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Edited by Kei Amadis, 02 February 2019 - 08:13 PM.
"Oh dear oh my. They started with a bang, didn't they?" A voice sounded off beside where Yuroic Xeraic was buried, almost singsong in nature. A presence suddenly appeared in the Force, as if by magic. Dubiety sat casually on the end of the concrete that was bearing down on the Jedi Knight, his masked face staring up at the ruins of the hospital around them. So much devastation already. So many lives snuffed out.
In his hand he held his staff, holding the red crystal aloft. Feast. The crystal spoke to it's master, edging him on. A bottomless hunger wanting nothing more than to consume more and more souls. It didn't matter what kind, only that they could be eaten. And so the young Sith waved the staff, red leaching from it like blood in zero gravity. The tendrils reached out at the various bodies of poor souls trapped from the bombing, and those trying to help.
All at once they froze, their strings pulled taunt by the puppetmaster. And like puppets they fell, one by one as their very soul was plucked by the strings that held them in place. Their skin withered, their flesh shrank. Twelve souls suddenly vanished, leaving behind nothing but a dark empty husk. Dubiety slowly lowered his staff, the voice in the back of his mind once again muttering. Good. With that single word of approval the masked man jumped from his perch, crouching down to stare at the impaled Jedi.
"Best get out quick, less they eat you."
Behind him the fallen puppets began to stir, the husks seemingly possessed. Their bodies rose, scrambling across the ground. Screams sounded by the others survivors as these desecrated bodies began to move. To consume. A single horrific scream echoed above all else as the rest fell to silence, stunned. Flesh ripped as one poor man was unable to get away from the husks and quickly found himself eaten.
Dubiety moved away from the trapped Jedi, his staff rising again. There would be a horde soon enough.
One of the problems of being Coren Starchaser was that the Sith were tending to be a step or two ahead of where he wanted to be. And that meant playing catch up. With the lack of infrastructure he was used to with the Galactic Alliance, Starchaser and his folk in the Alliance-in-Exile had to rely on other groups, and while it was second hand knowledge, anything coming from the Coalition, Silvers, Confederacy, or the small network of rebels that were aiding the fight, was just as good as anything his trusted people were able to get. But what he was hearing were reports of the Sith making moves and motions to hit the world of New Holstice. And with the Spear still back in dry-dock, following the strike of Jabiim, the Jedi Master loaded what Jedi he could into one of the newly modified CR-140s, the Whiplash.
The ship was modified off of the FarStars used by the AiE, but modified an ancient design to it, removing the size of it hangar, and shielding capabilities, to make room for even more advanced engines systems. Without missing a beat the ship had arrived, with volunteers from the Alliance in Exile and the Shattered Jedi Order, and deployed the Alliance X- and U-Wings. The Whiplash made a quick comm burst to scramble the movements of her U-Wings from the enemy and jumped back to the relative safety of lightspeed.
Looking to the men and women in the U-Wing, some NPC soldiers, some NPC Jedi, and maybe even a PC Jedi or two if they chose to come with him. He looked to the team with him. “We’re moving to reinforce the world of New Hospice. We know the Silvers are already here and we’re here to back them up. Strike the Sith hard, and aid the Silvers. Jedi, we all have our specialties, stick with them” He was speaking over the comms. The U-Wings had turned away towards where the Sith were landing, but not close enough to being in firing range, pulling in close, they skidded on repulsors as the teams jumped out before moving
The blue lightsaber of Starchaser ignited among the others as he hurried forward, the Force leading him where he had to go, the place where the fighting was thickest. If anyone ever doubted he was a weapon of the Jedi, they had not been paying attention. Reaching out to the Force, he was already pushing the bit of valor he could, the power to focus his team, giving them strength and inner coordination as he ran forward. The battle wasn’t far, and his support system was ready to fight. They were a step behind the Sith, but it didn’t mean his team wasn’t going to strike them hard.
Edited by Coren Starchaser, 03 February 2019 - 12:21 AM.
Timing seemed to always fall against the Jedi Master. While it wasn't his fault entirely, he was humble enough to take some of the blame for that. Just weeks ago he was having a conversation with an Samara Raine about the ever growing threat of the Sith Empire and rise in strength of the dark side of the force. And just a few short days after that he could sense his own inner light being threatened by the constant harassment of the Sith. It wasn't just him anymore, there were others that needed him to stand as best as he could. If he were to fail, then those few after him would be threatened.
Coren Starchaser could be heard as Kahne stood with his hand on the bar above him to keep him somewhat stable without getting tossed about much. Kahne could sense the emotions were running high with the civilians and the like that were here, these people had suffered much. The Jedi Masters inner circle was as calm as could be, perhaps for the time being.
