Junction No Sanctuary Here || SO/GA Junction of Sisio and Orellon II

[Dreidi Xeraic]

​

Location: Eiattu
Companion: Grisial
Equipment: Lightsaber, Ichor Sword, Nightsister Energy Bow
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Tag: Nyxira Valis

A storm was brewing over the city. A storm that Dreidi knew was fuelled by the unnatural powers of the Dark Side. The strikes of red lightning purposefully targeting Alliance soldiers, it was a Sith of some skill that was attempting to demoralise and destroy the progress that the Alliance had made in taking control of the city. Dreidi breathed in deeply, the power on display was signalling that this was someone that wasn't a mere acolyte or knight. This was a Sith Lord of some threat, a threat that was continuing to cause an issue. Using the weather to cause destruction and utter chaos around them.

"Let's how the storm warrior." Dreidi mentioned to Grisial, "we can't let them continue brewing storms like this."

Her Dathomiri chanting began as she headed in the direction where the Sith Lord was causing the storm. Dreidi's eyes flickered with green energy, the flow of Magick snaking around her arms. Pooling into her hands, the energy grew in power as she neared the storm. Once she felt the power pooled enough between her hands, she launched it into the storm. Disrupting the growing storm, Dreidi was ending this Sith Lord's attempts to use the storm to cause anymore harm.

Leaping forward, Dreidi raced up to where the Sith was stationed. She needed to fight this Sith Lord to draw the focus away from the larger scale war going on and just a single duel. It was risking a lot on Dreidi's part but she was feeling her most powerful right now, a power she had not felt in a long time. Spotting Nyxira, Dreidi breathed out slowly and ignited her Lightsaber. "Your storm ends now!" Dreidi called out.

 

[Tarw Rhyfelwr]

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Location: Eiattu
Armour: Personal Armour
Weapon: Rotary Cannon, blaster pistol, thermal detonators, beskad.
Tag: Phaelissia

"Sonic grenade!" Gundar called out as he ducked into cover.

Tarw slid into his own cover and felt the sonic ringing in the ears as the grenade went off in the air. The disorientation was lucky not as bad as it could have been. However, the ringing in his ears told him that he couldn't take too many of those in close quarters like this. Gundar luckily was quick in response, throwing an ion grenade in reply, the tech expert knew that they needed to disrupt any shields and tech that their opponent might have strapped.

To help the grenade work most effectively, Tarw shifted out of his cover and laid down a heavy suppressive fire. Peek also worked to snipe some shots with her sniper rifle several rooftops away. The team was working as effectively as they could to ensure this opponent couldn't get a step ahead of them. Tarw was also determined to make sure that they were able to not just get this imperial but move swiftly onto the next fight. There was too much going on and too many sith troopers that they needed to take down in order to make sure that the city was maintained by the Alliance.

He needed to get them moving so that they could push the Sith lines back out of the city here.

"Throw a plasma next," Tarw commanded over the comms to Gundar who primed the next grenade ready.

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira stood atop the shattered remains of a skyscraper, her violet eyes narrowing as the presence of a Jedi rippled through the Force. Her storm roared above, a swirling tempest of crimson lightning and dark power, but there was a new thread woven into the chaos — one that burned with defiance and an irritating resilience.

Her gaze swept the battlefield, locking onto the approaching figure of Dreidi. The green glow of the Jedi's Magick was unmistakable, a stark contrast against the darkened skies and the red-tinged destruction below. A faint smirk tugged at Nyxira's lips.

"So, the defenders send me a witch," she murmured to herself, her voice low and edged with dark amusement. "Let's see if she can dance."

Nyxira extended one hand skyward, her fingers curling as she channeled the storm's fury. The clouds above churned violently, arcs of crimson lightning converging in response to her command. With a sharp gesture, she brought her hand down, directing the lightning toward Dreidi like jagged spears of wrath.

The first bolt struck the ground just ahead of Dreidi's path, exploding in a spray of stone and dirt. The second came closer, a crackling arc of red that seared the air as it streaked toward her. The storm's fury intensified with each strike, bolts raining down in quick succession, forcing the Jedi to react or face annihilation.

Nyxira tilted her head slightly, observing her opponent with the detached curiosity of a predator testing its prey. The raw energy of the Dark Side coursed through her, feeding her control over the storm and amplifying its relentless assault. She wasn't aiming to kill — not yet. This was a game, a test of skill and resolve.

"You're bold to approach me alone," Nyxira called out, her voice cutting through the storm with a resonance that seemed to vibrate in the very air. "But boldness without strength is little more than folly. Show me your power, Jedi. Prove that you are worthy of my attention."

Another sharp motion of her hand, and a fresh arc of lightning screamed toward Dreidi, this time aimed to strike just as she leapt toward higher ground. The storm's ferocity mirrored Nyxira's anticipation, the winds howling around them as if eager to witness the clash to come.

She remained poised, her black cloak billowing in the tempest, her presence unyielding. The game had begun, and Nyxira was eager to see whether the Jedi's defiance could withstand the full force of the storm.

