Invasion Look What You Made Me Do (TSE Invasion of NIO Held Borosk & Troska)

[Kascalion Giedfield]

Location: Cassel Point, Borosk | Ramparts
Objective: Take the Stronghold | Kill the New Imperial Order Forces | Continue verbally blasting Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
Allies: TSE
Enemies: NIO | Irveric Tavlar
NPC Forces:

• Cognus Legion - 1st Battalion - Korriban Company [121 Soldiers]
• Argent Walkers - 2nd Battalion - Typh Company [95 Soldiers] / WIP
• KS-05 "Goliath Stampede" [2 Droids - Gigasmite and Lunarhem]

Equipment:

• Battle Form [Metamorphosed into X]
• Armor [Ceremonial / Helmet Removed]
• Weapon [Lodged in Ramparts]

Theme: Murder Machine

---

Void Grenades. The New Imperial Order most certainly enjoyed using them against those that used the Force as their primary mode of attack. Tavlar had used it during their first encounter. Lyra during their first encounter. And each time, they held the advantage over him. Today will be different. There will be no second time for the Punished Imperator, he of the Imperials who serves as the foe of the Force itself. There is no other way this battle ends. There can be no other way this battle ends.

Now, you fail once again, Tavlar.

The Slayer charges as the black smoke stuck to his armor and flowing through the air grasps for the Devil, its anti-power threatening him all the same despite this self-assurance. The gleaming blade extends from the man's gauntlet and travels down toward Kascalion's chest like a heavenly arrow shot at Mach speeds. The armored shoulder hits the center of the Promethean's body and the impact sends earthquake-like ripples through his ancient body - an audible grunt heaves out of his throat as he begins to bend forward and careen backward.

Now.

The blade passes through his armored chest like butter, but he pays the pain no mind for he allows it to make its home in his flesh. He begins to fall back from the impact of the Punished's tackle, but he allows himself to fall down towards his hell that he has escaped so often. And the smoke draws closer and closer to affecting him every millisecond, but he allows it to race and snarl like a hunting dog. Part of the plan. Part of the tactic. Part of the victory.

You are strong, but you are too late, Imperator.

Kascalion moves to wrap his arms around the man's torso to drag him down as well. And as they would fall towards the earth below the ramparts and the smoke both on the man's armor and in the air would encroach further, the black veins inside the Devil's body will begin to rush like an overcharged speeder. The violet blood inside them coursing like lightning during a storm. His bones will cement to an Impervium's hardness and his tissues will tear and repair together even more than they already were, trapping the blade inside his chest.

Increased strength. Increased speed. Increased density and mass. Increased endurance. Mutagenics.

The smoke will still sprint towards the Devil as if drawn to him, conscious of its purpose to weaken him for Tavlar - who himself is already hidden to the Force. But he has to let it hit him and prove himself stronger than it - stronger than a condition. He has to prove himself to those who taught him the ways of war and combat during his time before kingship.

"Let the enemy control your body knowing they hold the advantage, and the enemy will win the fight. Let the enemy control your body to believe they hold the advantage, and you will win the fight."

The two will connect with the ground as the smoke washes over them and the effects begin to take hold in the Devil's body. He will only respond by shifting his body and arms from the Slayer's torso to seize his free wrist and yank it back and up into an arm-lock. Simultaneously, the Promethean will wrap his leg's around his foe and lock them at the feet to ensure he cannot be shaken off.

"She will be lost to you, Tavlar!" the cretin of the Dark Side will howl and with laughter as he applies more pressure to the lock, attempting to ignore the building sickness within him. "And you will watch as I rend her soul apart, forge her into something unrecognizable. Something so unworthy to existence that the Force will abandon her in the end. Something you will be disgusted by. Something you will only look upon with utter hate. And I will watch as you put her down like a mangy rat."

 

[Lirka Ka]

Location: Cassel Point
Objective: Destroy
Enemies: NIO and Allies
Allies: TSE and Allies
Tags: Aerith Castiella

Trash. She was surrounded by Trash. Even the beauty of war could not quench the hatred that bubbled forth like an unstoppable tide, and for the poor poor trooper in front of her: she had become the icon of Lirka's boundless hate for all things that was not herself. Sinew and muscle continued to regrow in the wound on her leg, filling the area with the vague sound of sloshing and popping, but she advanced regardless: the deranged fury of before turning from an inferno to a brutal cold in an instant, Lirka always had been unpredictable.

The axe struck home, a burning rent stabbed into the plundered beskar of her chestplate. But she advanced regardless, even as the heat slowly melted the undersuit beneath: and she felt the familiar exhilaration and suit and flesh burned into one, pain. Yes. Sweet pain. She was alive, still alive. Through pain she would find truth, through suffering she would find enlightenment. But still...it seemed the trooper resisted the embrace of death. How unfortunate.

"Sal am Al arsurinya, Coo."

She returned to her native tongue, the words dancing out like a knife: holding all the sharpness of the retort. But the cold advance quickly turned into a raging inferno once again, her words shouted out to the Galaxy once again. A declaration, an announcement, and an introduction to titles all the same.

"I am the end! I am death! I am the Dark!"

And with that growling cry, Aerith was given her dance. Lirka was upon her once again, a metal hand swinging in an attempt to simply backhand the human off her feet once again, all of Lirka's unnatural strength thrown behind the blow.

 

[Careena Fett]

[ Theme ]​

C a r e e n a _ F e t t

| Location | Aboard the HIMS Baneful​

| Objective | Sabotage Engine Systems​

| Company | Ra Vizsla / Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt / NIO Boarders​

| Hostiles | Lark / Orion Darkstar ​

​

Careena perked up as her sensors detected incoming hostiles. She'd stand her ground as the other Mandalorians taking up defensive positions activated their personal shields to cover them, blasters raised at the end of the corridor. It would not be long before the enemy made their presence known. Unfortunately for Lark , Careena, as well as all of her warriors, were equipped with Yossubi Gas cartridges, giving them innate Force Null bubbles similar to that produced by Ysalamir, rendering their attempt to steal away their slicer's tools away from him. It was only natural that they came prepared to combat potential Force Users.​

​

The moment that the enemy made their presence known, Careena raised her blasters up, taking up a position to shield the slicer as she fired off a pair of shots, discouraging the enemy from peaking the corner. Careena spoke over encrypted comms, <<" How long do you need? ">> The slicer would look over his shoulder, continuing his work, <<" With the protocols we've gotten from the New Imperials, it shouldn't be much longer. I need thirty seconds at least. ">> Thirty seconds - nearly an eternity in combat, but Careena and her Mandalorian companions thrived in such conditions. They would hold their ground and prove to the Sith Empire that the Mandalorians were not to be trifled with.​

​

​

 

[LT-137]

Location: HIMS Baleful; Engineering Deck
Primary Objective: Headhunt Sith Command Staff.
Secondary Objective: Sabotage the HIMS Baleful.
Allies: Thyrsian Sun Guard, New Imperial Order.
Enemies: The Sith Empire.
Equipment: See the Link in the Signature. Note: No Primary Weapon(s.)
Complement: One Aiglos Spearship, One Cohort of Sun Guard (~ Four Phalanxes of Five.) - Background NPC's.

​

To say that Khonsu was imbalanced, was an understatement. The man had spent countless weeks away from the battlefront, shackled instead to the cutthroat realm of politics and intergalactic affairs. It was the one thing that the man never imagined, nor truly wished to be a part of such an indifferent world. More often than not, a warrior who consigns themselves to such a fate - becomes weak, and soft. It was the very thing that he spent a lifetime fighting against, as the Sun Guard who ruled before him - were decrepit and corrupt. They sold away their warrior souls to buy wreaths, and thrones of gold. They led the Sun Guard away from Thyrsus in the twinned wake of their exile and their defeat, seeking only to fade away as they rested on unearned laurels. They grew fat and grew old - all in the name of politics. They were cowards and fools. Their fates, no matter how richly earned, were well-deserved.

