Invasion Chapter Two: House of Cards | Long Live The Empire DE vs GA Coruscant

[Allyson Locke]

//: Jedi Temple, Greenhouse //:
//: Vorm //:

Allyson darted after firing the arrow at the creature, her every move a calculated survival dance. She understood the necessity of constant motion, aware that if the Corellian remained stationary, it would detect her. Allyson's agility was her shield, her speed a blur, a shadow that traversed the field with a sense of urgency.

Pain.

It echoed in her ears, driving deep in her mind like a nail. The Shadow flickered back into existence as she suddenly lost her concentration. Allyson felt her stomach twist and her muscles tighten as another surge of pain threatened to force her to pass out. She had to fight it; it would only make her an easy target if she collapsed. Forcing her mind to focus, the Jedi felt the surge of the Force once more, cruictorn helping ease the pain. Could the thing she attacked be the source of the dread in the air? It didn't look powerful in the Force; it reminded her of the creatures Taeli Raaf crafted to harass the Jedi. None of those were strong with the Force beyond the means of what kept them together.

No, this was something else. Someone else weaving the threads of darkness, desiring to suffocate the light. Allyson rolled her shoulders back, feeling her joints ache. Crucitorn was a talent that could have been performed better by the Corellian. The pain lingered, but it was enough for her to continue. Allyson raised her bow once more, focused on the enormous mass now focused on her.

There was a downside to using cruicitorn and Allyson would soon discover it. While she had been focused on the mental invasion, Vorm had figured out her location. An endless rain of glass showered above her location. Thin ribbons cut against her exposed skin and through the leather of her gear. Only the sudden burning she felt on her cheek made her pause. Blood dripped from the thin wounds, alerting her that more was happening. Quickly, she used the Force as a protective barrier and waited for an opening.

Her opponent didn't look smart, but he was resourceful. Allyson would have to keep that in mind. Solid intel that countered her thought of just staying away would keep her safe. The moment the glass finished falling, another arrow of light was fired, aiming once more toward the previous target. Hopefully, he would be distracted enough for her to move locations and draw closer so that she could hit him with something more substantial.

"Who are you people?" Despite her knowledge as a Jedi, Allyson was taken aback by the audacity of the Sith's attack on Coruscant. She had been embedded within the Empire, gathering intelligence, but nothing of this magnitude had crossed her path. Could this be the fabled Dark Empire? The Corellian dismissed the rumors of the Sith's resurgence, largely because Solipsis was believed to be dead.

Though she should have known better, a good Sith never stayed dead for long.

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Amani Serys | Eloise Dinn

​

"A blade through the chest and yet you stand," he looked to Eloise, "let it be known I have never thought your kind to be weak. But you are youths rallying against a power you do not fathom. The Sith'ari's return is doom upon mortal kind."

Vinaze raised his hands out once again, his emaciated, pale, gnarled fingers began crackling with the life of electricity, motley blue and purple and black, before arcs of dark lightning shot out at both women.

"Believe as you might that we can be stopped again! Perhaps you are right, but you must know that even if the Jedi stand, your precious Alliance will burn to ash and dust!"

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Equipment: Outfit | Lightsaber
Tag: Adeline Noctua Raphael Gallustrade

As much as Gatz wanted to come to his fellow man's defense, that simply wasn't an option when Adeline was bearing down on him. Every stroke of her lightsaber was faster than the previous, and it took all that Gatz had to keep up. If he'd been any other Padawan, or had trained under anyone else, he thought Adeline would have already been standing over a bisected corpse. An appropriate ending for someone battling a Sith Lord.

But everything he knew about the lightsaber, he'd learned from Valery Noble. And, for all her wicked strength, Adeline simply hadn't reached the level of intensity that the Sword of the Jedi often did just in their training sessions together. At least, not yet.

All that being said, Gatz was still relieved when Raph's blaster fire tore the Sith Vampire away from him. As disheartening as it was to see her simply stop the bolt with the palm of her hand, at least he'd been given a few short moments to breathe. The lightsaber was his only real skill, and Soresu came to him easier than anything ever had, but he was still fighting a bonafide Sith Knight, who'd been doing this far longer than he had.

"I smell something far sweeter than crimson, I can sense your fear... Even when it tries to hide behind moronic humor and a fragile smile."

"So is that a 'no' to a date—"

But Gatz didn't get to finish his joke, not when Adeline was digging into his mind. He was well suited to keeping people out, he had to be—he'd spent months in a near-permanent mind meld with Briana. But Adeline had done it suddenly, in the midst of the fight, and Gatz couldn't keep her out the way he normally might have been able to.

But he could direct her.

Afraid of her learning about those he cared for, Gatz instead attempted a tactic he'd heard of once: shielding himself with powerful emotion. He shut her out of the intimate details of his mind by slamming her with the feelings Jedi were meant to control. He threw his lust at her, comparable to a bus. He threw his anger at her, like a train. And he threw his fear at her, the equivalent of a star destroyer.

 

[Vorm]

Long Live the Empire

Fighting: Allyson Locke
At the Room of a Thousand Fountaints, Jedi Temple.
​

---

The terrorizer’s opponent was far more agile than he was, but the stream of shattered glass bought him enough time to get back on his feet. Assuming a combat stance, he looks around, having once again lost sight of his nimble opponent in the lush gardens.

