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Beneath Exegol's Surface, Dark Spirits Stir
Objective: Awaken and Escape Annihilation Allies:Hekate Ignosi Opposition:Kat Decoria
Deep below Exegol's surface, in an underground cavern, lies the Midnight Ziggurat; a sleek black pyramid constructed of impervium, quadanium steel, and sarrassian iron thousands of years ago by legions of undead cultists. Here it has remained undisturbed for over six thousand years. Here interred in its heart rested the Lich Erebus Ignosi, self-proclaimed Magnus of a Sith thanatocracy.
For millennia the unliving, undying cultists of Magnus Ignosi have been tending to their master and his temple, sacrificing souls to feed his reconstitution. Grievously wounded during a moment of arrogance, he has been slowly regenerating from his phylactery, but as far as the greater galaxy has been concerned he perished thousands of years ago.
Until now.
Within the inner sanctum the ancient, profane bones of the Sith Lich stirred to unlife once more, uncrossing his arms from across his chest and levitated until he was upright. Erebus took a moment to look over his arms, the skin taut and dry but reformed, blackened nails like miniature talons. Good, very good.
The Lich then turned his focus outward, scouting out the area around his tomb and above ground with the Force, immediately noticing the intense combat happening in orbit and planetside. Where must a Lich rest to get a few thousand years of peace uninterrupted? At least, there was a pleasing amount of death and destruction occurring. That must be what awakened me. Good, I can draw on that to aid me here.
His thoughts were interrupted, however, when he sensed the presence of two beings within his tomb. One carried the stench of the light side, but the other....the other was faintly familiar to him. Curious indeed. He called his sarrassian iron voulge to his hand, then attempted to scry on the interlopers in his tomb. Perhaps he might get some entertainment.
"Ever had a thought of your own, then?" The young Jedi chided with snark, shoving forwards to break the lock between the two clashing weapons. The quick swivel of booted feet shuffled across the ashen, dirtied earth and swatted aside the incoming bolts once again. An outstretched hand gripped the blaster and pried it from his grasp. Corin was left with glancing stares, shifting back and forth. "Maybe it's time you think for yourselves. Your Empire, gone. You're here for a reason, and that reason isn't me."
Cynthia monitored the battle on the holo-display as she would any other battle in the past, her vessels simulated as green dots approached while the Imperial forces simulated as red dots engaged. It was a common sight to see Imperial forces bring out superior numbers, but battle after battle, war after war, Cyn found the X-Wing a rather reliable and sturdy workhorse for the Alliance. After a few minutes Cyn pressed a single finger against her lips, a curious expression flashed across her face as she looked into the battle reports being streamed across the screens.
“Interesting, those fighters are not TIE designed,” Cyn was a bit thoughtful for a moment before she returned back to a steely stare. “-Order the rest of the Patrol Ships to engage in this dog-fight. I want them to reach for top-speeds as they conduct their own evasive maneuvers from the larger ship’s fire.” The Comm Officer nodded and headed down to relay her orders.
The situation was certainly changing into one that she had not expected, the Final Dawn was a notoriously Imperial Copy of previous militaries. Their tactics, technology and philosophy hadn’t changed much since Cyn herself was an Imperial TIE Pilot. And I don’t expect any Imperial to change anytime soon. . . even after the heat death of the Universe. She kept herself watching as her Starbird-Class Patrol vessels roared into the battle. They weren’t here to engage with the entire Neo-Imperial battlegroup themselves, but to simply slow down the Imperial reinforcing effort. Why else bring so many transport ships?
“Oh,” Cyn watched her holo-display as several hundreds of new red dots were displayed and a ghost of a smirk tugged at the corners of Cyn’s lips. And here I thought I wouldn’t get to hear the screams of TIE across the battlefield today. Cyn sighed at the sheer number and wondered why they were dedicated here in this one location.
“Order a staggered retreat of our forces currently engaged. Maneuver all three of our FarStar Corellian Carriers into a forward position to provide overlapping shields and a flak bubble to protect our retreating vessels.” Cyn ordered, “-then have both Guiding Light and Strict Justice aligned with our Corellian Carriers.”
Her Comm Officers eagerly ran to relay her orders to the rest of the battle-group, this was a significant movement and Cyn wanted a much more aggressive posture now that she got the Imperial’s attention for the moment. She expected her X-Wings and Patrol Vessels to get severely mauled during their retreat, but with the sturdiness of their build and the speed of the other, Cyn wagered they could mitigate their losses. She still held back the majority of her X-Wing force, and along with her bombers, they could be readied for their next attack.
