Invasion Battle for Balance Chapter I — GA invasion of DE held Tython

[Jasper Kai'el]

Tython
Tags: Braze , Onrai , Raphael Gallustrade , Others...

Lux Ultima
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"Azure Phoenix to ground team. We're commencing an aerial cavalry assault. Stay sharp and keep us updated if things start to get out of hand."

"Aerial cavalry assault?" Jasper remarked.

Wasn't this just about the saddest cavalry he had ever seen. A cavalry of one, even if it was two skilled warriors on a dragon, was still hardly a cavalry. Though Jasper figured it probably didn't matter much all things considered. All that mattered was that they touched down and cleaned house. Sure as the Jedi Master lived, he would be cleaning house. Something was going to bite steel today.

Jasper took a moment to unfurl a scroll he had slung over his shoulder, assessing the runes he had written upon it. Kahlil Noble probably hadn't thought of using these things the way he was about to. Or maybe he had and just never shared it. He liked to think he was trying to be creative with the skills he had been so graciously given by his senior Master. Satisfied that the characters were all in order he returned the scroll to his back, shifting his attention back to the temple that lie before them.

"Right, here's the plan," he began. "Fortunately it's quite simple. We're finding the strongest guy here and killing them. Any questions?"

 

[Azurine Varek]

The Fight Begins Anew

Outfit: Clothing | Glove
Weapons: Lightsaber | Vibrosword

It made a lot more sense than Azzie cared to admit that Master Vanagor's response to her question was to simply just run right past her without a single word spoken, only a battle cry. To someone else, they might have taken it as rude, but frankly, she saw it as a bit of a breath of fresh air, even in a moment ripe with uncertainties. Since she'd been brought to Coruscant, she'd felt consistently watched and frequently out of place. Clearly, word travels fast when the Grandmaster takes on a new apprentice. Even more so when that apprentice is technically around 920 years old when including the centuries spent in stasis. The way he reacted to her now reminded her of someone she once fought with back then, making it much easier for her to push through her tangling of emotions and keep the darkness deep within her from surfacing.

"Alright then, just don't let the shuttle door hit you where mother nature split you," she joked and bolted out of after him, hoping to lighten her own fears and maybe dispel some of his grumpiness (Of course she didn't expect it to actually accomplish the latter, but she couldn't be blamed for trying), afterwards echoing his words with all the conviction and Iridonian fiery spirit she could muster, "For Tython!"

She charged forward straight into the fight, igniting the lightsaber held tightly in her prosthetic hand and casting a piercing yellow glow across her face from it's light. With her vibrosword in the other hand, she was quick to deflect bolts of energy as if she was using a bladed staff rather than two individual blades. The time for quick jokes had passed. She didn't hesitate, the sight of a battlefield and Imperial soldiers was nothing new to her in the slightest. She knew perfectly well that one wrong move could be the difference between life and spending the next week in a bacta tank at best, even experienced that outcome first hand.

Her moves were swift and agile, using acrobatics, flips, and channeling the force into her jumps to secure her positions as well as help fortify Master Vanagor's flank. Never let your comrades six go unguarded. He definitely had most of it covered on his own though, and she observed with a sense of awe at his aura while he moved, glowing with a strength of light and fury that amazed her.

It was then that she felt that deep cold swim through her mind, sending shivers throughout her body, and she flipped around to face the acolyte that had engaged with Caltin. Her eyes went wide, but that darkness wasn't near like some presences she had gone toe to toe with before. Not enough to make her freeze for more than a quick second, and she recovered quickly. Even then, she quickly decided that her best bet would be to keep back the soldiers while he took care of them. So, she kept her focus lasered onto the soldiers to keep any of them from getting to close.

She fought like she knew where the next bolt would come from, sometimes not having to turn around to deflect one heading straight for her back. Let no one ever say that her strength of will and her strength of the force wasn't formidable even if not fully trained. Extending one of her hands outward, her violet eyes flashed with manipulation she pushed forward. Sleep, the command was sent out to their mind continuously until she felt their drowsiness take over and she watched as a soldier dropped to the ground, completely out cold. When her previous master had performed that skill, he could send multiple people into a deep sleep at once, maybe in the future she'd master it as well.

Allies: Caltin Vanagor | Enemies: Kaleb Sunwalker | Nearby(?): Hwo Matsu Ike Jonyna Si Rayia Si

(*edit: Half my post got erased on the first attempt getting it sent, thank you google docs for saving it. It has now been properly fixed. I'm sorry!)
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[Rayia Si]

Location: Objective One, Akar Kesh
Allies: Jonyna Si , @Others
Opponent: Ibaris Varanin

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Rayia grit her teeth and buried her face into the soft fabric of the blue jacket before her as the wind rushed by her. She was loath to admit it, but speeders still caused her some discomfort despite her multiple experiences upon them. A Felacatian’s tail was a highly sensitive sensory organ, capable of detecting the smallest vibration of movement within proximity a good distance away from the individual. As a result, riding a speeder still felt as if the ground was plucked from her feet.

‘At least I’m down here though. Not falling endlessly as I would be up there,’ thought Rayia as she withdrew her tail into its sheath at the base of her spine. It helped with the motion sickness somewhat. Looking up, she could spot the silhouette of windships descending from the stars. Ferrying troops to where they needed to go.

A touch of an emotion so raw and undefined suffused Rayia at Jonyna’s worrying that she found she had lost her voice. She could hear the bestial side of her rattling its chains as it picked up on the thundering boom of Rayia’s heart in her ears. Was this feeling surprise? Doubt? Worry? Pride? Rayia couldn’t say. The booming drowned everything else out. She had fought with Jonyna before against the Mandalorians. And Jonyna hadn’t worried quite this much. And yet, things were different now. Rayia had a… mother now.

Rayia understood now that the woman on Weik who had given her a dreadful task; from whom she had escaped as soon as she could. That woman was not fit to carry the title. The moment of silence lingered as Jonyna would feel Rayia’s hands squeezing her shoulders.

“You’d better be,” Rayia said, her golden eyes burning intensely. Her force signature, like a flame verging on breaching containment, flared wildly. Rayia did not fight for ego, honor, or the like. In fact, sometimes she struggled with comprehending the concepts. So foreign were they to her primal half. She imagined that some of her fellows might even complain that she fought dirty. But she was a huntress and her opponents were prey. Simple as that.

But if something happened to her mother, Rayia knew with certainty, she would become something… dangerous.

 

[Valek Zuraxin]

Location: Akar Tsis, Chamber
Enemies: Galactic Alliance, Valery Noble

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Zuraxin felt pleased when he sensed the overwhelming feeling of the light surround the Citadel. B3 had returned upon making the preparations, the door to the chamber sealing close with the Imperial Guard recalled to stand guard on the inside. For all intents and purposes he perpetuated the illusion of Darth Solipsis, it would remain as such until the Grandmasters arrival, he looked forward to finally meeting her, intent to showing her the extent of his hospitality. “Master. The Jedi they are fast approaching. My sensors indicate several of them may have breeches the Citadel.” Zuraxin leaned forward, the various machines he was hooked to moved in tandem, another wheeze came from his breathing apparatus. “Good… I can sense her… She is still unaware…” Despite some irritation, the clarity in his tone expressed just how pleased he was. His hands was still clasped pensively.

