Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Objective: Defeat Alor Harert
Location: The Devourer
Equipment: Beskar'gam, Teroch Shield, Beskad, Blaster Rifle
Allies: Eternal Empire, Enclave, Etc.
Enemies: Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert ; Dar'manda; Sith

Overconfidence was the great equalizer. In this battle Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert held many of the advantages but she may have underestimated her opponent if her tactics were any indication then and there.

After the Beskad had swept Dodhorn's legs out from udner her its momentum would carry it across to the left of Garrus, this was a natural movement of his arm. Unfortunately for the Warrior he could do nothing as his opponent gripped his shield with both hands but he made the best of his situation. The Shield had been angled back, its upper rim covering Garrus shoulder when he tried to clip Dodhorn with the lower rim. It would make her easier for her to grab onto it, it was right there for the taking but there was more.

As Dodhorn used her grip on the shield to pull Garrus forward he was unbalanced, he stumbled ahead but in the same breadth he'd pump his left arm and extend it in the process. Driving his shield forward so that as Dodhorn hit the ground its lower rim would likewise plant itself across her torso at height with her solar plexus almost instantly. It was a hard blow that was meant to shatter bone but Beskar'gam was equally resilient and so Garrus didn't doubt if he landed cleanly it still wouldn't have the full effect...

"Y----"

...he'd started to say something but by then she'd extended her arms to throw Garrus back away. He'd never get to say a word however his actions spoke louder than his words ever could of.

As he came off his feet, thrown backwards Garrus backhanded his Beskad. It had been carried across with the previous blow so it remained in prime position to complete a backhanded motion under the cover of the shield. While this did nothing to stop Dodhorn from hurling the Warrior away it did mean that her arms, gripping either side of his shield as they were were also in the path of his blade. The Beskad, its edge rotating outwards with the backhanded swing of Garrus arm would clear under cover of the shield ensuring Dodhorn's right arm and then her left were both in the path of the sword. Its was brutal, the blow meant to cleave limbs from the body and break bones.

Even if the Beskad didn't dismember her limbs, ripping them away it still had the power to shatter bone through armor and rip her hands from their grasp of his shield.

Nonetheless Garrus flew from her, thrown backwards where he impacted the wall hard and slumped down into a half hunched position. As his head raised he was thankful for the Buy'ce as it covered a pained expression on his features as his left arm was likely dislocated at the very least....

"You should mind your arms in the arc of anothers sword."

...beneath his helm his breath was ragged, his bones ached and the throb in his left shoulder was undeniable. It would surprise him if his muscles were torn as well. All this and only now, flung away from his opponent did he note that the hull of the ship 'yawned' as though so great stress was being put on its frame, buckling and twisting it in places.
 
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"Affirmative Overseer Harris, I will have my science staff on stand-by to receive the transmissions and begin working with your own." Sarilia said moving from the bridge toward the lift to go to the hangar and meet with the staff as they accepted the first transports of evacuees. She was experienced with those in great turmoil so she was going to do what she could herself in order to help. Command was delegated to her first officer as they were now in a holding pattern near the Overseer's vessel to provide close support.

The medics were already in a tizzy as the people were brought off the transports. There were plenty that were capable of surviving with minimal treatment but the ones that needed the most work were always going to be first priority. "Have the junior staff work on the minor injuries; I trust your judgment on who needs what." she said walking into the middle of the hangar and looking around. This was a disaster zone for sure but what the Hell was going on down there? She had heard that the Brotherhood of the Maw were a bunch of remorseless savages, but this outstripped any imagination she had about them. They were a blight on the galaxy and had to be stopped. It was enough to make her put aside her distaste for subservience.

Stretchers were going to and fro, and one stopped nearby. An elderly man lay there, clearly injured in what was an act of war. Sarilia saw her own uncle in his face. She looked down and squeezed his hand to reassure him that he was not alone. He passed away a moment later. Sarilia just looked at the ground as the dead man was taken away. She had seen this so many times before, but it never got easier. She shifted her gaze up to the family of the man, knowing they knew as well. There was nothing she could say to them to make it better. She shared a knowing look with them, her own face expressing the deepest sorrows as well. Sarilia motioned them toward the intake staff, because really that was all she could muster at the moment. Witnessing first hand the plight of those in situations like this always stung deeply, regardless of the need for military decorum.

Trinity Harris Trinity Harris
 

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The Unchained

Engaging:
Genesis Draykin Genesis Draykin

Allies: Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert , Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr , Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren , Zachariel Steelblood

Enemies: Anashja Tal Anashja Tal , Silhana Cadera Silhana Cadera , Mairéad Solus Mairéad Solus , Tovald Kahmen’’a Tovald Kahmen’’a , Garrus Garon Garrus Garon ,

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam

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Khamul had seen arrogance many times upon the field of battle. Many had sought to take his head, foolishly believing they stood even the slightest chance of bringing him down. It was that arrogance, as well as the eagerness to make a name for themselves that had always caused them to know defeat in the end. The Unchained scoffed at the insult in his own tongue, his own words cutting like a seething blade through the air.

"So, you know a bit of our language. Perhaps you do know a thing or two about us..."

His first strike was met with his opponent's own weapon, and though he had failed to deal a killing blow, he had managed to push her back. His next slash had found it's mark, albeit only somewhat. Mandalore's Lament slashed through his opponent's armor as he continued his vicious advance.

"It's a shame, perhaps in another life, you would have made a decent foundling. Unfortunately... we'll never know."

He quickly rushed to close the gap, hoping to put an end to the wretch's life, only to change his trajectory as he saw the blaster drawn from her side. He almost moved to block the shot, but soon realized that she wasn't aiming at him...

His eyes darted downward to see the explosives at their feet, prompting the Demon to thrust his free hand forth. Calling out to the great hatred and darkness within, he let out a furious push of energy, sending the explosives across the hall and straight toward his opponent. If the shot still hit one of the explosives, the Unchained would at least have a moment to react before they were set off. Not an ideal outcome, but one that might bring him victory nonetheless.

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Location: Secret Prison Facility
Tags: Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr



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Kallan had succeeded, it seemed. Mercy believed that he was Asher.

She clung to his voice like a lifeline, one stable path amid a stormy sea that sought to drag her down into death. How long he could keep it up, Kallan did not know. He was grasping for Asher's memories, trying to retell things that he hadn't truly, personally experienced as if they were his own recollections. It was no easy task, more like reading a book and impersonating one of its characters than genuinely reminiscing. But if he stopped, if he let Keilara realize that Asher wasn't here with her, she would surely give up the fight. She had been ready to die for a long, long time... but he needed her to live a little longer.

He needed her to live for the twins.

He needed her to live because he was afraid to die along with her.

~ Before you there was only emptiness growing inside me, ~ he replied. ~ I had been promised paradise, but I was beginning to see that I would never reach it. The Maw would never let me die. ~ Kallan could almost feel The Mongrel's bitter hopelessness, channeled through those borrowed memories. He had been too useful a champion for the Brotherhood to ever let go of... so no matter how many times he had been maimed, his flesh torn and his limbs hacked off and his organs ruined, he had always been rebuilt. His humanity had been stripped away piece by piece, death always eluding him.

~ Until you gave me something to live for. Someone to live for. ~

Kallan scrambled for another memory, something else to anchor Mercy and keep her with him. ~ I did not truly realize that I loved you, that I did not want to live in a galaxy without you, until Dromund Kaas. When I heard you were in danger, when I thought the enemy special forces might take you away from me, nothing else mattered. I knew I had to save you, no matter the cost. ~ The Mongrel had abandoned his own retreating forces, badly damaged after a confrontation with the Eternal Empire, to dash into the city and help Mercy. It had been a turning point for them, a moment of recognition.

