Dominion Hollow Victory | Dominion of Shinbone

[Braxton Holst]

TAGS: DECEASED Erskine Barran | Kiff Brayde | Sergeant Omen | Open

Braxton was already nursing his second glass of the delicious drink when his acquaintances arrived through the crowd. A charming smile rested on his lips as he stared at the approaching Imperials with a glass raised. ”Lord Barran! I was hoping I’d find you here!” He called over the crowd with a wave of his hand.

This was a great idea.

While they came over, he waved the bartender( Sergeant Omen )over for a few more drinks. ”I hope you two don’t mind Tihaar, this stuff is honestly amazing. I’m not much of a drinker but this stuff will make you think twice about that. No wonder this planet is so cheerful tonight.” He joked with a chuckle before taking another sip.

His gaze fixated on the younger companion for a moment. ”Lord Barran, is this your grandson or a new assistant, if you don’t mind me asking?” He continued, standing up to shake the boy’s hand. ”Braxton Holst, pleasure to meet you. Director and owner of Hex Incorporated.” He glanced at Erskine as he held his hand out towards him. ”I hope my troops were to your satisfaction on Tython, lord Barran. The reports they brought back sounded like a horror show on that planet.” He lowered back into his seat as he took another long sip of his drink.

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

Objective: Yay, visitors!
Location: Tor Valum, Kestri
Tags: Jos Krayt | Kranak Vizsla | Gwyneira Vizsla | Eliz Krayt

Vulcan was awake, an IV for painkillers in his arm. An untouched plate of food sits on the side. Then he noticed he had a visitor, Jos and he was not pleased, not one bit. The Kel-Dor was not afraid to voice his disappointment, he was candid about how he felt and the Ubese was grateful for it, even if he was the one getting told off.

Vulcan for his part sunk into his pillow as Jos reprimanded him, he ran into hell and he could have died and then he'll never know if they won. Shame burned in his cheeks and chest, he worried everyone when he got hurt like that.

Maybe maturity was kicking in or he felt like a kid with obvious chocolate on his face, despite his adamant denial that he ate the treat when he was not supposed to. He loathed the hospital food, it tasted even worse than he remembered, the meats were slimy, the greens were soggy and everything tasted like paper. The Jell-O was the only thing edible, he enjoyed the Strawberries too, but they were once a day things, and he tried to wheedle more, but the Matron was adamant about the rules.

Playing keep away would be rather fun if he was a tad more mobile. Once he can move he will be on the move in the ward and not stuck in bed, He felt better almost instantly when Jos squeezed his shoulder. Vulcan was happy to have visitors and Jos brought lunch, he felt a prang of sadness, Shai made him treats and she was great at it, her first try was great and he pushed his thoughts to the side. Then he grinned mischievously, the effect lost while wearing a mask. But the intentions gleamed in his eyes.

That will be fun, playing cat and mouse with Matron, he placed the box next to him, so that he can tuck it behind his pillow when he needs to hide it.

<"Thank you, Jos."> He replied, his cheerfulness evident in his tone. He will savour every bite.

 

[Khamul Kryze]

The Unchained

Tags: Ghalric Rau

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam

Tython stood...

The weak still yearned to lick their wounds, claiming some small semblance of victory among the ashes of death. Yet, among those glimmers of hope, the truth of death awaited, as it did for all. Perhaps that was what brought the Demon Mandalore to this place of revelry; the concept of hope was lost to him entirely. Hope was for the weak, a concept born out of necessity. Nevertheless, he never gave up on his people. They were conquerors, once, and would be again, should they realize the error of their ways. Khamul was never a true believer in the Maw's teachings, but he knew that there was a simple truth to the life of a Mandalorian...

They were warriors.

Even those that disagreed with his methods would agree in this. His people were born for the fight, meant to be drowned in glory and violence. Those that hadn't chosen to see this were clearly unworthy, not unlike the cowards he had faced upon the grounds of New Mandalore. It mattered little to the Unchained, however, as he knew that one day a stronger warrior would bring about his own downfall. But until that day, he would remain ever vigilant, and would do his best to attempt to rally his people until that fateful day came.

His approach was largely unknown, his presence kept largely concealed through the Force. Despite this, as he touched down upon the ground of his lost brethren, Khamul knew that his presence would soon be noticed. After all, he was visiting this kin, and what would they be, if not astute?

 

[Eliz Krayt]

Gwyn got up and..

She fell.

He blinked slowly. Part of him suddenly felt very annoyed that he was still sitting. But it was Kranak that got up to help her. That, and he was trying to figure out just what his relationship with the big man was. He was clearly Gwyn's father. He held no doubts about that. But he was fussing over Eliz just as much? His brow scrunched in thought, but not for long.

Nose pinched, he just nodded to the request. Glanced to Gwyn briefly.

"I'll do what I can."

He owed them that much, right?

