask, that onyx helm damaged from his encounter with Yula Perl and Dagon Kaze . All he felt was rage, he should of felt relief but he couldn't. He had been so close, so damn close. The Shadow was with him, the Jedi within reach.

Never again, he would never allow his prey to escape him again.

Regrouping with the rest of the Knights of Ren and their master, Sinh looked upon the others after the Great Battle of Csilla.

Kyrel Ren , Bendak Crail , Inferious , Rekiro, and himself all brought together within the stealth ship spiriting the Ren away off toward their next move while the Maw Fleet remnants scattered out in a strategic retreat while nabbing up what they could. The First Order's arrival had been a game changer near the end of the conflict and their persistence in engaging the MAW was becoming a liability.

The Night Vulture had delivered the Ren onto the stranded craft, abandoned and left behind. With a clear trap set by the the Master of the Knights of Ren and his loyal Ren, a distress call had been sent forth. All they had to do now was wait for someone to take the bait.

 

[Darth Solipsis]

SUPREME RULER OF FINAL DAWN | VOICE OF THE MAW

​

They had not yet returned to Brotherhood Space, an unexpected setback made worse by the arrival of the enemy who had discovered their location even after traversing a nearby path. Most impressive.

The Dark Lord had little interest in letting the flagship of the Brotherhood fall here with himself onboard. If they were to make it out of this conflict in one piece they would have to adopt unorthodox methods,

“ Tu'teggacha , keep us out of range of their cannons but let them give chase. Keep the Fatalis at arm’s length while we continue the repairs. We will catch them off balance, they will have to board us or engage us with light fighter craft.”

The mental weight of the Dark Voice shifted, pressing against the temple of Maestus ,

“Find a way to contact Gehinnom, have the Monasteries of Slaughter near Rhand dispatch as well. We will need all the aid we can get.”

 

[Karisa]

Aboard the FIV Firaxa
Search and Rescue Operations

​

It had been several hours since Brask'ari'sabosen had given her beloved, Captain Thorne - now referred to with the rank of Admiral, his farewell as the Chiss left the Firaxa and service of the First Order temporarily to take command of the MBC Retribution; his family's jewel.

The Son of House Mitth was taking the fight to the Brotherhood of the Maw to seek vengeance in the name of all the Chiss murdered in cold blood and to hopefully stop the dark side cultists from annihilating another planet or culture. It was a bold move chasing after the Brotherhood's flagship Fatalis further into the Unknown Regions without a sizable fleet to support this endeavor. That vessel had taken considerable damage during the space battle above Csilla by the allied efforts, but who knew what enemy forces were awaiting the Chiss admiral on the other side.

But, if there was one who could handle the magnitude of this task, it would be Mitth'orn'eruod. He was born and trained to fulfill this type of mission. The Chiss had shown his skill time and time again in the battle against the Ssi-ruuk while working side by side with the First Order. Brask'ari'sabosen couldn't be prouder to be associated with him, but that didn't soothe her troubled inner thoughts he might not return to her. It was not the Chiss way to worry about such things. They were a pragmatic people, but the blue-skinned near-humans with glowing red eyes still felt strong emotions. The Chiss were just good at compartmentalizing them.

Though, sometimes it was damn difficult to do with all that had transpired in such short a period of time...

"Doctor... What do you think? Should we continue searching this quadrant or move on?" Lieutenant Lurth asked as the acting captain of the ship pointed to the view screen on his command station. So far there had only been recoveries, no rescues. The man waited a moment for the Chiss' input, and when there was no answer he inquired again. "CMO Karisa?"

Brask'ari'sabosen snapped out of her reverie, then her crimson gaze met the human's brown. "Continue the grid pattern as is, for now, Lieutenant. Though the likelihood at this hour of survival in the vacuum of space even in an environmental suit is quickly abating, we must give due care in the task, No stone unturned as they say," she replied, then added with subtle curiosity. "Has there been any update regarding the location of the Fatalis?"

Lurth nodded as he knew why she was so interested and pulled the message up to display on his data screen. "There was a communique about an hour ago from Admiral Thorne that the Retribution had found the Maw's flagship, but there has been no other information since then. I will keep you abreast of any further developments."

The Chief Medical Officer canted her dark head in thanks. "I would appreciate that. In the meantime, I should contact Captain Reed on the FIV Diligent to ascertain how their search and rescue operations are faring and to see if they are in need of any assistance. I believe they took some significant damage during the battle?"

"I believe you are correct, Ma'am. Our own repairs if we continue on the current schedule should be finished here shortly."

With that noted, Brask'ari'sabosen walked over to the ensign at the comm station who had earlier helped her, unfortunately only to forward the news that her cousin's medical frigate had been one of the many Chiss vessels destroyed in the first volley from the superweapon. Kema'nes'sabosen had been the Chief Medical Offier of the CNS Vun'ruti.

"Please hail the Diligent for me. I wish to speak with Charlotte Reed if the captain is available."

Allies: FO, SJC​

Spoiler

This is the continuation of Karisa's story arc from Head of the Snake: BotM Annihilation of Csilla followed by Stygian Blue.

 

[Maestus]

Darth Solipsis invaded her mind once more. The weight of his invasion pressed outward within her skull, causing a pressure to build. She raised a hand to her temple, scowling heavily. Solipsis could feel her anger building, no doubt. And chances are, he took pleasure in knowing she could not bar him from her mind yet.

