Fiction:The Mendel Schism

"To avenge what is lost, to see what is base made undone, to defend the galaxy from invaders. This is what it means to be Mendel. Something Barda, and the other High Kings betrayed. They speak of stopping the Xonexi, and do nothing. But today, I will unleash the wrath of our forces on them. Vengeance will be ours! For the Pact!"

- Hand of Retribution

"Such will be a dark chapter in our history, and yet, it shall be one of hope. Today, we put to rest the grudges of old, and we reunite our people, and reclaim our place within the galaxy, refreshed, reforged, and remade. The Reclaimers will not be stopped today, for we are what it truly means to be Mendel."

- Kirta Clett

The Mendel Schism was the era of history that began in with the Ascension of the New King, the Absolute Lord, the Hand of Retribution. Mastering a radical movement of Mendel Clans seeking to bring down the Covenant, he was able to amass followers among all three of the Mendel nations, of Ugandalore, W'alor and Kodalon, giving him the leverage he would need to unseat the High King of each, and make himself the King of All. His rule was not contested however. As the situation in Mirus, Andromeda and beyond slowly came to a head, many Clans became sickened by his actions and declared him a soulless traitor to their ideals, ultimately joining behind, daughter of the Late High King,. Aided by her father's friend, and her mentor, Phase-Hunter, Kirta, while at first not used to the idea, came to embrace her status and proclaimed to lead them to a brighter future, and named her group, The Reclaimers, after a name her Persan allies gave to her movement. Elsewhere, other Mendel groups would break off, with Walgolorian Commanders Kiun and Ryaler, who where originally supposed to position their forces for the eventual attacks on Eldarisia and France, broke off contact, and agreed to act as shields for their former foes, not wishing for the Mendel people to suffer another terrible war, even if they had to betray everything they believed in.

Other Mendel groups began to move, hoping to take advantage of the schism between the Pact and the Reclaimers, such as the Void Worshippers of the, the , and the Proditkar Remnants they lead, and even the extreme, but rarely seen. Kirta, however, saw these groups as potential members, and, with work, could bring all these alien elements of the Pact together, and reunite her scattered people. Not only would this give her the forces she would need, but also allow her to finally unite her people, under one banner and embrace peace once more. But, first, they would have to destroy the Hand, before he lead their people into a war that had no tomorrow, and the possible destruction of everything the Mendel held dear.

Participants

 * /Reclaimers
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership
 * Lagorthenes
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership
 * Lagorthenes
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership
 * - Partial Ownership

Three become One
The streets where dark on, the sun having dipped below the mountains as a lone Ugandalorian marched through the streets, undisturbed by any drones or security forces. sentries and patrollers gave him an odd look, but continued on their path, under strict orders to not bother him. He made his way into the Empyreal Caste's temples and meditation grounds, and moved through without difficulty, the guards standing at attention even as he passed. The warrior moved through the grounds, marched up to the doors of the first temple, and opened the doors, marching through as the cold air billowed behind him, the doors automatically closing behind him. The warrior was dressed in black armor, intricate lines of red gold and runes criss-crossing it's surface. Behind him hung a ragged cape, grey and worn out. He stopped and breathed in deeply, his breath echoing across the near-empty temple, all except the elderly Walgolorian sitting on a hoverchair in the center, a staff in his withered old hands, dressed in ancient, incensed robes and a fine, ceremonial crown. The Ugandalorian snorted quietly as he approached. He did not like this, but he had to do what he needed to destroy his foes. Even if it meant an alliance with this...coward, to put it nicely.


 * Ugandalorian - Hello Ord, none of your pretty little guards to protect you.
 * Ord Acaya - Too risky. They may very well tell Casio what I have planned here. Though I should have them here. I do not even know your name, stranger.
 * Ugandalorian - The Hand of Retribution is all you need to know. Let's get down to business.
 * Ord Acaya - Fine. First, share your information.
 * Hand of Retribution - I have Clans loyal to me on Kodalon and Ugandalore. I have some here on W'alor, but I need you to get me support of the Empyreals. With me in charge of the Pact entirely, I will get what those three fools could not.
 * Ord Acaya - *Grunts* The Council will not support duels being fought, we're a bit higher than that savagery.

The Hand blinked his eyes, closing off public communications, before swearing at the elderly Empyreal, and then reopening his chat channels again. This old bastard was necessary, but, by the Gods, was he an annoyance the Hand rather not deal with, and an arrogant annoyance at that.


 * Hand - Then exile him. I need him out of the way as I deal with Comacar and Clett. Make it happen.
 * Ord Acaya - Can you promise me what I wanted?
 * Hand - Yes, yes. I will grant the you far more leeway in control of the Walgolorian and their vassal races, so you won't have to deal with Casio's morals and other little things that bother you. Be sure it does not conflict with my ultimate power, however. You may find me...dissatisfied with your role, old man.

The old Walgolorian drew himself up on his chair, his face visibly annoyed and slightly fearful.


 * Ord - Please, surely you would not do something so rash?

The Hand clenched his fist. This old weakling was trying to command him, ever so subtly. It was what he hated about these worms. He would've felt it better for his kindred to separate themselves from these Empyreals. But he relaxed himself as he continued.


 * The Hand - Do not try and command my mind. I will be the one in command of the Pact, not you. Know your place, and remove Casio from his own.
 * Ord - How do you propose to rule the Pact? Aren't you aware that the other Clans have trouble with one ruler taking command of all three races with unlimited power!?
 * The Hand - You know us Mendel. They are so worried and angered about the French and the other Xonexi scum that they would not dare raise their hand against me. I promise them vengeance and a restoration of the balance of power, things Barda and his ilk, no matter all teh hot air they've blown, have failed at miserably. The Mendel want revenge. The Mendel want me.
 * Ord - Fine. The other Empyreals will have no issue. Casio as exercised too much controll already. Let him be gotten rid of, so our people will remember who brought unity and balance to this world and society.

The Hand almost felt the need to remind him that such a thing was rather tyrannical, but realized that in truth, he was doing the same thing. He held back a bitter chuckle, as he rubbed his gloved hands together.


 * Hand - Is this it, Old man?
 * Ord Acaya - I have nothing left to speak of.
 * The Hand - Good, remember our deal.

Ord nodded sternly, as the Hand turned and walked out, the doors opening as he disappeared into the night. The Empyreal turned his hoover chair around and headed into the deeper parts of the temple again, his thoughts to the future glories his people would achieve, under his guidance.

Kurlos Saayrun waited in the café for his acquaintance to show up. Would that be the proper word? It was hard to come up with any word for the rather erratic being he was working with, for now. The purple armed Ugandalorian shifted in his seat, as he sipped on his coffee. What was taking that human so long? Probably fornicating with his favored whores again. That, and killing was all he good for.

Kurlos stopped drinking as his...acquaintance walked through the door. Anywhere, he would've drawn much attention. But his status as the High King's errand boy made many used to his...disturbing...features. Indeed, the mostly skinless human looked half-rotted, and yet no one stopped eating or ran to the bathroom, though a few small children stopped and stared for a while. Kurlos rose from his seat.


 * Kurlos - Lord Wilson, welcome.
 *  - Spare me the title, just call him Phase.
 * Kurlos - Fine. Mister...Phase.
 * Phase - Done to business. What's he doing now?
 * Kurlos - Gathering allies. He has several Clans right now, and Ord Acaya's support.
 * Phase - We need to move, then. Barda and the others must know of this.
 * Kurlos - Phase, please. We cannot rush our investigation. Let me and my intelligence agents get what we need and plan this. We will get this crazy bastard. Just let me do my work.
 * Phase - You've warned Barda of this, right?
 * Kurlos - Of course, he and the others are fully aware of every move the fool makes.

Phase nodded slightly, his dried, blood-shot eyes darting around the room for a bit, before he turned to one of the waitresses.


 * Phase - Hey darling, can I get a nice cup of Nuta'gul?
 * Waitress - *Smiles slightly* Sure thing.
 * Kurlos - You going to try and seduce that one next?
 * Phase - Kurlos, please. I don't mix business and pleasure. Unless it's on Wednesdays.
 * Kurlos - *Roles his eyes* Indeed

Phase breathed in deeply, as the two sat for a moment, before the waitress brought him back his cup.


 * Phase - Kurlos, I want to thank you for this. I know it sounded paranoid at first, but this Hand guy cannot be trusted. It's obvious now. You've really done a crazy old human a favor.
 * Kurlos - Part of my duty to the Mendel people, to protect them from all cowards and scum that would threaten us, internally or externally.

Phase rose to leave, as did Kurlos, ready to wave him good-bye, as Phase pulled him into a bear hug. Kurlos' eyes widened in surprise as the show of emotion, before Phase let him go, gave him a small salute, and moved to the exit, as several of the other patrons starting jokingly harassing him, before he left.

Kurlos waited until he was gone, before opening his communicator.


 * Kurlos - My lord. All is well. Barda's imp suspects nothing. All is readied for your ascension.

12 days later

Casio Lwerian'ca stood before the council of W'alor, dressed in full ceremonial armor, as he looked up at Ord Acaya on his hoover throne. Shock still was etched clearly upon his face as he heard the charges brought against him by the Clans and the Empyreals.


 * Casio - Why am I being judged, when everything I have done has been for the benefit of our people? Through the struggles and wars, I have stood ready to protect the things we hold dear. Why do you blame me?
 * Ord Acaya - That is what you may believe, but ultimately, the Council questions some of your actions in light of recent events.
 * Casio - Which actions do you speak of?
 * Ord Acaya - Your inability to stop the Xonexi from gaining dominance over this galaxy.
 * Casio - So you turn me into a scape goat for factors beyond our control..!?
 * Ord Acaya - Try as you might, you have proven unable to do anything of real value against the French and their new galactic order.
 * Casio - We have no choice! What would you ask for, another war!? We must win this be peaceful methods, until our strength returns.
 * Ord - You obviously lack faith in the Abiding Truth. Have you not seen how well our forces performed against both the Loron, the Scelus and the Neraida? Surely, the Wal'va was with us that day to guide us to victory.
 * Casio - And while all where terrifying, you must realize the French are one of the leading powers not only in their home galaxy, not only in this galaxy, but in the entire universe right now. To attack would be suicide!
 * Ord - Have you and the other High Kings not developed more advanced ship designs to bridge this gap? Once it is closed, they will surely fall before our greater prowess. Why do you lack faith in the Pact's abilities?

Casio hesitated slightly, his nails digging into the podium in front of him, his face grow slightly distraught, when an Empyreal rose up from his council seat, clenching his fist.


 * Empyreal - It his lack of faith in our cause! He is a traitor!

The Council broke out into argument and yelling, before Ord Acaya slammed his staff into the floor. The Lloud clang silenced everyone, as he spoke in a clear, commanding tone.


 * Ord Acaya - You are right to consolidate your forces, Clan Lord. But with the Eldarisian and the other Xonexi always a looming threat...
 * Casio - ...We may not have succeeded, but to blame me for the advancements in French technology is an overstep on the Council's part.
 * Ord Acaya - Excuses are a thing for the weak. There are only results, and those that cannot archieve them. While you and your Clan have lead our people with honor and distinction, this failure is too intolerable to bear for the Pact.

Ord Acaya pressed a button on his throne, bringing up a long list of orders and edicts set up in ancient times.


 * Ord - By The 240th Right of W'alor, I, with the power of 3/4s of the Council, declare you and your family exiles. You may gather your things, but you ultimately have no position of power any longer. The Council will work on who to declare your successor.
 * Casio - Whoever it is, you do not yet realize your mistake. This aggression towards the Xonexi will destroy us all. Until we stand on equal ground with them, we cannot risk our peoples' lives!
 * Ord - You are dismissed, Lwerian'ca. Guards, take him away.

One of the Walgolorian guards grabbed him by the arm, only for Casio to tear towards him, bearing his teeth in anger. The guard stepped away, as Casio stepped off and towards the exist, under the withering gaze of the rest of the council. Despite, he kept his head high, not bowing to their insanity.


 * Ord Acaya - Next on our Role of Orders, is the canonization of a new High King to act in his place. While he is not a Walgolorian, his loyalty to our cause shines in the darkest lights...!

Casio merely shook his head as he left. If they so wished to get themselves killed, let them. Though he was banned from his own peoples' territory, there was nothing stopping him from warning the other High Kings. He would have to move as quickly as possible.

The Hand stood on the snowy plains of Kodalon 5, air and snow wiping up around him. He was surrounded by his followers, some Ugandalorians, many Kodalorians, but all ready for what came next. His communicator in his helmet buzzed, before he clicked it on.


 * Hand - What is it, Old man?
 * Ord Acaya - The Clans and the Empyreal Caste have approved of your ascension onto High King. Casio is a powerless exile now. Shall I send assassins to end him?
 * Hand - No. He will be too late to stop me. Kodalon will welcome me as their ruler, once Comacar is dead.
 * Ord Acaya - As you wish. Good luck.
 * The Hand - I do not need luck. I have destiny at my side.

He deactivated his communicator, as he and his followers began marching into Kodalon's capital, Corvladunon, right to the High King's palace. As they moved, the crowds of people passed and separated to let them through, the Hand smiling under his helmet. He could already feel the rush of taking Comacar's head, hear the shouts as his people made him their new King. He licked his lips as he stepped right up to the steps of the palace, and took out his sword. He activated his helm's communication system, adding much volume to his voice.


 * Hand - Comacar! Come out here at once, coward! I am here to take your position among the Kodalorians! I will be High King of Kodalon this day!

The crowds all looked around in surprise, shook and excitement, the various emotions mixing together and buzzing as the people spoke in hushed tones to one another. His warriors, and the warriors of other Clans, eyed each other with wary expressions, neither one moving, only keeping their weapons ready.

Finally, out of the palace lumbered Comacar, his white and blue painted face set in an angered expression.


 * Comacar - What did you say, boy? Mind repeating yourself. Depending one what you said, I might have to cut your tongue from your jaws.
 * The Hand - I am taking what is mine. I am taking your position as High King.
 * Comacar - You are no Kodalorian. You have no right to my throne.
 * The Hand - The Pact laws state that so long as one proves himself worthy, he may take the position. I will prove myself worthy by stepping over your corpse.
 * Comacar - Say your prayers then, boy.

Comacar unsheathed his claymore, the mighty blade glowing in the sun, as he stepped down, the air picking up around them. Comacar's suit of armor clicked and creaked as he stepped forward, putting his helmet on and barring his teeth at the upstart. The two circled each other, each flexing their clawed fingers as they tightly gripped their swords, each waiting for the other to make the first move, not a sound could be heard except the blowing of the wind. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Comacar rushed forward, lifting his blade above his head.

Comacar slashed down, as the Hand merely stepped to the side, before taking a swing at Comacar's neck. The aged Kodalorian lifted his claymore up, smacking the attack out of the way and pressing at the Hand's defenses, stabbing and slashing at the Ugandalorian. The Warrior of Ruination could barely stand up to the High King. It was a simple fact, the Kodalorian was much more physically powerful than the Ugandalorian could ever hope to be. Comacar swung foreword, swiping at the Hand's neck, intending to take his head, only for the Ugandalorian step back and regain his balance. Comacar breathed deeply, his foggy breath coming out in short bursts, as the Ugandalorian warrior sought to regain his composure.


 * The Hand - You fight well, Comacar. If only you would leverage that rage against the Xonexi.
 * Comacar - After the ass-whipping we received? Not happening. Best to build up our strength. You don't understand, boy. You lack the experience.
 * The Hand - Excuses! Weakness and cowardice! We have the power, the warrior spirit that the French lack! We fight horrors that they and their hounds at Eldarisia could only dream of!
 * Comacar - Only a madman would test his strength against them after everything that has transpired!
 * The Hand - Then madness is what we will need to restore our honor!

Comacar's eyes widened within his helmet as the Hand charged again, this time leaping over the Kodalorian, and swiping out with a kick to the Kodalorian's face. The High King barked in anger and back away, as the Ugandalorian landed behind him, and ran to finish him. Comacar turned, narrowly blocking the attack, as the Ugandalorian wnet on the offensive, swiping and sweeping at his foe, his bastard sword elegantly dancing in the light of the high sun. This time, Comacar was the one barely able to keep up, the Hand's great agility and speed hampering the High King. Finally, the Ugandalorian Warrior slashed upward, slashing right through the High King's helmet and cutting through the flesh beneath. Comacar tossed off his helmet, now revealing a scar that went from his left cheek to above his right eye. Blood seeped out, which he whipped away with the back of his gauntlet.


 * Comacar - A good strike, boy, but you cannot win.
 * The Hand - My victory was written in the stars. It was meant to be.
 * Comacar - We will see who the Gods have blessed today.

Comacar gave a grim smile. He knew well enough about how things worked. In the wild, he who got the first strike would win. His eye was now blinded, and this youngster was faster and more agile. If this was the end, he planned to do what his people had always done. Fight till every last drop of blood fell to the ground, be it his enemies, or his own. With a mighty battle cry, Comacar charged forward, raising his claymore up. The Hand charged as well, his sword low as he came in to attack.

As Comacar swung at the Hand's body, the Ugandalorian ducked out of the way, and stabbed the Kodalorian through the chest with his balde, right through his rib cage and out the other end. The Kodalorian fell on his knees, as the Hand removed his sword and looked down at his foe. He suddenly coughed as blood exploded from his chest in a torrent, before subsiding. He held the wound with his left, feeling the warm fluid run in his hand. If that strike had been a few inches deeper...

The Hand turned towards his fallen foe, bending one knee to get to his level, even as his followers gathered around him to attend to his wounds. He raised a hand to stop them.


 * Comacar - Whatever you plan, it will not work...You'll doom us all...boy.
 * The Hand - You fought well, my foe. I will remember you fondly, once I have destroyed the Xonexi and freed Mirus.
 * Comacar - ...It will not work...But I will gloat when we meet again...in death.

The Kodalorian King finally slumped over, dead at last, tears beginning to fall from his eyes. As life left him, the Kodalorian was left grateful for just one thing. The death the Hand was to unleash, at least he would not see it. But, already, the weight of so many souls weighed on him, just before he left this world for the next. One of the Hand's followers approached his body, giving him a good kick.


 * Warrior - For a High King, he didn't fare too well. Definitely not worthy of leading us, the coward.

The Hand marched toward him and grabbed him by the throat, bring his helmeted face inches from the Warrior's own.


 * The Hand - Comacar was a noble soul, worthy of respect! I will not see you tarnish his name with your actions!

He released the warrior, and turned to the rest of his troops.


 * The Hand - Give him a proper funeral, and see to it his family is treated with respect. Block all communications, and see to it that my transport is ready for Ugandalore.

He turned and made his way to the High King's palace, holding his chest, as he felt a bitter smile cross his lips under his helmet. Two down. There was only one left to deal with, before he could begin his destruction in earnest. But, as he moved to the palace, he was not aware of the very human eyes watching him from the shadows.

So Falls the Last Piece
Phase landed near the capital of Ugandalore, Koridelable, getting out of his ship to meet with Kurlos. The cybernetic human ran up the Ugandalorian, visibly angered.


 * Phase - The Hand of Retribution is starting his rampage! Comacar and Casio have already fallen to him and his followers. I thought your informants said they wouldn't be starting ofr many more months?
 * Kurlos - They would be saying that, except their dead now.

Phase recoiled a bit, clenching his teeth. He took out his communicator, and starting pressing Barda's number. He did not see Kurlos slowly lift his hand to wrist, and press a button, jamming all communication. Phase tried several times to raise Barda, but could get nothing. Cursing, he jammed it back in one of his compartments.


 * Phase - Come on, we have warn Bardy.

Kurlos put on his helmet and followed Phase as he began running towards the Ugandalorian palace. Blinking on a secure channel, he contact his master.


 * Kurlos - My Lord. Phase-Hunter is on his way to the High King to warn him. What are your orders.
 * The Hand - Activate your comrades. Slow him down so I can arrive in time. The False King's Imp will not ruin all I have worked to accomplish. Barda must not have time to prepare. This must all happen in one fell swoop.
 * Kurlos - Yes, M'lord.

Kurlos falling slightly behind Phase, pressed several buttons on his gauntlet, sending out a remote signal. The Hand had seen to everything. Kurlos wasn't sure how, but he just did. They continued on into the crowded market place, Phase forging ahead, as Kurlos looked out to the tops of the buildings, where White-armored Ugandalorian began to jet pack in, landing on several buildings, and watching the two like vultures. Kurlos activated his helmet's transcom systems.


 * Kurlos - Mendel Empath Intelligence here! Clear out at once!

The crowd asked no questions or made any fuss. Seeing Phase-Hunter, the warrior who had gained the title "The High King's fury personified", and an agent of the Empath Organization, was a telling sign that this was an important mission, and they would be wise not to get in the way.


 * Phase - That helps a lot, thanks Kurlos.

The Warrior said nothing, merely coming to a stop, pulling out his rifle, and taking aim behind Phase's head, before opening fire. The Human warrior fell to the ground, rolled, and came right back, the shot having pierced to the other side of his skull. As he turned to face Kurlos, he stuck two fingers in the rapidly closing hole in his head.


 * Phase - You know, I planned to use that brain of mine sooner or later. Thanks Kurlos.

Phase took out two of his pistols and aimed one at Kurlos, while raising another in the air, anger quite visible in his eyes.


 * Phase - Now, before I personally reach into your throat and rip out your skeleton, tell, why did you just shot me.
 * Kurlos - Sorry Phase, part of the job. Gotta protect our people from these Xonexi, not that you would much care.
 * Phase - What does that mean!?
 * Kurlos - Your from the same planet as the French. Unlike our human kindred, that makes you a little biased.
 * Phase - That's not how human nationality works at all. Man are you uneducated. When I blows your own brains, it won't help any though.
 * Kurlos - *Chuckles* Good luck then.

The nine white figures reacted, dropping down and landing in a circle around Phase, cratering the ground. Each of them wore intricate, heavy white armor, decorated with black tron-like lines, and red markings across the wrist guards, thigh armor, chest and helmet.


 * Kurlos - The Hand gets here in 4 minutes. Surely, you can't best us all?
 * Phase - *smiles* Darling, you don't know shit about me, do you?

The Ugandalorian each unsheathed their swords in one motion, circling around him. Phase smiled as he watched them. Then, he decided for a bit of a challenge. Twirling his guns, he put them back in his holsters, and cracked his knuckles.


 * Phase - Whichever asshole wants to die first, step forward!

Not waiting for them, Phase leapt over Kurlos, landed behind and slammed a bunch into the first one's head, puncturing the helmet and through the skull, right into his brain. He normally would've held back just a bit, but these loons wanted to get everyone killed, they could start by being the first ones to go in the ground. He ripped his fist out, and kicked the Ugandalorian over. The next two jumped at him, one slashing at his neck, and nicking the vein in his neck. Blood spurted out, but Phase did not stop, activating the armor in his left wrist, and blocking the come around strike, and punching the Second one in the gut several times, before spinning and kicking the warrior in the side of the head, sending him to the ground with an audible crack. The next one stabbed him right in the stomach as he turned, Phase screamed in agony.


 * Phase - Oh no! I've been gutted! It's not like I can just regenerate. Oh wait!

Phase grabbed the blade in his left hand, before bring his right hand and smashing the sword's mid section with a punch, denting it, before shattering it in to. As he brought his fist around, he straighten it into a knife hand strike and brought it back around, swinging into the third Warrior's neck and slashing straight through, taking his head clean off. He rolled out of the way as a fourth one leapt over and swung downward at him, before widening his gut wound a bit and ripping the blade out, before the flesh resealed itself. As the Fourth Warrior came back around, Phase grabbed him by the neck, and slammed the shard right into his skull, piercing it through the other side. As he fell to the ground, Phase turned to the other. As the fifth one came forward slashing at him, he ducked and rolled aside from each role, grabbing the Fourth Warrior's blade, and using it to block three more strikes, before slashing the Warrior right in half.

