Invasion Kingdom Come: BotM Invasion of TSE Held Thule

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Objective //: History Repeats //:
//: Target //: TK-818 //: Maestus //:
//: Allies //: TSE //: Alina Tremiru //:
Come out and play, cause I need a friend

Seeing the arrival of the twi’lek and the familiarity between her and Alina sparked something inside of her chest. Jealousy that there was someone else that knew the woman, but Quinn knew there were others - there were going to be others.

Emotions were a dangerous thing, and the empath became distracted by hers. Who was this woman? Why did she know Alina? Quinn glanced between the two, her sense absorbed in the circulating doubt and concern. The Sith were filled with dangers, and Quinn regretted stepping into this fire, but in the end, if she and Alina could have something - it was worth it.

Something moved quickly in the shadows; Quinn remained unaware as her senses were focused on the tension between the twi’lek and the Vampiress. “Ali--” Quinn stepped forward, and as her foot settled on a snapped twig, pain shot through her shoulder. The Halibard struck, finding its target and burrowing deep into her flesh. She could feel muscle ripping against the blade, causing a blinding pain to draw her attention from her emotions.

Anger filled the princess as a hand gripped the base of the weapon’s edge and let the electricity she had felt course through the weapon. As she let the electricity flow from her hand, Quinn pulled herself off the halberd and, with the aid of the force, jumped back, creating distance again between her and the shadowed attacker.​

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Objective: Defeat the Brotherhood
Location: Enenpa
Equipment: See Sig
Allies: TSE/EE
Enemies: BotM
Tags: Quinn Varanin | Maestus | TK-818

Sure enough, it was her.

And it wasn't the appearance that brought up such a thought. The cocky attitude Maestus had as an acolyte when they first met rang true. Time they both had, but it seemed to do little to temper arrogance. Alina flashed a fanged smile. Better to appear in control to such arrogance. Play and control the other Sith's emotions to make them that much easier to read. Counter. She flicked up her pike, prepared and ready to strike. Then a sweet scent filled the air.

One she knew too well.

The golden eyes of the Sith Lord widened as an unprecedented anger filled them. The white of her eyes leeched into a deep, crimson red, like a cloud covering the daylight sky above. Gone was the idea of controlling emotion. Her Lightpike was immediately thrown, cutting through the air faster than a blaster could. Right for the red Twi'lek. But before the weapon would even reach the Sith Lord she was upon the Ren.

Any part of Alina's humanity was erased. The Vampress brought around her now clawed hand for the figure's throat in a single, powerful thrust of her arm. The kind of power that would easily rend the average person's head from their shoulder. Quinn's blood had been spilt, and all Alina had was rage for those who would dare to spill it.

 

[Mar'Sika]

OBJECTIVE: DOOMVAULT

An unholy chill began to filter along on the night breeze. Something wicked was coming. The tiny little hairs on the back of one's neck would begin to stand straight. The flesh prickling. Heart's would beat faster, harder. Breathes became shallow and labored.

From the mist near the Temple door, a silhouette began to form. Tall, thin, willowy. All ways to describe the shadowy form. Also of apt description would be faint, dark and ominous. Emanating from the mist began an eerie sound. A melody which one had to strain to hear. As notes were discerned, here and there, the melody created a song.

From the mist, on thin twiglike legs, came a worrisome sight. The form was vaguely feminine, but there was no guarantee of what you see. The form wore torn, wispy robes that swirled around as if they were sentient. From the sleeves of the robe protruded bony arms which lead to equally bony, knobby fingers. The form held blades made of obsidian, and carved into half moons.

The head of the form was the last part to appear. Facial features were sharp and most severe. On top of it's head, the form wore a crown. Black obsidian, it had 3 horns from the forehead to the crown of the head. But the most haunting part of this form, were Her Eyes. Completely black, they gave the impression that she was very feminine and that she saw into your very soul. That she knew your deepest fear. Your darkest desire. Your biggest secret.

She was Mar'Sika, the elusive Heathen Priestess.

The song that had begun with the mist, and had been slowly building, came to a spectacular crescendo. Every member of the Maw would soon feel a fire begin to build deep within each and every one of them. Their hearts began to pound harder.

Mar'Sika tossed back her head and threw her arms out. She opened her lips and loosed her voice at the crescendo of the song. A fire stoking cry to war carried in waves over the surface until it had touched every Maw member.

The call for blood had been heard. Who among them would answer the Priestess?

​

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Objective II: Hold Off Imperial Response​

Location: Thurra System, Orbiting Sivvi
Allies: Subject 54 Havoc | Aldo Garrick
Foes: TSE | Open

Despite the tension of the situation, the Taskmaster managed a wet chuckle at Admiral Garrick's words, so different from other servants of the Maw. He wondered about all the disparate elements that the Brotherhood had welded together. There were the marauders and the heathen priests, bound to the Maw by dark faith. There were the Athysians and the ex-pirates, more concerned with plunder and glory than zealotry. There were the Ren, bound to Kyrel Ren 's ambition above all. There were the forces of the Final Dawn, like Garrick, neo-Imperials who believed they were forging a better, more ordered galaxy out of the ashes that the Maw's brutal conquests were leaving behind.

Behind it all plotted the New Sith Order, with Darth Solipsis at their head, preaching a return to the ways of deception and control from the shadows. Somehow their machinations kept all these factions in check, kept the destructive looters from the far Unknown Regions and the authoritarian soldiers from the Deep Core fighting on the same side when they ought to have torn each other apart. How a single faction could contain both a Garrick and a Mongrel, a Steelblood and a Sularen... it was beyond the Ebruchi's comprehension. And yet there they were, each convinced they were fighting toward their own ends.

It was a masterpiece of manipulation, and Tu'teggacha admired it.

"Do as he says," the Taskmaster ordered the bridge crew. The Fatalis and the rest of the little raid flotilla fell back as far as they could from the incoming Sith ships, braving the guns of Sivvi to do it. With their shields strengthened and directed downward, they could withstand the moonbase's fire, at least for the moment... but it left them vulnerable from above. They could only hope that Garrick and his Magnus would come through for them, clearing the skies with their proton beam cannons before the bigger Sith ships got close enough to blow them apart. As always with the Brotherhood, it would surely come down to the wire.