Very well, my master.

Was her silent, mental response to him. She attempted to shove him out, but she was distracted by the desire for self preservation, and relented. Soon, she must return to Mustafar. Only amidst the heat and lava could she find the inner strength to overcome his mental attacks. That was what she considered this, an invasion of her privacy. She hated him for this.

Turning then to regard Tu'teggacha , the heavy scowl still on her face.

What are our communication abilities right now? ANd if none, how soon will they be restored?

​

​

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Commanding: Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought
Allies: Kyrel Ren | Maestus | Derix Tirall | Darth Solipsis
Foes: Thorne | Gallius Orcana | Sergeant Omen

The Dark Voice gave his orders, and the Taskmaster obeyed. "As you wish, my lord," he said, though the commands were not so different from what he had been planning to do anyway. He would protect the Fatalis at any cost, even if it meant sacrificing the rest of the fleet's last remnants. Not only was it their flagship, not only was Darth Solipsis himself aboard, so was Tu'teggacha, and he had no intention of dying that day. He had much more misery to inflict upon the galaxy, much more delicious suffering to bestow, before he passed into the Netherworld. With any luck, he would continue to reap sorrow and pain there.

Upon reflection, it was no surprise that even other Ebruchi called him a sadist.

As Maestus received her own orders, she turned to him to determine how she could carry them out. "Short-range communications are intact," the Taskmaster replied. It was what they had been using to request aid from the scattered elements of the fleet that had killed Csilla, from pirates to Final Dawn neo-Imperials, all far-flung now in their flight from the system. "Long-range communications, however, have been damaged. We cannot send a transmission as far as Rhand until they are repaired, and with weapons and shields also damaged, they are not our first priority." In this desperate situation, something had to give.

But perhaps there was another way. The Ebruchi's tendrils wriggled through the air before him as he pondered the possibilities. "Yet the long-range comms may not be necessary. You are strong in the Dark Side, Warlord Maestus. I have seen it. The priests of Gehinnom are steeped in the shadows that radiate from the Holy City, and from Rhand below it. Perhaps, if you were to meditate and direct your dark power..." He shrugged, the implication clear. Technology had failed them for the moment, but the mystic ways of the Force were not so easily interrupted. With enough directed power, Maestus could contact Gehinnom telepathically.

At that moment, the Taskmaster's attention was suddenly dawn away. At first, he thought that the First Order or NIO fleets had decided to make their move... but a quick glance at the sensors told him that he was mistaken. The Maw battle group was under attack... but it was by a single gunboat, a ship less than a hundred meters long. To a standard Star Destroyer, that was tiny, an insect buzzing around a human. To the monster that was the Fatalis, it was less than nothing. The Super Star Destroyer was 216,270 times the size of the Tortured Rebirth... or the "Greenhorn", as the ship had chosen to identify itself in its fake distress call.

The Viper was even tinier by comparison, and the swarm of Gnat-class droids more like atoms.

Still, while the minuscule attack had no chance whatsoever of damaging the Fatalis or its escorts, they might be able to cause some harm to the Brotherhood's fighter screen before they were obliterated. That threat had to be addressed... and someone had to shut up that transmission of self-righteous drivel. "Obliterate that tiny ship," the Taskmaster casually ordered. "The captain's arrogant prattling bothers me." With that, the gun batteries of three Crucifix I-class Star Destroyers opened up on the Tortured Rebirth. A wall of turbolaser fire streaked across the void, reaching for the little gunboat like the sea looming over a sandcastle.

Meanwhile, the remaining Divine Eagle squadrons were launching from the Crucifix Is. The Fatalis had a few intact hangars, but virtually all of its fighter complement had been destroyed in the battle, and only a few of the craft streaked out to join the other squadrons. It wasn't much of a fighter screen, a mere three under-strength squadrons (thirty-one craft in total), but it was all the Brotherhood had available unless and until they were reinforced. Each Divine Eagle, however, was a potent ship. Piloted by elite Knyghts of the Maw who cybernetically interfaced with the controls, they were also heavily armed and heavily armored.

The tiny Gnat-class droid ships surely didn't stand a chance against elite pilots and big guns.

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

Fatalis, a Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought	Undergoing Emergency Repairs
Crimson Offering, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Guarding the Fatalis, firing on the Tortured Rebirth
Severing Blade, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Guarding the Fatalis, firing on the Tortured Rebirth
Sanguine Cruor, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Guarding the Fatalis, firing on the Tortured Rebirth

 

[GAL Ltd.]

GAME ON YAKHEAD!​

Spoiler: SHIP AND FIGHTER MAKEUP

SHIP NAME: ETHEREAL, SILVER CITY
SHIP CLASS: CARRIER, HEAVY CARRIER
FLAG OFFICER: LIRAM ANGELLUS
SHIP CAPTAIN: ZEV TANTOR (Ethereal), GYM HALPERN (Silver City)
COMMAND STAFF
EQUIPPED: 25x L4Vele Series Deployable Defense turrets.
CAPTAIN'S LAUNCH: "Amenadiel"

FIGHTER COMPLIMENT: "VOODOO WING"
CALLSIGNS: Captain Angellus "Maverick" is and will always be "Voodoo 1", Commander Rojuh Pouil "Starlight" is "Voodoo 2" Commander Scoht Pouil "Meteor" is "Voodoo 3". Each Squadron leader makes up "Voodoo Wing", their individual squadrons and make-ups are named below.

