Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Annihilation Shatterpoint | BotM Annihilation of GA Held Tython


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The wieghtless feeling was gone. The feeling of a hard floor returned, though. It mattered little. Whatever thoughts she had, whatever desires she was trying to enact. The Light burned that away. Pain, unlike anything she'd experience before, ripped through her. The Rot that had poisoned her now kept her alive. And the Light burned it away. Even the briefest flash had her whole body alight with pain. The wounds from before split open, causing her rotted blood to once more ooze around her.

Not that she was aware. Even as she laid out in the slowly growing pool of festering rot, she couldn't form a thought. Mind numbing pain. She'd experienced it before, sure. But not like that.

Though the com on her wrist continued to flash. Then likely an alarm on Amani's shuttle as Surea's own finally arrived. Guns revving up. Surea's Rot wasn't just her own weapon. If she was going to be captured, her droid pilots orders were clear. Missiles launched.

Rot was not allowed to be cured.

Amani Serys Amani Serys | Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
 


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Allies: Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor | Team Lightside
Enemies: Scylla AI Scylla AI | Team Darkside
Location: Kaleth Underground


  • Thurion boards one of the gunships heading back towards Kaleth.
  • Thurion leaps down into the chasm along Caltin Vanagor and several NPC troops.
  • Thurion engages one of the Scorpenek Droids.

"Hold the line," he bid Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser and his wife Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel as a squadron of gunships appeared from above on the order of Master Vanagor. "We'll be back in time for the victory feast!"

In quick succession the strike team of volunteers had boarded shuttles arriving in timely manner, and just like Caltin he too could feel it. Kaleth. With so much chaos and so many disturbances in the Force going on simultaniously, narrowing down the sensation of where to go was difficult at first. The planet itself was crying out, steeped in the Force to its core as it was, calling on its defenders to seek out the ancient Je'daii ruins of Kaleth. Like a beacon shining a light at where to go.

The flight was short but intense, as several gunships were lost to the onslaught of AI-controlled fighters, but descend into the vast chasm they did nonetheless, hovering low enough for their occupants to jump or repel to the bottom. This was likely a one-way ticket however; unless they defeat the evil which lurks in the darkness below, the chance of getting ride back to the surface was slim at best.

Coci would understand. They'd worked hard to ensure House Heavenshield's future, with or without its founding patriarch to lead them. Their children were ready to take up the mantle.

Deep underground, they knew they'd come to the right place when encountering a plethora of agents of the enemy in the form of Sith warriors, mad cultists, and killer droids. Even a few Yuuzhan Vong, if legends were to be believed. Soon they were engaged, as friendly troops opened up on them while the Jedi closed the distance, indiscriminately going to town on whoever stood in their way. Time was of the essence like never before.

"These tunnels go on for miles," he called over to Caltin while slicing through a duo of battle droids. "They must've been at it for a good while!"

Ever the brawler, Thurion stopped a third Super Battle Droid from taking a swing at him by catching its robotic arm and ripping it off its hinges before using its own wrist-mounted blaster against itself, firing at point-blank range. He was able to snipe several more droids before the arm was suddenly targeted by a red dot sight, moments before it was shattered by a powerful shot from afar.

"We need to push through those big guys if we're to take out those snipers, they're wrecking havoc on our troops! You take the one on the right, I take the one on the left!"

Thurion proceeded to dodge a crimson lightsaber swing and leap through an opening between two other foes just wide enough to fit his large frame, tucking into a roll as he landed before clapping his palms together, turning them until they faced outwards, and using the Force to push aside anyone left standing between he and the massive Scorpenek as if parting the seas.

He deflected its blaster bolts with his lightsaber, but reflecting them back at his opponent proved futile as its energy shield prevented any such damage. Thinking on his feet, he noticed a large stalactite jut out from the cavernous ceiling in the path of the Scorpenek's slow retreat. The Jedi Master began to instead reflect its blaster rounds up at the ceiling, aiming for the base of the protruding rock. Piece by piece was chipped away, timing it so that when it eventually did succumb to its own weight and came crashing down, landing on top of the massive battle droid.

Its energy shield temporarily disabled from the unexpected impact to its systems, Thurion quickly closed the gap and leapt on top of it, about to cleave through its central processing unit when the Scorpenek swung its hulking body around, causing him to lose his footing and drop his lightsaber. For now, he was hanging on for dear life as it flailed side to side, attempting to throw him off.

"Blasted bucket of bolts!"
 

Equipment:
Allies: GA
Enemies: MAW
Tags: Khione Khione

The bolts strafed across her topside shield as she flew around - the voice rapping over the radio only confirming her assumption about the pilot. "I remember you well, little bird, though we never exchanged names - you can call me Ari for whatever's left of your life." A thick New-Alderaanian accent escaped her lips as she tauntingly introduced herself to this worthy opponent. "Yourself? I should know the name of the bird whose wings I clip." Tapping her hand quickly but precisely across her control panel, Ari keyed her dampeners as low as was safe and her stabilizers and thrusters for the absolutely maximum maneuverability.

As soon as the fighters engaged, she pulled the A-wing up quickly into a rolling loop, adjusting the thrusters and their gimbals at precise intervals. At a random and unpredictable point in the loop she cut her engines - spiraling off straight while, hopefully, one or both of the opposing fighters would continue the expected path and overshoot - in any case once they departed that point of the loop she would kick the engines back on, loosing a flurry of laser bolts at whichever fighter was unlucky enough to fall for the trap.
 
NPC Storyteller


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THE PROPHET'S GATE
The Rite of Wakening


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Tython, the Old City, Yesterday
At the beginning of Tython's recorded history, tens of thousands of years ago, the strange Tho Yor ships had brought Force-Sensitives of many species from all across the galaxy to this mysterious Deep Core world. These were the ancestors of the Je'daii, and once they arrived, they were stranded. They had no hyperdrive technology, and although they were eventually able to colonize the various planets within the Tython System, they could not leave. Until the arrival of the Rakatan Infinite Empire, whose captured technology eventually led to the development of the first hyperdrives, they were stuck in the mysterious Deep Core. They would never see their homeworlds again.

Some of them never found peace with that fate. Some of them were determined to find some way out of the Tython system, to return to the stars. They searched every enigmatic Force nexus and mysterious ancient ruin, looking for some way to escape this place where their ancestors had suddenly been taken. Until the Rataka, there was only one method of escape that ever came close to succeeding. Osamael Or had found it, deep beneath the Old City, the planet's eldest ruins. Dalien Brock and his Stargazer Cult had chased it, recreating an ancient device they believed could activate it. The Je'daii Council had feared it, denying its existence, guarding the way to it.

In the end, it had never been activated. Brock and his followers had been killed. The knowledge had been lost.

That little conflict had been overshadowed by the conflict with the Rakata, and the deadly Force Wars that followed. The battles had fractured the Je'daii Order, once obsessed with balance in the Force, into factions dedicated to Light and Dark. The schism was the genesis of the Jedi and Sith, the very beginning of the countless conflicts that would shake the galaxy for the following thirty thousand years and more. It had all begun here, on Tython. There was no more fitting place to bring it all to an end, to kill the past and make room for something new. That was exactly what the Brotherhood of the Maw intended. Here they would strike the deathblow for this corrupted age.

And they would do it by following in the footsteps of the ancient Stargazers, among the first to defy the Je'daii.

Deep in the cavernous subterranean chambers of the Old City, the Kagan-Jin scout Sarnai did not consider any of this history. She didn't know any of it, didn't recognize the significance of this place. It mattered only to her because she had been ordered to find and prepare it, and those orders came from the Prophet himself. But as she walked through the colossal room, passing giant, blocky obelisks that thrummed with strange energies, she could not help but feel a sense of awe. She could not sense the Force as the Jedi or the Priests could, but even she could tell that some incredibly vast and ancient power was at work here. The scale of it all was staggering.

