Faction Shadows of Ascension | SO/SAO

[Ellissanthia]

Location: Waystation Oasis
Objective: II. Broken Aegis
Sub-Objective: Secure Texts, Relics, and Artifacts
Tag: Serina Calis

Cathartic tears ran freely down Ellissanthia’s cheeks as Serina whispered her praise. It was a praise that the Adept had religiously denied herself, having freely and openly referred to herself as a failure, often unprompted. Thus, it was all she could do to merely breathe as she broke down before the woman. Her touch was magnetic. And her voice was like music to tortured ears, the sensual caress of her breath causing the Undine’s heart to hammer inside her chest.

Then, there were her eyes.

Ellissanthia looked up at Serina, mewling softly as the woman threaded her fingers through her hair. The Undine was suddenly aware of how weak and pathetic she might have appeared then, knelt before a total stranger. However, she could not summon the dignity to amend the situation.

She was a failure, after all.

When Serina drew back, Ellissanthia shuddered in response to the sudden absence of her touch. Nevertheless, at her command to follow, the Undine composed herself and rose to her feet, before following in the woman’s wake like a kitten on the heels of its owner. Then, after the guards departed to push deeper into the station, Ellissanthia found herself standing before the chapterhouse. Its imposing durasteel doors were the only barrier separating the two from the prizes that waited inside.

“I am ready, Lady Calis.” She answered, using the same form of address as the guards had moments prior. Then, stepping forward, Ellissanthia took a deep breath and tapped into the ambient darkness perfusing the station once more. The Undine shuddered, gritting her teeth as its power washed over her, amplifying her emotions in the process.

Then, giving a sharp, high-pitched shriek, Ellissanthia released it.

A wave of explosive Force Destruction tore out from her palms, vaporizing the durasteel doors in a fiery detonation of raw Dark Side energy which consumed everything that it touched. In the moments that followed, the air grew thick with the acrid scent of metallic vapor, lingering smoke briefly obscuring vision until Ellissanthia’s helmet visor picked out two signatures amidst the haze.

At that point, the Jedi and their servants—consumed by rage and feral darkness—rushed out from the chapterhouse towards the pair, screams, curses, and cries spilling from their lips as savage armaments were raised to strike!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Pulsiva Bodysuit Mk. II
  
  • Boots
    
    • FAE/A-14 Energized Foot Gear
      
      • Jetboot Thrusters Removed
  • Helmet
    
    • FAE/U-06 Collapsing Mirrors
  • Miscellaneous Equipment
    
    • FAE/C-04 Dermal Hydration System
    • FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
  • Aesthetic and Accouterments
    
    • All White Coloring
    • Eclipse Sect Symbol - Left Breast
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Standard Lightsaber
  
  • Purple Blade
• Supernal Infusion Vials
• Spirit Anchor Talisman

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: ???
Tag: Ellissanthia
​

The moment the durasteel doors were obliterated in a wave of fiery energy, Serina inhaled deeply, her body shivering with pleasure at the raw destruction Ellissanthia had wrought. She did not need to say it aloud, but her lips parted, a breathy sigh escaping them. Oh, how beautiful it is when they finally give in…

And now, the beasts came howling forth from the shattered husk of the chapterhouse. Jedi and their once-loyal servants, stripped of reason, overcome by blind, feral rage. Serina's piercing gaze swept over them, her expression not one of urgency or concern—but of amusement, of desire.

Their loss of control was her ultimate pleasure.

A slow, deliberate motion—the fluid grace of a queen, not a warrior. Serina reached behind her, her fingers gliding over the midnight-dark haft of Ebon Requiem. Her grip tightened, relishing the sensation, the absolute certainty of the weapon in her hands. It was heavy, demanding, an extension of herself, and as she unslung it from her back, she held it before her, admiring the faint glow of its etched obsidian.

A twisted, delighted smile spread across her lips as the Jedi surged toward her, their screams and fury feeding the Seed of Rage, turning them into creatures of impulse. Disgusting. They fought without thought, without artistry, without the beauty of knowing one's own darkness.

They were no better than animals.

How could she not humiliate them?

Her body shifted—elegant, poised—like a dancer stepping onto a stage. And then, with an almost delicate motion, she moved.

The first Jedi, a Nautolan male, rushed at her with his saber raised high, his strike clumsy, driven purely by the madness the Seed had forced upon him. Serina watched him as one might watch a child flailing helplessly in the deep end of a pool.

How pathetic.

She did not step back—no, she welcomed him in. In one swift motion, she tilted Ebon Requiem just enough for his lightsaber to slide against its phrik edge, locking the weapons together for but a fraction of a second. His form was exposed. Wide open.

