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

[Darth Prazutis]

The path of the Shadow Hand sent him crashing right through a force of militia that had attempted to reinforce the struggling defenders, desperately trying to hold back the tide of the Fellowship of the Eclipse. For weeks the operation had been delicately prepared, the minions of the annointed Eclipse Lords gathering beneath Iziz in the stronghold of their Fortress of Ommin. They barely had enough time to register the terrible calamity that befell them before the brief strokes of horrific blades slaked the hungering instruments of death with the blood and souls of the weak. Their presence in the city spread like fire through a dry season woodland inciting these wicked, depraved, psychopathic killers and sycophantic worshipers of the dark side. They were twisted into puppets driven toward malfeasance by the spurring of their blasphemous masters, who were themselves mere pawns to the two great behemoths who strode like towering gods of war, titans of a lost age through the streets.They came to the sounds of howls, shrieks, and whispers. Their presence incited the blighted souls towards even filthier acts of depravity unleashed upon the city of Iziz.

Jedi.

A youth. A padawan of the next generation seeking to make a difference, embodying hope in physical form tried to become a beacon that would stem the tide of darkness. She willingly faced down the Sith Emperor, the long titan who dominated her attention and with an admirable swiftness erected a shield to defend herself from the agonizing sting of Derriphan as it surged through the air towards her. The admirable Jedi pushed through strife to unleash her own assault in the form of arcs of light that surged towards the Imperial Sovereign. It was perhaps at this time - too little too late that she would suddenly see the other giant come into view. The Lord of Lies, the Shadow Hand of the Sith Emperor and the Supreme Commander of the Sith-Imperial War Machine, an architect of violence that drowned innumerable populations in death. The great giant stepped in front of her attack and allowed the pure light to strike him dead in the chest.

The immense armor he wore suddenly exploded in a flash of light and sparks as the force light struck the runes carved across every plate, every piece of Sarrassian Iron meticulously forged and bathed in the profane science of alchemy and etched with a forbidden sith rune pattern. It was a pattern created by the two Sith Lords who stood before Auteme to target force light, the greatest ally to the Jedi in the fight against darkness. As soon as the light collided the runes became the bulwark that drew the light in and converted it into harmless neutral energy that sparked and splashed off the black plates without harming the Sith Lord within. The Mountain merely pointed his immense runeblade Daesumnor, the sister-blade to Derriphan towards the young woman and spoke one word.

"Burn."

The world glowed. It was an eruption of pure dark side energy manifested in the form of cobalt colored flame that exploded in an immense wave. The normal blast might've been smaller, a more measured strike from the Lord of Lies yet not here, not now. Not while he stood so close to the Sith Emperor. Only a select few knew how truly close they had become, the connection they shared. In combat they fought together as one single, unified presence in the force. Their individual, colossal might congealed together and amplified one another. The blast of dark side fire in this presence was an immense explosion that turned the cobblestone beneath their feet into glass, melting stone and glass as it surged towards the padawan.

Darth Carnifex | Auteme | Coren Starchaser
​

 

[Torrack Torrackstur]

Tags: Darth Carnifex Ordo Forjund Australis Kreslin Westwind Venku Bralor Amani Serys Mi'la Undari Tarish Galland Salamander Inara Basai Darth Zveris Kaalia Pavanos Kat Decoria Beltran Rarr Lirka Ka Risen Auteme Phalsi Drynchen Quinn Varanin


Unit: (Mortar Platoon) https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/57-silyepr-temyaa-traatika-mortar-platoon.141493/#post-1945416
Gear: (Armor) https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/torracks-beskargam.141494/#post-1943718
(Repeater) https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/grinkov-heavy-blaster-repeater.106358/


Location: Northern hill overlooking the capital city


War, a lifestyle choice amongst mandalorians and a means to an end for warmongering and sleezy politicians. One thing was certain, there would be many new and old faces in this coming battle that was about to be fought. As the battle was about to rage, reinforcements would begin to arrive and apart of the reinforcement wave was the 57th mortar platoon. An elite unit made of veterans who had fought the many battles throughout Clan Australis's existence, known for the extreme conditioning this unit expects it's members to go through. As well as the insane firing rate of the veteran unit, this unit was about to see action yet again. Under the command of Torrack Australis, a crude and rude gamorean; the 57th would do all the necessary preparations needed before landing.

Many were quietly breathing as they got into their positions , others were casually talking due to this being another inaugural combat drop. The chatter would end when the rally master wearing his neo crusader, custom beskargam and wielding his heavy repeater walked into the gathering area of the dropship. Looking through the T-visor of his bucye his head would look left and right at his comrades and soldiers that he was commanding. Still the crusader was silent whilst moving around to inspect the unit, the boar squeaking and hoink normally as he pasted each mandalorians.

The drop ship had been experiencing turbulence as the ship rustled back and forth, despite this most were strapped in and waiting before the landing would commence. After much silence but the turbulence the swine warrior would speak with authority so those in the back could hear their leader and commander. "Now, squeak squeak most of you are veterans of many battles. squeak squeak However for the newbies amongst us, REMEMBER YOUR TRAINING! HOINK HOINK AND YOU WILL MAKE IT BACK ALIVE, SQUEAK SQUEAK OR ATLEAST DIE A SODDING WARRIORS DEATH! " .

The green skinned being would pause, the speakers of his bucye would blare again with his porker like voice. "I OSIK (shit) MY PANTS THE FIRST TIME I WENT TO BATTLE , SQUEAK SQUEAK ! BUT I KILLED EVERY KARKING ARUELITI IN FRONT OF ME, SQUEAK SQUEAK YOU WILL DO THE SAME NEWBIE! NOW EVERYONE ,HOINK HOINK WE ARE GOING IN THE FIRST WAVE! IT JUST MEANS THERE ARE MORE THUNDER HUMPING ,SISSY SQUEAK SQUEAK ,SITH TO KILL! WHEN WE GET OUR MONKEY ASSES ON THE GROUND, SQUEAK SQUEAK YOU FOLLOW ME TO THE FIRST HILL WE SEE THAT IS OVERLOOKING THE CAPITAL CITY! DO YOU GET ME?! SQUEKER HONKER HOINK".

