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Comm traffic caused Arla's HUD to alert her to a report from their source on Tython. The attack had begun. She scanned the databurst, looking over the report. It seemed as if the first assault of the Dark Empire was tentative and cautious. Scouts and advance recon elements. To be sure the ground battle had begun, but where was the armada?
The Galactic Alliance too, seemed to her eye slow to respond. Were Arla in command here, she would have ensured that a significant battle line was ready to respond to the GA's enemy. But she was not in command. She was here on her own mission.
Arla felt Ordo
's presence, and then the popkern hitting her in the shoulder and then the deck. Arla ignored him with an effort of will. "I know, i know, they're taking their time." She said. Her companion was a force of nature; once unleashed, he would be a massively chaotic influence on the situation. She couldn't predict what he could do; and she couldn't, then neither could the enemy. "Soon, big guy."
She kept her own impatience in check by reappraising the jump coordinates for the third time. It would not do for their allied carriers to emerge near her own Monarch and Valiance. It would equally not do for her surprise to be sprung before the enemy arrived in strength. She felt reassured now, the intel seemed good. It was now only a matter of time before there were targets aplenty.
Elise Vizsla Mandalorian Protector. Student of Mia Monroe . Pupil of Siyarr Ahan-Mitharran . Third Dreamrune of the Novanian Shamans. Alor'ad of Vercopa Squad. Dreamseer.
Another Scar Hound fell. Elise Vizsla looked up, her pistol's barrel still smoking, as she watched Olivia Vizsla finish off two more with her electrostaff. The sector was finally cleared. Vercopa's Squad's commander quickly tracked the Force Signatures of all her squad member's. She looked up, to where Choruk Ordo was likely reloading his sniper rifle from his current perch. Elise activated her comlink, about to address her squad, when a bright light interrupted her thoughts. A signal flare was high in the sky, detonating. It was only a block over.
Elise's eyes widened. Were more troops in trouble?
<<"Alor'ad, I know what you're thinking.">> Olivia sounded frustrated, but also worried. <<"What if it's a trap?>>"
Elise scoffed, albeit fondly, at Olivia's protest. And yet, she knew there was a hint of truth to it. As the rest of the squadron surrounded them, save for Choruk, she nodded. <<"Then we will proceed with caution. Choruk, I want you to scout ahead, and tell us what's going on over there. We will be just behind you.">>
<<"Got it, Alor'ad.">>
As Choruk took off with his jetpack, Vhekad Rook sighed. <<"Your eagerness to save aruetiise on the front lines never fails to baffle me, Alor'ad.">>
Elise scoffed again, <<"Someday, Vhekad, you'll realize that the galaxy is more than Us Versus Them.>>"
From around the corner, another group of Dark Empire troops came around. This time, it was Stormtroopers of the Imperial remnants. Dinui Krayt and Ori' Rodarch opened fire with their longer ranged rifles as Vhekad and Azalea Rodarch stepped in front to provide ray protection against the incoming blaster fire. Olivia sighed, drawing her rifle from her back, and ducking behind a rock. Elise activated her plasma shield and used it and her beskar'gam plating to block incoming fire as she darted towards the guard. She drew Copad'kal, activating the Plasma Cutter and slicing through the trooper's armor with it. Upon realizing that the plasma cutter was stronger than their armor, the Stormtroopers produced electro-weapons instead. Elise suddenly disapeared, fading into thin air as she activated both her stealth tech and her Force Stealth. She skidded to the left, while a copy of herself skidded to the right. Elise Vizsla became visible, raising her pistols to attack. As the troopers all turned their attention to the clone Elise uncloaked and slit the throat of another stormtrooper. Meanwhile. Dinui and Ori succeeded in hitting several more. As the illusion dissipated, Elise drew her Mandalorian Ripper and started firing on the troops from up close, Copad'kal in hand. The combined efforts were soon joined by Vhekad rushing the troopers from the other side. And soon, they too were dead on the ground. As Vercopa Squad reloaded their equipment, Choruk's voice crackled through the comlinks.
<<"Situation looks grim. There's a Terentatek down there, and a lot of troops are dead down on the streets. I think there's survivors though, if we could take that beast-...">>
Elise's jetpack roared as she put Copad'kal and her pistol away. <<"Terentatek's are thirsty for the blood of Force Sensitives. I will go in first, providing a distraction, before the rest of the squad attacks. Got it?
