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

[Aveline Cuiléin]

-

LOCATION: Korriban, Sith Academy
EQUIPMENT: Meditation Amulet, Cosaint Bracers, Simple Jedi Robes
TAGS: Jax Thio | Pom Stych Tivé​

While the world seemingly collapsed all around her, Aveline remained hunkered down, staying low and taking cover. Any moment now her life could be snuffed out by a debris hitting her at a high pace. She was fortunate. She could hear Jax crying out her name. She felt the calm energies he was sending her way, but in the middle of all this chaos they felt out of place. Still, he managed to help her to her feet. He pulled her by the hand, down the very steps they had fought so hard to ascend. Suddenly she stopped.

All around them lay the fruits of the sorceress' labours. Shattered stone statues, broken steps, debris from destroyed ships... And bodies. Every single soldier that had disembarked with them lay dead. She had not seen them fall, but by the time she got up there was none but Jax left to rise with her. Friend and foe alike, it was just them left. With no escape in sight, no transport ship waiting to take them away, what was there left but to despair?

"It was all for nothing" words spoken in hushed tones, but Jax would have heard them. "If we leave they died for nothing" Somehow the look she gave Jax managed to make her look both more tired and determined than he had ever seen her. "We have to fight on. For them. We have to fight on" Was she repeating it for herself? To make her believe? Or was it for Jax? Did it really matter? Their platoon was wiped out. All of them. What was left for them to do was to choose the manner of their own deaths. She had never imagined the sands of Korriban would have been her last. "So be it." So karking be it. Motherfething kath hounds.

Aveline turned her back on Jax, and ran. Ran back up the stairs, back into the temple. With all the soldiers dead there were no one left to stop her, as she charged. They still had their mission, infiltrate the Academy, find and destroy and dark artefacts. If unable to destroy them, capture them for later destruction. But once inside her world shattered once more. The Mind Meld broke. Suddenly she felt more alone than she ever had. Almost as if she had taken their combined efforts and minds for granted, now they were stripped away. Truly she could feel the cold touch of the Sith Academy. It wrapped its dark tendrils around her mind.

It was all too much. She almost just broke down and huddled up, but somehow she carried on. With no care for direction or where she was going, she ran on. This section seemed strangely abandoned, but suppose the reinforcements sent to their previous position had been taken out too. It did not even matter if she was heading in the right direction. She was going to die either way. Wherever she went would only bring it about sooner. And just as well. Aveline wasn't sure she could take any more of this.

 

[Darth Strosius]

TSE ALLIES: Dimitri Voltura / Ulrich
GA ENEMIES: Kenth Ordo / Aramis Sunstrider / Karn Syndulla / Takui
LOCATION: Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban
OBJECTIVE III: Kill the defilers and guard the Valley
EQUIPMENT: Lightsaber
Currently Engaging: Hal Vaiken
-----------------------------------------

Alisteri was very clearly on the backfoot in this fight. Even without an injured arm and an enemy that was currently fuel by rage, he was far from the best acolyte with a lightsaber. So, it was fairly obvious that he couldn't hold out against the Jedi's assault forever.

Thankfully, he wouldn't have to.

His lightsabre went flying away just as intended, the masked man stumbling back in surprise. That was unexpected. For a moment the smirk fell from his face, his eye widening as there was now nothing between him and the blue blade of his enemy; his gaze shifting to his still-activated sabre now laying on the ground out of his reach.

"Well would you look at that, you gave in to your rage and you've beaten me." He took another step back, keeping his voice steady as he did his best to subtly reach out with the Force and grip the hilt of his weapon.

"Kill me and you'll be left alone on a planet where you have no allies, spare me and I can help you achieve power beyond your wildest dreams. Revenge, credits, blood, women, men, whatever you want."

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

Equipment:
Warrior's Skin
Graugothian Chain
The Inferno

SECOND SECTION OF THIS POST WILL CONTAIN A GLOBALLY RELEVANT EVENT

In an instant The Jedi had become a blur of light and shadow , the lesser's body propelled through the darkness between the two of them by a surge of righteous fury. Sulfuric eyes slammed between the sides of the Graug's skull as he struggled to keep track of the knight barreling towards him. Darth Vulcanus, Seventh Day Emperor, Great Khaan of Gratos and God of The Graug, had allowed his arrogance to blind him as he always had. Then, all at once, he felt it again. Felt the lightside pouring forth from this Jedi's body - something beyond the realm of the physical powering his movements and fueling his resolve. Then, suddenly, Vulcanus felt it.

Fear.

"Destroy your Empire, we will"

The phantom voice of the long-dead Grand Master burrowed into his ears as Ryv's lightning struck. Sparks and molten shrapnel exploded into existence, burning red paths through the darkness as the Jedi Knight's saber met its mark - etching a red-hot streak across the ultrachrome surface of the beast's warrior skin. The Great Khaan stumbled backward towards his blade and watched as tendrils of blue lightning arced across the stone cobbles and reached out towards him. Again he felt something deep. Something clawing at the most primal parts of his soul.

His reptilian eyes focused on his opponent in the brief seconds before the next attack came.

"Strong in The Darkside are you, but weak still you are"

Gone was the Kiffar who challenged his strength - replaced by yet another illusion of this planet that had seen his greatest triumph and his greatest failure. Below him, far below him, where Ryv once stood was the phantom of Grand Master Effet - tendrils of electric judgement flowing through his feet and into the stone. The small creature glared at him with that defiant stare, his green ears perked as the sand turned to glass at his feet. Sand? Yes. No longer did Vulcanus see the temple around him, he only saw the vast wasteland outside it where he had become both a slayer and a broken beast riddled with weakness.

Korriban did not forget so easily.

The blade in the phantom's hand mimicked the truth of reality and as Ryv swung the blade to lobotomize Vulcanus, so too did the illusion. In a jolt of primal fear, his mind rippling with the old scars the Grandmaster had filled him with all those decades ago, the beast brought his hand up to defend himself. The force pooled in his hand and as the blade struck at his palm The Force bounced it back...but not quickly enough.

A burst of power. A flurry of sparks. A beast's howl of pain.

The tip of Ryv's saber dug deep into the twisted flesh of The Seventh Day Emperor, his ashen hide vanishing in a puff of burning embers and putrid smoke. The beast stumbled back and the illusion of the dead Grand Master - the mocking mask that Korriban wore - taunted him as it brought down its saber to severe his knee.

"and weak shall you be as you perish"

Again the blade was refused a full severing blow, the majority of the saber leaving only a burning trench of ultrachrome in its wake - yet still the tip met flesh as strike was followed through. A burst of flaming flesh. A cloud of putrid smoke. Another beastly howl. Vulcanus dropped to a knee and at last the phantom's blade swung through with what was to be its fourth and final strike - to decapitate the Graug Warlord and end his worthless life as it should have been so many years ago.

Molten hide splattered the cobbles and a screeching cry of a lightsaber filled the temple chambers.

The cylinder of light sputtered and spat against thick claws and molten scales. Vulcanus' palm had driven into the saber's broadside, a fountain of sparks erupting from the point of contact as The Force displaced the immeasurable heat. Razor-like claws closed tight around the blade, seizing it as if it were nothing more than a child's plaything even as more sparks and fire shot into the surrounding temple. Vulcanus' face was to the ground, his other hand slowly tracing his right eye.

Agony burned into his skull as if a fire had been lit inside the bone itself. The beast's fangs gritted tightly, his scowl slowly raising until he faced the phantom - faced Ryv - once again. Black char surrounded the Sith Lord's right eye, which had turned into little more than a pool of crimson goo that drained down it's necrotic flesh. Vulcanus stared into darkness through his right eye and into the soul of his opponent with the other. Here he was again, facing the phantom who'd taken his power from him and buried him in insanity.

In his first life, before he was reborn as the Living God of Gratos, Vulcanus had lived everyday with a reminder of his inherent weakness. His right eye had been blinded by The Gods before his birth and he'd only known vision through it upon his rebirth. Now it was gone again...but it did not anger him.

It reminded him.

"Enough!"

With a sudden explosion of strength, Vulcanus ripped the lightsaber from the grasp of his opponent by the blade itself. Quickly he allowed the absorbed energy to course through his armor, turning the ultrachrome molten red for a brief moment before again the energy exited into the opposite hand. Then, just as quickly as he'd ripped the saber away, the beast snatched the illusion be the head - his palm smashing into its nose, claws digging into his skull and the absorbed energy searing into its flesh.

"I was a weakling when I last fought here, Jedi" the beast snarled as the illusion melted away - the Grand Master's green features dripping into non-existence and revealing the squirming Ryv beneath it, "Death did not weaken me - it purified me. I shed a mortal shell that did nothing but hold me back"

The beast's claws dug in deeper to the Kiffar's flesh, wisps of smoke rising from his skin as Vulcanus seared him with the energy he'd absorbed from the saber, "Power Jedi. In death I ascended because I am your greater. Your people will die and rot!" Vulcanus' voice rose to encompass the room, his working eye glowing with sickly hatred as the fear of his old life was strangled beneath his rage, "Because you whimper and mourn over meaningless lives - spend your days defending worms and maggots. The Graug conquer. I conquer."