After addressing the unit, the mandalorians would address their rally master with a resounding and confident tone. "JATNE VOD( yes sir)!". After much time and silence the mentor of both Venku and Forjund would walk up to both of them. "In the event I am killed, squeak squeak you two will take my troops and find Kaine. squeak squeak Assist him however possible, when the Mandalorian Union finds out a founding A'lor is under attack. Squeak squeak They will come to reinforce the jedi and we will crush these emo eye looking cunts. squeak squeak..".

After informing both of them of the emergency orders, the berserker would smack both of them on the shoulder. This tough love would likely cause both of them to grunt, this would make him give a pig like laugh to ease the tension they both were likely feeling. Even tho the hearty individual was being soft, the brutes hard touch would likely give a light bruise on both of their backs.

However their was not much time for them to respond, the combat drop would begin as the explosion from Kaine's charges would detonate in the atmosphere about. As the ship's ramp would drop, the warrior would open communication with his A'lor Kaine; As well as the Jedi Forces. "This is rally master Torrack Australis, squeak squeak I am in command of a mortar platoon, squeak squeak located in the northern hill overlooking the capital city of this planet. Just give us fracking coordinates, squeak squeak and we will pound them harder then a bunch of whores on Nal Hutta! hoink hoink OYA! SQUEEEK SQUEEEEK".

The Platoon would quickly trudge with their weapons, ammunition, and equipment to the hill mentioned. Despite the equipment being heavy, their elite conditioning conducted by Torrack allowed them to jog quickly to where they were needed. "VENKU, SQUEAK SQUEAK, TAKE FIRST SQUAD AND HAVE THEM SET UP ON THE LEFT FLANK OF THE HILL AND AWAIT ORDERS!HOINK HOINK" .

The berserker quickly and angerly looked now at Forjund, "FORJUND, QUICKLY HOINK HOINK , TAKE FIFTH SQUAD AND TAKE THE RIGHT FLANK OF THE HILL AND SET UP AND AWAIT FECKING ORDERS! HOINK HOINK" . Now looking forward he would speak to squad 2-4,"THE REST OF YOU WITH ME, WE SET UP IN THE MIDDLE AND TOP OF THE HILL! HOINK HOINK" . The space battle above was about to get loud and the ground battle was about to begin, the side that was most organized for the ground would win. Moving quickly, the beskargam would clank loudly as the crusader quickly made way to the hill and began conducting squad 2-4 with "motivating language".

The reader can likely guess, considering the foul mouth Torrack had.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Loaded up. He took a moment before running his thumb over the ring on his left hand, the ring that helped connect him to Celeste Rigel and the girls. He was the Jedi that they needed, and he was the Jedi that the Concord needed. Never did he doubt he’d make it him, any time he launched on a mission, but that moment he launched for combat, in a vessel he wasn’t piloting? It always made him jumpy, for a second. Reaching out in the Force, he could feel Cuan Kunn off his wing, and the Jedi Knight, the Mon Calamari known as Kyalt aboard with him, he could feel other Jedi in the area, including Phalsi, including Carnfiex, including Prazutis. As the ship launched, he could feel the jolt of energy in everyone.

Reaching out, he was centering himself in the Force, calling the light to him, to aid the ship in its path, giving it protection. He was calling out to Jedi who needed a rallying point that he was coming. He was joining them, and as they broke atmosphere and he felt the inertia, he could feel the darkness coming. He could feel good as well.

This… This was where he felt comfortable. There was already a call going out to Concord forces that Coren Starchaser was on the field.

And to the rest? Coren was starting to call on the Force as the ship touched down, h e was looking for his foe.

Where are you Carnifex he called out in a blast of brilliant Force power as the boarding ramp opened and he and his unit stepped onto the planet.

Auteme Phalsi Drynchen Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

MOOD

C ar Ni F eX​

The Mistress of Malcontent's Amulet against his chest, she is summoned by the Darkness living vibrantly within the vacant hallows of his cold beating heart. Still it beats? If he needs it to, that is. But welcoming arms, and memories stirred between, comfort in these two, as best as it gets at least for one, for the other has his harem. She don't need him all the time. She don't want him all the time. He is a him and that is his failing. But she don't want a her either, her curse. The Fanged God is a cruel him, a very cruel him to design the needs of a woman, if he ever did do such a thing, which the Nightsister doubts he ever had half a brain to be able to do. No he is no god to all that exists, just laid claim over Dathomir and his Witches bleed him dry for it.​

No metal contraptions.​

No visor.​

Just her head.​

More strength and reliance upon her ethereal existence than what you see.​

The anger is the Sith's power, who draw it into themselves.​

The anger is the Nightsisters power, she fashions with it externally in its element. Maybe this is the reason why her Sith feel sooo very fine!​

She knew enough of the galaxy, this one from Dathomir, to know that the Light and her are simply diametrically opposed…and like ever does the Light's revolting purity turn her stomach! After months of carrying Darth Carnifex 's baby of monstrous proportions, —her babe nearly ate her from the inside out, at 1/10th her body weight— and Pom cannot yet escape wanting to puke, the first place she comes after her daughter's birth is into this Light?!​

She shrieked in absolute pissed-off angry beyotch m@$r+f#*n mode!!​

'Oh no! This one is not stepping out from the security of the Nether into this hideous mess! The Emperor need carpet more and more darkness over the whole system to please his Mistress this time!'​

The Nightsister arrived like a flaming meteor cutting through the atmosphere, generating a sonic boom. She tore through the physical realm a porthole to her Darkness bled from her most preferred existence into the open light she detested. Still safely tucked away, she shook her face in revulsion. The Nightsister stood on the land amidst the turmoil but also/and mostly within the Nether. ​

