Invasion Duracrete Jungle | BOTM Invasion of GA Held Metellos

[Aiden Porte]

Allies-GA- Briana Sal-Soren Luric Ee'everwest
Enemies-Maw- Darth Wallgof
Equipment- Armor - Lightsaber


Aiden looked over to Luric and showed him a small smile. "Of course my friend." Aiden responded easily enough as the stench of darkness lay just ahead of them. A cloud of darkness blanketed the area in front of them as the the source of light pushed through towards the source. A body was thrown just before them, the Jedi was dead for a few minutes already. Aiden gave the man a foul look then glanced back towards the body as a look of remorse crept over his face just briefly. The Jedi Padawan knelt down as he extended his hand towards the body as it rose a few inches above the ground and was set gently before the Padawan. His hand rose to the eyes of the fallen Jedi and closed them.

"Rest easy my friend. Let the light guide your way." The Padawan whispered as he stood up and with barely a raise of his fingertips the the body had once again rose and moved towards the side, away from the others. Aiden glanced towards the Sith as he spoke of Briana and even Brandyn whom Aiden had known, he was a friend of his. "You are not worthy to speak either of their names, Sith. Faithless......" Aiden spoke as got into a ready stance, his face turning from remorse to a more hardened look. The Jedi Padawan's hilt went into his right hand and the green blade came to life. His left hand reaching out slightly preparing by use of the force for whatever the jerk standing before them had in store.

 

[Westenra Mina]

Lynda was beside herself as she butchered Mawites, beheading and bisecting them without hesitation, even as she leaked glowing red blood from the cuts she sustained...cuts that were quickly starting to seal up.

She was a creature drenched in blood and gore. Slathered in it. Her flesh shuddered disgustingly as she metabolized the energy she had stolen.

Bloodshot eyes flicked to Zachariel Steelblood , advancing to her in an unworried manner.

Her bloody sword, the Katana Five Rings, dripped red, slick with the viscera of those who would dare fight for the Dark Three in her presence.

Black metallic like fangs retracted into her upper skull as she watched him advance.

He didn't say anything. She didn't say anything.

Her organic databases had plenty to say upon sighting an Infamous Maw Warlord:

KILL!KILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILL
KILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKLLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLBUNNYKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLICOUNDN'TSAVETHEMKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLSHEWASCRUSHEDBYRUBBLESHEWASTHREEANDICOULDN'TSAVEHERKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLTRAPPEDTRAPPEDTRAPPEDITSDARKITSDSRKLETMEOUTOHGODLETMEOUTKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLTURTLEKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLELIMINATEDESTROYKILLTHETARGETKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLMEKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILL--

She broke into a dead charge at unnatural speed, a bloodied face not even snarling, not even bothering with an expression of rage. She didn't remember where she was. She didn't even remember there were other mawites present. She had forgotten what she had been doing seconds prior. She had forgotten how she had even gotten here.

All she wanted to do was butcher the big one and eat his mind energy, then crush his skull afterward.

One little sound escaped as she approached. A small one, faint. Almost impossible to catch with the roar of battle.

A almost inaudible, primal hiss, reptilian almost.

Her sword swung to meet his axe, embracing pure savagery, it's blade tinged with blood, Charged with the energy of the victims it had slain, increasing it's cutting power to the point where it had an immense chance of being able to damage Alchemized Materials...

No words. Just pure, murderous, unflinching hate in her attack, expressed more through a faint, half second glance right into his eyes than some grandiose contortion of her facial muscles.

 

[Khamul Kryze]

The Unchained

Engaging: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam

Le Manu

The Crusader flew forth with great purpose, only stopping to address the Demon Mand'alor as he came into earshot. Khamul had been made aware of the Empress' capture shortly before the Maw came to the planet, and though he saw her value as a prisoner, his preference would have been her immediate execution. But The Wrath of the Maw had other plans, and Khamul would leave him to his devices.

He stopped in the air for a moment as well, suspended by the roar of his jetpack as he stared down his quarry. His rage had already begun to fester deep within him, and through that rage he called upon the darkness, drawing it into him in a torrent of pure anger.

"I care not for your wants, Crusader. I am merely here to set right the wrongs upon Panatha. You should not be alive."

The hatred spewing from his mouth was palpable, his rage beginning to boil over as he summoned Mandalore's Lament to his hand.

SNAP-HISS...

The blade shot to life as he remained in place, staring down the Valkyrja as he readied himself for the inevitable fight.

"Do not fear... once you're dead, your mother will be soon to follow. Then you can spend the rest of your lives in the next world!"

His arm reached out, launching several whistling birds from his vambrace. He didn't expect them to do much to his foe, but they would allow him a moment to close the gap. He propelled himself forward, flying through the air as he followed the path of the whistling birds. Mandalore's Lament lashed out, cutting horizontally as he attempted to cleave her in two.

 

[Nal'Khem Szat]

Location: The HellWell

Engaging: Daisy Masudo, Aaran Tafo, Jasper Kai'el

Navras

The scent of the Light's stench drew ever-closer as the Lord of Whispers quietly pressed toward the foolish lambs. His hand reached for his blade, drawing it from within the folds of his dark robes. His footsteps were quiet, almost as if he wasn't touching the ground beneath his feet. His calm, silent movements had made others uneasy around him. When surrounded by power-hungry individuals liable to stab each other in the back, it was natural to wish to see the knife coming. Yet, Nal'Khem had little use for such low blows. He preferred to stare into his opponent's eyes as the life drained from them, reveling in the freedom he would bring them in their death. A return to the silence, freeing more space for the whispers to fill the air...