“I’ve done as you asked, Master. The way has been clear for the Jedi to enter the chamber.” B3 said, though Zuraxin did sense some slight concern. The Sith Lord had nothing to fear, not from a Jedi Master, he had waited years to make his move, no longer would Solipsis rule the universe, as Zuraxin behaved as all Sith had done before him and after him. “Fear not, my old friend. No harm will come to us, I want to see just how entertaining this little Jedi is.” Zuraxin said, the mechanical tone switched from slight irritation to enthusiastic anticipation.

The obsidian played protocol droid would stick to the side of Zuraxin, while the Sith Lord reached out to the Jedi spread all over the Temple. The intense waves of darkness now moved to cut off each one. No one was allowed to enter save for the Grandmaster, her friends would not allowed to follow the path.

Lightning from the Force Storms would crackle through the skies, the flashes reflected throughout the Temple. The activation of her lightsaber echoed, as through the opening of the chamber could he see the silhouette. His voice echoed throughout the Temple, a dark mechanical tone sounded out expectant of her arrival.


“At Last,” The voice would call out to the Grandmaster as she inched closer to the mysterious pale man pulling the strings.

 

[Efret Farr]

"Stay close."

The computerized voice produced by her vocoder as she signed was barely audible. Efret had aired on the side of safety when she set the volume after they had left the temporary operating base at the far edge of the dense forest leading to what was now Akar Tsis. Now, as she led Cailen through the undergrowth, it would be even harder to hear her. Leaves rustled and twigs cracked under their feet, but at least the sounds of battle were far off and thus didn't further muffle the voice.

With any favor from their side of the Force, it would stay that way. Both padawan and master held fast their own anxieties about being on Tython. Efret knew that she herself would be very happy with not having to fight and she imagined a similar sentiment held true for him.

She had neglected to tell him when the subject of this very offensive came up after she rescued him in the Sanrafsix Corridor what her track record with them was. How she had survived the last two altercations she had been part of—on Jedha and at Coruscant—felt very much like consecutive flukes. And if they were, what was the chance that she would make in off Tython alive too?

No. No. She couldn't think like that. It was a foregone conclusion. She would manage as she had before.

It wasn't even principally a survival instinct driving her in that either; it was an even more deeply-seated desire to protect Cailen from a repeated trauma.

Post 01
Cailen Corso​

 

[Dyans Keto]

Post: 2
Location: Akar Tsis, Tython
Theme: Vendetta
Equipment: Krath Holy Battle Suit | Krath blood blade(Dagger) | Krath Dire Sword | x2 Stiletto Knives
Allies: Dark Empire
Enemies: Galactic Alliance
Tags: Tycho Arak

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Dyan's let out a little growl under her breath as mental intrusion interrupted her train of thought as she was being led to the Emperor's location. It halted her steps as so did the guard leading her steps halt. The guard turned to her, but she put up her hand to stop him from speaking.

An image of her appeared behind Tycho Arak its right arm raised palm out middle, index and thumb fingers out. A force blast irrupted from the hand and went hurling towards the man who had just cut one of her childer in half. Then the image spoke. "What are you supposed to be? Jedi? Sith? Someone who has a hero complex but can't decide?" She could go on and tell him how the man he slaughtered was a poor man who was born to nothing and had nothing. How her kind had lifted him up out of sucking abyss of poverty, gave him purpose and meaning but she doubted the man before her image would care.

She could go on some diatribe about how Jedi where all the same claiming moral superiority while destroying the worlds they inhabited and the common folk around them. Again, it would be lost on him they had no self-awareness of their own destruction and evils. Evils only create more evils, that is exactly what the Jedi had done over the centuries. Dyan's was aware of her own evil, but she did it to fight the root of the problem.

Though the illusion wasn't as strong as the real deal it could cause harm and wear down the threat. So, it unsheathed its sword and came at the Jedi with a left to right downward swing aiming for where the neck met the shoulder.

The real Dyan's turned to her guard. "I have to go deal with an annoyance; the Emperor will have to wait for now." No doubt he was already dealing with his own matters. "Tell the nobles, to enact order Alpha if don't make it back." Order Alpha was just a contingency plan in case she would fall in battle again to ensure the Krath had proper leadership. She then turned around and headed back the way she came to go face this arrogant Jedi. In the meantime her illusion could keep him occupied.

 

[Tycho Arak]

Shuttle: Rapid Assault Lander
Outfit: Sentinel Standard - Olive Drab Tunic
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tags: Dyans Keto

In an instant there was a presence behind him and he whirled about just in time to see a hand move. In response, he created a bubble of the Force around himself, which deflected her blast away from him, upheaving turf and bodies of Sithspawn alike. A powerful move, to be sure, but one easily defeated by quick reactions, and Tycho was nothing if not quick to react. That was the nature of his training to be a Kage warrior. Striking first wasn't always possible. Reacting to strikes was often a necessity.

"What I am is of little consequence," he said, studying the woman before him.

No, not the real woman. There was no way she'd been hiding there the whole time and hadn't struck when he was busy fighting her child. A projection? No, it had affected the Force at him, and drew its blade with the intent to attack. Wait, he vaguely remembered something from his studies. Yes, this could be that. Most likely it was. A means to confuse him, a measure to throw him off. But he was already within a bubble, there was little need on his behalf to do more to see if what he thought was true, was.

He lifted a hand and motioned for her to come at him, but seemed entirely unbothered. Undoubtedly he would be antagonized for this, but no amount of goading or arrogance would work against him. Nor would her arguments about the evils of the Jedi and such. He knew full well that Jedi were still imperfect and always would be. The difference between them and the woman in front of him was intentions. He knew the intentions of the Jedi and he knew his own. Justice would be served that day, at his own hand, but only when the moment was right.

"Show me your power. Let us see if it will save you."

​

 

[Khamul Kryze]

The Unchained

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam

Engaging: Pollux

Totem

The Jedi always insisted on coming back...

They were like vermin slinking their way back from the depths, their foolish beliefs acting as the lifeline that kept them from falling into the great abyss. To rely on something so blindly was sickening... Khamul could almost gag from the mere thought of such weakness. His stomach was stronger than that though, so instead he'd settle for killing as many of the pests as possible...

"Mand'alor, it appears followers of the heretic Jenn Kryze are aiding the Alliance."

His masked gaze turned toward the loyal soldier, his anger burning through the t-visor as his mask pulsed red through its Sarrassian Iron seams. Why did his people always insist on falling for the Jedi's false promises of peace? Didn't they know that the very notion went against everything they stood for? The Jedi should fear them, not bark orders to them as if they were mere beasts. For all Khamul had been called through the years, at least he knew he was doing what he wanted on his own terms... regardless of what his heretical kin may think.

"It matters little. They will submit to their true Mand'alor, or die. Ready the Hand, we will meet them with blood and beskar."

As the faithful members of Death's Hand gathered, Khamul looked across the liminal space between him and those he would soon crush under his boot. He stepped forth, placing himself a few paces ahead of his fellow Mandalorians, and with a swift, menacing turn, he would begin to address the Devout.

"My Vode, I have never liked to dwell on words too much, for my actions have always spoken louder than I ever could. On this day, those actions will not only be mine, but each of yours as well. Let your bodies scream to the heavens with glorious fury as we crush all who stand in our path."

A brief pause followed as he took a moment to scan the ranks of his force, his hand itching to draw his dread blade and let it taste blood once more.

"A new power is rising. Its victory is at hand. This day, the land will be stained with the blood of the heretic. Leave none alive..."

