Invasion Chapter One: Eclipse | Long Live the Empire DE vs GA Coruscant

[Veli'ae Ashai]

A freezing shadow appeared at the outermost edge of Bernard's vision. His eyes had barely moved to focus it when half his vision disappeared.

Crepuscular tendrils melted through his eyelids. The words echoing in the wind never reached his ears.

Bernard's knees buckled and bent. He fell, screaming into the burning skies above, and clutched the left side of his face.

HRAAAGH

It burned. Caustic fire, burning deep. Burning deeper.

Half of the world ceased to be.

He screamed again, guttural and from deep within his lungs.

AAARRRKGH

​

....

There is a satisfaction that is felt when inflicting pain to your enemy. To know how far your training and sacrifice's in the name of vision and power takes you. Before I witnessed the product of pure growth. As was by design.

As I landed my vicious blow, the tips of my noxious finger searing his flesh, a rush of satisfaction flooded through me. The Jedi recoils, pain etched across his face, and I felt an overwhelming surge of superiority. This is what it means to harness the Dark Side, to bend the universe to my will. Each scream, each cry of anguish from Bernard was a testament to my growth, to my ascension and training. A melody of suffering that fueled me and yet was conducted by my own hand.

I watched him, the Jedi scum, as the biological functions take over. The eyes widened, pupils dilating with a primal fear that grips him. The fight, flight, or freeze response was almost palpable, a dance of survival instincts laid bare before me. His breathing grew ragged, each gasp a desperate attempt to stave off the inevitable. It is a surreal experience, observing the unraveling of his composure, the breaking of his very body.

" And here I thought Jedi were powerful! Stand up Jedi!" I taunted aloud and laughed. Like rubbing salt into a wound. I laughed. My voice booming through the currents of the winds woven with the force.

Suddenly, that cold snapped to new lows. The blood around his hands froze to crystals. A thin sheet of frost expanded over his hands and right-side face. Temperatures continued dropping. The freezing point had long been abandoned for greater depths.

Thin strands of mist escaped from beneath his hands, still tightly holding his face.

He doubled over forwards, facing the ground on his knees.

The burning corrosion disappeared. But the pain remained. A freezing fire took its place.

He screamed again, curled and on his knees, into his chest, into nothing.

GRRAAAAAH

The cold expanded. Frost crept along the hems of his sleeves. The blood crystallized in his robes and glinted under the red-orange sun of the war above. Beneath him, the metal began to shine as ice slowly formed on its surface. Mist pearled off his robes as the very air began to go so cold the nitrogen froze to dust.

The cold knew no mercy. Everything it caught succumbed, froze, and perished in time.

The cold presence that Prowler perceived to be himself, that cold chill that exuded seemed to grow exponentially. But it was not my own. With one hand still hovering over the Sword of the Jedi, the Filar Nitzan turned his attention to a retreating Kyric with a devilish grin. The gaseous smoke demon originated his attack from the cover of the boys shadow and now he had moved. Whether it was intentional or not was beyond any reason because Prowler deemed it otherwise.

The cold crept silently...

From the floor the Dark Jedi arose pivoting in place and extending a tendril of smoke that crackled with the pops of electricity. From the depths within the Dark Jedi's own internal abyss he dived and harnessed the control needed to lash out and subdue. Not Bernard. His target was the weakened Kyric as the master of dread and fellow Dark Side Elite arrived on the platform with a leap.

Into my very makeup it crept...

A dozen strands exploded out from the Prowlers chosen vestige of a limb. The wrackling energy threatening to seize hold of this Son of Ryv and restrict his movement any further. To torture. To humiliate. To cause fear in the face of immanent the threat that was Creuat . Attempting to bare an invisible weight over the padawan. A hold that was never meant to be. The Dark Jedi called to his own kind with a thrill in his eyes. " For our Master!" he exclaimed and suddenly his power strained.

I never felt or saw the threat in it coming. I, Prowler, made a mistake...

Attached to the floor Prowler looked down and felt his visage of electrified combat turn to horror as the ice rapidly began to neutralize his acidic nature and solidify into...Ice. As his gaseous nature transitioned into a solid, the only thing he could do was give a warning to his fellow Dark Jedi before the ice completely converted him and froze the Filar-Nitzan solid. " Creuat!" And with this new form the lightning would cease to be.

Like a sculpture.

Allies: Creuat Darth Solipsis Sahar
Jedi scum: Bernard Kyric Auteme Thalia Senn Damien Dooku
Objective: Buffering. ​

 

[Tansu Treicolt]

CORUSCANT | ATMOSPHERE | DE DESTROYER
OBJECTIVE I | ECLIPSE

​

As soon as Talin indicated that they should just act natural, Tansu forgot everything that she normally did. What was natural? Her sister fed through a less than riveting story of Dax and a bowl of noodles and all Tansu could do was deliver the fakest laugh she'd ever conjured. There was not a thing natural about her mechanical sounding ha-ha-ha.

All ideas of natural and normal were full stop when Talin dragged out the imperial. Tansu gasped. Shocked partly by the stowaway, and partly by her sister.

"You're gonna put that blaster down."

Every ounce of protective care flurried to the fore of Tansu's reactive prowess. That was her sister with a blaster pointed at her face! That was all the twin saw — her mirror looking down the wrong end of the blaster and in peril.

"And was that a tetan accent? Don't know how you managed to get in here, but you made your bed. They're gonna come for you less I answer. I'm not gonna do that unless you drop your weapons. Damned if you do…"

Options, options, options! They needed options! How could they disarm the officer while ensuring Talin's safety? She was at such close range that any Force trick in Tansu's arsenal would only put Talin at risk. Fear bloomed out from Tansu's signature within the meld.

"S-steady, Talin."
"Be calm, we are almost done here and then we can all part ways peacefully."

The only option Tansu could think of was somehow inserting a thin, Force-born barrier around her sister in case she imperial shot. It was hard to think. Hard to come up with something — she felt like she was waking up without falling asleep first. Her awareness shifted, opened, became something it hand't been a moment before.

"And you've never shot anyone before... have you?"

The texture of the emotions was wrong. The way they slid across Tansu's mind. She knew them as they came, but felt them briefer than anything before. It was as if Talin answered Dax from all those months ago with a new voice, one hardened and laughing in his smirky face.

"Give him the codes."

A rush of emotions and reactions welled up inside her. All as unfamiliar as if the meld were being shared by strangers rather than her closest blood. Insecurity, shame, embarrassment, judgement, panic, desperation, fury. Tansu could put names to each of the feelings and the names were all ones she'd suffered under before — but not through the lens she felt them.

Her realization was slow-coming, but with effort, she understood more of Talin's perspective. The sting of embarrassment was like feeling it for the first time. The sorrow was a flavour of sorrow she'd never generated before. There was a shame that was a different nuance of shame. The pride were far more superficial than she'd experienced. Fleeting. Forced.

Where is this coming from, Lin? We can figure it out. Tansu urged, facing her palms out to her sister to show she was there to help. She would always be there to help. They'd left the farm to take on the galaxy together and she wasn't about to let her sister kill her first —

— no. That wasn't right.

The answer came to her in a faint drift of memories. Slippery translucent things that shaped the reason behind the whites of Talin's knuckles and the flex of her finger on the trigger.

Cade needed to die. And his death needed to be slow and especially painful.

She was overwhelmed by a storm she couldn't see, but felt it beating at her from every direction.

Lin. Tansu pleaded.

The Imp didn't back down. He was rigid and nasty.

"You're as stupid as you look little girl, if you think the Empire's going to feel the prick of a couple hicks and a Tetan whose world is on fire. You're dust. Barely a speck in our plans." The imperial made a noise that sounded like a snide-filled laugh. "It's been too long that I haven't answered. This comm room is where you die."

How many times had The Imperials put down Treicolts? They'd turned on their parents twice, at least, and nearly destroyed Concord Dawn with neglect. They were a cancer to the galaxy, rotten, evil, and soiled every thing they touched. Tansu felt something behind her ribs click, and the certainty that this was wrong became muddled with a distant feeling of something else. Her ability to starkly contrast her sister muted, and her desperation for understanding and union with the other half of her soul yearned out and gave way to the complete picture. Her awareness widened like its jaw had unhinged and she exploded into white.

