Skirmish [GA/SO] Determination and Distraction

[Ariana du Couteau]

Ariana du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Objective One: Misty Mountains
Outfit

Ariana looked around and noticed the strong winds take much of the strange smoke but as she moved the winds slowed and the smoke reformed. Production of the smoke had continued which meant the source was nearby, Ariana for her own part though felt off as her own Force senses seemingly only extended to her sightline. And I can’t see much of anything.

Her Force bubble at least kept the smoke away the only issue was the difficulty to maintain it had grown substantially. The smoke clearly had something to do with it but she could not sense much past the oddity of the smoke itself. And it seems to move with me. Ariana grimaced as she fought to keep her mind focus and with an idea she jumped closer to the mountain’s face. The small bits of sightline as the wind had pushed the smoke to give her some sense of direction helped her guide up the ridge.

With a strong jump upwards, she wondered if the stronger winds further up the mountain ridge could sort out this smoke. What she had not planned on was the sudden compression of air and violent pressure erupted nearby and forced her to flounder for her footing. Ariana’s Force bubble shattered as she lost focus and could not recover the bubble but she had recovered her footing and managed to grab onto the lip of a platform railing.

The stronger winds meant that as long as she kept herself ahead the smoke had little chance to completely engulf her once again. The explosion certainly helped clear a large area of the smoke at a much faster rate for her benefit. Not that she would ever wish to have explosions used near her vicinity as ‘help’. Her eyes scanned the open battlefield, the Sith had pushed their advantage certainly and Ariana wondered where she should head towards. The smoke had been quite troublesome, worst yet she found her ability to control the Force compromised.

Her knees shook as she walked to gather herself and her breathing technique could only help so much to steady her hands. Even her own wide smile had wavered slightly as she looked wearily at the continued production of smoke and dashed ahead. Will that smoke ever run out? Ariana kept herself from any engagement of the other Sith, she felt rather unreliable until whatever the smoke had done properly worn off. I can’t help anyone if they need to look after me.
​

|| Khal'vyssa ||​

 

[Jonyna Si]

​

TAG: Darth Prazutis

The first wave fell, but it fell on deafness. Jonyna raised her sword, the Black Blade, and it swallowed the wave whole, as feet dug deeper into the ground, baring the brunt of it. She wasn't going to stand for idle posturing. Destruction was met with Mercy. Violence met with Innocence. Lightning and Annihilation, became Judgement and Justice.

The the second hit, and had it hit a younger tigress, it wouldn't dissuaded her. But the mind of the Sentinel was a Fortress. A vault that rebelled the wave not with skill, but utter resolve. She heard the force scream, and all she heard was a friend in pain. A friend older than any other. Her first friend. The one who had never left her side, and answered her every plea. Her mind answered back with a single phrase.

Brave Heart.

Then the final wave. Flames crashed, earth cracked, and the heavens screamed.

But in the center, a single tigress stood firm. Flame met flame, as Jonyna shifted her eruption of pyre upward. Jonyna could see it, the watcher from above. Something older than old, something darker than dark.

And what did the tigress do to it?

She spat at it.

She spat at it's face with a flick of flame, then as it disappeared, as a pillar of eternity crashed down upon her. Jonyna could only do what she had trained to do. Push back. Her own flame erupted once more, and she pushed and pushed. Flame burned flame. But as the darkened fire overwhelmed her, she held her ground. For a moment, it looked as if she was gone. Incinerated under the weight of the Dark Side. But as the smoke cleared, as the heavens calmed, and silence fell...

She was still there. Standing. Her coat was in pieces, her robes burnt, but the tigress stood, snarling. Across her right arm, a scar of black flame still cindering. But the dark lord could see, with her fur gone, he was not the first. Not by far. Scars upon scars, hidden by fur.

Her Black Blade crackled with energy once more, and with a twirl, she unleashed it. Not in the form of the Lightning that she had brought forth before, but in the form of a crack that shook the mountain. The sound of a volcano, loud enough to shake the clouds above, and rattle the souls of anyone nearby.

Not the Roar of Cathar, but the Roar of the Force.

Jonyna Si feared no one. Not power, not that which power fears.

She looked death in the face, and accepted it. She knew her fate, she knew her legacy. Not the murals on the trees, but the people who saw them. The jedi who were inspired by her legend. The legend of her previous life.

She knew, that the day she died, all that would lead to is another generation inspired.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

Connection of fish to plasteel didn't bother him much. He could feel the force of it rendering through to the skin and muscle beyond, which was the entire point. Enough strikes, and critical ones, to the same area could take someone down for the count. His goal wasn't to kill this man, but to render him incapable of continuing their battle. Beating him to a pulp was just one way of accomplishing that. Plus, honestly, it felt good to hit someone like that. Far better than to use a weapon on them. Released a lot of tension.

The counter came in the form of a strike aimed at exposed elbow. The blade was coming down towards it from above and would sever the arm cleanly if allowed to strike. Instead, Caelan quickly reversed the grip of his saber again, the blade coming around to land on his own pauldron but catching the cutting blade and stopping it. The Force of it began to dig into the songsteel pauldron with his own lightsaber, but at least he didn't lose a second arm.

Instead of attempting to strike back at the man, or leveraging his strength against him, he opted for something simpler. His left hand displayed its palm towards Apophion already, and a buildup of the Force accompanied it before unleashing it powerful blast of it meant to knock the man back and away from him. But even should that not be enough, Caelan stepped backwards in effort to disengage their sabers from one another and reset the battle back to a neutral point.

