Public Warlord Unbound

[Kaleb Sunwalker]

CAPTURED! Marlon Sularen has been missing in action since the Battle of Coruscant. On his way to trial would the Warlord of the Empire become captured by the "Forgotten Sons." An extremist group originating from Corellia and have kept infamous Warlord behind an undisclosed location... Until now.
The Emperor's spies have searched far and wide to find the lost Warlord until a passing conversation had all but confirmed the suspicions of Sularen's fate. Following the interception of this new data did the search increasingly became relentless with Dark Imperials searching through every mudhole, and rumor to be had regarding the Warlord. After much work did the Imperial Security Bureau using tracking technology using Sularen's datapad and prosthetic arm was able to pinpoint a faint signal emerging from the Corellia system.

With the changing times it has now become imperative to recover the lost Imperial Warlord back home where he belongs. Both the Emperor and the Imperial Ruling Council have decreed that the task be accomplished by only the best the Empire has to offer. The mission to recover Marlon Sularen is made known to every running cog in the Empire with many volunteering to spring one of the Empire's top military assets away from rebel hands. In a matter of days all those that hear of the mission are gathered, summoned with the briefing of the mission and what to expect to be provided on the way towards the Corellian system to bring down the wrath of the Empire in order to bring the Warlord back to his rightful place.

Several shuttles and gunships would launch from the Empire's holdings in the Deep Core to provide the fastest way towards the Warlord using the tracking information provided, along with instructions to bring the Warlord a fresh uniform so that he can get back to work with ease. The convoy of gunships and shuttles would enter deep into hyperspace, a sense of purpose and imperial pride could be felt, for all the volunteers were united in the singular goal of ending Sularen's captivity once and for all.

Some were sitting down, others were looking at the mission specs within the datapad, some just stood there clinging to the rung of the gunship they stood upon. The door would open which would finally end the quiet anticipation that had gripped the hearts and minds of so many Imperials today. Many would look to see an old ISB officer flanked by Stormtroopers as he entered inside. He looked to be in his 50's a thin man with a greying beard. The look on his face reflected that of quiet pensiveness. He would take one glance at the Datapad before looking up to the volunteers. Starting off by clearing his throat. "All the volunteers here?" He asked rhetorically as he scanned the tight confines of the ship. "Good. I am Officer Dace of the ISB we are all brought here today to bring our Warlord home. Our sources have gathered that a group of extremists calling themselves 'Forgotten Sons.' have intercepted our Warlord and stopped his transit for imprisonment and trial by the GA. After much searching we have found him somewhere within the Asteroid belt. We know his is hidden in some complex built into one of the larger asteroids. The plan is to jump in, gain the element of surprise and land. Once inside the volunteers will cover every inch of the complex. Recover our Warlord by any means necessary, wipe out these rebel scum and fulfill our Emperor's will." Dace finally stopped his breathing as he looked around scoping out any questions that arise. As the room remained silent he finally finished. "Good hunting, let's bring our Warlord home. Long live the Empire." He would finish fanatical fervor dripping from his voice.

The gunship would start to shake from the rumbling of hyperspace. The proximity alarm started to blare loudly ending the uneasy silence that gripped the hull of the ship. "Coming into Corellia's Asteroid belt now." The pilot would announce over the comms, as the gunship would rock from the emergence of hyperspace. The rocking would continue to persist through the pelting of asteroid debris against that of the gunship making for one rough entry into the system.


The Dark Empire had come for its Warlord.​

 

[Onrai]

Marlon Sularen @OPEN

The shadowed form of Onrai stood still on the ship’s deck. She was frustrated - only now had her longtime associate in the Maw, the Final Dawn, and the Dark Empire finally been discovered. After the initial leak had come through from the ISB, she had cross-referenced his data load and tracked it through the holonet to the same asteroid he was reputed to be at - thus confirming his presence. As the gunship hurtled at breakneck speed through the debris field, Onrai clenched whatever could necessarily be considered her fists, an arc of energy visibly cracking across her knuckles as she focused her frustration into the single manifestation she possessed presently - still in part a bit unstable courtesy of her prior summoning elsewhere as she spoke to herself.

“We’re going to have a talk when you get back, my dear client.”

 

[Moff Evner Braxiatel]

​

When Moff Evner got the news that the ISB was preparing a mission to rescue the famed and respected Warlord Sularen, he himself sent a cryptographied message to the contacts he had, not offering but demanding that his services were requested. It was not his position as Moff that would keep him from loyally doing the holy duty of liberating the galaxy, in any way necessary. More than anything, Moff Braxiatel was still a soldier at heart.

The Soldier-Moff was sat, with military rigideness, his back fully erect, a hardened but calm face not yet occulted by the black helmet he kept intact for so many years. All his weapons and equipments date back to the New Imperial Order from decades ago. They were still pristine, if not for some scratches and age marks. While the ship is making its way through hyperspace, Evner would still be cleaning his Disruptor Carbine, the pistol on his belt almost shining.

The moment the ship got out of hyperspace, Moff Braxiatel knew exactly what to do: put on his helmet, stand at attention, present arms -it isn't necessary in a situation like this, but old habits die hard- and port arms. Even when the gunship is trembling as much as it is, the exoesqueleton in his armor, added with his own strength will suffice for him not to fall.

"Don't hesitate. Shoot to kill. They're all traitors to our Empire".​

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Marlon Sularen | Moff Evner Braxiatel | Kaleb Sunwalker




​

Marci paced in the small hold, her eyes flicking back and forth to the man behind the humming Magma Cell keeping the Corellian traitor hovering in place. It was old tech, from the early days of the first Galactic Alliance, shipped to Corellia as one of the old Alliance's new high security prison tech. It had never made it to the ground. Now it lay in this small base, on a floating rock out in the Deadrock. She felt disgusting being here, among the dead, but it was one of the only places not even CorSec would go. It was sacred, hallowed ground. Ground that at one point, Sularen had mined when he was still in the good graces of the Confederation. Ironic that one of his many crimes were now being taken on by the radicals he helped create.

Marci flipped her Corellian Bloodsteel knife in her hand and slammed it, vibration motor off, handle deep into a durasteep shed.
"What are we waitin' for? We should just kill him now and be done with it! Ask for forgivness later!"

"You're already in that situation now." Her blood ran cold. Metalic footsteps echoed down the hall, the rasp of assisted lungs following like some dark myth of the Old Empire. Wiry of build and with worn, leathery skin, Cavo, leader of the Forgotten Sons stepped out flanked by two angry looking Selonian guards. Cavo sniffed and walked towards the Magma Cell, looking Marlon up and down as he hovered, one arm bound to his side with crash restraints, his ankles shackled with shock restraints. He had no boots, and the skin was black from char. Cavo quirked a bro.

"Torture?" He looked up at Sularen. "Better than what he deserves, but I'm sure something as minor as this is no problem for one of the Dark Empire's Warlords." Something in the way he said that itched at Marci. Her eyes widened.

"What did you do?"

"Secure the future of the Belt." He rubbed his chin. "I sold him back to the Confederation."
​

It had been decades since Dracken had been a part of a field mission. The shocktrooper armor felt heavier than he remembered. The tac pod rumbled as it launched. His was the main pod, but two others with Corellian Shocktroopers launched to secure the rest of the site. Above loomed a Damoclese-class battlecruiser, Shadow of Corellia, its crew and commander back for redemption. Dracken could tell his men were not comfortable with bringing their Diktat into a hive of terrorists, but what could they do?

"Two clicks out. Deeeefinitely reading lifeforms on that rock."