And so, they were off. The squad all activated their stealth gear, except Elise, as they slipped into the terentatek's turf. Elise not only had her own Force Signature to attract the monster, but both Tar'Nau and Iviin'cer emitting their own Force Auras. The terentatek immediately swerved around, facing Elise, with hunger in its eyes. Elise drew her spear, retracting it and holding it at full length. She held it in a defensive posture, glaring at it. <<"Come here, boy., I know you want to...>>"
Even as the rest of the squadron snuck around the beast, readying themselves to pounce from the shadows, Choruk's alarmed voice entered the com channel, <<"Guys! You're not alone! Look out, he's-">>
Elise could already sense him, above them. His Force Signature was strong, and she gritted her teeth, <<"He's Force Sensitive too! Attack the beast, I've got him!">>
As Mandalorian Ripper fire ascended upon the terentatek from all sides, Elise sharply changed course. Olivia Vizsla jumped directly between her and the monster, distracting it if it tried to pursue her. Elise, meanwhile, held her beskar spear in hand as she raced to meet the hunter. The ambushers had become the ambushed, but Elise was not about to let an Elite Force User take the lives of her vode.
<<"Your fight,">> She lifted her spear as she shouted, <<"Is with me!">>
"It certainly seems like the more favorable option," Korr remarked with a wry smirk, noticing the subtle disappointment laced in his opponent's tone. If there was any satisfaction to be found in this duel, it was in knowing that his defiance had unsettled the Sith.
A faint rustle caught Korr's attention, prompting a momentary pause in his movements. Though no disturbance was visible in his peripheral vision, he instinctively reached out with the Force, halting the incoming projectile just inches from his body.
Now forced onto the defensive, Korr shifted his stance, ready to meet his opponent's next onslaught. With calculated precision, he intercepted a strike, feigning a clash before deactivating his blade at the last moment, swiftly evading the attack.
Capitalizing on the opening if his feint had proved fruitful, Korr aimed a swift kick towards his opponent's side, aiming to disrupt their balance and create an opportunity for himself. "Instead of meeting my demise, how about you consider surrender?" With space cleared, Korr reactivated his lightsaber, poised to counter any retaliation from the Sith.
Every individual that were Force-strong possessed precognitive abilities. It was how Lightsaber combat worked. In the flurry of blades and the whir of flashing lights clashing against one another their wielders were not merely re-acting to the other but predicting what the other was going to do next as the almost imperceptible movements were guided by the Force itself. The stronger you were in the Force the better you were at using it to flow through you and in turn it would guide you to safety, or tell you where to attack, or even where to be.
Since the end of her incarceration on Coruscant Ayra had returned to training daily in private. Two decades of inactivity had taken it's toll and so it had taken time for her to re-master the technique of Soresu. Of course, Vulpesen was not equal to the PROXY droids Ayra had used in secret to practise her form but it did mean that the woman was not rusty in the same manner a cage fighter prepares a camp to train and prepare for a fight unlike the one Ayra was in now.
WOOSH!
The speed and power behind the projectiles were strong but predictable. With the dark side flowing through her Ayra's Force Senses told her of the immediate danger she was in, and in the split second it took for Vulpesen to throw the daggers at her she was already moving out of the way, narrowly dodging them. She hadn't even had time to look at where the daggers had embedded themselves. Opening up her body and assuming the opening stance of Soresu Ayra baited Vulpesen with Dun Moch:
"You are right. I did take a hostage, now that I remember him. The boy had squealed like a girl when I snatched him on that day. He was lucky I only broke his leg!"
Makai was confident in his ability to lift Casteel up and maintain such a hold while the man undid the grate. Then it would be nothing to boost Casteel enough up through to the top. There was literally nothing mechanical about it, more just common sense. Secondly, he was considered about the ability of the blonde being able to jump up high enough and pull his body weight to bring the rest of him topside.
"Are you sure you're able to...?"
In reality, they more most likely evenly matched, especially if their bout in the ring was any indication. If anything, the half-Galan decided he could lay on his stomach and reach his hands through to offer assistance. They didn't have much time to argue the situation of who was stronger and who could do what ; that was for schoolchildren.
"No, Ellie would never propose. More like..."
Foot was put into the 'step' Casteel had made with his hands, lifting up to reach the grate. Fingers latched onto the metal and he promptly pulled back, purposely pulling his body weight down on the grate and away from Casteel, landing back on the decking with a thud, much like a loth cat. Grate in hand, he tossed it aside.
Makai craned his head up as he spoke, assessing his work. He should be able to make it through topside now. Head tipped back down and indicated to Casteel to weave his hands back together again.
"....I asked if she would be ready to be engaged next year. Ellie said not to make her wait. So we pushed the plans to be married by mid-summer. Who am I to make her wait? If we had an official available at one o'clock in the morning we would have done it right then."
