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



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NEW JEDI ORDER
OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY
EQUIPMENT: LIGHTSABER | BATTLE ARMOUR
SOMEWHERE NEAR THE VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS
ENGAGING: Darth Strosius Darth Strosius

Strike Team Rhysode was a colorful bunch - you have a 23 year old padawan looking like he was 40 screaming at the top of his lungs as he dove his bike at the heart of the Sith. You have a twi'lek trying to find peace in the midst of all the commotion and sprawling darkness and then you have a pants-only Jedi Knight ready to take on a dragon and the whole Sith Empire if he had to. Rhysode reminded Tycho more of his old pirate crew rather than anything else.

Nonetheless, someone had to take the fight to the Sith.

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

And for too long they had done nothing.

No more.

His eyes fell upon a red blade snap-hiss to life (Alisteri). Tycho swung the bike towards the Sith and increased the throttle to its maximum.

"Have at it, scumbag!" the Jedi flung himself off the bike tumbling down the ground as a sack of potatoes, while the bike continued on its collision course with the Sith.

If they were to succeed today, Rhysode had to take on the heat.

GA | ALLIES | Kenth Ordo Kenth Ordo | Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka | Karn Syndulla Karn Syndulla | Aramis Sunstrider
TSE | ENEMIES | Darth Strosius Darth Strosius | Dimitri Voltura
 
He saw Thyferra burn.

Aboard the bridge of a Galactic Alliance star defender, Zark helplessly watches an entire world on fire. They were too late. He tries to remind himself this is another deception. Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex and his Empire scoured the Inner Rim stronghold long ago and a hundred other worlds since. Still the anger feels real. He hears screaming and faintly recognizes its his own.

"Enough."

He was back on Korriban.

"Is that you Dark Lord?" the captured Jedi moaned, "So nice of you to visit."

"They are here," the voice ignores him, "Prepare this wretched thing for the ritual."

The dim lighting in his tomb flickers. It may have been an ancient Sith temple but its denizens relied on modern systems to power their technology. Systems currently under constant assault by a merciless sandstorm's gale force winds. His mind slowly begins to clear and on instinct Zark reaches out.

His presence erupts the Force like a flare across the night sky. Maelstrom energies swirl off the temple's potent darkside nexus clouding his farsight and rendering him near powerless but the Jedi Master is illuminated all the more starkly by his proximity to the great tempest.


"That was a mistake."


Unnatural lightning coursed through his body sending Zark into convulsions of more pain.

"Yes," he smiled weakly, "It was."

But not his mistake.

 
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Shaka Sunstar

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

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Sunstrider disappeared into the sandstorm again.

His descent slowed dramatically, the added weight of the second Jedi lifted as he fell after the bomb. He did not see the Padawan any longer, but their meld kept them linked. When he had found the bomb tumbling through the air, Shaka knew it, and he dove downwards too, jet boots propelling him downwards as a hand shot out in the direction of Oceiros.

The Force coalesced around the Padawan once he had secured the bomb.

Forty-Five feet.

He tugged back on his presence. Like a quickly uncoiled rope, the slack of their bond was abruptly snatched and yanked and slowed as Shaka's form rolled in the air, feet to the ground and jet propelled boots burning in the sandy coloured darkness. He couldn't see the roof, but he knew he drew closer to Ryv and Starchaser. The Force fastened tighter around the Padawan. The telekinetic presence that pulled on him suddenly grasping him as it brought halt to his motion instantly.

Shaka hit the roof of the Temple a moment later, boots sputtering out as he cut off the propulsion.

Lowering his hand, the last few feet his partner had to travel brought him down slowly and safely to the roof.

"Another happy landing."

He gave a look around the roof. He didn't need to give further instructions.

They both knew they had to get deeper into the Temple to ensure the Sith and their constructs inside were destroyed. Detonation from the roof could vaporize much of the Temple, but there was no telling how deep the structure went. Moving towards the Padawan and the bomb, he made a move to reach for it before halting. "Do you feel that?" He had never been an empath. His own emotions ran strong, he could feel when individuals were vulnerable, sensed death when it happened directly in front of him. For trained Force users, it was essentially the baseline.

He had met the likes of Gianna Aegis Gianna Aegis , a powerful empath. He had felt when she was distraught, the pain and fear she was going through on Nar Kreeta after the battle. The foreboding he felt then, it was pervasive.

But this was something else entirely.

The Dark Side of the Force was strong here, its stench invaded his senses, even through the sanctity and strength of the meld, through the imbuement of the light side his armour was birthed from, he could feel the darkness around them. Pressing on them with its malevolent presence, through the Force, it felt as if there were tens of thousands, if not innumerable hostile eyes on them.

Life was being taken here.

It was being taken... Everywhere.

"Let's go."

There was urgency in his voice. Whatever presence was being manifested here... They'd have to destroy it... Or at least the place where it was strongest.

ALLIES | NIO | NJO | Ryv Ryv | Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser | Oceiros Sunstrider Oceiros Sunstrider
ENEMIES | TSE | Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex | Other Space Kaiden Other Space Kaiden
DIRECTLY ENGAGING: Arctus Silmar Arctus Silmar | (( Chasianna Chasianna ))
 



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Location: Korriban Sith Academy - Library
Writing With: Bernard Bernard

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Objective: Sabotage
Foe: Darth Daiara Darth Daiara

Jedi Strike Team Vos
Face to Face
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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!"