Phase tossed aside the Claymore, looking at the remaining three of the white-armored warriors. Phase smiled as they seemed to hesitant for a second, before two ran toward him. Flexing his augmented hands, he tore temporal space apart, leapt in and instantly tore his way out behind the sixth one, who instantly whirled around to attack him, before he grabbed him by the head and throw him back into the dimension Phase had just popped out of, as it closed behind him. A little solitary confinement would do that traitor some good. Though Phase was surprised by how alert these warriors seemed. When he teleported, he usually made no sound at.


 * Phase - *muttering* The Hand must have hired to some very good warriors that could match me as they do. Or try at least try and match me.

Phase grabbed the Seventh one by the head, yanked him down, and slammed a fist into his throat, before dropping him like a sack of potatoes. The next one came at him, only for him to slam a back fist into the back of his head, and begin pummeling him with various hooks and crosses, denting and breaking the armor in several areas, before kicking him into a wall. Phase turned to deal with the last one and Kurlos, before something flickered in the corner of his eye. He turned, just in time to get stabbed right through the head by the Sixth Warrior, the one he had teleported away. Phase's eyes widened in shock as he forcibly tore the blade out of his skull.


 * Phase - Motherfucker, how did you do that?

The Warrior in question merely released a guttural, half growl, half groan, and charged at him again. Phase side stepped the stab, and slammed a right hook into his foes' head, shattering the helmet and sending the foe straight to the ground. The Ninth one jumped, shimmered briefly, and vanished, before Phase heard a slight pop behind him, and saw the same warrior coming in behind him. There was no mistaking it. That was the same teleportation tech he had. Wasting no time, he grabbed the Sixth Warrior's sword, placed it on his foot, perfectly balanced, before grabbing his foe with his other hand, and slamming him, chest first, straight through sword, as he dropped both to the ground. Phase cracked his neck a bit.


 * Phase - Alright Kurlos, I still got 2 minutes, plenty of time to kick your ass and get to Bardy.
 * Kurlos - *Laughing* Are you sure.
 * Phase - Umm, yeah. All I gotta do is punch your stupid fucking head, maybe once. Twice, 100 times at most, then get to Barda.
 * Kurlos - Look behind you, and around you.

Phase did so, his eyes widening in shock as he saw the being slowly snapping and regenerating their wounds, before raising again.


 * Kurlos - Did you really think the Hand wasn't going to count on you getting in the way?
 * Phase - What did you do to these men?
 * Kurlos - Nothing you haven't seen before.

Phase looked around, as they rose up again, and he got a good look at the Sixth Warrior's face, now that his helmet was shattered. The skin looked melted off, the muscle and remaining tissue laced with cybernetics, leaving the being looking neither organic nor metal, and just...off.


 * Kurlos - Do you really have enough time now?
 * Phase - Yes, because, if there's one thing I've learned from watching British comedy, I still have one last move up my sleeve. One you never counted one.
 * Kurlos - What is that?

Phase leapt up, opened up his dimensional teleporter, and landed behind Kurlos. The Ugandalorian turned, expecting him to attack, but instead the human was running toward the palace.


 * Phase - I can still run away!
 * Kurlos - *Bearing his teeth* Phase-Hunter, you coward!

Phase ignored him, as the Nine resurrected warrior pursued, running as fast as he could. He was on burrowed time. He had to warn Barda, get him off planet, and prepare the Ugandalorian for a civil war. If he didn't, then the bloodshed of in-fighting wouldn't compare at all to what the Hand had planed. Not one bit.

The transport touched off right in front of the Plaza that lead to the High King's palace. The Hand rose from his seat, flanked by four of his warriors, these ones normal base-line Ugandalorians, armed with Combat rifles.


 * The Hand - Soon, my warriors, we will begin the process that will lead to our vengeance. Prepare yourselves.

The Hand stepped out, and marched right up to the gates of the palace, where the Eran Guard marched up to stop him.


 * Eran Guardsmen - Whatever business you want, take it elsewhere. You are trespassing.
 * The Hand - Step aside. I am here to fight your King, and take his mantle.
 * Eran Guardsmen - If you wish to fight him, you must make the announcement, not show up here like a child making a show.
 * Barda Clett - No need Guardsmen. I thought something was up. Now I see who this little troublemaker is.
 * The Hand - You see only your death, false king.

Barda gave his two-handed axe a cinematic twirl, before opening the gates and stepping forward into the plaza. His red armor gleamed in the sunlight, as he rolled his shoulders, the robes adorning them rising just a bit with each role, before he gripped the axe in both hands.


 * Barda - Why do you seek me in battle?
 * Hand - I will become High King. And take from the Xonexi what they how us. Something a coward like you could only dream of.
 * Barda Clet - Surely, you jest? There is no way this could work.
 * The Hand - What do I expect from a coward but to let our honor remain tarnished by these invaders.
 * Barda - Then, by all means, show me what passes for honor, cur.

The Hand charged, slashing at Barda several times, who expertly blocked each strike. He slammed the blunt end of his axe into the Hand's mid section, before slashing at his chest. The Hand narrowly avoided the strike, before falling back. Barda slowly approached, clicking his teeth.


 * Barda - Is that all?
 * Hand - Hardly.

The Hand charged forward, stabbing repeatedly at Barda's chest and midsection, Barda Blocking each blow, before Barda lifted his axe and tried to cleave the Hand right in half. The usurper rolled backward and out of the way, and came back up, as Barda charged after him, each striking and slashing at one another as the other blocked. This went on for several minutes, before Barda blocked The Hand's blade with the mid-section of his axe, the two struggling for a moment, before Barda kicked away his rival. The Hand growled in anger and regained his balance, before repositioning himself into a more defensive stance. Barda saw the stance change, and moved in on his foe.

The Hand reacted immediately, springing forward and swiping at Barda's leg. The High King raised his leg up and kicked The Hand in the face, before dropping his foot back down and slashing at his chest. The Hand backed away, holding his wound as blood seeped out. Barda pressed his advantage, cutting at his foe many times, the Hand blocking each strike, before falling stabbing Barda through the chest, the armor taking the brunt of the injury. The two parted, each holding their wounds, before resuming their combat stance.


 * The Hand - Your not dying yet, are you?
 * Barda - No, how about you.

The Hand shook his head, as both gave a grim smile beneath their helmets. This battle was going to take a while.

The streets of Koridelble where in chaos as Phase ran through the streets, dodging rifle fire from Kurlos, as those...things followed behind him. Phase somewhat regretted the anarchy he was unintentionally causing, and knew that he might get there late to the party. Oh well, Barda knew him well enough to know that Phase, no matter how late, ultimately always got what he needed to get done, done.

He narrowly dodged another shot taken at him from Kurlos, as two of these Unnaturals teleported practically on top of him, trying to crush him down. The first fight felt as though they where toying with him, trying to get a read on his abilities. Now they seemed quite willing to cut lose and match him pound-for-pound. What disturbed him most of all, was the lack of any personality or emotion. They just seemed...blank. Was this the Hand's doing, or had the pain been so much, that, like Phase, they had been driven insane, but instead of becoming out-going and loud-mouthed, had retreated inside themselves to hide from the pain.

Phase pushed such thoughts from his mind. Whatever the truth was, he wasn't sure which one bothered him more. He could deal with that all once he got to Barda. He rolled out of the way as they both slammed into the ground and slammed their blades into the earth, the ground shattering as they landed. Phase breathed in deeply as he got up running again. This was going to be a rough situation.

Barda gripped the handle of his axe tight, breathing in as deep as he could, readying himself for the next strike. This warrior seemed blessed with phenomenal strength. No matter how hard Barda struck at him, the Hand seemed to be able to rise again, ready to fight once more. The High King knew what he saw, for he had experienced it himself when he was a younger warrior. The drive, the will to tear everything in front of him apart, to see to it nothing opposed him. Barda had long ago released such negative emotions, but this warrior, it appeared, had not. He straightened himself, as he readied his weapon for battle. This was not getting easier. Barda was getting to old for this.

The Hand stood, after a struggle, blood dripping from his knee. Barda was surprised the limb was still attached, much less that he could walk on it. The eager warrior made a deep growling sound.


 * The Hand - No matter what it takes, I'll kill you.
 * Barda - Many have tried that, be it as a bounty hunter, warrior, or High King. None of them could take my soul from my body.
 * Hand - More talk. That is all you false High Kings are good for. Yet nothing changes!

The mysterious warrior charged again, slamming his blade several times against Barda's axe, each strike blocked with as skill as the warrior had brutality. Barda side stepped his next strike, slammed a side-kick into his opponent's face, and slammed the blunt end of his Axe's staff into the chest of his foe, leaving a large crater that resembled a bullet hole. The Hand stumbled back, coughing and gasping, his breath now haggard and difficult. The Hand straightened himself instead of giving up. He had people to avenge! Lost families, fallen warriors, dishonored clans. He would not stop, not until Barda was dead. Or, at the rate they where going, they would both fall.

The two continued their battle, each narrowly dodging the strike of the other and slashing and cutting at one another. The deep runes in The Hand's armor had turned from golden, to a bright red from his and Barda's blood, while Barda's own ceremonial robes where now torn to pieces and in tatters. The two weapons sparked as they hit each other, blocking and striking off one another as the sun began to set.

Phase leapt over another building, the area where he landed cracking as though hit by meteors, before he kept on running. He could hear the sounds of battle not far. He would just have to get a little further. Just a bit more, and he would be able to do what he had to do. He flipped over the building, and landed in the High King's courtyard, and there they where, Barda and old crazy man himself. Both where worse for wear, but Barda seemed to have the upper hand now. Phase began to approach getting out both his pistols, before Barda kicked the Hand to the ground, and made a motion for Phase to stop.


 * Barda - Wilson, it is good to see you again, but I have this, brother. Let me finish this fight.
 * Phase - I don't know, you might be too old to take him, Bardy.

Barda said nothing only giving him a affirmative gesture, nodding. Nothing more needed to be said. He had this. Phase could simply watch and see the end through. Barda approached the downed warrior, gripping his axe tightly.


 * Barda - You have fought well, today. You are truly passionate in your goals. But you have failed.
 * The Hand - I hardly think so. I've already won, in a sense.
 * Barda - What do you mean?
 * Hand - Have you contact your fellow king, Comacar? About Casio?
 * Barda - *angered* What did you do?
 * Hand - Cleared away the trash that stood in the way of our peoples' destiny.

Barda gave a loud war cry as he lifted his axe and brought it down on the Hand. The younger warrior rolled out of the way, just in time, and slammed a low kick into Barda's gut, sending him backward, before standing back up, sword in hand. Barda merely activated his Power Claws, the three short blades popping out of his wrist gauntlets, as he meet the Hand in battle once more. He struck hard, hitting at him over and over again, but the Hand now had the advantage. Each strike was expertly blocked, and countered, Barda now ragged from the long fighting. Still, he did not stop, finding strength again to lift his power claws once more and fight on. And each time, The Hand's strikes grew deeper and deeper. Finally, he slammed the flat of his blade into Barda's helmet, cracking it.

The Older warrior merely tossed it aside, and stood ready once more, blood running down his face, his face pale and eyes distant. The Hand twirled his blade a bit, flicking the blood of it, as he circled Barda. Barda breathed in deeply as he calmed himself. He had defeated many foes. This would be no different. As always, his family was at stack. He had to protect them at all costs. Giving one last cry to the heavens, Barda charged in, claws raised and ready to strike, as The Hand lifted his blade and stabbed it into Barda's chest. The High King coughed up blood, weakly raising his arm and striking the Hand's shoulder, but barely able to pierce the armor.

Phase did not react at first, his mouth agape from shock. Barda's personal guard shouted in horror and sadness, trying to approach their beloved ruler, as the Hand's troops moved to block them. The human warrior began shaking slightly, as his fists clenched. He reached into his sheaths, and pulled out his own swords. With a primal shout, Phase leapt at the Hand, hitting at his foe with all his strength. The Hand turned and blocked both swords, before phase back flipped away, and came at the Ugandalorian again, striking at him with all his strength.

Yet the Hand may have been tired, but he was not going to let his victory vanish because of Barda's little imp. He side stepped Phase's next right strike, blocked the left, and slashed Phase through the gut. Warm blood spilled out, as several of his organs where lacerated, but Phase did not care, turning to slash the Hand across the helmet. and slashing his chest. The Ugandalorian backed up slightly, regained his stance, and came at Phase again, blocking all of his strikes. Phase's strength was far more then even his alien kindred, but the Hand seemed to be able to handle the grieving human with little effort.

All the while, Phase said nothing, only shouting in rage and grieve as he tried his hardest to rip the Hand from this world. He swung his blades forward, intent on taking the Hand's head, before the Ugandalorian ducked under, came around, and hit Phase in the side of head with his sword's pummel, cratering his skull. The super-human warrior staggered, and attempted to turn as The Hand swung his blade upwards, slashing a clear line right down Phase's middle, from above the groin to his skull. Phase dropped his blades in shock, as blood sprayed out.

He knelt on the ground, gasping and breathing hard. He looked over at Barda, who seemed close to death now, his body now twitching. Tears running down his eyes, Phase stood once more, clenching his fists, and coming at the Hand again, landing punches all across the Warrior's armor and cracking and cratering it in various spots. The Hand responded to this onslaught by slashing Phase across the throat with his sword, bringing the mad human down. Before Phase could get up again, The Hand motioned for his two followers to grab him and old him down. Two Kodalorians answered, holding his arms against their impressive bulk, but still having trouble containing his enraged form.


 * The Hand - Now wait, Phase-Hunter. I know you are a man of carnal pleasures. If you are willing to stand by my side, and help me with these French, I can guarantee you women and drugs and other things to slick your desires. What say you?
 * Phase - You killed my brother! My only friend, and now you're trying to bribe me!? I would rather die!

Tears raced down Phase's checks as he glared at The Hand, still struggling. The Ugandalorian merely regarded him, head slightly turned to the side, as though Phase was some sort of animal to be brought to heel. Then, he calmly put away his sword, and brought out a ceremonial Bonding Knife, commonly used by the Mendel for various purposes.


 * The Hand - The fact Barda used such a creature as you, and considered you his friend, shows just how twisted and too far gone his rulership was. Your existence will be an eternal shame to his proud family, and I will remind you of that fact.

He approached Phase, pressing the cold metal into his chest, as he brought it slowly up, at a slight curve. Phase grunted in annoyance. He had had worse wounds in his life. What was he trying to do? The Hand continued his action, until a curved rune was carved into Phase's chest. The human's brow furrowed as he looked at it.


 * The Hand - The Mark of Shame, brought onto those who cannot control themselves. You, fornicator, receive this mark, and may it be a reminder of the shame you have brought to my people with your existence. Your existence is not totally lost however. Swear allegiance to me, use that skill against our true enemies, and you may yet redeem yourself.
 * Phase - I'd rather tear my own eye out!
 * The Hand - That can be arranged.

The Ugandalorian pressed his knife against the check under Phase's left eye, and stabbed inward, then upward, severing the eye from the rest of Phase' head. The human warrior cried out in pain and anger, shaking his head as the pain overwhelmed him. It had been quite awhile since he had last had a wound like that. With one last burst of strength, he tore himself free, and ran past the Hand, grabbing his swords and kneeling by Barda.


 * Phase - We're getting you outta here, Bardy. We'll fix you, get you the machines like what I have, essence magic, something.
 * Barda - *weakly* Phase...Wilson. There is nothing left....for me. I'll be departing for the Oversoul soon.

Phase's lip quivered as he heard this, as he lowered his head and the tears began to flow once more.


 * Barda - I have no regrets. You have been a good friend. I just need...one...one more thing. Protect...my kids, Kirta, Takanius...They need their uncle.
 * Phase - I'll do my best.
 * Barda - And...and tell Forbila...Fare...well.

He smiled for a brief moment, before the light left his eyes. Several of his honor guard kneelt in reverence to their fallen lord, as Phase cradled his head. Before the sun disappeared behind the highlands and hills of Ugandalore, a shaft of light shined upon Barda, even as the light retreated, it's brilliance moving across his face, until it disappeared. For Phase, he would've wanted to burry his long time brother and friend. But now, he had not time. Releasing his friend, he ran off, evading the Hand's Warriors, and running off toward his ship.

One of the Hand's warriors approached.


 * Warrior - Should we pursue?
 * The Hand - What can he do? Find Barda's wife. She is just as dangerous as he is. Then, prepare for my ascension. Soon, vengeance will be ours.

The Warrior nodded, as The Hand stood over his defeated foe. Now, he could truly bring back the honor his people had lost. And France and their ilk would pay in full soon enough. Despite the feeling of vindication among his followers, many of the Mendel people, in the days to come, would feel perturbed by this stranger. While their reign was marred by the Xonexi defeat, Barda, Comacar and Casio had served honorably, and many felt deserved more respect then to be blamed. But, few raised their voices against the Hand. Who would question someone who had defeated the strongest Ugandalorian in battle?

No one was certain what became of Barda's wife, nor what happened to Phase-Hunter. They both simply vanished, and no one seemed able to track them down.

A Message to Tyris Major
It was a calm afternoon on Ascon, the homeworld of the Volver Empire. The air was quite warm as spring had just arrived. The swamps were defrosting and children were out in the courtyards playing their games. King Brygon and his lover, Zataura Ada, were meditating in an attempt to attain a deeper understanding of their connection to the Void. Grand Advisor Kyaan Desaa, a normally calm individual, rushed through the halls of Brygon's grand palace. Two Volver Paladins who were guarding King Brygon's private chambers stopped Kyaan from entering the room.


 * Paladin - Halt. The Valishar (King) wishes not to be disturbed.
 * Kyaan - Out of my way Paladin. I have extremely important information for him!
 * Paladin - The Valishar gave us direct orders to prevent anyone from entering his chambers. That would include you, Alor (Lord) Desaa.
 * Kyaan - You forget that only Brygon is allowed to tell me where I can and can't go within our empire. I would suggest you both move out of my way before I have your entire clan dishonored.

The Paladins both look at each other with concern. They both had worked extremely hard to be appointed to the Valishar's royal guard and did no want to lose their important status. They both stepped to the side and allowed Kyaan to march into Brygon's room. Once inside, Brygon and Zataura both sighed and left their meditative states.

Brygon - The Communications room? Who would be calling us now?
 * Brygon - Kyaan, what brings you by?
 * Zataura - Whatever it is, it had better be pretty damn good. We were in the middle of a meditation session.
 * Kyaan - Brygon, we need you in the communications room.
 * Kyaan - I'm not sure who the man is, but he sounded quite threatening. He wished to speak with you directly.
 * Brygon - Threatening huh? Well if that's the case I suppose I should accept his request. Perhaps we can avoid another conflict if we settle this diplomatically.

Kyaan simply nodded and the two friends walked down the hall to the communications room. Zataura, while she initially cared little for galactic politics, decided to follow them.

The comms room had been upgraded recently with more advanced communications systems, more staff, and the size of the room had even been increased. Brygon walked over to the main panel and opened communications. A holographic projection of The Hand appeared before him.

Brygon was already upset with the man who was being projected before him. He wanted to threaten him, but he remembered Noruuk's teachings and calmed himself. Brygon simply frowned behind his helmet, allowing his sudden rise of anger to pass.
 * The Hand - So, you are Brygon correct?
 * Kyaan - Valishar Brygon.
 * The Hand - I am speaking to your master. You ought to really teach your servants how to hold their tongues....Valishar Brygon.

Will continue soon - Glynn

King of Ashes
The fleet of drifted through distant, unclaimed territory of Mirus, looking for the next scavenged wreck or tribal world that would sustain them for a few more weeks. After the destruction of the Blood Brotherhood and the subsequent civil war, during which he had finally slain the creature called Glacier and taken control of his meager forces, he and his new army had found themselves adrift with little supplies or food. By the time the battle was over, most of the Brotherhood was dead or shattered. All Fenric gained by crushing Glacier's forces were some Patrollers, the Draconian Remnants, a few pirates and gangsters, and the smashed remains of the Simnu Socialist Ascension and the Viterva Khmara. The Regyaryen Anarchate had bent the knee as well, but they were so weakened they barely made a difference. Sure, he had gained a few million warriors, but he had no way to feed or equip them.

In the bowels of one of their ships, they had multiple Blood Brotherhood prisoners they believed may be of some use. Pollimer Ghurka the angry youth desperate to claim back his empire, Pang Vore the Pseudopath twice-rebel, Morg the man with too many affiliations to count, and Lime the green Changeling mercenary. All the other prisoners had been executed and butchered for food. The importance of those four, the only Brotherhood survivors who had not bent the knee or been executed, was the only thing keeping them breathing. For how long their positions would ensure their survival remained to be seen.

At Fenric's side were two of his lieutenants, the Bonerider, a stocky Jammat raider who carried a huge scythe, and Grenka the Flathead, a Muthanna who held a spear with multiple heads stuck to it. These were his closest compadres now, dirty, savage tribals from the Red Veil. But Fenric would make do. He always made do with whatever he had. He knew that he would be wandering the galaxy for only so long before an opportunity presented itself. As it soon would.

Trevagr Kardvark, younger sister of Hadrian Kardvark, came running onto the ship's bridge. Fenric turned, raising an eyebrow in a small gesture of mild interest. He expected more bad news. He was surprised.


 * Fenric - You return. Anybody in the port willing to join us?
 * Trevagr - Lord Fenric! We just received word from a Barrio pirate! Barda Clett is dead! Some guy calling himself the Hand of Retribution killed him and took over!
 * Fenric - You believe him?
 * Trevagr - His report was confirmed. Barda is indeed perished.
 * Fenric - He was my brother once, before all this. May his soul rest eternal. But this is good news. We shall seek out this Hand of Retribution and join his army.
 * Bonerider - But Lord Fenric, this Hand seems to think he is the ruler of all Ugandalore. You are the true ruler of the Ugandalorians, how will your goals coincide?
 * Fenric - The Hand will go on believing that he is the Mendel's absolute ruler, until I decide it is time to inform him otherwise. Look at us. We do not have a force large enough to take the Pact by force. Only by uniting will we prevail.
 * Trevagr - Will this Hand accept our allegiance?
 * Fenric - ...Probably not. We are too small and weak to be of much use. We will need to bolster our forces.
 * Trevagr - But how will we grow our forces? We are low on supplies and so far few will join us.
 * Fenric - Power in the more "civilized" galactic community is gained through money. Gold runs all.
 * Trevagr - We have been raiding for almost a year now. We have not gained much. Perhaps we should hit a bank.
 * Bonerider - Bank? What is a bank?
 * Trevagr - A place where people keep lots of money.
 * Bonerider - Like the Cthulhu Bank Accord?
 * Trevagr - The what?
 * Fenric - A banking organization we fought in the Red Veil War. Bonerider, are you saying we should raid the CBA? Nobody has done that and survived.
 * Bonerider - No, we should ask them for money.
 * Tevagr - If you fought them, what makes you think they will give us money?
 * Fenric - The Cthulhu Bank Accord cares about nothing but profit. If they see us as a good investment, they will give us all we need.
 * Trevagr - And if they do not?
 * Fenric - Then we will be lucky to leave with our lives.

But Fenric knew he had little other option. If he waited for another source of funds, this opportunity would slip him by. It was now or never for Fenric Vermillion. He turned to the pilot.


 * Fenric - Set a course for the Cthulhu Bank Accord's main vault. Today we begin our ascension!

The soldiers, mercenaries, and raiders on deck all roared and pumped their weapons in the air. For now, morale was up again. But for how long? If the CBA failed him, Fenric had no idea what he would do. Which is why he could not allow them to fail. One way or another, he had to leave with their money.

