Invasion Technologic | SO Invasion of GA Held Woostri - Objective One

[Domina Prime]

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"We are, all of us, stardust. Held together by love for an instant~"

ALLIES
Darth Malum of House Marr | Horus Rhyne | Sophia of House Marr | Trayze Tesar | Lunara Azure | Gerwald Lechner | Darth Meritum | Allyson Locke | Lirka Ka | Serina Calis

ENEMIES
Aadihr Lidos / Kuhbee / Valery Noble / Kahlil Noble / Caelan Valoren


CROWN OF THE INHERITOR
​

The ocean loomed above like the maw of a silent god, an abyssal cathedral of crushing blackness. Domina Prime had known the void of space, the burning heat of suns, the roar of a thousand battlefields—but this? This was different. This was wrong. The weight of the cold, unseen deep pressed against the hull of the submersible like the hand of a patient executioner. It was not the fear of battle that set her great tail flickering and rattling in displeasure, nor the presence of death. It was the water itself—the smothering vastness of it, the thought of its endless depths swallowing her whole.

The xeno knelt in the back of the vessel, her masked face bowed, eyes clenched shut against the rising tide of unease. She was still. Too still. Even as the Sith warriors and troopers around her prepared for the coming slaughter, her four arms gripped the haft of her axe like a lifeline, the light of her glow dimming.

"Be not afraid, little sister…fear is the killer of the mind. Steady your nerves, focus your heart on the battle ahead~"

The hymn was barely a whisper, yet it echoed through the marrow of her bones. The cursed axe in her grasp pulsed with a heat that had nothing to do with fire, as if sensing the churning storm within its wielder. Furyia Prime's voice was honeyed, sickly sweet, coiling around her unease like a lover's embrace.

The thought soured in her gut, twisting uncomfortably as the vessel rumbled with the force of torpedoes detonating in the dark around them.

She did not know if she could get seasick, but in this moment she felt like she was gonna find out fast.

"Sis…" The xeno murmured under her breath, leaning closer to the axe, as if confiding a secret to the wraith within. "Dima don't uhh… don't feel so good~"

Her lower set of arms wrapped across her stomach, claws dragging across the beskar plating of her armor. The ship lurched, sending a fresh wave of nausea through her as a spray of panicked voices erupted in the comms—tactical chatter, status reports, the cold efficiency of war. Her focus blurred. The walls felt too tight. The water too close.

"Relax, sister. Breathe," the axe purred, its warmth pressing into her grasp like a heartbeat. "This feeling will pass."

Domina exhaled through gritted teeth.

"Remember our promise… our age-old bond," Furyia whispered, weaving the words into something ancient, something holy. "Inheritors of the dream must face fear and kill it… or fear will kill you~"

A deep, resounding boom shook the ship as it breached the enemy bay. A voice, distant and unimportant, barked orders over the comms.

"We've breached the bay! Go! Go! Go!"

Hatches hissed as they were wrenched open, the flood of warriors pouring out like locusts descending upon a harvest. The battle had begun.

Domina braced against the spinning world, forcing herself to stand.

Steady...Steady.

Her massive frame loomed over the others as she strode forward, willing herself to move, to ignore the liquid abyss that waited beyond these walls. She could smell the battle—the ozone burn of plasma fire, the distant sparks of clashing sabers, the rising heat of conflict.

That was something she understood.

Blaster fire streaked through the water-thickened air, a storm of plasma and death. The Sith surged forward like a tidal wave of carnage, meeting the Jedi and their defenders in a violent clash. Domina stepped onto the solid ground of the underwater base, her breath stabilizing as the earth greeted her feet. This was better.

This was war.

She let the lesser warriors have their opening movements, watching with all five eyes, calculating. Theirs was the battle of mortals. Hers was the battle of gods. The enemy held the advantage of fortification, their position entrenched and well-defended, but they had made one potentially fatal mistake.

They had stayed in one place.

"In the age of the warrior poets, fate was forged in steel," Furyia sang, her voice slithering through Domina's thoughts like a serpent of fire. "Now it is your turn, oh sister mine… forge thy fate~"

Domina inhaled deeply, the breath rattling through her throat. The sickly dread of the ocean had not left her, but it no longer owned her. She let it burn, let it become something else.

"Ha'rangirs dream…our dream~" Dima chittered menacingly.

The Mandalorian lifted her axe from her shoulder and let the massive, wicked head fall, its steel bones cleaving into the earth with a resonant shriek. Sparks spat from the cursed weapon as she dragged it behind her, the sound sharp as nails on durasteel. Enemy fire snapped toward her—blue bolts of plasma streaking past, searing through the mist.

A shot struck her armor, staggering her for the briefest moment. That was all it took. Her walk became a jog.

Another shot. Her jog became a sprint.

Another shot.

Her roar split the battlefield as she lunged forward, closing the distance with terrifying speed.

"Yes, soul sister," Furyia purred, her pleasure palpable. "Rip & tear, until it is done~"

 

[Lunara Azure]

Location: Thranta Mothership [Unda da Sea]
Allies: Darth Malum of House Marr | Sophia of House Marr | Horus Rhyne | Trayze Tesar | Gerwald Lechner | Allyson Locke | Darth Meritum | Lirka Ka | Domina Prime
Enemies: GA - Open

---

When she'd been younger and had first reached out to touch the force it had felt like a stream of warmth and energy that had reached back to flow through her. She'd never actually seen the sea before, the young Lunara had been a city girl through and through and the best holiday her family could afford was perhaps a trip to the zoo for a birthday. She'd seen it in holovids though, read about it in stories and it sounded wonderful. A whole new world hidden on her planet just waiting for someone to explore it, a myriad of adventures and discoveries that awaited. She'd spent long hours daydreaming about it, so it was little surprise to her teachers that she saw the force as a welcoming ocean.

She'd flown over the ocean repeatedly, but had never actually taken the time to visit the beach till Marcus forced her to take a vacation and join him at the family villa. She still remembered the laughter dancing in his eyes, the warmth of his hands on hers as he pulled her along the beach into the water. She remembered how cold the water was as it swirled around her feet, his laugh as she gasped before she gathered a orb of water, enjoying the dawning realization in his eyes before she dropped it on his head and he'd dragged her into the water laughing. It was a good memory about a time which she rarely had positive thoughts about.

Marcus was gone now, sacrificed by the citizens he'd tried to protect and who had turned their backs on him when he needed them. Failed by the Jedi he'd looked upto. But the force remained, no longer a warm welcoming ocean but a storm that raged around her waiting for her to exert her will on it.

All it took was a small touch of energy, a flick of a finger touching the water around them, curling it round the surface of the ship as the woman let her mind reach out to the ocean that had once held such adventure and promise. She could feel the pulse of life, of the sealife all around her and past them bright points of life, concentrations in the force. She could almost taste the Wolf's rage and anger, like the irony taste of blood on the back of her mouth, the fear and righteousness of the Jedi on the dock, so sure of themselves and their security.

A smile touched the corner of Lunara's lips, a cold expression that wasn't reflected in her eyes as hse reached out, drawing more from the storm of the force as she stroked the minds of the Jedi and their soldiers, so righteous, determined but beneath that…scared. It was impossible not to be, the wait before combat enough to introduce doubt and fear into anyone's mind, all she needed to do was fan that flame just a little bit, give strength to those insidious whispers that told them that they weren't good enough, that they were going to die. It look jus the lightest feathery touch to lay a webt of doubt on the forces facing them, just enough to stir them up before the fight began. If she knew the wolf and the Sith under his command, soon those fears would be a reality.

"As am I."

The blonde opened her eyes, crystal blue gaze sweeping across the group for a moment before coming to pause on Horus.

"They know we're coming but…aren't having a good day about it. Gerwald's strikeforce should distract them for long enough for us to breach the base without getting shot down. I would prefer not to have to swim there, arriving as a bedraggled mess would hardly be the an acceptable way to greet our adoring fans."