It was when he had first admitted he could feel love.

--------------------------------------
"Begin the procedure," the Taskmaster commanded. He was not squeamish; he was a torturer, and had done unspeakable things to all manner of beings. So he stayed to watch as the medical droids began their work. Carefully restraining Mercy, holding her steady so that she could not thrash and throw off their scalpels, they began to cut. The twins had become turned in the womb; a cesarean section was the only option if mother and babies were to survive. It would be painful in the extreme for the mother, even with the painkillers now being injected into her veins... but she seemed faraway, lost in her own mind.

"Make haste! Do not jeopardize their health with any delay!"
 
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Location: The Devourer, above Panatha
Engaging: Silhana Cadera Silhana Cadera | Anashja Tal Anashja Tal

  • Kralmus is wounded by blasterfire and thrown from his feet by the damage to the Devourer
  • He gets back up and jetpack-charges Silhana, using his axe's bottom spike as a spear

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The pink-armored Mando told Kralmus her name, and then she shot him.

In fairness, he'd quite literally asked for it. The blaster bolts streaked in at him, good shots aimed at vulnerable areas, gaps between the plates of his armor. The cannibal had left himself completely open, arms outstretched, head tilted back. He'd been expecting a melee attack, if she attacked at all, and instead had been greeted with a pair of pistol shots. Well, fair enough. Silhana was playing to her strengths; smaller and less armored than he was, she was better served by ranged combat. If she could take him down without getting into range of his mighty axe, she stood a much better chance of surviving their encounter. He would surely crush her in a simple contest of strength.

Silhana's aim was good, but the galaxy itself conspired against her... for at that very moment, the figurative spine of the Devourer broke under the power of an Empress. The entire prison block corridor buckled, deck plating crumpling as the formerly-straight hallway suddenly twisted upward in the middle. Kralmus was thrown from his feet just as the blaster bolts impacted. The shot to his armor's hip joint, which might have crippled him, mostly hit his thigh plate, though he felt the searing pain of a partial impact just below his right hip. That was going to make walking a painful chore. The elbow shot glanced off his vambrace, knocking his arm back... and carrying his axe with it.

The huge weapon lodged itself in the bulkhead wall, becoming stuck as Kralmus fell.

Well, it seemed that perhaps playtime was over. External factors had begun to conspire against the cannibal, tearing up the ship. It was possible that these internal ruptures of the deck would create a way for Silhana to escape; the prison block was no longer his fully-secure little playground... and the prisoner that Silhana had come to rescue, Anashja Tal Anashja Tal , might already be loose. He needed to finish this. "Now that's more like it," Kralmus growled through gritted teeth, using his stuck axe to lever himself back to his feet. His leg screamed protests at him, blaster-seared flesh twisting painfully as he moved... but he'd dealt with such pain before, and no doubt would again.

"You've finally made this interesting, little Cadera. I've worked up a real appetite now!"

With a mighty heave, Kralmus managed to tear his stuck axe out of the deck plating, flipping it around so that the spike at the bottom faced his foe. Then he copied Silhana's earlier tactic, firing up his jetpack and zooming up the corridor straight at her. With one hand he held the axe haft like a spear, ready to skewer her on its songsteel-beskar point. He'd tried the same thing at their last encounter, but she'd managed to dodge him in the open air. This time, though, they were in an enclosed corridor; it would be much harder to evade him. With his other hand, the cannibal once again produced the wrist blade that had injured Silhana once before.

Two stabbing options. Hopefully one would hit home.

Preferably before she shot him again.
 
Overseer for Imperial Scientific Development


Dr. Trinity Harris DXenbo DAnthro
Overseer for the Comittee for Scientific Development


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Location: Aboard the Shield of Sacrifice over Panatha
Objective: Heal the planet and or save its people
Tags: Adenn Kyramud Adenn Kyramud Mig Gred Mig Gred Tegan Starfall Tegan Starfall Shani Shani Niki Priddy Niki Priddy STRATCOM STRATCOM The Battalion The Battalion Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim

Weapon: HH38 Geysa Hybrid Pistol
Vibrokukri
Riding: Phantom
Accompanied by: Plushee Companion Droid
Wearing:
Hersir Imperial Uniform
Guardema Bio-suit
OPBC-01e
Ship: Carrack Class Science Vessel ENS Mihaly - docked aboard Shield of Sacrifice
  • 1 military support and 2 storage mission pods

ENS Shield of Sacrifice

2 × Adrian Class Star Healer
ENS Beauty of Truth
ENS Guiding Hand


4 x Eternal Class Star Destroyers
ENS Scorched Suns
ENS Valkyrie
ENS Barbaric Hand
ENS Imperial Justice


6 x Ashkelon Class Escort Frigates

Several squadrons of
Bjarga Class Medical Corvettes and
Læknar-class Medical dropships arriving independently.

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Data was quickly transmitted to the ship of Imperator Sarilia Ellwin Imperator Sarilia Ellwin It contained information on the force induced madness and the breakdown in brain functions that was resulting in so many brutal deaths, family and friends were turning on each other like savages, certain information had to be omitted due to their status as classified, but most of the medical information was available to the new vessel, a vessel that Trinity could now see out of her viewing port.

The Overseer had gathered her chief astrophysicist and medical officer into her briefing room to discuss the voidstone tests.

"Sensors are reporting a peak reduction in rift intensity of 38% for around 16 minutes, before a return to 90% of previous levels, it looks like the voidstone is having a residual effect in the seeded areas, but it is minimal."

"Our ground based medics indicate that the inoculated sentients are showing stabilisation in their symptoms, a large number are acting as if sedated, I guess almost like they have been deactivated?"

The Overseer looked at her senior scientific advisors in her briefing room as they poured over the results from the recent tests. "Interesting, do you think this madness could be an active control dependent on connection the the rifts? Or at least an active influence."

"Perhaps, severing the connection to the force seems to have put the patient's into a dormant state, but they are not improving."

Trinity though for a moment and looked at the Admiral who sat quietly, having little to add to the scientific discussion. "The ENS Mihaly is the fastest ship in our fleet correct? Please can It be readied for immediate departure. Have as many if the patients as can be safely moved, placed aboard the ship with their medical attendants. Then have it plot a course out of the Galactic plane, I don't care where to, just as fast and as far as possible, maybe use this small satellite galaxy as a navigation point. I want to see if distance from the rifts has any effect on the patient's condition."

"Your thinking being if the madness is stimulated by the rifts, then evacuation, or closure of the rifts may have a curative effect?"

"Precisely. OK, that is our plan, let's get too it. You are all dismissed, thank you."

She smiled and her staff left her alone with her thoughts for a moment, just in time for her message from the base below to come through on the priority channel.

<<"Overseer, the empress is unavailable. STRATCOM must be prepared to make decisions when the situation calls for it!">>

<<This is Overseer Harris, The Empress flagship is engaged and may be uncontactable for some time, I am in direct contact with the other members of STRATCOM. Please be assured that The Comittee will act swiftly in the name of the Empress.

