Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Annihilation Shatterpoint | BotM Annihilation of GA Held Tython

E T E R N A L - E M P R E S S
Moderator
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
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Objective: Try to assassinate Darth Solipsis
Location: Akar Kesh, Tython
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
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[ Lady of the Dark ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Ingrid feels her soul wants to connect to the ritual, but she is able to struggle with the feeling.
  • Ingrid tries to make Zach realise what this ritual is and what he thinks will happen.
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
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Objective: Try to assassinate Darth Solipsis
Location: Surface, Tython
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
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[ Lady of the Dark ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Ingrid arrives to the place where she senses Solipsis, but Zachariel is in her way.

This day was interesting for the woman. Dromund Kaas was the first time that the Eternal Empire could actually reappear among the great powers of the Galaxy. Today was the second. They used to be there with Csilla and Korriban when the Ashlan Crusade tried to destroy the planet, though it wasn't very significant. But now yes; they were present with considerable force both on ground and in space. However, this day was strange and unusual.

The Maw was definitely the enemy of the Eternal Empire, and the Eternal Empress wanted them to fall, because of their actions, because of their methods. However, the fact did not matter at all whether or not Maw would be successful in destroying the planet. If so, well, there will be three fewer Nexus in the galaxy. They even do the Wardens of the Shroud a favour. At least the Wardens don’t have to perform openly and try something like that.

However, Ingrid was interested in something else today. She, like a lot of people in the galaxy, wanted to kill Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis . And the man was here on the planet. It was hard to not sense him as he was surrounded with the darkest focal point on the planet. And the Dark Side attracted her. Not because she was one of them; simply, it aroused much more hunger in the red-haired woman. Absorb and devour their power, as she did with the energies of Carnifex and Prazutis when they fought.

She was in constant contact with Baron Reinhardt Ström Baron Reinhardt Ström and Aximand Sicarus Aximand Sicarus ; the two men were responsible for ground and space battles, respectively. She asked them for constant reports. They knew the woman wanted to hunt down Solipsis on the planet's surface. Behead the snake, once and for all. That’s why she left her own troops when she sensed that Dark Voice was on the planet, too. Ingrid teleported near that place. However, here, before she could get close to Dark Voice, someone was already waiting for the Eternal Empress…

The man promised this at the Netherworld that this would happen. As she did as well, that is, she'll kill him, if he does not stand aside. Nevertheless, the woman had not yet attacked, but given her lover, the warlord of the Bloodsworn Tribe, a chance. A chance to live.

"Get out of my way Zachariel! You won’t get a second chance to stand aside!" her voice was ice cold, emotionless, now it didn't have the usual passionate and playful tone in her voice that the woman usually speaks to her lover when they are alone.

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Objective: Tython Accord
Location: Surface, Naboo
Equipment: Equipment: The Soulsabers (hidden) | Brynja coat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Tags: Baron Reinhardt Ström Baron Reinhardt Ström | Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe | Balt Vizsla | Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Open
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[ Lady of the Dark ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Ingrid arrives to the meeting.

Naboo; ironically the former capital of the CIS. Although Ingrid agreed that it would have been difficult to choose a more iconic neutral venue for this meeting. The Eternal Empire said yes to GA's request and they travelled to the planet. Ingrid, as usual lately, was accompanied by Baron Reinhardt Ström Baron Reinhardt Ström . The grumpy uncle; most of all it was the best token the Eternal Empress found about the man.

After landing, she was walking along the ramp, accompanied by the four bodyguards, and on the "runway" to the vehicle, which would take her to the rendezvous site. Ingrid had never loved bodyguards, but it was now a situation where it was all mandatory. There was also a fifth bodyguard with her, invisible. She trusted him the best of those present. NN220, formerly known as Alain Price. Commander-in-Chief of Shadow Company. The man was there with her at NIO and GA talks, and whenever she was negotiating with the AC. Only no one knew about it.

The last meeting with GA was quite tense, and although results were achieved, it was ironically easier to negotiate with the NIO. They were more like them.

<"Overseer, please try to be restrained. If the data is correct, the Enclave will also be present. It would be unfortunate if GA were turned against us as they are allies. Let the Enclave look like barbarians, savages, not us. We are more civilised than they are."> she told him.

They soon arrived at the meeting place. Here, she allowed the members of the delegation, or rather the reception committee, to accompany her into the meeting room. If all is true, Tithe was already here, and she greeted the man with joy.

"Old friend, Chancellor! Nice to meet you again in person. It last happened a long time ago." she greeted Tithe and gave a hand, accompanied by a sincere and kind smile.

Ever since they last met on Coruscant during her captivity, Ingrid hasn't aged a minute. Besides, one thing was still the same, the red-haired woman was really happy to see the Chancellor.

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Objective 1/3
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim | Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis | Hi'los Krai
Anyone else warposting and attacking Akar Kesh, if you wish to fight, feel free to reach out :)
Duel: CLOSED
Warpost: DM me to work something out, NuMo#0475
Links: Weapons | Some vehicles and other stuff​

Tython, final objective of the Brotherhood, last desperate gamble to destroy the homeworld of the Jedi. The Brotherhood had traveled far for this, sacrificed much, and they would sacrifice even more to achieve their goals. With any luck, they would succeed and leave the planet a desolate wasteland, or a debris field.

However, as the Bloodsworn took up position around Akar Kesh, as Zachariel stood to the defenses, he wondered how possible it truly was. As a warlord, the gen'dai was fed constant reports from every source he could get his hands on. Their reports were grim. If they didn't succeed now in reshaping the galaxy… well, they would burn that bridge should they need to.

For now, Zachariel had defenses to organize and a lover to hold off. He knew, all in the Maw knew, that the alliance would attack this place, seeking to kill Solipsis and stop the ritual. As such, there were those to stand in their way. The Bloodsworn were simply one of those defenders, and Zachariel one of its leaders.

Standing on the rocky outcrop, he looked across the rough defensive lines, and grinned. No matter what happened, this would be bloody. He could already feel it in the Force, the death and bloodshed that was happening and that would. Closing his eyes, the warlord breathed deeply of that rich scent.

--------

Opening his eyes, Zachariel's gaze swept the area. The scenery had changed, no longer was he atop a rocky outcropping, now he stood in a sort of dip in the mountain. He had left his prior position in search of a better place to fight, a place where someone may try to sneak past. This was all but perfect for it, and as Ingrid materialized across from him, he chuckled and shook his head. She had become somewhat predictable, at least to him. It helped that he knew her plans to kill Solipsis.

Her short declaration made him shake his head once more, arms still folded behind his back. They both knew the times for games had passed, now was a time for action. And that meant neither could stand down.
"My dear, you know as well as I, that won't happen."

Moving his arms from his back to his sides, he smoothly unholstered his weapons at the same time. Axe in one hand, sword in the other, Zachariel stood ready to fight, yet he didn't move.


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In the defense of Akar Kesh and Solipsis, all that could be done to defend the Voice, had been done. In the case of the Bloodsworn, they were hardly used to being on the defensive. But needs must. As such, they set about with all their usual skill and no small amount of gusto, eager to fight in the shadow of their warlord and the Dark Voice once more.

Where they could, trenches had been hastily dug in what small time they had. However, these were hardly extensive and were instead focused on single squads. Most squads simply used the environment and their vehicles for cover. Others still were atop speeders and other vehicles, prepared to rush forward once the enemy engaged. The response of the Bloodsworn was many and varied, but they stood ready to defend Akar Kesh.

Heavy weapon teams set up on overlooks, regular squads huddled in cover, and others still prepared to rush forth. Above the din and clamor of war, the Chosen directed the loyal followers of the Bloodsworn, even as they too readied for war. Their orders had been simple, hold off any who dared try and interrupt the ritual.

War returned to this part of Tython, and the Bloodsworn began their desperate fight to hold off the allied forces. Across their lines, fire began to pour forth and war cries left their lips.
"For the glory of the Bloodsworn! For the Dark Three!"

And thus, the Bloodsworn fought.

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Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
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Objective: Try to assassinate Darth Solipsis
Location: Surface, Tython
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
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[ Lady of the Dark ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Ingrid not attacks Zach yet, but gives him a second chance to change his mind.

"This is your last chance to change your mind." she told him aloud.

~ I don't care if the Maw destroys this planet and the two moons. We will only win if there are three Nexus less in the galaxy… ~ she continued in a telepathic way.

"But your ruler must die today." and finished her words aloud again.

She really didn’t care about the planet and its fate. Zach needed to know exactly that. The red-haired woman watched as the man pulled out his weapons. She hasn't done the same yet. Ingrid still trusted that the man would have a better insight and decide he would let her do what she needed to do. Under her helmet, she smiled bitterly for a moment when she saw the weapons. They were dreadful weapons against anyone. But not against Ingrid. Those were only an ordinary sword and an axe against the woman; two resistant weapons, nothing more.

"I hope you know they are ineffective against me." she told him as she tilted her head a little.

There was no doubt that she would make the man's weapons in such a way that Zachariel would never be able to use them against her. The red-haired woman trusted the man as much as possible for her, but Ingrid was also paranoid. She left nothing to chance. Especially not her life. The Empress knew Zach was stubborn, so she hadn't walked in the direction of the man yet, because she expected the man to attack her at that moment.

"Be a good boy, drop your weapons and get out of my way!" she said.

She still hadn't pulled out her own weapons, Zach only got a second chance because the woman was enjoying her lover's company too much… however, there will be no third chance.

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Objective 1/3
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim
Anyone else warposting and attacking Akar Kesh, if you wish to fight, feel free to reach out :)
Duel: CLOSED
Warpost: DM me to work something out, NuMo#0475
Links: Weapons | Some vehicles and other stuff

Snorting at her words, he shakes his head again. At her telepathic words, he scoffed. She still didn't understand, then again, the truth was hidden. The Maw wasn't simply here to destroy Tython, but tear the galaxy apart. Reaching out telepathically, he responded.
"Ingrid, one planet and all its moons aren't the goal of the Brotherhood. This ritual, it will destroy more than just Tython, it will split the galaxy in two."

Aloud, he laughed and responded with utter confidence.
"Solipsis will not die this day, and even if he should, it won't be by your hand."

Through this though, he understood what she meant. This world was simply one other to her, the same as it was to him. At the same time, it was the make or break it point for the Brotherhood. Succeed or fail, the success of the ritual would determine it all. And Zachariel would not allow Ingrid to interrupt it. And thus, despite her hopes that he would see reason, he wouldn't see her reason. Twirling them as she spoke of how ineffective they would be against her, he shook his head.

"In the end, they are still sharpened pieces of metal. More than enough with which to remove your head from your shoulders." Smirking, he cocked his head to the side. "Though the powers you imbued into these weapons have certainly come in handy. For that, I thank you."

"Further, one is yours, one is not." Holding the sword up before his helmet, in a salute of sorts, he lowered it and repeated it with the sword. "Which is it?"

Weapons at his side once more, the warlord made no move to lower either blade. She could try all she wanted, but he wouldn't move. She would not pass him this day, that he would make certain of. Twirling them idly by his sides, he still made no further moves. Ingrid expected him to rush her, he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. And so, he fully expected some sneak attack from his lover, so he watched, and waited for her to attack first, making it clear hers was the first move.


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Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
objiiii.png
Objective: Try to assassinate Darth Solipsis
Location: Akar Kesh, Tython
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
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[ Lady of the Dark ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Ingrid speaks Zach, and teleports after him, and continues her walking towards the temple.

"Zach, this is not how the Force works… Politically, yes he can divide and split diplomatic and political axes into two. But he can't do more damage to the Force than a local damage." she told him.

Through Zach, she had some idea of what Solipsis wanted. Large-scale plans. Maybe it would have been feasible, but only if all the major Nexus in the galaxy were attacked at once. However, she saw in the man's posture that he finally understood what the woman was thinking. That she wasn't here to protect the planet. This place did not matter to the Eternal Empire. Not really. And the woman would have sacrificed any planet in the galaxy to get the Eternal Empire to achieve its goals and get closer to the final plans of the Wardens of the Shroud.

Unlike her daughter, the Empress of the Eternal Empire was not a Saint. Neither literally nor figuratively.

But like everyone in this galaxy, she had to pretend. Alright, Maw didn't pretend, but everyone else did. No one was as spotlessly clean and good as they had shown themselves to be. There was a common enemy, yes. But nothing more. She or anyone who thought long-term was ready to compromise with others. For bigger plans, for ultimate success, for the well-being of the Empire and its citizens. That was something Ström didn't understand either; the "grumpy uncle" was a great soldier but a terrible politician.

"The NIO has already stolen from me the chance to kill the Emperor of the Sith Empire, you won't steal my chance to kill Solipsis." she told him.

That is, the case still hurt the woman's ego, it would have been the culmination of her assassination career. Actually, maybe it wasn't the NIO, it was Grayson. But it no longer mattered, nearly ten years after the war ended, the present was important. She sighed under her helmet again. She knew Zach knew exactly that it would be smoke if he cut off her head. Because of the Sith, she was not a human being for a very long time ago.

"Are you sure my head is truly my head?" she asked with a chuckle, mockingly, alluding to being a semi-Force entity who typically consists of smoke and transforms.

Ingrid finally took out the two daggers. Not the swords, not the lightsaber with pieces of Adrian's soul, but the two simple military knives. The red-haired woman concentrated for a moment and was no longer there. She hadn't attacked Zachariel yet, just teleported past him. She appeared again behind the man's back, at least a good six to eight metres. She looked back at the man for a moment, then walked on to the temple.