Dreidi Xeraic ​

 

[Dreidi Xeraic]

​

Location: Eiattu
Companion: Grisial
Equipment: Lightsaber, Ichor Sword, Nightsister Energy Bow
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Tag: Nyxira Valis

The first strike was directly in front of her, Dreidi snorted and shook her head. This game of cat and mouse wasn't going to be so simple. However, this Sith was definitely underestimating the skills that Dreidi had. It was something that many Sith had done in the past. They did not understand the powers that she held as a Witch of Dathomir and that the Nightsisters were not the only ones who could use the Magick to the fullest. Dreidi rushed forward, zigzagging around the rooftops and when she felt the shifts in the atmospheric pressures, the warnings of lightning coming down on her.

As soon as Nyxira attempted to blast her with lightning, Dreidi teleported into thin air, with Grisial able to leap into her teleportation stream and join her. Moving to the next rooftop. Each time the blast of lightning came down towards Dreidi, she would teleport them away to another rooftop. It was tiring after the third or fourth attempt. Her body was beginning to burn up as she wasn't used to the constant teleporting away. She needed to get closer, Dreidi couldn't keep letting this Sith Lord have the advantage of distance.

"Seems to me that your strikes fail to even get close to touching me," Dreidi taunted in response Nyxira. "Even my Padawans could handle such obvious strikes." She raised her hands, suggesting that if this was all the best that Nyxira had to offer then Dreidi was far from impressed.

Switching her Lightsaber for the energy bow, Dreidi fired several shots towards the Sith Lord. Utilising her own ranged attacks, she breathed out slowly, she was not a marksman like her father with the bow but she had years of practice under her belt now, she could fire the bow with a level of mastery few others held. Especially with the style of energy bow that Dreidi was using.

 

[Credius Nargath]

The Jedi before him seemed to be cut our of quite the different kind of wood than most who had faced the Lord of Hunger, be it those prior to his absence on the galactic stage or before it. Twice now had the Galactic Alliance brought someone before him with the gal to not simply oppose him, but outright challenge him. To make matters worse, this one seemed to have the stones to actually irritate the very abomination in the force he was up against.

Hearing the sneers, the veiled insults of the Jedi, the Lord of Hunger grit his teeth for a bit, tilting his head as he observed how the Jedi began to circle him, again throwing jabs towards the Sith Lord with the typical dogmatic lines they drilled into the heads of their padawans at the Jedi temples across the galaxy. However, perhaps it was quite refreshing for Credius to hear that Jedi liked the sound of their own voice just as much as Sith did, in all their dogmatic, narrow-minded views against the Sith, it seems they too fell victim too easily to their own ego and bluster.

"Darkness...light, such absolute concepts...and here I thought you Jedi always said only Sith dealt in absolutes...such meaningless hypocrisy, such rampant ego...it is... quite interesting to hear you talk in such a manner," A chuckle escaped the monster's voicebox, the mask muffling his words, but the timbre and hollow sound made it all too clear how amusing the Lord of Hunger found this banter. The implications of his words weren't veiled either, nor were they in any way untrue, for the Jedi themselves had seemingly grown into the same idiosynchracies they tended to attribute to the Sith, thus becoming more like the Sith in both their way of thinking and the way they seemed to act. "You preach unity, but I have seen little of that unity among your peers, I have seen more ego and selfishness coming from your brethren than any of the Sith, perhaps the times have truly changed in my absence."

Still, as he was contemplating how to deal with this whelp, the Sith Lord was surprised by the aggressive maneuvers made by the young man, only narrowly slamming the side of his Genesis blade against the incoming saberstaff, only to by doing so having given the Jedi an opening to strike properly against his armor, while it was highly resistant to lightsaber strikes, the armor still wasn't fully impervious to the heat coming from the weapon, with both the initial blow to his side putting him off balance and allowing for the second thrust to pierce within a gap of the armor's plating, burning a clear hole within the arm it had struck into.

"That...hurt, you curr," The deep sigh escaping the Lord of Hunger's mask was quite audible, the gasp he made as he realized his dominant arm had been hurt showed that he was indeed taken by surprise. However, it was now that perhaps the Lord of Hunger's most dangerous side would be revealed, for as he allowed his non-dominant right arm to rise into the air, a shockwave erupted from with him at the very center, tearing the ground and soil asunder, crackling with ever expanding energy within the force as a deep, dark shadow followed suite, a cold, black fog rolling over the ground in the shockwave's wake, unimpeded by walls or armor, it slowly drained all nearby life of any living thing.

"I am Hunger made flesh, you seek to lecture me on power and fear...but you do not fathom the depths of despair I could bring you to," His dominant arm started to shudder, as black tendrils seemed to be sowing the hole within it together, visibly turning his wound into a roughly healed scar and even that seemed to be fading rapidly. A cough escaped the monster's throat as he glared towards the Jedi with his intense crimson and golden eyes, the slit pupils clearly indicating the inhumanity of the Lord of Hunger. It took but a mere moment for the Lord of Hunger to bend through his legs and suddenly leap forward, hewing down with the Genesis blade in a mighty hew, attempting to cleave Gil in twain from skull to groin, only to follow up with a force-body enhanced forward kick to the gut with his left foot. "Do not even think about challenging me...you insignificant cog in an inconsequential order. You are but one in a thousand, but I am the only true Lord of Hunger."

TAG: Gil Horn

 

[Gil Horn]

Tags: Credius Nargath

Gil Horn staggered back as the shockwave erupted from the Lord of Hunger, the force of the blast tearing through the ground and sending debris flying in every direction. The black fog that followed was chilling, not just in temperature but in the way it drained the very essence of life from everything it touched. Gil could feel it pulling at his strength, clawing at his resolve, but he stood firm, letting the Force flow through him, anchoring him in the Light.

