Invasion Kingdom Come: BotM Invasion of TSE Held Thule

Vesta · May 23, 2021

DEVIL'S SOULS

Thule

The Doomvault

Location: The Ziggurat of Hurom

Equipment: Lightsaber

Allies: The Sith Empire

Enemies: The Brotherhood of the Maw |

Kyrel Ren

"What a waste."

Scornful were the words she spat as she looked around at the lifeless world that had once housed so many - a population dashed against the stones like porcelain under the hunger of her megalomaniacal cousin. They shared views, certainly as any that walked absent of light might, but wholesale destruction for self-satisfaction devoid of a purpose beyond immediate pleasure was anathema to the core of her ideology. Thule was, and would likely forever remain, a haunted reminder of what waited for those that believed themselves above reason - madness. Though there was insanity lingering in the eyes of Darth Mori there was equally so a purpose for her hatred, for the use of the incredible might she'd gathered, been born into; that is what it was to be a Sith, to have power with purpose.

So many of these men and women had lost sight of the grand plan of the Sith - forsaken the eternal struggle so they could enjoy their idle fancies and act as kings, queens, and noble consorts. An empire erected on the struggles of a fledgling order and a brotherhood that had united together turned stagnant, fat on their own riches, eviscerated from every side by ravenous dogs that desired to rule what the bloated behemoth had amassed with far greater efficiency gained through the gift of hindsight. Here, now even, the Brotherhood of the Maw amassed a surge on this accursed planet - the very people that gave Vesta Zambrano the push she needed to pull herself from the despair she'd fallen into now acting on the urge to take from the Sith what should be earned only by their successors, of which the Maw was most certainly not.

She had heard of their supposed beliefs, of the mantra of thinning 'their' herd - of reducing the dark powers across the stars like some sort of ideological ethnic cleansing - to concentrate it. How Banite. 'No. If there is to be a successor then it will be the Sith, as it has always been.' Came the murmur of Mori's thoughts in the depths of her mind, referencing her own desires and the machinations already in play to ensure that the only beneficiary of a collapsing Empire would be its heir and the left-handed god that had granted them their window to sew the discord that they had spread so early in their meteoric rise. She wished she had known more of the Maw's power structure, to know who truly to target if she desired from them a momentary pause in their zealous march towards supplanting the Sith. Unfortunately opportunity was the mistress of the day, and it provided her with little more than the figure of a man that coincidentally approached her as she, him.

A hopeful looter of a ruined ziggurat, perhaps.

She looked him over, seeing the darkness permeating the air around him nearly in the same vein as it did around her - as though he submerged himself within its waves rather than clothed himself in it. A pillar of red ignited from the hilt of a lightsaber that the horned Sith Lord carried with her left hand, its fabled snap-hiss proceeding the illumination that helped elaborate the features of her face in this dimly-lit gloom.

"It is a pity that we've met here, dear enemy, my god desires the blood that you and yours will spill for him."

Kyrel Ren was opposite her, now, and likely recognized her no more than she him - that is to say that they'd never met, despite her mother having known him some distant time in the past. Fate was odd in that way, thrusting those linked so obscurely towards each other.

Her lips curled into a grin.

"Typhojem will be pleased."

Ingrid L'lerim · May 23, 2021

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group

Location: Enenpa, the Bloodwood
Objective III.: Finish the dance with Zachariel
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with:

Zachariel Steelblood

[ Solitude ]

When Zachariel arrived, the woman took back the necklace that had Adrian's soulshard in it. Now they were both here, no need to reveal her own presence anymore. They will no longer lose each other and it is possible that only one of them will leave here. Yes, the respect was mutual on the part of the woman as well, and Ingrid knew that the man felt the same way. They have explained this to each other before. From being an enemy, one can still have respect for the other. This was also the case here, and since they respected each other, Zachariel has since returned to polite speech instead of mockery.

"Yes, I experienced it, but I was the cause, I tore my own soul apart."

Although the physical part did not happen, the woman had died on the Byss earlier. She let Elpsis kill her. At Netherworld, she literally tore apart her own soul and left a part with Adrian. That's how she became part of the Netherworld. But the true break may have happened before, when Adrian died and their Force-bond ceased to exist. Since then, there has been the never-healing, ever-bleeding wound on her soul. The Empress shook her head.

"There are no gods, only powerful Force Users."

She replied, she thought so, as did her dead husband. If she had ever admitted that there were gods, she would also have had to admit that she might be a deity as well. Ingrid killed the sister of the Sith god and swallowed, absorbed her power, that entity changed her and made her what she was. Zachariel had already seen what she was. But the woman has been a part of Netherworld ever since, not just a semi-Force Entity.

As the man continued to speak, he said and showed what became of him, the contrast between the two only grew and grew. The man was devoured by chaos and madness, though she kept seeing her dead husband's hallucinations, but it helped keep her mind intact and sobriety. Chaos was present in the man, death in the woman. The man was part of the chaos, the woman was part of the Netherworld. They used to be very similar. But now? The two sides of the coin, they could not have been more different than this.

"I'm sorry, that this is the end, Mr. Steelblood, and also that it is unlikely that we will ever be on the same page again. Especially after Csilla. Maw is as bad as Bryn’adûl. Worse than any Jedi or Sith. If you accidentally survive today, I hope you get rid of the influence of chaos one day." she said genuinely.

Khaostra Devoid · May 23, 2021

Darth Solipsis |

Kyrel Ren
Enemies:

Arctus Silmar | Darth Mori |

Darth Strosius
Special Tags: N Nyxeris

The boots of Khaos touched down on the duracrete streets of Hurom. She slowly began to look around this nearly empty city of the sith on a planet that seemed void of all life. The emptiness was a strange feeling one that Khaos had only felt once before, a very long time ago. She stepped further into the streets looking to the giant ziggurat that loomed ahead. Maw forces where wildly scattering out from their ships. From a military perspective one would call this a cluster frak but in truth it was controlled chaos.

As She moved closer to the Ziggurat she felt the wave of fear ripple across the battlefield. It wasn’t something that came from the force it felt different. It was hard to explain to anyone who wasn’t experienced in Dathomiri Magick. It had a different taste you could say then the flow of the force did. It sent a shiver down Khaos’s spine as she felt but she had to wonder why?

The Sith would feed on fear embraces to make themselves stronger and most of the Maw forces outside that where doom cultists that sought the end of everything so had little fear in their hearts. Khaos herself could have been more greatly affected by it had she not cast spell of protection upon herself figuring she would be bombarded by sith sorcerery upon landing. Her hands began to move in and patterns drawing symbols in the air as a red aura of magick energies began to flow around her.

A red orb began form and move forward; the orb was harmless part of the spell of seeking. It moved forward seeking out the witch that had cast the spell of fear. Though Khaos was here for relics and artifacts more then the Maw’s war she decided she would take a moment of her time to teach a fellow sister a lesson. She began to follow the red orb as it would lead her to N Nyxeris

As she followed, she pulled her sabers free from her belt and ignited them into a blades of white energy. Soldiers came at her as she kept an eye on the red orb and neared her target. She easily cut through a couple e of them before her orange glowing eyes made contact with the nightsister from about fifty yards away.

“Those who fear death will never achieve pure power!” She screamed in defiance as some of the maw Horde that had been under her command formed up and began charging forward and cut down Sith forces all around Khaos. The harmless Red orb of seeking floated just above Nyxeris head marking her as a target. Khaos herself moved among the horde she commanded as they started slaughtering sith forces trying to make a clear path to the other sister of the night.

Arctus Silmar · May 23, 2021

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian || Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

As the battle around the Great Ziggurat began in true earnest The Shaper gazed down upon the battlefield with the impassive, calculating expression of one who was far too comfortable in the clamor, death and defilement of war and bloodshed. His will moving, unseen and unimpeded amongst even the underequipped and desperate soldiers present on Thule. Spurring them on and guiding them with his sight over the battlefield even as they fought, bled and died for their Empire. Even as he, still bearing the effects of his efforts on Vjun, felt every life snuffed out around him. Every cord and thread binding them to their Emperor as he directed them snapping in twain like a curled, dead root.

Of those closest to his position they were directed away from the approach of

Darth Solipsis and did not attempt to interfere with his encroachment on The Shaper. From what the Empire's New Emperor knew of this so-called 'Dark Lord' he was at least confident they would avoid the trappings of weaklings and charlatans, of the meek and pitiful, and would seek death openly as The Shaper would provide it in turn. Thus he was spared recompense for the steps he took up the Great Ziggurat. Only those that attempted to follow him made to a pay a toll in blood for each step they took. While The Shaper's silver, steel-like eyes watched the façade of the old, feeble wizard move step by step up the ziggurat. Turning to await his guest properly, The Shaper would return to the make-shift throne he had constructed from the stone of the ziggurat and command it back down into the structure with a wave of his hand and a low, sorcerous intonation upon his lips. Turning about to face Solipsis with Acharn hovering close, Urfael in hand, and Whilstones dimly flickering upon his brow.

