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

[Drystan Creed]

TYTHON

"Shadow Creed here. I've arrived on Tython."

Drystan tapped the communicator in his ear, tuning into Corazona von Ascania and her strike-team's channel. He stood in a forest clearing, tall trees looming around him, their silhouettes barely visible through the ominous fog that bathed the area in a muted dimness.

"I won't be joining you all, as I have my own mission. May the Force be w—"

His eyes narrowed as a hissing sound cut through the fog, followed by a rattle—then a roar.

A plant-like tentacle came smashing down at him. Before the stone-crushing blow could land, Drystan flipped to the side, twisting mid-air to face his attacker.

Before him stood a ravenous drengir, its many-fanged maw gaping as it stared him down. Drystan's responded with a shake of the head, followed by a click of his tongue.

"Ah, hate to cut this short. My date's here. Bye."

He cut communications, spreading his arms out in mock welcome, a low chuckle escaping him.

"Glad I got your attention. I was beginning to feel a little ignored."

The drengir hissed, its massive form coiling in agitation.

"I WILL ENJOY DIGESTING YOUR ARROGANCE ALONG WITH YOUR BODY AS I FEAST UPON IT!"

It lunged, its jaws gnashing, eager to clamp down on Drystan's upper body. But the bite never landed.

Drystan's arms shot up, palms pressed against the inside of its jaws, holding them open. The Drengir struggled, but Drystan's force-augmented strength kept its mouth pried apart, its fangs snapping inches from his face.

He grunted, his muscles tensing.

"As appealing as that sounds—"

A sudden burst of strength. He wrenched its maw open and launched himself backward, slipping from its grasp with ease.

"I'll pass."

Before another roar could shake the trees, Drystan was already moving. A blur of motion, and then a lancing stab from his right palm.

The drengir's gargled screech filled the air as Drystan's hand speared forward, his palm embedding deep into its writhing body.

A hum left his lips. Golden lightning coalesced in his palm.

Bolts of electricity surged through the drengir's twisting form, scorching it from within, the intensity rising with every microsecond, turning the dim clearing into a blazing spectacle of golden arcs.

And then—

KRAKOW!

A flash—blinding.

Drystan pulled his hand free, stepping back as the drengir stood frozen, its pale green form turned black—a charred sculpture of what it once was, solidified ash still holding its twisted form.

He dusted his hand along the fabric of his pants, casting the now-lifeless husk an amused glance.

"There. I think this look suits you better."

And with that, the ash sculpture crumbled, scattering to the forest floor like dust in the wind.

Dillon Kai'el Braze

 

[Jack Sandrow]

OBJECTIVE I
Sub-objective: Immediate aid to the people of Tython, then healing the earth from the scars of war
Location: Tython
Personal Equipment: Currently wearing the Olisthiros combat suit folded away under his clothing | Pistol
Alignment: Unaffiliated, but GA-aligned

---

Jack had been personally contacted by Grandmaster Valery Noble for help on Tython, and of course he had accepted.

One, it was Tython - Tython, the same planet that held immense power for Jedi in general (both through the Force and in sentimental value). Two, one does not simply refuse a request from a Noble. Three, he had actually been preparing for exactly this event since skirmishes had broken out a long while ago. He was more than ready.

The Viator treeship had snapped into realspace a few moments before; travel via Forcedrive was slower than hyperspace. Jack still had to work out a few snags, but he was fine with sacrificing speed for efficiency. The Viator had already begun disgorging support craft, their overburdened cargo space full to bursting with emergency supplies. From orbit he had a basic idea of the major settlements and areas where refugees gathered, but there were still far too many far-flung camps that each needed their own rescues. He hoped that there was a plan to help them all... he hated coming up with plans.

Guiding one massive support craft near a large refugee settlement, he felt the distinct pricklings of several Light-sided signatures near what must be the local Temple. The immense seed-shaped spacecraft touched down with the lightest breath, before thin support veins extruded from its skin to dig into the ground and root it in place. The cockpit peeled away, and Jack hopped down from the 'controls' to land softly before his craft. A simple mental command, and the Pod began to unpeel itself to allow its supplies to settle on the ground. Jack had commanded similar Pods all over Tython to touch down and open up as well; he didn't have precise control over their situations, but emergency supplies were fairly simple to distribute by design.

