Populate C U L T | BotM Populate of Kinoss

[The Messenger]

After
Invasion: Cleansing Fire | Jedha
Invasion: Woken Furies | Nirauan
Faction: Unearthing Horror
Faction: Proving Grounds | New Sith Order
​

C U L T​

The Second Great Hyperspace War continues to rage violently as the Brotherhood of the Maw return to Chiss Space after fearsome strikes on the Galactic Alliance protected world of Jedha and the New Imperial fortress world of Nirauan. The Dark Crusade continues to build momentum, yet rising tensions and numerous losses in manpower have proven to become a concern to the Heathen Priesthood and their Dark Voice. The Dark Lord of the Sith and Voice of the Maw, Darth Solipsis , recognizes the growing power of the New Sith Order their affiliates in the Church of the Dark Side and the Neo-Imperial Final Dawn has sparked tension with the tribal fiefdoms of the warlords, the pirate clans, and the numerous dark cults such as the Sorcerers of Rhand and the Knights of Ren whom would see this new breed of Sith perish alongside the old order.

As the single largest conglomerate of adherents to the Dark Side of the Force, and the largest collection of powerful Sith in the galaxy it is easy to lose sight of their mission and plunge into civil war. A folly that all who before them had succumbed to, yet the Dark Voice in all his wisdom has devised a strategy to mend the growing divide and help repurpose the numerous marauder hordes into a collective body. With each world they collect more and more slave-soldiers, create new workers or strandcasts, even recruit among the galaxy’s strongest. If they are to come out on top of the Great War they must be able to fight as one, and not divided as they had been.

The answer had always been in front of them, structure, purpose. The answer was inspired from the past, the present, the Krath.

The Dark Lords of the Sith, Darth Solipsis and Halketh , called for the former Queen of Empress Teta Dyans Keto after a number of trials for members of the New Sith Order was staged. In the depths of the Sith Citadel on Exegol, they restructured the Maw’s war bands and presented their decision to the Warlords who ruled the realm. Each fiefdom would supply troops to the Maw Holy Crusade, each would retain their place in their fiefdom and represent their masters in the Great War but united under one banner indivisible and the universal belief in the galaxy to come. The forces of the Hidden Maw all shared the vision of the Dark Voice and the belief in the destruction of the galaxy so a new dawn can rise, it was time to commit to the idea and make it a reality. It was time to bring an end to it all.

While many were initially apprehensive it was agreed upon unanimously by the many warlords after Zachariel Steelblood revealed the ultra-modernization of the Bloodsworn military forces already under way. Not wishing to be left behind or fall prey to the once again rising power of the throne of Osseriton, the ranks of the Mawite horde fell in line with the vision of Dyans Keto who began the official organization of the Maw Holy Crusaders as her ancestors once organized the Krath Holy Crusade.

The time has come. The innumerable horde gathers over the now occupied Chiss Expeditionary Defense Force depot on Kinoss where the head of the modern incarnation of the Krath Cult Dyans Keto organizes a rally of the Holy Crusaders, preparing them for their next strike against the Core Worlds, the Outer Rim, and the Tingel Arm where they would strike next against the Ashlans in their cradle of power.

Rally alongside your brethren, prepare for war.
Divide the spoils of Chiss Space, plot alongside the mighty Warlords.
Stand beside Dyans Keto and inspire the horde.

There has been sightings of surviving CEDF ground forces in the northern tundra, Politorate intel from the FINAL DAWN suggests an underground base still exists that has yet to be discovered and may rest in this vicinity. If this is true, then the Chiss rebels must be rooted out and ‘rejoined with the rest of their kind’. All biological material must be collected for continued development of the highly sensitive and successful Electra series Chiss Strandcasts. Expect a siege, air defenses and ground forces held up by snow fortifications, it didn’t work on Csilla it won’t work here!

Hoth style battle for CEDF hidden redoubt, root out the last of the Chiss on Kinoss.
​

 

[Alexander Garrick]

​

The Ommin-Class Infiltration Shuttle soared over the frozen tundra with TIE/fd escorts in tow, purge troopers ready for deployment as scouts, Mawites, and Cultists gathered on the far side of the planet or aided in the participation of this assignment at hand. The final hammer blow to the CEDF remnants on Kinoss, their time had come.

“Scans indicate a fortress beneath the snow. By the Gods of the Sith, we shall make root out their pestilent nest. Make the remainders hiding in Alliance and Imperial space know our name, for the Dawn!”

The cabin roared.

“For the Dawn!”


Electra-12 | Electra-13 | Marlon Sularen | SUCO

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective: Test the reborn Bloodsworn and kill the Chiss
Tags: Alexander Garrick
Links: Weapons | Chosen | Helmets​

War, Death, and Rebirth came for all, especially those within the Brotherhood of the Maw. It was simply natural, they would wage war, kill and be killed, and be reborn after the bloody conflict. To that end, no conflict had been bloodier for the Bloodsworn than the invasion of Nirauan. Of course they had fought before that conflict, had lost many a warrior over time, but never so many, and never so thoroughly. Nirauan had been the death knell of the Bloodsworn as they were, and after the conflict they were reborn.

Having seen the losses inflicted upon his warband by DECEASED Erskine Barran , Aurelian Sigismund , DECEASED Aron Gowrie , and others, he had known they must change. The fortress city of New Carannia contained true soldiers, warriors with few equals. They had hurt the Bloodsworn very thoroughly, proving that their prior tactics would no longer work, and they must adapt and change. Zachariel had seen this, as had many of his Chosen, and they had changed the Bloodsworn through much tireless work. Now, they were no longer simply the warband of Zachariel Steelblood, they were his personal army, and they would see the galaxy burn in the name of their master.

They would prove themselves once more on Kinoss, aiming to take down the final redoubt with fire and controlled fury. Streaking forth from various starships, two dozen landers made their way into Kinoss' atmosphere, the screams of the damned echoing out across the landscape. They ignored all flak fire, trusting in their armor and shields. This faith was well founded, as not one lander was destroyed, even as they soon settled onto the ground of Kinoss. Landing in two staggered rows, they dropped their disembarking platforms at the same time, showcasing dark interiors.

From the dark abyss of the front row emerged the Bloodsworn, marching out in lock step of various squads. They came forth bearing assorted weapons held at parade attention, all wearing armor and skull masks, along with various marks of helmet. Emerging as one, they marched out and formed up in a way that was very reminiscent of true military units. Before their landers, they came to rest once more, standing in parade formation and awaiting orders. Behind them came the vehicles of the Maw, bearing the iconography of the Bloodsworn. Slipping through the paths left by the Bloodsworn, these vehicles came to a rest before their lines, facing towards the general direction of the final defensive base on Kinoss.