Kranak Vizsla | Gwyneira Vizsla

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

2nd post

AN AGE OF STRIFE PRELUDE

SHIELD_ALPHA

Lord-Regent of the Galactic Empire
Grand-Triumvir of the Tarkinist Administration

Tags: Kiff Brayde Braxton Holst Ghalric Rau Sergeant Omen

A NIGHT OFF, BUT NOT FROM MAN'S AMBITIONS - PART 2

​

The Mythosaur's Den, Market District,
Midtown, Kestri (Early-877 ABY)

'Lord Barran! I was hoping I'd find you here!'
​

Lord Erskine nodded in kindly courtesy, followed closely by Brayde as they approached the table and sat opposite, letting Holst wave over the barkeep as he continued,'I hope you two don't mind Tihaar, this stuff is honestly amazing. I'm not much of a drinker but this stuff will make you think twice about-', but Erskine had trailed his attention off towards the barkeep in particular, noting a very familiar face in the process and letting the sound of Braxton's voice fade away to the wrathful white-noise building up in his ears at the time. Like tinnitus, but pulsating with his rising heart-rate, though fortunately for the former ARC-Trooper, the old Woad was more than adept in the art of controlling and transmuting such energy in his mind and soul alike.

'Lord Barran, is this your grandson or a new assistant, if you don't mind me asking?'

But before he had any time to process how psychotic he may have looked in the eyes of the others, Barran was suddenly snapped out of his silent, intolerant scrutinisation, finding himself looking back to Holst once more, who was still intrigued enough to have wandered complete attentions over to Brayde as Barran replied,'This, actually - is a former-Confederate.... But we'll get to that in due course, feel free to make your acquaintances for now though.', seeing the beginnings of clique-formation patterns occurring before his very eyes. In this instance however, going against the very thing that may have kept him alive in the long run, understood the risks enough to allow it's conception; a war-criminal and an ex-convict walk into a bar to meet with an ambitious corporate-syndicalist, the realisation of the old dad-joke implications certainly helped to allay his fears on the matter.

But one was still missing from this picture.... The grizzled veteran field-agent, the former-Spectre.

'Braxton Holst, pleasure to meet you. Director and owner of Hex Incorporated.'

As soon as Branston's hand left the embrace of Kiff's own, the same right hand was offered to Lord Erskine, to which he finally replied,'This here is Mr. Kiff - Brayde. An' I, Erskine Barran as you know already, can't help but admit the pleasure ought to be mine on this occasion.', meeting the handshake in kind with the only hand he had left before the barkeep placed the glasses and Holston's bottle of choice on the table between them. Understanding what the old Woad was really saying to him, Holst leaned back into his seat, adopting a calmly receptiveness to what was on the verge of being discussed between them.

'I hope my troops were to your satisfaction on Tython, lord Barran. The reports they brought back sounded like a horror show on that planet.'

Looking into the glass at the tincture that had been poured in courteously by the barkeep before leaving them to it, Barran made eye-contact with Omen and silently beckoned him over before saying,'Two chairs, two glasses - you're sitting-on, and drinking-from, one of each.... You'll probably want to be here for this part anyway.', holding off with a patient smirk given to both Holst and Brayde, with simple glances back and forth before the Lord-Regent finally drank what tasted slightly stronger than the Tihaar he was acclimated to. This would be appreciated enough that the old Woad would chuckle as he poured drinks in preparation for what would be revealed next, as it had troubled him enough before that it had given him reason to believe this was troublesome news for Bastion's war on Exegol, and troubling the old man enough that he no longer believed the War of Order and Chaos to have been won with lasting finality.

'So - as for those reports you speak of, I thank every able surviving officer for offering the detail they did after the fact. Can't have been easy by any means, especially not after seeing how these Mawites arrayed their attack.... You know they were utilising deep-flanking manoeuvres, right? But not only that, the Battle of Mt. Geran seemed to reveal quite a lot of other useful intel we may have missed to our detriment. An' Still, its the content o' this intel that leaves me feeling more than a little concerned, if you catch my drift.'

 

[Shakka Bralor]

​

Looking For A Match

Location:Kestri
Equipment:Equipment In Bio
Tag: Faison Kelborn Fenn Stag Kalen Genet Lesha Priest Minerva Fhirdiad Romul Saxon
Song:

Her voice rose as she chanted the ancient words of the Dha Werda Verda. Her warriors' voices followed her; they were fewer than the sixteen who had entered the Avatar of War; now casualties had been high. They had come into the valley Romul Saxon suggestion. Though honestly most of them had come because the rage of their failure to destroy the Avatar still burned in their hearts and it could only be quenched with blood. So they were here on Kestri in the valley belonging to their ancient enemy to satiate their hatred.

She saw Romul's dropship begin to descend and signaled her pilot to follow in after them. The steady thrum of the dropships engines was matched by staticy mandalorian voices, beskar shod boots stamping, and the sounds of weapons clanking against armor. She could hear the vong now screaming their challenges and roaring their battle cries in the tree line. Today would be good vong blood would stain the snow of the valley black and their rage would be well spent ridding Kestri of an age old problem.

​

​

​

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Gwyn heard the hushed voices of Kranak and Eliz, and knew that something was likely up. Kranak had a habit of hiding his own flaws from her. And Eliz had ghosted her once to avoid her knowing about his leg. Still, Gwyneira decided to leave it be. It was nothing. It had to be. They were more likely than not just sharing private conversation. Kranak had cherished Eliz as a son, after all.

