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

[Raphael Gallustrade]

Raphael stood in the hangar, the torch sending sparks everywhere, as he worked on his equipment. His rifle was ready, his pistol was good. He still hadn't made a new lightsaber so that was a bit hit or miss, but he'd have to make do. It was unfortunate, but he was fairly certain that his skills with the Force, and his aim would be sufficient, this time. He'd already spent all of yesterday in a deep meditation, connecting to the Force as he had done during his visits to Ambria. The Force had been strong in the canyon, and the week's pilgrimage had strengthened his resolve and sharpened his mind.

The side of his neck began to prickle, then it began to itch and, as he kept working, finally it began to burn. He pressed his fingers to his neck and he could feel that the runes were hot. Falentra had carved them into his skin, back during the attack on Jedha before... He sighed and shook his head, as he picked up his tools and began to put them into his ship. They screams were still there, but they'd died down, for the time being. In some ways he had to thank Falentra for this. The runes, at least, did reveal when darkness was nearby. They always burned horribly. And now, as the shadow began to fall over the Temple, they were practically on fire.

Without a second thought, Raphael go to his feet and put the staff into his ship. That part wouldn't help him, not with this. He'd learned a few things, in the time since. Ambria was one of the best learning experiences he'd ever had; it was there that he learned the best defense he'd found against the dark side. Instead of simply allowing one's light to roll off of them, dripping out like a fountain, he instead pulled it inwards, draped about himself like a cloak.

He saw a man, a... Raphael couldn't help but chuckle, considering that the man reminded him a lot of himself. They both looked like kriffing pilots. He could feel the light wrapped about the man as well. Raphael smiled, and took a moment of a breath, a deep breath, before he walked down behind the man, as the Force suddenly brought something else to him. There was a reason for them both to be here. There was a reason that they were both called. Their opponent was common thread that would bind them, in this fight. Raphael breathed evenly and noted that, for the first time since he'd first been bitten, he felt an eerie calm about what was about to happen. He'd have to chalk that up to training.

Friends: Gatz Derrevar
Foes: Adeline Noctua

 

[Romi Jade]

JEDI TEMPLE, COUNCIL CHAMBER

​

The galaxy burns once more. The shadow of the Dark Empire spreading like an unstoppable tide across star systems, leaving nothing but desolation in its wake. Coruscant's horizon was ablaze, casting long, dark shadows over the sprawling cityscape -- a world rapidly succumbing to despair.

She'd seen the planet razed far to many times.

She had navigated a labyrinth of shadows and deceit. The corridors of the Jedi Temple, now echoed with the heavy footsteps and harsh voices of the Dark Empire's elite. Today, she had imbued herself with a falsified dark side presence. It was a dangerous gambit; one slip, one moment of faltering concentration, and she would be exposed, surrounded by enemies. She pulled the shadows around her like a cloak, her mind weaving a web of deception that made her appear as one of them - she was a predator on the hunt for prey.

While she may have not had the raw power, she still had the experience and skill. And, her boost from Briana Sal-Soren

She climbed the stairs, her steps light but purposeful, every fiber of her being focused on the imminent encounter. The closer she got, the more she could feel Sinestra's presence, a dark beacon drawing her in. She could sense the anticipation, the twisted excitement of her former apprentice. As Romi reached the top of the stairs, she cast one last look at the temple below, the chaos and destruction a stark reminder of what was at stake.

In one of the highest towers, a council chamber is bathed in an eerie glow. The once serene room, with its panoramic windows offering views of the bustling city below, now frames a scene of apocalyptic devastation. The night sky is painted in hues of crimson and orange, the flames reflecting off the polished floors in a hellish dance. Debris and ash swirl in the air, carried by the acrid winds of war.

A sudden disturbance in the Force flares at the back of Sinestra's skull, a warning. But when the Mirialan turned sharply towards the massive doors behind her, the room is silent, the only sound the distant rumble of battle; there was nothing. Was it just a figment of her imagination? The anxiousness that came with war tricking her senses?

No. The Force does not lie. She'd feel it again, stronger this time. And when she whipped around a second time, there, emerging from the shadows as if woven from the very fabric of the darkness, like she'd been there the whole time was Romi Jade.

Romi's presence was a stark contrast to the darkness around her. Her face, lined with the hardships of recent events, remains resolute. Despite the loss of much of her strength in the Force, she stands tall, her resolve unbroken.

The air between the two warriors crackled with raw energy. Romi has used her dwindling power wisely, employing her telepathic powers to mask her approach. She had shrouded herself in the perception of invisibility, altering Sinestra's senses to believe she was not there. Now, that veil has dropped, and Romi is revealed, her expression a mixture of sorrow and determination.

"Sinestra..."

A sudden crash of a starship nearby rattled the temple, sending debris flying. Amidst the chaos, an upbeat tune from a local pop boy sensation faintly echoed from the wreckage, a surreal contrast to the grim battle about to unfold in the council chamber. (See play button at the top)

---
Sinestra ​

 

[Vorik]

Location: Coruscant, Jedi Temple Landing Pad.
Brothers: Orwrex
Adversaries: Briana Sal-Soren , Rik Perris

The shuttle rumbled ominously with their approach - a relic of times past, even he knew this. Homage to those who came before, of which he pursued the legacy of fervently. Around them grew an encroaching darkness, marred by the Shadow’s touch. It spread, like a parasitic growth upon the world. Even with his limited connection to that mysterious ability, he could feel it like a tangible thread. A spider’s web, slowly being woven to ensnare its prey, through which it would use to slowly devour it. It was the closest he’d ever been to that influence, and it suffused his being as much as any drug would.

The Disciple’s leg bobbed in anticipation, with nervousness, with excitement, against the craft’s floor, as he checked the magazine of his strange weapon - unlike most here, he still refused to take up a proper Lightsaber lest the Shadow brought it unto him. If he did not claim it himself, it was not his weapon. A terrible shriek of metal sounded out as they took fire. Vorik was, once, a pirate. While he was by no means a soldier, if there was anything he was good at, it would be pillaging the homes of others for riches and glory. One could almost say he felt comfortable with the present situation - preparing to do just that on a far grander scale than Vorik could ever imagine. He had never personally been to Coruscant, and his first visit would be as a conqueror. Such was the way of his avowed life.

Whatever he had the strength to take, was his. And right now, he felt nothing but strength. While he did not often take heed to religious ramblings, he could not help but listen and feel invigorated by the declaration of their purpose. To spread the Shadow’s influence, so that others may feel embraced by it. True freedom, tangible within one’s fingertips. Another, united in this goal, spoke over something he was not expecting - words of reassurance, a warning of heed for the oncoming storm of which they were bringing unto their foes. His head tilted curiously, silently regarding this for a moment as if uncertain what to say in reply.

