Annihilation Shatterpoint | BotM Annihilation of GA Held Tython

[SF-3335]

Location: Outskirts of the Temple Ruins - Tython
Objective: Engage Tython Accords Forces
Allies: BotM ( Keilara Kala'myr Erion Justeene Thomas Barran Vector Monk Kyrel Ren Darth Libertas Romund Sro Darth Saevius Shai Maji The Mongrel ) │ TK ( Darth Carnifex Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax )
Enemies: GA ( Zark San Tekka Osarla Ridor ) │ ME ( Kranak Vizsla ) │ NIO ( DECEASED Erskine Barran Aerys Myrrine Asanté Tsilor ) │ Independent ( Maple Harte Jas Katis ) │ SJC ( Caltin Vanagor Coren Starchaser Thurion Heavenshield ) │ Elysium Empire ( Rex Valhoun Zet Reav )
Direct Engagement: Hilal Vizsla

Tython rumbled, trembled, protested, and recoiled violently as the ancient war between Dark and Light raged on its surface. Flying a foot or two above the ground on her bike, SF-3335 was protected from its wrath, but was also precariously close to it. While the asteroid bombardment from the heavens seemed to have slowed down, the new threat came from below. A rivulet of lava manifested itself from the earth in an explosion of gas and fire, compelling the Morellian to take evasive action lest the machine that was keeping her alive amidst Tython’s apocalypse get splashed with volcanic slag.

All the while, her energy torpedoes connected with their target, dealing critical damage to one of the tank’s wheels and spinning out the vehicle in the process. Nevertheless, the vehicle was still dangerous. The Morellian’s eyes went wide upon registering the movement of its anti-personnel laser cannon, which swiveled towards her relative direction, compelling SF-3335 to pull the Crimson Velocity’s nose back into alignment with its circular trajectory around the enemy tank, doing so with a sharp grunt as she shifted her body across the bike in order to balance the weight distribution as the machine pivoted on its axis with 90 degrees of yaw. Then, once her nose was back in alignment, SF-3335 pinned the accelerator, doing so just as the laser bolts flew towards her, narrowly missing not only because of the quick maneuver, but also due to the visual distortion generated by the Phase Masque, which effectively concealed her true position via a volatile stuttering effect that confused the tank’s targeting system.

Now less than 75 meters from the tank’s position, SF-3335 pulled her bike into a sudden drift, once more lining its nose up with the tank, this time positioned at its rear. Immediately, she opened up with an automatic salvo of 20 10.36x77mm slugs from the Crimson Velocity’s twinned machine guns, aiming to rip through the vehicle’s rear wheels and armor plating via explosive firepower. All the while, she was quickly closing the distance via powerful acceleration, giving her energy torpedoes just enough time to finish recharging. Then, once she reached close range—less than 25 meters from the tank—SF-3335 willed her energy torpedoes to fire, delivering a pair of supercharged fusion plasma packets towards the vehicle’s rear at relativistic velocities, in what she hoped would strike a finishing blow.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Crimson Velocity
  
  • Primary Gun Hardpoint (4)
    
    • HFL-02 Heavy Flechette Verpine Shatter Launcher
      
      • Anti-Personnel Flechette Canister
    • HFL-02 Heavy Flechette Verpine Shatter Launcher
      
      • Anti-Personnel Flechette Canister
    • FAE/W-09 "Yammka" Medium Machine Gun
      
      • 10.36x77mm Explosive
    • FAE/W-09 "Yammka" Medium Machine Gun
      
      • 10.36x77mm Explosive
  • Universal Chemical Projectile Launcher (2)
    
    • Pink Vapor
    • Nagnol Gas
  • Cargo
    
    • Hekler’Kok Endurance-class Survival/Battle Rucksack
• FAE/A-03 Repulsor Craft Riding Suit
  
  • Utility
    
    • Neahtid Earpiece
• X8 “Gambit” Elite Disruptor Pistol

Spoiler: Summary of Actions

• SF-3335 pulls the Crimson Velocity’s nose back into alignment with its circular trajectory around Hilal’s Tank. Then, she accelerates back up to speed.
  
  • As mentioned in the previous post, the Phase Masque works to distort the Crimson Velocity’s visual profile. In this, the distortion confuses the targeting system and causes the incoming laser fire to miss.
• From here, SF-3335 pulls her bike into a drift, lining up its nose with the rear of Hilal’s Tank. Then, she accelerates into an attack run from 75 meters out and closing.
  
  • The two medium machine guns fire 20 explosive slugs, aimed to potentially strike the tank’s rear armor plating and wheels.
• Once the Crimson Velocity gets into close range—a little less than 25 meters from Hilal’s tank—SF-3335 opens fire with her energy torpedoes on the maximum setting, using the fusion plasma module and aimed to strike the tank’s rear section.

 

[The Mongrel]

The Temple Ruins
​

Location: Tython, Jedi Temple Ruins
Tags: Zark San Tekka | Wedge Draav | Scylla AI | Osarla Ridor

Spoiler: TL;DR

• TEMPLE RUINS
  • The Doomsayers use their maneuverability, superior to the HAATs, to stay on their tails
    • Less mobile Thornwaves provide cover and use their numbers against the enemy
  • The Scar Hounds rejoice at the tectonic devastation opening the way for them
  • Anti-vehicle walkers target the incoming tanks as best they can
  • Scav King champion Kovach Na Kranakh challenges Zark San Tekka with his dread blade

​

Zark San Tekka | Osarla Ridor | Scylla AI | Wedge Draav
​

The Mawite starfighters streaked in like the closing talons of a bird of prey, ready to rip into the Alliance gunships from above. The enemy craft had unleashed havoc upon the Mawite lines, and the time had come for bloody vengeance. The Brotherhood pilots began with two clean kills, taking down Razors 4 and 7, but that was hardly enough. They wanted the whole fething squadron, and they were going to fight hard to take them. Naturally, the cowardly foe took the opportunity to disappear, deploying concealment technology.

No matter. The hunters could be patient.

Thornwaves were of comparable speed and maneuverability to the HAATs, so the enemy's piloting experience alone might win out there. But the Doomsayers had a maneuverability advantage. No matter how the enemy twisted and rolled and dived, the fighter-bombers could do it faster and better. Let the enemy's flares intercept a few missiles; they couldn't do anything about the ion cannons locked onto them, pursuing them relentlessly, tracking their every maneuver and staying always on their tails. They were the true threat.

Of course, there were only four to a squadron.

That was why they needed twelve Thornwaves as cover.

So far, it'd been a good trade - a couple of Thornwaves for a couple of HAATs. If they kept going one for one, the Maw would win out by simple numerical advantage, perhaps the only place on Tython they had more of anything than their teeming enemies. Whether or not they could keep that particular casualty ratio, the Mawite pilots were at least distracting the gunships from making any more ground attacks. There had been too many of those as it was, and only by preventing further attack runs could the Brotherhood advance.

That advance received a strange and unexpected boost when, as if by the will of the gods themselves, a ragged path seemed to open in the very ground. The Scar Hounds let out a mighty bellow of triumph as the Scylla AI's machinations ripped a channel through the temple valley's defenses. All the elements were there, raging water and flaming lava and churning earth and hissing vapor. The ground shook as tectonic activity intensified and magma was unleashed, an unseen cataclysm below shaping the course of the battle above.

