Junction Mustafar: Legacies | EE/AC/BotM/GA Juncion of Mustafar/Jaminere/Ord Bostadus/Mechis III (SGHW)

[Thomas Barran]

1st post

MUSTAFAR: LEGACIES
OBJECTIVE: HOLD THE LINE

BLOODHOUND

TRIBAL WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS
WARDEN OF RHIGAR AND MAR'ZAMBUL
FOUNDER OF THE TRI-LUNAR CLIQUE

LOADOUT
Beskar Brodie-Helm
Durasteel Cuirass
Fragarach-Model Heavy Disruptor Pistol
Beskar Romphaia
Rusty Old Fairbairn

Allies (BOTM/NSO): Keilara Kala'myr

Attackers (EE/GA/Hex): Jas Katis Elaena Kessia Miran Dylan Marsek

FEAR THE OMEN, FIGHT THE MAN: A BLOODHOUND STORY - PART 1

THE TERMINAL, WESTERN OUTSKIRTS,
THE FORGE, MUSTAFAR (SPRING OF 877 ABY)

Interesting place.... A shame they're here to destroy it though.​

From the very moment the Scar Hounds landed, the new Warlord couldn't help but marvel at the sheer scale of fortification and defensive construction of almost every sort, it was obvious within moments that decades upon decades of work had gone into the city, and especially so much that there would be more at their disposal since Mustafar first climbed to prominence as a legitimate planetary entity in it's own right.

<"Brothers an' sisters, this is the Bloodhound. These Core-World softies are making a poor job of rattling us, abysmal effort in all honesty.... We must show them how, we must horrify our attackers, so I've devised a plan that will do just that.">​

'Better be payin' attention to this, Tri-Lunars.... Honestly, you're gonna love this one.'

<"Putting it simply.... I want this city to become Ambush-Central, the city of screams! SO AS OF RIGHT THIS SECOND, THE FORGE WILL BECOME OUR BLACK CAULDRON!!!!">​

As for how much work the Brotherhood had put since, Barran couldn't say for sure, as the Scar Hounds, excessive though their efforts had been since they first struck out against the Galaxy, had not been known for putting work into the Terminal or even for showing face near it. This would be a fresh experience for the Bloodhound and his subordinates alike, and in the realisation that victory would assure their interests in the fortified city at the very least, the one-eyed Woad shook his head and sighed at the prospect of rebuilding from rubble, not too fond of being on the receiving end of the wanton for a change but still somewhat willing to plant the roots of an outpost in the area. And just as other Mawsworn elements had before him, the Omen of Durace would vow to make this a staging point for the next phase of the Scar Hounds' evolution in galactic warfare, Barran's means of showing his enemies who had risen from the Ashes of the Mongrel's reign, as others around them were expressing their ascensions' statements of intent in their mentors' stead.

<"FOR ALL YOU OWE THE AVATARS, YOU MUST AWAKEN THE MURDEROUS VOICES IN YOUR MINDS!!!! LET THE WARRIORS WITHIN YOU REST FOR A WHILE, I WANT THE MURDERERS INSTEAD, I WANT THE SERIAL-KILLERS REIGNING SUPREME NOW - I WANT THAT THAT WICKED PART OF YOUR SOUL LURKING IN THE SHADOWS!!!!">​

This was their moment, their chance to show the Galaxy that the Brotherhood were far from done yet, as the very tethers of secrecy and self-preservation of the faction's first generations (strong and perpetually applied though they had been to the last moment) would still have no reason to restrain their greatest weapons any longer; and when such greats of the Maw perished in service to the Great Cycle, the very people who achieved such glorious victories in single and open combat alike would find themselves falling prey to the true horrors thereafter, destined to suffer at the hands of the evils they freed in the acts of slaying the only ones who could keep such evil in check. Lucky were those who had survived people like the Mongrel, and luckier still were those who slew the Maw's Dark Lord atop the Akar Kesh, but the acolytes who followed would not allow such luck to stand for long.

'Alright then, Tri-Lunars. Go an' set up some horrors with the playing-pieces we brought with us.... Delight me with your guile, show these invaders what they fear the most.'

<"Sir, this is Mercy. I have collected the usual data, if you need it, I will send you and your strategists too. In addition, the Eternal Empire, Ashlan Crusade, and the Galactic Alliance have arrived, and most of them are still heading for Forge, Gahenn Droid Foundry or the Fortress Vader.">

<"Good news at face value anyways. Divided efforts could play into our hands, so this works for me.... Let me know if anything else pops up, I'll be around. Bloodhound out!">​

And with that, as the last visual traces of the others slipped out of view, Thomas went running into the city, sneaking off in search of worthy prey. And before long, the one-eyed Woad would find himself lost in the maze of reinforced Duracrete, waiting for the gate-crashers to show face in their own time. All as according to the pacing Thomas was looking for at the time, requiring his hunting methods to be quiet, slow and tense like a spring until the right moments to strike were presented to him along the way. And as the Scar Hounds hooted, cheered and roared at the prospect of unreserved, unsupervised autonomy, Barran sniggered in anticipation of the ultraviolence he had just instigated, understanding exactly what sort of Hell he would be unleashing by dragging the opposition into such a battle.

The conventional defence-strategy would be abandoned almost completely, as it was already considered much too wasteful of lives to hold the line with what they had, and considered useless for drawing the attackers into the perfect setting for an urban cauldron; so the chance for the pioneers of Technobarbarism to throw out their reliance on comrades and orders alike, and as irregular as the order seemed, was viewed by the majority as an opportunity to inflict losses on an unprecedented scale. The defensive fights against the Galaxy didn't come around very often, so Barran himself would be grateful of the opportunity to prove his true worth in the attempt to stem the galactic tide, holding back the waves of aggression in the streets on his own terms, happily giving the tribe something of shock-value to remember him by.

