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

[Iasha Rha]

Alina Tremiru Kat Decoria​

She smirked at Alina’s superstitious comment regarding fate. Her master had told her fate was something they constructed for themselves. It was cause and effect. With the right foresight, one could topple an Empire with a single sweep of the sabre. Fate and luck were just concepts to explain effects whose causes were impossible to observe.

“Remember our academy lessons: Keep your mind occupied.” she spat out some sand from her mouth and raised her sabre anew “And keep your sabre up.”

In Iasha’s mind, she was walking herself through a story she had read, explaining it to herself and remembering the details on the page. Some played Dejarik, some played sabacc, some talked to themselves.

She turned to face the same way as Alina again, and the pair of them delved deeper into the darkness. Not only did it pull at their anger, but it also tugged at their fears, concerns, even pride. Iasha’s lekku wrapped around her neck protectively as she focused her mind on the story in her mind again.

“I can feel the battle has begun.”

She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder, but kept her eyes forward into the darkness ahead. She felt Korriban stir like a slumbering beast coming to wake up and shake off the Jedi infestation. This was a world of the dark side of the Force, the home of the Sith. None but the strong could survive, and only the dark ones were strong enough to thrive.

She felt they were being pursued, but was it the darkness or the light that dogged their heels?

“We must hurry.”

The long tunnel narrowed, forcing them to walk single file for a while. Corridors split off to either side, vanishing into darkness and the unknown. Undoubtedly, the temptation was there to explore those dark spaces, but they knew their mission depended on them heading further down. Down into the belly of the beast.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: G E T _ UP _ & _ F I G H T //:
//: Team Vos //: Zaavik Perl //:
//: TSE //: Gnox the Insatiable //: Vaylin //: Maple Harte //:
//: Infiltrate, Plunder, Destroy //:
//: Sith Academy //: Korriban //:

Guess Allyson doesn't make a lot of friends?​

A lot of things happened, pretty karking fast. Allyson felt like a rag doll the moment Zaavik pulled her out of the line of fire of the shotgun. She had picked up on the would-be shooter ( Maple Harte ); her cloaking device announced her presence louder than any emotional readings in the Force would have. The perks of having two Jedi Shadows who were also versed in the ways of Technomancy. No one could really hide from the pair; it's what made them so good at their job. ​

"Thanks," She responded quickly, but before she could deal with the woman with the shotgun, a sickening feeling filled the air as she could smell the stench of death lingering in the doorway. The gruff sound of the hunger echoed, and Allyson could feel how much he wanted to gobble up the pair of Shadows. "Uh-" There was a smart remark on the way. Unfortunately, the massive beast would miss out on the Corellian comedy hour because Vaylin decided to appear. Allyson felt her entire frame freeze up, hearing the voice echoing in the room. It was expected, she had already made a joke about the Zabrak finding her way here, but Allyson had hoped if she spoke it out into the universe, the Zabrak would find something else to play with. ​

"H-Hey Vaylin, long time no see." The Corellian looked back at Zaavik, who decided to make his own commentary on what was happening. "Maybe? I'm not really sure at this point. Its either get shot, stabbed, or eaten" She stayed close to the Padawan as her own saber was now drawn, the azure blade humming to life as she glanced between the three opponents. 3 Sith, 2 Lords, and possibly a knight? Allyson couldn't quite get a read on the shotgun woman. ​

Before anything occurred, the same woman started to speak nonsense. Nothing that came out of her mouth made sense, and the nickname for Carnifex made her cringe. "What, are you one of Carnifex's wives or something?" Allyson had enough of it. Apparently, the woman was insane and not entirely there. A push of the Force attempted to create some distance between the shotgun woman and them. "Keep an eye on her, but continue the mission the best you can." If anything, she needed to cover Zaavik. ​

Allyson placed herself between Zaavik and the two Sith Lords, waiting to see who decided to bite first. As much as she wanted to focus on Vaylin, she needed to worry about the beast. Mostly by how he looked at her like a bantha steak. A foot stepped back, solidifying her stance. She couldn't fight like she usually would, protected by the shadows of the Force. If she fell into the camouflage and attacked, it would only leave Zaavik open. Cursing under her breath, she looked around her and noticed security cameras on the walls. ​

As quickly as she had seen them, she used the Force to rip them down and launch them towards the beast and Vaylin. It wasn't as efficient as she liked to be, but it would work at least to throw them off guard or cause some sort of distraction.​

 

[Top Bishop]

WOLFPACK
FELUCIA | KWAY TEOW OFFENSIVE
R U F F _ R Y D E R S
Shocktrooper Armour | Rifle | 2x Pistol

​

Slinging his rifle from his side to his front, he remained in the back of the group of soldiers.

Previously, he was on defensive deployments, never in the action. Most of these Wolves were hardened soldiers, carving names out for themselves in the Braxant Run Campaign alongside the Imperials. The Sith Empire and her brainwashed war machine, they hated them. The planets they burned, the people they took from them... Bishop could understand it all.

Checking his pouches lining his midsection, he ensured there were the standard amount of plasma cartridges. The gas canister was already implemented. Easier to carry the cartridges than the canisters.

The last attack.

Multiple attack points, Bishop didn't see a way they could lose. Pushed back all this way? The Sith were doomed.

The General arrived. It was his first time seeing him in person, his transfer to the renewed front had come in after Yinchorr. A Jedi Commander? It was just like the history books. The only difference was that Bishop was now apart of it, instead of hearing about the victories on the holonet. He'd see it first hand right here.

The General gave the command.

The battle began.