Panting, focusing, scanning the area with sight and sense, he sees only dense foliage. He may appear a brute, but he’s one of the Emperor’s Dark Side Elite for a reason. His senses rip his attention to the right just in time to avoid an arrow by rolling to the side, taking cover behind a pile of earth and ceiling-fragments; the previous, cacophonous earthquake still shaking the very foundations of the Jedi Temple. Sitting behind the cover, he tears his only stim shot from his belt, and jabs himself in the thigh. He may be slower, but the Vorm ain’t playing fair. A woman’s voice is heard.

"Who are you people?"

His body flush with adrenaline, his senses filling the volume of the room, he quickly readies himself in a crouch, still behind cover, before answering. - I’ll tell it to your face, coward. - In a flash, he spins around the pile of debris and pounces in the direction his trained senses guide him, bursting through leaves and bushes, opening with a violent, horizontal slash.
​

---

Sinestra Ibaris Varanin Kaleb Sunwalker Amena Kader Malva'ikh Dralidok Sahar Creuat Stennis Fel Efret Farr Astri Elyse Romi Jade ​

 

[Selena Halcyon]

Coruscant: Temple Roof
Allies: Jedi I suppose
Enemies: Danika Leventis and any other Sith of course
Objective: Mess with the backline, Get to Rooftop

To no one's surprise the rooftop was also quite the battlefield. It offered plenty of places for transports to land, so it was also of little surprise that there was some Jedi presence on the rooftop. That comforted Selena just a tad, because seeing them fight was really the first she had seen of any Jedi. By the time she had arrived at the lower level, they were already being pushed back through the main halls. She intended to fight her way through this gaggle of enemies and venture into the temple itself.

At least, that was the direction her initial movements took her. Then the strangest thing happened. Bodies began to rise, and once more join the fight. That was something that Selena could simply not abide. Letting the force guide her body, she moved quickly, severing limbs (after all, the dead can walk but if they cannot attack then they are simply a hindrance to their own). All the while, she opened up to the force, seeking the threads that were giving these bodies some semblance of being.

They were vibrant. The threads were thick on the bodies themselves, but they all coiled and moved back to their origin eventually. Selena's eyes remained closed as she pinpointed the one responsible for their rising. Up on one of the spires she could feel another figure there. A Jedi already matching her. Now, Selena liked to fight honorably. It was the right thing to do, hence... honor. However, making the dead rise and fight once more was far from such. Meeting dishonor with honor was often a losing battle at that. Hence, a paradox, much like that of tolerance, exists when it comes to fighting honorably. When met with dishonor, like intolerance, the only proper move was to meet it back and stop it from festering.

Selena pivoted on a dime and brought her lighsaber through the arm of one dead soldier and through the knuckles of a living. This pivot took her in the direction of the spire and Selena ran. Her blade still moved to cut, deflect and sever, but they were not the focus. It was moving towards the spire. Access paths existed that she could take then ascend to pair with the other Jedi there.

Her blade rebounded, and Selena was forced to stop ever so slightly in her movement. A phrik weapon pointed towards her from one of the figures that had suddenly appeared on the battlefield. It wore a mask. Hideous thing. Perhaps something inspired by nightmares of some distant culture. Not that Selena cared truly. A few more moved towards her. Selena had a feeling that tangling for an extended period of time with this particular batch would not be pleasant.

So, she did not intend to! Pulling the force within her, she ran. Quicker than any human had any business doing, especially one as old as she was. The bone legionnaires attacked at her, but she was a blur. No need to waste time on such things. She hit one of the access panels with an old grandmaster code from her tenure that she doubted anyone would have thought to remove and went through the door before slamming it shut. She took only long enough to punch the same code in to lock it before she began climbing the stairs.

Selena was coming.

 

[Makko Vyres]

TEMPLE

SHIELD | ARMOR | LIGHTSABER | DRONES | SHIP | PISTOL​

"Look at you, got some fangs after all. Not very good for a Jedi, mm?"

"Well...you caught me on a bad day," Makko grunted.

There was not a hint of apology in his tone. Their sabers hissed as Makko tried to fight for position. His preference was to keep as close as possible to the sith.

Forcing the wraith to parry was closer than he had come to landing a blow than their previous encounter. There was no time to take any solace in that.

The bond to Cora was resistant to his attempts to reach down it. All he could feel was an echo of her pain.

Makko snapped his blade upwards. A quarter of a step forwards brought their centers of balance eneven closer. Their blades broke contact, showering them in a myriad of coloured sparks. His blade hummed though the air as he swept it down, aiming for the Wraith's nearest leg.

 

[Romi Jade]

JEDI TEMPLE, COUNCIL CHAMBER

The chamber crackled with dark energy, the fierce duel between Romi Jade and Sinestra reaching its terrifying climax. The shattered window let in the howling wind, mixing with the distant sounds of destruction. As Romi closed in for what she hoped would be the final blow, lightning blasted from Sinestra's hands, a violent storm of raw dark side power.

Romi had only a heartbeat to react. She slipped deeper into Vaapad, her lightsaber angled to catch the forking arcs of dazzling hatred. The lightning met her blade, turning it into a conduit of unimaginable power. The energy surged through her, but Vaapad, more than a fighting style, was a state of mind. It allowed Romi to channel the darkness without being consumed by it. The circuit completed itself, and the lightning arced back toward Sinestra, but in her weakened state, it was damaging to them both.

