Campaign Retribution | Jedi vs. New Sith | SGHW

[Dimitri Voltura]

TAG: Darth Ptolemis | Zaka

FIELDS OF BONE​

"If you did, you wouldn't be here now. Wouldn't fight alongside Marauders and wouldn't dig up weapons capable of killing millions of children at once."

If only he knew.

If only it had been so clear cut as being on the Marauders' side. Or even on Solipsis'. He head been more than lucid when he had joined arms with Halketh. That didn't mean he was blind to the brutality of the rest of the Order or the Botherhood as a whole. The madman that was Caelitus still held a modicum of his loyalty - his kinship. The rest didn't. He did what needed to be done up to a point.

This weapon that was being unearthed was the point.

He had lived long enough to have seen the destruction of numerous superweapons had wrought on worlds. Malachor had only one of them. But he was not about to play his hand before its time. Not to only prove an arrogant boy wrong.

When his apprentice attempted to surprise the Jedi with a Rodian girl, everything happened as if in slow motion for the predator. As the Blackfang ducked, the Dragon lifted his free hand to catch the girl with the Force. He put her down in to the side in the same movement a split second before his blade swept down to intercept the violet blade aimed at his knees and flinging the shot wide.
"On your feet!" the Sith hissed. "You want to be a man, then face me as one." His crimson gaze remained on the Jedi as he stepped back, sanguine blade and the Force at the ready.

Mentally, he struck at Darth Ptolemis .
<Don't ever misuse a live slave like that again or I will fling you across this cavern myself.> he growled. The Mawites abusing the slaves was an expected thing. His apprentice doing it, even after all this time under his tutelage, was a different matter. Orlov was often the son he never had. But the anger......the rage - it had to go sooner rather than later. If the Dragon could best it, so can his apprentice.

He was in a mood. One he hadn't been in for quite some time.

Unfortunately, this Jedi as well as his own apprentice chose this day to cross his path.

 

[Zachariel Steelblood]

Tags: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | Closed
Links: Weapons

​

Eina was different in her thoughts, though in the end it mattered little. To one such as Zachariel, the thoughts of others regarding him mattered little. All that mattered was the spilling of blood, and the taking of skulls and souls. Anything else was an added bonus, though completing the plans he had set in motion was always a boon. Still, the image he garnered certainly aided in those goals. Monster, demon, or some other horrifying creature, Zachariel had been compared to them all, and it didn't matter to him. His goals would be achieved, regardless of what others thought of him.

And so, he continued on with his battle, pushing the Jedi around and not giving the man a chance to flee. Even as Eina called out to him, Zachariel simply ignored her, smirking at her cry. Holding him high, Zachariel watches Eina, seeing the tears and laughing at her pain. She was a little Ingrid, but also so very different. This proved it all over again, and it simply made him smirk, highlighting those differences all the more. For all the years she had lived, she was still naive.

At Eina's plea, Zachariel's head tilted back, roaring with laughter. Even as the Jedi mewled in pain, he simply continued to laugh, finally focusing once more on the Jedi and Eina. She was a child, naive and ill suited to the ravages of war with the Maw. No matter what happened, she also would never understand. Yes, she saw the Jedi's soul, saw he was uncorrupted and "pure." But that was never what Zachariel had said. Eina had said the man was innocent, defenseless. Killing another stripped the innocent off a being, controlling the Force mean one was never defenseless. This Jedi may be pure in the Force, but he was hardly innocent, and he certainly had blood on his hands.

Once Eina was finished speaking, Zachariel was quick to retort.
"Oh my dear, you are still wrong. He may not be evil, but he has blood on his hands, has taken life. An innocent has no blood on their hands, no lives that watch them in the dark."

Smirking at her, he breaks the man and proceeds to begin and devour his soul. And she tries to stop him, somehow predictable, and yet Zachariel had thought she would be too surprised for it. This prompts his soul to freeze, the first vestiges already within Zachariel's maw. Grinning at the challenge, Zachariel observes the wounds of the Jedi begin to heal, watches the scars close. Then it slowly inched forward, towards Eina. Chuckling, Zachariel finally responds to her.
"Their souls belong to me."

Physically reaching forward, he grasps onto the soul of the Jedi, prompting a shriek. Then, with a great pull, he tears off that chunk of the soul. Devouring it swiftly, Zachariel reaches forward to grasp more, dragging the man to him in the Force and physically. Eina fought him off, the Jedi struggled all the way, and it didn't change the outcome. With one final, great tear, Zachariel pulls the soul fully into his maw, devouring. Hand dropping to the side and shuddering from the pleasure, he quietly pants from the effort.

