Diplomacy Heart of Darkness | BotM Capital Crowning of Exegol

[Tu'teggacha]

Oyokal, Western Chiss Space
Ascendancy Aquaculture Colony​

In the skies above Oyokal, Telemachus of Daedalon brought death.

To a Knyght of the Maw, there was no higher calling than destroying the enemies of the Brotherhood. Telemachus had done that, and done it well, from the very beginning. Born to a pirate clan in the Outer Rim, he had been raised with a blaster in his hand, and the skill and ferocity instilled in him by his brutal upbringing had carried him far. He had been one of many to flock to the Dark Voice's banner when the Mawites had returned from deep space, distinguishing himself on the battlefield as early as Batuu and Jakku. He had always felt guided by a higher power, a sorcery that came from within.

His potential, both in battle and in the Force, had been recognized, and he had been selected as a Knyght Aspirant. The training that had followed had been more brutal than any battlefield; of the thirty aspirants selected for modification, he had been one of only three to survive the long transformation process. Thus had begun his first years of service, among the ranks of House Kasparov. He had fought well once again, on the ground and in space alike, his powerful Force potential carrying him through. He had even survived the Battle of Csilla, where so many other Knyghts had perished.

House Daedalon had chosen him after that.

Daedalon was the greatest of the Knyght houses, their members drawn exclusively from the battle-tested veterans of other houses. It was Telemachus's great honor to have proven himself worthy of induction into Daedalon, and he intended to keep on proving that he'd been the right choice to carry their banner. That was why he was here, leading the charge against the Chiss defense fleet in the skies above Oyokal. The engines of his Divine Eagle starfighter roared as the craft dropped out of the hangar bay, and he felt the power in its systems, for he was cybernetically linked to the craft.

His squadron formed up around him, pulling away from the Cagemaker, the Crucifix I-class Star Destroyer leading the raid. As one, the twelve starfighters streaked in toward a Chiss escort frigate, ranking it from stem to stern with their heavy beam cannons. Telemachus laughed and whooped, filled with the savage joy of destruction, feeling the violence he was unleashing both through his technological link and through the Force. He drank in the terror of Chiss crewmen as bulkheads burst, sucking them out into the cold depths of space. This was what he lived for. This brought the Avatars glory.

The skies above Oyokal were full of laserfire and streaking missiles as the Chiss defense fleet clashed with the Maw star destroyer and its escorts, but Telemachus knew that the defenders were too late anyway; Mawite forces in stealth shuttles had already landed on the watery planet, and were already ravaging the sea-farming villages below. The small raiding fleet was only there to extract them, holding off any external response. For his part, he almost hoped that the colony had managed to transmit a distress signal, for he was certain his hunger for blood and glory would not be sated by killing these few defenders.

"Kill them all!" he shouted over the open channel. "War! Death! Rebirth!"

 

[The Mongrel]

Oyokal, Western Chiss Space
Ascendancy Aquaculture Colony​

As he stepped off the assault shuttle and onto the docks of the fishing town, The Mongrel drew his new cloak tighter around his shoulders, blocking out the ocean spray. He smiled as he remembered the end of his hunt through Gehinnom's underlevels, how he had tracked the strange Netherworld beast to its lair in a disused maintenance tunnel. The twisted creature, an echo of a species long extinct that had somehow burst through the thin walls of reality as they crossed the Red Honeycomb Zone, had put up a ferocious fight... but in the end, its mighty teeth and claws had been no match for him.

Its scaly skin now hung around his neck, another trophy.

Stalking the beast had been entertaining, but The Mongrel's true calling was as a hunter of people... and so he had been glad to hear of this raid, this fresh chance to seize glory for the Three Avatars. Putting down the animal had been a necessary chore, but this would be good sport. The Brotherhood had come to take prisoners, but that day they were not seeking candidates to become strong slave-soldiers or hardy laborers. No, that day they sought sacrifices, captives to be slaughtered upon the altars in praise of the Dark Voice ascendant, and that meant that everyone would be taken alive in this raid.

Even the weak and pathetic were finally useful.

The Mongrel and his warriors stomped over the docks, toward a town just beginning to rouse as the battle against their protectors raged above. Sometimes places like this stirred something inside him, something long buried by now. These were simple people leading simple lives, fishermen and algae farmers who wanted nothing more than to live out their days in peace. He knew he had been like that once, though he could no longer remember. He had been a colonist fleeing the Core Worlds, seeking refuge in the hidden depths of the Unknown Regions. The wider galaxy hadn't mattered to him then.

The Brotherhood had stripped out his selfish faithlessness.

And so, when The Mongrel saw himself in these simple people, these Chiss whose little lives kept the outer worlds of the Ascendancy fed, it did not make him feel empathy; it made him feel loathing. He hated that he had ever been like these fools, cowardly and servile. He was determined to distance himself from them, to prove that he was worthy of rebirth into the New Galaxy that would grow from the ashes of the Maw's dark crusade. And so the little town would wake to screaming and smoke as the marauders stormed in, lashing out with stun blasters and electronets, capturing everyone they could.

All for the glory of the Dark Three.

 

[Eliz Krayt]

Tags: The Mongrel

They just didn't stop.

The Maw had already destroyed so much of the Chiss, but they still hungered to destroy more. For some, it was a sign of the end. How could they stand against these raiders if the CEDF hadn't been able to protect Csilla? Despair clung to the rank and file. And for those who's life wasn't a battlefield? It was the hand of Gods choosing who lived and who died. They could only pray they'd be ignored.

The Maw ignored no one. Spared no one. He'd seen it before, and now he was seeing it again. No, worse. They were capturing the people of this world alive. Eliz grimaced. Whatever their fate was, it'd surely be worse than death. Nearby a scream sounded off, like so many around him. He wanted to help everyone, but what could he do alone? The young Mandalorian clenched his jaw as his jetpack launched him onto the nearby roof. Marauders surrounded a family of three, laughing amongst themselves. The building Eliz was on ignited.

Burning their home in front of them?

His gaze hardened as he hopped down. The stealth unit he had deactivated as he leveled his gun for the first. Where the raider's head should of been there was nothing after the charric went off. The remaining reacted, but they weren't fast enough. Another hole formed in the chest of the first to try and level a gun for Eliz, who'd already moved onto a third. A dagger sprang from his wrist, the edge igniting with plasma. Cutting through the woman's throat.

Then he was shot. His vision dimmed as a blaster impacted his helmet. He stumbled, but before a second shot could go off his own pistol rang out. He took a heavy breath as he stared down at the last corpse. How long had he been fighting here? His emotionless visor turned to the trio before he cut off the netting around them.

"Run."

Where, he didn't know. This wasn't a fight he could spare them from. The most he could hope is that he distracted the Maw enough they'd forget this family. Or, by some miracle, someone who could do more than fight would come to help. A muffled yelp sounded off. Behind? He turned his gaze just in time to see Aubin rip out the throat of another marauder. One he missed? He smiled faintly.

Right, he wasn't completely alone.

Another scream caught his attention. He let out a low whistle. The Ursod quickly fell beside him, both of them fading from view. As useless of a fight as it felt, he wasn't going to give up.

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Oyokal.