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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.


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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.


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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 Ryv Karis too!" Another of the group giggled.

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


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 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.

 
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Seydou of Thyrsus

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WOLFPACK | GHOST VIPERS
FELUCIA | KWAY TEOW OFFENSIVE

S P A N I S H _ D E A T H _ S O N G

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The Mandalorian popped out of the thick bushes back into the camp of the 104th. He slid his vibrodagger back into its sheath and scanned the area. Previously tired and exhausted from the month-long campaign of the lethal jungles of Felucia, the Wolfpack now seemed more ready than ever to bring an end to Sith rule of the planet. The Alliance and the locals twitched eagerly as the end of this long stretch was finally in sight.

Amon kept his outward composure. But within the flames of retribution burned more intense with each passing minute. He was on Muunlinst, on Dubrillion and on Bastion. He shed the blood of Sith and he saw the blood of his own be shed. No cost was too high to pay to enact justice upon the Sith for their desecration of Mandalore. No cost. The Mandalorian would sacrifice everything to see the galaxy rid off the scourge.

And here they were on the precipice to cure Felucia of it.

"Treicolt, the 104th are ready." he reported to the Jedi General. "Give the order."

<"Let's end this once and for all.">


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ALLIES | GA | NIO | Maynard Treicolt Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt | Djorn Bline Djorn Bline
ENEMIES | TSE | Eldaah Aderyn Eldaah Aderyn
 
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LOCATION: Korriban, Sith Academy
EQUIPMENT: Meditation Amulet, Cosaint Bracers, Simple Jedi Robes
ALLY: Jax Thio Jax Thio | ENEMY: Pom Stych Tivé Pom Stych Tivé


Six meters from the Sith Academy... They're really bringing us up close, she thought to herself. Delivered straight onto the enemy's doorstep.

Aveline, for once in her life, listened to what Jax had to say. She nodded slowly, as the words were processed inside her own conflicted mind. Focus on the will of the Force. Think of the people you swore to protect. "You know, I don't even think the battle will be the worst part... You're focused then. You're focused, or you're dead. It's the waiting that gets me." She paused, then forced a smile. It wasn't a reflection of how she felt, rather how she tried to feel. They both knew that. Still, as empty as that smile was, it helped.

"There is no death, there is only the Force" Who'd have thought you'd have Aveline on a gunship, quoting the Code.

There was wisdom in what Jax said. Being a Jedi wasn't about being immune to fear. Rather, it was about knowing how to deal with it, and not allow it to conquer you.

Aveline was about to reply, when the whole ship shook. She thought for certain they'd been blasted right out of the sky then and there. Instead it was the transport on their wing that went up in flames. "Kriffing heck!" she shouted, clinging onto a railing. They were in it now. But they weren't dead...

Their transport went down for a rough landing, flanked by a couple more. Aveline took a deep breath, then gave a brief nod to Jax. Troopers rushed out, immediately opening fire and seeking cover. With a snap hiss Aveline's borrowed lightsaber flared into action. Swallowing her fear and forcing herself into action before she could really think too hard on what she was about to do, she jumped out. of the ship.

 

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Indeed, something was watching them. The two acolytes could feel the very stones glare into their souls with their thousand petrified eyes. Iasha tried to open the crate, but the lock was full of sand. She would have to spent far too long on it, and at best she might find some putrefied supplies.

No, the real treasures were inside.

I agree, let's go

The twi’lek rose and nodded to her companion, then took out her lightsabre and held it up. The red blade ignited like a torch and cast the hollow in a sinister light as she pushed into the darkness.

And what darkness they found.

It was oppressive, so oppressive it seemed as if it actually pushed against and tried to choke their sight. It was deeper and denser than one would imagine, and it was cold. So very cold. As soon as the darkness took them, the red sabre showed the visible vapour of their breath.

That’s weird.

Iasha blew a column visible breath toward her sabre and watched it dissipate around the red blade. A sound, perhaps imagined, startled her and made her turn quickly before looking to Alina. For a better view, she raised her goggles and rubbed her left eye.

This is the right place alright. I don’t think it gets worse than this.

Oh how very wrong she was. Little did they know what trailed them.