Right here at the Temple, though, this was where he was needed. Several hundred pallets of Chewbread bars, a few dozen pallets of PureSucculent straws and FreshAir masks, and two large cacti-like plants were spread over the immediate area behind the Pod. There were always onlookers when Jack's biotech made an appearance, so Jack made sure to open a few pallets of the Chewbread to get the food out.

"Hello?" he called out. There didn't seem to be any official docking procedure... "Hello! Is there a quartermaster here? Someone I can talk to about unloading all this?" There were more people than he thought there would be... Another mental command, and the Pod began to fold back up and prepare to take off again. He'd need to start ferrying more supplies down here ASAP.

"Yes, hi, hello." He was being swarmed by refugees, and nodded and smiled to them politely. "Yes, please help get these out of here. One box per 120 people, okay? Five bars per person, one bar a week. Just... Just follow the instructions on the back of the bar, okay?" He looked around again for help. "Okay, yes, those straws are for you to share. If you have graywater, that should clean it up for use again. Please don't use the straws on blackwater, they have a limited usage!" They were grabbing at the masks, so Jack hurried over. "These are emergency use only - get these to the medical tents, they will provide a steady flow of oxygen regardless of engironment. Go, take them, please!"

---

Tags: OPEN
Proximity (in order of appearance): @/Valery Noble || @/Jack Wright || @/Caelan Valoren || @/Kahlil Noble || @/Colette || @/Jonyna Si || @/D1-C3 || @/Nathan Bloodscrawl || @/Phy || @/Corin Trenor || Sorry if I missed you!

 

[Dillon Kai'el]

Tython
Tags: Drystan Creed , Braze

​

"CAN YOU REMEMBER THEM, JE'DAII? THEIR SCREAMS? YOU LEFT THEM BEHIND ON MALACHOR. YOU LEFT YOUR BROTHER BEHIND ON MALACHOR."

"I did. The alternative was to wound the Force. Not that you have any way of understanding that sort of nuance. Your instinct is to devour. There's a level of complexity there that you can't truly comprehend."

Dillon Kai'el stood down the maw of a Drengir, patiently observing as the beast prepared to strike. It's aura was sickening, made to inflict pain and despair onto those who would listen to it's siren call. He was an ancient man, one who had spent multiple lifetimes facing down evil in its purest form. He knew that he was not fully immune. If he was he wouldn't head the Drengir at all.

The words it spoke were his own, that of a younger man with the weight of a thousand regrets.

"YOU CAN'T LIVE WITH THAT TRUTH."

"I can," he stated bluntly. "And I have. I face the future in stride. You will not."

Light spilled off of him, filling the surrounding area with his power. Dillon Kai'el was a Jedi Master, from an era where the strength of their Order was legendary. He shone like a star in the sky, gentle and overwhelming at once. The beast shrunk away and hissed, only to be dragged into Dillon through the Force. Once the eldest Kai'el had grabbed hold of the beast, he tore it in half. It screeched horrifically for a moment, but was then little more than distorted plant matter, singed by the light.

"Ah, I've forgotten how these things reek," the Master laughed, suddenly becoming very jovial. "Smells like Master Plootus after he climbed out of the guts of that Sarlacc."

His hands were tucked into his pockets, his posture slouched and casual. It was as though Dillon Kai'el were out on a morning stroll. A gentle smile played across his face as he nodded to himself in seeming agreement of his own assessment.

A flash—blinding.

Drystan pulled his hand free, stepping back as the drengir stood frozen, its pale green form turned black—a charred sculpture of what it once was, solidified ash still holding its twisted form. He dusted his hand along the fabric of his pants, casting the now-lifeless husk an amused glance.

"There. I think this look suits you better."

And with that, the ash sculpture crumbled, scattering to the forest floor like dust in the wind.

"Neat trick," Dillon remarked as he crouched down, running his finger through the ash that had been left behind from the creature Drystan had slain. He paused, bizarrely putting his finger in his mouth for some reason, as though the taste of the dust would give him some knowledge. "Ah... as I suspected. Charcoal, salt, spirits of the damned."