The Matriarch opened her mouth wide and exhaled in ecstasy as her coven members poured forth as black smoke trailing out of her breath, taking on the forms of 12 additional Nightsisters dressed in solid black cloth. They landed one by one, forming a circle around their Matriarch. Then immediately began chanting together, loudly and in unison, remaining protected inside the veil of the Nether. ​

Their Spell intent on luring the living within hearing range to march towards the gateway, and enter without fear. Safety exists where this beautiful one is calling to you. Who will please your Mistress? Who will become her favorite?​

They called out only to the men to come forward. How the Nightsisters love to deal to the men what they deserve.​

'We know what you do…'​

 

[Tarish Galland]

Tag: Amani Serys
Location: Abandoned Power Plant
Objective: Fight for your life

He gave a nod to her words before the pike snapped to life, and he gave a soft whistle at rhe display before she rushed him. He didn't draw on the force for this fight just yet, instead opting to focus on his advantage given the tight quarters.

She charged him, and the hilt drew forward prepared to parry the pike before he backstepped once to change the point she tried to charge.

The saber ignited to push the blade aside as his free hand moved forward to attempt to grapple her forward hand on the pike, a smile forming as he moved.

"Pikes are good for open fields ans wide corridors. But tight spaces you will need to practice hand placements to maximise your attacks." If he caught her hand, he would pull her through his space and hold a foot out to trip her.

If it failed he would try to put himself closer to her, attempting to lock her up by proximity and removing some moving room to get away from the crimson blade.

 

[Salamander]

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

Messala cracked a smile behind his helmet. “Who said I would use you as a test subject?” he purred, igniting his own red lightsaber. “You’re rather too old for that now.”

As a Sith, tradition dictated that he ought to be the one to strike first. Messala assumed that she wouldn’t fight until he forced her to, so he waited a few moments, continuing to observe her. She fell into a combat stance with practiced ease, but she trembled slightly. Nervousness? Or fear?

Without warning, he charged forward, aiming a blow at her legs with his lightsaber. He followed it up with a slash at her legs with his sword, using a modified version of Niman. Once the Twi’lek began to fight, she would notice that his reaction times were not as swift as those of typical Sith—he couldn’t foresee her strikes before they happened, only predict them based on set styles of combat. But his predictions were usually vague at best. He was a reactionary combatant… and while physically fit, he was not as young and agile as his opponent.

 

[Mathieu Brion]

K H E L. vs. .B R I O N

Objective: Find and rescue friendly Knight
Group: None
Tag: Khel

The streets laid heavy with rubble and small fires were still burning solemnly. War was never just or fair and this particular suburb had been hit hard. Most of the buildings already laid in ruin and the streets were marked by the impact of artillery fire, grenades and suffering. The plants and small trees that used to decorate the town were long gone - not to mention the sentients. A few speeders could still be found from place to place, but most of them were heavily damaged and mere wrecks. The war had moved on, however, and while the intense frontline battles were still raging on, all that could be heard were faint hints of explosions or fighters in the distance.

Mathieu sighed as he made his way across what had once been a suburb. Despite all the tragic and utterly evil events which had taken place there, it now seemed oddly peaceful. For a brief moment, his thoughts went to Inara Basai whom he had fought side-by-side with on numerous occasions. The Padawan's thumb pressed against the dogtag she had given him before they parted ways. Perhaps it would have been safer if they had continued working together but there was little which could be done about it now. All he could do was to trust. To trust her skills and to trust the Force.

It had not been long since he last saw action - in a way, Mathieu had been fortunate enough to have found a good sparring partner in the Jedi Knight Cadere and a Master who was willing to train him in combat in Kei Westbrook . Along with more than enough experience, he was rather well prepared to see the horrors that had taken place on Onderon. Still, all was not the same. Instead of wearing heavy armour like he usually did in larger battles, the former Mercenary now only wore a chest plate under his robes to keep him safe from stray blaster bolts and blunt force. Having lost both his blaster pistol and training sword in battle, he now only carried a vibrosword and his trusty stun baton. Naturally, he still had his stim regulator installed and without any reason to take it off, the Ashla's Guard wristcuff still hung around his arm.

In a way, he felt bad for coming to a place where battle was not active. His mission was to find a Jedi Knight who had last been heard heading to the suburb - but it had been too long since they last reported in and so, the Padawan was sent to assist however possible. The town was assumed to be deserted - the danger levels were assumed to be low but in the end, Mathieu's connection to the force meant that he was more likely to find and help the Knight better than many others.

So far, all which had been found were corpses of fighters from both sides. It was horrible. But then, there was something which seemed to draw the Morellian toward the central plaza of the ruined town. It was a sense of hope which pulsated from it - but also a sense of fear, evil and danger. His steps quickened, something bad was about to happen and he had to prevent it. He turned around the corner, and there it was, the plaza.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

​

Derriphan had embedded itself in the stone wall of a building some distance away, sinking down to the hilt from the sheer force of its impact and the sharpness of its blade. Anything that had come between it and its resting place had suffered its wrath, blood staining the cobblestones on a clear line from the Emperor to the wall where it rested. Fortunately for the Jedi, her preternatural senses had anticipated his attack and allowed her to just narrowly evade the sword as it sung through the open air, though there were plenty who were not as fortunate.​

​

As Prazutis moved to absorb the Force Light employed by the Jedi, the Sith Emperor reached out and seized his blade with a telekinetic grip. It broke free of the stone wall and flew back into the Emperor's hand effortlessly, his armored fingers tightening around the hilt as it rested against his palm. The runes inscribed on the sword's flat seemed to burn brighter when in the hands of its wielder, even more so as it came in proximity to its sister blade; Daesumnor. In truth, the two swords mirrored the connection shared by their respective masters. The closer each one was to the other, the stronger each became. Carnifex and Prazutis shared a bond so strong that their mere presence caused the other's power to multiply exponentially, and the same in return. Their conjoined strengths a veritable maelstrom of darkness stronger than any single concentration of Dark Side energy found on Onderon.​

