Invasion Gates of Dawn | GA Invasion of BOTM held Shihon and Oyokal

[Amani Serys]

Nyaeli
​

Amani sensed the first attack coming. She anticipated it, and reacted accordingly; Her saber pike swiped up and severed the beast's tail in a single, clean cut. But the second Voxyn caught her off-guard, attacking with a swift, coordinated intelligence that on further proved that something unnatural had taken hold of the jungle. Its claws raked her stomach, leaving gashes through the tunic that immediately stained red.

Amani gasped, and fell to one knee, practically able to feel the pestilence now trying to worm its way through open wounds. Perhaps her healing senses really had developed far enough along to make that literal. The mirialan hovered one hand over the cuts, already beginning to cure them. Blood clotting, bacteria being purged by antibodies and sheer Force energy alike. But she was too open to commit fully. Amani redirected her focus, and raised her saber. She lunged towards the beast in a counterattack, hoping to skewer it.

 

[Westenra Mina]

Wearing: Gladiator Armor

Armed With: Five Rings

Objective: 1

A Maw gunship careened out of control on a collision course with the grounds on the outskirts of the Vong ruins.

Truth be told, she had debated with herself for once about whether to show. After months and months and months of Hardcore Championship Maw Killing, she finally seemed to be reaching something approaching burnout. But her murderous hatred had won out in the end.

As usual.

The lone "living" occupant of the Maw Gunship made sure not to crash into Alliance personnel as it hit the ground (Despite her unshakable suspicion they had deliberately bombed both her as well as Zachariel Steelblood ), instead crashing into a surviving Maw defense line.

She cut her way through the hull with her alchemy damaging sword, just as swarms of curious Alliance Soldiers surrounded the vessel.

Rest assured, they all backed right the hell off when the spotted the Demon of Jedha walking out of the wreckage, bloodshot eyes of crazy scanning them. None of them were people she wanted to butcher.

"Please point me to the nearest Mawites..." she requested, very politely, though everything about her otherwise gorgeous looks screamed that she was crazier than a bag of starved rats.

One of the terrified Alliance Soldiers pointed in the direction of a tunnel they had just been about to storm, not taking his eyes off of her.

Lynda smiled. It was the smile of a Horror Film Slasher as she sprinted into the tunnel, gunfire and inhuman roars from Lynda marking her arrival into this latest conflict.

The Group of Alliance Soldiers started following cautiously behind, stepping over piles of recently eviscerated Mawites in Lynda's deadly, Kratos-esque wake...

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Hehe | Valery Noble BB-610
Not Hehe | Darth Mori

"You should have come alone."

Eyes flaring in surprise, Cora stumbled back hastily in retreat just as Valery stepped forward to shield her. Quivering legs bumped into Bee who'd been staying close. A hand placed on the droid's trembling chassis, trying to steady them both. You didn't need to be able to read into the esoteric energies of the Force to understand that both the girl and the astromech were terrified.

Valery wasn't, though. No, she projected strength and determination, a Beacon of Light clashing against the Tsunami of Darkness. For a moment, Cora lingered back in simple awe of the sheer power thrumming around them. It was deafening, and she felt like a gnat in comparison to the two giants before her.

Then, she remembered that she was not a simple spectator.

"Underestimating her would be a grave mistake,"

Cora's breath hitched as her head turned sharply towards Valery. Was this simple saber rattling, or did her Master truly think that much of her own ability? There was no time for an internal debate. Valery's words swirled in her head, and the Padawan chose to draw as much strength as she could from the confidence that had been placed in her.

Blue eyes closed. Humid jungle air swelled her lungs. Tension eased from taut shoulders as quaking legs fround their footing. The Force flowed, raising a shield around the blonde's consciousness. A hand wrapped around her saber hilt, thumb brushing the ignition.

Azure blade sprang to life, and Cora's lids lifted, hardened gaze reflecting newfound determination.

One last look at Bee, and she gave the droid and curt nod. "We can do this. We will do this!"

Valery surged forward like lightning, attempting to draw the Sith into a clash of the titans. Cora rushed behind her Master, staying in line with where her boots had pressed into the soft earth. Instead of taking Mori head on, she veered to the left, aiming a thrust just above the Sith Lord's hip to test her reaction.

 

[Brama Tagge]

BYOO | Tepasi | Tepasi Estate | Office

​

Technical difficulties were the eldest Tagge's greatest barrier to her involvement with these last-minute corrals.

She’d heard the proceedings from the moment Senator Vahl initiated the meeting.

She started to see the proceedings rebroadcast into her office when Senator Organa defended the long-drawn process of democracy.