Lori hadn't been in Chiss space before, although she had come across quite a few Chiss lately; Grand Shepherd Burtch and Keatoch to name a couple. Given her recent marriage and acquiring of MandalArms, she thought that it would be beneficial through both political and business means of getting contracts within Chiss space.

However what was to be an easy trip turned out to be dangerous. As soon as her ship, the Jaster's Delight got out of hyperspace, the orbital battle was in full swing. The sensor alarms were nearly tripped as the battle was clearly visible through the ship's transparasteel viewport. "What in the...?"

"Looks like we should have been here a month ago, Captain."

"Yeah, looks like. Take us to the darkside, they might not have noticed us yet. We'll hide in the atmosphere after that."

"Shouldn't we report it and wait for back up from Elysium or the Mandalorians, Captain?" Arla knew the answer before she had even stated her question. Lori wasn't just some Rebel living under the shadows of her parents and twin brother. She was much more than that and shouldn't be as reckless as she had been in the past. But the new political and executive positions did little to qualm her charge's stubborness.

"We can't wait that long. The people could be getting slaughtered down there! Send a message to Burtch and A Adara Awaud and let them know what's happening. And then let's get down there!"

"Understood, Captain." Arla was already hooked into the Jaster's Delight system and quickly sent out a distress signal for Oyokal to both Elysium and Mandalorians while Lori hurried to her quarters to change into her Rebel Ops armour.

A short while later the Jaster's Delight was moving through the atmosphere of the planet, listening for SOS signals that tried to get off planet. There were a few coming from seaside villages. A gutwrenching feeling fell into the pit of Lori's stomach as Arla brought the ship down to land nearby, memories of the Eternal Empire's slaughters of civilians were running through her mind.

Once on the ground, Arla shut her down and proceeded to follow Lori out of the ship, both armed with blasters on their hips and daggers in their boots. Lori also carried her bow The Hornet, quiver full of various types of arrows, as well as her Dahgee crystal lightsaber. She didn't know what to expect, given that most of her focus had been against the Eternal Empire. A lot of turmoil had been happening elsewhere in the Galaxy and Lori had been oblivious to it.

Until now.

And that was why she couldn't just up and leave.

Quietly the two started to sneak up towards the village. "We'll rescue as many as we can and then get out of here. I promise that's all we'll do," she whispered.

"It better be, Captain," Arla's response was whispered under her breath. Yet they both knew that it wasn't going to be quite that simple.

Jaedec Ren

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Oyokal, Western Chiss Space
Ascendancy Aquaculture Colony​

The battle raged on as the newcomers arrived.

No sensors detected the arrival of the sneaky Mandos. In the chaos of battle, with the Brotherhood's lone Crucifix I-class Star Destroyer and its trio of Samael-class frigate escorts pitted against the dwindling ships of the Chiss defensive patrol, no one was even trying to keep an eye out for cloaked enemy ships. The Maw had dispatched only this relatively-small raiding force, more a battlegroup than a true fleet, for they had known from the beginning that nothing more would be required to overcome Oyokal's limited defenses. Many other raiding parties of similar size roamed all around the galactic north, killing and pillaging.

This little backwater border planet wasn't special.

What did fill the space between the attackers and defenders was a mass of starfighters, twisting around one another as they dueled in the star-filled skies. Doomsayer fighter-bombers and elite Divine Eagle squadrons hunted down the enemy clawcraft, blowing them apart to clear the way for attack runs on the Chiss frigates and cruisers. They would take losses along the way, of course; it was rare indeed to have a battle so one-sided that all the casualties belonged to a single faction, and the Chiss were clever, brave, and disciplined. But they were outmatched, and any they killed deserved to be weeded out from the strong.

Telemachus of Daedalon knew this to be true, for he survived countless battles that had stripped away all his weak comrades. Now he soared among the most elite, using their cybernetic interface with their craft - and the power of the Living Force - to hunt their foes with a precision and relentlessness that few pilots in the galaxy could match. Divine Eagles were not quick starfighters, but they were devastatingly accurate with their beam cannons, enabling them to rip apart the faster foes that tried to outmaneuver them on their attack runs. It was all playing out exactly as Telemachus had known it would: another swift victory.

And now the Knyght found himself growing bored.

It was then that he felt it: a prickling in the corded muscles of his thick neck, a sensation of warning that had saved his life many times before. He scanned the battlefield, both visually and with his ship's sensors, and found nothing amiss. Telemachus frowned, intrigued and somewhat disturbed. The Living Force was a powerful tool in his hands, and would never lead him astray... so what did this warning mean? The Knyght shut his eyes and opened himself to the Force, trying to determine the meaning of his premonition. And then he felt it, for all living creatures were present in the Force, no matter how they tried to hide.

There were more sentients present than there ought to be.

But where were these curious, out-of-place beings, and what did they intend? That Telemachus did not know, and could not foretell. Still, it would pay to be cautious. "Something strange is afoot," he transmitted, his voice reaching all of the Maw ships in the area. "Be on your guard." It was a vague and almost unhelpful warning, but no one questioned him... for to do so would be to invite his wrath, and the wrath of a Knyght of Daedalon was terrible indeed. Instead the personnel of the Mawite ships redoubled their efforts to remain alert, and prepared to react to a possible sudden change on the battlefield...

A Adara Awaud​

 

[The Mongrel]

Oyokal, Western Chiss Space
Ascendancy Aquaculture Colony​

It wasn't long before the town was burning.

The Mongrel watched, a smile of approval spreading across the scarred features beneath his durasteel mask, as his raiders moved through the town with brutal efficiency. First they spread out, ringing the settlement to cut off all escape. They sank the boats, blew up the speeders, and stole the lone starship, a battered cargo shuttle. Then they began closing the ring, drawing in toward the center of the town. They stormed every house and business, stunning or electro-netting whoever they found inside, and then set the building on fire. Screaming civilians fled before them, only to find they had nowhere to go.

The Maw was snapping shut around them.

It would take time to fully clear a settlement of this size, an hour at the least... but that wasn't nearly enough for Chiss reinforcements from Kinoss to arrive. And it was entirely possible that the military officials on that CEDF depot planet would look at Oyokal, look at the patrol fleet already lost in orbit and the potential further cost of clashing with the Maw, and write off these fishers and farmers anyway. In these dark days for the Ascendancy, every Chiss house had to consider how far it could stretch its resources. If it gave up too much to protect others, it would leave itself vulnerable to Mawite raiding fleets.

Most of the defenders of this little village had been quickly subdued, overwhelmed by the swift and savage advance of the Brotherhood marauders... but the presence of a number of Mawite corpses informed The Mongrel that not all of those who'd chosen to fight back were so weak. The warleader paused, taking stock of the situation, using his long experience to attempt to determine what had happened. One of the raiders appeared to have been mauled by a wild animal. One had been slashed with a knife, another shot with a pistol, and a third was missing his head, the extremity vaporized in a single blast.

The Mongrel reckoned that, with the exception of the animal kill, this was all the work of a single, highly-skilled being... one that had attacked from ambush, giving the four raiders little time to react. But that left many unknowns as well. Was the infiltrator alone, or was this some kind of commando squad, spreading out through the town? The veteran marauder had to determine exactly how much of a threat he and his raiders were facing here, and he had to do it immediately, so that they could adjust their plans if needed. He switched his visor over to infrared mode, keeping his gaze down so the flames didn't blind him.

