Invasion No Quarter | NIO Invasion of TSE held Dantooine

[Cotan Sar'andor]

​

Location: Enclave
Allies: NIO | NJO
Frenemies: SJC | Starlin Rand
Enemies: TSE | CIS

Before Cotan had an opportunity to reply to the kid's snarky, but ill-formed reply, somebody else came running in. He stepped forward to try and stop them from attacking, but standing back from Starlin as he was, the two Padawans met first; he sighed as the one that came running in fell to the ground, dying almost instantly from the wound they had sustained. "Not exactly your first rodeo, right?" he grumbled. "That explains the amazing blade control."

As much as nothing in the bag was a holocron or anything completely radiating the Dark Side on its own, it couldn't be denied that having spent years in a center of Sith learning, surrounded by Sith and the Dark Side constantly, had left its mark on the contents. "Listen, kid, these things shouldn't go to third parties at all," he said, stepping forwards. "And if any other Jedi want to try and actually destroy these things, I'll beat them back myself before cataloguing them into the archives on the Prosperity. The knowledge contained in any archives from any Force-using orders is dangerous when it gets spread freely through the galaxy. Why do you think we're all so exclusive, rather than just spreading our teachings freely over the holonet?"

He held out his free hand, ready to activate the lightsaber he held in the other if the Padawan tried to attack him.

"The bag. Now. Before you go and paint targets for angry Sith on the backs of yourself and some poor collector out in the galaxy."

 

[Aurelion Nova]

Aurelion's Lightsaber || Aurelion's Sith Armor


As Darth Prazutis responded Aurelion simply nodded, he was not at all surprised by the Dark Lord's willingness to meet the threat the enemies brought to him. Not at all. Instead Aurelion only worried about his own willingness, his own ability, to confront those who simply see him as a faceless grunt. A tool of oppression and hatred, as uncaring for who he was or what he had survived as some great creature about to devour him whole. His hands tightened and his throat constricted as he thought maybe.... maybe that was one of the things that made war so terrifying? The unnatural marriage of uncaring, soulless rejection of another' sentience overtaking what the Jedi would teach as the natural sympathy, care and kindness those in the galaxy were meant to show one-another.

Nonetheless Aurelion could feel the raw passion behind the Dark Lord's words as he instructed him to achieve victory by any means. To do whatever it takes to overcome the challenges set before you and snatch life and power from the jaws of death and stagnation. It reminded him of Juno in a way, only much more aggressive, and Aurelion could not see the same hesitant compassion in the Dark Lord that he saw in his old Master. He.... He missed her. Truly, deeply, missed her. The sudden thought stabbing like a lance of ice through his heart and Aurelion's throat seized up before he nodded stiffly at Prazutis' command. Drawing in a shaking breathe as he looked down, gazing into the dark depths of the helmet he was meant to don, before raising it up and sliding it over his head.

The first thing he noticed was the snap-hiss of the suit's seal closing around him and how loud his breathing became. Filling his own ears and almost distracting him as he had to remind himself he was not panting, merely breathing, as the cold, familiar darkness of the armor settled around him like the embrace of a cold, wet, yet gentle and caring corpse. The Dark Side had shown him favor, at least that was the only reasoning he could infer behind it's seeming acceptance of him. But why? He did not have time to think, or rather, did not allow himself to think further as he walked away from Prazutis. The armor-weave cape billowing behind him with each step, and as Aurelion saw the approaching form of Ulrich his entire body lurched and thrummed with energy as Prazutis began to call to.... something. Something beyond. His pulse quickened and his hands, even with their gloves, clammed at the sensation.

Aurelion was only vaguely aware of the familiar form of Redd approaching alongside Gerwald Lechner and Lavria Xedrim and his heart squeezed as he could feel Gerwald's hostility toward Prazutis, Redd's confusion and the unknown woman, Lavria, all but chomping at an unseen bit to attack the Dark Lord. But most of all, he felt the fear, not just from Gerwald but from the rift that Prazutis was tearing in reality. From whatever answered him beyond and Aurelion's masked visage met that of Ulrich with what appeared to be apathy, but was in fact an earnest desire to be as far away from whatever Prazutis was doing as possible. Unlike Prazutis, or Gerwald, or others nearby Aurelion did not radiate power or purpose to Ulrich, he was no grand, larger than life presence or a Lord of Sith or Wolves. No. He was simply a child with too much power for his age, too little wisdom on how to use it, and too weak a heart to murder in cold blood.

As Aurelion came to a stop before Ulrich, the small Apprentice gazing up at the dragon with an unreadable expression, he finally reached out to commune with Ulrich's mind after a short pause. "We should.... leave." Aurelion murmured. The touch to Ulrich's mind would, perhaps, reveal a bit to the dragon just what the Dark Lord saw in Aurelion. What Ulrich made of it himself, however, was for him to decide. Aurelion's presence in the Force was massive, weight, and above all else nearly broken. Like a tremendous crystal tower fissured with cracks along nearly every inch. A mirror, shattered beyond recognition of any reflection, held together by seemingly nothing from within. Rather the tower was now engulfed in a tar-like substance that clung to it's wounds, sealing them, providing adhesive to the Apprentice's tenuous connection to the Force. A gentle, cold darkness radiating from this substance as Aurelion began to walk past Urlich into Garang city. The two halves of his Lightsaber on his hips as he set about nervously fingering one of them, before deciding it would be wise to at least have the blade ready, and so he ignited the amethyst blade. Only one, for now, and held it passively at his side.

Traveling with Ulrich would make stealth all but impossible but Aurelion did not know where to go nor was he too keen on the idea of facing someone he would have to kill. Though thinking on this only made Prazutis' command echo in his mind, and he sighed, before he heard the sounds... crying? Turning down a street that was, thankfully, wide enough for Ulrich to fit down Aurelion found himself staring into a building half-collapsed from the conflict. Rubble sealing it's entrance tight and with a numb, detached effort did Aurelion lean into the cold embrace of the Dark Side, and telekinetically grip the rubble before pulling it over. Dust was kicked up in a hazed cloud as the doorway was cleared and, stepping inside, Aurelion found a woman and infant huddled together in the building. Dirty, afraid, alone and Aurelion paused in the light of his amethyst saber. She clearly could not tell which side he belonged to, and rather than dwell on specifics, he would step aside to reveal the entryway to her. "You should get somewhere safe." The woman, eyes wide and blinking slowly, would begin to stagger toward the doorway before Aurelion also murmured "Oh and.... and don't mind the dragon. I don't think he'll hurt you."