 

[Darth Meritum]

"We are about to make contact. I will draw their attention.", the Dark Councilor said through the garbled encryption of the Sith's communications channels. Meritum grunted, being shaken around too much to respond. He held onto a grip above his head, trying to stop the world from shaking back and forth, but he could feel a growing nausea from the motion.​

​

A burp forced one of the pilots to look back at him with a momentary glare. Meritum simply shook his head and motioned for the Pilot to do his job. He'd be fine. Probably. There was a brief moment where he heard one of them say something - or perhaps the beginning of something. Whatever it was, it was drowned out by the crunch of steel, the darkening of the vessel, and the sudden realize that they had been hit in a critical spot.​

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All at once the bulkheads and durasteel crumpled under the pressure of the ocean. There was no time for death to take these men, they likely would never have known this happened at all. Their deaths would be swift - but Meritum's would not. Instinct kicked in and he pressed out in all directions to make sure he alone wouldn't be crushed. Steel bent around him, then fell away as he drew in his last breath and let his shield down.​

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The steel coffin that once threatened to drag him down with it fell in a rush of bubbles. Vestiges of air fighting to return to where it belonged, far from the cold embrace that threatened to crush the Voice of the Emperor. It took all he had to hold back that pressure, even more so given that he was now utilizing the Force to keep his body going in spite of its exhaustion. It had no more oxygen to flex its muscles, no more time to hold out against drowning.​

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So, he simply stopped breathing.​

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A temporary solution built on desperation. He rushed downwards towards the few lights he could see. Everything had grown so dark in this depth, and he was a small thing surrounded by big explosions of color and light. Nobody would even notice him as he fell into a swimming sprint to the bottom. He exhaled, let the last bits of air from his lungs and carried forward. The less he had, the faster he could get where he needed to go.​

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Floating in the darkness, Meritum bumped into the corpse of a Sith Legoinaire. The man had likely taken shrapnel from an explosion, left to bleed out in the cold. His suit had pressurized around him - so at least he didn't die like that. Meritum grasped desperately at the electronic clasps that kept the man's mask to his face, and tore it off. Pressing it against his own face, it slowly found its seal before pumping the water out of his mouth and lungs.​

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It hurt like nothing he had ever felt. His lungs felt like they were collapsing, and the damned thing wouldn't let him take in a breath. His mind struggled for a moment to comprehend it, the realization that it might take too long for it to work before he passed out. To the very last second, he could feel his vision tunneling before air rushed into his lungs.​

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He coughed and sputtered, almost throwing up but holding it in. That, or the mask had administered something to stop him from drowning with it on. He groaned as gravity began to take him deeper, to the core of the command center. Gun turrets fired endlessly into the water above him, but Meritum slipped by them all. Great cables connecting this facility to the rest of the planet were dug deep into the walls or otherwise laid down the cliffs. If nothing else, at least he knew he could destroy those.​

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When he was only a few meters away, he started to use his energy again. More than just holding back the pressure of the ocean, he began to swim towards a bulkhead. It was rough, hard to turn, but it let him into the air lock after only a moment. When he sealed the door behind him, the water began to be pumped out. He collapsed when there was nothing else to hold him up.​

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Soaking, smelling of salt and carbon, Meritum tore the mask off his face and gagged up water he hadn't even realized he had swallowed. He grunted as he forced himself to stand, wiping what moisture he could from his face and lips. A rough, stunted step towards the control allowed him to open the inner airlock. It wasn't deep in the facility, not where he needed to be, but it was a start.​

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He pulled the lightsaber from his belt, let the moisture drip out of it, and prepared himself for a fight. He just hoped he wouldn't meet anyone too quickly.​

​

Braze Kai'el​

 

[Kahlil Noble]

As Valery sent out orders and tasks to the rest of the Jedi, Kahlil was etching as he always did. Preparation and planning, creating and crafting the runes to turn defense into offense. Valery would at least know where the runes were situated, but as she stood by his side again he gave her a smile and squeezed her hand in turn. "As ready as I can be." He responded in turn, flashing a grin. It wasn't a full grin, though. These skirmishes with the Sith, the war they continued to bring, it wasn't something he wanted.

But they'd fought off the Sith before, and they would again.

"You ready?"

Valery Noble | Gerwald Lechner | Allyson Locke

 

[Zanami]

Majesty - Ghost
Gear: In Sig

From outside the aquatic vessel, and all around it, the bursts from defense cannons rocked the craft, scrambling its own defensive and offensive capabilities to counter in kind. The hard part, Zanami figured, was reaching the complex unscathed, and to avoid taking a swim in that frigid water, with whatever lurked in the deep. On land, she was an apex predator, in the water she was nothing more than a fish in distress flailing about attracting the bigger fish.

Whilst she moved through the tunnels of the craft, the trio that inhabited her mind like squatting tenants remained dormant, on her way to the main bridge. She could sense the apprehensions and nervousness dripping tastelessly from the soldiers in preparation of the assault, and she could only sneer at such weakness. Even in her normal state of thinking, she harbored ill feelings to those inferior to herself, but kept her comments locked away. Thier deaths would be necessary; fodder for the enemy, heroes to those that achieve glorious victory. But her victory would be measured by how many slain Jedi laid at her feet.

The Jedi Order, after this battle, would need to up their recruitment drive.

Not waiting for the doors to completely separate, the young Sithspawn slinked through looking at the pulsing lights and hearing the cacophony of beeps and voices shower the area as she made her way to main stand, where the dark-haired Lord stood, poised like a statue, eyes transfixed on the forthcoming events that lied ahead.

"My Lord," she said to Darth Malum of House Marr giving a barely noticeable bow of her head, "With your permission, I would like to remain on the docks and hold back any of the Jedi and their masters, that you, my Lord, can achieve glory through strength. And I will do what 'Mother' and 'Father' created me for......to kill Jedi."


Allies: Domina Prime

Enemies: Aadihr Lidos / Kuhbee

 

[Valery Noble]

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

The familiar scratch of etching against stone and metal filled the air as Kahlil worked, his fingers carefully carving defensive runes into the reinforced flooring. Valery stood beside him, watching the way his hands moved with quiet precision, each mark a silent promise of protection. She smiled. A sad smile. She knew what these runes meant. What they always meant. Kahlil didn't want war. He never had. But here he was, preparing for yet another battle just the same.

Her fingers brushed lightly over his arm, grounding herself in his presence, in their Dyad, before he finally looked up and met her gaze with that familiar half-smile. It wasn't a full grin. It never was, not for something like this.

Valery tilted her head slightly, then, in one fluid motion, pushed up onto her toes and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. It was fleeting but filled with warmth, an anchor against the coming storm. She pulled back just enough to smirk, her fiery gaze glinting.

"Now I'm ready."

Then she turned, and the warmth was gone — replaced by the steady, searing intensity of the Sword of the Jedi.

The first wave of Sith troops was already pushing forward. A tide of armored figures swarmed the entrance, blaster fire ripping through the air, red blades igniting as they charged Alliance defensive lines. The defenders braced, hunkering down behind durasteel barricades as suppressive fire lit up the dim halls. And then — Valery moved.

Like a lightning bolt splitting the sky, she shot forward. Her lightsaber ignited in a brilliant violet arc, slicing through the dark tide with unrelenting precision. The first Sith soldier barely had time to react before she was upon him, her blade cutting through his chest in a clean, merciless strike. He crumpled. The next two tried to flank her. Valery twisted, her body moving in perfect sync with the Force, weaving between their attacks before driving her saber into the first's throat and pivoting to remove the second's arm at the elbow.

A flick of her wrist, a shift of her stance — another enemy fell.

And another.

And another.

Each strike was calculated. Each movement precise. Valery didn't waste energy, didn't allow even a single motion to be unnecessary. She was the Sword, and every step she took carved through the darkness like wildfire spreading across dry fields. But then—

Something shifted.

A ripple in the Force. Two presences, distinct and familiar, burned at the edges of her awareness. Her breath hitched for just a fraction of a second. Gerwald was expected — she knew his name, knew his brutality. But Allyson —

That sting was something else entirely. A former Jedi. A woman who had once brought Valery into the Jedi Shadows. A mentor. A friend. And now, an enemy. Valery's grip on her lightsaber tightened, her fiery gaze narrowing as she stretched out with the Force, extending her presence like a beacon through the facility. Her Light, unwavering and immense, pulsed outward, cutting through the dark like a flare in the night.