Maynard Treicolt 's voice filled the space, reverberating again and again from a memory she'd never had.

"Do it."

A blaster fired.

Lost in a cacophony of memory and identity and sensation, she felt nothing but shame.

____________________________________________________________
SIDEQUEST SABER SQUADRON ENJOYERS | Talin Treicolt | Talsin Lota
ENEMIES | OTHERWISE | Rude Imperial Employee
____________________________________________________________​

​

 

[Onrai]

Tags: Lossa Aureus Zaiya Ceti Denn Verdan Vianca Mecetti Amelia von Sorenn Kol Ambo DM Player-Slayer

On the bridge, the form of Onrai and Via soaked up the cacophony of blaster fire, arcs of midnight black-colored energy sparking from her form as her possession of the ship continued. The abomination grew more and more angered as the ship in question began to fall apart. A sudden wave of energy, forced from the twisted construct, would likely send the bridge crew to their feet. Tendrils of... whatever the being's construct was made of sought to snare the remaining bridge crew in question, seeking to devour them whole and fully consume their essence, physically and spiritually.

From the exterior of the ship, explosions would break out, courtesy of the internal sabotage of the vessel almost as much as Onrai's essence overstraining the ship's already taxed systems. The engines of the vessel utterly detonated, another sudden lurch as the ship became dead weight in space. The turbolasers on the ship became streams of equally maleficent energy coursing towards the corvettes - streams that, like a web, moved to rush up the lines of the tractor beams as well. Over the comms of the 4 corvettes that sought to drag the crippled ship away, a hideous transmission would be not so much received as forced into the comm systems, isolated from the remaining ships in the fleet as the presence now filling the decks of the Ballarat sought to infest her tugs as well.

Spoiler: The Transmission

DO NOT WEAR HEADPHONES

-

Within the mind of Lossa herself, the application of calm applied by Via was augmented by Zaiya's own presence. Sensing that she would be too busy dealing with her attempt to further infest the fleet to adequately provide the laboring Jedi comfort, Via did something particularly unusual. A small, microcosmically splinter of the being's essence sought to plant itself within the Jedi's mind, taking advantage of the woman's subconscious darkness having been heavily injured. This shard - a modicum of the aberration that merely viewed itself as a manifestation of Via - took over the effort of keeping the woman calm.

Within the mind's eye, she sought to draw Lossa's consciousness into a comfortable dream of its own making - a smooth, sandy Naboo beach, comfortable, with soft rays of sun trickling down upon her. A pleasant place, enough of a distraction to keep away the pain, the stress - the darkness that had threatened to unnecessarily devour her whole. In time, perhaps, this splinter of the greater being would hopefully serve a greater purpose.

Perhaps Denn and Zaiya would yet find their way here too through their present bond.

"This is certainly one form of paradise." The fragment said, manifesting as a soft greenish wisp within the dreamscape.

-

The wave of energy bomblets impacted on the Toxmalb as the stealth fighters moved to intercept the droid starfighters, moving to rely on optical targeting and thermal sensors as opposed to conventional tracking methods for the ship. A shudder strained the shields as the corvette began to power up its hyperdrive, planning on soon making an exodus from the field.

It had done its work.

 

[Ariana Du Couteau]

Ariana Du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta ,Jedi Padawan
Location: Coruscant, Senate Building
Action: Survive, Rescue and Escape. . .
Cape

Ariana raised an eyebrow as the man in front of her began to explain himself, in a rather confusing way. While she knew he was speaking galactic basic, the way he strung together his words certainly needed additional translation. The young Du Couteau heiress sighed but at least it sounded like the former Chancellor had a plan to get out of the Senate Building.

“Fine, lead the way.” She mumbled as Tithe began to maneuver up ahead and waved back at her to follow quickly.

Shaking her head at the absurdity of it all Ariana followed the man, keeping close as to both keep an eye and provide cover. The building around them all was shifting unevenly beneath their feet and quite literally the pillars holding up the democratic halls of the Senate were crumbling. Ariana kept her wits about her, eyes darting all around and constantly keeping any debris from falling right on top of their heads.

The Force was more than a useful tool, but only when the circumstances were perfect could a Force user not feel the strain of using their abilities. Like how I’m hardly in a calm state of mind and completely at my wits end with how everything is happening around me. She didn’t want to take her brother’s spot on the Senate body, all she wanted was her brother to be safe and everything to return back to some sort of normal.

Ariana slowed herself down as she no longer watched Tithe but instead the vast open gap of the Senate Building. The screams of TIEs and Alliance starfighters roared as the battle simply continued to grow in intensity. This wasn’t anything like Illum, nothing like it at all, even the open plains of Tython had the ability to be comprehend. What happened. The question in her mind felt like a statement of the insanity of chaos.

“Cry havoc,” Ariana spoke breathlessly.

Tithe spoke up, another economic phrase Ariana figured, but her eyes caught the movement of a shuttle getting closer to them. The shuttle crept closer to them, as if the onboard computer was gauging the likelihood of the building collapsing on top of it. Well I guess the computer doesn’t like the odds. The shuttle decided to stop what seemed like a hundred meters away but it at least did the courtesy of extending its ramp.

“Short heading back in to grab some sort of grav-chute or jetpack, grab either end of the cape you stole so it can help slow your descent.” Ariana responded, she unbuttoned her own cape that wrapped around her, a moment was spent to stare at her poor disfigured cybernetic hand, while it still functioned the edges were practically sharpened into a jagged edge. She was losing pieces of herself and the imagery alone gave her warning of what could happen to her if she wasn't careful.

“I used to jump from great heights into the pool with a cape parachute as a kid,” Ariana explained, “-Never missed my landing.” She added, an afterthought of encouragement.

I mean my landing was the pool, and well, the pool was quite large. . . and well my parents made me stop after that singular time. . .

“I would say age before beauty, but my father didn’t raise a coward. . . and it will be easier for me to guide you after.” Ariana then proceeded to jump forward and down. “He also didn’t raise an idiot.” Words that no doubt her brother would have muttered if he saw her idiocy in full display. Ariana of course blamed the galaxy for the hand that was dealt to her, present company included.

I also doubt the Senate Building would last long enough for us to find a closer exit.

The cape worked less than stellar but all it needed to do was catch enough air to help slow her descent. The precious seconds given to her this way, allowed Ariana to maneuver with the Force enough to land gracefully on the rampart of the shuttle. With a quick flick of her wrist Ariana managed to get her cape back on her shoulder and buttoned even before she swiveled on her feet and turned to face up.

“Fall towards the sky and catch your ride!” Ariana shouted, she doubt Tithe could hear her with all the wind and sounds of battle around them. Though it did give Ariana some respite to be able to yell.
​

|| Aerarii Tithe ||​

 

[Talsin Lota]

Friends: Talin Treicolt | Tansu Treicolt
Enemies: The DE | One Dead Imperial

He followed some of what was transpiring with Talin, but nowhere near what Tansu was experiencing.

The meld gave him insight but it didn't pull him into memory lane. For the best because he was finally making headway with the console and he had managed to shove down the inexplicable feeling of fear. It was the most annoying thing ever. It felt external from him, like it wasn't his fear, as if someone else was fully terrified for their lives... but that was how fear could affect you apparently. It made you a spectator and Talsin wasn't good at playing spectator.

"Oh, chit, we got it. I got it! We can-"

Through his sentence the outburst of a blaster shot interrupted him. His eyes widened as he slowly... turned around to see Talin standing over the Imperial who very much wasn't speaking anymore.

"T-Talin? He was..." Defenseless, already on the ground, you didn't have to kill him. Talsin couldn't get the words out as he stared at the newly-created corpse but he didn't have to. The sentiment was already laid out there in the mind-melt. He ran his fingers through his hair, nervous energy, trying to decide if he wanted to cry, throw up or run away.

All of the above?

He picked the third option as he felt himself floating away from the console, his hand settling on Tansu's shoulder while trying not to look at the corpse again. He failed and felt himself get even more sick. "We- should go. I got the... data." In the back of his mind he heard screaming, but that must be his own mind recoiling at... this.