At least the additions to the fighter screen were helping, streaking in to add to the forces clearing the incoming Sith bombers. It was only that added strength that allowed the capital ships to divert their shields; without the distraction and destruction inflicted on the bombers, they could never have risked it. And yet, as he worked to coordinate all of these various ships and squadrons, Tu'teggacha found his mind on a very different kind of craft. He would freely admit that he could not wait to see the other weapon that Garrick had brought with him unleashed at last, their most destructive creation since the Mercy.

Yes, he longed to see their remade World Devastators let loose upon Enenpa.

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

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

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

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 ] ​

The dance continued. The game between the two of them took an interesting turn again. During the siege of Batuu, every single moment, every single movement and word resulted in a bigger and bigger gap between the two of them. Now in this place, every moment, every word and act again brought them closer and closer. The former allies became enemies at Batuu, maybe they will be allies here again? Did the differences really appeal to each other so much? Especially if the goals are common?

After her own injury, she stepped back a few, Zachariel would have started after her, he also had a question. The question caught her off guard. Ingrid never thought of that. She, throughout her life, obeyed orders, did her duty. She saw exactly what the Force could do, how it played with others, but she also saw the benefits. It was her duty, to destroy it, not because she enjoyed it. But she had to do this as so many other times in her life. She never let something so captivate her that she wanted or desired it to. She couldn't afford it.

"Honestly? I do not know."

She said after the man stopped, the poison seemed to be starting to work. Now Ingrid waited motionless for what the man would do. She didn't move as Zachariel stepped closer, but in the end the man didn't attack, just laughed, then looked back at where he had come from. She, too, knew exactly that a new era was coming, but it was not yet time for them to act. They wanted to do this in such a way that others would only notice what the Eternal Empire had done when it was too late. When the Force disappears at once, in silence. Surprisingly. Maybe no one ever learned it was them.

"Yes, and we need you. As long as everyone is watching the Maw, we can work unobtrusively. You, the Maw, will pave the way for us."

After that, she saw something she wasn't expecting. The man was tired, so was Ingrid, she was fed up with the ongoing wars fought in the name of the Force. Just because someone was standing on one side or the other. It had no significance. She lowered both her swords and stabbed them in the ground. Took off her helmet and placed it on one of her swords. Now her hair was not in the bun; her long red hair collapsed to the middle of her back and below, as well as in front of the armour, the wind playing with the red locks of hair.

Ingrid stepped closer, without the slightest sign of fear. At first she went a distance of a metre, then stepped so close that their armour almost collided. If Zachriel let, the woman reached up to the man's face and stroked the helmet gently. She spoke softly, almost in a whisper.

"I'm not asking you to leave Maw, Mr. Steelblood. However, you have to understand that if you stay there, we will be enemies on the battlefield. Our goals may be common, but I'm not agree with the methods. If others will go to war against the Maw, we'll support them. If you stay there, I can’t protect you, I can’t hide you as I did with my men. I can't take care of you. And yes, that's exactly what I'm asking for, that's what I want."

She paused for a few moments as she stroked the helmet again.

"What do I want, Mr. Steelblood? Someday, I want to meet secretly with the Maw leaders as a first step, without them knowing who they’re negotiating with. I want assurance that no one will know about what we were talking about today. On the other hand, I want you to be my liaison in your masters’ direction. And the question is, what do you want for these, Mr. Steelblood? Maybe you want to get rid of fatigue, other emotions? Or do you have any other desires?"

 

[Maestus]

Maestus had but a split second to react once Alina Tremiru threw the pike at her. A hand went up towards the pike, outstretched. Immediately, the pike slowed to a crawl thanks to Maestus usage of Slow. She took a step and grabbed the pike in one hand, and thrust it point first into the dirt.

As TK-818 made his attack against Quinn Varanin , she could only smirk. And added vicious to her list of descriptors about this particular Ren. Maestus took no particular pleasure in seeing Quinn's blood spilled. It was simply necessary.

Of more interest was Alina's response to Quinn's injury. Maestus would never have thought anything more than 2 friends or colleagues. But this presented such an intriguing possibility. She outstretched her hand once more, this time pointed at Alina. A telekenetic burst would attempt to wrap around the Sith Vampress, enveloping her in Stasis.

Stop, Alina. I do not need to invade your mind again to know this female is dear to you. Now stop, or you will both fall this day.

​

​

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Doomvault, Thule
Enemies: TSE. Darth Mori
Allies: Halketh Darth Solipsis
Objective: 1

Kyrel kept his blade locked with hers, even as her form had changed into something more monstrous, more alien than he. While he himself was nothing more than a walking corpse with the power of the shadow, and whatever else his makers had instilled within him. The audacity of the fellow beast before him only continued to create anger. With every telekinetic force that was launched towards him, caused him to slightly shift away from her. Ligtning came from his finger tips to imbue his own hungry blade. "The dark side in of itself is not meant to be seized, not controlled but fed, served and in turn serves us. As the Shadow has always done. To seek control of it is madness, and leads to doom."

He said listening to her words, she spoke of how he had sought the treasures from within. A laugh escaped the deformed mouth. "I do not seek just treasures, I seek the destruction of your kind. If not all Sith, this empire of yours will suffice. It will do just well enough." He said with an even more clash of lightsaber blades, the crackle and sparks filled both noise and sight. She herself constantly launching more telekinetic blasts, and once more sent him stumbling. Just as he allowed her to do so. When he clashed his blades once more with her's the energy that was imbued in both blades this time caused a small shockwave that tore, and sent some of the stone flying, creating some distance between the two combatants. With only a small moment to recover. Kyrel spoke to her again. "Do you think yourself worthy of leading the Sith? The Sith that are many, time and time again they have met failure. The dark side has abandoned the Sith and found new forms. New instruments of it's will to take hold. What makes you worthy?"

He charged, this time changing hands from being on both offense and defense, to a now full frontal assault. Running towards her with incredible speed. Until it was two monsters locked head to head in a death match. His blade attempting to make a wide slash for her head, while his free hand formed into a fist. Attempting to go for driving his hand through her stomach. In an attempt to rip out any entrails that she has. The same voice telling him to rip her open, and to feast on her flesh, and to drink in her blood. Surely she had been a worthy foe for the Master of Ren to earn that much. To seize control has passed, but to serve and destroy. That is the new way, the only way." He said, his eyes staring into hers, himself barring his teeth.