He could see them now, a trio of would-be heroes on a quest for their precious Light. What they believed they could achieve, he knew not, but they would have to be purged from this life all the same. The Lord of Whispers never took much stock in heroics. Such actions were often fueled by the will to lay down one's life, a prospect he never understood. After all... what point was sacrifice when there were so many mysteries yet to be unraveled in the galaxy?

His blade came to life with an etherial snap-hiss, its black and smoky purple blade humming calmly at his side as he made his presence known.

"Three little lambs... approaching the slaughter..."

His blasphemous gaze seemed to almost look through them, as if they weren't even there. His tone was soft, almost unsettling so. He never cared for grand shows of heated rhetoric, despite his station within the priesthood. Those that spoke the loudest were often the ones to least fear, and Nal'Khem fed off of fear.

"I would say that you should turn back, though I'm my words would fall on deaf ears. So... I am afraid that your only option..."

He raised his lightsaber, holding it in front of his pale face as he spoke.

"is death."

 

[Aveline Cuiléin]

Allies: Iris Arani
Enemies: Rannan Kol
Equipment: Lightsaber, Jedi jumpsuit, cosaint bracers, meditation amulet

​

Hello, Jedi

Oh no. Not good.

Aveline was flung towards the side, barely managing to grab hold of something overhead to keep herself from toppling over. What was supposed to be a pleasant journey flying over corpse valley became something more thematically appropriate. Unfortunately for the two Jedi.

The first thing Aveline did once she realized what was going on was to make an effort in throwing up the mental barriers and shields she had been taught at the temple. It wouldn't guarantee success, but at least it would keep her from being hit without warning.

Meanwhile Iris took charge of the situation. At first Aveline had thought she'd cut the pilot down, but he seemed alive and not parted into two. A lightsaber with a stun setting? News to Aveline, but no time to dwell on that! While Iris secured the ship, Aveline launched herself towards the controls. This was her element. She was a skilled pilot, and once upon a time a lieutenant in the Silver navy.

This wasn't quite the starfighter she was used to flying, but she prided herself on being able to operate just about anything that could float. "We're coming in hot!" For all her skill, however, she was not a magician. She could keep them from going down in flames, but that was about all that was left to her after the chaos the pilot had thrown them into.

There were Sith gathering like vultures, ready to pounce on the anticipated crash... Instead, before straightening the vessel, Aveline fired off two concussive missiles in their general direction. Through smoke and rock she pulled the ship up, slowing down its immense speed to climb up from the death trap, towards what she sensed was the very source of this chaos.

"Prepare for a rough landing" although they both knew that it was what came after that would be the real struggle. Aveline would do the best she could in taking them as close as possible the dark pit within the Force she sensed.

 

[Phalsi Drynchen]

TROUBLE COMES KNOCKING
Objective: Objective I - Depths of Hell - Post 3
Equipment: Under-Armor, Quiet Riot Armor With Gas Backpack, The Encoil, Zerek Stowaway Node, ICE/iBorg Clarion Personal Translator
Weapons: Four Zenji Needles, Pair of Blue Lightsabers, 1 Hard Light Weapon, 2 Shock Whips
Ship: Shadowfire
Tags: Dominik Borra | Caraxes Xargrodon​

She definitely understood the displeasure of leaving things alive that shouldn't. Her own organizations doctrine was a strict one that wasn't swayed by hearts or reason. The rules were as such, and to stray from them meant a mark that would remind you of one's duty to uphold the rules.

"Oh lovely, did they give you a little hug jacket launcher? Granted I've got about the best setup for non-lethal but like...these are big bads." She was likely preaching to the choir on the matter, and made her own stance somewhat clear on the matter.

"Should have just let a seismic level this and cleaned up after." Her own perspective as they moved before he mentioned dropping blue from their callsigns.

The adjustment to their callsigns noted, the woman did little more than shrug. Her vision adjusted itself for the limited light as the drew closer to their goal.

The chanting was audible from almost every direction depending on how one cared to listen. But what caught her attention the most was the voice that seemed to come closer with intent. She listened with a frown before the comm line buzzed into life. The Annunciator shut off before she spoke back, letting the Camouflage System of her suit pick an appropriate pattern as she confirmed their plan.

"Couldn't tell you what the Maw teaches their force users. It's dark but I wouldn't count to much on that working against them." She informed him before debating which weapon to wield against what sounded like a saber.

Her voice still didn't escape her helmet as she mumbled to herself.

"Guess nows as good a time as any." Resignation came as she readied the short handled hilt without turning it on. She hadn't drawn them without intent to kill. And even paired with a number of her other weapons it felt like a certain thing.

Drawing the hilt close, she snuck through the dark, keeping herself to the shadows and doing her best to let the Taozin Skin Nodule in her suit hide her force presence.

She waited to see the priest or sith, or whatever the Maw called them as she prepared to engage after Contractor opened fire.