"Bastards," one of the Halcyon commandos muttered. She stammered an apology but Dracken raised his hand. He would not begrudge her feeling that way. The Deadrock were sacred, an eternal resting place for those lost when Corellia broke and created the asteroid belt. He'd been here on several occasions. The effects of the lost floated aimlessly, as did the frozen corpses of those who had been on Kolene's continent when it shattered. The dead of the days following had also been burried among the Deadrock. Those at least usually had some sort of coffin. CorSec reported that criminal groups, even homegrown ones like the Yokai, often dumped bodies they didn't want to be found nearby, allowing them to float in naturally. Even they didn't step foot in this sacred place.

Yet these terrorists...

"Best put your helmet on sir," the Killer said. He led this fireteam. He'd been a serial murderer before Halcyon. Many of the old ones were such. Dracken thought he heard a smile from beneath the bronze colored visor of his power armor helm. "There's killin' to be done."

And betrayal.

 

[Kazimir Tragovic]

Marlon Sularen , Kaleb Sunwalker , Onrai , Moff Evner Braxiatel , Dracken Pryce

Blood Code

Kaz never liked joint operations. He never was much of a team player. At the same time, it wasn't every day that such a high ranking political figure found themselves captured by the enemy... especially someone with Sularen's extensive skill and knowledge. It was a dangerous thing, allowing one with so much information remain imprisoned, and if there was one thing Kaz understood, it was the importance of information. Granted, gathering intel wasn't exactly his strong suit either. He was more of a wreaking ball, the explosive charge you place on a door just before the breach. Thankfully, there would be plenty of use for his brand of mayhem today, and he intended to deliver in full.

Moff Braxiatel's words were short and too the point. Thank the Force he's not a talker, Kaz would think to himself. Kaz got enough oratory ramblings back at ISB headquarters, and he intended to keep it that way. He had opted to ride along with the Moff and his companions, largely due to their mutual history within the NIO. COMPNOR... those were the days. Yet, just as all other things, those days had come to an end, leaving Kaz finding his own way through the galaxy once again. If it hadn't been for the deceased Despot Korvan, he may have never found that same sort of purpose ever again.

For that reason, he would unleash hell wherever OIT pointed him.

He sat near the Moff, taking a moment to check his gear one final time. He had certainly come with an arsenal, and the last thing he needed was a poorly timed malfunction. Never taking the time to look to the man, Kaz would finally stand, taking his place next to the others, his face obscured by his iconic purple mask. He looked toward the unopened hatch with his cold gaze, blaster rifle in hand as he waited for the inevitable violence that would soon come for them all.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

A_G R E A T F U L_U N I V E R S E

DARK EMPIRE
SOCORRO'S BELT, CORE WORLDS

Suspended in place within a Magma Cell, Sularen watched as the two members of the Forgotten Sons argued. When he was first abducted by them, he was quite surprised to see that they were still active after all these years and that they had even managed to pull such an operation right in the proximity of a Corellian Star Defender. Nevertheless despite their impressive feats, it wasn't long until the true nature of the Forgotten Sons had been revealed to him. They had gone from being revolutionaries to politicians, trying to abandon their past legacy in order to appease the Confederation. Instead of swiftly dealing with Sularen, they had argued on what course of action to take with him and now it appeared that the Forgotten Sons were willing to give up the biggest opportunity that had ever been presented to them in exchange of meager recognition from Corellia.

Thus, the Grand Admiral's reaction to Cavo's decision to sell him back to the Confederation was one of laughter as the captive Warlord proceeded to mock the leader of the Forgotten Sons for his cowardice. "How Pathetic. You were given one of the greatest enemies of your people on a silver-platter, were ready to deliver some form of justice for whatever made-up crimes you think i committed..." Sularen began, speaking in a condescending tone. "...and yet, when faced with difficult choices, you choose the easy road out, a deal with the Confederation which will most likely never materialize. After all, the Alliance and it's constituents don't negotiate with terrorists." the Imperial Warlord said mockingly.

"Honestly, it's a miracle the Diktat hasn't crushed your little orginization at this point. Regardless, once i get out of here, i will make sure to correct the Diktat's little mistake and rid the galaxy of the parasites you are."

Tags | Dracken Pryce | Kaleb Sunwalker | Moff Evner Braxiatel | Onrai | Kazimir Tragovic
​

 

[Sid Berik]

THE ROOKIE

Sid leaned over to the ISB Agent nearest him, holding up the datapad.

"Um, yeah hi... so, I was actually supposed to be transferred to a different unit and then they put on a transport and I really don't know much-"

The ISB Agent raised an eyebrow, and looked at another, then two more ISB personnel came towards Berik. Berik began to explain that he was in fact, yes, a Stormtrooper, and was in fact, Sid Berik, ID and all. But he wasn't supposed to be here, and was actually just misplaced shuttles with the other volunteers. The ISB Agents looked at each other, before handing Sid back his items, and more importantly, the mission pad.

"It seems the Emperor wills you to be here, instead. Get ready, Trooper."

Sid gulped, and started to prepare his gear, and start to peruse what the Empire had brought out- he picked out a newer blaster, first off. His run-of-the-mill Stormtrooper armor looked very... out of place. Especially lacking any NCO markings. Private Berik, it seemed, was going to go on this mission... whether he liked it or not.

For the Empire, he thought to himself, trying to put aside any traitorous or even doubtful thoughts.

 

[Kaleb Sunwalker]

“Enroute to the asteroid complex. Brace yourselves for turbulence.” Would the Pilot say over the comms as the gunships would drop from hyperspace into the middle of Corellia’s asteroid field. Kaleb could feel the roar of the engines. He heard the clanking of smaller asteroids pound against the hull of the gunship, even as he started to rock a little from the jolt of exiting hyperspace. He gripped tightly to the rung above him to keep him grounded as he eagerly awaited getting the Warlord out of his harsh confinement. He listened closely to everything the old ISB agent said regarding the mission details. For an Inquisitor such him, he expected the worst and prepared for any changes to the mission. All he knew that they would be all going in, deep into enemy territory in order to save a much needed Imperial asset.

The gunship would roar as it went deeper into the asteroid belt. The small clanging of asteroids as small as stones would stop. The hum of the thrusters increased as the gunships moved in a singular trajectory. Banking left and right through much larger asteroids that would do damage to the series of gunships sent in towards the Asteroid complex. Kaleb stood still as a statue, anticipation was burning through him, the sooner he would get out of the gunship the better.

The thrusters of the engines accelerating still persisted. The small clanks of asteroids would quickly turn into blasts of turbolaser fire. The closer the gunships would inch to the large asteroid the more resistance the gunships would endure on its path towards the Asteroid. Kaleb would trail his fingers to his saber, as if touching the hilt was oddly therapeutic in the transit towards the base.

All along the way there was a heavy sense of quiet anticipation. Kaleb was surrounded by a group of rookie stormtroopers, ISB agents, Moffs on field assignment, and Inquisitors such as himself and countless others that decided to volunteer for this operation. A strike team such as this was more than enough to tackle on whatever the Forgotten Sons and the Alliance could throw at them. Sularen would be recovered by any means necessary.

“Making our approach!” The pilot would announce over the comms. The loud blare of turbolaser fire would echo, the rumbling in the gunship would increase. Kaleb’s fingers tightened on the rung to keep himself steady. To the side, he could see traces of a gunship on fire. The gunship was speeding far along ahead, as if to shield the other gunships from the incoming fire.

The fiery gunship throttled forward. With a boost of its engines it would crash through a gun emplacement, and right towards the hangar. The hangar was consumed by an inferno caused by the burning remains of the gunship sacrificing itself for the others.