As the Sith leapt forward, his massive Genesis blade coming down with lethal intent, Gil moved with the speed and precision of someone who had trained for moments exactly like this. He stepped to the side, his saberstaff spinning upward to deflect the downward strike, the green blades clashing against the alchemically enhanced weapon in a burst of sparks and light. The power of the blow forced him to slide back, boots digging into the torn earth for stability.

The follow-up kick came too quickly to fully dodge, but Gil twisted his body, lessening the impact. The enhanced strike still connected, sending him skidding across the battlefield, but he managed to stay on his feet, his saberstaff held in a defensive position.

"Your hunger is endless, Sith," Gil said, his voice sharp but unwavering as he stepped forward again, "but it blinds you. It consumes you, leaving nothing but emptiness. You think that makes you strong, but all I see is a void where purpose should be."

Without hesitation, he surged forward, saberstaff spinning as he launched a series of quick, precise strikes at the Lord of Hunger. Each blow was aimed to test the Sith's defenses, probing for weaknesses while keeping the monstrous opponent on the defensive. The green blades whirled and clashed against the Genesis blade, filling the air with the sharp crackle of energy and metal.

As he pressed the attack, Gil reached out with the Force, his mind calm and focused despite the chaos around him. He sent a powerful telekinetic push aimed at the Sith's legs, attempting to throw him off balance and create an opening. Simultaneously, he struck high with one blade of his saberstaff while keeping the other ready to defend against any counterattack.

"You speak of despair," Gil said, his movements fluid and deliberate. "But despair has no hold on me. The Light is my guide, and it is unyielding. Even if I fall today, the Alliance will stand, and the galaxy will resist your hunger."

He pivoted, using the momentum of his saberstaff to deliver a powerful spinning strike aimed at the Sith's side. The Force coursed through him, enhancing his speed and precision, as he pressed the assault with determination. The Lord of Hunger might be a monster, but Gil knew monsters could be fought—and defeated.

 

[Credius Nargath]

No chuckle, no show of glee within the Lord of Hunger's eyes showed any response to the pressure he hoped to put unto the Jedi, tempering his own emotions almost in a similar manner as the Jedi themselves did, the monster focused solely on the singular purpose he had at this moment, to rid himself of this opponent whose youth and fervent zealotry to the cause of the Jedi stood opposite to the Lord of Hunger's unbridled hunger for knowledge, power and everything beyond. A focused anger, a controlled, cold rage was what drove the abomination within the Force now.

"And all I see is shackles where freedom should be, young Jedi," Credius' response was perhaps just as fast as the way he shifted the grip of his fingers upon the Hilt of the Genesis blade, relaxing his wrist a bit as he allowed his body to be more limber, more flexible without forgoing his posture alltogether.

There was without a doubt focus to be found in his stance, a clear hint at Makushi present, as he started to parry the first strike, the second strike, the third one, all with a calm demeanor, a focused mind and a fluid motion of his swordarm, an elegance clearly filling his swordsmanship that his earlier style didn't seem to have.

With his contnious connection to the force thanks to his extended aura, the Lord of Hunger could figure out that the Jedi was up to something during their clash of sword and staff, but as he had little to no idea exactly what it could be, considering he was no mindreader, the first action Credius took, was to throw up a quick force barrier with his free hand, but as he hadn't actually concentrated nor focused on this defense, the barrier was quite easily shattered and to the Sith's surprise his legs got snagged from underneath him, which happened to actually help out a bit as while he had stumbled backwards and fell to one knee, he could see his opponent's saberstaff thrusting into the air a mere inch above his facemask, which caused the Lord of Hunger to tighten his grip onto the hilt of his sword, a grunt escaping his throat.

Raising back to his full height, the Lord of Hunger's free hand moved towards the incoming strike with the saberstaff, making it feel as if all it hit was a earthen wall, getting stuck in voidstone clasps, telekinesis was used to prevent the staff from moving any closer, before the opposite happened and Credius unleashed another burst of the force from the palm of his hand, attempting to blow away the saberstaff he had just defended against in order to full open up his opponent, to whom he'd thrust his Genesis blade, not towards the heart, not towards the head, but towards the gut, for killing this opponent was far from his goal. After all, how to better satiate himself than to force a jedi to become angry and enraged...


TAG: Gil Horn

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery met Dacian's strikes head-on, her movements a masterclass in precision and speed. Each swing of his vibrosword was countered by her violet blade, the crackling collisions sending arcs of light across the battlefield. Her fiery amber eyes locked onto his crimson gaze, unwavering and determined. She matched his energy, not letting a single strike push her off balance or break her rhythm.

The two danced across the terrain in a blur of motion, their clash a storm of sparks and power. Dacian's exhilaration only fueled her resolve, and when his strikes grew bolder, Valery anticipated them with the foresight born from years of mastery. As his blade descended in a heavy arc, she caught it mid-swing, her lightsaber locking with his vibrosword.

The air between them sizzled with tension, the hum of her blade cutting through the brief silence. Their eyes met, a moment of unspoken understanding passing between them. His manic excitement clashed with her focused intensity, the contrast stark and electric. Though beneath the surface, Valery enjoyed this, too.