Higher and higher the beast's voice rose, his claws drawing rivers of blood from Ryv's skull as he howled not just to Ryv, but to Korriban itself, "I have conquered planets! Conquered your masters! Conquered death! You have lived worthless! You will die worthless!"

Violently Vulcanus drug Ryv through the air with a single hand before his opposite arm shot upwards and grabbed a hold of his saber arm. The metal cried out under his titanic grip, the metal warping as he allowed his full strength to bare down upon it. "A trophy for my belt" were the last scathing words spoken before the metal screamed for the last time.

A wet snap filled the empty halls and then a quick, moist peeling before blood splattered the Graug's black armor. In one powerful motion Vulcanus jerked back on The Jedi's arm while throwing the rest of his limp body towards the farthest empty wall. A geyser of blood slicked the cobbles with pools of crimson as fleshy snaps cried out in chorus when strand of microscopic wire was pulled away from Ryv's nerve endings. The Dark Lord of Embers lifted his head to the sky in a bone shattering roar, Ryv's metal arm and bloody, mangled meat still hanging from his claws. The rest of the Jedi's still breathing body tumbled through the darkness to land where it may.

As if summoned by his booming voice the winds lurched and the room filled with the howls of Korriban - the darkness reeling away from the one it taunted so. Then, like a cyclone, the wind began tearing through the room - ripping away cobbles and throwing about stone. Blood of yet another Jedi had been spilled and the trap complete.

The Taming was upon them.

​

The blade of Ajunta Pall shuttered near Arctus Silmar ( Chasianna , Shaka Sunstar , Oceiros Sunstrider ) the blade glowing white. Then, without warning, the winds of Korriban shifted violently in direction - sending storm, sand and rubble tumbling in the direction of The Temple of Sacrifice. The blade cracked down the edge, the steel howling against the stone before it crumbled to dust and was carried away in a vortex of energy that guided now guided the storm. As the ashes of the sword were carried away the cell of howling wind collapsed upon itself - creating a vortex tunnel of dark energy that blew across the deserts of Korriban like a serpent slithering through the air.

Darth Prazutis would feel this as suddenly Korriban itself seemed to lurch, leeching away a portion of his power. As the ritual took was it desired from The Dark Lord and all those in the Valley of The Dark Lords ( Darth Strosius , Dimitri Voltura , Zark San Tekka , Takui , Hal Vaiken , Kenth Ordo ) would bare witness to the same phenomena. Without warning the storm's direction shifted and collapsed until only a long vortex of wind and energy, no larger than a man, stretched itself along Korriban's desert towards The Temple of Sacrifice.

Rubble, dust, debris and the like tumbled through the barren wasteland, pulled into the vortex by an unseen hand and subsequently launched through through time and space - becoming little more than atoms under the eclipsing energies within.

The same chaotic change played out across ritual sites dotted along Korriban's surface - sorcerers diving for cover as the fruits of their labor manifested into howling cyclones that pulled the pulled the darkside energies of everything around it into itself. Like living things these vortexes stretched themselves, becoming currents of darkside energy that converged on The Temple of Silence.

It was here that the full power of the taming was made manifest. Each of the vortexes from across Korriban joined as one, creating a cyclone that glowed with sickly blue energy. Lighting conjured from deep within the growing vortex, the spears of destruction striking at the sky as the shadow of this newly conjured storm eclipsed the barren wastes for miles in every direction. Within moments the vortex had grown so large that it towered above all else - a conduit of darkside energy that condensed the powers of Korriban into a controllable siphon.

The phantoms of the past dissolved. The storm raging across the planet faded. The power of Korriban itself melting away as it was leeched from the soil and trapped inside storm the ritual had summoned. This Great Vortex was the pinnacle of Sith control on Korriban. No longer would the darkside rule untamed by its masters. Every ounce of energy the planet held was now harvested within the storm. The vortexes that had spawned across Korriban were like veins to a heart, forever pumping the planets energy into the vortex where The Sith could harness its energies...call upon its power.

At once Sith across the world would be lifted by a new freedom. Korriban no longer weighed upon them...Korriban fed them.

The Taming was complete.

Now it was time to rid the surface of those who intruded. Now it was time to command the phantoms had dared defy The Sith.

The Sorcerers across Korriban reached into the veins of the vortex. They focused their minds on its power and commanded it forth. Commanded the spirits of The Darkside to rise.

The Ritual is now complete. The Storm ravaging Korriban Fades and is replaced by several "tunnels' of energy that feed a great vortex that that has appeared over The Temple of Sacrifice.

1. The Darkside no longer claws at those on Korriban unwarranted.

2. The Darkside siphoned into the Storm is much more potent and controlled - acting as a nexus.

3. Characters may now draw steady, controlled streams of darkside energy from the storm.

4. The Phantoms of Korriban have been siphoned along with their energy. Necromancers rejoice?

Carnifex Coren Starchaser Ryv

 

[Sanguine Nocturnal]

L O C A T I O N | Korriban
O B J E C T I V E | Hide and Seek.
T A G S | Veino Garn
G E A R | Lightsabers, Ring,
Necklace, Armor Of Virgo​

Her right arm hurled left cutting a trooper’s rifle, in half before swinging the other and cutting the head of the trooper on her left, raising the right blade from the melted rifle using the deadly edge on its tip to slice his face in half. When it was done, Sanguine noticed the heavy breathing that came out of her chest, more punctual than a clock on reminding her it was time for medicine, forcing her to shut down both blades and grab the pill bottle from her pocket, shoving two of those yellow buggers inside her mouth, chewing them as she walked back to the temple. Too much time in a laboratory, she would hate to admit this out loud, but the female was out of practice, that was when the lethan woman heard the voice calling out her name, could it be that it was her secret admirer from before? She hoped so, as the piercing pain in both her brains was lurking back in shadows, allowing her mind to think, sharper than before. ​

As both her golden orbs noticed the lingering cloud of smoke hanging in the entrance over the Temple. The Immortal Gods of the Sith should be thanked that she was not in charge of protecting that, otherwise, the Dark Lord would torture her for weeks to come for this tiny error on allowing someone to pass, if not killing her horrendously. Still, she approached slowly keeping her entire body out of the cloud, as she reached out with her arm enough for a few specks of its content to fall on her hand, pulling it back and taking her index finger to her mouth, licking its content from the tip of her red skin. Anyone with half a brain, which she had two, needed no xenochemistry degree, which she had alongside xenobiology, to know that this delicious smoke of death was ixetal cilona, or as its buyers best knew, death stick. ​

“Drug addict, are we?”, Sanguine asked in a voice, too low for him to hear, probably, which she knew it in her core but cared little, muttering to herself was a way of indulging her mind in having fun on her boring chores. “That’s okay, I've been known to dabble in narcotics as well.”, her head moved sideways as she backed down, looking over the field for the troopers that she had just killed. Leaning over their dead bodies, for the only problem in her opinion with soldiers was the fact they all looked the same, rifle, pistol, comlink, helmet, armor, and a belt filled with rations and grenades. Picking both belts from their dead bodies, the woman strapped them over her thin waist and kept two of them in her hands, and with one lightsaber over her hand, Sanguine swung her two fingers while keeping the thermal detonators strapped at her fingers, as she tossed her lightsaber, spinning in the air clearing a path at the smoke, immediately grabbing the other from her magnetic holder and storming in, launching the grenades already set to blow over two different directions. The problem with not finding an enemy on the current state of the galaxy was the options she had to consider, first, there was the matter of cloaking devices, flooding the stars, if it was one she would have issues to find it, but if this was something unlikely such as using the force to hide, she knew how vexing keeping this on could be on the body and how loud sounds and dreadful explosions could disrupt someone’s concentration. ​

But even so, the explosion would give something much more interesting, by spreading the dust all around and sticking it on one’s body, giving her a silhouette to be seen and cut down where it stood. Raising her free hand in the air, the twi’lek called upon the lightsaber she had tossed with the Force, as the crimson weapon hurled the air back to the safety (or captivity) of her killing fingers. In silence, she awaited and proceeded with the countdown, as there were still three seconds for the detonators to blow the f*ck out of, well, everything around its blasting rate, including this little game.​

 

[Karn Zhakul]

Felucian Jungles, Graug Warband, Killing
Armor: Warrior's Skin,

It all came at once.

