Annihilation End of an Era: AC Annihilation of Korriban

[Pietro Demici]

Pietro Demici, Cardinal of Ashla & Commander of the Holy Guard

Location:  Korriban (in orbit)

Loadout: lightsaber, armorweave priest's vestments

Allies:  Isla Draellix-Kobitana , Fiolette Fortan, Aerarii Tithe , Caarlyle Rausgeber, Zark San Tekka , Albrecht F. Herlock , Tristan Evore, Relynia Sorrene, Constantine Oliva, Dracken Pryce, AC, NIO, GA, SJC

Enemies: Tu'teggacha , Darth Carnifex , Marlon Sularen , KV-6000, Derix Tirall , Aldo Garrick , BotM, Sith

Fleet Composition: The Light of Ruusan, 4x Dominion-class escort frigate, 2x Bastion planetary invasion ship

Part One: The Turning Tide

Another Maw ship blew apart as the Light of Ruusan pushed its course, and from his command chair, Pietro smiled. The battle had seemed to be going as planned, and soon the Maw would see their super star destroyer completely destroyed. Such a decisive victory would likely garner greater support for the Crusade across the galaxy. To defeat the Maw so soundly would truly cement the new Ashlan movement as a major power.

"Your imminence, the last of the fleeing ships have been eliminated."

"Excellent, commander. We shall focus our remaining efforts on the Fatalis. Have all-"

"Sir! It appears that the Maw superweapon is charged and ready to fire!"

His eyes shot a look to the comms station.

"Is the planet the target?"

"No, your imminence. It appears that they intend to fire it at the allied fleet. Sir... we need to get you off of the ship. We may not have enough time to jump to hyperspace."

Pietro couldn't believe it. How could he have been so blind? His grip tightened on the arm of his command chair, his face growing grim.

"I will not abandon the fleet. By Ashla, we must find a way!"

The Holy Guard stepped forward, motioning to the door as they tried to get him from the seat. The commander turned toward them as they tried to move the cardinal.

"Your imminence, please. You are too important to the Crusade to die now. Get yourself to an escape pod, and get out of here. We will do what we can to get the ship out of the kill zone."

Several moments passed, and Pietro didn't utter a word. His mind swam with confusion and frustration, mostly directed at himself. In his moment of hubris, Pietro had doomed these men to die. Finally, the cardinal stood from his chair, starting for the door. As he exited the room, he looked over his shoulder.

"It has been a pleasure to serve with you all. May Ashla welcome you with open arms."

He rushed to the escape pods, along with the Holy Guard that had been tasked with protecting him. They entered the pods, and immediately launched. As the pods jettisoned into the great vacuum of space, Pietro offered a prayer for those aboard the Ashlan ships...

And then came the impact.

Part Two: Savages

Location: Somewhere near the temple

Tags: Cedric Grayson Darth Solipsis Romi Jade Bernard Dagon Kaze Starlin Rand Mikhail Grayson Ishida Ashina

Savages

Pietro felt a severe ringing in his ears as he came to within the escape pod. His vision was blurred, and his mind fuzzy. Once his mind was clear enough to assess the situation, Pietro realized that they weren't moving. One of the Holy Guard was pulling him from the escape pod, now a burning mass of acrap metal. The others had created a small perimeter as they cleared the cardinal from the potentially dangerous wreckage. Pietro took a moment to gather his thoughts before looking to the stars. As his eyes met the sky above, he was left speechless...

Remnants of the light from the Avatar of War could be seen, and the sky was littered with fire. There was no way of telling the level of damage, but Pietro feared the worst.

"Casualties?"

One of the Holy Guard shook his head.

"Unclear. We haven't been able to establish communication since we landed. We'll keep attempting to get through, though we aren't sure that we'll get an answer. We may have to assume the worst."

Pietro's mind was in chaos. How could the barbaric hordes of the Maw have managed such a feat? Was he really that distracted by potential victory?

No... it was THEY who fired the weapon. It was THEY who killed countless innocent people. No... no more. He would not stand for it.

The cardinal's eyes narrowed as he looked across the barren plains of Korriban. So much life lost, all for this giant rock of darkness. Pietro could feel the stench of the Bogan in the very air, creeping up from the deepest parts of the planet itself. He realized that there could only be one solution...

The planet must be cleansed, at any cost.

"My brothers, we have a new course of action. I will be devoting all of my energy to one decisive strike against the Bogan. We will remain here until the deed is done."

"What would you have us do, your imminence?"

He turned toward the Holy Guard as he spoke.

"Pray."

His hands lifted up toward the burning skies above as he called out to Ashla. The light filled him once again, piercing through the darkness of Korriban. Golden light began to pour from his eyes as he continued to call upon every scrap of light that he could. From his body, a wave of Force Light began to spring to life, forcing its way outward and across the planet. Alone, it wouldn't be enough, but the cardinal knew that others would sense this, and join him in the ritual. The glowing light continued to push its way outward as the cardinal let the Force flow through him like electricity through water.

By Ashla's light, the planet would be cleansed...

 

[Dagon Kaze]

ASHLAN CRUSADE
BORN ON A MONDAY vol. I
Issue #7 - Bad Romance w/ Anja Doreva

A file of troopers scurried in from the last remaining entry, donned in fearsome armors and helms forged in a nightmare. Dagon halted, tensed up and so did they. There was no chance he could take them on and Danika at the same time. Had she finally sprung the trap? Was her honesty merely a masterstroke of an act? Exhausted to the point he'd nearly collapse, Dagon barely had any juice to figure out survival scenarios. And he didn't need to. Dani ordered the warriors to stand down. An inaudible exhale of tension left his lips. So tired from both the fight and the apocalypse draining his powers, he didn't do much to question the destination of the portal she had conjured.

He dragged himself to the portal and stopped right before going in. Tired, yet determined eyes scanned her from head to toe For the first time since they had met, they stood so close to each other without blades crossing their ways. Dark chocolate locks of hair weaved down her face. She was, maybe a few years his senior, but her sharp features seemed to be preserved against the tides of time. Across the sinister veil that enveloped her and the soul-seeing blue-green eyes which stood in sharp contrast to her porcelain skin, Dagon found her rather beautiful even with the cape of death she carried.

"Thanks," he whispered with a smirk. There was more than gratitude in his tone, there was a reassuring belief that beneath the darkness a small light flickered still flickered.

His mind was blank and his instincts were barely functioning. All he could think of was finally getting a well-deserved break as he passed through the rift in the space and time continuum.

She might've sent him to hell for all he knew.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Leader of the Dawn of Hope
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Side: Attacker
Objective: Save Sith artefacts; try to save Adrian
Location: Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban
Equipment: 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Brynja coat and hat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Darth Petrichor

[ Last Days… ] ​

As they were here, Ingrid set out to absorb energies from the Nexus, as that was her main goal of trying to find a method to “glue together” a torn soul. She still has not found a way to do this. The ideas she developed during the captivity were not feasible. Yet the red-haired woman tried very hard. She heard her partner's words, but now a special feeling overwhelmed her. It was weird, suddenly everything and everyone looked so tiny:

They were just maggots swarming to the corpse of a dying god…

She hadn’t seen Voracitos many times on the battlefield or in war, but if she did, he always went to eat. She had a feeling it couldn't be any different now. Especially because Ingrid felt him in the same place where Adekos was; at least based on how she felt. The red-haired woman envisioned the Maw will arrange for no one to have the planet if it couldn’t be theirs. Representatives of the Light Side… well she saw enough horror from them to know that they would be ready to destroy the planet. Is this what the Nexus felt? Could this have caused the strange emptiness the woman was feeling now?

"You are too naive or dreamy. Maybe both. The NIO, or the GA, but probably neither of them will ever forgive once someone stood by the Sith. I experienced this on my own skin, even though I am not a Sith." she said in a strangely distant voice.

It was for this reason that she "feared" that they might be next even though they had stopped supporting the Sith, she nodded before answering:

"I prefer to consider myself a man of science and not generalize. And yes, someone who is not a Sith or a Jedi can see and understand these much better and easier." she said her own opinion.

What has changed? Other than that Adrian wasn't here? She looked around, nothing had changed, no one had been here since the clues. One thing changed, and that was the Force.

"Physically nothing; as I see it, no one has been here in recent years. But the Force is weird, so weirdly empty, chaotic. I can't put it any better, but maybe you feel it as well, Lord Petrichor."

 

[Albrecht F. Herlock]

Objective III : It comes...
Location: Korriban's atmosphere and orbit
Equipment: uniform, custom-made blaster pistol, ceremonial sword, telescope

Allies: Ashlan Crusade | NIO | Galactic Alliance | SJC/CIS/EE
Ennemies : Brotherhood of the Maw | Sith

Anaxes Navy Task Force 58 composition:​

Name​	Class​	Status​	Commanding Officer​
X101 Pride of Anaxes (flagship)​	X100-class escort frigate​	Fully crewed, operationnal​	Captain Albrecht Herlock​
X102 Audacious​	X100-class escort frigate​	Fully crewed, operationnal​	Lieutenant Commander Julius E. Mannerheim​
X103 Courageous​	X100-class escort frigate​	Fully crewed, operationnal​	Lieutenant Commander James Halsey​
CV-2 Tonnant​	Tonnant-class fleet carrier​	Fully crewed, operationnal​	Commander Erika Richthofen​
Silencieux​	Stealth Corvette Silencieux​	Fully crewed, operationnal​	Lieutenant Lucas Traumen​

Legend: comm in, comm out, ship's intercom and broadcast system, crew

On board of the Pride of Anaxes
Commanding Officer: Captain Albrecht Herlock

"Sir, the Silencieux has retreated !"

"Just as planned. Contact the Audacious and tell them to stay with the Tonnant. The Courageous will break formation and follow us. We'll return to the orbit and sink the ennemy !"

"Aye Sir !"

As the orders were given, the Pride of Anaxes and the Courageous ignited their engines and took speed to finally get from the atmosphere to the orbit of Korriban. The Silencieux had done her job by distracting the ennemy and now, the two escort frigates would come and fire with all they had to sink Tu'teggacha 's fleet.

"Our main target is the Fatalis. All guns to port. Open fire when ready !"

The escort frigates' guns turned to port side, perfectly synchronized and suddenly opened fire towards the Fatalis. Meanwhile, the Tonnant and the Auadacious, still in the atmosphere, were bombing ennemy positions on the planet's surface. At the same time Herlock got a message on his screen. The Silencieux had return to battle in stealth mode and started firing all of her torpedoes and her two main guns still behind the Maw's fleet.

 

[Bernard]

Go wash the hand that still betrays thy guilt;
Before the spirit’s gaze what stain can hide?
Abel’s red blood upon the earth is spilt,
And by thy tongue it cannot be denied;
----
Inside the Academy
Library​

Allies: GA, AC, NIO, Ishida Ashina
Enemies: BOTM, TSE, Sith​

Butterflies and Hurricanes​

A thin line separated the righteous fury of vengeance from the resolute conviction of justice. Focus. Vengeance was a fire that burned everything in its path. Uncaring and reckless, it did not distinguish between good and evil. All it craved was its own satisfaction. Justice, in contrast, was focused, precise. Like the tip of a spear it sought the heart of evil, and only evil, for that was the purpose of its existence.

"What?" Ishida snapped, her anger was plain to see. “Because she’s afraid of you?”

Bernard tilted his head, expressing a disbelieving what through narrowed eyes with the slightest shake of his head. She was working herself up into a storm, her words blazed with nearly the same fervour she reserved for those on the other end of her bladed dance.

“Cowering and compliance now does not make her any less a Sith than the ones she was with. The ones that you cut down."

His mouth opened slightly. She was wrong. A world's difference separated the acolyte from her lifeless companions. It had become apparent the moment she'd stumbled to the floor and lost her weapon, the moment she'd surrendered and become a defenceless prisoner. Was Ishida too consumed to see that?

"The only difference between her and them,"

The flame in his own heart swelled, threatening to spill everything it had taken in. He took a breath in preparation for her next words, steeling himself to reign in emotion.

"Is she still has a pulse.”

He'd known her to be zealous, that she followed Sardun's words to the letter. But the intensity she brought to bear against her foes, the scorching fury and unshakable determination, was now directed at him, and she laid bare the depths of her hatred. The acolyte was a child. Cowering in fear as two harbingers of death that she'd probably never encountered before today argued about her life like it was a commodity. She was stunned into inaction by her fear, but she was also human. How could Ishida not see that?

The breath burst from him in a sharp exhale, but before he could utter a word an icy wave shot through his veins, bristling the hairs along his arms in trepidation.

Ishida traded her blood-soaked blade for another in the span of a heartbeat. The weapon shimmered in the dim orange light of the library, gold steel tinted the reflection of their battle's aftermath. The library looked like it burned in the blade. Bernard's eyes widened.

“I’ll show you.”

"Wait, don't...!" He surged forward, reaching out to stop her, but the blade found its mark long before he'd come close enough to affect the outcome.

