Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Annihilation Shatterpoint | BotM Annihilation of GA Held Tython


Kahlil_Div2.png

The world was ending. Whether it was something it could eventually heal from or not was what this battle was going to decide today. Kahlil kept his focus. Even as the smaller rocks he couldn't deflect ripped past him to burn his flesh, he kept them at bay. Kept the building together. I am one with the Force. The Force is with me. The mantra of the Jedi, the flow of the Force around him, it was everything that mattered until everyone below could escape.

Final word came through the com on his wrist. Everyone out, save for Valery. At that he let himself relax. The building below once again continued it's fall to the ground, crumbling under the recent assault of the moon. His gaze turned upwards, towards the incoming volley of molten rock. He was no longer holding it at bay. The building wasn't going to last, even if it survived it's fall.

That was fine. So long as Tython survived, they could rebuild. So long as they survived.

His gaze turned down, to where he could see Valery fighting. The Jedi smiled as he reached out. Throughout all of this they'd been connected. Supporting one another through their bond. Kahlil reached upwards one last time towards the sky. Gripping the invisible cables all over again. As Valery neared the edge, he pulled. Every ounce of their strength, combined, ripped at the weight he'd taken hold of.

He was never able to hold back the meteors by himself. He could deflect them from the building before, but that was haphazard and unguided. Kahlil dropped from the roof, landing beside Valery as he turned his gaze up. He couldn't guide multiple. But he could guide one. The largest he could manage, ripped down from it's path now impacted the building. Arching right for the Master of Ren.

"I don't think that will kill him." He turned his gaze to his wife, smiling faintly.

"Ready?"

Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren | Valery Noble Valery Noble
 
Faith is the heroism of the intellect.
obj1tython.png
vAfVZbd.jpeg


“Hope is like the sun. If you only believe in it when you can see it then you will never make it through the night. .”- Princess/General Leia Organa


The funny thing about a battlefield is the magnitude of an entire planet sector, you have so much to concern yourself all at the same time. The constant fighting on the ground, the allies around you, the comrades in arms. The endless numbers of foes whose sole purpose is clearly more and more to hold you to the planet, to drive you to a specific area. The chaos in epic numbers and proportions, the brutality on a planetary scale, the destruction of unimaginable levels, it was enough to make even the most battle-hardened warrior shudder, if only for a moment.

They were holding their own, if only now, but there were just so many of them. It was a tactic of flooding the “theater” with overwhelming numbers to take the focus off of what they wanted to do. The Rangers, the Marines, the planetary soldiers, the Jedi, all of them were stepping up and fighting with purpose, a purpose that none of them, could or should have ever thought that they would need to take hold of. That was the rub though when faced with the impossible thought of fighting beyond everything you know of, beyond everything you had ever thought that you were possibly capable of. The notion that one Ranger, one soldier, one Jedi, fighting beyond everything that has made them who they are. All fighting not to protect themselves, but to protect an idea. To protect a thought. All of them fighting more intensely than one could shudder to quantify, all to protect an idea and its manifestation of it. That is the problem with ideas, with history, it is all stuck in the past.

Sounds like that belongs on some kind of sci-fi program… but think about it.

Tython is a planet and two moons. Impressive in the more primitive cultures that launch rockets into sub-orbital routines and dock them with chunks of metal that they think is a “space station”, but it is a planet and two moons. Just like the house, you grew up in is just a pile of lumber, plaster, and concrete. It does not stop there, that car that you built in your garage is just a pile of metal, wires, and rubber. A hundred+-year-old baseball stadium that means so much to a city, to a game is just a pile of steel. Your favorite meal, that family pet you grew up with, all of them are in the past. They should stay there.

That is the rub though…

These things, that are a part of your past will remain there if you fight for them. If you forget the cues in your life that shape you, that mold you, that make you who you are today, then what have you become? What are you going to be? There is something to be said for “a fresh start”, but from what? You can not forget who you are, only ignore it. However, without holding to your past, but remembering what made it so important to you, what made you fight for it, to feel the pain in the loss, the joy in the victorious, it shapes you. It changes you and allows you the choice, the chance, the opportunity to take that next step, the next one, and so on.

That is what is going on here.

Yes, Tython is indeed just a planet and two moons, it has been around for thousands of years, but, this is where the Jedi Order was born. This is where the Jedai walked. This Nexus is vital to the survival of the Force itself and thus the galaxy. It is not merely the home of a collection of amazing stories, it is the home of a collection of stories that brought Jedi here for reasons of their own. It is the home of a collection of stories, of legends that brought together orders, that molded younglings who dream that one day they too would be counted among those Jedi that are in those stories. That is what sentiment is, it is memories, it is collections, it is a range of things that come together and give meaning to what you may do and who you might be.

Would you let someone tear apart your favorite shirt?

Would you let someone spit on your favorite meal?

Kick your childhood best friend(pet)?

Do not be confused in believing that the Jedi are the only ones to hold these truths. Would you try the same with Korriban? The Sith of Pureblood was once experiments of the Rakata, created, mutated, and morphed into beings attune to the Force in the most violent way possible. These sentients were often so powerful that they would seduce Jedi into obtaining such power. Before long the name “Sith” was merely a title, little more in some circles than the name “Jedi”. Yet the planet Korriban holds secrets that have yet to be revealed even today. Like it or not, the planet means something to them, or the Ashla Crusade would have destroyed it. The planet, with all of its history , means something to them. This is not mere sentimentality anymore, not nostalgia. Sith knows what this is like, to potentially lose something so important to them. That is why they are fighting as hard as they can to achieve their goal, they believe that the Jedi do not truly understand the importance that Tython holds for them. This however is folly. Tython is not merely “The Birthplace of the Jedi Order”.

Tython is the foundation.

Jedis who aren't here to fight are lying to themselves. There is no other way to put it. It is not just a fight, it is the fight for many if not all, emotions play a big role in everything, especially here. There are no tricks to be played, or silly or foolish mind games to be played. Jedi (and those who would stand with them) against Sith (and those who would follow them), fighting until either the planet is destroyed or the attaching force is repulsed with their tails between their legs. This was simply a matter of killing or being destroyed, no euphemisms or hyperboles were involved.

That is why the Jedi were here.

That is why the Jedi would not be stopped.

That is why the coalition will stand strong.

THAT.IS.WHY.TYTHON.WILL.NOT.FALL!

Master San Tekka had his war call, Master Heavenshield had his own call, Masters Rigel and Starchaser had theirs, and Master Vanagor had his. Extending “Vanguard” in the air, the massive Jedi Master yelled out those words to anyone in earshot. Sure, many might have rolled their eyes, he did not care. He was looking at those who ended it. The big man disengaged his weapon and kept his arms to the sky. Putting the other hand up as well, the massive Jedi Master put the power to his arms and sent it upward and outward. The Jedi with him, those not fighting off attackers, the Knights, they did the same. All holding true to what he was doing for this was not a battle of wills or ideas, it was a battle of survival now, and Jedi were survivors. As the others looked to shield the skies from the falling moon… how did they destroy the moon? Caltin and his team would do the same…

Long since, in sore distress, I heard one pray,
"Force, who prevailest with resistless might,
Ever from war and strife keep me away,
My battles fight!"
I know not if I play the Pharisee,
And if my brother, after all, be right;
But mine shall be the warrior's plea to thee--
Strength for the fight.
I do not ask that thou shalt front the fray,
And drive the warring foeman from my sight;
I only ask, O Force, by night, by day,
Strength for the fight!
When foes upon me press, let me not quail
Nor think to turn me into coward flight.
I only ask, to make my arms prevail,
Strength for the fight!
Still let my eyes look ever on the foe,
Still let mine armor case me strong and bright;
And grant me, as I deal each righteous blow,
Strength for the fight!
And when, at eventide, the fray is done,
My soul to Death's bed-chamber do thou light,
And give me, be the field or lost or won,
Rest from the fight!

Rest from the fight…

… rest from the fight…

SCREW THAT!

He had an idea, it was stupid, it was insane. It had so little chance of working that the chance was not worth recognizing. However, there was a chance, a chance that it would work, that he could do what he needed to do in order to pull this off. It would work. It had to. The lives of too many were depending on it. It was almost like this was where he was meant to be. This is where they all were meant to be, here, at this second great hyperspace war, this latest battle of Tython.

Those who were shielding the ground. They were doing the work that he could not. This was not to say that Vanagor could not do this as well, but he needed to follow this lead. This was going to require some level of luck, even though there is no such thing. It was going to require some level of focus, and it was going to require someone who is too blasted stubborn to do otherwise.

I need three of you with me. He yelled out to those around him. Some battling Sith, some fighting off troops, the others, they were helping reinforce the shield that was being formed. Puling his comm-link to his lips, the big man pressed a button and called out. [Dark Blue]” Music”, fly low and bring the ship to me!

Letting two Knights take his place in the forming of the shield, he just nodded to the others. Two Knights, Archon, and Veyron, twins ironically, and Twi-Quo a Rodian Padawan who was in the middle of his trials, were following intent on helping the Jedi who helped them so many times. Onto a landing shuttle they leaped, Veyron ripping open a control panel between the wings and reaching in, grabbing the wires and closing his eyes ala’ Mace Windu he took control of the shuttle through the Force. Up they went, blocking blaster fire with their lightsabers and damaging fighters with their skills, The moon of Ashla was not simply fracturing, but splintering, bifurcating. Veyron was doing great causing aerial chaos as Archon and Twi-quo took to his(Vanagor’s) training and were throwing Maw fighters into each other.

Caltin was redirecting weapons fire with his lightsaber, but slowly the big man let the energy inside of him build up further and further. The largest pieces of the moon were still on their slow descent down through the ionosphere. If they were to crash into the ground. The losses would be catastrophic, not just to the beings on Tython, but to the galaxy itself. They had to stop it and he had a plan. Once they were at height, he knew exactly

Bring us up as far and as steep as this heap will take us until it dips into a stall and then jump off. “The Spectre” will catch you.

“I’d rather stay,” Veyron said respectively.

Archon agreed “Not leaving you behind, Master.”

Twi-Quo even agreed “Respectfully, Master Vanagor, we are with you.”

Each one of you has a path to take that does not end here. Trust me when I tell you that each of you has an incredible life to look forward to, as Jedi. I will find my own way down.

They knew not to argue and to just trust him, so slowly the big man dropped to a knee as Veyon was doing his best to create room and Veyron fought off the Maw pilots to control the shuttle and pull it high pitched further into the air and pushed off as hard as he could Each of them leaped off as well, as they were eventually picked up one by one in the air by his pilot droid “Music” and ship “The Spectre.” The Maw dropship pilots never did regain control of their craft, it eventually crashed into the side of the Kesh Mountains. They all bailed long ago anyway.