The Brotherhood forces, outnumbered and - given the incredible power of even a single Jedi, let alone a group - outgunned, did not question this bizarre gift. For all they knew, it was just another part of their Prophet's manipulation of the very fabric of reality - and in a way, it was Solipsis's arrival that had led to all this, even if the AI's attack had not actually been part of his plan. Besides, the Scar Hounds needed all the help they could get, for at that moment a half-dozen repulsor tanks and the soldiers of the 222nd came at them.

The anti-vehicle Raider Walkers would be the first line of defense against the enemy armor. Equipped with a heavy dual laser cannon and a pair of concussion missile launchers, they were more than capable of chewing through starfighters, tanks, and transports alike. Unfortunately, they were still just scout walkers, if heavily-armed ones. Their armor was excellent proof against small arms fire, but would quickly crumple under the weight of heavier weapons. They needed the heavy weapons of the Scav Kings... who were tied up with the Jedi.

There were no Scar Hound troops more suited to battling the almighty mage-knights of the Galactic Alliance than the Scav Kings... but that's like saying that the largest womp rat in the pack has the best chance against an acklay. They had shock whips, concussion rifles, missile launchers, heavy repeaters, electrified vibroblades, and dozens of other nasty weapons at their disposal. Their armor was almost as immune to small arms as that of the walkers looming over them. But against a lightsaber and the Force, what did that matter?

Every Scav King was a veteran of countless battles, and a scavenging genius. Each had built his or her own battleframe from scratch, using scrap looted from the battlefield, which explained why no two of them were anything alike. Each Scav King had written a story in metal with that mighty power armor, a long and epic tale told in dents and burn marks and weapon mounts and reinforced plating. Each was the pinnacle of what Scar Hounds could aspire to, the most respected of all warriors - other than the warlord himself.

The Jedi did not read those stories.

They just burned through them with laser-swords.

Seemingly without effort.

That didn't sit right with Kovach Na Kranakh, and he intended to put it right. He was old now, his long grey braids hanging lank around his wrinkled, scarred face - not that you could see it behind the fearsome mask of his battleframe. He was a Scav King, an old man in a profession where most died young, and the wise feared such a man. Skulls he had taken across a dozen worlds, tied on with leatheris cords, jangled and bounced against his rust-colored armor as he charged into the fray. He'd take more before the day was done.

Three weapon mounts extended from his back, like the upraised legs of a combat arachnid. Each of them held a lethal disruptor pistol, and they targeted foes independently of each other, twisting and turning to blast foes into ash at a terrifying rate. But it was the mighty weapon that Kovach held in his hands that gave him confidence he could face down the Jedi. It was a dread blade, a sinister, tortured approximation of a lightsaber powered by one of the broken kyber crystals the Maw had stolen from Ilum. A rare and powerful weapon.

One now pointed right at Zark San Tekka .

"Face me, Jedi!" Kovach bellowed, using the terrifying hydraulic strength of his battleframe's hulking arms to shove foes aside. He would no longer abide this disrespect being shown his honored comrades. "Face me, and know your equal!" Even mighty Kovach Na Kranakh knew that his boastful threat was probably not accurate - no matter how powerful and advanced his battleframe, no matter how long his experience, the Scav King did not have his foe's magic. That magic, it seemed, could do anything. There was no answer for it.

But Kovach was not afraid. If he died, he'd die well.

And the runes that marked him would feed the Prophet.

 

[Kirie]

FALTERING​

Tython,
Jedi Temple Ruins (Northern Lines)
ATTN: Aerys Myrrine | Zark San Tekka | The Mongrel
Vicinity: Wedge Draav | Coren Starchaser | Celeste Rigel | Thurion Heavenshield | Alessandra Io | Project Uriel | Caltin Vanagor + Others
[OPEN]

Kirie's voice boomed across the scarred ridgeline and the figure in front stopped. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her words were not met with a hail of blaster fire. She hoped that meant the New Imperial commander would be willing to listen to reason.

The Imperial stepped forward and so did she, so that the pair met in the middle. As soon as she was close enough, the soldier let forth a string of expletives, occasionally punctuated by orders barked at the troops behind her. Kirie listened silently, standing steady as the wind buffeted the both of them, blowing as strong as a gale.

"I might as well be relivin' me history books, is this Kaeshana all over again? Are you gonna start attackin' me medics too?"

"I remember Kaeshana." Kirie shouted back. She had read about the battle, before the Great Galactic War, when she was a young woman. "This isn't that."

She opened her mouth to speak further but before she could get a word the Imperial woman turned suddenly, dispatching a cultist just cresting the hill. Another string of curses and insults followed and Kirie blushed. Foolish of not to notice the Mawite approaching. So easily distracted.

The imperial stepped back to relay some more orders to her side and Kirie took a moment to compose herself. The fact she had not yet been shot was promising, she just had to convince their side the Alliance forces were not the real enemy here. A tough sell knowing recent history, but she had to try.

"No use wasting your firepower on us. Not when there are so many of them."

Kirie pointed out across the old temple, towards the advancing walkers and the massing Maw forces, who were once again surging forward steadily.

If the woman replied Kirie didn't hear it, a diving bomber had circled around, sending both the New Imperial and Alliance squads scrambling back to their respective sides of the hill.

The darkside infected Tython AI didn't care either if everything was liquidated in lava or explosive steam. As long as the Jedi temple and all their forces perished in a boiling lake of superheated explosive steam, and then the volcano's lava flow to follow it…

A few minutes later. The loudest BOOM of all happened about 34km below the ground, an eruption with such power all the battlescape might shake along a fault line. Lava began rising along a predetermined tunnel and piping network, moving fast enough the tunnels nearby would be consumed in boiling hellfire soon enough.

As the spray of dirt and stone kicked up from the bombing fell, a sickly, heavy feeling struck Kirie like a moving freighter. Her eyes were drawn to the temple ruins below, and she could just make out the ground cracking and widening, overflowing with molten rock, before the scene was lost in ash and steam. A moment later a colossal explosion burst forth, pinning Kirie to the hillside as she ducked down, protecting her head and face.

She rose quickly, still shaken but knowing her time to react was limited. Sure enough Mawite cultists had taken the opportunity the explosion had offered them, and were now rushing up the hill, seconds away from reaching Kirie's squad and the Imperial troops behind them. Worse still, all around them pieces of the ridgeline were crumbling and falling away as gargantuan cracks swallowed the ground around them. She didn't know much time they had left on solid ground, but it couldn't be long.

She wondered if they had overwhelmed Zark, or simply outmanoeuvred him? She hadn't felt him die...

"MOVE!" She yelled desperately, but the Nova Corps squad was already running, climbing to the crest of the ridgel in a few short paces and turning to blast the oncoming line of cultists, now only steps behind.

Kirie's palm snapped against the air, sending out a wide wave of energy that send the first line of Mawites staggering and tumbling down the hillside, but it did not slow the horde, in a blink a fresh wave of bodies had overtaken the first.

They backed up further, several of Kirie's squad raising their blasters to divert strikes from wicked curved blades.