Alina Tremiru Alina Tremiru Kat Decoria Kat Decoria
 

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Location: Korriban​
Equipment: Jedi Armor Jax's Lightsaber
Jax chuckled at Aveline's remark about how the worst part of a battle was the waiting. "You're right," Jax said his hand gripping on the pole in an attempt to stop it from shaking. "It's always the fracking waiting that keeps you tense, filling your mind with doubt and fear. What if you die before you land? What if you lose your nerve? All of these hypothetical questions rip you apart by the time the battle rages, you've become hesitant, afraid. Trust me Aveline everything that you feel right I have felt multiple times before."​
The Jedi briefly turned to the Shocktroopers who were giving their weapons one last inspection. "If we die here Aveline, we die," Jax said with grimness in his voice. "But we cannot focus on what ifs to the point where we are shackled with indecision. Focus on the here and now, you're alive Aveline think nothing more than just getting out. Trust in yourself and the force."​
He had to admit though, was it too soon for Aveline to go into combat? Despite Jax's training, Aveline wasn't a practiced swordswoman as she could've though she does have great strength in force. Still he had to have confidence in his Padawan, just like Master Oda had confidence in him despite his multiple failings. Aveline must forge her own path every now and then, but when she stumbles Jax will be there to pick her up. "Indeed my young apprentice," Jax said. "There is no death but the force but don't be so blinded by the prospect of death that you find yourself wrapped around its arms. The force will be with you Aveline. Always."​
The dropship violently shook nearly causing Jax to fall. "Well what a way to disturb a good bonding moment," he thought bitterly. "We're approaching the LZ!" The pilot yelled. "Damn it's a hotbed of Sith Troopers firing at us!"​
"I've been waiting to kill me a Sith Lord!" One of the Shocktroopers: Oppa said holding out his DC-15 blaster rifle.​
"A fancy way of saying that you want to commit suicide corporal," Jax thought. "Leave any Sith Lords to us Corporal just take out any stragglers!"​
He turned to the Shocktroopers of about 150. "May the force be with us all!" Jax said as the doors opened. The group was greeted by a hail of blaster bolts from all directions. Jax activated his lightsaber just in time to deflect them all with liquid precision. With the smell of blaster fire by the Shocktroopers and the hum of his Lightsaber and the explosions from the academy. A smile crept on the Jedi's face as he disabled a Sith trooper with his own blaster bolt then immediately leapt towards him slashing chest and force pushing him to two of his buddies. With the rest of the Shocktroopers dropped off, the gunship flew high and quickly retreated before the Flak cannons were able to use their targeting computers at it.​
A rush of excitement filled Jax body as he and Aveline began to slice and dice their way to the Academy, the troopers giving them covering fire.​
This is how he relaxed.​

 


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The human shared the nod as she pulled out her own saber to similarly ignite as a torch. Where they were going they were going to need as much light as possible. Ironic. The best way to avoid traps within a tomb was by seeing with a light. The thought earned a soft chuckle from the young woman, but it was the only bit of joy she allowed herself to feel here in this moment. The dark was strong here. Oppressive.

Their light was swallowed. Their breath cold. All tell tale sighs of just how strong the Dark of the Force was here. Her expression was full of disbelief as the Twi'lek's words. "It can always get worse. Please, don't tempt fate." Alina let out a sigh as she reached a hand to rub at her brow. Her thoughts were getting muddled by her own anger and jealousy. "This place is.. Distracting. I can feel my anger being forcibly dragged out of me. Whatever trials or traps are ahead, we mustn't let out guard down."

Iasha Rha Iasha Rha Kat Decoria Kat Decoria
 

Dimitri Voltura

Guest
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ALLIES: TSE
ENEMIES: GA/NIO
ENGAGING: Kenth Ordo Kenth Ordo | Karn Syndulla Karn Syndulla
GEAR:
Cortosis-weave and Force imbued armour | Lightsaber | Force imbued Sith Sword

Korriban.

Cneturies it had been since he had set foot on this spiritual ground. He had distanced himself from the carnage he had once wrought in the name of the Sith. He lived a quiet life on Naboo, had the occasional donor and had landed himself an Apprentice in the form of the wondrously Light Eenia Vahn Eenia Vahn . He had been content.

Yet, the armour called to him. The blood and carnage still called.

For the most part, he had resisted it. Had kept his past in the past. Yet, at his heart, he was still Sith. Still wielded the Dark Side like a cudgel with the grace of the Lords of old. So when news reached his ears of a declaration of war on his spiritual homeworld, the call of the Dragon was heeded, regardless of diplomacy. He could not stand idle and allow the Heart of the Sith to fall.

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To stand amongst his comrades-in-arms between the hallowed tombs in the mouth of the Nexus, fueled a power of times long passed. It felt good. He had forgotten how immensely powerful it made him. It coursed through his Force-powered veins with vigour, burning his eyes to a bright yellow.

When the Jedi decided to show themselves, they did so with fanfare. Not only could his heightened senses feel the sickening twinge of the Light Side, but he could hear the speeders falling from the sky. The time to move was now.

Harnessing the Hounds of old, the Tuk'ata, to his whim, was not hard. Channeling the Dark power through the Nexus, he was capable of bending many of their minds to his. While numerous Hounds attacked the speeders throughout the Valley, one stayed by his side, willing to react to any command, its red eyes burning like embers.

Standing on a rise, Dimitri watched as a few brazens raced through his area of the Valley on the way to the Academy.
"Well then. We shall have to do something about that, shouldn't we?" he said to the Hound next to him.
Picking two targets, the Sith Lord raised his hands in two different directions and knocked the speeders from under his targets, sending them flying into the Korriban sand and jagged stones.

From where he stood, he was still able to grab hold of the gunner that had accompanied Kenth Ordo Kenth Ordo , with the Force and smash him against the statue of one of the Sith, causing the man to snap his neck. He then directed a different Tuk'ata at Karn Syndulla Karn Syndulla 's driver, willing it to devour the soul of that person.
"That's far enough, Jedi!" he said, the Darkness amplifying his voice as he spoke to the two Jedi. The Hounds around Dimitri bared their fangs with a chorus of growls, the one next to him exceptionally so, while the Sith Lord was ready for any attack the Jedi might try to throw at him.

