Campaign Operation: Dark Vergence - FIRE RISING (Sith vs. Silver Jedi)

[Darth Carnifex]

​

"Onderon in range, Supreme Excellency. Beginning realspace transition in five seconds."​

​

Everything was going according to plan. Ordo's brazen attack on Onderon had drawn in the attention of the surrounding security forces, and they had trickled in slowly to counter the rising threat of the Mandalorian army. Even Australis and his brood had come from Myrkr to aid the Silver Jedi in their defense of the world, a most unexpected but fortuitous turn of events. ​

​

Taeli would have surely been pleased for another chance to avenge her unborn son, but she was attending to other business.​

​

Constant encrypted chatter from Ordo's army to the small flotilla of ships bearing down on Onderon allowed the fleet to adjust its position as it moved through hyperspace, maneuvering into the most advantageous position for their surprise attack. As the seconds ticked down on the chronometer, the crew of each ship waited anxiously for the moment to strike.​

​

It came a moment later as they exited hyperspace, three long angular silhouettes cutting through the darkness of the aether to appear behind the Silver Jedi relief force. Bursts of light ran up and down the ships lateral hull, bracketing the Silver Jedi vessels with a full unmitigated concentrated broadside barrage. Such power was levied by vessels of no known make or design, monstrously large battlecruisers segmented into two halves by a reinforced central spine with structural lattices. Though they carried no discernable transponders, they easily announced their allegiance by flooding all known channels with loud and repetitive chanting in an ancient blasphemous language.​

​

The language of the Sith.​

​

Ships launched from the vessel's hangar bays were of a similar unknown design, strange winged trident-shaped vessels which spun through the aether with the grace and poise of smaller vessels. Their multitude of cannons opened fire on the nearest ship, each pilot working in perfect tandem with one another as they soared in synchronous formation. Other vessels, landing craft, made their run towards the planet surface, including a noticeable number of shuttles and other personal craft.​

​

​

Down on the planet's surface, in the capital of Iziz, great unrest was stirring. It stemmed not just from the attacking Mandalorian army which had ravaged the countryside and threatened to overwhelm the capital, but also from the deep unsettling sensation of fear which seemed to permeate from below the city's streets. For weeks leading up to the Mandalorian attack, strange figures had been seen entering the city and then disappearing down alleys or into abandoned houses and shops. None could discern why these men and women came and disappeared, and not much attention was put into pursuing that line of thought as times were good and hardship was virtually unknown at the time.​

​

Perhaps in hindsight, they would have known to look into the sewers and forgotten network of tunnels that stretched under Iziz for miles. Perhaps they would have noticed the queer coincidences that seemed to coincide with the hooded men's arrival, the strange markings carved into stone and wood, and the perfidious odor which emanated from the cobblestoned streets.​

​

Perhaps they should have looked farther back in their history, to all of the strange disappearances of citizens which had been a constant mystery for years, not just weeks or months.​

​

But such foresight eluded the people of Iziz, and it was too late to turn back the wheel now.​

​

It started as a rush of air, followed by a cacophonous explosion that ripped apart Iziz's main market square. A plume of smoke arose from the gargantuan hole which had been created in the square, pieces of stone and corpses tumbling into the ever-widening gap as several more explosions of equal magnitude rippled across the city. From the darkness below the city streets emerged hundreds of creatures, creatures cloaked in the skin of mortal beings and ramshackle outfits of assorted fabric and metal armor. In their eyes was a wild madness, a hunger for death and destruction. With crude instruments, they fanned out across the besieged city with the intent to kill and destroy. They would spare none across their path, eager for new sacrifices to use in their depraved rituals to venerate the Dark Side of the Force and their god Typhojem.​

​

The Fellowship of the Eclipse had come to Onderon.​

​

​

A Jedi was running through the jungles of Onderon, his breath coming in great gulps as sweat slickened his brow and dripped into his eyes. Wiping at them with his sleeve, he could not see the log which lay strewn across the path ahead. Slapping into it, the Jedi tumbled head over heels to land on the foliage stricken path, a groan of pain slipping past his lips as he hauled himself up to his feet. Fear gripped him as he quickly whipped his head around to stare at the path behind him, his heart beating loudly in his chest.​

​

At first, nothing.​

​

Then his breath hitched as he saw something further down the way, and he turned around and continued sprinting full-force down the way he was heading. The Force gave speed to his movements, his fear driving him further and further forward without any heed for what lay behind him or beside him. He knew that he had to get away, escape from that great darkness which had killed his master plus the soldiers accompanying them with such frightening ease the mere memory threatened to drive him to madness even now.​

​

He was so focused on his escape, he nearly didn't see the sword flashing out from the woods towards his throat. His lightsaber activated and managed to just barely slap aside the blade, knocking it off course away from his face. He stumbled from the sudden shift in momentum, tumbling over himself before landing on his butt. Rolling over to one side, he narrowly avoided the same blade as it slammed into the ground where he was. Flipping over to his feet, he slashed at the dark figure which had been pursuing him. ​

​

Their duel was short and violent, with the Dark Being cutting off his sword hand and then depriving him of his left leg. He was forced to lay there, wallowing in the agony inflicted upon him. The tip of the sword touched the underside of his chin and drew his eyes up into the face of the man who had bested him.​

​

No, not a man.​

​

A monster.​

​

The Dark Lord of the Sith regarded him passively, no clear emotion of either variety on his stoic countenance. He spoke one a single sentence before plunging the blade into the padawan's throat, the corpse-light sloughing off the Jedi's body and siphoned into the blade that had ended their life.​

​

"Let you and your master's death be the clarion call."​

​

The Dark Side swelled in strength on Onderon, a beacon to let all of the Silver Jedi know that the arch-enemy has come.​

​

And he welcomed their challenge.​

​

Coren Starchaser ​

 

[Darth Prazutis]

It was a macabre symphony that accompanied a sight of absolute horror when the darkness descended over that thick jungle, and swallowed up the force of Onderonian soldiers, and the accompanying Jedi whole. What transpired within the jungle was so thoroughly disturbing, so terribly nausea inducing that it couldn't be truly put into words that any language could utter, nor could any tongue attempt such an undertaking. A vague description could only be attempted at what descended upon the jungles upon a maelstrom of darkness.