"Halsia!" Romi shouted, using Sinestra's real name, her voice echoing through the chaos. "Stop this!"

But Sinestra was beyond reasoning. Her face contorted in a mask of rage and pain, she staggered, her strength wavering under the strain of her own attack. The dark side storm swirled around her, threatening to tear her apart.

In the heart of the Senate Building, the tremors grew violent. A fissure split the floor with a deafening crack, and dust and debris cascaded from the ceiling. Suddenly, with a catastrophic roar, the ground erupted. A massive vessel, a monstrous battlecruiser-sized Star Destroyer, burst through the Senate floor. Its dark, imposing hull forced its way through the layers of the ancient building, sending massive chunks of debris hurling into the air.

The devastation was immense. Permaglass windows shattered in a cascade of glimmering shards, walls crumbled into heaps of rubble, and support beams snapped under the immense pressure. The sound was deafening, a cacophony of destruction that echoed through the cityscape of Coruscant.

As the skyline became engulfed with dust and debris, the lightning ramped up, bending the fountain of Romi's blade back toward her. Her blade bent so close to her face that she was choking on ozone. "Halsia..." she said faintly, her voice breaking.

Staggering, Romi lurched back, cutting the back of her heel on a shard of glass protruding from the window seal. She screamed, a wounded animal noise, as her guard faltered. This was beyond Vaapad; her focus had split, and she had no strength left to fight against her own blade. The power of Sinestra's hate struck her full-on, the lightning now coursing through her lithe frame.

The dark lightning blasted away Romi's universe, sending the great Jedi Master out the shattered window. She fell for what seemed like forever, her body becoming engulfed in the large cloud of smoke and debris below. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as she disappeared into the chaos of Coruscant's apocalypse.

Standing at the edge, all one could see was the spot where Romi had vanished. As Romi looked a final look upon Sinestra, she hoped she would understand the hatred that had fueled her now would feel hollow eventually, leaving behind an emptiness that threatened to consume her.

The dark side had given her power, but at what cost?

In her quiet fall, that's what she hoped her former apprentice would come to learn. She cursed the Dark Seeress forever with the haunting realization of what she had become and what she had lost.

For Romi Jade, the fight was over.

---
Sinestra ​

 

[Raphael Gallustrade]

The trigger pulled, the blaster fired and Adeline had to remove her focus from trying to slice Gatz up. For a moment, he grinned. He was at least serving as a good support. Even without a lightsaber, he was more than willing to stand against her. He saw her eyes glance at him, though whether she was annoyed or whether she was proud, he couldn't quite tell. Yet... as he looked closer, he began to realize that, well, she'd caught the blaster bolts bare handed. His mind went to his studies, and then to Tutaminis. That's the only thing that it could've been. He'd not seen such a level of mastery of it, or at least no put into practice.

Then...she held out her hand at him, and he could practically feel it. Energy lanced out at him in the appearance of empowered Force Lightning, white tendrils of electricity flying at him. How much time did he have? Less than a second. His muscles flooded with the Force, and he moved several times, body evading much of the lightning, but at the last second, he held out his right arm, holding it with the left. Immediately his mind kicked to what she'd done, body readying to either absorb or, preferably, redirect said energy.

He didn't know quite what to expect, from it, and yet it struck his palm, clear and dead center. As it did, he felt the energy arc into and through his body, what felt like less than a second, was magnified to an experience of hours. Then, with a simple push, it went flying back, clearly off target, above where both her and Gatz stood, though clearly pointed more in her direction. As it did so, he was launched backwards, and sent rolling back by the sheer power in the technique she'd launched at him.

His right palm was completely numb and, when he looked at it with his vision refocusing, it was charred black, in the center. Alongside both the right and left arm were what seemed like charred veins, though they had patterns like electricity. Breathing, forcing himself to refocus, he called his pistol back to his hand and aimed again. She was toying with them, she had to be. There was too much difference between them, for her to be doing anything but... Still, he'd continue, if he had to. They had to stop her here. She was far too powerful to let roam the grounds free.

Gatz Derrevar Adeline Noctua

 

[Aris Noble]

"Not much at all."

Aris kept his gaze ahead, but the shuffling of cloth, the sound of metal, did hit his ears. He could hear much around them, too much to make sense of things at a distance, but with her right there? She was preparing for battle too, then. Could she hear the battle outside like he did? Master Jonyna was fighting from what he could tell. They needed to be quick to get to her side and help.

"What's the report you have?"

Spindle

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | The Jedi Temple
| Objective | Salt, Tides, Wrath

During the battle of Iziz, it was Jenn's timely arrival that helped turn the tide during the fight for control of the palace's courtyard- and her intervention that saved Aron Thress from a grisly fate. For all of her courage and might, however, it had only taken a moment for Darth Saevius to remind her of just how fragile she truly was, how her nature as an Ersansyr made her all but hopelessly vulnerable to one of the most well-known powers employed by those servants of the Dark Side.​

​

Feeling all but humiliated, the Mandalorian had trained tirelessly since then, driven to better herself as a warrior, to meet the next challenge with more preparedness. When her foe unleashed all of the animus he held onto her, the siren's opened her hands, letting her palms face outwards as a barrier formed around her - one of the only powers she had cared to learn, in truth. Alas, without the tutoring of a proper mentor, there was only so much this shield could absorb; her formidable will and fabulous potential could not substitute for the teachings of a Jedi... and so did the barrier strain under the hateful tendrils blasting her way, until it finally cracked.​

