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

[Aaran Tafo]

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

"Look at you, encased in that rotting sack of meat blinded. It's a fitting metaphor of your ignorance to power, it's under your nose but you choose not to grasp it instead you're content with being mediocre."

A brow was raised in response to the taunting, did this man honestly believe Aaran was blind just because he lacked functioning eyes? That because he had an organic and unmodified body he was somehow weakened? Next thing you know, Sorn would start believing that somehow the crude matter their bodies were made out of mattered in the long run. "Is he new?" He asked, turning to Maestus with a somewhat bemused expression on his face. The trembling ground beneath him barely phased his stride, his legs and knees reshifting and rebalancing with the grace of a trained acrobat.

"And when you decide to focus your sight on what's right under your nose, you blind yourself to everything else." Came his almost cheery reply in response to Sorn's own fixation on power.

Honestly, was that all they cared about? Power this and Power that. There were far more interesting things going on in the universe, being concerned with such an empty illusion such as power seemed dull in comparison.

Turning back to Maestus, he held up a finger. "Gimme just....." he said, pausing for a moment as he considered his options. "Ten seconds with this guy. Need to make something clear. He's seriously low balling you if he thinks I'm weak." He said, not particularly caring if she agreed or not, his raised finger beginning to crackle with purple lightning. And with a flash of light and the smell of ozone, the light fixtures on the ceiling and walls popped and shorted out, plunging the room into darkness.

And while for the Sith, there would be a moment of readjustment, perhaps a flicker of confusion before their senses would readjust, but by then Aaran would have already crossed the distance between him and Sorn. Moving at a speed that the human body could honestly not perform at under natural conditions. Bone, muscle and tissue had a hard limit on how much stress it could endure.

But The Force had none.

Under the cover of darkness and confusion, all but invisible with his lightsaber currently deactivated, Aaran's leg swept up in a devastating kick, aiming for Sorn's midsection, hoping to knock the wind right out of them. The power behind the strike again defying physics and all common sense. The strength behind it is more akin to the blow of a Ranchor and not merely an athletic human.

Of course, the natural reaction to anyone with a lightsaber against a barehanded opponent would be to raise their blade in defence. After all, nere flesh and bone was nothing in comparison to deadly plasma. Something as simple as a block would cripple the attacker outright.

Only this wasn't what would happen, Aaran's protective talisman would see to that, grazing blows from a lightsaber would mean little to him. In fact, a direct blow from the saber would simply risk Sorn's own saber being driven into his flesh by the monstrous power behind the kick. Because in the end, flesh and physical limits meant little to someone with the Force as their ally.

And it was a lesson he intended to teach this day.

 

[Mylo Thorne]

​

Ashes to Ashes

Location: Forward Landing Zone, Empress Teta
Objective: Establish a refuelling point
Equipment: Shocktrooper Armour | Hawkbat Rifle | Blaster Pistol
Callsign: Revenant Squadron
Allies:
LDR - Tren Chaar THREE - Ran Serys FOUR - Shar Sieu FIVE - Kaul "Joker" Emos SEVEN - Leon Gallo NINE - Artemis Toth TEN - Qellene Tyliame ELEVEN - Zev Garallia TWELVE - Tristram Vos - OPEN
Enemies:
- OPEN

​

As Mylo sat, the wild vibrations of the shuttle rattling his bones as if he was sitting in an earthquake, he thought back to the last time he was on Teta. Last time they hadn't been in the best position, reeling back from a major loss, but with the newly won Battle of Tython behind their backs, it seemed like they really had a chance at prying this vital world from Mawite clutches. Gripping his blaster carbine, the armour on his back felt.. strange. Despite the fact the pilot had much time to really get used to wearing it, it still felt alien to him. He almost missed the oversized itchy cotton of his standard-issue flight suit.

Cinnegar loomed beneath them as the sounds of war intensified. It seemed so different, yet so familiar, the high pitched sound of blasterfire, but also the audible screams. In Space no-one could hear you scream, and when you were in a starfighter, you had the choice to turn it off. Mylo placed down his rifle for one moment, clutching the helmet, and placed it over his head. The metallic insides of the shuttle transformed into numerous readouts, heart rates, tactical information. A short click let him know that the helmet was on properly - just like it'd said in the crudely put together holomanual that he had browsed just before the mission. Another thud, this time, slightly more intense than the others let him know that they had touched down.

He shot up, loading the rifle with the ammo canisters, and securing some extra to his torso plate. A hazy sight immediately enveloped him as he moved out, weapon raised, his eyes darting around the surroundings, hauling a great big bag of equipment on his back, trying his absolute best not to either trip, fall and drop precious equipment that was probably worth more than his starfighter. Jogging along through a place that might once had been a hub of activity, his thoughts soberly changed to how much the war had affected the ordinary citizenry of the galaxy. Slowly nodding to himself and only just catching up with the others, Mylo removed the weight off his back and dumped it down.