A small shuttle docked with a ship belonging to the Cthulhu Bank Accord. It was a huge, circular, pristine ship loaded to the brim with guards and workers. When the shuttle landed, a dozen customs officials surrounded the ship to greet the passengers. When Fenric, the Bonerider, and Trevagr stepped out, they backed off in revulsion. A traitor, a tribal, and a girl who looked like she could rape a Vanara and tell the tale were not exactly welcome guests at a bank, even one that disappeared overdue clients.

But the trio was allowed to pass, and they soon found themselves in a lavishly-decorated waiting room. Much time passed. Since clients were allowed to carry certain kinds of weapons on board (it helped with security), the Bonerider was allowed to keep his scythe, and Fenric kept a firm grip on the hilt of the sword he had taken from Glacier, but Trevagr's pistols had been confiscated, and Fenric himself had been forced to strip many of his armaments as well. Trevagr flopped onto a couch and picked up a business magazine, but could not read it and only looked at the pictures. Fenric paced about, hand on his sword. The Bonerider was in awe at the place; he had never seen such wealth.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, a skinny bald creature with pale skin and tentacles for a mouth entered the room, accompanied by a human and a Tugian, and two armored guards of unidentified race. The bank presidente, he was. He sat at an oiled wooden table with the Tugian and the human, and motioned for the three guests to sit. They did.


 * Banker - Fenric Vermillion, the shame of Ugandalore.
 * Trevagr - Watch your tongue, you, or I-
 * Fenric - Trevagr. Do not chastise the man for speaking truth.
 * Banker - I see the stories about you are true. Some of them at least.
 * Trevagr - Man, you got something to say, say it.
 * Tugian - To be quite blunt, we want to know what you are doing here. We know you fought our private security forces in the Red Veil War. Your men were responsible for the destruction of our central computer.
 * Fenric - The past is the past, sirs. I was a soldier following orders. Now, I have other matters.
 * Human - Speak your mind, friend, but please be brief.
 * Fenric - Fine. I want to borrow money.
 * Banker - Excuse me?
 * Trevagr - You heard the man, fool. We want money. So give us the forms we gotta sign, fork over our dough, and we will be out of your hair.
 * Tugian - Lord Fenric, your girl servant needs to understand, we-
 * Trevagr - The fuck you call me?!
 * Fenric - Sit. My apologies, sirs, she is unaccustomed to common courtesy. I know money lending is not that simple. I only ask-
 * Human - What makes you think we would loan you of all people money? We know your current situation. You are broke. You could never repay it.
 * Fenric - I can, and I will, when I am lord of Ugandalore.
 * Banker - I hate to break it to you, sir, but Ugandalore already has a lord. The Hand of Retribution.
 * Fenric - I know. I mean to join him. Then I will take his position when the time comes.
 * Turian - Your plan is folly.
 * Fenric - Not at all, we have-
 * Banker - You have nothing. You will never pay us back, and you will never become King of the Ugandals.
 * Fenric - I will.
 * Trevagr - ENOUGH!

Trevagr jumped from her seat, pulled something out of the pack she carried, and threw it down onto the table. The bankers gasped. It was Glacier's head. It had been partially preserved, but skin was still peeling off, and there was still ragged flesh at the neck stump where Fenric had chopped it off. Trevagr pointed to it.


 * Trevagr - That is the head of Glacier. You know who Glacier is, right? He fucked up your company's shares in the Red Veil. Well, he fucked with King Fenric too, and Fenric took his head. With his own sword. Show them, boss.

Fenric drew Glacier's sword and activated it. The blade was pure Plaganium, making it hard and flexible, even more so than Alphorium. An ultrasonic generator caused the blade to vibrate rapidly, and an electrical current ran up and down the blade. The bankers' eyes were wide. They looked at the sword, then at Glacier's head.


 * Banker - That is the ice monster's sword.
 * Tugian - So it is true. The Frozen Blade is dead.
 * Fenric - He is. I have his men, and his sword. I am the master of all that is left of the Brotherhood. It may not be much, but it is enough to take what is rightfully mine. When my ancestors married into the Clett clan, the crown should have passed down my line. But it went past us and past us, until it went to that fuck Barda! He got what was coming to him, and now is my chance. Now, I need money, for sellswords, for supplies, for ships. You can either help me, or stay the the fuck out of my way.
 * Banker - Perhaps. You did rid us of a major problem... Very well, we will give you a hundred trillion in gold and platinum coin. More universally accepted than Sporebucks. But I warn you, Lord Fenric. Win or lose, you will pay it in full.
 * Fenric - My word is my word.
 * Tugian - Before you leave, sir, may I give you a bit of advice? If you are looking to hire sellswords and mercenaries, our own Force Seventeen has proven very reliable in the past.
 * Fenric - You used them in the Red Veil War. Mostly Cradosans and Kramalin, right?
 * Tugian - You are correct. They will serve you well.
 * Fenric - Thank you, sirs. I will not disappoint.

The bankers made no reply, just hit a button for a secretary to bring in the next petitioners.

On the way back to the ship, Fenric decided to hire Force Seventeen. Though they were sellswords, he figured that they would prove more reliable than the pirates and gangsters working for him now. They made their way to the docks in the lower decks of the ship, where all the cutthroats and tough figures hung out, looking for employment. Fenric found the leader of Force Seventeen, who he expected to be a Cradosan surrounded by whores or a fat Kramalin stuffing his face with food. Instead, he found a scarred Duetzalanian with light brown skin sitting ina businesslike fashion, surrounded by his less civilized Cradosan and Kramalin counterparts. Fenric walked up to him.


 * Fenric - Leader of Force Seventeen?
 * ??? - I am.
 * Fenric - I wish to hire you.
 * ??? - Job?
 * Fenric - What do you care?
 * ??? - I do not. You got money? Because you really do not look like the type of-

Fenric tossed a coinskin onto the table. The Duetzalanian lifted a skeletal finger to it and checked to see what it contained. He pulled out a fistful of platinum coins, examined them for authenticity, and smiled.


 * ??? - Alright. We are yours.

He stood up and shook Fenric's hand.


 * ??? - They call me the Brown Bastard, by the way.
 * Fenric - Fenric Vermillion.
 * Bastard - No shit? You the guy who did Glacier?
 * Fenric - Your bosses upstairs had no idea. How do you know?
 * Bastard - Ah, they are all just moneygrubbing assholes. Just because we know something does not mean we have to tell them.
 * Fenric - That is not how things work with me. Got it?
 * Bastard - Sure. So, what exactly do you need us for? You smashed the Brotherhood, right?
 * Fenric - The Brotherhood is gone. My interest lies in Ugandalore.
 * Bastard - Oh...
 * Fenric - Problem with that?
 * Bastard - Not at all. Hey, Shats, Covrig, get in here!

Two figures got up from behind the piles of garbage and loot where the mercenaries made their homes. One was a very fat and short piglike fellow with dripping yellow tusks. The other was a tall, masked Duetzalanian covered in scars.


 * Bastard - Lord Fenric, may I present Covrig and the Shattered Princeling, members of the Hyperspace Cartel. Well, Covrig is, Shats here just works with them. He wants to become the leader of the Zarbania Powers.
 * Shattered Princeling - They tortured me for not believing in Gridlock and Galorian's leadership. I want revenge.

The Brown Bastard tossed the coinskin back to Fenric.


 * Brown Bastard - If you are going to take over the Mendel, just give us a shot at the Zarbanians and you can keep your money.
 * Fenric - Deal.

Fenric shook hands with all three, and told them to gather their forces. Fenric's fleet departed, followed by the ships of the Hyperspace Cartel and Force Seventeen. The Brown Bastard had brought two million men to his cause, while the Shattered Princeling and Covrig had brought five million. Fenric also purchased more supplies from the CBA's stores. He was ready to press his claim on Ugandalore.

Red and White like Roses
Tick, tap, tick.

The sound of Lord Dominator Domivere's unsheathed claws echoed throughout the Persan Alpha Caucus Chamber as she glared down with glowing yellow eyes at the three Ugandalorians standing defiantly before her. Normally the black and neon gothic halls of Persa would have been a welcoming place for any member of the Mendel Pact, but today everything gave off a cold aura that chilled the party of three to the bone, though they refused to show it.


 * Domivere - Now be a dear and please repeat what you said to me. My hearing must be going because I could have sworn you told me that the High Kings were overthrown by some upstart who wants us to help him take on the Xonexi or else?

The messengers below grimaced, they knew the Red Queen's (another title for the Lord Dominator) hearing was certainly not going by any stretch of the imagination. She just wanted to see the squirm and they had no intention of giving her the satisfaction. Their leader quickly clear his throat and spoke up load and clear his voice ringing through the dark chamber.


 * Messenger 1 - Yes you heard correctly. Our new and gracious lord the Hand of Retribution has found the former High Kings of Mendel unworthy of their positions as the leaders of the Pact. Casio Lwerian'ca has been exiled and Comacar O'Kariin and Barda Clett were slayen in honorable combat. The Hand now intends to take back the territory stolen from our nations by the Xonexi tyrants and demands you assistance from persa in his cause as brothers and sisters of the Pact.

Domivere didn't say anything for awhile just sat back and sighed to herself.


 * Domivere - Oh Barda, why?

Quickly straightening herself she lead forward and tented her hands over her mouth so that only her eyes could be seen as she glared down at the trio below her. When she did speak her voice possessed a uniform clarity that despite its even tone was bristling with daggers.


 * Domivere - That was a promise made to Barda Clett. A man who was a good friend and beyond to our people and would have never made such a demand of us. A man that your fool of a leader murdered in cold blood and usurped his throne. In killing the man you have killed the promise and any obligation we had. The answer is no and he can expect that we will be the ones to bring retribution to him. You may go now, have a good day.

The leader saw the man to his right trembling in rage and made a move to stop him, but to late. The warrior fired at Domivere's head with his plasma blaster. Domivere simply tilted her head to the side a the shot exploded harmlessly against the wall.


 * Messenger 2 - You will not speak of our new king in such a matter you impertinent whore! You think you can win a war against us! You are sorely mistaken!

Domivere merely sat back and smiled, eyes now glowing red as her shadow seemed to grow and darken behind her. The leader of the messengers eyes widened in fear, the Laws of Sacred Hospitality had been broken, there was nothing protecting them now.


 * Domivere - Frumious. Lunch Time.

Two black claws shot from the black mass that had become the Lord Dominator's shadow and grabbed the two messengers standing beside their leader. They disappeared into the dark mass and horribly crunching noises could be heard with in. From the darkness two headless bodies flopped out onto the floor and a massive fanged head on a long neck stretched out to snap the rest up. The remaining messenger drew his sword and began to back away before Lord First Councilor Militant, Raging Storm unleashed a blast of flame. In the light of the fire the eyes of the twisted gargoyles that filled the Caucus Chamber seemed to dance with sadistic glee. Finally the flames subsided and the messenger rolled around on the ground smoking. He tried to claw his molted helmet of his face but it did no good. His armor had been fused to his skin.

Domivere leaped down from her seat and landed lightly on her feet before stalking over to the whimpering, prone figure. Lifting him up by the neck she pinned him to the wall and growled.


 * Domivere - Now I'm going to write a letter to your leader and I expect you to carry it for me... Though on second thought...

With one swift motion she ripped away his chest plate making him scream out in agony as the molten mass tore away long, thick strips of skin as it was peeled from his body. Domivere pulled out a progressive knife and gave a sadistic grin.


 * Domivere - I think I'll just carve it into your skin for good measure. Make sure an ignorant pleb like you doesn't forget

VROOOM the engines of a Minotaur Plasma Motorcycle roared as it sped down the violet SpeedWay suspended in the air as it twisted its way across the Gothic skyline of the Persan City Air Ship. The Motorcycle was bright red with a white diamond checker pattern. It rider worn a leather similar colored and patterned suit and the helmet was jet black obscuring the rider's face. Coming up on a turn the rider crouched down low and put on a burst of speed sending a concentrated scarlet stream of plasma as she tore through the turn and then began to slow down as she shifted the motorcycle over into the next lane as she pulled into park at a WayStop. Stepping off her cycle the rider took of her element to reveal a jet black Naiyu Vanara with purple highlights streaked through her fur and bright blue eyes. As she got off a black and gold furred Boyk with dark brown eyes named Sandulf waved and walked. He flicked off the timer he had project from his Ocular Nano Machine and gave her a high five.


 * Sandulf - Congrats ya beat your old time. Looks like those new upgrades payed off.
 * Nyako - I should hope so I'll need all the speed I can get if I want to win the Trinity Grand Prix.
 * Sandulf - So you're really going for it, huh?
 * Nyako - Of course I'am. I said what I said and I meant what I. Just like I always do.
 * Sandulf - Well then your pit crew will be right behind you!

He gave her a smile and wink while he said and she gave a small smirk and a nod in return. The two continued onward to a lift that brought them down to the pedestrian level of the city. There they saw a bright pink Versian named Hr'sica, an albino Demonica named Necrops, and massive jet black Doroth named Noxius. All of them had a red diamond with a white diamond within in painted on their right shoulder. A symbol that they part of the same group of friends.


 * Hr'Sica - Heard ya put on an impressive burst up there.
 * Sandulf - Beat her former record.
 * Necrops - Impressive, but will be enough to win the Prix.
 * Nyako - I can teak it up a bit more, but after that... well it'll have to do.

She gave a sigh and Noxius grunted before speaking.


 * Noxius - There's no point in worrying about it at the moment. Besides we have a concert to get to.
 * Hr'Sica - Aww damn, come on let's scram!

The group quickly took to the pedestrian WalkWays as they made their way towards the city's central hub. A massive stage was set up in the center and a even large crowd had gathered around. The group wheeved their way through the sea of people to get a good view. The light dimmed and the crowd quickly grew quiet. Three people step onto the stage, two of which were instantly recognizable. One of the most was Alice Ex Machina. The Sentient Vocaloid/Hardlight Hologram Entity waved to the crowd and smiled brightly.


 * Alice Ex Machina - Hi ya'll! It's Alice Ex Machina here to rock your world and I'm here with two very special guests! Please welcome Fragment Persona!

The blue, black, and pink robotic body the Norn AI was inhabiting waved and winked.


 * Fragment Persona - Hello everybody! I must say its a pleasure to perform with my two good friend in front of you all.
 * Alice Ex Machina - Aliezka Reibat!

A black Naiyu Vanara with one red eye and one glowing yellow waved to the crowd, but didn't say anything.


 * Sandulf - Aliezka Rebat, never heard of her.
 * Nyako - I have, she's pretty popular on the frontier worlds, all across the UAE actually, but good luck finding her. She mostly just plays at taverns and what not. Seeing her here is huge.
 * Alice Ex Machina - Now let the concert begin!

The three songstresses began to play. They got through about three songs, all with impressive laser lights and pyrotechnics. however something happened as when they were about to begin Aleizka titled her head to the side and then motioned her fellow songstresses over. There was some rapid fire discussion before the trio turned back the crowed, grim looks on their faces.


 * Alice Ex Machina - We're sorry, but it is our greatest regret to inform you all that High King Barba Clett of the Mendel Pact has been slayen.

There was a collective gasp throughout the crowd and Fragment Persona picked up the rest of the announcement.


 * Fragment Persona - He was slayen by a rouge Ugandalorian calling himself the Hand of Retribution. The Hand's goals are to take vengeance on the Xonexi and has issued an ultimatum to our government to either join him or it is war. Our government has chosen war.
 * Alice Ex Machina - In honor of our fallen friend the concert has been canceled and we would like to have a moment of silence.

After the moment passed the crowd began filtering out of the Hub.


 * Nyago - War with the Xonexi huh? I don't like the Xonexi, no I hate them, them and their Angelfire, but war...

Sandulf looked at his friend with heavy concern. The Persan had never face the Xonexi or their Angelfire. However missile weren't always on target and at that range... well accidents happen, tragic accidents.


 * Sandulf - Come on let's work on the Cycle some more.
 * Nyago - Right.

The three songstresses walked into a back room. Alice quickly began switching out her guitar for a sword and several guns. Aleizka changed from a Naiyu Vanara to a Third Stage Vanara and switch out her guitar for the weapon known as Daemon Beam Scythe Baskerville.


 * Fragment Persona - Off to the Koatria Protectors Niyra?
 * Niyra - Indeed, Takanius needs to know. Poor boy he's more then able to take it, but it will be hard on him. It always is.
 * Alice Ex Machina - Right, well I'm off to pop the skulls of some important Hand supporters I've got on my hit list. See what information they've got as well.
 * Fragment Persona - I'll keep you guys updated on any new developments with the guilds information network. I'll even try to make contact with the Polychromatic see where that goes.
 * Alice Ex Machina - Right well good luck to you all.
 * Niyra - Ava accel u eee.
 * Fragment Persona - And to you.

The wheels of a red and gold carriage squeaked up the winding road placed precariously atop the steep slop of a massive, jagged mountain. Inside the carriage sat a Vanara Trahaxoi hybrid named Forterra with black fur and blood red feathers who sat impatiently tapping her toes while sipping a glass of blood mixed with the Mendel alcohols Kraa'vee, Jiheer Spirit, and Kadalian Ale. A mixture that would have probably killed most races, luckily Vanara were completely unable to get drunk. Across from her sat a silver scaled Doroth named Xiero with a wry smile permanently playing across his face as he sipped his own glass of blood, no alcohol included though.


 * Xiero - Lady Forterra are you aware of the reason why you are here?
 * Forterra - No I'm not. All I known is that my mother sent me here on a special mission.
 * Xiero - Tell me are you aware of a organization referred to as The Silver Dawn?

At this Forterra's interest was immediately pricked. Her foot stopped tapping and she set down her glass as she leaned forward setting down her glass. Her eyes narrowed and she nodded.


 * Forterra - My mother told me, you're an organization dedicated to studying the lower regions of Accel Space and Stitches that dwell there.
 * Xiero - Indeed you've been educated well.
 * Forterra - Thank you, but you still haven't answered my question. Why am I here?
 * Xiero - Patience, patience I will get to that. You see we are a special division of the Silver Dawn referred to as the Crimson Rays dedicated to study and protection of one thing.

The carriage came to a stop by a pair of massive, black gates with gargoyles intertwined in them. The gates swung open and carriage trundled its little way through before stopping out in the great snowy court yard.


 * Forterra - And that is?
 * Xiero - Step outside and you will see.

Forterra did so as the carriage doors swung open and stopped before a massive Gothic cathedral rising imposingly into into the sharp winter air. from inside the cathedral see could see the soft warm glow of fire burning.


 * Xiero - Welcome lady Forterra to the Crimson Ray's headquarters.

Scanning the courtyard she saw movement to her right and spun to see a massive wolf stalking to her.


 * ???1 - Sarjif! What have I told you about eating the guests.

To Forterra's surprise the great beast sat down and actually looked abashed. Forterra then turned back to the cathedral to see, once again to her surprise, a small third stage Vanara in her late second year(12 to 14 for a Vanara) with black hair that had silver ends, porcelain skin, and bicolored eyes, one blood red, the other electric blue. Indeed she rather looked like a living doll. Her cloths were all black except for the zipper on her jacket which looked like thorns, a red rose on one side, and a white rose on the other.


 * ???2 - Ah so your're the one Xiero told me was coming.

Forterra looked over her shoulder to she a blond haired man with a square jaw, a scruffy beard, and his hair tied back in a pony tail.


 * Forterra - You're human?
 * ???2 - Ah yes, not French though. Name's Caster, David Caster.

He held out his hand a Forterra shook it. The little girl from before came over to Caster and tugged on his jacket.


 * ???1 - Caster, who's this?
 * Caster - Ah yes you haven't been introduced. Rose this is Group Commander Forterra, Forterra this is Rose.

Rose looked Forterra up and down frowning a tapping her foot as she crossed her arms.


 * Rose - I was no aware we were having visitors, what is she here for.

Forterra scowled at not being directly addressed, but held her tongue. No need to start a conflict over some child's petulant remark. Caster's eye widened in surprise and he scratched his chin thoughtfully.


 * Caster - You mean the Master didn't tell you?
 * Rose - I haven't seen Master in days! He's been locked up in his study and never comes out.
 * ???3 - Well then I suppose I should come out shouldn't I.

Everyone turned to see a figure standing on the steps to the cathedrals entrance. He wore a black trench coat and wide brimmed hat that completely obscured his face, everything about him was caste in shadows. Rose immediately perked up and ran over giving the figure a hug.


 * Rose - Master you've finally come out. Also why do we have a visitor, we never get visitors, or least ones that Sarjif doesn't eat.

The Master chuckled and reached down to pat Rose on the head.


 * Master - Its good to see you Rose and I supposed you've been introduced.
 * Rose - I've been given a name and rank.
 * Master - And those are?
 * Rose - Group Commander Forterra.
 * Master - Good you will need to keep that in mind, because this is the person you will be going with on your first trip outside the cathedral.
 * Forterra and Rose - WHAT!
 * Rose - But I've never been outside the cathedral.
 * Master - And now is the time to start. Don't worry I'll be with you the whole time, now run along.
 * Rose - Fine.

Rose walked up the Forterra and looked up at her.


 * Rose - Alright lets go.
 * Forterra - Good its about time.
 * Rose - Come on Sarjif, we're going.

Rose grunt and stalked off to the carriage with the wolf bounding after her fallowed by Forterra shaking her head. Caster and Xiero came up to the Master and stood beside him.


 * Caster - Master why are we sending Rose off to the outside world?
 * Xiero - Yes I've been wondering about that myself.
 * Master - She has an important destiny. However ones destiny does not come knocking at your door, you must go out and find it.

And with that he walked off with the swirling snow quickly obscuring his presence. Not even leaving foot prints behind.

Wind and Sand
Fenric stood once again on the deck of his command ship, the Silent Raven. This time, two Viterva Khmara Zealots guarded him. He liked to switch up his guards, to prevent any of them from getting the chance to kill him. He was speaking this time to two of his brothers, Fafnir and Fenrir. They still mourned the loss of Reyner. Also present was the Shattered Princeling.


 * Shattered Princeling - When we came to you, the Brown Bastard made it clear to us that we were to report any information you may find of use. Consider this my first report.
 * Fafnir - What do you have?
 * Shattered Princeling - I understand you have need of more men. I may know where you can find some. What do you know of the Wasterling Emirate?
 * Fenric - Some sort of hyper-evolving lifeform. They have not been seen since the Stryptospondilus War. What about them?
 * Shattered Princeling - What if I told you that the Wasterlings you fought were not the real Wasterlings?
 * Fafnir - Cease the riddles!
 * Shattered Princeling - The Wasterlings you battled, the Shin Akiba are their real names. They simply took the form of the Wasterlings. The real Wasterlings still exist on their desert world. They have almost been rendered extinct by the Shin Akiba, but they have since built up their numbers some. Perhaps you can appeal to them to join you.
 * Fenric - How? I cannot promise them revenge on an enemy that is long gone.
 * Shattered Princeling - No, but you can offer them what Morg offered the Shin Akiba. Ships to spread off their world. Food for their people, that sort of thing.
 * Fenric - ...Just what kind of princeling are you?
 * Shattered Princeling - The kind who did not die when he was supposed to.

The Princeling turned around and left, his cloak billowing behind him. The Viterva Khmara guards let him pass.


 * Fenrir - How did he know all that?
 * Fafnir - Should we drag him back in here?
 * Fenric - No. Let him go.
 * Fenrir - Are we going to go investigate this?
 * Fafnir - How can we? We do not know where the planet is.
 * Fenrir - We could just ask the Princeling.
 * Fenric - Morg knows.
 * Fafnir - He will never help us.
 * Fenric - He will if he thinks he will be pardoned.
 * Fenrir - And will you pardon him?
 * Fenric - Perhaps. If he helps, and if his information proves accurate and fruitful, we shall see.
 * Fafnir - I do not trust these mercenaries. Throwing back our money?
 * Fenrir - All the more reason to recruit the Wasterlings.
 * Fenric - I agree. We will go to the planet and find out the truth. I will go see Morg.