No, the massive Jedi Master could not fly, but the leap was not the point. Slowly more and more energy built up inside of him, electrical energy billowing all over and out of his body when the launch reached its peak and he began to fall, Vanagor pulled his arms together and then swung them out inf a mighty roar. One might think that he was about to eat a meteor, or maybe use his muscles and punch it to pieces, as tempting as an idea, they would be wrong in this, no, he did something else…

The explosion of Force energy in its most raw form burst outward and forward, angrily shooting out in wave after wave reaching any object it could. Coalition forces were hit and damaged, but those effects were minimal. The most overall destruction he could bring went to the falling moon segments. The brilliant show of light could be seen for miles.

black-adam-the-rock.gif

The big man didn’t stop, he kept expending and expending energy as he fell. Tendrils of energy reach and cut into the falling debris, disintegrating some, exploding others, but overall doing what he wanted to do, making it easier for his friends on the ground to shield their brethren. It was draining, terribly exhausting to the point that he was losing consciousness as well as the strength to even keep his eyes open. It looked like this might be it. He might be dying here… then he had heard something in the distance…

The volcano… it had to be the volcano…

There was a level of debris still falling and he had nothing left he was done. Then he thought about his wife, he thought about his Padawans, current and old, he thought about the friends he made… Caltin thought about the people he knew and what they all meant to him. The big guy must have been seeing things, hallucinating because Vanagor could have sworn he could see his daughter in front of him. The woman she would become anyway, smiling(the smile she reserved for him and him only), and reaching out, putting a hand to his face. Was she a Force Ghost? Was she capable? His niece and nephew, were there too, smiling and each giving him a nod. They all looked the part in a blue and silver shimmer. Were they there to help usher him into becoming one with the Force?

It didn’t matter.

He thought about their fire, and their spirit and took energy from that. The big man fed off of that energy and pushed it through his body to where he needed it to be right now more than anything and with that the massive Jedi Master… in what might just be his last notable action… reached out with all of the electrical Force energy in his hands and brought a broadside wave at the direction of all of that debris he was not certain to reach. If it was destroyed and of the falling debris, great, if it did not then hopefully it would push them into the volcano and help stop any lava runoff.

He didn’t know… his lights were turning out… he was going dark.

It was worth it… if only he could say “goodbye” to Chrysa…

He didn’t even feel “The Spectre” as he landed on it flying by. The lights were out, and the only sensation he could feel were the words… “Show them what it means to be you.” His daughter. She always had a way to inspire.

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
 
Last edited:

obj1tython.png

The Temple Ruins
Location: Tython, Jedi Temple Ruins
Tags: Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka | Maple Harte Maple Harte

  • TEMPLE RUINS
    • The Moon Children go down to repeater fire
    • Marauder Aspirants lead the charge into the ruins, taking heavy casualties
    • Tarar Warbands identify and fire on defensive emplacements
    • Raider Walkers supplement the advance
  • FLOODED PLAINS
    • All hell breaks loose on the flooded plains, with fire and lava and steam and smoke and earthquakes
    • A shadowy wall of souls arises from the dying Scar Hounds to intercept fire coming toward Thor Yo
    • Onas calls down fighter reinforcements to hold back the other attackers

There could be no retreat. House Io was at their backs, and Alliance forces were slipping around them as well, moving to strike at the grounded Star Destroyer that had brought them here. The enemy had already reached their deployment zone, but Kaleth was still far away, and unless the temple ruins fell they would never be able to reach that ancient city where the first Force Wars had been waged. Surrounded, outnumbered, and outgunned, all the Brotherhood forces could do was take the strongest forces they had left and charge.

Fortunately, that was what Scar Hounds did best.

The Moon Children accomplished their purpose, and then they died. They soaked up the fire of the mortar teams and then forced them back, their frenzied advance giving the Alliance weapon operators only two choices: retreat within the ruined walls, or die messily at their clawed hands and jagged teeth. That was all the impact the mad clones were destined to have, though. The second row of defenses, the mounted heavy repeaters, shredded them. With enough bodies, they might have pushed through, as the did at Csilla.

But not here. Here they were fewer. Here they died.

Behind the disintegrating horde of lunatics, stepping over their sprawled bodies and blown-off limbs, came the eager Marauder Aspirants. They charged with vibroblades and blaster pistols and slugthrowers and stranger things still, a motley collection of weapons for an equally varied band of slave-soldiers. Those that wore armor at all had only light blast vests, and these were no more proof against the power of heavy repeater bolts than bare skin would be. But they weren't meant to overwhelm the Alliance defenses alone.

The coming maneuver required the shields to fall, of course. The plan had been to achieve this with a bombardment from the war skiffs, but then a single Jedi - Madison Starr - had ripped out the heart of the Mawite artillery all on her lonesome, killing dozens of warriors and obliterating multiple armored vehicles. Truly the power that Ashla had bestowed upon her little demigods was immense. But the Scar Hounds had faith that their gods would not abandon them in their time of need... and lo, their prayers were answered.

Fragments of the moon that bore the goddess's name slammed into the shields over the ruins. The energy of a falling meteorite, a great chunk of rock moving with all the incredible force gravity can muster, is staggering, and nothing could hold up against them for long. A great cheer went up from among the ranks of the marauders: "HAIL THE INEVITABLE!" And then the second phase of the plan truly began. As the eager and expendable aspirants charged into the firing lines of the repeaters, the Tarar got themselves into position.

While the young fought and died, the veterans watched. They back-traced the streams of fire coming in from the heavy repeaters and antivehicle cannons, then tagged their exact positions on a shared tactical readout. Slipping in among the charging horde, the Tarar Warbands moved swiftly toward the defensive positions they'd identified, using their own comrades as cover. Then they went to work. With plasma guns, lightning cannons, and frag grenades they laid down pinpoint strikes on the emplacements, slagging their cover.

And hopefully slagging the guns and gunners, too.

The tactical data was also shared with the other element charging down the hill: the Raider Walkers. Most were kitted out for anti-infantry support, with chain guns and grenade launchers that enabled them to chew through Alliance marines and lob explosives into defensive emplacements. Some had the anti-vehicle loadout, using heavier laser cannons and concussion missile launchers to blow through heavier defenses - and to hunt the anti-vehicle cannons that were simultaneously hunting them, trying to outpace their fire.

On the hill above the temple valley, the Scav Kings watched the battle unfold. They were walking a dangerous line. If they spent too many forces here, they would never have enough warriors to mount a meaningful assault on Kaleth... but if they didn't commit enough troops to actually take the temple ruins, they would never reach Kaleth, and it would be a moot point. As Osarla Ridor Osarla Ridor skirted them to the east, heading for the flooded plains, they did not move to intercept her. They did not have the strength to fight on two fronts.

And her departure might weaken their target.

It was a race now, a race to see who collapsed first: the temple valley, or the embattled Brotherhood rearguard around the star destroyer. Whatever happened, the casualties would be immense. Warriors were already dying in droves, and now they were marauders rather than Moon Children. Flashes of white light fwooshed up from each Scar Hound who fell, the bloody runes flaring as the warrior's soul flew from his body and rushed to empower Solipsis. Plans within plans within plans... it was the only hope against so many enemies.

"WAR! DEATH! REBIRTH!" They pushed the ruins hard.

Do or die. Or, more likely, both.

They did not even know of the Scylla AI Scylla AI and its machinations, which were unfolding beneath their feet. The cracking of the ground, the great gouts of lava erupting from fissures and flowing down from mountains, blended into the madness as the sky crashed down around them. It seemed to urge them on, both bolstering and threatening them. If they fell back, if they failed here, the geological chaos would surely consume them, becoming a manifestation of the Dark Voice's wrath. It they kept their faith, it would consume their foes instead.

Or so they chose to believe...

... for their gods were an easier explanation than a mad AI.

--------------------------------

Maple Harte Maple Harte
Only the apocalypse could save them now.

Fortunately for them, it seemed to have arrived.

The flooded plains turned to steam as water and lava met, scalding clouds drifting across the battlefield. The once-peaceful marsh, a shelter for all manner of Tython's creatures, was rapidly becoming a wasteland. Meteor craters and erupting geysers pockmarked the ground, and boggy lakes suddenly drained into wide fissures in the earth. Ancient trees burned in the fires from above and below, adding thick, black smoke to the white trails of flesh-blistering water vapor. They swirled together, a mingled cloud, light and dark.

Through the chaos, the Scar Hound rear guard made their desperate charge. They would not allow House Io to defile the Prophet's holy mountain. Even against droid legions and mega-tanks and so many nukes, they would stand and fight to the bitter end. No matter how invincible their foes seemed, with ships and nuetralizers that just wouldn't go down, they would never give up. "HAIL THE INEVITABLE!" they cried, and the words meant many things: their own deaths, for one, but also the ravaging of this enemy world.

And also the final victory of the gods. Inevitable.

The Avatars persisted, though all the ages.

Their followers would persist also.

It was foolish of the House Io troops, if understandable given their trauma, to take extra time to try to make the deaths of Mawite warriors painful. These Scar Hounds were slave-soldiers, and the pain (both physical and emotional) that they had suffered while being transformed by the Taskmaster and his Overseers inured them to the short-lived torments that were possible on the battlefield. Burning? Dismemberment? Disembowelment? Exsanguination? They'd been put through worse over and over in their minds when they'd been broken.

A good torturer knows that it's not pain that breaks a prisoner; it's hopelessness. Almost anyone can hold out against even horrific torture for hours, even a day or so. What makes them break is the next day, or the day after that, when they realize that the pain will go on and on, and no one is coming to save them. Time and consistency of torture can break almost anyone eventually, but any Io soldier who took more than a few seconds to inflict pain on an already-downed foe was just asking for a blaster bolt to the back. Distracted warriors died.

And so, in the scant seconds they had for painful torture...

... the Scar Hound warriors laughed in their faces.

They died all the same, of course. Lugubraa, humans, near-humans, all of the members of the dozens of species that had fallen into the hands of the sinister Brotherhood, none of them were nigh-invincible killing machines. They were just people, and when they were cut, they bled. But their paradise beckoned them, they believed, the gates of the Galaxy To Come opening wide in a flash of white along the runes that adorned their faces. The flesh was weak, but the spirit was willing, and it flew eagerly to the hand of Darth Solipsis.

The storm of souls joined the physical storms raging across the plain - hardly a flooded plain any longer, but a shattered plain, resembling nothing so much as a mad artist's depiction of one of the Corellian hells. Onas swept her gaze across it, mouth hanging open in a mixture of awe and horror. Energy torpedoes streaked from the Io cruiser, which was somehow fighting the Mawite star destroyer and bombarding the mountain and intercepting many falling meteors all at once. What hope was there against such a foe?

Hail the inevitable, she told herself.

And in her desperate heart, she began to believe.

