Dominion Where Eagles Dare | Dominion of Oben | NIO

[The Faceless]

E M P I R E _ R I S I N G
New Imperial Order​

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O B E N
W H E R E _ E A G L E S _ D A R E

Our reach on these isolated systems continues on. Kynachi, Guiteica, and Helska have come to expand the rays of the Iron Sun. Now Oben will follow suit.

The last time Imperial presence dominated Oben was during the height of the Galactic Empire. That was more than 860 years ago and no other superpower has bothered to see what has become of the place.

Now? It is a last resort of radical Kaleesh warriors that interfered with our operations on Guiteica, and a resurgence of Yam’rii that once were driven out by their arch rivals of Kalee.

Oben may not have much, but never judge a book by its cover. After all, it has a reason that’s gained our attention other than the radical Kaleesh warriors we encountered on Guiteica.

OBJECTIVE I //: UNFINISHED BUSINESS

As it turns out, the Kaleesh involved on Guiteica are a group of radical warriors that have separated themselves from a compliant Kalee that have aligned themselves with the New Imperial Order.

Their main drive was to instigate another war against the natives of Guiteica, even going through irrational measures of attacking Imperial assets.

This will not be tolerated.

We will show our own fury against these savages. No quarter. They deserve none of it; let the war machine of the Iron Sun eclipse these barbaric warriors.

OBJECTIVE II //: BURIED SECRETS

Not only are there elements of radical Kaleesh warriors we must punish, but there has been a hive of Yam’rii that’s taken base in ancient burial ground the Kaleesh built many, many generations ago.

We do not know what their intentions are, but we have sent a task force to investigate their activities.

Meanwhile, we have our own delegation to meet with their leaders to serve as a distraction for our investigations.

OBJECTIVE //: BYOO

Whatever gets you to write, chief.

// SETPIECES //:
OBEN

 

[Enlil]

B A I T // S W I T C H
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OBEN

​

The Imperial shuttles began to swarm like insects overhead.

Proxies and leaders alike were brought together in anticipation of their arrival, the Moffs who would broker peace with them and install order. That was the alleged purpose of this meeting. However, the Imperium had little faith in local jurisdictions. They had watched numerous blunders and taken failure in stride for far too long. In the absence of proper rule, they had turned to false hope and rule by the mob to give them a semblance of unity. It was painfully obvious that they had no idea which foot to put forward first.

There may have been promising leaders among them, but they had failed to produce results. The fact remained that those handpicked to lead would be the ones to do so. Those who were elected by the people? They had already failed those they were supposed to represent. They believed that they wanted freedom; but deep down, what they truly craved was order. It was a rule of law that would give them fulfillment in life. A purpose to drive them forward in the darkest night; an iron sun to illuminate the way through.

Irveric Tavlar had not spoken a word to the Council since Dantooine. His failure to reclaim his homeworld left the man not only humbled, but with many complicated feelings to sort through. He trusted his council to lead in his stead. So, here they were.

As his shuttle touched down, the King rose from his seat. Already COMPNOR elements and other Imperial elements were disembarking their dropships and flooding into the turbulent warzones across Oben. They promised peace, and they would deliver. Not like the Sith, who promised order and brought only an ironclad rule that sucked its people dry. Imperialism was built on principle, not power. Duty, not desire. The only faith that a man of the Imperium needed was in the work that he did. The Force was antiquated, and while powerful, was no replacement for a skilled and seasoned leader.

Enlil hoped that he could measure up to that task. He was poised to meet with them alongside several other members of the Moff Council. It was a feint, but they would have to do everything in their power to sell it.

"My lord," and advisor stepped forward. "They have sent an envoy."

He made his way down the ramp and held his head high. When he saw the woman, head bowed in deference, he held out a hand. "Well met," he greeted her. "I am Enlil, the King of Ketaris."

"If it pleases my lord, I am called Vyra," she introduced herself. Her eyes rose to meet his and quickly darted away. He could sense obvious fear at the forefront of her thoughts. "I am to lead you to the heads of our great nation," she told him. Intelligence suggested a global government with leaders elected by the people from across their many continents; and if all or most of them were present, things ought to move forward swimmingly.

"I thank you, Vyra," he said. "You need have no fear of us," he told her. "We are here to help sort out the problems that plague your people once and for all."

