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

[Trayze Tesar]

OBJECTIVE 1: AUTONOMY

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CURRENT MISSION - Fire in the Sky
Immediate Goals -
1: Breach the Woostri Defenses (Succeeded?)
2: Commandeer or neutralize the anti-Starcraft defense measures (Succeeded?)
1: Escape the crumbling base!
1.1: Rendezvous with either Darth Malum of House Marr , Lirka Ka , and/or Caelan Valoren (Optional)
1.1.2: Covertly dispatch Lirka Ka (Optional)

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

OPFOR - Galactic Alliance et. al.

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Open Frequency || Lirka Ka || Caelan Valoren

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The gentle pressing of the Light pressed pinpricks into the wrinkles of his brain and the sinew of his veins. This, in conjunction with the buffeting of the structure caused Trayze enough confusion to be further delayed from his rendezvous - perhaps dangerously so.

Barking commands to his peers to begin the evacuation, the Kiffar redoubled his efforts - even now willing the Force outward in psychometric retracing of his steps, ensuring the senses of his mind's eye and physical ones were working in conjunction. Time was of the essence, and the longer Caelan Valoren contested the gladiatrix by himself, the more likely he was going to do something stupid and die to her.

Something that Trayze Tesar wouldn't permit.

Once more he had arrived fashionably late, the Jedi now initiating a second skirmish - this time to the death, both hers and his. Damned, idealistic fool - the stubble barely concealed the youthful vigor that the Kiffar had pitied on Cholgana.

Swiftness would be what determined the fate of them both, carried on by the grim prostignation his senses echoed, chilling his mind to it's icy, logical conclusion. One nanosecond would cause the tightly wound aura of the Force to churn and buckle like the pressurized currents outside the drowning base, as the tendrils coiled and coursed for their intended purpose.

Perhaps fate would be kind, that Jedi and Sith would meet eye - a knowing look between the two that they were not enemies and he would, at the very least, see Caelan to the surface. Perhaps fate would be good, and that those who dared to fashion the universe to their ideals would be worth it, mirroring the creation of all that is good in the Galaxy. But Trayze remembered the words of the possessed woman, the first rules of the Sith - Fate did not give, it took, and so he would take in kind.

He would not let the Force that Devoured take the soul of the boy he chose to save, Lirka Ka would not be delighting in the solace that came with desolation. All, even with the fingernails of his foresight scratching on the senses of shatterpoint, was still a gamble - there was no true certainty other than passion, and all that it would bring, all that it would free. For his passion was all he was, whether roared or nursed, and his greatest passion? Breaking the noses of one-note nitwit nihilists.

Several things happened at once - the Force burst out in a silent, almost barometric pressure foretelling the storm of possibility that was to inevitably break. For the Jedi, he would feel the gentle, almost fevered press of Trayze's telekinesis upon him, gently lifting him, working with the Jedi to either send him ricocheting through the ways to permit him precious minutes to flee. The Once-Sephi may find her masochism unexpectedly addressed, as the press of the Kiffar's mind was far rougher, like the fangs of a feline on the scruff of her neck, and yanked towards the Sith evacuation.

What would come next, once the slug-bolt hit the breaking point of the structure, would be far more difficult - directing the torrent of water away from Caelan, sweeping him and Lirka towards embrace. As metal struck metal, and the bone-harrowing crack of doom would be hissed, a decision would need to be made regarding Carnifex's most notorious slaver - one which would define not only their relationship, but who the Acolyte would become.

For he was all that would be - and so he would need to become.

 

[Lirka Ka]

Lirka stood, patient, there was a hunter's edge to her now. None of the sloppiness from before, the powers that had been all but overwhelming her had subsided long ago. All that remained was Lirka Ka the murderer, the underworld scum that had scrapped and killed her way to somewhere of import from the dregs. Risen by the millions of skulls claimed to her name by blade or by command. A monster. A petulant, narcissistic, monster.

She feigned hurt in her voice, but the thing oozed mockery even through the helmet.

"No!? Oh Caelan, don't tell me you're still sore about the arm? I could replace it for you, I have all sorts of replacement limbs from all over the Galaxy."