Serina purred in amusement.

And then she moved.

A fluid pivot of her body—like a lover twirling away from an embrace—brought the halberd's spiked tip around in a devastating thrust. It impaled him. The phrik tip punched through his gut and out his back, the sound of rending flesh and shattering bone bringing a shudder of satisfaction up her spine. The Jedi gasped, his eyes wide, his saber falling from his grasp as his fingers twitched in shock.

Serina leaned in close, her lips just inches from his trembling mouth.

"Tell me, little Jedi," she whispered, her voice saccharine, taunting, "does it hurt?"

He could not answer, only choke on his own blood.

With a sickening wrench, Serina pulled the halberd free, his body crumpling to the ground. But there was no time to savor the kill. Another rushed her—a human female, her face twisted in rage, her eyes glowing with hatred.

Serina laughed, laughed as if this was all a grand joke, as if their suffering was the most delightful thing she had ever seen.

"You come to me so eagerly?" she cooed. "Very well."

She met the Jedi's charge with deceptive grace. At the last second, she stepped aside, allowing her attacker's momentum to betray her. A cruel twist of her wrist sent the curved hook of Ebon Requiem catching beneath the Jedi's ribs—hooking deep.

A soft, breathy gasp left Serina's lips.

So intimate.

With one vicious pull, the Jedi was ripped from her feet, yanked into the air like a fish caught on a line. Serina spun her halberd, sending the dying woman crashing into the nearest wall. Bones shattered, flesh tore, and as the Jedi slumped, blood pooling at her feet, Serina tilted her head, admiring her own work.

"Mmm... exquisite."

And still, more came.

Serina danced among them, each movement calculated, each strike measured, artisanal in its precision. Ebon Requiem was an extension of her—an instrument of divine cruelty, its heavy, devastating swings punctuated with an elegance only she could wield.

One fell to a brutal, sweeping arc—his legs sheared from beneath him. Another found himself caught on the halberd's hook—dragged in, forced to look into her eyes before she slit his throat with a whispering flick of the blade.

Her strikes were lewd in their indulgence, every movement lingering, every kill a caress.

Blood splattered across her armor, painting the crimson etchings of her halberd in new hues of red.

She basked in it.

Serina knew what she was doing. This display—it was for her. She needed Ellissanthia to see what true power looked like, what true artistry in the Dark Side meant. This was not brute force, not the wild, mindless rage of the Sith.

This was calculated.

This was deliberate.

This was divine.

 

[Ellissanthia]

Location: Waystation Oasis
Objective: II. Broken Aegis
Sub-Objective: Secure Texts, Relics, and Artifacts
Tag: Serina Calis

Ellissanthia narrowed her eyes as the maddened beasts which had once been complex, feeling sentient beings charged the pair. Reduced to little more than base primordial instincts, the Jedi and their servants slavered at the prospect of slaughter in quite the literal sense, reminding her quite distinctly of the Massassi she had fought on Yavin IV.

And yet, the Massassi, as outwardly bestial and brutish as they were, had held onto more of their sentience than the ravenous thralls before her now.

How little it took for such rational, empathetic beings to be reduced to mere animals!

Thus, as a group of six beasts charged her—frenzied remnants of the Chapterhouse’s non-Force-sensitive security force—Ellissanthia brought her arms into the Potency battle stance and tapped into the Dark Side energy which was now perfusing the area in such great volume that it was almost intoxicating. A wicked, wide-eyed expression twisted her features as she extended her left arm towards the howling once-security officers, at which point searing, explosive Lightning ripped out from her manicured nails in a brief, coruscating discharge. With it came a sharp, reverberating crack from the traumatic expansion of the air surrounding the electrical channels, the horde was sent flying back as electricity boiled them from within. At that point, a number of their bodies crashed into the nearby walls with the sickening crunch of bone and bursting organs, before slumping down to the floor.

From there, a pair of Jedi set their sights on Ellissanthia, lightsabers crackling sparks from rough use and lack of maintenance. One, a hulking elder Wookiee, gave a savage roar before sprinting towards her with its greatsaber raised. The Undine angled her left hand towards the charging once-Jedi and locked the index and middle fingers together. A concussive burst of pressurized air tore out from her fingers in the form of a narrow, transparent beam, generating an earsplitting boom as the air was forced into a narrow supersonic channel. The Wookiee was immediately sliced in twain as the hyperpressurized air ripped through its body like an invisible lance, sending bloodied halves flying back.