​

And as darkness rised, so too did light to meet it.​

​

He could sense him, looking for him, seeking him out. ​

​

Starchaser.​

​

He would come, and they would again battle. This time, however, the Emperor of the Sith resolved to see his rival beaten and broken at his feet. The bait would have to be laid to lure Starchaser into his clutches, and that would require some preparation on his behalf. Looking to his Shadow Hand, the Emperor spoke in a tongue known only to them. "He is here. Deal with this child as you please, I must face him. I will return to you when my task is completed." Wreathing himself in shadow, the Dark Lord of the Sith moved like a phantom across the broken cityscape of Iziz, ascending the stairs of the Unifar Temple. With a single swing of his sword he broke the statue which summited the upper steps, whittling it down into an impromptu throne upon which he seated himself.​

​

And waited.​

​

Coren Starchaser | Darth Prazutis | Auteme ​

 

[Amani Serys]

Tarish Galland
Abandoned power station

She was still holding back, and Tarish was ready for it. Amani stumbled forward right into his ploy, tripping over his foot. The padawan managed a quick recovery, holding her hands out in front of her and moving with the fall, springing off the ground and gaining some distance with a leap. Stupid. Amani cursed her own foolishness, frustration already growing, amplified by the wellspring of dark power she was drawing on.

Don’t lose yourself.

“You’re not seriously trying to give me a lecture now, are you?” She gave a single, exasperated laugh, before suddenly hurling her weapon at him like a javelin. She would miss intentionally, but barely. A distraction. If it worked, she could use the lapse in his focus to throw him to the ground with the Force. By then, she could summon her pike back to her, and strike him while he was down. If not, she would attempt to return it anyways, following up with an attack from behind as the javelin changed course.

Don’t lose yourself.

 

[Forjund Australis]

Unit (Mortar squad): https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/57-silyepr-temyaa-traatika-mortar-platoon.141493/#post-1945416
Gear: https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/...-dp-02-class-d-heavy-disruptor-pistol.138085/ x2
https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/m-37-bwatha-heavy-rifle.4725/ x1
Location: Right flank of the Northern Hill overlooking the capital.


"Yes Sir!" He replied eagerly, "Fifth Squad, with me! Lets go boys!" He started jogging in the direction of the hills right flank, the closer they got the more they split off from the main unit, the more gutwrenching this scenario had gotten. He remembered the last time his people had fought the sith, the end result was not the best, swallowing his fears he advanced onwards. Eventually after what felt like hours they reached the hill, his heart still pounding he gave the order for his men to set up here, once they began to place down and prepare the mortars he turned his head to the skies. Seconds after he did the light of a nearby shell lit up the nearby skyline, things were getting heated.

After conversing with the men he realised they were all set up, he began to watch the city. Dreading what may come out of there, what they may have to face, he reached for his pistol and gripped it tight. He was a Mandolorian, they would hold, do their part, fight valiantly but most of all they would win, for him there was no other outcome. Most likely his thoughts were shared by the majority of other Mandolorians, who would soon be fighting and dying alongside their comrades, Pushing down his mouth piece he spoke "Torrack? Sir are you there? Any targets sighted?". After that he began steeling himself for whats to come and doing the only thing he could do, hold his ground and wait for orders.

Tags: Torrack Torrackstur Venku Bralor

 

[Laertia Io]

Wearing: Black Knight Chitin

Armed with: The Sword of 007 Blessings

Momentary Discomfort

Crime Hunter's Pistol (Cryo Configuration)

Moya's Wrist Launcher (Incendiary, Sonic, and Poison Tipped bolts at 5X each)

Blaster Shotgun (Arm Mounted)

CR-1 Blaster Cannon

Came to Onderon in: The Shadow Bride

Objective. Take the fight to The Heretics near the Onderon Royal Palace

(Character Theme Song Power Up)

(Theme: "For Your Eyes Only" by Sheena Easton Plays)

The advanced Micro-Warship that jumped out of hyperspace exited guns blazing, its multiple weapons ripping apart multiple Sith Starfighters as it cleared a path for the multiple Jedi Starfighters and troop transports behind it.

The ship itself was loaded with Jedi Shadows and Guardians, as much as it could carry without impacting maneuverability.

The warship was a dread beast of obsidian broken up by the crimson of its cockpit. It had been based off of ancient designs. She had a taste for irony when taking fights to the Sith...it was based off one of their designs. She had crushed a Sith's skull in front of a graduating class of Purge Troopers for it. Then she had used his body as a club to kill the graduates before ripping and tearing through the facility until it was done.

This was a high tier loot sort of vessel, is what I'm saying.

Laertia did not consider The Shadow Bride anything but a weapon, yet when she piloted it, she could not help but connect the sensation of piloting it to that of being with a secret lover, in comparison to her preferred ship, a heavily modded Dynamic Class. Maybe that was why she had named it The Shadow Bride.

For Laertia, this 'was' the closest she could get to the concept of having a lover at all. She had a weakness for vehicles just like her "Grandmother", the Light Side Sith Lady Darth Themis, and apparently her father as well. If anything The Blessing was the third thing after the Rabbits, with Moya before the rabbits, that Laertia loved unquestioningly.

Which is why she felt uneasy piloting it...on some weird level, it felt like cheating on The Blessing. But it was such a dream to pilot. Sure, the Shadow Bride moved slower, but that was only because it didn't need to move for anybody.

(Cutaway of Joe Pesci stabbing that one guy in the Car Trunk in Goodfellas.)