"Why is it that you seek to kill me?" he asked of the man, seeking understanding. "To my knowledge we have never met. I understand this is a battlefield, but I sense something more behind your intent than that."

---

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace)

TAGS: Darth Apophion ​

 

[Darth Apophion]

The Force blast pushed him back, his feet sliding across the snow and stone, cloak snapping behind him as the wave passed. He brought both his arms to shield his face from debris. The Sith slid to a stop a few steps away from his opponent, who disengaged, giving a moment of reprieve between the two warriors.

The Jedi asked why he sought to kill him.

It was a fair question. It was a hollow question.

For a time, Apophion said nothing. The wind howled between the ruins of the temple and craggy passes while the peaks of the ice-capped mountains watched.

"No… we have not met."

He finally spoke.

"My clan, my family were not part of your war. A conflict that spans the whole of time itself. The wound that never closes. We kept to the old ways. Isolated. Forgotten. And still your kind came, cloaked in duty, blades of light in hand, speaking of balance while destroying everything they touched..."

The words hung in the air like a wound.

"Jedi. They called themselves the Ashlan. A crusade to cleanse the stars. Begeren. That was my world... I remember the color of their sabers in the smoke. I remember my sister's voice and how quiet it became beneath the rubble. My brother's hands, scorched and still clutching a broken blade. The sands of Begeren have taken them now. I have seen what balance and justice look like in Jedi hands. Fire, ash, and death."

The mountain winds wailed like grieving choirs between the stones. The Sith's gaze moved to the horizon for a moment.

"I sense that you like me, you are not whole, Warden of Faded Truths. You bear light and balance as your banner. And I, the Sentinel of Ashen Faith, shall bear the ashes of broken lineages with no one left to remember them."

Apophion stepped forward again, blade poised in quiet benediction, ready to strike. A sharp pivot of the rear foot. A sudden contraction of the core. His saber swept upward in a brutal, shallow arc, not telegraphed, aimed directly for the inside of Caelan's right wrist, the gap in the armor.

​

Caelan Valoren

 

[Darth Prazutis]

The Force stirred with reverence. Not submission. Not fear. But reverence. Darth Prazutis watched, he witnessed her. The Black Blade roared, and the mountain shook with its unfettered might. The Force screamed her defiance into the heavens, and it did not go unanswered. She had stood through the apocalypse. Through the black flame. Through the crushing of fate itself, she stood. Smoke coiled around her like a crown of cinders. The wound across her arm still glowed, not with defeat, but with proof. He saw it, the agony endured. The scars. Ancient. Earned. The toil of war, the cost of struggle against powers greater than oneself, fighting for cause. She had faced warlords. Inquisitors. Monsters. And now, she faced him. She still stood. The crucible had not broken her. It had revealed her. The Dark Lord stepped forward. One step, and the ground beneath him fractured, a perfect ring splintered outward from his titanic heel, a silent quake pulsing through the earth like some buried god's heartbeat. There was no wind. No scream. Only gravity, folding space inward around the Mortarch as if the air itself finally remembered how to kneel.

"You endure." The words rumbled like tectonic plates beneath her feet. A quiet thunder. Not shouted, not forced. Declared. It was as if a truth far too heavy to be denied, was spoken to the open air. "You resist." A pause. "Good." He raised a hand. For just a moment, the Force held its breath. Then the answer came. A second crown formed above the battlefield. Not of storm, but of silence. A perfect ring of obsidian light spun into being, etched with runes that shimmered like the last stars dying in the dark. Reality cracked, not from fire, not from sound, but from will. Then he roared. But not with volume. Not with voice. It was the inverse of her Roar. The counter-song. The Null Howl. The scream of legends slain, peoples butchered, of torches snuffed, of truths buried, the legacy of untold peoples butchered by his hand, by his will worlds snuffed out. A soundless, inverted scream that ripped through the marrow of the Force. The Black Blade came. A strike forged in legacy, in pain, in righteous fury. It was as if it cut reality in twain, aimed to sever the very concept of tyranny. A blade blessed by harmony and fury alike.

The Dark Lord of the Sith didn't move. He embraced it. The blades assault struck the warplate across his right shoulder, Qâzjiin'vraal, armor wrought from Zîrkaris and the screaming abyss, and the impact cracked it. Force Light exploded on contact. His mantle hissed. The blackened steel groaned. A flash of burning white lanced through the point of contact as the Black Blade bit into the alchemized plate. Shadows bled out. And he bled with them. Not mere flesh. Shadow. Searing, writhing shadow poured from the wound like black tar, dark blood ignited by blinding fire. The Force itself recoiled. But he did not stop. "You roar." Prazutis said, emerging from the swirling void, his right pauldron now marked with a glowing scar of light, his gauntlet charred, fingers flexing. "Then let the Force remember silence." He clapped his hands together. Both hands, titanic, gauntleted, engraved in masterful, forgotten Sih scripture older than memory, brought together his warblade in the middle. Not in mockery. Not in dismissal. But in ritual. The sound echoed with metaphysical weight. A ripple of sound so deep it could only be described as its inverse surged across the battlefield. The sky buckled. Storm clouds flattened into bands of dark gravity. The air inverted.

