Invasion Sword of Reclamation | Galactic Alliance Invasion of Brotherhood-held Empress Teta

[Vesta]

Brave New World​

Location	Royal Palace, Cinnegar
Enemies	Galactic Alliance - Valery Noble
Allies	Brotherhood of the Maw | Alars Keto , Nadja Keto
Equipment	Lightsaber

'The greatest failing of the Jedi order was in making us the monsters of their tall tales, prowling in the dark to prey on those of weaker heart and mind, refusing to believe that we were merely that which they created.'

It was a lesson she had taught her apprentice during their escape from the collapse of an ailing Empire, a moment that relived itself in her mind as she watched Valery Noble try to keep herself alive after discovering the retaliation that came her way had been too much to sweep aside. She wished that their misplaced self-righteousness had been so easily noticed, that their mistakes were not so easily attributed to the victims of their petty squabbles and wars, but the path she was on was a consequence of a galaxy that wanted nothing more than to devour itself - and all the lives of those who lived inside with it. There were no need for eyes to understand the judgment that reflected in the Jedi's, she had felt it burn into her so many times before - so many Jedi, so many Imperials, Sith and all the rest; she didn't hate them for it, they were ignorant to the gravity of her goal, to the mercy that the end she desired could give them.

It wasn't their individual faults that they tried to stop it - order necessitated halting change, especially her change, and it drugged its followers with the addictive comfort of complacency. It was easy to play the part of the monster, to draw the galaxy after her so she could either prove to them that there was no hope for a reality that lived to torture itself or make them realize that their continued struggles would lead to a ruin far worse than the one she had become the harbinger of. What was difficult was bottling up her humanity, making herself a raging behemoth of anger and hate, and working shoulder to shoulder with slavers and murderers who were genuinely awful people. Valery staggered while Mori made peace with the fact that the only container for her emotions had been the mask that had covered her face - it had made it easy to disguise her thoughts with an animalistic urge to simply achieve a singular goal.

She lifted her saber as the woman took her own weapon into a two-handed grip, the rippling features on Mori's face doing little to hide the mental strain it took for her discard her morals and accept the role she had in putting down another ignorant animal. She paid little attention to the temperature in the room as Valery made her approach, cared not for the passion that grew in the Jedi's heart as she honed in on the Sith lord to try to put her down, because drawing the woman towards her was exactly what she wanted - what she needed. It took effort to control her hunger, to direct it towards a single being across a wide range, but she wasn't like Kyrel Ren in that she consumed through conscious thought; his wrath was focused, even if crazed.

The lightsaber swept out towards her, her own crimson blade rising to bat against that violet edge, but the phlegmatic disposition of a Sith that kept to brief staccatos had vanished with the façade that she had arrived in. Her twisted shape, scarred and torn, that was hardly corporeal at all anymore was an omen all its own that the Jedi should have taken the time to understand before she hoped that what had been working before would have been the same solution for the being that she had unmasked. It had been on Rhand that her hunger had consumed her, devoured her very own physical form, and forced her to recreate an existence out of the glass that had been pounded and burned into the sands of the planet's desolate surface in the aftermath of its bombardment by the Southern Systems. In Kyrel there was the urge to consume, to satiate a bloodlust that could not be contained - there was no urge inside of her, nothing inside for there to elicit such a desire.

The color drained from the world around her as her own shaky form grew more vibrant, defined, as a consequence.

She twisted her lightsaber and carved out the air in an effort to slash at the Jedi's wrist, her vision growing ever more, steadily, vivid as rays of light that shone through the tall glass windows and cracks in the door bent towards her. Shadows beneath her vanished while those along the wall stretched and grew, the tiles cracking like brittle glass underfoot as she shifted towards the woman that had drawn out the monster that the galaxy had made for itself, and the force shrieked as it was pulled into her as if she was a living singularity. Her empty hand thrust up and tore tiles from the ground that flew towards the Jedi in ceramic shards while the world around them grew consistently more dim - and the Sith, bright. There was no urge in her to feed, nor desire in her mind or heart to consume: it was she who restrained the violent pull at her center, a woman that existed now as nearly a force of nature on her own - or perhaps a lack thereof. The hunger was absent in her for a simple reason:

She was a void, a wound, in the force itself - what was drawn toward her did so without reason or purpose, without effort or desire.

And if the Jedi wasn't careful she would discover what hid beneath the bright event horizon that illuminated her.

 

[Alicio Organa]

CINNAGAR, EMPRESS TETA
TAGS: Ishani Dinn - Amani Serys ​

There was a second of terrible waiting that Alicio didn't expect. Time enough for Ishani to bark out one last quip, time enough for him to consider what he was doing.

This wasn't like before. In the midst of battle, his killing blow had been instinctual, a moment of passion. This, on the other hand, was deliberate. He was making a choice.

The lightsaber finally burnt a hole through the Sith, and Alicio deactivated it, standing tall once more, and staring down at the body of Ishani.

As she died, he couldn't help but wonder if something in him had died along with her.

He didn't move to hug Amani back immediately, unable to process the contact. But after a moment, he reciprocated, pressing his cheek into hers. But he was still looking at the form sprawled out on the street in shock, grey eyes hard with stony silence.

Despite the stoic look, his voice was warbling, on the verge of breaking into a thousand pieces.

"Let's go. Please."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"You bring a child to fight."

The Dark Lord's scarlet blade crackled against Jax's yellow one, the two beams of plasma screaming as their energies vented out from the point of impact in a cascade of glittering sparks. It was evident that the Dark Lord was physically stronger, but He did not press that advantage for reasons that were beyond Jax's understanding. Perhaps the Dark Lord only wanted to test Jax, perhaps He wanted to toy with His prey before levying the killing blow, but there was no true way of knowing. Carnifex was like slab of stone, shorn of imperfections and giving nothing in terms of intent or desire.

Their stalemate broke when Carnifex pushed against Jax, using that immense strength to momentarily unsettle Jax's stance and potentially cause him to stumble back. The Dark Lord's blade then swung down, catching Dreidi's as it swept in towards His leg. Blades clashed again, but only for a moment before Carnifex severed the connection and launched a series of quick blows meant to disorient and tire the younger apprentice. It was clear that Carnifex was in control of the battle's flow, directing it like one would direct a stream through a channel.