She'd heard aye's and nays, seen who they belonged to, all while she wanted to get involved. Could they see her? Looking agitated as a hoogram?

Only on the tail-end of Vahl's speech about ironing out succession, did her two-way ability to broadcast her holo self work. Her aide had been on lunch, and leaving the elderly Tagge alone with technology was a frustrating and useless process. By the time she'd found her monocle, and could properly read muted, she'd missed the point she had been trying to speak, fruitlessly, earlier. Now she was just expected to Aye or Nay.

Which, honestly, was fine with her.

While the debate had been good, the eldest Tagge had an appreciation for those who initiated a good hunt with boundaries and expectations. Lest, otherwise, they be prey.

She waved away the mute button, turning herself into something that had sound, she cast her vote for that which would propel The Alliance forward on stronger grounds, and get closer to removing ambiguity with their leadership which had rested solely on the shoulders of one person. She'd seen what that had done to her brother, before he had a Vice Chancellor. It had been too much, and the sheer burden of it all, Brama considered was still his undoing.

"Count Tepasi's position in favour. Aye."

---

Annasari | Ruto Tane | Arage Bao | Talia Halcorr | Alicio Organa | Damian Du Couteau | Tiresh Kobitana-Draellix | Desric Terassi | Caulder Dune | Rulonom Laborr

 

[Asmundr Varobalder]

THE WARDEN
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | SELVARIS | PROSPERITY | MEDITATION SPHERE

Lately, Asmundr had been trying to explore the whispers of the future in shapes other than lines. Time was no linear, why were his visions? Why were they narrow trajectories only? There were probably many things he was missing partly because of how he interpreted the galaxy's murmurs and promises.

When he was patient enough, these lines connected. Sometimes just as lattices or networks, but today, in the depths of the seer's connection, it was something more obvious. Something that had structure and a presence so dark that it permeated through their explorative link.

Red lines of honeycomb shape skittered and spider webbed away from the shadow in the distance. With a few more steps taken forward, Asmundr slowly found himself more able to answer his counterpart's question.

Darkness' Throne. He ascertained, and looked at it intently. The more he perceived, the clearer the spikes and spirals became. A Citadel within Exegol.

With each step, the lines around them blurred and reformed. As if Henna and Asmundr were walking deeper and deeper into the Citadel itself, and exploring from point to point. Corners turned around them, walls rose and fell, doors opened and shut, and darkness bellowed pervasively.

If this is your Shatterpoint, our Jedi will have to be more prepared than we initially thought.

---

SEERS | Henna Ashina
ALLIES | NJO | GA |
FOES | THE DARKSIDE | BOTM |

 

[Osarla Ridor]

GENERAL RIDOR
222ND NOVA CORPS | 512TH LEGION | 312 ATTACK BATALLION
OYOKAL | ENEMY TERRITORY | EX SITH TORTURE CHAMBER VERY COOL THANK YOU LOVE THAT FOR US

The violent purples and yellows that would have formed all over her back and hips started to withdraw. The bruises that would be, would never come. Sion’s affinity for accelerating the healing process helped the agony in Osarla’s body start to withdraw. Beneath her armorweave, she could feel parts of her skin that had torn open start to seal.

“Stop, stop,” she encouraged at a certain point. To prove it, she drew herself to her knees and eventually to stand. Something in her spine popped, but it didn’t feel bad. “Save your strength, Sion.”

The light from her sabre, now heightened alongside its wielder, poured over the corners of the chamber. It was sinister. All it took was a few more seconds to discern that this was some sort of torture chamber, not a laboratory.

In fact, the table she’d cracked her back over, looked similar to the one she’d found Sion bound to on Lao Mon.

Osarla looked away from the table, and peered up at the hole they’d come through. It was wide and far away.

Her sole objective now was getting herself and her student out of here, especially now that she’d recognized what this place was. She didn’t need Sion having a panic attack in the heat of battle.

It hurt when she lifted her arm, and she grunted when the kickback of her grappling hook jerked back down her elbow. The rope fired up, up, up, up, to the edge of the fallen ground. At first, Osarla was concerned it wouldn’t be long enough. Just when she swore she was on her last inch, the hook made purchase in the dirt above. She gave it test yank, not even her full weight, and immediately more of the earth fell away. At first, it was hook-sized. Then, it cracked and spiderwebbed through the crust to eliminate another quarter of the ceiling; filling the room with clumps of debris.

One debris, a stone the size of Sion’s upper half, clunked down onto a metal-arm that looked like it was oft’ used for precise incisions. The arm crumpled beneath the stone’s weight, and tipped over. Its base lifted, racing up the wall and activating something that had been dormant for a decade.

