[ENDGAME] - Shadow's Fall

[Malok]

Objective: Locate Aryn Teth
Accompanying: [member="Srina Talon"]
Allies: Galactic Alliance, Confederacy | [member="Darth Tacitus"], [member="Adron Malvern"]
Equipment: Armor, Lightsabre

He had heard the stories.

So long ago, the One Sith Empire began its reign on Coruscant. In but the span of a few, mere moments, the heart of the Galactic Republic was torn out. Fire burned through the streets. A cacophany of dying screams and blasterfire filled the air. But back then, there was a greater purpose to the annihilation. Conquest. The One Sith did not seek to reduce the center of democracy to complete ash, but rather to rebuild it into a fitting capital.

Today, there was no purpose. Save destruction.

Darth Metus had heard the reports about Thyferra - about the absolute carnage unleashed upon the Alliance world. But as he stood beside his Apprentice, bearing witness to the Sith Empire's wrath...he was left with the impression that Thyferra was but the appetizer. This was what they wanted. To break the Alliance. To assert the dominance of Darkness across the Galaxy once more.

For but a few moments, the Vicelord looked upon the inferno with his naked eyes. And whilst he stared, he could feel the whispers of his Apprentice echo through the Force. She called for the reason they had come - for her dear friend [member="Aryn Teth"] who was somewhere among the pyre. He did not know if the man lived...but for Srina's sake, he hoped that he did.

I'll be careful, Master.

The Echani spoke true. This world was lost. This city was lost. All that they could do at this point was attempt to liberate as many as they could from death's door. Darth Metus grunted, not affirming or denying her words, and replaced his helm. A simple blink moved the latest notifications to the side, allowing him to see the battleground clearly. Yet, before he could move, she had jumped.

And he followed suit. His boots thundered upon the ruined platform below. "Srina." he said. He knew what she was feeling all too well. How she felt about her friend - the near panic of not knowing his fate - was exactly how the Vicelord felt on Melida/Daan. When Srina's whereabouts were unknown, he gladly dived into the mouth of a plague-infested city to find her. Caution was thrown to the wind. One of them had to be the voice of reason.

"We go together. Our forces will save who they can - we'll find him."

 

[Onrai]

[member="Darth Sabezt"] [member="Alexandra Feanor"]

"Sure. But you have no idea what you're dealing with. We haven't had a multi-decade rivalry going on for no reason." She said, literally taking a step to the side as she watched Alex go completely insane. "This was the reason I was hoping to deal with her, but alas..." Vanessa sighed, focusing on Alex and attempting to Force Push her into the nearest wall while her attention was directed to Vereshin.

"I've been waiting for twenty years to get an opportunity to deal with you, the traitor to the Sith cause." Vanessa popped her knuckles. "Now are we going to fight, or are insults the only thing you can do nowadays?"

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

[-SOUNDTRACK-]​

Allies: Galactic Alliance (sort of), Confederacy of Independent Systems​

Enemies: The Sith Empire​

Objectives: Acquire Holocrons | Convert Jedi to the Darkside​

Gear: Wither (Sith Sword) | The Triad (Lightsabers) | Shrouded Blade (Lightsaber) | Obsidian Strike Armor​

Troops: 5 Undead​

Attn: [member="Vanessa Vantai"] | [member="Darth Sabezt"] | [member="Adrian Vandiir"] | [member="Nylea Apollodor"] Duelling: [member="Darth Sabezt"] Allies: [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Rylan Kordel"] | [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Jairdain"] | [member="Mereel Vaun"]​

​

• Archives
  Jedi Temple on Coruscant

Tacitus had about as much as he could endure from the pitiful Jedi's pathetic ramblings about right and wrong. "I am here to defend the Galactic Alliance, not the Jedi Order or its derranged delusions about the Lightside of the Force. You Jedi simply happen to be on the same side I am," he said, the claws on his free hand twitching. "I will do whatever is necessary to accomplish the mission. Like these soldiers did, before they died. Like they are doing now, after I gave them the chance to once again serve their nation. But what would you know about necessary sacrifices, you're just a pathetic Jedi worm."

"This is the only warning I am going to give, you insolent little brat. If you ever try to impede my mission again, I will treat you as a mutineer and I will kill you where you stand. It will not be a quick death, for I can not stand traitors and mutineers," he said, turning away from her, only to hear a voice he had not heard in close to three years. "Jairdain," he said in a cold voice, pausing for a moment before continuing. "The name is Darth Tacitus, now," was all that he said to her before turning his attention to one who's actions were endangering Tacitus' own plans and objectives.

