BLACKOUT (Galactic Alliance Invasion of the One Sith held Coruscant.)

[Gabriel Sionoma]

LOCATION: SECRET DROP CHUTE
OBJECTIVE: ASCENDING FROM CORUSCANT UNDERCITY INTO VALLEY OF LORDS FOUNDATIONS

STRIKE TEAM (Force signatures masked): [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] | [member="Lilin Imperieuse"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Kira Vaal"] | [member="Meeristali Peradun"]| [member="Alen Na'Varro"]
ASCENDING IN THE GENERAL DIRECTION OF: [member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Darth Erebos"] | [member="Marcello Matteo"] | [member="Sera Inkari"]

Climbing the vertical distance wasn't such a problem. He recalled doing it in a much hastier fashion with Jacen, climbing through the tunnels beneath Sullust. And there, it was as hot as he could take. Here, it was stagnate and windless, but at least the heat wasn't unbearable. Not yet anyway. Happy thoughts for small miracles it seemed, he greeted the duracrete rubble and cavity with a bit more pep in his step than the others. Hearing Kira talk about the feeling of impending doom, he shook his head in agreement with Alen. No good in gestures resembling good byes, only weighed thoughts down.

And of course Jacen, with his attempts to lighten the mood. Reaching up, Gabe pulled himself up and headbutted Dave. Rubbing his forehead, he swatted the droid away with a 'shooing' motion. "You're about as bad as Dick, I swear!" Peas in a pod, those two with be, with how easily they could get on his nerves. It was fine though, the slight distraction was helpful in times like these, as he propped himself up. Slowly but surely, he was getting mentally prepared to dive deep into the recesses of the One Sith's home. A home coming of sorts, he had dreaded it since first learning of the plan. Memories of escaping Selvaris, despite how long ago it occurred, were still fresh in his mind.

Scratching his forehead, he nodded to the sentiment about seers. "It wouldn't surprise me if there were warriors waiting for us. Remnants of a time quickly passing by, when the alcoves were stocked to the brim with acolytes, giddy to serve their Emperor." Though if the intelligence was true, those acolytes would now wonder aimless and godless. "But they will be on the defensive, a thing they have not known for a long time. And since they are cowards, we will have the upper hand." He looked towards Kira and smiled, reassuringly. "Besides, if push comes to shove, will just let Alen take the brunt of the fight."

Piggybacking on Jacen's jab. Classic.

 

[Jake Daniels]

Location: Valley of Lords
Specific Notations:

• Watching Lord Erebos have his fun.
• Drinking Tea

‘The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.’​

That was one of the first lesson his Lady Silencia had ever taught the Knight. If there was a way to win without ever drawing a blade, then one must take it. That showed mastery of not just war itself but a vast level of intellect the enemy failed to display. It’s how his Lady Silencia had managed to survive her many enemies in her life. It’s how Darth Gravis did the same. That lesson had been used when Jake out whetted, out smarted, and out thought the entirety of the Jedi Order from his time. A power base of Jedi Masters who manipulated entire worlds into believing that every war they fought was meant to bring peace to the galaxy. It was a paradoxical line of thought that had anyone actually bothered to step back and think about would have undermined every single aspect of Jedi philosophy they claimed to follow. Had the Jedi centuries into the future learned from their past warmongering and power hungry missteps?

Based on the events of today; they did not.

Gravis very rarely ventured from his personal home; the Shamalain Manor on Honoghr. Only when he found hints of possession that once belonged to his Lady Reticea did the Knight dare leave off world. When a specific text was hinted at being in a Sith Archive near the Valley of the Lords, Darth Gravis had arrived to investigate. Sure enough; the man found a small book on lightside alchemy that had been gifted to his wife shortly before the plague hit. Big words and thick books were not something one would picture a man like Darth Gravis possessing. Yet when it came to what had belonged to his family and what would be in their possession again, the Knight didn’t care. He’d steal from the very people he aligned with. After all, what was his was his. The Book would find its way back to his Lady Reticea’s study.

Then the invasion happened.

While the Sith and their military begun their counter offensives, defensive preparations and various other tasks beholden to their required duties, the Knight calmly left the Archive near the Valley of the Lords. Darth Gravis had planned to find a quiet spot to look through the book in more detail, to reminisce about a family he long lost and a Master he so desired to tutor him again while drinking Honoghrian Tea created for him by the Noghri Village Elders near the Manor. His wants and desires were squashed with this assault. As he walked about the Valley of the Lords, the man spotted [member="Darth Erebos"] manhandling any and all that neared him.

Darth Erebos had proven a very valuable learning tool for Darth Gravis. Besides the fact the Lord had helped the Knight Master Shii-Cho, he had, without knowing, reinforced another lesson his Lady Silencia had taught her eager young Apprentice.

​

‘Never make assumptions about someone based on past experience with someone else.’​

Darth Gravis wasn’t liked. Most, if not everyone, that had encountered him hated him. That was especially true of the Sith Lords of his time. Four Centuries earlier Gravis had accomplished feats no Sith had. He was the only Sith to literally shatter the Jedi Order from within, causing a schism that took a decade to repair, the youngest to be granted a Darth title, the youngest to be given command of a military contingent, and the youngest to be granted the honor of High Security of the Dark Council. Yes; Darth Gravis, a Knight, was the protector to the Sith Empire’s Dark Council. That meant many people were jealous of his accomplishments; many more hating him for it. Darth Erebos wasn’t like the Sith the Knight had known. If you gave Darth Erebos respect, he showed the same. A remarkable man in his own right and one of the few, beside [member="Darth Megnentis"], to have earned the Knights respect.

Coming to a seat from a small overhang looking over the battlefield created by the Lord, the Knight was dressed in the robes designed by his Lady Silencia. The leathers and cloth of black, white, and red were outclassed by the golden symbol of the Shamalain Family Crest that was brightly visible on his left shoulder. A silver chain was wrapped around his neck with his wedding band prominently visible. Pulling off his messenger bag, the Knight pushed aside the text of his Lady Reticea’s, brushed past two standard lightsabers; one constructed after his Marriage, the second being the personal lightsaber of his Lady Silencia, and gently moved a framed photo of his family to pull out a thermos.

Now cool to the touch, the Knight pulled off the plastic cap that doubled as a cup. Sitting cross legged, his icy blue eyes staring down as Darth Erebos made a mockery of Alliance attackers, the Knight took a gentle sip of the fluid. Incredibly bitter upon first taste, the Noghri didn’t make this for its enjoyment. They made it to try and calm the mind of an otherwise unstable man whose emotions constantly got the better of him. With the war raging before him, Darth Gravis’ mind remembered the lesson once more about assumptions.