Having some practical experience, he'd been nominated to deal with the communications to his disappointment. Unloading the rig, he also removed a box of tools, including a trusty hydrospanner. Spinning it in a gloved hand, he removed a comset, and an uplink device to help establish long-range communications. Collating all the information he had, he figured that this was going to take him quite a while, and he desperately hoped they weren't ambushed in that time. Unloading everything else, he got to work as soon as possible, the helmet helping him out with diagnostic readouts that essentially told him what he needed to deal with.

“How long 'til comms are up?”

"Working on it, I'm gonna need like thirty minutes to an hour!" He mentioned through the headset com, hands a blur as he picked up the pace. Time was of the essence, and it was slowly slipping through his hands.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

“When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.” – Mark Twain​

“He’s arrogant as all get out, but at least he’s entertaining.”

They all try to say their own thing, and make their remarks their own. Yet in the end, Sith always bellow out the same diatribes. It was funny if you look back at it, how every single solitary practitioner, or believer in the Dark Side seem to forget their own primary belief, to break their shackles and live their life as they see fit. The big man himself could see the honor in that and would bring it up, but he was not going to play that game, he had places to be.

Ho hum., just get on with it. Tell me how weak I am and how it will be your pleasure to snuff out my existence and let’s get on with it. Or better yet how it is good that I am having these feelings and that if I strike you down my journey to the Dark Side will be complete. Seriously, is there like a script you people follow or something? It’s almost like someone just gave you your powers and you’re trying to impress them or something.

No, he did not know the truth, it was just observation and while he could choose discretion when it came to making remarks, he did not always choose to do so. Truthfully he was only here for the people of Empress Teta, those who were let down, this Sith Lord was just in the way. He was typical, always wanting the opponent in front of him to know that he was better, desperate to prove he was stronger, it was sad really.

“Okay, that was actually impressive.”

This guy did not simply block Force Lightning, he blocked elemental. Traditionally a bolt of electrical energy exponentially more destructive, sure, Force Lightning was terribly dangerous, but it was centered around the electrica; impulses of the body and of the atmosphere. Clearly this DarkSider had some skills, if only he would shut up.

It was a strange moment that would happen from time to time, but Vanagor still had moments where he would forget that his connection to the Force had changed. He did not need to focus on the attack that was about to happen, he did not need The Force to see how to respond appropriately, his own body was simply doing it for him. The Force was becoming his instinct. In short, Caltin Vanagor did not need to try to block the lightning coming his way. He simply did and sent it back at his foe.

You talk too much.

Tags Allies: TEAM LIGHTSIDE! / Anyone wanting to interact!
Tags Foes: @Darth Wallgof/ 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

 

[Valery Noble]

Outfit | Weapon | Appearance

Location: Empress Teta
Objective: Ashes to Ashes
Post: #2

The chaos of war had reached the Teta Palace.

Defending Mawites found themselves facing off against waves of Alliance soldiers, all driven by powerful desires to retake what was lost, and to finally find peace with all those who were killed by the strikes deep into the core. It made them feel completely different from those who had defended Empress Teta and Tython not long ago — they were a lot more focused and even more intense. At the front of this strike force stood Valery, who had now ignited both her lightsabers to intercept as much enemy fire as she could, hoping it would provide cover for those around her.

But her mind was still reaching out into the Force, settling on the dark presence that belonged to Darth Mori. She wasn't alone, and while she didn't recognize Nadja Keto and Alars Keto 's presences, Valery knew she wasn't here for them.

"Captain Daras, I'm going inside to confront her," she said, her eyes shifting to the officer beside her, "Secure this area and make sure nobody leaves the Palace." For a moment, he seemed hesitant about Valery going in alone, but he also knew there wouldn't be a way to persuade her not to go. So he nodded, somewhat reluctantly, and turned to his men to guide them through the rest of the battle. After he left, Valery drew in a deep breath, wrapped the Force around herself for a cloak, and moved to bypass the defenders who remained, but were unable to detect her now.

Only within the palace itself, she stepped out of her cloak and looked at the path in front of her. She felt tense, knowing what clash was up ahead. The Dark Lord had undoubtedly sensed her presence at this point as well, so there was no going back anymore. But despite this, she felt ready and confident in herself too — much of her life as a Jedi had been building up to a moment like this, and she wasn't going to back down from it.

So with both lightsaber hilts firmly drawn into her hands, she walked directly to her target, which she felt beyond a set of large, beautifully decorated doors. The moment they opened, Valery stopped and turned her gaze to Mori while the other woman barely seemed to be spared a second of her attention.

"Not quite what I expected, but finally we meet," Valery said, her stance still relaxed while her weapons remained idle by her sides. But she knew it wasn't going to stay like that much longer.

