Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Annihilation Final Eclipse | GA Annihilation of Exegol

Vilu Kopma Vilu Kopma

This was not a healthy place to be for a profit-minded individual.

Frankly, it only proved to show him he had been right all along. The Force was something other and something evil at that. The Citadel was steeped in it. How long before the Imperial Knights would have devolved into this display themselves? He wasn’t sure. But Max knew you didn’t get this much power and not be left corrupted by it.

Just a matter of time.

So maybe it was a good thing their Empire fell.

The only way to repair the damage after the Knights had seized control alongside their messiah Fel.

When the two pairs of boots hit the ground Max froze. He had dismantled the control panel and was currently seizing control over a particular area. The armory. There was a ship waiting top-side that would take him and any loot off-planet.

Hopefully before things went chest-up.

His hands rose calmly and before answering Max shifted around. Well, that was surprising, it was a set of stormtroopers. Once Tallies made sure that the Corporal had the man in her ironsights, he’d move through the corridor to make sure there were no other surprises waiting for them.

ISB Agent Baize. In charge of logistics in the Administrative Zone Aurek to Dorn.”

Max was extremely calm for someone that did not seem to be armed.

Currently on a clandestine mission while wishing I was back in my office having some tea. And you are?
 
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Wearing: Armor
Equipment: Lightsaber
Location: Maw Freighter
Tag: Darth Temerant Darth Temerant | Velda Nar-Donna Velda Nar-Donna | Darth Wallgof Darth Wallgof | Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren | Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren | Escape Jara

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When Cybelle had been in mortal danger on Chandrila her first thought had been to reach through the Force for Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren while his presence drew ever closer. To warn him away. To tell him one last thing—A secret thing that had always lingered on the tip of her tongue. They were Jedi Knights. They were too young. They were breaking tradition, displeasing his father, and falling through a vortex of mystifying affection that overwhelmed on the best of days. But…

She loved him.
Not in the casual, superficial sense that younglings tossed about, but in a way that made the earth move beneath her every time he glanced in her direction. Gravity, flipped. She couldn't explain how Brandyn had always felt familiar to her or why it felt less like she was getting to know him—And more like remembering who he was. Every smile, every whisper, brought her to the impossible conclusion that…Perhaps she had known him before. Perhaps, she had loved him before. In another time, a different place.

Some other existence.

This time…She had no words for the man she loved. No telepathic plea. No last note. They were swallowed by a muted gasp that was choked to nothingness with sudden agony and surprise. The arm that wrapped around her body when her legs gave out was not the arm she longed for, but, the helmeted stranger seemed content with the knowledge that she could no longer fight back. If the pain had been agonizing with a glancing blow…This was beyond anything she had ever known. With the Force still running through her Cybelle was able to piecemeal some semblance of self…But it was just prolonging the inevitable.

The Hapani shivered in the grasp of the Sith Knight and slender fingers reflexively curled into his armor while she slowly experienced her body stuttering and shutting down. It was beyond the notion of intense. All-consuming. Like white-hot knives piercing every inch of her skin, as if, she might burst with pain. Cybelle felt like she was screaming louder than she'd ever wailed in her life…But she wasn't making any sound at all. There was silence, while her eyes burned, and unmerciful tears welled over and ran down pallid cheeks. There was silence…When the agony began to dull.

Cybelle knew it was her nerve endings. Or lack, thereof. It wasn't a good sign.

She coughed and grimaced at the coppery blood that welled in her mouth. Spattering, rose-pale lips while her head rolled back just slightly to take in the last person she would ever see. The topaz orbs that looked back at the man who didn't exist weren't filled with anger, or hate, but a gentle acceptance that was only mottled by an odd sense of relief. As the pain continued to fade…So would she. "…You believed me…", she murmured heartrendingly soft, flinching, from the effort it took to speak. "You believed me and you had no reason to. I see w-who you really are. Not what. Who."

He would have never had the upper hand so swiftly if he hadn't taken her at her word. It was a macabre thing to think about now, however, it drew an faint smile to what had once been a beautiful face. The irony. Cybelle saw him. She saw this Sith whose name she had never heard, nor knew, with two eyes that would never be able to forget what they had witnessed. Even…After she was gone.

"Everyone…E-Everyone has a moon one day. Don't forget that…"

The phrase triggered a memory. This…This she could give to Brandyn from afar. To both of them, really. A reminder not to get lost when the Darkside called. A reminder to be who she knew him to be—Not what the galaxy expected. She could suddenly recall the time she had spent on Naboo as a child with deceptive clarity. It was as if every memory that had blurred and crossed fact from fiction through time was easily at the ready. She could almost smell the sweet, citrusy air, and the words that she had shared with her childhood friend in all of her youthful ignorance. Cybelle gathered her waning strength and pressed the reminiscence through the Force so that she might leave her friend, her love, with something.

Even if it was only a flicker. A most precious, thing.

'Don't worry so much. Just think…You can be the sun…', a much younger Cybelle would warmly proclaim for the Sal-Soren child that came to visit her in every free waking hour he could cobble together. Something was bothering him, though, it appeared that he didn't want to talk about it. That was fine. They sat on the edge of a great hill that overlooked what appeared to be lemon orchards before it panned out into the bluest water, so blue, that the sky seemed a little plain. '—And I'll be the moon.'

'When night comes, just like the moon, I'll shine my light right back at you.'

It was childish.

It was the clearest time she could remember, knowing, that the Light was her way.

Her head tilted back down and rest with a thud against the cold armored shoulder of the man who had killed her. The warmth of such a simple and innocent memory sustained her long enough that she released a strangled laugh, kindly, letting that lightheartedness flow from her core. She did not glow nor did the room seem any different…But the stranger would feel it. Love in the purest form. Acceptance. He had torn the wings from a dove, broken them, broken herAnd it was still right.

It was…Right. Not harming him, not, breaking her word was the right thing to do. There was a hole in the galaxy. It felt like she ought to have known, expected it, but no one did. Cybelle knew as her eyes closed that adding more senseless death to the maelstrom that was Exegol was not her path. She wanted to stay more than anything. She wanted to ask, mouse-quiet, of the Force why it was that she couldn't stayBut she knew why. Cybelle shuddered as she weakened. Her voice was small…So very, very meek. Miniscule while lavender oblivion sought to steal her away. "…thank you for…staying with me."

Dying alone was her deepest fear.

Her hands slowly fell away as strength left them completely and her soon-to-be corpse became dead weight in the grasp of the enemy. He wouldn't ask for it, wouldn't think it. There was too much pride in him. Too many ideas that had solidified through time and tested trials that the young Knight could no longer focus on. Still. One act of kindness drove another—And if it was the last thing she did? If these were the last words she spoke?

She would do it with the truth of what was left of her heart before it gave out.

"I forgive you."

 
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Location: Leaving the Planet
Objective: Otherside
Tags: Michael Barran | Aron Gowrie | Tegan Starfall Tegan Starfall | Jand Talo Jand Talo | Dominik Borra Dominik Borra | Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania | Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr


Soldiers rushed to their general's side as she collapsed to the grated floor of the spider transport hold. One screamed out. "Medic!" The medic pushed himself through the gathered soldiers and knelt down next to the fallen General. He carefully rolled over her body as he gave Orders to those surrounding the body. "Back away! You go grab a Defibrillator! You go activate the medical droid! You come here and breath into her mouth when I tell you too." He felt her pulse very faint then began chest compressions in a rhythmic steady pattern. He counted just under his breath to fifteen then he gave the order give her breath. Three quick breaths and the chest compressions began again. A few times over and over until the Defibrillator arrived. He then ordered the soldier who had brought the Defibrillator to take over compressions as he prepared the device as he did that the droid arrived and began doing scans and monitoring her fading heart rate.