Since waking just months ago, after centuries of sleep, the Knight had not personally met a Jedi of this time period. The most critical mistake he could make, and one his Master would have been ashamed of, would have been if the Knight leaped into a battle with an enemy without a true understanding of who they were. Yes, this assault on Coruscant was reminiscent of past failed invasions by Jedi, but were they really the war mongering walking monkeys that Darth Gravis was beginning to believe they were?

It was time to find out.​

 

[Asher]

Location: Lower Levels - Coruscant
Allies: [member="Allyson Locke"], Asmus Janes
Enemies: [member="Kelon Amadis"]

A sigh of relief parted the man’s lips, though it quickly turned into curious brow perk at the sight of Allyson wrenching herself out of his grip and going back to her ship. “Uh, yeah, good to see you too.” He said rather sarcastically as his teammate rushed off to collect something he must have missed. He followed suit, thinking it was important. Expectations were shattered at the sight of Allyson merely collecting the core of her droid. He didn’t let such emotion show, but it was there.

“No worries.” He said and gave the droid’s corpse a lookover before starting to back away from the crashed shuttle. A finger raised towards a burning pile in the near distance. “That’s my ship. I thought I’d have time to come get you, buuuut… Nope.”

“So it looks like we’re gonna have to do this the hard-” He was never able to finish his sentence before a loudspeaker boomed above them speaking of help being on the way. “Okay, yeah, no. Something’s telling me that ain’t for us, we need to move.”

The man set off in a jog towards the nearest shop. What he found was a small one. It reeked of urine, alcohol and dust. The three trademark signs of someone having ended up in the wrong part of town. Without hesitation he began to strip down. Life support was discarded, orange jumpsuit unzipped as he proceeded to grab whatever was at hand to wear. He kept the white tank top he had been wearing, threw the cheap jacket around his shoulders before grabbing a pair of pants with boots.

“Pick anything inconspicuous and get out.” The man subtly discarded a credit chit on the cashier’s counter. The man looked offended at first until he noticed the sum. “Keep the change.” The man grinned before thrusting his way into the clothes he had acquired. Yes, in the wide open space of the emptied shop.

“Only a matter of time before security gets here. We need to leave as soon as possible. Orange would have made us stand out like a gun in a knife fight.” He said while ironically enough fastening his holster around his waist.

“You good to go?” There wasn’t enough time to be picky. Owen made for the nearby window and began peeking outside. “They’ll be here any moment now.”

TL;DR - Owen led Allyson into a clothes store to acquire something else to wear. Jumpsuits are a good way to attract attention.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Location: Approaching alley of the Dark Lords
Objective: Land safely.
Allies: [member="Marcello Matteo"] | [member="Ryan Korr"]
Unknown support: ara D'Lessio Merrillhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/7375-mara-dlessio-merrill/ Lilin Imperieuse Jacen Voidstalker Gabriel Sionoma Julius Sedaire Kira Vaal Meeristali Peradun Alen Na'Varro


The transport quivered as the shields absorbed yet another incoming blast. From the outside, the red of the plasma skittered over the shell of the ship- giving it a temporary, menacing red glow. The skies were chaos. The emotions split between excitement, vengeance and rallying war tones. There was fear too, a lot of fear. Amidst the sea of feelings, there was always one that was slightly more elevated - a single glow. There was adrenaline linked to that individual.

Despite the hyper awareness of all that was going on around outside the shuttle, the Kiffar queen sat in meditative silence. Since that method of focus had been her ally for several years now, she’d grown more fond of its tranquil offerings than when she’d been a small fry. Deep, rhythmic breaths steadied the rise and fall of her chest and gaze remained transfixed on the skyline that had been so familiar for so many years. The last time she had been here, the Jedi Temple that had stood crumbled to the ground. It was likely, that after much blood today, it would be rebuilt.

The calmness she exuded was necessary for the gaggle of warriors that accompanied their planet’s heir. She’d been back with them for two years now, proving herself as dedicated to their causes after being dedicated to the Jedi for her lifetime. They were muscular brutes, clad in typical Guardian black and gold, clinging to the straps that dangled from the ceiling to keep themselves standing. The red light that highlighted their features indicated they were not good for departure yet.

A vibration cued the blonde to look down at her bracer, an incoming message from R9 that indicated the rather reckless and highly ill advisable maneuver had been completed. She looked up and to the pilot as the ship perused low and as far away from the Sith’s ace pilots and incoming barrage as they were able. Certainly wasn’t easy.

Casting a backward glance over her shoulder, Kiskla tightened the arm that was lifted and holding onto the above strap to keep herself upright as another shot was absorbed. Warning signs started to light up the HUD that she could see. Stoic to the potential calamity, she finally spoke - “We’re ready for landing - the coordinates are true.”

It had been a long time since her involvement in a quarrel like this. But if the Galactic Alliance was going to take back a planet that had been the crucible of the One Sith’s war - she’d support. Especially if Marcello was going to come in all reckless and whatnot. The last time they’d fought together here, he’d pretty much saved her life from a massive, singing Monster. Technically, she owed him one - and how could she deny such a loud, resounding battle cry. As calm as her exterior may have showcased, beneath her blood jittered excitedly. It had been some time since she’d needed to activate her dual blades. The Jedi had done fine for themselves, as they had been set up to do.

[Preparing to drop in four.] The captain’s voice crackled over the speakers, and Kiskla surmised that one of the hits had damaged their radio systems. Pearlescent irises drifted from the speakers back to the viewport. The Valley was cluttered with people, and as an old habit, her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. Once more right into the eye of the beast, hm?

The shuttle zigged and zagged as much as it could. It wasn’t anything particularly special, Kiffex was not known for its shipyards, but it did the trick. Scissoring above the ground to avoid direct blasts, smoke and debris splattered against the crystallized glass view; obstructing vision and causing the pilots to rely more heavily on the radar.

The belly of the ship met the ground, skidding and tearing up pavement due to their approaching velocity. Kiskla braced herself, bending her knees for most of the impact and raising her other hand above her head for both to support her upright position. The crash webbing helped support the Guardians, to prevent a string of bodies tumbling about the ship’s hull.

The light turned orange.

The sound of heavy, weighted metal on the cement was almost deafening and the Jedi Master cringed, the ship tearing forward. A large pillar presented itself, and losing the ability to navigate with ease, as they had done in space, the pilot had no choice but to collide. The pillar toppled, quivering and shaking, a large chunk of it falling and raining down on the ship with loud crunches as it dropped anvils on the ship’s ceiling. Boulder-sized stones cracked through the viewport and into the laps of the pilot, crushing him and his companion, and crumpling the nose of the shuttle.

Kiskla took a step back.

The momentum kept them sliding though, but the weight on top from the stone that the ship was supporting assisted in the stop. The ceiling creaked, and the light turned green.

