Faction Old Stomping Grounds (SJC Liberation of Voss)

[Sakadi Marathi Sinvala]

Location: The Mind Healer's grove.​

Equipment: Lightsabers, Cosaint Bracers, Covert Jedi Robes, standard equipment (Bio)​

Objective: Root the Imperials out and cleanse this place.
Tags: Cadere Yenna Mi'la Undari

Her white and purple blades remained extinguished as they traversed the dark caverns. She wouldn't need them to see the path ahead of her because Cas, who walked beside her, already held his yellow blade up like a torch. Instead, the Jedi Master focused on the lingering dark presences of the corrupted mystics. She couldn't tell where exactly in the grove they were, nor could she catch a glimpse of their thoughts. The shroud of darkness they projected was simply too much for her to break through on her own.

Her mind was already open to the flow of the Force, searching for any signs of life when Cas telepathically approached her. "Ah, so you do practice daily." She commented in hopes of changing the subject. He caught on quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly. Was she that easy to read?

In truth, the Sephi felt guilty. More guilty than ever, after her encounter with Maya Bir Sinvala on Thustra. Her own sister had fallen to the Dark side, because of her inaction. Because she was the one who left. Abandoning her sibling in search of her own fortune and glory. And now, she paid the price for it.

But it wasn't just her sister, who's life had been ruined by her decisions. Both her Padawans, current and former, had gone through great suffering under her tutelage. Both still carried the scars from battles they should have never been in. Their safety was her responsibility, and she had failed both her Padawans. That alone made her nervous in the presence of both her former and current student.

Her train of thought would be interrupted by a deafening roar. It was followed by a bone-chilling wave of dark energy, and made her stop in her tracks. "Do you feel that?" Her disembodied voice echoed softly. "Whatever it is that they're doing down there, we have to stop it..." If this is what their enemy meant by being 'ready for them', she feared the worst.​

 

[Andromeda Malvern]

L O C A T I O N | Voss, The Spire​

O B J E C T I V E | The Tower of Prophecy​

W E A R I N G | [X]​

T A G S | Varn Barakis - Thurion Heavenshield - Caden Evesa - Mathieu Brion - Prisoner 132 ​

The vibration of the gates smashing against solid rock rumbled through her mask. She felt it in her feet, pressed firmly against the dirt. She felt it in her ears as the air trembled around them. It was time.

Andromeda clung a little closer than necessary to the Zabrak as they picked their way through the crowds toward the gate. Were it not for the cloak on his back, Andromeda would have had a hard time picking him out of the crowd. Fortunately, the cloak was striking in her vision. It shifted and swayed with the breeze, fading a reappearing like the light dancing through shadow. Still, she was grateful when they found themselves on the other side of the gate, where they were alone, save for the handful of Jedi that had joined.

Inside the tower, Andromeda was completely in the dark. There was little light to be had, making it difficult to even see shadows, but she could hear. She could hear everything. Every splash of water as it dripped from the cracked roof, every breath of her fellow Jedi, every shuffle of a misplaced foot. Darkness was many things to many people, frightening being key amongst them, but not to Andromeda. Along with the Zabrak’s words of encouragement, that she would be his ears, Andromeda was almost confident about the situation.

Almost.

The booming voice of the master that Andromeda had heard earlier piped up again. Andromeda rather liked it. It was the one constant in an ever-changing environment. She agreed with his sentiment. They could not afford to be lazy here. Every room must be searched. When he suggested that everyone find a partner, Andromeda found her feet shifting closer to the Zabrak. She did not need to be told twice. The prospect of exploring this place alone left an uneasy, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Knight Bakaris, as she now knew him thanks to the booming voice, was her counterweight.

With everyone pairing off, Andromeda found herself standing stock still waiting for Knight Bakaris to say something. Fortunately for Andromeda, her only job could be completed quite well by standing still in the silence. She shut out her vision, casting aside the shadowy forms of whatever she could make out, shrouding herself in complete and total darkness. It was always easier this way, there were no distractions to tug your attention one way or the other. The only thing you had to focus on were the sounds.

At first, she could not pick out anything that seemed out of the ordinary. A few scuffles here and there, but whatever had made them could be no bigger than a rat. She took a deep breath and concentrated harder. “I hear something.” Her coy tone broke the silence. So quietly at first that it could have been a breeze whipping through one of the many tunnels. “I hear something.” Andromeda repeated, with a little more confidence this time.

Something, at this point, could have been anything. Perhaps an old piece of furniture finally giving in, or maybe one of the rats had knocked something over, but there was a clear, defined noise echoing off the chamber. Andromeda raised her arm, stretching a pale, slender finger out to the tunnel leading off to their left. “Down there.”​

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[Varn Barakis]

Location: Tower of Prophecy, Voss
Tags: Andromeda Malvern Thurion Heavenshield Caden Evesa Mathieu Brion Prisoner 132
Wearing:

Varn nodded at the Grandmaster's words. He could feel the sudden, familiar weight of responsibility settling squarely on his shoulders as he looked first to his padawan, then, to the others in turn. A sigh of relief almost escaped his lips when one of the them -a human by the name of Caden- went after Thurion, following the Order's leader from the room. The Zabrak was not sure he would've been able to protect them all should the worst happen; this way the boy was safe. Relatively speaking, at least.​

Looking about the entrance hall, the Jedi knight waited. Wordlessly, he watched his padawan out of the corner of his eye, sensing in her the distinct need for silence. Deafening as it was, it seemed to help the girl to focus. Before long, she found something. "Down there." The padawan pointed to a tunnel on their left. ​

"With me." The knight instructed, padding silently across the hall until he reached the mouth of the tunnel. Half-submerged in gloom, the Jedi ignited his lightsaber. A blade of emerald fire, it cast back the encroaching dark, allowed him to see somewhat clearly despite the lack of ambient light. Taking a few tentative steps forward, the knight cast a glance back at his padawan, a slight crease to his lips. He knew his eyes betrayed the sense of worry he felt. Fortunate, then, that he had his back to her. ​