Grinning at Eina, he chuckles, power flaring with the soul devoured. It's not much, but it's still noticeable, especially as Zachariel's lenses are still glowing with power.
"Failure."

Eyes not leaving Eina, Zachariel begins to back away, senses expanding in search of more prey, his intentions become clear. He doesn't want to fight Eina, that would be a futile struggle that would end with neither side truly winning. But cutting down others before her, devouring their souls, that would break her. And Zachariel intends to break her, mind, body, and soul.

 

[Dhalinar Greystar]

Looking for: Blade Ice

Good. The man was was eager, he could work with eager. Dhalinar's blade again flowed into the strikes and he nearly fell for the feint too, if not for the grace of the Force and flow of dark energy he could feel moving through his blade. Vapaad was a dance on a very thin line. Many thought you met darkness WITH darkness, fight fire with fire, but really you made yourself a conduit for your enemy's darkness. That kind of energy traveling through your blade could make it heavy if your own thoughts, actions, and resolve weren't strong enough to counterbalance the weight of that responsibility. For a moment he had a reprieve and in that moment he realized he would probably needed his shoto-

​

Fire. All around him, fire. The split second he had taken to reach for his shoto had nearly cost him his life. Even though the barrier protected him the heat was intense, but he could feel the danger prickling his skin. His white short blade activated with a snap-hiss and despite being blinded by the inferno around his head cracked the attack aside and then jumped back, swiping his hand through the air and dissipating the flames. He coughed and waved his hand about as if dispelling smoke. The white of his robes was blackened from the heat burning the fine fibers but otherwise, he was fine.

"Close one," he muttered. "But not close enough." He winked and gave his best Corellian smirk.

 

[Spindle]

ENEMIES: Strike Team Kenobi | Dagon Kaze | Valery Noble
ALLIES: BotM
ENGAGING: Judah Lesan | Katherine “Kitti” Fiorencia

Her furrowed gaze deepened into a glare, lips pulling taut in disdain as she could feel the light channel into its living conduit. The light dampened her control over the shadows she would have drawn forth like ink from its well. The structure of the web she would spin weakened, not gone entirely, but the strings wouldn't carry the same weight she'd have liked.

She wasn't left defenseless, of course, though the light made things complicated, tedious. And so her attentions turned momentarily toward the blade in her hand. Spindle's skill with the blade didn't progress far beyond basic movesets twisted in her own morbid fashion. The lightsaber was too rigid for her liking, too bulky to function as a needle in a canvas of flesh. Crossing blades with one who actually devoted time to the form's mastery only furthered her belief that, assuming she walked away from the mines alive, a different weapon would suit her far better.

"That would depend on who you're calling 'us' and 'th-'"

Her response was cut short by the scream erupting from the other woman, just as her offensive quickly turned to retreat, slinking back to her beloved shadows as the other moved in such a chaotic fashion.

Again, the temptation to use rather than work with the girl spoke up from the corner of Spindle's mind. It'd be a simple feat, a little nudge in the force, to shift the girl's chaos off course. Frankly an ideal distraction with the potential of dealing with two nuisances with one push. At the same time, however, such a notion came with larger risks. Namely, being left alone with the Jedi if he arose from such shenaniganry unscathed.

No, this called for a different approach. While the shadows cast by their surroundings would be little assistance, Spindle shifted her focus inward. With her stained fingertips came a touch of necrosis, meant to corrode the sensations, if not the flesh itself, of what limbs her fingers came in contact with. With eyes narrowing in concentration, Spindle waited a moment longer, watching the patterns of her temporary allies' outbursts, before slinking back into the fray, blade in one hand, fingers of inky blackness waiting for an opportunity in the other.

 

[Vesta]

Lilith​

"You're not a weapon, Vesta."​

Her jaw clenched, teeth ground against each other, and ignored the sharp prick of pain that came with the tip of one of her teeth nicking the back of her lip at the front of her mouth. 'No,' She thought, her knuckles turning white as the grip on her lightsaber tightened, agreeing with him on a mere technicality. "It doesn't matter what I am, or what I am not." Vesta retorted. She took a step towards him, taking special exception to his condescending pity, and whatever pretense she had of leaving the man to do whatever it was that he pleased was dropped faster than her ties to a dead order. "It doesn't matter what you do here, what you accomplish, no matter what you do I will succeed." Vesta said as she twirled her lightsaber with the flick of her wrist, catching it to hold it in a reverse grip - one that was generally disadvantageous against any of the more established methods of saber combat - and took another step in his direction. "You fight against monsters, Kahlil Noble , you need to treat us as we are - what we choose to be." She continued, the temperature dropping further, color draining from the soil beneath their feet.