"Let's go, both of you, we can't... be here." Tugging Tansu along and assuming Talin would be following along. As they walked, Talsin found himself speeding up, less concerned about being seen (being concerned right now was overridden by the sheer terror. He still heard the blaster shot, over and over again in his head). It had shattered something inside of him.

Halfway through to the hangar it happened however.

The screaming took over in his head and his knees hit the deck before he realized what happened. His mind was blanked out as he found himself yanked to a different place, a different spot but at the same time.

"Take the children, GO, I will hold them off. No, don't argue, you need to be there for the girls and for Tal-" A blaster shot rang out and it echoed several more times afterwards through Talsin's head as he saw his father fall to the ground while trying to convince his mother to run. She screamed, turning around towards the shuttle and managed several more steps before cold pain ran through her back.

She was falling.

The last thing she saw was the terrified faces of her children right before the shuttle door closed and started lift-off. The last thought on her mind was hoping that Talsin was safe... and that she had hoped to have more time... more time with them all.

Another blink and Talsin was back in his own body, clutching his knees, and eyes even wider as he stared around wildly. He didn't have to explain, that sensation had been so intense, the visions so overpowering they would have bled through their meld fully. They felt the pain radiating through the entirety of his body. The loss. The grief. The sheer feeling of guilt of having chosen to be here instead of being there with them.

"I..." He swallowed, glancing to them both, starting to try and get back up again. "I-I am o-okay. Let's... let's go."

 

[Creuat]

B L A C K G U A R D
CORUSCANT | GALACTIC SENATE
Darth Solipsis | Auteme | Kyric | Veli'ae Ashai | Bernard | Sahar | Thalia Senn | Damien Dooku

POWER​

Pride and satisfaction filled him when his lightsaber cut out Kyric’s eye, the intense heat from the blade burned scars around where his eye once was. The sense of victory and Kyric’s pain made him gloat in silence, now prepared to finish what remained here. Two broken Jedi at the mercy of the Emperor’s Chosen, yet they clung to their false truths of the light.

How unfortunate as they would have to pay for their lack of vision.

A series of events occurred one over another. Kyric’s weak attempt of the Force sending small bits of debris flying past him, none touched him. Prowler’s display of the Dark Side as tendrils of lightning arced to the young Jedi. Awesome power which ceased as a cold crept up from the body of Bernard, the cold consuming whatever it touched as the gaseous form of his fellow Dark Side Elite became a perfect sculpture.

“Creuat!”

Was the only warning the Nautolan received from Prowler, before the ice subdued him into his new solid form. Frozen in time while the battle continued.

The Dark Jedi, too, stepped away from the expansion of the cold to avoid from turning into an icicle as his compatriot. Still he could feel the effects of the cold as his skin chilled and his breath could be seen. The temperature around them continued to decline, and soon it would be unbearable for all of them. Creaut’s attention returned to Kyric, the boy once again to do battle.

After everything and he did not learn? The boy was truly his father’s son. The same arrogance and stubbornness rooted deep within him. What words could he spare to have the young Jedi retreat into his dark emotions? Only torture could sway him to the Dark Side as well as tormenting his loved ones.

“Your efforts are futile, Kyric. You will only find pain and sorrow, and your friends will suffer because of you. When I return to my Master’s side, we will find your cousins and that mysterious woman and they will serve the Emperor…”

“…or die.”

He grinned for the Jedi Lord to see, before his hands released tendrils of blue lightning onto Kyric. Power manifested from his anger and hate, now preying to torment the young Jedi.

 

[Aether of the Iron Order]

L O N G_L I V E_T H E_E M P I R E
Chapter One : Eclipse

DARK EMPIRE
CORUSCANT, CORE WORLDS

​

Spoiler: Task Force Vader

TASK FORCE VADER
Main Fleet INV Predator [039|041] INV Tyuk [100|037] INV Indomitable [100|047] INV Urbanus [100|035] INV Stalker [054|005] INV Starbreaker [028|005] INV Nightmare [058|057] INV Oblivion [100|028] INV Revenge [022|005] INV Dominator [024|005] INV Dark Omen [100|052]
Starfighter Compliment TIE/hab Brutes TIE/fdT Terminators TIE/fdA Annihilators

"The Primary Shields are down!"

"We're reporting severe damage to the Hull"

"We've lost the Starboard engines!"

As the Bridge erupted into activity as the crew scrambled to respond to the sudden overwhelming attack against the INV Predator, Marlon Sularen simply sat there unfazed by the chaos and destruction that raged all across him, even as one of the collector crabs landed right on the bridge superstructure. Already the INV Predator was starting to list on it's starboard side while the hull breaches created by the collector crabs were only growing larger as they began wreaking havoc across the Grand Admiral's Flagship, bringing it on the verge of destruction. "Sir! Sir!" Rackham shouted in a somewhat panicking tone, trying to gain his attention. "What are your orders sir?"

Sularen sighed as the bridge shook once more. "They've overplayed their hand." he simply responded. "What?" Rackham said confused, as the bridge shook around them once more. "The enemy. They've been throwing everything at us, from the Jedi Boarding party, to the attack on our engines, to those crab-like vessels latching onto us." Sularen explained. "With all the damage done, they now hold the assumption that victory is all but guaranteed, forgetting that we still have plenty of cards up our sleeves." he added. At that very moment, 2 Sovereign Protectors and a group of 6 SpecNav Commandos entered the bridge of the Predator, marking the arrival of the security contingent assigned to protect the bridge against the inevitable Jedi offensive. Sularen then proceeded to stand up taking one more look at the battle raging all across his ship. "Now, we end this." he proclaimed.

"Send all of our Dark Troopers to take out those crab-like vessels on our hull, and redirect portions of the fleet and our starfighter compliment to confront the ships attacking our engines" Sularen ordered. He would unleash everything he had his opponents, this battle would be his and he would make sure that the outcome of this battle transpired as he saw fit. "What about the Jedi?" Rackham asked, well-aware of the fact that the two Jedi that were in Hangar-15 were making fast progress to the bridge. "I'll handle them myself. The bridge is now yours, Colonel." the Grand Admiral proclaimed, before moving to walk out of the bridge, followed by the pair of Sovereign Protectors ready to confront the pair of Jedi that were headed towards the bridge.

As Sularen exited the bridge, he would find himself in a wide and long hallway that served as the only way in or out of the bridge of his flagship. At each side of the entrance leading into the bridge were 8 SpecNav Commandos, their guns pointed at the other entrance to the Hallway across them already anticipating that the Jedi would soon make their presence known. In addition to this, three separate electron walls had been raised across the hallway, ensuring that the Jedi wouldn't be able to immediately charge against the Grand Admiral and his protection detail. Now all that was left was to wait for the Jedi themselves to arrive so that Sularen could make quick work of them before he could return to commanding his fleet.

Meanwhile at the same time, the Predator's escorting warships began to return fire upon the Frigates and Heavy Capital Ships that had been attacking it's engines, unleashing heavy volleys and missile barrages against their foes. While the Grand Admiral's flagship would be unable to properly counter overwhelming attack against it's engines, it possessed enough escorts with a significant amount of firepower to disperse the futile attempt to bring down the Grand Admiral's flagship. At the same time, a large swarm of TIEs descended upon the largest ships targeting the Predator, with the various TIE Annihilators within the massive formation moving into attack position to launch bombing runs against those very vessels while the TIE Brutes and TIE Terminators provided cover against enemy starfighters that would try to prevent the Annihilators from hitting their targets.

As Task Force Vader would move into action once more, large swarms of Beskar-armored Dark Troopers began to emerge from the hangars of the larger Battlecruisers of Sularen's Fleet in addition to the INV Predator itself, headed straight for the Collector Crabs latched onto the Predator's Hull. While the Crabs focused on drilling further within the hull of the Predator, the Dark Troopers would soon begin to make landfall all across the ships, seeking to force their way inside the Collector Crabs to shut down the ships before they could do any further damage to the INV Predator.

The Final Act of the Battle of Coruscant had finally begun, and Sularen intended to secure a victory for himself and the Empire through any means necessary. While the Jedi were under the impression that they held the upper hand, the Grand Admiral stood ready to prove them wrong and once more seize control of the situation regardless of the opposition he would face.