If they were coming, they wouldn't need to search long to find her.

"Kahlil." Her voice was steady, unwavering, as she turned her head slightly. "They're coming." Then, without another word, she stepped forward, her violet blade humming as the storm of war swelled around her.

Let them come.

Kahlil Noble
Gerwald Lechner Allyson Locke ​

 

[Caelan Valoren]

He listened to the words the creature uttered and let a small sigh escape his lips. "So be it."

Not that he had expected any other outcome, but it was still within him to offer the chance for peace. He would like nothing better than to have them recognize that peace was the inevitable opposite to war, and there could be no war without it. If they did, maybe they would realize that there was no need for this butchery, for this waste. What was their life? Something spent murdering and killing to leave behind no legacy? Nobody would remember them, just another tool of some Sith warlord. A name lost in history. No legacy to remember.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the saber at his hip and grabbed it. His thumb hovered over the activation switch before pressing it. WHIISSSH. A white blade, glowing with purple and blue outer highlights, sprang forth. He didn't relish this. It wasn't what he wanted by any means. But protecting this world also protected his own. Stopping the advance of the Sith kept his world safer. It was essential that he, as the King of the Kingdom of Devit, keep his people safe, and how best could he do that besides fighting for them?

The die was cast. The attack already started. He was not the aggressor, but the defender.

Amplifying the Force through his body, he improved his speed and strength and launched himself across the space between them. His saber was up at the ready, aimed to spear through her midsection if she didn't avoid his strike. If he could make the fight short he would, so that he could assist anyone else in need of assistance, though he doubted he would be so lucky. The beasts of the Sith were never easy to defeat and always full of some surprise or other.

---

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace)

TAGS: Lirka Ka ​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
ALLIES: Allyson Locke (directly) | Darth Malum of House Marr | Lunara Azure | Sophia of House Marr | Horus Rhyne | Darth Meritum
ENEMIES: Valery Noble | Kahlil Noble

The underwater defense station groaned beneath the crushing weight of Woostri’s vast ocean, its reinforced walls trembling from distant detonations. Gerwald Lechner, the Dread Wolf, pressed forward through the labyrinthine corridors, his crimson lightsaber casting a violent glow across the slick durasteel walls. The air reeked of ozone, sweat, and fear. It was the stench of desperate survival and inevitable death.

Around him, raiders of the Second Legion advanced with grim determination, crimson armor glinting through the flickering emergency lights. The thrum of coolant pumps and distant explosions formed a chaotic symphony which was punctuated by the relentless drumbeat of blaster fire. It was war distilled to its rawest form: brutal, chaotic, and merciless.

Every vibration beneath Gerwald’s feet carried echoes of distant deaths. They sang of the frantic struggle of defenders clinging to a hopeless cause and the grim resolve of attackers who knew the cost of failure. The intensity was palpable like the charged air before a thunderstorm. The ocean around them, heavy and oppressive, mirrored the weight pressing against every soldier’s chest. It was a battlefield as suffocating as the shores of war-torn worlds past, steeped in the same dread and determination that had defined legendary battles of old.

A crackling voice broke through the comm.

<<< "My Lord, we've lost many submersibles each carrying over twenty troopers to Galactic Alliance countermeasures near the western coolant shafts. Resistance is stronger than anticipated." >>>

Gerwald’s lip curled in irritation, though his voice remained cold, a razor’s edge honed by decades of warfare.

<<< "A minor inconvenience," >>> he growled. <<< "Maintain pressure. They will bleed before they break." >>>

His thoughts went to those on the primary vessel for the other force which was led by Darth Malum of House Marr . He hoped they were close. Lunara Azure was among them. Gerwald once called her a friend, but it had been a long time now that he considered her to be more of a sister than his own. The elfin noble was more than an attache for the Empress, or the Echani’s Dread Wolf. She was ætt, family.

<< “Stay safe. Stay alive. And tell Malum that if anything happens to you…” >>

Gerwald did not finish the thought.

Blaster bolts streaked through the corridor, shrieking past him like artillery rounds. Gerwald deflected each with precision, the crimson glow of his lightsaber cutting through smoke and sparks. He moved with relentless purpose, a predator among prey. Raiders surged behind him, pressing forward despite mounting losses.

The defenders, haggard and desperate, clung to their fortified positions near environmental regulators hissing with vapor. Sparks erupted as Gerwald crushed a control panel with a clenched fist, forcing the blast doors halfway open. Slipping through the gap, he emerged onto a catwalk above the defenders.

Blaster fire erupted again. Gerwald surged forward, his lightsaber carving a deadly arc through metal and flesh alike. The supports beneath the catwalk groaned, then shattered under his relentless assault. Screams filled the chamber as defenders plummeted into twisted metal and coolant vapor.

"Predictable," Gerwald muttered, as he stepped over smoldering bodies.

The Force thrummed with the defenders' fear. It was palpable and raw, the same terror soldiers had felt when waves of invaders stormed their shores with no thought of retreat. Gerwald could only hope they didn’t yet realize this assault was only a distraction. The true strike loomed beyond their awareness, moving ever closer to the station.

Keying into the comm, Gerwald’s voice was cold as the abyss beyond the station walls.

<<< "Seal the exits. No survivors. Woostri falls today." >>>

This was no mere skirmish. It was a battle of attrition, where survival was a fleeting hope and the cost of failure unthinkable. Gerwald strode forward, the embodiment of dread and destruction. With every swing of his crimson blade, he ensured the defenders remained blinded by chaos, unable to see the dagger poised to strike until it was already too late.

Gerwald pushed forward, driven by a familiar presence. They had not crossed paths since he saved her life, and the life of her apprentice on Naboo. They were on the same side of the battlefield that day.

Today, Valery Noble was his enemy.

The hot blade of his lightsaber began to cut through the blast door which stood between him and the Sword of the Jedi. Another presence was with her, one that felt oddly familiar. There was something about her partner which should not have been for a Jedi, and yet... he was a Zambrano. The door grew red hot before the durasteel began to melt around his blade. It would only take the Wolf a few minutes to cut through provided there were no other distractions behind him.

"Lay your weapon down and leave, Valery Noble. It is the only time I will be making this offer."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Down, down where no light shines...
| Objective | Hunting drylanders
| Focus | Serina Calis

War is its own end.​

​

It was all but sacred, to the Mando'ade. Without war, they withered and faded, but so long as blood flowed and stained the stars, they stood tall, mighty, and nigh-unstoppable. Under the Duchess' leadership, the New Mandalorians fought for peace, but not their own; peace for those who deserved it, peace for those they watched over, but not quite peace for themselves. Peace would defang them, leave them to die with all of the gracelessness of an old wolf, confused and unable to live with himself. Upon the anvil of war, the strong were tested, and the greatest among them emerged as legends, in a manner not too dissimilar to the forging of a blade. Heroic knights or not, there was no place for anything but greatness among them. ​

​

In truth, battle against the Sith provided them with a great many opportunities. Vengeance for Manda'yaim, as ever, but so too could they test their new stratagems against the dreaded foe; after Echnos, a great many evenings were spent pouring over each and every mistake made during the assault, that they may learn to fight more effectively in the future... and now? Now, they would see just how effective those sleepless nights had been, the constant arguing, the incessant replaying of that massacre in front of their eyes from a dozen different perspectives.​

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No longer would the House of Kryze deploy its forces in an overwhelming capacity as they had done before. The risk of a crushing defeat leading into complete and total extermination was too great. Small, specialized strike teams would be their new method of waging war; sharpened daggers rather than a hammer, to sink past the enemy's guard and make their eyes water as they delivered the kill. On this day, Jenn had carefully chosen the eight warriors to accompany her; Quarren, Mon Calamari, Karkarodon, Selkath... none of them would be easily outpaced by their Duchess. They had their doubts, of course, right up until their eyes beheld her in the otherworldly grace of her true form. Shaped by the Sith; a product of alchemy. And today, she would use this gift against those who thought themselves her creators.​

