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  1. -Genesis- I watched Armiena's body language, the sense of despair hidden by her roughly forged exterior, yet it was the eyes that never lie. Even as my gaze shifted toward the mechanics hearing their whispers before turning back to her gaze, I could see the sadness. It was only her words that placed the pieces together for me. "Forgive me Master. I didn't know." I spoke, my words sympathetic, but holding no weight of knowledge or experience behind their sincerity. "I dont know him, but as a son, perhaps the joy of seeing his mother again will erase, or at least ease, any old wounds. I know it would for me." My gaze shifted outward, briefly considering what I would give to be in her son's shoes and knowing I had the chance to see my mother once again, but shook it off as the realization that I would never have such a chance reminded me so. Sitting in silence as she continued on with her instructions, I followed her in suite. There was certainly a method to her madness. -Mjan- Mjan sat in silence, and a bit of relief washed over the Lieutenant as the orders to hold positions came across the wires. He was new to this, and since take off, found his stomach aching with knots and flutters as the anticipation lingered on. He sighed heavily, opening himself to the Force and letting it flow peacefully through his being, feeling its gentle waves roll across his form. This was going to be a long day, whether it grew eventful or not, but he hoped he wouldn't have to pull a single trigger. -Aurora- Aurora would be found in her makeshift cabin when Tobias came looking for her, the weapon she had collected at Felucia fresh in hand as she practiced her form with by memory. She knew not what laid ahead for her, only that the tension in the air was thick, causing her to feel uneasy. This was the only way she knew to calm herself. -Mythos- Mythos snarled as the Jedi communications echoed through-out the Steadfast, the Shistavanen boiling with anger. If he hadn't been so cramped in the small shuttle, he would have likely smashed something. But for now, he kept quiet. He would await Slaughter's orders, but if they were as pacifistic as the Jedi's were starting to become, he'd storm the place himself. In his line of work, negotiations were only for show to get the enemy to let down their guard, and he wasnt about to be caught empty handed by the Black Sun.
  2. Mythos' teeth flared behind the mask, the closest thing his kind could come to smile.. albeit it looked more like a snarl than that of a smile, as Slaughter spoke. The Shistavanen was ready for a good fight, and it seemed it had been served to him on a silver plate. The rise of the Mandalorians may have been what brought him out retirement, but his duty was to that of the Alliance and her people, including that of the Imperial Empress. As he turned to walk away, he uttered only a few words, words he felt that Slaughter would find consoling. "The Force wont have anything to do with our win today." And with that, Mythos departed, never truly believing the Jedi mysticism. As far as he was concerned, it was no more than ideology. As he headed to the hangar, he listened to Slaughter's comm to the enemy echo across the Steadfast's internal speakers, his words not only mimicking his own feelings toward the current state of the GA, but as he looked out across the hanger bay, it reflected nearly everyone's as life sprung forth in waves and everyone reported in for duty as engines were filled and ships began lift off. It was truly a sight to behold, a splintered body of government coming together with its allies in a swift motion to return old wounds to those that inflicted them. Even as the towering Shistavanen walked across its bay and climbed aboard the transport he had been assigned to, the men within held no faces of fear or despair. No, they held faces of vengeance and firm convictions, ready to lay their lives down in the line of duty just get a swing at the enemy. These were men and women whom had been backed into a corner and were ready to fight back. And for Mythos, there was no greater gratification than to know he found himself surrounded by beings of the same mentality. And it showed when the Black Sunner made his own retort to Slaughter, the men listening closely growing fired up as his words merely spat in their faces. Mythos could smell the hate in the air like that of a strong cologne. And it smelled delicious.