"Behind you, honey!" she said back to the man.

At that moment, she also felt that Eina and Geiseric had arrived on the planet, not so far from her and Zach.

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Objective 1/3
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim
Anyone else warposting and attacking Akar Kesh, if you wish to fight, feel free to reach out :)
Duel: CLOSED
Warpost: DM me to work something out, NuMo#0475
Links: Weapons | Some vehicles and other stuff​


"Then you understand little of the ritual planned this day."
Cackling laughter came forth from him. Perhaps she was right, perhaps she was wrong. It changed little, she would not pass. No matter that their goals aligned so often, or that she too wished to see the Force destroyed, or at least weakened. Both of them would burn anything to see things through, but she saw the need to kill Solipsis to reach those goals. Zachariel saw the need to keep him, for he was the primary reason the Brotherhood had taken such prominence.

The two of them knew that was their greatest weakness, their fractious nature. It was their true nature, and they didn't hide it. That gave them strength, the challenge to overcome and prove oneself to others. Compared to Ingrid, who even now spoke of her failure to kill another leader of her enemies. Had the true, factitious nature been allowed to be free, she may have succeeded. At the very least, there would have been a higher chance of success. But, because she had to 'play nice,' she couldn't take the EE against the NIO. Not while a greater threat remained. The Brotherhood was not so limited, letting Zachariel grin at his lover, seeing but another point where they were better.

Snorting at her, he shook his head as well.
"Physical or not, the point still remains."

As Ingrid pulls out her weapons, Zachariel stops twirling his own blades, focusing fully on her. He was expecting some surprise attack from her, so as soon as she vanished, he knew she teleported. As such, he whirled around, sword and axe flashing to cut behind him. Only, instead of cutting through flesh or clashing with steel, they cut through nothing. Growling upon seeing her so far away, he knew she didn't plan to fight him, only avoid him. Calling out to her with a scowl, his voice was filled with annoyance.
"Running my dear?"

Then, with an effort of will, he teleported as well. It had been something he'd been practicing for some time now, having seen the need to learn such a skill after being stuck in the Nether before Ingrid rescued him. Now he had learned the skill, after much trial and error, though he was hardly experienced at it. Nor could he go far, but it was enough to get him before Ingrid. And there he appeared, a mere meter before his lover. With a snarl on his lips, he swung his blades at her.
"Not so fast."


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Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
objiiii.png
Objective: Try to assassinate Darth Solipsis
Location: Akar Kesh, Tython
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
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[ Lady of the Dark ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Ingrid attacks back and tried to force Zach to make a mistake.

"Or you think he's more than he really is!" she replied without thinking.

Zachariel would not have been the first to attribute too much power to Dark Voice. Essentially, the entire Maw was built on that. She really hoped it wasn't like that, because she knew the man much more intelligently than that. Sure, she knew the man loved chaos, bloodshed, and the gen'dai couldn’t really think with a clear head during a fight, but he could be quite intelligent except for the fight anyway. However, his current words and reactions have destroyed this previously set up picture. To the woman's greatest regret.

Yes, Ingrid really had to play the "good"; though in her eyes there was neither evil nor cruelty in wanting to destroy the Force. It was something in the woman's eyes that would free the galaxy from the chains of the Force. It would finally free all the peoples of the galaxy. But it was quite a double view. On the one hand, she wanted this, and on the other hand, she would not be willing to pay the price to kill half the galaxy for it.

She knew the Netherworld was probably going extinct, but that was another matter. Although she was part of Netherworld, she belonged there much more than Realspace; she would have sacrificed the souls of the dead. Living creatures were a completely different matter, falling into a completely different category. She would have sacrificed herself, but not the innumerable other lives. That’s why the red-haired woman decided she would never join Maw, even if there were common interests. She did not accept the methods of either the Sith or the Maw.

"If I am one with the shadows, how do you want to solve it?" now her voice was mocking a very little.

Before teleporting, she showed him how she is able to melt into the darkness, into the shadows. After all, the Night Spirit transformed her body when she wanted her as a new host. Ingrid was the creature of the night, and now there was darkness in the middle of the Force Storm and all around them. After teleporting, she sensed that Zach was preparing to attack, but she wasn't there. The Empress laughed softly at her usual voice, like when a lover caresses her chosen one.

"I'm walking, honey! I'm walking!" she teases him.

The next moment, the man appeared in front of her and had already attacked. Ingrid lifted the dagger and stopped the blade swinging towards it. They knew each other's fighting skills very well, and of course each other. That's why she was made with something unexpected. She retaliated, however, not to the man, but at the skulls on the armour. The red-haired woman tried to smash one after the other, Zach's trophies. She wanted to anger the man to force a mistake, she was not a soldier against Zach, but an assassin. The vile game was part of the fight.

"If you think I don't understand the purpose of the ritual, tell me I think we have time for this!" she told him as she tried to crush another skull on the armour.

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Objective 1/3
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim | Judah Lesan | Damsy Callat | Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis
Duel: CLOSED
Warpost: Anyone else warposting and attacking Akar Kesh, if you wish to join the fight, feel free to! Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!
Links: Weapons | Chosen | Some vehicles and other stuff​


Laughing darkly at those words, the warlord shakes his head once more.
"No, dear Ingrid. You think he's less than he is. Tell me, who else could have organized us? Who in all the galaxy could have brought about such a change?"

He gave her a moment to think, to realize what he said to be true.
"No one! Oh, there have been great leaders, those who brought about much change. But none have ever united the entire galaxy against them, none have wrought so much destruction so quickly. Others have been reviled, hated and thrown down. But they have had allies, become strong over the course of many, many decades. We have nothing and no one but the Avatars and ourselves! Our rise to fame and power happened far faster than any could predict, than any could slow. And that will bring about the change this galaxy so desperately needs, change the Avatars will bring."

She thought him lesser for attributing such power to Solipsis. He knew otherwise, the same way he knew the power of the Avatars. In his millennia of life, he had seen much, experienced more. Zachariel had seen powerful figures rise and fall, fought for and against them, watching them succeed and fail in equal measure. But their changes had been slow, easily removed, and far too reliant on just one aspect of the galaxy. The Brotherhood was not so limited, their changes evident for centuries to come. No one would forget them, no one.
"You believe he does not hold such power, you haven't seen what he is capable of. Nor have you seen the powers that aid him. All you see is falsehoods and lies, I tell you nothing but the truth. When this ritual succeed, the galaxy will be changed. And we will ensure it succeeds, no matter the cost."

The cost of this battle would be high, the slog here had been higher. But it had been a cost they had willingly paid. Staring down at Ingrid, he sneers. She wants to change the galaxy but won't pay the price for it, so she must be dragged into the reality, or left behind. He had thought she may change, see the truth. But considering her disbelief even now, he wondered if that would actually happen. Time would tell, but he began to doubt her then, doubted she would truly follow through.

Twirling his blades at her words, he simply continues to glare at her. If she didn't follow through, then what use would she be in the long run. Spinning about to slice behind himself as she teleported, he pushed those thoughts aside. Most likely, those answers would not be had today, so he focused on stopping her advance towards Solipsis. Teleporting before her, he strikes once more, only for her to block his strikes. Pushing in, he snarls at her, lenses glowing a dark crimson in echo of his anger.

This anger is broken as she suddenly strikes. He had expected her to attack as well, so at her strike he blocks the usual points she has struck. Except now, her blade sneaks past his guard and instead strikes a trophy of his. In doing so, she strikes one of the skulls near his waist, cracking it with the force of her blow. No easy task mind you, as these trophies are from Zachariel's most valued foes, those who had proven him a challenge, or been worthy in some form. During and after battle, Zachariel took skulls to add to his throne, those who were the most worthy instead joined his armor. Forever immortalized as a worthy foe in his eyes. Reinforced to endure the punishment his own armor would face, some of these skulls had been with the warlord for centuries.

And now Ingrid had cracked one, striking his most prized possessions. Her change in tactics pushed Zachariel to the back foot, unused to have to defend himself so. As such, some of her strikes struck true, sneaking past his guard to damage his trophies. More cracks appear, raising Zachariel's ire and anger, bringing it back in a way it hadn't been in many, many years. Then she spoke once more, slipping through once more, and smashing the first skull to pieces.

In that moment, for one eternal millisecond, Zachariel's mind froze. As the shattered pieces slowly clattered to the ground, the world slowed and then froze to the warlord. His thoughts traveled back one and a half centuries ago. He had been hunting a bounty hunter, the best of the time. Certainly one of the best Zachariel had ever seen. But he was used to hunting, not being hunted. And yet, he had given Zachariel a hunt to remember, to cherish. A hunt of cloaks and daggers, played across entire solar systems, and finally ending in a fight that had leveled three city blocks. The hunter had earned a place on Zachariel's armor. And now the skull was gone, shattered into pieces in a way that not even vehicle fire could have managed.

Then time continued and their blades locked, with him glancing down towards the pieces finally hitting the ground. No more than a second had passed, but as the warlord focused on Ingrid, it felt as if a century had gone by. Lenses suddenly flaring into a blinding glare, his crimson gaze locked onto Ingrid as he responded.
"You. Don't."

With a sudden roar, Zachariel struck back. Hate filled his every swing, rage made them faster, and pure, unfettered bloodlust, drove him on. In an instant, he transformed into a whirlwind of death and destruction, striking out and blocking at blinding speeds. And as he fought, the crimson glare of his lenses and the eyes beneath never left Ingrid, as he pushed, his growl echoed forth, vocalizing a fraction of the rage he felt.

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Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium
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Objective: Try to assassinate Darth Solipsis
Location: Akar Kesh, Tython
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | The Soulsabers | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Writing With: Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood
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[ Lady of the Dark ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Ingrid successfully infuriates Zach.
  • At the first time under their acquaintance, she shows her true power to him

"No Zach, I never underestimate anyone. You already know that. I’m just more familiar with shadow games and politics than you are. Anyone who is charismatic and is in the right place at the right time and is targeting the right layer. Populist politicians are always like that. I never underestimate the fanatics or the religious fanatics." she told him.

She acknowledged Solipsis' power, it would have been foolish not to do so. They had already met and she felt him several times. Last but not least, the woman did not like personal cults either. Did she have to ask herself when she lost Zach? She knew the man was a fanatic, but he had never spoken like that before. Would recent successes have caused all this? Noris, Empress Teta? She thought that was probably the case. Even the woman was surprised to feel these feelings, sorrow, and sadness for a few moments before she instinctively suppressed them. Because of that, as she saw her lover now.

ShHe had never felt such a deep chasm between the two of them, even when they were really enemies. Now she had to realise that Zachariel was not only an ally and a lover, but also a friend. No, she still didn't feel love, but losing a friend, or rather getting lost, was painful even for her. That’s why she didn’t let anyone close to her and kept her distance from everyone. Because of her position and work, she couldn’t afford to have friends. Because sooner or later they will all betray her or get lost and gone astray.

"Oh, Zach…" there was only deep sorrow in her voice.

No pity, just grief and sorrow. She didn't consider the man less because he thought so.

"I also saw and felt his power. You know exactly that few things can surprise me in the galaxy or beyond because I’ve seen a lot. I simply know my own strengths and abilities. Unlike others, I keep them secret and hide them. And maybe I'm doing this well." she told him. "I know exactly who is next to him, who his helpers are and what the Avatars are capable of."

Ingrid would have gladly shouted into the man's face what forces Zach thought she had? She had already faced the Prazutis and Carnifex duo three times and was still here. Ingrid surprised them too.

"If the Maw is really as strong and promising as you think, it shouldn’t depend on the leader, but on everyone in it. It has to remain strong even if Solipsis dies. A state, an army, a cult is only as strong as their weakest link. Tell me, Zachariel, how strong is the Maw in this regard?" she asked.

The red-haired woman studied the Maw religion, she knew it was a good thing for them to die and they were not afraid of it because the Avatars were waiting for them in the Galaxy-to-come. She knew it was a lie, the Netherworld wasn't what they were promised. It's something completely different. Ingrid was a little similar to them, she was not afraid of fighting either, and the members of her people want to die in battle because this is a worthy and glorious death. And only this.

"Isn't that everyone’s goal to get to the Galaxy-to-come? Or are they just lying to the brainwashed soldiers?" she asked coldly.

Ingrid chose a vile method that surprised the man a lot. For her, it was no joy, in fact, before she suppressed her feelings, she even hated herself for doing so. ShHe never wanted to crush Zach. If she had to kill him, she wanted to do it cleanly and quickly. Not like this. But now she needed the man's anger.

~ Please forgive me! ~ she thought to herself.

"I warned you Zach! I asked you not to force me to do so, I am not happy to do so." she said in a still sad voice. "And see why I said what I said."

Before the attack, Ingrid unleashed her necklace with telekinetics and pulled it into one of the pockets of her armour. She no longer hid her power and began to absorb the dark side forces on the planet, mostly from the ritual. As well as the energies and emotions flowing from Zach. She had done this before in front of the man, but she was much, much weaker then. Ingrid reached into the Force and accelerated on her own, the world slowing down around her. Her strength grew at every moment, she had plenty to feed on. As she moved, she picked up Zachariel's movement's speed to defend herself even more effectively against the man.

Since their last serious fight, Ingrid has accumulated more than three hundred years of combat experience, typically in the Netherworld. She didn't hold back now. Other times, she always showed the same amount of strength and talent as her opponent. Not now, she didn't care now if she was growing above Zachariel. One of the cuts hit his side, however, thanks to the continuous dark side energies, the cut disappeared as fast as Zach’s injuries from his regeneration.