Allies: Darth Prazutis Ulrich

Enemies: OPEN?​

 

[Creuat]

K N I G H T
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
JEDI-IMPERIAL JOINT STRIKE TEAM

H I T _ T H E _ L I G H T S​

With effort and and coordination, much of the cavalry of Sith speeders was decimated; its member killed in some manner or injured which prevented them from fighting. The strike team no longer had to worry their flanks being harassed and were able to concentrate on moving forward, closing the distance between them and the gates of Darkness that awaited for them. The very evil that would be blinded by the light in which it cowered from. Only cowards retreated to the Darkside, tempted by power that afflicted those that were below it. Despite the absolutes of the Darkside, it would never gain equal footing to the incorruptible disciples dedicated to the goodwill of the Force.

Something to testify when Rhis and his Jedi brethren, rallied by the Sword of the Jedi, conjoined in raising a wall to give the King a moment to focus his powers; holy fire manifested from Enlil and was blasted out towards the wall of the temple, in its path consuming agents and pawns of the Dark. Poetic to Rhis’ taste when the fires punched a hole in the temple’s wall,debris of tainted stone leaving an opening for the Jedi and Imperial Knights. The dark aura within whispered to them, its influence could be felt by their senses. The cold, the hate, the anger made its attempt to compromise the morale of the Light that challenged it.

“Let our courage burn the damnations of these fiends!”

The Nautolan Jedi charged towards the hole, the emerald blade of his lightsaber ignited. Whatever monstrosities that lurked within these halls would be sought for and exposed by the Light. He would see that these pillars erected by the Sith would crash down and allow the dawn of Light to reign over these tormented grounds.

Seek and vanquish.


ALLIES | NIO | NJO | Ryv | Loske Treicolt | Shaka Sunstar | Rurik Fel | Oceiros Sunstrider | Cotan Sar'andor | Enlil | Zaavik Dagoth | Dorian Sicarrio | Jin Kyrel | Kalika Vaar | Mishel Kryze | Hans Rennagen | Maynard Treicolt
ENEMIES | TSE | THE ELDER COMPACT | Ingrid L'lerim (ENGAGING) | Thurion Heavenshield | Carnifex | Darth Vulcanus | Adron Malvern | Arctus Silmar | Xobos Yakieer | Ruek Tast | Freyu Molidias |

 

[Amea Virou]

AMCO // Runi Verin

It was a learning experience all around. On one hand just exactly how in-shape Amea was, and for the other how to handle what some would call the ‘paranormal.’ While spectres and ghosts were all fine and dandy, if Runi said you ran there was little to do but to do just that. The advice was duly noted and Amea kept up behind her friend. They took a turn into a smaller chamber, red muzzleflashes lighting up the dark with a haunting noise that had seen the end of many more. Except these soldiers had gotten far more than they asked for.

The sounds they made as they screamed for death rang through Amea’s mind with a horrid echo. A pang of guilt caused her nerves to spike with pain as a moment of cold sweats forced her back into reality again.

Don’t karking overthink it.

There was safety for the moment, as relative as the phrase grew by the minute. All it had taken was an unknowing, unwilling sacrifice. The duo dodged out of reach from their former pursuers and let themselves breathe for a moment. Amea let in a deep breath and let out a long sigh of relief. “Yeah, we’re good. No way in hell I’d let them touch me.” She spoke under her breath and followed along. “What’s a few more nights without sleep anyway?”

Don’t karking overthink it.

There was no mistaking the lingering guilt, and in truth it terrified Amea. Not because she felt bad for having let those men die but because it was to break a promise she had made to someone else. The whole battlefield could have dropped dead for all she cared, but at least it wouldn’t have been an active choice on Amea’s own behalf. This was...

Don’t karking overthink it.

“You know him?” Amea seemed surprised as Runi came to a stop, spoke to the man before them with some measure of familiarity. His name struck a chord, one that made Amea recoil for a second as she glanced between her friend and the man. “Doesn’t matter,”

Don’t karking overthink it.

“Just get out of the damn way, won’t you?” Amea pulled the slugthrower from its holster, raised it towards the man and pulled the trigger.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch; The Night Queen, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Enclave, Dantooine
Objective: Chase and find AMCO to get him off the planet.
Equipment: Brynja coat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Striith vibrosword | G1 OmniLink || Shield talisman | Taozin amulet | Healing amulet | Empyrean gland
Writing with: Creuat

Another hallway, she didn't feel anything anywhere, still didn't feel the Sith Lord. At one moment, perhaps, yes, as if her lover had been there now, or not long before, but by the time she looked there or tried to reach out to the Force, Adrian was gone. She had acquired so much knowledge lately, but she felt she did not know so much yet. The Force-bond was strong between them, she felt it, and also that the man had no problem, but still, other times it was so easy to find the other end of the bond, but now it was as if it was entangled in infinity. But why?

Would this place have done all this? She hadn't been to Dantooine before, but if it really caused it, she didn't want to come back here anymore. Another corridor, no trace of the Sith Lord, and the guards could not see her. She got to the expiration that led to the basement. Suddenly shivered pleasantly as she felt Adrian's presence for a moment. It was as if she had just received a kiss or caress from her lover.

”Adrian…” she whispered barely audibly, mostly through the Force, she tried to reach AMCO again.

But she didn't feel him in the Force for a fraction of a moment. It was as if she was chasing a ghost and not reality. Maybe it really was just a vision or a dream? Or was Adrian just experimenting again, like on Voss? No, he was here now, she felt him before landing. About the dream…

No, she wasn't so lucky. After the former intuition, she would have walked towards the stairs to continue the research, but then she felt the explosion, saw and heard it. It was here nearby. She would not have thought that the NIO and its allies were so close. Much closer than she thought, because the next moment she spotted a green lightsaber in the dust about ten to fifteen metres away on the other side of the hall, a rather unique nautolan appeared in the hall.

”I see the NIO and GA are still infinitely barbaric and rude mobs. You are unable to use the gates as an entrance.” she said emotionless voice.

​

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

FIELD HOSPITAL
Outskirts of Garang
Wearing: Youngling Robes | Sasori Cracken | HoloLink XJ9
Wielding: Paperweight | Briletto PPK
Good Guys: Auteme | Kenth Ordo | NIO
Bad Guys: Joycelyn Zambrano | Sakadi Marathi Sinvala | TSE

He knew nothing about healing.