 

[Aldric Laurent]

Valery Noble | Darth Nemris
​

For the briefest moment, Aldric actually believed he might have just saved them all the trouble. That the Sith would go down in a single shot, unceremoniously ending this fight before it began. But it was never that easy, and as soon as he recognized that the beam of energy was frozen mid-air, Aldric knew he was out of his league. "Well… damn."

Thankfully, Valery was not. She strode onward with all the confidence one would expect from the Sword of the Jedi, even as dust and debris altered the playing field. Even Aldric was fooled for another moment, before remembering the gift she had given him, "Been waiting for a chance to use these," He muttered, pulling out a pair of inconspicuous sunglasses. Clicking a small button on the side, he activated a heads-up display that allowed him to shift the lenses into infrared. The world was recolored in purples, reds, and yellows, exposing both the Jedi and the Sith.

"Gotcha," Aldric steadied his aim once more, waiting for Valery to strike. After she did, and was out of his way, he took another shot at the Sith.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Close to the HellWell
Enemies: Silas Westgard
Allies: Maw


Kyrel was like a vicious predator that had cornered his prey. He was on the hunt, or to say that he himself had allowed the Jedi to hunt him. He would love nothing more than to see the destruction of the world with the army of the undead unleashed from the HellWell. Millions of tortured souls were crying out for the Avatars salvation, and through that salvation they in turn would serve Kyrel and the Maw. Destroying such enemies that had long since plagued them.

Kyrel would stalk through the dark corners of the underbelly. The chants seemed to echo along the walls, and his heavy footsteps would only add to the increased eerie tension that was approaching the group of Jedi. Kyrel fashioned a bloody smirk, he hadn’t faced Silas in a while. He often wondered if the boy simply thought he was lucky to have escaped the Wrath’s own grasp, or had he not realized that it was by Kyrel own hand that the boy was allowed to leave his dreadful warship.

He could hear whispers, and voices. His slow stride only quickened after that. Just as a predator did he savored the hunt before going in for the kill. The Maw’s Wrath was drawn in by the fear that had permeated his own surroundings, and had even threatened Kyrel to go into a murderous frenzy. He did his best to try and compose himself, as he didn’t want to unleash all of his dark energy so soon.

Soon the hulking brute of a Mawite warrior had seen the group of Jedi before him. His crimson blade only provided what little illumination against the large silhouette of Kyrel’s form. He stood over them as if he was a massive giant. His blade lowered he started to scan the nervous, and even horrified looks on the Jedi’s own faces. With the boy seeming indifferent to the Master of Ren. “Well, this is a unexpected surprise. A group of Jedi just sneaking through the dark underbelly of this Duracrete Jungle just to stop us?” He would let out a deep and unsettling laugh that would chill an ordinary beings bones.

“Tell me which one of you will have the honor of being my first meal?” He said with a bloody toothed grin towards the group. Slowly the Master of Ren would raise his saber hand up slowly. Through the darkness of his visor they could sense the deadly intent that Kyrel was prepared to unleash upon them all. Waiting carefully to see what they’re next move is.

 

[Rannan Kol]

Objective 1
Allies: Brotherhood of the Maw;
Enemies: GA; Iris Arani Aveline Cuiléin
Equipment: The Dark Sacraments, Apostles Vestments, Ring

---

The Explosions caused by the missiles would rip up duracrete sending shrapnel and debris in all directions. There were bodies flung, reduced to a red mist or pulp.

A Path was cleared for the Transport to come down hard though. It was a small silver lining for the passengers if no one else.

Despite the area cleared by the explosions the Sith, especially the Acolytes that accompanied the Dark Apostle were undeterred. Death was merely part of the journey after all and the dead were now bonded with the Void, capable of experiencing a state of nothingness that others in their cadre would envy them for. To die was to be elevated to a state that the living could only imagine. Even Kol, who commanded the Acolytes as an Apostle of the Void longed for the embrace of death though he was not so willing to throw himself into knowing he could better serve his Master as one of the living for now.

When the Transport came down the Sith had instinctively retreated away from it, withdrawing from the crash site close to the HellWell before advancing again.

In the background, behind many of the Acolytes Kol still stood with fingers entwined together before him. The Apostles Vestments were stock still on his frame though they, like he radiated with a connection to the darkside. Energies swirled around him, marking him as the epicenter for a torrential storm of power waiting to pulse outwards.

Though Kol looked distant on the battlefield he was actually quite involved.

Inside the downed Transport while those jostled by the crash recovered their minds were weak and weary. It would come one at a time, a Commando looked up with a glazed over expression not unlike the one that had been worn by the Pilot and one of his Comrades earlier…

"You've survived."​

…the same disembodied voice came from the Commando, his and yet not at the same time. He would raise his Blaster Rifle and fire it at Iris Arani seemingly ignorant of the dangers of firing the blaster in a closed space such as this or maybe it was because he knew that if she deflected the fire back at him she would chance hitting any of the others inside.

The Voice came from another Commando shortly thereafter…

"Don't tire yourselves out, I'll be waiting for the two of you."​

…this Commando lunged forward, towards Aveline Cuiléin to attempt to plant his hands around either side of her neck and squeeze.