Ingrid was still neutral in the Force, but her strength was still growing moment by moment. There were moments when she attacked her opponent in such a way that the attack might have caused serious injury because the man could have not defended himself but she did not finish it. She just showed that she could do it. However, her defences are nearly perfect, anyway, she used only a dagger against the huge sword and axe. They could probably only look like two blurry spots to an outside observer.

In the end, however, Ingrid tried to push Zach away from her with a strong telepathic push, and if that didn’t work out, she jumped further away and teleported away. The shadows moved around her alive, she was part of it. She glowed a silvery neutral light in the Force. Zach could never feel her as strong or determined as she is now.

"I don’t think I’m the one who is underestimating their opponent in this place. Do you really want me to teach you a lesson we'll both regret?!" she asked.

She reached out and the pieces of the broken skull / skulls rose from the ground and then agreed over Ingrid's palm. It took just four or five seconds and the skull/skulls was/were assembled, intact as before. She hovered it/them back it to the man with telekinetics.

"Tell me what they're up to, what they're planning!" it was no longer a request but an order. " The truth, not what they're lying to Maw! I accept that you believe in the Avatars, you worship them, you respect them as gods. But you also know that it is a lie when they promise a paradise. Zach, our goal is not to destroy the galaxy, not even yours. We want a different world, but not one that the Sith dominates or shapes into its own image. Please! This is exactly what you are fighting against, which you do not want either! Please tell me what they are planning! If it really is what we want, I will go and I'll try to kill him another day. You know I never break my word!"

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Objective 1/3
Tags: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim | Judah Lesan | Damsy Callat
Duel: CLOSED
Warpost: Anyone else warposting and attacking Akar Kesh, if you wish to join the fight, feel free to! Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!
Links: Weapons | Chosen | Some vehicles and other stuff​


Zachariel snorts once more at her words. There is truth there, in most situations her words would hold true. Perhaps Solipsis had simply been in the right place at the right time, and yet he had still done more with that power than any other. It was two very different things to organize something, and to follow through and succeed. And few could say the Brotherhood hadn't succeeded in their goals. The dozens of worlds and systems conquered would attest to that, the countless more burned in the name of the Avatars was ample proof.

Tython was the last world in that string of bloody assaults. It may be the last one for them, but it would be a glorious end. And should they survive, then they would continue on as they had. Any who had fought them, knew them, would understand only their utter destruction would stop the Brotherhood. Watching Ingrid, he saw that she finally understood. Perhaps it had been how he'd expressed himself, or she could finally see the truth of the Brotherhood, of Zachariel himself.

The sorrow and grief in her voice made his eyes narrow. It confused him, made him suspicious. What did she know, or suspect, that he didn't? He had never hidden his beliefs from her, that of the strong ruling the weak, of the Avatars being true powers to be respected and followed. The further the Brotherhood pushed, the more this was proven to be true. They were led by a strong ruler, Solipsis, followed strong gods, the Avatars, and proved their strength in battle after battle.

"You have seen much, learned much, yet you're still blind." Laughing, he shakes his head. She hadn't seen enough. "No matter what you know, what you've seen and done, you still won't understand. Your power is great, the foes you've faced formidable. All have been overcome, beaten or escaped. But here and now, you will see. The Brotherhood is not one simple foe, the Avatars not one mere god, one belief system. They are more, and we are legion. The galaxy will run red with the blood we spill!"

Perhaps she would understand in time. The slaves of the Brotherhood were all equally brainwashed, the marauders all trained and then specialized in their warbands. The higher up the totem pole one went, the stronger the individual became. Strength ruled over all else. Where one fell, another would rise to take their place, leaving only the strong behind.
"Strength rules all Ingrid! Where one falls, another rises, and only the worthy continue on."

No one in the Brotherhood would ever admit how tenuous the alliances truly were, nor would any showcase this to others. So long as they had a leader to follow and an enemy to conquer, the Brotherhood would thrive. No matter the losses sustained, the enemies fought, or the battles won and lost, they would thrive. For no other reason than to ensure the strong would be there in the end. Whether this was the Brotherhood themselves, or another group.

"The galaxy is changing, it already has changed much. It will continue to change as time passes, we are simply the catalyst to bring about that change even faster. Should our goals succeed, the galaxy will be as decreed!"

All Mawites believed in the Scripture of the Hidden Maw. Above all believers were the Avatars, the Dark Gods of the Maw. In their name, the strong ruled and the weak served. They adhered to the dogma of the Avatars and the Brotherhood, following the words of the Heathen Priests. Of all the political and religious systems in the galaxy, the Brotherhood was one of the few that truly followed through in every aspect of who they were. Ingrid believed what was said to be a lie, but where was the lie? The Brotherhood followed the scripture, with every battle they changed the galaxy, forced that change on the non-believers.

Laughing loudly at Ingrid, the warlord of the Bloodsworn sneered. She may not enjoy what was about to happen, but he would. The strong ruled, the weak served, and the Brotherhood held true to its beliefs. He held true to his beliefs. And as her necklace was removed and they fought, that didn't change. Blade versus blade, will versus will, and centuries of experience on both sides brought them to fight. A blur to all but the two of them. Sword and axe versus daggers, the clang of the blades echoed around them, and each strike created sparks and one could see the air displaced.

Suddenly she pushed him back with the Force. And even that barely phased him, with him merely brushing it aside and slicing once more. Only, he cut through empty air. She had teleported once more, prompting him to straighten and twirl his blades about once more. He didn't look any worse for wear, despite what she had absorbed from him. There was simply too much death and destruction happening all around, he simply reabsorbed what was lost with the souls of others.

Watching her with wary eyes, he snorted as she spoke. He had suspected she would wish to speak once more, it's what always happened between them. In all their fights, they had spoken to one another in such a manner, between boughts of clashing blades. This was simply a more serious matter than those more light hearted fights. Twirling his blades once more, he snorts again. He is still a powerful warlord, a warrior and bladesman with a millennia and a half of combat experience. On top of that, he was a gen'dai. His confidence in the face of her words could be easily sensed.

That confidence didn't waver as she rebuilt the shattered skull, though disgust joined what he was feeling. She insulted the honor of that bounty hunter with such an act. Still, as it was floated to him, he held the skull in his hand, watching her as she spoke. He easily understood her words as an order, and scowled as he saw she still didn't understand. He hadn't lied, and she didn't believe him. Looking away from her and into the eye sockets of the bounty hunters skull, Zachariel's scowl deepened. Then his head shifted back to look at her, his rage evident as his lenses flared.

"I think... you underestimate me." With a single move, Zachariel crushed the skull once more. The skull had been lost in combat, an honorable end, even if it enraged him greatly. Moreover, he had been angered by the deliberate focusing of the skulls, rather than the loss itself. Rolling his shoulders in a false look of loosening them, he chuckled unamusedly. "This. Is. Paradise."

"I haven't lied my dear, not once. Should this ritual succeed, the galaxy will be torn apart by the forces at play. From this Force nexus to so many others, reality will break and bend to our will. Everyone will see the power we wield, the might we possess. And all our losses won't matter, because we succeeded." Spreading his arms wide, he laughs darkly. "THIS IS PARADISE INGRID! What comes after may be a lie, our souls merely devoured by the Avatars, or left to wander the Nether. But this? This is paradise. A galaxy at war, endless bloodshed, with the strong ruling and the weak following." His arms lower as he focuses on Ingrid. "If I must work with Sith to accomplish this, so be it. Once our goals are achieved, I will cast them aside, or be cast aside. Regardless, we will have succeeded. I will have succeeded."

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The man did not answer her question. She didn't really expect it. If she had answered, she would have had to let the woman kill Solpisis because the Maw was strong enough without him. And if he says no; then he admits he is on the side of the weak, something Zachariel would never have done. It was actually the perfect trap, just a little annoying that her opponent ignored it, but perfectly understandable. She was already sure that this day was not when she would be able to rationally convince him. And in general, it almost always succeeded.

Today will not be like this…

Of course, she knew the words and ideals of the Mawite religion; that the strong must have ruled the weak and could have ranked further. When the man talked about the woman being blind; Ingrid felt the consequences of the ritual at that moment. The red-haired woman understood the words spoken in the distance before, as she spoke and understood in ur-Kittât perfectly. Her eyes widened, because of the energy she absorbed, her strength, her soul, wanted to connect to the ritual. The Empress groaned and fell to her knees from struggle. She never, but never felt so powerful hunger then as she did at the moment. She wanted to devour all the souls, she felt the way they connected, the way they fed Solipsis' ritual.

And that was wrong…

"I understand this, but it's not just about that for a long time!" she told him.

It’s the same hint that she knew what he was talking about. But Ingrid was unable to watch this in religious form. She wasn't blind, but she couldn't believe it. That was the difference. This was also the case for empires and states. Only the strong remained, the weak disintegrated, and collapsed. It was a cycle of life. Now the Maw is strong. The question is how long. No, that might have been the case at first, but she didn't think so anymore. She no longer looked at things small, but big. The present was fleeting, just a few seconds to her. She wasn't a human anymore, and she realised this after they defeated Omni.

And it was painful…

"No matter how much you’ve lived, you still see the galaxy so small, Zach!" she told him. "Don't look at the road that leads there. But what will happen after that? The road is irrelevant. And no, I'm not blind, Zach. I’m just no longer able to look at events and the flow of time like ordinary people. The fleeting seconds don't matter. Trivia like Maw, I, the Eternal Empire, NIO… could be listed. It no longer matters. For the past nearly three hundred years, I’ve had to figure it out. Everything is changing, yes. But what's happening here isn't what you told me long ago. No one will rule after this day." she said.

She had not yet risen from the ground, though she was already able to hold back her soul and overcome the temptations to join the ritual, to sacrifice her own life and soul at Solipsis' altar and will.

"That's not how the Force works. I can feel what they are doing. Not what you say! If they succeed in what they want… it will not bend the way you imagine. It will erase all life in the galaxy! Not only the weak, but also the strong will perish! Everyone!" she told him.

Now she got up from the ground, took off her helmet, and dropped it on the ground, stabbing the two daggers into the ground. Ingrid let her long red hair fall freely on her back and the wind played with it. The Empress stepped closer to her lover. She knew there was a chance the man would kill her. But she would have been ready for that. she would have been willing to assume it if she knew she could save him. She looked into the man's eyes as she approached. Meanwhile, Zachariel smashed the skull again. She sighed barely audibly.

"I never lied to you, never. Neither in the past nor in the future will I." she told him again. "I respect you much more than that. I don’t underestimate you, I always respected your decision, but now you’re biassed. I don’t care if you serve the Maw, I don’t care if you respect the Avatars as gods. But I do care if someone from the background wants to control you and convince you to do something like this with half-truths. I also care if it the price is your life or your soul!"

If she knew, she put her hand on the chest of the man's armour, where the heart of a normal living thing would be. She had done this before, in a similar situation. But now she wasn't trying to seduce the man. Ingrid looked up at the helmet, looked into his eyes. No, this place was not a paradise. Zach may have seen it that way. Was he able to understand the price he had to pay for it? She doubted that.

"I think from that moment, I'm trying to save your fething soul … old friend!" she said softly. "I don’t feel that you would be tied to the ritual. Tell me I'm right! Solipsis will devour everything and everyone, the full army of the Maw. Please… no, I'm beseech you, Zachariel, say you weren't so stupid! TELL IT!" she had already shouted the last words.

And she struck the armour, not to hurt or damage the man, it was rather helplessness and bitterness…

After all, she once promised that she would definitely protect the man because they wanted the same goal. And last but not least, Ingrid always did her best to protect her friends. And there were very few of them…

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Writing with: Rika Hiro Rika Hiro Don Belkora Don Belkora
Equipment in bio.

Location.
Nearby tags: Warposters and PVP'ers at the base of Akar Kesh, open.

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MASKED BALL

A zig-zagging murmuration of Tythonian butterflies drifted over the darkened peak where Darth Ptolemis stood, chaotically dancing to the static of the overhead storm; seeking their way out of harm's way, they helplessly floated in shapes of broken amplitudes, until they arrived above the mountain of shadow. In a split second, they unwittingly crossed an invisible threshold and entered a zone overcharged with hate and utter despair. The next second, they were no more. Their snap disintegration a possible future foreshadowed by the Dark Side. An omen to blot out all omens.

Standing unopposed despite the tremendous battle unfolding was more of an unforeseen boon than the Sith Lord could ever have hoped for. While the marauders of the Maw were inter arma with the war effort of an almost unified galaxy, fighting with blaster, lance and shield against overwhelming odds, the Blasphemer channeled all he had into his ethereal struggle against a plethora of unseen enemies. Sages of the Jedi projecting their own wills into the atmosphere just like him, connecting, uplifting the morale of their own respective troops. The black wizard of the Sith needed to sacrifice even more of his soul if he wanted to combat them in the Force.

So the Sith Lord kept on relentlessly chanting his profane incantations, his voice slowly beginning to quake the very land surrounding his chosen mountaintop, launching banks of snow hurtling toward unsuspecting enemies, enhancing the strength of Mawite footsoldiers while at the same time dampening the sensory organs of all who heard his sacrilegious hymn. Then, he himself heard the call he was so eagerly waiting for.

Hâsk jiaasen!

A gigantic crack of lightning highlights the terrible outline of the Blasphemer, his arms still cast wide, fingers like crooked claws, masked face crowning his grotesque silhouette.