He stood, up.

"That means these guys are definitely evil," he stated, like he was relaying some profound revelation. "Hope things don't get spooky around here."

 

[Darth Perfidiae]

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| Location | Jungle Ruins, Tython​

| Tags | Corin Trenor ​

​

Deep in the jungle, the Sith known as Perfidiae remained hidden. Despite all that had happened thus far, she had survived, lurking amongst the darkness - a mere shadow, a whisper among whispers. She had survived the New Imperial Order when it rooted the Sith amongst their ranks through Operation Kyber Dark, she had evaded the Jedi, other Sith, Mandalorians, Imperials alike, hidden in isolation and for a long, long time. ​

​

Yet she felt the tug of the Force draw something to her... An inescapable feeling as if time had finally caught up to her. Someone approached, despite how well she hid herself through the Force, even concealed amongst the darkness of the foliage. She lay in waiting, feeling an inexplicable closeness to something she could not quite place her finger on. Whatever it was, it repulsed her.​

​

As the Jedi approached, Perfidiae watched from the shadows, unsure as to how this Jedi had come to stumble his way into her embrace. Whatever the reason, it was a problem that she had somehow been discovered, and here he came like an insect into her web.​

​

From an elevated angle a flash of silver, the hilt of a lightsaber, followed by the familiar burst of crimson as the blade ignited, poised to strike at Corin like an Acklay striking at its prey.​

​

 

[Phoebe Winsloe]

​

Phoebe had been babysitting the freighter that had been acting as a makeshift medical clinic, it had originally just been meant to drop off supplies and lift off again, but there had been so many issues with distribution that it was easier to bring the med-techs to the supplies rather then the medicine to them. Since it was meant to be a milk run and she was just there to have a Jedi act as liaison she'd been assigned to the freighter without being picked by a master as their apprentice.

Phoebe had been making herself useful by working on one of the landing struts that had hit a little rough when they set down, she knew some basic first-aid and medicine but felt more comfortable working on the ship rather than working on people. This put her in a good position to hear the sonic boom of a small ship crashing through the atmosphere, pulling her leather jacket back on Pheobe stepped out to look at the decent path of the ship and figure out if she'd be able to get to it on a speeder or if she'd have to call it in for someone else. Looking up with macrobinoculars she saw that it was coming in almost directly towards the freighter.

"EVERYONE! TAKE COVER!" Phoebe shouted as the ship roared overhead, missing the crowd by meters, and sliding to a halt by a group GADF troopers.

Phoebe stood up and was getting ready to rush over and bring medical supplies until the pilot jumped out, started screaming and killing troopers. She had no idea how whoever this Dooku and where clones came in but someone was killing GADF. Phoebe grabbed her saberstaff from her belt, not igniting it yet and started running over, leaping the last few meters to land next to another Jedi while still giving him enough room to move on his own and finally igniting both blades and holding her weapon in a defencive stance.

Phoebe spoke up as she focused on the killer, "Surrender in the name of the Galactic Alliance or die in the name of your Dooku, whoever he is."


Helax Karezi Nir Si
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[Anguis Dux]

Tag: The Vulptex

The room was full of Imperial Dead. They were all lined up nice and tidy as they slumped and crumpled against the far wall. They each wore the stark white uniforms of the Weapons and Scientific Advancement Bureau.

They hadn't perished at the hands of the Alliance, of course. While Anguis Dux typically allowed others to do the dirty work, he wasn't above getting into the muck. Sometimes, the drudgery of work behind a desk made him reminisce about the bad old days when he did fieldwork for the Alliance in their Special Forces group. Though he didn't reminisce about the dead-end career advancement of that job. Self-employment as a mercenary terrorist was so much more fulfilling. Even the collapsing Dark Empire paid Viper Group better than the Alliance.

However, that didn't mean that Anguis wasn't dipping his hands into the honey pot that side gigs such as this one were offering. Discretely ruffling through the still-twitching corpse of this Empire was proving to be quite lucrative. Such as the gene modification project that these researchers had been working on shortly before he so rudely interrupted them. He ripped the hard drive out of the dying droid on the ground before crushing the machine's head with his boot.

