Faction (GA/NJO) Ashla Roots

[Rath Nihro]

C R O S S R O A D S

Objective: Assisting in Rebuilding
Equipment: Outfit
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

It was perhaps a bit strange that Rath hadn’t attempted to escape or harm his captors. Precisely because he had deemed that it was futile and a waste of energy to pursue those actions. Not when fate appeared to have other plans in mind for him. So the dark haired man simply had been patient, keeping his nose down, and gradually earning some morsel of trust from his former enemies. Perhaps those before him would have likely attempted to break free at some point during the time of captivity.

Whatever the case might have been, he understood that eventually something had to change. For the galaxy was ever shifting much like the seasons, and unless he wished to fall like his other peers had. Rath must learn to change as well. For better or worse.

"Why didn't you fight back when we came to the temple?"

The Knight broke the silence that had stretched between them. As Rath continuously fueled his muscles from shoulders to the tips of his toes with the ambient force energy. Enabling him to perform feats of strength that would likely require heavy equipment at least to lift, and yet it all steeped further into the question. If he truly was powerful enough to single handedly have slain Knights and even a Master virtually unscathed. Then how come he didn’t resist when the time came?

For a moment, Rath paused as he had placed another piece of debris onto the hovercraft, his hands rested upon the duracrete. He had thought of that question as well during his time in the cage, and the simple answer was that he couldn’t.

”You didn’t go past me like the others had attempted to. But… just before you had arrived the Force felt… off? Silent even, much like the mirror-like surface of a still lake that reflects the stars above.” To many it would seem normal, yet to Rath the Force had often felt like it was pulling him in one direction. For it had shown him half of the galaxy was burning, and how he felt like he stood alone with only the spirits of the fallen to accompany him.

Yet for a moment, Rath had foreseen a change in the path that had been laid out before him. It promised a time of peace, and frankly Rath would rather labor his days amongst the good common folk than having to pick up another saber or a blaster again. As time had gone by however, Rath couldn’t shake off the sense of a storm that was brewing throughout the galaxy. Coiling like a suffocating storm, much like how a python would wrap its heavy body around its victim.

”Besides, it wouldn’t have changed the outcome much whether a dozen or more Jedi were killed by my hands. Most of my kind would be eager to claim lives in their pursuit of glory and power, but I find such a thing to be a huge waste of potential.” At that moment, the mask that Rath had kept up slightly cracked, for he was both frustrated and disappointed. He raised his eyes to meet Corazona’s for a change.

”You had an opportunity to eliminate another threat to the galaxy, so why did you capture me instead?” The Force could predict all it wanted, but in the end it boiled down to the individuals themselves as to how they acted. Was it an act of benevolence, or was there some malicious intent behind her actions after all? Rath was of course beginning to hate that he automatically assumed that everyone had an ulterior motives behind their actions, but it was what kept him alive amongst the Sith-like people.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers |

Valery caught the gleam of metal just a second before the impact.

Her body twisted, boots sliding across moss-slicked stone as she pivoted. With her free hand, she reached out through the Force — a focused, precise tug — and BB-610's tumbling form slowed midair just enough for her to catch him against her side. The momentum nearly staggered her, but she gritted her teeth and held her ground, the little droid tucked safely in the crook of one arm.

"I've got you," she said, breathless but sure. "Stay with me, Bee."

She barely had time to set him down before the Drengir lunged again, a hulking mass of bark and rot and hunger. Valery's saber spun up like a shield, the violet blade flashing in a blur as she surged forward to meet them — not with brute force, but precision. Elegance. A storm in motion. Her feet never stayed in one place for long, each step a pivot, a shift, a deliberate counter to the writhing chaos around her. Where they struck, she was already gone — and where she struck, they screamed.

Blades wove through air and flesh. One swing to sever a grasping vine, another to drive a pointed burst of Light into the heart of a Drengir's corrupted root core. They thrashed and they burned. And all the while, her focus never left Bee's position — and that flicker of strange activity on his chassis.

Mid-spin, her eyes darted toward him. The blue glow of his holoprojector blinked faintly. Not an attack. A connection.

"Bee, are you getting something?" she called between slashes, cutting down another grasping limb. She didn't know who — or what — was reaching out. But if there was help coming… they'd need it fast. Because around them, the Drengir kept rising.

And Valery, surrounded and breath drawn sharp in her chest, was just getting started.

BB-610 Mykel Dawson ​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Rath was lifting heavier than she would've guessed for someone with his form - and they were roughly the same height. Subtle shifts in the Force converged on the darksider, as if it were being pulled inward.

Gradually, Tython was shifting towards a balance.

Some of the larger slabs of duracrete were too unwieldy for Cora to carry on her own. She ran the gloved fingers of her metal hand over the flat surface, searching for a crack, a weak spot, anything that could be exploited.

"Still and silent like the surface of a lake…" she repeated, murmuring thoughtfully. There were a handful of spots on her homeworld that were brought to memory. Peaceful, undisturbed. Not exactly the sort of place a practitioner of the dark side would enjoy.

"How does the Force normally feel to you, Rath?”

Her fingers stopped, pressed against a slight depression in the stone. The composition was a little more porous here, a little thinner.