Tearing through space and perhaps even time, Ptolemis, now a conduit of the Dark Voice above, channeled the might bestowed upon him through these dark words and unleashed his amplified voice once again, louder and farther than before. From the rain-soaked depths of Akar Kesh's jagged valleys, dozens of brainwashed Moon Children emerged, leaving behind puddles of muck and rotting flora. These remote-controlled drones of the Blasphemer screamed in bestial excitement, cutting themselves and painting their foreheads in a surreal sync. In a circle around Ptolemis' mountain they joined in his chants; together, they became a swarming organism of hate and blood.


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The Defense of the Avatar
Tags: Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen Derix Tirall Derix Tirall Romul Saxon Romul Saxon Fenn Stag Fenn Stag Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida Varik Awaud Varik Awaud Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen

Equipment & appearance in bio.

Objective: Face the Mandalorian boarding party.

Location: Aboard the Avatar
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The inner voice of the bestial self aborts the meditation.

The noise of distant section gates falling shut in sequence reverberates through the surrounding metal structure.

Kaleidoscopic visions of the Dark Side melt down into the cold dryness of reality. Legs unfold as the levitation ceases; the feet of a hidden warrior touch the floor with two heavy thuds. Within the concealing cradle of deep shadows, four orange dots flare up to shatter the darkness of a derelict room aboard the Avatar of War.

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The ominous light of the floating orbs pierces through exhaled mists as the bass of another heavy footfall is swallowed by the ambient shades. The thuds follow each other and soon coalesce into a series of steps – like tribal drums they herald the arrival of the unseen beast.

With a final step, a personified weapon of the Maw births himself from the shadows of an insignificant storage room and onto a confined corridor near the hangar bays. Beams of white neon lights above fall upon a leather-covered head, reveal broad shoulders lined with short, sharp spikes, and illuminate a muscular chest and arms coated in a mass of meaningless tattoos. The stout figure looks left, then right as the sounds of his raspy inhalation echo down both directions.

His heavily scarred torso twists, and the brute departs toward the spacious hangar. As he walks, he produces a folding datapad from inside a hidden pocket, flips it open and skims the influx of information relating to the assault at hand.
Ship under attack. Invaders: boarded. Confrontation: imminent. Direct commanders: SCAR SCAR Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr

The datapad claps shut with a plastic thump and is sheathed with haste.
A lust for blood floods his mind.

Closing in on the hangar, the newest member of the Knights of Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren opens a channel toward his direct superiors, eager to prove his dedication to the Dark Three.
This is Vorm Ren. Awaiting orders.
 
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The Defense of the Avatar

Location: Tython system, aboard the Avatar of War
Tags: Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Derix Tirall Derix Tirall | Romul Saxon Romul Saxon | Fenn Stag Fenn Stag | Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt | Vorm Vorm
Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla | Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida | Varik Awaud Varik Awaud | Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen | SCAR SCAR

  • Kralmus and his tribal marines fight toward the hangars, taking heavy losses
  • Kralmus is flung around by Romul's force gauntlet blast, and suffers injuries
  • He stalls for time and unleashes vicious mockery

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Doors and depressurization couldn't stop the Enclave, only slow them down. And not by much.

In the opening minutes of the boarding action alone, the Avatar's techno-organic corridors were bathed in blood.

That suited Kralmus Orr just fine, of course. He was a creature of carnage, a wild and callous warrior who had never in his life felt empathy for another living soul, and he couldn't care less if these elite Mandalorian commandos tore their way through the entire crew. He'd be impressed if they actually could, since that would require every last one of them to kill a hundred foes, but complete depopulation of the superweapon probably wasn't their goal. As he'd reasoned earlier, even the stubborn, hidebound warriors of the Enclave weren't stupid enough to think they could operate a craft that took up a thousand cubic kilometers. It was much larger than most planetary cities.

Assuming 400 Mandos, every one of them would have to hold down an area of 2.5 kilometers in all directions alone.

And, y'know, figure out how to actually operate the thing. Minimum crew fifty thousand, just like an SSD.

But the details of the Enclave's plan mattered even less to Kralmus than the staggering Mawite losses. A tactician might be panicking at the sight of so few killing so many, but the cannibal was no tactician. He lived to fight on the front lines, with no regard for what happened to those beside him; all that mattered to him was the thrill of combat as he personally experienced it. Victory or defeat, conquest or defense, the only thing he cared about was the opportunity to wet his axe with blood, preferably the blood of someone who could actually put up a decent fight. This strike force of highly-elite Mandos would let him do that, plus give him the chance to smite his most despised foes.

They took losses on the way to the hangars. The animalistic grunts, growls, and snarls of Crimson Hands on the hunt gave way to mewling and pained howls when plasma bolts melted through their armor, cooking the meat within. It might cost a dozen tribesmen or more to bring down a single Si'kayha boarder, rapidly winnowing the hunting party that Kalmus had brought with him... but with those who survived each clash, he fulfilled his promise. When the concentrated fire of a score of lightning guns finally finished frying a mighty commando, the Crimson Hands swarmed the falling body. They cracked open its singed armor like fancy Coruscani gourmands shelling a lobster...

... and then they fell upon the steaming, half-cooked flesh beneath in an orgy of sharp teeth and questing tongues.

"You never forget your first bite of Mando," Kralmus said, smiling down at the grim feast like a proud father.

When they had gobbled the flesh and cracked the bones and drunk down the succulent marrow, the Crimson Hands moved on. Sadly for most if not all of them, their first feast would also be their last. Kralmus had started out leading a force of fifty cannibal pirates toward the hangars. He arrived with five, the defenders paying a high price indeed to bring down just three of their enemies. At least the dead had gone to Mawite Heaven with full bellies, he supposed. He would be able to gather reinforcements in the hangar, where the Brotherhood and Final Dawn defenders were converging. A half-dozen squads of Sith Stormtoopers at his back might be able to better even the odds.

Or so he thought.

"ORR!" The bellow of challenge reached him almost the moment he stepped through the hangar doors. Apparently someone had recognized his face... or rather his distinctive horned helmet, which - as usual - hid his actual features. For his part, Kralmus saw no one that he recognized from prior battles against the Enclave. He'd fought many of their warriors in the past, but not this one. "Oh, hello," he called across the hangar, his voice singsong and his tone flippant. "I don't think we've actually met. If this is about vengeance for a loved one I murdered, you're going to have to help me out. I've killed so many people, you see. If you could just be a little more specif..."

BOOM. The explosion cut him off mid-sentence, blowing apart his reinforcements and tossing him around like a ragdoll.

For a long, long moment, Kralmus Orr was down for the count. Little trails of white vapor curled up from his armor, as if his beskar'gam was freshly-ironed laundry. Awareness returned to him slowly, but it returned. He fought through the disorientation, through the pain - he was pretty sure he'd cracked a rib or two when he'd been flung bodily across the hangar. Driving the pointed bottom of his axe haft into the hangar floor, he managed to lever himself back onto his feet. He stood unsteadily, forced to lean heavily on his long-handled weapon while he caught his breath. Yes, he was hurt, maybe badly... but he'd been one of the few lucky ones. Two score Mawites were dead.

Surrounded by such carnage, with each rattling breath paining him, Kralmus Orr laughed. It hurt, but he laughed anyway.

"If you ever end up in charge," he bit out, shouting across the hangar at Romul, "they should call you Mand'alor the Hypocrite." His voice became high and nasal, a mocking impression. "Oh, we're the Enclave, 'No Sith, No Exceptions'. Except when you decide that Sith Force techniques are too powerful to miss out on, apparently." The blast that had caught him was unmistakably based on the Dark Side power known as Force Destruction; Kralmus had been around the members of the New Sith Order long enough to know. "You honor-freaks should just accept that you're the same as the rest of us: hungry for power and carnage. We're just brave enough to admit it."

He was stalling, struggling to catch his breath... and gambling that his foe wouldn't just obliterate him with a second blast.

"This is Vorm Ren," came a buzzing over his helmet comm. "Awaiting orders."

"Oh good," Kralmus whispered in reply. "Kindly join us in the hangar for some light butchery."

It was looking like he'd need all the help he could get.
 
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Overseer of Imperial Armed Forces

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OBJECTIVE: Tython Accord Negotiation
LOCATION: Naboo
TAG: Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim | Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe | Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra | Kel Se'Taav Kel Se'Taav | Eryk Thaxton | The Quartermaster The Quartermaster

Given the timetable in which they all had to commence this meeting, Admiral Draellix’s response was understandably curt and brief. The Baron merely nodded with a faint smile as he took his place alongside his Empress. Then, the meeting commenced - beginning with The Quartermaster The Quartermaster who proceeded to address the assembly with information regarding the Maw superweapon. Such intelligence was highly valuable, with Ström slightly puzzled as to how a band of miscreants and barbarians possessed the guile needed to procure it. With minimal thought, he surmised they likely intercepted a more capable intelligence organization and stole the intelligence from them by force - it was more in line with their modus operandi after all.

His expression turned all the more pensive as he listened to the briefing by the Alliance Officer, who shared his professional assessment over the likelihood that they must look upon this intelligence with a proverbial ‘grain of salt’. The Overseer internally agreed with the agent, for he had seen himself what the Maw was capable of. They may well have established a reputation for brutality and sheer barbarism, but they were not without their own unique brand of profane trickery. Overall, despite the few moments in which the Baron had made this agent’s acquaintance, he already appreciated his clear professionalism and capability in his trade.

Then, the Chancellor opted to speak. Ström only knew Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe by reputation, and even then - the Baron held a particular disdain for him and his ilk. From the overly flamboyant and quirky demeanor he possessed, to the ‘polish’ of his appearance which verged upon a false veneer that hid his true motives; Ström did not trust the man any more than he could throw him. Although, the Baron did consider precisely how far he could throw the man if he set his mind to it...

His attention was soon yanked back to the meeting at the Chancellor’s words.

“Firstly, all forces must yield full command to the Alliance military, that seems only fair. And secondary - and I don’t think I can be clearer about this - none of your forces may step foot on Tython. It’s an Alliance world, a sacred world - to some - and it will be protected as such.”

Ström’s expression grew even more dour and stone-like, but to his credit - he minded his tongue. His first thought was to tell the Chancellor precisely where he personally would put his foot if another imbecilic suggestion was proffered. But thankfully, Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana spoke first, and expressed her ‘disagreement’ to the demands in a very diplomatic yet firm manner. After taking a moment to collect his thoughts and focus them on the directive he had previously received by his Empress, Ström finally spoke: ”I must agree with Grand Admiral Draellix on this issue, Chancellor.” Weathered, hard eyes gazed upon the head of state as the Baron spoke.

”After all, there won’t be any sovereignty to protect if we cannot mount a proper defense of the planet. The Maw won’t be constrained by any rules of engagement or decorum, so why should we?” He glanced around the room, meeting the gaze of each person until they rested upon The Quartermaster as he concluded: ”The Empire will do what is necessary for the greater good.”

He paused, his words clearly laced with double meaning as his stare lingered upon the helmed figure before him, until he directed his gaze again at the Chancellor: "The Eternal Armed Forces are comprised of professionals; you won’t need to worry about our capabilities or discipline.”


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Enemies: Iris Arani Iris Arani
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A gust of wind blew over the mountain path, the cool air chilling the bare skin of her scalp where the Sith had shaved her hair to make room for the ritual tattoos prepared for this day. Tempest shifted her stance in an effort to move from the direct path of the wind. It didn't work. The chill ran from her scalp down through her spine. All she had done, all she had learned was for this day. Today the Light would fall and a new era of Freedom would take the Galaxy by storm.

Tempest closed her eyes and breathed in the mountain air. She could feel the power gathering here. The other Jedi and Force users had long since past the pair on their way to stop Solipsis from completing this ritual. For a while, they had just stared at one another. Tempest didn't even remember what the older girl had said. Something about stopping her. Even if Tempest fell today though she would have served her purpose. She took a tentative step forward, her eyes opening, a flash of power behind her yellow isrises.

"No," she said with a smile. "I don't think you will."

Suddenly her body went rigid. It was coming.

"Châchwayat hadzuska kûsk sutta chwituskak! Châchwayat hadzuska kûsk sutta chwituskak!! Hâsk jiaasen! Hâsk jiaasen!!"

Tempest screamed, her hands grasping her face. The tattoos across her body began to glow like white-hot fire, steam rising from them.


The ancient tongue could be heard from atop the mountain as the vergence of Tython crackled and sparked with power. The Black Drake called to her now. The time was almost upon them. She didn't remember when but she had fallen to her knees, balling herself up as the pain wracked her body, the tattoos no longer glowing but steam still rising from her body. The burns traced where the tattoos had been. The steam seemed to be traveling up towards the peak of the mountain, up to her master. Blood for blood. The pact was made. Her pact had been sealed all those years ago above the ruins of a Jedi temple on the cold sands of Jakku.

"You see Iris," Tempest wobbled to her feet, a madness in her voice. "You've already lost." With shaky hands, she gripped the hilt of Doxmite and the lightsaber from her old life and pulled them from their chest holsters. The flat, unorthodox blade of Doxmite screeched from its housing, the red blad crackling in a distorted snapp-hiss. The emerald blade of her old saber erupted with a stable blade.

"Unfortunately you won't be able to see our new world. Our new Galaxy."
 

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Rot bloomed around her. A desperate fight for survival. That'd been her life since she was infected. A fight to survive the Rot. Then to survive the fighting ring she'd been thrown into. Surea had always hated having to fight for the right to live. But her master had shown her the freedom it brought. To survive the trials Darth Ptolemis Darth Ptolemis had given her she needed to get stronger in the moment. To tap farther into the Dark. To make the Force bend to her will.