A dread alarm flared in the back of Osarla’s neck, and she immediately stepped in front of Sion. Her blade angled across her torso, and a rogue streak of plasma bounced harmlessly from her blue line to the ground. Then another came, and another, and another in quick succession.

She pulled Sion and herself just a few steps out of the way. The plasma continued to scorch the ground where they’d been standing, ignorant to its success or failure.

At the same time, her comm's static popped and fizzed near her neck.

"Nova Actual, this is Flower, requesting authorization to engage."

They were so far down, it was nearly impossible to get a signal that connected them to the rest of the Nova Corps.

"Nova Actual, do you read?"

Osarla made a noise that sounded like a cuss. Try as she might, she couldn't get her side of the communique to work. She couldn't deliver the order to Major Ocano to engage. She just had to trust the woman would know how best to move forward.

"We'll find another way out." The tip of her saber pointed to what looked like a hallway entrance to the left of the device that had been firing at them. "There."

---

ALLIES | GA | NJO | Teshi Ocano | Sion Lorray | Mrir'ik'amorn
FOES | THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | Enyo Typhos

 

[Cordé Sabo]

______________________________________________________________
D U L C E T
HYPERLANE BETWEEN SHIHON AND OYOKAL | EN ROUTE TO OYOKAL
______________________________________________________________
​

The muscles in Cordé’s arms were so tense, that if Frea touched her, she might have shattered into a million pieces. Every inch of skin beneath her suit had pebbled, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit the tremble that coursed through her spine like a current was raw fear.

She didn’t have the confidence to celebrate until Frea congratulated her on a job well done. Cordé hadn’t even fully understood what her job was, but she seemed to have done it. They were still alive. The cliffs had disappeared. The black stars in the peripherals of her vision hadn’t entirely rescinded yet, which gave Frea the free space to do whatever she wanted with the display without her passenger’s anxious questioning.

Frea did touch her, and Cordé didn’t shatter. She just blinked a lot, and finally exhaled out everything that had built up in her chest and lungs through the anticipation.

“Wow..” she murmured, and flexed her hands, finally peeling them away from the throttle. “You’re either really good, or really bad. I can’t tell which, but you’re definitely insane.”

They weren’t finished. There was more! Normally, Cordé was shoved in the hull alongside other team members, waiting for deployment. She’d never been this intimate with the cockpit and all its terrors before — she was keen on this being the first and last time.

“This is weird..” Her observation was as candid as it was valueless. Manoeuvring asteroids within the field itself was unorthodox, but so was skipping from one system to another. Its effectiveness wasn’t something they’d watch play out, but Cordé had seen the idea executed in hologames before, but it was usually with banana peels or oil spills.

The rockfield shifted, the tunnel of light welcomed them back into its luminescent embrace once more, and then slapped them out into Oyokal. Cordé knew they’d made it, because her vambrace was suddenly aglow with coordinates that matched her to their destination. She lifted her arm to look at the numbers and map, but suddenly felt weightless and weird. Her blood felt like bubbles, and the entire world around them blurred into grey and black. Countering the loss of gravity and centre proved impossible, and try as she might, Cordé couldn’t read the scrawl of text on her arm.

Until Frea jilted them, again, and they were back to an altitude that normalised the cabin pressure.

“Holy feth,” she whispered swiftly, and absorbed herself in the numbers on her vambrace rather than anything that might freak her out if she looked up. There was a certain solace that came with Frea’s obvious jubilance, but there was also the concern that she was sharing an intimate proximity with a psycho.

“About fifty-five flicks north,” She answered. “There’s a forward operating station established after the last Chiss wipeout here.” She frowned, and pointed toward the nose of the ship to act as a compass.
A few new updates pinged to her screen.

“Looks like neither…Nova Corps or Pathfinders have confirmed securing the base yet.” She frowned, considering the implications. “It could still be hostile down there. Let’s take a quiet approach, see what we’re dealing with.”

Thought looped from thought, trying to conceive plan B, C and D now that plan A was out the window. Where were Teshi Ocano , Mrir'ik'amorn , Osarla Ridor and Sion Lorray if they weren't at the rendezvous?

Plan B could be dropping Cordé first, and she could call in an aerial strike from Frea to distract any residual Mawites while she took control.
Plan C could be both of them going in silent, and taking the station from the inside could —

"Can this ship be controlled remotely? The weapons?"

______________________________________________________________

F O E S | THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | OPEN
F R I E N D S | GA | NJO | SIA | Frea Sheplin
______________________________________________________________​

 

[Frea Sheplin]

Cordé Sabo

"It's a ship, lady. Not a drone." Frea responded, dryly. "No it cannot."