As they would follow behind the sacrificial gunship, the others would start to slowly land in. “It’s go time Imps, let’s go, let’s go!” The pilot announced over the comm’s and Kaleb was met with the doors opening. In little time at all did the Inquisitor move with haste. His crimson blade igniting with a hiss. As soon as he entered out, the once stable hangar was now surrounded with fires caused by the sacrificial gunship going on ahead. What was worse? Already as soon as Kaleb was out saber in hand, he would be met with volleys of blaster fire all looking to pin down the incoming gunships.

They would quickly find that the easy part was getting in, after getting in would be the struggle. They would have to push hard in order to secure the Warlord and Kaleb would do everything he can to push the strike team to victory. “Kark me… These nasty rebs already rolling out the welcome mat.” Kaleb would say gritting his teeth as he batted blaster bolts away from him.


Onrai Moff Evner Braxiatel Kazimir Tragovic Dracken Pryce Marlon Sularen Sid Berik

​

 

[Onrai]

Kaleb Sunwalker Moff Evner Braxiatel Kazimir Tragovic Dracken Pryce Marlon Sularen Sid Berik @OPEN

The moment the hangar was accessible to her, Onrai lept - or rather, ascended - from the open door of the gunship, her amorphous form rushing through the hangar towards the back door. Several pirates stood between her and the first step in her journey, and were soon consumed by her essence, the succor of their swallowed spirits only a further boon to the aberrant Anti-Force abomination. She looked to the left, then to the right, before her essence dissolved into two plumes of smoke that began to rush down the corridor in opposite directions, fragmenting ever further into smaller plumes of dark essence as they did so. She had used this before, this fragment-finding technique, to find an exit in a cave complex while trying to beat the Jedi Grandmaster to the prize within - a prize whose identity still yet eluded her. Soon, she hoped, through all the pipes and pathways, she would have a way to her client - and hopefully a way to get him out.

This was a well overdue trip.

 

[Thomas Barran]

1st Post

-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN TRIBES

Tags
Marlon Sularen Kaleb Sunwalker Onrai Moff Evner Braxiatel
Kazimir Tragovic Sid Berik

Dracken Pryce

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VIII: WHERE CHAINS BIND AGAIN - PART 1

SECURITY PADDOCK, ENTRANCE TO SUPERMAX SECURITY BUILDING 1,
KOLENE, CORELLIAN SYSTEM (902 ABY)

'Blessed Bloodhound, if you have anything to say to Kolene - look into the droid's red light.'
​

Having burst out of Cell-Block 4, and in the most secure building in the facility no less, the gangs that had gathered around their new, cultishly alluring leader had fought and infiltrated through the many layers of localised security-cordons. The Forgotten Sons, cultish aplenty in their own right, had gone against their own hubristic urges to better-contain their catches from the Galaxy around them, representing something of a grand oversight in a realm that was once better-protected within it's expanding borders.

'Who, me? The one-eyed reprobate with the eyepatch? Heh! Well, I guess my presence is a blessing after all.... We're tearing this place asunder, are we not? Cause for praise an' reverence as far as I see it - dunno 'bout the guards though.'

​

Vicious mirth followed the lazy, gloating beginnings of the Bloodhound's speech, all cackling in malicious anticipation of the uprising that followed the Saint's speech, an incitement that would be broadcast to the entire prison and all the Holonet Terminals for multiple parsecs in every known direction. Just the Woad's voice alone would have an effect on the prisoners in the paddocks around them, as it was making all the cell-blocks in the facility stir with noise and clamour already, and this was just with the mere powers of personality and renown, reason enough for the closest co-conspirators to believe the success of their escape could be achieved. Even before the cell doors could be opened, even before their attack on the guards en masse had been staged, and even before the launchpads had been located, the growing belief in Barran's power was there to see in the gaze of every acting accomplice.

A belief that mirrored that of the Mawsworn still waiting on their Great Khan's return.

'Alright, get that droid a little closer.... Come on, Capaq. Quickly now!'

<"Can you hear me, my fellows in villainy? Can you hear your salvation? LET ME HEAR YOUR VOICES, CRY OUT IN UNISON FOR ME - UNLEASH YOUR VOICES ON THE HEAVENS ABOVE!!!! SCREAM FOR YOUR FREEDOM!!!!">
​

The first noises to reach the Bloodhound's ears would be the racket of hands and feet clashing with the Duracrete doors, along with the distinct scraping crashes of bedframes colliding with the Cast-Iron bars of their tiny, air-flowed windows, though the howling, bellowing masses would make their presence felt within moments of the first echoes. Like the hordes of the Netherworld's darkest corners had finally scratched their way through the Rift to Realspace, like denizens of the deepest Hells to the ears of one who once walked those accursed paths in his death-between-lives, Thomas could only imagine the terror-struck shudders of those Forgotten Sons misfortunate enough to accept duties as prison guards that year - a fate of which Barran had wished on the Warden's goons since his arrival.

<"Bless your hearts, bless all who scream from the depths of the soul. Bless all who stand to rise with me on this night of nights, for life would have no meaning for a Saint without that belief. For I know you tasted freedom on the moment of my arrival, envisioning autonomy as soon my feet touched base on this rock the Warden calls home.... But please, do not chide yourselves, for that, right there, is the power Rebirth bestowed unto me! MY PURPOSE - MY REASON TO EXIST!!!!">
​

Nearing it's conclusion, even the co-conspirators were working up a frenzy in the presence of the Bloodhound's speech, content to forego the next step of their prison uprising, even if only for a while. There would be time enough to think about the weapons they were logged into the facility with, and time yet still to overrun the facility completely, though they would be wise to let their motivations, their resolve and task-commitment take precedence, especially in what they considered to be the most daring endeavour of their lives thusfar. However, for the one-eyed Woad who was pausing for effect and full-attentions at the time, and as all the co-conspirators would freely admit, this escape from Kolene was just like any other mildly-eventful weekday.

<"To all who would shake the yoke of servitude on Kolene, I bid you good luck, and offer you a realm where none would accost you for your criminal record.... I BID YOU SHAKE THE CHAINS THAT BIND YOU - I BID YOU PAINT THIS PRISON IN BLOOD!!!!">
​

'Gorm.... Open the cell doors, all of them!'

​

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Onrai | Thomas Barran | Marlon Sularen | Sid Berik | Moff Evner Braxiatel | Kazimir Tragovic | Kaleb Sunwalker




​

Cavo smiled up at Sularen through his bushy mustache.
"You're bold," he said. "Goading me with your freedom so close at hand." Now Marci cocked her head, confused.
"You really think I would sell out my own people?" Cavo asked, "To Pryce and his sycophants?" He burst out laughing. "I did tell them you were here Marci with the traitor yes...But the Corellians aren't the only ones on their way. I figured I would feed to birds with one scone."

Marci nodded, slowly coming to an understanding.

"The Empire?" She said quietly.

"The Empire."

Then the asteroid rocked.
​

They were docked and escorted by some rather rough-looking fellows through the old asteroid base. From the looks of it, it had been some kind of prison before the Breaking, perfect hideout for terrorists. His two Darksaber guards looked warily back and forth, forever scanning the halls. The Halcyon fireteam, by contrast, looked carefree, their weapons stored magnetically against their armor, their com light blinking as they chatted in their personal frequency. He could see it in his HUD, his rank as Supreme Commander giving him access to all com frequencies in the Corellian Defense Force.

His personal light blinked and he blinked to activate it.

"Pryce," he said.

"Sir, you have incoming. Unidentified gunship just dropped right into the asteroid field."

"IN the asteroid field?"