​

The reaction was instant, and visceral. As a creature borne of the tides, Jenn suffered all the more from the searing touch of that baleful lightning, her body seizing as she let out a cry of complete and utter agony. Collapsing onto the ground, the Mandalorian's were eyes forced wide open as she tried to regain some measure of control, desperate not to find herself in the same place she had once been in as a test subject to the Sith, a plaything to be altered, twisted, corrupted. It was a battle she could not win. Tears welled in her eyes, her earnest attempt to rise from the ground for naught. Her voice, blessed as it was thanks to her nature as Ersansyr, carried over even the din of battle as she screamed, her form enveloped in those hateful tendrils, meant only for destruction.​

​

And she would surely have died there, powerless before the fathomless hatred of the Sith, if not for the noble intervention of one whose dedication brought honor to the title she bore.​

​

Something shifted inside of her, awoken by the agony and powerlessness imposed unto her. There was the snapping of bones, as her fingers turned into claws - longer than they had ever been before, pushing well past what her gloves had been designed to handle. And when she finally mustered the will to stand once more, the Mandalorian removed her helm with a hiss of depressurization, revealing features twisted by anger... and so much more. Scales had begun to form around her eyes, spreading outwards with each passing moment; the glow of her eyes beckoned, and to peer into those twin pools of blue would only invite doom. Her lips opened, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, and then... came the inhuman howl.​

​

The Ersansyr moved with the speed and purpose granted by fury, rushing towards Jogon with murderous intent; once close enough, she unleashed the full might of her dark nature, her sonic scream focused entirely on him now. It was her turn to unleash hatred and spite unto him, to embrace what she had been made into; a Sithspawn, a creature whose very essence had been defiled, twisted, forever altered. The closer she drew to the Dashade, the more unbearable the sound, the more incapacitating. Sustained for long enough, it might very well prove lethal- but that was hardly enough for Jenn, oh no.​

​

The siren's claws, long and sharp as daggers, were far more furious in their assault than even the urumi had been. Each swipe was blinding fast, carried by a thirst for blood that eclipsed all other thoughts in the woman's mind.​

​

No longer did she fight to protect. Every fiber of her being wanted Jogon dead, and she wanted it to happen now.​

​

| Friendly | Corazona von Ascania
| Hostile | Jogon Isar ​

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

​

New Jedi Temple, Coruscant
With: NJO | GADF
Against: Open | DE
Sword | Shield | Armour

The Lion tore through the desecrators of the hallowed halls of the Jedi Temple, sparing no one in his just crusade against the practitioners of the Dark side and their legions. When the last Sith warrior fell by his hand, being bashed aside and run through, the handful of remaining stormtroopers were backed into a corner. The Knight towered over them, his winged helmet offering no solace or humanity. One of them opened fire, the terribly aimed shot hitting a pillar behind the intended target. Thurion stuck his sword in the floor of the temple and clenched his fist, stripping them of their weapons and leaving them clattering at his feet.

The unarmed men turned and ran, but he did not pursue. He calmly sheathed his sword, removed his helmet, and stepped outside. What were once lush gardens of green had become wartorn and disfigured, yet the old fountain from his youth remained largely intact. Its edged were chipped and its stones scorched black, yet it still retained water.

All around him the war raged on. Explosions boomed both near and far, causing the waters of the fountain to tremble and ripple. He looked down into those waters, seeing only a blurred image of something vaguely human with the occasional glint of gold from his ornate armour. Thurion set down his helmet and rested his shield against the fountain, and in the same motion reached down and extended his index finger. As the tip of his armoured digit touched its surface, the water became completely still, dispelling the ripples by otherworldly means.

What he saw next made the warrior grimace with pain and sorrow.

"Forgive me," the battle-weary soul said solemnly as he looked into the waters anew to find the reflection of his younger self staring back at him. A mere boy, not even ten years of age, with eyes so full of hope and promise. "I am sorry for what I've become; the violence I've resorted to. You would never have considered such things. You would have found a better way. You always did."

The blue-eyed child stared back at him, unflinching. The Lion knelt by the fountain, and as he did a few drops of blood fell from his armour and briefly tarnished the boy's visage. The blood of his enemies.

"I would give it all back if I could. I'd give anything to go back, even for one day. One more day with you, and her. To see the world with such awe and wonder — to experience everything for the first time. Free of this mountain of burdens and poisonous guilt. Even now the world burns wherever I roam as I am forced to take up arms against others, again and again. It didn't use to be this way. It shouldn't be this way..."

As teardrops fell into the becalmed waters, the young boy wept as well.

"I take solace in the knowledge that you are always with me. It gives me courage. I look into the eyes of my children and I see you, rather than myself, and I rejoice. You will forever live on in them, long after this wretched husk is no more. If it means preserving your light, your laughter, and your hope for the future, then I shall bear whatever sin and suffer any injury with gladness in my heart."

The sudden ruination of the Senate building caused him to lift his gaze momentarily, and by the time he looked back down the waters had rippled from the explosion and replaced the young boy with his old self. Thurion scooped up a handful of water and splashed it in his face.

"Fell deeds awake, little one," he lamented as he stood, bearing his shield once more and putting his helmet back on. Before returning to the fray, he stopped and eyed the fountain waters through the narrow slit.

