Faction [GA | DE/ER] End of the Core Wars

[Katarine Ryiah]

Tags: Dean Walker

Kat felt him tug on her wrist, pulling her into the next room, away from the blaster bolts. The door shut with a hiss and for a moment they just looked at each other. She felt oddly exposed like this, saber lit in hand. It was as if he was truly seeing what she was, a Jedi Master, fierce and well trained. To Katarine that title also came with a long ancient code that forbid the type of feelings she had for Dean, so it made her feel uneasy to be seen like this. It was as if some unspoken barrier kept them apart, at least in her mind. She knew he might not feel the same way though. Most of the galaxy didn't anymore and he had an ex girlfriend that was not only a Jedi, but the Grandmaster of the entire Order. To him it was probably normal, but to Katarine she felt odd just standing there with saber in hand, showing what she truly was.

"You take point," he said, voice low but steady. "I've got your back."

"Try to enjoy the view from back there." She smirked at him, the bravado ever present when she was uncomfortable. She took point and together they moved through the long hallway in front of them. It was quiet, almost eerily so as their boots echoed among the metallic floor. Kat's white boots thudded softly, her saber casting an odd white glow in the shadows as they moved.

 

[Jaidan Shatani]

Jaidan answered Corazana’s request with but a terse nod; anything further would simply be a draw on her attention, however miniscule, and she would need all her focus in a moment. It was time to bring this particular skirmish to an end. For his compatriots, that would mean bringing all their will to bear. And for Jaidan himself, it meant the time had come to go all in, and summon the real razzle dazzle.

Underfoot, the rumbling would seem to intensify, and it would be answered from above. With all the speed of flood waters breaking through a dam, dark and angry clouds could be seen moving in, bearing all the awful spectacle of thunder and lightning, the latter striking closer and closer all the time. And yet, the earth would not be so easily outdone in its convulsions. As if drawing power or inspiration from the incoming storm, the great fissure in the earth would begin to emit an awful orange light of its own, lava bubbling up from the planet’s very core. Now, as in the distant days of yore, Tython itself would not bear silent witness to these paroxysms in the force. The world was alive, and it was angry.

In truth, the actual escalation in producing this apocalyptic display was only moderate. That was the beauty of the illusionist’s art; making a phantom more impressive to behold was more an exercise of the imagination than a draw on his energy. No, the real effort was in the complexity, with convincingly filling in the finer details. It was one thing to simply fool the eye; a simple change in atmospheric humidity could accomplish that much. A real illusion engaged every sense at once. The Drengir would hear that thunder. Smell the scorched wood where the lightning struck. Feel the heat of the planet venting its glowing life’s blood in protest.

“Did you imagine you could simply befoul the essence of this world with impunity? I tell you, there is always a price to pay for such arrogance! Now, behold!”

And then, with nearly the same unbidden speed of the lightning strike, a fresh crack in the earth branched off from the main chasm, and swallowed one of the creatures whole. The result depended much on perspective. The Drengir would experience vertigo, light, darkness, and panic. For the Jedi, this would all start looking a good deal more real as Jaidan stepped up his game, but if they put some work into seeing past the fiction, they would see the abomination thrashing frantically upon the ground as it suffered its imaginary fall. But for the rest of the creatures? They would see one of their number disappear into the burning fissure, before its presence disappeared in turn from their collective consciousness.

The result was terror, anger…and defiance.

“The planet is aggrieved by our presence?” One of the creatures asked this with a snarl before it pressed on. “Then perhaps it will take a sacrifice in recompense! Take it and be satisfied or choke on it, we care not!”

And with that, their captive Jedi was hurled into that same chasm. That is to say, the hapless Felucian was tossed on their ass, grunted sharply as the wind was knocked out of them, and then looked around in utter befuddlement as the abominations seemed to take no more note of them afterward.

Get out of there, you idiot.

It was fortunate indeed that the Jedi complied quickly, for at that moment, something else began nagging at the edge of his awareness. More minds, more presences in the force were fast approaching. He sensed valor, resolve, camaraderie…and malevolence. All of which would be upon his physical body well before the others. He’d need to do what he could to make sure it stopped there. He honestly wasn’t sure what the others would have left by way of reserves after this. But as he’d promised, the creatures were clustered together, and fleeing their imagined peril…right into the very real danger posed by the combined efforts of Cora’s team. He maintained his elaborate deception as long as he possibly could, to give them every possible moment…then he opened his eyes, and he looked upon his allies no longer, but instead the patch of forest where he’d chosen to remain.