Hopping from one mind to another seemed fairly routine for Kol, especially in the case of these men who had no one to defend themselves against his invasion of their psyches. At this rate the two Jedi might find they weren't only facing the Dark Apostle and his forces but their own men as well.
Outside it was equally as grim, the Acolytes closed in. Lightsabers ignited crimson and they would begin to cut into the structure of the downed craft like they were ripping open a can looking for the meaty insides.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Objective: Fight
Equipment: Weapons
Tags: | Closed

His landing and advance didn't go unnoticed, not that he expected anything but a battle here. Glancing over his opponent, Zachariel snorted. Whoever she was, clearly she was no Jedi. He had yet to meet any Jedi that would ever get their hands so bloody. Not to mention, there was no lightsaber in sight. Good, that would make things more interesting.

As it was, this bloody mess of a person certainly drew eyes. Zachariel himself focused on the blood and how she was healing herself, meaning there was more at play than thought. It was fitting then that he was similarly robust. Watching her, he could practically hear her thoughts on what she had to do, and it made him laugh quietly. Let her try and fail, as all others had.

She charged him then, while the warlord simply continued on, not picking speed up. He cocked his head slightly as she neared, barely hearing the hiss from her. Snorting, he brought his axe up to block her blade. The two weapons clashed, a clang echoing through the suddenly quiet area. Her blade cut into his a small bit, adding another cut into its already jagged blade, but then it stopped. Whether from the blade itself of Zachariel's power was unclear, but the warlord leaned in as he pushed back.

"How cute." He stared down at her, noting the hate in her eyes and finding it wanting. "And how futile."

Smirking, he suddenly lashed back out, pushing his axe against her blade before slashing at her.

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

Location: Metellos, Factory District, Industrial Heartland

Equipment in bio.

copies of copies
​

The raging noise of the ongoing invasion above trickled down into the damp factory cellar that has been haphazardly transformed into a rudimentary, makeshift base of operations. The cacophonous sounds of the factory district in turmoil dug through layers of earth and stone inch by inch, and by the time the vibrations reached the shadowy depths, they became distilled into muffled sounds of terror and destruction.

Yet, despite the morbidly serene bass of explosions, crumbling walls and dying civilians filtering through to the dusty underground tunnel, in the end an otherwise innocuous series of sounds were what froze the blood of all present Mawite agents in the dimly illuminated room. Echoing steps gradually grew in volume as the one they were waiting for descended the set of stairs leading down to the underground storage space.

The eerily shifting black fabric of the approaching Shadow spread wherever he trodden, as if the worn cloth had a will of its own; the oncoming figure's back-lit silhouette was slowly consumed by the pure darkness of a robe that was devoid of flair or meaning. Still, the truest horror only manifested when the profane mask finally came into view at the back of the tunnel-like room. A tense, quiet stillness gripped the room, as well as its inhabitants, by their very throats.

But then it was shattered abruptly by the Hand that created it. – The siege machines shall soon arrive. – As he closed in on the holo-table at the center of the room, the metallic pseudo-face of the Blasphemer Lord Ptolemis slowly lit up when it began to reflect the projected digits of slaughtered civilians and enemy troops. – Ready your armaments. Our time to strike is looming. – His unholy voice clogged the room with authority.

As the cryptic Sith came to an imposing halt by the table, the four hooded New Sith Zealots he personally imbued with a fraction of his unholy knowledge stepped up and formed a circle around the holo-table in sync. Several other marauder squads skulked in the shadows of the underground storage building, readying their cruel weapons for imminent combat.

A gloved hand emerges from beneath the concealing robe of Ptolemis and he begins typing away at the table interface. – We are in siege. – A brief pause as he looks around, establishing a nonverbal connection with his dark warriors. – Diplomacy is key to breaking their defenses. I wish to speak with them. – The auditory feedback of each button pressed cut through the stress of the situation with its mechanical pitch as those present exchanged glances. – Open a line toward their commander, but hide our location when you do so.

Two lesser acolytes in training appeared from the sidelines with datapads in their hands, working to establish communications with the enemy leader of this particular front. The previously seen arm disappears back beneath the frayed folds of the Sith Lord's robe once again as he raises his wordless gaze to meet that of his adversary.
​

Osarla Ridor

 

[Darth Saevius]

Objective: I - Depths of Hell
Location: Metellos - En Route to the Hell Well
Tags: Ellayina L'lerim

Amidst the hellscape that was developing on the surface of Metellos, Saevius could feel something.

Something... pure - as if wrought from the very energies of the force itself, and derived from pure light the likes of which the Sith Lord had not seen in a long time. Even as his physical form was relegated to the prison of his mechanical body, his senses in the force had never been stronger. Perhaps it was due to the rune inlaid on his body, or perhaps it was the absence of corporeal feeling that heightened his baser emotions, which in turn fed his connection to the dark side.

As he drew closer to the Hell Well, the presence of this light side entity began heightening the hunger he felt deep inside. His focused tightened on the being’s presence, and as the dropship lowered to the surface, the Sith Lord opened an exit hatch along the side and jumped from his perch within. He would soon close the dozens of meters between the ground and the shuttle, with his synthetic feet pounding against the dirt below and causing a thick cloud of dust to rise around him.