In terms of drastically improving crop yields, it was quite promising, though the fact that it could be weaponized to spread a latent gene to cause mass die-offs after it had spread a sharecrop was even more promising. The threat of a few mass famines here and a few million deaths there might prove to be sufficient to convince a few outer-rim planets to cough up the protection fees they had been holding out on. Though Anguis would be sure to make a demonstration first to show how serious he was.

Something suddenly tingled in his mind. An... odd feeling like there were pinpricks in his skull.

He put the hard drive in his coat pocket and drew his DSP-61x Hybrid Pistol. It had been modified to fit a man of his note, adorned with a silver body and a gold finish.

"It seems that I need to hire a new batch of bodyguards," he said, his back still presented to the doorway. His filtered voice was like both venom and wine. "Though I assume you've already done the job of... reliving them of their contract for me. I should compliment your skill. Despite their apparent failure in this instance, I tend to be very careful when picking my retinue. To overcome them is no small feat. I suppose it wouldn't be amiss of me to ask how the Alliance is treating you. If it's anything like they treated me, I can't imagine it's well. Surely, you'd be interested in a position with a better outlook on promotion and pay."

Given the way he talked, it sure seemed that he loved the sound of his voice.

​

 

[Corin Trenor]

CORIN
JUNGLE RUINS | TYTHON
TAG: Darth Perfidiae

His attention was first swept up at the first glint of flashing silver, a faint glimpse of light peered through the overhead canopies to refract off of it. Then, it fixed upon the red blade thrumming to life as it soared towards him. Corin's mismatched eyes honed in the careening blade, weaving backwards as it narrowly flew beyond him - it seared itself through the trunk of a thick tree trunk, groaning beneath the weight of itself, as it began to crumble towards the jungle floor.

Birds began to soar and screech in response, as Corin bound up the angled trunk as it collapsed.

Corin leapt onto a winding, protruding branch. It was clearer up above from the jungle floor, away from the underbrush. He turned about, following each rustling noise. On Tython, the Force was wounded - it made detecting a concealed signature no easier. He wore concentration with a frowning scowl.

The Force welled around him as he teetered on the precarious edge, reaching out in grasping tendrils to locate so much as anything.

 

[The Vulptex]

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

The infiltration had been much easier than it was last time they had to go undercover against the Dark Empire. The route in had been secured by GADF grunts, and yet the tiny little pest known as 'Agent Vulptex' was the one that was sent in. A redhead in a trenchcoat, an ever trailing scarf and a fox mask.

What they found was a lot of dead. If they hadn't been through SIA training, it would've made their stomach churn. Certainly didn't have this in the Coruscant Underground. Or at least...not as much. The occasional murder, sure, gang violence was pretty prevalent, but nothing like this. This was a graveyard.

They had only been on the books for less than a year, and they were now one of the senior agents on the force. When they reached the door to their destination they heard...

Gods, he sure loves hearing himself talk.

Ducking against the wall, Vulptex planned ahead. The first thing that went into the room was not a grenade, but a smoke bomb, though to the eyes of imperial commander, it looked as if seven had been thrown at once into the room, before erupting in a flash, and filled the room with thick smoke that seemed to blind his sensors.

Then they rushed in, throwing another cloud of crushed particles that stuck to everything, before finally opening fire from the door, not with a blaster, but with a bow. A homemade arrow flew towards the man, right at his chest.

They didn't need to indulge his ramblings.

They were trained to kill.

 

[Colette]

D1-C3

Bang bang and the second nail was in place by the first. Colette put a confident smile on her lips and knelt down to put the third and fourth into place at much the same pace. This fence was starting to look good!

Colette was going to sit idly by to recover her energy and all that, but then the most peculiar thing happened. Seated on her butt it caught her by surprise just as much as the droid when it ran into her.

"Woah woah!" She exclaimed and pushed to her feet. "What're you doing?!"

The kid let out a tired sigh once she realized what had just happened.

"You're that hologram droid." She said and looked back at the temple. They were a bit off from it. This was right on the perimeter to the town over yonder. "You're… A bit off, bud."

"... Unless the temple was a lot bigger back then." She supposed that could've been true too. "You need help, lil' guy?"