 

[TK-818]

Tags: Maestus | Quinn Varanin | Alina Tremiru​

“Ali--”

She would not finish her word. The poled weapon struck true, tearing into her flesh as it dug it's way deep into her shoulder. He could almost drink in her pain, her anger. It was intoxicating.

A lone hand of his quarry escaped his notice, resting along the base of the weapon's edge as her raw emotion channeled into a surge of electricity. Sparks flew from her in poetic justice, utilizing the Beskar Alloy and it's metallic pole as a sort of conductor to bridge the gap between her and her opponent. Sinh was totally unaware, the Knight of Ren so caught up in the moment as the Shadow washed over him. Now he would feel the wrath of the Princess for his transgression as she pulled herself off his weapon and created distance between them with the aid of the Force as she jumped back to safety.

The Knight of Ren fell to his knee, briefly bowing his head as he grit his teeth under his cracked helm in utter agony. His flesh seared, his body shuttered frozen in locked anguish. Small remnant sparks bounced off his armor in the aftermath as smoke rolled off his onyx armor. He breathed deeply, exhaling as his body adjusted quickly to bring him back into the fight.

His head rose, his vision widened. In a split second his enemy was upon him, the Sith Lord Alina Tremiru leaping for his throat with fearsome resolve. There was no time to react, only time for instinct.

The Knight of Ren's hand rose, extending his senses into the empyrean to touch upon the Force and grasp at the void. He willed himself upon that force of nature, that law of physics, and attempted to suspend his enemy with the power of Force Stasis as he dropped his head down. Sinh's body felt weakened, burned. He needed to power through and seize the moment, it was time for the Sith to die.

 

[Aldo Garrick]

Sivvi
Objective 2: The Firebase
Resurrection Class Battlecruiser ‘Magnus’
——————————————————————————
Operation: FINAL DAWN

​

The ion engines on the WD-1 World Devastators came to life with a silent roar, the blue glow of it's luminescent thruster fire intensifying as the vessels advanced forward. The MAW fleet under Tu'teggacha had provided them a straight shot for Enenpa, soon the failure of the Sith Empire would be complete. Soon the very surface of Enenpa's Bloodwood and it's various raw materials would feed the MAW War Machine, it was time, it was THEIR time.

"Sir Proton Cannon primed."

Admiral Garrick cracked a wicked smile as fighters swarmed into view, clashing alongside his own. The 'Magnus' neared the enemy fleet as vessels congregated in to try and pin the Battlecruiser in with overwhelming numbers and firepower. A hedge tactic, a classic Imperial maneuver dating back to the old Empire of Palpatine the Great. Admirable.

With a firm hand and a straight washboard stance, proud and strong, the Sith cultist casually cast aside his hand with a brief gesture.

"Destroy them."

The massive cannon opened fire, unleashing a splitting beam from the 'Magnus' as it collided with a neaby enemy Star Destroyer.

"It's beautiful."



Tu'teggacha

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Location: Bloodwoods
Objective: Du-du-du-duel!
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim
Weapons: Sword | Axe​

He saw her mind race and then still, realizing she had no answer, no true plan but her orders. In a sense that was freeing, but also so very restricting, there was no freedom for her to do anything. Zachariel was the opposite, he had all the freedom he could ever crave, but could never truly use it from where he was. She had her plans and tools, a course plotted on how to eliminate her foes while never being seen. He had an overarching plan, but no true course, because those he was with had their own plans. Zachariel had no illusions as to where he and others stood in the grand scheme of things, they were all manipulating one another, using one another to further their own goals. Only time would tell who truly came out on top.

Then she spoke once more, revealing her plans if only partially. Another layer to the grand scheme of things, another manipulator who believed themselves in control. The longer Zachariel spent in the Maw, the more he came to see the multiple layers of manipulation. From Kyrel seeking power for himself and his followers, to the Voice using them for some unknown purpose, while others such as Maestus simply sought more power and to appease their masters. And in the center of it all were the poor fools who truly believed in their cause, not seeing the manipulations at play, simply going from battle to battle for their dark masters and the Avatars. It all made him so tired, from the entire crusade he'd waged for centuries, to the countless manipulations he'd worked through, it all made him so tired, and that was something Ingrid saw.

Zachariel's eyes were on Ingrid as she stabbed her blades into the ground and removed her helmet. To say he was confused by her actions was an understatement, and when she stepped towards him he was all but frozen in surprise. Her offering a fight, Zachariel could easily deal with, a discussion was easily within his capabilities, but this? He had no clue what this was as her armor nearly scraped against his. Her reaching up and touching his helmet broke him from that spell, but he said nothing as she spoke, instead simply staring down at her.

She spoke, telling him of what she had in mind. He was so very still as she spoke, not moving, not making a single sound, simply looking down at her and listening, thinking. When she finished speaking and stroked his helmet once more Zachariel, simply nodded, not trusting his voice just yet. He wasn't exactly sure what that all entailed, though he did know part of what she wanted wasn't needed, but it was... interesting to have another so invested in him, even if for their own goals, if that's why she even wanted that.

Then she continued, and Zachariel felt part of his hope die, as it's utterly destroyed by what she says. For a mere moment he had hoped that she was being only partially truthful, but her next words make him remember just how much more is at play. It prompts him to tighten his grip on his blades, physically gripping onto that realization and the dark amusement that comes with it. After several long moments of silence from him, Zachariel finally chuckles, it's a small, hollow chuckle, one without mirth, only reality. Quietly he mutters to himself, just loud enough for Ingrid to hear.

"Trading one masters loose leash, for another's puppet strings." He knows full well what her later statements mean, though he doesn't understand why she would want to protect him, hide him away even. Why, why, why? It's a maddening question, but one he doesn't voice, instead he speaks once more. "Let them come, the ones I want to and will purge are those that come, those that try so hard to stop us, to stop me. None of them ever could, none of them ever will be able to. But why do you care..."