The Overlord turned to face Vereshin, observing his toying with Jairdain and her Jedi companion. He took a step forward, summoning the cold currents of the Darkside to him, which began to swirl around him like a maelstrom, gathering power and casting out a beacon of darkness, forming another large, black stain upon the already marred light of the Temple, one which all of the assembled Force sensitives, Jedi and Sith alike, would be able to sense. He reached within, pouring his hatred and anger into it and drew upon that darkness in a way that had become second nature to him.

His dark laughter filled the chamber as he approached his foe, sword drawn and lightsabers dancing dangerously around him. "You pathetic little worm," Tacitus called out, sending tendrils of darkness to reach out towards Vereshin. The tendrils swiftly became a torrent of fear and horror as the Overlord's cold, iron will sought to overpower Vereshin's mind by awakening his nightmares and turning his own fears against him. The undead minions shambled forward, barking like mad dogs, awaiting their master's command to kill and maim. "The knowledge within this place is mine. These Jedi are mine and if I let you kill them, it would cut me off from answers that I seek. That means you're in my way," he spoke in a cold, vicious voice that announced the violence which he was about to unleash.

He circled his opponent, like a Loth wolf about to tear his prey apart, the long, black talons on his hands glimmering dangerously with reflected crimson light from the lightsabers which danced around him like deadly birds of prey. The currents of the Darkside rippled around him, sending echoes through the Force as he gathered the power to unleash one of his signature techniques, the deadly Sith art known as Darkshear, which had become almost like an extension of him.

What was about to unfold, was a reenactment of an ancient way that had been part of the traditions of the Darkside's true practitioners since time immemorial. Two rival Sith, locked in combat until one emerged the victor and the other lay dead at his foe's feet, true strength prevailing over weakness in a deadly contest of natural selection, the ultimate expression of life's oldest rule: survival of the fittest.

​

 

[Mereel Vaun]

Location: Archive Room, near South Entrance
Equipment: Armor (in sig), Modified DL-18
Composition: Coyote, Werewolf, WildDog, Slicer, Rifleman (Incapacitated)
Allies: GA and co. | Nearby Allies: [member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Alexandra Feanor"] [member="Jairdain"] [member="Veino Garn"]
Enemies: [member="Tathra Khaeus"] , Promethean Guard | Sith and Dark Jedi
Objective: Get the Feth Out
--

A violent shudder welcomed Mereel back into consciousness.

Get up.

He felt pain searing through each and every fiber of his being as his eyes opened. The detonator explosion had scorched his left arm, rendering it an inert stump before the monster had even bothered tearing the upper part of the limb off of him, and the beast's handling of him had left him. Under the shattered visor of his helmet, he was breathing in short gasps for air. Each breath heralded in an acute, sharp pain in his chest.

But more importantly, he felt more alive now than he had felt in years - the thrill of discovering that he was still alive outweighed all other emotions he currently felt in himself and in the force.

His elation was broken when he heard the mercenary squad engaging with the demon's escort. They're still fighting. What's your excuse softie?

Adrenaline, pain, and resolve to keep the behemoth busy flowed through his veins. He pulled a stimpak from his belt and injected it into his exposed arm stump for good measure.


He reached for his blaster pistol - which had been lodged into a shattered fragment of the databank's transparisteel that he was collapsed on - and pried the gun out with his remaining arm, keeping it drawn and at the ready. He noticed that Feanor's saber had gone missing from his belt but he paid it no mind, he just had to worry about keeping the Behemoth busy.

As Mereel forced himself to his feet and aimed his pistol at the Behemoth, he saw the mercenary gunner kick the ax-wielding guard in the face as his weapon was grabbed. As the ax's momentum caused the blade to swing once again towards him, the gunner released the hold of his weapon and used his two feet which were already planted on the guard's face to launch himself just slightly over the arc of the Sith trooper's blade. As the werewolf gunner landed on the floor a few feet away from his adversary, the Jedi Temple quaked once more.

Oh fierfek, did they start bombing the place with their own men still inside?

Mereel changed his target to the ax-weilding escort and quickly fired five rounds meant to suppress the target, he felt the floor shaking again as he pulled back the hair-trigger for the fifth round. "That's our queue! Fall back to our entry point!"

"That's the first smart thing you've said all day." Mereel looked to the source of the voice, and saw that the grenadier was pointing a grenade launcher at a knocked down guard with one hand, and dragging the rifleman toward their exit with the other.

Mereel knew that the detonator blast had likely left his jetpack either completely fried, or close to going critical. Using it to get to the grenadier would likely be suicide. "I'll be right there to carry him! Cover me."

He began running toward the grenadier and the rifleman's position, using the force to bring his weary run to the speed of a normal unencumbered human's sprint.

