Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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


NEPHILIM PAGE CLAIM
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|| LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE ||

~Day of judgement, God is calling~

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


CORUSCANT, CORE WORLDS

What is a chase? A chase is not an activity where one is trying to catch another with a possibility of escape. A chase is a game where both the hunter and the hunted indulge in the extreme height of all their senses. It’s an intimate activity where bloodlust and terror converge in the air, birthing an exquisite scent like no other.

So is what happened right now in the Temple. Hallways to hallways, stairs to stairs, it’s a chase throughout a labyrinth that is curiously empty sans three souls engaged in this game. Is it all just in the Jedi’s mind, are we just running in circles, indulging in the deepest, most carnal pits of our natural instincts? Who knows. The Nephilim is not in its humane form at the moment. It just indulges in the chase, and absorbs memories that will be planted in the subconscious plane, even picking up the padawan’s name in the process.

Following the two Jedi, I made my way to the Temple’s agricultural research center. So fresh, such a stark difference from the bricked up ecumenopolis that’s actual soil is invisible from our sight. Grazing the plants of the lab; creepers, berries, wild weeds, grapevines, I unsheathed my Dagger with my left hand, coaxing the deepest, darkest desire of the Jedi Master the the surface.

EFREEEEEEEET… ASTRIIIIIIII…

To take things further, I slowly moved my Dagger to my right forearm, planting the sharp edge on my skin, dragging it across Efret’s name to make a crossing wound.


KORAH MATAH KORAH RAHTAMAH.

 
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She had his attention.


Direct Opponents: Jonyna Si Jonyna Si
Nearby Tags: Ryana mina Ryana mina | Arla Rodarch Arla Rodarch | Tulan Kor | Aether of the Iron Order Aether of the Iron Order | Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield | Kaleleon Kaleleon
Fighter Aces in Support: SCAR SCAR | Innis Tarring Innis Tarring | Daraho Arvyd Daraho Arvyd Eiric Ardos Eiric Ardos | Soontir Barvel Soontir Barvel | Electra-12 Electra-12 Imperial Arrow, Imperial Arrow!
Location: Fighting on and around the Temple Steps

Arla Rodarch Arla Rodarch 's unit @All Temple Entrance Alliance Ground Forces, and Every Shadow fighter ace.

Fifty, maybe even a hundred, of the Centaxian spearhead had fallen with barely a scratch on the steadfast defenders. Kethenite bodies piled high in what turned into a bloody and well-conceived slaughter at the entrance. The Shade of Keth looked on from afar with malicious satisfaction. Blocking the battle meditation at the entrance was a clever trick, but many of these spearhead forces were clones, and they adjusted back to their ingrained collective spirit with time.

Explosions, both concussive Javelin and from fighter aces, failed to dislodge the defender's well-fortified ranks. Giant Belroth the Breaker, a Centaxian Warlord leading the warriors, decided to do something incredibly reckless and perfectly Kethenite to push through the tough bulwark with his spearhead skirmishing force.

Sonic war drums beat from the rear; a dangerous choice had been made!

The warlord braced his men into layers of interlocking shield walls to withstand the storm of enemy guns mirroring the turbulent skies. They pressed forward but met such stiff resistance it was difficult to move even meters. The strikes of lightning devastated men holding fast.

@All Shadow Aces SCAR SCAR | Innis Tarring Innis Tarring | Daraho Arvyd Daraho Arvyd Eiric Ardos Eiric Ardos | Soontir Barvel Soontir Barvel | Electra-12 Electra-12

A lone operator in the rear called out positions and coordinates, desperately asking for support. "All Shadow Aces! Drop everything you have right on us! Imperial Arrow! Imperial Arrow!" He called for a broken arrow strike in front of the battered Centaxian cohort, asking for support in lethally close range. Do or die. Friend and foe alike would perish and burn, with only one man's judgment on coordinates and the shadow aces skills meaning the difference between their lives and deaths.

Upon the stained, bloody temple steps, the killing word "KETH" was screamed again into the annals of the soulscar this day, heralding the promise of the Long Conflict, consuming them down to the last man! All fuel for the fire to burn!

Spare no one!

Jonyna Si Jonyna Si

Drawn forward, his heavy boots took the ground as his own. Centax claimed more of her precious temple step. The Darth's confidence grew. A burning runic armor glowed brighter than ever in this violence. Staring her down over the shield of oaths promised and kept.

She drew another weapon, but before he could counter, she locked his blade, shot, and then struck true against his shield, shattering it into pieces and causing a low ringing in his ears. Centax surged with deep intensity, barreling into her with the ruins of the shield, slamming his metal boot down to shake her stance, and throwing what was left of the metal shards toward her body to gain room. His crimson weapon assumed a shii-cho grip and stance, rising angled up diagonally across his body to deny space to strike. But—

CLICK

His sonic weapon fired below, not at her gun, but at her preferred weapon. Once, twice, and three times, the Jack Knife, a rupturing concussive sonic blaster, echoed its violent history against Jedi. She held and struck her saber with faith and purpose. He would take it from her!

Jonyna had his attention; she deserved her death by his hand. Sacrifice for Sacrifice. What was she willing to lose? More of the ground she fought for? Her mother's weapon? Or her hand?

"Know this. Everything you are dies today." One piece at a time. Conflict, Certainty, Code.

Centax Gear:

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

OOC NPCs:

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.
 
Caporegime - Cyber-Intelligence Division



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Her hands scattered across the keys of the terminal and the heat of the plug in the back of her head was starting to increase along with the datapad in her hand. The motion sensor on her HUD was struggling to contend with all the movement in the area, just looking at it made the woman nervous about escaping, even worse was the possibility of being...