Of their fates on this planet, and all it's splendour as far as they can see....

Let Mustafar become their tomb - their Mausoleum.​

 

[Alessandra Io]

Location: Catacombs, Fortress Vader - Mustafar
Objective: Under Siege - Bathe in Mawite Blood
Dialogue Legend: <<Technopathy Link>> │ “Verbal”
Tags: Erion Justeene

The Chaplain had no grand mission or purpose on Mustafar, but to slay the murderous agents of the Maw.

Alessandra quickly found her way into the catacombs that led towards the inside of the castle, her photoreceptors penetrating the darkness to guide her ahead. The sensors integrated into the neck piece of her bodysuit told her that she wasn’t the only one here. There had been rumors of a ritual transpiring within the Fortress, which Alessandra had been made aware of. If they proved to be true, there would be no shortage of Mawites for the HRD to kill, which was her sole purpose in being here.

Perhaps blood and the stimulation of violence could heal the grief in her synthetic soul from Ameliora’s death. And if not? Then at the very least, she could bathe in blood and forget that the pain existed, even if only for a few moments.

After that, she would go searching for the next hit, like an addict caught in an unending loop of bliss, agony, and vicious, mortal struggle.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Eversor Bodysuit
  
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Eversor Rings
• Tönn Rándýrsins | Fang of the Predator (2)

 

[Ari Naldax]

Equipment: AKraB Vibrodagger, Corporis Skin Suit, Feverwasp Particle Blaster Pistol, Survival Kit
Allies: GA
Enemies: MAW
Tags: Khione

​

Alarms blared throughout the cockpit as Ari slammed her fist against the Astromech-Eject Button, sending her astromech flying upwards, and into the flight path of Nemesis' Support Craft. "No, no No... KARK IT!" The X-wing began to violently roll into an inverted flat spin as its engines sputtered in and out of life and the ship got ever closer to the volcanic hellscape that was Mustafar. That damned songbird from the Brotherhood had rammed a torpedo right into her X-wing's engine cluster. As the engines considered to blink and shake, inertial compensators were the next system to go black, and Ari's whole body was slung to right side of her cockpit as the ship continued spinning and falling towards the surface.

The pedal to activate emergency power was right to the left of her yaw pedals as she streched out her foot - which was many times heavier than it normally would've been, if only she could... just... get.. a little... "Yes!" Pumping it a few times to get the emergency power supply running, Ari looked over her systems. There was no way she was going to get the main engines or shields going, but if she could just get the compensator back online.... Right as she began to pull herself straight, still straining against a few Gs unabated by the weaker dampners, flames danced up the glass of her cockpit as the X-Wing, still in its flat spin, slowly began to enter the hellish atmosphere below. Putting whatever power she still had into her Repulsors, she was able to just barely pull the X-wing out of a spin and into a dive, using what little aerodynamic and repulsor advantage she had to bring the X-wing hard into the black volcanic dirt.

As soon as The X-wing came to a stop, flames bursting from, Ari hit the button for the ship's beacon and jettisoned her canopy, grabbing her knife and survival kit and throwing herself overboard. She grabbed her head as she hit the ground - that landing must've rung my bell more than I thought. Kneeling down to catch her breath and wipe the blood off one of her knuckles and sweat off her brow, Ari grabbed her blaster and dagger out of the kit before throwing it around her back, putting them in a belt holster and thigh sheathe respectively. Seeing another smoke plume on the other side of a ridge, She began to walk into that direction, It could just be debris or some vent - but if it was one of her pilots down, she needed to see what she could do to help. Dragging herself up to stand, she began to tentatively march up the ridge towards the plume, every step feeling harder than the last as the dizziness from heat and impact started to wear off.

 

[Kybo Ren]

Location: Gahenn Droid Factory
Allies: Maw
Enemies: Everyone else, Rolin Doan

While Kyrel Ren and the other warriors of the Ren were holed up in the Fortress preparing the ritual, Kybo had been given orders to prevent the capture of the Factory. With his lord's return to Mustafar and intention to expand the Knights' influence again, the vast output of the Droid Factory would be critical to such plans. Kybo's smuggling network had managed to receive word of the imminent attack, and by the Shadow, it was a massive one. While the battle in orbit unfolded and armies landed to secure the Forge, Kybo and a group of his pirates were moving with haste to secure the Factory. As they reached the place, Tu'teggacha was already there, supervising the unloading of raw materials and the imminent destruction of the place.

Came all thisaway just to stand around...

Kybo barked orders to his men to assist the Taskmaster in carrying off the supplies. Kybo had a healthy respect for the eldritch lord: as any successful pirate understood, all enterprises are built on a foundation of logistics and supplies, and after the debacle on Exegol, it was increasingly clear the Brotherhood only held together because of charisma and an overworked stream of supplies to arm the tribes.

Kybo stalked over to the south landing pad of the factory, facing the lava fields, setting his own booby traps and explosives while keeping an eye on any Jedi or soldier foolish enough to attempt an attack from this side of the factory. If they were going to attempt a direct infiltration, it would be here.