The Roar of Cathar met the Quietus of the Grave. A wave of unbeing tore outward from his position. A ring of absolute silence rooted from unparallelled mastery over the fell powers. It did not burn. It did not tear. It erased. No fire. No scream. No color. Just nothing, darkness incarnate. The Force howled through the gaps left in the world, as the wall of void came for her, not to kill her, but to silence her. To challenge her. Because this was no longer light versus dark. This was memory versus oblivion. Let her answer it. The Mortarch had come to break her, to break them all.

Jonyna Si​

 

[Caelan Valoren]

The man spoke as if Caelan had been part of what had happened. He only stood there, stoic, listening to what was said, letting the words wash over him that he might fully understand them.

"You speak as though the war that came to your world involved me."

He could understand the mans pain. The loss of family at the hands of practitioners of the Force was something that he was keenly familiar with, having experienced it himself. That didn't excuse the direction the man had taken with his life, however. Lashing out at others who had nothing to do with what happened to his family would do nothing but create more frustration within him at the fact that the pain wasn't going away with each person he struck down.

"The Ashlan were not Jedi despite calling themselves such. I could call myself a Sith, but it doesn't make me one. Adherence to the principles of an order matters, and they did not adhere to them. There are many within my own order who do not. I strongly disagree with the militant nature of the Jedi I serve with. Balance cannot be achieved by wiping out the other side of the equation. That only creates imbalance, and too many Jedi don't understand that."

It was doubtful that his words would mean anything, but he was still compelled to say them. The truth had to be spoken. Perhaps he was blind to the reality that not all Jedi ascribed to the beliefs of the Ashlan. Or perhaps he was just uninformed. Not speaking up would be potentially doing the man a disservice.

Of course he came in to attack again. Caelan brought his saber with two hands to block while stepping into the attack. He was not losing another limb to one of these people. No way he was becoming a living machine like some people had in the past. He'd gotten a lot better since he'd lost the last one, a lot stronger, a lot faster, and more precise with his blade. Not to mention his confidence in himself had grown immensely. He knew that he could handle this fight.

And as their blades locked up, he spoke rather than countering.

"I am sorry for your loss, but killing people who were not involved and have no connection to the Ashlan is not going to bring you anything but more suffering in the end. You must ask yourself if that is what those who you lost want. I know that pain. Practitioners of the dark side killed my mother and father and possibly my twin sister. Seeking revenge will leave you hollow."

---

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace)

TAGS: Darth Apophion ​

 

[Khal'vyssa]

Location: Zeffo
Objective: Misty Mountains
Mission Objective: Eliminate Southern Ridge Outpost Defenses
Tag: Ariana du Couteau

The smoke had mostly cleared. However, beneath her mask, Khal’vyssa pursed her lips together in frustration. The Jedi had seemingly relocated to an area outside of where the smoke had covered, foiling her initial plan.

Nevertheless, Khal’vyssa quickly scanned the area, and fortunately, it did not take long for her to pick the Jedi out. The Shikkari caught sight of her just as she crested the nearby ridge before taking off in a run, ostensibly in an effort to retreat.

The Shikkari knew immediately that she could not afford to allow the Jedi out of her sight for long.

Dropping her concealment, Khal’vyssa shot a grappling line at the ridge’s ledge. The attractor node tip immediately adhered itself to the rock, at which point the Shikkari retracted the line, immediately lifting her form above the ground in pseudo-flight and drawing her swiftly to the ridge.

Grunting, Khal’vyssa tucked into a graceful roll as she landed, before rising to sprint after the Jedi. Simultaneously, she drew three of her throwing blades between the fingers of her left hand and launched them towards the Jedi’s back from 14 meters away in a singular motion. Driven by their integrated microrepulsors, the blades carried a straight trajectory, accelerating to blinding speed as they tore through the air en route to their target.

Although Khal’vyssa had foregone treating the blades with poison, she hoped that a successful strike would see her quarry slowed and grievously wounded.

If all went according to plan, the Jedi would soon be wholly at her mercy.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Moonlight Shadow
  
  • Arms
    
    • Lacera - Sith Lanvarok - L Gauntlet
      
      • Ammunition
        
        • 30 Disc Magazine (4)
          
          • Neuranium Disc - Void Stone Treatment
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R Gauntlet
    • FAE/EMW-01 Plasma Chakram Projector - L Glove
      
      • Ammunition
        
        • FAE/AM-01-S2 Energy Weapon Cartridge (4)
          
          • Ethaerium Gas and CryoBan Coolant
    • Slicing Glove - R Glove
• Moonlight Kiss Throwing Blades (6)
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (3)
• FAE/MDE-01-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Concussion Explosive (1)

 

[Tel Ahren]

Lirka Ka

​

With his heart skipping a beat, a young man sunk back into the shadows as a small patrol of Sith troops passed him by.

He waited a moment—two—before stepping back out, looking beyond the mouth of the small cave he'd found. A short ways ahead was the ruins of what must have been a small village at one point, now nothing more than rubble and the occasional gleam of rust-resistant metal. The cave itself had a few twisted and bent structures inside that made it seem like it must have been in connection with the village at some point; leading to some power generator turbine, or the like, in centuries past. Now, though, the only remnants that people once lived here were trash, the occasional too-straight line in the rocks, a ruined facility deeper in the mountains, and older yet, the great tombs that were present on the planet.

One of which was currently the target of the fracas that had swept the mountain passes by storm.

"Stupid. Why did I come here? Tel, Tel, you've really screwed it up this time..."