They walked for a time, the only sound that of hushed breath and their feet scuffing the cold stone beneath them. Varn couldn't say how long it was they were like this; the importance of time was far from his mind as they came to a pair of large doors. Heavy wood shot through with iron, they dwarfed the Jedi and his charges. With his freehand, the knight undid the latch, easing the door open a few inches.​

A boot sped it on its way. ​

Lunging forward, the knight raised his blade high, ready and willing to do battle. Instead, silence greeted him. Frowning, the knight looked once more to his padawan, a disturbed look on his face. "Nothing-" Was all he managed to say before the silence was shattered by the sound of crying. Gut-wrenchingly distinct, it drew his attention back to the room. Not unlike the entrance hall, this room was spacious, dark, and eerily devoid of any furnishings. A study hall, Varn presumed. No longer.​

Stepping deeper into the room, the Zabrak searched for the source of the crying. It wasn't long before he found it; a young girl, small and curled up into a ball lay in the middle of the room. Her sobbing grew louder the closer the Jedi got, until that, too, was deafening. Reaching out a hand, the knight stopped himself as the girl turned her face to look up, revealing to him a sight that made his hearts skip a beat.​

"Father?!" His daughter exclaimed, her tear-streaked face writhe with fear and emotion. Recoiling, Varn took a few involuntary steps back, his mind beset on all sides by doubt and confusion. Zena? He almost said, catching himself just in time. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. His little girl was safe and sound back on Kashyyk, surrounded by the Order's finest.​

How could she be here, now? It made no sense. ​

"Father! Help me!" The girl pleaded, climbing unsteadily to her feet. She took a step towards him.​

Varn stepped back. "No." He said, shaking his head, struggling to control the emotions roiling just beneath the surface. "No." He repeated more firmly, internally reeling from the knife that had been jammed through his chest. The look on his not-daughter's face only twisted it deeper. He cringed as he realized he was showing the mystics exactly what they wanted to see. Summoning his resolve, the knight shouted, "show yourselves, cowards!" ​

As if a switch had been flipped, the look on his daughter's face shifted. No more did the tears flow freely; no more did she beg for help, or wish for rescue. The smile that twisted the illusion's features was empty of warmth. The evil laughter that followed sang of madness, not mirth. "Oh, brave knight," a deep, monotonous voice intoned, "we are not the ones who're afraid." ​

Over his not-daughter's head, Varn watched as a figure appeared. Then, another. And another.​

 

[Prisoner 132]

Tower of Prophecy
Cell 21b
Thurion Heavenshield​

She didn't respond. Not to the footsteps, nor the breaking of her cell. The chaos of the outside world invaded the stifling silence of the dudgeon, earning not even a flinch from the ball braced in the corner. She felt a large presence approach, a blue wash of light peeking out from under her legs. The steps stopped before her. A body bent down, its clothing creaking under the strain. Her fingers tightened on her legs.

"Take my hand, child. I won't hurt you. No-one will hurt you ever again."

Her head slowly rose to the sight of hand held before her, large and calloused and unthreatening amongst the darkness. Blue eyes skipped to his face, wary as she surveyed the stranger that had broken into her cell. Beard. Scar. Kind gaze.

A shiver rang down her spine, her world wobbling as the dream came to life.

"Thurion! There anything down there?!"

Her attention snapped to the hole in her cell, alert and terse as she skimmed the darkness for the voice she had not predicted. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed back her stress. Her gaze turned back to the man that waited patiently for her to come around. She knew what he wanted of her. She knew what was expected. After a moment's hesitation, she reached out, laying her scarred hand in his.

"Where is everyone?"

 

[Mathieu Brion]

Location: Tower of Prophecy, Voss-Ka, Voss
Tags: Caden Evesa | Andromeda Malvern | Varn Barakis | Thurion Heavenshield | Prisoner 132

When he searched his emotions, Mathieu felt disappointment. He had not seen his good friend Caden for such a long time. Last they met, he was giving it his all to ensure that his mate wouldn't fall or get hurt, and now he barely got a response from him. But in the end, patience is a virtue and in this case, perhaps one which the Padawan had to heed.

And then they were in. His gaze traversed the cavernous room, first going up to the high windows and then down to the numerous doorways. So this was how the Tower of Prophecy looked from the inside. Perhaps Jedi had been free to visit the halls they now found themselves in in the past. But that was before Mathieu had joined their ranks. Still, he felt a sense of nostalgia or sanctity sweep over him - it was as if he was setting foot in an old temple or library that had fallen into disarray.

He heard the Master's voice and the echo that followed presumably, it would normally not occur when it was filled with people but at this moment, it was just them. Mathieu's eyes went to his friend as the instructions to split of in pairs reached him. A careful smile spread across his lips - maybe this would be the time when they would get to talk, or at the very least spend some time together. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, for his spirits fell when he saw Caden walk off long with Thurion. Mathieu's chest fell, just as his gaze did. He let out a defeated sigh and for the moment, all other noise became secondary.

An empty nod was produced as he heard the Knight say 'With me' but in truth, Mathieu was not really there. He was confused and sad. Although he had moved with the others at first, he soon slowed his pace, letting them pull away as he stayed behind in the grand chamber. The force was pulling him elsewhere and nobody had to worry, as long as they sensed his force signature nearby.

His thoughts wandered wildly as he walked where the force drew him. He kept trying, but still failed to see why Caden would be so distant towards him. It was dangerous - the large Morellian was barely paying any attention to where he was walking. At this point, he trusted in the force to guide him right.

