Invasion Return of the Jedi | GA Invasion of TSE's Korriban/Felucia Hexes

[Jax Thio]

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Location: Korriban, Sith Academy​

Equipment: Jedi Armor, Jax's Lightsaber​

Tag: Aveline Cuiléin , Pom Stych Tivé​

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It was said that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes, when Master Oda died Jax could see her bloodied eyelids fluttering just a bit before she died. Did she see images of her life in her final moments? Questions like that haunted Jax for the next 12 years and now it had resurfaced in the worst way possible. "AVELINE!" Jax saw the Sith freeze his padawan and once again probed her mind. The Jedi could hear voices from Aveline's past, whispers of sorrow and loss, of confusion and grief.​

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Jax could feel Aveline's terror at the prospect of being lonely along with her fear, despair and pain. He was rooted to the ground paralyzed with fear and overwhelmed with what Aveline was experiencing. Jax couldn't lose her, he won't lose her. "STOP IT!" Jax roared at the Sith Sorceress begging every once of his being to move. He begged the force to wash away the emotional turmoil that he and Aveline were experiencing and turn it into power. Power that they can use to rid themselves of this Sith.​

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"FRACK YOU LET AVELINE GO!" Jax raised his Lightsaber charging towards the woman, full of rage and fury. He ignored the call for retreat, right now the Galactic Alliance didn't matter, the mission did not matter.​

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Saving Aveline's life was what took precedence, Jax couldn't afford to lose her because of him.​

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[Karn Syndulla]

location: Valley of the Dark Lords
Nearby: Kenth Ordo Takui Darth Prazutis Zark San Tekka

Karn could sense the internal frustration within the Padawan, feeling his doubt. He could surely understand how overwhelming it was to even lift the stone slab door. Regardless of which despite the Twi’leks lack of experience with combat. The young Knight was still confidant as all was as the Force willed it.

Even with sensing the darkness all around. In such a dangerous and dark place they still had a friend to save regardless. Looking as he tried to lift the door with his strength. Karn was gritting his teeth as he tried to lift the door with the Force.

“Listen, your strength will not bring open the door. Only together can we do it. Clear your mind. Reach out with your feelings and together we will bring open the door. Kenth needs us now.” He said some slight frustration still evident in his tone. Still kept trying to bring open the door it was even hard for all his strength to be focused alone on the door.

“Size does not matter. There is only the Force.” He said as time was not on their side and with the utmost importance, he reached out with some of his strength to help open

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

N I G H T S I S T E R S
the R E S U R R E C T I O N​

Enemy Tags: Jax Thio & Aveline Cuiléin ​

"I can teach you about real power; wouldn't you like that?" The Nightsister Matriarch asked the Padawan. She saw the girl tolerating the Darkness well enough, where so many would cower to helplessness by now. "Afterall there is no good nor bad among the Force. All there actually is, is one's alignment, the spirit that they have been born into. Darkness cannot learn from the Light, nor the Light learn to be powerful within the Darkness it opposes." The Nightsister continued to render her Potions unto the Padawan while she stroked the exposed flesh of her neck. She crooned finally, "You simply are not what they led you to believe. Look at him, your master, he needs you to believe that you are a Jedi, so his side doesn't lose his war."

Then the male dared to bark orders towards this Misandrist and she concluded, "See how violent he truly is, screaming and raging against the people indigenous to the planet he invades." She eyed the Jedi master with great scrutiny.

And he rushed towards her with his laser stick ignited in his hands all full rage and fury like. She fancied he has no idea who he really is, himself. But helping any common man find his place among the galaxy just ain't her thang. At the last moment of his rushed and unprofessional approach, she watched his lil' light toy take aim, and the Nightsister as calmly as ever suddenly turned her body to switch places with his Padawan.

Can this master halt in his steps at the last second?​

 

[Naero]

J E D I _ M A S T E R
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
Strike Team Rhysode

Two weeks before the attack on Korriban...

Jedi Master Naero clutched tight to a tattered brown scarf, the ruined fabric the only protection from Korriban's harsh climate. He rested within a cavern overlooking the valley, the cave entrance itself some two hundred feet up the cliff face. Below him, Sith personnel wandered to and fro, likely released by their dark masters on some twisted test. He turned from the entry and wandered to the small campfire he'd called home since his assignment to the planet by the Sword of the Jedi. The living standard of a cave left the zabrak wanting, but it wasn't the worst of his problems. The Dark Side itself irritated him. He could hear voices within the back of his mind. They promised anything from power or riches, all to entice the Jedi Master away from his righteous path.

Even at the cave's deepest point, sand still battered his body. He'd long given up trying to rid himself of the substance. While it frustrated him, every inch of the planet was covered in the grainy substance. He couldn't have done much about it if he tried.

He closed his eyes and settled in to rest. Hours went by before he awoke. He managed to maintain control of his body as his eyes snapped open, faint warnings from the Force drifting through his mind. The Jedi Master carefully reached beneath his mat and withdrew the lightsaber tucked away. He waited patiently, eyes locked on the faintly burning campfire a few short feet away.

Several minutes passed before the Jedi finally jumped up from his position and activated his saber. The cyan blade surged to life and cast an icy glow upon the small space. He looked past the light and studied the shadow, silently in search of whatever it was that disturbed his rest. When nothing came into view, Naero lowered himself down into a seated position. He crossed his legs and laid the weapon down beside him.

It wasn't until his eyes closed did his assailants strike.

A booted foot caught the Jedi Master in the side as a shadow slinked from the darkness. Another blow came from above him, thrown out to crash against the top of his head as the attacker fell from the cavern ceiling. Naero tumbled to the ground, caught entirely by surprise by the two Sith who discovered his location. The Jedi groaned out in pain, mentally cursing himself as his vision slipped away, and darkness overcame him.

He should've trusted in the Force.

​

The day of the attack...

Naero groaned as he pushed himself through the forgotten tomb. Cobwebs clung to the walls, bits of bone stuck out of the sand, and all manner of creepy crawlies skittered about. He ignored them as he pushed, attention focused solely on the presence hundreds of feet ahead of him. Today was the day. Everything he'd hoped for finally came to fruition. No more was he alone on the forsaken planet. His allies stood nearby, though he felt the darkness as it clung to them, threatening to overcome them as it had so many. If not for the limp, the zabrak would've broken into a sprint. Unfortunately, his weeks-long flight from the Sith saw him attain numerous injuries.

His left arm hung limp at his side, while a few small bones within each hand had fractured. His knee buckled with almost every step. Blood coated his right eye. The Jedi's last encounter with the Sith who'd hunted him for sport left him in poor straights.

"Just a few more steps," Naero muttered. "The Force has guided me thus far. It won't fail me."

Distant sounds of a struggle echoed down the tight corridor. He swore he could hear voices, perhaps a struggle, or maybe an argument? All the Jedi could make out was a sense of urgency, alongside a not-so-healthy helping of panic. Even so, there wasn't a better option. Going back meant a likely encounter with more of the Brotherhood's dogs. That wouldn't do for the Master. Not one bit.

He stepped up to the stone slab that locked the tomb shut and pressed against it. When it didn't budge, he collapsed before it and rested his side against the stone. They would get through. They had to.

ALLIES | NJO | NIO | Takui | Karn Syndulla | Kenth Ordo
ENEMIES | TSE | ELDER COMPACT

 

[Takui]

NEW JEDI ORDER

OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY | POST VI

EQUIPMENT: Blaster Rifle | Armor

SOMEWHERE NEAR THE VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS

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Karn gave him instruction, but Taku had no foundation to build from. He told him to concentrate, but the world had gone insane around him. Darkness wailed and screamed in his ears, destroying any attempt he made at focus. With a grunt of effort and frustration, Taku heaved.

He felt the pangs of immense effort as his muscles tore. Only in the past three months had he began training as a Jedi. Before that, he knew nothing of the Force. Takui confronted his own weakness, he felt himself failing.

Size does not matter. There is only the Force.

He could not comprehend something that seemed so simple to the Jedi Knight. Taku lacked the time to suddenly learn how to magically move things with his mind. He didn't have time to waste failing. The Padawan felt his body grow sluggish, heavier, struggling.

Pain intensified. Awareness dimmed. The world darkened, reddened as the blood rushed to his head.

"I... have... to... do... this!"

He dimly felt the presence of Knight Syndulla around the boulder, desperate for his aid. He could feel the Force itself flowing into the rock and around himself. Taku felt the flow of energy down through his arms, his fingers, and into the rock itself.

"Hhhhhhhrrraaaaaaaagh!"

His eyes knit shut, and Taku's body ignited inside. The heat of adrenaline raced through him and his blood pumped incredibly fast. In his palms, the boulder suddenly felt light.

Or, perhaps he felt light, and the boulder felt insignificant.

In that moment, Takui was fully aware of the Galaxy around him. Acutely aware, like he felt cosmically insignificant, and so too did the boulder. Karn hefted the obelisk mentally, and it rose up with their effort.

His body faltered. Taku felt his legs and arms sag. He let out a sound of pure agony. The rock gave.

"Ffuuuu-!!"

Perspiration covered his body, soaked through the armor. Every breath hurt. Though he could see nothing, he felt the man in front of him. They had made it.

In front of the Jedi Master, Taku hit the sand unconscious.

