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

[The Red]

These little chits.

He hated Mandalorians. Their guns, their people, their stupid armor. Everything about them was so damn extra. And now Jedi were using their rippers? The audacity. It only pissed him off more as the girl got between him and the Miraluka he so despised now. Forming some sort of barrier like it'd stop his hate from devouring them all- His thought process shattered under the sudden flash of light. Anger flared through his mind as he felt his vision crack and fade.

He could see nothing. And for a moment, he could feel nothing. That damned Jedi trick. The light faded, and so too his his gaze and the destruction it brought. There was a pause, a moment of recouperation as the flash of light worked it's way past him. Then he moved. Blind as he might be, he'd never once needed his eyes to strike down those he hated. They just made it easier.

Healer first, he'd said. He was upon Azurine, his blade striking right down towards her in a single, quick slash. It was bait, of course. She was weakened, but the healer wasn't. He'd strike, and the moment he would the Red's blade would turn to strike him instead.

Azurine Varek | Aadihr Lidos

 

[Phaelissia]

Location: Capital City - Eiattu 6
Objective: Annihilate GA Citadel Command Personnel
Tag: Tarw Rhyfelwr

Phaelissia’s hyper-augmented reflexes kicked into overdrive as a rush of sensor data filtered into her enhanced mind. Said information immediately clued the Cipher agent into the ion grenade as it sailed over her cover, moving in slow motion within her perception as her cybernetics eyes tracked the incoming threat.

Extending her left arm, a shockwave exploded out from the palm of Phaelissia’s hand, sending the grenade flying off-course before it detonated a few meters away.

All the while, incoming fire pelted against the armored vehicle Phaelisia was utilizing as cover. Small arms fire would do little to degrade the reinforced hull, but the Cipher agent knew that she could not remain behind the vehicle for much longer. The troopers knew her position and thus, they had free reign to do whatever they wished.

Unless she could turn the tide.

Activating her personal concealment system, Phaelissia’s form flickered into imperceptibility as she maneuvered around to the opposite side of the armored vehicle during a lapse in fire. In doing so, the Cipher agent moved towards the flanks of the two troopers who were positioned on the street, before suddenly disabling her concealment as she primed her electricity projector implants.

Almost immediately, Phaelissia struck her left hand out towards the two troopers 12 meters away from her position, and out from the tips of her manicured fingers erupted two instantaneous shots of crackling electricity that raced towards the heavy trooper’s upper chest in a branching, coruscating pattern. Should they connect, the electricity might not only inflict grievous electrical burns, but it also carried kinetic force enough to potentially blow targets apart through violent waves of overpressure. In that, the Cipher agent anticipated that the electricity might jump from one target to another, to affect both troopers at once.

If she was lucky, she might take out two troopers in a single attack.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Frostfire Azalea
  
  • Arms
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Gauntlet Vibroblade - R
  • FAE/A-07 Energized Neck Piece
    
    • FAE/S-12 “Dream Sight” Combat Sensor System Mk. II
      
      • Updated Version
    • FAE/S-11 Universal Communication Matrix
      
      • Replacement for C-3a “Mercury” Communications Suite
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
  • Boots
    
    • FAE/A-14 Energized Foot Gear
      
      • Jetboot Thrusters Removed
      • Replacement for B-11 “Gretis” Class Combat Boots
• Freezing Fates
• Purifying Lash
• Sonic Detonator

 

[Chasianna]

Location: Northern Forests - Eiattu 6
Objective: Assassinate the Jedi Ambassador
Tag: Roman Vossari

Chasianna spared only a quick glance towards the wounded form of the Ithorian ambassador. That, and nothing more. The short-statured acolyte knew that it would be prudent to avoid directly tipping off the Ambassador’s bodyguard to the exact purpose of her mission, even though she sensed that he likely already knew what she was here for. Nevertheless, she could not help but to crack a smile after the bodyguard gave his warning, a series of playful, girlish giggles fluttering from her concealed lips as her cyan-hued eyes lit up with equal parts excitement and coquettish mischief.

“Walk away and avoid further conflict? Be careful what you ask for, Jedi.” Chasianna purred. Suddenly, the acolyte’s tiny form faded from view as the dark side flowed through her essence, rendering her form as shadow. At the same time, her signature on the environment and within the Force itself became akin to that of a single molecule, leaving negligible trace or sign of her presence.

With only a few notable exceptions.

“I too would love to avoid more conflict.” Her singsong soprano echoed out from seemingly all directions, as if it were emanating from one place, and then another. “So what if I told you of a plan I have to make it so that fighting would be pointless.” She continued. “There can finally be peace between our orders.” She added, her tone laced with mischief and mockery, at which point the piping notes of her playful laughter seemed to dance out from the surrounding forest.

All the while, the acolyte began to slowly move closer to her target. Indeed, she hoped that her objective could be achieved without further conflict. While Chasianna was gifted with alchemically-engineered strength and speed, the bodyguard was bigger and better-armored than her. A standup fight would be dangerous and could go either way.

If she could instead keep the bodyguard distracted while she moved under concealment, Chasianna intended to swipe her blade across the Ambassador’s throat before either of the two could react.