ALLIES | GA | NIO | Amon Vizsla | Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt | Captain Raith | Djorn Bline
ENEMIES | TSE | Eldaah Aderyn | Karn Zhakul | Madelyn Lowe ​

 

[Gnox the Insatiable]

LOCATION: Sith Academy, Korriban
OBJECTIVE: Find the Intruders
GEAR: The Butcher
ALLIES: TSE, Vaylin , Maple Harte
ENEMIES: GA, Allyson Locke , Zaavik Perl

This was.. Far more interesting than he had expected this to become. Around him two new souls joined the fray. One who knew the Jedi and was here to.. Do something. How she spoke was far more possessive than a simple rivalry. And the shot gunner. How these two found these Jedi Shadows was proof that bringing the padawan might of been a mistake. Though, he wasn't in a better situation. Now he had others to worry about.

How much they wanted this Jedi all to themselves might just make it impossible for him to fight.

Gnox's grip on his flail tightened as a low, grumbling groan escaped him. He didn't tell anyone of this intrusion because his type of fighting was dangerous to those around him. But, well. Perhaps they'd have their use. "I'll leave her to you, then. You seem to have a bond." And he wanted to stop the padawan's mission. Whatever they were here for was far too important to just let them continue. A voice in his head spoke, muttering in his ear. Yes, that would work.

The monstrous being brought up a hand, his glaring red gaze shifting from the woman to the boy. Then to the console they were operating on. A storm of lightning would rip through his arm, charring his flesh with the raw power as it flew towards the machinery to destroy it all. And perhaps catch the padawan in the crossfire.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Keep her mind occupied. Right. Alina's mind immediately traveled to a number of memories, scanning through to try and avoid letting her emotions control her. There weren't many good ones though. Being out casted by her mother, tortured by her sister and brother, the death of her father. "Chit." She was already loosing the battle against her emotions. The young acolyte now gripped her face as she walked with the Twi'lek. It wasn't just anger now. Everything. All the types of passion that made a Sith a Sith were being wrenched from her.

Fear was the strongest emotion within her. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the known. They were in an undocumented Sith tomb. There had to be traps. Had to be monsters. Where Iasha Rha refused to look over her shoulder Alina did. The regret was instant. Whether it was real or a trick of the darkness she saw.. Something. Something big. Moving in the shadows. Her eyes widened as she stood there, staring.

Then it stared back.

She fell onto the ground in her attempt to scramble away, nearly cutting herself on her saber before pulling it up defensively.

"W.. We're.." Her voice cracked with fear. But that snapped her out of it. She cleared her throat as she stood up again. The shadow monsters were gone as she took a calming breath.

A trick. Or a trap. The human's mind slowed as she looked back to her fellow acolyte. She was calm. Composed. Alina's focused turned to the memory of the ice cream pallor with her father, the day before he died. It was a good day. Her turmoil stilled as she retook her position beside the other. "There are tricks in the shadows. Be mindful."

Kat Decoria

 

[Felix Astermo]

Location: Valley of Kings, Tomb of Darth Bane
Objective: Enshrine the trespassers within a gilded tomb.
Equipment: Red Lightsaber, Unspecified Talismans, Glorious Golden Mask.
Writing With: Auteme & Lucien Dooku - Opposition | Lark & Mato Kejak - Nearby.

One at his side and three to face them. For a moment, amidst the raging storm, it was as if time was frozen - and then Aurum broke the illusion, a cold voice echoing forth from his mouthless mask, piercing the chaos like a lightsaber through common steel.

"You may take the bald one, my collection is wanting a splash of youth."

Offering no explanation for strange statement and the implications it carried, the Golden Magus slowly lifted his left hand, alchemical conduits glowing a sullen crimson as sand was ripped from the dunes and the surrounding weather, melting and contorting until a sword of jagged glass, impossibly sharp and imbued with unearthly resilience, landed in his right hand. They were best collected alive, but he anticipated struggle.

Leaning into a defensive form, he simply... stood there. Why give chase when they had to get through him to reach their destination?

 

[Hal Vaiken]

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

The Jedi dragged himself up, nasty scratches across his flesh. It was a good trick. Hardly ever worked but it was unorthodox.

And that's where his specialty lied unto.

"You will pay for your desecration of this sacred world!"

"Sacred? This? Never been to Zeltron, kid?" A dirty grin flashed across his face as he lined his sawed-off for a shot. "Guess you never will."

Tycho pulled the trigger at the charging Sith.

Nothing happened.

His grin disappeared.

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

 

[Avernus]

K O R R I B A N
V A L L E Y _ O F _ K I N G S

[ EMITTING GLORIOUS ENERGY, BY THE GRACE OF GODS, GO I ]

Tomb of Some Forgotten Loser
Style and Profile
AMCO
​

"Avernus, long time no see. Must be embarrassing perishing to a more or less untrained apprentice..."​

A hollow, ghostly laugh boomed from the late Dark Lord's spectral figure. Morphing from voices new, old, and unfamiliar, the wail reverberated across the cold sandstone walls of the chamber. "Oh please," he began in the condescending articulation of his Pureblood persona, though his visual remained that of the heir. "It's a fate that awaits us all, in some way or another. I've been dead for this long and that's the best jab you've got? You're losing your touch, Prospero." Avernus's spirit began to pace. A trail of ethereal orange-gold emissions trailing behind him. His half-tangible footfalls sounded more like a wet sheet tapping against the stone than feet. A cold breeze rolled off his path, adding even more chill to Korriban's already less than comfortable ambiance.

The ectoplasmic mockery of a stride curved to the right and glided in a beeline towards the living Sith. Stopping a half step away, his head crept upwards to meet Adrian's much higher eyeline. With him came an unsettling chill, the little heat in the air around them pulled into the spirit's energy. A seizure-worthy flicker of forms began to flash uncontrollably, his spirit unable to tell truth from facade. A macabre scar on his very essence was this uncertainty, a testament to his nature.

