So Be It, Jedi; Imperial Confederation Dominion of Tython

[Hansen]

Captain Malys
Tython Surface, Cessea City, Kuligo Nature Reserve
Tags: [member="ST-00/0666"], [member="SC-01/2876"], [member="CT-94194"]
Nearby: [member="CC-15715"], [member="CC-239"]
Objective: #1 Knightfall

​

Lynda presses a palm against the paste-filled hole in her shoulder and inspects the greyish sanguine-flecked material. The helmet had become stifling and so Captain Malys pulled it from their skull dropping it to the forest floor she raised a boot into the air and crushed it in a swift single motion displaying astonishing physical strength that was far in excess of her ostensible height and build, it should have been impossible but alas Captain Malys dismissed that idea handily. "Damn thing was basically broken on impact." Her voice was beginning to compose itself even through the searing burning pain that burnt with a fiery pulse up through her left arm and shoulder. Lynda wearily draws up her G-11F Blaster Rifle up from the magnetically locked thigh-plate on the right leg and held its tightly in a clenched hand with its' barrel hanging beside leg pointing at the green leaf covered rich Tython soil beneath armoured feet. "Sounds like the Jedi and their Army have set up Comlink jammers, Sir." 'Sir' Lynda said it absent a sneer now and maybe even a hint of respect that could be heard on her voice if not seen on face, their visage was locked forever in a pained grimace, whimper or Snarl transitioning between the three phases with the severity of transient pain respectively.

Studying the Clone's face she found the familiar rugged visage worn by all such creatures although Spear's was characterised by a palatable maturity and age that Lynda couldn't help but wordlessly admire, it spoke of experience which was reassuring for Dorn who wasn't so bigoted to spurn a man who might help her in surviving this forsaken mess of an operation gone awry, that was something the war stories always left out, the fear of mortal men and women. Always focusing on the elation of a hard-won triumph that in reality was often very hollow. Lynda met Spear's eyes and found within them a determination to complete that she despite being frightened, shared. The idea she'd let a Clone upstage her was laughable and Lynda shot Spear a wide beaming toothy grin spiting their own burning Pain her thumb notched the safety lever on their rifle to 'fire'. "Sit it out and let you make me look bad?" The question revealed no small measure of her vanity and pride. "Never." Spear had successfully brought out the competitive beast within Lynda, they had made her feel like she had something to prove and even though she would never admit it Lynda felt no small measure of shame for having been caught by surprise even if more competent warriors should have fared no better.

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau
Location: Jedi Temple, Inner Chambers
Objective: Et Tu, Skywalker?
Actions: Located Holocron
Equipment: Data-Pad, ballistic body suit
Attire:

Spoiler: Suit

In any game, Sabacc the most prominent, there at the end of the game all players left had to place their cards down on the table. The accumulation of all their work and bluffs to get to the point of being able to even lay down their cards bare before all those they were competing against. The Jedi had placed down their bets, but Seto never gave any of them the opportunity to ever come out on top. Truth be told my poor Jedi, the game was rigged from the start.

Seto projected his Force shield around Marr and himself, the explosion and the heat sent the nearest to the ground and the rest further away into a dazed sprawled. His hand trumped the table, and now Seto would collect the betting pool that any who had foolishly joined now witnessed as the duo of Marr and Seto ripped it from their grasps. They realized their mistake far too late to rectify and the blur of motion and blonde hair only further drove the final blow of the Confederate Imperial hammer.

Confusion and fear flooding into the Force all around Seto as he slowly lowered his shield, but one of the larger Force signatures completely burnt out as if a gust of wind to a weak candle. The young Du Couteau stepped forward, his hands slowly readied to prepare an attack of his own, but he paused a moment to address his sister's mystifying expression that somehow appeared less apologetic than what Seto figured Marr intended them to be overall.

"Use the saber instead and yes, I remember those shoes so well-" Seto nearly sighed, his exasperation clear on how Marr treated her clothing, "-Such shoes need more deserving ground to step on." He added, the association and intent of the meaning behind his words clear, none here deserved their attention.

The remaining Jedi leaders slowly picked themselves up, but few stood ready for the onslaught of approaching Stormtroopers keen on continuing to their aggressive attack to the best of their ability. Seto lunged forward, past his sister as he spread his hand outwards to generate another Force shield to block and push back a lightsaber attack from one of the remaining Jedi.

Seto wielded more of the Force, his other hand slowly configuring a Force shield but instead of simply projecting around himself, it surrounded the Jedi. Seto clasped his hands together, and willed the Force shield to shrink further around the Jedi Leader, the poor man unable to generate enough strength to push back against the Commissar. The shield continued to shrink and the Jedi unwillingly deactivated his lightsaber lest he sliced himself with his own weapon.

The mission required Seto to quickly find the rest of the artifacts, And now I have someone to tell more. He stepped forward to the Jedi trapped within Seto's Force shield and asked him ". . . There was this specific Holocron, a map of sorts, it appears an Ancient Jedi had attempted an experiment of sorts with mixed results." Seto was hardly in a position to give history lessons but he continued, "-It had a connection between Anaxes and Tython, as well as other Core Worlds. If you'd be so kind as to tell me the location of said Map." Seto demanded.

Anger and fear were useful emotions when Seto needed to assert certain questions without being able to garner truthful answers. The Inquisition had taught him well when interrogating unwilling persons that combined with the Force, they only need to plant the seed of the answer within their head and with a little probing an image or a thought. Seto peered deeply into the Jedi, the Force shield once again shrinking as Seto bore deep into the Jedi's mind.

Ah.

Seto turned and released the shield, the Jedi slumped to the floor from asphyxiation. The young Du Couteau heir quickly moved towards the direction of the holocron. Marr, we do not need the rest of the targets anymore, I got what I need. . . also do take care of your dress, I'll be back momentarily. Seto sent his message telepathically, time was certainly closing in now with the arrival of their reinforcements, so Seto figured he'll give his sister some freedom to complete her part of the mission.