Fright made the tension in his body come undone, and he exhaled his strength. He hadn't stood a chance to stop her. Now the acolyte's life rested on his shoulders also. A new sensation wound its way through his muscles, tightening his chest and straining his breath. He stared at Ishida, frozen by the fury in her eyes. That grey had turned to steel, which pierced him as though she'd turned her blade on him.

In a moment of stunned silence, her hand shot out to take his and placed it on the hilt of her sword, taking him by surprise. Uncertain of what was happening, he braced himself, finally letting his eyes fall to the acolyte. She still breathed. All colour had drained from her face, but she remained unharmed. Ishida had stopped the blade the instant it would have taken the acolyte's life. The disquiet that had taken hold of him faded as quickly as it had come to make way for bewilderment.

What was happening?

He caught Ishida's eyes again. Her hand wound around his, thwarting any attempt to pull away or let the hilt go. She tightened her grip to make sure. Whatever she was doing, she wanted him to be a part of it. But there was something subtle about her hand. He glanced down to discover what it was. A tremble ran through her arm. Was her anger tearing her apart to the extent that she could barely contain it?

He furrowed his brows, uncertain what to make of it, when something started pulling at the edges of his sight. The library began to fade, in its stead came a void that slowly sunk its teeth further and further into his field of vision. Before everything faded, his focus shifted back to Ishida, whose eyes had been searching for his.

In that moment something clicked into place. The confusion, that disconnect he'd felt towards her, which had roused a whirlwind of emotion between them, suddenly faded away like dust blown away by the wind, and he could see clearly, there in those stormclouds, what had been driving her.

She was afraid.

“Don’t let go.”

The lightsabre fell from his hand, and he reached out towards her and he wanted to reassure her that he wouldn't, but darkness claimed the world.

---

All Rivers At Once​

A heart thumped loudly in her ears. At the edge of her perception, she heard voices. Loud, angry voices. Was someone angry at her? She was confused. Where was she?

She peered around, searching for clues. The street was bright, sandstone walls shone with blinding intensity. The sky was blue and cloudless. All around her was a crowd of people. They stared at her and argued. She recognized now that some cheered, while others roared. Many pointed at her. No, not towards her, to her feet. She furrowed her brows and looked at her feet.

A man had fallen asleep in front of her, his neck twisted at an awkward angle.

"Ma, why is that man sleeping?" She peered up at her mother.

"Because he was a very bad man, and you made the bad man go away," came the absent-minded voice of her mother. She'd turned away to speak with someone else.

"Kenth, she's our ticket out of here!" Her mother yelled full of glee.

As the voices began to overlap, darkness encroached.

---

Academy life was difficult, but it was manageable. After five years, the grueling training regimes and long hours in the library studying ancient texts had become routine. The daily cruelties and injustices of acolytes from other classes and the overseers became compartmentalized as another facet of their education. This effort to impart knowledge on her and her classmates prized, above all other qualities, strength, and competition. Any class that fell behind or came in last during a cycle was punished by the administration. So far, she and her nine comrades had avoided this fate. They weren't the best, but they weren't the worst either.

Today, she'd embarked on her first excursion into the tombs of the ancient Sith Lords. The overseers had been training them for this moment for the past three cycles, and oftentimes the prospect of finally seeing the seats of power the great heroes she'd read about became the only solace of a day. Now, she'd finally get to see them.

They'd been split off into pairs, to make the journey through the caves leading to the tombs easier. She'd been paired with her rival, a boy with whom she'd been contesting the place at the top of their class, though recently she'd been consistently coming out on top during their quarrels, both in knowledge and with the blade.

Despite that rivalry, they had resolved to set aside their differences and work together. They'd both read the passages which detailed the immense dangers of the caves and tombs of Sith Lords, and neither was arrogant enough to believe themselves invincible. Not when fully-fledged Sith, possessing many times their power and skill, died in droves for their hubris.

To their surprise, the journey through the cave system went off without a hitch. They'd run into trouble here and there. Had to avoid the occasional Sithspawn, kill a tuk'ata or two, and avoid various traps, but they'd been quick on their feet and with their wits.

When they finally arrived at the relic chamber, a great hall with a central platform and several pillars around it which held levers that had to be pulled in the correct order, their tasks were clear. The overseer had made sure to explain the procedure they were to follow in great detail. The boy was to sit on the raised platform and channel his power into the stone door barring their entrance while she pulled the lever in a specific sequence.

With each pull of the lever, somewhere in the room stone scraped against stone. He was meditating in the centre, deep in concentration, while she pulled the levers. Everything was going the way the overseer had instructed.

Finally, at the last pillar, she glanced to her companion.

"Last one! We'll have that mask in no time!" She yelled to him, excitement clear in her voice.

"Just pull the lever!" His voice was strained with exhaustion. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this going!"

"Right, right," she muttered, scrambling to complete their ritual.

It took the last of her strength, the lever seemed to actively resist her efforts, but after some strain it relented and locked in a downward position. Overcome with eagerness, she looked beyond the pillar, to her companion, but he was no longer there. Instead, she heard a surprised yelp and then a scream.

The central platform had opened up and swallowed him. She rushed to the platform, but it began to close again. Four triangles pushed themselves together, and, when she arrived, there was little more than a thin crack still open.

As she stared down into the darkness, she caught the red eye of her companion. He was falling into an abyss, flailing in a panic. But when their eyes met, he found a new target for the whirlwind of emotion he experienced in his last moments.

"You weasling schutta! You did this on purpose! I'll kill you! You hear me? I'll kill you!" His voice faded as the stone locked closed, and he descended further into the abyss in complete darkness.

His words seared themselves into her memory. Guilt tore her up. Her head spun, her hands trembled, and a nauseating pain thrummed in her head. She took a step towards the platform, but it was shut closed already.

She'd done exactly as the overseer had asked! She'd spent days memorizing the sequence, she knew it like the back of her hand. There was no way she had made a mistake, but still, the trap had activated!

The muffled screaming died down, and in its place stone began to rumble where the entrance was. The doors slowly unsealed, revealing a darkness beyond. She'd entered the sequence correctly.

Why would the overseer set them up like this? He had been her comrade, and now he would die thinking she had betrayed him. Had she betrayed him? How would she explain to the overseer why she was coming back alone?

She felt her stomach contract. Turning from the pillar, her last meal found the floor in one painful retch.

Then, that abyss swallowed all light again.

---

The New Imperial Rebellion had become a major crisis in the Empire. Pushing from the galactic west, the traitors had taken Bastion and were now carving a path directly towards Dromund Kaas, destroying system after system in their path. From the south, the Galactic Alliance had launched several surprise assaults against the Sith, targeting first Korriban, then Ziost. She'd been away, on a mission, when they came for Korriban out of the blue. Upon her return, she'd found the Academy half-destroyed, burned, and defiled by her Order's most ancient enemies. The library, a place of refuge where she could get lost in ancient tomes and holo-books, had been completely destroyed by a fire. If for nothing else, she hated the Jedi for what they'd done to the Academy.

She didn't much care for the other acolytes, much less for the overseers and sith who lorded over them. After seven years at the academy, all love she'd held for the adventures of Sith life had been eroded and turned to dust. She hadn't grown apathetic, or hateful, she didn't want them to burn and suffer as the Jedi did, but aspirations to bring about some change, once she herself was a Sith Lord, had taken root in her mind.

With how much the Empire struggled against the combined might of the Alliance and the New Imperial Order, they weren't simply going down without a fight. A recent battle at Ziost had resulted in a victory for the Empire, after a long, drawn-out battle for its capital city. The Alliance had attempted to evacuate the planet, but some of their troops never made it to their transports, so they ended up in the clutches of Sith, as prisoners, forced labourers, or laboratory rats for the Sith.

Several of them, she'd heard, had been taken to the Academy here on Korriban. Though she harboured resentment towards them, the chance to see an Alliance soldier face to face for the first time was an enticing prospect. Their culture, their very way of being, was diametrically opposed to everything she knew. She hoped that, perhaps, in speaking with one of the soldiers she might find a clue that might bring her closer to her quest to change the life of the Sith around her.

Down in the catacombs, long after night hours had rolled in, she'd stolen her way into the dungeons, where, after some searching, she'd found the cell of one of the Alliance soldiers. She studied him through the glass pane of his cell door. He was an Iridonian, with short horns, and skin a light shade of wood. He seemed injured, but he held himself with dignity. From a distance, he seemed like the soldiers she was familiar with but different. Something in his eyes had a quality that was unfamiliar to her, something she might have known only from before her time in the Academy. They lacked the cruelty of a Sith's.

When she entered the chamber, an insult struck her like a hand across the face. She'd expected the soldier to distrust her, but he met her with such vitriol. He blamed her for the death of his comrades, even though he was the first living warrior she'd seen who didn't wear the Legionnaire red. They were sworn enemies, and yet they, as people, had only met moments prior. He swore death down on her and all she knew, vengeance for a defeat at Ziost. Working himself into a fear-driven frenzy, he strained the shackles binding him to the wall in an attempt to pull himself free. Seared hatred into her with his wild, brown eyes.

Something snapped in her. Those eyes seemed familiar all of a sudden as if she'd known them for years but could only now put an image to her memories. This wasn't a prisoner staring back at her, it was her enemy. The savage agent of hostile governments. Finally, she could grasp the hate the overseer drilled into his acolytes week after week. She reached out through the Force and wrapped it around the soldier's throat. Those eyes, they had to close, go away.

A choke escaped the soldier's throat. It took him a moment to realize what was happening, but once recognition settled, his fury increased tenfold. He fought and struggled, not to open the shackles, but to pull them from the wall, so he could kill the Sith who'd take his life before she could. Baser instincts took over, his system chose to respond by fighting, and that sentience he'd had in his eyes, shadowed by contempt, faded fully. A roar escaped him with the last of his breath.

She ducked away, the foundation of her resolve eroding, but she didn't let up. She was too afraid of what the soldier had become to let any other thought enter her mind.

The soldier's gasps grew quieter, the scorn in his eyes weakening. The very spirit of his life was draining out of his face. Rasping breaths fought for final breaths.

Fear shot up her spine. Finally, she recoiled, suddenly overcome by the reality of her actions. She stared down at her hands in disbelief, then back to the Alliance soldier, the human.

He had collapsed, clutching his throat. Desperately gasping for air, he gulped down lung-fulls with an intensity she'd never seen before. He began to regain his senses slowly, and his eyes fell on hers. Anger and fear stared back at her in equal measures.

She suddenly felt a sense that he wasn't looking at another person before him, but something beneath that. It struck her as a cruel irony. She turned back to the hallway and ran. Everything blurred around her, and her hitched breath accompanied panicked steps until sobs overtook her, bringing her to the floor.

Slowly, the world faded into darkness again. Her anguish still echoed as it did.

 

[Damsy Callat]

SCORES TO SETTLE // MAWITE DIG
“ROBES” + DREAD BLADE
~ interacting w. Lonnie Kai ~​

Scampering light-footed along some of the more delicate terracettes folded into the landslide lobe, Damsy was able to bypass the Troopers and Sith who, having found their footing again, now made their way up either side of the grade. Slightly beneath one of the rises herself, she stayed out of sight. Earshot too, as she drew on her experience as a commando behind enemy lines to know where to and not to step.

As she approached the downed starship, she paused; glancing up to the ledge, down to level ground, and up again. The Petrite forces, or the portion that had been sent marching on the Maw, were beginning to thin, indicating the near end of their ranks. Damsy reached upwards, grasped the energetic thread keeping the hillside coalesced, and yanked. A few meters of sandstone crumbled away at once, tumbling down the hill in similar, but smaller, manner to how the landscape had failed perpendicular to this cascade minutes ago.

Taste of their own meds, Damsy thought, and wondered how exactly it did.

Only a few Troopers and a single Sith were caught up in the failure, and sent crumpling onto the sand seas below.

Damsy jumped down to join them.

Her feet didn’t hit bedrock, but a familiar blue-white light flashed before her eyes. She momentarily took flight, then her body stopped shaking with the electricity coursing all through it as she landed harshly a short distance from where she had meant to stand. Another light overtook her vision, altogether warmer; when she was finally able the squint open an eye, she realized even rays of sundown were quite a bit brighter out from behind the wooden shaman mask.

Until a physical shadow parted it, one belonging to the fallen Sith.

Damsy propped herself up on her elbows, blinking the sunspots out of her eyes. All that happened was yellow splotched becoming red as an actual lightsaber blade neared her neck. Great, Syreni had made her pick a fight to get ‘em both killed.

“Grotthu?”

Suddenly, the sand blindness meant nothing, no temporary disadvantage. She recognized that voice as the one of a Lord whose name she had refused to learn though Arisso and the others had reminded her of it many times over.

The Darkness crawling through her veins was parasitic. As more and more overtook every inch, the internal pressure became unbearable. Damsy blinked back tears, feeling the intense urge to cry. Pain and anger and power swirled alongside the life-giving character of blood, globular and gross like the unnatural union of water and oil.

There wasn’t room for both volumes. One had to go.