"Had I expected your arrival, there would certainly have been more gold. Ghost compatible snacks, maybe. Perhaps a few strippers."​

The flickering halted on the crimson skinned, yellow-eyed image of a Pureblood. The tendrils that hung from his face quivered as he contorted a mocking frown. "Oh, so the summons wasn't for me?" The frown crept into a thin, wide smile. "I should have figured. Dark Council probably never wants to see my face-" his visual shifted into the heir again. "-ever again. Though, the dread it invokes is quite exquisite, wouldn't you say?" He laughed. Even in this state, it all still felt beneath him, regardless of his clear failure. This would normally be the part where he assured Adrian that it was all part of his plan, but he knew Adrian was one of the few living who weren't that stupid. "Speaking of Dark Council..." He stroked his chin, fingers phasing through to the inside of his face. "How is Telis Taharin doing? I've managed to see fragments from my-"

"Alas, I am quite busy. Rampaging Jedi and all that. I don't suppose you'd like to wait in the corner?"​

Again, the spirit wailed with unearthly laughter. "Jedi? On Korriban? So it's been that long, has it? Time has a way of being illusive when it no longer holds any sway." The spirit glided backward a step's distance. "I was surprised that you hadn't joined me yet, all things considered and my previous statements withstanding. Though-" He paused, looking up towards the ceiling of the tomb as if performing an unsavory farsight into the strife outside. "It may not be too much longer." He looked around. "So is that why you're hiding in the Tomb of-" Who's tomb was this again? Did it matter? Wasn't Avernus's, at the very least. "Whoever this is? Out of sight of our dualistic kin, hm?"

 

[Kir Dantos]

MAVERICK​

OBJECTIVE II: ON THE ROAD TO KWAY TEOW
FELUCIA, ONE KLICK FROM THE CAPITAL
ARMOUR | ORANGE LIGHTSABER
MIDNIGHT COMPANY, 104TH "WOLFPACK" BATTALION
FIGHT OR DIE
ALLIES: Maynard Treicolt | Amon Vizsla | Loske Treicolt | Djorn Bline
ENEMIES: Eldaah Aderyn | Ruek Tast

​

Not the best start to a major offensive.

He woke up a throbbing, stabbing pain in his forehead. Forcing himself awake, he pried his eyes open, surveying the likely irreparable transport. Troopers all around him seemed to be shaking themselves awake, save for the few troopers and pilot that sat slumped lifelessly in their positions. Kir knew that the landing zone was hot, that the flak would be the death of them. It was all a mess. Looked like it was time to regain his trooper's admiration after that disastrous start.

He pulled himself up, placing two raw and coarse hands on the blast door. "Could do with some help boys." He mentioned, attempting to get them up and going through some good old tough love. Seemed to work for Maynard anyways. With some fervour, they assisted him, then gradually, the blast door began to make way for the unit before tumbling to the ground with a large thud.

Kir gazed into the distance at the Alliance vehicles approaching the sprawling city which was about to become a warzone. At the Academy, he'd heard stories of Kway Teow in the history books, how it'd been the sight of many battles, a perpetually awake city that was never easily captured by any galactic power. It took blood sweat and tears, and it was going to be a long road. It wasn't too dissimilar to the Braxant Run Campaign, where he'd reached new understandings of his role as a Jedi. Perhaps he might reveal some hidden capability to lead effectively.

A trooper headed over to him, slightly hobbling. "Are you alright Sergeant?" He inquired, genuinely concerned. "Not too bad Lieutenant. I've got a status confirmed."

"Go ahead."

"We're around a klick away from the city sir, shouldn't take us too long to get there, we should make it within the hour if we're quick."

He took a pair of macrobinoculars from his utility belt, zooming in for a better resolution. Shady figures which seemed to be running were supposedly heading into the city. "Looks like we've missed the fun people, but we can still join if we're quick." Kir suddenly felt a rush of vigour as he looked on toward the city, maybe this didn't have to be so bad, a "blessing in disguise" as he had been taught.

The padawan hit the ignition button near the bottom of his lightsaber, an orange blade shooting out the top. He called for the troop to move with him as he began the long trudge through the hostile undergrowth. The blessing in diguise seemed to now be turning into a false friend. What surprised him most as the traversed cautiously was the bright colours of Felucia for a planet where even the plants seemed to have a hidden agenda, lethal poison most likely oozing through their roots. Colour was something he'd usually associate with beautiful expression. But not here. Here, vibrance meant death.

Many of the marines constantly peered over their shoulders. The planet was known for it's... bellicose fauna. Stories circulated of hordes of marines being picked off by vicious flying manta. He hoped to the Force that they were just stories, though reason told him otherwise. Other than the sheer terror of their situation, morale seemed to be reasonably high, many of the marines took to singing hoarse renditions of 'It's a Long Way to Coruscant'. He even joined in for a while, before deathly silence returned.

Suddenly, a rustling in the trees, accompanied by a deep low growl. They all gravitated closer together, Kir pulling his lightsaber closer to himself. It burst out from a nearby shrub, towering over them all, with no regard for the poisonous flora it trampled in it's wake. It was reptilian, large and imposing, with drool dripping from it's razor-sharp fangs which went just over its lower jaw. Short arms with slightly serrated claws that it looked quite keen to use. The creature stared down at them for a moment, face to face. It had murder in its eyes.

The Jedi way was to attempt to tame it, but he felt no positive energy coming from the creature, no indication that it wanted to be tamed. Just as he had finished assessing it, it made a heavy lunge for him, sensing it in the force, he leaped back, the creature just clipping him as he jumped which made him tumble to the ground. Kir felt globules of blood running down his forehead. The Jedi had taught him that killing a defenceless living being was wrong. The rancor didn't seem defenceless, but perhaps it might've been scared, which he immediately doubted. Marines all around him opened fire, which seemed to annoy it more than anything.

It swiped a marine, sending the trooper flying into a tree, same with another. Deciding enough was enough, he stumbled to his feet, holding his lightsaber up, injured but okay. The creature moved swiftly to evade fire, screeching angrily at the Company. Feeling that enough was enough he screamed out, "HEY BIG GUY, OVER HERE!" It came with purpose, rumbling the ground as it went. Swinging once more, Kir met the arm with a slash from his lightsaber, lopping off the Rancor's arm. It screeched out into the jungle in pain and agony.