After moving through a short corridor, he arrived at what seemed like a reception area. At the centre of it, he saw a Voss lying on the floor in a pool of blood. His mind immediately zapped back to the moment at hand. Someone was hurt and he needed to help. The transition from a slow walk to a quick sprint was seamless and within moments, he was crouched down by the hurt Voss "Where are you hurt?" he asked upon the Voss let out a pained response "My stomach, and my arm"

It painful to just hear the victim's voice but he had to work past it "Don't worry. I'll get you patched up" Mathieu cursed himself for not having paid more attention during his classes in force healing and while he had spent some time practicing afterwards, it was not enough to help him cure stab wounds. It was fortunate that he still carried a few kolto packs which he could begin applying.

"Aren't you... ahh.. aren't you Jedi?" Mathieu nodded at the question asked by the Voss victim "I am. I won't hurt you, just relax" Despite Mathieu's reassurance and call for relaxation, the alien kept speaking "I told them to open the gates... I told them... ahhh" his voice turned into pained grunts. He had to stop speaking, at least for a bit. Putting a hand on the Voss' forehead, he spoke once more "Try to relax. Give the kolto a chance to kick in."

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Tower of Prophecy
Dungeons -> Entrance Hall

Her small hand was placed his, effectively swallowed up by his large palm. This was far from his first time rescuing prisoners, and child prisoners at that. He knew to take things slow, let them take the first step and earn their trust. Being a father and a grandfather, he'd had plenty of practice.

"Come with me, little one. I'll keep you safe."

He let go of his lightsaber, yet it did not fall to the floor as one would predict but rather hovered in place, still activated to shower the inside of the cell in its sapphire light. Thurion put his arms around her, wrapping one around her shoulders and hooking the other under her legs to lift her off the cold floor and carry her out of the cell. The levitating lightsaber followed closely behind, gently bobbing in the air.

"Caden," he joined up with the young man, now with a girl in his arms. "I found this one locked away further in. She's not Voss, so we're taking her with us. The other cells are all empty. Let's head back to the others, light the way please."

On his wordless command the hovering lightsaber extinguished itself and clipped itself to his belt, now that they had Caden to guide them back up the stairs and out of the dark dungeon. He reached behind him to grab hold of his royal cape and gave it a hard tug, ripping it from its clasps and wrapping the poor girl inside it to keep her warm.

Climbing back up the stairs to find themselves back on the ground floor, the others seemed to have gone off to search the other rooms. His honed senses picked up on their whereabouts, sensing two of them in the same room while another was off by himself. "This way," he told Caden.

Entering the room where Mathieu Brion was busy tending to a wounded Voss, Thurion looked down at the girl in his arms and gently lowered her down to place her feet on the floor. "This nice young man here is called Caden. He will keep you safe while I go have a look at that wounded man over there, okay? I'll be right over there, see?"

Carefully letting go of her to stand on her own two feet, he stepped over to Mathieu by the wounded man. A quick mental scan of his injuries revealed to him all he needed to know, and kneeling down by his side Thurion placed his hand over the alien's forehead.

"Rest," he whispered softly, causing the Voss to go limp as he fell into a slumber.

"Right, let's get him outside for the medics to care for. You grab his feet, I'll grab his head."

Carefully carrying the wounded man back to the entrance, a team of medics and healers had set up a field hospital just outside. Medical personnel rushed in with a stretcher to assume responsibility for the man's health. "You did good, son," he patted Mathieu on the shoulder.

Still, they had a job to do and so headed back in to join up with Caden and the girl before finding the others.

Caden Evesa | Prisoner 132 | Varn Barakis | Andromeda Malvern ​

 

[Caden Evesa]

Caden didn't really know what was going down in the dungeons.

He was minding his own business, mind wondering. There was nothing he could ready do while Thurion was doing whatever he was doing down in the dungeons. All he was doing was providing protection and light, the yellow of his blade lighting the way out.

Somewhere down the hall Caden could just about see the faint sapphire of Thurion's blade.

The boredom of waiting was setting in while he waited. His mind was just wondering, doing it's own thing. He was thinking about everything from what to eat later in the day to where he had parked his ship to how many laps of the dungeons he could run before Thurion got back.

Thankful wasn't even the word. He let out an honest sigh of relief when he saw Thurion walking back up the hall. He couldn't say he expected a little girl to be in his arms, but he'd seen weirder. Weirder, such as the lightsaber that was just floating behind him.

It was a trick he really wanted Thurion to teach him.

Thurion seemed to be full of tricks and Caden was even more impressed when the lightsaber effortlessly deactivated itself and clipped itself to the older Jedi Masters belt. It was something he had never seen before and it was oddly impressive.

Slowly, the young man used his own yellow blade to guide the way back up to the entrance hall. It wasn't a long walk, just numerous amount of steps. Getting down was the easy bit, getting back up was a full leg workout he kind of hadn't expected.

They reached the entrance hall pretty quickly thought.

Walking in, Caden noticed Mathieu tending to the wounded Voss. He watched as Thurion placed his prisoner friend down and he watched as the older Jedi Master walked over to provide aid to both the wounded Voss and Mathieu. He only stopped watching once Thurion got over to the group.

Then he looked down to the prisoner who had been left in his care.

"Do you ugh, have a name at all? Am I supposed to hold your hand here? Feels wrong to just call you prisoner or little girl, you know? I know, maybe if I introduce myself first. I'm Caden and I'm a Jedi, means I have really cool powers and stuff. I can make you float, if you'd like?"

He really was awkward and clearly never should have children, he had no idea what to do with them.

Thurion Heavenshield | Mathieu Brion | Prisoner 132 | Varn Barakis | Andromeda Malvern

 

[Andromeda Malvern]

L O C A T I O N | Voss, The Spire ​

O B J E C T I V E | The Tower of Prophecy​

W E A R I N G | [X] ​

T A G S | Varn Barakis - Thurion Heavenshield - Mathieu Brion - Caden Evesa - Prisoner 132 ​

One again, Andromeda fell close to Varn’s heels. This time there was extreme need for it. If she could have grabbed the floating cloak before it disappeared into total darkness, she would have. Yet she found herself more concerned with the fact that her clinging to him like that would more than likely be a hinderance.

