Eater of Worlds | The Confederacy

[Alkor Centaris]

There were a multitude of questions regarding the situation, and the immediate response was "proceed as normal." A contingent of attackers moved on the Confederate holdings at Shadows Point, and a number of them already there were ready to come to its defense. The Ministry of Secrets and several CDF ships coordinating with them moved to investigate the Fleet Marshall who had initially given the order. So, what was his place in all of this?

The Vicelord bid him watch.

It was unlike his usual list of tasks in that it required only passivity, and for Brukhalian to learn as much as he could without actually interfering. I want to know what is going on, but we will discover that in time. I have faith in my ministry of secrets. What I do not have is a fully developed understanding of how the Confederacy reacts under pressure. Can best friends recover when pitted against each other? Will my strongest men refuse to fight when the chips are all on the table? You will watch, Brukhalian, and you will take note. Who can I trust to act? Who should I be wary of? Do not make yourself overtly known unless otherwise instructed.

Metus' words echoed in his thoughts. The idea that he would not fight the enemy today was boring at best, and infuriating at its worst. He placed the mask, featureless and pure white, over his face so that his identity would be nothing more than "the Vicelord's dog."

Still not a dog anyone wanted to fool with.

Brukhalian stepped out into the main corridor of the frigate as they raced toward Apatros. "My Lord," an officer saluted as he appeared from his quarters. "What are our orders?"

"Hang back at the edge of the system, hail the commanding officers of each fleet, and get a status report from both sides. No need to engage at this time."

"We shouldn't help defend Apatros?"

"That is not the order we were given," he answered simply.

"Of course," the officer bowed, then headed for the helm.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Wearing: Jet Robes | Corellia Digital Beats (in use/around neck)​

Wielding: Riptide | Light-Shield Bracelet | HoloBoy Advanced ​

Music Currently Blasting: 3LAU x DNMO [Falling]​

​

This castle was rocking.

Not in a good way. Though, any other time, Zak would have appreciated the way the beat dropped. Those turbolasers really brought the bass with that impact. Not a lot of rhythm. Who ever was firing at the planet really needed to get a better sense of timing.

Reaching up to the headphones that were draped atop his shoulders, the youngling casually thumbed the switch on the side that turned the wireless device on. The headphones paired with the HoloBoy, supplying a new outlet for the child's music. The sounds of synth-pop trap began trickling from about the young Nautolan's head, radiating from the pair of headphone speakers that framed his neck.

Dashing through the halls, the green skinned youth shot through the interior in flagrant violation for the usual no running rules. Because rebel. And also because he was pretty sure that the roof was about to come crashing down. Sliding past an open doorway, the child moonwalked back a pace as he turned his head and peered inside.

[member="Vytal Noctura"] was doing that voodoo that she do. Arcane symbols. Sigils? Runes? Was there supposed to be a difference? How did one determine at what point a rune stopped and a sigil began? Or even arcane circles, what was that?

In any case, past where the child saw Vytal drawing pretty pictures of seemingly random lines and chit, he caught a glimpse of [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] and the boy visibly perked up at the realization that she was here.

This lady knew how to party. And Zak could respect that. Plus, he was certain that she knew the secret to creating the perfect ginger beer. Spicy and sweet, and guaranteed to make you burp with every sip!

Sprinting for a few steps, the youngling effortlessly slid across the floor over to where the sorceress was standing. "Hi, Miss Pomsty!" the child greeted the woman, flashing a cheesy grin that displayed his teeth.

"Have you seen the weather report?" the boy asked nonchalantly, setting up the punch line as he said, "Cloudy with chance of lasers!"

 

[Adron Malvern]

​

​

Sweat sank down La'teriag's brow as he watched the fleet's bombardment slow to a halt. The fleet had unleashed hell for a time and it's compliment had already deployed upon Apatros. So far, the operation was going well. Still, the Besalisk was nervous about what was to come. It would be no simple thing for the Confederate soldiers to find out just how this had begun, yet it was simple for the fighting to come to an end.

"What the- Fleet Marshal. One of our ships is transmitting a..." A deck officer began to speak, his eyes crossing over the terminal before him. "Sir! We've gotten information that the order to fire upon Shadow's Point was not sanctioned by the Office of the Vicelord! Captain Anderion is asking for the order to be reviewed." The Fleet Marshal inhaled sharply, taking only a moment of pause before speaking. "I have already re-verified, Ensign. Continue the attack." He commanded, before looking around. The Officers were uncertain and it showed. They all had that look of hesitation, as if they could tell something was wrong.

"Perhaps I shall take a look once more. For now, continue the attack." The Fleet Marshal turned from his staff. With that they were slightly reassured and commenced with their duties. The Commander made his way through the blast door's into the main spine of the ship. As he marched down the hall, the same ensign who had spoken to him earlier was now following close behind him. "Sir, do you have a moment?!" The Fleet Marshal had hoped to contact the Lady of the Night and seek out her advice, but he could not do so with the ensign with him. Best to see what he needed and dismiss him.

"What is it, Ensign?" The Commander asked as they made their way down to the communications terminal.

"Sir, I was looking over some of the reports from the battle....The Mandragora are fighting back but...Well there are just a few things that don't line up." The Besalisk waved a hand through the air. "We'll look at the information after I am done confirming the Vicelord's will. Not before." The man glanced over to the Marshal with an arched brow. "But sir...if there is something off here then lives are at st-"

In the empty hall a single blaster sound went off. At some point one of La'teriag's lower arms had unwrapped from his back. That arm held a blaster pistol that had fired a round straight into the Ensign's gut. The man recoiled from the blast, doubling over before he fell to the ground, dead. The Fleet Marshal glanced back down the hall before turning and making his way towards the main hangar. It was time to go.