The hallway were not near to calm, as flurry of short battles were raging on but Seto ignored them mostly as he tracked for a certain familiar flame. Seto found the Stormtrooper he had given his lightsabers to and quickly approached the shorter trooper. "Beast, allow me to retrieve my weapons for a mo-" Seto words were caught off as he closed the distance between himself and Beast.

A flash of brilliant blue light nearly removed his arm from his shoulder, Seto ducked low and generated a Force shield to cover himself as the next attack of the lightsaber swung and sparked against the shield before glancing completely off. A Jedi had found Seto to be her most prioritized target, even as countless of other Stormtroopers were storming through and their heavy vehicles making short work of the remaining defenses.

Seto felt the rage within the young Jedi, she most certainly had something against Seto and for a moment the young Du Couteau almost attempted to open dialogue. If he held any belief that time was not an issue, Seto would have parlayed some words with the young Jedi but he had his mission and needed to get himself separated from this particular Jedi.

[member="ST-00/0666"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"]

 

[CC-15715]

CC-15715 “Spear”
Tython Surface, Cessea City.
Tags: [member="ST-00/0666"], [member="SC-01/2876"], [member="CT-94194"]
Nearby: [member="Lynda Dorn"], [member="CC-239"]
Objective: #1 Knightfall

He couldn’t help but smile back at the woman as she became determined to continue on with him and silence the Jedi’s artillery as had always been the plan. “There I was ready to simply take all the glory.” His rifle was checked and held ready as he turned to look around the clearing once more, gaining his position and direction from the sounds of combat now naturally heard rather then filtered through his helmet.

“This way. If we are quiet we will catch them by surprise.” The pair would head into the tree line, thick with undergrowth and plenty of cover even with his armour shining in a natural white. He had started to think on what exactly her story was, for she had managed to survive a blow that would have killed him or any other man for that matter and yet here she was, pained but almost acting as if nothing had ever happened. He fought the temptation to ask her about it, for it wasn’t in his design to mull upon it any further then he was already doing. That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious however.

The trees masked their advance, allowing them to close in on the artillery positions that were maintaining their attack upon the Imperial positions across the sector. A pair of guards found themselves dispatched quietly by Spear and his retractable blade upon his wrist allowing them to get amongst their position unseen by the Jedi Rebels.

He glanced towards Lynda. They had to do this together, and fast.

 

[ARC-94194]

Private CT-94194 - Imperial Stormtrooper Corps​

Equipment: Mark/IX "Katarn" Armour (Krennic-Pattern) - DC-15S Blaster Carbine​

Location: Cessea, Tython​

Status: Objective I - Operation Knightfall​

​

It was a quiet patrol down 5th Street, not much seemed out of place and there weren't any signs of life in the either abandoned or bombed-out buildings around them. Every crumpled form on the ground that they came across, clone or otherwise, was already dead with no hope of return. Their blasters were still shiny and pristine, the clips fully loaded and ready to dispatch any Jedi that they happened upon, except they hadn't, not yet. However, soon enough they arrived at one of the many intersections and found signs of battle, a circle of blasted corpses surrounding a make-shift outpost of sorts with the lifeless bodies of stormtroopers littering the defences.

Corporal Thirty-Three gave the signal for them to investigate, the stormtroopers moving closer to get a better look at the area. Ninety-Four and Ninety-Seven vaulted over the barricades and began scrounging for identification tags on their fallen brothers while Forty-Nine and Oh-Seven moved across from them to the other side. The other half of the section stayed back and secured the perimeter, making sure nothing got the drop on them while they were searching.

A loud snap-hiss prompted Ninety-Four to jump, pivoting around to find Ninety-Seven messing around with a purple-bladed lightsabre. A few laughs were had ahead of a half-hearted warning from the lance before they returned to work. Several seconds of search later and the PFC, Forty-Nine, called both of them over to take a look at something he had found. They did so, their eyes immediately falling on the massive black mark that scorched the durasteel street beneath them. It looked like a thermal detonator went off in the middle of the intersection and killed a good amount of Jedi when it did.

Ninety-Four's vision trailed over the blackened tendrils of the explosion, following them outward until he spotted an interesting object nearby that he walked over to scrutinize. He bent over, reaching out a hand to retrieve a scorched helmet; it was Mark IX, Krennic-Pattern, same as him except with a few differences. There was a pronounced fin at the top of the helmet and a rangefinder added to the side, the helmet of an ARC trooper. The clone put two and two together and realized that this is where the reconnaissance team met their fate, which meant that the enemy that dispatched them could still very well be nearby.

He turned to alert his comrades, but he was met with the sight of slugthrower rounds going straight through the necks of Forty-Five and Sixty-Seven, the carbines clutched in their arms landing on the ground with a clatter, followed by their lifeless bodies.

[member="Lynda Dorn"] | [member="ST-00/0666"] | [member="SC-01/2876"] | [member="CC-15715"] | [member="CC-239"]​

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Private First Class ST-00/0666, “Beast”
Post 4
Objective 2, Et Tu, Skywalker
Equipment: Mk. IX Katarn-Class Battle Armor, w/ JT-12 Jetpack, Liquid Cable Launcher, VB-113 “Tidefall” Class Vibroblade, T-8B Self-Loading Precision Carbine w/ 4x Combat Scope, DC-17 Hand Blaster, 2 Class A Thermal Detonator, 2 Sonic Concussion Grenades, Three Lightsabers, Throwing Knives
Location: Jedi Temple - Main Hall, Tython
[member="Seto Du Couteau"] [member="Marriskcal Lati"]

“Surround them and execute!”

A scene of chaos, blood, and desperation quickly developed in the main hall outside of the council chamber as the stormtrooper task force was beset by a group of Jedi. A mix of blue, green, and purple lightsabers were ignited and slashed through the forms of white durasteel-clad Imperials. With one of her squadmates, Beast surrounded a particularly reckless Jedi who had pushed too far into the Imperial ranks. Although the Jedi managed to block four of the blaster bolts fired from her squadmate, Beast finished him off with an precise barrage of seven polonium-210 rounds which were aimed for the Jedi’s chest. It was overkill for sure, but one could never be too safe with Jedi. With a deep intake of air, Beast sprinted towards the entrance to the council chambers in order to return the lightsabers and set of throwing knives to the two commissars.