Apocalypse.

All hope died when the giant swept through the formation and cast them aside like dust on a gale force wind. Beneath his fury the ground shook and rumbled. Before him trees fell into showers of splintered shrapnel and a falling wave of green. The entire jungle canopy in the area shook and flocks of birds flew in chaotic spurts through the sky. Animals fled in frenzied herds it didn't matter their place in the food chain both predator and prey alike ran in sheer terror at the unfolding events. As the Dark Titan descended he did so in complete silence, his face held a frigid expression cold enough to turn water into ice, yet his blazing eyes held within them the absolute hatred for all life contained within this singular being, such depths of cruelty shouldn't have been possible. In one hand he swung a gigantic blade and blasted shredded bodies through the air.

All around him came a crimson wave, a sanguine mist, a red spatter of madness inducing violence. It wasn't enough to kill them quickly. Each methodical strike brutalized them just so the world could hear their screams as he sliced off arms and legs, disemboweling them with strikes across the stomach or bisecting them at the waist. It was only after the world received a taste of their agony that he claimed their souls, their destroyed bodies left in spreads of carnage across every inch of the ground he walked. The giant did so with a frightening ease that made them look little more than sheep before him. It was done with such speed that when the final scream was silenced. A final young man became the last to die when the great giant held him aloft in one hand, his face mere inches away from his own. The soldiers face turned purple and he squirmed and flailed to free himself before that motionless giant who stared right into his eyes, watching, waiting for the moment that the light went out with the snap of bone.

Silence.

The body hit the ground with a sickening thud, discarded like waste as the Shadow Hand moved through the foliage. The crunch of bone rang out as he stomped across the evidence of their slaughter, making his way over to where the second giant, the one and the only Sith Emperor had chased down the last Jedi and cut him down. It was at such close proximity that their dark dyad was at its strongest., they were a beacon.

"Watch the dogs come running."

Darth Carnifex | Coren Starchaser ​

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The Jedi Concord, the Jedi Order, and their war with the Sith. This was where Coren Starchaser’s focus was as of late. He was working on assisting the world of Kattada, while providing guidance to the world of Sullust in the absence of the Outer Planets Alliance. But the Sith were coming calling, and that meant Coren had his focus and purpose outlined for him. Aboard one of the SoroSuub Liberators that was in orbit around the world of Kattada, he made sure to join up with the alert fleet. It was going to be him arriving with the ship and its escorts, a pair of frigates, this vessel was serving as his impromptu command ship for the Jedi Order.

Arriving in his Y-Wing to the ship, Porter had alerted the command deck that he was here, and out of the magnetic containment shield he saw one of the frigates leap to lightspeed, right before his own ship leapt.

A few hands were coming down, a Mon Calamari Jed, serving as the impromptu Captain of the ship, and a familiar Sullustan by the way of Cuan Kunn. They offered a bow and a salute which Coren returned in order. “We have Sith coming in. Rumors in the Force indicate that Emperor Carnifex is entering the system.” The Force was always in motion but the Mon Cal Master knew that. There were certain Jedi that Coren had begun to employ, who focused on long range precognition, and he wasn’t sure how accurate they were, but if it was more than a few of them, that was why they called him.

“Great. I’ve been wondering where the old monster has been.” Coren stated in a flat tone. The Jedi Master had his pistol and his knew golden-bladed lightsaber, the one with mother of pearl laid into the handle. Cuan was the next to speak.

“We have the Tiburons on stand by, they’ll get your shuttle where you need to go. On the Lander we have the Errants, and they’re ready to go a few rounds with the Sith.” The former group was the SpecOps and Fighter Squadron founded by Coren many years back during the Alliance. The Errants were formed by Alliance-in-Exile forces, some from the Home Guard, others from the Mon Calamari, and other mixed races, who were looking for some action against the darkness. Vader reportedly had a unit, now Coren did. But his were trained differently since the Endgame fiasco for detainment of Sith targets, and defense against the forces of darkness. Some were non-Force Sensitives, some were from the Grey Paladins.

Coren was escorted towards the small armor lockers and given a jump suit, as he was already wearing his light padded body suit. He grabbed a few stun grenades and CryoBan grenades as he checked his pistol’s battery pack. The lander was prepped and a company of Errant was aboard, with their Jedi Knight ‘commander’, different than how the Concord worked, but this was Coren’s unit.

“I’ll be on your wing, General. We launch as soon as the Liberty has established the foot hold.

Darth Carnifex
Darth Prazutis
Phalsi Drynchen

 

[Hix Tribbul]

Lingering behind Kaine was a set of six vessels in the outter most reach of the vessels. Scans of the planet below having shown signs of enemies emerging from beneath the ground had the cigarra smoker smiling with the creatures that emerged. He had tagged along behind Kaine when he was told about the development on the planet. Had scrambled what he had to 'help' with the ground troops. Each one bore the australis clan tag, alongside the silver jedi markings.

Now it seemed it was time for the small cargo vessels to drop off their own surprise.

Each one of the vessels was barely large enough to hold the living being inside as they broke from dead silence to full blast on the engines. Burning hard to get to the surface as quickly as possible. They entered behind Kaine but broke away from his descent to the planet.