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

Objective: Sow Chaos within the Halls of Healing before moving towards the Archives.
Location: Halls of Healing​

Nearby: N/A.​

Allies: Sith and allies​

Enemies: Jedi and allies.​

​

​

​

When Xevek had been a kep, a child unproven and not yet hardened to survive the harsh existence of living among the desert plains of Iridonia, anger and rage had flourished within him throughout his training. No matter how many times he was scolded, no matter how many times he was punished for not showing proper respect to his Masters and Teachers, he had clung tightly to those emotions in a display of arrogance and defiance.

He had seen himself as being better, as being more wise when, in truth, he knew nothing. That attitude had been killed after his first hunt, a journey where he had learnt to temper his anger, to direct it when needed and to restrain it while hunting lest it turn against him and author mistakes and disasters. On that day he had learnt a simple lesson: hunt with caution, anticipation and with a focussed mind, no other emotion.

Even when his Clan had been decimated, even when had left Iridonia to find a new place within the Galaxy under the banner Sith Empire and had been inducted into the Sith Assassins, he did his best to not forget the lesson he had so painfully learnt on that day. Blood had been shed, scares earned and a story engraved upon his body in the form of a Jat’i - all of them learnt themselves to ensuring that the memory never faded. As such, when it came to an Assassination under the contract of the Sith Assassins, he did not seek his prey as an Assassin but as a Hunter. He was careful, methodological and focussed on his goal above his own desires. In the past, these factors had served him well and now they served him well once more.

Even as the shouts and screams and echoes of the clash between Dark and Light reached his ears within the Halls of Healing he did not rush. He paid little mind to the influx of wounded that were being flooded into the Halls, the press of bodies growing heavier and heavier as the scents worry and death began to permeate the air. What had initially been a place of quiet and professional diligence had become, instead, a place where voices shouted to be heard above each other and the cries of pain from patients who were suffering from wounds inflicted upon their bodies and, sometimes, the wounds inflicted upon their minds as Healers specialising in mentalism rushed to counter the illusions and terror skilled practitioners of the Dark had trapped unfortunate Jedi within. And, among it all, he passed silent and without worry, resolve burning in his eye.

With every step he walked, Xevek disappeared further and further into the Force until the effect began to bleed over into the physical world. Whereas the crush of bodies around him worsened as he prowled deeper into the depths of the Halls, Healers rushing into one another by accident as they rushed about to both ensure the continued living of their patients and prepped many a patient for excavation, the figure of Xevek cloaked in Jedi robes seemed to almost part the crowds before him. It wasn’t due to any sort of respect being directed towards him but, instead, a enhanced effect of what Xevek’s manipulations within the Force had earlier achieved.

Over the course of his study into the Force and the different ways in which it would be shaped and twisted depending on which individual was enacting their will at the time, even if they were performing the exact same task of others, Xevek had come to the conclusion that an individual's personality and beliefs instinctively enhanced certain effects within the Force as the metaphysical Force would respond and shape itself in accordance to that individual. If, for example, an individual displayed sadistic tendencies pain would be tied within their manipulation of the Force, triggering greater suffering in a subject when they conjured forth lightning from their hate and desire to inflict suffering than if an individual that drew upon hate alone, and did not display sadistic tendencies, were to attack the subject in the same way.

In the current moment, this conclusion of the Iridonian’s was being enacted and it was that that was creating the effect around him. However, rather than him possessing sadistic tendencies and increasing pain, he felt dissonance with reality and so he could separate himself easier and to a more impressive effect. Whether the effect was from his conclusion being true or him assuming it to be true and the Force responding to his belief, Xevek could not say. But, nonetheless, the effects could not be ignored.

Before it had started off as the eyes of those with a weak will sliding right past him without seeing him, him having adopted the mask of nothingness so much that it became true to those without the strength to see through the mask, he had been focused on enhancing the effect as he had walked, even as he left poisoned corpses in his wake. Now though, the nothingness, of empty space, that he had adopted had become so intertwined in the Force around him the minds of those with a connection to the Force were perceiving where he was walking as simply not existing, not just devoid of life but not there.

This was Xevek’s strength, why he had been named the Shadow.

With time, with patience and the focus born from the iron will taught to him on his first hunt, Xevek could become less than a shadow, less than a ghost. Against Masters, his strength could be unraveled if it was unraveled soon enough, but, with the distraction of the attack, with the pause he had taken after his first kill and the chaos of his subsequent ones, no one had thought to look for him and so, now, they could not.