She immediately saw Seto and Marr as they moved out of the council chambers, before planting her feet to halt her momentum.

“Commissars, your lightsabers!” Beast grabbed a lightsaber and the throwing knives from her belt and tossed them both to the blonde-haired female commissar. Then, she immediately threw the other two lightsabers to Seto, thinking that he would be able to catch them in mid-air with the Force. However, by the time she had released the lightsabers from her grasp, a Jedi flashed into view and slashed at Seto, while nearly separating his arm from his shoulder in the process.

It was then that Beast saw the outcome of her mistake.

The Jedi reached out through the Force, and pulled both of the lightsabers in mid-air towards her. Beast launched herself into a powerful leap, in order to get the lightsabers back. However, her impressive athleticism was no match for the power of the Force. Since Seto was too focused on protecting himself with the Force to reach for the lightsabers, both of Seto's sabers ended up in the hands of the Jedi.

Acting with a desperation and anger that broiled her veins, Beast sprinted to close the remaining few meters between herself and the Jedi. As she ran, she pulled her vibroblade from its magnetic holster and let a shrill battle cry escape from her lips. Then, she leveled the tip of her vibrosword as she let her forward momentum carry her blade into a thrusting strike which was aimed for the Jedi’s lower torso...

 

[Lin'yao Escala]

Lin'yao Escala
Objective: #4; Catching up with his brother
Location: Star Destroyer, Orbit, Tython
Interacting With: [member="Kou'ha Escala"]
__________ __________ __________ __________

A warm smile tickled the lips of Lin'yao at hearing his brother decide to give it a try, to give him a try, to give him a chance. Lin was accustomed to putting up a fake, strained smile to appease others, he had grown a habit of doing such a thing for years. And yet, it was only in moment's like these, moments with his family members where his true self shone through past the mask of lies and politics, the young and optimistic heir of house Escala shone through to his family, and his family alone. He saw no reason to hide himself from his family. And now, at last, he would be able to try and mend the relationship between him and his brother Kou'ha. His brother was offering him a chance to do so and Lin would take it graciously, though that wasn't a definite that their relationship would mend. Nonetheless, the scion of house Escala would work to try and mend their relationship as best as he could. It would be a hard fought up-hill battle, though even if he failed in mending their relationship, it would be worth the try...at least he would have tried to change something, to fix something.

Lin took the seat opposite of his brother, his arms laying across the armrests with his back straight and neck straight as well, signifying that he was listening to what his brother was saying and would say to him.

"I'm willing to give this a try as well, Kou'ha. And don't worry, no masks or games will be done here, only the truth will be uttered and only true faces shall be worn between us."

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Marriskcal Lati, Civilian
Objective: #2; Et tu, Skywalker?
Equipment: Lightsaber x2 (Cyan & Azure), Throwing Knives, Hairsticks x2, Attire (made from shell spider silk)
Location: Jedi Temple (Council Chamber), Mountain Range, Tython
Interacting with: [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="ST-00/0666"]

​

At the gentle rebuke, Marriskcal averted her gaze away from her brother in a pretense of making a sweep around the chamber, her lips curving into a faint pout. It was not as though she had purposely scuffed that particular pair of shoes! The tunnel was old and dilapidated, filled with dust and dirt. And white was such an easy colour to stain.

A torrent of laser fire began to fill the vast space, the barrage of toxic green light taking down those who were unfortunate enough to be severely wounded or dazed by the explosion from earlier. The blonde watched with keen curiousity as Seto flickered past her, the edges of her long coat fluttering as he moved forward to parry a strike from his chosen victim, trapping the vermin within a sphere of his making.

“Well, it was not like I had a sabre a moment ago,” the young woman reminded Seto, her eyes falling on the lightsaber that was laying in its dead master’s grasp. With a tendril of a thought, the Makashi-styled hilt rose and flew into her hand. There was a slight disturbance in the flow of the Force as the crystal resisted her claim upon it, but as Marriskcal has never once owned a hilt with a crystal that resonated with her, she crushed and suppressed its feeble voice with her will.

In time, it would quiet.

Just like the crystal she has acquired from the Jedi Archivist.

The blonde swivelled on her heels, so that she was guarding her brother’s back from any who was foolish enough to charge through the unrelenting hail of laser in hopes of aiding their trapped comrade. While there was a chance that Seto may need more than one being before he was found the location of the artefact depository, she doubted her brother would mind it very much if she were to tear through a few of the less important beings.

“But now I do~” Marriskcal continued in a joyous lilt, though her cheer was interposed by a soft noise of displeasure when she noticed the beads of crimson that stained the ivory bone and engraved silver of the lightsaber. Even though her hands were protected by the leather gloves she wore, the blonde still held a distaste for the stickiness of blood when it began to congeal. But despite the mild annoyance, there was nothing to done about her own faint need for cleanliness for the time being.

She hummed a jaunty tune, hilt in a light grip as she carefully watched the two remaining council members that were trapped at the far end of the chamber. From the piercing tang of pain and bitter cloud of futility that coloured their aura, Marriskcal knew at least one of them were severely injured and they were both losing hope. Even then, when the thud and clatter of a body hitting the ground reached her ears, the young woman continue to stay vigil. Jedi were tricky little pests, and there was nothing quite like desperation to bring out their hypocrisy.

Mm, I will try my best, she assured her brother with fond exasperation shading her thought. The servants of Du Couteau has mentioned something about… silk? All Marriskcal remembered was that it had some protective qualities to it. It was then that she felt the same flame that she has memorised since their brief conversation back on base. The voice and words that followed made her turn despite the inherent danger still within the hall with her, a sharp smile in place as she caught the familiar set of weaponry in hand. “Thank you, Beast.”

Good hunting, Seto.

With the last of her thoughts conveyed to her brother, the blonde stepped further into the chamber, buckling the holster carrying her hilt and knives back to a thigh. Trusting in Seto, Beast, and the rest of the stormtroopers assigned to the operation to successfully carry out their secondary objective, her blue gaze swept across the ruined Council Chamber for one final time.

