Campaign Retribution | Jedi vs. New Sith | SGHW

[Iris Arani]

Well that was a familiar response. Iris lost count of how many people called her crazy or looked at her funny for talking about Domxite. If anything, she felt worse for her friend than herself. It was one thing for people to think she was crazy. Another for people to think Domxite wasn't a person. Her grip tightened on the can behind her back as she shifted her stance. Full on fencer style, body turned, blue saber down but still pointed towards Thalia Senn . She wanted to help the masked woman, but she wasn't going to do it without defending herself.

"Iris." And still, she smiled. Even as Thalia threatened her. Hell, now she was feeling crazy for once, but something about what she felt just.. There was hope.

"My name is Iris."

 

[Thalia Senn]

Tags: Kai Bamarri | Iris Arani

RIDE THE WAVE
​

She wished she wasn't wearing a helmet so she could spit. She hated that smile, so patronizing, so infuriatingly innocent.

It pissed her off.

Her eye twitched in anger but she steadied her breathing. In the Force she found the Storm and rode the waves. The hum of her electroripper staff became louder in her ears, colors became clearer, and her movements more refined. This was waveform, or at least her understanding of it, to ride the currents of the Force. They were different everywhere but if you could your storm would be legendary.

"Well Iris," she said, "I wanted you to know, that the last thing your blade will know before for I bleed it and it bends to my will, will be you as I gut you like a skyeel. And in a thousand years, long after you or I or any of us are dead and gone, the only thing it will hear are your final desperate cries for help and mercy. I'm going to enjoy forcing it learn to love that memory." She struck out like a viper. The staff lanced out at Iris, the Dark Jedi catching the staff end for a surprise reach strike.

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

Where the Jedi were all approaching the facility from one side, Cotan had taken a long hike around to one side of the facility. Where they all activated their weapons and charged, he hung back, waiting to see, waiting to sense just what might happen. While he wasn't nearly as skilled in the more mystical arts of the Force as some, his senses were well attuned, and while everybody else was playing their part, his chosen role was to seek out one of the enemy commanders and try to take them away from the fight.

And by the Force, he could certainly sense that one.

But of course, where the other Jedi were managing to step up and achieve their goals...

"I surrender," he said calmly, raising his hands. He'd managed to come under the radar of a speeder running some of the Sith forces to try and flank the main body of the Jedi. Not exactly what he'd been looking to do. The Sith in the lead—Snivvian, they looked like, though Cotan couldn't quite tell in the darkness—grunted something at one of their compatriots. The compatriot stepped forward, glaring down at him with a snarling, reptilian face—

Wait, a Thalassian? With a Snivvian? Oh, perfect.

—and started pulling the weapons off of his belt, while the other kept the hilt of a lightsaber pointed right at him. He could hear the hum of a few others behind him, as well, although he hadn't even gotten a good look at who or what any of them were. "So. Kill any of his family?" Cotan asked conversationally, nodding in the direction of the Snivvian. The Thalassian turned to glare at him again, hissing out...something.

He'd never actually learned Thalassian. "Or did any of your family kill any of his? I mean, I know you Maw types don't seem to have much of an issue with slavery or anything, wouldn't be surprised if any of the extended family got involved—" The Snivvian growled something out. Behind him, Cotan could sense—Force, he could hear some of the others shift in unease. The Thalassian snapped back at the Snivvian, and Cotan looked over. "I mean, it's not unheard of for slaves to become Sith either, is it? Whew, wouldn't that be awkward, though?"

More disquiet among the ranks. Clearly, these two had a history with each other, and Cotan was definitely pressing the right buttons. Until, of course, the Snivvian and Thalassian both pointed their weapons at him, saying something in concert. Probably some sort of 'we can fight each other on our own time, Jeedai' or other such nonsense. He rolled his eyes. "Well, fair enough. So, what's the goal, then? Take me off to Darth Caelitus?"

A coupled recoiled in response to that name, shaking off the confidence that had been building back up. Good old Sith fear tactics. "Or try to parade me out in front of the others, demoralize them? That's not likely to work, but if you go with the former I can almost guarantee you'll be able to cash in on the bounty on me." It took a moment for him to realize that the Thalassian was laughing, and the next words were ones he could figure out the meaning to fairly easily. Your head will be proof enough.

"Oh, Sithspit, you got me." The Snivvian and the Thalassian both activated their lightsabers, aimed to skewer him through the chest. He dropped before they could connect, twirling on the ground and kicking upwards. Both red blades went flying towards the others behind, curses ringing out as they were narrowly batted aside. He came back to his feet, kicking in the Thalassian's left knee; the Snivvian threw a punch at him, but he just leaned backwards, grabbed the thick-skinned mammal's arm, and threw him back into the others behind.

They did manage to surprise him a bit, leaping over their flung comrade rather than just cutting him aside. As they were landing, though, Cotan sent the Thalassian flying in their direction as well, and multiple of them ended up tangled together on the ground. The one who didn't leaped at him just as he retrieved his gun belt, falling to a quick spray of blaster bolts courtesy of an open-bottomed holster. He ducked away from the body, but sent the still-active red blade careening back through the air, impaling the Snivvian as he was standing back up.