Fenric made his way to the depths of Silent Raven, the cells where his four prisoners were being kept. Pollimer beat on the transparent holographic door, screaming to be let out, but Pang Vore, Lime, and Morg were all calm even at Fenric's approach. He walked up to Morg's cell and crouched down.


 * Morg - I will not bend the knee.
 * Fenric - Nor do I expect you to. That is not why I am here.
 * Morg - Then what do you want, twice-traitor?
 * Fenric - The coordinates to the Wasterling planet.
 * Morg - Why?
 * Fenric - That is not your concern while you are in this cell.
 * Lime - "Why" is not in your vocabulary anymore, Morg!
 * Morg - Fuck you, Limey!
 * Pollimer - Would you two shut the fuck up? I am trying to masturbate here!
 * Lime - Yeah, Polly? Come hold my dick afterward!
 * Fenric - The four of you must be quite comfortable in here.
 * Morg - What do I get if I give you the coordinates? A pardon?
 * Fenric - No. More like...a probation. A period of observation.
 * Morg - Ah I get it. You get what you want, then look for the first opportunity to blow my head off.
 * Fenric - That depends on you.
 * Morg - ...Fine. 309.82 degrees, 6583.76 parsecs. Fat lot of good it will do you.
 * Fenric - Good. I will return if the information proves accurate. ...Well, I will return either way, but it will be a considerably more pleasant visit if I find what I want.
 * Morg - And what is that, exactly? Everybody knows the truth about the Shin Akiba.
 * Fenric - Yes, but apparently not everybody knows the truth about the Wasterlings.
 * Morg - ...What?

Fenric did not reply. He simply turned and went back tot he bridge, where he had his pilots input the coordinates and enter hyperspace.

The fleet came out over a large desert world. Since Fenric had not seen the Wasterlings' home before, he had no idea if it was the right world or not. He ordered his sensor operator to scan for life. When the scans came back positive, he and some of his men boarded a shuttle and went down to the surface. The area they landed in was covered in sand, with jagged black cliffs sticking up from the ground. The wind was heavy, and sand billowed all around them. Fenric and many of the mercs were already sweltering, but the Red Veil tribesmen were used to such weather. Trevagr had on a baseball cap that served to keep some of the sand out, but the helmets Fenric and his men wore only served to make their brains boil. They quickly took them off.

After walking for an excruciating hour in the heat and sun, with the only creature they met along the way being a buzzing fly or two, they party came across huge animal tracks in the sand. They knelt to examine them.


 * Trevagr - The hell are these?
 * Fenric - First recorded battle against the Wasterlings mentioned them riding giant creatures. This is a good sign.
 * ??? - Not for you.

Fenric suddenly became aware of something behind him. Turning around, he came face-to-face with a drawn bow. The creature behind it was wrapped head-to-toe in black cloth that even covered its face. Only its eyes could be seen, and those were yellow, slitted, and surrounded by scales.


 * Fenric - We do not mean you any harm. I assume you are a Wasterling?
 * Wasterling - Yeah, and not one of those Shin Akiba bastards either. You looking for them?
 * Fenric - No. I was looking for the real Wasterlings.
 * Wasterling - Why? You here to enslave us too?
 * Fenric - I come offering an alliance. Will you take me to your emirs?

More Wasterlings suddenly jumped out of the sands and aimed their weapons, mostly bows and cutlasses, at Fenric's party.


 * Wasterling - Aye, we will take you, but you will not like what will happen to you.
 * Fenric - Let us find out, shall we?

Fenric, Trevagr, and the others soon found themselves being herded across the desert. Eventually, they caught up to the party of Wasterlings riding the giant beasts, called Python Mounts. They looked like hundred-foot tall elephants at first glance, with tusks and a trunk. But further looks revealed the "trunk" to be tipped with the creature's mouth rather than a nose. They were also much longer in body and covered in scales. Structures that looked like houses were strapped to their backs. Along with them, some Wasterlings rode the backs of huge, brown, Hyena-like monsters, about the size of a rhinoceros. The bristly-haired beasts snapped and slobbered at the newcomers.

When they came into the main Wasterling camp, more of a city by their standards, they passed by stakes with corpses tied to them. Their flesh had been peeled away. Passing dozens of them, the group was taken into a large tent with red silk interiors carpets, and fancy furniture. Five older Wasterlings sat on couches, expensive pillows piled under their scaly asses. They hissed upon seeing the newcomers.


 * Emir 1 - Why have you brought these creatures before us?
 * Wasterling Captain - They requested an audience with you, sires. I warned them of the consequences, but they insisted.
 * Emir 2 - What do you want, outsiders? Speak quickly, or we will rip the flesh from your bodies.
 * Fenric - I come seeking an alliance.
 * Emir 2 - An alliance? Do you mistake us for the Shin Akiba? r perhaps you wish to replace them and wipe us out for good.
 * Fenric - I know what the Shin Akiba did to your people. It disgusts me.
 * Emir 3 - Bah! We do not care for your sympathies.
 * Fenric - I cannot offer you revenge. The Shin Akiba are gone from this universe. What I can offer you is the next best thing. Power.
 * Emir 4 - Power?
 * Fenric - I will give you ships and weapons. You can spread off this planet to others, rebuild your population, but on fertile worlds of green plants and many, many beings to serve you. All I ask in return is for you to fight an enemy with me.
 * Eir 5 - Whatever enemy you have is not ours.
 * Fenric - Like I said, I cannot offer you revenge. We have no common foes, no causes. All I can say is that if you help me, I will help your people.
 * Emir 1 - Do you know how many Wasterlings there were before the Shin Akiba came?
 * Fenric - No.
 * Emir 1 - Four billion. Millions of tribes. Thousands of cities. Do you know how many are left?
 * Fenric - No.
 * Emir 1 - Seventy-five million! A few hundred tribes. None of our original cities stand undamaged. The Shin Akiba destroyed us. We may be able to rebuild, yes, but not in the lifetimes of the men you see in this room. We certainly will not remain the same. The five before you are the last Emirs. When we die, the Wasterling people will become nothing more than warring tribes on a desert world.
 * Fenric - Then let me help. Let me save your people.
 * Emir 3 - Save us? You ask us to fight for you. Fighting means death. You want us to die for you. How does that help us?
 * Fenric - All war has sacrifice. If you do not accept our agreement, what will you do? Wait for the end? Tell me, is dying with a cutlass in hand, fighting an enemy in his own home not better than being backstabbed for food or smothering in a sandstorm.
 * Emir 5 - *Sigh* If you can get our people off this planet, then we will help you.
 * Fenric - We can drop off food right now.
 * Emir 2 - No! You want our help, you get us off this planet!
 * Fenric - You said seventy-five million people. My ships could carry two hundred thousand of you, packed tight. We could even take a few of your beasts.
 * Emir 4 - How long will ferrying them all take?
 * Fenric - Given that the nearest habitable planet is Alpha Rosetta, I would say a day, maybe two, of steady evacuation.
 * Emir 5 - We can live with that.
 * Fenric - Deal, then. Where are your people now?
 * Emir 3 - The majority are in the valley of the Three Dunes. About fifty million. Over half are women and children. Get them out of here first to your new world, to your "utopia".
 * Fenric - Alpha Rosetta is hardly a utopia. It is little better than here. It is merely a drop point to get you all offworld.
 * Emir 2 - Fine. Just do it.

Fenric nodded. The Wasterling guards let him and his men leave. He radioed to his command ship.


 * Fenric - Bring the fleet to these coordinates. We need to pick the Wasterlings up and take them to Alpha Rosetta.
 * Pilot - Alpha Rosetta? Why? That place is a shithole!
 * Fenric - We just need to drop them off there for now until we get all of them offworld.
 * Pilot - How many in all?
 * Fenric - Seventy-five million in total, fifty million at the coordinates.
 * Pilot - Copy, coming in.

The valley of the Three Dunes was exactly what it sounded like. It was a deep pit with three massive sand dunes surrounding it. The dunes themselves miles high, and sand was continuously rolling down them. It was a precarious place to settle in huge numbers.

And sure enough, they had. Fifty million starving Wasterlings were huddled in the valley, digging for food in the sand. Over half were women and children. There were a few Pythons and hyena-beasts present as well. When they saw Fenric's ships hovering over them, they all got grave, concerned looks on their faces. Was this another attack? Fenric spoke over the broadcast speakers.


 * Fenric - Greetings to the Wasterling people. I am Fenric Vermillion. By request of the Emirs, I will betaking you to another planet, where you will be given proper food and shelter. Now, please approach the ships in small numbers. You will be beamed up.

The people were concerned at first, but eventually they stared trickling towards Fenric's ships. The ships moved about, sucking Wasterlings up with abduction beams. When a ship became fully loaded, it blasted off into hyperspace, then returned in about an hour, maybe less. This went on for a good eight hours. They had rescued about three million Wasterlings when shit hit the fan.

So far, they had successfully taken quite a few Python Mounts, maybe a hundred. But when a smaller corvette attempted to beam a particular one up, it fought and fought, and when it was almost in the cargo hold, the beast struck the entrance to the hold as it was released from the beam. The enormous creature fell down onto a large ship. The size and momentum acted like a cannonball, smashing the front of the ship in and causing it to impact with one of the sand dunes.

This set off an avalanche of sand. Millions of tons of sand raced towards the terrified people below. As the waves came down on them, they all raced for the beams, trampling one another. Several made it into the beams, but eventually the ships were all full. The rest could only hope to outrun the falling dunes. Perhaps another two million escaped the rolling dunes. The rest, about forty-five million, were crushed under the sand.

They spent the next few hours evacuating the two million survivors.


 * Pilot - Are we going to get the other twenty-five million? The Emirs?
 * Fenric - I do not know. Maybe they will blame us for this.
 * Trevagr - They surely will.
 * Pilot So do we go and talk to the Emirs?
 * fenric - ...Yes, but well-armed.

Later that evening, Fenric, Trevagr, and a company of Scythiag Dead Dreams and Veer Ultras returned to the Emirs' camp. They marched into the tent, unmolested by the guards. Inside, the Emirs did not seem pleased to see them again.


 * Emir 1 - Well, have you rescued all our people this quickly?
 * Fenric - There was... an accident. The dunes came down on them. We saved five million.
 * Emir 3 - Five?! Is that fucking all?!
 * Fenric - It was not our fault. The dunes were unstable as it was. My question for you is, do you still wish us to evacuate the rest of you?
 * Emir 4 - No.
 * Fenric - What?
 * Emir 2 - We no longer have nearly as much chance for famine or infighting now. Accident or no, this benefits us.
 * Fenric - The race, or just you?
 * Emir 1 - We ARE the race.
 * Fenric - You knew those people would die.
 * Emir 5 - We did not know it, but we hoped. You taking them would be just as good. We have no need of your "help". We just needed our position solidified.
 * Trevagr - You sick fucks!

Trevagr drew her pistol and shot one of the Emirs right in the forehead. She shouted out and collapsed onto the couch, spilling blood and brains all over the cushions. Following their mistress' lead, the Veers and Scythiags opened fire as well, gunning down the other four Emirs. The party left the shredded and bloody tent and emerged into a crowd of startled Wasterlings. This convoy was about two thousand strong, mostly warriors.


 * Fenric - Your Emirs are dead! We killed them. Now, you have a choice. Stay here and die with them, or come with us.

Despite the holiness attributed to the Emirs, the Wasterlings also respected the right to take control by force. So the warriors began cheering and waving their weapons about. Fenric recognized the Captain who had led them to the camp. He pointed at him.


 * Fenric - You! You are my new commander. The Wasterlings will follow you in battle.
 * Wasterling Captain - You honor me, Emir.
 * Fenric - I am not your Emir, but you will follow me all the same. Now, gather the other leaders of your people. The last twenty-five million will come with me, to a new world.

The Captain bowed, and went to spread the word. Fenric's men dragged the dead Emirs out of the tent and turned it into his momentary command center. The Scythiags skinned the dead Emirs, but put their fancy clothes back on, and hung them upside down on posts in the camp. Late the next day, the rest of the Wasterling Emirs, elders, tribe chiefs, and other leaders came into his tent. They were a menagerie of colors and shapes. Some wore bones, others feathers. Some were entirely naked. One wore the hide of a hyena creature and the skull of some massive bird as a helmet.


 * Fenric - Greetings, leaders of the Wasterling people. I have slain the five Emirs who called themselves rulers of your people. They orchestrated the deaths of forty-five million of your women and children so they could take power. We rescued five million, who are now on another world with plenty of food and shelter. I extend the same offer to you all. Bring your tribes and cityfolk under my banners, and I will relocate you as well.


 * Bird-skull leader - How do we know this is not a trick, that you will not just kill us too?
 * Fenric - You will have to trust me. You trusted your Emirs, did you not?
 * Wasterling with painted scales - They showed to be the strongest of us.
 * Fenric - And I killed them all. Now who is strongest.
 * Broken-horned Wasterling - He has defeated the Emirs in battle! We must follow him!
 * Bird-skull leader - Agreed. It is known, he who defeats the leader becomes the leader.
 * Painted scales - Are you all sure of this? It could be a trap.
 * Wasterling with feathered helm - If we stay, we starve. With this one, we have a chance.
 * Fenric - Then are you in agreement?
 * Painted scales - We have no choice but to trust you, outsider. But if you lie, and kill us, our people will be gone forever.
 * Fenric - As I said, I am not lying. My word is my word.
 * Broken-horned Wasterling - Then we follow you.

It took two more full days to transport the remaining twenty-five million Wasterlings to Alpha Rosetta. Afterward, Fenric took ten million of them, the warriors, with him in his fleet. He was finally ready to present himself before the Hand of Retribution.

The Green Horde
''There was a spark, a spark of light as the room was given life and all of the men entered the room together silently. It was a cold winter day and news had just reached the concerning the Mendel schism code named The Green Horde by officials. This news is always worrisome for the High King and everyone else involved in planning, it meant more war, more deaths and still another schism which may have been avoidable somehow. However that was all in the past and now was the time for action, old plans to be drawn up and new ones created as another conflict with the Mendel seem to be brewing once more. A brew which the High king must empty once more as he walks in with simple white robes on whilst his comrades wear red, black, and green to show off their field of expertise. Accompanying the High King comes the High Prophets, the Eight kings and of course several generals who have come in case of military actions being necessary in the plans to come. Now after walking in, the men pull up finely crafted chairs of wood with white cushioning and rest their feet upon the ground as they gaze out at a table in front of them within the room. The table is polished and has various papers and folders placed upon it in a obviously hurried fashion and as they get comfortable and the guards stand by the entrance, two in total with their weapons sheathed, High King Sylo Ethland stands up and smiles as he speaks to those before his table.''


 * Sylo: High Prophets, Eight Kings and Generals, I welcome you to our meeting on this wonderful blizzard of a morning. If any of you care for food or beverages then please tell me now and I will have them delivered here personally for this tower is part of my home it is only custom.

High Prophet Joko looks up, his eyes slightly darkened and tired.


 * Joko: I would like some beverages and food please, it has been a long journey as of late.
 * Sylo - Understood, well if you all may, I will be back within several minutes with your food.

''They all nod or say alright as Sylo pushes in his chair and leaves the room. The silence that was present soon fades away to chatter as he leaves and the officials speak about their lives, events going on and this Mendel schism in minor detail. This continues until the door opens after several minutes and Sylo Ethland walks back inside with a tray of cheeses and an assortment of breads and other delights alongside a pitcher and some cups. Since his arm is out to hold the tray his uniform is revealed underneath, he appears to be in his military uniform which is simply colored pants and a long sleeve over shirt with black boots. The pants and shirt are the same colors, white with purple and red looping around the cuffs and acting as stripes down the sides of his pants to the left and right. He doesn't have his gloves on, but he is wearing the entire outfit and officials finish up their conversations as he enters and sets down the tray in the middle of the table after clearing folders and so forth. Sylo then sits back down and opens the folder at his end as he searches through it.''


 * Sylo - I hope you all enjoyed yourself while you had the time for in a few moments we shall begin discussing this Green Horde as the name suggests. So before we create divisions and debate this issue, let me give you all a explanation of what we know.

Several officials lean in alongside High Prophet Elka.


 * Elka - We are all ears.

Sylo takes out several papers and organizes them together as he closes the folder and begins reading from them and looking up every so often at everyone else in a much more serious tone.


 * Sylo - From what the reports show currently, the Mendel Pact has had a change in government, a change which came about from internal instability, corruption and various other trickery which lead to the eventual replacement of those in charge of the pact. Alongside that, the Mendel have now pulled out of the Covenant of Mirus from what I understand and relationships with the Pact have become as cold as the ice forming outside, mind you that this is all on their part and not on ours. So considering the sudden change, I believe it is safe to assume that the Pact is even more hostile now towards us or simply Isolationists, both of which will never be known until a later date. That is why I have called you all here to discuss as to what exactly you think happened, what we should do and whether we should support this new government or some of the unrest which has cropped up from all of this conflict.

The officials look at each other and down at the table, some out the window before eventually they begin speaking after Sylo finishes.


 * Elka - High King if I may, from what I hear it appears as if the Mendel Pact has had a revolution internally which is anti-Xonexi or Isolationists but considering their attitude towards the Covenant and so forth from what you said, I assume anti-Xonexi and this alone I believe is enough to re-introduce internal combustion ideas considering the confederate nature of the Mendel. What we have before us is another threat from the same country we have fought for so long and I believe it is long past the time to begin to go on the offensive against them instead of always being on the defensive. For too long has the Xonexi and the French held us back on these matters, we have fought and lost lives to this Pact which only continues to grow worse ever since we first stepped into Mirus and still our allies are failing to grasp the common sense of the situation so I believe we should overstep them and begin plans to break down this Pact for without unity they will be unable to continue their wars.


 * Sylo - Your loyalty to your nation is always admirable Elka and while I do have annoyance concerning the lack of suitable Xonexi actions on the Mendel problem, we must realize the differences present between our state in theirs. While we stand united and within our worlds of religion and humbleness, they live in a world of diversity with more freedoms then us, but with no direction. So I will keep your combustion idea in consideration High Prophet Elka, but we may need to be more cautious lest we awaken a political beast we cannot handle.


 * Elka - Well what do you all suggest then?


 * Officer 1 - If we are going about this cautiously then I suggest we support the Mendelian forces which work against the newly established state. There must be opposition and if so then we can grant them Eldarisian weaponry and vehicles, of course we must regulate it though since these are our enemies we are funding. No soul walkers, no vital weapons, nothing that could give them a hand against us after the war or be capable of reverse engineering our weaponry to turn it against us.


 * Sylo - That sounds excellent, we will grant them laser weaponry since plasma is our current arsenal. It is effective yet lesser compared to plasma and as such it is suitable for this revolution. Others will probably support the rebels as well so our assistance will not be seen as an insult. Do we all agree?

Around 2/3 of the table raises their hands.


 * Sylo - I assume those of you who did not wish to invade the Mendel?


 * Officer 2 - Of course, we have the resources, manpower and ability to finally wipe out this threat. Our galactic image is already not the best but we can always spin this off as a positive thing for the Mendelians so we get less backlash. The pain and suffering caused this Mirusian Triumvirate has been enough and so it is our duty to silence them before it gets worse. What is next? The Persans become genocidal purifiers, the Zarbanians jackboot fascists? We must act.


 * Sylo - So we shall, but for now we must remain cautious for a minefield is in front of us and we cannot waltz through it as if it never existed. We must disarm the mines slowly and drive ourselves a path through to the other end. The native Mendels, Zarbanians, Waptorians, Congregationals, Multus and even the foreign Persans and Tyrii will be defeated through war, culture, diplomacy, religion, technology, persistence and wisdom by the end of my reign and that is a fact for Cuth will foresee of it.

''The officials nod to his statement and move onto other subjects regarding the nation, speaking of finding more information on the rebels to supply, Andromeda, Milky way and Mirus and the defense of their colonies. Speaking for almost the entire night, they eventually would get up and leave after a prayer, each one going out into the world to spread the news of their decisions. Eldarisia now backing the rebels with laser weaponry and older vehicles, Sylo Ethland works to see that this new Green Horde is squashed under the heels of the rebels or if they fail, Eldarisia.''

While Shadows Plot
Warmaster Habarkius the Shieldbreaker was free, and he had been for a long time. Yet, something kept gnawing at him, and the sixth-adopted son of the late War-Imperator Caligustus knew exactly what that was. Once, none other than the Hegemony had chained him.

By Vassilus Orkan...

The thought came quickly, subconsciously, and Habarkius breathed in anger at the name. Orkan. Blasted Orkan. How many times had that Zozer escaped him, mocked him, humiliated him? After his capture, his brothers had freed him while the Hegemony had blooded itself against the Living Storm, but the damage was done, and Habarkius had been given the task of assaulting the Xonexi over no man's land, straight into the maw of enemy guns. The casualties had been great.

Not that Habarkius cared. Caligustus had been wise, adopting these Dragowar in which he saw certain traits of himself; Habarkius possessed his adopted father's drive to lay low everything that opposed him. He did not thirst for glory. He did not even wish to bring Eternal War to those states he had crushed. Frankly, with his adoptive father dead, he did no longer care. The only thing the Sixth Warmaster cared about was to erase crush foe that opposed him, tear down every bastion behind which cowards hid, until every last corner of the universe had felt the toch of his Quake Cannon. Thus the title of the Shieldbreaker had been bestowed upon him, and Habarkius wore the mantle well.

Only one foe had not been crushed. Vassalius Orkan, who cowered behind the walls of the Hegemony. Orkan would be smashed into atoms by the payload the Shieldbreaker and the Hegemony would be brought down by his Wrackwrought, even if that was the last act they ever did. Habarkius had sworn so.

Habarkius...

Another whisper. Not in his mind, this time. The Shieldbreaker drew his Quake Cannon, the massive weapon loading it's equally vast ammunition. With but the push of a trigger, Habarkius could pulverise anything in his path. His self-made, master-crafted armour moved smoothly as he adjusted his body weight, as did the iron pteruges and bits of chainmail hanging from it.

Shadows began to move, engulfing him and transporting him to a place altogether different. They unfolded revealing a dark throne room that somehow send a shiver over the Warmaster's spine. Before the Sixth Warmaster now stood a smaller being, utterly unenhanced, yet the power he radiated was almost palpable. To his right stood Khain the Firstborn, Lord of the Fallen Olympians. To his left, delving in the shadows, an Euchada, his long robes dark yet surprisingly colourful, a constant grin on his face. Habarkius did not like the look of him. Next to the Shieldbreaker stood another Dragowar, head crowned in a victory wreath, his red-laquered armor inlaid with ornate designs of brass. The Dragowar's equally ornate chain-poleaxe was still wet and dripping with blood. Habarkius recognised the newcomer instantly as Gaibenius the Relentless, the Shieldbreaker's adoptive brother. The Third Warmaster seemed confused as to why he had been transported here as the Sixth was, shoving the twitching body of a dying Orgaat off his blade.

The Shieldbreaker had seen the Dark Master only for an instant, yet he was certain Terikalinra was also these, watching, listening. This alone made the normally brash warrior caution.


 * Khain - Rise, Habarkius and Gaibenius. You have heard the news?
 * Gaibenius - I have. The Mendel High Kings are dead.

It was clear to his brother that the normally stoic Third Warmaster could barely contain his glee at the situation, and clearly had taken advantage of it to do battle against his hated foes. Habarkius scoffed.


 * Habarkius- It does not interest me.
 * Archarax - Then perhaps the plans of their new Ultimate Lord will.

Gaibenius listened attentively, as Habarkius rose one scaly eyebrow, listening.


