A NEW TERROR( STAR WARS CROSSOVER)

[sonofccn]

From: Imperial Archives
To: Commodore Krevin
Subject: requested brief

In compliance with your query here is the court’s brief on the dossier of Commander Mallus S. Tyler and his service to the Empire. Further transcripts of the proceedings can be obtained should you so desire.

*Born on Coruscant 27 BBY to an Abraham and Tigeria Tyler.

*20 BBY reappears in records for the second time with the death of his parents in a speeder-car accident. Investigation revealed cause was due to faulty wiring of the speeder’s electrical systems resulting in a minor cash settlement between the Tylers’ estate and manufacture. Young Mallus is placed into foster care.

* 19.8 BBY reported missing by appointed guardian and Executer of estate Ragnor Dresk. Dresk himself subsequently arrested when further investigation revealed inexplicable withdrawals from the trust set up from the settlement using his access codes.

* 15 BBY Following his use in a sting against anti-Imperial Crimelord by the Imperial Security Bureau young Tyler was appointed to a “vice squad” composed of similarly underaged but loyal children of Compnor. It was also during this time that Admiral {Censored} first took note of him and becomes a vocal if invisible supporter.

*14 BBY-11 BBY served under the ISB taskforce earning numerous distinctions and commendations from superiors for being “bold”, “initiative drive” and “ruthless” as well as possessing an innate ability to fund and support his team deep undercover.

*11 BBY Meets Admiral {Censored} for the first time offering Mallus a role in his extremely polyglot and diverse “staff”. Accepting, and with the approval of the Bureau, was charged with “resource allocation” in Hutt space as part of a ten man veteran team. A month later Tyler was located alone in a solitary shuttle the team but himself declared dead but with the Hutt clans in agreement with the “allocation” he’d been dispatched to obtain. Admiral {Censored} was noted as being “Quite pleased” at these turn of events.

* 11 BBY-9 BBY continued to serve beneath the Admiral in protection of the Empire from enemies both from within and without in addition to studies of {Censored} and other creatures and weapons the Admiral felt were “neglected opportunities”. Including traveling to the planet {Censored} to obtain viable embryos specimens for study. Was also “crucial” in “allocating” the mech-world Gocdlrow to the Admiral cause. It was during this time Tyler received his first taste of naval life posing as a ratting on the Bulk Cruiser Gullym to undercover the anti-Imperial leanings of its captain.

* 9 BBY on his eighteenth year received permission from the Admiral to attend an Academy on Gocdlrow were he conducted himself as a studious scholar through frequent absences corresponding with self-declared operations by the Admiral suggests his continued service.

*7 BBY graduates with a full Lieutenant commission is immediately assigned to the Dreadnaught heavy cruiser Fearless attached to an anti-piracy squadron. Remarked by his commander as being “agreeable” and “eager”. Is credited with the snaring of the elusive Pirate Lord Mariel by deducing an irregularity of a repeated occurrence of her visiting a planet’s starport with further inquiries leading to her lover there which at last drew the Pirate Lord to battle.

* 5 BBY promoted to Lt. Commander and transferred to the freshly minted Imperial Star Destroyer Abyss on “pacification” duties through Hutt space. There Commanding officer Dracon rated his performance at “excellent” but found him personally “distasteful”. Claiming in his logs that Tyler “ was too flashy with his credits”, and “always seemed flushed with them”. He also found “ when off duty over a planet frequently vanishes to the surface” believing that “in a true crisis I am sure I could not depend upon him to be at his station”.

* 4.6 BBY Tyler assumed effective command of the Abyss following the deaths of both Captain Dracon and subcommander Preial, both victims investigations headed by Tyler revealed of an Zygerian slaver-cartel competing against the Hutts and eager to prove their dominance. In retribution ignoring orders to return to a starbase preceded with the Abyss, and his Battlesquadron, to the slaver hideout destroying it “to the last misbegotten soul”. Afterwards he brought the Abyss to starbase Omega-thirteen where he was granted a full Commander’s commission over the Imperial Star Destroyer

* 4.6 BBY to 2 BBY Served with distinction from Hutt space to the fringes of Wild Space pacifying unruly systems, brokering/enforcing peace between the petty squabbles of lesser planets which frequently broke out, and carrying out the Emperor’s mandate of order. Culminating in his coming to the aid of a heavy force besieging the icy moon of Glacialis which had become a “free haven for associated filth” and giving the order on his authority to “bombard” the moon to “atoms”. Earning further honor and commendation from his heroic and swift action bringing to end a “cancer on the morals of the galaxy” with talks of the commission of Captain and the possibilities of greater things being discussed before among the ruins of toppled buildings and slagged machinery a survivor was uncovered. An Imperial officer nominally attached to the sector’s Grand Moff whom he incriminated of supporting through himself the “worst criminal scum of the cosmos” as both a separate revenue stream away from the prying eyes of the budget committee and justification for his increasing martial attitudes.

* 1 BBY caught in the wake of the Skorn Scandal, named after Grand Moff Rigiol Skorn, allegations surfaced against Mallus Tyler of unscrupulous activities including but not limited too trafficking, illicit transport, bribery, embezzlement and theft prompting him to stand down from the Abyss and return to Imperial Center awaiting tribunal.

[sonofccn]

“This is Doctor Langstrom of Lab 12…situation critical…he’s escaped suspension…subject two-sixty-two has escaped…order lockdown immediately…I repeat lockdown immediately and…No! Please…no…no I-aaaargh!” Final communication from Lab 12 following the breach.

Imperial Classics-The Early Years:

Last time on Imperial Classics{The Early Years} a galaxy in jeopardy! Unrest and misdeeds rock the nascent born Empire prompting loyal legions to scour the cosmos enforcing the Emperor’s vision of order and stability. But threats are manifold and immense, unsung warriors toil in the shadows to achieve the Emperor’s ultimate victory. Where a moments hesitation holds the scales of life and death itself!

The motors of the lift compressing into place and the doors strain and fail to open Tyler stepped forward to the emergency panel dragging his elbow into the shaggy being beside him taking up most of the elevator’s room. A brawny limb like a tree trunk fell down upon the wiry human lifting him off of his feet and planting him against the bulkhead at eye level to the growling Wookiee. Its bowcaster pressing into his stomach to further underscore the point of the meaningless guttural words it breathed over him in its hot, humid voice.

“B’rec is a bit twitchy at having his personal space violated.” A fellow human and the third and final member of the team translated needlessly, his face a cobweb of interlocking lacerations which had given him his name.

“Yeah…thanks I think I got that…can he put me down now?” Tyler gasped just barley able to draw breath into his lungs against the phenomenal pressure the larger alien so effortlessly was bestowing.