He didn’t stay solitary for long, of course. Soon enough, Connel and his team burst into view, along with the gargantuan Drengir which had been trailing them. Taking a deep breath, he ignited his lightsaber once more, clutching it in one hand and his carved wooden walking stick in the others as he calmly approached the towering creature.

“You are not welcome here. And you go no further.”

Corazona von Ascania Connel Vanagor Reina Daival Everest Vale Caelan Valoren

 

[Alicio Organa]

Objective 3 - Return
Alliance General Ministry Canton, Fondor
- Monaray Dod - Tiber Septimus - Ilri Mel - Lyandra Thalorin - Vianca Mecetti - Sera Mina - Feridade Parthi - Marya Werdegast -
​

Alicio hadn't called for a vote.

Senator Dod had pulled that trigger, and the rest seemed eager to exercize that right. He may have been the arbiter of the Senate, but more often than not, it had a mind of it's own. Today, he'd let them have it. Alicio simply pressed the button on his console to open the vote, and stepped aside.

After an appropriate amount of time, the Chancellor finally called the vote, reclaiming the floor. "The Assembly has decided. We stay on Fondor." While he didn't outwardly try to show favor one way or the other, and still saw the merits of both sides... he liked the decision. He appreciated practicality over symbolism.

The darkly-dressed man tilted his head towards Vianca. "But this decision does not allow us to cede responsibility of Coruscant's rejuvenation, or the rest of the Core. The Representative from Obulette is correct- Coruscant is still a focal point of our economy, and the entire Galactic Core was balanced upon it being the seat of the Senate. If that seat has moved elsewhere, there will be consequences for the region. It's up to us to find an alternate solution, before it's too late."

"That is my challenge to you all. Something to ponder." Alicio smirked. It was time for them to be problem-solvers. Builders.

"This meeting is adjourned."

 

[Anguis Dux]

Tag: The Vulptex

Anguis shrieked as a toxic mix of volcanic Ash, crushed cortosis, and the ground pepper dust flooded into shattered helmet. Only a last section deflection with his forearm prevented him from being permanently blinded. But his right eye was a blurry and hot teary mess. Half of his vision suite gone in an instant.

"Then maybe I'll start on Coruscant. I never liked that damned planet" he spat as he rubbed the ash from his eyes, "A water poisoning here. A plague virus there. Maybe it'll take millions. Billions even! But I'll eventually hurt someone you care for. A lot of my clients would pay handsomely to cull the lower level's burdensome population. Some from within your own government! Vengeance and profit at the same time. Unlike you, I think big."

Some of his sensor readings had finally finished their reboot cycle. His proximity detectors came back online just in time for him to scream an alert in his ear. Anguis whirled around with to block the first cortosis dagger with his vibroblade. Then the next one that followed. And the next half dozen that followed from multiple directions.

How could she move this fast? No biological training could allow her to strike from the shadows so fast and precise. Even if she had top-of-the-line cybernetics it would still have been hindered by the EMP blast. There was only one power in the Galaxy that could allow someone to reach her level...

Another flying dagger.

Though Anguis skillfully deflected it again he could feel his arms aching and his breathing hastening. No doubt she she knew the same. Sensor warnings and training were guiding his blade but it was only a matter of time. Death by a thousand cuts but each cut could kill him. He needed to get lucky every time. She only needed to get lucky once. She was going to bring him down by whittling him until he was naught but splinters. His mental calculations stated if the situation stayed the course for one more minute, this was where his journey would end.

Something drastic needed to be done to redress the balance.

In a single fluid move with his remaining good hand, he reached within his utility belt he drew a black cylinder. With a flick of his thumb he popped out its red safety clip and hurled it into a corner of the room.

The Rhypalm Grenade detonate mid-air, showering half the room with a foul-smelling gas before igniting into an inferno hot enough to slag durasteel. He had little doubt the little minx would have dodged the initial blast. But now half the room was closed off to her. Less space to dodge his lethal strikes. Darkness was now turned to light.

Though of course the entire place was now flooding with extremely toxic rhydonium that would kill everyone still in the next two minutes still in the room. Anguis judged he had only half that time to live anyway.