HIGH-SPEED INTERCEPTION

1. Voodoo 4(Retribution Squadron)Jackal Class Starfighter
2. Voodoo 5(Jurat Squadron) Jackal Class Starfighter
3. Voodoo 6(Retribution Squadron)Jackal Class Starfighter

LONG RANGE INTERCEPTION

1. Voodoo 7(Gator Squadron) Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
2. Voodoo 8(Raguel Squadron) Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
3. Voodoo 9(Beak Squadron) Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor
4. Voodoo 10(Turik Squadron) Archangel class Fighter/Interceptor

MULTIPURPOSE SUPERIORITY FIGHTER

1. Voodoo 11(Razorback Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
2. Voodoo 12(Voight Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
3. Voodoo 13(Jurist Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
4. Voodoo 14(Fi Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
5. Voodoo 15(Prac Squadron) NC-1 X-Wing
6. Voodoo 16(Tic Squadron) Ashera Class fighter
7. Voodoo 17(Alcalde Squadron) Ashera Class Fighter
8. Voodoo 18(Kers Squadron) Ashera Class Fighter
9. Voodoo 19(Kyber Squadron) Ashera Class Fighter
10. Voodoo 20(Jok Squadron) Ashera Class Fighter

STEALTH/RECON FIGHTER

1. Voodoo 21(Requital Squadron) Azazael class Stealth fighter
2. Voodoo 22(Scimitar Squadron) Azazael class Stealth fighter

BOMBERS W ESCORT

1. Voodoo 23(Que Squadron) Demon Class Bomber
2. Voodoo 24(M'lud Squadron) Demon Class Bomber
3. Voodoo 25(Gatto Squadron) Demon Class Bomber
4. Voodoo 26(Hail Squadron) Demon Class Bomber
5. Voodoo 27(Leigh Squadron) Soverenignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter
6. Voodoo 28(Vulcano Squadron) Soverenignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter
7. Voodoo 29(Bulwark Squadron) Soverenignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter

SUPPORT/TRANSPORTS

1. Voodoo 30(Artillery Squadron) Cherub Gunship
2. Voodoo 31(Ferret Squadron) Cherub Gunship
3. Voodoo 32(Ruzek Squadron) Cherub Gunship
4. Voodoo 33(Ferret II Squadron)Cherub Transport
5. Voodoo 34(Ferret III Squadron)Cherub Transport
6. Voodoo 35(Pulvin Squadron)Cherub Transport
7. Voodoo 36(Gundark Squadron)Cherub Transport
8. Voodoo 37(Terantatek Squadron)Cherub Transport
9. Voodoo 38(Ronto Squadron)Cherub Transport

Spoiler: ETHEREAL MARINES

Seraphim Marines
Powered Armor
Cherub Troop Transport
Cherub Gunship
Saraquael Fighting Vehicles
A-2319 Tanks

Spoiler: ANGELLUS LORE

Is here.

SECTOR: Csilla
ORDERS: Investigate suspicious activity
WINGMATES: Chaussidier Gir Quee Sergeant Omen Tu'teggacha

”What is the guy doing?”

Liram could hear from the comm-station. “The Tortured Rebirth” was basically challenging what sounded to be a Super Star Destroyer.

“Tactical, can we hack the ship’s systems and get a readout of the ship they are trying to go up against?” Halpern called out from the command station. He was still getting used to delegating work to his own XO again, and having command of his own ship when the Commodore was right there. Some flag officers choose to be “hands off”, but Liram is never going to be there, and it is what gains him the respect he has.

“Aye sir, sending to your station.”

Halpern looked over the information and just shook his head, mouthing the words “Are you kriffing, kidding me?” Shaking his head, he waved Liram over to the station.

”What’s going on?”

“That ship that ‘Omen’ ‘O-M-E-N’ is calling to the carpet… it’s over 215,000 times the size.” Halpern sighed. Liram punched up a couple of commands on the holo-vid bringing up Captain Adorn.

“Yessir?”

”Captain. Long range guns, I want them targeted to the coordinates I’m sending you. Captain Powell will be contacting your flight control. We’re going to be giving ‘The Tortured Rebirth’ an out.”

“Flight Control. Stand by for orders.” Halpern called out.

Liram walked over to the Flight control station as Halpern ordered the long range cannons and weapons systems for ”The Silver City to bear on the general vicinity of where ”The Tortured Rebirth” was coming from.

”Send in the Jackals, attack speed random flight patterns. Asheras to follow. Any capital ships in there, send Demons in to target weapons and shield generators. Give the man a chance to get out.”
Liram looked over the theater, they could not get exact readings over who was where that was not SJDF, but he had his gut and the others can help with evacuation, they were as well. However ”The Silver City”, and ”The Ethereal” were going to move in, not on attack vectors, but more security measures, not to mention an ill-begotten rescue.

As the background on this “Omen” fellow was pulled up, Liram was surprised that he was a Clone Sergeant from the old GAR. Perhaps Vanagor knew him, perhaps not. What was surprising about it all was what was the guy doing all the way out here? It really didn’t matter right now as “no man gets left behind”. The thing is, if this ship was so large, what was holding it from tearing into everyone?