"Your heart, your needless compassion, will be your undoing."

She had closed the gap between them faster than color could reach her face -- no, it had instead vanished from her and the space around her, drained away like ink from a page under water. The lightsaber in her clenched fist arced upwards and across as she swung, uncurling her fingers midway. Telekinetic force coerced the blade to continue through its momentum as the hand opposite of the one that released the lightsaber reached for it and thrust it forwards towards her cousin. While she was in motion, as the heat of battle found itself cast over the estranged relatives, the area in which the gradual drop in temperature and loss of vibrancy spread as only a cancer could. At its heart was the Sith lord whose passive hunger steadily fed on the world around them and, more importantly, the force. She was unlike the man's father, unlike even Voracitos of old.

A wound in the force itself.

'I am a monster.'

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

CRAWLING CHAOS
Preventing Jedi from getting to the superweapon, within the bowels of Asog.

Equipment in bio.

TAG: Dimitri Voltura Zaka | Open!

Sith. A defiler of life, feeling his way through the dark. Burning slowly with a hunger for more, unyielding on his blasphemous pilgrimage. That is what he was. That is what he should be. No moral deliberation preceded the apprentice's act of tossing a living being at the problem that was the violet Jedi in front of him. He did not hesitate. He showed no mercy.

The unbelievably nimble Jedi evaded the malnourished, screaming, Force-thrown slave in the last possible second. Once again impressing the Fondorian phantom, the young padawan attempted to use the abrupt shift in tempo to his advantage, and bolstered by momentum, he slashed at Dimitri's kneecaps; thankfully, his master was no mere Sith Lord. He was the Dragon of old, the primordial predator. Barely a few quick steps and the apprentice would have caught up with them, but then the overbearing, bone-chilling aura of his master suddenly stopped him in his tracks.

<Don't ever misuse a live slave like that again or I will fling you across this cavern myself.> he growled. The Mawites abusing the slaves was an expected thing. His apprentice doing it, even after all this time under his tutelage, was a different matter. Orlov was often the son he never had. But the anger......the rage - it had to go sooner rather than later. If the Dragon could best it, so can his apprentice.

A baffling amount of emotions flashed through the apprentice's entire being in an instant. For seven long years he had followed his every word, every bit of wisdom his master had imparted; became what he molded him to be. A remarkable warrior, a sophisticated thinker, a terrifying presence. A worthy apprentice, or so he hoped. Never once did the Fondorian apprentice disobey his master, even going so far as to rescue him from captivity, instead of seizing the opportunity to leave him behind. Yet just like how the Dragon's current individuality would seem almost like a stranger to his much younger self, so could others change as well. The gradual transformation that culminated in Orlov Ansonnir becoming the scholar of profane truths, Lord Ptolemis, brought with it profound shifts in philosophy. Shifts that appeared to blow open a growing fracture between the two – right here, right now. For Ptolemis, no sums were exorbitant enough and no sacrifices big enough to gain even a slightly better understanding of the Sith of old; teachings left behind, wisdom, deliberately forgotten, truths forsaken in the bottomless pit of the past. For the last few years, the Banite view resonated with him the most, its words like splinters in his mind's eye, not allowing him any rest.

But certain aspects of the Banite view collided with his master's teachings. Exhibiting any shred of concern for the weak was becoming more and more of an alien concept for the apprentice's Dark Side-obsessed brain, and his master's metallic mental grip felt more and more like an inhibiting envelope around the dark renaissance of Ptolemis' personality. His every molecule screamed for blood and vengeance; his master's words shook him to the core. Still, a fool he wasn't.

Ptolemis elevated his gaze from his feet and looked into the eyes of his master, his mask resonating to the timbre of his verbal reply.

I. am. not. you.​

Emphasizing every word with barely contained anger, a fragile tension flooding the immediate vicinity. Not wasting any more time, Ptolemis exploded into action by sliding in closer to the twin-sabered warrior, directing a concentrated push at his opponent's feet to hopefully scatter pebbles and dirt at the man's face, and finally attempting a straightforward thrust at the Fang's abdomen with his crimson lightsaber.

A growing shadow of concern announced its presence for the first time. There shall be a time for a climactic battle of the wills between the Dragon and the Scholar; but not when the Jedi can exploit this. They need to be stopped.