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Chosen of the Shadow Emperor


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Felucian Jungles, Graug Warband, Stalking
Armor:
Warrior's Skin,
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Just like home.

Deep in the stifling heat and unbearable humidity of the thick, dense jungles of Felucia horrific beasts moved. Acklay raged across the thicket amidst the month long battle killing and devouring indiscriminate prey, while Sithspawned nightmares belched from the laboratory of the Order of Shadows ran wild making the landscape a killing ground where survival was a feat all on its own, battle aside. All manner of diseases, jungle toxins from the lethal planet made merely living on the world that was Felucia hard. For the recent arrivals, however? They paid no mind to the heat nor the diseases or toxins. They were absolutely fearless as they dove straight into the jungles. For Graug?
It was just like home.
"Most Holy. We are ready." The pale, towering graug had said before the figure who knelt into the wet earth. A makeshift altar had been set up with the symbol of an eye ablaze atop it. The kneeling Graug wore a set of Warrior's Skin adorned with runes and holy sigils bearing the same eye and others from his his clan that marked him, Karn Zhakul as the High Prophet of the Holy Clan of Gratos. Such glorious displays on his armor were smeared and covered up with thin hides from Felucian beasts, vegetation and a thin smearing of mud from head to toe. This world was like home, and home was dangerous. Gratos was a proving ground where the strong thrived and the weak died as food for the predators, and nutrients for the plantlife. In this way they would all blend in, camouflage and a mask for their scent to help throw predators off the scent. The galaxy knew Graug as the masters of siege warfare, but did they know just how they excelled in jungle warfare? The Sith Empire called and if the inferior races needed a reminder of their supremacy, they would get it today.
"We move." Karn said standing to his full height as he took off through the jungle deep. All around him the warband moved as one at their leaders command. In the dense jungle they seemed to disappear as they moved carefully, delicately. The hunt required patience after all. When they came upon a party of alliance troopers? A platoon that moved through the jungle and had been ambushed by a barreling Acklay, it screeched maddeningly as it tore one of the men in half and knocked a group over, lasers blazing into its hide. Just when it was finally brought down however that was when the fire started. It began all at once from multiple directions the pop of slugthrowers carrying vicious projectiles. The Towering Nightmare shot his hands forward again and again as balls of fire blazed out from his clawed fingers, engulfing men in orange plumes. It lasted just enough time to suppress the disoriented and confused troops who survived the initially volley, only to see the mystery attackers charging in. Then it was over. In a flurry of rage induced violence blood flowed as they cut, slashed and tore the survivors apart with blade, tooth, and claw. Just as they struck however they vanished again and any who would come upon the sight of violence? Not a single trace of the attackers remained.
Just like home.

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Location: Kway Teow - Northern Approach.
Objective: Establish Armoured and Artillery Position Prior to Commencement.
Allies: The Galactic Alliance; Felucian Expeditionary Forces.
Enemies: The Sith Empire.
Equipment: See Signature for Relevant Hyperlinks
NPC Complement: 212th Army Group - 7th Regiment: ~2,560 Alliance Marines.
Status: Sustained Casualties from Month-long Campaign.
Morale: Steady - Partially Improving.

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For a month, they had been slogging through the underbrush and poisonous terrain of Felucia in the hopes of claiming victory against the insidious Sith Empire. For a month, an entire regiment of the Galactic Alliance’s best and brightest were pushing back against the darkness. They suffered casualties, as one would expect. Both the twisted fauna and flora of this world considered these valiant men and women to be nothing more than sustenance and ate away not only at their resolve but their bodies as well. Thankfully, these trained soldiers were equipped with some of the most advanced arms and armour that Credits could buy. Through their accrued technologies, much of the apparent hostility that benighted the fungal world was harmlessly filtered away from their person.

Sadly, the same couldn’t be said of the creatures that lurked in the terrestrial shadows. Not for all of them, at least, as the smaller ones seemed easy enough to scare away with the threat of violence or the odd stun bolt. But, when it came to the more massive creatures - their advanced technologies weren’t enough to dissuade them from attacking. The Alliance Marines were intruding on their territory, after all, so it made sense that they would do everything they could to defend their homes. While some were easy enough to dispatch using ultrasonic beacons, others found themselves even more enraged. Going so far as to assault the armoured column of walkers pushing through one village after the next.

That was a sight for the ages. While terrible in every respect, seeing a monstrous Acklay surge forth from the jungle of towering fungi made the trek towards the Capital City more… interesting. Especially when the trees themselves seemingly started speaking in the native’s local dialect. The armoured column, composed mostly of walkers - alongside a handful of mobile artillery units - found themselves keeping a wary eye upon the treeline. Even with proverbial swarms of recon walkers storming through the fungal underbrush, it did the Regiment well to sweep their surroundings lest they be caught unawares. Which, sadly, happened from time to time - as there was a limit to how well their advanced technologies operated in their deployed environment.

Organic error was most often the cause, as the locals knew the terrain better than anyone - and used that knowledge to their advantage.

During the Regiment’s advance towards the Capital City, there was a time where the native population led a portion of the armoured column astray. They knocked down one of their great fungal trees and impeded the rearguard’s advance. Nearly three squads of marines and their respective transports were severed from the advancing chain - forced to circumnavigate the freshly made obstacle that blocked their path. In doing so, however, these valiant men and women were ambushed by enraged animals that were stirred into action by the locals. Their last transmission relayed a ‘last stand’ scenario against a pair of jungle rancors that thrashed their way through the fungal foliage.