Karn Syndulla | Naero​

 

[Shaka Sunstar]

GALACTIC ALLIANCE
TEMPLE OF SACRIFICE
STRIKE TEAM WINDU
Armor | 2x Lightsaber

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The emerald lightning crackled through the air, crashing into the side of the altar that the Sith were using to focus their ritual. The sword that he hadn't noticed dissolved, as if erased from existence and a moment later the pedestal erupted in sporadic fashion due to his machinations. Rocks flew in every direction, and his hand snapped up, protecting his features as the world suddenly brightened. The sandstorm died down until it ended completely, spiraling winds and energy whirling around the Temple of Sacrifice and reaching up into the skies above the structure in the stone valley.

I failed. Whatever the ritual the Sith performed was, it had completed. He could sense that much. His attempt in putting an end to it too little, too late. The Sith Lord had ran distraction, and it paid off.

Lurching backwards, he retreated back into the direction of Oceiros Sunstrider . His right hand raising up again to the bomb they had left behind, the tunnel of energy that sucked up the Dark Side slamming against them. "Go!" He says, pointing in the direction of their bomb. Racing to it, he saw in the ground where the Sith Lord Arctus Silmar had delivered his strike of Sith Lightning to the roof, gouging it with his power. The integrity of the roof was weakened.

Shaka's failure may have rolled off of him, but Strike Team Windu still had an objective to complete. He reached into himself, searching, scrapping together what little power he had left. And in that moment, he felt the presence of Asmundr Varobalder . It was the golden sentinel, but he was more. He attached himself to Shaka, and Shaka welcomed him, he felt Oceiros beside him, felt and knew his thoughts once again. Through the connection he felt the rest of the Jedi.

But there were fewer, cut off from the meld. Whether they were dead or not, the Thyrsian knew not, but he pushed on all the same. He drew from the strength of the group again and the Force lurched into the weakened integrity of the roof, and channeled the Force into a telekinetic blast to breach the roof. When the roof collapsed open, he leapt back, twisting to the bomb as he worked at the console of the baradium bomb. It was activated, and he shoved it towards the edge of the hole and then he dragged and shoved the bomb into the hole.

The Padawan had been taking care of the bomb the journey to the Temple. It was likely that he still had the detonator. "You have the detonator?" The bomb wouldn't explode based off kinetic impact, so he wasn't concerned. In the midst of the conversation, the meld was cut again, but he barely registered it. In the skies, the evac shuttles as planned were heading for their sites.

"Go! When we're on the ship, punch it!"

Shaka held the rear. He wouldn't let the Sunstrider fall behind or be halted by the Sith. Attacks made on him would have to go through him as he stood between him and the Sith as their shuttle came in quick, low and fast. They'd have to jump, but with the power of the Force, the distance was short.

The meld was gone, but the pressure of the Dark Side had vanished too, focused into a central point to be absorbed and dolled out by its practitioners. He was alive, and he tapped into the helmet communicator with an eye command. "Ryv. The bomb is armed." He was calm, but there was an underlying presence of urgency.
ALLIES | NIO | NJO | Oceiros Sunstrider
ENEMIES | TSE | Chasianna | Arctus Silmar

 

[Lucien Dooku]

STAR SHOPPING

KAL'ORITSOR | DRIP

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The blade struck true, piercing through the downed Jedi with relative ease, and no struggle on his part. Blood was abundant, the wound not one of the superficial ones that he'd commonly received throughout the course of the war. For a moment there appeared to be a chuckle exiting his lips, yet muffled it was as a cough followed after, and blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. His eyes travelled up to the Sith, peering into the slits of his golden mask with an expression that almost seemed out of place, given the circumstances.

The smile had never faded, even as the blade cut through his flesh and delivered searing pain across his nerves. He felt a sense of euphoria, but not from the adrenaline that pumped through his body even then. Weightlessness enveloped his body, which drifted backwards towards the ground before his mind could even comprehend he was falling. Luc collapsed with a thud, blood oozing from multiple wounds, but pooling beneath him onto the sands of Korriban.

He felt blissful towards the end. Calm might've been a good way to describe the feeling too. He'd been fighting for so long that he couldn't remember the last time his body had felt so relaxed that his alertness had gone away entirely. It was almost as if he was dreaming, and unsurprisingly he wanted to do nothing more than close his eyes. Sleep, even, and take solace in the fact that his death had come with some form of peace.

There was humor in his acceptance of fate, given how much he'd fought it when he could stand on his own feet. He tried to laugh, only making himself lean his head to the side in order to violently cough out the blood pooling down his throat. It didn't take long after that for his pulse to fade, and for his already shallow breathing to cease entirely. Darkness filled his vision for a final time, although he wasn't sure if his eyes had closed or not. He felt warmth all around him, and although he attributed it to his blood, Luc could no longer feel a thing besides the warmth.

His voice was nonexistent-- only his thoughts seemed to remain. Death had clearly taken him, yet in the moments that followed his last, his thoughts seemed to be more vibrant than ever. Silence and warmth engulfed him, leaving him to ponder on his thoughts, racing over the events that had just occured, and contemplating what lead him to the end. He replayed the moment that Aurum struck him down about a dozen times. It felt odd seeing himself die, but there was no sadness within what was left of his lingering mind.

Just memories to replay and thoughts to accompany him through the void of darkness that consumed his whole. Whether it was the afterlife or purgatory didn't matter to him. The fates had long tried to control his existence, but to no avail did they ever succeed in guiding him down their chosen path. He'd fought the fates till the end with everything he had. If he was destined to wander the darkness forever then so be it, he thought.

Until the darkness made way to light.

The nothingness of the void seeemed to part midways as an energy filled the cold expanses of his environment, a piercing light in the distance beginning to close in on his location. Truthfully he wasn't sure if it was him getting closer or it, but by the time the thought had run its course, he was right there to its front. He was standing on his feet again. Luc could move his eyes, look down and see what appeared to be his body. Blood no longer covered his tattered clothes, and not a single wound could be seen along his chest. That feeling of peace resonated through him as his feet instinctually walked forwards, his eyes focused upon that tear in the void which beckoned him to step into the light.

He was just short of halfway from reaching the light when he spotted a silhouette to the side of the void. An incorporeal figure stood next to the light, smiling at the fallen Jedi in the same manner as the one who'd practically raised him as a kid. The same one he'd later have to kill on the sands of Korriban himself.

"Jo'ron." Luc came to a stop, his eyes focusing upon the ghost of the man he once knew. The taint of the dark no longer stained him, from what Luc could feel. He wasn't sure how he could feel it in the first place, but he was sure that the man's spirit was no longer fated to linger upon Korriban. He could feel his Master's emotions radiating off his form, transferring the feelings of forgiveness and acceptance across to his once Padawan. Luc hesitated for a moment, pausing just long enough to comprehend his master's intentions.

He nodded, and with it a final transfer of emotions were absorbed from the spirit. It was as much of a thank you from the ghost of the man he'd once thought of a father, as much as it was a goodbye. The phantom figure shifted away from Luc and faced the light head on. His master spared him one final glance before he stepped forwards, disappearing into the light, and leaving him on his own. He stepped forwards, ready to accept his fate once he followed his master into the light.

His gait came to a crawl just several feet away from the blinding tear of light. He could feel another presence, prompting his eyes to retreat from the light and look behind him. A familiar voice called out to him, his eyes focusing on another figure, this one far more corporeal than the one who appeared first. She was the last person he'd thought about as he bled out upon the red sands of Korriban. The one who he found worthy enough to dedicate the last of his strength to when the end was near.

Luc had no regrets going into the end, or at least that's what he thought. Her appearance brought forth the memories the two had created despite the chaos of their individual lives. The weight of the world rested upon their shoulders, yet through it all he'd managed to find some sort of happiness.

And it was all thanks to her.

"Auteme?"

His words were audible now, and with it he turned away from the light and took a step towards her.

“Lucien. Lucien, stay with me, okay? Now’s not the time.” She approached. Though her smile was as kind and encouraging as ever, the worry was still evident on her face. “I know you’re hurt. I’m sorry I left you alone, but- I’m here, okay? Just stay with me. Please. It’ll be alright.”

He looked on with emotionless eyes as she approached him, raising her voice and pleading with him to stay. The entire time he'd been in the darkness, Luc had never considered staying. That feeling of peace had also brought acceptance, and until her appearance, he had no reason to question it. But she did appear to him in the end, even as he did his best to force her to abandon him before the final blow was struck.

"I didn't care about the mission, y'know." He took a step backwards, facing the light. "I just didn't want you to see me die-- to carry that burden."

“I still don’t,” she said. “I want you to be safe. I want you to come home. Lucien, there’s… there’s so much left that I want us to do.

“Promise me. Promise me you’ll be alright, that we’ll push through.

“Together.”

The light waned behind him, the tear it created through the darkness beginning to lose its brilliance and close in upon itself. He looked onwards at the light, hesitating to continue forwards as her words pierced through his desire to step forwards and follow his master.

"I want to, Auteme." He turned around, facing the approaching woman. "This is the happiest i've ever been-- ever since meeting you."

Luc dipped his head. "But I failed."

“What did you fail at?” She tilted her head. “Lucien, you’re still alive, and if you’re happy, then it wasn’t a failure.

“I want to be happy with you. And I can’t do that if you’re gone. So I need you to stay; you need to want to stay, and then I can make everything alright.”