  3. Mythos remained in silence for most of the arduous journey, his gaze fixated upon the panel before him as he watched and overheard Slaughter holding the fleet together as best he could. But Mythos had never been much of a tactician. Still, he held a certain respect for this human Coruscanti before him. He witnessed the death of his homeworld, and without flinching, had already turned his attention elsewhere. Truly, he understood the rules of war, always forward and never behind. Mythos shifted his gaze about as they exited hyperspace just before the last jump, the Shistavanen licking at his chops out of habit as he gauged the current atmosphere. Fear was adrift, but so was anger, lingering sadness, and a sliver of hope. Emotions were so thick, he doubted that even a Jedi's lightsaber could cut it. But it was an understandable mixture. After Coruscant, morale was down, but their hearts remained within the fight, just as any true warrior should. Feeling the final jump shift his weight as he leaned against a nearby railing, Mythos empathized. They were at the doorstep of another battle, and there was no certain outcome. Emerging, Mythos stepped forward toward the view port as comms came alive, contacts being made both to the ship's barrage of fighters including Andromina's Templars and Slaughter's announcement to the Jedi Fleet. It amazed him to see the Jedi's fleet size, so much having changed since he left behind the Galaxy he once served. But now was not the time for gawking, and Mythos slid his mask over his face as he turned back toward the Admiral, handing over the plans he was supposed to use to infiltrate. "Let's not let these plans fall into the hands of the Black Sun" He spoke in jest, his voice gargled not only by the permanently scarred vocal cords that were hidden behind the scar that adorned his throat, but also by the metallic mask he hid his face behind. As he dropped the plans in Slaughter's hand, he poised an important question. "Where do you need an old Shistavanen like myself Admiral?"
  4. Just as Mythos began to climb the ramp of the ship, he turned toward his human companion as his comm link lit up, Slaughter's voice coming across loud and clear. If he had yet to adorn his mask, the poor son would have seen a fierce face claim the Shistavanen's usual bland demeanor. Clinching his fist tight enough to impress his frustration into the ramp's metallic hydrolic arm, his teeth gritted just as tightly, Mythos began his trek back toward Slaughter. "Those blasted sorcerers will be the death of this Galaxy yet!" Mythos scorned in return, his tone raspy and harsher than usual as the frustration was found snarling out in spurts. "They preach peace and restraint, yet are the first to ignite their tiny laser blades. Hmph." Despite the shift in the hanger as the ships emerged into hyperspace, Mythos's pace never wavered. Within a few minutes he had returned and was present before Slaughter once more. "I'll make sure to do the wrecking myself when we arrive."
  5. What appeared to be a semblance of a smile cross the Shistavanen's face as he took in a moment to remember the information, slipping the plans into his pocket, and nodding to the Admiral. Unpinning the badge that adorn his duster, Mythos slide it across the desk toward Slaughter. "Understood. Take care of the for me, won't you?" Mythos chuckled as he turned to depart, his gaze shifting back only momentarily before he stepped out the room. "I only need one. Your best. Have them meet me in the hangar in fifteen. And with that, and a small stoop as he stepped outside, Mythos was gone. Fifteen minutes later, Mythos stood near the ship that the Admiral had prepared and stood waiting for his newly appointed companion, dressed in all his gear and his mask once again adorned. If they were going to make this work, they were going to have to act fast, and Mythos held little patience.
  6. Mythos grimaced when Slaughter mentioned the Imperials and their head, his disdained taste for them stemming back decades. And the GA's formal Alliance with them had been like pouring salt into old wounds for the Marshal. But politics and formalities had never been the Shistavanen's strongest suits. He was a being of orders and actions, nothing more, nothing less. That was just his way. "Forgive the lackluster, Admiral." Mythos spoke, his raspy tone little more than a growling whisper as he watched the images before him unfold. "I'm not too keen on Imperials, or even those carrying the name. Too much bad blood befalling Coruscant and the Core Worlds under their name even if these prove themselves to have been different." Mythos brought his clawed paw up his mane, open handily stroking the long locks of fur that would have been a beard had he'd been born human. Despite his dislike for the Imps, he knew what Slaughter was asking of him with understanding. With the Sith Empire on one side, and the Mandalorians on the other, the GA needed whatever allies they could afford at the moment. As stubborn as he was, Mythos also lived by an unspoken creed among the Marshals, a simple but truthful one: The Enemy of my Enemy is my Friend, for a time at least. "But your right. We of the Galactic Alliance cannot afford to forsake any hand we need to keep close to the vest. Consider me aboard. What's my cover?"
  7. "Probably for the best... Mythos snarled in a raspy voice as he took in behind Slaughter, his gaze shifting as his towering form began to fall into old habits. "I've never been one for formalities. Grunt work is my specialty." As the the privacy field generator powered up, Mythos remained standing. Mostly due to the fact that most furniture rarely held up to his weight and stature, but also to the fact the Mythos wasn't much for sitting. He was Shistavanen. He was a warrior, a hunter, and it was his nature. As Slaughter spoke, Mythos could see and smell the duress within him, only amplifying the seriousness of the threat in which he spoke of. He could sense that Slaughter knew first hand of which he spoke, the smell of his wound still fresh. "I suspect it was one of the Mandalorians that gave you the wound on your leg?" His raspy voice came across slightly concerned for the admiral, but more curiosity than anything. Raising his head to reveal the scar that ran across his voice box, Mythos continued as his gaze returned to Slaughter. "The first of many I recieved, a small undercover op I undertook portraying what my species are known for, a hunter. What do you have in mind Admiral?"