At that point, her mission would be complete and further conflict would indeed be pointless.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Shell Spider Silk Sith Robes with Synth-Leather Gloves, Boots, and Banded Belt -
  
  • Atmosphere Mask
  • Gauntlets
    
    • Gauntlet Comp - R
      
      • Loaded with FAE/S-11 Universal Communication Matrix
  • Utility
    
    • FAE/C-05 Infiltration Suite
    • Fibercord Grappling Hook / Liquid-cable Launcher
    • Aqua Breather
    • Glowrod
    • "PureSucculent" Filtration Straw
    • Energy Capsules
    • Spare Filters
    • Water Canteens
  • Boots
    
    • FAE/A-14 Energized Foot Gear
      
      • Jetboot Thrusters Removed
• Fuchsia Edge (2)

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Objective 3 //: Take over the Citadel //:
//: Silas Westgard //:
//: Attire //:

Quinn was colored in surprise. The troops had easily turned on their near-dead and weak. She had hoped the Jedi would surprise her, that they would have tried to break the spell their comrades were under. Instead, killing and destroying was the choice they made. Once more, the Jedi was worse than the Sith, which only solidified her thoughts of their government manipulating her sister. Still, the soldiers marched forward and fired upon their former comrades. Quinn pulled their strings, using the Force to protect them from the pain they were feeling. In their minds, they were experiencing a beautiful illusion. It was the least she could do, for the horror she was making their realities.

Moving behind them, the Puppet Master continued to weave the threads of their fate. Through the ears of her puppets, she caught the words the Jedi spoke to his troops. The men and women who stood beside him followed blindly without question.

Her lips moved, but the voices of the mind controlled spoke for her. "Jedi." They said as they blasted and stampeded up towards the gates, hoping to overwhelm the troops. Each time one fell, they rose again under the woman's control. "Would you rather kill your comrades than try and save them? I can't mind controlling the dead - just the living and weak." In her mind, she hoped he would do the good thing; Quinn wanted to have faith in the light side of the Force. Her sister clung to it so tightly she wanted to know why.

"Are you going to come face me alone?" She asked with a smile. It would be easier if he came and faced her; she would let the wounded fall, allowing them to succumb to death's release. "Tell me what you fear, Jedi. Is it death? Is it the loss of your friends? Is it being alone?" Her words continued to be spoken by the mind controlled as they marched forward. The eyes of hundreds allowed her to see Silas' movements; through them, she was able to focus on bombarding his mind with the weight of the nightmares of the dying. Through the Force, she attempted to force their pain into his mind, to face the death horrors they were facing.

"Can you feel it? The cold clutch of death reaching for you? They trusted you, they followed you, and all they have is me to usher them into the afterlife." She stopped where she stood and arms raised, which caused each of the controls to turn their guns on themselves. "Call back your troops, let them care for the dead and dying, and face me alone, Jedi - if you're not scared. I'll release them back into your care so that they can live and survive this war."

Tilting her head, she stared in the direction Silas was standing, moving. "If you don't, I'll kill them individually." If he didn't take her seriously, she found the one that wouldn't make it. The man was already bleeding out, his body already screaming to finally rest. His gun turned on himself, the barrel pointed to his chest, over his heart. In his mind, he was returning home. Surrounded by loved ones and happiness. The reality he lived in his mind was a long life, free from pain and war. In his old age, the man would die in his mind, while in his actual reality, he fired a single blaster shot to his chest. The man fell to his knees, finally released from the woman's hold. Looking at Silas, he gasped one last time and bled out.

"Do they all have to have this fate, Jedi?"

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

The cacophany of cheers behind him were the only encouragement he required, pulling himself forward it was a careful dance, he was the flagbearer, and the flagbearer was most often the one to die, and whatever the outcome of today, he would not die. The red plasma hissed, as the blue bolt travelled down its blade, before being deflected back towards some bombed out ruin. A careful dance, one to move to preserve oneself, and the other to be the beacon that pushed them ever forward. They were to be the wave that broke and scattered all who faced them, not the wave which struck and broke against their sandbanks.

Yet, it was a careful dance for much another reason, the air was pictured in tones of blacks and red, the colours of the Sith marched alongside them in all of their conquests, yet, though he charged forth vaingloriously into the head of all which would come, this battle would not be his to lead, Lieutenant Vex would bring them to victory, or he would bring them to defeat, but in either outcome.

Malum would not allow their banner to fall.

The Force pulsed around him, sending any that approached him skittering to the ground, any that stood from his weak pulses were soon after cut down, their grunts and shouts their last as those of the uniforms of the Galactic Alliance were felled around him, their wounds freshly cauterised by red plasma sheen, as he acted as the speartip, breaking through the line, and allowing the floodgates to open.

His ears protested the explosion above him, his eyes steeled, gazing upon the munitions aimed for his heart, but having burned up by the will of another.

Eyes turning towards, his ever dutiful shield, as Malum sidestepped another shot aimed for him, and found himself taking over behind some debris blown out from some building, eyes flicking towards the one whom Kadann had identified. Watching, as they speared through one of his men, the facismile of the old armour worn by those who had been led by an ancient Marr into battle, some thousands of years ago, falling into the dirt and grime of this new battlefield.

At any other time, Malum might have deigned the challenge with the attention it deserved... alas, he sensed the presence of another foe.

One whom he had faced on a battlefield long ago, gazing upwards, and seeing shields begin to form, the wind fluttering against the banner he held, as he knew his destination of where to plant it.

"Alas, it would seem that my opponent is up there, I am confident you will be able to handle this trifle?" The masked Dark Councillor asked his newest High Inquisitor, as another emerged to his side, one who drew a smile beneath his mask, "I am glad you have made it Darth Diem, continue your assault, I am sure Lieutenant Vax will have need of your services, I shall call for you should I require your assistance."