There are sith that needed to be destroyed, and people that needed to be saved. It wasn't long until they reached their destination. Jedi and soldiers alike began their actual deployment, as did Kahne. His lightsaber drawn, he was ready for this challenges ahead.
The Axes of the Chieftains Fist grinded against metal.
Eleven Draelvasier. Lured by death.
Their hammers crushed the dirt beneath, the excited pace of their hearts mirrored by the sounds of their weapons.
The Chieftain and his eleven chosen had arrived in the atmosphere of New Holstice. The Seers had dreamt of a golden fire melting into flesh - Tathra would burn all who lay in his path to glory. To kill; to be stronger, to be faster than any other. To prove your worth by returning the weak to dirt. That was the truth.
The Jedi and Sith were no more than puppets to their own primal desires. Whether they realised it or not, their institutions existed to continue the cycle of war. Two ideologically opposed groups, forever fighting. It was beautiful. As humans would often say, all good things must come to an end. The Hel Shard's walls were alive with the vibrations of the ecstatic voices of the eleven alongside Tathra. The Chieftain's Fist, the best warriors of his species.
They had been with him since the start, some of the first Baedurin to be spawned from the template. Stronger, smarter. Hardened skin from nearly a year of endless fighting. The Bryn'adûl's finest. All huddled into a single shard. Shoulder to shoulder, eager for the slaughter. The slow beat of their Axes against their chests began as the Shard descended towards the primary invasion sight. Tathra walked a step forward, now ahead of his kin.
"[Draelvasier]: Some of them will make for competent foes. Give them nothing but your blade. For the Drael!- Tathra turned to them now, his titian eyes filled with a empowering intensity, his head raising as the beat of their Axes engulfed every corner of the Shard. "[Draelvasier]: For ourselves." The pod sunk down towards the planet surface, amass of fire collecting at the tip of its spearhead as it created a meteor like appearance, parts of its exterior flaking off as it hurdled down toward the ground.
Just outside of the Planets local sensors, the Bryn'adûl battlenet lit up, several small ships ready to head toward the planet surface.
Deployed: x11 Chieftains Fist
Reverses: x4 Shamans | x4 Servitors | x1 Draeyde Swarm | x200 Drones | x6 Commanders |
Location: Antar 5 -> New Holstice
Allies: Kei Amadis
Suspects: Tathra Khaeus
"General, we have reports concerning New Holstice: the planet will soon come under attack and..." the intelligence officer reported before being interrupted.
"Here's the plan: we have our vanguard under General Amadis screen our movements and/or positions, and then we will move to secure a beachhead from which we can make our insertion, and assault the sewers and other underground ways. Plus we can always blast columns of enemy artillery from underneath them while our own choke points will be armed with a variety of defensive emplacements. And, of course, if - and it's not a given - Sith are there, we must expect their own camp to treat their own forces as background noise, as they call it, but also that all we need to do is to hold the line long enough for their morale to break"
"We shall make these Sith regret being so self-centered and act as if dueling was the only objective to them!" the intelligence officer, a veteran of Midvinter, shouted, in the presence of many of those troopers that are en route to New Holstice.
"We must also rescue as many civilians as we can, and this is why we came with medvac units in tow"
Poodoo. Every two or three years or so, the Sith military adventurism comes back to bite us. Hopefully the enemy commander of that era will be afraid of us enough to go all-in on our other elements being deployed, if that person is still active. What it does imply, if that information is correct, is that it will make holding the line harder on the vanguard, and perhaps additional forces others may have brought in tow, but easier on the army under my direct command, Jessica thought, while the heavy weapons teams, Xi Charrian, Trandoshan, Umbaran or otherwise, were readying their MANPADs, Izumos, machineguns and even mortars. Also, it would be the first combat deployment of these new artillery units outfitted with Katarns. And, of course, for fire support, as well as reconnaissance, in this urban environment, MobileMortar-4s are in use as well. Yet, she couldn't help but think the Blackblade Guard was perhaps the main enemy unit not under that Sith's command that was still deployed. As the flight in hyperspace began for the Silvers' army en route to New Holstice... they couldn't help but feel that something was amiss.
"You must have realized by now just how annoying it is for us to be fighting this sort of engagement just to satisfy the collective desire of a few enemy higher-ups for duels: the presumed objectives are just too large for just a few squads to go at it" a senior artillery officer remarked, while also being a veteran of the Rift and Tartarus.
"Don't worry, we'd still be protecting innocents"
Nida was beginning to think that nothing was sacred.