Soon enough, Kranak was going through Gwyn's closet looking for a good outfit, making comments about her awful sense of fashion through it all. He eventually found an outfit and a coat for her. He helped her dress, then helped her over to Eliz and asked him to carry her for him. If was peculiar to Gwyn. Why did he only use one hand? Was he holding something else? And why not carry her himself? Was he just trying to jostle Eliz's memory more?

Soon enough, they were making way through town towards the hospital. In Eliz's arms, Gwyn savored the revived memories of the many, many times he scooped her in his arms and held her. A small blush tinted her cheeks, despite Kestri's chill. She hugged him, leaning her head against his shoulder and memorizing his new Force Signature. She could not see him, but she could feel him, even sense him now! His familiar scent comforted her, and for one of the few times ever she felt truly secure.

Eventually, the sliding of doors, changes in the sounds of her family's footsteps, and rise in temperature marked their entrance into a building. The sounds of mechanical beeping caused Gwyneira to tense, and she had to remind herself that she was at hospital, not her father's laboratory. Heart pounding, she clung to Eliz tighter and called, "Buir? Don't leave me in a place like this."

Her sweaty hands gripped Eliz's clothes as they walked down hallways. She was helpless and rawly reminded of her torments. She trusted Kranak and Eliz, but after what happened at the Netherworld, her sense of reality was fading. Would she somehow find herself back in that wretched place, so helpless? Would she wither into the Netherworld again? Would Eliz be torn from her again? She tried her hardest to focus on her worry for Vulcan, but all her trials and tribulations were staying with her. Sweating and shaking, she would desperately be relieved when she sensed Vulcan's Force Signature and hear the door to his room open.

"Vulcan! Are you okay!?" The legless and blind girl called from Eliz's arms.

Kranak Vizsla Eliz Krayt Vulcan Krayt Jos Krayt

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen rubbed his eyes as he turned back to the bar, he saw the high roller and Owner of Hex Inc Braxton Holst had been joined by the old Woad and Co. This was going to be an interesting conversation. Rounding the end of the bar, he nodded to the three men and gave Lord Barran a slight smile at his request. "Tihaar's not the only thing on the menu Gentlemen. It's just what's easiest to reach." Reaching his hand under the bar, it scraped against the inside of the beer rack with just enough pressure to activate the recording system within. Having a record of this conversation wouldn't hurt after all. Coming back up to the surface with two pitchers filled with his meiloorun Tihaar and his own version of Ottegan mead. The Mead was made by spacers for spacers and when some of his vod including his sister were nomadic as they come, it seemed to fit in with the culture as much as anything here.

As the Clone raised a handout, a chair would magically slide across the floor towards the bar. After getting the man a glass and handing it over to him, he glanced over the mystery man's face to see if he remembered it from anywhere. He had to be important to be with Lord Barren of all people. Though then again, it wouldn't be unheard of for the Lord to be around common soldiery. Maybe there wasn't a story to him after all. Oh well, he could always look it up later.

The Bartender pulled up his own chair up to the bar and poured a little of the Tihaar into his cup as he listened to the Lord speak. It must be important if he was here in having a meeting in his bar. He was not disappointed. "The Maw has had plenty of time to develop counters to our tactics. Those deep flanking maneuvers are just some examples. Their use of giant warbeasts is another tactic that they love to use to direct our fire onto one source while their other troops use the opportunity to take cover or counterattack. It was one of those beasts that prevented us from capturing the Avatar." With an armored hand, he gestured for the Lord to continue with his debrief. Hopefully, the intel the Woad had in his head would be worth closing late by himself

Kiff Brayde Braxton Holst DECEASED Erskine Barran

 

[Thonn Rokkal]

Alora Vizsla Sergeant Omen DECEASED Erskine Barran Khamul Kryze Braxton Holst Kiff Brayde

---

It had seemed like quite the battle, but it was over and he only had his memories. He'd made a hasty landing and burst out of his GRL-109 Moonlighter starship with his jetpack at full throttle, only to get intercepted by five of the Maw at once. Thonn found himself pinned down, but was saved by a band of Jedi, and they were all rip-roaring drunk. After a bit of drinking of his own to catch up with them, they then burst away to do battle with some fifty foot tall Sith lord who had laser cannons for eyes.

Except, none of that actually happened. Not a lick of that story was real, and as Thonn recovered from his head injury, he realized them for the figments of imagination they were.

What actually happened was that Thonn got intercepted by a lone member of the Maw before he could land, and the guy had a heavy surface-to-air missile system with him. And he was a kriffing good shot. The missile struck straight into the base of the left wing of the ship, and Thonn careened down towards the surface while in a struggle to regain control. He'd reduced his speed and descent, mostly, but the landing was harsh, sending a poorly secured power-pack flying into his head and whisking him away from the land of the still-conscious.

To his luck, and eternal gratitude, the missile launch had gained the attention of his vode, and they rushed immediately to engage. Intercepting the interceptor, the fought off the lone Maw, who wisely choose to withdraw rather than commit suicide by numbers. His vode found Thonn completely stunned and still strapped to his seat, and promptly extracted his from battle nearly as soon as he'd arrived.