 

[IVI]

-

-----BEGIN ENCRYPTION---
TU#%$UFJFJw554
-----END ENCRYPTION-----
....displaying_transmission_OPERATION_HEARTSEEKER

:// O P E R A T I O N HEARTSEEKER: BLACK_IRON
Tiric Sar'andor | Rika Hiro | OPEN
LOCATION: MUSTAFAR | GAHENN DROID FOUNDRY​

OBJECTIVE:

1. RECOVER DROID SCHEMATICS AND ALL CONTACTS FROM OUTBOUND AND INBOUND COMMUNICATIONS.
2. ACCESS AND DOWNLOAD RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT DATA

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT: Reports have come in of allied personnel's intent to access the foundry. Do not engage with allies.

download map?....Y/N

License to Kill: Granted to Brotherhood of The Maw personnel only. ​

The mission brief was attached to all dispatched personnel. The leader of a new group, eager to prove themselves to the director, and a solo agent who'd recently escalated in ranks. M had her eye diligently on both, and from her office, remained connected to each of them.

Those she was not actively connected to, Task Force Xesh, had been issued the same briefing as all the other agents. With a quantumly encrypted addendum:

password: gjj$#%%kj99 Authenticating credentials... Confirmed Encrypted recipient: Boluc Laar Encrupted recipient: Maijan Paisea SIA_TASK_FORCE_XESH connection... Established Accessing file '/sia/operations/into_the_maw/heartseeker' ... Done Reading Package list... Done -----BEGIN ENCRYPTION--- TU#%$UFJFJw554 -----END ENCRYPTION----- OBJECTIVE: RECOVER DROID SCHEMATICS AND ALL CONTACTS FROM OUTBOUND AND INBOUND COMMUNICATIONS. If the facility cannot be secured by allies, set to destruct. Permission to engage all parties. If compromised, activate self-deniability sequences.

 

[Maijan Paisea]

TASK FORCE XESH

THE ILLUSIONIST
MUSTAFAR | GAHENN PLAINS | GAHENN DROID FACTORY

​

Maijan was deeply concerned that she would melt. The gold of her skin was blistering, shiny and softer than normal, from the absurd heat radiating from the lava. And her throat was so dry, that she couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to swallow normally.

"We have a choice. Eitherrrr I make us invisible, or the explosives. It cannot be both unforrrrtunately."

She looked at her hands and turned them over. They were in fact, not melting as she might have suspected, but the heat was certainly affecting her ability to concentrate.

The White Current ebbed and flowed all around them, even on this dark, dark planet. As an example of how much more useful it would be to hide themselves rather than what they left behind, Maijan crouched and wedged the charge she'd been issued — nonbranded — into a crevice that would easily go unnoticed by patrols.

As a sort of voila, she rose, extended her arms, and flashed her fingers at it.

"Which'll it be, boss."

---

ALLIES | Boluc Laar | ABOUT TO RUN INTO: Tiric Sar'andor | (PROXIMITY MAYBE? Rika Hiro )
FOES | OPEN

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Commodore Cynthia Alucard
Objective Four: Racing with time
Actions: Preparing to attack as the fleet advances

Spoiler: Fleet Strength:

(Flag Ship) Strict Justice Hydian-class Tactical Carrier
Terrible Star CR-37 FarStar-Type Corellian Carrier
Cruel Justice CR-37 FarStar-Type Corellian Carrier
7x Starbird-class Patrol Ship
20x Squadrons SS01 X-wing Space Superiority Starfighter
8x Squadrons B-wing Assault Starfighter

​

​

Time, the great enemy of all, a futile effort to even attempt to stop time or let alone give oneself more time. But slowing time down? Well that’s a tool often used. Cynthia kept her gaze on the star-map on her bridge. The situation of prisoner rescue was a delicate one, the ultimate goal was to after all rescue all prisoners of the Alliance, but Cynthia’s own realistic expectations was to minimize her battle group’s casualties. As far as she was concerned, her orders were to assure the safety of the escorts traveling back to the fleet. And to keep any enemy ships off of the flanks. ​

​

The whole ordeal reeked of political overtures and public perception campaigns as Cynthia honestly thought the idea of the Maw Zealots taking any captives as prisoners was far-fetched. She had read many reports of the enemy’s cruelty towards not just Alliance soldiers but to Alliance citizens and the such, to hear that they kept prisoners of war alive, let alone sane, made Cynthia very incredulous. Well I guess we won’t know if they’re spies or doppelgangers or sleeper agents until we rescue them. With that thought she returned her attention to the Star-map once again. ​

​

The rest of the Alliance fleet was nearby and as was an Ashlan Crusade fleet, the intelligence report also included prisoners from the Ashlan territories. The war certainly had brought together a far reaching group of governments and militaries. In fact this type of response to a threat hadn’t been since the height of the Bryn’s nearly endless assaults of the Southern Eastern region of the galaxy. And even then, I believe the Maw’s rampage of the Northern Galaxy has only just begun. Cynthia worried that the end of this conflict was still quite a bit away, and the conclusion would only reveal a level of destruction never before seen. ​

​

Cynthia sharply turned to address the nearby Comms Officer, “-Have the Squadron Leaders given the green light to deploy?”​

​

“Awaiting ready in the hangar to launch on your orders.” The Officer quickly snapped back an answer. ​

​

She nodded once, “Have the Fighters deploy as a screen for the Corvettes, the Bombers ready for on-call strike orders.” ​

​

The Comm Officer nodded and quickly delivered the orders to the Pilots waiting in the hangars. The Alliance would not blame the failure of the rescue on the Navy, that was something Cynthia would make sure. Carefully placing both her hands behind her back, she stared into the star-map to watch the battlefield continue to develop. ​

​

|| Marlon Sularen | Isla Draellix-Kobitana ||

 

[Akemi Io]

​

Communication "verbal" <<technopathy>>​

Objective: Enter facility and steal some secrets
Tag: solo mission, open to dm

Loadout:
Loralora interceptor swoop
Gei Borugu Electro Spear
Light Saber (peony colour blade)
Laser Lance
Q7 encrypted data-spike

24 x Nuetralizer Model 2

Akemi was beginning to enjoy working alongside the Eternal Empire, they are an interesting faction, and their battles had given her fascinating data with which to play around with. She had learned from her mother that the Eternal Empire were invading this old rock and that there was a temple to a long dead Sith Lord here. It was likely a treasure trove of old technology and information, maybe she could find some 900 year old droid to play with, that could be fun. So she had brought her still under construction ship, made planet fall and was now just beginning to infiltrate the structure.