Then, he emerged. Striding forth with all the confidence of a god, Zachariel emerged from the central lander, followed on all sides by his Chosen. Stalking forward, they passed through the center line of Bloodsworn, and once they passed through, they simply continued on. All around the Bloodsworn shifted, even as the vehicles strode forth in lockstep with Zachariel and his personal guard. They moved in sync, scanning the area before them as they advanced. Behind them marched the Bloodsworn, having spread out into combat formation.

This was the new face of the Bloodsworn, bloody handed discipline to rival any standing military, coupled with fanaticism and zeal to outstrip any zealot. They were put a part of the forces Zachariel was amassing. Having been decimated by Nirauan, they were regrowing their ranks, but those present were veterans as a result, and they would let nothing hold them back. The fire in their eyes was to see the galaxy burn, the zeal in their hearts was that of zealous loyalty and fear. They marched to bring death and damnation to all, led by demons from the Nether, the reborn Bloodsworn would raze the remaining Chiss base to ash. For their lord and master, for the Maw...

Blood for the Blood God, blood for Zachariel Steelblood!

 

[Electra-12]

Location: En Route to Underground Base - Kinoss Lower Atmosphere
Call Sign: Nacheria Seven
Objective: Close Air Support
Equipment: TIE Pilot Flight Suit │ Hekler’Kok FP-01
Tags: Alexander Garrick Electra-13

The searing, ancient howl of twin ion engines filled the cold air of Kinoss’ atmosphere as the last vestiges of the CEDF amassed for what could very well be a final stand against the dark, unholy forces of terror and purgation sweeping through the Unknown Regions and beyond. In all likelihood, it would be a hopeless effort, a matter of pride for those few souls who had either refused or were unable to evacuate from Ascendancy territories in the wake of Csilla’s destruction. Given the loss of their homeworld, the Chiss had done well to last this long against the rampaging forces of the Maw, which was why so many had been subsumed into the Brotherhood, to serve the Holy Crusade.

Electra-12 was naught but one of their number.

In truth, she had little connection to the Chiss as a culture and a nation. That connection belonged to her template, Pommrio’electra’kali, an ozyly-esehembo who had been captured on Copero and brainwashed to serve the Final Dawn in the capacity of a Force-sensitive navigator. Electra-12 and her other non-Force-sensitive sisters were cheap copies by comparison, byproducts of the attempts to clone more invaluable sky-walkers. Nevertheless, she was given a purpose in the Final Dawn’s war machine, where otherwise her body might have been ground into nutrients to feed Drudges.

Behind the control sticks of her TIE/fd, Electra-12 gazed through the octagonal viewport as she broke through the cloud layer, the snow-white surface coming into view before her eyes. Ensconced inside the craft’s spherical cockpit with twin laser cannons and missile launchers under her command, the tiny strand-cast’s size was of no hindrance to her at that moment. The TIEs were a chilling sight for the CEDF forces on the ground as they waited for their deaths, knowing that the end of the Ascendancy was upon them.

“Scans indicate a fortress beneath the snow. By the Gods of the Sith, we shall make root out their pestilent nest. Make the remainders hiding in Alliance and Imperial space know our name, for the Dawn!”

“For the Dawn!” Electra-12 answered in eerie cadence with her squadmates and the Purge Troopers inside the shuttle. As she did, the Chiss drove her TIE ahead of the formation, leveling her wings to be more aligned with the surface in the process.

“On me, 13.” Electra-12 said to her sister and wingmate. “Let’s see how long it takes to draw out their Clawcraft aces.”

If there were any left to be slain.

Spoiler: Loadout

• TIE/fd Space Superiority Fighter
  • Axial Missile Launcher [x2]
    • Proton Torpedo [x4]
    • Proton Torpedo [x4]

 

[Electra-13]

Location: En Route to Underground Base - Kinoss Lower Atmosphere
Call Sign: Nacheria Eight
Objective: Close Air Support
Equipment: TIE Pilot Flight Suit │ Hekler’Kok FP-01
Tags: Alexander Garrick Electra-12

The warning signs of their approach were limited. The only real alarm to their arrival was the promise of violence that sang with the roar of their twin ion engines and great machines of war that settled upon the next planet to be plundered of any viable goods. Whether flesh or inorganic, the planet would not see peace until it had given what was required.

The cloud layer hid them well on their descent, the snow-white surface coming into view before her eyes. The Electra clones had been called in to reap their own brand of chaos and destruction upon the planet. To bring their predecessors to heel, or to wipe them from the galaxy. But all to make more for the Final Dawn, to collect more material and continue to create their engines of war.

To produce results and secure that peace that was so vehemently deserved by the rest of the galaxy.

To give those downtrodden and ignorant beings the peace that they did not deserve or seem to want. But what was the point in creating peace when those foolish enough to not seek it in the first place got in their way? The truthful answer was a simple one. A resounding and matter of fact answer.

You remove them. Replace them.

There was a reassurance in what she was doing. That the actions she and her sisters were engaging in would better the universe and silence those without the ability to see the grander scheme of things. Would enable even the farthest flung planets to know peace when all troubles had ceased in the wake of the Final Dawn. Which was why when the cadence reached her ears, she repeated it with a bright smile.

“For the Dawn!” Electra-13 answered in that same eerie cadence as all those voices had in her ear. 13 watched 12 pull ahead and mimicked the movements, if only to keep herself better positioned for any surprises they might encounter.

“Solid copy, 12.” Electra-13 said to her sister and leader. There was a mild concern in the back of her mind about her presence here. She had earned the nickname 'Spiderbait' for a reason. But surely her sister wasn't going to capitalize on that...right?

“You think any still exist after the first round? Thought they'd all tuck tail and rip up their own wings than fly again.” Electra-13 snarked over the comm back to 12.

Spoiler: Loadout

• TIE/fd Space Superiority Fighter
  • Axial Missile Launcher [x2]
    • Proton Torpedo [x4]
    • Proton Torpedo [x4]

 

[Dyans Keto]

Post: 1
Tag: Darth Solipsis | The Mongrel | Zachariel Steelblood | Halketh

​

The sounds all around Dyans were wild a ruckus, her emerald eyes peered out for second from the small building she was housed in. There were many war bands gathered here, more than Dyans had expected, though still many were missing as well. She had been at the coronation of Exegol making it the crown world of The Maw Territories, yet while she was there never truly saw the entirety of the Maw. Even now this was not the entirety but massive portion of its manpower. What a few war bands and raiders had put together was truly magnificent in it's own right. Though with time everything had to change and evolve become something stronger than it was before.