The door didn’t open. Crushed totally, the Guardians and their queen were stuck in a crumpled transport, with a swarm of opposition ready to pounce.

Hands were not idle. A single palm dropped from the clinging grip she had overhead and pointed toward the butterfly door which was supposed to be opening for them. With a telekinetic surge, the metal strained, pulling from its hinges and bursting outward…clattering and skittering noisily a distance away.

“Here we go, boys and girls. You find one you want to keep, and you might be able to take it home to the prisons.”

 

[Yula Perl]

CORUSCANT
Exact Location Unknown
Allies: [member="Alesia Rivas"]
Enemies: N/A

“I’m not going to heal you if you do something stupid.” He grumbled the words as he watched Alesia tear down the hideous One Sith banner. His eyes tracked to the saber hilt clipped to her waist, lingering there for a few moments. He had yet to even receive a training saber, a testament to just how new he was to the Jedi lifestyle. Though he knew that eventually he’d have to take up the blade as all Jedi, the majority of his minimal training had been in basic Force powers. He could perform a novice push and pull, and could accelerate the healing of minor wounds—but beyond that, he was a blank canvas.

Luckily for them, Alesia would take care of any potential enemies…allegedly. He hadn’t actually seen his fellow Padawan fight, but had to place his trust in her. And if she got hurt, she could expect a few unkind words from him as he treated her. Lukas was no monster, but he was a jerk.

“I might.” He shrugged the bag off of his shoulder, kneeling down to unzip it. “Can’t you light it on fire with your saber?” Rummaging around through the pack, he was still a little unsure on how the ancient weapon worked. Weren’t there some Jedi who could produce flames? Or were those witches? The thought made his brows crease in frustration. The man went to medical school, not the Jedi Academy damnit!

Retrieving a small cigarra lighter, Lukas knelt near the red and black fabric and held the flame against the edges. After a few seconds of being exposed, the flames started to multiply and eat away at the banner. Zipping his pack back up, he stood to his full height and glanced over to Alesia. “Don’t smoke, by the way. It’s disgusting and it will kill you.” He pointed to the clouds of acrid smoke that rose above the ever-growing flames.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Location: Temple of the Sith, deep chambers.
Objective: Defend.
Allies: [member="Darth Pyrrhus"].
Enemies: @Ryan [SIZE=9pt]Korr[/SIZE].

Gear:

Spoiler

Armour.
Rudis.
Tsaisibola & Nagajj
2x curved hilt lightsabres.
Standard issue vibrodagger.

Pride; it had always been one of the driving forces in the Queen of Shadows. She never claimed her methods or goals to be honourable or fair, such concepts were a waste of time in her mind. But this concept of insult to the self, that was something she had never been able to shed. Rather it had been reinforced with every step on the ladder in her ascent among the Sith. Her pride – Petty, petty pride – stirred her to a cold fury that lingered in her belly for hours, months, years, lifetimes.

The Galactic Alliance had slighted her so many times and it was time to let the flames burn hot.

It was very easy for Darth Ophidia to fan the flames of the dark side with the all-encompassing hatred she held for their idols and their banner. She would watch it all burn, the smoke blotting out the light once and for all; this she swore to the dark patron.

After sliding the [SIZE=9pt]red-scribed blade of her Rudis – A relic of the old regime – into its sheath, the Pale Assassin reached out and touched the scratched and dented helmet on the armour rack in her office. Her gloved hand traced the engraved pattern on the cheeks and the faded, blue paint marking the front. It had protected her so many times; could she remember every conquest she had witnessed through those lenses? A smile broke her stern expression as she lifted it up and placed the [/SIZE]beskar over her head. Around her, two fellow assassins were tightening the fittings of her armour, perfecting the balance between mobility and protection.

“Defend our premises no matter the cost. If it cannot be saved, destroy it. Leave nothing for the hounds to scavenge. This is a prime council order, let nothing stop you. You are Sith Assassins, ours are the shadows. Use them.”

The two assassins – Elites the both of them – nodded, a look of grave understanding on their faces. The severity of the situation was clear to them. This attack was too close to home, and they had already witnessed defeat on Dulvoyinn. They could [SIZE=9pt]not; would not lose their capitol[/SIZE]. In turn, the two left the room and spread the orders to the rest of the order.

Darth Ophidia remained, securely attaching her lightsabre hilts to her armour and making sure they did not move needlessly. Pulling the leather-lined hood up, she clipped the magnet to the top of her helm and beheld the visage for what could quite possibly be the last time.

It is time.

Stepping out, she vanished in the shadows, melting into the background of the Force. Her steps were determined, yet silent. She knew where she was going; the Temple of the Sith. Her instincts told her that was where she needed to be.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=siwpn14IE7E[/media]

Enemies: One Sith | [member="Ecarht Arak"]
Allies: Green Squadron (4) NPC’s | The Galactic Alliance
Objective: Pew pew pew! (Don’t get cocky).



A grin cracked beneath her helmet. For some reason, it was as though she could feel the panic that emanated from the TIE group before her. They scattered and spread, surprised by the quick turnaround the Rogues and supporting green squadron could provide and blast out.

The move from the opposition was good. Lose wasn’t prepared for it, and slammed her body against the seat in frustration, jostling against her strap with clenched teeth and a cuss on her breath. "Son of a murglak!"

[Don’t get cocky, keep it tight.] Frank advised from the backseat, which only boiled her blood in irritation. He was right though, she’d come in too clean too quickly, that much clarity so soon in the engagement was basically making her standard grey-painted T-70 a silver platter delivery. The TIE gave a come hither swish on Loske’s radar, and her naked eyes narrowed; not needing the sensors to lock and engage. A ripple started from her pinky to her index as she strummed the yoke and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. A soundtrack of intensity played softly in the lower, the glimmik sounds giving a tap to her toes. The synth was strong with this one.

“Wish you were bellowing, Bard.” Loske spoke absently and softly into her comm, if he heard, great. If not, she was counting him as one of the downed on the ground.

The temptress before her was too much to resist, and she seemed to be the captain. Like a magnet, her friends followed the TIE like an arrowhead, though they seemed to keep their distance for her fancy moves. Loske was now beside the swooping fighter, adjusting the severity of the propulsors and putting more emphasis to her reverse thrusters; keeping her from overshooting and ending up as cross hair prey. With her head like a bobble, she looked over her shoulder to see if she could peer in the cockpit of her assailant right now. The glass was dark, frustratingly so, but she still have a two fingered salute. A nice little wave before the little blonde pilot broke that bad guy’s skies.

The nose of her X-Wing pointed upward slightly, tilting for ascension while she cued her underbelly blaster canon to rotate to her left, pointing toward the top fin of the KI-ES-MKl. A snappy ship, and Loske was mildly envious as the ray of green burst from the cannon.

