Percival Io
Missionary Man
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As much as Percival’s programmed hatred of the Alliance and the Jedi burned, the Brotherhood of the Maw posed an arguably greater threat to galactic stability. They were the western successors of the Bryn’adul, destroying worlds and committing genocide like the Lobsters before them.
The Chaplain found their doctrine repulsive, their mantra of war, death, rebirth a grotesque perversion of the very concept of faith. He took great satisfaction in sending them to their deaths.
A Mawite succumbed to the blast of Percival’s disruptor, his vaporized body falling as ash upon the Citadel floor. Percival lifted the smoking barrel, letting it cool before he took another shot.
In the meantime, his three companions—his identical “brother” Scott, and Boris and Bram, two hulking Model 3 units—continued to pummel the marauders’ ranks with fire. The sound of automatic slugs pinging off the walls and floor were drowned out by the thunderclap of Scott’s sonic blaster.
<<Something tells me no matter how many of these guys we kill, more will keep coming,>> Bram remarked to the others via technopathy, pausing to reload.
Percival had similar suspicions. Rather than thinning out as their forces were depleted, the ranks of marauders had doubled, then tripled, then quadrupled. They all seemed to be coming from inside the Citadel, rather than outside it—a statistical improbability, to say the least.
<<Let’s see where they’re getting the extra manpower from,>> Percival replied.
The Neutralizers gravitated toward the center of the Iron Citadel, where Mawites in need of killing seemed most abundant. Though the droids mowed down marauders, the sheer numbers of the enemy slowed their progress considerably. By the time they reached the source, the area was quite clogged with entrenched enemy forces. But Percival was less concerned about them, and more with the mysterious portal that was allowing the Brotherhood to transport massive amounts of troops to Empress Teta.
<<What the feth is that?>> Scott broadcasted the thoughts on everyone’s mind.
<<A true invasion,>> Percival mused with a grim smirk. <<There’s got to be a way to close that portal…>>
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