Of course, Xevek’s strength did not come without drawbacks. One of which exhibiting itself as he turned a corner, eye still flickering from face to face seeking the Mirialan that was his primary target. For a moment, should anyone have been able to see him, they would bear witness to his entire form stiffening, his muscles tensing sharply as veins along his neck seemed to suddenly look to burst out through his skin and a choked moan of pain emerged as low guttural sounds that were, ultimately, lost beneath the chaos around him. He was only frozen in place, looking as if his entire body had been wrapped in unbreakable chains, before he slumped against the wall to his left, panting heavily, strands of ashen grey hair sticking to his sweat-shined forehead.

With a shaking hand, Xevek wiped under his nose where a warm wetness had formed, his fingers coming away crimson as drops of blood ran down, over his lips, before being caught on his tongue to prevent them from falling to the ground.

 

[Bo Lin]

The large Pandyn leapt into action as he neared the Je'daii Journeyer. The shard in his greatsaber screamed in the force as he activated the power switch. He drew deeply on the shard's pain and anger as he closed on the blue eyed Je'daii.

The man turned, as he felt the shards pain filled scream, and activated his lightsaber's yellow blade. Bo moved quickly into the familiar Djem So stance and prepared to pound the small pink man thing into charred paste. His crimson blade swept high and came down like an avalanche at the little man. The Je'daii's blade came up parallel to the ground over his head as Bo's blade came down in a hissing arc.

The Je'daii's feet shifted with supernatural speed and Bo felt the force grip him and pull him forward in line with his momentum. He stumbled as a yellow light flashed toward him. Then darkness.

The Je'daii watched for a moment as the huge being lay on the cracked duracrete of a random street. His bright blue eyes carried a sadness that could only be felt by those that had been forced to take a life.

"Such a waste." He said as he turned to move civilians to safety from the Sith attack.

 

[Krorg]

Location: Atmosphere
Ojective: Evacuate the people what wants to go.

It didn't look good. Their was lots of people running and yelling and doing stuff. Not good stuff, really. Most of it looked like pretty violent stuff. He looked around the ship and turned on the scanners.

He opened his comms as well and hoped against hope no one decided his ginormous ship needed to be exploded anytime in the next...ever. The ship made its slow way through the sky and looked for a likely place to pick up passengers.

"Hey, man." He said through the comms, "Anyone need a ride?"

He waited for an answer, but he didn't hand out many pamphlets for evacuation so he didn't know if anyone would show up.

 

[Quvox]

Quvox​

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Hangar, Jedi Temple​

With: [member="Jace Khel"] and [member="Romi Jade"]​

Objective: Survive [member="Darth Imperia"]​

Enemies: [member="Tsisaar Taral"] | [member="Vili Ozouf"] |​

​

Right. New plan.

As Quvox looked towards Imperia's rather graceful landing, he realized that he wasn't going to be able to match the Sith Lord here in any way, shape, or form. He kept trying to do what a Jedi would do, but maybe he shouldn't be. After all, he wasn't a Jedi yet, right? He didn't have any practice at it, or the power to bring out some kind of great and hidden potential. He wasn't a chosen one, probably wasn't anything close to a prodigy. That would have been great right now, to be oozing with natural talent that overwhelmed an enemy. Instead, he was stuck with...this.

Quvox almost immediately realized what Imperia was doing, and so many thoughts ran through his head. Should he just pull the mask's filter off, showing that he doesn't actually need it? Pull off the whole mask? Or...maybe appeal to her ego. The Jedi didn't really like deceit, but it could work, and playing dead or faking injury was something he had years of constant practice at, being one of the few ways he was able to avoid deadly and lethal predators that stalked Uba IV. Thankfully, it wasn't that very world, and the air here was so thick and clear, even with all the Star Destroyers in the way. Most Ubese would fall prey to this quickly and would be in a pretty dead situation for real - his family had always been different, always weird. Perhaps this was the only time it was useful.

The Ubese seemed to stop dead for a second as she crushed the breathing apparatus on the front of his mask, causing him to fall on his knees, his lightsaber deactivating as the hilt pressed against the ground, being in the hand he was using to try and prop himself up, apparently. He coughed and spluttered, heaving as he tried his damnedest to get his breath back, even practiced in faking the panic and squirming of one gasping for air. He'd had his mask pulled off when not on the homeworld before, so he had some experience with this. He wasn't sure if she was the type to just come over and kill him or to wait until she thought he passed out. He'd find out soon enough.

Why couldn't Jace be fighting this one?

 

[Varik Ice]

Minorous Traske​

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Location: Jedi Temple​

Engaging: [member="Koda Fett"]​

​

As Traske went to poke, Fett raised his legs. Sensing where this was going, Traske prepared himself, keeping the knife in all the while and readying his other hand. As Koda kicked his legs out, Minorous brought the less useful arm around, wrapping it around Koda's foot while he held on for dear life, wrapping a leg around up at Koda's thigh, as well. It wasn't the most graceful solution, but it was that, a solution. As he was pulled, so was his knife hand. This was not going to be pretty.