He would follow the trace heat of footprints to his target.

Eliz Krayt | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun​

 

[Eliz Krayt]

Tags: The Mongrel | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun | A Adara Awaud

Eliz found a spot to hide in, if only to take a breather and reassess what was going on. He gripped at a com device he stole from one of the marauders he'd killed, listening through the channels. It was as bad as he figured it would be. No Chiss were going to be able to escape at this point. His grip tightened as he listened to the reports on those captured. The sound of it cracking pulled his attention back from his mind. It wasn't Csilla again, but it was just as terrible.

There was nothing on resistance. No reinforcements. No allies. The Galaxy had given up on stopping the Maw from this decimation, huh? A grim smile formed on the young Mandalorian's face. If he was it, how was he supposed to get these people out?

No, wait. They were forming a circle. Punch through one side, maybe pull enough attention. Weaken the circle. It was the only chance these people had. He hefted his rifle, standing up once again. Another low whistle pulled the Ursod's attention to him. Though Aubin only focused for a moment before turning their gaze towards somewhere else. Someone was coming?

Both Eliz and the beast faded from view again as he neared the doorway of the small shack he'd been hiding in. Could be civilians, but with how active the Maw was it wasn't a good time to take chances. Slowly he raised his rifle to avoid breaking the cloak. Nothing, at first.

Then him.

Red eyes widened slightly before narrowing in pure hate. The butcher from before. A machine who only lived to kill. Here? The Half Chiss leveled his barrel. There was no where for Eliz to run away this time. So this time he'd have to make sure this bucket of bolts and flesh stayed down. The Charric rang out as he squeezed the trigger.

This time die and stay dead.

 

[Darth Solipsis]

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
Sith Citadel Throne Room, Sith Citadel, Exegol

//Power//

​

The apparition that was Darth Vinaze conjured forth from the inky black shadow cast beside the Dark Lord's throne, the darkness an ichor of contact between the physical and nonphysical planes as the world weary Sith Lord appeared before those present in his full spectral glory. The Dark Side Spirit of Lord Vinaze stepped forth with a commanding presence, his powers radiating over the stadium and those who had gathered on the ancient redoubt of Exegol with a waking dark call through the tugging strings of the empyrean.

His voice boomed, the minds of all those present laid bare to the majesty of his words. He spoke of a throne restored, an order destroyed, the Sith reborn...

...and a prophecy fullfilled.

"THE SITH'ARI!"

"Sith'ari sichi tsusudz! Sith'ari sichi tsusudz!"

"Sith'ari sichi tsusudz! Sith'ari sichi tsusudz!"

"Sith'ari sichi tsusudz! Sith'ari sichi tsusudz!"

​

In the words of the great Darth Plagueis, prophecies were generally wishful thinking. He had been a skeptic for a long time, a believer that if it had been true then the prime candidate had already passed by in the form of Darth Bane. The emergence of so many false idols, each with their own version of the same bloated problem only spurred further doubt into his head.

That was until he met Darth Vinaze and Kascalion Giedfield , leaders within the Warlords of the Sith and two of the glorious architects behind the Sith Schism that cut the fat from the lean. They had thrown the first stone, cast off from the complacent body of the Sith Empire and waged war against what it had become so far skewered and twisted.

It was the words of Vinaze that convinced the Dark Voice that his actions were foretold, that his path and actions had fulfilled the prophecy long awaited by the faithful across the galaxy. The reincarnation of Adas, the successor to Bane, the return of the Sith'ari. A heavy crown, one he had never sought to wear by any means.

The Sith'ari looked on over the masses with dark grimace and cold eyes, his primary motivations for his actions had always been the survival and rebirth of the Sith Order and final fulfillment of the Grand Plan. To him, his actions on Mustafar when he claimed the mantle and intiated the purge, forming the New Sith Order, ordering the invasion of Felucia and Thule with crushing blows sent to the Eternal and Empire; and finally reclaiming Exegol to restore the Sith Throne. These actions that brought destruction to the Sith Order and brought about a birth to the New Sith within a new order unburdened by the bloated ways of old, they were the very actions that had revealed his true mantle.

The Sith had been destroyed and reborn from the trials of war, death, and rebirth. The galaxy would soon follow in their footsteps, whether by his hand or his successor's. He had finally accepted his place and title, his new truth.

Sith'ari.

 

[Alars Keto]

Oyokal, Western Chiss Space
Ascendancy Aquaculture Colony​

Not so long ago he loved the sight of flames, it was a warmth he had never felt in his life. The soothing sight of watching your enemies and their people burn alive was merely icing on the cake, a glaze over the hole that he filled with death and all sorts of vices. He hadn't been born this way, well psychologically yes but.. kark it.. yeah he was insane. He loved this life.

The deep train of thought was interrupted by the crawling beneath his skin, not even a moment to reflect before he felt the invasive hive-mind tear at his thoughts. The Eldervine uttering alongside it's Drengir, the other vinesworn could be felt there in the backdrop.. he couldn't let this be what he was to become.. he was meant for so much more. He had to keep fighting it, he had to stop it from fully taking over. Kryll's gaze fell over the scorching flames once more, he recoiled in it's ominous glory as his hand brushed against the small vine growth emerging from his cheek. Things had changed.

The Mongrel and his raiders made short work of those who stood in their path of destruction, supplemented by the Bloodsworn raiders under Kryll's command, the sub-chief warleader under the mighty Zachariel Steelblood had more ample forces to quell any force the Chiss fathomed of mustering in rebellion against the overwhelming onslaught of the Brotherhood of the Maw. The Maw was coming, the galaxy would ripe for the picking and the Chiss's time was up, their lands now free real estate. The town was lit ablaze and it's occupants cornered in as their only source of leave was stripped from them and all others destroyed.

They were cornered like rats.

Kryll watched the waves of marauding pirates wash over the town with disinterest, his head throbbing and aching as he tried to force his will upon the empyrean to subdue the dark hivemind link within. He dwelled on the pain, the anguish, and fury to keep himself independent as much as he could against the powerful grip of the Eldervine . Even then the Drengir whispered of it's futility, of the freedom it had bestowed upon Kryll... of the Harvest soon to come.

He had become an agent of the Drengir, a harbinger of a fate worse than death. He could not let this be his fate, there had to be a way out.

Kryll stumbled upon a lone corpse immediately breaking from his self-reflection once again, no rest for the wicked. He crouched down to study the dead body before laying eyes on The Mongrel . He approached in the wake of the warleader, curious as to what he sought with a steady hand in case they found opposition.

The Mongrel | Eldervine | Eliz Krayt | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun

 

[The Messenger]

The strain became too great against it’s mighty primal psyche, the sheer force of the power arrayed against it too strong. As the might of it have out, it’s strength leaving it as steel twisted and flared out in it’s intense grasp. Gehinnom was safe, the beast subdued.

Pacified. A link was formed between that of Zachariel Steelblood and Tu'teggacha with that of the massive creature. A primal connection that the creature would now obey, a slave to their wills.

