Junction Echoes of War — GA/DE Junction of Obredaan and Vandelhelm

[Amelia von Sorenn]

MOVING THE PIECES

Auteme​

Her attention was drawn away for a moment as her golden-yellow hues fell upon the set of double doors that awaited them at the end of the hall. The Federal Assembly was not a body that she was enamored with nor did she feel any sort of connection to beyond a few select individuals, the Chancellor being among that rather short list. The last time she stood before them, she was raked over the coals solely for her previous affiliation with the Confederacy of Independent Systems; whilst the representatives seemingly demanded that someone more qualified than her take up the position she held, though they did little in the means of providing any other examples. The Assembly, it seemed, was more than content with demanding action only to then turn around and take none or prevent their colleagues from taking any.

"I am old Chancellor."

She said, her attention shifting once more to the woman standing before her as Amelia did her best to keep her head from scraping the ceiling of the hallway. A soft sigh slipped from her lips as she turned her attention back towards the doors; accepting that she would once more have to take a stand in front of a group of, what could be at best described as, bickering children more focused on their desires and wants than some greater whole.

"I have seen this cycle repeat again and again, hundreds of times, and each time there doesn't seem to be any change. We only do a little better each time. In the end, all we can hope is that we save as many lives as we can."

Returning her attention once more to the Chancellor, she offered a slight smile, the edge of her lips curling enough to reveal a hint of the fangs that lay beneath before she seemed to steel herself.

"I suppose we shouldn't delay any further."

 

[Vorik]

Tags: Detritus Ren , Valery Noble , Efret Farr , BB-610
Objective II

...

There was a tilt over, the blade wrenching from the debris once more to stand ready in the direction of the newcomer - for he did not yet know friend apart from foe. Stood afore him, a decrepit and old individual - one vastly more powerful than he. Even Vorik could feel the whispers of cold, of the darkness. A frown adorned the features beneath the helmet not long thereafter, as he shoved his blade back into the rubble below.

“He will survive.” Spoke the Disciple, “If he did not, then he would not be worthy of Ren.” Asserted with a confidence - though whether it was confidence placed in his master, or merely the principle of which he spoke, it was difficult to say. With a final BZZT! Of the vibroblade through the rubble, the blade cut just next to the Master of Ren below, finally cracking some light into his tomb. It was then Detritus seized the opportunity and broke free.

With his emergence from the rubble, Vorik had taken a few steps back. His head bowed in reverence, for he could not afford to kneel with effort. “It would be disgraceful to leave you behind in time of need.” Was the simply spoken reply. Still, he felt gladdened to be given thanks, and blessed by the Shadow to aid its Hand at this moment. With the head raising, there was a stunned look from behind the helm in response to the sudden outburst of Detritus, the words he spewed as if it were venom that could kill. It wasn’t hard to sight enraged glint to his visage.

“No, Master!” He insisted on the contrary, a hand splaying outwards in a gesture towards Detritus. A rare luxury that Sith often could not afford to do without paying the ultimate price. Motioning towards the direction from which they originated from - one of the many newfound holes in the Temple. “The fleets above are in retreat. The Jedi will be upon us at any second - should we tarry any longer, our chance of escape, along with your legacy, will be lost.” He would intone with an air of stress. The last remnant of the World Eater’s lineage, the leader of the Knights of Ren. With his death, his chances of furthering this bygone order would be gone with it.

Vorik simply valued life over revenge, at this present moment. Without the dark haze clouding his mind, driving him forward with senseless rage, he could see far clearer, though they were all no doubt left weakened from their tribulations. Any fighting that sprouted here would be simply overwhelmed by the enemy that surrounded the temple as they spoke, this he knew.

With their conversation and exchange, it was good fortune they hadn’t been descended upon already. But hearing the squeal of binary in the distance, of murmured voices, he wasn't sure that would stay the same for long.

 

[Imogen Solace]

Objective: Search for fleeing Sith
Tag: Aris Noble / Sinestra
Location: Coruscant

<"Now's the time kiddo, be careful">

Imogen smoothly took out her lightsaber and ignited it in unison, her focus deadset on the Sith standing before her. Skidding to a halt, she extended her lightsaber out with one hand and decided to give her the chance to hand herself in peacefully "If I try I will succeed. That's why I'm offering you one chance to lay down your saber and surrender yourself, one that I hope you'll take into deep consideration."

Narrowing her eyes at the woman, she could feel her beginning to regain her strength with the dark energy surrounding her.

"Even for a Sith, you are smarter than this. Do not try it!"​

 

[Aris Noble]

Aris couldn't feel the Force being pulled. The only thing he did hear was for him to be ready. So, he lifted his blade, let the blue saber light up his surroundings as he narrowed his eyes in focus. As soon as she moved, as soon as she tried something, anything, he would act. But, well, he had to at least be aware she was trying something. Sometimes his lack of being able to feel the Force certainly had it's limitatons.

Imogen Solace | Sinestra

 

[Thomas Barran]

3rd Post

ECHOES OF WAR
-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags (Friend): Mini Mongrels Kybo Ren

Tags (Foe): PVE But [OPEN]

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 5

APPROACHING RALLYING-POINT,
SLUM ZONE 3, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

'Hey, stay back! Unless, un- ah! Unless you're.... Mawite?'
'See? It fine, Imperial. Relax! We retreat rally-point - your LZ, no?'
'Oh.... Well, thank my lucky stars! I m-ah! I m-might actually make it this time.'
​

It was the last thing the Feral 4th expected the find after the trail of mayhem left in their Khan's wake.

Leaving Slum Zone 4 in a trail of bodies and destruction stretching for almost a mile before they crossed into the adjacent slum, only to find a trail of destruction with bodies and equipment from both sides of the struggle, discovered almost as soon as the Khan's contingent crossed beyond the speeder-trail threshold. Not even the the Cirihuts' struggle with the Mandalorian MBTs could match it, serving as a standard of the battle's most-violent engagements by far, and even that seemed meagre when compared to the mass of dead and wounded soldiers from both sides of a struggle the Mawsworn seemingly just missed, and by mere minutes after the last shot was fired there.

Strewn all across a sector that rested somewhere between the far-reaches of Khanate and Imperial flanks, the dead seemingly numbered in the hundreds, though this was only the dead and agonal the Raiders could see in their quiet eastward retreat, likely pushing from three figures to four in the alleyways and streets they lacked the time to search on the way. Leaving no illusions as to how just one survivor could be found in the wake of such barbarity, as the sheer scale of this engagement (despite the fact it escaped the detection of the main offensives) was indicator enough of how miraculous it would have been to survive such bloodshed, as there were scenes far more grisly than the usual burn-wounds and disruptor-shot husks left behind in the clash.

'We can carry 'im, Ratchet. Its fine, an' besides - not far to go now. We might as well take the poor sod the rest o' the way.'

Much of the fighting here had been too close to use larger weapons effectively, and judging by all the blood the rain was washing down the nearest drains at the time, the conclusions of CQB-melee became all too easy to assume in the consequent retreat through the slums. Thus divining how difficult it might have been for the lone trooper to survive the ordeal, as there were more than enough of his own wounds incurred before the last shot was fired, and judging by the warmth of the rifle-barrel as Barran himself cast it aside, that last shot was likely fired by that very same rifle the trooper had been brandishing just moments before.

'Alright.... Grit teeth, Imperial. If want to live, grit - hard.... One, two, thr-'

With no resistance whatsoever, the Imperial finally allowed his fate to take the wheel, barely even groaning despite the pain, swallowing every last semblance of pride in the hope he could live to fight another day. A trust in Marauders of which was not lost on his allies, and certainly not on the Hounds leading them at the time, made all the more obvious in that reactive, knowing glance that was cast between the Bloodhound and his Mastiff in silent reponse - enough that it silenced the trooper's rescuers for the rest of their quick, quiet retreat.

If its these the Imperials send to fight-
I may just have to advocate for their strategic preservation too.

These Imperials, man.... Full o' surprises, so they are.
​

Given every courtesy of water, painkiller-stims and steady carrying-pace, the process of involving the survivor's predicament in the retreat would prove easy enough to be a wordless process anyway, making fluid the last stretches of run-down real estate between the unknown carnage and the first rallying-point. All amounting to a quiet, uneventful retreat for the most part, and it wouldn't be until the last street when things were expected to be loud and violent, but it was still quiet beyond the Grey Zone boundary; walking beyond their expected defence-line in the west with heads aloft, seeking signs or sounds of conflict overhead, only to find that all the booms and crashes were still far too distant to worry about.