He'd been muttering much the same to himself since the sounds of fighting started. Sure, he'd helped to piece things together a bit after landing, and volunteered to go scout ahead; he was fast, he could be quiet, and he'd keep his nose just far enough out of trouble that he could run back and grab somebody who actually knew what they were doing if anything was to happen. And it gave him the chance to finally stretch his legs a bit and explore, wandering away from the tomb of Miktrull and backtracking towards what the books he'd read suggested were other points of interest on the planet. He'd especially hoped that things would stay calm and quiet, and he could go look through the tomb of Eilram...

Instead, he was left glad that he'd at least brought his training saber along.

"What I wouldn't give for a real—oh, Sithspit!"

Cursing under his breath, Tel ducked behind an outcropping, barely managing to avoid kicking a chunk of duracrete down a small cleft as he did so. Something was walking through what must have been the old village square, where the few ruins that were still recognizable as once having been buildings still stood. Whatever it was was covered in armour, which was good, because not a single thing about it felt right even beyond the ill sensations that the waves of landing Sith brought to the atmosphere.

Unfortunately, it had turned to look directly at him, and he could feel that its stare was still right where he had been.

"..."

Think fast, Tel.

"Hey, think you could point me back at where the Jedi are? I think I got turned around here. Could really use a map, you know?" he called out to the thing in the village, his tone light and relaxed despite the growing sinking feeling deep in his stomach. No point acting like a Sith, when he was so obviously not one to begin with, and just turning and running without a moment to clear his thoughts wouldn't do any good at all. He'd have to hope that the lighthearted chat might throw off whatever it was he'd seen long enough to give him a chance to make some real headway.

 

[QK-2510]

Location: Zeffo
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Objective: Misty Mountains
Mission Objective: Flank and Destroy Alliance Defenders
Tag: Rath Nihro

Hours upon hours of rigorous hypno-simulations and live exercises had prepared QK-2510 for the demands of combat against hostile Force-sensitives. Thus, the jet trooper was not wholly caught off guard by the manipulation of her hardware. And yet, beneath the unreadable crimson mask of her helmet, her features were rigid with frustration. For a moment it was all she could do to maintain her orientation as her body spun around mid-air in sync with the volatile flaring of her jetpack. Fortunately, accustomed to fighting in three-dimensional space, it did not take long for her instincts to activate. A mental command saw her jetpack’s ion engines shut down, replaced immediately by the gravitational drives to keep her airborne.

With the jetpack now back under her control, QK-2510 flipped herself around until her body was roughly perpendicular to the ground, trained proprioception swiftly bringing her back into alignment in the process.

And in doing so, she missed only a few seconds.

With the Jedi once more in her sights, QK-2510 circled around them while flying roughly 35 meters overhead, her jetpack’s gravitational drives carrying her form gracefully through the air in the process. Simultaneously, a missile soared free from one of the two armament hardpoints on her jetpack. The projectile launched upward, then whipped around to descend towards the Jedi in a vertical attack. Larger than the wrist rocket-sized missiles she had utilized earlier, the jet trooper had fired an anti-vehicle Iadrium warhead at the Jedi, in the hopes of overwhelming his defenses through sheer brute force.

Under normal conditions, such a weapon was reserved solely for large infantry formations, vehicles, tanks, and fighters. However, a Jedi was one of the few instances where an exception could be made.

And in this case, QK-2510 sensed that she might need all of the exceptions playing in her favor.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Taral-type Sith Trooper Armor Mk. II - Pattern Besh
  
  • Gauntlets
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R
  • Utility Hardpoint
    
    • FAE/P-03 “Adramelech” Winged Jetpack
      
      • Armament Hardpoint (2)
        
        • Empty
        • FAE/WH-04-S3 Universal Missile - Iadrium Warhead
• Kainate Combat Rifle Model Sixty-Two
  
  • Attachments and Modifications
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • FAE/S-06 Reactive Targeting Matrix - Updated Version
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S3 Energy Weapon Cartridge (10)
    • Portable Projectile Launcher (2)
      
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Iadrium Warhead (10)
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Iadrium Warhead (16)
    • Portable Projectile Launcher (2)
      
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Concussion Warhead (16)
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Concussion Warhead (16)
• PV-16 “Sunfury” Pulse Pistol
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
  • Ammunition
    
    • Fusion Cell (4)
• FAE/MDE-01-S2 Semiautonomous Seeker Concussion Explosive (4)

 

[Rath Nihro]

A W A K E N I N G

Objective: The Misty Mountains
Equipment: Shroudsaber, Shroudshoto, Outfit
Tag: QK-2510

Even if it was only a moment that Rath had bought, it was a moment that he welcomed as a breather, not that it would last for long. Hopefully the Jedi wouldn’t get onto Rath’s case if he went overboard, right? Not that he would hear from them at the moment as he could overhear commands being issued at the checkpoints. Delta was more or less secured, but apparently at Charlie there was someone tearing apart their defenses with a lightsaber and lightning usage as well. To which he briefly raised up his hand as the aerial warrior recovered, where he cupped it over his ear to block the howling wind so that he could hear it clearly.

”We need a Jedi at Charlie ASAP! They’re ripping right through us!” Of course, these were soldiers that could effectively handle what they’re given provided they had the resources and information to boot. Perhaps he should simply let them be and allow the other jedi in closer proximity to that vicinity handle it. Yet he could smell that most of them were preoccupied with more powerful adversaries throughout the battlefield. As it was detected through a mixture of floral and decay that was practically sickly sweet.