He was one with the Dark Side, and the Dark Side was one with Him.

"Do you think she understands? Could she possible comprehend what powers are at play?" The stoic voice was just barely audible above the sound of striking blades and scuffling boots, the Dark Lord pressing forward with all the inexorable inevitability of a collapsing star. "She does not realize it, neither do you, but you have brought her here to die." A twitch of His fingers, and portions of the cobbled ground behind Dreidi were ripped from their resting place and thrown at high velocity at her back; the impact force more than capable of cracking bone and pulping flesh.

"To rot beneath the graying sun."

Jax Thio | Dreidi Xeraic ​

 

[Darth Wallgof]

Location: Empress Teta, on the ground
Outfit: Beskar armour with tattered robes
Equipment: Lightsaber
Tags: Caltin Vanagor

Controlling the shards with his Lightning, Naga guided them above his head and harmless scattering on the floor. As the strike was blocked as well, Naga growled, this fight was not going the way that Naga wanted it to go. No, he should be dominating, overpowering, destroying this being with a flick of his wrist. He was Naga Sadow, ancient Dark Lord of the Sith. He gripped Wallgof's Lightsaber tightly as his frustrations were boiling up as he knew the longer this fight went on, the more Naga revealed to not be as strong as he boasted to Wallgof when he offered to possess the young explorer fool. No, he needed to win and he needed to win now.

This time, Naga harnessed the full mastery of Djem So. Hard, strong, fast blows on Caltin. His strikes were coming in thick and fast, as he went for a slashing strike, Naga reached out with the Force to crush the leg of Caltin. Naga knew this man could heal quickly, he knew that it was unlikely to work but the plan was simple. Split the focus, multiple attacks were harder to block and Naga was determined to split the focus and find the weaknesses.

Twirling the Lightsaber, Naga took the Lightsaber in both hands and put all of Wallgof's strength into hard slashes, aiming for deep cuts that would do massive damage. Waiting for opportunities to Force Crush another limb if he got the chance.

 

[Thomas Barran]

7th post

THE SWORD OF RECLAMATION: THE INVASION OF EMPRESS TETA
OBJECTIVE: WEATHER THE STORM

BLOODHOUND

=[TRIBAL WARLORD OF THE SCAR HOUNDS]=
=[WARDEN OF RHIGAR AND MAR'ZAMBUL]=
=[FOUNDER OF THE TRI-LUNAR CLIQUE]=

LOADOUT
Beskar Brodie-Helm
Durasteel Cuirass
Fragarach-Model Heavy Disruptor Pistol
Beskar Romphaia
Rusty Old Fairbairn

Darth Mori Keilara Kala'myr Y'sanne Stradd Ardana Vorco
Kyrel Ren Darth Wallgof Ishani Dinn Darth Saevius

Ishida Ashina Caltin Vanagor Starlin Rand Ara Sheridan
Mi'la Undari Jasper Kai'el Amani Serys Alicio Organa

SHRIVEN NO MORE III: MORE REVELATION, MORE PAIN - PART 7

​

THE WESTERN PIER-FRONT, CORAL COAST,
CINNAGAR, EMPRESS TETA (SUMMER OF 877 ABY)

'If you're gonna kill me, just get it ov-'​

'I won't—'

~=Don't dare to die Barran, do you hear me?! I'll be the one to kill you when the day comes! Don't forget this! And Asher didn't choose you to die again this soon. I don't really think Rebirth would be happy about that. Last but not least, you will bring shame on Asher, if you already die, how badly he chose a successor for himself. I assume you don't want that either! And while we're at it, it's your job and your destiny and what my husband wanted you to destroy your father! Not to die against the first Jedi you fight! So pull yourself together and fight!=~​

And so, with Mercy's condemnations and Ishida's refusal, the suffering's true beginnings were well and truly underway, setting into motion the joining of two incredibly powerful minds; and though the Woad and the Atrisian would hold similar reluctances toward the strangest development in their first combative encounter together thusfar, neither were ready for it, and neither would want any part in it under other, less-severe circumstances. But both sides of that vicious paradigmatic coin were bereft of choice in the matter, as Ashla's Arbiter had them both trapped in the judgement, the visualisations and every dreaded sensation hidden within, awaiting for every step they dared to delve beyond the Bloodhound's veil of deathly-repression.

'Not until you get the chance to —'

In his screams of agony, Barran was much too debilitated to notice his nemesis was feeling some of that pain, and gradually more as the moments passed them by; it could only have been caused by the memory they were walking through together, and though the Warlord couldn't see or discern Ashina from the others, he knew Ishida was there still, experiencing agonies both physical and psychological as Thomas relived his final moments in horrifyingly vivid detail. And all the while, as the Atrisian had before in hearing the Woad's telepathic ramblings, the one who was meant to hear would offer more choice words of her own, paining the Bloodhound in ways that only served to compound with those he was already contending with at the time.

~=If you die, I'll find a Sith, drag your soul back into your broken body, and now I'll strangle you for real until you'll die! Again and again and again!=~​

But then the unexpected happened, though it was but a small reprieve that neither Jedi nor Warlord trusted for a second, such that only served to further-magnetise the unfortunate two sides of the coin to the fear Thomas felt on that day in 864 ABY, such that only served to sink their feet deeper into the muddy soil in the detailed damnation of an honest soldier. One who only wished to see his home province again, (much like all the doomed men flitting to and fro around them) and even though the Atrisian and the Woad both knew these men had been dead and memorialised for a long time since then, the way they looked, the way they moved and sounded like resounded and behaved with such clarity it sent the wildest of shivers down the spines of the two warriors - and to such extents that neither Thomas nor Ishida could deny that it all felt so unnervingly real.

[[Thats an orbital bombardment, Barran.... If we get underground, perhaps we can avoid the worst of it.]]​

As far as the eye could see, from one periphery to the next, the darkened horizon would give a pretty show of deathly destruction for the doomed ones, shooting bright red beams of death from orbit as they either backlit or cut through the gloom completely. Shining with the dreaded light of inevitability, gluing the onlookers to the spot as every last explosive impact with the surface thudded with such force the very ground beneath them shook from almost fifteen miles away, the hopelessness would soon begin to set in as soon as the blasts stretched out even further west and east, like a blanket of absolute devastation was spreading out all across the New Adastan frontier - unleashing Hell on Jedi, Imperials and Sith alike as if it was the only sane act to endeavour by then.

