Duty Calls [TJP/TSE]

[Zef Halo]

​

​

THE CITADEL
LOLA SAYU


Silence accompanied Ember Farseer much more often after the fall of Coruscant. Almost always he could be seen lost in his thoughts, less interactive and generally more introverted than before. The memories of the lost hospital, the Sith Lord and Anais plagued him ruining his concentration and focus. Meditation had become as hard as it initially was when he had just been a trainee.

The Jedi Knight vigorously tried to shove the detrimental thoughts from Coruscant in the back of his mind replacing them with the empathy for the Jedi they would attempt to liberate from the grasps of those that torched the Jewel of the Core - The Sith Empire. Ember repressed the dread from the Sith Lord and what had occurred at Beyers Hospital. He had to overcome this as impossible as it seemed and as fresh as the memory was. He had to but it was more than just a steep hike.

Now they were here - for [member="Romi Jade"] and [member="Coren Starchaser"] among others trapped in the cells of this nightmare that the Citadel was believed to be. He'd had minimal interaction with the former and none with the latter - Starchaser had been an infamous name in the New Jedi Order during Ember's tenure. Information had arrived of their capture and duty called.

This was not only for Romi and Coren, no. This prison breaking operation was also for others sharing their fate in the confines of the dreadful prison.

The Jedi had infiltrated the Citadel through various means. Some would find there way through air ducts, others through sewers and what not but as much as lightly and cautiously as they trod, the Citadel was made to be a prison where one remained within its confines or died daring its escape, as Ember would soon find out.

Farseer had landed cleanly on his feet from one of the larger air ducts and carefully looked around to see that he'd arrived at the end of some wide corridor. Before him a door stood closed and the red light emanating from the panel next to it implied it was locked. Quickly revealing the scramble keys from his pocket, he began on working the door open.

Not an easy task considering the security of the prison.

The memories came flushing in as he tried to focus disrupting his concentration, he shoved them back but they came pressing back again. The battle within him took his attention and the error he so much wanted to evade became unavoidable.

Abruptly, due to his screw up, alarms blared through the whole complex...

So much for infiltration, the Jedi infiltrating the Citadel were foiled.

--

OOC:

Welcome to the fun! Open to both Jedi Praxeum and Sith Empire members to enjoy a story of prison breaking, specifically [member="Coren Starchaser"] and [member="Romi Jade"] who had been captured by [member="Taeli Raaf"] and [member="Darth Carnifex"], and [member="Darth Ophidia"] respectively.

Just a few things to note:

- This place has been designed, built and equipped with the sole purpose of holding Jedi. It's not a walk in the park. There's more than plenty defensive measures, so every step you take is probably going to be risky as heck and that's why it's so fun!

- Ember karked up so the whole Citadel knows we're in. Get ready for trouble.

- Be creative, be sensible.

- Enjoy!

 

[Felicity Skye]

SLOSH SLOSH SLOSH​

“When they said sewer, I thought they were joking.” Felicity groused as she pulled herself up through a manhole and into one of the lower levels of the citadel’s maintenance shafts, which somehow managed to smell even worse. “Ugh! Now it’s the sulfur. I’ll never get the smell out of these clothes now.” She said reading the surrounding pipes warning labels. “You would think if somebody wanted to build a prison, they’d at least build it on a planet they could enjoy. What could you enjoy here, aside from respiratory problems and the smell of rotten eggs?”

As stale as the shaft’s air was, Felicity took a big breath to rid herself of all the negativity. The Jedi that were there had bigger fish to fry than that of a smell. And to do it they would need to keep their wits about them. But as soon as that thought crossed Felicity’s mind it had left someone else’s.

The shaft’s yellow lights suddenly turned off but just for a second, and only to come back a flashing scarlet red, accompanied by the sound of alarms. “Well that’s a great sign.” She announced sarcastically, as she ran up the shafts stairs scanning for doors with some sort of exit signage.

 

[Rosalina]

Initially, Alm had wanted to go in through the vent shaft. She’d seen something like that in a holoflick once, where a dashing secret agent wiggled his way through the ventilation system of an enemy lair. Unfortunately, Alm wasn’t exactly…built for tight spaces. After some awkward conversation on why she didn’t have the ideal body type for vent wiggling, she agreed that the sewer would be a better option.

Even if it did smell like a bantha’s backside. As an Acolyte turned good—uh, better—Alm felt the need to atone for the bad things she’d done with the Sith. Even if the thought of facing them again made her stomach tighten. Her only comfort had been her lowly status as an apprentice. She was no one important to them.

“Smell, bad. Yes.” Following after Felicity, Alm’s towering form emerged from the manhole. She had bunched some of the fabric of her vest up and over her nose and mouth but it hadn’t helped much. “Is Sith.” She offered an explanation to why a prison would be built on such a planet. “Is mean.” A shrug followed.

No sooner had they made it out of the stink zone did the alarms start to blare, announcing the presence of a breech. “Oh no.” Alm whispered quietly. “No, no. Is bad sign.”