That last line is a mere whisper, one that barely has time to form coherent sound before Zachariel finally breaks contact. He straightens as his mind kicks into overdrive once more, finally holstering his weapons on his back, full well knowing they won't be needed anymore. After another moment of thought, Zachariel finally speaks once more, some mirth there, but also a dark undertone. He's back to being the full warlord, having let go and pushed down the rest, not daring to think more on that subject, but focus on what was concrete.
"All that happened today is battle, no more, no less. The rest... that will all take time and patience, and more planning and communication." To that end, Zachariel pulled out a communications device and held it out to Ingrid. It was a simple thing, but had the data needed to communicate with him directly. "As for what I want or desire, I don't truly know as of yet."

 

[Maple Harte]

Maple furiously attacked the Sith who had challenged, her attacks just as savage as his. Time and again they gained the upper hand, then lost it to each other

He's good. Maple admitted to herself. But she had been trained by The Amalgam. And she'd swallow Fire Ants before allowing herself to be beat by some ass that put all his perk points into One Handed and Destruction.

Maple began to feth with him, going more drunken in her assault, catching him off guard as she dodged a beheading by leaning backward like she was doing a shot of whiskey, kicking him in the chest at the same time. He stumbled backward, and lunged with hate filled slashing, that she flipped and ducked in equal measure, never ceasing her drunken movements, tripping him, incorporating her parries into her drunkard swaying and flips, managing to Nick him on the wrist. He snarled in pain, but used it to become stronger and faster, yet he still couldn't catch up to Maple, who became a blur as she evaded his deadly, wrath filled attacks, until he finally grew frustrated and attempted to choke her with the Force.

A blink of concentration and multiple plants grew and ensnared him, roots wrapping around him and squeezing the Sith with deadly strength.

"Take me? In The Green? You serious?" Maple asked, clenching her fists and making the ensnared plants violently slam him into the ground repeatedly until the fight left him, then she made the plants drag him under the dirt to partially suffocate him, the horror of feeling Csilla die playing in her mind each second he struggled for air.

"You won't see the War's end. You're close to death. Think there will be a rebirth?" Maple taunted, as she watched him desperately claw for air.

"The Maw Brotherhood are nothing but filthy vermin and they disgust me." Maple snarled, finally relenting and letting him have air only when it was clear he understood he was beaten.

"But I'm not gonna kill you like this. I'm not a sadist like The Amalgam. I'm not gonna kill you at all, in fact. But when I am through? You will wish I had." Maple vowed.

Thirty minutes later...

The Sith, missing most of his teeth, an arm and leg broken, watched as Maple finished the Pentagram of her own blood around him. He could not move. The powerful Blood Magic Maple was employing restrained him.

Maple drew runes in blood then began chanting.

Pain lanced through his body everywhere as he felt his Force Strength diminished, and get smaller. He screamed, realizing she was striking the worst blow you could possibly strike to a Sith.

She was cutting him off from the Force. It was working. Desperate, he attempted some last minute mental war to force the magic from his body. But the effect was exponential. A scream of despair and hate erupted from his throat. Whatever she had done, he knew it was permanent.

"No War. No Death...no worthy death, anyway...and definitely no rebirth for you, Maple snapped, ignoring his moans of hatred as she stood up.

"I leave you to the Mercy of the Forest." She spat, walking away as he screamed heavily garbled vows of revenge with a near toothless mouth.

"Get in line." She replied, walking away.

As she headed away to retrieve her rifle and relocate, she heard a slow cap, before the familiar, rotting signature of her former Master bloomed, polluting the whole area with her very presence.

Maple turn, scowled at The Amalgam, who sat above her in a tree before leaping down.

"Esoteric Punishment. You're learning. I'm so proud of you. The Brain Demon chose wisely."

"How long were you there?" Maple asked.

*Long enough. Sorry I'm late. I had an appointment to keep with an innocent village." The Amalgam replied casually. She went to her supply bag nearby, pulling out a Sniper-Configured DC-17m.

"Those ridges out yonder look like a wonderful spot to camp. Great Nightstinger by the way. Mine's a tad more stock. Should be an interesting competition--"

"I had a different idea..." Maple said out loud.

"Oh?"

"I want you to be Spotter."

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

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 ] ​

Ingrid had plans, but the problem with the current Warden’s plans was that they might kill everyone with it. She saw, lived Rausgeber's organisms, they almost ate her alive. The NIO also wanted to destroy the Force, and apparently they weren’t interested in every Force User could dying in it. Because the Force was given by the Midiclorians, which was there in everyone, everyone could be killed by the plan. There was no evidence yet that it was not. This disturbed the woman in carrying out the plan. She didn't want to kill everyone in the galaxy because of the plan, the price was too high.

Ingrid was a great manipulator, but she didn’t do it for power, she wasn’t interested in the power, the even more strength, title, influence she could gain. She did what was necessary. She did all this for her own people and for a purpose. She was the ruler who was not interested in power and also felt the crown was just a burden.

The Empress offered the man something completely different with the manipulation, she didn't want to send him to death, and she didn't want a mindless minion. She wanted him for what he was. The woman's goals were quite different, in her eyes the man was special; the red-haired woman did not tell many to others of what she had told Zachariel. Her husbands, or best friends, didn’t know about it either, the ones she trusted unconditionally.

She saw she surprised the man with how close she stepped to him. If she wanted to hurt him, it could have been the perfect moment. But that was not among her intentions. After the woman's words, Zachariel was still unable to speak, only standing in silence for a while. During the silence, the woman watched him, waiting for an answer as the man struggled and fought with himself and his thoughts. In part, perhaps what the man finally said was true, but Ingrid offers more freedom than that. For her, ruling meant something different to most leaders.

"Not completely, I am not asking for your free will. I will accept at any time if you say no and leave. I don’t want to own you, I offer mutual cooperation."

She was still speaking softly, there was no need to be louder. The red-haired woman could almost hear the question as the constant “why” pounded in the man’s mind. No, he is not understood. As the man finally asked out loud, she smiled sadly for a moment. It was clear to her that Zachariel did not know the world the woman had come from.