A smile returned to his lips. The warmth surrounding him seemed to shift inwards as she spoke, the light behind him growing even more thin. He looked back once more, contemplating taking those last few steps. It was a simple choice at first, but her appearance made him second guess the peace that he was offered.

"I--" He hesitated again. Luc moved away from the light, and as a result its brilliance had fully waned into a dim glow. "I don't want to leave you alone either."

The light faded away, consuming the two in the same darkness that had been present before the light's arrival. Nothing remained but them. His chance to accept the peace that was offered in they beyond had passed.

He reached out to Auteme, smiling softly as the gap between them ceased to exist. "I'll come back."

She touched his hand. “Promise you’ll stay. As long as you can.”

"I promise." He replied, taking her hand into his own and pulling her into his arms. Though the light had retreated from the void, Luc remained at peace as she held her in his arms. If holding her in his arms were the final moment of his existence, then Luc had once more felt at peace. But he wanted nothing more than to come back to her for good. To keep this promise, even if it wasn't real. He'd make the same promise all over again if he could escape the darkness that imprisoned him.

"Hm."

Brilliant radiance filled his vision once more, bouncing off every corner of the darkness that was his home. It blinded him with its glaring presence, erasing the sight of the woman in his arms, even as he could still feel her presence pressed against him. He closed his eyes shut, accepting what fate had planned for him in that moment. He'd attained peace, and with it his mind drifted away along with everything else around him.

And for a moment he thought it was all over.

But the sands of Korriban were a distinct feel beneath the returning feeling of his body, laid out as it was. The mixture of dried and fresh blood covering his body were a far-cry from the pristine condition he was in just moments before.

Death had not claimed him yet.

Luc still couldn't move a muscle, though. He was on death's door, only holding on through the will of defiance that drove him to stay awake-- to stay alive, for the sake of the promise he'd made. His consciousness slipped as the wounds on his body continued to leak onto the sands freely. He could feel Auteme's presence nearby. She was radiating brilliantly despite not being able to see her with his own two eyes. He spat out another mouthful of blood, smiling with foggy eyes angled towards the horizon.

He'd live-- for them both.


Auteme | Mato Kejak | Felix Astermo | Lark ​

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[Djorn Bline]

D I A M O N D _ S N A K E
GALACTIC ALLIANCE | NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
FELUCIA | KWAY TEOW OFFENSIVE
WOLFPACK | 71ST GHOST VIPERS
ARMOR | RIFLE | PISTOL | MELEE | GRENADES

VENGEANCE

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And no quarter was given.

Everyone within this centre would get some powder blown right at them. He didn’t care who they were, even if they were non-combatants. Hell, even the unfortunate janitor would be aimed at. The only fortunate ones to survive were those that weren’t in his path as he wasn’t sweeping the entire infrastructure. He had a job to do after all. Well, multiple jobs all at the same location.

<“Remember, no Sith-Imperial.”>

This was total war, and this was personal for him. There was no reasoning with these kinds of “Imperial”. All he saw were hollowed men and women all serving for a vision that was a great evil which would perverse the Galaxy for its own deviant pleasures. Djorn was steadfast in his vengeance towards the Sith, making him too extreme with his methods of warfare towards them. But who was to judge him? The Sith? The very same entity that laid waste to thousands upon thousands in the land they claimed through conquest? The same ones that brought unforgivable fire to the Braxant Run when they saw inevitable defeat wrought by mere mortal men besting their “indomitable” powers of the Dark Side? He was sure this planet suffered the same fate as most did when subjugated by the demented Sith. He had seen it and was once a pawn for them.

Not anymore.

"Impeccable timing, I'm enervating their comms system as we speak," "I'll, ah, meet you on the roof for extraction."

<“Good work, Usury. I’m sending five of my men to your position, they’ll be your security detail. I’ve got some unfinished business to take care of.”>

Aerarii’s capabilities never ceased to surprise him despite not formally meeting the man. With his task done, Wardaddy’s efforts should be efficient tenfold with an enemy with communications compromised.

He who cannot see cannot fight, and orders was how soldiers stayed alive.

Five men quickly selected by Djorn were sent out to retrieve the senator while the other two stayed with Snake. He needed to find a main hub from the centre that was connected with all Sith-Imperial communications on this world. Public and private, mostly the latter. The main hub would be the medium in order for communications to be delivered on-world and off-world with quality and and speed behind it. Everything here was monitored and broadcasted, like the brain of a human.

On the move he found one in a room after vacating the area with lethal force.

<“Watch for any intruders, this’ll take a few minutes.”> he ordered to his two Vipers as he pulled out a small droid from his utility belt; a droid designed to slice through any technical securities and download data from communication channels from the S-IMPS. Starting with the most recent receipts from its sender to their recipient. This kind of information vital for any espionage operative as was any information they could get their hands on. The smallest detail could even help tip the scales in their favor in this war.

A war worth fighting for with every fiber in his body.

A few minutes later the download of the data was complete.

Good.

Time to finish this operation of his cleanly.

<“Usury, this is Diamond Snake. What’s your status?”>

He hadn’t heard from the Senator on what was going on, nor his men had reached the man yet. Tithe had made it this far, surely there wouldn’t be any complications in his path?


ALLIES | GA | NIO | Loske Treicolt | Maynard Treicolt | Amon Vizsla | Aerarii Tithe | Top Bishop | Kir Dantos | Captain Raith |
ENEMIES | TSE | Eldaah Aderyn | Karn Zhakul | Lunafreya Solidor | Madelyn Lowe

 

[Bernard]

​

Objective: Get out alive
Foe: Darth Daiara
Jedi Strike Team Vos
\\ > Status Unknown
The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness

​

His heart was heavy. The lightsabre still burned its brilliant blue, but its glow had faded. The blade was at once too bright and too dull. The hilt he held barely registered beyond the weight and the cold sensation of its metal. Now two lightsabres were the same, that was true, but never did Bernard think the difference would be so drastic.

What he was holding wasn't the sacred weapon of his ancient order, but an over-glorified tool. It dug deep into the detonator's shell. Where it pierced the casing, the metal turned a bright yellow, melting and bubbling under the lightsabre's heat. Within the inner layers of the explosive's hull, it severed the central connector between the detonating mechanism and the timecode reset failsafe.

He saw the effects it had. He understood the implications from observation of where and at what angle the lightsabre had pierced the shell casing, but he could not feel the blade's effects. Not like he had before when he wielded his first sabre.

Maybe it was just a lack of familiarity?

"Have you ever stop to consider that maybe you're the evil ones? You don't see his attacking your schools and blowing up the students-- you know like maybe, just maybe-- we're just all trying to survive out here?"

The Sith's words brought back the Academy he was in, the extremely dangerous explosive in front of him, and all the Sith who stood between him and the X-Wing.

He switched the lightsabre off and glanced over to the Sith.

"Everything alright over there? Don't tell me you fucked it up," she asked.

"We're the evil ones? Did you already forget Muunilinst, Mygeeto, Scipio? All bathed in nuclear fire because your leaders didn't deign themselves to let those people be free of their tyranny?

"Or maybe you've already forgotten what the Sith did to the Jedi of the Core ten years ago?

"I was a youngling back then, you know," his fist tightened around the lightsabre, "I lost everyone, too," he continued, but his voice had lost its intensity

He glared at the Sith for several long heartbeats. She seemed distant. He could see her, but it took a moment to register that she was indeed right there, in front of him.

"We don't have time to get into that, not now. It can't be defused. Not in the amount of time we have left," he said.

"You need to go."

 

[Iasha Rha]

Alina Tremiru Kat Decoria​

As the ashen lady ascended from the urn, Iasha lowered her gaze. She was stricken with shame, knowing that she had not done this. In fact, for a second, she had tried to stop Alina. Her lip thinned as she took the floating disk and clutched it in her hand. She did not deserve it. She did not understand what had happened, but she knew she had not done her part to make it so.

“Wha-”

She looked at the breaking of the macabre statues around them and took a few steps back, then turned.

“Yeah, run. Run!”

Her sabre activated. Between the grasping roots and the hungry dead, she would take her chances with the roots. Her sabre sprung to life with a snap-hiss as she brought it around in two swift arcs. It sheared through the wall of roots that seemingly sought to seal them in. Sparks and embers flew and a high-pitched whine filled the air as she lashed out against the woodwork with fury.

Not good enough. I am not good enough-

Those words echoed in her mind as she brought her sabre down in another strike, causing the roots to finally retract from the door. She grabbed Alina’s shoulder and rushed through, hoping to pull the fellow acolyte with her.

The dried corpses stumbled out from their carbonite tombs and stumbled into the room. Their eyes were lit with pinpricks of a sickly green, and their voices were reduced to a hoarse wheeze. They seemed to only half remember how to move, but instead twisted and threw themselves forward with unnatural, reckless velocity. They were driven by hunger and hate: Wanting to feel warmth and humanity again, but knowing only how to seek it through animalistic violence. They were the most base version of the dark side, without control or intent.

Yet with all their passion, they had strength.