While the ship was pointing in the correct direction it would still start to slow down as Frea looked over at Cordé with a dead serious expression across her face. The stare turned into a sidestare and then into a look out of the window. This was no longer Plan A, and as far as B, C, all the way to Z went, Frea felt severely out of the loop.

No, that would not do.

"We will have to land and take in reconnaissance from an advantageous vantage point." She muttered and began to look around the area for landing spots. There was a hilltop, but it would mean a small hike from a clearing where the ship could touch down and hopefully remain undetected. "Unless your sources in the defense force have some sort of intel to show us, we would potentially be rushing into a live fire environment that we might not ever come back from."

"Your call, Doc." Frea frowned.

 

[Nyaeli]

Location: Selvaris
Attani Implant: Link!
Tag: Amani Serys

With its tail severed, the Voxyn shrieked in agony and disappeared into the bushes, while the other launched its attack to pressure the Jedi Knight. In a fast hit-and-run attack, the beast clawed open the woman's stomach, but rather than immediately attacking again, it kept its distance, expecting the disease to kill her swiftly.

But to its surprise, the woman lived somehow.

Immediately, the Voxyn sprung back in action, but several steps too late. The blade of Amani's saberpike was thrust forward while she closed the distance, and impaled the creature through its torso. It screamed, squirmed, and clawed at Amani's face in a desperate attempt to take her down, but its time among the living was over.

You shouldn't have come alone.​

In an attempt to exploit Amani potentially being weakened by the attack, Nyaeli used her attani implant in an attempt to directly project her voice into the Jedi's mind. Unlike the telepathy between Jedi, this was forced and meant to not only communicate but find a way through her defenses, so she could begin her mental assault. But Nyaeli had far more planned than just another attempt at driving a Jedi into madness.

She had felt her pain and smelled blood.

With the hilt of her lightsaber drawn into her hand, she closed the distance through dense flora and soon appeared in sight. A grin of insanity spread itself across her face, and with a flick of her thumb, she ignited her crimson blade.

You should have let that disease be your end. It would have been far quicker.​

She said telepathically again, despite their proximity.

 

[BB-610]

| LOCATION: Selvaris |
| FRIEND: Valery Noble | Corazona von Ascania |
| FOE: Darth Mori |


A revolting display of unhinged famine swallowing the landscape around them, it didn't take long at all for BB-610 to quickly understand that this Sith was nothing alike the ones he had worked alongside before. The telltale signs were there - autumn eyes that glowed with sadism, the hum of a lightsaber that painted the world a brilliant crimson, biting words that left bitter lips, oozing with visceral resentment. But there was something about the woman that carried a distinct air around her. She was outnumbered, yet that didn't phase her in the slightest, it seemed; confident and in complete disregard to the lives of those before her, it was a specific sentence that drove the droid forward without thought.

"Killing her yourself would have been a mercy compared to the death you've handed her instead."

A threat, weaved in the same acidic animosity that Valery had told them about. Without wasting a second, blue optic flickering to a bright red, BB-610 emerged from behind Cora's legs, instead rushing in front of her with a metallic shriek, tool-bay disk sliding open and shock prod primed with the crackle of static as though he were a loyal guard dog protective of its owner; hardly a threatening display given the droid's diminutive stature, but there existed no world in which he would allow the harm of his loved ones. Advanced photoreceptors keeping themselves fixed on the Sith, the astromech glared, carried by artificial adrenaline and blissfully ignorant of just how much he was biting off more than he could chew.

Some sense was knocked into him as teacher and student sprinted forth to strike against their adversary. BB-610 was hopelessly outmatched against the Sith, relying heavily on Valery and Cora to provide their offense. The Sith could kill him. He knew that-- he knew that she could crush his circuits and toss him aside as though he were little more than a fly that proved more of an inconvenience than a threat. He knew that she could dig her blade into his chassis, frying his servos and puncturing his processors, and he would have neither the Force or a lightsaber of his own to defend himself with. But if he were to see his last day, he would happily shut down knowing that he'd helped his family to the best of his abilities. They had provided love, affection, and loyalty that Sith like Mori never could have managed. So as he rolled forward, motors whirring and droidbrain dismissing the odds of survival, he allowed the duo to take the lead.

Swiftly steering behind the Sith, BB-610 opted for more of a supportive role. Compartments along his chassis opening up as his cable launchers shot six grapple hooks, the astromech went to swerve them around Mori's feet in an attempt to tangle her up and limit her movement. Tightening his cords by tugging a few meters away from the Sith, BB-610 steadied his shock prod, ready to dispense its overcharged electricity should the woman turn to take a strike.