Spoiler: TLDR

• The INV Predator takes severe damage to it's hull and shields as a result of the combined attacks from enemy ships
• Sularen moves outside the bridge in preparation to confront the Jedi intruders supported by a pair of Sovereign Protectors and a Squad of SpecNav Commandos with three Electron Walls erected across the wide and long hallway leading to the Bridge of the Predator to halt their advance
• The Rest of Task Force Vader (excluding the Predator) launch an all-out counter-attack against all ships attacking the Predator, supported by squadrons of various TIEs
• Large Waves of thousands of Dark Troopers are unleashed from the hangars of all Four Battlecruisers of Task Force Vader [Predator, Tyuk, Indomintable, Urbanus] with orders to destroy the Collector Crabs latched onto the Predator's hull.

Tags [GA] | Lossa Aureus | Jasper Kai'el | Braze | Pal Veda | Aether of the Iron Order | DM Player-Slayer
Tags [DE] | Abraxas Colt

AX-01 Vanguard Mark I
Jedi Securitron Model Parts
[Aether's Build]

Weapons : 1 Training lightsaber | 2 Corsage [Foil +Gun] | 3 Calypso [ Broad Saber] | 4 Resurgence [Crossguard] |5 Whirlwind [Chain Kama] | 6 Hot 'n' Heavy Compensator | 7 War Maul

| Fang- Gun | G.O.O. Gun | Phantom Gun |

TAGS: Marlon Sularen

Once the escape pods had all been jettisoned, Aether set to work on the life support systems, dismantling them with an aggressive efficiency. He moved with a focused intensity, his actions methodical.

Suddenly, the comlink crackled to life. "Aether, do you copy? This is Grax. We need you on the exterior hull, now!" Grax's voice was urgent.

Without hesitation, Aether responded, "Copy that, Grax. I'm on my way."

Aether whom was like a one man army, fought his way back to the hyper drives and scattered fractured Fire Gems all across the floors and around the Hyper drives. He detatche dteh bags he had them in and dropped them where he stood. "Hey kid don't be on this ship if they activate the hyper drives. " Aether called to Braze via comms on his way out.

He made his way to the exterior hull, his senses heightened. Along the path, he encountered several Glory III-class Dark Troopers, formidable adversaries with their Beskar armor and advanced weaponry.

Aether didn't falter. Drawing the Hot-N-Heavy Compensator, a lightsaber war maul designed to generate superheated plasma, Aether charged forward.

The Compensator ignited, its superheated plasma blade crackling to life with a fierce intensity. Aether swung the war maul with powerful precision, the plasma blade tearing through the Beskar armor of the Dark Troopers. Each strike landed with devastating force, the superheated blade melting and cutting through their defenses.

One by one, the Dark Troopers fell, their formidable armor no match for the overwhelming power of the Compensator. He spotted the Ashwing starfighter, its sleek design unmistakable against the backdrop of space. And he needed to use it to protect the non-decoy Collector Crab.

Climbing aboard the Ashwing, Aether activated the starfighter's systems, bringing its powerful engines and weaponry online. The acid sprayers on the Ashwing hissed to life, ready to dissolve any threats. He maneuvered the starfighter into a defensive position around the Collector Crab, its true purpose critical to their mission.

As more Dark Troopers approached, Aether expertly piloted the Ashwing, using its agility and weaponry to keep them at bay. The acid sprayers released streams of corrosive acid, which ate through the approaching Dark Troopers, neutralizing the threat.

 

[Tulan Kor]

​

With: GADF Soldiers l Thirdas Heavenshield l Reima Vitalis
Fighting: DE Troops l Castor E-196
Objective: CUT INSIDE!


Tulan tensed up, watching the Gunship get lower and lower, holding the large loop. The pilot was good- real good. Whoever it was, earned their wings and then some. He looked down at the crack team of Commandos and Troopers, who all nervously checked their clip-ons to their rig. He gave a thumbs up first, tapping the next, and the next one tapped, giving a thumbs up, all the way down the line. With low visuals and a lot of noise, it was imperative that everyone communicated non-verbally. The taps went up the line, then back down, just as they would any drop from orbit, or from a parachute.

Tulan looked up, and waited for the Gunship to come down-

And hooked the team onto one of the wire cutters on the bottom of the craft. He took a deep breath, and waited for it to go forward, letting his body go limp and his rifle clip to his chest.

They were all yanked into the air, dangling from the tow line, ready to kick some ass. Tulan was amazed at the destruction of Coruscant- flying above the dust cloud... it was what could only be described as an apocalypse. The sky was burning.

They passed over destroyed buildings, heading to that looming monstrosity of a ship. It was unnervingly large- but the pilot they had, weaved them between dogfighting starfighters and the unending exchange of blaster fire down below. They were eventually over the ship, and the first Commando touched down- and she tugged down, and everyone fell in line. Tulan was the last to touch down, and unhooked their TOW line from the ship. He waved off the gunship, as the Eclipse's many defense turrets, overwhelmed with the fighting somewhat, began to target her.

Tulan walked over to Thirdas, making sure to keep himself steady on the ship. The wind of the city was already picking up, and if the ship went much higher, the two of them wouldn't have a chance of holding on. He put a hand on his shoulder, speaking loudly, his voice magnified by his helmet.

"Thirdas! Get your team to find an access hatch and get us an opening!"

 

[Bernard]

Coruscant, Senate Building
Ruins of the Senate Building, atop the Eclipse III
---

[ Someone is Always Moving On The Surface ]​

Fellow actors on stage: Veli'ae Ashai Kyric Creuat
Related to the storyline: Auteme Darth Solipsis as well as Sahar Thalia Senn

SWORD OF THE JEDI

​

Distantly, he could make out a loud crackling sound. Bright light flickered in the bloodied ice around him, but only for a moment. It disappeared the moment he felt a sudden thud travel through the senate pod's metal. He looked up, shaking fiercely. The figure of a vaguely humanoid, amorphous shape, Prowler, had dropped to the floor, completely frozen solid.

And with its fall, the pain had subsided.

His breaths came in big clouds of mist that sparkled as the moisture turned to tiny ice crystals the moment it got past his lips. But for the first time since the surprise attack, he could feel something other than excruciating pain again.

Shakily, he tried moving, first by lifting his leg in order to get some leverage to stand up. The cloth of his robes, blood-soaked around his shins, had frozen solid to the floor. It took some effort to break free from the ice binding, sending a faint glimmer of pain up his right leg as he did. His left leg broke free more easily with the momentum of his climb to stand up.

He rose up, swaying once, and caught his balance.

The floor lit up again, and the distant sound of crackling thunder broke through the dull ringing in his ears. Bernard turned to see, half of the world obscured in darkness, lightning shooting from Rhis' fingertips, aimed directly for Kyric.

Without missing a beat, he forced his legs to carry him forward. Unsteady, stumbling steps made him work hard to maintain balance. He got closer, and closer to the lightning until suddenly, it jumped from its intended target to Bernard. The dark energies danced along his upper torso as he stood, hunched forward. He groaned, but not pain, but with exertion. While stumbling, he'd begun channeling the Force, taking what he could from what reserves remained in his broken and battered body.

He begun directing the energy of Rhis' lightning along his body to dissipate it, and loop it into his body to heat up the deep cold infesting his muscles. It took what felt like his last reserves of power, but the crackling lightning tendrils wandered his skin leaving only subtle burn marks in their path, devoid of the satisfaction of burning flesh the Dark Jedi sought. Instead, the icy blood in Bernard's robes began to gradually pool and flow through the fabric again. His hair settled from its frozen stiffness, and the blood crystals fixing his hands to his face melted away enough for him to break them free, and he withdrew them, slowly.

All that remained of his right eye was a still-frozen but melting mess of blood covering skin and muscle. His hands shook, even as the lightning breathed warmth into them. They'd become pale, and had gone icy blue at his fingertips. His lips had turned a sickly purple-blue, bringing the only contrast to the blood-red now trickling down his pallid face.

Abruptly, the lightning stopped. Rhis had deduced the scheme, and refused to play into the Jedi's game.

But the lightning's echoes lingered, coursing through the now long faded gold scars running over most of Bernard's body. Enough warmth coursed through his limbs to feel stinging needles bite into his nerves, awoken by the Dark Jedi's lightning. The scars formed a wound that would never truly go away.