At all costs.​

 

[Eina L'lerim-Vandiir]

Lady Eina L'lerim-Vandiir
The First and the Light of Ashla
Heiress and Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic Mascot and Representative of the Ashlan Crusade
Eternal Empire's Ambassador to the Ashlan Crusade; Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary and the Fjölkyngi Smiđr Guild​

Location: Mining facility, Asog
Objective I.: To perform a diversionary attack
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (swords) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m || Current appearance
Writing With: Zachariel Steelblood | Closed

[ Valhalla Calling ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

As Zachariel laughed at her pleading and tears, Eina's tears became a little brighter, it wasn't exactly golden, though it reflected the colour of the soul, it was much more bluish. It had no effect, it just looked like that. Eina wasn't bothered to show her emotions or be seen by others. She inherited the part of Ingrid that the Empress always kept hiding from others that she never let others see. The emotional part. And until, the Empress was able to control and suppress this completely…

Meanwhile, Eina; well, the Valkyrja would have been able to do it too, but she didn't want to. She did not consider it a weakness when others saw her emotions. Sure, Eina saw in her soul that the crusader had already killed others, but in a war, no one's hands will be bloodless. But they could remain just as pure and good. Eina also killed thousands in Netherworld, demons. And yet, the Ashlan Crusade considers her the purest creature they have ever met. There was no evil in her either, she was innocent and pure, yet she killed countless times.

"With this view, no one in the galaxy is innocent. He kills Sith who wanted to hurt others. For the protection of others, for self-defence, not just for fun, or because he could." she said; and that was forgivable.

Eina touched the soul, the moment Zach did. As the man began to tear apart the crusader's soul and devour it, Eina pulled back her fist-clenched hand, crying, and pressed it to her chest. She lowered her head for a moment, then looked up still crying. She also heard the screams of the soul and watched the man devour. Her tears still trickled down her face as she stood helplessly and watched the man. She hasn't moved, not yet. Apparently, she was like she was unable to move, she was so shocked by the events that Zach was doing.

However, when she spoke, her voice was firm, not trembling; though she was a little hoarse from crying. But she had definitely not broken yet, Zach had not yet achieved that; however, what the man wanted to do very upset the girl and caused her pain. Already the fact and the thought that the man would do that.

"Only you believe that. My tears are about what you would be able to do. Did you really think I would let you hurt any soul without a fight? You seem to know nothing about me or my people. If necessary, I would die for any soul, but I wouldn't let anyone do with them what you wanted!" she said.

She lifted her hand a little from the front of her chest and took the grip looser. A golden glow filtered out of her fingers. The soul, at least what remained from it.

"For me, from the first moment of my existence, it is my task and duty to protect them, that is why me and my people exist!"

When she touched the soul, she hid the untouched part of the soul, like Ingrid, she had proficiency with the mind, the soul. It wasn’t too hard to create an illusion that seemed like a soul. Until then, she hid the soul, Zachariel not paying attention to the girl's hands, only her gaze or just the soul. She had the opportunity. And now she kept it tightly with her and guarded him until she'll open a rift and she'll send it to Ashla.

"Which of us is naive now, gen’daii?" she asked. "And it is not only the souls of the dead that belong to me, if I will, the living's as well!"

But true, she lost, she wasn't able to save the entire soul, and it was now doomed, just like her fahter. A shattered, torn soul, who'll never be able to rest.

This is why it was dangerous when a Valkyrja fell over to the Dark Side, as it could have very serious consequences, but fortunately it was rare. She saw Zachariel already looking for new victims. Eina stepped closer to him, still keeping the crusader's soul safe, reaching out to Zach with the other hand. Her arm became immaterial and she tried to reach into the man's chest, if she succeeded, she would seize the man's soul through the Force so that the man could feel it all. If she succeeds, she looks up at the man's helmet where his eyes were.

"Unlike you, however, I have the power to smash your soul or tear it out of place.!" it was not a threat, just a simple finding of fact.

 

[Cadere]

ASOG, MINING FACILITY
OBJECTIVE 1
Del | Yula Perl | Hilal Vizsla​

Cadere was silently surprised at Del's obedience. He had spent a long time dealing with difficult or rebellious characters, consistently having to demonstrate his superiority over those under him. Aside from the one time during their first meeting, Del had continued to prove as a non-difficult character - despite her dislike for him. She was, naturally, displeased at his orders though but it was better than the alternative.