The Bride was a spear tip, smashing through the defenses the Sith were trying to set up to block reinforcements from reaching the surface, its turreted heavy cannons swatting aside flanking attempts and missile attacks, launching concussion missiles at one larger Sith ship and bursting it like a garbage bag. Fighters launched their own missiles at her but her accurized turrets blasted them.

"Cerakote 1 to any allied forces! My squad has sustained heavy KIA! Requesting reinforcements!" Her comm blared, picking up the friendly distress signal and diverting course, all weapons locked on the Sith Starfighters. There were a chit ton. Dozens.

The Shadow Bride plowed into combat. Laertia's head pounded. She forced herself to focus. This was her second time since Atrisia when she was really calling the shots fir anything. In the past she would have quaked at the prospect of leading so many. Now it was a dull but ever present worry. She gunned the engines to maximum. Her crosshairs turned red, the CRX calculating distance and range on the Sith Interceptors, and then began shearing through them via an all out attack from her laser and ion cannons, directing friendly Jedi starfighters that had followed her in from hyperspace to cut off any attempt at escape.

"Mayntaynz Forrmayshunn" Laertia ordered the two flanking her as she launched a concussive missile at an interceptor, hitting another with rockets from one of her ships general purpose warhead launchers. Her pursuit of the fighters was unsophisticated...she lacked the finesse of real dogfighter pilots. But her sheer dogged determination to chase something down, the jammers on her ship frustrating her enemies attempts at targeting her, her heavy armor and shield taking whatever did get through, and the severe damage and accuracy of her weapons made her a slow, plodding nightmare for the Sith Interceptors that tried to take her on. Either she destroyed them or her wing mates did.

She expended all but two of her concussion missiles as she shredded the last two Interceptors, barely acknowledging the dozens of destroyed fighters now burning up in the atmosphere because of her and her squadron as she decended to the planet, raining lasers on enemy ground forces, her hull shuddering as it withstood a heavy amount of laser fire, her squadron carpet bombing the massive amount of tanks trying to hem in allied ground forces, her heavy laser turrets blasting everything below that didn't have SJC colors on their military equipment, strafing the ground repeatedly and viciously bombarding enemy personnel with laser bolts until she had killed nearly every enemy in the immediate area. She directed the squadron that had accompanied her to continue disrupting enemy ground forces by any means necessary.

Warning alarms caused her to veer her ship away from a rail gun cannon on the ground, which launched a highly accurate spray she only somewhat dodged, blasting off two of her turrets and damaging an engine. Time to Land and take the fight on foot.

Her ship landed in an allied zone that had been on the front line of the streets. She had bought them maybe a fifteen minute breather. There were legions of Sith Soldiers. She filed off the ship with the other guardians, her pink blade activating as four platoons of SJC rushed to meet her in the besieged streets. It had been a long time since she had visited Onderon. Part of her training had been conducted here.

"Stattuss?" She asked a Sergeant as she walked up to him.

"We stand ready to assist you. Your last attack sent them reeling, but they are tripling their efforts trying to sieze this sector. Our forces are pinned down by blaster nests and rail gun artillery.

"Notz fer mucch lonnguh..." Laertia said quietly, brandishing her pink blade. "Followz meez. I gotz a plannz..."

 

[Venku Bralor]

Goal: secure the left flank of the hill
Tags: Torrack Torrackstur Forjund Australis

Venku stood with his Torrack, naturally golden eyes scanning the battlefield. Despite training under the gamorean, he had never seen so much death in one place. Nor so many sith. Anger curled in his gut. His force presence mimicking the emotion, pulsing anger in time with his heartbeat. He pushed it to the back of his mind. He was used to going into fights angry, but that was different than fighting angry. To say nothing of the force, the emotion itself made one sloppy. He couldn't do sloppy. Not with others counting on him.

Torrack's voice cracked across the comms, delivering orders and expletives alike. "Elek jatne vod!" (yes sir!) The mandalorian motioned squad one to follow him as he switched to the correct comm frequency. He led the squad up the hill at a brisk pace, eyes scanning the surroundings as he did so. They made it to the top easily. Venku helped the verde set up the mortars, having had much practice at this by now. The war itself not so much.

The battle spanned bellow, a mix of individual fighters and organized troops like his. The sheer scale of it astounded him. Hundreds of people fought and died for this world. Jedi, sith, mandalorian, or native, it didn't matter. Not to death. To his right, he noted Torrack and forjund cresting the hill and setting up.

Over head, ships screamed through the air. Damaged ships streaked past, trailing smoke in their wakes, left like a fingerprint on a door. Inevitable. He was mandalorian, but still he felt out of place in the war. This was where his oldest brother excelled, not him. Another ship cut by, drawing the togorian's eyes. It wouldn't do well to get distracted.

He brought his focus back to his squad with some difficulty. They had arranged themselves in a basic formation, talking and joking with each other as they kept watch and awaited orders. One of them, a bulky twi’lek with blue and green armor, said something to Venku, drawing him into the easy banter and distracting his mind from the sheer size of the battle.

 

[Kreslin Westwind]

Kreslin stood silently among the other warriors from the Mandalorian Union, the cloak over the right side of his body flapping wildly in the wind as he placed one foot on the rock face first squad had climbed, his eyes taking in the details of the war raging below. He had come to Onderon along with a few handpicked warriors from the Mandalorian Union, forming an ad-hock squad of mobile infantry. The others with him stood around the hilltop, mingling occasionally with the mortar platoon they were supporting, though keeping their eyes and ears open for any new orders or sudden attacks.

He approached Torrack Torrackstur now, briefly taking the time to nod to Venku Bralor as he led his own squad. Kreslin could not quite see Forjund Australis from where he stood, but he was confident the warrior would be securing their forces flank. Folding his arms across his chest, Kreslin watched as a flight of starfighters flew overhead, angling towards the battle in the distance. "Rally Master, you have secured for us an advantageous position. However, I would recommend our forces to begin digging into this hill immediately. Create foxholes and makeshift bunkers where we can, and put as much dirt between our forces and any Sith-Imperial scum that might take a shot at us."