Damsy began losing a quantity of breath, as well as clarity around her head. She felt her heart beating harder than it ever had, like it might break through her cartilage ribcage.

Anemia.

The Dark was winning.

“We don’t much care for that word.” So said Damsy or Syreni? Unclear.

“What—?”

A chorus of gurgles and crackles broke the stagnant desert air.

Damsy managed to stand, borrowed jewelry settling nosily around her body, just as the Lord fell.

He struggled to stay on his knees, bracing against the ground with one hand and holding the other at his throat. He looked up at his former slave with wide, corrupted eyes, and was met with her own—no longer deep blue, but angry orange, like the intense flames lapping up from an oil spill fire. He hadn’t known she was Sensitive. Arisso hadn’t said a thing and she herself had done well to dampen her Force presence, having learned to do it well herself since losing her masking amulet on Dantooine and not wanting to humble herself enough to ask Dagon Kaze for another.

But now?

There was no doubt in the reflection of the Lord’s eyes.

He smiled for it before he finally submitted to death.

For he might get another chance to best her if he rose again as one of the undead.

Damsy glanced up from her handler’s body, intending to move on to the Troopers, but they had all fallen as well. She looked instead to her hands. The beds under her nails were paling. She turned over her hands, and so were her palms.

Maybe…

Maybe it wasn’t too late to bleed out the Dark.

But would tar even bleed?

Damsssssy…

Syreni’s call rose Damsy’s eyes once more, just as her Force Pull brought the shaman’s mask into her hands. The face was somewhat cracked but would still hide her identity from the Mawites well enough.

“What?” Damsy asked her alter as she again obscured her face, completing her façade.

Assssshlans…

Where?!

As Damsy turned around, she must have turned out of some portal she wasn’t even aware had opened. She was somewhere on the Brotherhood’s Jedi front. A ways on, she spotted one of the Crusade’s many zealots, or at least she assumed she was.

This was her change to settle a second score protected by anonymity.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

ETERNAL RULE
KORRIBAN ORBIT
STYGIAN CALDERA
Kirie Thalia Senn Sergeant Omen
Darth Carnifex KV-6000

​

"The more you tighten your grip Carnifex, the more star systems slip through your fingers."

General San Tekka's lightsaber hummed softly in the dark accompanied by a squad of marines' echoing footfalls. He could feel the darkside at work clouding his senses but when Zambrano unleashed an unnatural light of alchemic design the battlemeld he shared with his loyal soldiers was violently disrupted. Without their psychic link he could not save them from their grisly fate. For the other Jedi on board it was as if Zark's voice cried out then was suddenly silenced.

Despite their disorientation, as soon as the shadows revealed themselves his remaining troopers defended themselves with courage in the face of pure evil yet their weapons could not harm insubstantial foes. Ghostly claws rent at the Jedi Master's armor threatening to disrupt his focus until he answered with a conjured wave of his own light. Shadow terrors were rent apart as their connection to the darkside was severed.

"All is as the Force wills it," he intoned bowing his head to quietly mourn the fallen.

At last the rogue emperor revealed himself. Master San Tekka still held a glowing energy blade at one side but he waited for the Sith Lord to activate his own crimson greatclub before raising the crossguard hilt into a low guard. Below them Korriban burned just like it had the day he was rescued by Jedi crusaders. They could both feel the Force writhe with dark energies from the tomb world which only further empowered Carnifex's black soul.

"Your delusions of grandeur are a blight upon this galaxy, yet still I would offer you mercy. Despite our many differences we both believe in the Force and destiny. Surrender to me or strike me down. Jedi banners fly over Sith fortress worlds once more. Cloak yourself in shadow if it makes you feel safe. For every eclipse there is an equinox. You cannot kill hope."

 

[Siyarr Ahan-Mitharran]

6TH POST
CLEAVER
KORRIBAN
OBJECTIVE 2: BLOODSOAKED VALLEY

Galidraani Forces: Enedina Tal Hiran Avola DECEASED Aron Gowrie Fiolette Fortan

Allies (NIO): Rurik Fel Aemilio Valaar

Allies (AC/GA/EE/SJC/PO): Lonnie Kai Dagon Kaze Damsy Callat
Ingrid L'lerim Starlin Rand Aelina Corsanis
Darth Petrichor Creuat Mikhail Grayson Sergeant Omen

Enemies (Sith Remnants): Vector Monk Laertia Io Anja Doreva Darth Orcus
Chasianna Ana Malixar Caulder Dune
Dis Darth Voracitos Crane Baxa

Enemies (BOTM/NSO): The Mongrel Alars Keto Tegan Starfall

TANGO DOWN: GALIDRAANI SPECIAL-FORCES ON KORRIBAN IX - THE UPHILL SURGE

​

Mongrel Hill's south face had come alive with bright, violent colours in the minutes following the Red Jackals boarding of the Wildcats' tanks, and their top-fitted LMGs in particular, as the Wildcats knew that the forces who awaited them would be no slouches in the CQC department, and knew that the Cirihut warriors were hard enough to fight as they had been previously for others. Intel always came through for the forces in the Free-State, and their eyes on the ground in the Maw's previous fights with other powers knew these madmen would be deployed against them at some point, but what the Tuaths had to their advantage was their ages-old,"Bookies Odds", method from the bareknuckle boxing subculture's ways, giving credence to the very likely odds that the Cirihut warriors would be spoiling for a fight against the men of Galidraan III. It had been a loud, explosive op from the beginning, and every Galidraani, Woad, Carrack and Tuath involved knew this all too well, leading Scott and Doyle's likes to ponder on what it might have been like if they had bothered to use the MLVs and Predator Launchpads they brought with them as well.

'How's the view up there now, Doyle?'

Leaning back from his perch to be seen and heard properly below, Cleaver laughed before reply,'Well, ah'd hate t'be the contingent ordered ti stand wae the Death Gangs the-day, let's put it that way. No even the Cirihuts would make any headway through that, sir.', taking his helmet off light a cigarette in the lulling activity from the back, safe in the knowledge that all the tracers, rockets and blaster trails were more than preoccupied with other Wildcats and Red Jackals elsewhere. Doyle would drop his pack down in offering one to the poorly-disguised Tuath nobleman below, one such cigarette which would be accepted kindly with the pack passed back up the hatch to the new Woad-born acquaintance, and when the pair lit up and started smoking, the others within the Cataphract would follow suit and listen on as the wind and the sand beat against the armoured-hill with force unlike any sandstorm they'd ever heard tell of.

'I wouldn't speak so soon, Doyle. We've heard tell of these Cirihut Warriors, and I'm sure you've heard a thing or two about them as well.... We're still at our stations in here for a reason, as there are cases of some slipping past enemy lines to wreak some of the most unconventional breeds of havoc we've studied so far, and those Death Gangs aren't any slouches either. If it wasn't for both, we'd be aiming our smoothbores at the Mongrel by now, I can guarantee you that.'
But surely that's just down to covering our lot from uphill before the charge, can't see it being anything else this time around.

'Fair enough, sir. I'll trust your good judgement on this one.', Cleaver replied, pinging his cigarette away and putting on the helmet with the Unit-44 jackal insignia before settling into his LMG-perch again. Slowly sweeping from left to right, slowly sweeping back again, Doyle's focus would be attained again with ease, but he was quite curious as to what sort of unconventional foes they were facing off against uphill, and even more curious as to how they could pose a threat so far back behind the engaged lines; however, no such apprehension or fear would be felt in this curiosity, especially not when he caught his own right hand caressing the grip of his machete, a telling sign of his tactically-supressed bloodlust that he would keep well-hidden from his mechanized comrades until the last moment. Pulling the base of his helmet forward to be heard somewhat easier, though clueless of the impending interruption, the Jackal inquired,'Tell me a little more about these Cirihut Warriors-', before all hell broke loose around them.

'AAAAAAMBUUUUUUUUUUUSH!!!!!'

TANGO DOWN: GALIDRAANI SPECIAL FORCES ON KORRIBAN X - THE MEDICS PART TWO

Unit_44_Medical_Archive
CALLSIGN/ID:SCALPEL_ONE
Korriban_Entry003

Let me just start this entry by saying this redoubt is beyond karkin' cursed, and I want it known now that this was never meant to be part of the job. Never once was this considered beforehand by Lady Enedina Tal, Headhunter or Cleaver, so not one shred of training was scheduled for fighting evil spirits ON A FETHING TOMB-WORLD DEPLOYMENT!!!

My apologies, gimme a moment to calm myself down a bit.

[sighs]

Anyway, now the dreaded preamble is out the way, I can finally start to make sense of this - whatever the feth it is that I've gotten myself into this time. So, once Monaghan & I were done making our acquaintances with the Wildcats' medics, we made our way back into the redoubt and away from the sandstorm itself, setting almost immediately to clearing out space for any potential emergency-surgeries we may have to endeavour along the way. We managed to set up a surgical table, lights and all the fittings in the room next door to the one we've allocated for triage and the likes. Lucky for us, as anything farther away might've become an organisational nightmare otherwise, and also much easier for the fact we didn't have to go much farther out of our own way to add to the debris-heap outside.

Looks not too shabby for something that's about to get quite bloody, according to reports from the Tuaths in their,"Amberlamps", we've got two patients inbound as we speak. One is the driver oddly enough, and another is apparently a crewman from Cataphract Four. The wounded medic, mild shrapnel embedding and lacerations, the crewman, two relatively-benign knife wounds from a boarding Death-Gang warrior. So, as you can tell, apart from the preface, everything else about our time on Korriban appears very much a matter of routine at the moment. Lucky for me though, as Monaghan appears to find this encounter with the ghost quite intriguing, and feels no fear for a spirit he feels is incapable of inflicting harm on us; me, not so sure about that, but at least Scalpel Two's doing as he's told on the matter, pretty sure he'd give me a rage-induced aneurism otherwise.

It appears to be the spirit of a little girl, black hair and has the most insidious giggle I have ever heard in my years, and being a commoner - you know I've seen and heard my fair share of young villains in the making. And despite all that, not one of them could hold a candle to this fiend we're dealing with here; but unlike our dear Consult-Sergeant Monaghan, I've seen 'er fething smile, if you can call it that. Looks more like a karkin' snarl than anything, I kid you not, and what doesn't help is that she's actually speaking to us inside our 'eads when she shows up; speaking to us from down the hall, outside the door and the likes. Whatever happened to this girl, or whatever this girl happened to do to deserve death before 'er time, it can't be anything good.

[sighs]

She's here. Again.

The rotten little freak just keeps returning to that same spot, right there outside this door next to me, and it makes me think we're keeping her from the place she may well have died in. There's probably more info on that in later logs.

Who are you talking to, Mr. Trooper? Is your friend still in there?

Oh, dear oh dear.... Scalpel One signing off.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Darth Mori //: Darth Daiara //:
//: G L I T T E R & G O L D //:

​

Allyson frowned, seeing the redhead protect the Sith Lord. A part of her had hoped whatever good was in her - still lingered. It seemed Aradia was more lost than she had expected. Suddenly another flaming attack from the girl, and Allyson dove forward into a tumble to avoid it. She set herself up again as she stood, arrow and bow still drawn.

“You lied to me.” Allyson felt the pain with those words as they slipped through Aradia’s lips. Her face didn’t show the pain or frustration; she just grinned and snorted. “You know, if I had a credit for every time someone told me that - I’d be pretty rich.” It felt as if anyone thought of her; the word liar would follow. The word had become synonymous with her name, and it killed her. So many of her relationships were destroyed by that word; it even lost her Zaavik.

“You’re being stupid, kid. Why couldn’t you and Zaavik just run off? Do something crazy like elope, make a home and have a feth ton of kids? Why couldn’t you do that?” Anger rose in the back of her throat. “But no, you had to ruin the guy - I failed him too, I know that-'' Allyson looked towards the Sith Lord, who interjected, a small smile curled on the Corellian’s face as she nodded.

“Feeling left out, sweetheart?” Allyson’s eyes glanced quickly to Aradia, “Get out of here before I decide to kill you too, along with your Master.” Another lie to the girl, hopefully, it was enough.

The distraction that Aradia had caused was enough time for Mori to move, catching Allyson off guard. The arrows of light flew forward again, aiming towards the quickly moving Sith Lord. Each shot aimed towards the woman’s torso - hoping to cause enough damage for her to slow down. As Allyson drew new arrows, infusing them with the light, she sprinted and tumbled backward.

Mori was someone Allyson wanted no business being close to Mori - she saw the blade and wanted no part of it near her. Suddenly, the Sith decided to use the weapon like a spear, throwing it towards her. “Oh, kark.” The sword cut through the air quickly, and Allyson figured it was sith crafted, which would mean her arrows could detour it.