Though young and inexperienced, there was a measure of wariness in her bright eyes. Out of all the things she couldn’t understand, this she understood. There were bad people in the galaxy. They burned, they killed, they tortured, they enslaved. Sometimes their reasoning was complex twisting around on itself until you couldn’t make heads or tails of their motivation anymore. Sometimes it was simple, an ego too big, a lust for power, a need to inflict pain in order to satisfy some masochistic urge. It was just the way some people were, as life as a child slave had taught her.
Didn’t mean that she wasn’t terrified.
New Holstice was a peaceful world; a place of healing. Anything the Jedi held near and dear to them had to be ripped away by the Sith, so it would seem. There were others already on the ground, meeting the Sith threat head-on. Nida was just outside the hospital, alternating between ushering fleeing civilians into the great building and treating the wounded when and where she could. It was utter chaos, but she’d done this a handful of times. Enough to keep her head straight, but it was a conscious effort and her hands were shaking. The saber hilt at her waist felt a little too heavy, almost as if it didn’t belong.
She swallowed, her throat was dry. The Jedi were giving it their all, but still the enemy advanced with the staccato of blaster fire and flashes of crimson.
Lark's mind was fragmented.
Only on rare occasions did he truly realize this. Since he composed the utter ruination of his hometown, he had become something that the galaxy had rarely seen. A being with no true identity, someone whose mission changed from one sunrise to the next, depending on what personality he adopted. Lark was not his true name, whatever it was had been lost to the ever flowing enigma of time. In truth, he was only a nameless monster.
Since that fateful night, he had embraced numerous personalities that shifted whenever he needed them to, or whenever he felt like making things interesting. He was proficient with the blade, but words were his most dangerous weapon. There was a genuine personality, underneath the layers and layers of personas he hid behind. But that monster was seldom seen, buried deep within.
Lark overlooked the hospital, a locus that should be devoid of any hostility or conflict. But now, it found itself right in the middle of the hellscape that engulfed New Holstice. Men and women wounded from battle filled the place, doctors rushed towards those whose condition was most critical. But one trait that many of Lark's personalities shared was an absolute antipathy towards life. It meant nothing to him.
He stood in a small patch of dandelions, what might have once been a place of comfort for patients who were able to make trips outside. He held one in a pale hand, lightly blowing the soft flower towards the hospital. Small petals drifted towards the hospice, symbols of shelter now became symbols of annihilation. A slight gust of wind followed, Lark's scarlet hair fluttered like a scarf in the breeze. The rest of the dandelions rustled peacefully, oblivious to the carnage around them.
"Making a wish?" A nearby commander scoffed.
Lark chuckled softly. Sometimes he was oblivious to the presence of others around him. But he didn't take the affront personally. "Of a sort. Are your men ready?"
"They're in position, awaiting your order."
For a moment, Lark watched the hospital, which so desperately sought to restore life to the ones within. A meaningless effort. Only in death was humanity truly equal. They futilely fought to delay the inevitable. "Our orders are absolute annihilation," Lark said gently, with the voice of an angel. "Fire when ready."
Rockets and gunfire blazed towards the hospital, which immediately triggered a response. The Jedi were no fools, they knew the hospital would be a target and prepared defenses accordingly. Sith troops charged down the hill towards the building, and Lark leapt down with them. He'd be in the midst of the action, enchanted Sith sword and dagger in hand. Jedi and Sith fell around him, but Lark couldn't muster the emotion to care. He had never been able to.
After all he had seen, how could he?
"Coward? Is this what Jedi do when they feel fear? Stoop to insults?" Dubiety hummed his words, once again on the rock that had once imprisoned Yuroic Xeraic . He had been watching, patiently letting the Jedi deal with the husks, even allowing him to heal himself. There was much the young Sith wanted to experiment on, and one of them was his own skill against an actual Jedi.
Though, it seemed his chosen target wasn't. A frown settled on his lips as he could feel the dark settle on the shoulders of this would be Jedi. "Or is that the way of the hypocritical Jedi? If you're going to follow something so wrong, at least follow it correctly." As he spoke the red gem began to glow, it's dark power being called upon by the young Sith.
Edited by Yuroic Xeraic, 04 February 2019 - 04:44 PM.
Kahlil only smiled behind his mask as Yuroic Xeraic responded. Getting a rise of emotion from a Jedi was a rare treat, though it seemed the man before him was only barely a Jedi. It was worth seeing how a Jedi worked when they were a slave to their baser emotions. The blast of the Force impacted the sitting Sith, sending him back from his perch where he'd flip in the air and land on his feet. Again the Staff came up, still charged with eleven recently devoured souls.