Finally they had retreated as far as they could go, pressed up right against the Imperial position on the other side. Kirie felt a soldier die like a punch to the chest, then another.

She craned her head back, searching for the Imperial soldier she had spoken to.

"Help us!" She shouted, ducking down to avoid the swipe of a Mawite's blade. "Or you'll be next!"

It was true, the oncoming wave of cultists was overwhelming. If Kirie's forces were swept away, the Imperials soon would be too. The only way they could beat it back was together, and even then, maybe only just.

More soldiers dying. Kirie raised her hand again, this time sweeping upwards to send a group of cultists hurtling upwards. Not enough.

"Please."

 

[Aerys Yvarro]

​

​

Aerys was only a touch busy herself, what was left of the 1st Battalion, 1st Company - 313th Legion from the New Imperial Order. Were absolutely getting slaughtered, shouts in her Dosuunian language could be scarcely heard over the fray of battle. "Yer damn lucky, Jedi. I've got bigger problems than to mince history with you." Her way of saying she'd help, but if only because both of their survivals depended on it. "Please tell me, you lot got a way off this rock, cos while I'd love to believe me own nation wouldn't leave their own to die. I'm fairly certain that Rurik Fel bloke is more than keen to let the rest of us perish for his name." A little bit too much like Sieger Ren if you asked Aerys.

At the very least, her cousin Natasi Fortan had the balls to get soldiers out of hell's grasp. Aerys wasn't so sure that Rurik was of the sort, still, she had to hold out some semblance of hope that the NIO would issue the order to retreat or evacuate. In lieu of the NIO, she played out a call to Lockhart, the Madman of Galidraan - or so his reputation said so. Tyrell Lockhart would get the encrypted comms, she scaled up Bex Tarring just the same.

:: 313TH TO ANY AND ALL GALIDRAANI FORCES. WE NEED AN OUT! ITS A BLOODY SHITESTORM, GOT BUT A HANDFUL LEFT ::​

She let go of her comms only to shove her bayonet into another Mawite.

:: WE NEED ARTILLERY AND A WAY OUT ::​

​

She gestured forward, "c'mon LADS WE HAD IT BEFORE, C'MON WE CAN GET OVER THE BANKS!" The Daughter of Corellia and Galidraan shouted over the cacophony of violence that orchestra of death that beat with every drop of ammunition that sang with every shout of the Mawite brand of war, rebirth, and death. Aerys turned again to see the Jedi, and reached down - her metallic hand exposed through the now ruptured plastoid glove. "C'mon! We can push forward, but we've got to move, we're bloody porgs out here!"

Aerys refused to have Tython be her resting place, "when Dosuun fi-i-rst-" her voice shuttered to a halt with the spray of mortar fire. "Aro-o-o-ose from out the-" another spray of mortar fire. "DOSUUN! AVALONIA! CHARGE!" Another shout this time from Private Mathur. "Pyrovoliko!" Ordance incoming, "GET DOWN! KATO! KATO!"

"Rule DOSUUN. DOSUUN RULES THE STARS, C'MON! BY THE SUPREME LEADER'S CROWN WE'LL LIVE THIS DAY C'MON!" Shouted Aerys over the refrain of blaster fire, she aimed down sights to pop off cultists as she focused her strength on rallying what was left of the 313th. "We're gonna want get up and off the ground fast." She mentioned to Kirie off the cuff, ragged breaths as she felt her lungs burn. It was only when she felt she couldn't take another step that Aerys felt a second wind, and her body recalled its memory with the Force.

"I hate bloody cultists, no damn manners, curse the bloody NIO - they're no damn different than the Sith Empire they put into the grave," cursed Aerys, as she took cover from another shell attack. This one was enough to crack through her armor's helmet. She cracked on, fighting pushing forward to create a single avenue in which they could advance. "Oi, Jedi, might I ta know, who the bloody hell sent ya?" A pause as she used the back of her rifle to beat a cultist into the dirt. "Ya know, ta who do I send me thanks for havin' yew come over here with such authority up yer bum."

Zark San Tekka | DECEASED Erskine Barran​

 

[Kal]

Outskirts of Kaleth Temple, Tython
Running interference against the Maw.
Ishani Dinn​

She wanted to bury the hatchet? An unexpected development, especially given the situation. Or maybe not. Nothing like the horror of war to make one reconsider petty feuds - not that Kal had ever considered it a true rivalry.

While prone to pranks and trickery, he was neither vindictive nor easily offended.

<Certainly. It seems a wise choice given your relationship with Arcturus.> He was still not entirely sure his friend had made the right choice, but the choice had been his to make. Snark was one thing, overt interference another.

<Trap their souls? That seems rash. Perhaps banishment would be equally disruptive.> Even as he finished his thought, he could tell she was not listening - not really. She had already started feeding on the lives of the fallen and was rapidly losing control. While those particular dead would not fuel the Dark Lord's ritual, it seemed a dubious course of action.

Before Kal could make his objections known, he felt a flare of danger. The whistling of incoming artillery could not be heard over the fighting, but he had other, keener, senses. It was unclear which side had fired them, but it mattered little.

<Take cover.> The words were accompanied by images of falling shells and went out to all the nearby defenders, not just Ishani. As the grunts would be unused to telepathy, they were accompanied by a hefty dose of suggestion.

 

[Laoth]

Equipment: Laoth's Cybernetic Body |Forcesword
Post Tags: Ishida Ashina | Bernard of Arca
Location: Tython

Histories
Falling
Racing​

---

Earth. Wind. Fire. Water. The fundamental elements of life. The composing facets of the environment and organic things. The four things needed to sustain evolution, existence, and extinction. Each merged into a warring catastrophe upon the reality they served, damning their purposes to the cataclysm of their mutations. Each particle of it as bizarre as the very thought that the homeworld of the Jedi could be so assailed by their greatest foes. As eldritch as the dark atrocities brewing in the minds of alchemical architects ex and current. As unthinkable as the Brotherhood itself.

It was comical to the Devaronian to think about as he ascended, momentarily recalling on the histories implanted in his brain by his resurrector Spindle . Records that he did not know before, or cared little to understand following an initial reading. Sagas, legends, myths, facts, falsehoods, peace times, war times. Everything from the history of the Galaxy of yore to the Galaxy of now. All now congregating here. On Tython. Bastion of the Jedi. Birthplace of the Sith.

The Sith had come home. Prodigal sons and daughters all. Such an irony.

He managed a sliver of a giggle before returning to the task at hand, pivoting his body against the mountain’s surface in an abnormal, contortionist way to avoid a gout of flaming stone. Laoth moved still, his arms and legs rotated behind his back as his body and head faced outwards across the storm-plagued fields. Never stopping. Never collecting himself. Always climbing. Despite Akar Kesh’s unique, perhaps hindering design, his momentum had not wavered even when forced to dodge falling objects or the world itself.

No, it was in tune with his ascending motions. As supportive of his climb as it was discouraging. Thunder crashed and shook the foundations of the mountain’s surface; lightning stabbed in great spears and lances for the metallic beast, cracking apart the stone; starships careened into the earth and carved open great gashes he had to clamber over or avoid entirely; the Force screamed in agony as he neared his target, his head threatening to split open where his horn used to be - where she had shattered his mind. Yet, Laoth withstood it all. Burning like a torch and boiling like a tar pit, digging his fingers into rock and stone with as much ease as a blade through flesh. He had no care for it, no care for anything beyond the moment of reflection but his quarry. His archfoe.