Accompanying her were two dozen Model 2s, just in case there was resistance to her presence but also to provide a bit of muscle if she found something juicy she wanted to steal. The Eternal Empire had already penetrated the facility so Akemis path to the fortress itself was mostly clear, she just had to make her way through a service door and into the bowels of the facility. It was not a difficult task for a machine as advanced as Akemi, the security had obviously been updated over the years, but she had managed to whip her way through it and now controlled much of the low level security systems in this part of the fortress. She dragged her Spear along the dark walls, <<hmm, too dark, let's improve that.>> With a twitch of her head she edited the data from her photoreceptors to something a little more pleasing, <<much better>> she now perceived her surroundings as much brighter and more colourful than their actual appearance, her mind still processed the raw information so nothing would be hidden by this augmentation, but she just felt happier exploring this more inviting surrounding.

Ahead of her was a large computer terminal. She pulled her spike off of her waist and approached it. <<let's start here shall we>>

 

[Ronar]

Location: The Terminal, Western Outskirts, The Forge, Mustafar
Objective: Hold the line, destroy the invaders
Allies: Thomas Barran , Keilara Kala'myr
Enemies: Dylan Marsek , Jas Katis , Elaena Kessia Miran

Loadout:
Glie-44 Blaster Pistol
Cortosis Sword
Bloodreaver - Vibroaxe
Bone Armor

Contingent:
The Violet Wolves - Trained Mawite troopers x4
Assorted Scar Hounds warriors x100

Finally, Ronar was back in his element.

It had been truly an exercise in patience and control, being forced to hold himself back while those above him maneuvered and positioned in the aftermath of the disaster at Tython. As necessary as it was, Ronar hated grand strategy. His father had been a master of it, always capable of utilizing his vast resources to the greatest effect to destroy and debilitate his opposition, whether on the battlefield or in the council hall. Ronar's older brother, the true heir, had also been well-versed in large-scale tactics, trained personally as he was by their father since infancy. Ronar couldn't help but grin at the thought of his siblings. For all their training, all their gifts, all their status, it was Ronar who had survived the destruction of their clan. Ronar, and no one else.

Ronar, for his part, was still capable of directing a larger force; experience and trial had ensured that. But he was most comfortable just like this, charging into battle at the head of a small column, only a few hundred strong, relying on speed, mobility, and absolute savagery. Ronar had some steam to blow off from the defeat on Tython, and this was the perfect circumstances in which to do so. As he exited the transport that had brought him and his men from the staging area to the front lines, he looked back on his assembled force. Besides the Violet Wolves, the survivors of Tython that were slowly growing into his bodyguards and personal troops, he had a small contingent of Scar Hound cyborgs placed under his command by the Bloodhound, the only man in all the galaxy to which Ronar owed respect. To most, a paltry force. To Ronar, endless possibility.

"Hear me, Scar Hounds!" he called out to the assembled force, "Today, it is to us that falls the burden of defense! The enemy is great, but they lack our courage, our fortitude, our rage! We shall not falter!" There was a cheer from those assembled, and Ronar basked in it. Ever since joining the Scar Hounds, in essence becoming a warchief himself, Ronar had discovered that he enjoyed the position. He enjoyed the adoration of his men, their respect, and the knowledge and assurance that he, Ronar, was the strongest among them. As Ronar was about to continue, the words of the Bloodhound echoed in his earpiece, hastily attatched to the inside of his bone-armored helmet during its repairs from the fierce fighting at Tython.

"Brothers an' sisters, this is the Bloodhound. These Core-World softies are making a poor job of rattling us, abysmal effort in all honesty.... We must show them how, we must horrify our attackers, so I've devised a plan that will do just that."

'Better be payin' attention to this, Tri-Lunars.... Honestly, you're gonna love this one.'

"Putting it simply.... I want this city to become Ambush-Central, the city of screams! SO AS OF RIGHT THIS SECOND, THE FORGE WILL BECOME OUR BLACK CAULDRON!!!!"

"You heard the Bloodhound!" Ronar continued, "Yesterday, you were like a wave, crashing upon the enemy defenses with an unrelenting force!" Ronar could barely hold back his excitement. Such small unit tactics were his forte, his specialty. Battle upon battle he had wielded their power. Today would truly be his magnum opus.

"But today, you are not a wave, you are the horrors that lie beneath!" he declared to the surrounding men, "You are sharks! Find your group, stay small, and strike where you smell the blood in the water. With this we shall wear our enemy down, before it is time to go for the final kill!" Another cheer, as the assembled Scar Hounds began breaking off into smaller contingents of five to ten men. Within moments they melted away, taking to the streets to prepare for the onslaught. Ronar himself turned to his Violet Wolves, all of whom stared back with eyes that echoed those of their commander.

"Wolves," Ronar said simply, "Its time to hunt."

 

[Kyrel Ren]

​

Location: Sith Cave, Fortress Vader
Allies: Maw/Sith
Enemies: Ingrid L'lerim


The dark whispers called to him from the surrounding of rock and the monoliths used to access the true secret of the Fortress. He would accomplish two things today, first the destruction of the uninvited guests that sought to claim his domain, the second ultimately being the answers he desperately needed for what the future held. What he needed most of all was some sort of hope. Hope to gain some form of control, to gain the power he craved the most and most of all to burn this karking galaxy to the ground.