As her senses were unfettered, Marriskcal could sense the bright flames of the vermin dissipating one by one as their lives were slowly reaped by the Imperial forces. Her gaze fell to the unconscious male on the ground and with a quick flick of a hand, one of the slim knives buried itself deep in his throat. He probably would not wake in time before the Temple was destroyed by the orbital bombardment, but the young woman was never a believer in leaving loose ends.

With a swift series of hand signals from her, the remnants of the small team that were keeping the two remaining Jedi Masters afar slowly retreated from the hall, rejoining their brethren to hasten the journey towards the artefact depository. Time was swiftly running low, and Marriskcal preferred to be far far away from the Temple before the first of the star destroyer’s lasers cut through the atmosphere.

Unlike the meek veneer she wore when she first entered the chamber, her eyes were narrowed in clear annoyance when the older pair stepped out from behind the debris, their mouth open in an attempt to negotiate or censure. “Raise your blades, Jedi. I am not interested in listening to anything you have to say,” she spoke in a low tone, the hiss of her voice venomous as it flowed over the most hated word of her existence. While she may have abandoned her once Lord and Master, a lifetime worth of learned animosity was difficult to discard.

​

 

[Travis Caalgen]

Director Travis Caalgen - Commissioner Third Class, Imperial Security Bureau​

Starship: INV Silencer, Conqueror-class Star Destroyer​

Location: Tython Gravity Well, Tython System​

Status: Objective III - I Have Become Death​

​

"Oh, it's beautiful."

He was, of course, referencing the impressive explosion that had once been a fully-intact and fully-shielded dreadnought. Most, if not all, of the bridge crew around him were frozen in slack-jawed astonishment, their eyes glued to the very same display of Imperial might. He chuckled lowly, his gaze sweeping over the others as he turned to face the blackened viewscreen that now displayed a crimson bar that was slowly filling: the weapon's recharging cycle.

"That's enough of the theatrics, for now, we have a job to do." Director Caalgen bellowed, snapping his subordinates out of their stupor so they could return to their duties.

He clasped his hands in front of him, black gloves contrasting nicely with his pearly-white ISB uniform. "Target the Jedi Temple on Tython, full power ignition. Countdown at Master Chief Flast's discretion." Travis commanded confidently, watching eagerly as the viewscreen lit up again to show the planet, rotating the celestial body until it stopped over an area plastered with a onyx crosshair. Flight trajectories and optimum ship angles were presented at the corners of the screen, the Silencer lurching slightly when it adjusted to its new heading.

The same mechanical voice of their chief gunnery officer came over the ship intercom, announcing the beginning of the fatal deadline for their friends on the surface.

"The enemy base will be in firing range in twenty minutes."

[member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="ST-00/0666"]​

 

[Hansen]

Captain Malys
Tython Surface, Cessea City, Kuligo Nature Reserve
Tags: [member="ST-00/0666"], [member="SC-01/2876"], [member="CT-94194"]
Nearby: [member="CC-15715"], [member="CC-239"]
Objective: #1 Knightfall

​

In a single clenched fist Lynda hefted a Soldier and his gear high above the ground fingers clasped around his gasping throat slamming the young man straight down into the leaves and soil with a bone-cracking thud before he found any ability to squeal stolen by the weight of Captain Malys' knee obstructing her trachea. It wasn't precisely the image of a skilled fighter but one who possessed immense physical strength. A humming vibroblade thrust through the Mercenary's eye socket and made an audible ting striking a large strong behind his black-hair covered head, Lynda released a relieved sigh followed closely by a rather sadistic smirk. "Nice try, love." It was utterly unnecessary to congratulate a corpse although Lynda, proud of the one-sided dominated melee just had to voice their own conceit and vanity through an undeniably snarky comment.

The soft tissue and muscle meat in Lynda's previously impaled arm had been steadily healing, in-fact the hole that had been left within body by the durasteel stalactite had healed over into an efficient scab at this point hand could form a loose weak fist it was pitiful in strength but visibly progress that should have only followed after submersion into a large cylindrical bacta tank. Crawling along breastplate hugging the moist rich soil closely Lynda used her knees and right elbow to drag her armoured mass along the ground's surface stopping just short of treeline's end beside Spear, her eyes narrowed together tightly inversed circulation of blood through the capillaries in eyes and within frontal lobe provided the ostensibly 'normal' Captain Malys with sight far exceeding what was possible for an evolved predator.

"Looks like it's the two of us against a whole Company worth of Infantry." Lynda intoned in a voice absent concern but equally worrying for some veteran's ears contained tell-tale signs of arrogance and flippancy. "So, it should be an even fight." Malys made an audible disrespectful 'hmm' with her pursed lips examining the fixed positions laid out before them in a grassy clearing within Kuligo Nature Reserve. It honestly wasn't ideal with just the two of them and Lynda gives a pause to think about the two Stormtroopers who Spear sent and never seen again, there was little doubt in her mind the pair of them were dead probably in a crater somewhere wearing their broken Mark IX Katarn Armour. Casualties had been light until the assault on Aurek began with support of the field artillery guns that now found themselves in Lynda and Spear's hungry eyes.

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyli Graf,
Jerrilek Surface, Equatorial Area, Royal Dorat Resort
Objective: #4 Parental Guidance
Tags: [member="Tanomas Graf"]

It couldn't have been a more picturesque scene with the beach's golden sand glistening under the day's light if not necessarily the local sun's rays for the presence of thick rain-clouds hanging low in orbit. Kyli released an unnecessary breath as the sole of foot rolled onto the innumerable brass coloured grains scattered up and down the coast they were warm, not hot and despite those threatening rainclouds. It was an astonishing thing to weakness for the holidayers along the golden coast's length to witness an ostensibly Human Woman wearing a sleeveless top and shorts run more than fifty kilometers an hour even though her feet were visibly being swallowed by the sand about an inch with each feather-light step she took. This was what moderately intensive exercise looked like to a biologically engineered killing machine, a sprint down a five-thousand meter sprint down a gold stretch of beach towards a pier that took Kyli a mere five minutes and twenty-five seconds halting in a skidding of heels as Kyli used them like a ship with incredible momentum might use an anchor, appropriate given the Yachts that bobbed gently upon the waves just off the shore.