Viper Commander now snarled as he activated his vibroblade. In a single swift move he chopped an Imperial Researcher corpse on the ground in half. He charged forwards, using the bloody torso as a meat shield with his free hand. No more playing with his food. No more giving into rage. Each strike he made was precise with intent to kill.

He wasn't going to die now. He had so much more power and wealth to amass. Too few planets bowed before his whim. Too dared too stand in Viper Group's way.

"Die already!" he howled.

​

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Iris Arani Shan

Domxite settled onto her back, their presence a gentle anchor against the exhaustion threatening to pull her under. Her stripes rippled amber again, thoughtful, before fading back to a tired but determined ochre. Zaiya took a slow breath, grounding herself in their connection, before flicking a glance at Iris.

Use your head before you use the Force. The words settled deep, Right. Use the other medical skills I've learned from Iris. SHe still had some pyranan healing sticks.

Before she could say anything, Shan was there, pressing a small crystal into her palm. She blinked at it, feeling the soft hum of energy wrapped inside with familiar energy.

Zaiya swallowed, her throat dry. For a moment, she just stared at him, at the quiet assurance in his expression. The way he, too, carried so much but still found a way to give. It was the same crystal Shan had lent her back on Coruscant, when she first met him, when she first learned how to use the Force to heal another.

Then she nodded. "Thank you, Shan. I..." She gratitude sending a shimmer of brightening luminance over her skin. "I'll use it well."

Zaiya curled her fingers around the crystal, letting its presence seep into her focus, then turned back to see who to assist next.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, as well as a flutter of colors in the Force of warning. A soldier with a red tag gripping a blaster, panic wild in his eyes. His breathing was erratic, and his grip on the weapon was tight, his gaze darting toward the nearest medic like a wounded animal ready to lash out.

Zaiya didn't hesitate. She surged forward, hands raised, keeping her voice even.

"Hey. Put that down. You're hurt..we can help." His gaze snapped to hers, frantic, and her stripes flushed a deep bronze in compassion.

"You don't have to do this." The Lovalla added, remembering what Iris said. Patients at risk of harming themselves, administer sedatives. Zaiya exhaled slowly, willing every ounce of steadiness into her voice. "Let us help."

 

[Ilri Mel]

(Tags: Alicio Organa Tiber Septimus , Monaray Dod , Lyandra Thalorin , Vianca Mecetti , Sera Mina , Feridade Parthi , Marya Werdegast )

Visibly slouching into her chair, Ilri exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she held in since casting her vote, awaiting for the final count with bated trepidation. Relieved they were making the right call, the Kiffar could relax a bit.

However, the Chancellor was right about Coruscant's important on the galactic scale, a covered novel of scum and poverty aside. It will be their burden to devise a means of making the world important without being the heart of the Alliance, as it once were. Ilri could draft up some plans with fellow Senators, after the meeting.

But first thing's first, when they left this grandiose chamber, the good politician will have to advise her aides and the people back home of the Alliance's decision to remain.

 

[Jack Wright]

​

(Tags: Jonyna Si , OPEN)

Stumbling forward a little, Jack recovered and whipped around, eyebrows raised bemusedly by the Jedi Master's lack of enthusiasm. Unable to conceal his mirth when he jokingly played.

"Here I thought an esteemed member of the Council would be thrilled to find a fountain of knowledge and our history."

 

[Connel Vanagor]

CLEANING UP THE REFUSE
TYTHON
OBJ 2

Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Seraphim
[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]

The air hung thick and heavy with the cloying stench of decay and damp earth. Sunlight, already weak, struggled to penetrate the dense canopy of gnarled trees that choked the forests surrounding Akar Kesh on Tython. The silence was broken only by the drip, drip, drip of some unseen moisture and the ragged breaths of the battered, but unbowed, members of Omega Squad. Before them, a monstrous form stirred amidst the wreckage of its nest.


Master Shatani’s words commanded authority and strength of character, but this was not his fight. It’s okay, Master Shatani. They may have started this, but we are finishing it. Connel did not mince words, he did not have time to as the beast was moving, as was he, to contain it.


“Michael”, leader of Omega Squad, remained a picture of focused calm. His somewhat youthful face, barely touched by the galaxy’s endless wars, was set in a grim line. Everyone, weapon's hot. This is it. The Elder Drengir. He spoke with an authority that belied his years, his voice a low rumble that somehow cut through the oppressive atmosphere. In his hands, his custom-built blaster rifle hummed with pent-up energy.