Damaged.

Punching up his personal comm-link, he pulled up a couple of familiar visages. ”Admiral Gir Quee , Admiral Chaussidier , sending you data on at least one of the ships in the area. Prudent thought suggests that it would have left by now if it could have, meaning two to three more are kept as sentries. I want to try our hand and daring them to either withdraw or move on us and get caught in the debris field. Orders?”

Spoiler: SUMMARY OF ACTIONS AND LINGO

-Silver City and Ethereal repositioning to cover most likely exits from debris clusters
-Auto turrets deployed for added firepower and increased sensor output.
-Recon and Cover flights deployed to tighter patrol routes

“Red” - Red Alert, distress call.
Tag - Target
Dead Stick - Manual controls
Bug out - Have you not watched “Top Gun”? Retreat.
Situation Report

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Tag@ Chaussidier , Gir Quee , Tu'teggacha , GAL Ltd.
The Rebirth ducked and weaved through the layers of point defense gunfire with all six of his shield generators on full power, it would drain energy from his lasers but he needed to stay living rather than dying. He ducked and dived under and over the Star Destroyers hulls, targeting critical locations on the surface of the craft like engines, comms equipment, and gunnery stations, and most of all, the life support. They can't shoot you if they can't breathe.

More important to the Clone now was the two blimps on his control panel that were coming up behind him, rather fast. He switched his jamming efforts to those two fighters, blasting Baka Rock of the more loud death metal variety into their heads and laughing as he imagined their bewilderment and then cries of pain as the music funneled through their cybernetics burst their eardrums. With the opponents stunned, the gunship faded left, swinging around the two heavy fighters in a circle, and with the Rebirth's rotary cannons and turbolasers firing with all the ship's powerplant could push out, he shot at the two aggressors. One of the fighters was vaporized instantly and the other was winged, his engine blown apart and his craft sent spiraling into the nearest Star Destroyer's body. Just as Omen started to celebrate his first vacuum kills, the missile warning light came on.

"Oh nerf... Oh bleeping nerf... Evade... Evade... Evade!"

Omen counted four missiles coming at him, sent off the rails of the Super Star Destroyer's last remaining missile launchers. It was clear that the Maw had enough of his games. If there was any time he needed the force, it was now. Closing his eyes, he floated down the river of the force, as he dived close to the enemy capital ships, leading one missile to collide into a Star Destroyers' skin. Another hit one of the Star Destroyers conning towers. A third missile hit an astroid as the clone dived into a debris field that surrounded the small Maw Armada for cover. Only the living force could help him escape the force now and it proved a fickle mistress. The Clone focused on the last missile with all of his might, begging, pleading for them to move some other way.

"Come on, come on, come on... If I need the force I need it now... Please... help me..."

But the force would not help him today as the last remaining missile got closer and closer, only to be saved when he frantically launched chaff from the vessel, causing the missile to explode on impact. While the shields barely held the close explosion, the backlash from a blown shield generator caused one of the control panels in the cockpit to explode, sending shrapnel into the ARC's body armor and one big chunk going into his helmet and making a devastating gash down to the bone, the gap in his flesh letting blood trickle down his face. The Clone looked through the red haze of blood, seeing incoming friendly fighters on his screen. Slowly gripping the mic in his quivering hand, he radioed in the Covent fighters "Hey... I... I might need an escort.... All... I see is red..."

 

[Sakadi Marathi Sinvala]

''Shall we?'

Sakadi nodded, her lilac gaze locked on the docking ring's hatch. The evacuation ship they were about to board was an epicentre of the Dark side. It was concerning, considering that the very ruins of Csilla itself were already a turbulent dark shroud in the cosmic Force.

The green flickering light was followed by a beep, and the circular hatch finally opened. They were greeted by a draught as the pressure of the freighter adjusted to that of the evacuation ship. It was dark beyond the hatch, a clear sign that life-support had began to malfunction in this part of the craft. And yet, the oxygen levels were still in a safe range. Odd.

But what was perhaps the most strange and disturbing of all anomalies, was the lack of people. She had half expected the Chiss to have rushed toward the docking ring when they had made contact. But there was nobody here. The blastdoor that led to the main corridor was still closed as well. "Oh I have a bad feeling about this." She conveyed, one hand instinctively hovering near the white-electrum hilt of her lightsaber. She was not fond of igniting the blade, but if it was going to remain as dark on the ship, she would have to anyway.

"We might be too late. I don't see them, nor sense them."

Zorah Cinsilo | Eldervine​

​

 

[Zorah Cinsilo]

Z O R A H  C I N S I L O

Tag: Sakadi Marathi Sinvala | Eldervine​

Equipment/attire: Zorah's lightsaber | DH-17 blaster pistol | Attire​

Location and time: Csilla System​

​

Master Cinsilo nodded as she set foot in the main corridor of the evacuation ship, the cold breeze was what caught her off guard yet she managed to recover quickly and moved further. There was not a single bit of lighting to give them a full impression of the area.