Ishida Ashina.

Less than a mile now. Less than 5280 feet to her and his redemption. He could finally kill her and end this miserable feud that should have ended on Jedha when he threw the Midnight at her. It should have ended on Selvaris when he unconsciously revived those soldiers to devour her. It should have ended long ago. And it will end n-

Laoth barely grunted in surprise when she suddenly appeared above him, lightsaber in hand and slashing for his body. Had he climbed faster than expected? No…no he was on time. Had she lost her grip and now sought to recover from her fall? No…no her face did not read of surprise or panicked intentions. No…she had…fallen willingly to meet him. How had he not seen her? Or did he see her but could not comprehend why she chose to do what she did? Was she faster than him? Or just caught him by utter surprise.

Whatever the case, Laoth hissed in response as he unlatched his claws from the mountain, rotating his body around properly to ensure perfect defense. It did not matter. She landed on his chest as he leaned back - perhaps he was hoping to cause her to tumble in front of him so that he could pin her against the stone and crush her with sheer impact - and swung for his face.

Laoth - against his own understanding of the word in regards to himself - panicked and fully released his hold on the mountain to avoid the gleaming blade of white plasmic light. Ishida bent her knees at the momentum and launched herself back up, effectively kicking him down through the air. And that is when the speeder collided with him. Metal scraped metal as his downfall increased in speed from the sudden impact. He roared in frustration at this turn of events, gripping the wreckage of the machine and throwing it off of him as storm clouds and magmic fire enshrouded him. Falling and falling through rain and flame, unsure of his position now. Unsure of how close the ground was to him.

But this could not be his end. This would not be his end. He had escaped. Fought. Killed. Rushed. He had found her. He had hunted her down. Ishida would die. Ishida had to die.

Laoth bellowed just as his automated systems screeched to life to warn him of an incoming object to his right, approaching faster than he was falling. He turned his head, wondering what it was, and cackled as an Alliance starfighter sped into view. Laoth turned his body in the fall and - with greater effort than he cared to admit - latched onto the ship as it passed through an archway of lava. The shields were down, the ship’s integrity hanging on by a thread. The pilot was clearly frightened, though unaware that he had just gained a passenger.

What to do? What to do? The question ran through Laoth’s mind as the ship cleared the flames and resumed individual subjugation by the storm. Automated Queary Response: Would you like to activate Neuromachine Interface?

Well, that was new. Laoth barely formed his answer when he felt a surge of power course through his bio-veins and Mechu-Deru plating. A host of information regarding the ship he held onto bled into his vision. Coding, wiring, physical access points, digital access points, and the rest. As if automated itself, the Neuromachine Interface chose for him. In an instant, Laoth felt himself…controlling the ship. Not physically, but mentally. Conscious and subconscious thoughts granted him direction over the starship. He laughed, laughed some more, and held on tighter as the ship suddenly changed course to the screaming confusion of its pilot, turning back towards Akar Kesh through rain and flame and racing for the beating heart of Ishida Ashina.

Racing against the proverbial clock, Laoth willed the starship for Akar Kesh, observing with mingled vision as he approached his archfoe’s last known position. Slowly, through the haze of chaos, he saw her, clambering to the top of the platform where had seen her the first time.

He laughed as he turned the ship so that it would crash into the mountain just below her, leaping off it at the last possible second to land on the platform and swing himself into a defensive animal-like crouch, waiting for her to notice him. Waiting to strike.

 

[Geiseric]

​

Location: Akar Kesh
Equipment: In Sig
ALLIES: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir / Battle Meditators / Jedi on OBJ III
ENEMIES: Khamul Kryze

​

The Demon Mandalore spoke in words that concurred with the voice in his head. It was unsavoury indeed, but what other option did he have? Death, one way or another, his, Eina's, or Khamuls... was inevitable.

The black red energy of Khamul's own strike collided and contrasted with the golden arcs of Geiseric's, lighting up the area around them against the blotted out sky.

~ Don't let the Bogan find its way into your heart my beloved crusader. You're stronger than that. Do not believe his words, his deeds and his actions, Khamul Kryze is a Sith, he is trying to turn the power of the Bogan against you. Your faith, your devotion and your love for Ashla is stronger than anything, she never leaves you, your soul and your heart. Believe in this, in yourself, in us and in Ashla! Your light, our light shines the strongest in the greatest darkness, the Bogan cannot harm you! ~

He could feel the warm, ethereal touch of his lover from across the void. Hers were the arms he wanted to fall into when this was over, and that moment seemed ever closer.

"I... I can see no other way. We have entered the final hours, my dear. I want to be strong, but chaos has consumed us all. By Ashla, we must win by any means necessary." he spoke telepathically back to Eina.

Dire straights were narrowing, and finally, the question was answered.

The immovable object, for all his strength, from all the places he drew it, could stand no longer. The Sith lightning overpowered his own, and when the golden electricity had resided enough, the force of Khamul's energy threw Geiseric backwards into a large monolith of weathered, ancient stone.

Perhaps it had once served to hold up a long forgotten piece of Akar Kesh, or perhaps it was the lone sliver of an ancient wall. Now it was the end of the line for Geiseric, stopping him abruptly as he careened through the air.

Now they had answered the lingering question, another arose to the forefront of their minds. What was the price Geiseric was going to pay for his weakness?

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Though she was intoxicated by the feeding, Kal’s warning reached Ishani. She started to rise, but not fast enough.

The bomb landed almost right on top of her. Ishani wasn’t obliterated by it, per se, but as she tried to turn and flee, the entire left side of her body was hit by an enormous gout of flame. Layers of skin were burned away in an instant, revealing muscle and sinew and bone beneath.

While her blood boiled, she was thrown through the air by the force of the blast. Her body impacted with something hard enough to snap her spine, then toppled into a split in the earth created by the tremors of Tython's fury.

She was not conscious as she fell (perhaps a small mercy, given how much pain she would’ve been in otherwise), and therefore her final thoughts were not of home or the family she would be leaving behind. There was really only enough time for a flash of animal terror before the lights went out, and there was only darkness.

Kal​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

SHATTERPOINT
THE GREAT ERROR FINALE
Issue #5 w/ Corin Trenor Ryv Jem Fossk Darth Solipsis Rurik Fel Heinrich Faust

​

Up, down, left, and right; Dagon twisted and turned through the shower of meteorites falling upon the world from the peeled surface of the moon. The burning flames of each rock scorched through leather and flesh alike as they grazed the charging Jedi. His attention split laterally, from the onslaught above to Solipsis' moves to Jem and Corin's engagement. All pieces of one whole, one last case to solve or die trying. But being everywhere at once meant being nowhere at all.

He somersaulted over a crashing moon rock and his eyes popped wide open as a bolt of crimson energy struck him center mass and sent him tumbling bag like a ragdoll across the molested ground into a wide-open crater. Hands and legs refused to listen as red sparks of electricity crackled over his convulsing body. A groan escaped his lips as he struggled to pull his head back up. Once, twice, it fell back on the searing soil before he mustered enough strength to glance at the blistering patch over his chest. The scars of a hundred battles blackened to crisp.