Valery's lips curved into the faintest of smirks, just as her form shimmered with the Force. In an instant, she phased through him, her body becoming insubstantial as she slipped past his blade and momentum. The unexpected maneuver hopefully caused Dacian to stumble forward, and give her an opening to exploit.

She reappeared behind him, her ponytail cracking like a whip as she spun with blinding speed. The rotational momentum carried her violet blade in a precise, sweeping arc aimed for his back. The hum of her lightsaber rose in pitch, a deadly crescendo that promised no mercy for hesitation or recklessness.

Valery was more than fast, more than skilled — she was the apex of her Order's discipline, and her every movement reflected the weight of her purpose. This fight wasn't just another battle; it was a statement. She would prove that the light, no matter how tested, could burn brighter than any shadow.

Darth Dacian ​

 

[Ashley Nevermore]

Tag: Reicher Vax

The roar of thunder filled the air. Another round of orbital bombardment, as Phoenix Platoon took cover. Everything shook, and yet it seemed mostly ineffective.

<Sitrep, all units.> Ashley called out as she got her bearings.

<Wizard, reporting in. No casualties, but we're shaken. Prepping for flanking maneuvers.>

<Belay that, Wizard. Sith reinforcements are making that harder than it'll be worth. Set up to the west, and provide overlap.>

<Copy Firebird. Shifting west.>

<Dragon to Firebird, we're all alive and set for forward push.>

<Copy Dragon. Push forward with Paladin and swamp those bastards.>

Ashley took one last look to behind her, checking on the mortars that kept her snipers hidden. The mortar team to the east of them, part of Avalanche Platoon, had been vaporized by the bombardment, and now the sith were advancing. A blaster bolt flew through the window, just missing Womprat, and causing Ashley to flinch from the sudden burst of energy against the back wall.

<We're alive Ash. Shifting position, off station for 2 mikes.> She could hear Gearhead over the radio, giving her a moment of relief. She worried too much, and it ate at her at times, but it was what kept her men alive.

"What's the play, Ash?" Womprat said without taking his eye away from the scope, despite the counter sniper fire.

"Dragon'll push up with Paladin. We'll have to provide cover fire, and push them back. Hopefully we can break the sith advance."

"Those damn force users are gonna give us problems."

"That's what you're for. Sith lords can't kill what they can't find." Ashley chuckled.

"Seems they found us already." He said, moving away from his hide. "We need to relocate."

"Negative." DJ called out. "Only place we got is downstairs."

"This place is gonna get shelled if we don't." Ashley frowned. "What about the building down the street?"

"I got Ravens in the air, If we can get past their smokescreens with LIDAR. There's a hide just downstairs that'll keep us hidden." Boxer relayed, gesturing to the stairs. "Better move now though. They got about a thousand meters to cross before they get in effective range."

The four moved, Ashley hoping the next few minutes would be worth it.

"You think Giggles actually likes Joker?" DJ asked casually as they descended the stairs.

"Now? Now you ask that?" Womprat laughed.

"Hey, gotta ask sometime."

"Oh she totally has the hots for him." Boxer snorted. "I think I saw her sneaking into his tent last week."

"I'll have to talk to her, won't I?" Ashley groaned, before suddenly hearing her comms light up, holding up a hand to tell everyone around her to be quiet.

<Greybeard to Firebird, we're set up. Dragon, waiting for your signal.>

<Copy Greybeard, setting up in new hide. Dragon, 15 seconds.>

<Copy. Boar and Goner are awaiting the signal.>

The signal came in the form of a barrage of ordinance raining down over a ruined building, into the sith assualt. First came Ion Mortar Shells, then a flurry of HE grenades, and finally a heavy mass driver launched cryo round that landed dead center in the sith's line, as 3 Bobcat Light Walkers turned the corner, and opened up on the sith troopers, then the Tiger Medium Assault Walker turned the corner, opening up with it's grenade launcher and four blaster cannons, and all of a sudden the battlefield was once more alight with heavy fire.

Wizard Squad, in turn, opened fire from the western flank, creating an overlapping field of fire. Both designated marksmen started picking off high value targets, officers and any form of heavy weapons, as Bumpkin, Wizard Squad's autorifle operator began suppressing any form of forward assault by unloading with his blaster cannon. Grenades began raining down from ammo bearers and riflemen, as the walkers began to slowly push back against the sith assault.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord moved with nightmarish speed, almost too quick for the young Aris to perceive. Each of his strikes was met with the Dark Lord's blade, sparks clashing from each impact. The sparks ignited an errant trail of fuel, a trail of flame gushing up as it spun along the cobbles and into the wrecked aircraft. It would no doubt detonate shortly, once the heat had reached the source of the fuel leak, but for now it merely smouldered in the conflagration.

Catching the youth's next strike with His open hand, mailed in lobstered runic steel, the Dark Lord pulled the young Noble closer with a downwards turn of the wrist. "Good, I can see that fire in your eyes, boy. Let it sharpen you, temper you. Anger gives you focus, hatred makes you stronger. Give into your anger, only your hatred can destroy me." He pushed Aris away, twisting the caught blade at an angle where it could potentially snap if enough force was levered.

With the distance between them again reestablished, the Dark Lord extended His empty hand and summoned forth a pillar of green flame. It lasted only for a breath, leaving behind a leering helmet behind. Carefully, the Dark Lord affixed the helmet over His head -- which melded into the armor to create a seamless merger. Rather than holes to see out of, the helmet's eyes were solid metal etched over with spiraling runes. These runes now began to glow brightly, creating a feverish simulacrum of burning red eyes.