Even as he stood before what could be described as the rituals altar, he felt the clash of light and dark once more on this world. Mustafar was a dark side locus that seemed to constantly draw the Jedi to the world as much as the Sith. The two in a constant clash on the helish world. The Sith language ever so tempting him to activate the ritual he felt someone approach closely. Someone that followed him into the expansive tunnel system of the catacombs someone he felt like an equal to him.

He wondered if he would have someone who would bare witness to the ritual. He stopped listening to the whispers, instead he focused on the hunger nearby that was already familiar not unlike his own. The only difference was that this one held back. Strange was it that someone would try not to embrace the monster in them. He stood still, waiting to see when this figure would come to greet him. The energies of a battle raging outside could be felt, a mixture of energies all colliding at once on this world. The conflict itself would work best to feed the dark side and the ritual itself before destroying them all.

He turned around to finally face his uninvited guest. She emerged out of the shadows, meeting his irritated scowl with a cocky gaze that showed her determination. Reaching out he was surprised that she was the same signature he felt that carried the familiar hunger. She spoke with arrogance, as she attempted to mock him. Kyrel stood still as a statue making no moves against her… yet. “Let me guess… the Eternal Empress herself has come to greet me…” He said with a rough growl. “You do realize you won’t stop what is to come, you really should understand my plans after all from a fellow devourer. You may not be a monster yet but I’ve been wanting to meet you for a very long time now.” As if to insult the Empress he turned around, his hand on the rune engraved stone to begin the ritual. He spoke again with his back towards her. “Do you know what this place is? What it can do? It’s more than Vader’s Fortress…. Vader sought to use the Netherworld for his purposes… Even to bring back the dead… Think of the possibilities.” He said taking the route of diplomacy rather than outright fighting her. He turned around to meet her gaze never shying away from her. If he could convince her than both his enemies would die and his plans would come to fruition.

 

[Erion Justeene]

Location: Catacombs, Fortress Vader, Mustafar
Equipment: Lightsaber, Voidsaber, SHT-26 "Bedevil" Heavy War Bike
Tags: Alessandra Io

Mustafar, the half molten lava world, where even the planet will kill you. So far his path had not been diverted. Except to use the force to hurl a half molten rock at a few brave, yet stupid Padawans, he knew that as they lay trapped, the liquid death would peel their skins off, either that or set them alight.

The Ubese pressed on eyes forward and unwavering, stepping gingerly around the deceptively solid ground, it wasn't what it appeared to be, under there was lava, ready to burn his feet to the bones. If he remembered rightly, the Catacomb entrance should be somewhere over this hill of rock.

The trouble with Mustafar is you can visit one year and then come back and everything changed, so going on a mission here is not for the weak and he knew it, he refrained from going to this particular place with Thierry, his apprentice was miles behind the skill to come here, and they both knew it. Superious saw some blue-skinned Twi'lek get caught in an unexpected vent emission and he melted, well keeled over in Thermal Shock, it was hot enough to make the guy's brain explode inside his skull.

The Catacombs were cool and dark with flickering light sources dotting the place, Superious hoped it wasn't like Tython, with all those bodies stored like a morbid collection. Bodies should be shrouded and buried. That was customary for his people.

The Ubese had little time to ponder the right way to handle the dead as he picked up a presence inside with him. He lit his lightsaber as a precaution.

 

[Rolin Doan]

Location: Gahenn Droid Factory
Objective: Scout the factory, and sabotage Maw Objectives if applicable.
Enemies: The Maw, Maw Allies, Kybo Ren

Rorin hummed from his position, a pair of macrobinoculars in one hand, as the other scratched his mask-covered cheek in thought, a habit he picked up from his grandfather as a small child. He was up fairly high, jagged volcanic rock hiding him from view, a rather convenient gap just enough to peek through with his macrobinolculars to observe the southern landing pad, where a large, armored individual made his way, setting up traps while others, he presumed to be his own warriors, unloaded supplies from ships. Even from here, Rolin could sense the blood that coated the mans very soul, like a stench that would never go away, no matter how much you scrubbed. Rolin grimaced, he was definitely taking a bath after this mission. Just being on this planet, with its darkside influence, made him feel wrong. The sheer amount of Maw warriors and their stench did not help in the least.

"Now just what are you doing here, you big bastard?" Rolin whispered to himself, having a bad feeling about this. He sighed, wishing he was able to bring his men with him, but alas, with the sheer suddenness of the order as well as the mission itself, he was unable. He very much wished he was at fortress vader, where the Empress and other Wardens were, in the real fight. But he simply had to accept this. He was but an initiate, fresh blood. Rolin frowned behind his mask, that of a warden. He had to prove himself to have the honor of fighting along his lord's side. He shall do his duty to the best of his ability, and prove himself not a child, but a loyal servant to the Eternal Empire.

 

[Rika Hiro]

TASK FORCE XESH
G A M B I T O N M U S T A F A R
Rika Hiro|SIA?|Mustafar
Tags:// Maijan Paisea Boluc Laar Tiric Sar'andor

Agent Hiro had chosen to disembark separately from the others, making her drop near the fiery outskirts of the refinery. Mustafar conjured up feelings up hell and despair to the Atrisian, bringing back painful memories of that ledge on Tython many months ago where she had come close to death in the inferno of war.

But she kept that painful memory, like all the others, trapped and painfully suppressed in the back of her mind. She foregone her signature leather jacket she'd bought from a flea market in Atrisia, it was too warm, and her skin was streaked with sweat from the moment she jumped off the craft and onto the ashen ground below.

