Justice Is In The Hands Of The People (TU Dominion of Dressel)

[Sinistra]

3/20
Some bar, Breehara

For all her searches, the trail of the Shard had gone cold. He was a cantankerous son of a gorog most of the time, however in the mess of the galaxy proper, he was probably the only thing she could call a friend. Or the closest approximation to it. The problem was they tended to get along like oil and water at times and this was one of those times. She couldn't find a lick of the former Iron Knight.

Breehara, for some strange reason was the Shard's chosen home, despite the fact that he stuck out like a sore thumb among the Dresselians. From what she could gather, they kinda regarded him with some strange awe and as a protector. A savior from the plights of the galaxy at large. They weren't much for galactic politics as it was, and to shield them from the turmoil of it was fine by them.

She would have thought that the recent political rumblings about joining the Techno Union in the wake of the Republic's troubles would have roused him from hiding, but as yet, [member="Eralam"] was nowhere to be found.

Sinistra sat at the bar, a glass of Black Cask whiskey in her hand, watching a news broadcast on HNN about a legion of enforcers from Zenith Prime taking on a rather nasty drug cartel. To each their own.

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

5/20
[member="Verona Chroi"] @Raziel @Kiro Masahide [member="Aelius Varangian"]

Raising up a metal crate and stepping forward into the attack Gorenoth grunted as the crate caved inward from the blow and the tip of the blade periced the Gorachs side in the form of a semi deep wound. Pushing [member="Delam Mairev"] off him Gorenoth roared briefly and releaved himself of all weapons but his power hammer and swung the hammer in a arcing sweep aimed at the captains hips hoping the blow would knock the man over. " You want a fight! Ill give you one!" he shouted.

" May the Strongest survive!" The labs were being over run. Though the droid within would give [member="Laman Ress"] some conflict. All was going to be lost and Gorenoth knew this but the glory of battle still called to him.

 

[Darth Eversor]

3/20

Objective: Defend the Captain

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUNNXecb6nA​

​

​

Departing from his comrade, The Butcher of Ruusan charged into the heat of battle while trying to follow [member="Laman Ress"] as ordered. The former Sith aligned blade ripped through flesh and rendered man and droid immobile or dead. This day was to the Black Imperium, the Legion.

"...Feeeeddddd.....I thirst......"​

​

Satsujin-sha felt an odd pulse throughout his body and winced as he felt some sort of sharp pain in his head. Now was not the time to succumb to a headache, he had to keep pressing forward.​

​

"....Honor.... is it what you seek....? Hahahaha....."​

​

The blade was plunged into the sternum of one of the defenders, screams blended with the roar of battle as the man grabbed for the edge of the sword but only managed to cut his hands and fingers. He struggled to pull himself free, but The Butcher wouldn't allow it. In a moment of confusion and adrenaline, he ripped the war-blade upwards and split the poor sod into two halves. Stepping on and over the mangled corpse, the Captain was just within view. Having a brief window of clarity, Satsujin-sha sent a message to the man's HUD.​

​

"Priority = Your Life - /// - Proceed Without."​

​

"New Directive: Survive"​

​

Still pressing the assault, anger began to build inside the Atrisian's being. His eyes becoming bloodshot as he ripped and tore relentlessly, the blood of enemies painting his synth-leather coat with their wasted time. This battle was futile, their lives meaningless fodder for the Legion to practice their profession of murder and vindictive strife. ​

​

"...Let us be whole....let us be whole.....embrace it...."​

​

He obeyed.​

​

They fell to his blade, his mind lost in a trance.​

​

".....Abraxas...."​

​

The shadows culled inside of Satujin-sha's soul.​

​

Something wicked this way comes.​

​

[member="Verona Chroi"]
[member="Delam Mairev"]
[member="Gorenoth"]
[member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[Placeholder 01]

6/20

For but a moment, Delam's attentions fell to the woman. The force was a mystery for the High Lord - he had studied what was known to the Techno Union of the ethereal realm, but there was woefully little. He knew it drove people to the other side. He knew it ruled those who it touched as much as they ruled it. He knew he lay outside of its unholy touch, permanently immune to its corruption.