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"From what I'm hearing on the battle-net, the Woostrians are putting up a good fight", remarked one of the Mandalorians swimming at her side, a Blubreen by the name of Dokiri. "Win or lose, the seabed is going to be littered with invaders before this day is done."​

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"Good", snarled Srin, the shape of his buy'ce somewhat elongated due to the shape of his head; not to mention the addition of a removable mouthguard. Karkarodons enjoyed biting into their prey, a quality not only accepted, but encouraged by the Kryz'alor. There was no shame to be had in embracing one's nature, even less so within the cold embrace of the oceanic depths. "It's time we reminded these drylanders what happens when they face us on our own ground. Oya!"​

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"OYA!" roared the rest of the formation in unisson, scaring off a nearby school of fish. ​

​

Jenn's lips curled into a predatory smile. How long had it been, since she last allowed herself the luxury of slipping into her true form? Her footwork was all but flawless, her nimble motions worthy of awe, but they paled in comparison to the artistry on display with every single kick of her tail or flip or her fin. Srin was right; the drylanders were left to cower in their siege-ships, hoping that they would at least get a chance to let their bloodlust be carried out against the defenders, rather than crushed by depressurization and left to drown in the fathomless depths of the ocean... and they ignored the true beauty of this inhospitable place they were descending into.​

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Each of them moved with speed, grace, and power, though all paled in comparison to their Duchess. For now, they merely patrolled, waiting for a transport to approach them a little too closely, that they may lay down explosive charges on its hull and help speed things along; a prospect that gave them ample time to observe one another's swimming technique. Not one of them belonged to the same species, and yet they were all united in purpose and creed; T and Y visors identifying them as the greatest warriors in the galaxy.​

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The Ersansyr felt a shift in the Force, even before Dokiri picked up an inbound contact on her scanner. A familiar presence, recently acquired - one that lefts an indelible mark on her psyche. Realizing just who she was hunting, the siren laughed, a melodious song easily carrying through the waves and causing the rest of her strike force to turn their heads towards her. ​

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"Form up behind me, my vode.! We have prey to hunt..."​

​

Stars, but she felt more alive now than she had in months. Feeling the rushing water against her tail, caressing her scales and informing her of temperature and currents through her fins, not to mention the freedom of unlocking an entire new axis of movement - it was utter bliss, and she relished in it, embraced that which she had been made into, and grown to accept as a core part of her identity. ​

​

Though the submersible was fast, the Mandalorian strike team was all too ready , forming a circle for it to pass through... and closing in to latch themselves onto the exterior as it passed by, letting themselves be dragged along with it as they began to set their shaped charges on all sides of the up-armored shuttle. If the seductress whose sinful voice echoed within The Duchess' mind was to die from such a sudden assault, then so be it. That would make her unworthy of the siren's attention, freeing up the Kryz'alor to go and find a new adversary worthy of her blade. ​

​

<Riptide Three, charges set!>

<Riptide Four, explosives in place!>

<Riptide Five, ready to blow!>​

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The amphibious team detached from the transport, then, and transmitted the detonation codes over to their ruler. They watched it descend further into the depths, before the Ersansyr, savoring this opening strike, confirmed the detonation. ​

​

"Eliminate the survivors, but leave the Dar'jetii to me. She and I have business."​

​

​

 

[Lirka Ka]

The words grumbled out of Lirka’s mouth, oozing a barely contained glee.

“Yes. So be it.”

Always defiant, these Jedi. She’d almost respect them for it if it wasn’t for such idiotic causes. Blinded and unenlightened souls, untouched by the beauty of Primordial Dark. They prattled endlessly about peace, love, kindness, all the bantha crap that made Lirka gag. How could they be so blind? This was life, around them. Woostri burning was testemamt. Life was fighting, killing, dominating, the strength of one warrior over another, the rule of the strong over the weak. Not all the gibberish the Jedi fed the Galaxy to make them pitiful and complacent.

As the saber of Caelan Valoren sprung to life, a bestial growl escaped Lirka’s lips. She drew her weapon close, and prepared for battle. The weapon crackled with electro-plasma filament, finally, she would have the chance to taste the blood of Jedi once again after decades. It was elation, the dark power within her bubbled in eagerness. And she muttered to herself, briefly. Calling out to her foul master one more time.

“See through my eyes, Kaine. Shall the blood of this interloper be proof of our kinship.”

She had called Darth Carnifex many things in her long life, but a first name basis? She had only done that in a rage. Such was the madness of power though, one could suppose.

As her foe burst forward, Lirka followed suit. All servos and machinery, the dark power within her pushing the beastly Once-Sephi even further. While he may have aimed to clash with her, Lirka instead try to fling herself past him. More than to simply slash the man rather than chase an immediate death blow, she’d relish every moment of their fight. How could she not? To finally battle against the light again was a moment of celebration to be savored.

 

[Barr Vexos]

​

Objective: 1
Weapons:
GABB-15 Talon II (Modified)

• Scope
• Stock
• Grip

AT-NB5 Blaster Pistol

Armor:
GACA-14 Nemean Armor

• Boots: Hidden Survival Knife Sheath

Allies: GA and allied forces
Enemies: SO and allied forces Tag: Not Engaging
"I swear if I get wet...." Barr grumbled silently to himself overlooking his rifle. He never was one combat while all wet for various reasons that one might already know especially when it came to battling others people from different walks of life and if it involved one that benefited from water surrounding the area....

Barr make additional grumbles looking taking a glance at his pistol and making sure that it was ready to be fired. He knew it was already along with his Talon, but his training made him instinctually check his gear and weapons that were at his disposal. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew full well why he kept doing this and he dreaded it. The conditioning that was put into him as a teenager would rear its ugly head many times through his time in the DF, but he knew that same conditioning saves his life many times. It was going to do so again...

So, he hoped.

He looked over his fellow GA soldiers and studied them as if he was a droid scanning life on an area on a planet. They say don't judged a book by its cover, but he has often been told judging a book by its cover has benefits and it showed in how each of the solders looked, how their body language was responding to the waiting that was taking place before them, and how they were holding their blasters rifles. Practically every field combatant hated to play the waiting game in times like these. Times were one second or heck even a millisecond could mean you living to eat, drink and do what you another day or lying in a grave somewhere that didn't want your body to be in your worse.

Barr was no exception to this because after all, he still flawed, and he knows it.

Hearing the words the attack coming Barr readied himself with his rifle at hand. His trigger finger twitching ever so close to the trigger of his rifle that had it safely just turned off as quickly as the word came in to get ready. Getting into firing position, he started waited for first waves to come out. He controlled his breathing making sure he had a consistent face while unconsciously savoring each take that could be his last and allowed his mind to clear out any unwanted thoughts that were unnecessary now. He didn't need any distractions messing up his aim.

The sounds from his Talon could be heard as Barr fired toward the first wave of enemies that was in his crosshairs. He didn't like taking life. He wasn't a psycho or a maniac, but he couldn't just let the Sith have their way with the whole universe.

 

[Serina Calis]

The Abyss Stares Back.
Location: ???
Objective: Autonomy
Allies: Darth Malum of House Marr | Horus Rhyne | Sophia of House Marr | Trayze Tesar | Lunara Azure | Gerwald Lechner | Darth Meritum | Allyson Locke | Lirka Ka | Domina Prime
Opposing Force: Jenn Kryze ​

The world trembled in anticipation of war, and Serina Calis reveled in every moment of it.

Suspended in the abyssal darkness, the descent felt infinite—weightless, intoxicating. The pressure of the ocean should have been suffocating, yet instead, it was… comforting. The crushing depths, meant to flatten lesser beings, felt like the embrace of a lover. The water clung to her, worshipped her, caressed her like a thousand unseen hands.

She breathed in deeply, the taste of metal and salt lingering as the rebreather settled over her lips. She had been quick—so deliciously quick—to snatch it from a dying mercenary, not out of necessity, but curiosity. Would she suffocate without it? Would she drown? The notion had tantalized her. Yet, as she adjusted it, she already knew the answer.