But Thomas knew the Ferals weren't alone, even though he knew the Thunder and the Scav Kings were still too far away to consider, factoring out every external presence in Force-Intuitive scanning of the rainy backdrop around him. It was only a matter of time (and a quickly-receding search boundary) before the Bloohound discovered those familiar presences once more, stepping out just a short distance ahead, waving as family would as the one-eyed Woad muttered,'Wait, I know y-', cut short in his words as he advanced in outright confusion. Inexplicably understanding what presences were sensed in the air before, somehow knowing what it all meant as their faces steadily drew into focus, the Khan was brought to his knees in defeat for the first time in almost twenty years, and not even the will of Mother Rebirth could force him to stand under such weighted responsibility.

'Ratchet, please. Take the others, link up with the Darkhan's forces, an' get our Brethren back to the second rallying-point - I'll catch up as soon as I can.'

The Mantellian paused a moment to fathom what he was seeing, seemingly recognising the Mongrel's children as his Khan had just moments before, casting cursory glances back and forth between them with the wounded trooper still on his back, but Ratchet silently obeyed all the same. Seeing the Mongrel and Mercy in these youths as his Khan did in the moments, almost as if the answer was emanating with crystal clarity before their very eyes, but time, and circumstances would decide if fate willed their paths to meet again, so the Mantellian left his Woad-born leader to decide on the outcome. Saddened though the Mastiff would be in parting, the Marauder knelt on one knee in reverence, and bowed his head in the twins' direction before moving off in pursuit of the other Ferals.

'You're.... But, how?

Mercy's gonna flay me alive for this.... Something's gone awry here.
And here I am - scratching my head again.

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 6

CORPORATE TOWER 2,
SLUM ZONE 1, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

DREAMER DARKHAN - 3

<"They're overstretching again, Dreamer. See for yourself... They're trying to get between our retreat and Farnum's, I'll wager. But as I mentioned before, they're overstretching, AND I WANT TO PUNISH THEM FOR IT!!!!">

<"Your clearance is given, Gouger. I know you've got the ordnance for it. Dreamer - out!">​

With one quick glance through his optics, the renegade Chiss chuckled heartily for the second time that day, seeing with ease the risks the GADF counteroffensive was endeavouring, as not even a fresh outbreak of hostilities could contend with the rains that were beating down heavily on the city by then. But as soon as the first few fireteams were spotted, the Darkhan chuckled again to see that their attacks were already being punished, retreating in reverse to find better-defensible positions, not knowing their pursuers were quite proficient in urban mouse-holing methods. Then after another few moments, it wouldn't take long to see the power-armour of his comrades in the distance, and not just any Galactic-graded array either, this collective bore the colours and marking-insignias of other Scav Kings.

<"Gouger, switch to small-arms.... Their vanguard isn't advancing - they're retreating.">
<"Huh? From who, though?">
<"I think its Farnum. In fact, I KNOW its Farnum!">
<"YEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!! GOOD NEWS FOR ONCE!!!!">
<"Heh! You got that right, Gouger.... Heads on swivels from here, my young friend.">
<"Copy that. Gouger - out!">​

'Ah.... So far so good.'

Thus the rearguard action slowed to a steady, strolling pace, collectively wheeling on a southwest/northeast axis, and in the increasing likelihood of Farnum's surviving presence, the likelihood of a widening static-line increased along with it. The Khanate's farthest east flank was more than capable of holding under the GADF's oblique-heavy counterattack formation, and under the circumstances, they were more than happy to throw in the grandest of ordnance contributions to blunt the effectiveness of the planet's sallying effort. Harrying every possible advance, though in the minds of the armoured marauders, these would be acts of punishment, retribution for having relied on the same strategic-dogpiling ploy already.

War was no place for predictable minds, this the Maw knew as one of the greatest constants to the Galaxy around them, and in those catastrophic moments when hubris was bared like steel from scabbards, the Khanate's many Marauders knew that deception was the greatest commodity. To appear strong when weak, and weak when strong, to slip through the cracks in enemy static-lines, like the rain that cooled the cogs of Dreamer's power-armour. This, every experienced Raider knew, and they were wise to make use of the cloudy downpour, (created from all the storms on the ground that day) and in the midst of constant warfighting-innovation, all were near-instinctively averse to playing to the same tune twice in a row.

'THATS MORE LIKE IT, MARAUDERS!!!! SPEED UP THE PROCESS A LITTLE - CLOCK'S TICKING AFTER ALL!!!!'

Almost baffled that Coruscant's defenders would dare entertain such deathly risks, but it made no difference to the Scav Kings whether the GADF were suicidal or not, and the Khanate right flank would stunt all OPFOR momentum in it's tracks.

'CHECK YOUR FIRE, PICK YOUR SHOTS FROM HERE - I GOT EYES ON FARNUM!!!! STRAIGHT AHEAD!!!!'

Regardless of any costly counteroffensive mistakes.

<"Ratchet to Dreamer! Ferals hold left flank, RP-1 safe - for now.">
<"I appreciate that, Ratchet. Hold for now, but ya got anything to report?">
<"Some Cirihut survivors, one-by-two, they add up.... And Khan will catch up.">
<"Huh? Well, as long as he's safe, thats fine.... Hold for now. Dreamer - out!">​

'Well - thats not helpful, Brother Shriven.'

​

Given no other option but to continue at his current trajectory, the Darkhan shrugged of the mystery in the hopes the Mastiff could explain the hows and the whys, almost praying that the course, half-broken Galactic Basic was decipherable enough to give the Bloodhound's protector a better understanding of the situation. A difficult situation to walk into willingly, even without the approaching counteroffensive considered, as Ratchet himself was large enough in frame to consider a perpetual threat, and strong enough that he could singlehandedly shatter Dreamer's warmask and the skull beneath it. Bringing about a nervous laughter, more a giggle than anything, but the battle would continue - advancing in uncaring disregard for the challenges of delegating Mantellians.

​

'KEEP THEM MOVING, WE'RE NEARING THE FIRST RALLYING-POINT!!!! LETS GO!!!!

 

[Mini Mongrels]

Abigail and Asher Jr Kala'myr

Information

Objective: Find uncle Tommy
Location: Streets of Coruscant
Equipment: Attire | BB-C4T || 2x OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran | Kybo Ren | Open

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Abigail | Asher Jr | Together​

The twins continued to wait and watched as their uncle, whom they had never met before, gave instructions to the other warriors, who continued on their way. The man stepped closer to them, then dropped to his knees. This was not really the reaction the children had expected, so they didn't really know what to do. Although the twins were born with a mature personality and quite a lot of knowledge, this was unknown to them. They had never encountered such a situation before. They knew, of course, that their uncle knew of their existence, as he was looking after one of their mothers when she was pregnant.

Only the meeting has been delayed until now. It wasn't exactly the kind of encounter the kids expected to meet Uncle Tommy on a battlefield, but life had brought it about. They had little choice. They both saw that the man recognised them, and knew who they were. What they didn't know was whether or not Mercy had shown him a picture of them, or if he just recognised them because the twins looked so much like their parents? They knew this too, because back home in the Netherworld, they had been told this by several people when they went somewhere together in the Sanctuary, the Seat of Ashla, or even the City of the Shadows.

"Yes, I'm Abi and this is Asher... we're the children of the people you know as Mercy and Mongrel." said the little girl.

At this point, the "cat-looking" BB-C4T droid also rolled up to the children and meowed in a feline voice in agreement. The children looked at the droid for a few moments, then back at the man and the little girl spoke again.

"And you're Uncle Tommy! We are so happy to finally meet you in person!" said the little girl with satisfaction.

It was clear that the children saw and sensed the situation they were in, that they were on a battlefield, because they reacted to the sounds and looked in that direction, or they would flinch when it seemed that someone was shooting in the direction they were or something was flying in the sky. But none of them showed fear. It was as if this was the most natural thing in the world to be around, or as if they were standing in a meadow and not in the middle of a war.

"How? We came through the rift that Mom... Mercy opened to come home from Realspace. And we were curious about Realspace and you, so we snuck over before the rift closed." the boy told the man this time.

Here the two children looked at each other, then back at the man.

"But as we can see, we may have picked the wrong time..." they said at exactly the same time. "But you're happy for us, aren't you?"

