Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Annihilation Shatterpoint | BotM Annihilation of GA Held Tython

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

  • Ingrid continues to speaking with Zach.
  • Ingrid senses Eina's death too.
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"It is possible!" she told him.

She smiled gently, tired. She doesn’t often show this side of her to others. But she was a soldier, her family had been soldiers for millennia, and in her blood, she sacrificed herself for the affairs of others, if necessary. She was very different from her predecessor. Today, she already saw that Tacitus was a tyrant. Ingrid has always been different…

Geiseric's death wasn't really important to her. She felt more about it because of that, she knew how Eina would feel about it. She knew from her own example. The woman had no idea that Gei and Eina's dyad hadn't broken and hadn't shattered with the man's death, nor that it hadn't hurt her daughter. However, she felt the pain in Eina when her daughter said goodbye. She remembered the ball when the crusader left her, how much it had crushed the girl, and she could only deduce from that.

The next, however, ripped through her soul in severe pain.

It feels similar to when Adrian died, only weaker than that. There was still a weak bond between mother and daughters, as Eina was born from the souls of Ingrid and Adrian, literally. She pressed both hands to the middle of her chest. The pain of loss and mourning.

"No!" she groaned, tears ran down her face involuntarily from her eyes. "Eina…!"

The pain is also visible in her eyes and face. Ingrid didn't show any feelings too much, so Zach probably knew something serious could have happened. She looked at the man as he spoke. The red-haired woman was a little surprised at the reaction, not really expecting anything like it from him. I mean, ever since she knew Zach, the man had always been left cold by emotional things and only laughed at the deaths of others. But now it was something else. It was completely different than before.

As the man stepped closer, Ingrid put her hand gratefully on his arm. The gen'dai didn't have to say anything now, Zach's movement and body language meant a lot to the woman. More than she thought and it was much more than she could ever hope from her lover.

"Thank you! Then at least let me go to the body of my daughter and son-in-law to get them out of this place, please!" her voice was hoarse, maybe even it was a beseech.

After all, for Ingrid, the family was the most important thing after the Empire, and she didn't know there were no bodies left…

"I no longer care about the ritual… nor Solipsis." she was still honest. "I just don’t want my daughter’s body to stay here in this place."


//OOC: I'll mention Gei and Eina's return in my next post.//
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THE NEW JEDI ORDER | TYTHON | ASCENDING AKAR KESH
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Layers of metal swallowed the glow of her blade. Her grip firmly wrenched into the satisfying depth of Laoth’s rebuilt chest. Whatever strips of flesh that intermingled with alloy burned and bubbled, smoking and glowing orange around the ring she bore into him.

His response to her stab rivalled the calm, placid, unbothered reaction her master had exhibited on Selvaris. Until Ishida felt him twist. The movement fed through the lifestone of her Kyber, flaring a warning that tingled through her fingers through to the nape of her neck. But the next move was entirely unpredictable, and with the oscillations that rippled between truth and imagination, the plausibility of what happened next evaded her completely.

Swiftly, unthinkingly, the demon cut his teeth on the edge of her blade, chomped down, and caught the vulnerabilities of its angle perfectly between his bite. Ishida felt the metal erupt into silver dust, and the sword became weightless in her grasp. It fell from her hands, uselessly floating into the storm’s current and shimmering in the lightning strikes that flashed all around the tower they tussled on.

Breathless with shock, her disbelieving gasp shaped like ‘No’ never found tailored sound to suit her shock. It turned into a grunt instead, unshapely and crude, when a telekinetic force thrust her back from their locked position.

In the split of a heartbeat, Laoth blurred. His machine-born speed and agility, coupled with unnatural strength eliminated the space between them instantly and he bore his might down on the space where she’d been. Ishida, unrecovered from surprise, did not retaliate fully. She dodged, and only with the time she bought for herself, did she find the ability to flash her blade through the air back at him.

His upgrades made him faster than before. His lumbering slaughter that relied on strength alone was sharper now, and he recovered quickly to her evasive maneuvers. When gravity pulled at her heels, and he rammed down on her, she had to give in. Roll, and get back up. Her flesh stung, opening up to let blood run. Muscle severed, and she distantly felt the pain through her focus.

Focus that kept her alive when the air atomized with darkness and incinerated the stone she’d stood upon. She found her footing on a slant of Akar Kesh, used it to gain more height, and returned his overhead maneuvers with her own in a flurry of movements that couldn’t easily be tracked. But he did. They met each other through footwork and strikes. Relentlessness met relentlessness, measure for measure, move for move.

He was loud, brutishly revelling in the glorious violence of battle. He grunted, sneered, laughed, hollered, growled. Noise and savagery were as natural to him as silence and grace were to her. In quietness, she could concentrate. She had to. Loath’s strength and size doubled hers, and the effort it took to make him bleed was crucial. What effort didn’t go into incapacitating him, measured into self-preservation. One wrong move, even an accidental bump of bodies, could have her lose her footing. Or, obviously, much worse an outcome than poor footwork or a misplaced gesture.

Perseverance and endurance ran their course. Her sabre barked against his sword, sparking and sizzling against his blade that refused to melt and Ishida’s arms reinforced themselves with borrowed strength, lent by the unnaturally accessible and intense Force.

Her scar from Laoth’s Darkshear thrummed, tightening across her chest and misleading her senses, betraying her thoughts to think her heart was reacting to her enemy’s enticement. Newfound injuries shot rhythmic pulses of pain through her nervous system, confounding her further. The sources of each sting couldn’t be tracked in the overwhelmedness of the now. Her body was on fire.

Then, he spoke again. His words unwound the coils that strengthened her muscles. He appealed to the desires of her childhood — legacy, strength, conquering — and the dreams of her future — unbound ability, impact, protection.

At first, she had nothing to say. And he felt it, he pressed on. Promising more and more benefits to their union, forcing his weight down on her with bionic strength and strong rationale.

Tython was burning.

Henna Ashina Henna Ashina ’s Stav Tesh template was burning. That’s what she was fighting for! Preservation! Safety!

"We transformed desolation to warmth. We ensured the lessons of our past wouldn't be lost."

She went to argue, but retaliation struggled and failed on her lips. Washed away in the rain.

Paradise and apocalypse both danced around the edges of his promise. He appealed to the violence she’d been raised by. She felt a cultivated cruelty roll inside of her, the churning of her upbringing. It turned, feathery and graceful. Its malignity knew its place, it was quiet most of the time, but the welcoming words of Laoth’s promise for her potential with their union warmed the deep-seated enmity and selfishness Genichiro Ashina had instilled in his offspring.

Hallucination took effect, and Ishida found herself trapped in one of the fissures between Akar Kesh and a world she did not know. Her existence, her vision, flickered between what was, and what could be. A world that danced between the droplets of crimson that soaked her skin and the brilliant, blinding shine of her lightsabre. Against the white of her blade, ash and blood sizzled, and her silver gaze glossed.

A garden of red and black agonies sprawled ahead of her, planted by hands covered in the same stains that bathed her now. A voice, one that belonged to no one, and everyone she ever knew all at once, whispered at the back of her mind while silhouettes walked betwixt the petals of the unknown. Thorns and husks hummed at their feet.