Darkness and cold is what she felt it wasn't the first time she felt death it was the curse of her family after all. Yet this time it felt different she felt her spirit fading, to what she didn't know. Something though was pulling away like small tug on a rope wrapped around your waist. She watched out of body as her soldiers gathered around worried. Panic on their faces as they watch the medic try to work miracles over her body. The pads of the Defibrillator were attached and Khaos felt the shock go through her body and as it did the tugging became more Jarring on her body trying to pull her away faster.

Then she felt a ghostly hand on her ghostly shoulder and then another. At her side her Sister Cord Starfall Cord Starfall and her Brother Magnus Damazki. With them was her father Atreu and Niece Genesis Draykin Genesis Draykin . All their eyes looking on her with a deep sadness in them. Then Cord Spoke. "It's time to go little sister." Khaos looked to her older sister someone she had always been Jealous someone who had broken away from their mother Tegan Starfall Tegan Starfall 's grip. She looked at her sister and asked. "Where are we going?" Cord just shrugged not having answer for her. "I don't know but we can't stay here anymore."

Khaos with hat made her ghostly form visible appearing before the soldiers and Medics. "Go home leave this place, this war is no longer yours to fight. Live your lives enjoy the time you have, I'm sure the Jedi will hunt you all like the animals they are. Still live as long as you can but move on from this place the Maw has fallen. Let me go, I am going to better place I think." She gave them all a reassuring smile as she faded away and her body began to decay into dust. The soldiers stood around for a moment deep lose in their hearts before one of them sent the order to the pilot to leave the world and take them all home.
 

The ground beneath them trembled, the ichor of Dark rising to meet the cleansing burn of Light as it swept over the surface of Exegol. As Cora rested her broken body against the corroding durasteel of the tent pole, she felt like a gnat caught in a fever dream. The Force surged and reverberated, caught in a desperate tug-of-war between two opposing ideals. Whatever was happening was larger than herself, much larger.

Starfall's cackle brought her wavering focus closer to the duel at hand. Jand had the witch by the throat, her body on the precipice of the mysterious portal as it flickered and crackled with unstable energy.

When the disheveled imp of a woman reached for the blade embedded into her shoulder, the Force flared in warning. Adrenaline flooded the battered Padawan's veins, seeping into her muscles, and Cora found herself lurching forward on instinct. Hand outstretched, she drew on the vestiges of her strength and the support of the Jedi Masters that ebbed through the air of Exegol itself.

Against the cacophony of war, all she could hear was her own ragged breathing.

Again, it was a battle of milliseconds. Time slowed as instinct took over, and a blunt manipulation of the Force surged from Cora's fingers and sought to push the bloody Tehk'la blade from it's path as it came down upon Jand.

She hadn't seen whether or not she'd hit her mark. Maybe she'd struck Jand by mistake—it wouldn't matter to Cora, so long as the other Padawan was alive.

On her hands and knees, Cora remained frozen with an arm lifted towards the Jedi and the Last True God of the Maw. Darkness crept into her periphery, narrowing her vision rapidly as the portal dissipated and Tegan vanished from Exegol.

Then Cora fell, face first into the mud.
 
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TAGS: Escape Jara
He did not know how to respond to the kind words pelting him. He could only listen, a primitive response coming in the shape of a murmur that reverberated through his core and taking purchase in his throat as even in death, she offered comfort, the vibration of his being sure to reach her.

A part of him wished to argue with her. To deny what she was saying, to tell her she was wrong. He knew her words to be misguided, clinging onto hope for a man who had none left. There was no moon to light his path, no hope But she seemed comforted by the fact... so he did not bother. That much was owed, at least.

And behind it all, the Dark Side rejoiced. He could feel it, almost hear it as it congratulated him on his strength, his devious ruthleness and subversion of the light. The more he tried to ignore its call, the louder it grew, a syren's call that welcomed him to dive into the abyss, that it might forever swallow him whole.

And a part of him wanted to. Considered it. Prepared for it...

"I forgive you."

It was just words. Three simple words... and his world was flipped upside down, as if an earthquake had just taken purchase in his very being. He could not remember the last time someone had spoken those words to him. Meant them. And still, a part of him recognized them, a glimpse into a life long lost. A vestige of a better time.

It was like a floodgate being opened... no, breaking as the cracks that had been slowly forming on the dam gave way crumpled under the ramming of her forgiveness. It deafened him to the call of the Dark as it washed over almost two decades of torture and supression, of pain and hatred. It was too much for him to make sense of, things long since buried beneath trauma and fear washing to the surface.

He snarled, head twistingmotions began conflicting inside a man who thought he had it all figured out. It was, of course, not enough to undo all the damage done, but a new truth was taking hold. One he'd known along, but forgotten somewhere along the way.

"Master... My sincerest apologies for interrupting, but you need to get out of there," X3 softly spoke into his comms. There was no sass this time around. For all the shit the droid gave him, he had a little more tact and class than all that.

He was met with silence. The Knight Inquisitor remained immobile, looking down at the woman perishing in his arms, faithful to herself until the last. It was his doing. His responsibility.

"...Master?" the droid asked meekly.

He took a deep breath. He had to focus... Find his center. Retake control. He was not some child that could allow his feelings to overwhelm him. He was the eye of the storm. The hunter in the dark. The man who built contingencies upon contingencies, always steadfast in the face of adversity. Always willing to fight until the bitter end. He was Temerant. And no matter what mayhem took place inside him, this was an immovable truth. And in this... he found a strange measure of peace.

"X3," he gruffed with newfound resolved. "Upload emergency medical protocols into my visor. Brace yourself, Cybelle. This will hurt," the man grunted before picking her up, lowering her with care alongside him as he took a knee, gently resting her back against it as he ran a med-scan on the wound.

He fetched a stimpak from his utility belt, wasting no time and injecting the bacta into the area surrounding the wound. It would begin to numb the pain and work its miracle properties upon it... But even then, he knew the gesture was almost futile. The feedback from his visor suggested catastrophic damage, the kind no one recovered from.

"It's not giving me options," he growled, almost as if in denial of the truths it was feeding him. He had to try. "...Run me through the procedure," he demanded then.

"Master..." the droid softly began.

"Just do it!" he snarled into the comms.

There was another moment of tense, uncomfortable silence.

"For-forgive me, Master. There is nothing you can do. Not from there. Even if you somehow managed to get her off the freighter and into a bacta tank... It would be too little too late. You did too good of a job," he lamented, even if mildly confused by his Master's newfound fervour to save the girl, when but moments ago he'd been trying to kill her. When he'd killed so many.

It was a bitter irony all unto itself. That in this moment of clarity, he found himself defeated by his own hand. It didn't matter how much he tried to fix, even to create things. He'd always manage to break them.

He pressed a pressure pad in his glove, forcing the cover of his helmet to retreat into the suit, only to reveal the upper half of his features. He didn't need the biometric feedback to remind him of what he already knew, to accurately count down to her demise, taunting him with the inevitability of what he'd caused.

He couldn't be that much older than her, the man in his mid-twenties, late at the most. His skin was naturally bronzed, the sides of his head shaved to a fade as he contained the waves of his jet black hair neatly with a knot on the back of his head. He might've once been considered handsome, and yet, there was an inherent harshness to his features that distracted from such things, that hinted at the tale of a man forced to harden his soul to granite, to place a cage around his heart, that no one might reach it... And that it might reach no one.

It was in his eyes: pale and terrible, a gruesome scar running between them as it traced a jagged trail from his cheek to his forehead. Framed by a perennial frown, there was no laughter line in their edges, no signs of happiness having ever landed upon them. Much like him, they were cold and distant, like a pair of ocean planets frozen over, a cruel intelligence swimming beneath the surface like a fearsome monster, banging against the surface in a bid to unleash its vicious fury...

But for once, the monster slept in the depth whilst turmoil took a hold over the glacial gaze.