Ignoring the girl's comments, he stepped toward Yula, every so slightly shortening the gap between them. Watching as the Zeltron defended herself against his attack, Cadere continued heading toward her. Twirling his own lightsaber in response to hers, Cadere's quips continued to fall on deaf ears. Breaking into a sprint, Cadere yanked a steel bar, tearing it off a nearby scaffolding and telekinetically throwing it in her direction.

Knowing she'd evade or counter it, the Kiffar picked up the pace in an attempt to get to her quicker and overwhelm her. Enacting his first attack, the fallen Knight thrust his blade forward with the intent to wound. Whether it was effective or not, Cadere pulled the blade back and lifted it above his head, slashing diagonally in a downward motion.

The voice of another caught his attention, forcing the Dark Jedi to slide backward to avoid a counter from Yula while he was temporarily distracted. Head whipping in the direction of the feminine voice, confusion married the Kiffar's expression beneath the mask. Another opponent had entered the skirmish. Demanding them to drop their lightsabers, he wondered if she was addressing all of them or himself - considering he knew she wasn't on his and Del's side.

 

[Del]

New Horizons​

Location: Morellia
Notable Equipment: N/A
Tags: Cadere Yula Perl Hilal Vizsla

---​

Maybe the Zeltron wasn't so bad after all. A wide smirk grew on Delphine's lips as the woman asked who's pride they were trying to save. "His. Definitely his." she said, happy to have found someone who was as happy to be pick on him as her. Although, it seemed like the Zeltron was far more capable of defending herself against the aftermath.

As the fight continued with the same fury and passion, the athlete moved back, distancing herself from the immediate danger while sheathing her vibroblade. She held on to the lightsabre pommel and muttered "Next time, you will work" as she remembered how its lack of a crystal had cost them a premature end to the fight.

Then, a girl clad in a large armour suit appeared. Delphine looked to her with confusion spreading across her features. This was certainly no Jedi and the armour she wore - it was like nothing she had ever seen before. A few moments passed as the Sith stood in silence, trying to compute what was happening. Hilal Vizsla didn't look like a murderer - but then so did few others. What earned the girl a little bit of extra trust was her young age. The Jedi sure liked to paint Sith in a bad light, but could this one have escaped their doctrine of evil?

Delphine offered a friendly smile and raised the sabre sidewards to show that it wasn't an attack "It doesn't even work" she said, clearly a bit disappointed. To prove her point, she clicked the ignition button a few times. Once more, it was only sparks that came through its maw. "It's not like it can hurt anyone. Mind if I keep it?" she asked before turning to point to Cadere and the Jedi girl "They're the ones fighting here. Whatever you came here to do - they are probably more interesting."

 

[Haro Harend]

"Asog," she remarked without a second thought, "something, something darkside, and Sith. I didn't really catch the entire briefing Dagon Kaze gave. Just that his name was Dagon and he sure did like to talk." Xarielle carefully got back to her feet and knocked the blaster with her hand.

Haro hummed thoughtfully. "Asog, hmm? Never heard of it." He shrugged. "But, the galaxy's a big place, with a lot of rocks to hide under." He caught what else Xarielle said. 'Kaze? I'm not sure I've heard of the Jedi. Maybe he's one of the new crop, out of the Tython praxeum.'

The man who introduced himself as Haro Harond, seemingly gave her a lightsaber. She could feel it - the darkside, how it radiated around the lightsaber it was poisonous. She supposed it was too late to run back and grab her lightsaber crystal to stick into the chamber, "um thanks." She managed as she examined the hilt. Xarielle excepted the lightsaber and attached it to her belt with a clip that held onto the handle. "Besides, a trusty blaster works so long as you actually, use it."

Haro chuckled, patting his carbine. "Oh, she'll work like a charm in a tough spot."

Steeling herself, she exhaled, "right I uh, I got here because Master Noble was heading here and ..."
That left Xarielle with the question of just where Valery Noble was in this mess. Licking her up lips she exhaled again this time she looked at Haro and then the area around them. "Finding Noble is what I need to do," and now was the time to make use of the Force. Xarielle focused for a moment pushing out her own thoughts and clearing her mind. Orienting herself in the proper direction she gestured, "that way."

Haro slowly nodded. 'Another Jedi I don't know. By the Emperor's black bones, what's going on? There aren't that many of us.' Aloud he stated, "Lead the way, let's get to your Master. Also, do you have a comms? I need to reach the Grandmaster, it's urgent..."