She rushed after Felicity, catching up quickly with long strides. The Nasvali tried one door, bathed in crimson light, but it would not budged. “I break, yes?” She pointed to it wildly, dark eyes wide with adrenaline as she deferred to the Jedi Knight.

[member="Felicity Skye"]

 

[Warchief Waddles]

Location: Ventilation Shaft
Objective: Infiltrate the Citadel

DUST! Why is it always dust?! Aten thought rolling his eyes the goggles on his eyes the only saving grace keeping the filth from getting into his eyes. Shirt pulled over his nose and mouth Aten breathed through using the cloth as a makeshift filter. Aten had yet to truly determine how his life had ended up like this? Had those childish delusions led him down a path that would simply end in ruin and heartache or was it fate forcing Aten down a path he did not yet fully understand? Either way, it goes he was the one squirming through the air ducts of The Citadel.

The inside of the ventilation system was practically broiling, Aten’s shirt completely soaked from not only the exertion of crawling through the vents but also from the heat. “Join the Jedi, be a hero, it’ll be fun!” Aten grumbled to himself as he came to a stop at an intersection where there was a large hole that led straight down to a lower portion of the ventilation system, bringing him closer to his goal. Though it was far too far to simply let himself fall, even if it wasn’t this was supposed to be a stealthy mission.

No sooner than Aten reminded himself of the necessity of stealth did the alarms begin blaring, the ventilation system was filled with a scarlet glow as the alarms went off and even as high up as he was Aten could hear the sounds of boots meeting metal floors and the shouts as guards mustered themselves. Who tripped the karking alarm already?! Burying his face in his hands and shaking his head as the klaxons blared and echoed through the vents Aten closed the noise off and sat on the edge prepared to lower himself. At least they’ll be a bit more focused on one of the other groups. Back pressing to one side of the vent and bracing his legs against the other Aten began the slow descent his feet shifting bit by bit.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

The Citadel - Deeper Dungeons - Torture cell​

[member="Romi Jade"]​

clack - clack - clack

A gold disk tumbled from one ink-black finger to another before disappearing under the palm and reappearing back on top - Rinse and repeat. Each time it tumbled over a digit, the cogs of the room moved, churned by the Force. Her burning eyes watched the Jedi in the vice, eyes unblinking, unmoving; face as set in stone with an ashen hue, streaked with black tattoos and purple lips. Robes of black, grey and blue draped down the slender form of Darth Ophidia. Next to her, a metal tea-tray with piping hot liquid in a fine pot, as well as dainty cups. One of which trailed with a sickeningly sweet scent, summoning the thinnest column of rising vapour.

clack - clack - clack

The cogs turned, steel clicking over the teeth of a wheel. Straps locked down tight on the limbs, they reacted to any use of the Force, tightening, biting, choking any attempt at setting oneself free. The cogs moved and the restraints started turning, slowly twisting, one increment at a time, the ratchet locking every time and preventing the limbs from turning back. It wasn't much of a threat to begin with, but soon one would begin to feel the resistance of bone and sinew. The cogs would keep on turning, churning, twisting against the grain.Each limb turned at a slightly different timing, set to cause a series of breaks rather than breaking them all at once. It made the whole ordeal so much more- Pleasant? To view, anyway.

She didn't ask any questions. Oh this was not a question of gaining information anymore. What could be extracted had been by now. No, this was just for the sheer joy of it: the malicious desire to see her face contort in pain, and the cracking of bone pulled and twisted out of place and out of shape. She wanted to destroy the young Jedi's body and send her mauled body back to her friends as a testament to their inevitable failure. It was not too often Darth Ophidia took the time to personally oversee the torture, but this was indeed such an occasion. It brought her excitement to see, to sense, to hear.

Of course, the destruction of the being before her was not only to happen on a physical level, but also on a level of the spiritual. A tube fell from the ceiling, attached to a vein in the back of the Jedi's neck. Through it came drop after drop of diluted Sith Poison. She had made sure to arrange so the fall was slow and deliberate so she could observe every second of it. It had been dripping for some time and should begin to take effect soon by her roughest estimation. Then again, such a poison often had effects that were difficult to time.

As the coin kept tumbling over the knuckles, an ashen hand picked up the little cup with the sweet liquid and put it to the purple lips. She blew a trail of the vapour over to her entertainment before taking a sip while the coin passed under her palm. The sip ended with a relaxed sigh as the coin came back up between her index finger and thumb, then tumbled down, digit by digit.
clack - clack - clack
clack - clack - clack

 

[Mishel Kryze]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Rx1yt90wzA[/media]

Mishel groaned and stuck her nose up a moment.

The Tygaran now was pressed against the clock to scramble up the chute and make her way to the holding cells.

She had only known about this operation through the Praxeum which was something that Coren had mentioned in their travels. That and his constant reference to Ember Farseer as Farstar she swore he did this just to get a rise out of her. Typical dad-joke stuff she gathered as after a while she stopped trying to correct him, and for what it was worth she knew Ember so when there was a chance to run a jail break to try and Coren out. Mishel went without hesistation, she had told Coren she'd be on Geonosis, but Geonosis could wait another few months it wasn't like the Confederacy was going anywhere. Step by step she ambled up the chute trying her best to adjust to the closing of the walls.