"I-..." he cut himself off, mouth dry. "There's nothing I can do, Cybelle," he grunted. All he could do was stay with her in her final moments. The bacta would at least ease the pain and provide her some clarity in them. "I..." he paused again, as if the words required a tremendous physical struggle on his behalf. "...I am sorry," he managed at last.

Their sound tasted strange in his mouth. He did not remember the last time he'd apologized for anything, as if his entire identity might collapse should he lower himself to such. And still, he was not broken by them, a small relief running through him instead.
 


Objective: Strike Team Tano
Equipment: Lightsaber
Tag: Adeline Noctua Adeline Noctua


"If it is their decision that the best way to handle you is execution then I will respect that." Dreidi was not against killing threats deemed too dangerous to be left alive. Her gaze steel as she showed no regrets with her decision, the words spouted by Adeline were typical anti-Jedi nonsense that many Sith throw around.

Dreidi shook her head, "it is not a herd mentality. You killed these people, boasted about it to me, how you have seen through their eyes. You attempted to attack me as well." Dreidi growled, this innocent act didn't work when you have already attacked the person. "You cannot stand there claiming that you are just suffering from being different to the Jedi. I am different to most Jedi yet I am accepted, not attacked or jailed. You are a danger and a threat to peace."

As the Sith moved to attack her, Dreidi took a strong defensive stance. Blocking the strong blows that came at her with the years of training, making sure she was agile on her feet. Her Lightsaber struck back at the Sith, falling into Form 5 with the reverse grip.

"I am not here to kill you." Dreidi gritted through her teeth. All her strikes were disarming and non-lethal blows.

 

Xiveros

Guest
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Location: Exegol | Forbidden District
Target: Caedyn Arenais

This place was no longer safe, not for him, not for anyone. It mattered not how protected Xiveros was, how he was nullified to the Force and its will; his flesh was damaged, his body aching and protesting movement as he struggled to stand upright. "I'm fine, Jedi." He grunted at the man, stumbling slightly as he shambled a few steps about the area. There was certainly more going on here than a simple rehash of age old battles trickling through the years, something far larger and far older than Xiveros could fathom.

While of unnatural return, his knowledge was stunted and curated carefully. He only knew as much as he was fed, and even then, it seemed as if he was kept in the dark about a great many things, such as Exegol itself. A feeling stirred in the air that betrayed all former beliefs, an unsettling reality that Xiveros could be indeed harmed and touched by the Force - the Light.

Strong, but not that strong. He was as mortal as anyone on the battlefield now, in both body and confidence.

Not quite shaken to the core, but now rudely enlightened due to the circumstances at hand.

"An awkward moment, surely." Xiveros had mainly recomposed himself, despite his wounds. He was still weak.

"As it stands... you'd likely kill me if our previous scuffle were to continue. I could try to crush you..." He coughed, blood spilling from his lips and through his helmet.


"Forget it. Don't think I have much of a choice."

A few steps forward were made toward the Jedi. "What say you, human?"


 
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ɴᴀɢᴀɪ ᴅᴜᴇʟɪsᴛ


The monster descended into the depths of the portal.

That darkness, the presence, seemed to recede and lessen with each passing moment, as though the portal took Starfall away from any connection to the galaxy where Jand remained. While the Padawan didn't understand the specifics behind the portal, or where it led, it did seem to feel... different, disconnected, apart from everything else. With luck, Starfall would remain there, and not bring her darkness and misery and pain onto the galaxy again.

However, Starfall was not without a parting gift.

The Tehk'la blade was thrown back, as the portal closed and blinked out of existence, Jand did his best to move; yet, had all-but-used his reserves to keep the monster in the portal, and he knew he wouldn't make it in time. His own weapon spinning toward him in slow motion, but his body wouldn't react quickly enough. Impact was unavoidable--

!?

--when suddenly the Tehk'la blade angled, just enough to curve, as it sliced across the top of Jand's shoulder - tearing fabric and flesh - but not to the extent of lethality it could have. Instead, the blade landed beyond, in the mud, even as the Nagai turned and looked to his fellow Jedi - Corazona - and saw her arm outstretched and felt the final sensations of her control over the Tehk'la blade through the Force.

Corazona had used what she had left, to alter the throwing arc.

Jand turned from the - now empty - air before him, and stumbled toward his companion as he clipped his lightsaber to his belt. She was face down in the mud. With a grunt of effort, the distance was crossed, before Jand knelt down and grabbed for Corazona.

"Corazona, I have you," the Nagai said, as he pulled her up and clear of the dirt and wet. "You will be alright."

For several moments, Jand sat there and supported Corazona against him, so she could breathe and wipe away the mud as needed. Across the way, the stand-off between the Agent and Malum Marr - and now other individuals in armor - was at a high, which caused the Nagai to hesitate in launching to action, if only to avoid undermining the Agent's attempts at doing whatever it was he sought to do.

"Starfall is gone," Jand said in a low voice. He glanced down to her. "Something about that portal... it makes me believe it might be permanently this time. Inside it felt off, disconnected from here. I cannot explain it."

Jand narrowed his eyes at the stand-off.

He reached down and unclipped his lightsaber again.

If things went bad, he would do what he could to assist the Alliance Agent.

 

Caedyn Arenais

Guest
C

"There is nothing I stand to gain from your death" Caedyn Arenais responded to the Sith Warrior Xiveros as the Jedi Knight turned back to face the other; "I'm here to deter the Brotherhood of the Maw from further bloodshed. I did not come with the sole intention of spilling it myself. If I can avoid taking your life, or that of others in my mission then I will gladly do so...-Provided I believe the cause is just" he paused before concluding, studying the warrior before him closely.

Was it likely that Xiveros would go on from here with a renewed purpose or changed ideals? Likely not. A presumption perhaps, but one did not so easily turn away from the teachings of the Sith nor the allure of the Darkside of the Force. Were that the case, there would be far fewer battles to be shared between them and the Jedi Order.

Though his weapons remained in hand, the blades had been disengaged and remained inactive. He would not holster the pair of sabers, yet nor did he show any sign of intimidation or aggression towards the warrior before him. "You have the choice to walk away and live" the Jedi Knight informed Xiveros; "And if I survive this war, call on me should you wish to change your ways and leave the Sith. My name is Caedyn Arenais" he revealed, introducing himself as well as offering an opportunity for redemption should the warrior ever desire it.

"I must continue on from here. Others are suffering" Caedyn spoke with a sense of finality, turning once more away from the warrior; "Hopefully I won't regret this..." he added before his pace started to hasten. There were still thousands of willing combatants across the surface, and while the wall of Light was decimating the majority, Caedyn couldn't spare any more time at the possible expense of others still fighting.
 
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will you sink down to me?

"Last chance to tap out, Rio."

She pursed her lips, immediately imagining a response. "Well," she began to correct, "’m’sure you'll have more, but this the last chance for ya to do it wit' yo' 'ead."

Truth be told, Damsy didn't want Rio to take any of those chances—not because she thought she needed help, but because Nenral did. He had basically begged her to take backup. Of course, as a matter of principle, she wouldn't take any of her followers, Spawn or not, into an imminent annihilation zone. It didn't make any sense to potentially sacrifice the lives of those she had already saved from the Sith to the Sith.

So no Jarsa. No war worms. Nothing of Alchemical sort, or else of Naneti’s folk.

A certain Sith Auditor was the only alternative. All of the other acquaintances that she had made recently would not have halfway trusted in her benevolent intent. To be fair, Rio probably wouldn't, either, but at least on the surface their motivations aligned.

If he wanted to make a few structural citations or whatever on the way down to the Citadel's beast catacombs, then so be it. Better than him professing to her on the Jedi's tired duality of the Force, or running her around the halls in a duel that neither of them had time for; either way, wasting her time.

As they came to a stone staircase winding down into the keep's bowels, she snatched her lightsaber from her belt and switched it on. The red light bathed half of her face as she descended the stairs.