"Radiation tracks with old Maw Path Engines." Of course. That was the only way they would have been able to drop in such a random location this deep in Corellian space. But why was the Empire here? Suddenly, it clicked. They'd been had. The others must have gotten the same message. The Halcyon chatter stopped, and they suddenly reached for their weapons, startling the Forgotten Sons guards. Killer pulled the trigger twice on his plasma shotgun. Both men went down without a sound, their cheap plastoid breastplates turned to slag that dripped into the holes in their chest.

Just then, an explosion rocked the asteroid. Pryce nearly fell to his knees, but his arm was caught by one of his Darksaber minders.

"Thank you," he said, standing up straight. He'd only brought a holdout blaster with him and so he picked up a rifle from the Forgotten Sons guard and an extra energy pack. Chatter from the other teams sent to secure other sectors of the base started coming in. His men were fighting with the terrorists, the explosive landing not endearing the Imperials with the cell. Maybe it hadn't been this particular cell, but the orders of another...Cavo? He cursed.

"He's down the hall. We're the closest to him. Get in and secure the area." The Halcyon charged ahead, forging a path for the Diktat and his personal guard as hell broke loose around them.

 

[Moff Evner Braxiatel]

​

The destroyed gunship did its duty to the Empire. Behind his helmet, Evner's expression was almost one of pride for all those who sacrificed their lives to this important task. "Don't forget to avenge the fallen". Long was the moment of waiting a proper landing. Even before the ship landed, though, the Moff opened the ship's doors on his own, jumping to the air and activating the jump pack mount, his back curved in such way that the impulse would launch the Moff more further than up. His armor's visors located the main threats: 5 terrorists flanking the gunship on a platform above the rest, but still bellow Evner. The middle-aged soldier knew he couldn't shoot them all in such a rapid way, with the precision needed, all on his own. Fortunately, though, the visors tracked them all, and the Armor's AI has calculated the trajectory of each bolt beforehand. Using more of his guts than his brain, Evner shot 7 times: 4 bolts would strike the farthest two terrorists on the chest and the stomach. The 3 other bullets are aimed to the other 3 terrorist's heads. Landing on the platform the flanking terrorists were, he would see the marks the concentrated bolt made on their dead bodies.

Braxiatel would use the platform to shoot the other terrorists bellow him, when he noted the esoteric aberration consuming them all. As much as he hated those wizards, and the magic that came with them, he had to admit they were a very competent weapon when guided by the right ideology. If only they weren't so unstable, this potential might be harnessed by the Empire. For now, the aberration's resolve to save the Warlord will suffice.

Running against the door that would lead the team to the inmates' cells, the Moff would use his armor's internal comlink to radio his squadron. " Kazimir Tragovic , cover me while I open the door. Good work, Wizard [ Onrai ] , whoever you are. Keep it up." . Evner put the Carbine safely on his belt. The door was of rectangular shape, and very wide. He would be shot if he tried to open it, but his armor was there for this exact purpose. With a simple gesture, the vambrace on the Moff's right arm revealed a vibroblade. The Moff would plant it between the door's sealing, to open it enough for a finger or two to slip in. Grabbing the door's openings, Evner used all his armor's potential to forcefully open it up and break its motors. With all his strenght, Evner pulled the door to the side, cracking and deforming it. An entrance was formed.

Just as the Moff's right hand was on its way to grab the carbine, he is met with a shower of bullets from more than a dozen terrorists. He felt no paint, but the impact wouldn't let him advance any further. Making an x with his arms in front of his body, his legs doing all it can to hold his position, the Soldier-Moff patiently waited for his partners to destroy the terrorist menace.

Kaleb Sunwalker || Sid Berik || Thomas Barran || Marlon Sularen || Onrai || Kazimir Tragovic || Dracken Pryce ​

 

[Thomas Barran]

2nd Post

-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN TRIBES

Tags
Marlon Sularen Kaleb Sunwalker Onrai Moff Evner Braxiatel
Kazimir Tragovic Sid Berik

Dracken Pryce

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VIII: WHERE CHAINS BIND AGAIN - PART 2

SECURITY PADDOCK, ENTRANCE TO SUPERMAX SECURITY BUILDING 1,
KOLENE, CORELLIAN SYSTEM (902 ABY)

'Blessed Bloodhound, behold as all the doors are opened.... Behold as we unleash mayhem!'​

Left to it's own protocols after the Great Khan's speech, the recording droid had decided it would be in it's best interests to keep rolling, overriding many of it's self-preservation commands in search of what was calculated to be historic footage in the making. Fortunately for the little recording-droid, not a single convict in the security paddock would mind one bit, understanding the notoriety all the co-conspirators would gain from the broadcasted exposure, smiling almost gleefully as the little drone publicly revealed their faces to the Deep Core - and all the systems surrounding it.

'LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!!!'

Even reacting to the domino-falling succession of duracrete doors scraping and sliding open, preceded and followed by loud siren-buzzers that set the droid into a near-skittish level of processing activity, the droid would then take it upon itself to do more than just scan between the faces of the Woad's escape plan, interesting though that process was expected to be for the masses tuned into their Holonet terminals at the time. More live feeds would be needed after all, and with a perfectly-accessible lens through which the droid could gaze, the only thing it would need to do by then was jack into the security-cam system, snatching up and streaming all the live-feed coverage a viewer could ever possibly want.

A shame though that would be for those weak-stomachs unfortunate enough to be bearing witness at the time.

'All that bedlam, and we've only just started.... If you somehow pull this off, you would no longer be a saint in their eyes.... No, no nonononono! Seriously, on the exact moment we set off into the stars again, you, Blessed Bloodhound - will become a God to these convicts.'

From the conventional rioting footage on cams scanning all the lower-security paddocks, to the high-security paddocks' slaughters for survival between guards and convicts on several differing floors, the security feeds had it all and more; the gloves had been off from the offset, even before the Bloodhound's little entourage overran the prison's most-dangerous building complex, and the viewers would be able to discern this within minutes. Yet with wiser eyes perhaps discerning the finer details, (most of which pertaining to the hidden tones of this so-called prison riot) the discerning few would see from the jump that this was no ordinary prison, with a collective of gaolers who were as far from the realm of the ordinary as the setting they were defending from the inmates.

This wasn't a Supermax-Security breakout, and not at all like the one they had seen unfolding on Coruscant, this was a slave camp for convicts, overseen by a rather-fortunate cult of opportunists. An occurrence that none would have expected to transpire within the Galactic Alliance's borders, and especially not in the latter half of the previous century, an experience to which the one-eyed Woad could personally attest; but times had changed drastically since the Bloodhound's defeat to Ishida Ashina, and with the Deep Core plagued by crime and unrest at unprecedented levels, the citizens of Senate-ruled planets knew that cults, smugglers and prison riots would become more prevalent as time passed.

A simple fact of life for those living under protection of the Galactic Alliance and the New Jedi Order, and for as long as the Dark Empire persisted in supplying their Deep Core Vassal State with weapons, credits and resources, everything around that Vassal State would destabilize over the course of years, perhaps even decades before the problem was expected by the Core-Worlders to perist. This was just the tip of the iceberg to the worrying planetary masses around them, with the Kolene Uprising only just drawing into civilian considerations a little beyond the point of commencement, another, sudden addition to their growing list of reasons to leave; and in the realisation that the robes of the gaolers had denoted cultish affilitation, it wouldn't take long for the Holonet viewers to learn that another cult was, in-fact, enacting a prisoners' revolt against their robed oppressors.

And that one little droid was broadcasting every little battlefront therein to the Holonet viewers of the Deep Core.

'Blessed Bloodhound, we have a mob of Forgotten Sons on the way - they're guards! And quite a karkin' lot of them too!'