Foot went back into Casteels hands and Makai grabbed the edge of the topside of the turbolift, pulling himself up to the top of the lift. Things seemed stable for now and he moved to let Casteel attempt on his own first ; a matter of masculinity and pride after all.
Spindly moved forward with her own troops through the streets of the city, forward with the other former Mawite units, closer and closer to the enemy forces. She and her men had been waiting a long time to fight a normal opponent. The Scar Hounds have remained in the Unknown Region for the last twenty-five years, so she has mainly led raids against the remnants of the Eternal Empire. And a collapsed empire is never as powerful or challenging as a state like the Galactic Alliance. Although her brain injuries had recovered, she had not regained her memories, so her political and diplomatic skills had not really returned, and she could not have analysed GA in this way. In other words, the sociology and social sciences would have been a great challenge for her, only in military and maybe fleet terms would she have been able to.
So the twi'lek woman didn't know if their opponent was in decay, or if it was past its golden age, or if it was still in its golden age, and you could go on and on. What is certain is that they were apparently caught off guard by the attack. Or so she thought. Even she knew that the galaxy hadn't seen wars as big as the Maw's since its fall. And she also knew that in peacetime people would be soft, weak. They will only be fit to be heard here, and the Dark Three will have their souls, as in the old days. It's time to feed the Avatars like the old days.
She wore lighter armour to make her movements lighter, faster and more acrobatic, her helmet alone was what appeared to be heavy and robust. On her side were numerous energy cells linked together, and these led to a staff in her hand, a rather strange weapon. Ordinary people might have mistaken it for a stick, but when the team led by the woman ran into a group of GA defenders, it became apparent why the energy cells were attached to the metal stick. It was an exotic weapon known as an exotic laser rifle hidden inside the stick.
She grinned widely under her helmet as she shot one of the soldiers in the chest at point-blank range, leaving him lying dead on the ground with a huge burn wound. The grin was accompanied by a flash of needle-sharp teeth and a look of demonic or madness, though the helmet prevented outsiders from seeing it. However, it was not yet time for them to stop. The twi'lek woman waved her hand in front of her, gesturing for them to keep moving forward, towards the defenders. As the group did so, they could already hear explosions from countless places. And the shouts and sounds of battle were carried far away by the wind and echoed down countless deserted streets.
She was looking forward to finally finding her opponent. Spindly had long wanted to find a Jedi opponent, or a corpse. She had a dream sent to her by the Avatars, or so she thought. In her dream, she wielded a lightsaber and fought the Jedi with it. She was fighting the Peacekeepers of the galaxy with their own weapon, so ironic and glorious was it to overcome the enemy as in the dream. She silently said a prayer to the Dark Three, asking for their help to make the dream come true and for herself to be even better able to serve the Avatars. With a lightsaber, she could send them more souls. Finally, the sounds of war grew louder in the deserted streets…
… and finally they turned into another street with a square at the end. This was the part where, if all is true, Silas Westgard
and his men were.
Eina didn't have to wait long in this situation; in fact, she would have been glad if she had, because it would have meant that the enemy wasn't coming after all. But that was not the case now. She could feel the dark auras arriving in the space around the planet, and in the atmosphere, and then on the planet. Because she was a Force Entity, she could also feel exactly how countless lives were already being lost up there in space, in the battle that was being formed. It was precisely because of this that she could already feel and see her companions, invisible to the living, already present in this place. Members of Valkyrja and the Children of Ashla. They waited to escort souls to the Netherworld, and to offer those who were worthy the opportunity to join.
She also sensed countless auras, both familiar and unfamiliar, in the Force; in fact, Eina hoped that most of these dark figures would never reappear. She wondered where they had been, the Sith Order had never been as aggressively expansive as these. She sometimes wondered if it was Darth Solipsis or something else? It didn't really matter, because she sensed that someone was heading towards herself. Another familiar aura with whom she had had a previous confrontation. She had found this aura to be an abomination even then, but it was even more terrible now than it had been a quarter of a century ago.
Eina turned towards the voice and saw the shape of the shade-woman that Onrai had appeared in, but in the Force she saw the real shape of the other woman, which was horrible. Ashla's Avatar had seen many terrible things done to souls, for she had seen what the Dark Three - War, Death and Rebirth - did to members of the Scar Hounds Tribe in particular, half-eaten and then regurgitated souls, merged with other half-living souls. But this? She knew that in that case the mortals had no choice, and they were being made to do what they did by force. But this? Here's what she probably did to herself voluntarily. Eina had seen the cubes in the Force, she had seen Onrai's true appearance, and she found it horrifying.
"What have you done to yourself?" asked the Light of Ashla.