"Take care of her, Son of Seren. I will avenge the both of you."

 

[Padd]

HOUSE OF CARDS
Near Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Late to the Party — Looking for a Fight
Allies: Anyone?
Enemies: Everyone?

From the wreckage he arose, with fire in his eyes and a flame in his heart. He wiped the mix of sweat and dirt from his brow before spitting chalky blood from his mouth. The body of a fallen Jedi lay at his feet, crushed by the rubble that had engulfed them both. He yelled in anger, cursing the destruction that interrupted his duel with a near-worthy opponent. The sounds of rage swallowed by the lightening that crackled above. In frustration, he lifted his left hand and thrust it to the upward, sending chunks of durasteel and concrete hurling into nothingness. In his right hand his lightsaber remained, the red blade glowing in stark contrast to the dim surroundings.

The mind could not be quieted. Even if such were possible in the midst of battle, he would not permit it. His focus was singular. His heart beat with intensity, fueled by the chaos surrounding him. He scanned the battlefield, moving slowly at first. A blaster fired, the shot deflected by instinct. A lone Alliance infantryman taking a potshot from 20 meters away. The Dark Jedi rushed his opponent in a frenzy, deflecting two more bolts before driving his lightsaber through the soldier’s chest with such power that the smaller man lifted from his feet. He withdrew the blade and let the limp corpse fall to the ground.

Coruscant would fall today. The Dark Empire would see to that. The Eclipse III prototype had already erupted from the lower levels of the core world, wiping away the entire Senate building in the process. But he had no care for galactic politics. His mission was to eliminate the New Jedi Order and destroy everything that it stood for.

 

[Amani Serys]

Eloise Dinn - Darth Vinaze​

<You have a hole in your torso,> Amani stressed, as did Vinaze himself a moment later. With that one defiant question however, she knew Eloise wouldn't obey her anyway, <Hubris.> Vinaze was something altogether different from that which Eloise had fought before. Whatever aid her padawan could provide, Amani did not want it to come at the risk of her life. So she was on double duty, keeping her unharmed and taking down the Sith Lord.

"...Let it be known I have never thought your kind to be weak. But you are youths rallying against a power you do not fathom. The Sith'ari's return is doom upon mortal kind."

"Save your sermons, sorcerer. Empty flattery does not suit you." Amani grimaced, and prepared for the worst. Vinaze offered it in the form of a surge of lightning, arcing violently and erratically towards the two Jedi. Amani could only hold her ground, living up the blade of her lightsaber to block and ground the electricity. This villain was strong in the Force. But Amani had strength of her own to counter it. She pushed forward against the current. Slowly, but defiantly, attempting to close the distance, only daring to speed up if he dropped the attack.

 

[Isar]

Location: Coruscant, Jedi Temple - West Wing
Objective: To Extend our Reach to the Stars Above

Allies: Jogon
Enemies: Corazona von Ascania | Jenn Kryze

Blue and purple blades hummed as Isar twirled them in his hands and brought them together in an X in front of him. A torrent of lightning cascaded into it and the hum of the contact set Isar's teeth buzzing.

For the barest of moments, Isar made the mistake of glancing away from the lightning and toward Jogon's fight, where he saw one of the Mandalorians transforming into some sort of clawed monster.

"The fu-?"

Distracted, jagged forks arced past his guard and struck him, sending a surge of electricity through his body and setting his hair on end beneath his body suit. He could feel the tingle and smell the stench of cooked flesh from where the bolts had struck him. Stomach somewhere and the leg. His eyes watered and he blinked through the pain.

Idiot. Losing focus like that... glitterstim must be wearing off. He could feel it ebbing from his mind. Soon it would be back to bland old existence. His lips curled beneath his mustache into an invisible sneer behind his helmet.

Burned, bruised, and battered, the Zeltron turned his lavender gaze upon the Jedi once more. Lightning? Swordplay? Hurled statues? Why was he bothering with these? Maybe some part of him hoped he didn't have to kill her. He didn't really want to, not even now. He knew if he broke her mind, truly broke it, then the pieces would never fit back together the same way.

But that was just the way these things happened. If he didn't put her down, she would kill him.

You or me, darling.

Too bad.

If she had immersed herself in the White Current, she could have had a chance. Once in the current, you could see the illusions for what they truly were. She could break free. But Isar did not sense she had, so he closed his eyes. As the lightning spat and sizzled against his blades, he delved once more into the umbral embrace of the empowering aura of the Dark Side, poured it into the current, and dragged her down into a land fraught with heinous nightmares.

But Isar didn't stop as he had before, he kept pouring and pouring, reveling in the way the power felt as he became its conduit. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should stop, knew that the rising tide would drown not only the Jedi, but the Mandalorians, the Stormtroopers, and Jogon too. He couldn't help it. The atramentous strength flowing out of him felt like unbridled ecstasy and his senses buzzed.

The rippling current flowed over the west hallway, replacing reality.

Darkness.

Then, the nightmares. Of the past. Of the future. Of guilt. Of mistakes. All their sins poured out of their mind, bleeding into the ether and giving life to the ghosts that now tore at them with phantasmal claws.

Everyone has simple daydream horrors.

Does she know I slept with her friend?

Does he know about the photos on my datapad? ​

Will they find out about the time I did spice in the closet? ​

Ordinary fears.

Isar pushed further, drilled deeper, dragging them all into darker waters. The pressure built up and up. In these depths, the fear became terror. And it seeped from their minds like oil.