She let the oddity and evil of the comment stand. It didn't take a genius to figure out where a slaver could accrue there replacement bits and bobs. Callous evil, that's all Lirka was at the end of the day. She didn't call herself "Paragon of Primordial Darkness" for no reason, after all. A slow chuckle came from her as Caelan Valoren talked of sacrificing his life for hers.

"Oh Jedi, you really think it'll matter? You think there isn't another monster ready to take my place? That I don't have another body ready to dig itself from the mire of my existence, to wear my face, to share my mind? You think you have a chance?"

As if to accent her point, that perhaps he very well did have a chance, Lirka watched as the Jedi zipped past her. A gash appearing in the metal of her chest, thankful for the reinforcements and beskar she had kept in her vital bits to prevent her from total bisection. Lirka quickly spun around to face him, another flourishing twirl of her blade as another gash was cut into the floor. She lashed out, her blade looking for only a minor slash on his body. Far from a deathblow, just another wound to remember her by. Was she trying to keep him alive? Her words, humming with amusement followed.

"But really, Caelan, I don't think you got to make that decision. We weren't ordered to scuttle the facility boy, only secure it. Dare I say it, I think your masters decided you're just collateral. Anything to destroy the vile Sith though, right Jedi? How many people are going to die now, scared and alone as water fills their lungs? Every Dark Sider dead, with another monster ready to take their place!"

She laughed, this was war. Sacrifices, loses, people tossed away like collateral. Some cared more than others, but she doubted a Jedi could truly find it in themselves to be self-interested in their own lives enough to actually care about being sacrificed. Truly a foul religion. Prepared to battle to the grim end, Lirka was quickly interrupted as Trayze Tesar threw her back, to grip onto Lirka's foul voided form was as if to hold onto a wet slug. She barely landed on her feet, turning away from the Jedi to now face her "dear captain"

"Captain Tesar to the rescue, I should have expected nothing less."

She actually sounded glad to see him, a true rarity. Perhaps Lirka was finally growing soft in her old age, or the overflow of love for her Dark Master had put her in a particularly swell mood.

 

[Sophia of House Marr]

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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] --> Inside 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."
___________​

His voice in her mind was smooth, a private melody, that wrapped around her thoughts as they stalked deeper into the facility. His mental touch was familiar. Wanted. Sophia could feel the smugness dripping from his words as much as she heard it. She should have been annoyed. She wanted to be annoyed. But instead, a shiver of something else ran down her spine. A mixture of adrenaline from the battle to come and the eerie quiet of the watery facility. It felt like a big metal mausoleum. Did Horus want to tell her?

Or did he just want to see the look on her face when he finally did?

His next words erased any shred of annoyance, however, and her companion would feel her settle. This wasn't the time to be swept away with pretty words and promises. She should have been focused solely on the enemy, but it was difficult to do, when the offer to stay with him hit her so squarely in the chest. She didn't respond right away. To stay with Horus…

Where she wasn't just the littlest Marr, overlooked, and often dismissed. Where she wasn't bound by expectations she had never agreed to. But…She couldn't leave her family. She wouldn't leave Malum.

He needed her.

Sophia exhaled, pushing the thought away, ready to say something, anything—

Then Woostri screamed.

The ebony-haired noble didn't understand the response Horus gave, the hiss through his teeth, but she did understand it in the end. The death of thousands echoed through the Force like a detonation in the fabric of reality, a rupture Sophia had never felt before, never imagined could feel like this. This wasn't just violence. It wasn't just war. It was annihilation. Her breath stilled as the weight of it slammed into her senses, a cold, suffocating void that nearly made her knees buckle. As a Sith Knight she had been taught to wield death, to bring it upon the enemies of the Order with ruthless efficiency—But this?

She had never felt this before.

Her hands curled into fists, as if she could physically grip the sensation, as if she could control it. But she couldn't. It was power. Right there, ready, and ripe for the taking—Why couldn't she control it?

<<…BEWARE THE WATER…>>​

"Horus—", she didn't have time to react and instead found herself wound up in his arms, protected, from something that made her burn. The voice of the Empress rang in her ears but she didn't yet know what she was referring to. Beware the water? Crimson eyes glanced over his arm at a hulking creature she had only noticed walking around outside the facility. Not within it. What was it? The stench of the Light caused her to want to retreat into the body that comforted her—But he had ordered. Her eyes seemed to harden while her posture shifted. From soft, noble, lively little princess to something far more honed. She was Sith. She was Marr. She would not be shielded.