“Alert the Alliance ground forces of an increased Imperial presence on the surface. They should expect heavy resistance.” Cyn told her last Comm Officer who just returned for further orders.
Silhana Cadera Lynne Tal’kira aka Lady Orchid
Alor'ad (Captain), member of the Clan Cadera; Bounty Hunter, Headmistress of the House Orchid and The Bounty Hunters' Guild
FINAL ECLIPSE The Galactic Alliance will annihilate Exegol. // START: FEBUARY 1ST - END: MARCH 1ST // IT ENDS HERE. Valiens Nantaris "How vast a resolve must these people have, time and time again, to face hardship and horror and tragedy and terror, and still take up the mantle of freedom?" -...
Final Eclipse Shadow & Bone N. Kelga'an, Banshee-Actual The Empire Third Sector Defence Forces First Anaxsi Free Brigade -- Second TodHusars Regiment 'Banshee' Company IV Berzingue From Anaxes Ultimate Sprint -- Part I Interacting with: Aron Gowrie Eina L'lerim-Vandiir 878, Donnager...
"Multiple hostile forces detected in orbit!" "The High Regent has engaged with the Alliance fleet!" "Jedi are attempting to breach the upper atmosphere. Do not let them break through to the shipyards or the Citadel. The ritual must succeed at all costs!" Orders, warnings, commands. They rang...
"Multiple hostile forces detected in orbit!" "The High Regent has engaged with the Alliance fleet!" "Jedi are attempting to breach the upper atmosphere. Do not let them break through to the shipyards or the Citadel. The ritual must succeed at all costs!" Orders, warnings, commands. They rang...
"Multiple hostile forces detected in orbit!" "The High Regent has engaged with the Alliance fleet!" "Jedi are attempting to breach the upper atmosphere. Do not let them break through to the shipyards or the Citadel. The ritual must succeed at all costs!" Orders, warnings, commands. They rang...
Engaging: Sisserith Nearby Allies: Jasper Kai'el BB-610 Minerva Fhirdiad Tren Chaar Shar Sieu [ armor ] [ lightsaber ] [ blaster pistol ] [ drengr of the ragnarok ] Kahlil Noble had told him to be aware of his emotions. With the adrenaline feeding into his blood, it was hard to be aware of...
PHASE 1: ADVANCE ON EXEGOL || RED HONEYCOMB ZONE Allies: Aleksandr Stirsea, Ronan Calore (if he shows), Strike Team Tano Enemies: Brotherhood of the Maw | No PC’s until groundside (coming for you, Sahar) There was the briefest moment of quiet before, a sparse few seconds that dragged on for...
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium Objective: Survive (?)...
Marrow Whoops. Didn't mean to sound offensive there. She probably should've chosen her words more carefully. The creature swung at her with the pipe. As soon as he struck first, all bets were off. Thelma dropped and rolled out of the way, then responded with staggering violence, wrenching the...
THE - GREAT - HUNT ---In Transit--- Klaxons sounded as warnings from the other fleet were shared through the Intermingled system. Dasmi staring through the viewport in silence as the bridge crew began to holler back and forth to configure their own systems to the readings they were receiving...
THE - GREAT - HUNT ---In Transit--- Klaxons sounded as warnings from the other fleet were shared through the Intermingled system. Dasmi staring through the viewport in silence as the bridge crew began to holler back and forth to configure their own systems to the readings they were receiving...
Marrow The piece of debris taken care of, she attacked Marrow with her blade, holding nothing back. He evaded her strikes, but she didn't stop her assault, determined to stop him. The Force flexed, and she tensed in anticipation - but it turned out to be a feint, leaving her unprepared for the...
www.starwarsrp.net
<"You are the only exception where I did. Feel honoured that you are my first crazed mass murderer against whom I am even willing to perform assassin stunts! And I hate you for it!"> I snarled at him under my helmet.
As I kept moving on the other side of the rock to stay on the opposite side of him the whole time. To be an assassin; just the thought made me sick. It reminded me of when I was a slave. And for most of my life. I was only three or four years old, or maybe five, when a Force user man who had connections with several underworlds and the Sith was near to my parents and our Clan. He killed my parents, took our family property, our companies, everything and wiped out our twi'lek clan, our entire family. And I became a slave . When I got older, he started training me as an assassin, so that I could use my beauty, my race, to get close to my opponent and kill them easily. He killed my best and only friend with me. Either she or me, the ultimate test. He forced us to fight with each other till death.