 * Archarax - This new leader of theirs calls himself the Hand of Retribution. Gaibenius, you shall join his forces, and defeat the armies of Takanuis Clett and his sister. With the Lightson dead, the Darkling Lords shall be free to corrupt the Pact at will, and we shall be all but unstoppable.
 * Gaibenius - NO! I WILL NOT BOW TO ANY MENDEL SCUM!

Immediately, the Third Warmaster regretted those words as a painful spasm wacked his points.


 * Archarax - Remember to whom you speak, Dragowar. I have Tibrix' authority and speak with Terikalinra's voice.

The Relentless bowed his head in subservience as the other warrior continued.


 * Archarax - He wishes to destroy the Hegemony.

The head of the Shieldbreaker rose abruptly.


 * Habarkius - WHAT!? The Hegemony is MINE!
 * Archarax - False. The Hegemony belongs to the Darkling Gods, and they have judges it unworthy in their further plans. Their use is over, their time is up.
 * Habarkius - Then at least let me do the killing.
 * Archarax - As master Terikalinra wills it. Everything is proceeding as planned. Ever since they made their deal with the Dark Master to find the Koatria Colleges, the Commando Agency, pride and joy of the Hegemony, has been turned into Dark Koatria. From there, the taint has since spread to the Hegemony's Assassin Temples, Supersoldier Cohorts, Mech-Houses and Titan Files. The rest of the Hegemony, including that fool Marius, are blissfully unaware of it.
 * Khain - Then these units shall be added to my command.
 * Archarax - *His face turning slightly sour* So the lord Terkalinra has decreed it.
 * Habarkius - And the others? Their fate is annihilation?

At once, the shadows intensified, flowing together, rising, condensing, as two red eyes flared out, piercing into the mind of all present. All beings in the room, enhanced or not, bowed at once. Before the Dark Master, such a gesture was as natural as the inevitable coming of the night.


 * Terikalinra - No. The power of Darkness shall infuse them all.

A dark sphere, drawn from the depths of the Abyss, formed between Terikalinra's hands, growing, quickening, forming a miniature gravitational well before collapsing upon itself. In it's place stood a Zozer, a former soldier. His torso was a translucent like grey water, and a cyan energy radiated from within, pushing all light away from him. His head was sheer white, as his eyes hungrily ate all light that fell into them. Nothing was reflected back from those orbs. His limbs were of the deepest black, and the shadow he cast was a pool of pure, inky blackness. Much like the Abyssal Realm itself, the entire being was but a shell of the Void, filled and sustained with Dark Energy. It radiated darkness.


 * Terikalinra - Behold, the new shape I will bestow on the Hegemony.

His eyes shone brighter for just a second, and, in a whirlpool of Void Energy, the Hegemony Infused was sucked back into the Abyssal Realm from where it came.


 * Terikalinra - All of you will have your share. Khain, the enhanced. Gaibenius and Habarkius, revenge against your chosen foes. Archarax, a battle unlike any other. But me...I will have the Hegemony itself. Now, prepare all the troops you can muster. Everything has been set in motion.

Silent Survivor
Kirta Clett stood looking out over the city of Luacuna, a Zarbanian colony she had come to inhabit in her bounty hunting career. She had been contracted by the governor, Juren Van Korstorvin, to remove many of the criminal elements plaguing his city. It may have been illegal, but money was money, and she was heading else where. Wherever "else where" was. She snorted slightly to herself, and brought out a cigarette, lighting it, and taking a long drag, before something caught her eye. Looking down, she saw a Zarbanian APC, and, stepping out of it, was Bisarko, a figure instantly recognizable to almost every Mirusian, for good or ill. This wasn't good for Kirta, however. Hiring bounty hunters to deal with crime on a colony was illegal for Zarbanians, and this could land her in a prison in some seedy back water.

Running towards the insides of her apartment, she strapped on the rest of her armor, and began preparing to make a quick escape. She didn't know how the Iron Chancellor of Zarbania himself had found out about her activities, but she was going to have to figure that out later. As she was getting the last of her supplies ready, a voice spoke from behind her door.


 * Bisarko - I would advise you, my dear, to wait and hear what I have to say before you storm off.
 * Kirta - Sorry about the bounty hunting, won't happen again. Yadda yadda.
 * Bisarko - I'm not here about that. Juren is being punished for his shenanigans as we speak. I am here for something else.
 * Kirta - *shifting slightly* You need a job done?
 * Bisarko - Nothing like that. *Sighs* You should really let me in.

Kirta slowly made her way to the door, carefully picking her steps, before undoing the lock, and readying one of her blasters. The door opened, and there stood Bisarko, a just as big and brooding as her father described him. His eyes showed a slight sadness of some sort, though he betrayed nothing else as he straightened his uniform, and motioned for his grey armored guards to stay were they where.


 * Bisarko - I wish I did not have to tell you this, but, it is news of your father.
 * Kirta - What is it?
 * Bisarko - I tried to get your mother, and that thing you call Uncle, but they've disappeared. I hate delivering news about death and...
 * Kirta - *angrily* Kor'hanta, arun'ti!
 * Bisarko - Your father...has fallen to a usurper.

She looked at him unbelieving, anger spreading across her face.


 * Kirta - You lie.
 * Bisarko -*coldly* For what purpose?

Kirta stood and turned away, breathing heavily as she looked towards the window. This couldn't be. Who could've defeated her father? Unsure if she was listening, Bisarko went on, explaining the details and what was happening to the Pact, and what he knew of the Hand of Retribution.


 * Bisarko - Strange, how such a figure could rise to power among your clans. Emperor Ridanax, blessed be he, as ordered me to seek you out. He knows that if the Hand wants to destroy the Xonexi, we will be next.
 * Kirta - So this is about saving your own hides?
 * Bisarko - If only. Emperor Ridanax, has told me that, although he and your father where foes, he grew to respect his leadership and skills. The galaxy is a much darker place without him.
 * Kirta - Fine, are you Arun'ti going to help me or what?
 * Bisarko - Not directly. But the Emperor wanted to give you this.

The Iron Chancellor motioned for his guards, and one of them came in, carrying an ornate, bronze battle hammer. It was surrounded by a sparking energy field, and adorned with symbols of Kadaii Hoorangiir, the God of Battle among the Mendel.


 * Bisarko - The Emperor took this from his first Koatria he killed, and kept it as a trophy. To symbolize the reconciliation of our people, he wants you to have it.
 * Kirta - Heh, you assume I would take over after spilling this "Hand's" guts all over the floor?
 * Bisarko - Your father and Grand father where the High Kings, surely...
 * Kirta - Make no mistake, Arun'ti, I will kill this Hand of Retribution, but I'm not doing it for anything. Whoever wants to hold the throne can have it. I'm leaving after I'm done. They can sort their own problems out.
 * Bisarko - These are your people.
 * Kirta - So, are any of them resisting the Hand right now? Launching attacks and all that?
 * Bisarko - *looking down* No. Not yet.
 * Kirta - *Getting in his face* Then they're happy to be lead by a psychopath, and spit on my father's grave. Why should I lead them. Let them destroy themselves. What do I care?

Bisarko shuddered slightly. It took much to unnerve the Old Chancellor of Zarbania, but this girl's rage and pure nihilistic anger bothered even him. He had been a young man, but still remembered where that anger lead when the Mendel directed it at their foes. He almost pitied the Hand of Retribution. Almost. Kirta took the hammer, it's energy field extending just slightly to encompass her gauntlets, as she gave it a slight twirl. It was perfectly balanced for her to yield.


 * Kirta - Thanks for the gift. I'll see myself out. Tell Juren to rot in hell for me.
 * Bisarko - Do the same for the Hand of Retribution for me, please?

Kirta nodded in silence, as she took up her helmet and left. She would need time to plan her attack, and ready herself for killing the Hand once and for all. Bisarko merely watched her leave in sadness. Perhaps, she had the makings for a great Warrior-Queen amongst her people, as her father had risen to become the great Warrior-King of his people. To see her simply direct her energies to vengeance. It seemed like such a waste.

Sighing, Bisarko headed out, straightening his uniform and getting ready for the next items on his agenda. There was much work to be done. Zarbania would have some tough decisions ahead.

Tracking a Hunter
Many far flung colonies of the Pact in Mirus where quite independent, so much so that they tended to disregard much of anything they heard unless it effected them directly. When told that Phase-Hunter was to be apprehended at all costs, the inner most colonies prepared to obey with their all, but for those such Calthite, a hot bed for those that hated the Hand of Retribution, the ordered was ignored. Even as the human wandered onto their streets one stormy day, not one warrior raised his blade to stop him. It's likely he wouldn't have cared either way. The insane human staggered into the bar, hanging onto the door war, and looked up at the bar tender, his one eye dull and almost dead-looking, like a ravenous shark.


 * Phase - Drink. Now.
 * Bartender - Aye, Wilson. Anything special?
 * Phase - Surprise me.

The bartender turned to his work, as a group of three warriors turned to see him sloop down in a stool. One of them enthusiastically rose, despite his friends trying to get him to sit back down. The purple and green armored warrior quickly approached him, clearing his throat as he got close.


 * Warrior - You are Phase-Hunter, correct?
 * Phase - Guess so. You gonna take me into the Hand?
 * Warrior - Of course not. I had an elder brother, however, at the Battle of Demogorgon Prime.
 * Phase - My condolences, then.
 * Warrior - No, no. You saved his life. Tore through a bunch of Dominatus beasts yourself. I wanted to thank you.
 * Phase - Hm.
 * Warrior - No matter what the Hand says about you, you are always a hero to my Clan. Thank you.
 * Bartender - Yeah, that goes for all of us.

He set the drink down in front of Phase, whose hand moved stiffly to take it.


 * Bartender - Anyone here gives you trouble, and I'll take care of em.
 * Phase - I thank you, but I don't deserve it.

The 3 warriors and the Bartender gave him a questioning glance, as Phase stiffly raised his neck to look at them all, giving them a glimpse at the side of his face ruined by the Hand's mutilation.


 * Phase - Your High King, died, because of me. I don't deserve any kindness from any of you.

The room became uncomfortably quiet as Phase drank his drink in silence, and, as the three returned to their business in the corner, Phase raised his hand to the series of scars the Hand had left, feeling the whole thing slowly as he contemplated everything that had transpired. He wanted to rise up, face the Hand again, but, it felt...he felt empty.

Phase knew this feeling all too well. The feeling as though he was just a corpse going through the motions, a hollowed out puppet. When his first wife had died, then, the second...


 * Phase - *mutters* What good I am, when I cannot protect the people that need me?

So he merely sat there, his thoughts stopping, unable to grasp what was happening to him day after day, unsure of even what day or how many had passed since then. The bartender didn't give him any more drinks after his third, but tried to make him food to eat, though Phase barely touched anything. Even if he didn't care though, the tender still was worried, Phase's body starting to shake ever so slightly. Even with his regeneration and enhanced physique, Phase could still not sustain himself without food or water.

He didn't react as the door opened, and a familiar light purple armored Ugandalorian walked through, followed by 2 Kodalorians, one going to the back entrance, the other staying near the front. The bartender, of course, like any Mendel, recognized such a thinly disguised maneuver, and reached under the bar for his shotgun. As he did so, the purple armored warrior twirled his blaster pistol, and fired three times at the bartender. The familiar scent of burned flesh hit the air, but, much to the surprise of the bartender himself, Phase had seemingly teleported in front of him, the three rounds burning his back and armor, as the wounds resealed. Phase slowly stood, and turned to face the attacker.

Phase took a shaky step forward, before balancing himself again, and drew his twin blades.
 * Phase - Kurlos, you traitorous dog.
 * Kurlos - I'd thought killing you would be easy Phase. I'm surprised you even moved. Isn't standing there and watching as people die your only talent?
 * Phase - Let's test that. Give him a knife, and I'll watch as the blood drains from your throat.


 * Kurlos - Ha! Look at you, you idiot. You can't even stand up. How do you plan to survive this?
 * Phase - I don't.
 * Kurlos - Killing me won't do much for the Hand. One more will just take my place.
 * Phase - I don't care about your politics or any of that bullshit. I'll kill you, and I'll die. Or I'll kill a hundred, and I'll die. That's the only way it ends.
 * Kurlos - Hmm.

Phase breathed in deeply, and ran forward, even as Kurlos opened fire into his chest and face, before swinging his left blade at Kurlos' chest, only for the Mendel warrior to nimbly dodge the attack and leap backwards. He opened fire five more times, as Phase merely stood there, unshaken.


 * Phase - Sorry, love, but that doesn't seem to work. Hit me with something with a little more punch.

Kurlos chuckled under his helmet, before giving his pistol a twirl, and holstering it. He reached behind himself with both hands, and pulled out two wicked looking blasters, the air filled with the shrill screech of the blasters charged and ready to fire. Kurlos aimed both, and fired, two purple-red bolts of energy screeching towards Phase's face and chest. He dodged the one headed towards his face, only for the second to burn right into his chest and give a small explosion. Phase coughed and gagged in surprise, as he looked down to find a blackened hole in his chest, the flesh and muscle burnt away, and the ribs left blackened and ashy.


 * Phase - This can't be...
 * Kurlos - Yes, it is, Disruptor Rounds. Perfect for disintegrating flesh, steel, troublesome objects, like yourself for example.
 * Phase - Bastard...

Phase stood straight, and prepared to fight on, only for Kurlos to fire two rounds at his feet. Phase jumped forward, aiming to stab Kurlos right through the head and chest, as the Ugandalorian fired six rounds from his guns, most of the rounds sizzling through the air and burning past him, as Kurlos backed away, Phase smashing into a table, and crushing it under his weight and power. Phase prepared to begin his attack again, only for a shot to ring out. He jumped out of the way, as the Kodalorian near the exit fired a round at him. Grunting in surprise, he prepared to regain his footing, only for Kurlos to fire two rounds at his right leg, practically burning the limb off.

Phase howled in pain as he slammed into the ground, his leg collapsing under him, and forcing him to take a knee, as the air burnt with the smell of sizzling flesh. He breathed in deeply as Kurlos stepped forward, aiming his gun right at Phase's forehead.


 * Kurlos - You are such a disappointment to our people. Now, swear your allegiance to the Lord of Retribution, or die here unremembered.
 * ??? - Bartender, can I get a class of water?

Everyone turned to a hooded, female Mendel sitting at a seat not far from them, tapping her claws on the table and leaving marks within it.


 * ??? - Do I have to ask again?

The bartender, not sure what to make of this, obediently turned and poured it out, preparing the large class and setting it on the counter. She stood up and approached, keeping her face covered as Kurlos and the others watched.


 * Kurlos - How did you get in here?
 * ??? - *points to the first Kodalorian at the door* Ask him.

Phase and Kurlos turned to see the first guard who was stationed at the door slumped over, with a knife plunged in the middle of his throat. Kurlos and Phase both gasped in shock, before both came to the realization of who they where dealing with.


 * Phase - Forbila...
 * Kurlos - Good, both of you here. I can kill two birds with one stone!
 * Forbila - It won't be the that easy, boy.

She flipped her hood off, and revealed her arrogant smile across her face, before tearing the rest of her disguise off to reveal her dark blue and grey armored form.


 * Kurlos - How do you plan on stopping me? You have no weapons?
 * Forbila - Are you sure?

Kurlos looked her over, before, realizing, all too late, what Forbila meant. With a flick of the wrist, the water shot out of the cup and zipped across the air, like a needle, and wrapped around Kurlos' wrist like a snake. As he pulled the trigger, the water gave a tug, directing his blast towards the second Kodalorian guard, gunning him down before he could attack Forbila. Desperate, the Ugandalorian turned his free wrist towards the one that was bound, and activated his flamethrower, trying to evaporate the water, as Phase-Hunter jumped to Forbila's side. A small part of the water escape, and Forbila sent this tiny dart of water towards Kurlos, nicking his neck.


 * Kurlos - Ha! You expect that little cut to harm me?

The blood trickled down, as Forbila smiled a little at him. She began rubbing her hands together, chuckling to herself.


 * Kurlos - What's so funny?
 * Forbila - You seem to have forgotten basic biology. Allow me to teach it to you!

Kurlos grunted in surprise as his own blood twisted and turned and warped around his neck, like the reddened tentacles of a sadistic, demonic squid.


 * Kurlos - But, Koatria of Blood have...you...You are not...
 * Forbila - That is correct, but blood does have water. and Water answers to me as much as your own hands answer to yours!

Phase lifted his wrist up, before slicing it with his blade, allowing a new trickle of blood to seep out, as Forbila reached out, and commanded it to wipe forward and around, and wrap around Kurlos' wrists, forcing him to drop his weapons. Phase's wrist sealed shut, as he sheathed his blades, and cracked his knuckles.


 * Phase - I could use a good punching bag today, to work off some of this anger.
 * Forbila - Swing for the fences, then.

Kurlos shook in terror as Phase slowly approached, the same dead look in his eyes now replaced with rage.


 * Phase - This will only hurt for a second.

Phase slammed a punch into Kurlos' helmet once, before pummeling Kurlos down with a barrage of punches, faster and stronger then what any normal human could muster. After, he grabbed him by the neck, as Forbila called off her "ropes" and, after shaking Kurlos for a bit, through him up and punched him right in the chest, sending him right through the roof. Forbila reached into her pocket, and took out a few thousand credits, and laid them on the bar.


 * Forbila - I'm glad I found you, Phase. Come on, I'm taking you with me.
 * Phase - Why?
 * Forbila - We're family, we stick together. Especially in rough times like this.
 * Phase - After everything that's happened, after how I've failed, I'm not sure I'm worthy of being part of your family any more...
 * Forbila - The Hand was not your fault. We will never everyone we can to resist him. You can either sit here, or do your part and end his reign of terror. But sitting here will help just as much as anything else.
 * Phase - I'm not sure I'm in much fighting shaping anymore. Afterall the shots I've taken.
 * Forbila - We can get you medical equipment. Some very good care. But we need to move quickly.
 * Phase - Just what's going on then?
 * Forbila - I've gotten a little group together, gathered a fleet from multiple clans and planets, hanging in Persan space now. I'll tell you the rest later.

The two moved towards the door, as Phase stumbled a bit, Forbila draping his arm over her shoulder, and carrying him a way.


 * Phase - So, are you leading this rebel movement?
 * Forbila - No, someone else is. I just advise.

Phase said nothing else as they made their escape, as, a few moments later, several Mendel warriors swarmed the area, trying to find them. Kurlos rose from where he had punted into, groaning to himself from all the cuts and broken bones he had. Wasting no time, he set the fracture in his right arm, then his left leg, cursing under his breath as he did so.


 * Kurlos - If it's the last thing I do, I'll destroy you both!

Meeting of Brothers
Ozarius groaned as he sat down on a seat in one of the Zarbanian Capital's mass transit systems. He liked Zarbania actually as it was one of few places he could go that didn't have a Darkling agent trying to jump him. Sure they were there, but the threat of ticking off Raidanax kept them from trying to approach, it was of the few places he could go where he wouldn't end up leaving a trail of blood. That being said the bureaucracy there could be absolutely frustrating to deal with, especially for someone used to having the freedom to go and act as he pleased in the depths of Rouge Space (lawless space owned by no one). As people began to filter in he notice most did their best to sit far away from him as possible. Not out of racism or prejudice, rather the fact that having a being that looked so much like their emperor so close was both awe inspiring and unsettling. Ozarius sighed and opened up the latest volume of The Trinity of Knights, a rather good book series he had just started reading, but had precious little time to do so.

Eventually he got so buried in the book that he barrly noticed the fact that the transport had arrived at his stop. He had to scramble to get off looking somewhat ridiculous with a book clutched in one hand and his bag under his chin as he squeezed out the rapidly closing doors. He stumbled and hit the pavement as the transport took off. Smiling sheepishly at the people staring at him, he quickly pick himself up and head off in the streets leading up the Zarbanian Capital Building. Upon reaching it he stopped by the entrance to speak to the two guards manning the gate.


 * Ozarius - Ozarius, here to see Emperor Gridlock.
 * Guard 1 - Hold one moment.

He lowered his head for a moment, as if listening to a song of some sort, before raising his head again to look at Ozarius.


 * Guard 1 - The Emperor is pleased you are here. Continue onwards, he is in his office. Do you know the way?
 * Ozarius - I have a map somewhere, now let me see...

He began rummaging around in his bag muttering to himself, but he couldn't find his map. It was only when a fluffy white and fanged head, with a scrap of colored paper hanging from its jaws, poked its way out of all the junk did he realize what had happened to his map.


 * Ozarius - Hurr, you ate my map!

He pount a scolding fingure at the creature which simply took a swip at his hand with unsheathed claws. Ozarius quickly withdrew his hand and turned back to the guards.


 * Ozarius - Heh, heh, sorry, but I'm afraid I don't.
 * Guard 1 - *nonplussed* No problem, Lord Ozarius.

He pressed a button on his wrist, activating a nearby droid, which floated over to their position, and, after a moment, printed a device. The guard took it, and, with the press of a button, revealed a holographic map with a red dot.


 * Guard 2 - That is our lord's position.
 * Guard 1 - Hopefully, your pet does not decide to make a meal of that. Good tidings, sir.
 * Ozarius - Uh, yeah good tidings.

Signing to himself again he set off through the gate and into the main building. Even with the map he got turned around a few times both by his own insatiable curiosity and forgetting to look at the map together. Eventually though he found his way to Gridlock's office and knocked on the door.


 * Gridlock - Come in.

Ozarius opened the door and entered into the office, a lavish, but surprisingly simple room, filled with star maps, and various works of art, the finest Zarbania could offer, of some of it's greatest minds, including a small portrait of Ridanax himself. There was a musical instrument and stand in the corner of the room, away from Gridlock's large, overly crowded desk. The larger Dragon-like beast rose from his seat, his eyes weary, but a smile beaming across his face.


 * Gridlock - Brother, it is good to see you again.
 * Ozarius - Good to see you to. Sorry if I'm late... errr how late am I exactly?
 * Gridlock - Doesn't matter. I got all the time in the world for you, little brother.
 * Ozarius - Right, so what do you have for me to do this time?

His eyes lite up and he leaned forward a bit.


 * Ozarius - Treasure hunting perhaps?!
 * Gridlock - Far more important then that.
 * Ozarius - *slightly disappointed* Oh. Well then what is it?

Gridlock sat back at his desk, and beckoned Ozarius to take a seat in front of him. As he sat down, Gridlock began.


 * Gridlock - You've heard of the new revolution that's hit the Mendel Pact now, haven't you?

Ozarius shook his head.


 * Ozarius - I've been underground mostly, rummaging through old temples and tombs. That kinda stuff.
 * Gridlock - A dangerous new leader is active, ready to take on most of the galaxy if they do not bend their knee to him. Even though his target is the Xonexi, I fear he will reignite a war with Zarbania once more. i have seen enough war tear through my people, and I don't want any more of it for a good long while. That's why I've called you here.
 * Ozarius - You want me to help take him out?
 * Gridlock - I would trust no one else but you. You are the one brother I trust to carry this out. Will you do it?
 * Ozarius - Yeah sure, though what happened to the Mendel Highlords?
 * Gridlock - He killed two of them. The third, I do not know. This Hand of Retribution, as he calls himself, will not stop unless his head is removed.
 * Ozarius - Oh dear. Alright then where shall I go first. I'm just going to be storming the Mendel gates. Well IT could, but I'd rather not let IT out.
 * Gridlock - Understood, brother. I do not have his location and all, but he's not in the Palace of Ugandalore. He's moved elsewhere. However, I think someone else may have the answers you need.
 * Ozarius - Alright then who?
 * Gridlock - Barda Clett's wife did not take this lying down. She organized Clans, loyal to Barda, or simply against the Hand's insanity, and has united them within Persan space. I have sent her weapons and supplies to a neutral location. I can send you to one of those locals, and tell her I am sending an assassin to accompany her forces briefly. Once you're with her, she can tell you where The Hand is hidden.
 * Ozarius - Right.