Bernard risked a glance back, toward Kyric.

Even as the scars burned, he could feel feeling return to him again. A determination, a clarity, that had been lost when Prowler had taken his eye. All those years ago, when Bernard had nearly died that first time he'd been struck by lightning, it had been Kyric's father, Ryv, who'd carried his injured friend through a warzone and to safety. Had he not done it, Bernard would have succumbed to those wounds and died a painful, disgraceful death at the hands of a traitor.

Now Ryv's son stood at Bernard's back. The kid's injuries were severe. He'd stood alone, a mere Padawan against a fully fledged Dark Jedi who'd killed dozens, if not hundreds of trained Force Users more powerful than one barely-trained Padawan. By all accounts, the kid's survival had been miraculous.

Bernard felt his heart beat deep in his chest. Faded, and strained. Fatigue was settling into his bones as feeling returned to his limbs. He was done for. Even two against one, the odds were still stacked heavily in Rhis' favour. If Bernard fell, Kyric would have to carry all the burden of defeating Rhis on his own. Demoralized by the death of a comrade and heavily injured, the Padawan stood no chance.

Bernard whispered into the wind.

I'm not letting him die here. We're even now, fool.

Summoning what reserves he still possessed, Bernard took hold of Kyric's form through the Force.

"You're a good kid. Make me proud."

Bernard pushed the Padawan away with every remaining fiber of strength he could muster. He wanted the kid off the platform and away from here. To get him someplace safer, someplace where he wouldn't be staring down the crimson blade of a Jedi Killer.

Bernard smiled faintly. A small victory amidst grueling, disgraceful failure. He turned back to Rhis, smile fading, as he slipped the last stimpack from his pouch. He struck his thigh with it, feeling the needle pierce, but none of the relief follow. The bacta didn't rush into his system, still too frozen to be liquid enough to flow through the injector. His smile faded away.

He heaved through the lingering pain, dropping the stimpack. No stim would save him from facing Rhis as he was, battered and broken and ambushed twice; a miserable failure of a Jedi. He'd managed to save one singular life, but he'd failed every other duty that bound him to the Light. He'd been too weak. Come here too unprepared, and when the galaxy needed him, he'd crumbled under the pressure applied by a cowardly traitor and a malicious cloud of gas.

You're pathetic, he thought to himself.

Bernard spat out blood, dragging his body into a stance roughly resembling a Teräs Käsi opening. His hands were still numb from the cold, but still he curled them into bloodied fists. His right arm barely rose above his waistline.

The disgrace of losing his eye to a collection of gas stung almost as bitterly as the dull, throbbing pain that pounded the right side of his skull. His pride had been shattered and now laid at his feet, surrounded by his own crystallized blood.

"Let's finish this, Fisto," Bernard stared the traitor down.

"One of us dies today."

 

[Sazo Vass]

Objective: Evacuate the poor souls forgotten in the lower levels of Coruscant
Allies: Ran Serys
Equipment: Talionis


This is Sazo Vass, right now:

You feel powerful. Driven by wrath. Driven by the grief of a widow, cradling the cooling body of her husband, in a world gone mad. Driven to wipe the smirk off the fact of the Besalisk. Most of all, you feel empowered by simply...cutting loose. Giving in to base emotions. Letting go.

The clan would never approve of this- for to concede to negative emotions is to concede to Bogan. The Jedi say that anger, fear, hatred...paths to the Dark Side. But Talion Vass- the ancestor spirit bonded to Talionis- was a Jedi Lord. You usually ignore him, because he's frankly a brute, product of the Gulag Era. But today? You're open to listening. He can't control you- he's little more than a sentient Holocron- but he can peer into soul, see your potential, and guide you.

And frankly, brute Jedi Lord be damned, he's in agreement with you.

You enjoy the look of the Besalisk's face, the dawning realization that the baby Jedi is more than what meets the eye. A look confirmed when one of his hands comes off at the wrist. His howls are cut short when you brain him with your blade. You stalk him, and with one hand, you lift him aloft by the neck. You stare into his eyes- and you realize, belatedly, your eyes are emerald green- the color of Talionis. You snarl, tightening your grip, when you hear Master Ran cry out:
​

"Don't let your rage control you, Sazo!" Ran tried to probe through Sazo's feelings. "Calm your mind and give in to the force. Let it guide your actions, as Jedi to blade. Be its tool and vessel. Bring balance to the force and yourself." She hoped she could get through to her padawan, before Sazo did something she'd regret.

With a gasp, you drop the whimpering Besalisk, realizing what you were about to do. Your eyes flicker back to normal- and tears fill them, as you respond to Master Ran, without looking away from the pathetic being sprawled before you. "That man had a wife- had a child. He killed him...for nothing. They deserve justice." As you talk, you feel your anger rising, your hand tightening on Talionis.


​

​

 

[Creuat]

B L A C K G U A R D
CORUSCANT | GALACTIC SENATE
Darth Solipsis | Auteme | Kyric | Veli'ae Ashai | Bernard | Sahar | Thalia Senn | Damien Dooku

POWER​

Bernard was not a factor he considered, already in conclusion the Jedi was beat from his injuries. His former compatriot pushed aside Kyric to have the wrath of Creuat’s power torment him instead. Unfortunately, the Jedi did not writhe in agony from Creuat’s malice and stood upright, redirecting the lightning throughout his body. Even if the Dark Jedi intensified his attack it somehow only made the Arkanian stronger. He discontinued his efforts, figuring out a new tactic to kill Bernard and capture Kyric.

Until suddenly the Arkanian did something bold and unexpected.

“No!” the sound of fury could be heard from his voice when the elder Jedi of the two threw Kyric away from this fight; far away to escape to safety from Creuat’s grasp. It should’ve been an easy, simple task to bring the boy before the Emperor. He could tell the Jed Lord was beaten and stood no chance of resisting from capture. Now his plans were foiled and all he was left with was this broken Jedi.

Fisto.

Again, he snarled with a low growl to hear that name. It only sparked hatred within his heart to have that name uttered before him. A Jedi with power which was overshadowed by the testament of true power by Creuat’s sombra. A Jedi with no purpose, but as Creuat he was blessed as the Emperor’s Chosen to fulfill the grand designs of the Emperor and his Empire.

What did Bernard represent? Stagnation. An order that obeys the whims of the corrupt bureaucracy. An order that accepted spawns of evil, betraying the very code they swore to. Deceits and corruption ran deep among Ashla.

“Yes…Bernard,” pronouncing his name with intent at each syllable. “Soon Coruscant will behold the future and it will spread by its roads.”

“And you shall be dead.”

His hands lit aflame, prepared to fight unarmed against his old friend. The Nautolan would strike first, not allowing to be dictated by Bernard. He leapt forward to punch at the Jedi’s midsection only to punch again at his liver. He wanted to burn the Jedi and make him squirm from pain.

 

[Kyric]

The Good, the Bad, and the Beautiful
The Tengu of Ashina
Set Your Heart Ablaze
Senate District | Galactic City | Coruscant

​

Prowler's lightning arched out from his gaseous form toward Kyric. He felt the danger like a knife in the back, so he raised his good hand and aimed to catch the crackling orb of power. The malignant energy crashed against him with enough force to send the kiffar sliding across the debris-strewn, uneven surface of the Eclipse III-Prototype. He felt the muscles within his left arm tighten, then spasm, as Prowler's strength on a good day outclassed that of the young Jedi.

Kyric struggled to absorb the power into himself and cleanse the inherent corruption found within the Dark Side. Blue-white electricity began to shift and change into an emerald color, but it was happening too slowly. Rather than try to redirect it away from him to another enemy, the kiffar struggled to imbue his blade with the effects of Prowler's attack.

Seeing Creuat begin his approach anew, Kyric knew that plan wouldn't do it either. He searched for Bernard in the hope the Arkanian had found his footing. Unfortunately, the Sword remained sheathed in a thick layer of frost.

"Creuat!" Prowler's voice howled across the deck.

Kyric turned expecting to find the assassin's translucent appendage driven into his left eye next.

Instead, the Jedi Knight watched the last bit of ice crawl over the specter and completely nullify the effects of the lightning just as Creuat began his mental assault again.