 

[Darth Abyss]

The moment the tanks started the bombardment of the skyscrapers, Abyss could feel the incoming danger. He didn't even had the time to warn his soldiers before the first shoot hits the tower a few levels above them. In a fluid motion he rises from his meditation, walking to the hole that was planned to be the exit point for him and his aman. He turns around about to give commands to his troop, when another shoot hits the level right below them, collapsing the floor underneath them. Guided by the force he manages to jump out of the hole in the wall seconds before falling trough the floor.

He could see the ground coming closer way faster than he intended to when he choose the position. Theonly thing that could save him would be the force, but between him and the ground only a few meters were left. With a sudden burst of darkness in from of a telekinetic blast the young sith slightly softens his inevitable impact. The second he hit the ground Abyss could feel thag at least one of his rips was broken. Pain suddenly creeps trough his body, but instead of giving in to it he focuses on it forming it into a flame of hate burning away nausea and confusion he gained by hitting his head on the ground. He looks around him, just to see the meters high pile of burned durasteel and furniture. After a moment of consideration he moves towards the pile, using his lightsaber to generate a way into the core of the pile by cutting into it. When he felt that he was out of sight he returns to his meditation. The fact that they could find his location so fast suggest that a force user most likely a jedi had sensed him. So it would be best to make him or her believe that his that the attack was successful. Tapping into the dark side the sith starts to slowly lets his own presence fade, until only a glimpse of him was left to sense in the force.

[member="Ugohr Poof"] [member="Lisette Kuhn"] [member="Clovis Torcularis"]

 

[Kira Vaal]

The Hidden Path

Humour. So many used it times of stress, Kira understood why. Normally she would be the one cracking the jokes but something was bugging her, pulling at the back of her mind so much that even pushing a fake smile across her face was a struggle.
She put it down to the Nexus above them.

All these people around her, they were all highly trained Jedi, each having been part of a life in the study of the Force.
Kira? She had been a Jedi for what, three months? Yes she’d always had the ability but formal training, Newka had given her basics she supposed, teaching her what he could when he could. Even the weapon at her hip was something odd, she had ignited it once, when she had been presented it by Newka after having her heritage explained but beyond that the idea of actually using it was a difficult thought for her.

“I hope so, I wouldn’t know what to do with my life without these dangerous, crazy escapades.” She gave the old man a wink, he didn’t know it but she knew more about him then she let on. She’d had one two many drinks with a certain Kiffar smuggler with many stories about historical things and Alen was indeed a historical thing. “Besides at least I know that what ever will happen up there Alen has our backs.”

The group continued onwards through the silence, the sound of their breathing and the shuffling of bodies against rock. It was claustrophobic work, pressing on the mind and senses. It reminded Kira of the old tombs on the southern rim, the really old ones. Occasionally the air would give way to a rumble and dust would fall freely around them, a result of the battle above them.

The path kept going, soon however it would end and the true test would begin.

STRIKE TEAM (Force signatures masked): [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] | [member="Lilin Imperieuse"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Meeristali Peradun"] | [member="Alen Na'Varro"] | [member="Gabriel Sionoma"]
ASCENDING IN THE GENERAL DIRECTION OF: [member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Darth Erebos"] | [member="Marcello Matteo"] | [member="Sera Inkari"]

 

[Kaili Talith]

Allies: [member="Micah Talith"] and [member="Vexen"]
Enemies: [member="Lyle Baelor"]
Location: With Micah and Vexen
Objective: TBA.
Gear:

Spoiler

Kaili’s Armor + Accessories
Bracers of Salee
Cloak of Aatrox
Serenity of Inari
Covenant Ring
Bodo Baas Gunbelt
Bobby Pins

Song: Empire

“Should.” Kaili interjected with a sigh as her brother spoke. “I’m nervous.” She added at his final word. “I feel like I am only making things worse than they will be in my mind.”

It was funny how the thought of injuring a soldier brought out the guilt in her while the thought of brutally incapacitating a pirate or a smuggler did not. In truth it felt two-faced of her and to some the difference was just about the same. Maybe it was because at the end of the day it was harder to associate a criminal to family as it was with a soldier, or maybe it was the simple fact that in some regards two of her own siblings could be written off as such; soldiers.

“We are doing what’s right here.” She didn’t sound entirely convinced. “I-”

The girl was interrupted, her eyes opening wide in a brief moment of panic. Hands traced along her chest as she strapped herself in waiting for what was to happen next. The metals clicked together, she pulled the cord to tighten it as necessary. Deep breaths through her mouth, quick exhales through her nose. Focus was key here, she was calm. The ring had flared to life and ever since then she had been just fine. Sure, without it the trip would have been terrifying for her, but as they weaved through the cityscape she found herself unaffected by it. Not entirely, but it was hardly noticeable. The sharp yet muted turns that would have caused her stomach to knot up was not there and time Vexen turned around to check up on her and Micah all she could afford the defel was a smile.

Unamused, but calm. It quickly faded, turned stale. “We should go."

 

[Pravus Zambrano]

Coruscant Underworld
Unmarked Address

"My friend...please come in. Come in!" He spoke with a smile, doing his utmost to hide the wolfish intensity. He waved the visitor forward, shutting the door behind him.
"Thank God, for you. Things are getting truly out of hand out there."
"God. Yes...quite." He held up a hand, caught in thought and self-aggrandizement. Shooing away the thought quite physically, he turned and grabbed a piece of bread. "Please, sit down. Tell me about it." Placing a hand on the mans shoulder, he offered the bread and guided him to the closest seat.
"Oh-okay." He stammered, taking the bread and biting a large chunk from the husk. Pravus smiled as the man sat down, slowly consuming the offering. "Word is that the Galactic Alliance is attacking."
"Yes, yes go on."
"That's all I truly know. The police officers have taken to brutality enforcing the curfew. They keep talking about the Dave protocol. We never thought it would ever be used."
"Dave protocol?"
"Yes." He took another bite, slouching in the chair. "A terrorist attack, many years ago. A man was killed, name was Dave. Don't even know his full name." He offered a smile as he continued, sheepishly. "Anyway, they since enacted a law that allows law enforcement to physically uphold curfew. Even to the point of killing, for the sake of herding."
"Innnnnteresting. How utterly despicable." Loray looked up towards the ceiling, a smile crawling across his awkward face. "I love it!"
"Yes, it's horrifying...wait...whaaaaaat?" The man slouched a bit more, facing taking on a dumbfounded expression. Speech began to slur and breathing slowed.
"Oh goodness me, seems the sedative is working a bit faster than I thought it would."
"The...the whaaaaaaaaat?"
"Yes, it's rather peculiar. Purchased from a local corporation, the Coruscant Funeral and Flower company. You see..." He pointed to the paltry offering of what was left in the mans hand. "The drug binds best to human bone, so I used that for the meal of the bread." He made a fist and air punched. "Really helps add a bit of a kick! And you chowed right down." He punched the mans shoulder lightly. "Good for you!"