She could hear the alarms going off already and wanted to scream, but chose not to. Coren was around here somewhere and she wasn't going to leave without him. Not a chance, her mind went to Dagobah, Sullust and Dagobah again where they had gone to get her crystal. I said until the end of the line, Coren. I meant it - and this is not the end, not today, not tomorrow - no way, no how. At least not while I'm around.

[member="Aten Ramses"] | [member="Alm"] | [member="Felicity Skye"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Hansen]

Anarielle Giala Mero
Lola Sayu, The Citadel, Corridor.

Spoiler

Equipment:

• Backpack
• Golden-Blade Curved-Hilt Lightsaber
• DC-15A Blaster Rifle
• DC-17 Hand Blaster
• Detonation Packs
• Class-A Thermal detonator
• Katarn-Armour Mk. IV [White]
• N-20 Baradium-core thermal detonator
• Security Spikes
• Vocal Emulator

Allies: [member="Alm"] [member="Aten Ramses"] [member="Felicity Skye"]
Enemies:
Nearby: [member="Ember Farseer"]

Skulking through the ventilation shaft behind Master Farseer, Anari keeps the DC-15 Blaster Rifle clenched firmly in both hands keeping it held by her side above knee while stepping with care through the large diameter metal tube. Anarielle had volunteered to join this exercise partially for the excuse to see the Citadel in-person she'd heard it was constructed as an inescapable prison back during the war, only to have a Republic Strike Team successfully infiltrate and release several prisoners the incident was considered secret of course for reasons unknown to Anari but she'd read the After-action report prepared thereafter. "Master Farseer, we should be coming upto an opening ahead." Anarielle's voice copied that of men belonging to an army whose time had long passed, a precaution to protect her own identity under these dangerous circumstances she couldn't permit the Sith to easily acquire identifying information. The Shoe was finally on the other foot and the irony of Anarielle wearing what was ostensibly Clone Trooper Armour breaking into what had previously been a prison owned and operated by the Government Anari had been loyal to during the Clone Wars wasn't lost for a moment on the Sephi Woman and if it were not for the sobering surroundings perhaps there would have been laughter at that thought, but no joy could be found through the depths of the Citadel; pain and suffering rippled through the living force and a cold geyser shoots up Anari's spine as a reminder of whom now dwelled within the prison's bowels in the form of odious Sith. "They'll be keeping the most 'dangerous' prisoners in the lower detention levels, that's where we'll locate your 'Starchaser'" Anarielle uses her offhand to steady her balance clasping at the edge of square-shaped grate opening that Ember drops through, she follows closely behind Ember pivoting around she covers the other ventilation shafts with shouldered blaster rifle her long keen ears listening attentively to that veritable rattle transported through tightly packed molecules contained within the solid walls and doors around them.

Klaxons begin loudly sounding throughout the entire prison, Anari pivots in her boots immediately and goes to abruptly shove Ember out of the way with door seeming to remain locked. "Let me do this!" Anarielle exclaims irritated she inwardly cursed herself for not interrupting him sooner, not considering whether or not Master Farseer possessed programming skills or equipment sufficient to meet the challenge up until this moment. Centering herself firmly, Anari manages to successfully suppress and contain her own anxiety and fear. Anarielle had volunteered to come along, the Jedi Praxeum appeared to be the best chance for the Jedi Order she knew and loved to live again. Their involvement here secretly troubled the Anachronistic Sephi woman who was concerned that they were taking sides in a war and that before-long the Jedi Praxeum would be producing warriors and not peacekeepers. Anarielle did not consider herself a Jedi, the path had previously proven too narrow for her to walk without constant objection and thus the greater integrity some would say belonged to her yet despite having parted with the Order in the past and her own concerns about the Praxeum's future notwithstanding she continues to provide them with material and financial support. Anarielle pulls a riveted panel from the wall under the terminal with a swift hand-gesture before pulling an adapter out from behind the Durasteel and ramming a security spike into it. "Looking on the bright side, maybe this whole unfortunate situation will permit other teams to successfully penetrate the detention levels, if we could seize the facility's control center we might be able to manipulate security bulkheads." Anarielle makes the suggestion before forcing the locked door with its' red green pad to flicker green and steadily peel open after accessing its' controls at the terminal.