He and Trayze had lost to the duo of the Sword and Shield of the Jedi once upon Yavin, yet, they were seperated now, and though that battle on Yavin had proved that distance was no obstacle, while seperated now, while their lines were stretched.

Cut off the head, and else would follow.

Blossoming out of darkness, a raven burst forth out of his hand, of quotidian night, taking purchase into the air, a second pair of eyes overlooked the devastation of the city below, and flapping through the air, feathered wings flew through the shields which though protected from blaster and artillery fire, let in all else.

He saw them.

A tower of a man, surrounded by giants greater than him, soldiers stood abreast... and a familiar figure with a lightsabre too... familiar not out of knowing... but familiar out of appearance.

A second's hesistation paused his heart.

And in the next second, as the bird flew overhead, he who once stood behind cover, was gone.

Emerging out of darkness, a black armoured figure, encrusted with shimmering rubies, revealed himself, his mask hiding his face, yet, long raven locks, framed his face, as he stood, with his Sith Sword drawn, red plasma pulsing down its pinnacle.

His masked attention was fixed upon the once Zambrano.

"...There is little chance I can convince you to withdraw, is there?" Malum questioned, drawing his blade to face his foes, their numbers would mean little, his claw like hand palmed open towards their faces, his voice gripped with the ghost of a smile.

Kadann Omon Kaa / Darth Diem Kahlil Noble Vera Noble
Mentioned: Valery Noble Trayze Tesar Sazo Vass Reicher Vax

 

[Credius Nargath]

As the saberstaff got pulled from the Jedi's hand, the Lord of Hunger believed his work to be done, only to see the young man expertly weave himself in such a way that the monster's Genesis blade only ripped through mere fabric and cloth worn by the Jedi. It was annoying and rather tiresome to be facing such a slippery foe, but the Lord of Hunger at the very least silently admitted that such skills were a strength in itself as well.

The rather quick strike to the side of his mask was enough to stun Credius for enough time it seemed for the Jedi to create some distance, with the abomination reaching for the side of his mask and look at the Jedi with a bit of momentary confusion, feeling a crack had appeared within the mask's exterior where the palm of Gil's hand had connected with it. "Hmm, little pest."

As Gil seemed to regain his bearings and had recalled his saberstaff, the abomination let out a deep sigh, as if he was getting a bit frustrated for some reason, trying to hold himself back was tiresome after all, but a necessity for someone with his affliction. While Credius did feed quite regularly, keeping his body at the very least in a state where he could still maintain a modicum of his power and maintain physical stability, allowing the primal urges within him to be unleashed would make him far more dangerous, but it would also be annoying for the Lord of Hunger if he had to explain himself after having lost control.

Hearing the Jedi talk about having shackled himself to his hunger, the monster lifted his chin, his head tilting backwards as he seemed to give the illusion of looking down upon the jedi. "It is the result of altruism, the curse of thinking about another rather than myself. You think I do not curtail my hunger, I do not curtail my desire? My power is not this hunger, but my will. My will to deny my baser instincts to take control, my will to keep on moving even when my body is decaying faster than a heap of bantameat in the tattooine suns. I will not be..."

A calm seemed to begin to get over him, a sense of tranquility and peace, it was a strange and somewhat unsettling feeling for the Lord of Hunger, who had felt none of those things for quite some time, having been led by his baser instincts too many times whenever he felt such sensations, but this was different, it was as if for a moment, he couldn't feel the gnawing of the hunger within his soul, as if he couldn't feel the unending pain of his body rotting and decaying continuously. If he had been any lesser Sith, this amount of strength within the force would have been enough to remove any desire, any lust for battle from his very soul, but what the Jedi did in this case was perhaps a very wrong move...

"Nice try...you nearly had me," A cold shudder ran through the air, almost as if something flashfroze the surroundings, while a creeping darkness began to be expelled from the Lord of Hunger, a shadow slowly growing underneath him, as if to anticipate what was coming, for if Jedi wielded hope, inner peace and the light, the Sith hold mastery over despair, inner turmoil and the darkness. Oppressive and cold were the right words to describe the Sith lord's aura, but perhaps one thing more important, was that with most Sith Lords this aura was a passive thing, something they exuded and which Jedi picked up naturally through their connection with the force. However, now Credius focused on those feelings of cold rage and unbridled darkness, exponentially increasing the very power of his aura by pouring his own will into it, his own hunger...the very void which the Jedi mentioned would now become as obvious as day and night for all to see. "Struggle with all your might, but remember that you aren't the only one on this battlefield... the more you prevent me from doing my duty, the more frustration I get to deal with and the stronger my desire to drain every living thing on this damn planet."

As his aura began to reach its peak, the darkness nearly seeming to swallow the Lord of Hunger himself, the monster's free hand moved towards the edge of his Genesis blade, cutting with it into his own hand, his black blood sticking to the blade while the tips of his fingers crackled with energy, ancient runes shimmering on the blade as from the monster's fingertips lightning began to erupt and channeled seemingly around the blade for a mere milisecond, until the Lord of Hunger would slam the blade into the ground, unleashing a shockwave that seemed to dispell his own darkness for a moment, a moment in time long enough to feel something much, much worse would be coming.

Lightning suddenly erupted from the blade in multiple directions, coursing in unorthodox paths through the air, arcing wildly and seeking out its targets through the force itself, a few Galactic Alliance Soldiers here, an unexpecting jedi padawan there, a Commando and even another Sith, those who were unlucky to be close enough to the epicenter where the targets. However, one thing was clear, as the network of lightning spread out, so too seemed the Lord of Hunger's aura, regaining not just its strength, but also increasing in density as it started to spread outwardly at a rapid pace.