“...The Shadow shall supplant us, this day - I can feel it. This ought to be good.” Came words of reassurance towards the other shadowed figure, despite knowing little of what he was talking about compared to some others aboard. Most of his newfound allies - brothers in arms, in purpose, Vorik supposed upon reflection - he was vastly unfamiliar with. Yet still, they felt a peculiar kinship by the virtue of what they were, and what they understood. There were many titans of war at play in the greater scheme of things, this he was aware. The simple fact of the matter is that he wasn’t one of those big figures. Not yet. Perhaps by aiding in the corruption of this Force-hallowed ground, he would be one step closer to achieving enlightenment by the Shadow, and feel as if he belonged proper.

Such reflections were cut short as the impacts were no longer able to be ignored. Gritting his teeth with a tightening grip, he shouldered his weapon on a strap on his arm. Hand clenched tighter as the ship thrashed and whirled across the skyline, warranting shouts and exclamations from some, and determined silence from others. He did not wish to muck up his chance to prove himself this day - silently praying for the Shadow to deliver them safely to their goal so they may set fire to all in its name. And it delivered, with another terrible scrape of metal against metal as it skidded to a halt upon one of the Temple’s landing pads. And as he recovered, a hand motioned for Orwrex , who may or may not have been disoriented from the crash.

“Up, Brother. Our zenith is upon us.” He urged, moving from the safety of the crashed ship and motioning for the door. Where bloodshed and rebirth awaited.

While not religious, even he could feel the zeal that the Shadow brought - and unbeknownst to the Disciple, the invigorating surge of strength that was Battle Meditation. Vorik welcomed it all wholeheartedly, as his dark figure rose up from the wreckage with the rest of his comrades, to the sound of Blaster fire. Out of the fire, into the fray it seemed.

“This lot won’t know what hit ‘em.” He chimed aloud, perhaps to himself or to his nearby allies. A zweeerh of energy sounded out as the bladed blaster primed. Moments afterwards, he rose above with the weapon roaring to life in a spray of bolts - with unparalleled clarity and accuracy, he almost surprised himself as the platoon of oncoming troops were rapidly picked off. He was one of the handful of Knights to still value a hardy blaster, it seems - he could not exactly throw chunks of rubble with finesse compared to just shooting someone. “Ask and you shall receive. Get a move on!” He thereafter urged to his brothers and allies, having responded to Olorion Fossk 's request and laid down covering fire to force the opposing Galactic Alliance Troops onto the defensive. But these were just fodder - no doubt the real challenge would appear soon.

 

[Tulan Kor]

​

With: GADF Soldiers l Thirdas Heavenshield
Fighting: DE Troops l Open 2 fight let's go bb 1v1

Tulan had spent quite a bit of time preparing the defenses of the Jedi Temple. Quite a long time, actually. The advantage of being a former enemy, and fighting the Sith for so long-

Well, he knew what they were going to do. Sith were predictable enemies. It's why they were constantly defeated. Jedi were trickier, they went into hiding too well, and they rarely reacted in the same way. But a Sith Soldier, and a Sith Knight rarely reacted differently. He'd studied their tactics from the days of the Old Republic, from the Brigade level down to the individual rifle squad. And thus far, not much had changed.

Just who they were fighting for, really.

Tulan marched along the crouched GADF troopers, and the ones that Thirdas had brought with him. Tulan was wearing his polished, clean, and very shiny and well-maintained OS-114 armor. He stopped near Thirdas before they sprung the rest of their ambush, as the Sith troopers walked into their killzone. Thirdas had yet to see Tulan back in the old suit-

Tulan held his helmet at his side, shaking his head.

"Not a word about the shine kid, or I'll kill you myself."

He clicked on his helmet, picking up his rifle, charging it with a flourish of his hand. He gave the nod, and a silent thumbs up.

And all at once, the GADF entered the fray outside the temple- flanking from above and below, in a perfectly-executed L-shaped ambush. The Sith were going to have to fight through the ambush to get more troops inside than there already were, along with the Sith. He cringed, gritting his teeth. He knew what that was. He had to fight through the Sith trickery. For the moment, it was unease, doubt, but fake. He'd been at this for forty years. It wasn't anything new, and the fact it was fake made him just more angry.

He tapped a machine gunner on the shoulder, shifting him right after the initial burst of fire to keep their weapon platforms mobile. He pointed over at Thirdas. Rounds scorched by, blaster bolts and Sith knights charging their position as Tulan's ambush intensfied, adding to the chaos of the situation at hand.

"Start marking targets for air support- I need your guys to handle the Close Air Support! I'll handle the rest of these guys. We have to wait for those fuckin' ne'er-do-wells to get here!"

Tulan may have neglected, or only partially told Thirdas and the GADF about his somewhat secret deal with the underworld of Coruscant to provide support. Only time would tell if they'd hold up their end of the deal.

 

[Malva'ikh Dralidok]

|| LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE||

~Day of judgement, God is calling~

OBJECTIVES: Drag Efret Farr to the Dark Side
TAG: Astri Elyse | Efret Farr

Spoiler

​

CORUSCANT, CORE WORLDS

KORAH MATAH KORAH RAHTAHMAH
KORAH RAHTAHMAH YOODHAH KORAH
KORAH SYAHDHO RAHTAHMAH DAANYAH
KORAH KEELAH DAANYAH

NYOHAH KEELAH KORAH RAHTAHMAH
SYADHO KEELAH KORAH RAHTAHMAH

KORAH DAANYAH KORAH RAHTAHMAH
KORAH DAANYAH KORAH RAHTAHMAH
NYOHAH KEELAH KORAH RAHTAHMAH
SYADHO KEELAH KORAH RAHTAHMAH

KORAH

KORAH MATAH KORAH RAHTAMAH
KORAH DAANYAH KORAH RAHTAHMAH
NYOHAH KEELAH KORAH RAHTAHMAH
SYADHO KEELAH KORAH RAHTAHMAH

KORAH​

I opened my eyes back to the land of the living. Fresh wounds can be seen on both my arms. Fresh from the Dagger, memories that supplement the coming encounter. The left one, a symbol of the Empire carved on my tricep. On the right, a name carved on my inner forearm.

EFRET FARR.

The name of the Jedi I fought in Jedha, I learnt from an ex-Jedi amongst our rank.

Corrupt who you can, the Lord Executor Ibaris Varanin said. Drag them to the Dark Side, infiltrate their mind, make them take the mantle of GOD like we did.

EFRET FARR.

That’s the name. That’s the target. That’s the next Dark Side Elite.

———————————————————————​

Have you ever heard the story of the Dark Side God? These Jedi think that brigading the Temple’s floor with their rank would do something to prevent the Nephilim from going where the Force will him to. It might work on anyone else, lost souls working for the Empire for blind, individual ambitions. Not for the Nephilim.