The knife ripped and tore through flesh, being yanked down wtih great force before Traske eventually pulled it out so he could keep ahold of it. He tightened the grip his leg and arm had on Fett's leg to twist around into a twisting hold designed to eventually break knees; more importantly though, it was to force Koda's body sideways, only letting one arm properly reach Traske as he stayed in this awkward position. He glanced at what was left of his HUD. Shield was still recharging, but it would be there soon.

As he twisted, Traske brought the knife down, this time moving it low to try and keep it out of Koda's reach, still covered in his blood and thrusted it towards his leg. He aimed for the kneecap, or rather, just beneath it, hoping to turn and twist while he sent that electrical current streaming through, and perhaps eventually pop the kneecap right off with the force he applied. It didn't take that much for a human's, in his experience, and damage like that wasn't permanent like it used to be. Wonders of medical science.

 

[Shade of Decay]

Location: Somewhere near the archives
Allies: [member="Vili Ozouf"] [member="Darth Imperia"]
Enemies: [member="Jace Khel"] [member="Quvox"] [member="Romi Jade"]

Tsisaar was moderately impressed with how quickly Jace spun about and caught his blade; almost against his own good sense he pressed against the Padawan's parry, though when he felt the pressure on his own blade shift he was only narrowly able to jump back as Jace's blade flicked towards his face, clashing lightly against the pale blade Tsisaar wielded. The pass was over and ended, and the pair found themselves right back at the beginning of the engagement. Tsisaar's amusement with it all was nearly enough to distract him from the cracks appearing in the ceiling overhead, or the cries from Jace's master below.

Curiously, however, while he did notice them, he chose to ignore them entirely.

"I suppose I never have been good with a blade," he said somewhat ruefully to the stoically silent Jace. "I've always been better with a good conversation, or studying a book, or using the Force." The Sith acolyte held his lightsaber out before him, almost in a gesture of challenge. The blade itself seemed to flicker yellow momentarily before Tsisaar extinguished it, as his concentration took hold of something else within it. "But, since you refuse to partake in the first, and I'm a bit preoccupied for the second, I suppose we'll have to take the third option, don't you?" As he spoke, Tsisaar's huleppi twitched and curled with anticipation at what was to come.

Beneath them, Tsisaar smiled, and with a single muttered command, he released his focused will on the single, small crystal he had recently nestled within his lightsaber. For a short moment, the movements of the world around seemed to stop as Tsisaar felt his own awareness get drawn into the shard of a holocron. Then the energies focused themselves through the crystal, before leaping out into the mind of Jace Khel, and rebounding against the chuckling Tsisaar.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"], [member="Saphir Steele"]

Phrik armour, lightsabre (both in sig), boltgun, sonic carbine, sidearm


Serendipity was at work. mayhaps. Abruptly one of the large Sithspawn abominations was pulled into the air by an invisible hand. At first its thick carapace sustained the bolter rounds, then it was blown into chunky bits. Elpsis seemed to have missed her true target, though on the flip side she'd gained some information on her. Out of the corner of her sight, she saw that another woman appeared to be engaging the monstrosities. An ally, perhaps? Elpsis could not process this further, as her focus remained in the armoured Sith woman.


The Sith had taken off, trying to use one of the dropships as cover. But Elpsis' milky eyes followed her. Force Sight had its share of inconveniences, but one of its advantages was that many objects appeared translucent. Long story cut short, Elpsis could see through obstructions such as walls. Furthermore, hiding was actually an ill-advised move because it would contain the explosion. Bolters loved hitting enclosed spaces, like behind a dropship.


Precognition whispered in Elpsis' mind, and she squeezed the trigger of her boltgun, bombarding the Sith with 30mm x 45mm explosive bolts. Particle beams shot forth from the muzzle of the Sith's pistol as she peeked out. Thing was, Elpsis was in cover - first floor window of a building, lying on the floor - and a rifle beat a sidearm in terms of range. Particle beam shots splashed against the permacrete and burst what was left of the broken window. Some of the glass kissed Elpsis' phrik armour, but could not get past it.

 

[Koda Fett]

​

The knife that was previously imbedded his flesh departed the hole it had created, the electric shock fading away for that extra moment. Continuing to soar through the air in the moment. The persisting colourful ball of armour continued to flail at random. The flames of the jetpack still burning bright beneath his legs, obscuring whatever was to be below there.

​Traske shifted his position, providing the Bounty Hunter with more freedom and visibility. Although, that didn't mean the attack on Fett ended, not at all. The knife in his hand thrust forwards, but it didn't strike true- instead, Traske would find it clashing with the plates beneath his flight suit, thin but strong enough. A metal ding is all that came of it. All the while the Mandalorian took note of their positioning. Dropping from the air as he cut his use of the jetpack, falling a mere five metres onto what seemed to be the head of Traske. Unless he let go, performing a trick of his own.