"I pray that you are able to do so," she whispered meekly.

He watched her turn away, her face downcast. It was obvious immediately that the people here had a great deal of fear and discontent associated with their everyday lives. The King was disgusted; but he did not allow it to show on his face.

​

 

[Adenn Munin]

​

His spear found itself impaling the mass center of a Kaleesh warrior he encountered in one of the many jungles of Oben. Little was said about Oben, but it almost seemed like a replica of Kalee from the terrain and architecture he had seen. Despite accepting the progress of technology, the Kaleesh still honored their ancient ways that dated generations ago from whatever archaeologists and other specialists that studied in that area of history.

Not that it mattered fo Adenn.

No, he wasn’t one that gave interest to other cultures and ideas outside of his own. He was very much like his father with his crusader vibes. Probably worse due to his age, having a tendency of overconfidence and try to outmatch his fellow clansmen and the aruetii Imperials. According to reports the Kaleesh were scattered in different war bands in different regions, all making a last stand. From what he knew, according to intelligence, there was a burial grounds still intact here.

Good.

A smirk etched on his lips as he had every intention on desecrating these grounds of the Kaleesh.

 

[Djorn Bline]

D I A M O N D _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OBEN
FOCUS | OPEN

Back to where it all began, to what he was revered to the most and what made him go on the path he was committed to now.

Espionage.

And this time? Him by himself as he had always done before joining the ranks of the New Imperial Order, and becoming one of COMPNOR’s (in)famous leaders which earned him the praise of those he shared similar values of or disdain from those that were more liberal than him in contrast towards his beliefs.

Didn’t matter what people’s views were on Djorn. What mattered ultimately was the mission; a mission that was mixed in with his loyalty to his nation and a zealous personal vendetta towards those that rejected the promises of Imperialism.

Intelligence reported the collective of Yam’rii located in desecrated Kaleesh burial grounds within a dense jungle.

Sure, Imperial delegation was to meet with the leaders of this populace of Yam’rii, but COMPNOR wouldn’t stop there. Everything was to be known about these insects as they didn’t lack intelligence at all. They we’re a clever species despite being insects.

In a bodyglove and whatever armament of his choosing, he brushed through the flora and came across exactly what he was looking for.

“There.”

 

[Sinestra]

Men like Arnor had little to live for and even less to die for. Life meant an endless cycle of killing and shagging.

This is a story of the former.

"You know some eat those." he commented squatting over the corpse of a Kaleesh warrior. On his vibroblade the Kaleesh's two eyeballs lied skewered like an appetizer.

"Aliens are freaks." Arno concluded to his comrade Tavius Muuaji .

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

OBJ 1

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​

Within his helmet, Tavius cocked a brow up.

The corpses littering the ground around them were of the Kaleesh. Warriors that he was very much familiar with after his time on Kalee. One of the first missions he had took up in service of the New Imperial Order. Strong fighters, but they fell to the power of his charric rifle like any other.

"Some," Tavius answered offhandedly.

Slinging the rifle back around to his side, his vibrosword was dragged out of the centre mass of the last Kaleesh he had slain.

"Like these ones." The follow up to his initial words coming after a trio of shakes to get the blood off the blade. Huffing, the vibro tech was disabled and he ran the flat of the blade against the cloth the warrior wore to clean it. Giving a look around, Tavius found Arno again and he bobbed his head in the direction they had been heading.

"Let's go."

Sinestra

 

[Sinestra]

Arno nodded in response. He slid the eyeballs off his vibrodagger and smashed them with his boot. Good soup for a preying mynock. If there were any around.

He put back the dagger and swung the rifle from his back. Safety off. It always was, actually. As a matter of fact, its safety never worked. Why would it? You shoot to kill.

The duo carried on forward with an ominous feeling that something was watching them. The feeling never touched them, the two commandos had far too thick skull and big balls to sense danger.

They were danger.

"Smell this?" Arno asked raising a disgusted eyebrow. It smelled like dead. And tuna.

They followed a sinister hum until it led them to a sacrificial ritual. Cloaked, and in circle, a dozen or so Mon Calamari were sacrificing a live Kaleesh with a stitched mouth.

Tavius Muuaji

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

OBJ 1

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​

For the most part there hadn't been any other engagements.