Now, he sat in the med centre. He missed the fight entirely, and that really sucked. But he also nearly died outside of actual combat, and that would've sucked even harder, he guessed. It also sucked that he was stuck in the med centre for so long. It might be best to count one's blessings, but it sure wasn't easy for him. He'd been there for a couple of weeks now, and Thonn really wanted out. It was stupefying how dull it was here, and he'd grown incredibly restless. He'd hoped for an earlier recovery a week ago, but he still wasn't feeling all good. This week had him feeling much better, and preliminary tests from the medic had confirmed it. As soon as the doctor cleared him, he'd be good to go. Then he'd get a long desired bottle of Tihaar to drink with his vode.

As soon as the doctor arrived, a hopeful Thonn sat straighter in his seat.

"Well, looks like you've recovered well. Everyhing looks much better. It was probably just a concussion, though that's still not good, y'know. Now, I just want to go over those memories – aside from that, I think you look fine to go..." The doctor stated, and Thonn nodded knowingly. He had been pretty delusional about the whole thing, and while they seemed real back then, time and recovery had long since exposed them to be false. He knew that now; so by all accounts he was better. Thonn just had to answer the doctor, and off to the bar he'd go.

"Okay, maybe I didn't go drinking with a bunch of Jedi then...Or ever..." Thonn began, earning a nod from the doctor. But contentment turned into dismay as Thonn's answer transformed into a rant.

"But Jedi do go drinking! Or substances or spice or something. I know they do. I fought beside inebriated Jedi knights. Not during this battle, yeah, but once. It's like their fight juice... or, something! Sometimes they'll do it before because of...uh, force working stuff." Thonn's meandered off, his rant coming to a winding halt while the doctor simply shook his head, jotting a note onto his clipboard after.

"No Thonn, they don't! Maybe a few break the rules, but not so commonly and brazenly, that's absurd! Those weren't Jedi and-"

"They were!" Thonn retorted. He was absolutely sure Ishida Ashina was a Jedi.

"Okay, okay. That's not important. Look, let's just see how you're doing tomorrow."

"You said I'd be better by now."

"Well, you're not."

"I was supposed to go out drinking tonight!"

"That is the last thing you should be doing!!" The doctor scolded Thonn, stiffening up as he did.

"Occupy yourself however you want, you're not bedridden. But stay here. We'll do further checks tomorrow." The doctor concluded, abruptly turning away to depart.

Once hopeful, Thonn found himself completely disappointed by the assessment. He'd been dead set that today he'd head out and drink, and despite the doctor's disapproval Thonn remained resolute in this desire. Besides, what did that doctor know? He'd been confidently wrong about inebriated Jedi – Thonn was wrong...but he also thought seen them firsthand, so he was absolutely certain about that anyhow. That doctor might have been sure that Thonn needed another day in the centre, but Thonn was sure that doctor didn't know kriff.

And so, he went drinking anyway.

He managed to sneak out with ease. Not that he was particularly stealthy, but it turns out that if you simply reply with 'yeah' when they ask if you're clear to go, they simply let you out.

Soon after, he was there. Once he entered, the stage and attention-grabbing display of lights immediately seized his attention. Spotting Alora Vizla, he looked around and saw Sergeant Omen behind the bar as well. Now, Thonn wanted a drink and Omen was the exact man who could solve that problem, so naturally the heavy gunner made his way over to him, and quickly, too.

"Tihaar, please. I'm aching for a drink, been two weeks without!" Thonn asked, further sharing his own plight with the request.

 

[Braxton Holst]

TAGS: DECEASED Erskine Barran | Kiff Brayde | Sergeant Omen | Open

Braxton blinked at the boy’s description given by Erskine, a sturdy nod following. ”Former confederate. Well, good sir, me and you need to sit down and talk details! I’m actually in the process of expanding my operations in the former territory, and advice or information would be of great use.” He explained with a beaming grin.

Handshakes were exchanged with enthusiasm before Braxton helped himself to a few more sips of the delicious drink.

"Tihaar's not the only thing on the menu Gentlemen. It's just what's easiest to reach."

”Well it’s certainly the only one I’m caring for tonight! The stuff is amazing. I’m going to be placing an order for some bottles once we’re done here.” He commented as he watched the bartender. His gaze shifted to Erskine as the man ordered the bartender to join them with a curious tone and choice of words. Once again, a hand was held out to shake the bartender’s hand. ”Braxton Holst, a pleasure to meet you, mister…?” He trailed off, hoping the man would introduce himself.

'So - as for those reports you speak of, I thank every able surviving officer for offering the detail they did after the fact. Can't have been easy by any means, especially not after seeing how these Mawites arrayed their attack.... You know they were utilising deep-flanking manoeuvres, right? But not only that, the Battle of Mt. Geran seemed to reveal quite a lot of other useful intel we may have missed to our detriment. An' Still, its the content o' this intel that leaves me feeling more than a little concerned, if you catch my drift.'

While the military talk flew somewhat over his head, Braxton nodded along in earnest while he figured out the jist of what Erskine meant. ”Crafty tactics or not, my boys know how to adapt. They were on Nimban a while back, essentially their first proper war. Lots of experimental weapons and vehicles in that fight as well… they came out on top. Smashed those mud-scuffers to pieces.” He couldn’t help but take pride in that fight.