This planet was hell. Whoever thought it was a brilliant idea to land boots on the ground clearly didn’t recognize the threats they were pitted against, and all of the spilled blood would stain their hands. As the armoured column reached their intended destination, Major Tycho Dune hoped that those responsible for planning this assault would accept the consequences of their actions. While unlikely, in the grand scheme of things, it was a righteous line of thought. He cared about those under his Command and wanted to see them through this madness safely. But as the days began to stretch into weeks, and the month thereafter - that was proving to be an impossibility. There were always casualties in warfare; that much was true - whether it’s on the homefront as a soldier’s mind began to break or on the battlefield. But this was… wholly unnecessary.

The Alliance had the technology to assault the Capital City, with little need to secure its surroundings. For reasons that Tycho couldn’t explain, this was apparently the best option presented to them. He kept his thoughts to himself, however. Such rancour spreading through the ranks would’ve been demoralizing, and with the planet and the local garrison trying to kill you at every turn? It wouldn’t have been smart to spread such derision openly, lest his already depleted Regiment endures a continual spree of mass desertion.

So, Tycho was forced to do whatever he could to ensure that morale remained at nominal levels. The bodies of the fallen were recovered, if possible, and ferried back to the beachheads that their massive assault carrier’s established when they first made planetfall. They were given all the respect and honour that fallen soldiers were due. To ensure that they wouldn’t be lost, Tycho continually requested that a portion of their air power was dedicated to this grim duty whenever supply runs were made. While some were forced to proceed on the ground for a time, Command seemed more than appreciative to grant his continual pleas.

If only they did the same when the Major requested permission to put entire villages to the torch. Especially if they were rife with fanatical Sith Imperial soldiers and throngs of indoctrinated natives.

Despite the continual rejection by his Commanding Officers, there was one thing that Tycho could control, and that was how his Regiment interpreted and accomplished their primary objectives. A factor which translated into entire villages being bombarded with selective blaster neutralizers and knock-out gases. The former ensured that casualties inflicted by plasmatic or energy-based weapons were incredibly low for either side of the conflict. The latter ensured that the locals - who went without protective gear - were taken out of harm’s way in the most humane manner possible. Such actions made the burden of the Alliance Marine’s mission slightly more manageable, which played a part in improving morale in the long run. But, there were always exceptions that weren’t accounted for.

Nevertheless, when the Regiment reached their intended destination - there was a spike in the marine’s collective morale. The end of their Campaign was within their grasp. As all they had to do was force the Sith Empire to capitulate - or slay what remained of their active combatants within the Capital City. It was likely that their control over the entire system would falter with the surface secured, leaving the Alliance the undisputed victors. Sure, they’d likely have to deal with an unruly populace in the meantime. But, that was to be expected, especially since they were wholly indoctrinated to believe the Sith’s silver-tongued lies. It would take some time to undo such deeply ingrained manipulations before the locals could consider themselves freed from the Dark Sorcerer’s corruptive influence.

As the 104th Battalion and elements of the 222nd Nova Corps moved into position - completing their respective objectives, the 7th Regiment of the 212th found themselves on the prime footing to establish their contribution to the siege. The armoured walkers began to fan out as they secured their newly-taken position. Slowly trudging through the fringes of the terrestrial jungle before committing themselves to a firing line that took the shape of a waning, crescent moon. Situated behind these armoured walkers were the wheeled behemoths that formed a significant portion of the armoured column. Their heavy guns were pointed towards the veritable barbican arrayed before them, whilst the troops within began calculating firing solutions. While they were eager to end this month-long Campaign, it would be a hollow victory if their margin for collateral damage exceeded nominal parameters.

Extreme caution would be taken. Drones would likely be deployed to assist in targeting military structures - or pinpoint artillery strikes that would probably soften up any expected enemy resistance.

When his Regiment’s deployment was nearing completion, as more and more guns were being pointed towards the City, the Major activated his Juggernaut’s encrypted communication system. He broadcasted his Regiment’s status across the encrypted BattleNet, citing that they ready to proceed. As the Marine Commander waited for the order to commence the attack, the rest of his armoured units filled the gaps. They began establishing patrols - which included a collection of ultrasonic beacons to ward off the native fauna. It wouldn’t do any good to suffer an attack on multiple fronts when seeking to bring down a Sith Imperial stronghold’s defences. For that would divide their efforts and likely extend the already taxing Campaign longer than it should have.

“And so we stand at the precipice,” Tycho whispered to himself as he pulled himself through the Juggernaut’s forward access hatch with Quadnoculars in hand. “Let us see who wins the day.”



 
Breaker of Chains
Codex Judge
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TSE ALLIES: Dimitri Voltura / Ulrich Ulrich
GA ENEMIES: Kenth Ordo Kenth Ordo / Aramis Sunstrider / Karn Syndulla Karn Syndulla
LOCATION: Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban
OBJECTIVE III: Kill the defilers and guard the Valley
EQUIPMENT: Lightsaber
Currently Engaging: Hal Vaiken Hal Vaiken
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Alisteri's eye narrowed, a growl leaving him as he saw the speeder bike approaching him. The winds seemed to pick up as he spotted it, the sandstorm was growing larger. Perhaps the ritual was affecting it? He couldn't tell, but he had some more important business to handle at the moment.