"Why do I care? Because that's how it works, Zachariel. As ruler, leader, I do not rule over my people. I serve them. Every single thing I have done is done so that those who are under my protection, my soldiers, my citizens or who just work for me get the best. I’m not a tyrant, for me, their well-being is paramount. I protect them from everything if I can, and am ready to die for them at any time. On the battlefield, I fight in the front row on their side, I am one of them, I just have to take care of them too, so I can serve them. Therefore, Mr. Steelbood. If you help me, you will be no different in my eyes than the members of my people; I offer you the same as I offer to them. It may be a weakness for you, but for me, my people are important, not just usable assets and at any time, I am willing to do anything for them. I can offer this to you as well."

She spoke completely honestly, not even a word of a lie. That is why her military respected and loved her. Ingrid stroked the man's helmet once more, then let Zachariel straighten. She picked up the communicator and nodded.

"You can tell what you want later, you don’t have to decide now. I will not break my word, whenever I come for your "payment", Mr. Steelblood, I will wait for you. How confident can I be that you will stick to what I asked for?"

 

[Khaostra Devoid]

Post: 6
Objective: Ace of Spades
Equipment: Red Midnight Duster | Red Sith Armor | Sith Mask | Grav Boots | CrushGaunts | x2 White lightsabers | Forearm Lanvorak | Wrist Laser | Variety of Explosives | RSKF-44 heavy blaster | X-21 shock glove (Stored in her coat pocket)
Allies: Darth Solipsis | Kyrel Ren | Halketh | Darth Bellum
Enemies: Arctus Silmar | Darth Mori | Alisteri Haxim
Special Tags: N Nyxeris

---

Khaos stared at the woman, Khaos’s eye burning like fire as the tendrils of darkness snapped at her. W1hile the woman rose the vines that had cut into the skin felt to the ground the life seemingly sapped from them. The Brier that had grown around them on the mounds of dirt screamed at Khaos’s mind as their life was being sapped away. At first Khaos did nothing just stared at the woman who presented herself. In those words, so few words spoken it had lifted any regret or remorse Khaos might fill for killing this one.


Nyxeris had revealed herself to be not a real witch, not one who’s power came from the Ichor that bled from the dark heart of Dathomir. It became clear from the words Khaos had first spoke towards the woman the supposed rallying cry of Those who fear death will never achieve pure power was not a war cry but apart of the code those of Dathomir followed. Khaos knew the magick this one used was that twisted by the sith a lesser magick.


The tendrils snapped at her with their powerful energies and attempted to grab at her, Khaos keep backstepping however she could only backstep so far before she would have no more room to move. Her eyes did not pull away from Nyxeris staying on the false witch a sith pretending, where there was doubt and hesitation to want to kill this person it had been replaced. Nyxeris had showed her hand and in doing so had lost any thought of Mercy Khaos might have. Where Nyxeris had thought arrogance, it had been as sense of sympathy a chance for Nyxeris to plead her case as she had been bleeding out.


One of the tendrils snapped at Khoas left leg, Khaos lost balance and fell to the ground on her back and as hit the ground in a thud her sabers went flying from her hands. Then another tendril came close Khaos new full well you didn’t want to get full on touched by them, so she attempt roll away. As she did another tendril released it’s energy at her back and she went flying into her own thorny vines and plants that had grown along the mound of dirt. Thorns dug into armor and clothing pinning her there though she could command them to release she was a bit dazed, and the breath had been knocked from her lungs from being knocked around. Blood trickled from her right cheek as thrones cut into it, the haze from her dazed eyes slowly going away.


Still, she could feel the woman almost upon her and the dark Tendrils ready to strike her down. As she felt her death upon her the brier dying from having it’s energy feed on, did the only thing they could to protect the one who control them and brought them into this world. The thorns from all the plants were loaded with paralytic poison from the blood of the plants. Then like needles and darts the dying plants all along the vines fired them in the direction of Nyxeris from all around her. Some would be consumed by the dark tendrils no doubt but then again it was a last ditch effort to save the one that brought them to life in the very least it would give Khaos a moment to recover.

 

[Tegan Starfall]

Post: 2
Objective: So Human
Equipment: Mind Crown | Black MidNight Duster with Hood | Echani shield suit | Grav Boots | Eltro Life Gloves | x4 red lightsabers | Defender | Forearm Lanvorak | Wrist Laser | x2 FWG-5 Flechette Smart Pistol | Boomer | X4 Daggers | Pack of Death sticks | Various Explosives on person and in backpack | Holopad
Allies: The Mongrel
Enemies: Lady Marrow | UX-0626 | The Dying Empire
Special Tags: Lady Marrow

---

Tegan hadn’t just stood there waiting for her prey to arrive no she had several spell symbols etched on the ground and nearby by trees ready to be in acted if she needed them. She had quickly readied them as her prey sought her out. Simple logic if one used life and nature spells spells dealing with the unnatural or undeath had a sixty five percent chance of drawing out nature caster. Then again it could have fallen into thirty five percent category where they were more like Tegan and just new a crap ton of things and choose this day to use nature magick.


It wasn’t long though and Tegan was proven right her victim arrived, Tegan looking slightly up at the being. Tegan had never really seen anything like Lady Marrow before, first were always interesting for Tegan, but before she could even get a word at her this thing before her started yelling and making demands. Her orange eyes burned even hard Tegan didn’t like to be told what to d, she idd what she wanted when she wanted. Then this thing conjured for an emerald, green blade of energy, Tegan’s eyes darting to that immediately. She did not like the energy coming off that thing at all.


Tegan also noticed the two tails that were just as long or slightly longer than she was tall. Tegan wasn’t afraid but her demeanor did quickly change to one of alarm, this thing she had taunted forth had some interesting tools she would have to think about carefully. Tegan was actually shorter than Marrow by almost a good six inches though Tegan was on slightly elevated ground at the moment that made her seem taller.


Tegans head tilted to the side slightly as Marrow spouted her final words. “Many have tried to end me, I don’t know what the hell you are supposed to be but I doubt you will get the job done.” As she did that Tegan stomped her foot onto one of the symbols she carved there, and purple aura of energy flowed into it moving along the web. As it moved along the web all grass and plant life began to wither and die around Tegan slowly expanding out from her in every direction. It wouldn’t kill the whole forest, but the immediate area could. Tegan’s eyes stayed between the tails and the emerald weapon the thing had conjured.