A chorus of loud, deafening force powered shrieks howled through the air that shook the entire jungle canopy. The sound grew so loud it brought sensory overload, dampeners couldn't compensate for its volume and erupted on the sides of helmets. The shrieks were followed with more bellowing howls, the utterance of a guttural language that no translator could decipher. A hailstorm of weapons fire erupted from the canopy in every direction these were no elegant blasters of war - they were crude but deadly weapons designed to bloody, maim, agonize and kill. They roared as their devastating payloads unleashed. But they were followed by those who dropped from the trees and erupted from hidden jungle holes. These graug were stripped bare down to their hardened, white hides. A runic pattern covered their entire bodies with a great eye in the center of their chests.​

​

The entirety of this design was lit up in a bright orange, a light that quickly spread through every vein in their bodies as their blood was turned to a volatile composition reminiscent of lava. These zealots howled one thing in graugspeak before they reached enemy forces. For the Burned God. They erupted in great novas of fire that incinerated everything it touched, violent explosions one after the next these suicides came. Those who avoided the traps, moved out of range of the explosions could find themselves cut down from the ambush above as the lines began to collapse. All the while the nine foot Karn stood atop the tree his hands glowed with fire as he pressed them together, eyes locked on the one who appeared to be giving orders below to the struck lines. ​

​

"HUMAN! THE BURNED GOD WILL NOT BE DENIED HIS PRIZE. DEATH TO THE WEAK!" ​

​

Karn sucked in a deep breath before letting it go like fire belched from a dragon's maw came a wave of fire towards the man. As the wave came the graug turned towards a series of crashing noises. Felucia wasn't a jungle that turned away from conflict, its creatures didn't flee the sight of battle - they came towards it. A crashing horde of Acklay and other beasts had come through using tooth, claw, and all manner of appendage to indiscriminately kill graug and human alike. They were under attack by the very jungle around them. A large bird of prey had swept down through the canopy towards the priest striking him hard against the tree, its claws attempting to dig into his hardened shoulders. If he were a human it would've been childs play to carry him away, but he was a graug. Karn drove his fist in hard straight through the creatures chest, bone snapped and blood flowed as he ignited his hand then, burning the avian beast from the inside out into naught but ash.​

​

TSE: Eldaah Aderyn | Madelyn Lowe | Other Space Kaiden
GA: Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt | Djorn Bline | Amon Vizsla [Engaging] ​

 

[Jax Thio]

​

Location: Korriban, Sith Academy entrance​

Equipment: Jedi Armor, Jax's Lightsaber​

Tag: Aveline Cuiléin , Pom Stych Tivé (Enemy)​

​

Jax wasn't one to rely heavily on force meld due to the fact that it can easily be disrupted by dark side energies. He taught himself to rely mostly his instincts one of the major doctrines of the Living Force. If Master Oda was alive she'll probably call what Jax learned the polar opposite of what he taught him but Jax would counter by saying it was modification of her teachings. The force still binds people together according to Master Oda's teachings but sometimes a little self reliance wouldn't hurt. Though knowing himself, Jax often did things in excess, he tried to teach the ways of the living force to Aveline but to little avail, Aveline refused to budge from what the Silvers and by extension her Grey Jedi mentor has taught her. She was still reliant on others especially the force meld. Jax warned her to trust her instincts but all he got was tantrum and a sneer.​

​

When the meld broke, Jax remained standing relying on the force to maintain his balance even after he felt the effects. Aveline on the other hand, he sensed her power was waning. The Jedi observed the corpses of his comrades as he tried to escort Aveline out from the force created storm however whispers from his padawan about wanting to continue to fight for them distressed Jax. "I mourn for them," he said sadly. "But we can't just rush into the Academy not with the Sith aware of our presence."​

​

But once again Aveline would not listen she broke away from Jax rushing up the stairs towards the Academy. "AVELINE!" Jax yelled. "Damn it girl! Get back here! You're heading into a dark side infested place!"​

​

Why oh why wouldn't she just listen to him?! All this reckless shit should be Jax doing it not Aveline, let him take the fall in case things go bad. Let him sacrifice himself. Despite the stubbornness there was genuine good in Aveline unlike Jax, "frack me," Jax ran after Aveline slicing any stunned Sith trooper who tried to shoot him.​

​

He could feel the dark side wrap around his heart, but he managed to keep it at bay. If anything, Jax was used to the Dark Side knocking on his doorstep coercing him to take the next step. "She will fall," the voice said. "No," he whispered. "Frack you, I'm a piece of shit. I let my Master die because I was reckless, I drink myself to death almost everyday, the Jedi are on the verge of kicking me out, my droid hates me, Kayla Luspark probably thinks I'm a joke, I'm barely Jedi just a husk of a man counting down the days until he dies, Aveline is a hard headed girl but she doesn't deserve this! Let me go to the dark side, let me embrace it! I have nothing else to lose if I lose Aveline......"​

​

Jax found himself at the entrance, two Sith Troopers began firing at Aveline which prompted Jax to hurl his Lightsaber towards the men slicing their chests and ending their lives. At the same time, Jax ran and performed a flip grabbing his lightsaber in the air and landing in front of his apprentice. "STOP!" he raised his hand using the force to freeze her in place. "Damn you Aveline!" he said waving his hand again to release her from her stasis. "Do you want to die?! You know where we are! You don't know what the Sith are capable of! We will avenge our comrades but we have to do it together and approach with caution and a fracking plan! Fracking hell!"​

 

[Asmundr Varobalder]

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

In the stretching, timeless moments of stillness entwined between the waking reality of Korriban’s storm and the remnant network of relationships within the Force, Asmundr found himself lost.

Where he’d once seen a perfect pattern of symbiosis amongst the network of Jedi, he now saw dissonance. The tendrils he’d cut, representations of individuals writhed and faded in and out of view. Their luminescence waxed and waned, and try as he might, they evaded his coercion to draw back into him.

Within the pattern, there was an absence of unity, broken and shattered. Wild and tessellated in chaotic disharmony. The margins of the space were bright without illuminating anything or casting shadows, completely grey in his mindscape save for the northern star he journeyed across the expanse toward. Eclipsed in nothingness, Asmundr swayed without anything to tie himself to, exhausted in his odyssey to climb to Zark’s prevailing light.

'Asmundr...'
"Asmundr,"
"steel yourself we have no ti-"

<Find your resolve, Master. This world is sick, and we have put too much weight upon your shoulders. We shall await your return.>

With shaking hands, and a face wet with grief, he looked skyward with all-seeing eyes, seeking to identify existence within the absences of the pattern. Those he’d let go. Those he’d lost to protect and save.

There was a smell, rich, arid and loamy. The smell of growth and decay. He was aware of his body, the skin, the sinew, the curl of his gut, the tears in his eyes.

He unmade himself and watched himself being unmade by her, the Ashla. By him, the Bogan. By them, his warriors.

Asmundr became a landscape in himself, a world. He fell father in and away, into her clutches, his grasp, them open-handed and accepting.

take my hand

Their hands, all their wanting hands stretched out to him, accepting his need to withdraw, finding it within themselves to continue on. To try their best. To persevere. Victory whispered her generous coo, gently warning him of the Bogan that sought to counter all he stood to protect against. His relativity to it all, it all of them, of the planet. His nearness to Zark San Tekka and Ryv and their eternal giving of self. Ashla stretched out in all her radiance, tightening her grip when he reached, he reached, he reached out, he searched.
She, Ashla, transcended definition, he, Bogan, defied boundaries, they flowed into an undefinable realm that stretched into a valley of darkness.

They coalesce into one entity. It. The Force.

It reaches out, it reaches out, it reaches out. It reaches out in ways it could not before. Because it is not aware, it does not feel. But now, a ceremony awakened, a desperate plea from a warden: It feels power. Immense, incredible, unfathomable.

The Sorcerers across Korriban reached into the veins of the vortex. They focused their minds on its power and commanded it forth. Commanded the spirits of The Darkside to rise.

Something that once was sleeping awakens. At its centre, the empty place gains definition. Patterns begin to match, simplifying into lower-energy structures, silhouettes of the Light’s warriors. The abstract architecture of human connection and the abstract model of geography begin to correlate. All nodes of the construct he’d once had evidence themselves as pointed beacons, and he reaches out, he reaches out, he reaches out. They give. Their light reciprocating and offering without hesitation as his silent request is made to collect, gather, store, grow. They reach back.

Cells of himself became molecules –– countless, complex, varied. Impressive, expansive, and infinitesimal. He was a breath. A mist. A tiny spread of fields and interactions in a vacuum as perfect as constellation painted space. A vibration of nothingness that worked slowly to rebuild itself in the spanses of the gleam of Ashla.

Union. Harmony. Expansiveness. Infinity. All and everything in total entirety all at one time.

Oneness.

It builds, it looks. It builds The Warden. It is not aware of a change, that a pattern has broken within its organization. It only feels larger, more alive, more used. The Warden is aware, and it wonders, and because the Warden wonders, it looks, and because it looks, The Warden exceeds its boundary conditions and intercepts the meld once more, saturating those who had suffered from the earlier enervation with golden brilliance.

It reaches out, it reaches out. He reaches out. The Warden reaches out. The Warden seeks.

The Warden finds. The Warden influences. The Warden illuminates.