In a similar vein, Khonsu was starting to feel the very same weakness seep into his bones. It was part of the reason why he elected to accompany his subordinates into battle. He sought to reignite his youth's passion, despite the tendrils of complacency that slithered through his veins. And for a moment? He felt those smouldering embers catch their second wind. The sudden rush of adrenaline, blending with an injection of combat stimulants, creating a cocktail of vitality that surged through one's circulatory system. Mix that euphoric sensation with the whirlwind of violence and chance? It was enough to unbalance anyone. Sure, the Sun Guard trained for situations like this. It was drilled into them from a very early age, or during their probationary year. However, the relentless advance of time and age changes how one's body remembers. Khonsu spent too long trusting in his mind, which deadened his mimetic connection to his physique.

He spent several moments after dismissing the Stellar Legionnaire reflecting on his actions. While the youthful mind believed him to be an artist, who's blades were akin to brushes and the battlefield was his canvas - all Khonsu saw was the imperfection of his technique. For better or worse, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, the Thyrsian Warlord was getting rusty. He needed to stop rattling his sabre, and get back into the mix of things. It was the only way, as his muscles remembered their strength - he just had to convince his worried, and addled mind that it was strong.

When his breathing slowed, and the semblance of balance was restored, Khonsu found himself standing amongst a room of corpses. His twinned glaive fell silent as the Warrior removed his thumbs from the activation triggers, mag-locking them to the small of his back thereafter to free up the use of his hands. There was little need to expend their lethality as their master struggled with his own mortality. "Lord Amon," said Dante, the voice of his armour's artificial intelligence. The Construct had been silent until now, choosing instead to focus his attentions elsewhere whilst the Supreme Sun Guardian chased after his youth and slaughtered those who stood in his path. "I need you to return to the battle. I've taken the liberty of directing the Phalanxes in your stead and collecting the information they've accrued. Our partial schematic has grown, and I've been able to piece together a larger image of the ship's internal blueprint." Khonsu's eyes narrowed, as the hulking Warrior stalked towards the door.

"That's good. What's the fastest way to the engineering deck?"

Dante paused.​

"Dante." ​

"Right, my apologies, Lord Amon. I was checking your suit's high-frequency sonar mapper to ensure a minimal margin of error. If you follow Legionnaire Pirran's positional marker - you'll come to a junction that'll lead you directly towards the primary access hatch, leading you into the engineering compartments, and likely the power conduits thereafter." Khonsu nodded, knowing full well that Dante couldn't truly see the gesture of acknowledgement. Rather, the Construct would likely register the directional change in the man's visor and be forced to interpret the gesture - something that took valuable time away from acting as a secondary overseer to the Sun Guard's combat insertion.

Organics, the synthetic intelligence would say to itself, before adopting a less active stance within the Warrior's mind.​

As Khonsu's mind stilled, his armoured feet carried him forward. The pneumatics and electro-reactive fibres of his powersuit tensed as they were flooded with electro-kinetic vitality, pushing him to rush faster than a common soldier. He dashed through the corridor and leapt down the stairs - using the retaining wall as a springboard to catapult him down to the passageway beneath. With a hand, in tune with his leonine haunches, pushing his armoured bulk off the floor - now cracked beneath the force thrown against it - Khonsu took a running start to right himself. It wasn't long after that the Supreme Sun Guardian caught up with the Stellar Legionnaire, at least enough to hear his nature be laid bare for all to see. Pirran was cocky, much like Khonsu himself was in his youth. It was equal parts dangerous and commendable, as my engagements these days transpired from afar - where the opposition never truly got to see the faces of their killers.

So, when the Sun Guard charged - there weren't many whose resolve wouldn't be tested. However, the inverse was true as well, for charging recklessly into the fray would see one torn apart by a deadly ambush. One that couldn't be seen. Everyone expected the sword, but never the dagger in the dark.

Shaking the disappointment from his mind, Khonsu activated his neural stabilization mask and felt his teeth itch - as steady micro-pulses cascaded through his brain. There was a moment that the Warlord thought he smelled burnt toast or tasted copper, but such were the side effects of activation. He was just so used to the sensation that after a period of neglect, it felt wrong - in many ways - to plunge back into something so wholly familiar. However, such thoughts drifted into the back of his mind as he reached his subordinate's position. Once there, Khonsu saw two figures of note - with the latter armed with a pair of ignited crimson sabres situated before his person. A telepath, the Warlord thought to himself. That wasn't good.

Khonsu's hands swept down towards his thighs and snatched at his twinned pistols by conditioned reflex alone. Feeling their all-too-familiar weight betwixt his fingers, the Sun Guard's mind managed to shake off another portion of rust and catch up to his hands. With a thought, the mag-locks were released, and the twinned pistols snapped up. His integrated mobility shield flashed to life moments later - bathing the Warrior in the nigh-invisible and protective graces of the Xythan barrier. The false-firelight of his visor automatically registered the change in armament and added defensive measures, before providing a wealth of targeting data for the Warrior to utilize - if the man so wished. The visor also calculated the trajectory his weapons would unleash their payloads should he depress their twinned triggers, and at that moment - the projected path was blocked by the charging Thyrsian bull.

He couldn't get a shot. He had to keep moving to find a clear path. He found one a scant moment later, just moments before the two opposing forces came within weapon's reach of one another.

Khonsu tilted his chest to the side and brought his weapons together to stabilize them. When the Legionnaire expectedly lifted his glaive to strike - the Thyrsian Warlord pulled his twinned triggers. His first pistol was a relic from a bygone age; One that still operated on chemical propellant catalysts to propel their acidic slugs towards their intended destination. The other was an exotic rarity, never seen outside the ranks and file of the Thyrsian Sun Guard. It was a solarized disruptor, a weapon that made a mockery of conventional deflector shielding - but was curiously still affected by the mysteries woven into the technological wonders of a lightsabre. While twinned instruments of death and destruction were discharged within nanoseconds of one another, the solar-infused plasmatic bolt was the first to streak through the air towards the solitary Sith Lord.

The bolt sought to strike the man between the floating crimson blades with the intent of consigning the man to a gruesome fate - as his atomic bonds deflagrated as he disintegrated - or to force his weapons into action. Should the latter occur - that would give the Legionnaire an opening. The acidic slug was slower than it's plasmatic kin, but it's intent was all the most insidious. Within the glasteel-coated round, was a small vial of xenoboric acid, one of the most corrosive substances known to organics. The amount contained within a single slug was usually enough to drop even the most battle-hardened warriors to their knees, screaming in agony as the substance ate at their armour and flesh beneath. What made the xenoboric acid even more deadly than some of its kin was that it held a similar corrosive margin in multiple states. If the blade and the slug connected, it was likely the vapour would be enough to throw the Sith warrior onto the backfoot. Should the Sithwish to survive this ordeal - Khonsu sought to put the man on the defensive whilst the Stellar Legionnaire advanced.

In many ways, the Warlord's way of seeking to end this skirmish as quickly as possible, so that they may proceed into the engineering deck, and carry on with their contracted work. If they managed to force the Sith Lord to retreat or perish at this point? Well, that would be nothing more than additional credits attached to his organization's invoice.​

| Théodoro |
| Ingrid L'lerim | AMCO | Kiber Dorn |
​

Spoiler: Summary Of Actions:

• Khonsu comes to grip with his Mortality.​
• Dante, Khonsu's on-board AI snaps him back to reality.​
• Khonsu dashes, and wall-jumps to the floor below.​
• Khonsu enters the battle scene; seeing Kiber Dorn and Adrian - with two floating sabres (Ingrid.)​
• Khonsu equips his Sidearms and takes a shot through Théodoro's "sphere of defence" to either kill Adrian, or put him on the backfoot (Unknowingly attacking Ingrid.)
  

  • Weapons Used (For Easy Reference): Solar Disruptor Pistol / Slugthrower with Xenoboric Slugs.​

 

[Vaeri]

Interacting with: Vora Kaar Darth Vinaze
Location: Cassel point-- random hall idk point to somewhere on a map

Spoiler: Peeps I'm responding to

]

Location: Cassel Point
Allies: NIO // Vora Kaar
Enemies: TSE // Vaeri ​

"Though shall not suffer a Sith"

Derleth knew those words could not mean anything good. They could only mean that this Jedi was forsaking her chance to live. Before he could register just what was going on, long before he could formulate a surprised answer, he was shook as the hilt of the Jedi's lightsaber came forward with a sudden movement. It struck him directly in the forehead, his black robes billowing as he quickly fell backwards to the floor. His sword dropped from his hand to the right of him. It was too heavy for him to do anything with it from this position, so he instead opted to kick at the woman with his thick black boot. She was fast, and she had caught him off guard. He knew Vora was a powerful Sith. Powerful enough to crush this Jedi girl, but a firm kick at her ankle from Derleth would certainly help. He just hoped she wasn't nimble enough to avoid it...