Well, almost nothing any way. He was a Jedi Sentinel by training. He'd skipped the Force Heal part and taken just the requisite First Aid and basic medical training required by the Jedi training program of the Old Republic. Once he'd been knighted, there had been a few additional self-care and proper use of a medkit before he'd been able to be certified for field assignment with a padawan.

But that had been a long time ago. By his measure, about four decades. By the calendar, just shy of nine hundred.

Apply a band-aid. Optionally, use some kolto fluid or bacta on the padding of the band-aid. That was about the extent of his healing knowledge. At one point, he'd had to assemble a field splint in a supervised jungle training scenario, but that felt like another lifetime ago.

Shield generators, on the other hand, those he understood quite well.

After all, he wasn't just a Jedi Sentinel, he was an engineer. At least originally. Besides, until the New Imperials lifted the No Fly Zone over Garang air space, the hospital didn't have a means of evacuating patients. So, they'd be here for a bit.

And here was on the doorstep of the damn combat zone. Best to have some ray shielding so that the hospital wasn't wiped off the map by some stray turbolaser.

Not that he would put it past the Sith to target a hospital.

Kneeling against the box-like contraction, the boy was trying to sort out the power generator so that he could get the shield generator primed. The equipment used by the Levantine Sanctum and the Silver Jedi hadn't quite been the same as this Imperial gear however. And it didn't seem like anyone had a manual for the damn thing, so the boy was figuring it out as he went.

Be lovely if the Imperials had given them an engineer for this sort of thing, but he rather imagined that these New Imperials only thought of engineers in the sense of Sappers -- combat engineers and demolitionists.

Connecting the final power coupling, the boy sat back with a sigh. Assuming he hadn't unknowingly reversed the polarity going into the power generator, then they should shortly have an energized shield emitter. As soon as he flipped the switch.

Of course, if he had unknowingly switched the polarity, then this was a bomb about to blow up in his face.

This was precisely why no one wanted Corellian engineers. And Sor-Jan was, perhaps, the worst example of the stereotype.

Taking a break, rather than rushing into his possible violent and explosive demise, the boy rotated his wrist to get a look at the comlink he wore there. No message from that Jedi who had gone into the city. Aura? Aurora? Aught-something-or-other?

Well, whatever her name was, hopefully she wasn't in so deep that she wouldn't think to call for help should she need it. Sor-Jan wasn't necessarily any better at rescues than he was at shield generator set up, but he was at least better at that than he was at playing Doctor Jedi, Force Healer.

Much nope.

Many no thank you.

 

[Sakadi Marathi Sinvala]

​

A moment of tension arose as she stated her terms. The daunting Sith Empress stood silent like a statue, her arm still outstretched to the Sephi. But in those sickly shimmering yellow eyes, the Master saw a hint of understanding. The dark figure had heard her.

Knowing that her words could reach this woman made her want to convey so much more. To scold the Empress for not removing her people from this warzone, and to blame her for all the death and destruction the Sith Empire had caused. But luckily, the Jedi knew self-restraint. This proposed truce was a fragile one at best. Provoking the dark warrior was not in her best-interests at the moment.

“I will not keep them from protecting their homes.”

"Then I will."

Her grip tightened around the carefully constructed hilt that housed the white kyber crystal as she projected her thoughts. "I will ensure their safety once they lay down their arms." That was her decision. She would not stand by and watch these men and women throw their lives away, but neither would she aid them in opposing the forces of the GA and NIO. Retaining her neutrality here was difficult, but could she truly call herself a Jedi if she didn't strive to do so?

Sakadi was the first of the two women to move. She broke away from the Empress's stare, turning to face the barricaded street where many Imperial loyalists prepared to make their stand. She was still cautious and aware of the towering woman behind her, silently hoping that the Sith stayed true to her word and didn't cut her down in this opportunity. Those thoughts would quickly fade from her mind however, when she felt a second presence in the Force.

Her lavender ears perked up once the Jedi caught a glimpse of the other Light-side practitioner. Her uniform, a blueish jumpsuit, gave her affiliation away. Galactic Alliance. Was that... Good? She had heard of several small skirmished breaking out between the Silver Jedi and New Jedi Order, but the Sephi had dismissed those rumors. There was no way that, despite being from a different Order, a Jedi would engage a Jedi in combat... Right?

Sakadi's attention was then drawn to the man in the hoverchair. Surrounded by his grandchildren, each bearing arms to fend off the New Imperial assault. He had fired at the approaching Imperials and reloaded, but the old man's second target was no machine of war. She saw how he shifted in his hover chair, eyes falling on the young woman with thick dark brown hair. The one she counted as her ally.

The Sephi swiftly raised one lavender arm, palm of her hand facing outward with middle and index fingers raised. The Living Force coiled around her fingers as she gestured. It was difficult to influence the mind of someone so focused on his objective. The man in the hover chair was indeed a professional, one she would not be able to convince to put down his weapon through mind trickery alone. But what she could do, was slightly tweak his perspective.

The man muttered a final few words before he aimed and pulled the trigger, unleashing hell in a canister upon the woman without a lightsaber...

But the projectile never struck its intended target.

Instead, the missile blew a hole in the hopefully empty house two buildings to the healer's left, followed by the loud cussing of the old man. Crisis averted... For now...

Garang City | Joycelyn Zambrano | Auteme | Sor-Jan Xantha​

​

 

[AMCO]

Location: Somewhere beneath the Sith Enclave proper.
Objective: Improvised Field Trial Besh-1; harry New Imperial forces.
Equipment: Polyweave Suit, G1 UltraDeluxe, Shield Talisman, Soulstones, Empyrean Gland, [2] Jin'Pins
Writing With: Runi Verin & Amea Virou

His control over his creations, imprinted instructions such as attacking those in New Imperial uniforms and not those in Sith ones notwithstanding, was tenuous at best - made evident by the presences' clever little manoeuvre. No matter, they made their way towards him on their own.

How very convenient. He would have thought it fate itself if he believed in such things.

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here had those mongrels not opted to attack during a summit, of sorts. No matter." Eying the women intently for a moment or two, a glint of recognition flashed through his eyes; a gift for remembering faces sure had its uses. Runi Verin, quite the character, and in the company of, if he was not mistaken, the woman who once attempted to rob his late-traitorous-colleague?

Quality entertainment, that. The late Avernus would likely be quite miffed if he knew where the surveillance had ended up.