 

[Vitiion Corrend]

“Fellows.”

She startled herself in a strange way by suddenly speaking up, like wading into the deep end of a pool knowing damn well you couldn’t swim.

“You recently accepted me into your collective presence and for that I am grateful,” she continued before making a moment’s eye contact with Arage then shifted her gaze clockwise around the table. “Though I do wish to get to know your house with all of its political appendages intact. I trust that’s no controversial appeal.”

The issue on the table is opportunistic, yes, but it is far from unjust. The Alliance by its Constitution is entitled a Vice Chancellor, one our dear leader has had months now to suggest at her pleasure. Obviously, that convenience has not yet come, but for it we should not be expected to wait any longer.”

She gave a quick sigh to chase away her jitters building with the anticipation of what came next in her phonological loop. “I admit, considering the dark haze of control my people have all too recently been freed from, I am most hesitant to say this: put aside the possibility of Sith puppetry for a moment and consider only that we are missing a part of our government—one that we must replace if, for whatever the reason, the Chancellor has neglected to. We cannot function as intended if we don’t. It’s not personal; it’s pragmatic.”

She folded her hands, with which she had punctuated her speech with appropriate gestures, neatly on the table. “Byss votes aye.”

Annasari | Tiresh Kobitana-Draellix | Ruto Tane | Damian Du Couteau | Alicio Organa | Caulder Dune | Talia Halcorr | Rulonom Laborr | Desric Terassi | Tarish Galland | H Holly Starstorm | Arage Bao

 

[The Manifold]

The Manifold listened to Mercy's ruthless offer with interest. If they could not do as they had hoped, could not replace the Droid God and restore Its realm, they could at least gain some measure of vengeance upon their old tormentor. Their thoughts drifted to the conversion needles their old body had possessed, injectors at the ends of the flexible metal tentacles that had hidden within their body cavity. They had used those needles to convert many organics to the service of Omni, giving their lives purpose.

The Manifold's new body, forged by the Brotherhood, was as much prison as it was armor. This hulking metal form, created in the dark forges of Mar'Zambul by the master smiths of the Gundanbard, was extremely resilient... but it lacked those conversion needles, for the Mawites had no interest in allowing The Manifold to create more drones. More to the point, the Manifold was not certain the process would even work now, without the Droid God reaching out from the Netherworld to empower the conversion.

But perhaps they could still find some way to use their remaining powers to enslave the Taskmaster.

That would be poetic justice indeed - to make the Ebruchi suffer just as his slaves had.

"You Provide: Coordinates," the drone replied. "We Provide: Vengeance."

The bargain was struck. The lair of the Taskmaster was vulnerable.

---------------------------------
​

Kallan smiled as Keilara spoke, laying out the beauty of their past and future alike, all the times they had struggled and fought against all odds and still somehow managed to hold strong to each other. He knew that she would be happy no matter what, so long as she could stay with him. But as much as he loved her, staying here in this shared mind wasn't enough. He felt the weight of responsibility, a deep inner drive that told him "no rest until this is done, until this story comes to an end for everyone in it."

~ We'll find a place together, inside the mind or out, ~ he told his wife, reassuring her. ~ When this is done, we'll find peace, just us and our family. ~ But there was still a hard edge in him, one last lingering anchor that weighed him down, one last tether to his old life that he had to resolve. The galaxy would never stay saved, the struggles would never end, but he could close this chapter in the endless annals of war. He could strike one last blow against the people who had taken his life, his body, his family.

~ As soon as Tu'teggacha is gone. As soon as we finish this Shadow War. Then, peace. ~

Keilara Kala'myr​

 

[Rulonom Laborr]

BYOO - GOLDEN OPPORTUNITIES


Talia Halcorr Annasari Tiresh Kobitana-Draellix Ruto Tane Damian Du Couteau Alicio Organa Caulder Dune Arage Bao Tarish Galland Vitiion Corrend Brama Tagge
​

​

His withdraw from the proposal was logical at the time. There was little need to weaken the chancellor's office if the next chancellor was a corporatist, doing so would prove disadvantageous to the Trade Federation in the Future. Of course there was no guarantee on whom the next chancellor of the alliance would be and so his theory was just that a theory without any evidence to support it.

Senator Ruto Tane came to quite a logical conclusion as he spoke to the opposition members within the chamber. Laborr had to agree with many of his points, Chancellor Auteme was being reckless by directly fighting on the front lines although it did make for excellent propaganda to raise the morale of the alliance soldiers on the front by showing them that there leader put herself in danger for their sake. In that aspect the idea of a vice-chancellor being needed now was more apparent than ever before.