And adding insult to injury, all who were present to bear witness knew it to be by the desperate, apathetic design of the very Sith who vowed to protect Ziost in the first place.

Everyone was looking northwards by then, all the operators who were assigned to the Lord-Leftenant in this endeavour, all but a few of the younger riflemen among them - with all the seemingly-distracted ones looking up to the dusty, dark-clouded skies above them at the time.

[[Where though? There's nothing for miles around but rubble an' the outpost o'er yonder, even then - what pieces are there left to pick up after that? We've got Galidraani High-Command an' our lot, Blue-Heart Brigade, the 501st an' all sorts dealin' with that.... We need to move, Denholm. We can still-]]

[[-I think we're too late, Milord.... Was an honour serving with ya, lads. Make your peace while you still can.]]

[[Markham, no! We can still make it if we-]]​

Men were kneeling in prayer by then, like some nightmarish mass hallucination had taken hold and Barran couldn't snap them out, setting otherwise obstinate men to accept their fates whilst the helpless looked on in abject horror. It was here where their fates would be decided, and though their service with the Fighting First had been more than exemplary until then, nothing would save them out there; destined to die horribly, amongst the rubble of a city that once was, trapped in the open without any hope of a way out. Those who were unwilling to die gracefully, brave though they had been to stay for as long as they had, eventually started to break ranks and run for whatever cover they thought would hold against such destructive power, unleashing the panic on all the others around them as the bombardment began to draw southwards towards them.

All hope evaporated like rainwater on a desert trail in these moments, and there was nothing that Barran could do to stop it, watching on with maddened tears in his eyes as he watched his friends breaking under the pressure of the worst possible outcome. One by one, the weakest wills among them broke and fled whilst the kneeling stoics held their heads high with arms aloft in prayer, leaving the Lord-Leftenant alone with those who would not hear his pleas for reason and the survival of those he would have moved mountains to protect - alone with the horrors who set the others off to begin with.

Alone with the inevitable, alone with the truth.

[[For Lord Barran, Lord Tal, and Tavlar - Imperator! WE BLED FOR THE NEW ORDER!!!!]]
[[For Lord Barran, Lord Tal, and Tavlar - Imperator! WE BLED FOR THE NEW ORDER!!!!]]
[[For Lord Barran, Lord Tal, and Tavlar - Imperator! WE BLED FOR THE NEW ORDER!!!!]]
[[For Lord Barran, Lord Tal, and Tavlar - Imperator! WE BLED FOR THE NEW ORDER!!!!]]
​

Then, within moments, the bright red of the dread from above would appear, reaching over miles of downward barrages from miles upon miles beyond the planet's atmosphere, raining apocalyptic death on those who were still fleeing their defensive perch at the time. The inevitable, as much as the panicked riflemen dug and burrowed their way into the faux-comfort of futility, was finally upon them, and the truest of all tragedies were only just beyond perch by the time the Woad instinctively moved to protect the nearest of those who remained.

[[Oh, Dia.... TAKE COVER-]]​

Atomised by the full force of the next blasts, the teary-eyed Thomas watched on as the orbital bombardment tore the souls of his friends from the comfort of life itself, shielding the body of his best sniper as he roared with all his might against the forlorn rage that beset his breaking heart. Forced to watch as the next blast rendered the acquiescent ones into nought but a writhing, shrill-voiced screaming mass of burning mess of limbs and melting flesh. Then all of a sudden, the Warlord felt that all-too-familiar burning sensation on his face, hearing the screams of the one he was shielding before Thomas himself finally reacted to the excruciating agonies of his own demise, leaving both Barran and Ishida to scream their silent screams as the world around them finally dematerialised from fiery rubble to wet sand once more.

The only thing that remained from before, the only part of it all to travel through time and the veil of his mind, as much as it seemed irrelevant to both warriors by then, were the horror-struck, grief-addled tears of the Woad. Made translucent pink by the combination of tears and blood, the glow of the moon above seemed to cast a glow on his misery, much like it was on the cathartic Atrisian's pale, silvery hair, painting a strange picture of morbid serenity - like the last of two summer leaves to succumb to autumn's cruel, though colourful embrace.

~=Damn it Barran! I'm an agent, not a warlord! You will take them home, not me!=~

~=You'd be a fool to believe that, Mercy.... But still, I understand.=~​

The final blow, the last nail in the coffin, the words of the one he couldn't protect in the end, the one he promised and failed in his attempt to hold himself to it. Making it worse, in all he thought he knew of the tribe's Matriarch, was the revelation that Mercy had been an agent of their enemies the entire time, casting the Bloodhound's morale to it's lowest point. By this point, Barran was beyond ready to be put out of his misery, taking one last look at his nemesis as she started driving the glowing, mutating katana-blade into his flesh.

'Good.... Now do your duty.'

But something else happened, an encore of the unexpected, in fight that contained a slew of it already.

Ashla's Arbiter, the Sword of Judgement, as assured as both warriors were of the defeated one's impending demise, was seemingly acting uncooperatively; and as the victor tried with all her might and resolve to finish the job, the sword (and what felt like the whole world around them) would flash black and white, over and over and over again, suddenly indecisive as to what the Bloodhound's truest self was, confused as to where the Woad's soul was destined to walk. A fine line it must have appeared to be, with Thomas perceived as being in position to dance between Dark and Light with a neutralist two-step of impunity, but there was more to the latest development, such that neither Barran nor Ashina could comprehend enough to articulate properly.

'DAMNIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!'

Whatever was happening, there were still parts of the Woad and the Atrisian that knew the great decider was nigh at hand, but as for what choice was made, neither would have a hand or an influence in the Judgement Sword's final decision. Far out of their hands though it would be, both Thomas and Ishida still knew that the outcome and the following sequence of events would shape the war for years after that night, though the fact Ashla's Arbiter was taking so long to decide was no doubt making seconds feel like hours, and especially by the time the black and white flash reached what felt like the pinnacle of it's quickening momentum.

But all they could do was wait, no matter how aggressively they tried to push neck and hilt closer together, as the waiting part would always be most difficult near the end, much like it was for Death Row inmates on Presfbelt IV.