"Your efforts are futile, Kyric. You will only find pain and sorrow, and your friends will suffer because of you. When I return to my Master's side, we will find your cousins and that mysterious woman and they will serve the Emperor–or die."

Darkness intermingled with the nautolan's words. Kyric struggled to block out the intentions behind them. His body and mind had been worn to near their breaking point, and he knew the reality of what defeat meant here.

Capture. Torture. Betrayal.

Kyric would know no peace within the halls of the Dark Lord's fortress. His will would be broken, his dreams shattered, and his sword turned against the very cause he swore himself. Death would be a better outcome than servitude to Darth Solipsis.

Could the boy turn his blade on himself?

"Know that the way of Ashina is to embrace death."

Kyric tightened his grip on Resolute. The tattered jacket that scarcely clung to the kiffar's battered frame oozed with a life's worth of memories that told tales of bravery, strength, and honor in the face of unthinkable horror. He couldn't throw it all away so callously. Not after everything his family lost to put him there, in front of Creuat, to save Kyric's mother.

Lightning ripped from Creuat's fingertips and rocketed towards Kyric. The boy lifted his sword in a desperate bid to funnel the energy down its length, but a specter of white death beat him to the punch.

"You're a good kid. Make me proud."

Kyric felt a metaphysical hold wrap around his body and lift him from the ship. "No!" He howled. "Bernard! Please!" The kiffar practically begged even as he careened toward the edge of the half-constructed, and heavily bombarded, battleship. He made contact with the scorched surface just in time to thrash about wildly for some kind of handhold before going overboard into a free fall. His body rag-dolled awkwardly until the Jedi managed to right himself and look back the way he came.

Strangely, Kyric saw not the half-constructed star destroyer, but a shattered and broken window frame. He fell further and further away even as the Dark Jedi, Sinestra, poked her head out to perhaps see the fruits of her wicked labor.

It was at that moment the kiffar realized two things about his current predicament.

One, Kyric was not Kyric. The fact both of his eyes functioned and he had a pair of lumps on his chest made him think he was viewing the world through another's gaze, likely a Jedi Master given the nature of their defeat.

Two, Sinestra looked strikingly familiar. He couldn't really place how or why given the rapid descent made finer details harder to pick out from her face, but it felt as if he had personally known the woman. Part of the boy wanted to seek out the Malign Seer who so carefully crafted scheme after scheme to ensure her emperor's will be done. Another part of him knew facing another of Solipsis' champions anytime soon would be suicide.

Warmth blossomed from a pouch latched to Kyric's Jedi Utility Belt. He found himself pulled back to his body where he was still plummeting toward certain death through the remnants of the Senate District. With no other options, plan, or escape route in sight, he dug out the tiny stone gifted to him by none other than Romi Jade and clutched it tight against his chest. He closed his eye and focused on the latent capabilities within the item.

What's the plan here? Scion inquired with more patience than Kyric expected.

We Center and Fold space.

Kyric focused again on the stone in a vain attempt to project himself back on the ship. He imagined the threads that bound him to the likes of Bernard and Auteme... and nothing happened. Releasing a faint snarl, he envisioned Creuat, the source of all his pain and anguish on the day. Again. Nothing.

And then from out in the aether, carried by psionic winds transcending both space and time, Kyric heard her.

'He can do it.'

Sol?

What felt like an iron hand gripped Kyric's stomach and pulled. He felt himself ripped across space-time before his body slammed into the ground in the middle of some great storm. The kiffar tried to sit up, but the force of the blast ripping through the streets kept him flat on the ground. That continued for a few more seconds, then he climbed weakly to his feet and moved toward the sound of a crying woman within the madness. Her sobs quickly became choked from the thick cloud of dust wreathed around them.

"Hello!" Kyric called through bloodstained lips. Dust coated the inside of his mouth in answer, so he spat with the wind to avoid taking a faceful of bloody dirt. He closed his eye and searched the empyrean for the crying woman's presence.

Finding Sol beneath her was definitely a surprise.

Kyric stumbled toward them both and dropped down to a knee. "Well if it ain't the two bravest women I know." His lips split into a big, toothy grin, even in the face of the atrocities all around them. He looked like he could keel over at any minute and pass out, but his intentions were clear. "Y'all wouldn't mind if I lend a hand, would ye? I imagine a spare would do us both some good, huh?"

​

They were getting out of there.

Together.

​

The Good: Auteme | Bernard | Damien Dooku | Thalia Senn
The Bad: Creuat | Darth Solipsis | Veli'ae Ashai | Sahar | Sinestra
The Beautiful: Halsia Hewitt | Romi Jade | Sol Dara

 

[Ran Serys]

Objective: Evacuate the poor souls forgotten in the lower levels of Coruscant
Allies: Sazo Vass​

The Hutt laughed and so did their men. “Take Justice then, Jedi. Kill the besalisk. He isn’t worth the salary I pay him.” The hutt switched to basic. She guffawed harder and, like a pathetic echo, so did her men. The action had stopped. Everybody watched. Something about the moment’s intensity froze the feet of civilians, gangsters, and crewmen. The only thing that didn’t stop were the small sobs of the dead man’s wife and child.

Ran stepped forward and toward Sazo. “They do, Sazo. They deserve justice in that we are agreed. But you are not justice. You are not a judge, jury, or executioner. You are a protector. You are a Jedi.” Ran continued closer. “All life is sacred.” The besalisk whimpered as Ran closed the gap. She looked down at his missing appendages and the swords he dropped at his sides. She kicked them out of his reach. “Even his.” Ran let out a deep breath and looked into Sazo’s eyes. She couldn’t remember them being so green.

“It is not justice to strike him down. It is tyranny and it’ll give you nothing better than it gave him.” Ran took a step back. She could use all the words in the world to tell Sazo killing the besalisk was wrong, but the young Jedi had to make that decision for herself. Ran knew the consequences of Sazo’s next action would cause a ripple through the force. A ripple with far reaching effects.

“Do it! Kill him!” The Hutt’s men goaded in all different variations and in all different languages. "The Master Jedi is right. Don't do it." Cried one of the civilians, a witchy and graying woman, with an echo of agreement from a few others. Ran stayed silent. She didn’t watch. Ran would trust Sazo to do the right thing until she didn’t. Ran picked up the husband's body and planted it on the ship. The widowed woman and her child followed sobbing.

“These two are it. Get the others off the ramp and get these people to safety. The Beaufont Danger lands next.” Ran whispered to and ordered one of the crewmen. The man hesitantly took his attention away from Sazo and the besalisk. He turned to alert the captain of take off.

Ran already failed her personal mission, but she was foolish to believe she could get the operation done with no casualties. If she wanted everyone's safety. She'd have to parley with the Hutt.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

SENATE BUILDING // CORUSCANT
Ariana Du Couteau

Coruscant was being torn apart. Its skies were filled with battlecruisers and starfighters, most spewing flames as they battled to the bitter end. The ground shook as artillery strikes pounded enemy positions and toppled skyscrapers. The Senate building was collapsing as the enormous Eclipse III rose from its hiding place beneath the surface. Smoke rose from the nearby New Jedi Temple as the Sith raised the Jedi’s scared halls.

And amid the chaos, Aerarii Tithe could only laugh.

“I apologise, my dear. But for a moment there I could have sworn you suggested we leap and employ your father's exquisite capes as makeshift parachutes.” The aged Aargauun chuckled. He needed to get his hearing checked.

What he did not hear was Ariana correcting him. Slowly, he turned to the Empress Tetan senator, realisation dawning on him that she was deadly serious.

“You can't possibly be serious. I say, did you perhaps bump your head during our egress? Because you seem to have misplaced your fundamental understanding of physics. Why, the odds of this actually succeeding are…”

The Senate building shook violently, almost knocking Tithe off his feet. He watched in horror as one of the bureaucratic annexes disappeared beneath Coruscant’s surface. While the odds of Ariana’s plan succeeding were tiny, there was zero chance of surviving the complete collapse of the Senate building, which was only minutes away.

Clasping the ornate cape tightly, Tithe did his best to follow Ariana’s lead and arrange it so it would catch the wind. He was putting a lot of faith in her father's tailors. Ariana jumped from the ruins of the Senate building, and a few seconds later, Tithe jumped after her, closing his eyes and giving an oddly effeminate scream.