Raising a hand slowly to his mouth The Shaper would wipe away the trail of blood found there, obsidian locks whipping violently in the wind about him as his connection to his troops faded. Curling inward to his personal self as he began to approach and stand a few meters from his opponent. A dark nimbus of crackling, profound energy beginning to gather about the two masters of the Dark Side from their mere proximity to one-another. The rays of light of Thule's very star dying and sputtering in their descent to it's surface as The Shaper stated firmly. "You may drop whatever pretense you wish to present, or deception that springs to mind." Glowering, explosive black flames rimmed with pallid white would lap along the length of The Shaper's blade as his expression hardened. His eyes narrowing upon the man as he stated "There is, perhaps, a language we share more what our words can convey. So.... come. Test yourself against what it is to be Sith."

With a swipe of Urfael down into the stone flesh of the ziggurat that pierced the stone with little effort would The Shaper unveil his power before Solipsis. The False Light of the Whilstones melting away to reveal three small gouts of black flame that arced from his brow like a halo of umbral majesty. The air of Thule twisting and arcing with pallid purple/black lightning. Each and every adherent of the Dark Side nearby, from

Darth Strosius to N Nyxeris and

Khaostra Devoid and further still to

Zachariel Steelblood would feel the weight of the dark clouds upon Thule deepen to yawning voids. The clouds themselves beginning to spouts gouts of dark, malevolent fire. Reality wailing in anguish as an ancient, unfettered darkness strained against it's bindings. Even now, even wounded in both body and spirit, The Shaper present naught but a timeless, primordial expression of the Sith to Solipsis. The air atop the ziggurat being whipped up into a gale of stinging rubble and refuse, howling in a near chorus of ethereal moans of anguish carried upon the wind.

His left hand beginning to curl would The Shaper's voice carry to Solipsis without his mouth having to move. "Come then, if you would name yourself Dark Lord. Try your will against one who was the first to deny the Light. Who stood in the presence of Ajunta Pall and did not quaver or shrink away. Who named himself Shaper of the Sith even in the presence of those who would carve the destiny of the Sith for the rest of time." Behind the Shaper the Force would yawn into a dark, burning eye, himself at it's center that seemed to spill into a gaping abyss. The Shaper's body turning ever so slightly to present his left side as the spear Acharn tilted in the air toward Solipsis. The Shaper extending his left hand toward the Dark Voice with a simple command. "Come, and survive."

An expulsion of the Force in a concentrated blast would rip out from The Shaper's hand toward Solipsis. A potent and masterful combination of raw, telekinetic fury and a raw expression of the Dark Side too large to be contained to the simple form of spear. The ancient stone of the ziggurat being ripped away, destroyed, carved away in a span between seconds and that which was not in the direct path of destruction was flung into the torrential wind whipping about the two of them. Kicking a thick cloud of debris into the air between the two of them. The very air becoming thickly saturated with the Dark Side as The Shaper's eyes glowering with burning, crimson energy. Only after the attack had been launched completely did The Shaper then hurl Acharn in it's wake, following up the attack without warning, prelude or mercy should Solipsis survive. This was not a game, not a matter of war of watcing soldiers die for their causes, this was what it meant to be Sith.

[/spoiler]

Darth Strosius · May 23, 2021

Objective: Protect the Ziggurat from Defilers
Location: The defenses of the Great Ziggurat of Hurom
Equipment: Lightsaber
Allies: TSE
Enemies: BotM
Tags: N Nyxeris /

Khaostra Devoid /

Arctus Silmar
~~-------------------------------------------~~

It didn't take very long at all for chit to hit the fan, evidently. One minute they were still waiting for the first signs of their enemy other than a single shuttle, and the next nearly all defensive fronts were alight with combat. Not only that, but something had changed in the air. Alisteri had been brought to his knees as he rushed to get to a frontline to help fight back, the presence of someone or something in the Force becoming suffocating. Well, it was suffocating to him at least.

Even the very clouds of the planet seemed to now be seething with some sort of power.

All around him the swirling Force seemed to constrict and tense in a way that he had never felt before. The Dark Side was strong on this planet of course, but whatever was happening now was putting it to shame. He shook off the headache, as well as the offer of assistance from a concerned Legionnaire, and did his best to try and close his senses for the moment. His power with the Force was miniscule, no comparison needed, so keeping his mind open to its flow would only distract him further.

He couldn't stop whatever it was that was about to happen, or even happening now as he could vaguely sense power being thrown around, but he could still wield his lightsaber and stand with the defenders. The Acolyte didn't even bother to question why defenders were being pulled back from one of the entrances, one that seemingly faced the direction of the first downed shuttle, as he made his way to the nearest source of fighting.

Let the more powerful Sith and the pretenders of the Maw duke it out amongst themselves, he had no place interfering there.

He had armies of madmen and lunatics to cut down, a task that he would enjoy greatly. The Legionnaires held the line valiantly against the tides of the Maw, Alisteri wasting no time in rushing in to help beat back the warriors that had gotten too close to the defensive line. They kept coming, in numbers larger than expected, but it was no matter.

The Acolyte and the Legionnaires were ordered to hold the ziggurat, and that was what they would do.

No matter how many roving heretics must be cut down.

Lady Marrow · May 23, 2021

Tag:

Tegan Starfall /

The Mongrel
Equipment: The Marrow Blade

The Good Lady hadn't been having a good time, moving from one battlefield to another, she had become tired, her whimsy dry... until she was put into the heart of the forest of a foreign world. There were lumber mills that were harvesting these trees and materials which would be put to use for her Sith friends. The weight of wars that had compounded onto her shoulders had put a weight upon her she hadn't noticed, but here... here she had a feeling like home. But as the hordes came crashing through rampaging cavalry thundering through these woods, she would, naively look for the Marrow that would rise to defend their grounds... Only none would come.

Where was this forests, no, this gardens' defender? This wild expanse of magnanimous beauty and natural power flowed outwards, she could feel the roots interconnecting with one another. A silent eternal handshake, a partnership between then beings here that could last hundreds of years should they be let be. Sapling trees peppered these forests as it seemed the stripping effort was such that it was cyclical, smart, the Sith had hired those who had known what they were doing, and the soil here seemed fertile. But as they stormed into the open compound of the military mill. Raw materials and wood laying about everywhere. And as always, the ever-present root structures that wove through the place. Standing at the edge of the compound, Lady Marrow touching one of the gigantic living oaks from the outside would flow her mastery of this force power through the interconnecting tendrils which lay beneath their feet.

The enemies' eyes were up, firing explosives and upon those who lived there. "You're invading this forest... If there is no Marrow to guard this garden... I'll rise to the occasion! GET OUT!" She would cry out, her voice seeming to echo from the wood intermingled with the deep booming bass from their explosives. As the first of the colossal roots would rend itself from the earth, thorns the lengths of scythes coiling from their edges as it would take a sweep across the blood-sworn that had stormed into the area. Lady Marrow would raise another such root in order to take another sweep. A smaller structure would seek to drag one of their large war-beasts underground as she would begin to wreak havoc, if not tearing into them as the woods would seem to awaken beneath their feet.

It used a lot of energy to wield plants in the same manner that she could use her garden, but it was effective, and they had clustered into a perfect little box for her. Here, amidst nature in every direction, she wasn't an innocent creature that was playing games, not understanding the complexities of the political world outside her garden. Here, everything was simply laid out before her, there were invaders in her garden, seeking to do it harm, and she would annihilate them!

Left undisturbed, her senses flowing through the trees would give her something akin to true sight over her arena. The smokescreen that their leaders had called for hiding the nature of her assault. She would attempt to search for a leader among them, someone shouting orders or seemingly more skillful than those that surrounded them. But it was difficult from this distance, she couldn't see. So, pressing a button to a communicator she had been given she would span her sight outwards across the battle, the forest was her eyes.

"Apologies for being late, I have eyes through the forest, if anyone needs me to point out targets, let me know!"

UX-0626 · May 24, 2021

Location: Industrial Depot - Enenpa
Allies: TSE (

Lady Marrow ) │ EE
Enemies: BotM (

The Mongrel

Tegan Starfall )
Direct Opposition:

The Mongrel

The sharp crack of her rifle demanded attention, but UX-0626 did not yet retreat, even as the Bloodsworn began to charge through the gaps created by what was left of the massive Bograranths. Once, twice, then a third and final squeeze of the trigger saw four of the savage raiders felled, with her last round punching through the skull of one marauder, before continuing on into the chest of another right behind him as unintentional, albeit welcome collateral. Unfortunately, by then, her luck was running thin. Her crosshairs swept over one last marauder, though he found her as well, firing a high-explosive grenade from an underbarrel launcher towards her perch, just as she squeezed the trigger to send a 20mm round ripping through his armored chest.

Unfortunately, all she could do to avoid the incoming grenade was duck.

The massive rifle clattered to the ground as she threw herself behind the barrier, dropping to the floor in a prone position on top of her disruptor rifle, seeking to minimize the impact of the incoming explosion on her person, as much as possible.

Then, it hit.

The explosion went off, showering hot metal shrapnel over her armored form, while also warping the barrier she was behind. Fortunately, her position and armor spared her from the bulk of the damage, though the anti-materiel rifle was mangled beyond usability.