As he was finished speaking, he glanced towards the city his mind working over a few details. "I will lead my squad into the city and try to help with the evacuation efforts. Maybe see if I can find a few trophies to take..." The last words came out as almost a snarl, his left hand tightening briefly on his right arm.

Tags: Anyone wanting to fight or talk in the city.

 

[Mi'la Undari]

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

Well, as she had predicted, the Sith struck first. Thankfully it wasn't anything insane, just two quick attacks aimed at her legs. Mi'la swung her blades downward in an arc, intercepting the first two strikes as she was curious as the the strength of this new adversary. He was certainly strong, as while her cybernetics could hold up for the time being, her non mechanical arm wasn't having such like. Time to change things up.

Keeping the blades locked, Mi'la snapped her leg forward, aiming the hardest kick she could must right into the center of the Sith's chest, hoping to knock him off balance and take advantage of the opening she had made. If it worked, she would begin to strike at him with her sabers, relentlessly attacking until he had given ground. Her Makshi style would demand she keep her opponents balance off center, and hoping to cut into his defense as she struck; though, this was all in concept, she had to actually hit him for it to work.

If this of course didn't work, then the Twi'lek would jump back, aiming to try and utilize her agility to get a better advantage in this battle. Either way, she wasn't liking how this was all unfolding. Still, if she got out of this alive it'd be something to write home about.

 

[Jaster Awaud]

- Jaster and his men were on a rescue mission when they received the call to arms in the assistance of the Onderanian people. The transmissions were garbled and they only received limited information. It was enough though, Jaster sent a different transmission of his own to his Clan and directed the refugees to meet with his Nomad fleet in a secure location. Clan Awaud was a secretive family and trusted no one, Jaster trusted Yasha and Kay and it got him killed. In this new life he would not make those same mistakes again.

- Twenty men. Twenty of his most skilled Mandalorian Supercommandos sat shoulder to shoulder in their red and silver armor. They sat in the transport of a Kom'rk Transport-Fighter, one that his family had taken when they fled Mandalore during the siege. Not a word was spoken to one another and the low red lighting within the cabin showed they were to get in the mindset now. Clan Awaud was of unknown number, as all of his family wore similar armor and were never seen in large numbers. It was how he designed it, and only he wore the symbol of Clan Awaud. It made his family ghost among a sea of wondering shadows. He had fought with them on many battle fields and under many banners. Now they were to serve themselves, and serve their ideals of what Mandalorians really were, Soldiers.

- Jaster felt the jolt of the small transport exiting Hyperspace, then the twist and turns the small ship did to avoid the battle happening in space. That was none of their concern for now. For now they were to get to the ground and help those that needed it. The transport rattled each twist and turn and then there was the pressure of them entering the planets atmosphere. If they had arrived with a larger complement of ships, slipping by the battle would have been much harder. But there was a battle happening in space, and allowing one ship past was not worth the extra effort it would seem.

- "Alor, we entered the upper atmosphere, One minute to a Three Second Jump." The voice of the pilot entered Jasters Helmet.

- "Understood." He nodded and looked to the others, looking at them each in their visors and used hand signals to relay the information. They had communications, they were not heavily encrypted so he took the precaution to keep their plans a secrete. The other nodded along once he was finished. The red light within the compartment turned green and the hydraulics within the transport opened the doors below them and lowed them to the outside winds. Once exposed to the outside, he could see the battle below him and they all let go of the ship. They were now free falling to the ground at increasingly fast speeds but none of them panicked. They all fell in formation and Jaster lead them to what seemed like a hill or mountain. They were able to get some transmissions from his fellow Mandalorian Union allies and set up a rally point.

- Once they reached 200 meters from the ground, they all pressed a button on their belts and shot forward what seemed like grenades. Then they were 100 meters from the ground and Jaster brought himself horizontal to the ground and used his Force powers to slow the other twenty member Commando group. Not enough to allow them to fall without harm, but that was not the point. Within second, the ground filled with twenty-one green globs of smoke. They had launched HDG Packets ahead of them, and they were slowed enough to allow themselves a clean insertion.

- Once on the ground, they took up positions to secure Jaster as several of his squad brought out small cases and opened them. They released Relay Droids that would allow them communications now. The Alor of Clan Awaud connected to them and sent a message out to Kreslin Westwind . "Vod Kreslin, Al'Ori'Ramikade Jaster of Clan Awaud and Twenty of my Supercommandos dropped due south of Rally Point, we saw some erratic fighting in the Forest outside the city but are holding and awaiting orders."

- Jaster looked to his men and pulled out his Beta Blaster side arm and awaited to hear from the other Mandalorian. He had yet to learn all of their ranks within the Union, but he kept his head on a swivel and allowed his men to secure the drop zone.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

There were ideas in his head, but it didn’t matter. What he needed to do was to approach his foe, the one where sometimes he felt they were playing a large game of Derjarik, other times where he felt a battle was merely a game of sabacc, but he knew they were more than that. These games were for the lives of the galaxy, the life of the very Force. He was not about to take bets on what fights he was going to win, or walk into them thinking they were anything against life or becoming one with the Force. He knew that Jedi could accomplish great things once they have joined the Force, he had seen the records, be they true or falisifed, from Skywalker. Yet he was not looking to join the ranks yet.

He had his family to protect, the galaxy to guard.

And armed with the Force, and his expanding understandings of it, he knew he had nothing to fear.

There was no fear, there was the Force. He was pushing this thought out into the gathered Jedi, and Jedi attached. He was not the type to battle meditate, but if he could boost even some of the Jedi, then he was doing his job, fulfilling his role. There were other great Jedi, but Coren had to fill the role of being a great Jedi for this battle, for better or worse.

The Jedi had there tasks, he had his. And in the Force, he was calling to Carnifex.