The duo were a lethal combo. Whatever fates or gods of death that had put them together were surely having the times of their lives, bathing in the blood and gore that the two Storm Commandos dealt out wherever they went.

The vibrosword was replaced in its sheathe on his back, his rifle slung forwards and cradled in his grasp as he turned to Sinestra . Smell? Tavius was wearing a helmet. Of course he didn't smell it. The tilt of his helmet was enough to signal to the murderer turned soldier the bewildered look his partner had behind the helmet.

"What the..." He shuffled around the ritual zone. The aliens were in the middle of a rock outcropping that sprouted out from the earth, shielding them from the elements. Whether it was natural or not didn't matter to Tavius. He moved along their flanks, pressing a shoulder into the boulder as he took cover.

Tavius already knew what the result would be.

But the words fell from his mouth anyway.

"I've got a line on their leader," he says. One of the Mon Calamri were larger, rising up and swaying their arms side to side as if swaying to the sound of the monotonous humming.

 

[Sinestra]

OBJ 1

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​

They crept as silently as death with the cultist freaks in a trance, Arno believed even storming into their ritual might not disturb them.

But a blaster should.

Tavius, as efficient as always, caught visual on the head honcho of this band of psychos. Mattered little, though, and he knew it.

"Ok i shoot."

He rose up from the cover and autofire sprayed the area as if it was spring cleaning.

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

OBJ 1

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​

As those fateful words fell, Tavius fired.

His angled shot had been changed, foregoing firing on the leading alien who hit a jig, and aimed for the Kaleesh that was tied up. The alien was a sacrifice and suffering. The least Tavius could do was put 'em of its misery.

The crimson bolts rained from their position. The crossfire was effective, nailing Mon Cala in their heads and torsos, dropping them to the ground as their insides were superheated and melted inside of their now still bodies. There was no regard for them, whether or not they were good guys. They were suspect, and they shot them. That was it.

All that was left was the tied up Kaleesh, and Tavius knew the ugly bastard didn't have long left with Sinestra on the scene.

 

[Iryss]

Objective II: Buried Secrets
Location: Oben
Alias: Countess Iryss Young​

"Pew pew."

Iryss finger gunned down a Death Trooper who slowly collapsed on to the floor in a comical fashion. It took a couple hundred tries to get the act down perfectly, mainly due to the intensive amount of goading it took to convince a Death Trooper to even think about being humorous let alone be the butt of the joke.

She was apart of some diplomatic attachment sent to meet the wayward troglodytes of Oben. Not that Iryss was any way involved in actual diplomatics, but COMPNOR gave her the credentials as a Countess. She was to use her skills as an ISB agent to...distract?

"Sigh."

Clearly there were better things to be doing, but Iryss made sure to max out the spending limits COMPNOR gave to fulfill the role. She spent most of the budget purchasing various corporate shells and mining entities on Oben to give off the visage of an Imperial noble interested in expanding their holdings to the newest member to the New Imperial Order.

Oben was primarily a mining colony of Kaleesh and Yam'rii but their traditions and intelligence dropped after centuries of no oversight. So while mining operations were legally secured with various amounts of aurodium or credits, Death Troopers silently swept in to reacquire these spent assets which were deposited into Iryss's personal accounts. Mine owners and mining corporation executives vanished overnight but the governing body would be unaware of what happened until it was too late.

Even if the governing body continued to rule over the world, the most valuable mining properties were already reappropriated to her own proxies and the order to immediately start on strip-mining and exporting anything of value were already sent out. Centuries of complacency had led to a smooth corporate transition from savage backwater colonists to Iryss's pockets.

So when the delegation warmly greeted her and invited her into the meeting, she smiled brightly.

"Thank you for your hospitality."