Hoping that no living creature was vicious by choice, he placed a hand out, as the rancor attempted a reprisal. He closed his eyes, remembering that the force was in every living thing, in the plants, in the marines around him, in the Rancor. Kir channeled that same energy through himself and focused it on the rancor, it felt rejuvenating, feeling it course through his veins. Slowly but surely, the animal began to calm, backing away before lolloping off disconsolately.

The company adjourned the occasion with whoops and a few cheers as he sighed in relief. They continued on their long walk, praying that no more surprises came their way.

Around halfway through, he attempted to contact the rest of the force, putting the com unit on his gauntlet to his mouth. "Wolfmother this is Wolfcub, do you copy?" He desperately hoped for an answer. "Wolfmother are you there?" Cold static was the reply. They were on their own for this one, despite being relatively independent for a padawan, he still did like to have the authority of his master there for some moral support. Ingenuity was all he had at the moment.

After about a gruelling kilometre of walking, Kway Teow was in focus. No more surprises popped out, yet he felt paranoid, and traumatised by his experience. His troops lay in a dangerous resting place. No time for mourning in a warzone, he'd had to learn that the hard way.

Crouching by a tall tree, he took the binoculars once more, focusing on the raging battle. They all took a moment to rest, contemplating that a new battle awaited, one that would be much more gruelling. But they all looked to one another, confidence unwavering in their hearts, confidence in each other.

Kir raised up his lightsaber, heading for the city, torrents of blaster bolts headed for them as they moved. He'd found a newfound confidence in himself, one that he hadn't recognised.

"Wolfmother, this is Wolfcub, sorry we're late, hope you saved some for us."

​

 

[Maple Harte]

Protecting her Padawan. Allyson Locke did her position as a master credit by sending a push that made Maple use her natural superhuman speed and reflexes to dodge it, keeping aim on them. (She had never understood how she had acquired them. Nothing in her genetics indicated abnormalities.)

'Ursula' had never stressed that. A Marksman was supposed to stand on their own two feet, and fight like a Wolverine. Or at the very least an irritated Liam Neeson.

(90's X-Men Animated Series Theme Plays for a few seconds)

(Cutaway of Qui Gon killing Emil Blonsky in Rob Roy)

As a Marksman, she was supposed to be deeply familiar with the tactics of the enemy. Against a Sith, sheer brute force and cheating were often necessary. It was best to use a blend of Sith Assassin and Mandalorian tactics for fighting Sith.

For Jedi though...go for the Apprentice. Go for them ruthlessly.

Maple began letting off Flechette shots aimed at the general direction of Zaavik Perl . Not aimed precisely. But enough that he could not evade them easily. Putting the Padawan's life in danger made more softy Masters react to protect them.

Gnox the Insatiable seemed to like his meat tenderized. She idly wondered what his toothpick bill was. Vaylin was still imputing commands while her end of the game was paused, so Maple advanced, trying to provoke either the padawan or the master into making a mistake by ripping the debris from what Gnox destroyed and flinging it as shrapnel at Zaavik's head.

 

[Vaylin]

Location: Korriban - Sith Academy
Allies: Gnox the Insatiable | Maple Harte
Enemies: Allyson Locke | Zaavik Perl
Objective: Hunt the Corellian, and her Little Padawan too.
Equipment: Armour & Dual Blades
________________________________________________________________________
​

Vaylin strode along the rafters, stalking her prey from above as they were further swarmed. One was a human female, her identity a mystery to the Zabrak but she was confident the stranger wasn’t part of the Sith Empire. But she wasn’t about to disrupt someone who was seemingly after the Corellian Jedi too. The other was a beast, much more fitting amongst the Sith. Vaylin had heard of another that had been stalking the Academy halls, following the tracks left by the intruders. Gnox was his name, if she had heard correctly.

A part of her wanted to argue, to claim the Padawan as her own mark for this fight. But there would be other times to hunt the boy down.

Provided he didn’t become Gnox’s meal today.

The Zabrak let out a humourless chuckle at Zaavik’s response. “Oh, he’s most certainly your Padawan, Locke. What did you do? Pick him out of a line up of mimicries?” No denying the young Jedi Padawan held a similar sense of humour as Allyson. Although was it something rubbed off on him, or was that part of the reason why he had been chosen?

Vaylin looked forward to finding out one day.

“I’m afraid you’ll find very little meat on that one’s bones, but then it’s not like Allyson is much better either.”

The Zabrak moved her head to the side as a destroyed security camera came flying towards it. She uncurled two fingers from around her left blade, and caught the debris with the Force. “So, that’s how you want to play it?” The soulless sockets of the Zabrak’s mask lit up with white flame, and the aforementioned camera became a fiery ball before it was hurled straight back towards the Corellian.

As Gnox blasted the console with lightning, Vaylin began to toss fireballs down towards Allyson, throwing an occasional one towards Zaavik to keep the woman on her toes. For the time being, the Zabrak remained above attacking her foe from afar. Between the Jedi, Gnox and Maple it was far too crowded down below.

 

[Dimitri Voltura]

ALLIES: Darth Strosius | Other Sith ​

ENEMIES: GA/NIO
ENGAGING: Kenth Ordo | Karn Syndulla

GEAR: ​

Spoiler

Cortosis-weave and Force imbued armour | Lightsaber | Force imbued Sith Sword​

Interesting how one could be more like the Jedi than the other one.

Dimitri had some respect for Karn Syndulla for trying to save a comrade's life despite his own being in danger. From his own experience, those were usually the ones that were harder to corrupt. Dimitri may have been a bloodthirsty warrior once, but after centuries of life, he had learnt how to commend a steadfast Light Side wielder.

The brazen ones were a different matter, however.