The other three were met with the sight of him leaping backwards into their landspeeder, blasters, sabers, and sword all back in hand. "Call ahead for me!" he bid them, before activating the blaster cannon that had been bolted onto it with the Force, sending them diving away from the salvo in all different directions. With the way clear before him, he put the pedal to the floor, accelerating away from the scene before they could regroup. "Force, I love technicals."

It didn't take long, after that, for him to reach his quarry, where the Dark Lord was overseeing the ongoing defense. With no doubt that his presence had been sensed as well, Cotan rather brazenly kept driving closer to where Halketh was stood, before throwing the landspeeder into a hard left turn and leaping out of it, sailing over the heads of any other Sith just to land within a few meters of his target, Force-imbued sword drawn.

"Halketh," he greeted the Sith lord, his cordial tone certainly at odds with the blade in his hand. "May I have this dance?"

 

[Iris Arani]

"Mmnope."

There was reason to it all, at least. Iris was thinking, for the first time really in a fight. Not just trusting the Force, not just relying on other people. She'd experienced a lot. And one of those things she experienced was someone filled with rage. The angrier someone got, the easier she could see their colors. Influence them. As Thalia Senn struck out and the colors shifted to show Iris what was going to happen, she jumped back. And threw the paint can.

Her blade cut up, severing the can as she closed her eyes. Let her blade continue through to deflect the spear. Just as the hyper pressurized green paint exploded out to coat both the Jedi and fallen Padawans.

 

[Darth Kalyptos]

K A L Y P T O S
CHILDREN OF THE VOID
BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW
HEART OF THE BEAST
Okkeus Dainlei | OPEN

UNEARTHING THE BEAST
ASOG '74
​

The Neophytes trained their weapons on the Jedi upon his approach and at the hand motion of their commander, the battlemind, the shrieking symphony of particle beam fire cracked out in the direction of Okkeus. Springing from the darkness at different angles of assault toward the Jedi's multi colored blades. Relentess reprisal from the Khot Vong unto the interloper, no chance of dramatic ceremony in a duel of fates, only the cruelty of a breed of Sithspawn who knew only the darkness, knew only the strength needed to survive a horrid, primal existence.

Peering through the bright orange of their respirators, two of the Khot Vong insurgents lobbed poison grenades toward the Knight before the Battlemind cracked off another round of his pistol, tightening the grip of his vibro axe before he'd bark a command in Vong toward one of the insurgents who nodded once and turned to bolt down the tunnel.

Beneath the shriek and crack of mining tool against rock, the Neophyte approached Kalytpos, kneeling before the Sith Sorcerer before peering up with pale eyes toward the hooded man who only nodded once, following him back to the scene of Dainlei's arrival.

Appearing from the darkness, a single violet blade erupted from the shadowy silhouette. Under the hail and storm of blaster fire Kalyptos stood and waited for the Jedi to make his deluded lurch into the fray toward him.

​

​

 

[Vesta]

This was..

..Unexpected.​

Mastermind of the desolation of Mykr, conductor of the cult that propped up the Sith Empire until it crumbled under its own weight, and one of the conspirators working towards the complete destruction of galactic order and the eradication of Jedi at every turn - free to leave. Initially she was shocked, expecting the usual rhetoric of betrayal or the drivel of the light and dark sides of the force, but rather quickly she found herself amused by the irony of it all. She had pegged him as someone who was like her cousin, his father, only with a streak of heroism in him as opposed to villainy; what she had found, however, was a man that was every bit the naïve heroic that the Jedi who were raised into that lifestyle were. She wasn't entirely certain, but it seemed like he assessed her based on her rejection of their family ties alone.

"That's quite the strategy, offering your enemy the chance to evade the labor of a fight so you can eliminate the weapon they intend to use against you." She said, smirking. If the humor she found in him, and the way she made fun of it, didn't make it clear that she had no intention of simply letting him get by then she wasn't sure it would even matter if she spelled it out for him. "The weapon is useless to me, just a tool for them not to rely on my assistance, but I don't suppose you put two and two together to realize what that would imply, did you?" Vesta asked as she lowered the tip of her lightsaber towards the ground, it barely half a centimeter away from grazing against it.

"Honestly I was hoping you'd run off hoping I wouldn't chase after you, I did promise your father I wouldn't hurt anyone unless they insisted on getting in the way.. and, well, you just seem to insist.."

She made a waving gesture with her hand, implying the promise was about as important to her as the weapon that Darth Solipsis was after.

"I'm really quite offended that you would let someone like me go -- is that how your father managed to live for so long, just making weapons that posed a bigger immediate threat than he seemed to be so idiots like you could just trade his 'freedom' with his cooperation?" She asked, rather bizarrely critical of the whole idea - she was supposed to be a Sith but seemed keen on holding Kahlil Noble to the sort of scrutiny that his own allies were supposed to place him under. "Before we do this song and dance - and I promise I will, if you insist - did you, any of you or your friends, stop to think about how people like me came about?"

Her lightsaber lifted, though she seemed to realize the optics of such with the roll of her eyes and a calming gesture from her hand, to point its tip towards him.