I have requested that the Ashlans begin deployment of their Mercy Pods to cover key areas at the star port for the evacuation, you should see the pods begin to land shortly. Harris out.>>


Almost as she began speaking, orbital insertion pods started streaking down from Ashlan ships and slamming in to the ground before deploying their shields, this would help protect the area from bombardment, but a sustained attack would still penetrate them eventually. But Trinity found herself staring into the black glass wall of the empty briefing room, with the Empress unable to make the final call due to her action on the front lines, it would be down to the STRATCOM whether to deploy the weapon or not, and that decision would be heavily dependant on her own advice given her tactical position. She hoped she was ready to deal with that decision, as long as she let the science lead her, she felt she would be OK.
 
Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom
Mongrel's Shadow and his widow; Matriarch of the Scar Hounds Tribe; Guardian of Mongrel's armour and sword
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Objective: Survive
Location: Secret Prison Facility
Equipment: N/A
Writing With: Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha (and as Kallan) | Closed
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[ Come back… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
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  • Mercy still think it's Asher with her.
  • The caesarean section begins.
Mercy #1
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~ Mercy ~
He didn't even have his original, intact body when we first met on Carlac. He already had cybernetic arms and a metal mask on his face. Not quite, but partly, around his mouth and maybe his eyes too. I don't remember, these were still Ziare's memories, and even though he melted back into me, I couldn't remember. Just for the horror that he was afraid of Asher, that they wanted to kill each other, we wanted to kill each other to survive. I remembered that they didn't let him die. That at that time meat was a weakness for him, he felt disgusted towards Ziare, because we had lost nothing from our body. Later he did everything to keep it that way.

I remembered that mission after mission, war after war, he lost more and more of his humanity. One of the last times he flew into space. I wasn't there, I only heard later, that's where he suffered the brain injury because his brain didn't get enough oxygen. I knew that wound as if it were in my mind. It took many years to get it right. Together, only I cared for him. It never healed completely, but the rest of his mind took over and essentially healed, worked perfectly. And he became more and more stronger.

~ I miss the fights, the joint missions where we can flirt. We started there, at Dromund Kaas. ~

After the kiss I had the courage to try to flirt with him, there was nothing to lose, at most he would have told me to stop and not continue. But he didn't, he went in too. None of us were good at this…

~ I still feel embarrassed about how inexpert and clumsy we were. ~ I tried to chuckle, but I was weak.

For the first time, after the wedding, I told him that it was a miracle that we had found each other years before. We were both inexperienced, but of course that was after I had thought otherwise...

~ I always thought you had a big harem at home on Exegol and spent your free time with them. I think you had a good laugh at that the first time I told it to you… ~

For a long time we didn't even know what we were feeling, I thought I was attracted to his power, to what he represented, the strength and power. And later that to what I can give him, the touches. My telepathic power also really only started to unfold on Dromund Kaas.

~ When you told me to take care of myself, not the task, or hang on because you're on your way… I thought it was just comfort to a dying person. I've never seen you show emotion to anyone before, or to take care of anyone. Everyone was just an asset for you. I didn't even dare to hope that what you said was true… my prince charming… ~

"My prince charming…" I breathed.

I loved when he behaved like that, for the first time in my life I could feel myself important, that I mattered to someone. That someone sees me not only as a tool, not only as an object of use, but as a person. As a woman. I was impressed and it was exciting that he reacted that way, that he felt that way. I felt exceptional, special.

From what filtered through from reality, I felt cold arms holding me down, but I didn't have the strength to fight. A stab, the pain subsided, I felt cold on my back, as if I were lying on my back. But I also felt Asher's hand, the warmth of his hand. I blindly tried to reach for his other hand as well. Then there in the past, I didn't believe it was coming, I accepted death after killing dozens of agents. But the last two were too much.

The knife in the agent's hand, I felt the cold steel, I screamed… in reality, as the ice-cold blade cut into my belly. The painkiller hasn't worked enough yet.

"ASHEEER!" I cried out for… after my husband.

I didn't scream during the memories, everything happened so fast there. I didn't even have time to fall to the ground because he caught me. Despite the cold, spiky armour, it held me so gently that I didn't even feel it. I remember you talking to me, asking me to rest. That you lifted me up, carefully so I wouldn't get hurt even more…

She was the only thing in the galaxy he didn't want to hurt.

"I was the only thing in the galaxy you didn't want to hurt." I whispered.

~ I was the only thing in the galaxy you didn't want to hurt. ~ I thought the same.

After the previous sharp cold feeling, I now felt warmth, it could have been blood, and another pain. I tried to free myself to crawl away from the pain, but I was unable to move because of the hands holding me…

Another scream, from a distance, I don't know if it was me or someone else…

~ Asher… stay with me… please…

… I'm afraid… ~


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Kybo Ren

Pirate of the Stars, Knight of Ren
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OBJECTIVE: TWILIGHT OF THE GODS
LOCATION: Aboard the Devourer
TAGS:
Maw: Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert
Coalition: Tovald Kahmen’’a Tovald Kahmen’’a Ivixa Nera'kas Ivixa Nera'kas Silhana Cadera Silhana Cadera Anashja Tal Anashja Tal Garrus Garon Garrus Garon
Directly engaging: Rath Nihro Rath Nihro



As Kybo began to turn and ordered to regroup. There would be a strong tug from the man's belt as the shroudsaber would be ripped from his person as it flew into Rath's expecting hand. Under the dark lighting it might have been unexpected, or even anticipated.
"Oop-" Kybo continued down the hallway and ducked to another corridor, routing to his men even as he lost his little trophy. No matter. If he was lucky, he could get it back off of the warrior's corpse.

"That's the plan," he stated as he resumed his walk down the corridor. Draining the energy from the electronics and crushing whatever lights there might be. He poured that energy into his saber's cell, effectively recharging the battery as Rath ventured down the hallway under the cloak of darkness. While his presence itself was hidden by the Force, there was a thick aura of fear that wormed their way into the minds. Breaking down their willpower, making them see hallucinations like the shadows were somehow alive. Neither his sword nor his saber was ignited. Instead he took advantage of the dark alongside his armor's natural blending and his own steps being ghostly silent given the shadowsilk in his armor. Who's to say that Rath was right there? Or was it their own minds playing tricks with them?
Kybo reached one of his squads setting up a barricade and heavy weapons just as the lights dimmed again. One of the weapons, plugged into the ship's power junctions, suddenly deactivated.

"Hold your ground, boys, he's comin-" Kybo stopped as an intense sensation gripped him. Fear? It was different somehow. The reaction of his men around him made it clear, however. They began to react in fear, striking at unseen shadows. Others cowered.

"Oh ye lily-livered idiots! It's just a trick of the Force!" But even Kybo was feeling it. The area seemed to darken further. Was it just the lights?

She reached out into the Force, letting her power run through the ship so that the shadows reached everywhere in reality, and in the Force, they crawled everywhere like shadow tendrils. They were still neutral energies, even though she absorbed so much Dark Side energy. The red-haired woman embraced the ship around with her own power and then used telekinetic power to try to crush the Devourer.

The hull and spine of the ship wept as it broke. It didn't cause any tears on its surface, but it was like something breaking its spine, it cracked. Everyone on the ship felt as if an earthquake had shaken the huge ship. Corridors were bent and twisted, some doors were torn from their places, walls were torn in several places inside the ship, corridors were torn off. It was as if Ingrid was holding the ship in her grip, and was tightening her fist around the Devourer, to completely crush this ship.

"One way or another, your ritual will end, Wrath!" she told him.

The grip became even stronger, the hull creaked again...
The ship lurched under him, tossing him and his men to the side. This at least was no trick: the barricade and weapons were thrown about, and in the chaos, with men tossed about and Kybo trying to ground himself to the floor, he realised the aura of darkness had passed.