 

[Hal Vaiken]

NEW JEDI ORDER
OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY
SOMEWHERE NEAR THE VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS
ENGAGING: Darth Strosius

C L A S H _ O F _ D E S T I N Y

Tycho staggered back from the punch, his lip ripped open. Drops of blood falling and disappearing in the soil of this cursed world. He ignored it and continued to silently watch the masked man before him, the red blade back in the Sith's hands. Tycho stared at the mirror and it looked back. A faceless man fueled by rage hellbent on succumbing to the corruption of the Dark Side. As the meld began to fade, the Jedi's composed and neutral features wrinkled under the weight of the energy of the dark side. His finger twitched on the button of his saber.

I am a Jedi.

Exerting pure willpower against the urge, Tycho maintained serenity.

You would dare to reject the salvation of the Dark Side and offer me your hand? As if I need some sort of forgiveness?!"

"Not forgiveness." he said with empathy reaching out through his voice.

"Courage."​

GA | ALLIES | Kenth Ordo | Zark San Tekka | Karn Syndulla | Takui
TSE | ENEMIES | Dimitri Voltura

 

[Naero]

J E D I _ M A S T E R
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
STRIKE TEAM RHYSODE
EVACUATE

​

The stone slab shifted against his body as he rested. Bits of sand dislodged from the cavern and rained down on Naero's tired body. He pushed off the stone and struggled to stand, his movement shaky and uncertain. He managed to get back up to his feet as the slab ascended. The zabrak looked on in awe as the Jedi Padawan lifted and turned it aside. Takui looked as tired as he did. Pain emanated from all of them, the dark sapped their strength, but the light burned brighter. Naero smiled and opened his mouth to thank them, only for it to snap shut as Takui hit the ground at his feet. The Jedi Master blinked once.

"Well, this isn't good," Naero muttered as he limped closer and knelt beside the Padawan. He pressed two fingers against his neck and nodded. "He is still alive, thankfully. Knight Syndulla, you will have to carry him. I can barely keep myself on my feet."

Naero tucked his good arm beneath Takui and pulled him upward. The Master's body trembled from the exertion. He gritted his teeth as pain shot up his side, his cracked ribs not fond of the tension placed upon them. He worked through that pain without further complaint and ensured Takui wouldn't fall away as the trio hurried away. Satisfied with their work, Naero motioned for the Knight to follow him and limped towards the tomb's exit. While he wasn't familiar with the layout, he could feel those who descended to the planet. Each drop ship housed Jedi brave enough to face Korriban for their allies. Their courage shone bright, unsmothered by Korriban's insidious power.

As they turned a corner, Naero paused mid-step. Kenth appeared before the group a split-second later, out of breath, tired, but alive. The zabrak smiled at the bearded Padawan.

"It is good to see you have joined us, Ordo. I was worried your foray into the Dark would prohibit you from escaping beside us," Naero laid his good hand on Kenth's shoulder and squeezed. "If you wouldn't mind, Kenth, I require assistance as well."

He leaned against Kenth and limped onward.

Together, the group pushed through the tomb and withdrew from the dust-covered caverns. Korriban had since calmed, the sandstorm disappearing with the ritual's completion. In the storm's wake, darkness had gained an even tighter hold on the planet. A newly formed nexus pressed against them all, its oppressive nature enough to steal the breath from Naero's lungs as he first set foot outside the tomb. He continued forward nonetheless. The wounded Jedi Master would not be the reason his allies lost heart. Their bravery inspired him. Their resolve fueled him. They would survive this as one, a team in the face of a primal, loathed evil.

Naero fished into his belt and removed a small device. He clicked a button, and it emitted a red light in response.

"Personal beacon," he explained. "In our condition, I do not believe we can reach Rhysode's evac-point. We'll use this instead. The Sword said it was for emergencies, but I think this applies. Hold out only a few minutes longer, friends. Help is on the way."

Shortly thereafter, a shuttle descended from above them. Its sleek hull peaked through the valley's shadow as it grew closer to the group of battered Jedi. Naero silently thanked the Force for its arrival, his already shaky legs growing worse with each passing second. He limped towards the ship's ramp with Kenth's aid, a look cast over his shoulder to ensure Karn and Takui weren't far behind. Satisfied with what he saw, Naero stumbled up the ramp and collapsed in one of the numerous seats. Two Jedi raced forward and took Takui from Karn. They gently carried him off to a nearby room.

Naero looked back to Kenth and Karn, a tight smile on his thin lips.

"Good work. We will live to see another day through your bravery, not mine."

The ramp ascended and latched into place, closing the Jedi off from the outside nightmare. It shook as it took to the air. It gained speed as each second ticked by, its destination the stars above and Coruscant beyond. The Jedi Master closed his eyes as he fell into silent meditation.

ALLIES | NJO | NIO | Takui | Karn Syndulla | Kenth Ordo
ENEMIES | TSE | ELDER COMPACT

 

[Oceiros Sunstrider]

S U N S T R I D E R
TEMPLE OF SACRIFICE
STRIKE TEAM WINDU
Jedi Jumpsuit | Concord Brawn | Lightsaber

​

Leaving the Sith Lord to continue their fall to and through the roof, Oceiros looked back to Shaka, only to see what the other did. Their bond gone, scattered like dust to the wind, one did not need the force to decipher the Thyrisian’s mood. They’d failed in stopping the Sith, they’d failed in killing Arctus, the one thing the Jedi of Strike Team Windu could do now was ensure the destruction of the temple.

So caught in their battle against the light and dark the two had lost the true battle. For all he’d said to Jedi Master Thurion, for all the good he thought he’d done, Oceiros came to realize in these moments that he was just as lost as the other. He’d let his deep-seated hatred for the Jedi drive him, its what drove the entirety of the Sith and Imperial Knights that stood on Korriban. That hate was rife in the air, death as well.

"Go!"

The words of Shaka shook Oceiros back to reality, the Jedi turning on his heels running across the roof. The other having dropped the bomb down below to the shelf. Above evac, shuttles shot overhead through the storm to evac the Jedi. Oceiros had been trapped behind enemy lines on Bastion, Dantooine, and Dromund Kass. Yet none of those worlds matched the danger of any left behind on Korriban.

With the meld lost, Oceiros and Shaka had lost their perfect synchronization, no longer could Oceiros sense the other’s thoughts across their bond, but he could still hear the words of the other. Ahead of them, a shuttle pulled up to the edge of the roof, the doors open awaiting them.

Raising the detonator, the epicanthix eyed it and flipped the switch. Behind both him and Shaka an explosion that rocked the entirety of the roof and the temple down below. A blossom of flame and heat rose up, passing through the hole the explosive had been thrown down.

Fissured formed in the roof of the temple, and bit by bit behind the Jedi it began to fall away, tumbling to crush those within the temple beneath. With each passing second, the two ran the closer the crumbling roof came to both of them, their salvation sitting ahead.

Coming to the edge of the roof Oceiros leaped up and over followed by Shaka, landing in the dropships bay.

 

[Master Zoryu]

Dawn Bringer
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | STRIKE TEAM SHAN

​

The old Master was prepared for a first strike from the Sith woman who came to greet him on the hillside. His smile faded quickly as the rapid assault and he sidestepped her oncoming attack, meeting it mid-air with a woody rap from his staff. His robes twirled around him as he moved to parry and he jumped away deftly to retaliate. Zoryu was older, wiser, and more experienced, though the woman he faced now had an age that was masked by her many augmentations. ​

He had expected her to attack again, redied for the blow, but when she did not he allowed his attention to be drawn. In an attempt to shield the other Jedi of Strike Team Shan, Zoryu had put some distance between them, but even from his vantage, he could feel a shift on the battlefield. Before it happened, he felt a change in Asmundr Varobalder 's energy. The fight for Korriban was coming to a close and as one light began to shine, he could feel another fading.​

​

The tear that came to his eye did so without bidding. A shift in the Force so powerful that it moved Zoryu at his core. "Well, Dr. Dorniarn," he said, exhaling the words, "I wish I could stay here longer with you, but..." Over his shoulder, there was a growing light as the golden colossus became one with the Force. There were a handful of Jedi, padawan by the looks of them, hurrying up the hill to where Asmundr and the others had been, unwittingly into the firing line of Cara. He smacked the end of his staff on the ground again. "I think the time has come to take my leave," he said, noting the tremor of the stone beneath him.​

He had to cover the retreat of the padawans and distract the Sith long enough to ensure their safety... and his friend had given him just the tool he needed to do so. Zoryu's saber flew back to where it had been holstered and with both hands, the Master Jedi raised the lightstaff about his hand and brought it crashing into the brittle earth beneath their feet. As he did so a large stone obscuring Asmundr's homogenization split in two, allowing a blinding flash of light to issue forth.​

The light was so bright that even Zoryu shut his eyes against it. The ground beneath them quaked and fell away. Zoryu felt a knot in his stomach sink as the ground beneath his own feet give way and suddenly he was falling into the darkness that lay beneath Korriban.​

ALLIES | NJO | GA | Leon Gallo // Asmundr Varobalder // Jannik Morlandt
ENEMIES | TSE | THE DARKSIDE | Cara Dorniarn

 

[Darth Daiara]

Location: Korriban Sith Academy - Library
Writing With: Bernard

Spoiler: The Story

Objective: Sabotage
Foe: Darth Daiara
Jedi Strike Team Vos
\\> Zaavik Perl , Allyson Locke
Face to Face

The blip of a radar punctuated the silence periodically. The expected note, the same low-pitched pulse as it ever was, faded into the hangar control room's background like wallpaper. The officer leaning against the radar machine barely noticed the noise as it went off, time after time after time, again and again without fail.