And there she was - the being that exuded her presence like a beacon in the force. She appeared to be a young girl in front of him, but the Dark Lord would not be so easily fooled. He had heard tales of such beings crossing the divide between the Netherworld and the material realm they both now occupied. He had done much research about their kind over the preceding months, but this was the first time he had personally laid eyes upon one of them. <“You appear lost, child...”>

Saevius’ voice ran across the distance between them with an unnatural resonance, as if disembodied and thrown as one might with a stone. It was surprisingly low, and bore an unsettling nature that carried a hint of malice. <“Come to me, and I shall show you the way.”>

 

[Iris Arani]

​

Objective: 1
Allies: Galactic Alliance; Aveline Cuiléin
Enemies: Brotherhood of the Maw; Rannan Kol

​

Her blade flicked up, but didn't reflect the blaster bolt. The Entropic edge just consumed the blast, the next. There wasn't a third as she slipped her blade through the man's armor. Sending him, like the others, into a slumber. Being spared a catastrophic crash made it easy for the Jedi. She kept her balance, kept her focus. And now she had her eyes on the shade. Midsentence within the second commando Rannan would find himself cut off as her blade sent them into a slumber. Iris let out a breath, turned her gaze to the remaining soldiers.

Watched the black spot in the colors swirl around them. A shark, waiting for a chance to strike.

Her blade flicked up as another darkness ripped through the colors. The door to the shuttle was ripped clean off, and a blast of lightning tore into the vehicle. The ever hungry blade quickly absorbed what she could deflect with it, but it wasn't enough. The helpless she'd knocked out, she watched their colors fade completely.

Her eyes narrowed as she brought her second blade out. Flicked it forward. In a flash of pink the saber ripped through the Sith before soaring back to her palm. Too many moving parts. Too many threats.

<Forgive the intrusion.>

Iris's voice echoed not just in Aveline's mind, but the remaining soldiers on their side. She pulled at their colors, their thoughts. Their very beings. Shades of panic, fear, determination, bravery, they all melded together in a swirl of chaos. Chaos to most, anyway. Not to her. Through color she brought clarity, melding mind and senses alike.

They struck out. The commandos, already so used to working alongside each other, found themselves at a level of co-ordination with the Jedi. She painted their path forward, carving a path right through the Sith in their way to reach that darkness from before. If this strange Sith was left to run free, how many more of their troops would be turned against their allies? Their friends?

<Forward. We'll stop the Sith here, then regroup with the others. Keep yourselves calm. I'll do what I can to keep you safe.>

 

[Gabriel Pryce]

222ND NOVA CORPS | 512TH LEGION | 312 ATTACK BATALLION
METELLOS | FACTORY DISTRICT | INDUSTRIAL HEARTLAND
Osarla Ridor | Darth Ptolemis

​

Gabriel had never been to Metallos, though he somehow doubted it looked much better than it did now. They called this place the Heartland of Metallos and the irony was almost too much for him. Yes, it produced most of the planet's technological goods that were then shipped off to the greater galaxy, but at the same time it was located ground level, merely a few levels higher than the toxic slums of the "residential" quarters. Which meant that instead of needing a breath mask to survive up here it just felt like he was walking through a sea of coolant. Honestly, if he wasn't a Jedi and hadn't already a grasp on controlled breathing and removing minor toxins from his body he would be envious of the men around him with their filtered helmets.

Gabe shielded his eyes with the palm of his hand and watched as his master saved them from a falling torpedo, bursting the warhead in the air above them with the Force. As the light began to fade the shadow of the massive floating cities and towering Stratablocks of the elite fell on them. He saw a few starfighters duking it out even above them. He knew all the debris from this battle would tumble and make their way back down into the slums. He wondered how many would return to their shacks and metal huts destroyed by war salvage. His thoughts began to drift towards his peers that he knew were scattered throughout the planet fighting their own battles and facing their own trials. One person, in particular, came to mind and he hoped that the Force helped her through the day.

"Hey kid," one of the marines muttered, bumping Gabe's shoulder. "What'd the General say?" Gabe flushed. Now was not the time to be thinking about his friends. The Force was with them.

"Stay focused," he muttered, the grip on his lightsaber tightening as he peeked over a wall. Suddenly the sound of blaster fire was almost deafening. The roar of repulsors from starfighters and speeders in the air added to the chaotic symphony. Had he really been that zoned out? He cursed.

"Why are they here? The Alliance had them on the run last I heard," he asked his teacher. Though she was probably too busy to answer. The one that had chided him earlier, a new replacement to the General's squad, a tall Zabrak named Makoma shrugged.

"Desperation? Who knows. The Maw is filled with raiders. Without Solipsis do they even have a leader?"

"It has to be more than desperation..."

 

[Aveline Cuiléin]

Allies: Iris Arani
Enemies: Rannan Kol
Equipment: Lightsaber, Jedi jumpsuit, cosaint bracers, meditation amulet

​

"That could've gone worse" Aveline said to no one in particular. If nothing else, she had turned a crash into a rough landing. She'd take that any day of the week. She was about to remark that this didn't count towards her statistic of crashed flights, but recalled none of her old pilot buddies were around.

Once more the brave knight came to her rescue, and in so doing preventing an attack that never got the chance to mount. Blaster fire was absorbed by her blade, and those it touched were stunned. As far as Aveline could tell, Iris wasn't using the Force. "You gotta show me how you do that one of these days" If they make it out ali-nope! None of that pessimism, she cut her own negative thought pattern short.