At his question he felt the grip worsen and things began to pop, through thankfully he felt nothing break with the shifting, as he was informed that along with having his being respected the shaggy Xeno detested when humans spoke to the translator opposed to himself. B’rec also making clear he understood Basic quite, quite flawlessly, the benefits of growing up in an Imperial work-camp, even if the contours of his mouth were incapable of speaking the language with any merit.

“I understand…I understand.” Tyler answered prompting a note of laughter from Scars as well as the Wookiee who at last released the young man letting him drop to the floor.

Then the hairy alien reached a paw out to the emergency panel, tore it free of its hinges with the barest ripple of its arm and flung it back against the wall to reach in and grab the manual handle it had shielded. Pumping the plastic lever back and forth the savage proceeded to pull open the depowered lift doors where the mechanical muscle had failed revealing on the other side a darkened room bathed in long shadows and the flickering pale glow of what few overheads still remained. The cold, lifeless air that seeped in from the gloom already rancid, spoiled, with the scent of rot and decay while at the same time hinted at a dusty, sterile musk of a long forgotten tomb.

A crypt, a description not unworthy Tyler saw from his heap on the ground through the widening gap. A momentary arc of light between connections helping to reveal the hand on the floor, nails split off, laying in a drying pool of blood as well as the numerous palm prints smashed into the dented and abused walls. Conduits, lights and security cameras hung from the ceiling like emaciated intestines from some colossal Krayt dragon, caked in the same grime as everything else.

More impressed than horrified Scars poked his head out through the parting doorway along with the end of his blaster carbine gazing at the draping cables and smeared walls. The small illuminator slung underneath his weapon’s barrel clicking on revealing bloody scratches run over the wall alongside jumbled script written in blocky crimson letters in a dead alien glyphs.

“Feeeeth me.” He crooned, whistling approvingly as his light sank to reveal the crushed body of a lab coated scientist stuffed into a corner.” Guess we can scratch rescuing any survivors.”

At his side the large, shaggy alien began a series of yipping howls of laughter, neither of them having held out a moment’s thought to actually carrying out that part of their orders. Nor did the Admiral actually expect them too, merely to contain or destroy the experiment. Something they both confidently expected to carry out, B’rec stepping out through the hole first followed by Scars and than lastly by Tyler who limped out cautiously holding a hand over his sore chest. The light from his illuminator shaking as it panned over the ruined walls to mingle with his human comrade’s at a thick blood trail running through a busted open doorway, the two panels of its door curled inward like the petals of a flower, and into an equally destroyed hall. A fresh trail which still glistened in the light and danced on the senses of the Xeno team member.

Again the Wookiee went first casting dagger like glances at Tyler as it did so and allowing the slightest rumbling growl to leave its throat, the giant alien having to stoop its shaggy form to bend underneath the parted durasteel curls following after the crimson marker along the ravaged corridor to one of the nameless labs which dotted this section of the complex. Its door broken open, folded in half inward, with the slick trail continuing through its internal shroud to its center from whence an extremely pungent musk rose from. A sickly sweet smell which made Tyler gag, lift his hand from nursing his bruise to cover his mouth and nose, reminding Scars of awakening in a crashed transport the rest of his unit and its crew dead and for B’rec the worst and most forsaken parts of his world of birth. Places only the very brave or foolish dare tread upon and barely no longer a pup B’rec had done so. Being the second worst experience of his life, outdone only by the frail humans with their white armor forcing him into a work-camp, through one which had made him hardier for it.

Then as now he did not hesitate to step into it turning swiftly to check the strewn shadows cast off by the flickering light panels hanging by frayed cords from the ceiling and the sickly green glow thrown off from the maturation chambers which lined the wall of the lab. Misshapen things not of one true race but merged and mixed without forethought or concern floated within the suspension of green ooze developing from embryo to adult stage.

These caught Tyler’s eye when he stepped in, entranced by their gestalt forms hibernating in life-death, but only for a heart beat. His eyes falling to the mound made up in the center of the room, a heap of headless limbless torsos mangled together encircled by white husks with a cleaned and scrubbed skull laid at the very summit. Above and across the walls not taken up with maturation chambers more blocky scrawls in the same dead and forgotten runes hung. Dark ruby script lettering darker pleas to that which slumbered beyond the veils of mortal comprehension, recited text unseen or spoken in thousands of years since before the days of the Great Sith Lord Bane and thankfully equally uncomprehendible to the trio which stalked to the shadow of the grisly shrine of supplication.

Doing nothing to disturb the offering left by experiment two-sixty-two as they encircled the heap, searching the room for any signs of the wayward creation. Stepping gingerly over the white husks, which the tattered labcoats and uniforms attached to them revealed as some of the missing personal. What remained was less a hollowed skin then an impression of a body impressed upon the most delicate of silk and flattened out to the cheapiest of flimsies, grayish-whitish matter which broke to dust at the slightest touch.

Motes of which floated around Tyler as his illuminator fell to the solitary door beside the one they entered through, this was surprising intact but which a blood mark on its control panel. His pale face turning slowly to Scars who only leered back and then to the shaggy alien which grumbled something in its language and stepped forward tapping one finger against the door button.

“Playing with the big boys kid, man up or your just blaster fodder.” Scars cackled of the whirr of the opening door, B’rec stepping confidently across looking to the corner on his right as from the left a blur exploded catching him.

The echo of the human mercenary’s laugh not dying as the heavy, muscular alien was thrown to the deck plate after a flight across half the room its bowcaster turn from its clutches and a defensive blow snatched from the midair. Servos first forged eons previously squealing as they tightened over the Wookiee’s paw, the Xeno howling in pain as its hand vanished beneath its steely’s opponent and red mist. A cry silenced with the other robotic hand of the millennia old warrior clasping around the larger alien’s throat in an unbreakable grip that yet did not replicate the results of its subduing B’rec’s hand. Prolonging the alien’s suffering and its life as the ancient Sith battledroid began to feed once more, servos squeaking it turned its head after the two remaining team members showing of its silver eyes flashing with stolen vibrancy.

“Roger…roger…” It spoke like a scythe being dragged over a grind wheel.