Xarielle Pavanos Valery Noble

 

[Blade Ice]

Death to Strike Team Kenobi!​

Post: 5
Objective: Click Click Boom
Location: Outside the Mining Facility
Equipment: Orange Lightsaber (Fire) | Blue Lightsaber (ICE) | x8 throwing daggers | Poison Dagger | x6 thermal detonators | x8 Smoke Grenades | Brown MidNight Duster with Hood
Allies: The Brotherhood of Maw
Enemies: Valery Noble | Zaka | Yula Perl | Iris Arani | Silas Westgard | Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | Haro Harend | Dhalinar Greystar | Kahlil Noble | Eslo Anderson | Jorah zos Darnus | Jax Thio | Bernard of Arca | Leon Gallo | Romi Jade | Cotan Sar'andor | Zark San Tekka | Kai Bamarri | Okkeus Dainlei | Inosuke Ashina | Tieuvelli Renlas | Keiran Varn | Greer Caimbeulaich | Amanda | Madison Starr | Judah Lesan | Xarielle Pavanos
Special Tags: Dhalinar Greystar

---

As his combatant once again managed to deflect his flurry and was only temporary blinded, Blade once again found himself distanced from his opponent. His sulfuric orange eyes burned even brighter as he stared down the corellian Jedi. He had paid much attention to the surrounding but in that moment the sounds of battle were seeming to calm or distance themselves from there area. The corellian smirked and mock him for not being close enough.


"There is more then one way to deal with a wamp rat." As he spoke, he disengaged his orange saber in his left hand. Then he moved quickly towards his opponent as he did his left hand slipped his saber on his belt and in the same motion, he pulled a pulled a round ball from his coat. As he got with in striking distance of the Corellian jedi Blade lifted his blue saber in his right hand and it looked like he was going to come he was going to come in for a leaping strike that would come down on the jedi's left shoulder. Yet at the last second where the leap should have occurred Blade shift his weight and direction turning nearly ninety degrees running off to the left of the man he was facing putting his back. As eh did this he dropped the round object from his hand at the Jedi's feet. The red light on it blinked counting down the thermal detonator had been armed for a five second delay.


Adrenaline pumped through Blade's veins as he ran as fast as he could to outrun the blast. For even Blade with his head start it would be hard to outrun the whole blast he just had to shield his back and hope he didn't get propelled into a rock face or worse. The Jedi had been getting a conventional fight up to that point now Blade was escalating the situation.

 

[Iris Arani]

Sophie.

Iris let out a relieved sigh as it wasn't Thalia Senn who came over but the large Sithspawn. Irony at it's best, though that fact was lost on Iris. She stood, using the wolf as a crutch to keep from just falling over until the dizziness stopped. No, wait. Kai Bamarri . Her gaze focused in on the two fighting, and she clenched a fist. She wasn't Kai, she couldn't just regrow limbs to fight against a lightsaber.

The only thing she had on her was a couple more paint cans.

Oh, right. Paint. She reached out, smiling as she pulled on the colors of Sophie's mind. Melding. Then hopped onto the wolf's back to charge back into the fight. Sort of. She more had Sophie get close enough to help her jump over the two fighting.

<Close your eyes!>

Midair she chucked one of the spray paint containers for Thalia's still green saber midstrike. Hoping to use the sudden pop of aptly green paint to knock the saber from her grasp.

 

[Zaka]

RETRIBUTION
BLACKFANG - THE (NEW) JEDI vol. II
Issue #6 - Retribution: Jedi Strike Back
Objective 2: Strike Team Skywalker
Dimitri Voltura Darth Ptolemis

There was a flash of light, violet on scarlet, as the plasma beams clashed for the first time with one another. In the wake of it, the Sith confirmed Zaka's suspicions. So far gone there was no purpose in entertaining the eternal debate of good and evil, of Jedi and Sith, of craven or honourable. The Sith - at least this one - understood it. What their actions meant for the galaxy.

They just didn't care.

And all attempts to victimize themselves was just a predator feigning weakness to lure in the unsuspecting.

His blade came back around as he rose to his feet, dust particulate and pebbles flew up with him. Swirling in the air as they flew into his eyes.

Instinctively, his hand raised to wipe. And Zaka backpedaled a couple steps, his saber raising as the Shrouded Sith plunged at the centre of his being. He'd trained without his eyes in the past. His nose, his ears, sharpened. Even before he learned to use the Force to enhance his Senses. He could hear the steps the Sith took to close the distance, he'd always been keeping track of him. It was the nature of fighting outnumbered.