The greatest danger to the Holy City was now the greatest boon, a force capable of tending starships apart and devouring armies at a whim. A cosmic horror. A monstrosity unseen by the civilized galaxy. A Summa-Verminoth.

The red clouds parted like a curtain, Gehinnom still had much farther to go but for now.. it was safe. Soon they would reach Exegol, and soon it would be home.

Zachariel Steelblood | Tu'teggacha​

 

[Jaedec Ren]

The massive barbaric horde of the Maw had encroached deeper into Chiss space. The Knights of Ren themselves not far behind, Kyrel seemed troubled. Already leaving alone to the shadow world of Exegol without their Master present to grip the leash of the Knights. They themselves took part in the wanton death and plunder that took place on such a backwater world.

Who stood among the fiery ruins of a lively village. Was the sight of a hulking being that seemed to be as tall to cast a wide shadow overall. Adorned in black armor some bits of the metal showing a frightening style. The metal worn, battle damaged. A mask that seemed to be pieces of Imperial design with scratches and scars. In his hands a Mandalorian executioners axe. Made of traces of beskar able to withstand a lightsaber blow. The blade of the axe itself was stained crimson. Droplets of blood hit the ground as the deadly behemoth of a man had just recovered the axe from the severed neck of a Chiss farmer. The farmer who not only moments earlier had tried to defend his wife and children only to be cut and beheaded.

When he walked it appeared as if every heavy step was a stomp. His strikes heavy and just as powerful. He did not speak, for he was a new addition to the Knights. Molded by the nomadic fleet of the Ren, Jaedec eagerly embraced his first mission as a barbaric Knight of Ren. With each strike he cut down the lives of women, children, and men alike. More Knights had joined in the raid with the other barbarian forces of the Maw. Be it killing or gathering riches that would further aid the journey be it slaves or credits.

The Shadow alerting him to what seemed to be a whisper in the Force. He raised his axe and moved through the fire with the Knights. Focusing on the signature, until moving with a few other raiders. He spotted what looked to be a young woman, and a few companions. Moving slowly towards the group the Knights themselves would move as the shadow willed and struck with ferocity. Even with his towering might he hoped to mask his signature, striking heavy and hard upon these new foes.

When he felt he had the element of surprise, moving through the ruins of fire and smoke all around he made an attempt to strike at the young woman with a powerful blow from the axe. The axe blade positioned to strike from above to cleave her in two. Making the first move in a bold attack.


Loreena Arenais-Valhoun @The Mongral Eliz Krayt A Adara Awaud
Oran Ren

 

[Laertia Io]

Wearing: Chitin of Darth Xiphos

Armed With: Momentary Discomfort

Constant Gardener

Sword of 007 Blessings

Dashade Sonic Disruptor

With: Arianna Belasko

Equipment: Ritual Gown , Subverter's Blade (Double Bladed Red Lightsaber)

Nuetralizer Model 1 (28 ground Units)

Equipment:

T-007 Ion Disruptors

DC-19 Carbine

Electrostaff

Sonic Grenades

Came to Oyokai with:

Assassin Class Corvette (2)

Arquitens Class Light Cruiser (2)

Enhanced B Wing (8)

Missile Boat (4)

TIE Hunter (42)

Aggressor Fighter (Xiphos and Arianna)


Objective: Evacuate Civilians


"My heart is warmed by your loyalty, Maple." Darth Xiphos said to her old friend Maple Harte.

They were at an outpost of Xiphos's company, Scion Mobile Shipyards, a deep space station to be exact. Xiphos, slowly but surely, was building a powerbase. A system of financing her operations. Gone were the days where she lived hand to mouth.

"If there's anything left of Laertia in you, Xiphos, I wouldn't let that heart get too warm. I told you all of this as a courtesy. But that doesn't mean I won't go through with it if pushed."

"Nine Lives does not get to dictate morality to me..." Xiphos scoffed, not looking at Maple as she stared out of a viewport.

"Problem is, she's one of your chief financiers..." Maple trailed, shifting in her seat, wearing torn, faded biker leathers. "I managed to convince her to wait a little longer pointing out the intensity of current conflicts...got you three more months. But that's all I managed. She's furious over your team up with The Amalgam. If she's not dead three months from now, neither of us will ever be welcome in House Li-Ves ever again."

Xiphos was silent for a few moments.

"And you're willing to fight me when the deadline arrives?"

"You know The Amalgam has to die." Maple said. "You know that."

"Do I? She helped me at Csilla out of nothing more than Love. She did it simply because we asked."

"She is an abomination. A monstrosity. That we are possibly the only two creatures in all of existence she might feel something for only highlights the reasons she must be stopped. She swore to turn both of us. And we swore to destroy her long ago. The Bryn'adul delayed that oath. Your mad war with three different factions delayed it more. But it was inevitable it would come to this point. You sacrificed damn near everything teaming up with her, and you lost anyway. Nothing can justify your continued association with her or the Cult. It's time to kill them off. Hell, being associated with the cult probably made your situation worse, overall."

"The Amalgam is one of our strongest remaining allies."

"The Amalgam cost you allies. Nobody trusted you after your association with her was revealed. Continuing to partner with her has been detrimental to you, ultimately. Now you're seemingly fighting the Order out of spite!" Maple contended. "You're desperate to punish them. I can see it in your eye whenever you talk about them. You genuinely believe they deserve calamity at this point. But last I looked, no one appointed you Judge and Jury. Sure as hell made for a good executioner, though."

"Someone has to. Someone has to make them pay for sabotaging the Elder Compact. The only way to do that is to make sure things become absolutely bloody for them after this war is truly over. Let them understand what it's like to be a Bryn'adul Victim when there is no end to their stress. No end to their pain. Let them look over their shoulder for an armored Demon, the same way any who lives on a world bordering Lobster Space must."

"That's insane..."

"It's Justice."

"To you."

"Can you think of a reason the Jedi shouldn't be fought and opposed?"

"Neither one of us are fit to pass judgement. I have degenerative schizophrenia. You're just crazy from war. You have PTSD, and you've set yourself up as a moral authority when you aren't." Maple asserted.

"Someone has to judge them." Xiphos countered quietly.

"Why must it be you?"

"Because I lost things standing for what I believe in. But the people I tried to help lost more. And not one Jedi I met or killed seemed to care. The Sith were all that mattered to them. They always get away with their nonsense, not because they are inherently right, but because after everything is said or done, most are simply too tired to take them to task. But they don't get off that simple this time. The Bryn'adul come first, but I'm going to take every chance I have to punish the Jedi for getting in the way of the Lobster's defeat. They have to be punished for their crime.

"And who punishes you, I wonder?"

"You don't understand, Harte..." Xiphos said, finally turning to face Maple.

"My current state of existence is my punishment."

"How convenient..." Maple replied coldly.

The Bounty Hunter then forced her expression to soften. She sighed.

"You fought at her side as well." Xiphos spoke.

"I fought at your side. Not hers. Look, I gave you your warning, because I care about the person inside this cold shell you call Xiphos. What's left of her, anyway. In two months time I'm gonna try and kill the Amalgam regardless of how we both feel about her. I know you love her, despite what she is, despite all the terrible, awful things she's done. I love her too. That's why killing her won't be betrayal, but mercy. For all of us."