The man had a look of awe and terror upon his face, which seemed to upset Pravus. Not towards the will to do harm but more because the drug was reacting far faster than he anticipated. Leaning down, he pulled the mans arm over his shoulder and lifted him up. Getting as close to prancing as he possibly could, Pravus moved down the interior steps to find the inner chasm. Taking a left turn, he walked with an unusual gait, as if favoring his left side. Torch lights flickered in the damp and dark interior, casting obscene horrors and shadows against the wall. "Pay no mind to that, it's just the drugs...or is it?" He looked over, giggling, as the man hung limp on his shoulder. Still conscious and perceptive.

Entering a final room, one larger than the others, Pravus was hit with the hard stench of mildew. The drip drop of water echoed through the chamber and rusted sconces haphazardly riddled the wall, where the bricks hadn't fallen through to reveal empty wall space. Approaching a chair, Pravus propped the man down and looked down the row. More chairs, torn red pleather and black stained steel. Three visitors already, four now with the addition of his new friend.

Clickitty clank, the arm braces and foot braces locked into place, securing the prisoner visitor. Pravus clapped his hands together as he sat down next to the seat, the man nearly unconscious, and pulled a feather from his shoulder ware. Pointed at the edge, he stabbed the man lightly on the palm of his hand and began inscribing patterns along the arm.

"Whaaaaaat...whaaaaaatt arrrrreee the loooooocks fooooorr?"
"My my..." Pravus smiled. "You can still talk!" He pressed against the bracers and leaned forward. "These things are to keep you in place. We're entering hyperdrive soon and I don't want you getting hurt."
"R-r-really?"
"No...don't be silly." Pravus laughed and finished his inscription, pulling out the book from his coat. Comparing them closely, he nodded and made a few edits. "Yes, yes. Omph, that's perfect." Slapping the book closed, he concealed it once more and pushed the feather back into his shoulder pauldron. "Now you get some sleep, you have a very big day." Petting the man on the forehead, the alchemist watched as he drifted to sleep. A bell rang and Pravus recoiled, looking towards the hallway. Running as fast he desired to, through the hallway and back up the stairs, he wiped his forehead and approached the front door. Swinging it open, he greeted the young woman and smiled.

"My friend...come in. Please come in! Let me get you something to eat."

 

[Aela Talith]

Senate District
Senate Building
[member="Adder"] | [member="Kyber Salurra"]

The battle was hectic now.

The Senate Building hadn't been in use for some time now, the Sith had abandoned it upon their taking of Coruscant, and although it had at times been used for it's administrative offices, the truth was the structure simply hadn't seen a full range of use for nearly a decade now. That made it an easy target, but it's location within the heart of the Senate District also made it an important one. She rushed forward, he boots tromping onto the duracrete and her lightsabers flicking forward to slice through the edge of a troopers rifle.

The man looked at her in shock for a moment, then her palm shot forward. A loud scream erupted form him as he was tossed back against the wall, slamming against the molded duracrete and knocking him unconscious. Aela rose to her full height, looking back behind herself to see members of the 5th Legion quickly storming forward towards the building. She smiled, then joined them.

Within a matter of moments she stood before the main door, the great gates locked to their passage. It took only a single lightsaber swipe down their middle to cut through the locks, a force push to press them open and instantly open the way for her legion. Two dozen Legionnaires rushed passed her, instantly forming into tight knit squads that fired their blasters at enemies dug into the great hall beyond. She frowned for a second, looking for Adder. "Get inside!"

She called to her men.

"Secure the hall, then spread out!" Her voice rung out over the sound of blaster fire. "Room by room."

That was the only way they'd secure the building, the only way to be sure.

 

[Darth Centax]

Mission: Balls to the wall!
Location: Sith Palace Outer Wall
PC Enemies: [member="Mia Monroe"]
NPC Allies - Background Unless Engaged.

Spoiler

Rough Total: 15400/19000 | Civilian Insurgency: 3500/3500
6,500 / 8,000 - 769th Coruscants Own, Skirmishing Stormtroopers
Local Individuals
3,500/ 4,000 - 770th Loyal Sons and Daughters, Heavy Infantry Stormtroopers
Nyx and Mythos Clones
1,600 / 2,000 - 771st Faceless First, Scouts and Recon Stormtroopers
James Justice Clones
3,800 / 5,000 - Sithwatch Militia | Growing Number of Civilians
26/30 AT-AW | 80/90 Blastail–MC1 – 772nd Durasteel Dogs (DuraDogs).
Rohlan Verd Clones
Memorial Wall Defenses - Condition: Scratched | Blastshield Down

​

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DKz6esIgqeM​

How well do you know your steps!​

Sounds of explosions and building collapse as a skyscraper finally gave way to the distant battle behind them. Falling metal coming down as you might expect with thunder, and terrible loss of life. The same thunder Mia shot around the corner with. Experience shown in how she handled it, and her explosions here all too real as reminder.

Wall blown out forward and to his side, hand up to shield his face, stepping back. Shrapnel embedded itself along his left arm and ripped into his rifle, flung from his grip. Her hand bolter shots smashing the wall next to him next, one after the other. Practiced art of movement pushed the youthful Knight off the wall, in a sideways somersault to avoid getting impaled or torn to pieces. More shrapnel finding place along his left side as it was, not yet piercing flesh.

On landing, saber ignited flying into his right hand. Short, sharp bolt of electricity, coming from his left gauntlet, fired toward her left knee area. Precision. Rage made for an audible battlecry, built anger unleashing itself. Ataru sent his body rotating around aiming for a lethal decapitation shot, legs vaulting to push up to his chest and send the Sith Knight spinning toward her.

Not knowing what she had waiting for him… and all the retribution she sort to visit herself. Who had more in them? Who wanted this more?

Personal Gear:
X1 Officer Armor | MRS-1 Modular Assault Rifle (Wrecked Dropped) | 4x Mixed Grenades | Lightsaber (Right Hand) | Personal Ray Shield (Hip)| Crushgaunts (Bolted through Hands) | Jack Knife Pistol (Hip)

NPC Actions:
5th Army Trapped in an Ambush on way to Palace.
Skyscraper Collapse as the battle heats up. 5th Army armor and soldiers dig in! High Civilian Losses likely. +2,000 Future Insurgents Born!