"I think I wou-" Perhaps halfway his refusal, the woman pulled a gun on him and fired, the slug bouncing off an invisible barrier raised a mere instant before it would have struck before ricocheting through a Shroud and down the hallway. Raising a single eyebrow, his smile melted away in an instant.

"That was extraordinarily rude." As if to hammer in the point, azure lightning leapt from his fingers, sizzling through the air towards Amea.

 

[Peyton Steele]

There was a lot to unpack here, among the Sith. Peyton had been doing what she could to make sure she keeping an eye on everyone. The Concord may know what they’re doing, but Peyton had been in this war for a while, keeping tabs, watching the comings and goings. Learning who were the players and not. What she was nervous of today was that she was actually behind enemy lines. She knew that Kunn was a crack pilot and could get her out if she could get a signal, but well..

The first things first, duplicate their system, leave the worm, delete that the worm was left and hope that no one detected it. It wasn’t really backstabbing the Sith, it was more duplicitous actions, which really, that was how Peyton worked. She really wished her old team was here, but following the abolition of the OPA, they were all scattered to the winds. Hopefully they could find them. She was hearing rumors that the Concord was about to step away from the pact with the Sith.

Maybe that was why she was doing what she was, but if she could defend the mainframe, at least then her worm would survive. “Operative Steele in position, y’know, with Sith.” She muttered to the Concord Command. It didn’t make her feel good, but where she was, they were not allowing many Concord this deep. What she needed to do was get to the surface and get her rifle.

And that was where she was heading now.

Corso Rook

 

[Xobos Yakieer]

Location: Dantooine, Sith Temple
Equipment: Illyria Knight Armor, Knight Saberstaff, Miralukan Eye Mask
Mental state: Awaken.
Tags: | Kalika Vaar | Shaka Sunstar | Adron Malvern | Freyu Molidias |

They were coming.

Whoever wanted to see this world burn was making their way onto the surface to see that exact task done. She could feel their mass, storming onto the planed wheat fields like a plague of locusts. And when those bugs began to descend onto the temple, she could feel just how much hatred those that came held within their hearts.

The jedi would call it something else. Passion, heart, or some kind of other metaphor to make themselves feel better. Whatever they needed to tell themselves to make them believe this place was not influencing their feelings. Jedi were always so…protective of such things. So pathetic, so foolish, to hold one’s self back just because one could not control their feelings. It was the fear that made them think such ways, which only fed more into idea that they could not control what they felt inside of them.

She could not tell if that was the same to be said about the pair of jedi that were make their way up the steps toward where the trio stood. For a moment, Xobos’ lips curled into the slightest bit of a smile at the sight of another miraluka. It was quite the interesting thing. Almost a mirror image of herself from another time, another line down fate’s path.

Many, many things had to collide for Xobos to find herself standing beside the King at this time. He had to have found her on Roon while she had to chose to go with him. Surviving his training wasn’t a given. Getting through Taanab, Atrisia and other battles weren’t givens either. So, so many different paths and choices in life that could’ve turned out differently. And here she was, a sith Knight, standing across from what she could only assume to be a jedi knight, who must’ve had just as many choices to get to where she stood.

Oh, how the galaxy was such an interesting place. And, more than likely…one of their stories ended today.

The order came from her master just as he leaped forward toward the second jedi, and the sudden speed of a speeder whipping past her caught her attention for the slightest second. Freyu would be able to take care of herself quite easily. There wasn’t any reason for her mind to linger on the hulking woman to her left, but instead on the dualist that remained a few steps below her.

One gloved hand slowly reached onto her waist, pulling free the gold and silver hilt that had swung from it just moments before. Running her thumb over the activation switch, the blade was not activated just yet, instead, the knight studied her opponent in front of her. “Why do you come to this place, little jedi?” The same tone, words her mind used on her for years slipped into her own. Perhaps she meant to plant the seeds of doubt in the other miraluka’s mind, or maybe she was just curious why she had come.

Not that she cared either way, too much. The jedi would have her time to answer, but as she spoke, Xobos’ orange blades would extend from either sides of the hilt. “whatever you’re reason, it is not a good enough one to die on these steps and stain them with your blood. Go back to your imperials masters with your life.” A spin of the blade, a step forward, and the sith now faced the jedi below her. She had no intention of charging down to her level. If this poor thing wanted a fight, she'd have to come to her milaluka kin.

 

[Rynn Vizsla]

​

Location: Outer Garang City; Capital of Dantooine.
Objective: Revenge - Limited by the NIO Rule(s) of Engagement.
Allies: The New Imperial Order. The Sons of Mandalore.
Enemies: The Sith Empire. The Confederacy of Independent Systems. The Elder Compact.
Equipment: See the Hyperlink in my Signature.
NPC Complement: No Active NPC's.
Currently Engaging: NPC's Presently. Eventually - Gnox the Insatiable and their Savage Beasts.​

While the bigger picture regarding the ensuing battle was unknown to the lone Mandalorian, the Warrior understood that danger lurked around every corner. The people who still resided within the boundaries of Garang City after the New Imperials launched their invasion were likely to be unwelcoming to his presence. Especially since the Warrior stalked through their embattled streets. In truth, they were just as likely to greet him with spouted vitriol as they were to gun his armoured figure down with state-issued weaponry. That wasn’t even considering the response from roving patrols of Sith Imperial forces, to which Rynn had encountered already. They made it clear that the Mandalorian was a threat. They wanted him dead - just like the damned beasts that once populated Mandalore’s cursed surface. ​

But, the young Vizsla refused their demands and slaughtered them with impunity. They were nothing to him, mere obstacles towards a greater - yet unseen - purpose. That purpose cautiously led him towards the deafening sounds of battle, where his sensors picked up a swarm of semi-friendly transponder tags situated ahead of him. Apparently, the New Imperials were pushed towards the centre of the City near the district he prowled within. Although the Mandalorian couldn’t see what transpired, it seemed like they were winning from the sounds of things. That was an assumption based upon the distinctive thunder-crack of exchanged blasterfire, as the weapons on both sides had a distinct whine. ​

With the smothering of one cacophony and the emergence of the other - it was hard not to believe that one side claimed victory over their opposition. ​

As the Mandalorian approached the distant and dying battle, however, his bestial smile slowly began to fade. He had expected to meet partially friendly forces and link-up with others of his kind. Instead, the young Vizsla was greeted by the silence of death alongside its looming promise that lingered in its wake. These were battle-hardened soldiers. They had seen their fair share of conflict and likely murdered dozens of their former kindred on the battlefield. Yet, whatever they faced here upon the surface of Dantooine saw that they met their grisly end. They fought against the terror that surged through their ranks - but it was clear that they were doomed from the start.​