 

[Thomas Barran]

4th Post

ECHOES OF WAR
-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags (Friend): Mini Mongrels Kybo Ren

Tags (Foe):

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 7

RALLYING-POINT 1,
SLUM ZONE 4, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

'Yes, I'm Abi and this is Asher... we're the children of the people you know as Mercy and Mongrel.'

So I was right, these were the presences I sensed before.
I see, even feel the souls of my mentors.... Beating within the hearts o' their children.

But this was not the Galaxy I wished them to see, far from it.
​

Such joyous, lifelike vigor did not belong in an active warzone, though there was little and less that Thomas could do about it at the time, brought to his knees, unsure if his heart could withstand the deepest, most-discreet responsibility of all. After all, in order for Nature's Reclamation to mean something in the end, there had to be someone worthy to watch over a Galaxy built anew, someone free of the ways and the wiles of Realspace at the turn of the century. Too much had festered in the hearts of it's civilisations to allow such a realm to sully or jade the hearts of the youths standing before the Bloodhound at the time, too many had darkened their hearts to the prospect of a better tomorrow, and to such extremes that not even Barran himself could deny it any more - thus the presence of blessed souls would need to remain as a moment before it's due time.

​

'And you're Uncle Tommy! We are so happy to finally meet you in person!'

​

Like a lump rising in his throat, the significance of this encounter truly began to weigh on the Bloodhound, clawing at every temperament that kept the heaviest flows of emotion at bay, struggling to understand how such sweet, wholesome moments could become of the shocked Khan's ilk. Almost hearing a younger Mercy in Abi's voice, as if the tone of this mentor's incarnation still lacked the harsh, callous bite of the voice that scolded him in the aftermath of Tython, it was clear to Barran then that there was still a chance to wipe the slate clean after all, becoming a matter of faith and devotion once more. After twenty long years of waiting for a sign, the hidden purpose that drove the Maw to construct the Ark would reveal itself once more, that very spurring force that urged the Khanate to migrate to a new homeworld, and all pertaining to the hereafter.

It was no longer just talk, Nature was finally speaking with Rebirth's blessing, lighting the way for a lost, homesick Bloodhound.

'How? We came through the rift that Mom... Mercy opened to come home from Realspace. And we were curious about Realspace and you, so we snuck over before the rift closed.'

They were only curious, Barran.
You were much the same when you were-
​

Still wearing the golden skull at the time, the youths wouldn't be able to see the Bloodhound in the midst of his third nosebleed-migraine that day, remembering a long-forgotten moment from his first life, that which was lived many years before the twins' were born. But as soon as the twins continued,'But as we can see, we may have picked the wrong time...', in unison, the flashback of his last day on Galidraan III would be compartmentalised in prioritizing the twins above all things in that moment. Removing his mask as Abi and Asher concluded,'But you're happy for us, aren't you?', the twins would see soon enough that their uncle was happy for them, and happy to see them despite the tears in his eyes, as any trace of the Mongrel he once knew was an encounter Thomas realised was one he was meant to treasure.

'I am.... Rest assured, I am. After all, you've both given me reason to believe in myself again, a reason to believe in all that I'm fighting for now. So think not that it was the wrong time - an' see that its because your uncle wasn't ready.'

The waterworks flowing from the tear-duct that remained would be seen clear as day, almost as clearly as they could see the eyepatch covering the other, phantom eye, and perhaps even more profusely than the freeflowing sanguine still escaping from from the Khan's nostrils at the time; but the bearded smile would widen and shine through the pain, a life-affirming, toothy smirk, holding on despite all the suffering such wonder entailed. Holding his mask in his hands as one would an offering, but this time it was only to the rains over Coruscant, and with the sun slowly going down behind the clouds, the darkening of the world around them would only have left the Bloodhound appearing in the most sorry of sights.

From walking with shoulders back, appearing as if ready to conquer the cosmos in his vicious-looking golden mask, to the shock of realisation and renewed purpose in the moment he encountered his mentors' children for the time - brought to a kneeling, humbled low.

'I'm sorry, its just - existence has been weird t'your uncle over the years.'

That solemn vow Barran made to protect the twins, that resolute decision made under the agonies of telepathic torment, it made all the more sense under the darkening downpour; and in a surreal twist, this surge of revelation was dawning on the mind of an uncle who believed he would need to die all over again before finally getting to meet them, a small mercy awaiting in the wake of an untimely demise. Making the moment of finding them in realspace feel all the more profound, caring little and less that the time wasn't right, and more for what this might do to bolster a flagging will to keep fighting on, as there were no doubts by then that departing Mar'Zambul had forced it to wane.

Like a weakened Rhigaran moon, turning crescent under the darkening Galaxy within.

'It toys with me, plays tricks an' leaves me pondering on all I believed was real before. Ya see, your parents were there on the day of my resurrection, an' life's been a constant strangeness for me ever since, thus hearing your parents in your voices - it affects my soul.... Brings me a hope I know not if I deserve yet, but its hope all the same t'me.'

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 8

CORPORATE TOWER 2,
SLUM ZONE 1, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

DREAMER DARKHAN - 4

'Good to see you're still in the fight, Ulusar!'
​

Farnum still had energies left in him to expend, a good thing in the estimation of a Darkhan who was in dire need of it at the time, quickly replying,'Likewise, my young friend.', as he arose from the overturned speeder that served as his makeshift seat. Embracing as brothers would in the moment their hands made fraternal contact, Dreamer smiled again under his warmask for moment, though his composure was regained by the time he inquired,'You ready for some more?', ready to Witness and Recognise the hopeful on the spot for the Darkhan-potential he carried.

'Water, supplies, everything's here.... So if not now, then it won't be long before I will be.'

​

Smiling in mild satisfaction, the renegade Chiss removed his warmask and his human subordinate then followed suit, accepting one of the Darkhan's cigarras whilst Dreamer was in the process of lighting his own, a small, rare solace of calm in a sea of tumult that would serve to reinvigorate the rearguard retreat. A small jolt of energy from which both Dreamer and Farnum would benefit greatly, thus no further breaths of excitement would be wasted on idle chit-chat, not while their boots still remained to stand on Coruscanti ground. All they could do by then was watch as the rain fell on the grounds beyond their makeshift smoking-shelter, sitting serene as the booms and sonic thuds resonated elsewhere in the city, seemingly someone else's problem for as long as it took the GADF's counteroffensive to find their momentum again, and consequently, someone else's problem for as much breathing-room as their opposition were willing to give the retreating rearguard.

​

'ULUSAR!!!! FERALS READY - WHAT NOW?!?!'

Though such moments of solace were never meant to last, not with all urgency weighing down on the Champions of Marauderdom.

'WE MOVE OR NO?!?!'

Stress-rubbing at his own eyelids, the red gaze would eventually rise to meet the shadowy gaze of the hulking Mantellian in the distance, but in the moment Dreamer exclaimed,'Not so fast there, Mastiff! Rest easy knowing we're leaving for RP-2 in a few minutes, but when we get there - you and I are going to have ourselves a little chat!', all semblance of irritation would be dispelled for everyone's sake. Earnest urgency (and only that in the hands of the Mawsworn) was wanted at this late stage of the fight for Coruscant, and in diligent need for information, the Darkhan would endeavour to make sense of his leader's decisions before long, and hopefully at some point before they left the planet's surface that day.

'Focus on rearming for now! Orders pending!'

 

[Mini Mongrels]

Abigail and Asher Jr Kala'myr

Information

Objective: Find uncle Tommy
Location: Streets of Coruscant
Equipment: Attire | BB-C4T || 2x OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran | Kybo Ren | Open

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Abigail | Asher Jr | Together​

The twins have seen war, of course, they have seen fighting, but always from a distance. One of the sad features of Sanctuary was that it was built in a place where the Valkyrja were constantly under attack by demons. Though typically unsuccessfully. But the sad feature had important significance; the city was built there precisely to best protect those in need and those fleeing the demons. So the twins had seen much of the fighting outside the high walls, but it was still very different from what it had been here on Coruscant. True, that was a completely different world, the afterlife, the Netherworld.

The twins belonged to this world, to Realspace, yet they felt like strangers. Both their fathers and their other mother didn't want them to see combat or learn to fight, and their other mother (Mercy) didn't care. Which is ironic, because their biological parents were probably some of the best fighters in the Galaxy, but neither taught them. Sure, the twins were taught some self-defence, which everyone else in Valkyrja City was, but they still had telepathy and empathy as their greatest weapons.