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

It had become somewhat of a daily occurrence for the Patriarch to visit his youngest son's farm towards the end of the day, and would often be found sitting on the porch with one or both grandchildren on his lap, delighting in their childlike wonder and curiosity. Thirdas certainly did not complain, as his focus could be better placed towards the plowing of fields or the feeding of their animals, or better yet, allow some alone time for him and Nida.

As Tulan and little Theya busied themselves with the digging of a hole, father and grandfather remained seated on the porch, the former with a tankard of mead and the latter enjoying his pipe. Moments like these, spent with family, reminded the old man there were still joys to be had.

Then, a sudden shift. The King's smile fell from his face, his eyes focused elsewhere. Thirdas recognised his father's look, and as the old man stood he shot out a hand to grab hold of Thurion's arm.

"Must you," he pleaded. "Can't you leave it alone, just this once?"

Thurion simply looked down at his boy, caressing his cheek. "You've found your peace, Thirdas. You've won your war." He lifted his gaze, staring out at the serenity of a simple life. It was everything he and Coci had dreamed of, once. It was a life he could never have. "My war rages yet. I have been called. I must answer."

The Lion afforded one last look at his grandchildren playing, then tore himself from the sight, leaving all notions of joy and peace behind. Where he was going, there was only war. "Always."

​

Thurion vanished, reappering astride another battlefield bedecked in warplate and helmet, stalwart shield in one hand and gleaming blade in the other. He appeared in a maelstrom of winter and wrath; a titanic knight of olden days, arriving in the nick of time to stand between Valery Noble and the foul hordes of corrupt flesh, joining Kahlil Noble in her defense.

The Wellspring Guardians stood together once more, and together they were unbreakable. The initial wave were stopped against the mountainside that was the Shield of Heaven, held at bay whilst Thurion looked back at Valery and Kahlil. "Leave their ilk to us, Lady Noble," said the ancient knight. "Today we avenge the fallen crying out for justice!"

The Lion swung Anarion, its blade aglow with sunlight as it cleaved through corrupt monstrosities at will, immediately besmirching the pristine armour and flowing cloak with their blackened bile and charred innards. Justice given form had taken the field of Tython, summoned in Her greatest hour of need.

And in a sunless realm, the sun rose at last.

 

[D1-C3]

Tag: Colette​

The bot beeped in it's own binary, as if to test if Colette could understand him.

"-.-. .- -. / -.-- --- ..- / ..- -. -.. . .-. ... - .- -. -.. / -- . ..--.."

Dice had always been known for it's strange, archaic language. Most of the time, he communicated through Jonyna's holo comms, but he still occasionally used his old droid language from thousands of years ago.

 

[Helax Karezi]

Tython, Objective IV.​

She blinked.

The first of the two Jedi, who she presumed was a Padawan like their companion, made... coherent enough sense. Even if her teeth gritted and Helax's angered expression found itself fervently driven on by the desire to get escape and get clear of this damnable planet. At least, coherent enough sense compared to what came next...

That being the mention of some kind of Galactic Alliance, which threw the Vahla enough off to actually lower her lightsaber for a few seconds. The Dark Jedi's face scrunched up into a look of sheer, utter, total confusion. Like this Jedi had been addicted to glitter-ryll for too long; the mention of Dooku so flippantly and without respect, however... It angered her. It drove her into a furious rage. Forget trying to leave without killing them on the spot - she was going to do so, and to make them pay in full, bloody, total measure. Her words came hissed out as the air felt hazy and greasy around her, as if it were the innards of some great furnace.

"You're going to pay for such disrespect, Jedi! Your choice of life has been revoked by thine hands!"

And with it, Helax Karezi felt her exhaustion and weariness, alongside her soreness and injuries, fade. Even as bloodied and as worried as she had been, the Vahla hit a second gear of her internal willpower. A hand stretched out as she "punched" her index finger out - telekinetic flinging of a head-sized stone sent flying at Nir Si 's head in a vain attempt to hit, or at least distract him. In the meanwhile, her Niman stance, borrowing from Ataru for some of its maneuvers as well as Shien, saw the blood-red saber temporarily deignited.