"Dedata, Someone is approaching." The VI warned her.
Tirin moved with the fluidity of a practiced operative as he approached the woman at the terminal. Though he often operated in tandem with Valin Zenth, today they were executing separate parts of their mission, each playing to their respective strengths in different locations. Their partnership was a dynamic alchemy of intellect and might—though it was often a playful toss-up as to who was truly the brains and who the brawn, as each excelled in areas the other found challenging.

As Tirin neared, a shimmering force barrier sprang to life around him and the woman, enveloping them in a protective cocoon that diffused the ambient light of the room. His arrival was nonchalant, yet his presence was immediately commanding, an effect that was only heightened by the serious undertone of his greeting.

"Hello. You're drawing some attention your way, you know," he remarked casually, a slight smile playing on his lips as he stood beside her. His tone was light, almost teasing, but the underlying message was clear: they were now in this together, whatever this situation might entail.

She couldn't move immediately to look around and hoped desperately that the person wouldn't try to pull her away. Her hand shifted from the terminal to the datapad. Dedata's fingers deftly navigated through the program displayed, searching for something that allowed her to write in Basic. "Thanks for the warning,
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" she typed, holding the screen up beside her head for the person to read.

Although she hadn't yet made eye contact, a sudden fear clawed at her mind. This fear was far from irrational; it was rooted in the memory of a knife piercing her head and the ensuing coma. The recollection of people approaching from behind exacerbated her anxiety. She brought the datapad back to her side and quickly typed a second message: "Don't stand behind me, makes me nervous
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"

Her written messages revealed that she was not entirely comfortable and her social skills were clearly lacking. Despite the clarity of her communication, it was evident that something about her behaviour was unusual, adding an extra layer of tension to the encounter. Despite how her emotional level was her focus was very well set on the task as her other hand not holding the datapad never stopped.

Unfamiliar words scrawled across the terminal that the woman was sat at. Though not impervious to comprehend language, what was written still made little sense as unique code displayed line after line.



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Mirialan - Celinie || Trandoshan - Vreen || Zebrak - Nebrosa || Twi'lek - Giza​

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Allies:
Neutral: Tirin Raene Tirin Raene , Valin Zenth Valin Zenth
Enemies: [Open!]
 
Location: Jedi Temple - Landing Platform
Tags: Valery Noble Detritus Ren Vorik Vorik Orwrex Orwrex
Equipment: Lightsaber Pike, Light Armor

After taking cover to call for aid, it took only a moment for Vorik to step out with his ranged weapon. Providing the smallest bit of covering fire, with both Orwerx and his droid coming out and waking up today with violence. Nodding my head, I stood expecting more blaster fire to be drawn toward my location, yet it was being drawn elsewhere. Screaming and yelling came from the other side of the platform. Detritus came out swinging. His own weapons and power within the force being used to great effect to draw fire from myself.

I knew exactly what to do from here.

My thumb pressing the button to make the long handled weapon to become a full length Pike. Using speed as my ally and the distraction of the other Knights of Ren to my advantage to cross the distance between myself and the troopers. A blink and you would miss it, the speed for which I moved with the force was one of my greatest strengths. Nearly looking like a teleportation of my body to be directly behind a group of the Soldiers.

The saber lunged out. Piercing through the back of the neck of a the first soldier. No sounds came from his frame as his vocal cords were torn through with a plasma blade. A rush forward, yanking the soldier behind me and moving inward to the others, A wide sweeping slash at the ankles. The blade slashing through three of them at once. The force thrown at them. Their bodies rag dolling over the top of the landing pad and down towards the city. Their screams of terror from falling echoed to their allies.

The rest turned to me. A threat among them and behind them. Speed once more being my ally to close the gap and pierce through the second man. The blade shutting off to be spun around and smacking with incredible force into the faceplate of another soldier. Hearing a crack, I capitalized upon it. Reaching out with my gauntleted hand to grab a hold of their head, and plunging it into the ground. A second crack and arms held up in a defensive position. If they weren't dead, they were knocked out with extreme brain trauma.

The final was taken out with a hand raising to them. Their body lifting from the ground, screams exploding from their throat as the armor around them crushed inward. Crumpling into a ball of soupy remains and metal. The body thrown through the door in which the group I had faced. My hand waving once more to close the entrance and the saber thrown to pierce through the controls. Keeping it shut for now.

"Fossk quadrant Secured."
 
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And the Thunder Rolled. And the Lightning Strikes.

The sound of the storm didn't let up. Cracks of Electricity struck down Imperial trooper and encroaching Tie alike. The Force was with them this day.

Jonyna was forced to step back as the shield pieces were thrown her way, but the job had been done. His weapon of defense was shattered, and now she could-

His sonic weapon fired below, not at her gun, but at her preferred weapon. Once, twice, and three times, the Jack Knife, a rupturing concussive sonic blaster, echoed its violent history against Jedi. She held and struck her saber with faith and purpose. He would take it from her!
Without a word, the space between them was emptied, a vacuum created as wind began to suddenly rush away from that small space. Sonic attacks needed air to pass through, and Jonyna would rob them of that. It only took the blink of an eye, before the man could even get his second shot off. The first though rattled her arm, and forced Jonyna to grip her mother's saber tight, as she weathered it.

"Know this. Everything you are dies today."
"You're right. The Rebel Knight dies today." She spoke with a chilling calm, as the rain pelted her fur. "I am no longer the woman who cowered in fear of Stormtroopers. I am the Eye of the Hurricane. The window into serenity, surrounded by heaven's wrath. The question is, will you survive it? The Fury of the Storm?" Somehow, her voice cut through the storm like a knife, being able to be heard as if she was right next to him.

As well as the sound of drums. The sound of tribal chanting. The sound of Cathar.