To his left, “Gabriel”, the team's tech specialist and second-in-command, adjusted the targeting scope on his own weapon. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his brow. Just another day at the office. Though, I gotta say, this office has terrible ventilation. He muttered, his usual banter slightly strained.


Beside him, “Azrael”, the team's demolitions expert, chuckled, a manic glint in his eyes. Relax, Gabe. Think of it as aromatherapy. Eau de compost. He hefted his grenade launcher with a disturbing ease. Besides, after I'm done, there won't be any ventilation left to complain about.


“Raphael”, the heavy weapons specialist, stood like a statue, his massive rotary cannon “Bertha” resting on his shoulder. His face was serene, almost meditative, as if he were observing a particularly interesting sunset. Inner peace, he murmured. It's all about inner peace… and overwhelming firepower.


“Sariel”, the sniper, was a shadow against a twisted tree trunk, his long-range rifle pressed to his cheek. His eyes, cold and calculating, were fixed on the Drengir. Let me get the first shot. Establish dominance. His voice was a low growl, devoid of warmth.


“Jeremiel”, the team's secondary sniper and corpsman, knelt beside a fallen tree, his medical scanner in hand. His compassionate nature was etched onto his face, a stark contrast to the savage scene unfolding before him. Keep it clean, everyone. I'd like to keep my stitches to a minimum. He looked up, his eyes filled with a warrior's fire. But if you need me, don't hesitate.

And then there was Connel Vanagor, Jedi Shadow, a figure of quiet intensity. His lightsaber hilts normally slung over and behind, not right now though, he was moving with both of them in hand to block the lateral movements of the plant-like beast. He moved slightly ahead of Omega Squad, his connection to the Force a palpable presence. He felt the raw hunger, the ancient malice, radiating from the Elder Drengir, and the memory of the Sithspawn that had once infested this world fueled his resolve. He knew then that Tython could never be a true Jedi planet again if these abominations were allowed to stay and fester.

Stand ready, Vanagor said, his voice a low, resonant hum. This creature is strong, steeped in the dark side. He glanced back at “Michael”, a silent understanding passing between them. Omega Squad was more than just another spec ops team. They were his brothers in arms.

The Elder Drengir rose to its full height, a grotesque parody of life. Its tangled mass of vines and writhing tendrils dripped with viscous fluid. Razor-sharp thorns studded its body, and its maw, a gaping chasm lined with rows of needle-like teeth, opened in a silent roar. It was a creature sculpted from nightmare, a testament to the Dark Empire’s cruel ingenuity.

The battle erupted in a cacophony of blaster fire and the crackle of energy. “Michael” took the lead, directing Omega Squad with practiced efficiency. ”Gabriel”, disrupt its central nervous system! “Azrael”, get a charge on the root clusters! “Raphael”, suppression fire!

“Gabriel's” EMP burst ripped through the air, momentarily disrupting the Drengir's coordination. “Azrael” followed up with a volley of grenades, the explosions shaking the ground and tearing chunks from the creature's woody flesh. “Raphael's” rotary cannon roared, a continuous stream of blaster bolts chewing through the Drengir's outer layers.

“Sariel”, perched high in the trees, found his mark. His shots were precise, deadly, piercing the Drengir's eyes and severing vital tendrils. “Jeremiel”, meanwhile, kept a watchful eye on his teammates, patching up wounds and providing covering fire.

Vanagor moved with a ferocious grace that belied the chaos around him. He weaponized his lightsabers, violet and permafrost blades humming with power. He deflected blaster bolts with uncanny accuracy, his movements fluid and responsive. He felt the Dark Side energies swirling around the Drengir, a malevolent force that sought to corrupt and consume.

He leapt forward, his lightsabers a blur of blue and violet light. Slashing at the Drengir's tendrils, severing them with ease, he parried its attacks, the Force guiding his every move. He sought the creature's core, the nexus of its dark energy.

The Elder Drengir thrashed and roared, its attacks becoming more frantic, more desperate. It lashed out with its tendrils, attempting to ensnare Vanagor. It spewed forth a torrent of acidic spores, forcing Omega Squad to take cover. Connel was not out of the fight though, slinging his main saber, and pulling his lightblaster, firing several blasts into the eyes of the monster.


“Michael”, seeing an opportunity, charged forward, firing his blaster rifle on full auto. His shots found their mark, tearing through the Drengir's weakened defenses. He knew that the creature was weakening, but it was far from defeated.