Nevertheless, the grip was to be shaken off. Either as Traske crashed into the ground, or Fett freed his leg. A burst fired from his jetpack, thrusting him forwards and away from the Mercenary as the two remained on the bottom floor now in the crumbling rings. Fett's left hand snatched at his Carbine, firing crimson bolts with trained proficiency in addition to the added bonus granted from the HUD. Meanwhile, the weakened right arm of the Bounty Hunter grasped at the right side of his leg, squeezing upon something.

This may just be the most damaged Fett had been in a long, long time.

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Allies: The Sith Empire

Adversaries: [member="Minorous Traske"]

 

[Jic Drow]

Location: Atmosphere
Objective: Pick up survivors

Xek was the one who always flew around with Krorg. The pair were tending to take odd jobs and end up where things really work taking a turn for the south. Looking out on the viewport, the insect could see the damage even from here. Pointing an arm-sword there was a big area of low lying buildings outside the damaged section of town. Would be a good place to take the ship in for a landing.

People were running scared, ships were flying in orbit taking shots at one another. There were blasters and… Xek thought lightsabers, being swung on the planet. This was not good. The chatter the pair would be hearing? That made it even worse. The Alliance was undergoing a coup, and there were countless lives caught in the middle of it.

Pointing again, Xek attempted to make a chittering sound.

This was not good.

[member="Krorg"]

 

[Varik Ice]

Minorous Traske​

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Location: Jedi Temple​

Engaging: [member="Koda Fett"]​

​

He would need to get a refund on this knife.

Traske didn't waste any time, simply tossing the knife as he glanced around for a moment, realizing what kind of situation he was in. They were descending, fast, and he wasn't interested in making introductions with the ground. He kept focusing the force on his body, using the strength of his legs to yank himself as his right hand reached behind him, seemingly in a motion that was incredibly fast to the naked eye. He was now closer to Fett's upper back and head than his feet, bringing the shotgun that he drew around to the front and only having moments to aim it.

With the specialized ammunition he had, Traske decided not to risk himself and fired at almost point-blank rage with the powerful shotgun towards Fett's other leg, unaware of his hand or his other equipment. He knew the Mandalorian was fast, but some things were damn near-impossible, and the sheer recoil of the shotgun with his special ammunition as he unwrapped his legs sent him flying a decent distance, sending him hurtling onto the top of and then over a collapsed pillar, breaking sight lines with the dangerous hunter.

He had some cover now, but still had to come up with a plan of what to do next. Traske had been in bad situations before, but this was a new limit entirely. His face was bleeding, one of his arms was still in immense pain and the armour around his abdomen was just about perforated. His HUD was still mostly running, but he had to be careful. The stealth generator was fine, and his shields were just about reaching 100% again after the Crushgaunt had forced its way through. He would make sure he never forgot this one, should he make it out. If he did, he just deserved to get killed later.

 

[Koda Fett]

​

As the Mandalorian began to descend towards the ground he cast a glance at his feet, and more importantly, towards Traske who still clung to his leg as an animal would cling to it's mother. Although, Koda was no parent, and if this is how he was to treat his young then he'd be in dire need of an intervention. That much you can be sure of. It was as if time slowed for him, but even then he couldn't quite comprehend the speed Traske was soon to move at. The sounds of combat echoed around him, a natural arena for a man created with the sole intention to kill those who stood in his way.

Fett's left leg - the free one - moved to kick Minorous off of his feet before the enhanced movement was made. It moved out behind him, placing itself in a position that Traske certainly wasn't prepared for, even if had only deviated slightly. As the force sensitive made his seemingly unnatural movement, the gun was brought up and put forth in Koda's direction, but the attempted attack from Fett's leg had accidentally prevented the shotgun from reaching it's target, and as the trigger was pulled it damn near blew his nuts off. He was awfully lucky in certain scenarios. That one chance was over, and they hit the ground with speed.

Cut to the standoff where Koda stood with one hand one his Carbine and the other on his hip. He continued to suppress his foe whilst etching his way into cover of his own, even sending forth one of the same 'Aloysha' wrist missiles from before with the intention of luring Traske from his cover, or killing him outright. The latter was preferable, of course.