But returning to the present, the twins were still watching their uncle, who continued to kneel in front of them, while the sound of fighting could still be heard in the distance. The children looked confused when Uncle Tommy said he was not prepared for them. Even though they had a mature and evolved mind before they were born, they did not understand this; their parents knew this, but they nevertheless tried as much as possible to treat them as children and give them a proper childhood, for which the children were very grateful and happy. Now, however, they looked at each other in some confusion at the man's words, and finally Abi spoke again.

"Were you not prepared? In this world, it's been twenty years since we were born, if we know that right..." said the little girl; thankfully, time might pass differently in the Netherworld, the twins were only around thirteen.

"Or weren't you prepared for us to be here?" Asher asked the man.

The twins knew that it all started the day Uncle Tommy returned from the dead, and they knew that their parents had almost left Durace that day, before he returned from the dead. A few times, they wondered how their parents' and their own fate would have turned out if Uncle Tommy had not been placed with the Scar Hounds at the time. But then they both smiled when the man mentioned their parents and hope.

And it was the first time the twins talked about not being in a safe place at the moment.

"This place doesn't look very safe. Should we run away or go somewhere safe?" they asked again all at once.

 

[Thomas Barran]

5th Post

ECHOES OF WAR
-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags (Friend): Mini Mongrels Kybo Ren

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 9

​

RALLYING-POINT 1,
SLUM ZONE 4, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

'Its alright, its quiet in this little urban corner now. All the fighting's been done on this front as far as I know....'
​

Unsheathing the Mongrel's greatsword as he arose from his knees, drawing with the right hand as tears were wiped away with his left, the Bloodhound slowly extended the blade in low-pointing presentation as he calmly drawled,'An' with this, you can rest assured you're safe for as long as you remain under my protection.', continuing on from his initial, reactive response with his one-remaining eye then darting from Abigail to Asher II. Thomas knew the lad would doubtlessly carry that same curiosity that drew the gaze of Asher I in much the same way, though time (and long-discussed permissions with their mother) would need to be the judge of whether this blade would fall into the son's hands or not.

'Your day will come, lad. Be patient.... I'm confident my work will find it's way into your hands, an' soon.'

Forged from salvaged metal, as was still the Scar Hounds' way in forging weapons for single-combat, the tribe's progenitor had marvelled at the Beskar wonder his Woad-born disciple smithed personally for his mentor, crafting and shaping a greatsword that would assure the Mongrel's status as the most-dangerous swordsman of the era. A weapon so potent in Asher I's hands that even Thomas' Romphaia paled in comparison, and for all it's curved menace, Eclipse always seemed to appear like a toy when compared with the Warlord's own, the only other blade of the sort to be crafted on Rhigar. It was everything and more to all Mawsworn who recognised,"The Mongrel's Greatsword", from the years of the Second Great Hyperspace War, thus this Barran-crafted wonder would always be fated to take on a new purpose in the hereafter, shifting with the times from a weapon of war to a sceptre of spiritual importance.

And if the sword could pass through the rift in the right hands, and before it was Barran's time to die - Barran himself believed that bequeathment to the son would be a massive step in the right direction.

'Though as for the reasons as to why I wasn't ready, there are a few, though I'll keep it specific for your sake.... Emotionally and personally thus, and for the fact I haven't yet earned the right to see your faces, for in order to achieve it, I expected I would need to die with this sword in my hands before my wish was granted. As such would be my only redemption now, for I slew mine own father for the crime of slaying yours.'

Grand was the example of Galactic decay, that which was to be eradicated in wiping the slate clean, but in it lay a sincerity of their uncle's commitment to making a better cosmos for the two wonders standing before him like a modern miracle of theological extreme. As on this sentient ground, and in it's most-vulnerable state in decades, even Barran himself knew there was a chance demons from the Nether could find the rift and spill out to devastate planets like Coruscant, especially with the nearest forces in such a broken-down state of operability at the time. Those same demons beyond Sedes Aurea, (with whom Thomas also shared his time between lives) those hands that still snatched at the one-eyed Woad in his dreams, that force of shadowy despair was that which awaited the Great Khan's failure - as doom awaited all who dared to leave good works unfinished.

All, and everyone the knowing ever knew.

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 10

​

CORPORATE TOWER 2,
SLUM ZONE 2, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

DREAMER DARKHAN - 5

'Relax, Brothers! The sector's ours for now!'​

Slum Zone 1 was evacuated without contest, though GADF elements began to nip at their heels by the time they reached the outskirts of the second fallback point, a hindrance and a danger alike that none of the Mawsworn were willing to leave unchecked, prompting Dreamer's tactical pairing of Farnum and Gouger so as to keep the exemplars working toward Trilunar Recognition. Performing remarkably well in the following minutes, the next wave of chasing-attack would meet with a much sterner rearguard than they were expecting at that stage of the GADF's sallying advance - thus the next defensive wave of attack would be repulsed with ease and timely efficiency.

After that, it would merely be a case of moving all vulnerable elements onto the ships that would carry it all to the Ark, back to the safety of the Migration's mothership-station, though the issue of their Great Khan's whereabouts still remained unresolved. Though fortunate the Darkhan was that the Mastiff was close by, and when he cursorily nodded in Gouger's direction to confirm he was heard loud and clear, all that remained was the next (and perhaps the last-) phase of the Mawsworn retreat when Dreamer eventually roared out,'Alright, lets evacuate the wounded first before we head out for our leader! GET THEM MOVING TO THE PADDOCKS!!!!', for everyone's antsy, anxious sake at the cusp of their evacuation.

'FARNUM, GOUGER, RATCHET - ON ME!!!!'

​

Like a rushing tide, everyone who remained arose to lurch southward collectively, leaving the three commanders to hold the sector alone, just under a mile away from the spot where Barran was at the time. A strange feeling, and for all three remaining Mawsworn commanders at the time, even with Marauders still within sight and earshot, that creeping eeriness of solitude was sensed as if they heard it screaming in the distance. The active surviving subordinates would doubtlessly return northward again soon, though there was no use telling Dreamer or the Marauder-trio of such a thing at the time, as they knew that deathly silence would only grow louder as more of the last boots on the ground departed, an excrutiating silence of which all who felt it would know well by then.

'Before ask, Great Khan is safe.... But he want time with - this difficult.... Time with Mongrel's children, they come through Rift, from Nether.'

Soft was the rain as it calmed from torrential to something far more tolerable for everyone still in the fight, but as for all the Mantellian was admitting, only restlessness could answer such a revelation. For all that they would ever endeavour as Raiders would matter all the more with this knowledge, as any reassured legacy of the sort would for the Mawsworn in such times, a reaffirmation of faith if ever there was anything like it for the Khanate since the fall of the Empire; but it still didn't quite sit right with the Darkhan, more eager than ever to find out what the Mastiff saw in parting with the Bloodhound, though he would need to wait for the others to return before any westward search could be initiated.

But the renegade Chiss was nothing, if not patient.

'The moment your subordinates return, all three of you are coming westward with me - and not a moment later, understand?'

 

[Mini Mongrels]

Abigail and Asher Jr Kala'myr

Information

Objective: Find uncle Tommy
Location: Streets of Coruscant
Equipment: Attire | BB-C4T || 2x OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran | Kybo Ren | Open

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Abigail | Asher Jr | Together​

The twins watched with interest as Uncle Tommy drew the huge sword. The children wondered if the members of the Scar Hounds Tribe knew that the twins' father was nowhere near the person he was when he led the Tribe, but a very different one. He was then controlled by the Maw and Tu'teggacha, the chains that eventually got him killed, the chains that the twins' mother was only too late to break. In any case, the children had learned from the members of Valkyrja that you should never touch the blade of a weapon, because in many cases it could harm the blade, so none of the children touched it to do so.

"I don't think dad would be happy if the sword was Asher's." Abi said, looking sternly at her brother.

"You probably really do have the best place for it." the boy finally replied to his uncle, reluctantly, after his sister's words.

They knew the nearly seventy years, the alternate reality where their parents had aged together in human bodies, and the fact that they had both existed there for the first time. Ironically, their other parents' dream was to have a son and a daughter; but the children found that interesting. They also knew that they had a normal life where they didn't have to fight. There Asher became an athlete and Abi became an artist. But the children in this world found it boring and wanted to be different from what they were. It was a different life, a different world. They didn't have to be the same.