"Time for you to understand when it is a better option to surrender or flee...young Jedi."


TAG: Gil Horn

 

[Azurine Varek]

Together, We Fight As One

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

The skin on the side of Azurine's shoulder and chest blustered, flaked away almost like ash. The pain seared through her nerves. Her breath hitched in her throat, the fear of what had just been used against them—that had once been overridden by her desperation to protect Aadihr—slammed full force into her gut. It had cracked through her shield within seconds, and had it not been for her quick thinking and the sword she'd been given, no amount of protection would have saved them from it.

The sweat that dripped down her face mixed with the dirt and blood on her skin, trailing in discolored tracks as the burst of starlight faded outward until it was gone. Her body felt stiff with exhaustion, but she refused to let herself collapse. She was not yet at her breaking point.

She, like The Red, was an Iridonian, after all. Even if she was small compared to other Zabrak women, she still had the physical resilience of her people.

Azzie wasn't planning on giving the Sith a chance to recover from the blinding, leaping forward with her lightsaber and hooksword in each hand and a flourish of swings. It wouldn't take much for him to come back at her, and even then, she hadn't been fast enough in her state to hit while he was still disoriented. The visions of the strike he planned flashed before her eyes, and in that moment, knowing she would be unable to completely avoid or fully block it, she decided to use his bait against him. She knew the best thing that she could do was to keep him in place, or at least delay him, long enough for Aadihr to make a move from his position behind.

Her body shifted slightly, not enough to fully evade his sword, but enough that it wouldn't be the end of her when it landed. His sword came down across her chest with an accompanying sharp sting. As it did, she moved to position the back of her mechanical arm—which was coated in cortosis—in the way of its continued path downward while moving to hook the curved end of her hook sword across his wrist.

All this with the intent of locking his blade arm in place.

Azzie's violet eyes looked up to his dark crimson, now that she could do so without being disintegrated, a hint of that Iridonian blood lust sparking through them alongside the her fierce defiance and fear.

Aadihr Lidos | The Red​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

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

"Azzie get back!" Aadihr growled - the foolish, brave, protective girl was getting hurt, and to save him. It was his duty to protect her, even if her Iridonian mind only thinks in offence. She had saved them both, and he couldn't let her die for it.

Aadhir knew this signalled his intent to intervene, but if he had to pull rank to get the Padawan out of here safe he would. Valery Noble would never forgive him for getting a Padawan of hers killed.

Aadihr lept forth, finding his his typical weakness with Force empowerment strangely lifted - was it because he moved to protect her, because of the strange way he could feel her in his mind? Or was it pent up fury fueling him, darkness promising him power denied his whole life?

His spite, his pent up anger at warlords and their sycophants told him to stab this Zabrak corpse in the spine.

No.

As he soared through the air towards the conflict, Aadihr walled off the heat of past - mind serene, senses in the present.

Azurine had to get away, at least long enough to catch her breath if not to retreat and heal. Aadihr had to make himself too harmful to ignore. To the Sith's ego, not his body; to become a insult to this Sith's very purpose. The Ripper's shot seemed to interrupt the Red's composure. Aadihr would tear at that hate, wound his pride and ego. It may just empower the sith, but blind rage was at least more honest than the pretense of violence as art.

"Your thrill seeking is inane"

Aadihr feinted as if going for the kill shot, instead shutting off his emitter at the last second and extending his leg into a flying heel-kick at the back of the Red's knee, one hand reaching to grab the top of his head by the Zabrak horns, and the disabled pike's phrik prepared to fend a counter attack - or jab roughly into the Sith's kidney if ignored.

"You fight because you lack anything else to give your existence meaning anymore."

Aadihr let a new emotion pass through the serenity of his focus. Empathy, compassion. Pity, even. A tumultuous raging soul like this sith has finally had a chance to be at rest, to experience peace that probably eluded him from birth as a Zabrak. To be pulled from the peaceful stillness after a life of conflict only to serve another's machinations in that same tumult once more; it made Aadihr's sinuses twitch with secondhand grief.

Deeper within, the hateful, spiteful core in Aadihr revelled at the chance to get under the Sith's skin, but Aadihr held it deep with in, walled off. He could hold both empathy and contempt in his heart, a contradiction like any other.

"In truth, I pity you." Aadihr spoke honestly.

The Sith's counterattack came, Aadihr's staff defense wasn't going to be enough to emerge unscathed, but he would meet it with serenity in his heart, knowing he did all he could to protect Azurine.

Azurine Varek The Red​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery's smirk deepened as she stepped back into a ready stance, her violet blade humming steadily in her grasp. The sight of Dacian discarding his tattered robes and adjusting into a Jar'Kai stance was not one she took lightly. Her fiery amber eyes studied him, assessing his every movement, the subtle shifts in his posture, the gleam of exhilaration in his crimson gaze.

As he complimented her skill, Valery's expression softened slightly, though her tone remained skeptical, "Respect from a Sith? I feel blessed today."

She lowered her stance slightly, her lightsaber angled with precision, a predator's poise ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. "I can tell this fight excites you," she continued, her voice steady and calm despite the storm of energy that radiated from her. "And I'll admit… there's a certain thrill in testing yourself against a worthy opponent."

The fiery glint in her eyes burned brighter, the connection she felt with the Force sharpening every sense. She took a slow step forward, the ground beneath her seeming to pulse with the energy she channeled. The air around them grew taut, heavy with the anticipation of their next clash.