With each word B’rec’s struggling growing more subdued and even through the poor lighting of the room his fur first lost its luster then began to fade to an unnatural gray. The shaggy alien’s eyes, wide with alarm, twisting in their sockets towards Scars and Tyler pleading silently with them, a plea both men answered by training their illuminators onto the vassal of dark Sith alchemy and fired. The thing’s torso exploding in sparks and burning filaments, half a dozen holes gouged through its armored exterior to its soft, delicate innards. Wires snapped, circuits melted, molten bled ran freely from its chassis as the metal-beast rocked backwards in a deaththrow only to recover ending Scar’s triumphant holler mid utterance. An expletive replacing it when he saw the battledroid right it cementing its hold upon B’rec and vampyricly drawing the rest of his life essence. Silicon boards restructuring from the scoured wreckage like gleaming towers rising up from the earth, wires slivering up across the blown holes like serpents while the metal sprouted like scales suturing up the craters. While its victim turned a mottled colored gray and shriveled, flattening out against the deckplate until only the outline of the once powerful warrior remained.

“Roger…roger.” The machine repeated as frigid as the planet Hoth releasing its drained meal and fully reformed sprinted through the renewed hail of blaster fire towards the door.

Shrugging off the destructive pulses as it bounded effortlessly across the room landing with the force that would have shattered a leg made of flesh and bone and catapulting once more into the air. A hand out stretched towards the warm, inviting vessels of life it needed to sustain its program. Scars, reacting with his reflexes heighten by years of grim survival, swinging his weapon towards the ceiling as he leaned away to smash his palm against the door button sealing the thing away. Missing it however when a force struck him from behind pushing him onto the robot’s talon like fingers which carved through him, felt it clutch over one of his ribs and painfully pull him into its cold, lifeless embrace. A feeling which washed over him as his insides puckered and shrunk against the gnawing hunger of that which animated the ancient battledroid, a horrible draining sensation agony being excruciatingly aware of his being ebbing. The blaster bolt which split his skull a millisecond before one claimed the droid’s was almost something of a relief.

Tyler, retreating a fair distance away, continued to bombard the war machine as, headless, it dropped its now expire prey and staggered after him. Its first step carrying it nearly to him and onto the edge of the small thermal charge he’d planted onto Scars’s back which detonated catching the Sithspawn and hurling it overhead the dropping Tyler to smash into a rune smeared wall. The smoldering, legless thing, falling with a crash to the floor where it spurred and twitched with broken servos but did not rise through Tyler kept a gun trained on it regardless. Standing back up he removed a small communicator from his pocket and tucked it into his ear and immediately his commander’s voice was in his head.

“Progress?” The Admiral asked anxiously, worried over his project.

“Subdued…should be repairable.” Tyler, now calm and cold himself, answered back shooting the blasted wreck one final time to make sure it stayed that way.” Regrettably my teammates were both slaughtered in capturing it.”

[Admiral Breetai]

excellent battle scenes! Cool Dune reference and Tyler being to flashy with his credits I take it was a lesson learned? all of your guys are unconventional and dangerous.

i like the dynamic between Lucky and the others they fought well joked great characters

Tyler was certainly tempered in that last battle eh?

[Praeothmin]

Tyler is a son of a slitch... :)

Nice update, nice battles...
What the hell was that thing?

[Admiral Breetai]

Sa'urion and Tyler gotta be current top two

[sonofccn]

“…and verily was the Emerald goddess wraith, the great towers of the Gilded City with their forbidden totems and forsaken shrines collapsing. Winged harpies descending from the sky as locust raking the populace clean, flame and pestilence spreading across the land until all but the barest memory of the Gilded City survived. Preserved as lesson for all whom followed after.” Legend of the city of twilight and smoke found in the book of Eibon

I.Templar Chanting because it adds gravitas

…a Supreme Truth that the Xeno is the enemy of man. Treacherous to the last, their bodies warped and misshapen from our one true image making their countenance nigh inscrutable. In their chests beats blacken hearts filled with malice while from their lips, those which posses such, springs but a thousand lies sweet to the ears and poisonous to the mind. No deed is too low for them or too debased, thirsting for the very lifeblood which courses through our veins.

On fronts uncountable they besiege us, sow discord and malcontent and it is the highest principals of our Confederacy of mankind to eradicate these bloated wretches. Your first impulse upon meeting the ALIEN should be to take it upon yourself and break it’s engorged over your knee casting the twitching remains upon some waste heap with the other forgotten rubbish. Yet those of you who have soaked the wisdom found among these many pages know that to be Archservitor to the Lord Protector means shackling such urges to a greater good, to the general will of the Confederacy.

Of this instance no difference will be made for through it is a Supreme Truth, of unquestioning import and guidance to all, the duties of the state shall from time to time force upon you to indulge in childish fables. Myths and cold lies that the ALIEN can truly think, that it can reason like that of mankind. That it wants or deserves peace. Some battles cannot be won on the first onset, your forces too weakened or distracted by another greater foe and some world or Xeno empire shall for the moment untouched from the Lord Protector’s might. At times it will be more advantageous for a prolonged and incremental death, weakening and blooding those which oppose mankind’s Supreme Destiny like a warrior laid low by Plague without needlessly draining the Lord Protector’s navies and vast legions.

Remember, if you can, to never mistake these lies and fables for the truth for you will have forsaken your birthright and perhaps if not for actions of true children of mankind the very Confederacy itself. The ALIEN can never be trusted, only misled to its destruction at a time and place of our choosing. Nor must it be immediate, years may elapse while they grow more complacent, more beguiled. Then like a beast of fodder when it’s too plump and docile to fight you can hack off its head. Everything from the first moment of contact should be leading to that moment, to the Lord Protector’s inevitable triumph, a war like any other.

And just like the war between the stars or upon the ground your every selection will have manifold repercussions, perhaps if it is possible even greater than when you are fighting openly in warfare. There raw courage and dedication may yet win the day but upon this arena of crafty intellect and battles of the mind no such crutches will be presented to you.

Therefore I would advise all to read these segments of the manuscript most carefully with hopes at least the smallest crumbs of wisdom will be imparted upon you. Like in war deeds before you meet in battle have monumental import during which and far beyond, negotiations can be won or lost before one has even sat down at the table from some slight gesture or hesitation. Hence I have found it invaluable when it comes to these talks to wait no more and no less than thirty minutes past the agreed upon hour. Longer and you dare provoke an undesirable response, less and you risk the stain of incompetence however the appointed breadth suggests first of your subdued contempt for them and their ilk and your confidence in your own forces. Properly applied those twin prongs will benefit you greatly in the talks ahead. As well the delay will move to stoke the Xeno’s fury, fluster him and set him off guard lessening his ability to play such tricks upon you.

Secondly when at last you meet the room should be adorned with the finest tapestries and statues from across the Confederacy, the very walls inlaid with gold, silver and most radiant of gemstones. The same for the chosen representative of the Confederacy, besotted in the most delicate of silks and encrusted with rings, medallions and scepters like the kings of old and forgotten realms. So to should he be served, tens of dozens of servants toiling endlessly to cater to his whims and indulgence.

