Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!
The world was fire and ruin, a haze of smoke and debris still settling from the blast. Alana Calloway felt the weight of Tamsin Graves beneath her as she pushed herself up, armor scraping against duracrete. She hadn't even thought—just moved, just reacted. A soldier's instincts, hammered into her by training she barely remembered.
Her ears rang, her head buzzed. She'd survived. Again.
Alana looked up. The storm above churned in unnatural fury, a reflection of something even darker brewing below. Tamsin.
She could feel it.
The girl's presence had a weight to it, something thick and cloying, a shadow pressing in from the edges of Alana's mind. She was speaking—introducing herself. As if this was a normal mission, as if the carnage around them was just another day.
"Are you good to move on?"
Alana flexed her fingers. A dull ache throbbed through her limbs, but nothing was broken. She nodded, rolling her shoulders. "I'm good."
But the battlefield didn't give them the luxury of deciding their next move. The angel descended.
Alana's breath hitched, her body locking up for half a second. She had seen Jedi before. She had fought them before. But this one—this one felt wrong. It moved with grace, its wings folding in behind it like some vision from an old, forgotten myth. Then, its saber ignited, and the world bled red and gold.
Blaster fire erupted. The angel moved effortlessly through it, bolts bouncing harmlessly off its blade. It was fast—too fast. The way it flowed, the way it waited, as if daring them to try harder.
Tamsin turned to Alana, grinning like a wolf scenting blood.
"I mean, it did just try to kill us. It's only polite to return the favor."
Alana barely registered the movement of Tamsin's hand reaching for her weapon. What caught her attention instead—what rooted her to the spot—was the voice.
"The girl, protect her, she is of my flesh. She is my vessel and conduit."
Alana's stomach twisted.
That voice didn't belong to Tamsin. Which meant that some force nonsense was underway.
It slithered through the cracks in her mind, something else speaking through the young woman, something that wanted, that claimed.
And Alana—Alana was supposed to protect her now.
Her hand had already moved before the thought finished forming. It wrapped around the HG-88 Big Iron on her hip, fingers pressing into the cool metal. Her body acted on instinct, programming kicked in, as she contemplated their options.
She thumbed the gun to engage the verpine conditions, feeling the hum of the pistol as it became ready to fire.
She met Tamsin's gaze, the options flashed in her mind. Engaging a jedi in the open, under these circumstance while protecting a VIP, difficult if not fool hardy.
Fighting retreat, lead them back, chokepoints- a strategy came to Alana's mind.
"We draw it's fire, fight it where we have the advantage. In the open, that would go to her." Alana sated, raising her pistol. "Data center, go, I'll lure her along."
She hoped she wasn't just getting herself killed.
As the angel continued to defend, Alana would fire off her Big Iron, the Verpine scattergun aimed towards the jedi, and would follow after Tasmin as they set off.
She had no clue how the hell auto-tracking rounds worked, but she wasn't about to stick around to find out.
She didn't know why she were here, not really. There was a lightsaber that she constantly moved from her hand to her hip and back again like a nervous tick, one she wasn't quite as aware of as anyone else had been before the departure. It wasn't quite as surprising to her, perhaps not even as insulting as it ought to be, that she was more or less forced into showing up to the main event quite a bit later than everyone else - not when she had what was more or less her twin, a relation given out of respect to the memory of someone that had been effectively a clone of her, left buried in the dirt and no other siblings from the same mother for her father to replace her with if she died.
'Taking what you want means getting your hands dirty, Amara.'
An ocean world was beneath her - them, a few other late-comers to the party - and she felt her stomach drop as she watched them come in close through the viewport at the front of the landing vessel. Up until now her biggest fights had been gang wars, street shootouts at best and bar brawls at worst, nothing approaching an actual forreal war. She was out of her depth, no matter what latent strength she might someday grow into lurked beneath the surface there wasn't anything she could do in the present-day to make that reality come any sooner, but she was already here and there wasn't any turning back.