As if in response, the great Force Storm arising from her dying troops - falling in droves, bleeding out their last upon earth that was suddenly cracked and desiccated - formed into a wall of shadows. Onas was certain she could see faces in that dark, writhing mist, faces screaming in mingled pain and ecstasy. As the turbolasers of the House Io cruiser - the ones it could spare while doing two other things - opened up on the mountain, the wall began to drink in the energy bolts, shuddering as it absorbed their power across itself.

It could not hold forever, not against all the fighters attacking from above and the half-landed cruiser from below... especially once the ship's full attention was focused on it. Already the cruiser was targeting the Star Destroyer's weapon systems, energy torpedoes smashing through shields and steadily melting hardpoints. A stream of turbolasers and concussion missiles still flowed in response; after all, the star destroyer was not splitting its efforts three ways like its opponent was, and could focus fully on the cruiser.

But the foe would not die, and the Mawite ship...

... well, no Mawite was invincible.

"We need fighter support to preserve Thor Yo!" Onas transmitted, her voice reaching out far beyond her own small command, toward the warfleet above. She did not know how little House Io could spare the fighters for a massive ground assault while also massively engaging the Fatalis, for the Maw had no such luxury. Deep in enemy territory, they could not pull resources out of a hat; support had to come from somewhere, and at the expense of someone else. She did not know if Taskmaster Tu'teggacha would respond.

But that was out of her control. Although she had not been a believer in much beyond credits until this moment, she'd heard enough Mawite sermons to know that the gods never asked their followers to do the impossible. She would be judged only on the choices she made, not the choices of others. So what would her choice be? As the world crumbled around her, as the sky wept flaming tears and Tython bled its burning blood, what would her last act be? It'd better be a worthy one, an act that would earn her a place in paradise.

It was time to find a way to die well.
 

Kelinna Tryn

Guest
K

obj1tython.png

R E A P E R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
SOUTHERN QUADRANT | TYTHON
ALLIES: Hal Vaiken Hal Vaiken | Gavyn Berand Gavyn Berand | @whoever I missed | NIO | Enclave | Hellion
ENEMIES: Everyone else - you'll get a tag if you're important
ENGAGING: Gaaraddik Gaaraddik

scar-squadron-header2.png



GEAR: Modified Armour | Sniper rifle | Pistol | Rifle | Vibroblade | Vibroknife | Grenade loadout
irondiv.png

banner3.png

PLANET ZERO

Shit went to hell in a handbasket in 2 seconds flat.

They were just about to breach when contact hailed around them. Lily had already seamlessly swapped out rifles in the blink of an eye by the time Sarge started and then changed his order midway.

:: --hold that -- strafe that carpet from above; Rook, get the fethin' Jedi off this board, stat! I'm going inside.::
<Gotcha.>
Repulsors kicked to life once more and she took off with only a sideways glance at the huge shadow that had just landed with a thud on the train. The boys would handle that one.

Some bolts followed her as she shot up in the air, gaining some altitude, but the one or two that did hit, spattered harmlessly against the armour before she dove down, loosing golden beams towards the marksmen on the ridge. She didn't need a precision rifle to line up perfect shots. Two sharpshooters hit the ground as particle bolts exploded upon impacting their chests.

But then shit hit the fan royally.

One second she was still in the air as a flaming stone sped past her to hit the ridge below her, scattering more shooters. The next, she was hurtling toward the ground too, leaving a trail of smoke from her back as another meteor hit her from behind, frying the jetpack.

She hit the ground with a massive crash as more stones and boulders fired from above. The armour shielded her against most damage, dust and dirt settling around her smoking frame. Dazed, it took her more than a heartbeat to realise she had to get rid of the jetpack ASAP. The foggy scramble to get out of the harness caused her to not register the pain in her side immediately.

It was only as she crawled away from the smoking, sparking jetpack that the pain started to pierce through her dazed consciousness. Fog clearing, she realised that it had to be a broken rib or few. Just then, the sharp jab of stim and bacta injectors shot through her to at least help dull it.

Everywhere around her, marksmen bodies were either lying immovable or stirring like she was. She was still gasping for air when Sarge's voice pierced her ear.

:: What the hell's goin' on up there? ::
Looking up, she realised that is was one of the moons raining down on the planet.
<M-moon is pelting the planet, Sarge.> she gasped. <Some wizard must have done some fucked up joojoo. S-stuff's going to shit out here.>

Some sharpshooter across from her groaned as he started to raise himself from the ground. And then he locked helmeted gazes with her.
"Ah hell." she groaned as her hand shot down to where the pistol on her hip was supposed to be.

But there was nothing.


 



Objective: II - End of an Era
Location: Aboard the Caragol
Tags: NIO - Albrecht F. Herlock Albrecht F. Herlock | VADM Tarsa Doon VADM Tarsa Doon | Caoimhe Crannach Caoimhe Crannach | Caarlyle Rausgeber Caarlyle Rausgeber

Brotherhood of the Maw: Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha | Aldo Garrick Aldo Garrick | Derix Tirall Derix Tirall | Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen

Accord/Allied Forces: Artemis Toth Artemis Toth | Mith'akis'ormo Mith'akis'ormo | Mylo Thorne | Tren Chaar Tren Chaar | Vaux Gred Vaux Gred | Balt Vizsla | Romul Saxon Romul Saxon | Vemric Keldra | Maple Harte Maple Harte | Verin Oldo Verin Oldo Aximand Sicarus Aximand Sicarus

  • Warband Grinâsh gets pummelled by the United Enclave Fleet, with additional damage being inflicted by the forces of the NIO and SJC.
  • Akûz; furious by the sheer magnitude of the counter attack, has ordered the majority of Warband Grinâsh (mainly the Crucifix-II’s and Vagabonds) to charge the Enclave lines.
  • As the majority of the the Warband Grinâsh prepares to charge, the Bhorgoths & Crucifix-1’s unleash counter-barrages against the Enclave, while the Raz’kazar’akh Cruisers fire upon the SJC contingent.
  • Warband Ba’al-toreth has arrived, and begun to engage the forces of Caoimhe Crannach Caoimhe Crannach

  • (8) Bhorgoth Destroyers (10,000m)
    • Nagash
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Bro’kaah
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Kraaj
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Eypa
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Baga Lopech
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Deeping Maw
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Loerekh
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Shaak
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
  • (4) Ra'kazar'agh Cruisers (4,000m)
    • Malediction
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Blasphemy
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Dark Apostle
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Rath-Lakatha
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
  • (8) Vagabond Raider Frigates (4,000m)
    • Memory of Tython (Salvaged GA Frigate)
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 88%
    • Banga’ Rott
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Colonial Transport #111(Former GA Designation)
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Flaaaka
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • C-5720-Besh (Former NIO Designation
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Maelus
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Kr’ogal
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Scaag
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
  • (1) Caragol - Akûz Flagship (2,000m)
    • Shields 68% | Armor 88.2% | Power 88% | Subsystems 100%
  • (2) Crucifix Class-2 Destroyer (4,000m)
    • Brakka
      • Shields 80% | Armor 78% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • K’rggah
      • Shields 81% | Armor 92.5% | Power 90% | Subsystems 100%
  • (4) Crucifix Class-1 Destroyers (7,200m)
    • Varak
      • Shields 82% | Armor 94% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Ra’jaka
      • Shields 88% | Armor 99% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Faerûn-V’okath
      • Shields 91% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Mela’giroth’vaim
      • Shields 85% | Armor 91% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
  • (8) Bhorgoth Destroyers (10,000m)
    • O’goroth
      • Shields 90% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Ligash
      • Shields 92% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Io’eth
      • Shields 92% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Akash
      • Shields 90% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Ri’noam
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Arv’inash
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Bakavh
      • Shields 89% | Armor 90% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Enakh
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
  • (10) Ra'kazar'agh Cruisers (10,000m)
    • Bezarakh
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • H’roggoth
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • A’ashbenaz’ungol
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Cimeno’ath
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Re’oam’ak
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Khand’evaim
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Ni’meloch
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Ganakh
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • U’toch
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Jenakh
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
  • (32) Vagabond Raider Frigates (16,000m)
    • Cleaver
      • Shields 82% | Armor 90% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Jocasta
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Colonial Transport #37(Former GA Designation)
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Rotund
      • Shields 90% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Ren’fiki
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • C-7475-Alpha(Former NIO Designation)
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • A’gash
      • Shields 78% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • A’enak
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Vak
      • Shields 83.5% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Ikbal
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Chronakhal
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Xinoan
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Razorback (Former Eternal Empire Designation)
      • Shields 66% | Armor 89% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • ANV Fatima (Former GA Patrol Craft)
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Desecrator
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Sev’Tok
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Empress Tetah
      • Shields 71% | Armor 87% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Mine Hauler #AV-037
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Begaan
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • ENS Feltic (Salvaged Eternal Empire Science Vessel)
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Khandar
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Vekht
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Mollach
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Stabba
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • The Ram Skull
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Gromandach
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Mine Hauler AV-#047
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • ANV Swyft (Former GA Patrol Craft
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • ANV Eros (Former GA Patrol Craft)
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Mining Hauler #AV-004
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • Striega
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%
    • BRAAAM
      • Shields 100% | Armor 100% | Power 100% | Subsystems 100%


objii.png

No sooner had the Kragamond volley impacted against their targets did return fire issue forth from the Enclave. Super heated slugs and plasma impacted against shields and, in some cases, armor paneling via the Solar Ionization armaments. Ironically, the Caragol took a heavy wallop from the UES Requiem, tanking the lion’s share of her armements while the rest of the fleet did its best to weather the storm of the Enclave’s barrage. Alarm claxons and energy overload warnings began to permeate the warband, with red floodlights flashing across the bridge and casting an eerie pall over The Ravager and his court.

A crewman over by the tactical station yelled a report over the dinn
”Lord, shields are down below 70-percent, with hull integrity reduced to--”

”CHAAAARGE! I WANT THAT FLAGSHIP ON A SPIKE!”

Well familiar with the execution of Akûz’ order to ‘charge’ from prior occasions, his crew immediately set about implementing his commands. His executive officer spoke up to add a level of... detail to his master’s will. ”Set course to ram into the Mandalorian flagship immediately, and convey orders for the rest of the fleet. All Vagabonds and Crucifix-II’s are to set intercept courses to ram targets of opportunity; Bhorgoth and Crucifix-I’s are to engage the enemy with withering fire to cover our advance. Form up the Raz’kazar’akh Cruisers into an advance pattern for after our initial impact.”

Engines and SLAM drives began to spool up across the Mawite fleet, with the Bhorgoths and Crucifix-I’s angling their broadsides so as to apply as much firepower as possible while reducing the overall target they presented to the enemy. The Silver Jedi Contingent and renegade-NIO squadron soon ‘pitched in’ with their own attacks against the Wartribe. While this would naturally redirect the attention of the savages into three separate directions, the warsingers aboard the Raz’kazar’akh cruisers soon began their incantations of focus, which held at bay the overly aggressive nature of the Warband. The vast majority of the mainline ships unleashed return volleys upon the Enclave, with the Raz’kazar’akh cruisers unleashing barrages upon the SJC contingent who began engaging them.