I shall face you. As if Coren ahd any choice, who was he going to send? He could feel the friendly Jedi around, him, Phalsi, Autunme, and the Silvers. Looking to the Mon Cal on his side, he nodded as the Master began to quicken his pace, heading for the darkest part of the world.

 

[Tarish Galland]

Tag: Amani Serys
Location: Abandoned Power Plant

He watched her fall forward but collect herself quickly. His thoughts approving of the growth in combat abilities as she chided him for lecturing in a fight. The javelin throw surprised him. He spoke regardless, as he glanced to the weapon passing while he sidestepped. His shoulder brushed the wall beside them in the control booth, the view below to relays and generators that were mostpy idle.

"Always a chance to learn wh-" His eyes snapped back to Amani as her force throw caught him and sent him to the floor. His weapon hissed as the blade shut off, and her attack bearing down on him, managing to get up to a knee as he focused his favored skill into his free hand.

Her blade came down as the hand shot up, thumb hooking below the edge with a resounding hiss-snap to stop the attack from hitting his shoulder as his whole body strained against the energy he began to absorb from the weapon.

The space glowed red as he tried to push her back and stand up, energy being pulled from the blade as quickly and dangerously as he could while the blade itself continued to vibrate in his palm.

It wasn't being physically touched, the consumption of energy pulling the blade between his hooked top fingers, palm, and thumb below in a dangerous suspension.

A false move could easily remove any of them as his body began to burn with an overabundance of energy even in the short span of time he had held the weapon. Enough absorbed that even he could feel the beginning of the fatal drawback of his power taking hold.

His hearts burned at the raw energy, beating faster and harder as nerves began to burn and singe. His body screamed with pain as he focused himself to his next task. In a matter of seconds, he had sprung the trap that would give her the in she needed.

His arm began to visibly smoke from under the sleeve as he tried to throw the blade aside, releasing the draw of power and trying to use the force to propel himself away. If that failed, the blade on his own saber would ignite, his grasp on the pike blade releasing after pulling her forward and himself up to try and strike at her.

Hairline burns had formed along his arm from the energy that had passed from hand to chest, continuing to burn as the raw energy sought to escape. Sought to free itself as he internalized it.

 

[Salamander]

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

His initial strike brought him close enough to see the glint of cybernetics. Her right arm was mechanical, as was one of her lekku. The scars of battle? Or something else?

The kick aimed at his chest pushed him back a few steps. Her followup was quick and harsh, relentless in its desire to throw him off balance. But he held his ground with equine grace, his hooves leaving sharp markings in the dirt.

When she pulled away, seeking to use her flexibility to her advantage, his attention was drawn to the cybernetics again. Twi'leks were so very proud of their headtails. Losing one was seen as a shameful thing. But the lekku that trailed from the right side of her head was a beautiful thing, metal links chained together, undulating like a snake. He had to admire the workmanship of it.

She drew near to hit him. He blocked it, so she danced out of his way again, preparing for another agile quick blow. "Purely out of curiosity, who made your cybernetics?" he asked before she could strike again. "Was it someone else, or did you make them? They are quite lovely."

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran Rarr

Location: Onderon, just south of Iziz, pushing into the city. Beltran moving to rear of formation to engage Lirka Ka .
Objective: Move troops into the city to bolster defense.
Allies: Inara Basai , K Kaine Australis , Torrack Torrackstur 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

• 93 Rangers
  • 1st Platoon - 32 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 - 26 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 - 19 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

The battle raged around the drop zone. Beltran's Rangers appeared to be holding their own, trading fire with the enemy forces that attacked them from the city. By now, it appeared that the enemy was predominantly Mandalorian. Beltran didn't know what that meant, but right now it didn't really matter. What mattered was that his company couldn't afford to sit still and trade shots with the enemy. They needed to close the distance, to get in and among them. The longer that they remained outside the city, the more likely that the enemy commanders would begin to call down fire from the ships in orbit.

Over the open channels, Beltran heard the familiar voice of K Kaine Australis as he issued his challenge to a being Beltran took from context to be the enemy commander. "Well," He said to himself. "At least the Australis are still with us." He had fought along side the General once before and knew his worth. He had also heard of the exploits of the man's clan, a group of warriors Beltran would be proud to share this battlefield with.

"Alright people," Beltran would call out over Paladin Company's comnet. "We're going to have to push into the city before the enemy gets wise and calls down hell on our heads. Third and forth platoons," He said, singling out his company's heaviest armed and armored troops. "You'll be leading the push. First and second platoons will provide covering fire and then fall in behind you by squads. Be ready to move on my order."

It was about at this point that Beltran heard the ursine squeak of Torrack Torrackstur over the open SJC channels. "This is rally master Torrack Australis, squeak squeak I am in command of a mortar platoon, squeak squeak located in the northern hill overlooking the capital city of this planet. Just give us fracking coordinates, squeak squeak and we will pound them harder then a bunch of whores on Nal Hutta! hoink hoink OYA! SQUEEEK SQUEEEEK".

"Perfect."

Beltran waited until he received confirmations from his platoon leaders before he sent out a com on the same channel as the Gamorrean Mandalorian. "Rally master," Beltran said over his comlink. "This is Captain Rarr of Paladin Company. We're getting ready to advance north into the city. If you could send some fire to the following coordinates," Which Beltran would read off in quick succession. "It would be greatly appreciated. That's where we're getting the most resistance. Oya!"

Turning to regard the young medic, Inara Basai , who knelt nearby Beltran briefly wondered if he'd really been right in bringing the young woman with him. Had he just led her into the jaws of death because he wanted a familiar face around? "Basai," Beltran called out verbally to her over the din of the battle. "When we move, you stick to me. I'll do what I can to keep you safe." It wasn't much of a guarantee, the way things were shaping up, but it was the best that he could do.

Waiting until he began to hear the first sounds of the Australis mortars in the distance, Beltran would then give the order: "Move!"