 

[Alwine Daye]

Location: Shadow's Point, Inside
Wearing: Obsidian type Strike Armor | "Executor" Boots Exclusive
Wielding: Obsidian Knight Sword | WindWhisper
Allies In a Different Part of the Castle: [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] [member="Voph"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Tallara"] | + Open
Enemies: [member="Lirka Ka"] | + Open

Little Sithling? Her planet? Alwine paused, blinking in surprise. She twirled around to look at her friend as realization dawned upon her; Lirka did not realize where and when she was. She knew the elf had been part of many wars, both with the Confederacy and before that, bred specifically for the purpose of being a war machine.

How far into the past was she? Which war against the Sith was her mind convinced of that she was in? And when, by the name of the Gods, had she become so fast?!

Alwine ducked, avoiding being smashed by the gargantuan woman by the width of a single strand of hair, and set to run again. How she wished she could shift into the wolf now – but there was no time. A shift would demand a full four minutes out of her, and even four seconds would at present spell her death out.

Taking another turn, and another twist, the petite blonde continued to run, run until they both reached the courtyard.

Given their current predicament, it was only here that she felt now safe. For over a year now she had been practicing, working on the very first skill that [member="Maple Harte"] had taught her. No longer did she need to touch the plants or the ground when she worked, unless it was with specific intent. But for this?

The trees around her and Lirka began to move, their branches growing, all moving towards the elf. Alwine had no intention of killing her friend. She needed help, a professional to look at her. Not… Not whatever they had done to her on Kamino. The branches of the trees would continue to move, no matter what, as Alwine ran in circles, hoping to keep the elf chasing her while the branches began to form a strengthened cocoon to lock Lirka in.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

​

Current Location: Planet Surface.
Objective: Board the CNS Maer'Tok
Allies: Knights Obsidian




Pom had never been on the receiving end of [member="Madalena Antares"]’ reproach. She did not know how to reply actually, for if she proclaimed innocence, if believed, she might be asked to fall in the ranks of those drafted to attack, then she might not be sent to the ship. With Madalena a formidable force user and military strategist, Pom would find it time consuming to slip away from her line of sight. She shall plot a different method of gaining access onboard if necessary. Standing still and conversing is just a civil courtesy she is offering.

[member="Zak Dymo"] sort-of oblivious, dropped in at her side. She placed a hand upon his shoulder and stepped in front of him to shield him.

The Lord Marshal’s curtness surprised her only a little bit, for Pom doesn’t make friends easily, which is typically a mutual decision. The events which lead up to this drastic measure remained a mystery for nothing substantial was revealed.

She spoke in a low but clear tone, hoping to spare the child witness to her words. “Lord Marshal, if my own Master (the Vicelord) wishes me dead, then I expect the common courtesy that he would honor me with his wishes directly. Don’t you think he deserves such a treat?” In all honesty, Pom’s trust in [member="Darth Metus"] never wavered in the slightest even during such a drastic measure as this. That this is all some orchestration to destroy what little bonds existed, whispered to her in a spiritual sense, carried on the wind. Believe it that Pom has little trust in most others beforehand, at least the spirits are willing to try to convince her that her views are purely personal bias. She received the accusations voiced by the resident spirits loud and clear.

Pom Stych Tivé had recently succumbed to a metamorphosis. She is connected to the Fanged God for the first time since leaving Dathomir. Her past and current lives’ knowledge of the Force and her Magick has been brought forth into her conscious mind, and all the memories of people and events she willed eradicated from her experiences her god had granted her. Her entire pastlife and recent losses she no longer recalls. Only memories of events which built her up and did no harm remain. No longer would her usual thoughts on the morbidity revolving around her self awareness hinder her personal growth. Her body was rewoven anew by her god; no longer did she associate herself as a reincarnation, for she did not remember such a horror ever existed. Her god forged her past pain into an Onyx amulet which generates for her a deeper connection to him through the Darkside of the Force. He shall not be removed from her heart. He rests within it interconnected with her, a Darkside medium by which to be channeled through the very Force that he mastered during his time living amidst the physical realm. Through this medium, the Darkside of the Force, Pom is now able to reach and utilize the Fanged God as her empowerment. Henceforth, this is how the Fanged God of the Nightsisters' is no longer bound to Dathomir.

To [member="Vytal Noctura"] she spoke once again, ‘What of the younglings, Sister? Can we guarantee their safety? Have they been relinquished for safe keeping outside of the immediate area? Of course, the military is accepting those who surrender immediately.’

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Shadow's Point Barracks
Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Nozhi Blades | 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Mos Wrist Link | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Allies: [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] [member="Voph"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Zak Dymo"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Tallara"]
Enemies: [member="Lirka Ka"] [member="Luna Terrik"] [member="Madalena Antares"]

With [member="Tallara"] at her heels, Scherezade pushed forward. One of her lightsabers was in her hand, casting a green light that enhanced the glow of her eyes. The anger that rippled from her was a tangible one. Scherezade was so done with the chit that it wasn't even funny.

Most of the halls seemed to be deserted. More than once did she try her wrist link, trying to see if she could find anyone on any frequency, but all the lines were dead. Whoever was attacking them had put enough thought into it, had considered all the possibilities. Lack of communication, mayhem, confusion… Their enemies had studied them. Knew them. Intimately.

"What can you do?" she half growled at the blue skinned girl, "If we come across enemies, what are your abilities?"

It was important to know. Save precious few seconds. Whether either of them liked it or not, they were battle buddies now, mission buddies. The blue skinned girl was going to depend on her as much as Scherezade was going to depend on the girl herself. That was how it usually worked.

Skidding up a flight of stairs, the sounds from outside continued. Bombardment. She was going to find whoever was in charge and drain the blood right out through their eyeballs.

But only now that they were on a different floor could she breathe a little. Realize what was there. Scents. She recognized most of them. "This way," she mumbled, leading the girl with her to the hall where the others were gathered.