His arms dropped down, carrying with it a purple waterfall that crashed into the crimson blade that stabbed towards him. A slight pivot backwards changed its target from his midsection to go burning past his ribs. Zaka felt the burn, and nothing else. And somewhere in the back of his mind he new the bodysuit would irritate the wound. But his saber was already coming down. Instead of being aimed for a blind cleave to chop the Sith in twain, he brought the blade down with a force meant to overwhelm the Scholar. To use his own blade to knock him off balance as it was forcibly angled to the ground.

He could sense the two Sith. In close proximity, he could differentiate between both of their presences. From his saber, a hand raised. A heavy metal forearm swinging in an effort to catch the Scholar in the side of his head to knock him out of the way. Armoured legs worked, quickly shuffling to bring him away from the second Sith.

"Why spare the girl, just to kill countless later?"

 

[Xarielle Pavanos]

​

The Jedi Haro fellow seemed a bit out of it what with the 'Emperor's Black Bones' line although she wasn't sure she wanted anything to do with any Emperor or their bones, black or not. Xarielle padded herself down as she checked to see if she did, and happened to find one on the inside of her blaster vest. She withdrew it from the liner pocket and handed it to him. "Here, should work, I think..." The Balmorran then wondered if Master Noble was her Jedi Master. Did people get to choose which person trained them or was it all by happenstance? "My Master is... I think out of the facility so we just need to meet up with her."

Xarielle didn't feel like arguing nor did she feel like explaining to Haro just all the events that led her Master Noble. As she moved through the corridors of the facility following both the signs and the Force. "Uh, just out of curiosity. Master Haro, was it? Um, who- who's Emperor and who's black bones? I mean are they really black and also why are they black?" The tone of her voice paired with her question as she navigated her way through the facility feeling out with the Force for Master Noble.

There was a moment where she stopped and took a moment to reorient herself. Closing her eyes, Xarielle cleared her mind and could hear the soft voice of her grandfather. Perhaps it was just a voice in her head, which admittedly, scared her and made her wonder if this warranted a trip to the psych ward. When she opened her eyes, Xarielle felt more confident in the direction she was taking and soon enough she caught up with Valery Noble as she was exiting the facility. "Master Noble!" It wasn't hard to miss Kaiah Nihl slung over the Jedi's shoulder, Xarielle walked beside the Jedi Master and gestured with her thumb toward the slung over woman, "uh, you know on Balmorra we normally carry sacks of grain or potatoes like that, she gonna be ok?"

"Oh and uh, this is Master Haro." Xarielle introduced the other Master.

Haro Harend​

 

[Judah Lesan]

.

D I S T R A C T I O N

Judah could see his attempt to interrupt the connection the Sith had with the dark side was working. They were not fully without the use of their connection, but the disruption had been evident. It still did not change the fact this fight was two to one. Just because Judah was good did not mean he was immune to the danger of being outnumbered by two dark siders. For now, he had simply made his odds of surviving the battle slightly better.

The silver haired Sith lunged at Judah with a scream. Her contortions had been a trick designed to catch him off guard, and they may have had it not been for the announcement of her attack. She went for his side first, losing her balance and missing. The other woman ( Spindle ) disappeared into the shadows, the only thing giving away her location was the crimson hue of her lightsaber.

There was little time to line up an attack. He could hear the hum of the violet blade behind him. Judah turned on his heel, bringing his blade up in time to crash into the saber coming down upon him. Judah knocked the blade out of the way and sent a force push directly at the girl’s gut. It was form 6 on full display as the form itself combined saber combat with force attacks to create deadly combinations.

“Quit your hiding,” Judah said to the woman cloaked in shadow. “You would let me kill her simply to gain an advantage, or are you only capable of taunting and teasing?”​

ALLIES: Dagon Kaze | Valery Noble | NJO
ENEMIES: Brotherhood of the MAW | Spindle | Katherine “Kitti” Fiorencia

 

[Kai Bamarri]

Kai kept fighting, Iris’ blade in his hand crashing into Thalia’s with increasing violence. At least, until Sophie came barreling over, Iris astride her.

<Close your eyes!>

Kai didn’t bother. He relied more on the Force to “see” anyway, and covering his eyes would tip off Thalia as to what Iris intended. Instead, as paint burst in the air around them, he thrust forward, stabbing at Thalia through the cloud of green.