Such extravagance shows our wealth and power most effectively, that our coffers our filled with riches beyond their comprehension, proving that we are a most dangerous foe. Yet such unfettered glutton also suggests we are a decadent people, one obsessed with excess and immediate rewards. Not of long term goals or posses the will and determination to carry them out and the ALIEN shall respond accordingly.

Further never be afraid to “lose face” and accept the worse off of the transaction for the first meeting for its strokes your foe’s belief in his prowess in the political arena just as you are sapping his in the physical. Rich, prosperous worlds have been delivered unto the Confederacy all but unwittingly from accepting a provincial shipping tax for our trade fleets or the granting of a few extra worthless lightyears of empty space as a buffer. A keen investment by any reckoning through one not without risks and which involves the utmost from those who wish to be my pupils. It is a score of balance that must be fielded without ever tipping to far one way so as to enrage their suspicions or the other and through their contempt and arrogance provoke conflict. I have found it advantageous to partially play the fool to these undeserving cretins, never suggesting you do not hold a firm grip of the reins of course. Such actions court disaster as believing to have found weakness they will seek it out like a bloodhound to quarry and inevitably no matter how tightly woven your web of allies they will find it.

No your ever order must be given without hesitation, must be complied with swiftly but the order’s underpinnings can be suspect. Allowing colorings of impulsiveness, emotion or shortsightedness to show in your speech shall…

Extended excerpt from Archservitor Mallus Tyler manuscript “Treaties on Subservience and Devotion” circa 55 N.E. ( 2023 AD old calender)

EDIT: forgot the italics and the "quote source". Sorry about that.


*

What the hell was that thing?

Experiment Two-Sixty-Two silly :)

Actually its stolen fairly heavily from the Chaos Android from 40K and technobeasts from an Star Wars EU novel I read once. What can I say I had the urge to write a scary segment again.

excellent battle scenes!

Thank you one and all

Tyler was certainly tempered in that last battle eh?

Well he had to be to play the chess pieces into their proper position now didn't he? :)

[Admiral Breetai]

I read it while listening to the music...effing glorious truly, truly

and wow what a declaration this is truly a universe of great warriors and unimaginable evil

[Praeothmin]

I read it while listening to the music...effing glorious truly, truly

and wow what a declaration this is truly a universe of great warriors and unimaginable evil

I read them at my work, but re-read them quickly at home so I could listen to the music...

Very nice!

sonofccn, I don't know where you got the inspiration for putting music in your fanfic, but it was a glorious one... ;)

And I like your "Instruction Booklets" on negociation with the Xenos... :)

[sonofccn]

sonofccn, I don't know where you got the inspiration for putting music in your fanfic, but it was a glorious one... ;)

Like all of my good ideas it comes from me hitting the back of people's heads with clubs and scurrying off with whatever I can grab ahold of. Namely you and Breetia, since IIRC Breetia was the one who inspired you to add music.

Very nice!

Thank you. Not that yours are any slouch, any bar I even come near was set by you and Breetia.

And I like your "Instruction Booklets" on negociation with the Xenos... :)

Well Tyler wrote it but I'll pass the compliment along. :)

Sa'urion and Tyler gotta be current top two

" Son of a slitches"? Nah, I think Sar'Ur'Ion actually has a few good points in his craggy persona.

and wow what a declaration this is truly a universe of great warriors and unimaginable evil

Well I try. Its mostly just a mix of the Art of War, Star Wars, 40k and Conan the Cimmerian. Plus HP. Lovecraft for spice.

[Admiral Breetai]

The Dune reference was pretty amusing..I can kinda see a little Corino/Harkonan influence in some your guys

and you borrow from us and then vastly improve..like some type of ancient Rome of fanfiction

[sonofccn]

Another update, to prove I haven't died I suppose :) Hope Sar'Ur'Ion's segment is "epic" enough, Breetia has set the tone rather high.

“If I wanted the job to be easy I’d had taken the professorship.” Agent John on being surrounded by cultists.

New Hope, Stout-Fortifications-That-Shall-Endure-

Silence followed the moment after the flash, the raging tempest of heat but for the creaking of the forged warped metal and the flicker of the sweltering vaporous clouds condensing over the ground cloaking it. What movement there was only animalistic, reflexive. Raw nerves responding with a pull of a muscle or a shift of weight from the blanket of steam creeping over them. From jagged edges which stabbed at their back and sides. No higher purpose in the subtle shifting of a leg or grasp of a ruddy and raw hand, no intelligence. Their minds still locked away, trapped in catacombs of pyrotechnics and concussive delusion.

Above them one of the scorched and twisted panels silently raised itself from its berth beside the cramp occupant who, partially shielded from the blast’s effects and of hardy constitution, all but oozed from the crevice. Twisting its scaly snout towards the end of the defensive corridor which smoked and the soldiers starting to stir and move beneath the carpet of whitish vapor, pulling its bulky plasma cannon off of its armored chest aiming it towards the ground below. Trigger-claw running once over the firing stud which it then curled over, the muscles freezing as a red pulse of plasma exploded against its wrist. Another shooting up from the swirling mists as the Cytherian spun its head after the source catching it across the cheek which boiled away, vomiting gases throwing its head aside against the wall with a gong like sound before expiring. The sudden heat and trauma fracturing its skull the beast slipped from its perch falling wordlessly to the ground with another crash spurring urgent life back into some of the humans scattered over the floor.

“Sweeeeeeeeeeeeeet!” Huds gasped sitting up, an imprinted memory from before his lost of conscious drawing his arm to his shoulder where the armor smoked and burned.” That packed one fething punch. Get the Ident of that bulkcruiser?”

Jek had no answer scrambling from the shroud disbelieving the fallen Viper he’d shot was truly dead. Keeping an eye on its ravaged form while he looked to the rest of Valor squad each in turn stepping up out of the mists like a Grotesque’s corpse-slave, coinciding with a return to noisy life shattering the idyllic null which had preceded it. Gnarled slugthrowers belching forth their hellish brood once more with blasters humming in kind, mingled screams of fear, hate and pain from both races colluding together into one agonizing note. But of the loudest of which bore through the rest like a Superlaser could through a planet’s crust, fiery rage poured and molded from the deepest bowels of hell shaking Kid to his core and drawing him towards Val’s body pulling itself up along the corridor wall.

Numb fingers ignoring the harsh edges and burning of the gouged wall, sizzling filaments of it and broken blast shields stuck into her armor, while eyes filled with vengeance sought out the red rimmed dripping crater where he had been a moment before.

