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THE WARDEN LIGHTPOINT STATION|| MEDITATION SPHERE PHASE II: LANDFALL BATTLEMELD ACTIVE
Zark’s departure left the room empty, cold, and more clinical. More station than anything. What had been a moment was now just…a room.
Asmundr drew in a deep breath, and resigned himself to his seated position that grounded him with the cool ground. He preferred Prosperity’s atmosphere to this one. It had been designed with him in mind — this station was something else entirely. Impersonable.
But it wasn’t his surroundings that he drew and wove strength from. It was the connections through which he’d seen countless futures, triumphs, victories, and losses, pain and ends. All those who were down below, through the web of black and red, and valiantly facing darkness.
He drew in a deep breath, held it, and let it go. Let himself go. Lending himself to that which beckoned and welcomed him.
Through the murkiness of the darkside, paths that crisscrossed over one another glistened. Luminescent beings, Zark had said — and Asmundr believed that. He wanted to hold on to all of them like precious treasures. To guard and sanctify each one in their journeys. It was his charge as The Warden, and it brought him honour to oblige and pontificate himself as a pillar of Light to those who were in the depths of darkness.
It is so dark. Exegol was almost too dark. Asmundr concentrated deeper, levelling himself out through the balance he had achieved long, long, long ago. Finally, the world below revealed itself, and all those on it did too.
At its centre, the empty place gained definition. Patterns began to match, simplifying into lower-energy structures, silhouettes of the Light’s warriors. The abstract architecture of human connection and the abstract model of geography began to correlate. All nodes of the construct he’d once had evidence themselves as pointed beacons, and he reached out, and out, and out.
THERE IS NO EMOTION, THERE IS PEACE |
Frustration, dismay, despair, anger — all natural emotions, all misleading parts of being a fragile sentient in the face of danger. A group of Padawans brave enough to fight on Exegol needed balance (Jand Talo
, Corazona von Ascania
) . Especially as he felt a vitriolic curdle of pungent Force form from Thelma Goth
.
In return, those of Strike Team Windu needed a different kind of balance. The reminder of there is no passion, there is serenity. A reminder to remain centred and true in their pending conflicts.
THERE IS NO IGNORANCE, THERE IS KNOWLEDGE | Valery Noble
| Kahlil Noble
| Capris Halcyon
| Rhemti Totriddiam
| Kat Decoria
Where there had been conflict on the station, he felt the cool breath of closure. It would not last forever, there was something that felt unfinished about it, but Asmundr pooled his own perception and balance to lend to the masters on the station.
A similar knowledge to always anticipate brushed against the signatures of Padawans Halcyon, Totriddiam and Decoria despite them being far, far, far apart.
THERE IS NO PASSION, THERE IS SERENITY |
A lone force wove themselves through the fighting forces. Delicately, Asmundr reached out, reached out, reached out, to brush the tumultuous mind of Jem Fossk
THERE IS NO CHAOS, THERE IS HARMONY | Jannik Morlandt
| Henna Ashina An extension of bolstered union, in concert with the ministrations of Masters Sarratt and Morlandt, re-emphasized the courage and virtue of The New Jedi Order’s warriors in the atmosphere and on the earth below. An extra token of encouragement passed through the existing jubilance to Jasper Kai'el
, BB-610
and Minerva Fhirdiad
and direct that productive thrill to reinforce Strike Team Tano.
ALLIES | THE NEW JEDI ORDER | THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE | CIRCLE OF SEERS | PROXIMITY // Valery Noble
| Kahlil Noble
| Arage Bao FOES | THE DARKSIDE | BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW
______________________________________________________________ D U L C E T TASK FORCE NULL | EXEGOL | SUBTERRANIAN STATION ______________________________________________________________
Cordé’s plan to engage with Sion as little as possible was foiled by his overreach and offence to her capability. Even if Sion was technically right, Cordé didn’t like hearing it. Whether it was because it was his Jediduty (and therefore expected heroism) or just because it was Sion and she was still hurt and sour from the way they'd split. Maybe it was the combination of both that sparked the indignant scoff at the back of her throat that quickly slid over her tongue and snapped through her teeth, shaping into an echo of his attempt to tease:
“Allowingme?” Her voice was severer than she meant it to be, but she didn’t reign herself in. The darkness that obscured her glare fell away to the saber’s light. Freshly bright, her narrowed eyes glinted in the blue glow.
Bad choice of words given the last time they’d seen each other he’d forced her up against a wall and taken away her mobility. He hadn’t allowed her to move. And he’d used The Force against her. The reaction born from the memory of feeling her arms peeling open without her consent continued. She couldn’t withhold the rough, raw emotion rooted in so much they’d left unsaid: “This isn’t me against a wall. I don’t need your permission to move.”
She felt her face tighten with emotion and she turned away from him, focusing instead on their surroundings to figure out how to advance.
It felt like she could hear time itself tick, tick, tick, tick, ticking away. In those precious seconds, she unearthed an answer to his question from memories that they didn’t share.
“The station is supposedly mostly automated.” Cordé answered, annoyed that she had to relive the briefing again and doubly irritated that it was with him of all people. Annoyance was easier to feel than grief. Because the words she was repeating were not hers. They were Sheb’s, and they came out of the mouth that she’d last seen partly open and lifeless.
It was a painful shame he never got the chance to actuate his planning, his sleepless nights of codebreaking and algorithm-defying and rewriting. He'd never made it into the tunnels they'd assumed to plot through maps created by best-guesses.
At least with the light, navigation was easier than guesswork. She could see a bit more of their environment. In the darkness of the almost tunnels, anything could have existed.
They’d been sharing silence long enough to cover enough ground to the first touchpoint. Cordé recognized its shape from the map they’d reviewed many times.
Her fist punched into the panel that whooshed open durasteel doors to a dark room that lit itself up when she took the first step in. Dark red and orange. Cracks in the walls glowed amber, reminding them how deeply they’d travelled. It was oddly warm, despite being entirely stone and metal.
"Really? You're not? I don't know...all I can think of is what Sheb said—” she frowned deeply, “— if the program starts, this station’s one of the first things to go so it doesn’t get stopped. Destroy the source.” Vacancy in the station was a bad, bad sign. Every time she’d been grateful for his Jedi abilities had been erased from her mind. The fact that he felt nothing, no-one, was as helpful as it was concerning.
She sucked in a horrified breath, and poured over the console, trying hard to find anything Sheb would have looked for. Her hands ran over an unresponsive red screen, but a whir of schematics coursed across the display.
“If you can’t feel anything, and you got to our crash site so quickly..”