He brought his wrist to his lips, as the sin of pride filled his heart, "Dark Councillor Marr speaking from the primary controller centre of the Woostrian Defence Network, the orbital guns and defensive batteries have fallen under our control, requesting coordinates to fire." It was short, and sweet, exactly what it needed to be, a message of foreboding that would land in the ear of each and every Sith fighting, whether they be in the base itself, on land above, or the space above that.

Darth Malum of House Marr was already there?

Sophia sucked in a breath, tasting copper and static, then moved. In one moment, she was behind him. The next, she was beside him, her weapon igniting in a snap-hiss of crimson fire. The golem or whatever it was kept charging at them in the hallway and her blade struck fast, before it broke, and fell into a vicious chain whip. The creature was fast, unnatural form twisting too smoothly, too precisely in this small area. It avoided the burning arc of her weapon with an agility that did not belong to something so large and clunky. The air around it burned with Light. It made her feel physically feverish and sick.

But—She pushed through it.

Sophia ducked low, forcing herself inside its defenses before it could fully adjust, and with an open palm, she sent a detonation of pure kinetic power into its side. The impact sent a reverberation through the Force, the golem staggered—only for a second, but it was enough. That same hand shifted and with a deliberate twist, she sent a jagged spear of crimson energy, full of hate, and every dark emotion she could muster directly into its core. It screamed.

Or—Maybe she imagined it. Did this thing even have a mouth?

The construct lurched backward, but its body resisted the corruption of the Dark. It was built for this. Built to withstand her. Sophia glared and almost snarled, never realizing, until that moment how much she hated the Jedi and the Galactic Alliance. Her aura dripped with something venomous and raw that might take Horus by surprise. Sophia was always full of life, vibrant, and shining whenever they were together—But he had never seen this. Never felt, this.

She did hate them.

Because this was a weapon made to kill her kind.

Because this was what the Jedi did.

They built monstrosities and called it righteous.

Burned her people and called it justice.

They forced the galaxy to kneel and then wept when someone stood against them.

Sophia raised her hand to issue a command in High Sith but the facility suddenly shook, quaking so hard, that Sophia was tossed off her feet and into the nearest wall. The crack of her body hitting steel was unpleasant and uncomfortable to hear but she still scrambled to her hands and knees with a gasp and a wince. The attack hadn't come from the creature but her slowed reflexes were caused by the Force Light. It wore her down...Burning.

"All forces, this is Darth Meritum. The facility is collapsing. Inform the Mors Mon that Woostri's defenses will go offline in the next few minutes - then run for the service shafts at the bottom of the facility. There should be repulsor trains waiting for the facilities faculty. Secure one, and wait for my signal to retreat. I'll meet you there."

The underwater facility shook hard, again, and Sophia skidded across the floor...Sliding from one end of the hallway to the other. What had happened? Why was the facility failing? Had a bomb gone off? She was trying to get back to her feet but she felt like she was made of gelatin. What of Malum? What of Elise and the others? "Horus...Horus we've got to go."

But the golem was still there, burning with goodness and light - But never, had Sophia encountered something more menacing.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

His blade left a gash in her armor, but didn't make it through to what lay beneath. Too touch was the armor in her vital areas. In fact, it was very much like fighting a Mandalorian, which he had done twice before. Their armor was overly resistant to his blade, and he was starting to become irritated with that fact. The idea of carrying multiple weapons into battle, of becoming a walking armory, didn't sit well with him, but if he was going to be facing people utilizing such armor, he needed a weapon created to go through it.

"Your words are no more poison than that which was on the dart you shot me with," he said as he spun his blade to parry her strike. "And no, I don't care about my arm."

He stepped back and twirled his blade before facing her again.

"There is always another light and another dark. Where one falls another rises. That is the nature of all life. We are always destined to fight one another to maintain balance in the Force. Will it have a grand effect on the galaxy if I sacrifice myself to stop you? I cannot say, but even the small things can have grand repercussions. The only thing I could say for certain is that you would not be alive."