"Hey Xin, catch the game last night?" Strata came in as the door opened and closed again with a quiet swoosh.

"Sure have," the officer perked up from his station.

"The Grotworms owned that arena. Showed those Shyracks what for, they did."

"Yeah, lost me a solid fifty credits is what they did," he sighed and turned back to the circular radar motion.

Strata's arrival and shift start usually marked a turning point for radar duty, though not today.

"You bet against them?" He continued as he took his seat. "What lazerbrain bets against the, and I quote, 'most winningest team in the entire history of Huttball'?"

"This one."

Xin let himself sink into his chair in an exaggeration of his defeat. As he did, however, the radar produced a loud whine, causing him to startle. His elbow slipped beyond the radar's table, and his face fell face-first into the console. The screen produced a loud crack that made both officers jump in their seats.

"Sithspit!" Xin yelled.

They spent the next few moments in silence, staring intently at the radar machine.

The whine was gone. The radar broke.

"Chit, chit, chit!" Xin cursed. He started flipping switches and hitting buttons all over the console. Strata leapt from his seat and knelt beside the machine. The two fumbled around it, scrambling to find a way to restore its functionality.

"What in Corellia's Seven hells was that?"

"I don't know! I don't care! I'm dead, man! Dead!"

The X-Wing's modified landing gear stuck to the rock better than ten metric tons of deadweight should allow. Its cockpit depressurized with a hiss. A relentless hail of sand knocked against the canopy. It gave way to the deafening howl of the raging storm as the canopy lifted, instantly covering the cockpit's inside with a thin layer of red dust.

Bernard didn't mind. Most of it wouldn't stick anyways. With one hand on the seatbelt, and the other firmly grabbing the cockpit's side, he positioned his feet against the edge of the control panel. He took a breath through the cloth wrapped over his lower face and pushed against it as hard as he could.

His legs kept him trapped against the stiff cushioning of the seat, pinning him in place. He let the breath out and tapped the seatbelt release. Immediately, gravity kicked in, but his body didn't budge from the seat.

He didn't linger in the sense of relief for long. Carefully, he grabbed the side of the cockpit with his now free hand and began to release the tension in his legs.

His grip was firm, and with cat's grace, he lowered himself out of the pilot's seat and beyond the cockpit's sides, until his body swayed in the wind outside the flipped X-Wing. Seeing the starfighter upside down, stuck to the underside of a cliff face, filled him with a certain amount of anxiety. He glanced away from it, towards its nose tip, then beyond at the cliff itself.

The orange-red stone became his first sight of the Sith's homeworld. He felt a small part of him deflate at that realization. In all his years of anticipation for this moment, he'd never envisioned the first glimpse of the Sith's ancestral homeworld like this. Throughout his youth, he assumed his first glimpse of Korriban would include a battlefield of some sort, not what amounted to a big rock.

It was cold too. The holos made Korriban look like a superheated desert, with a relentless sun that looked to break the planet's inhabitants more than it wanted to give warmth. But the wind flowed in frigid streams around his fingers, numbing them to the touch of the cockpit.

He took it as his cue to keep going.

His fingers, still burning from the frigid air, were slowly regaining some feeling as they held the access panel. Taking as much care as his numbed fingers allowed, he placed the cover back into its socket to seal away the entrance again.

It slid into place with a quiet click, and the wind's whine faded to a low hum. Sand finally stopped streaming into the tunnel. A cloud of it already cast dancing shadows in the dim, red glow of the ceiling lights as it settled on the floor. The target was somewhere at the end of this length of corridors.

Taking what might be his last moment of calm for a while, he shook loose all the dust from his clothes in the process and began to check his equipment. He'd been prudent enough to keep the charges hidden beneath his navy blue overcoat, along with his lightsabre. The matte black weapon wasn't the sabre he had built as a Padawan, that one had disappeared into the oceans of Brentaal, rather it had been the sabre of a long-dead ancestor.

But it was unlikely to see any use today, not that he had ever used it before. Instead, he unholstered two blasters. They were heavy models with low fire rates but packed a serious punch. He'd also gone to great lengths to mod both with a noise reduction field specifically for this mission.

Satisfied that his equipment was in order, he started down the corridors.

He dropped to the floor without causing a sound between two holo-bookshelves at the back of the library.

Bernard found himself on the second floor. The library hall was vast and filled to the brim with all kinds of forbidden texts and sacrilegious knowledge. This was his target, the future of the Sith.

With a quick push through the Force, he slid the panel over the access tunnel entrance above him and crouched against one of the massive shelves. He holstered one blaster and reached into his overcoat to pull one of the explosives free. The cylinder fit neatly into his palm, with a flat side that held a magnetic hook.

He regarded it for several moments. Up until this point he'd never actually held anything akin to it, especially not while deep inside hostile territory.

But he shook away that thought and went to work while the library was still empty.

The charges weren't very complicated to set up. The magnetic hook attached to a wall or shelf and a few taps activated the timer and primed the explosive. The timer ensured that, even in the event of his death or capture, the charges still went off. That inevitability was far from comforting.

Once the last one was in place and doubly checked it was time to proceed to the second part of his mission. For that, he would have to head to the central information storage.

He started backtracking to his point of entry but froze in place a moment later.

The library's doors swooshed open just below him, and the sound of footsteps echoed, along with voices.

"You just wait, when I become a Sith I'll show that traitor Irveric Tavlar what we can do!" The voice was too high-pitched to belong to one of the warriors or the security forces.

"And that coward Ryv Karis too!" Another of the group giggled.

Bernard didn't dare to move in the shadows above.

Location: Korriban Sith Academy - Library
Writing With: Bernard


The library's doors swooshed open, the Acolytes' footsteps echoing off the high ceilings as they walked in.

"You just wait, when I become a Sith I'll show that traitor Irveric Tavlar what we can do!" The voice was too high-pitched to belong to one of the warriors or the security forces.

"And that coward Ryv Karis too!" Another of the group giggled.

"Oh shut up, will you?" Aradia snapped. "Have you even faced a jedi? Have you seen what they can do?"

Wilic rolled his eyes, nudging the other. "Aradia thinks just because she was at Bastion she's the new shit."

The giggling girl scoffed. "Clearly not, since she lost the place."

A hiss slipped between her teeth, the elder ginger cutting in front of the younger two. "In case it has escaped you nerf-brains, I was not the only Acolyte at that fight. Look around, do you see any of them here?"

She cocked her chin, her brow raised in challenge. The implication registered between the two, their taunts withheld as they looked her over. She could feel their doubts. She had them too. How could a girl of her size and standing have been one of the few to survive the purge? She let their imaginations run wild, crossing her arms as she took charge. "We're not here to fight. We have our orders, secure the library and rejoin the others. The ship leaves in twenty. We need to get these artifacts out of here, or you'll be facing more than the wrath of a Jedi."

She turned on her heel, her hair snapping through the air as she started for the upper level.

"And for your information," she called over her shoulder. "I already am a Sith. Unlike you, I have a Master." The corner of her lips quirked up. She turned away, ascending to the second floor with quick, light steps.

"...Who's her Master again?"

"Hell if I know. You get the south side, I'l-"

Their voices faded out as the three split ways. Aradia's heart pumped rapidly in her chest, the thrill of telling them off diminishing as she was left to consider the implications of what was happening. The NIO were here again. To slaughter them all, no doubt. Anger rippled through her, their very existence enough to leave the once timid girl fuming as she walked briskly towards the back door.

She had not let go of what happened on Bastion. How could she? Her whole Academy had been purged. Countless faces, friends and foes alike, had been stripped from her life in the blink of an eye.

And for what? Why?

She would get that answer today. She would not be going on the evac ship with the others, not that there were many of those to even be had. Most of their numbers were out there-- fighting. But better the bottom of the barrel waste their energy escorting out the valuables while the useful placed themselves on the frontline. She would take her place among their ranks shortly. Anticipation drummed through her, her hands shak-

She stopped short, her thoughts freezing as she found herself faced with a crouching boy, hidden between two shelves.

"..."

Her ridged features snapped away from him, a nudge of intuition bringing her attention to the metal charged lodged an aisle away.

"Chit," she breathed. The darkside surged, her fingers clenching as strings of the force tried to yank the shelving down on top of him.

Objective: Sabotage the Academy
Foe: Darth Daiara
Jedi Strike Team Vos
\\ > Status Unknown
Silent Running (On Dangerous Ground)

Bernard stood pressed against the side of the bookcase with both blasters raised. His body was flat against the shelves, half-obscured by shadows in the dimness of the library's red and blue lights.

The library was supposed to be empty. Team Rhysode had deployed in advance of the others specifically to cause a sufficient distraction. Yet, there were Sith in the library now. The venerable Master Asmundr Varobalder 's influence had waned enough that Bernard couldn't sense the other Jedi team, and there wasn't enough time to reach out and confirm their fate. It appeared he was flying solo now, for the most part.

His fingers tightened their grip around the blasters' leather. He went into this mission expecting no backup. The risks were no different than when he was still a kid hiding from the Sith in the Core all those years ago, except this time, he was serving a cause greater than sheer survival.