It would seem that Senator Annasari was quick to respond to his concerns by pointing out that the Guild would pay him back if he maintained his yes stance on the proposal. The economic considerations also took him by surprise for the most part. The Trade Federation could I'll afford the markets going under if the current chancellor was incapacitated completely.

Senator Brama Tagge announced her support for the proposal, and even the recently elected Senator of Byss Vitiion Corrend gave her approval for the proposal.

It became apparent that he would be in the minority and the Trade Federation could not look weak.

"After some reconsiderations, the Delegation from Skako will support the proposal once more." Laborr explained switching his vote once more.

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom
Mongrel's Shadow and his widow; Matriarch of the Scar Hounds Tribe; Guardian of Mongrel's armour and sword​

Objective: Try to contact Manifold and ask his help.
Location: Ancient ruins, Selvaris
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Writing With: The Manifold (and as Kallan) | Closed

[ Come back… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

~ Mercy ~
I didn't know what to expect, because he was a machine. For a machine, there were no feelings, only logic. Although I think this decision was logical, I don't know how he or Freedom would have decided. That's all I had. I couldn't have offered him anything else. I didn't have much power, I wasn't a Sith, I wasn't a Jedi. Only a telepath and an empath who could best use his powers on Asher. On him to protect him. I could defend myself and others very well, and I was able to attack somewhat crudely, but offence was not my forte. It was on instinct that I attacked Tu'teggacha on Exegol before the twins were born.

I was able to change the mind palace the way I wanted, my mental shields were strong, I was able to draw others here, protect them. Or killing dozens of people with a telepathic scream. And of course I could read other people's minds, but I never mastered learning to control them. It wasn't necessary. I never manipulated Asher. If I had, he might would be still alive. It was my fault too. But the Maw hurt him so much and so much time that I didn't want to cause any pain to him, I didn't want to hurt him, just protect him. I could have easily done it at any time, for power or whatever.

But I never did, I never even looked into his memories. Only to what he allowed. I didn't research it. Yes, I've regretted not manipulating him and Barran on Tython countless times. That I didn't do everything to make them both give up the fight. I wouldn't have expected her to understand, I would have hated myself for the rest of my life for doing this to her. But he might would be still alive. It would have been worth the price. I felt hot tears running down my face again. Then maybe it would have hurt less.

And finally Manifold spoke. I was relieved when he accepted the offer. That means I can go find Asher in the Netherworld soon.

<< Thank you, Manifold! >> I told him honestly. << You will receive the coordinates soon. Not now, I still have a few things to do and soon according to intelligence reports there will be a major attack on the Maw. Then we'll strike. Then I will contact you again with the same beacon. I don't have another one, Freedom helped me build it, so when you get the signal again, you will know it will be me who is looking for you. You come to me first that day, then we go there together. And from there to the Netherworld, where you also get Freedom. >>

However, there was one more thing I had to ask before it all started. I didn't want to go there unprepared, to jump into this.

<< Do you need anything from me for the mission? A weapon, some equipment, anything? >> I asked him again, since next time we will only talk when we go, and then we won't be able to plan. Just now.

~ Keilara ~
I loved when he smiled; he seemed much younger then, a bit naughty. It's like he's a completely different person, carefree and happy. It gave me the most joy to see his sincere and carefree smile. After all, what else could I have wished for? Despite this, his fear, fright and despairing look were also there in my mind's eye, from the memory of me dying. Tython was painful for everyone, infinitely painful. But I tried to get lost in his smile, which wasn't difficult. After all, I loved him with all my heart and soul. Everything seemed so easy next to him, even the most difficult things.

I smiled at him too, but even though Kallan was smiling and his words were optimistic, I could feel the darkness and dark thoughts. This also caused me pain, though I didn't want to show it. I just wanted her to smile. After his words, I reached up to his face and stroked it kindly.

~ I don't like it when darkness surrounds you and affects you so much. You just have to hold on a little longer ~ I asked him. ~ Why do I think you would want to do to him what he did to you? Or do you just want to kill him? ~

I don't know if this fear of mine was true or not, but I was afraid and worried that he might think such a thing. Even now I didn't look into his thoughts, I respected his privacy, despite the fact that we were already one. We were able to be ourselves, we became stronger and that was okay.

~ I know how much you suffered, that he took everything from you and that you still don't remember a lot of things and maybe you never will. I have no right to ask you to try to forgive him because you got so much else. Me, our children… ~ my voice stopped for a moment. ~ But if you let the hate get the better of you, he wins. Don't seek revenge, leave that to Mercy. Don't become what he wanted to mould you into. You don't have to become Asher, he and Mercy are our worst sides, they were born from hate, anger and fear. The Jedi weapon is compassion, not revenge. We don’t need revenge to defeat him. ~

I stood on tiptoe and now I gave him a kiss on the forehead.