Diplomats
Enlil
Open

​

 

[Halketh]

F I R E I N T H E S K Y
Enter The Vulture
Objective II : Find the Truth

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Eagles may have dared here, but vultures had gathered long ago.​

Ah, diplomacy. His least strong suit, of course. His tenure as Autarch of Carlac had learned him the ways of negotiation and understanding, even if it never suited his mantle before. He only hoped the suspicions bubbling at the flank of his awareness were untrue, though his motivations as to why were tarnished only by his unobjective bias towards the dead to begin with. Tyrell Paxxus was his latest work, and quite considerably one of the most remarkable. The Lord of Ice's less-than-righteous practices were the reason, of course, why he was dispatched here to sniff out the putrid rot of necromancy. If anyone could root it out and find it, it was him.​

The second he had stepped off of his ship, he had felt it resonating in the earth beneath his shoes. He could smell it. It nagged at the back of his mind, grasping his curiosity in much the same way the dark practices had to begin with decades ago. Nostalgia. He could have basked in the flows of The Force surging about the world as it was perverted and twisted into a corrupted shade of itself, but... there was the matter of intent to uncover. As much as he would have simply adored being the one to stroll in to interrupt such a ritual, he had been sent here for round table discussion- not feasting.

He wandered into the arranged space as languidly as he strolled anywhere, flanked not by his apprentice for a change, but rather a pair of troopers from his special interest battalion back home: Doom Divison. Their snow-white armors and lengthy cloaks were outdone only by his own pristine robe and golden accouterments, polished by the contrast of the crimson blindfold secured over the bridge of his nose to conceal the smooth skin beneath. Halketh did not turn his head to greet those who had arrived before him, though as much was expected of a miraluka. He acknowledged them with a silent nod of his head and a pearled smile of disarming span. ​

Prophecy had unwound itself before his eyeless gaze days ago, revealing much, yet naught in its strange foil. It was a blessing, but a curse in tandem, to be the witness to acts and never know the cause. Or vice versa. Mumurings. Incantations. Sorcery. That much alone had been enough to spike his blood with a feverish passion, yet this eager under dwelling remained as much as he took his seat. His tattooed face was a hospitable mask, tucking its secrets back behind a veil of relative obscurity, as was typical. ​

The presences in the room with him were mostly unfamiliar, and he found this strange. The woman, he had heard mention of in COMPNOR briefings, but the other... he hadn't the faintest idea. ​

He voiced the same sentiment Iryss had, at the very least, and turned his head towards their hosts to speak as the troopers settled in behind him, growing eerily still as they did so. "Thank you for your warm welcome. Shall we begin?"​

Iryss Enlil ​

 

[Strain]

​

In true fashion NIO had deployed all its asset to the surface. Fresh from the campaign on Ord Thoden the 1st Stromcommandos, squad Aurek arrived with fire in their hearts and iron on their hips. As the treetops zoomed by their passive sensors were running, tagging life forms large enough to be Kaleesh. Sarah their Comms and Tech expert had re-calibrated the ships scopes to pick up concentrations. The easiest way to crush a military force was to destroy their operating bases, leaders and supplies.

They were looking for the mother-lode. They were looking to deny the enemy sanctuary. Far from the wanton slaughter their comrades visisted at random, they were much more precise and determined in their selection of targets.

"Still nothing on scopes."

Strain grunted, rubbing a piece of carbon from his X-17 Nightstinger Rifle.

"Pilot, make another pass, fly lower. Let's skim these treetops."

"Roger."

Strain grinned, reaching up to grasp a cargo strap.

They dropped several hundred meters, and then leveled off. The pilot ripped into a steep bank.

"Status?"

"Got a ping."

"Pilot, level out, Harken, get those bikes unlocked."

His demo expert nodded, releasing the mag clamps that held their 74-Z Speeder to deck.

"Y'all ready?" Strain asked, snapping his rifle to a magnetic holster on his back.

They each flashed a green indicator.

"Mount up."

They mounted their bikes, kicking on the repulsors.

"Open doors, drop ten meters, we're a go."

The door opened, the craft dropped. The four man squadron screamed down the ramp, dropping an additional meter before their repulsors caught, kicking up dust, grit and brown stone. Strain pressed the throttle, racing ahead as the craft climbed, ready to provide Arial support. The team followed suit, racing towards the Nav marker Sarah had dropped in their HUD.

"Standbye to kill repulsors. Sarah let us know when we're a thousand meters out...."

 

[Adenn Munin]

The end of a spear slammed against his helm, leaving Adenn stunned from the attack for a moment as he took a few steps backwards in order to put some distance between him and the Kaleesh Warrior. A warrior that was more experienced than him, a veteran of many battles with how decorated his armor was. Armor that was primitive and modern, lots of feathers and bones around the metal plates.

