Junction Uprising of Epoch | Second Great Hyperspace War | Junction of GA - Ianane III and BOTM - Thearterra

[Spirit of Patience]

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THE UPRISING OF EPOCH
A SECOND GREAT HYPERSPACE WAR STORY
FOLLOWING THE EVENTS OF THE ATTACK ON CORUSCANT,
THE ACQUISITION OF THE EPOCHIAN SITH WAYFINDER
AND THE TRANSLATION OF THE EPOCHIAN SITH WAYFINDER

Deep within the core, Solipsis’s homeworld rests.

Epoch is a paradise world, filled with natural beauty. But within its civilization’s history, turmoil and darkness run deep — dating right back to the planet’s very discovery and foundation proposing the planet as a base against the Jedi Order.

History is repeating itself. Between the revelation that Senator Fossk was actually Darth Solipsis and the information gained from the Sith Wayfinder recovered by the SIA, Epoch is once more a place that harbours evil. Caution abound from past deceptions, the Alliance deployed a handful of infiltrators to put ears to the ground amongst the citizens. Soon enough the Alliance learned the Brotherhood of the Maw and assets of the Final Dawn still remain on the planet.

Yet, not all of Epoch follows the pedagogies of darkness. Agents quickly discovered the civil unrest burgeoning within the citizens, and encouraged a rebellious initiative with the help of sympathizers to the Alliance called “The Epochian Rebellion Movement”. Epoch’s rebels include more than just citizens; portions of the navy, army-turned-militia, and some politicians have begun to turn their frustrations to action against the residual presence of Final Dawn and remnant Brotherhood forces. They’re not a group of individuals that can be dissuaded, their patience with the constant Sith propaganda and Brotherhood influence has run out. For them, it’s time to act. Caution to the wind.

Once it becomes clear that the uprising cannot be soothed, and the rebellion of Epoch is inevitable, reinforcements from The Alliances’ Defense Force are deployed to assist with the rooting out of evil forces spread throughout the planet.

The uncovering of Senator Fossk as Darth Solipsis brought with it the startling realization that one of the Alliance’s own worlds was an enemy stronghold used to supply the attack on Coruscant. The Senate has moved quickly to put strict economic sanctions on the planet, banning all trade and commerce and threatening the financial collapse of Epoch.

In the capital, Odessa, the Senate and allied corporatists stage a hostile takeover of Epoch Engineering. Seizure of the assets of this massive corporation is intended to stall, and outright prevent, any further production for the Brotherhood’s war effort. At the palace, the Epochan Assembly is gathered to renegotiate their entry back into the Alliance economy with Alliance senators.

Converging on the planet’s capital, soldiers, Jedi and members of the Senate act to aid the rebellion and root evil out from Epoch once and for all.

Elsewhere, far, far (on the other side of the planet kind of far) from the tumult in the capital’s streets, the SIA in conjunction with Jedi Shadows, handpicked a team to investigate a supposed location, a secret redoubt of the New Sith Order. If the coordinates of this secret post are true, and the whispers of the translation from the Wayfinder are valid and up-to-date, the Alliance and New Jedi Order’s forces could uncover a route from this redoubt to Exegol itself. The small team must navigate the path through the dangerous polar north from the Epochian Wayfinder to the old hidden redoubt once used by NSO before moving to Exegol. Uncover the secrets of the New Sith Order and face the evils within the Temple of the Forsaken

RELEVANT LINKS

1. Epoch
2. Palace District map of Odessa, Epoch

Spoiler: The Map of Odessa

RELEVANT NOTE FOR PARTICIPANTS: We're trying a new style for this junction – prioritizing a story approach over traditionally split-up objectives and locations. Please reach out to your faction staff with any questions, but most of the focus is centred around the capital with the rebellion! Trying to cultivate these vibes.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

War always had it's casualties. Not just of people. Of youth. Innocence. Honor. From the shadows of an alley a black cloaked figure emerged. His burning orange eyes gazed out from under his hood, visible only for a moment before unnatural shadows covered his visage. A planetwide rebellion, pulling the attention of Sith and Jedi alike. Of the Maw and the Alliance.

A faint pulse of blue in his palm caught his attention. Wordlessly Kahlil turned his gaze to the Solari crystal in his grip. The faintest beginnings of Sith runes had been carved onto it's surface, but even now it resisted. His grip tightened. He wasn't here to fight a war. But with war came casualties.

The casualties brought by the Maw would surely break it's will.

Crystal in hand the Sith leapt his way to the roof. He would find the perfect place of suffering to subject his crystal to. Or he'd create it himself. From the vantage point he could see the escalation. Blaster fire here or there as people started to rebel. Shouting in the streets. People rushing by to either escape the coming war or add to it. Then an explosion. He turned his gaze towards where a building had been.

That signified the escalation. What was sparse turned more to full blow combat. Blaster fire was joined by explosives. Screaming. The suffering had begun. Kahlil stepped towards the edge of the roof and fell from it. Near the base, his descent slowed. Leaving him to touch down lightly. Lightning crackled between the fingers of his free hand as he walked forward. Time to join the fray.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Location: Odessa, Epoch Engineering Corporation Facility
Tags: Open

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Tu'teggacha and his slaves start looting Epoch Engineering Corporation
  • They want to take its assets before the Alliance arrives

"Faster, you wretches!" the Taskmaster howled, crackling his shock whip - and making every slave within fifty meters flinch at the sound, a noise they all knew intimately. The Drudges among them, of course, showed no recognition whatsoever. They were simple creatures, the almost mindless spawn of Exegol's sinister Sith laboratories, bred for brute strength and total obedience. After Rhand and Lao-mon, when so many slaves had either been killed or liberated, the creation of these clone laborers had been an absolute necessity; the brutal Mawite war machine, based entirely around forced labor, would have collapsed without them.

Still, Tu'teggacha resented that they were too stupid to torment.

Lashing out at these weaklings helped him manage his stress, if only a little. The Ebruchi had a vital task to perform, and only limited time to do it. He stood in Odessa's vast Epoch Engineering Corporation facility, the central headquarters of the shipbuilding company that was secretly behind most of the Brotherhood's capital ship designs. If the contents of the building - schematics, components, raw materials - fell into the hands of the local rebels and their Galactic Alliance benefactors, that would be a further setback to the war effort... one the Mawites could ill afford after the heavy losses they'd suffered on Jedha and Nirauan.