Regarding the NIO forces, yet another surprise would present itself to them. Multiple additional signatures would begin to ping upon their tactical displays; a slight precursor to their sudden arrival from lightspeed. Twenty more ships from the Wartribe emerged before them, comprised of Bhorgoth Destroyers, additional cruisers, and Vagabond Frigates; all of which began quickly acquiring targeting solutions against the forces of Caoimhe Crannach Caoimhe Crannach . Eight sets of MegaCaliber-Six turbolasers then unleashed a steady volley against the fleet commander - even as the forces of Albrecht F. Herlock Albrecht F. Herlock began targeting the same vessels. Whether she intended it or not, it would appear that the fleet commander had placed herself between a proverbial (and in many cases quite literal) ‘rock and a hard-place’.
As the chaos unleashed throughout the engagement zone, the entire forward section of Warband Grinâsh would thrust forth via their SLAM drives. In a matter of minutes, the wartribe would be upon the Enclave fleet. Then...

Then they would witness the true nature of the wartribe.


Even as his ship rocked under the strain of its burst forward, a feral smile lined the primal features of Akûz. His hunger would be slaked, and his master would be pleased with the sacrifice of souls yet to be made.

BESJZu2.png

 
objii.png

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 picks up a lightning gun and joins the Bloodsworn attack
  • After hearing Gallius shout, he marks him as an Enclave commander
  • He tags Gallius with his visor and transmits an image of him to Vorn
  • He steps out from the crowd of warriors and tries to fry Gallius with his lightning gun

ChVAW7n_d.webp

Everything seemed to happen all at once.

One moment the Enclave warrior was spouting his honor nonsense - and blunting his axe by repeatedly slamming its fine edge against the hangar floor. You'd really think he'd take better care of the weapon. The next, all hell broke loose. From the back corridors came mighty Vorm, leading a regiment of fearsome Bloodsworn. They were not an invulnerable, beskar-clad army, but they were among the most fierce and deadly warriors the Maw had to offer; theirs was the eldest of all the marauder tribes, honed in battles beyond counting.

They merged savagery and discipline to terrifying effect.

Mighty Vorm was no less impressive. His broad frame rippled with muscle, all covered by skin as hard as stone, and sinister welded scrap armor over that. Here was a creature forged for war, now unleashed upon the hangar bay. At the same instant that the Knight of Ren and his warriors advanced, a spray of deadly explosives flying out at the mutant's mighty hand, the doors burst off the back of the commandeered shuttle. Out rushed one of the galaxy's most sinister predators, ready to rip into the ranks of the Enclave.

Oh, and there was a branchlurker, too.

Tor'r Tal'Verda and his monstrous steed charged into the fray, crashing into the enemy frontline like the physical embodiment of ravenous hunger. Branchlurkers were so large that they had to eat colossal amounts of meat just to keep their colossal bodies functional, and this one was eager to consume the seemingly endless buffet laid before it. "Excellent timing, brother," Kralmus called out to his vod. "You always did know how to make an entrance." Tor'r shouted a battle cry, and Kralmus echoed it. "FOR MAND'ALOR!"

Ow. Feth. Shouting really hurt his cracked ribs.

As the Enclave warmaster changed targets, trying to head off the alien predator before it shredded his lines, Kralmus holstered his pistol. It would be useless against the commandos, and of limited use even against the less-armored Clan Saxon warriors. Instead he scrambled over to one of the fallen Kitiakira warriors, tugging the lightning gun from the dead man's grip. It was the Grysks who had perfected the weapon, tinkering with it for centuries in their hidden redoubt beyond Chiss Space. But now the Maw had mastered the Unknown Regions.

And now strange technologies from outside Known Space were in their hands.

Fighting past pain that made his vision swim, Kalmus fell into step beside the oncoming Bloodsworn. The Enclave warriors and commandos were falling over themselves trying to react to Tor'r's beast, their commander babbling some long-winded explanation about how to bring it down. Kralmus and his comrades didn't stop firing the entire time the fool was jabbering. His blaster might not be able to penetrate their mighty armor, but a lightning gun could fry a B2 battle droid in seconds; it could certainly cook a commando in his shell.

"MEREEL!" Oh my. The commando commander had a lot to learn about comm discipline. Every last one of his troops was wearing a helmet, which presumably had an integrated comm unit, and yet he was yelling over the noise of battle to give orders. Apparently he realized he was being an idiot, because he stopped shouting after that; presumably he talking to Mereel in his inside voice now. "KRAYT!" Kralmus bellowed, unable to stop his mockery even though each shout sent a fresh wave of pain through his chest. "FETT! WREN! SKIRATA!"

"Let's all shout random Mandalorian names, shall we? It's fun!"


The Bloodsworn did not dignify him with a response.

Kralmus had almost traced Gallius's shout back to where the man stood, intending to fry him, when the Enclave warrior dove for cover against the grenades. Well, drat. But the commander was back up again a moment later, doing some kind of bizarrely showy move; he seemed to forget about his weapons, shoulder-checking a Mawite warrior, and then suddenly remember them, pouring way more close-range blaster bolts into his foe's body than were necessary to kill the poor sod. Kralmus rolled his eyes. What a drama queen this guy was.

Then Gallius went down again, torn from his feet by a pair of Bloodsworn crashing into him. When he next came up, apparently none the worse for wear, he was covered in blood. Well, the red stuff was a pretty good conductor, full of water and iron. Time to test if it would make the lightning gun fry him faster. "Hey Vorm," the cannibal said, sensible enough to just say it into his helmet comm rather than shouting, "let's kill this one. He seems to be in charge." He tagged the Enclave commander with his helmet HUD, transmitting the image to the Ren.

Just a bit of insurance, help in case he got in over his head. He was going to try to kill the fool by himself first, earn the glory.

Pushing his way between two hulking Bloodsworn warriors, Kralmus unleashed a blast of electricity at Gallius.
 
Last edited:
Jd0UQlmpTF3PkNLQZi4Hu4lCYN-FvykZ9o4UZkYVx_yNuwFFygoMw_E6UqgwpEVcIQ7BAvA-3dzP-nn-Sk24R7ssB-p9l0ES1o3o1XlG9o9OSpr7HMgsa1kVLe3RCt3hp7L6Vvmx


Objective: Finish the fight
Engaging: Alexa Alexa

Burning flesh filled her nostrils and spurred the Empress’s dark-fueled fusillade of attacks. She felt the end was nearing, the smaller Elzeri was on the back foot in this engagement. This enticed a part Ki’s mind to continue down this path and continue to seize her foe’s death.

It was right as the blades of the Kitsune were poised to deal the death blow, the ground erupted, sending both belligerents apart.

Ki, took a longer moment to recover than her enemy, her sensitive ears ringing with the left already pooling with blood from the earlier injury. But she regained her feet beneath her with some effort and took in the falling skies. In a normal mindset, she might have thought the threat and moved to evacuate. But here, she found it beautiful, a testament to the power of the Sith’ari.

A soft chuckle escaped as she thought of all her brushings with the pull of the Dark Side. It was all there for her to fall, past lovers, her own upbringing and reign, and most importantly, the emotions that constantly coursed through her heart and mind.

But through it all, she had kept on the lighter side of the spectrum.

Her gaze refocused on her target, who was now in a defensive stance, baiting Ki into another assault.

The once bright light of the Sakura Empire, now took the form of her darker self. Her fur, though still white, was stained with blood and soot. Her facial features had shifted drastically, the emotions flowing allowing more feral vulpine features of her people to show. Canine teeth elongated and cracks around her eyes glowed a soft violet.

Ki exhaled, and hissed with anger and darkness. Tsuriai was replaced with the other white blade of her position, in a reverse grip. Her nine flowing tails fanned out behind her, momentarily taking on the visage of the Akaran Goddesses of old, as the woman once again prepared to launch what she hoped was a final assault. Hoping her mix of Ataru and Juyo to bring her a swift victory.

Suddenly, she once again rocketed towards the other woman, low to the ground anticipating to strike a decapitating blow…​
 
obj1tython.png

Location: Outside of downed Crucifix II Star Destroyer
Tags: Barrien Siegfried


Cuyy6In.png

Things seemed to be going well for Romund and his plan, using the grounded destroyer as a makeshift artillery platform was certainly fulfilling his wish to cause death from afar. Through the Force Romund senses an approaching presence. One he was unfamiliar with. If he could smirk or grin from under his white fabric mask he would.

A few moments past where the guns of the ship continued to blast out in every direction before there was a sudden stop. The guns were still firing, but there was nothing coming of it. Like the blasts were being dispersed mid-air not far from the vessel itself. What was going on? Then Romund saw it, a lone figure out there in the wet field that flanked the star destroyer. Using some trick in the force to nullify the ship’s weapons. But it was only one person…

“DAMNIT!” Romund shouted as his large fist crashed down on a control board in the ship’s bridge, breaking some of the buttons, levers and switches. Not only was he being stopped but it was from a single lonesome Jedi. Letting out an angered sigh he got onto the comms once more. “Ceasefire Now!” He ordered across the ship, seconds later there was no more cannon fire from the ship.

Coming up with a farfetched idea Romund went over to the hyperdrive controls and punched in some commands and overriding all the safety measures on it. If it worked out as planned the idea might just be worth it. “You!!” Romund Barked over to one of the small number of crew that still were on the ship that weren’t dead. “When I say so, push this lever here forwards, and do not hesitate.” Nodding along, the crewman agreed and Romund walked himself out of the bridge to make his way out of the wrecked ship.

Exiting out the same hole he made prior in the ship’s hull Romund looked out in the wet field where he saw the loaner. He would have the Moon Children swarm them but if they could halt his offensive from the ship he figured he would need to do this himself. Long coat flapping in the wind, Romund approached the man. Likely one of the countless jedi that were a thorn in the side of the Maw. Romund didn’t recognize them, and likely wouldn’t need to, he thought. Stopping at a modest distance from them. Standing in the field before each other. Romund looked down at them for a quick examination before speaking.