"It's what The Ashlan Crusade would do..." Xiphos snorted. "Going by their logic disgusts me. By their reasoning, every Dark Adept slain is a mercy. Shall we apply that reasoning to your beloved Sawa Ike also?"

Maple moved so fast it caught Xiphos by surprise as Maple slammed her to the table, pulling out a blaster Pistol and sticking it under Xiphos's chin. Xiphos remained expressionless, making no move to defend herself.

"Didn't think so." Xiphos remarked.

"That had better not have been a threat on Sawa's life, Xiphos." Maple said quietly.

"It was nothing of the sort. Merely pointing out that those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw large chunks of Kyber."

"Are you going to try and stop me, Xiphos?"

Xiphos sighed.

"No. You were honest and up front with me. You respected me enough to tell me what you intend and gave me fair warning. Whatever our disagreements on the issue, you've been a straight shooter with me. I will make no move to stop you. But I cannot aid you, either. You will be on your own when you face her."

"Can't bear to do the deed yourself?"

Xiphos glowered.

"Correct." She admitted.

Maple removed the pistol from under Xiphos's chin, backing away.

"I believe you." Maple said, holstering her blaster.

Xiphos rose from the table.

"Maple, you are like a Sister to me, and I love you...but don't ever do that again." Xiphos warned her.

There are no words for how disturbed Maple Harte was at hearing Xiphos say that, and knowing she was telling the truth.

Xiphos, then got a beep at a nearby terminal. She went over to it, frowned, reading the contents.

"The Chiss Colony world of Oyokai is under attack by Maw Forces." Xiphos said after a moment. "I must go. The civilians are going to need evacuation."

"Also makes for good PR..." Maple noted.

"That, I do take offense to." Xiphos said crossly. "Malign my motives against my enemies all you like...but do not malign my desire to save those people as a publicity stunt. It isn't."

Xiphos turned to leave the office.

"By the way...I've been meaning to ask you something..." Maple called out, causing Xiphos to pause.

"Why Syd?" Maple asked. "You're not stupid... surely you see the similarities between them...so why her?"

Xiphos's response shut Maple up.

"I could just as easily ask that question about Siva Joyeuse, and why you picked someone so similar to Ursula..." Xiphos replied with the bluntness of an incoming glacier. "Glass houses, Maple..."

Xiphos resumed her journey to the armory.

"Glass-fething-houses..." The Light Side Sith Marauder trailed as she walked.

As Xiphos walked off, Maple collapsed, suffering a mild break down at the idea she was just as fethed up as Xiphos.

Ten minutes later...

Vivian Duual observed the ships being assembled from her private suite aboard the station. Or rather, Arianna's private suite.

Themis was starting to have misgivings about Xiphos. Vivian wasn't. Xiphos's road to wisdom and power was not without risk, but it was all she had. After months of playing The Savage, Xiphos was finally starting to refine her thinking.

Vivian felt awful though, ultimately, for not being able to truly be there for Julia after that freak accident when she was a child. With no one to stabilize her emotionally, Julia had grown up half feral. There was so much damage to Julia emotionally that Vivian knew it would never fully heal. And with her own need to remain as a deep cover plant within the CIS, she couldn't devote the time she wanted to helping her.

But today, at least, they could spend a little time together.

Vivian had received the intercepted transmission from a Nuetralizer in a TIE Scout, and had forwarded it to Xiphos. Xiphos, within minutes, had shown up in the brand new armor she and Themis had crafted.

Vivian went over to her. "Do you find your armor to be all that you were promised?" The Force Spawn asked, stroking her face, now covered by a dark blue organic helm with a T-shaped visor.

"Of course. Are you ready to depart?" Xiphos asked respectfully.

"Yes. Just need to do one more thing and I'll be able to help you properly. But we are about to do something extremely dangerous. We won't have much back up.

"That's never stopped me before." Xiphos said.

"One day, Xiphos, if you aren't careful, you may find those impossible odds catch up with you."

"At least you'll be able to say 'I told you so'," Xiphos joked.

"On that day, Julia..." Vivian replied somberly. "Even I won't want to..." (A better class of criminal: 2000 XP)

Xiphos nodded, and turned for the exit, having no desire to watch her feed.

Vivian then went to a private part of her suite, a small chamber that had a New Sith Order prisoner locked to a slab, a Sith Xiphos had stripped of the Force, and left him as a perpetual snack for Vivian until she tired of feasting on his thought energy.

He never remembered how he ended up here, or why he was stripped of the Force. Up to three weeks of his life at a time were consumed. It wasn't lethal. It didn't even hurt. But the victim suffered all the same from the perpetual mind fog and amnesia. Comparing the treatment captured Jedi got to captured Sith, the Jedi were getting off light. Very light.

He was gagged, sweating, afraid. Vivian felt nothing for him. He was guilty of obtaining sacrifices for the Maw.

She raised her hand and placed it on his head and began leeching his psychic energy and taking it into her body. He was unconscious immediately as her flesh shuddered on the skeleton.

What she did was essentially an overdose. Arianna could essentially only manifest if she "ate too much."

Vivian's mind and form vanished under Arianna's, flesh resetting as a fake Dark Side Aura of intense corruption manifested.

Perceiving her victim as having been killed by a Dark Side Attack, Arianna felt the blood thirst already starting to build, restrained by the creature within. She immediately went to join Xiphos in the departure bay, eager to start cutting people apart.

Present...

Two Arquitens stripped of all non-essential equipment would house most of the evacuees. Crewed mostly by a combo of Model 2's and Fett Clones that were sworn to Darth Themis. The other ships, two Assassin Class Corvettes and Lambda Shuttles launched from the cruisers, would be heading to the surface of Oyokai under escort of 007 TIE Hunters each. The rest of the fighters would be defending the cruisers. Bomber type vessels would only be used to cover the retreat, or if there was no other choice. All fighters were piloted by Model 1's

It wasn't a fleet. It was a stop gap. A stall to buy time. Barely counted as a task force. All Xiphos could spare.

Her Mobile Shipyards had done admirably putting these old but still useful and powerful designs. It was up to her to use them effectively.

They dropped out of Hyperspace on the Dark Side of the Planet, The blond Arianna at her side. If only the rest of her family could be here, fighting alongside her.

The Chiss were giving them hell, but they were being whittled down. The only real favor she could do them was evacuate as many of their people as possible.

Where, exactly, Xiphos wasn't sure. The enemy was everywhere, these days.

Maw Starfighters piloted by Knyght's began to harass and challenge them. Xiphos brooked no opposition, and her son's, despite piloting technically outdated Starfighters, managed to aggressively shoot down a few that targeted them, the Organic-type rage of the Model 1's granting them a focus, a creativity at inflicting death in battle that most war droids simply could not match. But Xiphos was the one that spearheaded the attack on those that would keep them from reaching the surface. Experience at piloting her Micro-Warship The Shadow Bride had given her insight on starfighter-gunship hybrids.

"I like this craft..." Xiphos remarked as she blasted apart another Maw Fighter, directing the movements of her sons via her Technopathy.

"I thought you would..." Arianna gushed, smiling.