I won, but the cost was too high. He just didn't expect me to kill him later to be free and pay for what he did to me. That's why I became a bounty hunter, so that such monsters could not escape from the law and commit crimes. For many, death would have been salvation, prison is much worse.
<"To the edge of the galaxy? Kralmus! I live next door here on Evaar'la Yaim!"> I grumbled, basically I barely had to go too far. This place was closer than if I went to Coruscant, which was the centre of the Galaxy. <"And you can't say you didn't do everything you could to lure me here!"> I replied.
It's true that I watched where he was, but he also worked quite a lot for me to come here. The next moment he was smashing the rock, probably bored of the cat and mouse game. Much to my chagrin.
<"And yes, I always avoid killing if possible!"> I said offended.
When he smashed the rock, the stones scratched the pink paint on my armour in countless places. Fortunately, I didn't take my helmet off, so I wasn't hurt. I immediately tried the same trick I did last time. However, he was now prepared for this and protected him with a plasma shield. Feth! And then came the moment I wasn't expecting, that wretched "speaxe" again, oh yeah, I think that's what I called it last time… so he had that melee weapon in his hand again. This was partly good and partly bad. Not only did he learn, but so did I.
As he hit me, I jumped to the side and rolled away. I felt the force of the very movement as it struck with insane force. He was still fast, but there was something about his madness that I could perhaps use to my advantage. It was as if nothing mattered anymore. I was hoping I would be able to take advantage of this. I hated that I had to do this, but Kralmus was too dangerous to try to capture alive. I hated him for forcing me to break my old vow not to kill anyone unless I had to. Even during the war, I tried not to kill, only to take prisoners.
After the roll, I knelt down on one leg, bracing my hand as I raised one of the pistols. I wasn't aiming for his chest, not his head. But to one of the grenades that was attached to his armour. I even used my armour's systems and MANIAC for more sure and much more accurate aiming. If you had the goal, then…
<"I'm so sorry, Kralmus!"> I told him. and pulled the trigger.
"No, I'm not paid enough." She replied with an element of satire in her disdain for taking matters seriously. Though his words, which cut deeper than any weapon could, would soon force her to face the reality that the Imperials had been long neglecting.
Surprised by the sudden movement, she stepped back to regain her footing and adopted a defensive stance in reaction, though he made no sudden move yet. They remained still. Near silence fell in the moments following his statement before Katja replied. "I chose to be here. Maybe the Empire is gone for now but we're not." She replied in true fanaticism.
The disarmed trooper, clearly seeing the situation in a different light, probably helped by his current vulnerability. "Javik, we're not irrational. What's the point in dying for a lost cause?" He asked in a rare moment of sensibility. Her gaze flicked from the Jedi that stood between them over to her ally.
"Would you rather die for the Empire or by the Empire?" She answered his question with one of her own. His words were close to treason and she would have no qualms in responding accordingly. "Are you threatening me?" He asked but the answer was clear. "That depends on your answer."
She had regretfully killed loyal Imperial citizens in one fateful mission so she would have no opposition in killing a disloyal one.
Objective: Establish Fighter Superiority
Enemies: Open
Dayjer leads his wing of fighters through a never ending swarm of enemy fighters, taking firing when the opportunity presented itself, the briefing was simple, keep the skies clear so the foot sloggers wouldn’t get lit up from above…that was much easier said than done, as the skies of Exogol were thick with Brotherhood ships, they truly had kicked up a hornets’ nest, and now we’re desperately trying to avoid getting stung.
He took a breath, keeping his nerves settled, maintaining his cool, losing it meant a fiery death, <Just keep ‘em busy, lads, every one shooting at is is one not shooting at our boys on the ground.> he says as he shreds another fighter that drifted into his sights.
Damian Du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta Objective Two: Shadow and Bone Actions: Talk to new Cell Mate Outfit (Cape-less)
Ah, they’re in a group. Damian inwardly tensed, expecting to be taken up for another rounding event of further torture. He counted each precious second, attempting to enjoy whatever was left of his peaceful quietness. But instead of his own cell door opening the group of Maw zealots opened the cell across from him, throwing a body onto the floor as they laughed and left just as quickly as they arrived.