The pressure did not touch her. It was as if the deep itself bent to her will. The shadowy tendrils which stemmed from the wound in her once heart now sprang forth like a dark caress, shielding her from pressure of the deep abyss.

A slow, sensual smile curled her lips behind the mask as she reached up, fingertips dragging along the slick surface of her own skin. What am I becoming?

The answer whispered back in the rush of the current, it was her, she was it: Something beautiful. Something inevitable.

Around her, the remains of her mercenary force still clung to their cradles in the descent pods, though many had been stripped away by the violence of their entry. Those who remained were little more than fodder—weak things meant to absorb the first blows before the true warriors of the Sith Legions advanced. They did not know it, not fully, but they were here to die. It had been written in the moment they swore to her, blind and desperate for coin.

They are so much like her… so much like my dear, dear Duchess.

The thought sent a shiver of delight racing up her spine.

Serina twisted in the water, allowing herself to move freely, her limbs loose and fluid as she drifted amongst the debris of the drop. Some of the mercenaries still fought for stability, their panicked motions pathetic, their fear a tangible thing in the Force. She should have pitied them. She did not. Instead, she swam past them, moving with an unnatural grace, twisting with the current, letting it carry her where it willed.

A predator amongst lesser things.

The dark ocean around her swelled with violence. Explosions blossomed above and below, casting eerie pulses of light that flickered across the gleaming black surface of her halberd, Ebon Requiem. The weapon floated beside her like an extension of her own form, its etched runes glowing faintly in the deep, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

She felt her.

Even before the scanners had begun to blare their warning, even before the mercenaries' panicked cries reached her ears, Serina knew. She was here. The pressure of the water, the rhythm of the waves, the trembling pulse of the Force—it all whispered of her.

My Duchess. My Redeemer.

Serina did not speak her name. It was unnecessary. Instead, she laughed—a slow, melodic sound that twisted through the water like a song, weaving its way into the ears of those around her. A siren's call.

The first explosion rocked their descent pod as the Mandalorian strike force made their play, shaped charges detonating along the hull in brilliant bursts of energy and fire. The mercenaries panicked, screaming through the comms, their death cries barely registering in Serina's mind.

They were nothing.

Only she mattered.

Jenn had come for her.

Jenn had sought her in the dark.

The memory of their first meeting burned bright in Serina's mind. Vassek. Steel had clashed, but it was not the fight that had mattered. It had been the moment—the understanding that had passed between them. Serina had seen into her. She had felt her, peeled back the layers of iron-clad righteousness and found the truth beneath.

Power, Jenn had whispered.

And Serina had heard every unspoken word in the way she had said it.

She licked her lips as the pod lurched, its hull breaching in places, bodies beginning to tumble into the dark. The abyss welcomed them hungrily, and Serina watched as her mercenaries died, their forms twisting into shadow as they were swallowed whole by the sea.

She should have been frightened.

She was thrilled.

The explosion that finally breached the pod came with a violent hiss of escaping oxygen, and Serina was pulled from the wreckage like a specter, cast adrift into the waves. She twisted through the water, rolling gracefully, arms outstretched as if embracing the destruction around her.

The song of war had begun, and she was its first note.

The mercenaries flailed and choked. Some tried to engage their thrusters, others attempted to pull weapons free, their motions slow and clumsy in the water. She watched them struggle, amused.

And then she turned her gaze upward.

And there, amongst the shifting shadows of the deep, she saw her.

The Mandalorians moved with calculated precision, dark shapes outlined against the gleam of the explosions above. But they were nothing to Serina. Her eyes found only one.

The Duchess. The Redeemer. Hers.

Serina's breath caught, her pupils dilating in the darkness.

Jenn moved like liquid death, her form both monstrous and divine in the blackened water. The very sea seemed to bend to her will, shifting in her presence, parting before her as if in reverence.

Serina shuddered. She was perfect.

The comms crackled, filled with the voices of the dying.

Serina ignored them. Instead, she did what came naturally.

She sighed.

She flexed her fingers, her halberd twisting with her movements, light gleaming off its wicked edge.

The deep pulsed with the rhythm of their war, with the heat of their game.

Jenn had come to kill her. To silence her. To drown her beneath the weight of her convictions.

Serina smiled.

She would make her beg for more.

 

[Elise of House Marr]

OBJECTIVE 1: AUTONOMY

Direct tags: Sophia of House Marr Horus Rhyne Zanami Darth Malum of House Marr Lunara Azure
Location: Aboard Malum's Thranta Mothership.
The sith knight groaned looking at all the ships in the motherships docks, as she felt the world around her. She had quieted her presence in the force, a tactic she was fully aware others had done before. They were trying to be sneaky. But she couldn't imagine how that could work in ships like this. Then again, the ocean was a big place. And most people were used to detecting ships in space. She wasn't sure she liked all this aquatic endeavors, if she had to fight, she'd rather it be on solid ground. Ideally on her fight, though she could fly a ship just fine.

More war, more tedious, destructive, political, irritations. She had no inherent moral stance for or against it, it was just tiring. Time not spent doing something at least a little more entertaining. She made her way back up towards the bridge, where she found the others present. Near the end of Sophia introducing Horus, and Zanami asking to kill jedi. Elise had met her before. Though she wasn't so familiar with Horus Rhyne .

"I wander how big the number of people born to kill jedi is." She commented to Zanami tossing her helmet aside for the moment in a nearby corner before lamenting , "They can never settle these things with something entertaining can they? Have to shove everyone deep enough underwater to turn them to goo."

Elise couldn't completely help it, war was, at best, boring, at worst, exhausting. And this wasn't the kind her own skills, she felt, were best suited to. "Oh well, I'm here if you need my help, Malum. Watery paste or no." she ended that with a slight chuckle at herself.

Then gave a smile of greeting to Sophia of House Marr , "Hey again, sister. Having fun in the sea coffin yet?" and a nod to Horus, "And company. Gonna have to see how you do huh?"

Lunara Azure gave her own assessment of the situation to Horus, Elise chuckled, "That would be a bother wouldn't it. Really put a damper on things."

Absolutely none of this would be remotely surprising to anyone who knew her. Taking things lightly until she was actually in a fight was the norm. What use was nobility or power if you had to be dry and severe all the time? None at all. In her mind.

Spoiler: Equipment

Personal equipment:
Draika iv misina (Lava lightsaber)
Red lightsaber with sturdy hilt
Berserkers Hinderance
Enviro-Shield Generator with booster pack.

Datapad

 

[Kuhbee]

Kuhbee was nervous. This was his first real test as a Jedi and he was afraid of failure. If he were honest with himself he was afraid of getting hurt too, but he knew that Wookies were proud warriors and he did not want to let his tribe down by being a coward.

"Peace, Kuhbee - the grandmaster awaits inside to protect the complex. She wouldn't put us out here just to die."

Knight Lidos interupted the young cubs thoughts and though the words were comforting Kuhbee couldn't help but notice how the knight held his breath. He gave a low worried growl and nodded at Aadihr. He was trembling slightly but he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as his master Gil Horn had taught him. In and out... in and out... feel the Force flowing through .... find the center.... calm... practice the calm...

The calm before the storm.

Aadihr Lidos Zanami

 

[Trayze Tesar]

OBJECTIVE 1: AUTONOMY

---

CURRENT MISSION - Smoke on the Water
Immediate Goals -
1: Breach the Woostri Defenses
2: Commandeer or neutralize the anti-Starcraft defense measures

BLUFOR - Sith Order || Darth Malum of House Marr et al.

OPFOR - Galactic Alliance et. al.

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Open Frequency

---

Something about the sea called to him - even now with several feet of humidity clenching steel between him and the cold pressure of the deep. He had already made his goodbyes to Malum, and a few head nods to the rest of his even more estranged cousins in the "mainline" House of Marr, and he would have enjoyed this strange equivalent of a family outing.

Yet here he was again, alone in this cramped steel coffin, with lifeless killers all around him to surge forward into the fray.

His thoughts would become far more dismal, and only the recitation of duty - the half-mantra, half-maddened refocusing of his mind ignored by his droid peers. In his mind's eye, he felt the presence of one who he had given shelter to some time in the past, as well as the ill thrumming of Lirka Ka offending his sensibilities in the Force. And they were fighting.