"People like you." She said with a rather large degree of disdain. "If I go free and you, say, kill the madman after this weapon, maybe destroy the weapon too, where does that leave me? Out free to become exactly who you are here to stop, only I'm not starting nearly as low on the totem pole as you might like to have thought, so now I'm leaving here and I'm after another planet, maybe the same one you've just come from, and I bring maybe half of the Maw with me."

She lowered her weapon, giving him a knowing look - he didn't seem to be quite as cunning as she would have liked, she doubted she could hold his attention with this kind of moralistic debate for long before a lightsaber might end up swinging her way, but the gears had to be turning by now.

"Where does that leave all of the people who got you here? Dead. Leaving behind children and refugees that are angry at you for your incompetence.. and me, for my cruelty. Some of them might join up with your friends.. become Jedi.. whatever, but there's always going to be that one kid who really loved their parent, their friend, whoever, and the rest of their life becomes an attempt on my life.. and an attempt at making this galaxy better."

She gestured towards the quarry, where the face of the Maw was right now, and then to herself.

"The cycle continues, and it happens again.. and again.. when does it end? Is it our fault for becoming the things we hated, that ruined our lives, or is the fault of the man who had the chance to stop the first card from falling that toppled all the rest on its way to making us into the villains standing here today?"

She paused, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.

"I always wanted to try that, I really can't see the appeal in these long-winded speeches your dad loves to engage in - convincing enough?"

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Kahlil opened his mouth to speak. Reply. Really anything, but Darth Mori continued on. Way more than he expected her to. He slowly closed his mouth, keeping the smile on his lips. Listening. To every word she said. Every second of talk was another second of them not having to fight. Of keeping her away from those already on their way down to destroy the weapon. That was his job. Keep her from harming anyone else here.

"Technically dear old Dad has died a couple times now, so the part about letting him go alive wouldn't of been accurate. But everything else was pretty spot on, I think." Was it an act? Honestly, for a moment he genuinely thought Mori was one of the Zambrano straight up. Long winded speeches probing at morality, it fit the bill. Now he was chuckling. Maybe she was different then?

"But, to answer, I don't know. While we're talking some other maniac in the galaxy could be wandering around devouring planets. And by some other I mean my father probably is doing that right now. Should I abandon what I'm doing then to go stop him? But then, you could go off and slaughter another world if you wanted. Or the mission here fails and the Maw destroys another planet."

His hands lowered, calmly resting by his side.

"I can't end the cycle. No one person can. But if by letting you go, showing that we don't have to fight, convinces you in some way to stay your hand, then maybe the cycle can end. Either way, all I can do is focus on what's in front of me. Galaxies too big to take on every problem."

 

[Blade Ice]

Death to Strike Team Kenobi!​

Post: 2
Objective: Gun Fight
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

---

Blade had casually made his way to the fray that was now breaking out, just his luck he wasn't going to get fight the whole jedi force by himself. Damn shame he thought himself as he took another puff from his death stick. His combat kicked up some dirt and his duster blew wildly in the breeze as he began to move through the fray. He dodged quickly and with ease as Jedi charge their sith combatants and vice versa. A Jedi ran right in front of him, and Blade just stopped and put out a boot tripping the jedi up causing them to tumble forward into a roll. "Heh" he smirked to himself but kept walking still not having drawn his weapons.


He wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for, but he knew he would know it when he saw it, he shoved a jedi out of his way and then the sith he was fighting with. "Get the hell out of my way, children." He remarked as he kept moving. It was as he pushed his way through them, he saw a Jedi well he was assuming a jedi pushing into the fray, the force called out telling him this was the one. Why Blade didn't know? He no longer asked such foolish questions of the force just let it guide him to his target.


His orange sulfuric eyes burn as for the first time he pulled his sabers from his belt. His hands reaching behind his back and pulling them free. He spun them each once in both his hands then ignited them one by one. Snap-hissssss A fiery orange blade sprung to life in his left hand the color of his eyes. Then a second Snap-hisssss followed an icey blue saber then came to life next to life in Blade's right hand. As this happened, he stopped in a small open area in the chaotic fray erupting around them. His eyes locked unto Dhalinar Greystar eyes. The death stick hung between Blade's lips as he stared down the one he chose as his opponent, if he couldn't fight them all, this one would have to do.


"Guess it's your unlucky day, kid." Making sure Dhalinar was aware he was speaking to him Blade kicked a rock up at the man it wouldn't cause any real harm but it would get his attention.

 

[Kaiah Nihl]

​

Location: Asog | Mining Facility | Covered Bridge
Objective: Defend the Facility
Status: In a Crisis of Faith
Equipment: Loose Fitting Black-Red Robes | Purple Lightsaber |2x Tehk'la Blades | Telos IV Orb (Force Talisman)
Tags: Valery Noble

​

She padded down through the facility, her feet barefoot on the cool metal walkways. She meandered aimlessly until she stopped in the middle of a long hallway. She glanced up and down the structure – it was a covered bridge that crossed over a large quarry to connect to a fuel depot, with a tall roof and an upper gallery. Making sure she was alone, Kaiah reached into her robe, hesitating as her fingers touched the cool metal of the orb. Eventually she swallowed and pulled the talisman from the voluminous pocket.