With the space now between them, the wind rushed back in, and Jonyna responded. Liz slipped back into it's sheath, as Jonyna rushed forward once more with blinding speed. He wanted to guard his chest with her saber. She would take that from him. With a single hand, she drew Sally, the blade of vardium steel and cortosis that had been the weapon she made all those years ago. Sitting in a scrap yard sifting through junk to make what would be a weapon she could use as a substitute for a Lightsaber. The edge aimed right at his saber's blade, she hoped she could disable the blade and strike true.

Simultaneously, she asked the earth a favor. A simple technique she had learned from her padawan turned knight. Ko Vuto Ko Vuto had always been more of an earth shaper, and training with him had enlightened her to many things.

The steps Centax was so invested in taking betrayed him. Shifting in form to a diagonal plane under him. Jonyna wanted to take his footing from out of him. The duelist in her knowing if she could, she'd leave him sliding back.

 
Before he saw any of her multiple eyes, before he heard her boots, he felt her approaching; her darkness lashed out at him. He took a breath, his body relaxing, what tension he'd felt before, melting off of his shoulders. Regardless of when, he knew that, eventually, he would've had to confront her, that the Force would've brought them together again. Better to do it now, whilst his resolve was strong. Her very being had often felt like a specter and wraith that had haunted his every step, even though her soft voice almost always sounded like a sweet music.

Her words about the din of battle almost being like a symphon was fairly correct. Raphael had known the sounds, since long before involving himself in the war. The firing of blaster rifles and pistols, the clash of durasteel blades forming the tenor, then the bass like boom of the explosions, finally punctuated with screams. None of it was wrong, but he delighted in none of it either. The loss of life was lamentable, and pitiable. The destruction was wrong and it left nothing but pain and grief in its wake. Such made for awful music.

When finally she peaked around the corner, eyes of honey gold staring at them both, he felt the runes at his neck break into flames. The feeling was like that of a horrible burning and the whispers and the voices began to pick up again. Despite the pain he watched her, with a rather neutral expression. He stood resolute alongside his other stalwart companion, despite the fear that he knew that they were both being struck by.

Unlike Gatz, who drew strength from someone elsewhere, Raphael's stance was firmly with his true master, Nyla Sallaros. There was a grim sense of determination from both men, however.

"And you know me, my former master; I'm not a hero, nor did I ever want to be. All I've endeavored to be was a better man than I was the last time. To let go of my pain, even when others have sought to inflict more upon me." A soft smile touched his lips, one of compassion, and of caring.

"There will, indeed, be no vengeance, not this day. Neither of us seek it. What we seek is to defend our home, and better still, if it can be resolved peacefully. Draw no blade or claw, and leave this Temple, please."

Gatz Derrevar Gatz Derrevar Adeline Noctua Adeline Noctua
 
Location: Coruscant, Jedi Temple - West Wing
Objective: Denounce the Evils of Truth and Love


Allies: Isar Isar
Enemies: Jenn Kryze Jenn Kryze | Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania


An explosion collapsed the corridor behind Jogon. Dust and debris rushed past him in a billowing cloud, though he barely seemed to notice. An idiot's gambit. Didn't they know a cornered animal fought twice as hard? They must have really thought they had a chance here. Jogon quickly found out why: more Mandalorians. The dog had pups. Nine in total that he could sense.
Their opening salvo was a flurry of explosives. Little wrist rockets, swarming birds, grenades, even a few missiles: all launched with signature Mandalorian impunity into the dust cloud. Some of them fired lasers. But for some reason nothing actually exploded. When the dust finally cleared, all of that ordnance remained suspended in the air. Paused. Intercepted. They shuddered under the yoke of the Force.
Jogon had a hand out, his face twisted into an awful grimace as he concentrated. There were a couple of scorch marks on his armor from where he'd already been shot by Jenn. It would hurt more later, when outside the nebula of the Dark Side. For now it was only a minor inconvenience.
"You assholes just don't get it," he grunted under the strain.
All at once, the collective munitions flung themselves back towards the Mandalorians which fired them. Unguided, they mostly slammed into walls and pillars, some into the floor. It was a suitable enough delay and distraction to allow the stormtroopers to advance to cover and begin returning fire. Good enough.
The idiot waving around a ukatian sword would be a problem, though. Jogon had never met a stormtrooper that knew what to do when swords were involved. It was a consideration Jogon would have to return to later: the lead Mandalorian landed right next to him and snapped out a lightwhip.
He raised an eyebrow. Not a Mandalorian weapon. Barely one fit for a Jedi. But here it was. The dashade was forced into a fighting retreat, just barely parrying each crack of the urumi until he could devise some kind of plan. Eventually one emerged, and he extended his guard at the last minute so that the blade of the lightwhip coiled around his own.
Then he yanked - either he'd rip the weapon out of Jenn's hands or bring her stumbling forward. Closer and easier to kill. Theoretically.
 
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Location: Coruscant Atmosphere
Objective: Strafe Jedi Temple
Call Sign: Nacheria Seven
Allies: SCAR SCAR Innis Tarring Innis Tarring Eiric Ardos Eiric Ardos Daraho Arvyd Daraho Arvyd Darth Centax Darth Centax Soontir Barvel Soontir Barvel
Relevant Enemies: Arla Rodarch Arla Rodarch Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield


A lone operator in the rear called out positions and coordinates, desperately asking for support. "All Shadow Aces! Drop everything you have right on us! Imperial Arrow! Imperial Arrow!" He called for a broken arrow strike in front of the battered Centaxian cohort, asking for support in lethally close range. Do or die. Friend and foe alike would perish and burn, with only one man's judgment on coordinates and the shadow aces skills meaning the difference between their lives and deaths.