"Ugh--" a heavy moan dripped from his bloodied lips, "-- got to..." he clenched his teeth and forced his hands into fists, squeezing life back into them, "... get up." the will was there but the searing pain siphoned his strength and focus away. His squinting eyes fluttered against the carpet of soot before they opened staring into the lacerated skies above. The stormy heavens, ever-shifting, beckoned for help; the Force swirling through the tapestry of a million lives cried for their salvation.

The Jedi must rise.

Always.

He felt a soft nudge at the back of his head, tender words of hope, and an invisible hand to reach. Distant was Henna Ashina 's touch, as if beyond a chasm he could never cross. A ledge he could not reach. A hand slipping away until he suddenly found his footing. A familiar rock cutting through the tide, standing strong against the bleak tempest to keep him above the black seas that sought to drown him. A cushion against his fall and a stepping stone to his rise. His former master Asmundr Varobalder .

The invisible hand did not slip away.

Dagon held tight until his soul began to ache as the light of his fellow Jedi pulled him back.

From the embers of the crater, the smoldering figure of the Jedi rose. Shoulders hunched but chest up in defiance against the forces of evil. His body would break before his oath ever will.

The raven-haired Knight's senses returned as the bleak cacophony became discernible again. Ardent and golden locked against crimson, sabers sizzling and screeching as they clashed against each other. An emerald streak to the side took his attention as it weaved untouched like the wind. Dagon brushed the sweat and soot from his eyes and blinked--

"-- Ryv ." he heard himself whisper. The Sword of the Jedi. The man that led the New Jedi through the blackest of nights against the tide of darkness enveloping the galaxy. The older brother they looked up to in the darkest of times. The beacon of hope that burned bright and untamed now seared in a straight line with a single direction... and one sole destination.

He swallowed loud as the clairvoyant afterimage abated to the weight of the present as the Force guided his focus unto the twin blue blades of his padawans swung at each other. Dagon's part of the equation. The newfound strength surging from the Jedi meld spurred him to act. He dashed straight at Jem, "Is this--" meteorites dotted his skewered trajectory towards her, bouncing from their impact, "--the legacy -- the galaxy you want--" he closed in and as her lips moved to the tune of apocalypse, a blast of force push sprung from his arm at her,

"-- for your brother?!"​

 

[Celeste Rigel]

Allies: Coren Starchaser , Thurion Heavenshield , Caltin Vanagor
[Coming your way: Zark San Tekka Kirie ]
Enemies: Maw, Darth Libertas (in the area)

There was a moment to breathe.

With the immediate threat of the moon crashing down on Tython eliminated, Celeste took a moment to assess. Coren was engaging an enemy – the Sith woman, and Thurion had gone with Caltin to discover the source of the detonations, force be with them.

The healer reached out – seeking those that were injured.

She'd go where she was needed.

The connection in the force was telling. There'd been a burst of energy at Zark's location, Celeste's eyes shifted in that direction. Not terribly far, but it certainly wouldn't be a walk in the park by any means. She caught the attention of a group of Knights – "we need to connect with Master San Tekka's forces," she said urgently.

With Knights in tow, Celeste set off – as quick as she could with the ground quaking beneath them. As she went, her voice would be in Coren's ear: be safe.

 

[Joseph Torson]

---

---

---

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
Elite Raptor SuperCommandos [24/24] Retribution Corps Operatives [144/144]

The Initial volley of blaster fire was deadly, taking out a few House Io Androids. However, to Torson's surprise, the Androids were able to catch the Rockets and Grenades that his Raptors had thrown at them earlier, sending them back towards the Raptors and near the walls of the hallway. “SHIELDS!!!” Torson shouted as he activated his Personal Shield Generator followed by the rest of the Raptors shielding them from the powerful blast that would follow, amplified by the concentrated firepower of the Android’s weapons towards the Explosives sent back towards the Raptors. While all the Raptors along with Torson managed to survive the blast they now had another problem to deal with. A huge hole into open space. Unfortunately for Torson and his men they were too slow to react and were quickly sucked into space before they could do anything.

Normally any regular soldier would perish from such an event but yet again, Torson and his men were no regular soldiers equipped with enough gear to survive the cold vacuum of space for a few hours thanks to the temperature regulators and their oxygen recirculators embedder within their armor. As such, Torson and Raptors remained well-alive even as they floated aimlessly into the cold vacuum of space, still protected by their personal shield generators against any blaster fire that House Io might use to try to finish them off. Torson then signaled his men to follow him as he activated the Foot Thrusters within his boots and began to slowly accelerate back towards the Avatar, soon followed by the rest of the Raptor Commandos. However instead of returning through the same hole that they had been sucked into, Torson and the Raptors would return through a nearby airlock located a floor above the location of the House Io Androids advancing towards the Nutrient Storage.

“Follow me,” Torson said to his men as they exited the airlock and entered a hallway. “We’re headed towards the Nutrient Storage. There we will ambush them and eliminate what’s left of that group of Androids” the Captain said. He then contacted the other teams of Retribution Corps Operatives and gave them new orders. “House Io has managed to bypass us. Return to the Nutrient storage for immediate interception.”. House Io would have the impression that they had killed the entirety of Torson’s Force of Commandos but in reality they would have simply delayed the inevitable. Even in the small amount of time they had engaged House Io’s forces, Torson and his men had been able to inflict a few casualties, destroying 4 Androids and damaging a few others while suffering no casualties even as they were sucked into space. When the full might of the Hand of Judgement would come bearing down on them, it would be a massacre…but for House Io.

---

Tags [House Io] | Maple Harte ​

---

 

[Amani Serys]

"Well, you can't be any worse than me," She laughed nervously, somewhat underselling her own abilities; The last few years as a spacer had let her pick up a few tricks as a pilot, even if she was still far from being any kind of ace. But nothing like a little self-deprecation to ease the tension of impending death, right?

"Yeah… here," Amani activated the main turret from the console. Standard issue for civilian defenses, but better than nothing. "Get us back into atmo, at least then we'll have a chance of survival if everything goes to hell." Options were few, and ultimately she'd place her bets on crashing on the war-torn Tython than in the vacuum of space. Out of the frying pan and into the fire… and then back into the frying pan. The frying pan that was on the verge of turning into a whole other fire.

Not the greatest day ever.

Placing her trust in Kai, Amani then returned to the unconscious Surea. Surrounding her, blood, festered with a disease of preternatural origin. "Guess I'm doing this," She sighed, crouching down close with a spare vial in hand. Admittedly, part of her curiosity regarding the Rot was purely personal. It was unlike any sort of sickness she had ever seen, and her own continued resistance to its most malignant effects raised all the more questions. And opportunities.

Amani reached down to collect a fresh sample.