She remembered it was once bright silver, but now it was a dull gray - ashen. It was an old Agricorps artefact, stolen from the Telos IV Restoration Zone. She knew her Sith allies would disapprove, as there were better tools to draw on – ones that weren't made by their ancient enemy. And the Jedi would be horrified to see how she had corrupted their device of growth and healing.

The crack that Dagos Terrek had repaired had returned, spreading further and deeper. She traced the damage with her fingers, her stomach turning. She had found her peace on Telos IV; she should have left it there. But she had been greedy, power-hungry. She had told the padawan that she had moved away from the dark, that she was ready to atone. She was a hypocrite and a liar.

She held the orb high above her head. Her hand clenched around the sphere; she gritted her teeth. 'I'll smash it' she thought. 'No more thoughts of redemption. No more thoughts of peace. I don't deserve it. Some deeds cannot be forgiven'. She started shivering and shaking; a splitting headache pulsed behind her temples. She couldn't tell where her thoughts ended and the whispers of Asog started. 'I'll destroy the orb - I'll spread its ashes on a hundred petrified worlds and watch as the Sith's Weapon spreads terror to the galaxy'. The dark thoughts continued unabated, and her mind whirled. 'And when others have suffered as I have, then I can finally fade away. A quiet death, at the edge of the universe. Forgotten and alone'

Her arm quivered. She took a deep breath and braced herself. "This is who I am" she whispered in her sing-song accent. "No more second chan-"

She was interrupted as the facility rocked with a nearby explosion. She whirled around to see the interior of the fuel depot on fire. Another explosion shook the building, and she watched as a massive fireball surged up and pushed its way down the hallway.

She splayed her hands out in front of her and the fire parted just before it reached her. The flames licked greedily at her robes, singeing the fabric but leaving her skin unharmed. The inferno passed, and she looked around to find her surroundings were a smoldering mess. Great plumes of smoke coalesced around her, obscuring her vision. Kaiah stumbled around, disorientated, but stopped when she heard someone land nearby. She stiffened when she saw a pair of orange eyes in the darkness.

The woman that emerged out of the smoke was shorter than her but strode with a confidence that made her seem giant. Most of her long brown hair was tied into a ponytail, leaving loose bangs to flutter in the rising hot air. Two violet lightsabers ignited from the hilts in each of her hands. "That's quite far enough" the stranger said.

Kaiah reached into her sleeves for the weapons strapped to her arms. A strange calm washed over her as she placed her feet into an old traditional Nagaian dueling stance. She said nothing, instead drawing her Tehk'la Blades and dashing forward. She stopped and pivoted, throwing the dagger in her right hand at the woman - aiming for her face. It was an obvious move, and she suspected the Jedi would be able to dodge it easily. When she did however, Kaiah would pull the blade back toward the Jedi using the force – hopefully lodging it in the woman's back or side. The blade in her left hand would be used for blocking and parrying. She kept her face blank, but her orange eyes betrayed an inner madness and desperation.

 

[Darth Ptolemis]

CRAWLING CHAOS

TAG: Dimitri Voltura Zaka | Open!
Equipment in bio.

Ancient, carelessly broken dripstones lined the spacious tunnels that led toward the main excavation. Metallic thuds echoed within Asog's twisting underbelly; sounds of harsh labor travelling alongside pieces of gravel that rolled down the slight decline. Ptolemis rotated his shoulder and tugged slightly on the narrow chain link running between his shoulders and across his chest as he observed the dozens of drudges that he and his master helped transfer over from a nearby Maw world. The monotonous, linear existence of these creatures gave way for sprawling trains of thought within the obsessive mind of the Dragon's apprentice. Could this comedy of life be called living? Is even the definition of life definite? It is so easy to write these macabre beings off as mindless automatons crafted of flesh. Through evil design, they are void of any ability to react. But could there be something … anything behind that gaze bereft of emotion? In the eyes of the Force, they were worthless. However, even the Force does not have the answer to all of life's questions. Even the Force isn't perfect. There was no way to measure consciousness. Yet.

Ptolemis will find a way. To measure it, to study it, and to manipulate it.

Perhaps one day, even, to create it…

His master's words jolted him back into reality, and he turned his head to look at the armored methuselah.
​

"Gently. Gently!"

The Dragon growled at the excavators that he and his apprentice were overseeing.
"I will smash your head in if you set that off, you simple man!"

Ptolemis' masked gaze travelled calmly back onto the slave. The worker tensed, then trembled, clutching the iron pick in his hands as the scorching gaze of the Dragon loomed over him. Eventually, the enslaved, malnourished Human continued, out of fear for his life; this time more carefully. His master's usual, eerily cool demeanor was rarely interrupted by anger – and when it did, even the Fondorian apprentice was humbled by its magnitude. So difficult it is for a Sith to restrain themselves. So much power was sown into the fabric of hate and anger. How much time needed to pass, how many decades of meditation to transcend this curse. His master's power was truly remarkable. The apprentice was beginning to piece the lesson together. Perhaps even more power lay past blind fury. Hidden beneath the surface, an open vastness of profound knowledge and true strength within the Dark Side of the Force.