Rath had to resist a huff from escaping from him as there was only mild disappointment on his expression. It was more annoying that the Charlie defense point was roughly a hundred feet and the Force knows how many meters below himself. Once the flames were shut off, Rath had stopped the spell from continuing on longer than necessary. Instead he allowed himself to center as the spirits that resided within his being stirred into action.

Rath knew not what all 2510 had in store for him, but one thing he knew for certain was that she could effectively circle above his head. Raining hellfire and all sorts of armaments to rain down on his head. It’d become a battle between how long he could withstand her ever increasing attacks. Unlike before, he no longer wore his armor, and the main reason he was released from the cell was simply a test as to whether the Jedi could use him on the battlefield. For he might have been a lot of things, but more than anything else he was a soldier of war.

He sensed her frustration grow as it bubbled underneath that armor, and as through the Force he used it to fuel the next power. A chill ran down the mountains as Rath raised his hand, deciding that he had already given her more chances than he usually did, his eyes locked onto both the incoming agile missile and onto the jetpack. The dark side within his veins burned with an adrenaline rush that he was familiar with as he telekinetically seized the two objects, and the dark haired man proceeded to rip both the missile and the jetpack into two pieces with a powerful pull in two separate directions.

Followed by the sounds of explosions that rippled above his head from the torn missile as the Iadrium pre detonated within the warhead. Just in case, he proceeded to retreat to a more advantageous position where there were more boulders, or basically undisturbed sections of the mountain without critically damaging the integrity. If it appeared that the warrior was going to plummet to the ground without some form of assistance by technology or otherwise. Rath could feel some of the spirits that pulled his mind to take action, and with a slight shake of his head. He would leisurely raise his hand as if accepting a token as the dark haired man would slow the aerial warrior’s descent.

”So which one are you, the one who goes through the battlefield guns blazing for glory, or the one who keeps a low profile and survive?” He would ask; for the question would answer itself as to what Rath meant. He had a feeling that he would probably have to answer to the Jedi for the aggressive use of telekinesis, but even then it was relatively tame compared to how he used to be.

 

[Jonyna Si]

​

TAG: Darth Prazutis

The black.

It was nothing new to the Sentinel of Harmony. Darkness, attempting to quell the light. Pushing as hard as it could to silence the storm. She remembered a time when she was all alone. Left a candle in the black of night, burning not out of a heroic ideal, but out of spite. Spite for the Empire that surrounded her. For the Sith's control of the galaxy. Burning because it was all you could do to spite them.

All you could do was survive.

And yet, this time, she burned much brighter. She fought much harder. What was left of her coat billowed as she burst with flame once more, pushing herself away after her last strike. She knew better than to keep herself in striking range of the titan. Two feet taller than her, and all that meant was a much larger striking distance.

But she didn't just shoot backwards, but upwards. A diagonal retreat, where once more she dug into the remnants of her coat with her tail, firing a stream of Cryo as she retreated. She couldn't see him, but she could feel him. While the black had silenced her, it hadn't pushed the air around them away, and she could extend her senses through that. She aimed for his legs, but she knew better than to trust that she could halt him. No, this was just to distract.

This wasn't a normal fight, but he was still mortal, despite what he might think. He was fallible.

But she couldn't bet her life on hunches. He had to have a way to see in the dark like this. He wouldn't risk blinding himself, so she suddenly shifted left.

All the while, she spoke. Not with her mouth, but with her mind. With the Force itself.

She asked it for help. She comforted it with simple words. It was in pain, not able to defend itself.

It was another creature, needing to be protected. But today, she needed it's help.

What would come next would remain up to it.

 

[Darth Apophion]

The blades met like the toll of iron bells.

White clashed against vermillion heat against heat, purpose against pain. The hiss of plasma echoed across the broken terraces of Zeffo's mountain heights, swallowed by the cold wind that screamed between the shattered stones of a long-dead tomb. Their sabers sparked in the space between breaths, and in that fleeting stillness, Apophion saw the tremor of something familiar in Caelan's eyes.

"You speak of restraint as if restraint unburns cities. As if sparing this one flame will unmake the pyre."

Apophion withdrew a step, the glow of his saber flickering against the snow and stone.

"You call the Ashlan impostors. You say they bore false titles. Yet they wore the colors. They wielded the sabers. They spoke the same prayers. Proclaiming they are not true Jedi is a fallacy if I ever heard one. If a lie is repeated enough, how long until it becomes a creed? Your Jedi Council, the Galactic Alliance made no real effort to stop them."

There was no rage in his tone.

"You make this duel your confession of innocence, as though I were its altar. This isn't about you. I offer you this: cast down your weapon, let the blade sleep, and you may walk away from this place unharmed. You have my word."

Apophion stood still, utterly still as if the mountain wind had turned him to stone. The hum of his saber pulsed softly in the air, a quiet, breathing wound between them. The vermillion blade lowered into a passive position, as if waiting for the Jedi to leave.

​

Caelan Valoren

 

[Lirka Ka]

This whole mess was very confusing. At its core, Lirka had gleamed from the Butcher King that this was to be some sort of ambush? Because there was some Jedi trainee that had been captured? Which on its own was a concept so utterly alien to the way the Once-Sephi lived her life that it might as well have been comedic. Though admittedly, Lirka hadn’t been listening all that much. All she knew was there was going to be violence, and Lirka enjoyed violence. Quite a lot.