Electra’s features shifted into a sneer beneath the unreadable stygian mask of her flight helmet as her wide, pink-hued gaze pored over the sensor readout on her display. In that respect, she quickly processed the implications of an Imperial Arrow. It was not a call that was ever given lightly, nor was it one that she could ignore due to the fact that it normally took precedence over other taskings. It went doubly so for her, since she was one of the closest craft available to respond. Thus, after engaging her abdominal muscles with instinctual ease, the Chiss slammed down on the throttle and twisted the control yoke, thereby whipping her TIE around in a violent, g-force-inducing dropkick turn that saw her vectored back towards the New Jedi Temple in a shallow dive from relatively high altitude.

“Shadow One, this is Nacheria vectoring back to execute Imperial Arrow, over.” Electra said over the squadron’s shared comm channel, her tone holding a cold fervor as she did. All the while, Electra gazed through her TIE’s sensor scopes, taking in the scene transpring on and around the Processional Way while another instance of her awareness kept abreast of her immediate surroundings. Indeed, the Centaxians were taking fire from two positions and likely suffering heavy casualties as a result.

Danger close, indeed.

“Targets tallied.” Electra transmitted to the Centaxian ground cohort. “ETA 10 seconds! Confirm effect on target.” The Chiss growled. With that, Electra steepened her dive and lined up her TIE’s chin-mounted quadruple array of heavy laser cannons on the target area, before quickly shunting power to her weapons.

“Death to this Jedi scum.” Electra hissed just as her fingers squeezed the triggers on her control yoke to unleash a salvo of viridescent hellfire from her craft’s rapid-fire heavy lasers onto the L-shaped ambush positions of Thirdas Heavenshield Thirdas Heavenshield and thereafter, the positions of Arla Rodarch Arla Rodarch , explicitly targeting a number of the Mandalorian Myrkava tanks on the rear sections of their hulls as she did. In only a couple seconds, fifteen laser bolts left her guns before the Chiss suddenly drew back on the control yoke, bringing her craft back up into an ascent in the wake of the attack run.

And just as she did, Electra registered the signature of what seemed to be a corvette as it drew in on her six, casting a metaphorical shadow over her comparatively tiny TIE in the process. Right on cue, Electra tensed her core muscles and threw her TIE into a sequence of defensive spirals as plasma bolts raced after her, before suddening cutting the throttle and activating her TIE’s FullStop braking thrusters. Suddenly, her machine decelerated in an effective instant, at which point the much larger and heavier exotic craft overshot her trajectory, giving the Chiss the opportunity to retaliate in kind.

Without hesitation, Electra squeezed the triggers, unleashing a burst of five green-hued laser bolts into the craft's hull, followed by a pair of dumb-fired proton torpedoes aimed to strike the creature in its rear dorsal section.


Craft: TIE/OTx Outlander
 
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The motes of light that webbed through the city behind them was a reminder that the fighting was not over. But the darkness that was meeting it could spell danger for the Alliance defensive. Normally, a direct attack was unlike Amani. She was mostly a defensive warrior, if not even further back in the lines playing medic instead. But they were here now, and someone needed to intervene. Otherwise, the Sith attack would simply continue unimpeded, or even bolstered by this dark battle meditation.

"Remember your training, and it won't matter," Amani said with a dry smile, approaching the entrance, "Move quickly, and efficiently. Don't give them a chance to rally."

She raised a hand, and the doors flung open and off their hinges at violent speeds, potentially striking any unprepared acolytes in range. The Jedi master ignited her saber pike, lighting the vicinity in radiant white, and rushed the nearest villain with a powerful thrust of the blade.
 
Marshal, Journeyman Protector

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Engaging : Warpost reply for Electra-12

Laserfire blasted the Mandalorians' position outside the Jedi Temple, and two of the Myrkava tanks erupted into fireballs as the airstrike chewed through their hulls. The infantry were somewhat dismayed by the strike, but continued to fight hard and hold the line. The enemy by now had reacted and reformed, and the battle was far more of an even contest. The enemy were wise to their tricks.

Incensed by the attack on the position she was protecting, Cammy had engaged with a vengeance against the little starfighter. Then, it hit the brakes, and she flew right by. The Mesen'lora's mind erupted into rage. Contemptuously, she used a singularity to eat the two torpedoes fired at her rear. Then, she held herself tightly together, increasing her structural integrity for what came next. "Okay, sugartits." The angry young sentient said, to herself and to the young man sitting in her cockpit, who was more than a little perturbed by her choice of language. He wasn't piloting, just observing today. This was all Cammy, and Vaar Rodarch was content to watch the show.

Cammy used a portside dovin basal to extend a singularity beyond herself. Short duration, existing only for several seconds, the intensive gravity well was more than enough for the Mesen'lora to whip herself around it in a full 180, coming back at the enemy fighter at full speed. She didn't bother to target weapons, she would just smash it with her hull.

Determined to end the threat with revenge, Cammy came back at the enemy fighter at full speed, having lost no velocity at all in her sharp turn, though Vaar didn't enjoy it much.

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Located at original position
400 - 380 remaining Infantry Battle Company Black Troopers
4 - 2 remaining Myrkava Tanks
6 Jetii'kotir
1 Marauder Mesen'lora

Enemies : Electra-12 Electra-12

 
Location: Coruscant, Jedi Temple - West Wing
Objective: To Protect the World from Devastation

Ally: Jogon Jogon
Enemies: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania | Jenn Kryze Jenn Kryze

The entrance behind Isar detonated and he felt a moment of fear and annoyance blended with the smug satisfaction of knowing he'd been right as a squad of mandalorians emerged from the bowels of the temple. Ha. He knew he had felt something off. A salvo of missiles, wrist-rockets, and blaster fire cut short his self-congratulations, promptly stopped by Jogon's display of prowess in the Force.

Huh. Neat.

The platoon of stormtroopers around Isar dove for cover, returning fire with small arms, screaming absurd military shit:

"CONTACT FRONT! CONTACT FRONT!