Glowing green eyes befell [member="Voph"], [member="Vytal Noctura"], and [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"]. Part of her wanted to something similar to their meeting on Mandalore, but she knew better.

"Comms are dead. You probably know this by now. Anyone got an update for me before I go outside and start slaughtering?" she asked them, all her anger now funneled into a wicked grin that let them know she was not messing about. Heads would roll this day, absent of blood that flowed through them.

 

[Tsian Denira]

[member="Kiff Brayde"]​

​

Tsian couldn't sleep. She wasn't sure why, exactly, but she was combating it the best way she knew how. Hot mug of tea, curled up in a comfy chair with a book. A boring book. Really boring. This particular book being a history on some obscure mining planet Tsian had never heard of before. In the dim light of the fire place at her side, Tsian read and willed herself to become tired. Gods knew she needed sleep after the day she had. But that was all shattered the second her Com chirped.

Tsian sighed. She was off duty. Who was bothering her, and why? She checked her communicator. It was Marse. Odd for him to be contacting her at this hour. Inviting her for drinks, perhaps? "What can I do for you, Marse?" Tsian shut the book and placed it on the table beside her chair. "Viceroy Tsian! We--" "Marse, you know as well as I do I hate that title." She was rather cranky about being disturbed at this hour. But she felt the color drain from her face as Marse continued. "Shove it, Tsian, Voph's in trouble. Shadow's Point, Apatros System. He's calling for full deployment." Tsian launched herself from her chair, running to her room to change back into her uniform. "I'm on my way. What's the situation?"

Marse filled her in. A confederate force was attacking Shadow's Point, and from what they could tell it was throwing the network into disarray. Some say Adron himself had authorized the attack. Others said it was unfounded. What mattered was the Knights Obsidian were under attack, and Voph was calling for help. The command was issued, and Tsian was sprinting through the halls of the Golden Hall, still fastening her officer's coat. She arrived at the shuttle in record time. "Tsian to all forces, emergency jump as soon as your crew is flight-capable. We're jumping blind, no idea what's on the other side. Get there, hold the line, and no matter what is waiting for you, have faith that your brothers will arrive as soon as they can."

As soon as her boots touched the cold metal deck of the Resolve, Tsian was at a run again. "Helm, I'm on board. Jump as soon as you're able, don't wait on me." The panic was starting to subside. Now Tsian was angry. What was the Confederacy doing? Why were they attacking? Why Shadows Point? It made no sense. There were a number of targets better suited. But why would they turn on their own? On the Knights Obsidian? Tsian sighed quietly. "Begin broadcasting a message. Tell the attacking fleet to stand down. Make it utterly clear that any ships that continue to open fire, on us or on Shadow's Point, WILL be annihilated without a second's hesitation."

In the skies above Apatros, chaos reigned. As the Confederate fleet continued their assault, fire rained from the sky. Then, a ship entered the system. The Vengeant Dawn had returned. As it streaked through the starry expanse, it began broadcasting a message. "This is Colonel Marse to all Confederate Ships in the area. Cease fire, Immediately. Failure to comply will result in your demise. Until such a time as this action can be verified with the office of Exarch Malvern, you are to stand down." A rather bold message for a single ship. But it wasn't a single ship. It dove, running back to the planet's surface. Shadow's Point was an academy. There were students who couldn't hold their own. Children. Vengeant Dawn meant to rescue them. Behind it, another ship emerged from hyperspace. The Resolve had jumped straight to the edge of the combat, ramming into a frigate and destroying it as the mighty dreadnought entered the system. Cannons began targeting those ships that had not heeded Marse's orders. And as more ships began to pour into the system, Tsian smiled. The Cavalry was here. "Get comms established, make contact with the Survivors. I want Exarch Malvern on the coms too. We need to figure out just who exactly gave this order."

 

[Vytal Noctura]

OBJECTIVE: Defense, Evacuate, Whatever it Takes​

EQUIPMENT: Outfit, Amulet, Potion Belt, Scroll Case, Blaster Pistol, Rings, Dagger​

ALLIES: [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] | [member="Voph"] | [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Alwine Lechner"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Zak Dymo"] | [member="Tallara"] | [member="Kiff Brayde"] | [member="Tsian Denira"]​

ENEMIES: [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="Lirka Ka"] | [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] | [member="McKenna Rory"]​

​

The Mandragora do not surrender, Vytal Noctura returned the thought across space and time to [member="Pom Stych Tivé"]. Nor do we stand for the slaughter.

"Upon wicked waters and blood soaked shores. Amidst the fallen and the cries of woe. Sojourned from the living to the dead. Laid before us the path ahead." Green flame enveloped the Nightsister as she plunged her heart and soul Beyond this world. Her hands wove a tapestry of energy before her near the back of the Main Hall. Even her eyes began to burn with the bright and sickly familiar glow. They would not surrender, and they would not perish. Not here. Not now. And Fanged God willing not ever.

Vytal thrust her hands forward, and out burst a plume of flame. Once burnt away in but a second a hole in space was left in its wake.

"Go," the pale woman looked to those that had assembled. Many had drawn the ears and eyes of resident and guest alike. If it had been necessary Vytal herself would have shaken the very foundation of the world to draw people to their place of refuge. Any left behind would remain of their own accord or foolishness; and one Sister did not have the strength to hold every hand. "It is safe through here. Quickly."

The younglings will be safe, Sister. Do not compromise your mission for us.

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]'s words -- a familiar voice -- drew Vytal's burning gaze. "Stand your ground, Sister. Let them come. If it is death they desire, they will have it once they pass through those doors."