So the Taskmaster, overseer of logistics for the entire Brotherhood, had come to oversee the transfer personally. Well-paid smugglers were waiting in the wings all across the planet, ready to load up their holds with valuable military cargoes and spirit them away to Mawite space. There was no way that the Brotherhood could hold Epoch now that their shadow government had been revealed, but they certainly could rob the place blind before they left. Let these rebel scum inherit a pillaged world, its industry stolen, its riches spirited away. They should've kept their freedom-obsessed little mouths shut if they'd wanted a planet worth living on.

But it wasn't the rebels that really had Tu'teggacha concerned. He'd received word that the Alliance Senate had authorized a hostile takeover of Epoch Engineering Corp, intending to seize all of its assets - assets they would no doubt turn to their own wartime production. That was why he was here, and not at any number of other rich targets he could be looting. The Alliance were not fools; they understood the importance of EEC to the Maw, and now that they'd passed through the paperwork necessary to dismantle and loot the company, they would make it a priority to do so as soon as possible. That meant that everything had to go. Every last asset.

Let the rebels fight in the streets. Let them throw their rocks and pipe bombs at ranks of Final Dawn stormtroopers and get themselves gunned down en masse, more martyrs for their pointless "liberty". To them, Epoch was the prize of the whole conflict; to Tu'teggacha, the entire planet was nothing more than a singular playing piece on the board of the Second Great Hyperspace War. He would gladly sacrifice this pawn, but not until he had used it to its fullest. So he cracked his whip while slaves and Drudges wheeled filing cabinets and cargo palettes past him, heading in myriad directions as they rushed to the waiting transports. He was nervous...

... but also amused. He drew tremendous pleasure from imagining the look on Aerarii Tithe 's face when the fanatical corporatist learned that his little business takeover had gained him nothing but a bunch of empty buildings. And so long as they hurried, so long as the rebels were kept at bay a little longer, that was exactly what was going to happen. "Sign your little edicts," the Ebruchi cackled, his facial tendrils writhing and dripping slime onto the durasteel floor. "Hold up your little piece of flimsiplast that shows you're now the proud owners of Epoch Engineering Corporation. And enjoy the sad little scraps I've left behind for you."

Standing on a crate so he could watch it all unfold, he felt fear and glee.

 

[Kralmus Orr]

Location: Odessa, Sirius Square
Tags: Open

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Kralmus hangs out in Sirius Square, waiting for the rebels to try to pass

​

Ah, "civilization". How it reeked.

Kralmus Orr spat on the duracrete roadway, trying to clear the wretched taste of exhaust and teeming, unwashed bodies from his mouth. In the wild, every odor told you something: where creatures laired, hunted, and marked their territory, and what kind of creatures they might be; where water could be found, and whether it was a fresh, running stream or a stagnant pool; what kind of terrain and flora might lie ahead. But in a city, all was confusion. The slapdash lives of millions all bled together, the clean lines of natural scent blurred by fast food wrappers and public restrooms and the belching engines of poorly-maintained speeder-buses.

Even on Epoch, where the ruling family's iron-fisted control and the local culture of discipline generally kept things like litter and loitering to a minimum, the cities struck Kralmus as filthy. But such were the ways of prey animals, and that's all these people were: a herd of nerfs, too weak to protect themselves, huddled together in their own waste while their ranchers (the local elites) fattened them up and lived off the proceeds. Not one of them would have lasted an hour out in the wild, that much was immediately clear. Surrounded by myriad conveniences and luxuries, they had never learned the skills necessary to fend for themselves.

Then again, Kralmus reflected, his sharpened teeth showing in his grin, livestock did at least taste good.

It sounded like things were getting rowdy up toward the rebel staging area, so the cannibal Mandalorian decided it was time at last to ready himself for battle. He'd kept his horned helmet under one arm, trying to use all of his senses to get the lay of the land. Now he slid it over his head, letting his armor seal and drive out all external odors. Soon the blood would begin to flow, making pools and then rivers in the streets of Odessa, and he didn't want to get... distracted. Reaching up to his back, he drew forth his two-handed axe, its beskar blade gleaming beneath the streetlights. For now, it would have to taste all this carnage for him.

Kralmus had been lounging against the large plinth that dominated the center of Sirius Square, a stone slab that served as the base of a statue. Apparently the man atop that statue was Sirius Fossk, the first king of Epoch and the progenitor of its ruling line. Kralmus stared up at the tyrant's stone features, the hard lines of his chin and cheekbones, the sneer that the sculptor had so brilliantly captured, and grinned again. Old Sirius would no doubt approve of what was about to happen. He'd come to power by brutally suppressing the Gulag Plague Riots four hundred years earlier, so he was no stranger to massacring local troublemakers.

Kralmus had chosen this spot because Sirius Square was the first major landmark between the rebel staging area and the sections of town they'd most want to seize: the Palace, the Epoch Engineering Corporation offices, and the Epochian Assembly. There were other routes to their objectives, sure, but by planting himself in the middle of the most direct one, he'd pretty much guaranteed that he would see some good action. And that was why he was here, really: for the action. He had never cared about grand strategy or religious fanaticism or trophies to be plundered; he lived for experiences, for the thrill of testing himself in battle.

He had a very literal taste for violence, and he enjoyed expanding his palette.

Running his split tongue along teeth filed down to points, Kralmus hummed an off-key little melody, something oddly childlike - a distorted nursery rhyme. All he had to do was wait, and these rebels - these poor fools who believed that concepts like "liberty" and "justice" had some actual meaning - would come to him. The Mandalorian knew the truth of it all: their ideals were just terms invented by bureaucrats to push their particular systems of control, systems that always benefitted them most of all. These pitiable idiots were soon to fall beneath his axe - and his multitude of other weapons, for variety was the spice of death - for no reason, nerfs led to the slaughter.

It was going to be a wonderful day.