“I believe it to be unwise for you to confront us here all on your lonesome.” His voice was heavy, and guttural. “I’m afraid we haven’t met before. A shame we only have done so under such dire circumstances.” Despite his voice sounding rather monstrous, his mannerisms and tone had a gentry energy to them. “I’m unsure who will be the victor this day, but either way I assure you the Jedi shall never recover either way.” He added before reaching into his coat before pulling out a lightsaber hilt. If the man before him was observant or knowledgeable enough they may recognize the hilt as being the standardized model of the Imperial Knights. Igniting the weapon a crimson plasmic blade rushed out of it. With a simple salute and accompanying flourish similar to that of a makashi practitioner Romund waited for them to present their own weapon. Romund knew that at any moment he could signaled for the crew back on the star destroyer to blow the two of them straight to hell, or worse…
 


9hfwUriPWDZLrMEQuyhJNsZgDp3YgCow-KCYgHqaK4l_3hsgVOXy0Z-2t36eeZ7H4auvxYZVnXams48Bn5Cd35dRoGjIG3iMVATtp3KJ096VJ7vR4IgQsQo6ooO3UlrMjNzvb9jO



tumblr_pc0e7cUYVg1tovmb9o2_400.gifv

Location: Tython
Equipment: Jedi Armor, Jax's Prosthetic Arm, Jax's Second Lightsaber, Promise Ring to Jairdain
Tag: Anneliese Kaohal Anneliese Kaohal , Cear'bhaill Cear'bhaill


Jax sidestepped his Lightsaber flashing, the Sith lord was filled with rage and hate but Jax could still feel the conflict within her. A presence..... fighting back but with the entire planet exploding around them, Jax didn't have time to focus on it. The Jedi Master got into a defensive position deflecting, parrying and sliding in stabs to the woman. As graceful as a ballet dancer, Jax sidestepped and flipped over the woman going for half circle spin. "Who are you?" Jax asked again. "I feel the conflict with in you."


 

objiiii.png


Heinrich Faust: Grand Marshal of the Ashlan Crusade

Engaging: Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis , Jem Fossk Jem Fossk

Allies: Dagon Kaze, Rurik Fel, Ryv, Corin Trenor, Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor

kP1KTsJ.png


Army of the Night

Dagon's apprentice made his move, and the Sith'ari responded in kind, denying the apprentice the opportunity to end this now. The others hadn't faired much better, their threats falling upon deaf ears as their enemy stood defiantly before them. The hatred flared within the eyes of the Dark Voice as he mocked Heinrich's declaration, outstretching his hand toward the skies as the moon of Ashla was torn asunder. Heinrich felt as if his very soul had been ripped, the pain within him searing at the thought of Ashla's suffering.

"Everyone move, now!"

His body sprang into action, rushing to get out of the way of the imminent impact. As he pushed himself to move, the Grand Marshal realized that there would be no dodging them all...

He had to think fast.

Heinrich called out to the empyrean, digging through the darkness that clouded Akar Kesh in search of the glimmer of his goddess. It felt like wading through the thickest of mud, his mind clouded by the shroud of the Dark Side as he sought the power to get through this. As he searched for something to hold onto within his mind, Heinrich thought of his friends, his people, and Oraada. The thoughts of those he cared about became the light that he latched onto, and finally, through the occluded thoughts of despair, the light began to shine. That bright light became a roaring flame as Cotan began to channel his own energy, feeding it to his comrades in an effort to give them an edge against the Dark Lord.

He took hold of the power, using it to propel himself into the air. As he came down, Heinrich landed on one of the falling meteors, quickly forcing himself to unleash another powerful jump from it, as if it were a springboard. With blade in hand, Heinrich descended upon the Dark Voice, hoping to catch his attention before any more harm could be done. His golden blade slashed downward at the man, aiming for his clavicle with a powerful stroke propelled by the momentum of his full body weight.

"KAIGANN!!!!!"

One way or another, this was going to end...

It had to end.

5m5qOKV.png
 
Last edited:
obj1tython.png


Location: The Rowan Grove Plateau, Mt. Sintarin, Northern Temple Valley, Tython
Allies: BOTM/NSO, Thomas Barran Thomas Barran
Enemies: GA/NJO/Enclave
Equipment: "Bloodreaver" vibroaxe, cortosis sword, Glie-44 blaster pistol, bone armor

"Acceptance of that, still covered in blood, muck, dust an' all sorts.... That, among other things, is exactly what I believe it means to be a Scar Hound. My brothers accept warriors, and they somehow saw one in me."

As the two warriors rode their speeder bikes towards their inevitable fate, Ronar considered his newfound comrade's words. All together, the concepts he presented were alien, yet familiar. Amongst his tribe, one did not become a warrior because they were chosen as such; they became one because there was no other choice. Strength was the only thing that mattered. Whether it was capturing wealth, enslaving prisoners, or even taking one's portion of the victory feast; the strong prevailed and grew stronger, and the weak were left behind. For Ronar, the choice had been even less of his own volition. He was the son of a warlord, equal parts noble scion and possible threat. Even if he wasn't the heir, he had still had younger siblings who craved his standing, and older ones who feared his ambition. A single misstep on the slippery ladder of tribal politics was a guaranteed death sentence. There was advantage in nobility, but danger as well.

Despite this, Ronar could see that the concept, the heart, of the Bloodhound's words still rang true. When strength was the only thing that mattered, all other definitions fell away. It did not matter your origins, your background, how you looked or talked or anything else. If you were strong, you were respected, however begrudging that respect was. Others of your station may fear you, or mistrust you, but when the chips were down, they would rather be fighting next to a warrior who could watch their back than a coward who would leave it exposed. Ronar's tribe had survived as long as it did because, even if every warrior was as merciless and cruel to their own people as they were to the enemy, even if they bickered and betrayed and jockeyed for position, when the warchief sent out the call, they dropped it all and marched as one.

Rule number six, Ronar, said the voice once more, The pack that survives is the one that fights together, no matter how fiercely they may squabble over the prize.

Though Ronar still did not trust the Bloodhound fully - twenty-four years of struggle had taught him to always sleep with one eye open - in times like this, it didn't matter. They had a common enemy, and a common goal, and Ronar would rather have strong warriors on his side than be standing alone. The Scar Hounds would accept him and fight beside him. All he had to do was return the favor. He could worry about such lofty ideals as camaraderie and brotherhood when the enemy was slain or in chains at his feet.

<"Hâsk jiaasen!!!">
The call came over Ronar's communicator like a blaring war horn. Despite himself, he smiled. He had not been with the Maw horde long, but he had been among it long enough to know what those words meant.

'We hide the speeder-bikes here, Ronar.'

Ronar followed the direction of his erstwhile companion, stashing his speeder bike safely in the brush. He followed him into the clearing, which, like the Rowan Grove, was a shockingly peaceful scene compared to the chaos that swirled around them.

'You know the Rune, lad. You know what to do.'

Ronar nodded. This was part of the battle plan that was, like the concept of the Scar Hounds, both alien and familiar. Ronar had painted runes before, his tribe's shamans had often painted the warriors as part of their pre-battle rituals, but Ronar had never really understood the spiritual significance. Be that as it may, there was a certain feeling about the runes and lines, drawn in paint across his body as he prepared for war, that made his heart flutter and his blood race in his veins. At the Bloodhound's command he drew Bloodreaver, saving his cortosis sword for the inevitable battle, and set the tip of the shaft against the ground. With a steady motion he drew his hand along the length of the blade, drawing forth a bright crimson line. As the blood continued to run across the edge, he painted the rune across his bone breastplate.

'Ronar, look at me!'

Ronar turned to see the Bloodhound, knife in hand, blood streaming from his right eye socket. Rather than disgust him, the sight liught the flames of savagery in Ronar's breast. The sight of the blood, the scent, the painting of the rune, the sounds of war echoing in the distance. Ronar growled ferally, mouth spreading into a maniacal smile. He didn't hear much else of what the Bloodhound said; the blood was roaring in his ears now, and every muscle ached for action. Ronar wanted to see blood, he wanted to hear screams.

He wanted to kill.

Bloodreaver was sheathed, blade still dripping. The cortosis sword and the pistol were drawn. Then, everything else fell away.
 
Last edited:
Amani blinked. Like Kai, she was expecting something much more vile, if not outright violent.

"Against my better judgement, yeah." She afforded herself a little bit of sass at the woman trying to destroy her home. If only Surea knew just how close it had been. How close it still was. "Almost like I've been committed to helping the whole time."

Tectonic plates shook. The heavens crumbled. With it all, Amani's facade finally slipped, betraying the anguish she kept trying to hold back. "This planet… My planet… is dying…" She choked, "…And here I am, trying to help you." The last word dripped with venom. Tython's fate rested in the hands of others. By comparison Amani felt small and insignificant. Her efforts futile. Knowing this was the best she could do was the most frustrating experience of her life.

"So why don't you make yourself useful and help me?" She lifted her weight off of Surea. Her gaze rose once more to the looming meteor shower. Even a small one, relatively speaking, was still more than enough to completely obliterate this entire field, and then some. "You owe that much."

So much for no third chances.

 
A field on Tython
Tags: Surea Surea Amani Serys Amani Serys

Surea awoke and asked them why they hadn’t killed her. Kai let Amani answer that question—after all, he’d been all for chopping Surea’s head off. He grew somber as she spoke of Tython as her homeworld, his thoughts turning toward his own planet, which also lay in danger of the Maw's warpath.

Apparently Amani had been trying to help Surea. Kai got the impression that they had met before, and this was all just a continuation of whatever conflict had started between them then. Which meant that he was a bit of a third wheel here, but hey, at least he had helped Amani wrangle Surea into submissio—

Kai’s sense of security and belief that they had the upper hand promptly vanished as Amani took her weight off of Surea, no longer pinning her to the ground.

<If she tries to kill us again, or farts out more of those spores, it’ll be your fault,> he informed Amani, keeping his weapon at the ready just in case.
 
JYniT13.png

Benûwia Antares / Darth Xanesh / Ireria Antares
Sith Lord, Sith sorcerer, alchemist, historian, Archon of the Primyn Group, Owner of UAAK and GBATS
zcCfNJT.png
Objective: Investigate, fight the enemy.
Location: Ruined Temple, Tython
Equipment: Kaldrweave Robe | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit undersuit | Red blade lightsaber (Benûwia) | Red blade lightsaber (Ireria) | Amulet of Many || Empyrean gland || OPBC-01m
Tag: Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield
cBdZI83.png
[ Final Days ]
<"Sith or ur-Kittât"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Thurion shatters her spear and the Force attack was successful as well.
  • Xanesh lost consciousness for a few moments inside the ruins.
  • Xanesh tries to attack Thurion with Force lightning.
JYniT13.png

Benûwia Antares / Darth Xanesh / Ireria Antares
Sith Lord, Sith sorcerer, alchemist, historian, Archon of the Primyn Group, Owner of UAAK and GBATS
zcCfNJT.png
Objective: Investigate, fight the enemy.
Location: Ruined Temple, Tython
Equipment: Kaldrweave Robe | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit undersuit | Red blade lightsaber (Benûwia) | Red blade lightsaber (Ireria) | Amulet of Many || Empyrean gland || OPBC-01m
Tag: Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield
cBdZI83.png
[ Final Days ]
<"Sith or ur-Kittât"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Xanesh investigates the ruins and welcomes Thurion.

Xanesh has not found her place since the Sith Empire collapsed and the Worm Emperor took control of the empire. The old Sith Lady did not accept the new views and as it became apparent that she could not retain the power she had built for more than a decade, she preferred to leave. Here, in this age, in the present, she didn’t have to leave so much behind, but she wasn’t happy. Xanesh has since spent most of her time researching archaeology and research. As always. She found a new home in the Maw, but they didn’t feel really at home.