Even with a copy of Osamael Or's book in hand, it had taken many days to locate the hypergate chamber. It was deeply buried enough that the Je'daii had been able to deny its existence, even while archaeologists explored the upper corridors. The search had not been without cost, either. Ancient traps, no doubt left behind by the paranoid Je'daii Council, had claimed more than half of her scouts. And those who had survived weren't necessarily unscathed. Sarnai flexed a hand that now had only three fingers, staring at the blackened stumps where a high-power blast had seared two of her digits into oblivion. She was lucky she hadn't lost the whole hand.

It was said that the hypergate required a specific device of Gree design to operate - a device fueled by dark matter, a dangerous material to harness and work with. The Je'daii council had feared that, rather than open a gate to the stars, it would simply rip Tython apart, leaving an all-consuming black hole where the planet had once been. But with the benefit of hindsight, that had never been likely; even a huge and advanced hypergate such as this would be hard-pressed to destroy an entire planet. The entire Old City, maybe, if things went catastrophically wrong, but the entirety of Tython. If that had been possible, the Brotherhood would certainly have tried it.

Though a copy of Or's book had survived the millennia, the highly complicated blueprints that the Stargazers had used to recreate the Gree activation device had not. Agents of the Brotherhood had chased down every possible lead in the search for them, brutally interrogating history professors and artifact collectors across Known Space, but they had found nothing. Even the Gree themselves had long since forgotten how the hypergate worked, or how to build its activator. The dark matter device was lost to the all-consuming sands of time, and with its loss, the Tython Hypergate could never again be activated as intended. The Gree network would remain silent.

But the Mawites didn't need to connect to the Gree network. They didn't need to be able to enter this gate.

They only needed the gate to be open to things coming through from the other side.

Because another had arisen, in the millennia since the fall of the Gree, who was a master of hypergates. Omni, the Droid God, the mad AI who had carved out Its own realm in the Netherworld of the Force and tried to rewrite all of reality. No one knew where It was now; it had vanished in the wake of the mortal invasion of Oblivion. But Its works had remained, and one of them had fallen into the Brotherhood's hands. The Maw now had the means to open Omni's hypergate on Lao-mon and connect it directly to another active hypergate, a technique they had tested successfully on Empress Teta. All they had to do was activate the destination point and lock onto the endpoint.

Sarnai and her scouts had come here to do the former.

The chanting of Darth Ptolemis Darth Ptolemis would be the beacon that allowed for the latter.

They would have only one shot at this. The Mawites would have to energize the hypergate, juice it up with everything they had, in order to jump-start it; they had none of the knowledge or tools they needed to spin it up properly, so this jury-rigging was their only chance. Too little power, and it would sputter and die, wasting the fuel they'd brought with them. Too much and it would overload, taking them all with it. And even if they hit that balance, they would have to do it at exactly the right moment. They would have to do it just as the Brotherhood's tamed Omni-Drone locked onto Ptolemis's ritual signal, connecting Tython and Lao-mon across countless light years.

The odds were against them... but the gods were with them.

Glancing across the chamber, Sarnai looked over the "fuel" that her scouts had been able to round up. There had been no possible way that they could smuggle some giant power source though Alliance customs, even amid the chaos of the mass refugee exodus from Teta; no group of pilgrims traveled with a dozen industrial generators. So they'd had to get creative, a dark plan to provide power another way. They had hidden the disassembled Entechment rig among their personal belongings, each of them carrying only a single component, so that it was not obvious what they were bringing in. Now the horrific device stood reassembled, hooked up to the hypergate's massive network of cables and power storage modules.

The "fuel" was forty-three Tythan settlers, kidnapped in the dead of night by Sarnai's scouts and marched into the desert. They were simple farmers and fishermen, mostly, colonists who had settled on the southern plains and outlying islands so that they could be left alone. Sarnai did not pity them. They'd had such meaningless little lives, and she was about to give them purpose. When the time came, they would be Enteched one by one, for the Mawites had only been able to smuggle in a single rig. Timing would be everything. They had to keep the power building and building, souls turned to technological power, enough to open the gateway and hold it open.
On the other side, amidst the steaming jungles of Lao-mon, a great army of Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood 's Bloodsworn would be waiting. This would be their chance to even the odds just a bit, to bring reinforcements from the south to assault Kaleth and provide some relief to the small landing force that would be hard-pressed in the north. This would be their back door into Tython, their only chance of getting additional forces through the massive defensive screen that all of their countless enemies would be putting into orbit. And the whole thing balanced on a knife's edge, on technology they didn't truly understand and monsters they had only half-tamed.

Sarnai closed her eyes, slowed her breathing, calmed her frantic heart.

All would be as the gods willed.

Soon.


 
The airlock had shut. Whatever hadn’t been sucked out into space fell back to the floor with a synchronous thud. Surea’s reaction to the Light had been much more visceral than Amani thought, leaving her incapacitated on the cold metal, for now at least. She afforded the Sith a modicum of pity, but no more than that. There was hardly time to dwell on the matter regardless, as emergency lights flushed the ship’s interior with red.

“...Son of a-” The curse was inadvertently censored by the impact of missile strikes, shaking the hull and those inside. With no one at the helm, they had no chance of stopping whatever attacks followed, and shield integrity was already in danger. The ship had its defenses, but a combat fighter it was not.

Amani regained her posture and looked to Surea once more. She had half a mind to let the ship be destroyed, and take them both out if it meant stopping the Rot. But it wasn’t just them inside. Her gaze then turned to Kai; A busted leg, and a susceptibility to the sickness currently pooling on the floor. “C’mon!” Amani wrapped his arm over her shoulder, supporting him on the way back towards the cockpit.

“Can you fly?” She asked, stopping shy of the pilot’s chair. Outside the viewport, Surea’s ship was visible, weapons spooling up for their next attack. “Someone needs to take care of our guest.”

Whatever happened, Surea couldn’t be spared any more chances for escape.

 
Missiles impacted against the hull as red lights flashed and sirens blared. Kai grimaced as the shaking ship jolted his broken leg. Were they up shit creek without a paddle? Almost, but not quite.

Amani hustled him away from Surea, who was turning into goop on the floor like a wicked witch when exposed to water. Oh, what a world, what a world. Kai was brought to the cockpit, where a panicked Amani asked him if he could fly.

<...Yeah?> he replied, not sounding very sure of himself. He knew how to pilot well enough to get from one place to another, but dogfights and space combat were a little outside his range. As he turned to look out the viewport window, he saw Surea's ship already gearing up for another attack.

Without further delay, Kai took the reins, initiating evasive maneuvers. <Does this thing have weapons?> he asked, wondering if they should fight back or just try to flee.

 

THE END IS THE BEGINNING

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:: Hanger, Avatar of War



Runi's helm inched to the side at Onrai's grapple. "Do you know why we wear helmets?" The muscles in the Mandalorian's arm bulged and flexed as she kept the connection across the tendril taunt. Meanwhile, the armored woman strained to step to the side a few scant degrees. "When you face one Mandalorian, you face us all."

A clap shot through the hanger heard clearly by those that fought nearby, and likely mistaken for one of many explosives lobbed in the din of battle by those further away. White hot rivulets formed along the length of the second blade as Runi had drawn it down and back. The tip sliced upward through the air in Onrai's direction to unleash a wave of Light and concussive force; it quickly pivoted and was brought back down again with similar effect at a slight diagonal angle before it'd quickly rise in an effort to sever the tendril that grappled with the other blade.