Persan space that was good. He could move through there fairly unnoticed and if any one got a good look at him... well Persa was filled with all shorts of oddities, another wouldn't really stand out that much.


 * Ozarius - I'll get going then. Hopefully while be able to stop this Hand before the violence escalates. Farewell brother, may your path take you far.
 * Gridlock - Thank you, stay safe. Our family needs more like you, little brother.

Ozarius nodded and proceeded to leave the room. Rummaging through his bag again he found the Hurr had eaten the holographic map device. Facepalming he made his to the Capital's exit, getting lost a few more times along the way.

A Blade of Blood and Tears
Kirta leaned back in her personal dropship, sighing as she flew out to the coordinates her mother had sent her. So much to be done yet, and Kirta wasn't sure she wanted anything to do with it. She was still bitter about the loss of her father. Still hated the people who had lead to this. But there was nothing she could do, not without support, an army behind her. She scratched her head as she thought about what she needed to do. She had such a long way to go, to make it to her little scout group.


 * Kirta - Time to ride like the wind.

She guided the controls and set the ship to overdrive, as she played some music to pass the time. She had to curse her uncle. His taste in such odd, flamboyant music had rubbed off on her.


 * Kirta - Damn it Uncle Wilson.

She sighed again, before setting course again. She had places to be.

Deep in the lowest depth of the second level of Accel Space, drifting among twisted flotsam and balls of fire, the Reaper-class stealth/ant-hyperspace cruiser Piercing Blade made its way deep into Mendel Space. The cruiser was performing its job admirably having slipped entirely under the radar. Deep within however things were a little less peaceful. Forterra sat at the end of long obsidian meeting table with various glyphs and images from Trahoxi mythology inlaid with gold and emeralds. It was a gift from her father a she brought it with her wherever she went, or at least tried to, as it had several other functions beyond being just a table. Currently though it was just acting as a table. Across from her sat the mysterious being who called himself the master gently tapping his figure on the table.


 * Forterra - So, about what you promised to tell me?
 * Master - Ah yes what was that again?

Forterra signed, she could sense great power in this... well whatever he was, and he spoke with great wisdom. However somethings he was rather forgetful.


 * Forterra - About Ravh. Why was she kept in that cathedral with you all?
 * Master - Ah yes, little Ravh. Well you see Ravh is something we like to call a Cybrid.

Forterra sat up bolt upright at this revelation her mouth hanging agape.


 * Forterra - You mean?!
 * Master - Indeed, Ravh is a being entirely made of biomechanical nano bots, animated by a mind that is neither entirely natural only entirely artificial.
 * Forterra - But the only known Cybrids up to this date are...
 * Master - Akanri Rosu Izeira and her descendants. Ravh is refined variation on what they are. Think of Akanri and her daughters and granddaughters as prototypes put in place so the nano bots could perfect their craft. A design they perfected in Akanri's daughter Ibari, though they were slow to recognize due to accumulated junk data created by Ibari, then streamlined and replicated to create Ravh in order to facilitate the next step in Persan autoevolution.

Forterra sat back considering the implications of this when a message came through the nano machine implanted in her ear.


 * Forterra - What?!
 * Bridge Bunny - Sorry ma'am, but we just detected a lone Mendel ship. Should we shoot it?
 * Forterra - Hold your fire. When I get up there open up communications.
 * Bridge Bunny - Roger.

Forterra stood up growling in agitation. First a Cybrid and now this, her world was getting a lot bigger then perhaps she'd have liked. She ran up to the bridge, and made a motion to one of the bridge bunnies. With a gesture from his hands, the projector screen activated, and a female Mendel's face appeared on scene.


 * Kirta - Hold your fire! This is Kirta Clett, daughter of Barda Clett. I am not a threat to you.
 * Forterra - Alright, hold crew. I am Commander Forterra, What are you doing here.
 * Kirta - Mother sent me coordinates in Persan space, meet there and all that. You know, that sort of thing.
 * Forterra - Hmm. Yeah, A secret Mendel gathering of rebel Clans, my leaders told me about this. You leading it?
 * Kirta - *Coldly* No, just helping.
 * Forterra - Come on board then, we can refuel your ship if you like.
 * Kirta - Thanks

The screen closed off, as Kirta brought her ship around and flew towards the Persan hangar, fixing her gauntlets across her hands before bringing her gunship into a landing position. With that, she grabbed her helmet, and palced it beneath her left arm, before marching out to meet the Commander who greeted her. The Mendel warrior stepped off her gunship, and was greeted by the Persan from earlier.


 * Kirta - Forterra was it?
 * Forterra - Yes, Clett. My master wants to speak with you personally.
 * Kirta - What for?
 * Forterra - *sighs* Just come along.

Kirta grunted a bit, but followed anyway, and, with her friend, tapped her side arm to make it was holstered and ready. Recent events had, obviously, made her jumpy and uneasy as of late. Even if the Persan where friends, she didn't want to risk life and limb on that. Forterra led Kirta down the halls of the Stealthship until they came to a pair of ornatly guilded doors. Forterra turned around to face Kirta before speaking.


 * Forterra - He's through there.
 * Kirta - Who exactly? Or am I not allowed to ask. Surprise and all that?
 * Forterra - If I knew I'd tell ya. He calls himself the Master, but beyond that I really have no idea. I just met him myself only a few days ago. Him and that Cybrid.
 * Kirta - Hmm, sounds alright. I'vee been in tricker situations. Let's go right in.

Forterra opened the door into a cosy little room with a fire place burning away, shelves lined with several books, and large painting of a gothic city with a twisted pillar in the back ground and a giant moon hanging from the sky suspended by what looked like a spider's web. In another corner sat the Master in an arm chair with his face still caste in shadows by his hat. Closing the book he was reading titled "Ahreal Kyag oy Paoandr", he stood up to greet the two.


 * The Master - Ah you must be Kirta Clett if I'm not mistaken.
 * Kirta - Yep, in the flesh.
 * The Master - Very good, well straight to he point then. I'm here to present you with an offer, a weapon that will assit you taking your revenge against the usuper that killed your father. Intrested?
 * Kirta - Hmmm. You know how to catch a girl's attention. What kind of weapon?
 * The Master - Indeed, however the weapon has yet to exist. Or rather it exists in a state that would be of no use to you. It will need to be forged.

He turned his back to them and pulled from its sheath a jagged sword carved from some blood red crystal.


 * The Master - This is an Asterdermis blade. With the right components its formula can be altered making it into a weapon that can destroy nearly anything with the lightest of touches.
 * Kirta - Lovely.
 * The Master - We will need to go to a special place to do so though. Tell me do you know the name of capital world of the UPD?
 * Kirta - Yeaaah.
 * The Master - Oh really now? What if I told you its right there.

With that he pointed to the painting in the corner of the room.


 * Kirta - Well, I know it's Alastor, I just...kinda got mixed up is all. You guys didn't always live there.
 * The Master - Heh, Alastor is a central world, but the true capital is a secrete known to only a few, your father being one of them, the true capital is that painting itself.
 * Kirta - ...Are you pulling my lag? Like, the painting is the capital?
 * The Master - Indeed, shall I show you?
 * Kirta - Yeah, I need to see to believe it.
 * The Master - And so you shall.

Walking over to the painting he pulled a tiny golden key from a pocket on his jacket and held it to the painting. The moment the key touched the painting's surface the canvas rippiled like water and the Master step right on through. From the other side his voice echoed.

Stepping foward, she hiestantly reached out to touch the canvas, her fingers dipping into it's surface. A little surprised, she stepped forward and walked right through it. She stepped out into the maasive gothic city potrayed in the painting, but bussiling with activity. The moon hung in the sky suspended by what looked to be a spider's wed which droplits of light danced in between the permanent night sky. In the distance she could see the pillar, a twisted dark tower composed of stone carvings of various alien shapes that obsidian erupted from. from within the tower came a fiery glow that erupted out the top.
 * The Master - Come along now, no sense in dillydallying.
 * Kirta - Alright then...
 * The Master - Welcome Kirta Clett to Zyus.
 * Kirta - *gulps* Yeah...Damn. Just...how did you do all this?
 * The Master - We found it actually. Whoever created this was far older then the Persacron, the Multus Esse, or any civilization we currently know of. In anycase that pillar in the distance is our destination. The Pillar of the Fall, and at its top is the Formulaic Forge, where we'll transmute your sword. Are you ready?
 * Kirta - As ready as I'll ever be.
 * The Master - Good then let us be off.

Eventually the two reached the bottum of the pillar and the Master turned to Kirta. Strenching out his form twisted and expanded becoming something made of shadow with great bat-like wings, glowing white eyes and smile, and the whole of the night sky painted across its very being.


 * The Master - Now you see my true form, a creature of the night, do you still wish to countinue?
 * Kirta - Gone this far, no sense running now.
 * The Master - Very good, now when you plunge that blade into the forge you will see, hear, smell, touch, and taste things. Tell no one of what you experiance, it is not for them to know. Do I make myself clear?
 * Kirta - Sure. I can keep a secret.
 * The Master - Very well then, let us be off.

The two climed up the twisted stone staircase carved into the the figures that composed the pillar before reaching the firey orange peak. Energy spat and bubbled from the pillar's depths in ways it should not and both felt an intense force viberating throughout their bodies.


 * The Master - Now plunge the bade into the forge and be prepared, what will come next may be a shock.
 * Kirta - *summons a bit of elemental electricity from her finger* Nothing can really shock me. Heh, but alright.

Taking the blade she plunged it into the forge. In a split second her vision was gone and she could see nothing, not even darkness. From this nothing a voice reverberated out.

You see now what our enemy desires to come to fruition, we must not let it come to pass.

Then she felt a great heat and something that felt like touching the sun scoop her out a deposite her on a golden beach. Looking up she saw a massive, crimson being in the shape of a Nyrosaur looking down at her. Then it spoke to her in a voice that sounded like the rumble of distant thunder and she felt the air around her change from hot to cold as it spoke.


 * Jura - Your lucky little one, any longer and there would have been nothing of you left to save.
 * Kirta - Are you...Jura, the Vanara God?
 * Jura - Yes, your version of me anyway. The trappings of physical form mean nothing to me. In anycase may I ask why your here, your clearly not dead?
 * Kirta - I got this blade thing I gotta forge. I'm not really sure I have time to communicate the whole thing. But It can totally destroy souls and stuff, so...yeah. That's what I'm doing here.
 * Jura - Ah, a Vorpalium blade. While it can't destroy souls, most physical things will fall before it. I see the Master is up to his schemes again. In any case...

The Fire Dragon turned and nodded towards a gateway.


 * Jura - What you seek is in the Core of Accel Space. Where you are at is the boarder to the afterlife of your people, the Persan, and few others. Go through that gate to the Oversoul, then past that to Eros, the Persan afterlife, in the center you will find the Core. Return here when you have completed your task, I will return you to once you came, and do not be afraid of taking your time, time is distorted here and I can return you a few minutes after you left.
 * Kirta - Alright, sounds good. Do you know what exactly I'll see going in?
 * Jura - That depends on your view of things. The only thing I can say is that you will see where all good souls find rest.
 * Kirta - Ok. Off I go then.

She stepped through the gateways, giving Jura once last uncertain look, before stepping through. The energy around her changed slightly, yet remained the same. It was difficult to describe, but something had changed around her. It felt welcoming to say the least, however. Opening her eyes, she looked around to see a massive city complex, and complex was the only word that could truly describe. The great city had a rustic feel, it's smaller buildings and dwelling looking like medieval forts or the like, while the larger building near the center and the like was built like the buildings in Matrukoris, large and imposing, futuristic as ever, but impossibly ancient. She walked forward a little, before three Mendel warriors materialized in front of her.


 * Mendel Warrior - Halt! What is an infiltrator doing here in the Oversoul?
 * Kirta - I'm not here to cause any trouble, I'm just on my way to get a job down.
 * Mendel Warrior 2 - She does not appear corrupted. She bears no mark. Your name, stranger?
 * Kirta - Kirta Clett.
 * Mendel Warrior 2 - You are a descendant of the same Great Clan, correct?
 * Kirta - Yes.
 * Mendel Warrior - Would you then, like to meet your ancestors.
 * Kirta - Like Cadus Clett?
 * Mendel Warrior - Of Course, follow us. He is in the Great Hall.

She followed behind them, readjusting her armor a bit as she cracked her neck a bit nervously. She wasn't sure if she had time for a family reunion at a time like this, but it never hurt to stop and breath for a few seconds. They made their way to the massive Longhouse at the center of the great city, the three stopping as one opened the door.


 * Mendel Warrior 3 - This is your buisness, High Queen. We will leave you be.
 * Kirta - Thanks.

She stepped inside, to see a rustic, olden diner table dominating the place, with great tankers full of what she was 99% sure was alcohol, and the place was lite by torches of golden flame. And there, sitting at the table, where two Mendel Warriors, one of them she almost mistook for Barda himself. The first was massive, even by Mendel standards, tall and powerfully-built. He was dressed in golden armor of an ancient variety, while the one next to him was strongly built, but more wiry and less beefy, and dressed in Sliver and blue armor.

The one in golden armor stood to greet her, taking off his helmet to reveal a rather familar face, yet very different. A number of scars cut across his face and chin, but it did nothing to ruin his warm smile.


 * Cadus - Are you, Kirta Clett? One of my descendants.
 * Kirta - *stepping forward a bit* Maybe. Your Cadus right? The one built like an ox?

Cadus laughed as he pulled her into a massive hug. Despite almost crushing her, she did feel safe, the warm scent of Nuta'gal and armor polish relaxing her, as she returned the hug. He pulled her away, and held her by the shoulders to get a good look.


 * Cadus - I see your inheritated Sarus' sharp tongue. It is good to know you all turned out so strong and well.
 * Kirta - Th..thank you. I've always wanted to talk to you.
 * Cadus - Indeed. *turns* Reago! Stand son, our family is here!

Kirta turned to see the other one stand, rather hiestantly. His features where eerily similar to her father's, but far colder and stoic. Despite, he approached and held out a hand, which Kirta took, rather surprised by his approach, before he pulled her into a half-hug of sorts.


 * Reago - I..I never lived to see my Grand-children. I...I'm very proud.
 * Kirta - I'm proud to share your blood. Dad says a lot of good things about you.
 * Reago - I was worried...I did some things I'm not proud of, as High King...and as a father.
 * Kirta - Whatever happened at the end of your life is not your fault. Dad grew up well. He just had some...help from strange sources.
 * Reago - He's raised you well. I wish I could tell him he was a better father then I ever was.
 * Kirta - He's here, right?
 * Cadus - We would've known. In the Oversoul, we are all one, even warriors like us who guard against intrusion.
 * Kirta - *Setting her jaw angerily* Then why isn't my father here?! What did he do to not get in here?!

Cadus layed a hand on her shoulder, strong but reasuring.


 * Cadus - Listen, Kirta, we do not know, but I know for certain no descendant of mine would not make it into the Oversoul. Please, just remain calm.
 * Kirta - Right...Right. Sorry.
 * Cadus - It is not an issue. So what are you here for?
 * Kirta - I have this blade I need to forge. It can destroy souls...
 * Reago - Matter, not souls.
 * Kirta - Whatever, and it's going to help me destroy the Hand, the guy who killed my father.
 * Cadus - Be calm when you go forth. Carry not a trace of that anger with you. Just do what must be done.
 * Kirta - Sure thing.
 * Reago - You must go now. You've spoken with the dead and seen the past, now the future awaits.

Kirta nodded and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.


 * Kirta - Grand-pa, we all turned out all right, me and my brother, because Daddy learned from you. He learned from the best.
 * Reago - *wipes away tears from his right eye* Thank you. Go, make me proud. Again.

Cadus stopped Kirta for a moment to look at her face for a moment.


 * Cadus - You inherited Sarus' beutiful eyes as well as her strength and inner-resolve. It's in your blood to not give up. Go forth. Make your forefathers proud.
 * Kirta - Thanks. I'm happy to have meet you both. Happy beyond words.
 * Cadus - We're both happy to have seen where our blood lead to. Now go, or else none of us will want to leave!

Kirta gave a kurt nod before marching towards the door, turning back only to give them one last wave, before departing forever, the last thing she saw, was the proud smiles on both Cadus and Reago's faces. It filled her with determination, but slightly frightened her. Where was her father? Why wasn't he here where he belonged? She brushed those thoughts aside as she walked along the streets of the Oversoul and out of another gate.

As she left it the energy changed once again. This one was slightly alien and off, but at the same time brought with a serene and soothing feel. Exiting the gate she looked about her to see a great garden filled with a managerie of brilliantly colored trees, flowers, and other planet life. The entire thing was lite with moon light that felt warm like the light of the sun. Streams ran troughout along with crisscrossing stone walk ways, great statues, and various other victorian structures and ordaments. The whole place, while dark, felt serene, peaceful, and dream-like walking down the path she noticed shinny, moth-like creatures flitting to and fro. Even stranger she noticed the whole place was singing a soft, slightly haunting lullaby. Continuing onward she stop to see a dance of several Persan souls in a meadow. One of them, a brown furred Vanara female with brilliant green eyes and wearing a purple dress came over.


 * ??? - Hello there who are you?
 * Kirta - I am Kirta Clett. Can..ah, you tell me where I am?
 * ??? - This is Eros the Persan afterlife, or rather our region of it.... Oh but where are my manners, I'm Ywi the grandmother of your brother's teacher Niyra.
 * Kirta - Really? Gods, I'm meeting a lot of people today.
 * Ywi - *sadly* A lot of people die. In anycase how is my granddaughter as a teacher, do you know?
 * Kirta - Pretty well. He's a lot less whiny these days. Heh, well, she's done a great job. Given him a lot of direction.
 * Ywi - I'm glade to here. Jura comes through here every so often with reports, but he's terribly inconssitent about it. Oh, but now I'm just pratteling on. Based on that sword in your hand I's say your here to forge a Vorpalium blade correct?
 * Kirta - Yeah, the one that destroys souls.
 * Ywi - Oh no, a meer metal would not be granted that terrible power, but I imagine you've been told that before. *sigh* In anycase I will take you where you need to go, fllow me now dear.

With that Ywi set off talking about nothing in particular until they reached another gate. The smallest and plainest of them all.


 * Ywi - Through there is the Core of Accel Space and what you seek will be found within.
 * Kirta - The core? Alrighty then. I'll get to work then.
 * Ywi - Do try to be polite while in there. She can get a bit testy.

Before Kirta could ask who she was Ywi waved goodbye and walked off back into the garden. Puzzeled Kirta walked through the final gate. The energy she felt here was an accmulation of all she had felt before and some had not felt. Stepping from the gate she arrived in a round room with a black and red cheackered floor, and stuffed animals linning the walls. Standing in the center was a women wearing a long, flowing white dress that was as pale as her ghostly, doll-like skin. The women's hair reached down to her heels, flared out, and was raven black. The women then looked at Kirta who saw that her irises were red and her pupils were white while her sclera was pitch black. The women gave off a motherly if powerful and somewhat frightenning vibe.


 * ??? - Hello there, I'm the Intention of Will, and you are?
 * Kirta - Kirta Clett, Daughter of Barda Clett.
 * Intention of Will - Ah, one who has been born, but not yet died. Tell me what is your purpose for coming here?
 * Kirta Clett - I'm here to forge a Vorpalium Blade, it's said to be able to destroy sou...important stuff.

At this the Intention of Will frowned and Kirta felt a ripple of power come from it that shook her at her very soul.


 * Intention of Will - You almost said souls. *dangerously low* Dear child, do you dare presume I would grant more or less even use such a henious power? I cannot nor ever would destroy a soul, there a things that no matter the crime no one deserves. I can punish, but total and absolute destruction I will not indulge in.
 * Kirta - *Scared slightly* Ah, sorry! I just get a little mixed up sometimes, y'know? Heh heh.

The Intention of Will pulled back slightly and laughed a little herself. A low chuckle with no real warmth. Then she held out her hand.


 * Intention of Will - Give me the blade, I will grant your request.

Kirta handed it over trembling slightly. Taking it in her hands the Intention of Will plunged the blade deep into her own womb. Blood flowed down the blade turning to black and staining the once completely red blade with intracet dark patterns. The Intention of Will then pulled the blade out and her wound healed right back up.


 * Intention of Will - Take it and used to wisely. You have a great potential Kirta Clett I saw it when your soul first came into existence and I set it to Barda and Forbilla knowing they could nuture that potential.
 * Kirta - Thank you. Say, your an expert on souls right?
 * Intention of Will - Only one kind in particular, most species do not have your kind of soul though. But what is it?
 * Kirta - Do you know what happened to my father after he died?
 * Intention of Will - No, but he is not gone and he has not come to me for judgement. He maybe much closer then you realize though.
 * Kirta - Closer? Alright then. I like a good mystery. Thank you for everything. Including my whole birth and all that. I'll see you...much later hopefully.
 * Intention of Will - I hope so to. Now my child, run along Jura is waiting outside to take you back.

Kirta left quickly walking out to see the Fire Dragon standing in the garden. Strangely nothing burned around him, rather everything's growth seemed accelerated.


 * Jura - How did it go?
 * Kirta - Good. I meet my Grand Father, my Great-Grand Father, and the lady who handled my soul and stuff. Nice stuff.
 * Jura - It is a wonderful place. A far cry from the Void would have made it given the chance. But that's another tale to tell.

The Fire Dragon then jerk his head towards his back.


 * Jura - Hop on. I will take you back. There's a future to save now isn't there?
 * Kirta - Alright, let's do this.

She clambered on board and Jura roared before taking off. Flying high the two left the afterlife behind them. That was the past the future was ahead.

A Son of Shadows
Ozarius was lost again, this was nothing new for him as he tended to get lost a lot. However, this time it was proving to be especially distressing as he actually had an intact map in his hand, Hurr had not decided to go munching on this one.


 * Ozarius - *sigh* I really am hopeless aren't I? The one time my Cazard decides not to munch down on my map and I still get turned around.

With nothing better coming to mind Ozarius decided to consult the map and look for land marks to give him some sort of idea regarding where he was. Unfortunately for him he was stuck in a residential area where all the buildings looked exactly alike. Sighing he shoved the map back in his bag before looking down at the white reptile nestled within.


 * Ozarius - Eat it if you want, it's not doing me any good.

The Cazard stretched out its neck to go sniff the paper. After nudging it for a bit the reptile simply burbled and curled up going quickly back to sleep. Ozarius race palmed and groaned at this.


 * Ozarius - Of all the times now is when you decide your not hungry? How could this day get any worse?
 * ??? - Excuse me young man, but are you looking for the Mendel Reclaimers?

Ozarius spun around dragon blade in hand to be met with a figure in a suit with his face obscured by a top hat. Lowering his guard Ozarius' eyes narrowed as he growled suspiciously.


 * Ozarius - Why do you want to know?
 * ??? - Ah forgive me, I'm an agent of theirs. Here's my credentials.

Ozarius looked at the card the figure held up and it seemed legit. He relaxed and sheathed his blade.


 * Ozarius - Uh yeah I'am looking for them. You see I'm an assassin sent by Lord Gridlock to help them.
 * ??? - I figured as much, in that case let me mark out a trail for you on that map of yours. I'd lead you myself, but I have an errand to run.

Ozarius handed over his map and the mysterious figure began marking the thing in a pen. After he was done the figure handed the map back to Ozarius.


 * ??? - There you go, fallow that line and it will lead you to where you need to go.
 * Ozarius - Thanks, but I never got your name?
 * ??? - Names mean little to me, just call me that Master if we ever meet again. Ta ta now.