Like Phantoms, blending and travelling through the Force, the Nephilim glided so swiftly. Such displays were only possible for the most devout servant of the Force, and I am one. Such attempts from the corrupts would render its user insane, yet the Nephilim’s mind is one of a cosmic madness. He’s devoted and he’s let loose in the galaxy to do what his instincts drive.

EFRET FARR IS HERE, AND SHE’S NOT ALONE. SOMEONE SHARING HER BOND IS ALSO HERE.

Lurking in the gilded hallways of the Temple, the Nephilim follows the sign of his target. The Master Jedi doesn’t even try to hide her scent. SHE YEARNED THIS REUNION AS MUCH AS I DO.

Seeing the signs, with one swift movement the Nephilim blitzed the hallway where the pair were striding to safety, bringing with me intoxicating Dark Side mists, arms spread, showing the fresh carvings on my skin. THERE YOU ARE.

Spoiler

“My, my. Bringing a child to a second date. Eager aren’t you, MASTER JEDI.”

 

[Darth Centax]

Direct Opponents: Jonyna Si
Nearby Opponents: Ryana mina | Arla Rodarch | Master Jake Judah | Tulan Kor
Nearby Allies: Urienz Tyrael
Fire Support From: SCAR | Innis Tarring | Daraho Arvyd
Location: Fighting on and around the Temple Steps

Arla Rodarch | Tulan Kor

Unexpected Battle Meditation encompassed the Elite Centaxians forming into shield walls; their sonic javelins struck true across the area, piercing toward clusters of defending troopers, crashing out like the rain and thunder of the skies. The pounding sonic concussion from their impact might wreak havoc on enemy lines, ripping ground from beneath targets and potentially deafening them.

Ambushed and facing tough resistance, shield-bearing codex warriors roared as they charged, many meeting death in a glorious first contact, avenged by shadow fighter aces bombarding the ground from above. Air support and battle meditation assisted their numbers in reaching closer to the Alliance positions—ferocious combatants drawn toward melee combat, driven by an unshakeable fanaticism for victory or death.

Jonyna Si

Weaving and moving with passion and fury, Centax ascended the first steps. Swinging a metal elbow, he cracked a male Jedi in the jaw, ducked a strike, and took his opponent's leg from him.

A blur of fiery movement approached faster than the eye could see. In the chaos, Centax's focus deepened. He didn't block the accelerated attack directly but used his shield, embodying Shii-Cho, to limit potential strike points across his body.

Shockcharge and Stagger

With zones of attack covered well, he angled his shield to deflect the weapon's force downward. The resounding vibration still weakened the shield, pushing him down a step. At the same time, he moved his shield arm forward, matching the Jedi's concussive force potentially with a sonic blast shockcharged hit, a powerful first contact impression from the shield to knock back or daze—one that could only happen once.

He moved upward to stab his saber over the top of the oath shield, seeking to gain a step or two if the other was staggered. Jonyna Si might need to break this shield, which bore an Oath promising that this temple would burn—beginning a struggle for the very steps of this place.

Step by step, life by life, Centax claimed each one at a time, from the foundation upward.

Centax Gear:

Spoiler

Armor: Khan-OSK | Crushgaunts (Permanent)
Weapon: Lightsaber (Hand)
Shield: Runic Oath Shield (Left Arm)
Thrown: SCJ Deadline-B x4/5 (Back)
MK2 Jack Knife (Hip)
WP-19 Incendiary Grenade x 5/5 (Belt)

OOC NPCs:

Spoiler

200 Elite Centaxian NPCs for background only; assume hits on them as you like.
NPC Equipment: Shields, Pikes, Swords, Concussive Javelins, and Black Runic Armor.

 

[Arla Rodarch]

The Mandalorians fought ruthlessly against the Dark Empire onslaught. The Battle Meditation actually worked in their favour. When the emboldened troopers of the enemy hit the dead zone provided by the Force nullifying lizards, it was a hell of a shock. The momentary distraction was all Arla's IBC troopers needed to cut them down with aimed fire. It was a one-sided fight. A massacre, as the enemy were piled up. It almost wasn't fair on the enemy.

In the sky, the TIEs and shuttles were straight up murdered by Cammy Rodarch the Mesen'lora, as she flew a pattern in the skies around the Jedi Temple. Her plasma cannons burned starfighters down, and she was careful enough to use them as projectiles against Imperial ground forces. She was having the time of her life in the most target rich environment she had ever known. Starfighters, shuttles, dropships, they were absolutely no match for her. She was a nasty variable that the enemy could not have forseen nor planned for. And she was wreaking absolute havoc.

The effect combined, was incredible. The Mandalorians had turned a section of Coruscant into a killbox, into which everything hostile went to die. Infantry and aircraft could be poured into that killbox, and would quickly be turned to ash. With the sky above them kept relatively clear from airstrikes, Arla's ground position was doing a fine job of holding back and stopping dead any attacks on their position.

However the larger war and the battle for the Temple as a whole was going, Arla didn't know, but she did know that her little part of it was going exceedingly well. She stood atop one of the crates in the center of the formation, firing in support of the troops. The tanks continued to blast their song outward, not wasting their shells on infantry. They were for destroying vehicles, ground or air. And there were plenty of targets.

Arla could only hope their good fortune continued. "You go girl!" Arla shouted, watching Cammy tear into a squadron of enemy starfighters above the conflagration.

Despite the fact she had lost several soldiers already, Arla was feeling quite exhilharated by their initial success. Casualties came out of war, and it had been expected. However, only a few. Their position was holding strong, and already they had visited far more death upon the enemy. Arla had played her little trick of having the Marauder Mesen'lora cover their position from the air, and having the Ysalamiri present. The unexpected effects of the battle meditation on troops having it torn away without warning were a bonus that was so far paying dividends.

Spoiler: Links Factory and Codex

400 Infantry Battle Company Black Troopers
4 Myrkava Tanks
6 Jetii'kotir
1 Marauder Mesen'lora

Allies : Jonyna Si Ryana mina Tulan Kor
Enemies : Darth Centax SCAR Innis Tarring Daraho Arvyd Urienz Tyrael

 

[Mahsa]

Apparel　&　Weapons

Padawan Robes
NJO Utility Belt
Survival Kit

Lightsaber (Dantari Crystal)
Energy Slingshot Cuff
Energy Pellet Creation Bangle
(Hurrikaine & Permafrost Crystals)

Location: New Jedi Temple (Rooftops), Coruscant
Objective: Protect the Temple

---

Mahsa had been left to defend the Temple, though it was hard for the Kazelrrian to figure out if the decision had been out of kindness or a punishment.