The body remained limp, bloody and clearly alive by the slow rise of the body with each breath. But for how long? Damian knew that the only reason why they were kept alive was for something much more devious than just simply playthings and give the Maw Zealots something to relieve their frustrations. Well, something slightly above the status of a punching bag.
When the sound of the Maw’s footsteps echoed further away, Damian moved closer to his cell door. His chains dragged along the metal floor and despite his best effort, he could only get half the distance closer with his restraints. Before long the area turned quiet, and Damian too his chance to speak out loud for once. The first time in a while since his capture, since then it had only been pained cries and yells. And perhaps a few curses.
“If you’re awake and understand galactic basic, don’t move too suddenly or twist your body with your hips if you’re going to sit up. You more than likely have broken ribs, so you’re going to want to limit upper body movement.” Damian croaked out, his voice hoarse and brittle.
“But if you're asleep, then I envy your opportunity to escape this reality for a short reprieve.” Damian added, his laugh caught in his terribly dry throat. The young Du Couteau heir wasn’t sure if he had a broken rib, he was certainly sore and tender throughout his body, but sitting up wasn’t causing too much discomfort.
His flickering eyes darted between Imperial, back and forth as reason and zealotry combated one another. He could recall a time in which zealotry near-consumed him, swallowed him though did not like the toughness of that meat, spitting it back out. Corin had seen first-hand what it would do to someone, how far it would push them, and a lashing out animal in a corner is what they became once it all crumbled around them.
"Javik, is it?" Corin asked with the loft of his brow, standing firm in his place between them both. A triangle of vision between the three. Though he never turned his eyes Katja. "Why die at all? You can live. You said it yourself, the Empire is gone; it doesn't mean you have to be, but that's all that waits for you if you keep on this path."
Her pride had already been wounded enough from the fallout that was the downfall of the Empire - the cause she had devoted years of her life to - and she would not take criticism from a self-righteous Jedi of all people.
Live for what? She thought in response but kept it to herself. Without the Empire, she lacked purpose which left her and many others clinging onto a dying legacy but she didn't owe him any justification for her loyalty.
"I suppose Jedi really are masters of diplomacy." She responded, almost amused. "Wars aren't won with words. I don't know why you people keep trying. You're too soft and look at the state of the galaxy as a result."In line with her statement, she sent a calculated swing in his direction with both hands on the staff and stood her ground.
The space above the Brotherhood homeworld burned with furious fighting. The Alliance and allied forces were buoyed by the arrival of Commodore Cynthia Alucard
and her fleet and an Eternal Alliance Super Star Destroyer commanded by Fleet Admiral Dasmi Lindervale. Hundreds of automated ships helmed by Ishida Ashina
jumped in-system to lay siege to Exegol.
While the colossal fleets clashed, the smaller starfighters were likewise engaged with the enemy. The escapades of Jack Versio
and Gold Squadron played out over the tactical comm as they decimated the hanger bay of a Brotherhood flagship from the inside. Commander Emberlyn Rekali and Twins Suns Squadron moved to engage the enormous, horrifying space beasts which appeared above Exegol. Wing Commander Dayjer Haspar
and his starfighters provided highly-effective close air support for Alliance forces on the ground.
Revenant Squaron was also finding success, paid in the blood of Brotherhood pilots. Chaar squeezed the trigger on his flight stick, shattering the wing of an enemy TIE fighter. The shattered starfighter spun out of control, narrowly avoiding taking out another TIE fighter. Space around Exegol was a target-rich environment, just how the Umbaran liked it. He forewent his tradition of marking a tally of kills - his near-death experience at Shihon had shown him there was more to fight for than just accolades.
A warning light on his console chimed, signalling an imminent shield failure. Chaar pulled back on the stick to distance himself from the blood-soaked planet. By sorcery or design, Exegol's atmosphere played havoc on his shields. He didn't plan to let a lucky shot take him out of the fight.
"Enemy squadron inbound!" Revenant Six called over the squadron comm. Chaar adjusted his scope. Four squadrons of Brotherhood starfighters were on an intercept course for Revenant in fighters of an unknown design. The tactical computer began its analysis, returning worrying results - these new TIEs were fast, agile, heavily armed and heavily armoured.
Fancy hardware was one thing—time to see if these pilots could match their ships.
"Break by flights," Chaar ordered, a standard Revenant Squadron response they deployed in almost every mission. "Two and Four Flights, close with and engage those Red-eyes." The X-wings and their heavy laser canons were ideally suited for dogfighting. "Three Flight, get behind them." The fast-moving A-wings would zip through the enemy formation and be on their six before they knew it. "One Flight, on me." The B-wings with their heavy payloads would finish the enemy once the other pilots cracked their shields.