"I'll draw aggro on myself. You defend the evac ships with your life..." Xiphos told the creature that only thought she was the real Arianna Belasko: Laertia had assassinated the actual Arianna years earlier. A few Lambda Shuttles were shot down in turn, and Xiphos ordered them to speed up in compensation, trying to get to the planet as fast as possible without loosing any more evac shuttles.

"Or the Maw's lives..." Arianna grinned as they breached the Atmosphere at last, the Cruisers sticking on the Dark Side as close to the atmosphere as they could, remaining starfighters at point defense for the moment.

Their focus was the Aqua-Culture Colony currently under severe assault. They couldn't have gotten here any faster.

Xiphos mentally asked a Model 1 that had accompanied them to take the controls, opening the hatch. Three Lambda Shuttles flying in lockstep also opened their hatches and Model 1's Equipped with Jet Packs, 28 being all they could land on the ground due to the desperate circumstances, half of which would be defending Arianna and the Civilians, the other half fighting alongside Xiphos, dropped out, flying to the surface ahead of them. That was the cue.

Xiphos and The Countess, clad in an enchanted white ritual Gown headed to the hatch as it opened, Xiphos pulling Arianna close.

"Hold on..." Xiphos warned, concentrating hard as the ground sped beneath, the ship going lower and slowing down.

Xiphos and Arianna were teleported to the surface, on the outskirts of the Colony. They landed right in the thick of it, Xiphos spotting pirates and savages all around them, who spotted them right the hell back.

Xiphos's old Jedi Lightsaber, a green bladed cross guard, snapped to life.

"WAR! DEATH! REBIRTH!" one Maw savage shouted.

"You're about to get two out of three on that, Motherfethers..." Xiphos growled. Arianna had an absolutely insane blood thirsty grin on her face as the red blades of her Saber Staff flared to life.

Xiphos was teleporting around to avoid rifle fire, landing on top of people or appearing behind them to quickly tear them apart with her green blade, Arianna pulling the moisture from the air to form tentacles of water, which she would use to brutally crush warriors as necessary, flinging watery spears and knives at their heads, but really, she was all about the tentacles as she brutally smashed a few pirates to death, but the Maw vastly out numbered them and Xiphos and Arianna were being forced on the defensive, Xiphos hit with a laser Cannon round that blasted her backward, knocking her backward, forcing Arianna to retaliate against the shooter, brutally crushing him with a water tentacle... But the Maw Warriors were starting to advance on both of them...

Meanwhile a few Jet Pack Equipped Model 1's had already landed in another part of the town, where there were few Personnel at the moment. Enemy or otherwise.

"Commencing operations..." The Leader of the 007 unit team said quietly, moving forward into the thick of combat. The objective was to rescue Civilians no matter what brutality had to be resorted to...

The Mongrel

Loreena Arenais-Valhoun

Eliz Krayt

A Adara Awaud

Oran Ren

Jaedec Ren

Alars Keto

Tu'teggacha

 

[TK-818]

Oyokal, Western Chiss Space
Ascendancy Aquaculture Colony​

The Rens’ Vornskr-class Infiltration Transport screamed to life above the forsaken skies of Oyokal. As the Knights of Ren deployed across the broken colony, the veteran dark warrior TK-818 pulled back on the throttle and gave the screaming remnants an imposing view of the slick black shuttle as the forces of The Mongrel tore those who would fight asunder and enslave the rest.

It was quiet for him, the airways were left empty from the initial storm that broke the camel’s back. Surely there would be a reprisal, an attempt to secure their peoples and colony by the CEDF or some local house. It didn’t matter to him, it didn’t matter to the MAW, they all were going to meet their end.

Sinh looked at his read out, following the positions of Oran Ren, Rekiro, and Jaedec Ren as they moved through the town on a collision course with glory. His attentions faded when his sensors ignited in alerts and sirens, a destroyer and escort contingent had entered the system. The Knight of Ren pulled back on the throttle and skewered the sky trail, lighting ablaze a path into the upper atmosphere. Stealth systems engaging, the silent cloaked vessel would vanish from sensors and soar directly toward the enemy.

Sinh was coming.

 

[Maestus]

Maestus stood in conversation with Romund Sro and Lord Letifer . Not far from the throne of the Sith'Ari Darth Solipsis . As he himself accepted the proclamation of Darth Vinaze she made sure to keep her face impassive. For if she let it betray her thoughts, she would be killed where she stood. And that just did not mesh with her plans.

Instead, she turned and face the throne fully, and bowed her head slowly, somberly.

In her mind, Solipsis being proclaimed Sith'Ari was not the worst that could happen. No, truth be told, this was a fascinating development. It was unexpected, but not fully surprising. Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. The hubris of Darth Solipsis knew no bounds. If Vinaze hadn't done it, surely Solipsis would have self proclaimed himself Sith'Ari sooner or later.

It was not totally without merit. Much as Maestus did not feel any affection or loyalty towards the creepy old man, she respected him and his power. And his vision, to an extent. After all, he ended the Sith Civil War. Backed down from no one, not even the Galactic Alliance and their Jedi lapdogs. Solipsis did not do what was right. he did what was necessary. ANd that earned Maestus respect.

Letting her thoughts trail off, she turned her attention back to Romund Sro finally.

When we are finished here, you and I shall discus your proposal. I am curious. She waved a hand towards Solipsis and the throne. Do you support the Dark Lord's ascension to Sith'Ari? A very dangerous question, given the current circumstances. Romund would be wise to choose his words carefully.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Oyokal, Western Chiss Space
Ascendancy Aquaculture Colony​

Knowing that the enemy is out there, planning some trickery, is certainly an advantage... but it is only the most basic level of information, the kind that offers only one vague tactical option: be ready for anything. And any commander can confirm that being ready for anything is quite impossible. As such, despite the Knyght's warning, the Mawite raiding fleet did not anticipate the sudden arrival of an enemy warship in their midst. How could they have? Who would expect that such a large ship could slip in amongst them under the cover of a cloaking device, positioning itself for a devastating initial salvo?

Who could have foreseen anyone would even be able to intervene in the raid?

That initial salvo was certainly devastating. The Mandalorian cruiser was exceptionally well-armed for its size, able to punch above its weight class with its powerful forward cannons. Shots ripped into the Burnt Offering, the Mawite star destroyer, bursting through shields and breaching several rear bulkheads. The assault came from behind, and the main engines took a serious beating, nearly crippling the ship's sublight capabilities in a single strike. Turrets lashed out at the star destroyer's escorts, pouring fire into them as well. It was a powerful opener, certainly, proving the warship's might.

But now that the slow-moving craft was revealed, now that its presence was known and it could be targeted by Mawite weapons, it might find that it had bitten off more than it could chew. On its own, it had attacked not only a vessel twice its size, but also that ship's three escorts. The Duchess was powerful, but if it had the power to cripple or destroy four large ships in a single volley, it would have been more superweapon than cruiser. And now it was surrounded, for the three Samael-class frigate escorts were much faster than the slow-moving Mandalorian ship, rapidly moving into flanking positions.

The Burnt Offering would have to turn before it could pour much fire into the Duchess, since it had few rear-facing weapons and its engines had been badly damaged, but the Samaels had no such problem. The three frigates immediately opened fire with their huge ion cannon batteries, sending out wave after wave of disabling fire at the enemy warship. The power it had demonstrated made the Mawites covet it, and the ships they had brought were perfect for disabling and boarding such a ship. Despite its formidable defenses, surely the Duchess could not hold out for long in a massive ion crossfire.