Washed in the blood of war, the Sterling Angel is crowned anew by the devil-cybernetic, called to quench the Galactic Flames and put down the chaos that reigns in its heart.

Another voice, more identifiable, joined the chorus of encouragement and bled into the modulations of the invisible. Her brother’s voice repeated his jeering from Coruscant, stepping through the roses and kneeling only when her bloodied self in the lightsabre was crowned.

"I'm on the only side worthy of an Ashina,"

"An Ashina should be remembered. You think the titles Undefeated and the Invincible come with fighting alongside the many?"

Objection remained trapped behind her teeth. Somehow unable to articulate where her heart lay. He pulled so many strings that were dear to her, plucking them with a conviction that wooed and hypnotized. It was almost understanding, somehow, as if he knew her innermost desires for the success of her heirdom over Ashina. Wishes and wants that her own brother, the original heir before his exile, could not share.

I do not share your yearning nor your optimism for the mending of our family. Ashina is broken.

A larger shape took over the apparition, the unmistakable silhouette of her father. His voice was deep and resounding, unflinchingly cruel. My heart has no home for cowards.

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And, as if he were standing there alongside herself and Laoth, she heard his bitter laugh vibrate through the sizzle of her sabre. A formidable enemy who can pose a threat to my life…I would welcome that man as a dear friend.

A tremble rolled through her white knuckled grip.

In unison, they whispered once more: "Washed in the blood of war, the Sterling Angel is crowned anew by the devil-cybernetic, called to quench the Galactic Flames and put down the chaos that reigns in its heart."

The second time, something behind her ribs shifted.

The Dark which the Ashina Legacy occupies.

Because the road your father walks is the Dark Side. Rule with power and fear, hate everything which is weak, and destroy whatever stands in your path without mercy. These principles are ones the Sith adhere to.

Ishida grimaced. That which had become unwound tightened with a new breath, reinvigorated by the pull of her heart.

Reality found its way back to her consciousness from the supernova-like heat against her face.

Henna’s temple may have been burning, but they’d restored it once. They could do it again. Make it a safe place for Ishida’s future nieces and nephews to train. For her family to rebuild and create a new legacy. A proper one. A different one, free from the bloodstained history of her father, and her father’s father. One that she could define and influence.

One that wasn’t misguided in the audacity that she had the strength to do it alone, or the selfishness to sacrifice others for her own desires.

Ishida Ashina was not like Michael Sardun Michael Sardun . She was not detached from her conviction. She was close to it, intimately bound to that which drove her duty.

Her mouth stung with refute.

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“I am nothing like you..”
The words boiled on her tongue and seethed out in a cynical snarl. Abhorrance moved her to spit, unable to find words that would adequately translate the fullness of her disgust. One hand tore from her two-handed grip, bridging the temporary imbalance of strength with a firm press against the edge of his blade.

She glared at him with eyes that saw more than the machine that wielded the prototyped sword. With a vision that was sharpened by the moonrock of Ashla that lay around her feet. The connection to The Force was potent here, burning through her veins.

The gaps in the invincibility of his former body had been shed. This body was new, ripe with undiscovered weaknesses. She did not know it, she could not readily exploit it.

But she knew swords. Even if their build was nascent. She knew how to sharpen their edges, how their weight transferred within the wielder's grip, and the way they cut through air, flesh, and bone. Their strengths.

Their weaknesses.

She flexed her fingers against the edge of the blade, feeling its bite into the tips of her fingers before it erupted into a shower of metal. A shower that never touched the ground. The same hand that shattered his blade opened wide, and an invisible blast bellowed from her palm. Sharp shards redirected to their former wielder's face and neck, and the rest of him was thrust impossibly fast backward and into the mountainside.

The stones embraced him, folding around his impact while Ishida’s fist clenched to encourage another forceful push against her foe to burrow him deeper still.

“How would it work. Who would we conquer, Laoth? All I have seen you hurt and kill are my allies. You use darkness to murder.

I can never be a part of that.”




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

 
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Slightly Paranoid Apprentice
ALLIES: Percival Io Percival Io Esmeralda Io Esmeralda Io Laertia Io Laertia Io
ENEMIES: Joseph Torson Joseph Torson

The Xiphos who laughs filled her in on the plan, the draconic warrior nodding and understanding this completely as a devilish grin spread on her helmet. Looking down at the warhead, she got on one knee as they were transported to the realm of the brain demon.

Draco silently stared up at this demon, locking eyes with it, or… what should be eyes and waited for it to speak first

"Like the deal I made with your previous comrades, you will owe me in the future"

Draco got slightly snappy with her, barking out
"I will not be someone's slave again."

"Enslavement is not your future, Draco, all I ask of you to do is walk the path of the dark side. Forget the light, when the time comes"

This was interesting… when the time comes… sounds good! And easily escapable.
"Deal."

"Gooooooood. Laertia Io Laertia Io informed me of your plans, is the device armed?"

Draco looked down at the warhead once more, realizing she forgot to change its timer, and silently cursed herself as she lowered that analog timer down to 10 seconds with her key, and was counting fast!

"YES! OPEN THE PORTAL!!!"

9… the brain demon recoiled back and began chanting 8… 7… 6… the chanting finished and a portal opened not 10 feet from the Draconic warrior, of course the surprise would have her stumble slightly 5… she flung it into that black void, hoping her aim was true and the portals even more reliable 4… and it was.

A black portal opened into the Nutrient Storage of the Avatar of War, and with it a nuclear device, it's radiation signature unique amongst pieces of the super weapon, and it's timer analog instead of digital, meaning it moved like clockwork, and with the deadman's switch inside, could not be forcefully disabled. 4 seconds left on the clock… which God shall one pray to?

The Chaplain he had somehow flung into the laser doors halted right before impact, utilizing the gravity well inside her chest to halt her progress and float back to the ground. Noticing how they could fly as well, those dark portals opened overhead of these supercommandos and Agent Torson, pitch black tentacles writhing through them and swooping and attempting to slam into his men, attempting to send them back to the ground with the hordes of the undead and the neutralizers, who opened fire and angrily fought viciously and calculated, blaster fire and energy blades combined with the claws and teeth of the undead.

With the nuke in there, of course the Neutralizers inside there needed to be evacuated, so Draco briefly stepped out of a portal, glaring down Torson and his supercommandos before pulling the Neutralizers to her and their own device into the portal and back into the brain demon's dimension, after which she said

"Welcome to the party~"

SUMMARY:
Nuclear Warhead inside the Nutrient Storage with a 4 second timer
Tentacles are overhead of the super commandos and Agent Torson, slapping them into the ground where they're surrounded by the undead
Nuetralizers evacuated before detonation
 
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The Temple Ruins
Location: Tython, Jedi Temple Ruins / Flooded Plains
Tags: Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka | Laertia Io Laertia Io

  • TEMPLE RUINS
    • The light of Ashla spreads over the field, holding back some of the darkness and unreality
    • Kovach is enraged by the loss of his runes
    • Kovach swings at Zark again, and fires his mounted disruptor pistols at him
  • FLOODED PLAINS
    • Onas tries to follow up her defiant act of slightly damaging the charges
    • She is killed by Ted en route

Temple Ruins ("Kraken Ruins")
Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka
As his mighty blow drove the Jedi to his knees, Kovach let out a howl of savage glee. The edge of his dread blade was so, so close to his foe's flesh now, only barely held at bay. Surely one more strike would be enough to finish the sorcerer-knight, to send the crackling weapon down through his neck and take his bearded head. The Scav King would display that head prominently among the other skulls that adorned his battleframe, for a Jedi would be by far his greatest kill to date. And that was not the end of the good news.