Another layer of chaos arrived, as the side of the ship flew upon and electricity was cast about. This time Aveline was on her feet as well, the blum hum of her lightsaber accompanying her. Preventing a flanking manoeuvre on Iris, Aveline stepped up on her left, parrying a thrown crimson blade. The owner of the blade had perhaps anticipated the Padawan to continue playing defense, but she had instead launched herself at him. His blade returned to his palm at the same time as Aveline's plunged through his chest.

She had caught that one by surprise, that was unlikely to happen again.

Suddenly Iris' voice was in her mind. Startled at first, Aveline quickly allowed her to do her thing uninterrupted. She let Iris' presence strengthen her resolve, elevate her to a calmer state of mind.

Just then two more acolytes fell upon her. Aveline parried one on the left, then right. She stepped backwards, looking for an opportunity to strike but finding none... Until now! Ducking beneath a horizontal slash and stepping to the side she managed to get under the guard of one of the acolytes, catching him in the side with her blade. She didn't kill him, but he did get badly maimed.

She was about to bring her guard up against the other acolyte's attack, which she knew would be coming. Looking up, however, a chilling idea dawned on her. She wasn't going to make it. Aveline prepared herself, as much as one could in a split second, for a moment that never came. Blaster fire caught the acolyte unaware, and the commandos moved out from the transport, led by Iris. The Knight struck an imposing image, that Aveline felt would stay with her a long time.

Forward, forward unto the darkness, stop the Sith.

Aveline fell back in line with the rest of her team.

 

[Kaine Hamilton]

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D U R A C R E T E_J U N G L E
Objective: 2 Unto the Breach

FINAL DAWN
METELLOS, CORE WORLDS

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MAW IRREGULAR FLEET WRATH SQUADRON ​
Fleet Comp. FDS Purifier [100|073] FDS Heresiarch [100|067] FDS Firelord [100|077] FDS Praetorian [100|100] FDS Gladiator [100|100] FDS Duality [100|100] FDS Mechanicus [100|100] FDS Demolan [100|100] FDS Remembrance [100|100] FDS Starkiller [100|100] FDS Brendol Hux [100|100] Five PCL-27Cs Various Cruisers and Frigates

"Sir, we have word from Commandant Dobson, he reports that his fleet has arrived and is in position to assist our main fleet at your command." the Captain of the Purifier said. "What about Akuz the Ravager." Hamilton asked. "He has already begun engaging Alliance Naval Forces and is charging towards enemy defensive installations." the Captain responded. "I would also like to point that we have identified the flagship of the main enemy fleet as the ANS Momentous Triumph, a Plenipotentiary-class Dreadnought." the Captain added. If what the Captain said was true, then that meant that Hamilton was facing the Galactic Alliance's 6th Sector Fleet, the very same fleet that had broken his blockade at Jedha and dealt a decisive blow at Adrathorpe.

Those two battles were Hamilton's biggest defeat to date, and many within the Final Dawn Military were quick to blame him for the defeat which caused Hamilton to be put on the sidelines for a while until the Maw's Grand Push into the Core Worlds. Defeating them here, would allow the Final Dawn Admiral to correct his twin defeats at Jedha and Adrathorpe with a deceive victory of his own and silence the opposition by demonstrating his martial prowess. He might be outnumbered by the sheer amount of enemy warships present, from Battlecruisers to Corvettes, but the Admiral had Dobson's Scourge Squadron and soon Captain Vaun would arrive with Battlegroup Aurek to support them, not to mention Akuz the Ravager and his massive fleet of brawlers was also here, giving the Admiral the necessary resources to triumph regardless of the odds. He would emerge victorious here, or his name wasn't Kaine Hamilton.

As such the Hammer of the Final Dawn, spoke up issuing new orders for his fleet. "Very well then. If this is the same 6th Sector Fleet that defeated us at Jedha and Adrathorpe, now is the time to avenge all our comrades who died in those battles. All ships move---" suddenly the FDS Purifier was struck by a series of high-velocity projectiles fired by the Watchtower-class Defense Stations, which nearly threw the Admiral off balance and interrupted his statement. "Status Report!" Hamilton shouted once he had regained his composure. "It seems we've been struck by projectiles shot from a hypervelocity canon" the Captain said. "Our Shield Integrity is down to 73 percent." an officer added. "The Heresiarch and Firelord are reporting similar damage, their shield integrity is down to 67 and 77 percent respectively." another officer said.

Knowing that another shot from those Hypervelocity Canons would deal even more damage then that they had suffered from the initial volley, Admiral Hamilton knew exactly what to do. "Order all ships to move into the debris field. There our ships should be shielded from their hypervelocity Canons. Instruct Commandant Dobson's fleet to do the same, as we cannot afford to lose too many ships so early." the Admiral said. If the Final Dawn was to crush the 6th Sector Fleet they would first have to destroy those Hypervelocity Canons and soon, those Golan Platforms. Fortunately there was someone among the Mawite Warfleet who did not fear large capital ship-killers as the Final Dawn did, and that was Akuz the Ravager. Many times before had the Final Dawn utilized his fleet as cannon fodder, often having them carry out suicidal charges against enemy forces, and every time they emerged from the smoke of battle ready to hunt even more prey. As such, having them charge against an entire Sector Group wouldn't change much, and Hamilton was certain that the Mawite Warlord would even like the idea.