Kai Bamarri | Surea​

 

[Kyrel Ren]

​

Location: Master’s Retreat
Allies: Maw
Enemies: Kahlil Noble Valery Noble
Objective: 1


Kyrel, was in the midst of beating down the young Noble, a sense of quiet satisfaction came when his fists came crashing several times against him, in his blind rage he was unable to focus on both Valery and Kahlil both. The shroud of darkness surrounding him only served as a barrier of sorts, if even for a short time. The violent eyes watched as Kahlil moved first from being beat down, to rolling away from one of the heavy blows in order to launch one of his own against the big brute.

The punch had little if any effect at all. This had made the Master of Ren curious of what the plan was, it was unlike him to meet Kyrel with might alone. In that same moment Kyrel had growled, determined to unleash another wave of bare knuckle beatings. This time his fists were met by the Force stopping his next blow coming towards him. Looking intent with deadly fury into the man’s eyes he heard him speak.

"Return to your rest, Kyrel."

As soon as the words left his lips, the man stood still holding his arms back. Nothing but a standoff now remained, as Kyrel started to feel the shroud of darkness started to peel away. Suddenly the light had started to trap him, bright light obscured his vision. His eyes widened as that same light pushed him to his knees as it encroached, threatening to suffocate him. His flesh made from the dark side had started to burn through the flesh, his spinal cord made from bled Kyber crystals began to glow.

While the light itself started to form some type of hold, it wasn’t meant to kill him. Gritting his teeth, smoke started to come off slowly as he felt the light keep him trapped. First he tried to fight it off, throwing his knuckles against the light only to find his attempts pitiful and painful all the same. Her words still echoed in his mind despite the struggle.

"Do not fight it, Kyrel. Even your darkness can't shroud my Light."​

What had followed with such words, was his connection feeling smothered. The light that has kept him trapped, also wrapped themselves around his connection to the shadow… The witch herself was trying to rid Kyrel of his dark power. Unfortunately he couldn’t break from the light, his might was not enough and slowly the Ren was forced completely on his hands and knees. The light had threatened to destroy what he coveted and that was his raw connection to the dark side.

A cry of pain came from him, as he shot back his voice in a soft growl. “You think you can live with it…” He paused his voice rising to a scream. “Take it! Take it all!!!” He yelled into the light that surrounded him, getting up his arms out in defiance, his hands rolled into fists. His scream echoed through the Force, as his connection slowly started to fade, but it wouldn’t be given so freely. Instead of the darkness being a barrier, everything that had made Kyrel Ren poured off into waves of darkness.

He roared, as she tried to take his connection, in turn she would have to face the wrathful nature of Kyrel. Making her absorb his darkness as he felt the connection being sniffed out, memories flooded her mind. A young man who served as an Imperial Pilot, Kyrel’s transformation into a cyborg that had idolized Vader, The deaths of his parents by his own hand, the rage of his eternal place as an enforcer, the fires of damnation and the pain of rebirth as a tool of those he despised. Memories so painful, all the trauma and rage that made up the Wrath of the Maw was sent like a feedback loop into Valery’s mind assaulting her, as he screamed out the structure shaking from the energy being absorbed, and sent out. Indeed the Maw’s Wrath had been unleashed.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

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

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Thurion pushes the Scorpenek over on its side before slicing through its underbelly, destroying it.
• Thurion instructs his fellow Jedi to use large rocks as a shieldwall, allowing their combined forces to move up under cover.

"I'm fine," he groaned in response while clinging to the hulking droid.

Again forced to improvise, Thurion waited for the droid to make its mistake; in trying desperately to rid itself of its joyrider, the metallic titan stepped too close to the tunnel wall, allowing the Jedi to use his legs to push off said wall with enough power to make the Scorpenek keel over on its side. He tucked and rolled into a standing position, picking up his lightsaber during the maneuver, then turned to the fallen droid.

He proceeded to cut off its legs one by one, still flailing about in a last ditch attempt at keeping its enemy at bay. With its bottom exposed, Thurion stabbed his Jedi weapon through its guts, cutting a hole into its belly, then reached inside to forcibly pull out its technological innards.

"Do not be too proud of this technological terror you've created," he reflected, holding the Scorpenek's "heart" in his hand before crushing it.

The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force.

"Looks that way," he replied on Caltin's realisation that the tunnel was headed back towards the Jedi Temple. With the pair of droids destroyed, Thurion rejoined Master Vanagor with a pat on the back of his shoulder, sneakily wiping the grease and lubrication from his hand. "Whatever is tunneling its way there, they mean to wipe out all memory of the Jedi Order's past. Not to mention destabilise the planet even further."

They had a ways to go yet, for there was still no sign of the tunneler itself, whether creature or man-made. Weighing their options, as more and more enemy reinforcements arrived wave by wave, Thurion had an idea.

"Cover me!"

With his hands to the cave ceiling, he telekinetically caused huge chunks of rock to fall from it, crushing the first wave of reinforcements. "We'll use these to move up unassailed," he instructed Caltin, gripping one of the massive slabs with his mastery of the Force to create a mobile barrier against the encroaching enemies.

"SHIELDWALL," he called out, summoning surviving Jedi to his side to share the load as well as pick up additional pieces to expand said shieldwall. Any Rangers or Alliance troops were able to advance under cover, firing back at the enemy whenever an opportunity presented itself. Jedi were able to deflect any stray blaster rounds in danger of passing through the wall of rock. Charging cultits were pushed aside and dealt with in swift fashion, or crushed beneath the sheer weight moving against them.

It was at this moment that the Lion King found the time to let out a belly of laughter.

"Just like home, Caltin! Ya'll gotta pay us a visit sometime; Lady Heavenshield cooks the best red meat this side of Coruscant!"

 

[Ronar]

Location: The Reach of Nitharl, Base of Mt. Geran,
Northern Temple Valley, Tython
Objective: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!!!!!!!
Allies: BOTM/NSO, Thomas Barran , Ardana Vorco
Enemies: NIO/Enclave/NJO

"ADVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANCE!!!!"

As soon as the call was made, Ronar was running. All the energy, all the excitement, all the thrill of battle exploded within him as, like a shell from a cannon, he hurtled towards the enemy lines. His cortosis sword shone in the lights of fires and lightning, as did his eyes, wild and passionate. He gave no orders to his men, trusting them to follow as he led the charge. Around them, other Mawites were also charging, a seething mass of muscle and armor surging towards the enemy defenses. Energy bolts and slugthrower rounds whipped past Ronar's head, striking soldiers behind him. Their screams echoed in his ears, already roaring as the blood rushed hot through his vessels. Something struck him, punching through his armored pauldron to graze the flesh beneath. A glancing blow; Ronar continued on, the smell of his own blood only making him run faster, eyes so filled with bestial rage they looked almost inhuman.

He felt his arm lift, felt the recoil as instincts fired his pistol towards the enemy lines. His men, his Violet Wolves, joined in, doing the best they could to suppress the defenders as the throng made its way up the hill. It was nearly useless - one of his Wolves took a shot through his faceplate and crumpled to the ground. But still they fired, reaching out with fingers of bolt and slug to seek their enemies, even as fang and claw were readied for the inevitable melee. Why were they so far away? Ronar gritted his teeth as another bolt skimmed the flesh of his left calf, adrenaline and battle discpline the only things that kept him going.