If Onrai dodged it, Runi had fought to align the two of them amidst the chaos so the Light and power of the Manda might strike other power players on the field. There were others that fought on this plane, and Runi had not forgotten them even confronted with a person opponent. They had piled onto this colossal ruin of hatred and death along side other brothers and sisters of the galaxy to put an end to the dogged pursuit of annihilation by the Maw. Much as the Mandokarla taught each battle was not about any one of them, this battlefield in this war was not just about them, and Runi would gladly bisect as many foes as she could muster -- be it a manifestation of the Maw, or merely one of their overwhelming monstrosities. Every hand, every blade, every blaster would be put into the fire and by sheer will alone would they surmount all odds.



 


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SHATTERPOINT
IDENTITY CRISIS FINALE
Issue #3 w/ Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze Jem Fossk Jem Fossk Ryv Ryv Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis Rurik Fel Rurik Fel


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"I should be a lot more than dead." He remarked with a wry smile and an air of arrogance, the blue bladed lightsaber twirled around in his hand at the mention. He shifted back and forth opposite the heir to the Sith, some newfound confidence from his earlier defeat and all that he overcame since carried him forwards now.

She was bitter, and so was he. To see the one that replaced her, and to see the one that may yet return and replace him. Both had it out for one another, and one was a lot more excuseable in their actions. Jedi and Sith, the battle of frail ideologies and moral sensibilities, yet the former had not permitted such self-serving ideals. Unlike the latter.

His feet shifted into a defensive stance, one slid backwards and the other remained as firm as can be. His blue blade was raised, to sit in a horizontal manner over his own head, both hands held onto it. It was a screech of heat that seared against one another as the two connected, all the force placed on it, and Corin made an attempt to shuffle to his right with gritted teeth, and out from under her to then commence a sideways slash of his saber across her midsection.

She was the key, Dagon said, but maybe it was better to break the key altogether.
The slash wasn't expected. He wasn't suppose to find a way out from under her onslaught, but he did.

Old training kicked in, a force barrier wrapping around her just as Corin's saber made contact. She could feel the heat, the force of his blow throwing her back. She fell hard on the steps, her father's battle reaching her as she spat blood from her mouth. Her blistering glare tore off Corin, alert to the sudden trouble her father had found himself in.

She could see the way his steps faltered as blade after blade descended on him. Just like he had done to her in the training room. She flinched at the stinging memory but stood anyways.

Jem didn't look at the faces of the jedi that had come, she didn't even look back at Corin. Her path had already been laid out for her and survival demanded she follow it. She pulled herself off the granite, scrapped elbows bleeding on her shirt, and hobbled back into the center of the ritual.

The chant fell from her lips, empowering her father with the blood of the sacrifices once again.

Dzworokka yun;
nyâshqûwai, nwiqûwai.
Wotok tsawakmidwanottoi,
yuntok hyarutmidwanottoi

If he died, so did her purpose. No one would take that from her again.
Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze Corin Trenor Corin Trenor Ryv Ryv Rurik Fel Rurik Fel Heinrich Faust Heinrich Faust @i think thats everyone.
 
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Jax Thio Jax Thio | Anneliese Kaohal Anneliese Kaohal

The flurry was over before she could recognize it.

The woman held her staff in a defensive posture, ready to parry any incoming attacks he may attempt to sneak in. Her answer would be part snarl as she responded, how dare he think he can read her so easily.

"You think you could handle my story? You think you can attempt to make amends for millennia of torment?" a sinister laugh escaped her lips, she momentarily let her guard down as it appeared she was fighting something...else.

"NO! The Jedi have forsaken you! They don't need you and have never wanted you!"

The woman screamed in agony, seemingly regaining her composure.

She launched a slower, probing attack on the lone Jedi, keeping her secret to herself...

For now.​
 


"Oh, Fett, once I had favored you."

The ground beneath their feet shuddered, a great wrenching roar piercing the sky as the very earth itself split from deep below. A crack spidered outward directly beneath the Dark Lord, the light of molten magma shining out to chase away the shadows cast by the total eclipse high above. Tython was dying, its celestial body ripped and torn by the thousands of atrocities inflicted upon it every passing second; the Dark Side of the Force was stronger than it had been in many years. It was a miracle that the planet hadn't already collapsed under the weight of so much suffering, broken into a million little pieces by the sheer devastation.

Despite all the chaos, very little of it seemed to affect the hills surrounding the Force-henge and its mythical seeing stone. Whether that was by chance or by design was impossible to discern. Darkness surrounded the Dark Lord of the Sith and His insidious minions, their scurried ascent up the hillside nearing its completion as more and more of the henge's defenders were either cut down or lost heart. The clock was ticking down now, the hand drawing closer to striking the prophesized hour.

Blue charric bolts accompanied the Mandalorian's words, split between the Dark Lord and His winged apprentice. Carnifex didn't even hoist His lightsaber, He merely raised a hand and the bolts slipped to either side of Him to terminate impotently in dirt or stone. All-the-while, the cursed blade yet lingered on the periphery, slowly circling from right to left in a wide, lazy arc, it's blade always pointed at the Mandalorian. But, before it could again strike against the beskar-clad warrior, the blade suddenly plummeted out of the air and pierced the ground. It coincided with the exact moment the Mandalorian flipped on his ND-013, generating a field twenty meters in diameter around him.

The Force, all throughout that field, was rendered inert.

So why then was the Dark Lord still able to push aside the Mandalorian's charric blasts even after it had been activated?

The answer was simple, although the Mandalorian could not have known. Several years ago, the Sith scientists Adrian Vandiir had pioneered a breakthrough. Through the marriage of dark science, Sith magic, and the chaotic properties of the Netherworld of the Force, Vandiir had given life to a small organic symbiote known as an Empyrean Gland. This small organ, when successfully transplanted into a host body, would fuse with the host's existing organic systems and permanently merge with the host. In exchange for nutrients, the gland would emit a nullification field around the host, measuring around a meter in diameter. This nullification field would neutralize the influence of creatures or objects that interfered with the ability to harness and wield the Force.

The Dark Lord of the Sith had been one of the first to undergo surgery to receive this miracle gland, Lord Vandiir himself personally overseeing the operation before his untimely demise. Much to the nature of the Sith, the Dark Lord underwent the procedure without anesthetics.

"In the Epistles of Darth Krayt it is written; death is not an ending, but a passageway to something greater. It is an absolute truth that I have witnessed firsthand. To experience the pain of death and the rapture of rebirth is a privilege afforded to those worthy enough to inherit an eternal legacy." The Dark Lord took a step towards the Mandalorian warrior, still casting aside anything that would come his way. He began to pick up speed, walking, and then running, towards Koda Fett with the locomotive momentum of a lumbering tank. "You will not be gifted the rapture, but I will still educate you on the pain." Chunks of rock rose up from the ten meters around the Dark Lord, flying through the air, but immediately losing the ability to redirect once they left that field around Carnifex. But they all had one shared trajectory, one shared destination.

Koda Fett.



 
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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


"Maybe, maybe not." Jax said quickly advancing on the Sith Lord's position unleashing a volley of randomized attacks aiming for the legs, left arm, right arm, and neck. Yet the Sith Lord parried them effortlessly, standing her ground like a rock against a torrent. The woman was well practiced in Soresu, a rarity amongst the Sith considering their aggressive nature. The Jedi Master leapt over her the woman's head holding out his Lightsaber to try to slice her head in half.

He landed on his feet and immediately began to overwhelm her with a saber swarm of combos. Each jab and thrust meant to pressure her and to probe for any signs of weakness in the defense. Soresu was all about patience and waiting out the opponent but that didn't mean the attacker can do the same thing. "Clearly you don't know me Sith," Jax said calmly. "I doubt you know yourself, you're a wretched soul lashing at everything that irritates you. Yet I do sense doubt within you."