“I guess my answer is, NO!” She cackled at her words.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Objective II: Hold Off Imperial Response​

Location: Thurra System, Orbiting Sivvi
Allies: Subject 54 Havoc | Aldo Garrick
Foes: TSE | Open

As the World Devastators descended, Tu'teggacha felt a shiver of anticipation pulse through his rubbery flesh. This had been the Maw's true masterstroke. The raiders on the planet below might seize the wealth of a dozen of Enenpa's foundries and refineries, and it would still not exceed the raw bounty that the WS-1s would rip from the planet's surface. They were the Brotherhood's next evolution: mobile factories that could keep up with their ever-expanding front line, fueled by the very substance of the planets the Maw despoiled. This would be their first deployment, but it would be far from the last.

The WS-1s were powerfully armored and shielded, and their surfaces bristled with weapons, but their tremendous size, internal capabilities, and formidable defenses made them sluggish and clumsy. They were like death itself in that way: slow, but unstoppable. Two kilometers long and nearly a kilometer in height, each was a factory city in its own right, ready to bolster the Maw's weakened fleet. When they reached Enenpa's surface, neither the defenders nor the Brotherhood raiders would know what had hit them... but no matter. The worthy would survive. Such tests ensured that the Maw did not grow stagnant.

More blaring alarms and fresh lights on the damage control readout brought the Taskmaster back to the present. Although the World Devastators were mighty, they would be damaged or destroyed if the full weight of the Sith defenders fell upon them unopposed; this blockade had to hold in order for the harvesting of Enenpa to succeed. As the enemy frigates and capital ships closed in, trying to crush the Fatalis between the defense fleet and the Sivvi moonbase, Tu'teggacha strained with all that he had to hold the little raiding flotilla together, as if he could preserve it by force of will alone.

The Festering Wound put the lie to that as it cracked in half.

Despite the best efforts of the Maw fighter screen, the Sith bombers had pounded away at the defenses of the escort frigate. By the time the lead enemy Star Destroyer had opened up on it, the vessel - a veteran of the Namaadi Corridor campaign - had nothing left to give. Escape pods streaked away from the vessel as it broke up, but not toward the rest of the raid fleet. The crew of the Wound knew that they had been dishonored, and there was only one way to repay that debt to the avatars: they piloted their pods straight at the enemy fleet, determined to meet their fates in a doomed but glorious boarding action.

The fanaticism the Dark Voice had instilled in them was inspiring.

The enemy Star Destroyers rounded on the other vessels, pushing them back; the Born of Ashes reported shields down and heavy damage across all decks, while the Crimson Offering was working desperately to seal off a breached hangar and prevent any further explosive decompression. This was the delicate balance they had to find - how many losses were too many? Could they make the resources they gained here worth the loss of one ship? Two? Four? In the moment, it was difficult to say. All Tu'teggacha knew for certain was that they were committed now. There was no turning back until this was done.

Tu'teggacha was not a believer, but he did recognize miracles.

Just as the Sith defense fleet's lead Star Destroyer moved in toward the Fatalis, looming huge in the main viewport, the proton cannon beam from the Magnus ripped into it. The enemy vessel's shields had already been weakened to the breaking point by the persistent ion fire of the Brotherhood's Doomsayer fighter-bombers... and they were no longer nearly enough to hold back Admiral Garrick's wrath. The proton beam tore through the Star Destroyer, splitting it down the middle in a colossal explosion. Debris pelted the Fatalis's shields as the rest of the enemy defense fleet turned, trying to face this terrifying new threat.

It wouldn't be easy... but perhaps they could survive this after all.

"Well done, Admiral," the Taskmaster transmitted, steepling his fingers as he contemplated his next move. "We remain under heavy fire from the Sivvi installation, and its shields resist our divided bombardment, but I have an idea." The ruined hulk of the enemy Star Destroyer, its guts ripped out by the proton beam, still drifted close by. "Engage all tractor beams," Tu'teggacha ordered. "We will cast down the corpse of their lead starship, and let gravity and kinetic energy destroy what our cannons cannot." The Fatalis locked onto the ruined enemy capital ship, steadily dragging it down toward Sivvi...

Spoiler: Fleet Composition

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	DESTROYED
Born of Ashes, a Skor III-class Artillery Frigate	Blockading Sivvi

 

[UX-0626]

Location: Industrial Depot - Enenpa
Allies: TSE ( Lady Marrow ) │ CIS ( Maple Harte )
Enemies: BotM ( The Mongrel Tegan Starfall Alars Keto )
Direct Opposition: The Mongrel

Blind, enraged, and desperate to cut off the head of the veritable snake, UX-0626 was almost heedless to the Mongrel’s hands gripping her arm, the man using her own leverage as a means to slip out from underneath her form. Yet still unable to see her opponent, the strand-cast could now only act which resulted in her plunging both of her knuckleplate vibroblades into the thick frame of the lumber-harvesting droid, guessing incorrectly that her opponent had stood up, rather than escaping underneath the droid as he had actually done. With a frustrated grunt, the strand-cast moved to pull out the blades, managing to extract one, before using that free hand to throw off her helmet, deciding that awareness was more important than protection, especially if the Mongrel had managed to get behind her.

Fortunately, to her relief, but also slight disappointment, he hadn’t. However, she did see something else.

The Moon Children were heard before they were seen, their pained, feral grunts still fresh in her mind from Csilla, especially as she had been forced to put down a couple which had ended up attacking her squad during the evacuation. While they were not soldiers, the strand-cast had seen the way people died in facing them, their bodies mangled beyond recognition, ripped apart by durasteel blades and sharp teeth.

Already, a pack of the creatures was closing in on her position, while her knuckleplate vibroblade was still stuck inside the frame of the droid. Planting her legs, the strand-cast grunted as she worked to pull it out. All the while, their feral screeches and grunts grew more intense, spurring the strand-cast to simply break the blade with a harsh, metallic snap, before flying up and attempting to move out of reach of their durasteel claws. However, just as she did, one of the frenzied clones grabbed hold of her wrist and bit down on two of her fingers, eliciting a sharp cry from the strand-cast’s lips. A second grabbed her leg, very nearly pulling her back to the ground were it not for her sonic stunner, discharging a pair of powerful sound waves which threw the creature back. Unfortunately, the first still retained a strong grip on her arm, sharp teeth biting down harder on her fingers as she flew up, ripping them from her hand in a spray of crimson fluid as she took off into the air, down two fingers, but otherwise in one piece.