'She didn't run away.'
The girl who'd taken the name she'd been given at birth from her was the real reason she'd chosen to show - if not for her she'd still be sleeping in bed at home, waiting for her father to wake her up for some watered-down training. She could feel the rocking as they encountered air resistance, the sinking sensation turning into a churning which nearly made her sick, before the lurching of the ship as they suddenly touched down. Accelerated aging had robbed her strandcast of a childhood just as much as the coma had deprived her of her own, unlike the rather anxious Amara, however, Vesta had already gained enough confidence and skill to take on an apprentice - and then fight for the defense of a planet against an invading force filled to the brim with much more intimidating enemies than Jedi and regular soldiers. As the door to the shuttle slid open she ignited her blade, the heat reaching her at the same time as she jumped out onto the ground below.
The risk was the same for Amara, now, as it had been for her strandcast then: death.
"Hit the deck!" A GADF officer yelled. A boom followed. Dust and rubble scattered in the wake of fast, uncalculated, small-scale destruction. Ran turned from the holotable and stared down at the damage to the southern wing's exterior wall. A gaping hole, a new window, made by a landspeeder. One that GADF forces would take advantage of. The dust hadn't even begun to clear yet a volley of blue blaster bolts flew through the opening as did red from the opposite side.
Other soldiers lifted the wrecked landspeeder that had pinned their comrades beneath them. Those who weren't crushed were injured. Their screams pierced Ran's ear and the force. Battle Medics took the dangerous job of removing the injured from the line of fire. "That was thrown by a force user," One of the soldiers standing by the holotable informed the others. "We could use a Jedi down there to combat him, Ma'am." He said with his eyes on Ran. "I know," She replied over her shoulder. "I will handle him." She said resolutely before jumping up onto the tier's railing. "I sense a hard fought battle to come, for your men and me. May the force be with you, Captain."
"May the force be with you, Master Jedi." The Captain said with meaning. Ran could feel it.
With that Ran jumped from her perch on the highest tier. In a freefall, she used the force to slow her descent, to strengthen her body, and soften her landing on the ground floor. A snap-hiss followed and the sapphire blue light of her saber shone off green skin and chemical yellow eyes. Another pulse in the force she sent to the darksider on the outside of the building's walls, goading him, daring him to enter. She'd put an end to his reckless action and more.
Helix strode down confidently from the shuttle, seemingly unbothered by the howling rainstorm. This form was built to survive far worse. Water, no matter how mightily projected, was of no concern. In some places, where the rain struck most violently or shards of debris were hurled by the wind, his surface was scoured away, but the damaged portions simply flowed back together again with liquid grace. The three glowing clumps of nanites that served as photoreceptors swept the scene of carnage before him.
"Stay with the shuttle." He instructed the four droids. "Protect it with all your might." He knew they would, too. Whether it would fly again was a question for later. If it came to it, he'd have little trouble stealing aboard another ship, or simply taking one. All technology was his to manipulate.
"Well then." He said pleasantly as Zachariah Conway
left. "Looks like it's just you and me, Strosius." He checked to ensure his gear was indisturbed by the rough landing. Apparently satisfied that all was in order, he continued. "Our destination, if my data is correct, is not far ahead now. By this time the initial strike force should have greatly softened up their defenses. We may use the chaos to our advantage."
"My forces will eliminate any curious searchers who may have noticed the crash. The data is ours to take. Once secured, it goes without saying that we will retreat with all due haste." He gazed up toward the spire in the distance. It would probably be attracting the majority of the defenders' ire. "I would have preferred a closer landing, but I calculate it should only take minutes to reach. Most likely outcome: they are too busy with the armies on their doorstep to notice two solitary infiltrators."
If this were not the case, of course, he was a nigh-indestructible nanocolony, and Darth Strosius
was a Sith Lord. What was the worst that could happen?
Having discarded his Jedi adversary like he was nothing, the newly christened Darth Latens continued to walk towards the shielded city. His boots continued to crunch on the glass beach beneath him, each step turning the beach into a slightly sharp and dangerous dust.