Jax sighed. "Who are you?" Jax asked locking blades with her. "I sense a presence inside of you fighting back. A whisp of once was a great Jedi trying to wade their way out of the dark. There is some good in you Sith."



 
Location: Tython between the warring fleets of the MAW and GA

Faith pulled the panel off to look inside holding in one hand a scanner that would tell her wether there was power or not. Why had the emergency power not kicked in yet was that just another side effect of...of last thing she remembered entering from their jump point headed to Coruscant. She fell asleep and then darkness.

It was hard to remember they must have been thrown from hyperspace but how did they get out here, and exactly where was here again, they needed power.

She could hear just down the hall the others working on the power. What would kick all the power off? Maybe a surge...power surge? The indictor on the scanner she held never moved nothing, no power.

Down they hall they were replacing as many parts as they could as most of them looked scarred from a battle. A snap of a new coupling in place and the emergency lights finally glowed. "Oh excellent"

From this they would have some life support, "Phillip can you tell me where we are now?"

"Yes Mam, I'll try" Whispers were heard she could only imagine what was said. She poked her head out, "Problem?"

"No Mam..just..mobility would be our next task." He didn't want to say to her that finding out where they were wasn't on his priority list but it was the truth.

"I get it but there are other ships out there we can see them..be nice to know who they are, friends or not. Our floating out here isn't exactly safe"

He nodded, "yes..."

Becca spoke up, "I can look, while they work on the engine. You don't need me here I"m just watching" Faith wanted to laugh but there was no humor in this, "that's fine.."

Faith turned away continuing to work the panel while lost in her thoughts. Becca wasn't sure where to begin but she head up to the cockpit to look at the navigation charts.

The ship continued to drift ever closer to the battle, if they didn't figure out what was wrong they'd be in the thick of it without a way to maneuver.

"It could have been a surge, we have to replace everything we can in hopes that we restore power and communication even if it isn't long range." her back to the door she looked over her shoulder, "Do we have the parts?"

"We have most of them I just don't know if it is enough" Faith sighed just then this wasn't going to defeat them they weren't a people they just gave up, "Ok..I can help. Just tell me what to do"

He didn't know what to say, she was his Queen and she was..."Yes Mam, I got a schematic and a box of parts if you are serious"

"Let's do it"
 

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"Back so soon?"

Surea jostled upright. Her cage. Again. The cold, empty space with that same voice speaking from seemingly nowhere. Someone she couldn't see in the Force. Someone a Miraluka was blind to. Fear crept in her heart, but this time she stamped that down. Anger, instead. She clenched a fist, furrowing her brow to at least appear like she was glaring at the source of the voice.

"Enough. Where am I?"

"Death."

What. Surea's fist unclenched as she tried to comprehend what was said. Death? Was she dead then? It all had hurt worse than anything she'd felt before. Did that mean death for her?

".. What?"

"Death. You were here earlier. Didn't you feel it then?"

"I don't.. I didn't die."

"Didn't you?" A bemused chuckle escaped the older voice. Another rustle of cloth. Surea tensed up, scooting away from the source. Putting her effort into at least appearing threatening, even with just one arm.

"Stop speaking in riddles! Why am I here? I was on a ship, an enemy ship. This is.. Because I'm unconscious? Tell me how to wake."

"You don't. Not this time. Not on your own. You're far too weak of a Sith to cheat death through sheer will alone twice."


Too weak? She clenched her fist again before raising her hand. Weak! She wasn't weak! She felt the anger rise. She could still see in the Force, so it was there, right? That meant she could still do something! Lightning arced from her fingertips in a dazzling display, arching towards the voice in the distance. There was another rustle of cloth, and the smell of burning ozone.

And darkness. The lightning she unleashed had been swallowed by something in the empty space. A darkness permeated from it, unnatural. Not alive, or dead. An item? A sword came into view in her minds eye. Wielded by the figure she still couldn't see.

"Paltry light shows won't change that either."

The ships forward cannons continued to rev up. With the other ship not having moved from the earlier barrage of missiles, it instead unleashed a barrage of laser fire to try and burn through what remained of the shield and tear the ship itself apart.

Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri | Amani Serys Amani Serys
 
Faith is the heroism of the intellect.
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“... the Dark cannot claim what the light does not surrender.” ”- C.L. Wilson


[SIDE NOTE- Any communication inside of this style of brackets is to be looked on as COMMS traffic]

Makes you wonder how long they have been planning this.

The sacking of Coruscant. The annihilation of Csilla. The destruction of the Jedi Praxeum on Jakku. Three of countless examples that show inaction. Examples show that sitting back and waiting while a known enemy, a known threat is out there brings more death, more pain, and more loss of life than thought possible. The Ashla Crusade sees this. The layman may wonder why Caltin does not count himself among the crusaders who would use these points of history as well as other pieces of evidence as their mantra to attack the Sith so violently. There is something admirable to that to be sure, and Vanagor does form to this. They act and have the capacity to put fear into the fearmongers, but what is the cost? What makes them so different from the Sith at all? Sure, they may very well “win the war” but then what? Who will be their next target?

Enough about the Ashlan Crusade, they are the subject of another debate. It’s clear that these tunnels were long and deep and this proof is almost maddening. Caltin was charging at a column of droids guarding the relay. This attack held three purposes

  1. The first was to draw the fire on himself rather than the others. Vanagor was Force enhanced natural speed made them no threat to him so that was not a problem as it give other Jedi, Rangers, and troops easy targets.
  2. It opened up “the floor”, They were in what was more or less “closed quarters” and what this move would hopefully do was draw the droids and Sith into what was an Enfilade.
  3. With such “closer quarters” the move was to make all but any attacks that these cultists might employ against them.

Heavenshield showed just how much “The Lion King” that he was as he was ripping through Battledroids like they were the lowest levels of training droids. This view gave the massive Jedi Master pause, all but wishing that he could have “come out of the ice” sooner. They would have been even greater friends than they were now, sharing a bond of “strength and honor”. As he was busy tearing through a third battledroid, Caltin was busy throwing them at each other.

Working on it.

Those snipers were deadly, there was little he could do, even if could pull lightning down here to the tunnel, the troops could fire, but they would be, and are being, picked off. Then the big man took a tactic he employed earlier. Electrical currents and waves flowed from his hand and engulfed a battle droid, it froze and shook violently as the massive Jedi Master closed his eyes for a moment, and then back open they went.

The eye-opening would be the downfall of several of the fold of this unknown enemy (assumed to be associated with the Brotherhood of the Maw of course). Vanagor was connected to the droid through the Force, much like many Jedi have used this tactic in the past. With that, he began to open heavy fire on the entire area, not specifically the Snipers themselves, but all around them. Their spotters, their covers, all of it. The purpose was to shred it all. This was not a tactic that Vanagor chose lightly, He was indirectly killing indiscriminately, but just like before there was absolutely no choice. They were either droids or fanatical loyalists.

Caltin justified nothing, he just fought, as Thurion was correct, they needed to push forward while his highness and the troops worked on and took out the fanatics, the big man used his Conservator to its most capable strengths to cut down and take out one of the relays. The thing was enormous, and not just some kind of tower. It took some time, but the tower was taken down, the next tower came down, and the final. It was not just Vanagor who did so, not just Heavenshield, not the both of them, it was a concerted effort of the entire group.

It was when the presence of explosives was noticed without any kind of obstruction or obstacle. Well, there are those two Scorpenek droids. They were back online, Caltin put them in stasis in his initial charge and it has worn off. Looking to his compatriot as his fellow Jedi and troopers were otherwise engaged, he grinned wryly.