BATTLMELD: RESTORED AND REINFORCED. LEVEL UP ACHIEVED.​

ALLIES | NJO | GA | Zark San Tekka
STRIKE TEAM SHAN: Leon Gallo // Master Zoryu // Jannik Morlandt
STRIKE TEAM WINDU: Shaka Sunstar // Oceiros Sunstrider
STRIKE TEAM SKYWALKER: Coren Starchaser // Ryv
STRIKE TEAM TANO: Aveline Cuiléin // Jax Thio
STEIKE TEAM VOS: Allyson Locke // Bernard // Zaavik Perl
STRIKE TEAM RHYSODE: Kenth Ordo // Aramis Sunstrider // Hal Vaiken
STRIKE TEAM KENOBI: Ripley Kühn // Karn Syndulla // Kat Decoria // Kaleleon
STRIKE TEAM FEL: Rurik Fel // Creuat // Mesh Zetnu
STRIKE TEAM FAY: Auteme // Lucien Dooku // Mato Kejak

ENEMIES | TSE | THE DARKSIDE

 

[Aeric Kaze]

SITH ACADEMY
ALLIES: THE SITH EMPIRE
ENEMIES: THE NEW JEDI ORDER
NOTICE: Creuat
Proximity:

SONG OR SOMETHING
​

Kaze moved straight for the Jedi Intruder, the red lightsaber extending out over his shoulder as he charged, waiting to further close the distance before dropping his arms. Unfortunately, that point didn't come, for he was struck by the invisible hand of the Force. It shoved him back, mid-step, he was unbalanced as he was thrown off his feet, watching as the Nautolan cut down another Sith in his stead.

His saber deactivated as he flew, and he hit the ground, sliding across the stones. For a moment, he just laid there, ridiculed, mostly by himself. And then he rolled over, pushing himself back up to his feet, and glancing over his shoulder he saw the approaching Nautolan, deadset on a path to carving Kaze up. Holding back the urge to beam, he was content to rise up to the challenge, to put an end to the whispers of darkness he heard in his ear.

"You're not strong enough to win." The spoken challenge the prelude to his saber exploding back to life, his saber leaping forwards to meet the Knight's, tip angled downwards, he leaned into it, with the hopes of knocking him off balance before stabbing downwards towards one of his legs. He may have not had much of a presence in the Force, bolstered or not, he was still a bladesmen -- that's where his strength lie. And he knew, if he wee going to beat a stronger opponent, he'd have to cripple them.

 

[Teica Giraan]

[Location: G.A Frigate Peacemaker(Negotiator-class) - Bridge - Orbit of Felucia]
[Status: I demand more torps]
[Shields: Holding]

Teica stood, just in front of her chair as the battle went on. Hands resting behind her back, she watched the pretty lights come on and off, all around the viewscreen. Plasma rounds screamed like the pilots whose ships they hit. And yet, amidst all the violence and explosions, there was quiet. She took a deep breath, letting her eyes close only for a second, and stared back at the viewscreen. The Sith ships were still there.

The frigate sat among its fellow starships. Cruisers, corvettes, and other frigates all had their places. Each one did its part and fired at incoming ships. The Peacemaker's turbolasers fired at full power, scattered among the slowly anti-capital ship rounds were the faster, smaller laser cannon rounds. The smaller rounds flew with the speed of their turrets, and into the hulls of enemy fighters.

Torpedoes ran out of their launchers to taste the freedom of space. They ran and spun in happy circles before crashing into the hulls of the enemy. Magnificent explosions would add to the beauty of the terror.

Teica, unlike many others she had met during her rise in the ranks of the G.A, loved the security that the vacuum of space afforded. No directions, no limits, space was the escape from the evils of terran worlds. On the ground, blood would be spilled and pain would engulf the eyes of combatants. In space, they fought from the protected layers of durasteel, and when people died, it was quick and dignifying.

The captain sat down.

"Gunnery," she waited a few seconds for the gunnery chief to make eye contact with her, "concentrate fire on the destroyer dead ahead."

"Turbolasers locked on target, salvos firing, captain."

The turbolaser turrets locked onto their new target and fired in perfect synchronization, right as the bombers came down.

"Report!" Teica shouted as she was flung back into her seat.

A lieutenant raced her hands around a console, "We've sustained heavy damage to deck 1 and lost half of the starboard turbolasers!"

"Dispatch repair drones, divert extra computing power to the starboard laser cannons."

The repair drones flew through the waves of fire from the laser cannons. They flew down and got to work on the damaged systems as the next bomber flight group flew in. This one wasn't as lucky as the others.

And so, the slaughter continued.

 

[Lucien Dooku]

DUALITY_OF_ONE
[OUTSIDE]
KAL'ORITSOR | DRIP

---

---

It beckoned him.

The darkness swirled inside his core, amplifying his abilities even more-so than usual when his emotions were tame and under control. The Sith's taunts were accompanied by a deafening laughter from the phantom positioned to his rear. It brought the rage boiling within him further to the surface, and with it came a second thrust of his arm as he fell back down towards the ground.

A second wave of telekinesis jutted forwards, smashing into the phantom apparition who taunted him from the rear of the masked Lord of the Sith. The wave of energy crashed onto the ground, and with it the phantom's presence dissipated altogether from the material.

"Die."

He muttered. Blue eyes shifting towards Aurum before the Sith began striking out at the now disarmed Jedi. He danced around the Jedi, cutting through his clothes and delivering wounds that grazed but did not reach the efficiency of a killing blow. Even in his instinctual state of mind, Luc had enough sense to understand that the man was toying with him. Cutting at his flesh until he was either too weak to fight back, or far too emotional to defend himself properly.

The sting grew and lingered with each successive strike that connected with his flesh. He was thrown onto the defensive, forced to dodge and weave if he wanted to avoid the man's trap. Incoming strikes fell upon him with the fluidity of a master duelist, and as such it took every ounce of concentration to keep his footwork a step ahead of his opponent. That concentration eventually broke altogether, and with it another graze cut at his torn and battered form.

Something had changed on Korriban.

He could feel it through the force as if it were a change of the winds on the planet itself. A pain shot through his mind, different altogether from the pain of the many cuts that lined his form. The fog receded from his mind, and with it the rush for blood and battle that had kept him focused solely upon Aurum. A voice reached out to him-- one that he'd drowned out this entire time like the fool that he was.

His eyes met Auteme 's with clarity that previously could not be found. She ran from the tomb once more, desperately seeking an opening to complete their mission. Luc reached out to her with his thoughts the moment his eyes met her own. Even as the Sith Lord's blade cut into his form, further chipping away at his strength with each blow that landed.

"I almost failed. I'm sorry."

He called out in her mind. Through the pain a smile crept onto his lips, replacing the glare that had rested there before. For a moment the pain had ceased, his senses focusing in on the bond that the two had created through the chaos that filled their lives. Warmth filled him once more, pushing aside the creeping darkness and strengthening his will to stand in the face of the Sith's efforts to weaken him to the point of death.

"Take it. Don't turn back, no matter what happens."

Luc gathered the force with what felt like the last of the strength he held in reserve. He could feel his grip on consciousness weakening now that the empowering energy of Kal'oritsor no longer affected his resolve. A hand thrusted outwards from his body, lifting the sand and earth alike in the wake of the thrust. It pushed towards the Sith Lord, bringing with it every ounce of strength that he could muster through the force.

The will of his defiance erupted forth at point blank range, targeting the Sith with a wave of force that he hoped would catch the Sith Lord by surprise, given his focus on breaking down the Jedi with one cut at a time. At the same time another wave erupted forth from his opposite hand, targeting his Jedi comrade who'd dashed for the tomb in a make or break effort to complete their objective. He held back nothing with this last effort, intent of catching Auteme in the whirlwind of energy that would engulf not only Aurum but her as well.

It was a do or die moment; Auteme would be carried forth, engulfed by the wave and quite literally carried and thrown right towards the entrance of the tomb and away from the battle between Jedi and Sith. It was all he could do to protect her from harm. To keep her from suffering anymore pain that perhaps he could've prevented had he not lost control. Despite the power he felt engulf him in those moments, in hindsight it felt as if he'd almost lost it all.

He felt weak. Hopeless even. Until the connection to the others resumed, melding his thoughts once more with the others.

Luc dropped to a knee, his arms falling limp at his side. He'd thrown everything he could at the Sith, but the end result left him weak and vulnerable, even as if the meld empowered his resolve to fight a battle which he physically was no longer capable of doing. Even if the wave of the force had failed to do any damage, at the very least he'd carried Auteme away from whatever was to come next.

Weak and defenseless, he was. Brought to a knee by the Sith and holding onto his consciousness by a thread.

Despite this, a smile lingered on his lips.

Auteme | Mato Kejak | Felix Astermo | Lark

​

​

 

[Ryv]

S W O R D _ O F _ T H E _ J E D I
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
Strike Team Skywalker
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER

FEAR​

Resolve roared within Ryv's mind as it sliced across the graug's flesh. The weapon, born to destroy the Sith, thrummed with unbridled excitement. The valor it imparted upon the Jedi Knight pushed him to strike out faster against the beast, his aim true. The weapon carved through the once-Sith'ari like paper, flesh torn asunder by the white-hot plasma. As Vulcanus howled in pain, broken by its arrogance, Ryv threw his head back and bellowed a triumphant battle cry. The sound originated from deep within him. He shouted to the stars not for himself, nor for the wound inflicted on the Sith. He cried out to his lost master and the planet he once called home. For the souls stolen away by the Sith Empire's genocide of Ession.