As the warships of Wraith Squadron began accelerating towards the debris field, Kaine Hamilton sent a transmission to Akuz the Ravager through the comms. "This is Admiral Kaine Hamilton of the Final Dawn to Akuz the Ravager. My Fleet has come under heavy fire from enemy long-range hypervelocity platforms and cannot advance without risking taking severe damage. I will require for your forces to clear out those platforms if my fleet is to be able to join yours and engage the Galactic Alliance's Primary Fleet directly." the Admiral said, informing the Warlord of his current situation. The Fleets of the Final Dawn and the Kragamond Wartribe would have to work together, especially if they were to break through the defensive positions of the 6th Sector Fleets and secure Naval Superiority. But then again, Hamilton doubted Akuz would refuse an opportunity to lay waste to his foes, after all Mawites did crave death and destruction.

Thus, the Battle of Metellos had begun, the Maw's great gamble to salvage their campaign in the Core, and if they were lucky enough they would win the day, and their hold in the Core Worlds would be secured. Failure was unacceptable today, and Hamilton would make sure for every ship he lost, 10 Alliance Warships would burn as a result, all in the name of bringing Glory to the Final Dawn and the High Regent.

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Spoiler: TL;DR

• Admiral Kaine Hamilton receives word of Commandant Brodan Dobson's arrival and learns that he is facing the 6th Sector Fleet, the same Force that had defeated him at Jedha and Adrathorpe.
• The FDS Purifier, Heresiarch and Firelord are struck by hypervelocity projectiles fired by the Watchtower Platforms and suffer considerable damage to their shields. Should the Hypervelocity Cannons strike again, they risk of suffering even more damage to their shielding and potentially their hulls.
• As a result of the sudden attack, Admiral Kaine Hamilton orders all Final Dawn Naval Forces to move into the debris field to cover their approach towards the Galactic Alliance 6th Fleet without the risk of facing any more attacks from their hypervelocity cannons or from any deployed starfighters

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Tags [Final Dawn/BotM] | Brodan Dobson | Himm'vaun'merek | Akûz the Ravager
Tags [GA] | Syndulla Command | Liram Angellus ​

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[Rannan Kol]

Objective 1
Allies: Brotherhood of the Maw;
Enemies: GA; Iris Arani , Aveline Cuiléin
Equipment: The Dark Sacraments, Apostles Vestments, Ring

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That Iris Arani seemed able to perceive him before he struck deeply into the minds of the Commandos didn't perturb the Dark Apostle, it was learning moment. He'd learned that one of his enemies could see his presence before it overcame the mental resistances of others, controlling them like a parasite injecting itself into their very minds. No matter, he was very adaptable.

The Acolytes continued their attack with mostly middling success. A Jedi Knight helping to focus the Commandos under her leadership was a boon that any fighting force would have appreciated. It wasn't the Commandos that Kol was focusing on anymore though it was Aveline Cuiléin . She may have made a mistake bringing the fight to the Acolytes.

At a distance from where he stood well out of the way of actual combat the Dark Apostle could make out the figure of the Jedi as she battled the Acolytes. They had the numbers, but she was proving skilled with a lightsaber. Very skilled.

Almost as though they were answering a subliminal call the Acolytes began to give Aveline a wider berth, focusing on Iris and the Commandos. Their crimson lightsabers apt at deflecting blasterfire back at their attackers. They were apt in manipulation of the force too, at least the basics which is why they'd press with telekinetic force to hurl Iris and her allies backwards or react with a blur of speed to close the distance and cut through as many of the Commandos as possible knowing their own allies were behind them.

And Kol, he only focused on Aveline Cuiléin . Indeed the way between the Dark Apostle and the Jedi would have been clear. No Acolyte would attempt to bar her path but it was not all as it seemed.

Gazing at her from across the distance he would assault Aveline. A Metaphysical Attack. To anyone watching Kol was unmoving but his spirit outstretched to penetrate deep into her own. It would be akin to having a syringe filled with the blackest tar injected deep into the veins. In a moment such a penetrating attack would be accompanied by the same disembodied voice that Aveline would have heard on the ship…

"Hello, Jedi."​

…it seemed to ripple outward, through her being accompanied by a burning that set nerves on fire the same as what may have been experienced if a scalpel was slowly peeling away skin…

"Kill her. Kill your friend. Save yourself."​

…the voice had bade her, tempting her to release herself from the pain which would surely abate if she abided by the command. It was only the first step, a push towards what it wanted; Aveline need not concern herself with what the second step was yet.

Whether or not Iris, who also had a connection with Aveline heard the voice through her allies mindscape was debatable though Kol wouldn't attempt to deny her. In fact he welcomed it though she might know why....

 

[Westenra Mina]

Lynda, consumed by her fugue state, didn't even hear what Zachariel Steelblood said, his contempt didn't register to her.

She saw the blade bite into his axe...and go no further, then with a brute strength Lynda had rarely encountered, forced her backward and she charged again, knowing her blade could affect his, and possibly his armor, and that was all the encouragement The Demon of Jedha needed.

KILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILLKILL---

The return slash caught The Demon of Jedha by surprise, and as the return swing came, her advanced organic databases calculating swing trajectory and possible responses as she charged, matching the speed of his axe noting the positioning and balance as he did. Practiced and controlled. Saw the confidence of the swing. The benefit of experience.