As Rath turned the question on her, Cora's lips pressed into a thin line. She was searching for her words.

"Combat should be a last resort for a Jedi. If things had gone differently, I cannot say that we wouldn't have come to blows."

The Jedi had been fortunate on Tython that day, and the Force had shifted in their favor. If it hadn't, if Tython had been truly at home immersed in the dark, then she likely wouldn't be having this conversation, let alone still breathing unassisted.

"That, and…"

Cora trailed, thinking back to how he'd spoken of the Force, how he found less glory and more disappointment in the killing of Jedi.

"I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps the Force will provide more clarity in time."

A gentle application of pressure, and the duracrete slab fractured into three separate pieces. She was careful to dislodge them, one by one, and turn her head away from the dust.

"I didn't sense any ill will in you. Nor did those who oversaw your confinement period. A rarity, as far as captive darksiders go."

Rath Nihro

 

[Eugen Aker]

Location: Forest outside the Settlement
Objective: Experimenting with the Drengir (Working the rust off writing an old character, and performing some Factory development)
With: Solo

The forest buzzed with its own chorus, a blending of cries and calls from unseen creatures prowling the ancient woods. To the casual nature enjoyer, the ambiance of the untamed wilderness might have even seemed pleasant to the ear. But in the Force, the very earth wept from abuse, wallowing in a dirge of strife. Long before the ruinous occupation of the Dark Empire and occultists, Tython had been the site of countless battles and wars over the past century alone. The twisted planet bled.

Against this cacophony, Eugen moved like a ghost, his presence little more than a speck in perception as he skipped through the trees above ground. In this embedded state, the world around became shifting molecules and raw reactions laid bare. The great machine of the material universe underpinned by the Cosmic Force.

He moved in stark contrast to his targets, which now stood out like beacons in the Force, loud and unruly. Radiating with the corruption of the Dark Side. Vassals of rot. The Drengir.

He tapped a canister on his utility belt as he neared the first cluster, then guided its particulate contents downward with the invisible hand of the Force - a silent maestro directing a swarm. The Drengir only noticed him when he was nearly on top of them, and by then it was far too late. The haze enveloped them.

They shrieked. Their skin blistered and bubbled. Then, inch by inch, their forms began seize as they collapsed inward, deflating as their vascular systems ruptured and spilled out with dark liquids. Regeneration interrupted as they were attacked on the cellular level.

Monster had become prey as a new apex predator had been introduced to the invasive species. Microscopic biots of his own creation.

Nearby, other Drengir coiled and bristled, but hesitated to react. For the first time, something like contemplation stirred in their primal minds. Fight... or flight. Their fellow spawn hadn't merely fallen. They'd been erased, snuffed out with no surviving material.

All the while, Eugen loomed over them, twin pinpricks of crimson light bearing down like lasers. Still he remained a specter in the Force, even now as they could physically perceive him.

He'd tracked the process. Just under three minutes.

Not bad. But more testing was needed.

From his belt, he drew a long obsidian hilt and snapped it downward. A telescoping pike of gleaming silver extended with an audible crack. Its tip crackled and sparked with energy, the air around it reeking of ozone.

He pointed it toward the next cluster.

Then pounced like a falling meteor.

 

[Jack Wright]

LOCATION: TYTHON FORESTS

(Tags: Valery Noble , BB-610 , OPEN)

There was a perfect timing in the air, once the mass hulking swarm of live, corrupted roots extended their tendrils high, be it decree victory or slam down upon the vaunted Jedi Master and her droid companion.

Accompanied by a whizzing noise in the air, growing louder every second, that almost sounded suspiciously like a-

An azure hurricane burned and sliced through the variet of tentacles that made up the Drengirs' limbs, cutting clen against in a whirling arc that curved downwards right before said light-affiliated duo. The movement was practiced, directed, the lightsaber spun just back upwards to sever more of the atrocious appendages belonging to the monsters.

Returning into the right grip of the Knight who wielded said saber, perched atop a moss-coated branch high above the conundrum of allies and enemies. With that insufferable bearded smirk and playful light hazel, the Jedi called out with mirth to the annoyed beasts.

"Yoo-hoo, far more meat over here!" The Drengir swerved around, snarling at the interloper who'd dare deny them a meal. Regrowing limbs extended faster than record time, making Trandoshans look modest.

And even then, the Knight felt the pounding of their dark influence, hammering into his brain. A discordant symphony desire only to corrupt and consume, yearning for fresh meat when supposed 'allies' left them to rot on the Jedi ancestral home world: Feeling only wrath.

Desire.

Hunger.

Despite the pounding headache, Jack grinned wide while his left hand gripped sturdily on the loosened vine, throwing himself downwards and swinging over the fray, almost wishing a Wookiee was here to see it. Appendages lashed upwards, yet the Knight swerved and danced mid-swing, releasing the last second to duck and roll beneath another lunging, nature-corrupted tentacle.

Landing twenty feet away from Valery's left, azure lightsaber ignited and held within his right grip, swung around for a Shien fighting style. The illumination showcased his set mouth and facial, taking a moment to be actually serious.

A few of the Drengir, with another promising meal, focused their attention on the male Jedi, which gave the Grandmaster and her companion a better fighting chance with the group's diverted focus.