The voices underneath him trailed off and grew quiet. The group of acolytes walked away. He noticed the detonator's red light still blinking at the edge of his vision. With any luck, the kids would be out of here before the detonators blew. He'd chosen the incendiary charges for structural damage, not anti-personnel use.

Bernard took a deep breath. This mission was for the good of the galaxy.

Right?

Footsteps to his side took him by surprise. The Sith had split up while he was too distracted to notice. He glanced to his right. Blue eyes stared back at him.

"Chit."

The bookcase toppled next to Bernard. Priceless tomes and holobooks slid free and clattered onto the floor. Bernard jumped back a pace, barely in time to avoid a particularly dense tome that hit the ground where he'd knelt. The bookcase crashed into another one that stood in the same row with enough momentum to send it toppling over as well. More books flew loose as both bookcases toppled, then another one, and another until the entire row was crashing. A cacophony of books and metal erupted and filled the library with chaos.

Bernard leapt towards the bookcase falling between him and the Sith. Before his feet touched the shelves, he brought his blasters together and flipped their mode levers against each other in a practised motion. With a quiet click, they locked into stun setting.

The edge of a lower shelf in the bookcase became the tightrope he needed to cross to reach the Sith. He teetered on it for a moment as the shelf finally came to a stop with a crash, but his Jedi senses kept him from slipping as it made impact.

The Sith had set the pace of their exchange by landing the first blow, forcing him on the defensive. If he didn't prevent her from following up, his chance to retaliate might pass him by for a while and time was a precious commodity now.

Without aiming his shots more precisely, he fired a salvo and started off bounding across the bookcase.

Blue rings of energy left each blaster in quick succession and shot ahead of him, towards the Sith. They were wide and hard to dodge at close distance, even for a trained Jedi, but a Lightsabre would make short work of them. Still, even the most skilled practitioner of Shien had difficulty retaliating when faced with an overwhelming volume of blasts.

Bernard intended to take advantage of that very fact. In particular, because the Sith had reached for the Force when she'd found him. This reaction, in a dangerous situation, implied a preference for it. For younger Jedi, and he hoped Sith too, this preference usually indicated a weakness with Lightsabre techniques.

If Bernard was lucky, and his hypothesis proved correct, he could eliminate the first Sith before the others arrived to help. The continuing collapse of bookcases was impossible to miss, and it was only a matter of time before he found himself facing three opponents.

Location: Korriban Sith Academy - Library
Writing With: Bernard

He was wrong.

Aradia squeaked, twirling to the side and raising a wave of discarded artifacts before her. The makeshift shield absorbed the shots, pages going up in flames as she found the chance to pull her-- A gasp cut through her, a burning impact sending left leg numb. She collapsed to a knee, the stunt bolt disabling the limb.

She pulled her borrowed saber, it's red length illuminating the dim space. The books dropped. She caught the last few bolts with the blade from her fixed position on the ground. Even compromised, the acolyte proved proficient with a blade. Kaalia Pavanos would accept nothing less.

There was no space for thoughts in the furious attack, both jedi and sith caught up in the sudden flurry. Footsteps flew wildly towards them, two leather claud teens surging forward to--

Aradia dropped her guard, waisting a precious moment to force push them back.

"Bomb. Go!"

The two scrambled for their footing, neither needing more than a hot moment to comprehend her words ... before leaving her where she laid. Aradia thought nothing of it, her attention turning back to the jedi who would level the place where he stood. A desperate sheen hit her eyes, her retaliation coming in the form of a telekinetic grip wrapping around his body. She tried to pin him where he stood, preventing an escape.

"Undo it," she demanded through her teeth, the concept of time weighing down on her.

Exactly how long did they have? Seconds?

​

Objective: Sabotage the Academy
Foe: Darth Daiara
Jedi Strike Team Vos
\\ > Status Unknown
Go!

​

There wasn't much of the shelf left when the Sith fell to one knee. One out of two dozen were far from great odds, but now that he managed to pierce the Sith's defences doing so again wouldn't be as hard.

Bernard kept pressing his advantage. Another volley of stun bolts lit up the chamber as he pulled the triggers in random patterns in an attempt to keep the Sith from settling into her combat rhythm.

The Sith answered the volley with her lightsabre. It ignited behind the shield of tomes before it fell apart. She slashed at the rings as they sped towards her, the blade's crimson hue shifting to purple whenever it cut apart blue bolts.

Bernard cursed under his breath. His deductive abilities did not measure up against an opponent who was his equal. He couldn't remember the last time he had faced another Force User over the recent few years. Worse yet, he barely had a few steps along the shelf left to decide on how to press his advantage.

Hurried footsteps rang out towards them. The Acolytes had finally caught up. Their arrival made Bernard's odds for a clean getaway plummet.

"Force-forsaken-," another curse escaped him and, for the briefest moment, he chided himself for having developed the habit of smearing the Force's sanctity so readily over his tenure with the Marshals.

The Sith seemed equally surprised about the acolytes' arrival. She had turned her attention away Bernard to warn the two newcomers, even going so far as to shove them with the Force, effectively nullifying her numbers advantage. It took Bernard by surprise. He had expected the three to jump at the chance of killing a live Jedi, especially here on Korriban. He was too short on time to dwell on the sudden contradiction, more importantly, too short on shelf-length. He would have to improvise. He hated improvising.

The prospect of advancing towards a sabre-wielding opponent with nothing but blasters made him nervous, but it was also his best opportunity to bring their fight to an expedient end. With his last few steps on the shelf's edge, he crouched low in preparation of another leap. Once he felt his boot bend on the shelf's end, he pushed off it as hard as he could.

Only to fly into what felt like a wall. Bernard's entire body was seized just after he had made it off the bookcase in a telekinetic grip. The sudden lack of control over his own body caused him to fly helplessly in a parabolic arc and right onto the floor. He tumbled over, and one of his blasters fell free from his hand. It slid alongside him on the durasteel floor until he crashed against metal guardrails, saving him from a steep drop down into a set of tables, but not his blaster.

"Undo it," the Sith demanded.

He scoffed.

The impact still had him shaken, and his opponent's power still bore down on him.

With a grunt, he concentrated on his own abilities enough to reestablish the protective Force barrier around his body, at least in part. Enough to force his blaster up and train it at the Sith. The barrel trembled in his hand as he glared at the Sith on the other side of it.

"Why should I?" He shot back. The words didn't come easy against the telekinetic grip.

Location: Korriban Sith Academy - Library
Writing With: Bernard

Her situration was precarious-- wounded and trapped before a bomb that would go off at any moment, Aradia was aware she was staring down her death.

The presence of the darkside bore down on her, it's whispers gaining fervor as it begged for her to dig in. Use me. We can save them all. Korriban, of all places, brought clarity to its voice inside her. It would be so easy to surrender herself to it. She had done it before.

But she didn't want to be that monster again.

Below them, doors slammed, telling Aradia that her sacrifice might very well have given her peers a change to live. Maybe... just maybe-- they'd have enough time to warn the others too. That was a step further than she had done for the last Academy. And she didn't need the power to do it.

Kill him.

Her extended hand shook, the grip on his core tightening as the confliction twisted across her features.

'Undo it.'

"Why should I?" He rebuttled

"Oh hell, I don't know, because you'll murder everyone?" She scoffed angrily, the grip on him tightening. For a moment it constricted, threatening to crush ribs and squeeze the life from his body. It felt good, not unlike-

The dead solider's faces flashed through her.

She flinched, the hold on him releasing. The darkside burned through her, pulsing and aching for its release. She found herself bent over, clawing at the ground for control. "Please," She uttered, desperation hitting her tone. "This isn't right."

Kill him.
I need him.
You have me.
Do I?

A Sith controls the dark side, a slave is controlled by it. - Kaalia Pavanos ​

Every tick of the clock backed her further into a corner, but she wasn't ready to give into it yet. She forced herself to disconnect from the energy pulsing through her fingers, the girl claiming autonomy over herself once again. This would be done on her own terms.

Flames erupted over the exit, the bitter heat blocking his path out. She looked up, hair sticking to sweat as she panted on the floor. "You will undo it. Or you will die here too."

"A bunch of kids lost to war," she retorted bitterly. "If that's who you want to go down as."

​

Objective: Get out alive
Foe: Darth Daiara
Jedi Strike Team Vos
\\ > Status Unknown
In the Flame

"Oh hell, I don't know, because you'll murder everyone?"

Bernard opened his mouth to retort, but just then the telekinetic grip breached the last defences he had.

His muscles strained and spasmed as his body contorted. The blaster in his hand twisted out from between his fingers and clattered to the floor. His bones threatened to shatter and organs to burst. For a brief moment, he could hear his heartbeat louder than anything else, the organ hammering in his chest in a desperate attempt to save the rest of the body. Then it let up, as quickly as it came.

A burst of adrenaline pushed out his panic. Dazed, he gasped for air, coughing and wheezing, as though he had just been pulled from a river. He managed a curse in between the coughing, and slowly composed himself enough to remind himself of the danger opposite him.

Contrary to what he expected, the Sith had fallen over, voicing words that never reached him. She seemed shaken, but by what Bernard couldn't tell. One of the other acolytes must have sabotaged her moment of triumph to claim glory for himself. Sith were infamous for their betrayals, but that meant-

His hand gripped the missing blaster tightly. The fingers curled into a fist, trapping only empty air.