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Allies: The Sith Empire

Adversaries: [member="Minorous Traske"]

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

Locale: Jedi Archives
​Allies: N/A
​Theme
​Enemies: Current - [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Alexandra Feanor"] | [member="Vulpesen"] | [member="Darth Sabezt"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"]
​Potential Enemies - [member="Xevek Rakama"] | [member="Darth Imperia"] | [member="Vili Ozouf"] | [member="Adrian Vandiir"] | [member="Romi Jade"] | [member="Veino Garn"] | [member="Darth Tacitus"] | [member="Mereel Vaun"]

​The mutant behemoth stopped in his tracks toward the crushed shelves at Mereel now staggered from as a single projectile entered his back, pushing through both the magnetic shielding of his armour and the ceramic plating underneath, however with not nearly enough momentum to pass through his entire body. The bullet became lodged, ripping through his insides as Tathra growled, turning his head to face the Gunner as magma boiled in his lungs.

​Only as he turned, three blaster bolts caught the edge of his form; however they had far less impact than the Sniper shot had. Tathra roared in frustration like a trapped animal, releasing a wave of telekinetic energy in a circle around himself; destroying pillars and intending to throw both Mereel and the Sniper backward and crush their organs with said kinetic force.

​The behemoth had no time to see the result as a large shard of ceiling collapsed on him, sending him to his knees. Tathra growled, his form shaking as he bit and punched ferociously, shattering the parts of the roofing that had fallen on him into pieces, and knocking them across the archive floor. Tathra activated his com earpiece, taking note that each of his Promethean Guards were still active.

​Once more, proving their worth. He was glad he had them with him. He was otherwise, entirely utterly alone. Tathra was tense, alive. Ready for more. He'd crush some more on his way out.

​"Prometheans, do you have it?"

Tathra struggled a little further as he stood tall once more, ​"We have the information Khaeus." ​Came Neviere's voice, giving Tathra some relief; at least it had all not been for nought. ​"Good. I've been separated from you by a collapse. Retreat from the way we came. I'll punch my way out." ​There was a moment of silence as the Matriarch of the Dravalan deliberated, likely weighing which was worse, leaving him behind or disobeying his order. ​"We will wait for you." ​Tathra needed not reply, he cut his communications, and moved forward.

​Ahead and through an archway was a large mix of both Sith and Jedi. Including, Kainan Wolfe. It appeared to him that the two parties were doing little more than bicker.

​Tathra took Oribuir from his back, activating the thrusters on his armour as he thundered towards the enemy. Weapon in hand, his blade, aimed directly at the white haired Jedi and three identical Sith behind her.

 

[Varik Ice]

Minorous Traske​

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Location: Jedi Temple​

Engaging: [member="Koda Fett"]​

​

Seemed they were approaching an endgame now.

Fett was laying down suppressive fire, but Traske wasn't concerned; if Koda wanted to approach he'd have gone over the cover, since his jetpack was somehow still working, or at least had been. He used the time to put the COFF away, once again taking out his carbine. He oppened the underbarrel attachment, emptying out the cartridge as he shoved another in, getting it ready. He could sense where Fett was, and as he saw the shields go back up to 100% on the HUD he still had going, he knew he could get back into this. He wasn't going to run off - he was too stubborn for that.

He readied a thermal detonator, throwing it over and in Fett's direction. He began to rush out from cover after he did so, barely avoiding the Aloysha missile's blast radius and the phosphorous that kicked up after it, covering the pillar he had previously been using. His carbine was already raised and ready as he moved into the open, preparing for Fett to have a barrage waiting for him, or something to use. It was the intent of the thermal detonator - so Koda had to move first, rather than having that immediate fire on him. Regardless, he was prepared. He had to be.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Location: High Council Chambers
Allies: [member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="Taeli Raaf"]
Enemies: [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Mishel Noren"], [member="Cotan Sar'andor"]
Gear:

• Neo-Imperator Sith Armor
• ​Asmenys iv Tave Gimtihttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/120169-asmenys-iv-tave-gimti-blades-of-the-fallen/#entry1683581http://starwarsrp.net/topic/120169-asmenys-iv-tave-gimti-blades-of-the-fallen/#entry1683581

Suddenly everything changed.

​The floor under the council chamber buckled sending the group crashing down into a free fall. But even in the middle of this storm raging around them much like his one time enemy Darth Vitium he became the eye of the storm. A true Sith learned to control everything from their emotions to the situation around him. He quickly switched to the fierce style of Juyo and hybridized it with the destructive Djem-So he lunged at Mishel while Coren and Cotan were split off by their attackers.

​Lady Raaf was ingenious in her move to cut off escape for the Jedi. They would not get to turn tail and run to leave this world to their fate. When the Sith Empire was done Coruscant would be a graveyard, a parking lot of the dead and dying. This so called center of the galaxy would burn for all to see. The Zambrano Lords made sure of it, and courtesy of the Supreme Commander the military had their express orders. Life was their target just like it was on Thyferra. Only difference is there was a list of allies who would be allowed to live. Those who sided with the Order of Shadows would be permitted to live.