Next to the screen, was a port that looked like it might be what she was looking for. She dropped to her knees, and slid her pack from her back, and began to rummage. She aired out all her fears, whether or not Sion was listening. Just as she didn’t need his permission to move, she didn’t need his allowance to speak and rationalise the situation either.
“The crash delayed our mission time, we were supposed to be ahead of everyone..” Her hands smoothed over the interfacing device she’d seen Sheb use a handful of times in the dry runs. She'd used one similar once or twice in basic training, and that would have to suffice.
Now, her voice was as thin and fragile as she felt. “...it might have..started.”
"I am no Lord," Jand responded with no emotion, as his gray stare was lit up with the crackling and sparking lightning before him. "And you choose your allies poorly, Malum of House Marr.
"This will not end well for you. Or the Sith."
The permeation of the dark side was thick on Exegol, which was expected, though that brought little comfort or reassurance. That said, when it came to the pull of the darkness, that subtle influence and whisper in the back of ones mind, Jand found himself more keenly resistant to the effects; and while he hadn't had the chance to fully consider why, the leading theory for Jand was his Nagai upbringing, which outright ignored - or normalized - what many others considered morally ambiguous acts. As it was, Jand's time with the Jedi Order had seen him adapt some of his personal beliefs, mainly to align with the nature of the organization, with his resistance to coercion higher than others.
So, Jand's biggest concern wasn't for himself, but for Corazona.
Suddenly the lightning ended, as a burst of flames erupted from Malum Marr instead, and Jand wondered at how that could be. A surprising feat for a supposed Apprentice, being able to control elements, not to mention the use of Force Lightning to begin with. And while there was no real scale to judge a Force user on, in terms of power applicability, Jand had never encountered an Apprentice doing what was done - which meant Malum Marr was somewhat strong in the Force.
Jand backpedaled, as the long sleeves of his robe took the brunt of the heat, though held against the burning element. The Nagai peered over one arm in front of his face, as he saw the lightsaber from Malum Marr burst from within the fire projection; and with well-practiced ease, Jand knocked the thrown blade to one side with a horizontal slash, as he aimed to catch the lower end of the weapon plasma source, nearer the hilt emitter, to hinder attempts to spin it.
"Lightning and fire? Impressive."
With a calm his opponent did not share, Jand reached out with his mind and took hold of a nearby food cart, and with a burst of telekinesis sent the portable dispensary with force at Malum Marr. The cart shed balls of spun candy and treats as it flew, guided to hit the Sith Apprentice from the side, to disrupt the focus required for force flames.
Jand remained aware of the wayward lightsaber to his left, as he charged to the right, and used his natural speed to alter the approach angle, as his eyes flicked toward Corazona and Starfall - things did not look good there. Then, with a sudden change in direction, Jand bounded toward Malum Marr and closed distance in several quick leaps, as he brought his pair of lightsabers in for attack; and with the use of Jar'Kai, attacked from opposing sides with a crisscross slash.
"Kill you before my friends die?" the Padawan said in a low voice, as he glared. "Yes, definitely."
And with steely confidence and focus, Jand began to swipe and slash with his dual blades, as he got up close and personal with Malum Marr...
Space around Revenant Squadron exploded with pulses of coloured light as Two and Four Flights met with Crimson Linings Squadron. The X-wings pilots were in peak condition and had clocked up dozens of hours in the simulators preparing for the mission. The appearance of the new TIE Barons - codenamed Red-eyes - presented an unexpected challenge, but one the pilots would be able to deal with.
Or so Chaar had assumed.
He was circling the engagement, looking for the perfect moment to strike with his heavy missiles, as the first calls started to come over the tactical com that the Alliance starfighters were struggling to keep their shields online.
The Umbaran checked the squadron status report on his console, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. The enemy starfighters were hammering the Alliance shields with weapons much more potent than the battle analysis computer had predicted. These were not regular TIE fighters.
Not that it mattered. In the end, all Brotherhood pilots died the same.
"One Flight, change of plans - we're going in."
Chaar watched as the five Red-eyes wove between the eight X-wings, outnumbered but certainly not outgunned. Revenant Sixteen called out that they were hit, their rear shields collapsing under a harrowing barrage from the lead Crimson Linings pilot. They didn't even have time to eject before their starfighter was cut to the ribbons.
Chaar needed to end this quickly before everyone's shields were depleted. He bracketed the lead Red-eye with his crosshairs and opened first with a hail of stutter-fire lasers. Next to him, Revenant Two fired a pair of proton torpedoes. Chaar shifted his fire slightly to the left, presenting an opportunity to escape to the right, straight into the path of his wingmate's incoming ordinance.
He smiled. This would all be over soon, another glorious victory for Chaar and his pilots.
Kyrel had been forced to his knees. Forced to block the ferocity that had come from the Sword of the Jedi. On the inside he felt glee unlike any other maybe at the thought of being released. Still he had far deadlier intentions, as he only wondered if she had the ball bearings to do what needed to be done. His fingers gripped tightly to his saber as she kept bashing and bashing with each stroke of her blade. Until she had finally broken through his defenses and his saber was brought out from his grasp. Clanking to the floor the crimson blade would immediately deactivate and Kyrel found himself station in to the furious eyes of his enemy.
She spoke with the conviction of both a hero, and a Jedi one and the same. Kyrel wasn’t afraid, but to Valery’s surprise there was a slight smirk that formed across his ugly maw, and Kyrel would find himself excitedly whispering. “Yes..” In response to her words, and it was clear the Wrath of the Maw was making no moves to defend himself. Even as he felt the dark mass of souls being yanked from his undead corpse. Then just as quickly as it had began he would first feel the stinging plasma plunge deep into his chest. Kyrel didn’t let out a gasp, nor a whimper, not even a scream of defiance. He only knelt there motionless as he felt her violet blade infused with the light side unleash a chain reaction within his corpse. Just as she pulled her blade out Kyrel would start to glow, his body shook.
The Wound in the Force would find himself surrounded by shadows, the glow of violet light further expanded and just as quickly Kyrel would start to crumble into pieces. There was no hatred for Kyrel Ren in that moment, no undying rage in his hour of death that even Valery Noble would find slightly strange. No final curses, nor words of defiance. A slight gasp came from him as the dead man slowly stripped away to pieces. Shreds of him would scatter around the observation deck. Clouds of darkness surrounded the dead man, for one hasn’t witnessed a death of a Wound since the time of Darth Nihilus.
The hulking form of Kyrel Ren would finally fall forward. The rest of his body devolved into pieces, and what remained was his shattered armor, his mask and his lightsaber all in one crumpled pile. Kyrel Ren, Wrath of the Maw, and Master of the Knights of Ren had lost and now there was only ashes of him. The shadows of the lost and disembodied souls he had consumed had spread out and flew freely finally able to escape dreaded darkness that had ruled over him.