"The Maw has had plenty of time to develop counters to our tactics. Those deep flanking maneuvers are just some examples. Their use of giant warbeasts is another tactic that they love to use to direct our fire onto one source while their other troops use the opportunity to take cover or counterattack. It was one of those beasts that prevented us from capturing the Avatar."

Braxton gave a daring laugh at the mention of the beasts. ”Tython, good sir, proved plenty. The Maw might have all kinds of beasts and thousands of slaves… but even beasts of war are no match for a hail of missiles and the rolling thunder of tanks.” A finger was held up as he gulped down another sip and topped off his glass.

”And that is why I want to talk to you. I was hoping the Quartermaster could join us, though I’m sure you can pass the word on to her for me.” He smiled at the Mandalorian. ”The Maw’s influence is the least of our concerns these days. I have it on good authority that the Sith are rising once again. Separate from the Maw. Bad things are coming, good sirs.” He looked at each one by the table for a moment.

”And that is what Hex Incorporated is for. To halt that evil. To stop these… pests... from rising. But in order to do that, I need territory. Mines, factories, all of that. So I want to know from you, Lord Barran, what are the chances to form a partnership with the Empire and Hex Incorporated. I can give you soldiers, supplies, resources, I can repair worlds devastated by the Maw.” He looked at Kiff and Omen. ”Same goes for the Enclave and former Confederate territories. Christophsis and Mon Gazza are already up and running. And you can see the improvements for yourselves. I don’t wish to sound pretentious, but Mandalorians are warriors, arguably the best, but they are not rulers. And Lord Barran, I know the Empire’s been suffering in its war with the Maw. I think your people deserve a chance to breathe after all these years of constant war. I can help to take the load off your shoulders, so you and your people can focus on more important aspects.”

He sat back with his glass to his lips as he looked at the three men.

 

[Alora Vizsla]

"Iis. Ji. KIJ!"

Alora blinked and twisted about at the elated cry. Warm eyes watched as a man was suddenly sent sailing into the air by the blast of a massive air cannon. "They found that already?"

You didn't try to hide it.

"Was I supposed to?" Alora asked Gambit not entirely sure that'd ever been the intent.

With a shrug, the young Mandalorian spun about and bounced through the crowd like a gi through pirun. With a wink here and a cry there, Alora made sure spirits were high in Party Central of the festivities. 'Epar, pirur, bal cuyir hape, par waralyu gar kapr ramaanar' wasn't exactly a foreign concept to a warrior society. Alora knew well enough from plenty of experience you had to make life worth living while you were still alive to do it.

Arm thrown about Thonn Rokkal 's shoulders, Alora flashed Sergeant Omen a big grin and held up two fingers. "Make that two, and make it a double!" Order placed, Alora looked around at Thonn. "You didn't punch a doctor to get out of there, did you?"

POYO! Thonn Rokkal | Sergeant Omen | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Khamul Kryze | Braxton Holst | Kiff Brayde
​

Spoiler: Translations

Iis. Ji. Kij! -- Rus. Ro. Dah!
gi -- Fish
pirun -- Water
Epar, pirur, bal cuyir hape, par waralyu gar kapr ramaanar -- Eat, drink, and be merry, for tonight you may die.

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Victory, At What Cost

Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla | Eliz Krayt | Vulcan Krayt | Jos Krayt​

Walking beside his daughter on the snow covered solitary streets, he could feel her tense up ever so slightly as they came one step closer to the hospital; a subconscious reaction towards anything that remotely resembled the laboratory she had remained a captive for several months in the past. Her subconscious reactions only grew more prominent as they walked through the sliding doors and into the hospital. The omnipresent smell of antiseptics wafted in the air, mixing with the acrid smell of blood. The faint beeps of the heart monitors, medical personnel moving about in urgence to administer medical care to the dozens of injured in need… Looking at his daughter beside him, he could see and feel the environment starting to take its toll on her as she clung to the young lad’s arm like her life depended on it. It was undeniable the place stirred some unpleasant memories.

"Buir? Don't leave me in a place like this."

Underneath the buy’ce that masked his features, a faint smile twisted his usually battered, stone-faced expression. The giant placed his hand over her left shoulder and gently squeezed in silent response, reassuring that he would be there for her.

Asking around for the Ubese to the personnel behind the front desk of the hospital, it didn’t take them long to find the kid’s room. Walking down the hallways, they made their way towards the hospital wing his room was located at. Coming to a halt in front of his room, he paused for a moment before he reached for the door knob. He only heard he was injured and not the extent of it. Silently muttering a prayer to the Manda he was okay and in one piece, the Mandalorian turned the door knob and walked in.

"Vulcan! Are you okay!?"

His heart sank as he laid eyes on the kid’s injuries, but a muffled sigh of relief followed soon after. Although he was wrapped in gauze and painkillers administered to him intraveinously, he could see the telltale signs of his condition improving from a medic’s perspective. He’d exponentially regain his strength with each passing day. Bacta worked miracles, after all.

Leaning his back against the wall behind him, he’d watch Gwyn and Eliz catch up with Vulcan and the recently appointed Alor of Clan Krayt in silence.