“Azrael”, ever the opportunist, lobbed a cluster of thermal detonators at the Drengir's base. The resulting explosion was deafening, showering the area with fragments of burning wood and splattered ichor. The Drengir staggered, its immense form trembling.


Vanagor seized the moment. He channeled the Force, focusing his energy on the center of the Drengir. He felt its dark presence, its ancient malice, and he pushed back with all his might.


Igniting his main saber again, Connel dove forward, his weapons aimed at the creature's core. He pierced its defenses, the blades sinking deep into its heart. The Drengir shrieked, a sound of pure agony that echoed through the forest. This allowed “Azrael” to drop his shaped charge into the gaping hole.


The creature convulsed one last time before collapsing, its massive form crashing to the ground with a resounding thud, still fighting for air. The air filled with the scent of burning wood and ozone. The silence that followed was almost deafening. MOVE MOVE MOVE! Everyone in range ducked behind debris and any cover they could find. “Raphael” was still exposed, but Connel threw the man his Combat shield.


Seconds later, the Elder Drengir went up in a fireball.


Omega Squad slowly emerged from their cover, their masks streaked with grime. They looked at the fallen Drengir, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and relief.


Michael holstered his blaster rifle. Good job, everyone. That's one less nightmare haunting Tython.


Gabriel wiped the sweat from his brow. I'm gonna need a long shower after this. And maybe a hazmat suit.


Azrael grinned maniacally. Another masterpiece of pyrotechnics, if I do say so myself. Now Gabriel… you can’t throw this thing on one of your bigazz Nerfburgers and call it ‘Health Food’.


You son of a… He begins to chase after Azrael who is running around the group now.


Look out! He’s hungry! Lock up your buffets!

Raphael sighed contentedly. You guys are idiots… can’t you just enjoy the view?


Sariel leveled his rifle. One shot, I can get’em both with one shot.


Jeremiel began tending to the wounded, his compassionate nature shining through. We did good work today, people. We made a difference.


Vanagor deactivated his weapons and slung them again. He looked at Omega Squad, full of gratitude. We did this together. Tython owes you all a debt.

He knew that their work was far from over. There were still other Drengir nests to be destroyed, other remnants of the Dark Empire to be purged, but they were ready. They were more than just soldiers. They were protectors. They were the shield that guarded Tython, the ancestral home of the Jedi. And as long as they stood vigilant, the light would never truly be extinguished on this ancient world.

@Cora Von Ascania • Everest Vale • Reina Daival • Caelan Valoren • Jaidan Shatani​

 

[The Vulptex]

Tag: Anguis Dux
Names: Lyra, Samantha, Alex, Beatrix​

First came the fire. A rhypalm grenade thrown in a moment of desperation. In response, another cloud of particulates was thrown, crushed from the egg, and used to quell the flames. Light filled the room suddenly, but the flames were stopped just enough to prevent the room from filling with toxic gases.

What it did reveal, was the truth.

Two Vulptexes, both identical in stature, dress, and equipment. Both standing on opposite sides of the Imperial Terrorist, one using that chain whip to catch the blade striking at them, the other holding an ion pistol, aiming right at the man's chest.

"Stand down." The same synthetic, ambiguous voice spoke through the second, "Or I hit with enough ion energy to take down a krayt dragon."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora felt the dry heat of lava blaze against the side of her face. Though it was only Master Shatani's masterful illusion that tricked her senses, she was reminded of Mustafar. Dark and hot and choked with smog, where Kasir Dorran tried to mold her into a fledgling darksider among the magma flows. The encroaching darkness from within the forest played on painful memories.

Light soothed that painful recollection, bathing her in the presence of her allies. Caelan, Everest, and Reina were putting their focus onto her, so she would keep her focus on their task at hand. Their combined efforts would soon bear fruit.

Facing the pair of drengir caught in the apocalyptic illusion, Cora brought the tips of her thumbs and forefingers together, palms out, so that the space between her fingers formed a triangle. Light emanated from her tented hands in a brilliant flash, swallowing the pair of drengir before they could fall into an imaginary volcanic crevice.

With Connel and Omega Squad felling the elder drengir, the group was given a quiet moment to recuperate. From the corner of her eye, she caught the forms of Eve and Reina. The Padawans had done well, and if they were too exhausted to continue onward, she would not blame them. There was still the captured knight to attend to, who'd suffered a few minor wounds from the drengir's thorny snare.