Still Valery in the moment of her greatest triumph could still feel dread linger in the air. Even as pieces of Kyrel had floated through the air, one could see a dark shape move through the air. Despite his physical death, Kyrel was still a cursed, dark spirit unable to return to the fires of Hell. Luckily for him in his second life he had learned to move his consciousness quickly into someone’s body and at the moment of his death, Kyrel would latch onto the closest living being it could find… Valery herself.
Just as Valery would be able to relax, her body would tense up and her muscles stiffened. Just as she felt the intense feeling of dread, she would also feel Kyrel’s undying rage. She would hear a sickly sweet voice inside her head. “You lost pathetic woman… So weak… So vulnerable.” Kyrel spoke as if he had a dark moment of clarity that turned into sadistic delight as Valery would feel herself starting to fight for control of her body. The vengeful spirit of Kyrel Ren would force her to her knees this time. In her mind’s eye she would see disturbing images of Kyrel as he appeared in every memory she had. He whispered darkly. “I’ll take this body as my own…. But first I’ll eat your soul… There will be nothing left of you.” He would say before she would completely collapse to the ground of Kyrel’s own will. He would start to torture her from the inside making her body seize up, her muscles her, her limbs would violently spasm and convulse all the while she kept seeing flashes of Kyrel Ren in her head, taunting her with cruelty she never witnessed before.
Valery drew in a heavy breath when she pulled the lightsaber free from his body and watched as the walking corpse began to crumble one piece at a time. She could feel his darkness slowly fading away as his presence was returned to the Force, and even all of his anger and rage were disappearing, leaving the two Nobles in an eerily quiet room. After his body soon fell over, Valery stepped back and turned around to look at her husband with a pained smile.
This fight was over, but they were both hurt. No limbs were lost and nothing happened they couldn't recover from, but something about this clash was going to stay with her forever. As deep as her bond was with Kahlil, there was something more sinister that lingered between her and the Wrath, and she feared that even his death would not cut those ties.
Then, within seconds of turning away from Kyrel's remains, Valery felt a sudden and dark shift in the Force. Before she realized what it was, the spirit of Kyrel Ren entered her body through her back. Her chest was pushed out and every muscle in her body tensed, as she gasped for air.
Her fear had become reality.
"K-Kah...." she couldn't even speak her husband's name, as pain surged through her body, forcing her down to her knees while his voice entered her mind, and agonizing images of the Master of Ren were forced into her consciousness. Valery screamed in pain and reached up to hold the sides of her head, but she couldn't stop it. The pain only grew more intense, and with every passing second, she lost more control over herself.
"P-please..." she cried, as teary, pain-filled eyes turned to Kahlil. "Make it stop..."
She screamed again, but the pain only got worse, and flashes of Kyrel's anger in her fiery eyes started to drain her from who she was. Valery finally collapsed, no longer able to endure what was happening, and twitched, flinched, and moved her body into unnatural positions as if a demon had possessed her.
But something far worse than a Demon was trying to take control of her.
Cora's lightsaber met no resistance as it came down upon the clone's neck. The doppelgänger simply vanished into nothingness, as if it had never been there at all. It was jarring, almost. Almost.
A blast of slugs pierced through the Tegan copy she'd kicked away, and that one too disappeared. Yet instead of dissipating into the ether, the duplicate dispersed into a sickly purple mist.
Cora's nose wrinkled in distaste, but she'd quickly tracked the shots to Dominick, noting that the agent had been chased away from his vantage point. Her head tilted towards him in a curt, firm nod of thanks.
Then, her pupils dilated unnervingly wide. The world seemed to rock around Cora as if she were caught in the rough undulations of an untamed sea. Everything blurred, then came back into glaring focus. She didn't see the icy outline of a clone shoot into the sky, didn't hear the roll of thunder that followed. A few wisps of candy floss, now airborne from Jand's hurling of the snack cart, landed in her hair. Where she'd normally fret, Cora paid the sticky, sugary mess no mind.
Finely manicured blonde eyebrows scrunched inward. The whispers were not wholly new—she'd felt the similar lure of the honeyed, poisoned words when she and Valery Noble
had hunted down a corrupted artifact. Only then, a painful memory had been forced to the forefront of her mind.
Dominick's armored form wavered in her addled vision. Somehow, even helmeted, he'd taken on the visage of her father. Cold blue eyes stared her down, affixed to a stern face beginning to crease with age. Heat prickled the back of her neck as Malum's stream of flame blew past and Cora half-turned out of instinct. Her father's face had been overlain on the younger Sith's features, and even Jand wore the illusory mask of Marcel von Ascania.
Head whipping back to Tegan and her clone, they too had been replaced with the Viscount of Ukatis.
Eyes swirling in a drunken stupor as the vestiges of rationality fought to push the hallucinations from her mind, Cora's lips parted dumbly, allowing a most unladylike phrase to slip past.
"What the fuck?"
Even Dominick's dispatching of the clone's grenade fell into the background. Agitated as she was, the borrowed strength from Asmundr Varobalder
helped to ease her through this bad spice trip.
Before her, the witch oscillated between Tegan and Marcel. The change between her father's towering form and the gremlin's slight appearance was jarring enough for Cora to grab ahold of, to push the hallucinations further into the corner of her mind. Unfortunately, decorum was still on the back burner. With a tense jaw, her free hand lashed out and Cora projected an invisible grip onto the red and white striped tent behind Starfall.
"What did you do to me, you heinous wretch?"
Cora snarled, feeling supremely violated by the illusion. A telekinetic yank, and the tent's rough fabric would spiral around the witch, aiming to ensnare her tightly in the yards of rough fabric. Unbeknownst to the Padawan, Tegan had hit her mark, inspiring Cora's anger. Anger that made her bold.
Surging forward, Cora raised her saber and leaped into the air, charging at the witch with a vicious overhead strike.
Beyond Realspace, beyond Hyperspace, lay an inverse dimension where the void was bright and the stars were shimmering pits of darkness. Its planets were barren, long ago scoured of life by the death-worshipping Charon, and its cold emptiness stretched into infinity. Here lurked the Anti-Force, an energy field opposite to that of the one that bound together all life in Realspace. For inhabitants of the known galaxy, merely existing in this place was a maddening experience. Even those not sensitive to the Force could feel the wrongness of it.
The first time he had come here, walking among the dead husks of fallen god-things, Tu'teggacha had nearly lost his mind. The eldritch strangeness of the dimension had overwhelmed his senses, threatening to crack his grasp on reality like an eggshell beneath a hammer. But with repeat trips he had learned to endure the effects of this unnatural mirror of reality, to tune out the vileness that threatened to steal his sanity. He was never fully prepared for the horrific transition into this realm, but he was more ready than he used to be.