"Down, get down!"

"Fours, get on that squad weapon, suppressive fire now."

"My legs. I can't feel my legs."

And then someone started screaming straight into the line until they cut his mic.

Unbelievable.

Dismissively blocking glancing shots with twirls of his blue and purple lightsabers, Isar cut his own comms with the platoon. He couldn't listen to that shit in his ear this whole time. Needed to focus. Amidst the spice haze, he saw the Jedi in the Force. She hadn't moved other than to blow those charges, trapping them in here. Isar's mouth felt dry. He licked his lips.

A couple steps forward and he stood two meters away from Jogon, enough room for the lizard to swing his absurd crossguard saber.

Isar's attention focused in on the Jedi.

"These? Mine?" He held up the lightsabers, his words muffled through the helmet and din of explosions and blaster exchanges, "Why don't you come closer and find out."

He reached out again, not to punch into her mind, but to tug the thoughts out. He yanked on her emotions, pulling at threads of despair and suffering.

Let's see what makes you tick.

Empowered by the aura of the Dark Side flooding over the temple, his own innate abilities with telepathy, and the glitterstim flowing through his system, Isar began to siphon memories.
 



There, in the falling wreckage, the otherworldly being that was his apprentice, Välk, grabbed him, and ripped both of them through space to the sound of thunder. In the in-between, time didn’t exist: the moment both never happened and lasted forever. A shared memory, born into nothingness. On the other side, they carried a piece of the previous moment with them, crashing into the terrace with momentum. The Blasphemer’s body rebound and rolled on, stopped only by the railing at the end of the balcony. After all, he was a man. Bludgeoned by the fall, he slowly rose to his feet as he looked at Välk.

He had no love for the mortal, but he did place some value on the power he wielded. It entertained the Force Entity in a way.

"Master, can you walk? We need to keep moving."

Darth Ptolemis couldn’t read thoughts, but was a vigilant observer. As a vicious storm grew about the two Sith standing up there, in touching distance of the darkened sky, the Blasphemer senses something in his apprentice. A shade of… contempt. This Välk before him likely saved his life just a moment ago, the Blasphemer should be thankful. Be they were Sith; even the hint of disrespect boiled the blood of Ptolemis.

In a demonic outburst, he unleashed lightning from his fingertips, directed at the dark spirit. He did not intend to torture; he didn’t have the time. It was a fiery poker to the ribcage, a prodding shock to the temple, one that reminded the spirit of the flesh he occupied. The snaking winds between the towers of Coruscant carried his angered voice far.
- Do not think I can’t sense your defiance when you look at me, apprentice. - He turns to the side, gazing into the yawning chasm around them. His eyes settle on the Jedi Temple and the war that surrounds it less then a mile away. - There were some before you. Each ambitious. - He continues, cryptically, knowing well that this one is the most ambitious of them all. - Still, I remain. - The wind picks up as he takes a step back from the handrail. - We have wasted enough time. I won’t lose these holocrons a second time.

The Shadow Hand then raises his clenched right fist, nails drawing blood from his palm. He rends into the power of the Dark Side that taints the atmosphere. It floods his veins with corruption and strength. In the next moment he jumps, again and again, gliding between vast distances and outcroppings. Two of the Sith descending like vultures upon the Temple of the Jedi.

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Cordelia sat alone for a moment, the combat she had seen taking a toll on her system. The words of her Father haunting. There she sat as if in a tomb, and then she heard that message from the transmitter, rising up she snapped her new Jedi blade to life and raised it to cut the lie to pieces. Standing there as she was bathed in cyan light, and the hum soothed her soul, she decided it was time to move on. The way forward was barricaded, and so she had to go back to the Foundation, and face whatever was there.

Making it to the ledge, she looked down at a fresh batch of Sappers.
They are relentless!
She reached with her hand and made on twitch and cover another in lava, there was some confusion. A thermal detonator was held in the hand of dead trooper, she took it and armed the weapon, throwing it down. There was a great explosion and gust of wind with smoke that rose. The Daughter of Ashla waited for it to clear, the Sappers we destroyed. She wondered if she shiuld remain her and keep wiping out these droids, it at least served a purpose in defending the temple, then again, last time a Dark Acolyte was sent after her, and she had prevailed barely.

The greater wisdom was to return to the upper levels of the Temple, where some allies may still be. Her mission to save Younglings was complete, and the Sapper thwarting had bought some time. Cord began the climb, rising up the circles of walls and ledges, she had jump between gaps, and she almost fell, hanging by fingers, dangling. She pulled herself up, and used The Force as her ally, “and a powerful ally it was.”

She now was she at the hall that lead to the damaged elevator shaft, which meant she had to climb inside and use ladders and cords to ascend, fortunately the elevator has been disabled by that Sapper, so there was no threat of being smooshed. But as Cordelia climbed there was a sound as she rised, blaster fire And crackling kyber. The invaders must have breached the upper levels. Reaching a door to one of main great halls, she ignited her saber and cut it open, creating a molten line that once coolef she pried opened and saw a Dark Empire Maraunder fighting several Guards, his twin sabers sweeping around as he cut one Guard down and moved in on the other two. Taking opportunity, Cord leapt into the fray, swinging her blade, which waa caught by his purple blade:


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He turned in his Alchemic armor, his red eyes fixing on her. Cord let out a grunt ws she broke the lock up, the two guards with yellow blades joined her, the he three strikes as one, Cord trying to take her place in this dance, The Marauder cackling as he mover with menance, he dug a blade in the throat of one guard that fell, their saber deactivating as it rolled on the blue carpet floor.

The remaining Guard peered through his mask at Cord and said,
“Cease hostilities! Fly! Fly away!”