"Hevn," she called out to [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"], "you will fight boldly as ever. Yet once our number have gone, I expect you to join them. You think I rushed to your side without thought of what resided in these walls?" Vytal had in fact left instructions in her wake. A number of artifacts adorned her and her fingers that very moment to sustain whatever she had thrown herself into. Hevn's call for aid hadn't been terribly specific, but its location had been known. If Shadow's Point was under siege then the greatest of its treasure had to be secured. The Mandragora could not allow objects of power to fall into enemy hands. Witches and Warlocks alike should have been working toward that end as they spoke. The gathering of evacuees to one place had been as much for ease as it was to draw them away from the efforts of others. Vytal only hoped they could secure enough before the enemy forces took advantage of the chaos.

As much as she appreciated his willingness to sacrifice him for the greater good -- or maybe for fun -- Vytal would not wish to see her Brother killed any more than her Sister. Were not all Mandragora to be family one unto another? Then as Vytal's family she would protect them by whatever means necessary, and set fire to anyone that opposed those designs.

 

[Lirka Ka]

[SIZE=11pt]She was the hunter. The wolf was the prey, and truthfully: Lirka was far more a beast than she was, for she barely could’ve been counted as running: she was bounding, practically hounding after her on all fours. A savage mockery of the vicious and proud warrior she had been.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“I WILL SEVER YOUR HEAD FROM YOUR NECK AND EAT YOUR STILL BEATING HEART!”[/SIZE]

Now that was far more typical. She hunted after the Lupine with a renewed fury, she didn’t seem to tire. An affront to nature to even the most industrially minded.

Amusing that it was nature that attempted to use to contain her, but this was not the Lirka [member="Alwine Lechner"] knew. She was stronger, faster, a crazed and broken woman who could see only blood: for after all, that is the only reason she still lived. Thick branches broke as a child snapped swigs, her klaive spreading flame to whatever wood she could. This was not the first forest Lirka had burned down, Alwine would remember that.

 

[Adron Malvern]

Darkness split from shadow as the Exarch of The Confederacy melded into reality. His amethyst eyes were the first to properly form, piercing through all that surrounded him and gazing out listlessly. His body was covered in crimson armor that seemed to shimmer with the Dark Side of the Force. His presence was unknown, as he had wrapped himself in a thick veil of The Force to keep others from detecting his presence. The moment his armored boot stepped into the dusty Apatros surface, he could not help but let out a sound of utter distaste. His hand pushed a lock of hair from his eyes, pulling it back over the crown of his head as he looked up to the darkened sky.

"Imbeciles." He hissed through gritted teeth. His hand stretched out, calling on The Force to guide him as to just what the hell was going on. He could feel so many thoughts, so many feelings, but they did not sync into a rhythm of war. No, most of these thoughts were of confusion.

Why are we being attacked by the CDF?

Why are we attacking the Mandragora?

Where is the Fleet Marshal?

How can we get out of this alive?

So many questions. The Exarch drew his hand back, snorting softly at the reality of what was happening. It did not take a genius to realize this was all incredibly wrong. The Confederate ships that loomed in Apatros' upper atmosphere had rained hell upon Shadow's Point. Luckily the base still stood and it seemed the death toll was as minimal as one could hope.

Ironically it was not the battle that had drawn the Exarch. It was a transmission sent out across nearby Confederate space. The transmission stated that the Exarch had called for an attack on Apatros to end. Well, it was not an unlikely thing to happen, as Adron had no clue as to why this massacre was occurring. Yet, he had never sent out such a transmission. Which meant someone was using his name to end this mess. Even the thought of that caused him to grunt in disapproval. Still, there were more important matters to be settled. The Exarch crossed his arms over his chest, giving the skies an unsure gaze. What the hell was going on?

His body twitched as a dark presence fell over him. He glanced back to the barren lands behind him with an agitated gaze. "Damn it, I'm hurrying." He muttered before turning back to the barrens as he uncrossed his arms. The Dark Side of the Force surrounded him, washing over him and filling him with a power that could only be described as wondrous. His eyes seemed to faintly glow as he knelt down into the rocky ground below. The Sith Lord pressed a hand to the dirt, muttering softly as he did. The chant was low and deep, rooted in the ancient Sith dialect he had grown fluent in. The winds twisted and writhed as purple sparks exploded out from the air surrounding the Exarch. He inhaled deeply, calling on the Dark Side to fold space and time at his command. Those purple sparks exploded out into amethyst flames that lashed out at the earth below, spreading like a wild fire and engulfing the land around him. The Exarch bowed his heads as the flames parted to reveal....

[member="Darth Metus"]​

 

[Ciri Jade]

[member="Holt"]

Accessing the ship's computer and scouring it's files was a piece of cake. Copying the ship's comms logs to her datapad, she scoured through messages of recent days that may have been received by the escort vessel which may enlighten them in any way but there was none to be found except for the orders given to commence the attack on Shadow Point, claiming the Knights as traitors. Surely the Marshal's own ship would hold the real secrets and if they could get their hands on the man himself, even better.

Her own comms came to life as she walked through the corridor, heading for the rendezvous. As Holt's voice spoke in her ear, two crew members of the Red Trumpet walked by, Ciri waiting until they were far enough to respond. "Nearing rendezvous now."

A few seconds later, she stepped through a blastdoor before stopping to close it up as it has been before she arrived. Turning on her heel, her eyes set upon the ship they would be using to board the Marshal's. "Everything in order to go? If so, what's your plan once we are onboard?"

​

 

[Tallara]

Allies: @Bedrovelse Hevn | @Voph | @Pom Stych Tivé | @Alwine Lechner | @Vytal Noctura | @Zak Dymo | @Daxton Bane | @Scherezade deWinter​

Enemies: [member="Lirka Ka"] | [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="Madalena Antares"]​

Location: Shadow's Point, Barracks​

Equipment: Obsidian Knight Sword, Obsidian Type Strike Armor, modified DL-44 blaster pistol

Whoever thought it was a good idea to attack us is in for a surprise.​

​

Tallara wasn't planning to get her ears blown out today, so yeah, she plugged them. Of course she was pretty sure everyone was up thanks to the call of the cyborg Dark Jedi, but perhaps they needed a little more motivation to get out of bed. If she was being honest, a little more urgency on her part might've made this all much easier -- such that she might be a little more informed than what little the Knight she'd found herself with had told her.