<// LOCATION - Castle Point, Internal Halls //>
<// FOCUS - Lirka Ka / Kalanda Tishire / Darth Vinaze / Vaeri / Amur //>
<// EQUIPMENT - Saber / Helmet / Companion //>

To say that Derleth wanted to be quite peaceful with this interaction, was rather warming of him. However, Kaar could feel the rising emotions, the flaring anger and hatred from this Jedi. The Sith Lord knew what was going to go down. Without a single doubt in their mind. While you would think, that as a Jedi stood before them, their years of training to perform what was called "Form Zero" where upon they would not attack, and attempt to solve the "Fight" without a saber, to restrain themselves, The Jedi attacked as others showed up.

It took only a moment to throw up a telekinetic shield with a hand in the direction of Kaars ally, Derleth. In the moment this Jedi took to cross over towards Vora, The lord uttered clear words for his ally.

"I got her."

Sweet and to the point. Firstly, Since she was targeting him as a second strike, It would be easier for the Lord of Strength to hold her. Second, Her emotions, her raw ferocity with the double blades were flung at the stature presented before her. The upper cut strike directed towards the entirety of the Lord's helm, was met with his own blade.

Activated as the words thrown at Derleth, The crimson cross-guard Styled weapon erupted into a deep guttural hum. Energy crackling away from the blade as though too much power was being forced into the plasma weapon. Djem-So kicked in hard to redirect her blade off to the side. The sudden movements were noticed, however, it was easier said than done. Her blue blade traced up the Sphere's Arm. Barely slicing through the robe like material and burning the skin underneath.

Pain.

Powerful and inducing of the Dark side of the force. Easily it was channeled into this figure. As was the sudden surge of power from the crystal housed within the saber. No hiss or groans of pain. No. Instead, through the metallic sounds of the mask, came laughter that seemed to grow deeper with a step within the Jedi's Lightsaber. Pushing within the reach of the double blade, would make it much more difficult for her to turn it around without backing up, or would require a new stance. That is, unless the woman suddenly didn't have a a chopping hand aimed to strike at the nape of her neck.

A very vulnerable pressure point. Easily causing more pain of the victim, and if hit hard enough, could send shocks of pain up the entirety of her arm.

"So easy you are to read Jedi. Your rage and hatred of us was all too telling."

Utilizing more of the force, The metallic voice suddenly sounded deeper than what it had before. A tone that which ebbed and flowed within the force. A slight, a ploy, a jab at her mental facilities to push the right buttons of the Jedi. An attempt to make her angrier at how easily she could be bested well within the first few seconds of a fight.

The only solution for a sith was death. Vaeri had learned that lesson years ago, she would not make a repeat of it with the strangers before her.

The sword of Darth Vinaze clattered to the ground behind her, allowing her to write him off and focus on Vora Kaar standing before her. The moment their blades locked, she gave up the ground and disengaged. Locking down on a power struggle was a poor move when you were one against three.

His laughter didn't reach her, her saber withdrawing even as he sacrificed a burn to direct her blade to the side. She moved like water, her expression growing more passive as she withdrew from his attempt to chop at her neck.

You cannot take the sith empire head on, Vaeri.

Use your brain, for force sakes, think like a snake!

Those final words of a lost cause echoed through her as she withdrew. They always did in times like this. Her posture straighten as she met the sith's gaze, an attempt to evaluate him being made. Vaeri stood impassive, her expression cool spare the bouts of fury that escaped from her. He thought she was easy to read. It was what she didn't show that was worth telling. His mental probe was met with stillness, the woman making an effort to contained herself for just a moment.

The moment didn't last a heart beat, an icey mental attack of her own lashed out with no warning.

Like a snake.

He taunted her. She responded with sudden lunged, her body twirling in a large loop as she brought her extended saber down in an arc over his head. The attack was more than broadcasted, but two more slashes from both ends of the saber quickly followed, unrelenting.

"Put up or shut up." She went to punctuate this with a final, more serious jab right at his gut, but something crashed into her ankle.

The woman fell to one knee, a gasp of pain pulling from her as she raised her saber in a preemptive block. Her eyes locked on Darth Vinaze , riddled with shock.

"..." A telekinetic blast shot off her, meant to shove him back into the wall. Hopefully to disable him, but at the very least grant her space.

She moved to stand, her saber still held on guard.

 

[Spencer Varanin]

//: The Seventh Seal //:
//: Borosk //:
//: Jak spelar tik matt //:
//: Taeli Raaf //:

​

Spencer leaned back in her seat as she watched the woman react, she fully believed that her sister was a true Jedi, but they both knew there were no such things in this Galaxy. The dark side was too strong to deny, even Spencer herself found herself dipping deeper into its sinful pools of empty promises of power. Arms rested against her chest as she listened and nodded along, agreeing with the Sith woman. Spencer couldn't deny that she loved her son, and it was true, for her appearance now in the New Imperial Order. War and the trivial fight for lands that no one could ever own, she held no interest in. ​

​

A small chuckle escaped the woman's lips as she shrugged at the comment about Corus. "Your other sister Melori was it? She was far too easy of a target - your dear saint of a sister seemed to be more entertaining to watch burn." Seeing the Corellian's move, Spencer let her amber gaze watch the board. Seeing that she had taken the center, Spencer nodded and then waved her hand, making another pawn move forward two spaces on the edge of the board. "The silly thing about Jedi and I'm sure you would quite agree is that they're too trusting. You haven't heard much from Corvus, right? Who knows what shenanigans she could have gotten herself into." ​

​

Spencer left it at that, as she looked around and watched the woman shift the visions to Ashin. The woman was the easiest target for the former Monarch. Her whole life revolved around the woman and her conquest. A small smile spread across her face as she watched her beloved on the void surrounded by her enemies. "Oh, you don't know how many times Ashin and I found ourselves in that situation. Surrounded by the monstrosities of the Empires that she sought to conquer. It's true, Ashin and I have very little friends, and I know my involvement in the Imperial Order is just because of my reputation. Such a pity, I do throw quite elegant parties and own some really gorgeous dresses." ​

​

Ashin was her weakness, and as much as she fought to keep her composure, her heart lied. She missed the warmth of the woman, her kind words, and the love that they shared. The only alleviating thing in this matter was that Spencer knew the woman's fate and where she was in the universe. Knowing that truth steeled the woman's heart as she leaned back once more in her seat. Taeli shifted once more, showing her failures as the chosen one. Spencer's face changed; it was no longer pleasant and enjoying the conjured tea. A shadow cast upon her face as she laughed in an almost inhuman way. ​

​

"Do you think I ever wanted to be this Chosen One?" Her words were sharp, giving the Lady of Secrets the evidence that she had gotten under the Echani's skin. The images that were being controlled by the other Master of illusions twisted, revealing the truth of the Echani girl. No one truly knew her story, no one knew how she was plucked and chosen by Ashin to be a weapon for the Empire. Unfortunately for Ashin, she felt for the girl who foolishly fell in love with her captor and Master. "I wanted to be a Jedi. I wanted to help people in this Galaxy, but all they wanted me to be was a weapon, Taeli Raaf. And that's what you desire as well - a WEAPON." ​

​

To every man is given the key to the gates of heaven; the same key opens the gates of hell.​

The stone chess board exploded in between them, and the void around them exploded into flames. Dreadful faces of the Netherworld appeared, dark lords of old, twisted faces of Jedi who had become entrapped by the Phobis device, faces of people the Sith Woman knew. Screams of horror echoed as Spencer's body twisted and became engulfed by flames. Her face twisted into the image of the woman's sisters and her lover, burning in the Netherworld's eternal fire. As the world around them burned in fire and brimstone, Spencer appeared behind the woman. "You wanted to see the Phobis Device?" ​