As she pulled her gaze away, she looked to man clad in shiny golden crusader armor. The man stood silent and at attention with his Sith War Sword propped at his side. Dyans slipped on her a pair of black gloves over pale skinned almost translucent hands. Then her voice stern and authoritative spoke to the soldier at attention. "I'm Ready!" He nodded his affirmation then moved towards the door Dyans moving in file behind him. The man in front of her outstretched his weapon giving the signal and a trumpet sounded loudly across the area where the war bands had gathered.


As it sounded the War bands began to quiet and turn their attention towards the front of the makeshift Amphitheater. As they did the soldier at the door which Dyans stood behind turned his weapon slightly and music began to play. Oh, how Dyans missed the art of Royal theater, the presentation of oneself to the masses was half the battle. You need to show power and strength with out come off as to pompous and arrogant. You need to show them you were their leader and their benevolent benefactor, but you didn't want to push it to the level of resentment. To kind the masses grew fat, lazy, and weak. To authoritative the masses saw you as their jailer and enslaver. You needed to be strong in vision, yet flexible enough to give them the illusion of freedom.

The Entrance Music​

The Music strikes the right note and the man in front of Dyans returns his Blade to standing position and as he does several dozen soldiers in the same Golden Crusader armor carrying the sith War Balde begin marching forward and out onto the center stage. The procession part of the display of power, let them see the elites you command. Let them marvel at the shiny armor and shiny weapons, let them see what they can dream to achieve. Then the man in front of Dyans moves Forward and in step Dyans moves with him and behind her follow several dozen more of those Guards dressed in the finest crusader armor Mandalorian make of the finest Beskar credits could buy. It spoke to reverence to the old crusades but herald to the new one Crusade that was on the Horizon.

Dyans stepped out onto stage all eyes fell on her and see remain poised and calm. Long had it been since she sat on a throne and addressed the people but as long as it had been in came back to her like a natural instinct. Dressed head to toe in black, a Black dress with silver chain tied to light silver pauldrons that connect to a silver and black cape that flowed off her back. Her short blonde hair and striking green eyes stared out stoically towards the crowd as she calmly made her way to the podium cape flowing in the breeze.


The only thing missing from the woman attire was a crown with how she carried herself. Everything about the way she presented herself screamed Royal or Nobility. She stepped up to the podium waiting for the music to die down and giving the crowd a moment to settle. As it did, she began to speak in that elegant Tetan accent her tone stern and authoritative. Her guards stood in rows behind her adding to the authoritative presences.


"When my eyes fell upon the fearsome warbands of Maw, my first thought was they were unrelenting and unpredictable. That unpredictability was both a blessing and curse. You are all fervent and passionate, you let nothing stand in your way. You all united under a vision of remaking the Galaxy from Bloodsworn, to the Sith Order, to the Final dawn, and to the heathen priest and beyond.


Despite your unpredictability the vision has held you together and allowed you push on against all the odds against you. Yet now after some time has past and you have heralded many victories, the Galaxy now fears your vision cracks have begun to form. Jealousy over who is the best, who gets the most credit, or who gets what lands. You begin to turn on one another and the vision gets divided or outright forgotten over petty squabbles.


We need to remember the vision the avatars and gods have set us on, we will all be reborn into the next existence equal in power, equal in riches, equal in fame, and equal in lands. This existence is dying a fading dream, we should not look at brothers and sisters in other clans and be envious of what they have and what you don't have because you will both have all you need in the next life. Don't take slight to Galaxy noticing one group over the other, remember we are all The Brotherhood of the Maw. If they want to call you sith let them, for they do not understand we are the Maw above all else our vision is more important then division of the clans.


That is why I come here today, with these soldiers behind me. To show our solidarity and unity in vision, each clan, tribe, order, and organization will offer up their finest soldiers to join the Holy Crusaders Army of the Maw. One single army that will be trained from all member groups, an army that will serve the Maw as a whole and will not serve one clan but all of them. A true uniform army to keep the peace among tribes and stop the cracks before the become fissures. Yet this way we can still keep the fearsome unpredictability of the warbands as well.


Our Vision must be carried to the Core and Beyond."


Then Here voiced raised and she yelled out the mantra of most of the Warbands.


"WAR, DEATH, REBIRTH!"

With that said Dyans looked out over the crowd one last time she didn't look for applause or adoration just understanding. She then stepped down after giving the Address, and another person came to the podium to call forth all the warband leaders or representatives. On top of the Crusaders army today they would also be forming Warband summit council of leaders. All ways to ensure the vision of the next existence stayed firm and that the Maw didn't fracture, split, or have an all-out civil war on there hands. The Idea was to try and give the groups that made up the Brotherhood of the Maw their independence but insure they wouldn't destroy the whole thing out of petty squabbles of envy of other groups. The Vision of the Maw first, the Holy Crusade must go on take the core and beyond.

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Kinoss, CEDF Depot Ruins
Tags: Dyans Keto

Vaguely, distantly, he remembered this place.

There had been a battle here, a battle he had helped to lead. He'd had some skin left back then, enough flesh to feel the chill in the air. He had walked on legs that were still his own, before a lightsaber had cut them from under him on Coruscant. He'd reached into his satchel of tricks to find each new gadget and weapon, before the Lupine Force-warrior had ripped it away from him on Rhand. Before he'd built all of those tricks into his hulking mechanical body, standing at twice the height his organic form had ever achieved, more tank than man.

There was so little left of any of it now.

Stalking forward on thin, spiderlike legs, the modified BT-16 perimeter droid - a design borrowed from the B'omarr Monks, who called them Brain Walkers - crawled across the shattered CEDF compound. In the jar beneath its bulbous body lay the last remnants of The Mongrel, the slave-soldier who had risen to become a warlord, the terror of the Galactic North. It was only his brain, shriveled and discolored, covered in cybernetic grafts that blinked and pulsed with strange lights. After Nirauan, after his fall, this was all that was left of him.

His brain, starved of oxygen for too long, reliant on machines to fill in the functions his dead neural tissue could no longer perform. How he loathed this existence, this near-helpless state, able to do nothing more than scuttle around like some overgrown insect. He could not feel, could only distantly hear or see. He found it hard even to think, for his thoughts often wriggled away from him, slippery fish sliding between his grasping fingers. He was a shadow of what he had once been, stripped of his strength and his cunning all at once.

They should have let him go to the Avatars.

The tech-shamans said that this dimness, this fog in his mind, would pass. His consciousness itself, his essential soul, was intact, still clinging to his half-dead brain. That meant that his life, and thus his service to the Brotherhood, could still be salvaged. In time he would adjust to the implants that kept his ruined neural tissue functional. In time his thoughts would no longer be clouded, and he could be a commander once more, a warleader on the field. He wasn't sure he believed it. He was helpless in this spider walker, small and weak.