Feeling more than confident than usual - unknowingly influenced to bravery by Jannik Morlandt
and the Jedi Force meld - Chaar reset his shields and armed his missiles, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Forbidden District Outskirts - Airfield
Writing With: Thelma Goth
As acid melted parts of the prey's arm down to the bone, Marrow cackled joyously.
She had tricks he was unfamiliar up her sleeve, but in the end, they had not saved her - except despite the pain she must be feeling, she mustered the strength to fling him backwards with her accursed telekinesis. An angry growl left his lips, though it was quickly displaced by an utterance of pain as a sharp piece of debris tore through the back of his torso.
Pain giving way to fury, he pulled himself off of the twisted steel beam, the flesh on his torso beginning to pull itself together within moments. As he had previously noted, he was more than the fleeting chattel.
"Give in. I - can make - your - death pleasant."
Without awaiting a response, he picked up a sizeable chunk of debris and flung it at her.
Before the metal left his hands, the husked corpse lying behind the prey, uncaring of the drops of acid that had fallen on it, would lunge for her legs. Its purpose? Gouge her flesh with its teeth and keep her pinned in place.
Sensing that her chakrams had inflicted a shallow cut via her attunement, Quintessa let a satisfied snarl out from her lips. She anticipated that it wouldn’t be long before the blood-poison began to inflict its agonizing effects, but the tiny Asa’nyx didn’t cease her offensive. She called her chakrams back within an instant of their deflection, the weapons automatically looping around at the Asa’nyx’s command via the repulsorlifts integrated into their construction. However, they were not called back towards their wielder, but rather, her assailant.
Flying straight for his upper back.
A split-second later, the speedster’s Farsight flared to life, warning her of the impending danger as the Jedi charged ahead in spite of the blood-poison. She had only a moment to decide how to counter the impending attack, before his blades came sweeping in low, towards her legs.
While he went low, she went high.
Quintessa’s form shot upward in a backwards somersault which carried her 8 meters behind her original position—an acrobatic sai motivated by a sudden burst of Force energy in her legs. The movement was fast, but not fast enough to allow her to avoid the hit entirely. Even as the speedster jumped to avoid losing her legs, the Jedi’s blade glanced across her shins, causing the miniaturized energy shield projectors in that area to flare in reaction to the blow, mitigating the damage to an extent.
Even so, Quintessa hissed as a hot sensation traveled up her legs, a shallow burn having been inflicted on her flesh.
OBJECTIVE II: SHADOW AND BONE OBSERVE, DOCUMENT, EXTERMINATE AT THE CIRCUS/DARK CARNIVAL GROUNDS ENGAGED WITH:Danton
Sometimes, ya knew when to double down on abet. Other times ya had to fold em. Life was a lot like a deck of cards, except that in her line of work, stacking the deck was an appropriate play. And that's what she was after.
From the darkness, a single form took shape. She still remained stock still, green eyes piercing the night through her smart goggles like laser beams. Her new contact had an all black getup, cloak, pointy evil hood. She was looking at either a Sith or another twisted abomination dreamt up by the maw. Her watch pinged, letting her know the terminal had been drained of its contents, and had malware uploads had begun. The watch gave her away as it lit up. Stealth was no longer an option, she had to act.
Time to double down then....
With a devilish grin, she reached down and pulled the pin on one of her grenades, strapped to her combat harness. There were a bunch of them, all marked the same. Only Jadcasa knew which was which. She had one for every occasion, cryo, smoke, incendiary etc. This one was her favorite though, an old trick that she'd read about in the SIA archives.
Time to put it to the test...
She glanced left, scouting her next move. The SMG fell to combat position, as wisps of gasses began to hiss from the grenade, fogging the area with milky white Laser Dissipating Aerosol. The aerosol was unique in that it refracted laser beams and rendered them null. Luckily, Sith loved their laser beat sticks.
Through the smoke, her goggles locked onto the Sith, giving her a nice kill box sized target that linked with her reticle. Her finger slipped into the guard, and she played her first card.
A controlled double burst of slughtrower rounds swept towards Danto, from the feet to the middle of the chest....
OOC: FN-999, I assume you have a better tag list of your guys and gals than I do. Missed a bunch.