Completely bloated by the Dark Side, the Sith Lord turned his amber gaze on Kenth Ordo who had stepped up to the plate and had called a challenge to Dimitri. He sighed.
"You come to our hallowed place, desecrating it, and yet you demand me to make a move? How far the Jedi Order has fallen." Dimitri said, shaking his head. He still did not feel exceptionally violent. Maybe Eenia Vahn was rubbing off on him. But he still did not let his guard down as he faced the assailants.

He ignited his lightsaber while directing the Hounds with his free hand to cordon off the area and be ready to attack, but kept one by his side. He then approached the brave soul that had readied himself for a duel.
"It's not too late, Jedi. You can still walk away." Dimitri told him, but he knew the man in front of him would not back down. Instead he told the Sith that it was his move. Dimitri sighed. "Very well."

With a step, Dimitri moved in a blur, with the unnatural ability that being an Energy Vampire gave him, ending up behind his assailant. In the same movement, he swung his blade at Kenth Ordo 's neck. All the while he kept the Force ready to react on a moment's notice, the Tuk'ata staying close enough as well to react when needed. Dimitri's senses were also open and aware of where his other enemies were.

 

[Onrai]

Enemy: Ripley Kühn

Upon the door opening, Vanessa would be there, arms crossed with a pout as she looked at the Jedi in question. "Really? You came through here without masking your Force presence?" The goddess sighed in frustration. "I've been doing this for a long time. You could at least check to see if anything's in the next room if you're going to be so careless." She popped her fingers. "Alright, let's get the initial introductions over. I am the goddess Onrai. What's your name?"

She was certainly eager to get the conflict started, especially given the lack of formality usually addressed in situations like this.

 

[Takui]

NEW JEDI ORDER

OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY | POST III

EQUIPMENT: Blaster Rifle | Armor

SOMEWHERE NEAR THE VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS

​

He felt the adrenaline rushing through him as he flew through the air, violently aware of the massive monolith that got bigger with every second. His eyes darted around, looking for something, anything to grab hold of; but in the moment where his life started to flash before his eyes, an equal and opposite power jilted and halted his forward momentum.

Taku let out a ragged breath as his heart beat in his throat. He could have died. By all rights, he should have. But the Force seemed to have something different in mind. Kill the Tuk'ata, the senior Knight commanded. It wasn't a Sith, but it was thrall to one. A creature born of Korriban, innately twisted by the malign power dormant there. It wasn't human, and had no concept of mercy, grace, or redemption.

He hit the sand, rolled heels over head and landed on one knee. With a sharp exhale, Taku blew out the nervous thoughts that plagued him. While he didn't know the Force in any intimate way, he knew enough.

Anxiety had always been a problem for Takui. He had learned from his mother various methods to combat it, ways to calm himself under immense pressure, and little mantras to bring himself a shred of peace when his mind was consumed by constant struggle.

Keep your eyes on what's in front of you.

He snapped one eye shut and took another breath. His body started to grow still, to the point where it only shifted with each breath he took. The drumbeat in his ears began to slow to keep time as he fingered the trigger.

The crosshairs stopped on a Tuk'ata as it lunged at Karn, in the air as the blast took it in the left eye. Life faded from the beast, but its body continued on a collision course with the Twi'lek Jedi.

One.

Taku pulled back on the mechanism that controlled the rifle's rate of fire. The semi-automatic mode allowed for multiple shots at lower power, and while that was enough to kill the first hound when it hit, the single shot had significantly more stopping power. Now that he wasn't mobile, it was ideal.

There's wind drag down here, but it's far less impactful than the ride on the speeder bike. I can adjust for that, easy. Next shot will be on target.

Taku exhaled again and took aim.

Karn Syndulla | Kenth Ordo
Dimitri Voltura​

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran Rarr

Location: Arriving at Valley of Kings, sorry for being late :-(
Objective: Kill Sith and eat waffles, and we're all out of waffles. (open to all interactions)
Allies: GA Personnel
Enemies: The Sith, Ingrid L'lerim (RP planned), AMCO

• Armor: Katarn Mk. III Light Powered Armor
• Clothing: Katarn Undersuit, Bantha Load-bearing system
• Primary Weapons: 10mm Pulse Rifle
• Secondary Weapons: Death-Dealer Handcannon (drop holster, right hip - loaded with Sith-Killer Ammunition), Pulse Pistol (chest holster) Lightsaber (clipped to waist), Lightsaber Pike (strapped to back), Wrist Mounted Blaster (right wrist), Tactical Vibroblade (right boot), Incendiary Grenades, Cryo-Ban Grenades

The Imperialis came out of hyperspace just outside of the Horuset System, for once arriving exactly where he had intended it to. The overhaul that he'd paid a literal fortune for on Vandalhelm appeared to have taken care of the ancient starship's unnerving habit of dropping out of hyperspace literally anywhere it wasn't supposed to be. Beltran sat in the co-pilot's seat, allowing D07 - his new astromech to pilot from the main console. Beltran was a capable enough pilot, as he had to pass flight school like all Antarian Rangers did, but he got no particular enjoyment from it. He'd never developed the level of attachment he'd seen some people have with their ships.

He liked weapons.

Knives and swords in particular, though he did enjoy his hand-cannon and the way that it's .50 depleted baradium rounds blew most obstacles into little pieces. In short, he liked being up close and personal when he dealt death. There was more art to it then, more poetry in the bloodshed.

Beltran was late tot he party, he knew. That he partly blamed on all the red-tape he'd had to wade through in order to get himself attached to this operation. There was still some serious mistrust between the Rangers and the Galactic Alliance Military, owing to the death of the Duros Senator a few months ago at the hands of Sergeant Tulan Kor. That Beltran had been part of that mission, and in fact in the room when the Duros had been killed, had luckily been obscured enough that he hadn't faced any direct reprisal.