Commanding the nearest recording-droids to turn and face the nearest of pathways between building-complexes, the autonomous droid coordinating them was serving an otherwise-normal security-cam function, keeping commands as uniform as possible so the override protocols wouldn't frag it's surveillance around the overrun security paddock. It wasn't long until access began to get a little sketchy for the autonomous droid, however, as zoom-enhancements on the approaching guards and their equipment had triggered certain safeguards, namely those programmed specifically to limit suspicious protocols of any deviating sort. Unfortunately for the approaching guards, however, the one-eyed Woad was paying attention the entire time, and with help from the autonomous droid for the last few difficult moments, all four of the ringleaders could see the weaponry their foes were bringing before the external feeds cut out.

Feeds of which the little droid would obtain again in time, but for the next little while, all the proceeding footage from the fight would be recorded from the Bloodhound's side of the security paddock gate.

'They're fighting for their lives, Zarral. Of course they're looking for the only viable fallback position, or rather, the only viable sort between the gate an' the signal-tower. This is to be expected, even with emergency reinforcements on the way, as none can truly know how long such an action might take to unfold. We know that plenty time could pass between now an' then, an' waiting it out is definitely out o' the question for them now.... They were smart to move away from their command bunker, jus' not smart enough to anticipate what comes next.'

Having planned every stage of the action months in advance, even planning Barran's,"What comes next.", in these meticulous, brainstormed, mapped months of quiet, discrete conspiracy, all eyes in the room would turn to the Bloodhound, all casting the same knowing, anticipatory glances of excitement in the same direction. All four of the ringleaders had agreed that the next phase would mark their true entrance into the hostilities, even with the ultraviolence they had expected to have flared up by the time the next phase was implemented, and in the moment they all saw the scar-faced Mirialan's hand hovering over the relevant switchboard buttons, not even Thomas could keep himself from smiling with joyful giddiness by then.

'Alright then, Gorm! CUT THE LIGHTS - ALL O' THEM!!!! AN' LET WRAITHS BECOME SHADOWS!!!!'

 

[Kuff Tolt]

Tags: Onrai Kaleb Sunwalker Moff Evner Braxiatel Kazimir Tragovic Dracken Pryce Marlon Sularen Sid Berik

---

Kuff heard the warning, and reached out with his left arm to grasp a nearby support beam. His hand clenched with cybernetic strength, and the feat of strength kept the hulking stormtrooper steady as the spacecraft shook with the impacts taken. Sure sounded like it'd be a mess for the repair techs once they returned to base. Must take then hours to undo the mess.

That was the boring stuff. Causing the damage was a much more exciting job.

Asteroids continued to pelt the side of the ship, but eventually the clanging momentarily stopped. Kuff removed his hand from the support beam, taking a couple of careful steps in the silence that followed.

"We good now?" He asked, and received his answer immediately. Blaster shots peppered the hull, causing Kuff to stumble on his feet. He moved towards the wall until he could brace himself against it.

"Guess not." Kuff uttered, answering his own question. As he reached to the support beam again, he gave his gear a last check over. His DLT-19 blaster cannon was loaded, and he had brought plenty of packs to feed the heavy rifle. He had grenades prepared, and he checked his HUD to make sure he had loaded it up with the latest data available for the mission. He was about as ready as he could get, and he was itching to get into action.

They were making there way into the fray rapidly. There was no stopping or evasives taken. It was to be a crash landing.

Guess the repair techs weren't gonna get troubled after all.

He held on with all his strength when the shop jolted to a stop. Kuff bounded for the exit the moment the ship settled down enough for him to move without falling flat on his face.

“It’s go time Imps, let’s go, let’s go!”

"We're going!" With torn siding proving him cover from fire, Kuff shouldered his blaster cannon. Once he pulled the trigger, he did not stop. Rapid heavy blaster fire tore through the hangar in his effort to pin the enemy down until the power pack was defeated.

Upon slamming a new power pack in, Kuff repeated the process.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

A_G R E A T F U L_U N I V E R S E

DARK EMPIRE
SOCORRO'S BELT, CORE WORLDS

Two birds with one scone. Both the Empire and Corellia, here for Sularen. While Sularen was relieved that the Empire had finally come to retrive him, part of him still remained suspicious of the true intentions of Cavo and what his angle was here. Clearly the Grand Admiral was the bait to bring both the Imperials and Corellians here although it was also clear that the Forgotten Sons has some sort of plan here, some sort of goal they sought to accomplish by drawing the Imperials and Corellians into fighting one another. Maybe they sought to take both Sularen and Pryce in one blow, or maybe deal a bigger blow against the Empire while gaining Corellia's favor for the benefit of Kolene.

"The Empire" Sularen muttered. "It's about time they came." the Warlord further remarked. His plans had been long derailed by his imprisonment by the Jedi, the Corellians and the Forgotten Sons and most importantly he had been remined of the price that came with ignoring his rivals and allowing them to thrive and prosper for too long, a lesson he had learned time and time throughout the past especially during the Second Great Hyperspace War. He wouldn't make that mistake again, once the Imperials freed him, or more correctly if they decided to free him instead of giving him the same treatment they gave to Korvan over Tython.

Tags [DE] | Kaleb Sunwalker | Moff Evner Braxiatel | Onrai | Kazimir Tragovic | Sid Berik | Kuff Tolt | Thomas Barran
Tag [Corellia] | Dracken Pryce
​

 

[Ardana Vorco]

Warden, Magnarra and Marauder of the Scar Hounds Tribe

Information

Objective: Find her way to Tommy
Location: Prison Facility, Kolene, Corellian System
Equipment: 2x Geysa Hybrid Pistol | Assault Rifle | Armour and weapon (weapon is lightsaber resistant) || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran [direct tag] || Kaleb Sunwalker | Onrai | Moff Evner Braxiatel | Dracken Pryce | Kazimir Tragovic | Marlon Sularen | Sid Berik | Kuff Tolt | Open

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

It came as a great surprise to Spindly and her team that the Dark Empire decided to attack the place in order to free the Warlord. Ironically, it was a Warlord title that came into play; the woman had joined the Scar Hounds Tribe back when The Mongrel was the leader, and the man, or rather cyborg, was also using the Warlord title to lead the tribe. The woman was not interested in Sularen, she came here for a different reason, for the Khan, Thomas Barran, who had helped her regain her sanity, with whom she had first become a lover, then man and wife, and they had children. So she came to rescue the Khan and her husband. The Twi'lek woman was far more interested in the interests of the Scar Hounds Tribe than in the Dark Empire's.

The Tribe has long been her family, the Dark Empire has not. The fact that they were here now was one of the things that happened when they served the Maw. The Maw was history now, but the Tribe still existed. The woman thought that would be true for the time when the Dark Empire would no longer exist, but the Tribe would remain.

The team arrived a little bit before the Dark Empire teams, they were a kind of strike team at the moment. When the attack started the team let the prison guards and others nearby to focus on the attack. They took advantage of this to get into the building. Taking advantage of the fact that they had taken out one of the teams going out, they were able to get code cylinders and get in. Once inside, they were actually greeted by a sight they hadn't really expected. Inside, they were greeted by a sight akin to a prison riot.

The escaped prisoners fought with the guards inside, so fortunately the woman and the team were able to move around easily. As they made their way through the corridors, she had to kill guards and prisoners alike, as both sides attacked them, thanks to the fact that they were wearing completely different outfits to those who were imprisoned or working here. The biochip in her head was still working so she could use it to find Thomas and know where to go. So the team was definitely heading in the direction Khan had been; though it wasn't too easy for them either.