"Git ready boys and girls. Comin' in hot. You all got 'em riled yet?" Hix hollered over the comm link the ships were tied to. The affirmatives came through as the cargo vessels burned into atmosphere and pointed their noses towards the sinkhole.

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran Rarr

Location: Onboard Chariot-Class Transport Frigate "Deliverer", dropping onto Onderon, landing directly in the path of Lirka Ka as she treks toward the city (I think I read that right?)
Objective: Land troops on Onderon to support the defense of the planet
Allies: Inara Basai , K Kaine Australis , all other SJC and allied personnel
Enemies: The Sith and allied personnel, Lirka Ka
Loadout:

• Armor: Katarn Mk. II Combat Armor
• Clothing: Katarn Undersuit
• Primary Weapons: Predator Assault Projectile Rifle loaded with Incendiary rounds and normal 10mm slugs
• Secondary Weapons: Death-Dealer Handcannon (drop holster, right hip - loaded with Sith-Killer Ammunition), Lightsaber (clipped to waist), Lightsaber Pike (strapped to back), Wrist Mounted Blaster (right wrist), Tactical Vibroblade (right boot)

Commanding: Paladin Company

• 95 Rangers
  • 1st Platoon - 35 Rangers - Equipped with Katarn Mk. II Combat Armor and wielding Predator Assault Projectile Rifle loaded with Incendiary rounds and normal 10mm slugs - Status: Moderate Casualties
  • 2nd Platoon - 30 Rangers - Equipped with Katarn Mk. II Combat Armor and wielding Predator Assault Projectile Rifle loaded with Incendiary rounds and normal 10mm slugs - Status: Moderate Casualties
  • 3rd Platoon - 20 Rangers - Equipped with Accelerated Infantry Power Suits and associated weapon and defensive systems, wielding Bonesplitter Heavy Blaster Assault Rifles - Status: Minor Casualties
  • 4th Platoon - 15 Rangers - Equipped with Accelerated Infantry Power Suits and associated weapon and defensive systems, wielding Bonesplitter Heavy Blaster Assault Rifles - Status: Moderate Casualties

As the Deliverer jumped into the system, it didn't take long to realize that they had just jumped into a major chit-storm. A series of veritable dreadnaughts had surrounded the small flotilla that made up the Silver Jedi's ad hoc response force. Nobody had really expected an attack this deep into Concord territory, so as one might expect, a lot of people were doing a lot of scrambling.

The Captain, a nearly white-skinned Mon Calamari named Raddeus, rose from his command chair and immediately began to issue orders. "Helm," He commanded. "Bring us hard to starboard." Already the ship shook from the waves of incoming fire. Deliverer was little more than an armed troop transport and not designed to stand up to the kind of fire that the enemy force was putting out. "Redirect all auxillary power to the port shield emitters."

As the ship turned over, the Captain turned and found Colonel Constance Hague standing off to the side. "Colonel, I can only grant your people a few minutes in this system at best. Then we must withdraw."

Nodding, the Colonel strode over to one of the communications stations and sat down.

***

"Deliverer bridge to Paladin One."

Beltran cocked his head to the side, engaging his helmet's built in comlink and responded. "Go for Paladin One, Bridge." He sat in one of the drop pods, surrounded by the entirety of his platoon's first squad, including Inara Basai , who sat crammed in a few seats down.

"Captain Rarr, this is Colonel Hague. The situation is as follows. We've jumped in system and are taking heavy fire. There are several dreadnought sized cruisers around the planet and the Captain can't keep us here for more than a few minutes without losing the ship. You and your troops can drop now, but you need to know that there likely will not be any reinforcements coming for quite some time, if at all. Given that information, I won't order you to go. It's your choice."

Beltran didn't miss a beat as he spoke. "Colonel, we are go for drop."

"Understood, Paladin One. Good luck, and may the Force be with you."

And with that, little more than a dozen drop pods would be ejected from the small Chariot Frigate as it grazed the atmosphere of the now war-torn world. Some would be caught in the blanket of fire that was raining down on Deliverer from the enemy ships. And a few others would burn up in the atmosphere when their automated navigation protocols were unable to account for the abruptness of their departure.

All in all, out of fifteen pods launched, nine would land safely on the surface.

As Beltran's pod made it's way through the atmosphere, the overhead lighting would flicker as the atmosphere burned against the outside hull, shaking violently all the way. Over the Company's comnet, Beltran would take these few precious moments to speak. "When we a land," He said, his voice remaining eerily calm in the midst of all the chaos around them. "Third and fourth platoons are to push out and form a perimeter. Expect to be under fire immediately upon landing, so advance quickly and find cover. First platoon will deploy to the south to cover the jungle region. Second platoon will deploy to the north, toward the city. Once on the ground, I will attempt to get in contact with whoever is leading the defense here and see where we are needed the most."

What likely seemed to many an eternity later, the pods landed in a small cluster of clearings were the thick jungle began to meet the city walls. Out of the pods first would be third and forth platoons-the heavily armored and even heavier armed support platoons. Using their thick-plated power armor, the soldiers of these units would engage any enemy that presented itself, using their suits' powerful shoulder mounted automated blaster cannon and their equally powerful heavy blaster rifles to pepper the enemy with a seemingly impossible about of fire.

Behind them, the more lightly armed Rangers of first and second platoons would deploy as Beltran had instructed. These soldiers, armed with projectile rifles, would fire thermite incendiary rounds at the enemy, with the hope that the powerful exothermic reaction that these rounds produced upon striking a surface would be enough to melt through the-ostensibly Beskar-plated-Mandalorian armor that many of the attackers were wearing.

At the center of the deployment, Beltran and his personal squad would take up cover, zig-zagging between incoming fire and using the landed pods as barriers against it. Leaning up against one of the pods, Beltran looked over to Inara Basai and spoke. "Keep breathing," He told her via a private channel, invoking what little wisdom he could for a young woman who had likely never been in a battle like this. "Keep your head down, remember your training and shoot at anything that shoots at you."