Pick one…

Heavenshield had already chosen though, leaping on top of one and showing an impressive display of his skills. If there were time and this was the time Vanagor would have offered a laugh to go with his grin.

You okay up there, Highness?

The big man cut down the left weapons arm, at least the “weapons” part of it until there was nothing, all the while employing “hit and run” tactics. It was when the droid was relegated to his opposite arm that the massive Jedi Master leaped onto its back as well, cutting away at a compartment on the back and another one behind the head. Slowly he pushed the rotary cannon to the droid’s head as it shot its own CPU to pieces, and with his lightsiaber cut open the controls on the other arm and pointed it at its own body before jumping backward…

.. right into a group of fanatics.

I meant to do that!

They tried to beat him down… tried…it was when he caught a free moment that Caltin could extrapolate the general direction in which it looked like they were either coming or going.

Are we going back to the Temple?

Location: Jedi Temple Ruins

Allies: Coren Starchaser Celeste Rigel Tracyn Ordo Zark San Tekka Cotan Sar'andor Asha Vynea Romi Jade Justice Lesan Asmundr Varobalder | Team Lightside

Enemies: Darth Libertas Scylla AI | Team Darkside

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


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Flooded Plains....



She marched through the drum of thunder, heavy from the rainfall. Her blonde mane had started to shrink due to the exposure, latching on to her bomber jacket, and exposed layers of skin. The latest flash exposed the area ahead, a path littered with broken branches and dug through mud puddles -- how long had the trek been thus far?

Ahead she could see the small flicker of nipping flame, constantly at war with the weather.

She'd just took note of the water level...was she tired or had she realized the levels were struggling here? The water was seemingly being drawn elsewhere...almost like it was in constant oscillation. But...perhaps she imagined it all, it was hard to determine under the storm. Granted it was still near the knee.

Heh - Heaving breathing.

She pressed on.

A tiring trek, she lengthened her stride and swung her legs wide in her steps forward, she came to rest just at the stump of a tree propping herself up as the wreck came into view. Small flames littered the water line, shredded metals pieces had broken off here and there, but there was a clear sign of life...at least not yet.

The shuttle definitely wasn't one of Alliance design, or one she could note off the top, but it wasn't anything she'd seen from the Maw.

Though then she saw movement, a silhouette but still far ahead... Jace Khel

She ignited her saber and held it overhead for added light, a red hue stretching from the center. She wondered forward, "Hey!" she threw her voice as much as she could, "You alright?"

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

Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze | Auteme Auteme (Just in case)

Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor | Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield

 
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THE WARDEN
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | TYTHON | THE SEEING STONE
BATTLEMELD ACTIVE FOR ALL JEDI ON OBJECTIVE III
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Like a nexus, he felt the expanse of Solipsis. Around him, blooms of light. Two shone brighter than the others, only because of Asmundr’s mortal affinity for relationships. The one his former apprentice, Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze the other The Sword of the Jedi, Ryv Ryv . He drew in a deep breath through his corporeal lungs and exhaled out a mist of strength along the connections within the Empyrean. A breathy boost of Light to aid them in their respective journeys.

Elsewhere, the strains continued. The Force was electric with emotion. It searched, searched, stretched and wound its way through the tumultuous reactions to the chaos that was Tython. The chaos that was the Maw.

As the rocks fell around The Seer’s stone, Asmundr steadied himself. The only danger that the shards of the moon brought to those planetside was a result of physics, not spiritual power. These were fragments of Ashla’s moon, a sphere of Light.

It was ironic, how quickly a beacon could turn into a weapon. There was further nuance still acknowledging the further reality that this was a moon of the light sent to war against The Jedi.

All around, Asmundr could feel Jedi choosing to shield themselves from the debris. Keeping the stones hanging and denying impact.


"Ashla's Gift..."

A smile etched its way through the crack in his lips.

Zark was miles and miles and miles and miles from Asmundr’s position, but the sentiment struck at the perfect moment. It was important enough to amplify back out to all the Jedi struggling against the destruction of the moon.

All those who shared a meld with the master would hear a suggestion somewhere in the canyons of their collective battle-focused minds: This is LIGHT. THIS IS ASHLA. Use it to your advantage.

Another part of Asmundr’s consciousness shifted, fractioning from the individuals spread throughout the network and temporarily leaving oversight to Henna and Auteme while he flattened himself out, expanding his breadth, through the spray of fallen light.

Each second that passed obfuscated the future further. Pathways he travelled bloomed out of existence, fading away or erupting in a blinding flash. The more he sought, the more uncertainty rose to meet him. Thread by thread, the tapestry unravelled and while he waxed and weft, he could not repair the futures lost.

His corporeal self grunted as he shifted. His deep connection through years of time together aboard the magnificence that was Prosperity allowed him to tether through to the ship’s hyperintelligent and spiritual centre. At its core, the recipient, Arcanus Sunstrider, listened to the mountain-sized master’s orders.

Prepare to move into position.

On cue, the remaining starfighters — Saber and Green squadron — would be deployed from the ship’s hangars. The remaining Jedi would find their way to the planetside, and healers would seek out the wounded and provide aid where they could. Prosperity, meanwhile, would begin to plot a trajectory that matched its sizeable parallel: Thor Yor.

Stretched so thin, to so many different needs, Asmundr’s brow broke a sweat from the exertion. He felt his mortal shell hum with a growing ache.




SEERS | Henna Ashina Henna Ashina | Auteme Auteme | Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor | Asha Vynea
ALLIES | NJO | GA | Judah Lesan Judah Lesan | Bernard Bernard | Valery Noble Valery Noble | Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor | Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir | Geiseric Geiseric | Ryv Ryv | Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield | Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze | Corin Trenor Corin Trenor | Damsy Callat Damsy Callat | Valery Noble Valery Noble | Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble | Romi Jade Romi Jade
FOES | THE DARKSIDE | BOTM | Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis | Laoth Laoth | Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood | Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert | Jem Fossk Jem Fossk

 

Jace Khel

Guest
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Flooded Plains -:
Romi Jade Romi Jade

Jace rose his forearm to his brow in a futile effort to avoid the constant rainfall, and instead beneath that same arm had been a set of tensed and narrowed features as a result of all the elements that seemed to become harsher and harsher with time. He stared ahead on the distant frame, the one that neared more so with each movement, still unable to find a familiar face on them as the few scattered seconds needed to see where it was he could next stand had not aided him in his endeavour. His own blonde strands stuck to his forehead, their colour shifted into that of an almost muddied brown in the wetness.

"For now," the Jedi called back in an earnest voice. He reared his head over his shoulder, but not before he aimed a thumb towards the downed shuttled behind him; "I left two droids aboard, I need to learn what all this is and make it safe for them to leave. Never even see destroyers of that model before..."

He said as much before he even dared to turn back around, but it was as if he entered a whole new world. "Romi Jade," he muttered softly in bemusement, a small smile tore at the corner of his mouth and his hands fell onto his waist. "Oh, it's good to see you."

Encased in a tube, fed off of, but the duration of it all was lost on Jace. It felt as if both short and forever, and the Jedi leaned into the idea of short. He could not fathom the alternative, even if now he needed to.
 



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THE NEW JEDI ORDER | TYTHON | ASCENDING AKAR KESH
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Grime and dirt pulled at her skin and fabric, as the storm’s wind whirled and splashed around her silhouette as she grappled against gravity.

With each attempt to pull herself up, the more her sabre dug into the surface’s side and jarred downward. For each gained, another was lost. If it weren’t for the katana-like length of her hilt, Ishida’d have nothing to hold on to. Earnestly, her hands scoured for another ledge, or groove, she could use to counterbalance her weight and stabilize her position.