Said business happened to be a speeder bike propelling towards him rather quickly.

The acolyte shifted, readying for an attack as the vehicle sped towards him. He kept his weapon low, the tip of the blade almost touching the ground. Right as it was about two meters away he stepped out of its path. With a quick movement he brought his sabre up, slicing the speeder bike nearly in half as it went past him. He let out the breath that he had been holding, his gaze shifted to the Jedi that had sent the now crashing vehicle at him.

"Please don't tell me you thought that it would be that easy."

In truth he was surprised that he managed to pull that off, a second later and his right arm would've probably been taken off. The Sith spun the lightsaber around, now holding the hilt in a reverse grip with the blade behind him. His aura of calm and nonchalance was in reality a bit of a cover. He had never gone toe-to-toe with a Jedi, but the opportunity equally excited and terrified him.

With any luck he could put this heretic in his place.

Without further delay he sprung forward, sprinting towards his opponent. "You will pay for your desecration of this sacred world!"
 
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N I G H T S I S T E R S
the N E C R O M A N C E R
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They come!

It never ceased to amaze this Nightsister how much she could learn from the Sith. The rest of the galaxy did not teach of any power which she respected as much.

The whole area engorged on beautiful darkness. The Nightsister opened her mind to the possibilities which lay before her. Her teachers here are powerful and worthy of exoneration. They come in many forms. Some ethereal.

These days the Nightsister found herself numbered one among Lord Carnifex's entourage. Unless the two were conspiring to generate a most magnificent magick, Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex often went about his political business, which empowers the Nationalists, while Pom entertains exploration of amazing aspects of his world.

'Come hither, daughter,' whispered upon the wind.

The Valley of the Dark Lords is one place which intrigues her, similar to Dathomir where the dead do not remain dead. She could not explore enough through sacred holocrons.

'She comes.'

A familiar feeling hit her with the words of the spirits, the tug of longing. Whispers begging desires to become fulfilled. The dead, one with Darkness, conjoined to so much power, but death the cruelest hollow of existence. Life, too short a time, but not too short for one to find themselves teased and taunted to obsession, and then simply left behind, given up to nothing satisfying thereafter, and for eternity?! The spirits enticed the Necromancer, promising secrets revealed in return for existing once again. It is exactly as the Wanica had done. Their covenant they have kept.

There is no confusion in existence here among the Force, as the Galactic Alliance proclaims. The Force here, she is that she is! Darkness is her way in these parts. Even without the Sith, the Darkside shall continue to exist! She chooses to make the Sith ETERNAL.

The departed Sith Lords beg their Sisters for reincarnation! The Matriarch danced, kicking up dust of decayed flesh and bone, as she chanted her incantation throughout the Valley.

War drives opportunity!
Excuse!
Purpose!


Oh how she intends to take up the spirits' bargain!

The whispers grew in volume as the Nightsister and sang her way along a path to her destination, willingly spellbound. She shimmied right into the tomb of the departed which beckoned her.

A sinister smile erected across her lips. The Matriarch threw back her head, and from her mouth out trailed twelve plumes of black smoke, which came to land all around her.

"They know Jedi filth are coming as well, Mistress. It is confirmed," it said.

The twelve funnels of smoke transformed into cloaked beings. Their faces, last to form, flaunt fair beauty. Thirteen lineal Matriarchs of the Nightsisters of Dathomir comprise the Wanica Coven, the Non-Existent.

"So let it be done," they design, orchestrating their Magick to produce the outcome.




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Friday I shall return, my friends! Catch me up on Discord!
 
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Felucia from the surface, Felucia was a beautiful planet filled with lush and exotic plants and animals roaming the place. Yet once you land onto the planet, it's a living hell. It was a planet full of death and disease, poisonous plants and animals ready to rip you limb from limb. No sane person would willingly want to set their feet here. Yet here Zanvic was leading a large group of soldiers through the bizarre assortment of spores and plants, the Sith Empire had dug their heels in the water facilities of Felucia and dared the Galactic Alliance to stop them. With the distribution of the water source vital for major hyperlanes and the planet itself a great foot hold in Sith/Imperial territory the Alliance responded.

Zanvic looked down at his REC-DC/02 Blaster Carbine and gave it a good slap as the dropship landed. "All right marines listen up!" he said exiting the ship. "Sith forces are attempting to take the water facilities of Felucia and try to fire the first shots against the Galactic Alliance. We're here to give our these Dark Side bastards a warm welcome. First we clear out any hostiles outside then we go into the water facilities and secure the area. Understood?"

"Oorah!" the Marines yelled in response as the looked around the strange planet.

The Zanvic gave a curt nod pressing a button on his helmet in attempt to contact Bayaz Bayaz . " Lieutenant," Zanvic said. "We've just landed and we're heading to your-"

The sounds of blaster fire were heard on his radio causing the clone to frown and lift his blaster. "Rail and his squad are in trouble!" He announced to his squad. "Let's move in to position double time!"
 