It didn't honestly matter to him if he went down with the station as long as Lirka perished with it. His people? They would find another leader. He had put into place, already, an emergency contingency should something happen to him and there be no Valoren heir. He would not allow the other noble houses to do battle to take over what his family had been leading for centuries. They would survive without him. Yes, he knew what his master Dreidi Xeraic had said, but this was one of those time where he did have an advantage over his opponent, and where his opponent was so drastic it was worth the sacrifice.

At least he had an advantage until Trayze appeared.

"Trayze?" the surprise was laden in his voice.

To his further surprise, he found the Force pressing against him, directing him away. And then a rushing torrent of water exploded from where bullet struck weakened structure. He was shoved back and away from the water, which also seemed to be directed away from him as well. Was Trayze once again trying to save him, while at the same time trying to save Lirka? Either way it worked because the water cut him off from them, as did the fact he was shoved down the hall away from them.

But Caelan just stood there watching them through the water, wishing he had the mastery of Telekinesis to stop their escape. He had nothing against Trayze, but Lirka had to be stopped.

"Next time, Lirka. Next time."

---

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

TAGS: Lirka Ka | Trayze Tesar ​

 

[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

Gerwald’s instincts roared in warning the moment the shift happened. The battlefield was in constant motion, but this, this was something deeper. It was manipulation of space and presence, a disruption of the natural rhythm of the fight. The Jedi’s trickery had put Valery where Kahlil had once been, and now her violet blade came for him, precise and unrelenting.

He reacted on instinct.

The crimson blade, already in motion, twisted mid-arc. His grip adjusted, muscles coiling as he pivoted his body. Not to retreat, but to redirect. Instead of cleaving through empty space or overcommitting to a missed strike, he turned the downward momentum into a sidelong sweep, forcing Valery to shift her trajectory or risk meeting his saber in a contest of power.

But she was fast. Faster than he preferred to deal with.

The tip of her saber still sought his ribs, and he had mere fractions of a second to respond. A growl rumbled in his throat as he let the Force flood his limbs, pushing his body just past its limits. Rather than withdraw, he surged forward. A step into her guard, a subtle shift, and her blade skimmed along the side of his armor instead of sinking into flesh. Pain flared, but he didn’t stop.

His free hand, armored and brutal, shot forward toward her wrist.

“Enough of your games.”

His voice was steady, but there was weight behind it, a wolf cornered yet unbroken. He knew the Jedi fought with tactics beyond brute strength, shifting and phasing in ways that made them difficult to pin down. But Gerwald was a warrior that was born and bred for war. He had hunted before, and he was not above getting dirty in this fight.

If Gerwald caught Valery’s wrist he would wrench it, using her own momentum against her. As he made the attempt, the Lupo felt something in the atmosphere change.

Allyson Locke was angry.

He felt it before he saw it. Her anger was palpable. The Jedi Shadow was close to crossing a line, and it brought a smile to his face. When the hue of her lightsaber blade became the same shade of crimson as his, the Dread Wolf could not help but laugh.

“See what you have done to her,” his accusation would be more a blow than his weapon would ever be able to land.

There would be no more time to react however.

The impact came like a hammer from the gods.

Gerwald felt the tremor through the walls, the deep, bone-rattling shudder that rolled beneath his feet. A heartbeat later, the sound followed, a deafening explosion that tore through the complex. The air itself seemed to recoil, dust and debris kicked into the corridors like the dying breath of a wounded beast. The torpedo had struck.

For a moment, the battle around him became distant, muffled beneath the weight of destruction. His instincts screamed at him, years of war conditioning him to recognize what came next. Structural collapse. Chaos.

Then, like a shadow across the Force, a voice cut through the maelstrom.

Darth Meritum’s warning rang with finality, a stark contrast to the rage and defiance that had fueled the fight until now. This wasn’t a suggestion.

Gerwald exhaled sharply, his mind calculating in real time. He turned, gaze sweeping over the battlefield. He could not leave Allyson. She had saved his life, keeping the Force Light from causing any permanent damage. The Wolf always paid his debts.

“We have to go,” he exclaimed as his hand gripped her arm and tugged on it. “Now!”

His grip tightened as he pivoted and threw the woman over his shoulder like she was nothing more than a sack of produce.

With a growl of frustration, he turned toward the blast door which Kahlil had repaired earlier. A jolt of force energy surged from Gerwald’s palm, tearing the door open once more.

Turning on his heel, Gerwald moved, attempting to vanish into the chaos.