As they dove into one of the tunnels that stretched out into the depths of the tower, Andromeda braced herself for darkness. The uncomfortable kind. The kind where you stuck your hands out into the blackness, praying and hoping that they would catch you if you fell. It was the only thing you could do to stop yourself from tripping. When the inky blackness of the tunnel swallowed Andromeda’s already poor vision, it did not linger long. Much to her surprise. A shocking white gold glow burst forth from an object in Varn’s hand.

A lightsaber, of course, but Andromeda could not tell. She had only ever seen them active in the bright rays of sun back on Jutrand. They looked like streaks of white against the faded outline of the architecture, but this? It was almost angelic. The glow spread like wild fire through the tunnels, casting shadows on things Andromeda could not have made out even in the best of lights. She could see the cracks in the cobblestone floor, the bricks that built the tunnel around them, she could even make out the larger chunks of debris littered underfoot.

With every step, Andromeda found her fear melting. Replaced with an utter sense of awe. She hardly noticed Varn’s hesitation, or the panic in his eyes. Though she wouldn’t have been able to see it regardless.

It ended too soon. Andromeda nearly walked smack bang into the middle of Varn’s back when he came to a sudden stop at the heavy wooden doors. Andromeda cringed as he lifted the latch. The rusted iron beneath creaked so loudly Andromeda could feel it in the pit of her stomach .If there was someone behind the door, and if they weren’t before, it was highly likely that they were now aware of their presence. She held her breath as the door inched further open, swallowing some of the bright golden glow that had been lighting her path.

The nails on Andromeda’s hands sunk into her palm at Varn’s sudden speed. They nearly went deep enough to slice the pale white skin on her palms clean open. However, the silence they were met with stopped any serious damage. Strange. Varn seemed to agree. Andromeda was never wrong about this kind of stuff. She had just spent a good ten minutes listening intently to the sounds of the tower. It wasn’t a small animal in here, she could tell that much, but there should have been something. Anything.

Andromeda stepped beyond the threshold of the door to join her master inside the room. She found a deep wave of frustration and disappointment had settled into her stomach. The one job he had asked her to complete and she had failed at it.

Before she could chastise herself more, a sound unlike any other Andromeda had heard echoed through the chamber. The masked padawan cast her blind gaze wildly around the room, following the echos she felt in her chest as it rang out through the high ceilings. Varn began to move, and Andromeda almost shot out to pull him back. That noise did not sound natural to her. It sounded too high, too piercing. Too desperate. It was a trap. She could feel it. The noise was meant to lure then in.

“Master Varn I-…” She had not stopped him in time, and now he had already gone beyond her vision. So, Andromeda could do nothing but follow. “Master Varn?” She called out into the darkness, following the sound of his footsteps on the rotting wood floors. It was the sound of another voice that eventually drew her back to the Knights’ side. Andromeda could hear it was meant to sound like the voice of a child. A little girl. His little girl. It sounded just as wrong as her wailing had.

Like someone trying too hard to sound like a child in distress. Fortunately, this time, she was not the only one who sensed it. Andromeda heard Varn take a step back, she heard his mumbles of denial as the child scrambled toward him. This was when Andromeda caught her first glimpse of the child. Ordinarily, people were outlines of their forms, shakily drawn markings in various shades that shifted and swayed as they did. This little girl was far from ordinary. Her shadowy structure was dominated by another. An angry, vile crimson shadow that pulled on invisible strings attached to the little girl, tugging and pulling her form where he deemed fit.

The girl responded to his demands, to the strings that pulled mercilessly at her lifeless shadow. It was horrifying, Andromeda could feel her stomach churning violently. She could hear her heartbeat pounding against her ears.

It was Varn’s voice that broke the tension. "...cowards!" He cried. Why were all Jedi so insistent on angering something that clearly meant them harm? Andromeda could not even begin to fathom an answer. The vile red outline of the unknown puppeteer responded just as Andromeda had expected. Only, it said we. There was more than one of them. How many more? Just one other? Or were they outnumbered entirely? She did not feel like asking the shadow, nor did she expect he would be in the mood to answer.

Andromeda risked a glance at the door behind them, still half open from their entrance. They could escape if they needed too. If the shadow was not as smart as it seemed. Somehow, the young padawan doubted the latter thought immensely. He would try to shut the door if they ran. There was nothing she could do save for casting her gaze back to Varn. If her eyes had been visible, they would have screamed of her panic. The scarlet shadow had been right.

She was afraid.​

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[Prisoner 132]

The ground felt cold and vulnerable. She shoved her way onto her feet, the cape left to flutter to the ground. She ignored Caden's questions and childish tone. Either he thought she was slow or young, neither of which mattered as she scanned the hall, her eyes jerking everywhere.

"Where are they?" She demanded, her tone stronger than her small demeanor let on. Standing now, she was taller than she first appeared. Her long legs were lean and stripped of fat. She took a step back into the wall, the tendons in her neck straining as she tried to keep her attention on all corners of the space.

"Where did they go?"

 

[Mi'la Undari]

Location: The Mind Healer's grove.
Equipment: Lightsabers, rest in (Bio).
Objective: Root the Imperials out and cleanse this place.
Tags: Cadere Yenna Sakadi Marathi Sinvala

Given the silence of her mentor, Mi'la wasn't exactly in a great mood. Without her connection, she couldn't guess what her master's frame of mind was, but from what she could tell it wasn't good. Watching as Yenna attempted to prank her master, Mi'la only let out a small sigh, seeing what the small woman saw in causing mischief in a situation such as this.