Though the viridescent saber pulverized the beast's right eye, Ryv wasn't finished. He pulled down and sliced through the socket with ease as he attempted to distance himself from the undead horror. Midstep, he found himself locked in place, the Jedi Knight's grip on Resolve tight as Vulcanus' hand closed around the green blade. His eyes widened as the Sith Lord ripped his weapon away and threw it to the side. He stumbled forward, the titan's strength alone enough to yank Ryv off balance and deliver him to the superheated hand.

It smashed into his face, nose broken on impact. Blood splattered as bone splintered. Tears took shape immediately, his vision a blur of light and scarlet. He reached up and grabbed at the monster's wrists as if his strength alone could free him from its grasp. Though it spoke to him, Ryv could barely make out the words. His world exploded in pain as claws bore into his flesh. He bit back a scream as his skin cooked from the beast's molten grip. Unable to hold them back, cries of misery escaped the Jedi Knight, only to lose their strength, muffled by the oversized mitt locked around his skull.

Once Vulcanus found Ryv's cybernetic arm, the Jedi Knight gasped.

Not again. Not like this.

As the Sith Lord began to pull, the Jedi Knight pulled back. His muscles tightened as he fought to free himself from the creature's grasp. He abandoned all else as his other hand braced against his clawed prison and pushed against it. An immense pain swept through his arm, his elbow popped, and the surrounding tissue tore. The taut muscle frayed beneath the behemoth's unmatched strength, only to stretch beyond their limit without reprieve. His metallic limb screeched as Ryv screamed out in utter agony. A mixture of horror and amazement clung to his mind, the kiffar unable to believe a creature could be so much stronger. Even with the Force's aid, even with countless hours spent across several years to strengthen his body, to hone it into the perfect weapon, he could not match Vulcanus' might.

His cybernetic arm slowly gave. Its circuitry peeked through as the metal cracked and split. Blood seeped from where metal met flesh, bits of bone visible as it all gave way. The world slowed to a grinding halt as Ryv's eyes locked on the horrific sight. Never before had he witnessed something so awful, so grizzly, the pain alone threatened to put him under, but the vision of his arm being rent from his body made him sick. He wouldn't have believed it possible if not for the stomach-churning pain that assaulted him.

And just like that, reality caught up to the Sword.

Scarlet ichor burst from his body as everything that connected man and machine finally gave way. His replacement limb hung within the beast's hand, free from the Jedi's body. Chunks of torn muscle and bits of shattered bone clung to the metal. Blood rained down, its soundless impacts enough to stain the chamber floor.

The world spun around him as the former Sith'ari tossed him aside like a forgotten toy. His body impacted against carved stone before it crumpled to the floor. Though he lay unmoving on the cold, uneven rock, his vision still swam. He attempted to move. His body twitched in response, unable to do anything else.

"I-I," his lips slowly formed the word, bits of blood dripped down from the corners of his mouth.

"I'm s-sorry," he groaned as he fought to keep his eyes open. "Auteme, I don't... think... I'm gonna keep that p-promise after all..."

Each breath came slower than the last. Ryv's chest rose shakily, the faint movement enough to send a new wave of strain throughout his body. His gaze slipped to the bloodied stump that oozed scarlet down his chest and pooled around his torso. Tears rolled down his face and fell to the earth beside his slumped head.

From behind closed eyes, a flicker of golden radiance caught the forlorn Jedi Knight's attention. The light's warmth caressed his flesh and massaged away the pain. Ryv's mind slowly cleared, agony's haze lifted by the familiar presence. When he opened his eyes, the Sword expected to see the stark white interior of a hospital, not unlike the last time he lost his arm. Instead, he was greeted by a golden specter as it knelt down before him. A brilliant hand pressed against the kiffar's chest and imparted but an inkling of the Force's infinite power. It spread from there. The soothing light effortlessly knit together smaller lacerations across his body. Bruised, purple flesh faded to the soft tan sullied by Vulcanus' iron grip.

"Master...." Ryv muttered. "This is incredible, you're, you're, I c-can feel you, this isn't, but, how are you doing this? You're one with the Force? You've obtained Oneness?"

The Warden's hand gently caressed the scarlet-stained stump of Ryv's former left arm. Flesh mended together to stem the flow of blood. The Sword stared in disbelief, awed by what should've been impossible. A million questions raced through his mind, but he just couldn't find the words for any of them.

When the Warden offered his hand, Ryv accepted it graciously and stood with the now deific being's guidance. He watched as a gleaming finger pressed against his forehead.

Suddenly, the world opened up to the Jedi Knight. Caverns fell away, the storm settled, and the darkness broke against the Battlemind's brilliance. Ryv saw Coren so close to him, the Jedi Master a beacon. Miles of red sand stretched out around them both, but he could see others like them. Small pillars of light engulfed in a golden aura so bright he couldn't look directly at it. Great darkness lingered at the edge of each golden bubble, but it could not pierce the Warden's light.

Chains interconnected them all. They were bound through the All-Seeing Jedi Master as he walked within the great Empyrean.

Ryv met Asmundr's gaze and nodded. "I know, Master. We must make haste."

Together, they would turn the tide. Together, the Jedi would escape this pit and return home. But he knew the Battlemind's power wasn't enough. He saw cracks in his golden walls as Bogan's might pressed against it with all the great being had.

Ryv reached beyond himself and imparted his emotions onto Asmundr. He allowed the Jedi Master in. His memories flowed from one to the other, only to be projected to all the others. Everything Ryv held dear laid bare before them all, an open viewing of his very soul.

Serenity.

Asmundr and Ryv sat together within the Council Chamber's back on Coruscant. They both remained absolutely still, their breathing controlled, hands flat against their knees. Though no words were spoken, the Jedi Master's voice cut through the memory. His words of encouragement for the Sword as he sought peace within himself amplified through the vision. Tension faded from Ryv's face as he found comfort in those words. He cracked open an eye and looked to the Jedi Master, a small smile on his lips. This was what he wanted most from his youth. Not the promises of skill unmatched or the power to change the world. He yearned for a chance to prove himself, but the patience to see him fail. Asmundr did what Ryv's father was unable to do. He stood by his side and supported him.

Trust.

Shaka Sunstar stood at the Jedi's back. In the face of Coren Starchaser, a living legend, the thyrsian promised to stand at the Master's side, but only if Ryv did too. He looked back at and smiled at the man, a total stranger up until that point. Others had put their trust in him before. He knew what it felt like to bear that weight. However, under Shaka's piercing gaze, Ryv did not fear failure.

The peaceful scene faded, replaced with the hellish charge on Dantooine. Artillery rained down around them. It tore through the rolling fields that led to the Sith Enclave. One such blast battered Ryv and sent him flying through the air. His journey ended dozens of feet away, half-buried in the dirt, under heavy fire from Sith-Imperial forces. The sun's rays blinded him as he struggled to move. A shadow fell over him, a familiar face loomed closer. A hand stretched down and took the Sword's, only to lift him to his feet. Ryv nodded in thanks to Shaka, unable to believe the Jedi Knight had turned back to lift him up when he had fallen. Their standard fluttered behind them, carried proudly by the thyrsian Jedi. Within him, Ryv found a brother that day. One he hoped to fight beside again.

Loyalty.

Another battlefield. Another hellhole. Another brother at his side.

Shards of falling glass rained down all around Ryv as the Blade of Ruusan flashed in his defense. It deflected a torrent of blaster fire out and away from the Jedi Knight. At his back, Lucien Dooku held off Lord Venari on his own. The Exiled Prince took up his saber and channeled his hatred back at him. Ryv felt exhausted. His body slumped with each swing of the lightsaber, the weapon growing heavier with each second. Lucien danced around him, directing Venari away from the Sword as he sliced through the durasteel bridge that kept them aloft. As smoke rose around them, the ground fell away, and the two Jedi escaped. Though they did not win, they did survive.

Rurik Fel stood a dozen steps from Ryv. The Lord-Executor, then a Jedi Knight trained beneath Ryv's father, lifted a cyan blade and guided the young Padawan through the beginner forms of Shii-Cho. The kiffar stumbled through almost every step, his saber pointed incorrectly, footwork inept, or body misaligned. Rurik corrected him without fail, the older Jedi firm, but kind in his criticism. The light slowly faded as the moon shined bright in the sky. Hours of training passed by in the blink of an eye, and by the end of it, Ryv finally completed the form without error. He looked up at Rurik with a teary-eyed smile.

"Thanks, Rurik!" Ryv hurried over and threw his arms around him. "Dad was so mad I couldn't figure it out, but I knew you could help me. You're so much nicer, and you never lose your temper."

He pressed his face against the older Jedi's leg and sniffled. "I just want him to be proud of me like he's proud of you."

Rurik knelt down and wiped away the smaller boy's tears. "He is proud of you, Ryv. He just doesn't know how to show it yet."

Respect.

Coren Starchaser stood across from Ryv. A room full of Jedi looked to the both of them, though no one said a word. The Master extended a hand to the Knight. Ryv took it and smiled up at the Jedi Master.

"Together," he said.

"Together," Coren agreed.

They would lead the Jedi to a new age. One that wouldn't see them as the galaxy's undervalued protector, but instead, heroes without peer. Together.