But The Demon of Jedha was something that, even if Darth Xiphos herself were still in her prime, would have thought twice about fighting. The same Darth Xiphos whose idea of a relaxing day is using Bryn skulls as a sharpening tool for her various, creepy Snake-Eyes-esque collection of trench knives, or watching The Battalion flay a prisoner alive with a razor or one of the trench knives she just sharpened.

She would not evade his axe blow. Not entirely.

She wasn't trying to.

Instead, as the axe came into range she forced a stop at the last possible second, sword raised, aided in the sudden stop by the repulsorlifts in her suit.

The edge of his axe caught her stomach, cutting it open, getting a bit more of a gash on her side as she forced herself forward, at the terminus of his swing glowing red blood and glowing red muscle tissue that burst into flames as it hit the ground as her flesh shuddered horrifically everywhere on her body, he having succeeded in cleaving into her slightly, but because of her sudden stop in a millisecond, followed by immediately going forward just as his axe completed his swing meant that while he had scored a blow she was now in a position on his side, with her repulsorlift tech in her armor making her fly upward at him at immense speed now, hopefully too fast for him to counter as his axe was now in a completely different direction from her, having timed how fast his weapon was traveling and the extrapolated physical position it would be in once it completed it's attack. His axe had stopped her blade. Was his helmet thick enough to stop the sword slashing for his face?

 

[Bernard]

7th Stratablock, Moridebo District
Moving towards the HellWell to fight Sith
Writing with: Ishida Ashina Darth Mori

Bricks tumbled to the ground as more of the wall collapsed. The wall separated a small shack on the side opposite the Sith from a dumping ground for trashed electronics. The gap in the wall was wide enough to reveal the top half of the corroded desh and durasteel home. It looked abandoned, or simply run down.

Bernard couldn’t tell from above, nor did he have the time to find out. Ishida announced their presence, and as quickly as she’d ran ahead, she jumped toward the Sith.

Her reckless attack forced both of them into action. No hesitation for one meant the same for the other. He leapt from the building, after her, bringing his own blade to life in the descent.

Dust rose where his feet hit the street. The light of his blade spread over the space around him like frost, obscuring the muddy duracrete under a blue shine. Opposite him, past Ishida, the Sith stood with her own blade extended before her. The white glow from the centre of the plasma blade obscured her form. It was light that seemed to cast the rest of the world into shadow, where the colour of her bled kyber seemed to swallow it all in bloody crimson.

The Maw’s new ruler carried her darkness more naturally than her compatriots had. It seemed sharper, more deadly in her hands.

“You do not understand the situation you find yourselves in,” the Sith countered Ishida’s ultimatum.

Bernard was inclined to agree with her. They were unprepared and potentially out of their depth. Yet, Ishida rushed in alone into that engulfing darkness.

Calling out for her to wait would have been a futile gesture. Bernard’s chest tightened and tension ran through the muscles in his limbs.

"I suppose if you do yearn for death, I am here - you are more than welcome to take it from me," the Sith’s words rang out into the street.

Bernard ignored the taunt and dashed after the other Jedi, readying his blade. His priorities fell into place, hurriedly, as he cleared the street into the dumping ground and the edge of the crimson glow. Ishida would make it through this alive, even despite herself.

 

[Darth Nemris]

Post Count: Three
Tags: Valery Noble Aldric Laurent

Anger flared up within Nemris at the words of Valery, and he did not try to shackle them. He let it flow through him, empowering him, and his vision began to cloud over in red. Her words were petty, filled with an arrogance that a title and prestige had heaped upon her. She had earned most of it, but she spoke with the hubris of a Sith. Nemris let that twinge of pleasure coat the anger flowing through him as he moved toward the Jedi. Reaching into his robes, he withdrew two lightsaber hilts, one his first blade, and the other freshly crafted. He ignited the crimson blades and moved to meet the Jedi's charge.

Almost at once he slid to a halt, sensing first and then seeing the Force move around him to begin scattering the dust cloud. Rather than trying to combat her actions with the cloud, Nemris instead turned his attention to direct combat. If he could keep moving, then he would make it far more difficult for the sniper to lock on. He watched the Jedi rush and then leap over him, and Nemris brought his two blades around to cover himself from a possible attack during her arc of flight. When she then landed and rushed at him, he had an idea of what she was planning.

He brought his two blades forward in matching strikes, one from above and below, to first parry then launch his counter attack against the Jedi. He sensed the next shot of the rifle being fired through the Force before he heard the shot, and by then he was already acting. Blades locked in a fierce exchange with the Jedi, Nemris concentrated in the Force and grabbed hold on dozens of pieces of debris. He tore them up from the ground, and formed them into a barrier between himself and the incoming blaster bolt. He could not be sure exactly where the shot was coming without looking; relying on his Force sense against a danger behind him moving at such a high velocity was risky at best. The debris instead formed a wall behind Nemris, and a moment later the blaster bolt struck, disintegrating a few of the smaller pieces and showering both Force wielding combatants in dust.

Locking blades with Valery once again, Nemris spoke in a low, detached tone. "You annoy me, Jedi. I will relish the day your blood stains my hands and I feel your life vanish through the Force. Perhaps that will be today, perhaps not. But there is one thing I can do today..." With a sudden exertion through the Force, Nemris reversed his control on the debris, and sent it hurtling like projectiles towards the position of the sniper.

"I can inflict loss to you..."