Then she heard the roar, and a familiar sense of fear gripped her gut. Eyes widened, Mi'la's hands gripped her sabers tightly, feeling a chill drift through the air of the tunnel. There was something foul at work, and it wasn't just the Sith. "Sakadi, I can feel something." The padawan inquired, lifting her upwards to see if it was simply cold air, or a presence she could feel. Finding it to be the former did little to put her at ease. Sakadi's words only confirmed what she feared, though the padawan saw little way in solving the problem by sitting around. Drawing her sabers, Mi'la rushed ahead fighting the fear with her resolve to not be a liability. In her head, it made sense, draw the ire of the enemy, provide an opening for her friends in the process. "Alright, let's go, everyone stay behind me!" With both sabers ignited, Mi'la rushed forward, fighting against the growing sense of terror within her, eager to show Sakadi that she wasn't weak, that she wouldn't have to be replaced as a padawan.

Rushing forward down the tunnel, if not stopped, Mi'la would find the source of the roar, as well as the handlers for the beast. It was a massive being, half machine, half monstrosity, seeped with the Dark Side. Mi'la wouldn't have long to look upon it however, as the moment the light of her sabers shined through, blaster fire was leveled towards her, spraying fire all around her position, sending the failed padawan running for cover; only to be struck several times in the side and head. Falling to the ground, smoldering and in a daze, the Twi'lek would be thought killed by the Sith, when in reality she was only hurt. Her head swimming with several verities of thoughts, she could only hope that her friends could exploit the pitiful opening she had given them.

It was a fleeting hope at best.

 

[Cadere]

Location: The Mind Healer's grove.​

Equipment: x1 Lightsaber, x2 Stimpacks, Communicator, Standard Attire​

Objective: Root the Imperials out and cleanse this place.
Tags: Yenna Sakadi Marathi Sinvala Mi'la Undari

Ironically, Sakadi's avoidance of his question seemed to prove that something was indeed up with her, although he was no closer to understanding why. Before he could press further however, he felt a few locs of his dreads obscure his vision causing him to let out an annoyed grunt - swiping away at them, he immediately knew who the culprit was. Normally, the Jedi Knight was all for joking around with his Padawan and even would retaliate, but now was not the time, especially when trying to converse with his former Master. Cas simply spun his head around and shot her a disapproving look.

Unfortunately, Cas and Sakadi's conversation would have to go on the backburner once more when a roar rumbled through the cave. What followed was the chill of the Dark side "Yeah, I feel it." the Kiffar confirmed, wondering what else could possibly be down here. Without warning, Mi'la rushed off ahead of the group "Mi'la, wait!" Cas exclaimed reaching out his arm in her direction - it was strange, usually he was the one to leap headfirst into danger. Reflexively, he followed after her for he knew she wasn't yet strong enough to handle whatever it was they were facing.

What he saw deeper in the tunnel was an abominable combination of flesh and metal, submerged in the Dark side's energy "What the--?" he muttered to himself. Witnessing Mi'la get clipped by stray blaster fire, the Jedi Knight swiftly somersaulted over her while enhancing himself with the Force before landing directly between her and the blaster fire. With his lightsaber, Cas deflected and redirected the bolts that came for him or Mi'la, stepping back slightly to fall back on Mi'la he used his cybernetic arm to grab the Twi'lek by the collar of her garments. Still deflecting the incoming fire with one hand, he dragged her to a thick rock formation and sat her up behind it, she should be safe enough there for now.

Without having to worry about her now, Cas would be able to engage with the enemy while Sakadi and Yenna could figure out what to do with the Dark sided beast. Rushing from cover, Cas began his assault - although not to the best of his ability as his body still very much hurt.

 

[Yenna]

Location: The Mind Healer's grove.
Equipment: In bio
Objective: Gremlin see, gremlin do
Tags: Sakadi Marathi Sinvala | Cadere | Mi'la Undari

Yenna's mischievous streak was broken with an overwhelming roar erupting through the caves. She froze up for a second before quickly putting away Mi'la's pistol. "A bad feeling about this, I have." she muttered as she stared ahead of them. She could feel the dark presence deeper into the cave. This wasn't just a normal creature. It was bathed in the Dark Side and supported with even more of it. It made her feel cold as she focused on it.

Suddenly her train of thought was broken when Mi'la bolted head first into the direction of that beast. "Hey, wait up!" she called out as she grabbed hold of Mi'la's lekku to balance herself, but the Twi'lek didn't stop. Cas was close behind them which was a relief to the little green Jedi. She didn't want to have to face this thing without at least all of her friends. When they rounded a corner, her eyes fell on the gaze of the beast. Time seemed to move in slow motion for her as Mi'la bolted for cover and the soldiers around the monster opened fire. Her green lightsaber was activated in an instant and defended herself and the Twi'lek from the bolts coming at them.

Cas also joined into the mix and allowed them to get in cover. Behind the rock, she extinguished her lightsaber and hopped off Mi'la to look her over. "Get hit, did you?" she asked her with concern as she stood on the woman's lap with her tiny hands tilting her head from one side to the other. She didn't want to know what would happen if she wasn't on her shoulders. After quickly looking her over and making sure she was alright, she peered over the rock to get a look at Cas and the monster. He was injured. He needed help. "Stay here. Help him, I'm gonna." she said to Mi'la before hopping onto the rock and deflecting a few bolts.

She jumped through the air and landed on Cas' shoulders, releasing a powerful force push at some of the troops to send them flying into a wall. She hoped they weren't too badly injured by that. "With that, any ideas?" she asked Cas as she hopped off and stood next to him. Her golden eyes scanned the beast and figured out an opening. "Cover me!" she called out to Cas as she somersaulted through the air and onto the beast's shoulders. Not standing still, she slid off its back and delivered a deep slice along the back of its legs before jumping around it once more.