<<"Gambit to any and all agents on the OP, I have made landing and can link up.">>​

 

[Valery Noble]

Location: Jedi Enclave ruins
Appearance: Link
Outfit: Factory Link
Weapon: Lightsabers (2)
Tag: Darth Ptolemis

The war efforts against the Brotherhood of the Maw had brought Valery to dozens of planets along the border, deep within enemy territory, and with their corridor into the core, even planets that were once deemed safe havens from their horror had become battlegrounds. But today, she found herself traveling to a planet far away from the front to complete a very different kind of mission.

Mustafar was a world with a lot of history to it, and as far away as it was from the Maw, their influence had still affected the planet of lava and molten rock. It had brought together the Alliance, the Crusade, and even the Eternal Empire, but while they were focused around a set of high valued targets, Valery had looked into one that was overlooked by many. A long time ago, the Jedi had been on Mustafar and even built an Enclave of their own, but the real special thing about it was an artifact.

Known as the Chu-Gon Dar Cube, which could manipulate inanimate objects to create entirely new ones. Some of the artifacts that were created using it contained very special properties in the Force, and that's what Valery was after. No matter what, she had to prevent these long-lost artifacts from falling in the wrong hands.

Perhaps there was even a chance to acquire something useful for the Jedi.

So after she finally made her landing alone in a scorched wasteland not far away from the ruins, she got out and turned to her droid, "R5, take the ship away and only come back when I call you," she said and her astromech complied without questioning it. The woman then turned away and tapped into her training as a Shadow to Cloak herself visibly and in the Force, before she began moving for the ruins. Out here, she was alone and without any backup nearby, she had to be careful. A familiar, darker feeling was already on the horizon, and she couldn't risk exposing herself prematurely.

 

[Tiric Sar'andor]

-

​

Spy Games: Let the Games Commence

​

Location: Gahenn Droid Foundry, Gahenn Plains, Mustafar
Unit: Task Force Ysalamiri
Objective: Recover Droid Schematics from Outbound and Inbound Communications
Secondary Objective: Access and Download R & D data.

Spoiler

Equipment:
Hawk-bat Blaster Rifle w/ Mini-rocket rack, Grapnel Launcher and Supressor
Nasty Blade
Heat Resistant Armourweave Black Overcoat
Black Shades
Respirator
Dual Feverwasps w/ Suppressors
etc..

Tags:
Dominik Borra -- GUNS GALORE
Maijan Paisea
Boluc Laar
IVI
Rika Hiro

​

The thrill of the hunt always got him. Especially now that he had met some new friends. M seemed eager to see the new unit in action, especially considered their newer capabilities.

"Down here."

A slight thud went through him as they touched down near a small depression in the jagged ridge-covered landscape, the unit scrambling to attach their respirators and various items of miscellaneous equipment that Tiric had hesitantly allowed. Even a greater range of weapons had been allowed, and spirits seemed high. Tiric certainly hoped it would last. A wall of heat greeted him warmly as he hopped off the transport, candidly waving the transport goodbye as everyone set up. Dual blaster pistols clinking slightly in their loose holsters, he made sure his rifle was loaded, and started off on a light jog, hauling himself up to the top edge of the depression.

The target, despite being thematically identical to its surrounds, stuck out like a sore thumb. Fishing out a pair of worse for wear macrobinoculars, hitting them on his knee to get some work into them. Scanning the surroundings, he made sure to make a mental note of the defenses, the heat clouding him, Tiric only just managing to stave off the brain fog. It was almost as if he could feel every droplet of sweat forcing its way out of his pores and they yielded to the oppressive climate. Wasn't going to be the easiest mission - but then again, when were missions ever easy?

Rifle in hand, tight and close, he pointed the rifle out, making a two-fingered gesture to get in closer to the factory. Hopping over the top bit of the structure, the others eagerly followed, one holding a magcannon, one with a vibroblade and another with a weapon he couldn't say he'd even seen before. Tiric turned slowly to Dominik Borra , a new member of the team, yet to really reveal his true nature. "Hold tight here, Double G, keep the sniper rifle trained on our position, I'll give ya the heads up when we need ya."

<<"Gambit to any and all agents on the OP, I have made landing and can link up.">>

He raised a communications device to his mouth and switched to the open Alliance frequency. <<"Golden Boy to Gambit, I copy, welcome to the party, I got the perfect place for us to go. Meet me at Sector Six, we've got some info. Goes to other agents also.">> Sliding down the side of the ridge, he picked up into a run, kneeling down by another large ridge, he waved his hand round horizontally, as if to strike someone across the face, which the others would have known to mean fan out. And so they complied. It was time to see if this mystery agent would even show up at all. The chronometer on his left wrist scrolled down numbers - time was of the essence and it wouldn't look good to M if it was to slip out of their grasp.

Out of the corner of his eye, not too far a distance away, chatting away. One was an alien with a dark complexion somewhat contrasted by an alluring gold colour - Firrereo perhaps? Another, a human he presumed, who seemed to be with her. It made sense of course, that the other governments would try and do the same thing. What was contained in the foundry would be vital to the war effort, and provide unparalleled knowledge. Standing, he kept his weapon close to his chest, stalking quietly toward their position, nodding to another one of the team to join him. Approaching Maijan Paisea and Boluc Laar slowly he eyed them soberly, watching for movement.

"Agent Sar'andor, what about the rules of engagement?"

Tiric turned slowly with indignation, as if he had been told to leave a holofilm establishment just when the movie was getting good. The look must have spoken decibels as the trooper quickly shut up.

"Who do you serve?" He asked loud and clear, hands still on his weapon and eyebrow raised.