“Draaaaaaaaaaaaaaake!” The word bubbling from her frayed and creased lips, a lightening rod for her malice, ire and hate for and against.

She took a step forward through the seething caldron of vapor, saw lurking things squirm into view past the burning hole. Saw their weapons, taking another step over the pitted and uneven landscape she tried to use her E-Web only to find it unresponsive on a squeeze of the trigger. Through eyes still foggy from the blast she saw seared cables, scorched metal along its frame and in disgust disposed of it. Pitching it to freely swing in the air on its broken mechanical arm as she reached around and undid the straps to her armor, removed it becoming faster. Becoming lighter. Swooping down as enemy fire crackled around her snatching a rifle from the scaly hands of the dead beneath the swirling mists, adjusting to its weight as she rose back up and through a lifetime affinity towards weapons found her hands fitting smoothly around an handle and trigger modeled three times their size.

Another scream of anger mirroring the gun’s roar to life, each shudder feeling like a large asteroid hitting her, she pushed a foot forward yet again following it immediately with the other. Marching against the kick of the weapon she carved apart the pack of Vipers with towards the crater, dropping the rifle once its drum had been depleted and drawing her pistol out to continue. Three more of the vermin falling by her hand before she reached her destination, knelt beside its cherry red edge feeling her skin blister from its radiance. Reaching out through the vaporized ether of his body into the hole, confirming for her senses with a jarring strike its dissolution.

“Until we stand in the hall of the Frost Giants.” She promised standing up from the pit, feeling some solace wash through her even if she found the mythology of the northern berserker clan ludicrous.

But not enough, not yet at least. Stepping past the smoldering pit where the Corporal had vanished she strode after the latest newcomers disgorging from the barricaded corridor on the far side of the radio room. Snarling vagabonds draped in thicker plate armor wielding machine pistols in one massive claw and unblemished iron axes with heads rivaling her torso in the other. Behind them more slinked out from behind the gray skinned blast shields, fragmentation cannons in their grip with wicked swords clipped over their wrists and bodies. She smiled.

Elsewhere the galaxy continued to twist and shift around Huds, staggering through the mists and echoing cacophony reaching out a hand to grab at Frost. Blocking the dazed the soldier’s blow he traded at the touch, pulling the two of themselves close to be heard over din.

“Sarge…where’s the sergeant?!” Huds struggled feeling what felt like meat hooks dig into his temples.

“Don’t know I…gone...gone…” Frost slurred pulling away thoughts exploding like supernovas through his recovering mind, understanding growing in orbs that a heartbeat before had been like glass.” He was…over there…before the explosion…”

Pointing a hand directing to a rippling moss bed of steam where a blast shield hung limply all but wrenched from its moorings to the wall. Then he stepped away vanishing from Huds’s field of vision to join with Valor squad holding off the Eastern corner of the passage. The sounds of the exchange of gunfire and blaster shots echoing in his ears as he stumbled towards the selected spot, bending to sweep his arm across fanning the mist asunder and nearly falling on his backside as the gaping jaws of a Viper appeared. Its face, even in death, frozen in horrible lunge its teeth extended outward eager for the taste of soft meat and largely the only wholly intact remainder of personage. The body it crushed over the giant, iron like man beneath like a canvas bag filled with slime. Giving porously to his touch as he gripped it feeling it ooze shift as he lifted it up and over where it landed with a squish unearthing the limp form of Master Sergeant Aphorious. Blood smudged armor cracked, arms singed and his rebreather split open showing a bruised face with a busted lip. The eyes closed, the features so very still, even more so than Huds’s breath running a hand down to his neck. Feeling the flutter of a pulse the same instant he felt a coarse hand wrap around his throat and the Sergeant’s bayonet lightly prick up into his gut.

The figure below him snorting, crinkling his nose as he expelled loosened blood pooling in his sinuses, and cracking open his eyes which looked up like burning hot coals to the private before for ultimately releasing him. Snapping his blade back onto his fog shrouded rifle while Huds bolted back up a hand around his rubbed red throat.

“Ain’t you happy to see me.” He complained, feeling cobwebs fall from his mind.” You know we have an enemy happy enough to kill us, we don’t need you helping.”

”Always with your lip Huds, amazing someone hasn’t blown it off you.” Aphorious answered with a dry chuckle swinging up at his waist in a very droid like manner before pushing off with a foot and falling back in a very nonmechanical way.” FETH! The Emperor take it if Drake wasn’t already dead I swear I’d kill him.”

Rising up again he planted one calloused hand on Huds shoulder and nearly dragging the smaller man down hefted himself balancing on one booted heel. The other, half submerged beneath the stinging blanket of white, hung at the wrong angle everything around the ankle turning the wrong color with a sharp corner that shouldn’t have been poking out the side. Dark fluid leaking out along the back of the shoe to the floor, growing worse once Huds adjusted the Sergeant’s weight over his shoulder and the two began to hobble across.

“Corpsman?!” Huds called looking over the twisting shapes seeping and receding through the mists and the living ones scurrying about the raging battle.” The Sergeant needs a Corpsman!”

“I need a few pints of Saurian brandy and a lady of ill repute.” Aphorious rumbled like thunder pulling away slightly to be better aim his rifle.” I’ll settle for a couple of grenades and for you to quit your moaning soldier!”

“Ah Sarge…you don’t have to sweet talk little old me.” Huds grinned shambling towards the wall’s edge where a cluster of soldiers fought slamming Aphorious only slightly harder into than he had too.

Huds letting him slide down to the floor as he tended to his leg peeling back the sticky fabric of his uniform trouser away from the gnarled bone poking up through the torn flesh, some of it fastened by the rivers of blood seeping out from the wound going up with the pant’s cuff. That along with the bed of mist which coiled over it causing the big man’s sharp intake of breath as he tore away his ruined rebreather. Hard muscles like ferrocrete working in the big man’s face holding his mouth shut and his features blank, only the sucking sound of his flared nostrils as he inhaled copious amount of the blood soaked air for a scream he’d never permit himself. The sound dying a slow, rattling death almost a slow strangle and with muscles still bulging and rigid in his cheeks reached a head up from the snowy steam to pull at his armor vest removing a Cigarra which with work he managed to wedge between his iron lips. Eyes like the cannon balls of old rolling towards Huds frozen in indecision, pure orbs of the purest and deepest forging that shook with displeasure.

“You going to treat it or ask it out for a kiss Huds?” The Master Sergeant snarled, hands patting over his chest for a lighter.” On with it, we appear to be a tad swamped private and I can’t waste time on your goldbricking so fix it or toss me your medkit!”