A few beads of sweat are flecked across Kyli's pallor which has turned an attractive bronze with a week of sun exposure at the Royal Dorat Resort on Jerrilek. Tanomas had invited his daughter to take some annual leave from work to enjoy time together and despite being so far away from Coruscant Kyli the ever dutiful soldier who had once been content to knowing a life as nothing other than a weapon obliged kindly yet insisted on bringing the most recent case files for prosecutions and investigations she was participating in along with her much to the Chagrin of her Officer Commando, Colonel Wilso of Coruscant Security Force. "Damn pockets, always too small." Kyli cursed her dextrous short fingers attempting to squeeze between the two sheets of fabric before producing a handheld holonet-connected personal chatter device looking upon the rectangle-shaped LCD screen. "Blast it, that was thirty minutes ago. He probably started eating without me, that old Bantha." Kyli's lips split into a brief healthy smile, a small but significant affection for the subject of her comment forced itself onto her voice.

 

[ARC-94194]

Private CT-94194 - Imperial Stormtrooper Corps​

Equipment: Mark/IX "Katarn" Armour (Krennic-Pattern) - DC-15S Blaster Carbine​

Location: Cessea, Tython​

Status: Objective I - Operation Knightfall​

​

Ninety-Four's combat training kicked in not a moment too soon, his mind willing his legs to push off hard against the ground and dive the clone into cover behind the relative safety of makeshift barricades. Time seemed to slow down as adrenaline began to course throughout his body, his vision passing over what felt like a diorama: the remains of two of his squadmates, wisps of smoke trailing over the gaping hole in their necks; the rest of the clones suspended in the air from when they too jumped for cover.

The private flicked his eyes, the display of his helmet responding and activating the thermal vision function. Almost immediately did he notice the moderate amount of mercenaries scattered throughout the building directly across from where he was cowering. "Thermals activated. Multiple hostiles occupy that building, two-hundred forty degrees." He hissed over the comm channel, hoping to at least save the others from suffering a similar fate as the poor lance corporal.

He looked down at the DC-17 carbine still in his arms, his heads-up display taking only a hundredth of a second to show the number of charges in the battery pack. His eyes narrowed as he lifted the weapon upward, following the shaky movements of the azure crosshair until he had set it over the warm silhouette of a hostile. His finger was about to pull back on the trigger when a flutter in his mind told him to duck, a small projectile whizzing through where his head had formerly been.

The clone recovered quickly, pointing his carbine at the fether that had shot at him and not hesitating this time to hook the trigger. A burst of blaster fire erupted from the barrel, racing through the air and pummeling the newly-created corpse of a Trandoshan hireling, the creature careening unceremoniously from its window and hitting the street with a sickening crunch.

A smile tugged at the edges of Ninety-Four's lips.

He had just gotten his first kill.

[member="Lynda Dorn"] | [member="ST-00/0666"] | [member="SC-01/2876"] | [member="CC-15715"] | [member="CC-239"]​

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau
Location: Jedi Temple, Inner Chambers
Objective: Et Tu, Skywalker?
Actions: Located Holocron
Equipment: Data-Pad, ballistic body suit
Attire:

Spoiler: Suit

Seto breathed, his mind focused squarely on the fact that his blades were not by his side or the Trooper's, the lightsabers were being held by the Jedi. The small rise of anger blossomed from his annoyance, the flames grew and the concentration were solely on retrieving his sabers and with both his hands facing outwards he demanded his sabers. The Force welled into a spherical ball in front of the Commissar, for a split moment it formed in front of him and the next it was hurled towards the Jedi.

The Jedi blocked ST-00/0666's shot with both of the lightsabers and Force that aided her in the effort to do so but this allowed Seto to catch the Jedi off guard. The Force energy blasted into her midsection as her hold on the lightsabers faltered and Seto instantly latched the Force onto them and quickly had the sail back into his palms. Seto visibly relaxed, his fingers slowly tensed and coiled around the hilt as he inspected the Jedi for a brief moment, and nodded to ST-00/0666 to finish the kill.

"I need to find a specific artifact, I will trust your ability to put this one down." Seto spoke, his mind turned towards the hallways and further down the stars. He had very little time to find this holocron, unfortunately he would need to leave the Jedi to the others if he were to complete his mission.

Unbeknownst to Seto, he had underestimated the Jedi, she was slowly rising back up as Seto sprinted towards his destination. The Jedi understood that first she needed to finish off the Stormtrooper reinforcements before she could get a clear shot at vengeance at the fleeing Commissar. With sudden surge of strength, renewed life, the Jedi pounced forward and attacked the ST-00/0666 with the lightsaber that had been given to her by her now dead Master.

The teachings of tranquility, and calm crumbled within the Jedi just as her Temple shook with each explosion. The lessons of peaceful mind and focus all blurred by a growing rage that redden her gaze upon the Stormtrooper 'Beast'. The brilliant blue hue of her lightsaber shone as it slashed forward at Beast. While the Jedi had found new strength, a second wind, her body was injured and even a strong wind would do little with sails torn with holes.

Even then of course, a wounded animal was at its most dangerous when cornered to such a desperate state.

[member="ST-00/0666"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"]

 

[Krayn]

Pieces of the temple were in free fall around them both, shifted from their century long watch by the influxes of powers that whirled around the pair. With the Ren’s hold on her against the wall at a point where her body was ready to fail and break, Farifax realised that in order to survive she would have to sacrifice a part of who she was, she would have to let go of everything. Her vows. Her obligations. Her promises to the Jedi Order. And mostly, her memory of the love she once shared. She let go of it all and gave into the Force.

She hit the floor as his hold was dismissed over her and Belis was sent across the floor as a response. He went for his saber, shifting his focus on the Force to reach for his weapon, clearly intending to end this fight quickly; it was in that exact moment that she too reached out with the Force and caught up her own lightsaber, reversing it so that the red blade’s overhand attack upon her was not only blocked but also directed them to hit the wall showering them both in sparks enough to allow her to regain her footing.