​

​

​

​

​

 

[Jos Krayt]

TAGS: Vulcan Krayt | Kranak Vizsla | Gwyneira Vizsla | Eliz Krayt
GEAR: In bio

RUŽICE RUMENA​

Jos nodded as Vulcan thanked him, the gratitude bright as day in the Ubese’s eyes. ”Just make sure you hide them well. The last thing I need is the nurse coming after me.” He quipped with a chuckle as he gave the boy’s shoulder one final squeeze before he looked at the door. ”It appears we have some visitors on their way.” He muttered, looking back at Vulcan. ”Put those away before people help themselves to it.” He nodded at the lunchbox as he walked to the edge of the bed, his hands on his hips as he waited to see who it was.

His senses weren’t fooling him.

Gwyneira, Eliz, and their father came through the door in various states of damage. The Kel Dor’s tall stature stood in the way of them from reaching Vulcan, at least for the moment. A long sigh rolled through his mask as he looked at the new arrivals with little to no emotion on his features.

”Why is it, when something happens, it is always you three?” He asked them with disappointment dripping from his voice as he glared at each child, Vulcan included. His covered eyes shifted to Kranak. ”And you. I think it’s safe to say the Wardog proved her point on Tython.” He stepped out of the way to let them through, his attention still on Kranak. ”Gwyn, Eliz, I shall address you on the mothership. For now… make sure Vulcan doesn’t set the nurse’s hair on fire.” With a snicker he walked past them, giving the Giant a nudge to follow him out the door into another room.

”Before I even begin to address the action reports, I would just like to say that I’ve seen foundlings with a better approach than yours on Tython. What the hell happened down there?” He asked him with a stern tone, looking directly into his eyes.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

3rd post

AN AGE OF STRIFE PRELUDE

SHIELD_ALPHA

Lord-Regent of the Galactic Empire
Grand-Triumvir of the Tarkinist Administration

Tags: Kiff Brayde Braxton Holst Ghalric Rau
Sergeant Omen Alora Vizsla

A NIGHT OFF, BUT NOT FROM MAN'S AMBITIONS - PART 3

​

The Mythosaur's Den, Market District,
Midtown, Kestri (Early-877 ABY)

They understand, but only to a certain extent....​

He couldn't expect them to know, and for that matter, nor to see what it was that was concerning Lord Erskine so much about the fight for Tython in the first place; but in understanding the flow of the conversation, and in his lifelong ability to read the room well enough, Barran knew to wait for the right moment to bring the matter up. Braxton had been wise enough to use his opportunity to open up contractual talks with the new faces in the discussion, though he had admittedly been rather remiss as to the nature of the nuts-and-bolts elements of the war, though the old Woad knew this was easily mended with enough time spent in his presence. Particularly time with friends that would not be begrudged of Holst in the following years, as Barran knew exactly how lonely life had been for the Imperial leaders of the past, and would do his utmost to keep that misery from setting in for as long as he held the rank of Lord-Regent.

After all, the ambitious owner of the Hellions was proving to be quite the interesting individual already, calling on Omen's links with the Mandalorian Enclave to establish a meeting with their well-respected Quartermaster. But not only that, Braxton seemed to near-instantly prove his worth as a treasure-trove of delicate intel in his own right, revealing,'The Maw's influence is the least of our concerns these days. I have it on good authority that the Sith are rising once again. Separate from the Maw. Bad things are coming, good sirs.', with an honesty attributed to one who was fully aware of what it took to beat back the Sith Empire before. And despite Holst's outlook on the matter of the new Sith, Barran understood why his new acquaintance would speak in such a way, as any power rising out of Panatha would be in a position to eradicate multiple factions, and all through their enemies' weakest border-frontiers as that.

'And that is what Hex Incorporated is for. To halt that evil. To stop these… pests... from rising. But in order to do that, I need territory. Mines, factories, all of that. So I want to know from you, Lord Barran, what are the chances to form a partnership with the Empire and Hex Incorporated. I can give you soldiers, supplies, resources, I can repair worlds devastated by the Maw.'

Interesting....​

It looked like the mercenaries of the Galaxy were growing with their ambitions, something in particular that was almost-completely unheard of in Erskine's years as an exile, and though the earlier half of the 9th Century ABY was in no way an indicator of how the progression of PMC capabilities, it was still a decent reference point for how quickly the Galaxy's mercenary companies had evolved from the 850s onward. But in finally seeing Holst in his element like this, studying the corporatist as his eyes drifted to Omen and Brayde for the next part of his pitch, one that was aimed almost solely towards the Clone and the Confederate. However, what came out next revealed more than just ambition, what Braxton was showing instead was the near-contrasting makings of intent, an intent of which Lord Erskine knew he needed to make good use, such he knew would be better suited to the Imperial business and warfare models above those of their Galactic competitors.

'Same goes for the Enclave and former Confederate territories. Christophsis and Mon Gazza are already up and running. And you can see the improvements for yourselves. I don't wish to sound pretentious, but Mandalorians are warriors, arguably the best, but they are not rulers. And Lord Barran, I know the Empire's been suffering in its war with the Maw. I think your people deserve a chance to breathe after all these years of constant war. I can help to take the load off your shoulders, so you and your people can focus on more important aspects.'