Lark

Saint of the Damned
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Location: Valley of the Dark Lords, Near Tomb of Darth Bane
Objective: Bully Jedi
Writing With: Mato Kejak Mato Kejak
Nearby: Felix Astermo Felix Astermo (Ally) Auteme Auteme (Enemy) Lucien Dooku Lucien Dooku (Enemy)

Out of all the little rocks floating in an infinite void, Korriban was certainly Lark's favorite. This was not his first foray onto the ghastly world, these deserts had once played host to one of the innumerable sponsored gladiatorial bouts the Empire paraded around. Indeed, one of his first tasks after joining the Empire was to assist in recapturing the home of the Sith. It had been grunt work, but that was his role for the time being. He wasn't planning on that work going to waste. Lark's favorite Korriban hobby, one that he had sadly not had the time to participate in due to a certain betrayal, was to explore tombs once thought to be lost to the sands of time and recover whatever knowledge or artifacts their predecessors left behind. The lessons of the past were just as valuable as the ones taught today.

It was in the heart of one of those primeval tombs that Lark uncovered the infernal Necronomicon, a weapon of maddening calligraphy and haunted pages. Sanity was smothered as quick as a candle under a faucet while reading that blasted tome, his descent into those eldritch words exacerbated his flux of personalities, it was a wonder Lark was able to stitch his mind back together. Rarely did he chain the Necronomicon to his hip, he worried that his mind was still too vulnerable to attempt another study session. He had not brought it home. For now the book was locked away somewhere even the dead had become wary of.

But Lark was the only one living who knew even a cipher of what was written in that bewitching codex. He would master it. He cared not how vexatious the script was, nor how frenzied the author was. It would bend to Lark's will.

The scarlet-haired acolyte was perched atop a statue whose features had worn away, just another faceless hunk of stone amongst the rest. Perhaps it was Darth Bane, whose tomb Lark now guarded. Oh, what beautiful secrets he could learn from the man that set the seed for the fall of the Republic so many years ago.

But there would be no secrets to unearth if the Jedi were allowed to writhe control Korriban from the influence of the Sith. They'd ravage and maim these hallowed graves, a barrage such as this was an insult of the highest magnitude. The only worthy recompense was the absolute extermination. Once the Jedi's souls were released into the spectral desert, they'd be devoured by the most carnal spirits the Sith had ever unleashed. Hunted and consumed for all eternity.

Lark stood, and dropped down into the swirling storm of sand. He let the infinite furor swell up within him, the delicious wrath a beautiful gift from those who came before. A tempest of emotions so atrocious they'd give the most valiant of soldiers unending nightmares, they'd awake screaming only to see that in their terror they had clawed half of their face off onto their pillow.

A small gust of wind scattered grains of orange sand as Lark gently landed beside another who shared this burgeoning passion. He could not see any features behind the man's golden mask, but appearance mattered not when it came to situations like this. Together they stood to defend this ancient homeworld, a place of infinite knowledge and history.

They would not let it fall.
 
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Location: Korriban - Sith Academy
Allies: Gnox the Insatiable
Enemies: Allyson Locke Allyson Locke | Zaavik Perl Zaavik Perl
Objective: Hunt the Corellian, and her Little Padawan too.
Equipment:
Armour & Dual Blades
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Technomancers were a tricky type to track down. Interference with technology was often scrubbed, provided the user knew what they were doing. Allyson Locke was one such person, especially coupled with her unique knack for Force Camouflage. The memory of the Corellian’s first use of that against her still held firm in her mind, it infuriated her but the added challenge only excited the Zabrak.

And oh, she did love a good challenge.

When word had reached her of a potential break-in at the academy, Vaylin had made a beeline for Korriban. There were no signs in the databases and systems, nothing to indicate what the infiltrators had been looking for exactly. But one, yes one of them had tripped a trap a fellow Sith had constructed to ensnare nosey little Mechu Deru users.

Now that wasn’t Locke, no way she was that sloppy. Much as she wanted to kill the Corellian, Vaylin wasn’t beyond giving respect where it was due. Not like she’d openly admit that to the woman. But something about that fact had occupied the Zabrak’s mind like a disease.

Allyson wasn’t flying solo? That was interesting...potentially teaching someone with the same skill set?

Oh, that was positively delicious.

The days after their infiltration, and before the invasion itself, Vaylin had been stalking the academy’s halls. She spent the time tracing the steps Allyson and her little partner had taken, faint as they were. Allyson was good but the fatal flaw was that the Zabrak had been hunting her for a long time now, she knew what to look for.

Her presence in the Force was burned into Vaylin’s senses. Albeit, if she hadn’t had the days inbetween to investigate, she probably wouldn’t have been as successful. But she had found out where the duo had hid during their infiltration. So it became a simple matter of preparing, then waiting.

Allyson~” The voice echoed across the darkness around the room. A modulated voice enunciating some of the letters. “Allyson Locke~” To the Corellian there was no doubt who the voice belonged to, but the Zabrak’s presence was cloaked in darkness, that seeped throughout the Sith Homeworld. Nor where there was any technology on her to sense, the Zabrak had learned her lesson on not bringing any to these fights.

Silence fell, until it was pierced by the sound of metal scraping against stone. Then the sound of boots striding over metal. Moment by moment, the voice grew more distinct, more centralized. Until the source of both finally appeared from the darkened rafters above.