Darth Mori ​

 

[Ariana Du Couteau]

Ariana Du Couteau, Jedi Padawan
Location: Empress Teta, Resistance Hide-out
Action: Prepare Attack on the Royal Palace
Outfit

Home.

It was a word too difficult for Ariana to speak, memories too bittersweet to seek comfort in as she looked around the ruins of Cinnagar. The Maw probably never intended to build up logistics or infrastructure, they simply wanted to cause as much destruction as possible. And their failure of destroying Tython would be their greatest regret no doubt. Ariana winced as she carefully dug through a collapsed building, a high-rise of some sort. The debris was certainly plentiful but what she was looking for wasn’t the remains of the building but what lay beneath.

Her father never told her brother or herself of his past, he would only explain that life was about taking that next step forward. Of course this was never enough for her brother, he was always obsessive in that way, but Ariana herself simply wanted to see what would come next. And the next step is to open this underground secret lair.

Ariana glanced around the debris around her and with a single motion of her hands she commanded several large pieces of concrete and walls to lift up. Her manipulation of the Force succeeded to reveal an empty normal floor beneath her feet. She tapped a finger below her ear and voiced her complaint. “-So, do I need to say some magic words? Maybe I should have worn that one cape?”

“Don’t be silly, the entrance is right beneath your feet. You just need to wait for me to scan the door controls and unlock it.” Her brother quickly responded. “-and Dad only told us that his cape unlocked doors to get us to wear them so we can open the fridge for snacks.” He added with a small huff in his voice.

With a small smile Ariana chuckled once and waited for another few moments before the floor opened and revealed the entrance to her father’s secret lair (she dubbed it when her brother showed them to her). She quickly scaled the ladder and walked up to a rather large durasteel double door, seeing a hand plate scanner she placed her right hand and waited for the door to open. Nothing opened. Instead the scanner gave a negative beep and before she tried again her brother stopped her.

“No!” Damian nearly yelled into her ear. “-Careful, we can’t risk this door locking up on us forever. Clearly dad never intended for us to open up his cache supplies, let alone find them.”

“Secret Lair.”

“No.” Damian simply muttered as quietly worked on his data-slate. Ariana impatiently tapped her fingers on her forearm and wondered if she could simply force the doors with her Force abilities but the doors opened.

“Let’s get the manifest and prepare this cache Ary,” Her brother began, “-We have quite a few to get through. . .”

Ariana’s expression turned with grim determination as she knew their home was under brutal subjugation and they, along with the Alliance, were here to reclaim it all.

===

Some time after Ariana found herself glancing between several former Royal Guards, many of them still wore their pauldrons that marked them from different Noble houses and such. It was a colorful assortment of former guards, turned resistance fighters since the fall of Teta and now they were liberators. The Alliance were arriving in force to retake the planet from the clutches of the Maw and Araina readied herself to fight just as fiercely for her own home.

The great palace would be where a large portion of the Maw’s force would hold, but the Iron Citadel itself that made its first appearance during the first invasion of Teta also held significant strategic value. But I don’t have enough information to help reclaim that, but the Royal Palace? How many times did my brother and I sneak around there? Ariana grimly smiled as she tightened the bandages on her forearms and fists.
​

 

[Dreidi Xeraic]

Location: Spaaaace! (Heading to Empress Teta)
Outfit: Padawan Garb
Equipment: Lightsaber
Tags: Jax Thio | Darth Carnifex
​

The dropship started to shift into landing approach, Jax was off, staring out at the planet. It was odd, she never seen him like this. Jax wasn't really one to be brooding or moody like this, usually he was overly chipper or positive, now he seemed distant and insular. Something was concerning him, something had him worried. Dreidi wasn't exactly concerned for his wellbeing, but she was concerned that this different attitude in Jax would cause issues with his fighting abilities. As much as he was the more skilled and experienced out of the two of them, it didn't mean that Dreidi couldn't help him, save his life if they fought together. There were powers she had that he didn't, skills she knew that he hadn't even attempted to understand. She could help him and she knew if another of Jairdain's lovers died in battle that it would mostly likely break her and then Dreidi was very, very likely to never hear from her ever again.

Breathing in deeply, she figured that she needed to at least stick around Jax and figure out what was going on with him and try to understand what in the Force was going on with him. Stepping out of the dropship, she looked around the place, Jax asked her if she could feel the Dark Side and stated that this use to be a busy city full of life that was nothing more than a ghost town. "I only feel the Force Jax, you should know there isn't Light or Dark, just how people use it." Dreidi stated firmly, she could feel the Force emanating from the many Sith that were resided on the planet. She was fairly use to the presence of Sith and those dedicated to using the Force in a Dark Side manner. It did not make her feel uncomfortable or nervous, but it was surprising how different this feeling was to home, it was less comforting, more intrusive.

