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
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 * - 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 their defeat and the shattering of the, Fenric and his followers had lacked food, provisions, and working ships in an substantial number. Indeed, Fenric's previously huge force was down to just a few million men. Most of them were Ferquievys and Scythiags. Fenric was beginning to despise the sight of the big-eared Ferquievys who carried themselves with such arrogance. Had he not been forced to marry one, they would never have rose from the gutter.

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.

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.

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.

Iron Shadows
Warmaster Harnisatius the Relentless was free, and he had been for a long time. Yet, something kept gnawing at him, and the fifth-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 Harnisatius 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 Harnisatius had been banished with his legion to the fringes of War-Imperial space, to forever wage war against the enemies of the Imperium.

Not that Harnisatius cared. Caligustus had been wise, adopting these Dragowar in which he saw certain traits of himself; Harnisatius possessed his adopted father's drive for war. Harnisatius did not wish to conquer. 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 Fifth Warmaster cared about was to drive ever onwards, surmount all challenges, avenge all insults, until every last corner of the universe had felt the touch of his glaive. Thus the title of the Relentless had been bestowed upon him, and Harnisatius wore the mantle well.

Only one insult had not yet been levelled. His capture at the hands of Orkan. Orkan would die at the chainglaive to the Relentless and the Hegemony would be pillaged down by his Iron Horde, even if that was the last act they ever did. Harnisatius had sworn so.

Harnisatius...

Another whisper. Not in his mind, this time. The Relentless drew his chainglaive, worn leather wrapped around the shaft, the drake-teeth sharp and polished. His armour, iron lacquered red and inlaid by designs of copper, moved smoothly as he adjusted his body weight, as did the iron pteruges and bits of chainmail hanging from it.

Shadows began to move, flooding the room, then unfolding and turning it into someplace else. Before the 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. Harnisatius did not like the look of him.

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


 * Khain - Rise, Harnisatius. You have heard the news?
 * Harnisatius - I have. The Mendel High Kings are dead. It does not interest me.
 * Archarax - Then perhaps the plans of their new Ultimate Lord will.

Harnisatius rose one scaly eyebrow, listening.


 * Archarax - This new leader of theirs calls himself the Hand of Retribution.
 * Harnisatius - So?

Immediately, the 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 Terkalinra's voice.

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


 * Archarax - He wishes to destroy the Hegemony.

The head of the Relentless rose abruptly.


 * Harnisatius - 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.
 * Harnisatius - Then at least let me do the killing.
 * Archarax - As master Terkalinra 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 as the lord Terkalinra has decreed it.
 * Harnisatius - 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 Warmaster's mind. All beings in the room, unenhanced or not, bowed at once. Before the Dark Master, such a gesture was as natural as the inevitable coming of the night.


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

A dark sphere, drawn from the depths of the Abyss, formed between Terkarina'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.


 * Terkalinra - 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.


 * Terkalinra - All of you will have your share. Khain, the enhanced. Harnisatius, revenge. 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.

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
 * At Hegemony's Fall - Stand Strong, Stand Together
 * 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.