New signals were coming up from the south, the result of an operation so secret that the Scar Hound strike force had known nothing of it. Kovach had no idea where this great Bloodsworn army, far larger than the honor guard at the base of Akar Kesh, had come from. He knew only that he was glad for it. The warriors he'd fought beside had given their lives to do all the damage they could to the enemy in this valley, but they had never been able to push through it. They'd never known that they were only meant as a diversion.

They had drawn the foe out of position...

... and now Kaleth was vulnerable.

That meant little for him personally, of course. His forces were all but spent, and even if they could pursue the Alliance forces hastily falling back to secure the ancient city, they would probably make little difference in that fight. They had given their lives here, offered up the energy of their very souls to empower the Dark Voice. No doubt Kovach would as well, even if he slew this Jedi, for he was old and wise enough to know that slaying one did not mean he could slay another. There would be no evacuation. He would meet his end here.

Which was why San Tekka's next act enraged him.

Kovach watched in stunned horror as the Jedi lashed out with a wave of light... and the bloody runes upon his flesh and armor washed away, evaporating into dust on the howling wind. There was a surge of light across the battlefield now, an intervention of Ashla, and the Scav King's foe held a piece of the wounded moon to focus his power. Though strange and unearthly currents still plagued the field, sunlight broke through the black and crimson clouds, a reminder to the defenders that all was not yet lost... and a blow to the Mawites.

"Blasphemy!" Kovach cried, outraged by the Jedi's desecration of the gifts wrought upon him by the Heathen Priests. Would this act by his enemy deny him entry to paradise? His only hope was to slay the defiler and use his blood to recreate the lost runes. Hoping that his foe was still weary of body even if his spirit was growing stronger again, the Scav King loosed another two-handed swing of his dread blade, trying to smash through San Tekka's guard. At the same time, the trio of disruptor pistols attached to his armor lashed out.

Hopefully the Jedi could not parry and evade them all at once.

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Flooded Plains / Crashed Star Destroyer
Laertia Io Laertia Io | Draco Miles Draco Miles
Onas's volley of blaster shots slapped against the colossal charges, damaging some of the mechanisms, and she let out a breath - and, for the first time in her life, a little prayer. She hadn't managed to detonate them - her scavenged blaster wasn't powerful enough to pierce their heavy outer shell - but she did seem to have at least slowed and inconvenienced their wielder. Would that be enough to say she'd died a worthy death, striking one last blow against the enemy? She wasn't sure. She hadn't listened to the sermons.

Better keep trying, just in case.

Onas had been in firefights often enough to know that what she'd just done would bring her enemies down on her. Firing her blaster had given away her position, and now there would be a reprisal, probably far more than she could handle alone. She couldn't expect the Avatars to intervene twice, so she was almost certainly on her own against this army of sorcerer-gods, unstoppable bio-machines, and invincible starships. The rest of her life would almost certainly be measured in seconds, or in minutes at the most.

Maybe she should've stayed on Shor.

Too late for that now.

At the moment Ted's explosive bullets ripped through her head, Onas Korv was wondering if there was any chance her borrowed warblade, a simple length of forged durasteel, would stand up to an energy sword. Her last thoughts had been an irrelevant question, as it turned out. They came to abrupt end before she even had time to realize she was being shot at. She was no almighty teleporting sorceress or organic droid with redundant systems to resist such damage. She died the same way most soldiers did - quickly and randomly.

By the time the first gunshot would have reached her ears, Onas had hit the ground. Fragments of her skull scattered over the trench she'd been running up, spattering the countless other dead that lay there with yet more gore. The crimson runes on her body flared bright white, and the energy of her life force whisked away toward Akar Kesh, leaving behind only another empty husk that had once been a person... and a question. Had her small, final act of defiance been enough for the Avatars to open the gates of paradise for her?

Did the Avatars and their heaven even exist?

Onas either found out, or didn't.

No one will ever know.
 
That light at the end of the tunnel leads to Hell
SECTOR: Tython
ORDERS: Drive out Maw Forces at all costs
WINGMATES: Tags [House Io] | Maple Harte
Tags [Tython Accords] Aculia Voland | Ari Naldax | Artemis Toth | Aximand Sicarus | Mellifluous Magenta | Mith'akis'ormo | Mylo Thorne | Rex Valhoun | Tren Chaar | Vaux Gred Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka
Tags [Enclave] | Balt Vizsla | Romul Saxon | Vemric Keldra | Verin Oldo

TARGETS: Tags [BotM/Final Dawn] Marlon Sularen || Tu'teggacha | Aldo Garrick |Derix Tirall | Akûz the Ravager | Electra-12 The Mongrel The Mongrel

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[Orange] Silver City, [Purple] Celestial City, [Teal] Ethereal, [Green] Divinity,[Red] Bartera

“Sometimes the best defense is a good offense” - Anonymous​

“He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight” - Sun Tzu

“In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.” - Dwight Eisenhower​

“You want to win the fight? Think three steps ahead. You want to win the war? Get them to think that they are three steps ahead.” - Admiral Kam Angellus (Liram’s Ancestor)

Screw this. We have “Drydock” for a reason… contact the other carriers.

Tired of playing these “Cat and Mouse” games, Liram ordered, “The Celestial City” and “The Silver City” to commit to a “Micro jump” the moment the Sovereignty Class Heavy fighters reported any type of success in taking out those Wellsprings. The moment that they did, the carriers would jump behind the Final Dawn ships and hit them from behind. When the Maw fleets would finally adjust they would learn that they had to do so again for the carriers would Micro Jump again to their port, and again to their aft. The purpose was necessary misdirection. This could come at a cost of being able to jump out of the area, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices. “The Ethereal” was starting to move as well, splitting her targets between the Pincer fleet and the Final Dawn.

It was tragic to see what happened to “The Oceanic” but the silver lining(no pun intended) was that over eighty-five percent of the evacuees had been recovered. Liram would personally make sure of their recognition as well as the posthumous immortalization of the command staff. He would worry about that later though as right now there was a fight to finish. “The Divinity” was reporting success with their methods and ordered to continue, as well as “The Bartera.” As a matter of fact, everyone was more or less ordered to continue their current state.

SCAR teams were forcing their attacks on the engines of TSDs these ships were not going anywhere if the Jackal Pilots had something to say about it. The heavy fighters had the same orders. All of this was intensifying because of one purpose.

He saw the hyper gate open. The deployable turrets were now targeting anything exiting it.

They needed to distract from what the Marines and the Stealths were about to do.

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The Marines not fighting at the Master’s retreat came upon the Kaleth ruins. They came upon the Hypergate and what they saw was a coincidence. The Jedi, Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor , @Zark Sen Tekka, whoever, it didn’t matter as they did not know who to be sure, all they could see was an attack on the Hypergate itself. So Colonel Telaskta immediately called for barrages of tank fire on @The Mongrel’s forces.