Unfortunately for his foe, Latens felt him before he saw him. The force screamed at him, making him aware of the danger from behind as the Jedi attempted to take him out. The force detailed every movement the Jedi was making, allowing his Sith counterpart to react accordingly.
Zachariah spun on his heels, reaching out his gloved hand to hold the Jedi in the air just inches outside of lightsaber striking distance. The Sith Knight tightened his grip through the force, ensuring the Jedi was held at his will no matter how hard he struggled.
"I thought you'd have taken the hint" he commented, amplifying his voice through the force so that it attacked his adversary from every single way possible, including in his own head. "The darkness grants me power unlike anything you've ever witnessed, and you believed you could strike me down?"
The young Sith Knight walked in a circle around his prey that was hung there as he spoke. He studied the Jedi, the way he held himself. He studied his weapon, the lightsaber powered by a crystal that produced a blade of blue. He wasn't overly impressed.
"I must assume you've never faced a Sith before" he commented as he used the force to deactivate the weapon his foe. Usually, he wouldn't bother wasting his time toying with a victim, wouldn't usually leave them floating in the grip of the force. Especially when they had such a time sensitive mission to complete. This one however clearly hadn't learnt the first time.
Lightning crackled throughout his body, powered by anger and hatred within him. Force Lightning was one of those skills favoured by Darth Malum of House Marr
and it wasn't at all surprising that his apprentice had also taken a certain liking to the ability.
Walking closer to his foe, he traced a finger across his jawline. Lightning would leave the body of the Sith and transfer across to the body of the Jedi, lightly but enough to cause a tingle. Zachariah was playing with his food and he was having great fun doing it.
"I'm sorry" he commented, his voice truly sincere as if he was actually sorry. "I wish there was a world in which you could walk out of here alive" he stated as he stepped away from the Jedi. "Unfortunately, we both know there isn't"
Zachariah let go of his grip in the force, replacing it with volts of force lightning barrelling straight towards his foe as he dropped towards the glass beach.
Outskirts of Gopsthal
[PvE]
Target: Central Archive and Computation Building Soundtrack
Taking lead of even the older troops amongst them, Naami claimed rightful command over their small squad given that he was clearly the most powerful in the Force. It was the natural order of things in his mind and he ensured Haro Aven
knew he was second in command. The zabrak's bearing wasn't unkind to their wartime companions, but the young man kept things terse and business like. There was no point mincing words about it, odds were good that some of them wouldn't make it back. Those were the silent musings of an already war torn soul despite his youth, but Naamino Zuukamano gave them his word that every one of their actions would be meaningful that day.
Their Empress' support had certainly cleared the start of a path, the shield providing some respite from the elements, but they needed to carve out the rest themselves. Soon they made their way through the protection granted by Srina Talon and the chaos of war soon found them. Marching on through roaring wind and punishing rain, the small group made its way deeper into the city. The first wave of opposition they met was non-humanoid and almost entirely comprised of droids as well as a few auto-turrets.
To the likes of a Sith acolyte, this opposition was mere annoyance, but Naami could not allow impatience to cloud his judgment. The teen activated Woe and barked orders to the troopers, trusting Haro to do what was needed. They progressed in tight formation with the armored zabrak taking the point of their spear.
Landing pods, the whizzing crack of projectiles, and an uptick in torrential rain all contributed to the rising tension. They received only sparse updates to their scan-com links given that the students had none of their peers lingering back to provide intel and so they relied on the general guidance offered by an intelligence officer tasked with numerous reports to make. Very briefly the thought made Naami miss Micah tol Powl but he soon shoved the thought away with gratitude that the kit was likely safe in a lab, far from the dangers of war.
The young man cleared his head, sinking back into the flow of conflict. Their mission was straightforward, all things considered and in comparison to the larger objective. He and Haro had been tasked with locating the control room inside or adjacent to the data center and shut down all automated defenses.