His warning was followed by a blade piercing his chest cavity and then The Marauder swept both blades like scissors to decapitate the Guard. He then turned his full attention to Cord,
“I can feel it.. your anger.. you have used it before.. and yet now you choose to hide it.. your only chance to beat me is to use it!”

He lunged, and she caught his two blades, the crackling echoing in the great hall, sparks showering the long loose carpet on marble, and the blades whining as they twisted against each other. The Marauder broke the lock up and thrusted both blades like great fangs, Cordelia doing a cartwheeled backwards evaded them. She then took his hilt with both hands and made a pose of confidence,
The Force is my ally! I am One with The Force! And The Force is One with me!

The Marauder chuckled,
“Cute mantra.. but its just words.. The Force is a tool, use it and win or join the dead!”

He lunged and she parried both blade, and then reached with s free hand fo call a bust of some Jedi Sage to fly at him which he cut to pieced, she then made more fly at him as she said,
You face all the Jedi!

One hit the back of his metal helm and made him growl.
“Enough games girl! Now you die!”

He charged at her with both blades and swept them in circles ready to dice her, when she pulled up the carpet and him lose his footing, she then wring the carpet to direct him right through thr grrst window, which was on either side of them. His heavy armor made him plummet, and she lost sight of him. She then leapt up and in spin with her deactivated ligjtssber hikt in hand,
Oh yeah! Its great to be a Jedi! I mean.. whatever.

She then made her way into Greater Hall where fighting had broken out. She tried to see if there was anyone she could assist, there was some troopers pinned behind pillars, she began to dash towards a E-Web cannon firing at them from a covered position, leaping up she lit her kyber and cut the great barrel in teo and swept her tip to the gunner’s neck,
Surrender or I will do my worst!
She was beginning To get the hang of this hero thing, it felt good to be on the side of the right, fighting these creeps from Dark Empire. She wished Balun Vale Balun Vale could see her so triumphant, kicking butt and taking names in the Jedi Way, even if she was not officially one. The truth is in this battle she was seeing the difference, the brotherhood that the Order had, trying at all costs to save each other. That was foreign to her, save with Balun.. it had been the thread that had begun her path to a new life…
 
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Yay: Jenn Kryze Jenn Kryze
Nay: Jogon Jogon | Isar Isar


The doorway and adjoining wall behind the Sith was reduced to rubble, but thanks to Jogon's irritating prowess, their surprise Mandalorian assault was redirected back from whence it came. Blaster fire erupted around them, amplified by the hallowed, high-arched ceilings of the temple.

For the second time, the lightsaber-wielding trooper beckoned her forward. For the second time, Cora did not move.

Isar was not subtle. With his natural abilities amplified by the Dark, she could not shut him out entirely. She grimaced as he pulled at the wiring of her mind, yanking out bits and pieces of formative memories.

He'd be struck by the stifling feeling of her corset on her wedding day, restraining the air from her lungs.

The sight of a fire crackling pleasantly in its hearth in the corner of her husband's study, viewed from the floor.

The scent of mildew, stale and pungent, as she sat in a cell beneath the Ukatian royal palace, awaiting execution.

These memories weren't whole; they were glimpses, clips that lasted only a moment and had little to no context.

Cora's jaw set, gritting her teeth together tightly. It was hard to try and remain unaffected and serene when there was a war going on around you, and when some guy had his grubby metaphorical fingers hooked into your brain.

Jenn's ethereal voice brought her focus back into the moment. She clamped her mental defenses down onto the Dark Jedi's probing digits, hoping to catch them, to chase him away.

"Ungentlemanly behavior." She scoffed, extending a hand toward Isar. From the collapsed wall, a chunk of debris the size of his head trembled, then launched at the Dark Jedi from behind.
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VIPER
PASSAGEWAYS | CORUSCANT
ALLIES: Kaleb Sunwalker | Sinestra | Ibaris Varanin | Malva'ikh Dralidok Malva'ikh Dralidok | Aphon | Prowler | Sahar | Vorm | Creuat | @whatDSEamImissing? | DE
ENEMIES: GA
ENGAGING: Stennis Fel Stennis Fel
GEAR: Armour | Lightsaber | Pistol | Vibroblades | Vibroknife | Grenade loadout

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REVELATIONS

Of course he wouldn't be dispatched of so easily.

Iron doesn't bend.

Fate had a cruel sense of humour to pit her against one of her own - Rurik or not. She had been presented with the hardest choice in her almost 50 years - become a true Oathbreaker and kinslayer or completely submit to his will and mercy?

Not that she had time to make the choice.

A strike toward her neck forced her blade to meet it to at least win some time for herself. But she failed to avert the true intent. An armored fist hit her square in her core. Completely winded, she was driven back against the wall. She met the steely gaze behind the mask with a defiant hazel one as she subtly gasped for air.

"You march under the banner of the demon. The very same who slew him at Tython. The very same who brought about the Empire's destruction...and so you see his will done...and so you must die."

Her eyes flashed dangerously and before he could even lift his saber for another swipe at her head, her metallic hand shot out to strike him square in the masked face to try and force some space between them before stumbling away from the wall to get her blade up properly.

His words had finally clicked the final piece into place.

"And yet, I am in a better position to achieve the goal he never could." she spat, her breath better but still trying to regain it fully. She now knew she wasn't dealing with Rurik, but rather his son. She remembered his voice from his time in training, quite a while before she moved along with Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan 's remnant. "Were you never taught the art of infiltration, boy?" She readied herself for any movement from his side.

She would gladly kill Jedi and even Sith, but a Knight wasn't on that list. Least of all the heir to the man she followed even before he became Emperor. But she wouldn't roll over and die either. She separated her blade into two.
"I still strive for order. Can you as a Jedi sycophant say the same?" she sneered.