"Walk with me, Lord Ptolemis." he told his apprentice as he moved back in the direction of the dark tunnels.

Deep brown army boots emerged from the Sith apprentice's crawling robes with each step as he approached his master, slowing down one step behind him.

"Hopefully they would stop hammering away at the last of that stone like it was a piece of iron that needed to be flattened when we aren't watching them like our next meal." he joked as they went.

The human in Ptolemis let out a genuine chuckle under his mask. His half-smile audible in his spoken words, he replied. – Maybe your new servant could be commissioned to oversee them, master? – He smiled for a couple more seconds as they went. Never did the corrupted Fondorian smile outside of his personal study. He looked at the Dragon like a father he never had. Which also made him the apprentice's single greatest weakness. He knew, deep down, that this weakness of his revealed more about his descent down the dark path than he wanted to admit; even to himself.

And then, his master stopped him, blocking his path with an extended arm. A second later – a disturbance in the Force. 'Again, he felt it sooner…' Ptolemis thought, never ceasing to marvel at the skills of his mentor.

"We have visitors." he told Orlov quietly. "You know what to do. No one gets to that weapon." he added. <And no slaughter.> the mental order echoed afterwards.

~ Whatever the cost, I will stop them, master. I believe … it's the Jedi. ~ Ptolemis replied through thought. He let a couple of nearby dredges pass, and stepped to the side, facing the torch-lit mine shaft that crawled toward the surface. His arms hidden beneath his cloak, he stood solemnly beside his master, awaiting whatever may manifest before the shadowy Sith Lords.

 

[Darth Solipsis]

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
Near the Sith Superweapon

​

The Dark Voice came to a halt, his advance impeded as he began his ascent. Tilting his head back, the Elder soaked in the passions of those around him. The Jedi had come, he could feel the clash between Light and Dark upon the empyrean spectrum just as he could his own skin. If allowed they would undo his designs upon the weapon and destroy it, preventing catastrophe upon innumerable worlds, but this was only the tip of the iceberg. If they failed, they had no idea the true design of what he had for such a device, and what other than destructive such an engine of incalculable power could accomplish.

No, they would not see victory this day. He would see them buried beneath the sands of Asog.

The Dark Lord of the Sith turned to face the distant struggles with dark grimace, his stained eyes glistened in the radiant darkness and as he reached out into the empyrean a palpable aura of hate erupted from within. A deep probe of the sensory web into the life wind, his thoughts, his senses, they were carried along and guided by his Will. The familiar taint of countless foes crossed over a long bloody road, the ethereal sight of a desperate master in Dagon Kaze , the stench of redemption in Kahlil Noble , the heroics of a relic long past it’s time in Valery Noble , and.. ah.. the spawn that would be a Jedi.

​

A sharp, screeching sound attempted to pry into the mind of Kai Bamarri . The Dark Lord latched onto the imparted fragment of torment left behind on Jedha, seeking inroads into what would usually be simple domination of a sithspawn, but Kai was no ordinary sithspawn. He had become so much more and yet in the eyes of the Sith’ari..

..so much less.

Like an apparition the Dark Lord whispered to his disciple, Thalia Senn , from the empyrean, like a disembodied spirit over her shoulder.

​

​

​

​

 

[Kai Bamarri]

<Domxite thinks she can be saved... You think we can get her back to the Temple if we capture her?>

Kai knew firsthand that redemption was possible—but he also knew there was no guarantee that Thalia could be saved. Iris' use of we also didn't go unnoticed. <Maybe if we knocked her out,> he suggested, starting to dismount from Sophie. He could leave the Warghest to secure the corridor while he and Iris took Thalia down—

Kai... Spawn of Sith... did you think I forgot you?

Kai's nerves erupted with a sudden searing agony, driving him nearly to his knees. Sophie howled and snapped her teeth at an unseen enemy.

<Yeah... you kind of did.> He bit out. <Too busy chasing... daddy's little brat.>

He hadn't intended to make it personal, but the Old Man of the Sith was off his rocker if he thought Kai could be so easily baited. The pain, on the other hand... the doppelganger's flesh warped, nerve endings flaring, sending out all the wrong signals. He struggled forward with halting steps, nearly losing his grip on his lightsaber, his hand too melted to hold the hilt properly.

If Solipsis came here, they were screwed. That thought crossed his mind as he watched Iris use her paint can against Thalia. The conflict over Domxite seemed so small in comparison to the war being raged across the stars. The bond between a Jedi girl and her lightsaber, so insignificant.

But what could Kai do in the face of such reckless hate? He was only himself. Capturing Thalia, whether for punishment or salvation, he could do. Raising his blade, the monstrosity rendered by Solipsis' torture lunged forward, aiming to bring the pommel of his lightsaber crashing down on Thalia's head.