 

[Donne Toulemonde]

TAG: Dagon Kaze

She cursed inwardly, throwing herself backwards to avoid the total weight of his foot as he kicked with ferocity. She threw her arms backwards, trying to balance herself as she caught his assault, sabres clashing in a shower of sparks. She parried, desperately trying to gain respite from the attack, lest she took a direct hit to her front. He was a talented blades-man. Donne had to keep her wits about her to survive the initial dive into direct combat.

She swooshed his blade aside, her hand lurching forward as quickly as she could muster to tackle him with a push, hoping to catch him off his guard. She moved forward, beginning her own advance against him, digging in and grunting with frustration as they took each other's assaults in their stride.

She tucked away, launching herself away from his attacks, hoping to take a view in of the battlefield. She stood, breathing heavily. She laughed to herself.

"Are you always this angry or was it something I said?"

She reached out with the Force, feeling to see if she could sense his state of mind.

 

[Dyans Keto]

Post: 5
Location: Throne Room, Royal Palace, Cinnegar
Objective: See Me in My Crown
Equipment: Gold and Black Krath holy battle Suit | Blood Blade (Dagger) | Krath Dire Sword | x2 Stiletto knives | Crown
Allies: BotM | Darth Mori | Nadja Keto | Alars Keto | Donne Toulemonde | Darth Wallgof
Enemies: Galactic Alliance | Gwyneira Vizsla | Valery Noble | Ronval Rubat | Ariana Du Couteau | Dagon Kaze | Caltin Vanagor
Tags: Ronval Rubat | Ariana Du Couteau

Spoiler: Bodygaurds

x20 Personal Guard in Heavy Gold Mandalorian Armor armed with Krath Double swords
x2 Death Witches

---

Once more her emerald stone gaze had returned to the doors of the throne room, waiting for the enemies at the gate. She could feel the death around her as Maw and Krath made there way to the exits trying to leave the fortress anyway they could. Both GA and Maw blood was spilled and mingled on the on the floor of the palace and the grounds outside. They ran together first as trickles forming quickly into small streams. The smell of blood began to permeate the air all around the Palace and it's smell even made its way to Dyans senses. The hunger in her began stir at the smell as she waited ever so patiently.


Her two Witches found themselves going down corridor that was rarely used in the Palace which would lead them to one of many studies in Palace. They began to lock and barricade the door to the study behind them. The shots grew louder, and battle began to enter the Palace itself. The Witches looked to each other with a nod knowing their jobs they began to take a place on the floor of the study. One began to focus and call out with the force to all it's fellow witches and warlocks calling them to surround the Palace and begin forming a force chain. The Other Witch reached out with the force and let the force to start flowing through them.


The Death Witches and warlock across Cinnegar felt the call and quickly began to finish up their engagements. They knew that heeding the Empresses call was their priority though they did not know yet fully what was going to be asked of them this day. As some began to reach the Palace, they saw Maw forces retreating from the Palace and moving to other battle grounds in the city. This caused curious glances between those who had made it to the Palace first as they started to link to create a force chain around the Palace as they were instructed. Due to the fleeing Maw causing Chaos for the moment the small group of Gathered had so far had gone unnoticed.


Some maw chose to stay as the call went out for them to retreat. It wasn't kept a secret as now alarms for retreat started go off inside the Palace and around the Palace grounds. All around one who could feel through the force could sense all the carnage and death. Then tinge of dread that something was coming, a greater storm was approaching. Even as parts of the Palace started collapsing because Valery Noble and Darth Mori waged on. Even as the skies were lit up from battles going on in the heavens a looming dread hung in the air. The Empress sat on her throne the crown of her ancestors sat on her head. She sat up straight and poised herself like an Empress waiting to receive her guests.

 

[Tren Chaar]

F A R P

FORWARD LANDING ZONE // EMPRESS TETA

ARMOUR | CARBINE | SECONDARY​

---

---

Revenant Squadron Leader: CDR Tren Chaar Four: FO Shar Sieu Six: FLT Mylo Thorne Ten: CPT Qellene Tyliame Brotherhood of the Maw Open Spoiler: Summary -Revenant prepare to move to their next position - Chaar checks how Qellene is holding up

Chaar returned his macrobinculars to his webbing and began clambering down from the twisted pile of rubble that had served as his overwatch position. The battle raging around them was proceeding according to plan, with Alliance armoured forces rolling across the scared Empress Tetan landscape and pushing the Maw defenders back closer to Cinnagar. The close air support offered by the Alliance Starfighter Corps was the point of difference. With the Maw TIEs blasted or chased away, the Alliance owned the sky and could deliver accurate bombing runs to support the Alliance’s push. Even the most strongly fortified enemy positions stood little chance against the bomblet generators of the Alliance starfighters.

This sector would soon be freed from the clutches of the enemy. While he would much prefer to have been in the cockpit racking up kills, Chaar’s mind was already turning to his after-action report, and how he could spin a tale that would earn the pilots of Relevant Squadron praise and accolades for their role in the liberation of Empress Tata.

Qellene approached him just as their first resupply arrived - a trio of Y-wings running low on fuel and proton bomblets. Starfighter Corps technicians hurried to the starbombers and tethered them to refuelling lines while fresh armaments were quickly loaded. Qellene asked how long Revenant would be holding the position.

“The Thirty-First is pushing to Waypoint Senth ahead of schedule,” Chaar explained. He activated a wrist-mounted holo to show her the positions of nearby forces. “Once they secure the sector we can link up with the forward elements. The Techs can handle it from here.” There was no glory to be had holding the forward arming and refuelling point now it was behind friendly lines. Chaar had put a request into High Command to have Revenant attached to the forces encircling Cinnagar to act as forward air controllers. Few people on the field knew the capabilities of the Alliance starfighters better than his pilots. Calling in precision air strikes on high-value targets would be looked upon favourably by their superiors.

Chaar ducked behind cover as blaster bolts pepped the refuelling point. A low-lying X-wing skimmed over the battlefield and blasted the approaching Maw forces. It seemed there were still a few enemies scattered around the area.

The Umbaran got back to his feet and turned to Qellene. “Cap’n, are you squared away?” Chaar asked bluntly, his expression hidden beneath his helmet. He needed to know that his deputy would keep it together once things started heating up.