Sure, her master had phrased it as something good—an important task given all that the Temple symbolized to the Jedi and those that looked up to them… but a quiet murmur in the back of her mind couldn’t help but wonder if the Echani thought of Mahsa as a hindrance instead of someone reliable to be by her side.

She shook her head in a physical attempt to scatter those thoughts, a hand resting on the two cuffs that now adorned her left wrist—new inventions by a young and talented Lovalla. When Zaiya Ceti had colorfully burst into their dorms one day the Kazelrrian had been curious to learn the cause behind her friend’s excitement, though she hadn’t expected the teen to surprise her with a pair of her own a few days later.

When she had shown them off to Ioti Jigora her master had been impressed and, after some careful consideration, she’d given her young padawan two crystals for the energy pellet bangle—certain that their combination could be of some use for Mahsa. Surely that meant her master truly cared for her wellbeing… right?

KRA-KA-BOOOM!!!​

The thunderous explosion reverberated through the corridors of the temple, drowning out the startled yelp that escaped the Kazelrrian as she instinctively covered her sensitive ears.

She had noticed the skies darkening since this morning, but Mahsa had never heard thunder louder than the ones accompanying the storm today. It had taken quite a while before the Kazelrrian erratic heartbeats had calmed down as she grew accustomed to their unpredictable appearance, even if she sorely wished the Firronthix had been beside her whenever a new one cracked through the sky.

Her footsteps echoed as Mahsa continued to move, patrolling the corridors as she sought out the presence of allies and enemies alike. At first she had circled around the areas of the Temple she frequented the most, but at some point her steps had carried her towards the stairs as Mahsa climbed higher and higher up the Temple’s floors.

She wasn’t sure if the faint tune that had caught her attention had been the call of the Force, its chime becoming louder and clearer the closer she got to the rooftops. She’d been halfway through the last flight of stairs when a heavy pressure suddenly descended, drowning out the faint melody that had guided her to this point.

It felt like she'd been tossed into a vat of thick and oozing liquid, the crippling sensation causing the padawan to press her back against the wall for support. A hand pressed against her chest, rubbing against it in a vain attempt to relieve the suffocation sensation grasping at her lungs, while the other covered her mouth in the hopes of keeping whatever little Mahsa had eaten this morning inside her stomach instead of the stairs.

<<Everyone who can, Fight back with meditation if you can.>>

An unknown voice came through the commlink secured in her belt, piercing through the initial panic that had flooded her mind and offering a sliver of clarity. She closed her eyes to focus on drawing deep breaths and slow exhales, quietly feeling as the palpitations in her chest calmed down and the nauseating sensation began to recede.

The fear wasn’t entirely gone, that much was evident from the dark inky stains that colored the bottom half of her hair, but she was able to resume her ascent one step at a time—certain that the source of her current discomfort was coming from above. Trouble currently lurked on the rooftops, and whoever had spoken through the communication system would undoubtedly require help dealing with it.

This was her home now, their home, and she would do her best to defend it so Ayhan had a place he could return to.

---

Allies

Hostiles

Unknown

Kaleleon

Ibaris Varanin

Drifter

​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

Ironsides Irregulars [X]
Team Members [X]
Italic means helmet is being worn.

New Jedi Temple
With: Tulan Kor | GADF
Against: Open | DE

"Easy now, boys and girls," his voice carried over comms as they prepared to spring their ambush. He looked over to Cain, callsign Cypher, at his side, giving the youngest member of the Ironsides a pat on the back. While he'd served with distinction since Sev Tok, Thirdas couldn't help but feel protective of the kid and his sweetheart, Mira. The young couple were his protégés, having taken them under his wing back when they volunteered to join the Bloody 88th. To him and the other grizzled veterans, they represented the idealism and innocence of youth — something they'd all lost long ago. All the more vital to keep that flame alive in them. "Stay close to me," he instructed Cain, who nodded in response.

As Tulan entered the stage, Thirdas swiftly rose from his crouched position with wide eyes. It was a glorious sight, witnessing his former CO bedecked in the armour of their old unit, proudly displaying the colours and insignia of Dorn Company. And yet, there was a sense of finality to it. He felt compelled to salute the old man as he approached, no different from how he would as a young recruit.

Thirdas said nothing as to the state of the polish, instead grabbing one of his pauldrons and giving it a sharp tug to make sure the fitting was correct. He nodded, smiling as he closed a fist and bumped Tulan on the shoulder. "One last 'oorah' for the Men of Dorn," he spoke with pride, then joined Tulan in putting his helmet on, his own marked with the runic writings of his homeworld.

Returning the thumbs up, the ambush was sprung.

All at once, the force Tulan commanded sprung from their carefully prepared positions and unleashed a devastating torrent of fire upon the invaders, many of whom were felled by the first few volleys. His Ironsides were evenly distributed among the Alliance forces, acting as anchors and shoring up the defenders with unmatched experience, keeping in contact with their spread-out brethren via a separate comms channel.

"Close Air Support — Aye, Gunny," his distorted voice acknowledged the order, finding Cain amidst all the chaos.

"Cypher, patch into DELTA-SEVEN-NINER and instruct them that we'll begin marking priority targets!" The communications expert nodded and crouched down behind cover to hail their air support. Thirdas turned his gaze to one of the towers of the Jedi Temple where Gaunt, callsign Grizzly, had set up sniping position and was casually chipping away at the Imp leadership.

"Grizzly, start marking targets for the fly boys to commence their strafing runs!" There was a loud crack before the master marksman replied with his characteristically cool, hushed tone of voice. "Wilco, Chief. Tagging priority targets now."

An over-zealous Sith Knight then sought a swift victory by leaping over the fortifications with his crimson lightsaber intending to cut Thirdas' head from his shoulders. Chief Ironside quickly fired his Battleaxe from the hip, lobbing a grenade from its underbarrel and hitting the Sith center mass, sending him flying back the way he'd come before detonating mid-air. Pieces rained down on attackers too busy to notice.

Through his visor, Thirdas saw the infrared laser aimed at an unsuspecting walker recently arrived on the scene. Before it had a chance to open fire, a gunship swooped in from above for a bombing run, reducing it to a fiery wreck.

 

[Cesare Demici]

Allies: Sinestra , Ibaris Varanin , Kaleb Sunwalker , Prowler II , Creuat , Irae , Vorm , Amena Kader

Engaging: OPEN

Theme

The past few weeks had been... trying. The death of Pietro, Cesare's father, still lingered within his mind as he had prepared to descend upon Coruscant. His mind flooded with him with a vast array of intense emotion, as if the very waves of Kamino's oceans were crashing against his brain. The anger he felt deep within the core of his being seemed the only constant, and as long as he could, he would use it to find a path forward. He had not lost sight of wanting to bring vengeance to those that had put his father to the sword, but revenge was always best served cold, and Cesare would have to be precise in his strike should he wish to succeed.