A sudden jolt shot up his spine as the situation sank in. He kicked himself away, shoving his back into the railing behind him. Every bone in his body protested as he pushed himself up to his feet against the metal bars, breathing heavily from the exertion.

Fire suddenly burst from nothing at the exit.

He shot a concerned glance towards the detonators.

They still blinked in their unchanging rhythm. Something else had caused the flames.

"You will undo it. Or you will die here too. A bunch of kids lost to war, if that's who you want to go down as."

Several moments passed between them. Bernard opened his mouth to respond but closed it again a second later.

He wanted to feel a lot of emotions. There was a Sith right before him, threatening his life. An avatar of the darkness he stood against with every fibre of his being. He wanted to hate her. To feel that righteous anger that had driven him all his life. To wield it, and destroy the darkness for the light.

How often had he imagined himself face to face with a Sith, ready to slay them without hesitation? For Force's sake, he'd already struck down a Jedi under suspicion of dark side corruption. He'd wielded righteous fury like a blade unwavering in its purpose then. But now that he stared down someone overtly, unapologetically Sith he was struck with indecision. Why couldn't he just do what he'd always wanted to?

But the Sith before him was nothing like the Sith he knew. He wanted to believe that the compassion she displayed was only a facade. That she did not really care for anyone's life but her own. Yet, she didn't run, nor had she killed him. He wanted to believe it was only a deception, created to some nefarious end, but he could sense that her concern for other people appeared genuine. His Marshal's gut feeling pointed the same way. He knew, too, that the detonators would kill many, if not in the initial blast, then from the fires that would spread. When he'd come here he had believed that to be for the best, but now, faced with other Sith barely older than him, with many more like her all over the academy. Whatever fate had brought them here, he couldn't justify taking their lives without at least giving them a chance. That was the way of the Jedi, wasn't it? Arbiters of justice, not executioners, right?

"Sith are supposed to be selfish, you know," he said with the barest smirk.

He brought his glove up to push some strands from his face.

"Had to be the one Sith who's not evil to the core, eh?"

He sighed and produced the matte black lightsabre from his coat, slowly. He held it up for the Sith's approval.

"I'll need this to do as you ask, so don't get any ideas about doing any of," he circled his finger vaguely in the Sith's direction as he coughed heavily, "that, again."

Slowly, he limped towards the blinking detonator, making sure to give a wide berth to the Sith. The casing itself needed to be removed delicately, else the mechanism inside might be damaged and blow. With a steadying breath, he lined up the lightsabre with the detonator. His hands trembled. This was not how he expected to use the ancestral blade for the first time.

He reached out to the Force to centre himself. Its invisible energy coursed through his entire body and he felt like he'd taken a plunge into a bacta tank. His muscles eased their tensions, washing away alongside the dull ache in his bones. Korriban's discordant chaos silenced the cacophony within his mind as the Force sang its soothing melody. Its song became his anchor.

His finger pushed on the activation switch, on the verge of bringing the sabre to life. The switch gave him more resistance than he thought it would. It seemed to be stuck. He pushed harder until he pressed on it with all the strength his hands could muster.

Then it clicked and the sabre roared to life with its cyan glow.

But the song was gone.

Location: Korriban Sith Academy - Library
Writing With: Bernard

"Sith are supposed to be selfish, you know," he said with the barest smirk.

He brought his glove up to push some strands from his face.

"Had to be the one Sith who's not evil to the core, eh?"

Aradia's lips caught in a snarl. "Is that what you really think of us?" Don't get her wrong, she knew the type he spoke of. She had met them. But someone so twisted was rare in her experience. Less common even than the cruel slave masters that had made up her childhood.

There was evil everywhere in the galaxy. She found it shallow to pin that on her people as a whole. Anything to justify this hate war of theirs.

Was she the naive one, or him?

HIs sword hilt reflected the light of the fire, its reflection refracting in her wary gaze. Her saber jumped back into her palm, held tightly pointed at the ground. They might have had a truce, but she wasn't stupid. She let him move towards the bomb unmolested. Truth be told she wasn't sure she could replicate that if she tried. The power of this world brushed heavily against her mind, imploring her to sink in. She ignored its song, focusing on him instead.

"Have you ever stop to consider that maybe you're the evil ones? You don't see his attacking your schools and blowing up the students-- you know like maybe, just maybe-- we're just all trying to survive out here?" She wasn't doing much to help him concentrate, but she rattled on regardless.

The words had boiled in her for so long, it felt good to level her case to her tormentor.

A part of her still be believed she could make them understand.

A weird ripple echoed through the force, leaving her to freeze. The purple light pierced the detonator panel, sparks flying out around him. She braced at once the explosion, but it's lethal force never came. She waited with baited breath for something to happen. ... Then leaned forward, straining to catch sight of the boy's face.

"Everything alright over there?"

The indicator light faltered.... then kept blinking. The fried panel was beyond amends. The hair on her arms slowly rose, a bad feeling stirring through her.

"Don't tell me you fucked it up," she whispered, possessed by the sudden, fervent need to piss.

​

Objective: Get out alive
Foe: Darth Daiara
Jedi Strike Team Vos
\\ > Status Unknown
The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness

​

His heart was heavy. The lightsabre still burned its brilliant blue, but its glow had faded. The blade was at once too bright and too dull. The hilt he held barely registered beyond the weight and the cold sensation of its metal. Now two lightsabres were the same, that was true, but never did Bernard think the difference would be so drastic.

What he was holding wasn't the sacred weapon of his ancient order, but an over-glorified tool. It dug deep into the detonator's shell. Where it pierced the casing, the metal turned a bright yellow, melting and bubbling under the lightsabre's heat. Within the inner layers of the explosive's hull, it severed the central connector between the detonating mechanism and the timecode reset failsafe.

He saw the effects it had. He understood the implications from observation of where and at what angle the lightsabre had pierced the shell casing, but he could not feel the blade's effects. Not like he had before when he wielded his first sabre.

Maybe it was just a lack of familiarity?

"Have you ever stop to consider that maybe you're the evil ones? You don't see his attacking your schools and blowing up the students-- you know like maybe, just maybe-- we're just all trying to survive out here?"

The Sith's words brought back the Academy he was in, the extremely dangerous explosive in front of him, and all the Sith who stood between him and the X-Wing.

He switched the lightsabre off and glanced over to the Sith.

"Everything alright over there? Don't tell me you fucked it up," she asked.

"We're the evil ones? Did you already forget Muunilinst, Mygeeto, Scipio? All bathed in nuclear fire because your leaders didn't deign themselves to let those people be free of their tyranny?

"Or maybe you've already forgotten what the Sith did to the Jedi of the Core ten years ago?

"I was a youngling back then, you know," his fist tightened around the lightsabre, "I lost everyone, too," he continued, but his voice had lost its intensity

He glared at the Sith for several long heartbeats. She seemed distant. He could see her, but it took a moment to register that she was indeed right there, in front of him.

"We don't have time to get into that, not now. It can't be defused. Not in the amount of time we have left," he said.

"You need to go."

"We don't have time to get into that, not now. It can't be defused. Not in the amount of time we have left," he said.

"You need to go."

The color drained from her face, the flames around the doors faltering.

"What."

Her breath caught in rapid puffs, the girl unable to intake and bring a fresh wave of oxygen to her brain. For a flickering moment she suspected he had done this all on purpose and she had been the fool that played into the plan. Her jolting thoughts ruled out the paranoia as quick as it came. He was sending her away.

He could have kept fighting her.

Honestly, she wasn't sure she could have handled him if he did. Her stunned side weighed heavily on her thoughts. But it all changed nothing. He had made a vital mistake.

"What have you done?" she uttered, her voice containing the fiery judgement of a thousand suns. She tried to stand. There was no dignity in the desperate scramble, nor the effort it took to pull her half-stunned body onto one leg. If there was no time to defuse it, then there was no time for her crawl out. She held herself up by the ends of a tipped over bookcase, her hair sticking to her face. The burning light of the fire was all that lit up the space between them. It caught her features sharply, exasperating her horror.

"You've condemned everyone!"

The situation raced through her, her panic building. None of it mattered now. Not the war, nor the murders, nor the injustices she sought to end. Just like Bastion, the noise faded away.

The only thing that mattered was surviving.

The fire over the doors snuffed out. For a moment there was only his sword and her ragged breath.

The darkside surged through her, so poignant she could only gasp. She felt electrified. Energy shot through her palms, outstretched. It'd blow him back, its dark mass wrapping wildly around the bomb. The energy coiled and hissed and slithered, condensing into a tight ball that just might ... maybe... contain this one blast.

It was a demand that left the Acolyte gasping, her body arching and bowing under the power that overwhelmed her . She found herself on her knees, tears streaming unfelt down her face.

"Please stop."

But it wouldn't. Despite her denial, it had its hold. She couldn't fail. She was failing.

"I can't do them all," she protested, though who she was speaking to anymore remained unstated.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Alina stayed pretty close to Iasha Rha as they ran from the burial room. Back to the roots. Not wanting to crowd the Twi'lek she looked back to where they'd come from. Iasha could cut those roots down. If either of them could it'd be her. Instead the human acolyte looked around. Was there something here she could use? Yes! The statues. The ones that didn't turn into the undead. Her saber snapped to life as she ripped through the base of the statues. To make them fall.