Taking aim, she drew an energy arrow of pure light and fired it towards the blade. Without seeing if it hit its mark, the Corellian tumbled to the side and fell back into the protection of the Force cloak.​

 

[Isla Draellix-Kobitana]

​

Location: Outer perimeter of Korriban system
Faction: Ashlan Crusade
Allies: Caarlyle Rausgeber Zark San Tekka Albrecht F. Herlock Tristan Evore Relynia Sorrene - AC/NIO
Enemies: Tu'teggacha Darth Carnifex - KV-6000 - Marlon Sularen Derix Tirall Aldo Garrick TSE/MAW

Spoiler

Fleet composition
Noble Crusader Class Battlecruisers
Pillar of Retribution (Flagship) - engaged with fatalis
Divine Purpose - engaged with fatalis
Bane of Darkness (reserve)

Dragoon Class Battle carriers
Fist of Demici - moving to engage eternal rule
Rapture - engaged with fatalis
Holy Choir (reserve)

Templar class star destroyers
6 in primary fleet, 3 in reserve fleet

Bastion class planetary invasion ship
3 in reserve fleet

Nebula-ii class star destroyers
4 in primary fleet, 2 in reserve fleet

Dominion Class escort frigate
16 in primary fleet, 8 in reserve fleet
Principality class corvettes
16 in primary fleet, 8 in reserve fleet
Warden anti-starfighter frigates
6 in primary fleet

Hangar equipped vessels have full complements of following starfighters (50/50 split)
Pegasus interceptors
Phoenix multi-role starfighters

Isla shielded her eyes as the bright flash as an enemy star destroyer exploded, that was good news at least, reports from the Rapture were mixed, the Ashlan marines had defended the reactors and had ground the engines to a stalemate, this would soon turn in the Ashlans favour simply through sheer numbers, but she was concerned about the atmospherics being lost. For now at least the vessel was still contributing to the barrage on the Fatalis.

She ordered her principalities and remaining Templar to push in toward the Fatalis and keep up the pressure, ordering the same of the Rapture and the three remaining Dominions. All enemy firepower seemed to have switched to the Pillar of Retribution Although the enemy fleet was damaged, it was still throwing out considerable firepower, thankfully the Pillar was not being subjected to quite the same bombardment that the Rapture had suffered earlier in the fight. However, Isla watched as her shields began to drain away with the persistent barrage, systems beginning to fail and damage reports beginning to mount up.

On the Divine Purpose the worst of the fighting seemed to be going in favour of the Ashlans, the victorious marines from the reactor defence were moving to counter attack the engines and retake the atmospheric systems. "Lieutenant," a bridge technician called over his officer, "it appears the carbon dioxide levels in the gunnery positions are beginning to increase, currently at 0.4% and rising, that's ten times what it should be" The lieutenant thought for a few moments, then flipped though some documents. "Ok, technician, that isn't a risk for now, but with the rates rising like this levels will become toxic in a while, better reset the system to be safe"

The technician flipped some switches and hit the reset, that was simple enough, the gun crews would not have even noticed the change. He returned to his other works. Suddenly, around a minute later red lights started flashing up on his screen, air toxicity warnings, buzzers started going off as well. What had he done? the reset system is child's play "Sir, something is happening, we are reading toxcity in a number of the weapon emplacements, analysing." it took around 30 seconds for the ventilation sensors to analyse what they were detecting, dioxsis... "Sir, we need to get them out of their now, the enemy must have poisoned the air systems"

The Lieutenant sounded the alarms and called for the captain, klaxons went off all through the affected areas and crew scrambled to escape, some of them were lucky, but the detection delay cost them dearly, many of the gun crews didn't it as the blast doors sealed off the poisoned areas, silencing many of the powerful gun batteries on the Divine Purpose The rest of the ship continued to perform, but this single attack had halved its effective output.

In the bays, the Mawites would have seen the systems flipping back to normal, then resetting drawing air in deep breaths through the Dioxis cylinders. There sense of victory would be short lived as their sentries reported Ashlan Marines preparing for a counter attack.

The end is coming...

All the drama unfolding on the Divine purpose was just a taste of what was about to follow, Isla watched in fascination and horror as a streak of bright red light shot out from behind the Mawite lines and began tracing through the stars, ripping in to several ships as it did, it was on a collision course for the Pillar "Captain! she shouted, full power to shields, evasive actions NOW!" she words left her mouth as the beam struck her ship amidships, cutting through the already weakened shields, thousands dies in an instant as the starboard flank of her ship was ripped apart in a titanic explosion, the whole ship lurched violently and Isla was thrown to the ground as the inertial dampening systems were overloaded. The beam passed on, heading toward other ships in the fleet, one of her Wardens was instantly annihilated by the power and the dominions were narrowly missed. She didn't know how she had survived, maybe her proximity to the Mawite flagship made the ideal shot harder.

"Damage report!" she shouted, picking herself up, she felt blood running down her forehead, the blast shields on her viewer has closed and most of the lighting was off, the second officer ran to her, "Ma'am, the Captain in unconscious, this is our damage"

To Isla it read like a horror story, Hyperdrive, targeting systems, life support, shields, hangars, so many systems knocked out, the flagship of the Grand Fleet of Ashla was done for. "S.O, if we have engines, transfer control to my terminal and give the order to abandon ship, comms, give me a holo link to that Brogan slime"

The sirens for abandon ship went off and almost immediately, pods started launching from the ship, fire was burning hot all across the massive ship. Islas own bodyguard droids had activated and had formed a defensive cordon around her, preparing to get her off the ship. But she had one more thing to do.

The comm centre sent a broadcast toward the position of the Fatalis bridge

​

"This is a message for Admiral Tu'teggacha This is Grand Admiral Isla Draellix, it appears that today is not the day for my flagship and maybe my fleet, but mark my words, we have not completed our dance. We will meet again in the future, but for now you will remember my name, and know that the Ashlan Crusade does not fear the Bogan, and I do not fear you!"

She did not know if her message would get through, but if she was not to be any more part of this battle, she needed to make sure the Ashlan victory would only be delayed and not stopped. "S.O. get a message to Cedric Grayson , tell him if he is planning on something now is the time, and get the reserve fleet to try to do something about that weapon, they need to jump in immediately and engage, if they can draw the defending fleet in front of the gun, we can buy more time." She was beginning to feel lose from her head wound and her droids wer beckoning. Her last act, and the last act of the Pillar would be one of vengeance, she locked the battlecruisers heading on to the Fatalis and put all remaining power to the engines, by the time their guns chewed through the unshielded hill, the engines and reactor should hopefully have enough momentum to continue straight into the wounded super star destroyer, nothing was guaranteed, but if her ship were to be destroyed, allow it to be in this manner.

Her job done, and her ship reading as mostly evacuated, she made one final prayer to Ashla and ran for her personal shuttle.

KV-6000
The Fighter bombers were now on top of the Eternal rule and launching their ordanance, the ship complement would regret allowing their fighter screen to leave, the ship itself had powerful point defence, so the attack was not without loss, but the nimble ships were mostly able to empty their payloads before returning toward the Fist of Demici. The battlecarrier itself was now also in optimal range and unleashing its own firepower. With the Rule distracted, it had only taken minor damage itself. "Captain of the Eternal Rule, this is Captain Erisus, we offer you the chance to surrender, you are surrounded and outmatched. turn yourself in and your crew will be spared, your own life with be given a fair judgement by Ashla"

Spoiler: Active Engagements

• Fatalis fleet
  • Pillar of retribution - crippled, abandoned, ramming course with Fatalis
  • divine purpose (taking fire -shields low, damage to port weapon systems - firing on fatalis, lending arc based support to other ships - primarily incoming Crucifixes - boarded - Reactor defended - Engines stalemate- Atmospheric control in enemy hands, counter assault underway 50% reduction in firepower due to boarding)
  • rapture (taking fire - fore shields recovered - minor damage all fighters launched, significant casualties - enemy fighters on route but not arrived yet firing on lead Crucifix)
  • Templar 1 (Crippled - loss of most port systems, on emergency power - priority to leave battle via hyperdrive)
  • Templar 2 (taking minor fire - superficial damage - firing on Fatalis)
  • 6 dominions (firing on lead crucifix, 3 destroyed, 3 with weakened shields, Minor damage)
  • 6 principalities (engaging Samael frigates at range - 2 defending damaged templar, 4 pushing with other templar)
  • 2 wardens (following battlecruisers -1 destroyed)
  • Phoenix bombers from primary fleet mostly neutralised, only a few squadrons left
• Eternal rule
  • Fist of Demici (taking minor fire - shields holding - opening fire - starfighters making attack run on Eternal Rule)
• Reserve fleet
  • preparing to jump from nearby system

​

 

[Anja Doreva]

ALLIES: What allies?
ENEMIES: Those that stand in my way
GA GA OO LALA: Dagon Kaze
GEAR:

Spoiler

Lightsabers
Phrik blades
Phrik dagger
Dressed to kill
The Ash Hellions led by Samron Gerron - on the Fortuna

O~~>HERE WE STAND<~~O​

Time was suspended momentarily.

Her teal eyes found his blue ones as he came to a stop in front of the portal - a moment of peace between Light and Dark. A heartbeat of silence within the storm.

And a tired smirk curling a corner.

The gratitude was real. causing a faint half-smile to hug Danika's mouth. Then the Jedi stepped through the portal just as time caught up with them and a slab of tunnel roof crashed to the ground mere feet away.

Hesitating at the threshold herself, Danika looked back for a last time. Her eyes finally found the one she had been waiting for since the Hellions had rounded the corner alone. A slight feeling of sadness settled in the pit of Dani's stomach.
<Why the face, girl?> the Lady of Night asked her from the end of the tunnel.
<Once more I can't say goodbye.> Danika stated simply.
<I'm still here, Dani. Always. Now go. I'll catch up.>
With a last, almost tearful, glance and a nod, the Lady of Bone finally stepped through time...

...and onto the bridge of the Fortuna.

Where Samron and Captain Gael Stark were locked in a shouting match about the course of action.
"Gentlemen! I do hate to interrupt the happy union, but can we get moving please?" she said matter-of-factly as she strode past them all, quickly composing herself.
"My Lady, the General was unclear about our course." the Captain told her.
"That is quite simple, Captain. Take us to the Alliance Fleet. And broadcast neutrality. We bring them one of theirs." she told him.
His eyes widened. "My Lady, I don't think.."
Danika turned her burning teal eyes on him. "Captain, if I cared about your opinion on this matter specifically, I would have asked for it. Now will you follow my command or do I need to replace you?" she stated coolly.
"It will be done, my Lady." he resigned with a sigh. "Whatever is left of the Alliance Fleet, at least."
"Just do it." she almost snapped.

As the Fortuna lurched into movement, Danika approached Dagon.
"Don't fall asleep on me now, Master Jedi." she told him. "If you do, you'll miss your ride back to your hallowed halls."
She then led the way to the closest life pods.

Coming to a stop in front of one the pods, she turned to face him once more.
"I am letting you go now. But one day, darling, I will collect on the favour. I'll keep you to your word of freeing me from eternal misery." she said, the sinister light back in her eyes once more as she stepped aside. "Try not to get yourself killed in the meantime." The smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth lightened her face slightly.

The internal comms crackled to life with the Captain's voice.

"We are clear to launch."

//Final Post

 

[Melydia Gold]

SIDE: Defender
OBJECTIVE II.: The friend-saving
LOCATION: Tombs, Korriban
WEARING: x | x
CARRYING: x | x | x | x | x
TAG: Dis

T H E _ S W A R M K E E P E R​

A few beads of sweat gathered around Melydia's face, catching on the spines that protruded from her being, stinging the fresh bits of growth. She took two deep breaths before pulling herself up to her feet on shaky legs, hand grasping onto a stone for extra support. "We appreciate your praise," she said after one more inhale to steady herself. "But we are not done yet."

There was still much to do indeed. They still needed to gather their friends, see them escape. That or see that the world itself remained, though Melydia wasn't quite sure what she could do there, if anything. No, her efforts were more so focused on the creatures she would call friends. "We may have woken the being, we do not know how long we might control it," she turned to Dis, the glow in her eyes dimming. "Where are your friends we're saving? We may need to move quickly."

Apart from the creatures that clung to her now, there were a couple of young Terentateks, rescued when she and Arcturus Dinn encountered their dying mother. She'd nurtured a couple of the young ones, occasionally looking after those Thesh had taken under his care as well. She wasn't about to leave them in the sands to die.

 

[Auteme]

Cedric Grayson Romi Jade Darth Solipsis Taeli Raaf Dakrul Pom Stych Tivé Maestus
​

Auteme had been able to resist it, but upon entering the ritual chamber, the weight of the Dark Side seemed to bear down on her. Everything she saw -- and the many things she did not -- grated at the soul, strangling the senses. Everything she heard...

She was forced to keep her focus on Darth Solipsis. Darkness rolled off him in waves, making his presence impossible to ignore. His power was unmistakable, the intensity of it reminded her of her few encounters with Dark Lords in the past. Solipsis's was not the fiery hunger of Darth Vulcanus, nor the void that was Darth Carnifex; it was terror, hatred, raw and uncompromising power. It was very nearly joy, a horrendous satisfaction at some unknown success.