"Cowards, the lot of you!" he heard himself scream over the sounds of battle, "Cowering like rats in a nest! I will slaughter you like the filth you are!" The outburst was practically lost in the cacophony, but it made him feel better, and the need to make good on his threat urged his pace to even greater lengths. Another Wolf went down, a hole the size of a fist in his gut, but Ronar did not break his stride. His remaining Wolves howled and yelled beside him, drawn to their commander by bonds forged so fast and short as to be meaningless, yet so strong as to be unbreakable. They were more than halfway now, and the hail of defensive fire steadily increasing. A third Wolf went down, then a fourth; only six now stood by Ronar's side. Still they came, yelling and howling, the madness of battle driving them forward even as the fire became so thick as to be a curtain barring their way.

Then, they reached the defenses. In seconds, the entire field fell away, and there was only the enemy before him. Ronar was gone now; his mind had been taken over completely by the fog of war. It was a familiar feeling, one he had become acquainted with when he was only a child. The mind and body became one, the warrior so taken by his instincts it was almost as if he was no longer in his body at all. Ronar watched through the eyes of another as one bone-armored foot crested the defensive trench, the other landing in the face of an Imperial trooper. He rode the man down, crushing his head in the mud beneath his weight. A neck snapped; the sound like a distant echo as the body spun. Face to face with a rifle he ducked, the bolt whizzing past his head and striking another soldier further down the line. Two screams, one of the soldier behind him, the other of the one before him as he struck with the cortosis sword, the strength of his cybernetic right arm propelling the razor-sharp blade through armor, muscle, and bone as he severed the man's left leg at the knee.

Another shot; Ronar's pistol went spinning from his hand. Without breaking momentum he tossed the cortosis sword to his left hand, gripping the trooper's neck with his right and snapping it like a twig. A shout; one of his Wolves poured rifle fire into an enemy soldier charging with a bayonet, taking the man down just as a slug round punched through the side of his helmet. Ronar screamed with rage, taking up the fallen warrior's rifle and dumping the remainder of the clip into the offender. Nearby, one of his five remaining Wolves grappled with an enemy officer, the two men rolling in the dirt as they fought over the officer's combat knife. The officer was victorious, but just as he had plunged the knife into his enemy's breast, he himself screamed as a cortosis blade sprouted from the front of his armor. Ronar ripped the blade free, then took a second to survey the battlefield.

They had reached the first defensive position, and were locked in close combat with the enemy force. It was a stalemate for now, as the wave of Mawite forces crashed against the rocks of the defenders. In a brief moment of clarity Ronar waved the pennant once more, his four remaining Wolves rallying to the violet banner. No words were spoken, no orders given, the five shield-brothers simply roared a battle cry and plunged again into the fray.

Rule number eight, Ronar, echoed his father's voice, The wolf does not worry about tomorrow, only about today, the here and the now. If you have no future, what need have you for fear?

 

[Kai Bamarri]

<This is ass,> Kai aptly described the situation as he plowed the ship toward the atmosphere of Tython.

The shuttle was still firing turbolasers at them, doing its best to murder them all. One blast breached the shields and struck the ship's right wing, doing some damage. Kai grit his teeth, drawing upon the Force to help him block out the pain of his injuries amid the violent jostling of the vessel as they breached the planet's atmosphere without any shields left...

Surea Amani Serys​

 

[Valery Noble]

Location: Tython | Enroute to Master's Retreat
Appearance: Link
Outfit: Factory Link
Weapon: Double-Bladed Lightsaber
Tag: Kahlil Noble Kyrel Ren
Post: #10
Objective: Secure the Master's Retreat

Streams of light wrapped themselves around the Wrath's body to imprison him not only physically, but through the Force as well. It was an attack not meant to inflict any harm, but to strip away the very thing that offered his being the power to destroy and corrupt. Perhaps, in a way, it was offering him mercy when he didn't deserve it — Kyrel Ren was a force of pure evil who had never shown any light within his rotten heart. But even with him, this was the one way she could be assured that his darkness was purged permanently.

"You think you can live with it…"

On hands and knees, as he felt the Force being slowly stripped away from him, the Master of Ren called out to Valery, whose focus was entirely on maintaining his imprisonment and severing. No matter how much he resisted or how strong he was in the Force, her will to finally end his corruption was unbreakable — the fire within her was finally unleashed, and there was no stopping her now.

"Take it! Take it all!!!

Along the pathways of the Force that lingered between the two Force rivals, dark memories of his past began to flood her mind. They forced themselves through the cracks and trapped Valery within her own mind, while she fought hard to keep Kyrel pinned down. But the pain she felt from the darkness that invaded her was so strong, that her breathing shifted into sharp, erratic breaths, and her eyes were forced wide open. Then, as the painful images began to repeat and grow in emotional intensity, Valery understood she had a choice to make.

Either she would push through and Sever him from the Force, thereby accepting a completely shattered and insane mind, or she gave up now to shield herself but risk Kyrel gaining back his connection to the Force. With the decision echoing between her and Kahlil, she turned teary eyes to her husband, as she felt the weight of it all. They were supposed to leave together, strong and ready to return to their family, but taking Kyrel down was so incredibly important to the Galaxy as a whole.

But she could not give up on those she loved.

"Kahlil, I need you-" her strained words could not be turned into a sentence, as a sudden, loud rumbling around them marked the beginning of the end of the Master's Retreat. The platform they had been standing on finally buckled under the stress and damage it had taken and fell apart into the river and ground below. "Kahlil!" she screamed, but the sound of metal, stone, and glass collapsing in on itself was deafening, and for a moment, everything went black for the Jedi Master.

"Love... are you okay? Kahlil?!" she called out, as she scrambled up to her feet and looked around. Dust and debris had been blown up into the sky, fires were burning everywhere and she felt blood running down her face and hands from cuts she sustained. The injuries were minor, all things considered, but she needed to know where he was.

Finally, her hand shifted to her lightsaber and with a flick of its switch, the violet blade ignited to provide her light and security against whatever threat still lingered around her. Despite what happened, she had a feeling this battle was far from over.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

“We sleep peaceably in our beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on our behalf.”- George Orwell​

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

Do you feel it, Thurion Heavenshield ? That heat? That’s coming from whatever is doing this, it’s filling the tunnels.

Putting his hand to the ground for a brief moment, Caltin Vanagor could feel something “off”.Just as he had earlier. It was clear that something was causing all of these seismic disturbances, but were they all connected? Or were they just meant to distract from something bigger? Or worse, unrelated. None of that was important because whatever the intention was, there was something going on with the soul of the planet Tython that the big man did not like?

Yes, a planet can have a “soul”.

Think about it, any moon that can produce life, host an environment, anything of the sort can carry the experiences and memories that those sentients leave behind. What do you think the ruins of the Starforge are? The Ruins of the Jedi Temple of Tython? The great Library of Ossus? The Temple of Kalet? The tomb of Freedon Nadd on Dxun? The Tomb of Naga Sadow on Korriban? Those who hold such types of ruins, of memories, carry them along with them. It is said that in some religions there are those who believe that spirits of the fallen still roam the lands. The Jedi, and the Sith both believe this in the form of “Force Ghosts”. So with all of this evidence, how is it not feasible that a planet could have, or at least obtain some level of a soul in and of itself?