He tapped into that primal horror of the unending dream, those inescapable nightmares, different for every individual.

Trapped in a room with no doors, only walls. Tiny. Space closing in, closer and closer and closer. Panic. Fingertips scrabbling against the walls. Screaming for help. No answer.

Abducted from bed and buried alive. Unable to move. The air growing stale. Unable to breathe. No room.​

Deeper.

Visions of some awful hell. Now, add sensation. The feel of fire consuming flesh. Shards of glass cutting across every inch of the body. The sensation of limbs and appendages hacked off. All of it illusory, purely sensory, but... It. Felt. Real.​

The Zeltron pulled on threads of existence. Yanked on strands of emotion. With them he rewove reality.

As the reality around the Mandalorian woman with the claws warped and she entered the darkness, it would fade away until she found herself staring at the ceiling.

When she finally awoke, her eyes fluttered open gently, staring at the ceiling... before realization finally kicked in, and she realized that she'd spent the night at a stranger's place.

But it wasn't a stranger's place. It was her cyare's.​

Embarrassed beyond belief and left with a lovely blush, the Mandalorian bit her lip.

The dream-her stood and walked. Heard the sound of running water. A shower? Kept walking toward it. That was when the dream-her saw the blood. Crimson. Spilling over the lip of the shower and puddling out over the floor.

The curtains tore aside and showed her the mutilated body of Sam, slashed so many times she didn't resemble a sapient being so much as a pile of diced meat.

Dream-Jenn looked down at her hands and found them to be claws, dripping with scarlet gore.

Monster.

You killed her.

Emotions of guilt and self-loathing hurtled toward Jenn's psyche like a two-ton speeder as the nightmare's sought to fracture her psyche and drive her to her knees.​

Nor was she alone in her torment. The Dashade would be engulfed in the darkness and when he looked around, he could see nothing... only that feeling of something in the darkness staring back at him.

Jogon did failed to cut an elegant or even dignified figure in his daring retreat - the big lizard looked downright absurd - but his thundering footfalls nevertheless carried him a short distance to the mouth of a narrow side street.

Visions from the darkest depths of his imagination spilled forth. They were somewhere out there in the darkness. They could smell him. They could see him. But he could only feel them.

A puff of hot breath on the back of his neck. Whirl around, but nothing was there.

The fingers of fear curling tight around Jogon, seeking to awaken animalistic instincts of panic and cowardice, that base survival instinct.

Here, he was only prey. And prey ran.​

Around Jogon, some stormtroopers dropped their weapons and ran, desperate to find an exit from the darkness.

Another collapsed to his hands, clutching at his helmet until he could rip it off and vomit fresh and putrid filth across the ground. Then he raised his shaking, gloved thumbs to his eyes and pushed until the intraocular pressure exploded. Blood drenched his gloves and he screamed and screamed and screamed.

The whole platoon became an incoherent discord of catatonic troopers.

Isar watched, his eyes cutting through the illusion as Isar saw one trooper discharge a blaster into his own helmet with a muted bwhop.

The Mandalorians would likely be similarly affected.

For Corazona, the nightmares coalesced into a single frame, repeated over and over again. They stood in a room, that damn hearth fire crackling in the corner. The broken form of Horace, risen from the grave and body horribly mangled, wearing Makko's face.

"What is this? Trying to undermine me again? I didn't give you these," said Not-Makko-Horace, wielding that hot poker. He pointed with it to the scar across her cheek from Carnifex's dark shear, "Running around, whoring yourself out to other men, flaunting the scars they give you at me? I told you not to make the mistake of being on the wrong side of me again. Let this be further instruction, I am the only one allowed to mark you." He held the poker against her cheek and she could smell the scent of her own flesh burning away. "Cease your squealing. I don't ever back down from opposition, dear wife." ​

Was it her screaming?
​

"What is this? Trying to undermine me again? I didn't give you these," said Not-Makko-Horace, wielding that hot poker. He pointed with it to the scar across her cheek from Carnifex's dark shear, "Running around, whoring yourself out to other men, flaunting the scars they give you at me? I told you not to make the mistake of being on the wrong side of me again. Let this be further instruction, I am the only one allowed to mark you." He held the poker against her cheek and she could smell the scent of her own flesh burning away. "Cease your squealing. I don't ever back down from opposition, dear wife." ​

Was it her screaming?
​

break​

​

"What is this? Trying to undermine me again? I didn't give you these," said Not-Makko-Horace, wielding that hot poker. He pointed with it to the scar across her cheek from Carnifex's dark shear, "Running around, whoring yourself out to other men, flaunting the scars they give you at me? I told you not to make the mistake of being on the wrong side of me again. Let this be further instruction, I am the only one allowed to mark you." He held the poker against her cheek and she could smell the scent of her own flesh burning away. "Cease your squealing. I don't ever back down from opposition, dear wife." ​

Was it her screaming?
​

break

​

"What is this? Trying to undermine me again? I didn't give you these," said Not-Makko-Horace, wielding that hot poker. He pointed with it to the scar across her cheek from Carnifex's dark shear, "Running around, whoring yourself out to other men, flaunting the scars they give you at me? I told you not to make the mistake of being on the wrong side of me again. Let this be further instruction, I am the only one allowed to mark you." He held the poker against her cheek and she could smell the scent of her own flesh burning away. "Cease your squealing. I don't ever back down from opposition, dear wife." ​

Was it her screaming?