"Padawns Vale or Daival, would you please check on Knight Celdos? Depending on how injured he is, we may need to take him back to camp."

Cora turned towards Jaidan, then to Connel and his group. "Well done, Master Shatani. Your expertise in illusory work is...well, frighteningly effective. And Knight Vanagor, thank you and Omega Squad for your help. That was quite a take down."

With a hand pressed against a tree, Cora extended her senses along the network of roots that twined together beneath this swath of forest. "There's a nest up ahead, but I'm not sensing much activity. The drengir operate as a hivemind, so taking down their elder might've disrupted their communication with one another." Again, she gave a thankful nod towards the shadow and his commandos.

"We'll do another sweep to be sure, but this part of the forest might be clear. Is anyone injured? Padawans, Knight Valoren, have you sustained any wounds?"

Everest Vale Reina Daival Caelan Valoren Jaidan Shatani Connel Vanagor

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"Be safe, Thurion."

Kahlil glanced to the other man, giving him a single nod. The Drengir were thinned off, but they were a monstrous race in their survivability. If there was any who could handle it though, it would be Thurion. His gaze shifted to Valery as he nodded once, stepping quickly after her. All the way to the bunker, to where the Moff who surrendered awaited them.

"That we can. Shall we discuss terms?"

Valery Noble | Thurion Heavenshield | Antipater

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Jack Wright

Jonyna just paused, and raised an eyebrow at the man. "I lived our history, 900 years ago. I think I've read plenty. Besides, big words make my brain hurt. That's more Ran Serys and Efret Farr 's forte. I handle the rebuilding, they handle the archiving."

She didn't want to admit that most of this stuff, she couldn't read. Lots of text made her vision go blurry, and a lot of this was already archived in the temple.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

As Thurion Heavenshield pressed a kiss to her hand, Valery smiled. The gesture was simple, but it carried the weight of something deeper — something fiercely familial. Her expression softened, her strength flickering behind tired eyes, and she looked up at him with the kind of warmth that a daughter could show a father.

"Be safe, Thurion," she said quietly, her voice barely audible above the hum of the fortress' external gates. "We'll return soon." And then, as he turned to make his stand against the tide, Valery did what she always had to do.

At Kahlil's side, she walked through the hangar, the sound of their boots echoing off durasteel floors. The tension in the air was palpable — not hostile, but uneasy. The Imperial pilots watched them with wide eyes, unsure whether to salute or hide. The fortress itself, though fortified, felt strangely brittle and hollow. Like it was waiting for something.

When Antipater approached, his voice like a machine trying to sound human, Valery stopped alongside her husband and lifted her chin with quiet authority. She gave the Moff a slight nod — not out of deference, but acknowledgement. This was a man who had chosen to stop fighting. And that alone was worth something.

"It is," Valery confirmed, her voice clear and firm. "And we're glad you've made this decision." Her tone was genuine. There was relief in it, beneath the weariness. Too many had fought to the bitter end. Too many had clung to pride instead of life. She took a step forward, her presence calm and commanding.

"Lead the way, to discuss the terms."

But then—

She paused.

Just for a heartbeat, something… shifted. Her posture straightened. Her shoulders tensed. And her breath caught in the space between one step and the next. Valery's eyes flicked sideways to Kahlil — and he'd see it instantly. The worry. The instinct. Something was coming. She didn't need words for him to feel it through their bond, but she spoke anyway, voice quiet and edged with sudden dread.

"Love." Her hand hovered just above her lightsaber hilt, not yet drawn, but braced. "I feel them." She turned slightly, gaze narrowing as she stared out through the fortress entry — toward the twisted landscape beyond.

"Moff Antipater, you might want to tell your soldiers to get ready. Something is heading our way."

Kahlil Noble Antipater ​

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

What followed was the wrath of a kind man made manifest.

Alone, the Lion of Midvinter stood his ground facing the endless darkness of a corrupted world, one bright candle in the Abyss. He fought for Valery and Kahlil — a daughter and a son he never had — because he loved them, and because he believed in them. He fought because the Force had willed him to do thus. He fought because it was right; because he owed it to a galaxy he'd long forsaken.

With brilliant blade stained black by a hundred foes did Thurion keep the enemy at bay, swinging, stabbing, lunging and parrying in a tireless performance of swordsmanship honed to absolute perfection over the course of decades and a thousand battles to his name. His shield held forever firm, blocking and bashing aside even the fiercest of blows, utterly obliterating the enemy.