Those closest to him began slamming their fists against their chests to a silent drum, a hellish rhythm that cascaded along their ranks until all were in sync with the brutish sound of beskar clanging against beskar. The sound would echo across the field of battle, and through his mask, a wicked smile produced itself upon the Unchained's face.

SNAP-HISS...

Mandalore's Lament came to life in a vicious flash, sparks of crimson arcing across the blackened plasma of the glowing blade.

"TO WAR!!!"

Fists shot in the air as the cheers of Death's Hand rose into a fiendish symphony of guttural brutality that could be heard across the battlefield. Khamul turned, his sights set upon the bloody task at hand...

To war, indeed...

 

[Kaleb Sunwalker]

Location: Akar Tsis
Enemies: Caltin Vanagor
Azurine Varek

Kaleb had narrowed his eyes, the guns that kept firing on the transports had destroyed a few, but it clearly wasn’t enough to stop the Jedi and the Inquisitor had knew it. Still he continued to hold his ground, his saber was raised defensively as if he himself reverted to his Jedi days, now the New Jedi Order were coming right towards him. The guns kept firing in hopes of destroying much of the transports as possible, but as squads of Jedi and Alliance soldiers started to land around the platforms, Stormtroopers would rush to and fro from the opening of the Citadel, followed by any Sith able to wield a saber.

Kaleb would stand his ground, deflecting blaster bolts as he rushed in. His Zeyd-Cloth cape would sway as he had rushed into the fray. First Alliance soldier he could find, his saber had cut right through. There was a blazing fury in his yellow gaze as he moved to strike one soldier after the other. “Drive them back, drive them back! We must hold them here!” Did Kaleb shout loudly, the stormtroopers held tightly to the heated barrels of blaster rifles, one bolt hitting after the other. It was not enough, some of the Stormtroopers would drop blasters in favor of all out melee with Alliance soldiers while Kaleb continued to slash and strike with saber in hand, a few bolts hitting his armor, but he failed to register the pain. Instead he would use it to fuel his anger.

Throughout the cliff side was crowded between Imperial and Alliance soldiers. Blaster fire mixed the the crescendo of shouts and screams. Kaleb gritted his teeth, clenched the metallic hilt of his saber as he kept cutting a swathe of carnage. Inch by inch did he start to run out of room, feeling himself quickly boxed in, a hardened fist smashing through the helmet of one alliance soldier, another had a saber burning through his chest. All the while did Kaleb howl with fury, giving in completely to his anger.

Through the frenzy of Imperials and Alliance, he fixated his gaze on two Jedi before him. This Jedi was cutting his own path of carnage, the two of them close to rush head on. He started to move slow, cautious hoping that the chaos of battle would grant him the element of surprise. He mixed into fray of Stormtroopers and Alliance soldiers, of Jedi and Sith. He snuck his way around until he found an opening. The crimson blade let out a savage hum, the mad inquisitor letting out a Sith battle cry as he attempted to launch the first strike towards Caltin’s back, hoping for a deep, brutal slash of his red blade across the man’s back hoping to use the madness of the battle to his advantage.
​

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

LOCATION: Tython | OBJECTIVE: 1 | POST #: 1
TAG (ALLIES) : Azurine Varek | Hwo | Matsu Ike
TAG (FOES) : Kaleb Sunwalker

Objective I — Akar Kesh​

Jedi Master Caltin Vanagor stood at the walk up entrance path of the Sith corrupted Temple of Harmony from the old training grounds, his lightsaber ignited and ready for battle. The ancient temple loomed before him, its dark aura sending shivers down his spine. Shivers of anger that he did not bother to hide. Caltin had never been one to mince words or hide from his emotions. But he was determined to enter, to confront the source of this Dark Side power that was calling to him, mocking him, taunting him. He did not know the Dark Side Elite Kaleb Sunwalker and frankly did not care about it but he was going to engage and put an end to his reign of terror.

Beside him stood his young Padawan, a determined look in her eyes. He didn’t know who she was, only that he had seen her once landing on the planet. Apparently she was insistent on following him into the temple. Who are you? He knew she was strong in the Force, strong enough for a Padawan, but he also knew the dangers that lay ahead. She would only slow him down, she was not his Padawan, so he could not simply go by her connection to the Force, he did not know her and therefore in that regard did not trust her. He would have to protect her at all costs.

If you are determined to latch on to me, you are going to do exactly what I say, when I say it. If I tell you to attack, you attack, if I tell you to cover, you cover, if I tell you to run, you run. No comments, no questions, just “Yes, Master” if you understand. If you do not wish to comply, turn tail and make way back to the shuttle now.

That was on her if she had issue with what he just said, he didn't have time for babysitting. As they made their way through the dark path leading up to the temple, Caltin could feel the presence of the dark side growing stronger. The air was thick with malice, and he could sense the malevolent energy drawing closer. The look of the Temple that once inspired him, even in it’s overgrowth, abandoned state at times that once inspired him was nothing more that the feeling of bile in the pit of his stomach.

Suddenly, they were ambushed by a trio of Sith acolytes, triplets at that, their red lightsabers glowing in the darkness. Caltin sprang into action, deflecting their attacks, redirecting them into each other’s, they were no threat to him, but he did not know about his tagalong, so he had to show her how to handle groups, just in case. The Iridonian fought bravely by his side, her yellow lightsaber flashing in the dim light. That “sleep” trick of hers was a nice one, he would have to begrudgingly admit.

They fought their way up to the temple, facing obstacle after obstacle as they neared their goal. Finally, they reached the sanctum, where Kaleb Sunwalker awaited them. In fact his move to catch Caltin from behind worked fairly well. Caltin knew he was close enough for a strike but was busy cutting his way through Acolytes and Stormtroopers. It didn’t matter at this point as he felt the burning singe of the lightsaber cutting the backplate of his armor off. It was a one time shot and forced him to shed his chest piece as well.

NOW he was ticked off.

The Dark Side Elite was strong in the Force and looked to be a formidable opponent, his power radiating off him in waves. But Caltin was not impressed, in fact, he was disgusted.

You were once a Jedi… nothing worse than an honorable sentient who takes the easy way out. Was it a taunt? Maybe.

Was it mockery? Probably.

Was it going to get under Sunwalker’s skin? Probably not.

Was it how Caltin felt? You betcha.

Don’t say that I had never taught you anything, Padawan. The biggest lesson you can learn from me is that the life of a Jedi is not easy, but taking the path of a Sith? Well, nothing is forever, but true “power” comes from staying true to yourself and not… taking the easy way out.

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[Dyans Keto]

Post: 3
Location: Akar Tsis, Tython
Theme: Vendetta
Equipment: Krath Holy Battle Suit | Krath blood blade(Dagger) | Krath Dire Sword | x2 Stiletto Knives
Allies: Dark Empire
Enemies: Galactic Alliance
Tags: Tycho Arak

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The Dopplegänger took several steps back as its attack failed only hitting the force bubble around the man. He taunted the Dopplegänger, trying to goad it into attacking him again with all it had. Yet all the image did was step back, reversing the grip on its sword and sticking the tip into the ground out in front of it. Holding it into the ground it put the palm of its other hand on the pommel.

The sword began to vibrate, and blue lightening began to swirl down it sparking and spiting until it hit the ground. "Very well of little consequence." An electrified force shockwave came out from the tip of the sword which was being used as the focal point. The wave started and spread fast and bigger into a hundred- and twenty-degree arc. The ground ripping up the earth as it exploded across the field towards it's intended target. The Dopplegänger returned its grip to normal as it pulled the sword from the ground, the man being bubbled caused it not to strike out instead it went into a defensive stance.