 

[Varn Barakis]

Location: Tower of Prohecy, Voss
Tags: Andromeda Malvern Thurion Heavenshield Caden Evesa Mathieu Brion Prisoner 132

The three mystics looked much alike as they appeared, one-by-one, from the gloom. Dark robes, wicked grins, eyes that seemed to glint beneath hoods that left their faces half-hidden. Evil in humanoid form, they began to spread out, one going to either side as their apparent leader kept an eye on Varn. They mean to surround us, the knight thought, taking a step backwards, shielding Andromeda as best he could. Behind them, the door remained open, an invitation if ever Varn had seen one. He knew if for what it was.​

A trap.​

As soon as they turned to run, those doors would close, and the mystics would be upon them in a heartbeat. Varn was semi-confident he could fend them off, if but for a time. He was less confident that his padawan would be able to do the same. Andromeda, as bright and intelligent as she was proving to be, was untrained, and lacked both the mental fortitude and physical prowess to withstand any attack the mystics might throw at her. Not for the first time, Varn began to wonder if he'd made a mistake bringing her into the tower. ​

He hoped it would be the last mistake he made today. ​

Shifting his weight onto his right leg, the Zabrak let his left foot slide forward. He brought his lightsaber low, both hands on the hilt, waiting, willing his opponents to make their first move. Instead, the Jedi was forced to watch as the image of his daughter began to change shape before his very eyes. When what was left finally fell to shadow, Varn felt relieved. ​

One last attempt at tormenting me, the knight thought, the horror and revulsion and -dare he admit it?- rage he felt never making it past the gleam in his eyes. ​

Nobody spoke a word for a long time. There was no need for it. ​

"Well." Varn said, glancing to either side, a grimace on his face. "Let's get this over with." ​

They attacked as one. The mystics to his right and left moved first, their black-clad figures dark blurs in his periphery. Reaching out with the Force, Varn tried to focus on the pair, to no avail. Nothing? They're not there. He wasn't given the time to process that discovery before the first mystic struck. Varn met the Voss' blade with his own, turned it aside. The telltale crackle as they met seemed off somehow. As if the blade wasn't really there. But it was, the Zabrak told himself as he twisted to deflect another blow. It has to be.​

Reaching out with the Force once more, Varn attempted to discern what was real and what was not. His daughter had been an illusion. Why not these mystics, too? As they attacked, Varn defended, relying on footwork and ripostes. He felt something brush his shoulder as he span; weak, the blow did little as the Jedi backhanded his saber into a mystic's neck. ​

What poured forth was not blood; he could not smell the instantly recognizable stench of burnt flesh. Instead... Shadow. Smoke. Varn let his blade fall low once more as the mystics around him dissolved. They were nothing more than tricks, illusions, and he cursed himself for a fool as the last mystic, the one he had thought their leader, began to speak. ​

"I'm surprised, Jedi," the mystic croaked, smirking. "You are the Master. Yet, your padawan sees us clearer than you do." Cackling, the chief-illusion shook his head. "I must say I'm disappointed. Your connection to the Force, it's weak. Are you even truly worthy of calling yourself a defender of the downtrodden?" The illusion let the question hang. Varn could only concur with the Voss as he continued, "it's a miracle that you Jedi even managed to oust us from this place. I for one feel disgraced, having fled the likes of you-"​

"But fled you did." Varn interrupted before the mystic could continue. "Never to return, most like. Now, begone, unless you've anything useful to say? No?" Varn extinguished his lightsaber, turned to face his padawan. Behind him now, the third and final mystic stepped back into the room's deep shadows- returning to place he belonged.​

Sighing, Varn shook his head. "I'm sorry you had to see that," he said, unable to shake the immeasurable shame he suddenly felt. Silently, he took a step towards the door, no longer capable of looking his padawan in the eye. "Come! Let us find Thurion and the others, lest I embarrass myself further."​

 

[Micah tol Powl]

B Y O O

| V O S S - K A

The child sat with his legs dangling over the side of the landing pad.

The starport was in ruins, but still recognizable. Columns of smoke trailed to the heavens in silent vigil to the departure of the Sith and the arrival of the Silver Jedi. A reversal of fortunes in a late hour that was either succor or just more suffering for the people of Voss, who had found themselves going from capital of the Silver Jedi to another world devoured by the Sith war machine.

Once, long ago, this had been the spot where the Pantoran had first met Thurion Heavenshield .

In all honesty, the Pantoran had come here to die. The Silver Jedi had been in a war with the Primeval. A war that had claimed several lives, including the loss of the planet Ziost. And all during that time, the Pantoran had been the perfect agent. The perfect spy. He'd manipulated the Levantine Astronautical Academy and then leveraged the merger of the Levantine Sanctum and the Silver Jedi to position himself so that he could gather intelligence on the Jedi -- on the enemy -- in order to give the Primeval the advantage in that conflict.

Then it had all gone wrong.

At what point? He wasn't sure. Not then. Not now. The Primeval had turned on their own loyal worlds, their own loyal faithful, offering the planet Mirial as a sacrifice to Balagoth. And then there had been the slavery. There had always been slavery. Boo had watched as the Primeval had turned out slaves on the fields of Wayland and then forced them to run through the Mandalorian minefields on fear of death. Death by the mines or death by the firing squad behind them. But that had been different, that had been war.

When they had taken Théodred Heavenshield , it had forced the Pantoran to make a choice.

How long ago had that been? Twenty? Thirty years? Theo had been only a boy then. As had Boo. That had been before his...

...incident.

As for what he was now, only the Dark Side knew. Which terrified him. He didn't know why it didn't terrify the Heavenshields as well.

Everything about Boo was wrong. When he had met Thurion those decades past, the Pantoran had assumed that he would reap what he had sown. Repay his debts to the Jedi with his life. Instead, Thurion had pardoned him.

Did the man have any regrets about that?

Years past, Boo had come to Voss to learn repentance. Instead, Thurion Heavenshield had taught him forgiveness. It was all very Jedi. Boo hadn't understood it then.

Looking back, he felt as though he understood even less now.

A snake pressed its head inside the side of the blue-skinned youth's body, as the viper-like form of an amphistaff coiled into his lap. Cupping the biot's head in hand, the Pantoran idly scratched the living weapon's chin as the two watched the smoldering ruins and reflected on all their yesterdays.