Empathy.

A large tree swayed overhead; brilliant beams of light pushed through the canopy and illuminated the two Jedi beneath it. Ripley Kühn rested her head atop Ryv's shoulder, their hands joined together as they spoke. A basket sat beside the pair, filled to the brim with various fruits from throughout the galaxy. Goofy smiles graced their faces as their eyes darted away from one another whenever they caught each other looking. The two spoke openly, Ryv regaling her with the story of his torture. He ran his fingers along scarred flesh, recounting his time in a Sith-Imperial prison years before. He spoke of isolation and pain, of not knowing whether or not he'd ever recover. She assured him that everything would be okay, that he wouldn't be alone anymore. His thumb caressed her hand, and he looked into her deep, cobalt eyes.

Love.

Ryv pressed his head against a door and berated himself. He called himself stupid and questioned why he ever left his room to began with. Before he knew it, the door opened and revealed Auteme in oversized pajamas. The two of them were younger then, the times simpler. War hadn't yet struck the galaxy and Ryv hadn't devoted himself to the mission. He looked at her, his eyes pleading. Nightmares of Kintan assaulted him throughout the night. The death of a small girl played in his head over and over again, crushed to death before him. He feared those memories. He couldn't be alone anymore. She looked at him, she saw the pain, and she let him in. They sat together for hours and talked. Ryv spoke of his dreams, and she listened.

The room blurred. It changed around the two Jedi. The two rapidly aged, with Auteme clearly maturing before Ryv's very eyes. Yet, he hadn't changed much at all. He still stumbled around in sweat pants and t-shirts. He even knocked at her door in the dead of night, intent on not being alone in the face of his most painful memories. And just like before, Auteme let him in. They spoke, but this time, they spoke of her hopes. He listened, enveloped entirely in her dream.

He knew he loved her, though it wasn't the same as it had been years before. Auteme had grown into a trusted friend and valued Jedi Knight. His promise to her floated to the surface, the content they felt in one another's arms right beside it.

He had a promise to keep.

Unity.

Ryv's memories faded away as he thrust his hand towards Resolve's agitated presence. The silvery hilt carried through the air into the Jedi Knight's single hand. He ran his thumb along the smooth surface, thankful it hadn't been destroyed in Vulcanus' display of dark prominence. He slipped the saber beneath his stump and pinned it to the body before he activated the commlink within his ear.

"This is Ryv," the Sword began. His voice sounded across the strike team's joint channel. "The Sith have completed their ritual. Master Varobalder is holding their power at bay, but he cannot do it for long. I have signaled the dropships to evac us ASAP. Do what you have to and break away from whatever is holding you back. Get to your designated zones, get on your ship, and get the hell out of here. This is an order."

The Sword of the Jedi took hold of Resolve and looked back to the mountainous beast. Blood still coated portions of his face, while scarlet streaks littered his jacket and armorweave bodysuit. The viridescent saber surged from the hilt. The light crackled as it illuminated his corner of the cavern.

"We're not done yet, beast."

ALLIES | NJO | NIO | Coren Starchaser | Rurik Fel | Asmundr Varobalder
ENEMIES | TSE | ELDER COMPACT | Other Space Kaiden | Carnifex

 

[Auteme]

Lucien Dooku Felix Astermo | Mato Kejak Lark ​

Her legs felt like lead. Each step closer to the tomb was one closer to their objective, but out of the corner of her eye she could only watch as the gold-masked Sith cut and wounded Lucien time and time again. Her run slowed; soon she was watching him, watching each strike, each new trickle of blood. With a wave of his hand she was thrown away into the tomb.

Still she watched, watched as knelt, accepting his sacrifice. For her. Why? Why for her? Did he want her away? Was this really how she was meant to complete her mission? Not hours before she'd been telling Ryv that their lives were more important than their mission. Yet Lucien pushed her forward.

A smile. That was all she saw on his face. The last thing she saw before she disappeared into the tomb.

It was as if she'd been transported to another plane of existence. The tomb, dark and dry, seemed to have had lost the malice of the phantoms and storm outside. It was as if the darkness was funneled elsewhere, as thick as it lingered in the place of Darth Bane. She rose to her feet and stumbled through the darkness, finding her way through on instinct.

But it was all dark, and all quiet, and she was alone. What was she to do? Purge this place when so much had already gone, washed away, only remembered in the dark hearts of those who had learned from the man the place was dedicated to? She didn't know. The mission was a distant thought. The emotions crept back in. She sank to her knees on the cold stone floor.

The promise hadn't been Ryv's alone. It'd been one for all of them. Her heart ached every moment; every second away a reminder that they weren't there and every second a reminder of the love and support each carried. The Light. Even in the sad, lonely darkness she found herself in, it touched her mind in brief moments, like flitting memories of happiness and safety.

But ever so slowly it crept further and further; she felt the connection again, for she was never alone. Asmundr had become a shining beacon for the Jedi -- and beside him, Ryv found the good in the deepest recesses of his memory. She cried, remembering those quiet moments in her room. There were times she missed them. Still, she'd never truly lost them.

She reached out to him, meeting that same feeling of love and care with her own to strengthen the meld. No longer was she alone in the darkness. She was at Kintan, helping him back to the camp. She was on Peace, waiting for his return. She was in his room, grinning giddily as she read something to him that he didn't quite get.

To forget was a difficult thing.

He wasn't the only one. Each step brought her closer to the others -- to Takui , a boy she'd seen grow into a Jedi. She remembered when they sat at the fountain on Alderaan and she told him about the Jedi. How ready he'd been to accept the new responsibility. And now she could see how much he'd grown. He'd come into his own and there was no doubt in her mind that he'd become the best among them.

Kenth Ordo was the same. Though becoming a padawan at a later age may have proven a disadvantage, she'd seen his Light grow strong in the palm of his hand. Though darkness threatened him she knew he could find the light within. Aveline Cuiléin , too, though the padawan had yet to find it; Auteme could see her strength and compassion.

For a brief moment she found Coren Starchaser and wondered if he saw the same in those he taught. Though it had been years ago, it was Coren who'd shown Auteme the basics of Force Light and taught her to harness and shape it. He was a Jedi, through and through, and she could only hope to live up to his example.

Bernard , a stalwart protector and friend. Leon Gallo , skilled and determined. Zaavik Perl , someone who'd glimpsed into her mind just as she'd glimpsed into his, and they'd become better for it. There was so much to draw from. So many memories, so many emotions, so much love and care and Light. Each of the Jedi there were worthy of hers.

It was the Ryv's voice that cut through, coming over the comms channel. Though he was issuing a retreat order she couldn't find any fear in him. His walls crumbled and reached to those he knew -- telling them that they needed to escape, for their lives were more important than anything they might achieve here.

Her mind, finally, went to Lucien. The smile, the goofy spacer's jacket, the way he could seem like he cared about nothing and everything at the same time. That smile as he sent her forward with no regrets. She could still feel him. Even as his strength was beginning to fade she pulled from her own to sooth and heal him.

She closed her eyes. "Asmundr, Ryv, Lucien... everyone...

"My Light is yours. Always."

For an instant her mind drew close to the Warden's; she felt but a fraction of his power but even that was enough to make her stand and bring out the Light. Her hands, placed in front of her as if in prayer, flared with the intensity of the meld and the Light both. It was as if a star had entered the tomb. The room burst with purifying light, brighter and brighter.

She began to walk to the tomb's entrance, her presence known by the blinding light surrounding her. Every moment it grew brighter. Even in that dark place, there was always someone she could rely on to remind her of why she was there. She wanted to protect people. She wanted to care and learn and love.

Today was not the end. She passed through the tomb's entrance to where the others still fought.

The Light grew with each passing moment -- a blazing reminder for Jedi and Sith alike. A beacon of hope in a world so lost.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: L E G E N D S _ N E V E R _ D I E //:
//: Team Vos //: Zaavik Perl //:
//: TSE //: Gnox the Insatiable //: Vaylin //: Maple Harte //:
//: E S C A P E //:
//: Sith Academy //: Korriban //:

The pain that Zaavik endured poured into her as she could see him from the corner of her eye. He fought on and didn't give up. She didn't need to look to Loske for the hope of the Jedi; Zaavik was what kept her sane. He was the light and hope she had been looking for to keep her anchored in the Force. They were all mortal; they made mistakes. She would have to find a way to forgive her companions for their mistakes like they had forgiven her. Stupid life lessons, she thought quietly to herself. A smirk spread across her face as she felt an inkling of joy, seeing the Zabrak in pain. The darkness in her heart fed off their rivalry, but it seemed she wasn't going to be able to continue this fight with the woman. ​

Zaavik's quick action burned through the bond they shared; she used him to push forward herself. The Hand's blade struck true and jaggedly ripped through the leather jacket and the flesh of the Jedi Master. "Chit." She cursed as the lightsaber was too late to defend her. There were only a few moments for her to be able to do anything, but they needed to get going. ​