Spoiler: SUMMARY

Gerwald pivoted his lightsaber in an attempt to close the opening Valery took advantage of.
Valery successfully struck Gerald’s armor, damaging it and leaving him with a burn.
Gerwald attempted to grab Valery by the wrist and witnessed Allyson Locke bleed her crystal.
Mertium said leave… so Gerwald is leaving… with Allyson flipped over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes… boil’em, mash’em, stick’em in a stew.
Permission to cart Allyson Locke away.

 

[Trayze Tesar]

OBJECTIVE 1: AUTONOMY

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CURRENT MISSION - Fire in the Sky
Immediate Goals -
1: Escape the crumbling base!
1.2.1: Ensure the survival of Lirka Ka (Optional/Mutually exclusive)
1.2.2: Covertly dispatch Lirka Ka (Optional/Mutually Exclusive)

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

OPFOR - Galactic Alliance et. al.

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Open Frequency || Lirka Ka

---

Silent eyes regarded each party, his senses barely registering the conceited greeting that Lirka gave him. Already he needed to focus his mind to ride the bursting streams of saltwater to salvation.

All he needed to do is keep his breath.

As the sheer, uncompromising force of nature carried him, he allowed the Force to spring forward - pushing and altering him through the memory of salt, shadow, and all in the oceanic depths that called it home. These memories flooded his mind, the singing temptation to open his mouth and filter oxygen his body could not find like the fish of the deeps - but instead, he forced the ocean to drag him to his own escape route.

But he was not the only passenger of this strange current, for tendrils bore the Slavecatcher like a net to rescue a thrashing beast... but the compassion was conditional. He intended only to rescue Caelan Valoren , Lirka's continued existence would be a consequence, rather than his intent. Three chances she would receive, to flow with him, to air, to safety. If she intended to pursue her torment of the Jedi, she would find upon that third chance, she would be too far from him, too far from the Sith, too far beneath the waves.

It may be unethical for a man of his station to allow someone to die under his responsibility - but the Once-Sephi never submitted to anyone but Carnifex, and her own actions will deliver her doom or evasion.

 

[Lirka Ka]

It was the grand irony of Lirka Ka, she who despised Mandalore and its people so greatly, was not all that far off from one. Loathe as she was to admit it, for a person like her: the Rats of long dead Moridinae did have a couple nice tricks when it came to dealing with Jedi and their lot.

The words of Caelan Valoren reached her ears as the distance between them grew. Never one to leave a conversation unfinished, Lirka let herself shout in retort: let it be a duel of words instead of blades for as long as she could muster.

“The nature of life is Dark! The primordial end-of-all-things! The nature of life is strength, to carve a path out of the grasping hands of oblivion! Your lot seek only to misled, to breed weakness! You will see it one day, Master Jedi!”

He uttered the call of her death, and all Lirka could do was laugh. A challenge? Let it be so.

“Oh, Caelan. Were it so easy!”

She heard the name of Trayze Tesar as they finally separated. Their rivalry would rise again another day, and it warmed the cold dead hearts of Lirka that Caelan would know there was true evil in this Galaxy: and its name was Lirka Ka. Lirka made no attempt to lash out the Jedi, how could she? Lirka was a show woman at heart, and what good tale ended at a single battlefield? She needed him to spread her name, to let the Galaxy know of her foulness. That is all she could hope.

They flew through the ocean, and Lirka was thankful for the oxygen supply in the suit. It offered her the chance to not just shut her mouth.

“Of course you two know each other!”

Trayze was truly an oddity. Lirka had known her fair share of Jedi in her long days, but she was allowed to. Trayze? Well, she could never let him get away with something like that. Even if he was the only thing stopping her from sinking to the depths, what kind of “friend” would she be if every chance to banter and taunt wasn’t taken?

 

[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 things went wrong, they went really wrong, it was never a matter of half measures and small disasters. One moment they'd been slicing through the alliance soldiers like a hot knife through butter, the basic troops that the alliance had thrown at them unable to face upto the maelstrom of fire and lightning Malum had unleashed on them, with a little help that is. The troops had broken like a cheap china plate leaving the control room in their control as the call went out to the world calling for targets.