Halfway down, they started hearing chains rattling.

Then footfalls.

Damsy quickly disengaged her lightsaber, plunging them into darkness, and reaching behind her to stop Rio's advance just in time for a Mawite to poke their head through the threshold below and cast torchlight onto a short radius of cobbles.

Nothing…” the explorer mumbled after glancing around for a good few moments.

See?” a voice boomed from inside. “I told ya. Everyone’s outside. The action is much more excitin’.

The explorer retreated back through the doorway, slow as molasses, as if they didn’t fully believe their friend, or what passed for friends on this side of the galaxy.

Riordan Catlow Riordan Catlow
 
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As Jand hurled Starfall back into her portal, as he cast the devil from her perch and back into hell, little would he know what else awaited him and his golden-haired friend. Because in the darkness, another lurked. Maybe not as vile or destructive as the Last True God of the Maw, but twice as calculating and cruel. Because in the dark, Danton watched.

He bore no worry towards the Wall of Light. The rise of the Avatars, the secrets his master had taught him of the Dark Side, would be enough to safeguard him from the cleansing.

As for his battle with the sniper, he'd left them behind, seeing no reason or worth to engage with a being who couldn't even wield a lightsaber or draw upon the Force. He had bigger fish to fry, and they were both Jedi, weak and crumpled in the mud. Easy pickings.

His attack would come suddenly. A dagger would fly out towards Jand, threatening to impale him in the back. No doubt it would strike home, either in him or the girl he cradled in his arms. At least, so Danton wanted to believe. He knew better than to entrust everything in a surprise attack. He knew the Jedi would sense the dagger and swat it aside. He knew his ambush would not go as planned.
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Which was perfect. Danton wanted a challenge.

Whatever the Jedi boy did to survive, it made little difference. The Sith Knight would detach from the shadows he prowled in, emerging into the dim light of the circus, draped in his black robes and armor.

Masked or not, anyone could sense his wicked smile.

"Oh? What's this?" he drawled, circling the Jedi like a starving, nocturnal beast. "Two wounded sparrows, fallen out from their nest." His tone was mockingly sweet. "A shame the Sith woman couldn't finish the job. I was banking on her to clip both your wings, but I suppose I'll have to do it myself."

He raised his arm. Palm open, the lightsaber on his waist flew into his hand, igniting with a loud shriek, bathing the mud between them in crimson red.

"Would you be so kind as to offer your names? We should at least dispense with introductions before we move on to the killing. It's only polite."

——————
Allies: The Brotherhood of the Maw
Enemies: Jand Talo Jand Talo , Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania , Strike Team Tano
Objective: Kill the Jedi.​
 



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Wearing: Armored Jumpsuit, Synthweave Tunic, Utility Belt, Appearance
Equipment: Lightsaber
Location: Atmosphere of Exegol
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren , Cybelle Sal-Soren Cybelle Sal-Soren , Darth Wallgof Darth Wallgof , Darth Temerant Darth Temerant , Velda Nar-Donna Velda Nar-Donna , Escape Jara
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Leaving Brandyn behind, only to subsequently part ways with Cybelle, was not an easy decision for Briana to reconcile with, even with knowing that they had a mission to complete. A responsibility as Jedi, to act. To dither could mean the destruction of them all. Thus was the life and purpose of a Jedi.

And so, despite every natural inclination and instinct wanting to pull her back and protect those whom she felt charged to defend, she pressed on to the forward module, securing every room she could along the way.

Sweat slid down her face and caught in the strands of dark hair that’d escaped from her meticulously styled updo, slicing her way through lines of enemy droids that flew at her like a metallic wind, covered in showers of colored light erupting from the clash of her cerulean blade and the fritzing of wires, all the while counting her lucky stars that the swarming hordes were not made up of the Maw’s hollow eyed ‘moon children’.

Her brows furrowed, teeth grinding as she reached the end of her destination. Husks of smoking metal were strewn throughout the corridors behind her, but Briana knew her troubles were far from over. With each passing moment she could feel the shadow of death and darkness encroaching, eclipsed only by the faint blips of light she felt from Cybelle and Brandyn who continued to fight. Not just for the project, but for a more united purpose.

The hope of a brighter tomorrow. The true objective behind their mission.

Stepping toward the cockpits sealed door, the young woman raised a hand out in front of her, fingers slowly curling around some unforeseen object and into a tight fist.

Under the applied pressure from the Force, the door trembled and bent in a way that simultaneously granted her access and prevented it from ever closing again.

Then, as she crossed the threshold, a familiar dread coiled within her like a snake, a glacial chill moving through the atmosphere of the room long before she felt the warning from the Force.

A set of guards descended on her like a pair of hell bent juggernauts floating on an unseen wind, their blades whirling and whining with an adept skill and precision she’d never seen.

A symphony of death, harbingers of destruction.

“Shiraya almighty,” she cursed, feeling her resolve waver and her heartbeat quicken as they spiraled towards her, booted feet shifting to a grounded position as her saber slashed in an upwards arc to keep the guard's double bladed weapon from splitting open her skull.

Normally, Briana considered herself quite adept at reading the flow of battle, analyzing her opponents, watching for their patterns. With the two before her, however, she found them to be quite unpredictable in their movements. Unexpected, impossible to control.

Strong as they were fast, cunning as they were brutal.

As blades crashed, it became ever more apparent that every fundamental, biological element comprising these creatures' DNA had been designed to create the perfect predators, carefully crafted to protect the Maw’s most pertinent secrets.

While she’d been trained to face down many an enemy, Briana felt wholly unprepared for this.

One moment she was pressing the attack, the next she was on the back leg by several paces. Her arms were locked together across her body, rising from her waist to sit above her shoulders before bringing the brilliant glow of her cerulean blade into a defensive position. Not a place she usually found herself, nor liked to be.

Your arms are aching.

She tried to ignore the thought, but there was no denying that she was tiring. Between the weight of darkness that rolled in like vapors down a block of frozen air and the impossibility of tracking her attackers movements…

It was too much. More than what her training had prepared her for.

Staggering backwards from a block of her attackers blade, Briana was unable to tell if the crimson globs of viscera that snaked down her dominant arm was her own blood, or theirs. Fear moved in, dread ravaging her body and seeping into her very limbs, constricting the surety that’d brought her to this place.

Calm yourself.

She could almost hear Brandyn’s voice in her head, telling her what to do, trying to calm his sister as her emotions threatened to overrun her. Then she felt it, a steadying hand against her shoulder. That place in her heart reserved only for her brother, warmed. Her own hand reached up to grasp his, acknowledging a connection that had long been dormant. In that moment, she knew. Brandyn was there with her. He was always there with her.

As their connection solidified, the call of Valery Noble Valery Noble ’s plight reached her.

Kneeling to the ground in what appeared as obliged surrender, Briana closed her eyes and released a steadying breath, allowing her mind to merge with that of the Swords. A flash and explosion of light burst from the Force itself as she summoned the breadth of her own inner light, gathering it within her heart and clenching down upon it until she could feel the light of every Jedi joined together - becoming a pure conduit to serve the Force, instantly dissipating the Sithspawn in a bath of brilliant luminosity.

Shadow becoming light.

Stumbling to her feet, her breathing labored, she moved towards the control paneling - her mind set.

If they couldn’t secure the project, she’d make sure they took down as many Sith as possible before this was over.

Hunkering down near the navigational controls, deft fingers flew across the paneling, apparently of the same mind as her brother as Brandyn’s voice echoed over the comms.

With a sharp and sudden jerk, the ship veered off its course - redirecting them towards the massive Wall of Light that began to engulf the planet.

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Wearing: Armor
Equipment: Lightsaber
Location: Maw Freighter
Tag: Darth Temerant Darth Temerant | Velda Nar-Donna Velda Nar-Donna | Darth Wallgof Darth Wallgof Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren | Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren | Escape Jara

___________

She might have passed relatively peacefully were it not for the sudden jolt from her ragdoll body being moved.