As suddenly as she began to formulate the immediate plan in her head, there was a sudden burst through the Force. It made her stomach twist into knots; she couldn't deny this Force Meld, her mind sucked into the group as she suddenly saw visions, ones that she didn't want to see. The Corellian was a master of her own mental protection; as Ryv's memories started to appear in her mind, she shut them out as quickly as possible. She never wanted him in her head ever again; he had caught her at a weak moment and created a bond with her. That bond was gone - it was for the best. She kept him out and focused on the others and the meld of the Master Jedi. ​

Was this what the light felt like? It washed over the Corellian. While she felt as if someone had hit her with adrenaline, she felt the painful burn of the goodness. She was a shadow; no matter how bright they shined in the Force, they were forever to find solace in the darkness. "Our little date is going to be cut short, sorry, Vaylin." With a quick flick of her wrist, she flung the ignited lightsaber towards the woman. Her focus was now on her Padawan and the hungry beast. As her body twisted, her tried and true weapon of choice unfolded in her hand. The compound bow quickly found an arrow drawn in the string. At the tip of the arrow, the Force gathered, glowing brightly. Allyson wasn't capable of creating a powerful force light explosion like Coren Starchaser, but the Shadow could hold her own. ​

The Force Light tipped arrow had made the Carnifex himself twist in pain; now it was Gnox's turn. As quickly as she had drawn the arrow, it was fired and burned through the air towards the Sith Lord. "ZAAVIK RUN," Allyson shouted as she dropped from the rafters and prepared to pull the boy from Gnox. If she had to, she would take Vaylin, Maple, and Gnox on her own. Zaavik needed to survive. ​

Allyson felt the pounding against her knees as she felt weak suddenly. Blood poured from her side; she didn't realize how deep Vaylin had gotten into her side. Skin flayed and torn from her waist to hip, blood-soaked her clothing as it dripped down her leg. Allyson didn't have time to tap into the comms to try and get some sort of support. It was her and Zaavik till the end of this. ​

It was okay if she died here, as long as Zaavik survived. A calm washed over the Jedi Master as she focused all her energy into the Force Valor, hoping to take any of the pain her Padawan was feeling onto herself. Another arrow was drawn, and the Force Light formed once more at the tip; she aimed it, waiting to attack again.​

"Come on big boy, you know I'd be more of a meal than that gangly boy." The Corellian smirked, as she fought the urge to collapse - Vaylin had gotten her good, especially as she felt her blood starting to pool at her foot. Had her luck finally run out? "How about you pick on someone a bit more your size or something."​

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Grand Vizier Madelyn Lowe
Location: Kway Teow Relay Station, Felucia
Objective: Move to the relay station, defend Kway Teow.
Attn:
@Aerarii Tithe| Maynard Treicolt | Captain Raith | Loske Treicolt | Djorn Bline
Eldaah Aderyn | Karn Zhakul | Darth Athora

“It has been the most difficult thing we have ever had to do, finding the traitors among us., ridding ourselves of their ilk.”
-Madelyn Lowe, Grand Vizier inauguration ceremony.​

Having done her bit and said her piece, Madelyn stepped back from the communication relay’s control panel and watched the display awhile. The defense of the planet was playing out to the same tune as had the dozen-or-so she had lived through thus far.

Outside, the Alliance was pressing against the defences. They railed against the outer walls, throwing themselves against the Legionnaires on the fortifications, and at the gate they massed with their armor. It would not hold them much longer, and the fleet support was still distant. The Northern gate would breach soon, and the fighting would spill onto the city streets.

Every bit of it was the same. Despite the shifting settings and differing adversaries, the sights and sounds remained constant. The whole business was beginning to weigh on her some. How long would they have to play these games? The Empire had at times crushed its rebels, pushed back its enemies and scorched the planets of its rivals. It had excised pockets of rebellion and disorder like lancing sores, or lopping off festering limbs.

Still though, the rebels, Jedi, traitors and fanatics had crept back in, reclaimed old guises or adopted new ones to suit them. They, in their various forms, continued their campaigns of fruitless violence beating their fists against a giant they could not shift in an endless tide. The Sith, her Empire, they were growing weary of it. The galaxy continued to spiral into bloodshed and fear, and they, their noble Empire, was dragged down with it. The Alliance and their attack on Felucia was just a symptom, she hardly blamed them.

An odd thought flitted briefly through Madelyn’s mind, something that hadn’t occurred to her in some time. She could just leave. She could step away, leave the war behind, flee to some far-flung corner of the Galaxy. She had the means, sure enough. It would be simple, easy really, to set up a life for herself.

A deep frown marred her features, and she shifted her weight from foot-to-foot. Had she really just considered that? That was… Unlike her. Madelyn was not one to walk away from responsibility. She did not shrink from her duty, and she would give her all to her Empire. Madelyn was loyal, not some coward, not some traitor. She gritted her teeth. There were other ways to help this, other ways than running. She would not turn and run.

Besides, Madelyn had already fought so much, how could she just turn away?

Footsteps sounded from the darkened gantry behind her, and Madelyn looked over her shoulder, catching a glance of a teal-clad officer crossing above.

“Moff Linden-Karr?” She called out, turning around to look into the dim. “I was told you’d already evacuated, you should be withdrawing to the command ship-” Madelyn trailed off, the two or three remaining aides turning and looking at her curiously. She squinted, her eyes adjusting from the bright screen to the darkened corner.
The figure above her sharpened, revealing not the figure of Moff Linden-Karr, but of an altogether different person. It was difficult to see his features clearly, but she could see enough to know. Madelyn turned back to one of the aides.

“Watch the control-panel, relay any calls here to the fleet.” She said curtly to a baffled-looking junior officer who nodded nervously. Madelyn stalked across the room, snatching a hefty blaster pistol from a wall-rack as she marched out the door without another word. The face had been half-hidden in the gloom, but there was no mistaking it. It was Tithe.

The man who had led the Sith-Imperial credit to greatness, the man who had helped stem the tide as the New Imperials assaulted Oversector I, the man she had put her faith in to lead. The traitor, the enemy.

He was here.

Madelyn walked quickly, not quite jogging until she got to the stairway up to the gantry. She crept up, the blaster quivering in her hand, which was clenched white. How foolish he was, to have come back. He would soon realise his mistake.

​

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

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

Enemy Tags: Jax Thio & Aveline Cuiléin ​

All across the land the Darkside rages for the Sith to declare aloud the sacred words necessary to make manifest it's Will and satisfy its yearning for purpose…

To snuff out the Light

Sorcerers of ancient doctrines resurrected the unholy dead where they lay. The orchestrations of Other Space Kaiden caused ramifications to be felt near and far. As Sorcerers simultaneously generate numerous energy storms, meticulously distanced apart one from another, the Nightsisters worked caught up in the essence of their Magick, void of awareness of other casting Sorcerers, only aware of that which the Darkness beckoned. The Nexus proliferated as the Sith orchestrated.



The resurrected Lord rose up out of the earth, now walked freely among the ensuing chaos, a lust for blood consumed its thoughts. It honed in on one Jedi thief Aveline Cuiléin .

"YOU DESECRATE THE SANCTITY OF THE ARCHIVES!" it bellowed. Turning its full attention onto the girl, it cast an Illusion around the area, separating her from detection of her master, Jax Thio .

"Return what belongs to my people," it growled, extending its boney hand towards her. "Or I shall rid you of the coveted artifacts myself."



Pomstychtivé turned her attention away from her coven and watched as the girl vanished from sight. The Matriarch smirked in amusement. "Your Padawan should not play with toys that oppose her alignment," she said to the Jedi master. "You should have taught her that. They will assist in teaching her the source from which true power stems." Her smile flourished. "Question is, what shall you learn of today?" Her smile instantly turned sinister.

​

 

[Leon Gallo]

"Well," Leon spoke through panting breaths, "You are pretty damned polite."

Slowly, the pain abated. The chilling cold remained, for the meld was gone, but at least now the crushing pain in his arm was lessened. He steadied his breath while trying to think of his next move. The Sith was definitely more experienced, and Leon wasn't sure he'd be able to beat him with stamina alone. Plus, whatever that sword had done, it wasn't good. The young Jedi could feel the muscles in his right arm freezing up, as if they were clenching and refused to relax. That sensation was moving up his arm slowly, and into his hand. No, He had one option left to him.


The Padawan took two quick steps forward, still just out of striking distance, then lunged with his lightsaber ready to thrust at the Sith's abdomen. No matter if the Sith blocked or not, Leon had to stay on the offensive. A lucky hit was his only chance. His right arm began to lock up even more fully, hindering his strikes, so Leon broke off for a moment to pry his lightsaber out of his hand to continue the fight with his left.

The pain was slowly spreading up his shoulder, to his lower neck and his lungs. each breath was becoming more and more labored, and Leon realized that whatever poison was on the sword, he'd be in big trouble soon. But he couldn't fight, and hold off the poison, and keep the darkness at bay. A master might, but Leon, ill experienced, had no chance.

Union. Harmony. Expansiveness. Infinity. All and everything in total entirety all at one time.

"Asmundr, Ryv, Lucien... everyone...

"My Light is yours. Always."