A haze of red grew around her. Rot was the only term she knew for it all. Spores, hallucinogenic to inhale, bloomed. Danger. She moved on instinct, her ruined body forced to accommodate as she leapt from the swinging blades. Her own reignited as she let her grin return. This was how she'd get stronger. Face down death, defy it time and time again. The Miraluka let her pain drive her.

And screamed.

The Force shook with her voice, ripping the very ground with it. The red blades of grass faded into dust, carried through the violent burst of air. Her grip tightened on her already fractured lightsaber. She'll show them all the power of her Rot.

Amani Serys Amani Serys | Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 

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The world around him was gone.

Kahlil stood in the center of a void. Water, clear and black, spread out as far as the eye could see. A void of nothingness. Then, light. Sparks of yellow and white in the distance. Like the night sky after the final rays of the sun set, the world bloomed with lights. Dancing amongst themselves, unknowing or uncaring of the endless void they were trapped in. The Jedi found himself smiling.

The Force connects all.

He blinked, turning his gaze. A voice? Where..? He was alone, still. The lights flashed, but none seemed to be able to speak. Then..? His gaze shifted down. In the water, his reflection. But not his. Golden eyes stared back, full of hate. The dark mirror? His lips thinned as he crouched down. The mirror did the same, much to his surprise. A hand settled down on the water. It rippled, but felt more like glass than liquid.

Light and Dark. All.

The ripples grew, distorting the reflection. His eyes narrowed as he tried to keep an eye on him. But instead of Kaahlil, a white mask stared.

"Love!"

"I'm moving in!"

He blinked. Kahlil was far from the hallway now. Bodies laid sprawled out behind him. A vision? No time to think on it. He knew what Valery was going to do before she did it. Without hesitation he shut down off his saber, raised his hands. Another of the Crimson Hand charged forth, bringing down an axe for the seemingly defenseless Jedi. Then froze, mid swing. His body refused to move.

All of their bodies refused to move. The Jedi lifted his hands further, eyes closed, brow knitted together in concertation. The unmoving bodies began to lift, slowly from the ground. Helplessly frozen in the air. Helpless to Valery's blade. Kahlil's hands turned, spreading wider. All at once the cannibalistic troopers were thrown. Like dolls, crashing through the walls around them, thrown to their fates below the Master's Rise.

He let out a breath, letting his arms drop by his sides as he opened his eyes. Then ran to catch up. Together was the promise. And together they'd stop anyone trying to destroy Tython.
 

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Thalia Senn Thalia Senn dropped.

And Iris moved. No hesitation, no over thinking it. She was beside Thalia, brow knitted together in concentration. She reached through the Force, trying to pull at the pain ripping through the Fallen Padawan. Lessen it, share the burden. The colors that twisted and brought it, they weren't hers. The Sith, what they were doing, Iris couldn't stop it. She knew that much. The fate of Tython wouldn't be swayed by her in any way.

Her Master, the other Masters. The others that arrived to help. She trusted them to protect this world. In turn, she would do everything she could. She watched Tempest rise. Pull out Domxite. Her heart ached as the red blade was ignited and once more she felt the pain of her friend. But she didn't let it affect her. Not this time. The Padawan stood, reigniting her own blade.

"So long as we're alive we've never lost. It's never to late to stop." The later wasn't even about herself. "You're not lost yet, Thalia."
 

The Hound

Guest
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Enemies: Anyone and Everyone
Tracyn Ordo Tracyn Ordo

Nothing. It wasn't a terrible price to pay for the sins he committed. Somewhere in the depth of his awareness, he knew the Hound was reveling in the Field of Blades, enjoying its time in the plane of Chaos where it could continue its killing unabated. He'd been in the dark for so long. He wondered absently if Sophia was even still alive. His thoughts occasionally drifted towards her. This had happened to him, in a way, because of his devotion to her. But much time had passed. So much time.

"Ahh." Turin thought to himself, "If only I could stay like this forever. No more killing. No more death. No more Vahl calling to me."

Something shifted. A flutter of color in his eternal darkness. That wasn't right. This was supposed to be the end, the end of Turin and the end of Vahl's Hound. Had they found him? He expanded his awareness. No, he was still on Tython, in the temple. But something was wrong. The Vergence on Tython was...Unstable. A powerful force was trying to corrupt it, to control it, bend it to their will.

"So the war between Light and Dark continues," Turin said to the darkness. It flashed again, a pinprick of light in the distance. Dread swallowed him. Was he waking up? No. He couldn't wake up. Not again. The familiar sensation of the Hound tickled his brain. It saw the light too. It was rushing towards it from somewhere else in the darkness.

"No! We are finished!" Turin said. He strained against the Hound, trying to pull it back into the Darkness. But the light kept growing, expanding, and as it did so the Hound grew stronger. The collar he tried to keep on the Hound only ripped him from the bliss of eternal darkness. Turin surrendered and only hoped that this time someone would kill him.


-----

Within the ruined temple, behind the Bogan Gates a statue's plaster chipped revealing bone-white carapace beneath. Cracks ran across its surface. The Hound of Vahl, a servant of the Priestess and the evil entity worshiped by the Vahl was free. The plaster fell in a dust cloud around him. For the first time in nearly thirty years, he was free.

-----
He had been tricked. There was no Vahl here. None of the sacred blood to anchor him. Vahl had abandoned him and he had been tricked by the dark ritual from atop the mountain. The Hound dragged his heavy black sword through the temple. Sounds of fighting could be heard from the outside. Kill. He had to kill.

A storm of lightning cracked from within the Temple blasting its defenders with rubble and stones the size of speeders. From the gaping hole, The Hound emerged, his eyes falling on one of the Jedi still to remain. A low rumble emanated from the creature's throat. He raised his heavy black sword in challenge. There was no waiting. The stone beneath his feet cracked as he prepared his leap.


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Dimitri Voltura

Guest
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ALLIES: Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis | Darth Ptolemis Darth Ptolemis | @whoever else - there's too many of you | BOTM | NSO
ENEMIES:
Everybody else (I'll tag if you're important)
ENGAGING: Siv Dragr Siv Dragr
GEAR: In bio.

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RETURN DRAGON FIRE

"Sorry to disappoint,"

The shaft of the spear snaked out, but hit only air as the Dragon already stood beyond the initial reach. Not that Dimitri expected any relenting from a child of Mandalore.

When the pivot and low swipe with the vibro-tip came, the crimson blade bent down to meet it effortlessly in a clash of sparks. In the close proximity, another presence hammered at the Sith's senses. Despite the void in the bulk of the body in front of him, the Force still spoke to the Lord of the Sith from the Mando'ade.

Crimson eyes burnt bright when they fell on the bounty hunter's hands where the whispers were strongest.
"You fool, Mandalorian." he snarled before breaking off from the block of the spear and jumping back. The man that had dared to face him may have been brave, but his chances had dropped significantly by combining something with the Living Force with the advantage he had of the void-imbued armour.

Dimitri wasn't a mere acolyte, after all.

But he knew full well by breaking proximity, he opened himself up to ranged attacks that a saber could not always protect against. He would have to be wary and ready to move in an instant. His opponent may be young in comparison, but the Dragon was not fool enough to underestimate him. With younger age came innovative ideas, after all.

The Sith Lord had his work cut out for him.


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Objective: Expand. Reinforce. Delay. DIG
Status: Battlefield Neutral Net Activation Stable
Enemies (NIO/Enclave/GA/Jedi/Other): Rurik Fel Rurik Fel Annor E-059 Rose Dorce Hall Mannarra Hall Mannarra Julian Qar Julian Qar Bex Tarring Bex Tarring Aerys Myrrine Jas Katis Jas Katis Asanté Tsilor Asanté Tsilor Ollis Barran Ollis Barran Saul Vandron Saul Vandron Asmus Omaand Asmus Omaand Alessandra Io Alessandra Io Kal Kal Madison Starr Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Rex Valhoun Rex Valhoun Don Belkora Don Belkora Rika Hiro Rika Hiro
Allies (BOTM/NSO/Independent): Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis The Mongrel The Mongrel Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr Shai Maji Shai Maji Erion Justeene Erion Justeene Darth Saevius Darth Saevius Ronar Ronar
Directly Engaging: (OPEN)
Tag me if a relay tower is destroyed, assume hits on cultists and towers as you like. Except for the main Omega site.

ATTENTION: All force users may sense a disturbance in the force from this location. Warnings from below!

War Posting Update

1) Scylla AI begins to reinforce its location and DIG into Tython. Firewalls are being erected to hinder slicers as they get a fix on increasing power signatures. Operations are being streamlined and data is being collected on all faction's capabilities, strengths weaknesses, and operational capacities.
2) One more relay goes dead, with a few more sithwatch casualties, their locations are slowly being compromised.
3) Ongoing Delay Operations: Makeshift sensor net operating across the combat zone. reports fed to Maw/Sith of enemy movements and locations for artillery strikes or ambushes. Falsified reports of betrayal are sent to differing defending factions where possible. Faction leaders and local commanders' images/voices are used to better mimic communications. To cause diplomatic incidents and fallout.

Ever Directive Deployment Status:
Directive 18 Moving to Stage Three
Mainframe Construction. Learning Algorithms functioning. Streamlining of operations is ongoing.


Ongoing Scylla Operations:
Faction Communications Interference Stable. Feeding false reports, betrayals, and lies to defending factions.
Sensor Net Established and Stable. Feeding enemy movements and compositions to Maw and Sith Operatives.

Main Scylla Location: North of Akar Kesh
Varian Cavern.


While a few Jedi such as Tracyn Ordo Tracyn Ordo and Madison Starr had begun to see the appearance of robots. Few yet had grasped the potential danger of a rogue AI this close to all this force energy discharge, these force nexuses, and with free reign. Potential warnings echoed to force sensitives.

Between Scylla and the three tactical droids, these two ongoing operations were taking up a significant amount of their processing power. The power signature in the cavern flared up briefly to compensate, offering a further sensor spike to anyone paying attention, along with all the Sithwatch relays discharging the energy briefly. An unnamed slicer spotted this and was trying to trace it, but so far was having no luck without coordinated support.

Further operations might tax the capabilities of its assets, it calculated it would need to adapt itself, and streamline its efforts. There was no better time to learn about every single faction on this planet than right now. It had a vast array of raw data coming in to store and upgrade its intelligence matrices. The more it learned, the more it could adapt to the changing battlefield conditions.

Largely unhindered. It was learning how the enemy countered false reports and communications. Where they were vulnerable. How they fought, how they deployed, and what kind of troops they used. What proved most effective when conducting cyber warfare and what didn't work. It learned what Sith commanders were able to make use of its data, and when to offer it. Weak spots in the chain of everything here, allowed it to dedicate less time to maintaining these activities as time progressed. Especially focusing on any Galactic alliance forces.

Organic Sithwatch cultists were dying, their positions slowly being located, and soon another relay went offline but these were anticipated scratches, it was already assembling what was needed for its next phases and what this might mean for Tython's future. #One SIth Directives.

Stage Three Initializing Confirmed

At the center of the cavern, constructions were beginning in perfect coordinated time. The nearly two hundred droids worked in a mechanical unison that only an AI could accomplish. Droids building droids or something similar? Large pipes seemed to be extending under the ground little by little, the beginnings of what might follow. The Hub's location being still unhindered allowed for easier supply than an engaged position might, with plentiful resources arriving for use. Power generators were erected and metal fortifications were established. The cavern's floor and walls were beginning to be built outward into a series of metal shells, reinforcing what was already there further. A slowly developing cybernetic mesh of wires, durasteel, and energy supplies from the center of the AI outward in a protective shell, including now the first of its cyberspace firewalls to better defend from slicing attacks.

Scylla AI 3.0 Upgrade in Progress….

Standby.

Operational Relay Status:
x3 Relay Towers Alpha, Seeing Stone, Status: Online
x3 Relay Towers Beta, Masters Rest, Status: Online
x2/3 Relay Towers Gamma, Journeys End, Status: Online
x2/3 Relay Towers Delta, Flooded Plains, Status: Online
x3 Relay Towers Epsilon, Flesh Raider Grounds, Status: Online

Main Site of the Scylla AI: x3 Relay Towers Omega, Akar Kesh, Status: Online

NPCs and Equipment:
Relay Defenders. 10 with each relay, 30 at each site.
155/180 x One Sith Sithwatch Cultists
16/18 x Relay Towers
16/18 x Master Relay Terminals
16/18 x Directional Transceivers
16/18 x OS Fixed Position Shields

Assume hits on the towers and cultists as you like, they are there for your RP.

Main Scylla Omega Hub Additional Defenders
Metal Fortifications and power sources are now in Cavern. | More Resources for Building in the Cavern.
3x T-Series Tactical Droid
100 x B1 Series Battle Droids
50 x B2 Super Battle Droids
10 x Scorpenek Droid
5 x Droideka Sharpshooter
5 x Drodieka Oppressors

Scylla AI Firewalls

Firewall One Online
Firewall Two Preparing
 
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Tags: Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe | Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra | Eryk Thaxton | Ingrid L'lerim Ingrid L'lerim | Baron Reinhardt Ström Baron Reinhardt Ström | Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana | The Quartermaster The Quartermaster

Location: Alliance High Command, Naboo
Timeline: One week prior to the Battle of Tython

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The conference hall was awkwardly still as Eryk Thaxton's retort hung in the air. Senator Kel remained fixated on him, hoping the agent could provide more insight into the structural weaknesses of the 'Avatar of War.' At the very least, he'd settle for additional information from the The Quartermaster The Quartermaster herself; Bad blood or not, the Mandalorian Enclave put their people on the line to wrest the schematics from the hands of the Maw, and that deserved the Alliance's respect.