Eventually, with blood and fighting, they reached the corridor where the Khan was. When Spindly saw her husband, he was standing in the middle of the corridor, covered from head to toe in blood, though his posture gave no indication that he was injured. She'd been on the battlefield long enough to know when someone was in pain. Well, Barran apparently hadn't, so she assumed the blood on him was from someone else. This wasn't a new experience for her, after all, she fell in love with him partly because he was a great fighter.

At the moment she also had a lot of blood on her green skin, mostly spray-like, and a few small cuts, but she ignored them. She just waved her hands to her men to secure the place, and she started off towards Khan with firm steps. As she did so, she removed her helmet and hung it on her belt, grinning at him. When she got there, and if Thomas wasn't fighting, she slid her free hand - the other holding her staff-like weapon - to the back of his head and pulled his head towards her, only to kiss him long and passionately.

When the kiss ended, she pulled away, still smiling, and then, putting her helmet back on, she said.

"In the name of the Dark Three! I missed you sweetie! When are you going to get tired of being captured all the time?" she asked him while laughter was hiding in her voice. "We have to get out of here."

 

[Thomas Barran]

3rd Post

-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN TRIBES

Tags
Marlon Sularen Kaleb Sunwalker Onrai Moff Evner Braxiatel
Kazimir Tragovic Ardana Vorco

Dracken Pryce

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VIII: WHERE CHAINS BIND AGAIN - PART 3

SECURITY PADDOCK, ENTRANCE TO SUPERMAX SECURITY BUILDING 1,
KOLENE, CORELLIAN SYSTEM (902 ABY)

~=Gorm, Capaq, Zarral - listen closely.=~
~=Think not like shadows, but that you ARE shadows.... Believe you're the dark itself.=~

~=Good luck, my dear friends.=~
​

Not that the trio of ringleaders needed their Khan's help in these matters, as even with the backdrop of clamour, distant blaster shots and violence everywhere else, the four co-conspirators together could split off easily under an electronic blackout. Barran knew his own path would be carved somewhat more-easily than his ringleaders, and yet, for the entire time the Bloodhound had known these imprisoned Mercenaries to be something more, from the offset standing with something altogether more powerful than the strength of the average prisoner on Kolene. Even being fortunate enough to feel the full brunt of what was learned before their own capture in 900 ABY, as there were never any rules against physical sparring in the rec-yard of their complex, and what had been learned by the sword before had been learned again by the fist before the Khan's long-awaited arrival.

'DON'T STRAY OFF HERE, THEY'RE PREPARED SO DON'T UNDERESTIMATE THEM, REMEMBER - THIS IS SUPERMAX 1!!!! WE KNEW IT WOULDN'T BE A CAKEWALK!!!!'

Learned from a Tuathan of three names, a man of whom Capaq in particular wished to fight in the future, coincidentally picking up techniques from the son of a man Thomas ended rightly on Nirauan. If anyone could be lethal in the dark, it was certainly the men he found supposedly-languishing in servitude on Kolene, granting a certain comfort of which Barran disbelieved was possible in a place like this; and in that same regard, granting a comfort in the next phase of which the Bloodhound also believed impossible, and yet, there he was - more confident than ever in the abilities of his friends.

'No- NOOOOOOO-'

​

Making matters worse for the guards was the fact Thomas had obtained access to the guard's anti-riot equipment when they overthrew Supermax 1's security paddock, gaining pretty much every logged and categorized flashbang and smoke-grenade for the sector, and every now and again, one of these flashbangs would be sent careening down to the closer, 2-5metre approaches to the loose guard formation. Ruining what little night-sight perception they gained between flashes, ruining all sense of depth and distance, and the while the ringleaders' shivs reached out to embrace their stragglers, their weaker links and their loudmouths; and before they knew it, the crowd would scatter in the hopes they could survive for longer, the worst mistake of all for a gaoler to make in a jailhouse.

Isolation only ever worked to the favour of the archetypal convict, and despite knowing this, (and to each and every last guard fighting for the security paddock at the time) instinct had finally lost it's way to the delusions of panic.

​

'HELP ME, MARK!!!! MARK, PLEEEEAS-'

Worst of all for the gaolers, their leader then, likely the facility's Vice-Warden, was finally left with the last, elite few Forgotten Sons in the area, dropping from a mob that would have overrun any one of the Supermax complexes, dwindling down to little more than thirty good brutes. A little crowd that might as well have been empty armour-suits, seemingly nothing but unhinabited equipment there to defend an equally-useless commander, and when Thomas eventually jumped down from the nearest ledge, each and every brute remaining would know how useless their efforts would be. All instinctively igniting their flares, depth-sticks and throwing them around the immediate vicinity, though the Bloodhound was hoping his would-be-victims had the bravery to bear witness, to watch every grisly, ghastly detail of a wraith's rampage without turning away.

'Fe... Fi... Fo... Fum.... I - smell the blood - of hooded scum! AN' I SMELL FEAR ON ALL O' YOU!!!!'

Throwing his head back as he inhaled a healthy intake of air for the purpose, the Great Khan screamed at the top of his lungs, howling like a feral, war-whooping savage as he beat on his chest with both fists, incessantly aggravating the madness in his soul so that the Omen of Durace could awaken once and for all. It was enough that his foes would react in an array of varying fearful reactions, as some would recoil visibly, others would tighten their grips on their weapons, but the reactions that took the grandest precedence (coincidentally the exact same reactions Barran was seeking in these moments-) were the broken, demoralized shudders of the ones who knew they were doomed already - beset by goosebumps of otherworldly, chilling dismay.

'STAND FIRM, BARRAN ISN'T INVINCI-'

WOOOOOSH​

Too little, too late.

No speech, no sudden surge in power and morale alike, no weapon on the colony could change the gaolers' fates in these moments, as the wraith within had already boiled over it's suppression-point. For the entirety of their fight, the struggle wouldn't be against Thomas as their archives knew him, as by then, and against anything the gaolers could ever muster, their suffering would be inflicted by the hand of the Barran who walked the Netherworld's darkest realms in death. A force of demonic extremes so severe that only the strength, the soul of a true leader could get through to him in his most-erratic of rampages, nearly killing two experienced Marauders before the Scar Hounds' first leader could finally apprehend him properly.

The Mongrel was a force like no other, the true Sword of Chaos for his talismanic effect on Mawsworn morale, though as for all the guards standing to face the tribal-progenitor's successor at the time, no such magnetism and might was there to save them from the impending demise of everyone around them. Little did any of them know, not that criminal case-files ever immersed too far into actions of spiritual extreme, but this part of Thomas was one from whom even Thomas himself freely admitted severe avoidance, a part so extreme that even one so violent as the Bloodhound retained a healthy fear of it's power.

Going so far as to risk life and limb in duels to keep from relying on the Omen within, lest it sap away another small morsel of what little shreds of his former humanity remained, as in the mind of the one-eyed Woad - even the dishonour of bleeding out on Empress Teta was a better alternative to that.

'To kill a serpent....'

CRUNCH​

'One must cut off it's head.'

THUD
​

What was felt rushing past every guard surrounding their commander, was surely behind them, talking in a disturbingly-calm tone by then; but when the guards had turned around, all they could see was the corpse of the man they were all protecting, and a jumpsuit-wearing human, rounding on the brutes with bloody hands and the most wicked, most murderous of smiles. For some, that would be the last thing they would ever see, but for those who were sprayed by the spatters of the Bloodhound's first indiscriminate frenzy, all they would see were dots and spatters of red as their lives were snuffed out among the flares. Agonizing in shrieks and screams whilst blinded to the torments that beset them, and though it would all be over in the span of mere moments, each and every last second would feel like the Great Khan had brought the Nether and all it's denizens to maul them.