"But don't think for a second that I fight to make this exciting," she warned, her voice dropping into a more serious tone. "Whatever enjoyment I take from this duel, it doesn't change my purpose."

Valery raised her free hand slightly, the Force rippling outward in a subtle but undeniable shift as she prepared herself for the storm to come. Her lips curled into a faint smile, one that carried both respect and an edge of fierce determination.

"Let's not keep that excitement waiting, shall we?"

Darth Dacian ​

 

[Roman Vossari]

Tags: Chasianna

​

Roman's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the lightsaber hilt as the pale figure seemed to dissolve into the very shadows around them. Her mocking laughter, echoing from all directions, grated on his nerves. This wasn't a battle of blades, it was a psychological game, and Roman found himself at a disadvantage. He stepped forward slowly, his senses straining, reaching out with the Force to grasp at any trace of her presence. But it was like trying to catch smoke, her signature reduced to a faint whisper, almost nonexistent.

"Come out already…" Roman growled, his teeth gritted in frustration. He swiped his lightsaber through the air, the cyan blade cutting a swathe through the forest, a desperate attempt to hit anything, anything at all. He couldn't focus, she was playing him, toying with him.

He knew that she was closer than he thought, he could feel her, but she was not there, nor was she here, she was everywhere, and yet nowhere. He took another step forward, trying to anticipate her movements, to find her weakness and protect the man behind him. This wasn't just about him anymore, and he would be a failure if he let this assassin win. A Padawan wasn't ready for this.

"Roman…" Ambassador Tahn's weak voice called out from behind, pulling Roman's attention away from the swirling darkness. He whirled around, his heart sinking at the sight of Tahn's face. The Ambassador's gaze was fixed on the distance, as if he was looking through the trees, into the darkness, and not on Roman. Tahn's features were etched with a stark, chilling dread that mirrored the icy fear that had begun to creep into Roman's own heart.

His eyes snapped back toward Roman, wide with horror, and before he could issue a warning, Roman saw it - that look, the impending doom, a dark and malicious shadow moving behind him.

 

[Omon Kaa / Darth Diem]

He stood motionless, as the echoes of war raged around them. Once Lord Inquisitor gave his orders, Omon didn't waste much time.. His left knee arched, as his body started to lower in to a half-kneeling position.

"It will be done, Lord Inquisitor." .. and second as the words have been spoken, he used his kneeling position to force-propel himself in a distant leap backwards. Disappearing from the site like a shadow in the night.

He landed on the path toward last known location of the young progeny Legionnaire, Lieutenant Vex. He evaded Sith troopers, crumbled buildings and enemy fire, by flash-stepping to sides, and even occasionally using walls to run across. He had to stay in shadows, and not be engaged by anyone who would slow him down.
For this, was more important to Omon, then helping even certain Sith. His stance on, imperative for strong and smart officers, was widely known.

As the objects turned to blurs more and more, as his speed was picking up, he used his personal com link signal, to contact the two Shikkar Corvette, which he ordered to stay behind.
"SK-1149, copy?"

"SK-1149 reporting, master! Over" pilots voice responded immediately.

"I need all the recent com-chatter from Lieutenant Reicher Vax , and I need it stat.." as he relay the command his speed upgraded for a bit again.

After turning a sharp corner, he was suddenly running in to two Alliance soldiers. He did felt the presence, but he did not imagine there would be any enemies here, not after their Legion marched through here.
Must have been a stranded soldiers, who hid until the troops pass.

He could see the fear in their eyes, they widened like eggs, with mouth open and blaster rifles pointed at the ground. But he could also sense their fear. An intoxicating aroma, which almost boost his energy levels.

He couldn't let them fire those blaster rifles, or scream for help. Bogan knows how many more are hidden around the rubble.
Force use was too slow for this, lightsaber as well, for he would have to dispatch them one at the time..

Their shaky forearms started to raise, pointing in to his legs at that moment, but with intent of moving upward, toward the center body mass.

"..ok.. I guess that will work" he thought to himself, as each hand grabbed a hilt of vibroblade. Then force-jumped forward, his forearms extending to side, while his body hazed as a dark heat wave beside the two men.

Enemy rifles fell from their hands, two crimson fountains opening up on the sides of their necks, with plasma spraying each soldier until they were completely red.

Omon was at the end of the long passage, when their bodies hit the floor.

"Master, copy. Sending the recording of the latest transmissions and location, of Legionnaire Vex!" his boys send him the data fast.
He ran while listening.

"Alright, listen to me carefully.."

________________________________


At the Landing Site 31..

Brave Sith Troopers stood pinned down by an overwhelming enemy fire, fire from a heavy duty weapons.

Above them, unknown to anyone, two cloaked Shikkara corvette moved slowly and quietly. Like the Shriek Hawks, flying over their pray.
But in this case, hawks had both pray, and their 'foundlings' to protect.

Not wanting to risk frequency discovery, Omon couldn't let Vex know about the ships presence. But they he know soon enough.

The heavy and powerful Tiger walker, slowly moved forward, and fired a usual anty personal cannon at the Legionnaires position.
But at first it seemed as though the hit was stopped by air itself.. until the cracking sound of electricity, didn't start to reveal Shikkara corvette, positioned sideways across the whole length of the covered soldiers. Her shields were on the max.

Thus, sadly, it couldn't fire.