Still, she wasn't about to lose her only companion disappearance by walking. The Pathfinder strode quickly alongside Scherezade, not missing a beat to answer the other woman's question. "Close quarters mostly. I'm not exactly a specialist, but I'm competent enough, even though straight fights aren't my thing. If you need me to do something, I'll do it, but aside from that... guess I'll hack and slash and whatnot. Tail helps too." The tail poked lightly at the other woman as they moved quickly towards the main hall. "I'm guessing your thing is knives."

Finally they arrived at a good defensive spot. Tallara was somewhat relieved by the fact they had so many competent Force users among them -- the presences of the four spurred her to be something greater. She only hoped she could achieve their level of power and mastery in her lifetime, especially considering all the time she'd already lost.

The woman drew her sword and took a deep breath, focusing herself for the battle to come. Whatever the enemy, they would prevail... at what cost, of course, was yet to be seen.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Shadow's Point Barracks
Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Nozhi Blades | 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Mos Wrist Link | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Allies: [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] [member="Voph"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Zak Dymo"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Tallara"]
Enemies: [member="Lirka Ka"] [member="Luna Terrik"] [member="Madalena Antares"]

Scherezade had heard every word her new blue skinned companion uttered, plans already forming in her mind. Part of her wanted to pause and have a quick spar just to see that tail in action; it had been… Well, she'd never actually fought someone who had a usable tail. She wanted to see what it was like, add potential instinctive moves to her arsenal. But now was hardly the time. She still nodded with a proud grin as the younger one asked about the knives though. To the Sithling, they were more than a weapon; they were a passion, and the true extension of her body and soul.

Looking at Vytal speak, Scherezade cast a curious glance at Hevn. Their meetings had been short and did not truly include other people in any way that resembled what was going on now, and to see another witch extract dominance over him and give him orders made her sort of want to smirk, sort of want to see how he would handle it. She knew he was a Mandragora, and she knew the dynamics of the Nightsisters well enough. But until that moment, it had been just theoretical knowledge and not actually something tangible.

Yet lacking any actual discussion on the matter, she was not about to tread on them and their group. If he wanted to take orders like that, it was his own business.

But, the group seemed to want to wait for whoever it was that was attacking them to enter, which left Scherezade with more time on her hands than she wanted to. More sounds from the noise outside made it through the shaking walls, but at this point the Sithling just snorted.

"Do you know how to jump between shadows?" she asked Tallara, figuring now would be a good time as any to teach her something useful.

 

[Madalena Antares]

Location: Western Barricade
Wearing: Obsidian Strike Armor (color altered to deep red)
Wielding: Dyntech Power Staff | Yrkaa Sidearm | Meymad
Allies: [member="McKenna Rory"] [member="Luna Terrik"] | + Open!
Enemies?: [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Zak Dymo"] | + Open!

Shots were fired. Madalena gazed at the sky as [member="McKenna Rory"] worked her magic with her people, her ship already working on – and succeeding – in bringing that shield down.

"He tends to order his brothers to perform executions," she replied with a shrug, the confusion clearly showing on her face, "So you may rest assured that neither he nor any of those who still remain loyal to the Confederacy are here to seek you individually out."

What was the Witch speaking of? The entire population of the castle – and Pom among them – had gone turn cloak. That was why they were there. That was why they had to remove them from the castle and reclaim it back to the Confederacy.

Glowing green eyes moved to the child - [member="Zak Dymo"]. Force. Why had she brought one of the children out?

"You realize that if they decide you need to be neutralized, his presence won't help you, right?" she asked, but for the moment, her look was full of compassion. Not for Pomsty – but for the child, whom she did not know. "Please, let us take him away and move him from this area before the bloodshed begins. Surely you've not turned your back against the Confederacy so harshly that you would use someone like him as your meat shield? We can agree or disagree on many things, Mandragora, but not on this. You are not Mandalorian – release the child so that we can assure his life remains safe."

 

[Alwine Daye]

Location: Shadow's Point, Courtyard (outside)
Wearing: Obsidian type Strike Armor | "Executor" Boots Exclusive
Wielding: Obsidian Knight Sword | WindWhisper
Allies In a Different Part of the Castle: [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] [member="Voph"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Daxton Bane"] [member="Tallara"] | + Open
Enemies: [member="Lirka Ka"] | + Open

It was no use. No matter how many branches Alwine tossed at her fat friend, the lardy elf undid them even faster. There was no time, no ability, that the Lupine could use to construct something faster, something better.

Panic began to settle into her bones. She had been certain that by luring Lirka to this part of the castle she would have the upper hand. She had been careful, calculating, she'd even say cunning. And it was all for naught. There was nothing Alwine could think of that she could do better now. To face Like in melee combat was suicide; and yet nothing else seemed to help.

What could she possible do?

Help me…

Alwine had sent the message forward through the Force before she'd understood she was doing it. Those in the castle, any of those who could use the Force, even Lirka herself, would be able to hear her message.

Still she continued to run, to evade. But how much longer? Sooner or later, Alwine knew she would run out of strength, out of energy, and not even the Force would help her. She couldn't discern between friend or foe anymore, as she continued to try to not get hit by the monster that was chasing her.

Help me… she almost cried, sending images of what she was facing to all of them – those who could use the Force, and those who could not. They would all see it.

But would any care? And if any cared, would any even have the time to aid her?