The blademane. Had to be. Some sort of Force power, and he was gone now. But there was only one place he could go.

"Damn it!" Leaving his men to regroup, he dashed towards the location of Kyrel, having lost Rath like a shadow. With luck, he'd intercept the warrior on his way there.
 
Silhana Lolaes'ra
Lynne Tal’kira aka Lady Orchid; The Angel-faced killer
Ver'alor (Lieutenant), member of the Clan Cadera; Bounty Hunter, Headmistress of the House Orchid and The Hounty Hunters' Guild
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Objective: Try to save the hostages.
Location: The Devourer
Equipment: 2x PV-16 "Sunfury" Pulse Pistol | 2x Beskad | Besar'gam | Mandalorian vambrace || Stealth field generator || OPBC-01m
Writing With: Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr | Open
Allies: Ivixa Nera'kas Ivixa Nera'kas | Tovald Kahmen’’a Tovald Kahmen’’a | Garrus Garon Garrus Garon | Mairéad Solus Mairéad Solus | Anashja Tal Anashja Tal | Genesis Draykin Genesis Draykin | Rath Nihro Rath Nihro | Open
Enemies: Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren | Vorm Vorm | Nal'Khem Szat Nal'Khem Szat | Kybo Ren Kybo Ren | Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze | Open
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[ Mando music ]
"Galactic Basic" | <"Mandalorian"> | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Sil seriously injures.
  • She tries to shoot Kralmus from melee range.
Sil #1
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Ivixa #1
Mairéad #1
Sil #2
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Kralmus #8

I know Kralmus said "hit him" and not "shot him", but there was no power in this galaxy that could make me hit him in close or melee combat. It happened once when I flew at him and the stunt ended with me being seriously injured. So nope! He got back into that theatrical pose. So I later regretted that I didn't aim at his neck or chin. It would have been much more unpleasant for him, I might even have been able to kill him. But as usual, I was out of luck, and I'll never know.

Feth!

As for my luck. I think I've already thought and hinted that I never was and I'm never lucky. Of course, this was also perfectly true at this moment too. The moment I shot, the whole corridor began to shake, twist, the whole thing moved, as if it had been shaken by some kind of earthquake. Seismic charge? I couldn't imagine what it could be, but I heard the creaking of metal. I tried with all my strength to stay on my feet. Pain shot through my side again from the sudden movements.

I couldn't see where I had shot or hit him, or if I had succeeded at all, but I recognized the sound of the beskar hitting the metal wall. As I looked up, I saw that Kralmus' spear was stuck in the bulkhead, but he was able to free it. And for me, I think this would be the moment to run away. But the whole hallway was still moving and it was hard to stop, especially since my side hurt so much. Based on the man's movement, it looked like I only succeeded in damaging him with the shots. And his voice sounded like he was in pain.

Maybe, maybe it was an equalisation, although I didn't see him bleeding. However, his words revealed that he was not going to stop fighting, but was just starting to get into it. I swallowed a big one as he freed his gun from the wall. Then he started towards me, just like I did not so long ago. The corridor was too narrow and too low, I could somehow knock the spear aside, but then I also saw the blade. I think it is easier to survive the stab than if he impaled me. I didn't have time to fire again because he was approaching too fast.

Feth!

As I moved and he came, I knocked the spear aside with my hand, which went right past me. However, it was painful and the pistol fell out of my hand, I could no longer avoid the other hit and him. The blade hit me right in the belly. I felt the ice cold "bite" of the blade as it went through the thinner armour and slipped into my stomach. I winced in pain and screamed, our armours clashed and the blade slipped deeper. My head in the helmet fell to his shoulder weakly as I gasped audibly from the pain, despite the helmet.

<"You're coming to hell with me!"> I hissed, my voice trembling with pain.

One pistol was already on the ground, the other still in my hand; I pressed the pistol to the upper part of his thigh, to the bend, where it meets the pelvis. As I did this I had to hold on to his shoulder with my other hand so that I wouldn't slip from the blade in my stomach and fall to the ground. If I succeeded, I pulled the trigger and fired the weapon. The pistol was nowhere near enough to tear off his legs, let alone his armour. But I was hoping it would be painful enough and would hurt him badly enough…

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Objective: Try to save the hostages.
Location: The Devourer
Equipment: Rifle, Sword, Magnetic Thermal Detonators, Thermite Explosives, Heavy Blaster Pistol, Carbine
Allies: EE |
Ivixa Nera'kas Ivixa Nera'kas | Silhana Cadera Silhana Cadera | Garrus Garon Garrus Garon | Mairéad Solus Mairéad Solus | Anashja Tal Anashja Tal | Genesis Draykin Genesis Draykin | Rath Nihro Rath Nihro |
Enemies: Maw
Tag: Anashja Tal Anashja Tal

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A big ship means time wasted looking in every room. There was still no sign of Anashja Tal and despite his optimism, the pessimistic voices drowned them with unhappy scenarios. He needed to think positively.

He even resorted to Diocletianseque intimidation to at least get on the right path. turns out he has an extremely violent side that he never knew he had and got what he wanted before dispatching the wounded man to be merciful fighting the urge to draw it out, to savour the power he had over a wounded and defenceless person. The Ubese chose mercy, to make it painless.

What would Revna say if she saw what you were going to do? A voice asks snidely as he turned away.

A mix of shame and thrill made his head spin, he wasn't like his brother, but was also willing to resort to the same behaviour with eerie ease and instinct. Tovald will curb this as much as possible, he helps people, not hurt or kill them. But, here he killed and it was so easy and he did it with calm and cold efficiency. He was cold and he hated it.

With war, there is Chaos and he had to hold onto something as a shipquake ripped across and nearly sent him onto his back, he was alarmed but even more determined to help. Soon word began to trickle through the spiderweb that Anashja Tal is no longer in the Brig. Tovald then instructed them to fan out and locate her as fast as possible before anything else happened.

It wasn't long before the scouting Spiders brought news that a Togrutan matching Ana's Description was found. This means fighting his way down would be a possibility. After reaching the store area he slowly searched each room careful to keep[ his body language as friendly as possible.

<"Hello, Anashja Tal, I am here to help."> He calls out, trying to find exactly where she was. The ship's aftershocks had caused his Spiders to scatter and break the web that connected him to them.
 

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Location: Allied Outpost starport
Objective: Evacuate civilians
Tags:
On surface: Adenn Kyramud Adenn Kyramud Mig Gred Mig Gred // OPEN
In Orbit: Tegan Starfall Tegan Starfall Mig Gred Mig Gred Tovald Kahmen’’a Tovald Kahmen’’a Mykel Fellheart Shani Shani Niki Priddy Niki Priddy


Captain Chizar takes over as temporary ATC for one section of the spaceport to keep evacuation orderly and quick

But no one realized until it was too late exactly where that creeping barrage was headed: right for Canthar Spaceport, heart of the evacuation.

The first shot to find its mark was a MegaCaliber turbolaser blast, which slammed into an air traffic control tower at the edge of the spaceport. The tower was vaporized instantly, destroyed so completely that - if not for the great crater around it and the accompanying cloud of drifting ash - one might believe it had never stood there at all.

The thunderous, seismic impact of the giant turbolaser shook the earth with such force that several outlying supply sheds collapsed. Landing pads crumbled, the ships that sat atop them suddenly toppling over or leaning at precarious angles. The long lines of refugees boarding the ships were thrown from their feet as walkways were shaken apart beneath them, leaving them bruised and stunned.