Iris Arani Thalia Senn​

 

[Darth Vow]

/ /A S O G / /
O B J | I I / / T H E = W E A P O N
e l e g a n c e
​

She is night,
born from ash
she is a nightmare encased in the stitched belly of disease

She was to be called the one, the trial of 18
she is now but a number
She is death
the rose of demise

/ / ​

---

The tattered cloak draped around her, shimmering in slow motion, making liquid jealous of its fluidity. Oh, how she enjoyed this grand yet muted entrance from the shadows, tiptoeing through the frost. Her maw dribbled with sound and fury laced with vicious femininity, "Dear one…" The voice called forth, the sound slithering through open ears gripping onto her synapses, only to twist them until they screamed. Oh, silent scream, only seen through dilated pupils…the grimace of her face, the crimson tears left in her wake. "...dance for me?" Her decaying breath melted into sweetness. No one would be the wiser.

The sound of violent breaking, contorting. The shell of her cocoon left on the floor, discarding the cloak to drape a new garment upon her frame. She peered down into the eyes of the former, or rather the sockets she had stolen from.

"…hsinav…"

The carcass had dissolved, turning mass into liquid, seeping into the snow where she had come from. No one would be the wiser, she thought, traversing through the frigid landscape with her nose pressed to the sky. She could smell their innocence, their desire for purpose.

...which one will grant me exaltation?

An invitation has brought them here. Though she was not concerned with tasks nor duties but to prolong their hunt, to be a wolf in sheep's clothing and toy with the lights she so desperately desired to dim. 



"Hello?!"

A small smirk curled at the corner of her lips, drawing the cloak further atop her head to hide her face. Now was the time to put this body to the test, she tugged at each string, one bound wrist and the other to feet. "…beautiful…puppet…" She whispered, finding a small pocket within the cave wall to set as her stage. Slowly descending, she drew the cloak upon her even tighter. Her smile vanishing once the shivering set in, rattling her form so violently her bones began to sing.

"…H-hello….?" She called to the small voice at the other end of her string.



/ / Silas Westgard

​

 

[Xarielle Pavanos]

Never let it be said that Xarielle was sitting out the entirety of the war. Whilst it had been ongoing, she was getting her bearings. Her last encounter with the Jedi had been with Jedi Master Valery Noble where a happenstance crash landing, led Xarielle to obtain her first kyber crystal. That crystal now laid back on her private ship, and she was here with a strike team meant to distract the Sith. She managed to be packed onto a stealth transport with everyone else, a man that was known to everyone else as Dagon Kaze cleared his throat and spoke to them all. Xarielle half wondered just what in the Force she was doing there, she was just supposed to be visiting Temples, writing down her observations and recording the histories of the Force.

There she was with a trusty blaster at her side, with her thoughts placed on the events at Ilum. What did any of it mean, if it meant anything? Duty. Service. None of that meant anything, she was just a kid from Balmorra nothing more, nothing less - and yet there she was getting ready to face the unknown to leap into danger for no other reason than she was there and she was able to. Was she a Jedi? Xarielle didn't know, she hadn't studied to be one. In fact, part of her felt like the last person to become a Jedi - was a child of a Sith.

May the Force be with you.

May the Force be with you, soft brown eyes grew even softer at the phrase, she remembered Ilum. She recalled the encounter with her grandfather, who as a Force Ghost guided her to that kyber crystal. I will always be with you, I will guide you every step of the way Rielle. Without hesitation, Xarielle charged into the fray wearing her favorite black combat boots, Balmorran flight pants with blood stripes, a black blaster vest, and a black shirt - she looked nothing like a Jedi.

Xarielle followed the group as they moved through the forest up the hill. Careful to ensure that her steps were not heard, staying within the last line of trees. The drum of machines afar permeated the air with their harsh industrial clanks that punctuated the silence that had fallen over the group. What some would consider being the repugnant sense of the Dark Side, almost felt like home for Xarielle. Perhaps it was due to her own heritage she hadn't come to hate it and maybe that was a good thing.

[Open to Interaction]​

 

[Valery Noble]

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Location: Asog​

Valery: Appearance​

Outfit: Factory Link​

Lightsabers: Link!​

Tag: Kaiah Nihl ​

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The woman didn't seem like an overly talkative type, which Valery could appreciate quite a bit. Some she had faced in the past went on annoyingly long monologues, but her opponent remained quiet and readied herself in a combative stance. It wasn't one Valery recognized, and the daggers that were drawn seemed like they were going to make for an interesting clash too. ​

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Kaiah then began her swift approach, stopping only to pivot and throw one of the daggers straight for Valery's face. As expected, the Jedi Master utilized her Force-augmented speed and with a minimalistic shift of her upper body, she allowed the blade to pass. Without wasting a second afterward, Valery began to close in on Kaiah, only to feel danger echo through the Force from behind her.​

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The dagger was coming back, and Valery had an idea.​

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Without revealing any emotion or her true intentions, she pressed forward and waited for the moment the dagger was about to connect with her back. At this point, Valery was up-close with Kaiah, and just about ready to begin the clash with her lightsabers. But then suddenly something changed about the Jedi's connection to the world — the dagger passed through Valery with whatever speed Kaiah had given it, but nothing happened to the woman.​

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Using her training as a former Shadow, Valery had phased through the dagger, hoping for it to strike her opponent instead. It wasn't a trick she could pull off against the same opponent twice, but she hoped to get some advantage out of it. ​

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So with the dagger hopefully being a problem to its owner, Valery stepped out of phase, and aimed a powerful diagonal sweep across the woman's torso with her right lightsaber, keeping the other ready for a guard while she hoped to take down her target.​

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[Dagon Kaze]

RETRIBUTION
THE GREAT ERROR vol. III
Issue #2 vs. Adriana Fortemps

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Blue eyes followed her glance down to the hellish quarry where half the monolith stood erect. Alerts rang across the cold night scurrying workers, droids, and Sith in different directions. Shifting back his solemn attention on the Sith, Dagon couldn't help but notice the stark, yet ironic difference between what lay beneath their feet - an infernal weapon dug up by the wretched hands of Darth Kalyptos 's repugnant, malformed neophytes barking raucous orders and the slender, beguiling taskmaster supervising it all from above.