"Welcome Taeli Raaf, to where nightmares are born" ​

The world began to shake, the ground cracking as Spencer's hands twisted, changing the world around them. She was in complete control of the Phobis Device, the superweapon that she had sacrificed her own mind to absorb to save the entire battlefield. Having given everything to save those lives, she cursed them and cursed their prophecy of the Chosen One. ​

​

Through the cracks of the ground fire and ichor spewed, clawed hands and tentacles emerged threatening to pull at Taeli. Sithspawn and demonic creatures climbed forth from the cracks of Chaos and Spencer; their Queen stood in the center, commanding their every whim. As Taeli was being harassed on the ground, several thick spears of midnight black began to fall from the sky above her.​

 

[Eleanor Lowe]

Location: Borosk, shuttle crash site, 300m southwest of Point Cassel
Allies: TSE - @Nearby
Enemies: NIO - @Nearby | Hypatia Arresh Hypatia Arresh
Objective: Get mad

​

The barrel of the rifle pointed to the empty space, momentarily forgotten as the woman - now clearly a Mandalorian - Stepped out of the cover with a self-assurance that made Eleanor all the more fearful. She seemed to be alone, but that gave Eleanor no comfort. She was covered head-to-toe in armour that Eleanor could only guess was the mythical Mandalorian iron, and she had a mean-looking weapon pointed, almost lazily, up at Eleanor, who was looking down at her is disbelief and fear.

While Eleanor was unable to hide her apprehension, and in her shock had lost the opportunity to get the jump on the warrior, the woman in the armour seemed quite untroubled by the standoff, giving off the air of confidence of someone quite sure they were going to leave on top. She calmly laid out her demands, promising to 'get her out of there.'

Yeah, right! Eleanor thought hotly. And drag her out to be executed or imprisoned by the New Imperials. For the first time, looking at the cool and collected Mandalorian, who by now she had realised was probably a bounty hunter. For a moment she considered offering the woman credits, but she had nothing to offer, and the New Imperials would be big payers anyway. But she couldn't just step aside and let the Mandalorian in either, they'd both be taken away. She had to do something.

The barrel of the gun, moved slowly back to the woman, Eleanor being careful not to jerk it to quickly.

​

"Names have power." She said, her voice quavering slightly. "I won't tell you mine. And stay back. I'll shoot you." Eleanor didn't even know if shooting the woman would do anything. Would her blaster bolt just bounce off? No, probably not. Likely it would cause some damage, but would that be enough to kill, to ensure Eleanor wasn't taken with the Mandalorian? She didn't know. She was wearing only plain clothes and a jacket- a shot from a rifle would be more than enough to kill her.

Eleanor felt a flicker of anger- the first jolt directed at her sister, who remained resolutely unconscious despite having got her into this mess in the first place. Then, a more powerful sensation, a tightness in her chest, and a roiling hatred for the snide Mandalorian woman standing outside, threatening her and her family with the casual calm of a woman just out for a stroll. Eleanor's fingers gripped the rifle, white-knuckled, and she gritted her teeth as the stresses of the crash and the confrontation bubbled and seethed within her, and her emotions, always so carefully bottelled since her childhood outbursts, came pouring out.

Her yellow eyes glowed brighter, the haze outshining the features of the orbs so that they became searing beacons. She felt the heat in the shuttle rising noticeably, and wisps of smoke drifted up from her hair. She shifted her foot, regarding the warrior outside with malice, the sudden surge of anger momentarily surging over her fear and jangled nerves. There was a scorch mark left on the surface below her. Her deep red skin darkened, flush with her heat- dimly, she wondered if her jacket would soon start melting onto her skin.

"Leave me alone." She said firmly, raising the rifle so it pointed down at the Mandalorian's amber visor, feeling a little more sure of herself and what she had to do, and leaning out of the raised rear doors to confront the warrior.

 

[Amur]

Post: 3
Location: Cassel Point
Faction Objective: Obj 1: Eliminate NIO Force holding the facility
Allies: Kalanda Tishire any TSE forces nearby
Enemies: Vora Kaar Darth Vinaze Vaeri NIO Forces nearby
Gear: Listed in Character Bio
Currently: Fighting a few brooding Sith and a Jedi

Well atleast Kalanda was trying… was. Granted the poor woman didn’t have to worry too much about being a warrior up until now. To think Amur saw the witch incinerate a Starweird but yet she didn’t know how to sound intimidating. Still in an environment like this Kala would have to learn quickly, sadly. With the whispered question from the witch though Amur’s mind couldn’t help but think up a lewd answer that was almost certain to embarrass Kala. Though that would have to be saved for later as this cold fight was about to get heated. Instead the Sith would offer a simple ”You’ll learn” instead.

She felt the determined gaze from the Jedi that was eyeing the entire lot of them. There was a ferocity in those eyes as Amur vaguely heard the Jedi’s comment. With it she could feel the air around Kalanda change from it’s overwhelming nervosity into a cold and billowing focus. With it the Sith’s demeanor would change as well. The open and flirtatious attitude of a lover was gone now changing into the steely presence of a predator.

The position they were in was ideal. Situated behind the Sith while they had to face the Jedi to their front creating a situation where they would be surrounded. It also seemed that Amur making their presence known had served as the perfect fuel forcing the Jedi to fight. An immediate threat that would force the two Apostates to have to divide their attention. Amur’s current working strategy would be simple: Aid the Jedi for now and let attrition do it’s work.

The Sith would move now picking her pace up into a light run towards the melee as she saw the beginning waves of the fight commence, readying the force as she prepared her move. Studying the fight, the Apostates were still focused primarily on the Jedi, lovely. When Amur neared 7 feet away she would slow to a halt, her hand was tensed and ready. Upon the beginning of the second wave of strikes from the Jedi to Vora Kaar Amur punch her hand out as she channeled a force push directed at Vora’s legs, she wasn’t aiming to knock the Sith lord off his feet, that would merely complicate the chances of the Jedi’s strikes landing. Instead it was done with the aim of disrupting his balance and concentration at the critical moment he would have to dodge.

Quickly she would reach down and draw her lightsaber, the blade igniting and adding even more red light to bask the hallway in as she eyed the group of 3. Readying to defend against anything that may be thrown her way.

”Any room for one more? The sith teased as her lightsaber waved from Sith to Jedi.

 

[Kalanda Tishire]

Location: Cassel Point
Faction Objective: Obj 1: Eliminate NIO Force holding the facility
Allies: Amur Any TSE forces nearby
Enemies: Vora Kaar Darth Vinaze Vaeri Any NIO Forces nearby
Gear: Listed in Bio and Storm Armor Mk. III
Currently: Backing up Murmur

Well, it went better than the last time at least? Amur didn't snicker when she got done with her threat, so that was an improvement. Amur's response earned the Sith a gleeful nod, as she stepped back to watch the fight, only to find that the jedi were totally ignoring them. Weird. They were still angry at one another, and the fact they were waving lightsabers and swearing to kill one another sorta supported the fact that yes, they were indeed trying to commit murder. But why were they ignoring them? "Um...hello?" She questioned, her voice trailing off when it was realized that their entrance was almost entirely unnoticed. That was a tad rude, especially after they literally introduced themselves. Kala's brow furrowed, her finger slowly set onto the ignition switch of the saber; though she still watched Amur for a go ahead signal.

Kalanda wasn't very practiced in saber combat, if anything she relied on reading peoples auras to determine what they would do next, and then merely dodging until they made a mistake; and that was going to be her same plan here. After all, if she got injured it would distract Amur, putting both of them at risk.

A bit of lightning danced at her fingertips, but she calmed herself, knowing that hurling a bolt into the fray would make them quite unpopular. She did a double take, and had to assume that one of these people was a bad sith, and the others were jedi; at least that's what Kala could work out, because this apostate stuff frankly confused her. It wouldn't matter though, they would beat both of these miscreants and they could finally take that vacation they had talked about for so long.