It was really all that Beltran could spare in the way of encouragement for the girl and he had to trust that she would be able to stay alive. She was a Ranger after all, and by default that made her one of the best.

"This is Captain Beltran Rarr of the Antarian Rangers," He called out on all local SJC com channels. "I have landed just south of the city with approximately 90 troopers. We are heavily armed and ready to bring the pain, I need a direct com with whoever is leading the defense here if at all possible. Barring that, any unit commander that hears this, please respond so that we can coordinate manuevers. Captain Rarr, out."

 

[Amani Serys]

Tag: Tarish Galland
Location: Abandoned power station

Amani shook her head, “I can’t. I can’t rest. Not until it’s… until it’s done.” Images flashed through her mind, playing through all the events that led up to this moment. Elise had been captured here, on this very planet. Amani had her second chance on Yavin, and she blew it. But there the Sith Lord had given her the resolve she needed. His words were on repeat in her thoughts, an obsession.

Tarish had earned her trust. Amani stepped back so she could look him in the eyes as she spoke. “I’m going to get the Grandmaster back. Elise, she got captured here. I failed her then, and I failed her again on Yavin. The Sith still have her.” She clutched at her chest, where the scar from the Sith Lord’s attack still burned faintly. “I keep having these nightmares, Tarish. She’s in so much pain. I can feel it. And it’s my fault.” There was an edge of sleep-deprived paranoia in Amani’s voice, and she made herself pause and catch her breath.

“That’s why I left. I need to finish this. I need to get stronger. And I need to save her. But…” She huffed in frustration, the hint of corruption the dark side had begun to have on her breaking through ever so slightly. “Dammit! I don’t know how! Even if I got as powerful as I could, I don’t have any way to start looking! I need a way in!”

Amani leaned against the console, dropping her head in thought. “People keep trying to stop me, Tarish. They don’t get it. This means everything to me. The Jedi are the only family I get. And I don’t have a lot of options.” She looked back at him again, “Are you going to stop me, too?”

No sooner after she said that did the presence of the Dark Side magnify around them. “N-no way…” Amani jolted up and broke into a cold sweat as it seemed to flood the entire area. The planet screamed. It was overwhelming.Terrifying. And even more terrifying, she noticed one presence in particular: Darth Prazutis . Amani grabbed Tarish with a wild, panicked look in her eyes, “He’s here, Tarish. He’s here.” It didn’t matter how far away he was, or how unconcerned he would be with the trifles of a single padawan caught in the middle of the bloodshed. She was immediately reminded why she was afraid of it all the same. Amani had said she was going to kill him. It was a lot easier to say that within the confines of the Jedi temple. But it also fueled her anger. She didn't know what she'd do if she actually saw him.

 

[Tarish Galland]

Tag: Amani Serys
Location: Abandoned Power Plant

Until it's done.

The words rang with a resolved he recognized. She held onto herself and he could feel the sting of the darkside about her. It wasn't a pleasing feeling, but more came out. More explained what had happened, what had led to this point. What had made her walk this path. She stepped away and leaned against the console before asking if he would stop her.

Would he stop her?

He shook his head in response, denying his chance to bring her back. He would not stop her. This was something she made clear weighed heavily on her heart. Heavy enough to make her dance along the edge of corruption to achieve. Something he could not deny would force her to make choices that she would regret but live with.

Would make her do things that would hurt her heart more than anything else could.

He sat quietly for a long moment before she reacted to the presence of someone she recognized that he did not. She grabbed him in a small step away from a frenzy. Eyes showing both fear and hatred as he watched her with a growing sense of sadness. Someone that concerned her. Someone here that caused her to panic so much.

His mind went through the possibilities as he continued to feel that dark presence. His own hands wrapped around hers. A calm washing through them and into her own hands as he forced a smile.

I don't have a way in.

He could help her. In some small way, he could give her something at least. A deep breath came from him as he removed her hands and held them in his own. His gaze was soft, the force bringing a calming feeling at his touch while he spoke.

"I will not stop you. And I will try to help you. Promise me something though. Don't forget us. Don't forget why you are doing this. And don't forget me. Please. That's all I ask." He spoke with a stern tone before letting her hands go and stepping back. "I can give you an in, Amani."

He continued to step back until they were an arms length apart before drawing his saber and looking to her.

"I use that fancy style where the blade is turned on and off while fighting." He explained quietly, taking his stance before her without turning the blade on just yet. "Give in to the anger, make yourself known to them, whoever it is. And spar with me. But don't lose yourself to it."

He took a steadying breath after spouting the lie that was laced with too many truths to be discernered. He could give her a way in. But it would not be through sparring. It would hurt her in the end.

But what was a knight for the queen in the game of life?

 

[Ordo]

"Wreathed in flames he came and death came with him." - A History of War pg 64 par. 2




Fire...fire and pain. That was his world. Atmosphere blazed around him and his war droid as they dropped toward the world. Drop pods filled with teams of commandos filled the skys as heavy shells steaked by to pound the world. Sweat beaded on his face from the heat as mere millimeters of beskar separated him from annihilation.

The droid began to level as the flash suppressant visor began to clear. It was time. The ground rushed up to meet them as the droid opened fire with it's fusion rod canon and tore a gash in the worlds cust deep enough to use as cover. The massive machine dropped to the ground while its Mandalorian master leapt through the air to land some distance away.

"Kill." Ordo said through the vocabulator of his buy'ce. The war-droid as if consumed by deadly purpose turned to obey.