But even as broken as he was, hovering at the edge of death, more like one of Halketh 's Perished than the marauder he was known for being, The Mongrel still led the Scar Hounds. They were his tribe, the tribe he had forged in battle across the Galactic North, and so long as he could cling to consciousness no other would lead them. Such was his legend, among them and among the Brotherhood as a whole, that this went unquestioned. The Maw had no tolerance for weakness; he should have been cast down and replaced.

He held on by reputation and sheer force of will.

And so the brain walker stood, surrounded by an honor guard of Scav Kings, amid the other warbands as Dyans spoke. Within the nutrient vat, The Mongrel listened, the sound of her voice delivered to him through the implants studding his ravaged brain. It was a speech about unity - unity of purpose, unity of forces, unity before the Dark Voice who spoke for the Avatars. Even with his mind fogged by the oxygen deprivation damage, the warlord was canny enough to understand why the speech was needed, and why it was needed now.

The Brotherhood suffered from its own success.

The more territory that fell under the banner of the Maw, the more the savage horde was forced to do things it had not been designed for - administrate planets, build logistical networks, plan grand strategic campaigns. The marauders who had followed their prophet out of the Unknown Regions had been a loose coalition of nomadic pirates and tribal warriors, perfect for shattering civilization's defenses but poor at actually ruling and managing the empire they forged. That was why the Final Dawn and New Sith Order were on the rise.

The iron-fisted rulers were replacing the pillagers.

Would these new Holy Crusaders be enough to hold together this increasingly fragile collection of different powers? Could they keep the tribal warlords from turning against the Final Dawn, returning to their old ways rather than being subsumed by the new? Could the Krath hold the Brotherhood back from devouring itself before its holy mission of cleansing was complete? The Mongrel did not know. Clouded as he was, he was not even sure what he hoped for. He had earned paradise on Nirauan... but they had snatched him back from that.

Back to this wretched galaxy, to rot along with it.

The only option left to him was to seek it again: a worthy death in the name of the Dark Three, a fresh path to the Galaxy To Come, where his suffering would finally be at an end. After Korriban, his warriors had called him the Thrice-Born Hound. But now he had passed through Rebirth again; the cycle continued for him, its ending uncertain... and he found himself so, so weary. But there was no stopping now. Not until he earned paradise for the final time. As Dyans completed her speech, his brain walker tapped its way forward, to the war council.

"THE SCAR HOUNDS STAND READY," his vocabulator chirped. Time to see what the Krath matriarch had to say at this summit of warlords.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Kinoss, Low Orbit
Tags: Zachariel Steelblood | Electra-12 | Electra-13 | Alexander Garrick

The Taskmaster had come because the Brotherhood needed slaves.

In the time that he had served the Maw, Tu'teggacha had watched with glee as the dark armies grew ever more ambitious. Shattering the great powers of the Unknown Regions - the Croke, the Gundanbard, the Tianese, the Chiss - had been only the beginning for them. With their domain in the far North secured, they had begun to strike out ever more brutally to the south and east, fighting to shatter civilization itself in the name of their Dark Voice. But the escalating war had not been without struggle or cost. The Ebruchi had experienced enough close brushes with death to know that with certainty; Nirauan, for one, had nearly been his end.

For countless warriors of the Brotherhood, it had been their end.

The ambitious assault on the former Imperial capital - and the almost concurrent attack on Jedha, which had also seen countless Mawite casualties - had badly depleted the ranks of the marauders. While cloned Drudges could fill most of the brute labor roles, soldiers were not so easily replaced; Drudges were too stupid and pliable to fight. Replenishing the Brotherhood's manpower meant two things: cloning more combat-effective strand casts, and turning more slave-soldiers to the Mawite cause. Since the genetic material for most strand casts came from promising captives, both required the same resource: living prisoners.

So while the stated goal of the assault on Kinoss was to root out the last CEDF base behind the Brotherhood - Alliance border, ensuring that no attacks could be mounted from behind the frontline, Tu'teggacha was less concerned with such questions of strategy and more concerned with taking Chiss soldiers alive. Those few CEDF troops who had survived the first attack on Kinoss - when the Maw had destroyed their fuel reserves and driven off their Alliance military advisers - were now hardened veterans, the kind of clearly worthy candidates for breaking and cloning that the Ebruchi most desired. He intended to oversee their capture. Intact.

As many as possible, anyway. To make an omelette, you had to break a few eggs.

Though Tu'teggacha would have liked to complete his task from the comfort of his usual command throne, the Fatalis was back in drydock over Osseriton, badly scarred after being struck point-blank by the NIO flagship's Starbreaker cannon high above Nirauan. It would no doubt be some time before it was fully functional again; the Mawite flagship had been broken down and stitched back together countless times. Instead, the Taskmaster sat aboard a Final Dawn Praetorian-class Star Destroyer, watching from the bridge but not the command chair. The choice of craft made perfect sense. This was largely a Final Dawn operation, after all, with their troops and pilots providing much of the manpower.

Not to discount the power and ferocity of the Bloodsworn, of course.

When the Mawite soldiers landed, Tu'teggacha would be able to take an active role in the part of the operation that actually mattered to him. For now, however, it was his task to ensure that the soldiers got the chance to land. These last Chiss holdouts would no doubt fight like demons to keep ahold of their stronghold; Kinoss was the final CEDF base beyond the Mawite border, and if it fell, the Ascendancy was truly finished here. Sure enough, several squadrons of Clawcraft soon began to emerge from hangar doors set into the ground, flying out of the subterranean hangar bays that the hidden base employed. First contact.

"Nacheria Squadron," Tu'teggacha burbled, "you have incoming contacts. Protect the transports!" They needed time to finish unloading the troops...

 

[Electra-12]

Location: Over Underground Base - Kinoss Lower Atmosphere
Call Sign: Nacheria Seven
Objective: Close Air Support
Equipment: TIE Pilot Flight Suit │ Hekler’Kok FP-01
Tags: Alexander Garrick Electra-13 Tu'teggacha

"Nacheria Squadron," Tu'teggacha burbled, "you have incoming contacts. Protect the transports!"

Electra-12 dry heaved at the wet, gurgling mockery of Basic which met her ears, undoubtedly spoken by an alien “tongue”. She was glad that she had decided not to eat before getting in the cockpit, knowing that it would be very difficult for her to kill anything with the contents of a breakfast splattered all over the inside of her helmet. Fortunately, she had the wherewithal not to say anything ill with the Taskmaster on the line, smoothly transitioning her dry heave into a series of coughs.

“Copy...that...Taskmaster!” She said in between fake coughs. “13!” The Chiss barked, once more projecting strength. “Ready proton torpedoes! On my mark!” Flicking a switch on her control sticks, Electra-12 switched to proton torpedoes in turn and began locking onto two of the Clawcraft coming out of the hangars. “Technicians did shoddy work again. Dust in the recirculators.” She lied.