[member="Mia Monroe"]​

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Location: Sith Temple
Allies: [member="Darth Ophidia"] [member="Tes Dralyn"]
Enemy: [member="Ryan Korr"]

Darth Pyrrhus could feel the ripples in the Force. The course of the galaxy was changing. One either adapted or perished. And he was nothing if not adaptable. Standing to defend pride and honour was not the way of the Sith. To lord over conquered land in peace and only take up arms in its defence was the path to stagnation. It did not forward their cause. The success of the Dark Side was not measured in holdings and tax revenue. When they stopped forwarding that cause to make peace in order to protect and contain what they already had, they stopped being Sith. The invasion of Curscant were the fruits of stagnation.

Even after all this time Pyrrhus was learning much about the strengths and weaknesses of Sith Orders. They required a strong leader. That Dark Lord had succumbed to madness, of that he had no doubt. But before that he had provided strong leadership and direction. The Council did not speak with one voice. In fact, he hardly heard any chatter from there at all. Instead of providing that strong sense of direction, they had tended to their own personal agendas with no interest in doing anything that might aid another, a potential rival. Pyrrhus was not without blame. Instead of pushing the Sith agenda, he had shored up his powerbase in what had been Sector V back when he was Voice of the Dark Lord. He had been wrong. Land and armies were meaningless. Faith was everything.

War raged above him. It was a mess, but with no one to blame but themselves. His former master was dead again, but he had a way of finding his way back to the realm of the living, so the Togruta did not worry too much. Today he stood alone, as he expected to be doing for the time to come. Well, he was not entirely alone. There were those he would raise to become the Sith Lords of tomorrow. He had plans. He knew who he had to become. More importantly, he knew he had the capacity to become that person. If the Sith were to fall on this day, they would rise again. He would see to that. It was inevitable. Just like he knew they could never fully extinguish the Light, the galaxy would never be free of the Dark.

"Observe the fruits of stagnation, apprentice." he said to the woman standing beside him, sharing his thoughts. Everything was a lesson. "Never grow complacent. To be Sith is to live in a constant state of conflict. When you feel you have accomplished everything, you have lost." In the end, what was victory if it was not total? They had not painted the entire Galaxy red. They were not yet victorious. Perhaps the same thoughts coursing through his mind were obvious to [member="Tes Dralyn"] as well, but then she would hear them repeated. "Comfort is an illusion. Peace is a lie." he tried to say it without a sneer. He accepted the reality, but that did not mean he was pleased with it. There might have to be a little purge after this.

"Summon the Dark Side. Today we burn those who would oppose us." he adjust the sleeve of his dark robes. Ever the traditionalist he was frequently seen with those on. Today was no different. The only alteration was that instead of layers of black tunics and under-tunics, he wore an armour. It was nothing outstanding, an average make. It did its job, little more. One of these days he would commission something more worthy of a Darth. He just needed to get that tedious mining operation going. "I do not care what armour or coat of arms they carry. Those who are not with us will be destroyed." Oh yes. He was mad. On this day of the invasion of the One Sith Empire's capital the Dark Side came easy to him.

Their little conversation was interrupted by the sound of an X-Wing crashing into the temple. Of course, he didn't know it was an X-Wing that caused the ruckus. All he knew was that the war had reached their doorstep. Time to do something about it. More than just explosions and crashing vessels hitting the temple, he sensed a presence that was undeniably light. Its relation to the X-Wing was unknown, though one could perhaps connect the dots. "We have found our mark. Do you feel it?" his head tilted to observe her, trying to get a read of how she was feeling about the whole situation. With that said, there was little else to do but begin their march towards the step of the temple where they would be introduced to a new friend.

 

[Kelon Amadis]

Location: District 42
Local Security and Emergency Services Headquarters.
Mission: Beard Stroking, evil laughs, and Dming Fun For Downed Pilots

[member="Asmus Janes"] | [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Owen Holst"]

Would all find their wrecked ships being stripped quicker than you could blink. If not for one or two of the salvagers being shot by police drones above, perhaps quicker. Not that it deterred clever methods of stripping the craft, droids, burrowing retrievers, anything to make a buck from any wreckage for those living on scraps.

[member="Asmus Janes"]

Probably got the worst of the deals of the three, more bucketheads hovering around him. At least it seemed that way at first. He’d find a handful of stormtroopers not that far from his position, shining their own hand search lights. One shined the light directly in his face as he walked towards him.

“ID.”

Another leveled a gun at him. No doubt he might struggle to find ID, but regardless it’d be repeated anyway.

“ID.”

Something kicked metal over nearby from the shadows, “Krayt Sucks forever! WOOOOHOOOOOO!” Gunfire went up into the air, someone challenging the stormtroopers for walking into their gang turf. Needless to say Asmus caught a break, not much of a break, as he might find himself heavily shoved aside unless he moved.

“Over there!” And so a small firefight took place beside him, with the stormtroopers running off after our gang members. Staying on the surface, if you could call it that down here, might not be the best option. Thankfully there was a tunnel down, but that was dark, hot, and not the most appealing of cramped, trash ridden spaces. It might even take him further from his friends for all knew, could it get worse than here?

Take his chances with hiding or avoiding the reinforcements on the way, or jump down into the dark tunnels below him? There was rubble and trash to use, plenty of it down here.

[member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Owen Holst"]

They might be here anytime, but they were not the they, they might be worrying about! There was always another they down here, and one was looking through a small shutter in the wall at them, which promptly closed sharply if anyone noticed.

Shop, one of the finest for Coruscants all too stench-worthy locales, smelling like something else too if they caught it. Here it smelled of the proverbial roses that it mostly certainly was not! Used for sleeping, eating, sadly killing all too often when things went badly, but more about that strange flowery rose’ish smell later.

Everything down here was owned by someone, or often something, including the people often times. Everyone paid their dues one way or the other. People flashing credits about the locals didn’t know, in strange clothes? Nobody this low cared about Sith, Jedi, any of it, just survival. Keep the change, bought them the shop owners silence.

“Hey there! You folks not from around here huh?” Said a pale faced myke, human businessman, if you could call him that, decorated in all the fineries of a sewer rat. “Anythin’ I might be procuring for your fine lady, and yourself, this lovely evenin’?” Taking a step closer…. if he got wind of a memory core that’d make an all too tempting year’s worth of gruel to eat in trade, maybe they wanted to risk that opportunity to get out of here? [member="Allyson Locke"] Many eyes looking at both.

Overhead police drones buzzed the shop, and the surrounding area, routinely checking in search zones. Trapped between a smelly myke and the possibility of being spotted if they made too quick an obvious exit. While outside homeless people warmed their hands by burning barrels, whispering about fresh salvage, and where it might have come from.