She knew many claimants, but of them, this was the only one she could see as Sith'ari. The very thought crippled her. For creatures of reason, how could they stand against the incomprehensible, a man renewed, without limit? She was frozen by fear. That was not how a Jedi was meant to be, but she did not feel very much like a Jedi. She felt surrounded by death, the weight and history of the Sith, and their most dangerous disciples renewed.

Cedric's resolve was stronger than hers, and struck first, but Solipsis was undeterred. He unleashed his power in turn -- and finally Auteme gathered enough of herself to take action.

It was hardly borne of her own skill or strength, but instead her desperation. Protecting others was always the easiest thing to do. Her base reflex manifested in a barrier. Strands of light materialized and wove into a glowing wall between Solipsis and the Jedi. The Sith's terrible power tore at the desperate defense, but the barrier seemed to heal as quickly as it was ripped into.

The sweat and stress may as well have done enough damage to her as the arcing lightning, though -- there was nothing else she could do as the darkness encroached on her mind.

 

[Darth Daiara]

Darth Mori | Allyson Locke

Spoiler: The Story

SIX DAYS AGO..​

METALORN

Much had weighed on the Shi'ido's mind in that moment when Aradia had spoken, and, though she knew it was in her own best interest to divulge at least some of the innerworkings of her mind with the girl, she couldn't quite find the strength of will to speak the evils she wished into existence - as if keeping silent, keeping those thoughts inside, was the single thing preserving the one last remaining shred of Vesta Zambrano. It would have to be spoken, perhaps even soon, but now was not the time for her to relinquish her one last tether, even if she was the only one that knew it existed. Her expression hardened, conflicted, and she looked away, towards the gleam of the moon - a moon that was different from one she had stared into before, but its silvery light was a reminder of a night she was slowly starting to forget all the same.

"I want to destroy what led to who I am today." She answered.

It was cryptic, perhaps, but it was also telling - there was much that could be attributed to what created the Sith Lord, both literally and figuratively, in every sense of the word. "The chains that bind us ought to be destroyed, but also the reasons that they were put on us in the first place." Mori added, turning away as she pivoted towards the crypt. Her hand reached out, the earthen coating that covered her sword crumbling into sand - as if undone - and the blade was pulled from its momentary tomb back into her hand through the force, her fingers wrapping around its lengthy hilt without offering any visible indication that she'd expected anything outside such a result.

"Come, you have much to learn. You will learn more of me in the coming days, as we forge our bond as master and apprentice."

Χ Ξ Σ - 6 6 6​

CURRENT DAY​

KORRIBAN

Red sands, devoid of life and home of the dead - this was where it had all began, thousands of years ago. King Adas had led his people here, and abroad to the stars beyond, in order to repel the Rakata, to keep his people free from the bondage of an oppressive people, to maintain a rule of the powerful, of the right. Her people, the adherents to this legacy, had forgotten their purpose, lost their way, and this desolate ruin was a monument to all of their failures, a testament to their collective egos. Tombs that had been gaudily adorned with extravagant jewels and objects of power were picked clean by their successors, and the tombs of those by the next - stagnation had ruled the Sith even before the Brotherhood of Darkness had convened on Ruusan, it was a curse cast from the moment the powerful left anything of worth behind that their lessers, and their progeny, desired. The Sith, destroyer of chains, had willingly shackled themselves to a past, to a tradition, for millennia.

To destroy it would be their salvation.

The Brotherhood of the Maw and their New Sith Order, Darth Solipsis himself even, had chosen to comb the world for some stone yet unturned, for some artifact undiscovered, and Mori had seen it pertinent to bring her apprentice - Darth Daiara - to the desolate world both to show her their history and to show her the pointlessness of their hoarded wealth and power. "Each of them, every single one of these great and powerful Sith, amounted to nothing." She said, her voice full of disdain. "Dead, all of them, the moment they deluded themselves into believing they were better than they truly were." The Shi'ido noted with a sweeping gesture of her hand towards the crumbling edifice that had long since been buried by wind-carried sands as they walked into the path left by the Maw that had arrived before them, a tunnel that was dug deep under the Sith Academy.

She looked towards her apprentice, her gaze sweeping up and over her, and she appeared to see passed her - through heat and beyond dunes that towered around the Academy. The enemy, as she'd spoken to Aradia before, were soon upon them - she'd seen the burning in her dreams, a fulfilment of a prophecy she believed might liberate those that came after them, and her legacy, from the burdens of a past that her predecessors could not let go of. "All of this, all of them, and everything that clings to it, must be destroyed." She said at last, her gaze shifting down towards Aradia's face as the pair walked from the front of the Academy and down into the depths below. It was not long until they were in the chambers beneath that housed old murals and objects forgotten by history, the Shi'ido seemingly unconcerned by the impending arrival of Jedi and the rest of their allies.

"You asked me, before, what it was that I wanted from the galaxy."

Gesturing towards the depiction of the Sith'ari painted in rusted blood upon the worn sandstone walls at her side, a massive Sith destroying their own people in flames - like crops to feed the soil - so that they could be reborn more powerful than before, she raised her gaze towards the ships that emerged in the sky far above. "I want to destroy our past." She said, before looking the girl in the eyes. "So that the Sith may emerge unshackled from what we have clung to for so long."

"I will bleed dry those that resist."

There was malice in her words, not the emotionless cold that the girl might've been accustomed to hearing - a fire was there, deep within the Sith Lord, and it burned hotter than the sun. Like a fading facade the stoic look she'd worn for so long, as well as any semblances of conflict, was steadily replaced with an anger that could nearly be felt as much as it was seen.

"And those that wronged us."

Allyson Locke ​

(Attacking / Intending to destroy the planet)

//: Darth Mori //: Darth Daiara //:
//: G L I T T E R & G O L D //:

​

Korriban.

It was a land with a devastating history for the Sith and the birthplace of the Darkside. Here Sith would travel to learn and become stronger. At one time, this was a place where the Sith would learn, residing in temples to their dark desires. Not anymore, with the Empire collapsing and becoming nothing more than a ghost of their previous selves - there was nothing more for the Sith here.

Or so most thought.

Dirt and rubble shifted under the pair of leather boots, the Force creating a breeze to erase the technomancer’s steps. Some rumors circulated through her networks, someone had resurfaced, and Allyson remembered their ties to the former emperor. Slowly and steady, she moved through the blood-red sand. How fitting for a Sith world, the ground covered in blood-colored dirt. The Corellian scoffed at the thought and entered where she had been tracking Vesta and her companion.

There was a familiarity that pulled at her. The woman who had accompanied the Sith Lord was someone she knew, someone she had saved, and one of her biggest regrets. Aradia was an unfortunate girl who seemed to find herself over her head. Even the first time the pair had met, she was unconscious and assumed dead. Not taking Aradia from the Sith when she had left pained the Spy, but she couldn’t let those attachments hinder her mission.

In the end, Aradia would eventually play a more significant part in Allyson’s life being involved with her padawan. The knowledge she had only picked up second hand, but with Aradia came information on Zaavik.

She couldn’t think of her wayward padawan; the boy was on his own journey - learning who he was in this galaxy. It wasn’t the Corellian’s place to interfere even though he went against their home - even Allyson struggled with feeling like the Alliance was home. Shaking her head, she began to climb, hidden by the Force and from the Force through Force Cloak and Void in the Force. She was nothing as she rose to gain a better view.

Words muffled through the area, and Allyson knew she was drawing closer. Deeper into the hell hole of the Sith world. A chill hung in the air, and Allyson did her best to push back the lingering thoughts of darkness and death. How easy it was for one to fall to the dark side, it was a shortcut, and it fed on the residual hate one held in their heart.

Finally, Allyson got a complete view of the Sith Lord and the Apprentice as she finished climbing. Drawing her bow from her back, she strung an arrow and focused on the Force itself. The tip of the arrow began to glow brightly with the light of the Force. Without warning, the Spy attempted the assassination to slay a devil before its plans came to fruition.
The arrow sang through the air, poised to strike Vesta in the throat. There was a hope that if she could kill Vesta - she could save Aradia.

If she saved Aradia - she could save Zaavik. ​

​

Darth Mori | Allyson Locke

Vesta's words would have frightened her once upon time. Before the wars-- before Bastion-- before her life had fallen apart. Now the harsh declarations made a degree of sense. The galaxy had turned its back on her. Kaalia had turned her back on her.

What her and Zaavik needed now more than ever was freedom from that past that wanted to hurt them. And if that freedom came a price? She clenched her fist, her once blue eyes now speckled with orange.

She would pay it. For him.

"How?" She asked, her voice hoarse as she looked over the mural. She had been here before. She had already seen this academy fall... and rise... and now... A twinge of something caught in her chest, but she swallowed it back.

"You cannot kill a past. And even if you did, I do not think they would care." Her gaze slid to the horizon. She could feel them in the distance.

Jedi.

"They are coming." Vesta had not warned her about this, but in a way she was glad. If she had known, she would have had a promise to keep.



She grimaced.

"This place is lost, why are we even-" A whistle of warning snapped by her ear. She turned sharply, her hood falling back to reveal pale features and a tumble of orange hair. She reacted on instinct, a ball of fire spitting from her hand towards the source. Allyson Locke

Nothing was visibly there, but in her tunnel-visioned response, she missed the arrow.

*unwittingly destroying korriban

MONSTERS​

"Never forget that there is one single ounce of knowledge we must humble ourselves with, even when we've reached a peak that might, at last, blot out the light itself - remember we die. Death doesn't care if you're good, if you're evil, strong, poor, rich, or weak. Death takes us all."


It would have been a lie if Mori had claimed she'd noticed Allyson Locke when she'd reached her vantage point, and it'd be a rather bold claim if she'd said she had anticipated the arrow by some sixth sense of danger or anything else similarly opportunistic, but the fact of the matter was that she had simply been turning her head in the direction of her assailant when the rather, in the eyes of someone seeing through the force as she had been, bright missile caught her eye as her apprentice spoke. The arrow, thusly, missed its mark not totally but by mere centimeters - tearing through the side of her shoulder, the length of the side of her upper left arm, as she turned her body and leaned into her apprentice to knock the two of them out of the way as the girl misunderstood the threat of someone that could have crept up on a master of stealth that one needed to be when capable of seamlessly, perhaps perfectly, stealing another's identity while surrounded by Jedi or Sith alike.

So she didn't make any such claims - not in the future, in life or in death - likely because she'd never willingly bring up the time she was unable to detect a mere human nearly successfully assassinating her, though she supposed Belia Darzu would've likely done the same if she had survived a similar, if not more embarrassing, death.

At the time, though, Darth Mori's thoughts were hardly on the implications of her own sensory-related shortcomings and more on the fight that had been prematurely brought to the two of them. She didn't bother wasting the energy to push herself up from the ground, the Shi'ido simply shifted another leg jutting out of the side of her hip to keep herself from completely falling over, and with the arm she'd used to brace herself against Darth Daiara she shoved her away from her with a forceful shove of telekinetic energy. "Find a way to a ship and Tu'teggacha, aid him - I will explain later, move." She commanded, her left leg disappearing as she righted herself by simply shape-shifting her midsection to be more anatomically correct with her then-lopsided lower half in order to right herself. Her left hand, meanwhile, reached down for the blade at her hip, the one she'd confiscated from her apprentice after their fateful encounter with the girl's mother, and with a (noticeably) strained tug at its sleek hilt she released it from its scabbard and, with a little touch of telekinesis, unsheathed its full length for her right hand to wield - which she promptly snatched at its hilt with to do exactly that.

Allyson Locke might've had the element of surprise, but she did not bring with her the same degree of anonymity that would've prevented the Sith Lord from knowing precisely who had been her attacker upon being seen - and, more importantly, who was now her prey. The two had met before, briefly, though she doubted the woman realized that she was the same girl that'd quelled an enraged Darth Prazutis on Krayiss II, or that she was far more a terrifying foe than she'd ever let herself on to be. Terrifying, in fact, to the point that whatever presence the spy might've felt in the force from the woman, or perhaps her appearance - dark though it might have been - if she'd been viewing her as a Miralukan might've needed to, the darkness that could be felt grew even as the Shi'ido's flesh was cut.

Pain was her friend, and anger her mistress.

Electricity raced down the length of the blade, sparks of red coated with a deep, black, void filling the air with loud crackling as lightning would, and soil sprung from the ground at her feet and affixed itself to the woman's wound, painfully sealing it shut. It would have been in the Jedi's best interest to move, though Mori did not care to throw casual hints to her intent to kill the woman so much as project every ounce of her anger through the force in the way of deadly sight - not the sort that Darth Maul might've used to atomize a man, instead only to offer the woman a torturous experience if she was foolish enough to root herself in place or let loose more of her frustratingly painful arrows.

Her grip tensed around the hilt of her sword, the only means she intended to kill the woman with - if death was in the cards.