Seeing the tightly-packed formation of Clawcraft below, Electra-12 could only fantasize the destruction she could have wrought had she been flying the TIE/fd Advanced. A well-aimed seismic charge in the middle of the formation would have taken out multiple Clawcraft, enough that she could have made herself an ace with a single attack. Unfortunately, the advanced model was an expensive, state-of-the-art machine which couldn’t be trusted to a fresh-from-the-vat clone pilot.

She still had yet to earn her wings.

The lock confirmation registered in her ears with a ping, her nostrils flaring as she angled her TIE’s chin towards her targets, before pressing the triggers to deliver a salvo of two proton torpedoes towards the two bogies.

“Now! Torpedoes away, 13!”

Spoiler: Loadout

• TIE/fd Space Superiority Fighter
  • Axial Missile Launcher [x2]
    • Proton Torpedo [x4]
    • Proton Torpedo [x4]

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent, Nite agent | Marauder of the Maw​

Objective I: The New Holy Crusade
Location: Kinoss, CEDF Depot Ruins
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Omega Phase Assault Rifle | 2x PV-16 "Sunfury" Pulse Pistol | Hound Combat Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger || Stealth field generator || OPBC-01m
Tags: The Mongrel | Dyans Keto

[ Death to the World ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

I was here again, where I belonged; fortunately it is easy to disguise my arrival due to the fact Ziare has a lot of work and she needs to travel a lot. I was seriously injured on Jakku, but in the end I survived. On the other invasion the little girl survived only because I was followed by my own team who didn’t want to hurt me either. I needed assurances to complete the task. Which eventually worked out, so I had no complaints at all.

The return took a little longer than I had hoped; the reason for this was that Ziare went on vacation; a sick pay, so I had to wait for him to go back to work. Those were the most boring weeks of my life, but I was finally here. While Dyans Keto was talking I walked through the neighbourhood among the horde members. Finally, I saw what I was looking for. That is, who I was looking for.

Although even I didn’t know which was the correct statement. I heard the news and rumors of what happened on the planet NIO. But… I didn’t want to believe it until I saw it. I just saw it and the news, rumours didn’t lie. During the walk, I took off my helmet and handed it to one of my men. I raised my hand, signalling to stay behind. They both stopped after a nod.

I was heading for the Warlord alone. I could have been halfway there when the woman finished speaking, and then even the Warlord gave a short, inspiring “speech”. I didn’t really pay attention to the woman’s words, I was busy with my own thoughts, but I had no doubt she was a great speaker. But I didn’t need an inspiring speech, for I was always pretty determined.

War, death, reborn!

If I hadn’t wanted to, I would have heard these. In the meantime, I slowly arrived at The Mongrel . At first I stopped a good few meters from him and saluted him. As far as I knew, he was not interested in military formalities; but I did care. That is why it is only after the respect has been given that I step closer to him and speak.

"Warlord, I returned!" I told the man.

 

[Electra-13]

Location: En Route to Underground Base - Kinoss Lower Atmosphere
Call Sign: Nacheria Eight
Objective: Close Air Support
Equipment: TIE Pilot Flight Suit │ Hekler’Kok FP-01
Tags: #Alexander Garrick Electra-12

There was a pause in her tallying of incoming craft as the taskmaster spoke. A solid series of blinks to keep herself from retching all over the cockpit of her tie as the garbled and horrifically pronounced basic passed her ears. Wondering quietly how many of their sisters had taken steps to keep from being a similar fate as 12 made the call back. She thanked everything under the sun she had not been made to do so as her sister called on her.

“Solid copy, 12, torpedoes on standby!” Electra-13 answered as she engaged the systems and followed suit behind her sister. The engines whined sharply, a dial reading a spike in the reactor as she eased back on the thrusters to no avail. Her mouth tightened in anxiety, teeth gritting together as her TIE screamed forward alongside the volley 12 had sent.

“Not just the recirculators! Reactor power spike!” Electra-13 snapped over the line to her sister as the TIE howled forward. The Clawcraft hesitated against the sudden rush of a TIE and the torpedos beside them. 13 twisted the stick sideways, veering left and low as a single torpedo left her own craft and passed through the center of the formation.

“Gonna take a techies head when I get back! Give me a mike to figure this out and I'll be back on point 5.” She howled into the comms while finishing the twisting maneuver. She skimmed the surface briefly, snow glistening as the dark shape of the TIE screamed. Angry ranting filled her helmet as she tried everything under the sun to bleed reactor power to acceptable levels.

Without realizing it, the raking fire across the ground from the twin heavy repeating blasters was stirring up the snow, causing her craft to be hidden beneath a plume of snow as her TIE danced above the planets surface. She hadn't crashed yet or even downed anything, and she was set on pulling back out of this.

Dancing along the planets surface was taking too much attention however as she pulled back on the controls and sent herself skyward. The dials danced back and forth from reactor power reading overcharge to cooling systems being maxed out. She chewed her lip as she played chicken with the systems.

Spoiler: Loadout

• TIE/fd Space Superiority Fighter
  • Axial Missile Launcher [x2]
    • Proton Torpedo [x4]
    • Proton Torpedo [x4]

 

[The Messenger]

Alarms sounded off inside the hidden structure, the underground sanctum of the CEDF soon to be under siege. Chiss officers quickly rendezvoused inside of the War Room and began their strategized plan of attack, yes.. attack.

The best defense was a strong offense, if they simply waited for the Brotherhood to come with their siege machinery and heavy walkers the base would be overrun and Kinoss’s last chance at freedom would be gone forever. This was no simple fight over planetary territory or valuable resources, it was a war for survival. The systematic genocide and reuse of the Chiss biological material was simply sick, a disgusting and despicable, abominable act that could not be forgiven.

Oh yes. The CEDF, while crippled, isolated, and under siege was not without valuable intel. With the Galactic Alliance doing everything in their power to keep the Ascendancy alive in some form or another along with the New Imperials who valiantly defended the Eastern Front, it became privileged knowledge that the MAW began cultivating Chiss of their own.

As their scout teams began contact with the Final Dawn’s vanguard, they realized the time was now. A full offense by the Brotherhood was about to begin. With reports of a massive gathering on the other side of the planet, the time was now or never. The vanguard needed destroyed and then a swift attack on the gathering would likely cripple the Brotherhood over Kinoss. Long enough hopefully to receive reinforcements from Alliance space. They just had to buy time, divide and conquer.