The Insolence shook from the impact of the bombardment, and the refugees boarding were thrown off their feet. Chizar looked to the source of the tremor and the blast: the air traffic control tower, or rather, its non-existence. A chill went down her spine: she had almost went up there, had it not been for a few distractions.

In the aftermath of the thunderous roar the spaceport broke into panic as refugees broke from their orderly lines, scrambling to get onto ships. Several of the evac ships buttoned up immediately and took off, compounding the capacity problem of some of the ships being knocked off their platforms. The hurried mess of evacuation clogged the skies, and Chizar watched in horror as two shuttles almost collided.

"XO, do you read?"

"Yes ma'am. Our flotilla is fine, only some superficial vibrations."

"Get the refugees on board immediately and take off. The Maw won't give us another chance."

"But-"

"I'm sending over the lift-off codes. Do not delay."

Chizar ended the call and dashed through the crowd, heading towards her platform. She clambered up the stairs, heading towards the platform control room, fumbling for the command codes. She had been given tracking access, and in the aftermath of the bombardment someone needed to take over traffic control. She barged into her platform's control room, and saw some of her officers scrambling to set up temporary ATC, several others dragging over a portable communication amplifier to plug into the station.

"Cap'n, we're staying with you." One of her officers said.

"We know what you're planning. The others can handle the flotilla, but you're gonna need help," another added.

Seeing they had made up their mind, Chizar nodded grimly.

"Then take these codes. Get this station up and running within the minute."

Soon enough, the control room was set up as a temporary ATC, and Chizar began to scan the departure lists and ship movements. A command broadcast was sounding over the frequencies: someone at STRATCOM was ordering emergency deployment of temporary ATCs. Chizar responded with her comms codes and verified.

<"Station 3-0-1 you are now Control 5. Your zone of operations has been demarcated. Good luck.">

Immediately, the other officers in the station began taking up their roles, charting flight paths, giving commands to the confused ships in the section and importantly preventing any more collisions. Chizar looked out of the station at her own flotilla, watching the refugees hurry aboard. They had little time...

TAGS: OPEN. ANY PC SHIPS WANT TO EVAC, FEEL FREE TO @ ME AS ATC

 
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PANATHA | CANTHAR RUINS
ALLIES: GA | Zhea Nox Zhea Nox
ENEMIES: Maw | Nyaeli Nyaeli
ENGAGING: Nyaeli Nyaeli
GEAR: In bio
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Despite her superior skills physically, Ara was struggling hard against the Sith. One buried memory after the other cropped up again, fanning the flames in her heart. The pain and grief she thought was gone merely flooded back in. The memories of what she went through in Underworld, what she had to do to survive, the lives she ruined in her days of thieving, others ruined in her time with the gang, it all came back.

It all finally boiled over into an enraged scream as Ara lashed out with the Force once again, only this time with far more malicious intent. She attempted to wrap the Force around the Sith's throat and pull her in, all to hurl a punch at the snazzy earpiece on the side of her head. Immediately afterward, she attacked again, but this time there was no form. No tactics. Merely wild, powerful bashes to overwhelm her defenses.

"Weak?! You want weak?! You won't survive a day through what I had!" She shouted through her attacks. Another memory resurfaced, and the mental attacks proved too much. Ara recoiled as she clutched her head, her defenses falling entirely for a dangerous few seconds.

More than enough for her opponent.

Her stomach felt numb for a second, and then excruciating pain shot through her body. Ara cried out in pain as she stumbled back, only to trip over a piece of debris and fall down the building they were on. Her back hit the floor and a harsh grunt erupted as every ounce of air was driven from her body. Her lightsaber laid extinguished beside her, though there was no more fighting spirit left.

Ara writhed on the ground, stretching out and curling back in on herself as her hands moved from the cut across her stomach up to her head, only to go back down. She gasped for air as tears of pain and anguish streamed down her cheeks.

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Objective: 1 - Defend the base.
Location: Allied Outpost.
Allies: Open
Enemies: Open

Torrun was just circling back to the outpost, continuing her rounds, when an alarm blared, coming from said outpost. Torrun stilled, for only a moment, before cursing loudly and sprinting toward the outpost, calling her lightsaber to her waiting hand.

"Karking hells! Gone for only a few moments…" The clawdite growled in annoyance. That was not the alarm used for an invading force or normal intruders. No, the Eternal Empire were ones to have a different alarm for just about every damn thing. This one warned of anomalies, the kind that either blow up or tear things apart.

As Torrun neared the outpost, she could already tell which of the two it was by the screaming and gunfire. When she finally got there, the base was already a mess. The men and women stationed here were unprepared for a force suddenly materializing without warning, catching many by surprise. The dead laid about in pieces, but many were still fighting on. Be it for the Eternal Empire, the planet, the base itself, or their own lives…well, that was the soldier's business really.

As Torrun ignited her blade, and charged the abominations, she mused that for her, why she fought at this moment, it was simply expected of her, a part of her job. Sure, many, if not all of the Wardens viewed it as a sacred purpose, a higher meaning to their lives. She was sure they all felt very important. But her? It was buisness. She spied, murdered, and gaurded for the Eternal Empire, and in return, she got to keep her life and make credits while doing so. Even had the opportunity to rise the ranks and maybe even gain a lordship for herself if she really put the work in for it. A much better deal than elsewhere in the galaxy, really.

Torrun then cleared her head of her musings, and lunged at a particularly large creature. It growled, swinging one of its mighty arms and razor-sharp claws at her. Torrun simply ducked the blow, and brought her lightsaber to the beasts forearm, severing it just below the elbow. The creature's shrieks of pain were interrupted by Torrun, as she pierced its throat with the black blade of her lightsaber.

Torrun exhaled deeply. She always hated battle, never a fan of it. The pounding of blood in her ears, the increase of heart rate, the never ending danger and unpredictability, the stench of death. She hated it, preferring to either be in or behind enemy lines, rather than clashing with them. But it was a part of her job, and she was expected to do it, no complaints.

Torrun then activated her comms, radioing into any nearby Wardens or those of higher clearance. "Come in, this is V. Looking for status report and objectives, over."
 
E T E R N A L - E M P R E S S
Moderator
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
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Objective: Try to stop and kill Kyrel.
Location: The Devourer
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 Kyrel Ren | Closed
Allies: Open
Enemies: Open
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[ Incense and Iron ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Ingrid senses Kahlil's death, so she isn't destroys the ship.
  • She starts a hide and seek with Kyrel.
Ingrid #1
Zach #1
Kyrel #1
Ingrid #2
Zach #2
Kyrel #2
Ingrid #3
Zach #3
Kyrel #3
Ingrid #4
Kyrel #4
Ingrid #5
Kyrel #5
Ingrid #6
Kyrel #6
Ingrid #7
Kyrel #7

There would probably have been many in the Galaxy who would have thoroughly enjoyed the situation the Eternal Empress was in. So much power, might that could have completely crushed such a large ship. Except for the person who was in that situation. For Ingrid, this situation caused neither joy nor satisfaction. The woman was twenty-five years old when the Force Sensitivity in her awakened, it was a wake of the event of a Sith Ritual. Truth be told, the redhead never really got used to being a Force User. She liked her old life much better.

The Force, in her eyes, was power that so many people wanted to possess, she never wanted any power. Especially not like this. The lives of tens of thousands, if not more, depended on her, again. If she hadn't suppressed the feeling immediately, she probably would have hated what she had to do. However, her sense of duty was much greater. Ingrid closed her eyes for a few moments, through the shadow tendrils she could see and feel every part of the ship, she knew where her men or the enemy were. MANIAC indicated that a message was being sent to her on the communication channel, but she had no time to deal with it. Not at this moment.