 

[Gir Quee]

Location: Eidolon-class Transport Nighttide Three on the Skyroute D25D, Coruscant
Objective: Link up with allies
Allies: [member="Astarii Saren"] | [member="Sal Katarn"]
Enemies: [member=Abelain Narv'uk"]
Personal Gear:

Spoiler

Same as Directorate Marine lieutenant but with an Paragon-class energy shield

There was something reassuring about feeling the cold bulkhead of the transport as it slid over to its right side. As it did so, Gir could feel the thrum of the ship's twin autoblaster vibrate through the plating as it continued to rhythmically sputter out emerald bolts. He looked up to see one fly through the air and lance straight through a duraplast crate. The blonde man briefly frowned before an apparent member of the Sithwatch militia stumbled out from behind it. The bulky man took a few steps forward before his rifle escaped his grasp to clatter to the ground. Another step forward, and the man plummeted to the ground. His body began to briefly twitch, but no-one else appeared in the tower's airspeeder garage to save the man. The bravest one of the bunch...or the most stupid...He spared a quick glance at the sensor readout to make sure that no-one else present before he moved on. Gir tongue-toggled his helmet's comlink; his tongue recoiled from its plastic taste.

"Nighttide Five, Six...path is now clear."

"Wilco. Out."

The two Eidolon-class transports glided just above the tower, but lingered in front of the airspeeder hangar. Blue-gray figures began to uniformly jump out of their sterns. Each marine briefly fell before he activated his or her jetpack to fly into the hangar. Gir's eyes warily scanned the hangar; he half expected some brave or foolish defender to charge past the crates and parked speeders to repel their assault, but none came. The marines quickly fanned out into the hangar. some took up defensive positions to repel the inevitable counterattack that would come from within the public transit building. Others began to search the dead and the nearby vehicles. His pilot, a woman named Jen looked up and back at him with her big green eyes.

"You think they'll hold?"

"I don't know."

It wasn't exacting a reassuring statement, but Gir really didn't know. A good amount of the Galactic Alliance's forces and those of its allies had been tasked with taking over infrastructure in order to prevent its strategic use by the One Sith and keep it intact for the hoped liberation of the world. He knew that public transportation, while important, probably wasn't a priority for the One Sith to defend...at least not yet in the confusion wrought by the Alliance's sudden attack. His own own column of craft had taken brief detours to strafe targets of opportunities before fading away to drop of their troops at key locations. That likely should have added more confusion to the local One Sith forces, but it was no sure thing. And there was a distinct possibility that their hit-and-fade techniques may have drawn more attention from the enemy commanders. The cockpit's comlink crackled as [member="Astarii Saren"]'s message came through.

"Good copy. Nighttide group is en route to your location."

He only looked at Jen, who nodded in turn before taking the craft up and away. Their craft rose up from the hovertrain station located next to the far edge of the starport before they began their descent through the fiery skies to the war-torn starport. The other transports fell in behind his own craft before they all disappeared from view with their optical shields. He looked down at Westport and felt a wave of pity swell up inside him as they passed over wrecked starships from both sides and shattered terminals. He thought about the average citizen. It can all be rebuilt...in time...but they will remember this forever...His thoughts briefly came to a stop. But will they remember this as the day we liberated them? Or the day we conquered them...or the day that we failed him? He shook the thoughts from his head as the shuttles hovered over the starport. He need his focus on the present situation. Gir's eyes peered around the space port, but he did not see any immediate threats to his spacecraft.

"We'll maintain a holding pattern here," said Gir to Jen, "but keep a lookout for any potential threats..."

He toggled his comlink to the channel he shared with [member="Astarii Saren"].

"Nighttide group is present, ready to pick you up at your leisure."

 

[Shaddi]

Location: the carnage of the valley of Lords

When it hit him he was holding the female soldier by her neck, tears streaming down her face while the jedi tried in vain to help her though his ruptured internal organs didn't allow him to do that. Visions of the future suddenly hit his mind. "Well this is different..." He said as the vision showed him the mass of enemies heading his way, [member="Kiskla Grayson"] being the first among them as they came hurtling down in their shuttle, crashing down and going through a column and burying under the rubble. "Hmm perhaps a decent distraction." He said as he gripped hard enough so a loud crack emanated from the females neck which caused the jedi to cry out. "Now.." Erebos said as he let the females limp body go and it hit the ground with a sickening sound. "I'll leave you to think about what you've done." He said towards the whimpering jedi who wouldn't last much longer anyway with over half of his internal organs ruptured, his death would be utter agony for the time he had left.

Walking slowly towards the crashed ship with Kiskla but while he did so he pondered on the gift he had received from [member="Sera Inkari"]. "I wonder how this ability is learned." He thought as he began to wonder if the seer would teach him the ability if they both survived the invasion. When the blast of force energy opened the door for Kiskla and her guardians, Erebos stood before them a fire ball forming above his hand. "Oh I get to pick one and keep them? Well ain't that interesting." He said as the fireball expanded from above his hand to create a large winged beast made of fire, with teeth of plasma that charged towards the shuttle.

 

[Ecarht Arak]

Enemies: Stylish, Universally Saluting Anarchic Hipsters! [member="Loske Matson"] love ya really!
Objective: Dip Dip Dip Dip Dweeeeeerp (Don’t Get Cocky! Where is the fun in that!)
Fluff NPC Allies: 10/12x Ki ES Mki Aces, Gladiator Squadron.
Surrounding NPC Regular Fighter Fluff: 95/120 Ki IC Mki Interceptors - 10 Squadrons. | 48/60 Ki SB Mki Bombers - 5 Squadrons.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPxfr0a_O4A​

Oh that salute got her attention.

Anyone else might not have followed her, but there was a reason Ecs was still nearly lowest on their aces totem pole! Betcha ass she was proud to be the baby face at just eighteen, flying since just fourteen. Loske might see that much, babyface skin in her black cockpit. Attitude shown from usually coldblood sith pilots, as ecsie blew her kiss goodbye.

Best reflexes and instinct for flying there was to have, aware of their surroundings they were both moving through, climbing too. What our cocky blonde teenager lacked the ability to realise, or more honestly care about, was this was going to be a move like any other Loske was pulling her into. She'd pull her ass out of the fire if it was, same as always.

Well into lagging pursuit now, which meant Ecs was raising her altitude, but lagging below where Loske was, not able to get angle right to fire on her target. “Come onnnnnnnnnn,” she pulled hard, making her lose speed and distance as she brought up angle toward her. G force’s rattling her fighter, but her baby was made to take it... What she wasn't built to take was underbelly guns ripping across top of her fighter. Ecs saw them in time to save her ship but not damage to her right wing! Inexperience in fighting aces had walked her right into that one!