At the end of the day, their mission had been a success. The Duros Senator's slave trading ring had been broken, and Thal Mantis had been rescued. Unfortunately, Sergeant Kor had been forced to go on the run. Beltran had, in his possession the information that implicated the Senator, but thus far had not been able to find a safe haven to place it in GA hands. Part of his intention in joining this operation was to see if he could find someone within the Alliance he could trust.

As his ship made for Korriban's atmosphere, Beltran made sure that D07 gave the fighting a wide berth. Diverting power to the massive engines, the Imperialis was able to outrun almost anything that might try to come for him and he was banking that a small civilian craft with no offensive weaponry wouldn't make for much of a target anyway.

Once they entered the atmosphere, Beltran instructed his droid to make for the Valley of Kings. Beltran had learned in the begrudging briefing he'd received from GA military command, that a small group of strike teams were moving to reconnoiter the ancient area. These groups, made up mostly of Jedi and small groups of commandos were already moving through the massive valley, moving on their various objectives.

As the ship landed, altogether unmolested, Beltran closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The shroud of the Dark Side was intense here. It was both disconcerting and exhilarating at the same time. Since his meeting with the cloaked man, Beltran had opened his mind to the use of the Dark Side. After all, a tool was a tool. It was the wielder that determined whether it was used for good or ill. There had long be rumors of ancient crypts and powerful artifacts in this place, and as Beltran exited his ship, he wondered if he might also find one that might help him better understand the true nature of the Force.

For the moment, Beltran didn't have a good picture of the battle space. So he would open his comlink to all the GA frequencies that he'd been provided, listening for any units that might need support. In the meantime, he would choose a large and imposing structure-undoubtedly a tomb to some long dead Dark Lord (the one where Ingrid L'lerim and AMCO are, because plot ), and start walking toward it, his rifle at the ready and senses opened to all the energies swirling around him.

 

[Nida Perl]

Korriban Sith Academy - Roof
Writing With | Kyra Perl | Thirdas Heavenshield (Closed)

The Force ebbed and flowed like a storm at sea, Jedi and Sith drawing from its wellspring alike. Nida didn’t resist the motions as they rolled through her.

Until something prickled at her, like a thorn wedged in her thumb.

They were here. Kyra and Thirdas were here, and they were close. Through the ravage of war and great plumes of dust, their presence burned a steady path through the road and up the step of the academy. If she could feel them, they could feel her. Nida’s projection had lead them straight to her, like a moth to a lamp.

Head tilting upwards, her eyelids cracked open. Through slivers of vivid gold, she observed the heat-blistered skyline of Korriban and reached out to them.

I am here.

There was no sense in playing coy.

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity
Whilstone of Power|| Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian
Voice Sample

As the devout priestess before him reveled in the chance to express and exonerate her faith the Shaper let a brief smile paint his lips, glad to see one who showed an ancient such as himself due honor, though he wished it was in better times and they were not in the midst of swatting these Jedi scum from their spiritual heart. Inclining his head the Shaper would turn and begin to walk out toward where he had left Acharn embedded in the side of the Temple. "Excellent, come, we have work to do." As they walked the Shaper would extend his connection with the Force out to the Priestess, mentally communicating with her and causing the Dark Side to murmur and whisper to her as the voice of Typhojem themself. Burning the imagery of an exact ritual pattern into her mind, making it as familiar to her as her own breathe, her own heartbeat. She would need to know it as such for what was to come.

Once back where the Shaper's enhanced eyesight could see Acharn he calmly wrapped an arm around the priestess, drawing her close to his armored form, and a veil of darkness would shroud the two before they came to stand beside the spear upon the Temple's dust-swept roof. No doubt an exertion of the Dark Side able to be felt by the two beacons of light already there (Shaka Sunstar and Oceiros Sunstrider ). The Shaper, after all, could sense them and his eyes narrowed with venomous hate and he turned to the Priestess, giving her a severe look even as he bequeathed unto her the Sword of Ajunta Pall itself. His expression saying what words never could about how important her hold on it should be.

Reaching out with the Dark Side the Shaper formed the stone of the temple's roof into a small pedestal that would rest directly above the ritual chamber where Darth Carnifex dwelt. Moving between the pedestal, the Priestess and the Jedi the Shaper would motion to her with a hand. "Go, Chosen servant of Typhojem. Plant the sword there and inscribe the ritual, I shall snuff out these sputtering lights." Able to see Shaka and Oceiros with immense clarity due to his alchemical creations, the Shaper would not give either of them a warning, a word of antagonization. Instead his hatred for their trespass upon Korriban bubbled, frothed to the surface. Venomous words going unspoken on his lips as the Whilstones on his brow grew in their glowing intensity, providing the Jedi at least with some warning as three glowing lights could be seen in the flustering dust storm.

In the next moment would the Shaper extend an arm and, sensing Shaka to be the more powerful of the interlopers. decided to cut the chaff from the Jedi by extending his arm toward the Padawan. However, the Shaper saw the bomb he carried a moment before the lightning left his hands, and, in a moment of quick-thinking, changed his target to unleash a power lance of Force Lightning towards Shaka. The blast purposely aimed not at the Jedi himself, but at the temple just in front of him, breaking the rock apart and causing the stone to erupt in dust and shrapnel. Not allowing the Jedi the opportunity to stop the Lightning with his weapon as he drew Urfael from his hip. The ancient, deadly blade sliding from it's scabbard with an evil hiss that hungered for life, hungered to drink the life of Jedi, hungered to extinguish their Light..... one way or another.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Exiled Grandmaster Coren Starchaser
Allies: Jed, Ryv
Enemies: Sith, Darth Carnifex
Surprised: Zark San Tekka
​

Korriban was darkness, but for Coren, there were varying shadows in the darkness. As a Jedi Master, he knew that it was up to him and his own to be the light. The smallest light in the shadows shined so bright, and Coren planned to bring the spot light. As he felt his comrade, Ryv , stand and face the world. He was unsure if the Knight, the Sword of the Jedi, had been on Korriban before. For Coren, this was… partial returning. But not a happy one. Never a happy one. He could feel the darkness and had to focus on keeping his own mind clear.