The ship creaked again, but she finally opened her eyes as Kyrel began to speak. The grip didn't ease, but it didn't get any tighter either. She had to think for a moment. She knew she didn't get tired, the other was an interesting question. Probably... definitely, but she didn't care if she died. And she knew how to come back. Although, she was not sure she wanted to come back in that case. So she didn't answer, she just tightened her grip on the ship's frame and spine again.

At the following words, the woman laughed, but now even her laugh was ice-cold, not joyful, happy; it's not even sarcastic.

"I am already part of it, Wrath!" she said, her voice was similar to her laugh, cold, like the coldest night on Kalidan or Terraris.

Kyrel then ran away, and she planned to really crash and smash the ship and kill everyone on it, including herself, saving the planet. But when she wanted to make it happen, she sensed something in the Force. The death of a close friend. Someone with whom she could always talk about her problems, who supported her, who helped her to be a better person. Ironically, the planet below was also his world. Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble was dead. Ingrid's grip on the ship eased, then the shadow tendrils retreated. She no longer held the ship in her grip.

~ Find your peace, my friend! ~ she thought.

However, she had to go after Kyrel because she no longer squeezes the ship. She also headed in the direction Wrath was going. Ingrid jumped down into the crevasse, and with the help of the Force she landed several levels down, quietly, silently, elegantly. She hadn't seen the man yet, so she reached out into the Force to find him. Hide and seek.

"Where are you Kyrel? You cannot hide from me!" she shouted aloud and in the Force.

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Objective: Survive
Location: Somewhere on the Devourer
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim Silhana Cadera Silhana Cadera Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren Vorm Vorm Tovald Kahmen’’a Tovald Kahmen’’a Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr Ivixa Nera'kas Ivixa Nera'kas Garrus Garon Garrus Garon

Equipment: none of this is on her person, it is stowed amongst other stolen belongings.
damaged Beskar'gam, lightsabers, healing supplies, EF-M401e Rampage, Healing Blaster type A

Voidstone shackles


Anashja Tal continued searching for something, anything that might be useful in her flight, a blaster, no power, a knife, broken tank, this was supposed to be where they kept stolen kit right. Finally! Something useful, the bodyglove for her own Beskar'gam.

<"Hello, Anashja Tal, I am here to help.">

"Who is there?" she asked, picking up the tangless knife blade. The stormtroopers knew her name, and weren't above tricking her. She quietly passed through the darkness... interesting? An Ubese? And not in storm armour. She tentatively approached him, "I'm Anashja, who are you? And what in the name of the gods is going on out there" she gestured at the ceiling with the damaged blade as another moan passed through the vessel. Shaking the whole room and causing another crate to fall.

"Ok, we need to get out of here. I've found my body suit, help me get it on please." She slipped her blood stained vest off and tossed it away before grabbing the body glove, "I'm going to need you to zip me up, these troopers damn near broke my back." she winced as she leant down and began to pull the glove up, having to stop half way for a moment to steady herself. A minute or two later she pulled the outfit on and turned her back to allow Tovald Kahmen’’a Tovald Kahmen’’a to zip her up, her dagger was still attached to her leg, at least that was something.

"Help me check if the rest of my kit is here, hmmm that armour and those blades are valuable, I wonder? Did you see an officer's quarter on your way in? They don't let me out much, if my armour is anywhere, it's there." It made sense, jailors regularly had a side hustle of stealing prisoners kit for sale.

 
5th post
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TWILIGHT OF THE GODS
AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY
OBJECTIVE 1


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WILDCAT_ONE
TRIBAL-CHIEFTAIN OF AN-TUATHA
MAJOR-GENERAL OF WILDCAT DIVISION

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BELIGERENTS
(EE/EMPIRE/AC
Vs. BOTM/DH/SH)

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Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim Victor Vel Aath Victor Vel Aath Myri Dara Myri Dara Jas Katis Jas Katis
Kriegan Tavlar Kriegan Tavlar Bex Tarring Bex Tarring Hiran Avola Hiran Avola Tyrell Lockhart Tyrell Lockhart Nukth Kelga'an Nukth Kelga'an
Heinrich Faust Heinrich Faust Elysium Dusk Elysium Dusk Scipio Kaarz Scipio Kaarz Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan

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Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren Kybo Ren Kybo Ren
Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr Erion Justeene Erion Justeene Ronar Ronar Runt Runt
Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze

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TRIBULATIONS OF THE WILDCATS III: A FOREST AFLAME - PART 5
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FOB: Tuatha, Mt. Suntower,
Canthar Province, Panatha (Early-Spring 877 ABY)


I think this is one for the unconventional plan of mine.... Gut feeling.
I need,
"Unconventional". An' now more than ever.

The well-known Anaxsi Captain looked ready, strong and willing to fight and to endeavour the wildest of feats in the attempt to turn the tide on Panatha, and Lord Aron was always on the money with his first impressions; for often such a knack for early assertions had kept him alive and out of harm's way, and had not let him down on any such occasions, leading Gowrie to follow his gut on the Governate officers as he had with so many others before. Even in the riskier, more dangerous of fair assessments over the years, the Kellas' instincts were usually proven true, even if only by drawn out contrasts to the outcomes for which he hoped every time.
'It's an honour to finally meet you too, Major-General. Long I've been for this moment -- probably before the day we defended Nirauan against the Chiss. I've heard a bunch of things about you and your feats of arms.'

It felt nice to work alongside another culture of classy, stylish refinement again, and though the Empire never lacked for style and patrician prestige, there was still much and more that aligned Yinchorr and Galidraan in times like these specifically, especially in matters of courtesy, humour and war alike. Set-pieces were one thing they accorded on, but in the realm of finesse and flare, this was where Gowrie saw the most similarities of all, and it was on this that Gowrie relied the most, especially for what was brewing in the forefront of his mind at the time. The tinfoil theorizing was destined to end eventually, but Lord Aron was dead set in his ways to have all the kookiness made comprehensive once and for all, and even if it meant incurring the most ungodly of risks in the process, the Kellas would have the truth out in his own sneaky way,

'Nice to meet you too, sieurs.'

Letting the other Tuaths bow their heads in kindly greeting for a moment, Lord briefly considered his wording before replying,'Thanks, and I dare say we've been trying to work together since the Maw assaulted Nirauan before that day.... We were on the Diab front if I can recall correctly, though we moved east far enough to see your handiwork on Er'Kit. Since then, we've been fixin' on working with the Governate of Yinchorr again, like an' itch ye canni scratch an' then some.', kindly bowing his head in greeting as the others had before him. It took either a brave, crazy or a stupid sort to array their forces against such destructive conventional-warfighting power, though against the Maw, the Empire were almost always sure they'd be facing their fair share of both in suchlike battles; yet Lord Aron knew better than to get lazy against such a wild fundamental concoction, as brave, crazy and stupid had achieved feats both great and terrible alike in the Goidelic Clan Wars' bloodiest years.

Lessons the Tuaths would never forget. Lessons the Wildcats would take to heart in particular.

'There on the left, wi' the sniper-rifle - Staff-Sergeant Kerr.... An' on the right wi' the LMG there, an' Kerr's commanding-officer no less - Guard-Major Scott.... These two dafties, kiddin' on, but anyways.... Both these fellas here are stickin' with us like glue the-day, but they're more than enough for what I have in mind at the very least. Rest assured o' that, so jus' focus on doin' as they do as soon as we're all set.'
 