 

[Darth Saevius]

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Location: Hidden Sith Redoubt
Tags: Open

It had been a short time since Saevius had revealed himself to the New Sith Order, and had opted to join their ranks. He had since proven himself a handful of times to different degrees, but such demonstrations had seemingly failed to afford him the true liberty he craved within the Maw. He had his own ends to pursue - for despite joining the New Sith Order, he had never given up his experimentations and pursuits for further knowledge in the darker mysteries of the force. But alas, he had made enough of an impression to be summoned to this secret redoubt upon the world of Epoch, to assist in efforts to eliminate any trace which could lead back to Exegol. The obvious trace was the wayfinder stored in the deepest of sanctums of the bastion. This would be taken last, when the rest of his newfound brethren were ready to put the world behind them in a heap of fire and ruin.

For now, he contented himself to the disposal of what few prisoners remained within the central spire. The idealism, the naivitae to even think one stood a chance of opposing the Maw openly on this world. Even though the forces of 'liberty' and 'freedom' were descending upon them, Saevius would ensure those within his power did not live long enough to see the dawn. He stood within a fighting pit established near the dungeons, his cloak folded neatly off to the side whilst he held his lightsaber to the side - one end of which ignited as he watched a small procession of prisoners escorted by guards into the fighting pit. Eight different individuals were escorted into the pit, in various states of ripeness as it was very clear they had not bathed in days, if not weeks. They were bidden to stop before him, roughly twenty feet away, and forced to their knees by the armed guards who none-too-gently commanded them to do so.

Only then did Saevius approach them, the hum of his lightsaber being the only noise in the echoing chamber, with the exception of the occasional sniffle or haggard breath from the prisoners. He walked the length of the 'line' they formed, resting his eyes on one unassuming, skinny man near the middle. His blade slowly rose to the man's chin, the searing heat causing him to instinctively raise it to meet Saevius' gaze. His eyes met the prisoner's, but otherwise he said or did nothing. Finally, Saevius broke the silence. "Why are you here?" The question rang out clear as crystal, Saevius' yellow-touched eyes meeting this man's simple brown orbs. With a stutter, the man replied:

"I-I'm.... h-h-here bec-c-c-c-cause of my crimes."

"What crimes?" A cold voice retorted quickly, as if impatient for the man to get to the point.

"F-for attacking a supply caravan from the starport!"

The silence returned, with Saevius eventually lowering the blade from the man's chin. "A-are you g-g-g-going to kill us?!" The man's voice half asked, half demanded. It was so... pitiful. Yet, to the surprise of likely many in the room, Saevius' saber blade deactivated as he turned facing the wall, his back to the captives.

"No." The Sith said, his tone remaining icy cold. A slight touch of relief flashed across the man's features, with several sighs escaping the mouths of the other prisoners. Whatever relief they may have felt would be short lived however, as Saevius wheeled about, placing his palm firmly against the scalp of the captive he was speaking with. Without any conscious thought, the man's hands reached up to grab Saevius' hand and pull them away, but it was as if the Sith Lord's hand were magnetically sealed to the scalp of the man. Words of an ancient, unknowable tongue issued from Saevius' mouth, and cries of agony escaped from the man's throat. Soon enough, Saevius' grip loosened from the man, which caused the prisoner to fall backward in a heap. "I'm going to dominate you. All of you."

His eyes glanced over to the rest of the captives. No sooner did he approach the next one in line that the captive who he had just dealt with rose to his feet, his eyes glazed over by a heavy fog. He moved with the air of someone... not fully in control of their senses, like someone under the control of another. Saevius' lips curved in a sinister smile as he approached the next one. The captives cried in fear, and as his palm connected with the second person in line, the others broke from their prone position in a desparate attempt to flee or fight their captors. Those who did would have their lives cut short by the brutes standing over them, their serrated blades singing as they did so with extreme prejudice. Six captives laid dead on the ground, and two stood silently behind the Sith Lord.

​

 

[Marlon Sularen]

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O P E R A T I O N_D A G G E R

FINAL DAWN
EPOCH , DEEP CORE

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Epoch. Byss's Sister World. Once a Paradise World , turned into a Warzone as the People rose up against the Final Dawn. Ever since Solipsis had revealed himself as the Senator of Epoch , Civil Unrest had grown throughout the Deep Core World with the Galactic Alliance applying further pressure on the World to renounce the Final Dawn placing Economic Sanctions on Epoch and bringing it on the verge of financial collapse with SIA Agents coercing the People of Epoch to turn against their Overlords in the Final Dawn. Sularen had been waiting for this day , the day in which the Alliance would set foot on Epoch ready to spread it's filth throughout the World and attempt to put an end to the Final Dawn's Influence over the Planet. Already there were reports of Politicians and Corporatists turning their back on the Final Dawn , siding with the Alliance and this so-called "Epochian Rebellion Movement" with rumors that the Senate and some Allied Corporatists already planned to seize absolute control over the Assets of the Epochian Engineering Corporation , one of the three Major Corporations that supplied the Brotherhood of the Maw with new Military Equipment and supported it's War Effort , the other two being Sularen's SularenCo and Haon Hafey's Have Gun Will Travel.

However since the Great Battle of Coruscant , the Politorate had anticipated a Civilian Uprising on Epoch and thus Grand Overseer Marlon Sularen along with members of the Final Dawn Supreme War Command and Acting Director-Admiral Dorian Sevenar of the Politorate , had devised a special plan to ensure that the Final Dawn could retain it's influence on Epoch even if the Planet fell under Alliance Occupation. In fact this Plan , dubbed Operation Dagger aimed to create the foundation of a Insurrectionary Cell within the Erebus System starting with the Evacuation of Key Final Dawn Collaborators including Military Officials , Oligarchs and Civilian Loyalists and the seizure of Key Infrastructure outside of Epoch such as the many Mining Facilities and Refineries in the Erebus Asteroid Belt with other plans including making use of Shi'ido Fleshtakers to assassinate Politicians and Military Officials sympathetic to the Alliance and to sabotage any efforts to further pursue the Insurrectionary Movements Sularen aimed to prop up. Epoch would fall , but the Final Dawn would not give up on it's plans on expanding it's Influence in the Deep Core.