When the Dark Lord next spoke, His voice had been twisted and warped by the mask into a raspy whispers, almost inaudible save for the spine-tingling tremor that ripped through Aris' senses.

"But if you will not give me your hate, I'll feed on your fear."

The Dark Lord was upon him, red blade flashing like a viper's bite.

Aris Noble | Domina Prime | Jonyna Si ​

 

[Roman Vossari]

Tags: Chasianna

​

Roman's senses strained, reaching out into the Force, searching for the source of the unease that had settled upon the forest. He felt a presence, cold and sharp, but it was elusive, like a wisp of smoke in the wind. He couldn't pinpoint its exact location, only the disturbing feeling that danger was still lurking, watching.

Then, a telltale creak echoed from the mangled remains of the landspeeder. Roman's mind screamed in warning, his body reacting before his conscious thought could catch up. He leaped backwards, clearing the ground just as a vibroblade flashed through the space his legs had occupied moments before. The weapon, spun with deadly precision, whizzed past, narrowly missing him.
He landed, adrenaline coursing through his veins, and his gaze locked onto the figure standing a distance away. Pale skin, unlike any he had encountered before. This wasn't some random soldier, this was an assassin, an agent of deliberate malice. She looked unassuming enough, but her actions spoke volumes.

A gasp from behind him made him whirl around. Ambassador Tahn, propped weakly against the tree, struggled to speak. "Assassin, Roman... Leave me."

Disbelief flooded Roman. Leave the Ambassador? He couldn't, not in his injured state. His duty, his oath, they wouldn't allow him. He refocused on the pale figure, his stance firm, the cyan blade of his lightsaber humming with contained power. He raised his head, trying to analyze this situation, searching for any other options that might be available to him.

He drew upon the Light, letting it fill him, a warm tide against the creeping coldness. He spoke, his voice clear and firm despite the tremor of anxiety running through him. "Stay back," he warned, his eyes fixed on her. "You can still walk away and avoid any conflict." He wouldn't let her attack, he would not allow the Ambassador to be hurt, he would do whatever it took to keep him safe.

His muscles coiled, ready to unleash the Force in a powerful wave, a telekinetic push that would send her crashing back. Yet, a strange calm settled over him as he willed himself into a higher sense of awareness. He was prepared to protect, but he also hoped for a peaceful resolution, a chance for her to turn back. He lowered his stance slightly, his hand still gripping the lightsaber's hilt. He would only unleash the force wave if she continued toward them.

If she turned, if she backed away, he'd deactivate his blade and tend to Ambassador Tahn - that was his first priority. But, should the assassin continue any further, he would be ready to protect them both.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Landing Site 31
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Thermal Detonator
Tag: Darth Malum of House Marr Ashley Nevermore

The battlefield erupted into chaos as Alliance walkers rounded the corner, their firepower cutting through the Sith advance like a hot blade through durasteel. Reicher Vax ducked behind a shattered barricade as ion mortar shells exploded overhead, bathing the field in bursts of electromagnetic energy that shorted out comms for a split second and forced his visor to recalibrate. The crimson glow of his blade illuminated the smoky air as he assessed the rapidly shifting tide.

<All units, this is Lieutenant Vax. We've encountered a heavily armored counterattack. Multiple light and medium walkers supported by infantry and overlapping fire positions. Enemy marksmen targeting high-value assets—officers and heavy weapons. Adjust your positions accordingly.>

He activated his commlink's encrypted channel to Sith Command. <Command, this is Vax at Landing Site 31. Immediate armored reinforcements required. We are pinned by enemy walkers and concentrated fire. Repeat, request armored support and additional troops. Marking coordinates for deployment.>

Even as he relayed the call for reinforcements, Reicher moved with the precision of a seasoned veteran. His crimson visor scanned the battlefield, locking onto key enemy positions. His voice cut through the comms with cold clarity. <Mortar teams, target enemy walkers. Focus on disabling their mobility. Infantry, deploy smoke and thermal disruptors to confuse their targeting systems. Heavy weapons squads, prioritize the Tiger-class walker—it's the backbone of their assault.>

He turned to the Old Guard squad beside him, their discipline unbroken despite the chaos around them. "Tactical advance!" he barked. "Leapfrog movement—one team suppress, one team advance. Target their infantry support and push the line forward so our armor have the space to land!"

The squad responded instantly, their movements synchronized as they executed the maneuver. Blaster fire cut through the smoke as Sith troopers engaged the advancing Alliance infantry, their overlapping fire patterns designed to create a kill zone.

Reicher raised his blade, deflecting a stray bolt back toward an Alliance grenadier attempting to flank their position. He pivoted, his voice modulated but firm. "Grenades on my mark! Target their suppression teams!"

A volley of grenades arced through the air, detonating amidst the Alliance forces. The explosion sent shrapnel and debris flying, forcing their line to briefly falter. Reicher used the opportunity to push forward, his squad close behind. The Sith advance was methodical, brutal, and relentless.