"War makes many busy cities into ghost towns, you know this Jax. Doesn't matter which side controls the planet." Dreidi pressed, she still thought this war with the Maw was dangerous and was good for the Jedi. It was turning them into warriors, killers, and that wasn't who they were meant to be. "Are you sure that you should be here? I think you should be the one to leave Jax." Dreidi stated, tilting her head, there was some concern in her tone. Seeing someone like this, it made her uneasy no matter who they were. When he tried to dismiss Dreidi she completely ignored his orders and matched his pace to the palace.

"We aren't parting ways Jax, you wanted us to work together more. I came here to do that. Not going to let you dismiss me like some incapable child. I know the dangers that we can face. I have been in war before you know. I survived an orbital bombardment. So, tell me what has you all freaked out and lets plan on how to face it together because just rushing to danger is karking stupid and anyone with a brain cell knows that." Dreidi gave a sharp remark at the end just to reassure Jax that nothing was changing in their relationship yet, even if she was actively choosing to stick around him.​

 

[Ishani Dinn]

Ishani’s expression grew pained (or at least, she cringed) as Alicio realized what she was saying couldn’t possibly be true. He clearly wanted to believe her—he’d even turned his lightsaber off as soon as he saw her. But her story was bullshit and she knew it wasn’t going to fly.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “I wasn’t trying to insult your intelligence, just so you know. I was hoping you’d figure out that I’m trying to save you. But if you’re gonna be stubborn about it…”

A sword appeared in her hand, summoned apparently from thin air. It had been forged years ago by a pair of young Sith alchemists on Korriban. The blade was tempered in blood and had a sickly yellowish sheen. (It also was engraved with the words “Butter Knife” in Basic, but that's besides the point. No, seriously, if you get close enough you can read it...)

“I guess we’ll be doing this the hard way.” She pointed her sword at him and took a step closer. “You’re probably wondering how it came to this. Why am I here, why am I trying to kill refugees, all that. You also probably know that there is no answer that will satisfy your morals or your logic, so there’s little point in asking ‘why?’”

She kept pushing forward, whether he retreated or stood his ground, until she held the tip of her blade just under his chin.

“So. Draw that lightsaber again, Your Excellency, and let’s get this over with.”

Alicio Organa​

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Location: The worldcraft
Allies: GA, I guess.
Enemies: Darth Ptolemis , Maw.

Boom.

The moment the torpedo was inside, side panels detonated, triggering an explosion that sent shrapnel flying in all directions. Maw minions in the immediate vicinity were ripped apart or injured by the hot shards.

Elpsis was first out as commandos burst out of the boarding torpedo. Further teams were being disgourged. She knew that Vagt was leading his team, laying down bolter fire. Hazani's enchanted blade blazed with fire as she led hers. Elpsis did not micromanage, but focused on coordination. And on bringing forth the flames. Maw fanatics, driven to a violent frenzy by their faith in so-called Dark Gods as well, undoubtedly, by cocktails of drugs, sought to bar their path, charging with reckless abandon.

Blades clashed, and the air was filled with the whine of blasters and the staccato of slugthrower fire. Elpsis summoned fire, and Mawite fanatics burnt. In spite of the tempestuous, fiery energies she called upon, she felt strangely serene. All was as the...I need a better name for her, Elpsis thought randomly before a narrowly deflected blaster bolt pulled her back to reality. Inferno carved off limbs and extinquished lives, humming all the way. With her cybernetic fist and leg, she broke bones and slammed foes into bulkheads. She took blows and bled, and responded in kind, as she sent the tainted souls back to the fires of creation.

One day her light would go out, too. Perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps in a decade. It didn't matter. Battle would inevitably take her. For no gods bestrode this galaxy. No Sith'aris, no chosen ones, save in the minds of the deluded. Everyone was just part of a larger tapestry. In the greater scheme of things, any one being was minuscule.

The Sith could not accept this. They had to pursue self-exaltation at all costs - the cost was borne by others, of course, and the Sith's striving was inherently self-defeating - while coming up with absurd, pathetic and plain whiny diatribes about being persecuted. A sign of weakness. Elpsis took comfort in the fact that there was some order to this cold, bleak universe.

Even though it was one of struggle.

 

[Darth Wallgof]

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

A crazed laugh escaped Wallgof's lips as he heard the Jedi Master. Bold, bold indeed. HE IS WEAK. NOT JUST BECAUSE HE IS JEDI BUT BECAUSE HE IS NOT PURE SITH. WE ARE PURE SITH, I HAVE GIFTED TO YOU THE POWER OF PURE SITH, TO BE THE STRONGEST SITH IN THIS GALAXY, WALLGOF! KILL HIM, END THIS FIGHT NOW! Naga shouted at him as Wallgof paused and let the Jedi talk. He was curious to hear what this being had to say. "Oh, but Master Jedi, I do not want you to strike me down. In fact I want quite the opposite, I want you to fall. See, you are not worthy of being Sith, you are not worthy of living. I am here to demonstrate what a pure Sith, a true Sith can do and that no Jedi will ever be able to stop us." Wallgof was still softly chuckling as he informed the Jedi Master of his plan, of how he foresaw this duel ending.