"Come, you whoresons," he roared, demanding that they do not falter in their bloodthirst. "I am doom! I am wrath! I am vengeance!"

His cloak, emblazoned with the golden lion that was his moniker, as well as the banner he'd so boldly placed, were becoming increasingly torn and tattered. The many gilded adornments of his armour were nicked, scuffed, or mauled into unrecognisable shapes by the relentlessness of their assault, and several feathers were missing from his winged helmet. He'd become more mud, guts, and blood than man, yet his sword arm remained strong for the time being.

The Drengir were relentless, each drawn to the singular uncorrupted lifeform like a moth to flame. Each more monstrous than the last, varying wildly in shape and size. Frenzied, mindless creatures living for the consumption of all. For Tython to be healed, they needed to be eradicated to the last. Thurion was more than willing to thin their numbers, even at the cost of his life.

Especially at the cost of his life.

"Are you watching," he cried to the heavens. "Coci, my love?" Amidst the madness, the Lion pulled off his helmet and threw it on the ground, revealing a battered and scarred face framed by a mane of hair slick with blood and grime.

Long ago, in the wake of his wife's disappearance, the remaining half of a Force Bond that had existed for half a century made a pact with himself: That whatever injury or ailment befell him, he would seek neither remedy nor reprieve. That, if his time was to be cut short, he would welcome it. There was no healing to be had where bonds of such magnitude and depth were concerned. A piece of his very essence was missing, and he could never have it back.

But he had given his word to hold the gate. If Death was to come and claim his soul, He would have to fight him for the privilege.

Valery Noble Kahlil Noble Antipater Caltin Vanagor ​

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

Right back what is wrong…
Tython
What was once “The Gnarls”

Objective IV — Empire Left Behind
(GA | DE/ER)

There were several ominous howls off in the distance, they were getting louder.

Up for a fight?

He didn’t wait for an answer from the Knight, Caltin tore off into a sprint, running right at the howls. What he came across was something he was not surprised to see, but wished he was. More and more Drengir bearing down on his blood brother Thurion, and the Lion King was taunting them.

Well he would not do this alone.

A large one was within his reach as Caltin entered the fray and he caught it in a Force Grip and then slowly closed his hand into a fist and crushed the foe, dropping it to the ground. Igniting the golden blade of “Conservator” his lightsaber, Caltin cut down those who tried to flank the Warmaster to the right and stood at his side. He had heard every word the man was spouting, but that would not be addressed. There was something different though about the man,, not the king who hosted “family reunion” barbecues, or the proud father who watched his son marry his long time love. Not even the downtrodden royal sullied over the disappearance of his betrothed. This was a man who was angry, furious, not going to allow loss to control him. He looked like he was welcoming the end?

Not today.

Mind if I join in the fun?

He tried to be light about it, but there was something about the situation that was wrong. More and more were coming. There was something about this that he did not like, as they approached, he cut down anything he saw that was a threat, but they were indeed an onslaught.
She hears you, brother. She hears you and she sees you. She is proud you are here. No matter what these Drengir try to do.

Tapping the comm-link in his ear, he called out. [Connel, are you available.]

[A little busy fighting Drengir to your East.]

[You’re fighting the big horde?]

[We took out an elder, and are pushing them toward the Silent Dessert]

[Stay safe.]

[You too.]

Thurion Heavenshield Valery Noble Kahlil Noble Antipater Taam Moghul TAGS
[Text in Brackets is spoken on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​

 

[Caelan Valoren]

The padawans did well. He could feel them giving what they had to Cora, just as he did. The power welled within her and she took it on and then utilized it to dispatch the remaining drengir, freeing the captured Knight from what would have been a painful death. Nearby, he felt the larger presence of darkness subside, likely at the hands of the others in the vicinity. That was good. If their largest beast was down, then it would help to disrupt their ability to fight back against the Jedi seeking to cleanse the place.

Caelan took a moment to assess both of the padawans, but aside from being a little tired, they seemed alright. Cora gave them a task to see to, anyway, so he took up a position that allowed him to provide cover for the group should any more of the drengir appear from the wood and attack them. He couldn't feel any about, but that didn't mean they wouldn't come rushing in at a moments notice.

"I am fine," he assured Cora, when she asked about his status. "What about you, Cora?"