The next attack was also blocked with her blade so that it would guide them up and over her head, her lithe form turning and backing out through the entrance of the temple, outside into the trees and the timid mountain air. The once proud Jedi followed, constantly attack her with quick and angered swipes of his lightsaber. She put up a retreat of sorts, moving along a narrow opening between the trees that sat near the pinnacle of the mountain’s cliff edge. She could feel the way that the Force had changed in this place, it reeked of foul death and destruction with that feeling of being on a knife edge. The planet knew something was about to happen and it wasn’t prepared for it.

She let Belis drive at her, guiding his steps as she parried and blocked. He forced her back and back, with strikes of such strength that it seemed to create the shaking she could feel in the very earth under her feet. They both chopped and slashed and parried and blocked, trees fell around them, sending flurries of leaves into the air. This had gone beyond the fight of duty or philosophy, more then the Dark versus the Light. This was her and him. Farifax against Belis. Just the two of them. It was a fight that only one of them would win.

It just came down to who.

She saw an opening, spearing her blade forward but found that he had leant aside and deflected the thrust with simple contempt, she could only watch as his own blade flipped in his grip sat for a moment and then with the grace of a shooting star headed at her torso. In the quickest of reactions she turned her attack and with a shower of sparks cut his lightsaber in two through the hilt. Her spare hand reached out and pushed, throwing him to the ground. She had her moment, time where she could end this facade and allow her safe passage but something staid her hand. A soft hiss released the front-guard of the downed Ren’s helmet, damage to it from the Force blast causing it to cease it’s hiding of the Dark-ones face and with a gasp she came to see what she had feared.

It was still him beneath, the same hair, the same face, the same sweat and tears that it ever had been and she hesitated. There was good in everyone still was there not? A chance at redemption for all. She had believed it once and as she looked down on his beaten body she believed it again.
“I can still save you.” She said quietly, with a great sadness in her voice. The hum of her blade disappearing as it retracted into her hilt. “I have to.”
She moved closer to Belis who had remained quiet on the floor, his breathing hard and laboured. Her attention so caught on his face and the past it offered that she was blind to all else.
“You want to save me?” His words were quiet and almost pleading. Yet his eyes flashed with the molten heat of his inner-anger. “Then you are a fool.”

She realised her mistake to late.
The sudden and fast heat of her lightsaber cut deep into her chest, the hilt held in place not by her hand or his but by his sheer will and control over the Force. She looked down, sighed at he sight and felt her legs give way and send her to the floor.
She went to talk, but couldn’t find the words and as she watched him stand and sink his black gloves around the now abandoned lightsaber on the floor she released a single solitary tear down her cheek. Perhaps he’d notice the irony in his action, or maybe he had been right all along.

Belis was truly dead. Just like her.

 

[ARC-94194]

Private CT-94194 - Imperial Stormtrooper Corps​

Equipment: Mark/IX "Katarn" Armour (Krennic-Pattern) - DC-15S Blaster Carbine​

Location: Cessea, Tython​

Status: Objective I - Operation Knightfall​

​

After the initial rush of killing his first enemy subsided, Ninety-Four quickly outdid himself by adding two more bodies to the count. Two mercs caught a blaster bolt with their bodies and either fell back or out of the window to join the unlucky Trandoshan that had been done in earlier. He could feel his heart pounding against the durasteel shell he called armour, adrenaline still rushing through his veins like ice water, his ragged breath being further amplified by the annunciator in his helmet. The clone saw, through his heads-up display, that his carbine's power pack was empty, prompting him to yank the empty cartridge from the weapon and grab a new one from his belt, his hands shaking as he struggled to push it into the slot.

He got it after a few critical seconds, emerging from cover to be bathed in the glow of a green lightsaber. Ninety-Four instinctively let loose a burst of gunfire, halting the daring Jedi that had rushed his position while the clone was fumbling to reload. The man's corpse collapsed on the barricade, the hood sliding down to reveal a young Mirialan. A dark thought of if he had been even a second late with reloading flew through his mind, convincing him to award another blaster bolt square in the dead Jedi's head..

A few moments passed and the clone started to realize that he was going to run out of power packs for his carbine before he was going to run out of enemies to shoot at. He was even attempting to be conservative, trying to kill his adversaries with no more than two or three bolts, but it was only prolonging the inevitable. Between volleys he scanned the ground around him, his eyes coming across three items of interest: two customized DC-17 hand blasters, and a charred bandolier carrying a single unused thermal detonator. If it wasn't such a serious situation, a light bulb would've appeared above Ninety-Four's head.

His gloved hand gripped the round detonator by its scorched metal, an ominous beeping began when he slid the latch upward. He frankly didn't want to find out what happened when the beeping stopped, lobbing the grenade from his position and towards the building. Accuracy was his speciality, apparently, as evident by the thermal detonator slipping through a window on the second floor and idling for a few seconds before erupting in a fiery inferno, the explosion shattering the glass of nearby buildings. He waited a few seconds after the event, glancing back at the building to see it aflame.

Ninety-Four could've cheered at the absolute state of the carnage, but his eyes caught sight of the vitals of his section near the bottom right of his HUD, a pit forming in his stomach.

It was only him, Thirty-Three, and Ninety-Seven left.

The rest were dead.

 

[ARC-94194]

Private CT-94194 - Imperial Stormtrooper Corps​

Equipment: Mark/IX "Katarn" Armour (Krennic-Pattern) - DC-15S Blaster Carbine​

Location: Cessea, Tython​

Status: Objective I - Operation Knightfall​

​

His blaster ate through the energy stored inside its power pack once again, the clone reaching to his waist to grab another, finding nothing but miscellaneous supplies. He had no power packs or grenades left, the clone quickly reporting it to his remaining allies. He heard the voice of his corporal over the comms and turned just in time to see him throw a pair of spare cells over to him, a glimmer of hope rearing its head until it was snuffed out, just like the corporal with the newly-appearing azure blade impaled through his chest. Ninety-Four froze, his weapon in his hand and the power packs in the other, watching the Jedi move to throw his saber at him only to be shot dead by Ninety-Seven.