Pulling away from the white text she Shoulders blaster rifle again and raises it leveling her firing arc in direction of the screeching bulkhead door that opens with a painfully lethargic motion. Each footstep Anari took in the modified Mark four Katarn Armour produced a barely audible rattle through the contents of her backpack; explosives, anti-security equipment and first aid supplies all crammed together for what she'd anticipated would be an extremely dangerous operation. In contrast to Ember the Sephi Woman possessed professional soldiering experience and knew what gear would get them through without the force. Anari brought her Lightsaber along but concealed it tactfully within one of her belt's pouches suspecting that the Sith she previously knew to be extinct used the more brutish lightsaber combat forms and quietly dreaded the thought of having to face one with Anari believing with certainty in defeat from engaging in a protracted duel with force wielders who having a brief glance at modern history had great experience and practice with their blades, whereas in Anarielle's day true lightsaber forms focusing on combat with other lightsaber wielders had been considered a practically worthless field of study. Fortunately for Anarielle she had been unwise and studied those forms and practiced them with admirable dedication but applied what she knew practically in a few rare situations, which could not be said with these modern 'Jedi' and their evil counterparts who seemed to engage in such struggles regularly. "You set them up and I'll knock them down." Anarielle gestures for the Jedi to take point and spares a glance with her whole helmet turning towards Ember, even through her own clouded judgement and connection with the living force she could perceive Ember's own distress, it was having a multiplying effect on her own fears though through discipline she would manage them.

 

[Mariel Dawnrider]

Harper hadn't been brought here with the people the Praxeum was here for.

The Praxeum didn't even know Harper was here at all.

The young woman had been transferred here after her interrogation by [member="Darth Carnifex"]. Before he had gone to Coruscant, to oversee the demise of the Galactic Alliance. But Harper knew none of that. She didn't even know how long she'd been here. At least a week, she thought. Maybe? It was hard to tell. Time meant nothing in the lowest levels of the Citadel. There was no day or night. The air stunk of sulfur- at first it had made her eyes sting and water. But slowly she'd gotten used to it. Partly.

Her injuries at the hands of the Dark Lord had been treated in a cursory fashion. Enough to keep her alive. Without the use of bacta (they did not, after all, want her dead, though for the life of her she didn't know why) she had mostly been left to heal the old fashioned way.

Slowly.

Every movement was pain. Every time she rolled over. Every time she shifted and scooted to reach a different section of the small cell. The pain was a constant, and she had to be careful in how and what she moved.

Harper had no idea that the Praxeum was there, in the Citadel. And neither did they know she was here.

Slowly, she laid her head down on the cold, hard stone of the floor, closing her eyes. Carefully, methodically, she repeated in her head her list of names. The people she loved. The people she would see again.

 

[Tarsus]

Objective: Keep Prisoner C-14 in his cell at all costs
Allies: [member="Darth Ophidia"]
Function: Guard/ Defense
______________________

Tarsus was growing bored. Guarding was never really his thing. But ya know... whatever it takes to suit the needs of the Empire. He was typically used as a pawn, but that didn't matter to him. That's what he did best. He wasn't looking for fame or money or even power. Just to contribute. This guarding stuff was unusual, however. This wasn't like many of the test he went through. The tests he went through were hard, vigorous labor and taxing mental challenges. This was simple waiting. This was nothing. But for some reason, it was getting to his head. Maybe it was that damn alarm, blaring over and over again.

Maybe he was experiencing a flashback from his childhood. That wasn't it though, his childhood was great. He thought a bit more. God, why did his leg hurt? He felt his lightsaber burning into his skin. He looked at it: the cap was bright red with heat. He twisted and pulled it off with much pain and struggling. He'd need to have that healed. The cap instantly cooled. He observed it. On the bottom, there was a sentence, in huttese (of all languages) reading "I was slain by Majoran, the Byss Warrior. My son, you must avenge me." This message was obviously from the previous owner of the lightsaber, his master's father. In honor of his fallen master, he would Achieve this task.

He was still feeling strange though. It wasn't the saber, so what was it? Maybe it was the prisoner within, or the intruders. Whatever it was, it wasn't distracting enough to stray him away from the battle that was to come.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Ember Farseer"]

Alden stared at the blinking alarm that had suddenly erupted.

"Um." Head tilted. See, if this was any other time he might have erupted himself at Ember for it, but. Something had changed in his friend ever since Coruscant. He didn't want to talk about it, but his eyes? Haunted. As if they had seen too much, too quickly and then some. It made him concerned- for him, for Anais, he had had his own troubles on Coruscant, but nothing like the madness at the hospital.

"Thought you knew what you did with tech, Ember." Al grumbled as he shouldered past him and hijacked the door's access point. One scramble key and the door opened, but the alarms... that was a different story.

Can't do anything about that.

They stepped into the corridor and in the distance Alden could already hear boots on the floor. Approaching. But for a brief moment all that fell away as something else tugged at his attention, hard. Enough that it made him stumble and grab Ember by the shoulder to steady himself. He gasped, eyes closing as he tried to center himself in that moment where the Force roared in his ears.

It... Alden didn't understand.

Too much, way too much, the sensations, the feelings, but a face was in his mind. Harper? That couldn't be right. She was still on Dellalt, investigating. Alden pushed it away for now to inspect it later.

"Feth, I am more worried about her than I realized." Enough that the Force itself was screaming at him about it. "Let's go before the Imperials jump down our throat for breaking their toys."

[member="Harper Kade"]

 

[Romi Jade]

LOLA SAYU​

Torture Cell, The Citadel​

WITH: [member="Darth Ophidia"]​

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Spoiler

[youtube]https://youtu.be/tkrvSj7rc-4[/youtube]

Mmm...