With a whispered prayer to the Dead God, he waited to the breach as he would do his duty and undertake the less glamorous yet necessary deeds to help his Empire and his countrymen. However, if the Force was merciful and he would find the young Caelan still living and fighting against Lirka... well... Infighting wasn't something uncommon among Sith, was it?

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

As matters of individual import carried on within the steel hull of one of many Thranta Motherships, outside it, out into the depths of inky lost depths, engines and motors ran forward with ever-quickening efficacy. Scanners were quick to pick up on the movement in front of the Alliance's underwater base, as the attack by the Second Legion continued to draw away the enemy.

It seemed the enemy had finally noticed their presence.

One of the Thranta Spawns exploded in a paradoxically firey and watery mess, its insides contorting, as the droid crew in mere seconds were eliminated, as the turbolaser of one of the Alliance's submarines found its mark. Unfortunately, to stem the flow of the oncoming assault, it would take far more than what forces the Alliance had at its disposal at this sector, the Thranta Motherships rose out from the depths of darkness, as ever more Spawns seemed to sally forth from their hangers, the droids of Helix Solutions climbing out of their holes, to take up position alongside the submersibles.

Torpedo launchers fired, joined by that of turbolasers and heavy cannons, the water growing hot with the temperature of plasma exchanging hands, the sea becoming a kaleidoscope of red and blue fire exchanged, as the Swarm Drones as was their namesake were quick to cloister against the enemy, chipping away at shields and hull with their laser cannons, acting as a distraction as others zoomed past, or took up position to act as spotters, for the continuing fire of the rest of the Sith Armada.

Yet, the battle in the water, had always only been a sideshow to the main performance, as Malum gazed back through the viewscreen of his own Thranta Mothership, the lead of the assault, that had long since broken the Alliance's makeshift line to make for the base, even with this patrol having found them, with them on a collision course, the element of surprise would still be with them.

The Wolf and the Raven's plan would succeed.

Yet, as was the way of the world, concerns of impending battle seemed to always be distracted in the face of... well distraction.

The first was... a happy one, the voice of Quinn drifted over her mind in the teasing way in which she held herself with him... or well that was the way half of the time, the other half was the annoyance that he seemed to so easily bring out in those of the fairer sex. Still, he held the message dear to his heart, as a reply quickly fomented through the Force's swells.

"...Do not fear for me, Princess... instead promise me... I lost you once, promise me I won't lose you again."

The second... was happy too, but had a habit of quickly proving him wrong.

His sister, his beloved sister's voice came through soon after his own, spoken with the marriage of bemusement, charm, and arrogance that seemed well suited to her, though... it was perhaps the marriage that had begotten all the line of Marr, for all which of their family had inherited it. To think of their ancient forefather, their great and famous ancestor, his stoicism ever known and respected, would produce a House with such...

...He idly mused if Darth Marr had been those things too in his life.

It was a comforting thought as he turned his masked head to face his sister. His effortlessly beautiful sister, his sister that should not have been here, Tion had been a mistake... a horrible mistake, on so many different levels, but that fear which had gripped him, the thought of Sophia... his Sophia, to be brought under bondage and captured by the enemy.

...It might have been the only reason that Tion stuck in his mind for more than simply the atrocity.

Yet, even after that mistake, after that failing, here she was now again with him, invading the depths of the Alliance's space, invading the depths of this ocean, wherein within its holds lay some of the most dangerous of their enemy, trapped like rats, but entirely willing to battle like cornered lions.

He could have forbidden it, commanded her to stay in the safety of Jutrand or Alvaria, he might not have been the head of their house, he might not have been their father... but for all of Sophia's rebellious nature, when had she ever refused to listen to her elder brother.

Yet, he had not. For all that he would fear for her, for all his heart would pound in his chest, and sweat find itself by his brow, as his mind would assault itself with visions and thoughts of the worst of all possibilities...

...She was a Marr, she was a Knight of the Sith Order...

...She was his sister, she was Sophia...

She would triumph, and... at least in this way, he would be here to protect her.

...To never fail her like he had on Tion.

"...Oh, sweet sister. How beautiful you are," Malum retorted, undercutting the teasing insult entirely with his poisoned chalice, giving her an exaggerated once look over, "...After all, I cannot quite tell if you are ready for battle or a ball." Even beneath the mask, the raised eyebrow was veritably audible.

The narrowed eyes were on the other hand was invisible, as another joined their party, one who was a stranger to him, but one who had been invited to this operation by his sister, her red gaze, the same as his own rested upon him with a picture of... something he was unsure of.

But he was confident he misliked.

He was an older man, with a beard that sculpted his face, dignified in a way that was noble, confident in a way that was criminal. Raven locks might have made them twins, if not for all the other differences. The name flickered a memory in his mind, one which he had heard long ago while infiltrating the core... one which he had read some other time reading over Tsis'Kaar intelligence...

Horus... Rhyne...

The name was noble, by his approximation... Coruscanti he believed...?

Horus...

"...And might I inquire how my sister knows the Black Sun Vigo of Coruscant?" The mislike gave way to distrust, his sister was not naive by any means... though considering their sheltered upbringings... perhaps she was in some sense, in the same one that he was, a knight she might have been, but... Coruscant was far.

Though criminal organisations so very rarely existed within only a singular world, and the Black Sun was mighty indeed.

The distrust might have turned to something akin to hatred when her hand brushed along his... this was...

No...

If she had sought to distract him away from his duty, from the mission, she had succeeded severely, could it be... how did... her voice slunk away into the shadow of his mind, as he felt his heart hammer in his mind, a simmering rage married to the very stoicism that the scions of the Lord of Duty had to behold themselves to, or otherwise be lost away to the nothingness of having no name.

He simply... had to deal with this after this mission.

It was the only choice.

His voice broke his stupor, as he bowed his head, joined as quickly with his spine, "...Admittedly Lord Rhyne, you have me at a disadvantage, as my sister has not mentioned you," The eyes contained within his viewport visor, flicked for a barest moment towards his youngest sister, the fire still within him burning, "...But I am glad my sister still views me so highly... I would ask a favour of you, that you take the role of her sworn shield for this expedition. Alas for all her ability and capability, my heart still cannot countenance the thought of her in danger, and alas, I shall not be able to dedicate myself entirely to her protection." His first test, the reward if he would die quickly, or die screaming.

The opening of diamonds reminded all gathered of the presence of the Hellyni, though hers was a presence one was not likely to forget. She called him Gerwald... most interesting.

"...I believe regardless our fans shall be screaming and shouting by the time we announce our presence." The smirk was audible in the words spoken, as the Mothership began its upward ascent, the steel hulk of the base, coming into view, as through the side viewports, other Thrantan Motherships joined them in parallel, the moment of battle called, and the question now was only who would answer.

Zanami's voice stole his attention next, her bow accepted with the silence that was most fitting for those of the Tsis'Kaar, her request... "...I imagine Darth Keres will not much approve of me sending one of hers alone, yet... if such is your wish I will not deny you," It was a matter that did require thought, the Alliance as proven by their performance outside of the hull of their vessel would certainly look to engage the opening they created.

And there was not time enough to deal with them, with the importance of their objective at stake. Detaching one of theirs to deal with them, supported by the squads of droids deposited into the ulcer they would make... might prove the most tactical decision.

Even if like all, it was a risk.

"Prove yourself as the Sith and Tsis'Kaar I know you to be, but do not hesitate to call for aid, your purpose may be to kill Jedi," ...He did not reveal his true feelings behind that comment, using it for all that it was worth, "But my purpose for you demands you survive."

And then, the final member of their group, turning his head once more, the voice of another sister. Perhaps the oddest of all his sisters, but he supposed, all of them had their own idiosyncracies, in her own way, she was the sister he was most comforted being here.

Perhaps the only one of them that he would trust to watch his back. Such was not to say the rest were untrustworthy... but that Elise was a warrior in the same way he was a warrior, yet, too there were differences, where he was refined, she was brutal, and that within her, held the power of Darth Marr, that she held no compulsion wielding like a battle axe.