She rolled forward in a springing motion; a graceful, cat-like fluid maneuver as she sprang up. The lightsaber snap-hissed back to life as she lashed out with a furious array of blows aimed at forcing Phoebe Winsloe on the defensive, assuming they connected, that is. She may be wounded and perhaps not strong enough to contest them both, but it didn't matter. She wasn't going to become their prisoner; she wasn't going to die to these filthy Jedi that had caused the death of her True-Father, or at least captured and hurt him in some way. Dooku would be saved, yes!

But first, there was the fight to worry about.

Keeping track of Nir Si, the Vahla sought to force the double-bladed lightsaber to her advantage, banking on taking advantage of any discoordinated efforts she could find. She wanted to go for a nasty blow... But, well, it depended on whether or not she could actually even connect with a hit.

Time was not ticking in her favor; she'd exhaust herself if she didn't find some way to pry open their defenses, and fast...

Phoebe Winsloe Nir Si

 

[Colette]

D1-C3

There were two very big and very immediate problems here. Firstly, Colette never learned binary because she had never had droids around growing up. Secondly, this sounded very unlike any other binary she had ever heard before.

She blinked at the robot.

"You broken?" She asked and began to check the little fella's plating. "Can't see any damages, I don't think…"

"Do you, uh… Speak normal?"

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Nathan felt relief that she didn't seem to remember him.

"At once, Master Si..." he replied tonelessly, heading down to the lower levels with the others. There would be no creeping about alone. Not here. This was too important...

He would have to conduct his search for traps in an area already being cleared.

"No one dared to ask him questions, no dared to make a slip, the Jedi there among them had a saber in his grip..." Nathan murmured the lyrics to an old song under his breath as he walked away, his eccentricity building as time went on. His power was growing. Some knights noticed he was getting stronger. It had helped him get the drop on more than a few Sith.

He conducted his sweeps quietly, avoiding the gazes of other Jedi. He was out of sight, out of mind for most of them as he located multiple conventional traps, and even a few supernatural ones.

They were extremely difficult to locate, even with his experience. Even with the scanners.

But as he swept the emptied chambers, he doubled over in pain as he felt a powerful surge of the Dark Side.

There was screaming suddenly.

"LIIIIIIICH!" a knight shouted in panic as others scrambled away from a collapsing floor, a bony hand holding a Sith Sword sticking out.

"LIIIIIIIIIIIIICCCHHHH!" the Knight shouted again as the Sith Lich the departing empire had left behind as a surprise burst through, covered in rags and a glittering golden crown, cackling as it began firing bursts of purple lightning everywhere, hitting a few of the nearby knights and masters quickly and Forcing Nathan to immediately engage, hurling heavy objects on it to get its attention. It had distinctly feminine cackles, and Nathan, already mentally unstable, couldn't resist the urge to make a Campbell reference.

"Hey, She-Witch. Let's go!" Nathan quipped with uncharacteristic smarminess as he whipped out an old lever action rifle he had found while scouring the place , leaping on to a repulsor cart holding tools and firing at it repeatedly in the chest as the cart moved forward.

The Lich screamed as it's dusty ribcage was exploded and it was flung backwards, Nathan having run out of ammo and now just brutally bashing it's skull in with the butt of his scavenged rifle.

The Lich wasn't dead yet. It telekinetically floated a now active lightsaber and flung it at a surprised Jedi just as his rifle butt smashed through it's skull and destroyed the housing for its spirit, allowing other Jedi to immediately use Force Light as it tried to escape.

But that lightsaber was still flying towards the chest of that Jedi, and Nathan knew he was only fast enough to teleport himself. The half second it would take to teleport the Jedi or the lightsaber out of the way was a second too long and he did not trust his ability to catch it in time with how fast it was moving.

He reacted on instinct, teleporting next to the Jedi and shoving him out of the way of the blade slice...

And losing his own left arm below the elbow in the process...

Nathan dropped to the ground, in shock, but only for a moment. He rose, the pain nearly blinding. He didn't scream.

Screaming would be a display of weakness in his eyes.

He stood up, looking at his severed arm and the destroyed Lich skeleton not far off. Still on the verge of actually fainting from the agony, he shakily pulled out his com-link and contacted Jonyna Si .

"Master Si, Lich has been eliminated. It was hidden under the floor..."