BREAK​

 

[Adeline Noctua]

Equipment | In Bio

Location | Jedi Temple Undercroft

Tag | Gatz Derrevar Raphael Gallustrade

His thoughts, so.. Strange. Had the Jedi really allowed a man such as this to exist within their ranks? Either they were bigger fouls than she thought, or this man had started to break and give in to the more natural state of a human.

His plan had worked, and the occultist would exit his mind.. Simply gazing at him, all the while ignoring Raphael. Figuring the man was too burnt and weak to even stand.. Besides... A new project stood right in front of her it would seem.

Using more of her potent mind tricks she would conjure multiple images of herself. Amber gazed ghosts that surrounded him from all sides, with one placing a soft pale hand on his shoulder from behind.

"Do you feel it? The sweat bead that creeps down your neck? Fear, it is the most natural and primal emotion that lies within all of us. And that minor pain within the head when you stare me down? Anger, rage. You want to avenge the fallen, prove you are a better man now... But alas, how good is a man who can't properly protect his home? The ones he cares about? The things he vowed to protect? Embrace that anger, drive that saber right into my dark heart.."

The spectre whispers into his ear, soon joined by others who huddle around him, with one hand even gently rubbing his face.

"And lastly.. Those feelings for me? Simply adorable, perhaps I should take you up on that offer? To dine at my academy?"

She jests right back, hopefully hitting him hard in the senses. Be it fear, anger, or just pure embarrassment.

And with her words spoken, within the blink of an eye her spectres would be gone. The room went back to the place they once were, did they return? Or was it just a trick?

Adeline didn't attack, not yet. She was caught within a study of a soul, the soul of Gatz. Curious as to how he would react, broken? Determined? People were fascinating in a way she could only describe as being the most unpredictable creatures, chaotic no matter their goals. Each differed so heavily from another, it made her appreciate her clock, frozen eternally in time. Given every opportunity to study and understand, much akin to studying the most eldritch stars unknown to man.

​

 

[Efret Farr]

Malva'ikh Dralidok Astri Elyse

She had no awareness of how hard Astri tried to drag her along to wherever safety was, but she did perceive the dagger. The same Dark visions she saw at night flashed across her waking mind.

Ashla, was this how it was for him? Did he have no escape? No wonder he fought like a rabid animal. Efret was becoming similar to one herself: so scared of this shadowy water rippled from the past but also so desperate to drink of it.

A new image came to her mind—a small mammal lay dead on an altar, offal spilling from its belly and over the side towards the floor. She seemed to be in her own metaphysical body this time, free of the perspective of whoever had originally experienced these visions as reality. With her newfound mental control, she approached the macabre offering and noticed its deformed head.

Not mutilated. Deformed. Empathy still emanating from the corpse told her that it had been born rather than made this way.

Her heart began to beat against her chest in a way that it hadn't been yet, sending blood full of dissolved dread throughout her body. Something else in the air coaxed a chill down her nape and she whipped around to behold it.

A man she hadn't seen in years stood signing against a garden backdrop hazy with sunlight. <I cannot imagine your pain,> he began.

In her mind’s eye, she glanced behind her. The Temple gardens enveloped them now. There was no sign of the ritual space she had come from. She looked to her former master again.

He smiled at her and continued advising. <But you must not lose yourself in it.> When he paused, his chest heaved slightly heavier than normal, indicating to Efret that he had just sighed. His smile leached from his face. Astin Denor was seldom in a serious mood, but teaching this lesson required him to be that man. He, as most teachers, disliked warning students against the dangers of the Dark side. It was necessary to do all the same and it was better to proactively talk about it with padawans before it was too late. Efret wasn't in danger of falling now, as anyone who knew her was aware, but, just in case that she someday was, Astin didn't want this to remain unsaid.

<Council advise I not tell-you this because unnecessary but I disagree respect. I think hear good for you…> He motioned to her to walk with him. This she did. <Whichever path the-Force lead you, I care about you always. Why I must tell-you #Bogan not accommodate. Its followers won't accept your disability—not-either congenital or degenerative condition.> His face grew graver. <If you ever consider Dark side, consider again. Join them not practical for you.>

Finally, he managed a small smile as he shifted the topic. <Jedi life not require any physical ability. The-Force offer more possible…>

Possible.

When she looked away to ponder this, the foliage had become the dark marble of the Temple floor. Her reflection in it was marred with blood.

Yes, the Force offered myriad possibilities, and she was a master of it in many.

She curled her fingers towards her palms on the floor, bunching the weave of the Force near her and Astri. As the long halls of the Temple folded up, the door of her dorm room appeared just a couple of feet from the echani. Efret had no time to stand. She turned quickly to Malva’ikh and opened both of her hands. The maze that was the Temple unraveled between them at once like a bound accordion. The sudden energy release might even have knocked him off his feet.

Only after did she stand and turn back to Astri. The master held out a hand again, this time to Force push the door open. <Get—> With her other hand, she switched on her vocabulator. “—your things.” Efret could be surprised that she had actually pulled off a Force power that she had learned from the Aing-Tii monks on an expedition later. Right now, they had to move. The evacuation window was closing.

Inside the room, which had fortunately been spared by the infiltration, the two packed rucksacks were set at the foot of her made bed, on the floor. Efret reached for hers, put it over her back, and then took her comm from a pocket of her utility belt.