Dyans herself moved across the battlefield outside the temple. As she moved across the field she ran into troops on both sides of the conflict. As she did, she killed and feed off any that got in her way to keep her strength up. She fed off the very life force in people leaving behind nothing more than dried husks in her wake. Corpses lined her path as she made her way towards the arrogant jedi that dared to call her out. As she feed on her way her eyes went from Jade to red, the nails on fingers grew and ripped through the tips of her glove. She began to grow about a foot taller and her features became more animalistic.

She was close she could feel, smell it, and taste it. The vita of a strong jedi, or what even he was. Here movements speed up as her transformation began to take place and the hunger grew stronger wanting to gorge more. She would take the very vita from the world if she could, to make it her own. All her senses where now heightened and she could hear the sounds of the scuffle just ahead. Her dark cloud could now be easily felt, as she didn't even try to hide her approach.

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

The clone troopers pressed in relentlessly on the temple grounds position, fighting through jungle, debris, and ruins. They were a first wave attack, flanked by both Plague Droidekas and their own Droid Equipment. The doctrine of the Offense Trooper was constant aggression, never letting up on siege attempts, clearing the way for other troopers.

OT-701 had his carbine on full auto as he led his squad in assaulting a gun emplacement. The natural marksman ship of clones allowing him and his team to land eerily accurate sprays of fire on everyone firing at them with a repeater whose model they didn't recognize. There was a lot of things they didn't recognize, but their blasters still worked, and some of their members were equipped with seeker rail detonators, allowing for a long distance explosive punch.

Personally, he was wondering if they might not need an update of their weaponry soon. The Sith Armor took a good number of shots to punch through, even if it did stagger the soldier wearing it. Even their armor piercing grenades barely seemed able to punch through it.

The sound of the Hum moving through the air and screams caught his attention, and he and his squad mates, trained from birth in such potential scenarios, knew how bad the situation was as a flaming Droid Tri-Fighter was hurled in his way that he barely dodged. He opened fire as soon as he saw the red blade and the black cloak storming towards them, ripping through two of his men, forced to back off from the Plague Droideka that was with him firing it's laser that swept through the air where he was, making him leap with the Force away, throwing his lightsaber, though to his surprise the strange golden droid managed to catch the hilt with his vibroblade, slicing it in half.

A snarl escaped the Sith's throat as lightning arced between his fingers but the other Clones and Droideka's had already closed in and begun firing from all sides.

Force Waves erupted from his hands, sending three here and there flying, electrocuting others with lightning, But too many blue bolts and Seeker Bolts were flying his way and he was rapidly turned in chunky salsa by the devastating barrage.

"Checking hostile." 701 confirmed, breathing heavily as he approached, carbine aimed.

A frightful roar escaped the corpse and a red energy lanced through it as the Sith hovered, remaining in his body by nothing but pure hatred as he began flinging red lightning, forcing the clone to fire at the seemingly unstoppable Sith now being peppered by blaster and laser fire.

"Super Nexu One to Bantha Barn! Need a needle threaded!" 701 yelled out as more of his men were exploded by lightning.

"Copy. Needle threading..."

A red beam the width of a soda can lanced out from the Plague Destroyer above, aided by its onboard Electro-Telescopes. A deadly lancing through the skull, the targeting programs in orbit having timed it perfectly, turning the corpse that has been slaughtering his unit to dust.

This time, nothing seemed to come back from the dead.

"Needle threaded..." The A.I. monitoring orbital space strikes transmitted. "Standing by for more sewing instructions..."

"Y'know, the people who grew us had a very...odd...sense of humor..." His second, OT-0056, remarked.

"I heard that." The A.I. Hive Mind guiding the Destroyer in orbit above chirped even as it coordinated its defense against starfighters and other ships engaging it, trying to target high value Sith vessels like Anti-Starfighter vessels.

"And it's bloody nosy..." The clone grumbled.

"How many did we lose?" 701 asked.

"Eight. Four left. Lost the Droideka too..."

"Strip them for ammo and spare weapons, and destroy any identifying information," 701 ordered. There was no time to mourn the lost. Only a time to crush the Sith.

They took a defensive position while the bodies were stripped, 701 forced to fire at skirmishers and scouts to keep their position from being overwhelmed. He was running low on ammo. The Tri-Fighters streaked over them strafing Dark Empire squads on the ground even as they themselves were chased by starfighters. He saw more red beams of light lance down from orbit, cutting through enemy squads, especially squads trying to get close enough to Jedi to fire on them. As always, they took advantage of the given chaos of a battlefield, on the fact most Jedi and Alliance soldiers were too busy staying alive to really have time to ask who else was firing on the Sith. The TIE/SRRET shuttles rushed from high speed over head, their single frontal laser cannon firing as they landed to pick up the injured, Clone, or Jedi alike, deposit replacement troops or supplies, and their rear laser cannon firing to cover departures.

One of the shuttles got shot down and it crashlanded in the jungles and ruins ahead of them.

"Move forward! Look for survivors!" 701 ordered as the survivors scrambled behind him, moving rapidly to the flaming wreckage only to come under heavy mortar fire.

"Bantha Barn! Sweep! SWEEP!" he yelled into his comms unit.

"Unable to comply. Hostiles are too well concealed. Superior targeting data needed for Sweep."

701 cursed as a mortar shell exploded close by.

"Five-Six, that Recon Drone of yours still work?" 701 asked 0056.

"Fully functional!"

"You control that drone and get it to take photos where you see smoke or flash! I'll draw it's fire!" 701 yelled. Running from cover and firing on full auto, facing a maelstrom of artillery shells of various deadly payloads he barely escaped as he dived behind a fallen tree, returning fire as the shell partly splintered on impact from a nearby shell, sending small wood slivers into his side.

Red beams lanced from orbit onto artillery positions, causing massive explosions in the tree line.

701 pulled himself up, clutching his side as his team rushed to him. He could see Tri-Fighters firing on Sith reinforcements from above. But the temple is was in reach.

"Check that shuttle!" The clone yelled, and the others all rushed to it, even as the medic injected him with pain killers and Bacta-Meds, pulling out and sealing his wounds up.

The others pried open the shuttle.

"Mortars, sir!" one Clone called out. "Looks like some of our boys were about to shell this place!"

"Let's not waste the ammo!" Get into position! What's our ordinance?" 701 asked.

"Plasma."

"The good stuff. Seems the boss is buying high end now..." 701 remarked, before pointing to the temple.

"SHELL IT AND ANYONE DEFENDING IT!"


Meanwhile...

A HAET gunship burned in at high speed dodging enemy fire as it came to a stop in ruins close to the temple itself, where there was severe fighting and a squad of heavily armed Clone Rangers along with two Droid Marines along with a Engineer Battle Droid and quickly got out and began moving through the ruins rapidly, soon coming under fire, only for the enemy to be silenced by deadly accurate shots from the sniper configured rifles some possessed. They communicated mostly via hand signals, maintaining comm silence as they reached an area close to the temple, where they spotted Nathan skewering yet another Sith, muttering about the purging of heresy under his breath like so many of his ancestors had in the past. He vanished and reappeared like a ghost, having taken a separate route to getting inside from either Caltin Vanagor or Valery Noble , as he brutally cut down Dark Empire soldiers. Unlike a lot of other times, this action really WAS more in line with the religious fanaticism of his family in ages past, and for a frightening moment he reflected on just how similar he was in practice to Elaine Tear, the woman who had murdered his parents.