That was all she asked for now, she did not respond to the challenge. Partly because she will not make any offensive move towards the other woman, until Onrai attacks. Regardless of the fact that Onrai was now an abomination in Eina's eyes, she still saw her as a living being, not a creature of the Netherworld. For that very reason, Eina had to figure out how to repair and heal Onrai's soul, not how to kill the other woman. Eina didn't like killing the living if she didn't have to; that wasn't her job, she only had to escort souls to the afterlife. If possible, she gave everyone a chance, or at least tried to save souls…
Location: Tython - Reaching the Elarian Trail, just outside Kaleth
TAG ALLIES: Elias Edo
TAG ENEMIES: Maestus
"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)
"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, HK-88 (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)
Some may even say “childish”, and in most cases, they would be right.
Not to beat a dead Ronto, “Caltin Vanagor” was a name that many Sith, and allies out there today knew of. The powerful, wise Jedi Master that had a counter for everything and often finished a fight with little to no combative effort, looks, and words often sent his potential opponents away as quickly as possible.
This is not that Caltin Vanagor.
This “Caltin” resembled his younger self, a “point me in the bad guy’s direction, and stay out of my way mindset, and now the lack of emotional connection to back it up. As he made his way through the Mountain pass leading up to the Elarian Trail, Caltin took advantage of the “liberated” comm unit he looted off of an incapacitated Sith Recon patrol. There were calls of reaction, some calls recognized him, some were just yelling in fear. This could be used to his advantage. Even now, Caltin was not going to inspire mental torment in those who would be called to intercept him. They were nothing more than waypoints to get to his goal. Take for example the sweeper team approaching him now.
[“Overwatch - This is Zakash Leader, the Jedi has engaged us! We need reinfor*Weapons Fire*”]
[“Overwatch! This is 2, we’re pulling back and regrouping at fallback point Zeta.”]
[“This is Overwatch, “2” you are now Zakash Leader, get to the fallback point, we will send in an airstrike.”]
That tore it, the troops were nothing special. They were good at their job, GREAT, but were not given the advantages of specialized troops. They were not paid enough to face down a Jedi either(though, none of them would say this out loud). If the Jedi coward was going to fight them, he would fight them en masse. The new team leader directed each member to be positioned around the giant statue that greeted visitors passing through those enormous arches. The ambush points would keep the Jedi at bay, and with any luck, render him incapable of doing anything.
The airstrike was incoming. They all could see it. A flight of two ties coming in at attack speed and strafing the ground just outside Kaleth. A couple of Zakash squad cheered, hooted and hollered. Their exuberance was premature as while it did not give away their positions, “4” saw a very large bolt of lightning barrel down from the skies and slam into the port solar panel of the lead fighter sending her careening into the path of the other. Only the other was suddenly immobilized in mid air leaving the lead fighter to slam into the ground and cut a emblazoned swath through the forest, struggling, shaking and rumbling as if trying to break the grip of whatever held it, the fighter slowly crumpled into a ball and fell where it hung to the ground in a fiery crash.
[“What the?]
[“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me?”]
[You brought this on yourselves.]
“Leader” was definitely not going to take threats like this, not from a Jedi coward.
[“We’re gonna find you, and kill you Jedi! In the worst way you can think of!]
[Unless you want to live what your teammates went through, I will give you one word of advice. “Run”.]
In the sanctum of her dark meditative chamber, Sinestra's mind plunged into the swirling abyss of the Force, demanding guidance. Visions cascaded through her consciousness like fragments of shattered dreams. Gritting her teeth, the seer delved deeper into the swirling depths of her visions, fighting to discern meaning from the chaotic fragments. Each fleeting glimpse teased her with glimpses of faces and places, but nothing coalesced into clarity. Frustration gnawed at her as she struggled to grasp the elusive threads of destiny.
The maelstrom of images shifted, taking her aback as it bathed her mind in a sinister hue of crimson. Before her, Sularen's visage emerged, lifeless upon the bridge of his flagship. Sinestra's heart raced as she realized the significance of his death unfolding in her mind's eye—the Grand Admiral's fate was intertwined with the Darth Solipsis' grand design.
Sinestra abruptly emerged from her trance, her brow damp with sweat as she staggered to her feet and hurried to alert the Emperor.
NIV Predator,
Tython Space
Now...
Sinestra's mind churned with a dread as the turbolift of the NIV Predator ascended towards the bridge. The weight of her vision, of the potential future she had glimpsed, bore down upon her like a crushing weight. She could feel the tendrils of uncertainty tightening around her heart, threatening to suffocate her with the fear of failure. It invoked the memories of a past life, of a weak girl standing helpless, unable to prevent her father's demise.