"Verona!" He boomed as the ape-beast shoved him away, "Make sure they do not clear their database, or this will all be for naught!"

It was around that time that Delam's opponent swung his hammer. The High Lord was not foolish enough to think he could dodge - rather, he leaned into the strike. His right shoulder bowed forward and caught the hammer. The phrik and durasteel bent underneath the weapon's great weight, but it did not cave completely. Bellowing his outrage, Delam brought an armor-bound fist up toward the beast's gut.

He would not be bested by an inhuman mongrel.

"You've a strong arm beast," he growled, "But I've a stronger one!"

 

[Laman Ress]

6/20
Laman saw as droids and men of the defenders rand down the hallway towards the server room, Laman knew that this wold be a difficult fight, and it would not be easy. Laman and his men took cover and started laying down large amounts of fire towards the enemies. The nameless one sent a message to his hud, it was rather cryptic, but it seemed to tell him to prioritize his survival. Laman would not ever prioritize his survival over the survival of his men, not in a million years. Laman saw as the nameless one brutally and efficiently killed the enemies with his sword, it was as if his personality had changed, this was strange, but he continued to give him cover fire, he did not want any deaths this day.

The men eventually stopped coming but the droids continued to march their way down the hallway, it was almost as if they were infinite and unending, that they will never stop coming. Hopefully his tech experts would be done soon, or else they could get themselves into a less than ideal situation.

[member="Delam Mairev"]
[member="Kiro Masahide"]
[member="Gorenoth"]
[member="Aelius Varangian"]
[member="Verona Chroi"]

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

6/20
It was caught! That was a first and also sight that he had not seen in a long time. This was getting better and better! Gorenoth smirked as the swift punch came towards his gut. Catching the fist with one his lower right arm. Gripping his fist the Gorach's smile was wide. The Human was all tied up and now he would see the strength of the Gorenoth! " You call that strong! Feel my might!" He shouted at the armored man as he began using his other set of arms to wail at [member="Delam Mairev"] head and face. Slowly the Gorach would lean his weight into his attacks attempting to push the Commander back.

" YOUR NOTHING! YOUR AN INSECT!!"

[member="Laman Ress"]
[member="Kiro Masahide"]
[member="Verona Chroi"]
[member="Raziel"]
[member="Sinistra"]

 

[Placeholder 01]

7/20

The broadsword had to be dropped. The blade had no particular significance for Delam - it was one of many he had chosen from a stock. When the blade clattered to the ground, his massive greaves crashed down upon it. The blade splintered and cracked along its length; eventually shattering in half.

Then the blows came.

Delam's armor kept his bones from being broken by the Gorach's attack, but he certainly felt every blow. It jarred him within the armor, made his bones shake and his head thunder in displeasure. The hand that had been caught by the Gorach twisted as Delam activated the inner mechanism. A short vibroblade sprung outward from the gauntlet right toward the hand that held it in place.

"I've a great many tricks beast," Delam grumbled, "You'd be wise to stand down."

The facility burned around them. Bodies of legion warriors, defenders, the metal chassis of fallen droids littered the ground. It was fitting given the circumstances, and the sight filled Delam with an odd concoction of pride and sadness. Disdain for the death; pride for the victory.

The other hand's vibroblade erupted forth and sprung toward the Gorach's chest.

"Yield!"

[member="Gorenoth"], [member="Laman Ress"], [member="Kiro Masahide"], [member="Verona Chroi"], [member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[Darth Eversor]

4/20

"....I am the eater of lives, the thief of blood....heed my calll....."​

​

The pain was becoming unbearable. This migraine brought on by whatever resided within this blade would be the end of Satsujin-sha, but the willpower of the Atrisian was stronger than the dead Sith would ever know. Fighting through the skull-splitting pressure, he remembered his training. Pain was made to be understood as merely an illusion of belief. If one ignores this belief, it shall not be. Impaling one of the defenders through the neck, Satsujin-sha ripped it through the side causing quite a bit of a mess. Due to the momentum and weight of the blade, it carried over and cleaved another poor soul through the shoulder and down through his gut. Glory to the Black Imperium, but at what cost?