The twins were not ready. In the caretaker droid's arms, the babies began to cry.
The ground was rough - barren stone twisted into strange formations by forces that did not exist in Realspace. Twisted stalagmites rose out of it at impossible angles like a forest of jagged teeth. There was no life here, no wind, no sun, no sound. There was only the yawning paleness of the broken sky. It should not have been possible to breathe on this barren planetoid, but somehow it was. Physics did not work quite the same way here. They were all going to have to become accustomed to that while they made this dimension their refuge.
Tu'teggacha hobbled forward, the edges of his black robe scraping over the uneven rocks. His strange, misshapen feet slapped wetly against the stone with each step. The droid drifted beside him, placid, unfeeling, not reacting in any way to the weirdness all around them. They made their way to the slope of a nearby hill. At the top, a simple prefabricated shelter had been built - a place with all the necessities of life. The Taskmaster had prepared for this day, had stocked his sanctuary with food, water, and entertainment so he could ride out the storm.
The staccato bark of a blaster being fired shattered the eerie silence.
Tu'teggacha turned to see three of his prized Ebruchized advisors crumpling to the ground, smoking holes blown through their rubbery chests. The horrified Taskmaster looked back toward the portal, a gate he had expected to be closed by now, and there she was: Mercy, his former servant, his greatest enemy. She had followed him even here, beyond the galaxy. He could hide from anyone and anything else, escape Jedi and Sith and wait for the galaxy to change in safety... but he could not escape from her. He had to destroy her.
"BEGONE!" the Ebruchi burble-bellowed, hate and fear mingled in his watery voice. "GET OUT! LEAVE ME ALONE!" He lashed out with his telepathic abilities, his mastery of the Memory Walk. He already knew where to find Mercy's worst memories, the memories that made her want to give up and die. He closed his mental tentacles around them: the memories of the day Asher had been killed. He seized on the pain of those memories, on the agony of her loss as she watched Barran strike the final blow, as Asher's spirit slipped away.
He played those thoughts over and over, on eternal repeat in her head.
~ Shoot yourself, ~ he whispered behind the horrific images. ~ Die and the pain will stop. ~
-----------------------------------------
Kallan hadn't expected Mercy to appreciate what he was doing, had even anticipated her harsh rebuke. He wasn't doing it just for her; he was doing it for all of them, to keep the body they shared strong while they fought off their ultimate enemy and rescued the twins. He knew he could take it, because he had to. He had to play his part, to give everything he could. He wasn't afraid of hurting, only of failure. So he held on. He bore that pain, even when Mercy snarled at him, because he knew she would need her strength.
~ We can take it together, ~ Kallan whispered. He had learned what Asher had not - that it was okay to lean on other people, to ask them for help. And so, when Keilara offered to share the pain of that wound, he let her. He divided the pain between them, taking it away so that Mercy felt only a dull ache, one that would not get in the way of fighting. When she shot the Ebruchized, the injury in her side didn't throw off her aim in the slightest, even though it was a serious saber burn. That was Kallan and Keilara's gift to her.
But then the Taskmaster's attack came, and everything changed.
Bleak images slammed into the mind they shared, images of the day Asher had died... the day Kallan had almost gone with him. Kallan felt himself drowning in the sensation. He felt himself thrown back to the last time he'd been in his own body, watching the world go dark, watching Asher vanish into the netherworld. Mercy hadn't been able to save them both. Was that how this would end, too? With the darkness pushing in on all of them, slowing suffocating them? Would they die in this horrific dimension, cold and alone?
Kallan held his wife's hand tight. He fought to remember the good in their lives.
~ Stay with me, ~ he whispered, trying to endure, trying to give Mercy his strength.
But he knew Mercy was tired. She had been tired for a long, long time, and full of grief.
Could she go on this time? Could any of them endure reliving this loss, even standing together?
Thelma’s relentless battering of Marrow was interrupted by Asmundr Varobalder
‘s intervention. A reminder to maintain internal peace, even while she was quite literally fighting for her life, was enough to at least give her pause.
Her opponent took advantage of her hesitation, unleashing some sort of strange ability upon her. Thelma felt her blood begin to freeze in her veins, pain erupting along her nerves. She shifted the Force into a shield about her, finding safety in the very serenity Asmundr had advised. Her power was at rest; what Marrow would do next, she did not know, but she was ready for it.
Dominik was able to witness Cora dispatching one of the clones before his shots found the back of the other. He registered that his turned into purple mist and the other didn't, but didn't have time to worry about it. He wasn't sure if the chemical compound would work on freeze the clone that had rushed him. He turned back to find the frozen outline, raised his gun and fired. But then it shot into the air, far into the clouds above. His slugs sailed past it. He reloaded with extreme efficiency as his sight lingered on where it went.
Then rain began to fall. That was interesting. The ice on the clone would have been a chemical compound, not water. But the rain fell harder, a downpour that drenched the entire landscape, the dry gray dust turning to mud. A candy cart was picked up with invisible hands and thrown, Jand Talo
's doing. And as it saild right by Corazona von Ascania
his stomach tightened as it almost hit her. But she simply stood there, looking at him, then Jand, then to Darth Sokar. She was almost in a trance, face white.
Then the last clone hurled a grenade at her. "Cora!" He shouted, dropping his sidearm to the ground. He raised his Cryo Projector to his shoulder and took aim at the flying explosive, his instincts and eye calculating trajectories. He squeezed the trigger and let off a blast of freezing goo just as blaster fire slammed into his armor, bright sparks sizzling into the dark air. His shot hit the grenade a mere foot from Cora and the force took it away from her, so at least she was safe.
The blasts kept coming, and although weak he wasn't braced for the torrent of fire coming at him. He was knocked to one knee and a couple of the bolts found the cracks in his armor, hitting the underlayer. The heat cooked his skin. He grit his teeth and rolled through the mud, dropping the Cryo Projector and snatching up his sidearm. For a brief moment he wasn't under fire he located the clone. He quickly became under fire again but he knew where she was. He raised his weapon and fired another three shots, dispatching that one into nothing.
That purple mist must have done something to her. But she seemed to snap out of it enough to grab the entire tent and pull it towards Sokar. And as he looked to her he saw what she had been drawing in the ground before the canvas enveloped her. A circle. A magick circle. He didn't know what for, but this woman was dangerous to the extreme even without preparation. And Cora was jumping right for it, blades drawn.
"Cora! Wait!" He shouted. He ran forward through the mud but knew he couldn't reach the circle before she did. He raised his sidearm again. clackclackclackclackclackclackclackclickSlugs flew not at Tegan Starfall
but the ground around her. He didn't know a lot about magick, but ruined circles he knew were bad news for their creator's plans.