“Little more….” Tone starting about now, Loske might hear warnings of her trying to lock missile on her rear from behind her. Entering a sideslipping rudder roll to give her time, backstick pressure on high, rotation which cause her to slide as the shots came in. Erratic to track, while keeping the nose focused on her target.

Assumed Warning Sounds: Dip Dip Dip Dip Dweeeeeeeerppppp, “Salute this!” Proton torpedo sent with love!

Banking away sharply to see how bad her wing damage was, and beginning a less than smooth turn to give her distance.

[member="Loske Matson"]​

 

[Kyber Salurra]

Location: Outside the Old Galactic Senate.
Mission: Secure the Building.
Allies: Galactic Alliance // [member="Aela Talith"] // [member="Adder"]
Enemies: One Sith
Gear: Personal Heavy Armor - Usual Equipment - BTI-CC13 Blaster Rifle - (4x) Flashbang Grenade - (2x) EMP Grenade - (2x) Thermal Detonator

Kyber kept smiling with excitement as he saw the freighter cargo door open- so excited in fact he jumped out before the ship even slowed down completely. Kyber immediately un-holstered his dual pistols and began firing with precision on the enemy's closest barricade to him as he used his jetpack to slow his descent at the last few moments, rolling safely in-front of said barricade. As Kyber leaned his back against the barricade he re-holstered his pistols, watching the Jedi and the rest of her legion pour out of the large freighter. Now that the attention was off him, Kyber slipped his Quiet-snipe off his back and flicked on his thermals. Turning towards the action again Kyber began scoping out any and all rooftops and windows for any possible bird's nests. Just as Kyber expected, he found a few. Three to be exact actually- one more than he expected. Today was Kyber's lucky day.

Kyber turned off his thermals and smiled to himself once again as he pushed himself up to a squatting position. Kyber turned himself around towards the fighting once again as he noticed someone who didn't quite fit in with the rest of the Legion. Not a soldier by the look of her- but definitely not a civilian. Before Kyber could process her place on the battlefield the woman and a few other soldiers burst out of cover and sprinted for the door.

With a large heave and a grunt that may or may not have been just a very aggressive sounding curse; Kyber lifted up and slammed his rifle down on to the barricade- not caring who notices him at this point as his only concern is to take out those snipers before those soldiers' brain matter ended up on the floor. He turned quickly towards the first and closest sniper and dispatched the trooper with ease, their lifeless body falling forward from the rooftop onto an unfortunate sith trooper below who now shared his dead ally's fate. The Second sniper was a bit trickier as he didn't have a good enough vantage point.

"Chit."

Kyber sighed to himself as he stood up from behind the safety of the barricade and shot the second sniper, this time a little less accurate as the magpellet ripped through the body of the soldier. Now there was only one left. Kyber quickly turned towards the third sniper and looked down his scope. Unlike the others, this particular sniper was smart. She was already staring directly at Kyber. Well, this is it. Kyber's heart skipped a beat as he could feel how fragile his life actually is. Kyber hadn't experienced that feeling in a long time.

As Kyber flexed his finger to pull the trigger he felt something hot hit him hard directly in the chest, enough force to knock him down. But... he wasn't dead? No time to think. Kyber quickly lifted up his sniper and shot directly at the third sniper, not putting his scope down until she had fallen from her rifle. Now that Kyber could actually take a second to process what had happened, he looked down to his chest and took a sigh of relief. It seems as he was standing some random trooper shot him in the chest, allowing him to escape death. Or maybe not, who knows if Kyber would've shot first? Now that question would bother him for awhile.

By the time Kyber picked himself back up the unsuspecting troopers had made it to the door alive along with the Jedi. Kyber took just one more sigh of relief before letting his Quiet-snipe's sling pull it to his side as he let go. With a light sprint and a shouldering of his Blaster Rifle he made his way towards the door from the edge of the battlefield- picking off any stragglers as he made his way through. Patching through the GA comms he contacted Aela; "I suggest you tell your men to watch the high windows and tall pillars- this building is any sharpshooter's wet dream. Long hallways and careless soldiers make easy pickings, ma'am."

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

"Here it was they lit the flame.​

Here they sang about tomorrow.​

And tomorrow never came."​

​

Location: Steps of the Sith Temple
Allies: [member="Marcello Matteo"] (falling from sky) | [member="Kiskla Grayson"] (breaking from crashed drop ship)
Enemies: [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Tes Dralyn"]
Equipment: in character sheet

Every stride up these steps, every footfall seemed to add to the growing weight upon his shoulders and in his chest. Ryan Korr set his jaw, pale features rigid as granite, weathered and worn by stress and battle. A silvery divet slashed down from his right eye, an old scar; one of many. Eyes flashed in the light of day, bright and sharp as drawn steel. Long locks of auburn were tucked neatly behind his ears, their shade such as though to make up for the lack of color in skin and eye.

Upright he walked, on a path set by fate or the fires of righteous vengeance. He could no more step off this course than he could escape a black hole, sucking him in with sure inevitability. He knew not waited for him on the other side, only that he walked now through the very penumbra of darkness.

The lamellar girding his form creaked as he walked, a close-fitting oppressive weight that reminded him of his purpose here. He came not as a peacemaker, or an arbiter, for with the Sith there could be no peace. He came as a warrior, to bring about final judgement.

Familiar presences drew close and he knew not whether they were ghost or living. Marcello he felt, descending down from above like an avenging angel. And behind him, near the bottom of the steps… Grayson? Korr’s teeth ground together and his footsteps nearly faltered. Could it be that they would all be united here, beneath the very same place where it had all fallen to ruin the better part of a decade ago?

Or would they all fall once more…

Ryan felt the shades before they emerged from the temple. Their noxious auras pervaded every sense with a fog of sickly-sweet, malevolent power. Korr removed the longhandled lightsaber and took a two-handed grip.

No. No more retreats. No more defeats. If the Alliance failed this day, then let me die on this sacred ground, where once I laughed with friends.

Remembering the day when the temple crumbled, Korr also recalled the way he’d been ambushed from behind by an invisible. Two circular scars upon his back - mirrored by matching ones upon his chest - reminded him of his helplessness as he lay in the rubble like a corpse. Never again.

Closing his eyes, the Vahla Jedi opened himself fully to the Force until he could feel the ebb and flow around him, a river of serenity. Ryan let the mortal senses fade away, fragile things. Easily deceived. The Force was another affair entirely. Eyes flared open, exposing irises and pupils gone white-blue with an unearthly sight.

Korr swept his gaze across the top of the steps and shadows melted away like morning mist beneath the sun’s unyielding rays. He saw them clearly, forms outlined in red.

“Sith of Coruscant, surrender...”

A bar of azure flame leapt to life in his hands with a vibrant snap-hiss.

“...or make peace with mortality.”