“Just focus. There is darkness, but its like the sea, ebbs and flows.” The Jedi Master said, in a slow, low tone. He was looking to Ryv was they finally began walking. The concern of raised Sith from the dead did affect Coren but he kept on to this brief lesson. “You’ll feel it, spiraling, like a black hole, dark and powerful, but the source of the darkness, instead of the end.” They continued to walk.

And that was where he could feel it, the life blast of energy in the Force, that beacon. Zark?

That’s… not possible… Is it? Maybe Ryv was right, maybe this whole mission was a trap. Pulling on the battle meld, and his own reserves of the Force. A blast of his own energy, partially announcing he was here, but he had it in his mind that Darth Carnifex knew that already, but if someone like Zark San Tekka or Elise were here, the one left behind by the Concord, perhaps it would give them aid.

“We will be fine. Remember your training. Remember that theirs is the way of suffering.” Coren continued as they stepped forward, and he could feel the tension, the torture of another Jedi. His hand was on his lightsaber.

He heard the voice of Carnifex and the blade rested dark in his hand. “Taking cues from Voratios, I see?” His eyes shot to Ryv and to Carnifex, waiting for the other, prepared to move now.

 

[Ashelia Solidor]

O B J E C T I V E | Felucian Hell.
F O C U S | Bayaz , Zanvic "Ironhide" Dak
T H E M E | Here.
V O I C E | Theme.
G E A R | Armor, Spear,
Pistol, Necklace, Lightsaber​

A single organism of beauty and grace, that was the way she saw a planet such as Felucia. Which, most likely, was the most perfect creation that evolution has created in the entire galaxy, it reminded her of Valythor, the elzeri homeland. But the Motherland shone under the stars, unlike felucian flora that glittered under the sun, even still, its fetid fungi woods, its exquisite lush green fields were of such majesty that caused Ashelia to shiver all over her body, and the Living Force ran through this planet like a waterfall, strong and unyielding, colorless as bare stone, under her violet eyes, this was Atar’s truest creation, for it carried the will of his heart, laid stripped of lies to the naked eye to see, if he chose so. It was curious to her thinking of how her sister, Lunafreya, had chosen to rule over a similar planet fighting for the New Imperials, something that gave hope in her heart that not all between them was lost. How many years has been since she came here? This was her third time on this planet and she didn’t felt any regret on this, once she came here to be trained by her late master, while the last time it was under her father’s bidding, to track the Holocron of Many. She never found out whatever happened to the boy that joined her on this quest, nor did she found out what did Iedolas Aldercapt Solidor did with that piece of Sith ancient history.

This time Ashelia came for different reasons. Officially her job was to meditate on Felucia until the Force had been revealed as to her the tenets of what actually being a Lord Marshall for the Knights of Obsidian, while non-officially, this was her last trial. To fight alongside mercenaries, murderers, assassins that called themselves soldiers and assist them in defending this planet and defeating its invaders, worst than that, Ashelia was charged with fighting alongside the Sith Empire who’s conquering methods were not entirely called as orthodox, nor merciful if that actually mattered. “Nor bloodless.”, she thought to herself but said nothing a single word when she was told of her quest, for Ashelia believed in duty, and had no quarrels with those that studied the dark arts of Atar, for, in her opinion, both Jedi and Sith were foolish creatures too entrapped on actual dogmas to feel the Force in its entirety. The Solidor chose to arrive a few days before what was expected of the enemy forces to arrive on Felucia, she wanted to walk those woods barefoot, to bathe naked in its vibrant waters, and run on the back of magnificent creatures. One day she was almost devoured by one of the jungle rancors, famed on this planet, and it wasn’t on fair terms that both of them chose to part ways. Still, her little holiday was not without losses, but she actually gained something out of this, and riding on the backs of gelagrubs was always a real pleasure. These days were to be her fondest memories of probably her last time on Felucia.

“INCOMING!”, some soldier roared at her side, as a platoon of them were blown by enemy missiles, chunks of dirt and blood flew like confetti tossed in the wind. By her side, the technician started to shout, as volleys of blue bursts of light started to run above their heads, and the captain simply faced Ashelia straight on her face, and despite its helmet, she knew what that nod he gave her meant. The elzeri closed both of her eyes and breath deeply, sighing not so long afterward and opening both eyes, with the resolve of Destiny stamped in the depths of her seasoned orbs.
“Who passed, methought, the melancholy flood... With that grim ferryman which poets write of, unto the kingdom of perpetual night.”, she chanted proudly in a calmer tone of her lovely voice, her eyes set on the gigantic mushroom tree in front of her. This rhyming from the ancient texts of her Church always made her feel better than she ever was, and gave her the courage that she could never find in herself on her time alive in this plane of existence. As lightning herself, Ashelia tumbled backward by lifting her body in the air, as lightning itself she started to run in zigzag, fleeing from the enemy fire and slamming the blunt parts of her golden spear against the soldiers on the areas in which she would run to, three knees and four spines she ended it up breaking on the blunt force of her weapon, for she knew what that cracking sound meant all too well. As lightning was to thunder, so was she.

Jumping mid-air Ashelia gave one large spin with her body, as both hands slide through her halberd and slammed its blade against the charge of the golden beam coming straight at her. The elzeri could feel her entire bulk being dragged back, leaving the trail of her feet on the muddy slime, as the spear absorbed the amount of energy shot against its metallic outside, the female raised her hand in the air, her eyes started to run the field looking the one that fired against. “There you are.”, the two thick eyebrows on her forehead joined together, and as Ashelia took a step forward, Suttaryn started to spin on her hands, right in front of her body. On the most poetic, charming, and singing voice, the Solidor made herself heard as she shouted to the skies, with the spear on her hands spinning faster by the word.
“Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death, and death will have his day!”, she started to run, like zigzag on the field, with spear spinning on her hands, and as she jumped towards her next sliding, Ashelia used both feet to support her violent act before her next movement, tossing the spear towards the enemy troops. “Let lightning and thunder come to be, as golden as the sun, says me!”, bursts of electricity ran through the gold-bathed surface as the spear would sink itself on floor or flesh and burst electricity to its surrounding, not a deadly charge, only enough to hurt, and for her to bring about Urrax itself.