Perhaps that explained why she was so painfully lost.

She had higher expectations for Zeffo, more people, more random prospectors, or civilians, or something weak that she could torment for her own cruel amusement. But she had found no such thing. Only ruins, and the vestiges of what once was. Relics of worthless history that Lirka, frankly, cared about less than bantha poodoo. And the worst thing of all...there weren't even any Jedi here!

Trudging through the dilapidated city center, Lirka kicked out at a stone in frustration - sending the thing hurling into one of the buildings at breakneck speed. A mechanical rumble of frustration coming from the metal monster's blank-faced helmet. She really was just having a rather poor couple of cycles, Primordial Darkness must have decided it was time to test her resolve again.

Yet, a distant noise. Lirka's head snapped to look where Tel Ahren had been. The claw-like lenses of her helm humming out with green light as she looked for signs of life. Perhaps this place was less abandoned than she thought. Perhaps she'd actually have some fun on this wretched world. Her head cocked some in curiosity as the boy called out to her. Well. An odd change of events for sure.

She met his casualness with her own, letting the distortion modulators in her helmet go quiet and speaking only in that thick Sephi accent that she still hadn't lost. Slowly, did she begin to saunter over to where he was, arms spread wide in exaggerated greeting: weapons hidden away somewhere in her power-suit.

"You know, I was just asking myself the same question! I'm looking for the Jedi too. They really made this place into a maze, didn't they?"

Sometimes, in this cruel cruel Galaxy, you had to make your own fun. And lying sometimes was just as good as killing.

 

[QK-2510]

Location: Zeffo
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Objective: Misty Mountains
Mission Objective: Flank and Destroy Alliance Defenders
Tag: Rath Nihro

With rockets came fire.

A quarter-second after launching the anti-vehicle missile from her jetpack, QK-2510 snapped her rifle’s crosshairs onto the Force-sensitive warrior below and laid on the trigger. A salvo of blood red particle bolts tore out from the weapon in blistering fashion—four shots discharged within the span of a single second. Delivered from 35 meters away, each of the four bolts were aimed to strike her target roughly center mass, in an effort to further bash down his defenses.

She hoped that the Force-sensitive warrior would have to commit yet more energy and focus to reinforcing barriers, preventing him from manipulating her equipment inturn. And given the immediate timing of her follow-up particle fire, her opponent might have to choose between defending himself from the unrelenting aerial barrage or telekinetically ripping apart her systems.

In either case, QK-2510 had no intention of leaving exploitable gaps in her attack!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Taral-type Sith Trooper Armor Mk. II - Pattern Besh
  
  • Gauntlets
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R
  • Utility Hardpoint
    
    • FAE/P-03 “Adramelech” Winged Jetpack
      
      • Armament Hardpoint (2)
        
        • Empty
        • FAE/WH-04-S3 Universal Missile - Iadrium Warhead
• Kainate Combat Rifle Model Sixty-Two
  
  • Attachments and Modifications
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • FAE/S-06 Reactive Targeting Matrix - Updated Version
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S3 Energy Weapon Cartridge (10)
    • Portable Projectile Launcher (2)
      
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Iadrium Warhead (10)
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Iadrium Warhead (16)
    • Portable Projectile Launcher (2)
      
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Concussion Warhead (16)
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Concussion Warhead (16)
• PV-16 “Sunfury” Pulse Pistol
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
  • Ammunition
    
    • Fusion Cell (4)
• FAE/MDE-01-S2 Semiautonomous Seeker Concussion Explosive (4)

 

[Umbra-3]

Determination and Distraction
Location: Zeffo.
Objective: Eliminate Priority Targets
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: Anthony Gray Sun
Tags: ???

"The void does not care for skill. It does not care for speed. It does not care for pride. The void only asks one question—will you survive? If you hesitate, if you falter, if you make even a single mistake… the void will answer for you."​

It moved.

The Jedi didn't retreat. Didn't run.
He dived. No—sprung.

UMBRA-3's optical interface caught the sudden flicker of motion, but it was the change in pressure—the way the air twisted and the clouds screamed—that told him everything. The X-wing shifted in a way that no ship was built to move. Not naturally. Not sanely.

It twisted beneath him, slicing downward in a gravity-defying tumble, vanishing behind a conjured veil of atmospheric moisture—a Force-wrought wall of water that blurred visual and thermal targeting.

Clever.

But not enough.

The Sion-class stalled mid-flight, its inertial thrusters blaring, rotating the ship's entire mass with surgical brutality as the Ghost Link fed UMBRA-3's every variable in real time. He didn't react like a pilot. He responded like a machine—instantly, coldly, violently.

His opponent had gone inverted—beneath him—attempting to ride his shadow.

You seek to hunt the hunter.

As the ion blasts began to sing, UMBRA-3 didn't flee.

He let the first volley slam into his shields, igniting the polarized Solar Ray barrier with a flash of electric blue fire. Warning alerts screamed through the hull, but he silenced them with a thought. His body absorbed the G-forces as he dove with the same brutal elegance, following the Jedi's pitch in perfect sync.

But unlike Anthony—UMBRA-3 did not feel pain.

The reactive targeting matrix kicked in. Turrets rotated.
A second later, UMBRA-3 engaged full-throttle descent—his Sion lurching forward with a violent burst of forward acceleration, flipping his angle, letting the ion blasts lick across his dorsal shielding—but never find hull.