The figure then turned and walked off into the dark city waving nonchalantly back at Ozarius. Ozarius stared after him before shaking his head and setting off. He got turned around a few more times, but eventually he made it to the secrete military base the Reclaimers where apparently hiding away in. He knocked on the door and heard the sound of heavy footsteps from the other side of the door. After a moment he heard locks being undone and the door swung open. Ozarius stepped forward to introduce himself and was greeted by an unfriendly looking Mendel women sticking a chainsaw to his throat.


 * Ozarius - Oh, that's how this day could get worse.

He was escorted in by the Sword-Yielding Ugandalorian and two other Ugandalorian warriors, one in purple and green armor, the other in blue armor, with a red flame design. The two pointed their rifles at his head, as their leader joined the others, another female Ugandalorian, who resembled the other, but looked much younger, a human who looked like he had survived being skinned alive, with cybernetics allover his form, and a heavily armored Persan. They all looked up him up and down, as the human turned to the Ugandalorian.


 * Phase - Forbila, what is this?
 * Forbila - He claims to be an assassin sent by Gridlock himself. I don't know however.
 * Kirta - He does look like him.
 * Forbila - Don't be so trusting. The Dark One planted his progeny in plenty of women, for them to claw out of when they where done. I heard of one who was a petty thief in one of the outer colonies.
 * Phase - So, the Dark One has a lot of kiddies then?

Forbila turned to them, hefting her chainsword across her shoulders.


 * Forbila - Yeah, and most of them are damn near psychotic. Gridlock is about as close as you get to sane.
 * Forterra - Then let's start interrogating him. Have him spill his guts, or he'll actually spill them!

Ozarius' eyes widened in shock, as he opened his mouth to speak, before Phase-Hunter raised his hands up.


 * Phase - Now wait here. I know we have little reason to trust his kind, but, have you thought, perhaps, maybe, just maybe, he's telling the truth?
 * Kirta - I don't know. Gridlock was nice enough to send me a hammer and information to go along my merry way, but an assassin?
 * Forbila - *points at Ozarius* We're weakened now. We're divided. The Dark One stands to gain from wiping out any leaders that could possibly bring peace.
 * Phase - And yet he got caught. Aren't most Darkling agents master manipulators? Able to sneak in and kill you with any noticing? He's a creature of shadow, why would he walk through the front door?
 * Forterra - Phase, I think you're being way to trusting here. This creature is dangerous. Like Forbila said, Gridlock is closest one to being sane, and he tried to conquer the galaxy.
 * Phase - After his people where bombed.

The group began to argue amongst themselves, and, with two Ugandalorians of a particular aggressive attitude, the arguments got quite spirited very quickly.

Rose was trying to get to sleep, emphasis on the word trying. Forbila, Kirta, Phase Hunter, and Forterra hand been on a back on forth with a rather hapless sounding stranger who seemed to have just come to realize that he was in way over his head. The four downstairs seemed convinced the newcomer was a Darkling agent trying to infiltrate them. In Rose's opinion this was ridiculous, she had met Darkling servants and they were convincing and didn't let their credentials be eaten by their Cazard. Growling she decided now to do something about this. Getting up of her bed she walked over to chest and began rummaging around. Grinning an evil looking grin, she pulled out a golden chain attached to a gilded collar.


 * Rose - Now for the fun bit.

Opening her door and walking down the stairs Rose saw a golden, Draconic being about her age, maybe a little older looking as though he might pass out as he faced down the four very hostile beings standing in front of him. Rose scoffed, yep defiantly not a Darkling servant. Storming her way down the rest of the steps, hands on her hips, Rose barged into the group.


 * Rose - What in Hoorangiir's blood soaked dick is going on here!?

Everyone turned in shock, both because of they hadn't seen Rose come down and because of the unexpected, yet creative, foul language. Kirta was the first to recover and respond.


 * Kirta - This supposed assassin sent by Gridlock showed up. We believe he's actually one of the Dark One's servants, he sure looks like one of that bastard's sons.

Rose made a show of critically looking Ozarius up and down before replying.


 * Rose - Riiight, well regardless he is responsible for disrupting my sleep so in order to repay me he shall become my manservant!
 * Forbila, Kirta, Forterra, and Phase - What!?
 * Ozarius - Huh?

However, Rose had already looped the collar around Ozarius' neck and was proceeding to yoink him upstairs.


 * Rose - Come along now manservant.
 * Ozarius - Yes miss... wait... ahhhh!

Forbila, Kirta, and Forterra watched the two go in stunned silence. Phase on the other hand had only one thing to say.


 * Phase Hunter - Damn, kinky.

Forbila rubbed her forehead, as Rose dragged Ozarius away, not sure what to think anymore. Phase smirked a bit, as he leaned back in his seat.


 * Phase - Well, looks like our favorite "manservant" is here to stay.
 * Forbila - Shut up Phase.
 * Phase - Let's just contact Gridlock. That's what was I trying to say, before you two started yelling about cutting his head off...and other things.
 * Forbila - What can I say, I think a Darkling servant shows up, I get spirited.

Kirta sighed, and went over to the communications projector, before inputting a special code. After a while, the machine whirred to life and, after a few minutes of loading, contacted Emperor Gridlock. The being appeared in front of them, and shifted to get a better look at them.


 * Gridlock - How goes the campaign, High Queen?
 * Kirta - Yeah, we got a little guy who kinda looks like you claiming you sent him to help. This true?
 * Gridlock - You mean Ozarius, golden scales and all? My little brother?

Kirta bite her lip slightly as Phase mouthed to Forbila "To you so". The Warrior merely gave him a threatening gesture, as Kirta signaled for the two to stop.


 * Kirta - So, is he a servant of the Darklings at all, connected to them in anyway past bloodlines?
 * Gridlock - *Eyes narrow* You thought he was an infiltrator right?
 * Kirta - Maybe...
 * Gridlock - I assure you, Ozarius hates my father as much as your kind does. *Voice becomes dangerously low* You did not kill him, did you?
 * Kirta - No.
 * Gridlock - Good, because your movement would've had much bigger problems to worry about then. Good day.

With that, he closed the communications, as the four turned back to look at one another.


 * Forterra - Atleast we avoided a war.
 * Phase - I'll drink to that. Anyone else?
 * Forbila - I would, but after hearing about one of the God's "bloody dick", I'm not sure I can drink.

Kirta facepalmed as she tried to move on mentally to the next order of business.

Rose dragged Ozarius in with the collar and then closed the door. She then turned around and beamed at him.


 * Rose - Nice trick I played there with the collar and all.
 * Ozarius - Oh yeah than... wait what?

Rose grinned even wider and laughed a little before regaining her composure and continuing.


 * Rose - You see I knew you were no Darkling servant, but that those four weren't going to listen to me. So I pulled something so shocking that there was no way they were going to stop me!

Ozarius blinked for a moment processing what he just heard. After mulling it around in his head for awhile the only thing he could come up with is that it made sense. This realization was a rather depressing one.


 * Rose - My name's Rose by the way whats yours?
 * Ozarius - Good to meet you Rose, I'm Ozarius.

Rose smiled at him again and Ozarius found himself smiling back. However...


 * Ozarius - Uh, Rose?
 * Rose - Yeah?
 * Ozarius - Could you get this collar off me?
 * Rose - Awww, but I think it looks good on you.
 * Ozarius - Really? I mean it is a very nice collar and...

Ozarius sighed realizing what he had just walked himself into again.

Several lightyears away Rexsuta sneezed. Taking out a handkerchief he grumbled as he blew his nose.


 * Rexsuta - Why does it feel like my name was invoked in particularly profane curse word?

The Buildup
Kirta sat on a basic chair in her war council room, looking over the various Clan Chieftains that had gathered their forces to her side. They where a motely band of warriors, Ugandalorians, humans, Kadalians, and a variety of other Mendel races. All of them where dressed in the heavy armor of the Pact, but each designed and painted differently. The Chieftains looked around sternly, waiting for the meeting to begin. Months had gone by, Clans finding their way onto the Reclaimer's fold. While The Hand strengthened his hold, the more rebellious Clans began to drift towards Kirta's rulership, even if she did not welcome it. Finally, she looked up all the gathered leaders, eyes darting back and forth.


 * Kirta - Are we ready to begin?
 * Draiiud - The Clans are gathered, we await only your word.
 * Kirta - Good, so I can assume we all what the same thing?
 * Clan Lords - Aye!
 * Kirta - The Death of the Hand of Retribution.
 * Clan Lord 1 - What is our course of action? Even with such power at our hands, most Clans, be it in fear or actual loyalty, answer to him. What should we do.
 * Kirta - Simple, I'm gonna unite the Mendel once more.
 * Clan Matriarch - What do you mean...?

Kirta stood up, and planted her sword in the table.


 * Kirta - The Ruins Hand, Dead Watch, any others, I'm gonna unite them, and with them all under our command, I'm gonna set them loose on the Hand of Retribution.
 * Clan Lord 2 - Such a thing cannot be done! They are different from us to truly ever be unified again.
 * Clan Lord 3 - Where even to start. Dead Watch and it's cells of scattered to the wind ever since the defeat of the Proditkar Movement. They are the last hold out.
 * ??? - Then perhaps we could be of assistance?

The Lords and Kirta looked to see a thin, lightly armored Ugandalorian enter the room, seemingly from out of no where. The being's armor and flight suit was all manner of different colors, greens and reds splashing across white and black. Kirta rose to meet the individual, who gracefully stepped over, moving unnaturally fast for a Ugandalorian.

He grabbed a chair from the far corner of the room, flipped it in the air, leapt up, grabbed it, and set it down, all without creating too loud a sound. With that, he gave a small, mock bow to Kirta.


 * ??? - I am Renarch Zenich, I am one of the Servants of the Laughing God.

The Clan lords murmured amongst themselves at this strange individual, questioning such a thing. The servants of the Laughing God where rare, but important sightings among the Clans. For such individuals to make themselves known, was saved for only the most important events.


 * Kirta - What do the servants of the Laughing God want?
 * Renarch - Our loyalty is to the true High Lord of the Mendel Pact. That is why we come to you.
 * Kirta - So, your loyal to the Hand?
 * Renarch - I will repeat. We are loyal to the true High Lord, that would be you. Not the Hand.
 * Kirta - *slowly sit back down* Then what do you have to offer?

Renarch reached behind him, and pulled out a thin, card-like object, and placed it on the table. With a quick motion from his fingers, a map was projected for all to see.


 * Renarch - They who serve our Laughing God are small in number. Not only are we skilled warriors, however, but we also know where to find those outcastes you seek.
 * Kirta - The Dead Watch cells?
 * Renarch - Yes. Ruins Hand under Lorka Gredyc. True Dead Watch under Gortoi Kematian. The Suicide Watch under Javik Vort, and the Tul'kaarin under Mavarla Atrass.
 * Kirta - Wait, Tul'kaarin? Isn't that a Void demon of some sort?
 * Renarch - So they have not made themselves known to you yet? Interesting. They are a splinter cult dedicated to Xizothano Ada. As it stands, they are extremely dangerous, tied with the Ruins Hand in terms of military power.

Kirta sighed as she rubbed her forehead, not sure where to start.


 * Kirta - Joy of joys. More crazies to deal with.
 * Renarch - So, what is your plan involving all of your crazy kinsmen?
 * Kirta - We don't have the numbers, but they do. If I can decapitate their leadership, and bolster our forces with their numbers, make them follow me. We should have enough to take on the Hand.
 * Clan Lord 1 - Even so, this will be a tough fight. Their leaders are proud warriors all. Are you sure you can face them, my Queen?
 * Kirta - Certainly.
 * Clan Lord 3 - Then we will follow you onto the ends of the universe. For the True Queen, in Barda's memory.

The Clan Lords repeated his declaration, and, with a nod from Kirta, moved out to prepare their Clan forces, as Phase watched from a corner, deep in thought about what was to come.

An Uncle's duty
Phase-Hunter waited outside the gathered Clan Lords and Chieftains, waiting patiently as the beings began laughing and jostling each other. They had started drinking now, it seemed. He sighed a bit as he leaned against a wall, before stepping off of it, unsure of what to do. He wanted desperately to help Kirta and take up teaching her as Barda had wanted, but he just didn't know how to handle it. Finally Kirta stepped out, as two Troopers stood at attention, their armored boots clanking together. Phase-Hunter turned and approached Kirta, who only gave a short nod.


 * Kirta - Uncle Wilson.
 * Phase-Hunter - Kirta.
 * Kirta - What do you want?
 * Hunter - There's no easy way to say this. When your father died, he asked I look after you and your brother. That's what I'm here to do, help get you going and keep you focused.
 * Kirta - I can handle myself.
 * Hunter - Kirta, you are skilled, a strong warrior and all. But this Hand is far more then you could ever hope to match.
 * Kirta - Says a drunken asshole and man-whore.

Phase grabbed Kirta by the shoulder, stopping her before she could walk away. She looked him the eyes, seeing he still hurting from Barda's death. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.


 * Kirta - You've been a leech on our family, getting drunk, being an idiot, showing up to pull your weight only to kill something. The others may think your a war hero, but me and Takanius saw what you really where. You're a broken man. I don't know why dad kept you around.
 * Hunter - I don't either. I'll admit, I've been a terrible person, my whole life. But I want to make this up to you.
 * Kirta - I'm not a charity case, Uncle. Stay around and kill like you always do, then, when this is over, you scram. I'm tired of you're idiocy.
 * Hunter - Look at these scars I got on me *Points to his chest, then to his eye* You think you can take on the Hand? If I couldn't beat him, there's no chance you could either.
 * Kirta - I'll figure something out.
 * Phase - You're going to get yourself killed! Listen to me, please, Kirta! Just let me train you, guide you along, so you can be prepared for The Hand. Once that's done, I will leave. You'll never see me again.

Kirta sighed as she rubbed her head. She had to give Uncle Wilson one thing. He was stubborn, even if he was an idiot at times.


 * Kirta - Fine. I'll work with you. Then you leave.

She turned and left, heading for the bridge of the ship, as Phase-Hunter stared after her. He himself wasn't sure to begin, but promised himself one thing. Barda's daughter would be ready to avenge her father. Phase would make sure of it.

At Hegemony's Fall
"Hand of Retribution and his forces rekt the crap outta the Hegemony, proceed to commit some serious war crimes."

"Persan forces seriously blast the Hegemony as well though not committing war crimes (at least by their standards)."

Searching for the Ruins
Phase-Hunter leaned in close, glaring deeply into the screen as he looked over everything that had happened, as the Hand turned his troops loose on the Hegemony, the ruler himself cutting down anyway who stood in his way, civilian or not. His stomach lurched as he watched this transpire, teeth digging into his lips. He had never seen Mendel of any kind "cut lose" like this before, not unless it was the Dead Watch/Ruins Hand. He took a deep breath in, before clicking the video off, and seeing 's helmeted face before him. The Gold and white armored Ugandalorian crossed his arms in front of him, shaking a bit.


 * Takanius - You see now why I'm contacting you now?
 * Phase - This is dangerous. I knew he would throw everything he had at the Hegemony, but I had no idea he would sell his soul to see them dead.
 * Takanius - My sister and mother, you, you guys have to move quick. You cannot wait any longer. The Hand won't stop until he's destroyed everything. He'll kill anyone, destroy anything, just to see his will done.
 * Phase - Kirta had a plan, but it's risky. I'm willing to see it done though. What of the Koatria on your end. What do they want?
 * Takanius - They refused to partake after seeing the Hand's slaughter. Now there's debate about whether to join The Hand or not. Most are saying no. Old Hydarax himself is threatening to carve anyone up who even talks about joining the Hand. But there's still a major divide.
 * Phase - Try your best to keep them from doing anything stupid.
 * Takanius - How? I'm not exactly an orator or anything inspiration, and a lot of those loyal to The Hand are itching to kill me. 2 already tried
 * Phase - Are you alright?
 * Takanius - They tried.
 * Phase - Listen Takanius, your father went from a criminal bounty hunter, into a ruler of a nation. You have what it takes to lead. Just step forward, and let his example guide you onward.
 * Takanius - I'll give it my best shot. You keep my sister safe.
 * Phase - I will, just keep yourself safe.

Takanius nodded once, before the connection was cut. Phase-Hunter checked over the entire system on his computer, and across the Clan fort, to make sure he wasn't being tracked, before shutting it down entirely. Grabbing his rifle and slinging it across his shoulder, he marched back out, to where Kirta and the rest of the Clan Lords where gathered, before making his way to Kirta's side. They where in discussion of trying to recruit more Clans to follow their lead, but few where willing to risk themselves or even called Kirta Traitor's Blood who deserved death. Such threats where why the Reclaimers, as they now called themselves, had to keep moving around. Phase-Hunter leaned in to the side of Kirta's head, and whispered quickly.


 * Phase - Your brother just gave me some bad news. The Hand's up and lost his shit. Probably committed several war crimes. We have to move.
 * Kirta - How bad is the damage.
 * Phase - I saw his forces murder a bunch of civilians on the recorder, blowing buildings up, he himself chopped several up with the High King's axe. We've been idle too long as it is. It's now or never, Kirta.
 * Kirta - Alright, alright, hold on now.

She turned to the other Clan Lords, who where all leaning expectantly.


 * Clan Chieftain - Is there something we must here, High Queen?
 * Kirta - My brother just sent us word. The Hand has committed several war crimes. Killing civilians and such. Brutally butchering some with the Axe of Kings.
 * Clan Matriarch - This is an outrage! We must go and rip his spin out and feed it to him! The murder of civilians goes against everything we have stood for!
 * Kirta - Calm it down, hot-heads. We got work to do first. Renarch has revealed to us the location of the Ruins Hand base. We're going there now.
 * Clan Chieftain - How? It is most likely heavily guarded and bristling with defenses. It would be suicide.
 * Renarch - *Steps out of the shadows* It would be, but Lorka Gredyc has organized a massive raid. Most of the Clan-Cabals are raiding outlying worlds and colonies of other races for plunder and riches. Few Clans remain to guard it. Soon, they will switch off and carry out their own raids as the other Clans settle in. It is when these few Clans remain, that we make our move.
 * Clan Matriarch - Savage, deviant Dead Watch. Even in times such as these, they still wish to take slaves for themselves like Lagorthene in heat!
 * Kirta - We'll turn their horniness against them then. We're going to go right into their home and I'll challenge Lorka himself.
 * Renarch - Although separate from the True Kin of Hoorangiir, they still follow the ways of Trial by Combat. Kirta can play to Lorka's position of Overmaster, and make a grab for it.
 * Kirta - With that done, they will have no choice but to accept my rule. Once we have them back under Mendel fold, we can kill two birds with one stone. We will end the Civil War between us and Dead Watch, and have forces ready to take on the Hand.
 * Clan Chieftains - Then, if you wish to take the fight to Lorka, we will follow you! For Hoorangiir, to the True High Queen!

They all gave similar shouts and oaths, as Kirta dismissed them with a wave. They stood to leave, as Phase-Hunter and Renarch remained. Renarch, despite his appearance, actually looked deadly serious for once.


 * Renarch - I did not wish to break the boisterous mood of the Chieftains and all, but Lorka is a very dangerous foe, one who matched your father in his prime. You, while fierce, are no Barda Clett.
 * Kirta - I will do what I can to defeat him. Don't question me.
 * Renarch - My my, quite bossy, are we? You sound almost like a mini-Hand of Retribution with that authoritarian attitude of yours.
 * Kirta - *angrily* What did you just say to me.
 * Phase - *Steps in between them* Renarch, shut your damn mouth, before I shut it for ya. We got a lot of trouble already, we don't need a smartass.
 * Renarch - *mockingly bows* Then I shall take my leave of thy highness' royal court.
 * Kirta - *Waits for him to leave* So, you where saying some crap about lessons?
 * Phase - We will wait till we get to the Base.
 * Kirta - Wait till we get there? Why not just give the lessons right when Lorka has his blade pointed at my neck?
 * Phase - I taught your father a lot of these tricks the same exact way. Just trust me.

Kirta narrowed her eyes a bit, as she watched him walk out the door, before grabbing her helmet, and moving out, getting ready to direct the Fleets and begin her plan.

Kirta walked into her personal quarters, a large and spacious room, filled with the memorabilia from her gunship and the various family trinkets from her Clan, that her fellow chieftains insisted she keep as good luck and to honor the ancestors. While she originally secretly laughed at such ideals, her meeting with Cadus and Reago had changed her mind on a great many things. She opened the door, and walked in, setting her helmet down, before she nearly jumped out of her skin. Standing in the center with his back turned to her, was a massive Warrior, a second one, slightly shorter then him, stepping into sight to her right.

Kirta pulled out both her pistols and aimed them at both. The Second Warrior growled like a wolf, and reached for his weapon, before the taller one raised his arm.


 * ??? - Now, now Wulkun. We are guests. Let us treat our host nicely. Stand down.
 * Wulkun - I wish to fight, Lord Archarax!
 * Archarax - We already forged ourselves on the blood of the Hegemony leaders. Please, do relax now.

The warrior, Archarax, turned, his blackened armor clanking and shifting as he did so, his cloak billowing behind him. He wore a gold colored helmet, with large horns, and three eye holes, each eye burning red in their sockets. He had a sword sheathed at his side, a number of skulls hanging from his wait.


 * Archarax - High Queen Kirta Clett? You already know who am, correct?
 * Kirta - Yeah, leader of the Skallin, and a bloodthirsty killer a top of that.
 * Archarax - Do calm down with the name calling, I am not here to trade blows, I am still recovering from the fight with that bastard of The Hand of Retribution.
 * Kirta - Why do you hate him? Aren't you two both out to slaughter.
 * Archarax - Yes, and no.

Kirta seemed perplexed by this, though kept her pistols trained on him. Archarax merely chuckled a bit, before making a motion for her to lower them.


 * Archarax - Put away your pistols, and I will explain.

Kirta hesitantly twirled her pistols, before putting them back in her holsters, and approached the Skallin Chieftain. The Warlord removed his helmet, stem rising from it as he did, revealing, despite his red eyes, a rather young looking face for his kind, but heavily scared, and looking worn down by years of fighting. He set it down on a table, stem rising from that now too.


 * Archarax - First, I wish to express my condolences. While your father and I where enemies, he was a worthy foe, and one I wanted to kill myself in order to honor the troops and warriors under my command he has slaughtered. This Hand is an unworthy one to replace him, and I hope you succeed in your quest to end him.
 * Kirta - Jee, thanks, I wish you had brutally killed my father for your demon gods too.
 * Archarax - I did not wish to sacrifice his soul to them. He was far to noble for that. But, I digress. The Hand truly does seek similar goals to mine. To kill those who oppose him and see his people rise ascendant above all. But that is where the similarity ends. His corruption is far different. His is of light.

Kirta drew herself back, angry as ever, before stepping towards Archarax. Wulkun eyed his lord carefully, before Archarax held up a hand to hold him in place.


 * Kirta - Light is an element that cannot corrupt! My brother is a light Koatria! He is nothing like the Hand! Zaraturai would not condone slaughter on such a scale!
 * Archarax - Then explain this.

He pulled on his breast plate, pulling the metal down to reveal his flight suit, with holes burned all the way into his flesh, that looked like pure light burned into his body. Smoke still rose from the wounds and hissed as they meet air.


 * Archarax - I fought him personally, and he gave me these as a gift, without even having full command of his element yet. Your brother remains grounded, for he has not given himself to the extremes as The Hand has, or I have. But you must watch him carefully.
 * Kirta - *Relaxes a bit* Explain.
 * Archarax - You notice Darkling Miterix and the his followers still use Dark and Shadow Elemental energy, correct?
 * Kirta - Yeah, but without the extreme emotions.
 * Archarax - Exactly. Light corrupts differently then shadow. Where's shadow takes in passion, rage, bloodlust and ambition, Light takes in honor, duty, justice and emotions associated with "good deeds". But, without something to ground either, do they not turn upon themselves in twisted mockeries?