The children shook their heads vigorously at the man's next words.

"But we're not dead, we're alive." they said, somewhat defiantly, again all at once. "And we know your dad, he's such a grandfather figure to us... dad forgave him for killing him, true mum never did... but dad and granddad are on good terms and he visits us often."

The twins expected that he would not be happy with this answer. So Abi quickly went on with the previous ones.

"The Valkyrja teaches that everyone over there has a second chance after they die and they help everyone. They saved my father, who can now live the life he wanted with my mother... and us." she told him, and from her words and voice it was clear that she understood what she was saying, not just childish words.

"Why are you still helping Solipsis? He's the reason dad died... and your dad too." he told him, and like his sister, he gave him a hint that he was more mature than he looked.

Then they both lifted their heads and looked around, and finally their eyes stopped in one direction. Again, they spoke at the same time.

"Many approach this with hostile intent." they told their uncle.

 

[Thomas Barran]

6th Post

ECHOES OF WAR
-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags (Friend): Mini Mongrels

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 11

​

RALLYING-POINT 1,
SLUM ZONE 4, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

​

As Thomas' hands were tied on his end, the twins' hands were kept away from Asher's sword, but in a heartfelt understanding of their restraint, patiently kept quiet and showed a restraint of his own. Smiling in maintained, silent earnest, even as the youths responded with all that they knew of the legendary rivalry shared between the Sword of Order and his Chaos counterpart, limited by their own need for timeline-context as the Bloodhound himself was in turn, though the contrast would become apparent as to what points in time they were seeking.

And in the hereafter, that which the one-eyed Woad was seeking in persistant, nagging curiosity, the truth he was seeking would find him - answering endless questions in the way that Asher and Erskine treated each other after their deaths.

Even in the previous confusion on how Thomas could reach them in the Nether, knowing he would never pass beyond the Rift as a living soul meant little and less by then, as the truth of the final duel was made present and real to near-tangible extreme; Asher had known of Erskine's ability to counter his signature sword-strike, and in the dream and desire to live the life he always wanted, ignored his survival-instincts in a lasting act of faith. Wiping away fresh tears in the intent to thank the twins for their revelation, the Bloodhound was smiling when he heard the mistaken thought that Solipsis was responsible, and though the Emperor himself was responsible for all the worst things that came to pass, the smile dropped in the understanding that the Stormchaser's passing was the Bloodhound's own doing.

Almost unable to register the assumption that the Tri-Lunar Clique were helping Solipsis, and though it would've received a shrug in other cases, Barran couldn't help but ponder as he replied,'Only the living, only the living are never supposed to know.... Lucky you are that you get to dance in both worlds, truly.', trailing off in ponderance on all the Emperor himself was responsible for destroying during his first reign. But in the understanding of all that the tribe and the Khanate had become since the Mongrel's reign, in finding grander kinship with Carlac's soldiers than the Maw would with the noble, ruling caste, in learning what love could do to fuel a warrior's heart in battle, the Bloodhound quickly realised how far they had come without the Sith'ari and his monstrous friends.

'Ya know, you're absolutely right, too many do treat this subject with hostility.... But.... I fear that far too much credit is lended the Sith'ari in this matter, an' while I'm on the subject, I must admit that Solipsis perished a little while after your father's cybernetic passing, thus mine own father's passing.... Could only be blamed - on me.... Yer idiotic Uncle Thomas!'

In hindsight, the one-eyed Woad knew there was more to his father's unwillingness to defend against a blade he faced on multiple occasions, just as he suspected there was more to Asher's demise in turn, but Lord Erskine's would be the one last-request that haunted Khan Thomas most acutely in these moments. A shade of distinct, abyssal depth, groaning,"Protect Michael's children, protect them as you would Asher's own - the future is everything!", through final, agonal breaths, etched into core recesses of the Khan's mind. Ragged, wheezing death-rattles of which (despite hearing many, horrible variations of the sort over the years) the Bloodhound knew at the time would stay with him for the rest of his second life.

'An' it seems that your Papa Erskine's gone an' left that explanation to me, though I personally think he's been fair to do so. But here's the thing.... I think your father has requested the same ask of me, but without your insight here today, I would not have known how.... As in the moment our fathers stood to fight for the last time, your father sacrificed his physical, real-space form to live in the embrace of Sedes Aurea - to be with you forevermore.... Sacrificing himself for something better, as my own father did just a few years later.'

It was enough to make smarter, better-adjusted minds spin in confusion, as it was for Barran himself in these moments, still trying to piece everything together in the attempt to make sense of it all. As any self-correcting curse would in suchlike situations, and with the last-surviving layer of the curse unable to break the worst of all cycles, living as a tool for violence would never allow them to learn of an intended target's forgiveness, not until it was much too late to find another way. Heartache could only follow in the wake of such powerlessness, and in the understanding that mentor and father alike still owed him endless explanations, (reasons for all these deathly, vengeful games of theirs) Barran quickly realised the twins were owed that much - and so much more.

'But with these unspoken intentions came untold curses, cycles-within-cycles that curse all who dare to dream, thus I was robbed of the father who raised me from death, an' by the very same father who condemned me to that death.... An' those unspoken, peaceful intentions took twenty-seven years to reach my ears, long after the truth was needed.... Cursed to live on as a murderer, as my own father was - twice over.'

​

Once again, the Khan's one-remaining eye was weeping in freeflow, forced to recall the ragged breathing of his father once more, but this time Barran's mind would be met with the recollection of his father's cold, grey-blue irises. Normally set in a furious glare wherever he went, Thomas had been shocked at the time to find warmth, kindness and unconditional love where judgement for weakness once resided, a forgiveness so pure that the Bloodhound still struggled to make sense of it in the following decades. Working through the truth with his newfound family, in mind as much as conversation, the twins would see and hear it in the cracks of their uncle's voice when he continued,'Aye.... Quite complicated, so it is. Though there is one matter I can answer more easily, afore I forget an' aw the rest of it.', feeling confusion, guilt and horror in a revelation he still felt he did not yet deserve.

'On the Solipsis matter.... The Sith'ari always did fancy himself a master over fate, a master capable of making such cycles a reality, but only the living can count themselves responsible; and in order t'break these cycles that beset us, even now, we must rid this Galaxy of all it's corruption.... Barbarism began at home, but thats where the change began as well - as it was in the midst of that barbarism where Marauders learned to love each other.'

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 12

​

CORPORATE TOWER 2,
SLUM ZONE 2, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

DREAMER DARKHAN - 6

'ULUSAR!!!! STATIC LINE FORMED!!!!'
​

'GOOD, SEND THE DEPLETED REMNANTS NEXT!!!!', the renegade Chiss replied, and just in time to see the first evacuation ships lifting off in the distance, cues to encourage a sense of fluid continuity in the evacuation process. The first Mawsworn evacuation of it's sort was running smoothly, and much to the relief of the Darkhan as the sky continued to darken all around them, a darkness that would offer perfect cover; and in the thickness of the clouds that continued to darken with the gathering night's shroud, the extra breathing-room would invite more in the way of working focus, pushing with the cold rain's bite to keep all semblance of distraction at bay.

'Alright.... Thats the order sent by the looks of it.... We leavin' now?'

With Ratchet running back towards the other commanders, Dreamer would have no reason to deny Farnum's encouragement to move, arising from his seated position to growl,'Yes, Farnum.... Yes we are.', in mild irritation. As like the others, the Darkhan was also enjoying the rain's cold reinvigoration at the time, but in the eager prompting, relented in appreciation of that same need to find and exfiltrate the Great Khan. Even looking into the stormy skies above for a moment to himself, a moment of which Farnum was kind enough not to disturb, and not even Ratchet would complain when his hulking cadence finally reached his comrades, coincidentally seen doing the same thing by the time the renegade Chiss brought his gaze down to eye-level.

<"Alright, Marauders.... Its time for everyone else to leave, depart for the paddocks - we'll be right behind.... Our battle is done.">
​

The second wave of evacuations would lift off in the distance as the rest of the Mawsworn armies stood to leave, creating quite the silhoutted backdrop in the midst of their clean, unchallenged retreat. Even with just four commanders standing between the evacuation's closing stages and the planet's defense forces, even though just Darkhan's handpicked few had been fighting these forces all day, the four exemplars were more than aware of their safety in the last stage of collective retreat; the breathing-room offered was clearly more than just lulling for error, and with the GADF assumingly contented holding the Senate District until reinforcements arrived, Dreamer knew he was safe from the clutches of hubris.