Help! she screamed through the Force's telepathy, the last shreds of her pride and dignity gone as she took a mis-step, sending her sprawling forth only a few feet away from the gigantic elven woman, her hands fumbling to grab WindWhisper and try to shoot [member="Lirka Ka"] somewhere that would hurt.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Spoiler: =)~

Been home sick...and this was on my mind most!

​

Current Location: Planet Surface.
Objective: Board the CNS Maer'Tok
Allies: [member="Ciri Jade"], [member="Holt"] & Knights Obsidian



Pom could not believe what [member="Madalena Antares"] said to her, after all they had been through! Not a whole lot, but more than anyone else she knew outside the Mandragora. Inside she growled with annoyance, feeling stupid for attempting diplomacy. She did not speak a word in her defense because the chastisement was entirely unwarranted. She scowled and broke off her Apparition across the courtyard, disappearing into a plume of black smoke before the eyes of those she had appeared before.

Pom felt the Magick generated behind her back from inside the fortress walls, a Nightsister’s signature she knows well, from her very own sister, an avid force she is quite pleased to have on her side! All the scenarios that played out in her mind to get onboard the ship, and the newest development happens to be the most direct by far. After everyone passed through safely, Pom bent Vytal’s porthole to reach the orbiting ship.

The youngling exclaimed his interest in a phenomenon. So innocent is he, and curious about the universe within which he dwells, the perfect mindset for any witch initiate. Pom did not mind nurturing his development on his field trip as he so called it. She did not however, think that he would plunge into the unknown all alone!

“Zak!” she calls out as the young boy [member="Zak Dymo"] slips into the looming tear in space. “Not without a chaperone, young man!” Immediately she wills herself be transported with him. It felt like spinning head over heels in one fell swoop, and coming upright to stand upon the ground directly under her feet, upside down. The two immediately teleport and materialize upon the Bridge of the CNS Maer'Tok. Pom cut her focus to [member="Vytal Noctura"]’s porthole. It is so very beneficial for the two Nightsisters, that they can understand one another's power enough to come together and join forces in unique ways.

Guns instinctively train onto the two unannounced intruders. The Nightsister shields Zak as she waves a hand, raising a barrier while ripping the weapons from the hands of the Bridge Crewmen and scattering them across the Bridge beyond her. They shall have to get past her to retrieve them. She scowls, prepared to channel more power if challenged further.

Their Captain is not on the Bridge. Crewmen froze where they stood. Pom is not a military officer, nor of Master rank, but her station is still exalted as one member among the Vicelord’s personal hand. However, the military minded always seem to need a push to comply. “You are still in allegiance with your Vicelord?” she snapped curtly, to which the Bridge Crew clamored to return to their posts. It is far more preferable for the non-force sensitive among men to relinquish command to the wanton, than be hailed the patsy responsible to satiate the lusts of a notorious Sith Lord such as [member="Darth Metus"], and potentially fail at the quest.

“Reestablish open communications across the system. Hail the Vicelord. Inform him of your ship’s change in command. Request further instructions.” His is the only Will I serve. "Only his orders will I accept!"

The Sorceress enters the Fleet Marshal’s private quarters through a door off the bridge. She goes down on one knee, in seclusion, her fingers lightly touching upon the floor momentarily. She concentrates on feeling the essence of the crew. She can see what transpired within this room, the blatant treasonous actions of the Fleet Admiral.

Pom senses the Fleet Marshal’s fear and desperation as he currently rampages his way toward the hangar with the intent to escape.

Her eyes fall on the holodevice. How much influencing did it take for him to turn traitor?

Exiting the room and returning to the Bridge, Pom communicates with the Crew, “This is the Vicelord’s Apprentice speaking. I am taking command of this ship. I have seen that Fleet Marshal La'teriag Munik has committed actions apart from the Confederacy, and is now attempting to flee this ship. He is a hostile enemy of this Sovereignty and to be stopped at all cost.”

To the Bridge Crew she barked, “Hail the accompanying ships and notify them of this status update!” They likely won’t believe it, as this information comes from herself, a Knight Obsidian!

Pom Stych Tivé stormed from the Bridge to locate the Fleet Marshal, as infighting broke out among the Crew stationed throughout the ship. They loved the Fleet Marshal and could not believe the accusations against him. The actions of the Nightsister must be treason! For SURE!

Pom had a suspicion her young shadow shall follow after her, this is his field trip after all. It would do him good to bear witness to the power he may someday acquire through his own fingertips, after years of study. She will show him how to hurl things through the air today, things like people. She must reward the boy with a flowing cloak, so that he too can make a fashionable dramatic exit…and twirl! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

 

[Daxton Bane]

Daxton turned around to survey the carnage scattered in the room, the three blades hissing in the air as they vaporized in an instant the blood and guts that they had recently evicerated. The armored clad warrior was able to take two steps forward before collapsing into three separate steaming chunks of meat, never even having a chance to scream in pain as the Sith Lord cut him down to size.

Sharp fangs bared back in a hungry feral grin, as he could feel the blood lust mixing with the Obalisk venom racing through his veins. The reflective armor was battered and soot marked in several places from the battle as he walked with a noticable limp favoring his right side. He knew from the feel of it that the thigh bone was fractured in at least two places, maybe three, but with so many enemies nearby there was no time to rest and heal.

Blades at the ready, he placed his hand against the wall for support as the colony did their work. Gods of the abyss did it hurt. Bone forceably knitting together was never fun, but that pain had to be endured. Spitting out blood from the lip he bit, he hopped gingerly forward as he tired to put more weight on the newly repaired leg, gingerly as it still throbbed and pulsed in agony.

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

Objective: Defend
Location: Shadow’s Point Main Hall
Allies: [member="Voph"] | [member="Vytal Noctura"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Tallara"] | [member="Alwine Lechner"]
Enemies: [member="Lirka Ka"]

Hevn’s focus is ensnared by a development on the battlefield. The sound of the shield generator whines loud as it yields to the fire from the sky above. As it flickers and then finally fails, the thunder of orbital bombardment begins to smash Shadow’s Point. It was so loud now. The planet’s crust was shaking beneath their feet. The sound of structures obliterating and toppling fills the walls of the main hall. Nowhere but here was safe. For how long that was true remained to be seen.