"Glad you have finally joined us sister, but I believe you have wasted a trip, the attack is about to begin, we will begin landing promptly."

And with those words, like magic, the Thrantan Motherships one by one begin to disgorge their contents, variable ordinance warhead launchers begin to sing, their warheads designed to burrow deep into plate and steel, his grand plan. While Lord Lechner distracted them at the hanger, as more and more Sith craft arrived.

They would descend from above. Malum only watched for a few seconds, watching as the engines of the torpedos slunk forward, parting the waters with their weight, as they slammed into the exterior walls of the base, and then rather than explosion, they kept pushing, kept pushing forward as like the water before it, the steel began to peel off to the sides. More and more torpedoes sailed forth, as more and more motherships sent forward their contents.

Turning away from the viewscreen, his cloak billowed in the wind of an artificial environment, raven locks swaying, as he walked with purpose towards the hanger, passing by the droids that scurried quickly into place.

War had come.

And he intended to win it.

Spoiler: Summary

Sith Aquatic armaments engage with the GA opposition, holding them at bay as Thrantan Motherships sail past to the Underwater Base.
Thrantan Motherships reach the Underwater Base and use specialised torpedoes to begin drilling into the Base.
Sith Droids begin landing within the Base.

Allies: Lunara Azure Sophia of House Marr Elise of House Marr Trayze Tesar Zanami Horus Rhyne Gerwald Lechner Allyson Locke Lirka Ka Domina Prime Darth Meritum Serina Calis QK-2510
Enemies: Gress D'ran Kuhbee Aadihr Lidos Valery Noble Kahlil Noble Jenn Kryze Caelan Valoren Barr Vexos Braze Kai'el
Mentioned: Quinn Varanin Adeline Noctua

---

 

[Sophia of House Marr]

​

​

Ally Tag: [SO] Darth Malum of House Marr Horus Rhyne Trayze Tesar Lunara Azure Gerwald Lechner Darth Meritum Allyson Locke Lirka Ka Domina Prime Elise of House Marr Zanami Serina Calis QK-2510

Enemy Tag: [GA] - Not Engaging Yet [OPEN]
Location: Thranta Mothership [Under Da Sea] --> Moving Into Facility
Objective: Autonomy
| Robes | - | Red Lightsaber | - | Cool Whip | - | Enviro-Shield Generator |
___________

Quote of the Moment:
"...Well...You need the villain. If you don't have one...The good guy can just stay home."
___________​

"...Oh, sweet sister. How beautiful you are," Malum retorted, undercutting the teasing insult entirely with his poisoned chalice, giving her an exaggerated once look over, "...After all, I cannot quite tell if you are ready for battle or a ball." Even beneath the mask, the raised eyebrow was veritably audible.

"Good."

The swift retort that left Sophia about her attire ought to have convinced her elder brother that she accepted his barb as a compliment. Just barely. Her free hand pressed dramatically against her chest whilst crimson eyes rolled toward the sky, entirely rebellious, and disrespectful, but Malum shouldn't have expected anything less. Just because they were off to face down the dogs of the Galactic Alliance didn't mean that she had to look like a peasant.

The littlest Marr had vowed to serve the Sith Order.

Not to take a vow of poverty.

The flippant conversation, however short, was a cover for the stirrings of apprehension building in the pit of her stomach. Scarlet-painted lips were set in a perpetual smirk, a shield, just as much as it was an expression. There was something buried deeply beneath her boldness that was as fragile as it was sharp. Sophia was not afraid of war. She had trained for it, lived through it, bled for it. But…She knew what it was like to be alone in it. To feel her energy wane. To reach for her weapon and find that it wasn't there.

To scream and know that no one would hear her.

Tion had taken something from her. She refused to name it. And now, she was here again.

With Malum, who had always protected her.

With Horus, who had promised violence if her brother tried to stand between them.

The sudden expectation bore down on her shoulders as if the weight of the water had bypassed the hull of the Thranta Mothership with designs to crush her instead. Sophia knew the second when Malum put the pieces together about her relationship with Horus. She didn't need to see his face, because the glimmering jewel, the elegant scion of House Marr knew the Heir better than he knew himself.

Her chin tucked down for a moment.

Malum was angry.

She hadn't expected him to be pleased but she hadn't expected to feel fire within him that was borderline rage. The raven-haired woman was unused to being the subject of his ire. His words to Horus were polite enough, but Sophia, the more she heard, felt her annoyance begin to spark. She had never needed a sworn shield any more than she needed minders on Jutrand. She wasn't a child and she had never wanted to be something that needed keeping. The hand that had brushed discretely against that of Horus Rhyne changed and defensively curled her fingers around his.

There was no point in hiding it now.

Sophia might have barked back immediately but she kept silent, motionless, when her brother seemed to know things about Horus that she didn't. Of course, he knew. She had a vague idea of the business that Horus conducted but the last thing they discussed were his financials and employment. Having it confirmed like that, out loud, felt invasive. Malum had no idea. How could he?

It was Horus that had come for her on Tion. She knew he would handle the interaction well because there was never any sign of hesitation in him. Not when he knew what he wanted. No matter his occupation, he was still the same man who had walked into her life, whispered promises in the dark, and held her together when she wasn't.

She inhaled sharply.

"You have no right to ask that of him, brother."

Her voice was barely audible, for the sake of the growing audience, but tension curled itself in her shoulders before she could stop it. Malum wasn't asking purely for her sake, rather, he risked embarrassing her and tarnishing her capability in the eyes of every person she was about to go to war with. It insinuated that she couldn't be trusted. That she couldn't hold her own. Moreover, Malum was testing Horus. He was treating this interaction like the battle they were about to walk into, an assessment of worth because that was what Marrs did. "I can handle myself."

The words tasted like steel on her tongue, a reminder more for herself, than him. She let the silence settle, then, sensing that the clock was swiftly counting down as people filled the area to capacity. They were gathering for the inevitable. So, she did what she always did.

Sophia smiled.

If Horus insisted on watching her back, well, who was she to deny him? Her attention shifted abruptly to her sister Elise of House Marr and she shook her head at the very "Elise" way she responded to an obviously edgy situation. There was something disarming about her that made some of her tension dissipate. "His name is Horus…This is my sister, Elise. And—I adore our sea coffin. There's nothing like impending doom to make one feel alive."

Lunara Azure made a comment that, truly, made her feel as if the woman was a being after her own heart. Zanami was the one who really had the right idea, though. Killing Jedi was the reason they had all assembled and with her ire lit, insulted, Sophia was certainly feeling quite murderous. She let the line of her body press lightly into Horus Rhyne while the room fell silent to observe the same viewscreen that suddenly had the full attention of the Dark Councilor.

"…The Black Sun, is it?"

The sound of ordinance going off kept her words soft, the light from the screen, leaving her effortlessly beautiful countenance afflicted with dark shadows. It was a quiet moment that turned toward the macabre because after waiting so long to strike, to attack when the Sith Order would have the best chance of success, the time had finally come. All the planning, preparing, would mean nothing if they couldn't do the one thing Darth Empyrean asked of them. Her brother stormed past his troops and crimson eyes followed him while her jaw set tight. She had known that Malum would bristle over Horus, had known, that he would step into the role of protector whether she wanted it or not. But hearing it? Feeling it? It made her insides twist in a way she did not care for.

The ship jolting slightly as they closed in was all the invitation she needed. She nodded at Horus and the pair followed suit, though, there was some part of her that was still quite bitter. The duo pressed passed the Dark Councilor and she had to resist the urge to stomp the chit out of her brother's foot. It would serve him right. "Do try and keep up.", she called over her shoulder, voice like velvet, wrapped around a dagger. It was his fault for not giving them the orders they'd asked for. "The first one to take the control center wins, Dark Councilor."

Her hand rose in the air, wrist twisting, in a way that was both elegant and mocking before she gave a partial bow.

"For the Order—Of course."

Sophia wound up heading down an alternate path in the Woostrian complex that seemed like it might lead them on a swifter course. There was no hesitation in her, because hesitation, meant that fear was winning. And Sophia of House Marr…Did not like to lose.