Risen

The droid opened up with salvos of heated rounds at buildings and people alike. Massive clawed feet of the death machine rent earth like cheap cloth as it attacked with ruthless efficiency. It crushed, blasted and burned people and vehicle alike as it made its way toward the city. It crashed against the Onderon forces and civilians like a tidal wave of steel and left nought but smoking corpses and blood in its wake.


Ordo landed in a crowd of defense forces. Their disciplined formation moving to cover one another and focus fire on him. Bolts of energy refracted off his Warmaster armor like laser pointers off a mirror. His feet touch the ground and at once he was among them. He didn't bother with weapons. They were soldiers, they were brave, well trained, and they stood their ground. Then...their blood soaked the ground where fell.

K Kaine Australis

"Warmaster." The voice came over his comm system as he fought on, "A challenge from Aliit Australis for you to head to the capital and fight him. He challenged your honor, Sir."

"Identify the source of the transmission?" Ordo asked as he caught a lightsaber of a stray jedi on his gauntlet before he impaled the young woman on his beskad.

"Yes, Warmaster."

"Then shoot it down." Ordo said as he tossed the lifeless woman aside like unwanted trash. "I don't care what they think, just that they fight and die."

"Aye, Warmaster."

The Dreadnought moved acquired a firing solution and opened fire.


Ordo continued his warpath. He set fire to buildings. Tossed grenades into crowds and opened fire on anyone to far to stab. A quartet of lightsabers hung from his belt now. He was only beginning.

 

[Inara Basai]

Location: Dropping onto Onderon
Objective: Land with troops and support the defense of the planet
Allies: Beltran Rarr & SJC allied personnel - K Kaine Australis , Hix Tribbul
Enemies: Sith & allies, Lirka Ka
Loadout:

Spoiler

Equipped with Katarn Mk. II Combat Armor and wielding Predator Assault Projectile Rifle loaded with Incendiary rounds and normal 10mm slugs

• Medical Backpack & Supplies
• Ranger's Field Pistol
• Cracken Combat Knife
• Tactical Teddy Bear!

Aboard the drop pod, Inara sat wedged between two larger rangers. There were elbows up in her helmet space as the pod jostled about on its way down to Onderon's surface.

As her eyes flickered from face to face, she tried her best to memorize them – to burn them into her mind. These people, they are important – keep them safe. Their armored forms shook along with the pod, and their features were illuminated in flickering lights, which only added to the strange sensation taking root within her.

Turning slightly to see Captain Rarr as he spoke, she admired his composure. He was calm, collected, strong – every bit what a Ranger should be. No wonder his men looked to him with such inspiration, Inara could tell, even know. After all, she was very much the outsider looking in. And when there was silence again, she clasped her hands tightly around the straps of her medical backpack and waited.

Before the pod opened, she could hear the sounds of war.

The sheer amount of fire – she couldn't even imagine it yet. And the sound alone threatened to make her feet freeze up inside the pod. But when it was her turn to exit, she moved. Her breaths seemed to echo, and for a moment she felt like she might suffocate inside her helmet. The HUD lit up, displaying friendlies and their life signs before her eyes; she did her best to stay on top of the flow of information and the rather chaotic scenery of Onderon.

She followed after Beltran, eyes on the back of his armored form as they advanced – moving when they could seize the moment between rounds coming their way. Ducking down, Inara felt to a knee, gasping despite the fact that she hadn't been running for all that long.

"Keep breathing."

The young medic let the sound of Captain Rarr's calm voice ground her. And her helmet nodded in his direction, and she gave a quiet response, “yes, sir – I will, sir.”

 

[Lirka Ka]

The murder still burned hot in her heart, shaking some of the excess blood from her clawed gauntlet Lirka watched with grim enjoyment as much of it was caught within the intricate and meticulous runes that covered her entire armored form. Maybe the Jedi slaves were good for something after all, though in truth, Lirka knew that simply just wasn't possible.

The pawns of the Jedi would burn, they would bend, and whichever ones proved themselves useful would break to her will. Such was the fate of all those who denied Thustra's Lost Queen her birthright.

And it seemed more of them were arriving now, she saw the sky burn as insertion pods poured down to the surface of Onderon with a crash, all the while she heard Imperial Comms go alight as proper warriors appeared at last: she had no love for the Sith cultists, but she would prefer them over the unwashed Mandalorian brutes any day. As she continued her trek off to war, something tingled within her.

Not the force, no, she was beyond such things now: the Force had abandoned her after her first metamorphosis, disgusted by her unnatural resurrection. But regardless, she felt it, the call of hate, the call to massacre. Her stride quickly began to morph into a loping charge, her massive metal feet crushing the earth beneath, her thermal vision stalking the forest as an ever familiar figure distantly began to appear

And a cry echoed through the field of battle, shook the trees, scattered the remaining birds: and sent nothing short of pure, unfiltered, malice and hatred into the air. One name.

"BELTRAN RARR."

It was a challenge, Lirka hungered for their bloody dance once again.

Beltran Rarr Inara Basai

 

[Salamander]

Gear: Paranoia (Armor), Regret (Sword), Suspicion (Lightsaber), Auger Personal Shield
Location: The forests of Onderon
Tags: Mi'la Undari + Open

Messala paused in his hacking away at the undergrowth. He sensed a presence up ahead. Unfamiliar, light-sided… and apparently alone.

The sounds of slaughter nearby had faded, the other Sith having headed in a different direction. Messala focused on the unfamiliar aura, removing his lightsaber hilt and holding it in his other hand unignited before he proceeded forward.

At the edge of a clearing, he saw a downed N-Wing, smoke trailing from under the hood. The pilot had her back to him, but he saw a pair of lavender lekku draped around her shoulders. A Twi’lek pilot, female… the Half-Bothan’s eyes trailed down to where a holstered blaster and two lightsabers hung at her hips. A Jedi, most definitely.

Yet she didn’t seem to have noticed him standing behind her.