At the same time. a barrage of 6 turbo-blaster cannons started to fire from mid air, just to the left of the Tiger. Once the first blaster fired, the cloaking mechanics stopped working, and second Corvette appeared. Its 6 powerful blasters hit the joints of heavy walkers legs, making it tip over to the side.

The rest of the firepower, 12 Defense Lasor Cannons, started to blast any enemy infantry on the ground.

Darth Diem stood on the firing ship, observing the situation from above. As the second volley was being prepared, he jumped to the ruined building next to him, then force skip down to the barricaded troops.

6 turbo-lasers fired again in to the Tiger, rendering it completely immobile. But the fierce machine and its crew continued blasting, from the ground, in to the only direction they could, forward. In to the shield-up ship that was covering the Sith Troopers.

As the same time, one of the smaller walkers hit the ship that was orbiting the battlefield, for its shields were down. It rear end got seriously damaged, but the Shikkara continue firing at the both walkers and snipers on the buildings and ground.

Omon didn't like the progression of this.
"SK-1150, enough! Pull yourself to safety. I rather want to have you later, then non at all. You did enough." ..without any commlink confirmation, the Shikkara started to speed out in to the cover of the buildings, while firing last barrage of the 6 turbo lasers, and blowing one of the smaller walkers apart.
She got hit one more time while flying away, but made it out whole.

The one who was guarding the Sith Soldiers with its massive hull, and its strong shields, still stood firm. Taking enemy fire.

The Sith found the young Lieutenant, and in show of respect for his military prowess, Omon hit his chest with his first..
"For the Empire! Lieutenant. I am High Inquisitor Darth Diem, it is good meeting you.
Lord inquisitor sends me to lend some aid. From the messages I heard, this is the fastest thing I could have come up with, to give you some breathing room." he pointed toward the ship shielding them, and the two walkers downed.

"But this Shikkara cannot stand the barrage for much longer. I was thinking that we use this to flank them through these rubble patches around us, while the corvette is covering us. Your troopers provinding supressive fire, to blind those snipers. Also, I could lead using my force sensitivity." Omon said with serious, yet polite tone. Like he is a guest, at someone else's conquering party.

"But as a pragmatist, I will defer to your plan, since you are the soldier." Omon's masked face observed the young trooper, while the explosions made their silhouettes dance, from the light's constant birth and death.

"I think there is about 60 more seconds till the next orbital bombardment" ..he said to to his ship crew, so they know they got to bolt out of there before that. And to Lieutenant as well.

Darth Malum of House Marr Reicher Vax Ashley Nevermore ​

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Outfit:
Belt of Strength, Field Com-Scan Link, Well Worn Boots,
Custom Rakghoul Flight-suit and Helmet
Weal & Woe

Western Flank of Eiattu 6
Defending Sith Order Blockade
Co-pilot: Micah tol Powl
Squad: Haro Aven Kyorra Pavanos
Opposition @ Same Objective: Ko Vuto 17-KR7 "Enigma"

Permission for Ship Linked Here

​

"Yeah, formation's tight, I've got my eyes peeled."

"Copy, Ky," he affirmed with a shortening of her name, as he so often did with peers.

Then the sassy new kid spoke up, and to make matters worse Micah said he liked him. Not to Haro Aven directly, in fact he didn't seem to recall who the new guy was, but still. The banter and teen angst combined with battle-lust to create a dynamic where Naami was hyper aggressive at the first sign of enemy combatants.

"Haro," he barked both in answer to Micah's query and in presumption of command, "Engage, but stay on your toes."

The zabrak pushed the interceptor as he vied to take point, not yet edging the agile little craft into an acceleration burst, but ensuring he had the best chance at first blood. Naami decided to start simple with concussion missiles, leaning in where unbeknownst to him one of his wingmates was tempted to pull away. The reticule soon flashed and he led his shots with an estimate of the opposition's trajectory, factoring in whatever data his co-pilot fed him. They were soon properly engaged in a dogfight on one edge of the massive blockade, still away from some of the heaviest action but the heat was rising.

Using the ship's impressive speed and maneuverability, Naamino practically danced the fittingly named "Ballerina" just out of range of a few near misses and ensured that other close calls were mere glancing blows. In a spin to re-orient formation and take stock of enemy starfighters, he fired off another series of shots- two of which properly connected with the wing of an enemy ship. A ship that had perhaps already taken damage but that he was eager to count amongst his kills. The zabrak gritted his teeth and allowed himself a triumphant "hah" of released breath before pulling back on the speed a bit to properly register what entered his field of view next.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Allies: Ashley Nevermore | Vera Noble
Enemies: Darth Malum of House Marr | Reicher Vax | Phaelissia | Omon Kaa / Darth Diem

"You're the one attacking, Dark Councilor. Don't try to take the high ground now." A calm smile remained on the Shield's face as he saw the ravens descend through the shield. A murder wasn't something many openly disguised themselves as. Or was he simply hiding in the flock? It didn't matter one way or another to Kahlil. His gaze shifted to Vera, giving her a single nod.

For now, he would handle the Sith who'd come through. Keep them busy, from affecting the shield keeping so many safe.

"Shall we begin? You didn't bring your side kick this time, so perhaps you'll be able to keep up." The Force flared around the Jedi Master, the runes along his skin burning and glowing in preparation. He could feel Valery Noble across the battlefield, in her own fight, using their Dyad to strengthen herself. He was going to do the same.

"Either way, no excuses."

 

[The Red]

She really was stubborn.