Nathan then finally fainted from the pain as the medics rushed him...

 

[Amelia Hawthorne]

Objective II
Tags: Dean Walker | Katarine Ryiah | Allyson Locke
​

Hawthorne let out an audible curse, the moment the alarms came blaring out across the facility.

It had been barely five minutes since the Chiss had explained the situation to the Agents that were present. The SIA had speculated this place to be related to the Dark Empire’s Intelligence department. Given Tython wasn’t within their borders, it was likely for them to have constructed a Forward Operating Base in order to store whatever they had collected, before it would be sent to the Empire proper.

And with their rapid retreat from these Core worlds, there was a high likelihood some of their forces had stayed behind, hunkered down to protect the facility.

“Alright everyone, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover in an increasingly short amount of time. We need to find the right data terminals and banks, their main storage server. And given how large this interior is, we’re possibly dealing with multiple.”

Hawthorne paused, glancing over at those present. “We reconvene here to exfil, understood?” A second of affirmative replies, before everyone sprinted off in their different directions. The Chiss’ eyes fell on Dean and Katarine, the two not wasting a moment as they dashed off into the facility.

For Hawthorne? Her goal was to find the facility’s security room. Something told her it would be impossible to shut off the self-destruct, but if she could at least slow it down?

She’d give her Agents as much additional time as possible.

 

[Darth Perfidiae]

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| Location | Jungle Ruins, Tython​

| Tags | Corin Trenor ​

​

The saber guided by the unseen hand flew past the Jedi, slashing its way through thick tree trunk before twirling and spiraling in place, the crimson blade pointing itself in the direction that Corin had lept to. It seemed keenly aware where the Jedi was, as if taunting him with his inability to locate its owner. The Jedi would find it difficult to pinpoint where his assailant was as the teeming life of the jungle did well to conceal her presence.​

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A voice like a whisper echoed around the young Jedi, seeming to come from the shadows that surrounded him, "Sharp reflexes Jedi, let's hope that will be enough to keep that head of yours on your shoulders." ​

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The statement was punctuated by the sound of another saber igniting, this one much closer as it came spinning at the branch Corin was balanced upon, flying at where the branch met trunk like a sawblade, the other saber that Corin initially dodged also beginning to spin before launching itself directly at Corin.​

​

 

[Corin Trenor]

CORIN
JEDI RUINS | TYTHON
TAG: Darth Perfidiae

Disembodied voices crawled and crept around him, as if gnarled fingers tore out from the depths of the shadows. Dun Möch. He knew it from experience, from both ends of the use. He did not allow those twisted sounds to rupture his focus, steeling his mind in defense against them.

His frown worsened at the words, even further once the branch beneath him began to creak and snap and splinter. Corin went to make another swift leap and yet the lightsaber aimed towards his face had forced his hand instead. He snatched at the worn and weathered hilt of his lightsaber, igniting the roaring purple blade for all of a moment; it thundered, crackling, as if ruptured as it swat aside a crimson blade, then stowed once again.

Corin jumped from the branch, his final push being all that it needed to fall, and landed atop another.

"You can't hide forever," said Corin, once more treading along a branch after a narrower call. His eyes abound, searching.

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

Objective II​

Tags: Dean Walker Amelia Hawthorne Allyson Locke


Katarine had seemingly found her place within the Galactic Alliance and for that she couldn't be happier. Things were so different than they were in the Republic before the Clone Wars but now Katarine seemed welcome among the SIA agents, despite her stature as a Jedi. Dean was one agent was particularly welcoming in fact. They listened to the briefing by Agent Hawthorne and then began to scatter. Katarine felt Dean's strong hand clasp around hers and together they sprinted off in a desperate race against the clock.

They met opposition quickly and Dean took care of one with a blaster while the other dove for cover. The pair sprinted past the agents, rushing without truly knowing where they were headed. Despite the mad dash, she couldn't help but feel a flutter in her heart as his hand held hers. This attraction to her partner was getting stronger, despite all attempts to lessen it.

"Kat, we do not have time for this,"

He spoke out, just as the imperial they had passed started to tail them. Katarine turned and with a quick round house kick the imperial hit the floor. They rounded a corner where a locked door lead to one of the terminals. Dean would need to slice in but three other imperials quickly rounded another corner up ahead.