Hope had sent these gaolers out to Supermax 1, but it wasn't there to meet them, it was nothing but a promise of fool's gold from the very moment they embarked on this ill-fated assault. All that remained in the end was one man, breathing heavily as the flares steadily burned out around him, and three troubled subordinates watching on with equalling levels of fear and amazement. All three, and even Capaq himself couldn't help but admit they were glad the blood-covered, primal-screaming wraith of the Nether was on their side, and willing to aid in more than just their escape from Kolene.

'Its done, our path to the Warden's Redoubt is open.... Bring me light, bring me my sword, bring - ah, water.'

​

Nervous laughter would follow, but there was more than enough relief detected in the mirth, so Barran left it at that for the sake of,"Matters to Discuss Later", and took a well-deserved moment to catch his breath. Letting the Omen of Durace take over, effective though it certainly was, always left the Bloodhound in a fatigued, sluggish state after the fact; though fortunately for the Khan, time on a work-enslavement mine had made something altogether more durable of the old man since his arrival, physically and conventionally stronger than he was on Coruscant. Thus with cardiovascular health and musculature serving as good safety-nets, along with the fighting techniques learned among the enslaved miners, Thomas would already be well on his way to workable vitality by the time the lights were flipped on again, even standing up straight with arms folded by the time Zarral had tossed him a water-bottle from the command-room refrigerator.

Nothing could be done about the blood by the time his lover arrived, not the ideal condition to be found in for the sake of politeness, but in the moment Ardana finally kissed Thomas for the first time in almost a year, all those concerns vanished as if such things had been sent screaming out an airlock. An intoxicating thing it was, though the love this pair felt for each other was always going to feel like a thrilling, adrenal rush of joy, as whirlwind as such a romance was ever expected to be, thus both would naturally feel like a drug for each other. Caring little as to whether it was healthy or not, both wildcards knew they needed each other, as just functioning in this life was never enough, and as far as Thomas and Ardana viewed life - there was always that something more whenever they were together.

'Indeed we do, but here's the thing.... Every jumpsuit you see, they're all Mawsworn now. So our strategy must change this time, an' this time, I believe we can lead a slave-uprising to victory - to the Ark!'

Smiling again, though it was something altogether more innocent, more childlike in contrast to the sneer of malice seen on his face before, it would be clear to Barran's co-conspirators that his paramour was a positive rock of will and determination for their leader, a good influence on a mind that flourished around her. It was right then, in that very exact moment when the incarcerated mercenaries learned to respect the presence of Ardana Vorco, admiring one who clearly admired their Blessed Bloodhound in turn, as the trio only ever really wanted the committed, dedicated souls there for the Khan through the thick and thin. A physical, chemical, near-spiritual reminder that victory was always possible, an assurance that success was possible with the right plan, the right tools, and most of all - the right effort.

That for which Spindly had always been known, as with that boost in morale was also a chance for hope, that which kept the Bloodhound alive for his lover's sake specifically, a reason above all to make it and survive all the way home. As there was a love waiting for him, watching on proudly every time, always ready to pick the Khan up whenever and wherever he faltered, a true rarity in a Galaxy in dire need of that sort of loyalty.

'To ease your mind further....'

'My friends, what have all the inmates here taken to calling me?'
'Blessed Bloodhound!'
'Blessed Bloodhound!'
'Blessed Bloodhound!'​

'Believe me, all the jumpsuits who remain - are worth fighting for.... With them, we can wipe the slate clean, once an' for all.'

Whenever the Great Khan was in an ambitious state of mind, the Scar Hounds and Mawsworn alike always knew to nurture that thinking, as it was always minds like Barrans that retained the guile and unconventionality needed to turn the tide of battle, as even in the midst of an uprising the Bloodhound was always thinking about the events that would unfold after victory. One who could capitalise on calm and chaos alike, it was this kind of leader their Tribes and Warbands needed most, and though it seemed like the strangest of asks from layman perspectives, all the denizens of the Maw would know this kind of thinking and beseeching as a healthy, welcomed norm.

But in the moment he realised he was leaving one small matter unaddressed, the eyepatch-wearing, blood-covered madman took on a humble, apologetic demeanour, taking Vorco's hands into his own to explain,'An' honestly... I'm genuinely sorry, darling.... Michael won this time, thus I had no choice but to let the Bounty Hunters sell me to the Forgotten Sons here. So - ah - there'll be new scars to find when we get back to the Ark. A small price t'pay, I'm sure.', beaming with an assured, confident affirmation that might have been an attractive trait in the eyes of Spindly in the early days of their relationship. Whatever had transpired since they last spoke, Thomas would exhibit signs of growth not seen for decades before that night, a readiness to accept help from everyone willing to aid the Bloodhound's ascension to prominence once more.

'Again, I'm genuinely sorry it turned out this way, its just that my brother is much stronger than he was twenty years ago, but now.... So am I, an' not a single other soul is gonna put chains on yer man - ever again.'

 

[Ardana Vorco]

Warden, Magnarra and Marauder of the Scar Hounds Tribe

Information

Objective: Find her way to Tommy
Location: Prison Facility, Kolene, Corellian System
Equipment: 2x Geysa Hybrid Pistol | Assault Rifle | Armour and weapon (weapon is lightsaber resistant) || OPBC-01m
Tags: Thomas Barran [direct tag] || Kaleb Sunwalker | Onrai | Moff Evner Braxiatel | Dracken Pryce | Kazimir Tragovic | Marlon Sularen | Sid Berik | Kuff Tolt | Open

"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Over the past year or so, everything in the Scar Hound Tribe has happened the way Barran wanted it to. This meant that Ardana, Y'sanne and Mercy led the Tribe and the Khanate in the absence of the real Khan. Although Mercy was not really physically present, she could always be contacted and Spindly could always rely on the other woman. So there were really only two physically present, the High Priestess and the twi'lek woman. Only to do and execute all the Great Khan's will. As a triumvirate.*

But that didn't matter now, because finally, thanks mainly to Mercy and her men, they had learned that not only Sularen was captive here, but Barran as well, so there was no doubt that the Twi'lek woman would organise a group of volunteers to get in and try to get their ruler out. It was not difficult for her to put this together, in fact the difficulty was more in selecting the most suitable individuals to bring with her from the many who applied. But for a woman as hardened as she, this was no problem.

Finally, after almost a year, they were back and she could feel his closeness and kiss him again. As she put on her helmet, she could see the way the prisoners looked at her, especially as Barran's face had a much gentler smile instead of the frenzied one he had had before. She nodded that the prison riot could be, or rather should be, a success. The people here, if they really thought about joining the tribe, would be a great boost, as the replacements were always great. They didn't have nearly as many replacements as they used to in the days of the Maw.

The woman wanted to respond to Barran's words, but the celebration of the crowd prevented her from doing so, so she had to wait for the crowd to finish cheering and then listen to her husband's words. So Michael was the reason. Although she had never seen the other Barran, she had heard quite a lot about him. She nodded at that, and now she really had a chance to speak, finally.

" Then next time we'll work out a way for you to block the Force and start with roughly equal chances." she told him.

The twi'lek woman knew so much about him because he was a Force user, even if she had never seen him in person or knew much about him. But there was one more thing about the escape that she had to tell her husband.

"The Dark Empire is here, even though they came for Sularen. I found out you were here thanks to Mercy. I don't know if the Empire knows about you or they only cared about Sularen." she told him, contempt in her voice, never a fan of the idea of joining the Dark Empire after they had already been betrayed by the Maw. "With them attacking, we'll probably have a better chance of getting out and escaping."

Meanwhile, Spindly's biochip indicated that there were many people approaching and heavy, metallic footsteps could be heard in the corridors; it was the guards. She turned back to her husband.