Was that Elaine's final revenge on him, Nathan thought once more as he signalled the Clone Rangers to him. To drive him to such a point in his life that he ended up ultimately validating her most decrepit zealotry?

It was hard not to be a fanatic.

He shut it out as he has signalled them to toss him the Det packs they had and he stuck them against the translucent surface, but not before imbuing them with Green Lightning.

"Get back." he ordered, and they all bolted as the counter ticked down, before a mighty explosion erupted on the side of the temple, powerful enough to tear a breach into its innards like some sort of light side bunker buster.

He rushed in with his team, already hearing the snap hiss of lightsabers echoing off in the inside as he felt the evil of the temple press in on him

Dyans Keto

Tycho Arak

Azurine Varek

Kaleb Sunwalker

Khamul Kryze

Jenn Kryze

 

[Azurine Varek]

The Fight Begins Anew

Outfit: Clothing | Glove
Weapons: Lightsaber | Vibrosword

"Azurine Varek, Sir," Azzie quickly shared her name, being as respectful as she could while turning to deflect a bolt that had been heading towards his shoulder, following with a backflip into a position at his other side. Kynn had once told her how Form IV, Ataru, had been her biggest strength when it came to saber that he had observed, so it was usually her focus in a fight. She did, however, throw it a little bit for a loop since she carried a lightsaber and a vibrosword as well, incorporating techniques she'd mastered from her childhood training with the Iridonian Zhaboka.

"Master Valery Noble instructed me to stick close to another master if possible, and you were the first one I noticed. I don't necessarily have a problem with going it alone, though."

Her words faltered a little bit at the end. Though she was usually a pretty good liar, there was a fear she felt grip her heart when her violet gaze was drawn directly to the temple enterence and the sheer dark power it seemed to emmit. It was oppressive, a weight of evil pulling at the darkness in her mind and trying everything within its ability to make her submit to that darkness. She'd never seen this before, not in all her years fighting the empire, and going it alone didn't seem like the best idea if she could avoid it. She may be a little spitfire and incredibly strong-willed, but certainly not stupid (at least not all the time).

She could sense his hesitation, and frankly, she understood why. Quickly, she gave a nod and a small salute as he laid down his expectations for her, "Yes, Master! I've been in one fight or another all my life back when I fought in the first rebel alliance, I promise you I can keep up. Don't worry about me," she tried to assure him, giving the best grin she could while the lightning of the force storm flashed behind her into the night. If they both got out of this in one piece, she could elaborate on her statement at that point. For now, there was work to be done, and she certainly didn't have much time to run her mouth any further.

Eventually, they reached the sanctum, fighting through one after another. An image flashed through her mind, the battle precognition at work; a dark red saber blade, and her eyes widened. She flipped around, hoping to block the attack on the master before it landed but she was clearly too late for that. She'd have to be faster from this point forward, and she knew that. The darkness he carried, his aura as sickly freezing like ice and piercing red as the blade he held. It felt as strong as the inquisitor that had once tortured her and she faultered more than she would have liked to admit before she managed to regain her composure. No, she wouldn't be frozen here. Not this time.

She nodded at Master Vanagor's words, making a swift motion with her hand, cloaking herself within the force to render herself invisible to the naked eye. Though she was quite good at it, this took a lot of energy and concentration for her to hold successfully, even for only short bursts of time.

She moved quickly, hoping to position herself at the backside of Kaleb while he was focused on Caltin. As quietly as she could, she then dropped the cloaking and took a swipe at his back with her vibrosword and his back shoulder with the yellow blade of her lightsaber, jumping backward with the signature acrobatics of her form whether or not the strikes actually landed.

She doubted that the manipulation would work on him like it did the soldiers or acolytes, yet she knew she had to at least attempt, so she did. With every ounce of energy she could muster in the moment, she pushed the suggestion at Kaleb's mind, Sleep.

Allies: Caltin Vanagor | Enemies: Kaleb Sunwalker | Nearby(?): Leaving blank for now because tagging is hard
​

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Akar Kesh, Sith Temple
Objective: Disrupt defenses for the main attack force
Tag: Ellayina L'lerim

Outside of the Sith temple, a small party of Jedi had broken away from the main alliance attack force. Due to their small numbers, they managed to break through their lines and reach the Sith temple swiftly. However, that didn't mean they hadn't come across any resistance. Along the way, a patrol of Sith and soldiers had spotted them and took the wind out of their sails. The enemy had caught them by surprise and some in their group were not prepared for what was to come.

They once had eight, now there were five.

Coming to a halt next to a stairway, Silas turned to the remaining Jedi who were still with him "We are here brothers, the entrance to the temple is just up ahead" the knight stated as he looked at each one of them with fire in his eyes. Silas as well as those who survived were clearly devasted by the loss they had already sustained, but they had no time to mourn in this environment. They had to keep going for them, or else their lives and dedication to the force would have been for nothing.

"Yes indeed, but our numbers have dwindled since our journey. What would be our course of action?" during their rundown at the Jedi temple, they were advised to stay in at least groups of two to try and carry out the disruption of four vital defenses. Communication, reinforcements, supply lines, and morale. Having these weakened before the main attack force arrived would greatly help them in capturing the temple and reduce losses, yet that was going to be a challenge with uneven numbers.

"We will have to only carry out three instead. It will be impossible to carry out the original plan, so we must make do" Silas said to the group as he began to explain his initiative "I will volunteer to go by myself to disrupt their communications, the rest of you will need to go in twos and focus on their supply lines and morale." The knight said, their heads slowly nodding in agreement "We must be swift and fast with our actions, else I fear there will be no escape. Make our fallen proud and fulfill their duty, their bravery today will not be forgotten along with our deaths"

Silas turned back to the stairway, slowly twirling his lightsaber calmly and calmly taking a deep breath to prepare himself for the storming of a side entrance "Stay strong, and may the force be with you all" he said with one last horah before everyone jolted towards the protect entrance with purpose.

Whatever came next was for the force to decide.
​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery stepped through the grand entrance of the Sith throne room, her fiery gaze locking onto the figure seated in the dimly lit chamber. A lone silhouette amidst the oppressive darkness, he sat upon an elevated throne, his pale form shrouded in shadows and machinery. The cold light reflected off a single, glaring red eye, casting eerie glints across his metallic frame. Mechanical breath echoed through the room, a constant, rhythmic sound that punctuated the silence like the beating of a malevolent heart.

For a moment, she took in the sight of him — the intricate machinery entwined around his body, the cables, and tubes that seemed to merge man and machine into a grotesque parody of life. This was no ordinary Sith. Whoever he was, his power was formidable, and his presence alone distorted the air, making it feel heavy and suffocating.

Yet, despite the discomfort, Valery's resolve only hardened.

The Sith Lord's voice called out to her, dripping with anticipation. "At last."

Valery didn't flinch. Instead, she lifted her chin, her violet blade casting a soft glow around her, a beacon of light against the encroaching darkness. "So you're the one hiding in the shadows," she said, her tone steady and unwavering. "The one twisting the minds of those defending this temple."

She took another step forward, bringing herself closer to him but keeping a respectful distance, her eyes never leaving his. "But I've never seen you before. Who are you, and why go through all this trouble just to lure me here?" Valery's voice held a note of challenge, her expression daring him to reveal his true motives.