The methods were too aggressive for two Sith Ladies as old and tired as Benûwia and Ireria. Even Benûwia was tired of this. And since Csilla, both of them, and so Xanesh herself has seen the visions, the dreams. They were on Voss for a while, which is Ireria's other home, but after the Ashlan Crusade occupied the planet, they couldn't return there either. In fact, they have never really found a place in this world, in this time. Everything changed too fast, they were old and wanted a quiet life.

They had not been involved in war for a long time. Now they are made an exception. Before the fight reached this place, the woman examined and looked at the Jedi ruins. After all, she was partly an archaeologist. It's always been fun. After that, however, hell broke loose and the fight began. She could feel the Jedi approaching, and she was still meditating and maintaining Force Storm and Battle Meditation nearby. After all, the old lady was a sorcerer rather than a swordswoman.

She knew her fate, but that didn't mean she wouldn't kill as many Jedi today as she could. Because Xasneh intended to send a lot into the Netherworld. The Sith Lord opened her eyes as she sensed the person approaching. Xanesh, now in an old female body, after the shape-shifting, folded the hood over her head and emerged from the ruins. HSh looked around, recognizing Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield , the High King of Midwinter, Former Grandmaster of the Silver Jedi Order. A worthy opponent.

"Lord Heavshield, we welcome you!" she greeted the Jedi.

She felt the effect of the ritual, she heard the words, "Hâsk jiaasen!" from hundreds of thousands, millions of throats. All the warriors tied their lives, their souls, to Dark Voice. She looked at the Jedi, calmly, peacefully.

"You're late, it's over!" she told him.

3FP3F0q.png

gX73zcp.gif



obj1tython.png

Allies: Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Tracyn Ordo Tracyn Ordo Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka | Team Lightside
Enemies: Ardana Vorco Ardana Vorco (engaging) Darth Libertas Darth Libertas (in vicinity) | Team Darkside
Location: Ruined Temple


The battle was joined now in full, with the Jedi strike teams of Vanagor and Starchaser converging on the temple ruins. Blasters were fired point-blank, lightsabers clashed, and fists were thrown. It was a complete brawl, one that the towering Valkyri was more than suited for; Thurion's fighting style more often than not incorporated jaw-breaking punches and bone-crushing grapples, utilising his superior physical strength and size to his advantage. Besides this, it was also the less lethal way to take down an opponent for a man who abhorred killing if he could help it.

"I don't drink caf," he called back to Caltin while lifting another enemy off his feet and throwing him into a nearby tree with such force it uprooted and fell over, crushing several others. "Wife's tried to warm me up to it for ages, still can't stand it!"

As yet another Mawite charged him, the Jedi Master summoned into his palm his ignited saber still buried in the chest of a previously felled foe just in time to sever the raving madman's hands clean off, following up on the swipe with a roundhouse to his chest, sending him flying.

By now he'd caught glimpse of someone he never would have expected to see ever again, and as he held another enemy in a painful joint lock he was stunned to realise it was truly him. "Tracyn! What are you--" He gave it a good snap, pulling the poor sod's arm out of its socket and letting him drop naturally to the ground before finishing him off with a stomp to the throat.

But before he and Tracyn had the chance to reunite in earnest, another made their sinister presence known. An older woman, from the looks of it, but one unmistakingly aligned with the dark side. Didn't take a genius to figure out which side she was on. She called him out, specifically.

He turned to Tracyn, patting him on the shoulder as he bid him good fortune. But then he added something so cryptic that again served to give him pause.

"Asha...?"

This wasn't the time to stop and find out what Tracyn had meant by that, for the battle soon separated the two as Thurion faced the Sith Lord, azure lightsaber at his side. The two carved out their own little arena amidst the chaos, circling one another like two predators awaiting the opportune moment to strike.

"You have me at a disadvantage, Lady Sith," he replied, offering a slight bow of his head while holding her corrupted gaze without fear. "The Brotherhood will not succeed. By attacking Tython, you've just united every Jedi faction in the galaxy where before there was disunity."

Thurion would then assume the wide stance of Form V long since mastered, lightsaber at the ready. "Ladies first."

JYniT13.png

Benûwia Antares / Darth Xanesh / Ireria Antares
Sith Lord, Sith sorcerer, alchemist, historian, Archon of the Primyn Group, Owner of UAAK and GBATS
zcCfNJT.png
Objective: Investigate, fight the enemy.
Location: Ruined Temple, Tython
Equipment: Kaldrweave Robe | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit undersuit | Red blade lightsaber (Benûwia) | Red blade lightsaber (Ireria) | Amulet of Many || Empyrean gland || OPBC-01m
Tag: Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield
cBdZI83.png
[ Final Days ]
<"Sith or ur-Kittât"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Xanesh summons a Darkshear, but not attacks Thurion yet.
  • Xanesh tries to arouse doubt in her opponent.

"We are Darth Xanesh!" she introduces herself.

She did not particularly expect the man to know her name, although Xanesh was the person who held the rank of Pillar of Advancement in the Sith Empire after the death of Darth Prospero. That is, she was the Dark Councillor for Science. True, it's been more than a decade, slowly, and a half. A lot has changed since then. Maybe she felt the best in this world then. Since then? It was something like it used to be when she lived under Vitiate's reign.

The cycle always goes on.

Sure, she loved the theory of shaping the galaxy in the image of the Sith, but Xanesh only saw another Vitiate behind it. And it was tiring; she wasn't entertained anymore. Once upon a time, she was afraid of that, from the passing. Not specifically Xanesh, but rather Benûwia; Ireria never. And yet at their first death, their souls were locked in a gem and united, so Xanesh was born. They waited there for millennia before they finally occupied a body. The accident denies them ever being part of Netherworld. Maybe, maybe this ritual will change it.

"If so, where are the Silver Jedi Concord's forces? Or where is Saint Holy Kaiser of the Ashlan Crusade? As if I know well, they are nowhere. Ashla's light goes out today, Bogan will overcome. Even if you win today, the Jedi's time is over." she told him.

The world will change today, no matter who wins. The Sih Lady knew exactly that; that was the reason she came too. She watched as the man pulled out her weapon and took the Shien form. It was also Xanesh's preferred form. However, she didn’t reach for the lightsabers on her side. She reached into the Force instead. She remembered for a moment her first battle in this age with Adenn Kyramud

The Sith, the Jedi, the Mandalorians, none have changed over the millennia. They will have to after today…

In her hand appeared a spear of midnight black consisting of Dark Side energies. A bitter smile appeared on her lips. She had not yet attacked, but rather tried to arouse doubt in the former Grandmaster.

"The Jedi are always the ones who want to start the fight in a hurry…" she took only one step closer. "Have you ever asked yourself if it makes sense? You're trying to kill us, you might succeed, you might not. Does a killed Sith change anything? If you want to achieve something here, shouldn’t you be at the scene of the ritual?" she asked him.

3FP3F0q.png

gX73zcp.gif



obj1tython.png

Allies: Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Tracyn Ordo Tracyn Ordo Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka (and others) | Team Lightside
Enemies: Ardana Vorco Ardana Vorco (engaging) Darth Libertas Darth Libertas (in vicinity) (and others) | Team Darkside
Location: Ruined Temple


Thurion watched closely as the Sith identifying herself as Xanesh pulled from the depths of the dark side an onyx spear wrought in shadow, rather than brandishing the traditional lightsaber. An unexpected move, but one he was not unfamiliar with from prior encounters. He'd been a Jedi a long time, he liked to imagine he'd seen it all by now.


"The Light of Ashla can never be snuffed out, nor the Dark of Bogan. The Force always finds a way to balance itself, be it through the actions of the chosen few or through the natural course of time. Without the Jedi to narrow their focus, the Sith too would fall through constant in-fighting. I've seen it countless times before. Your misguided need to cause suffering inevitably serves as your own downfall, and you have no-one to blame it on but yourselves. I pity you."

His stance slightly shifted, from that of the more defensive aspect of Form V to the offensive Djem So. She'd done enough stalling.

"I am not alone. My faith is in my friends. Were I to fall, they will stop you."

Every single Jedi fighting on Tython at this very moment was his brother, his sister, and no force in this universe was, in his mind, more powerful than that of family; duty; honour. The Jedi were all of these and more.

Enough talk.

Thurion seized the initiative, quickly closing the distance between the two duelists in order to fight her on his terms. He used the momentum to his advantage, raining blow after blow down on the Lady Sith, looking to overpower her quickly in order to rejoin efforts to stop the ritual.

JYniT13.png

Benûwia Antares / Darth Xanesh / Ireria Antares
Sith Lord, Sith sorcerer, alchemist, historian, Archon of the Primyn Group, Owner of UAAK and GBATS
zcCfNJT.png
Objective: Investigate, fight the enemy.
Location: Ruined Temple, Tython
Equipment: Kaldrweave Robe | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit undersuit | Red blade lightsaber (Benûwia) | Red blade lightsaber (Ireria) | Amulet of Many || Empyrean gland || OPBC-01m
Tag: Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield
cBdZI83.png
[ Final Days ]
<"Sith or ur-Kittât"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

  • Xanesh joins to the ritual and warned Thurion about the death of the Light of Ashla.
  • Xanesh attacks back.

"Hâsk jiaasen!" she whispered barely audibly as she joined the ritual as well.

Although she did not hope that this would be of any use to her. Her soul and life have long been doomed. Sometime when she first started working with sangnir, thousands of years ago. But maybe, maybe it won't be in vain. Xanesh knew she could never get into the Netherworld, so it didn't really matter. As for her companies, they were already in the right place. She's already spoken to the Primyn Group, Darth Maledictio will take care of her present heritage.

Chuckling at Thurion's words, she felt Vinaze's strength as the eldritch Sith Lord was already in the right place. Exactly as Xanesh had seen it before.

"Oh, we’re talking about the girl, not the Force, not the Light Side. About the daughter of the Sith Lord and the Force Entity. About the Light of Ashla, whom the Crusade considers Living Saint. You will lose the Ashlan Crusade before the end of the ritual." she told him, and an evil smile ran down her lips.

She did not ask for the man's pity, the old Sith Lady did not consider her life pitiful. She lived a lot, she was successful, she was a winner, a conqueror. Maybe she only regretted the ritual that made her here now and not in the Netherworld. But other than that, nothing. Nearly five thousand years passed, but there was still, still a large number of her descendants, many of whom she knew, knew their identities. How many could have said all this? Probably not many.

"Keep your pity for those who need it, Jedi." she told him.