Nevertheless, without delay, UX-0626 pushed herself back up, taking up her disruptor rifle as she did, before descending down from the tower via her armor’s integrated repulsor pack, another explosion going off in her wake. All around her, there was chaos as the Legionnaires, security forces, and crimson-armored Kainate troops entered close-quarters combat with the charging Bloodsworn, fiery war cries in the Sith tongue on their lips. With few vehicles or heavy weapons to counter the charging beasts, the massive creatures ran roughshod over the defenders, forcing them to focus fire on the creatures in an effort to overwhelm their thick hides, while others took shots at the riders.

“626! Get on the gun! Wh-” Her commander, UX-0005 screamed out over the din of violence. However, a single gesture from the sniper towards the tower cut off his words, telling him all he needed to know.

Just then, the terrible roar of a charging Bogaranth interrupted the exchange, the beast’s acid slime eating through a number of Legionnaires less than fifteen meters ahead. Thinking quickly, UX-0626 activated her repulsor pack, letting it carry her form up and out of the beast’s path, while her commander deployed his armor’s micro thrusters for a quick burst of lateral movement, thereby accomplishing the same.

However, even in the air, UX-0626 did not remain idle. While her commander fired a pair of proton torpedoes from his rifle’s underslung projectile launcher at the rampaging Bogaranth’s side, UX-0626 struck from above, her disruptor rifle cracking out out a pair of bolts as the beast passed five meters beneath her position, both aimed to strike the rider.

"Taral" Sith Trooper Armor - Designation: UX-0626
- Undersuit
  - UL-14 “Virtus” Class Underlay
- Left Wrist
  - ACS-207 CryoBan Gun
  - Vac Attack Mk-127 Disc Launcher
  - Universal Gas Launcher
    - Pink Vapor
- Right Wrist
  - Wide Beam Sonic Stunner
  - Dur-24 Wrist Laser
  - Universal Gas Launcher
    - Nagnol Gas
- Energy Shield
  - Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
- Boots
  - Whimsy Knife
~~Hekler’Kok HAMR-01~~ ~~- Temporary Battle Pickup~~
X8-H “Endgame” Elite Disruptor Rifle
FAE/M-01 “Scherezade” Energized Vibroblade (2)
Impact Grenade (2)

Kyrel Ren · May 24, 2021

Location: Thule, Outside of the Ziggurat
Allies: BOTM,

Darth Solipsis
Enemies: TSE, Darth Mori
Equipment: Vader's Bane Lightsaber, Kyrel's Necrochasis, Kyrel's Armor

The armies marched, and those that tried to land met difficulty. Those trying to get closer to the vaults for the Master of Ren met resistance against what defenses remained. Be it enemy gun emplacements, or the Sith Troopers that had fought just as hard against the raiders of the Maw. Even when being shot down, the Maw brothers and sisters gladly embraced death. Some even tried outlandish tactics taking grenades and jumping down the landing craft. Throwing the grenades before engaging in vicious hand to hand combat against such a foe already used to war, but not like the barbaric tactics of the Maw's loyal converts.

But even with such might, no matter what tactics the Maw raiders could try, the Sith drew a line. Even caught in a stalemate, the Maw had started to adapt to Sith strategy, as for the warriors of the Unknown Regions. Those that have seen combat conquering nearby territory, and during the Csilla Cataclysm they started to form a few trenches around the outer parts of Hurom. Attempting to slowly chip and break at enemy lines. This was only to buy time while more raiders came, some in stolen Alliance and Imperial armor. Some with enslaved war beasts, creatures gained from the recent conquests of the Western Reaches, and others some unlike the Sith have seen. Some were massive as Kashyyyk trees and fierce as rancors. Even as many fell they would not stop until the Sith tired, for it was the will of the Heathen Priests to destroy the Sith.

Kyrel kept his advance, and each step that was given was filled with promise and dread. The soldiers marching behind him did not know. But Kyrel felt it within the darkness. It was like every step was pulling him down, the air in the Force felt something awful. Something perhaps what he would only describe as what it was close to being an undead corpse. Except this was that times ten. Something revolting. As if the absence of life, of anything had made the Force feel... empty? No, perhaps an echo of sorts, and yet distorted as if one were to call out, and expect the vibrations to react differently to this hollow world. As if something not entirely right, and yet he still pressed on, the dark power coming out was like a candle amidst a blizzard, and the only refuge to what madness this world was.

That was when he senses had perked up, and what he saw was a monster just as him? It was no monster, but a woman, a horned woman as if she herself was a devil. Yet something bursting with darkness that made his feral instincts ignite. The words were spoken in his mind, the sound of his makers echo. 'Kill, Devour, Destroy!' It had intensified as he stared at her, a red blade ignited from her saber. His own blade, Vader's Bane ignited with a sharp hiss, the blood shine blade emerging, and immediately began feasting from his body, taking all of his darkness, but giving it in return, amplifying his rage. His eyes the only piece of his flesh visible, stared into her eyes.

When she spoke of her Gods demanding blood, he fired back raising his blade ready to make his move. "False idols in the eyes of the Avatars... I have seen hell Sith, and do not fear.... You should fear me." With such words he immediately went in for the strike, unlike someone alive, and the experiment that was his body, it made his movements, his reflexes faster than someone alive, with a feral growl he had moved and raised his saber, aiming to slice her in two, wishing to see what a Sith would do? Block his attacks? Dodge him? The thrill of the kill was all that mattered, and all that drove him was the desire to consume her flesh and sate his unending appetite.

The Mongrel · May 24, 2021

Objective III - Resource Raid

Location: Enenpa, Industrial Depot
Allies: BOTM | Open
Foes: TSE |

UX-0626 |

Lady Marrow

The tides of war were fickle indeed, The Mongrel reflected, advancing through the madness. Not so long ago, on Csilla, the crimson-armored soldiers of the Kainate had been among the few who had stood beside them, battling the Chiss and Galidraani forces. Now they clashed with the Bloodsworn instead, their advanced technology and unbreakable discipline matched against the savagery and fanaticism of the raiders. It was a stark reminder to the lords of the Sith that the Brotherhood was not so much a weapon to be wielded as a raging fire, eventually consuming all that it came into contact with. It might burn your enemies today, but tomorrow...

Tomorrow it would burn you instead.

In spite of the early casualties due to sniper fire, the bogaranths had been just as devastating as the veteran marauder had hoped. On the open battlefield, pitted against tanks, artillery, and fortified heavy weapon positions, they would never have made it far enough to attack; against a mere resource depot, with few of those hard counters in its arsenal, they had proven to be a perfect spearhead. That was fortunate, because the raiding party did not have an alternative: no tanks, no big guns, just beasts and the wrath of men. With the shipyards at Osseriton consuming all available resources in a desperate attempt to rebuild, there was nothing else available.

It was good that they were making speedy progress, too, because there was no telling how soon the Empire would be able to mobilize a crushing response. The Mongrel and his raiders were far indeed from home, and near the Sith - NIO warfront. If a single defense fleet fell back from the NIO frontier to intercept them, they were in deep, deep poodoo. Hopefully the jamming and blockade efforts on Sivvi were going well, because if they didn't, the Bloodsworn would soon find themselves hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned. As always, speed was their greatest weapon. "Get to the landing pads!" The Mongrel ordered, checking his chrono with a frown.

He wanted to be in and out within an hour.

Advancing forward, the marauder warleader raised his scattergun to his shoulder and opened fire. The pellets skidded off the armor of a Kainate soldier, spinning him around with the impact to his shoulder but not breaching his defenses. The Mongrel dropped his gun, letting it dangle from his shoulder strap, and drew one of his many hidden vibroknives. Grabbing the stunned soldier by the upper arm, the marauder sank his knife into the Sith-Imperial's neck joint, then ripped it free in a spray of arterial blood. A pair of security officers charged toward him, blasters blazing... so he wrapped an arm around the Kainate trooper's spurting throat and held him up.

Blaster bolts pinged off the crimson armor; The Mongrel could feel the heat of them singeing his arm hair. Stowing the knife - he would have to remember to remove and clean it later, or the dried blood would ruin the sheath and corrode the blade - he drew a heavy blaster pistol in the same hand. Turning his body so that he could continue to use the dying trooper as a human shield, he let fly with his pistol. It was hard to aim while also holding up an armored man's full weight, and several of his shots went wide, pinging off crates or the depot's exterior... but then he found his range and his balance, and his next pair of shots dropped both security officers mid-stride.

The fighting at the outer edge of the depot was fierce indeed; The Mongrel had not expected it to be quite this heavily-defended. Security forces he had foreseen, and he'd considered the possibility that they'd face a legionary patrol, or even a garrison... but the Kainate troopers were an unpleasant surprise. At least they seemed to have taken out that accursed sniper when they'd blown the guard towers. Two bogaranths and half a dozen charging marauders was a frustratingly high death toll, and an uneven trade to take out a single soldier. Still, they were making progress, gradually pushing back the defenders with the weight of the bogaranths.

That was when the enemy took flight, literally.