"I am trying to honour someone who granted me these gifts. Giving praise to the Sith who bestowed their powers onto me, declared me chosen as the new Emperor. I am sure that you fight to honour the weaklings that died here today. To honour the mentors that trained you, gifted you with the abilities that you have." His voice liquid smooth as he talked, he could still hear Naga Sadow screaming for murder, for ending the life of the Jedi Master, that this being was tainting the ground that they stood on.

The crimson glow of electricity brightened as he intensified his Lightning at the Jedi. However, it was too late for him to notice that the Jedi Master simply absorbed it and sent it back at him. It was going to hit him hard square in the chest when his body unnaturally dodged as if it was plucked and tugged by an invisible being out of the way of the returned attack. Wallgof panted slightly then glared at the empty space where he saw the Sith Lord Naga Sadow. "I did not consent to you doing that Naga! I can handle this on my own!"

YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN KNOCKED OUT OR KILLED IF I DID NOT TAKE CHARGE FOOLISH WALLGOF! DO NOT QUESTION MY METHODS OR I WILL REMOVE YOUR POWERS AND THEN LET US SEE HOW YOU HANDLE FIGHTING THIS JEDI MASTER THEN! WE BOTH KNOW WHAT A PATHETIC WEAKLING YOU WERE WHEN I FOUND YOU! Wallgof stumbled a little bit as he knew without the powers granted by Naga, then he would fail. Nodding his head, he muttered a thank you to the Sith Lord and felt his connection to the Force remain. For now. He couldn't keep stalling the fight otherwise Naga would get bored and want to taunt Wallgof by removing his powers and seeing how the Sith Lord coped pathetic and weak.

Twirling his Lightsaber expertly in his left hand, the Sith Lord stepped forward, kicking the corpse of the Jedi Knight out of the way, as if it was a rock in his way. "I heard that comment often yet... Yet, no one seems able to silence me so far." A taunting tone echoed from Wallgof as he kept moving forward, kicking an corpse carelessly out of his way. Not caring for any of the dead, Sith or Jedi.

 

[Maestus]

Maestus Fury
Dragon Shield Talisman

Darth Sorn
Aaran Tafo

Maestus lightly pressed fingers to her temples as both the men started to boast and bluster. She had no patience for it anymore.

She was about to say something in response to Aaran, when the lights went out. It would take about 5-10 seconds for emergency power to kick on and provide illumination. And in cases like this, every second counts.

She focused on Aaran, and raised a hand. She called upon the Dark Side of the Force. No, called isn't right. That implies she gave the Force a choice. No, she commanded the Dark Side to her. To do her bidding. She felt it begin to course through her body, through every vein. It filled her, utterly.

Aaran in her mind, hand raised and she unfurled a dark power. Morichro was employed against her long time adversary. Her fingers began to curl slowly into a ball. With any luck, Aaran would begin to feel pain and a tightening in his chest as Maestus attempted to grip his heart by the power of the Dark Side. If done correctly, she would eventually stop his heart and kill him.

She still held her lightwhip in her other hand. But right now, it swung gently at her side, limp. She had to maintain her focus or the power would fail.

And failure is not something she tolerated.

​

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

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

The Jedi master warned him that there would be great risk in accompanying her. Jasper didn't mind. He hadn't exactly come to Empress Tetta to watch from the sidelines. He gave a reaffirming nod to Mi'la and followed the master aboard her ship. She mentioned that there was uniqueness about the vessel. Strangely, he got the sense that the ship was conscious. Not completely, but he certainly felt something. The Twi'lek Jedi master mentioned that the freighter was intended to be an academy. For someone who was never picked up for advanced training, this caught his attention, though he kept his thoughts to himself for the time being. She brought Jasper to the ship's hangar, where three Jaina Class Stealth-X fighters lie in wait.

"Woah," Jasper reacted. He had heard of the vessel, the successor to the original Stealth-X, but it was far more impressive in person.

"Hope you don't mind if I fly, I just quite literally met you so, rather important that we arrive in one peace."

"That's fine," the exile said with a nod. "I don't exactly know where we're headed."

As they hopped into the notably crowded cockpit and quickly took to the skies, the master explained they were headed to a presence in the force that had been calling to her. Vague, but Jasper understood. The force worked in mysterious ways. Even in his limited nature, the exile seemed to find himself where he needed to be in times where he was lost. They weren't alone for long. Soon, a pair of Maw fighters were on their tail.