However, still dazed and cut off from comms due to the loss of her helmet, it was only then that the strand-cast remembered her squad, men and women that were now her responsibility, who she had abandoned in pursuit of a figurehead.

She could only pray that they were still alive.

Spoiler: Loadout

• "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 - Empty
    • 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
• “Judicator” Adaptive Battle Rifle - Battle Pickup
• FAE/M-01 “Scherezade” Energized Vibroblade (2)
• Impact Grenade (2)

 

[Lady Marrow]

Tag: Tegan Starfall
Equipment: The Marrow Blade

There would be no second chances, no options for taking it back, as bone-like chitin would coalesce around her back, forearms tails and the lower half of her face covering her mouth and nose like a shell, forming something not unlike natural scale. The plating was layered like that of a lizard but exaggerated in such a manner that it layered almost like that of regular armour. Rough ridges forming small razor-blade sharp spines that could tear and rip what happened to grace them... crouching down into a three point stance, she would smile beneath her features, her enemy had already admitted that she had no idea what she was, as her scything talons at the ends of her twin tailed comet tails would flick open and close like bladed fins, dripping with Purified haemotoxin.

"Then I guess I should inform you... I'm a Marrow."

Dashing with the coiled preternatural proportional speed of a lizard, Lady Marrow would intend to be on top of her opponent faster than the stones from where she stood would hit the ground after her claws tore them up. Her stance was crouched, low and earthed, like that of a bear or an animal of the natural world as opposed to a human. But she benefited by being significantly taller than her opponent. That was bad for her, Lady Marrow would have reach, physical strength, speed, weight and grounding as her advantages over this person. But with the magic people like they could wield, there was always the opportunity for surprise.

Lady Marrow would channel the force along the shell surrounding her tails, feeling them harden to the likes of energy as she would land, taking a knee high sweep for Tegan's knees, a distraction, her skill with a saber was fleeting at best, though she had fought two opponents who were versed in the sword, consuming portions of their minds that allowed her to tap into their skill. It seemed, alien however, she didn't have the experience to blur their experience and apply it to herself, so her technique would come across as raw, and amateurish but efficient... in its own way to a trained swordsman.

At the apex of her swing however, she would leap backwards, her spare hand placed on the ground behind her as she would perform an expert hand-planted somersault, both of her tails whipping upward at her opponent as their scything talons would attempt to bite into the underneaths of Tegan's arms, tearing out ligaments, sinew, arteries and tendons while administering the poison they were coated with. Though their strike was incoming, it was in the nature of the tails to coil and wrap around objects in their way.

Should her attack be foiled or uninterrupted, she would lurch forward again with a flurry of her blade, a standard three point strike aimed like the angles of a triangle to target her extremities. The force flowed through her tails, twisted with them, making them weapons that could contend with the energy weapons of the modern universe.

It'd begun.​

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Objective //: History Repeats //:
//: Target //: TK-818 //: Maestus //:
//: Allies //: TSE //: Alina Tremiru //:
Save yourself

Blood poured from the wound; Quinn could see that her arm was useless now as it hung against her body. Her clothing was warm and yet cold as her blood soaked the fabric. She coughed after her feet landed from the jump; more blood soaked the ground in front of her. It wasn't looking good for her, but she needed to keep it together. Her empathy flared; she could sense the rage fueling Alina as she attacked the Ren that had struck her.

Quinn's eyes trailed towards the Twi'lek that had spoken. Seeing that she was trying something with Alina, she straightened her posture and held out her hand, mind focusing on the red woman's. The Force beckoned to the girl's command as she created a mental spear that would attempt to drive itself into the Twi'lek's mind. Quinn was angry; she was mad at herself for falling into the Ren's line of sigh and putting Alina in danger.

The mental attack splintered, several more mental shards would try and strike at the Sith Lord's psyche. But, if anything, Quinn hoped to prevent whatever the Sith was trying to do to Alina - if she could just distract her long enough for the Vampiress to take out the Ren, they would have the advantage.​

 

[Rynn Vizsla]

// 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.​

​

Another burst from his Phoenician wings brought the Mandalorian Warrior ever-closer towards the Great Ziggurat. While it would’ve been faster to utilize his jetpack and soar through the heavens at full-burn, such an expedient advance was ill-advised. Rynn knew next to nothing about the defences that were housed within the reborn temple, and charging headlong into the fray would have amounted to rushing into his grave. Thus, a more cautious approach needed to be taken. He would keep moving from one emptied building to the next, doing whatever he could to remain out of sight. When there was little cover to move through, the Rally Master then, and only then, activated his jetpack to leap across whatever gaps in cover lay afore him.

After nearly an hour of leap-frogging his way through the streets of Hurom, now devoid of life, the Mandalorian finally reached the base of the grand, stepped structure. The hardened and reinforced stone was cool to the touch, even through the padding of his armoured gloves. It wasn’t because of the external temperature, Rynn mused. Likely, the cold sensation came from the countless evils committed on this benight world, saturating the very foundations of the imposing structure. When coupled with the foreknowledge that this was scoured clean in some battle between Godlings? Well, the Mandalorian could believe such deeds were the cause of this newfound discomfort.

Tentatively, the Rally Master withdrew his gloved hand, and slowly began scouring the external surface of the Ziggurat for a viable ingress.

His helmet’s scanners activated with a nigh-audible whine before bathing the Ziggurat’s surface with their technologically-enhanced gaze. There were several routes that the Mandalorian could take, but many of them were either populated with flaring hostile signatures, or prime targets for the crimson-hued lightning overhead. With such factors in play, the Rally Master’s options were whittled down to a single entry point somewhere up above. While it was the furthest from ideal, that entry point would allow him to slip into the Ziggurat. Whether it would be unseen or not was anyone’s guess, as the thick stones were difficult to penetrate with his Helmet’s auto-senses. For all Rynn knew, the Sith could be hiding an entire army within the vaulted corridors of the Ziggurat.