Thus , Sularen had dispatched Wraith Squadron and Terror Squadron under the Commands of Admiral Kaine Hamilton and Vice-Admiral Stryka Remex respectively , the former being tasked in establishing a blockade to ensure that the Rebels and their GADF Allies would be deprived of any sort of Close-Air Support while Stryka Remex had been tasked in securing the Erebus Ring and seizing control of it's Vital Refineries and Mining Facilities for the Final Dawn with the assistance of Overseer Traaval Pryce to begin the First Step in setting up a Pro-Final Dawn Insurgency against the ERM once Epoch fell. Meanwhile the Grand Overseer had also assigned Alexander Garrick to infiltrate the Epochian Place and Eliminate the Members of the Royal Family at the request of the Dark Voice himself , Darth Solipsis while Dalos Cameron had been tasked in safety retrieving key Final Dawn Collaborators throughout Odessa and bringing them to safety at the Final Dawn Military Garrison HQ where they would be safely transported off-world to begin plotting on their inevitable return to Epoch. At the same time , Elements of the 439th Legion under the Command of General Tylo Bellock which had been deployed prior to the arrival of the GADF , were tasked in holding off the Rebels for as long as possible to ensure the evacuation of the Collaborators with Nacheria Squadron being tasked in providing Tylo Bellock and his Men Close-Air Support.

It was imperative that all Individuals involved completed their tasks successfully as a single mistake could doom the entire Operation ruining any hopes at ever restoring the influence of the Final Dawn on Epoch once the dust settled on the Dark-Side Influenced Paradise World. Inside the Headquarters of the Final Dawn's Military Garrison , Marlon Sularen stood in front of a Live Holo-Map watching carefully as the Uprising unfolded on Epoch. It was a shame that they would lose Epoch to the Alliance soon enough , but this was nothing more but a minor stepback on the Final Dawn's inevitable Conquest of the Core Worlds. The Alliance would win this Battle for sure , but the War was far from over.

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Spoiler: TL;DR

• Phase One of OPERATION DAGGER is initiated :
  • Admiral Kaine Hamilton is to establish a Blockade over Epoch to deny the ERM and Allied GADF Units from any CAS
  • Overseer Traaval Pryce & Vice-Admiral Stryka Remex are to Secure the Refineries and Mining Facilities of the Erebus Ring
  • Commander Alexander Garrick is to lead a Spec Ops Team Comprised of Final Dawn Purge Troopers & Elite Raptor Commandos to Assassinate the Entire Epochian Royal Familly
  • Agent Dalos Cameron is tasked in Retrieving Final Dawn Collaborators throughout Odessa and bringing them to Final Dawn Garrison HQ for Extraction
  • General Tylo Bellock and the 439th Legion are to delay the advance of the ERM and GADF to ensure the Successful Evacuation of Final Dawn Collaborators
  • Nacheria Squadron (Includes Electra-12 & Electra-13 ) are tasked in providing General Bellock and the 439th Legion with Close-Air Support.

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Tag | Stryka Remex | Alexander Garrick | Dalos Cameron | Electra-12 | Electra-13 ​

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[Westenra Mina]

Wearing: Gladiator Armor

Armed with: Five Rings

Copies present: Lynda (See Bio)

Objective: Attack and slaughter Epoch Engineering HVT's, prevent asset removal.

At least one other person beyond Tu'teggacha understood how important the corporations assets were to the Maw.

That was why, rather than assist the rebels in the streets, she had decided to go for the throat. Other copies of Westenra had been dispatched to other areas in different guises, even her own Sister, Vera was getting in on the action in a guise of her own.

But Lynda had singled out the corporation for her wrath.

Her system had barely stabilized after the slaughter at Jedha, when she had killed so many Maw savages she had gained the Moniker (and the infamy that went with it) The Demon of Jedha...

The Demon had seized an Epoch Corporation Cargo vessel. She hadn't informed the GA what she was gonna do. It was a large vessel. Could fit decent amounts of assets aboard it. She and members of House Li-Ves had butchered a number of other smugglers and seized their ships also. The Li-Ves members were all human, fully masked and wearing black colored Clone Commando Armor without identifying insignia to confuse the enemy as to what their allegiances were. Their fingerprints had been burned off, their teeth carefully replaced to avoid identification via dental or fingerprint records. Even their eyes had been replaced. To further confuse the issue as to who they were, Lynda had even hired a few squads of these strange Mandalorians in white Armor as a supplement. They were all highly trained swordsmen and soldiers, a nascent group being fostered by Lynda for her own personal efforts against the Brotherhood. This was sort of their "proving run"--whoever survived would be trained further, barring the Mandalorians, of course. From what she understood of this "Clan Hades" they were already dead, kept alive by aggressive drugs and cybernetics, stored in cryo or stasis pods until they were needed.

She intended to kill and kill and kill...and destroy whatever she could not prevent from being taken. Whether that screwed the people of Epoch over wasn't a concern at this point. The Maw had to be defeated at any cost no matter who was in the way.

Casualties of War as they say. There was no such thing as winning wars cleanly.

They had made certain to approach casually, not looking like they were going for an attack run. They had armed themselves to the teeth, carrying DC-17M rifles, the types used by Clone Commando units, as well as shatter pistols and thermal Detonators.

They approached very carefully, non threatening...

And then they opened up.

Her ships laser cannons and Missiles unloaded on one section of the docking bays, blasting them apart and causing others to collapse. It was ruthless. Multiple slaves died in the initial attack, but it took out at least three transports. She kept firing, hitting another that tried to flee early.

She then personally rammed the docking bays she had damaged, bursting through them. Most of the other ships landed at key areas they had blasted open while two remained in the sky to shoot down fleeing cargo vessels.

Lynda kicked open the hatch of her crashed transport, followed by both a number of her deniable operations soldiers as well as the White Armored Mandalorians, the symbol of a three headed dog on their chest plate.

"Warn us, next time you do something like that!" one of the Mandalorians barked at Lynda.

"Whatever you say..." Lynda trailed as she drew her sword, her acolytes beginning to attack the large facility and anything that looked valuable. It didn't matter if the Alliance got their hands on it, so long as the Maw could not use it.

"MAW SCUM!" Lynda screamed loud enough for her enemies to hear. "THE DEMON OF JEDHA DESIRES YOUR BLOOD!"