Ears that were usually keen as a fox had entirely missed the warning and her consciousness returned violently. Her face twisted, teeth sinking into her lower lip, while she did her best not to writhe or move at all. It could hardly be helped. There was a cauterized hole in her body that for all of the damage it had done—Also kept her alive. It staunched the injury, sealing it, so she wouldn't exsanguinate so swiftly.

It was a slow passing. Perhaps, by design.

Clouded amber eyes watched while the Sith Knight seemed to be fiddling with his utility belt. Searching for something. For what felt like forever…She didn't understand. Then, he injected her with a familiar-looking object. A bacta injector? Her Master was the head of a House of Healing on Naboo and she had spent a good deal of her formative years cataloging herbs, tonics, stims, bacta, and kolto. He spoke to his droid with determination…And it was only when the automaton begged forgiveness that dawning fell on her addled mind.


He was trying to save her.
Her already delicate features melted, softening, with the warmth of someone that was used to taking care of others. Not the other way around. The man of non-existence removed his helmet and Cybelle watched in silence. Her heartbeat was sluggish. She felt…So tired. Beyond the point of exhaustion. He was…Younger than she had expected, and yet, it fit the willful soul that she had danced around for the better part of an hour. She could feel the bacta in her system taking over pain management.

It was a stopgap, a band-aid, pressed over a hollow-point bullet wound.

His apology caused her eyes to squeeze shut for a moment. The way he spoke, paused and continued told her the depth of his sincerity. He didn't need to emote or weep for her to know that he meant what was spoken. Her right arm moved. At first, her hand simply fell with a pathetic thud to the metallic floor of the freighter. Cybelle…Didn't dare look down. She didn't want to know what the damage his lightsaber had done looked like. Feeling it was more than enough.

Instead, she pressed through weakness, through the haze, and let shaking fingers find his wrist. They wrapped around it and she swallowed hard while looking up at harsh features. She didn't see the scar that marred his face as garish, nor, did she mind what seemed to be an eternal frown. Actions spoke louder than words, louder, than an expression carved in stone. "It's a-all right Temerant…It's okay."


"I promise. I-It's okay."

She was too far gone to realize that he had never spoken his name. Merely, concerned with bringing some measure of comfort and closure. Cybelle murmured little things while her eyes closed again, perhaps, incomprehensible secrets to the universe between suppressed whimpers. Her chest rose and fell but a rattling breathing became uneven and choppy. Until it stopped.

The hollow chamber that had housed Project Jareth became impossibly silent. There was only the steady hum of the freighter to keep them company, while the sable-skinned man, was left to accept the aftermath of his actions. To see what had once been a shining star, distant and twinkling, burn out in its entirety. To know that he was responsible for it, even if, Cybelle hadn't blamed him at all.

A flicker of blue light began to spark from the wrist of Darth Temerant Darth Temerant that the young Jedi Knight still loosely held. It drew on the turmoil that existed in the Sith and began to spiral outward into Force Lightning that arced from him, toward, the body that still leaned against his knee. He would instinctively know to look for the deepest part of her wound. To follow the swirling red latticework through shatter point and press the Force itself into the cauterized hole in her upper abdomen.

To turn back the clock, to use, his refusal to let her die. She was wrong.
It wasn't all right. None of this was all right. Temerant sought to undo what had been done—And the lightning that should have burned what was left of Cybelle Elyance to a cinder had the opposite effect. He softened it. Pouring out his anger, and frustration, while maintaining a perfectly calm exterior. It was the mirror that never broke.


Cybelle…floated. Happy. Wherever she was, whatever she was, she was at peace. She knew that everyone she cared about would be all right. Nothing had any form to speak of but she was still herself. She was warm. Loved. Finished. Her path was at an end and her service to the galaxy was complete.

She, was complete. Done.

A sharp intake of air caused that break from reality to crash down around her while light-brown orbs met the cerulean-illuminated form of Darth Temerant Darth Temerant . Flashes passed through her. Memories that did not belong to her. He gave her not only the healing presence of the Force but part of his own life. The energy that surrounded them was overwhelming, bright, but marred by his indecision. With both combined—It was enough. Only barely.

He followed the Path of the Darkside.

But—His convictions were full of fissures and his metaphysical armor was littered with cracks that made it brittle. Spiderwebbing faults ran rampant and let something else press through the veneer of being the perfect warrior. The ice in him did not melt, but, the Jedi did not need it to. She could sense it. Sense the Light, surging forward and rising to the surface. Begging to be seen…Even if it was only for a moment. Cybelle could see. Somehow, she understood.

He had all the strength, power, and wherewithal to choose… But he couldn't do it alone. This ability was foreign to him, too new, and outside of his wheelhouse. There was the silent request for guidance beyond what instinct could provide, and Cybelle, was the only one who could give it. He could be the battery…But she would need to save herself.

At first, she refused. To take of him in order to save her own skin felt wrong. A defiance to the will of the Force. But… Leaving Temerant with her blood on his hands when he was in a position to do something about it was equally unacceptable. The wordless war of wills would go on for several moments before eventually one of them broke. Cybelle pleaded with him to
let her go…

But Temerant was outlandishly stubborn. Even in his own thoughts.

The blue light surged and slowly Cybelle began to grow stronger. Her wounds began to stabilize and an effervescent light in the distance caused the transfer to burn with intensity.
A Wall of Light. With every moment Temerant spent feeding her energy to repair the damage he had done she learned a little bit more about him. Faces. Names—Places. The Tsis'Kaar. A small Vornskr pup. The origin of his being and all of the difficulties that followed. Eventually, the Hapani could sit up on her own.

Darth Temerant Darth Temerant was…
Barely upright. "That's enough…", she chided him, finally, finding a horse voice through a flurry of tears that couldn't be helped. It felt like he would have given everything to right this wrong. Not merely to save her, but, to take her place if need be. Hands that were stronger than they had any right to be reached out to catch him while his form lurched to the side and she only narrowly kept him from smacking his head on the floor. She was still winded and deliriously sore.

But there wasn't a hole through center mass any longer. Just pinkish, newly formed skin, that was ever so slowly being covered by busy-bee nanite technology. They were reaching their limits. "You've done enough—More than enough."

Cybelle tugged her cloak from her shoulders and hastily folded it so that she could tuck it beneath the head of her murderer and savior, carefully, guiding him to close the connection. The blue light faded and the young woman sat on her knees with her shoulders hunched next to the fallen Sith. She was in shock. She knew that she was in shock…But her eyes had yet to adjust. Still, seeing with shatter point.

How long had he held his emotions trapped? Bottled—Until something so simple as forgiveness caused it to well over and implode? How long? The auburn-haired woman had seen enough of his life to make an educated guess. The things he had endured…She wept for. Silently. Without so much as a sniffle or a sound, she mourned the loss of his childhood. It was a fresh wound, for her.

It was the sharp turn of the freighter that snapped her out of a stupor.


She couldn't stay here.

Shaking hands reached for his tech, as close as she could get, and the same nanites that repaired her armor latched on and patched her into his comms. "X3?"

Her voice was small. Hesitant.

"X3…I'm going to clear a path for your Master to be retrieved.", Cybelle informed, turning, just slightly to pick up the small case that had fallen to the ground. Project Jareth. All of this…All of this pain over one piece of precious cargo that she had no idea what to do with. Leave it? Take it with her? The comm clicked, getting her attention, and she cleared her throat. "…Darth Temerant requires immediate and urgent extraction."

Her eyes fell on the Knight once more.
Pained. Not just from the lingering duel but because of a wealth of things there wasn't time to say. The Darkside possessed him…But the Light would protect him. He seemed to have access to both, though, Cybelle couldn't explain it if she wanted to. She leaned down and mahogany tresses slipped like a curtain to hide her face. "Stay alive."