She knew he wouldn't just let her go, so she shot forward again in a blur, at the last minute changing direction to rather strike low toward a knee with one blade instead of going high. The other blade was held defensively for whatever strike he would aim at her before sliding past and to her feet again.

The Inquisitor then immediately took off in the direction of the exit toward the Room.

 
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Location: Coruscant Atmosphere
Objective: Kill the Machine-Beast
Call Sign: Nacheria Seven
Allies: SCAR SCAR Innis Tarring Innis Tarring Eiric Ardos Eiric Ardos Daraho Arvyd Daraho Arvyd Darth Centax Darth Centax Soontir Barvel Soontir Barvel
Relevant Enemies: Arla Rodarch Arla Rodarch

The unknown, exotic craft moved not with the precision of a machine, but rather, with the predatory, chaotic grace of a living creature. That said observation was immediately evident as the Mesen’lora whipped around a full 180 degrees before racing back towards Electra’s TIE at full tilt, having lost effectively no speed in the process. In turn, the Chiss vectored her starfighter head-on towards the enemy craft, before initially jinking her craft to port and thereafter (perhaps in an unexpected fashion) rolling to starboard in a violent, slicing break turn, putting close to maximum g-force on her TIE in the process.

In effect, a feint.

All the while, Electra felt her stomach turn as the hard maneuver taxed her body. Nevertheless, the Chiss quickly gritted her teeth and reigned in her breathing before pressing on. Whatever this craft was, it was self-evidently dangerous, doubtlessly a threat to any TIE. In that regard, it had swallowed her missiles and her laser fire had ricocheted off, leaving the creature thus far unharmed. Nevertheless, if only out of the primal desire to survive, Electra grunted and pushed her TIE through the break turn, the descending slice quickly turning into an ascending pitch as she increased her altitude and vectored towards the rear of the flying machine-beast in an aggressive pure pursuit curve.

In spite of the fact that her previous attacks had been seemingly negated, Electra moved to strike again, out of the instinctive knowledge that no manner of shield, no matter how exotic or advanced, could endure under fire forever. Thus, the Chiss squeezed the triggers on her control yoke with renewed fury, casting forth a rapid-fire salvo of seven viridescent laser bolts aimed to strike the Mesen’lora in its aft, all discharged within the span of a second. At the same time, a pair of advanced concussion missiles rushed out from the launchers, locked onto the same area. However, rather than exploding on impact (to then be swallowed by the shields), Electra had set the fire control systems to detonate the warheads within very close proximity of the target, with the aim of imparting a brutal concussive shock that might rip the machine-beast apart.


Craft: TIE/OTx Outlander
 
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The Light of Ashla , Champion and Avatar of Ashla
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Information
Objective: Protect the Jedi Temple
Location: Jedi Temple, Coruscant
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (weapons) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Arla Rodarch Arla Rodarch | Closed
Tags: Open
"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>


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Eina continued to chant, not stopping for a moment. She knew full well that if she stopped, the effect would be broken and her allies would once again be under the power of Darth Vinaze. And she couldn't let that happen. In this semi-meditative state, as she continued to grip the spear in both hands, she was almost oblivious to the rain beating against her armour, the rain dripping down her face and her hair getting soaked. Even the gusts of wind felt only very distant, as if something were caressing her face, though it was nothing of the sort.

The former Valkyrja could only hope that someone would help her when she sensed the enemy moving towards her. If not, she knew she was likely to sustain very serious injuries at best; at worst, the enemy would kill her. But during the chant, she again felt the emptiness in the Force, the coldness of ice. The Force Dead person, and surprisingly, it was she who came to Eina's aid. Although she couldn't really concentrate on what was happening outside while chanting and concentrating, she could sense a little bit of what was happening and she could also sense that the other woman was now standing in front of her, at least by the sound of her voice. Protection; well, yes, the angel-winged woman knew she hadn't chosen the best place to be.

Eina, like most L'lerim, had a high intelligence and was skilled enough to speak both verbally and telepathically. It was for this reason that the Light of Ashla was able to send a telepathic message to Arla while chanting. She knew that a portion of the Force Dead were immune or even highly resistant to Force abilities, so she used her innate telepathy and not the Force-based one. Either way, she wanted to thank the Mandalorian woman for saving her life.

~ Thanks for your help, stranger. If you can no longer protect me, then shake me or push me and I will know that there is danger and that the support of others can no longer be maintained. ~ she "said" to the other.

Eina has not had many good experiences with the Mandalorians; their first major encounter was when the Mandalorian Enclave attacked the Eternal Empire and Panatha. But she didn't have very pleasant memories of them in the Netherworld either. When she took souls to Manda; the Manda was always hostile with the former Valkyrja, even when she was a Valkyrja and afterwards, when she was Ashla's Avatar. The Manda had always wanted to fight and refused to accept her peaceful advances. So, whenever she could, Eina tried to avoid the part of the Netherworld where the Manda, or Oversoul, was to be found.

Meanwhile, the chant continued, still with elements of the Valkyrja, but also with parts of prayers that Ashlan worshippers might be familiar from their prayers. Eina asked Ashla and the Light for help against the forces of Bogan.

~ Who are you?~ she asked the other woman again telepathically during the chant.

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Director of SHADES, Torture and Interrogation Officer
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Information
Objective: Capture a Jedi
Location: Near to the Jedi temple, Coruscant
Equipment: 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || Empyrean gland || OPBC-01m
Tags: Kazian Blackwood Kazian Blackwood | Open
Writing With: Katherine Holt Katherine Holt | Closed
"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>


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When the shots came to where the winged woman was, she fell from the pillar in the opposite direction. I didn't know if I hit her, but she fell. Cautiously, still holding my pistols, I started to walk in her direction, but at that moment the woman appeared from behind the pillar, lightsaber in hand, and flew straight in my direction. If I had had time to do anything other than defend myself or dodge, I probably would have laughed at that moment. Theoretically they were supposed to be the keepers of peace and order to maintain it, and then they immediately attack by wanting to kill someone.