They had no idea who was done there, but they could identify Coalition affiliated forces in sensor identifiers alone. The Jedi was doing something upward at that gate which meant that the tanks were lining up to fire on it as well. They did not know if the heavy cannons from A-2319 Tanks, "Haniel" Tank Mk II, and "Mauler" Class Mobile Command Centers but they were damn sure going to try. The boots on the ground, the fighting vehicles, and the attack vehicles would engage those who would attack Jedi Forces.

They were not alone.

The Stealth Fighters of the “Nirvana Battlegroup” were attacking ground and air forces still, only now, the Demon bombers were down there too. This was looking to be their endgame and each of them knew it, but whatever was going on here, the Jedi needed every distraction that they could get. They needed every possible scrap that could help them. Jedi once relied on Clones to help them win a war that they never should have been in in the first place. They didn’t know that at the time but it is irrelevant, they needed people willing to die to help them and got millions of them.

This planet, this region had 12 thousand… not as big a number but it was going to have to do.
 
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E N D_O F_A N_E R A
Showdown over Tython


FINAL DAWN
TYTHON , DEEP CORE
Inside the Avatar of War...

OUTFIT




HAND OF JUDGEMENT - 66TH COMPANY

The Battle of the Nutrient Storage Room was swift and decisive. The Raptor Commandos held a greater technological advantage over their House Io counterparts with stronger armor and cybernetic enhancements that granted them greater agility , quicker reaction times as well as allowing them to make precise shots when firing their weapons against their foes. Eventually within just a few minutes the entire House Io Task Force within the Nutrient Storage Room had been wiped out with only its leader remaining. Kevin as he was called by his fellow Androids had been severely injured having already lost an arm and a leg with half of his face blown off. Now he was dragging himself away from the Nutrient Storage Room most likely trying to seek shelter from the Hand of Judgement. However Torson was having none of it, these House Io Cowards prefered to hide behind their magic and yet posed little threat in direct combat. The very fact that they were feared among regular Final Dawn Soldiers was laughable to Torson but it only proved the effectiveness of the Hand of Judgement.

Torson walked over to the injured Android and proceeded to pick him up confronting the Android face-to-face. “You disgust me” Torson said before throwing Kevin into the Reservoir Tank’s Laser Gate ending the life of the Android and eliminating the last of his foes in the Nutrient Storage Room. Upon killing Kevin, Torson proceeded to contact his superior, Grand Overseer Marlon Sularen to inform him of his progress. “Grand Overseer. It’s Captain Torson, the Nutrient Storage Room is secure, House Io’s forces here have been defeated and their nuke disarmed.” Torson said. “Very good, Captain. Our Intruder Detectors and Internal Security Cameras have confirmed the presence of House Io Forces making their way towards the Reactor which they might try to sabotage. Your orders remain the same, intercept, confront and destroy House Io’s forces, i want those pests disposed of as soon as possible” Sularen said from the otherside of the comms. “It shall be done, Grand Overseer” Torson replied before ending the transmission.

Upon finishing his conversation with Sularen, Torson turned around to face his remaining Raptors. Only 2 had perished during the Battle, the rest remaining relatively intact, a testament to the Raptor’s skills and reputation as the best of the Final Dawn. Nevertheless there were still more House Io Androids out there within the Avatar of War, and they needed to be snuffed out, every last one of them. “Alright men.” Torson said, addressing his men. "We may have secured this sector but there is still alot of work to do. As of now the remaining forces of House Io are converging on the Reactor in one final desperate attempt to destroy the Avatar of War. We will intercept them, confront them and utterly annihilate them as it is our purpose as members of the Hand of Judgement to bring Judgement upon our foes and those who dare defy the Final Dawn.” Torson then took out his electrostaff and raised it in the air. “Now onwards, to victory. GLORY TO THE FINAL DAWN” He shouted. “GLORY TO THE FINAL DAWN” the Raptors shouted in unison as they raised their fists in the air.

Thus, Torson and his Raptors would leave the Nutrient Storage Room, soon joined by the rest of the Retribution Corps. Eventually the group would arrive at a nearby rail-jet station within the Avatar of War that would transport them to a station located near an elevator shaft which in turn would lead directly to the hallway that led straight to the Avatar of War’s Reactor. Victory was at hand, and Torson could feel it. The Hand of Judgement would soon score one of its greatest victories today and their name would be feared by all who have pledged their allegiance to House Io.


Tag [House Io] | Esmeralda Io Esmeralda Io | Percival Io Percival Io

 


Location: Underneath Tython
Objective: Climb to the Surface
Enemies: Jedi and Imperials
Allies: Maw
Objective: 1

Teeth gritted with furious anger as his claw and saber kept rising up closer to the surface. The way the dark side felt across the planet was growing even more unstable. With each plunge of his weapons into the shaky surface, more cracks formed. In the last several minutes alone he was left dangling over the roaring fire. Now the surface was so close to his grasp. Holding tightly, grunting as he moved his arms up and down. Always gaining a bit of ground as his saber plunged into the earth.

What he could feel outside of the crust, the apocalyptic crescendo only seemed to steadily grow worse. The more the focus of the world tipped into darkness, the more he pushed himself to make the climb. By now he was uncertain of how long it had been, be it hours, or minutes. The pain didn’t cease to end, as the corpse was close to falling apart entirely, even bits of bone started to break and fall into the fire.

Barely holding on, his saber deactivated after a time. Now the monster was hoisting himself up the rocks with his own hands. Digging into the dirt now, his charred corpse was covered in muck and dirt. He saw nothing but darkness, tasting bile, blood, and the dirt in his own mouth. Running on what the shadow provided and willpower alone. Soon the heavy soil started to shift, and he could see even more openings into the surface.

On the surface a hand emerged, broken, bloody, covered in dirt. Slowly the ground shifted more until Kyrel in an unrecognizable state emerged. As soon as he crawled his way out of the dirt, he collapsed on the ground. Convulsing on the ground, the darkness on the surface had turned intense. Coughing up blood, he felt his body change. Feeling the burn of Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble Sith blade change his body from the inside.

Soon black liquid started to run out of his eyes, mouth, and nose. His hunger went into overdrive, feeling a miasma of dark energy wrap around him. He clawed the ground in a vain attempt to stop the pain. The energy soon mixing in with his hunger. A wound was being born in this moment, what life remained in the greenery soon died, as his hunger started to drain the life energy from around him. Flowers that had once bloomed had withered and died, his hunger temporarily sated as the convulsions ceased. As the monster rose, so did a new hunger not seen in millennia.
 


The proton bomb struck the mass of energy as it was releasing, causing a wide cascading detonation that rupture the ground beneath them and caused great tectonic upheaval in the surrounding hills. Some energy spheres managed to be let loose before the lot of them were destroyed, but without cognizant direction they fluttered about on random changing trajectories before the molecules holding them together separated, or they slammed into something solid; both resulting in the energy being violently released. Dust and detritus was thrown up into the air, blanketing everything in a thick layer of grainy fog, accompanied by wild discharges of chaotic energy.