Marines prepared their boarding pods, waiting for the shields to fail.

As the Burnt Offering and its starfighters mopped up the last of the small Chiss patrol, forcing the survivors to flee back to Kinoss, the other Mawite forces prepared to turn their attention to the Duchess as well. But the Avatars, it seemed, were always testing the Mawites. Even so close to their own territory, they always seemed to be outnumbered, with suddenly enemy fleets appearing in great numbers to do battle with them. So it was with Laertia Io's fleet, distracting the attention of the Star Destroyer and its starfighters as they arrived in the fray. A battle that had seemed to be ending...

Well, now it appeared that it had only just begun.

The Burnt Offering was all but immobile after the Duchess's ambush attack, but its weapons systems were still primed, and it unleashed them. Heavy turbolaser batteries filled the skies above Oyokal with waves of pulsing green light, opening heavy fire on the incoming corvettes and light cruisers. Tractor beams lashed out, trying to hold the smaller ships immobile so that the orbital autocannons could smash them apart. Telemachus of Daedalon and his squadron formed up, shaking off their losses and preparing to hunt a more dangerous foe. Their beam cannons joined the chorus of destruction.

They would face this test without fear, working to prove themselves worthy of entry into the New Galaxy that the Avatars were building... but if the battle dragged on for too long, then Chiss reinforcements from Kinoss might well have time to arrive, and the small raiding party would stand little chance. So Telemachus sent out a signal, one that raced back to the new Brotherhood capital at Exegol and all the fleets between here and there. The signal was not a distress call, for he felt only the exultation of violence, not fear. Instead it was a simple message: "Enemies are here. Come claim your glory."

A Adara Awaud | Laertia Io​

 

[The Mongrel]

Oyokal, Western Chiss Space
Ascendancy Aquaculture Colony​

Perhaps the Brotherhood was becoming too predictable. Now that they had made their return to the galaxy, now that they had gained the attention of the governments of known space by destroying Csilla, it seemed that would-be heroes cropped up in force at every turn. There were times when The Mongrel missed the early days, back when the Maw had been little more than a nomadic fleet pillaging the planets they passed by. The era of Batuu and Jakku, when a few local defenders had been the only opposition who had even known about the Brotherhood in order to fight back, was far behind them.

Things had been simpler then, if less glorious and exciting.

As the veteran marauder stalked forward, tracking his quarry through the burning town, he watched as a significant enemy force descended from the skies on jetpacks. He let out a heavy sigh, the sound coming out like a tinny growl once filtered through his durasteel mask. So it wasn't a lone operative, or even a commando unit, that he was tracking; it had likely been the vanguard of this larger force. They weren't even Chiss, so that ruled out reinforcements from Kinoss. Whoever they were, they had certainly set to the task of dispatching Mawite raiders with brutal efficiency and enthusiasm.

Pausing in his pursuit, The Mongrel considered the situation. Reports were filtering down from orbit that the raiding fleet was also under heavy attack, and that was ill news indeed. If they could not safely transport the captives to orbit, and then to the sacrificial chambers on Exegol, there was little point in trying to take these fishermen alive. "Our ships are taking heavy fire," the warleader said into his comm system, broadcasting to all the nearby marauders. "The enemy wishes to cut off our escape. So be it. The Avatars see all. We will perform the sacrifice to the Dark Voice's glory here."

It was just as well they weren't here to take permanent slaves.

With enemy forces arriving to break the ring of Mawite slavers, opening gaps through which civilians could escape, the raiders' tactics changed. They wouldn't be able to get everyone, and they wouldn't be able to haul any captives back to Exegol, so they simply began killing. Those who had already been stunned or electro-netted were shot or knifed where they lay. Nonlethal weapons were tossed aside in favor of blasters, slugthrowers, and vibroblades. Marauders attacked every non-Mawite they encountered with lethal force. They would turn this town into a sacrificial pyre worthy of the Dark Voice.

Would-be rescuers would have to hurry to save the survivors.

As he returned to his hunt, The Mongrel saw Kryll walking up beside him. He knew the other marauder well; they had been comrades from the very beginning, wildly different men but brothers in arms all the same. But there was something... different about the man now, a strange otherness that The Mongrel could not define. What had happened to his fellow Bloodsworn across the course of their conquests, to change him so? It was not the right time to ask, in the middle of a battle, but the veteran marauder found himself tempted anyway. As he began to speak, though, he felt something...

... and threw himself aside, the unnatural speed of his cybernetic limbs saving his life. Instead of taking his head off, as it had done to one of his marauders, the powerful charric bolt ripped into one of his durasteel arms, leaving a molten gash just below his mechanical shoulder. The Mongrel hissed as he hit the ground, quickly rolling back to his feet. The damage was notable, limiting his range of motion, but not fully crippling. It was good that he no longer felt pain in that limb. His burning eyes, equipped with many sensors, snapped up to trace the path of the charric bolt... and memory struck him.

Recognition filtered through The Mongrel's mind as he put the pieces together - stealth technology, a charric, Mandalorian armor. It was that warrior he'd encountered on Jamiron, the one who had tried to hold back his raiders almost single-handedly. The warleader smiled beneath his mask, eager for a fresh chance to kill this irritating foe. "Look, Kryll," he hissed, stalking forward with a naked blade in hand, "a cowardly Mandalorian, fighting from ambush. Their recruiting standards must have fallen since Mandalore was ravaged for the... how many times has it been, now?"

Of course, Kryll might not see anything given the cloak, perhaps leading him to question The Mongrel's sanity. Even the veteran warleader could only get so much of a fix on his opponent, whose sophisticated technology worked hard to defeat enemy sensors. It was only residual heat on the doorframe of the shack that confirmed his suspicions about where he might find his prey. With a bloodthirsty cry, he charged, sword in one hand and blaster in the other. He squeezed off several wild shots as he ran, trying to keep his foe from drawing a bead on him with the charric again. He despised that weapon.

But the real threat was his razor-sharp warblade.

Eliz Krayt | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun | Alars Keto | Laertia Io | TK-818​

 

[Eliz Krayt]

Tags: A Adara Awaud | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun | Alars Keto | Laertia Io | TK-818 | The Mongrel

Wait.

Eliz hadn't seen it earlier, not inside the shack he was hiding in. But above. Explosions? He didn't know of any anti air nearby. Did that mean..? A grin actually formed under the helmet of the Mandalorian. He wasn't fighting alone. The grin would have remained if it wasn't for the immediate blaster fire on the hut he was in.

Chit. He looked away.

He hissed under his breath as he crouched behind the flimsy wall. It'd do little at stopping the incoming fire, but maybe it'd buy him enough time to get ready. His rifle was laid by his side as he let out a low, complex whistle. The Ursod quickly rushed off. Against a metal man like The Mongrel, Aubin was only going to get in the way. At least they'd be able to find someone else to help, or better yet, find those here to help. Eliz glanced to his bracer before reaching down to press a button.

A pulse erupted around him, invisible and harmless. It didn't go far, but it went enough to light up his HUD with the Mongrel's location. A blast slammed into his back, throwing him forward. The Beskar was as always sturdy enough to take the shot, but the fractal pattern was ruined. Well. Now or never. Eliz pulled free the Beskad in his boot as he rounded the doorway. Similarly he had a blaster in his other hand, the heavy charric. He let loose his own wild volley as he charged forward.

This time he wasn't going to run away.

 

[Dakrul]

​

Objective:

Oyokal, Western Chiss Space
Ascendancy Aquaculture Colony

To amass souls

Today Dakrul will serve. How exciting… Yes Dakrul will do his best today… Dakrul will guide them back into life... for they will be sustenance.

His drop pod had crashed just a few moments ago, a descent into a raging pit of fire, what a glorious sight. As he broke through the atmosphere a world of flames and dancing shadows opened up to him. The ground was coal and its populace timber, more of the same to sustain a hellfire that was destined to burn forever.

His task had been telepathically burned into his mind again and again by the heathen priests of the Gehinnom. His previous task had been completed, but the Sithspawn couldn’t quite recall the events. He had fractured parts of himself, chipped off at the grand sum of energy he let flow through him. Yet this sort of phenomenon was normal. He was a creature of recycled life-force, to sustain past his own he had to forcefully take that of others. Replacing parts of his essence with theirs, an endless cycle, the price of immortality.

Yet the recent events of acting as a battery to the mental warfare against the ancient and space-faring Summa-Verminoth had taken its toll.
A complicated ritual had to be attempted multiple times to fully restrain his splintered mind, to reshape the mutant's sense of “service”. As always they had done a wonderful job though.

He could hear the screams, he watched as thick sprays of the life-juice rich in force power laying dormant in the very blood of the men and women here painted the horizon. A firework of crimson red.

Souls of the departed defused into the Nether, like a fading sunset their light began to dissipate into the sky. He had arrived just in time to fulfill his holy duty to the avatars. His brethren had begun to kill, it was their right to. The Avatars demanded war and death, but they also demanded rebirth. And this would be his task, his service to the greater cause. These people would be a tribute, their hearts would be laid at the feet of all darkness, an offering to the gods.

The massive four-armed golem of flesh and metal fell into motion.

Dakrul needs to be closer…

Armed with his twin-tipped staff the hulking monstrosity set off. This was the chaos of war, surrounded by the smoke of destruction, and the heat of battle Dakrul reached out to disrupt the very essence of death. He would call upon all those that had been forced out of their mortal shells. Their essence reminded of its existence and instilled with a terrible urge to return upon the corpses. To take back their form on this plane. To rebirth into a new existence. The specters listened.

The blue-skinned humanoid carcasses littering the streets of the towns, and its buildings would began to twitch, then flail, then crawl, and lastly there undead bodies would lift themselves as far as they could. Their direction was uniform, each dead gaze centered towards their creator. Just as Dakrull was called to serve they too felt as if it was now their sole service to hail the commands of the Mawite warlock.

Those observing would watch as the zombified townfolk would roam the streets again, without a care in the world and blabbering on about the tragedy of their demise. Unstoppable in their attempt to find the source of their permanence. To return to the Faceless Hunger.

The Mongrel Jaedec Ren Eliz Krayt Alars Keto

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Flashes of bright lightning echoed across the ancient citadel. The platform descending through the vast empty halls of statues. The shadowy figure that spoke to him stood beside Kyrel on the platform next to what seemed to only be a ghost. A voice came forth and yet didn’t seem to be a full physical body. As it a conjuring of magick of sorts. Kyrel only stood his ground surrounded in a citadel of all that he despised, despite his admiration for Darth Vader. He didn’t speak and only listened for what was there to say in such a cursed place. Spending his time in silence as the platform descended and he began his trek into the dark.

After sometime of wandering in the dark. His blade remained activated to dimly light his way. What was led to him by the ghostly apparition was a series of vats. Tech of which he recognized to be old, even to an extent as the clone wars. The vats were surrounded in a green liquid with beings that seemed to be a mix of life and death. Creatures that had once reminded him of Mishel Ren an abomination within the Knights. Something of strange work was being done here, something of which disturbed the undead monster.

The ghost kept speaking, and all the while the vats opened. Some of which were worn a strange armor. Something experimental in design and wielded a blade. Kyrel raised his crimson blade poised to strike. The Ghost watching as several of them proceeded to surround Kyrel. One striking with his blade met with Kyrel’s own lightsaber. Sparks flew as the others then tried to strike. Met with a powerful force blast that sent one of the abominations flying through one of the vats. Glass crumbled and spread out across the ground.

One struck the Ren’s own back of which Kyrel let out a roar. Lowering his blade enough the front attacker had buried his weapon into the Ren’s own shoulder. Forced to one knee for a moment with the creatures surrounding him. It had seemed for a moment as if Kyrel’s own journey would end on this cursed world.

It would not come so easily. “If you think I’ve come here to die. You are sadly mistaken. My destiny is to see the galaxy burn anew!” He said as he slowly rose up, blood dripping from his vicious wounds. With a jolt of dark side energy he sent a repulse that sent several of the monsters through a few more vats. Gripping the front attack and tackling him to his back. The creature trying desperately to strangle Kyrel. His own grip upon its neck applying more strength in the struggle. A crunch was heard as he had snapped its neck and watched the fire fade from his eyes.

“Ghosts and Monsters? Is this all you have led me to?” He gestured the tip of his blade to point towards the ghost. Frustration evident in his tone of voice.

DARKCOM

 

[Loreena Arenais-Valhoun]

Oh no....

What started as what appeared to be the capture of prisoners or slaves had instead turned into a culling. Lori watched in horror as the tactics of the Eternal Empire were now being repeated by another evil government.

Thwnkfully Lori wasn't alone. Other soldiers and combatants from who knows where had decided to take on the Dark Ones and rescue as many innocents as they could.

She pulled out one of her explosive arrows from her quiver, knocking it to her bow, drew back the string and aimed along the sight of the arrow before releasing it. The arrow flew threw the air, the primativeness of it making it nearly invisible until the arrowhead hit it's mark on one of the Maw's soldiers and exploded. The blast radius was a good twenty feet and it sent everyone within it flying. Lori cocked another arrow and repeated the process, her aim only on the Dark Ones who's existence sent rippling waves in the air that made her feel almost nauseous.

"This isn't exactly going as planned...."

A new horror suddenly emerged in the form of the culled Chiss' bodies becoming animated once more. Arla gestured towards from their vantaged point. "Gee, you think? There's no underground for us to slip past them. We have to keep moving!" She took hold of Lori's arm and started to pull her away so that her charge would get the hint.

"Caedyn said my balls of Light stop Darksiders, right? So I'm going to try it!"

"And bring them right to us!"

"Well, then we'll run when they do." Lori focused on the particles of air in front of her, spinning them faster and faster as she had countless times. Normally her balls of Light were for use in underground tunnels and the like so that she could make her way through the darkness. But they also made for very effective flash bangs.

As soon as the ball of Light was big enough, she sent it flying towards Dakrul .

Jaedec Ren A Adara Awaud The Mongrel Eliz Krayt Alars Keto