'Watch 'em go, boys.... If we survive this next part, we can celebrate this success together.'

 

[Mini Mongrels]

Abigail and Asher Jr Kala'myr

Information

Objective: Find uncle Tommy
Location: Streets of Coruscant
Equipment: Attire | BB-C4T || 2x OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran | Kybo Ren | Open

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Abigail | Asher Jr | Together​

The twins continued to listen with interest to Uncle Tommy's words. But they did not blame their uncle. They knew that on the day their father died on Tython, they had all been ordered by Solipsis to wear runes so that their souls would be extinguished after their deaths in a ritual performed by the current Emperor to carry out his plans. And they also knew that their father would not allow the Heathen Priests to cast it on their mother. They also knew that their mother had broken their father's rune to get him into the Netherworld. True, even then the man wouldn't have been free, because the Dark Three still wanted his soul for themselves, but Auntie Eina eventually worked it out, she saved the twins' father and healed him.

"It wasn't your fault, don't blame yourself." they said to the man again at once.

They knew that without the sun, they would not have existed; they knew that if their parents on Tython had not existed then, because of the reality-breaking in the alternative reality their parents, especially their mother, had built, they would not exist now. And of course, it took Auntie Eina for the two of them to be here now, since their father hadn't had a physical body for quite some time when he died, only his brain existed.

"He sacrificed himself so that Mum could be free, but he achieved the opposite. Mom wanted them to run away and leave the Maw behind with him, but Dad couldn't do it then. Dad went there and died so Mom could live, without him, without the chains that he caused to her." she told him.

"But he didn't know that he was tightening the chains around Mum by dying. Because she had nothing left to live for but revenge. In hindsight, he realised that the worst decision he had ever made was to go to duel with Papa Erskine." Asher added to her sister's words.

Most children, most young people, didn't know that, or if they did, it would have crippled them for life. But the twins knew this when they were a few months old, or maybe even earlier, thanks to how weird and special they were. They could indeed have been Tu'teggacha's masterpieces, thanks to the intervention of Ashla's Avatar.

And time, time was something that was perhaps strange to them, or not strange, but in the Netherworld time passed differently. That's why the twins could only be as young as they were, when in reality much more time had passed. And they knew that time passed differently for their parents, because all four of them were left alone with each other for longer periods, even though they could be there for the twins. So time was a very strange thing where they lived.

"Time has been different for us, as you can see. And did you not think that your father let you kill him for exactly the same thoughts and reasons, because he thought himself cursed for killing others?" they asked again at once.

After that Uncle Tommy mentioned Solipsis again. The twins heard their mother tell their father that she was coming back to kill Darth Solipsis . They knew what their mother was like, how stubborn and hard to talk her out of anything, but the same was true of their father. And it was true for them. They never read their parents' minds, their mother, both of them, would certainly have felt this, and perhaps even their two fathers because of the Force-less dyads between their parents. So they could only guess that their father was not happy that their mother came back for revenge.

"Mom has come back to kill Solipsis again and send him back to where he belongs, the Netherworld." they said again, all at once.

 

[Thomas Barran]

7th Post

ECHOES OF WAR
-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags (Friend): Mini Mongrels

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 13

​

SLUM ZONE 4, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

Always in hindsight.... Always.
​

Whether Barran wished it or not, whether it brought him peace or not, all the closure he needed would be granted regardless of all the confliction inflicted on the mind. Thus in that closure Thomas would need to accept the fact that fate had been cruel, even apathetic in the uncaring choice of nominating the Swords of Order and Chaos as champions, as no cause would be just or righteous enough to nurture great generals for the greatest, most-terrible war of the 9th Century.

The old man should have fled Bastion, but in his dutybound responsibilities to the Empire - perished with the realm he had fought so viciously to defend for so long.

The twins had a point after all, and in their fresh perspective sat another, altogether more-hurtful memory with which the Bloodhound would need to wrestle for a while, as even in the years before the end of his first life, namely the last, Lord Erskine had already sent more than his fair share of souls to the Nether by the time they set out for the Second Battle of Ziost. From the Kaleesh, to the Sith and even those of his officers who sneered or laughed at the wrong moments, the Stormchaser had more than his fair share of sins to carry through the Rift with him, giving more than enough precedence for such self-sacrificial intentions in Lord Erskine's final hours.

'Fair point.... Fair point indeed.'

"Thinking", his son would follow his mentor's final, signature sword-strike to the straight, Tython-clean technique for which the Mongrel was always known, the one-eyed Wraith himself knew that this was the exact same strike his father used against Asher, and still, not a single evasion or lateral-lean would dare evade the counter. There was little wonder as to how Lord Erskine had found so much within himself to reveal before the end, little wonder as to how he could feel so comfortable revealing everything to a man he wasn't even sure was his son any more, as it was no longer just a matter of father and son, but a need to confess his sins as a father, warrior, commander and leader before enacting the intent to slip through the veil they called,"The Rift", once and for all.

'Yes.... I had a feeling Mercy's vendetta would eventually find mention here.... But I must admit, I know not how to break that curse before we reach the point of no-return.... Yet, even then, its not a matter of capability, for I fear my sister may be chasing a ghost at this stage. Solipsis, he always was illusive, but now - I haven't the foggiest clue of his whereabouts.... An' that vexes me more than Mercy's curse does, the worst mystery of all!'

​

If Mercy could find peace, or even closure in her heart, and by any other means than the path to doom on which she had been walking on for some time already, the Bloodhound knew his own path to inner peace would start to make more sense. There had to be more to the role of Great Khan than a mere shelter for lost, vicious souls, more to the hands with which he used to fight for their prosperity, and with that, more to the words that rang as incantations to the hearts of his Marauders. If love could bloom between Mawsworn without forcing or coercing arrangements to make it so, if familial guardianships can be cast over the Raider caste, and without so much as a second thought, then surely the Matriarch's healing process was also fated to become possible.

The only thing getting in the way of making Mercy truly formidable, a true conqueror, was the Khan's clear lack of insight and know-how to make it possible, or at least, this was how Thomas personally viewed the matter. Understandably, at the root of it all he was just a worried brother, worrying in his hope that his sister would thrive in the next century - as Asher II would for Abigail in time.

'I know she doesn't want help, but we all know she needs it, we all know its the only way to bring Mercy back from the brink.... An' in that same regard, an' as loathe as I am to admit it in turn - I also need help.'

​

A low to which the Khan would never openly admit to stooping in the future, but it was necessary, especially if a Bloodhound was expected to give a damn about the lost, the doomed souls of the Galaxy, especially if he wished to continue being a good brother. Yet life always had a funny way of sending it's messages loud and clear, small affirmations of good keeping with one's personal path to glory, and in the moment skyward flashes of light caught the inner periphery of his remaining, wild-blue left eye, Thomas would have all the assurance he would ever need to know he was still on the right track. Seeking out the mysteries of the Galaxy and all the realspace realms beyond, seeking out the worlds within and beyond the veil of sentient perception, and for as long as the Maw continued to wipe the slate clean, nothing would distract the Bloodhound beyond that point.

'Looks like the rearguard action was a success.... Thats my friends lifting off into orbit there. We saved lives today! Heh! An' now Uncle Tommy wants t'make a habit o' that there, breaking vicious traditions as the curses they were, but those curses are easy-mode - always have been.'

Though as for whatever his destined fate had in mind - those cruel hands always had their own plans.

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 14

​

SLUM ZONE 2, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

DREAMER DARKHAN - 7

'For what we did there, the Maw will remember us for centuries.... But don't go forgetting the implications, don't even dare.'

I know I won't.
Not for as long as I continue to draw breath.
​

Watching as the last few ships launched off for the Ark, gazing on in the dark as the jetstreams shot away into the cloudy, gloomy night sky above, the four who remained were happy to have completed an objective worth endeavouring. Thus the pretty view of comrades bursting upward through the orbital sphere, bright and colourful though it was to behold on a bed of gloomy night clouds, would only come second fiddle to the satisfaction of achieving something so worthwhile in their eyes, as every last stride and shoulder-recoiled shot had been for the sake of their Tribal brethren that day. However, with great achievement came lowered life-expectancies, and drastically so, and of this the four warriors were under no illusions whatsoever.