Allyson Locke, and her little Padawan.” The accent slipped out at the mention of Zaavik.

Vaylin was dressed in her Hand armour, faceless mask staring down at the pair of Jedi. Her dual blades were already in her hands. “I’m surprised you brought someone, I’d hate to see you lose another.
 
Objective III: the wave of purity
Location: Trying to support the team in reaching sith academy


Two REC-LU01 HAAT Heavy Apex Assault Transport flies in the skies of Korriban under command of Sgt. major Jedi master Jin avoiding enemy Flak, master jin brief the men, "Alright rangers, we are in Korriban, yes the burial for sith, we are to support our fellow silver Jedi and GA Jedi on the ground near sith academy, careful men, there sith in the area so follow your Jedi commanders and in the event, I am not available you are to follow the available Jedi commanders in sith academy they are will train in these situations or follow my personal and loyal second man, good luck men for the alliance!" the men shout in happiness, "For the Alliance". The pilots warn the crew," were almost near the LZ, please be prepared" Jin tells the pilot," Understood, thanks, Jeb." Then Jin radios @ Aveline Cuiléin Aveline Cuiléin and @ Jax Thio Jax Thio , "hello, my fellow Jedi friends and allies, this is Jedi master Jin were closing on your location please clear the LZ.." pilot yells, "Enemy flak inbound, they spotted us, this is HAAT 'Mundi" enemy rocket coming, its closer aaaaaahhhhhhh...." jin yells,"This is Master jin we are hit, were going down, HAAT 'walker' go another route were going down......" radio cuts off and the HAAT 'Mundi' crashes somewhere far and lost while HAAT 'walker' flies another direction. Master jin fate remains unknown. till next time.
 


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The darkest perversions ever devised by scientific means were poured into one singular project. Forbidden knowledge, profane arts thought lost deep within the annals of history, as well as magic and alchemy of the highest order were poured into one singular being, one singular prison. Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka . How did one break a spirit? How did one shatter a jedi master that had joined the ranks of the elder druids beyond death, in that sacred realm of the netherworld of tranquility where reputed Jedi went? What sort of punishment could you afflict on one who was already dead? The ultimate shame, a final victory and one that even the mighty Zark in his infinite wisdom never would've been able to see coming.

Resurrection.

Every inch of the returned Jedi Masters body was unnatural, sick, and perverted. The folds of his skin were a canvas and the Dark Lord had undergone hours upon hours of painstaking work at the hand of a blade, carving and weaving to etch a full network of Sith runes on the inside and outside of his very skin. The Jedi Master's very bones were saturated in corruption of the highest accord, they had undergone a treatment of their own to further blight this fleshy edifice to the spirit that haunted him across the galaxy from one end to the other. Ryloth, Pantora. The very world around them whipped and howled at Sith and Jedi alike, Korriban had a life on its own, a soul born in blood and thousands of years of history the Sith heartworld had grown wild and unchained, and in doing so it had turned its wrath indiscriminately upon all who ventured within its howling wastes. While the Dark Lord had come to lend his strength to the Great Taming that now began, he had come for a far more sinister reason.

Victory.

When the doors had opened and the giant stepped within to gaze upon his final victory a grin took root from beneath the hood of the black and red spidersilk robes that hugged his immense form, robes bearing the sigil of the Sith Eternal and ones only fitting for a Dark Lord of the Sith. Every torture was designed to pull and tug at every pain receptor, every shock that sent synaptic thrusts through the mind to remind the elder that his will was no longer his own. No longer could the great Zark the Wise bring to bear that immense mind of his. "Zark. I have brought something for you. One final piece to complete the masterpiece I have created for you." The Dark Lord said pulling out from within the folds of his robes a single vial inscribed with glowing runes. Even in the giants hand something moved within it, as if it seemed alive. It threw itself at the edges and shook the entire glass. "Victory." As soon as the top of the vial came off, the Jedi Master would know from his time in the netherworld what was within. A single droplet from the Black Lake of the Dreaming Dark. The droplet would leave the vial and strike out towards the the Jedi Master with blinding speed, as soon as it hit him, the sheer agony as it struck out at mind, body, and soul would be indescribable.

"I told you. You would not escape me."


 
We all fall in parallel
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NEW JEDI ORDER

OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY | POST II

EQUIPMENT: Blaster Rifle | Armor

SOMEWHERE NEAR THE VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS

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Aim for the fethers in the shiniest armor.

"Wilco," he replied as he calibtrated the rifle and started prioritizing targets. Dug in and balanced so that the speeder's drift would hinder him significantly less. They had gone over the scenario countless times in practice, and he felt duly acclimated. All that was left now was the real thing.

As they sped along, he felt something strange around his body. It felt like the Force suddenly constricted around his body. "What the f-"

Whatever had happened, he found his footing tweaked, and with both hands on his rifle he swayed in a wild attempt to steady himself. "Woaaaah!"

Taku's scream carried on the wind as the violent tug wrenched him free of the speeder; albeit, the momentum got neutered by his foothold on the bike. As he sailed through the air, he panicked, twisting and flailing, trying to get his foot on solid ground...

Friends: Karn Syndulla Karn Syndulla | Kenth Ordo Kenth Ordo
Not Friends: Dimitri Voltura
 
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