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom | Anonymous
Mongrel's Shadow and his widow; Matriarch of the Scar Hounds Tribe; Guardian of Mongrel's armour and sword​

Objective: Help the Maw forces with intelligence information | Continue to rebuild the mental defences and the mind palace.
Location: Capital City, Empress Teta
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Special tags: Rebirth (as Kallan) | Thomas Barran

[ Come back… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
​

~ Mercy ~
~ You know you can read a normal book, right? Something given by MANIAC that is not incomplete. The same is true for newspapers, or even the news. AI can download anything you want into our minds. No more relying on memories, even though I know it's good practice. ~ I told him kindly.

I was getting better at not thinking of him as Asher; after so many years of seeing them as one. Rather, I tried to treat him like Asher's brother, his twin to be exact. That made it easier to accept that he was not my husband. It is very similar to it in many ways, but there are also many changes. Just like the twins. The fact that he looks the same, sounds the same and moves the same, in a lot of cases helped a little. It made my heart break less every time I looked at him and talked to him.

And MANIAC and the biochip, another thing I owed to Nite. I got it after Mordaen recruited me at home, on Serenno. After the promotion, I no longer have to report to him. That's what the man said, but it wasn't relevant to Kallan. Even Asher didn't know much about Mordaen. As for me neither, he was just always nice with me and an illegal speeder racer. And noble of course, on Nelvaan; now on Kalidan or Terraris I think.

I nodded at Kallan's words; yes, I knew what he wanted, what he longed, but I was unable to do it. I couldn't do that.

~ I have to keep up appearances so I don't look weak. And maybe they can help keep the children safe after their birth. ~ I told him. ~ In a world where Asher and I lived a lifetime by each other's side… Nite was the reason I couldn't let go of the past. Because I rose to high rank in the organisation and secretly held a leadership position. That's how I was able to take care of you, Keilara, your kids, Asher and the twins. That's how I was able to give him the life that he can let go of the past so that he doesn't have to fight anymore. So that the ghosts of the past do not haunt him. I wasn't on active duty, because I was a boss, but that still made me an agent behind the scenes… ~

I took a deep breath.

~ Then I'll accept it, for everyone's sake. ~ I told him.

I didn't even wait for him to say something, instead I disappeared from the mind palace, retreating to the outside. In my mind, things can happen much faster, so it was just a few moments, a few seconds; like I was really just thinking. I was about to answer when I heard Barran's voice again.

~=You'd be a fool to believe that, Mercy.... But still, I understand.=~

~ Yes, I am, because I fell in love with Asher, but I haven't regretted it for a single moment… ~ I told him and snarled in thought.

Yes, maybe I was really stupid, I looked back at the soldier, I have yet to tell him my answer.

"I accept the promotion and thank you for the opportunity!" I told him.

"Then the extra training will start soon, part of it will not be hindered by your condition, the rest later."

Extra training? Actually, it was expected…

"All right, but I have to go now, there's a war to be fought and win…"

The man just nodded in understanding, and I started running in the direction where Barran was.

~ Hang in there Barran, I'm coming for you... even though you don't deserve it and it's not my job! And I won't die for you! ~ he wasn't Asher…

~ Keilara ~
The other thing that was important for the shields to be perfect was that it would then be possible to completely shut out the outside world. It was a battle outside now, so Kallan didn't even try to come after me to help. It was easier for me to bear this, I grew up in this. He is not. He had a more fortunate childhood and younger years. We really didn't know anything but this. I probably wouldn't have chosen that kind of life if I had the choice. The first half of Kallan's life was calmer. When the Maw abducted him, he was as old as I am now.

We weren't even eighteen when Carlac happened. It was a pretty messed up world. I don't even know if there was a place where everything was calm or where all wars were avoided. I also felt that Mercy was here for a short time. I don't know what he wanted, I didn't ask. If they want to, they will tell you. Until then, I'll be working on building walls and shields. I wanted Kallan to feel at home as soon as possible.

We always had to fight a lot for it, to fight for that he wouldn't perceive anything from the outside world. I was hoping that it might actually happen soon. It will, we just had to patch the walls. After that, he will be able to decide when he wants to "see" the outside world and when he doesn't. Which is much more convenient. Until then, he was now at home, it was the safest and most protective point.

Meanwhile, another row of bricks was placed in its place, the gap on the wall of the mind palace, that is, on the shield, became even smaller. Another small step towards making Kallan feel better and comfortable. And this is worth all the work and fatigue for me.

 

[Anja Doreva]

ALLIES: BOTM
ENEMIES: GA | NJO
ENGAGING: Sol'yan
GEAR: In bio

SWEET DREAMS​

"It's just business, darling."

The Lady of Conquest smiled as she pulled the phrik blade from the Alliance trooper's chest. As he slumped to the ground, Danika looked around. "Are we even slightly closer or are we limited to hacking down soldiers?" she asked as she looked over at Samron.
"We still have a bit to go, Mistress." The Falleen said.
"Exciting." Danika said sarcastically.

She was just about to make a further quote when she felt a sudden shift in the Nether. The veil was being altered - from within. The Herald of Death froze in her tracks, mind racing.
"My Lady?" Samron asked, his tall frame turning to regard her while the rest of the Hellions fanned out in a defensive perimeter.
Eventually, Danika's teal eyes turned to him. "There's someone I need to find next door, Samron." she said, all jest gone from her face and voice.

The Falleen was speechless for a moment. He knew what it meant.
"What do you need from us, Mistress?" he finally asked.
"Head back to the Fortuna. I'll meet you there when I'm done." she said.
"Don't do something stupid, Danika." Samron grumbled to her before nodding. "We'll stay until you are gone."

Danika wordlessly rested a hand on his upper arm for a moment before stepping away from him...

...and beyond the veil completely.

To the Lady of Bone, it was like stepping into the next room instead of a completely different plane of non-existence. The whispers she usually heard became wails or talks. The shadows became clear.

And the Feeorin's trail shone like a beacon.

"ARA!"

Traveling through the Nether was not the same as the corporeal plane. Time did not exist. But she found her quarry in front of the citadel. She had almost forgotten about the Jedi she had sent here all those months ago. A fly swatted away.

Only to start buzzing in the corner.

"You learn quickly." Her voice echoed with the sound of a thousand souls as she spoke behind him.