The Dark Side Elite fell in line behind the dark visages of Sinestra and Kaleb, their heads on a swivel as they made their way through the temple. Cesare had never visited this site, for he had spent his life training to join the Imperial Knights. And when relations with the Alliance soured, there was certainly little opportunity for one among the Knights to visit a temple in the crown jewel of Alliance Space. Yet, he could not deny the history held within its walls, almost enough to make him pause in awe at the stories held within the temple's halls. Yet, there was no time to take such sensations in, for they had come to do bloody work, and he planned to deliver that blood.

He kept his lightsaber in hand, though for now it would remain unignited. He wished to hold his presence back as long as he could, though certainly there would be time enough to bring its plasma blade to life. For now, he would fan out with the others, stalking the halls in search for whatever poor soul may still be lurking within...

 

[Khronas]

NEW JEDI TEMPLE, CORUSCANT
Valor the Forsaken

​

Right on time.

A flight of New Sith Order Infiltration Shuttles tore through the tumultuous skies above Coruscant, narrowly evading enemy fire and the ominous storm clouds. Thunder and turbolaser blasts washed over the shuttles, dealing death to the invaders within. Packed tightly in the dimly lit cargo hold, the Sith Acolytes steeled themselves for the imminent clash as they descended towards the heart of the New Jedi Order.

Khronas, like his peers, did not fear death. Death was for the weak, the unprepared, and those who shied away from the truth of the Sith teachings. Logic dictated that death would not greet him today. His time had not yet come.

The surviving shuttles touched down on one of the New Jedi Temple’s external landing pads thirteen seconds behind schedule. The Siniteen grimaced, his natural timekeeping abilities more accurate than any chrono. Delays were to be expected in the chaos of war, yet they still threatened his plan. He would need to make up time.

The boarding hatches lowered and disgorged the youth Sith warriors. The Acolytes - New Sith Order members yet to be apprenticed to a Sith Lord - charged the Jedi defender en masse. Their Sith swords, poor facsimiles for the lightsabers they had were yet to earn, clashed with the blades and armour of the Jedi. Khronas followed his peers across the storm-drenched landing pad, though darted wide to avoid conflict. He needed to make up time.

Dozens of Sith trainees fell to the Jedi, another charging in for each that was cut down, emboldened by the battle meditation of Darth Vinaze . Their Overseers had promised glory to those who returned with a Jedi blade, dangling before them to promise of being taken as an Apprentice. Khronas ignored the temptation - the timeline he had set for being apprenticed had not yet been reached. He would advance his meticulously planned schedule through other means.

The Siniteen breached the blastdoor leading to the New Jedi Temple seven seconds behind schedule. It was an improvement, but there was still more time to be made up. He hefted his Sith sword and hurried down the darkened hallway, feeling the dark corruption of Ibaris Varanin washing over the temple.

Today, he advanced the Grand Timeline.

 

[Sinestra]

TAG: Romi Jade​

"Sinestra..." the voice was unmistakable.

Their encounter on Jedha had not been long ago but there the darkness of night had concealed much of their faces; now, illuminated by the Coruscani skies on fire, Sinestra could see her former master clearly: the years had etched wisdom and sorrow into Romi's face like the fissures of a millennia old bedrock that had witnessed time repeat itself and remained steadfast, unmoving. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, burdened by the weight of a life in ceaseless toil, but in the Force that bound them Romi stood tall, a beacon of the light Sinestra had cast aside under the impenetrable shadow of the dark side. The sight of her old mentor brought the memories crashing back in a torrent: late-night lessons, missions fraught with peril but underpinned by trust, and the bond they had once shared, now shattered.

Romi's piercing gaze met Sinestra's. The chamber shrunk the distance between them into a mere thread tethered by their shared history. The weight of Sinestra's regrets bore down on her shoulders anew, the fear of her choices rendering her vulnerable. Gritting her teeth, she cast unto the fire of the dark side the weaknessess that plagued her; to melt the chains that constrained her.

"I've been waiting for you, Romi. We meet again, at last. The circle is now complete." she ignited her crimson blade and levied it in Romi's direction, its hiss cracking through the humdrum of war surrounding them. "When I left you, I was but the learner; now I am the master." the dark side engulfed her and in a blur of speed she lunged at her former master with a flurry of strikes.

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Coruscant, Temple District
Objective: Defend the temple
Tag: Project Uriel

One day before the invasion...

On the balconies of the Jedi temple, a lone figure stood with a lit cigarette. He was quiet and expressionless as the distant sound of shuttles rattled in the distance, something which would change with explosions and blaster fire come morning. Peace was important before facing the storm, and if anyone needed it as of late it would be the Jedi. They were prepared for what was to come, yet you could sense a hint of unease amongst his ranks from the darkness looking to destroy their way of life.

No matter what, they wouldn't let them do it without defiance.

A puff of smoke drifted into the air and hovered away from the temple, leaving it to eventually disappear like most things do. Silas was no smoker, but when it came to things like this there was no harm in having one. It helped him focus, and when it held some sentimental value it could only benefit him further. During the rebuilding of his house on Azbrian, a number of items had been retrieved during the demolition of the ruins. One of them was his father's cigarettes, which had survived the fire solely from being locked away in his container.

For years, he was hesitant to take them. It was only a month ago did he finally decided to begin finishing them for his

The pack held twenty one, now there were eighteen. By the time he had finished them, he was expecting things in his life to have changed quite drastically. Hopefully, he'd still be breathing by then...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Running with urgency Silas was belining for the evac area with all his might. Like most Jedi, he had been stationed within the temple in anticipation of the Sith's arrival. However, at the same time, there were also medical evacuations which were still happening within a secure part of the temple district in touching distance of the sacred structure. Mainly troopers were tasked with defending it, but if they were getting overwhelmed Silas had offered his sword for assistance within reason.

Jedi and troopers were among the wounded, they were equally as important as the stone that kept up the foundations of the temple.

In the wake of Urials destruction bodies of the defenders and wounded lay across the floor as she gunned for an evac ship trying to take off. Seeing her slaughter one soldier made him grit his teeth in disgust, and before long Silas was right on top of her with frightening speed. Pressing his hand against her side, he sent the android flying through layers of ruined walls with a loud crash.