The cold... The air was so cold and dead in a way, yet no scent hinted at the corpses of Chiss, there was something else. Sakadi was correct about one part, the ambiance in this area was ominous and hinted at the danger that may follow. The Jedi Master reached out for her split saber before turning it into two single-handed sabers and igniting them with a simple CLICK! The light orange blade arose from the hilt and illuminated the first area of the evacuation ship. It was cold and grim, not a single motion of life besides that of the two Jedi Councilors.

''It seems deserted, yet... There must be something here, I thought they had noticed something on the scanners... You can stay behind but I have to fully explore the ship. There is more to it than we may think,''

Zorah spoke as she slowly moved further down the main corridor, the sound of the metal floor that moved with every bit of weight that touched it, to the freezing air that circulated in the area. Yet all that could be seen was... nothing, yet there were two more areas in the ship, or at least that we're able to provide shelter to those in the desperate need of it.

​

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Unknown System
Rekiro TK-818
Enemies: Rolf Amsel


Kyrel stalked the halls in the dark, any crew member the Ren could find. They had brutally slaughtered. With the distress beacon activated it would not be long before the first Imperials saw a chance to investigate. Kyrel was reminded of his early life with each insignia that he saw. The familiar designs of the First Order, and he looked upon it all with a sense of disgust. He didn’t wish to be reminded of something that he served blindly only to be used and to gain nothing in the end.

When the enemy soldiers had boarded, they were greeted with darkness, and an eerie feeling. Some emergency lights bathed the halls in a crimson glow. While the Ren remained silent, hidden within the dark. Terrified faces of corpses had remained. Some varying lightsaber cuts, some by other weapons of the Ren, and even chunks of flesh bitten out of them. Blood slowly flowing through the corridors. When one of the enemy soldiers, a face familiar to Kyrel. A face he had seen himself at least once in a former life.

The rest of the Knights remained cloaked in darkness, while the one Kyrel knew as Rolf Amsel spoke calling for them to come out. The undead force wielded seemed more than willing to oblige him. Stepping out slowly. The entirety of the man covered in black. Save for the eyes that showed some of his post resurrection disfigurements. A red blade emerged from Kyrel’s signature lightsaber as he openly revealed himself to the soldiers in a rather calm manner.

“Is that anyway to treat a servant of the Supreme Leader?” He said in a mocking way, keeping his Knights hidden just to toy with Amsel. “I do not believe I will go quietly back to dossun after all. You first imperials would have a field day parading me around publicly.” He said raising his blade. “My boys would very much disagree with that.” Looking around signaling his Ren to reveal themselves openly. Just to think at one point he followed this man’s orders in executing traitors in front of the grand moff. Now it seemed the irony had reered its ugly head.

 

[Rolf Amsel]

FIV Braxant Quill | Imperial II Class Refit

​

Ahead in the corridor something shifted, a darkened cloak slowly taking form as the man beneath it emerged. In the silence that followed, the familiar ignition of a lightsaber basked the shadows in a scarlet glow. Words spilled from the man's mouth, grotesque visage exemplifying all that had been lost over the years, all that had been corrupted and cast aside. A poison could be heard with each syllable, an anger and a violence bubbling just beneath the surface. It was dangerous. The man in front of him was dangerous. Rolf too was dangerous. Before the words from the man's mouth had finished, Rolf had moved his supporting hand, waving off his men. Internal comms chirped as he issued a silent command to his men.

:: Retreat to the next bulkhead, seal the blast doors. ::

The troopers behind him hesitated at first but as Rolf continued to wave them off, they retreated through the airlock behind them. Only once the blast doors had come screeching shut behind him did Rolf breath a momentary sigh of relief behind the faceplate of his helmet. Back to the task at hand. His blaster weapon remained leveled at Kyrel's chest - for whatever that was worth. The others revealed themselves, like their leader - emanating a malevolence rarely matched.

"How unexpected.." Rolf narrowed his eyes. "Parading? Bring you back to Dosuun?" Had the man been able to see Rolf's expression he would have noted a cynical smile and a twinkle in his eye. "You overestimate your stature, Knight of Ren. I have no standing orders to bring you to heel - it seems your own masters have done that quite nicely." Rolf could feel the lick of flames begin to rise within his chest, a fleeting hint of anger adding an edge to his voice. "To what purpose Ren? To what purpose have you cracked the world of Csilla?"

Time. All he needed was a little bit of time. One against one, he might survive. He'd survived worse in the past. One against many... less likely. "Perhaps your bloodlust cannot be sated, perhaps even now you desire to rend me in two. Don't deny it, I can see it in your eyes." It was one thing to look at the man, it was another to see deeper, into the violence that practically boiled beneath his marred flesh. Reaching up again with one hand while keeping his weapon leveled, Rolf opened his fist, slowly reaching to remove his helmet. As it cleared the top of his head he let it fall to the ground. "I don't know your motives - but what have I ever done to you? You would really pursue needless death and destruction? So again I ask you Ren, to what purpose?"

Kyrel Ren​

 

[Maestus]

ABOARD FATALIS
Tags: Tu'teggacha Darth Solipsis

Maestus pressed fingers against her temples. Anytime her master invaded her mind, it brought on a headache. Couple that with the amount of power she would be siphoning into herself and then directing, and she would no doubt end up with a migraine.

She gave Tu'Teggacha a nod, and turned on her heel, robes swirling around her. The Chosen had, by now, removed all dead and injured Heathen Priests. The injured were taken to the medical bay, where a team of medical staff and droids worked tirelessly to save them.