"Jasper, can you take care of our guests? Dog fighting was never my thing."

"Yeah, I can," he responded, now truly confident. She was speaking his language. "Not alone though. Our primary weapons are on the S-Foils. I'll need you to get behind those fighters so I can take them out of the sky."

As he spoke, Jasper was already looking through the other weapons on the vessel. Saotome Bomblet Generator, Sasori Ur-Didact... Jeez, this thing is armed to the teeth, he thought. Jasper had been in his fair share of dogfights since setting off on his own, but all he had was a old, beat up patrol craft. This was a starfighter. Most of these weapons were superfluous for their needs, but it sure felt good to have them at his disposal.

 

[Alicio Organa]

CINNAGAR, EMPRESS TETA
TAGS: Ishani Dinn ​

Even when Ishani dropped the act, Alicio could barely comprehend what was happening.

She had switched from a concerned ally to dangerous enemy so quickly, Alicio felt the emotional whiplash. Even when everything was laid bare before him, when the former Senator outlined her intentions to murder innocent refugees, some part of him refused to understand. It was only when she produced her blade, and stuck it under his chin, that the situation crystalized in Alicio's mind.

He stared down at the weapon, then across it at it's wielder. He examined her face, searching for any hint of their friendship in her features. Finally, he stared through her, his eyes flashing like thunderclouds. Past reality, into the near future.

The Count activated his blade once more, keeping it low at his side, casting blue light and black shadows across both of them. He would do anything to protect those who were counting on him.

Anything.

In an act of blazing-hot defiance, he shot a word at Ishani, despite the futility, spoken with all the confusion, pain, and determination he felt.

"Why?"

 

[Ishani Dinn]

"Why?"

“You just had to ask, huh?” She sighed. “You’re not going to like the answer. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Though his lightsaber was growling at his side, he had yet to actually make a move against her. So she pushed closer, edging the tip of her blade along his jaw and toward his throat.

“I did die at Tython. My soul was cast into the Netherworld of the Force, where it wandered until I was resurrected. The Nether showed me many things while I was there. I saw visions of the past and the future, and things that could’ve been. Somewhere along the way, I realized that I had been lying to myself. I was afraid to show who I really was, to be the person I am on the inside. I vowed that when I got out of that hellhole, I would be true to myself from then on.”

She laid her free hand over her heart.

“Well, here’s the real me, unconcerned with how other people see her. Out here rounding up refugees for my own twisted purposes.” Her voice dropped an octave, becoming husky and almost, weirdly, seductive. “But I still like you very much, Alicio. Very, very much… So, for old times’ sake, this is your last chance.”

She prodded his neck with her sword, trying to goad him into action. Attack, or retreat.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Qellene Tyliame]

[Objective: Establish a Forward Landing Zone for Alliance Forces]
Tren Chaar , Ran Serys , Shar Sieu , Kaul "Joker" Emos , Mylo Thorne , Leon Gallo , Artemis Toth , Zev Garallia , Tristram Vos ​

For an officer accustomed to light-weight and breathable flight suits, the armor was, at the very least, uncomfortable. Qellene wasn't a flimsy individual in any regard; one had to be hardy to stand 0n the deck of an ocean-going freighter, and especially to stuff oneself in a cramped starfighter cockpit. As well, Revenant Squadron's weeks of conditioning had surely helped her wear the armor with strong posture. Though the suit placed an annoying amount of tension on her shoulders, its weight was easily second to the sense of claustrophobia it induced.

She hated the helmet with a passion, hated the viewscreen-like display REC had opted to replace a more familiar translucent visor with. It was claustrophobic too, moreso than even the admitted lack of space provided to her by her A-wing's interior. The walls of the helmet, though quite well padded, still felt like they were driving into her skull and trying to pry out her brain with every passing second.

The turbulence rocking the shuttle began to settle as they descended, concluding in one final shudder when the craft began to settle and finally plop down on scorched earth.

The captain shuddered as the first beam of light began to peer in from between the loading bay doors. It was bright, as if someone had cleaved the atmosphere in two and let the sun bleed in through the wound. The carnage of the Maw's first invasion drew further into view as the armored pilots shuffled out of their transport. Qellene shuddered at the sight of decaying corpses pinned under jagged rubble, the armor of long-gone Alliance soldiers beginning to crack and shatter under the weight of debris. Red-painted shells hid their wounds; the civilians were a different sight. She almost gagged, marching past the bodies of a fleeing mother and her children.

The captain drew a sharp, painful inhale, and set down the heavy case she'd brought from the shuttle; rugged and utilitarian, it opened with two clicks played in unison. An array of metallic components was presented to her. As screams thundered in the air and as a battle raged in orbit of Empress Teta, Qellene set to assembling the base of a secondary air traffic control radar.