Before The Mongrel's stunned eyes, a pair of Legion troopers suddenly soared through the air, each carried by some kind of jetpack. They evaded a lumbering bogaranth, twisting out of the way of the caustic slime that had consumed half a dozen of their fellows, and then twisted and maneuvered in midair to attack. One of them fired a pair of disruptor shots at the rider; they punched through him with ease, leaving only drifting ash behind. The other fired what the stunned Mongrel could only assume were something close to starfighter-grade proton torpedoes... because they ripped through the towering bogaranth like a ronto stepping on a worrt.

The perimeter of the depot was suddenly bathed in blood. Flaming chunks of fat and muscle, the remains of thoroughly-exploded megabeast, splattered against the walls of the warehouses... or fell like huge raindrops, flopping down onto the duracrete roadway with little wet squelching sounds. The Mongrel blinked and spat, trying to clear his vision and rid himself of the sudden taste of raw bogaranth. He was covered head to toe in gore, dripping slowly from his elbows, his chin, and the bridge of his nose. A fragment of bone, propelled by the blast, had lodged itself in his chest plate, and he was suddenly very glad for the armor.

The other bogaranths, enraged and fearful, went even more wild. They bucked their handlers' control and plunged further into the depot, throwing soldiers aside with every shake of their titanic, mandibled heads. That left the Bloodsworn on their own, struggling to advance in the wake of the sudden shock. For his part, The Mongrel had no intention of letting the third creature's death go unavenged; he had to respect the skill of these Sith-Imperial elites, but that only meant that they needed to die quickly... and that killing them would earn them glory. Remembering the trick he'd used against that Jedi on Csilla, he pulled out his monofilament launcher.

Taking aim at the jetpack trooper who had fired the torpedoes, The Mongrel pulled the trigger, trying to strike him - or his repulsor pack - with the magnetized, unearthly-sharp wire. If the marauder succeeded in piercing his target's leg or attaching to the pack, he would then heave downward with all his might, trying to tug his foe out of the sky.

UX-0626 · May 24, 2021

Location: Industrial Depot - Enenpa
Allies: TSE (

Lady Marrow ) │ EE
Enemies: BotM (

The Mongrel

Tegan Starfall )
Direct Opposition:

The Mongrel

Neither she nor her commander had expected such explosive results from their combined attacks on the charging beast.

Blood, viscera, and flaming chunks of flesh went everywhere as the two miniaturized proton torpedoes connected with their target, manifesting a powerful shockwave upon impact that threw her commander back and knocked UX-0626 off-balance, sending her careening down to the ground. Fortunately, her armor could protect her from such falls, but it could only do so much to stave off the shock of impact, especially as her head collided with the ground, knocking her brain around inside her skull as her disruptor rifle clattered down a few meters out of reach.

The familiar, yet nevertheless aching sensation of a concussion hit her as she moved to pick herself up from the ground, her world swirling before her eyes in the process. As had happened to her on Panatha, Krayiss Two, and Helgard, was now happening here, to which UX-0626 began to wonder, even in her addled state, when all the concussions and head injuries would begin to catch up to her. She had known almost nothing but violence and fervent devotion to her Eternal Father since she emerged from her exowomb on Malsheem, destined to lead a life of service and sacrifice to his Eclipsing Mission. Only now, her body seemed on the precipice, having reached the point where each injury was worse than the last.

And yet, her faith remained unshaken.

Her initial attempt to pick herself up had been futile, as the sniper lost her balance once more, causing her to collapse back to the ground. Nevertheless, she gave a deep breath, then tried again, finally finding something resembling balance, albeit too late.

A screaming marauder armed with a vibroblade came at her from behind, the thrumming edge slashing through her back plate and piercing the soft flesh along her torso, though failing to outright incapacitate her, if not owing to the protection of her armor. Another swing caught her chest plate, splitting the gammaplast in twain and painfully lancing across her bosom.

His next strike came only a split-second later, but UX-0626 had recovered by then, managing to evade the attack before pulling out both of her vibroblades and moving in for a vicious counter. Shifting her body in a feint, UX-0626 then pulled her blades and drove them into the marauder’s stomach, before pulling out one and cutting off his head in a finishing blow.

Sweat pouring forth from her brow as a series of deep breaths escaped from her lips, there right before her was the Mongrel, standing over the body of her commander.

"Taral" Sith Trooper Armor - Designation: UX-0626
- Undersuit
  - UL-14 “Virtus” Class Underlay
- Left Wrist
  - ACS-207 CryoBan Gun
  - Vac Attack Mk-127 Disc Launcher
  - Universal Gas Launcher
    - Pink Vapor
- Right Wrist
  - Wide Beam Sonic Stunner
  - Dur-24 Wrist Laser
  - Universal Gas Launcher
    - Nagnol Gas
- Energy Shield
  - Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
- Boots
  - Whimsy Knife
~~Hekler’Kok HAMR-01~~ ~~- Temporary Battle Pickup~~
X8-H “Endgame” Elite Disruptor Rifle
FAE/M-01 “Scherezade” Energized Vibroblade (2)
Impact Grenade (2)

UX-0626 drops her Disruptor Rifle upon Landing. The rifle lands between UX-0626 and the Mongrel and is still operational.
Picks herself up from the ground and is attacked by a marauder, but manages to kill him
After the Mongrel kills UX-0005, UX-0626 faces him. Rough distance of ~7 Meters between the two Combatants. The disruptor rifle is between them.

The Mongrel · May 24, 2021

Objective III - Resource Raid

Location: Enenpa, Industrial Depot
Allies: BOTM | Open
Foes: TSE |

UX-0626 |

Lady Marrow

The improvised attack went even better than The Mongrel had hoped. His target, the elite jet trooper who had blown apart the bogaranth, was sent reeling by the explosion, as was his comrade with the disruptor. While she careened to the ground, he was knocked off-balance midair... making him an easy target for the monofilament launcher. The razor-sharp wire ripped into the trooper's leg, its single-molecule point easily penetrating his armored shin and bursting out the other side. The Mongrel grinned savagely, then dug in his heels. He set the launcher to reel in his target, and then he leaned on it with his full weight, dragging the trooper down.

Meter by meter, hand over hand, The Mongrel hauled in the Sith soldier like a fisherman wrangling his catch. The repulsor pack whined and fought, but with its pilot off-balance, it couldn't stabilize or recover altitude. When he was close enough to get off a clean shot, the veteran marauder raised his heavy blaster one-handed, took aim, and fired. The shot tore through the repulsor pack, and the elite trooper dropped the last couple of meters to the duracrete roadway, landing hard. The Mongrel pounced on that disadvantage. He didn't hesitate, didn't gloat, didn't try to take trophies... he just closed in on his prone enemy.

Working quickly, The Mongrel rushed the fallen trooper and planted a booted foot on his neck, holding him down. Then he fired his heavy blaster at him, point blank, shooting him twice in the back. The man's body jerked with each shot, then lay still. Maybe that fancy armor of his had enabled him to survive, if he got medical treatment soon... but he was definitely out of the fight, probably crippled by his spinal injuries, and more than likely dead. That was one down; time to end the other before she could do more damage. The marauder's cold eyes locked onto her, less than ten meters away and already back in the fight.

His foe had recovered from her dramatic fall relatively quickly, and had already dispatched one of his raiders; The Mongrel snarled as the Bloodsworn warrior's headless corpse hit the ground, his guts spilled around his knees. She was good with a blade, a worthy challenge; perhaps he would take one of those vibroswords as a trophy once she was dead. She was already injured, though, so perhaps the fight that followed would not be memorable enough to make such a blade a worthy bit of loot. He was relatively fresh, uninjured thus far and with most of his tricks yet unspent; she had taken a knock to the head and a slash to the back, both serious wounds.

This would an easy mercy-killing, like smothering a hospital patient.

Then his eyes fell on something that could put the odds back in her favor: her fallen disruptor rifle, that deadly weapon that had turned his lead rider to ash. Now that would be a trophy worth taking, both useful and impressive. The Mongrel stepped forward, eyes locked on his enemy, daring her to race him for it... and to let the loser of that race suffer the disintegration gun's dire effects. This was where he felt most alive: in the struggle against a worthy foe, in the moments where he could die or rise to greater glory, that was when he best served the Avatars. With a dark little chuckle of gleeful excitement, he charged forward, trying to reach the rifle.

... only to be thrown from his feet as the ground exploded beneath him.

At first, The Mongrel thought someone had launched another of those miniaturized proton torpedoes, blowing up part of the depot's loading dock in some kind of scorched-earth denial tactic. As he looked around, however, he found that the truth was far stranger. Giant tree roots, their rough surfaces covered in scything thorns, had erupted from the ground all across the depot. They crushed the duracrete to dust and wrapped screaming raiders in their barbed embrace, piercing and crushing them. As the marauder watched, several of the giant plants wrapped around one of the remaining bogaranths... and dragged the roaring beast beneath the earth.

And then there were two.