"Are you just another Sith craving power and control?" she asked, her words sharp, cutting through the thick tension in the air. "Or is there something else behind all of this?" Her gaze bore into his, searching for any sign of weakness, any flicker of emotion that might give her a clue to his intentions.

Valek Zuraxin ​

 

[Zhea Nox]

ECLIPSE
AKAR TSIS | TYTHON
ALLIES: Simon Meinrad | GA
ENEMIES: DE
ENGAGING: Cesare Demici

DRUMS OF THUNDER​

This was hers to see through.

Simon had no choice in the matter. One look at her face had told him that she would head to Tython - with or without him. It had also been one of the few instances she had even properly spoken to him since Coruscant.

It had taken longer than it ever did before for Zhea to regain her balance in the Force since that fateful battle. The only solace she had, was that the Alliance and the Order had been able to repel the Empire. One does not say how - the loss of life in order to do it had been immense. She, herself, carried the psychological and emotional scars from the confrontation and she had felt the loss of so many souls as they had departed the planet.

Zhea had ensured Simon's survival as they reached...home. After that, she had withdrawn, meditating for days at a time to settle her soul which had been torn asunder by the onslaught of Darkness. It took more than a month. When she finally regained some semblance of balance, it had come with a renewed resolve - the Light had to shine brighter than ever.

She had felt the whispers in the Force of regaining the ancient seat of the Jedi - of the Light, despite the loss of its moon. Especially because of its loss all those years ago. She had heeded the call and resolved to lend her saber to the reclamation.

"Watch!"

Zhea flung her arm against Simon's chest to stop him and his men in turn. She had felt the echoes left by the Children of Bogan - where they walked and where the Force traps were. Some, she and Simon could dispel, others, they had to avoid by detours.

This was one of them.

Anger swept through the Kiffar for a moment. How this planet had been desecrated. It screamed in pain and it echoed through her. How much this ground had suffered in the last decade. A fire blazed in her sky-coloured eyes - they'll bring Tython from the brink again and it will endure once more.

The Jedi just had to do their part

After another detour, they found themselves at what was once the Temple of Balance - a place that remained so close to her soul. To any Consular's. Its very ground wailed and warned against going further. The Darkness permeating from within was sickening. It took all of Zhea's resistance not to heave up last night's dinner. The Shadow already started eating at her, draining her. Dark battle-meditation. If she had been here to reason, it would have balked her and dropped her to her knees once more.

But what not even her significant other knew, was that she wasn't here to be the usual voice for peace. That time had passed the moment a very child she had taught once how to become a Jedi, had bled his crystal right in her face and tried to kill her with it. Talking someone down from the edge had failed. How long before it was one of her former Padawans? Evan Haywood, Vaylaar D'artagnan and Varen Ardos' faces appeared in her mind's eye. One thing she was sure of - she would not see one of her own Fall. She would see an end to the Dark influence in the Galaxy before that happened.

Standing at the top of the steps, there was a faint call of pain echoing from within, almost drowning out the presence of other Jedi nearby from her consciousness. Though, it was more of a whisper calling, asking her to release it from the hell it was caught in. Something had happened in there that she was sure would cut her to the bone the moment she made contact with the cobblestone, but the very core of what made someone a Jedi drove her to ensure the Light shone on this planet once more.

That balance would be returned to this very place.

She looked at Simon, her face pale and gaunt from the onslaught of Darkness, but resolve etched into every line on it.
"I'm going in there. I love you but if you follow, I swear to you now that if, at any point, you tap into the Darkness again, I will end you myself and deal with its emotional consequences later. Am I clear, Simon?"

With that, she took off into the dreaded Temple, heeding the painfilled whisper echoing from within and gritting her teeth against the Dark influence wanting to drive her to her knees.

 

[Onrai]

Allies: Ellayina L'lerim Kaleb Sunwalker
Enemies: Braze Jasper Kai'el Raphael Gallustrade Nathan Bloodscrawl Matsu Ike Caltin Vanagor Thirdas Heavenshield Silas Westgard

Onrai stood and watched as ships began to land within the vicinity of the templescape. Ancillary forces were met with blaster fire as Onrai herself waited at the entrance of the temple. Already she could sense it from the environment itself - there were Jedi whose intentions and foci were on her and her alone. This was her temple, and she would be contemptuous to allow any of them to claim it, regardless of whatever other duels were expected to take place. Soon enough, their approach was evident, and fire began to rain on the approaching Jedi, ranging from the radiation weapons of Imperial radtroopers to the laser cannons and mass drivers of the vehicles providing fire support. Still they came, still they proceeded onwards, a sense of at least a number of the Jedi seeking to create a Wall of Light.

Exactly what she had hoped for.

Onrai focused and drew upon the Light Side energy, bringing it to herself and devouring the power. In its place there was nothing but aberrant shadow, a darkness of an altogether different type from the Sith that had congregated ready to defend the Temple's structure. The more the Jedi exerted on using the Light against their enemy, the stronger she got, the more they supped and sucked the potent Force energy, to be devoured by her own Anti-Force-blighted essence. The Jedi entered the field - one particularly nuisant gnat, Nathan Bloodscrawl , proving particularly potent. A hand raised, the crackling energy of the world drawn to the hand of Onrai as she threw a bolt, a sliver of Tython's congealed lightning at the Jedi as he advanced.

The Jedi Grandmaster, Valery Noble , came to the entrance. For reasons beyond the false goddess's understanding, Valek Zuraxin had insisted she be allowed inside. That an individual who cleaved himself so close to the Emperor believed he had much if any weight in the aftermath of Solipsis' disappearance surprised her, but as the Grandmaster entered, Onrai allowed her in, neither moving away from her nor retreating from her as she walked past, milky eyes and a blank face gazing at Valery with the contempt of a thousand worlds. When she was inside, the door to the temple would close, seal, lock, and leave no easy exit - either the Emperor's Hand would conquer her, or he would be removed from the Empire in a time where weakness was intolerable.

Either option was acceptable.

The burning hatred of Caltin Vanagor as he exited the shuttle and clashed with the initial wave of Imperial regulars made Onrai smile. A man who truly believed in the righteousness of his cause. A man who reminded her of Pietro Demici . This was a man who would not be broken, even by the hardest of Dark Side torments. Yet Onrai taunted the Jedi, the subtle tug of the Anti-Force made against him. There was something aberrant, malevolent on this world. Something that was horribly wrong. Something that stood in the way of the temple's destruction.

As it should be.

Thirdas Heavenshield sought to gain entry through the Temple through the sealed door. An anti-hand, the visual negative of a hand and the arm attached to it, came to his chest, raised by the manifestation of Onrai and pressed gently against his chest. The impetuousness of the Jedi to presume he could simply walk in after his master was something she never understood. For the first time, she spoke to a Jedi on the battlefield.

"No." She said. "This is her fight alone."