She felt sweat trickling down her forehead, beneath the blank, hostile stare simulated by her helmet. Her thoughts dwelled on the carnage surrounding the squadron's landing zone. Her heart raced and pounded at her armor, driving more beads of sweat from out of her skin, ramping up the speed of every movement of her fingers. A metal scaffold began to rise from the metal base, the compact sensing platform gradually taking shape as her welding torch lunged at the structure.

Radiated heat seemed to slip through the plates of Qellene's helmet. She held a wince back, the torch's beam gliding dangerously close to her hand.

She began to tune out the conversations of her colleagues over comms, trying her best to focus on the objective at hand. But the captain's attention nonetheless wandered; her eyes slipped and fell to face another body...

CRACK. Qellene tore the suffocating helmet off her shoulders, slamming it into a barbed mess of rebar and cringing at the sound of it caving in under the force. Her torch had clattered to the ground a few seconds before.

The captain lunged for a pile of debris, wincing with the following impact to her chest.

She began to wish she hadn't eaten lunch that day.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

“The best defense is a confusing offense.” ― Kimberly Pauley​

“There’s a madness to his method…”

There was something going on with him.

It wasn’t noticeable at first, still wasn’t all that attention grabbing, but there was something going on with this Sith. It was almost as if he had someone telling his story, like he was arguing with someone who had control over him. Almost like he was not completely in control of his own actions. Proof came with the odd reaction he gave to his own Lightning being redirected back at him. The Darksider almost looked like he should not have been able to dodge it.

Still with the talking. Talk, Talk, Talk. This DarkSider was not someone who has been at this level very long, he was still drunk with power and reveling in the thought of killing Jedi. He could have his little victory there, and continue with the ridiculous talk but the Dark Lord would not disrespect Holly, it was probably why he did not notice the electrical currents of energy that surrounded her and moved her out of the way as he swept at her remains with his foot. He would not have that.

You keep talking like this “Dark Side” is something that should be revered? Vanagor, one hand holding “Conservator” out to his side, almost daring the Sith Lord to attack while the other hand reaching out to his opposite side and grabbing a Sith assassin in stasis. Electrical currents of pure energy surrounding the foe kept him completely immobile as the big man slowly (though clearly symbolically as he did not look like he needed to do this) closed his massive hand into a fist. The resulting action crushed the assassin’s armor, almost turning his “protection” into a “tomb.”

“Dark Side”... “Light Side”... meh… it’s still the Force and until idiots like you understand that, you’ll just be chasing your tails.

As his hand moved down to its side, the assassin’s armor shattered leaving him completely exposed. There was nothing this would-be killer could do though as the massive Jedi Master mentally sent him flying through the Force. Then finally all that was left was Vanagor, standing there defiantly, almost daring this monster to approach him. He was a talker, but proving to be little more than that. Clearly there was something in him that made this Dark Lord truly dangerous, but the question is was it him, or something else? Vanagor was not going to take the chance on that, but the more he stood here, the more danger was passing him by.

Is it my turn for a snarky witticism, or yours? I’ve lost count?

Might as well try and get in his head.

Tags Allies: TEAM LIGHTSIDE! / Anyone wanting to interact!
Tags Foes: @Darth Wallgof/ 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

 

[Bané Zirbils]

​

Equipment: The Blackwolf (1 Launcher with Conner Nets, 1 with Proton Torps, and the last with Carbonite Missiles), Corporis Skin Suit, REC DC/04 Feverwasp, AKraB Vibrodagger, Survival Kit
Tags: Khione
Commanding 1 Squadron of 7 T-65XNs (all X-wings loaded 1 launcher with Conner Nets, 1 Launcher with Proton Torps, and the last with MagPulse torpedoes)

Into the Trap
​

"Keeper, key up Launcher 2." Looks like a solo date for me and Keeper, Ari thought as her black fighter rolled over and dove into the darkness, rolling back over and shifting power to her repulsorlift just meters above the ground, the X-wing pitching up just above the kicked-up dust as it flew towards the landing zone for the Alliance's invasion force. She double checked her datalink - one she could unfortunately not add her own data to- and saw the seven other X-wings break into elements, sweeping the skies for any fighters trying to make life hard for the reclaimers.

Locking her X-foils into attack position, Ari took a moment to bask into the silence. Focusing on the horizon, she allowed herself to purge her mind of any thoughts. As they came and went from her brain, these thoughts left an empty space, allowing all of her focus to be on the sky around her. Surely there must be some sort of - all of a sudden her eyes were filled with a vision - green fire engulfing a mass of troops, death and destruction raining upon them. Some sort of shimmering shadow passing above them. The landing force is in danger!

Banking around and following her instincts towards the impending danger, Ari armed her weapons systems and double checked all of her systems - This was going to be a long day.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Teta.