"Get the last of the ships out of here now, you are on borrowed time!"
​

​

 

[Electra-12]

Location: Coruscant Atmosphere
Objective: Strafe Jedi Temple
Call Sign: Nacheria Seven
Allies: SCAR Innis Tarring Eiric Ardos Daraho Arvyd
Tag: Arla Rodarch Thirdas Heavenshield
Direct Engagement: EVERYONE AT COUNCIL TOWERS

It had been far too long since Electra-12 had flown a combat sortie. The collapse of the Brotherhood of the Maw had forced the Final Dawn into hiding with Electra herself had gone with them, thus falling into a shameful, pitiful retreat which had seen the strand-cast fervently devote herself to prayer and training. And yet, for all of the focus those self-same activities had given her, the strand-cast had fallen into a depression. After all, her dreams of a pure, cleansed galaxy had failed. What use was there for her continued existence, beyond aimless suffering? There was purity in pain, but pain needed a purpose, just as a honed blade was useless without a war to prosecute.

In that respect, Electra viewed herself as an instrument of cleansing. She was a scalpel crafted to excise the filth of corruption from the galaxy.

And now, with the rise of the Dark Empire, she finally had a purpose. Coruscant, and its wretched, corrupt Jedi Order and the degenerate regime of the Galactic Alliance were long overdue for a lustration. Just as her race, the Chiss, had been cleansed and made anew, Electra would do the same to those who worshiped at the altar of so-called democracy and Lightblind heresy.

It was those thoughts—and not the idle chatter of her squadmates—that filled her mind as Electra slid down into her TIE’s cockpit, before running through the practiced routine of her pre-flight checklist. Once that was complete, the Chiss powered on her TIE’s systems, the howl of the twin ion engines filling the hangar bay as the pilot gripped the control yoke and darted her delicate, gloved fingers across an array of buttons set on the console in front of her.

“This is Nacheria Seven, ready for takeoff.” Electra spoke out over the comms. Moments later, the deck officer gave her the signal to go, at which point she slammed her right foot on the accelerator to send her TIE Outlander screaming into the void.

After a brief, yet turbulent atmospheric translation, the towering spires and edifices of the New Jedi temple were within her sights, standing as decadent idols of heresy and putrescence. Silent, Electra resolved that she would strike them down, even knowing that her attempt to do so now might fail given the depth of the defenses surrounding the temple.

"Engage targets," SCAR ordered. The TIE fighters opened fire, their green laser bolts lancing out towards the marked points on the Temple. Locations where the Jedi and several soldiers of the GADF valiantly made their stand against the approaching Imperial forces led by NSO and DSE. Explosions erupted as the shots found their marks, debris flying in all directions. They would not stay to see if it dealt any killing blows.

Electra locked onto the Council Towers and added her lasers to the disharmonious chorus of plasmatic hellfire, aiming to strike down each of the four towers with a salvo of surgical shots delivered from her TIE’s quadruple array of rapid-fire heavy laser cannons. The Chiss fired more than twenty bolts in total over three seconds, aiming for the foundations of the towers so that they might collapse wholesale onto the temple itself, with the aim of inflicting maximum damage in the process.

“Attack executed! Confirming effect on target.” Electra growled over the Shadow Squadron’s shared comm channel as she activated her TIE’s ECM systems, aerosol-ejecting micro missiles launching in her wake so as to protect against retaliatory fire. At the same time, Electra whipped her TIE away from the temple in a tight chandelle maneuver, having made her strafing run from a relatively shallow, low altitude trajectory, rather than firing on her targets from a steep dive.

"Shadow Squadron, regroup and prepare for the next target," SCAR commanded. The mission was far from over, but the first objective had been achieved with brutal efficiency. The skies above Coruscant were a maelstrom of conflict, but SCAR felt a cold satisfaction. The Empire's return was a harsh reminder of their power, and the Alliance would have to reckon with it.

“Copy that, vectoring on you, Shadow One.” Electra said in a cold, focused tone, that was yet laced with the fervor of her devotion.

Spoiler: Loadout

Craft: TIE/OTx Outlander

• Status
  
  • Shields: 100%
  • Armor: 100%
  • Structure: 100%
• Systems
  
  • ECM Suite: Active
• Armament
  
  • Rapid Fire Heavy Laser Cannon (4)
  • Missile Launcher (2)
    
    • Proton Torpedo (5)
    • Advanced Concussion Missile (5)
• Pilot Equipment
  
  • Dark Empire Flight Suit
  • SFP-60x Particle Beam Pistol

 

[Jonyna Si]

​

Objective: Hold the Line
Screaming Ties: SCAR Innis Tarring Eiric Ardos Daraho Arvyd
Allies: Arla Rodarch Master Jake Judah Ryana mina Kaleleon
Direct Contact: Darth Centax Aether of the Iron Order ​

All she could really do was brace as the sonic attack hit her, followed by what she had assumed would be a barrage of laser fire from the screaming ties.

Instead, only the sonic attack hit as an iron droid deflected the laser fire, looking to her with a calm, if strange, look.

"Stay vigilant, my friend," Aether's voice resonates clearly. "Allow me to handle this,"

She didn't have much time to respond, as next came the saber. In her staggered state, all she could do was deflect with Liz, and hold her stance. "Deal with the other troops!" She yelled as she stared back at the sith in front of her. He seemed to favor that shield.

Without a second thought, her tail slipped from her coat, wielding a small pistol that let out a massive sonic beam, immediately attuning to the harmonic frequency of the shield. That should weaken it enough to-

A valor for which Jedi could fight back from.

Suddenly, she felt it wash over her. The will to fight. The doubts in her head emptied from her mind as she pushed back against the blade locked with her katana, just long enough for her to drop a hand, putting Paul away, and Slice at the shield with her newly activated saber, Lucy. The blade of her mother, burning with pyrokinesis that made the blade hot enough to damage even the strongest materials.

This would be her finest hour. This would be the moment her legend was made. The sound of rain filled her ears as she kept up the storm above. The Force was her ally. The rain her friend. The crack of thunder filled the air as she struck down twelve more sith elite troopers in an instant.

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

Välk

[atmosphere]

The New Sith Order’s mission to Vortex had been a disaster; but the failure was only his.

With one having disappeared, and four other Sith Holocrons having been whisked away by the Jedi just a couple of months prior, and taken to their Temple here on Coruscant, Darth Ptolemis’ goal was singular. A terrible rage permeated every atom of his being; the Shadow Hand of Darth Solipsis shamed, now on a cataclysmic course to take back what belongs to the Sith.

Cloaked and flying one of the infiltration shuttles, having slipped through the massive naval battle overhead, the masked Darth Ptolemis had sensed the many other acolytes of his order on the same trajectory near him. The flight of Sith infiltrators soon broke formation, each shuttle attempting to land by their own accord. The meditative powers of Darth Vinaze echoed in the distance.

The skyscrapers of the ecumenopolis smeared across his peripheral vision, the Shadow Hand sat at the helm, commandeering the vessel with wrathful determination. His distorted voice is heard as he addresses Välk , his only apprentice, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat. - I have verified the information you’ve brought about the holocrons’ location. - Ptolemis glances at the Dark Spirit taken form, then back at the city whizzing by below. - You have done well, my apprentice.