  8. Mythos grimaced beneath the duraplate mask he adorned as the Traffic Officer's voice teased, the aging Shistavanen chuckling beneath it as he grabbed the comm unit and gave a simple yet snide rebuttal. "Son, first time I walked the corridors of a MC90, you were likely still suckling your mother's teat." He chuckled once more through his cuspids before hanging it up and turning Von Howlster's Reach toward the Steadfast. As his gaze fell upon the war torn vessel, his suspicions were confirmed. It held the many scars of its age and stories, most notable the burns of the Mandalorian mounts, and his eyes only burnt with more fuel within the fire. Landing in Hangar Three, Mythos disembarked, placing his shield and folder upon his duster as he made his way to the bridge. When he arrived, Mythos removed his mask as he looked on in a mixture of sorrow and rage. He placed a clawed hand upon one of its framing beams, closing his eyes briefly as if apologizing to the older ship for its defeat, before turning toward the magcon and Admiral Slaughter. As the towering beast made his approach, his face revealing a singular across his snout and one large one across his throat, he gave a formal but fumbling salute as the Admiral spoke. "Admiral Slaughter you say?" The Shistavanen jested briefly, his voice gnarled and congested as he sat his mask aside. "Fitting." His face turned to a serious note as he stood there, his breathing deep for such a large form, the Shistavanen standing over two meters tall, and his rage was self evident even as his reached a paw up and wiped the drool from his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. "These Mandalorians... They come to the heart of a Galaxy I swore to protect, playing conquerors of a planet struck yet again by the hands of powerful Sith, and think they can get away with it under the guise of a holy crusade?" Mythos' tongue licks his chops briefly. "You'd be damned right that I would come out of retirement for that. This was my beat, my turf, and they've declared war upon it. Retribution is but nigh.
  9. Anaxes... it was a world that Mythos had never held the pleasure of visiting, most of his time spent between Coruscant and the Unknown and Outer Regions during his time as an Alliance Marshal. But that was years ago. Now he sat here aboard Von Howlster's Reach, gazing upon the fortress world after making his decision to return to the Core, he knew he stood on the precipice of a new era, an era that would require those of his caliber if it was to survive the oncoming onslaught. With a grimace of his snarl, the Shistavanen grabbed his comm. "This is former Alliance Marshal Mythos Von Howlster, requesting an audience with whomever is in command.." He spoke, his voice gurgled and raspy from the age old scar that crossed his neck. His ears coiled backwards as his clawed hand reached forward and he transmitted his identification. "Submitting encrypted Transponder Codes now, Badge Number 6266-008." As he awaited a response, Mythos' gaze shifted out the viewport in Coruscant's direction, the glow of the fire in his eyes soon being covered by the mask he adorns as he grew ready. He couldn't believe the bold audacity of the Mandalorian Crusaders. They came into his home, ransacked the place, and now believed they could get away with it. Not as long as he drew breath. It was time for retribution, and he was the being that would deliver it. All the GA would have to do at this point was but to ask.
  10. Requesting permission to join the war torn GA on a independent basis. Character is a former Alliance Marshal. Think of what Boba Fett was to the Empire in the OT.