Once she’d realized she was no longer at risk of endless plummeting, and she’d successfully stopped herself, Ishida expanded her focus from her plight. Wide enough to collect the reassurance that Bernard was stable above, and not in immediate danger.

But that sense of safety, in the context of Tython’s rage, was thin. And the diluted pang on her breast suddenly flared out and, white-hot, sharpened its sting. Above the din of the wind and warfare, she could only hear the sound of her heartbeat in her ears, erratic and unnatural.

Her eyes widened, and her grip tightened around her sabre’s hilt. It was an unnatural thud thud thud in her ears because it wasn’t her heartbeat. It wasn’t the hot feeling of her blood pumping. Her chest tightened, wrenching inward painfully half a second before…

"ISHIDAAAAAA!"

The sound of his voice turned her belly to water, and cataclysmic thoughts erupted between her ears. She drew in a sharp breath, the disbelieving shape of the word No like a needle on her tongue. How could it be? It should have been impossible for Laoth to be here. To be anywhere but within Sardun’s keep.

Her heart tightened, a chilling sensation rolling through her spine. Did that mean Michael Sardun Michael Sardun ……was he still alive? She couldn’t imagine a world where he was dead. And the possibility of his death at the hands of he who she’d shown undeserving mercy to sent dread alarms out through her psyche.

Ishida could only exist with the question, unable to seek an answer with doom scaling up the ancient Je’daii temple to seek retribution.

She didn’t need to look down to sense how near he was. How little time she had. She could feel his spidery ascension nearing her all-too-clearly. The closer he drew, the more intense the sensation thrummed from her scar, her end of their connection.

Instead, she looked up at the nose of the teetering speeder.

This is LIGHT. THIS IS ASHLA. Use it to your advantage.

Tremors coursed through her muscles, and her sabre jolted slipped again and she dropped another two inches. She couldn’t hold on much longer. She had to go either down, or up.

She’d tried to go up for several seconds now, but her blade in the crust of Akar Kesh wasn’t buried in a stable way. She couldn’t get enough of a base to kickstart an upward thrust. And down….

…Down would just lead her to him.

To Laoth.

The Devaronian devil who slaughtered soldiers without mercy. The desecrator of Jedha, the necromancer of Selvaris, and stonebreaker of Empress Teta. Corpses, death, and pain were in his wake. Face after face rushed through her mind as she looked over her shoulder at the ascending horror. For a moment, her mind cast back to the soldier’s hand she held as he died, and that face mottled and changed to the dark-haired version of her Master and a breath of despair hopped from her throat.

Her eyes closed, and she centred herself. Calmed her breaths. Steadied her heart. Silenced her thoughts. The scar on her chest ached, her muscles strained to keep her from falling, and her ears were filled with the ominous sound of mechanical whirrs and thuds. When she opened them again, her eyes were sharp. Hesitation was gone. She’d made a decision.

Then she pressed her feet to the wall, kicked off, and dropped.

Down to Laoth.

With the grace of someone plunging into a pencil dive, Ishida cut through the air. Meters were reduced to milliseconds, and her blade never deactivated, fwoOOOOooming loudly in her grip as it cut through the air. Her free hand reached above her, feeling around the dead space in the force that was the speeder, and the beacon that lodged into its nose — Ashla. She willed it to her command, tipping the balance to follow after her.

In an instant, she was on him. He was changed, but she took no time to marvel. Her feet planted on whatever shape of him he could, and she took a blind swing at the surface of her archfoe. It was enough. The surface of her nemesis was enough for her to bend her knees, shift power to her legs, and thrust back upward with such a rush that the Force felt like a rocket at her feet.

By the time Ishida was gripping the edge of the platform again, and heaving herself over the rim, the speeder was likely colliding with the monster she hoped to never see again.



ALLIES | NJO | GA | Bernard Bernard
FOES | BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | Laoth Laoth

 
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To face The Trio was to face an Avalanche in progress.

Blue, Cold Flames and Red Hot Flames froze and seared flesh and armor simultaneously. Maple's telekinetic display with her firearms shredding through multiple bodies with a combination of blasters and slugthrowers.

Darth Xiphos, a proven terror on the Battlefield by this point, sliced ruthlessly into the fanatical Mawite hoardes, feeling their life force leave to fuel Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis .

She didn't care. The man was going to fail. Even if they completely failed to save Tython. Even if they completely failed to destroy the Avatar, he would never be a God. Something would get in the way, feth it up for him at the last moment. She need not be there to witness it. The Force had odd ways of correcting chit.

They had lost a few of the Model 3's, but had killed scores each for everyone lost so far. The Model 2's in the group coordinated fire as they advanced, but the sheer weight of the forces being thrown at them from all sides, trying to flank them, cut them off, some even trying to resort to suicide attacks had begun to to stymie even them.

But the Trio was an Avalanche.

The floors and walls were caked with blood and gibs as they ruthlessly pressed forward.

Darth Phyre frowned as Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha , against all odds, managed to slip out of her grasp. A moments distraction had done it. Slippery, that one.

But not slippery enough...

As he had fled her, Phyre had managed to slip a specialized curse through his barrier. One that was, even now, slowly starting to affect his brain, turn it into a conduit for Force Slow. It would create a radial effect that would slowly spread out from his brain to affect multiple decks if it was successful, slowing the reactions of everyone around him.

In a pitched battle, the slowed reaction times of hundreds, potentially thousands of vital crew members, this would be fatal.

But even if it didn't work, Phyre still had his measure.

Being the master of a single kick, made him only a one trick pony. And no self respecting Dark Master in history was ever the master of just one kick. He was still alive, but she had seen his pathetic life. He was a coward. Terrible when he had the upper hand over someone weaker, but get him cornered and he had nothing else to save him. She had sneered at his turtle method, knowing the next time they met, she would have no distractions like the Annihilation of a planet.

And she would make certain his life ended as it began: a weak little nothing cowering before his betters, hiding from them.

We WILL meet again, Squidling. And I will reduce you once more to that little dog kicked around by his own kind.

She showed him an image from his worst, most fear filled moments of his youth as he fled. A little demonstration of her own use of Memory Walk to distract him from the curse trying to weave itself into his brain even now, turning itself into a booby trap that would try and stop his body from functioning and kill him instantly if he tried to remove it. This one was going to be fun to break...

That image of an Ebruchi being tormented by his own kind was delectable.

That's who you really are. That is who you will die as.

And then she laughed mentally, watching his spirit flee her fully even as she broke a Mawites neck in the real world.

The two Black Knights that had accompanied them, Adam and Burt, were still going strong, their blades deflecting projectiles, working in tandem with their smoke teleport tricks confounding the Mawites, creating illusionary doubles of themselves as they fought brutally through tactical response teams.

"Burt, they make Shark Repellent, right?" Adam asked, stabbing a large Mawite wielding a chain gun repeatedly.

"I believe so, fellow Crime fighter!" Burt responded, pulling up a Motherfether's heart out.

"Well maybe we ought to get to work on developing some sort of Chemical for Tython's fair citizens. Not only would it repel Mawites, but clowns..." Adam posited as he dodged the furious slashes of a Mawite Sith, his armor getting scorched a little before he parried the next slash and disemboweled the Sith before cutting his head off.

"Why Clowns?" Burt asked, breaking be a Mawites neck.

"Because Clowns piss me the $#@+ off..." Adam answered as he sliced a Mawite in half length wise.

"CLOWNS!??" Maple shrieked as she made a Mawite Head explode with a well placed headshot. "WHERE ARE THE CLOWNS?! SHOW ME THE CLOWNS!! SHOW ME!!! SHOOOOWWWW MEEEEEEE!!!"