A constant, agonizing reminder gnawing at her heart.
The seer clenched her jaw, steeling herself, burning the anguish and fear away into tempered rage to fuel her resolve.
As the turbolift drew nearer to its destination, Sinestra's senses prickled with a foreboding chill. A cold, sinister presence enveloped her, sending a shiver down her spine.
A familiar presence.
But not one she would welcome.
Sinestra squared her shoulders and stepped forward unto the bridge of the NIV Predator.
EMPRESS TETA
OBJECTIVE: PLANETARY SHIELD DEFENSE.
POSITIONS: NORTH BY NORTH EAST TO EAST BY NORTH EAST(?)
OPPOSING: Thomas Barran
ALLIES: I'dadr GargonRuus Kote
Assests: Artillery batallion, Heavy support Infantry (E-web nest and MT-40g- MK-19 equivalent) and 2 Basilisk Wardroid Squadrons (24 units)
Skirata stood near a holoprojector, arms crossed left over right as he observed the intelligence sent from the GA. It was scant but enough to begin.
"Odd Artillery units begin bombardment along the line followed by even units at a five second intervals." He began issuing orders as He sacnned the screen. "Heavy Infantry support along main routes and intersections. If it doesn't show on HUD as friendly kill it. Civilians had plenty of time to evacuate. If they're still here they're a combatant."
"SHEV" The commanding office, a large woman with her buy'ce clipped to her belt, "Where's that Caff?!"
"Coming, Ma'am." He said calmly, "I was just relaying your orders."
"Did you tell the Basilisk to begin leveling buildings to create fewer avenues of egress?"
"Yes, ma'am!" He said as he sent the last order that he most certainly hadn't sent yet, "Of course."
Braze was thoroughly enjoying his time with his new friends, enjoying the interaction and the play of force, when their pleasant conversation was abruptly interrupted by an unwelcome presence and ensuing chaos.
"Excuse me, Glow-Princess~," Braze quipped with a cheeky tone pffering her a quick playful wink, spinning on his heel to confront the new, ominous figure. A mix of concern, fear, and defiance surged within him. Despite his preparation for a leisurely day out, donned in crisp white and black robes, none of that seemed to matter now.
His somber jade green eyes flickered, quickly taking in the scene. It was clear the intruder was interested in him, not his friends, one of whom was not a seasoned fighter. At a disadvantage, lacking proper gear, and with a civilian to protect, Braze and his friends faced what appeared to be an undead Sith with a hate-obession for his master. The odds were decidedly not in his favor.
Time seemed to slow, and the surrounding noise faded to a hush as Braze entered a state of hyper-focus. "You two should try to find Aetherand take the Ray, or another way out," he suggested to Aris, hoping his friend would catch his drift.
Then, Braze's voice rose with brazen audacity as he addressed the intruder. "Well, if it isn't Mr. Stench himself," he taunted, sidestepping cautiously to the left to position himself in front of Lord Kalrath
's frontal flank.
"You reek like you've just crawled out of a grave," he declared, his mind racing with strategies to divert the stranger's attention away from his friends. Like a cornered fox, his demeanor tense, poised and ready for action.
"What do you want with us, worms-for-brains? State what buissness you have for my master. " Braze challenged, summoning his saber hilt to his hand with a dramatic gesture, yet refraining from igniting it just yet, his brash defiance clear in every word and movement.
Why had she come? To Tython and The Ancient Temple. She was not here the last time Darth Solipsis
and the Maw had visited the planet. She had begun pursuing her private interests more by that point. Questions began to surface; Thoughts she'd not dare give voice to all those years ago. Observing the words and actions of those around her slowly lifted the veil that had blurred her vision. It wasn't long before words and actions differing on more levels than she was willing to overlook. Witnessing such behaviors lit the ignition switch somewhere deep within her being.
That was why she had decided to finally go to Tython. The dirt that her boots dug into as she meandered through the trees that cradled The Temple. Her mind was unbalanced, and it was most discomfiting to her. As a child, she knew nothing of The Force but what she'd overhear when hanging around the spaceport on Ryloth. She'd discovered her own Force sensitivity quite young, and it frightened her. For all of 2 seconds. Born into slavery, she hid her talents from any and all. No mentor to guide a young, scared freshly discovered Force Sensitive. So, Maestus had made her own way. Took what worked and screw the rest. Back then, she gave to thoughts to Light or Dark. She was simply surviving one day to the next. By whatever means necessary. Cpnsidering herself "Evil or Dark" hadn't crossed her mind.