Undeterred, the other Jedi—a lithe-figured female Echani—unleashed a high-pitched scream before throwing herself upon Ellissanthia, twin lightsabers flashing with unrestrained violence. The Undine growled as she activated her own lightsaber in turn, the violet-hued blade rising to meet and parry the incoming blows. Unlike Serina, she was no artist or dancer with a blade. Her strikes, at the few moments she could manage them amidst the flurry of attacks, were inelegant and slow. She grunted as she gave them, desperation manifesting across her features.

Then, came an opening.

Ellissanthia counterattacked just as Echani drew her blades back from the downswing. Extending her arm, the Undine called a fallen vibroblade from the ground, before telekinetically driving the blade through the Jedi’s heart just as she raised her arms to deliver an overhead strike.

The Echani fell to the ground with a choked gasp, but Ellissanthia spared her no further attention before stepping over her twitching, dying form. Even with the acrid stench of burning ozone and charred flesh filling the air, the Undine found herself briefly slack-jawed as Serina cut her way through the ravenous hordes with indulgent, artistic strikes that were almost lurid in their exaggeration. She was immediately compelled to follow her as she led the way into the chapterhouse, and thereafter, the archives.

And there, amidst the long rows of shelves and cases, were the secrets that they craved.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Pulsiva Bodysuit Mk. II
  
  • Boots
    
    • FAE/A-14 Energized Foot Gear
      
      • Jetboot Thrusters Removed
  • Helmet
    
    • FAE/U-06 Collapsing Mirrors
  • Miscellaneous Equipment
    
    • FAE/C-04 Dermal Hydration System
    • FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
  • Aesthetic and Accouterments
    
    • All White Coloring
    • Eclipse Sect Symbol - Left Breast
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• Standard Lightsaber
  
  • Purple Blade
• Supernal Infusion Vials
• Spirit Anchor Talisman

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: ???
Tag: Ellissanthia
​

The archive was quiet. Silent, in stark contrast to the bloodshed and carnage that had just painted the chapterhouse in a beautiful display of crimson artistry.

Serina stepped into the chamber as if entering a lover's embrace, slow, deliberate, drinking in the sight before her like the finest vintage. Her halberd, Ebon Requiem, was still slick with blood, its glowing etchings pulsing in rhythm with her own pleasure, her own ecstasy at what they had done. The heavy scent of death clung to her skin, to her armor, to her very soul. And she relished it.

Her breath was unsteady, not from exertion, but from the sheer, overwhelming delight that coursed through her veins. The way her body shuddered with aftershocks of satisfaction, the way her pupils were wide, hungry, desperate for more.

And then, she saw them.

Artifacts of the Light.

Rows of carefully preserved tomes, reliquaries containing kyber crystals once kissed by the warmth of Jedi hands, holocrons humming with the secrets of generations of Jedi Masters.

She exhaled a trembling sigh, stepping forward with reverence, fingers brushing against the surface of an ancient tome. Sacred. So pure.

Her lips parted in a breathy moan.

"Oh, Adept..." she whispered, her voice dripping with insatiable pleasure. "Do you see what we have done?"

She turned, facing the Undine, her expression one of rapturous lust, of unfiltered indulgence.

"This..." she traced a clawed finger along the spines of the tomes, shivering as if the very touch of such untainted Light sent jolts of darkened pleasure through her veins, "this is what I live for. To corrupt. To defile. To eclipse everything until all that remains is the Dark."

Her breath hitched as she grasped one of the holocrons, cradling it as one might hold a lover. Her nails scraped against its surface, as if savoring the sensation, drawing out the tension, the anticipation, the inevitable moment of consumption.

"This knowledge... untouched. Preserved. Passed down from Jedi to Jedi, never knowing... never imagining that it would end up in my hands."

Her fingers tightened, pressing into the crystalline structure of the holocron, her pleasure at its fragility, its innocence, nearly sending her into a blissful shudder.

"I will take this knowledge. I will bend it. I will twist it. I will violate it in ways those pitiful fools never dreamed possible."

Her voice was trembling now, raw, breathless, wanton in its lust.

She turned back to Ellissanthia, eyes wild, gleaming, her breath hitching with each word.

"Do you understand now?" she whispered, stepping close—too close—until their bodies were mere inches apart. "This... this is what it means to eclipse everything. Not destruction. Not slaughter alone. But corruption."

She reached up, cupping the Undine's face, her thumb brushing over the tear-streaked skin, the remnants of her cathartic surrender to the Dark.

"You, my sweet, beautiful Adept... you are mine now. My creation."

Her lips curled, pressing close to the Undine's ear, her breath warm, inviting, seductive.

"And together... we will take everything."

Her fingers tightened against the holocron in her other hand, her body thrumming with sheer, overwhelming, climactic pleasure.

The Light would fade.

The Dark would consume.

And she would revel in it until the very stars burned out.