Machines functioned, the mechanical Darktroopers firing and continuing to unleash on the onslaught of Jedi and Galactic Alliance forces as they penetrated in. Blaster fire was absorbed by their shields and met with repeaters uttering off barrel by barrel in turn. In the distance, Mandalorians fought Mandalorians as Khamul Kryze 's forces clashed with those of Pollux . Somehow, Nathan Bloodscrawl had managed to penetrate through the barriers of the temple's defenses as a blast ruined the translucent structure of the temple, water running through its crystalline piping pouring down on the abominations. The construct's hand raised, several flashbang grenades detonated directly in the face of the penetrators as they stepped foot within the temple. A half-dozen Oppressor-16 Dark Troopers, still wearing the faded remnants of their old Sith Empire paint, opened fire, the entryway turned into a killzone as six streams of rotary blaster fire crossing and spraying into the interfering Jedi, their feet locked to the metallic surface of the temple's floorplates. Onrai's attention was divided, and soon enough, a fleshy manifestation that seemed to physically be similar to Onrai's shadowed form came from around the corner, an enigmatic rifle held in one hand.

"Enough." An arc of blackened lightning came from her fingers, moved to attempt to electrocute the Jedi and his coterie as they sought entrance into the temple as a spare hand moved to bring forth the rubble from the blast, man-sized blocks of crystal flung towards the breach in an attempt to create a hasty seal. With her free hand, she fired at the breach as well - if the particle beam failed to reinforce the stream of blaster fire and debris, the intense radiation and the particulates from the beam would be enough to keep them away without contracting a case of lethal radiation sickness.

Some of the Jedi were meeting resistance. Some of the Jedi were not. This was highly irregular.

 

[Ellayina L'lerim]

Director of ISB & SHADES, Torture & Interrogation Officer

Information

Objective: To protect the Temple
Location: Akar Tsis, Tython
Equipment: 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || Empyrean gland || OPBC-01m
Tags: Silas Westgard [direct] | Onrai | Kaleb Sunwalker | Valek Zuraxin | Braze | Jasper Kai'el | Raphael Gallustrade | Nathan Bloodscrawl | Matsu Ike | Caltin Vanagor | Thirdas Heavenshield | Valery Noble | Open

"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

I kept watching the actions to see what was happening. Eventually I managed to see a small group on one of the cameras footage. The pictures showed that eight had set off, but now there were only five. But they still managed to get into the church. This made me furious; I was beginning to think that our defences were a failure. Although, there I had to agree that a small team can move much easier than a whole regiment. Such a small team can easily take full advantage of the terrain and reduce the disadvantage; not to mention the fact that it's also easier to outsmart others. This is why I liked to work alone and not with others. I didn't have to deal with others on my own.

However, once they were inside, the indoor defences could deal with smaller troops more easily than large ones. So, it all had its pros and cons. I knew that even a small team like that could do a lot of damage to the defences or power supply. Saboteur actions could be very dangerous. I could only hope that they didn't have a cloaking device, because then they could easily be lost sight of. Although, if they were Jedi, the clothing made them look like that and not a simple GADF soldier, so they could also use the Force to disappear from sight. I trusted that a place like this would be fitted with protection to prevent this.

"Come on little bugs, walk into my web..." I whispered to myself while watching the footage.

Eventually the five of them split up into three groups and one of the Jedi-looking figures set off alone. My lips curled into an evil, predatory smile. I think I've got the opponent I wished I had not so long ago. Since my task was covered by both the computers and the tactical droids, my presence was not so much needed in this room. So, I quickly handed over the task to the systems to do it for me. Once I got the signal that they were doing their job, I headed out of the room in the direction the Jedi had gone.

I liked to test myself to see how good I was in hand-to-hand or melee combat against Force users. After all, I learned to fight with Ashlan Knights, or rather from them. But with real blades, not lightsabers. It never appealed to me; I think it's mostly a family trait, because very few people in the family used lightsabers, even among actual Force users. I pushed those thoughts away and concentrated instead on the task I had set for myself. As I walked, I reached out into the Force and used my mental powers to try to find the Jedi who was my would-be opponent.

~ Come, come little fly, you're already in my web, you won't escape anymore... ~ I whispered, almost purring; or so the man could hear my voice in his mind.

Meanwhile, MANIAC was showing me the way on my retina where to go, which made the whole thing much easier and simpler. When I started to get close, I slowed my pace and became more cautious. For all my fighting skills, I was still an agent and an assassin, so attacking from surprise was much more reasonable than a frontal assault. I activated my cloaking device to make sure the Jedi couldn't sense me or see me. In the meantime, I concentrated and sent him another message to annoy him even more.

~ Come, just come. Come to the middle of the net, you're almost there... come on, come on little bug! ~

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

For anyone else, a bunch of flash bangs being flung into their face would have been a knockout move.

But these were the Clone Rangers of The Ghost Army of Kytrand.

They had been trained to conduct sieges. Boarding actions. That and their Armor was rated against Sonics, sparing them the worst of that end, though they were forced to shut their eyes all the same to avoid being utterly blinded as one amongst their number threw down a Mobile Ray Shield Generator to block the cannon fire. It started rapidly wearing down under the withering blast, staying active only because Nathan deflected the deadly shots by rapidly spinning the Lance of Ession as the Clone acting as Designated Marksman managed to shoot one through the skull after he realized the Droids were heavily plated, figuring the actual sensors were the only place that had light protection, damaging its circuitry and causing it to go berzerk, but not before one of their own died from a bolt ripping into his chest, fired by a strange fleshy thing with a strange gun. The Berserk Droid fired not only on the flesh copy of Onrai, but their fellow droids also, forcing them to take some of their attention away from the breaching team to deal with the threat. That Clone had landed an extremely good shot, and the Clones all began firing back in short, controlled bursts.

(Cutaway of The Colonial Marines shooting Xenomorphs)

With sudden alarm, Nathan realized the size of the blocks being flung and quickly teleported the large chunks either flying into the Droids or back at Onrai and that other thing firing at him, though some shards of crystal managed to slice into his armor, and he was forced to use the Lance to catch the black lightning even as he was pelted brutally by base ball sized chunks of crystal, feeling a rib fracture, but forcing himself to focus through the pain as he teleported a few of the LXR-6 Concussion Grenades to the armor of the dark troopers, ripping them apart as Nathan advanced menacingly into the temple, most of the Dark Troopers that had tried to turn the breach into a kill box shattered, some of the larger chunks of debris getting dodged by the clones, and in response, one of the two Droid Marines took out the last Dark Trooper blocking their way by firing its E-60R Rocket Launcher, causing it to explode violently along with a hurled chunk of crystal.

"YEAH! Can I Roger or can I ROGER?!" The Modified B1 exclaimed, doing a short happy dance as the other clones split off from Nathan. They had a much more messed up goal that was meant to kill as many Sith in the temple as possible. A payload they had to deliver, created by the sorceress Magdalena Bloodscrawl .

Nathan was here more as a distraction, knowing the Sith would take the mystery man in the strange, horned black armor much more as a threat than they would regard a small squad of clones that had come in with them...

Nathan sensed Onrai drawing something terrible to help empower her. He sneered silently under his black helmet. The Anti-Force. This was a foul monstrosity indeed.

Fortunately, it wasn't like he wasn't trying to absolutely crush the Sith. But it had been a long time since encountering someone like Onrai. Someone who knew how to draw on the Perverse Anti-Force.

He drew on his own power, rusty at the technique, passed down from father to son in his family, spiritually attacking the Anti-Force with his own enhanced might. His body took on a white aura, stretching out its small white tendrils at Onrai's very essence, which hinted at just how powerful and dangerous Nathan's family had been in the Force, as well as how truly dangerous Nathan himself was at full strength. He had experience, clearly, at fighting Anti-Force Users, at disrupting their ability to draw on it. He seemed to know how to attack the Anti-Force itself and sent sharp spikes of the Force's will to tear at its spiritual essence. He was not strong enough to do heavy damage, but he wasn't trying to.