In the next instant, the Force screams at him. A stray artillery shell impacts the back of their ship, cracking it in half in a fiery explosion. The two flaming, open halves of the shuttle hurtle on with unbroken momentum, and the Sith Lord grabs onto his seat, his body fighting against the gravitational forces that would see him ejected from the falling wreckage. Before he’s finally thrown out, he catches a glimpse of a narrow terrace attached to a high-rise nearby…
​

 

[Zhea Nox]

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

ALTAY​

It hurt being back here.

She had left Coruscant originally to aid Cato Neimodia against an Imperial attack. She had originally left the Order to ensure her Padawan's survival. When she had done it, it was with the plan of returning at some point. But then disconcerting news started reaching her on the Frontier.

She never thought she'd return there as a Jedi no longer part of the Order.

When news reached them of the growing menace of the Empire and its impeding attack on Coruscant, however, Zhea couldn't just stand and watch it happen. She had begged Simon to go. To at least try and do something. Be there for the civilians that had been left behind while planet leaders and protectors fled. He wasn't happy at the idea and made her swear to not separate from him and to listen if he ordered a retreat. She could promise to at least try.

She knew from his look that it wasn't exactly enough, but he did mobilise nonetheless.

At least it wasn't just her that was almost uncomfortable being back at the Temple. Her rock had the same reaction she had to walk the hallways again.
"You'd think so, yes, but it would be counterproductive to safeguarding knowledge, Simon." she answered him as they walked. "You know this." They were almost at the door of the Archives. She had to see if any foresight was utilised during the evacuation of the young ones or if they completely left the knowledge where everyone knew it would be.

"Is there anything else you need to attend to, love?"

Her lips pursed into a thin line. "I want to make sure our knowledge is safe, first. Then we can go." she said.

She sincerely hoped she was wrong about the premonition that scratched at the door as she approached the actual Archive entrance.

And then a chill ran through her body.

A gasp escaped her lips as she leaned against the wall next to the door, an utter coldness wracking through her. A complete dread had gripped hold of the Temple.
"S-Simon....they're already here." she shivered, looking at him as fear danced in her eyes. "We're n-not leaving, whether we want to or not." She drew a shuddering breath as she straightened up, suppressing the urge to dry-heave as a nausea welled up inside her.

Gritting her teeth, she moved through the door that had hissed open. Horror gripped hold of her as she realised that many things have not been moved or safeguarded. Fighting against the despair that wanted to bring her to her knees, she moved in deeper, feeling the cold fingers of a Dark presence running up her spine. Whoever it was, was close by.

She knew Simon would stick with her, as much as he wanted off the planet. Despite the Darkness that threatened to overwhelm her completely, she knew she could rely on him to be by her side and be the Guardian he had always been. She was ready to face whatever was in here as long as he was with her.

Until she rounded the corner toward the Bogan collection...

A somewhat familiar handsome young face had turned to face the duo.
"I know your face..." She searched her memories for the classes she had taught for so long before she had left. All the while, the coldness in her body increased, creeping ever closer to her heart and the nauseous feeling increased ever so slightly. Something was off about the young man that she had seen in the Temple on numerous occasions. Was he still a Jedi?

One way to know for sure.

"Sunwalker, isn't it?"

 

[Isar]

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

Allies: Jogon
Enemies: Jenn Kryze | Corazona von Ascania

Behind the hulking Dashade stood what appeared to be a heavily modified stormtrooper, in black and gold armor, with a cloak tossed over one shoulder to match, echoing the appearance of the old Nova troopers. Of course, this was not a stormtrooper at all, but Isar the Zeltron. He'd stripped the armor off the corpse of a remnant loyalist and then done up a paint job. Say what you would about those hardliners, but they died well. Whatever dying well meant in this universe. Jogon would have appreciated it... probably. Fearless until the very end.

As someone who had been through this shit before, Isar wore a helmet and didn't carry a single grenade on his person.

As they stood before the temple doors, Isar paused, eyes fluttering closed. Glitterstim spice roiled through his system and his head buzzed, every sense heightened to unbelievable levels. Dark Side energy pulsed over him, a king tide of cimmerian strength. And yet...

"I have a bad feeling about-"

Jogon blew the doors open.

Then they were inside and the Dashade was chucking a full-on statute at a Mandalorian. Guess they were in it now.

The pirate unclipped two simple lightsabers from his belt, they flared to life, one blue, one purple. The Jedi across from him might recognize them as the weapons of the two Mirialan padawans he and Jogon had slaughtered aboard that Arquitens cruiser.

Isar gathered energy into him and took up a Soresu-influenced Jar'Kai stance and beckoned to the Jedi.

"Come on then, love."

He reached out in the Force and probed her mental defenses with his own mind.

 

[Kaleb Sunwalker]

Location: Jedi Temple, Jedi Archives
Tags: Simon Meinrad Zhea Nox

Kaleb would smirk upon seeing the glowing blue light of the Holobook cases shine through the door. He had finally made it to what he had been searching for. The Jedi Archives would at last be his, he wouldn't be denied any secret, no librarians to deny him access to what he felt worthy of knowing. He would press his hand towards the door that led into the Archives themselves. Slowly with a nudge of his dark power did he open the entrance inside, what was standing before him was a Zabrak Padawan. The same Padawan with whom Kaleb had encountered during the night he fell to the dark side.

Kaleb's imposing figure, covered in dark armor and a dried blood looking cape that billowed with the breeze of the tunnels. The Zabrak Padawan seemed shocked, a little nervous for Kaleb could sense the fear emanating from him. He finally heard the boy speak, his hands full with datapads, ancient scrolls. No doubt he was trying to get away before the Dark Side Elite appeared, before Kaleb appeared. The Zabrak boy tried to must a smile, even with his arms full of precious knowledge. "O-Oh hi Kaleb... I didn't know you were coming bac-" The nervous smile that remained on the poor boy quickly turned sour. His words cut off by the ignition of Kaleb's emerald blade piercing through the abdomen of the Zabrak. All that remained was a look on the boy's face that questioned why.

One hand rested gently on the shoulder of the boy, his hands full of datapads and scrolls would come crashing to the ground. "Good to be home..." Kaleb would whisper eerily into the boy's ear as he pulled back his blade from the boy. The boy released from the hold of Kaleb's emerald lightsaber would collapse to the floor a now lifeless body, with a look that held questions that would receive no answers. Kaleb's first instinct was to pick up the stack that the fallen Zabrak boy had carried, but his senses were alerted immediately.