Radio calls began to light up the formation. She heard Zark call over comms, warning of reinforcements. She heard the Marines move out and gave a sigh of relief. IT meant they were no longer the only forces on the ground. While the 54th had been quick to land, out ahead of them the Pathfinders were somewhere in the dark, operating, and she'd had not a whiff of a radio comm from them.
"Tal. I think the pathfinders might be in trouble," she whispered, trying to keep the noise discipline. It was a bit of pointless exercise anyhow. The next few seconds went by faster than she could grasp. Mawite beasts appeared form the shadows. The advance part of their gigantic company wedge paused, and sent them to their bellies. She scanned through her optic, straining to see what was ahead. All her and Tal could do was wait, and try to guess what was ahead.
A call came over the net.
<<"Imperials, dead ahead, four hundred meters or so. I can't give you a count. White armor, big guns, vs some kind of monsters.">>
She grunted and then another call ran over the net. It was the Pathfinders.
<<"Contact, shipyard! Final Dawn forces have us pinned down. Requesting support from all stations!">>
"Chit."
She glanced to Tal, waiting for him to decide. The Aqualish Staff Sergeant knew what she knew. Right now they were a company element about a five hundred strong. Their sister company Aurek was close behind, with only three hundred. The Marines had been meant to be the bulk force and clear the way, but delays had caused a little snafu in the plan. If they split their forces, they could save the Pathfinders and possibly die here. IF they didn't the Pathfinders would be hard-pressed to survive. Light infantry was for scouting and skirmish, not siege.
"Ideas?"
She chewed it over a for a second and then spoke.
"Detach a force here to set up earthworks with an E-web, and go save the Pathfinders. The shipyard is our mission anyway."
Tal was about to nod when the line lit up, A-280 rifles sending tons of bolts into the monsters that screeched and reared from the darkness.
"Too late. GET ON LINE! Z-6 Rotary cannons, interval every fifteen meters, MOVE!"
The formation reacted, first slowly then quicker as their comrades were ripped to fleshy ribbons and ichor sprayed the foggy night with garish mist.
Tal and her moved up, separated and plopped down fifty meters apart, to maintain command and control. The night turned green, punctuated with blaster fire, red with explosions and rife with screams of the fearful and dying. The maw monsters were pinned between the Stormtrooper forces and the Alliance, but that would not separate the two sides for long… They were facing due east, and to their north, she could hear the screams of the Pathfinders mixed with the din of battle as the Final Dawn Forces engaged.
She hadn't any time to think about that, and shoved every negative emotion, including the fear of death into a box, and sealed it shut.
No time to think, no time to feel, just time to kill....
"Sustained fire, Z-6 to cyclic, dominate your sectors!," Tal roared.
She lowered her own rifle, sighted and squeezed the trigger.....
An agonizing howl propagated throughout the hangar bay and with it a powerful shockwave that tore open Sisserith’s sensitive eardrums, causing her world to fall silent as an invisible current of destruction cascaded across the hangar bay, throwing the tiny Sithspawn from her feet. Her world was turned upside down as she was thrown amidst a tide of debris, bodies, and chunks of hull. A mere passenger on the wave of destruction, a sharp scream tore out from the Seseli’s lips as time slowed to a crawl, allowing her a moment to realize the fact that her survival was no longer in her hands.
Then, came a jarring impact on her skull, knocking her into unconsciousness.
She came to amidst a slew of wreckage, powerful survival instincts and a pounding headache pulling her from the blackness. By instinct, she looked for her shotgun first, only to find it gone amidst the debris. Nevertheless, as her situation slowly dawned on her, Sisserith began to sense that she was lucky, if only for the fact that she was not one of the mangled corpses of dead or grievously injured Mawites in her midst, the latter whose terrible screams she was able to hear only in vague rhythms. Upon realizing her survival, an aching series of cackling giggles escaped from her lips, her pale features taking on a deep shade of pink as she did.
Then, she tried to move one of her arms.
A disbelieving sigh escaped from her lips as she took in the injury—her left arm below the elbow crushed to a pulp by a large hunk of metal. Fortunately, pain had yet to overcome her adrenaline, but the Sithspawn knew immediately that she would have to hack the limb off in order to escape. With a deep breath, she pulled her vibroblade out from its sheath on her leg, before gritting her teeth and committing herself to the gruesome task.