She rushed forward, sword slicing into the facilities defenders as her soldiers started shooting at the big clones, crates, and pallets...

 

[Bronwyn Rees]

It was under strange circumstances that Bronwyn was spared the release of death. In another timeline she was still fighting as a soldier of the Galactic Alliance and likely would have been on board one of the vessels that were on their way to support the rebellious element here on Epoch. That was not the case, and now she was here under the authority of the Brotherhood of the Maw as a Sith acolyte prepared to face death once more.

In the depths of her heart she held nothing but contempt for the Alliance. She had enlisted to try and find some kind of home after being orphaned by the Brotherhood itself, and she was tossed aside. When the general retreat was sounded on Coruscant her unit evacuated the area and left her for dead amongst the blood and bodies. It was that struggle to not suffocate under the deluge of the dead that drew the attention of a Sith that had been part of the assault. He had reconstructed her in the image of the Brotherhood; a being of pain and hatred intent to burn the galaxy.

Bronwyn cared not that he was killed shortly after having her taken into custody, nor did she care for his original intent behind her cybernetic reconstruction. She was here to kill anyone that opposed the Brotherhood and would enjoy every single wretched moment of agony she served to the Dark Side. Even as an acolyte with no master, she had power that average soldiers only dreamed of having access to.

In a cruel twist of fate, one of her former squad mates, Sergeant Eskan, from the Alliance had been present among the few rebels she had dispatched. She left him alive where he lay and relished in his defeat. Bronwyn was crouched next to him with her elbows on her knees, looking at him writhe in pain. She had broken both of his legs and now he was cursing this strange woman that had crushed his resistance.

"You don't remember me, do you?" Bronwyn asked him while caressing his face gently.

The Sergeant recoiled from the hand, "Why should I remember someone like you?" he asked in weak defiance.

"Remember when we were fighting together in the undercity of Coruscant. When the Brotherhood of the Maw had launched their attack on the very heart of the Alliance itself? Do you remember what happened that day? she demanded, losing the veneer of calm on the last question. If words could kill then the venom in her tone was akin to that of the Hssiss.

"My unit was ambushed. The captain signaled a retreat and we ran." Eskan said weakly, trying to figure out who the woman looming over him was and how she knew about their defeat in the undercity.

"You ran, I could not." she said with greater spite than ever. Bronwyn grabbed him by the chin and stared directly at him, "Look at me. LOOK AT ME!!!" she screamed. "Look at what you did to me!"

"Corporal...Rees? What did they do to you?" Eskan asked, fearful as he was shocked by her survival.

"For all of the Galactic Alliance's posturing, when your values were tested they were found to be wanting. You allowed me to languish there among the dead and dying. In them the Maw found me, and they gave me a greater purpose." she said, looking out over the narrow alley they were in. As she spoke she did not even look at him at the moment. Bronwyn hated him, hated the Alliance, and hated most of all every member of her former unit that abandoned her in the undercity."

"We had no choice! We were told to retreat! Captain Rhox made it perfectly clear that we had no hope of winning!" he said, this time strong in his conviction. Eskan was defending the actions that left her for dead.

Bronwyn ripped off his holotags. "The Captain? Where is he at now? Did that product of rank nepotism and bribery finally make General? Alliance Command is ripe with people who have no business being in authority, but he was always the worst offender. How many times were we deployed only to be withdrawn?"

Eskan ignored her now. He had said his piece and she was searching for actual information about Alliance command. The Sergeant had no intention to reveal anything to his former squad mate that would compromise the mission on Epoch.

Bronwyn was growing more unstable though, and even with his silent defiance she could sense his terror. "Your wife and son, did you leave them on Coruscant? I remember back when you were on leave after he was born. You were so happy, so proud. You think your suffering is bad now, but you have no idea. Maybe I will go and visit your beautiful home and paint it with their agony." she said, leaving that lingering threat in the air between them.

With his left hand, Eskan reached for and raised up a blaster pistol and shot Bronwyn. The sparks from the impact and the cybernetic armor defending her from grievous damage was a shock initially but she should have been prepared for that. Her hubris allowed her to forget about their sidearms. The air grew heavy around her and she sliced every single limb off of his body.

His screams were hauntingly dissonant, but she relished the moment. "Don't worry, Eskan. I'm not going to kill you. It would be a waste of good suffering. Soon you will know what true loss feels like though. Soon you will be left alone in the galaxy just like me." she said, walking away from the man while calling his sidearm to her left hand with the Force as a small keepsake. Each weapon had been decorated by its owner to personalize things, so she could draw on the tainted memory of pain and terror that now lingered on the weapon. This would be placed within a meditation chamber, so she could draw on these powerful and negative emotions in the future. Bronwyn was not done yet though. If Sergeant Eskan was here, that meant her entire unit was deployed here and now she was on the hunt.

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Objective: Assist rebels/kill Mawites
Location: The streets of Odessa
POV: Arlo Renard, a Chaldean Mystic
Tags: Kahlil Noble (engaging)

Arlo Renard grit his teeth as blaster fire scored the area around his position, blackening the duracrete pavement and superheating the stone pillar he was taking cover behind. Producing a cryo grenade, he tossed it into the fray. The resulting blast forced the troops firing on him to freeze, and allowed Arlo to escape.

Bounding out across the scarred remains of Odessa, his ears were assaulted by the roar of ships flying overhead, the shriek of blasterfire, and the distant whine of falling bombs. After having a falling out with Ishani, frustrated by her prioritizing her duties as a Senator over her training as a Mystic, Arlo had come here alone with the intention of helping the rebels fight the Maw. He hadn’t expected it to be a picnic, but so far he had yet to even reach rebel lines. He was still in enemy territory, outnumbered and outgunned, forced to rely on his skills and wits to survive.

He turned a street corner, only to come face to face with a black-clad man leaping down from a roof. The man landed without injury, and Arlo caught a glimpse of something glowing or crackling in the palm of his hand. An obvious Sith.

Arlo didn’t have the element of surprise; the Sith would be able to sense his presence from a mile away. He would appear to Kahlil Zambrano as a lone figure, primitively armored in scaly green leathers and wielding a spear. The only sign of modern technology on him was the personal energy shield covering his body like a glowing aura.