The Tiger walker loomed ahead, its grenade launcher and blaster cannons raining devastation. Reicher's voice cut through the cacophony once more. <Orbital support, adjust fire mission. Target coordinates updated—focus on neutralizing enemy walkers and suppressing their reinforcements. Timing is critical.>

Despite the ferocity of the battle, Reicher remained calm, his mind working through contingencies and countermeasures. Every move he made was calculated, designed to blunt the Alliance's momentum and turn the tide back in the Sith's favor.

He turned briefly toward the sky, where reinforcements would soon arrive—or so he hoped. "Hold the line!" he called to his troops. "Armored reinforcements are coming. We bleed now so the Empire triumphs later!"

​

 

[Eloise Dinn]

"Well, I'd hope I could come up with a better title than that, should the necessity arise. Then again, maybe not. I am terrible at naming things."

“No shit.”

He said they weren’t playing to win. That they were just buying time. Problem was, their opponent was playing to win. And to kill.

Eloise flung up a Force barrier as pieces of debris were hurled her way. The bubble of invisible protection included Alicio in its radius. Her little stunt with the skyscraper had worked; the Sith was cut off from his troops, and clearly pissed about it.

“Come on,” she roared as chunks of duracrete exploded into pebbles against her shield. “I know you can do better than that!”

They weren’t protecting anything, just standing in the way of the bad guys. Being obstacles. She didn’t fully understand why the Chancellor was involved, but she would never pass up on a chance to fight Sith. “Where’s your Force lightning, Cringe Lord?” she taunted the nameless Darth headed ominously toward them. “Where’s your choking grip, your deadly sight, your arrows of darkness?”

Igniting her green lightsaber, she stayed where she was, waiting for their foe to make his next move. This guy would have to prove he was as big and bad as he acted like he was.

Darth Imperius Alicio Organa​

 

[Darth Dacian]

Wearing

Wielding: Standard Gear (Bio)
TAGS:
Friends:
Foes:​

Valery Noble​

Dacian would have stabbed straight into her chest had Valery not phased through him, the move surprising Dacian, something he had rarely seen and never in a situation like this. Before he could fully register the moment, she reappeared behind him, her blade already arcing toward his unprotected back. The shift in her positioning was seamless, deadly, and faster than his usual reactions could counter.

But Dacian's instincts had always been sharp, something he called upon at this very moment. His right hand darted under his robes, gripping the hilt of the saber tucked there. With a snap-hiss, the blade ignited in a brilliant crimson flash, catching the Battlemaster's strike just inches from his spine. The clash of plasma sent a spray of sparks cascading around them, the force of the impact rippling through the air.

The sudden maneuver tore through the upper portion of Dacian's robes, shredding fabric that fluttered to the ground in smoldering tatters. He turned into the strike, displacing the strike with a pivot, his movements smoothly transitioning into a spin as he stepped back. A laugh escaped him, an unbidden gesture, resonating with exhilarated surprise.

"Outstanding! If I were just a tad less seasoned that maneuver would have cut through my back." He said, stepping back even further to reset their footing. His crimson eye gleamed with excitement, his grin broad and unrestrained.

He paused, catching his breath as the hand that held his vibrosword reached up to tear away the ruined remnants of his robes. Beneath the fabric was a figure carved by discipline—slender yet athletically built, his musculature defined yet without excess. His torso bore the trophies of hardship, scars of varying sizes crisscrossing his pale skin.

Dacian tossed the last of his tattered robes aside, rolling his shoulders as if shedding both the weight of the garment and the formality with wearing one. The cool air of the battlefield brushed against his exposed skin, but he paid it no mind. Instead, he raised both weapons, his lightsaber glowing a blood-thirsty crimson in one hand, his vibrosword humming in the other. He shifted into a Jar'Kai stance, his feet planted firm, his posture balanced in its aggression.

"You Jedi and your craftiness," he said with a low chuckle, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and respect. "My Sith brethren oft echo the sentiment that your kind are weak. But I disagree." He twirled the vibrosword once, the blade catching the faint arena light.

His grin widened, tinged with genuine admiration. "I know skill when I see it, and I respect your martial prowess. Indeed the prospect of clashing blades with you in a few moments excites me. And I'm sure I'm not alone in that sentiment, am I correct?" He emphasized the latter portion of his words, almost as if he picked up on the tinges of enjoyment Valery extracted from their duel.

 

[Nyxira Valis]

Nyxira's smirk widened as she watched Dreidi dart across the rooftops, her movements graceful and precise. The Jedi's teleportation ability was impressive, if not entirely unexpected. It was a clever trick, but one that came with its own limits. Nyxira could already sense the strain it placed on her opponent, the subtle faltering in the Force that betrayed Dreidi's growing fatigue.

When the taunt came, Nyxira tilted her head, her violet eyes gleaming with amusement. "Strikes?" she called out, her voice carrying over the storm with a cold, mocking edge. "Oh, little witch, I'm not trying to strike you. I'm merely playing with my food."

Dreidi's energy bow flared to life, her shots streaking toward Nyxira with deadly precision. But the Sith Lady remained where she was. With a flick of her wrist, a shimmering barrier of energy materialized around her, its surface crackling with arcs of blue lightning. The energy bolts collided with the barrier and scattered as the lightning rippled outward in a mesmerizing display.

One that demanded energy, but Nyxira had plenty left to unleash.

Her eyes narrowed, her attention shifting to the rooftop beneath Dreidi's feet. The storm's power surged around her, the winds howling in concert with her command. With a sharp gesture, she extended both hands toward the distant rooftop, her voice resonating with the ancient cadence of Sith incantations.