With that Operation: Hailfire began. Chiss Clawcraft would launch from the hidden hangars and begin to close in Electra-12 , Electra-13 , and Alexander Garrick . The surface to space, orbital ion cannon nestled in the rocky terrain would initiate fire on the Praetorian Class Star Destroyer carrying Tu'teggacha , and finally squadrons of bombers would begin to mobilize to hit the great gathering on the other side of Kinoss.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Kinoss, Low Orbit
Tags: Zachariel Steelblood | Electra-12 | Electra-13 | Alexander Garrick

The Chiss would never have lasted past their homeworld's loss without considerable cunning.

Such was the thought running through Tu'teggacha's mind as the last remnants of the CEDF moved in - not to defend, but to attack. The proud military tradition of the Ascendancy had always produced bold strategies, and they had yet to make an exception to the rule of courage and innovation. One moment the Praetorian-class Star Destroyer ruled the skies, its well-armed bulk unchallenged; the next, it was under heavy ion fire, its shields dropping rapidly. The Taskmaster burbled a dark curse as the bridge lights shuddered. Already the tables had been turned on him, not five minutes into the battle. A few more hits like that, and...

... well, this destroyer was going to fall from the sky, and the invasion would collapse.

Nacheria Squadron was performing admirably against the enemy clawcraft squadrons, though that was no surprise. There was nothing in the galaxy that brutally efficient Brotherhood engineering could not improve on... and that included the Chiss themselves. The creation of strand cast clones from Chiss genetic material, which had been captured during the initial ravaging and later full conquest of Ascendancy space, meant that cobalt-skinned near-humans manned both sides of the conflict. These clones, slated to be discarded as failures when they'd failed to manifest sky-walker Force sensitivity, had instead been turned to another purpose.

They would help replenish the war-ravaged ranks of the Final Dawn.

There was no time to marvel at the dark science behind the creation of these ace pilots, however; their services were needed for an urgent new task. "Nacheria Squadron," the Taskmaster slither-spoke again, his tentacles lashing the air in agitation, "switch targets immediately. Your new target is the surface-to-air ion cannon. It must be destroyed!" The Ebruchi didn't much care if reversing his orders within minutes of first giving them looked bad. The pilots were only clones, after all, literally bred to serve the Maw. He had no interest in exploring whether they felt, whether they judged his decisions, only in wielding them like any other weapon.

The shuttles would have to fend for themselves awhile. The ion cannon had to go. Now.

For the Star Destroyer's part, it redirected all weapon power to its shields. It was a fully defensive move, meaning that it couldn't provide orbital cover to the Bloodsworn and Final Dawn forces disembarking below, but the cessation did make tactical sense; if the ship was torn from the sky, ionized and left to crash amid the snows, it wouldn't be able to fire then either. Better to interrupt the air support than to lose it entirely. Everything depended on speed now. So long as the ion cannon kept firing, the enemy clawcraft could attack the shuttles almost freely, and the Chiss bombers could move to attack the gathering. Only haste could stop them.

Only haste could win this battle.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective: Test the reborn Bloodsworn and kill the Chiss
Tags: Alexander Garrick | Electra-12 | Electra-13 Tu'teggacha
Links: Weapons | Chosen | Helmets​

Advancing as they were wasn't the fastest, but it was safe enough against counter attacks. In the near distance fighters rose from the ground, moving high to engage the Maws own forces and keep them away. Grinning beneath his helm, Zachariel realized they didn't yet recognize the Bloodsworn as a credible threat, or were waiting for them to get closer. Either way, they'd oblige them, and close the distance.
"Onto the vehicles Bloodsworn, now we charge."

With so many enemy fighters away, the path all but lay open to them. And at the command of Zachariel, the Bloodsworn shifted closer to the vehicles, hopping onto them however they could. Once most were loaded, they shot forward, closing the distance towards the location the Chiss fighters had come from. They grew ever closer, and closer,... and closer, before enemy fire suddenly shot out towards them! Blaster fire emerged from hidden trenches and bunkers, hammering into the vehicles of the Bloodsworn, and a few cries indicated some marauders had been hit.

Cursing the Chiss, the vehicles halted for but a moment, prompting the Bloodsworn to disembark. Before the last boot had hit the snow, the vehicles were rumbling forward once more, now moving in such a way to protect the soldiers behind them. As for said marauders, they were in the squad groups, in lines behind the vehicles. With weapons pointed forward, they advanced at a light jog, beginning to rain down counter fire. And staggered between the vehicles, and before the marauders, came the Chosen. The acted as armored shields for their lesser brethren, while also allowing them to fire past their shoulders.

In this way they advanced, laying down suppressive fire to bring them ever closer to the enemy. At their back marched Zachariel, watching them, analyzing their movements for weakness, and correcting oversights. On a hundred battlefields they had gained experience against countless foes, on this they would begin their journey anew. This was the start of the new era of the Bloodsworn, one that would shake the galaxy, and burn it to ash. Marching on and on, they ignored the fire directed at them, simply shifting their own to blast at any fire coming towards them. Never stopping or slowing, they advanced on and on.

Tags: Dyans Keto | The Mongrel​

In this meeting of leaders, Zachariel was not present. He was out waging war upon the Chiss of Kinoss, wishing to see how fruitful his changes would be to the warband. But the Bloodsworn would not be denied representation at this gathering and he had sent two representatives in his place. Recent rising stars, one was a marauder leader, the other one of Zachariel's Chosen. The silent marauder who had once tortured Ziare and was now a premiere interrogator of the Bloodsworn, and the female Chosen who had led the counterattack on Nirauan.

The unlikely pair stood together, watching those around them, and wearing their respective armors. From where they stood, they easily watched the procession of Dyans and her guards. Their first appearance had garnered an unfavorable reaction from the Chosen, with her hands reaching for her weapons. She was instantly reminded of the guards of Aurelian, but a calming motion from the marauder made her stop and simply watch. And watch they did, observing the warriors bright armor and perfect weapons.

In their case, rather than be awed or cowed by the impressive display, they instead sneered beneath their masks. Next to the guards, they were specks, yet still they sneered, because the guards bore no battle scars, their armor and weapons looked like they had never been used. By comparison, their own armor was cobbled together, even if expertly done so, and said armor was also impressive in its own rights. But more than that, it was battle worn and damaged, bearing the marks of countless battles and near death experiences. So they saw the other as beneath them, for they had never stepped foot on a battlefield, and their royal leader hadn't either. Whether or not that was true is irrelevant to them, for they don't bear the marks of battle.

Thankfully for them, this was internal musing, and private communication between the pair, as outwardly they merely shifted about. Eventually she finished her speech, crying out the infamous phrase of the Brotherhood. With the Chosen echoing the phrase, the pair stepped forward as well, joining the Mongrel and any other for the war council. Once more, the Chosen spoke, even as the marauder remained silent.
"The Bloodsworn are ready. Our master is already attacking the Chiss with out new way of war." Chuckling darkly, she clanked her weapon with one hand. "He sends his regards, especially to you Lord Mongrel. Those who stand against us won't know what hit them."