The Sith always were a grim product of greed, vanity, and fear.

"No hard feelings."

She unclipped her blade with a barely visible hint of reluctance that made his brow arch in surprise. It caught him nearly off guard when the Sith's blade darted at his shoulder. He leaned back instinctively, demonstrating his natural disposition to acrobatics, yet somewhat clumsily. The crimson blade grazed the top of his shoulder scorching the flesh beneath and Dagon stumbled to regain his footing, noting how close his lapse of focus could've left him one-armed, then whipped his blade at her hands from the side for a heavy rattle.

"...can't say I didn't try."
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[Haro Harend]

Location: Mining facility, Asog
Objective I- Survive and figure out what happened to that Rule of Two thing
Equipment:
1x Crossguard Lightsaber
1X Double-barreled blaster combine
Jedi Temple Guard Armor, Sans Helmet
#NowPlaying
Writing With: Xarielle Pavanos

As Haro approached the mining facility, he was gripped by paranoia. But he was a stubborn old goat, and there wasn't anything resembling shelter within view. And he wasn't about to chance sleeping in plain view, as night falls, in the element, that absolutely reeks of the Dark Side.

The first thing that went wrong was the unmistakeable clash of lightsabers, deep within the mine. Haro's browed furrowed. 'He couldn't have known I would be here, and the Order doesn't either. So who are they?'

'...And is this place?'

"Well, well, well. A Jedi...little long in the tooth though. You lost old man?"

Haro spun around...to see a young man, idly twirling a lightsaber. "Sure am, friend", he responded casually, to mask the shock of this stranger getting the jump on him, while simultaneously grateful he was too arrogant to have gutted him right there and then. "Had a little engine trouble about a mile west or so, wanted to get in this facility you have here, use your comm...if you weren't opposed to a little hospitality." He kept his tone light, even as he studied him.

The stranger laughed lightly, and ignited his lightsaber, bathing the area in a eerie red glow. "Hospitality? Your funny, old man." He looked directly at Haro for the first time and the Korunnai almost swore- yellow eyes. "Matter of fact, I'll do you one better- how about I be hospitable and end you real quick-like?" The Sith blurred into motion, his blade stopping short as Haro's lightsaber sprung to life with a distinct snap-hiss.

The Sith was an explosion of energy, attempting to pound away Haro's defenses. But the Jedi calmly turned away his strikes. Growing frustrated, the younger man upped the ante, slamming his lightsaber against Haro's, slowly pushing it towards his neck. On paper, this was solid. Experience can only take you so far- he was younger, and stronger, and this Jedi had seen better days. He can easily overpower him. Unfortunately for him, Haro knew this too.

Abruptly, he shifted, allowing the Sith Lord's momentum to carry him forward, saber moving cut him down the middle. Eyes wide, the Sith reacted quickly, the saber slicing him at the shoulder. Haro kicked his weapon away and stood over him, lightsaber at his throat. "I've had an long and frankly awful day. So your going to answer some questions about Sidious, and maybe I make sure you get a hot meal in your cell." The Sith looked at him quizzically. "...Sidious...?"

A flicker of motion caught his eyes- a group running through the tree-lines. The distraction was all the Sith Lord need. With an application of the Force, he threw up some dust and darted toward the group- aiming for a girl in the back. Haro swore, coughing as he unstrapped his carbine. He aimed for his adversary, and reached out in the Force to the Xarielle Pavanos and sent a simple message.

'GET DOWN.'

He pulled the trigger.

 

[Yula Perl]

Cadere | Del | Hilal Vizsla

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On a planet so entrenched in Darkness, Yula was struck by a spark of familiarity. Like a static shock, it surged for a moment then faded vaguely into the background. Familiar, but how?

Perhaps it was Sith trickery, but she'd follow that string to the precipice of the ridge that overlooked the mining facility. There, she spied a helmeted figure flanked by a sour-looking woman. The Force thrummed, and the specter's visor jerked upwards.

Ducking behind a rocky outcrop at the last moment, Yula steadily diffused her presence into the night, dispersing it among the vibrations of the Force. Stealth has never been her forte in the past, but learning to obscure her signature had proven to be more than helpful while pulling jobs on Denon.

She would not stay hidden for long. As the Dark Knight turned to enter the interior facility, Yula leaped. Hurdling from above, she intercepted him with a furious stroke of her yellow blade. A nasty grin drew her lips upward, dark hair whipping around her rosy face like a banshee.