"Impressive yet futile."

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

"True Courage is to stand against evil, even when we stand alone." ― Richard C. Edgley​

Still falling back on old tricks.

Clearly this foe, neither of them, thought much of him.

He could do one of two things. Caltin could be angered by this and push himself to press the attack. The other option would be for the big man to simply press on and outlast this DarkSider. There are jokes that the man could take a stick and smack an asteroid out of the atmosphere. This is known. However there is the lesser known blessing of the big man’s pacing, he prided himself often on how long he could last in a fight. Yeah, he could get into his head like few others; his loquacious attacks made him legendary. One thing that the massive Jedi Master could do was tune out others when it came to a fight.

He did not look like it; a fact that the big man embraced, but Vanagor could finesse a lightsaber. A master of Djem So himself, of Soresu, Shii Cho. The massive Jedi Master was a master of those but proficient in Makashi as well, Ataru, Niman, and JuYo(moreso Vaapad), he knew Jar’Kai quite well, “Form Zero.” This was the life of not a “Super Jedi” or anything; but a Jedi Knight (at the time) so determined to never be caught “off guard” that he learned more than he needed to. He may have been little more than a spirit for a long time, but Sadow could fight with a lightsaber like nobody's business. His attacks were swift, crisp and flawless, but Caltin could see them coming.

MOTHER! GRRR ... Padawan move you idiot…

The grab for his leg was a surprise, but before Sadow could get any real grip or do any true damage, Vanagor threw a right hook at the Sith Lord’s head, almost an uppercut really. He could pull two attacks as well. Only his attacks were meant to push the possessed Sith towards the palace. Foot by foot… inch by inch… Caltin was going to get this Sith Lord inside… Why?

That’s for him to know right now.

One other thing he could do was emanate an aura of blinding light. Slowly; more and more the big man could use this to kill Sadow’s focus. It would be like he was staring into the sun.
Tags Allies: TEAM LIGHTSIDE! / Anyone wanting to interact! Coren Starchaser (You’ll see why )
Tags Foes: @Darth Wallgof Dyans Keto / 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)
Sanctuary Island

 

[Mi'la Undari]

Ashes to Ashes

Location: Cinnegar
Tags: Enemies: Kyrel Ren Kybo Ren Allies: Jasper Kai'el

Spoiler: Currently Equipped

Tython Sentinel Robes
Omi-Tool Arm (Right Arm)
Prosthetic Lekku
Numa Class Headdress

She was in agony, the smell of her own flesh burning stung in her nose, and the searing pain had gone into a numbing agony that made her lose sense of where her limbs were. All that remained of her focus, was on bringing this building down, her connections to those around her throbbing in violent pain, though the small trickle of life still pulsed through those ties. Her screams had stopped, either her voice had given out, or she was finally gone, but whatever the case, her assault continued. The building buckled, fire engulfing the building, as the building began to buckle and give, raining chunks of metal and rock down from above. Mi'la gave one last burst, rearing up on her knees, arms raising upwards, as a violent burst of the Force rippled out. Again, it seemed to devouring the lightning, consuming it, and seeming to push back the flames that threatened to engulf herself and Kyrel.

Mi'la's burnt body hit the ground, having no more energy to give, no more to give out. Smoldering, seemingly unmoving, she hit the floor. Her body trembled as the structure began to give way. Still however, her bonds with others seemed to remain intact, seemingly she wasn't yet dead. Regardless, any life, any fight that might have still been within her, was snuffed out. Smoldering robes, burnt flesh, and frayed wires composed her form now. The fires that were raging about the buckling factory now, as well as the rubble that rained down from above.

Regardless, Mi'la laid still, unflinching. She had nothing more to give.

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Cinnegar
Enemies: Kybo Ren , Kyrel Ren
Allies: Mi'la Undari ​

A wave of agony overcame the exile, something like he had never felt before. A hollow scream radiated through the air, shattering Jasper to his very core. Why he was feeling these things he could not explain, but somehow he knew it had to be Master Undari. Perhaps they had formed a connection in their brief interactions? He didn’t know why he thought this, but it felt right… and it burned.

Jasper couldn’t wait any longer. He discarded his flask, returning his lightsaber to his belt. The exile let himself fall to the floor, laying his soot-covered body against the dusty ground. With only two arms and a newfound determination, Jasper clawed at the earth before him. If he couldn’t walk, crawling would have to do.

It was all he had left.

 

[Valery Noble]

Outfit | Weapon | Appearance

Location: Empress Teta
Objective: Ashes to Ashes
Other tags: Dyans Keto
Post: #7

With teeth gritted and blades of plasma lashing out at each other violently, Valery stepped further into the dark void, embraced only by the Light of the Force and her own devotion to her mission. She felt no fear or hesitation, no regrets about the path she had chosen. Her battle with the Dark Voice had revealed and unleashed the terror within Darth Mori, but Valery had found inner peace within the darkness that surrounded her completely. She knew what her purpose was, and even as light and reality around her warped, siphoned in without purpose or hunger by the void, she stood against it as a paragon of the Jedi.

With the revelation of what was no longer contained and controlled, Valery knew that she wasn't going to bring Mori down. Not here, and definitely not now. Her own life was at higher risk to be lost, but until she was certain her allies could secure the planet, she forced herself to endure and to keep fighting. To keep learning so that when they inevitably encountered each other again, it would hopefully be an entirely different clash. Valery had never truly believed in destiny for herself or others, but the pull she felt to grow, adapt and set out a path for herself to confront this darkness again was stronger than anything she had felt before. No rivalry from the past or present could truly compare.

Color faded, shadows were swallowed and as the unrecognizable form began to shine, Valery felt danger pulsing through the Force once again - a warning of what was to come, but what she could not avoid. With a series of quick parries, she shielded her wrist and thereby her life, but the onslaught went far beyond the woman's skills with the blade. The ground underneath them both cracked, and pillars supporting the roof above them shattered under the immense pressure of their powers colliding. With a hand lifted, debris was weaponized and in response, Valery projected a barrier to pulverize the majority of it, but larger chunks were only reduced in size enough to cause pain, but no lethal injuries.

Come on then...