Such was the fate of all that marched beneath the Iron Sun, it seemed. They were naught but faceless soldiers who were villainized by their former comrades and masters - all because they had the strength to say enough. They, like Rynn, shared many things in common. Even though the Mandalorian hated these Imperials for their beliefs and for the actions of their irredeemable past… He couldn’t help but admire their determination in the face of unmatched adversity. They refused to bend the knee to uncaring masters who were unworthy of their service and cared little for their well-being. The Sith say that they cared for their own people - and yet they continually threw them into the fire in hopes of keeping hold of what tenuous grains of power remained. ​

It was hypocrisy in the grandest sense.​

But, despite such truths making themselves apparent, it didn’t change the horrors that bled into the very earth before his eyes. Whatever tore its way through these battle-hardened veterans was inhuman; that was all that the Mandalorian could divine with a sweep of his sensors and his studious gaze. Some of the armour-clad corpses were beaten with heavy, blunt weapons. Whilst others seemingly bore the more terrible fate of being torn apart by fang and claw. As the last detail came across the screed of data spilling across his T-shaped visor, Rynn felt his stomach tighten as the realization settled in. Once again, the Mandalorian would come face-to-face with the inhuman might of creatures warped by dark magicks. A part of the Warrior was not pleased with the prospect of throwing himself into combat with creatures that defied the conventional laws of physical restraint.​

Yet, the man knew there wouldn’t be any other choice. He would be forced to face off against the alchemical dregs of the Sith Empire, lest he wished for his all-consuming desire for vengeance to go unfulfilled. ​

So, the young Vizsla swallowed his apprehension and steeled himself for the horrors to come. In doing so, his grip around his weapon tightened as it was brought in level with his eyes. Whatever these creatures were - they wouldn’t catch him unawares or unwilling to put up a fight, not like the seemingly faceless soldiers they slaughtered with ease. In the Mandalorian, these inhuman creatures would find their equal, although apparently not in strength or speed despite Rynn’s enhanced physique and powered armour. No, the Warrior would match them with the skill of his arms and the various weapons that were at his beck and call. Through his tactical ingenuity - the malicious will that crafted and subsequently gave life to these creatures - would be tested. ​

With a bit of luck on his side, they, too, would be found wanting.​

As his senses were attuned to his surroundings, something stirred within the depths of his mind and rendered itself into reality by the establishment of a comms channel - rife with static-bound interference. Rynn was momentarily surprised that someone elected to contact him, especially after having purposefully separated himself from the rest of the planet-bound Sons of Mandalore. However, as the words spilled into his ears - there was a sense of familiarity to them. Whomsoever spoke was once of the Sith Empire, but elected to throw off their chains of slavery and choose their own path. He was the furthest thing from a Mandalorian with some semblance of authority, but a part of the Warrior was pleased to hear that wished for Orders.​

Clearly, these individuals were nearby and would likely support him - where the carpet of New Imperials couldn’t. Thus, his only response was an encoded location rune that signalled his location, and a smattering of words to accompany the message that was spoken in his native Mandalorian tongue. ​

Sithspawn are near. Free yourselves and prove your worth.​

When the transmission was sent, Rynn’s gaze was drawn towards a nearby street - where the sounds of battle shattered the silence that began to settle in around him. There was an unbelievable surge of energy that tore through the air, and seemed intent upon striking the Mandalorian down where he stood. He couldn’t see the figure from whence this cracking lethality originated from, even with the various and alternating filters that his Helmet’s visor cycled through. Whoever they were, and whatever they were - it seemed wholly random - but dangerous all the same. With a thought, Rynn activated his Jetpack and lunged to the side, deftly dodging the crackling stream of lightning that was intent on striking him down where he stood. ​

The Mandalorian recovered with relative ease, as the partially aerial maneuver was complete, and his feet once again planted themselves firmly on the blood-soaked earth.​

“Come on then,” Rynn said, beneath his breath with darting eyes. “Come out and face your match, Coward.”​

Edited to include the responses of Laertia Io and Ourania Amun.

 

[The End Narrator]

On the move outside the Sith Temple.

Unscrewing this situation...?

Allies: None.

Enemies: Syd Celsius (At the moment...)

Questionable: Ryv | Jin Kyrel

Wearing: Outfit | Lightsabers: Kor-Vella, Tyrena.


An explosion nearby would send a gust of wind and debris which threatened the flames that lashed away at the wood. Aaralyn closed her eyes as the explosive air rushed over her form, barely moving despite the rough windage. She waited a moment, coughing slightly as the dust began to settle. She waved a hand idly, conjuring enough Force energy with the gesture to whisk away the specs of dirt from the kettle. Aaralyn sighed briefly, bringing the partially gloved hand down to rejoin it’s kin.

And then it struck her…

A notion. A whisper in the Force, a mention of a name - the name of the one who she was waiting for. Aaralyn winced, bringing her hand down to push off the slate which she rested upon. Another sigh, a trademark move of hers, made its presence known as she sent a gentle push into the kettle and flames. The sound of metal clanking echoed in between the blaster bolts and explosions and the cascade of embers lit the area up in a fiery torrent.

Aaralyn bent down to scoop up the two hilts, grunting slightly as she did. She came to, brushing off the dust and specks of debris from her crimson tunic. “Well, I tried it Master Yoda’s way but that didn’t work out…” She said reluctantly, clipping Kor-Vell back to her belt on her right side. She rotated Tyrena in her hand, fingers grazing the worn durasteel frame. The swords she wielded had seen so much - it was almost criminal that they remained silent for so long. And with great hesitation, she clipped Tyrena back on the left side of her body.

Another stir in the Force, this one was more forceful and pressed deep within her mind, it urged her to the location of Ryv , who was the one she came here to bog down and observe. She would focus her mind on his essence through the Force, and that of the one who was so viciously slaughtering NIO Forces. Aaralyn pivoted on her right foot, before taking off in a Force aided sprint. She would weave in and out, pushing off her left foot hard to propel herself into the air, leaping over a defensive position. With a hard grunt, a tuck and roll - she continued on, blowing through lines of both enemies and friends alike.