Still working to destroy Korriban

//: Darth Mori //: Darth Daiara //:
//: G L I T T E R & G O L D //:

​

Aradia's actions were far from what the Corellian had anticipated. She remembered the girl as a small and weak child who was more lost than found. The fire was new, and having it aimed her way was very new. Quickly, still under the guise of the force cloak, Allyson shifted her position to avoid the fireball from the Apprentice. It seemed that Aradia was not the same girl as before, and a sickening feeling bubbled from her stomach. Had Aradia been the one to tempt Zaavik from the light? Was she at fault for everything? Did she kill Zaavik in the end?

Thousands of questions and scenarios echoed through the Corellian's mind. There were too many questions, but her attention needed to be on the master. The arrow had hit close enough to its mark, Aradia being the sounding alarm preventing the kill from being clean. Still, the Sith Lord had a wound, and Allyson looked at it as a positive in her favor.

Before Allyson could reach Aradia, Mori had pushed her aside and became the focal point once more for the mission. Drawing another arrow, she listened to the command from the Master; Allyson watched her chances at saving Aradia begin to slip through her fingers. There wasn't much time, especially as the static began to fill the area. As one foot moved in front of the other, she moved gracefully with the aid of the force and years of covert ops under her belt. Allyson brought the arrow back to her sights and aimed true once more towards the Sith.

She couldn't let Aradia leave, not yet. Against everything her experience told her, Allyson dropped the cloak, revealing herself to both the Sith and Aradia. "So this is where you've been?" She asked pointedly to the Apprentice while the arrow remained drawn and aimed towards Mori. "Where's Zaavik?!"

Allyson never looked at the girl, instead of allowing the force's bright light to imbue the arrow's tip. As her question finished, she released the shot. Not wanting to give the Sith Lord a chance to breathe, she fired another arrow; this one lacked the force light but was equipped with an explosive tip so that when contact was made with the head - it would explode.

"Aradia, I told you I would come back for you." ​

Darth Mori | Allyson Locke

The world dissolved into chaos, her knees jamming into the ground as Vesta used her own body to drop them to safety.



A pulse of the force reinforced Vesta's words. Aradia felt herself fly back, her body twisting like a cat as she fought right herself. Her slide ended with her on her feet, a strand of hair sticking to her forehead. "But-" She did not want to leave her, but her childish protests died the moment Vesta stood on her own (nearly reformed) feet.

The Sith Lord was fully capable of covering both of their backs. "Fine." She turned, moving robotically as the energies of the invasion washed ov--

A spark of light dropped into existence.


Aradia's heart seized, then rebooted into a frantic skipping beat. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it years.



"Safe," she whispered into the air, and thank the Force for it. She played into the woman's hand and turned back to the scene, gold-speckled eyes locking on the agent's face.



Aradia didn't flinch at the arrow that was released. She'd have blocked it if she hadn't sense that Vesta was already halfway there. The sith was stronger than her, in so many ways. It wasn't Vesta's life she feared for. She raised a hand, a force-shield interceding Vesta's chance to counter-attack.

It was Allyson's.

Tendril's of darkness weaved like a chain-linked fence between the two force masters. She knew she wouldn't be able to hold them off for long, but that was okay. She only needed a moment. Aradia looked upon the face of an old friend. Allyson looked the same as she remembered-- spritely and fierce and just as annoying. Aradia's was paler than she use to be, her skin paper-thin and speckled with veins. Her confliction was visible.

"But you never did come." It had been years since Allyson blinked. The whole time the shadow had had Aradia convinced that she was on her side. But Allyson ...wasn't... was she? Aradia was finally strong enough to see the true nature of the force inside the woman. It had all been a ruse... And Aradia had been young enough to fall for it.

The heat of betrayal clawed its way through her, condensing into an itch in her palm. Her hand erupted in flames.


"You lied to me." The wall shattered outwards, the blast of energy lashing out indiscriminately.

EAT YOU ALIVE
​

Eclipse the Light.

Bold words for an empire built on the backs of the outcasts of outcasts, Sith that had gathered from the shattered remains of titans in the eyes of recent galactic history - where the Sith Empire might've lived longer and proved a terrible threat for much of its lifetime, those that came before had shattered their enemies against the proverbial rocks below. Still, despite her distinct lack of respect for an entity that had failed to realize how it could leverage its behemoth size and its advantage in numbers, there was some measure of understanding she had for the phrase, now that she saw what sort of nuisance these Jedi could be when they played to their emotional strengths - to friendship, camaraderie, and trust. The girl ignored her command in favor of the woman she presumably had known from the past in an outright, obvious, betrayal of the implicit bond between master and apprentice.

So much these scavengers had taken from her, be it her mother or every other being she'd considered herself close enough to, that she would not tolerate it any more.

The quiver in the girl's heart had been noticed the moment she had hesitated, just as the absence of light in the woman's arrow was a stark contrast from the one she'd drawn and loosed before. Vestigial limbs, the legs that had been buckling when she'd pushed Darth Daiara out of the way prior, were shifted away as the Sith lord relinquished the efforts to inflict pain through sight and started towards the archer without regard for the projectile flying towards her. Her sword dropped from her grip as she lifted her injured arm up towards the arrow in a gesture that made clear that she'd been keen on grabbing for the missile, only for her to be halted in place as the glimmer of a barrier created a wall between the Mori and her prey. Her heart stopped, eyes closed, and she clenched her jaw tight.

This, this incessant mercy - this childish interference - was one she couldn't stand. She'd left her last apprentice over it, over the squeamish nature she'd had towards anything that might cause issue for the people she cared about without any regard for the Shi'ido, and she would have readily abandoned this one if it weren't for the perfect fit the girl had in Mori's plans. Anger burned through her, like fire in her veins, with such heat that it was physically painful for her to contain all of that rage, all of her frustrations, her jealousy of having yet another person choose someone else over her; and so she didn't. That outstretched hand closed to a fist, exerting telekinetic force from all sides around the arrow - unwilling to trust her traitorous apprentice's barrier with her life - and let her lips curl into a fierce smirk as its head ruptured and exploded.

She pulled her hand, the fist, back towards her, towards her hip on the same side of her body, and siphoned the thermal and kinetic energy from the explosion like a vortex into her - or, rather, into the barrier that stood in her way - whilst her free hand, her right hand, was flung up in an almost synchronous manner to unleash a concentrated wall of telekinetic energy towards the only thing that stood between Allyson Locke and her. The barrier shattered as Aradia decided that siding with the Sith was the better choice, a decision that had saved her from Mori's direct wrath, and the fist of the Shi'ido's left hand opened to pull her sword from its place in the ground back towards her - into her grip where it belonged.

"Your attention should be on me." She said coolly, her eyes opening as she switched her blade between hands.

She stepped towards the Jedi again, first slowly and then faster with each successive footfall that followed, as she became determined to reach her - arrows of light or not. Earth and stone shifted beneath her feet as she reached a sprint, lifting her upwards like a living staircase, while electricity played at the length of her sword. She could've refrained from brutality, from direct engagement, and focused more on survival and pyrrhic warfare, but there were times where a master must demonstrate the folly of believing oneself above them, or beyond their reach. The sword was flung forwards from her grip as she swung her right hand and let it go, launching it like a javelin guided through the force towards the Jedi.

"I'm going to enjoy this."

//: Darth Mori //: Darth Daiara //:
//: G L I T T E R & G O L D //:

​

Allyson frowned, seeing the redhead protect the Sith Lord. A part of her had hoped whatever good was in her - still lingered. It seemed Aradia was more lost than she had expected. Suddenly another flaming attack from the girl, and Allyson dove forward into a tumble to avoid it. She set herself up again as she stood, arrow and bow still drawn.

“You lied to me.” Allyson felt the pain with those words as they slipped through Aradia’s lips. Her face didn’t show the pain or frustration; she just grinned and snorted. “You know, if I had a credit for every time someone told me that - I’d be pretty rich.” It felt as if anyone thought of her; the word liar would follow. The word had become synonymous with her name, and it killed her. So many of her relationships were destroyed by that word; it even lost her Zaavik.

“You’re being stupid, kid. Why couldn’t you and Zaavik just run off? Do something crazy like elope, make a home and have a feth ton of kids? Why couldn’t you do that?” Anger rose in the back of her throat. “But no, you had to ruin the guy - I failed him too, I know that-'' Allyson looked towards the Sith Lord, who interjected, a small smile curled on the Corellian’s face as she nodded.

“Feeling left out, sweetheart?” Allyson’s eyes glanced quickly to Aradia, “Get out of here before I decide to kill you too, along with your Master.” Another lie to the girl, hopefully, it was enough.

The distraction that Aradia had caused was enough time for Mori to move, catching Allyson off guard. The arrows of light flew forward again, aiming towards the quickly moving Sith Lord. Each shot aimed towards the woman’s torso - hoping to cause enough damage for her to slow down. As Allyson drew new arrows, infusing them with the light, she sprinted and tumbled backward.

Mori was someone Allyson wanted no business being close to Mori - she saw the blade and wanted no part of it near her. Suddenly, the Sith decided to use the weapon like a spear, throwing it towards her. “Oh, kark.” The sword cut through the air quickly, and Allyson figured it was sith crafted, which would mean her arrows could detour it.

Taking aim, she drew an energy arrow of pure light and fired it towards the blade. Without seeing if it hit its mark, the Corellian tumbled to the side and fell back into the protection of the Force cloak.​

Aradia watched as Vesta surged onto Allyson-- two people who had had a hand at shaping her. Aradia had plenty of reasons to protect the spy from her Master's wrath, but those reasons dissipated when Allyson spoke.

“But no, you had to ruin the guy -

The words earned a visible flinch, her anger splashing into tangible pain. By all means, Allyson. Tell her how you really feel. The hostile turn left the world walloping. Her arms wrapped around her core, as if that would protect her from any further low blows. Her throat pinched tightly.

Arrows flew, electricity crackled through the air. Vesta did not ask for her help, sparing her the trouble of having to make a choice. Did she not trust Aradia to make the right one? ...Was she right not to?

Aradia had been given a task. The invasion raged on around them, lives entering the force with each disturbance that rippled across her senses. Reality felt distant. Her chest beat erratically. If she had the word for a panic attack she would know she was having one, yet all she could do was think of him.

She took a step back from them both. She didn't expected them to notice, they were shooting to kill and it couldn't eek a speck of emotion from her. Something told her she should care-- turning her back to them now might mean she'd never seen one of them again. They weren't what mattered, though.

He was.

She wasn't ruining him.

She turned and started towards the ship-- following orders, or breaking them, depending on your vantage point. She flicked open her holo pad and sent out an encrypted signal.

Zaavik Perl

///Things have gone south.///
///Meet me at the Nest.///​

 

[Romi Jade]

ASHLAN CRUSADE
Allies: Cedric Grayson @ | Auteme @ | Other love & light folks
Enemies: Darth Solipsis | @Darth Ophidia| Taeli Raaf | Maestus | Darth Voracitos | Ishani Dinn | Dakrul | Gnost Zym | Alina Tremiru | Darth Mori | MAW/Sith folks (cause lots of you idk, feel free to knock me around idk)
----------

Theme:

​

The strange substance they had been forged from seemingly evaporated into acrid smoke as it hit the floor beyond, and once again, Cedric felt the dominating presence of Darth Solipsis.

"It is you..." She murmured through the tension, but then it was suddenly drowned out by her sharp intake of breath. She stood behind but towards the center of Auteme and Cedric and stared for a long while, non-blinking, building her will before the inevitable battle. She worked the room, scanning silhouettes, or rather what her eyes perceived them as -- there were others here...and then there was...

She never would've imagined -- "Taeli..." her mind whispered, but it was loud and resonant.

She knew the stench anywhere...often times still feeling the small fragments of what brought them together a long time ago; what kept them connected. But, it was the irritation she felt. The list of names she'd kept within the deepest parts of her mind -- people she deemed irredeemable, and those she swore to take out.

"What a lovely reunion... Auteme, Romi Jade, NEPHEW."

They should stayed aboard that ship and ended Darth Solipsis long ago; All she could think about was being on that ship and being so close...

"Nephew...?" Her head lurched forward, her locs swiping along her chest.

Cedric Leapt for his foe, and that was that.

Auteme shielded them.

Hiss-crack!

Romi spun at the silent shriek that shot the force and up her spine, but she didn't need the Force to feel the gathering happening at their six. Her mighty swing spun her around, and as she completed the circle, her scarlet blade carved an infinity symbol in the air before her. Intended to put space between them.

Romi's face screwed up, "Get back!" she growled.

The men reeled back, members of the Palatine Guard, and she stepped forward in challenge before her head snapped around and she stared up at Dakrul , fury in her eyes

Romi leveled her long blade.

In the Force: she sunk and surrendered like an exhausted swimmer drowning in a rising tide.

Slipping into Vaapad -- Recalling her sessions with Darron Wraith...or rather what was left of him.

Her blade flashed forward.

The Guard's blade whirred through the air, with an intention of making contact...but, hers whirred faster. She advanced. And they briefly exchanged blows before a stray blow caught him off guard and she deftly moved inside his flailing arms, using her elbows and the backs of her clenched hands to knock around his face. She continued to hurt him, telling herself: This is for Niima Outpost, where she had first encountered the Maw Horde and was captured; and this is for the trouble you all stirred up after.