"Mmm, haven't had a vacation since da fighting pits of Nar Shaddaa... beach?" Mercy shrugged. It wasn't exactly her jam, but she was always up to try something new, she reckoned. Besides it would be amusing to see Maijan sink like a stone in the water once she tried to swim. That would be enough to make it worth it for Mercy.
She let the comment on being a poser slide.
Maijan earned that one.
With her... well, maybe it wasn't quite loyalty, but it was something in the same ballpark as far as Mercy was concerned. As the lithe woman tranced herself with the sweet liquid poison in her veins, Mercy wandered back over to the console. She waited until the go-ahead was given and Mercy activated it.
Almost immediately the slicing hack got to work.
Taking over systems and rerouting control straight to this console and away from any other parts of the system. She started the procedure to disengage the locks. "You know, I really did wanna see what the Alliance was planning with that scheme-y station ya sources in the SIA mentioned. It must have been some weird karking chit if the Jedi were involved, yeah?"
"I'm alright..." The Nautolan wasn't being honest in the slightest, but he truly hoped that if he told himself he'd be okay, that he would be. Rhem felt conflicted on this mission. On this planet. But it had to be done, even if he didn't want to.
"We definitely deserve a vacation after this, though." It was a half sigh half mumble, not that it lasted. His words trailed off as she brought something else to his attention.
He stopped in his tracks, head-tails shifting about slightly as he took it in. The heaviness of the air around them, the aura of darkness, it almost made him nauseous. "Yeah.. but I can't.. pinpoint it..." Sweat beaded on his brow a bit as he tried to focus on where the aura flowed from. "It feels.. familiar...?" He sounded uncertain. He felt uncertain. This entire mission was filled with uncertainty.
Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom Mongrel's Shadow and his widow; Matriarch of the Scar Hounds Tribe; Guardian of Mongrel's armour and sword
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...
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...
Arage Bao Valery Noble Cynthia Alucard Henna Sarratt Asmundr Varobalder Kahlil Noble Grand Shepherd Burtch Kyrel Ren Marlon Sularen Y'sanne Stradd 12x Noble Edition Y-Wings (Gold Squadron) Then Gold Squadron had not had much time to get to know their new commander during the trip out to...
Arage Bao Valery Noble Cynthia Alucard Henna Sarratt Asmundr Varobalder Kahlil Noble Grand Shepherd Burtch Kyrel Ren Marlon Sularen Y'sanne Stradd 12x Noble Edition Y-Wings (Gold Squadron) Then Gold Squadron had not had much time to get to know their new commander during the trip out to...
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...
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 (?)...
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 (?)...
THE EMPIRE IMPERIAL SPECIAL FORCES Enemies: Galactic Alliance | The Sith Order | Brotherhood of the Maw | Corin Trenor Allies: The Empire | Ashlan Crusade | Eternal Empire Equipment: In Bio "Why do they always talk so much?" She rhetorically asked her companion, ignoring the Jedi's remarks...
Cordé Sabo It should have hurt. It didn't. Even as the sharp edge cleaved into her wrist Verin couldn't feel anything. Not over the waves of pain roiling through her. That was bad news, but Verin didn't say anything about it. There was no need to worry Cordé even more. The poor girl seemed...
Cordé Sabo It should have hurt. It didn't. Even as the sharp edge cleaved into her wrist Verin couldn't feel anything. Not over the waves of pain roiling through her. That was bad news, but Verin didn't say anything about it. There was no need to worry Cordé even more. The poor girl seemed...
______________________________________________________________ D U L C E T TASK FORCE NULL | EXEGOL | ????? ______________________________________________________________ fa-play fa-pause “I'm not worried." Cordé argued. Her words were tense and hard, but her voice was soft. " Because...
Location: Sith Citadel Objective: Escort the Dark Lord │ Salvage Artifacts Direct Engagement: Nathan Bloodscrawl What he could hit, she could catch. Quintessa’s chakrams came back fast, but it was nothing that the Aspiring Sith couldn’t react to, not only through her attunement to the weapons...
Location: Sith Citadel Objective: Escort the Dark Lord │ Salvage Artifacts Direct Engagement: Nathan Bloodscrawl What he could hit, she could catch. Quintessa’s chakrams came back fast, but it was nothing that the Aspiring Sith couldn’t react to, not only through her attunement to the weapons...
Location: Sith Citadel Objective: Escort the Dark Lord │ Salvage Artifacts Direct Engagement: Nathan Bloodscrawl What he could hit, she could catch. Quintessa’s chakrams came back fast, but it was nothing that the Aspiring Sith couldn’t react to, not only through her attunement to the weapons...
THE WARDEN LIGHTPOINT STATION || MEDITATION SPHERE PHASE II: LANDFALL BATTLEMELD ACTIVE Zark’s departure left the room empty, cold, and more clinical. More station than anything. What had been a moment was now just…a room. Asmundr drew in a deep breath, and resigned himself to his seated...
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~ Mercy ~
In the first few moments, I didn't even perceive what this place was, I didn't look around, only at the goal that was in front of me. But when Tu'teggacha's three companions fell to the ground dead, I was suddenly struck by what this place was like. I probably wouldn't have been able to stand it if I hadn't spent enough time as Freedom in Oblivion, the part of the Netherworld that Omni ruled. Even so, it was hard to see all these twisted things, it all made no sense. My mind tried to make sense of this chaos, which gave me a headache. Somewhat it was wonderful and terrifying at the same time. The effects here made it extremely difficult to pay attention to the Taskmaster.
In the next moment, I sensed that the image of my helmet, which showed the outside world, was beginning to darken. MANIAC was set on the HUD so that I could not see the horrors outside, only the immediate environment. All that was behind the Taskmaster was lost in darkness, all that was beyond the rocky road was shrouded in darkness again. Through the HUD, I could see the ground in front of me, the strange stony road, and rocks. Although I wasn't sure if they were just stones and rocks. I saw only them, the three dead bodies, him the droid with the twins.
That helped, no matter how hard I tried to look away, I couldn't see anything but blackness. Even so, I was aware that there was something there, something unnatural, but at least I didn't have the opportunity to see it. And then he spoke, he screamed at me. I shook my head. I couldn't go, the twins had to meet their father. Or if not, then… Kallan and Keilara had to raise them without me.
I knew what he would attack with, I knew the stories about him, I was prepared; I had time for it. It didn't start when Asher died, it started much earlier. When we became lovers, I had to start learning to protect myself and him from the Taskmaster. I had years and he didn't even know it. That's when his first attack hit me, I fell to my knees...
... but he couldn't know one thing at that time.