Carnifex was lifted by His apprentice, rising up and through the explosive storm cloud as it erupted around them. Though Pellax struggled with her master's bulk, she was nonetheless able to carry Him through the air; albeit with immense struggle. Her actions also removed Him from the epicenter of souls trying to drag Him down into the abyss. Now those same spirits suffered the hunger of Voracitos, devoured en masse for the Corpulent God's pleasure. The Dark Lord did not envy their fate, one that He and Voracitos had condemned countless beings to over the course of a decade or two. Whenever the Sith caused misery and despair, the Corpulent God was there to consume the spirits of the fallen; regardless of what side of the conflict they stood on.

But the Mandalorian warrior was a relentless adversary, never ceasing in their struggle against the Dark Lord. For that, they were commendable, but they would find no accolades bestowed upon them. Instead, they would face the wrath of a Master of the Dark Side. As He was carried aloft by His apprentice, He saw the enemy Mandalorian rushing towards them with weapons burning hot. Before, when faced with such ferocity, the Dark Lord had used His considerable powers in the Force to shield Himself and His apprentice with an energy barrier. Other times He had absorbed the energy with tutaminis, converting the stolen power and using it offensively. But this time, the Dark Lord altered His tactics.

Instead of covering Himself in a shimmering barrier of Force energy, He summoned a bubble of reflective energy around the Mandalorian. Any attack that the Mandalorian levied against the Dark Lord would instead either be redirected back at them or be negated against the barrier's interior surface. The barrier itself was maintained by Carnifex Himself, held together by the sheer force of His titanic willpower. But it would not be the only action He took against His assailant, for as He reached out to encase the Mandalorian in an energy bubble, so too did He reach out at their mechanical mount. Nothing so sophisticated as an energy bubble this time, instead He sought to crush the basilisk with a constricting field of immense pressure; enough to buckle and snap durasteel.


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All the while, the ritual at the Force-henge continued without interruption. Darth Isolda, Eye of the Dark Lord, was immersed in the energy shunted up into the air from the seeing stone. Through her, the twisting webway of the Force was being unveiled. If she was so inclined, she could spend an eternity peering through the numberless pathways of the future. But the Dark Lord had given her clear instructions, and so she set aside her curiosity and began searching for what the Dark Lord desired. People and places flashed in front of her closed eyes, many of them obscured by the mist of prophecy, while others were as clear and solid as if they were standing right in front of her.

She was searching for a place, somewhere that the Dark Lord coveted. She had not been given much to go on, only a vial of the Dark Lord's black blood rested in her hands. Furthermore, she uncorked the vial as the vision grew more intense, releasing the congealed blood, which began to float up and around her. The vision suddenly solidified, coalescing into a clear and distinct shape. Her surroundings morphed into a place that she had never seen, but had read about in legends and from reports written down in the Dark Lord's own scripture. As the vision ended, the seeing stone she was sat upon cracked in half, energy rushing out to knock her and everyone around her to the ground.

As she roused, Darth Pyrrhus' hand upon her shoulder to steady her, she could only mouth one word in a hoarse whisper.

"The Wellspring."



 
Location: Aboard the Avatar of War
POV: Rebecca Hahn, House Io Citizen-Soldier (NPC)
Objective: Wrap up the Avatar of War story

“This is Siren Esmeralda Io, I’m closing in on your squad’s position! Are you the last of your squad?”

"Apparently," Rebecca replied. She avoided dwelling on the deaths of her mates. There would be time to grieve and honor them after all this was over.

“I was separated from my original fireteam, but I have a cloaking device. We can take the reactor together, sister.”

With a nod of acknowledgment, Rebecca headed down the hall.

Despite their stealth suits, evidently the Avatar's surveillance was high-end enough to detect their movements. Mawite soldiers were on the march, headed for the reactor room. Rebecca kept going regardless, picking up explosives and other gear from fallen comrades along the way.

They reached the reactor room just ahead of the Mawites. With most of the fighting concentrated elsewhere in the ship, inside there were only a few engineers and maintenance droids. Rebecca shot at anyone who tried to fight back, then herded the rest toward the door. If the Mawites wanted to reach them, they'd have to blast through their own engineers. Not that she would put friendly fire past them.

"Keep watch," Rebecca ordered Esmeralda. She wasn't sure which of them was of higher rank, but she was already kneeling to install the explosives. A veritable cocktail of grenades, plastic explosives, incendiary chemicals, and even good old fashioned dynamite was jerry-rigged to the reactor, set to explode the moment she flicked the detonator switch.

When it was done, Rebecca heard pounding boots right outside the door. She seriously contemplated triggering the detonator now and making this a suicide mission. Her odds of survival were already low, but she had much to live for. Her son Thel was barely even a year old.

Glancing at Esmeralda, she wondered if she should warn the Echani woman. There was a sliver of a chance she could escape in time. The faintest, thinnest of slivers. "Go now," Rebecca said, making her decision. "I'll take care of this."

 
foip7asI4fJo1ziTvCmgUesUWuAY1gUXmPl2eNm070A1gv-KaKWJoMC-fCosMiJUeyRp5FS0p_mcd3Oe6K9hBAMCvxf36T32Db8b-LJWCViqBCmomJkXlDBjm3FAIQu-iE619KuZ1E9iM5s00A
Location: Avatar of War
Objective: Finish the Mission
Allies: HI ( Percival Io Percival Io )
Frenemies: ME
Enemies: BotM ( Joseph Torson Joseph Torson )
Direct Engagement: Joseph Torson Joseph Torson

Esmeralda moved quickly, with as much stealth as speed would allow, knowing that every moment that she wasted would allow the Mawites more time to converge on the reactor. On such a massive vessel, it went without saying that the boarders faced nigh-impossible odds. As such, it would be best for them to keep moving, taking advantage of the inherent agility that lay in lower numbers and leveraging it to prevent the Mawites from bringing to bear their hordes of glory-hungry Aspirants and bloodthirsty Buccaneers.

Before long, the two women reached the reactor, penetrating the area with all the speed and violence that was necessary. A few of the engineers and technicians working the reactor’s systems did not care to take orders from a woman who stood more than a full foot below them in stature, compelling Esmeralda to take the necessary actions to ensure their compliance. Nevertheless, the Siren made sure to follow Rebecca’s lead, taking care not to kill too many of the Mawite engineering personnel.

After all, they needed them as living shields.

“Yes, sister.” The Siren answered Rebecca’s order, after arming and concealing the last of her thermal detonators within the reactor’s innards in the hopes that they might prove difficult to locate, before linking them to Rebecca’s detonator switch. Then, the Siren took cover behind a nearby bulkhead. All the while, the engineers and technicians had been forced to remain stationary at strategic locations, in the hopes that they might further obstruct the sight lines of the incoming Mawite defensive force.

Pinning their hopes on friendly fire was a desperate play, especially against an enemy like the Maw. But what more could they leverage?


Glancing at Esmeralda, she wondered if she should warn the Echani woman. There was a sliver of a chance she could escape in time. The faintest, thinnest of slivers. "Go now," Rebecca said, making her decision. "I'll take care of this."