Gasping for breath, The Mongrel struggled to rise; the sudden fall had knocked the wind out of him. Nor was that his only injury. Barbed thorns had drawn long, angry red lines across his face and arms, even scraping jagged streaks across his chestplate - though thankfully they hadn't managed to punch through it. Looking down, he found a nine-inch thorn stuck all the way through the palm of his left hand. The warleader howled in pain and rage, then gritted his jagged teeth, stifling the sound. Grabbing the base of the thorn firmly with his right hand - it was empty, his blaster having flown from his grip in the confusion - he braced his elbow between his knees.

Then he pulled, tugging it free in a spray of blood.

Another howl tore through him as he cast the huge barb aside; his hand was bleeding profusely, and his fingers refused to respond. Reaching into his satchel, he produced a nysillin-soaked bandage and wrapped it quickly around the terrible wound; thank the Avatars for the fruits of the raid on Felucia. That was all the time he had to deal with his own injuries; around him, the whole assault was faltering, with the Bloodsworn forced back by the sudden emergence of the deadly plants. He had to take control of the situation. "Fire!" he bellowed, his commanding tones reaching every corner of the depot despite the chaos. "Use the firebombs now! Use them all!"

The Bloodsworn had planned to burn the warehouses they did not have time or cargo space to loot, much as they had done on Felucia... but it seemed that there was a more pressing use for their incendiaries. The marauders started throwing their flame grenades at the writhing thorns, trying to force them back with the sudden heat. Hopefully they burned like normal plants; they certainly didn't behave like them. With the command given and the battle hopefully getting a little less suddenly one-sided, The Mongrel whirled on the spot, trying to find the disruptor trooper again. He had to neutralize her before he could find out what was going on, or she'd stop him from finding whatever Force-mage had conjured up this abomination.

By the Three, he hated fighting against magic.

His scattergun, held to his body by the shoulder strap, still remained close at hand. It would be difficult to fire one-handed; the recoil might well dislocate his arm if he pulled the trigger from the wrong angle. But the beauty of a scattergun was that you didn't have to have great aim to kill someone. Stalking forward, The Mongrel scanned the battle, blowing away a pair of facility guards who tried to rush him; the strap strained and his shoulder wrenched each time, but neither gave out... at least, not yet. He kept searching, trying his best to find the remaining Sith elite, her fallen disruptor rifle... or both.

Darth Solipsis · May 24, 2021

THE DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW

xxxThulexxx
“The Doomvault”

The Brotherhood of the Maw's forces began to drop from orbit, moving to engage the enemy gathered on the desolate world of Thule. The sky would light up as flowers of light and plums of smoke began to dot the sky as would flickers of plasma and laser dance along the horizon. It wasn't long now, he would reach the summit of the stronghold itself, a towering structure built as a testament to the power of the Sith and omnipresent influence of the Dark Side of the Force. A great ziggurat at the heart of the fortress-city of Hurom and at it's peak his foe awaiting him, a name he had only known of as of late from rumor and here say.

He continued his ascent unchallenged, his eyes flickering away only ever so briefly from his hobbling trek to the peak as a lone MAW dropship came into eyesight, streaking across the sky in a downward spiral toward the ground below in an encompassing inferno. The Sith Empire had caught onto their arrival, aided by munitions left behind from the Emperor Emeritus's unholy hunger that devoured the original populace of this long abandoned world. The Sith Imperial war machine seemed to be underequipped as the Brotherhood had been, this was good news to be had. After the near pyrrhic victory over Csilla against half of the galaxy arrayed in defense of the Chiss, the Maw had to adapt new tactics for survival.

Victory for the Brotherhood would hinge on the strategic objectives placed throughout the sector, they were underdogs fighting the fierce Sith-Imperial war machine with nothing but strategy and the Dark Side at their back. Locked in a slugfest with one another as the crazed, brutal, and unforgiving marauders of lashed out against their enemy. The Dark Voice and his advisors had planned this assault with the utmost care and precision, a victory here assuring them of a bountiful plunder from those who would squander it in complacency as had occurred for years. The Mandate of Bogan had passed, no longer were the Sith-Imperials the chosen vessels of the Dark Side. A new age was dawning and the Brotherhood would usher in a wave of violence made manifest across the galaxy and drown all those who would touch upon the light in an orgy of blood.

His fiery gaze lingered as the vessel fell beyond his sight, within the backdrop of Hurom. The Elder shifted his step and faced away once more, progressing onward as he felt the summit of the temple light up with activity through the Force likely from his opponent. He could feel the eyes of those around him, waiting in the shadows at their master's beck and call. The Sith Master had come alone from the wreckage, the enemy would find no backup or bodyguards in tow, he needed none. As he finally came upon the final steps reaching the summit his terrible glare fell upon that of the Shaper himself as his throne came undone at his own hand. The Dark Lord's walking stick came down with a heavy hand as his movement to a screeching halt mere meters from his foe as he approached himself.

"You may drop whatever pretense you wish to present, or deception that springs to mind."

Ripples of black flame rimmed the weapon of the enemy, this new Sith Emperor before him as his eyes narrowed. The Dark Lord of the Sith greeted the Emperor with a warm smile filled with dark grimace beneath the surface, a wicked gaze that spoke a thousand words as the consumptive void that was his aura clashed with the dark gale that was the Shaper's.

"There is, perhaps, a language we share more what our words can convey. So.. come. Test yourself against what it is to be Sith."

A slight chuckle escaped his lips, the Dark Lord's sulfuric eyes burned into the flesh of his opponent as hatred personified, contempt kept bubbling beneath the surface hidden behind the warm veneer of amusement. It was not his words but his very presence, the ideals he stood for that prodded at the Dark Lord's patience.

"You discern a distorted reality, there will be no test, no tempering of wills upon this sacred foundation. You will fall."

A lone rigor mortis claw rose to his waist, grasping at the void in a clenched form.

"You miss the point of it all. You place limits upon those around you with the outdated concept of empire, you command hordes of lessers with the pretense of power that you do not have, the Sith are so much more than this. An individual may die but the Sith are eternal. Fight, die, run, or hide. It does not matter to me what you or your doppelganger in the Sith Eternal does."

His hand clenched tightly into a fist and his warm smile twisted into a sinister grin.

"You are beneath me, all powerful one."

And so as all others had done before him, the Sith Emperor would too attempt to showcase his power before the Dark Lord of the Sith. Melting away the light from his whilstones to reveal three black gouts of flame that formed a halo around his brow. The already fierce lightning flashed in a display of purple and black flashes before the duo, illuminating the battlefield before them at the very summit of the Sith Temple. In dark grandiose displays of power, the clouds ignited in strange gouts of malevolent dark flames. Solipsis pondered on the unnecessary strain and what purpose such an act held in store within the mind of the Shaper. The invasion would continue unimpeded and uninterrupted as the Brotherhood of the Mawand the Sith Empire clashed around them.

The Sith Master merely removed his black robes from his body, leaving his torso exposed with his Sith Talisman hanging from around his neck. The Dark Lord disposed of his robes and cast them aside on the stone of the temple. A vile gale howled and nipped at their features as twin titans stood before the apex of this mighty showdown.

“Come then, if you would name yourself Dark Lord. Try your will against one who was the first to deny the Light. Who stood in the presence of Ajunta Pall and did not quaver or shrink away. Who named himself Shaper of the Sith even in the presence of those who would carve the destiny of the Sith for the rest of time.”

“Interesting. So be it.”

The rocks and rubble beneath their feet along the stone surface of the summit would rattle forth as a storm brewed, a whirlwind that slowly crept forth crackling with small sparks of inconceivable malice made manifest. The Dark Side of the Force poured out of his being, building upon itself in a tempest of swirling miasma and concentrated power. His opponent, the Shaper would form a great eye in his wake, the Dark Lord merely let loose a storm that already was brewing in a longing desire to be let loose.

The Shaper's body turning ever so slightly to present his left side as the spear Acharn tilted in the air toward the Dark Lord. The Shaper extended his left hand toward the Dark Voice, the Elder looked upon him beckoning with dark intent as red sparks crackled between his fingers and within the maelstorm around him.

"Come, and survive."

“Come, and die.”

An explosion of the Force, contained in a concentrated blast would pulse forth at the whim of the Shaper. A potent and devastating assault that would likely destroy anyone lesser and bring the full a raw expression of the Dark Side too large to be contained to the simple form of spear down upon him. The weaponized hate met with the powerful maelstorm around him in a momentous clash as the Elder pulled it all together with a mighty push into a concentrated effort and within a brief flash of light, rock, stone, and debris from the clash melted away from the explosive power of the Dark Side as his hands ignited in a blue flash

Faint blue orbs of light and a loud hum spiraled forth from the hands of Solipsis, smoke rolling off of the palms of his hands as the air became murky with saturated debris. The Shaper moved in for the attack, foolishly ignoring the signs as he hurled his weapon forward. The Elder thrusted forth with an assault of his own, releasing the absorbed energy that he had managed to contain from his opponent’s powerful onslaught into a conversion of his own as a devastating radiant sphere of pure hatred made manifest. The power unleashed ripples through the air threatening not only the weapon but it’s wielded as it was flung toward the Shaper with tremendous force.