The battlefield was strewn about with cadavers, dismembered and mangled from their now past aggression. A mistake on their part, rather.

In the moment The Butcher was looking around, one of the droids took the opportunity to assassinate. Stabbing him through his back with an elongated vibroblade, the mute suddenly became a beacon of noises. Grunts of pain and yells erupted out of his mouth as he sent an armor clad elbow into the mechanical warrior's steely torso, giving him just enough time to gain distance.

Blood leaking out the corner of his mouth, Satsujin-sha's HUD distorted momentarily, his vitals on the edge from that blow. It had scraped against vital organs.

Pushing through the torment of both the blade and physical mortality, he charged and cleaved into the droid. Its chassis being torn into and damaged beyond any repair. It shuddered and locked in place as another swing dismembered the attacker's left arm, and then a final plunge into the very core of the amalgamation of wires and circuits. It had finally died.

"...Your pain.... is.... necessary.... embrace.....it....​

​

Satsujin-sha's breathing was heavy, but he needed to stay alive. Just long enough for the Captain and his men.

He charged on, fighting with honor.

[member="Delam Mairev"]
[member="Gorenoth"]
[member="Laman Ress"]
[member="Verona Chroi"]
[member="Sinistra"]
[member="Raziel"]

 

[Laman Ress]

7/20
Laman watched as the Butcher of Ruusan was mercilessly stabbed through the back with a long vibroblade. The normally silent man screamed in pain and suffering, Laman knew from personal experience the pain of being stabbed, it is not enjoyable in the slightest. Laman fired upon the hordes of droids attacking, hoping that his comrade was okay, he did not want to loose any more soldiers in this fight, especially those that are higher up.

Laman had a moment of relief as his tech experts said over comms that they had sliced into the system and were about to start uploading the data. This was a good thing, it means that they could retreat sooner, he did not want to loose anyone today, and they were being overwhelmed by the droids. This was drilled further into his head as one of the young recruits was shot dead by the droids, Laman would make sure he would be remembered. Laman kept firing upon the droids attempting to slow their advance, though they just kept pushing, hopefully the download would be finished soon.
[member="Kiro Masahide"]
[member="Delam Mairev"]
[member="Gorenoth"]
[member="Verona Chroi"]
[member="Aelius Varangian"]

 

[Sek Kali]

There was a familiar sound, thudding that could only echo through that of fighting- tossing the weight of an entire person through the air. The room shaking with that of explosions, the smell of burnt energy packs and corpses left laying about. And a sharp pain- the feeling of having your own body cut and bruised, yet no one was around. No energy, not even a single living soul, or droid for that matter. There was the initial question that would spark more: "Where am I?" Moving onto her feet, the Trandoshan lifted her head up, barely keeping herself straight as a cold air blew through the room. Vunerable, cold, alone. And even worse were the explosions and blaster fire, what worse could there be outside? Drifting through whatever place this was. A facility? A starship? She couldn't even tell if the gravity was natural or artifical.

The Trandoshan bumped into a table which clattered with tools, a feeling of cold against her reptilian scales, just as uncomfortable as the rest of this place. Nearly collapsing, she took two hands and place them on the table, looking down at it as she breathed in and out slowly. Energy steadily flowed through Sek's legs, rising up to her arms and hands, her brain waking up finally after realizing she was in a situation where safety was not assured. This was a cloning facility, that was one thing Sek remembered, but everything else was hazy. How did she get here? Only the painful feeling on her head could come to mind, as well as a few noises, but how long ago was that? And why was she in a cloning facility of all places?

"i wont get an answer asking questions to myself." She stared toward whatever was the nearest exit- a closed door, outside of it echoed with the noises of whatever this facility was in the midst of experiencing. "I need to get out of here." As the obvious was finally stated in her head, she began to search for anything that looked like clothing, that would at least make Sek feel comfortable.