With the Force, Arlo snuffed out the sparks in Kahlil’s hand.

“You get one chance to surrender. Take it or leave it.”

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Epoch yet another pawn in Solipsis’s grand holochess board. It didn’t come to a surprise that the masses that had unknowingly blinded themselves to a beast of a man, that had revealed his true nature to them. Now they begun to try and rise up? It was all futile in the end they like Kyrel were just tools for creator powers. Ever since knowing the truth back on Exegol he had become increasingly aware of how disposable the Maw was under the yoke of the Sith. What could he do, he was granted Wrath of the Maw and even awarded autonomy of the world as long as he played his part. Now he just stood in the back alley ways stalking beneath all the machinery. He watched as these beings of all kinds worked day and night and yet loved so blissfully unaware of what was happening of what game Solipsis had in store. Now next to the uprising he had heard that Exegol was in danger… The Hidden World of the Sith now under threat from discovery by the Alliance.

It started to make sense on how Solipsis was pulling these shadow moves. Kyrel himself was tasked with causing some significant disturbance to bring the Alliance deeper into the fold. For the past several days he caused mischief of his own, targeting key members of the Final Dawn, those that could have turned on the Maw and spilled key secrets to the Alliance. Disappearances were reported throughout the industrial center, rumors of a shadow started to spread around, key workers started to turn up violently disemboweled and strung up in ominous warnings.

This only started to fuel the paranoia into the uprisings, at night he stalked the backend streets. Waiting for the next prey that came along, one of his pursuits almost led to a full blown fight. Now he stood watching as they started to erupt into chaos. He waited for the Alliance to appear now. When the first troops or even Jedi started to appear would he stop his skulking. He would appear slowly and let them know how terrifying he truly was. Watching from the dark, behind him you could hear a groan as his previous victims started to appear from the dark slowly. They had all been turned into his own monstrous creations. Now all he did was wait until the time was right. All it would take was for the so called good guys to appear for the horror to be unleashed.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Someone approached.

Curiously Kahlil turned his gaze towards Arlo as the man reached out. The Force? The lightning that coursed between his fingers ceased, leaving him to glance towards his palm. Ah, that's what it was then. He slowly closed his hand, frowning. Surrender, or don't? No, the Sith had his own goal here, and it wasn't fighting a war. But the man before him was no Jedi. "A shame I won't give you that chance." The Force was muffled around him. Suppression?

Didn't matter. From within his cloak he pulled free a blaster pistol, quickly firing in the mans direction. He'd been denied a lightsaber until he either stole one from a Jedi's corpse, or corrupted the crystal in his hand. A handicap to most, though Kahlil learned to shoot a gun long before he figured out a lightsaber. He wouldn't break through the shield, but the goal wasn't to kill his foe yet.

Just break his concentration so he could use the Force again.

Ishani Dinn

 

[The Human]

Alias: Dalos Cameron
Location: Church of the Dark Side, Epoch
Armour: Humans Armour and Mask
Equipment: 1x Red Lightsaber, Twin Nadir Repeating Blaster Carbines, Big Disruptor Cannon, 5x Whistling Bird Grenades, 1x Multi-Purpose Cluster Grenade
TAG: Marlon Sularen

The Uprising of Epoch had begun. Violence was all over, in the streets, the buildings and even palaces. The Human was dispatched to find key Final Dawn Collaborators in the city, most notably in areas much harder to get to than others. Being given a name, considering he had not even reached his own, he was now known as Dalos Cameron for this operation. What a strange name to be given was all he could think of as he travelled along the sewers of the city. Carrying weapons more suited for experimentation, it was new weaponry designed by Have Gun Will Travel, along with armour he himself recently made for use against Force Users, more or less by memory of design.

Arriving at the area, he would climb up and push the manhole cover out, his own clothing appearing to be stainless from his journey in the sewers as he climbed out onto the streets. It was rather quiet as he checked over the area, looking upward at the place of interest. The Church of the Dark Side. The front entrance was boarded up as he was rather surprised from this, knowing that allies would soon come to extract them out. Going towards the large door, he held open his hand and Force Pulled, wrenching the entire door frame, the door and even portions of the wall out as it zoomed by him into a large crumbled mess of destruction. Dalos did not like knocking, he preferred to go in loud.

Looking back forward in now the large hole he had created, he walked forward as Blaster Fire erupted from inside the building with screeches of hostile detected. Dalos would take the time to examine the ones firing their blasters as one slammed directly into his chest which did almost no harm whatsoever except a bit of bruising underneath. Unclipping his lightsaber, he ignited it and started to deflect, moving forward very slowly as they started to back up, screaming over the use of grenades. When he finally saw the insignia of the Galactic Alliance on one of them, he pulled out a Whistling Bird Grenade and threw it forward. Before the others could throw one, the sounds of loud whistling could be heard and several popping noises as explosives shook part of the foundation along with wood being splintered and shot all over.

When the chaos had ended, there was nothing but corpses along the ground. Deactivating his lightsaber, he walked over them and carefully made his way towards the back as wood would break under his feet or step on a corpse. There was no need for stealth, he had already eliminated his opposition...anyone else would be fools in their attempt. Going behind the altar, his footsteps would become louder on the durasteel floor and he finally reached the door, opening it up slowly to reveal people being huddled into a corner, numerous amounts as one shook, holding a blaster pistol directly towards the Humans body.

"S-Stay back! I will fire!"
"Relax...I am not here to kill anyone in this room. I am here to retrieve those affiliated with the Final Dawn. Looking for Mera, Kallos, P'ktah and Apthai."
"You cannot have Kallos!"
"They are under my protection, they will not be harmed, that I prom-"

A blaster bolt rang out and smashed directly into the chest of Human, the armor of his absorbing the hits as each one kept pushing him back till the sound of clicking be heard. The Human growled in anger, feeling the bruises underneath the armor as he slowly walked back forward and looked at the other Human that had shot at him. Gripping him in the blasters arm, he wrenched him out of the room and placed him onto the altar rather quickly, activating the lightsaber and putting the blade onto his neck as the mask resonated the use of Force Fear onto his target.