The Elder stood still arms falling back into a back swing as his hands stretched out to grasp the incorporeal tethers between himself and the broken, ruptured stone clusters of temple damaged from the Shaper’s wake. The Dark Lord seized the invisible ties that bind and grasped the void, lifting the chunks of rock with the power of the Force and in the very same notion spiriting them away in a collision course with the Sith Emperor as their surrounding drowned in a sea of laughter from the lips of the Dark Lord.

Arctus Silmar

Quinn Varanin · May 25, 2021

//: Objective //: History Repeats //:
//: Target //:

Maestus //:

TK-818
//: Allies //: TSE //:

Alina Tremiru //:

Come out and play, cause I need a friend

Quinn looked up from her hand as a stable wave of electricity molded itself into a sphere. The crackling sphere tightened and wove itself into a bundle pulsing as the energy kept it alive. The amber flakes in her eyes darkened from the dark power the surged through her once again. “I will.” Her fist closed as the corruption faded, leaving the natural hazel return to the Echani’s gaze.

Alina was both her greatest strength and biggest weakness. Her heart ached to know they were entering combat, and she had to trust Alina’s ability to fight. The woman had survived this long but had lost so much to just survive.

The princess’s face softened as her thoughts remained on the Sith Lord, who had become her sworn protector. “Come back to me.” A swell of unspoken emotions, but her past kept her from letting them be known. The battlefield wasn’t the place she’d want Alina to understand how she felt.

A possible tender moment for the budding romance was cut before it could start. Her head snapped away from the Vampiress as she focused on the strings of the Force.

“Alina, something is close.”

Maple Harte · May 25, 2021

Wearing: HH Sniping Armor

Armed with: Survivor's Staff

Shadow Proclamation

Francisco

Night Stinger ( Crippling Scope , Mk 3 Broadened Chamber 3300 Hawkeye Barrel.
Gyro-Gimbal Mk 5 Ion Charger Hair Trigger.
Bipod)

With: The Amalgam

Objective: 3 (Snipe at Maw Brotherhood)

Maple stood in front of her new Master in the Throne Room of the Castle Morpheus, cringing at the stare of disappointment.

So much had upended her world since Kar Shian. So much had changed. Laertia had gone insane. The sheer threat of the Bryn'adul and now the Maw had utterly eclipsed her own private struggle with The Amalgam...they even had a truce. But Maple knew she would not honor it forever.

Especially since her new Master,

Nine Lives , The lead design consultant for Laertia's Nuetralizer Program and partial funder, would not allow it.

"You have angered me greatly by hiding this Alliance from me..." Nine snapped, face not concealed by her hooded Kimono, green with white rose embroidery.

"I did not wish to. But The Bryn'adul are a massive threat."

"You hide behind Darth Xiphos's reasoning, not yours..." Nine growled. "The only reasons I have not cast the both of you from my house is because you both acted to sincerely rescue me from her once, risking death at the hands of the Sith Empire. The second reason is because The Bryn'adul truly are a threat that will affect the CIS eventually. And Xiphos...for better or worse...is one of the few Warriors capable of killing their soldiers en masse. And third...I know how much you love her. How much you both love her."

Maple winced.

"The Amalgam is nothing but a monstrosity I will destroy at the earliest convenience."

"Justice isn't always convenient. But it is needed."

"I will kill her, Nine. Eventually."

"Maple, at what point does idealism factor into your decision making?" Nine questioned. "Have you ever asked yourself that?"

"You let your daughter Vera feed on the homeless. Maybe you getting kidnapped and tortured for weeks by The Amalgam was the Universe getting back at you."

Nine was silent at this for a moment.

"Perhaps." Nine all but admitted. "I believe a very large part of you does intend to kill her. However, I also believe a very large part of you doesn't want to. And those parts are equal in strength and at war with one another."

Maple was silent, wet Viridian eye blinking.

"Answer me honestly, Maple..." Nine asked, in a somewhat softer tone. "If you had known from the beginning The Amalgam had once been Ursula Sandraven...would killing her have been your first option?"

Maple shook a little, in her frayed, worn biker leathers. A single tear slid down her face.

"No..." She admitted. "I would have tried to save her."

"Perhaps you can answer another question honestly." Nine surmised. "You've been interacting with her in this foul alliance for months now. Is there anything about her worth saving?"

"No." Maple admitted.

"Next question. You might be willing to kill The Amalgam. Does Xiphos want to kill her?"

"No." Maple answered, another tear sliding down. "I can tell. She loves her too much. She will find excuse after excuse to keep her alive."

"Maple, I'm going to lay it out for you flatly. As long as this horrid Alliance stands, my own diplomatic ties in CIS territory are in peril. The Amalgam has served her purpose. Xiphos has solid ways into Sith territory now. Neither one of you need The Amalgam as a contact anymore. The Empire has plenty of Witches. They won't miss one. You need to be strong for you and whatever is left of Laertia in Xiphos. You need to kill. Last question. Will you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because I'm giving you two months to plan it out. Carefully. And I have an edge."

"And if she is not dead at the end of two months?"

"She will be, Maple." Nine growled in her contralto. "She will be. Because if she isn't, I shall have you and Xiphos cast from House Li-Ves. All licenses to build the Nuetralizers are in my name. I'll end that program for Xiphos. Permanently."

Maple nodded.

Nine sighed.

"I was you, once. Had to kill my Mother. I loved her but I had to do it. The Amalgam ultimately doesn't care who dies so long as you both finally end up in her clutches. She is planning something. Playing the both of you. Better to behead the snake now."

"But what about Xiphos's reaction to that?"

"Xiphos will fall in line or she will be back where she started when she came to me, a brutal, yet talented but ultimately out of her depth Warrior without the resources to prosecute her guerilla war against her enemies." Nine affirmed.

"We could drive her directly to the Dark Side. We might piss her off so bad she runs completely into the arms of The Sith Empire. You know how powerful she is already as a Light Sith. If she goes full Bogan, she'll paint the Galaxy red. Or try to." Maple warned her. Skip. Maple was composed of billions of dead flies. Skip. Back to reality."

"That is a risk we must take at this point. Xiphos believes pragmatism should reign stronger than ideals in times of crisis. That's the core of who she is. And to an extent, she isn't wrong. Where she is wrong is the extent she herself takes that sentiment."

"If Xiphos found out and tried to stop me, I would lose. I lost every fight I had with The Amalgam so far. I would fair even worse against Xiphos.

"Wrong. That's your doubt talking. You can slaughter even the strongest of warriors rapidly. I think you have more of a chance against her than you give yourself credit for. You know her better than anyone. Did you not hand her a rare defeat when you were both much younger in your very first encounter with her?"

"That was a practice bout." Maple said, figiting.

"But she still wasn't expecting to lose." Nine pointed out. "You wanna know where I think that rivalry you had with her truly started? The day you handed her one of her few defeats. I think that's about seventy percent of it, you getting more attention from Ursula than she did being the other thirty. You defeated her in front of her idol, on the first go. I think, deep down, she still hasn't forgotten that loss. For her, that was the day her ideal life really started to crumble. I think you should use that against her."

"You telling me to take down Xiphos?" Maple hissed.

"Defeat. Not kill. Just incapacitate long enough to get the Amalgam out of the way for good. Deep down, you will know how to defeat her. Search your feelings for an answer as to how."

"I am the only friend she truly, unquestionably has left." Maple said in a broken voice, head hung down, fists clenching.

"Then be her friend. Put an end to the Author of all her pain. The Author of all your pain." Nine said softly. "Ideals are a hard thing. They demand the best of us, often when we don't want to be the best of people. Maybe there really is no room for idealism in this conflict. Maybe our only solution really is to act with cold logic to survive, as Xiphos would have us do. And if that really is the case, then may the Universe forgive us our one moment of hypocrisy." Nine finished very softly. "I like you, Maple. I really do. And as much as I abhor some of Xiphos's more brutal acts, part of me admires her for her absolute conviction and prowess in war. But your pragmatism doesn't overcome the fact The Amalgam tortured me and killed many of my Morpheus Knights, and nearly destroyed a close friends home. Bring me The Amalgam's head...but say your goodbyes first, if you must."

"If I have to kill Xiphos?" Maple asked.

"Then the Galaxy will have to fight the Bryn'adul without her."

Maple was silent for a few moments.

"What's your edge?" Maple inquired.

Nine began to explain and Maple's eyes widened.

Present.

Maple moved through the red leaves of the Bloodwood Forest, disturbed by the task that lay ahead.

Not only would she have to kill The Amalgam, finally, but incapacitate Xiphos.

Maple still didn't believe she could defeat Xiphos. A part of her was heart broken over it.

The Amalgam had asked her to join her for counter-sniping operations here, and she had been busily at it for more than an hour, taking out Maw Marksman, never staying in one spot too long before relocating.

Her tricked out Nightstinger Sporting Rifle had been customized by Maple personally, an invisible bolt of death that killed squads.

She had killed three snipers so far, using a combination of the Force and Sniper knowledge to both hide from and locate them. This was another reason The Golden Eye was so deadly: Most Force Adepts prefer up close. Most Force Adepts also do not partially tailor their Force Use around ranged weapons.