Drawn by the powerful voice, cutting over the roar of weaponry like a lightsaber, Specs kneeling at the wall’s edge planted an explosive charge of boiling plasma into an Xeno’s midsection tracked up to put two more into its chest and then turned his head and leaned towards Aphorious and Huds. A note of concern in his twisted and marred flesh, sympathy glowing in his electronic eyes.

“If I may, I would suggest myself for the appointed task.” The cyborg stated in his stilted voice, gesturing with a slight nod of his head back to the carnage unfolding in the passageway beyond.” Private Huds if you will?”

“Sure buddy, sure. Anything for a Emperor handsome man like you…” The private said quickly, jovial of being relieved of the burden, reaching a hand out to clasp the machine-man on the shoulder only to draw it back as if from flame and incoherently spout a warning at the shadow spawned at his back.

A living one which by speed eluded the gaudy colored baubles which flew past exploding into the wall and ceiling and through armor and force of will endured those which blistered its sides and body. Molten fragments flying off, more biting through its thick skin, it barreled at the cyborg a sword’s blade a man arm length and more descending like metallic lightening. And like such static discharges there was a flash as a second blade swept up over the machine-man’s head striking the alien weapon with a clang of ending worlds followed by a thick cursive oath from the Master Sergeant who, with both arms strained to their utmost, pushed back against the sole limb the Xeno had swung with. Enough to withdraw the razor’s edge of his gun away twisting the muzzle to obliterate the firing machine pistol also clasped in its claws and drive another through into its forsaken reptilian heart. From its demise belched hot spittle which clung to the human warrior’s face adding to his weathered features, stinging he didn’t show sliding back down puffing away on his Cigarra working to turn the backwash singe into smoldering life.

“ Well? Get to work.” He grunted matter of factly.” Emperor isn’t paying any of us to twiddle their fething thumbs is he?”

Nodding in compliance to the brass as well as abrasive command and accepting the private’s sealed and unused medical kit Specs set about mending the wound with only a cursory glance towards Valor squad’s newest member Kid’s safety. The little stormtrooper hunkered down behind a Viper corpse trying to present as small a target as possible to the still living members of the race, cursing heavily and shooting wildly at the writhing things which darted low across the floor or the towering ones wielding the fragmentation cannons. Each one of those vomiting a bursting shell which unfurled into a cloud of shards that tore above the Corporal’s head or crashed ripping into the walls along with the softer lead being thrown up as well.

Painful recalls to the assault on the ridge, seeing those men torn apart by the dreadful weapon, burning in Jek’s brain each and every time he saw the weapon brandished, weapon jumping almost on its own accord after them only to force himself to drop it back on the Crawlers who despite all continued to surge forward.

“Emperor feth himself.” Lucky cursed from somewhere behind kid, the larger trooper’s rifle crackled past his ear dissolving the head of one of the belly wiggling fiends.” They don’t give up easy do they?”

Leaving two on either side which rose up weapon’s blazing to absorb a set of three blaster bolts, two impacting one cleaving open much of its torso while the other was only forced to the side a magma lake pouring down its armored chest. Feral hiss escaping through its jaws as it twisted its head after its attacker, reptilian eyes reflecting Aphorious’s drained form, forgetting for that instant Kid whose arms snapped up tracing along the thing’s chest and head.

“No. These Bantha breeders don’t.” The Sergeant agreed, voice irregularly growing taunt in sync with the cyborg’s mending, bending his shoulder around the wall’s edge and peppering another Viper with fire.

Drawing back immediately afterwards ahead of a scouring of flung lead to listen to the voice crackle in his ear piece, one far more grimly ecstatic at the aliens number but which begrudgingly betrayed the same opinion as Lucky.

“Western quarter’s no different, buggers are going to push through in a moment.” The Master Sergeant grumbled still listening to Val even as he leaned back around to squeeze off a couple more shots.” But we may have another way, Lucky how do your men feel about a taking a small leap?”

“If it means sidestepping this I’d kiss the Emperor and call him Shirley.” Lucky answered firing a sweep over the surging alien masses.” And unless my men speak differently I assume they do too.”

From his craven spot Jek wasted no time adding his endorsement while Specs, finishing, merely allowed one of his electronic sighs that sounded almost like his vocaliser was being strangled. His fingers tightening the last of the binding, clean white medical gauze, around Aphorious’s leg and the pair of Viper fingers he’d appropriated from a corpse to form the splint. The beast’s solid bone structure and ligaments working just as fine as any metal shard the machine-man could have wrenched from the wall, at the very least holding it all together until a proper medical professional could treat it and put him inside a bacta tank. The Sergeant took to it at least looking down at his limb, rolling it stiffly on his heel one way to the other, with approval before barking an order for Huds to help him up.

“You did good trooper.” He allowed teetering for balance.” Thank you. Now than, this isn’t a tea party, Valor squad fall back five meters and take up position to cover us when we move. We’re going to the West quarter.”

“I hear it’s wonderful this time of year, the west quarter.” Huds, holding the Sergeant aloft and shooting around the corner, remarked ruefully.” Think I can get a summer home there? Nothing fancy, just a little something to take the Missus to get away from it all?”

“Huds…shut up.” Lucky answered him raising his rifle upwards as he prepared to break for it, waiting until after Kid and Specs had made their flight.

Each of them hunkering down as best they could further inside the corridor covering for Frost, Huds and Aphorious as they stumbled away from the unrelenting horde. Watched the momentary indecision in the hostile Xenos’ eyes as they were caught between continuing after their chosen prey or their defenders, equal parts choosing one of the two with countless more pouring in. Screaming, hissing monsters which darted blinding fast, whose lithe bodies could twist and contort through the air almost like a fluid, who’d rise up from the ground reclaimed from the dead or who’d be scooped up by their living comrades and exploited as a shield. Again and again as Stormtroopers and soldiers leapfrogged past each other to the West quarter, to Val and her soldiers raging against their own surging tide of bodies. She the bloodiest of her group guarding the cooling crater through little of it belonged to her, visceral ejecta produced by the Viper weapons she liberally employed. Exhausting their diminutive capacity before breaking or beating them against the living torrent, Jek particularly grimacing witnessing her tear off a war ax from one she’d so wounded splitting open its abdomen in one brutal upward stroke. Finishing it off with a burst from her pistol, the ax head itself vanishing through the arm of another Viper, that exploded the thing’s head and sent pieces scrambling over the edge to plink at the floor beneath. Where they were going, Frost standing over poking the barrel of his rifle through briefly before stepping over the edge and falling. His voice calling out a moment later showing it was safe, for the others to continue one by one through not before Lucky braving the white hot sparks of the flying bullets poked his head and gun through the communication room and despite Specs’s assurances it was no longer operative fired full auto into it for a breath.