The Red certainly gave her credit for it. Azurine, the Padawan that could. She cut up, she tried to strike back at him, lure him into something- Ah. The old Cortosis lining trick. He barked out a laugh, which sounded guttural and broken considering his jaw, as the saber edge flickered out. It did nothing to the Sith Steel behind it though. Heavy steel.

Charged ever with lightning.

He dropped his blade as he let it erupt with the lightning stored within. And rather than strike, he raised both hands. The one Azurine hooked towards her, the other towards Aadihr. The Knight was indeed going to try and protect the Padawan. It was clever, the lengths he would go. Insults to try and catch his attention, his focus. If only the Red could respond.

Have to get that fixed up soon.

The Force unleashed then. Twin gouts of flame, a deep purple in color. He couldn't handle two strikes like this on each side, so why not blow them away? The flame burned hot, to disorient really. It was the blast behind it to knock both Azurine and Aadihr away that mattered most. He wanted space, and he'd make the Force give it.

Azurine Varek | Aadihr Lidos

 

[Alicio Organa]

Eiattu VI
Unremarkable Abandoned Street, Outside the Palace Landing Strip
- Darth Imperius - Eloise Dinn -​

Alicio set a cautious foot behind him, letting the toe of his boot scrape across a fine layer of dust on the ground. That was his line. He wouldn't retreat across it until he'd bought enough time, or...

Well, or the other thing.

Their opponent was quick, closing the blocks of distance with relative ease, before cutting short, and peppering them with shrapnel and shards of duracrete. The masked form of Alicio didn't flinch as it broke upon Eloise's protections, instead retracting his hand from his cape, a dark, cylindrical shape obscured within his grasp.

The Sith brought cold with him. Alicio had tasted cold before, remembered the pain of frost cracking his fingertips. He faced it head-on, particulates in the air pulsing as the Force gathered around him, the blue of his helm's eyes glinting with unseen knowledge. Challenge accepted.

A blade of soft blue and violent black erupted from his hand. It was held lightly, almost carelessly to his side, but a discerning eye would see the poise in his stance, the experience in the way he angled his feet. "Surrender."

Alicio fought to keep the bleak smirk from his tone. They all knew what good that word would do.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

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

A crack of lightning and a precognitive flash of danger was the only warning before the flash of flame blinded Aadihr's force sight - which he barely Deflected away from himself using the hand with which he meant to grab the Red.

A blast of the force tossed him away from the Red in mid-air, completely reversing the Jedi's trajectory forcefully, a jarring motion back and only stopped with a slam of his spine into the wall. The wind was knocked from his lungs as he gathered his senses to spot Azurine's location.

This was not sustainable, Aadihr would have to trust that they had bought enough time. Azurine's wounds stirred emotion in Aadihr's chest. He pulled himself up to his knees with the help of his staff and mustered all the force into his muscles that he could manage - more that before but still well below average. He pushed off the ground from the three points of contact, soaring his charred form between Azurine and The Red, sliding to an abrasive stop on his shoulder beside her.

Aadihr flooded himself out of both hands, feeding life force from himself into Azurine and preparing his other hand towards the Red, creating a barrier as best he could around himself and Azurine. The barrier was thin, weak. Another failing of his, unable to utilize the force as any proper Jedi should.

No - that was the voice of his master speaking. He could do this; the barrier just needed to buy enough time to heal Azurine for a retreat.

Time was something he didn't have.

The Red | Azurine Varek​

 

[Vera Noble]

Eiattu

​

Tag: Kahlil Noble Darth Malum of House Marr

Vera's emerald blade hummed steadily in her hand, casting a vibrant glow that danced across the shadows of the battlefield. Her amber eyes flicked from the imposing Dark Councillor to her father, Kahlil, as the tension in the air became almost tangible. The Force surged around her father, a tidal wave of power that seemed to ripple through the very fabric of the battlefield. It was awe-inspiring — a presence so vast and unwavering that it made the dark tendrils of the Sith's aura seem like mere shadows in comparison.

For a moment, Vera could only watch him, her heart swelling with pride and determination. She had grown up knowing her parents were among the most powerful and influential Jedi alive, but seeing her father like this — calm, commanding, and radiating strength in the face of such darkness — made her realize just how much she still had to learn. It was that calm that inspired her more than whatever power she felt from either of them.

"I'm with you, Dad," Vera said firmly, her voice carrying across the battlefield. Her usual playful demeanor was replaced with the sharp edge of focus, and her gaze locked onto the Dark Councillor with unwavering confidence.

She shifted her stance, her connection to the Force deepening as she prepared to support her father. She wasn't here to overshadow him — she couldn't, even if she tried — but she could be the support he needed. Her role was clear in her mind: anticipate, react, and strengthen him when the battle called for it.

Vera's free hand extended slightly, her senses spreading outward to monitor the movements of the Sith forces around them. She wasn't just fighting alongside her father; she was watching his back, ensuring nothing unexpected could disrupt the flow of battle. Together, they would be unstoppable.

​

 

[Raphael Gallustrade]

Open and running around

With what little Raphael could do, he was freeing small pockets of soldiers that had been in either a fighting retreat or surrounded. He stopped to take a bit of a breather and sheathed his blade. Ten squads, but even then that was barely five people a squad... Things like this weren't sustainable, in the long haul. He could still feel the combat erupting everywhere. Light and dark side clashed again and again.

A bolt of red lightning streaked through the sky and struck a convoy, heading through the area. The explosion was intense, and he was nearly sent off his feet, even barely deflecting a bolt with tutaminis. That one still stung. The power and force behind it was immense, and it was different than even Adeline's had been. Perhaps the was the one thing he didn't like about fighting sith, that he always found himself comparing how they fought to his old master. The solution would be simple, of course, he just needed to not think about it, but that was a very difficult thing.