The child's eerie, amber eyes peered over toward the Tower of Prophecy.

Thurion would be leading the charge there. Rooting out the evil had supplanted the Mystics of Voss.

But the most nefarious Sith were those who ruled from the shadows. The puppet-masters who commanded the shadows and then set up others to take the fall, while discretely slipping from view.

The Jedi would not know how to hunt down that kind of subtle evil.

But Boo was no Jedi.

 

[Sakadi Marathi Sinvala]

Location: The Mind Healer's grove.​

Equipment: Lightsabers, Cosaint Bracers, Covert Jedi Robes, standard equipment (Bio)​

Objective: Save the day.
Tags: Cadere Yenna Mi'la Undari

The one moment she focused on her own troubles, the Dark side retaliated. The howl had caught her off guard and before she could assess the situation, her Padawan had already rushed off, carrying Yenna and followed by Cas. They were already out of her sight before she could project a simple 'wait!' The only thing she could do was run after them, hoping that this disorder wouldn't be the end of them.

Sakadi was the last to arrive to the scene. The cavern housed a squad of troopers and... some abomination? Her gaze quickly shifted to her allies. Mi'la had gone down; her unconscious body placed behind cover. Cas heroically tried to hold off the entire firing squad on his own, while Yenna made her way to the Sithspawn. Truth be told, it wasn't looking great.

Her iridescent eyes darted through the cavern, looking for any advantage she could take a hold of. But there was very little to work with. She was no miracle worker and the corrupted mystics kept her from using the full extent of her abilities. Although she was not entirely harmless.

Her shoto blade ignited, deflecting one or two blaster bolts before she threw it. The purple blade spun through the air, climbing higher and higher until it cut through the stalactites that hung from the cavern's roof. She hoped that it would be enough to disrupt the soldiers and grant Cas an opening, or harm the abomination Yenna so bravely engaged. It was all the help she would grant them.

Instead of fighting, the Sephi swiftly made her way over to the cover that hid her Padawan. What few blaster bolts came her way were bat aside by the returning shoto, which she caught with her left hand. Once she reached her Padawan, Sakadi would reach out through the Force once more. Not to speak, but to heal.

A gentle, pink glow enveloped the two fingers she placed against her Padawan's temple. The healing process would keep her distracted and wide open, but the Sephi had faith in her companions. They could handle this... right?​

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

Tower of Prophecy
Entrance Hall
Tags: Caden Evesa | Prisoner 132 | Varn Barakis | Andromeda Malvern | Mathieu Brion | Micah tol Powl

Having brought the injured Voss to the entrance so that the medical team could attend to his wounds, Thurion and Mathieu stepped back inside to join up with the others. Something caused Thurion to stop and turn, however, looking back towards the exit. There was a presence out there he recognised, belonging to someone neither he or his family had seen in some time.

"Boo..."

He wanted to run outside and look for him, embrace his adopted grandson and take him back home to his family. Théodred Heavenshield worried greatly for the Pantoran ever since they learned of his disappearance.

But Thurion also sensed that the boy did not wish to be found, not yet. Having been away for so long, he would have to take the first step to reunite with his adopted family. Otherwise they would just pressure him into a half-hearted decision.

As much as it went against his heart's desire, Thurion followed Mathieu back inside to resume their mission to take down the corrupted mystics hiding inside their tower.

"Caden," he beckoned the padawan and the girl he'd left him with.

The imprisoned girl was older than she'd looked down in that dark dungeon, malnourished and frail as she was. It didn't change the way Thurion interacted with her though, adjusting the cloak wrapped around her so that it wouldn't fall off and gently cupping her cheeks to look her in the eye, getting a closer look at her.

"You let me know if you feel to weak to walk, okay?"

Taking her by the hand, by now Knight Bakarn and Padawan Malvern had reappeared to join the party. "You guys alright? I take it that takes care of the ground floor."

Eyes now turned to the staircase leading to the upper floor.

"Weapons at the ready; they're up there waiting for us. From now on, we all stick together. No-one leaves the group. Watch each other's backs."

Against his better judgement, he decided to bring the girl with them. As much as he wanted her as far away from this place as possible, leaving her with a total stranger would likely do more harm than good in her fragile state. He would keep her safe, no matter what.

"Let's go."

 

[Prisoner 132]

She jerked in place, her attention snapping everywhere but on him.

Didn't he know? "They are waiting, they are watching," came the tight, soft voice. She stood unmoving as the group regathered, her eyes constantly skimming the walls for the subtle ripple of the Tower's keepers magic. They were experts at camouflage. But of course, Thurion already knew that. As he tried to move them out, her shoulders coiled higher.

"We can't go up there," she announced to them all, trying to tug Thurion back. He wouldn't like what he found. She never did.

Thurion Heavenshield | Caden Evesa | Varn Barakis | Andromeda Malvern | Mathieu Brion | Micah tol Powl

 

[Andromeda Malvern]

L O C A T I O N | Voss, The Spire​

O B J E C T I V E | The Tower of Prophecy​

W E A R I N G | [X] ​

T A G S | Varn Barakis - Thurion Heavenshield - Caden Evesa - Mathieu Brion - Prisoner 132​

Andromeda’s ears were throbbing. She could feel it inside and out. The shadows were as clear as day to her, but they were nothing more. She could hear the words of the shadow that spoke. The one that controlled the puppet child. They rumbled in her mind like a rancor charging through thick jungle. But that was all. It was the only one she could see. She dared not turn her head to try and find the rest.

Her ears strained to hear the smallest of sounds. For the others, the ones that the first shadow had mentioned, but there was nothing to hear. Shadows made no sound.