~ Fight the darkness a little longer, it will soon be over and he can no longer harm you, or me, or Mercy, or Asher, or Abi, or little Asher. I won't leave you alone, never! ~ I whispered and laced my fingers between his.

 

[Sion Lorray]

ALLIES | GA | NJO | Teshi Ocano | Osarla Ridor | Mrir'ik'amorn

FOES | THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | Enyo Typhos

Her sole objective now was getting herself and her student out of here, especially now that she'd recognized what this place was. She didn't need Sion having a panic attack in the heat of battle.

It was a bit late for that.

The moment Osarla ignited her lightsaber the room lit up in a flash of brilliant light. Sion looked around. At first he didn't recognize it or rather he did not wish to do so. But it didn't take long before realization was forced on him. He froze up and stared at one of the torture desks. The one nearest to them and still unbroken. Caked blood still clinging its metal surface. Now Sion was back with the Maw and his mind fled this dark, bloody room, in favor of even darker memories.

He mostly did not register Osarla's movements. Not the way she stepped up in front of him to protect him, not when she pulled them both aside to continue the defense.

"I can't be here..." Sion whispered with a coarse voice. Strong for so long, but it was strength borrowed on time, brittle and waiting to snap. Even as Osarla pointed the way his mind fled again. This time not towards familiar scorching memories, but outward. Casting himself away from his mangled and broken body into the facility proper.

It quested.

And... it didn't take long to be drawn as a moth to a flame by Enyo.

Because Enyo? Was quiet, peaceful and joyfully mute. The average sentient had so many emotions, but Enyo either was stripped off them or was shielded by so many layers that Sion couldn't get to them. It was brilliant, beautiful, his mind had not experienced such quietness before. Sion never wanted to leave its proximity.

"She is coming..." Muttered now and as Osarla shook at him, trying to get him to wake up from his disbodied experience, his hand touched her jaw. And an image of Enyo marching towards them was burned into Osarla's mindview.

 

[Auteme]

Kyrel Ren ​

The once-man's voice was painful to hear; she could hear the hatred reverberating through his words, if not his entire body. Even as she struck him she felt like another person come to chip away at his exterior, sharpening him further and further into hatred.

She pulled her hand back, and the great wave of Force-strands withdrew. Was fighting even worth it? What was this, other than the destruction of one or the other? But when she looked at him, at that great ball of hatred, for the first time she felt no empathy, no outpouring of love, no matter how small or desperate. She was empty.

"Why are you like this?" She called, seized suddenly by curiosity even surrounded by danger. "What are you?"

 

[Ishida Ashina]

SELVARIS | YUUZAN VONG WARCAMP | TUNNELS
LEADER OF THE COMPANIONS | BEARER OF THE RING OF JUDGEMENT

​

Master Sardun had mastered Force Body in a way that made him impenetrable. She’d witnessed his throat gorged out and he’d barely flinched. By nature of his pedagogies, Ishida’d practiced it a little. The benefits to someone her size were obvious, but she was a far cry from the virtuoso Sardun had been. But she knew enough. And the ring helped.

Actually, it was mostly the ring that saved her from the otherwise bone-crunching bear hug and suffocating collision with the duracrete. She would have been Atrisian jam if it weren’t for the supernatural reinforcement that came with the legacy left behind to the Scion of Sardun.

The impact was like a thunderclap. Ishida felt the floor, and Mercy, pressed into her from opposing sides. Her bones creaked and flexed, but did not break. Her skin felt egg-shell thin, and yellowed and blackened immediately. The least of all evils.

Wind whooshed through her, leaving not even enough breath to make her vocal chords buzz — just a pathetic afterthought of an agonised yawp. Her vision was blackened, skittering around in technicoloured patterns that pulsed and ached behind her eyes.

But through the incredible headache and vacancy in her lungs, The Force persevered. The skittering lines of incomprehensible, amorphous blobs that were meant to be pain translated to something more perceptive. At this proximity, with all this touch, Shatterpoint was more available to Ishida than it had ever been with this particular foe.

She paired whatever miniscule insight she could gather from her perception, with the outrageous boom that permeated from her core and outward. An invisible eruption that arced her spine and would force Mercy, and probably some stuff in the immediate area, off and away from her.

If it worked, Ishida’d gasp and scramble away from where she'd been.

Only in freedom did the wretched reality of their new location dawn on her.