She fought as hard as she could, and it was only due to her spirit that could resist for as long as she could; somewhat.

The very life was being siphoned from her through the straps; the fine edges cutting just as deep. Whenever she could she avoided the sick symphony of the gears locking and unlocking; she knew it would draw her closer to death...but then she'd gotten to know Ophidia as well, and she'd never let her truly die.

Her face screwed up; contorting in discomfort which soon led to pain. She bit down on her busted lip as she could feel the pressure on her bones grow and grow until it seemed they would simply shatter.

Snap!

Arghhhhh!

She screeched in pain, her entire body jolting at the sense of a fracture somewhere. She couldn't even pinpoint, and before she cold muster the strength to she witnessed a tube spiraling from the ceiling above; the only light source she could make out, that she was even given.

Through the film of water in her eyes, she couldn't make out anything else other than shapes. All she knew was a subtle sting towards the back of her neck before she faded. Her vision grew cloudy, there was a whiff of something...and all she knew after was darkness. Her body forfeited control.

For just a second, she remained present in her subconscious. All she could hear was her own heartbeat...but overtime the sound faded.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Where was he heading today? Coren Starchaser shook his head. He knew he had been moved a few times. Was it that they were moving everyone? He recognized the one person nearby, [member="Romi Jade"]. She was the Jedi who helped during the battle on Coruscant. Set up the meld that helped fuel him, and probably, inadvertently saved his life. She was here? How many people did he not save? If she was here, his job wasn’t done right. He needed to get out of this prison.

What he needed was a damned arm too. Shaking his head, he was trying to not wallow in what he was doing here. He knew. The Jedi were all being interrogated, and he was being questioned. His mind wiped, but he was feeling confident he was not giving up anything. What more could they ask him that [member="Taeli Raaf"] or [member="Darth Carnifex"] didn’t already know.

What he was hoping for, was of course, rescue, but he didn’t want anyone to come just off the handle to save him. He could survive this. He was not concerned with his own self. He knew he did what he could. And if he could keep the Sith focused on him for a while? Then it was a victory. If they were focused on him and not someone else? It was all he needed.

The injured Jedi was walking from one cell block, to another. He couldn’t see.

This was not good.

[member="Mishel Noren"]
[member="Ember Farseer"]

 

[Zef Halo]

"We're not here only for Starchaser, we're here to free them all." Ember retorted with an unnatural for him decisiveness in his voice before calmly adding. "Anari. Please consider carefully the amount of force you use against potential hostiles." The Jedi Knight was concerned with the presence with the soldier. She'd been a helping hand ever since they began laying the foundation of the Praxeum but she was as capable as a soldier as she was mysterious. While not exactly threatened or worried by the Sephi, she still was a soldier. And to Ember - Jedi and soldiers had a really different view on how much force was needed in any situation.

Blue blade materialized with a snap-hiss and Ember realized how odd his new hilt felt in his hand. His previous lightsaber exploded, or more specifically was forced to explode by the Jedi Knight in his horrendous duel with the enigmatic Sith Lord on Coruscant. He had to get used to this new saber and quickly.

The Jedi Knight moved ahead of the others, his Soresu expertise perfectly serving him as a protector against ranged fire.

"Feth, I am more worried about her than I realized. Let's go before the Imperials jump down our throat for breaking their toys."

Ember did not even need to ask who Alden was referring to, he perfectly knew.

"Focus, Alden. She's home." He simply said reassuringly. The leading attitude Ember had began demonstrating ever since the Praxeum grew seemed only natural but at the same time...it was odd. Just different to him. "Seizing the control center might be near impossible but heading that way should drive more attention to us than to the rest. Where to, Anari?"

After she would answer him, Ember would tap his wrist comlink and open a line, if possible, to [member="Felicity Skye"]. Another mysterious woman that had recently joined the Praxeum. In the brief interaction he had with her, the Jedi found out he'd have to seek her on the matter of the Varanin holocron. Right now, she should be with less experienced Jedi as they made their way through the sewers.

"Felicity, do you read me? We'll try taking their attention heading towards the control room. Use that to your advantage." Freeing them from the detention area would certainly prove challenging for Skye but Ember's team would do as best as they could to help her. "And be very careful." He paused for a moment.

"May the Force be with you."


[member="Alden Belmont"] [member="Anari Mero"]

 

[Hansen]

Anarielle Giala Mero
Lola Sayu, The Citadel, Corridor.