She asked about everyone else, it was only right that someone check on her as well. After all, she'd just channeled a lot of energy into what she'd just done and that was bound to take its toll on the body and mind. Though, she was an exceptional Jedi, so might not bother her too much. That's why he asked, to make sure. Healing wasn't his strong suit, but he could afford to give her some energy if she needed it. And if anything was wrong internally, he did have a couple of vials of lazerenzyme that would take care of it.

"The padawans did well. They should feel good about their efforts."

---

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace), Prosthetic Left Arm

TAGS: Corazona von Ascania | Everest Vale | Reina Daival | Connel Vanagor | Jaidan Shatani​

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tags: Jonyna Si , OPEN)

Unable to hide his mirthful smirk, Jack shook his head in wry disbelief. Of all the Council Members to oversee the reconstruction of the Temple, it was the one with the least enthusiasm for archival knowledge? This was simultaenous hysterical, and a nightmare.

"I should report you to the Council." Jack teased, the young Knight helping himself to scouring over the vast, ancient data. Plucking out one such, admiring its faint, vacant glow, the Jedi peeked over and inquired, loudly, while workers set-up shop, "Come on, there has to be something that fancties your interest, knowledge-wise."

 

[Everest Vale]

Objective 2
Outfit: Robes
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings
Tag: Corazona von Ascania Reina Daival Caelan Valoren Connel Vanagor Jaidan Shatani

The forest had gone quiet. Not the kind of silence that came from absence, but the kind that followed something ending, as if the woodland itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what would come next. Eve stood still for a moment, her shoulders rising and falling with slow, heavy breaths. Her arms trembled faintly at her sides, not from fear, but from sheer exhaustion. The adrenaline that had carried her through the battle had ebbed, leaving a familiar ache in its place; the kind that settled deeply into her bones.

When Cora's voice came, Eve looked up slowly, her silver eyes still bright, though dulled by fatigue. She heard the name — Padawan Vale — and it took a second for her brain to catch up. Right. That was her. She blinked, then nodded faintly, offering a grateful look toward Cora even if she couldn't quite summon words yet.

Beside her, Reina stood just as worn, and Eve didn't hesitate before leaning into her gently — shoulder to shoulder, two battered pieces of the same team. She didn't know who needed the support more, but it didn't matter. It was enough that they moved together.

"Come on," Eve murmured softly, her voice hoarse but kind, as she reached to squeeze Reina's shoulder. "Let's check on him."

The pair moved slowly, carefully, each step measured. As they passed Caelan, Eve caught his eye and offered him a quiet nod of acknowledgement, an unspoken but deep appreciation for his presence here, that gave her strength too. The Knight came into view, and Eve finally knelt down beside him, her hand brushing gently against his arm to draw his attention. Her touch was light, full of warmth, even through the weight in her limbs.

"You're alright now," she whispered, half to him, half to herself.

And for the first time in what felt like hours, the stillness around them felt like peace.

 

[Antipater]

III. Instrument of Surrender​

"I feel them."

Antipater tilted his head slightly to one side as if in anticipation of a punchline or explanation. One was not forthcoming. How very typical that these Jedi could not resist their theatrics even on such a somber occasion as this.

Still, he elected to take Valery's warning at face value, as he calculated that Jedi were rarely capable of meaningful deception. The droid removed a cylindrical comlink from where it had been hooked to his tunic and spoke into it flatly. "Initiate lockdown procedures."

The hangar doors immediately began to rattle shut. There were many threats that could have followed the Jedi here and the effectiveness of a reinforced durasteel bulkhead against them was dubious. Red emergency lights began to flax, as well as a steady alert klaxon. His attendants quickly fled back where they had came, and the TIE pilots scattered to wherever their emergency checkpoint was - perhaps their barracks, deeper in the fort.

Only Antipater and the novatroopers remained. He did not call for more stormtroopers. He suspected they would only get in the way.

Antipater casually reclipped his comlink back into place. "I am awaiting an explanation of some kind."

Attn: Valery Noble | Kahlil Noble​

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Jack Wright

Jonyna just raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You're gonna report me to myself? I don't think that's allowed. And sure, I'm sure there's something in here that might be interesting, but I can look at that when the building isn't at risk of collapsing, or some dark side spirit isn't at risk of suddenly popping out and eating someone whole."

Instead, she sat against a wall, and poked at her holocomm. Flicking from one channel to another, idly keeping track of each.