Wulkun shifted uneasiely as Archarax explained this, worrying of the apostasy potentially being committed against the Dark Gods, while Kirta eyed them both wearily. She still wasn't sure if this was some trick of the Darklings, trying to turn her against her kin and their ideals. As though reading her mind, Archarax spoke firmly.


 * Archarax - Your people follow honorable motions, and I do not wish to see them grounded down, not yet at least. I am trying to warn you of a foe you do not yet realize. This is a foe neither of us would want. You see what the Hand is doing, imagine if such corruption is allowed to take root.
 * Kirta - I don't believe you. You Darklings have made a habit of trying to play to others' weaknesses and see them corrupted, how do I know you don't plan that now?
 * Archarax - Then I will show you the truth.

Kirta shivered a bit as he retrieved his helmet, and raised it slightly. He explained as he stepped toward her.


 * Archarax - I recorded my battle with The Hand in detail, so as to provide proof to you, despite your stubbornness. Such must be a Clett trait. See for yourself, youngling.

He placed the helmet upon her head, as she felt a burning sensation across her head, concentrated around her eyes, as she felt spikes dig into her skull. She grunted and struggled for a bit, as images began to pour into her mind, not exactly in front of her eyes. She was now in a great hall of some sort, fire and crumbling metal all around her, as she saw the Hand of Retribution before her, or rather, before Archarax. The Hand raised the Axe of High Kings, as he circled Archarax.


 * Hand - Fiend! Demon! I will smite you, and protect my people, from you!
 * Archarax - Yes, you may, but, can you protect them from yourself, as you drag them onto your highway to hell?
 * Hand - The only one going to hell are you and your foul kind!
 * Archarax - Come, face me. I will avenge the Honored Hunter's soul this day, with your destruction.

The two clashed in a series of attacks, axe and flaming sword striking and parrying each other in a blinding series of movements. As Archarax seemed to gain the upper hand, he slammed The Hand onto his back.


 * Archarax - First the Hegemony's leaders, and now you. Truly, the Dark One and my Gods will feast well on this banquet of souls this day.

The Hand's body seemed to glow as golden energy flowed through his body, and out through his palms, sending searing beams of energy directed at The Skallin War chief's chest. Archarax roared in agony as they hit, the Hand continuing his assault, before standing against, and striking Archarax across the chest. The Skallin king backed away, as he rebalanced his fighting stance. Before more could be shown, the recording ended, and Archarax removed his helmet from Kirta's head, leaving a number of small scars across her face.


 * Arhcarax - You see? I tell no lies this day. He is a danger to your people, and to mine. He must be destroyed.
 * Kirta - I'm still not sure I believe you, but I thank you for giving me a glimpse into how he fights and all. I will try to use that.
 * Archarax - Then be weary, High Queen of the Mendel. His skill with the blade is impressive, and his elemental power, while in it's infancy, is unnaturally strong. The False Goddess does not normally give such power to her followers. Another is behind this. One that threatens us both. Strike down this Hand, and perhaps the way will be shown onto you.

Archarax held his helmet under his right arm, as he motioned with his left, creating a dark energy portal in the middle of her room.


 * Archarax - Wulkun, we're leaving. Good luck Kirta.

He gave a somewhat sad smile, as he put his helmet back on, and walked towards the portal. Wulkun marched past Kirta, before turning to her.


 * Wulkun - When The Hand is dead, and we fight again, I hope that we get to fight once more, for you would be a foe most worthy of killing in battle.
 * Archarax - Wulkun! Now!

The Skallin warrior lumbered after his master, as the two left, Kirta crossing her arms as the portal closed, leaving her a bit mystified as to what had just happened. While she believed the Hand was twisted by something, she wasn't sure she could exactly trust a worshipper of the Darklings, especially one the past High Kings had crossed blades with, one of whom was killed by Archarax. She robed her chin slightly, as she sat down in a chair, pondering and processing what had just happened.

Other nations response to the Hand

Lorka sat upon his black obsidian throne, watching the tactical map as his troops carried out their raids. His black and purple armor glinted in the low light, as he looked over all the raids being carried out, his helm hiding his conflicted expression. For years, Lorka had secretly admired the True Mendel, and sought to join them, sought to try and make his people see the light, somehow. He knew they where turning down a dark path, one he knew they could not crawl out of if they did not stop. However, duty to Clan and ancestors, and his father's father's father's oath to Cano Clan kept him from stepping out of line. Although depraved, the Dead Watch still believed, in their twisted way, in the ideals of Oath and Clan honor.


 * Bloodguard - Is everything alright my lord?
 * Lorka - Yes, I am just thinking of new strategies to employ for the raids and all.
 * Bloodguard - Yes lord.

Lorka went back to thinking of his peoples' current state. He did not have the strength to change their ways, but perhaps someone else might.


 * Lorka - *To himself* Perhaps, my son, one day you will become Overmaster, and see to it we are made right once more.

Lorka had escaped and cheated death multiple times. Many claimed Morrigu, Goddess of Death, was repulsed by his soul, but he knew the truth. All his cheating and cloning and dodging the inevitable would not last forever. He knew, one day, his life would be taken, and there would be no turning back. He rose from his throne, shutting off the map with a touch of his armored claw, and folded his arms behind his back, as his purple cape trailed behind him, his Bloodguard closely following him.


 * Lorka - I am feeling generous today. Tell the other Clans they may continue their raids for a few more moments if they wish.
 * Bloodguard - As you wish, m'lord.

Lorka walked over to the canopy, looking over the city, bathed in ghostly light, it's blackened spires looming over the inhabitants and slave pits. He almost hated the site of the city anymore, but it had become his tomb in a way, inescapable. The Clans had talked of killing The High Kings, reinstating their positions of power, but Lorka knew the truth.


 * Lorka - *Thinking* They love it to much. The thrill of butchery has them in it's grip. They are in a prison of their own making, and thoroughly enjoy it. We are damned if we stay, damned if we leave.

Lorka silenced such thoughts. When all where weakened from the Hand of Retribution, perhaps then his people would reclaim their homeworld, take back what was theirs, and finally drive out all before them. It was the only thing he had close to hope in this blackened city of death.

Kirta's fleet arrived just outside the perimeter, where the Ruins Hand base was said to reside. Yet, no one could see anything. There was a slight distortion in the space in the center of a great asteroid field, but otherwise, no one could see anything.


 * Kirta - Renarch, are you sure this is the right place?
 * Renarch - No, I must've mistaken it for the other secret Ruins Hand base on the other side of the galaxy.
 * Kirta - Really?
 * Renarch - No! Of course I am not mistaken!
 * Kirta - Jeez, sensitive are we?
 * Renarch - This is of vast importance. My kin will disable the first and second layers of the perimeter defenses. This way your fleet can approach without them knowing, and you can deploy in the targeted locations.
 * Kirta - Alright, gotcha.
 * Renarch - But this is of vast importance. The Third Layer, which my kin cannot touch, will detect the whole fleet of this size. Your fleet must be small enough to make it through, but large enough to support a large assault force. If you alert them, all Ruins Hand forces will come here immediately!
 * Kirta - Well, Renarch, you certainly know how to make us feel safe. Why don't you rock us to sleep tonight?

Renarch looked ready to say something else, before Kirta held up her hand.


 * Kirta - Got it, got it. I'll be careful, mother. Now, I've assigned each ship their position, of either coming with me, or staying behind. It will be important to remember your place, as we go in. Don't let your need for battle get us killed. If we can pull this off, killing Lorka should be a walk in the park.

Suicidal
The Reclaimer's Fleet came out of Hyperspace, cloaked and out of sight, as Kirta overlooked the darkened, stormy lunar world where the supposed "Suicide Watch" had set up their base, far away from any other forces. Kirta turned to Vraqon Meclon and Renarch, the two standing behind at the bridge of her flagship, Vraqon's hand resting on his sheathed blade. She turned to them, a questioning look on her face.


 * Kirta - Is this the place?
 * Vraqon - We have interrogated many of these sniveling worms. They lived up to their name of Suicide Watch by trying to attack our bases.
 * Renarch - Though they refuse to believe in the Laughing God, we still kept in contact with them, and assisted them in some minor battles to maintain unity between us. This is where Javik is hiding out.
 * Kirta - Then block out their communications, and land. We have work to do.

She put on her helmet and marched out the bridge, followed by Phase-Hunter. In the Hangar, several Warriors, of both Mendel and Dead Watch origin, strapped on their armor and prepared their swords and other weapons, as a Group of Kadalian giants loaded their Ripper Guns and gigantic Axes on a specialized transport. One of their Chieftains approached.


 * Kadalian Chieftain - My Queen, my warriors are ready for battle.
 * Ugandalorian Marshall - As are mine. Dead Watch and Mendel are prepared for war.

The Warriors behind gave a shout of excitement and readiness. Though the two types looked radically different, both looked excited and readied for war, some sharing small jabs with each other and talking a bit, before returning their attention to their leader, the Marshall almost turning himself around to reprimand them.


 * Marshall - As you can see, they are excited for the coming battle.
 * Kirta - Good. They'll need it. Intel shows Javik and his forces are held up in a canyon on the dark side of the world. We'll deploy, hit them hard and hit fast. Javik is the chief target. If I can take him out, one more group will fight for our side.
 * Dead Watch Warrior - We will not fail. His head shall be yours.
 * Kirta - Remember, only I can defeat him. We don't have much data, so I hope a trial by combat is used by them to decide leaders like it is for us.

The fleet took up positions around the moon, blocking out communications and maintaining their cloaking fields, as transports took off and headed for the canyon in question. The Transports touched down, disgorging large numbers of Ugandalorian, Kaguran and human warriors, armed with various Mendel weapons, as well as 2 Candarro Assault Tanks, Mass Drivers charged and ready.


 * Phase-Hunter - Alright, let's move like you got a purpose! Javik ain't gonna kill himself.
 * Kirta - Uncle Wilson, do you have any lessons planned for this battle?
 * Phase - None, just kill him if need be.

A group of Mendel Warriors marched ahead, reaching a clearing, right before a massive fortress built in the center of the canyon. It was defiantly Mendel in origin, with some Clan iconography across it's smooth surface, though lacking in the runes honoring the various gods.


 * Phase - The Ass-theists are defiantly here. You boys and girls sit tight. I'll go ahead and take out the forward sentries.
 * Mendel Rally-Master - May the Gods watch over you, Honored Wilson.

Phase nodded, and jumped from the bushes, and landed in one of the trees, overlooking two Cavaliers. He dropped down on one, crushing him under his feet, before grabbing the other and slamming his knee into the other one's head, destroying the helmet he wore, and shattering his jaw. The second Cavalier stood back making a sharp gurgling sound, as he drew his sword, staggering back a bit, as Phase drew his own katana, jumped over the warrior's clumsy slash at his feet, before stabbing him through the head.

Running through the darkened fields, Phase teleported from cover to cover, killing troops left and right. As he came up to the front gates, he jumped up and teleported across the wall, and into the gatehouse above it, pulling out two pistols and fired immediately, putting two bullets into the heads of the Hussars guarding it. After, he walked up to the controls, and opened the gates. Kirta and her forces got out from cover, and ran towards the gates, rifles ready, as the tanks followed behind.

Kirta walked through the gateway, as her warriors began to take up positions around. Phase teleported down, and landed at her side.


 * Kirta - Everything go well?
 * Phase - They didn't get any word out. Suicide Watch is completely blind.
 * Kirta - Alright, Warriors move out! Secure the fortress.

The Troopers moved out, rifles ready as they moved through the corridors, and, with a yell, the battle began. Kirta and Phase mouthed towards the center of the fort, as the rest of their warriors exchanged with Javik's own. As the two moved through the corridors, cutting down any foes that got in their way, before two of the Tanks they brought with them rolled back and secured the hangar ahead of them, blasting apart foes with their Mass Drivers and destroying the few Cavaliers and Fusiliers that were still in the hangar, and hadn't gotten out to defend the corridors or intercept Kirta and Phase-Hunter.

The Candarro Assault tanks aimed their guns towards the eastern wall, and opened fire. Three transports came down, touching down and disgorging two squads of Shock Troopers and some Kadalian Giants, all ready and prepared for battle. The warriors ranked up and followed behind Kirta and Phase-Hunter as they moved through the corridors, cutting down the few Skirmishers that got in their way. They made their way up, coming to another set of gigantic doors, as one of the Shock Troopers approached the controls. After putting in a code, the doors creaked up, and the Shock Troopers marched, rifles raised and ready. She and Phase stepped into the massive platform on top of the fort, overlooking the entire canyon. At the center of a great circular platform, was Javik Vort in a combat stance, hand on his sheathed sword.


 * Javik - Can I assume you're Kirta?
 * Kirta - *Comes to a stop and places her hand on her own sword* Yeah.
 * Javik - Then you're here to fight me?
 * Kirta - Actually, I had something else in mind.
 * Javik - Oh?
 * Kirta - I've tried to make the offer to any willing. The Mendel people are strongest together. We need to put aside our differences and find a common cause once more. I know you're probably dead set on fighting us however, but I thought I could atleast put the offer out there for you.

Javik seemed to consider the idea for a moment, before relaxing slightly.


 * Javik - Fine, I will join you.
 * Kirta - Really?
 * Javik - I see I have no hope of defeating your forces. You have the support of your forces, and the unified Dead Watch. I clearly stand no chance. As you are the stronger leader, I accept your offer.

Kirta relaxed a bit as she carefully looked Javik over. Phase approached, leaning into whisper in her ear.


 * Phase - I wouldn't trust him. He's planning something, Kirta.
 * Kirta - I know. That's why I want you to keep an eye on him for tricks.
 * Phase - Anything in particular.
 * Kirta - No, just make sure he doesn't cause us any trouble.

Phase nodded, as both Kirta and Javik gave their troops orders to stand down and ceasefiring. Kirta had gained another ally, but still wondered what angle he was playing.

Sinew and Steel
On one of the largest ships in the Tul'kaarin fleet, currently following Kirta Clett's, the most powerful members of the Ascetic Order had gathered for a meeting before their holy shrine deep in the twisted bowels of the ship. The Ascetics were made entirely out of Ugandals from a plains tribe who worshiped different gods, had different customs, and even spoke a different language from the rest of the Ugandal population. They joined the Tul'kaarin because their way of life fit their own culture. But that was all in flux and turmoil now.


 * Ascetic 1 - It would seem that all of the Ascendants have bent the knee to Kirta Clett.
 * Ascetic 2 - What does that mean for us? Are we to follow the she-bitch into battle?
 * Ascetic 3 - That is not our way.
 * Ascetic 2 - Besides, we only followed this Altrass fellow because she promised us freedom to practice our culture as we saw fit. We pledged ourselves to his empty god so we could keep ours. The she-bitch will take that all away.
 * Ascetic 3 - We may all be executed after our use runs out. Our whole tribe could be wiped away.
 * Ascetic 1 - No! That must not happen, will not happen!
 * Ascetic 4 - You have a solution to our dilemma?
 * Ascetic 1 - The men the she-bitch takes us to fight hate her and the other "righteous leaders" of the Mendel just as much as we do! We should join them.
 * Ascetic 2 - You speak of the Hand of Retribution and Fenric Vermillion?
 * Ascetic 4 - Fenric Vermillion has flooded Ugandalore with Lagothenes! How can we trust that he will mind our traditions when he has clearly thrown away his!
 * Ascetic 1 - The Lagorthenes are a tribal people like us, who the Mendel persecuted, like us! Fenric sees our common cause, as should all of you! He has united the mountain clans, the feral clans, and the entire Lagorthene race! He has his own private army of foreign men from the Veil, and at least two companies of mercenaries. The Hand has the entire Pact, besides these bastards our "divine leader" bent the knee to. What side seems more likely to win?
 * Ascetic 3 - I agree. Either we fight for the Hand and Fenric, and have a chance at preserving our culture, or we fight for the she-bitch, and watch our people be trampled into the dirt in the aftermath. We either stand fast now, or accept our fate and fight a cause we do not believe in. If this is the final hour of the Ash'iyyar, then so be it. But I for one will die atop my turakh, with my spear in hand and ashes on my skin. If the rest of you want to die fighting for the she-bitch and her kneeling bastards, fine. But I want the name Ash'iyyar to strike fear into the hearts of men, one last time.

The other Ascetics jumped to their feet, roaring in support. After that, there were no more arguments. The Ascetics gathered all of their men, their turakh mounts, and as many weapons and food items as they could carry, onto the ship. That particular ship was mostly for the Ascetics, so they had little trouble taking control of it. They left the pilots alive, and directed them to set an immediate course for Ugandalore. With spears and curveblades held to their throats, the terrified pilots quickly complied.

The main fleet noticed one large ship suddenly disappear into hyperspace, but paid it little mind. Their quest lay ahead as well.

Fenric Vermillion stood in his command center, surrounded by mountain clansmen and Lagorthene Honor Guards. Supreme Overlord of the Suicide Watch, Javik Vort, stood in front of him.


 * Javik - All is going to plan, captain. Kirta Clett believes the Suicide Watch to be on her side.
 * Fenric - What of the others?
 * Javik - Unfortunately, all of her other supporters, the Tul'kaarin, Ruins Hand, seem to be firmly on her side.
 * Fenric - Perhaps you should not be here, then. If some loyalist realizes you are gone...
 * Javik - No worries. I have a decoy masquerading in my armor until I return. I figured I should bring this report to you in person. better that than risk a transmission intercept.
 * Fenric - You are smart, that is good.
 * Javik - Just remember our deal. I want all my clan's lands and titles restored. If you gave these furry fucks half of Ugandalore, you can give me what is rightfully mine.

The Lagorthenes bared their teeth and snarled. Fenric waved his hand.


 * Fenric - I gave you my word. My word is my word.
 * Javik - Good. Because if I get betrayed, I may be inclined to switch loyalties.
 * Fenric - You try to play the long game, Javik, but it is not in you. Were I to not keep my promise, that would mean we would have beaten Kirta already. Even if we had not, she would never accept a twice-turncoat. This may be why you lost your lands in the first place.

Javik roared in anger, and his hand instinctively went for his sword, but the Lagorthenes had their vibro-axes pointed at him in the blink of an eye. A Bellfield crossbowman took aim at his head. At this range, the clansman's quarrel would punch right through his helmet. Javik raised his hands up in surrender.


 * Fenric - You would be wise to control that temper of yours as well.

Before Javik could speak, a Ferquievy man burst through the door.


 * Ferquievy - My lord! A Tul'kaarin ship has come out of hyperspace!
 * Fenric - Is it hostile?
 * Ferquievy - No, my lord. It has not attacked.
 * Fenric - Send it a transmission. I want to know what they want.
 * Ferquievy - Aye, sir.

A short while later, the Tul'kaarin ship made it clear that they wanted to meet with Fenric. He allowed it, and moments later the four Ascetic captains beamed down to Fenric's command center. They rode through the doors riding their turakhs, who shat large piles of dung onto the floor. When they reached Fenric's command room, they dismounted and approached him.


 * Fenric - Was that entrance supposed to frighten me? You ride great ugly beasts who shit too much. Bravo.
 * Ascetic 4 - Do not insult our turakhs! They are our sacred mounts!
 * Javik - Maybe if your people had mounted your women as much as your...mounts, the Mendel kings would not have exiled you.
 * Ascetic 2 - Silence, Grox-thrall! Your kind are as hated as ours!
 * Javik - My kind no longer serves the Grox. We serve Fenric, and will have our rightful seats restored when we win. But I want to know, why are YOU here? I thought you were Mavarla's bootlicks.
 * Ascetic 1 - Mavarla has bent the knee to the she-bitch!
 * Fenric - She-bitch?
 * Javik - Kirta Clett. These misogynistic butt-scratchers would never dream of following a woman.
 * Ascetic 3 - Do not presume to make a joke of us, steelbinder.
 * Javik - You are doing a pretty good job of that yourselves. I mean, come on! Killing your own female children so they will not breed with your enemies? Really?
 * Ascetic 2 - We have not indulged in that custom for years!
 * Javik - Yeah, ever since the Cletts booted your asses off the planet. Are those sinew braids of yours made from the muscle of men you kill, or just your own children?
 * Fenric - ENOUGH!!! If these men have something to say, I will hear them out as I did you. But I have heard all I care to hear from you, Javik. Crawl back to Clett's fleet before the bitch find out you are gone. Now, or our deal is null!

Javik grumbled and walked out. One of the turakhs snapped at him as he left. He jumped out of its way and skirted out the door, muttering something about "grassfuckers" and "plains savages".


 * Fenric - The White Warriors of the Ash'iyyar are famed warriors. This is known.
 * Ascetic 4 - You know our true name?
 * fenric - I have studied much Mendel history. Were it not for the technological and numerical disadvantage, your people would have surely prevailed against the Cletts. Your hatred of the she-bitch is understandable. I assume you have come to join me in defeating them. I ask what you wish in return.
 * Ascetic 1 - We only wish to recolonize the plains and have our customs left undisturbed.
 * Fenric - Your customs are of no concern to me. You may do as you please. Your lands may have been colonized, by Ugandal or Lagorthene I do not know, but you have my permission to root them out.
 * Ascetic 3 - Thank you, we-
 * Fenric - If...you serve me well in destroying Kirta's armies. If you can kill Mavarla or the bitch who replaced him, bring me their heads and you will be greatly rewarded.
 * Ascetic 2 - We rode our turakhs across those plains for hundreds of years. We lost our homes because some bastards wanted to "civilize" us. We had to declare for the empty god, and for Mavarla with his empty head, in hopes to regain our land. But that was yet another farce. We want those lands. We will bleed and die for anyone if it gets us back there. Keep your rewards. You have nothing we want but our land. We will bring you the heads of the kneelers because it has to be done, not for promises of riches. We are not sellswords. Our honor is all that we have left.
 * Fenric - *Respectfully* Hmmm...

The Enclaves
"I hate them. I really do. The Eldarisian slaughtered children, indoctrinated our brothers and sisters, threatened to ruin our lives and culture. And they would've, too. If there's one thing I respect of that Human, is that he kept them leashed, and that is the only thing he has down for us. But I do not seeing returning the favor and butchering them as they butchered Waptoria as anything good. Killing children is still killing children, even if their ancestors bear much sin. That's why I'm going to shield them now. They may never know the sacrifice I made, giving up my people, my Clan, and my honor, but I'm going to use my forces, and myself, to protect their children. Though they would not do the same for us, it will not change my stance. Good luck, Kiun. The Path ahead will not be easy."

- Ryaler

Borealum Crisis
"If those forces don't go, I bomb."

- Emperor Alexandre of the French

Aftermath
"Time never heals these scars, it only forms a scab."

- Mendel saying

Quotes from others

 * add your own!

Themes

 * Main theme - Rise of Iron
 * The Hand of Retribution - Wolf Walker
 * The Reclaimers - Shadow of the Walker
 * Three Become One - Kell Rising
 * Barda's Death - Requiem
 * Kirta Clett - Ride like the Wind
 * Fenric Attacks - Thenn Theme Extended
 * At Hegemony's Fall - Stand Strong, Stand Together
 * The Lagorthenes - Let's Kill Some Crows
 * The Ultimate Weapon - The Warmind
 * Linking Up - The Last Array
 * Attack on the Station - Fallen SABER
 * Final Battle - Eyes Up
 * Phase-Hunter's Theme - Made In Heaven
 * Sheathing the Sword - At Peace

Notes and Trivia

 * The Mendel Schism is the first collaborative war created and led by Zillafire101.
 * This serves as a Deconstruction/Reconstruction of Mendel ideals and their hot-blooded warrior nature.
 * This story also serves as a catalyst of sorts to follow the Clett Line down through the years, starting with Barda, and picking up steam with Kirta and Takanius.