 

[Jas Katis]

MUSTAFAR | MAIN BASE
ETERNAL EMPIRE | HELLION PRIVATE MERCENARY GROUP
ALLIES: EE | GA | AC | Elaena Kessia Miran | Dylan Marsek
ENEMIES: Maw
ENGAGING: Thomas Barran | Ronar | Open
GEAR: In bio | unit equipment

EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE WORLD​

The main base was bustling with activity as gunships flew in, carrying all the troops and their precious cargo of weapons, supplies and vehicles. High up in orbit, Star Destroyers hung as close to the atmosphere as they could without getting pulled in, allowing the starfighters, corvettes and other vehicles to depart with ease. An enormous invasion force, almost bigger in scale than Tython.

And every single piece of equipment and manpower was going to be needed.

Jas stood by a Universal Transport, gesturing to a holographic map of the combat zone. ”Alright, one more time. Tanks and trucks will provide artillery support, unless you want to test the floating capabilities of our vehicles on lava. Starfighters will escort us overhead. But no matter what happens, those gunships gotta keep flying. If they stop, we’re done in there.” He looked at his officers, all nodding with a determined look in their eyes. A few of them were new, but most of them remembered Tython. ”Alright let’s move out. Skif, I’ll be with your boys in a second.” He gave the hardened soldier a nudge before walking off.

He looked up as an Eternal gunship flew in towards another landing pad. He was looking forward to another job with the agent. Grabbing his rifle and helmet, he marched over to Skif’s group sitting around a bunch of crates, checking their weapons.

"Oh, you again?"

"Did you enjoy the joint mission on Isis so much?"

”With a reception as welcome as yours, how could I possibly pass up the opportunity.” He quipped casually as he came to a halt beside her. ”I hope you’re ready, agent. This isn’t going to be a silent operation like Isis.” He continued as he looked at his troopers. The squad of Acklay 1-1. Skif suggested they stock up on ammunition, though Jas merely smirked at the words.

”I would suggest you and your boys stock up on canteens for this trip. Mustafar isn’t a place for smoothskins.” He muttered, his golden eyes glaring at every single soldier. His eyes paused when he looked at a new trooper among them. Dylan Marsek. ”You’re new.” He commented, taking a step towards the boy. ”You weren’t on Tython, were you? You haven’t faced the Maw…” He glanced at Chameleon for a moment. ”I hope you learn quickly. The Mawites aren’t Imperials, Jedi or Mandalorians.” He loomed over the boy with his piercing gaze.

Casually he turned towards Chameleon with a grin. ”If you need a human shield, use him. The others I need on this mission.” He quipped with a chuckle, looking around the area.

”What are you lot waiting for?! A pep talk? MOUNT UP, HELLIONS!” He barked with an animalistic roar.

THUNDERSTRUCK​

Troopers poured into gunships while starfighters rumbled overhead. Tanks and artillery trucks dug into position as their weapons dialed in the range of the target area. The Forge. A sprawling industrial area, rotten with Mawites likely digging in with everything they had. He had a good suspicion that Barran was in there with his men.

Jas walked with Chameleon and the other troops to a gunship and hopped in, taking a deep breath before he pulled his helmet on. ”You feel it, don’t you? The weight of this planet? This is going to be a good day.” He muttered, glancing at her and then at his men. The greenie, his squad, and the rest of the platoon.

Engines roared as they took off, and below them came the bellowing of artillery as rockets and shells howled through the air towards the city. Most of them exploded in high explosive hellfire, but a number of them left a yellow cloud of poison behind to creep into the deeper parts of the city. Coupled with smoke rounds, the intent was clear.

They wanted to choke their enemy out.

The starfighters took the lead and strafed over various parts while the gunships opened fire as well. :: Don’t forget! The first objective is to get an objective! We set up a base of operations, and we move out from there! :: He called out over the comms, lightly bobbing his head to the music playing through the intercom of all the gunships. The Hellions were on their way, and they made sure the Maw knew their friends from Tython were paying a high octane visit for them.

Jas checked his weapons, and the lightsaber hilt tucked into his kit, before he looked at the red light in the cabin.

:: GREEN LIGHT! GET OUT THERE, ROCKJUMPERS! :: Came the call as the gunships came to a halt and ropes dropped down along the sides of the boarding ramps. ”Go, go, go!” He called out, nudging Chameleon as he sprinted and jumped out of the gunship, landing perfectly on the ground inside the city walls. His rifle was at the ready as the rest of the force sailed down and joined up, some setting up defenses and repeated while others moved forward.

 

[Lord Odion]

​

Post: One
Location: Outside Fortress
Allies: A Few
Enemies: Many, Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

​

Odion was seated on a small rock outcropping, one foot brought up, the other dangling over the side. He rested the inside of his right arm on his raised leg, his fingers slowly flexing, the gloves he wore groaning from the movements. The black and red coat he wore over his black shirt and pants would have been unnaturally and unbearably warm on Mustafar, but a small projection and control of the Force allowed Odion to remain comfortable, even as a geyser of magma erupted no more than six meters from him. His crimson eyes turned to look at it, blinded for the briefest of moments, before his gaze turned back towards the presence approaching him.

The Brotherhood of the Maw had come to Mustafar in force, though not necessarily in unity. The New Sith Order, the Knights of Ren, and a half score other interested parties had all arrived on this worthless rock for their own reasons, Odion with his own among them. He had intended to pursue some personal drive to find Sith relics on the world, but that possibility had been lost following the arrival of the Eternal Crusade and Galactic Alliance to the world. Now, fighting had erupted across, and above the world, ruining Odion's plans. He had debated departing the world entirely, when he sensed the arrival of someone.

The arrival of the Light.

Intrigued by what he had felt, and guessing the most likely destination for the being of light, Odion had set himself in their path. Given the nature of himself and the one approaching, a conflict would certainly be the likely outcome. But that was no problem to the Sith. His curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he would see this course of action through.

When his foe finally came into sight, Odion would incline his head shallowly in greeting. "I would welcome you here, stranger, but to my knowledge you were not invited."

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Location: Fortress Vader, Sith Archives
Opposition: Onrai

Honestly, the place was a bit of a maze, ominous hallways, terrible lighting, occasional raspy breathing at the edge of his senses all combined with the occasional Knight of Ren that he ran into slowed him down more than he would have liked. The fog of the Dark Side hanging over this palace like a cloud seemed to muddle his path a bit, the usual surity of his steps that one could liken to Divine Providence was delayed by a minute or two as the Jedi needed to recenter himself every now and again.

He idly noted that such a thing was unlikely to slow him down in a fight, the mind more focusing on survival that the usual distractions that plagued him would be unable to latch on and muddle his focus. But it served enough to have him wander in circles for a few minutes through darkened hallways. Before finally reaching something that seemed important.

A smaller focus of dark energy, the signs of a ritual brushed along the edge of his senses. Not one as potent as what he felt happening deeper in the fortress, but no less insidious.

Pursing his lips, he considered his options. He could try his luck through the ridiculous layout of the fortress and attempt to put a kibosh on the ritual currently going on at the manse's heart, or he could deal with what new threat popped up on his spiritual radar.

The deliberation took only a moment to settle, the bigger ritual was a known factor to many, any force sensitive could tell what was going on and Aaran could feel many others scurrying around the Fortress, flickering in and out of his senses, many of them no friends of the Maw. As far as he could tell, the newer spell being cast was something only he was aware of.

The Force would not lead him on this path if it didn't have a plan, others could deal with the bigger occult working, he'd deal with the one in the archives.

And so, barely a minute into Onrai's ritual, the doors to the archive would crash open, the broken body of a Knight of Ren flung through it like human cannonball, impacting with a nearby shelf and flopping bonelessly to the ground, no lightsaber wounds or blaster bolts, just an unconcious lunatic incapacitated through sheer blunt trauma.

And striding in with all the swagger of someone who had utter faith in their own fate came their assailant, absently tossing a grenade from one hand to the other. Gazen hidden behind sunglasses sweeping over the archives, before finally settling on the form of Onrai, the spirit probably having a hard enough time hiding from them, what with Aaran having long ago abandoned his ability to perceive the mundane for the spiritual.

"This seems delicate." He mused, before absently tossing the grenade into one of the nearby shelves. The pressure sensitive explosive ready to go off seconds after it left Aaran's hand, exploding the moment it came into contact with anything.

"Terribly sorry." He called out, cracking his neck. "Not usually a fan of playing the anti-intellectual. But I'm of the mind that the Galaxy is better off without this knowledge."

"So I'll have to ask you to leave. Got some books to burn."

 

[Alessandra Io]

Location: Catacombs, Fortress Vader - Mustafar
Objective: Under Siege - Bathe in Mawite Blood
Dialogue Legend: <<Technopathy Link>> │ “Verbal”
Tags: Erion Justeene

Her sister ( Akemi Io ) was here.

The HRD could feel her presence—playful, innocent, and intelligent—echoing through the local network, stemming from that esoteric, arcane way she manipulated technology, which Alessandra had learned was an unwitting manifestation of the Force. She had not seen the Fixer since Tython, since her daughter’s death, an event which had plunged the HRD into a depression, causing her to abandon her parish and by extension, House Io. It had already been weeks since Tython, but the wound in her synthetic soul felt as raw as ever.

Perhaps for the first time since then, the Chaplain thought back to her family. What would Akemi say to her? Mother? Percival, Prescott, and Galahad? Everyone in House Io had lost someone on Tython, but Alessandra had been the only one to disappear without warning as a result of that. The rest had seemingly found the strength to move on, towards growing the family and expanding its reach.

Meanwhile, Alessandra had wallowed in killing criminals in the Scar Worlds.

If only out of fear, the Chaplain sent no message to Akemi, but she sensed that the Fixer would figure out that her beloved sister was here—after being gone for weeks—soon enough.

In the meantime, Alessandra had a Mawite Sith to kill.

The sensors in her neck piece picked up the lone dark sider and in a snap decision, Alessandra moved towards a nearby chamber which had enough space for her to maneuver. Already, the sensors warned her that the Sith was honing in on her position, no doubt seeing her as more prey, like the group of Jedi he had slain only moments before earlier.

Once she was inside the chamber, Alessandra waited in the middle clearing—close to a small hill in the terrain —for the Sith to arrive. All the while, the Chaplain pulled two of her chakrams from their place on her back and activated their vibration systems, priming the bladed discs to be leveled towards the Sith almost as soon as he stepped inside the chamber.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Eversor Bodysuit
  
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Eversor Rings
• Tönn Rándýrsins | Fang of the Predator (2)

 

[Onrai]

Aaran Tafo

"Are you stupid?"

Onrai's ritual had begun. Already power emerged from her to latch onto the various data storage devices in the archives, directly siphoning away the knowledge contained within. Anyone who looked at the archives after she was done would find them physically intact, but with nothing in them. No piece of parchment would have a drop of ink on it. No datapad would have a single bit of data stored on its drives. And no holocron would have secrets stored within to be revealed. She was already going to leave no trace of the knowledge within the archives.

"This entire ritual is to drain the information stored here and leave nothing left." Another shade manifested separately of the one siphoning away the world's knowledge. "If you want there to be nothing left, then congratulations. Turn around one hundred and eighty degrees, walk forward about twenty paces, and be sure to shut the door behind you, as I'll gladly finish whatever your job is for you."

Maybe that would actually work.