The air around Dreidi's perch seemed to groan and shudder as Nyxira poured her will into the structure itself. Cracks began to spiderweb across the surface, chunks of debris breaking free and tumbling into the chaos below. The rooftop trembled violently, the ancient stone unable to withstand the crushing pressure of the Dark Side.

Finally, shee raised one hand, summoning a jagged arc of crimson lightning that arced through the storm and struck the collapsing rooftop. The explosion of stone and energy sent shards flying, the destruction threatening to engulf Dreidi entirely.

Dreidi Xeraic ​

 

[Gil Horn]

Tags: Credius Nargath

Gil felt the sharp tug of telekinetic energy wrenching at his saberstaff. The weapon was ripped from his grip, its green blades spinning away into the battlefield, embedding itself in the ground some distance behind him. The loss of his weapon sent a jolt through him, but he didn't falter. The Force was more than a tool for combat—it was his ally, his shield, and his strength.

As the Sith Lord's Genesis blade thrust toward him, aiming for his gut, Gil reacted with instinct and precision. He shifted his body to the side, the strike grazing the edge of his black robes but missing its mark. The heat of the alchemical blade singed the fabric, but Gil remained unscathed. His mechanical right hand shot out, enhanced by the Force, catching the Sith's sword arm at the wrist.

Channeling the Force through his body, Gil surged forward, his left hand striking out in a precise palm strike aimed at the Sith's mask, intending to disorient and create distance between them. As the strike was sent, Gil released the Sith's wrist and pushed off with a backward leap, flipping through the air to land several meters away.

He extended his left hand, calling his saberstaff back to him through the Force. The weapon flew to his grasp, the green blades reigniting with a familiar hum. Gil settled into a defensive stance, his breathing steady, his connection to the Force anchoring him.

"You claim to seek freedom," Gil said, his voice cutting through the din of battle, "but all you've done is shackle yourself to your own hunger. You call me blind, but you're the one who cannot see the truth: your power is hollow. It consumes you, leaving nothing but the void in its place."

He took a step forward, his saberstaff spinning in his hands as he prepared to press the attack again. But this time, he didn't go for brute force. He reached out with the Force, drawing on his connection to the Light, and began to project calm and clarity—not just for himself, but aimed at the Sith. It wasn't a weapon but an attempt to disrupt the cold rage that drove his opponent, to counter the oppressive aura of the dark energy emanating from the Lord of Hunger.

"This ends here," Gil declared, his voice firm. "Whatever knowledge you seek, whatever power you crave—it will not be found here. Let go of your hunger, Sith. Or I will end this fight, one way or another."

The green blades of his saberstaff flared, ready to meet the next move, but his focus was unyielding. Whether through strength, skill, or the resilience of the Light, Gil was determined to stand his ground.

 

[The Red]

"You two fight well together, all things considered."

The Red had dropped the sheath of his blade as he realized Aadhir was going to retreat rather than keep hold of his weapon. Jedi were usually the type to cling far too much to their blades. Experience told much for a Jedi to drop it, to let their trusted Kyber into the hands of their enemy. Azurine however kept the blade from falling into his grasp. Team work, even when filled with heightened emotion. Even when separated by flame.

Good.

He could crush that.

Air trembled as the kick almost hit his neck from the Padawan. The air, the Force. All at once she was frozen, and the pressure around her only increased rapidly. Given just a moment and the red skinned Zabrak would crush her whole body unto itself, but it was a gunshot that shattered his concentration. He fell back from the strike, stumbling as he reached a hand up towards his face, his jaw. A slug. Not just a slug.

A ripper.

Rage seethed through his body. The grin was gone, replaced by a cold, hate filled glare as he turned his gaze to Aadhir. The side of his face, his lower jaw, had been blasted apart by the impact. Pain was nothing new to the Sith Lord, it made him stronger. But the insult? In that moment, the Force screamed of danger. In the next, everything he looked at started to vaporize. At least whatever remained in his gaze.

Aadihr Lidos | Azurine Varek

 

[Azurine Varek]

Together, We Fight As One

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 | Lightsaber 2 | Hook Swords

Before Azurine's foot could connect, in midair, the world suddenly constricted around her. Invisible tendrils of the Force snared her body, freezing her momentum and crushing inward. Her ribs cried out in protest, her vision blurred, and the edges of her thoughts grew dim under the suffocating grip. She couldn't help the echoing scream that ripped from her throat, both from pain and desperation. The Red’s hand was outstretched as he began to close his fingers inch by agonizing inch. Her mind raced, desperate for something to break free. She fought against the crushing force, her muscles straining. Defiance simmered just beneath the surface, but she couldn’t break free.

Then, the sound of a slugthrower blast echoed through the air, sharp and final.

The pressure vanished, and she dropped like a stone, gasping as the ground met her with a harsh, jarring impact. She tumbled, scraping her already burned arm against the uneven surface. She coughed and forced herself to her shaking feet, her vision clearing just enough to catch sight of The Red—his jaw busted—fix his gaze onto Aadihr.

Azzie felt the Force cry out in agony, in a way she had never seen before, and her amethyst eyes went wide. A pure, unfiltered terror down her spine as pieces of debris began to disintegrate, vaporized in a wave... heading straight for him. Time seemed to stretch in that instant, the blaring sounds of the battle fading into the background as a rush of memories of the past surged forward to choke her, unbidden and cruel. Her fists clenched around her weapons, her knuckles losing their color with the act. She couldn't let it happen again. Wouldn't.