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Location: The Devourer, above Panatha
Engaging: Silhana Cadera Silhana Cadera

  • Kralmus is badly wounded in the leg, and falls to the ground
  • He drags himself along the floor into cover, firing with his other hand to try to keep Silhana's head down

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Kralmus zoomed up the corridor, giggling madly, blades outstretched. The pain in his leg focused him, kept him anchored to the present moment so that his aim would be true. With his crimson armor and his horned helm and a trail of jetpack flames behind him, he resembled nothing so much as a demon from one of the mythical Corellian hells, leaping out of the fiery abyss to claim a wicked soul. The scene around him only added to the illusion, the corridor twisted and broken, warning klaxons blaring red. The prison block, like much of the Devourer, had been badly damaged by the Empress's attack. The jagged edges of exposed metal, like a forest of spears, could have passed for hell.

For a moment there was the thrill of moving at high speed, the anticipation of the clash...

... and then Kralmus Orr was right where he wanted to be - back in the thick of a close-quarters fight. Silhana managed to deflect the spearlike bottom of his axe, which sailed past her. The cannibal released it, letting it soar up the corridor and embed itself deep into some distant wall. It would be a pain to reclaim, but he planned to have ended this little game by then. His second attack, that wrist blade that had already tasted the pink-armored Mando's blood, struck home. The blade sank into her belly, wrenching a scream from her throat. Her head sank onto his shoulder as strength fled her, as though the two of them were locked together in a lover's waltz rather than a mortal struggle.

Kralmus couldn't help himself. He added to the illusion, swaying back and forth, humming an off-key melody. "There, there, pinkie," he said between hummed notes, patting her gently on the back with his free hand. "It's almost over." Already he was salivating, anticipating what she would taste like. He hoped he hadn't ruptured her stomach, as that would leak its contents into her belly-meat and spoil the flavor. Oh well. Even if he had, there were plenty of other parts to choose from. Deep fried lekku sounded particularly delicious at the moment; it'd been a while since he'd savored that particular delicacy. Though perhaps he should find out what was happening to the ship first.

But he'd underestimated Silhana, and the fight wasn't over yet. Not quite.

You're coming to hell with me, she hissed in his ear. Kralmus stopped humming. "Now, now," he said, shaking his head and clucking his tongue. "Surely you can see that-" Whatever else he'd been about to say ended in a scream-whine of pain as Silhana shot him point blank, right in the meat of his thigh. He started to stumble back, his blade ripping free of his enemy's body, but his twice-wounded leg buckled beneath him and spilled him onto the ground. The smell of charred meat filled the corridor, emanating from the deep blaster burn, charring him down to the bone. In a delirious moment, the cannibal found the smell of his own roasted flesh... oddly appetizing.

He knew he was in trouble, though. He couldn't fight if he couldn't walk, and could barely stand.

"And here I thought we were having a moment," Kralmus rasped out through clenched teeth, forcing himself to withstand the pain. With one arm he scooted himself backward along the floor of the corridor, gasping with each push as agony flared through his leg. With the other he drew the heavy blaster pistol attached to his opposite thigh and fired wildly up the corridor. He might not even hit Silhana, and certainly wasn't aiming well enough to hit her in a specific, unarmored spot, but he might at least force her to keep her head down while he got into cover. She was clearly a very good shot, and he couldn't risk having her hit him so accurately again. She'd finish him off if she did.
 

The Battalion

Another Brick in Syd's Wall
The squad escorting civilians had already encountered a couple of roving Maw stragglers, and had promptly shot them, but resistance of the sort Tegan Starfall Tegan Starfall was among was getting more stiff, more determined by the moment. The Mercenary B1's had claimed a few grenades from the slain as well as spare rifles, and were busily escorting a small group when they got a ping from one of their scouts surveying the battlefield from the tall ruins of a Panathan Skyscraper. A Mercenary B1 two-individual team wielding a DLT-19 fitted with a scope and a tripod, the spotter wielding a DC-15S.

"Heads up, Charlie, you got a warband, bearing down on you fast from southwest. I'd say you got thirty seconds."

"Great..." Charlie grumbled in his Fett Clone voice. They were out in the open and there was only so much cover. There was a ruined building a few dozen meters west, but the walls looked blasted to chit. It wouldn't hold long. But it was better than nothing.

"Everyone, get to that building, Now!" he yelled as he heard the shouts of the warband and impacts from firing.

He turned and along with two others of his squad mates, began retreating fire on the fast approaching group of enemies, the other refugees firing their own pilfered weapons as the rest rushed to the building. Charlie felt anger as one of his Droid buddies got it in the face and he began dual wielding on the Mawites on bikes, hoping to hit one of them...

Meanwhile...

Max and his Unit were steadily getting ever closer to the CR-90 evac site and Max was getting more and more perturbed. He watched as Canthar spaceport got hit by a probing shot, taking out the air traffic control tower.

"Chit!" Sammy the B1 snapped. "Evac sites about to get popped bad."

"Huh." Max grunted, his Colicoid design frame speckled with dust and blood from Mawites he had slain getting here.. He signalled for them to duck inside a blasted apart bank, ducking inside an open vault made of Impervium. Though immense wealth in the form of Electrum bullion lay inside, glittering, for the taking, the Droids cared not for it.

"What is it, Max?" Phillip the B1 asked.

"Them Mawites are taking an awful lot of time trying to hit the port. You can see it right, they're popping everything else willy nilly. Yet they only went for a few shots at the port so far...why?" he asked, suspicious.

"What do you think?" Sammy wondered.

"Dunno. I got my suspicions. But we got a new problem. I dunno why they aren't hitting the space port as hard as they are hitting everywhere else, but maybe we might be able to buy it some time. We still got a map of this section of Canther, right?"

"Yeah, both before and after." Phillip answered, bringing up a red holodisplay of the city map.

The Droids stared at it. Max pointed to an old structure.

"We have a promising candidate. Apparently there is a disabled underground shield generator not too far off from the Port itself. Leftover from the time the Mandalorians razed this place."

"Disabled? Not destroyed?" Sammy asked.

"An Advanced Model 1 reported it. It had suffered from a series of faulty circuits, and came under concentrated attack earlier before the other factions managed to establish some kind of defense. By all accounts, it suffered only mild damage." Max explained. "I think we could repair it. Reactivate it."

"But we don't know how bad the damage is, and the route is cut off by debris."

"There is still sewer access. Besides, If they really wanted to lay the hurt on the spaceport they would have. They're waiting for something. I'll make the journey myself to the generator. The rest of you will proceed to that port and look for signs of something suspicious."

Meanwhile...

The Assembly rose up, a somewhat mangled figure leaking white blood that burned the debris around her. She now had the Mawites full attention as she unleashed deadly surges of lightning from her fingertips with a howl of murderous glee, feeding off the agony of one mawite as the lightning cooked him and badly injured another, dodging the return blaster fire for the most part only to be hit in the shoulder and drop one of her blades. She hissed in rage, sinking further into the Dark SIde to block out the pain, sprinting towards one and blasting him point blank with lightning, before Force Jumping out of the way of more fire to land next to another, driving her remaining shoto into his skull.

She somersaulted over another storm of blaster fire, landing flesh shuddering as she discharged bursts of purple lightning from all over her body. The EE Military that had previously been under attack began firing at the Mawites with renewed vigor...
 