Spoiler: summary

Mad at Malum
Talks to a few people
Passed Malum, with Horus, deeper into the Woostrian facility to try and find the control center so the Sith can take over Woostrian defenses and turn them on the Alliance. If anyone wants to come our way, cool, or wants to send us some NPC's to poke - Pls feel free to reach out.

 

[Horus Rhyne]

Ally Tag: [SO] Darth Malum of House Marr | Sophia of House Marr | Trayze Tesar | Lunara Azure | Gerwald Lechner | Darth Meritum | Allyson Locke | Lirka Ka | Domina Prime | Elise of House Marr

Enemy Tag: [GA] - Not Engaging Yet

Location: Thranta Mothership [Under Da Sea]

Objective: Autonomy

The tension was tight, spun like a string on a guitar, ready to snap.

It seemed the elder son of House Marr was not happy with Sophia's choices when it came to who she spend her free time with. If that bothered Horus he didn't show it. Similarly Malum's reveal he knew of his connection to the Black Sun did not even inspire a twitch in his facial expression. Calm, steady and polite.

Even as Sophia's fingers laced into his, he squeezed back reassuringly.

Don't worry. That gesture murmured to her. We are okay.

The first break in expression was when Sophia responded for him. It always amused him when she went straight for the jugular. That's what turned his idle interest into fixation from the start. "Do not fret, Dark Councilor." Still not using his name, Darth or otherwise, but instead referring to his position of power within this Sith Empire. "I will watch your sister's back." His eyes calmly on his without a hint of mischief. "But we both know that the last time something happened, she did not fail. She was failed."

His hand softly settling on Sophia's shoulder, squeezing there.

"But now I am here. I won't fail her."

His attention flicked away from Malum, who seemingly had a million other things on his mind. He did not envy him. This is why he preferred to do his sort of work. Being a general seemed utterly dreadful.

"…The Black Sun, is it?"

"Well, you never asked." Horus responded with cheek of his own even as Sophia's other sibling, a sister this time around addressed them. She seemed to be less judgemental on the sorts that her sister hung around. Which already raised her in his regard. But he didn't put too much stock in it either, they were all Sith.

One word can come out their mouth while they were sharpening a blade behind their back.

"And company. Gonna have to see how you do huh?"

"Charmed, darling, truly. I aim to perform, I promise."

It seemed that Sophia had enough with the reunions though. The way she almost yanked his arm out of his socket when she dragged him away from them and into the action. That only served to amuse him however. This was all so... serious. Horus knew they were invading a sovereign planet and that there would be bloodshed to come.

But it still seemed all so awfully stuffy.

"You seem awfully eager to get away from them. That didn't go so badly, did it?" Even if his tone didn't sound too serious, she'd notice a blade in his hand now where there hadn't been one before.

He was ready to kill for her. That was the key thing- it was for her, everything he did today... would only be for her.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: To Ashes & Blood //:
//: Valery Noble //: Kahlil Noble //: Gerwald Lechner //:​

Hmm. The Shadow thought quietly as she followed the Wolf's martial steps. His movements were methodical, as they were just enough to cut through the unsuspecting. She paused, remaining deep into the Force Cloak she shrouded around her. She had been sensed, and a grin curled the edges of her lips. Allyson had hoped to surprise her former allies. Still, as quickly as Val had sensed the woman, she suddenly disappeared into the Force, fading away like a faint whisper. The mission was simple, but she was easily swayed from it.

Doubt plagued her mind. Maybe she was wrong; she had been before. Maybe things weren't as they had been presented when meeting others in the Alliance again. Allyson had always struggled to be around the others; she constantly felt like an outsider - not understanding the camaraderie that came with the Order. The Corellian pulled inwardly into herself as she tried to forget the plagued memories of the past. She didn't want to remember the once community found within her fellows. The moment that Allyson needed them the most, they had all turned on her.

Why couldn't they understand? Why couldn't they just believe her?

At that moment, as Allyson began to remember the cold durasteel of the prison cell and the weight of the shackles around her wrists and feet, Valery made her presence known. Hesitation bit back, keeping the Corellian anchored to her position. Soldiers ran around her as if they could almost tell she was there; she stood watching from a distance as Gerwald - her target confronted the Grandmaster of the Order - her once companion, the one person the Shadow had trusted with the stability of the council seat.

Maybe there was a way back?

Allyson pushed the dark cloud that crept against the back of her mind; a foolish thing like hope burned in her chest - choking the pain that she had felt with the memories of their betrayal. So called friends wanting to save her, yet abandoning the Corellian in a time of need. They were off, enjoying their retirements and lives and forgetting the lost souls in the cold. Stepping forward, Allyson crept towards the inevitable meeting. With each step, she remembered the messages she had sent to Loske - the woman who denied her death. Every message asked about her life, the kids, and if she was happy. All went unanswered, the promise to reunite - broken.

There was no community for the Shadow. There was no home.

But maybe?

Allyson moved silently, creeping hidden within the Force, her signature. Gerwald didn't attack; he offered a way out for the Jedi. Seeing the carnage coming through would be a wise choice for the pair.

They had a family.
They had friends.
They had people to mourn their deaths.

Valery had been a shadow; why could she live a fulfilled life without being expendable? The question had always hung in Allyson's heart. What had made them different? Allyson had always been a good soldier and a good shadow - missions that would have killed a group she accomplished on her own. Why was she not lucky?

Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts away; all they did was provide doubt for the woman. Allyson stepped forward, the force cloak fading and her signature returning. It remained untainted, as she was still blessed with the light. Where she stood, she cut off the Wolf's exit, and slowly, Allyson drew the bow - a weapon she had been infamous with. An arrow was drawn in the string, and she aimed towards Gerwald's general direction.​

"Val, Kahlil, take the dog's offer." ​

​

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Even as connected as they were, Valery still continued to surprise him. Even here, even during war, their affection couldn't be lessened for each other. Or tempered, for that matter. Try as she might to lean up and steal a kiss he still had to lean over to accept it, and there was little chance he wouldn't. A chuckle was all he had as he straightened back up, resisting the urge to tease her over it.

Really resisting. She'd know the urge was there, but he wasn't saying anything.

Last thing he wanted to do was distract her from what was coming next. Kahlil's gaze shifted with hers as he focused instead on the Force, reaching a hand up. Support from a distance, as always. Barriers to cover her, to let her focus on the offensive while runes flared to life under his guidance to catch those who'd stepped too close. Consuming ice, blinding light, pillars of flame and heat. He could replicate a good number of abilities through his runes, and he wasn't holding back.
He paused.

Their bond, their dyad, was strongest in battle. Their connection, the thoughts they shared not as two people telling each other but simply as if they were one person, already knowing what the other hand did, he felt something he hadn't expected. It was there only for a second if that before it faded, and his heart sank deep into his chest. There was no way that was right, right?

Kahlil faltered. The Force protected him, even in his lapse. A shot came, but his body moved on instinct before another rune erupted under the soldier that had shot him. His gaze turned to find where the Wolf had stepped through the door, addressing his wife. Giving the hollow offer to stand down and leave. No one was going to buy that from him, his reputation was quite the opposite.

For a moment, though, Kahlil's heart had seem to be lifted. Gerwald was there, alone. Not with another. Not with her, right?

"Val, Kahlil, take the dog's offer."

"You know very well we can't."

Right. That had to be the case. His gaze focused on Gerwald as he lifted his saber, the green pointed at the Sith as he stilled his mind. Allyson was here, an ally to fight the Sith. After everything his father had done to her, it was foolish to even doubt for a moment that she'd remained a Jedi. Their first meeting, all those years ago, still resonated with him.

Never once did she even talk about his last name. Who his family was. Just straight to business in just helping people. Being Jedi. There was no part of his mind that felt she'd be a traitor. He grinned after a moment, steadying his stance.

"You certainly don't have to babysit now, either, Allyson. We'll take care of him together, quickly."

He had faith, pure and simple.

Gerwald Lechner | Allyson Locke | Valery Noble