Not again. Not him!

Without a second thought, Azzie threw herself forward, her pulse deafening in her ears as she reached out with every ounce of her remaining strength. She didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. Her body was already in motion, desperate to shield Aadihr, desperate to rewrite the fate she had endured before. She felt her heart racing against time, each beat louder than the last as the blast grew nearer, and her body moved with a speed she didn’t know she was capable of. There was no room for fear—just a raw, gut-wrenching need to protect him.

Her own life didn’t matter in that moment, only guarding him.

She blocked the path, the searing heat of its power crashing against her hastily conjured wispy silver Force shield. Sweat beaded on her brow as the shield crackling and buckling under the weight of the dark energy. A sharp, fiery pain lanced across the side of her neck and across part of her chest, the edges of the Sith’s power bleeding through her defenses, scorching her skin like a brand. Staggering but resolute, she tightened her grip on the Blade of Rebellion—which hummed and glowed brightly with the energy it had collected before—channeling everything she had left into the weapon.

"Get back!!!"

With a surge of will, Azzie unleashed the bright glow of the Force Light from the blade, the raw purity of the energy tearing through the Sith’s darkness like dawn breaking a stormy night. It was made that much brighter by the talisman hanging around her neck, a blinding burst of brilliant white light like that of a star swallowing up the unnatural twilight around them.

Aadihr Lidos | The Red​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Field Attire
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike | confiscated slugthrower rifle

Without hesitation Azurine flew at the the sith the moment Aadihr had rolled back, hooking her sword to staff of his pike, still in the Red's grip, and had swung with her momentum into a kick. The kick halted mid-swing.

Aadihr could see the increasing pressure of the dark side of the force crushing Azzie - holding her in place clear of Aadihr's firing line. Time was of the essence; the Sith's goading had momentarily paused and Azzie's strike served as enough of a distraction for Aadihr to line up the trajectory of the Mandalorian ripper to the center of the Sith's conceited skull -

Aadihr hesitate just a moment, not letting his bitterness at the sick Sith's encouragement drive him to murder, even if it could work.

Still - He talks entirely too much for a corpse.

The Miraluka microadjusted his aim at the Red's jaw instead, just clear enough to avoid the brain stem, but punch a hole through one of the mandible's hinges. Grim satisfaction swelled in Aadihr the moment the shot struck true.

I'd love to watch the sith eat his own words but it looks like he'll have a hard time chewing for a while.

Aadihr's schadenfreude halted abruptly as fury and indignation welled in the dark aura, drawing in more of the dark side into the corpse-Zabrak's eyes. Each iris the epicenter of a black-crimson vortex of the force entering in preparation of something terrible. Aadihr's own senses were screaming of danger.

Azurine did something with her sword, causing a light to flash as the darkness reached critical mass, her light feeding with the sword's and the talisman she wore around her neck. Before both forces clashed directly, Aadihr had already dashed back towards the pair, recovering his pike and flicking the Emitter back on, looping the shoulder strap of the slugthrower around his arm, and sliding to a halt opposite Azurine behind the Red; his mind raced, trying to devise a way to save Azurine from her own reckless heroism.

Azurine Varek The Red​

 

[Aris Noble]

He could see them. Blur as they were, as pieced together his eyes and mind tried to follow along, he could still see enough of the Sith Lord's movements to strike back. To deflect, to even strike back out. He could fight this. It wasn't like before, when he and Vera could only run and hope. Aris could see. He could fight. Or so he thought. His blade was caught in the Sith's grasp, it's edge unable to cut through the gauntlet. Sith steel, most likely.

The blade snapped, but rather than stay the hard metal it was it turned to liquid. Folding over itself to reform into the blade as Aris was pushed back. His eyes narrowed as he resettled his stance, about to jump right back in. But the gout of flame brought an unnatural heat he didn't know what to make of. Aris kept back, briefly covering his eyes from the sudden brightness it had. The fire around them, that didn't bother him in the slightest.

Whatever that unnatural flame was did.

The helmet made no sense. He couldn't see how the Sith was going to see through it. The runes flared, but, those didn't let a Sith see through it, did they? No, he'd cut off his sen-

He didn't have a moment to think it through. The red blade came back down, faster this time. Aris winced as he brought his blade up to catch it, deflecting the strike but as soon as he did another came at a different angle. It was different from the strikes before. Unrelenting, fast. Hard. There was a machine level of intensity that he did his best to keep up with, but he couldn't strike back now. Everything was put solely in his defense. It wasn't a battle he was going to win.

He wasn't going to survive.

He gritted his teeth as he swung his blade around to catch another strike, but this time the blade separated. Aris's body could resist the strike of a lightsaber, he knew that much. Surprise was his only weapon right now. The blade separated so it could pass through, reform on the other end of the Sith's saber to strike right for the mask as he took the slash. Clothing burned, but his skin was heated to take the strike, to keep himself from being cut down.

Not that it helped the blunt force behind the strike. He soared back, pain surging in his mind as he hit into one of the ships. Metal crumbled under him before he pulled himself free of it, wincing. No cuts, but he could feel the deep bruises. Bruises that were already healing.

Jonyna Si | Darth Carnifex | Domina Prime