They had expressed their understanding with knowing, silencing glances between each other before the last launch even jetted off before them, but like with all things Mawsworn, their peace was made with Mother Rebirth already, so all would know that there was no use grumbling about all that could have been. Their fates were being rather peculiar of late, and to each a greatest Mawsworn asset a man who was ready to embrace whatever followed the existential tremors, and when Gouger eventually spoke up for the others and replied,'We'll stick to this for as long as its known to be possible.... In any case, Ulusar. My soul is ready - come what may. Please guide us to the Khan.', the Darkhan knew the young warrior was speaking from a position of solemn, heartfelt sincerity.

'So be it, my young friend.... What a shame it is that you did not leave with the others, as I would have been honoured to let you lead the Scav Kings in my stead - but it is what it is.... And I'm still glad you're here with us.'

'Same! Farnum right!'
​

'As am I, Brothers.... As am I, and I'm proud of each and every last one of you. As above, so below.', the renegade Chiss chimed in after the Mantellian, and though it served as a timely interjection, Dreamer Darkhan's rapport with the others had made something encouraging of the moment. Reason enough to prime their firearms, their armour and every last IED right then and there, and though the four warriors would go through the expected motions without another word said, all would take a moment to gaze back on the successful exfiltration of the Mawsworn contingent, just to look upon the curse they broke together for the last time. Not even the Darkhan could resist a glance of his own at the back of the departing few, but in time, his back would turn to the light with a muttered,'Lead the way, Ratchet.', throwing on his warmask in preparation for the daunting task ahead.

'Your wish - my command, Ulusar.... Slum Four not far.'

​

Though good time had been made in the evacuation of Mawsworn assets, there still wasn't enough of a window of opportunity to waste, as tarrying would incur the risk of blaster and IED-shrapnel alike, and none of the remaining four were keen on proceeding with the GADF and Mandalorian Protectors constantly breathing down their neck. Stealth, evasion and haste were the only strategically-sound doctrines they had left, as without reinforcements, the four Mawsworn warriors would have nothing in the way of immediate cover and fire-support. To the Ark where the ships were escaping, there would be no return without other, grander preparations getting in the way, with all being time-consuming mobilisation processes that would certainly quicken the demise of the unwary, processes of which the renegade Chiss could not afford to wait out by then.

'Eyes open, ears sharp - switch on your NV-Lenses if you've got 'em.... Pointman sets the pacing, you're good to go.'

The four warriors were on their own, in a city full of enemies.
And with no means of making the odds any easier for themselves.
The only lifeline on the surface that night would be one luxury sloop.

Sitting fuelled on Landing Paddock Three, but with a visible collection of scrapes and scratches.

 

[Mini Mongrels]

Abigail and Asher Jr Kala'myr

Information

Objective: Find uncle Tommy
Location: Streets of Coruscant
Equipment: Attire | BB-C4T || 2x OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran | Kybo Ren | Open

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Abigail | Asher Jr | Together​

"You see?" the twins asked the man, all at once, with satisfaction.

Then the mother of the twins came up, which was a less than pleasant conversation. The twins knew full well that their mother could easily die in the action that brought her back to the Realspace. But this was something even the twins' father could not talk his wife out of. The twins didn't know how much their parents could have argued about this, as they would rather go out to play so as not to hear it, or perhaps their parents were silently, telepathically arranging it so that the twins wouldn't experience any of it. Regardless, they knew things, even things that their parents wanted to hide from them.

They knew that all four of their parents were quite stubborn, the other question was who was the most stubborn. The twins had inherited that too, so they knew exactly that they wouldn't really be able to talk Mercy out of anything she wanted. They couldn't even before, when the twins' mother was pregnant with them. Now that she knew she could return to him after her death, she had even less to lose. If that were to happen, only the twins would be left, so to speak, alive in the family. Sure, their other mother and their two fathers were alive and existed with physical bodies in the Netherworld, but that was still different from their other mother or their own existence.

"Before your dad mortally wounded ours, Mom swore to him that she would kill anyone who had anything to do with his death or who ever hurt him. It's not a curse, it's an oath she refuses to break because she did it for Dad. Just like she swore to stay with him forever and love him." they told him.

At the part about not knowing where Solipsis was, the twins just grinned. There was no way of knowing if they knew anything, or why they were doing it. However, the Bloodhound was not left without an answer, because the twins spoke again.

"Mum is like a hound, once she has sniffed out where he is, she doesn't lose sight of him and finds him. She's very well connected everywhere." they told him again.

Although the twins didn't say it outright, it was pretty clear that they were implying that Mercy was a great agent and spy. After all, she had already set up a spy network in the Mongrel-led Tribe to protect him. And since then, she has only grown in influence in this area, thanks to her appointment as one of the leaders of Nite. Though this was something the twins didn't know, only that their mother had many contacts from whom she got important information from both dimensions. At his next words, the twins nodded their heads slightly to the side. They didn't really know what to say.

"Do we have the right to stop her from reneging on her vow to the love of her life?" they asked him.

The twins did not know the answer, they had no experience of this, so they asked their uncle. They both hoped that he would be able to answer them. Meanwhile, they looked in the direction in which the shuttles had lifted into the air and were leaving the planet. And Uncle Tommy was happy that lives had been saved and his men had escaped. The mother of the twins was no longer on the planet, she had left long before. The twins looked at the ships for a few moments, then finally looked back at their uncle.

"So we're leaving now? Where will we go?" they asked him again.

 

[Thomas Barran]

8th Post

ECHOES OF WAR
-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH

Tags (Friend): Mini Mongrels

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 15

​

SLUM ZONE 4, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

Trapped in the curse, I know it in my heart that this is a curse.
An' if the future can't help 'er heal, then I must.

It is not for the future to know of those enthralled to destiny.
​

Disappointed though the Great Khan was to hear the twins' perspective of a vow Thomas himself thought was worthless, he knew better than to judge family for the content of their countering perspectives, as in Barran's mind, the only way to break Solipsid curses was by breaking the very same vicious cycles that bound the Maw to his will so effectively the first time around. Making it apparent that the Bloodhound's, and in the same way, Mercy's only means of doing so was by embracing all that was denied in falling prey to the Dark Lord's dark games, shaking off deathloop patterns in covetous desire for all that made life worth living again.

Oh, if only it was all so simple.​

This leap into the depths of damnation, as Thomas could personally attest in the moments after he drove the Mongrel's blade into his father's chest, was never once a path his mentor would have wanted for Mercy, or at least - not as far as the Bloodhound was aware in the time they had known each other in life.

For all that threatened Mercy's final chance to find lasting happiness, or even closure for that matter, Thomas knew in his heart that these vows to kill and die alike had already been made for the Matriarch's sake, made to ensure she never needed to make suchlike vows of her own. But for all that the Great Khan wished to lecture and rant on sacrifices already made, he knew that certain lessons were beyond the authority of an uncle to teach, and on matters as delicate as those on self-sacrificial acts of love and devotion, Barran knew that these lessons were only for parents, and parents alone to teach. So the one-eyed Woad bit down on his words, inwardly reminding himself that these youths were not like his own, and in the same thought, chided within the mind on the truth that the twins deserved better than the embroilment of the adults' problems.

Yet for all the dismay the Bloodhound would keep to himself, the dutiful uncle would still (though inadvertently-) display a certain hope for a better tomorrow, a visible desire to find a reason d'etre for all who helped Thomas to find his own, a visible manifestation of an empathy the one-eyed Woad had assumed was dead and rotting within. Whether it was in taking influence from his mentors' children, by way of jail-cell revelation late at night, not even Barran himself could say for certain; not knowing the power it gave him, both then and on the day of his mentor's passing, clueless of the fact it would become the most-potent weapons in the Bloodhound's arsenal.

In time, the youths may yet know the answer.
But like it was with my master's sword, Mercy's curse can't be broken yet either.

Be patient, Thomas.... Be patient - Be p-​

'No cautious way out then.... So be it.'

After all, that same empathy had changed the course of the Khanate's history, and more than enough times already; but when the last of the Maw's ships had burst out from Coruscant's orbit, casting little blue shockwaves in their wake, Thomas would look to the skies once more. Only then allowing himself to grimace, inhaling with a sigh in the realisation that his own path to the Ark was much less certain than that of his subordinates above, finally remembering the twins' inquiry on the matter as he concluded,'Unsure as to how or when you're leaving, but in the context of those breaking orbit up there - their job is done here.... Jus' like yer Uncle Tommy, but I'd rather hang on a while an' await your guide home. Not leaving you undefended, not even for a moment.', softening his expressions once more to a demeanour of calm confidence for their sake.