Again the young Sith spoke those forbidden words, but unlike before two orbs formed around the staff's gem. With a simple wave of it he sent the spheres for the charging Jedi. They impacted the ground in the Jedi's path, aiming to either catch him mid charge or force him to keep his distance, both erupting with intense heat and turning the rubble that had once buried Yuroic into ash.
Edited by Yuroic Xeraic, 04 February 2019 - 06:02 PM.
"Old." Dubiety gave a simple response as Yuroic Xeraic spoke, lightly tilting the staff to catch the saber. As expected of the Sith made weapon it had little problem dealing with the Jedi's weapon. Though, that came with another problem. Yuroic was close. Lightning dance around the staff as the young Sith unleashed a blast of the energy for the Jedi while jumping back, trying to create space between them again. Dubiety was strongest while he had the advantage of range after all.
Well, if there was someone in the galaxy who had worse luck than her Asaraa had yet to meet them. It was supposed to be a simple trip to a hospital, one of a number of Jedi on the ground, here to show the face and help out wherever they could. The first few days had been quiet, almost peaceful and she'd found herself enjoying the time away from the pressure and stress of the galaxy. This was helping people at it's most pure and simple, a simple pleasure you couldn't really feel anywhere else in the galaxy. Asaraa wasn't a super skilled healer, but she knew enough to help a little, an eager pair of hands to carry and bandage at the very least, to pull on the force when she could to alleviate the pain that seemed a very part and parcel of the hospital, as if it had soaked deep into the walls.
So, things had been going pretty well so far, the days melding into a peaceful lull, and they even had some friends show up, an entire Sith combat fleet. The girl blinked, reaching up to rub an arm across her face blinking at the ash covering her arm as she pushed herself up, her ears ringing. The assault had come on fast and she'd been thrown clear across the courtyard, her back scraping against the stone tiles, before she'd collided with the wall. The girl forced herself to her feet, one hand resting on her back as she levitated her sword up into her hand, glancing around at the devastation caused by the initial attack. The wafts of smoke billowing into the air,the smell of burning filling the air as she glanced around and took a step forward. When in doubt just move and see who she could find.
He walked amongst the chaos one hand held behind his back, fingers curling into a fist, while the other hung loosely at his side with fingers curled around the hilt of a lightsaber. Occasionally, one of the defenders who managed to survive the initial onslaught would take a couple pot-shots at him; no doubt thinking that he could deal a grievous blow to the invading force if he took out a Sith as if it were that easy. No, the Lord merely turned and dodged the first volley, lazily raising his saber to send the last few careening back into the hapless soldier. The lad stumbled forward before pitching over onto his stomach, several contrails of black smoke twirling away from his body.
"How uncivilized, these brutes."
His voice was haughty and proud, noble blood pumping through his veins. He let his blade fall back to his side as he leisurely continued on. Here and there he would spot the Empire's legionnaires busying themselves with grunt work, trading fire with the city's militia or clearing rubble for the Empire's vehicles to pass by. Occasionally one of the officers or adjutants would trot up to his side and brief him of the progress, but Novae cast an air of indifference around him by nodding and looking as if he were more interested in what lay beyond the smoldering horizon than what was being said to him. These encounters always ended the same, he would wave them away and tell them to continue the good fight and that the Emperor was proud of them.
Was he? Novae didn't know, the Emperor didn't make his feelings known about anything except to his cadre of councilors.
Movement above him, Novae glanced up at the sight of enemy ships zooming through the air. From what his keen eyes could pick out, they bore the insignia of the Silver Jedi Order. "How quaint," he mused absently to himself as he followed their trajectory through the skies and began to walk in that direction, "Perhaps I shall pay our neighbors a visit."
When the news reached the ears of Ra, she had to take the opportunity. So few chances were given to her to attack the Sith she so wanted to destroy. She had taken too much abuse from them, the final straw had been when they ruined her stable life. That had recovered finally. Her home and life now were with Josh and she worked from time to time with the Silvers.
Now on New Holstice, she waited until things started to kick off before doing anything. Getting the lay of the land and area around, she actually was looking forward to stopping the Sith advancement. Not picking a specific location or target, yet, the former Sith walked.
On her route, she would sometimes fade away in the Force and from sight. Skills taught to her when she was a Sith Assassin and she had no qualms using these neutral skills. No longer a Sith, she still had some Dark Side qualities, but those were fading as time passed. If one felt deep enough though, those influences could still be picked up on.
She wore one double-bladed lightsaber hilt on her belt, had two hidden shoto lightsabers up her sleeves, a blaster on the other side of her belt and two knives hidden within her boots. The only additional weapon she had was a spiked ball at the end of her braided hair. Finally reaching a location of her choice, she sat down on the ground and would reveal her presence. Hopefully like a small beacon, it would draw the attention of one of these Sith.