  11. Identity Real Name: Mythos Von Howlster A.K.A: Mythos Fenrir Homeworld: Uvena Prime Species: Shistavanen Physical Description Age: 35 Height: 2.2 Meters Weight: 170 Kilograms Skin Color: Grey Fur Color: Dark Brown with Grey and White Patches Eyes: Hazel Sex: Male Equipment Clothing or Armor: Leather Duster with Duraplate Shoulder Paudrons and Forearm Guards, Durasteel Clawed Gauntlets, Leather Hide Vest, Leather Pants with Duraplated Shinguards, Duraplate Helmet mimicking his own visage. Weapon: Jagged Vibro Scimitar, Black Powder Scatter Rifle, Twin Hold Out Pistols, assortment of grenades including Ion, Flashbang, and Smoke Grenades. Common Inventory: Cred sticks, Weapons, Ammo, Armor Faction Information Non Force User Alignment: Chaotic Lawful Current Faction Affiliation: Independant Current Faction Rank: Independant History: Personality: Mythos, like many of his species, is a recluse with a long held disdain for many species, most notably Humans. However, he differs in that he does care for the less fortunate and those the Galaxy has deemed poor and unworthy, no matter the species. Scars: Beneath his fur holds three notable scars. One is located beneath his right eye from the bite of a Cathar. A second is located across his throat from a human that leaves his voice raspy and low. And the third is across his back where his fur does not grow after the heated blade of a lightsaber once drew its tip across his form. Distinctive Features/Markings: Scars, Three Red Warpaint Clawstripes over his left eye made from a mixture of blood and soil. Known Skills: Swordsmanship, Hunting, Splicing, Weaponry Smithing, Gunsmithing, Sniping, Hereditary Skills. Background: Like many of his ilk, Mythos was born into a pack of siblings with a singular Alpha that fathered them all. Born as a runt, not much was expected of him, including survival. But as he aged, he grew larger than all of his siblings, and so did what was expected of him. When he reached the age of maturity, he was taught in the ways of hunting and of his people, expected to eventually take the place of Alpha just as his Father. Only this wasn't meant to be. Mythos found himself captivated by the stars, and eventually ventured out among them, venturing further than most dared to. Among the stars, he found life to be as harsh as it was mundane. His appearance was horrific to those who first laid eyes upon the young Shistavanen, while those whom knew of his species played upon both his weaknesses and his strengths, usually hiring him to play the part of brute, an enforcer for the more seedy types who wanted little resistance both from those who owed them and the naive, yet towering, Mythos. A simple glance of him and most paid without word. It wasn't until his first arrest that Mythos began to piece together the puzzle that had began to become his life. He spent the next few years in the Imperial Prison at Cardia where he decided to change his path in life, spending a few years traveling the Outer and Unknown Regions as a protectorate of sorts, aiding those who needed it without thought of coin or reward. It was during his travels that he met Janus Von Howlster, a member of the Alliance Marshals. Janus wasn't your typical Alliance Marshal, many times known to go off the rails if the situation called for it despite his Superiors advisments. Like Mythos, he held a sore spot for the weak and abandoned, the two quickly becoming friends during a joint effort of defending a small tribe being singled out by a rising syndicate under the guise of a local conglomerate using Bounty Hunters to wipe out the indigenous species. Seeing an opportunity to help his friend Janus, Mythos went undercover and infiltrated the small corporation. After a few months, Mythos was able to help Janus take them down, but not before being found out and captured, ending with the first of many scars as his throat was slit when the Alliance Marshal’s task force raided the Corporate Headquarters to save Mythos. After that, Mythos joined the Alliance Marshals officially and became one of their members, becoming Janus’ partner in the process. The next few years were tough but fulfilling years as he rose through the ranks, his sheet filled with many notorious criminals, almost as much as his hospital records which included many injuries. But he took pride in his job and loved it. But just a few years ago, Janus was killed during one of the numerous Sith attacks on Coruscant which left a permanent bad taste in Mythos’ mouth as well as the scar across his back. When the formation of CoreSec came about, Mythos declined their offer and went about his own way in Janus. He has been noted to help the Galactic Alliance hunt down criminals, but for the most part, he simply stays to himself and travels the Galaxy helping stave off what injustice he can in the memory of Janus. But now whispers of Coruscant's ultimate demise has reached his ears and he contemplates returning to the Core Worlds. Whether he does or not, only time will tell and his fate becomes decided. Ship Registration Name: Von Howlster’s Reach Class: Shuttle/Light Freighter Model: Herald Class Shuttle Manufacturer: Star Forge Length: 28 Meters Armaments: Heavy Laser Cannons(2), Point Defense Laser Cannons(2) Armor: Standard(Upgraded) Anti-Personnel Defenses: Battle Droid Appearance: Silver with Three Crimson Stripes across the Hull of the Cockpit Modifications: Standard armor has been refitted with Military Grade, Sublight Engines have been modified to reach speeds of 1200 km/h, Hyperdrive has been upgraded to Class 6, Ship's computer mainframe has been upgraded with A.I. to exclude need of secondary crew member, and Cargo Hold has been modified to house two energy cells and one universal energy cell as well as a military grade bacta tank and cloning center
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