She'd taken a couple steps back when Iasha's grip on her shoulder formed. The Twi'lek did it. She nodded once as she rushed into the next room alongside her fellow, saber swiping through the roots as they tried to get close. Behind them she could already hear the scrambling and cracking of these husks trying to get past the obstacle she'd made. It wouldn't take long for them to catch up at this rate. And they had to be careful trying to get through this room or the roots would overwhelm them.

It was a loose loose situation.

Alina bit her lip as she swiped through another of the roots that was trying to curl up her leg. The end writhed and dried out before falling away from her. These things were obsessed with the Force.

That's it!

"Keep running! I've got an idea!" A terrible, stupid idea, but an idea none the less. Like before. When she faced that.. Thing. Alina shut off her saber and instead focused on what she'd done before. Her anger. Hate. Her connection to the Force. The vines started wrapping up around her, but she refused to focus on them. She was going to get Iasha out of here. Disruptive. Unstable.

Broken.

That's what her mother had called it. A broken connection to the Force that had no business being within the Tremiru household. She was an embarrassment. But her mother was wrong. Wrong. Around her the vines began to withered and died. First the ones on her body, then slowly spreading out in a noticeable bubble. Alina broke their connection to the Force, how they were staying alive. Connected. But she infected them with her connection.

She moved forward to the broken door they'd gone over and stood there. It would be enough. "Run! And don't stop!" How long could she even keep this up? It was new, and exhausting. But, well. As she turned back to where the zombies would be coming from, she didn't feel exhausted. This sort of anti force bubble she had kept the vines away. And as the undead husks rushed for her, the same would happen to them. The red glow in their light faded as they crossed the line and they fell still. Was it permanent?

Alina didn't know. All she knew was she needed to keep this up until she was sure her fellow was out of the cave. Then she could stop. A weak smile formed as the exhaustion started to set in. Just a bit longer. Then Iasha would be safe.

 

[Kenth Ordo]

T H E _ E N D _ O F _ A L L _ T H I N G S
NEW JEDI ORDER
OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY | POST VIII
EQUIPMENT: LIGHTSABERS | BATTLE ARMOUR
VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS

Kenth was glad to see that Takui and Karn Syndulla were alive in one piece, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he caught his breath. After his little stint with the Dark Side of the Force, he was worried that another Sith had found the duo and terrorized them as his previous opponent had.

Walking up to Karn, he presented the man's lightsaber back to him with a cheeky grin, "Next time, I'll try to ask in advance." He said sheepishly, turning to face Naero as the zabrak Jedi Master addressed him.

He gave another smile, this one rueful, as he still felt ashamed that he was so easily influenced by the spirits of Korriban. However, he did not permit himself to dwell on that as they were still on the Sith homeworld, bruised and battered from their battles with the forces of evil.

With his deactivated lightsaber in one hand, he used the other to help support the wounded Master as they made their escape, zealously watching for any Sith Lords that may try to sneak up on them as they waited for their ride off this blasted rock.

Once the ship had arrived and he had escorted the man up the ramp, the other Padawan receiving the necessary medical attention, he looked back upon the barren landscape of Korriban as the hatch closed with a hydraulic hiss.

His eyes were yellow before he blinked and they were back to their normal grey-blue.

We're still here, young Jedi...

 

[Zaavik Perl]

S H A D O W
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
VOS // Allyson Locke
ADVERSARIES // Gnox the Insatiable | Vaylin | Maple Harte
KORRIBAN // SITH ACADEMY

[ NEVER FADE AWAY ]
​

The Sith Lord's flail heads slammed against the Padawan's ribs. Pain spiked beyond what he thought possible as the poison slithered in and his ribs cracked beneath the force of the blow. The impact took him off his feet, forcing him to tumble backwards, folding in on himself before stopping stomach-side down. His hands pressed flat against the floor, lifting him upwards in further defiance of the unthinkable sensations that had taken over.

"Use this pain and you may very well save your master, boy! Or perish alongside her!"​

"ZAAVIK RUN,"​

Zaavik staggered in place. A scowl mixed with a tight wince as anger and painful lamentation fought for his expression. His knees bent slightly, bringing him to a braced stance where he could catch his balance. Muscles convulsed from pain along with something else. Something that coursed down from his shoulders and to the tips of his fingers. Hatred. "No," he mumbled to himself. Yes, something else inside of him said.

His arms snapped up in front of him, his hands open and fingertips extended outward. The hatred became white-hot energy that sparked out from his fingertips, cutting jaggedly through the air and splitting toward every assailant. His body twitched, tips of hairs singed, and muscles tightened as he lacked full control of the voltage that now rebuked his own body.

The force of this eruption pushed him back a few feet, causing him to stumble around and fight for control of the stream of dark energy. A malicious smile began to creep across his face before it was washed away with a sudden look of astonishing remorse. He groaned loudly, closing his hand forcefully and staunching the flow of lighting. He convulsed and seized in place as he held it all in. "No! I- I won't-" his words were cut off my convulsions and heavy breathing. "I'll never- Your- You- ...fuck."

Zaavik's eyelids fluttered as his eyes began to roll towards the back of his skull. His knees buckled and his consciousness slipped from him. With a thud, the padawan fell face-first to the floor. Out.

 

[Asmundr Varobalder]

PROSPERITY’S PROTECTOR | THERE IS NO CHAOS, THERE IS HARMONY
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | STRIKE TEAM SHAN
CHAMPIONS

Squadrons deployed across Korriban’s surface. Armoured Defense Force troopers and a second wave of Jedi, though the numbers of Fore users was a minority. They spoke loudly to one another over their comms, coordinating across Landing Zones. Statuses were updated within minute intervals, relaying success, confusion or failure. Everyone sent back down to the surface had one job: Get in, get the Jedi, get out. And they all knew the cruicialty of their success. If they failed to retrieve the Jedi here, the premiere attack of The Alliance against The Sith Empire would be crippled. Their numbers would wane and morale would be unboostable.

Consequently, nobody had to tell them to be alert and ferocious as they made their way to each zone.

Alongside Katarine, a squadron of six poured to their location. After a moment of being struck in awe, they’d had to adjust their visors several times over to mitigate the blinding effect of Master Zoryu . They’d have to ask about it later, for now, it looked like two of the strike team’s members were down.

<Hey, son, you okay?> A trooper clad in blue-and-white painted armour crouched next to Leon, activating a scan of his vitals and keeping a calm tone while others positioned themselves either near Asmundr or standing guard. It seemed the one Jedi, Master Morlandt, was able enough to make it back alongside them on his own two feet.

Without waiting for much more of a response from the Padawan, the sergeant reached down to loop Leon’s arm over his shoulders. Rising with the boy in tow, he flexed his knees and jerked his head back in the direction of the shuttle.

Burdened by the sheer weight of Asmundr, two troopers (closely followed by a third) shouldered his armpits around them, dragging The Warden away from the scene and up the awaiting ramp. Grumbling about the mass the entire time.

<Captain, something’s up with one of the assets. Master Zoryu isn't responding to our hails.>

The captain, acting as a crutch for Leon, craned his neck to glimpse backward...only to see the planet swallow the Jedi alive. <Hey, what’s –– Master Zoryu! Sir!>

Shock tore through the troopers who were moving about the hull, situating the Padawan and fallen master. The Sacrifice was confounding and great. Silence spread through the watchful crew until the captain decisively broke it again, pounding the side of his fist once-twice against the wall.

<Alright pilot, let’s not waste a clean getaway.>

As the ramp sealed and eclipsed those inside once more in artificial light and the omnipresent ship vibration from the thrum of the engines, one of the troopers turned to Katarine Ryiah <You ever see anything like that before? So powerful?>

Muted appreciation took claim over the crew as they ascended back to Korriban’s atmosphere, and hit the coordinates home.

BATTLMELD: REDUCED // DISABLED​

ALLIES | NJO | GA | Katarine Ryiah
STRIKE TEAM SHAN: Leon Gallo // Jannik Morlandt // Master Zoryu
ENEMIES | TSE | THE DARKSIDE

 

[Auteme]

Lucien Dooku Felix Astermo Mato Kejak Lark ​

The light dimmed. The gilded Sith spoke, but her focus was on Lucien. He was still, bloodied; on his knees in the sand staring at a different light than hers. Tears filled her eyes. Seconds passed.

He coughed.

She smiled.

Light was nothing without life.

She felt his embrace, and she knew she needed to return it. The Light burst from her again -- this one, far from as burning as the last. It reached out to Lucien and enveloped him in warmth and comfort. The bleeding stopped; her embrace anchoring him to the world.

To her.

Again she grew brighter to force back the darkness and give them space. She ran to Lucien, helping him up onto his feet. "Mato!" She called. "We need to leave!"

Her light grew brighter again, attempting to force away the Sith that Mato was engaged with. She moved with Lucien to the mouth of the valley where their extraction point was.

"We're alright. Everything's alright," she said. Each step brought them closer to the end. Their shuttle pushed the sand below it as it settled into its landing. She kept going forward. To the mouth. Up the ramp. Into the seat where she could collapse.

"Lucien," she mumbled, the light fleeing her body. "We're alright."

When Mato arrived the ramp rose and the ship took off. She held onto Lucien, hoping in silence that he'd keep his promise forever.