Messala typically avoided confrontations with other Force Users. His inability to sense danger had landed him in trouble on more than a few occasions. But this seemed different. He had the element of surprise, an advantage not normally afforded to him. Perhaps she was not really a Jedi, but merely carrying their weapons. In which case, the odds were stacked in his favor.

But what would he accomplish by killing her? Her ship was damaged. He doubted she had anything of value on her. Perhaps, if he could convince her to surrender, he could find some use for her.

He took his first step into the clearing proper, a fallen tree branch snapping loudly underneath his hoof. To the startled Twi'lek he said, "Your ship cannot fly. You are miles away from the nearest settlement. The Sith are in these woods, killing anyone they find. Fate has dealt you a bad hand today. But if you surrender now, I promise you'll live."

 

[Mi'la Undari]

Equipment:
Adar-Class Combat Flight Suit
Lightsabers x 2
Tech Ranger's Field Pistol
Tags: Salamander

Mi'la had been in the middle of setting up her beacon, mind abuzz with what could possibly be going on. She paused for a moment as a flash caught her attention, and found she could make out several flashes up in the sky. What in the hell could possibly be going on up there? Her curious mind wanted to know. Unfortunately, she was going to have to wait until the after action reports to find out. She let out a sigh, going back to the beacon, trying to think if there was any way she could jury rig her ship and get back in the fight; sadly, she came up with nothing.

Just when she thought things couldn't get any worst, the universe stepped up to prove her wrong. She heard the crunching of a branch, and whirled around to find....another Sith? Really? Mi'la sighed, her hand coming to rub the side of her helmet where her temple would be. This one was clad in...something that looked to be more at home in a circus, and his voice reminded her of a spice dealer she met on Nal Hutta a few years back. As he spoke of surrender, her mind teased her with memories of the last time she surrendered to a Sith, and the torture that followed. Her right Lekku twitched, an involuntary response from her cybernetics. She threw her hands up, absolutely done with everyone and everything this day. Seriously, who in the feth had it out for her today? "Alright, okay, you got me." She started, turning towards the Sith fully, before dropping her hands and snapping her sabers off her belt with what muscle memory she had instilled in her. Two blue blades ignited, as she took up her Makashi stance. She might not have had the force, but she still knew how to fight with her sabers. Last time she had done this, she ended up being tortured for a week and spending nearly a month in recovery. "Pysch! Yea no. I know how you guys work. Your test subjects don't get health benefits." She remarked, making a joke like she wasn't about to just get murdered here and now. There was only one way to find out.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Onderon //:
//: Beat up some Jedi //:
//: Allies //: Lirka Ka //: Ellie Mors //: Darth Skodd //: TSE //:
//: Enemies //: Beltran Rarr //: Inara Basai //: Finley Dawson //: SJC //:

​

The jungle world of Onderon was the target. The Silver Jedi were the prey. Her feet touched against the mulching ground, feeling the moisture from the humidity. War was coming to its front, and Quinn wondered how different it would be fighting those of the light than fellows of the dark. A part of her regretted this fight. The Silver Jedi was home to her sister and their home. After the Mandalores had their way with the planet and Brynadul decided to join in on the fun, the Concord had rebuilt her broken home. ​

Thoughts of her sister lingered as she wondered if she was here. Noel was someone who was all too ready to be responsible. With their mother gone, the girl was prepared to take the mantle of their matriarch. It worried the Echani girl, knowing where her own mind was, she couldn't understand why Noel was ready to give everything up. Groaning, Quinn tried to keep Noel from her mind.​

Quinn dusted herself off, already feeling the planet's dirt clinging to her. Being near Lirka, Quinn frowned, hearing the elf scream her challenge to one of the Concord troops. Blinking, Quinn took a few steps away from the shouting Moff. ​

Exhaling, she focused her mind letting everything go. Thinking about her sister or the nerves of being on the battlefield only hindered her ability to attempt to survive. The Concord didn't take the threat on Onderon lightly, and the Echani prepared herself for the oncoming battle. The sound of the energy blade coming to life in her hand chimed, cutting through the fight's sound. ​

The golden blade felt an odd sense of comfort as she followed the angry elf into battle. Already, the fight didn't seem the same as Bastion. Things were different. They were fighting Jedi, some she might know from her sister. Why as the other Echani on her mind so much? Was she that scared that Noel would find herself on the battlefield. They had both been trained by their mother and given the tools to survive. Quinn tried to push back the thoughts of Bastion. Her failure to stay out of trouble lingered on her mind; Vesta had to stop the fight with the two Jedi to come to rescue her. ​

Knuckles turned white as she gripped the hilt, she wasn't going to be the burden this time around. ​

 

[Phalsi Drynchen]

Phalsi leapt into the Gray Messenger when the alert had come through her systems, the boring trance of the day being cut through by the commencing attack on Onderon. She packed her vessel with what she could grab, med-kits, bacta patches and sprays, along with a few extra blasters. A final scrounging through the hangar garnered a mixed blessing in the form of a few thermal detonators in the dock master's office when he was out scrambling other vessels.

Someone would have to check into the dock master's background it seemed.

Clearing from the office and into her own vessel, she waited for the signal for clear airspace before taking off. Once at the designated point, she punch the coordinates in and joined with a group of smaller vessels making the run to assist the planet. The jump to hyperspace was made from the temple, taking a might bit longer than she had hoped. The stores of supplies in her ship were not her usual collection as she checked her log for what she had been told to bring aboard.

She dearly hoped she wouldn't need to see any of these medical supplies being used.