"No matter what."

Her hand pressed to the floor so that she could force herself to stand and she immediately felt a sense of dizzying nausea. Her free hand habitually called for her discarded saber and she stashed it into the holster at her side before reaching for the hole in her armor. It was still there. A little smaller. But there was one on the front of her body and one on the back. It was…clear from the angle that something had either hit her from both sides—Or had run straight through.

True to her word she made her way to a control panel and set up a clear shot for X3 to have Temerant removed from the freighter. She hadn't overhead the plan previously but she had seen it through the shared tether. With the freighter having pulled out of the main firefight it should be much easier for his people to make it through. With one last glance at Darth Temerant Darth Temerant she departed from the holding area. She was weak. Holding onto the wall for support, Project Jareth in hand, but very much so on her way toward their shuttle.

Afraid they might suspect, or know her struggles, she sent her team only one phrase…


<<I have Project Jareth.>>

But what had it cost?

 
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Objective: BYOO
Equipment: Beskar Armour, Lightsaber
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren | Velda Nar-Donna Velda Nar-Donna | Cybelle Sal-Soren Cybelle Sal-Soren | Darth Temerant Darth Temerant | Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren

Wallgof laughed again, Brandyn was shifting angle to call out the disappointment from Naga towards himself. It was a smart ploy if Wallgof didn't already know how much of a disappointment he was. He wouldn't need Naga to step in and save him from time to time if he was strong enough, smart enough to win every fight. Wallgof smirked behind his helmet, "oh, I know what a disappointment I am to Naga Sadow. Do you understand how much of a disappointment you are to your own father boy? Did he even celebrate your rise in power?"

"I do not claim to be better than Naga, I just know that the Sith can be dealt after you are finished boy." Wallgof was remaining surprisingly cool under the pressure from Naga Sadow to win and kill as well as dealing with the art of fighting and sparring words with both the Sith lady and Brandyn. He was maintaining his composure for much longer than he thought possible. It must be the hard training that Naga put him through finally paying off. He was getting stronger, he wasn't broken and pathetic, this renewed energy made him feel even stronger than he had ever felt before.

Brandyn's spiel on what is love and how love made a person stronger fell on deaf ears. Wallgof could not care what this Jedi thought of love, what he thought love could do to a person. No, it was lies and foolish hope. Hope stemming from the fact that Brandyn saw himself as the hero, the noble warrior fighting the good fight, but he was wrong. "Such a noble warrior attitude Brandyn. Like every hero in every holoflick has ever spouted. But reality is not so picturesque. Your love is an anchor, pulling others down. Your dreams of being a hero will only get others killed, in fact, I bet Cybelle is all alone dying right now because you couldn't defeat me boy. This is not a hero fighting some monster film, this is reality and in reality you fail."

Wallgof laughed deeply and leaned back, unable to stop giggling like a child. Then as Brandyn crumbled, Wallgof was sure he had succeed in his plan but the boy was being stubborn. Fixated on his Jedi goals. A legacy of Jedi. Such a foolish notion. "You are no Jedi boy, you are merely playing pretend on borrowed time. I could have killed you when we first met, but I allowed you to live, to see through the lies of your family, of your Jedi. Clearly you are a disappointment." Wallgof was bitterly disappointed that this boy continued to fantasise about being some hero.

Feeling the ship lurch as somewhere, somehow, Briana is taking control of the ship. Plunging it into something that would be dangerous for Wallgof and possibly the other Sith aboard, though he cared little about their lives. "Seems you have welcomed my time to leave once more Brandyn. Perhaps next time you will be able to save the lives of others and not be such a failure of a Jedi." The dark snarl dripping with venom, if this boy wanted to play hero then let him see how much he fails in such a role. Heroes were myths, stories made by the power-hungry Jedi to seem more noble. "Or maybe you'll realise that playing hero Jedi is costing the lives of those you care about, like that woman you supposedly love. Think you should check on her instead of focusing your hatred on me boy, if love is truly as powerful as you claim." Wallgof snorted dismissively before looking to the other Sith.

"I don't care if you live or die Sith, but sticking around here and fighting doesn't seem smart move any more." Wallgof was not dying to prove his strength, he was smarter than that.

FLEEING! WE SHOULD KILL THE BOY AT LEAST! RUNNING NOW MAKES YOU LOOK WEAK, PATHETIC AND INCAPABLE OF DOING ANYTHING! YOU CANNOT LEAD THE SITH IF YOU RUN LIKE A COWARD! THIS IS NOT THE REASON I GAVE YOU POWER! Naga roared in Wallgof's mind, his head felt like it was splitting open as the two different minds battled for control.

Wallgof stepped slowly but surely away from the fight. I cannot stay. Danger. Some Jedi trick to kill us. Need escape pod. Will kill them all next time. Too dangerous right now. Maw letting us down. Losing battle. It was all Wallgof could think of and knew that he needed to maintain control otherwise his fight for leadership was over. His mind battling itself as he attempted to make his way to the escape pods.
 
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Location: The Netherworld
Tags: Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr


"Everything heals here," Asher promised. "Body, mind, and soul." The energy of the Valkyrja suffused this golden city of the afterlife, making it a safe refuge where broken things could be made whole again. The Smiðr, the builders, had forged it to be beautiful and strong. The Hvati, the warriors, guarded it against the dangers of the Netherworld; it was they who had protected Asher from the Mawite shadow entities hungry for his soul. And the Heill, the healers, eased all pain. They listened, and the counseled, and they mended.

They would mend the newcomers, too.

Kallan watched as Keilara's body took shape - a body so much like Mercy's, but without all the battle damage, all the marks of suffering inflicted by the Second Great Hyperspace War. They stood looking at each other, finally placed in bodies all their own. Kallan knew what it was like to be separated from the body he was born with, to be a passenger in someone else's mind, but having a completely new form was new to him. It was surely even newer to Keilara, who had been born in the body she'd just left. It would require some adjusting.

They would learn to adjust together.

"Finally," Kallan said, smiling as he took Keilara's hand, "it's just us." Though they were no longer present in the same body, no longer occupying the same physical brainwaves, he could still feel so much about her - thoughts and emotions, hopes and dreams. They were bonded on a level beyond just mental. Their souls were joined, and had been for a long, long time. They had no secrets from each other, no barriers between them. They were as close as two people could be. "We made it here. We're safe. We're free."

Across the street from Asher's machine shop, the foundation of a new building was taking shape, hewn from the raw soulstuff of the Netherworld. When it was finished, it would be a perfect copy of the house that Kallan and Keilara had dwelled in when they'd shared a mind, a cosy little home surrounded by a garden. A space all their own, but just across the street from Asher and Mercy. There would be room for the twins to go back and forth, to play outside, to have their own little adventures. There would be a place for everyone.

"We did it," Kallan said, smiling. "I love you."

Across the way, Asher watched as Mercy came to - and, for the first time, woke up alone. No other voices in the mind she had shared, just her, pained and pushed to the brink. There was a moment's hesitation in her, a surge of fear - what if this was just another trick, a cruel torment invented by Tu'teggacha? But no. Tu'teggacha was gone, and this was all true. Asher opened his arms as Mercy flung herself forward in a hug. "I'm real," he promised, holding her tight as she sobbed into his chest. "I'm here, Mercy. We're okay now."

As they touched, as the barriers of distance and death fell away, the bond between their minds was rejoined. Asher felt all of the sorrow and doubt, the pain and self-hate, that had built up in Mercy since he'd fallen on Tython. He grieved for that, grieved that she had suffered - had made herself suffer - because of his mistake. He wished that things had happened differently - that he had been able to push his mind beyond the Brotherhood's mental chains and just run away with her, rather than seeking out death to try to free her.

But he could not change the past, no matter how hard he wished.

He could only create a better present and future.