Maple surveyed another squad moving through the woods, the rifles bipod and her armor steadying her aim as she studied. Maw Knyghts and savages of the same kind encountered at Csilla.

Maple cried all night after feeling Csilla die. She killed Maw Brotherhood at every opportunity after that day.

Maple put an invisible bolt through the Lead Knyght's face plate, cycled another shot then sniped the one behind him, a barely armored savage with a rocket launcher, hitting a spare warhead mounted on his back. The blast was defening, and set the immediate area around him on fire.

"Another hundred XP for me you Maw Motherfethers." Maple said under her breath, folding her bipod up and crawling on the ground to relocate...

Tegan Starfall · May 25, 2021

The Mongrel
Enemies:

Lady Marrow |

UX-0626 | The Dying Empire
Special Tags:

Lady Marrow

Tegan had followed well behind Mongrel and the Bloodsworn much like on Felucia she chose to observe first rather then intervene. She found herself sitting up in a tree away from the fighting but well enough where she could watch and perhaps eat her packed lunch. Tegan did have much interest in the corpse that was The Sith Empire. Hell if she counted this was what the eleventh Sith Empire she saw on the verge of Death. Heck she was even a member of one of the old ones until she was not so politely asked to leave and never come back. Then again that is what happened when you enslave your master and make a whole council look like idiots by blowing up their tower while they were being sieged. Her reasons for doing so had been because they refused to acknowledge her accomplishments and continued to scoff her like she was nothing. Still even after betraying them they still went on thinking she was nothing, yet Tegan did not hate sith she pitied them.

Sith raped world like this of natural resources to build their weapons of war. Yet for every weapon they made, they were never willing to do what actually needed to be done to conquer the Galaxy. Then one of their own would stab the empire in the back just to build another stupid pointless empire based on an old religion that had been watered down to the point of losing all the fear it once caused in the eyes of the greater Galaxy at large. To Tegan sith were an outdated cliché that just didn’t know when to let go and die already.

She took a bite of her sandwich as she watched roots and vines sprout from ground, only looking up as she heard the screams of many of the bloodsworn. It was followed a call for fire all of it, Tegan perked up a bit this was starting to get interesting. She put her hand to the tree she was sitting as she knew something in the area had major control over nature. Tegan wondered if it was one the witches, one of her former sisters as she had heard some of them had pathetically bent a knee to this dead empire. It had been a long time since she had directly interacted with one of her former sisters of the night.

As she touched the tree she could feel the hum the heart beat of nature itself and she could feel the magicks and force flowing through it. She could sense someone was using it to take a read on that walked the forest much like a web. Her orange eyes scanned as fire erupted the bloodsword letting loose there incinerating devices. As the forest started to irrupt in fires here and there Tegan leapt from the tree landing on the ground doing the famed superhero landing that was bad for your knees. Tegans face was painted in dathomir war paint but her most defining feature was those burning orange eyes that scanned the field ahead. She didn’t care about the death of the hordes of the Maw, nor did she have much interest in The Mongrels plight. No she was looking for the one who had command over nature itself, it would be fun to break one with such power.

She rose to her feet slowly still looking, her hands began to move in a fluid motion a green and black aura began to spin around her as she began to cast a spell one she had not in a long time. On the ground her feet began to sweep in a dancing motion as it drew a symbol into the ground. Some of the Magical energy flowed down her feet and into the symbol her heels had dug there. A wed began spiral out from Tegan in all direction across the battlefield. The web would touch all minds on the field just briefly giving Tegan their location. As the web expanded Tegans hands stopped moving and she charged more energy into the palm of her right hand. Her hand went down touching the ground sending the rest of that energy along the web. It touched the dead and they began to rise it didn’t matter if they were dead of the sith or bloodsworn all the dead in the area began to rise. Some were even fire corpses now shambling forth. Tegan’s eyes watched as the Maws forces where now replenished with undead, she then prepared for her next spell one to disrupt the Nature caster.

Khaostra Devoid · May 25, 2021

Darth Solipsis |

Kyrel Ren
Enemies:

Arctus Silmar | Darth Mori |

Darth Strosius
Special Tags: N Nyxeris

Khaos had faded among her troops that had charged towards the witch of the empire. Yet she could just feel it as several of her men were cut down and very energy of there lives being absorbed charging the batteries of the other witch. The way she so casually fed on the life force of others reminded Khaos of her mother, such power and coldness to the killing. Khaos wasn’t like that she felt every kill she made, it screamed at her in her dreams. Every face of those she had killed on Csilla had been etched into her brain death is not what fueled her but rather chaos and carnage. Khaos fed on the mayhem around her that made her stronger and fueled her power.

It wasn’t long and the empires witch locked eyes with her, though Khaos was wearing a helmet that hide her eyes that burned with energy of the mayhem around her. Even as the clouds darkened and the storms strengthened it cause more chaos and panic that fueled her. Then the bodies came bolting towards her of the first seven that had reached the witch of the empire. Khaos Dodged one going into a side roll and then blasted a telekinetic blast of her own tossing a few off to the side as she cut another in half. She went to dodge the one of the final two but as she did the final body slammed into her causing her to get knocked to the ground on her back.

She found her gaze once more locked with the other witches as she looked up from her back. “I know there is no power in this dying empire, you serve.” Was the answer she gave her eyes behind the mask looking for something anything to get herself out of this bad prone situation she now found herself in. Khaos reached up towards the sky and with fury she she pulled a bolt of lightning from the storm above and forced its direction to the ground between her and Nyxeris to put some more distance between her and the other witch as she scrambled to her feet.

“Any witch with an ounce of pride would wash their hands of Sith.”

Subject 54 Havoc · May 25, 2021

Location: Approaching Sivvi
Objective: 2, hold off Imperial Response
Allies: Attackers, BOTM,

Tu'teggacha , Open
Enemies: Defenders, TSE, Open

Havoc continued watching the systems of the Fatalis as they continued holding blockade positions. Along with that, on his terminal, system reports were coming in from the engineers and technicians from the other ships in their small fleet. Everything seemed to be in the green on the Fatalis, and the reports he was getting from the other ships showed that all systems were up and running on the other ships, too. Everything seemed to be going good... and still no response from the base...

Havoc looked up from his console and at the Taskmaster when the Taskmaster replied to him.

Tu'teggacha said:
"Target their hangars in the opening salvo. We will disable their ability to launch any support craft."

Havoc nodded. "Yes, Taskmaster." He affirmed, before looking back down at his console and began typing, priming the weapons of the Fatalis. The Fatalis had a wide array of armament, and combined with the other ships in their fleet, they had a considerable amount of firepower for such a small fleet. Havoc continued typing at his console, alerting the engineers and technicians within the Fatalis and the other ships within the Maw fleet to get to their stations, and prepare their weapons. He then started aiming and aligning the weapons of the Fatalis, targeting them at the hangar below. "Grid to mark: Mike-1-1-Charlie-5. Alignment heading 33.2149." Havoc said through his commlink to the other technicians, continuing to type and align the weapons of the Fatalis.

"Armament aligned." An officer at a nearby console reported.

"Cannons are primed and ready." Havoc affirmed.

Tu'teggacha said:
"Take up bombardment positions," he ordered. "You may fire when ready."

"Confirmed, Taskmaster. Commencing firing sequence." Havoc nodded, typing at his console, and pushing a lever forward.

The cannons on the ship powered up, and fired a salvo of multiple shots at the base below. The shots raced down towards the hangar. Havoc watched on the viewscreen as the hangar erupted in explosions from the salvo.

"Salvo fired. Good effect on target. Their hangar has been damaged. Currently uncertain as to the extent of the damage." Havoc reported.

So far, it was all smooth sailing...

Tu'teggacha · May 25, 2021

Objective II: Hold Off Imperial Response

Location: Thurra System, Orbiting Sivvi
Allies:

Subject 54 Havoc
Foes: TSE | Open

Havoc carried out his orders with trademark efficiency and precision. The huge MegaCaliber turbolasers and orbital autocannons of the Fatalis were designed to bombard a planet's surface, though they had served just as well against enemy capital ships over Csilla, and they proved exactly why in that opening salvo. These were huge, powerful guns, drawing their strength from the kind of massive reactor that only a Super Star Destroyer could carry. Every bolt they fired had the strength to vaporize a starfighter or cripple a corvette, their tremendous destructive potential balanced only by their low rate of fire.

Of course, that didn't matter too much in an orbital bombardment.

Explosions rippled across the viewscreen, bursting over the base below... yet Tu'teggacha could not shake the feeling that there should have been far more destruction than what he was seeing. The enemy hangar had been damaged through Havoc's pinpoint accuracy, but it should have been nothing but slag. His gnarled, long-fingered hands flew over his instruments, running a scan, and he found it: there was a potent energy shield surrounding the base. He remembered the intel the Brotherhood had secured about the asteroid moon, remembered that it had once been home to an ancient CIS base... which had housed a planetary shield.