The Mandalorian let out a short exhalation, banishing the doubt and conjecture that were building within his mind. If there was an army waiting for him within that vile structure, they would be at a disadvantage. Their numbers would count for nothing, as the terrain denied them every advantage. Sure, they could swarm their foes - if required. But, such recklessness would only see their lifeless bodies become nothing but obstacles for their comrades to surmount. In truth, with slaughtering so many soldiers within a confined space, one could effectively halt their advance - literally choking the corridor with fresh corpses.

When the Warrior inhaled, his Phoencian wings roared once more. The ascent was rapid, as one could expect, but as the jet’s extinguished their mighty flames? The rushing plummet was all the quicker. Rynn threw an armoured gauntlet out to help slow his meteoric fall, but the micronized beskar plating scraped against the weathered surface of the stone - unable to grant the Mandalorian purchase. A sliver of panic shot through the Warrior’s mind, before it was quashed by the memories of his muscles. His mind was momentarily sluggish, but his body - honed over a proverbial lifetime - elected to take charge. The hand that skated across the surface of the Ziggurat threw itself before him. Now outstretched, the repulsor affixed to his vambrace cycled to life - before firing at the crenulated surface below.

The force of artificial gravity that was projected from his vambrace was enough to arrest some of his downward momentum, but not all of it. That was where the concussion padding within his armour’s lower extremities took hold, blunting the shock of his boots kissing the weathered surface of the Ziggurat. Through a force of disciplined habit, the Rally Master took several steps forward and through his armoured frame against the wall. His chosen ingress was the furthest thing from conventional. While others would’ve gone for various sally-ports, or entrances situated around the structure’s foundations, Rynn’s armour saw something else that bore a measure of merit.

If the Mandalorian’s sensors were right, and if his hunch bore fruit, the Rally Master would’ve found himself on a balcony - situated outside the middling quarters of some person that once belonged to the Sith-Imperial nobility. Such an assumption was fueled by where the quarters were located, and by the impressive view their domicile commanded over the once-bustling city proper. That assumption was further uplifted when Rynn chanced a look inside. His crimson-hued visor peeked around the lip of the stonework, only to spot the lavish contents of the Lordly quarters. Embroidered sheets, coupled with aurodium filigree, were the first amongst many fineries that the Rally Master saw. Clearly, whomever this person was - was someone of worthy repute.
​

At least within the vaunted ranks of the Empire.​

Seeing that the chambers were empty, Rynn advanced into the Ziggurat proper. He unslung his particle rifle and thumbed the cycler; priming the weapon for combat. Though the chamber itself was devoid of anything hostile, who knew what resided beyond it’s sealed door. With every step taking him deeper and deeper into the labyrinthine construct, that vile unease he felt outside began to build in the recesses of his mind. It was best to be prepared, rather than being caught unaware when evil itself reared its ugly visage.​

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Location: Bloodwoods
Objective: Du-du-du-duel!
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim
Weapons: Sword | Axe​

Everyone plans for the future, but it's leaders who plan using others the most. They manipulate others, whether they know it or not, whether they truly believe in their cause or not. The best leaders are those where their followers don't know they're being used, but actually believe in their cause. In Zachariel's case, he usually didn't mind being used to simply slaughter away, as it brought him joy to do so, it was part of his very purpose in life. From the moment of his rebirth, he had gone from mission to mission, killing those he was directed to, and eventually growing free to do as he pleased, all for more information. Often though, others believed they had fooled him, though in fact, Zachariel simply didn't care.

As time went on however, Zachariel had realized more and more often what needed to be done in this galaxy, and had set that as his personal goal. More and more of his missions revolved around it, his choices led him to that singular mission. Ultimately he came to the Maw, finding them to be suitable, and having similar beliefs in many ways. With them, it was also very clear that each warlord, each person had their own plans and agendas, all somehow revolving with the Maw and its beliefs. So Zachariel continued to play along, continued his mission of exterminating the old and weak Jedi and Sith, of destroying the weakness of the galaxy. It fit perfectly with everything else that the Maw stood for, so well that others helped bring about this new age of death and rebirth.

True goals were often hidden though, as it was so much simpler to go along with a wider plan than explain your own constantly. In this case, Zachariel was glad that Ingrid's true goals were so plainly stated, it made things easier, but it also made him suspicious and curious why she was so open. It also made sense at the same time, so closely entwined were they now, both physically and in motivation. And, at the very least, she didn't want to control him fully, only direct him towards common objectives. That was something Zachariel could tolerate, as it was similar to what he already had with the Maw. And then she answered why she cared so much.

She spoke of her ways and why exactly she did what she did, and it served to highlight once more how different they were. To her, she was a tool to serve and protect her people, willing to sacrifice everything for them. She earned their respect by doing the same things she asked of them, by doing anything for them. Zachariel was so different in that respect, as those that followed him were tools to be used to further his mission. A handful he would go the extra mile for, but the rest were mere tools to be sent to the slaughter. In the case of the Maw, this was more true than any other time. It was a mentality that had been in him since his training, one that had ensured much success. However, he did see her truthfulness, and did realize that it might be useful for one such as her, where power wasn't absolutely required to lead, as was his case.

"There we're different once more, though we both would do anything to see the mission fulfilled. If I am no different than your people, I suppose that means I'd become one of them, a true model citizen of the Eternal Empire." The last line is spoken with some amusement, mirth not befitting the situation, but nonetheless there. And then he focuses his mind as he speaks and she responds, finally prompting another answer. "An answer to that will take time, though I will answer it eventually. As for that, you can be very confident. Helping you is far more beneficial than betraying you, as our goals align. None will know of this discussion, though a meeting will take time, whether with the entire leadership, or the Voice himself. There is more at play in that regard, as every one of the warlords and leaders of the Maw have their own agendas, including the Voice. He is also more than a simple priest, though the details remain lost to me."

He took a small, half step back then, putting some distance between them. Looking her over shortly, Zachariel focused on her eyes again, helm lenses blazing bright for a moment, then dimming somewhat as he speaks once more.
"We have been doing this for a long time, Lady Ingrid, and the timeframe will continue to grow longer, even as we march ever closer to that final victory."