The young Mandalorian could kill the warrior at ease with a blaster, he had the technology available to his disposal for such a simple task. In fact, this skirmish would be much easier for him and his fellow clansmen if they resorted to those methods; however, the ways of his clan refused that. What challenge would this be if they didn’t adopt archaic weapons to meet the same match as their opponent. These “ways” he did not understand, but he’d respect them nonetheless.

Even his armor was “archaic”. That made him upset.

Stupid traditions

Regaining his composure he approached the Kaleesh to engage the warrior again, hoping to achieve victory with their blood on Adenn’s spear.

 

[Isaiah Dax]

​

The Force Knight trekked the jungle leaving a wake of carnage before him. How he reveled the chaos and pain he inflicted on these useless savages, how their life drained from their bodies. It was super satisfying to say the least. As he continued down his path, he could sense kalee warriors going for an encirclement. They were going to jump at him from the trees and then plunge into him. That might work on a few force users of sloppy form, but Isaiah felt he was a match for his adversaries. He was confident in letting them believe they had the upper hand and when stepped a few more paces forward, two kalee warriors jumped at him from the trees but Isaiah dashed in reverse and use the force, grabbing the bodies of the warriors and forced their skulls into each other. He then took his crimson lightsaber from his holster and ignited it as two more kalee warriors appeared before him.

he lightly pushed one of the warriors with the force using his lightsaber on the one who had a phrik sword, a moderately effective weapon against a lightsaber but his form was pretty sloppy, Isaiah easily tripped him and slashed his back. The last kalee warrior made a stance instead of charging into him he made a stance and Isaiah smiled finally seeing a worthy challenge amongst this rabble. The two swag their blades at each other gracefully as if it were a dance of swords, something Isaiah never had in a while. He was made infuriated when the kalee punched him in the face and before he could be struck by the phrik blade, Isaiah shocked him with a current of force lighting shot from his fingers. Frustratingly he stopped and looked at the dying kalee warrior, kicked him to his back and stabbed him multiple times while cursing at him.

Satisfied, Isaiah continued down his path and saw a clearing in the jungle. As he emerged he saw Adenn Munin the young Mandolorian warrior prepare himself to fight this decorated elite kalee warrior. Isaiah decided to sit back against a tree and observe.

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

BLUE-HEART BATTALION

OBJECTIVE 1: Unfinished Business

ALLIES: Adenn Munin Sinestra Tavius Muuaji Strain Isaiah Dax

Standing over what appeared to be a renowned warrior of the Kaleesh, bound and gagged like his two unfortunate friends, (both tied to the same tree, just a few yards away from their singled-out hero) all of Lord Erskine's senior-subordinates were heatedly contesting each other's favoured methods of interrogation until Barran stepped out from his ACV. All had fallen deathly silent as the Lord-Major strolled up to take control of the situation, appraising the prisoners' binds and their own defensive-perimeter before locking eyes onto the captured foe his subordinates had separated from the others; only Captain Shugg dared step from the crowd, but his stepping out had been left unchallenged as Erskine's adjutant approached with a small toolbox in hand.

Squatting to sit eye-to-eye with his captive, the Lord-Major was wrinkling his nose at the stench when his Captain had laid the toolbox by his right foot, but still managed to bring himself to focus again as he pulled the gag from the creature's face. Leaning in with a look of mild disgust, Barran smirked as he studied the facial-features of the bound Kaleesh before deciding to speak with his victim directly. 'Greetings, freak....', Erskine muttered, waving lazily before pausing to bring the tools from their steel-plated container, letting the warrior's imagination run wild on every instrument of pain the Lord-Major laid out between them. The creature's eyes widened further with every new tool that was placed on the ground before him, but when the Kaleesh's eyes drew back towards Barran's, the true horror began to take hold in his heart. There was no malice, nor rage or platitudinous empathy in Erskine's eyes, only the apathetic emptiness of a cold-blooded torturer.

'So, where are the others? It's aw'right, I know you can understand me, same goes for your friends here; but if you wish to stop me from using my tools....', the Lord-Commander said, trailing off to give the Kaleesh a chance to save himself from a slow death, but still receiving nothing but silence in return. 'No?', Erskine began, shrugging as he lifted the hammer and chisel, continuing with a demeanour that implied the warrior had every chance to speak for himself,'Suit yersel, Kaleesh. Just don't act like you weren't given the opportunity to die like a man, aw'right?'

