Breaker of Minds
Location: Roon, Jungles of Daba'r
Tags: DECEASED Aron Gowrie | Shakka Bralor
- Tu'teggacha flees the battle in his shuttle
- He abandons the remaining Drudges and Moon Children to cover his escape
- He brings with him the Sith artifacts that the Maw was able to excavate
Tu'teggacha's part in this battle was over. His forces were crushed.
Turning back on the shuttle's boarding ramp to behold the battlefield behind him, the Ebruchi surveyed the grim scene. The enemy tanks and their Mandalorian support had just about mopped up the delaying tactics he'd thrown at them; the last of the Drudges and Moon Children alike were falling to shells, blaster bolts, and the explosions of the mining charges in their midst. Sometimes they managed to take some of the enemy with them. All too often, it seemed, they were nothing before the power of even one Mandalorian warrior, taken down in their dozens without apparent effort. The Taskmaster had no answer to such champions.
No Sith, no warlords, no Mawite Mandalorians, only his fragile minions.
But in the end it did not matter. With the lives of countless mad clones and strand-cast abominations, he had bought his own escape. If they could have stayed on Roon longer, they could have accomplished more; dug up more artifacts, enslaved more colonists, ravaged more outlying towns for supplies. But in the short time before the expected Mandalorians and unexpected Imperials had arrived, they had managed to unearth a few crates of dark relics, and that would have to be enough. He would not risk his own rubbery hide to continue to dig for trinkets on this distant planet. It was time to go back to the safety of Mawite space.
Hopefully some of the artifacts would be worth the blood they'd paid.
His withdrawal, of course, would leave The Mongrel's forces - engaged with Clan Krayt to the north - exposed to southern attack. The warlord, though fearsome, could not withstand three encircling armies any more than Tu'teggacha could withstand two. He would be forced to withdraw as well if he did not want to be crushed. But it would take time, at least some, for the enemies of the Maw to reach and surround his forces... and they were quite literally dug in, using the power of their tunneling machines to escape the pounding of enemy air support. With any luck, they would be able to endure long enough for a fighting withdrawal.
As the shuttle ramp closed up behind him, leaving him in the darkened hold beside the crates of Sith artifacts, Tu'teggacha reflected on the monumental nature of the task that the Brotherhood had set for itself. The choice to wage war against the entire galaxy led to situations like this - enemies at every turn, always outnumbering the Mawites by a considerable margin. Their faith, and a healthy dose of surprise, had managed to carry them to early victories like the destruction of Csilla. Their cunning and dark knowledge had led them to other great successes, like the raids on Coruscant and (more or less) Nirauan.
But this war had gone on for ten long years now, a decade of fire and blood.
With the galaxy united against them, surprise gone, knowledge spent...
... how much longer could they keep up this fight?
It was a question that was well above Tu'teggacha's pay grade. No doubt the Dark Voice was concocting wicked sorcerous schemes and clever hyperspace maneuvers even now, strategies that would bring them further glory and carnage. But as the Ebruchi looked out the viewports of the shuttle, watching the ground forces he had abandoned being cut down by the encroaching Wildcats, he wondered if he should ponder the question anyway - not for the Maw as a whole, but for himself. He was no true believer, expecting a reward from the Avatars. He had joined the Maw for a chance at power, and nothing else. But now he had to ask...
... was there a right time to cut and run, not just from the battle...
... but from the war as a whole?