Valery drew in a series of deep breaths, and as she did, it was as if the air around them trembled along with her rhythm, increasing in intensity as the Force began to build up within her core. Her fiery eyes stared directly into the center of the void and with just her glare, she manipulated the currents around them enough to ignite the air and set ablaze the Palace decor in a circular pattern around the Sith Lord. Her left hand then finally balled into a fist to physically guide the flames into a tsunami of hot air, and send it crashing down against the already deformed monster.

The Alliance and Jedi were fighting hard to control this planet, and until they had completed their mission, Valery would be the one light within the void to keep it at bay.

Darth Mori ​

 

[Kyrel Ren]

​

Location: Cinnegar, Generator Room
Allies: Kybo Ren
Enemies: Mi'la Undari Jasper Kai'el
Equipment: The Hunger, Kyrel's Armor, Necrochasis, Lightsaber



Kyrel watched gleefully as her skin was scorched from the violent crimson energies raining down upon her. Her screams fueled the Hunger, her pain causing its Sith runes to flash. “That’s it… it will all be over soon.” Kyrel said with a sadistic grin. Feeding off of her pain, off what she valued as strength proved to be her folly. With her pain the Hunger absorbed it. Sustaining itself with the violent energy alone, even as everything seemed to crumble around him Kyrel didn’t care. He found too much satisfaction in the moment.

The flames whipped and howled. All of which had threatened to consume them both. Even so Kyrel stood unafraid. He was too engrossed in the creation he was making, turning her purple colored skin into a burnt work of art. He wanted to leave something permanent embedded into her very form, in a way he desired to make him as monstrous as him. Disfiguring her in a way. He was so engrossed in his work, he failed to pay much attention to the twisted chunks of rock and metal that fell in increased intensity.

Soon her screams were silenced after lashing out. His eyes widened as she took the agonizing kiss of the Hunger. She turned its energies inward as if to absorb it. He glared with curiousity and shock, and still her skin her robes were scorched. The energy pushing back in a shockwave threatening to knock him back. The wind pushed the flames back, the structural instability only grew worse. Using the Force he kept his stand and remained stonewalled. This woman was the first victim of his Hunger, the unruly beast snarled in his grasp. Displeased that it broke off it’s violent mauling of the Jedi. The weapon seemed to heel under its Master, working in tandem with its wielder.

He watched the woman’s body fall into the wrapping of wires. She looked barely recognizable, although he still sensed she was still alive. It appeared as if he couldn’t outright kill her through the extension of his arm alone. Unfortunately he was so carefully focused on her scorched form, he failed to notice the building started to give way. The cracks finally buckled and soon the entire ceiling fell around them. Soon heavy pieces of rock started to descend on both of the Wounds. The biggest chunks of rubble threatened to bury them both. Kyrel reached out with his rage to enhance him. Gritting his teeth holding back several pieces, for all his strength could he hold it all back. He growled looking back to her unconscious form. “You don’t get to win that easily…” He said imagining the triumphant smile appearing on her face at how this transpired.

He grunted as it came crashing down around them. The Hunger screeched as all the light seemed to fade. The chunks went from a simply few to being held back by the dozen. The Wrath demonstrated skill, and with the strain of holding back an entire factory like building. He heard a voice whisper to him. Slowly his eyes fell back, and the Devourer felt unlike himself. Soon he let go of the struggle, letting it all go as the loud thud of rubble crashing against them increased into a crescendo. Soon there was nothing but silence and darkness.

 

[Ariana Du Couteau]

Ariana Du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Empress Teta, Resistance Hide-out
Action: Assaulting the Throne Room
Outfit

Ariana calmed herself, taking in a deep breath to allow her senses stretch outwards once more, a technique practiced with her father years ago. The returning sense of calm and coolness allowed her a moment to take stock of the situation around her. The sounds of battle filled the hallways around her, even worse yet the violent removal of life at such a scale was nearly suffocating. Ariana clenched her fists ever so tightly as she quickly began to run back to the Alliance lines being fought in the Palace.

Reaching towards the rest of her allies, she noted the several corpses of resistance fighters she had charged in with only minutes earlier. Steeling herself, she turned her attention back to Rusty who approached with a request.

“I should be the one asking you to allow me to help.” She responded with a single nod of approval to his request. “I’ll strike first and focus on any remaining Dark Siders that still reside in the main throne room. I cannot guarantee you any degree of protection past being a brightly lit target to distract other Maw and Krath forces.” She added.

Tightening her bandages that covered her arms and hands, Ariana concentrated and redoubled her efforts to keep herself calm and connected to the Force. Attacking regular beings with limited connection to the Force was hardly much to be proud of, no, it was something to be humbled by if anything else. The ability to wield the Force was a grand and arduous duty she had to train and practice. She eyed the larger ruined hallway that lead directly towards the Throne room, clenching her fist Ariana readied herself.

“On my mark.” She spoke, turning her head to face Rusty and back around towards the rest of the gathered Resistance fighters.

Her fists and forearms began to glow with white hot embers, flickers of a Force shield appeared all around her. Ariana’s countenance clearly showed signs of struggle to keep both Force abilities up; her brow furrowed and eyes filled with determination to grapple with the strain as sweat began to roll down the sides of her face.

Moving forward with at first a walking pace, she slowly built up her momentum to a slow run before slamming her Force shield directly into the barricaded doors. Ariana quickly followed it up with both her fists smashing into the metal doors and robbing what was left of their integrity. The doors slammed inward and were thrown on either side with a loud thud. Seeing a pair of stunned Krath soldiers, she quickly jumped forward and attacked the two. Delivering a left uppercut, combined with her momentum from the jump, she felt the Krath guard lift up before plummeting back down to the ground unmoving.

Ariana ducked and weaved towards the second guard and instead of another uppercut, she delivered a straight right jab followed almost instantly by a left hook to the Krath’s body. She stepped forward, taking a single breath, Ariana sent another right jab and this time aimed for the head. The Krath collapsed like a pile of rags, and just like rags, it remained unmoving after Ariana’s attacks.
​

|| Ronval Rubat | Valery Noble | Darth Mori | Dyans Keto ||​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

SWORD OF RECLAMATION
LEAP INTO THE LIGHT vol. I
Issue #1 w/ Donne Toulemonde
​

They swung like a pendulum across the Tetan hall, each teetering on the knife's edge between life and death as the initiative swung from one to the other. The ebb and flow between Jedi and Sith characterized the eons-old conflict between light and dark, like a tug of war predating time and space itself. Their lightsabers carved blistering trails on the opulent marble floor through where the duelists weaved in their fierce struggle against one another.