 

[Crane Baxa]

Objective II: Broken Aegis
Sub-Objective: All Must Fall, Protect MY Gains

Tags: Serina Calis Ellissanthia

Allies: None
Enemies: Everyone


The soft hum of a lightsaber echoed into the nearby chambers, the soft shine in the chapterhouse would to those nearby a soft glimmer of orange. It would extinguish rather quickly as a rummaging sound would echo in the chapterhouse, the soft chittering of teeth as a soft glimmer of reflected light would now pierce through the shadows. A fast rumble of scratching metal would soon happen, something climbing, a clattering of something severely unnatural skittering into the ceiling, into the walls of the station at large. The Chadra-Fan felt the rage, the undesirable strength and the unyielding want that came from his carefully wrapped up condition of his, his kleptomania was in the best sense, running at a fevers pitch. Almost as if he was years younger, so long ago in his career where he cared not for whom he made enemies with and even more so from those he pillaged without safety in mind.

Without ever knowing that he, a Chadra-Fan, had been put into the grips of the Seed of Rage, he threw himself into stealing virtually anything of value, not bolted to the ground. Whether people gave it to him or not...was the truest extent of madness and greed. From afar, the sounds of the creature would echo where silence had taken over in the station, slamming into parts of the ducts and going through sections of the walls, having learned so quickly how to get around without being seen.

As the rat like creature, some whom would have called it a bat, crawled through the ducts, a fresh smell erupted into the nostrils. The scent of death...it meant opportunity, chances at acquiring more things...things that were worth credits, things that were valuable! As the words echoed out from a particular female in the room, the Chadra-Fans head would slowly lean down from one of the nearby destroyed vents. The visor on his destroyed eyes would zoom in, taking a look at what was potentially valuable targets...an open library of knowledge, artifacts that could be sold on the open market for a considerable sum of credits!

From nearby was the fresh kills of the Jedi, lightsabers were also visible...out of view from what he considered currently his "rivals" in business. There was no need to reveal himself just yet! Slowly, the Chadra-Fan focused as the two lightsabers slowly raised themselves in the air, going towards the vent as they would be picked up into his vast "collection" of new shiny objects. It was only after he grabbed the two damaged and barely functional lightsabers did he focus further away, trying to stealthily take trinket...after trinket...after trinket from the recently opened vault from above their heads.

One by one, small objects such as datachips and small crystals may be lifted above them and soon to be pilfered by one very unwanted Chadra-Fan. Hovering just out of reach above them, the now deranged creature was trying to steal what the other two might consider what was their own rightfully stolen! Though hanging out just his head from the vent as he was collecting them one by one, he seemed to be more of an annoying loot jawa than anything else right now.

 

[Darth Imperius]

Waystation Oasis | Corridors

• Objective: I. Oasis Purged
• Tags:
  • Adversary: Raged Populace
• Theme: Disposal Unit

Darth Imperius stood in front of the Seed. Its black crystal held horizontally in the construct of red and black metal, it almost looked ridiculous, strange. He had seen it last when he had sent it on its way to this place, when he sent the vicious device to do unspeakable harm and inflict terror beyond imagination. It was a trial, it was a test and nothing else. This prototype offered them not only the certainty of its machinations but also the sweet touch of the purity of the Dark side. It was perfect.

Now it had been turned into a shrine in one of the cargo bays of Waystation Oasis. Candles flickered, their wax having dropped and run down in fantastic shapes and extensive lengths, decorating the Seed. Offerings ranged from coins, now rotten food and personal belongings to trophies, bones, teeth, skulls, some fresh, some days old, some perfectly clean, some with most organic tissue on them were spreading a stench that was vile.

The bodywork of the device seemed like someone had tried to destroy it, some metal was scarred, scorched even. The last marks of sanity aboard the lost space station. With a swipe of his hand, the Force violently swept all offerings off of it and against the nearby walls, shattering much of it.

"Enough playing. Cleanse this place." His voice echoed through both the cargo bay and the comms. Several Terminus Knight squads would soon after board the ship, accompanied by droids and Stormtroopers of the Hand and eradicate everything living from it. The Sith and allies that came, could take what they claimed and depart, but the Hand of the Heir would remain, preparing the station. Darth Imperius himself marched back to his shuttle, the Seed of Rage carried by one of his Extremis Paladins.

Ascension was close.

THE END

Equipment
| Lightsaber | Greatsword | Armor | Amulet | Shuttle |

Darth Callidus | Alina Tremiru | Ellissanthia | Serina Calis | Credius Nargath | Zanami | Lirka Ka | Crane Baxa
Thanks for participating! Sorry for the fade out. ​