---

ALLIES | NEW JEDI ORDER | GALACTIC ALLIANCE |
FOES | BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | Mercy

​

 

[Mercy]

Ishida Ashina
​

They crunched into the ground. This close, skin to skin, Mercy felt the hardening of skin all the same. She knew, there and then. But couldn't stop it as she was blasted off of Ishida and thrown into a wall. Something crunched within her. A shoulder popping out its socket perhaps. A vertebrae in her spine dislocating. Blood vessels in her eyes and brain popping. Maybe it was none of those. Mercy slid down the wall and as she tried to rise up, her knee buckled and Mercy chuckled.

No, it was all of the above.

She quested for Ishida's shape as she snatched her shoulder and surgically popped it back into place. Here was the issue. It wasn't Ishida that caught her attention. Instead it was their surroundings.

Bulbous, fleshy and crimson.

Organic.

Mercy's mouth curled into a disgusted grimace as she stepped forwards towards where she had left Ishida. So far so good. Until something crunched beneath her heel. She looked down and it looked remarkably like a membrane-lined egg. It had looked like that anyway. Instead it was seeping blood and the half-formed remains of some mutant chit was gasping its last breath.

"Hm, that doesn't look good." The Sith Knight didn't have the time to regret that choice of words, because right there and then cries started to sound through the cavern.

The ground, fleshy as it was, beating with the tension of skittering legs and limbs.

"You feeling what I feel, Ashina?"

The little troll had to be here somewhere.

 

[Desric Terassi]

GOLDEN OPPORTUNITIES
Rulonom Laborr | Talia Halcorr | Annasari | Tiresh Kobitana-Draellix | Ruto Tane | Damian Du Couteau | Alicio Organa | Caulder Dune | Arage Bao | Tarish Galland | Vitiion Corrend​

There were more voices in opposition now, but they were still a clear minority. Only time would tell if that trend would continue once the Senate had a chance to convene in full. If the greater Senate disapproved of an 'emergency resolution', he did not expect it to last long, but if it did procedural missteps could be swept under the rug.

When push came to shove, politics tended to get pragmatic.

A single elegant eyebrow was raised at Arage Bao 's retort. "Setting aside the semantics for another day, electing a Vice Chancellor by nonstandard means would indisputably set a precedent - doubly so if the suggested resolution makes the committee a permanent fixture. Such a change should not be made lightly except in cases of dire necessity."

To call the current situation one of 'dire necessity' would be borderline farcical.

"It is true that the current lack of a Vice Chancellor places the Alliance in a seemingly vulnerable position, but appearances are not everything. Even in politics." A brief pause to accentuate the point. "The institutions we have built and the procedures we have developed are more than capable of handling a so-called succession crisis. If anything, a panicked scramble to replace the Vice Chancellor with little regard to convention would spread doubt, not lessen it."

Speaking of doubt, Rulonom Laborr earned a look of disgusted exasperation for his constant flip-flopping and short-sighted profit-chasing. It was that kind of behaviour that gave Corporatists a bad reputation.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

Osarla Ridor , Sion Lorray

Organics were chaotic, messy. Bleating and puking their feelings all over the place. Crowds of organics were hell for any empath. Being among masses of people had been debilitating for Enyo's young 'niece'. Until her Force empathy had atrophied.

But Enyo's mind was...different. Tidy, pure, silent. She didn't rejoice at the dried blood, at the echo of torment that resonated across this dark place. Unlike presumably most Sith. Nor did she feel outrage or sadness. She simply registered it dispassionately. To touch her mind was like brushing against an icy glacier. There was a beauty to ice.

She felt the strange presence touch her mind just as a turret suddenly levelled its barrel towards her, and spat plasma. It struck a gauntleted palm, energy crawling over her hand as she drew it inside her, absorbing it. More bolts of plasma lit up the dark corridor. Her eyes flashed crimson as the pure, mute mind stretched out, forcing its willpower upon the turret. It was, after all, just a machine. The turret ceased firing, altering its designation of her from hostile to a non-threat.

Mildly annoyed at the interruption, she could not shake off a sentiment of mild curiosity at the presence that seemed to be trying to latch onto her with frantic desperation. What was it that they were running from? She could hear the turret roaring from afar as it unloaded upon the Jedi, though the noise was muted by distance.

Momentarily pausing her stride, she retrieved two tiny, metal bots that resembled wasps from her backpack. There was a jolt in her skull as she gave them silent commands through purely electronic communication. Observe and follow the Jedi, if translated from machine speech. The wasps vanished into the darkness, and she continued moving to the source of the noise. Should the Jedi run, the wasps would follow, as would she.