"Get the door! I'll handle the goon squad."

She slipped her delicate hand out of his strong one, lamenting the warmth of his skin against hers. With a snaphiss her white blade sprung to life as blaster bolts started. The blade caught them effortlessly, protecting Dean behind her. Not a single shot would find the man. Not on Kat's watch. She wouldn't allow harm to find him.

 

[Taam Moghul]

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Objective: Objective IV
Equipment: Kta Dom Lya Lightsaber Cathar Armored Jacket Cracken Survival Kit
Tag: Caltin Vanagor

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The burly Cathar knight stalked the ruins of Tython. The devastation was almost overwhelming, its true extent unseen at the time of the battle, now revealed in all its horrors to Taam. War was destructive, and the Alliance forces had caused ruin as well in their conflicts, but not like the Sith. The Dark Side compelled its servants to annihilate and destroy without restraint. Such evil stirred anger in Taam's heart.

A large hand laid on a piece of unrecognizable twisted metal, blackened by fire. Sharp claws extended to drag along the warped beam, leaving silvery grooves in the inky soot. His amber eyes lifted to survey the surroundings. It was there, in the spot he stood, that his...their...final battle on Tython took place.

In his mind's eye, the battle replayed. Jonyna Si and he encountered a Knight of Ren, Detritus Ren . The two Cathar Jedi fought hard, together, against the powerful Darksider. The Ren sensed the connection between Taam and Jonyna, and leveraged it. In the end, Taam was defeated. But perhaps the hardest blow he took was when his opponent didn't finish him off. As if Taam was not even worth killing.

At one time, the memory of that had crushed his soul. It stripped him of his power, and in the depths of his pain, Taam walked away from the best thing in his life, Jonyna.

He was no longer plagued by his past, and he stood tall in the place where he had fallen. Jonyna had moved on, but had forgiven him. Valery Noble had befriended him and helped him restore his soul.

The Cathar took a deep breath. The air was still tainted by the smell of destruction. But with that breath the Force coursed through him, offering peace where he had known pain, and temperance where he felt deep anger. His claws retracted and his hand slid from the metal. Brushing off the black soot rom his palm.

Tython had been a downfall. Now it was a marker in his life that compelled Taam to rise above, to excel. The Cathar Knight turned and bounded through the desolation. There were still enemies present, and as his peers helped to heal and rebuild the world, Taam would aid in the effort to purge it of the remnants of its destroyers.

Taam headed into the forests outside of the temple. He was his best in places like forests and jungles, places like his home on Kashyyyk. He sensed a presence in the Force, one he hadn't felt since...

Jakku Enclave. He had just turned Tigris from the Dark Side and delivered her there to begin training as a padawan. It was on Jakku where he last had seen Caltin Vanagor. Soon, the hulking man could be seen moving through the trees. Taam's furred brow furrowed. Caltin looked like he'd been planetside for a while. Weary, like a giant ghost wandering through the forest.

 

[Box Mattox]

Rathtar - Battleborn Flagship
Entering Orbit
Objective IV - Empire Left Behind
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The life of a mercenary was rarely a dull one in the galaxy, nowadays. Two Empires had collapsed almost simultaneously. One had dropped his contract. The other had picked it up. Such was the way of things.

Box Mattox touched the control on the arm-rest of his command chair, sending his voice all throughout the ship.

"This is the Captain. The job is simple: We go down, we pick up, and anyone who gets in our way is planted. You've done hot extracts a hundred times before, but don't get complacent. Keep your heads on a swivel.

All right girls and boys, let's make some noise. I'll see you on the ground."
With that, he rose up and put his helmet on.

"Bring back a lightsaber for me, Cap," Grizzy said as he approached to take the command chair.

"Grizzy, if I see a Jedi down there, I'm running the other way," Box said, and the two men shared a chuckle.

Moments later, a squadon of tac pods were breaking atmo.

As the transports descended, Box wondered if there really would be Jedi down there. It was possible. The Empire was being pushed out by the GA. If so, he'd do his job. They all would.

But it wasn't an especially savory possibility.




@Empire Reborn
Dark Empire