She smiled again at the next one, the man was still blind and did not understand anything. But Xanesh didn't want to explain it to him anymore. Especially not because the man had already attacked. Xanesh knew Thurion was old, too, but he was still moving deftly and quickly. But the woman, too, since Xanesh did not move like an old woman. In fact, the body she was in was barely thirty-five years old, still almost childish, but shape-shifter. Thus, it was not difficult to choose the appearance of an old woman, but it did not have any disadvantages for her.

She avoided the first blows and cuts, and then she tried to take advantage of the fact that she didn't have to go too close because of the spear, trying to pierce the former Grandmaster with the quoted spear in the middle of her chest.

"And the moon is lost, too! Ashla is bleeding!" she said.

3FP3F0q.png

gX73zcp.gif




obj1tython.png

Allies: Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Tracyn Ordo Tracyn Ordo Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka Madison Starr Alessandra Io Alessandra Io Wedge Draav Wedge Draav Osarla Ridor Osarla Ridor @Anyone at the Ruined Temple | Team Lightside
Enemies: Ardana Vorco Ardana Vorco (engaging) Darth Libertas Darth Libertas (in vicinity) | Team Darkside
Location: Ruined Temple


  • Thurion shatters Xanesh's spear before disengaging temporarily.
  • He pours all his strength into establishing a massive Force Barrier around the Temple Ruins.
  • He calls upon other Jedi through the Force to aid him in strengthening the Barrier.

Thus commenced that most ancient of tests, where one champion is pitted against another in the neverending crucible of war. It had existed far longer than either Sith or Jedi, would no doubt exist long after both orders were long gone; a mere footnote in the overall history of this galaxy. Even this cataclysmic battle would one day fade from memory to the point where only learned scholars and researchers are privy to its occurrence.

The Jedi Master was astounded by the speed at which the elder Sith moved, dodging his opening flurry of attacks with surprising agility belying her years. A sudden jab from her darkshear spear forced Thurion to stop and turn sideways, letting it penetrate through his outermost layer of robes. Using it to his advantage, he spun in place to the point that his robes came off and entangled themselves around the tip of her spear.

He then gripped the temporarily pacified end of the polearm with one hand, relying on his superior physical strength to hold it in place as he raised his lightsaber above his head in order to land a powerful blow and hopefully sever the spear in two.

But then his entire being froze in place, and his eyes turned skywards.


"No..."

One of Tython's moons had fractured into pieces, with several fragments sent hurtling down towards the planet's surface. Ashla, the very namesake of the Light side of the Force, had been rent asunder during the course of the battle. He understood now what Xanesh had meant.

Thurion's gaze fell on the Lady Sith, his expression gradually shifting from that of painful disbelief to that of bitter rage. Rather than use his lightsaber, he instead wrapped his hand around the shaft of the spear, ignoring the pain of doing so. A bright light was emitted from his palm; a light so bright it burned through the darkshear until it was severed in half. He then flung his half towards Xanesh, but only as a distraction. He knew she'd deflect the incoming projectile, but it gave him precious time to call on the Force for a powerful thrust of energy sent her way, capable of leveling entire buildings.

Even should she jump out of the way in time, the mighty Force Push would sow chaos in the Sith ranks as dozens were sent flying, freeing up many Jedi to further push on the Temple Ruins.


"COREN," he roared across the battlefield, seeing him face off with another Sith in the distance. "LOOK TO THE SKIES!"

Through their merge in the Force, some of the Jedi in his vicinity gathered around him, acting as his shield. The Lion King raised both hands to the heavens above, drawing further upon the powers that he'd honed over his lifetime to erect a Force Barrier covering a large part of the surrounding area, protecting those within against the rain of celestial projectiles.

Maintaining such a vast barrier alone was extremely draining, but as more and more of his brothers lent their aid to sustaining the shield the burden was gradually lifted. As additional barriers were established, eventually they would link up to cover more and more of the battlefield.

At this very moment, Thurion could not help wonder whether the name of Heavenshield had been placed upon him all those years ago for this very purpose. To save the birthplace of the Jedi Order from certain destruction.


"Lo, there do I see my father," he found himself reciting the warrior's prayers of his homeworld, unintentionally sent to others through the Force merge. "Lo, there do I see my mother, and my sisters, and my brothers. Lo, there do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning!"

Visions of lost family members appeared before him in his strained state. Perhaps it was the delirium of fatigue, or some tear through the Force was playing tricks on him. Perhaps the very gods had sent their spirits to embolden him.

"Lo, they do call to me. They bid me take my place among them, in the Halls of Eternity. Where the brave... may live... forever."

The result was not important to Xanesh, the point was to keep the fight going for as long as she could. If she wins, she can end up with the next cut or stab. The point keeps the Jedi occupied until Solipsis ends his ritual. The more they die in these holy lands, the more successful the ritual will be, the stronger it will be. Holy? She thought for a moment; to one side it is definitely sacred, and to the other it is infinitely cursed.

Everything happened exactly the way the Dark Voice wanted it…

The woman expected the man to be better than the spear would hit him, and indeed he was. In the end, she just stabbed the man's robe and tore it apart as wrapped it around the spear. Although it fell off very soon. That's when the "meteor shower" started in the sky. And the woman was prepared for the attack, which could be so strong that the spear would disappear, but her words then distracted the man, who finally noticed that Ashla was falling to pieces. The next step, however, surprised her.

A mocking smile first appeared on Xanesh's lips as she felt anger from the former grandmaster at the sight in the sky. The next one came as a surprise. The man shattered the spear with the Lightside's power. The Sith Lady had indeed avoided the piece of spear flying towards it, which was shattered afterwards, but it allowed Thurion to accomplish what he wanted.

Although the woman was still able to create a telekinetic shield around her, the ground still disappeared from under her feet and the other Sith and Mawite forces flew back into the ruins. She probably lost consciousness for a few moments, because by the time she opened her eyes among the ruins and debris, Tython was also starting to rage. She felt the earthquakes, saw the earth open and the lava flow. Xanesh felt the wrath of the planet.

<"Good!"> she said.

She came out of the ruins, looking for the Jedi, especially Thurion. She saw him and the other Jedi were trying to maintain a Force barrier. Xanesh didn't want to get any closer yet. The Sith Lady reached into the Force, began to concentrate; after all, she has always been more of a sorcerer. As the Force energies began to gather around her, the woman rose a little into the air. Countless purple lightning danced around her and in the air.

She pounded all the summoned Force lightning, dozens, to the place where Thurion was just meditating and praying…

3FP3F0q.png

gX73zcp.gif
 
Overseer for Imperial Scientific Development



Dr. Trinity Harris w.o.
DXenbo MAnthro
Overseer for Scientific Development


Location: Landing on Tython
Objective: Scientific protection missions
Tags: OPEN but not for PVP

Weapon: HH38 Geysa Hybrid Pistol
Vibrokukri
Riding: Phantom
Accompanied by: Plushee Companion Droid
Wearing:
Hersir Imperial Uniform
Guardema Bio-suit
OPBC-01e
Ship: 2 x Carrack Class Science Vessel 1 military support and 2 storage mission pods
ENS Mihaly and ENS Prosperity

Untitled47-20220415181345.png

This made no sense, all of the information she had, indicated that this was an artificial structure filled with ancient data, but now, here they were, nearly a mile under ground and nothing but natural caves. No signs of any guards, or even habitation down here. The ultrasonic buzzing continued but other than that there was very little indication that this was anything but a natural cave system, was this a complete bust, it was beginning to feel that way at least.

She carried on down further before stopping, startled, ahead of her was an eerie glow of a strange plant, or more accurately, plants. She pulled out her scanner, it wasn't these making the sound, but they were emitting a very strange radiation. The Xenobotanologist was immediately intrigued.

Untitled53-20220422222502.png

She investigated the blue ones first, the radiation was in biogenic wavelengths, not unlike those used to treat disease. She began to take small samples to run intial tests on. "I want samples from both red and blue, and at least two entire plants including roots into the stasis pods. These are a novel species, we might have discovered something special her today."

The ultranauts, under the supervision of Dr. Harris began collecting samples, both colours had radiation of precisely opposing types coming off them. She was pleased she had her guarderma on and the Ultranauts were in their regulation protective gear. Once they samples were all in the pods, Trinity breathed a sigh of relief and checked her test modules. Interesting.. she spoke into her recorder "Sample Ty-B-01 exhibits a similar chemical makeup to the curative salves used by pre-hyperdrive species a22038, with several changes. Crystalline structure similar to kyber including energy propagating properties."

"That it Overseer? We heading back up yet?"

Trinity frowned and deactivated her recorder. "not yet, it looks like the cavern goes down another half mile then opens up into a large room, we need to check that out." It was best place she could think of for this elusive data cache, she supposed they could be in and out within the next two hours. Her comm was not receiving much down her, but the MEIPOC updates indicated the battle was in full swing, but their sector was still clear. She hoped to be out before that changed.

 

obj1tython.png


1st Dunwall Irregulars (The Devils of Dunwall)

Tags:
Bex Tarring Bex Tarring , DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran , Julian Qar Julian Qar , Tulan Kor Tulan Kor
GalidraaniDivider.png

Part One: Back in Business

The war had raged on, and the DI waited patiently for their next deployment. It had been years since they had seen proper combat, having shifted their focus to maintaining the Galidraani home front, ousting whatever remnants of dissident Sith sympathies remained within the dark corners of the system. It was dirty work, but the Devils of Dunwall never shied away from getting their hands dirty. They were common folk, after all, many having started as simple men from the countryside. The dirt was in their blood, the soil of their home pumping through their veins with every darksider they killed. Through it all, the Madman himself ensured that there would be no trace of the former regime in the region.

Tyrell had finally settled into his rank, or at least, as best as he could. Though the machinations of Galidraani High Command were becoming more natural to maneuver his mind around, the man could still feel that very same soil calling to him, nagging at him to get his feet dirty and his boots wet. He had almost deployed the DI on Noris, wishing to get the lads back in the fight proper. Perhaps they could have made a difference, but perhaps not. Either way, he needed a fight, and soon. Thankfully, he would be getting one soon enough.

The orders came down directly from the Lord General himself, outlying the Imperial plans for deployment to Tython. The ancient home of the Jedi was of little concern to the Empire, as they had cast aside the petty squabbles of Light and Dark in favor of Order. Despite this, the opportunity to strike against two opponents was not one that they would miss, and the NIO certainly never shied away from a scrap. So it was all hands on deck, and in the wake of the coming storm, Tyrell Lockhart would finally feel the grime of battle upon his hands once again.
GalidraaniDivider.png

Part Two: The Devil's Due

Club Foot

Dropships descended upon the ground of Tython as the battle raged both above and below, managing to touch down upon the planet with little damage. It was a combination of skill, precision, and luck that got the DI to the ground before they could get shot out of the air, causing Tyrell to make a mental note of the pilots that had coordinated the deployment. They would likely be needed again before the day was out.

As the rest of the DI unloaded from their dropships, Tyrell stood before them, pacing back and forth as he gave them a good lookover.