The Imperial Treasurer’s stomach dropped as he plunged toward the fiery surface of Coruscant. And yet, to his surprise, his descent began to slow. Whether through the cape catching a rising thermal or Ariana’s mastery of the Force, Tithe found himself floating toward his shuttle. Locked on to his comlink, the flashy star yacht made some minor adjustments, catching first Ariana and then Tithe on its extended boarding ramp.

Tithe grabbed onto a nearby handrail as the shuttle’s autonav began to slowly pull away to safety. He now had an unobstructed view of the destruction wrought on the Senate building. The once shining beacon of Alliance democracy - and during Tithe’s tenure, once shining beacon of corruption - had been torn in half by the launch of the Eclipse III, its familiar silhouette unrecognisable.

“Ah, now that is what I would call a tax write-off if ever I’ve seen one.”

Fiduciary climbed toward orbit, steering clear of the ferocious space battle over Coruscant and soon jumped to hyperspace, whisking Tithe and Ariana to safety.

 

[Castor E-196]

GOOD_SOLDIERS_FOLLOW_ORDERS

Master Sergeant Castor E-196
SpecNav Commando Group Three; Attached to Task Force Vader, aboard the INV Predator falling through Coruscant's atmosphere towards the Eclipse III​

Objective: Repel Boarders Survive, Reorient
Tags:
GA enemies Tulan Kor Thirdas Heavenshield Reima Vitalis

Castor slow-walked through the falling ship- mag-locks on maximum. The descent through the atmosphere was complete, but now the Commando needed to get through the last step: reaching the ground without turning into a red mist. For that, he needed propulsion.

For the umpteenth time, he was grateful for the RAMPART exoskeleton's many failsafes, redundancies and features: the auto-correcting stabiliser stopped Castor from shaking his eyes out of his skull from the vibration of the falling debris, and the many layers of thermal and radiation protection allowed him to move through areas of the ship that would have killed unshielded crew. Not to mention the powered suit allowing him to lift his limbs at all in the midst of steep deceleration (and thus apparent gravity) through the atmosphere.

His suit's computer had sliced through what was left of the ship's database. By a miracle, this ship had troop transport capability and had not deposited its ancillary infantry equipment when sent into space to fight the Dark Imperial fleet. Which meant jetpacks. Banged-up and damaged, sure, but still jetpacks. Sensors in his helmet detected ion trails, and following it, he had been able to jury-rig a refill of the ion thrusters on his suit. Something was broken and the tanks were leaking, and they did little in atmosphere, but every bit of lift was crucial.

Castor stumbled past the corridor indicated on his map and saw it: off to the left, across from a large gash in the hull where the cityscape of Coruscant was growing ominously closer, there was the armory.

The circumstances focused his mind- the commando stepped forward, step by step, eyes scanning the area, making sure there was no structural deficit that would send this part of the ship's debris falling apart if he stood there. After a minute that lasted a lifetime, he made it to the door. With the piece of ship he was on falling at terminal velocity, air whipped past his armour as he forced the door open. Turbulence spilled into the armory as he squeezed into the crack in the door, and he ducked as something sharp whisked past his head out the door. Inside, Castor's eyes widened as he found something better than a jetpack: a cargo-lifter repulsorlift pallet. If he strapped himself on well enough, he could control the float down to the surface.

Quickly, Castor pushed the armory door fully open and locked his armour's pads onto the pallet. Grabbing a pole-pipe, he pushed himself and the pallet out the door, towards the hole in the hull. Outside, the cityscape of Corsuscant was bathed in smoke and dust. And something else.

Is that a... Imperial Battlecruiser?

His eyes were not deceiving him. Somehow, fate had decided Castor should have a landing spot higher up and closer to his current position. And one that seemed to be on his side.

Something rocked the half-ship: the hunk of debris he was ensconed in would not survive for longer as anti-air batteries automatically began to break it up from the ground. Castor took a deep breath- and pushed, switching the repulsorlift pallet on.

He tumbled wildly, strapped onto the pallet. His adrenal glands fired automatically, and time seemed to slow. His improved ocular implants and supercondcutive nerve fibers gave him enhanced speed and control despite the tumbling, and his hands worked across the pallet's controls rapidly, forcing it to do what it was not meant to- fall out of a starship and right itself.

And right itself it did, as Castor strained, shifting his weight to and fro, feeling the balance of his unlikely magic carpet shift in response and begin to stabilise in the air as it too began to reach terminal velocity. He could feel something crack- not his bones, for even his bones were laminated in ceramic. No, the pallet was beginning to crack under the weight of air resistance.

Just a few seconds more... He fell straight for the Eclipse III, his muscles still straining and his fingers hammering the controls to keep it stable.

Tulan was the last to touch down, and unhooked their TOW line from the ship. He waved off the gunship, as the Eclipse's many defense turrets, overwhelmed with the fighting somewhat, began to target her.

Tulan walked over to Thirdas, making sure to keep himself steady on the ship. The wind of the city was already picking up, and if the ship went much higher, the two of them wouldn't have a chance of holding on. He put a hand on his shoulder, speaking loudly, his voice magnified by his helmet.

"Thirdas! Get your team to find an access hatch and get us an opening!"

An Alliance gunship?!

His adrenal glands pumped again, and instinct took over. Castor unhooked himself and let fly, falling the last few metres onto the hull of the Battlecruiser with a loud THUNK, his bones and enhanced muscles absorbing the impact with nary but a dull ache. The Pallet fell towards the Alliance soldiers. Before he even knew it, his Automatic Combat Shotgun was out, firing at Tulan Kor and Thirdas Heavenshield

 

[Bernard]

Coruscant, Senate Building
Ruins of the Senate Building, atop the Eclipse III
---

[ WISDOM OF RAGE ]​

Fellow actors on stage: Creuat

// Veli'ae Ashai // // Kyric //​

Related to the storyline: Auteme Darth Solipsis as well as Sahar Thalia Senn

SWORD OF THE JEDI

“Yes…Bernard,” pronouncing his name with intent at each syllable. “Soon Coruscant will behold the future and it will spread by its roads.”

Bernard as locked the Nautolan's night-black eyes with his own, an Arkanian's pure white. Burning hatred met bitter-freezing contempt. Through the frigid tundra around them, their wills radiated with fury only two lifetimes diametrically opposed to each other in every fiber of their conviction could. There was no doubt left in their minds, no hesitation, and no uncertainty.

One of them would die here, today.

“And you shall be dead.”

"We'll see," Bernard snapped.

Rhis fists lit ablaze, the purest manifestation of his ferocity. He advanced, an all-consuming fire of hatred, and struck out with blinding speed.

Bernard swept his left foot back and around, bringing his right side to face his foe in an attempt to dodge.

Too late.

Rhis' fist dug itself into the muscles of Bernard's latissmius dorsi. The fire ripped through robes, and began to scorch the skin beneath. Bernard growled through the pain.

The follow up strike came. Rhis' fist cut a blazing path through the air, directly for Bernard's core.

As the blazing fire of Rhis' killing blow came toward Bernard, he shot his good hand forward to deflect the blow by a hair's breadth past his body and tried to seize his foes' wrist. At that same moment, he used what feeling he still had in his broken right arm to intertwine it with Rhis' other arm, the one still burning through Bernard's side.

Rhis held the edge in their fight. Bernard's arm had been shattered early in the fight. His body had been reduced to a bleeding, pallid mess of stiff muscles and frozen blood. The fire was eating away at his side, digging through muscle towards bone. But the Arkanian was not out yet. He still held one desperate plan in reserve.

His intent was to immobilize Rhis by seizing both arm and wrist. While the Nautolan brought the fire of his rage against Bernard, the Jedi would aim to slow Rhis' very heart to a standstill, as a snake might squeeze the life from its prey. If he succeeded in locking down his foe's arms, their battle would turn to one of wills rather than brute strength.

Rhis' burning fists of hatred would be measured against Bernard's cold touch of death.

Whoever succumbed to the others' power would find death and be lost to history. The other would stand as the victor.