Kel parted his lips to further inquire the Mandalorian representative, but Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe addressed her first:

“Firstly, all forces must yield full command to the Alliance military, that seems only fair. And secondary - and I don’t think I can be clearer about this - none of your forces may step foot on Tython. It’s an Alliance world, a sacred world - to some - and it will be protected as such.”

The Bothan couldn't help but shake his head disapprovingly, an act he was certain had been noted by the other delegates. Luckily, he wasn't the only emissary to find Tithe's terms - or, rather, demands - bordering on the absurd. Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana was the first to voice her disapproval, followed by Baron Reinhardt Ström Baron Reinhardt Ström of the Eternal Empire. They both stood on firm ground; Why squabble over who can and cannot defend Tython while the Maw's fleet - and the Avatar - converged on the ancient Jedi world at this very moment.

The Senator steeled himself before addressing Tithe.

"I must agree with the Grand Admiral and the Baron, Chancellor,” Kel said to Tithe, a tone of urgency in his voice.

"The Alliance has made the mistake of keeping our allies at arms length in the past, a strategy that will only hinder us in achieving our ultimate goal: Defeating the Brotherhood and protecting Tython from destruction.”

The Senator held his gaze on the Chancellor, hoping reason would triumph over paranoia and mistrust. There would be plenty of time to bicker over borders and territories after the Mawites were driven back to the pit they crawled from. And who's to say that things have to return to the way they were now? Perhaps the Alliance could make fast allies out of the factions represented, if for no other reason than keeping the Maw at bay in the future.

"Perhaps,” Kel continued, "we can divide our forces into strike teams with designated objectives and sectors throughout the battlefield? Strategically placing our combined forces where they're strongest can ensure we're making the most of our armies, and can eliminate any mistrust between the lot of us - We'll all be in position for the battle, as opposed to scrambling about Tython like ants with more than one queen.”

 


Blue clashed against red.

Good against evil.

Light against darkness.

The fury of the Dark Lord was something frightening to behold, His weapon snapping back and forth like the fangs of a viper. Equally, inspiring was the Jedi Master's determination in the face of such aggression. He did not falter, did not wilt, against the tide of darkness that surged forth from the deepest abyss. He stood his ground and allowed the Force to speak through him, the Light Side of the Force his ally against the Dark. But so too did the Dark Side speak through the Dark Lord, buoying its champion with the intoxicating rush of adrenaline, the taste of copper overpowering on His tongue, and the beat of His heart a thunderclap in His ears.

Their blades clashed with a roar of crackling energy, the point of contention angrily spitting violet sparks as the two opposing forces struggled. It was during this moment, when both adversaries were close enough to reach out and touch one another, that the Dark Lord retorted to Master Korr's accusation. "So long as darkness lurks within the heart of men, I will never die." The Jedi's answer was to bury his shoto into the crux of the Dark Lord's arm where the bicep met the torso. The blade skipped off a piece of lightsaber-resistant metal as it entered, catching against the inside of the Dark Lord's backplate. The odious stench of burning flesh was carried on the wind.

Koda Fett opened fire, the red blaster bolts harmlessly skipping off of the Dark Lord's armor, while the blue bolts connected with a much greater impact. Each impact pushed the Dark Lord forward incrementally, the kinetic impact too great to simply shrug off as He otherwise would. Narrowing His eyes behind His visor, the Dark Lord reached out with His left hand to snatch whatever hold He could have on the arm holding the Jedi's shoto. Then, with tremendous force, the Dark Lord attempted to haul the Jedi Master around to His side and throw him directly at Koda Fett as he approached. Several more bolts would strike Him during this action, the charric blasts sending Him staggering each time.

It was only when the Dark Lord managed to remove Master Korr from His vicinity, either through a successful throw or merely forcing him to disengage lest he be thrown, that He raised His lightsaber to defend Himself. The red ones were easy to deflect, they were nothing special. It was the blue charric bolts that threatened to send His lightsaber flying from His grip with every blow. So He resolved to dodge them when He could, a more difficult task considering their proximity to one another and the Dark Lord's large frame. When that was no longer viable, the Dark Lord gripped the hem of His beskar-woven cloak and flung it over His left side like a shield.

He only held this position for a few moments, and as He swept aside the cloak, He revealed a massive runeblade gripped in His left hand. The blade quickly left the Dark Lord's hand, flying through the air towards the Mandalorian. Undoubtedly, thanks to the quick thinking and quick reflexes of the Mandalorian warrior, the blade would have missed and continued sailing on. Only then did the blade start to veer back around, taking a wide arc as it came back again for another pass at the Mandalorian; spurred on by the insidious will of the Dark Lord.



 
Faith is the heroism of the intellect.
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“Never throw the first punch. If you have to throw the second, try to make sure they don't get up for a third.”- Brandon Sanderson


Tython was a graveyard. Where thousands of souls were lost in a flash in battle. It wasn't that the planet was void of life that was a miracle in itself, it was because Jedi Master Caltin Vanagor had a vision that was leading brought him here ahead of the long thought invasion of Tython was said to happen. He couldn't pinpoint the exact point or the reason for the vision, but there was something about it, and he recognized the location from the history vids that he had followed. The planet was layered in the Force, proposed light and darkness and that was a concern, but there was something else, he knew he had to be there on his own. He could handle the stress on his own, but if someone else was there it would be problematic.

Coming to a stop over the largest landmass he waited a few moments until R2-T3 rolled into the cockpit. R2, take the controls. Hover over the Trayus Academy ruins and then get to a safe distance. I'm jumping out. Grabbing his gear and taking a leap out of the loading ramp, Caltin felt the wind screaming through and by his ears as he fell to the ground. Alright, this is it. He wasn't sure what he was looking for but he was certain he would start somewhere.

If there was one truth that the galaxy could depend on, it was that once Caltin Vanagor had something in his mind, nothing could deter him from accomplishing whatever it was his brain sought out. Call it determination, call it bullheadedness, call it whatever. The massive Jedi Master boiled it down to one thing and one thing alone: that path implanted in his head that always ended with the teary-eyed boy promising his father to “always do the right thing”. Not necessarily the golden path you might say, but rather everything else that has happened and had been a part of his exceedingly long life that had been a part of it. Funny really, he had heard a couple of Padawans the day calling him “Ancient” (of course afterward he scared them so badly that they needed to change their pants but that is not important right now), he really was.

Truth be known, that path he was on did not shine brightly anymore. Circumstances had caused a derailment, and now multiple paths stretched forth. That path was supposed to end over eight hundred years ago on the ice of Rhen Var, but we all know what happened with that. He could not control when premonitions through the Force came to his mind anymore. The gift of farseeing was no longer gifted to him, at least not in the way it is to other Jedi. The body now acts and reacts to what the mind would have shown him. The big man still has the ability, but the body is the conduit, no longer just the eyes. So held no real control over the ability anymore, not without more experience in this new connection to the Force that he has(it’s a long story for those who have not been keeping up). A thousand paths were in his head at any given time; it was a miracle of its own right that his head did not explode with everything he could have known. Some may say that this was “Farseeing” in a manner of speaking, Caltin just laughed it off to “Force Anxiety”.

His time for crazy had passed long ago, however, and now he mostly ignored what the Force had to offer in terms of future paths. He learned to quiet its excessive chattering and only allowed the really important things to draw any kind of attention. Of course, he still had no control over when that happened. Now, all he could do was the act and that meant entering the most important place on the planet right now.

The Jedi Temple ruins.

Like moths to the bright sun, more and more were joining this. The Force was mysterious, to say the least. Vanagor followed a dream given to him by the Force, and it lead him to this what he could only describe as a wasteland. The datapad’s sensors picked up some readings, more than likely from others in the area, but potentially something more. Other sensations through the Force caused a tingle on the back of his neck. This would be a fun endeavor.

Yeah, right.

He felt the gravity becoming more and more unstable as he got closer to orbit and he did not want his ship to get torn asunder leaving him without a means of escape. Nathan wrapped his black cloak and robe around his body, pulling the hood over his head. The mask of Pyrrhus was next, fixed over his face to conceal his true features. The final device he grabbed before heading to the ramp was his lightsaber hilt. He knew not if he would need it, but it paid to be safe. And the feeling on the back of his neck told him he might just need it.

Just as he was about to leap through the storms of electrical energy, a huge gust of wind, of energy, something, pushed Vanagor well away from his intended landing spot. He landed safely enough, backrolling on the ground several times before coming to a stop. The look on his face was priceless, one that spoke of self-loathing like he was mentally calling himself names until he got to his feet. That's when he heard it, the voice in his head like a scream on the wind. "Vaaaaaaaanagoooooor." It gave him serious pause for a moment but only a moment. Shaking it off he reminded himself that this planet, this section of the galaxy was a blight on the Force, a black hole really and it was something horrible to feel. The dark side of the Force was permeating this pla... a collection of rocks before this all happened.

The stink of death ruled the terrain, heh, terrain paths really, the loss of life through the Force, the loss of life here. There was something recent about it as he made his way closer, something powerful, violent, was this what brought him here? To find out who was here and why? Was he brought here to stop something, or want about it? There was going to be something, he just had to get to the Academy and find out what it was... not to mention find out why others were here.

The entrance to the Academy was as dank and destroyed as one would expect, more than one would expect even. This didn't bother him, what did was how horribly the beasts that survived were deformed, deranged. Somehow those that lived were transformed into something worse, almost if their lives were destroyed and this is what was left, almost abominations. The structural integrity was as degraded as the "planet" itself; every step he took felt like he would fall through into a pit.

The smell of death was thick and filling in the vicinity as he walked through the entrance, slowly looking around. He could sense others in the area, they weren't far but they were numerous. How they were alive after so long was incredible, but it was also concerning. Then he saw one, it was a humanoid, but it "wasn't" at the same time. There was a sense of little mental capacity that he could feel, only blind rage. It was lucid, with no sense of focus or direction, it was just angry. He didn't want to draw attention, but he had to keep going, and walking around the long way was not something that was feasible.

His senses were going to be relied on more than ever on this one, not by choice though as he was going to find out what was wrong with the place. There was something that kept calling his name, something evil, he had to find it. If only the humanoid didn't have friends who just showed up and noticed that he was there. The massive Jedi Master was a fighter, plain and simple, most thought that he should just give in to the Dark Side or at least leave the Jedi behind as they thought he did not represent them well. He was tired of arguing that point so he didn't anymore, people were entitled to their opinion. What he did do was follow the Force to locations like this, this desolate place that was so full of death that it was reshaping life itself. He wasn't one to kill or fight needlessly, even if he was about to be attacked, like by the beasts who he was leaving behind. It took a move of the Force, a simple one, a mind trick and he was beyond them as they were believing that they were seeing nothing at all.

Of course that left the rest of the time ravaged facilities, the long empty halls centuries past being even close to “structurally sound”, the darkness, everything. It was like something out of a horror-holovid, then his senses picked up on someone familiar, it was Garyn, many students. If he was here, he could be spoken to. However, the Jedi Knight was not there, was he? Caltin watched the felinoid Jedi fall long ago. How could he be there now? Simple, it was a result of the Dark Side trying to play with his mind, much like the infamous “Dagobah Cave”.

The central atrium, what has left of it anyway, looked to be expansive but also looked to be something of a failed ritual in the past. . Of course, that was over two millennia in the past. There should be no one in the atrium, even with the incredible crater which ripped through to the other side of what was left of the planet. Yet there was, and the... thing... was staring right at him.

"Vaaaaaaanagor." It cackled.

There was a familiarity to it, he had seen this sentient before, or species at least. You know my name, what is yours may I ask?

Another cackle went by before the beast threw two bolts of heat-generating lightning at him through the Force. It was only at the last moment that Caltin pulled out Vanguard and blocked the Force Based attack. He was ready to fight now, but it was clear that the beast was playing him, and ran deeper into the dormant facility. On the other side of the atrium, Caltin, against his better judgment followed weapon in hand at first.

It was at that moment that he realized that this might be wanted by the beast. There was a shred of intelligence there, but if he could draw him, he could play him. Caltin was no one's plaything, especially when he saw the beast waiting for him at a stairwell and then running down it.

This is how it's going to play out, huh?

I have a bad feeling about this. Then there was that cackle.

The "beast", for lack of a better term was in the middle of what looked to be some kind of old laboratory cackling at the massive Jedi Master. There were what looked to be long dead bacta tanks all around him, but these were not. They all looked to be housing what were once similar life forms, almost like they were being cultivated. This was some kind of project like sentient weapons being created. Before Caltin could dwell on this further he could hear a crashing in the distance, this seemed to be the opening the beast needed to release the others.

As the blue liquid suspending them in their tanks receded and rolled to the floors, each beast slowly stepped out, all cracking their necks. They didn't bother waiting, each reached for a weapon on the wall, a vibro-weapon. They all looked to be smiling angrily at him as they walked around. Caltin had a chance to attack, but he chose to wait and let this play out, learn their similarities.

Soon he was surrounded.

The Dark Side itself was strong with the planet, given its history littered with Sith and Dark Jedi of yore alike let alone the Light Side with the beliefs of the Jedi and the Jedai more historically speaking. The abominations created, the knowledge stored, and the teachings passed down all seemed to permeate its broken shell. Perhaps not everything was destroyed when it was. And perhaps what the massive Jedi sought would be there, perhaps somewhere around this pile of rubble could be something that could help counter what the Brotherhood was trying to do here. Caltin was a natural fighter, but even he could only last so long.