"Right, so, I know I 'aven't been among you lot in a while. Some of ya might not 'ave even seen a day when I was yer commander proper. To those of ya that 'ave, well... it's good to be back. It's been a while since we've 'ad a proper fight, lads. Today, I'm gonna give ya one."

The more experienced of the Irregulars let out a cheer, having remembered fighting alongside the Madman in the snow-covered trenches of Csilla. It brought a fiendish grin to Tyrell's face, his speech picking up in volume as he began to match the energy of the lads.

"To the rest of ya, well, I suppose yer gonna see just why these lads are itchin' to get to it. Today, we find ourselves in a familiar space. It's the entire galaxy at play 'ere, lads. Another one for the history books. An' I don't 'ave to tell ya what that means for the Empire. We are to support our fellow Galidraani on this day, and together we will bring the full force of the Emperor down on these Forcies and their kin."

He was shouting now, his blood boiling with the fires of heart and home, his body as animated as he had been in his early days among the DI. He began to shout part of the war cry they had shouted on Csilla all those years ago.

"NOW, 'OW FAR ARE WILL WE GO?!"

"ALL THE WAY TO GALIDRAAN!"

"HOW FAR?!"

"ALL THE WAY TO GALIDRAAN!"

"Good! Now, check yer weapons, and keep yer wits sharp. We've got some killin' to do."

As they moved out to the rendezvous, Tyrell sent a message to Bex Tarring Bex Tarring and DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran , signaling their approach as he barked into the comlink.

<<This is Devil One to all Galidraani units. The lads and I 'ave landed. Moving to rendezvous with the Brambers. Will be at your position shortly. Devil one, out!>>

With those words, they began their push into the chaos of battle once more, a pack of devils ready to bring the fury and hellfire of the Empire down upon whoever might stand in their way.
GalidraaniDivider.png
 



obj1tython.png


4Mr5E7n.png

Alliance Allies: Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka l Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield l Osarla Ridor Osarla Ridor l Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel l Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser l Alessandra Io Alessandra Io

Area of Operations: The Mongrel The Mongrel Darth Saevius Ardana Vorco Ardana Vorco SF-3335 Project Uriel Darth Libertas Darth Libertas Rose Dorce Mount Kalgan crew



NORTHERN LINE

JEDI TEMPLE RUINS

TYTHON​




Broken saber.


He flicked his radio on the console, looking down at the crew chiefs manning the various and vital duties of refitting his HAAT for another assault. Unlike the other outfits, he was not outfitted for troop transport- he was outfitted for one thing and one thing only.

War and all it's ugliness.

He got the thumbs up from the scrambling Crew Chiefs, who quickly cleared the launch pad, disconnecting the refueling lines.

"Clear down and left." He said, turning his head to look outside the HAAT. Sensors overtook the area, sure, but it was never wrong to actually look at where you were. His co-pilot, another Alliance Pilot, Chief Warrant Officer Rev, looked right, clearing his sector. "Clear down and right."

"Copy that. Igniting engines." Rev locked in, checking his systems. "Clear to fire, sir." Wedge placed his fingers on each fuel switch, breathing deeply. "One to fly." The engine roared to life, and he took pause, making sure no fires occurred before takeoff. "Two to fly." Fuel to each engine caused them both to roar to life. "Repulsors coming online now, sir." Rev said, which caused them to hover just a few feet off the ground. "Landing gear coming up." Wedge echoed after the Repulsor screamed to life. "Landing gears are up. Good to fly."

"Copy that, Razor One heading to assist with Broken Saber call." Wedge said over the radio, his Gunship screeching over the chaotic battlefield, dodging the incoming... moon. "Is that the fucking moon?!" Rev said into the ICS comms of the gunship. "Looks that way." He said, watching the pieces impact the battlefield, sending shockwaves of dust and debris into the air. It was truly hell. He once read that hell was the impossibility of reason. But hell looked a lot more like Tython from where Wedge was looking. The sun was blotted out by ash and fire, and men died by the dozens every minute.


Wedge's smooth-talking voice came back over the radio.

"Razor One landing, prepping to drop. Standby for rapid deployment. Brought more friends."

A fully trained Alliance squad could dismount a HAAT quickly, Wedge bet they could do it even faster if they were motivated, or getting shot at. Which, at the moment, they were both. Blaster bolts exchanged a chorus with each other, each one complimenting each other with a deadly volley of fire. The landing zone that was cleared by the Nova Corps was well-received, and the Squadron of Gunships touched down and took off, Wedge included, without so much of a hassle. They implemented a Cane-like pattern, the lead Gunship being the base of the cane- allowing for protected troop movement. The curve of the cane took off first after each touched down, and the Gunships departed upwards, into the rising ash and smoke from the battlefield. Blaster fire pinged harmlessly off the hull, standard infantry rifles having not much chance of punching through Wedge's armor. But it showed that the Maw was not unaware of the new presence on the battlespace, the Squadron of Gunships.

"Razor One. Beginning Gun-Runs on targets in the open."

It'd been quite a while since the events of Velga, and this time- Wedge had a better method of engaging the enemy this time, on the ground at least. "Assault Shields to the front." Rev said, plotting targets with his controls of the rockets. Wedge looked at the Maw troops flooding to the Temple. The other gunships in the Squadron- eight at the moment, rose into the air in a curve-pattern.

They came out of the setting sun, and angled their chin-mounted guns and rockets at the enemy- and fired. It was such a terrible set of noise, Wedge's Squadron raining death and fire on the enemy. The missile explosions, and the sound of the turrets firing at stutter fire- the ground, the Maw troops advancing in the open, unprotected were shredded. Wedge banked hard right, flying low and fast past the Defenders of the temple after his first run, to which the rest of the Razor Squadron followed suit-

They wanted the Alliance to know they were in the sky, just as much as they wanted the Maw to know. For the Maw, it was fear, and dread. For the Alliance, they wanted to deliver hope as much as troops and ammunition.

Wedge pulled up on the collective and maneuver the cyclic stick, his squadron preparing for another deadly attack run.


RAZORSQUADRON
Razor 1Razor 2Razor 3Razor 4Razor 5Razor 6Razor 7Razor 8



 
Last edited:



obj1tython.png


MOSHED-2021-2-26-1-10-36.gif







No, he wasn't in Command this time. In fact, he preferred not to be. He had been tasked as an advisor, and a trainer for the ragtag bunch of soldiers known as Dunwall Irregulars. It had taken some time, but with Tulan and other experienced Veterans help, and a rigorous and focused training plan and targeted mission sets and operations, he had helped turn the Dunwall Irregulars into a formidable, lethal fighting force.

In his armor and carrying his fancy new rifle, and a few other gadgets and gizmos standard to a Commando on this type of operation- namely, water and ammo, Tulan trudged along, not saying anything with his compatriots. He moved over to communicate with Tyrell Lockhart Tyrell Lockhart , a promising younger soldier with a good career ahead of him. Ever the teacher, Tulan spoke quietly, slinging his rifle to speak with his hands while they moved across the battlefield.

He liked Tyrell, he was a good soldier, but he needed more professionalism and... less... Galidraani-ish. Though the latter part was proving hard to fully remove.

"Next time you're about to drop, make sure to reinforce your small unit leaders with actions-on objectives- Excuse me."

Tulan turned, dropped to a knee, and opened a chest cavity of a Mawite soldier with a well-aimed shot from his rifle, that dared to interrupt his time with one of his favorite new soldiers.

"Remember, if you go down, you want to make sure that your NCOs and junior Officers understand your mission as well as you do. Good job, though."

"Nice speech."


Tulan then moved out with the rest of them. And if he could have, he would've smiled.






 
In the Darkness there is Truth
obj1tython.png

Allies: Theoretically Maw
Enemies: Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser (Engaging), Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel , Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield (in vicinity), GA/NIO people.
Location: Somewhere near Kaleth

The sky was falling upon them. Well, not literally, but a moon was. Libertas felt the energies of the Force flow through the Jedi, and braced herself. Sure enough, a telekinec push erupted from the Jedi, sweeping towards her. It collided with her. The impact by it itself was not particularly harmful, though she groaned, but it did send her soaring through the air until she managed to break her fall, landing hard. Behind her elongated helmet, some blood dripped down her face.

She quickly got to her feet, sword still in hand. The Jedi was not pressing his attack. She could perceive the translucent golden barrier, and the connection being woven between the Jedi. "You know it's rude to turn your attention from a foe. Also unwise," she remarked sardonically. "We are not done, Jedi. But I am not a fool - I will help you stop that moon, and then I will teach you a lesson."

The very earth she stood on shook, forcing her to anchor herself as she dug in her heels and stabilised her footing with the Force. But the heavens were falling, as searing shards of the moon descended through the clouds at an alarming rate. Tython itself howled in pain and rage.

"Oh, cut the drama. Can't you fight a Jedi in peace without your own allies trying to kill you?" she remarked to no one in particular, sighing in exasperation while she looked to the heavens. "All this for a planet that in the greater scheme of things is pretty irrelevant for Jedi other than the fact that their ancient forebears came from here." And the atavistic Je'daii had been swept aside by the tides for a reason. Such arrogance to assume you can 'eclipse the light' and cause a seismic shift in the Force by waving some sorcery around, she thought dismissively. The Force requires balance.

True balance. Not that chosen one bedtime story. Not that nonsense 'Grey Jedi' preached because they needed an excuse not to take a stance. Strong Jedi against strong Sith. It was struggle that brought growth. So she let the energies of the Force flow through her, feeding on the darkness that was engulfing the battlefield as she poured energy into providing a shield against the doom from above and. Of course, she was keeping energy in reserve. Her overriding goal was keeping herself from being crushed. It was self-preservation, not altrusim that motivated her, after all.
 
Last edited:


itcbcMs.png

DON BELKORA
COMPNOR
OBJ3
Rika Hiro Rika Hiro Darth Ptolemis Darth Ptolemis
gYuI3OX.png
"Nawh, but there will be," Belkora replied grimly to Rika as he gazed upwards to the mountain from where distant shrieks and screams rang out among the rumbling explosions and destruction in the distance. In trickles, they descended from the hills, and then in a tidal wave of dozens of them, screeching and hollering with weapons in hand and clambering over each other in a frenzy, came right for him and his men.

"OPEN FIRE OR BE DEAD," He said as Belkora fell into step beside the rest of his boys and opened fire. The man's voice tinged with surprise and annoyance as he ripped open blaster bolt after blaster bolt into the mob descending upon them. The rest of his team moved into position in a triangle-shaped line, deftly picking off any and all Mawites getting close as they began to converge on Belkoras unit. It was difficult to focus when the very air he breathed was trying to choke him. He grimaced and spat a glob of spit on the ashen ground, yanking out his side arm and firing his pistol while using his free arm to fire his other rifle from the hip.


"Move up, Hiro and take the flank kid."
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom