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

[Darth Ptolemis]

JEDI RUINS OF MUSTAFAR

Writing with: Valery Noble

Ambience.

​

The Blasphemer, already drenched in sweat under his black garments marched on toward the forgotten ruins, as well as the Mustafarians who one by one began to turn and focus on the foreboding stranger walking toward them. Huddled together, but still covered by the safety blanket of blissful ignorance they stared at the approaching masked figure still a few paces away from them. They seemingly remained somewhat calm, but the planet’s past history with Sith and its recent history with the Ren did not elude them completely. Who could blame them? The arrival of a full-fledged Dark Lord of the Sith would be a statistical rarity on any planet; surely such misfortune could not befall people already so downtrodden. Surely.

They waved and tried to signal him to stop, but Ptolemis marched on like a spirit of reckoning. Some even placed their hands on their weapons and hips, and one of them wisely departed back and away from the Blasphemer’s direction of approach. Tensions rose with each step he took. He could sense a dreadful weight manifesting among them, dragging on their psyche, nudging them away from the terrible presence closing in on them. In a few minutes, two more of the locals turned and began jogging away, simply upon first getting a comprehensive look of the unknown horror that what Ptolemis, now only 20-30 meters away from them. Finally, only two of them remained, and among wails of warning, a helmeted local drew his gun and pointed it at Ptolemis. In response, his durite hilt flew into his waiting clutch and ignited, its blade’s crimson perfectly complementing the colors of the lava planet. Both recoiled simply upon witnessing the ignition of the lightsaber. They immediately turned and ran for their lives. Ptolemis however, still looking for answers or any clues upon which he may build his investigation of the ruins, thrusts out his free arm to seize the fleeing men telekinetically, but then, just as he is about to wrap the chains of his mind around the bodies of these pathetic stragglers, like a lightning strike, a flash of icy cold rolls across his body from head to toe.

There is no need for him to turn toward the unforeseen signature in the distance to know their identity. He abruptly stops, lowers his arm slowly, and verbally says only one word. A single utterance expressed with bile and cruelty.
​

Noble.​

With the mission already being on a short fuse, the Blasphemer turns his head toward the Jedi Master in the distance, with countless thoughts running through his mind. His lightsaber still ignited, he raises his mutilated left hand in front of his face. Hatred, and a desire for revenge begins to envelop him. Noble. First thwarting his plans on Selvaris, then taking over his summoning lair on Wizar II. A Jedi by whom he suffered the most defeats; but he too now had more tricks up his sleeve. He evolved. Or rather, made himself evolve.

His mutilated, three-fingered stump is clenched, and he disengages his saber. Having long forgotten about the locals, he focuses his mind upon the Force, and darts across the scorched plains of Mustafar, into the stretch of ruins that not only offer cover, but secrets of the past he may still be able to steal for himself. His plan is to wait for her among the primal temples, surrounded by the failures of past Jedi.

Still, he has no doubts about the skills of his opponent. She will meet him head-on, without fear, without hesitation. She is one of the purest, most noteworthy of their ancient enemies. So the Shadow Hand accepts the challenge of the Force, and readies himself for a battle with Jedi Master Valery Noble .​

​

 

[Onrai]

Aaran Tafo

"You seem to take me for a Sith. I assure you, I am very much not." The avatar said. "There's no reason for a goddess to kill you when it doesn't benefit her." She pursued the siphoning of the knowledge even more and was nearly done with it at this rate, when the burst of Force Light came from the Jedi's hand. She sighed, her own hand raised as a portion of the floor soon rose, becoming a wall of physicality to block the energy before the hand was forced out, a wave of energy striking the wall after its deflection and shattering it into numerous large chunks of debris that went towards Aaran.

"You want to destroy the knowledge? Here." As she spoke, drained holocrons, scrolls, and books began to emerge from their vestibules, a consistent stream from all directions of objects seeking to strike him at relatively high speeds. The worst they could likely do was knock him out, and she expected perhaps bruising and not much else, but it would be enough to allow her to finish the ritual and conclude her siphoning of the materials within the room.

 

[Elaena Kessia Miran]

Kessia Miran / Agent Chameleon
Knight Warden of the Wardens of the Shroud, Agent of Blackwatch, sithspawn, L’lerim’s right hand, Agent of Nite, Member of the Hellhounds​

Objective: Work together with the Private Merc. Group
Location: The Forge | The Arabesh Flats Military-Industrial Complex
Equipment: Væringi MK. I Assassin Armour | 2x Sunfury Pistol | 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | 2x Red blade lightsaber shoto | Cloaking Device | Amuler of Many | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Allies: Jas Katis | Dylan Marsek
Enemies: Thomas Barran | Kralmus Orr | Ronar | Keilara Kala'myr

[ Rise of the Empire ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

"I have no problem with non-quiet missions either." she shrugged.

The truth was, she was just grinning under her helmet. Kessia loved it if she was underestimated or just looked like a simple agent. Yet she was not; she really wasn't. But it was also her job to make others think this about her. Later, in a fight, she was able to cause very unpleasant surprise by this. Kessia also received training from the Shadow Company and the Frost Company. It was necessary for her to be able to replace Ingrid even better if needed.

"These are beasts, they don't care if they get hurt or die. Their goal is to do as much damage as possible before they die. Get ready for this…" she told the young man.

It was almost true because her data and information so far were about the marauders led by The Mongrel, not the tactics of the new Warlord. But she could imagine, the new one is similar to the old one. After all, they were the Maw and these are marauders.

She chuckled at the offer as he glanced in Dylan's direction; all soldiers must go through the battle baptism. This day was no worse than any other option.

She followed the team into the dropship, then, once they were over the area, she grunted silently after the small push and then jumped out of the vehicle. Kessia landing on the ground was infinitely graceful and elegant, after a somersault. Leaving no doubt that she is also a Force User. She had shown no sign of this before; and her lightsabers weren't visible either. But those were now on her side now, on her belt; two hilts.

<< I'll be here, close to you, not leaving the team or the formation! I'm just covering you. >> she told them on the comm. channel.

Chameleon "walked" one side of the team, invisible; watching for those the team didn’t notice or just the enemy came later to attack them from behind. Rather, she covered them, sometimes appearing from the shadows for a moment, with the two red lightsabers as she struck down the enemy and killed them. She disappeared again afterwards in the shadows.

However, so as not to cause trouble for her companions, the woman did not hide her presence in the Force, so Jas could constantly feel in the Force where the woman was.

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Commodore Cynthia Alucard
Objective Four: Racing with time
Actions: Attack as the fleet advances, send majority of fighters to provide cover for Strike Group Flash, B-Wings held readied for targeted strikes

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

Gripping her hands behind her back Cynthia presented a calm expression as she viewed the star-map in front of her. The battle had begun and its development felt far more akin to a womprat springing a trap. She had not received any reports of the evacuation so far, but the fact that there was little to no resistance should have rang several alarm bells. For the most part the alarm bells were being rung, but that was after the fact the enemy fleet were attempting to corner the Alliance and Ashlan fleet. Up against the sun to their backs and a presumably hostile station to one side and now an enemy fleet closing the gaps to the other.

Fortunately the other commanders were not so inclined to be caught in a turkey shoot for the Maw fleet. The Ashlan Crusade are certainly willing to throw themselves into fray, believing some divine light of providence will see them to victory. Cynthia though knew she was not one to make any judgements of the Alliance’s present allies. After all she had believed in Imperial causes before and shown that sort of desperate nationalism before on the battlefield.

“Have our Starfighters begin their advancement towards the enemy fleet, staggered and as a protective cone over our battlecruisers.” Cynthia ordered to her Comm Officer, “-Hold five squadrons as our reserves, and let the bombers find their opening.” Cyn added quickly.

She wanted to maintain her screen of corvettes to keep off any potential enemy fighters or bombers from targeting her own carriers. Direct engagement was not her goal for the moment, but given Admiral Sang’s orders for his Strike Group, Cynthia worried about seeing her shields being bombarded by heavy turbolaser fire.

“Alert the B-Wing Squad Leaders to keep an eye on the larger Maw ships, we can let Strike Group Flash take any serious damage if we can help it.” Cynthia added. She knew her pilots were desperate to get into the fray, restraining their instincts could only last for so long until she ultimately dulled their fangs.

New reports continued to flow up to the Command bridge, Cynthia quickly read one communication from the Ashlan fleet that they would focus a significant amount of their effort on rescuing the prisoners. One objective less to worry about for Cyn, but what really caused her a sense of relief were new signatures of ships entering the system. Alliance signatures.

Always good to have more ships between us and the enemy. A crooked smile stretched the corners of her lips as she watched the holo-map in front of her continue to change.
​

|| Marlon Sularen | Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Nexo | Pa'Kar Sang | Izah'zore ||

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Sith Cave
Objective: 1
Allies: Maw/Sith
Enemies: Ingrid L'lerim


Despite his words it seemed that the Empress was content with mocking his ways. He didn’t expect much from someone who failed to understand much, she could have gone on how she lived in the Netherworld, for all intents and purposes Kyrel done the same thing, instead he had died fighting on her behalf, then the Sith brought him back if only to be used once more. He scoffed at her words, it seemed she was unwilling to listen or comprehend that it would be more than a Sith Ritual.

The stone covered in runes of the Sith language started to echo once more. Like the voices of Holocrons from the past he turned. His palm hovered above the stone, watching how the runes started to turn blood red. Turning his head to look at her. His next words seemed amused. “Do you think I came all this way to bring back Solipsis? How shortsighted you have become. I don’t intend to serve the Sith, in time I will become the Maw itself. Of course the Sith will have no place in my Maw…” He said revealing an inkling of his plans to her.

He was ready to activate the ritual. The runes along the walls flowed a dark red along with the stone. One push of his hand, and he would being the opening rites. “I do not intend to show you something new. I do sense you carry great suffering, loss, death. Ah, I see now… You are looking for something… No, someone.” He said as he felt her out through the Force, sending her emotions. He kept his hand above the stone in order to start it any second. “Vader held the same questions, with the Castle as a magnifier he used it to discover himself, maybe even bring back someone close to him. Perhaps it can be used to help you… I can help you accomplish what you seek…” He spoke trying to use her want, her loss to his advantage.

Doing his best to convince her with his words, outside he felt the conflict increase in intensity. Any moment he could begin, and once he did it would be difficult to undo what has already been done. He spoke once more as if her mocking was like that of a child, an ignorant child who knew no better. “I can show you Empress, all I have to do is open the door…” He said, keeping his fingers steady above the stone. If his convincing was unsuccessful he would have no choice but to proceed anyway, hoping that the destructive ritual itself would accomplish multiple goals. His gaze held to her, waiting to see what she would do.

 

[Aleem Qel Droma]

Falling Star

TAG: Heinrich Faust

Aleem stood in the drop ship with the holy warriors of Ashla. The haul hummed, and rang with the sound of canon fire outside. The newly minted Postulant kept his composure. This was the moment when his metal would be tested. The Grand Marshal Heinrich Faust had opened the hatch and after a prayer, and batflecry of
The Ashlan, leapt out. Other Crusaders followed him in unison like golden stars they fell towards the surface. It was Aleem’s turn, he leapt out of drop ship, free falling, all around him massive bolts flew by, one nearly grazing his leg. A great haze of smoke bellowed from volcanic mountains about Castle Vader, all around the visible terrain was aglow with lava flows that bursted to the surface in orange on a ashen black canvas.
Aleem descended towards the plateform. He saw The Grand Marshal land safely, which gave him hope his landing would be equally blessed. Aleem drew on the Force, it slowed his descent, and at last he reached the plateform, dropping, rolling and landing on one one knee. As he rose he unsheathed his langes schwert on his left side, and ignited the yellow jasper blade of a lightsaber in his right hand. The hum of his ancestors saber calmed his nerves while adrenaline flooded his body. Ulic was with him. Ashla was with them.
“There is no death, there is the Force.”
A Jedi maxim, and yet truth could be found among all who revered Ashla and rejected the darkness.

 

[Lord Odion]

​

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

​

Odion cast a rueful glance skyward, listening to the natural sounds of the world. After a few moments, he turned his gaze back towards the visitor, his eyes narrowed. "I have heard the calls, and know them for what they are. The siren calls of the doomed." Odion rose to his feet then, his imposing stature only heightened by the rock outcropping he had claimed for himself. He stared down at the figure before him, the disgust he felt for her mere existence difficult to keep from his face.

"The wounds that fester on this world will run their course, stranger. That is their fate, and any wound inflicted upon the Light Side is of little concern to me. It is but the first strike in the war that must come for us all." Reaching to his side, Odion gripped his lightsaber, activating it. The crimson blade erupted to life with the all too familiar snap hiss, and Odion brought it up in a brief combat salute to the being before him.

"Beyond our personal reasons for being here, I cannot allow you to progress further. On our field of battle, I salute you, and will honor your corpse this day."

 

[Marlon Sularen]

---

---

---

M U S T A F A R_L E G A C I E S
Pacing with Time

FINAL DAWN
PRIATE , OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

---

---

---

SIXTH SECTOR FLEET​
First Group FDS Sovereign [Flagship] | [100|054] FDS Invincible | [100|070] FDS Hydra | [100|059] FDS Scylla | [100|067] FDS Titan | [100|079] FDS Crimson Linings | [100|098]
Second Group FDS Manticore | [100|094] FDS Basilisk | [100|094] FDS Gorgon | [100|094] FDS Brawl | [100|100] FDS Iron Fist | [100|098] FDS Dominatrix | [100|100] FDS Binder | [100|100] FDS Spectral | [100|100] FDS Constrainer | [100|100]
Defensive Fighter Screen TIE/fd Fighter | 8 Squadrons | 96/96 TIE/fd Interceptor | 5 Squadrons | 40/40

The bridge of the FDS Sovereign shook as it came under heavy fire from the majority of the combined enemy fleet. “Primary Shields down to 54%.” an officer cried out. “The Hydra and Scylla are reporting similar damage to their Shields” another said. “The Enemy’s response is stronger than I anticipated” Sularen remarked. “But nevertheless they are throwing everything at us, a sign that they still remain overconfident and overestimate their actual abilities. Have the scans on the enemy fleet been completed yet, Colonel?” Sularen asked. “Yes sir, we have identified all ships present, most of which are Ashlan and Alliance Warships with the latter having more assets present.” Rackham said.

“Of-course the Alliance would bring more, they’ve always sought my demise the most, it’s like an itch they cannot resist.” Sularen said. “Nevertheless since they Alliance are acting more aggressively then their Ashlan counterparts i think we should begin by getting rid of them first, divide and conquer. What do you have on your ship’s significant weaknesses, Colonel?” Rackham then began scrolling down on his datapad before responding. “Starting with their flagship, a Starhawk mark three Battleship identified as the Marauder's Bane, it has limited resistance to EMPs and Ion Weaponry with the effect of such depending on the proximity of the enemy ship, along with an exposed Bridge and volatile Turreted Warhead Projection Tubes which if destroyed could cause a chain reaction among the ship” the Colonel began.

“And, the rest of the fleet?” Sularen inquired. “Their Carriers, the Endurance mark two share those same weaknesses. However, their Star Defenders, the Concord-Class, share no such weaknesses and instead have two major weak spots, within their Ventral Hangars and their Bow which if breached could cause intensive damage. The only problem is that such weaknesses are harder to exploit since they have strong armor and shielding.” Rackham said. Sularen stroked his beard thinking of a way he could strike back. The Alliance Fleet was attacking his fleet in a more precise and aggressive manner then their Ashlan counterparts and thus destroying it separately was a priority, defeat in detail.