Two of the Chosen fell in step behind their Mistress as she left the bridge. Striding through corridors and hallways, she made her way to her quarters. The Chosen took up position outside the door, knowing better than to dare step foot within without her express permission.

Maestus moved to the small study within her quarters. There was a plush black rug in the middle of the room, with red fibers sewn through out. She went to the middle, and lowered herself to her knees. She was not sure if she could accomplish what she wished, but she would try.

Once kneeling, she laid her hands on knees, palms facing upwards. To her, this represented a vulnerability for when she opened herself fully to the Dark Side. She wanted no hindrances in her efforts. She knew what was riding on this, and it wasn't her master's survival. It was the flagship for the Brotherhood and represented their strength. if that strength was destroyed, it would demoralize the entirety of their armies. Unless and until someone stepped up to take the mantle of leader. She had always planned on doing so. She just hadn't expected the opportunity to present itself this early.

She paused, not opening herself yet, and considered the options. There was nothing stopping her from taking an escape pod, and leaving everyone aboard the Fatalis to their demise. That would leave little opposition to her rise to leadership. Perhaps Kyrel Ren . But the undead creature could be sent to back to the Nether again, if he could not be turned to her side.

She considered the others of the Maw. Tu'teggacha . The Mongrel . Zachariel Steelblood . And countless others. She was not sure who all was on board right now. Truth be told, they were strong warlords, each possessing strengths and capabilities she could utilize. She was not prepared to sacrifice such strength yet.

Taking several deep breaths to focus her mind, she began to slowly open herself to the Dark Side of the Force. She drew it into herself. Feeling it begin to pulse in her mind, heart and veins. She had to proceed carefully, she had not yet drew in the full entirety of the Dark Side that her body could tolerate. She knew she was risking death, but it must be done.

With each passing second, she pulled the Dark Side in more and deeper. Her blood felt like it was on fire. Her mind pounded like a bass drum. Her heart was racing from the exertion. Her will was being pushed to its limits, coupling intaking the Force with controlling it until she was ready. Her breathing was shaking, almost gasping for air. But she reused to stop or give in to things as simple as physical discomfort. She was a Sith after all. Such things were beneath her until they killed her.

She pulled the Dark Side into herself for longer than ever before, and deeper than ever before. She could feel it deep within. A powerful, pulsating feeling. Begging to be unleashed. Begging to do her bidding. And finally, she released it.

She focused solely on Gehinnom and the communications there. She searched the Holy City mentally until she found a communications officer at his post. She slammed into the poor sot's mind with such force and power, he was thrown from his chair in pain and shock.

Contact the Monastaries of Slaughter, near Rhand. Dispatch them to these coordinates.

In his mind, she would deposit the coordinates for the Fatalis location. And as suddenly as she came to the comms officer, she released him and returned to her own body. She had never attempted such mental control before, and considered this an excellent first endeavor.

Then Maestus collapsed from the exertion, utterly exhausted.

​

 

[CETCOM]

UNKNOWN SYSTEM , CHISS SPACE
On board the Purifier...

The Battle of Csilla , perhaps one of the largest Battles in known Galactic History. Here the Brotherhood of the Maw revealed it's newest Superweapon , ironically dubbed the Mercy and with the support of a Sith Coalition waged a mighty battle against essentially the entire Galaxy which had united against the Mawites and their Sith Allies. And against all odds , the Brotherhood of the Maw managed to destroy Csilla at the cost of their own super weapon , being the first Galactic Power to destroy an entire planet in centuries even succeeding where former Sith Emperor Carnifex Failed a few years prior.

While the destruction of Csilla was a great achievement for the Brotherhood of the Maw , it came at a price. The Mawite Fleet had been decimated by the Anti-Mawite Coalition and was left scattered as a result of the Battle. The Maw Irregular Fleet was no stranger to such devastation. Having entered the battle with 16 Ships at it's disposal the Irregular Fleet was now in disarray with only 7 Vessels , less then half of their original force remaining. In addition to this , the Remaining Ships of the Maw Irregular Fleet had suffered intense damage during the Battle and were still undergoing emergency repairs.

However word quickly reached the Remnants of the Irregular Fleet that the Main Flagship of the Brotherhood , the Fatalis was under attack by combined First Order and New Imperial Forces with the Fatalis holding the Final Dawn's Supreme Leader himself. Despite not having completed their repairs , the Irregular Fleet had no choice , the Supreme Leader was under siege and his security was the utter-most priority for the Final Dawn. Thus the order was given , and the remnants of the Maw Irregular Fleet soon jumped into hyperspace headed towards the location of the Fatalis.

Soon , the remnants of the Maw Irregular Fleet only at 9% integrity jumped out of hyperspace within the system in which the Fatalis and it's small escort were currently positioned in and quickly moved forth to approach the Flagship of the Mawite Fleet. However they had jumped thousands of kilometres away and the damage suffered from the Battle of Csilla had taken it's toll on the Irregular Fleet rendering it's ships slower then they usually were. However nevertheless they were there and they were ready to protect the Fatalis at all costs

Quickly High Overseer Traaval Pryce , the Commanding Officer of the Maw Irregular Fleet sent out a message to the Fatalis in order to inform them of their arrival. "This is High Overseer Traaval Pryce of the Purifier to the Fatalis , the Maw Irregular Fleet has arrived in the system and is moving forth to reinforce your position.". Traaval Pryce then turned to the Bridge's Viewports looking at the Fatalis and it's Escort Fleet along with the New Imperial and First Order Forces that had arrived to destroy it. The Battle of Csilla had ended in a pyrrhic Mawite Victory , but a new War had just began and it would be more devastating then anything the Galaxy has seen to date.