She pivoted on her left foot and kicked him hard with her right, forcing the wind from him.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

ONE OF TWO THINGS SHALL HAPPEN
KORRIBAN | SITH ACADEMY | LIBRARY
When you get to the end of all the light you know
and it's time to step into the darkness of the unknown,
faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen:
either you will be given something solid to stand on,
or you will be taught how to fly.

ALL THE PRETTY PIECES
​

Ishida’s eyes moved between his, trying to capture the cloudy emotion in their depths but only managed to realize a brief, bright flash before the sword’s effect took over.

The blade’s touch had more purpose than severe sharpness –– its connection to the skin of the acolyte was intentionally imbued with Light’s gentle jury. Benevolence that siphoned through memories by opening the acolyte’s mind to establish a bridge for the wielder to walk across and dive into the sea of their memories. Tragedy's undertow was too strong to deny, and in the overwhelming tides that welcomed the connection, Ishida was swept away –– powerless to control her own reactions.

“Uuhn..” Ishida moaned, feeling her knees buckle as the connection was made between the redhead girl’s history and the trio’s shared present.

Everything folded into a blur. The library’s shelves turned into stone walls, and the floor stretched endlessly to a street. Smouldering flames that licked away at ancient texts broadened into daylight. The Defense Force’s soldier’s silhouettes became smaller, more clustered and around them. At first, all Ishida could hear was a loud, thumping heartbeat in her ears and the pressure that pounded behind her eyes as a companion. Indiscriminate sounds at high volume bounced from the left to right, surrounding her focus and making it difficult to understand anything that was happening. She searched for answers and found nothing but death at her feet. But it didn’t make sense, and because she couldn’t see the answers she sought, she heard herself ask –– her voice felt small, scared, and tight at the back of her throat. She received an answer, a definition of who she was, and what she would be, and felt another bout of confusion overwhelm her.​

​

For a long, stretching moment, there was nothing but blackness, shattered only with the knowledge of what was to come –– thick, aching anticipation welled in her chest. That anxious anticipation came out in expert demonstrations of her blade, self-defense twitching and pulling muscles to react intentionally and swiftly. Together, in shared smiles and temporary trust, they preserved one another. The companionship tightened through the vision, dragging the two Jedi into the experience and folding them in tightly to ensure they were viscerally experiencing the rolling emotions, thoughts, and physical sensations. ​

​

Her sword’s handle became a lever, and it took all of her strength not to inch it under the strain and to haul it down at the same time. Her biceps ached, palms feeling raw from the pressure of repeated pulls. But fatigue was overpowered by the thrill of potential, and genuine eagerness found its way through her lungs. The very real sensation of relief rode on its coattails and coalesced with the excitement. The promises of safety for the students were coming true and victory –– the growing happiness was thwarted sharply by a haunting echo that rattled in their mutual psyche. His screaming and threat endlessly reverberating through the corridors of her mind. The echoes of the death, and the final threat, and all that it meant were loud the chamber’s proverbial silence. ​

​

Heat surged in her belly and burned at her throat, and as she hurled forward to vomit, the bottomless abyss smeared into something solid, hardening and shading with different sources of artificial light. It was a constrictive space, suddenly, a cell. And what she looked through caused something to shift in her gut.​

​

Adjusted judgement solidified in their shared prefrontal cortex, amplified in Ishida’s mind by the impressions she’d had before the sword had taken over. Fury took over, warming them with action and the neutral, dignified expression of the soldier contorted and twisted into agony. Colour drained from the object, and she couldn’t hear him screaming, only the same, panicked, thunderous, thump-thump-thump-thump of her heartbeat in her own ears as she had at the beginning of the journey. The same flash of confusion tore through her and ripped her apart until the face of the imprisoned Alliance soldier morphed again. Their chokes silenced, their shivering jawline and throbbing throat became supple and fresh, still pallid, silent, staring, pleading.​

​

That psychometric sword might as well have plunged right through her heart. Korriban was spinning, and it was more than the planet, it was her body too. Her mind was heavy, burdened with the intermingling experience of the acolyte, Ishida’s perception, and the Light’s gentle arbitration.

Hush settled: stinging and wounded.

Ishida was shaking. Her legs weak and her head swimming as if fading in and out of consciousness. It wasn’t the severance of the connection –– the sword deciding that it had found the right memories and shared enough information to pass judgement –– that drew her back to lucidity, but rather the panicked, tormented inhale-exhale patterns she didn’t realize she’d adopted from the acolyte through the vision and carried into their present. Her chest heaved, her throat opened and closed in an erratic rhythm that forced her to sob so that her lungs might have the chance to fill.

All the enveloping sensations the sword had shared with them faded to tertiary awareness, and reality focused on the devastating weight of the evaluation it had conducted on the acolyte. Its decision tremoured through the hilt against Ishida’s skin, Ashla’s gentle whispers of redemption prickled her flesh and made her shivers even more violent.

Her eyes remained closed, lulled into the back of her head. Nausea threatened. Tears soaked her eyelashes and cheeks. Her heart thrummed, lightning behind her breastbone. A hard pitch in her stomach. Overstimulated. Her brain was in overdrive. Her nose was bleeding and she could feel stressed, spasming twitches pulling at her eyelids. Perspiration dotted her brow and intermingled with the blood that stained her face, and the fresh trickle from her nose; filling her slack-jawed mouth with the taste of salt and copper.

When her eyes opened, she blinked several times and stared ahead. That's all she could do –– stare at the bundle of flesh, freckles, tissue, nerves, bone, blood, water, trauma, pain, fear, helplessness, survival and humanity in front of her. A materialization of Ishida’s fear, her failure. Certainty was shattered by choice. And with choice, came the chance to be wrong. And wrongness brought shame and regret and knowing she’d failed.

Until she couldn’t look anymore and she screwed her eyes shut and was consumed by the trembles –– like punishing lashes –– that rolled through her body.

Ishida, the scathing light, flickered.

Conflicting messages circulated in her recovering awareness, and she gnashed her teeth as if the physical compounding of her bones would squeeze out the intrusive voices.

"And so... nothing is as it seems, Padawan Ashina. Something beautiful can be corrupted beyond repair."

he is a bit too certain about his judgement.​

"Do you understand?"​

"Ours is a solemn duty. We kill without hesitation, because it is the right thing to do."​

"If we look at the Light and only see what it can burn away, what it can destroy, then we blind ourselves to what separates it from the Dark.."​

I'll kill you! You hear me? I'll kill you!​

" Its capacity for healing, for compassion, and forgiveness."​

"Kenth, she's our ticket out of here!"

We shouldn't celebrate death, even if the slain are as reprehensible

" as ...you..Padawan Ashina.

She didn’t feel solid, instead, she was hollow. An echo chamber for all their words, all those voices that spoke different promises, gave divergent and convergent instruction somehow all at once. She just couldn't see it, she'd failed to see it. There was nothing behind her eyes. A negative of a person. All she wanted was blackness, blackness, and silence. Heartache consumed her, devoured her waning intellect. She wanted to be physically erased, no longer exist where she cowered.

When she dropped the sword to the ground, it was loud against the stonework.

“N--no.” She gasped, just a soundless buzz of her vocal cords as she struggled to break entirely from the clinging mirage the sword permeated.

One step backward, then another, and a final one –– Ishida put distance between herself and the acolyte. All the while, her legs threatened to give out on her. Three steps was all her body allowed.

And then, as a final denouement of the shared vision and experience with the acolyte, the Jedi dropped to her knees on the floor. Just as the acolyte had in this very building.

ALLIES | GA | AC | NIO | NJO | Bernard
FOES | SITH | BOTM | SELF?

 

[The Battalion]

The Battalion had patiently set everything of the ritual into motion when she felt the wave of Dark Side Energy from Darth Solipsis wash over the planet, as well as the massive amounts of death from the Super Weapon being fired.

We're out of time... The Battalion thought as the Light Sith gathered around her in a meditative circle.

HIS POWER GATHERS. HE TWISTS THE DARK OVER KORRIBAN AND FEEDS the ancient spirits warned.

"Then it is time to show all of Korriban, and Solipsis himself, that the Dark Side is not yet his, that this planet is not a plaything for him to use and discard as he desires..." The Battalion hissed. "Forbears of Korriban, work your dark will through me! I will be your conduit to wrath."

YESSSSSS...YOU SHALL DO NICELY, WITCH.

The Battalions flesh shuddered everywhere as she levitated at the center of the chamber, Dark Red Lightning arcing off her body.

"Skeleton!" She called out to a Model 1. "Signal to your brothers to evacuate the tunnels! It's time!"

The Battalion shuddered, a wealth of Force Knowledge being metabolized in her body as the Ancient Spirits worked through her, using her as a signal relay to spread their power outward. The pain was immense, and she let out an involuntary, metallic, pig like squeal as the essence of the planet itself flowed through her.

There was a great rumble. The heat increased to the point it could barely be tolerated.

Across the planet, the will of Solipsis would meet competition from the will of the Pure Blood Spirits of those who had built Korriban from the ground up, unwilling to be consigned to oblivion just on his whim.

The sky flashed deadly red lightning from the sky to the ground, not enough to be considered a true bombardment, but enough so that whatever it struck was either heavily damaged or annihilated on contact in a fiery explosion. Many a platoon lost their lives in random strikes...a few tanks exploded.

But that was nothing comparing to the horror bubbling upward fierce and glowing from the heart of Korriban's inner crust.

It was magma...

Meanwhile...

"WEEEEE DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG IN OUR MINE THE WHOLE DAY THROOOOOOUUUGH!!! TOOO DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG DIG IS WHAT WE REALLY LIKE TO DOOOOO!" some of the Model 1's sang as they excavated through fault lines, Impeding Assault Tanks helping burrow.

"IT AIN'T NO TRICK, TO GET RICH QUICK, WHEN YOU DIG DIG DIG WITH A SHOVEL OR A PICK!" other Model 1's sang back.

"IN A MINE! IN A MINE!" sang one robot mimicking a baritone as he planted the Seismic Charge.

"IN A MINE! IN A MINE!" sang another Model 1 in a high pitch.

"WHERE A MILL-ION KY-BERS....SHIIIIINNNNNE!" they all sang at once, finishing planting the last of their explosives.

Just then, the order came in over comms.

"All Model 1's, pull out! Repeat, pull out. We have officially run out of time!" Came the order.

The Model 1's knew what that meant. The first stage of the operation was about to commence. The true operation.

"Alright boys, wrap it up!" One yelled, and they and the Assault Tanks that had been helping burrow underneath began an immediate retreat close to the ancient routes The Battalion had provided.

"Think they'll feel the Void 007 above?" A Model 1 asked.

"Nah. But they'll feel what happens after..." Chuckled one of his brothers. "They're about to have them a real interesting afternoon..."

All the Model 1's cackled wickedly at this as they booked it through ancient escape routes dug by the lost, the mad, and the desperate from thousands of years past.

When they finally reached minimum safe distance, they exited the underground to pre arranged coordinates, where a number of evac ships waited. Most of the Model 1's could not do any more good here, not with what was about to happen. Only essential personnel would remain on the surface. The tanks were abandoned.

As many Model 1's as possible began leaving the planet in their evac ships, shooting far away from the main theater of battle, going as fast as possible to the other side of the planet.

That was when they triggered the minor explosions from the warheads they had brought across the fault lines, followed by the detonation of the Void charge.

Most on the ground above would barely feel the jolt of this blast. It'd be a nice thud under the feet at best.

But then the earthquakes started. Massive ones, terrible and ferocious across the landscape around the academy, the mountain ranges, and the valley of the Dark Lords.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

The Magma, deep from Korriban's core, began shooting up in violent, random gouts in addition to the earthquakes now happening everywhere, growing more and more violent as the darkness unleashed by the Battalion, channeling the will of the ancients, began to make the lightning storms worse, especially in atmosphere, where random starfighters got destroyed by red lightning...

DECEASED Aron Gowrie

The Mongrel

Fiolette Fortan

Pietro Demici

Auteme

 

[Tu'teggacha]

Location: The Fatalis, High Orbit over Korriban
Allies: Brotherhood of the Maw | KV-6000 | Derix Tirall | Marlon Sularen | Aldo Garrick
Foes: Ashlan Crusade, NIO, GA | Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Fiolette Fortan | Aerarii Tithe | Albrecht F. Herlock | Pietro Demici

All seemed lost as the Ashlans pushed on, relentless, overwhelming... but then, Tu'teggacha felt it: a gathering of power. Energy coming together, filtered through the kyber crystals so much blood had been spilled on Ilum to secure. There was a moment of stillness, of anticipation, the calm before the storm. Then the beam, that crimson explosion of wrath, cut across the darkness of space, so bright that it blotted out all the manifold stars. The Avatar of War opened fire, and everything it touched turned to ash. Once more a superweapon of the Maw was unleashed.

Once more, death and suffering followed in its wake.