Hevn was teeming with power. A well of darkness only opening its maw wilder to swallow as much as it could fit inside of the conduit of power. He is poised for action, so much so that the arrival of newcomers illicits a very close call on his part. As [member="Scherezade deWinter"] and [member="Tallara"] appear within the midst of the main hall he rounds on them. The large man rears back the first bearing his gauntlet, red jewel shining bloody bright, but keeps it there as he lays eyes on exactly who it was that stepped inside.

He had nearly unleashed his wave of force destruction upon the pair. One that was prepared to rival his efforts on Mandalore. It would’ve been ugly had he not kept off the trigger. If it weren’t for those captivating eyes. Those dazzling glowing emeralds. They belonged to someone with a special place in his heart. Someone he would not hurt. That was saying a lot of anyone as far as it came to him.

A startling wave of emotions strike. First was irritation. What took them so long to heed his call? The base had been all but sacked now. Was Scherezade here to help, or take them down from the inside? Was she collecting the little blue one and procuring her safety? He didn’t like the implications of tardiness during such an event. He didn’t like his train of thought or the accusations that followed. The rest seemed at ease with their arrival. Hevn refuses to be so sure.

If their presence was to defy his paranoia, and they were here to help, he was relieved. Relieved that she had not come to ruin somewhere else within these many walls for him to bury. Relieved that the Firestarter had their backs and would battle beside them. She was as fine a warrior as she was anything else. As fine a warrior as anyone else. At least she was okay. He hadn’t worried before. As much as he didn’t want to now, he wasn’t so sure it would be that easy to turn off.

Will you come if I call? Will you truly fight beside me?

Had she heard him? Or was this something else?

Hevn was almost snarling with rage as he lowers his quivering fist. At the sight of his Valkyrie he softens substantially, and almost instantly. Scherezade offers no greeting whatsoever, and in that he took his hint, whether it linger there or not, to say nothing. Instead jumping straight into an assessment and updates. Hevn does not disarm his spell, but moves his arm into a less threatening position. He begins by gesturing toward [member="Voph"]. “His comms seem to work. The fleet is coming to put an end to this attack. We need only survive long enough to see it through. Shield seems to be down now, too. Time is thin.”

Behind him [member="Vytal Noctura"] was weaving a portal into existence for the worthless to escape. The faster they got out of the way, the better for the ones who actually knew how to weave destruction. As Vytal addresses Scherezade as ‘Sister’, some amusement wiggles into his bones. He wasn’t sure which was more humorous to him. That Scherezade had also met the polar opposite of the Mandragora, with her temperance, wisdom, and stubborn condescension. Or that Sister Vytal had just told the Firestarter to stand idle. As Vytal encourages Scherezade to hold fast, Hevn chimes in behind her. “Do stay! The knives and blood magic are a spectacular edition to this welcome wagon.”

It was now that he said hello to her. Not explicitly, or out loud, but with a look. His smirk tells of the time they’ve shared together. Watching her dash off to fight the Mandalorian without so much as discussing it. The way she humbled him into pouring blood with just a glance. His smirk fades into a simple and self satisfied flash of happiness. I have missed you.

Vytal’s words call for him now. TO WHAT?! It was children they were shoving off through the portal. It was beings too worthless to even consider cannon fodder! He would not be lumped into the same boat as students and civilians. He would not flee conflict where it so lustfully sought him out. Vytal was smart. She meant well. Hevn’s skill set and expertise were unique in some regard to the Mandragora, but he was far from irreplaceable.

How many times had her approach with him nearly caused to the two to come to blows? Hevn was used to the demanding tone she took with those around her. He’d come to find it matriarchal if anything. A side effect of her culture. Hevn was perhaps the only one of her peers who reacted so adversely to her. Undoubtably due to his severe superiority complex.

That was exactly why although the two held the same rank, they were nearly polar opposites. Not only had Hevn reasoned the exact opposite reaction to the attack, he’d already followed through. They both knew what was within these walls. Why he’d come in the first place. There was no use in getting upset with her. Simply explaining himself would be chagrin enough to the Nightsister.

The bemused look on Hevn’s face fades as his scowl emerges stronger than ever. He turns toward Vytal. “Mistress Vytal, you’ll be disappointed to find I will refuse. I have woven my own lock around the reliquary for safe keeping until we get to the bottom of this. It cannot be opened without me. We are fighting our own. There is no place you can take the artifacts that will be safer than here. The Soul Stone and every treasure in Shadow’s Point belongs to me until this is over. Once you finish evacuating I might just show off what it can do.”

Hevn used force locks on everything he called his own. Only his specifically tuned vibrations could get them to open. A master of sorcery or the force could possibly crack it with a great deal of time and effort. They could blast what’s left of this hall to shambles and still not crack it. If Hevn were to die, so too would be their only way in.

Hevn is unapologetic in his response. Stating it as a matter of fact. He had not time to confer with anyone nor the means toward a solution. The attack had been more than sudden. He had chose to defend Shadow’s Point, not flee it. That was the choice he would stand by for better or worse.

Before he can finish, cries through the force enter his ears, and visions flood his sight. A rampaging behemoth charging through the castle grounds. Outside! It must have been the tiny one who left his side. Biting off more than she could chew. How the fool had bid him go on, abandoning her fellow Knights, and failing. It served her right to suffer. She had rallied to his cry for battle though. Battle had been expected. If she was outmatched, her only reinforcements were in this room. The fleet was sure to disintegrate them both for having ventured out while the shield was inevitably failing. There was the slightest chance she’d make it if someone tried to help.