In a large wedge formation, the A.I.P.S clad third and forth platoons would advance on the enemy positions. They would use their built in energy shields to keep as much of the fire off of them as possible, while simultaneous pumping in a stunning amount of return fire on the enemy via their shoulder mounted blaster-cannons.

Beltran and the other more lightly armed Rangers would provide support, firing their assault projectile rifles overhead-peppering the enemy positions with as much fire as possible. Here and there, a Ranger would catch a stray shot from the enemy, but for the moment it seemed that the advance was proceeding in good order.

And then...

"BELTRAN RARR."

The unmistakable bellow of Lirka Ka , sounded to the rear of their advancing unit. The sheer fury of it's intensity rising easily above the din of the battle. "Feth me," Beltran breathed out loud. "Of course she's here."

"Uhhh Captain?" That was one of his platoon Sergeants, sounding both confused and concerned.

"Keep moving," Beltran responded curtly. "I'll handle this myself. Lieutenant Mrawr, you're in command."

"Yes, sir." Came the Lieutenant from his position leading second platoon.

All other considerations put aside, Beltran stood up and actually strolled out into the firefight as if he was just taking a nice evening walk. Blaster bolts and superheated thermite projectiles flew at supersonic speeds around the Lorrdian as he closed on the rear of their formation. There, just at the edge of the treeline, he spied the massive figure of Lirka Ka standing with another that he didn't recognize. His mind briefly flashed to the orders he'd just given Inara Basai to follow him. Hopefully she had realized that he hadn't intended for her to join him in the face of this enemy, but in the end it would be her choice how to enact his orders.

"Hello, Lirka." Beltran said as he came to stand in front of the towering being. "A pleasure to see you again."

Beltran then tossed his assault rifle to the ground, as if he was discarding a piece of used packaging. He then unslung his lightsaber pike from his back and activated it's dual golden blades. "Shall we dance once more?"

Spoiler: Theme music starts

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

MOOD




The Mistress of Malcontent has heard the cries of her sisters from far across the galaxy. She has witnessed the many tears caused by neglect, or resulting in sheer and utter hatred evolving into dastardly situations from the destitute, those who were not touched with the gift of ability to inflict just revenge. She offers her services in situations like these where women deserve better. While the Sith wage war, she comes to tally a different score.

Might someone set out upon such a personal vendetta as Pom's, have some deep rooted past she has buried, possibly even forgotten, which formed her this way? Yes; end of that story, because it is forgotten. But any can see that she enjoys very much watching the average man rage as he falls into a total collapse of rationality proclaiming his rejection as absolute truth, that the supreme being hasn't any chance of being a SHE at all! Woman is the epitome of life! Man worships his woman. He chooses to give her everything he labors for, while she cuddles with his children, eats his food, and chooses when to tell him she does not have a headache on any given night of her choice. All she has to do to satiate his animal instinct is agree to let him believe he is in charge. ... ... ...AND FINE! Honestly, there is a whole hell of a lot a man can do, to earn true respect and worship from his soulmate in return. But Pomsty sees the morbidity of relationships, and avenges those whom the spirit world have lifted up to her, because she likes to do it, and she loves to watch a woman or child while the lights come on inside their oppressed head, and they learn they have an inner darkness which gives them strength to overcome.

The Wanica Coven exists, and yet it does not, until it chooses to be any different. They flew seemingly above or below the ground, ever changing location like at end of a rainbow, -but truly its exact opposite as fate is twisted to offer doom instead of fortune. Would it be darkside rainbows actually exist, all people who see one would easily meet up to find their reward. In fact this thing would chase you!!

Already five men had felt the tug and shuffled forward, entranced. Three had refused admission of their guilt and therefore with one touch from the Nightsisters were cast into oblivion, in stasis, where they would await their future awakening and fate would be dealt them. One male whose finger was pricked, matched the needs of a ritual sacrifice necessary for the generation of a rare potion. Not a bad start.

The spirits returned with news on locating someone the Nightsisters would find most repulsive and deserving their attention, and so the Coven Apparated across the land straight before her victim.

The family was a small, poor and with what little they had, attempting to flee the mayhem caused by the Sith. Pom stepped out of her shadow and quickly touched her thumb to the forehead of man who had been marked for elimination, casting his mind into utter Mesmerization. The Nightsister did not speak one word to her captive. The woman, holding her toddler in her arms and another tightly gripping her sash at her side, halted immediately in her tracks. Pom looked the woman over and she said, "You know who I am," and the woman nodded, for she had seen Pom's face repeatedly in her dreams. Pom added, "Have no fear. He has no capacity to remember a thing we are saying at this moment. This is your moment."

Any mind to anyone else fell away into the background for this woman, while Pom granted her the courage to take advantage of the situation and take her revenge. Soon enough nobody else passed them by, and no more people ran down this particular street, Pom's aura pushed them from it. Pom reached into the man's pockets and withdrew his credits, handing them over to the woman. She pointed to the direction of transports, "You do the thing, and you go get off this planet…and serve the Empire cause unless you do that, this here is gonna be the deal. And your Emperor is awesome."

Pom reached into her satchel, an enchanted bag that is empty until she has a need to reach into it, then her need and supply are answered. She conjured a potion. Its contents thick, and volatile. The Nightsisters answer to a Thermal Detonator.

She delicately held it in the palm of the woman who began to tear, the thought of freedom finally at hand. "Do not shake it," the witch instructed in a stern manner. "Just let him walk on ahead of you, and when he realizes you are not behind him and begins to turn around to tell you what to do, you toss it in his direction. You remember the look on his face." The woman nodded, Pom could sense her gratitude.

Pom released the man from her spell and immediately walked off slipping back into the shadows, away from the scene. The glory belongs solely to another. Behind her, she heard the man cry out momentarily just before her potion exploded. A wave of satisfaction washed over her.

Justice!​