 

[Creuat]

B L A C K G U A R D
CORUSCANT | GALACTIC SENATE
Darth Solipsis | Auteme | Kyric | Bernard | Veli'ae Ashai | Sahar | Thalia Senn | Damien Dooku

POWER​

Fire caught on Bernard’s robes and skin, after he punched the lower lats of the Arkanian. The dark fire hungered, spreading out to consume Bernard until nothing remained. The Dark Jedi sought to expedite the Jedi’s doom with his second punch, but alas it was parried and his wrist caught and soon his other arm was intertwined with Bernard’s. His hand still free and reached to touch the Jedi’s exposed arm, let the fire manifested from his fury and hate smolder him until he was a carcass.

But then something occurred.

His grin faded as pain took a hold of him, gasping in shock and agony when he felt one of his hearts suspended. Everything felt like a trance, he could not perceive well what was going on except for Bernard as the two grappled with each other. This was a power he could never achieve or comprehend.

This power was devastating, but one key factor was it held only a heart at Bernard’s touch. Creuat possessed more than just one heart, a reason why he had more stamina in battle and why he was formidable against his enemies. Should his biology only permit one single heart, then there was no question he would be incapacitated seconds after Bernard’s cold touch.

He was going to see the end through all of this.

His fury intensified and the fire magnified at his command. Creuat’s hands gripped firmly at the Jedi’s arm, not wanting to let go as his fiery nails dug deep within the skin. He would demonstrate to Bernard as he did to Kyric their strength would always fall in submission to the Dark Side.

He let out a roar, an unnatural roar belonging to a dark entity.

 

[Thalia Senn]

Sahar

She couldn't see in the dark. All she heard was the terrible rumble as Coruscant's cityscape crumbled around them. She could feel the building falling, the lives lost through the Force. Thousands, millions, as the vessel she'd only caught a glimpse of rose from beneath the senate hall like some salt-fly larvae finally breaching the skin of an errey. It was dizzying. The dark. She began to panic. Thalia could hear Tempest's thunderous laugh in her ears, could see the dim glow of a red lightsaber ahead of her. She had to fight, she had to-

A white light lit up the collapsed hall, clearing her mind. One of the senate guards had picked it up and was using it for light to see by. The debris had knocked his helm off and with the light of her blade, he found it. Replacing the helmet and activating the visor lamp, he deactivated the blade and handed it to Thalia.

"Thank you," she said. She turned to face the phantom of Tempest, which cleared now revealed a battered Sahar holding her orange bladed weapon. Thalia activated her silver blade once more, the snap-hiss illuminating her surroundings enough for her to spot her second saber. She snatched it up with the Force, its green blade activating as it spun through the air to her palm.

"Search for any survivors. I saw a Tantara corvette on one of the landing pads. See if you can rally them there and ask the captain for passage."

"But Jedi Senn-"

"Do not argue with me," she said softly, "and do what I ask." The man stood there for a moment, his black visor not nearly enough to hide his warring emotions from her. He nodded and trotted off, helping his fellow guardsman from the rubble before picking through the broken hall. Once they left, the hallway lurched again, causing her to stumble to her left. She still couldn't see, doubted she ever would again from that eye.

"I gave you a chance to walk away when I threw you from the path of that rubble," Thalia shouted. "Why are you still here? You've won, haven't you?" Durasteel beams groaned and snapped, causing the hallway to lurch again. In the distance, she heard alarms blaring. The occasional spark sputtered between the two of them, lighting up the dark expanse with hissing plasma and incandescent ash.

"You don't have to go back to him," Thalia said. "He isn't Fel, he won't bring back your Empire. Only death and hatred lie in his path and the path of all that follow him." She deactivated her green saber and slid it into her chest holster. "I know." She gripped her hand into a tight fist, remembering. Then she offered her hand to Sahar, offered her a way to cross that black expanse, that dark place all of his promises led.

"I know the Knights and the Jedi didn't always see eye to eye, but we can help you Sahar. I know we can."

​

​

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Auteme | Kyric | Damien Dooku
Darth Solipsis

Dracken woke in the medical bay, a cold kolto patch on his forehead. He gasped, sitting up, the sound of alarms filling his ears. His two darksabers stirred, shifting to look at their charge. A familiar Halcyon commando stood from her chair, her greying hair still tied back into a military bun.

"Well, well, well. The old man's finally up from his nap."

Dracken grimaced.

"Lora," he grunted, "I didn't see you on the ship's crew list."

"You should know by now that we never are." The two clasped forearms and she helped him up out of his gurney. "What, 'Thanks for saving my ass from falling out the cargo hold'?"

"How bad is it?" Dracken asked as they walked down the hall leading towards the bridge. The alarm was blaring and he could tell from the odd way the ship was tilted that they weren't in the air.

"The ship's repulsors and some quick flying by the pilot saved the ship from a catastrophic crash," Lora said, "but we're grounded in the lower levels. Can't see the ass end of a bantha from here. Our scopes picked up an enormous ship, probably at least battlecruiser-class, where the senate building used to be." Used to be?

"The Chancellor was in there, we have to go back." Lora turned on him and shoved an armored finger in his chest.

"Our mission is to protect you. The brass could give kark all about Alliance leadership right now." She backed off when one of the Darksabers took a step forward. "Besides, our engines are shot. Will take at least an hour before we're airborne. And there's this." Draken's eyes widened as they passed one of the storage rooms. It was packed wall to wall with refugees. Some looked dressed for the senate offices, others were the grimy sort you found on the lower levels of Coruscant. There was a blue-clad Senate guard in the room, ordering people about.

"When did that happen?"

"Not long after, those Moonchildren and stormtroopers that had been sent into the lower levels almost overran us."

Dracken nodded. An hour. He looked up and pinched his eyes shut. Pressing a finger to his new ear com he began barking orders.

"Engineering. I'm gonna need that engine up in twenty. Get your techs down to the storage units. Find anyone with any sort of engineering background. The slums have millions of swoop techs. Get them up there to help your team. I need the Swordbreaker in the sky YESTERDAY." Dracken turned to look up at the taller Halcyon commando, a shining resolve behind his grey eyes.

"I AM the Confederation brass. The Defense Council can burn salt for all I care." Dracken tapped his shoulder pauldron, his symbol of office, "You see this Lora? I am Supreme Commander of all Confederation forces, that includes Halcyon Operations. If the spooks in Naval Intelligence and CorSec have a problem, they can take it up with my advisors. Today? We are here for the Alliance."

Lora smirked.

"There's that Corellian rocket fuel they're always talking about." She saluted. "I'll take my team and scout the area, make sure we have no more surprises."

"Your team?"

"I told you, we aren't on the manifest."

 

[Tulan Kor]

​

With: GADF Soldiers l Thirdas Heavenshield l Reima Vitalis
Fighting: DE Troops l Castor E-196
Objective: CUT INSIDE! FIGHT THIS GUY!


As Thirdas and his team were prepping to get inside, they started taking fire-

And even above the noise and confusion of the battlefield, he heard gunshots. And looking over, he saw the muzzle flash, pushing one of the Commandos out of the way just before the impact. In doing so, his rifle clattered to the ground, and slid on the ship, far out of Tulan's reach. Tulan turned his head to the threat-

One of the biggest, meanest, ugliest sons of bitches he ever saw. But his armor was like, but black and with red. He was taller, bigger, and he was armed and Tulan wasn't. But the Elite Trooper, with all his gadgets, gizmos, and whatever else he had, he didn't have one thing going for him:

Tulan was Tulan Kor. That man wasn't.

He turned to Thirdas, pointing at the access hatch they located.

"Get over there, and get in this ship! I'll deal with him!"

Thirdas needed to get inside. No matter what. Tulan turned his head- and charged straight at the man as he went to reload. He crossed the distance quickly, his Katarn-class armor giving him ample strength and speed when he needed it to. The shotgun came up- quick.

Really quick.

Tulan brought down his palm, the shot going wide and into the hull of the ship. He used his other palm to strike the weapon in the receiver, knocking it out of the hands of the Trooper. Before he could counter, the Trooper brought his foot against Tulan's chest, sending him tumbling back, and the shotgun went wide- falling in the similar manner that Tulan's rifle did. Tulan sat up on his back, before standing up. He reached up to his left forearm, removing the Antarian Ranger combat knife from it's sheath, and twirled it in his hand.

"You die here, scumbag."

He amplified his voice, so the man would hear him.