Had they all heard it? All seen it? Or just him? He did not know the girl well. There was many presences he did not recognize lurking all over the grounds now. Friend or foe was impossible to determine. Even Scherezade and Tallara were under his suspicion. How was he supposed to find her? Was it worth leaving the fortifications of this great hall to seek her out?

“A small knight left my side on the way here. Her confidence sold her short it would seem. Shall we fetch her?” Hevn was opening the floor to takers and willing to go alone if necessary.

 

[Vytal Noctura]

OBJECTIVE: Defense, Evacuate, Whatever it Takes​

EQUIPMENT: Outfit, Amulet, Potion Belt, Scroll Case, Blaster Pistol, Rings, Dagger​

ALLIES: [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] | [member="Voph"] | [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Alwine Lechner"] | [member="Daxton Bane"] | [member="Zak Dymo"] | [member="Tallara"] | [member="Kiff Brayde"] | [member="Tsian Denira"]​

ENEMIES: [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="Lirka Ka"] | [member="Kelsie Sylvan"] | [member="McKenna Rory"] | [member="Madalena Antares"]​

​

Vytal was pleased as the number that fled into the realm beyond measure trickled to a conclusion. People were more important than structures. Perhaps Dathomiri women knew this best as theirs were not grand or overly storied. One defended one's Clan, but the Clan was made of its people and not its possessions. A Clan could rebuild. A Clan could retaliate. So too would the Mandragora if this was to be the Confederacy's turn against them. There was time to determine the truth of matters once the battle was ended, once--

He what?

The Nightsister strode forward until she stood next to Hevn, her eyes burning like the stars. "We will discuss this at length when this is all over," she promised the man. The reliquary was more important than any one person. There were measures that should be taken to ensure its survival, and relocation to Raven's Point. A personal lock of someone at a very real risk of being killed as part of the assault was a last resort. Hevn knew how difficult it would be opening it without him. Yet she would not say he'd be wrong to do what he'd done -- he had not known if any would have come to his aid.

Damn that woman for not establishing procedures about this very scenario ahead of time. Ones that all Mandragora knew (granted, ones that Vytal had in mind). Ones with magical artifacts that allowed them to communicate and respond swiftly before the enemy laid siege to something as priceless as the Soul Stone. About where such artifacts were kept. The Soul Stone was here? In this place? Something so powerful... Vytal was not the Nightmother and so did not know everything that happened in the organization. However, she had been part of recovering this Stone and no one so much as told her where it was kept? That it would be offworld? Whatever for? Risk? By the Fanged God...

Truly, in His unmerciful embrace, Vytal bore witness to her Sister sweeping through and then bending the portal opened behind her to another location. Worse yet, it was to the bridge of one of the ships and the child -- not again -- seemed inclined to go with her.

So many disparate actions being taken with none more exemplified than when a familiar voice called through the Force for aid. At least the four others present in the Main Hall had assembled and stood ready to defend this place. They would be stronger together than apart.

Vytal raised a brow at [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"]'s question. "[member="Voph"] and you are needed here. The enemy is at the gate." The Nightsister turned to look at the blue woman, "Tallara," yes Vytal knew her name from Monastery, "I will open a portal and Mandragora will support you. Retrieve Alwine." That said a gap splicing two points in relatively close proximity to one another appeared to one side. That required far less effort than the evaluation had necessitated. Four Witches and Warlocks would support [member="Tallara"] or any that went; their talents might be needed to bind Lirka and slow or hold her movements in order to aid Alwine's escape.

"Scherezade," Vytal looked over at [member="Scherezade deWinter"], "I need your help with crowd control once the military advances. We can't have the men surrounded." The Nightsister was biting her tongue not to say anything about how the men would likely be too busy lobbing power and throwing themselves into battle to pay attention to the larger strategic picture. Well, Hevn at least. That man got himself into trouble willingly. He was a terrible example for young people in how to behave, but a good instructor for those in need of power and form.

One of the rings on Vytal's hand shone as she spoke. The Nightsister's voice boomed throughout the courtyard that led up to the Main Hall, "Unwelcome guests of Shadow's Point. For whatever reason you have come know this place is not yours to claim. Its people not those to conquer. Any that set foot into the Main Hall with their blade drawn will be given no quarter. Forestall your attack and have the commanders of the Confederacy themselves draw sword against us, if we are your enemy. Let the truth be known in that way."

The cap to the scroll case at her side was opened and a parchment of an old tongue was drawn forth, ready for what was to come. To those in the Main Hall with Vytal, she had only this to add, "As you are aware, some have chosen to attack the Mandragora this day. Those meant to be our allies. It is by sheer necessity to ensure they do not believe us ripe for conquest that we must now do what we do. If the enemy comes through that door they will be destroyed." She drew in a deep breath. "May the Fanged God welcome them to his embrace, and grant us strength."

 

[Lirka Ka]

Amusing little Sith rats, they never did learn did they? There is no place for cultists in this Galaxy, she would gladly burn every church, every temple, every bastion of the light, dark, and beyond. But the fires that raged here would suffice for now. Of course, such fires utterly nonexistent to all but the deranged "Sephi" herself. A laugh, mocking, horrendously vile and deep pierced from her helmeted face. She truly was amused by the feeble attempts of [member="Alwine Lechner"]

"Don't you understand, little sithling? You are alone. You are little more than cattle, forgotten and abandoned. Lay down and surrender, I will make your death quick. Maybe they'll actually remember you when I take your skull as a trophy."

From mere moments before screaming at the top of her lungs, Lirka was calm now. Bursting from the attempts at bondage, she moved forward with a calculated menace: one could never kill her knack for the dramatic, even as the shot fire and tore into her flesh, she could only laugh: the freakish nature of her existence showed, torn flesh re-knit itself before her very eyes, a monster of genescience. The broken beast.