“Well.” The voice of her master drowned out any sound that might have been made. His tone was firm, commanding. As though he had found his confidence in the silence the shadows had tried to dominate them with. “Let’s get this over with.” Andromeda winced at the words, though there was hardly any time to react at all. The moment the words left his lips the shadows leapt into action. Zipping around the room as though they were helium-filled balloon that had slipped from a child’s grasp. Despite their crimson glow, Andromeda could hardly keep up with them.

She was nothing but a hindrance in this situation, so she stepped back, narrowly avoiding one of the oncoming attacks to the right of Varn. He deflected their blows easily, then reached out to use the force against them. The light side desperately squirmed against the darkness. A battle that could not be seen but felt. In the pit of her stomach. She could feel its toil and effort weighing heavily on her shoulders. They are not real. She wanted to scream out to Varn. This kind of light would not affect the shadow. They were no more real than the puppet girl they had faced not moments ago.

It took everything in her power to summon the courage not to be a nuisance to Varn. He needed all the focus he could summon, and since she could do nothing but watch on in shock, she could at least prevent herself from becoming a distraction.

His focus paid off when he finally abandoned the idea of the light side affecting the shadows of his own accord. He fought harder with his blade, finally landing a blow into an unsuspecting shadow. Andromeda watched on in horror as the shadow grasped the blade embedded into its form, only to spread the wound up the length of its hazy outline. It burst into flames of pure, violent white that dulled out the scarlet in an instant. Leaving behind nothing but fog and the foul, acrid stench of burning flesh. It made Andromeda feel sick.

What the shadow said was a lie. A taunt made to infuriate Varn further. Andromeda suddenly felt a wave of sheepishness overtaken her. It dominated the fear, fuelled by the adrenaline of the sudden battle against literal darkness. There was one thing she prided herself on. Contrast to her lack of ability to speak out when it was needed, Andromeda was exceedingly good at holding her tongue. The embarrassment that flushed through her system was enough to make her call out defiantly to the shadow, to tell him how wrong he was and to taunt him back in equal measure. But she was far more sensible than that.

She pressed her lips together and listened to Varn’s reply, which seemed to hold weight with the darkness. Varn seemed unaffected by the entire experience, stepping toward her and speaking as easily as he had done when they had first come across the room. Andromeda could not find it in herself to say anything at all, and simply followed him as he began to make his way through the door. Unfortunately for Varn, Andromeda was not born a fool. Though she physically saw little, she saw much. She noticed his refusal to look at her as he stepped toward the corridor. She could hear that he held something back as his attempt at a friendly tone echoed through the now empty room.

The corridor, once beautiful and awe-inspiring, was bathed in darkness as they made their way back to the group. Even if Varn had illuminated it with his saber again, Andromeda could not have brought herself to be as enamoured with it as she was before. A thousand things rushed through her mind. Was Varn disappointed in her because she had not lifted a finger to help him fight? Was he upset with her for not speaking up when the shadow taunted them? Perhaps he knew that she could see the shadows true form when he had possessed the puppet version of his own daughter?

Or worse.

What if he believed what the shadow had said? What if he put weight into the words of something that had been created to purposefully torment him? Andromeda could do nothing to change that of her own accord. The others were easily explained, easily excused, but that? Andromeda could not deny that her born ability for force sight provided her with a different way to view the galaxy. Yet, the blame for that lay at neither of their feet. Andromeda could not help her birth. Varn could not help that he was not born like her. If he truly did believe the shadow, then it had placed an immovable and intolerable discord between the two.

They had known each other for such a short time thus far, but Andromeda could already feel the regret making a home in the pit of her stomach. Fortunately, something came breezing through the tunnels that provided Andromeda a brief distraction from her worries. The sound of the group. Travelling along the cracks in the thick stone wall like a breeze. “I can hear them.” Andromeda spoke, though her usual twinkling tone had faded into something altogether monotonous. “I think they are trying to look for a way out.” She could not move past Varn, the sound of his footsteps had been her guide through the darkened tunnels, but she did continue.

“They took the opposite tunnel to us.” That was not something she could hear, but rather something she remembered from the moments they first entered the tower. She paused, for a second or two to listen to the voices that washed over her ears. There was something unfamiliar about the melody of one of them. It sounded far too feminine to be anyone who had been in the original party. “And I think they found someone else.”​

 

[Varn Barakis]

Location: Tower of Prophecy, Voss-ka
Tags: Andromeda Malvern Thurion Heavenshield Prisoner 132 Caden Evesa Mathieu Brion Micah tol Powl

Andromeda's words proceeded them through the empty hall as they walked. Close as she was, clear as he knew her voice to be, they did little to stir the knight from his thoughts. The embarrassment he felt persisted, niggling at the back of his mind as if some sort of rodent sought to chew clean through his skull. In the quiet moments that followed his encounter with the Voss' parting gift, Varn couldn't say which he would've preferred more; the mental torment, or the physical.​

Either would've served to distract him.​

It is never that easy, alas. Casting a glance over his shoulder, the Jedi could only nod in reply. Indeed, it did seem as if the group somewhere ahead had grown since they'd last been a part of it. Varn could hear voices in the near distance, some more defined than others in the close confines of the hall. He could pick out Thurion's words, the authority with which he spoke not lost on the Jedi even at this range. The one that followed was a voice he had not heard before.​

A young woman's, it spoke of fear and worry and worse things besides. ​

The Knight and his Padawan reached the group just as the woman's words began to fade. The warning she had given Thurion went with them, though, the knight suspected otherwise. Thurion had never been one for half-measures; they would be careful, and thorough in their search. Reaching out a guiding hand, Varn placed it on his Padawan's shoulder, gently directing her towards where the other padawans stood. When he withdrew his hand, it was with neither sound nor subtle encouragement. ​

After what had occurred, he found his voice hard to find around her. Worse, he could not look her in the face; he knew his own betrayed a lot more than mere doubt.​

Stepping alongside Thurion, the Knight gave his superior a silent nod before turning to face the stairs. ​

"Let's go."​