“No.” Esmeralda’s answer was uncompromising, leaving little room for debate. “Plus, if anyone has to stay, it should be me.” She added. Indeed, Rebecca would know why. Like all Sirens, Esmeralda was a vat-grown strand-cast, conditioned and programmed for violence. As such, she had no biological family, meaning that there might be less grief and suffering should she fall in the place of Rebecca. What if this woman had a family? Or worse yet, even a child that she might leave behind?

“We’re both surviving.” She declared, refusing to entertain the prospect of death. “We just need to break out and create some distance. They won’t be able to disarm everything, sister. There's more than explosives rigged to get the job done.” The Echani continued. And yet, knowing that the odds stood against her survival, Esmeralda felt her courage waver, if only for a moment.

“The Mawites put faith in their Avatars, and so we must have faith in our family.” Esmeralda finished, not only for her own benefit, but also for Rebecca’s.


 
"Correction: Where are you going?" The Xiphos Who Laughs asked as she lifted one of the Mawite Sith up and broke his back with the Dark Side. (Your Spirit? Or Your Body?)

"Draco, The Dark Side has shown me a glorious purpose...you are to risk your life! Risk it for the Destruction of The Avatar of War!" The alternate Darth Xiphos proclaimed in Pure Ham. With Cheese. Lots of cheese. Possibly Cheddar.

Vivian, who had finally caught up in the intense, mind melting chaos that was Tython's battlefield, the Io Battle Cruiser partly in flames as it continued to fire it's Torpedoes at the Grounded Destroyer. The whole place was basically a heavy metal cover. Or some scene from 40k. Likely an Exterminatus in progress.

"LAERTIA?!" Vivian called out in shock, feeling the horrid Dark Side Aura.

The Parliament smiled.

"Mother! You're here? You didn't show up to my version of the battle of Tython. Hold...hold on..."

The Parliament teleported a Grenade that was thrown at her into a crowd of Mawites.

"It's so good to see you! The Jedi killed you months ago in my reality!" The Parliament hissed, hugging Vivian. "Don't worry. I slaughtered the entire temple your killers trained at, and had the Padawan suffer death by impaling."

Vivian was so horrified she didn't know how to respond, and didn't speak as The Parliament took her arms away.

"But there is only one way to get there..." The Parliament trailed, hissing unholy words in high Sith, bringing to existence a shimmering Black Portal in front of Draco Miles Draco Miles .

"Laertia, no!" Vivian called out snapping out of her brain freeze. "That portal leads directly to the Brain Demon's realm! She will demand a price to cross where Draco would need to be."

"It is either that, or The Avatar has a far better chance of remaining intact to destroy Tython" The Parliament explained. "I'd go myself but I'm going to open a doorway to something terrible here."

Vivian looked between her and then Draco. To her growing terror, she sensed the truth of The Parliament's words.

Vivian looked at Draco.

"Draco..." Vivian said amidst the chaos, hugging her apprentice.

"Be careful."

Once Draco had taken up the task, The Parliament wished her good luck and teleported back to Percival Io Percival Io , her red blade coming out as she happily fought alongside her son once more, forgetting all the woe in her own universe. She cackled madly as she slaughtered Mawites.

Every Laertia, in every universe, hated The Maw with a passion.

A rocket was launched but before she could teleport it away, it exploded in mid air.

The Parliament's ability to teleport herself and objects was powerful but even she couldn't whisk away all that shrapnel. Especially when a good deal of it was heading for Percival.

All she could do was teleport in front of him to intercept it.

White blood spilled onto the ground, and the Parliament dropped to her knees, dozens of shards buried in her back.

"Percy..." she grunted, coughing up blood. "It's time...to trigger the ritual...your finger? It's taking the place of the circuits for the detonation mechanism...you have to trigger it remotely."

Struggling to stand, The Parliament then finished her enchantments on the three devices. Dark energy swirled around them.

"It's still your flesh...take this..." The Parliament said, handing him a small transmitter...

"I'm going to send these things into the sky now. I'm the only one who can...but the effort will likely prove my end...I love you Percy...I...I did terrible things...terrible things...but I hope it works...maybe...maybe I can rest now. I'll rest in hell..."

The Parliament coughed up more white blood.

"Uri...Amy...Amy..." The Parliament coughed. "I'll see you soon..."

The Parliament screamed as she teleported the Seismic Charges to three separate locations in the battlefield. She used her waning strength to remote detonate two, one over the temple ruins, the other over Akar Kesh.

The final one would have to be detonated by Percival himself, over the Flooded Plains But when he did, it would have the same effect as the others.

The charges had been enchanted with the Dark Side, not to destroy the physical plain, but to damage the immaterial.

Because of Ashla's light, it wasn't as widespread an effect as she would have hoped. But what happened was still potent.

They had detonated close to the various tears in reality over the battlefield...and the cracks they were closest too grew wider

Then shattered...

Black cracks where the blast had been at the center tore open completely.

Hundreds of Brain Demon Avatar's and black tentacles began pouring out of them, descending into the battlefield, the tentacles tearing the cracks wider.

Each of the bizarre Brain Demon Avatar's, resembling a naked, emaciated purple skinned Togrutan woman with no face, were not invincible. A few simple blaster shots could disperse them, or even a good solid whack with a trusty vibro blade could do it.

But there were hundreds pouring out, and big thick tentacles of the Dark Side reaching down to the battle fields they were Detonated over, to try and savagely swipe and drain the life of any enemy they could catch, dozens more tentacles springing from each section of the main tentacles and growing longer and faster, whip like as the Brain Demon Avatars, each armed with Talons on the hands magically capable of slicing even through heavy armor, began to rush all the largest gatherings of warriors, from the Warriors of Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood , to those of The Mongrel The Mongrel , even descending upon the Star Destroyer itself like hungry piranhas, slashing at anything they could to try and tear through and kill as many as possible, the horrible tentacles backing them up, which were slimy like expired ham, and smelled like it. They ignored the members of House Io, focused only on its hated enemies. It's one thing when the average Mawite prays for their gods to reward them.

It's is an entirely different thing to experience an evil entity that had made itself an active patron of a House where it was barely worshipped coming to its aid in what was it's darkest hour yet, as up to forty nine percent of House Ground Forces had been killed.

The Parliament swooned and hit the ground, right as Vivian ran up to it, watching a nightmare play itself out.

"Goodbye Mother..." The Parliament coughed. "Goodbye my sons...I have done all I can. I go to burn now..."

Vivian held the alternate version of of her daughter, and the Xiphos Who Laughs at last died, body bursting into purple flames...
 
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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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The Eye of The Storm, Ashlan Serenity, stretched far and wide. Light shone through the clouds, pausing the tumultuous rage that lashed through the skies for a few precious miles. Asmundr felt it begin, and by the time the benefit of the lover’s death touched the meld on Tython, the whispers of the moment had been amplified to boastful shouts of hope for all the Jedi tethered to the masters around the ancient Seer’s Stone.

Lines between what was real and what was not shimmered in his purview. The ghosts of the past, Mishel Mishel , Kiskla Grayson-Matteo Kiskla Grayson-Matteo Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor 's past, Seto du Couteau Seto du Couteau and others, listened to the call for aid from Auteme. In a time of desperation, all those they had lost were asked to help the living achieve victory. Ghosts from the past came back to protect the future.