Iris Arani Thalia Senn​

 

[Thalia Senn]

Tags: Kai Bamarri | Iris Arani

WHAT DO YOU SEE?
​

Tempest hadn't noticed, but her vision had long since gone red with rage. She only noticed as her blade sliced another can. The same trick, but Tempest was so intent on killing Iris and forcing this Sithspawn to submit that she hadn't been paying attention. The paint sprayed across her eyes casting the world in a green hue before the burning sensation became too much and she shrieked, snapping her eyes shut. She didn't know what was happening, her body moved on its own, but she jumped back, the darkness enveloping her. Strange. The dark wings of Darth Solipsis usually felt so comforting, so right. This was anything but. It did however force her to take stock of her situation.

Three on one. Her rage was getting the better of her. She breathed to calm the storm and readied herself again. Three on one? No, that beast was spawn of the dark. Though so was the other human-looking creature, but their mind was obviously much stronger than that of most others. Why not even the odds?

Lips curled into a snarl, eyes still shut, she was relying on the Force to guide her as she took a defensive stance, low and close to the ground. Reaching out with the Dark Side of the Force she touched the beast's mind. Immediately she felt it recoil, but she could sense the mind was weak - eager to serve its dark masters, the ones who brought it into this world. She could see its lineage. The vast forests of Mandalore, the mountainous snow-capped peaks of Effekt, the dark halls of ancient Sith ruins on Korriban. She'd never been to any of these places but the mind of the Sith Warbeast was connected intrinsically to all of these places. She had been watching Darth Kalyptos manipulate his thralls for weeks now. She had more or less an idea of what it took to take the mind of a Sithspawn with as weak a mind as this one.

It was time this one remembered more than the lands of its creative tissue. It was time for it to remember from whence it came.

<FEED>​

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"A true monster doesn't think they are."

That was the core of it all. His belief. Redemption could be achieved for any who chose that path, who gave up the darkness. Even as the Force bled around them. His eyes narrowed as Darth Mori took each step closer. He'd said it now. Angered her, when she was content with leaving. But to bleed the Force itself like she was? A cold sweat crept down the back of his neck. Was this what she meant by her being a monster?

Then she was there. In front of him. Kahlil's green blade snapped to life as he called it to his grasp to catch the slice. That never came. He blinked as the blade instead thrusted out, bypassing his blade entirely and going right for his torso.

"It's not compassion. Or, not just." The crackling energy of the red saber burned his coat, filling the air with the smell of singed cloth. He spoke calmly, his blade lowering, deactivating again.

"Everyone deserves the chance to stop. Just killing someone is never the answer." He pushed his hand forward, against the tip of the saber he'd caught. Crackling energy as he caught her blade with the Force alone. Then, color. Where she drained color, he brought it back. Pushing against her blade, against her will. All with the faintest smile on his face. Not one of contempt or pity.

Just hope.

"We didn't get to choose our family. And the scars they brought to use will always linger. But you can stop now. You don't need to be what they made you think you need to be."

 

[Iris Arani]

Iris felt it as Sophie did. Through the meld, she'd linked her mind with the Sithspawn's. Their mind. The dark colors reached out of the wolflike creature as they landed from their impromptu debilitating strike. Consuming. Rage and hate, born from Thalia Senn . Empowered by Darth Solipsis . The same that had blocked her before from reaching the light within Thalia.

But now, she was reaching out.

<FEED>​

<No.> Iris's voice rang clear through the bond Thalia was trying to force on Sophie's mind. Their mind. She slipped from the wolf, purple eyes just staring towards the fallen Padawan.

<I won't let you.> Then she sent it back. A dazzling array of colors. Emotions. Joy and hate, fear and bravery. Everything someone felt, everything she felt just standing here before the woman who'd thrown her from the train. If she couldn't reach through the darkness to pull out the light, then she'd batter it until the light could shine through on it's own.

 

[Kai Bamarri]

Thalia was in retreat from Kai’s blade, though now she had attempted to turn Sophie against them. At the vague command of <FEED>, the noble Warghest was all set to run over to Kai and beg for treats.

Perhaps luckily for the poor girl’s dignity, Iris canceled out the command before it could truly register. Kai perceived the energies Iris bombarded Thalia with. But could he do the same? He, a corrupted Sithspawn?

Corruption was a matter of the heart, a spiritual state. It was never about his physical body, the qualities of his cells or their DNA—nor was it entirely a matter of lost innocence, a fall from grace he would bitterly lament for the rest of his life. If Kai carried darkness within him, it was no more and no less than the darkness within the hearts of all sentient beings.

If that was true, he must have light in him too. He had to believe it now. Kai reached deep inside himself, searching for that inner light—and when he found it, he added it to Iris’ colors, trying to shine away the darkness which gripped Thalia.

Iris Arani Thalia Senn​