It was like walking into a warm hug after being out on a cold day. Cold was replaced by warmth, dark by light, pain by comfort. Leon felt every Jedi on Korriban--many he didn't know, some he'd worked with in the past. Auteme and Bernard ...They'd been there on Brentaal, fighting Abaddon alongside him. Brentaal...Leon had used the rage of the dead there to make him be faster and stronger than he thought possible, maybe he could do something like that here, but with the unity and empathy of the living.

Then, another voice rang out, not anyone nearby, but over the comlink.

"This is Ryv, The Sith have completed their ritual. Master Varobalder is holding their power at bay, but he cannot do it for long. I have signaled the dropships to evac us ASAP. Do what you have to and break away from whatever is holding you back. Get to your designated zones, get on your ship, and get the hell out of here. This is an order."

"Masters, get out of here, I'll keep our host busy." The false bravado in his voice sounded like real confidence, though Leon knew the only thing keeping him standing was the meld.

Leon surged forward, using the force to force his muscles to move. He did not bother to slow the progress of the poison, but at least it hadn't reached his legs. The force brought air in and out of his lungs, pumped his heart to keep blood flowing, and moved his left arm to strike at his opponent, Leon wasn't sure how much longer he could keep going, or if he'd survive when he stopped, but he had to fight. The masters needed to escape. They were crucial to victory and keeping the other Jedi going--Leon was not.

Salamander
Asmundr Varobalder
Master Zoryu
Jannik Morlandt​

 

[Salamander]

​

Location: Somewhere on the surface of Korriban
Objective: Fight a Jedi
Gear: Paranoia | Regret | Suspicion | Auger Personal Shield
Writing With: Leon Gallo

“Well. You are pretty damned polite.”

“Thank you, young master Gallo,” Messala replied with a slight bow. He slowly retracted his Force energies from the boy’s nervous system, leaving his pain in a much more manageable state. Then, with a flourish of his blades, he readied himself to continue the duel.

Leon lunged at him, searching for a lucky strike. Given his condition, it was easy enough to sidestep him, slashing at the Padawan’s back with his sword as he passed. Unable to use his right arm fully, Leon switched his lightsaber to his left hand, and seemed to recover some of his lost strength courtesy of Auteme ‘s light.

"Masters, get out of here, I'll keep our host busy."

“Ah, you’re retreating?” Messala guessed. “That changes things.”

He deactivated his lightsaber and sheathed his sword. The edge of the blade was tinged with Leon’s blood. “You’re wounded, boss. Badly. If we keep fighting, that poison will do you in long before I have a chance to. I’d be happy to see you gone, provided you never come back to Korriban again. After all, this isn’t your world—it never has been. It has always been Sith.”

Of course, if the Padawan were foolish enough to keep attacking him, he didn’t need weapons to fight. His ally was the Force, and a powerful ally it was.

 

[Darth Athora]

​

Felucia Space


From the halls of hyperspace, Belderone fleet came roaring out. The behemoth of a Super Star Destroyer that was the Legator II came just behind the rest of the fleet. Imperial ships, massive in scale and armament began to bear down upon the Galactic Alliance forces. Hundreds of starfighters, bombers, and interceptors roared from the many hangars of Belderone fleet and soared to engage enemy fighters in an effort to take the heat off of the stationed Imperial forces.

Like a predator in the wild stalking it's prey, Legator II moved slowly towards the enemy dreadnought. Upon the bridge, Darth Athora stood powerfully and stared down the enemy fleet. As she did, the bridge crew were alive with activity. Shields were on at full effect, weapons were primed and ready to fire. Legator II's main gun, the Helios Cannon took aim at the enemy flagship, but held it's fire for now.

"Focus fire on that Mon Calamari dreadnought. I want that behemoth brought to heel. Have the rest of the fleet fire upon the most opportune targets." Athora commanded.

A massive storm of long range laser fire came upon the Galactic Alliance fleet from the rear as Belderone fleet continued it's slow approach. Legator II unleashed it's vile arsenal of long range artillery and cannons upon the Ouroboros, but continued to hold it's main cannon back.

"Leave none alive. Send word to the governor that I have arrived and she may stop fearing for her life."

Dracken Pryce
Darth Prazutis | Madelyn Lowe | Iasha Rha | Felix Astermo ​

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

Equipment:
Warrior's Skin
Graugothian Chain
The Inferno

Power saturated the temple as The Vortex churned, the disturbance to The Living Force so great that reality distorted around them in the form of blue wisps of light that bathed the cracked stone and ancient dust in a sickly glow. Vulcanus breathed in the anguish of a thousand generations of Sith, groaning in demonic pleasure as he felt the power of Korriban flow through his veins. Tongues of fire curled over his lips as the beast exhaled. He'd never felt power like this. The Darkside was a wild and dangerous thing, something to be tamed and had your will forced upon it. But now, he drank deeply of the power. Now it was as easy as commanding a whipped dog or turning a gas valve.

Breath in power. Exhale destruction.

Vulcanus lowered his head and held Ryv's arm high in the air. The beast's vision blurred for a moment as it struggled to find its new balance and when the arm came into view, Vulcanus smiled. Muscle, bone and tendon hung from sparking wires and jagged metal - blood dripping from moist meat like a sponge that held too much water.

"Where are you now, Effet? Mother?" to the shadows, who were silent for the first time since his arrival on Korriban, "Dead" he reasoned as he dangled the limp prosthetic in the air.

Death had taken them forever as it did all who were too weak to command it otherwise. Vulcanus had tethered himself to this world of the living through the same ritual that ended his first life - and he watched for twenty years as his people grew stronger. As his people worshiped him. When he was resurrected atop that mountain on Atrisia, he was rid of the physical weaknesses his mortal form was stricken by...he had been mistaken to believe all his mortal weaknesses had been destroyed with it.

He was resurrected that day - but he had now been reborn.

There were no phantoms to haunt him now. No past failures. No ghosts to chide him. He had strangled them. Burned them.

He had killed the past. Now there was only his future. His destiny. His divine right.

Krag had been weak and now all that was Krag was dead. Now Vulcanus had his trophy to commemorate the occasion. Swinging the limp arm to his left side, Vulcanus hooked the arm to his armor by an exposed piece of metal. With the quick wrenching of a strap, Vulcanus pinned the arm in place before turning on heel and marching towards his sword - a trail of blood following him as it dripped from his new accessory.

"We aren't done yet, beast"

Vulcanus didn't turn when the Jedi's voice called after him, he simply reached out and wrapped his claws around the hilt of his bone-like blade. "You didn't die. Good" the beast's words were so unlike the creature Ryv had just faced before. The bloodlust hung in every syllable but the focus was so much clearer. So much colder.

Turning over his shoulder, Vulcanus looked at the bleeding form of The Jedi "I feared that had killed far too painlessly" with the strength that had just ripped Ryv's arm from its place, Vulcanus jerked his sword from the stone - a brief spring of fire bursting from the empty crater as The Lord of Embers took the blade into hand.

"I want to you to beg me to end your life. To make the suffering end" the beast's smile returned, "or perhaps I will take your other limbs and make you my slave...a pile of meat flopping on the floor until the sounds you make tire on me"

The razor blade of his Sith Sword glowed red and fire began spilling over the edges of the hilt and then, with yet another burst of strength, Vulcanus drank deeply of The Vortex and cut the air with his sword. As the sword fell through the air it spawned a blade of black fire from its edge, the blade-shaped flame hurling directly toward Ryv.

Carnifex Coren Starchaser Ryv

 

[Felix Astermo]

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

Mockery and the slow death of a thousand cuts - to his prey, it might appear as if it was all a great game, but the truth was more complicated. This one had displayed an ability for swift reactions and brute force and so wearing him down and spurring his fury seemed quite logical. There was power to be found in the throes of anger or depths of fear, but also a certain... predictability. Predictability he could exploit.

He would be lying to himself if he did not admit to some enjoyment, however. Enjoyment that increased manifold when the ritual reached its fruition and the storm ceased, Korriban bowing to its rightful masters as a great vortex of power formed in the distance.

Then, the Jedi smiled - from his ilk, it could mean but two things, acceptance of his impending demise or the certainty of purpose.

It was thus not entirely unexpected when the man lashed out, though the sheer force of it all nonetheless hurled him backwards, robed form forming a long furrow in the sands before he finally came to a stop. For a long moment, it seemed the Sith Lord might not rise at all, but rise he did, painstakingly gaining his feet, certainty returning with every step as he slowly walked towards the exhausted Knight. The bright one was gone, his fate sealed.

"Well fought, young one. Surrender and I may yet collect you, but if not you have earned a warrior's death."

Whatever the Knight's response, it seemed the bright one was back - and brighter than ever, her presence a beacon of hope that he would extinguish. Flicking his wrist in the wounded man's direction, a shard of crystallised sand the size of a man's forearm formed only to be propelled forward.

Only a fool left a living foe at his back with a new threat approaching. Turning his attention fully towards Auteme, Aurum's voice betrayed none of the apprehension he felt at the anathema her power represented. "You are too late, your companion dead or dying. There is nothing left but vengeance."

He knew well from whence her Light sprung - and equally well that it might abandon her if she succumbed to hatred or fear.