I regretted a little bit that I never really learned to fight with a lightsaber, and I didn't have such exotic weapons. Now I also regretted a little bit that I didn't have regular physical ammunition in my pistol, but energy cells. That was much easier to avoid with a lightsaber. But time was running out, and in the worst case, it would redirect my attacks back at me with her lightsaber. As the young woman flew at me with great speed, I aimed the pistols at her head. I fired the smoothbore at her first, shooting towards her wing, hoping to get her to try to deflect it with the lightsaber. Then, barely a heartbeat later, I pulled the trigger of the pistol in stun mode.

After that, not knowing what result to expect, I immediately tried to jump out of the way, but the blade was too long, she was coming too fast, and I was too late to dodge the shots. True, thanks to the Force, I had good reflexes, but if I had moved and jumped to the side just a moment later, the lightsaber would have stabbed me in the centre of the chest. So now it only burned along the edge of my armour, although it didn't tear it open yet, but it heated the metal enough to cause my skin under the armour to suffer severe burns where the armour was damaged and hot.

I cried out in pain and had to clench my teeth, but after the roll I got up immediately, at least half a knee up in the direction of where the winged woman was. I know Force users are very fast thanks to the Force, but now I was hoping to get a few shots at her before she attacked again. Just to be safe, I also set the stun mode to live fire and tried to keep firing at my opponent with both pistols. I hoped I would hit her at least once. But if I don't, I won't despair, I'll think of something to do about it. I still had tricks I could use.

"Surrender and I'll let you live!" I ordered the other woman.

Well, at least it wasn't a lie, it was the truth. I needed a prisoner alive, I needed that information...

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| Location | The Jedi Temple
| Objective | The bigger they are... the harder they hit, damn!


There was a moment of stupefied horror when the dust cleared, letting the fearsome Nite Owls realize just why none of them registered the satisfying chorus of explosions they had been hoping to cause. The warriors of beskar just... stared, digesting the sheer magnitude of their fuckup. Their reliance on shock and awe tactics was biting them in the ass a lot harder than they thought it possibly could have.​
<Oh, blast>, uttered Karrys on the squad's comms, a mere second before the Dashade sent the explosives flying right back to their senders, the series of explosions completely throwing the warriors off-balance; those already in the air managed to use their jetpacks to avoid the barrage of explosives sent right back in their face, but those with their boots on the ground were not so nimble. They did the best they could; namely, by throwing themselves down in an attempt to avoid being caught in the explosive radius, to say nothing of the falling debris.​
Not all of them were this fortunate. A scream of pain alerted the rest of the squad to the predicament Ko'ren found herself in; the heavy gunner had been caught at the edge of the blast radius of one of their missiles, sending her right into a wall- only for a large piece of intricate stonework to fall down and crush her leg. Moving in unison, five of the Owls laid down heavy covering fire, allowing Yngvi and Karrys to jetpack their way over to their friend to start helping her-​
All the while Pollux caused chaos in the ranks of the stormtroopers, moving from one foe to the next in a blur of steely death; one slit throat here, an impaled trooper there, a double decapitation when a group of them tried to bog him down with numbers. Parry, riposte, counter-attack; his skill as a blademaster was made evident in the corpses left in his wake, a unique blend of Ukatian and Mandalorian swordfighting carrying him to victory!​
For now, at least.​
Jenn, for her part, could not afford to focus on the actions carried out by her Nite Owls; to divert but the slightest shred of attention from her foe would only bring her death and defeat. Few warriors were capable of withstanding the onslaught of elegant strikes unleashed in rapid succession, and yet her foe held his own! In another life, she would have enjoyed fighting him, perhaps even complimented his form - but not in this one. He was an agent of Darkness, where she served the Light, if in her own way; there could only be one victor in this, and another left to page the wage.​
Then, the inevitable happened. The initial shock of her overwhelming assault passed, and her foe adapted to her exotic weapon and fighting style. That sudden, powerful yank marked the end of her elegant steps; the otherworldly grace with which she carried herself during a duel had its limits, and the Dashade had just found it.​
With so many exposed spots where no beskar protected her, it would only take a single motion of a lightsaber to end her tale for good. She did not have the luxury of fancy footwork nor song, and so she acted on instinct.​
Aiming to grab at her foe's clothing with her free hand to support herself, Jenn pulled her head back, and, in perhaps the boldest (or dumbest, depending on who you might ask) decision of her life, she sent it forth in a headbutt.​
Here goes nothing!
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| Friendly | Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania
| Hostile | Jogon Jogon Isar Isar
 

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

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As expected, the cyborg was not finished yet. The enemy he was facing was no standard machine but a made to last killer who could take even the strongest of blows and reply in kind.

Upon his order, the crew of the evac ships began preparations to finally set off. Soldiers and medics alike were still running around, so much so that some of them were caught in the crossfire of the cyborg trying to blast itself out of the ruins "Troopers! Form on me!" the knight shouted as two troopers on either side lined up "On my mark, we pepper that thing with all we can while those ships blast off. Got it?!" In unison, the troopers nodded and raised their weapons toward the ruined building.

More people had fallen from her wild blaster shots, and before long she had finally forced the front of the building in front of them to collapse inward. Pointing his saber, he finally gave the command "Fire!" all at once they began to fire into her body to slow her down. It was uncertain how much she could take, but from how much they had shot her already it was seemingly quite a lot.

At the same time, Silas quickly used the force to grab hold of a steel pillar and fling it directly into her chest. Once the ships had left with all the injured Jedi and troopers he was going to take care of her once and for all.

 
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