Named after the infamed mounts of the Silver Twins of House Solidor, from almost ten thousand years ago, the gun was the thunder and she was the storm. The first and the last. Or so what B’nargin meant, and despite Ashelia Solidor having done all in her power not to kill anyone just yet, as she had demonstrated by breaking spines and bones, she was now forced to resort to actual violence.

“Tsc... “, as a muxoxo ran through her lips just before she pressed the trigger, and used her legs on the tree to bend her knees and jump with all her sway, putting herself back in the air and gently clasping her finger against the trigger unleashing its booming thunderous explosion. She wasn’t aiming at the one that shot against her, but on his fellow troops, and despite missing the non-lethal area she had her eye (as if .48 calibers had any non-lethality on them), and blowing a hole inside his helmet, piercing through the backside of his skull and making blood rain on the floor around her foe, the bullet continued going, all the way hitting another soldier right on his shoulder. Her goal was terror, her weapon was deception, and hers was the will of a dragon, and as Ashelia brought her fingers against her lips, she whistled, loudly, as a piercing sound that cut through the woods, and was almost immediately answered by her new hissing friend. Ashelia fell on her feet, and raised the gun in the air once again, shouting at her opponent. “We cannot hold mortality's strong hand.” Lifting her free hand in the air, Ashelia planned on pushing her spear back after it ruptured in electricity when she hit anything solid, but with Urrax, the elzeri female did only one thing, raising the gun towards her foes, hammering it, and preparing to shoot again, as her voice sang on the field of ravens once more, finishing her rhyme. “For in that sleep of death what dreams may come?”

 

[Zark San Tekka]

VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS
TERRORS FROM BEYOND
Hal Vaiken Kenth Ordo Aramis Sunstrider Karn Syndulla
Darth Prazutis Darth Strosius Dimitri Voltura

​

Zark was shackled upright. His breath was labored and the temple's cold stone walls offered no comfort. Something about his experience during the power failure unnerved him. When he touched the Force, when he reached out...had someone reached back? It was an impossible hope, the Light on Korriban. This was a world of such crushing darkness that no Jedi could hope to survive. He wondered if the Force was trying to tell him something. Perhaps destiny had not abandoned the Jedi Master after all.

"Zark. I have brought something for you."

Then again...beholding the terrible visage of Darth Prazutis the Shadow Emperor, Master Zark was forced to admit that things were looking pretty grim. Ancient Sith runes scrawled across his flesh flared bright crimson in malevolent sympathy with such a powerful darkside creature. He choked down a scream when they burned him from the inside out. Zambrano had seen to it that even his psychic presence caused the Jedi boundless agony.

"We are...luminous beings," he rasped in defiance, "Not this crude matter. What could you show me that would change anything?"

"Victory."

Prazutis produced not a lightsaber nor some devious new torture implement but a simple glass vial. Zark knew what it contained before the Dark Lord could give voice to his fears. Terrors from beyond. The Gree banished them from our galaxy aeons ago after unwittingly tapping into their far realm. Now a Sith Emperor sought to form some unholy pact with the Palestar. Evidently he believed he had succeeded.

"Whose victory?" Zark asked, "Yours? Or theirs?"

He knew it was no use. As a Sith Lord Darth Prazutis was blind to how the darkside had eaten away at the man he once was. How could a Jedi convince his mortal enemy that some powers in this universe simply could not be controlled? Zark was restrained by the Sith's acolytes while their master unleashed the vial and contaminated his prisoner with a single drop of extra-dimensional energy. The results were...extraordinary.

​

"You are a worm through time. The thunder song distorts you. Through a mirror, inverted is made right. Leave your insides by the door. Push the fingers through the surface into the wet. You’ve always been the new you. We stand around you while you dream. You can almost hear our words but you forget. This happens more and more now. We build you until nothing remains. The egg cracks and the truth will emerge out of you. You are home. You remind us of home. Hurts to be happy. An earworm is a tune you can’t stop humming in a dream. You have always been here, the only child. A copy of a copy of a copy. The picture is you holding the picture. You want to listen. You want to dream. You want to smile. You want to hurt. You don’t want to be."

Whatever was now wearing Master Zark's skin tore his shackles loose from the ancient stonework that bound him and shattered the heavy neural band that dampened his powers. He snapped the neck of one apprentice with a thought before a crimson lightsaber now in his hands plunged out through the other's chest. An honor guard of Sith Knights stepped forward to defend their master but Prazutis held up a hand and smiled.

Zark opened his eyes.

He was no longer on Korriban. The Jedi Master could tell right away that this was not another one of Zambrano's mind tricks. He was standing on the shores of the Black Lake. This was the Dreaming Dark. He could sense something underneath. Something very old that was waking up. He sensed something else. Shadow figures loomed behind him, the only signs of any activity in an otherwise dead forest. He should not be here. No one should be here.

Light pierced the gloom. It seemed almost familiar. He reached out.

Emanating through the temple chamber, a wave of light conjured by Coren Starchaser failed to have any meaningful effect on Darth Prazutis or his Knights from so far away. Whatever had taken over Zark stopped talking. His eyes no longer glowed. He was back on Korriban. He was holding a lightsaber in one hand. It was a red junksaber with a crossguard hilt, but sometimes a Jedi had to make do. Despite his harsh treatment he no longer felt weak at all. He felt...infused.

Earthquakes shook the temple.

"I have brought something for you, Shadow Emperor."

Master Zark crossed blades with the first of Zambrano's knights.

"Justice."