Darth Carnifex
Darth Prazutis
Coren Starchaser

 

[Auteme]

I N S T I N C T
Iziz | Ordo K Kaine Australis Risen Darth Carnifex | Open​

Once, she might've regretted coming to an active warzone, finding herself in the middle of a battle. On H'ratth she'd been so terrified that the only thoughts in her head had been of getting to safety. Away from the fighting, away from the danger, to hide until things passed. To watch from the sidelines as others fought. Perhaps it'd been cowardice, even when she'd thought it was caution and self-preservation.

Now she found herself in the thick of the fighting. A day before the arrival of the Mandalorians she'd come to Onderon; like Bastion it'd been an inkling in her mind that something was close, that she needed to be there. When the fighting broke out she escorted civilians back to the fortified palace -- but as the battle intensified she felt that warning scream from the Force in her mind.

"Look out!" The padawan threw her hands up, pushing those she could out of the market square as she ran to the edge-

Black.

She was out for only a few seconds, but that was enough for the entire landscape had changed. Out of a great hole in the ground poured the scarred servants of darkness. The blast had leveled the entire market square, and now the cultists sprang forth to kill and maim. Auteme didn't even sense her own pain; she found the flow, and the cries of death along with it. She rose from the crippled building she'd been launched into as the insane cultists charged towards the civilians she'd pushed out of the way.

The power she felt was overwhelming yet out of her control. She was a boat on a river, subject to its whims and its flow yet still feeling that exhilaration as it pushed her forward. The padawan raised her hands and from them burst light. The blinding, burning intent of the Force caused the cultists to stagger back, just as it was a beacon for the innocent that they would be safe with it.

The flow pushed her forward. The light twisted and hardened, forming a great barrier and forcing the cultists back into the pit they'd emerged from. Every second it burned brighter and Auteme's resolve hardened.

She was there. She could make a difference. Darkness shrouded all, but the light washed it away.

It burned brighter, greater -- but against it, darkness would doubtless rise.

 

[Risen]

And in an instant, the world ended.

They appeared in the sky, tinted atmospheric blue, distant but looming. Each explosion was a sun unto itself. Each vessel was a dark and alien moon. Hellfire swarmed like the skeen of the galaxy on a clear night, debris fell like stars to broken earth. There was no other way to conceptualize what happened on Onderon that day: heaven was invading. There were no angels in its armies.

One meteor screamed over the precipice where Risen stood, limbs splayed, trailing fire to the valley below. Its destination was… No. Risen leapt from the cliff. He accelerated down its face and vaulted like a shot back towards the outpost. The thing crashed into the ground. Risen ran as fast as he could towards smoke which bloomed in huge, flaming bursts.

“NO!” The syllable shredded his throat and rattled his skull — but its sound was lost in death.

Risen slid to his knees beside a corpse. It had been thrown some distance from the outpost by concussive force, hardly recognizable. Holding the soldier’s body, cradling its bleeding head, he imagined that he knew this person: he imagined it was one of the men who had asked to come with him when he left. One life he could have saved.

But he had no tears left for these people. He regarded them numbly. It’s happening again, he thought. It’s happening again. Lurival. Nunn. Method. Tatters. Years of training, and nothing had changed. He was fast. Never fast enough.

The grinding of metal and the roaring of tall fires finally reached him. Risen lay the unnamed body down and stood, steadying himself with his spear. His shuffling step became more sure. Light like fog drifted behind him, faint and pale blue.

Open yourself to the Force. Draw it in with the breath, as much as your body and soul are capable of containing. That’s what he was taught. Energy pulsed against his veins like it was trying to escape. It drove him to move, act, fight. He passed through the cracked entryway in slow paces, towards the grating sound, to the heart of it, a beast that was destroying the nothing that remained.

Risen raised the point of his spear towards it in challenge.

Ordo

 

[Darth Carnifex]

​

"They will stumble over themselves in their haste, and it will be their undoing." He reached out and clasped his Shadow Hand by the shoulder, a token of brotherly affection shared only between the two of them. "Come, we make our way to Iziz, the Fellowship will have broken their solidarity." With no one to stand against them between the woods and the capital of Iziz, the Emperor and his Shadow Hand moved like wraiths along the dirt paths worn down by centuries of footfalls. They were as blurs to the mortal eye, the rush of air that followed them the only indication that anything of significant size had moved. As they neared the walls of Iziz, they released the energy bound within their legs and soared high through the air to land, not atop the walls, but further into the city's urban sprawl.​

​

The Emperor's descent brought him directly into conflict with several of the city militia, who were struggling to keep the cultists of the Fellowship at bay. A flash of his sword ended their defiance in the span of a couple of moments, their desiccated corpses collapsed to the blood-slickened cobblestone with a dry wheeze. The mere sight of such towering behemoths invigorated the Fellowship who saw them, leading them to pronounce their arrival to the city with a great and jubilant chant of promised violence and plentiful sacrifices.​

​

Carnifex did nothing to slow or stop their jubilation, it was a required element of their plan.​

​

Walking out from the alleyways of Iziz and into what remained of the destroyed market square, the Emperor's eyes swept over the destruction his pawns had wrought on the city. For weeks they had congregated in the great fortress hidden below Iziz's streets, organized and primed to make their explosive debut when the time was right. Now they rushed out into the daylight, hungry for blood and eager to serve the ruinous will of the Sith. Yet, there were those who sought to contain the tide, to drive the servants of darkness back into the abyss from which they scuttled out.​

​

He spied the Jedi responsible, and with great aim and strength, he threw his runeblade like a javelin through the air towards her. ​

​

Darth Prazutis | Coren Starchaser | Auteme ​

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

When Joycelyn was a young girl, she had been introduced to the One Sith as a prospective acolyte.

She did not remember the war in which Onderon fell, but she did remember Iziz. The skyline had changed, but the streets beneath her feet felt the same. The air now filled with acrid smoke, but the feeling of the breeze against her cheek was the same as it had always been.