Ninety-Four's brother moved to join him behind the barricade, both of them silently attempting to decide how they were to survive the situation their section had found itself in. They weren't given enough time to think, however, as a thermal imploder bounced on the ground in front of them before settling, a deadly sound emitting from the cylindrical device. Ninety-Seven looked at his other half, his helmet cracked enough that his mouth was through the duraplast. Ninety-Four was about to say something when he felt his counterpart harshly shove him away, the battle going silent for a split second as the imploder went off, a loud implosion leaving a ringing in his ear and his once-shiny armour scorched. He weakly turned his head, unable to feel his body, his hazy vision able to make out the charred, but alive, form of his comrade in arms.

He didn't hear or know when the hooded figure appeared inside of their fortifications, looming over the crippled Ninety-Seven. He wasn't going to allow them to kill his brother, though, his hand reaching for his carbine, discovering quickly that the barrel had been shattered from the grenade. He was probably being louder than he intended, for the figure turned around and gazed at him curiously, the being raising an arm in a gesture unknown to the clone. A tight sensation, like a hand, clamped down around his neck prompting him to sputter. His own hand instinctively reached up to grasp at his neck while the other flailed about, trying to feel around for something to hold on to.

[THEME]​

He was dying, his vision was going dark, the world around him spinning. The only thing he felt as he slowly slipped away from life was his fingers wrapping around the grip of a hand blaster, the clone using the last of his energy to level the sights at his attacker and pull the trigger. Immediately the grip around his throat subsided, his vision returning to greet him with the spectacle of a Jedi with a smoking hole in the centre of his head. Ninety-Four gasped, swallowing as much air as his genetically engineered lungs could hold, his arm going limp as the last of his energy escaped him at that moment.

The clone heard footsteps, unfortunately confirming that the battle was far from over for him. If that Jedi wasn't going to kill him, then whatever group was coming to finish him off would. He summoned the last of his insurmountable will, flipping himself over and grabbing the other discarded DC-17 in his off-hand. The footsteps were closer now, a sense of anger rising as he remembered the deaths of all his other brothers and Ninety-Seven's sacrifice so that he could survive. He emerged from cover, dual DC-17 hand blasters ready to kill whatever Jedi or mercenary scum thought they could just walk up and kill him without one last fight.

It was not Jedi nor mercenaries that intruded upon his position, but his very own brothers. An entire company of stormtroopers, their pearly-white armour stained with battle, simultaneously glanced at the lone Ninety-Four with his blasters raised. He let out a pained groan, lowering his weapons as two combat medics approached him alongside the captain of the company. A red-trimmed hand rested on his shoulder, the captain staring at one of the only survivors of Section Cresh. "Shiny no more, trooper. You're a hero." He congratulated, releasing him so that the medics could lead him away, another duo vaulting over the barricade to stabilize Ninety-Seven.

He was too shocked to respond, his gaze firmly affixed to his feet as they shuffled along, quietly inspecting the customized pistols in his hand, one of them carved with the name 'Chief'. The clone medics gently sat him down in the back of a speeder truck, closing the door behind him and allowing him to be alone with his thoughts. Ninety-Four looked out of the grimy window, the sight he was treated to causing his mouth to open slightly.

The speeder truck began to drive away towards the assembly area, allowing Ninety-Four a better view of the makeshift defences he had fought behind for what felt like hours. It was surrounded by dozens of bodies that had attempted to storm the position, each of them having met their end at the hands of his blaster.

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Private First Class ST-00/0666, “Beast”
Post 5
Objective 2, Et Tu, Skywalker?
Equipment: Mk. IX Katarn-Class Battle Armor, w/ JT-12 Jetpack, Liquid Cable Launcher, VB-113 “Tidefall” Class Vibroblade, T-8B Self-Loading Precision Carbine w/ 4x Combat Scope, DC-17 Hand Blaster, 2 Class A Thermal Detonator, 2 Sonic Concussion Grenades
Location: Jedi Temple - Main Hall, Tython
[member="Marriskcal Lati"] [member="Seto Du Couteau"]

“Yes, commissar.” Beast answered curtly, with a hint of relief in her tone after the man successfully retrieved his lightsabers from the Jedi.

However, Beast was given little chance to celebrate the small victory. The Jedi lunged forward with an uncanny amount of speed and explosiveness which far surpassed anything Beast could execute even with her significant natural athleticism. The blue blade of her lightsaber was a blur as it came slashing towards Beast’s midsection, and the short-statured stormtrooper only narrowly managed to block the strike with the electro-plasma filament edge of her vibroblade. Yet more strikes rained down on Beast’s defenses like a hailstorm as the wounded Jedi channeled the Force within her body in an effort to add power and speed to her strikes. After managing to parry a rapid series of slashing attacks, Beast’s defense finally broke when the fiery-blue blade disrupted her armor’s deflector shield and slashed down the left side of her body, shearing off white-durasteel armor before setting alight Beast’s skin on that side.

Beast recoiled back after the strike, feeling the painful sting of charred flesh as she struggled to retain her balance.

The Jedi didn’t hesitate to capitalize on the perceived opportunity. With a harsh battle cry, the Jedi leveraged her blade for a single powerful strike. The blue lightsaber blade collided with the edge of Beast’s vibroblade in a flurry of sparks and plasma. Suddenly, the duel turned into a strength contest, one that Beast knew that she couldn’t win.

In her unending arrogance, the Jedi didn’t sense her opponent’s intentions when the stormtrooper quickly shot a grappling spike into a nearby pillar, dropped her vibroblade, and danced around her like a Kuati ballerina. The monfilament cable twirled, then tightened around the Jedi’s neck like a garrote, and suddenly, she discovered that she could no longer push air through her throat. Seeking to secure her opponent in the anticipated struggle, Beast twisted the cable around the Jedi’s arms and legs as well before tackling her to the ground by the neck as her target thrashed and struggled for breath. Then, as soon as she could find purchase, Beast unholstered her DC-17 hand blaster and shot the Jedi twice in the head.