Aaralyn continued to move like the raging rivers of Kashyyyk, working her way around and all the meanwhile, avoiding direct contact for an extended period. An occasional lightsaber in hand, snap-hiss and dismissal of a bolt or a piece of debris - she wasn’t far to begin with. Aaralyn felt the heat, and heard the screams of those being burnt in the pathway of the relentless flames. Aaralyn skidded to a halt and reached out with the Force in an expeditious manner. She would extend her ethereal presence in such a way that she influenced the molecules around the flames. She made gestures with her hands and arms, the flames stopping in their path and whipping around in defiance of the invisible hand which cusped them to the point of suffocation. The former Sword kept her eyes closed until the last of the flames died down. And die down they would, especially before they singed the air of Ryv and his party. Aaralyn grunted and opened her eyes, before taking an exaggerated breath. “Wow, that was quite a run and ya know…” She chuckled as she turned back to realize the serious of the situation and how she had a brief moment of silence...

And she knew it would only remain for a fraction of a second.

Aaralyn raised both hands, between the might of the GA and NIO, and the SJC Knight who was plowing through the masses with her Sith entourage.

“Look, I think we’re in some confusing times, let’s just talk about this?”

 

[Sturit Goan]

// FERAL ACTUAL // LIEUTENANT COLONEL GOAN
// OBJECTIVE // ASSAULT ON GARANG CITY // SPEARHEAD
// FOCUS // Lyra Voi’Kryt Tavius Muuaji Vostok Grauv Daros Karmann Hayek Sinestra Meko Sorrin Lucien Dooku Dhuzgnar DT-2319 Gedeon Rath Rexus Wenck // NIO GROUNDPOUNDERS // SITH OPPRESSORS // OPEN TO OPPOSITION
// EQUIPMENT // Combat Assault Tank Armor Mk. 1, KXR SFR-58 'Bozdugan' Blaster Rifle, REC-DC/04 "Feverwasp" Pattern Particle Blaster Pistol, Miscellaneous Equipment
// BATTALION // 8TH MECHANIZED BATTALION “FERAL BATTALION” // x1 Command Unit, x5 Armor Companies, ~56 TXV XT-60b Cataphract-class Repulsor Main Battle Tanks, ~14 All-Terrain Armoured Shield Generators, Miscellaneous Support Vehicles // SAPPER SUPPORT COMPANY // Daros Karmann , TXT XV-60a Armored Personnel Carriers, Engineers //
// THEME // HIGHWAY TO HELL // AC/DC

​

<<”Vindicate Actual this is Feral Actual. Solid copy. Organizing now. Over.”>> From his command center in the AT-ASG, he relayed orders to the battalion.

This was usually the part where he’d start complaining about something. Anything. Not out loud, of course; he’d complain about whatever was on his mind in his mind. He’d keep going, of course, just with a few quiet grumbles. But in truth, today he was safe and comfortable. At least as safe as one could be as a tank commander in urban combat. As comfortable one could be wearing the combat armor.

Still, it was so much better. The interior of the ASG was far more spacious for the crew than a Cataphract and far better defended. As often as he disdained walkers compared to repulsortanks, the extraordinarily heavy armor, the extra space and the high vantage point were invaluable. The ASG’s heavy shield generator also protected his subordinates.

Of course, the safest place to be was off the battlefield entirely. Unlike the Imperator and a fair few of the Order’s military high command, Sturit believed it was just fine for a military commander to observe from a distance. Time spent being able to destroy targets from five klicks away could do that to a man. Not that he didn’t respect those people -- Tavlar was a badass, and Sturit would hate to get on his current CO’s bad side. Lyra Voi’kryt seemed like the kind of woman who’d hop up onto his tank and give him a good knock on the head if he pissed her off. Still, he was happy to stay back and away from the RPGs and IEDs chilling in the city.

It was a testament to the skill of the New Imperial armed forces that they were succeeding here at all. Civilian militias that they were meant to subdue, all the while fighting through an urban zone. If the streets were as wide as Muunilist’s? Maybe. But Garang’s streets were far tighter, even the main street they were on could only fit two Cataphracts side-by-side. Three, maybe, but he’d hate to make the drivers be so close.

Even so, no matter how many civilians they armed, they didn’t have the firepower on their own to pierce a Cataphract’s defenses. There weren’t enough anti-tank weapons to go around, especially since the heavier ones would take a minute to set up -- and if a Cataphract saw a target, it’d be gone in no time.

His new role as a lieutenant colonel gave him enough room to not be constantly giving orders. The double column could move on its own and the captains of the individual companies were competent. If they weren’t, he would’ve replaced them.

From his vantage point he could largely ignore the small skirmishes below; Voi’kryt’s soldiers weren’t stupid and the ASGs were more than enough protection. But the sensors brought his attention to something ahead. Heat signatures. Tin can incoming. He ordered the column to stop and the front tanks to set into siege mode; the Cataphracts settled and dug into the ground. By the time the Sith tank had passed the corner the MegaCaliber6 had hit full charge and a volley of plasma left the hostile a smoking hunk of durasteel. The Sith troopers were wise enough not to step into the line of fire and the signatures retreated.

<<”Vindicate Actual this is Feral Actual. Sorry for the delay, we’re getting moving again.”>> The Cataphracts’s entrenchment ended and the MBTs continued their advance, staying under the heavy shield. As a few rockets slammed against it he issued orders for the tanks to mark militia targets but not to fire -- the more of Dantooine was left intact, in both population and infrastructure, the easier it’d be to convert the world to the Order’s cause.

Of course, it was never that easy. There were more dangers ahead.

 

[Starlin Rand]

​

Location: The Enclave archives
Objective: Get curbstomped
Gear: Starlin Rand's lightsaber | Mt. Muspelheim Shoto | Upgraded Fenelar Armor
Writing With: Cotan Sar'andor

Still a little shell shocked from the death of the Padawan, Starlin faced Cotan with icy resolve.

“This isn’t my conflict,” he said. “Deciding what artifacts and teachings goes to whom and who can access it, I mean. I’m just the assistant to the archaeologist.

“...But if this schism has taught me anything, it’s that far too many Jedi are stuck up, full of themselves, priggish zealots who think they’re above everybody else. This goes beyond hoarding knowledge and keeping it under lock and key just because you’re afraid of it. You guys are prioritizing an ancient religious feud over a threat to all life in the galaxy.” He shook his head in disgust. “I know some of you think that there’s a chance the Bryn can be redeemed, changed for the better. But for every one of you that hopes for peace, there’s ten more that are only in this for bloodlust and revenge against the Sith.”