She'd forgotten how exhilarating going on the offensive could be.

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[Halketh]

DON'T LET GO
THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW
DARK LORD OF THE SITH
H A L K E T H
The Aegis of Woe | Lightsaber
The Perished | 4268/4400
// Cotan Sar'andor \\

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The clamorous chorus of battle once more, the ravenous New Sith unleashed upon the Jedi for what felt like the hundredth time now. Fatigue wore heavy upon his shoulders, burdensome was his mantle, and crushing was the weight of the calamity he wrought. This hellish crusade, the path of vengeance, this plunge into the onyxian pit of rage and wrath, he had grown tired of it. Ambitions for a world without loss, for a galaxy free of tyranny and grief had carried him this far, dragged his feet over the bones of those he had put to the blade, until his comrades crushed them to naught but dust scattered in the wind. A reprieve in the midst of catastrophe, the Dark Lord found himself contemplating the overtures of his conquest, scarred, trembling hands finding one another to entwine before his belt. What was it all for, really? Never had he cared for the superiority of the Sith, nor for the blossom of influence to overturn balance in the favor of the Darkness. It was spite, initially, bitterness which had rot him from within, consuming his rationale and leaving nothing but an empty shell where madness personified had moved in.

The cold greeted him, its whispering winds ushering reflections of what should have been to his attention, of the mirth he had constructed with his own hands. The safety of his world, Carlac, left to ruin by the invocation of his madness. He had turned on them, his people, he had left them with nothing after promising them they would never sacrifice for the sake of war again. He had deprived children of their parents, he had stolen lovers from one another, and he had twisted life into a hollow mockery unfit for even the darkest of tales. But what for? The question that plagued his dreams plagued his waking hours, driving him inward to consider. It was never about power nor greed, simply, this galaxy was too far gone to be saved. There was nothing the peoples of the galaxy wanted more than to destroy one another.

Merely, his crusade was a kindness, ushering forth the end that would have otherwise been dragged out for continuous eons.

He was sparing generations to come from their ancestral mistakes.

That's what the twisted voice at the forefront of his conscience assured him, at least, what passed through the lips of the Dark Lord. But within, ever struggling against the obsidian shackles bound to his hands and feet, the sorcerer knew better. This was nothing more than a platitude, a comfort passed through shrouds of manipulation, uttered to the one clutching the reins. He was too blind, Caelitus, to see his wrath had turned him into little more than a puppet for the same people he had once despised. Solipsis and Muwian were one in the same, he needn't her phantom haunting him to see as much any longer. Two halves of the same whole, a juxtaposition of the balance necessary to uphold the fabric of reality. If he had the choice to make for himself, what would he decide?

"My Lord, our forces are breaking through." His considerations were disturbed, the voice waking him from his brood. He lifted his bare face, his scarred lips taut in a thin line flirting with scowl. "I see," his voice resonated the flurry cascading around him, and the pivot to follow shed the gathered flakes from his cloaked shoulders, "maintain the advance, move forward to support Darth Kalyptos ' neophytes." He instructed, sending his acolyte back into the unfurling chaos. He stood alone upon the rocky precipice, left to his rumination thusly.

Gauntleted fingers brushed their pads over the masque clutched in his hands, the Dark Lord turning his ethereal Sight upon the visage of depravity the galaxy had come to fear. Well worn by the grate of time now, it had lost its edge. Poetic justice, he pondered, the stray thought earning a vague smirk to none but himself. Irony perhaps, even more so. A familiar Presence garnered his attention then, the hair on the nape of his neck urged to rise with piqued intensity. That fickle, flickering light he had long since grasped after, watching it slip between his fingers countless times. Hope. The crimson blindfold wound about his face creased, the miraluka turning himself about before the crunch of snow underfoot exposed the figure emerging to face him.

His face, hollowed by the tightening coil of corruption within him tilted, casting silvering strands to be toyed with by the breeze passing the two men by.

"Halketh," he greeted the Sith lord, his cordial tone certainly at odds with the blade in his hand. "May I have this dance?"

The miraluka grew still, his figure unmoving. "You've come far to ask me to dance," he spoke, his fatigue evident through even his typical monotone, "did you think I left myself unguarded so I could be bothered to fight?" He questioned, his features tugged into a frown, "Or that I would choose to remove myself from this conflict because I seek confrontation?" He sighed, his breath pushing a frosted cloud from between his scarred lips, "No." The Dark Lord turned his back on the man, his Sight focusing upon the view from the vista he had chosen to appreciate prior, "I'm glad you survived the collapse of the Temple," he stated, though his sincerity was hard to gauge, "would that anyone could, I am glad you did."

Halketh overturned the helm in his hands, bringing it to his body, he tucked it beneath an arm. "You should waste your talents on pursuits you care about, Sar'andor, not on these fickle quarrels no one will win."

 

[Firrerreo]

The fog of poison blocked out the draconic creature. Enveloping it instead of billowing out to envelop Jax Thio . Only for it to break through the cloud with claws extended and rage in it's eyes. Unaffected. Angry. Large claws reached out as Uzul went to snatch up the Jedi Master and rend him limb from limb.