He was glad that he never fought any sith that he recognized... Fighting Revna, for instance, would've been very hard, or even Falentra, for that matter... Revna had felt like a kindred spirit, someone who would've enjoyed learning and studying just for the sake of studying. Falentra... Well, she'd been Nouqai, until she became a sith. Fighting either of them would've been hard. He'd do it, but he wouldn't have liked it.

Each explosion of power, or burst of light, only made him wonder if they had any orders. He could keep fighting till he was exhausted, after all, but that would only make him either an easy target for capture or to be killed. He'd prefer neither option, realistically... He'd have to find some way to get orders. He didn't know what the situation was like and running around blindly wasn't going to help anyone...

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

10th Sector Armada
ANS Mon Mothma
Equipment: Echani Vibrosword | AT-NB5
Tags: Gerwald Lechner

The doors slipped open with a hiss, followed by the discharge of a blaster, the bolt tearing through the air and striking the shoulder of a Sith Trooper only to be followed in quick succession as two more struck the individual. One bolt tore into the trooper's collar bone, while the third struck home and tore into their neck as the woman stood silently before stepping forward. Each heavy footfall seemed to reverberate in the hangar bay, announcing the woman's arrival as she strode forward. A group of Alliance Troopers followed behind her, surging forward as she permitted her attention to focus for a moment upon someone that she had once considered a friend and ally.

It was the cry let out by a trooper that pulled her attention back, the woman quickly pivoting on her hind foot as she shifted her weight, the weapon narrowly missing its target. Her response, however, in kind, would not miss as she planted the pommel of her vibrosword firmly into the trooper's stomach. The noise of retching was enough to inform the woman that the strike had the intended effect, the trooper doubled over before passing out, their arms grasping their torso as she stepped forward.

What the Sith had done was incredibly rude by any standard of those individuals who had the understanding of basic hospitality and manners. They had, effectively, invited themselves into her home without anything remotely considerable as a request. Thus, her actions in kind, were more than warranted in polite society, the expulsion of the Sith Raiders, including their leader. Another blaster bolt tore through the air as she leveled the pistol at another trooper standing between her and her target. The bolt slammed into the individual, catching their shoulder at just the right angle to spin them around before two more bolts struck home and sent them forward to the cold floor of the hangar bay.

Each step closed the distance slowly, each movement was deliberate as she carefully navigated her way through the Sith Raiders. As it became clearer that the engagement was quickly becoming one of close quarters, she slipped the blaster pistol back into the holster that hung at her side. Another quick movement saw her dropping to a knee as her head bowed, the blade of a Sith Raider swung high and missed, narrowly shaving the top of her helm. Looking up, she rose quickly, her forehead slamming into the Raider's chin and shattering the poor soul's teeth with a sickening squelching noise before she stepped over the individual's body.

"Gerwald..."

Her voice showed no hint of emotion nor tone, the word hung upon the still air of the hangar bay as time seemed to slow for a brief moment. The armor-clad figure stood silently, her hand gripping the hilt of her blade and slowly freeing it from its sheath.

​

 

[Kyorra Pavanos]

​

The piercing scream of TIE engines filled the void as Kyorra gripped the controls of her fighter, her eyes locked on the flickering display of enemy fighters ahead. The Galactic Alliance had brought their starfighters in full force, weaving through the chaos with a precision she begrudgingly admired. But admiration didn't stop her from locking on to the closest target.

"Copy, Naami," Kyorra responded over the comms, her tone clipped and focused. The nickname didn't bother her, although, "maybe we should figure out a squadron name for ourselves? Like, skull, or titan or something."

The battlefield ahead erupted into chaos. Alliance starfighters streaked past her, their engines glowing bright against the darkness. Turbolasers from the Sith blockade carved searing lines across the void, leaving smoldering wreckage in their wake. It was chaos incarnate, and Kyorra thrived in it.

Her TIE fighter banked sharply to the right, the craft's nimbleness responding perfectly to her touch. She covered Naami's six as his Interceptor danced through the fray. He was good, she'd give him that. His fighter twisted and spun with an agility that even she found impressive.

A warning alarm blared in her cockpit. An Alliance pilot had locked onto her. "Figures," she muttered, her fingers darting over the controls.

She yanked the yoke hard to the left, her TIE spinning into a sharp roll that sent her skimming the edge of a laser barrage. The cockpit rattled, and she cursed under her breath. Whoever was on her tail wasn't letting up.

"Let's see how you handle this," she growled, cutting her engines for half a second before jerking the yoke upward. The sudden deceleration threw her pursuer off, their shots going wide as her TIE twisted up and over them in an arcing loop.

As she swung back down, her targeting computer locked onto the enemy fighter below. The reticle flashed red, and she squeezed the trigger. Twin bolts of green plasma erupted from her cannons, slamming into the enemy fighter's left wing. The Alliance fighter spiraled, and finally exploded.

"Gotcha," she muttered, flipping a switch to reorient her targeting systems.

Ahead, Naami's Interceptor fired a clean shot, the explosion of another Alliance fighter lighting up her viewport.

Her radar flared again, signaling more enemy fighters closing in. She toggled her comms, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Naami, Haro we've got two more coming in from above. I'm on your six. Let's not make this easy for them."

Haro Aven | Naamino Zuukamano | Micah tol Powl ​