Ever the master manipulator, he touched, bent and twisted her into what she eventually became for a long, long time. Brutal. Efficient. Savage. And she discovered a latent hunger for knowledge that had been given the keys to the kingdom. She was the architect of her own downfall. Then she began considering alternatives. There was more to The Force than light / dark. Nothing else that Maestus knew of, and she was extremely well-learned, nothing was only one way or the other. As it's commonly said, "Only Sith deal in absolutes". What does that mean in relation to the Force itself, then? If absolutes are part and parcel of being Sith, then was The Force an inherently dark entity?
That was one of a myriad of questions pouring through her mind while wormed through the trees and various shrubberies creating a thick protective barrier for The Temple. She had on simple pants and a loose tank style shirt. Both cut from durable yet flexible black fabric. Other than the stitching all being done with dark red thread, she kept it much more utilitarian these days. Simple belt from which two different weapon hilts hung. One her left, her saber hilt. Plain and simple. One her right hip hung Maestus Fury, the lightwhip she handcrafted long ago. The only other thing on her person, besides the thick and black runic tattoos that covered much of her Lethan skin, was a cheap and gawdy looking pendant necklace round her throat, tucked into her tank shirt. Even though the pendant was hidden, the foreboding sense of evil, savagery was floating from the Dragon Shield Talisman.
As for the aura Maestus carried through the flora surrounding The Temple? To deny the darkness she held would be tantamount to denying she was Twi'lek. Both equally impossible to deny. Beyond the cracks and streaks thrown across her face like an abstract painter, it was something she simply chose not to deny. But, she was not only the darkness. Only the savage and cruel deeds that stain what remains of her soul.
She is thinking. She is questioning. Seeking something to clear the cobwebs that threaten to blind her to some obviousness she is missing. So, Tython it is. The Force Planet of Balance.
Talon could only shake his head in disappointment as he was to meet yet another rude Sith. He had the gall to kick open the front door and even dish out insults? The large man raised a brow as he raised the flask to his lips. ”Remind me not to invite you to a party then. You’re such a buzzkill.” Perhaps the last bit was Talon being genuine, but it was difficult to tell unless people actually knew him. He took another swig from the flask as Wallgof raised his hand.
There were few that bothered to venture into the aspect of control over one’s body and mind. Especially not to the degree that Talon was infamously known for. Drugs, alcohol, and even medicine except for kolto had very little effect on him these days. Once he could outdrink a wookiee at a cantina and would only be a little tipsy. This was simply because his level of control allowed him to purge the nasty side effects that drugs were known for, and unfortunately this also meant that Talon rarely ever got really drunk. Instead he merely maintained a facade, as Wallgof would no doubt quickly find out.
Talon felt the Sith invading his mind by attempting to lure with sweet nothings and promise of slumber. He briefly closed his eyes, instead of merely resisting the Jedi pondered the suggestion before his eyes of green like the lustrous leaves on Kashyyyk flashed open at Wallgof. Instead the Jedi used the established connection through the Force of their minds not to induce a suggestion nor a mind trick. Rather Talon instead intended to induce a sense of Wallgof’s equilibrium against him. Inducing a severe case of dizziness and nausea as it were. Talon would of course only smile with a chuckle as he lifted a finger from his flask to point at the Darth in question.
”Yeah, sorry you’d have to get me more booze to have any sway on me. But then again you’re not my type either.”
Objective: To fulfill her own agenda (Objective 3)
Location: Ground, Tython
Equipment: ???
Direct Tag: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
| Closed
Tags: Open
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The nature of Onrai was in and of itself not so much dark as it was aberrant. The act of having infused herself with the life force of the Kindred was defiance of any and all forms of natural law - but then again, the spawn of the Architects were above such meager limitations, and what thus devoured them in turn inherited most similar quantities. It was thus ironic what Eina and those like her were - created of stuff most unnatural, and not a part of the native order for sure.
"What I had to." This was truly the only response Onrai had to give to the Valkyrie before her, the self-proclaimed Avatar of Ashla. And indeed, the course of action she had taken was inevitable one way or another: either she would have to take the step towards immortality and godhood as part of the hunt for power, or she would alternatively need to acquire it to respond to a threat most apocalyptic in the galaxy, such as the reemergence of the Dark Gods and the Father of Shadows who ruled over them after their cumulative damnation.
"There are things that must happen. I'm sure your acceptance of this will be as minimal as that of the Cardinal of Ashla, who I desperately struggled to help see the truth, but Tython must be claimed by the Empire if the terrible risks are to be undone. The Infernal Gate to the Charnel Worlds must be opened if there is to be any chance of eternal salvation of the galaxy from the Father of Shadows." Her explanation was brief and minimal - after all, she expected naught much more than inevitable resistance from the last Ashlan. To believe that the Light was good and the Dark was bad was so superficial a view of the galaxy.