[member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

7/20
[member="Laman Ress"] [member="Kiro Masahide"] [member="Sinistra"]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ROoalSB2DOM​

He was doomed. The pound against the Gorenoth knew would rattle the commanders core but this human was tougher than the rest. The Gorach goraned some when [member="Delam Mairev"] caught his hand and shrieked in pain as the vibro blade jolted into his flesh. Blood oozed out around the wound. The counter attack had stopped Gorenoth's assault of fists and gave the Gorach a notion of respect of sorts. Fire blazed around the two combatants blocking the rest of the troopers from the conflict. It was as if the two were meant to be engaged in glorious combat. Caught in his thoughts midst of battle Gorenoth looked down at his chestplate.

There was pain. Sharp and rigid pain. His chestplate had be cracked and the tip of the commanders blade pieced his furry chest. Was he losing? Gorenoth shook his head as Delam commanded to yield in combat. The top right hand of the large ape grasped onto the gauntlet that rested against his chest. Slowly pulling out the blade from his chest the Gorach stared at the man before him.

" I am a warrior! Raised to from birth for combat to defend my people and my honor. I do not fear Death! Death is my brother, I see him now reaping those who are ready to pass on. When I am ready he will take me to see my people... And I am not ready!"

Gorenoth suddenly ripped his impaled hand from the commanders grasp tearing it in two rendering it useless. Looking to his chest and the hand that held Delams gauntlet the Gorach twisted the forearm aiming the blade away. Jumping in place the large Apes feet came into view rather quickly and found a place in the form of a mighty drop kick to the commanders chest. Gorenoth needed some space.

 

[Placeholder 01]

8/20

The blades had found new homes within the Gorach's form. In all honestly, Delam had not expected the second strike to hit home. He had thought that the Gorach would sooner fall back, given the new avenue of pain he must be enduring. And yet he continued to fight, even as his hand was ripped apart by the vibroblade. The High Lord was impressed, though that momentary surprise evaporated as the Gorach slammed its feet into his chest.

The blow inflamed the bullet wound he had suffered earlier and knocked the air out of his lungs. Armor or not, that hurt. Delam spat a string of curses as he went tumbling through the mud, only coming to a stop when his body became stuck on one of the many corpses.

Shab.


Standing up slowly, Delam reached for his rifle. The Shacklebolt whirred as it came to life and centered on the Gorach's massive form. The High Lord had fought his brawl - now it was time to cheat.

He didn't say a word. He just pulled the trigger.

Gorenoth, Laman Ress, Kiro Masahide, Verona Chroi, Aelius Varangian

 

[Grrwunhoooll Agaburry]

8/20
[member="Sek Kali"] [member="Laman Ress"] [member="Kiro Masahide"] [member="Sinistra"] [member="Raziel"]
Objective: Last stand activated.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3ZRI6mM3sU​

Drip. Drip. The blood from his torn hand was beginning to feel cold and lifeless. He was tired and impressed by the Commanders overall performance in combat. Rolling back and standing to his feet Gorach watched and waited for the commander to rise to his feet before attacking once again. As soon as his opponent was ready the Gorach charged onward dragging his Concussion Rifle behind him. [member="Delam Mairev"] held firm in the charge and then the shot was taken.

The sound of the rifle firing was loud and then projectile itself was painful. It went straight through his chest collapsing his right lung. Stumbling the Gorach wavered and trailed off to the side falling in the grass to his knees hunched over. His breathing was rapid and held great struggle but yet he wanted to continue to fight. Looking to the sky he groaned loud barring his teeth. By all means Gorenoth looked defeated as he picked at his bandolier and belt as if searching for something. In hand he held a stimpak which he injected by his chest wound and buckled under the pain. Another hand shook as it grasped onto another small stim. Slamming the Stimulant into a major vein in his neck Gorenoth fell on his face as the drug began taking effect.

His pupils dilated and muscled tensed. The combination of both drugs had temporarily stopped his bleeding giving him one last chance. With a swift single movement Gorenoth to aim with his Concussion rifle and screamed firing the rifle at the commander.