"We're doing it old man just keep us flying!" Aleksandr had called back, the Violet Venture's primary canons coming to life after what felt like an eternity. "Does he ever stop complaining?" Cale caught his padawan adding, the Jedi banking into a sharper roll than he'd needed to if only to rattle his former pupil, but all he heard was laughter.
"S'been almost nine years kid, and you're still asking?" Ronan Calore chimed in with gruff derision, the crack of the Mandalorian's turret filling the space between his words as Mawite fighters became little more than dust and ashes. Cale grumbled under his breath as the ship bit into the atmosphere, the enemy's fighters never once letting up on them. They just kept coming, by their hundreds and their thousands, the Mawities kept coming.
He wondered how something like the Maw, a cult dedicated to wanton death and destruction, could have ever garnered so many followers. Then Cale recalled himself, recalled how he'd watched nation after nation rise to claim great swathes of the galaxy, then fall in a fraction of the time states of their like had throughout history. It was a time of chaos, and perhaps they thought the only answer was madness. Some part of him didn't blame them for that conclusion, but he could not forgive what they had done with it.
Not that they needed or wanted his forgiveness.
The next pair of fighters that rushed in were no different than those that had come before them, they bore no special markings, and Cale sensed no strength in the force from them. They were not some fearsome enemy aces, but they were what Kahlil Noble had warned him, fanatic. When he cut the first down and ripped a hole into the hull of the second, Cale had expected the fighter to fall away and die. Instead, it accelerated.
The force gave him time to react, time that would spare him and his crew annihilation, but it would not save them. He could've banked left, minimized the ship's profile as the dying starfighter rushed to collide with them, but then what parts of it did make contact with the Venture would rip through the gunner's compartment. His friend, his son former pupil, Cale could not make that choice.
And so he broke right, and the fighter crashed into the Venture across her center. The impact throttled him, slamming him with a force untold as the ship that had been his home was all but gutted in an instant. Her engines were ripped from her, all chance at saving the ship gone in an instant. They began to drop, and Cale fought for control.
"Cale!"
"Pod, now!"
"Not without yo-!" He heard the sounds of a scuffle over the scream of alarms, pulsing red lights casting their glow over his face as he wrestled with the stick. Ronan understood in a way Aleks couldn't. The Mandalorian knew that there was no way for them to get to Cale, and no way for Cale to get to them. There just wasn't enough time.
"I better see you again, spacer." The Mandalorian grunted, before the launch of an escape pod rocked the Venture.
"Count on it." Cale muttered to no one but himself. The ship plummeted, but as if in answer to his prayers the airbrakes finally deployed, landing thrusters not at all designed for this kind of descent sparked to life, and every bit of excess weight was dropped away. The Violet Venture became less a firey meteor and more a falling stone, it still wasn't good, but as he guided its dive through the darkness of Exegol's sky, Cale found it in himself to believe that the story was not yet over.
The Violet Venture slammed into the dark sands, fire and debris spraying as it kicked up a storm of dust with its impact. For a moment, in the blackness of the world it seemed that spare the fires spreading along its ruined corpse of a hull were all that lived. It was still, the chaos of the battle above and around nothing but distant echoes in ringing ears, faded and forgotten. Then the canopy crumpled as if grasped by some invisible hand and was tossed aside.
Cale Gunderson stepped out, and took in the world at the heart of darkness, lightsaber inert in his hand. For a moment the Jedi stood with the rising heat of his refuge to his back, orange and yellow dancing as he looked out with a trickle of blood rolling down his forehead. The city was ahead, his family somewhere between it and him. There was only one choice, he moved forward.
More cultists came and Pradd decided to stop defending and just attcked the ennemies, with a front charge. His poor knowledge of Djem So and Makashi helped him defeat the ennemies in an elegant but aggressive style. Who would even combine two forms of combat for the first time, in a battlefield? <"KID. You know the Force, all that? If you move the rubble and debris off my tank, we can get the hell out of here."> -"Understood!"
And Pradd did his best to protect the tank and as he saw the last of the enemies getting sliced by his lightsaber, more cultists arrived and he felt their rage.. So, Pradd quickly took his Comlink and contacted Boil. <<Boiler, Boiler! Are you with me?>>
<<Uh, yes Jedi. What do you need?>>
<<Artillery support at these coordinates, can you do that for me?>>
<<Yes, yes wait a second.>>
And as the communication ended, Pradd saw several explosions to the coordinates of the enemy. "Oh, by the Force.." Pradd just felt the rage vanish and extreme pain come, some of them where still alive.. But for how long? He took a deep breath, turned his lightsaber off ad tried to lift the rocks. It was hard as Pradd training wasn't completed. But after a few minutes, he managed to get the last rock out and the Tank was fianlly free. As the rocks were lifted, Pradd felt the darkness, he didn't feel it because he was concentrated in the combat but, it felt like he could touch it..