Again.

For each victory, there was unmentionable heartache. Loss of friends, to war. Loss of sleep Loss of laughter. Loss of confidence. Loss of control.

All of this, the seer’s asked for once again.

Many losses did not belong to him, but he felt them through the rolling tides of their shared tapestry, all the threads that wove around one another intimately. And through all of these losses, the greatest was that which came from knowledge, and from the deep recognition that he could never un-know what he knew. So many things he wished he’d never learned, never saw, never felt. He had aged with the great weight of this knowledge. It was heavy, carving deep lines in his face, burdensome on his broad shoulders and affecting the very posture he emulated now in his completely immersed meditation.

Knowledge brought benefits too of course. Perspective, a framework in which to fit the events of his life, all their lives –– that is, a lattice of space and time coordinates spanning his existence, back to the earliest memories and ahead, far beyond, to alternate futures. A framework of depths, and conundrums, and interstices, through which Asmundr could peer at any new event in his life with perspective. A lattice of shadows and corners, rolling back into the vanishing point on the horizon of his mind. And all these shadow boxes that leant such perspective to things...well..this lattice gave his life certain darkness.

Ever since he and The Force had attained Oneness on Korriban, it had been omnipresent; adding another dimension to The Seer’s foresight. The dark didn’t hold much substance of course –– only shading to give depth to his understanding, where before it had been thing without dimension.

There were other advantages to knowledge: Rationality, etiquette, choice.

Choice, of them all, was a true double-edged sword.

It was a choice that had been burdened to him. The choice that was required to face the shadows in the corners, the eclipse of the future after a moment of nova flare brilliance.

It was this choice, that caused the physical version of Asmundr to draw in a deep breath. His resounding advice boomed through the link with his seer companions, reiterating his intensity from earlier in the battle. When he’d been less tired. Less aware of the choice he had to make.

Stand firm in your integrity.
Let endurance complete its work.


He exhaled out his decision and felt a looseness push through the tightness that had bound up his muscles. As a first step, he felt that exhale grow in his belly, push through his lungs, and throat, and then finally balloon through his mouth until it floated away on the storm winds. It was careless, consumed by the wind and floating harmlessly. Twisting, tossing, spreading, turning into the natural current and growing more and more impressive until it flattened right out of existence. As if it had never been born from him, and had always been a part of the zephyr that travelled through Tython in all of its rage.

Everything other than that breath fell away. The breath was something that belonged to life, and his life was connected to everything here. The Force kept him bound to every living thing on this planet, between the resurrected, the ghosts, the bodies, the friends, the students — all of them. He felt them all, in the past, the present, and the future. Time and space collided, twisting and braiding around nothing but that exhale.

Reality bent and curved, The Force and his breath remained the only constant between the locations of his endless self. He zeroed in and out, siphoning his psyche to share his thoughts, and the vision of what he saw for the only way to survive the pending power that would ravage Tython, was to give up all the land that they knew was lost already to the carnage of The Maw and provide asylum to their allies:


Endurance’s work is to survive.



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 | Ryv Ryv | Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield | Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze | Corin Trenor Corin Trenor | 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

 
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make your heart proud
SHIELD OF TYTHON
THE SEEING STONE | CIRCLE OF SEERS | SUPPORT
Allies: GA | Asmundr Varobalder Asmundr Varobalder | Auteme Auteme | @NJO Jedi
Enemies: BOTM | OPEN

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Despite the calm Asmundr created above them, Henna could feel the chaos that seethed across the planet. Tython's atmosphere had been given a life of its own. It crackled with the dark workings that the Sith fueled with the Tho Yor. Symbols of balance turned against their legacy. Her heart ached for what her planet had become. The home of the Jedi was a graveyard, haunted and restless. The rage that seethed from the angry wounds of the surface oozed in time with the ritual. Henna's mouth had settled into a firm line as she watched the holoscreen settled next to the seeing stone. Lights flickered and dimmed, entire units overcome by darkness, disconnected from their people, or lost in the epic battle.

There was only one clear choice, from a military standpoint- fall back, or risk it all. The ritual's power grew, ancient drums seeming to rise up from everywhere and nowhere as a darkness as old as time enfolded the planet. There was still a chance that those who had walked before them, hailing from the force itself, harnessed the power to diffuse the time bomb. Yet was the hope enough to risk all the brave hearts of their Order? Doubt plagued the master, threatening to paralyze her.

"One of Clan Ashina's principal wisdoms... I am not certain how to say it in the language we share. The closest I could translate is; Death is Destiny." Although the cryptic aphorism sounded grim, it was the most optimistic of the Ashina virtues. Inosuke did not bother to explain what it meant, that death was the only certainty, and everything in between was the path you carve. Removing the interpretive void would defeat the very purpose of that wisdom.

Death is destiny. The words rang in her ears, a piece of ancient Atristian wisdom passed unto her. Hesitation is defeat. The Ashina's teachings resisted her urge to dwell.

Endurance’s work is to survive.

The seers word echoed the sentiment.

Within the blink of an eye, the landscape in front of her transformed. She was once more standing in front of the ruby kyber chamber, in the vision the force had seen fit to reveal to her weeks before. It had been a constant in dreams and nightmares alike since. Momentarily, Henna thought it another- but there was a presence beside her. A glance sideways revealed not Bernard, but Asmundr. She looked back to the structure, stained with blood- but was it the blood of the planet or the blood of their people?

"We've come to the crossroads, Henna. You must bring them home."

"I can't." There was misplaced anger in her voice. "This is our home. This is our legacy, our past. We cannot let them destroy it."

"And so we won't. But we cannot sacrifice all in the process. The Shatterpoint, Master Sarratt. It is not the past that matters. It is our future. Tython is not our legacy, we are it's. I am doing all I can to protect it- but you must protect them. Trust in me. Trust in the force that has guided us. No matter Tython's fate, we must live to fight another day."

The man had broken his usual serenity to deliver the statement in passion. Henna's eyes were drawn insticitively. He glowed with golden light, a beacon of undeniable faith that called to her. Trust in the force. One could no so easily extinguish hope, no more than they could the light.

Henna was back where she stood in front of the Seeing Stone. It seemed that no time had past, though she still had none to waste with the state of their positions in the field. A tap of her finger brought her comms to life, her words echoing through channels and the meld.

"This is Master Sarratt. GADF is calling for evacuation of the surface. I am advising Jedi do the same. The ritual's peak is imminent. Transports are en route. Master Varoblader is running shields upon Prosperity for those who can get here. If you cannot, seek asylum elsewhere. We must live to fight another day."

There would be anger at her statement, Henna knew. She stepped forward in an attempt to get ahead of it, laying a hand on the seeing stone. It amplified the meld, relaying sentiments that could not be readily translated into words. Every Jedi within the network became more apparent. Strangers and friends, those who walked the surface, had walked it before, and would come after, intertwined. Hope and purpose resonated as Henna conveyed her thoughts. The stone of the world itself spoke, offering it's strength. The boulder was unyielding. It would not give to the convoluted realities the Brotherhood attempted to press on it; it simply stood, persisting, weathering the storm as it had for thousands of years, with the perseverance to hold for a thousand more. The master offered her wisdom as Tython offered its resolve.