It should have been the end of it, it should have been the moment that assured their victory. And then, the Jedi in their typical attitude of burning down the galaxy to have their way had struck. Torpedo's scythed through the water at the command centre at the same time as her companion fell to his knees, threads of the lightside reaching into him as if trying to reach into his core, to rewrite his entire being in that insidious wat the lightside had. There was a time she would have celebrated this, would have tried to learn from it.

Once upon a time.

Now though, now it just proved to be a distraction, an annoyance she would rather not be dealing with right now. Yet, in the universe's time honoured tradition of messing with her it was just one more thing adding to the mess that had been dumped into her lap. She could deal with any one of the things at once, but not both of them at the same time. Icy blue eyes flicked back and forth between the downed Sith and the oncoming attack, that moment of hesitancy costing her the ability to deal with anything as the torpedoes struck, the explosion tearing back the hull of the station as a emergency forcefield flickered into place. The impact alone was enough to throw Lunara off her feet, the impact rippling through the station, leaving consoles sparking and bulkheads creaking and broken.

Droplets of water had been flung through the room, like the spray from an ocean, and while Lunara normally loved the ocean, feeling the cool spray of the waves, this wasn't that pleasant ocean. Each droplet burned like acis where it landed on her skin, the lightside energies enfused into the water burning her skin as she scrubbed a hand over her face before looking up at the ship driving in towards them as the forcefield flickered under the pressure.

"Malum…we need to go."

She could feel something happening around the Dark Councillor, some energies, person working on him, purging the light from his system as the blonde pushed herself to her feet and staggered over to him as the station rocked dangerously.

"Like right now."

A delicate hand lashed out, slapping the man upside the back of his head, as if she could slap some sense into him. Blue eyes glanced up at the forcefield as she saw sparks dancing from the wall, her hand extending hurriedly in an instinctive reaction as she threw her will against the wall and water as the field short circuited. The lightside surrounded them, the very essence of the water fighting against her will, her control as Lunara drew on more and more power, face twisting in concentration. The brush of the water against her mind hurt, burned, it was the kind of deep burning pain that she had no defenses against. It felt like the core of her being had been set on fire as she tried to hold back the pressure of the ocean, all the pressure that seemed to focus jsut at this point like a battering ram demanding to be let through. Lunara sucked in a struggling breath, limbs shaking as she dropped in to lean against the man's side so she could hiss at him.

"I don't think I can hold it back much longer."

 

[Darth Meritum]

Location: Train Platform 4a, Control Room​

As angry as the Jedi had become, Meritum couldn't be bothered to pander to a Jedi's ego. What mattered more was survival - and what else was going to come of running? A Sith calling him a coward? That'd likely end up poorly for all parties involved regardless. For now, his focus needed to be on getting to the bottom floors.​

​

It was a terrible thing, scorched earth. The Alliance seemed to have realized that their odds were better if they sunk this place than allowed the Sith to take control of it - in their shoes, Meritum would have done the same. When all hope is lost, it is better to salt the earth than allow it to nurture your enemy, lest they use that newly found sustinence to feed another campaign. As guns across the world would come off line, or be put back onto localized networks missing critical communications infrastructure, the hub of all their connections burned beneath water.​

​

The Force Light sigil that had consumed this place wasn't gone, but it had weakened from the seismic activity of its epicenter. Meritum could see, but his power was limited here among the Zen of Light. Like a blinding sunrise, just low enough to keep you staring, but high enough to make it hurt. A ladder, a cut through some retreating Alliance Soldiers, and he was nearing the bottom.​

​

He hadn't heard radio chatter coming back, and that wasn't a good sign. As one of the train control rooms came into view, he slipped in without a moments hesitation. There were consoles, holo screens, train schedules, and more than a few buttons and levers Meritum couldn't begin to understand. He swore under his breath, moving towards the windows that overlooked the platform.​

​

Glancing only for a second, he saw a small contingent of Alliance Forces. Of course he had the unfortunate luck of choosing the exact train they had chosen to escape on. From the looks of it, they were even setting up defenses - turret emplacements, makeshift sandbags. Nothing that would make this any easier.​

​

The door slid open behind him, its harsh hiss forcing his attention back. His lightsaber came first, but he allowed it to remain unignited for the sake of sound and noise. To his surprise, and pleasure, it wasn't an Alliance member nor a Jedi. He beamed, seeing that the frame of the door was broken up by a Sith trooper. One he recognized.​

​

"Carpathian. It's good to see you."​

​

"Darth Meritum? I didn't expect to see you here already."