 

[Aldo Garrick]

No One Is Truly Ever Gone
Operation: FINAL DAWN
​

“Rebirth.”

He hobbled forth, his leg still stiff from the throes of death. The Sith cultist stood tall, marching forward in the manner of a dignified officer as best he could manage. A position of strength, a distinguished leader, a dead hero.

“..it awaits each and every single one of you. More beautiful than you could ever imagine. The galaxy to come, it brings tears to my dead flesh.”

Garrick came to the forefront, moving to Dyans Keto at her flank. He looked upon the legion vast before him, unified in the name of their dark crusade. In their sole purpose.

“I’ve missed you all. The Dark Voice bades you welcome to the new era. It is time to bring the new dawn to reality!”

Stretching out his arm he roared out to the assembled masses and honored the Krath cultist, holding his other hand in gesture toward the former monarch Dyans Keto .

“War! Death! Rebirth!”

 

[CETCOM]

---

---

---

O P E R A T I O N : W I N T E R_H A R V E S T

THE FINAL DAWN
KINOSS , CHISS SPACE
NORTHERN TUNDRA

---

Objective - Harvest the Remnants
Focus - General Tylo Bellock

---

A Trio of Subjugator-Class Planetary Assault Ships emerged from Hyperspace in orbit of the World of Kinoss. Inside their hulls were over 12,000 Soldiers of the dreaded 439th Legion nicknamed “Sularen’s Wrath”. Fanatical Soldiers Extremely Loyal to their Former Lord-Imperator , having joined him and vowed to get their Revenge on the Corrupt Politicians who had stolen their world from them and those who dared side with them. To them , these Remnants of the CEDF that had entrenched themselves on Kinoss were nothing more but a thorn on their Great Leader’s Side , delaying the Final Dawn’s Inevitable Conquest of the Core Worlds but nevertheless giving them an opportunity to prove their worth to their Great Leader once more.

Inside the Main Hangar of the Lead Assault Ship , General Tylo Bellock emerged from the Hallways leading into the Hangar escorted by a Squad of Final Dawn Elite Raptor SuperCommandos as he passed through Rows of assembled 439th Legion Stormtroopers standing in front of their HAAV’s ready for deployment. As he arrived in front of his HAAV Transport , he turned around to face his Men ready to deliver a speech.

“Soldiers of the 439th!As I speak we approach one of the Last Remnants of the CEDF at Kinoss , who have launched a desperate last-ditch attempt to repel us from this World which we have rightfully taken from them. For Years you have remained in the Dark , waiting for the right moment to be unleashed upon the enemies of our Great Leader , and now that time has come. We shall descend on Kinoss and show these Chiss the Raw Might of the Final Dawn. For we are an unstoppable Force , one that does not know defeat nor mercy. Today our Name shall be heard and Soon they will know who we are , especially those cowards in Bilbringi. FOR BYSS , FOR THE FINAL DAWN!”

The Assembled Soldiers then Roared in response.

“FOR THE FINAL DAWN. WAR! DEATH! REBIRTH!”

Soon the Soldiers began marching into their HAAVs as the Subjugators entered the upper atmosphere of Kinoss and within Minutes Dozens of HAAVs emerged from the Hangars of the Three Ships headed towards the Frozen Northern Tundra of Kinoss followed by Numerous TIE Fighters and Short-Range Attack Fighters as they began to accelerate towards the Chiss Underground Fortress ready to unleash the True Might of the Final Dawn upon these Pathetic Chiss Remnants. If they thought they knew what they were up against , they would have to think again...

---

Tags | Alexander Garrick | Electra-12 | Electra-13 | Tu'teggacha | Zachariel Steelblood ​

---

 

[Derix Tirall]

P O W E R
HIGH REGENT OF THE FINAL DAWN ​

---

The Chiss must die.

The remaining holdouts were becoming nuances more so foe. Considerable resources had been thrown at the many operations that saw one Chiss Remenat crushed after another, and yet they still preserved. Success after success only to face yet another, though more disorganized, resistance. If total annihilation had taught the Chiss anything, it was to survive.

Which brought him here. To Kinoss.

The great Taskmaster had done what no bio-engineer or doctor within the Final Dawn had managed to accomplish. Though purely by accident, through the breaking- no correcting, of some young Chiss within his grasp the Elbruchi Warlord had managed to deliver a functioning series of Chiss Strandcast to the Neo-Imperial military junta. Now they could understand the Chiss. Now they could destroy the Chiss

"Taskmaster" The cylindrical, armored doors of the battlecruiser's bridge opened with a slight hiss as Tirall and his entourage of miscreants exited, every step performed in perfect harmony. Order, to the galaxy's chaos.

"A pleasure to finally meet you" He paused, extending his hand torward the groteque alien, "I assume you have found our recruits to be satisfactory"

Tu'teggacha | Marlon Sularen | Electra-12 | Electra-13 | Zachariel Steelblood​

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Kinoss, Low Orbit
Tags: Electra-12 | Electra-13 | Marlon Sularen | Derix Tirall

The great doors of the bridge whooshed open, and Tu'teggacha's head snapped up, looking away from the maze of battlefield reports and scans before him. His black eyes glittered as the High Regent approached, making honeyed words, beginning the dance of diplomacy. Damn it all, this was no time for niceties! The ship was under active ion fire from a planetary cannon, moments away from system failure if his pilots did not accomplish their goal! A dark impulse ran through the Taskmaster's mind, born of his ever-seething hate. He could dredge up the man's worst memories and fears. He could torment him right off the bridge.

With difficulty, he reigned himself in. Tempting, but it would undo everything. Tu'teggacha commanded this ship only by the grace of the Final Dawn, and the Final Dawn was represented here by High Regent Tirall. If the Taskmaster dared to do him harm, the fallout would be terrible indeed. Without the forces of the Final Dawn and their hidden shipyards, stretching from the Unknown Regions to the Deep Core, the warriors of the Brotherhood would never be able to stand against the rest of the galaxy. They needed the neo-Imperials badly... and the Final Dawn needed them, needed the cannon fodder their marauder legions provided.

Neither could win this war without the other. A schism would break them both.

So the Ebruchi composed himself. There was no use in worrying about the starship battle all around him, or the ceaseless battering from the ion cannon below. Long ago, when he had been just an outcast child, Tu'teggacha had learned to focus only on what he could control. He could not change the fact that he was shunned and beaten by his clan, cast aside for his strange and unnerving abilities. He had no power to escape his situation, or to prevent the others from harming him. So he had reduced his days to simple, achievable tasks. Find scraps of food. Scout a safe place to sleep. Practice his unnatural talents, growing his dark skill.