Thule was clearly not covered by a planetary shield, but perhaps the Sivvi installation had been able to use some of that old infrastructure to see to its own defense. Tu'teggacha scowled, his tentacles pulling apart to expose his gruesome, fang-lined ring of a mouth. "A localized shield is reducing the effect of our weapons," he reported, then froze. He could sense something through the Force, something rapidly approaching the little raider fleet. And then, just an instant before it was too late, he realized why they hadn't encountered any patrols in this key military system. "Brace for impact!" he ordered. "It's a trap!"

An instant later, the mighty Fatalis rocked with impacts from above and below. The base's turbolaser defenses, silent up until that moment, had suddenly opened fire. At the same time, multiple squadrons of Caldoth-class bombers streaked into attack formation, launching proton bombs at the Maw flagship; they must have been hiding in the moon's shadow, using its mass to disguise their location. The initial salvo alone was devastating, overwhelming the shields in spots where the Sith attackers concentrated their fire; several hastily-repaired turrets and bulkheads burst under the strain, and the damage readouts blinked a lurid red.

Tu'teggacha let out a dark curse; yet more Sith vessels were approaching from Thule's shadow.

The Brotherhood's only hope was that this was still just a local defense fleet, rather than one of the massive invasion forces that had been deployed in the war against the NIO. They might be able to hold off the Thule system flotilla long enough to complete their raid, but facing a full detachment of the Sith-Imperial navy... that was unlikely to end well for them. "Cease the bombardment," Tu'teggacha ordered, "and divert additional power to shields. We must hold them off while continuing to prevent the Sivvi base from launching reinforcements to Enenpa or Thule." It was a tall order, but the Fatalis had survived long odds before.

"And launch fighters!" the Taskmaster continued. "We must clear those bombers!"

They were caught between a rock and a hard place, an aggressive enemy fleet and a well-shielded base, both firing at them. They would need to find some way to survive that combined barrage without failing in their objective: keeping up the blockade at all costs. But even that objective would have to be weighed against the simple fact that the Maw, still reeling from Csilla's losses, simply could not afford to lose many more ships. This battle would require difficult command decisions for both Tu'teggacha and Havoc. As the Brotherhood fighters, elite Divine Eagles and expendable Darkshears, streaked out into space, the Ebruchi frowned.

Only time, and perhaps the Avatars, could tell how long they'd be able to keep this up.

Fatalis, a Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought	Blockading Sivvi
Severing Blade, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Blockading Sivvi
Crimson Offering, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Blockading Sivvi
Festering Wound, a Nebulon K-class Frigate	Blockading Sivvi
Born of Ashes, a Skor III-class Artillery Frigate	Blockading Sivvi

Alina Tremiru · May 25, 2021

Objective: Defeat the Brotherhood
Location: Enenpa
Equipment: See Sig
Allies: TSE/EE
Enemies: BotM
Tags:

Quinn Varanin |

Maestus |

TK-818

"Always." A simple promise as she turned her gaze elsewhere. She was ready to run off, find her own battle and stop hovering around Quinn. They were each others weaknesses. To fight together would be an advantage, for sure. But the danger it posed was something Alina didn't want to put on either of them. She trusted that Quinn could handle herself, without her assistance.

Then she felt it. Her.

The Vampiress without a word dropped in front of the Echani princess. Her lightspear's blade ignited, held point down in a single hand. Her eyes glaring ahead towards the inferno heading their way.

"Maestus." She glanced over her shoulder, offering the briefest of smiles. "Forgive me, I guess I can't just leave your side."

Rynn Vizsla · May 25, 2021

// Outer Rim Territories // Esstran Sector // Thurra System // Thule - Surface //
Objective: I - Breach the Ziggurat of Hurom; Collect the Relic.
Allies of Convenience: The Brotherhood of the Maw.
Enemies: The Sith Empire.
Equipment: See Biography Link in Signature.
NPC Complement: One Mandalorian Starship; The Wayward Son.
Currently Engaging: No-one; Open to Interaction.

His skin prickled in the twinned, conflicting sensations of anxiety and elation. The opportunity that was laid before his feet by another was too tempting to pass on. While the origins of this chance were questionable, it was clear after some interrogation that the weapon they were looking for was situated on the benighted surface of Thule. The figure who came to them was a monstrous abomination that beggared belief and reeked of dark magic. The man was consumed by the alchemized flesh grafted to his muscular frame and spoke to them in the common tongue - distorted only by the bestial chords singing within a swollen throat. This creature, as it were, spoke of their sorted history with the Sith Empire and the decline that helped shape the events of the present.

The creature spoke of their time within the crumbling Empire’s court; Of how the man was stolen away from the bloodied depths of the arena and whisked away into the bespeckled depths of space. It was there that the creature came to learn of the reasons why he was selected, that his prowess within that concentric ring garnered the attention of a certain Sith lord. This Lord promised the man everything, hoping that he would willingly condemn himself into the figure’s eternal service. However, the creature knew the dangers this would pose; Of how one apprentice after the other was tossed aside when they failed to measure up to unfathomable expectations. That wasn’t to mention what would happen if his own people, the scions of some desert world with twinned suns, learned the truth.

Despite everything, the creature accepted the deal - and began preparing himself for the anointed test.

During these preparations, no knowledge was denied to him. Every leather-bound tome, cracked data slate and pyramidal Holocron was made available to the would-be creature in their Quest for power. It was believed that the once-man would be ensnared by the darkest secrets their order had to offer, leading towards a more obedient servant and skilled apprentice. Sadly, such an eventuality wouldn’t come to pass. While the teacher believed they would give birth to the newest master of the dark arts, they were instead betrayed time and again by the creature. For, the would-be creature knew the dangers of this pursuit and carefully guarded himself against his teacher’s evil at every turn.

During this one-sided betrayal, the creature came to learn of a Reliquary, sequestered away in the heart of some temple on some benighted world. There were no accounts of what lay within this mythical treasury, save for the words stolen from the mouths of the Lord’s crumbling court. Those stolen words spoke of a beloved treasure that stood out amongst the countless trinkets scattered about the Reliquary and the Ziggurat thereafter. What lay within that room was more valuable than anything they could ever imagine. If those stolen words were true, such a treasure would undoubtedly bring the Mandalorians of the Death Watch the vengeance they so desperately sought.

While they had their chance at Mustafar, those Cowards managed to slip through their fingers and vanish into the night. With this treasure in hand, however, there would be nowhere left for these Godly Curs to run too.

Thus, as the landing struts of his starship touched down upon the haunted surface of Thule - Rynn’s flesh pimpled with excitement and trepidation. There was too much riding on this endeavour for failure to be an option. Yet, despite the crucial nature of this Quest, the Death Watch couldn’t afford to dispatch their Armada, let alone portions of the Crusader Host. Their attention was diverted elsewhere, where their might was needed more and where they would be utilized more effectively. With the rumours of this benighted planet being scoured of all sentient life, there was little need to marshal a Crusade. Especially when the only opposition one could expect were the echoes of those that came before.

So, the young Vizsla took up this Quest by himself. It was undoubtedly dangerous, as not only was Thule located within the proverbial heartland of the Sith Empire. But, an unexpected ally - of a sort - had also directed their destructive attention towards the benighted world. In a twisted sense of convenience, these insidious beings provided the Mandalorian with the perfect chance to slip into the system unseen. The Sith Empire and their gene-printed lackeys were too busy dealing with the more significant threat to concern themselves with the machinations of a single Mandalorian starship. Thule herself - though wounded and enraged - wasn’t distracted enough to dismiss this newfound trespass, with the Sith-Imperial defenders directing their myriad attentions elsewhere.

Though unmolested by crackling lightning as the vessel made their descent, Rynn soon found himself targeted by the benighted world as soon as the man parted from its metallic husk. A bolt of crimson-hued lightning struck the outcropping nearest to his resting starship, throwing chunks of rotten earth into the air with thunderous force. It wasn’t safe to stay here, let alone allow his vessel to become buried beneath Thule’s conjured fury. As the Mandalorian dashed forward, seeking cover from Thule’s vengeance, his fingers danced across the keypad built into the forefront of his vambrace. With a selection of remote-input commands, the starship began to thrum with mechanical activity and took to the iron-choked skies thereafter.

He was alone, now. Alone atop a world that despised him, with countless enemies on all sides that knew not of his trespasses. But, armed with numerous gadgets, armoured in crimson iron, and burdened by an indomitable will to survive against the odds? Rynn Vizsla, Son of distant Concordia and soon-to-be Field Marshal of the Death Watch - wouldn’t have it any other way.

Mandalorians thrived in target-rich environments such as this.

Invasion Kingdom Come: BotM Invasion of TSE Held Thule

Vesta

Guest

E T E R N A L - E M P R E S S

I am Mayhem

The Shaper

Prophet of Bogan

Absolute Knowledge Corrupts Absolutely

Ecstasy for Agony

The World Eater

Mawite Legend

Ecstasy for Agony

Mawite Legend

The Sith’ari

L E G A T U M

Darth Strelok

The Voice In Your Head

I am Mayhem

You May Fire When Ready

Breaker of Minds

Who Am I?

Spawnslayer

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