The energy of the Heill Valkyrja swirled around them as they stood there, settling into Mercy's skin, working its way deeper. It could heal the physical wounds quickly, take away the agony of that lightsaber strike and cover it with fresh, uninjured skin. The mental scars would take longer; they were not so easy to erase. But that was okay. They had all the time in the galaxy here. Through the mental bond they had just reconnected, Asher projected his love and reassurance. "We're safe," he told her, "and we're together."

"You did it, Mercy. You were so strong - stronger than I ever was."

"I love you, and I'm proud of you. You made it back to me."



Out in the galaxy, war and suffering went on.
But for these four and their children,
the struggle was finally over.
And in their own way...
... they had won.​
 

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"X3."

"We are arriving now, Young Mistress. He still has vital signs."

She'd been watching. All this time she'd been watching. Thousands of voices, none of them her own, had been snuffed out in the moment of her creation. Death had silenced them, all at once. A war cry to the galaxy that echoed deep in the Nether. Her first memories had been only that. The pain that ended in an instant to oblivion. It was their fault. They'd made her, this Maw. In a way, she was grateful.

But as she watched the cleansing light burn across the surface, she had smiled. A genuine smile. Sofiel had hated them, these creators of her. All her life she'd wanted to see their end. With X3 she'd been content with just watching.

Something had changed. Someone had changed. Temerant.

It should've been an easy win for him. He should've been done and out. Sofiel only caught the tail end of what was said. A voice, someone else, telling X3 to come get him. Who was that? Why had he failed? Why did it anger her so much that he was in danger?

Vortrhuz, the black winged familiar, stayed ever close on her shoulder, gently nudging it's white mask to her cheek. Right. Too much emotion, and she could loose the vessel. The grim and focused expression she had returned to the calm smile she always held. And her grip slackened on the terminal she'd been squeezing. Stay calm. Focused. Be ready to strike.

"Let me know when we arrive, X3."

Darth Temerant Darth Temerant
 
ogFEzsS9gIrqAhzref0NBKKvIu-b0UV7q37tY2IZqfe_nQotDWG7_lSjFa_Y97NQU0chkoBwkIQ6jcbXiaHhKwrK88M4NwlCBIjIBqB7E5VvYw61irSkNec4WziWD3ChIqE1CdrBLD9TIZM4UsIRvhU


PHASE 2: LANDING ON EXEGOL || CITY OUTSKIRTS
0xCqsaSZjBTr0EBjaZGuZ-AMEuK6YPRN8E5VpTAR29DJHvx1jLgJuuj1uRatA1XI_71eBagVh2n0dlXn_wR3uYTbsu-udS-OR0cEzI7KH1TGNHGVKTf8lh2lz7Y4lON38YpAusqJv-AeIXxWbQYLfvg
Allies: The Alliance, Strike Team Tano, Aleksandr Stirsea
Enemies: Brotherhood of the Maw | Sahar


"Oh I win? Sure." Cale would've been stupid to believe her, to take her at her word, she'd fought too hard to relent on account of something as simple as pain. They were more alike than they knew, orphans who'd been turned into weapons by those they'd trusted to protect them. There were great differences in their stories to be certain, but not enough that Cale couldn't sense something familiar in her. That familiarity, and of course pain, clouded his better judgment and coaxed him into approaching her.

He should've had his saber drawn, should've been ready, but he wasn't. So much was happening all at once, warnings of the planet's impending destruction, the fate of his companions still unknown, and the question of what he was meant to do with this woman all demanded his acknowledgment in a chaotic cacophony.


"Got a nam-" She didn't let him finish the question, striking like some swamp viper with her vibroblade and putting it through his foot. He grunted as fresh blood flowered from the wound, and for the briefest instant, he felt the tug of anger. It would've been easy to be angry, to lash out, but Cale looked down at Sahar as though she were a disappointment rather than a threat. Calm strength flowed through him, the half cloak that hung over his side seemed to move, shaping around an arm that was not there as fingers that could not be reached down and snatched the woman's blade hand at the wrist.

With the phantom limb, Cale hoisted her up like some petulant child and met her firey gaze with his own disaffected stare for half a heartbeat. With his true hand, he pressed the hilt of his saber to her stomach and thumbed the ignition, blue light painting both of their battered features for an instant before fading away as he shut it off.

If she didn't move it would be a devastating wound, fatal without treatment, but he still had every intention of taking her in alive for some reason.


"Name?" He grunted the question, pain in the words.
 
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Let it fester, let it rot. Let it spread and kill her from within. It had to affect her now, right? Piercing her body, infesting her blood directly, it had to. Somewhere in the back of her rotted mind she believed as much.

But it'd matter little. She felt something she'd never felt before. Her rot. All around her, the fields and lake of rot she'd painstakingly created, all her soldiers, everything she'd infested. She felt them burn. Then she felt hands around her throat. All at once Surea was pinned to the ground, her blade tossed aside. No, not tossed. Dropped. She raised her arm, or at least tried to. The metal limb had nothing in it. No strength, no power. The Force wasn't reacting to her.

She brought her other arm up, swinging the rotted limb for Amani's face.

"It's.. Everything!"

Amani Serys Amani Serys
 
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
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Objective: Rescue the twins and find her way to Asher
Location: Secret Prison Facility, Exegol | Otherworld | Netherworld
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom | Ring of Wishes and Dreams || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Writing With: The Mongrel The Mongrel and Kallan | Closed
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[ Come back… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
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Mercy/Keilara #1
Tut #1
Manifold #1
Mercy/Keilara #2
Manifold #2
Tut #2
Mercy/Keilara #3
Manifold #3
Tut #3
Mercy #4
Manifold #4
Tut #4
Mercy #5
Tut #5
Manifold #5
Mercy #6
Tut #6
Mercy #7
Tut #7
Manifold #6
Mercy #8
Tut #8
Mercy #9
Asher #1
Mercy #10
Asher #2
Mercy #11
Asher #3

~ Keilara ~
As I walked up to Kallan, I recognized the place. I had never been inside before, but Freedom had seen this place from the outside. It was Sanctuary, the Valkyrja city that even Omni's drones couldn't take, no matter how hard they tried. If I remember correctly, we couldn't have been in a safer place, and that was a relief. I didn't want Kallan to suffer anymore or try to fight. He wasn't a fighter, I would have liked more than anything if he could have had the peaceful life he always wanted. He might succeed here.

"Finally!" I echoed his words and smiled at him.

I squeezed his hand when he took mine, still smiling. It was all still so incredible, here we were, separately, in our own bodies. Although not in Realspace, but here. It occurred to me for a moment that we would be able to jump into a physical body and not just continue to exist as a soul? After all, we never really died, not like Asher. Or we'd be able to leave with this body, even though we'd probably never grow old here. Probably not Mercy either, and when she's ready to leave her physical body behind, will she be like us? I didn't know the answer to these, but time will tell.

But now it was time to finally start our own life with Kallan that we had wanted for so long.

"Yes, it's just us. Although still a bit strange. I'm used to not being alone… actually, it's normal for me, I don't remember the time when I was alone in my mind. I was too young, but I'm glad that I can still feel you by my side, that our souls and minds are still connected." I whispered to him.

Not like he was in the mind palace, different. Our souls were still shared, connected. I felt him the same way as before. I think I would have panicked without it. Unlike him, I was never alone, it was very strange for me, but I will get used to it. I would get used to and learn anything for him. I watched as our home began to come together, began to build. It's true that there won't be room here for that huge meadow, the forests, the mountains, the lake, but there will be room for our house and the surrounding garden, the arbour, and the flowers.

"I know that's not what you really wanted, you wanted to live out there in Realspace, but yes, this place is safer. I'm a little sorry that it didn't happen on Serenno, in the meadow, as I promised. But if you're happy here too, I'm very happy." I said honestly.

I glanced at our own home, then at Asher and Mercy. They deserve to be happy, just like we do. And we can raise the twins together, since they consider us all their parents. Mother and the other mother; father and the other father. I looked at my husband smiling after his words and nodded.