The point was to weaken her bodily, and psychologically, open her to attacks from others like Caltin Vanagor to let her realize, on her own that, no, even the Anti-Force could not protect her if the warriors of light wanted her dead today. Even The Anti-Force could be wounded, hurt.

As his white aura with its tendils stretched out, trying to damage her essence and connection to it, he sent an attack designed to mentally disrupt the very molecules of Onrai's soul, an attack designed to potentially ignore the resistance The Anti-Force granted her...

Meanwhile...

701, barely able to stand watched as the soldiers in his team set up the Clone Mortar Weapons and loading them with Plasma Shells. The Other teams had taken losses, but they were still advancing, such was the way of the Clone Offense Troopers, and they were setting up their own bombardment position on the Temple, backing the Alliance and Jedi Assault. He was forced to cover them occasionally, eventually spotting a breach being created in the temple itself. That must be the Boss. The Clone Rangers were under fire, and the Plague Destroyer in orbit above reported on the results of the ambush as the Rangers transmitted firing coordinates after splitting off from Nathan.

"FIRE! FIRE!" 701 yelled across comms.

The temple began to be shelled from seemingly everywhere, red beams from the Plague Destroyer's composite laser Point Defense Cannons lanced down from the skies above, slicing through dark empire soldiers and Dark Trooper Droids, other enemy troops getting exploded and burned by plasma shells, the mortar and orbital strikes carefully coordinated to avoid hitting Alliance, the allied Mandalorians of Jenn Kryze , or Jedi such as Valery Noble . Concentrated orbital point defense laser fire swept the grounds of the temple, the shelling from the advance Clone Offense Troopers utterly relentless as shells exploded on the blasphemy that was the Sith Temple, other advance squads moving in to engage individual units with a level of aggression that bordered on suicidal. Sith Marauders were now being regularly Sixty-Sixed (I.E. Surrounded from all sides and shot repeatedly, with the Clones being utterly flabbergasted at the undisputed fact that the Temura Morrison Method worked so insanely well).

Something descended from on high, firing it's point defense cannons as it descended through the atmosphere, parting the clouds as the humidity of its engines roared down, not here to fire on the temple and risk hitting Allied Forces, but to deposit the second wave of Nathan's attack, which came as a blitz.

The Heavy Cruiser, stripped of all identifying covers and marks, descended into a barren portion of the battlefield, it's bay doors opening for the drop ship style invasion of Clone Siege Troopers in their centipede like Impeding Assault Tanks that crashed into the ground and rapidly burrowed beneath the earth on a direct course for the temple, while scores of B2 Super Rocket Troopers flew out to escort the Falchion Tanks now speeding through the battle, firing their long range ion beam cannons directly at both the temple itself and various enemy ground forces. Their constant impacts on the temple proper, beams and mortar shells and orbital strikes raining down on concentrations of dark empire forces the tanks meeting fierce resistance that started to collapse from the tank onslaught above and below, the Falchion beams sweeping through fortified positions, automatic blasters constantly firing the rocket fire from the droids above helping to provide much needed relief to certain alliance groups bogged down by the stubborn defense, injured Sith Lords brutally slain as they were crushed by the tanks going over their bodies.

"INTENSIFY FORWARD FIREPOWER!" 701 shouted as squads of Siege Troopers covered the advance, mercilessly executing any Sith that fired at them with absurdly long barrages of Z-6 Cannon Fire.

The jungle caught fire in many sections as the Clone Army began to draw more desperate barrages on itself, TIE/SRRET's streaking overhead to pick up and evacuate heavily injured Alliance and Clone troops before rocketing off back into the sky, Orbital Point Defense Lasers targeting Sith Masters hurling lightning and curses at troops and turning them into a greasy black stain on the dirt. Dark Troopers that stood their ground got flattened, though as they got closer, some tanks began to be lost, either from bombing runs or lucky hits.

But the Clone Army advanced relentlessly no matter how severe the counter response got, the Centipede Tanks bursting up from below, creating sinkholes that collapsed whole enemy positions allowing survivors in the pits created to be immediately shelled by Plasma Mortar rounds.

"IT AIN'T MEEEEEEEEE....IT AIN'T MEEEEEEEEEE..." The Siege Troopers sang loudly as they advanced, attempting to inflict a psychological attack on organic troops.

"I AIN'T NO SENATOR'S SOOOOOONNNNN..."


Kaleb Sunwalker

Azurine Varek

Raphael Gallustrade

Tycho Arak

Thirdas Heavenshield

Matsu Ike

Braze

Khamul Kryze

Valek Zuraxin

Silas Westgard

 

[Pollux]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Assaulting Akar Tsis
| Objective | Take the fight to the dar'manda
| Focus | Khamul Kryze

It is said that no conflict is more bitter than one thought amongst one's family. A truth exemplified this day as Kryze met Kryze in battle at last; a devastating battle fought between those among the aliit who rallied to the Light... and those who embraced the Dark. An inevitable conflict prophesized by Herrel Eldar , honored Chaaj of the Mandalorian Enclave, during his visit on Onderon. ​

​

As befit the warlike horde, the Death's Hand did not meet the cavalry charge with interlocking shields and spears as their counterpart serving under The Redeemer might have, choosing instead to meet it head on with a counter-charge of their own; as the two sides drew nearer, blaster bolts and missiles alike were fired by the Mandalorians soaring through the air on their jetpacks and those dismounted Hastati following behind the Vanguard. The courageous riders couched their lances, holding on tight to the reins...​

​

And when both sides finally met in melee, the carnage began in earnest.​

​

Pollux's lance slammed through the skull of an enemy warrior; it pierced through yet another before he was forced to wrench it free from their bodies. More than one warrior of the Death's Hand was crushed under the hooves of noble horses and mighty beasts of Onderon alike; before long, however, the momentum of the charge slowed, and the vanguard found itself mired among their foes. ​

​

"Swords!" called the Alor'ad, prompting the riders to exchange lances for beskads, slashing away at the foes now surrounding them. Some lost their mounts to the onslaught; others were dragged down from their horses, unceremoniously finished off with blaster or steel. Just as it seemed that the vanguard would be wiped out, the formation of Hastati reached the stranded cavalry, their energy shields interlocking in a tight formation. To fully secure the retreat of the cavalry, however, they would need more.​

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"Strike from the skies, Jare'vode!"​

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Forth leapt the repentant ones, their beskar as black as the night - screaming out in defiance as they descended from the skies, covering the retreat of the vanguard with their suicidal charge. They were those who had failed the Alor one time too many, yet chose not to take the path of exile; only in death could their sins know retribution. And die they did, outnumbered and overwhelmed as they were, though not before claiming a bloody tally that would see their names sung by House Kryze's storytellers.​

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No matter. Their duty was done; their lives spent to secure the combat effectiveness of the fighting force. In this, Pollux was every bit as ruthless as his Alor. There was no time to weep for the fallen when smoke and blood filled the air.​

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His horse was shot out from under him as he doubled back to rejoin the lines, leaving him down in the mud, the wind knocked from his lungs. Already his warriors were beginning to break ranks to advance towards him; pushing on through the pain, he mustered the will to stand back to his feet, lifting his shield and drawing his sword.​

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"Khamul!" bellowed the duelist into the oncoming horde. "Face me in combat, false Mand'alor!"​

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| Friendly | @ GA / NJO
| Hostile | @ Dark Empire​