He flared his repulsors. Slammed the air like a hammer.

The Sion dropped like a meteor.

And then twisted sideways mid-fall.

Ambush behavior: countered.
Position: inverted.
Status: dominant.

In the blink of a breath, UMBRA-3 was above and behind once more. His ship's orientation shifted perpendicular to the Jedi's escape vector, forming a T-formation attack angle.

Then came the response fire.

• Two heavy beam cannons lit the sky, pulsing in staggered volleys.
• The dorsal turret activated on its own AI directive, catching a trailing vector.
• Three universal missiles launched—one spiraled to track from above, two dove to bracket from below.

But that wasn't the real strike.

UMBRA-3 activated the Coaxium Injector.

For a heartbeat, his engines died.

Then—ignition.

The sky detonated behind him in a blaze of blue fire. The Sion-class shot forward with a hypersonic roar, trailing a contrail of chemical flame as its weapons powered down—a battering ram of speed and mass, no maneuverability, no fire—just momentum.

He wasn't trying to shoot the Jedi now.
He was trying to crush him.
To ram him from the sky.
To erase him.

UMBRA-3 wasn't in a duel.

He was executing a sentence.

 

[Rath Nihro]

A W A K E N I N G

Objective: The Misty Mountains
Equipment: Shroudsaber, Shroudshoto, Outfit
Tag: QK-2510

She was quick to press the advantage as she circled above his head. No sooner had the missile been launched from the port did the trooper begin to rain hellfire upon him. Just how much of a restraint must he hold himself to appease these Jedi? It felt constricting, limited even as to what Rath knew that the Force was capable of. Even as the familiar chill ran through his body, Rath could only view the Force equally as a source of power as it was part of his arsenal.

Yet the Force was both within the Light and the Dark side; and Rath had only dabbled a small amount into the Light spectrum. Perhaps it was simply due to him being unable to feel the rage and passionate fire from the Dark, just as he could never feel the inner peace that the Force was supposed to offer within the Light. Instead one tended to make him want to vomit, while the other gave him a headache from the different scents mingling together, not unlike walking inside a candle shop and having his nostrils assaulted by the scents.

Old habits were difficult to break as Rath knew that power was within his fingertips, or more accurately his body was emitting it. He had two choices to be made, one to either bolster his defenses, or the other option was to continue with his planned action and risk being shot at. Potentially suffering from critical injuries.

The sharp duets of citrine softened around the corners as Rath silently forgone with dismantling the jetpack in favor of the ornate lightsaber that flew from his belt to his expected hand. Rath still channeled the dark side of the Force to rip the missile asunder, painting the world in a blast of heat as the shockwaves shook the mountain violently for a moment.

With a click of a button, a midnight blade was produced with sparks of white that harmlessly trickled down to the stone before him. By the will of the Force, he nimbly moved to his left along the mountains as he used the terrain as his natural defense against the blaster fire. Where Rath proceeded to evade with pivots during the sprint as he deflected what he couldn’t evade with the lightsaber. The deflection wasn’t directed at anything in particular so long as it was away from his person. For he created a sense of false security as if telekinesis was all he was good for. Despite the danger where even a single strike on his person could potentially be fatal, not unlike handling lightsaber combat as a whole. In that moment as the Force flowed through him that bolstered his agility, Rath felt unburdened by the numbing guilt for surviving as long as he had. As if the weight of the galaxy had been lifted from his shoulders.

 

[QK-2510]

Location: Zeffo
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic”
Objective: Misty Mountains
Mission Objective: Flank and Destroy Alliance Defenders
Tag: Rath Nihro

QK-2510 snarled as the missile was torn asunder before her eyes. A fireball erupted, its thunderous shockwave tearing through the air. And yet, the jet trooper held her gaze steady, teeth clenched. Her helmet’s systems shielded both her eyes and ears from the sensory effects of the blast, keeping her senses intact in spite of the searing haze.

As her quarry vanished into the terrain, QK-2510 surged upward. Her jetpack's ion engines flared to life, propelling her into a lateral flight path so as to present a more elusive target in the event that her target possessed a ranged weapon.

At that point, a positive tone pinged in her ears, confirming a target lock. QK-2510 narrowed her eyes and fired four Iadrium missiles from the projectile launcher affixed to her rifle. Launched from 35 meters away, the quartet of wrist rocket-sized projectiles raced after the warrior like unchained hounds, their semi-sentient guidance systems tracking him through cover and concealment in the process.

The warrior had proven extremely persistent thus far, but with the skies in her favor, the QK-2510 sought to push the advantage until the moment it ran dry. And even in the event that her wings were clipped, she had every intention of ensuring the enemy could not interfere with the designs of the Father and the Hand.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Taral-type Sith Trooper Armor Mk. II - Pattern Besh
  
  • Gauntlets
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R
  • Utility Hardpoint
    
    • FAE/P-03 “Adramelech” Winged Jetpack
      
      • Armament Hardpoint (2)
        
        • Empty
        • FAE/WH-04-S3 Universal Missile - Iadrium Warhead
• Kainate Combat Rifle Model Sixty-Two
  
  • Attachments and Modifications
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • FAE/S-06 Reactive Targeting Matrix - Updated Version
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S3 Energy Weapon Cartridge (10)
    • Portable Projectile Launcher (2)
      