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6TH POST
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TWILIGHT OF THE GODS
AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY


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THE_BLOODHOUND
TRIBAL-WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS

WARDEN OF RHIGAR & MAR'ZAMBUL
GRANDMASTER OF THE TRI-LUNAR CLIQUE
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BELLIGERENTS
(BOTM/DH/SH
Vs. EE/EMPIRE/AC)

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Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren Tegan Starfall Tegan Starfall Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha Nyaeli Nyaeli Kybo Ren Kybo Ren
Y'sanne Stradd Y'sanne Stradd Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr Erion Justeene Erion Justeene Ronar Ronar Runt Runt
Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze

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Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim Victor Vel Aath Victor Vel Aath Myri Dara Myri Dara Jas Katis Jas Katis
Kriegan Tavlar Kriegan Tavlar Bex Tarring Bex Tarring Hiran Avola Hiran Avola
Amadeus Blackwood Amadeus Blackwood Nukth Kelga'an Nukth Kelga'an Wolfram Triko
Heinrich Faust Heinrich Faust Elysium Dusk Elysium Dusk Ara Sheridan Ara Sheridan Scipio Kaarz Scipio Kaarz


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SHRIVEN NO MORE: FEAR THE SMOKE, FEAR THE SAVAGES - PART 6
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MARKWOOD MARSHES, SPIREWATCH FOREST,
CANTHAR PROVINCE, PANATHA (EARLY-SPRING 877 ABY)


Like wrathful spectres they arrived.
An' like reverent shadows they left again - Marauders once more.

Staring into the skies again, more thunder and lightning would roll overhead as the Bloodhound kept himself trapped in a blissful reverie, enamoured by the reaffirmed faith that found Thomas at the pinnacle of his rage, a faith in Rebirth without even hearing the voice one he had considered beloved before. The faith had become real, taking out the romantic love for ethereal power and put something much purer in it's place, something much more wondrous to the soul's estimation, with his mind resonating in ways a champion's mind ought to resonate in times of war.

Cut out the dreaminess, transplant a sense of majesty in it's place.

~=Rebirth.... Can you hear me?=~
~=If you're listening - I believe it is time to treat you as an Avatar ought to be treated.=~

~=Like a god.... Like the greatest of gods.=~

More multitudes of raindrops fell from the heavens, born of many stormy cloudbursts and thunderous accumulations of static pressure, and the Bloodhound had found himself feeling glad of every last droplet, an uncanny feeling for all his emotional rollercoasters in the years leading up to that day. A feeling that most adherents of the Dark Three would take as trickery on the mind, and the sort they often required to be rejected at once for their own sakes, but for resurrected warriors of Barran's calibre, this was secretly understood to be yet another means of obtaining spiritually-rooted fighting power. A growth in power that could rival that of Jedi and Sith alike, a self-actualisation like no other, and there was nothing that was ever truly impeding Thomas from attaining it, only the one-eyed Woad himself.

'As all things should be....'

But our Matriarch remains out of reach.

All the potential for the Secret War within the Maw was there to see, but instead of wildly declaring to face his rivals head on, Barran wisely chose to prepare instead; the Taskmaster was as much a handy foe in mind-warfare as he was in single-combat, and the denizens who followed him were almost just as dangerous in close-quarters engagements, so the task of waging war on such arcane, deathly wickedness would surely require a new sort of Marauder to match it in kind. The goal, the requirements to reach it and the identity of the one blocking the way were all clearer than any guideline set for the Woad before, and despite how daunting these guidelines appeared at first glance, the sort of focus they were setting into the Bloodhound's mind would offer nothing short of hyperawareness, catalysed into sensation as a direct result of anticipating the dangerous road ahead.

Looking to the future was healthy, but in this instance, doing so was proving to bear fruits of a contrastingly immediate nature as well, something for the one-eyed Woad to consider at length on his way back to Mar'Zambul; but the resonance of another's soul could be sensed again like he had just hours before, and this one was an individual Barran was expecting, an enemy of whom he had been clashing with for some time already.

~=Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum - I smell the stench of Pureblood scum.=~

~=Had a feeling you'd try your luck here, Jas.... You know how to find me.=~
 

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Twilight of the Gods
Path We Tread

THE EMPIRE
THIRD SECTOR DEFENCE FORCES
First Anaxsi Free Brigade -- Second TodHusars Regiment

'Banshee' Company

- IV -
BERZINGUE FROM ANAXES

Eternal Speed -- Part. III


Interacting with: DECEASED Aron Gowrie DECEASED Aron Gowrie Thomas Barran Thomas Barran
— 877, FOB: Tuatha, Mount Suntower, Canthar Province, Panatha


Even after he had greeted the two men alongside Gowrie and the Kellas himself, the Sieur still didn't know what the Major-General wanted to get at by talking to the Captain. Nukth hadn't learned a lot of things about the Galidraani until this very moment, but he at least knew their manner to command the troops, which was way similar to Barran's behaviours in matters of strategy. Combined with Anaxsi knowledge of tactical stuff, this association promised to bear fruit on Panatha. He hoped so, at any rate.

« Thanks, and I dare say we've been trying to work together since the Maw assaulted Nirauan before that day.... We were on the Diab front if I can recall correctly, though we moved east far enough to see your handiwork on Er'Kit. Since then, we've been fixin' on working with the Governate of Yinchorr again, like an' itch ye canni scratch an' then some. »

Gowrie just talked about the first battle upon Nirauan in which Nukth had participated in, before the Chiss-led assault the previous year. This moment triggered the Imperial hate against the Mawites, with the destruction of New Carannia and remained as one of the most important clashes between the Brotherhood and the former New Imperial Order. First, Nukth couldn't recall having been in touch with Aron a decade ago; but, as he was exploring his thoughts and memories, he remembered of Strike Group 'Diab' serving during the battle.

« Yeah, I can recall that, for sure, » he said while gently nodding to the Kellas, « But I didn't notice your name, milord. Maybe I should have. » This last phrase had been said with a thin grin on his face, probably being a way to ironise the state of his memory after several years spent fighting alongside several troopers and officers that he never met again. At last, the men finally teamed up on Panatha, and Gowrie seemed to hope that it wouldn't be the last time they collaborated. Kelga'an waited before being this enthusiastic; not that Gowrie seemed incompetent -- he deserved the rank of Major-General, after all -- but rather than he had a natural doubt about all the people he encountered and what they could do, before putting his life in their hands. Anyway, doubts or not, he let the Kellas go on:

« There on the left, wi' the sniper-rifle - Staff-Sergeant Kerr.... An' on the right wi' the LMG there, an' Kerr's commanding-officer no less - Guard-Major Scott.... These two dafties, kiddin' on, but anyways.... Both these fellas here are stickin' with us like glue the-day, but they're more than enough for what I have in mind at the very least. Rest assured o' that, so jus' focus on doin' as they do as soon as we're all set. »

If the Sieur didn't know Gowrie's manners on a battlefield, what showed through was the respect and goodwill he had for the soldiers under his command. Nukth gave a look at both Kerr and Scott who seemed to be the typical Galidraani style. Aron was a good representation of his people, too, with his behaviours and the slang he used while talking. The Sieur had also been impressed by the Kellas' accent, which was far more pronounced than Erskine's; but as those two representatives of their own cultures were discussing, Nukth tried to get back his old Anaxsi accent that he had forgotten since his exile. Now, he found the heart to use it again...

« Happy to hear this an' happy t'meet 'em, Major-General, y'all seem t'be competent soldiers an' officers, to me. But no more time to lose, I think. We need t'keep goin', don't we? I don't think you three are there to kill time, hein? Lemme know the reason, Lord Aron. »​
 

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