When Amur made her move, Kalanda cackled in delight, feeling that rush of adrenaline come back and harder now; maybe she could get used to this. She let Amur lead, knowing that she was the better fighter of the two of them, not to mention she preferred staying away from the glowing death sticks that were flying about. "Make it two. The more the merrier!" Kalanda exclaimed, flicking her green saber on as she would keep her senses aware for any incoming force attacks. She would give Amur support from the back, and be there to whisk her love out if things took a turn for the worst. A thought crossed her mind for only a second before she continued on, but it made her feel a tad uneasy; her mother would be so proud to see her now.

 

[Aerith Krayt]

Location: Cassel Point
Allies: NIO
Enemies: Sith Lirka Ka
Gear: In Bio

It was on like...well, you know. The mech charged towards Aerith, as she lumbered towards the creature, unloading what she could into it, the recoil now tearing what little synthetic flesh she had on her hand now. She could see her axe was still buried into the chest of the droid, and yet it seemed almost invigorated by the damage. Fething fantastic. She tried her best to slow the mech down, but with the recoil of her sidearm, and how fast it was coming, the best she could do was get lucky; and she was fresh out of luck.

She saw the strike coming, it was telegraphed a mile away in her mind, but her body was too damaged, the latency too severe. She leapt to the right, only for her leg to lock up mid leap, stalling her just long enough for the mech to shear off her left side. She felt herself tumbling again, losing sight of the mech, as her momentum carried her forward; though she was now missing most of her left arm and leg, and lost count of how many times she had rolled. She hit hard, felt sharp pain coursing it's way up her back and sides, and felt what was left of her armor shatter and give away.

She landed face first in muck, and gasped as she nearly swallowed it. Sparks flew out of the destroyed prosthetics on her left side, as Aerith could feel her body going into shock as she lost sensation in her left side. She grimaced, twitching in futility, trying to move it before she realized that it was entirely gone. The metal compassing her right arm twitched, clinging to her sidearm, though the vision in her left eye was starting to give. It was hard to keep her eye open now. What was left of her helmet was gone now, as she could feel something cold running down her cheek. She winced, guessing it was her actual blood this time, and upon it trailing to her lips she could confirm it via taste. She used what little energy she had to turn her head to the side, letting the mud cake her organic side, as it's coolness felt....well the closest thing to pleasant she was going to find right now.

She could feel the ground shaking around her, the missiles and blaster fire that was exploding all around. Though she was a tad surprised as she found the sounds begin to fade, as she could only assume she was going into shock. She took comfort in one thing before she passed out; that therminal detonator was somewhere back with that mech, and it was primed to go off. As Lirka would begin to move onward, a rather insidious beeping would soon begin to beep ever so quickly. She smiled, knowing she did her best. Maybe someone would pull her out of here, maybe not. Maybe she'd be unlucky and some punk battlefield janitor would finish her off. She chuckled at the thought as her consciousness left her, this ordeal was nothing but bad luck. She wasn't looking forward to her upgrades.

 

[Orion Darkstar]

Allies: TSE Forces - Lark | AMCO | Ellie Mors | Ingrid L'lerim | Kiber Dorn |
Allied Pets: x3 Warghest
Enemies: NIO Forces - Careena Fett | Avernus | LT-137 | Ra Vizsla | Knight
Intent to write with: Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt

Orion watched as the small indicator on his helmet finally kicked back on. The systems assessed the threat of the Warghest that lingered over him. It seemed a vital scanner still worked. Either luck, or technological durability was on his side. His hand pressed hard onto the steel floor. His torso shifted upward as the Sithspawn drooled from its mouth. The mucus held a tint of red, reminding Orion how deadly it was. The Warghest was truly magnificent, holding its natural properties in tact throughout the process of creation. Too many alchemist added many extra things to get an end result. This was an unfortunate circumstance. To Orion, there were somethings that had to be altered completely like his recent creation the Sciarch. The Warghest wasn't even close to a full on alteration of another species. Instead, from the books he read, the original creator took hold of what made the original beasts so valuable. Often, many Sith would let simple details slip by, forcing formations of a subject to be entirely altered, losing what it once was that inspired the project to begin with. It was depressing, but that's just how many of them worked their darkside magic. Orion cared little for waste, he kept his creations in check, unless a complete overhaul was necessary. It's why he brought the Warghest's with him over others, their instincts remained and ready to lead the massive wolves to victory. The beast place its snout against Orion, nudging him to get to his feet.

The muffled sounds of blaster fire rang on the other side of the blast door, it had locked into place at the last second. This would give him time, well enough to situated himself and his pets. His arm extended outward as he stood, relaying the command to his minions with ease. The wolves spread out, waiting for the intruders to bust through. The mix of sounds slammed into the corridor like a fury of whines. Sporadic sparks began to illuminate the sides of the doors, no doubt an effort from the forces on the other side. Orion grinned, his HUD rectifying the cause. The NIO forces were tearing through the durasteel door, but no saber came it magnifying view from his helmet. The force told him another story, she was there, a sister of the once great Empire he fought so hard to protect.

Why had she done it? Why was her cause worth fighting for? Was she lost...like so many others?

Orion asked internally the questions that puzzled him. He sought after answers his whole life, but many, much like the current: were too profound to answer. It was science that bred him answers, it was his freedom. He could break it down, build it back up and tear it away again. Why couldn't he do this with peoples thoughts? Why couldn't he prevent heretics from constantly rising up out of fear? Was there even a formula to prevent such things?

Orion's eyes shifted back to the bright sparks spitting out toward them. He backed up to give enough space between his pets and the hell that was about to ensue. He wouldn't let up, every inch in a tight hallway mattered. He could feel the pit in his stomach as the final stroke slashed completely through. A squad and the traitor Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt crept in from the human-sized hole. This was it, nothing else around him mattered. His eyes formed a hue of golden orange, the darkside filtering through him. A conduit of pure energy ready to be manipulated and formed by his own desire. Pinpricks of electric heat teased his fingers. As soon as they all came into view, Orion beckoned the internal power. A spectacle of branching out lightning stretched across the space between them, the Warghests let out a howl of encouragement as they watched. The splintered strikes of crimson death ushered forward, ready to decimate all in its wake.
​

Template Made By: Annasari ​

 

[Vora Kaar]

<// LOCATION - Castle Point, Internal Halls //>
<// FOCUS - Kalanda Tishire / Darth Vinaze / Vaeri / Amur //>
<// EQUIPMENT - Saber / Helmet / Companion //>

This Jedi desired much from this fight. Backing up out of the strikes, only to come in for more. Seemingly to use more footwork, dancing and staying out of range from other sabers, but come in quick for strikes with her double blade. It made sense. Why would a double blade stand ground and make it harder to move and function with such a larger weapon. However, the best way to combat a moving foe, is to do the exact opposite.

Standing your ground, Holding it and letting them come to you so that a stalwart defensive measure, would tire them out. OR, wait for a mistake. It took just a mere usage of the force. An invisible hand to anchor Vora to the ground. Keeping him stable with the sudden lunge and strikes aimed for the figure. A lunge is good for closing distance, or for a feint from a swipe. However, it was very weak and and required very little to move the blade off course. Even should the strike be over head.

A simple twirl off to the side, a flick of the wrist as it were, could have one's blade move with just enough speed, to push the rod of plasma away from its course. While the saber's initial strike was sided, more came. The Jedi was clearly capable, and Vora expected much from their religious counterpart. The onslaught of secondary strikes afterwords countered with more defensive measures. Utilizing the crossguard while the blade slid down and smacked into a very short lock just before Derleth came to kick her.

However, the actions of the Sith behind them did not go unnoticed. The ramming force push sent at Vora's stature was clearly meant to be in spite of the combat currently going on. So it was these Sith-Imperials who wished to fight with the Jedi in a war of attrition. Very well. It was only sheer luck that the actions of Planting, or doubling down in the defensive measures against the Jedi, that made the effort of the force be not so drastic. Had Vora attempted to move, it would have been difficult to keep a stance.

Sometimes, Inaction provides a better advantage than action itself.

A rage seemed to slowly begin to palpitate around the Sith Lord. Many of his own allies knew of a rather dangerous habit of the Lord for anger and rage issues. This spiteful action by the Sith, was a mere slight upon Kaar. It was no longer an objective fight, but a personal one. Foregoing the chance to secure the kill on the Jedi, Vora turned his mask to the Sith. Asking for a fight.