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Marriskcal Lati, Civilian
Objective: #2; Et tu, Skywalker?
Equipment: Lightsaber x2 (Cyan & Azure), Throwing Knives, Hairsticks x2, Attire (made from shell spider silk)
Location: Jedi Temple (Council Chamber), Mountain Range, Tython
Interacting with: [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="ST-00/0666"]

​

A cruel gleam of pleasure made its way into her eyes as they both stepped into the middle of the hall with their blades alight, their movements slow and cautious. From their silvered hair and deep furrows on their mien, to the pale pallor of their skin and deep red of blood staining their robes, the vaunted Masters were waning. It was clear that even while they were two to her one, the vermin knew they were at a disadvantage.

Marriskcal observed the two older males as they parted, creating a triangle with her standing at its apex. If they thought they would be able to fluster her by an attempt at overwhelming her weaker side, they would find themselves very much mistaken in their beliefs. For her favoured weapons were her vibro-arbir blades and she wielded them exquisitely alike in either hand.

Though they held decades of experience over her, they were severely injured and from the faint tremble of their limbs as they flowed into their forms, the young woman knew they would not last in a battle of attrition. But as they were fast approaching the culmination of their limited time, Marriskcal opted for efficiency over her desire to draw the conflict out.

Even as they both charged towards her with their green and yellow lightsaber raised, the blonde stepped forward, deftly avoiding the downward slash of the green and locking her own blade with the yellow. With a swift flicker of her eyes, a large piece of broken furniture hurtled towards the former even as she removed another knife from her holster. As they were close in proximity, it was easy for Marriskcal to discern the concern yellow-blade held for his trapped comrade.

With a dismissive ‘tsk’, the young woman buried the slim blade into his torso, twisting it cruelly before she dragged it upwards. A guttural howl of pain resounded throughout the room even as warm liquid spilled over her gloves. As the vermin lost his focus at the pain she wrought and his grip on his hilt loosened, the blonde seized the opportunity presented to her.

With her enhanced strength, she struck the yellow lightsaber from his hand, even as she pulled the knife from the jagged wound she carved into his flesh. Changing her grip on the blood-stained blade, Marriskcal lashed out at the hand that were trying to close around her. Taking a step away to place a small distance between them, the azure sabre flashed forward once more, its plasma edge parting head from shoulder.

Third down.

One more to go.

​

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau
Location: Jedi Temple, Inner Chambers
Objective: Et Tu, Skywalker?
Actions: Located Holocron
Equipment: Data-Pad, ballistic body suit
Attire:

Spoiler: Suit

Time, time, time is all I have and so little I have of it.

Seto nearly appeared as a blur with his movement down the hallways, the amplification of speed through the Force was helpful but Seto all the same felt the strain emerge on his concentration. His eyes darted from one corner to the next, even as he leaped down a stairway, the young Du Couteau dared not to slow his pace. The collection of Artifacts was priority, but the complete destruction of the Temple reigned over as the true goal for the Imperial Fleet. The mad dash for the holocron continued, Seto's even breathe strained to remain consistent.

The architecture of the Temple soon turned from marked with blaster fire and rubble littering the floor, to smooth and untouched, signifying Seto was nearing the holocron's room. Seto continued his Force speed, as just a blast of laser fire smashed against the area he only barely passed by, this compelled Seto to further strain himself by generating a Force shield to block the incoming turret fire. The automated systems within the Temple seemed rather insistent that the young Commissar ventured no further to the Holocron's room.

For the love of- Seto dashed between two turrets before he jumped and tossed his ignited lightsabers at the two, only after the explosion heard did Seto use the Force to bring back his sabers. The continued pressure of attacks would had only weighed down on Seto's strain to keep both the Force speed and shield should he had allowed the turrets to continue existing. But, time was consumed and Seto felt himself pressed for more, and more he needed if he couldn't locate the holocron soon.

Another pair of explosions sounded, and the distinctive snap hiss of a lightsaber turning off followed right after as Seto stepped through a recently blown apart door. He had figured that he could save time by Force blasting the doors open but had failed to take into account of the automated defensive system that activated the moment he made the error. Seto sighed and quickly dashed inside the room to find his holocron, You're here, I know it.

The delicate detail used to decorate the holocron gave Seto a moment to pause and admire, the image he had torn from the Jedi's mind to find it certainly paled into comparison with the actual device. His hands beckoned the Force once more and Seto retrieved the Holocron and quickly began to back track and head towards the extraction point.

[member="ST-00/0666"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"]

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Marriskcal Lati, Civilian
Objective: #2; Et tu, Skywalker?
Equipment: Lightsaber x2 (Cyan & Azure), Throwing Knives, Hairsticks x2, Attire (made from shell spider silk)
Location: Jedi Temple (Entrance Hall), Mountain Range, Tython
Interacting with: [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="ST-00/0666"]

​

With the azure blade still ignited, the young woman stepped away from the corpse and the slowly growing pool of crimson that rippled outwards from it, her nose wrinkling as she caught sight of her stained knife and glove. Though she was tempted to discard both, there was still the matter of the last pest…

Marriskcal tilted her head in a thoughtful manner even as she made her way towards the immobilised being, her thumb brushing over the stud. The incandescent glow of plasma dissipated and left the small vicinity between the two subdued as she stood over his struggling form. With his severe injuries from the initial explosion, the presence in the Force was just a merely trickle from what it was before. Barely even enough to strain her own control over the broken desk that continued to press down over his form.

His green lightsaber laid far out of his reach, and with him so weakened, his aura could barely make the hilt twitch. The blonde watched with idle curiousity for a moment as his fingers continued to scrabble against the durasteel surface in a futile attempt to free himself. She thought to speak to the doomed man, but decided it was just a waste of her time. Looking at the bloodied blade in her offhand, Marriskcal flicked it towards the prone man’s throat, echoing her action from before.

Feeling the bright flame of his life ebbing away into the Force, the blonde placed her acquired lightsaber next to her own before she began to remove her stained gloves, tossing them carelessly to the ground. With her objectives completed, Marriskcal knew it was time for her to retreat. While they still had ample time, after the close call back on Skor II, she wanted to be back safely at the base camp before the orbital bombardment began.

Sending another flush of her aura into her limbs, she tore out of the ruined Council Chamber, her steps swift and agile as she sidestepped bodies of both Jedi and stormtroopers alike as she made her way back to the entrance to wait for her brother.

​