This was not the protection of the planet Tython’s history(well, it was but…) but for the very soul of the planet itself.

Heavenshield was proof of what his surname would suggest, ever the warrior king he stood for anything and everything noble anything and anyone of fidelity. @Celests Rigel and Coren Starchaser are both noble and amazing in their own right, but polar opposites, Celeste being the healer, and Coren the way seeker, the ever present warrior looking to expand his horizons. Romi Jade another warrior to which he respected more than he would admit(he would get to her as well as a few others in a moment). Jace Khel Zark San Tekka , Tracyn Ordo @Asha Vines, Asmundr Varobalder , @Justice Lesan… all of them were here and none were leaving.

Ummm you forgot someone…

Oh yeah! @Cotan Sar'andor (would never live that down). Anyway, he shared a bond with Heavenshield, both being warriors at heart much like Sarchaser (he did not have this relationship only because he had not been around the Wayseeker as much). Out of all of them though, Vanagor probably identified the most with Romi Jade the most. No, he did not look to go shopping with her or anything like that, but she had seen such death and destruction play out before her and the pain it brought only brought her inspiration to stand taller against it. She inspired what was good about the Jedi, and what the public should see in it. The massive Jedi Master respected that.

Back to the point, all of these warriors were, in their own right, forming one entity, an all-encompassing force (for lack of a better term) to put a stand in the storm and weather its capabilities. There was no stopping what was going to happen from coming, but they could put an end to it. It was taking all of them, giving everything that they have in and of themselves, and in their belief in each other, but they were doing it. Even now, with this geothermal threat that several of them (Romi, Jace, Thurion, and himself) were facing they drew strength from each other, Each with their own reasons, their own motivations to be here, but all for one purpose.

To save the soul of Tython.

Maybe he was no longer a Jedi in the visceral, technical sense, but Caltin Vanagor identified with them and had done so for a long time. Even then though, when he was the big man had his own intentions, his own motivations to do what he did, if you would ask him, Vanagor would simply tell you “I have to be able to look at myself in the mirror in the morning. In truth, he was destroying these relays and fighting these droids, everything so that (in a naive, unattainable way) no one else would have to feel the sense of loss, to go through the pain that any of them had felt. The pain was a part of life, it helped you, molded you, and shaped you into what you are, yes but to suffer needlessly when there was an option, a choice. They should be able to take it.

That is what he wanted them to have.

Thurion had a great idea, as the Lion King went to work putting his plan into motion, the massive Jedi Master cocked his fist and slammed it into the ground sending a shockwave forward. Although this maneuver might be considered "reckless" considering the deteriorating situation that they were in, Vanagor was very precise with it when he wanted to be, and he did. As Heavenshield grabbed the other mass and nodded, he had the opportunity to grab one of the large masses. It was a classic method of following the Rangers, the Troopers, whoever followed them and just ran down their power cells.

The plan was working, any weapons fire that those either infected by this AI or maniacally following orders would meat rockface, and the coalition would be able to return fire with impunity.

Are you sure? My wife can eat! It was clearly a joke as it was clearly obvious which of the two of them would be “the hungry one”, though he again interjected a moment later. Don’t tell her I said that, please.

The heat was growing more and more intense the closer they came to the source (thus further down into the planet that they went). There was a growing mist that became arider and toxic and less hospitable. Caltin took this chance to begin fully appreciating the boost he was being given by Coren Starchaser , by Celeste Rigel , by @Asmunder Varobalder, as well as @Cotan Sar'andor…

Yeah! Remembered him!

LET IT GO! Anyway, he took that moment as they moved to pull all of the moisture he could (without killing it for anywhere else) to counteract, or at least lessen the effect of what they were experiencing. It wasn’t working and once they were in front of it, they would learn exactly why. There was an underground volcano going off, and she was a mad one. The shifting water gave Caltin an idea as he kept bringing more and more water in but mixing it with dirt, debris, and muck in with an attempt to, if not plug any lava flows, but redirect them safely either into each other or maybe just maybe block a lava flow or two. The exhaustion was clearly beginning to get to him when he the big man saw the bombs…and began to point.

Location: Jedi Temple Ruins

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

Enemies: Darth Libertas Scylla AI | Team Darkside

Spoiler: Personal effects

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"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)

 

[Erion Justeene]

Location: Jedi Temple - Tython
Objective: Engage Silas the Jedi
Equipment: Lightsaber, Voidsaber, SHT-26 "Bedevil" Heavy War Bike
Allies: BOTM
Enemies: GA
Engaging: Silas Westgard

His return fire did some damage, good. The ground vibrated with the ever-escalating war outside and the weaponised temple. Superious had to duck behind cover, his helmet was dented enough to flare a warning in his HUD, that was a warning about too many headshots could damage the breathing mechanisms and make it hard to breathe, he was able to push all notifications to the backburner. They held nothing of serious note, yet.

He can hold his breath, but even he gets lightheaded when he does. The limitations of his species can be a detriment to stamina once the helmet is removed. He's had many run-ins with Pneumonia during his lifetime. Not one Ubese has ever not gotten it at some point.

The explosive bangs of flying masonry echoed across the ruins and more dust fell, choking the air and making it hazy. The duel is now a game of cat and mouse, a dangerous tactic but a reliable source of respite. It is not cowardice to preserve yourself. Now the Ubese had to make a move, which one to use is a different matter. He can sense Silas closing in, he could lead the Jedi on, box him into somewhere he can't get away from or go with the time-honoured strategy; blast the Lightsider with Lightning. He ran these two options over in his head several times. His mind leaned towards the latter as he did dish out damage several times during the times he did fight Jedi and a Mandalorian.

He needed to make a move as he was going to be discovered, soon small static charges were gathering in his fingers, slowly building enough charge to cause significant pain when released upon the Jedi. There were very few openings, with the way the debris was sitting. The decision was made for him as he sensed danger as more ruins were hurled his way and he had a wildly swinging Lightsaber to factor in too.

He knew there will be a lovely big bruise on his shoulder in the incoming days as he got hit by a grazing blow. He stifled a yelp of pain as he stood on a broken base of a pillar. Range radiating outwards. No more Mr. nice sith. Gathering as much of the Darkside as he could, Superious let loose an arc of Lightning at Silas. He hoped it hit directly or at least caused more stones to drop.

 

[Surea]

"That's not yours, is it?"

An echo of a voice came from Surea's unconscious form. A haze of red rose, from her blood. But it wasn't the Rot. Her hand twitched as another formed around it. The red haze, acting almost like a personal shield around her. The oddest thing, though, was it was clearly of the Force. Yet held no presence, at first. An overwhelming darkness flowed out shortly after the haze formed. An invisible pressure reached out, trying to take hold of Amani's throat.

Then she stood. Surea's body, still very much unconscious, shrouded in a cloak of tattered red. Almost solid and tangible, yet not. The echoing voice of what sounded like an old man spoke from under the red hood that now shrouded her features.

"Why don't you let her leave before you all end up dead."

As if to make his point another volley of missiles launched from the droid piloted shuttle currently attacking Amani's ship. Engines, specifically. Even if they made it out of atmosphere, the droid had no intention of letting them jump from the system.

Kai Bamarri | Amani Serys