The force seemed to swell up within Vora easily and quickly. Turning to face them as they attempted to close the distance The Green and Red sabers of these new two combatants were not was the Lord of None wanted to look forward too. And so, he would unleash his wroth upon them. An explosive wave surged from his form without movement on the Lords part. A hatred, a Rage that could be felt by all within the vicinity. Waves of Hatred came from the darkened frame.

"You didn't say please."

A blur of motion with closing the distance. The crackling saber coming for a very hard downward strike at the closets of Imperial-Sith. Single handed grip upon the weapon. From the blades follow-through, a backhanded swing came from the blade, followed with an upper cut swing from the Vora's right. Another attack coming from the follow through of the upper cut, was the Elbow thrown towards the head, with another back swing from Vora's Left.

Each strike thrown was only met with another step forward into the guard and saber range of this other Sith. This initial onslaught of strikes fueled by a rage that permeated the air with a thick, suffocating hatred towards these Sith who had the gall to intervene.

"You wanted my attention, You have me undivided."

 

[Darth Vinaze]

Location: Cassel Point
Allies: NIO // Vora Kaar
Enemies: TSE // Vaeri // Kalanda Tishire // Amur
​

Derleth could feel the hatred flowing through her. He could see it in the Jedi's eyes when she looked at him in shock. Even from the prone position he was able to toy with her. She did not find it as amusing as the Sith. A shock-wave through the force sent him , still on his back, spinning into a wall. He let out a yell of pain and anger as his body slammed against it. He was done hiding his rage. Apparently the Jedi was as well. Derleth understood the code of her people almost as well as the code of his own. He knew that anger was always the folly of the Jedi. Such a natural emotion they were expected to surpress. Right now there was only emotion. Right now there was only chaos.

He reached out into the force and pulled his sword away from the combatants before pulling himself back up into standing. He gripped his sword tightly in front of him and began to hold his ground, gritting his teeth with a desire to show this misguided girl the power of the Sith.

He was not the only one to will this.

Two more figures, the ones he had sensed arriving, appeared behind them. They jested as they ignited their sabers. Sith Imperials. More enemies, most likely on their way to the command center. Should him and Vora fail now, the Empire would be even closer to taking Borosk. He, and all of the true Sith, needed to see his vision come true. He planted his feet firmly as to not suffer another fall. He was back to back with his ally, who quickly took the opportunity to lash out at the newcomers. Derleth kept his attention on the Jedi.

"It is not too late to submit, Jedi! Channel your hatred towards the invaders!" he gave one last offer to the woman as he raised his sword. He doubted his abilities of persuasion, but he prayed that she would appeal to reason instead of being blinded by her Jedi training. It might have saved her.

 

[Agrippa]

GLADIUS COMPANY, 501ST LEGION
CASSEL POINT, WITHIN THE WALLS
LAST STAND
CALLSIGN: GLADIUS ACTUAL

Irveric Tavlar Waylon Treicolt
Hont Atellies

Кукушка
​

"I am the nearby commander." I replied curtly to the Prefect.

The sound of war rumbled, cackled and groaned around us. Beneath it - just two soldiers with no control over their fates.

Until the Prefect mentioned he was defecting with an entire legion. I think I froze for a minute or so.

Was this a bluff? A trick? We, the Company, were not below such dirty ploys to get our mission done. Why would this guy be any different?

I mused over this piece of information for another minute before I gave the call, "Show me. Give them the order to turn around, take positions on the ramparts and fire on the Sith." There was no chance I was giving a free access to a whole legion into the fortress. That was suicidal. But put them on the front instead of our men?

What else could I do? If this was true, maybe, just maybe, this would not be the Company's last oorah.

Just maybe I'd not carry that shame to the grave.

Maybe.

 

[Hunter Blackburn]

// PROTEIN //
// OBJECTIVE // Cassel Point | The Underground
// ALLIES // NIO
// ENEMIES // TSE | Djorn Bline

Spoiler: Equipment

Infantry Armor
Disruptor Carbine
Thyrisian Battle Oil
Blue Mojo Necklace
Hybrid Pistol
Vibrosword
Disruption device
The Albatross

What is fear? Is it that primal instinct born into every man, woman and child birthed to the galaxy? Perhaps it was nothing more than a mixture of chemicals within the brain to make people feel a certain way? Or perhaps fear didn’t exist at all? That it was just a manifestation of one's own mind. A block meant to hold them back, to limit one's true potential? In the end it didn’t matter what fear was for it didn’t exist within Adrial’s heart. What did exist was a pain, that feeling of neglect, of abandonment, things that ate at ones core and sought to break them down. With this pain came a solution, a way to be free of it. To no longer have to feel that agony that felt as though it had torn him asunder.

Thunder rumbled in Adrial’s mind, a storm forming. In his mind the faces of so many other troops from Mygeeto appeared. Sledge, Vice, Linkz. All soldiers that had served in the name of freedom, of freeing their homes from the Sith Empire. People that had families to return to but would never get to see them again.

The crimson-stained Thyrsian walked down the halls, each step bringing him closer to the end. The signatures in his HUD continued to approach, the monitor also picking up a concentration of highly flammable gas in the area. Meant he’d need to take a new approach. Discarding his disruptor rifle, Adrial continued forward without a second thought. He didn’t want the S-Imps to die quickly. No he wanted them to know how he felt in their final moments. That feeling of seeing your brothers cut down before you, and to be the only ones left alive.

On the marines armor, the gas canisters began to release a dampening aerosol to fill the halls of the tunnel. Without anywhere to go the gas just continued to hover, spreading a fog throughout the halls. As Djorn and his men came closer what they’d see inside it was a dark silhouette.

That dark silhouette which was Adrial moved forward slowly, menacingly. His pace and walk was that of a predator, as calm and calculated as a Nexu. In one hand there was a sword that hummed with life, a chorus of dismemberment. In an instant that stalk turned into a full-on sprint and the specter was upon them, shooting out the cloud his blade down to slice a trooper in half.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective: Next Level
Kurja iw Tsatotrura
Spencer Varanin
​

Taeli patiently waited to see what Spencer's next move would be in their game, although the tension could be felt growing. Their exchange of words, probing for chinks in the armor of the other, was ratcheting up in intensity. The wounds inflicted by her sisters' disappearances were old, still present and hurt, but she had long accepted they were gone. Had it left her with a fear of losing her new family? Indubitably. Losing the girls or Fiolette would arguably be more crushing than losing Corvus, Melori, her parents... yes she could understand how Ashin, judging by Spencer's reaction, was her weakness. In that way, she and Spencer were alike. The board before them was all but forgotten by the Sith Lady as she realized she had pushed correctly.

It was the slow change in Spencer's expression that was Taeli's only warning that she had succeeded in getting under her skin. Not exactly the safest thing, given Spencer's reputation and power, but in terms of their game, the Lady of Secrets had scored a hit on the former Queen. Her eyes followed the mindscape as it started to show bits of Spencer's past as her tone and words grew cold and bitter... hardening. The game was about to change, she just didn't realize how explosively.

The chess board exploded at Spencer's pronouncement, shards flying around and through the mindscape but not touching either woman. The illusions and images, if possible, became more distorted. Spencer's visage became twisted versions of her sisters and Fiolette before settling again into that of the Echani's as she began to unleash the full force of what had truly made the woman so dangerous. The Phobis Device.

The devices, in the ancient past, had required the combined minds and will of six Sith Masters to control. They had earned their title of Dread Masters, unleashing terror upon their Emperor's enemies and then eventually for themselves. Taeli had seen their work first hand, even helping reconstruct their ritual on Asation… the one experiment she still carried regret and wariness for. For one woman to wield one of the Phobis Devices' power... it truly said how powerful Spencer was, but also how damaged the experience probably left her. The Chosen One of the modern era had sacrificed her mind and stability to hold this power, her psyche now unleashed was like shattered glass. Cutting. Jagged.

The ground cracked, claws and tentacles emerging of creatures threating to drag her down into the abyss. The power unleashed on her... her mind was already struggling to separate what was real and what was fantasy. Her fears... a tentacle struck her side, and instead of a physical wound, she was thrown back into a memory...