"I am DONE being kind! WHERE ARE THEY!"
"Mera and P'ktah been lynched in the streets nearby! Kallos is in the confession booth, we had to bind him! Apthai, we don't know! I don't know that name!"

Keeping the lightsaber near his neck, he finally deactivated it and clipped it onto his belt, walking straight to the confession booth as a tied up Nautolan shook in his bindings. Untying him and ripping off the duratape, the Nautolan breathed as he spoke out loud to him.

"Mr. Kallos, I am your exfiltrator. Where is Apthai and how did the other two get killed?"
"P'ktah and Mera were killed by hanging, Apthai is hiding near the park east of here. They have Meras young son in the room."
"Point him out."

Weakly, Kallos gave a small point back towards the back of the room the others were in. Walking over towards the room, some started to run out of the hiding hole they were in as a small cry could slowly be heard from inside. Looking down, he noticed a small child, barely older than one year old human child crying out. Leaning down, Dalos slowly picked up the child and looked down upon it, holding the baby in one arm. He felt great things was to come from this child, grabbing the blanket from around the floor and wrapping up the child to secure him.

"Kallos, carry the child. I will defend us to exfiltration, keep the child alive."

Motioning the Nautolan, he started to walk outside as he touched the communicator in his ear, speaking towards command headquarters. This was to decide how things would go

" Marlon Sularen , this is Dalos Cameron. I have retrieved one of the four targets. Two of the targets, Mera and P'ktah of the Ytath Royal Family is KIA, last surviving member of the family is in possession of Kallos for transport. Last target is reported east of my location, ran off during the lynching. I have encountered also heavy resistance in my area and Church of the Dark Side is no longer a safe zone. Shall I pursue target to the east or take back the current survivors, over?"

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Objective: Assist rebels/kill Mawites
Location: The streets of Odessa
POV: Arlo Renard, a Chaldean Mystic
Tags: Kahlil Noble (engaging)

As Khalil started blasting, Arlo ran for cover behind a pile of rubble. A few shots hit his shield, making it sputter, but he kept his concentration doggedly fixed on the Sith.

Once there was a break in the firing, he lobbed yet another cryo grenade at Kahlil. The Sith would probably get out of the way in time, but Arlo had other plans in store. Plans that would depend on what his opponent did next...

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

SEIZE THE MEANS OF PRODUCTION
EPOCH ENGINEERING CORPORATION // EPOCH

Tu'teggacha | Westenra Mina

The heavy industrial doors of the Epoch Engineering Corporation were thrown open. Dozens of Galactic Alliance personnel swamped into the lobby, ordering the guards, concierge and reception staff to stop what they were doing and surrender. Freshly signed flimsiplast seizure documents bearing the signatures of Alliance officials were produced to demonstrate the legality of their actions. With the lobby secure, the swarm of personnel began to spread out through the sprawling industrial complex.

But these were not soldiers from the GADF, operatives from the SIA, or even Jedi from the NJO. No, this was an organisation who drove even greater fear into the hearts of the enemies, a group whose name was whispered in the halls a power, an agency whose existence many tried to deny, reassuming themselves that the Alliance had not yet sunk so low.

They were the most powerful force within the Galactic Alliance.

The bureaucrats.

Specifically, the Galactic Alliance Monetary Authority - GAMA, or ‘Gamma’ - which held responsibility for the fiscal and economic update of the Alliance. Armed inspectors arrested Epoch Engineering personnel and placed them in stun cuffs ready to be interrogated. Auditors poured in office spaces and began forensic examinations of records and documents. Technicians and their droids sliced into the mainframe to copy files before they were deleted.

Many a corporatist laid awake at night, terrified of a knock at the door signalling a surprise GAMA raid.

Ironically, the person on Coruscant who had the most to fear from an investigation was leading to raid. Chancellor Tithe strode straight toward the turbolifts, accompanied by a surprising mix of GAMA officials, lawyers, Senators and corporatists. The turbolift quickly ascended toward the executive level, where Tithe planned to personally confront whatever puppet the Brotherhood of the Maw had installed to run this charade. He could not allow the enemy to manufacture weapons of war that were used to hurt his people within the Alliance borders.

But more so than that, he’d seen the profit sheets for EEC. They would make a fine addition to his collection.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

He couldn't shoot forever. Kahlil clicked his tongue as Arlo ran for cover. And kept his concentration. That numb feeling of not having the Force was.. Unsettling. Then a flash as something was thrown. The Sith's eyes widened as he recognized it as a grenade and hastily ran for his own cover. He barely dove around the corner himself as it went off. Frost ripped over the ground. Cryo?

"So, this is the plan? Lob some grenades and cut em' off from the Force? Pretty good, I think!" Yeah, he was trying to buy time. This numb feeling.. It was permanent, right? Or was it a clash of wills? He turned his gaze towards the crystal in his hand. The runes still glowed on it, deep red. Pulsing with the dark. He could feel them at least. Did that mean.. He focused, using the moment to try and will his power into existence again. Just for a moment, a couple sparks.

He'd figure this out soon enough.

Ishani Dinn

 

[Phaineve Halseigh]

{Location: "Temptress" - Tsrotzhu-class Multipurpose Gunship - Cockpit}
{War Hogs Inbound}
{Objective: Land and try not to die}
[APPROACHING EPOCH]

"Alright. Heading down..." Phaineve paused slightly, caught in hesitation as a deactivated missile glided half-heartedly beside the Temptress's port flank- then took a sharp, lifeless dive toward the distant ground below. "Estimating fifteen minutes till we land, but I need you all by the loading ramp in thirteen." The captain's voice crackled over the speakers in the gunship's modest conference room.

A rather uneasy tone infested her speech. For they'd been down this road before, held at the mercy of the Brotherhood of the Maw. Coruscant, Csilla, and now on Epoch. Here, the Maw's infection had been permitted to infest the soils of what once was a paradise. Now, there was only blood; vegetation overwhelmed by these sickening weeds. For the Alliance, and those brave rebels who fought on the planet's surface, their job would be to rid Epoch of the disease, and tear every last weed from the ground. What cost would be demanded to achieve this feat? Phaineve didn't know. She didn't want to know...