"Yes, we did it, we are free and finally we can really be a family! And I love you too, forever!" after my words I snuggled up to him, embraced him and then kissed him for a long time.

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~ Mercy ~
Even though he said he really was Asher, I was terrified and trembling with fear until our minds and souls reconnected in the same way Keilara and Kallan had their own connection. When we became one again, I finally knew that this was not a dream, not some trick of Tu'teggacha, but reality. I could finally feel whole again, I didn't feel like I was torn in two. The other half of my soul fell into place, connected and re-entwined. This pain and this absence can now begin to heal, the wound Barran inflicted on Tython by killing him.

"Asher!" I said hoarsely again as I sobbed in his arms.

I just sobbed and sobbed, unable to stop crying. We were also one, so now it would have been useless if I had tried to block off and hide all my pain, thoughts, and memories. Asher could feel them the same way I felt them and I felt his. For the same reason, I felt his peace and calm, which this place caused him. He was able to heal, and I only suffered and now I have nothing but emptiness and pain. But now he was there too, he was here with me, finally.

But now…but now I felt him again. Now it wasn't machine arms that embraced me and held me tight, but real arms and I could smell him, his real scent. I also wanted everything to happen differently. Like in the alternate life where he ran away from the fight with Barran and we ran away. I felt that the injury caused by the lightsaber would be less painful and the physical pain would disappear, but the mental pain was still there.

"I don't ever want to be away from you like this again… I don't want our bond to be torn apart and become nothing again!" I sobbed.

The physical absence was bearable, we experienced that many times, but our minds were always connected, especially in the last times and in the last sixty years our souls were also connected. I didn't want to lose this bond between our minds and souls again. Without it I was empty and nothing made sense. He was the other half of my soul, I loved him. More than anything, even my own life, I would have done anything for her. Security, I didn't know what that meant…

As I sobbed and he held me close, I could see a little bit of his workshop changing and starting to take on the exterior of the home we lived in in the mind palace. Where there was a place for everything we wanted. What we started to build… that was my first task for him when I started healing his mind. I continued to sob… I think for long hours. I was unable to say anything, when I wanted to speak I started sobbing again. All suppressed pain, depression and relief rushed out of me at the same time.

Now that I could finally feel calm and safe in his arms. The same as always when he was with me long ago. I embraced him, held him as if I was going to lose my life ... or lose him again, if I let him go ...

… we're together…

His words alone made me cry again. I looked up at his words when he said he was proud of me and loved me. Through the bond between the two of us, I felt that it was true, I felt that he was surrounding me with his feelings. And I tried not only to snuggle in his arms and feel safe, but I covered myself in his feelings as if they were a blanket. I looked up at him, tears still streaming down my face from my eyes, but I was able to smile a little, smile at him. My first real and honest smile since he died.

"I love you too! And I never want to lose you again!" I whispered hoarsely from crying.

I stood on tiptoe in his physical, mental and astral embrace and kissed him…

… I felt like I was finally home. Without words, with thoughts and feelings conveyed the same to him what he conveyed to me in his last moments. But this was not a farewell for us, but a greeting, the beginning of a new life, our life.

I'm yours. All of me, always! it was not only a confession, but also a promise.

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O B J E C T I V E
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Wearing: Black Hooded Cloak
Equipment: Lightsabers x2
She watched as the Sith misguidedly denounced her words. "Black holes are indeed forever, many black holes are in fact as old as the universe itself, and they are not going anywhere anytime soon. The Bogan and the Ashla are also forever, even the obsidian blackness of space itself. Some things are just constant, forever, and eternal."


It was true, for many things, there was a beginning, middle, and end but some things shall always and forever be. "Perhaps, one day, many more eons into the future, time will come to claim all of these things as you say. But your eyes will not be around to witness such events. And just as these things are forever, the Sith are forever, because I am forever. And all of Ashla's temples shall crumble with time waiting for a galaxy without the Sith."

She watched him laugh unmoving as he gave his short-sighted views of The Maw. "Our goals reach far deeper than just the destruction of the Alliance and The Jedi. The philosophy is spelled out in our cry of war. It is about the cycle of war, death, and rebirth. Even in the aftermath of this battle, the remnants of the Brotherhood shall scatter like poisoned pollen across this galaxy, only to see these remnants witness rebirth, anew."

She watched the two continue their battle. "Even now, the eye of your storm is blind. Your vision is obscured by the clouds and fog within your very mind, taming your cognition. You crave allies when you have none. And listen to fiction from a voice, that is little more than a false idol."

Of course, some of that was lies, some of that was the truth, but the best of lies had always mixed truth.

Then, she stopped gasping in stunned silence, she heard it through The Darkside, the one-note song of rage was unmistakable.

The Avatars were coming...

Her communicator came to life. She disengaged her right saber, and with The Force, it flew back into her sleeve to find its rest. And answered the call, it was from one of the Mawite high security on the ship.

"M'Lady, the Jedi have taken over the cockpit, shall we retake it."

She remained calm as she answered, eerily so. "No, let them have it, open the doors, all of them. Ready my ship, and start the self-destruct sequence of the freighter, allow for enough time to leave. About thirty minutes."

Even if she could retake the cockpit, the Jedi or the Sith could hide a tracking device somewhere. Meaning the ship and its final destination were compromised. The only realistic answer to it all was to have it be no more. After starting the self-destruction, there was no way to disengage it at all. And if they stayed, they risked their lives as what would be left of the ship's carcass, would spiral and careen down planet side, only to have any of its survivors partake in the ending of Exegol and be introduced to The Avatars. And may the ending on Exogol cleanse all those down there from the spark of their lives.

But why would she help the Jedi get away? Simple really, her machinations were all part of a much larger plan. And she wanted Brandyn to save whichever Jedi's force signature was beginning to fade in Jareth's cargo room. But her feelings had told her that the Jedi in question was Cybelle, she didn't know that for sure, but she had an idea. Life or death, she had a feeling of the outcome and was not all too concerned.

The plasma of crimson and emerald glowed and clashed as the Jedi and Sith battled. And her lush lips curled in a smile of evil, as he praised the idea of love.


How sweet,
How idealistic,
How pure.

How corruptible...


Velda had decided to give Brandyn a vision of her own, and within his mind, a beautiful bright field, and by his side was herself as Velda Nar-Donna, the two seemed happy, close, and peaceful. The pairing came closer, and yet closer still. Their lips brushed and touched, and the kiss that followed was one of a smoldering yearning, as their lips drank from their passion and love. Then suddenly, the dream tore and twisted into a dark castle and the sound of thunder outside as they continued the embrace of their kiss. And slowly they began to part as she looked into his eyes. Presenting him with a Holocron of the Sith.

And their cup runneth over with romance, indecency, and sin.


And then the vision left as quickly as it came. She waited on the Sith, hearing Brandyn ask him, about his voice's demands to attack her. She awaited his decision, he should choose wisely. And wisely he did as this Sith left the scene, better to live and fight another day.

"Well done!" She said to the Jedi. "A valiant effort! You are an unmovable stone in his world of weak." She took in a breath, and her words were softer, contemplating him. "This ship is a death trap now and will self-destruct soon. You should go."

If only he could see her brown eyes soften.She did not give him any of the common overtures of a Sith, to have a jedi to fall no give into your emotions, no strike me down, none of that, and her next words, but were more thoughtful. "All your life, you have been trapped in a rustic cage. When you are ready…break free." This was all that she would say to him. All that she could say, and disengaging her second saber and putting it away into her sleeve she quickly left the scene. And was lost in the shadows, once more.

She made her way over to the hidden cargo area, converted to a hangar that had contained her ship, and she left the freighter. And soon, her ship would find the embrace of hyperspace, leaving the battle behind, and the war of Exogol, behind.



 

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