Until, in time, he had been strong enough in the Force to alter his fate.

"High Regent," he replied, inclining his bulbous head. "You honor us with your presence." His glassy eyes and utterly alien face gave no indication of his true thoughts. Even the frenzied lashing of his facial tendrils had become still, drooping placidly around his ring-like mouth, betraying no agitation. They wriggled wetly with every word he spoke. "The ships and soldiers of the Final Dawn are, as ever, instrumental in our victory." Everything he'd said was true; it was best not to lie directly, even when your intent was to deceive; it made the deception far harder to uncover. "Even now they fight to subdue the last of the Chiss."

 

[Electra-12]

Location: En Route to Ion Cannon Emplacement - Kinoss Lower Atmosphere
Call Sign: Nacheria Seven
Objective: Destroy Ion Cannon
Equipment: TIE Pilot Flight Suit │ Hekler’Kok FP-01
Tags: Alexander Garrick Electra-13 Tu'teggacha Marlon Sularen

The satisfying, dopamine-inducing ping of two kill confirmations met Electra-12’s ears as her proton torpedoes connected with their targets, bringing down two of the Clawcraft in fiery explosions, leaving not but charred quadanium steel in their wake. The breath held tight in her chest escaped from her lips as she pulled her TIE up, then jinked hard to the left, her emotions transitioning from xenophobic disgust to elation as the rush of her very first kills filled her senses. However, it would be foolish to celebrate now, especially since she wasn’t even an ace yet.

Her thought process quickly transitioned to assessing the battlespace, attention focused simultaneously outside the octagonal viewport and on her sensor readout as she processed the positions of the Clawcraft in their attempts to swarm the landing shuttles. Immediately, she recognized the signs of a growing furball as Final Dawn TIEs and Clawcraft clashed in the space above the hidden base. It was a situation that could be readily exploited for a few easy kills, but she could also find herself sucked into the melee if she wasn’t careful, with little way out but to destroy the enemy. However, since many of the shuttles still had not yet reached their landing zones, Electra-12 decided that she couldn’t commit to that plan of action, yet. Instead, she pulled her TIE back on approach to the surface, nostrils flaring as a singular of Clawcraft lined up one of the shuttles from above, angled to shoot down the vessel just as it was disgorging its payload of troops.

That put it right in her sights.

Pink, glowing eyes honed in on the bandit, before delicate fingers squeezed the triggers on the control sticks with bloodthirsty force, sending forth a precise salvo of emerald beams that found their marks on the curved wings and central “ball” of the Clawcraft, driving it down into the ice while bathed in flames. A second Clawcraft caught the ire of her attention a moment later, but it had gotten close to her six, forcing Electra-12 to pull her control sticks hard to the left, effectively maneuvering her TIE beneath bandit’s trajectory and in the process, forcing the enemy pilot to break off the attack lest he risk crashing into the surface.

Electra-12 wasted no time in accelerating back up to altitude, but her attention was briefly seized as the panicked voice of her batch sister met her ears, indicating another technical issue.

“Get as high as you can, 13! I’ll cover you!”

Without delay, Electra-12 locked onto the Clawcraft that were the closest to her sister’s position, firing a salvo of three proton torpedoes intended to force them into evasive maneuvers, thereby sparing her sister from their wrath. One of the bandits managed to evade, but the second, which she had designated two torpedoes for, was forced into a spiraling dive just as the torpedoes connected with the engines, consuming the craft in a violent detonation.

There was no time to marvel at the dark science behind the creation of these ace pilots, however; their services were needed for an urgent new task. "Nacheria Squadron," the Taskmaster slither-spoke again, his tentacles lashing the air in agitation, "switch targets immediately. Your new target is the surface-to-air ion cannon. It must be destroyed!"

Repressing any frustrated words which might have left her lips at being forced to take contradictory orders from a slimy alien, Electra-12 channeled that anger into action, pushing her control sticks forward to drive her TIE ahead, demanding as much speed as the twin ion engines could give her.

“Affirmative, Taskmaster! Shifting heading now!”

The strand-cast only barely caught the blips on her sensor readout when a trio of Clawcraft broke off from the main group, moving after Electra-12’s TIE as it closed in on the ion cannon emplacement...

Spoiler: Loadout

• TIE/fd Space Superiority Fighter
  • Axial Missile Launcher [x2]
    • Proton Torpedo [x3]

 

[Dyans Keto]

Post: 2
Tag: Darth Solipsis | The Mongrel | Zachariel Steelblood | Halketh | Aldo Garrick | Keilara Kala'myr

The Reborn Aldo Garrick spoke to those gathering as he came up to Dyans side and gestured to her. Her emerald eyes took in those coming forth. She noted the reverence many held for the Brain in the spider frame, the one they called The Mongrel . That name, a name of a dog of no definable type often with connotations of being untamable and stray. She watched as everyone seemingly looked upon him with reverence of near godly being much like sith looking on their Dark lords. It just went to show even those lower rungs could rise to command respect and armies.


She watched a little longer as one of his soldiers approached him and then one of the Bloodsworn. It was all very interesting to the Former Empresses. She had led armies and navies into war before, seen comradery between soldiers. However, these were warbands of raiders and barbarians a far cry from the military she was used to that was another reason for the crusaders to bring some uniformity to the Brotherhood. Yet even among these raiders some of which fought against each other more than likely before coming under the Maw banner seemed to have raised one up as their true leader with out even realizing it. Yet as much as it intrigued her, and she wanted to try and understand how and why she had more important things to attend to for the moment.


Dyans watched as the warlords approached and she turned and moved into the meeting tent that had been erected. Many ornate chairs stood in a circle facing each other a seat for every leader or representative sent to attend this meeting. Dyans made her way to the center of the circle where an old sith sword stood Blade sticking in the ground hilt in the air. As some of the warlords channeled in She took note that Tegan Starfall hadn't come but another Elder of the Sorcerer of Rhand in her place. Of course, the little git wouldn't show that woman didn't care about anything unless it stroked her ego.


As she stood there waiting a young officer approached her and bowed slightly before moving up to her side. He whispered to a quick synopsis of what was going on, on the battle front. She nodded and he began to move along but she grabbed his arm stopping him. She whispered to him "Find me all you can on the Mongrel." She was keeping tabs on many things both inside and outside the Maw, her spies were everywhere, she then let him go. She then turned back Aldo Garrick . "We should begin, we need make sure all the warlords understand and alleviate any worries they may have." The words she spoke came of silver from the tongue though they were laced with venom ready to sting. Those warbands that didn't want to comply would find out swiftly what that meant.