Of course, he would have to deal with these beasts.

They encircled him and all walked counter-clockwise on a long perimeter until finally leaping toward their prize only to disappear?

What?

The answer was as void as the darkness before him.

Whatever path Vanagor chose, he was sure no one else picked up before him. The air smelled stale and tasted bitter. His eyesight did nothing to help ease his feelings either as he could see absolutely nothing except vague edges. The Force guided his footsteps and even though he took care in being as light as possible, they still echoed through the narrow and winding corridor he found himself tiptoeing through.

At this point, he did little to mask his presence in the Force. It was openly called upon to help guide him and to keep his senses on high alert. He felt he wasn't alone, but the feeling of dread kept growing and itching at the back of his neck. Sounds echoed behind him: a footstep here or a falling stone there. Each time the massive Jedi Master froze, chancing a glance into the darkness behind him. As he did, he felt the stale airbrush past his back but when he turned to investigate that, nothing greeted him.

"The hell am I doing here?" Slowly, he felt his way forward some more, turning left when he felt like he came to an intersection of narrow, dark hallways.

VAAAAAANAGOR… The whisper tickled his ears and caused him to once again freeze.

That better had been a voice in his head.

Turn around...

Screw this.

SNAP-HIISSSS

The usually subdued ignition of his lightsaber somehow echoed horrendously loud in what would be small hallways, but the sound seemed to carry forever. He held the multi-color-hued blade out in front of him, illuminating the immediate vicinity of its White/Blue/Purple glow. Nothing, if only he added to the ambiance of where he was.

Unfortunately, whatever creatures called this place their home did not like this new light source. Scratchings on the wall and footfalls reverberating through the corridor grew louder and faster, coming in his direction. He began to back step, turning to full and quickening his pace down the hallway using his weapon as a makeshift torch. He found a small outlet a few paces further, at least giving him an option to lunge a covered surprise attack as whatever was following him stalked on by.

Yet again, fortune was not on the Archon's side. As he took that corner and leaned against the wall, he felt the ground shift under his sure footing. Stones began to fall from the wall onto the ground, which began breaking up even more under the added weight forced by the falling debris.

Something gave and the place began to crumble around him.

The Dark Side, without the attempts at reality-bending, without the attempts to destroy the planet, or the Sith landing en masse, made it difficult to sense things at a distance. He wasn't going in totally blind though, he watched and listened. Despite the wide variety in the chemical makeup of beings throughout the galaxy, the scent of death couldn't be mistaken for anything else. What is it with that stench? There has to be something of a reason for it. This was “old”, yet “current” at the same time. It was pervasive here, though he could detect nobodies in the low light. Additionally, there was a slight bit of air flowing out. It wasn’t stale either, as one might expect.

Whatever it was, it had to get to it soon. He had the fight to get back to.

There were already Sith down in the lower parts of the Temple and that just served to fuel his mood. Thoughts of his infamous battle with the undead Enforce of Ren himself Kyrel Ren flooded his mind as the big man ignited the other end of his lightsaber, bringing out the Permafrost blade so fluently. Why two different crystals? They held to very significant meanings to the big man, but also would serve two very distinct purposes over time. Right now? They were just a matter of which blade would bifurcate which grave robber. He didn't like the idea of looting, but finding a dapatad on one of the Sith he fell, there was something horrific that the big man found. It had to do with the Kesh Mountains.

TAG Allies:
Cotan Sar'andor Zark San Tekka Celeste Rigel Romi Jade Romi Jade Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser @Asmunder Varobalder Justice Lesan Justice Lesan Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield Tracyn Ordo Tracyn Ordo Asha Vynea





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"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)
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"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
HK-88 Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, (Jedi Interceptor in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)
 

Madison Starr

Guest
M
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Cliffs Just North of the Jedi Temple Ruins
Obj 1 - p4 - (p3 #279) - Silver Jedi Defender​
ATTN: The Mongrel The Mongrel
tldr - Mucknose's skiffs and technical vehicles return fire upon the Pact Heavy Teams in the cliffs. The Pact Heavy Teams pull back south to the Ruins as The Mongrels army advances. Madison steals a Maw technical and pursues the Maw Artillery. And Mucknose.​
The tall cliffs to the north of the Temple Ruins burned. Scorched by an inferno of return fire from the Maw's Artillery skiffs and accompanying technical vehicles.​
The remaining Pact Heavy Teams disregarded the smoke and emptied the last of their man-portable missile tubes. Harassing the Maw skiffs as they finally pulled out of range. Alas. The rest of their army had arrived in force. So even a burning mountain would be of little cover against such a force. And besides. The Pact Teams were all out of missiles anyway.​
The allied forces discarded their empty launch tubes and mortars, and grabbed their wounded instead. Pulling back into the mountain trails by foot. Slowly returning to the temple ruins to rearm and reassess the advancing enemy forces. With plenty of grit and raw hatred yet to give.​
The shields of the Temple Ruins still remained intact thanks to their harassment of the Maw Artillery. But for how long? Well. They couldn't really say.​
And what happened to that allied sniper too?​
. . .​
Two thunder javelins hung in the air. Frozen. As if by a spell.​
"Ack..."
Madison Starr drew a deep breath as she held up her hands in the air. Concentrating. Using the Force to hold the javelins aloft and keep herself from being bombarded back into oblivion.​
"Ack! Damn." She finally tired and let her hands fall. The smoking javelins fell likewise. Harmless, against the cold mountain remains. Tumbling down the side. "Damn. One second sooner and I'd be mince meat. Ugh. Frak."
She'd dodged a death by fire once again.​
Smoke wafting. The cliffs around her still burned. Smoke and molten debris lingered. Even the lush trees and dark green grass seemed charred back into black soot and fine ash. A crumbling black dust you breathed in with every breath. Walked through, as you climbed. Tasted. Like iron in the very air itself.​
Ugh. It smelled like war up here. Mmn. Felt like it too.​
Madison Starr rose up from her stony perch in those tall burning cliffs. Disguised in dirt, soot, blood, and dense smoke that lingering in the air. She stood like a silent gargoyle overlooking the Maw's advancing forces. Listening to the wind. To the Force. Holding an empty sniper rifle in her hands that had claimed five shining lives.​
The smoke billowed on the wind as she watched what remained of the Maw Artillery skiffs relocate themselves.​
She wasn't quite done with them yet.​
Covered in dry dirt, she discarded her empty rifle, and withdrew her heavy blaster pistol. Then she jumped down the mountain.​
. . .​
There were three Aspirants inside the LuchsHai technical as it passed by the belly of the cliffs. The car drew past a squad of Aspirants and a single Scav King in his ruinous frame. Moving up through the underbrush to finally approach the shield wall. At the western most flank of the advancing horde.​
They past underneath a particularly dense tree canopy just as a sudden THUD resounded in the back seat.​
The driver and passenger seat turned around to witness a very dirty armored woman sitting where their buddy had been perched in the back seat. Only a quick moment before.​
"Hi boys." She smiled.​
Then the hum of twin plasma knives cut through their remaining curiosity. Ending them.​
Behind them. The Scav King continued his lumbering advance in the middle of the Aspirant squad. But he did hesitate for a moment when the Maw vehicle in front of him veered off west and dropped a headless body out off the driver's side.​
He let the troops move on by as he stopped to investigate the tattooed form.​
"Hmph?.."
His jagged helm turned to watch the LuchsHai pull away into the trees ahead of the advancing horde. Not south. But west. Until he could see it no more among the fog of war.​
But? Where was it going? He shrugged. Then kicked the body aside.​
. . .​
Madison Starr had commandeered a Maw vehicle. Now she punched the accelerator and moved ahead of the northern horde. Drifting west across it's head and juggling between the rocks and low-hanging trees. Aiming for something far more familiar than Aspirants and warframe jug heads.​
She cut back through the horde at a terrible pace. Just before they reached the shield line.​
Her vehicle tore through an Aspirant squad and sent them diving for cover. She blew right past them. Then another and another. Then the first javelin landed beside the car and blew a hole in the rocks behind her. Ha!​
Guess they finally noticed.​
Up ahead she could see the Maw Artillery skiffs. Still enjoying a comfortable distance between themselves and the shield wall. Probably reloading for another charric bombardment too.​
She'd just have to fix that and keep those shields alive.​
She raced right at them.​
Knock knock. Hear that? Oh my! That's destiny calling, baby. Heh. I guess somebody still had a date with Mucknose.​
 



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D A R A S U U M
K O T E
T H E M E

OBJECTIVE: Destruction of the Sith | Board the Avatar of War
ALLIES
ENEMIES
Romul was satisfied to watch the forty or so Mawite raiders vaporized in the blow. He detested the cults of the Force -- the Jedi, the Sith -- but he could not deny its usefulness as a tool. Runi Kuriyda had proved that before when she'd saved his Mandalorian's lives, and its devastating power once more had turned the tide. Beyond eliminating a large number of Maw, it was an effective shock and awe tactic, distracting the warbands as Mandalorians continued to push into the hangar.

"Gallius, give the fleet my signal," Romul barked to his lieutenant, who nodded and withdrew from the front of the line to quickly make the comm to the Mandalorian fleet that was waiting in orbit of Tython's moon. His focus was still on the Death's Hand heretic that dared accuse him of Sith practice. The Force was a tool. It was the mongrel followers of cultists, the blood traitors who found joy in the slaying of their own kin, the Death's Hand, that were to be culled.

"You do not know me?" The question was a taunt, a growl as Romul neared the fallen Mandalorian -- no, to call him Mandalorian was too generous -- slowly, each step ringing loud as his power armor trudged through the torn hangar space. Mawite warriors flung themself at him, but he swept them aside with powerful blows from his war axe. He was a behemoth, an unstoppable iron force of nature. It would take more than weakly thrown taunts to break Romul Saxon.

Reaching Kralmus, he grabbed him by the throat and raised him until the two stared helmet-to-helmet. He could see his own reflection in the black of Orr's vizor: tall, domineering, crimson on gold plating. "Allow me to acquaint you." He flung Kralmus backward, before handling his war axe with two hands and charging his foe, raising the weapon in an upward swing before bringing it down with terrible force, intent on cleaving the Dar'manda in two.

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WARFLEET CANDEROUS
POV: Ikaan Ordo, Tyatr'alor

As the naval battle unfolded between the Maw and the coalition of defenders, Ikaan Ordo and his mixed Mandalorian and Droid crew watched from the relative safety of the Kyr'am Gaan as it sat in Ashla's shadow. Tython's moon had concealed them from detection so they could catch the Avatar of War superweapon off guard with Romul Saxon's boarding attempt, and even now though their position was revealed, the much larger naval forces of the coalition drew the Maws firepower away from their position. They were at too far of a range to engage conventionally anyways, but even if they were able to, that was not their orders. They were to await the signal before proceeding, and Ikaan followed his Akaan'alor's orders.

"The Akaan'alor's signal has been received. We have been ordered to move into secondary position," a Cernr droid reported, and Ikaan swallowed. The next phase of the plan required moving the fleet from the safety of Tython's moon into broadside range of the Avatar of War and the rest of the Maw fleet, in order to ferry the thousands of droids aboard the Strike Frigates onto the supweapon. Besides them were actual Mandalorian reinforcements, some crew who wished to fight, some warriors who had not been able to partake in the boarding pod assault.

This was suicide for the fleet. But it was necessary. "Prepare to make the jump to hyperspace," he ordered to the helm before moving to the comm station. "Transmit orders to Minister Oldo and Governor Keldra, in the Akaan'alor's name. They are to draw as much fire away from our ships so that we can offload our troop complement into the Avatar of War." The orders transmitted, Ikaan steeled himself for what would come next as helm indicated that they were prepared to make the jump. Then, with a signal of his hand, the Kyr'am Gaan began to rapidly accelerate until the black starfield was replaced with swirls of blue and white.

As soon as they had entered hyperspace, they were reverting back into realspace; the microjump had been performed. But one strike frigate had made an error in its calculations and had reverted too close to the superweapon, momentum propelling it to dash against the side of the Avatar of War before breaking into numerous pieces, a fireball erupting as the warship ruptured. "Shields!" Ikaan ordered immediately as heavy fire began to rain down on them. "Get those shuttles off now!" Rapidly, shuttles began to launch from the bays of the frigates and cruisers as the warships worked their best to cover the assault dropship.

They had precious little time, but it had to be done, or else the entire Mandalorian effort would fail.

Romul Saxon’s Warband
  • Aboard Boarding Pods
    • Clan Saxon Warriors [Several Hundred]
    • Si’kayha Commandos [Several Hundred]
  • Aboard Strike Frigates
Warfleet Canderous
LOSSES
Ships
  • x3 Ra'gr Assault Boarding Pods
  • x1 Kyr'am Strike Frigate
Soldiers
  • x48 Warriors, Mixed Si'kayha/Clan Saxon [Aboard Boarding Pods]
  • Various Mandalorian Casualties

 


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Location: Tython
Objective: Fight the Sith and do whatever possible to help disrupt their dark ritual
Gear: Armor | Lightsaber
Enemies: Nienna Vess Nienna Vess


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More than any time he could recall in his life, Jeren felt like he might be overwhelmed by the gift of Force sight. As a Miraluka, it came naturally to him; as a trained Luka Sene, knight, and Juror who had specialized in expanding the abilities of this gift, to see the state of Tython was to threaten to lose yourself in darkness. The planet seemed to him to be screaming in agony; the air filled not just with the sights and sounds of two sides colliding in an apocalyptic struggle for the fate of the galaxy, but with ripples and turbulence in the Force itself. Whatever ritual was being performed at Akar Kesh, all everyone on the planet could tell just how powerful it truly was.