If people died, they died. Phaineve could mourn later, as she had when the Battle of Coruscant left the War Hogs but a portion of what their numbers once were. Come on, Focus. That was precisely the reason she'd resolved to save her tears for after the battle's end; stopping to think now would only be a detriment.

Inbound-Contact alerts began emerging all over the console's display.

Sithspit- Adrenaline flooded her mind. "Brace Yourselves!" the captain's voice suddenly erupted over the comms. The Temptress broke into a violent roll, missile ports flung open as she sprayed metallic death in the faces of a pursuing interceptor squadron. Blast... A quick glance at the Plan Position Indicators confirmed Phaineve's unsettling anticipation: Battle had erupted in orbit of Epoch, and these interceptors were only a fraction of the chaos.

Ten minutes. She'd begun to wonder if the War Hogs would even make it to the surface-- intact, that was. Alive, more importantly. Morbidly, Phaineve had begun to plan out their her crash landing.

Five minutes. It seemed that most of the Brotherhood's interceptors had broken from the Temptress's durable targeting profile, rather turning their attention toward the greater concentrations of Alliance marines; each confined within a small dropship's passenger hold. But that wasn't to say that they'd meet no resistance. Four minutes before landing, the War Hogs encountered a screen of Mawite fire. The Temptress's shields buckled with ripples of flak storms, arrays of rapidly discharged gunnery emplacements from the planet below.

Gahhh.. Phaineve's fingers tensed around the gunship's controls, eyes alight with an unending rush of adrenaline pounding into her skull. The Temptress released a small spray of it's own laser turrets, swerving and falling into a dive past a wave of suppressive fire.

"Alright! Get to the cargo bay!" she shouted over the intercoms again. "I'm going to find us a safe place to land," Phaineve continued, simultaneously summoning a new map to the display of her tactical visor.

Spoiler: Tac Map

Course readjusted, they began taxiing toward a patch of charred ground, not far from the GADF's planetside staging zone and tucked quite nearly safely behind a set of abandoned apartment complexes. "Gear extended..." this time, Phaineve only muttered to herself as a complement of landing pylons extended from the gunship's blunt undercarriage. Not long after, the ramp dropped; a crude plate of durasteel welded to the craft's belly to facilitate the drop of the War Hogs' most cherished weapon.

Lodged within the overhauled loading bay of the Temptress, a Dragonhawk Main Battle Tank awaited its exit from the gunship's berths, a wake of destruction soon prophesized to follow its course.

"Stand by to deploy Mr. Cuddles."

War Hog Personnel: Traden Avarice , Dagmar Kortu , Gorthalon , Mela ​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Objective: Assist rebels/kill Mawites
Location: The streets of Odessa
POV: Arlo Renard, a Chaldean Mystic
Tags: Kahlil Noble (engaging)

“It was either grenades, or I shoot you repeatedly,” Arlo called back. “The grenade seemed the deadlier bet.”

Yet Kahlil had survived it. What’s more, Arlo could feel him fighting the suppression, kicking against the pricks of numbness. The Mystic was running out of time.

Contrary to what the Sith feared, Suppression was only temporary and its effects were dependent on Arlo’s ability to focus. It was a lot easier to maintain than the more permanent solution, which while a one-and-done deal, was a pain in the ass to pull off.

Arlo had been hoping the Sith would do something reckless, but instead he just dove into cover. Unholstering his grappler, he shot it at a nearby building and shot upwards. Kahlil, unable to feel the Force and not really looking around to begin with, probably wouldn’t notice as Arlo landed on a ledge almost directly above him.

Probably. Some visible dust was shaken down by the impact of his weight, and y'know. It made a dull thump noise from above.

Arlo didn’t stay up there more than a second or so anyway. He leaped down on top of Kahlil, spear point thrusting at the Sith’s neck.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"The grenade is definitely the deadlier bet." Thinking about it, this tactic probably would of killed any other Sith. Surprise at being cut off, followed by something like a grenade while they were still reeling from the numbness. It was a tactic Kahlil would have to keep in mind if he ever learned how to suppress the Force in others like this. No response. Was the other trying to sneak around?

Dust.

The Sith's eyes widened before he threw himself forward. Just in time to avoid death, though not in time to avoid damage. The spear ripped through his calve, severing skin and muscle. Pain lurched through his mind. Though, perhaps that was it's own boon. With that new source of power he turned and brought his hand forward midroll. Through the crystal in his grip he unleashed a torrent of lightning. Far from what he normally could manage, but the haze blurring his connection was slowly breaking. Enough that he could at least defend himself now.

Ishani Dinn

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Objective: Assist rebels/kill Mawites
Location: The streets of Odessa
POV: Arlo Renard, a Chaldean Mystic
Tags: Kahlil Noble (engaging)

His spear didn’t do as much damage as he’d hoped, but it did do some. Unfortunately, Arlo lost his grip on the Sith’s connection to the Force, his concentration slipping as he focused on his attack.

Lightning crackled over his shield. Unsuited to electric attacks, the system rapidly overloaded and the projector attached to his hip started to smoke. That glowing aura surrounding Arlo’s body flickered and died in a matter of seconds.

It was quickly replaced by a more metaphysical shield Arlo conjured up with the Force. Pressing down on Kahlil, he swung the blunt end of his spear at the Sith’s face like a bat, hoping to crack his skull or, at the very least, break his nose.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

A breath. That's all he could do between his release and Arlo's counter strike. But a breath was all he needed. The pressure, the numbness that had been limiting him, it was gone. Kahlil's head pulled away from the incoming strike, but it'd never reach him anyway. His other hand raised and the Force bent to his unbound will. A much more solid field of energy rippled between his fingers and the spear, catching the strike momentarily to halt it's momentum.

To let him escape backwards. He looked more like a puppet being dragged by it's strings as he quickly floated back. His leg was shot, he could feel that much. If he tried to stand on it, surely he'd just collapse. A hinderance. Lightning danced between his fingers, scorching the crystal he still carried in his palm, before it was unleashed. All of his power, uninhibited by the suppression of the man before him.

Or, at least, that's what it looked like at first. Using the lighting as a cover he recalled his blaster to his right hand and fired twice. Whatever this man's power came from, it seemed to be centered around resisting and controlling the Force.

Ishani Dinn