Two large arms wrapped around her shoulders, pinning her arms to her sides. She couldn't fight back, she couldn't break the strong grip. The Kiffar and his friend were smirking at the boy holding her from behind. Datapads she had bought for her trip to the Core scattered at her feet, forgotten...

"Let me go!" she cried, panic causing her voice to rise. A voice growled in her ear, hot breath tickling the hairs on the back of her neck.

"Not a chance," Kar Jarnik gloated. "You owe me something for all the humiliation I've suffered. You stripped me of my honor, now we will strip you of yours." His friends came forward, hands starting to explore as she struggled fruitlessly against Kar's grip. Her panic, her shame, her terror rose up as her blouse was ripped. Her fear consuming her as Kar whispered what exactly he had planned for her, biting her ear roughly. Hands started to slip further, her pleas for help falling on an empty alleyway, no one nearby to come save her from...

The memory was playing out before her, trying to drown her, trying to strain her reality. She fell to her knee, fighting against the terror unleashed by Spencer, the fear, the pain... another illusionary claw struck her, throwing her back to the ground of their mindscape...

"You're a Sith," her mother hissed, hatred rolling off every syllable from the woman who had raised her. "Our daughter has become a monster..."

"I'm not a monster!" Taeli cried, hands against her head, "I'm still me!"

"I told you this would happen," Melarna Rae growled at her husband, jabbing an accusatory finger at Taeli. "I told you when we got her she was different and would end up a karking Force user, but I never thought we raised her so poorly that she would become one of those genocidal maniacs. You're no longer our little girl!"

"Mom..." Taeli begged, her body sagging in on itself in a ball, her arms moving from her head to wrap around her legs like when she was little and afraid. Tears flowed, obscuring her vision..

"She's not our daughter anymore!"

Those words echoed in her head, stabbing at her heart. Her greatest fear: the loss of love. Brought to the surface by Spencer... the illusions and memories... the scars upon her heart and soul...

"Too much!" she screamed, in time with both her memory of her rejection from her parents and how she felt now. A powerful shockwave of Force energy erupted out from her being, tearing apart the ground and blasting into Spencer's conjured spears of darkness, shredding them as they fell. In the center of the blast, Taeli's purple eyes had turned yellow, tears flowed, but...

"Enough!" she yelled. "I will not go back to that girl!" And using her knowledge from her lessons from Theran Listeners, even though neither she nor Spencer were in the proper mindsets for mnemotherapy, Taeli launched her being into attacking Spencer's psyche, to try and tear that Phobis Device out of her head, to put a stop to the images still trying to overwhelm her in the mindscape.

"We need to talk," Fiolette said...

 

[Jalter Volff]

Location: Borosk Atmosphere
Objective: Cassel Point - Survive
Allies: Arten Jinn Constantine Oliva Waylon Treicolt
Enemies: Moon Seo-Yun
Equipment: TIE/HB Bruiser [Destroyed]
Forces: x6 TIE/HB Bruiser, x2 TIE/OTx Outlander

Jalter stood up and grunted as he walked and limped his way over to the frigate. His heart was pounding as he moved and he felt his injury ripping inside. It was agony. He was getting closer to the frigate, closer to safety. He felt the heat as blaster bolts zipped by his body, the prospect of making it their alive seemed to get more slim by the second. Jalter turned his blaster and blindly fired at the general direction of the Sith hoping he would hit one. "At least the tank is gone." he said to himself as he moved.

Just as he was about to get to the frigate he felt the impact of a blaster bolt in his leg, from the kick of he bolt to the burning sensation. Jalter fell to the floor clutching his leg. He grabbed his holocommunicator as more blaster bolts zipped through the air. "Brawler..ngh... 3-1 to Hawk. I'm hit... I can't walk. Need some help" he said while crawling to the frigate to Constantine Oliva 's frigate. Despite having been shot up and having a high chance of internal bleeding he could only think of his squadron. How many more had been shot down? How many more of his pilots had died?

Bombshell watched as Moon Seo-Yun came out of her loop and closed in on him. He let off a few shots from his laser cannon as she came on her attack run but watched as the words "TARGET LOCK" appeared on his hud. As the concussion missiles flew straight towards him. "Engaging countermeasures" he said to himself, setting off his Jen'dosta System which caught two of the missiles but he was just too late and the other three missiles slammed into his craft. Bombshell felt the entire ship shake and if not for the Bruiser's heavy shielding and armour he would've been good as dead. He pulled hard on the throttle, feeling the ship lose some of its control with sparks showering him in the cockpit. "Got me pretty good but I'm still afloat. Can't take another hit like that." he spoke into squadron comms.

"10-4 Bombshell. Bail out if you need to." He said before turning to pursue Seo-Yun with Hurricane. He felt the G-forces increase as his bomber heaved around. He pushed his thrusters to 100%, relying on gravity to allow him to keep up. "Pushing Ion Drives to the max Hurricane lets take this Sith spit out." he spoke into squadron comms. He felt the bomber shake as it sped up, faster then the recommended speed. Crater boosted his particle shielding in response. Hurricane hadn't been able to keep up with Seo-Yun during her immelmann turn but not flew alongside Crater in pursuit once more, speeding ahead. Crater pulled hard on the trigger, firing off hundreds of shots from his heavy laser cannon while Hurricane fired off two Brilliant Missiles at Seo-yun.

 

[Lark]

​

Allies: TSE Orion Darkstar Ellie Mors
Enemies: Careena Fett (Interacting with) Ra Vizsla Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt
Objective: Play Games

Lark waited a few awkward moments, waiting for the splicing device to soar into view. Instead, only the rhythmic alarms continued to blare. No faint echo of a tool hitting the ground, no desperate yelp as someone chased after it. But nothing happened. For a moment Lark considered turning to the Sith Captain and pretend to confess that he couldn't actually use the Force, and that he had just been waving his hands like a madman. He should've expected them to have some sort of anti-Force defense mechanism, as an orphan he had never played with the Force or anyone who could utilize it, so he never had to counter a device that negated the Force. And at the moment, that orphan who loved games occupied the mind of a Sith Acolyte.

Wait a moment, a different voice thought. That's not true.

She did...

"No!" Lark growled, grasping his head and purging that thought from his mind. Something about even the hint of that memory brought him pain. And now was the time for fun, not for harmful memories. The orphan smiled softly, gazing down the red-lit corridor with amazed eyes. The lights were so pretty, but how could he get down there and find the NIO without getting blasted into pieces?

On Myrkr, you read of the Ysalamir quite frequently. You were never exposed to the Force, but every child within old Mr. Migh's classrooms knew what it was those little lizards did. So, the orphan thought. It looks as though nothing has changed. The rules are the same as they were back then, its just that our toys are far more lethal.

From what the orphan understood of the Ysalamir, they essentially emitted anti-Force bubbles. Perhaps this was the same. The NIO had some device that mimicked what the Ysalamir could do. "In all likelihood, they don't need much more time to slice through that door. They're playing defense right now, if we charge them we'll lose more numbers than they will," Lark thought aloud. "We charge, they kill half of us, we kill a quarter and they get through the door. Not exactly ideal..."

Lark didn't have much time, so he ran a quick experiment. He ensured the Force still worked on his side of the corridor, and indeed it did. The blaster the soldier handed him a moment ago gently floated above his hand. "Excellent," the orphan whispered. He motioned towards another soldier that had a much more rapid-fire weapon than a mere pistol. "I'm borrowing that. The rest of you, prepare to open fire."

Taking the heavy machine gun out of the soldier's hands with the Force, Lark quickly moved the weapon into his side of the corridor and mentally pulled the trigger, unleashing a stream of blaster fire towards the other end of the narrow hallway. Ideally, it would focus fire towards the splicer and suppress returning fire, allowing his own troops an advantage. Once the stream of Lark's own blaster fire rained through the hall, he'd give the order for the other Sith to follow suit, behind their own cover.

Only a handful survived your games over a decade ago, the orphan thought. Let's see how they do.