Turning his back on the exploding, burning wreckage then he and Valor squad could descend into the next level of hell and their next objective. Killing the brain itself.

Stout-Fortifications-That-Shall-Endure, one floor below-

While he did not truly breath a sigh of relief, almost utterly silent in the computer storeroom, he did feel a twinge of it at the renewed gun battle above his head. At the lunkheaded Imperial forces keeping the Viper’s interest, at their continued distraction while he worked. Holding a mass produced data pad connected by translucent wire optics to one of the massive computer frames, the palm held device abuzz with clicking and humming as it processed the total contents of the network.

Things from encrypted tactical files it likely would take the Crypto teams months to crack to personal letters to historical files which were fair lighter protected and which would serve far more purposely. It was reported through Galactic history that Emperor Feng Shu of the despotic world Nihca had proclaimed knowledge was the most vital weapon of any army, through “Feng Shu” was in fact merely a series of compliant individuals under the thrall of a daughter from a previous overthrown Emperor, regardless if it was actually spoken or if it was merely an elaborate allegory to make some point Jack believed in it. Which was why his datapad was modified to allow two data cards to be inserted into it, one being relayed the engrams copied into the other creating a flawless double. One he could review later at his convenience for greater personal profit as well as protection, ever since his dealings with a certain Admiral he’d learned that “Fleet” seldom like strands connecting them to their more shadowy ventures. Sensitive information, such as the numerous marked data cards he already had on his person each representing an entire Petabyte of encoded information, could however convince them to stay their hand. Far more than faith in their common cause, of which frequently splintered into self serving quests of power and glory.

From his time during the Clone Wars throughout the Imperial era he’d seen the act play out with countless permutations and variances, watched the revolving of its grand spectacle. Worlds sterilized because their acceptance of compliance would yield some officer another feather in his cap, another merit which someone else couldn’t abide for. Arranged meetings between powerful crime lords and Imperial figures who for their cut of silver and to maintain the “Status Quo” were eager to bestow the largess of the Imperial armed forces on Hutts and vagabonds. Carried out, with the Empire’s best interests of course, intricate assignations between guild or corporate forcing the factions to knife edge and into the arms of their local Imperial protector. For whom, with the greasing of gold into their coffers, they were only too obliging to step in and sort out the mess of vendettas and destruction. He’d walked through the ashy wasteland of broken lives, saw the scarred menagerie which persisted from the brokering, saw the gaunt and haunted look in the children’s eyes struggling to comprehend how the pieces broke much less how to place them as one again.

He’d seen it and from those wastes the man in black had been born, stepping out from one of those long shadows which crawled like spider silk from shattered building to the broken ground. Stepping out and removing his hat to bow in a theatrical manner, introducing himself to Jack and forming a bond that lay undivided. And it was because of that partnership that Jack still lived, would continue to do so. Sustaining himself on the life he took from others, their misery their despair, a shrouded pathogen which passed silently and unobserved like a blight. Grossly unfair he’d admit, but there was a lot of that going around.

“Nearly finished.” He thought quietly to himself pocketing the latest two data cards, each in a separate pouch, and plugging in his last two.

Capturing perhaps a third of everything contained within the linked computers but far more than the idiotic commandos fighting above him would have accomplished. Doubting any of them would know what to do beyond tossing a thermal grenade in to crudely destroy part of the delicate weave connecting the disparate segments of the alien armed forces. As well even if he possessed sufficient storage mediums he’d leave with what he’d collected so far, the man in black consciously aware of the ever shifting windows of opportunity that would lead him to the surface and pick up and how they dwindled when the soldiers above perished. Like surgeons of old forced to cut off gangrenous tissue at the expense of saving the healthier whole he made a choice.

Disconnecting the feed with a press of his thumb he ripped the optic cable out from his patch job, sliding each of the data cards out of his datapad and putting them away in their proper place when he sensed a presence squeeze into the computer chamber behind him. Turning to push with his shoulder the man’s weapon further away and directing his pulse laser to the figure’s face before he recognized it as one of his guards. The pallor aghast and covered with a fine sheen of sweat which had started to trickle, nervous fear his training wouldn’t allow him to endorse or acknowledge. His mouth sinking open to speak out a warning which Jack silenced turning away the muzzle of his pulse weapon and instead cupping the man’s moist mouth with his own hard palm. The warning already carried by the sounds of blaster fire from the rest of his protective legion, and of the dark shadow he spied but for a moment through the gap in the door racing towards his motley collection of bodyguards with a thick wake of scarlet.

Inside the computer storage Jack eyed his would be savior, met his widened alarmed eyes with his own placid ones raising a crooked finger to his lips. Hushing him as he gently released his grip on the soldier, needing his full cooperation for what he envisioned to work.

“I know, you came to get me to safety.” The man in black whispered.” You will.”

Outside room-Of-Ethereal-Records-and-Enlightenment-

The intruder weapons, Sar’Ur’Ion thought as he broke into their midst’s, were ponderous energy weapons not unlike the Moon Kingdom of Vala he’d encountered centuries of his life previously. Like they the apes’ weapons were curiously slow globules of high energy plasma, whose unmistakable radiance alerted the eyes and whose lazy flight enabled their avoidance as he did. Not that it took much skill or concentration to avoid the likes of these warriors, no focus no discipline in their art only the disjointed and erratic motions that of a male during his first ritual dance to attract a mate. Sar’Ur’Ion wielded only sword, keeping his assault pistol sequestered beneath his wrist, the lowly cretins deserving nothing better in their execution.

“…have confirmed enemy agents survived the teeth of the trap sire.” A technician’s voice clinically informed him over their link while the hilt of his sword collided with the fragile skull of an ape, pulpy ruin gushing out from the collapsing section.” Several agents according to our reports.”

“ By Saargoth’s will have them destroyed!” The Strategic Controller (Second class) roared, the walls shaking, bending back to let a trio of energy pulses fly overhead and with an upward stroke cleaved the legs off of another ape creature.

Rising up past its falling torso, rushing through the red streamers which flowed warmly over his cold scales, drawing his sword to him for a backwards thrust which skewered the mewling creature’s brain ending its struggle for life in one stinging instant, The corpse weight helping to pull it free from the blade’s tip and aiding the swiftness in which he pulled it back swinging it up, splitting open the flank and chest of another warrior, over his head and crashing it down on a third hairless ape who faster in reflexes than most swung up his long black rifle to block it. The edge of his sword tasting the metal of the weapon, cheaply forged and mass produced, and sank through it with a hail of sparks continuing with a glowing aura of dissolving matter through the fool’s skull and must of his chest cavity, red rivers flowing freely in all directions. More as Sar’Ur’Ion batted the limp body off of his weapon, claws rendering flesh like they’d been sharpened too while the sheer force splintered bones which protruded through creating crimson geysers.