And finally -- a moment to breathe; much-longed air filling their battered lungs. They split away physically from the scuffle but their minds remained joined, will against will in a ceaseless affray.

"Are you always this angry or was it something I said?"

Her laughter -- a maniac's cackle -- squeezed the hilt of his blade as if that on itself was an attack.

In her probe, there was no anger to be found, or rather -- it was merely embers of one carried over the years, dampened in the waters of a Jedi Knight's trained serenity. And yet, it was no blazing storm that sought to disrupt the ocean's stillness, but the guilt of failures and mistakes that sought to pull him under. Its burden was seemingly inescapable. One to be carried to the grave, liberated from its weight only when he would become one with the Force.

"Keep digging, lady." Dagon challenged her. "You'll only bury yourself."

"Maybe only then you'll find the path back to the light..." he panted before he frowned as the whole palace shook. The tumult of war was closing in. Soon enough there could be no palace to stand on.

The daggers in his eyes dulled, blunted by the hope of redemption. His blade lowered from an exhausted guard and leveled to his side as a hand was offered from distance. "Submit yourself, lady. The dark side will only bring you suffering."
​

 

[Jax Thio]

Location: Empress Teta
Equipment: Traveling Garments, Jax's Prosthetic Arm, Jax's Second Lightsaber, Promise Ring to Jairdain
Tag: Dreidi Xeraic , Darth Carnifex

"No, she doesn't," Jax thought engaging Carnifex's blade and attempted to slide in attacks. "But she follows her feelings and does what she feels is right." It was the will of the Living Force, to help those in need. It was something that Jax forgot when Carnifex unleashed his mental torment on him. The Force goes beyond the normal dictates of the material world, sometimes one will need to bend the rules and overcome their fear in order to face protect others. Dreidi was following her heart almost to where Jax thought she was reckless but..... he understood her intentions. Even if she didn't respect Jax, Dreidi will go through hell just to pull Jax out of his stupor.

And he needed to do same for her.

The Jedi Master sensed a disturbance, large chunks of rocks were hurling directly at Driedi. Jax immediately disengaged from Carnifex leapt over Driedi held out his hand. The rocks slowed down with the largest one coming closer to the point where sharp edges. grazed across Jax' Prosthetic Arm. "Dreidi!" Jax yelled. "Help me out here!"

With Dreidi's help, Jax could redirect the pieces of ground and strike Carnifex. It was stall tactic but it can lead to a counterattack.

 

[Darth Sorn]

Sorn remained in the shadows invisible to Aaran while exchanged japes with Maestus, Sorn couldn't help but feel scorn for the Jedi. He and Maestus were..... close and the fact that she's even considering this proposition filled Sorn with anger. But Sorn remained calm, it was best to channel that anger and create something more powerful like......

"Yes.... of course!" A smirk formed on Sorn's lips. THAT ability, Sorn has yet to test it in live combat but it was an ability that no Jedi or Sith could ever counter. But conjuring power, it was labor intensive and required massive concentration. Sorn needed to make sure to keep his distance and that required Maestus to do her job.

"Hold him off Maestus," Sorn said communicating to her through the Force. "I need to focus, it is time for to..... experiment on that ability."

Aaran Tafo , Maestus

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Location: Gehinnom II
Opposition: Darth Sorn Maestus
Equipment: Azoth Talisman of Iron Fists

The part of him that was trying to enjoy the fight, to stay in the mindset that was needed to properly use Vaapad sighed in disappointment. His saber had already been flashing at his side to bat away Maestus' oncoming whip. Whips were wonderful mid-ranged weapons but they needed to be swung to build up momentum and to direct them, the longer the whip the greater the delay in the user's swing to the whip itself actually moving to strike.

And in a battle between force-sensitives, beings who have been noted many times in history to react at near lightspeed. Against an opponent who was perceptive enough to see the entire room they were fighting in. The whip might as well have been travelling through molasses instead of air.

Against a squad of GADF troopers, this weapon would have cut through them like a knife through butter. Against an inexperienced Padawan, they would have tripped over themselves trying to track the blazing whip and been cut to ribbons.

Against an experienced fighter who's been fighting all his life? Who never once took the easy option? It just wasn't enough, neither of the Sith he faced were enough. Neither of them committed even a fraction of the effort needed.

And as Maestus drew her saber and settled into her stance, he simply stopped in his assault. After all why bother, his commlink had already beeped twice again, informing him that his squads were making their exit, the prisoners had been secured, the only Sith on this level that could have stopped them were tied up in their fights with Jedi. Just as he had figured, they'd obsess over the ancient grudge instead of focusing on their resources.

They were free. He'd won. Any more fighting was simply his own ego demanding satisfaction.

With the hiss of a deactivating saber audible over the idle sparking of broken lights and machinery. The former Battlemaster let out a disappointed sigh and placed his weapon back on his belt. Sparing the Twi'lek a glance. "You lack conviction." He turned his head to where Sorn lurked invisibly, slowly gathering so much power he burned like a bonfire to Aaran's own mystic sight. "Both of you."

"Any action without conviction is doomed to fail. Hesitation means defeat."

With a twist of his wrist, he reached out to the damaged doors, wrenching them free and tossing both towards where Sorn was lurking. If they were going to attempt some technique with a horrendously long charging time, they needed to make sure their partner could actually buy them the time needed.

Maestus could not. Not with her current tactics. Not through sheer brute force that a skilled opponent could outmanoeuvre. Not through melee combat where Aaran had her number in strength, experience and flat out enjoyment.

So instead Sorn was met with several tons of metal doors flying towards them at breakneck speed.

Aaran was already walking towards the now destroyed doorway. Leaving Maestus to strike him, or let him go. He didn't care which. The slaves were freed, he had won. Energy spent killing two Sith was much better spent helping others planetside. But he did spare her a glance as he left. "If you ever tire of this Via. This impotence, this pointless quest for power that gets you nothing. You know where to find me."

And with a slight salute, he ducked out the doorway to catch up with his men and get off this doomed station before it was destroyed or it fled.