And yet... perhaps it would be possible to persuade the woman to think otherwise.
The sounds of distant battle echoed throughout the halls of the Temple. Saber clashes, screams of anger and pain, and the eery laughter of Sith mirth served as an excellent barometer for one's bravery. It was a test Aron was failing.
It's why he was here, why he opted for a position farther away, running extra security on a side path between the front halls of the Temple and the archives within. Most of the Sith opted for a straight shot through the Temple, shotgunning their way through the Jedi defenders for the most damage, the most destruction and death. Aron figured a majority of them would bypass this side hall. And they did.
It wasn't...necessarily...that Aron was afraid for himself. His recent battle on Onderon had left him scared, yes, but not of a fight. He was afraid he'd only get someone else killed. His men died...innocents died in Iziz. Not all his fault, and most assuredly unavoidable, but Aron didn't see it that way. He only saw his mistakes. And those mistakes cost lives.
He trusted his Jedi companions to be able to hold the line against the Sith. He had to. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to run, join his brothers and sisters. Yet he steeled himself. He was needed here. He was needed to guard against any flank attack, or lone Sith that came wandering through.
But what if it was a mistake? What if people were being hurt? What if going hurt someone? What if staying killed someone? What was the right thing to do?
The sounds of battle grew in intensity. And yet, Aron stood. And waited.
The city felt like it was a skeleton in comparison to what it once used to contain. The streets that once bustled with locals and travelers that walked with purpose were now desolate in rubble, molten metal, and charred bodies. Rath looked upon the city that stretched with various buildings at different heights as the rumblings of distant explosions could be heard. Even from this far out, Rath could see similar small skirmishes that dotted throughout the area.
Fortunately, somebody had answered the flare that continued to gradually descend upon the earth. Bathing the dark streets with a red light as heavy clouds of smoke blanket over their heads. Rath could visually see a solo individual cautiously baiting the terentatek, to which the Force Sensitivity alerted the fiery beast. Despite being a beast conjured via soul into the form of the monstrous creature before them, it still retained the same behavior as a terentatek. It bellowed as it slammed its fists on the ground. Causing the molten ferrocrete to splatter against the sides of the buildings adjacent to it. The sweltering heat could be felt even from a distance after it had opened its mouth. The rage, the bloodlust, and the predatory focus on the Force Sensitives evident on its features.
With a mental command from the master of its soul, the terentatek dug its fiery claws into the ferrocrete underneath and threw chunks of molten earth upon the crew. It charged after the one named Olivia as the terentatek threw one cluster of molten ferrocrete after another in a fit of rage. Angry that the one it had its eye on had seemingly retreated, but its focus was redirected as Olivia drew its attention.
After Elise had ascended to Rath’s position…
The dark figure could be found with his arms crossed as he observed the monstrous incarnation of the terentatek. He sensed the Mandalorian Ripper approach before she appeared to his level. Rath sensed the will to fight, and her boisterous words matched her bravado with a beskar spear in hand. The dark figure glanced at the spear and then the armored warrior before him under the guise of the mask. Recognition that this was indeed one of the Mandalorians, but he does not recognize her from the Enclave.
”I’ve heard such words before,” He spoke through the modulator as he drew his Storm Breaker from its scabbard at his belt. The crystalized head of a wolf at the pommel shimmered a soft white light as it was brimming with Force energy at Rath’s command. The blade of beskar reflected the distant fires and ash; runes engraved upon the surface as the blade emitted an equally soft blue light from the runes. ”They always disappoint in the end.”
An insult of a warrior’s spirit as he sought to anger her. A bit of a mind’s game to cause many great warriors to meet their end. With a raised hand overhead, Rath summons a whirlwind of kinetic energy around himself. The wind howled in protest as debris from the ruined building were tossed into the storm. Vents torn from its brackets as the wide metal pieces swept the area in front of Rath, and in turn would attempt to slam against Elise from the side with great force in addition to resisting the increasing strength of the storm itself.
It was a bit excessive for Rath’s tastes, but he wanted to see how developed in the Force this one was. To determine whether they had what it took to overcome great obstacles, and he couldn’t afford anyone to be weak if they hoped to overcome this age of darkness someday. Or will the future events drive this would-be hero off the edge? Flashes of images of the armored warrior being overcome with anger and grief appeared at the forefront of his mind. A warning from the Force as to what the future might hold. But whether his predictions came true remained to be seen.