“Our warriors are attempting so my sire but…they fell back to a blast scar made presumably by one of our plasma cannons, a scar punched through to the bottom most segment of the Lair.” The operative spoke with trepidation.” They are attempting to corner them but…”

“Corner nothing!” the Viper leader thundered driving the edge of his weapon through the back of the skull of the chest torn enemy which still clung to life.” Where a hairless ape can go a warrior of the Ascendancy can follow! Order them to strike down onto the apes like they would prey in the wild.”

Yanking his sword free, sending the skull rumbling across the floor where his two bodyguards waited patiently, the Strategic Controller (Second class) turned his snout after his tail which shot through the air impaling another enemy warrior through the hand, utterly destroying it to a pinkish mist while sending the primed grenade it had been arming flying behind it towards two of its own forces. Both incompetents, blessed with no true instinct, craning their heads down towards it in confusion in the final moments of their lives before both were consumed by the thermal blast, flesh vaporized off of their skeletons which in turn exploded to powderized dust. Cremated motes which rained harmlessly over Sar’Ur’Ion’s thick hide, mixing with the coating of blood to form an oily mixture, rushing towards the bomb thrower. One claw-hand crushing the fragile being’s shoulder of his ruined hand, helping to push it onto his sword and hold it still as he reared the blade up and through the figure’s other shoulder blade. Turning with a particularly flourish the dripping edge towards the last two defenders who stood in lockstep before the archive door.

“They attempted what you demand sire but the apes…they are holding ground beneath the crater lip and their weapons…they do so much damage no warrior can squeeze through and live my Lord.” The voice continued to drone into the Strategic Controller’s ( Second class) skull as he advanced weaving between the last two weapon spray.” For now they are attempting to keep the enemy pinned beneath the crater while warriors descend and surround them.”

The orders echoing in Sar’Ur’Ion mind, spoken by a different voice in a different time. In lush jungles or barren wastes, against rotting corpse-soldiers of the Brood or against metallic gray dreadnoughts birthed endlessly from automated foundries. A thousand different commanders who was not his War Master trying to tell him how to fight, young hatchling still damp from the eggs thinking they understood war. Understood it like those who had stormed the heart of a Bug ship, taken a Vraen world or waged against the armies of the Iron Golems. Weak, cautious, they lacked the strength of the War Master which if not seeing all returned home alive ensured that no body was ever cremated in disgrace of defeat.

“The time for tricks has passed!” He gutturally cried, his arm a blur in motion while crimson rained down all around him.” You risk their escape into our most sensitive areas, inform the hunter pack leaders to assault the enemy forces now or I will have their pelts for my quarters.”

“Sire, I will endeavor to comply with your request but I think…I mean…” The voice sputtered as Sar’Ur’Ion finished his butchering and the two bodies fell apart to the floor.

“You will do as I instruct.” He hissed leaving no room for argument, head snapping up from the remains to the archive room where the light of a blaster bolt flashed.

Scent of burning flesh reaching his nostrils a moment later, of which he inhaled deeply slinking towards the narrowly opened door while his guards, cautious at him leaving their sight, moved to intercept with him as he laid three fingers around the door’s edge shoving it open and alerting the bridge of the breech. The voice returning to his head informing him of that event, the Controller ignoring it poking his head into the room looking at the computer banks churning away and to the body laying on the floor beside one. An electronic device attached by cable to one module in one hand and one of their energy pistols clutched in the other and propped beneath what remained of the man’s chin.

Entering the room Sar’Ur’Ion found no other soul, working out the series of events he hand observed and that which must have occurred shielded behind the bulkheads as he dispatched the guarding force. He’d seen the man dart in upon his arrival at first suspecting to alert some other agent but now reaching the conclusion he had been swift enough catching the group before they had truthfully gained entry. The single warrior had attempted to complete his orders while his comrades paid with their life to buy him that time and when it became apparent it could not be he, honorably, removed any way for Sar’Ur’Ion to extract any information from him.

“At last one true warrior.” He grumbled raising a claw-hand to beckon his body guards through, to check and make sure no tampering or damage had been undertaken.

Before the command could be heeded however the buzzing voice returned to his skull but not with the cautious fear of upsetting their Lord Commander but with the raw bone fear, as well as exhilaration, of live combat.

“Sire! We’re under attack! The enemy…the enemy!” The voice yelled over the noise of energy weapons and gunfire.

All which Sar’Ur’Ion needed clenching his fist until the bones cracked, turning and leading his warriors back to the bridge. To feel the thrill of battle once more, the flush of victory and show the soft skinned hatchlings how a true warrior fought the enemy.

And back in the archive room, gently allowing acid carved panel to slide out of place, Jack gazed down at the subordinate he’d slain listening to the sounds of the Viper retreating and mentally sighing none of them had looked up.

[Praeothmin]

Very, very nice...
Aphonous is a badass, that is sure...

Though I don't think he would last too long against Sar'Ur'Ion...

:)

Keep it up!

[Admiral Breetai]

he's like if Im'pec was an eldrich horror he is!!

I second Aphonous for being a bad ass!!

so who's jacks Satanic friend?

Preao if you ever write up Im'pec vs James..they need join Rainbird and have a three on three rumble with Jackson and Sar'Ur'ion and Aphonous

[sonofccn]

Very, very nice

Many, many thank yous.

Aphonous is a badass, that is sure...

Well I spelled it Aphorious but Aphonous is actually way better than my crude scrawling. As to being a badarse considering whom he's an expy of could I do no less? :)

Though I don't think he would last too long against Sar'Ur'Ion...

Funny you should mention that...

so who's jacks Satanic friend?

Well I just thought Jack was being flowerly to describe where Jack the idealist out to save the Republic became Jack I'm staging my subordinate's suicide but your idea has a lot of potential...I like it...

Preao if you ever write up Im'pec vs James..they need join Rainbird and have a three on three rumble with Jackson and Sar'Ur'ion and Aphonous

Two things. First the universe will implode from that saturation of manly awesome. The reverb alone as all six absorb and trade blows will shatter planets and end stars. Two it will completely be worth it and every intelligent being in the cosmos as their sucked into the totality of oblivion will spontaniously develop thumbs and flash them up.

[Admiral Breetai]

so then I horribly misread your work I apologize for a second I thought the good Commodore made allies with the Slenderman

it would be glorious and cosmos destroying but it would be awesome