'Milord-'

Interrupting his captain's curiosity, Barran cut Shugg's train of thought with the truth of the matter, grumbling,'-They've been silent since the moment o' capture, and no even a word ti each other in their native-speak; no ti mention the fact this one's probably sworn ti serve these skinny,"Warriors", here.', as he lined up the chisel on the gum-tissue above the creature's front teeth. The Kaleesh trio quickly grew uneasy in response to the Lord-Major's revelation, but it was too late; Erskine had already surmised correctly that these were the last remnants of a once-great clan, and had also noticed the recording device set behind the warrior's front teeth, so there was nothing these creatures could do that would stop the Blue-Hearts from finding (and destroying) their hidden overlords.

​

​

 

[Djorn Bline]

D I A M O N D _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
OBEN
FOCUS | CLOSED

If there was a blacklist of species he’d commit mass genocide, the Huk would sure be on it. Their own appearance disgusted him. Two meter insects? Big enough to catch all the ugliness from an insect that was smaller than these. Luckily, he didn’t have a phobia for these kinds of creatures. Someone who did would probably piss their pants and faint from where they stood.

And honestly? He couldn’t blame them.

The Kaleesh burial ground had a great pyramid, a temple dedicated to fallen Kaleesh warriors that was desecrated and repurposed for whatever methods the Huk had in mind. There were plenty of these insects out on patrol, sweeping the area for any foreigners. Tight security they have, no doubt they were hiding something worthwhile.

Surely all their secrets were hidden within the temple itself.

 

[Savoh Muska]

Objective 1

​

Savoh hated taking risks, not matter how much the odds were stacked in his favor. Being a mile high in a metal wedge shaped corvette, and even that felt too risky for the "vulnerable" brain in a jar. That's why in the command deck of the Raider-Class Corvette Savoh wasn't technically there. Instead delegating this mission to a Human Replica droid with a personality matrix based on his own but still wholly subservient to Savoh proper from afar.

Even if the flavor of enemy this week was a splinter group of the savage Kaleesh he wasn't really interested in entertaining the warlike people desire to achieve great deeds. Willing to snuff out their hopes and dreams of facing down an enemy in glorious honorable combat.

Did that make Savoh a cold person? Considering that his brain was almost always kept in a liquid cooled freezer to prevent overheating... Yeah probably.

Flying overhead Savoh's proxy body, and thus extension of himself ordered his skeleton crew to target dozens of enemies below. Giving the order he was ready to lay waist to a good portion of the landscape directly around them. With his command several cluster missiles launched from the corvette. Bellow he bombarded the forests and the Kaleesh opposition. Utilizing the ships heavy laser cannons to accurate pick off remaining stragglers among the wreckage.

"Cry 'Havoc... and let slip the dogs of war." Savoh uttered to himself, quoting a phrase.

Spoiler

​

 

[Adenn Munin]

He could not prevail against this Warrior. The Mandalorian was graced with stamina and agility from his youth, but the Kaleesh veteran equalized the playing field with the wisdom from his age and experience. Adenn’s insistence and perseverance in breaking the Kaleesh’s guard made him frustrated, and that itself turned into anger.

Anger was a powerful tool, but it often was a double edged sword if used incorrectly. And a good demonstration for that was when...

All of a suddenthe blade of the Kaleesh’s spear thrusted into Adenn’s right above his right upper pectoral, piercing the armor. The young warrior was in shock, his adrenaline soaring through his veins as the pain was repressed from him crying in pain. Blood came from his wound, and the spear was pushed more into the Munin and at that point he finally did groan from the pain. Finally it was taken out of his flesh when he dropped his spear and placed both hands upon the spear, pushing and pulling himself out from it. More blood escaped from his wound and he staggered backwards, retreating from his opponent.

 

[Sinestra]

OBJ 1

---

​

"ok i stab."

Arno ripped the Kaleesh stitches and before the alien could roar, the commando's dagger drilled through his mouth and throat leaving a gaping at the back of his head. He twisted the knife hard, left and right, snapping tendons and lymphs like ropes of a bridge. The alien's dead eyes glared at Arno's soul but saw nothing.

Only the abyss.

"Find anything?" he asked his comrade nonchalantly.

Tavius Muuaji