Slowly, Vulpesen stepped around the sith woman, circling her with his saber held low at his side. Her words brought a slight twitch from him, but little else. He remembered how that had battle had ended. With her imprisoned and sent to decades in ice. Vallen was alive. More than that, Vallen was well. He was a captain in the Armis Militia and even now, was fighting on some planet in the Galactic Alliance's wars, doing his father proud. "I however, stand without luck. I came for a fight, and I find a woman who has only proven herself against children."
"Its a shame, really." His free hand rose once more and his daggers removed themselves from the wall, once again lancing out towards Alicia's side. This time however, he didn't use overwhelming force, only sending two of the daggers out and watching her reaction before he sent out another pair to compensate for any deflections or evasions she might attempt. Vallen had been but a boy when he had found himself at odds with the sith. Vulpesen was in his eighties with a body that had changed little since his twenties. Whatever he was, it wasn't a child.
The Shopping District Empress Teta - Cinnagar
Interacting with: Makai Dashiell
"She told you not to make her wait." Casteel's voice was a flat echo in the confined space of the turbolift. His arctic gaze fixed upon Makai, conveying a silent reproach that spoke volumes.
"She told you not to make her wait!" Casteel reiterated, his tone laced with incredulity. The mere notion that Makai would interpret such a directive as license to execute a spontaneous proposal left Casteel incredulous. "And you took that as an invitation to improvise? "
Casteel all but sounded like a disappointed father at the lack of respect and due course that should have been afforded to Myra for a proper proposal. The rush of irritation and scoffing attitude towards Makai made Casteel use it to make the jump and lift his body through the ceiling turbo lift hatch and out, joining Makai on top of the turbo lift.
"You could have easily taken the information provided, left it at that, made your preparations for getting the blessing for your proposal, the rings, and where to ask." Casteel added once he lifted himself through, toned musculature flexing as he situated himself on top of the turbolift.
As he rose to his feet, Casteel's typically immaculate appearance bore the slight disarray of his uncharacteristically mussed platinum locks. It was a jarring departure from his usual pristine presentation.
"Did you intend to elope, then?" Casteel questioned, his voice tinged with exasperation. It seemed Makai's actions were driven more by impulse than careful consideration of the consequences, a notion that grated against Casteel's sense of propriety.
He moved towards the double doors of the exit, requiring them to force the entrance open. More distant rumbles and lights flickered on and off around them again before the emergency lights resumed. Casteel would search to see if there was a panel that would open it from this side, a form of emergency button for such situations. If there was one, this would be easy. If not, then they'll need to pry the doors open instead.
Kalrath boomed with laughter, the ground below them splitting from the raw strength of his voice alone.
"Foolish child," he sneered. "The student of that wretched bloodline... Kai'el must care deeply for you, no?"
The boy had revealed his hand far too quickly. The ancient Sith simply began to walk towards the young Echani. He had a path to the master now, a way to force Kai'el's hand and draw him out. Of all the things present at this temple, this was his most valuable asset. The Twi'lek didn't entertain the child's insults. Instead he simply trudged forward, unconcerned with the lightsaber now present in his hands. This was the next step; thousands of years of hatred and rage finally presented a path to vindication. There was no way in hell that Kalrath wasn't going to take the opportunity presented to him. And the boy's friends?
To the horizon would he see some type of platform, some type of refuge for those seeking escape. Hooking his saber to his belt, along with the Stygian Codex would Kaleb start marching towards the platform.
Jasper sighed, taking in a deep breath and stepping forward. Even with a weaker sensitivity to the force, the knigh could feel emotions swirling around the man that portrayed his intentions. Clouded by frustrations... something was going to get messy. He just had to make sure that the focus remained on him, not the refugees.
"Hey, buddy!" Jasper called out. "I can't let you forward. I've got civilian transports here..."
His eyes narrowed as he prepared for the worst.
"You should move along..."
He wasn't the boy who had been on Tython long ago, the one who could only watch helplessly as Sith tore through civilians as though they were little more than loose paper. He was a god-damn Jedi Knight. Whatever happened next for these refugees, any harm would be over his dead body, and Jasper wasn't just going to keel over without giving whoever this was hell. Hopefully they could be deterred, but not all who had their vision clouded saught a way to see.
The Sentinel of Harmony was ready for him. One way or another.
Ordo
's presence, and then the popkern hitting her in the shoulder and then the deck. Arla ignored him with an effort of will. "I know, i know, they're taking their time." She said. Her companion was a force of nature; once unleashed, he would be a massively chaotic influence on the situation. She couldn't predict what he could do; and she couldn't, then neither could the enemy. "Soon, big guy."
Amelia von Sorenn
Vaux Gred
Marlon Sularen