("Send In The Clowns" Plays OOC)

"Aunt Harte, chill the feth out!" one of the Model 3's exclaimed as he gunned down a few of his own "Everyone hates clowns."

"I don't hate clowns..." Phyre mentioned after she roasted a rival Sith alive with red flames.

"Ha! Only a further sign of your depravity!" Maple insisted as she executed another maw Warrior with a perfectly placed armor piercing round that went right through his dome.

Maple was fething bug eyed under her living armor, which worked overtime to prevent her schizophrenia from overtaking her. It hissed that it loved her, begged her to keep wearing it until it could merge with her at the Molecular Level, which absolutely WOULD happen if she wore it for too long, and other little tidbits of WTF it would whisper into her ear.

They lost four more Model 3 units, blasted apart by concentrated fire. They lost three Model 2's for the first time but the tide of House Io pressed on in their mutual Fanaticism, bent on destroying the Avatar. The Maw had to be dealt a fatal blow here. The Avatar must be destroyed. The will of their Dark Gods must be denied.

Xiphos herself however, even now, questioned once more if it was really worth it to save Tython. The Jedi sure as hell wouldn't appreciate it. She was still a Traitor and Criminal in her eyes, and they in hers. The feud with them had become too personal for her. Part of her had badly wanted to step back and let the Maw end this planet, but a greater part of her wanted to thwart the Maw. Even then, she couldn't decided who she despised more.

The Maw were destined to lose. Destined to collapse. They didn't understand. It didn't matter if you wiped out the birthplace of the Jedi. It didn't matter how much they hurt the Force. Whatever they did back to it, it would return upon them a hundred fold, a thousand fold if necessary.

There would be no rebirth. It was a pipe dream. And even if it was not, they simply hadn't thought it through.

These people were addicted to hurting others at this point. Their very existence was defined by it. By Cruelty, even to each other. They lived to hurt people, to destroy. If they got their new Universe, how would they even function if there was no one to torment? Did they really believe there would just be instant change in themselves? Was someone like The Mongrel The Mongrel , after all the chit he'd done, really just gonna stop wanting to hurt and torment and destroy? Who did these people think they were, they they could wash their hands so easily.

Xiphos knew, for her part, that she'd be utterly bored in a brand new, clean universe. The people who had done these terrible things to this one, even if they got exactly what they wanted, wouldn't be able to let go of the cruelty in themselves. They would not be innocent, even if renewed. The desire to hurt people simply for the sake of it would still be there, and that was something even Gods couldn't purge in a soul. If there was no one innocent left to torment, they'd just turn on each other to slake their appetite for cruelty and death. Their new universe would quickly become an even worse hell than the one they had fought so hard to destroy.

There was no point in escaping this universe, even with all it's problems. And besides, if the cycle was endless, would they complain if some group should rise on the other side and decide that universe needed to end? Would they at last understand how utterly they had been conned? Would they fight to preserve their "reward"? Or would they be good little worshippers of the three Avatars and allow the next universe to be destroyed, when they became the stagnant A-holes that needed wiping out?

It was all these questions that drove Xiphos to despise of the Maw. Who cares if the universe is stagnant? Who cares if the Three Avatars promise was genuine? It's just trading one hell for another, and someone would come along to ruin it eventually. If not a Force User, than something worse.

They would never be masters unanswerable to anyone, no matter the Reality. Something would spoil it. Something always spoiled something like that. They'd have to destroy the next one eventually. And the next. And the next one after that. Their will would break at some point. Might as well break it now and drive it into their thick skulls that they were utterly insane to want what they wanted. That they didn't deserve to be masters of their own fate.

They deserved to die enslaved to this universe. Their Avatars were nothing to The Force. It had the final say in everything. That is why she knew it could not be overwhelmed. Overthrown.

That is why she knew, no matter what happened today, The Maw would eventually fall, their Gods swept aside and forgotten, as had every other pretender that had ever challenged the Throne directly.

She scanned a Mawite's mind, trying to understand what gave them faith in these Dark Gods that compelled these freaks to build a Super Laser, even as she pulled his stomach out and shoved it into his throat.

Even as she stared, gazed upon the fractured mind screaming of War, Death, and Rebirth in its head, Phyre and the others massacring their opponents, she still didn't understand the appeal, and wouldn't have understood it even without The Force.

She had been so bereft of faith in anything but her knife growing up she scorned most forms of Religion. Even though she somewhat favored The Light, she didn't trust it, mainly because she found most of its representatives to be insufferable little chits who had done nothing with their power except constantly fight the Sith Empire. It had been people like Auteme Auteme , Cedric Grayson Cedric Grayson , Ryv Ryv , and Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser that had made her harbor the idea that maybe the Light Side didn't deserve the veneration and respect it got. Maybe it really did deserve to be made to suffer, along with the people who had so selfishly squandered their power to crush an enemy.

Thing is...

...she wanted to be the source of that misery. That punishment.

In her heart of hearts, she was utterly obsessed with punishing the Jedi Order. The Maw were in the way of that. However much she wanted to stop the Maw from destroying The Galaxy, she ultimately still wanted to punish the Jedi for being so callous, so lazy, so inept, that they had allowed the Bryn'adul, then the Maw, to get this strong, and forced everyone around them to try and glue the pieces back together to a burning house.

It was this desire that kept her in a frenzy of killing as she charged forward, swatting aside bolts and projectiles, covered in blood and intestines, stepping over the dead, crushing their corpses to kill more. And still the Maw came.

A whip crack of purple lightning hit explosives on a Mawite belt, causing a massive detonation that took out a large cluster of Maw, sending body parts flying everywhere, and severely damaging the deck plating and surrounding tissue.

The defenders momentarily repulsed, Xiphos looked. Phyre had vanished back into the flesh and Mind of The Amalgam, who was positively giddy at fighting alongside her greatest students, and wished it would 'never' end.

The Amalgam cast a spell, causing strange arcs of lightning to flow over the damaged parts, preventing the area from getting depressurized.

"Ohhh, it's so lovely to be killing alongside you both. I wish I'd packed a picnic basket. It would would have been filled with crushed puppy eyes!"

"Why would we eat that?" Maple asked, reloading her battle rifle.

"Oh, it's not for eating, dear Uri...it's for conferring the blessings of the Unholy Spirit. But I have something just as nice. See, I've been giving it some thought...Ol' Solipsism is using everyone we slaughter to channel his power right? Well, if it can work all the way from here, that means they are linked and--"

"Mother..." The Fixer Nuetralizer called out, monitoring sensors and security networks. "I have detected an elite unit deployed by the Final Dawn. An ambush is being set up to flank the team heading to Nutrient Storage. Elite Units tied to Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen .

Xiphos paused.

Sularen. Kicked out of the Ashlan Crusade. Then the GA. Nowhere to go but downhill from there. It was telling the only people left who would have him were the biggest scumbags in the universe after the Bryn'adul.

It was like Amy told her: Everybody gravitates towards their true peer group eventually.

Supposedly, he believed he was destined to conquer the core worlds. What would the point be if Solipsis actually succeeded in rewriting the universe here? Just getting the last laugh? He fought for an empty reward if that was the case. A man with an ego that huge would be miserable in the next universe if there was one. Who'd be left to conquer and destroy with a big scary fleet? Who'd be left to be afraid of him? Who would bother obeying him?

He was just a Kath Hound chasing Landspeeders: He wouldn't even know what to do with one if he caught it. (Madness is like Gravity: 700 XP)

Still, that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. He was, after all, one of the most vile war criminals in Galactic History. Arguably up there with Tarkin. They'd sing ballads of whoever finally dropped him. But his end would come another time. Now it was time to deal with his minions.

My children, take heed. Powerful Warriors are laying an ambush up ahead she called out with her technopathy.