After much deliberation, the High Regent finally made a decision. "Good. Now i know what i must do" Standing up from his Command Chair, the High Regent walked towards the viewports of the Sovereign's Bridge before clasping his hands before his back and speaking “We are going to annihilate the Naval Forces of the Galactic Alliance with one decisive strike. A reminder of the overwhelming strength and capabilities of the Final Dawn. The Titan, Hydra and Scylla are to move out of formation and advance in a single file, one ship behind another. They are too advance towards the Galactic Alliance Flottila followed by the Sovereign, the Leviathan and the Crimson Linings not far behind. The rest of the Fleet is to tighten their formation and deploy all their Fighters in a defensive screen against any attack from the Ashlans or the Alliance. Once they see a portion of the main fleet split off, they will seek to add more pressure on the weaker force and destroy our interdictors. This will be the first step in achieving our ultimate victory, and the Alliance won't know what hit them. Glory to the Final Dawn."

As Sularen ordered, the FDS Titan, FDS Hydra and FDS Scylla broke off from the main Final Dawn Fleet arranged themselves in a single line of battle, soon proceeding to advance towards Strike Force Flash led by Rear Admiral Sang, shortly afterwards, the FDS Sovereign , FDS Leviathan and FDS Crimson Linings followed, all ships seemingly launching an Ackbar Slash attack to break the formation of Strike Force Flesh and crush them with overwhelming firepower. At the same time, the main Fleet of the Final Dawn in which the Light Carrier, three Star Destroyers and two Battlecruisers split off from, proceeded to tighten their formation with the remaining three Pellaeon Mark-III Star Destroyers and the pair of Donnagers created an arc formation infront of the four Final Dawn Interdictors with all five ships deploying their starfighter compliments to form a defensive screen infront of their ships as a defensive measure against any attacking Ashlan and Alliance Force that would try to strike at either the Group of Star Destroyers and Cruisers or the Interdictors. If Galactic Alliance and Ashlan Crusade thought this would be an easy battle they would be mistaken, sure some of the Heavy hitting warships of the Final Dawn had taken considerable damage to their Shielding but they were far out of the fight, and Sularen would make sure that the Alliance and the Ashlans would get the message he intended to deliver. That he was…inevitable.

---

Spoiler: Fleet Actions

• The Final Dawn Fleet sustains heavy damage to their shielding from the enemy attack
  • The FDS Sovereign from the ANV Marauder's Bane, Divine Purpose, Bogan's Nemesis and other Ashlan Warships
  • The FDS Hydra from the ANV Tython and Consolidator
  • The FDS Scylla from the ANV Tuatha'an and Thunder Wasp
  • The FDS Invincible from the ANV Sunspire and Two Moons
  • The FDS Titan from the ANV Spitball, Lady's Gambit and Corsair
  • The Entire Fleet (Battlecruisers, Star Destroyers + FDS Iron Fist and Crimson Linings) also sustain minor damage to shields inflicted by the attacking Ashlan Forces
• The FDS Titan, FDS Hydra and FDS Scylla break off from the main Final Dawn Naval Formation advancing towards Strike Force Flash as if they are charging towards them in an Ackbar Slash
• The Trio of Star Destroyers charging towards Strike Force Flash are latter joined by the FDS Sovereign , FDS Leviathan and FDS Crimson Linings who also split off from the main formation and proceed to follow the trio of Star Destroyer from behind, also advancing towards Strike Force Flash
• The Remaining Ships within the main fleet tighten their formation with the Pellaeon-IIIs and the Donnagers at the front while the Interdictors still remain in the rear with the ships at the front returning fire at the Ashlan Formation
• In addition, 13 Squadrons of mixed TIE Fighters and Interceptors are deployed from the three defending Pellaeon-IIIs and Donnagers to establish a defensive screen infront of the remains of the Main Fleet to intercept any attacking forces.

---

Tags | Pa'Kar Sang | Nexo | Izah'zore | Cynthia Alucard | Isla Draellix-Kobitana ​

---

 

[Aleem Qel Droma]

TAG: Heinrich Faust
Aleem saw the Mustafarian troops open fire, some racong towards them with vibroswords and other assorted melee weapons. Aleem deflected bolts with his saber, and hewed down one, and then a second Mustafarian, his steel blade passed through the shrouded hood and wrapped masked face, the rose water spraying in the air form the felled one’s veins. The rush took Aleem, he thrusted his saber tip into a Mustafarian foot soldier, the blade crackled, creating a molten hole in the chest that turned dark when he removed the blade. The heat of battle rose, bolts of red fell on The Postulant, who spun his yellow jasper blade tp deflect them, sending the heated beams into ground to explode or into air.
Aleem saw a band of Mustafarians making a wall of bodies, holding pikes, some with energy tip. The Qel Droma rushed with some Crusaders shouting,
“Ashla Wills It!”

 

[Valery Noble]

Outfit | Weapon | Appearance

Location: Mustafar

The dark presence of the Shadow Hand approached the locals she had felt in the proximity of the ruins, and unsurprisingly, she felt an overwhelming amount of fear as a result. Few could stand this close to such a dark aura without survival instincts forcing one to run for their lives. But Valery was a Jedi, and so it was her purpose to confront it head-on. There was no fear holding her back, no hesitation in her actions, but she wasn't reckless or overconfident either. A single mistake in the presence of a Dark Lord such as Ptolemis and it was all over.

So with a focused mind and the hilt of a lightsaber already drawn into her hand, the Jedi Master augmented herself and moved closer to the ruins, her senses sharp and locked in on his heavy presence. He was already there, and she knew he had sensed her as well. It had stopped what would have otherwise been a massacre of the locals and left a desire for revenge echoing through the Force instead. It was a powerful feeling she had experienced in the presence of many other Sith, but it was rarely this powerful and overwhelming.

Now it was drawing her to their next battleground — the ruins of an ancient Jedi Enclave.

With explosive Force, Valery launched herself up into the air to get on top of what used to be a small building near the outskirts of this Jedi settlement. Once she landed, her eyes briefly closed and she reached out to the Force, her presence connecting with his to make sure he knew that she was ready for him.

"It has been a while, Ptolemis," Valery said, deciding against using his actual first name as last time. As tempting as it was to get under his skin before the fight, she could feel that he had changed. Until she understood him better, she was going to keep her own changes to herself, and not provoke him more than she already had.

"I know why you're here, and I'll make sure you leave empty-handed, if at all,"

Her thumb shifted over the switch of her lightsaber and with a quick tap, the purple blade ignited low by her side. She wasn't going to make the first move and jump down where he had cover unless it was necessary. She wanted him to step out of hiding and confront her.

Darth Ptolemis ​

 

[Thomas Barran]

3rd 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 Ronar Erion Justeene Kralmus Orr

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

FEAR THE OMEN, FIGHT THE MAN: A BLOODHOUND STORY - PART 3

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

<"Sir, Commander Orr, Ronar, this is Mercy! In the city, based on the drones, I see only Eternal Imperial units and mercenaries working with them. Based on my data, they have worked with the Eternal Empire before, so you have to reckon with groups who are working with each other well.">
​

With at least some of the enemy's full array identified, Barran took a moment to consider the information Kala'myr had just passed down the line, comparing what he was pleased with before with that which he was still listening to at the time. With the fact the opposing forces had split their effort across multiple isolated locations, the benefit of Mustafar's lava-covered surface meant that those mentioned in the latest situation-report would consist of the bulk of those attempting to array against the Forge; aptly named, as the Bloodhound knew fine and well that defending his own forge would consist of the same desperation, but far more intensely than he ever would on a planet he'd never visited before. However, though he couldn't articulate or prove it, the lingering feeling that his father's hand was in all of it was somehow finding a way to tie the Eternal Empire with the Empire Thomas once knew, tying the Eternal Empress with the Lord-Regent in a single accord - eradication of the Maw.

Eradication of everything the Bloodhound was trying to uphold and build around, of everything the Omen of Durace had been resurrected to defend with his life, and the one-eyed Warlord would throw everything into his Wardenship over the Scar Hounds' domains. To dominate or to die in the attempt, to give the tribe, the Brotherhood and the gods he believed in a chance to stay in the greatest fight of all.

This, difficult to articulate though it was for the one-eyed Warlord at the time, would form the makings that would become the slow-burning, slow-building doctrine of the Scar Hounds' ever-evolving next generation.

<"My drones are out in the city and in the air, if anyone needs any information, you know where to find me. Mercy out!">​

Nodding as he looked out to the fiery expanse beyond the terminal, Barran took off his Brodie-Helm and gasmask to take it all in a little better, and in pre-emptively expecting to need his entire periphery against Katis, surely somewhere nearby - especially by then.

Come out-come out, wherever you are....

My blade desires a real challenge again.​

The Bloodhound had been there a while, searching for the Sith Pureblood in the shadows for a good while already by the time he reached the Terminal's outer eastern boundary, but as he turned back to look towards the side-streets he was sneaking through before, Barran's thoughts swayed to ponder on the latest addition to the Tri-Lunar Clique. He had not given much thought as to how far the young Darth had taken his soul to achieve such power, nor on the fact he hunted Erion's kind in his first life, as it all seemed quite irrelevant to Thomas by then; Justeene had sworn for the Scar Hounds, completely separating himself from the bony, wrinkled grasp of the New Sith Order in search of something greater, a cycle without masters, a cycle without subversion. Unheard of elsewhere in the Maw to such a strong level of theocratic radicalisation, but the Omen of Durace believed, just as all the Tri-Lunars believed in the same fashion, just as the Ubese warrior believed by then.

<"Superious, wherever you are - remember the strength of your newfound freedom. The same freedom you feel resonating within you now, that freedom from lesser masters, from lesser mentors an' the like. Your radicalisation is true, you felt it in the moment you accepted my offer.... Without those who are lesser to you now, you are more than that order you came from, more than the Darth's rank you retain, an' more than all who nurtured your power before. FEED FROM THAT POWER!!!!">​

 

[Khione]

​

Tag: Bané Zirbils
Equipment:
Ballerina
Eyes of Khoine
Pulsiva flight suit
2x Cartridge Revolvers
Retractable Neural Stinger

Khione sat with her water beside her and her comm unit on her knees as she fiddled with the wiring to make sure it wasn't the unit itself that was the problem, it all looked good to get.

A voice called out asking if she was friend or foe and Khiones gaze snapped to the figure on the ridge, the voice, sounded almost? No, couldn't be?

"Surely that depends whose asking?" she replied in her broken basic accent, it wasn't a language she was comfortable with or even like using. Without the modulation of the starfighter comms she would sound different down here, but her accent was fairly distinctive. Khione had noticed how exposed she was, so before and blaster bolts started flying, she rolled off the rock she was sat on and crouched behind it. Her head and torso stuck out and she had one of her Revolvers in her hand.

"You Alliance? What are you doing here? You crash too?" she took aim but wouldn't shoot. The environment was so hostile that given enough time they would both be dead anyway, it might be better to talk this one out.

She zoomed in closer with her eye, between the smoke and the haze it didn't give her much more detail, but she was finally able to get a look at the face of the young woman that had been causing her so much trouble over the past few months.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Objective: Try to stop the ritual
Location: Fortress Vader
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Kyrel Ren | Closed

[ Valley of Death ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Ingrid didn't usually mocking others because she underestimated her opponents. No, the woman was smarter than that; she learned that it was a basic human behaviour that most people start talking when they are insulted. And many, at such times, tell very useful information. And the woman was interested in this information. It was her experience that if someone was offended, he would tell the truth, and not the pre-built lies.

Few people are able only to think offended and angrily. Especially in a sober and rational way. Of course, a lie can still be made if the other party thinks the lie is true. But this was the case in very few cases. Precisely because of these, she had no doubt that Kyrel would tell her the truth.

After the man's words, the red-haired woman chuckled a little. It wasn't mocking, it was more joyful. Those words amused her. It was as if she had heard again her friend and lover, Zachariel Steelblood . He told the same about the Sith and the Maw.

”To tell you the truth, it’s a lot of fun that most of the Maw leaders don’t want to see the Sith in the Maw…” she said honestly.

She will not tell Zach's name or the alliance with him. The red-haired woman just tilted her head to the side again for the next. She wasn’t surprised if a strong Force User like Kyrel is able to sense the emptiness in a woman’s soul or that one part of her soul was actually missing. The part she left with Adrian at Netherworld with her husband. And this was the reason why she became part of the Netherworld despite the fact she was alive.

”Yes, I still mourn my late husband, Darth Prospero. But I'm not looking for him, I know exactly where he is.” she told him.

She didn’t fully understand why either, but if she was in Netherworld, the Force bond was still working between the two of them. Ingrid knew exactly where Adrian's soul shards were in Netherworld when she was there. All of them.

”You can't implement or give it to me what I want and crave. Not even Darth Voracitos could do it.” nor did the woman find a solution to it in the more than three hundred years she had spent there.

This world was dead, so she didn’t really care if it might become even more dead. However, there was something the man said and it seemed interesting.

”But… Maybe I’ll even let you to continue this ritual, and finished it, if I get answers that I like. How do you envision the Maw without the Sith? What would be your goals then?” she inquired.

 

[Erion Justeene]

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

Superious was very close to the main chamber now and like the outside, there were a few lava rivers nearby, well trickles but enough to be cautious. There were a few cheeky acolyte graffiti on the smooth walls. A few Darksider jokes, something about a Mace and an open window. Despite everything, Superious was not without humour and he couldn't help huff a snort of laughter at it.

But he'll keep what he saw secret as he had also seen his bad joke plasma cut on the wall of this same corridor, he had a terrible grasp of what is a punchline, but he found it funny anyway. He was 14 at the time. 30-year-old bad joke archived forever for others to see.

Soon enough he found himself in a chamber with several entrances which give this place its name. Focusing on where the signature is coming from, Superious headed down the central corridor, it was indeed noticeably hotter than he intended to be. Which didn't bother him too much, he has felt and seen worse. But now is not to focus on a tangent. Because that would get him hurt and he needed to be in full health to further the Maw's causes.

Which leads him to a clearing of the depths of the Catacombs, the air shimmering with the heat, this is where the presence was, he needed to be aware of ambushes as the hill was an excellent spot to set one up. If he learned anything from Tython is that the most unorthodox strategies worked well, that and to not go into battle arrogant about winning, because it is not 100% guaranteed.

<"Come out, come out, said the spider to the fly."> He mused to himself while coming into the area fully from the south corridor.

 

[Eina L'lerim-Vandiir]

Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The Light of Ashla
Champion and Avatar of Ashla​

Objective: Try to stop the ritual.
Location: Fortress Vader
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Lord Odion

[ Valkyrjan ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

”I don't care where the wounds come from. Even if the Light side would cause them, I would still be here to prevent them and heal the wounds. I don't care about the fight between the Jedi and the Sith.“ she told the man honestly.

She was different; different from the moment of birth. Yes, one of Ashla’s greatest champion was her husband, a Jedi, a Crusader; but Eina was never a Jedi, even if she was the incarnation of light. True, the Sith consider her as an abomination since her existence. She accepted their path, just as she accepted the path of Bogan. She did not try to convince anyone to give up their views, their principles.

Of course, if someone tried to hurt any worlds and others, she acted against it, against them. She helped who was in need, the vulnerable, the weak. From both sides. She never refused to help anyone if they wanted to recover, to heal.

Of course, she had to fight Bogan's followers more times than those on the other side. But she still didn’t like to fight the living. She was still a healer in this world, dimension. Protector and defender of all souls. She reserved military commander title for Netherworld, against the demons, and against the Dark Three, whom they known as the Maw's Avatars.

She sighed, in tired tone at the sight of the lightsaber. There was grief and sorrow in her gaze and in her blue eyes. Eina shook her head slowly.

”Why does every mortal do this?“ she asked him.

She did not consider herself a divine being, the living beings were mortal to her only because Eina lived in the Netherworld and she and her kind had a much longer lifespan than the inhabitants of Realspace. It was then that she felt Hei, aka Heinrich Faust , was also nearby, her adopted-brother.

”Fighting and violence are never the answer and solution. I don’t want to fight you if that can be avoided. Please stand aside and leave in peace.“ she told and offered to him.

 

[Jas Katis]

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

BAKARA​

It was a suspicion back at the briefing table, it was a feeling in his gut when they flew in and no resistance was pressed against their gunships, now it was the simple reality of their situation when they touched down and not a single Mawite was coming at them. They were in a trap.

”Of course they needed to make it difficult.” He grumbled to himself as he looked around at the troops deploying in the area. They wasted no time in setting up defenses and laying out a spot for the gunships to circulate. It was risky to say the least, especially given the circumstances. But they needed an anchor for when they got to kicking down doors.

<< I'll be here, close to you, not leaving the team or the formation! I'm just covering you. >>

:: Copy that, Chameleon. Keep your eyes open, and keep the channel going. And if you see a Galidraani with one eye and an odd helmet, you tell me immediately. :: He answered instantly, walking over to link up with the Acklay team. :: First company! Let’s move out. Rest of you, get this base in order. And keep your helmets sealed. :: He spoke over the open comms for the troops to hear. The squads linked up and carefully moved deeper into the Forge, checking all of their corners and scanning anything that looked odd.

Everyone knew exactly what kind of mission this was going to be.

The toxic gas and smoke dropped by the artillery still hung thick in the air, filtering into all kinds of places, poisoning and burning anything exposed to it. Jas quickly flipped through his vision modes to look around them as they moved forward. He could feel Barran’s presence through the Force, the warlord wasn’t that far away.

:: Getting the Maw out of this place is going to be a chore. :: He commented, peering around a corner with his rifle at the ready as he moved with Acklay squad. He kept his annunciator off for the moment in hopes of keeping a low profile. The trademark sound of lightsabers igniting brought a smirk to his features. :: Good job, Chameleon. :: He spoke up as he continued on.

The silence was horrid. The Maw could be anywhere at any moment, they were likely already watching them. More shells whistled overhead, coating the district in another thick cloud of smoke and gas. The rest of the company did the same as them, carefully moving ahead and scouting the areas, buildings and other places that could potentially hide the Maw from them.

Jas hoped that they would show themselves soon enough. He was itching for a fight, itching for another shot at the Warlord.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

​

Nearby: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Lord Odion Erion Justeene Alessandra Io Valery Noble Darth Ptolemis
Facing: Ingrid L'lerim
Objective: 1

The Wound in the Force was surprised, shocked that the Empress herself would indulge the monster in some conversation. He couldn’t remember the last time there had been some civility between combatants. Most of the time he dealt with a brief introduction before the crossing of blades. In the end it felt somewhat refreshing to know some people would wanna know the madness beneath the flesh. Even more surprising was how open the Empress was, he had heard of her reputation as a diplomat, but truth be told he expected her to act like the rest of them.

Yet she stood before him, speaking rather than fighting. He questioned what the galaxy was coming to, especially if she spoke on how she might let the dread lord conduct the ritual. She spoke of how one of the Sith’s old guard tried to help, still she accomplished very little. Seeing how he was brought back from chaos, from hell itself there were ways to cheat death. One interesting thing she said was how not every Maw wanted the Sith, he would make a note later to find how she knew of such information.

When she inquired on what would come of the Maw, he turned to face her if almost eager to answer her. “The Sith themselves are deluded into thinking the dark side answers them. In truth we are the shadows humble servants… While the Sith seek control I desire to go above that… Under my rule the Maw will finish its sacred journey… Be it bringing the Avatars here or not, I desire the death of all life. I will consume until there is nothing left, and the galaxy will be reborn… As the Maw intended without Sith Machinations.” He said revealing more to her.

Around her stood the black monoliths. The monoliths themselves glowed bright red in Sith runes. He continued. “Unlike any Sith be it Carnifex or Solipsis’s Ilk I’m not Sith… I can accomplish what they could not.” His voice spat out the words like they were venom. Showing that Ren had hated the Sith with a deep passion. There was more to the Wrath than he had already revealed. Feeling the intense energies of the dark side locus surrounding him, he gave the empress a look of excitement. “Shall we begin with the opening rites?”

Raising his hand up to closing the palm into a fist, he moved the three glowing black monoliths, raising them until they were locked in place. Memories flashes of his earlier attempt to open the door had ended in failure. This time he would succeed, he would make sure of it as before him started to form a red beam of light. The stone glowed brightly as he slammed his other palm on the rock. It had started to begun.

Outside of the Fortress, if one looked at the sky they could see storm clouds form, lightning crackled while thunder shook the ground. The lava around the Fortress started to roar violently. The red beam inside of the cave, representing the door started to glow brightly. As he started to take hold with both hands in directing the dark energy that swirled around the nexus. “Yes, show me the way.” He said with glee as he felt the energies intensify. No doubt others outside could feel the cold that would chill them to the bone. It had begun.

 

[Boluc Laar]

X E S H _ O N E
TASK FORCE XESH
MUSTAFAR | GAHENN DROID FOUNDRY
Maijan Paisea | Rika Hiro | Tiric Sar'andor

Things went down south, in just mere moments. It would be even more complicated with the two individuals whom approached Maijan and Boluc. Two Alliance compatriots, both seeming to belong to the SIA. They couldn’t know who they were nor the nature of their delicate activities; therefore, they needed to be disposed of. A sad thing to have to put down a fellow soldier, but they worth more dead than alive if they were to discover their operations and later declassify it to the public. The Alliance was divided enough in the current state of things, they didn’t need to inspire radicals to rise up against the state and spark civil unrest.

To Tiric he spared no words to, remaining silent as he stared down the agent. Weapons weren’t raised…yet. Another agent appeared in the scene, in affiliation with Tiric. Grabbing her datapad instead of a weapon to make report on their whereabouts to their superiors.

That would cost them their lives.

Wordlessly, a quick draw for his pistol and aimed it at Tirik. A particle beam was fired hoping it was enough to neutralize him. Not knowing if it rendered Tiric, he aimed his attention towards Rika to fire another beam at her.

 

[Alessandra Io]

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

<<You should not be here, sister.>> The Chaplain growled, putting up a front of annoyance and anger, but there was a certain sadness that lingered underneath the veneer. It was an irrational display, one that not only betrayed her programming, but also the core of her personality. When had she ever been angry or short with anyone from her family? She loved them all to the point of blistering excess, with Akemi being the most prominent example of that. And yet, the image she projected was not one of love, but of fear and despair.

<Where are you? You need to come with me after this mission and we need to talk. Whatever is going on, you need to tell me so I can help you. OK?>

<<I am in the catacombs, beneath the Fortress. There is a Sith Lord in my vicinity. I require no assistance.>> She answered, her tone short and robotic. <<You should leave. I’m no use to you like this, sister.>> The Chaplain paused, a digital tear slipping from her eye as her programming began to fray under the strain of repressed emotions.

<<I’m no use to our family.>>

While simultaneously maintaining a conversation with her sister in a digital world of the Io local network that was entirely separate from what was beginning to transpire in the Catacombs, Alessandra cast forth one of her chakrams towards the Sith’s neck as soon as he came into view, the bladed disc soaring through the air at transonic velocity, thereby crossing the 32 meters that separated the two combatants from each other in less than a split-second as the aerodynamic weapon flew on a course to potentially inflict a fatal decapitation on the Ubese. The chakram’s presence in the Force was clouded, to the point that detection might prove difficult, if not even impossible. Nevertheless, Alessandra was prepared for the possibility that the attack would fail to immediately kill the Sith.

At the very least, the maneuver might work to provide the HRD with an initial assessment of the Ubese’s defenses and capabilities, an advantage in intelligence that she could capitalize on later, if necessary.

Spoiler: Loadout

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

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

JEDI RUINS OF MUSTAFAR

Writing with: Valery Noble

watch your back
​

"It has been a while, Ptolemis,"

The dark figure stepped out of the shadow of a half-collapsed ruin and stopped to look up at the Jedi Master atop the building. – Have I truly ever left you, Valery Noble? – Calmly, Darth Ptolemis unclips his lightsaber hilt from his utility belt under his ebon robe.
​

"I know why you're here, and I'll make sure you leave empty-handed, if at all,"

In an unexpected twist of Fate, from behind her, also at ground level, another Darth Ptolemis emerges from the murky shades, and speaks up next. – Are you so certain… – Then, a third Ptolemis finishes the question from the side. – … That you have the advantage here? – The rolling thunder of an unseen lightning discharge escapes the volcanic clouds above, accentuating the unfolding nightmare.
​

Completing the circle around the Jedi Master, a fourth and final image of Ptolemis reveals itself, one that ignites its crimson lightsaber; one by one, the rest of the Ptolemis' follow suit. Around the Jedi Battlemaster, in the four cardinal directions is a Shadow Hand, their masks' hollow eyes swallowing hope and strength the more one peers into them.

But which one is the real Ptolemis? Is even one of them real? What is real? Mouthless whispers repeat these questions again and again as the four identical Shadow Hands slowly start closing in on the trapped Jedi. Their bodily movements are completely in sync, but their minute movements are beyond eerie; in uneven intervals, either their heads jolt to the side, or their gait quickens for the duration of a single step, then slow back down. The whispers are getting louder and louder, digging ever deeper into her subconscious, and when the tension is highest, all at once, the four doppelgängers of Ptolemis pounce at the Master on the high ground.

Should all four manage to even land on the building, they would all open their sequence of attacks differently; one rolls and stabs at her foot, while another swings horizontally at waist level. One mirage attacks with a downward swing from up high, while the last repeats the bottom-to-top cycle all over again, until the Battlemaster is pushed to the absolute limit.​

​