As for the military legions they reached another checkpoint closing in on the Jedi Temple. The Blackblade Guard flooded over the barriers and right into the fray joining the Order of Shadows. But this time the battle was joined by one of Lady Raaf's most recent creations the Turia Siqsa led by Gorgannoth their beastial King. Fire streaked from his glaive melting the flesh off bone like water, the twisted Guzeijeij joining the battle turning it into a charnel pit. The commanding Jedi turned Sith by the Order sighed in relief after realizing the monster was aware of his change in allegiance.

He was grateful that he chose the right side.

 

[WelshPsych]

Location: Jedi Temple - Archives
Allies: GA, SJO, [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Jairdain"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] and anyone else nearby
Enemies: TSE, enemies of GA
Objectives: Secure safe transport offworld

The war on Coruscant had truly begun. It wasn't pretty, nor were the people taking part going to be heroes by the end of this. This war was going to be ugly, with lives lost and pain suffered. Yuroic drew his bow and shot several standard arrows, killing Sith troopers as he passed by. Reaching the Archives, Yuroic searched around as he grabbed some of the more important holocrons as he stored them in his bags. Gripping his bow tightly, Yuroic ducked and weaved, hearing the fire of loud combat not far from him. Breathing deeply, he looked around wondered if the other Jedi from the Silver Jedi Order had been able to escape the planet.

Coruscant seemed to have fallen. Was this the end of the Galactic Alliance?

Yuroic shook his head. This had been one loss, one terrible battle but he knew that the Galactic Alliance could recover, just like his family had recovered. This was a set back, they could win and they would push the First Order and the Sith back. Yuroic had to have faith, he had to believe that Coruscant could be saved once more. Perhaps, perhaps he only wanted to believe this so that he could feel the same. That he could be saved one day in the future. Reaching for a comms on his gauntlet, he opened a line to any other Jedi out there.

"Come in. This is Yuroic, I am with the Silver Jedi Order. Is there anyone left here? Does anyone need assistance?" Yuroic reached out as he kept an eye out for any trouble that end up heading his way.

 

[AMCO]

Location: Jedi Temple, Archives
Allies: Sneering Imperialists & [member="Darth Sabezt"]
Immediate Threats: [member="Sky'ito Yumi"] & [member="Jairdain"]
Equipment: Lightsaber, [2] Potion of Invisibility, [2] Blackroot Potion

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With a final flourish of his wrist, the spell was launched towards her. Before he had time to even see her reaction she responded reflexively, an incursion sliding past his defences and doing something. He was blinded, and yet not. He could see, but it was strange. Distorted. Oddly colourful. It reminded him of the few times he had used Force Sight, and yet it felt different.

Before he had the time to properly comprehend that development, he sensed a familiar presence, one he hadn't felt since their meeting on Dantooine. He had been decently polite, so he was surprised when she pulled her sword from its scabbard and turned her anger towards him. What in the name of the Emperor was that madwoman doing? As she leapt up to face him on the bookshelf, he felt the Jedi probing his mind. As Jairdain spoke into his mind and Sukai's blade began its lethal approach, he made the only choice he could. With grim resolve, he flung every ounce of energy he could muster into an attack aimed at his assailant, writhing tendrils of incandescent blue lightning leaping from his fingertips towards her.

Before he could even see how it would affect her, the other woman launched her attack, brushing past his mental defences with disturbing ease. Suddenly, it was as if he was no longer present. Instead, he was reliving his worst memories; from when he heard of the Sundering of Corellia as a young boy, to that fateful night on Nal Hutta. Clutching at his head, he toppled backwards, falling off the bookshelf and crashing into the floor beneath.

"No... no... no."

"I didn't mean to... I didn't want to..."

Muttering incoherently and only vaguely aware of the sharp pain of a piece of debris from the battle piercing his right leg, the young Acolyte writhed on the floor, completely unaware of the cacophany above him. Completely unaware of the massive damage wrought by the fateful duel taking place above the Archives.

Spoiler

Potential Distractions/Allies:

• [member="Xevek Rakama"], [member="Tsisaar Taral"], [member="Darth Imperia"], [member="Vili Ozouf"], [member="Vanessa Vantai"], et al.

Potential Obstacles/Enemies:

• [member="Jyoti Nooran"], [member="Tathra Khaeus"], [member="Allyson Locke"], [member="Asaraa Vaashe"], [member="Yuroic Xeraic"], [member="Jairdain"], [member="Tanaski Yumi"], [member="Romi Jade"], [member="Quvox"], [member="Jace Khel"], [member="Darth Tacitus"], et al.