But the difference lay in the weight of the armour encasing her form, the spear in her hand, and the ever watchful presence of Zaudraka at her side. Last she had set foot on Onderon, it was her father who carried the moniker of Darth Vornskr. Now, Darth Vornskr II lowered the visor of the Imperator's Raiment.

The com unit adjusted, seemingly on its own, as she followed the streak of a ship descending. She locked it with her rangefinder, calculated the trajectory versus the weight of her weapon, then spun the spear in her hand as she turned her back on the falling bes'uliik.

Could she do it?

It was worth a shot. She had wasted such chances before.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then turned again. She gathered momentum from the rotation and added on a small run before coming to a sudden halt as she transferred all that momentum to her arm. The force surged through her and the spear as she threw it with all her unnatural might, sending it in a path to intercept K Kaine Australis ' descent. The bloodshine blade carved a red path through the sky as the songsteel whistled at a high pitch.

The Princess watched closely, her lobstered gauntlet wrapping around the hilt of Zaudraka.

The sithsword heated in her hand, begging to be unleashed, begging to burn this planet down. Let all the memories fade, let there only be fire and shade. Let there only be the vornskr, ripping its prey.

 

[Auteme]

Iziz | Darth Carnifex | Coren Starchaser Darth Prazutis ​

The brief moment of safety produced by the barrier was broken when the Force screamed at her. No -- it roared. The flow pulled her to the side and twisted her body, just as the sword shattered her barrier. It tore through the air; she watched the weapon pass inches from her face. Time slowed as she stared at it.

The blade was a grey-black. Mullinine, probably; given how sharp it was. Sprinkled across it was the telling silver sparkle of Devaronian Blood Poison gemstones. This was a weapon meant to inflict great pain, yet still one meant to kill efficiently. And the runes... she wasn't well-versed enough in Sith to translate it immediately, but she knew the runes spoke of darkness and light. The black electrum hilt signified that whoever the wielder of this weapon was, they were a master of it.

As terrifying a weapon it already was, she could sense something sinister lurking just under the surface. A hunger, a madness -- of the soul. The darkness that roared out of the weapon was impossible to ignore. Just past it she could feel the screams of the souls that it had devoured; the last moments of the dead, their agony continuing into eternity to fuel the blade. And just past that, a connection. A connection that lead-

She stumbled to the side, catching herself as she found the weapon's owner.

Her heart stopped.

Auteme had never seen the Sith Emperor before. She'd never even tried to look him up on the Holonet -- well, once, a few years ago, but she soon realized that he was the type to change bodies regularly using Dark Transfer. But one look here and she recognized the Sith Titan.

One look and everything around her faded as the fear gripped her. She'd done her best to conquer her own demons but this was another matter entirely. The maelstrom of darkness that stood across the square felt all-consuming. Who was she, to stand against that? Her legs shook, threatening to give out from under her.

No. No, she had to resist. To be strong. Courage- she couldn't have courage without fear, right?

Right?

Find the flow. Find the flow. Find the flow.

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

Even as every thought screamed to run, to hide, to do anything to get out, the Force kept her standing. It whispered to her. Everything else faded to the background.

She stood on her own two feet, pivoting to fully face the Sith Emperor. She couldn't run, couldn't hide. When evil threatened the innocent she needed to stand and face it. Everyone did.

As the Force took control of her motions she rationalized to herself the very stupid thing she was about to do.

"DISTRACTION!" She screamed and pointed to the Sith's left as she reached into her bag. A moment later she produced a Force crystal, the only one she had left from her expedition to Chandrila. The fist-sized crystal sparkled -- that latent heat, energy, Force that she felt within it was a comfort, a comfort that strengthened her enough to keep going. She threw her hands together with it, encasing herself in a protective bubble that roared with the same light as before.

Her body felt like it was on fire. Every movement sent waves through her body and mind; she couldn't tell if it was fear or resolve. The crystal she held was already threatening to burst, but she pushed forward, channeling its energy into thick strands of light that shot out from her hands and towards the Sith.

If she could stop him for a moment, she thought, she would be able to make a difference.

This page is claimed by about to get curbstomped gang

​

 

[Amani Serys]

Tag: Tarish Galland
Location: Abandoned power station

He took her hands, and in a moment calm washed over her as she looked back up at Tarish. Amani’s breathing slowed, and she composed herself, sighing in relief when he said he wouldn’t stop her. She bowed her head with wordless thanks, before his next words drew her gaze back.

"Promise me something though. Don't forget us. Don't forget why you are doing this. And don't forget me. Please. That's all I ask."

Amani gave him a blank stare at first, before her face grew stern and hardened with resolve. “I promise. I won’t forget. I won’t.” The Dark Side was many things, forgiving not one of them. She would be tested, she understood this. At least, she thought she did. “...Thank you, Tarish.”

The knight stepped back, drawing the hilt of his weapon. Amani blinked confusedly, and then it clicked. “Yeah… I get it! We’ll put on a show.” She drew her pike, weighing it in her hand as she took in his words. “Right. Give in. Don’t lose yourself. I can do this.” There was too much going on for her to read any further into it. The ramifications of staging this fight, the dangers that would follow, nor the hidden meaning behind Tarish’s words.

This would need to become a public display. It needed to be seen for it to work. But it was a dangerous line to walk, if it looked too fake, then it would only make things worse. So much was going on around them, trying to think about this only made her head hurt more. Now was a time for action. “Alright. I trust you. And, um… just so you know, you’re probably not going to like seeing this.”

Amani extended her arm, holding the haft horizontally in front of her as she began to channel the Force. The sheer amount of darkness that permeated the area around them made it easy to dip into. The aura of the Force around her rumbled before settling. Her pike ignited, corrupted and bled into a maroon blade. Her first step on the path had already been taken. Time to just go for it.

Amani lunged forward.