The Taskmaster watched as the main Alliance battle group was cut apart, ships blasted in twain, and wondered if the Brotherhood had just slain the troublesome Vice-Chancellor at last. But far more important was the damage the Avatar had left on the way to the Alliance ships, for the beam had cut right through Tu'teggacha's attackers, so fast and so huge that his glassy eyes hadn't even been able to track it. One moment they had been fighting for their lives, pressing the fighter advantage as best they could because it was the only advantage they had left, knowing it wasn't enough.

The next, the Brotherhood fleet remnants were floating amid a graveyard.

The sensors confirmed what the Ebruchi was seeing: virtually the entire Ashlan support group had been destroyed, and the enemy flagship had been severely damaged. The battle had swung wildly in an instant, utterly changed by the intervention of the Gods made manifest. Reaching out to the Force, Tu'teggacha felt it: suffering, pain, fear, grief, so much of it all. He drank it in; so delicious. It was not so great as it had been at Csilla, when billions had died all at once, but he'd been in hyperspace by then; this time he got a front row seat, proximity only heightening the ecstasy of feeding on agony.

A barrage of enemy fire struck the shields, reminding him it wasn't over.

Indeed, though the Ashlan support fleet that had arrived to back up the flagship was all but gone, a disturbing proportion of foes had been untouched by the Avatar blast; after all, it had only gone through their lines, not targeted them directly. It seemed that the Pillar was the only ship from the main group that had taken any damage. The ecstasy faded; the situation was almost unchanged for the outnumbered Mawites, and incoming hyperspace contacts indicated that further Ashlan reinforcements were on the way. At most, the enemy had stumbled for a moment. There was no great deliverance after all.

Isla Draellix-Kobitana 's message flashed up on the screen, and Tu'teggacha watched it in silence. So the Admiral had survived, too; truly the Avatar had failed him. She would abandon ship, joining the multitude of Ashlan shuttles and escape pods streaking away from the conflict, and that would be her chance to fight again another day... but where was his? He was still surrounded: a battlecarrier, a battlecruiser, a star destroyer, and nearly a dozen escorts stood against his five remaining ships, most of which were damaged and on the brink of destruction. "We shall see, Admiral Draelix," he murmured.

They could only face each other again if he somehow managed to survive.

A new sensor reading chimed, and the Taskmaster saw that the little NIO battlegroup that had bravely run away was now returning to the fight. A bitter laugh wracked his small, hunched frame at the sight. "Ah, yes. Brave of them to come back now that the battle is all but over." He was not at all concerned about the two escort frigates; he had two of the same size, not to mention a pair of much larger Star Destroyers and the guns of the vast Fatalis itself, and could have crushed the two little ships in an instant if he hadn't been fighting bigger Ashlan ships that were much more of a threat to him.

The more pressing problem was that the little stealth corvette might return and attack, using its shield-bypassing gravity warheads to cause further havoc. Of course, that ship had full-on jumped to hyperspace, and travel through hyperspace was far from instant; you couldn't just zip from system to system in seconds. The corvette would have travel time getting away, and there would be travel time back if it returned, so Tu'teggacha felt certain it would be a little while before he had to worry about those weapons. Still, it was an added concern. When the corvette and Ashlan reinforcements arrived...

... he would still be just as doomed as before.

In that moment, the Taskmaster accepted that there would be no ground evacuation from Korriban, at least not by his dwindling forces. If he stayed to fight, to try to deliver the Dark Voice and his honor guard, all that would happen was that he would be destroyed, and all his ships with him. That would not serve the Maw, for it would accomplish nothing. They had fought the good fight, but they had lost, and it was time to reconsider his options. As if in answer, Tu'teggacha beheld the Pillar of Retribution bearing down on him, the abandoned Ashlan flagship apparently borrowing a Mawite tactic: a final ram attack.

The Fatalis was too slow and bulky to evade, even if its engines had been intact.

The Sanguine Cruor would not allow the battle to end this way. It was just under half the size of the Pillar, but with no one at the locked controls of the enemy helm, that would be enough to change the battlecruiser's trajectory. Accelerating to full sublight, the star destroyer carefully calculated its angle and location of impact... and slammed into the abandoned hulk of the enemy flagship from beneath, just below its pointed prow. It if had tried to push the Pillar back, it would have lost the struggle against the battlecruiser's engines. Instead it was pushing it up, deflecting its course over the top of the Fatalis.

The impact crippled the Mawite star destroyer, shockwaves running through its bulkheads, multiple systems taken offline. There would be no escaping this battle for the Sanguine Cruor. Most of the surviving crew ran for the escape pods... but they were of the Brotherhood, not of the cowards of "civilization". Every crewman guided shuttles and pods toward the stricken Divine Purpose, added their numbers to the ranks of the boarders. Seizing the ship was their only hope for survival, but it was a long shot. Far more likely that they would all find glorious deaths there, and that wasn't so bad an alternative.

For his part, Tu'teggacha had only one goal: clear the path to hyperspace. The Fatalis had lost a sublight engine, crippling its ability to maneuver efficiently on the battlefield, but its path engines were intact. With the Pillar out of its way, the Mawite flagship would only have to make it a short distance from Korriban's gravity well to jump out of the system, living to fight another day. The remaining sublight engines flared, and the Super Star Destroyer crept forward. "All remaining ships, clear our path!" Starfighters formed up around them, streaking in to attack any who contest their escape route.

Four squadrons streaked in to assault the Courageous and Pride of Anaxes.

The frigates and star destroyers - for the surviving gunnery crews of the Sanguine Cruor had remained behind, firing the few intact batteries madly in an effort to buy time and strike down a few more foes - kept pumping out all the fire they could, the star destroyers focusing on the remaining Templar while the frigates moved to support the fighter-bomber attack on the battlecarrier. They still couldn't win, but they could keep this defeat from being utterly catastrophic for the Brotherhood's plans of conquest. All they needed was to buy a little time and space for the flagship to make a fighting withdrawal.

"Fatalis requesting support. We are badly damaged and attempting to withdraw."

---------------------------------------------
​

Aboard the Divine Purpose, Ziraev's plan had found excellent results.

"Good work," the experienced boarder told her warband, pleased with their performance. With so many Ashlan gunners left choking on her dioxis grenades, how could she not be? They had meaningfully affected the tide of battle, and that was something to be proud of. The question now was what to do next. She was getting reports that the battle at the reactor was over, and crusader reinforcements would be en route to her position. There was something else, too, something about sudden and severe damage to the Ashlan flagship, but that wasn't directly relevant to her at the moment. She discarded the news.

"Time for a fighting withdrawal," she decided, pulling her warriors together with a quick hand signal. They would fall back to the hangar bays, taking routes that kept them away from the paths to the reactor... and thus hopefully avoiding the oncoming Ashlan reinforcements. Before they left, the Kitiakira warriors blasted and hacked everything in the atmosphere control station. That would greatly slow down any efforts to purge the gas from the gunnery section, keeping it from being easily vented. It might even render the section unsalvageable until the ship got to drydock and could undergo maintenance.

That was if they were lucky, though. She wouldn't count on it.

Quickly the warband fell back, covering their tracks with traps; if the Ashlan reinforcements wanted to chase them, let them do it through narrow corridors booby-trapped with armed radiation grenades. It'd be fun to watch the enemy's teeth and hair fall out, and their organs fail, when the crusader marines finally caught up with them. Ziraev made a beeline for the boarding pod her warband had come from, ready to withdraw, since there was no chance her outnumbered force could take the ship. But then she began to get new readings, new Mawite signals incoming: a mass of shuttles and escape pods.

The boarder-captain grinned. "Change of plans. Make for the hangars."

The warband sped off, heading for the hangar bays, fighting through whatever opposition they encountered. If they could help secure the hangars, they could provide a beachhead for the marooned crew of the Sanguine Cruor. It might still not be enough to take this huge ship, but if they could seize a section of it and defend that section, they could greatly disrupt the operations of the Purpose. They might even be able to sally forth and disable more of its weapons, further clearing the skies for their brethren. Lightning cannons and electro-axes at the ready, they began to fight their way toward that goal...

Spoiler: Fleet Composition / Actions

Fatalis, a Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought	Heavy Damage, Withdrawing, Firing on all blocking ships
Crimson Offering, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Destroyed
Severing Blade, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Shields Depleted, Firing on the remaining Templar
Sanguine Cruor, a Crucifix I-class Destroyer	Critical Damage, Firing on the remaining Templar
Vile Nativity, a Samael-class Frigate	Shields Depleted, Firing on the Rapture
Ember of Sin, a Samael-class Frigate	Shields Depleted, Firing on the Rapture
Opened Vein, a Samael-class Frigate	Destroyed
Wretched Fate, a Samael-class Frigate	Destroyed
Hollow Heart, a Samael-class Frigate	Destroyed

 

[Brimstone]

Location: half buried pyramid in southern desert

Brimstone and his men had been hard at work during the battle, he had been sent on a collection run it seemed. To some obscure pyramid in the southern hemisphere of the planet. He couldn't understand why he wasn't on the front lines, but not every mission was going to be combat he supposed. He looked at his loyal Hades commandos.

This place was hellish, the winds whipped up sand into twisters that would tear at the dead grass, red lighting streaked through the sky periodically and the sense of brooding was palpable, even for someone with no force sensitivity.

"Men! Get that door open" he shouted. His orders said that this was the location of some hidden cache that the admiral was very interested in, who knew what he would find, he didn't really care.

There was a crack as the stone pillar broken in half,it had taken hours of blasting with the engines of his Punisher-4 to clear a dozen metres of sand away and now he stood on front oh his quarry.

He stepped inside, flanked by the commandos, eerie red light bathed the room from outside but otherwise it was black in here, maybe nobody had been in here for thousands of years, it looked like even the withdrawing Sith had missed this place when they picked temples clean.

He stepped further and further inside, the passageway dropped at around a 30° angle, his team all had their torches on and progressed carefully deeper into the core of the pyramid until finally they reached the base. In front of him as an ancient sarcophagus with worn designs on the front of it. The symbols meant nothing to him, but he took images of it to return to the surface.

"Sir, I think this is what we came for" two of the Hades commandos carried a metal chest, its locking mechanism rusted after centuries forgotten. "OK lads, let's get this back up to the surface, this place feels foul"

​

 

[Thalia Senn]

Allies: Zark San Tekka Kirie Sergeant Omen
Enemies: Darth Carnifex KV-6000

Strong Alone, Stronger Together
​

"Yes sir!" came the all too eager response of Thalia in reply to her master's orders. She nodded to a few troopers and started off down the hall but stopped when Kirie began to try and take control of the mission. The reactor? There was so much that could go wrong with a reactor. The bridge was the obvious choice so why was Kirie hesitating? She thought about opening herself up to the Force again and feeling her out but she didn't need to. A moment later Kierie was leaving her feelings out in the open. Sympathy flashed in Thalia's eyes before she sighed in feigned annoyance.

Thalia clapped a leather-clad glove on the older Jedi's shoulder and gripped hard. Their eyes met, a serious look of determination glinted in the younger padawan's eyes.

"You'll be fine. We'll get through this. The Force is with us today, I can feel it," she lied. Earlier it felt as if the Force was trying to drown her and break her like a winter storm on the high seas of Pamarthe. "We'll go to the reactor, but stay behind me. Protect yourself first. You're our best chance at shutting down the reactor. I'll handle the rest." If there was one thing besides flying that Thalia was confident in, it was her lightsaber work. She gave Kirie one last tight shoulder squeeze and then turned around, pulling her second lightsaber from its hilt and activating its green blade.

The twins hummed in her hands as she led the charge through the Eternal Rule. She did everything in her power to keep herself and her companions safe as they tromped through the hall after all and faced obstacle after obstacle. It had all become a blur to her. There were minor injuries, and by the time the pair reached a pair of thick metal doors the white armor of the marines they had been traveling with was pockmarked with scorch marks from barely missed blaster bolts or blows that had been softened by the sturdy armor. At some point during their travel, Thalia had mated the two lightsabers to form her green saberstaff. She was huffing and puffing now, fatigue plain on her face and sweat dripping down her soot smudged brow.

Even without touching the Force, she could feel the wrongness of the two kneeling forms. One of the troopers raised his blaster to fire but Thalia raised a hand, stopping him. When the Sith, because what else could they be, turned around and revealed themselves she heard one of the troopers gag. She flinched when the two blades ignited simultaneously and they began to speak.

She didn't have time to utter a quip back, for the twin Sith hunters were on them immediately. She cursed loudly and thrust a hand behind her, shoving the troopers back. For a moment she fought both, parrying and striking at once with her double-bladed lightsaber but it wasn't long before they sensed the second, and one peeled for her instead, leaving Thalia with a single opponent.

Her chest heaved with each breath as she looked at the creature defiantly.

"You know," she started between pants as she stared down a twisted and angry version of Kirie, "I always thought Kirie was pretty," Pant. "But in a simple way." Huff. "If you can't even mimick that right you can't be very bright." She twisted her core and brought the back end of her blade onto the abomination. Their blades crackled as the beast countered.