Tags[BotM] | Tu'teggacha | Darth Solipsis | Derix Tirall
Tags[FO/NIO] | Thorne | Gallius Orcana

Spoiler: Maw Irregular Fleet

Maw Irregular Fleet | 9% Integrity ​

Ship Class​	Status [HP | Shielding] ​	Actions ​
Ressurection-Class Battlecruiser [The Purifier]	51|16 ​	Heading towards the Fatalis
Avenger-Class Star Destroyer	33|11​	Heading towards the Fatalis
Avenger-Class Star Destroyer	27|22​	Heading towards the Fatalis
Avenger-Class Star Destroyer	29|6​	Heading towards the Fatalis
Crucifix-I Class Star Destroyer	52|16​	Heading towards the Fatalis
Crucifix-I Class Star Destroyer	23|18​	Heading towards the Fatalis
Velex-Class Star Destroyer	18|12​	Heading towards the Fatalis

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Commanding: Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought
Allies: Maestus | Derix Tirall | Darth Solipsis | CETCOM
Foes: Thorne | Gallius Orcana | Sergeant Omen

That little speck of a gunboat was certainly making itself a nuisance, if not anything more than that. It had an astounding number of shield generators for such a small craft, though that wouldn't matter at all if even one of the capital-class turbolasers scored a direct hit; they were meant to rip apart ships many times its size and strength. Somehow it danced around the Star Destroyers despite the fighter screen and heavy point defense fire. The pilot must be a Force adept; no ordinary man could survive this. He was shooting at the capital ships, an effort rather like a mosquito biting at a human, thinking it could somehow kill it.

If a lone gunboat could possibly blow up a Star Destroyer's life support systems, why would anyone ever field capital ships? It would be idiocy. Armor plating thicker than the entire length or width of the gunboat protected the massive ships' frames, and even shields that had taken a beating could hold out against a single craft thousands of times smaller shooting at them; they'd be pretty worthless if they couldn't. Still, a few lucky hits slipped in where the big vessels had already taken damage in the battle above Csilla, widening holes in their hull plating or finishing off damaged guns. That was a tremendous irritation.

The gunboat and its swarm of tiny droid fighters were more effective in disrupting the already-thinned screen of Divine Eagle interceptors. Aboard the Fatalis, Tu'teggacha winced with each craft destroyed, knowing that every one of them was a loss the Brotherhood could ill afford. Thankfully, the little kill streak was short lived; the enemy vessel appeared to suffer some kind of system failure, veering off course with internal damage. Having somehow evaded a barrage that could destroy dozens of ships like it, it had finally pushed itself too far. Hopefully it and its pilot were out of the fight, streaking off in an unknown direction.

That accursed little ship and its tiny droids, which would present little threat to veteran aces cybernetically linked to their targeting systems, were still the only ones to have attacked; the other fleets remained at a distance, perhaps preparing to move in all at once. Until then, Tu'teggacha had other concerns to deal with. He could sense Maestus drawing in tremendous dark energy, a swirling mass of shadows sufficient to streak across the galaxy. It built and built, becoming a terrifying pillar of vile power, until suddenly... finally... it streaked away, bearing a message to Gehinnom. With any luck, that would save them.

At that very moment, more help arrived: the ragged remnants of the Maw Irregular Fleet, looking just as beaten and bloodied as the Fatalis and its escorts. Still, there was safety in numbers, and their numbers had just increased markedly. Perhaps they stood some chance against their pursuers now, if the enemy flotillas decided to push them. It might at least hold back the dogged Orcana for a little longer. All they needed was enough time to either get their path engines operational or receive reinforcements from Brotherhood territory. "Welcome, High Overseer Pryce," the Ebruchi replied. "It is good to see the Purifier intact."

Tu'teggacha's gaze swept the bridge. "Continue repairs, but prepare for further contact."

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

Fatalis, a Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought	Undergoing Emergency Repairs
Crimson Offering, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Guarding the Fatalis
Severing Blade, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Guarding the Fatalis
Sanguine Cruor, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Guarding the Fatalis

 

[Sergeant Omen]

​

​

As the blood flowed from the clone's head as piloted towards the incoming SJC fighters but the picture in his brain slowly started to change. As red liquid ran onto the floor back to 800 years ago, to the Clone Wars. The assorted SJC fighters became V-wings, ARC-170s, and Y-wing bombers and the fleet behind him became an assorted armada of CIS warships, of Providences, Munificents, and Recusants, all bent on destroying the Republic fleet that wasn't so far away. And then he saw something that made him narrow his eyes in pure hate. 2 pairs of Rogue-class starfighters were moving from either side of the Republic Starfighter line, using the asteroids for cover against the Republic fighter detection hardware. He couldn't let any more of his brothers die, he had too many deaths on his shoulders already. No... NO MORE DEATHS, NO MORE DEAD FRIENDS. NO MORE REPLACED LIMBS. NO MORE SUFFERING!​