Kaleb would deactivate his lightsaber, his eyes marveled at the empty Archives. Stacks of holobooks left all to him, whatever secrets the Bogan Collection would also be his soon enough. He moved slowly, his saber clutched within his grasp as he moved to the holobooks. A gloved hand reached out to touch the stacks of books. "Lies... Jedi lies... Jedi deceptions... Yes--I See now! Kaleb see's through all... Soon all of it will be mine, every scrap, every book.... All of it will be mine!" Despite the shadows that haunted his ruined mind, did he have the clarity to see his desires. To know more of the Force, of the dark side to which he might heal the damage caused by the Phobis device. Some ancient trinket that would use the shadows as an advantage than as a hindrance.

Kaleb would then shift his attention from the holobook cases left unguarded, turning his attention to the entrance that led into the Archives. Whoever was coming, it was sure that Kaleb would not be left to his own devices, or his pursuit for more knowledge. It appeared that a homecoming was in order for the Fallen Jedi as he turned to see a woman standing close to the Bogan Collection. A man was with her, the woman's face he had recognized in-between missions to collect artifacts for the Archives with Master Eldara, Kaleb would spend his time in the dueling dojos, focusing on refining his saber combat. Through his shattered mind, he could remember the face as clear as day. The very mention of his name brought him from his pensive and clouded thoughts.

​

"Sunwalker, isn't it?"

Kaleb took on a wide smirk. Pointing to his own head did he speak to the Jedi he once knew. "S-Sunwalker still here... Sunwalker has returned, more clear than I have ever been. K-Kaleb feels more clearly, yes shadows make me strong." Kaleb would say half raving, and the other half was still Kaleb, or what was left of the proud Jedi Knight. "I know you too... N-Nox... Yes-Yes! I have seen you... We need not be adversaries... The Emperor will show you mercy, if you surrender now and come with me... You need not held back by Jedi deceptions and lies.... Join the Shadows... Join Kaleb.... Join The Empire..." Kaleb would say, his maddening clarity shining through in this instance to try and convince Nox to leave the dogmatic views of the Jedi. She would have to see it would be far better than the alternative, what happens to traitors within this new Empire.

 

[Cordelia Dimitte]

TAG: Balun Vale

Cordelia realized she had become rather clingy, she had held Balun’s hand because her conversion to from the Dark Side had been jarring. She had used him as centering axis in her confusion and the new normal. Letting go of his hand, she realized that her being near him in this battle would distract him, as it did on Lola Sayu.

She then looked at him one more time as she stepped back and headed towards a guard who held a Staffsaber and was in armor.
“Where are the Younglings? I do not think I will be much help here.”

The Guard looked at her through his visor,
“Most of them were evacuated with the Padawans, though..”
Some static hit his comms,
“This Knight Juwana Var, there are some Younglings.. trapped.. underground.. please help!”

The Guard looked at the short haired girl and said,
“The Force must be with you, turns out there are some in the deeper levels.. but I cannot accompany you. Beware of Sappers, those nasty driods seek to melt the temple from underneath..”

Cordelia made her way with haste, she turned to see Balun one mode time before running acoss the fine carpet and down some stairs to an alcove that had a lift. She pressed the button for the lower levels, it descending till it got stuck, and a ddoid bore through, the door melting to reveal glowing gold eyes and tubes on its backs that spewed magma like liquid, Cordelia evaded and ignited her cyan kyber to lop its head off. She then walked over the hard shell of the Sapper and was in a hallway of shadow with flickering lights, she would have to descend the old fashion way, making her way through this labyrinth, as she stepped away from the lift it plummeted and she jumped. Turning and using her saber’s blue glow to illuminate, she crossed hersdlf in the shape of an A for Ashla.

Making her way in a maze of tunnels, she came to a scene of great columns that no doubt were the foundations of the Temple, the pillars were massive and thick and she saw the orange glow below, as many lights of that lava hue surrounded the base far down. She closed her eyes for a moment and decided to do something foolhardy, she leapt into air and dug her saber into the great foundation pillar and slide down as it made a steak of molten amber and it turned black as she descended, her heart pounding as she dropped into Sapper Circle, and she said,
“Hello there!”

She began spinning her blue kyber to cut arms asunder, some firing their magma canons, which with some evasive moves and quick thinking, engulfed another Sapper Droid.


She cut down another, when dropping down from ledge above was a cloaked figure that immolated a garnet blade, a brooch of a ring with jaggid teeth imbedded in his chest armor, it looked like the jaws and teeth of a Firaxen Shark. The Dark Warrior moved with great ferocity, Cordelia parried as his fury of strokes swung about in the midst of Sappers, the Ashla Acolyte knew the rage well and as she was pushed back she had to resist the urge to give in, to tap her Sith powers that she had abandoned. He moved like a beast, beat at her like a Reek, she could barely hold him, when he tore off the back pack of a Sapper that poured magma on the floor. He turned as his outfit caught flame, rising all over him, he did not seem harmed, he became a living flame of Chaos as he charged her. Cordelia grabbed a Sapper by the back and threw them in his path, he jumped and kicked off the back and thrusted his hungry blade, it made purchase at her outer shoulder, sending sparks flying. She swept low and pointed her hands to throw him with a burst of the Force, he was knocked against the close wall, and the breeze of its blow stoked the fires on him anew, Cord fell on one knee, the amount of strength expended had weakened her with the minor injury. The Dark Warrior drew near, he held his hilt with both hands to make a finishing blow, Cordelia raised her saber which made him tilt his helmed head.
She then with another burst leapt with her blade and thrusted with both hands, the Darksider swung but she made it past the sweep and bore her blue blade through his chest into the wall. The sweep did strike her back ad she cried out, and he then fell down against the wall breathing heavily, before going silent. Cord rose up and placed her free hand on her back, feeling the torn flesh and tunic. She ached, and the wound made her hunch over & limp. A Sapper rose up and she dug the tip of her blade in its head, making it fall. She then began to climb out, the feat making her cry our when she saw barrels all point in a circle from above, troopers began to open fire, bolts flying and falling. The Young Convert was wondering if she would survive this onslaught as she scaled up, bolts flying around her, one singeing her cheek as she made it to that ledge where the Dark Warrior had been. There was no time to rest, she said to herself,
“Get up Cord! Get up!”

She mustered her strength as she hunched and limped down the corridor, she expected a reception of blaster fire, and to her dismay, a Mandalorian stood in blood red armor, with drawn beskcad it pulled out of a Jedi. It turned and looked at her with its T shaped visor. She reflecting in it as she held her saber up with both hands. She knew the renown of Mandos as fierce warriors, and she did not expect to survive this, so she made a plea, seeking to appeal to some humanity
“Please.. I am looking for children.. to get them fo safety.. I am not a Jedi. I wield their power, but my Order.. my clan is not them. I beg you let me pass unharmed.. I appeal to your honor as a Mandalorian..”