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Iadrium Warhead (6)
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Iadrium Warhead (16)
    • Portable Projectile Launcher (2)
      
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Concussion Warhead (16)
      • FAE/WH-04-S2 Universal Missile - Concussion Warhead (16)
• PV-16 “Sunfury” Pulse Pistol
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
  • Ammunition
    
    • Fusion Cell (4)
• FAE/MDE-01-S2 Semiautonomous Seeker Concussion Explosive (4)

 

[Sable Varro]

​

Determination And Distraction

Tags: Drystan Creed

Equipment Loadout:

• Primary Weapon(s): SD-L1 Long Blaster
• Secondary Weapon(s): HG-88 Big Iron, VB-113 "Tidefall" Class Vibroblade,
• Specialized Gear: Wrist Mounted Weapons (Hekler'Kok WMMW-01), DS-102 "Aegis" Personal Energy Shield,
• Armor & Attire: Personal Armor

---

---

Sable Varro lay prone against the cold rock, her rifle nestled securely against her shoulder. From her elevated position, she had a clear view of the Sith encampment below. Watched as it was wiped out. An explosion sent a plume of fire and debris skyward, momentarily disrupting her line of sight. But as the dust settled, she found him again. There he was, standing untouched amidst the wreckage, golden arcs of energy still flickering at his fingertips.

She wasn’t sure what he was aside from a target, but she would resolve this sooner or later.

She had tracked his movements long enough to know this wasn't luck. He moved with precision, each step deliberate, his body a conduit for power few could harness. The Sith troopers hadn't stood a chance. They never did it seemed.

Slowly, she exhaled through her nose, steadying her aim. The weight of the rifle was familiar, grounding. She adjusted her grip, finger resting just beside the trigger as she studied him through the scope.

He was dangerous. Not just because of his speed or his strength, but because he was methodical. There was no wasted motion, no hesitation. That kind of discipline set him apart from the common Force-wielders she had encountered before. He would not go down easily. They never seemed to.

The comm in her ear crackled to life, his voice filtering through the channel as he relayed his success. Confident. Assured. Perhaps his guard was down, her chance to end this quickly.

Sable's breath evened out, her heartbeat slowing to match the rhythm of the moment.

The boom of thunder followed, and she felt the timing was now.

She pulled the trigger.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

The silence did not hold. It ruptured. The cold did not linger. It shattered. She moved with grace. Precision. Fire trailed in her wake, the ice followed in tongues, a streak of cryo-jets flaring from her coat's ruins like the last desperate claws of resistance. Clever. Tactical. Measured. But it wasn't enough. The cryo stream struck, impacting metal like frozen breath on obsidian tombstone. The warplate hissed. Frost crackled across the leg of the giant, mist blooming where bitter cold met abyssal heat. A lesser being might have stumbled. Darth Prazutis did not. He surged forward. Not with speed, but with inevitability. A continent shifting. A cataclysm unfolding. The giants very presence bent the battlefield. The dark didn't simply return in his wake, it tightened, like a vice around her senses. The storm had not passed. It had grown teeth.

"You reach for the Force like it's your friend." The Mortarch rumbled, his voice erupting from the black like distant thunder rolling across broken stars. "But it doesn't love you, Jedi." All around him the shadows stirred, deepened. He raised one hand from within the blackness, not fast, not grand. It rose as if the world itself obeyed the gesture, and then all at once the air collapsed. From above, behind, and below, the shadows folded into themselves, detonating in absolute pressure, like the deepest depths of the ocean, not to crush, but to pin. The world turned on its axis. There was no telekinetic wave. No flame. Just mass, born of sheer will, slamming downward like a hammer the size of a moon. but barely. A descending grip to try and snare her in its titanic grip. Because this was not the Force as a weapon. This was will rendered into gravity. He stepped through the dark, warblade growling low at his side. The Qâzjiin'vraal hissed where the ice still clung to it, steam rising in curls. From the vents in his back and helm, smoke bled. Not gas. Not steam. Soul burn. Remnants of the black energy she had dared defy.

"You talk to the Force like it's a child. I command it like a god." Then came the strike. He closed the distance with a blur of movement. Towering. Cloaked in nightmare. And he brought the flat of his gauntlet down like a mountain falling sideways, not to kill, but to plant her into the earth, slam her into the soil. A move designed not just to hit, but to show her how small she still was. The Force buckled, and for one heartbeat, everything screamed in silence again.

Jonyna Si ​

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Darth Prazutis

Down she went, but...

Ever resistant to gravity itself. Her feet exploded, as she snarled at the titan. Still far enough away to keep her distance. Good. With the swing of her blade through the air, she launched another sonic attack at him. This time, it was nowhere the concussive freighter to the face, but she still packed a punch, this time, aimed right at that frozen leg. Shatter it, just as she had Darth Carnifex 's. It would only be a small blow, but a blow none the less. She knew to take down a city-tree, you needed to whittle away at it's base.

"No. You beat the Force like a slave. I talk to it like it matters. I give it my thoughts, my hopes. And when I ask it favors, it answers willingly. Like..."

Suddenly, the earth beneath him rumbled, then cracked, and then...

Erupted.

They were on a mountain.

Jonyna had asked the earth to assist.

"So." She said simply, taking a huff to breathe as the magna spat out from under him. She knew it wouldn't kill him. She instead took it as a moment, a single moment, of reprieve. A moment to gather her strength back.