~ Keilara ~ ~ I'm proud of you! ~ I whispered to Kallan and it was like that, I was proud of him and the change that happened to him, that he walked bravely along this bumpy and painful road.
I said the moment he shared the pain. I moaned very softly for him when I felt the pain. Not because it was so heavy and strong, but rather because of the sudden feeling. So that the two of us, or maybe all three of us, shared this pain. It was tolerable and Mercy was able to move out there. I couldn't tell which world it was, ours or the other one. The point is that the children will soon be with us. But the hardest part was yet to come. We all knew what Taskmaster's strength was. I was hoping Mercy was ready for this.
Despite the shields, the attack hit us, it was mostly like Mercy allowed it to happen. I was completely part of her then, as I "died" from the pain, in Kallan's arms. So I knew exactly what pain it was when Mercy lost Asher. I know that she also "swam" into the darkness for him, to bring him out of there, to save him. But there wasn't enough time. I knew she still blamed herself for not being able to save both of them, only Kallan.
I felt tears streaming down my face because of the memories. Hurt. It was suffocating. The wound has been there in the chest of Mercy's astral body ever since, it bled then, and so did I. But mine was over, that I was separated from him, that Kallan was here with me. But his remained. Although he was no longer bleeding, there was an empty hole, as if his heart or soul had been cut out. Asher's place, the other half of Mercy's soul. A never-healing injury that only Asher could bring relief to, but he wasn't here with us.
~ Look at me, I'm not going to disappear now, Kallan. It's happened before, it won't happen again. We'll be fine. ~ I tried to whisper this to him as I held his hand and snuggled to him for a hug. ~ Everything will be fine. ~
Actually, I wasn't sure it would be like that. I squeezed Kallan's hand and embraced him, holding him close. As the darkness made bigger and bigger waves around them. I could hear Taskmaster's voice telling Mercy to kill herself. Would that be the end? With this? I heard Kallan's words, but I wasn't sure if he said them to me or to Mercy.
Soon, as a result of the repeated images, the darkness surrounded us in such a way that even though I held Kallan's hand and embraced him, I held him close to me, I could no longer see him. I was drowning too, but I didn't see pictures, I almost drowned in the cold and painful wave of feelings...
… then suddenly the pain and darkness seemed to ease. Light and warmth began to seep into the mind palace. I think this is the moment I realised that Mercy had a plan and was preparing against Tu'teggacha.
~ Hold on just a little longer. Stay strong, my love! ~ I asked him.
At the same time as my words, Mercy's power surrounded us as a kind of shield and began to push Taskmaster out of our minds.
~ Mercy ~
There was one thing this worm couldn't know, and that was that I found not only the greatest pain, but also the greatest joy that day. After the first attacks, blood started flowing again from my nose, eyes and ears. Just like when the physical and mental injuries he suffered then came to the fore. However, Taskmaster could not know anything. I have experienced the same agony every single moment ever since. Every single moment I blamed myself for not being able to save them both. I blamed myself for not being enough to keep him alive and for constantly letting him down. On almost every mission.
But someone else was there when he died. I tried to grab Tu'teggacha's mental tentacles and let him see all the other feelings and memories as well. Everything that happened then, that happened there and then. Also, that without the Force we were able to create a bond similar to the Force-dyad with Asher, that we became one in every sense, just like Kallan and Keilara later.
"If I die, only I die... Kallan and Keilara survive and raise the twins!" I snarled at him.
I let him feel Asher's strength, which was there in the memories, as he surrounded me with the last of his strength and radiated to me that "I am all yours". He could see the memories, the happy memories, that were paired with the same painful feeling, born at the same time. Because Asher's death resulted in a sixty-year shared and happy memory. And now I remembered them too. I held onto these, not the pain. Asher getting his body and then when he found out we were going to have twins, the happiness he felt was that for the first time in his life he was creating something, creating a new life and not taking it away from anyone. The memories, the way he is with the children, playing with them, teaching them. As he got the happy life and I could see him happy while we lived together and loved each other. Sixty years as we grew old by each other's sides. This wasn't just a dream, it was reality because of Solipsis's ritual.
~ You failed, Taskmaster! ~ I told him in a pained voice in his mind. ~ Only Asher died on Tython, but his original personality survived…Kallan. You thought you had broken him, erased him. You were wrong. When Asher decided he wanted to give me more than what the Mongrel is capable… Kallan woke up and became himself again. I couldn't save them both, but the person who became your favourite masterpiece has lived in my mind since Tython, with Keilara. Yes, she was my original personality, Ziare and I “born” from her. Ziare melted back into her… the three of us. There would be four of us, but I gave Freedom to Manifold. Do you think you were the only one who learned things about me while you were teaching and mentoring me? No… ~
Amidst the pleasant memories and my words, I tried to reach into his mind unnoticed through the channel he had built between the two of us.
~ Kallan wants to live and will live, he will get back everything you took from him. I won't commit suicide because of him... because of him I've persevered so far. And yes, it will end… because when I'm done with you, I'll go find Asher, we'll be together! ~ I snarled at him again.
Now there was no point in hiding the fact that Kallan existed, let this worm's own defeat hurt even more to him. I tried to protect Kallan and Keilara with my own strength. Then I tried to do the same thing he did to me. Even though I wasn't a Force user, just a telepath and an empath, if I managed to get into his mind through his mental tentacles, I tried to recall his worst nightmares, his worst memories. Let's see how this little green worm reacts when his own weapon is used against him!
I would like to believe and think that I was a great student and learned enough from him to be able to do this.
It was the destruction of Csilla that had drawn Jedi Master Kadann back from hiding. He had fled as the One Sith had scattered the remnants of the Republic, been hounded by One Sith trackers for months.
During those first months back, he had tracked down those who had destroyed everything that he held dear and made them pay. Many of those Sith had not even joined the new Orders that had come together to destroy Csilla, but he had made them pay anyway.
Kadann strode down the ramp and stopped as his boots touched the surface of the world. It was a place of darkness. He could hear the sounds of battle, could see it in the sky above.
He would bear witness to this. The turn as the light pushed the darkness back to the shadows. He knew that the work would not be done, that few had the stomach to finish the job. It would be the end of him, but he would see it through.
Kadann had walked a difficult line between the light and the dark. He had embraced his revenge and broken the Jedi tenants.
Oddly, here, at the centre of the darkness, he felt calm. He felt serene.
No concerns plagued his thoughts. There was only one goal.
They could not rest until the last of the sith were gone. Peace had reigned for a thousand years in the Old Republic. The closest they had come to success.