Spoiler

Equipment:

• Backpack
• Golden-Blade Curved-Hilt Lightsaber
• DC-15A Blaster Rifle
• DC-17 Hand Blaster
• Detonation Packs
• Class-A Thermal detonator
• Katarn-Armour Mk. IV [White]
• N-20 Baradium-core thermal detonator
• Security Spikes
• Vocal Emulator

Allies: [member="Alm"] [member="Aten Ramses"] [member="Felicity Skye"], [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Romi Jade"]
Enemies:
Nearby: [member="Ember Farseer"], [member="Alden Belmont"]

Kinetic restraints slide back in a clockwork crescendo prompting the three feet thick blast door to quickly split open and reveal a large room that appeared to Anari's eyes contain several cylinder vat-like structures littered between the axis of Durasteel walkways; three in total each leading to a different and concealed destination. Seemed like they are well and truly inside the Citadel facility now. Rising from her crouched position with antiquated DC-15 Blaster Shouldered she makes a sharp wordless gesture with hand motioning for Ember or Alden to assume the point position; imitating tactics used by the Grand Army of the Republic against her own forces where Clones would permit Jedi to disrupt the tight ranks of droids or flush organics from cover which offered an effective way to overcome any confrontation in close-quarters. Listening to Ember's caution on the use of Force, Anari visibly nods her helmeted head and speaks again with that masculine imitation created by the emulator nestled snugly in her thoracic region. "Worry not Master Farseer, my stun setting is engaged." Anarielle was of a same mind as Master Farseer even if outwardly her appearance and method differed though the latter couldn't be faulted for being ignorant of this given the former's closely-guarded secrecy, she wasn't surprised members of the Praxeum struggled to trust her and silently appreciated the leap of faith on their part. Anarielle is determined not to betray or compromise that tenuous trust shared between herself and her two compatriots and deferred humbly to Farseer's judgement. Anari follows behind Ember taking short, careful and measured footsteps curling her spine down towards weapon somewhat to minimise her own target profile immediately recognizing Ember's chosen form she contains a laugh at the irony 'Truly I am become ARC Trooper, Infiltrator of prisons and demolisher of droids' The amused Sephi thought to herself inwardly remarking on the similarity of their appearance to some GAR Commando Team, embracing the likeness of her former adversaries with no contempt or malice for Anari never truly hated those Clone Soldiers, truly their combat prowess as she recalled it was something to be respected.

Listening to Ember's question as she advanced with footsteps clanking gently against the Durasteel grate beneath them. "According to my memory? Take a right, this will lead us pass the Guards' barracks and armoury, there's a heavily fortified security check-point which protects the Turbolifts leading upto the spire's precipice where the control center is located." Anari pivots in her boots with impressive dexterity around the corner formed by safety railing advancing confident in the knowledge. "Its' protected by a one-thousand, three-hundred milimeter thick depleted duranium kinetically-restrained blast door with three-hundred milimeter diameter Durasteel locking bolts so yourself and Master Belmont will need to use your lightsabers to cut a hole in it. It must be a hole because the locking mechanism has a thick Turadium backplate which will take too long, cut around it. When we reach it I'll cover the both of you." Anari finishes only for a moment moving with the pair of Jedi before finding herself unable to share further information regarding the facility's defences. "Also, there are a number of spider-holes along these hallways which are operated from the Control Center so watch your step, the bottom of the holes burns at several thousand degrees. Might I add this is all assuming the current charming residents haven't renovated the facility, so what I know could be out-dated or incomplete." Taking a breath Anari makes one final flippant comment realizing the length of her technical rant about the facility with a small level of embarrassment. "Okay I'll be quiet now." With obviously intimate knowledge about this particular structure and the sentence spoken before her final comment it was obvious the Sephi woman had some level of familiarity with the structure's design, atleast prior to when the Sith Empire took control of it perhaps she'd been a Warden here or even more foreboding a Soldier under the Sith's banner? The truth was neither and elusive given the Sephi woman closely guarded her own past even from the Praxeum's Jedi, a few of the tradesmen who had worked on its' construction swore up and down they'd witnessed her use force powers though Anari was ever coy about any training in using that mystical power that permeated through all life. Ever-confident they pushed on with Anari inwardly knowing that despite all these defences the Citadel failed once to contain its' prisoners and it would fail again today.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

The Citadel | Control Room​

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As he lounged on an oversized, cushioned hoverchair - a token of a certain Darth Voracitos - alarms bothered Vesper more than the intruders - they were repetitive, shrill, unpleasant. Yes, he thought, intruders. I know. A minute would have been enough to make it quite clear. He wondered, briefly, how dense the guards they had at their Jedi holding facility had to be.

"We have intruders, my lord." A warden told Darth Vesper.

Ah.

As the armored troopers and various uniformed personnel scuttled about the control room, sweat slicking their brows - more from knowing they were under Sith supervision than the thought of a Jedi prison break (it was always the Jedi, so safe guess) - one was far more deadly than the others. The stress was part of the fun: loyal Imperials were the cutest little toys to play with, the way they'd sway and bend for every petty desire. It was the reason he loved to give impromptu "performance reviews" of his personnel. As viewscreens lit up with pictures of different cells and hallways from various angles, the Force tugged at Vesper's own perceptions, pointing him towards the various light presences flickering into being: insects crawling into an open trap in hopes of snatching a poison gift out of a slicked pit, as far as he was concerned.

But then again, that was what made this so amusing. The hopelessness of it all. The joy of drawing people into the iron cages made just for them, then breaking them there.

Shifting on his cushion, the Sith craned his neck back towards the guards. He tapped his chin briefly, wondering. The presences were shifty, hard to pin down - obviously, they wanted stealth on their side. But he wasn't some blind apprentice - he could tell that there were more people infiltrating than there were on camera.