 

[Ellie Mors]

​

Location: HIMS Baneful
Objective: Make it planetside
Allies: The Sith Empire | Orion Darkstar AMCO Ingrid L'lerim Lark Karina Lowe Kiber Dorn Darth Prazutis
Enemies: New Imperial Order | Avernus Careena Fett Ra Vizsla Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt LT-137 Théodoro Atlas Kane
Equipment: Amphistaffs, Tsaisi, Saberstaff
Theme: Villain

Every step she took back, every dip and every flick of her wrist, were all guided by an unprecedented fluidity. The vongformed Sith Lord had questioned her identity ever since her physical rebirth - whether she was still the Braith Achlys that had crumbled to dust on the blade of a Jedi, if she was the destroyer in the pantheon of the Primeval as she had been regaled, or if she had become and truly was the Sith lady of Castigation dubbed as Darth Alekto; but it was through this plan that she would realize who she was. Letting go of the attachments she had to such petty things as names, as faces, the monstrous woman was able to direct even her reason for being to a singular purpose - to create a legacy.

As her other adversary, the man with the cautious blade, pursued her into the ship's bridge it became clear that her intention had always been to draw those that had boarded the vessel towards its center of command. The blades of her lightsaber shut off as the amphistaff wrapped around her right arm made its way to her wrist and then coiled itself around the hilt of her saber and extended the length of its body out like a whip while its head and what was necessary to tether itself to her remained.

"Few have the courage to walk in the shadow of death." She mused aloud as the men and women in uniform, surprised and shocked by her arrival, fell to the ground as she led the man that trailed her to the center of the bridge - still face-to-face in a standoff she allowed to persist only because he had yet to lash out at her, and the moment was not yet right to press the attack. Any fool with competency in the force could feel the essence of life fleeing from the bodies of the crew and into her, those with sight gifted by the force might note the similarities between this and the death of a star system at the maw of a black hole. "But you, you have the courage to chase after it."

Behind her loomed the viewport of the large destroyer, the length of the ship extending out and obscuring the lower portion of the visible surface of the planet they loomed above. It was a view she was unable to enjoy, her gaze locked, as it had been, with that of her foe, but one that the man doubtlessly understood as a view that was far too close for those aboard the vessel to not have deployed to the ground by at least the time of his boarding. She smiled mischievously, flourishing her free hand to gesture towards the scenery behind her. "Beautiful, isn't it? Full of life. Oh, there is death, too, so much of it - Sith and Imperial forces clashing over some castle in the sand.. like children, they are." She said with regards to the planet behind her, her tone almost envious and yet soothingly calm - silky, despite the fracturing sound of her accented voice. Her gaze flickered to the blade of the man's lightsaber, careful not to allow herself to lose sight of the physical threat in front of her.

"Oblivious to the tide as it rolls in," she added with an exaggerated sigh, her left hand lowering down to her side as the other amphistaff maneuvered its way from her chest towards it. Appearing to hesitate, Alekto was in actuality sizing up her opponent to determine the best method of engagement, she held back the words that fought to spill from her scale-covered lips as her grip tightened on the amphistaff in her right hand. "Or the wave that will make their petty squabble moot."

It was then that she struck, left hand rising up, the tail end of the amphistaff slashing in an upward arc loosely - its edge still incredibly deadly - before becoming taut in her grip at the subsequent stiffening of its length to lead into a downward arc as the amphistaff moving down her right arm turned its head to spit its venom at the face of the Sith that had decided to play the part opposite her own. Unlike the initial push of the Yuuzhan Vong War centuries prior, there was little hope for the amphistaff's painful toxin to either hit its mark or do the deed, however she did not care for such petty things as simple victories - and the swift shift in stance, with a sliding of her left forward, pushed "down" the control stick of the destroyer with telekinetic force so sharp it snapped in two.

Down the Baneful began to dip, the view of the planet's surface behind her taking up more and more of the viewport as the angle of the bow of the ship began to shift - it appeared the descent she had in mind was not that which the New Imperial Order had been led to believe. The sudden shift in direction, paired with the snapping of the control stick, triggered the ship's emergency systems - klaxons wailing, red and orange lights at every corridor and across the bridge flashing - as to warn the ship's crew, and all those that remained aboard, to a detected course of collision. The purpose of the alarm was simple - to signal to those aboard to abandon ship.

Still, she remained. Legacy demanded it.

 

[Karina Lowe Legacy]

​

Location: HIMS Baneful, moving to the bridge.
Allies: TSE - AMCO | Ellie Mors | Ingrid L'lerim | Kiber Dorn | Lark | Orion Darkstar
Enemies: NIO - Careena Fett | Avernus | Knight | LT-137 | Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt | Ra Vizsla
Objective: OBJ 2 - Join Ellie Mors on the bridge. Realise the truth.

On occasion, our soldiers will find it is their duty to sacrifice themselves for their empire.
- The Legionnaire's Handbook, Chapter 1
​

The fighting retreat up the corridor proved costly. More stormtroopers poured in from the gutted hangar, joined by those who'd breached the hull on the upper floors, converging on the central corridor network to join the fierce firefight. Karina's soldiers fell in droves, staggering backwards up the twisting, inclined passage under a hail of blaster fire, which they returned with gusto, heavy bolts of crackling, plasmatic energy tearing panelling off of the walls, or shattering plasteel armour.

As many or more of the advancing stormtroopers fell in the storm of fire as did Karina's Legionnaires. But, it seemed that they had sensed their advantage, and they pressed the attack savagely, Karina and her company forced to slow to a crawling pace as they trudged, backwards towards the bridge. They sealed the doors as they went, Karina bending low by the controls and manually overriding the locking mechanism. No sooner had she done so, than the lock clicked again and the heavy blast door sprang open. After a third door once again slid open smoothly, Karina was forced to concede defeat, and merely focused on holding back the tide of advancing boarders.

They were close to the Bridge now. Reluctantly, she had left another squad behind a few dozen metres down the passageway, the soldiers taking cover at the corridor's intersection to hold back the stormtroopers for as long as they could. Anxiously, Karina scanned her HUD. Similar battles were taking place across the ship, near all the vital areas of the vessel, from the engine room to the command centre.

There was nobody coming to turn the tide. At least, not for the moment. The suddenness of the assault, and its vicious execution had left the defenders spread thin and scrambling to reinforce the lines all across the massive star destroyer. Even the Triumvir was dealing with her own opponent in the Bridge. No, Karina and her company would have nobody to help them for the moment. They were running now, twenty Legionnaires remaining, having left the other squad to their fate. Karina thanked them silently in her head for the precious minute they had bought them.

Heavy boots thudded on the metallic floor panels as the Legionnaires raced up the Bridge, panting, desperately tired, and frantic to get to the more defensible location. As they approached, Karina felt something thrumming beneath her feet. The ship's engines had been engaged fully. She imagined it turning and pulling back towards the safety of the fleet, and felt a small bit of comfort. The boarding couldn't last forever, the New Imperials would be overwhelmed, they just had to weather the storm.

Finally, they reached the Bridge, Karina punching in the code to the door and leaving the majority of her soldiers on the other side before slipping in. The room was strangely deserted - only the Triumvir and her opponent, and a couple of grim-faced officers in the trenches - Her Legionnaires raised their rifles, but Karina held up a hand, murmuring for them to "hold fire." She knew better than to interfere with the Triumvir's fight.

"Legate Lowe?" One of the soldiers asked, his voice quavering slightly. "What is going on?"

Karina opened her mouth to answer the man, but then she saw what he was talking about. Behind Alekto, behind the New Imperial intruder, the surface of Borosk was looming large. The ship was speeding towards the surface, nose pointed down, the engines on full power, and nobody on the bridge was lifting a finger.

"We need to get out of here!" The same soldier whispered hotly. Karina dragged her gaze off the viewport to look at him.

"And go where?" She asked. They were already surrounded. She'd already realised there was nothing they could do. The New Imperials were blocking the corridor further down, and that was their only route to escape. They could try to break through, but she knew it'd be suicide. Besides, Karina was beginning to understand what was happening. Her hands shook a little and she gritted her teeth to steel her nerves. When she spoke again her voice was hollow.

"Keep your eyes on the Sith, and shoot him if he breaks away. We will keep the New Imperials from storming the bridge and defend the Triumvir."

Karina swallowed, and could not resist taking another look out the viewport, at the surface of Borosk growing larger and larger.