* Click* *Click* Only shot shots. Tossing the Weapon to the side Gorenoth gave no warning and leaped over to the Commander. Reaching for him the Gorach aimed to lift the man in the air and throw him against a nearby tree.

 

[Darth Eversor]

5/20

Closing in on the Captain's position, The Butcher exerted more slashes and the gift of death unto the defenders and droids. He could see him, just a few more feet. No longer charging, the silent warrior slowed with his blade dragging on the ground behind him. A droid approached him with its blaster raised but wouldn't get the chance. The two collided as Satsujin-sha bashed the mechanical husk with his right pauldron and brought his blade around into a cleave, dismantling and halving the opponent. No death could tear the Atrisian apart, his comrades needed his support. Before their eyes he would not become another corpse.

Breathing and combat was all there was to be heard, a familiar metallic taste began to fill Satsujin-sha's mouth. He coughed blood onto his HUD, looking at the specks of crimson as yet another memento of how he would overcome the impossible and the worst. He was not such an easy number to add to statistics, his grave was not yet ready to be dug.

The endless horde of droids wasn't a morale breaker in the slightest. He would teach a machine to know fear through pure destruction. Vibroblade at the ready, a member of the mechanical army launched its attack but was stopped in its efforts by the edge of the fearsome Atrisian's instrument. The two locked blades in a struggle, the whirring of components and technological stress pressed into the weight of the The Butcher of Ruusan. Letting out a roar, he broke the lock and forced the droid back, ramming the Sith war-blade into its core processor.

How much longer could they last?

[member="Gorenoth"]
[member="Delam Mairev"]
[member="Verona Chroi"]
[member="Laman Ress"]
[member="Raziel"]
[member="Sinistra"]

 

[Raziel]

[member="Sinistra"]

His appearance had altered very little from his act as a military intelligence officer during a trip to visit the Imperial. His hair was styled to match the local executives went for, rather than a tight crop. Pausing for a moment to let his mind fall into his new routine as easily as his legs into a pair of trousers, he then turned and made a beeline for a trio at the far end.

"Layle!" he called out jovially, drink in hand.

Layle smiled, but there was confusion in his eyes. "I'm so sorry..." he said slowly.

"Raddik! We met at the product expo last week?" Raziel replied.

"Oh, yes, I think so?" Layle replied, looking more relaxed. If it had mattered, Raziel would have subtly altered his psyche to embed the lie.

"Can I grab you for a chat?"

"Sorry, another time?"

"It's about you Thursdays," Raziel replied, eyes narrowing. The colour drained from Layle's face. That's right you sick kriff, I've got you. Now play along.

 

[Verona Chroi]

4/20

Verona nodded to Delam, though the tank wouldn't have seen her acknowledgment as she went off to find the server room. If they could cut the lines, they could keep the fiends from dumping their files before the legion could gather the evidence they needed. Thulu fed her directions as she ran, his detached voice beckoning her onwards through the halls. There were doors that opened, but few of the surprised offered her any resistance when they saw her black lips and ignited sabers.

She turned a corner, running into a security guard, his blaster raised. She flicked a force push at him, slamming him into a wall, his blaster hitting the floor. She did not slow her momentum though and as she passed him, she grabbed a fist full of hair and slammed his head against the wall.

 

[Laman Ress]

8/20
"Sir, we found some information you might be interested in." Said the tech people over the comms.

"What is it?" Laman replied.

"We were looking through the records, and it seems that there was somone here donating to the facilities gene bank, a female Trando, goes by the name.... uhhh... Sek Kali, im sending you her location now, we think she might have information on the operations here. Though it seems a bit odd the procedures they listed, so well keep digging to see what is really going on." The tech people said.

"Ill get right on it." Laman said back.

Laman starrted formulating a plan in his head, the cloning center entrance was a bit back in the opposite direction of the droid hordes advances, so it would not be an issue getting in, though he would need to extract this person to safety.

"Hey you, come with me we are going to go get this trandoshan." Laman said to [member="Kiro Masahide"]

"The rest of you stay here and guard the servers." He said to the rest.