He spun his blades in a flourish that caused flecks of lava to scatter from his shoto. “There’s a reason why they changed the title of that movie about Luke Skywalker redeeming Vader from Revenge of the Jedi to Return of the Jedi. It’s because a Jedi doesn’t take revenge.”

They also don’t strike first, his conscience reminded him. He adjusted his footwork into a Soresu defensive position and waited to see what this Kyle Katarn cosplayer would do next.

 

[Onrai]

Allies: TSE and Allied Fleeters
Enemies: NIO and Associated Fleeters

-

It was time for Vanessa's fleet assets to prepare for their engagement in orbit. Vanessa had gathered the most powerful military assets she had - all sixteen of the Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruisers, two of which were a match for a Star Dreadnought like the one she stood aboard already. Four additional standard Sovereigns had joined the fleet, creating a twenty-ship strong force that lingered out at the fringes of the Dantooine system, ready and waiting to jump to the location in question.

Additionally, as Vanessa did not desire tactical inflexibility, all remaining Saturn-type Battleships within her service, survivors of the Corellia campaign and onetime ruiners of the Hyperion Ascendant, had additionally been mustered into an impromptu squadron of their own. These ships, including her former flagship, the Ablution, and the Saturn prototype, had all been appropriately refitted with the necessary hyperdrive modifications to allow them to shock jump as needed. Like the primary fleet, their beam cannons were all fully charged and ready to fire at a moment's notice, and like the primary fleet, they were waiting the opportunity to jump in. However, they would do so once a designated target had been picked, allowing them to muster fire from their heavy and super-heavy beam cannons on a single target and maximize potential for its destruction.

There were no restrictions. No boundaries. There was only the opportunity to fight or die. Vanessa had few other fleet assets available for this engagement, but certainly intended to effectively use them as needed.

-

Spoiler

Vanessa's Command Fleet
Class | Name | Length | Shields | Hull
Gorgon-class Star Dreadnought | Gorgon | 10000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Heresiarch | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Despot | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Autarch | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Martinet | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Sovereign | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Harbinger | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Guardian | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Mandator | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Caudillo | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Assertor | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Bellator | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Vengeance | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Viscount | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Intimidator | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Annihilator | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign Elite-class Battlecruiser | Arbitrator | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Sovereign | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Terror | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Whelm | 5000m | 100 | 100
Sovereign-class Battlecruiser | Ravager | 5000m | 100 | 100

Shock-Jump Squadron
Class | Name | Length | Shields | Hull
Pluton-class Battleship | Ablution | 2000m | 100 | 100
Pluton-class Battleship | Saturn | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-B | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-C | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-D | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-E | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - O-Variant | EX-F | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - O-Variant | EX-H | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - O-Variant | EX-I | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-K | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-M | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-O | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-P | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-R | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-S | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-T | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-U | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-V | 2000m | 100 | 100
Saturn-type Battleship - D-Variant | EX-Y | 2000m | 100 | 100

 

[Gnox the Insatiable]

LOCATION: Outer Garang
OBJECTIVE: F̵̨eà͡s͟͟ţ
GEAR: The Butcher
ALLIES: TSE
ENEMIES: NIO, Rynn Vizsla

There was a crunch of plasteel, bone, and flesh close by the Mandalorian as he spoke. From the darkness of what should of been homes the lingering and greedy of the Horde stepped into the light. Their numbers few, for the bulk had continued on past this massacre to continue the feast. They remained, unsatisfied with just a few nibbles when there was so much to eat. One in particular, a mighty Flind, stood a head above the rest, his bulk and size obviously putting him in some sort of ranking position. They all eyed the Mandalorian in silence, dropping from their claws the freshly butchered flesh from the various corpses around.

Not that all the bodies were corpses. The Flind's grin grew wide. "Brave, being alone. End with death." Their common was guttural and broken, barely more than the yips and growls the others around it spoke to one another. They were organizing, spreading out to avoid being caught in a flame thrower. Behind the raw and overwhelming beasts was an intelligence. The Flind was in control of this pack, and it's gift from The Insatiable would not be squandered. They made no move to strike Rynn first, instead keeping their distance. Watching. Waiting.

"You shall become feast."

 

[Lark]

​

Location: Crystal Caves
Writing With: Enlil

Lark studied his enchanted blades, sword and dagger, ancient weapons that had been his constant companions since his first training session as an acolyte. The frost-colored weapons were infused with the power of the Dark Side, empowering his own abilities and prowess in battle. The sword's story was one of sanguine fluids and devastating malevolence, and yet for all of the lives the icy weapon had ended, it still cut as sharp as it did the day it was forged. Now it bathed in the blood of an NIO scouting regiment, scarlet ichor dripped down the snowy, azure metal to create a lovely palette of color. By battle's end, the blade and the cerulean crystal labyrinth would be painted the same shade of red.

The scouting force were the only ones Lark had encountered so far, though the caverns were seemingly unending and the sounds of war echoed throughout the crystalline maze. Though he had a general idea of the surrounding layout, it was possible that Sith maps might have missed a narrow crevice or incorrectly plotted where certain tunnels led. It would be easy to get lost, especially once one became entangled in battle and focused on defeating their opposition. How unfortunate one would be to survive the ensuing onslaught only to lose their mind wandering these endless corridors until the comforting veil of death finally silenced their steps.

At least its a pretty view, Lark thought.

A shame there was so little time to admire it. Now that he had a brief moment of reprieve, Lark looked through the eyes of his Svarrif, corvid Sithspawn of his own creation. They acted as his vision for the battle above, so he had some semblance of what was occurring on the surface. It went about as Lark had predicted, and though the Svarrif had difficulty processing what was happening in large scale battles such as this he was still able to detect the shifting tides.

Sensory overload prevented his birds from striking any specific target, multi-colored blaster fire and unending explosive detonations distracted them from swooping down and gouging at NIO grunts. Despite that, there was a target that Lark was able to notice through all of the chaos. A man with blonde hair as radiant as a supernova, and a voice that commanded respect. The man would soon breach the walls of the temple, and if his eyes were keen and his mind not lost to the thrill of battle he would notice a slim fissure that would lead into the same caverns that Lark dwelled within. There was something else off about the man, though Lark couldn't place what it was.