"I never understood a Sith's fascination with tombs and attempts to claim powers that were held within them." Kat stated, "be easier for you to just leave now. This tomb might be gone forever but right now, there is a war going on and while you might not like the Maw, I can't let you be and attempt to garner more power to use against the Jedi." While this Sith wasn't here to help the Maw, she was sure that whatever powers this Sith attempted to take, they would use to do and cause further harm. And from the looks of the battle, while the GA and NJO would recover, this would be a hard hit to them, they needed time to recover from this final, all or nothing strike.
Kat sighed, "so, if you refuse to surrender, then seems that we will have to fight." It was not the optimal choice but the only one left to Kat.
A short, fast, hard blast of Force Push was sent at the Sith. Nothing significant but enough to stun them long enough for Kat to leap into action. Her robotic legs pushed hard, the repulsors lifting her higher than normal person could jump. She shortened the distance between them swiftly, coming in high and allowing gravity to assist in her first strike. Kat was attempting a disarming strike, removal of a hand or limb. End the fight swiftly and efficiently and still be able to imprison and hold the Sith accountable for her crimes.
The dark spirit of Kyrel Ren would inhabit deep into Valery’s mind. Often using her worst, painful memories against her in a myriad of haunting images that dare threaten to tear her psyche apart. Even bizarre images of Kyrel taking delight in causing Valery pain deep inside the recesses of her very mind. He would make her arms and legs twist. He would cause her to shake and writhe in absolute agony as he started to pour more of his dark soul against her own. Slowly he was starting to devour her from the inside out. His words through his booming raspy voice would send chills to her very core. “Look at me.” He would say as what once was her form standing in front of a steamed mirror would contort where it seemed she would transform into Kyrel internally. Her face twisting into the scarred and monstrous visage that was Kyrel Ren.
A lifetime full of rage and hatred would start to stained her very being as he started to put more images in her head. Exploiting even the most buried memories of pain and loss and sending them through her a thousand times over. He would make her body almost contort rising slowly up before crashing back down again. The animalistic hunger of the Wrath of the Maw dared to echo itself inside of her head. Showing her images of a dead Kahlil at her feet and her daughter by her side but looking more grotesquely similar to Kyrel as the little girl’s eyes flashed bright yellow. “There will be nothing of you… Only I will remain…” He said as the more he poured himself into her it appeared that he was starting to overwhelm her. “Continue to fight and I will break you all the same!” He would say with a sharp hiss as his spirit would claw against her psyche exploiting her worst fears to increase the pain inside of her body. “So weak…” He would say to her again in disgust as he slowly overpowered her.
Her body continued convulse and all the while Kyrel looked at Kahlil through her eyes, his eyes took over her own and it appeared black as the deepest parts of space mixed with a fiery yellow common of the dark side. The Wound was making gains to quickly toss her will aside. “The more you fight the more of you I take… Sleep now Valery, struggle no more and give me all of you…” Kyrel would hiss venomously and at the same time it sounded oh so similar to a madman trying to sooth her to sleep as he overtook her like a parasite finally breaking through it’s host.
It would have been a pained sight to Kahlil as Kyrel continued to make Valery scream, his darkness overwhelming the purity of her soul. Even the Knight of the Old Republic couldn’t fight back against unbridled rage the likes of which she has never witnessed. All the same she was being pushed out. The next scream that came from her was this time not her own, but a disembodied mixture of both Kyrel and Valery that would shake Kahlil to his very core. As Kyrel would override Valery the convulsions would stop only for her whole body to shake. Kyrel as Valery would look up at Kahlil and the mixture of Valery’s voice and Kyrel’s raspy boom would join together as one. “You lost!! There is no Valery only Kyrel!” The mixture of the two voices would let out a booming force scream that would cause the entire observation deck to shake.
Their blades met, sparks flying. The Dark Lord of the Sith was fury and ferocity made manifest, His speed terrifying, the precision in which He struck dazzling, and He relented only to renew with ever more vigorous blows. Though He only wielded one lightsaber, His skill was enough to meet both of her weapons in quick succession. She dare not lock blades with the Dark Lord, for His physical strength alone was enough to overpower; let alone when magnified by the Dark Side flowing through Him.
She was smaller than Him, and undoubtedly quicker. But His reach was long and the length of His blade was longer than she was tall. He was also unusually acrobatic, enhancing His movements with the Force to counteract the forces of gravity exerted on someone as towering as He was. Likewise, the Dark Lord utilized the Force to seize loose bits of rock and stone and hurl them at the Jedi Master like missiles, typically aiming for her legs and back whenever her attention was focused on His blade.
"You think this battle makes a difference, Jedi?" The Dark Lord's voice cut through their fight between blows, the sheer volume of His words as strong as a falling mountain. "The Alliance's triumph here today will be naught but ash in their mouths. The Dark Side cannot be contained, it cannot be beaten. We will rise, again and again, from within your ranks and from without, until all the galaxy burns. So long as the Jedi remain, the Sith shall live forever."
He struck at her, a blast of scarlet lightning accompanying His blade with tumultuous force.
"An individual may die, but the Sith are eternal."
She lifts a brow, her own pupils dilating as she focused on her prey.
"Not alone? Dear, I watched you this whole time... You walked through those war torn streets all by yourself, on the hunt for prey of your own. Why else would you break away from the herd if not to try and prove yourself? I have eaten the souls of people just like you, your force is so similar to them... Where is your master?"
Adeline had it down, she had eaten so many Padawans by now that their scent was a meal she knew well.
"Corruption? My eyes are normally amber, no need to insult me."
Perhaps to the surprise of the Jedi, the occultist puts her hands behind her back.
"Surrender? Sure... I have collected what I want, mmm most of what I want anyway."
Adeline has an emotionless face, simply waiting in the middle of the ground that was littered by the dead.
She'd done it. Kahlil watched with his one remaining eye as the monstrous form of Kyrel fell apart and crumbled. He felt them finally slip free, the souls the Master of Ren had claimed and tried to feed his own anguish. He could feel them around him. The chaotic waters he'd stilled before, now warm and bright. He let himself get washed away in that. Let the pain he felt from the burns fade in favor of the peace those souls had finally found.
For a moment, his heart stopped. The calm waters rippled as his silver eye turned towards her. Towards his wife. His best friend. Pain. He hadn't felt it under his own but now it was as clear as a brand pressed to his temple.
He forced himself to his feet. Put his weight on his charred arm and ignored it's protest as he stood. Started to stumble towards her. What was happening? He could feel it through their bond, but he didn't understand it. Couldn't understand it. The calm waters in the Force continued to ripple and stir, little by little.
"Just, stay close, yeah? We're not letting Vera have one parent when this finally all ends." This time he grinned, leaned over to gently press a kiss to her forehead.
Kahlil's eye widened, and the gentle ripple of the Force consumed him. Only the cold dark of a bottomless abyss was what he felt then. Anger, grief. All at once his worst fear was brought to life. Valery was gone. Gone. He couldn't feel her, not in their bond. Just Kyrel.