-Henna realizes the best tactic is to retreat after sensing the growing power of the ritual, but is filled with doubt
-Asmundr and Henna have a heart to heart within a recall of the shatterpoint they saw before Xa Fel
-Henna is empowered by Asmundrs unshakeable faith
-Henna calls for retreat via comms and meld
-Henna strengthens the meld via the seeing stone and offers resolve to fight the broken realities so the Jedi can make it to safety

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MELD ACTIVE
 
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Location: Tython | Shuttle
Appearance: Link
Outfit: Factory Link
Weapon:
Double-Bladed Lightsaber
Tag: Henna Ashina Henna Ashina Asmundr Varobalder Asmundr Varobalder Auteme Auteme Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor Asha Vynea Bernard Bernard Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor Ryv Ryv Romi Jade Romi Jade Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze Judah Lesan Judah Lesan Corin Trenor Corin Trenor Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka Amani Serys Amani Serys Kai Bamarri Kai Bamarri
Post: #17
Objective: Rally the defenders to safety


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With Kahlil stable and asleep aboard the shuttle, Valery took control again and continued its path along the now largely ruined surface of Tython. The Force felt chaotic, a result of death and despair echoing through its waves from the battle, but the defenders had never lost the spark of hope that kept them fighting until the bitter end, even as reality itself began to crumble around them. Old leaders were no more, ancient history was damaged or destroyed, and many voices were silenced long before it was their time to fade.

But whether Tython survives or not, the future of the Jedi will outlast the destroyed history through those who pick up the torch and carry it forward. From the fires of Tython, new leaders are going to emerge, and as long as they never allow the spark of the Jedi to fade, darkness in the Galaxy will never retain a foothold.

Valery knows what her role is going to be in this future — she had never been able to sit still and do nothing while the very nature of who she is was being threatened. Her destiny has been and will continue to be at the forefront of this war, leading those who survive into a better future for the Galaxy. But that is where her focus was now...


Endurance’s work is to survive.

Through the survival of those fighting against the Maw's hordes, Tython's legacy will never perish, but many are still out there, engaged in their battles or trapped in other dire circumstances. So without any hesitation, Valery's path continued over the field of battle while she listened to the words of another Jedi speaking to all through the Meld.

"This is Master Sarratt. GADF is calling for evacuation of the surface. I am advising Jedi do the same. The ritual's peak is imminent. Transports are en route. Master Varoblader is running shields upon Prosperity for those who can get here. If you cannot, seek asylum elsewhere. We must live to fight another day."

Knowing that many were still trapped and unable to reach safety alone, Valery tapped into the Meld herself and echoed the words from the Jedi Master to call for unity and survival.

"This is Jedi Master Valery Noble, reaching out to anybody in need of help. Give me a sign, and I'll come to your aid. We must unite at the Prosperity, and stand together one more time."



 



Allies: Mandalorian Enclave l Defenders of Tython l Shakka Bralor Shakka Bralor l Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida l Kaz Krayt l Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla l Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt l Varik Awaud Varik Awaud

Not Allies: Attackers of Tython l Marlon Sularen l Derix Tirall l Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr l

Fighting: Surea

Equipment: Beskar'Gam l Crushgaunts l Disruptor Pistol l Beskar Knife l Jetpack l Murder Machine l Combat Stims l Cigar and a lighter l Wrist Mounted Flamethrower l x3 Grenades




It wasn't hard to track her with his eyes- but his eyes were much faster than the blaster. Her skillful dodging, gracefulness and elegant escape- matching only with the close call that he experienced from one of the wild shots she took at him. It went wide- barely.

They didn't have skill with a blaster. He followed her into the room she went in, spying her just in time for her to maneuver slightly ahead of him. Fenn stopped, noticing that she was in fact- a she. Sith, however, were not given mercy based on the merits of birth. They were however, given respect, if even begrudgingly.

He set the heavy repeater down, and withdrew his Beskar knife, and offset him from the doorway, assuming a combative stance, one hand pulled back, the other tightly holding the knife. He advanced on her- giving her a somewhat fair fight. In the same instance, he was sizing her up for the rest of their bout. From her size, to her fingernails, to the shoes she wore.

He beckoned the other Mandalorians away as they approached- the assassin was his, and his alone. And with careful, measured steps, he took the first steps in their deadly dance, the dimming lights making his gray-ish black armor more demonic like in appearance.








 
"Your bedside manner needs work." Amani laughed.

About the last thing she wanted to hear right now was a dissertation on the physics of astronomical bombardment. Especially when reality had degraded beyond scientific reasoning. "I'm really not thinking about the moon right now, Kai." Thinking about anything right now was proving... troublesome. "I'm just…" Eyesight was clouded by dark vignettes. Surroundings became little more than background noise.

This was really going to be it, wasn't it? There was so much left to do. Life seemed to finally be on the upswing. Yet for how much death had scared Amani before, such emotions were far beyond her now.

The singular moment seemed to stretch on for eternity. There were worse places to die, she supposed. Back on her homeworld, defending it until her body could no longer carry on. Maybe not the blaze of glory you see in the holofilms, but that was alright with her. The planet was covered in war. But here, there was a vestige of peace.

She relaxed. Consciousness seemed as if it was being gently led away from her body by an unseen force. "...Huh…" So this is what it felt like. And with that feeling, a final breath escaped her lungs.

Paramedics arrived at the same moment. The first responder checked for her pulse, and screamed for aid. Attempts to revive her began in earnest. Not that Amani could hear any of it anymore.

 

THE END IS THE BEGINNING

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:: Hanger, Avatar of War



When the dark lash struck with the Shaman's attention on Vren, Runi's right arm spun upward and about Onrai's assault. Her bloodied talon curled about the oil slink of hatred that had been flung forth. The avian helm slowly pivoted back in the manifestation's direction.

"You are mistaken. You speak in certitudes and finalities. The dichotomy that pervades your struggle colors every interaction." Runi kept the lash between them taunt. "Nothing is ever lost. Only momentarily out of reach."

"Resa be Sol'yc Jorir Te'r. Tra be Baja Werda. Jorad be Jibr Kugai. Rala Saor jigr."
<Mando'a: Light of the First Born Sun. Void of the Shrouding Darkness. Voice of Life Defiant. Let the Page turn.> Cracks of white light popped and cracked along the remaining wooden blade in her left hand, and along the beskar of her beskar'gam. The Cloak of Many Colored Feathers shone brilliantly in the field of battle. When words failed a warrior, all that was left was breaking the enemy's will to fight. Now was the time to put it all on the line.

Whatever crushing force or searing rage the lash sought to deliver, Runi ignored to her battered limb as the power washed over her armor and body. None of it mattered. Not once her boot left the deck and the burning Speaker of the Mandokarla sought to streak across the distance to bring down the antithesis of Onrai's very being. Could it kill her, or merely dissipate a manifestation? It hardly mattered. One step at a time the Mandalorians -- and their allies -- would advance over the field of battle. If the Sith hoped they would break in heart or soul, it was Runi's appointed task to ensure their eternal disappointment. "The Manda!"


 

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