Kahlil stared in silence. His mechanical hand clenched on it's own accord. He'd lost the original here against a Mandalorian on a rampage of carnage and terror. Through his neighborhood. His home. His daughter. She'd been spared direct conflict, but the fact her home had been blown apart like so many others still stuck with the Master. Before, he'd gone on his own self contained rampage.

Now?

His gaze shifted to his Padawan, offering a slight smile in turn to the nervousness of the boy's tone. "We'll win." He reached out, patting the top of Silas's head before turning his gaze back to the battlefield.

"Now what's on your mind? I'm not so distracted I can't feel your worry, and it's not about the battle to come."

Silas Westgard | Lord Odion

 

[Iris Arani]

"You know it's going to be alright, right?"

Iris hadn't wasted any time getting to Ara once the call came over her com. Though, she didn't exactly answer it. Some weird Holo Interchange Format (Hif for short) was all the Padawan could figure out how to send in her sprint across the ship. The large, too large ship. She'd taken a moment to at least catch her breath, but it didn't take much to see how worried Ara was.

And who could blame her?

Iris's gaze shifted back to the world, her own worry there for just a moment. The things she saw. The people who died. Darth Carnifex . They still haunted her. .. No, something else was messing with her dreams, but it always seemed to target those memories. She took a breath before standing straighter. Domxite hopped onto her shoulder, the sentient rock controlled BD Unit giving it's own trill of encouragement as they nodded to the Zabrak.

"We got this. Together. You ready?"

Ara Sheridan | Nyaeli | Ardana Vorco

 

[Surea]

A garden, or what was one at some point, large as any home. It'd become Surea's home at least. What was once green was now twisted and red. Her Rot had always killed what it infested, but as time went on. As she got stronger, she could see the life it brought. At first, plants. Some sort of mushroom that consumed the Rot. Was strengthened by it. Then, creatures. Small at first, skittering bugs of some design that had survived the initial infestation and changed.

Before her knelt one such changed creature. Millipede in nature, but where the legs were instead hands. Legs. Humanoid curiously. The Sith watched impassively as it kept it's head lowered. Was it sentient now? Had it evolved that far so quickly?

"Stand."

It stood.

"Salute."

Nothing.

".. Speak."

Nothing.

"Sit."

It sat.

Surea's brow furrowed. No, it wasn't that evolved. Not yet. But perhaps through her Rot one day it could be. Darth Ptolemis would surely be pleased.

Starlin Rand | Amani Serys

 

[Kyrel Ren]

​

Location: Cinnegar, landing platform
Allies: Maw/ Kybo Ren
Enemies: GA/ Mi'la Undari Jasper Kai'el
Equipment: The Hunger, Kyrel's Armor, Necrochasis, Lightsaber


The violence that escalated into a crescendo throughout the city, was a sight to behold. While Kyrel explained his key to hunting down prey he grown all too familiar with, Kybo of course didn’t have much to say. Kybo was the sort that didn’t dwell on the philosophical mysteries and questions both a warrior and thinker possessed. Kyrel nodded to his words, watching as plumes of smoke billowed into the sky. Fires on the outskirts of the city blazed into an inferno.

“Yes, as with all hunters one must know their prey. To the point where the hunt itself is simple as breathing. I know you above all could appreciate that in your raids.” Kyrel knew Kybo, or was aware of him for a long time. It wasn’t often a moment was shared like this between the two Ren, watching the city as the screams of the innocent mixed into the chorus of laughs from his butchers of men. He inhaled deeply, and he was intoxicated by the scent of the fires burning and the smell of death that hung thickly to the air.

The quiet moment was disrupted by another pulse of energy. The Hunger had growled, and sent a shot of pain through its wielders very being. His grip was more firm, it felt as if his own strength would break the weapon. Crimson sparks could be seen from the forked tip, as when Kyrel looked he could see the Sith runes flash briefly before disappearing. The slaughter that his carnivorous horde had set out was only an appetizer.

He gritted his teeth, as he fed the Hunger his own frustration, his pain. Like his lightsaber the spear functioned on a symbiotic level. Feeding him with power, nourishment to quell the void from within, and in turn demanded a firm hand to feed from. Luckily the experience of his saber, and his own willpower had made the spear tolerable. Above all else that after tasting first blood today, the Hunger would accept its new master and the bond complete.

He looked to Kybo and continued despite the pain. “Prove yourself capable today Kybo, and you will go far from here.” His tone sounded as if he had the utmost faith in his Knight of Ren, for if one couldn’t hold his own against a Jedi didn’t deserve a place within the Ren. The Force echoed, looking up to the sky, and felt it again. The familiarity to his wound, a sibling perhaps? This Wound however, was radiating in light while he was a void consumed by darkness. His eyebrow raised as if intrigued by this discovery he said with sadistic glee. “It seems we will have company after all.” Feeling the Jedi and this sibling, this cousin to his Wound grow ever closer.