Gone.
Gone.
The room shook. Not just because of Kyrel, though. The railings around Kahlil twisted and curled, metal screeching as the Epicanthix just stared at the visage of his wife. The shell of his wife. All his life he'd been terrified of his Father doing that to him. That Carnifex would inhabit his body, eat his soul, and take his face. Never once had he thought it could happen to anyone else. Never once he thought he would see Valery's face worn by another soul.
Never once did he think he'd loose her.
Everything around him was thrown back as the thought crossed his mind. That she was gone. That she wasn't just gone, consumed. Not even one with the Force. Gone. Erased. His expression didn't change, but he couldn't stop the world itself from shattering under his grief.
TRIBULATIONS OF THE WILDCATS V: A DEATHLY POGROM - PART 5
SOLIPSIS BEACON-SQUARE, DISTRICT OF THE TITAN, THE SITH CITADEL, EXEGOL (SUMMER 878ABY)
'Oh!'
Quick to catch on with the mortals' rundowns, the Valkyrie was quite fortunate in her coherence to see where the Tuath and the Yinchorri were going with their little revelations, replying,'In fact, if necessary, I can teleport a small team into the inner parts!', in the understanding of their shortage of time they had to work with by then. However, the reactions would differ between the two humans, as the responding demeanour in the Anaxsi had grown slightly morose in contrast to that of his Goidelic acquaintance, seeing a part of the picture that neither the Kellas nor the Saint could see for themselves yet as Eina continued,'Let's go, it's time for us to do our part in the fight.', trying his utmost to hide it until the moment it was pertinent to have it out for the sake of the others.
'But if you decide, Lord Aron, that you want to go in sooner, than later, we can fly in or teleport in.'
It was time to speak up, as there was dwindling need for Alexandre's presence as the roadblocks were consistently swept aside by the acquaintance of higher power, eliminating the need for artillery, mass assault and the explosive charge the Yinchorri intended to set and detonate along with everything else; regardless of his senseless urge of willingly resolving to great risks for the sake of the Tuath and the Ashlan, who, in turn, were resolving to much greater risks for the sake of everyone else, casting caution to the wind in the hopes they ensured a safe escape for every honourable soul on that ground that day. The sight of approaching Wildcat officers in the distance all but sealed the parting of ways soon after, and in stepping forth to speak, it was clear to Marchal that Gowrie sensed a parting of ways as well, bowing his head in act of conceding the proverbial speaker's floor to his new friend.
'SEND A RUNNER BACK TO THE COMM-LINK RELAY!!!! THE MAJOR-GENERAL'S ALIVE AN' UNHARMED - MOVE IT!!!! GO - GO - GO!!!!'
'Lord Aron, I need you to listen to me.... I think you should accept the Valkyrie's offer - but it will mean you and I will be parting ways in the moments after your team is assembled. Should only take a minute or so with that lot bellowing around the place.', the young Sergeant started, pausing with a light chuckle at the Free-State elements' erratic behaviour, though primarily to take the time to light a cigarra whilst he internally framed his justification for splitting off so suddenly from the endeavour. Then after a few draws of the Governate brand, Alexandre admitted,'The ground troops need all they help they can get, and I refuse to leave our comrades unprotected.... I'm not built like that, sieur. Not that you are either, but my point remains. I must think of the fight we came here to endeavour first and foremost - I know nothing else, mon ami. So I stick to what keeps me in the fight, understand?', passing his hipflask to Lord Aron with a trusting nod as he awaited the Tuath's promise.
'I understand, Marchal. I commend it actually, an' don't worry - I'll babysit 'er for ye. As you will babysit mine for me.... Get our boys an' gals ready t'hold, weather an' counter, dishing the Mawites a taste o' their own medicine. Essentially - what Imperials do best. Now go drink some whiskey an' show our comrades how it's done!'
Exchanging hipflasks and a brotherly handshake, the Sapper briefly turned his gaze towards the Saint and concluded,'Be safe out there, cherie.... And good luck to you both.', as he started backpedalling eastward in a slow cadence, turning round only when he was done talking and bowing his head respectfully to L'lerim-Vandiir and Gowrie in quick succession. Gone by the time the the other Goidels started crowding around their Major-General, the young Sapper would likely be on his way towards the sound of smoothbore barrels firing off in the north-eastern shoulder of the embattled district, ready to aid in whatever way would suit his skillset the most.
'So what's the plan, Milord? We're stocked on proper armaments, ammunition up'tae the eyeballs, an' we've got Guardian Comp'ny standing by - aw ready an' raring t'go!'
'Get them up here the-noo, an' a couple IFVs fully-loaded if ye can, an' by the way - you're taggin' along an'aw.... Anything more is just wasteful though.', the Kellas quickly shot back in reply, checking his own ammunition supply for the Fragarach holstered at his hip as yet another runner sprinted off westward with the wind at his back. Then as soon as Lord Aron turned to make eye-contact with Eina once more, he finally decided,'We're going with the Valkyrie on this one - teleporting beyond Hell's battlements for the fight of a lifetime together!', bowing head in reverent kindness as the gravity of Gowrie's choice seemed to do little but spur him on even more intensely. After all, the Kellas was a gambling man by nature, taking the mythical-creature epithet to heart in all it's anomalous quintessence, and the closest anyone came to killing him was on Korriban, an experience the Tuath would be forced to remember every time he looked in the mirror.
A very specific coupling of adversity and pain, a career-defining like that had even proven potent enough to aid Lord Aron in going above and beyond himself on Mongrel Hill as well - a thrilling, combative apotheosis of which Lord Aron constantly strived to experience again.
'Thats the thing about Goidels, Valkyrie.... Doesn't matter who I snatch up for the task, every last one o' them are ready for the impossible, an' every last one o' them covet it's wonders. After all, there's always something to be learned from life's greatest endeavours, always has been - an' the only thing one needs then is the eyes an' ears to offer earnest for it.'
Jand Talo
,
Corazona von Ascania
) . Especially as he felt a vitriolic curdle of pungent Force form from
Thelma Goth
. 
Amani Serys
,
Ala Quin
,
Zark San Tekka
and
Ishida Ashina
. 
Valery Noble
|
Kahlil Noble
|
Capris Halcyon
|
Rhemti Totriddiam
|
Kat Decoria
Jem Fossk
Cale Gunderson
and
Aleksandr Stirsea
against their violent adversary.
Jannik Morlandt
|
Henna Ashina
Jasper Kai'el
,
BB-610
and
Minerva Fhirdiad
and direct that productive thrill to reinforce Strike Team Tano. 
Arage Bao
