| Naboo Space|
Allies: Abrion System Authority & Allies [[member="Steph Zenima"] & [member="Vascious Relens"]]
Enemies: The Omega Protectorate, [member="Ayden Cater"] & Allies
Objective: Infiltrate the mind of the Lord Protector. Survive the space battle and drop into Naboo's atmosphere.
Then there were two. Anesia's face lit up, and every feature that was normally sharp appeared serene, in the bright glow of Naboo's atmosphere that came ever nearer in the viewport. If she were struggling, the Sith Lord made it hard to tell by physical appearance. It could be said that the raven haired woman had an unshakable trust in [member="Salem Norongachi"], that she had a faith in the man born for war. The reach of both had collided, she could feel it- that combined effort of orchestrating the battle. This however did not dissuade the ambitious Sith, but surely caused quite a bit of a struggle.
"ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Frustration was released by vocals that reverberated inside the ship. Her grip tightened upon the metal handles she hung onto, sweat dotting her brow. That pretty face was coated in a light sheen of sweat, lips drawn into a thin line.
Anger flowed, shimmered within the very tendrils of the ether.
The blanket of influence began to draw back, even as it was being pushed by the power of two working in tandem. It fleeted to its owner upon infinite space, drifted away from the atmosphere as if being slowly spun. Anesia had lost the battle of possessing their fleet as a whole, but she was not done. In the time she warred in meditation with the opposing side, she could taste that it was of the same flavor that worked Druckenwell.
It has that same sour aftertaste and she spat to rid the foul taste and name that came to the forefront from her tongue. The other was light in nature and seemed to shed its beacon of will from the very planet. With that little bit of knowledge, all that power that struck with the mind of animating... networking and guiding the Battle of Naboo on the Protectorate side funneled as it crept back to her. The entirety of the the fleets, the death, debris, the stars that seemed out of reach.
There was a choice to made.
Troops and allies alike were already touching down near Theed.
"For Druckenwell," whispered the woman just as the pent up means to corrupt and sway the mind shot forth. Anesia, still very much utilizing battle meditation, directed her wrath on those strings of the Force, this time narrowing the path to close in on a singular area -the stretch of space where
The Spirit of Druckenwell loomed like a great metal beast aiming to cripple the Lord Protector that it housed. Her power sought that
familiar push from the past to now and plowed. If she could not have the troops of her enemies to bend at will, Anesia wanted the very soul of their leader and his prowess to lead his fleet, diminished. If only for a moment, enough for him to err.
"Not dead though," mused the dark lady.
No. I want you to see what you brought upon Naboo and I want them to blame you as they mourn, [member="Ayden Cater"].
Lord Protector of.... what will they say? The ghost of her voice stretched with her power and she laughed.
The other [Feena] could have the rest, but the General wanted the
heart of The Protectorate and she meant to squeeze until she could hold on no longer. Or until she felt it necessary to move on.
And then....
| Outskirts of Theed |
Even as they sailed through the atmosphere, she held on to that map and destination, still trusting Omega's ability. And though the drop and meet with earth jarred Anesia, so entrenched in her hatred, enthralled with a personal objective, the physical pain had not yet reached her. What it did do was shake, rattle, and roll her concentration in meditation, thus making her unable to continue after the first bout of darkside influence thrown. The dog of war had slipped from her grasp for now. Hate and anger flashed in her eyes when her lids peeled back, shock riddling her features. It was only when the Lord Marshall stirred did she realize her position, only when his hand enclosed over hers, did she begin to feel. The Master had been knocked from where she had stood, and thrown half-way under one of the many seats the craft offered. Crimson streaked alabaster cheeks, starting from somewhere along her hairline, moving well past her chin and the other from her ear on down her neck.
Anesia stood, with albeit as much grace as one could after being tossed about a ship during landing, with the help of the hand that got them on the ground. Alive. She afforded [member="Salem Norongachi"] with a nod in thanks. Meanwhile, her viridian gaze swept his form for damage, and upon finding none to tend or see through the helm, she smiled softly and quickly. After squeezing the gauntlet for a moment, her hand let go and her arm came up to wipe away the blood starting to dry and crust on her pale visage. He had already moved away when she reached for their bond,
I'll be along shortly. She did a quick inventory, her gloved fingers kneading the fabric of her
armor, palms flat to ensure the feel of weapons it housed, and then over the lightsaber hilt still clipped in the d-ring, two
machine pistols holstered in the back of her utility belt, along with the rounds of slugs that went with them:
venom,
bang,
flare, and
shock. Pain slipped in and out as it vied to take control and she grasped either side of the gaping hole that was once the cockpit door.
"Steph," Anesia coughed, spitting blood outside, then took in a mouthful of fresh air or smoke. Likely both and coughed again. The Master felt lighter, lighter than she should have been and her head shook, the braid of hers whipping across her face. Bracing herself with one hand, she glanced back into what was left of the ship and groaned. Without so much as a passing thought, the helm that had been slung in the throws of a rather rocky landing, whipped through the wreckage and directly into her waiting palm. It was malefic in appearance- something she decided then to remedy if she got back- though it served the purpose of her very dark plight this day.
"This is the General," she spoke, still hanging by her hand,
"Ghost is a go."
One foot down, then the other, her boots gave a wet thud on the ground when she let go.
"Ste..." Before Anesia could look down, she froze, her bright green gaze flickering. She felt... Mentally shaking herself, her shoulders heaved within the layers and she fit the helm over her head, securing it, then tossed the hood over the braided crown of dark hair.
"Let's move." I haven't felt that presence since... In the wake of the Omega, Anesia set off on foot upon the same road he paved. Thin fingers flexed, missing the feel of steel, of a sword in her hand. The lightsaber will have to do this time. Yet another thing to remedy. She blinked, though unseen, wore the face of confusion.
After passing body after body, she leaned down, pawing at the fabric of an enemy's armor until she gripped it firmly enough to hold the corpse up and use it as a shield for on coming fire. The pace was slow at first, weaving in and out of Naboo's foliage, waiting for a moment of... reprieve so as not to get blown to pieces before ever arriving to the party. That metaphysical leash was tugged and she urged the monster of a woman onward. "Time to smash..." there was a smile beneath the metal, jovial and sinister at the same bloody time.