Laman fell back towards the cloning center entrance, hopefully she was still there when he got there, or else this would be pointless. Once he arrived Laman kicked down the door into the cloning center, which was oddly unguarded, the reception for it was very clean and warm, it was comforting at least. He would start searching through the wing in order to locate the trandoshan, the place was empty, so it would make it much easier to find her.

[member="Sek Kali"]
[member="Gorenoth"]
[member="Delam Mairev"]

 

[Tyberius Fel]

War.

The familiar stench of rot and disemboweled corpses, blood curdled like milk coating every shining metal wall. Perhaps I should retire to Tatooine. Live out my life as some quiet moisture farmer. Aelius pondered to himself, as his force pike found itself buried into some sort of.. thing. A droid, a monster, a spice-dealer.. it mattered not. Continuing forth underneath a hail of explosions, screams and fire, the Royal Guard found himself covered in bruises, his armor dented and questioning his own sanity. To have everything yanked from him, then to have it held above his head in the form of Mephirium, appetizing, tantalizing -- and then? Yanked away again. Madness.
With a certain dullness, Aelius noted the hulking, fourth limb beast that was currently beating the.. (High Lord, was it?) into submission with raw strength. Pausing to yank his force pike out of another limp mish-mash of metal and electronics, his thumb slid along the activator, sending the electronic current into a sizzling maximum. The fallen Royal Guard rolled his shoulders, allowed the force to reinvigorated his weary muscles and then -- sprinted forward, boots splashing puddles of black oil and crimson blood as he rapidly manifested from the shadows of the war-marred facility. Silent as the death he brought, Aelius sent the butt of the force pike into the ground, allowing it to propel himself forward in the manner of a improvised pole vaulter.

Hurtling through the air, the grizzled Sovereign Protector delivered a falling leaf strike to the back of the beast.

[member="Gorenoth"]

 

[Sinistra]

5/20
Breehara

The place was starting to pick up, the bar get a little noisier as people waited here for a table in the restaurant, standing around and talking loudly. It didn't quite seem like the joint that Eralam would normally go for but she was running out of options and at the moment, casing every place in Breehara that carried Black Cask was a last resort. As she sipped the cocktail, three fingers neat, she noticed someone who looked eerily familiar at the end of the bar in conversation with a few businessmen.

She watched him for a moment, turning over where she might remember him, then turned her attention back to the HNN and the movements of bartender as he took orders and poured them out.

A bowl of spiced nuts sat in front of her and every once in a while, she would grab a couple, popping them in her mouth and chewing quietly.

A woman alone at a bar garnered attention though and every once in a while, some one would take a seat and ask to buy her a drink. A smile, a gentle hand on her theirs and a few words with a suggestion in them was usually all it took for them to find easier prey in this crowd. A glance to the familiar looking one again and she remembered.

A glint of recognition flashed in her eyes and she went back to her news cast and her whiskey.

[member="Raziel"]

 

[Placeholder 01]

9/20

[member="Gorenoth"], [member="Aelius Varangian"]

The concussion rifle was a bit of a bane to Delam's armor. Most small arms could not pierce it, but such a powerful weapon had little trouble doing so. The first shot caught him in the shoulder. It embedded itself deep within the slab of phrik and sheered its way across the High Lord's right shoulder, but he did not falter. The Shacklebolt reported its lack of ammunition with a quiet click as the second shot came his way. Dalem was quick, but not that quick. It caught him in the right leg, making the warrior stumble. It did not hit anything important, and the bullet was energy blast was particularly dulled by the layers of phrik, but Delam found himself kneeling all the same.

"Stubborn di'kut," Delam growled as he slowly rose to his feet. The Gorach was charging.

He went through a mental practice to try and ignore the pain wracking his body when he caught site of the former royal guard. The man and his cohorts had joined up with the legions fairly recently. He had not yet proved himself.

It seemed that was about to change.

The High Lord held his ground and slid a new magazine into his rifle. Would the Gorach manage his charge?