​

He went around the line instead of through it, targeting the two fighters with turbolaser blasts and shooting them enough to make them crash into the new rock field that their masters had created before circling the formation with his engines at full blast and targeting the second pair of fighters with his bomblet launchers set in torpedo mode, sending enough firepower their way to make both fighters blow up by themselves. The ARC then turned back around towards the hail of point defense fire the four main enemy ships were putting up. If he sacrificed himself, throwing himself into the enemy Providence's Dreadnaught's bridge, maybe he could kill off the enemy's leadership, maybe he could make this conflict end before it even had begun. It was too late for Csallia but if only he could halt the CIS fleet and let the Republic get organized. He roared into the comms as he dodged and weaved through the flak fire with some stray shots grazing the hull and making pot marks against the paint, firing his own turbolasers in protest. The strange gunship was getting closer and closer to the Dreadnaught's bridge before in one last release of frustration, anger, hate, and grief, he could only yell "YOU... WILL... HEAR... ME!" at the top of his lungs across the broadband, shooting straight at the capital ship in a game of nuna that both parties were going to lose something in.​

​

At the last minute though someone not in his own voice spoke into his head. It was close to his own, maybe another GAR clone... In fact, it sounded a lot like... Bolts... "Don't do this." it pleaded "You have so much yet to do for this galaxy, you only have to wait and see." Well, who was he to argue with his best friend's voice in his head? At the last possible millisecond, just as he saw a tentacle-faced alien brace for impact, he pulled up against the yoke and scraped against the bridge's hull and viewport, before twirling the beaten gunship a couple 180 over the enemy's durasteel hull and giving it even more holes in its shell using whatever weapons he had left. When his attack run was done, the ARC could only pant heavily as more and more blood left his head and turn back around to the fighter, fire starting to blaze against his hull as the turbolasers of the enemy blazed into the dark reaches of space toward the "Rebirth", giving it no quarter. The blazing gunboat raced back towards friendly lines as its pilot closed his eyes, letting the darkness overtake him. The clone's last thoughts were to thank his friend for saving him from a pointless death. Only others and the will of the force could save him now.​

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Unknown System
Allies: Maestus , Tu'teggacha Eldervine
Enemies: Rolf Amsel


The undead creature stood before the First Imperial. Not phased by the sense of caution and the need to defend against the likes of Kyrel. He should know having served with Stormtroopers before. The man spoke referring to Kyrel as only "Knight of Ren" To know of what he and the beings that stood with him. Something that in itself was in a way surprising. Perhaps the one that stood before him was someone of whom saw and stood with the Knights of Ren. Someone that had managed to survive the fall and returned upon the resurrection of the First Order, oh how he loathed it. He had loathed to see such a state he had once blindly follow rise as he did.

Perhaps given the man addressing him as Knight of Ren, and not by who he was, further explained that he was forgotten in a way. Something that could play into his advantage as the First Order did not seek to hunt him, good for him and something of which he would make sure they would suffer in the future. The man continued to speak, further asking on why he destroyed Csilla, as if seeking some ultimate truth that the Maw had not carved already. He only remained silent, the man starting to goad the Master of Ren. As the anger was rising in earnest as the goading went towards Kyrel's own desire to kill him. When he was finished there was silence for the moment. Before it had all ended by some sort of insane laughter from Kyrel's lips. "Hahahahaha, most of that is right, yes." There was a pause in his own words, as his gloved hands reached for his mask. With a snap hiss what stitched up metal covering the visor had lowered itself. What the soldier would see was a disfigured and by most parts unrecognizable and horrifying face. His lips were twisted as was his jaw, stitches had decorated his face. It all had shown clearly that some type of experiment had taken place.

He finally spoke his lips doing it's best to make a sort of twisted grin. "Render you in two, no I think not. You see I intend to devour you." He said calmly, coolly as if had all seemed casual to him. Adding to the unsettling nature with a toothy smirk, or what was left of what looked to be darkened teeth, his tongue sneaking out to lick his lips as if the stormtrooper was appetizing to his never ending hunger. Such was the price for returning a walking corpse. When the man again asked for such purpose was behind Csilla's destruction. Kyrel pondered for the moment, whether or not simply killing him at the current moment, but wondered what would the harm be in indulging him before the real fun happened.

"Purpose you say? Perhaps I will tell you, before my boys and I kill ya and I end up eating you anyways." He paused again momentarily as he decided to go into a pacing motion around himself. His eyes always set on the Stormtrooper never leaving as he spoke. "For years I felt something, or someone call to me deep in the Unknown Regions, years after the Order fell and I myself was a Warlord. You see I long hunted for this source of what was within... That my friend was the Maw... But I didn't find them in life, oh no it was in death I found them. Csilla's destruction was the shape of things to come. What we have unleashed with weapons not wielded in centuries will echo across eternity. The time for judgement has come upon you all! Through death such as Csilla the galaxy will be purified, and make no mistake the First Order is on top of my list... Soon it will all be mine." The last words that came was not filled with the same fiery convictions and beliefs of the Maw, but as if he had been a worshipper that had seen things others had not. With Kyrel slowly advancing on the man as if he was about to strike.