Leaving the aerial view the Svarrif provided behind, Lark returned his view to the beautifully sinister grotto of crystals. He smiled warmly, picking up a smooth rock and skipping it across a perfectly still pool of transparent water. If he was still a child he'd spend every afternoon traversing this magical place with his brother, and then they'd return home and tell stories of their adventure to their little sister.

Instead he became one with the shadows, and awaited the arrival of that royal warrior above.

 

[Rika Hiro]

OBJECTIVE I
G A R A N G C I T Y
C O M P N O R
Taskforce AXIS

OPFOR assets neutralised. Follow instructions, advance upon the objective.


Lt. Colonel Harrsk was a fascinating individual. Asa noted that he seemed not to be overly fond of her or her line of HRDs. Not that he liked any droids or 'skinjobs' as it stood. Badly ageing and a lifetime of back-alley murder and work for the powers that be would make any person a seething mess of hostility. But it was not in her directive to question his dislike, not at least now.


Her directive was to further the Imperial reach, wherever the numerous undesirables lay cowering in the shadows or raising a hand against the grey tide of the Imperators legions. That was her purpose; Her only reason for existing. She'd serve it diligently till her circuits grew dim or cut down in the field of battle till her fractured parts could be repaired no more. That was the life and honour of an Imperial HRD.


The HRD turned her attention to the now bloodied corpse of the poor young man who decided it wise to attack an Imperial soldier. His eyes glazed over and lifelessly looking up at the fractured sky, judging by his appearance and overall civilian appearance. He seemed to be one of the many poor locals banded together and given whatever arms they could get on, in some forlorn attempt by their rulers to delay the Imperial advance. It was odd to her the extent one would go to defend what was theirs, even if it meant exhausting every questionable option available. But these were Sith not scared Jedi militia, the same Sith who conjured up foul legions of monsters and razed worlds like it were a sport. Strange how these once-proud harbingers of death now resorted to throwing scared children at their enemies. A lifetime of hedonism and spending on lavish vanity projects would do that to a people though. It was scarily familiar in most Empires slide into oblivion.




Agent Yubari acknowledged Harrsks commands with a simple nod and proceeded ahead with the advance, the HRDS soulless eyes scanning the rooftops and windows for any sign of OPFOR. Answering occasional pot shots with precise blaster fire, neutralising soldiers with brutal efficiency.



"Three hostiles to your north, lay down suppressing fire and me and agent-


An anti-personnel missile from an adjacent house whizzed over her head. It brutally exploded into the wall above her, sending rubble and smoke over her and sending Asa and another COMPNOR agent tumbling to the hard pavement. Through the smoke cloud, another group of blaster rounds flew at her. One round hit her in the shoulder, burning synthetic skin and cloth exposing the metal and wiring beneath. If she had nerve endings, Asa might have screamed but instead, she bolted from where she fell and moved behind cover.


Kark.

The sound of one of those new imperials fighter grew louder behind her, and she turned in time to see it coming down in an attack run, spraying green laser bolts over the Sith positions. Much of the street and the wider city was torn apart, resembling more some holonet art depiction of hell than an idyllic agricultural city.

Distracted for a moment, someone shoved her to the side, and she hit the floor hard. She looked up to see an unruly mop of blonde hair and crazed blue eyes, as some crazed legionary moved to finish her with his rifle. Asa answered him in kind, and her fist took the man through the mouth and punched out through the base of his skull. The legionary tottered uneasily on his feet, his rifle slipping from his hand. His eyes rolled into the back of his head before he toppled over.

Asa struggled to her feet. There was fighting going on all around her but she paid it little mind. She glanced down at the man who had intended to kill her.


Fool.


Tags: Jaeger Harrsk Tulan Kor Vostok Grauv
Enemies: Come get it ​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

​

Noćna Mora.

Devourer. They were living embodiments of all his hatred and rage. Executioners. Souls given to them disappeared. In their wake worlds drowned in storms of fire. Their fury burned everyone and everything until the only thing that remained was....silence. In the past it had only ever roamed free for one hour, only one, and the destruction it caused was astounding. Afterward he made the decision that it wouldn't happen again so carelessly, he would feast opponents to his demons in their world, the prison he had placed them in, and if he unleashed them it would be to destroy. To take it all away. The spatial aperture grew in size and scale and with it so did the heat. The sheer force of the presence it poured out caused the ground beneath it to buckle inward creating a crater. Fire licked out from their world and into the material plane and with such heat, the wall behind the aperture began to bubble, droplets forming on its surface as the closest portions began to melt.​

​

Even now he could feel it.​

​

One of his creations was just on the other side of the rift and it was one of the largest specimens in their realm, easily topping ten meters in height. Even now he could feel its presence shift onto him the very act brought increased heat, gouts of fire spurted outward from the rift towards him and the suits HUD blazed with alarm. Its consciousness had touched with his own and he could feel its burning malevolence. They had adapted well to their corner, their prison. A place that they held an iron fisted dominion, and they had grown powerful still. They were used to his presence reaching into their world, they were drawn to it. The inherent reverence was common in all of their kind for him, for the one who created them, who brought them to heel.​

​

"What delicious morsel do you bring to me, lord?"​

​

"None. Come to me. Deliver unto my enemies annihilation."​

​

"It will all burn."​

​

A short telepathic exchange between creator and monster.​

​

The rift grew. ​

Gerwald Lechner | Redd | Lavria Xedrim | Aurelion Nova | Aiden Wolf ​

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

​

Location: Enclave
Allies: NIO | NJO | GA
Frenemies: SJC | Starlin Rand
Enemies: TSE | CIS

I wonder who his master is. He sounds like he's been listening to that Laertia Io a lot.

Cotan straightened slightly as Starlin delivered his retorts. They were full of the fire of a young man who thought he was right. "I don't doubt that there are many here for revenge," he said after a moment. "But I think there are far more who understand that allying with the Sith—who have sought our total destruction for millennia, and who will stab us in the back and turn tail as soon as the opportunity presents itself—is an unacceptable proposition. To accept them like that, to tacitly legitimize them and their governance out of fear for a mundane threat, is something nobody in the galaxy should stand for, Jedi or otherwise." He stretched his left hand out, reaching out with the Force to Starlin's duffel bag to pull it off of the kid's shoulder.

As he did so, the amber blade of his own lightsaber sprung forth. "Put away your weapons, give me the bag, and I'll send you with a guard to the field hospital we have set up. From there we can get you off this planet and somewhere safe." His tone was firm and commanding, not the conciliatory speech he'd been trying with the boy. "For both of us, don't try anything else."