With hesitation, Pradd came towards the tank and promptly said, "Hey! you can get out of here now!"
A soft tut tut once Mercy could feel Maijan's annoyance.
Mercy's hand gently cupped her jaw, a little squeeze and then a pat. It was so soft and gentle. Almost the exact opposite of how Mercy often behaved in and out of battle. Maijan knew this. She was there for many of the highlights. "I am just looking after you, darrrrling." Echoing the accented drawl with a little smile before Mercy withdrew and streeeetched lazily.
"What would I do without yar golden personality around me?"
Probably be even more suicidal.
If there was one thing Paisea's presence was good at it was reminding Mercy she was mortal. Because the fellow greed-induced freak was fragile in all the ways that Mercy was durable.
While Maijan was tracking down the station on the sensory array Mercy picked up a nutritional bar. This close proximity to death was waking the murder trees in the back of her head. They wanted to know where this was. Who was dying. Could they have a nip? Just a little nip. Promise. Until Mercy pointed out the death was happening in the vacuum of space.
This seemed to make them lose interest.
Returning to the soft cadence of meatmeatmeat in perfect rhythm with Mercy's chewing.
"When 'ave I ever distracted you, golden stars? I always keep ya steady an' focused on the task at hand." Mercy smirked as the station came into view in response to Maijan's deft flying. She immediately rose up, her hand briefly brushing the pummel of her butcher's blade. Put at ease there she tapped Maijan's shoulder.
"Let's go, gorgeous, we got a date with an ominous karked-up blood station."
Entry was easy enough. They had rehearsed this part. Maijan would briefly transform their shuttlecraft into one of the Maw fighters. Then Mercy transmitted the most recent codes she got from the few remaining people still looking favorably at her within the Maw.
With most of them distracted by the battle the automated systems did the rest.
Their ship glided into the hangar bay and deposited both of them.
It was quiet.
"Like mah favorite HoloNet shows like to say.... It is almost.... too quiet." Almost with a hopeful glance Mercy looked around. Waiting for all hell to break loose as she spoke the magic words. Heart beats passed. Then a minute. Nothing. Mercy sighed and looked disappointed at her partner in crime. "I swear, if I don't get to crush even one skull in the middle of a war between the Alliance and the Maw, I am going to karking pout, Maijaaaaaan."
Her pouting was a bit more destructive than usual however.
With big strides she walked towards the control panel next to the hangar doors. Hopefully they could get in without much fuss.
Valery raised her hand to defend them, but Kahlil had stopped moving.
Darkness. As Kyrel let his wave of darkness out, he felt it. Them. As an Epicanthix, Kahlil had always been naturally resistant to all manner of effects against his mind. But this was different. His eyes widened. Voices were in that darkness. Impossible to distinguish at first, but one by one they grew clearer and clearer.
Why didn't you help us?
Traitorous son, just like his father.
We didn't deserve to die like this.
Everything hurts.
It hurts.
Pain.
PAIN.
Kahlil gripped the side of his head as he stumbled back half a step. Panatha. It's people, his people. They were there, in that darkness within Kyrel. He'd eaten them. The whole planet he'd devoured. And now they were here. For a moment the Jedi Master faltered. Resentment. Anger. He wasn't there when they needed help. His father had left them for dead. None of his family had helped them.
He didn't help them.
"He still has them."
It was rare for emotion to form in his voice. Growing up as he did, he long learned how to keep his emotions hidden behind a veil. But now he had anger in his tone. Anger and grief.
Surea stood then. Lifted the alloyed blade she carried in her metallic hand. Her rot scared face turned to stare in the distance, find the Force, the flow. Someone familiar was there. A flash of anger filled her face. The healer. The one who thought she could just extend a hand to help. She'd never needed help before. And certainly didn't need it now. A wicked grin formed as she turned her gaze back to the rot infested soldier beside her.
"Let them in. Open the gate. And let the Rot flow."
He stiffened into a salute as be he could, then ran off to relay her orders to the others. This person, this annoyance, they'd feel her Rot. And maybe then they'd understand she never needed their help.
Hekate Ignosi
Kat Decoria