"Sweep the system for slicing. Refresh all cameras." Nothing. Nothing new, anyways. In that case...

"Send an electrical pulse through the ventilation systems to flush out any rats scurrying about. The moment any intruder comes on camera, I want eyes on them and follow them - connect the data to the general map and stream it to my hoverchair in real time, with updates."

"My lord?"

"I can't just stay here - that would be unspeakably rude. We have guests, warden. I'll see to their welcome personally."

With that, the reclining figure began to drift down the hallways, the whisper of a cruel smile across his lips.

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[member="Anari Mero"], [member="Ember Farseer"], [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Romi Jade"], [member="Alden Belmont"], [member="Tarsus"], [member="Harper Kade"], [member="Mishel Noren"], [member="Darth Ophidia"], [member="Alm"], [member="Aten Ramses"], [member="Felicity Skye"]​

 

[Felicity Skye]

With the young Alm’s stride overtaking Felicity’s she stopped after the towering Nasvalo who was ready, and willing to break down doors. “No! Wait. We don’t know what’s beyond this door.” She replied giving the young girl her answer through blaring alarms and the small sound of the comlink she’d been given. Felicity answered, bringing her wrist halfway between her and Alm.

“We read you loud and clear, Ember. And we will. I promise you.” Felicity answered. She kept the com up through a patch of silence and what followed was something Felicity had only ever heard once before, but she knew the right answer to.

“Always.” She responded.

Closing the line on the com, she turned her attention back to the door and reached out with her feelings, to no avail. “I can’t sense anything beyond this door…” She puzzled. “It’s this place. It’s clouding my connection to the force…” Felicity looked to Alm. “But I trust your instincts. Do it.” Felicity watched to see the youthful Nasvalo break down the door.

[member="Ember Farseer"] [member="Alm"]

 

[Warchief Waddles]

Sweat beaded on the Jedi’s neck as he still attempted to lower himself down the ventilation shaft, he had no idea how many floors he’d gone down but at this point, Aten didn’t care. He wanted out, the oppressive heat and humidity made it incredibly difficult to take in deep breaths. Looking down what remained of the shoot Aten only had about 15 feet left. Above him was nothing but the darkness that he’d spent only the force knew how long descending. He’d sweated completely through his shirt, blonde hair now appearing disheveled. Then he felt something it was a tingling sensation that started at the back of his neck and slowly crawled its way along Aten’s scalp. Goosebumps rose up on the Morellian’s skin and an all too familiar sensation overtook him. Danger! Aten thought but he didn’t know from where, the alarms continued blaring distracting the Jedi but then he felt it. A buzzing at first it was just a static shock that made him flinch then came a humming sound one that shook the vents.

Well, Kark… Aten thought as his mind connected the dots, they were sending an electric pulse through the ventilation shaft. Of course, they would, these were the Sith! Shifting his legs Aten let himself free fall the last fifteen feet through the ventilation shaft, there was no more time to move cautiously. If he was caught by the pulse at best he would simply be left convulsing in the ventilation shaft, and on the other end, he could be left as nothing more than a smoldering husk. He wasn’t taking his chances. Bending his knees slightly and leaning his upper body forwards the moment his feet touched the ground he rolled forward. Coming out of the roll onto a knee Aten held a saber hilt in his right hand. Thumb pressing in the red activation stud Aten bathed the vents in an azure glow. Spinning the hilt in his grasp the Jedi plunged it into the vent and began carving out a circle. The metal turned a mixture of reds and oranges as Aten burned his way through his muscles straining against the thick metal. Every second possibly bringing him closer to his demise.

Aten’s hair began to stand completely as the static electricity preceding the wave had reached him. The humming was far too close and now sounded as though it was mixed with a high-pitched whistling. With a final movement, Aten completed his cut and leap down through the hole in the nick of time. Landing in a crouch Aten smirked. Gonna have to try better than that! The Jedi thought then the scent of burning leather filled his nose and his back felt hot. Shrugging out of his coat Aten threw it on the ground stomping on the jacket with his boot trying to put out the flames that were attempting to consume it. “That was my favorite one.” Aten groaned as he resigned himself to the fate of the jacket. Looking up he saw two Sith guards staring at him, and Aten stared back. He stared into the visors of the Sith and saw what they did. A man with a layer of dust on him so thick he resembled a powdered pastry, frazzled hair, and carrying a lightsaber. Aten looked like a madman!

Without question, the guards raised their blaster rifles at the Jedi who in turn raised his saber. Letting loose with an array of bolts they attempted to shoot the Jedi down. Right leg moving back and left moving forward and slightly to the side Aten entered the basic stance of Soresu the hilt of his saber at waist level. The first two shots Aten simply moved his wrists deflecting one into the ceiling and the other into the ground. The next two with another slight movement of his wrist tilting the saber diagonally he sent the other two back to their owners striking both the guards in the chest. Each bolt struck the guards in their guts sending them reeling back where they lay on the ground groaning. Aten could finish them but he had no intention of doing so, it was not a Jedi’s duty to take a life especially when the foes were defenseless. Turning his back on them Aten began a sprint down the corridor. Why couldn’t anyone have put a karking map up?!