She had to let someone know where she and Astri were going.

Valery Noble came to mind instantly. The Grandmaster was surely engaged. A ping on her communication device might get lost at best or be a distraction at worst. Either way, it had to be done. Efret typed a short message out on her communicator’s text display. // Getting a padawan offworld \\ In a moment, she sent another text: an acronym. // Mtfbwy \\

“Come,” she told Astri as she stowed her commlink.

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Everyone seemed impressed with her ability to take a lightsaber to the diaphragm and not keel over. It was starting to make Eloise feel a little self-conscious. “Let’s just get this over with,” she grunted.

<Hubris.>

<Log off.>

But then the Sith Lord mentioned the Sith’ari. “One of my brothers claims to be the Sith’ari.” She grinned. “He’s eight.”

Vinaze unleashed blasts of lightning upon them. While Amani blocked it with her lightsaber, Eloise thought it would be fun to try some Tutaminis...

Amani Serys Darth Vinaze​

 

[Sinestra]

TAG: Romi Jade
The End
​

A heavy silence hung over the council chamber, only briefly interrupted by the occasional residual crackle of lightning. The tumult of war seemed to be suffocated by the tremendous energies of the dark side feeding off the destruction that laid about. Ancient chairs and walls stood ripped, torn and blackened by the tempest that had been unleashed; the heart of the Jedi bleeding from a gaping wound, carved open and salted by the dark side.

Looming over the edge, a dark wind beating against her torn cloak, Sinestra stared into the abyss below. Blood dripped from a hundred cuts and bruises and her breaths were labored rasps that sounded like the grating of a quill against parchment. But her eyes... her eyes burned in flames of sulfur. Alive. Reborn. The doubts and fears she had experienced during her fight with her former master were gone, swept away by the display of raw power she had unleashed. No longer was she afraid or uncertain about her future; she finally accepted who and what she truly was.

She was the Emperor's Chosen. She was the Harbinger of Change. And she would reshape the galaxy.

- The End -​

​

 

[Katherine Holt]

Objective: Protect the Temple
Gear: Armour, Lightsaber, Besker Spear
Tags: Ellayina L'lerim

The Force is mine to control, to bend to my will!​

It was a basic tenant of the Sith, one that was drilled into the Sith Valkyries’ teachings just like any other student. But no living being should’ve had the reasonable expectation to set foot into the Netherworld, physically speaking at least.

And yet the Valkyries did just that, as the final part of their training, in order to be elevated to such a position. But many hopefuls didn’t make it, instead having succumbed to the madness of the Nether.

Now here Katherine stood, within a memory she didn’t recognize. It felt like she should, but the Padawan knew it wasn’t one of her own. But she could feel the apprehension that was building within her chest.

However, as Katherine went to take a step she felt the ground beneath her shake. But looking around, she couldn’t see anything visually shifting to the movement. Eventually it settled, and the Padawan brushed it off as just Netherworld weirdness.

It never crossed her mind that it was coming from reality.

Katherine’s body remained motionless before Ellayina, seemingly blind and deaf to anything that was going on. There wasn’t even a reaction when the ground shook from the nearby quake, where the Padawan remained standing, like a statue.

There was no recognition or movement when Ellayina began walking towards her, not even a slight twitch. Katherine’s form remained in a defensive stance, poised to strike if her mind wasn’t presently occupied.

And yet, as the blond-haired woman raised her blasters to fire…Katherine’s lightsaber moved to disperse the stun blasts. The movement wasn’t nearly as elegant, much more stiff in comparison. Something was still pushing the Padawan’s body to react, the Battle Meditation perhaps? Or something else entirely?

 

[Zhea Nox]

ECLIPSE
ARCHIVES | CORUSCANT
ALLIES: Simon Meinrad
ENEMIES: DE
ENGAGING: Kaleb Sunwalker

SHATTERED​

So cold.

Zhea shivered uncontrollably as she directed her alteration toward the Dark tomes. It was working, albeit slowly. It pained her to destroy knowledge like this, but rather it be gone than in the hands of Solipsis.

She had just started thawing from the warmth of the air she was altering, when her blood froze all over again.

"Zhea! RUN!"

And a moment later...

"N-Nox... Nox!!! Noxy.... Come out and play!"

She drew a deep breath. She knew Simon only wished to see her safe, but he should have known that she wouldn't run. Instead, the Kiffar stepped out of the aisle she was in to face the young man that had once walked these very halls as a Jedi.
"You don't have to do this, Kaleb." she said, her blade still ignited but held at her side. She could feel Simon's frustration. Whatever hold the Dark Jedi had on him, she had to break that concentration.

She had stopped altering the air for the time being, knowing she had been weakened to a point where she had to pick her Force tactics. She couldn't let Kaleb do what he wished for. Not for the Temple, not for the Order, but for the Light to continue shining in the Galaxy regardless of symbols or allegiance.

For peace and order.

"I really can't let you go any further, the way you are now." she said, finally lifting her saber and settling into the stance of Niman. "I'm sorry." She darted forward, slower than she wished but still able to muster some speed, her blade arching for his legs rather than a more lethal area. Expecting him to parry, she immediately followed up the strike with a small Force Push. She just hoped it was enough to unbalance one so bloated on the Darkness.

She was already at a disadvantage due to its influence pulsing through the temple.