"The guard is coming, it's time to leave this place." she told him again


*The information came from Lee, I asked him directly who is leading the Khanate in the absence of the Khan.

 

[Thomas Barran]

4th Post

-THE COREWARD CHRONICLES-

THE_BLOODHOUND
DIVINE CHAMPION OF MOTHER REBIRTH
HEATHEN SAINT OF ROGUES AND OUTLAWS
GREAT KHAN OF THE MAWSWORN TRIBES

Tags
Marlon Sularen Kaleb Sunwalker Onrai Moff Evner Braxiatel Kazimir Tragovic

Dracken Pryce

A NEW CENTURY, A NEW TERROR VIII: WHERE CHAINS BIND AGAIN - PART 4

SECURITY PADDOCK, ENTRANCE TO SUPERMAX SECURITY BUILDING 1,
KOLENE, CORELLIAN SYSTEM (902 ABY)

Though this was not how I was defeated on Coruscant....
Who is to say Michael won't use the Force to defeat me next time?

He wielded the Force against me on Nirauan after all.​

Growing increasingly enamoured by Spindly's resourcefulness, the Bloodhound smiled in silence as the love of his life reported on the situation elsewhere, hanging on every word as Ardana confirmed that it was, in fact, Marlon Sularen being rescued by the impromptu arrival of unidentified ships. Even nodding, and with a wordless agreement Ardana would surely see, fully-comprehending that the arrival of the Imperial war-machine had all the makings of a perfect distraction; and with the Forgotten Sons' forces confirmed to be diverting contingents elsewhere, Thomas knew that the march on the cult's landing-hangars was all but assured of it's success already, and all before the main uprising had even prepared to leave Supermax 1.

'Very true, darling. Though all we need to clear that nuisance away is that one yellow switch on the power-console upstairs.... That one switch that opens the main gate to this paddock, the one thing keeping our brethren from getting their hands on the approaching guards - and all the guards behind them.'

With the gatehouse doors open to the rest of the prison, none would have the strength, the numbers or weapons enough to keep the inmates from exploring farther, all across the rock that once contained them if all the prisoners so willed it. But in keeping with their escape-plan, in their one and only plot that supported the mass-escape of nearly two-thousand Bloodhound Loyalists, Barran knew that their paths would cross with impending reinforcements from the Forgotten Sons eventually. The one phase that seemed like the most-difficult part of the plan's implementation before, but with the arrival of Mawsworn Marauders, (and on the one night they were needed most) along with the unfolding bedlam of the Sularen breakout, the fight for the landing-hangars didn't seem like such a daunting task any more.

'YOU DON'T EVEN NEED TO ASK - CONSIDER IT DONE, BLESSED BLOODHOUND!!!!'

All three Rhigaran moons, War, Death an' Rebirth.... I'll wager they're in full alignment now.
In a Trilunar Eclipse, as stars align here.... On Kolene of all places.

Imperials, Marauders an' Loyalists - all clashing with complacent, apathetic Core-Worlders.
​

'Ardana, you've known the times when moments of faith draw near, right? That feeling, that scent in the air?', Thomas uttered seemingly out of the blue, though as all that everyone eventually understood on matters of Barran's mind, there was always method hiding within all that initially sounded like hair-brained madness. Looking deep into Vorco's eyes, and with a sense of belief not seen in his eyes since the fight for Panatha, the Great Khan's gaze appeared calmer than ever when he concluded,'We're about to experience the first of it's sort in almost thirty years - all three moons are aligning, my love.... Aligning with a reason to live as we did before Nirauan.... Like we did within the walls of Fort Wrath.', and all with little more than a whisper.

'Its time to live again, an' I mean real living - life on the edge, life in it's purest form.... Natural, authentic - an' free!'

BEEEEEP - BEEP
THUD
SSSSSssssssss....

[SECURITY-GATE: UNLOCKED]
​

'Let Chaos reign.... Let Mother Rebirth show us the way.'

​

One last encouragement before the gate's heavy duracrete doors scraped open, and with inmates already frothing at the mouth to reach the guards on the other side, it wouldn't take long for the crescendo of frenzied rampages to rise from the excited, mumbling hubbub from before. Already at the height of the gathering's built-up frenetic pressure, the addition of even more eager rioters would only make it more difficult for the guards by the time the gate began to widen enough for them, and in the slow, ear-aching scrape of Duracrete-on-metallic runner contact, that small gap would widen as the mob brawlers filed through to maul their former gaolers. However, more than enough of the inmates had been fortunate enough to get their hands on firearms along the way, and of the slyer, more-cunning standouts among the Loyalists' shooters, a comforting many had decided to hang back for the better chance of catching the guards with marksmen of their own.

''LOYALISTS, LISTEN UP!!!! FOR ALL YOU'VE DONE TO MAKE IT THIS FAR - I WISH YOU FORTUNE AN' FREEDOM FOR ETERNITY!!!! THE KHANATE WELCOMES YOUR PRESENCE!!!!'

​

Above the scrape of stone-on-metal, above the din and clamour of ultraviolence within and beyond the security gate, above all the echoes yielded from the madmen in the fray, the voice of the Bloodhound rang with proud clarity. Leaving no illusions as to what was said on the precipice of Phase 3, no confusion on what was meant by it, and when the Great Khan bellowed,'ALL BLASTERS - PICK YER TARGETS ON THE GATE, PICK YER SHOTS, BUT MOVE EVERY TIME YE SHOOT!!!! STAND BY!!!!', every barrel in the room would be primed, aimed and readied for every guard they picked along the line of the widening gap.

'ALL UNITS, WEAPONS FREE - FIRE AT WILL!!!!'

 

[Onrai]

Marlon Sularen Dracken Pryce Thomas Barran Kaleb Sunwalker Moff Evner Braxiatel Kazimir Tragovic Kuff Tolt Sid Berik OPEN

The ever-splintered wraith of Onrai continued to filter through the ship, the faintest traces of her essence wisping past those within the halls of the station in question. It was some time - perhaps minutes, perhaps seconds, but a lengthy period - before the shadowed essence managed to make it to the exterior of the Warlord's cell. Shade continued to pour into the room from vents and crevasses, before manifesting in the form of a very cross, very disappointed, very frustrated Onrai.

"You just had to go and disappear on me, didn't you?" She said chastisingly to him, a black arc of malevolent Anti-Force energy shattering the containment field generators. The fragmented facet of Onrai's mind focused, aware of the inevitable boobytrap she was tripping. A hand raised, a Warlord brought over her shoulder and supported with one arm as another moved to force the gravity-weighted blast door up as the sluices began to pour lava in. Onrai hurriedly backed away, the legs of her manifestation forced to wade through traipses of the molten rock before she exited the cell and allowed the blast door to lower with a crash.

"I should smack you." She said, looking at Sully before the communications device appeared at her wrist, her spare arm raised in a communique to the one responsible for leading this raid. "I have him. Wrap up whatever trifling you have left." Closing the comms, she left the room with the magma cell and began to trace her way through the facility, the Warlord of the Empire still slung over her shoulder.

-

The Moff, Evner Braxiatel, would find the hulking mechanical form of an Oppressor-16 Dark Trooper, its shields harmlessly absorbing the blaster fire directed his way. The droid's armor was worn and its original Sith-Imperial paint scheme was mostly flecked away with crude Imperial markings applied to its pauldrons. The droid's rotary blaster spun up as it sprayed the room ahead, emptying hundreds of blaster bolts into the room and everything in it that was unable to retreat in time. The droid looked at the moff as it reloaded its weapon and proceeded to continue advancing, the sound of its weapon resonating through the room ahead.