"Elite Soldiers are attempting flanking maneuvers..." The Fixer said, having wirelessly sliced the local network, before shutting the blast doors on the routes they were taking towards the team from the sides and behind, redirecting power flow momentarily to overload and destroy the circuitry that would allow them to open again. If the Hand of Judgement wanted to get them in a pincer move, they would have to blast the doors open to reach them, and the Fixer had made sure to shut the blast doors to the next two sections ahead of those troops in every direction, while leaving the route that Joseph Torson Joseph Torson was using undisturbed.

Xiphos sensed more hostiles approaching. WAY more.

"Amy, do something about these corpses..." Xiphos ordered.

"Zombie time? Slow or fast?" Amy asked playfully, dead purple eyes fixed with a mania in them on Xiphos's silvery armor.

"Wait, what were you going to do before?" Maple asked.

The Amalgam glanced at her with an equally playful gaze and Maple unconsciously took a step backwards. She hated it when Amy smiled like that.

"Not enough dead yet...but for now, I can whip up something quick."

The Amalgam whispered unholy things that made Maple, Xiphos, Adam and Burt cover their ears.

The mangled corpses of the dead began to rise up...and then squish and converge together, torn muscles and skin and armor knitting together to make three giant zombie golems that plodded forward, looking utterly horrible and letting out unnatural screams as they plodded forward into a hail of fire from fast approaching Mawites.

"Holy B-Movie Horror, Adam!" Burt exclaimed.

"I think I've found something I hate more than those fething clowns, trusted partner in crime fighting..." Adam said, who seemingly could speak only in Ham and Cheese.

"What's that?" Burt asked, watching one of the Zombie golems rip a terrified Sith Lord apart.

"Not having put any skill points into necromancy."

"Oh come now, you invested in Illusion, One Handed and Heavy Armor, you're doing fantastic..." The Amalgam encouraged as the Golems took massive amounts of fire, but giving them a bit of a breather.

"Someone really needs to talk to the Narrator about the fething Skyrim jokes..." Maple muttered as she rushed forward.

(Dovahkiin Theme Plays)

Maple looked up at nothing in particular.

"Feth You." she said to the Narrator.

"I used to mock the Narrator like you did. Then I took a Darth Phyre to my subconscious."

"What in the absolute mother feth are you talking about?" A Model 2 asked, not comprehending.

"Barry, sweetie, don't worry about it. They do this all the damn time." Xiphos grunted before charging ahead with the others.

Meanwhile...

The team heading to the Nutrient storage had gotten the warning, but a tad late to try and change course. The Model 3 units, immediately deducing that they were the most expendable, had volunteered to go up front, knowing it was a fire zone. A few Chaplains and Kevin the Black Knight were immediately behind them. The Model 1 units that had accompanied them slowly, carefully, wirelessly sliced the circuits controlling power flow in this area.

They immediately came under fire, and Kevin conjured illusory doppelgangers as they Advanced, trying to confuse their aim, but some Model 3's took the hit, three getting their head blasted off and a Chaplain got half her head blasted off and fell backward. But in those precious moments the rockets and grenades were hurled at them the other Nuetralizers knew Torson had made a suicidal move using such powerful explosives.

The chaplains used their built in Tractor/Presser Organs to catch and divert the rockets and some of the grenades to the immediate side of the ones who had launched them even as more of the Model 3 units sustained heavy damage to their chassis, others expertly dodging heavy fire and returning it with their deadly Laser Cannons , The Model 1 units that had come with them providing support via their lethal Assault Radiation Blasters, others concentrating their fire on where the rockets and grenades would impact on the wall.

The blast was incredibly powerful being so close to the ones that had launched it. Rockets? Seriously? In this enclosed space?

It blew a massive hole into open space, decompression happening immediately.

The Nuetralizers didn't need an atmosphere to survive, and each had their own cute way of avoiding getting sucked into space, The Chaplains hurled themselves against their brothers, driving them backward via their repulsor organs, while also using the tractor organs to catch more and pull them away from the blast hole. Torson and his men were still flesh and blood. Even if their suits were sealed against vacuum, the Nuetralizers had diverted the rockets and grenades to impact very close to the ambushers. The blast happening so close to the super soldiers had hopefully killed many of them already, and if not, well, that was what the guns were for.

The Model 2's, built much more solidly and resisting getting sucked out the best, calmly laid heavy sweeping fire with all onboard weapons, such as their shoulder mounted charrics cannons. A blistering, apocalyptic level of volley fire in the direction of the initial ambush as well as the hole, trying to make it bigger so it could hopefully have a greater chance of sucking the enemy out...

Meanwhile.

The Rhand Class Battle Cruisers were still directly above the Fatalis, directing point blank fire from all their weapons at its hull, even while under heavy attack from enemy Starfighters. More than a few lost their main electromagnetic cannons, and one had already had all it's solar Ionization Cannons. But the Energy Torpedo Launchers were still going strong, relentlessly sailing towards the hull.

But the Leviathan of Danuta had been buying a moment, firing on that engine.

The Leviathan had been built to bring the fight to SSD class vessels, and the weapon it had ready as it repositioned itself, the other vessels with it pulling back, was a terrible one indeed.

It was a Battle Cruiser Grade Scythe Weapon

One that had been built for such terrible power even SSD ships were under severe threat.

"Fire." Hadrian ordered.

Six destructive waves of energy lashed out from the ship.

They would converge on the very middle of it's engines creating a hopefully massive series of detonations powerful enough to finally, seriously outright damage the Maw Vessel and hopefully cause its Faith to waver...

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

  • Ingrid continues to speaking with Zach.
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"I envy you." she told him as she smiled gently at him, she was honest even now.

She did not feel pity for him; she did not underestimate the man because she still thought like those who usually have a short life. She meant, he's probably planning for the longer term and thinking differently. But Ingrid often had a hard time with this. She knew she wouldn't live for eternity, yet she thought more like she had that much time. The long-term side effects of the Netherworld, where time was irrelevant.

For Ingrid, Zach was like one who still enjoyed mortal existence and its benefits. He loved to do things that "average" people did. Such were, among other things, war and fighting; at least in the woman's eyes. As for the red-haired woman, there were far fewer things she enjoyed in Realspace. Zachariel was one of them, one of the few things, or just one of the few people, that still brought joy to her.

She often missed the life that Tacitus took from her, and then that Onrai took from her again. Every single thing she had to do to keep her people alive and prospered took her own humanity. Thanks to her own shape-shifting ability, she looked like she once was, still human. But inside she was no more. But she had seen it all in the man, despite his long life. And she envied this infinitely, she saw it not as a negative, but as something to be appreciated.

"I feel like they stake one's all upon a single cast. If Maw doesn’t win here, the invasion and advancement are likely to crack and stop. If they win, that is another matter." she said calmly, as if the planet just didn't want to fall apart around them.

The Empress didn't know if Zach would see the ultimate consequences or if he was willing to pay the price. Ingrid, maybe it would have been even sad if something had happened to the man. Of course, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t kill him if it was inevitable. She would even kill Tubrok, even though she knew she wouldn't survive it anymore. She was still mourning Adrian, and her other husband died more than three hundred years, to her, and Tubrok was always closer to her than the Sith Lord.

"Yes, I have no doubt about that!" she agreed with the man that the end of the events would be memorable.

One way or another, but it will be. That could be known the moment these events first turned in the Dark Voice's mind about wanting to do something here. She looked up at her lover's helmet again to look into his eyes.

"And if you even win… I know you enjoy doing it. But when do you want to start breaking circles? Break them to achieve what we both want. I am not talking about chaos, ruling over the weak. You know how I mean…" she breathed. "You haven't forgotten the final goal, have you?"

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