This one wanted to make their presence felt, this one wanted to play the Galactic power game, as an entirely new player on the map in a time of irreversible tumult, the very sort the Empire would need in their attempt to curb all disorder in the upcoming Age of Strife. The revelation of Hex's capabilities in planetary-repair was enough for the Empire's Lord-Regent to know how serious his new acquaintance was, and knowing when to keep a PMC on his good side, (especially one with a supremely-powerful financier as their director from the offset) the old Woad chuckled as he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a cigar first then a bio-scan datapad as soon as the cigar itself was propped between his beard-obscured lips. Sliding the device across the table, Barran politely passed Holst a cigar in contrast, already assuming acceptance as he drawled,'Terms.... All resources on offer, in perpetuity. A lifelong contract with the Empire, handsomely paid as you can see.', looking away to concentrate on lighting his Faslaner Gold-Standard in anticipation.

'Owe it to the fact that I also was a Merc until I fell in lock-step with the NIO.... Close to twenty-five years as the serving Chairman o' the Noble Exiles PMC.'

'Folks like yourself will find their true value with my lot, though I won't stop you from working contracts with the Enclave', the old Woad continued, taking light drags from his cigar as he thought on how best to word the next part without sounding too ambitious on his own part. Understanding that Holst needed to think big in order to make his presence felt in the Galaxy, but in holding together an Empire of ideological foundations, Barran knew it would be for the best if he played it as calm and collected as possible, especially if he wished to keep his friends as unperturbed as possible at the early stages of their clique's formation. Drinking more Tihaar, politely then opting to down the rest for the sake of quickness, appreciatively grimaced his way through the strength of it before concluding,'As it would appear we're of the same mind in those endeavours.... An' bein' honest, definitely of the same mind in the urge to stick with the Tihaar the-night. This stuff's fierce, so it-', before being interrupted loudly by a fracas near the exit-door.

'Looks like your department, Omen. Fire back when yer done wae that, lad.... We're not plannin' on gawn anywhere in a hurry or anything.'

 

[Vulcan Krayt]

Objective: Yay, visitors!
Location: Tor Valum, Kestri
Tags: Jos Krayt | Kranak Vizsla | Gwyneira Vizsla | Eliz Krayt

He'll be sure to keep his new food away from the Matron. He was thankful for the pain killers as the first batch had worn off. He's heard of Nurses telling people off for bringing food in and he had been bipped before for leaving a treat out in the open before. He'll be sure to be sneakier about it. Soon he heard visitors arrive, so he stashed his lunchbox of delights away for later. The smells made him hungry, but he needs to be cunning to outfox the Nurses. He hoped to be mobile and able to wander the Hospital.

<"They will never find 'em."> Vulcan says with a tone that suggests mischief.

Gwyn's voice stood out and the tightness in his chest loosened. She survived, he took a look at her, she lost a leg, her eyes were gone and she looked in a pretty bad way. It was lucky he found the cybernetics to the eyes as he was about to put them in a pickling jar. Not fun to repair, so he put them in a box. At least that was the plan. He had little memory of much as he was nearly .. well. He can't dwell on what may have been, he needs to focus on what is to come.

He sunk into his pillow again, he was reckless and willing to go headfirst into everything and he grew a habit of saying he's fine when it was obvious he was not fine at all. So he had to hesitate, he saw that Gwyn was hurt and she was missing eyes and one leg. So he had to fight the instinct to say he was fine. It's what got him here, the desire to pass his rites and become more than a foundling.

<"I hurt all over and I loathe the food here."> He says, finally telling the truth. He wasn't really okay since Roon and he knew it, he wanted to keep a strong head and do his part but it just made him feel worse.

 

[Kale Onara]

Kale Onara had landed an hour ago and made his way to the medical wings. He stopped when he saw Siv Dragr floating in the bacta tank. Under his expressionless helmet, Kale's jaw hardened as he watched one of his few friends float there unconscious. Movement out of the corner of his display called for his attention. He saw Vren Rook standing vigil at Siv bacta tank.

I should've been there... He lamented but duty had pulled him away to the other side of the galaxy and as a result here he was looking at the aftermath of Tython. He walked over and nodded to Vren, "Vren." He looked back at Siv and sighed, "Still about the toughest man I've ever known."

((OOC: Sorry I've been gone awhile everyone. COVID finally hit me and my family but we managed to pull through. I'm hoping to be back and a lot more active now. See you all around.))

TAG: Siv Dragr, Vren Rook

 

[Romul Saxon]

W A R M A S T E R

Objective: Complete Training Gauntlet
Location: Vong Dead Zone, Kestri
Tag: Kalen Genet | Faison Kelborn | Fenn Stag | Minerva Fhirdiad | Lesha Priest | Shakka Bralor

"Squad up," Romul ordered as the last of the Mandalorians disembarked from their dropships, which began to lift off back into the Kestrian night sky. "Cadets, stay with your vet handlers. Commandos, stay with your squads. A lone Mandalorian is a dead Mandalorian in the VDZ." The rifle that he carried was small next to his massive frame, and the weight of his armor caused him to leave deep tracks in the freshly fallen snow of the forested valley.

As the dropships pulled away, their droning hum faded off to a distant whisper, leaving only the sounds of the forest. Unlike the rest of Kestri -- surprisingly populated with wildlife despite the arctic conditions -- the Vong Dead Zone was eerily quiet. Whatever unfortunate fauna that found itself in here was either eaten or taken for experimentation by the mutated Vong that infested the valley.

And soon enough, a howl echoing through the forest -- shrieking and unnatural -- meant that the Mandalorians presence was known. "Let's get moving," Romul ordered as he began making his way towards the treeline. The deep forest would provide some measure of cover for the Mandalorians; at the very least, it was better to fight in the dense foliage where the Vong would have to spread their numbers thin than to be surrounded in the open.
​

​

​

​

​

​

 

[Kiff Brayde]

P R I S O N E R​

Tag: DECEASED Erskine Barran | Braxton Holst | Ghalric Rau | Sergeant Omen

Kiff listened to the two men talk, taking no liberty in making any interjections. He was a glorified assistant, more a prisoner on a pedestal. Even if Erskine wasn't sated by mere torture -- for which Kiff was grateful -- he was no more a free man at the Lord Regents side than in Rausgebergrad. Braxton Holst reminded him of the corporate executives Kiff had bandied with during his time in the Confederacy military. Some savvy, some blunt, all equally greedy though they tried their best to hide it with their smooth words and sweet compliments. Perhaps that was why Kiff's nod towards the man held an element of coolness into it, for the former Minister of War was jaded to the talks that ran the galaxy's military-industrial complex.

"I have no loyalty towards the former Confederacy. They are a barren and failed state. My home is the Empire now," he heard himself clarify to Holst. It was a partial truth; Kiff had no love for the Confederacy. At the best of times they had held him back, and it was their incompetence that he'd paid the price for the last five years. Now they'd scampered off to wild space, tail between their legs, but knowing the high-minded individuals that still lead their rump state, Kiff would wager they still saw themselves on top of the galaxy. He'd gladly watch the last vestiges of whatever power they held burn. But he felt no love towards the Empire either, the state that had tortured him for crimes he hadn't even committed. Perhaps the words were a self-defense mechanism, involuntary after years of Imperial 'conditioning,' or they were more intuitive, meant to curry favor with his handler to win himself more freedom.

Either way, the only thing Kiff cared about now was himself. The rest of the Galaxy could go to hell, as far as he was concerned.

 

[Eliz Krayt]

Familiar, but also not.

Eliz was frowning the whole way to the hospital. He could just feel that this was something he used to do. Carrying Gwyn around in his arms. But something about the whole thing was way, way off. Not that he had too much time to think about it. Once they were inside, something with Gwyn shifted. Trauma? .. That also seemed pretty familiar. He shook his head.

Once they were in Vulcan's room he'd set her down in a chair, slowly moving his arms. They felt sore. Way too sore. At least Vulcan looked okay. Terrible, sure, but mending. They were part of the same cla- Oh a lecture.

Eliz just blinked at Jos.

".. Um, who are you?"

Vulcan Krayt | Kranak Vizsla | Jos Krayt Gwyneira Vizsla

 

[Sergeant Omen]

Omen took Braxton's hand and gave it a firm shake before nodding to the bottle cases in the front of the pub. "Take your pick, your credits will spend just as good as anyone else's here. And it's Omen, it is a pleasure to meet you in person Mr. Holst. I've already seen all of your lookalikes pasted on billboards for your company." He knew Braxton was a big player in the private military scene and of course, he knew what the executive's aims were, getting more credits in his company's pockets. Well, he would soon find out there was no Mando money to be had.

The Clone scoffed at the mention of the Quartermaster joining them as he cleaned beer glasses. "To be honest, you would have better luck surviving a Death Star laser than seeing her in public. The only things she shows up for are meetings and diplomatic parties. Other than that, she spends her time in that big old spire where no one can see her without an appointment which of course are impossible to get." It was getting hard to take the well-dressed man seriously. People had been saying the Sith were coming back since the fall of the last Sith Empire, all rumors of which were false. Even if the Sith did come back, they would probably get stalled by the other major powers, and then break apart again. A chuckle did rise out of his throat though when the line about Mandos not being rulers came into being. "You are right of course. We don't even have a state healthcare system yet let alone anything else. We've just been lucky that nobody hasn't actively wanted to push us off their world yet."

Tuning out the Woad's response, he stared blankly at the Meshgeroya match going on T.V., wincing at a big hit or smiling at a touchdown. It was better than hearing that two blather on like it was Galaxy News. He only came back into focus when he heard Thonn Rokkal slam his body against the bar, looking exhausted and asking for drinks with Alora Vizsla backing him up and asking him about how he got out of the hospital. Omen quickly slid two full glasses of Tihaar over to them before approaching. "You just got out of the hospital Thonn? For what? Oh and before we continue..." He tossed a full pouch of credits onto the counter as a huge grin grew on his face. "You remember those pictures you mentioned before? Well, there were enough to make a calendar. There are your royalties for it Buddy."

DECEASED Erskine Barran Braxton Holst Kiff Brayde