Aided somewhat by a detected presence of which he recognized well, and though this individual would likely appear even more disappointed than she had on the night the Bloodhound slew his own father, Thomas was confident the Ashlan Valkyrie would do the right thing when faced with the twins' presence in Realspace. What would surely keep Barran's head on his shoulders, however, was the clear and present intent to comply with Eina's demands, fully-comprehending her ability to traverse freely through the Rift, having seen the Valkyrie's abilities in action twice by then.

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VII: WHERE CHAINS THREATEN AGAIN - PART 16

​

SLUM ZONE 2, CORUSCANT (901 ABY)

DREAMER DARKHAN - 8

'Lads... On me.'
​

The farther the four Marauders moved westward, the more patrols they found, and since they were outnumbered ever more with every street they cleared along the way, even the Mantellian was resigned to staying low and as stealthy as his large frame would permit. Some of the city's defenders would perish in lapsing cohesions across each patrol-line this way, as many expected to be fired upon before ever getting close enough to see any OPFOR, a hubris of which all four warriors were willing and excited to oblige wherever they went.

Even as Dreamer's chosen few closed in at their latest stop along the way, the renegade Chiss chose wisely to keep his voice to little more than a whisper, and fortunately for the Darkhan, all ears around him were functioning fine and well despite the day's latest collections of tinnitus. All were poised in their knelt positions around their commander, though the cold night's rain certainly helped to soothe and rejuvenate in a brief, but sought-after respite, so when Dreamer muttered,'Take five and clear your minds, I'll take point for now - thinking I might scan ahead for a clear path.', a domino-effect of sighing relief would follow.

I won't begrudge them a sigh, they've come too far for chiding now.
Just do as you promised - and quietly.
​

Affording himself a groaning sigh of his own, the renegade Chiss opened his water canteen and afforded himself a few sizeable gulps along with it, enjoying the moment as his subordinates were, though this would be cut short when the sound of scraping metal could be heard coming from the north. Dreamer would make tactical signage, orders to hold positions, stay low and to watch all corners, as there was no way to know for sure who was sneaking around in the distance, and all the others knew the Darkhan to be the most-competent soldier among them. Obeying their orders without question as they turned to their outward arcs of fire, not a single word would be needed as their commander took to his task, moving away from their plotted path like the wind itself.

However, on arrival to the overall area where the sound had resonated before, not a single soul would be seen as the Darkhan's burning-red eyes scanned hither and yon, but the Force-Intuitive aspects of his family lineage knew everything his eyes could not, practically screaming of the threat from the deepest depths of his soul. It was then, right in the midst of that creeping shiver, that Dreamer made the conscious decision to communicate his ever-heightening risks to the others, clicking thrice on his comm-link receiver's speak button as a deftly applied signal to form up on their Darkhan's position. Made all the more aware as the renegade Chiss paced farther out into the open, detecting the hidden presence like he was walking into the bubble of a shockwave, seemingly frozen in time as it's form pulsated in what appeared to be heart-rhythm cadence - and the pace was quickening.

'Whoever you are.... I sense your presence, smell the brand of your cigarras, and hear the hum of your lightsabre - even at this distance!'

Met with nought but a wheezing, guffawing laughter, the sort that could only have belonged to the boorish, confrontational Goidelic ilk he recognized as Woadish in origin, it was right in that exact moment that the dangers truly began to reach Dreamer's comprehension. This wasn't any of the Imperial sorts of yesteryear, and certainly not of anything of new and varying allegiances, thus the Darkhan was left with no other answer than that of personal, familial concern, and with only one other surviving member of Erskine's brood at the time as reference, the last-remaining piece of the puzzle could only have led to the Tattered Regent.

'REVEAL YOURSELF, MICHAEL!!!! I HAVEN'T GOT ALL NIGHT TO PLAY HIDE-AND-SEEK!!!!'

'Fine! We dance in the open!'
​

A concussive boom followed, sending a metallic door flying outward, (even crashing through the outer-gate of the opposite building from within) marking the entrance for a man the Darkhan had not seen in almost twenty-two years, though the Michael he saw approaching was bleeding out when Dreamer last saw his face. Yet the so-called,"Little" brother, as much as the renegade Chiss had hoped it was enough to consider him to be ended rightly, was clearly stronger than he ever had been before, and by a grand and terrifying margin at that. But what was terrifying the Darkhan to the core of his being was the look in the approaching Imperial's eyes, as he had never seen a Barran's eyes look so cold before, not even in the gaze of the Bloodhound was such a murderous apathy witnessed before, and by the time he was close enough to see the Tattered Regent's pupils, the Darkhan understood it to be a rare moment of Barran bloodlust.

Such that no Barran ever wanted their contemporaries to see, a side to a champion's fury that none would guess was needed to become a hero in wartime, and in the moment Dreamer drew his Rhigaran Moon and the trenchknife Thomas gifted specifically for encounters like these, Michael's gaze would only draw colder in response. It was almost like the old Woad knew exactly who had forged the Beskar falchion in in his right hand, seemingly repulsed by the energy it exuded, but deep down the Darkhan knew why, as it indicated something else entirely. An imbuement of this sort, however, had been applied unknowingly during the forging process, as each smithing hammerfall had brought with them the Will that had been inherent in the Bloodhound a long time before his prophecied resurrection - and the old Woad could obviously see it in crystalline clarity.

'Cav... Or Kyber.'

If we make it out of this alive, it'll be a miracle.
But thats the thing with miracles, more follow those to which we've borne witness already.

And I'm willing to lay my life on the line for a miracle.
​

'Cav.... Let me learn how it feels to stand against Mountainsong.'

 

[Mini Mongrels]

Abigail and Asher Jr Kala'myr

Information

Objective: Find uncle Tommy
Location: Streets of Coruscant
Equipment: Attire | BB-C4T || 2x OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran | Kybo Ren | Open

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Abigail | Asher Jr | Together​

Although the twins had an existing and developed personality in the womb, they were still children and one does not become an adult through knowledge, but through experience. And in terms of experience, the twins had as much as their peers. So this still made for a rather strange dichotomy. Especially for those who did not know them. When they were babies, they were able to surprise even Tu'teggacha, even though they had already spent months in the former Taskmaster's labs.

And their friends had known them like that when they were all kids, so it couldn't have been that strange for them. Still, they both knew it would be strange for their uncle, or any other adult, especially when they first met. It's true that the twins didn't want to change because they were comfortable doing so; it was who they were and they didn't want to change for the sake of others. And they didn't want to change anything else, they had learned from the Valkyrja trainers and teachers that free will was important and that everyone had the right to decide for themselves.

But precisely because of their inexperience, they didn't know what Uncle Tommy had meant at first, and the twins were about to ask what he meant when Barran finally continued. It may not have been what the man meant, but the twins thought it was the escape from the planet that the man was referring to in his words. That is, all the shuttles were gone and there was no way to leave the planet. True, the twins didn't worry about it for a moment, they were only children after all. They both shook their heads at his words. They thought they had nothing to fear, as they had been able to manipulate Tu'teggacha since birth and at a few months old, and since then they had gotten even better.

"Don't worry about us, we're children, they'll think we just didn't get to a shelter at the right time. I don't think anyone will think we have anything to do with the Scar Hounds Tribe." they said again in unison.

And of course there was the other fact that the twins thought that no one knew they were here yet. So they would still have to contact their parents, or their two friends living here, Amal or Alaric, through the HPI network to get someone to come get them. Here the twins thought for a few moments before speaking. They knew their mother well enough to know that she cared for others despite her tough exterior. True, not many people, but Uncle Tommy was among them, not for nothing that he was the twins' Uncle, even though the twins had just met the man for the first time.

"We think you should go too, we'll be fine. But mom wouldn't be happy if something happened to you or you got captured." they told the man again.

They really thought they'd be fine, even though it was their first time in Realspace, even though they knew that the Galactic Alliance was supposed to be a society of "good guys" who protect the good guys and civilians. So, for that reason they hoped they wouldn't be harmed, especially since they were both unarmed; though that wasn't entirely true. With their mental strength, the twins could defend themselves, even against Force Users, but they were not evil, just children, and would not attack anyone, at most in self-defence. Though it was true of everyone that they would have done so if they couldn't escape. They would have done so because of the instinct to live.

"So go and leave the planet, go back to the Tribe." they said again.