 

[Nixia Amabilia]

Rumble.

Misty paths converge into a larger one leaving options rather misunderstood. Time itself seemed to slow and people began to appear. They had no faces but she felt as if she knew them all in one way or another. Some being lighter than others and the rest shrouded. Shifting a gaze to each and every one of them Nixia could see everything but not clearly. Her perception began to shake. Electricity surged about the two paths and cries of pain shrieked.

Rumble.

With a slight gasp of breath the young woman opened her eyes blinking several times. Her orange irises glew ever so slightly. Her vision honed in to the flash of lights in the room she was mediating in. Visions were getting more and more confusing. Next her hearing came back into focus and the the sound of the alarms sounded off into her head. "Ugh..." Nixia groaned and slowly got up. Her hands fixing her attire which consisted of mainly causal black clothing with a Corellian jacket that sported a furred neck. Her favorite outfit. One could argue it made her look more like smugglar trash than the elegance of Sith, but she cared not.

Stepping out of the room she resided in the Icarii's head turned first left and then to the right down the corridors. The same lights and alarms were going off and oddly a smell came to her nose. Charred and burnt. Down the left hall a guard groaning crawled toward her direction, One arm pulling himself slowly to his feet and the other rested on his gut. Nixias expression changed as she rushed to his aid holding him firm and assisting him on his feet to lean against the wall. " No leave me be! Ill go back for my commrade in a minute." he grunted in pain.

" He came from the ventilation shaft... jedi." And with that the guard pushed her away gently. A Jedi? Without a second thought Nixia unclipped her lightsaber from her belt and jogged down the corridor. Her heart speeding up more and more. " Ive never seen a Jedi before..." she muttered in her breath. She only knew what the sith archives had taught her.

And that was...

...Jedi were scum.

 

[Cassus Stoma]

It seemed as if the Jedi had thrown themselves all around the seemingly impenetrable complex in order to enter from a wide variety of angles, each facing dangerous obstacles themselves; be it from a Sith, or the complex itself. It was a dangerous place for a Padawan, even one who recently delved into some of the most well-guarded secrets of the Jedi. Jace was far more prepared than ever before, yet still, nothing could prepare as much as he needed to be. With each new mission it was a new challenge to face, something to overcome on the path to being the best Jedi he can be. At the end of the day, nobody ever said that it was going to be easy.

The Padawan found himself in a vertical shaft, peering over his shoulder at all times in an attempt to see where he was to place his foot next. It was a lengthy climb, but it took him into the heart of the Citadel. One hand and one foot after another- better not slip, it was a long way down. Heavy breaths escaped him, a tense feeling in his finger tips as his weight fell upon them. Then... a loud klaxon alarm rung true. Jace began to sweat, and his eyes went wide. Beneath him he watched as each small section seemed to cut itself off, ready to bisect the young man he dared to stand in their way. He moved as quickly as he could, dropping himself onto a ledge and hunching over just in time feel a smidge of his hair be sliced off. Now, tucked away as he felt trapped within a durasteel container.

Still, the fight went on. The Padawan's right hand grasped at his side, pulling the Lightsaber from his belt. Those fingers of him shuffled along the hilt, pressing in on the button to ignite the blue blade that accidentally pierced the thin layered, fresh ceiling. He began to angle it to the floor, carving a circular hole in it. Allowing himself to move through it, and onto the next layer. A movement repeated over, and over, and over again. One thing was for sure, and it was that Jace was going to be here for a long time.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Ember Farseer"] | [member="Anari Mero"]

Was she?

Why did Alden feel profound wrongness when Ember said that. He had never been a master of the esoteric arts, never been one with the Force as some seemed to be. But throughout the years Alden had learned to trust his gut and his gut was currently sending him a host of mixed messages. Logic told him there was absolutely no reason to feel [member="Harper Kade"] here now. Why would she be on Lola Sayu out of all the places she could be? It was a long way off from Dellalt, no?

And why would she be here just as they were infiltrating it?

"It doesn't feel right, Ember." Alden finally said softly as they strode further into the facility. Then Anari- head tilted at the address of Master. "Just Alden will do, Anari." He had never been very comfortable with the whole hierarchical address.

Didn't seem right when Alden barely knew what he was doing half the time.

They halted before a crossroads- one of them towards the elevators of the control room, the other... deeper and lower into the facility. Alden frowned, before placing his hand on Ember's shoulder, squeezing it to get his attention. "You know I never worried all that much about the Force. But the control room? It will take precious time getting through it and we are here to help, Ember, not to play chicken with the Sith. We should go deeper down, that will get their attention just as much and we might actually have a shot of finding people."

Any people.

The feeling in his chest increased and it made Alden worry. Was he compromising the mission with his worries? Maybe the control room was the pragmatic choice here.

"Harp?" There was the shadow of the Darkside all around them, but he tried to tap that connection... so fragile, so breakable, but trying to reach her regardless. Anything to get some clarity in the moment.