"I work fast - you know this."

The two had met long ago, and Carpathian was the psuedonym of one of the Eternalist's agents. He had been embeded in unaligned legion support for this operation to make sure their own forces weren't planning sedition or cowardice in the face of the enemy. He hadn't expected to meet him, and considering how bloody it had been, he was more surprised he had survived at all. Even the hard-as-nails tough ones tended to learn about how immortal they truly were in the meatgrinder.​

​

"What's the situation?", Carpathian said as he lowered himself.​

​

"Ten on the platform. Light emplacements, but they aren't getting any lighter."​

​

"Damn. You don't look like you're up to take care of ten men."

"No, I'm not. Blame a Jedi and my foolishness for that one."

Carpathian offered a quiet smile, but turned his attention to the controls. He studied them for a moment then nodded;​

​

"I've operated trains similar to this. Woostrian contractors built a rail system on Barbatos some years back - had to use it to deliver a package."

Meritum knew what the man was talking about, unfortunately. During the Imperial Civil War, Barbatos had become a hot bed for terrorist activity - and one of the leading causes of that terrorism was the Eternalists. They justified it as a way to make the behemoth that was the 10th Sith Empire fall, but Meritum always thought their methods more crude than necessary.​

​

"Sounds like we have that covered then. We'll need to wait for backup - at least for a moment. If all else fails, we'll make a new plan.", Meritum said as he moved to find some comfort in the corner of the room, waiting for the next arrival to break in.​

 

[Braze Kai'el]

Meritum, the so-called sage of schemes,
A master of nothing, lost in his dreams.
Useless, alone, with power so faint,
His mind a desert, devoid of restraint.

A Jedi's ego, you cannot feed,
For Meritum lacks the will to succeed.
Survival's his motto, a coward's retreat,
Wasted potential with his feet.

Beneath the earth where the light grows weak,
Meritum stumbles, incapable, and meek.
The Force, a burden, a gift he can't use,
A blind man in battle, destined to lose.

He claims to work fast, to act with skill,
Yet here he stands, frozen, and still.
The train's controls—he can't even grasp,
A soldier of nothing, stuck in his past.

The Alliance fires, but his heart beats cold,
For Meritum's plans have all turned to mold.
A coward, a fool, lost in his plight,
The galaxy turns, and he's out of sight.

So let him wait, in corners so dim,
For backup that will never come for him.
Meritum, the name whispered in shame,
A relic, and a failure, devoid of fame.

Braze the Bold, a storm on the rise,
With retribution that darkens the blood-red skies.
Meritum's underlings, they all must fall,
For Braze, the lone wolf, answers the call.
He strides with fire in his veins,

A warrior breaking their chains.
His blade, a flash of relentless might,
As fear takes hold in every sith's sight.

They stood in ranks, thinking themselves strong,
But Braze's wrath was swift, where they didn't belong.
One man against armies, his fire never waned,
With every strike, their lives were drained.

The first fell in silence, no screams, no cries,
Just the cold of death in his vacant eyes.
The second was quick, a brutal twist,
A life snuffed out, a name ceased to exist.

Each soldier crumbled under Braze's might,
A shadow consumed by the endless fight.
He carved his path through blood and bone,
A true force of nature, and utterly alone.

The underlings scattered, no chance to flee,
For Braze hunted them with ruthless spree.
Through every door, across every floor,
His presence alone, leaving nothing to restore.

Meritum's minions--worthless and weak,
Faced Braze's fury, now feeling the bleak.
One by one, their hopes turned to dust,
For in Braze's hand, only death could trust.

Braze moved like a storm, unstoppable, and wild,
A vengeful ghost, no longer a child.
In his wake, nothing but ruin and dread,
For Braze the Bold had slaughtered them dead.

And when the last of them fell, crushed and torn,
Braze stood tall, his resolve being reborn.
A solitary warrior, unbroken, untamed,
Meritum's reign, forever defamed. ​

 

[Darth Meritum]

Meritum sneezed, his nose irritated. He cringed at the snot.​

​

"Are you alright?", Carpathian asked.​

​

"No. I get the oddest sensation someone just made a poem about me, and I'm not sure why."​