The Juror did his best to ignore it as his speeder zoomed over the landscape. He maneuvered it between and through Mawite lines, taking advantage of its great speed and agility to avoid being shot down or otherwise impeded on his journey. The Maw for their part did not seem to put in a great deal of effort in chasing after him as they passed; one man on a speeder, Jeren figured, probably did not seem to pose as big a threat as the encroaching armies of their enemies.

Near the base of the high mountain Jeren approached a gathered band of Maw cultists. He pulled back on the throttle of the speeder, ensuring it would come to a full stop shortly. Before it did so, however, the Miraluka Juror leapt from the speeder, using the Force to propel himself high in the air. As he flipped, the lightsaber at his side flew from the clip that held it in place into his waiting hand. Its yellow blade ignited, humming with energy. He landed in the midst of the Mawite marauders and struck immediately, swift swings of his blade cutting down two of them almost immediately. He could sense others nearby raising their blasters, and where those bolts would go. Using the techniques of Soresu, he adopted a defensive stance. Yellow plasma hummed as he maneuvered his lightsaber about, deflecting a flurry of blaster fire away from him. A handful more Mawites dropped when their own shots were reflected back at them.

Jeren continued moving, striking down Mawites as he moved; staying in one spot was a great way to get surrounded and annihilated. One screaming marauder charged him, vibroblade raised high. The Juror raised one hand, clenching his fist, and swung his arm up. Drawing upon the power of Ashla, Jeren lifted his enemy from the ground and sent him careening a few dozen feet into the air. Forward momentum carried the blade-wielding cultist up and over Jeren's head. The Miraluka swung his lightsaber around again, reflecting another blaster bolt into the chest of the man who had fired it, putting him down for good.

At last there was one only one enemy left here: the man currently flailing as he fell to the earth. Jeren held out his hand again, "catching" the man as he fell. The marauder's descent was interrupted suddenly; Jeren held him in place, hovering upside-down about six feet off the ground. The Juror stepped forward and swung his blade dispassionately, severing the man's head from his body. He released his hold, and gravity brought the now-headless corpse crumpling to the ground.

A fall from that height wouldn't have been an instant kill, and indeed might not have even incapacitated him. Servant of the Bogan though he was, there was no sense in prolonging his death. Best to put him out of his misery quickly and efficiently and move on with his mission.

Jeren turned his head in the direction of Akar Kesh. He could feel the roiling currents of the Force all over Tython, but especially there, high on the mountain. The Bogan seemed to rule there now, threatening to blot out the Light. He did not know what he could do to interrupt that ritual, but he knew he could do something, even if it was just removing Sith from the path of those who could.

His lightsaber's blade hissed as it slid back into its hilt. It was time to go, to face the servants of the Bogan.

For Ashla.


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ALLIES: Romul Saxon Romul Saxon | Vemric Keldra | Isla Draellix-Kobitana Isla Draellix-Kobitana | Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber | Juno - 11/0571 Juno - 11/0571 | Mylo Thorne | Tren Chaar Tren Chaar | Liram Angellus | Albrecht F. Herlock | VADM Tarsa Doon | Caoimhe Crannach

ENEMIES: Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha | Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Derix Tirall Derix Tirall | Khione Khione | Aldo Garrick | Akûz the Ravager |

This is the Way.

The phrase he heard countless times a day. Even within the sphere of work he found himself living in, the linguistic peculiarities of the Mandalorians within the Enclave permeated everything. Every nuance, every idiom, every colloquialism. It was smothered in hubris and history and tribal energy that he just didn't understand. It didn't matter anymore.

Upon the bridge of the Samrata, he stood in a stoic repose, hand resting on the back of his command chair. He was surveying the growing disorder and carnage that was the battlefield ahead of him, the stars themselves blocked out by the titanic exchange of ordnance that filled the main display of the bridge.

The orders flew in from Vemric Keldra. Lay down additional fire on the assembled Maw forces. That he could do.

The orders from Romul Saxon Romul Saxon were somewhat more pressing in nature. Distract the enemy. Take their hits.

He sniffed, taking in the cool artificial air that sat, lingering about the bridge of the great battlecruiser Samrata.
He had no option. His orders were incredibly plain. They so often were.

The Avatar of War. The vast Maw fleet. The Caragol.


At the very moment it mattered, the order of battle often came down to the simplest of terms:

Attack. Defend. Advance. Retreat.

The reckless heroism, bravery or stupidity required to undertake them seemed to fill in the gaps. This was that moment. He had faced countless enemies. He had even faced down near-suicide missions. But it had never felt quite so…final.

He had to engage the Avatar as well as the assembled Maw to prove a more enticing target than the boarding Mandalorian forces.

"Send out the orders. Have the task force move towards the enemy ships. Try to take as much of their fire as we can, and draw their attention. We must buy them as much time as possible."

He changed the channel, pinging Saxon. He gave an affirmation of the orders he had received.
He changed again, catching Keldra.


"Sir, we're engaging the enemy fleet. Moving into position now. It'll be hot for us in there. Good luck."

The officer of the watch nodded, a slight swallow desperately trying to stifle the growing panic, fingers darting about the graphic display of comms console.

The slow but gradual shift of the task force was minuscule, at first, hard to discern amongst the chaos of the battle. But the assembled task force did begin to lurch forward, the larger vessels of the Line beginning to make headway towards the disgrace that was the enemy position.

The Bulwark and the Sentinel seared forward, beginning their own vast display of ordnance towards the insanity that lay before them. The Siren and the Avento too began to race, catching up and overtaking somewhat as they themselves unleashed a torrent of firepower akin to something that might level a planet, sending it back into some nuclear winter. The Cruiser and Frigates held back at first, knowing all too well that they would be the first ships to sustain immense casualties under this audacious and reckless plan.

It had to work.

A stream of comms began to flood in. Not direct dissent, exactly, but cautious calls for a reconsidering on Oldo's part. He reassured them that their duty was clear and that the necessary nature of what was being asked of them was inevitable; distract the enemy.

Draw their fire. Sustain the damage so that others didn't.


It was like jumping on a live grenade.

Catastrophic.

^^^^^

As the Maw fired indiscriminately at any ship in their vicinity, the first of the Escort frigates reached the tip of the formation. They took the brunt of the damage from the Maw Destroyers and Star Destroyers, impact after impact upon their shields. They held for as long as they might but as soon as one cracked, the others would surely fall.

The UES Pathfinder had become a decorated and near venerated figure within the Enclave's fleeting community. It had sustained damage at Panatha and survived to tell the tale, outwitting and outmanoeuvring the enemies assembled on that day, bringing fame, fortune and renown to its crew and the High Command itself.

As it detonated, the concussion wave burst the vessel apart from the inside as if it were a watermelon dropped from a large height. In a perfect moment of physics-defying terror, the ship's hull held its form for the briefest of seconds before catapulting its constituent parts as far as the detonation of a reactor would allow. The crew would have been killed instantly; it was some consolation.

The Glory to the immediate right of the Pathfinder sustained the combined blow of the detritus from the named ship and the wall of energy that had been unleashed by the Maw. She suffered an almost replicant fate as its sister ship, the front of the Frigate sheering off and breaking the back of the ship, a dirty wound open along the belly of the long ship. As its contents burst forward, flames and electrical surges charged through the ship, leaving all organic life inside the hull to be desiccated and shrivelled before unleased upon the cold vacuum of space.

A trio of Fast Attack Corvettes began a sweeping motion towards the port flank of the behemoth, trying to catch the eye of the enemy's tactical array. They fired their own charged ordnance, trying to annoy and pucker the forward part of the monster ship. The Warlord made good its attack, managing to turn hard and evade much of the volatile response, condemning with regret the other two ships who sat behind. The Locket and Defiance were caught, catapulted towards one another as the engines of the Defiance ripped asunder, the superstructure rent apart. Like a husk, it veered sideways into the starboard side of the Locket, catching it off guard and leaving too little time to evade the unintentional assault.

^^^^^

In seeming response to the port flank, the starboard flank gave its own bombastic display. The Bulwark, part of the 'indestructible arm of might' featured in the task force, began to lose height, dropping from the plane of fire as its internal controls gave way under the brilliance of the firepower unleashed onto it. It capitulated, sending sparks from the aft section of the giant cruiser. It was out of action and the death count on board would be unknown as yet; it was likely to be extremely high.

Oldo watched in horror as the demolition and ruin he had experienced above Dantooine played out in front of him again.

This was no accident, however.

This was intentional.

This was meant to distract the enemy enough.

This was the Way?

In his mind, he called out.

He wanted to fire the solar ion cannons. The dual blast of ionic energy would have surged forward, headed straight for the central portion of the monster ship. The Victator-class cruiser would have opened fire, an untold array of hundreds of ordnances flinging, energy busting cannons and turrets doing their level best to stop the Maw in their tracks.

They could blow it up. He knew he could.


He didn't.

He waited.


He gave the Mandalorians the chance they needed. The chance they deserved.

Oldo prayed for the first time in a while, his fingers white as he clasped the chair as tightly as possible.

This is the Way.

This is the Way.

This is the Way.

Deployed fleet to tackle Avatar of War, The Caragol and assembled Maw Fleet who has engaged Enclave forces indiscriminately, with the plan of drawing fire away from other elements.
Sustained heavy damage to UES Bulwark.

Lost in Action-UES Defiance, UES Locket, UES Glory and UES Pathfinder.

Reserve Heavy Attack Line:

Flagship: UES Samrata - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%) - Heavy Assault - 3.52K


2x Thoros II-class Battlecruiser - Heavy Assault - 4.2K

= UES Bulwark - (Shields 18%/Hull 12%

= UES Sentinel - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)


2x Grievous-class Star Destroyer - - Heavy Assault - 1.89K

= UES Siren - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Flying Avento - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)


3x Argente-class Assault Cruiser - Assault - 0.96K

= UES Invader - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Avalanche - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Basilisk - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)


5x Murkhana-class Escort Frigate - Balanced - 0.43K

= UES Pathfinder -

= UES Glory -

= UES Promise - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Diplomat - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Harrier - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)



6x Terrus-class Flak Corvette - Defensive - 0.16K

= UES Bastion - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Trinity - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Signature - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Chimaera - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Vincent - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Mandalore - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)



6x Trench-class Fast Attack Corvette - Offensive - 0.11K

= UES Warlord - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Defiance -

= UES Locket -

= UES Inferno - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Hummingbird - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)

= UES Invicta - (Shields 100%/Hull 100%)
 

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Heinrich Faust: Grand Marshal of the Ashlan Crusade

Engaging: Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis

Allies: Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze , Rurik Fel Rurik Fel , Ryv Ryv , Corin Trenor Corin Trenor

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Army of the Night

The skies above Tython screamed with the sounds of the dreaded storm that raged therein. Planning the defense of the planet had been rough, as the united forces of the Light had little time to prepare. Yet, they did what they could in the time they had, having dug in at least somewhat before the inevitable onslaught of the Maw. The Grand Marshal had called the Knightly Orders together in the planet's defense, mustering the largest force of Ashlan Jedi seen since the battle for Korriban. They had taken up positions in several keep places on the battlefield, ready to fight, and if necessary, to die in defense of the planet. The Grand Marshal intended to lead them himself... until he felt his presence.

The dark entity once known to Heinrich as a friend had arrived, and with him came a torrent of pure evil unlike anything the Grand Marshal had experienced before. Though Heinrich knew that others would inevitably be facing the Dark Voice, he couldn't allow them to do it alone. His last duel against Solipsis had hung in the back of his mind constantly, his failures plaguing his every waking moment. The revelation of his dark past to Cedric threw their rhythm off, and in a misguided stroke of frustration, Heinrich had lost his hand to the Dark Voice. That moment of weakness was something he felt he needed atone for, and it appeared that he would get that chance today.

The transport shot toward the top of Akar Kesh with a great speed, dodging lightning as the very storm itself sought to protect its master. Heinrich leaned out of the side of the transport, overlooking their target as they darted toward the mountaintop, steeling his mind in preparation for his fight with Solipsis.

"Once I'm free, break away and get back to the FOB."

"Yes sir! And sir... may Ashla be with you."

As the ship neared the top of the mountain, Heinrich pulled the token given to him by Oraada Laabre Oraada Laabre before he left, the montral ornament she often wore. He said a quiet prayer to himself, holding the ornament close to his chest as they drew ever-closer to their objective. Slowly tucking the ornament in his pocket, Heinrich let out a deep breath...

"I'll see you again, Oraada..."

With those words, he leapt from the dropship, allowing his body to fall through the air before catching himself at the last minute with the Force, landing several feet away from Solipsis. Standing to his feet, Heinrich reached for his blade, igniting it's golden blade in a brilliant display of holy light. As he approached his former master, Heinrich noticed that he was indeed not alone.

"Dagon, I'm glad you're here."

A quick glance back to Solipsis followed.

"We'll take him together."

Others had arrived as well, each wishing to put an end to the tyranny of the dark lord once and for all. Heinrich stood next to his companions, holding his blade forward in a traditional Makashi-style guard. His voice called out to Solipsis as he slowly closed the gap.

"The Light has suffered your evil long enough! No longer."

Another deep breath...

"ASHLA WILLS IT!"

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