Even clad in the elite armor he'd been outfitted in, Haro could feel the oppressive pressure of the rain and wind baring down on him, impeding his visual and threatening to knock him off his feet. That was until the Empress' landing platform opened up, blooming like a flower, and a massive shield blanketed the initial stretch of the battlefield. The relief was instantaneous and it allowed Haro and his squad mates to move at a much quicker pace as they advanced deeper into the city toward the massive super structure that was their target.
Naamino took point, directing their movements and tearing through their droid opposition with brutal efficiency, and Haro followed close behind, covering his friend with shots from his new hand cannon. Haro didn't mind the Zabrak's inclination to take command in this case. In fact, he found himself appreciative of how effective he was at it. He was surprised to find that the troopers did not question the chain of command Naami had established either, but he supposed they were accustomed to being led by Sith, no matter how young. Haro even tested his authority as second in command and directed a couple of the troopers to fire on a turret he had spotted, and he was met with no hesitation and impressive results.
The destructive power he held in that moment, deadly Sith troopers at his command, the trigger of a lethal weapon at his fingertips, it was heady and overwhelming to the young man, almost sickening, yet it felt like nothing compared to the battle that raged on all around them.
Naami bisected the last of the battledroids in their path just as Haro blew another's head off before the two of them jogged up to press themselves to the side of a nearby building, their troopers close behind. Haro peered around the corner to investigate the next stretch of their pursuit. According to the holomap he'd memorized, the first layer of shields protecting the nearest entrance to the automated defense system control room was close but they had to cross an open courtyard to get to it. They were well outside the protection of the Landing Castle's shield at this point but the composite sensor display in his elite armor's helmet honed in on movement across the courtyard and automatically adjusted to infrared as it detected organic life forms. Haro would've been marveling at the suit's superior interface if it wasn't for the sudden panic that gripped him. Those were real people, not droids. He hesitated.
"Troopers ahead," Haro said pulling back from the edge to look over at Naami, grateful the helmet was shielding his face. "Maybe we should sneak around."
Part of him was certainly surprised by how quickly the opposition reached them here. As the air charged around them Ko felt it over his leathery skin. Forming goosebumps from anticipating the incoming lightning strike. The Kel Dor himself managed to avoid it, diving away from it and covering his head to lessen the noise of the thunder in his ears and prevent any ringing. The Sith had harnessed nature’s tempestuous power for their own perverse goals. Conjuring their lightning from the skies instead of from within themselves.
There was no time to really collect himself after though as he quickly scrambled out of the way from another committed attack heading straight for him. Only after narrowly avoiding both attacks was he able to feel the projected dread from one of the two Sith. Finally getting up onto his feet Ko instinctively backed up towards Colette. Relying on her to cover his flank, and in turn he would do the same.
The Kel Dor finally summoned his weapon to his clawed hands. Telekinetically pulling it into his grasp before igniting it's emerald blade to complement Colette’s personal blue hue. Seemed as though they were dealing a sorceress and warrior combo here. The two were commanding a great deal of attention and focus from Ko. His insight into the building they stood atop waned, giving way to more detail on their more immediate surroundings.
"That was quicker than expected. Something tells me these Sith may have overextended by rushing our position." Ko commented from behind Colette. He'll see if the Sith have bitten off more than they can chew, and if so they won't have anyone around to help them when they start to choke.
There was also the aura of fear from the sorceress that was whittling away at his focus. But given how much Ko had put into surveying his surroundings here he sensed something faint, like a passing shadow nearby. Was there another? Could they be outnumbered? It wasn’t clear enough for him to tell yet. But he’d keep the threat of another ambush in mind moving forwards.
“Understood. You too Colette” Ko simply replied.
The sorceress was an echani too according to Colette's observation. Certainly noteworthy to him given that his experience with echani as a Jedi has seen them far more focused on being up close and personal in their fights. Perhaps Colette’s target wasn’t as confident in their martial prowess? But there was no real time to brainstorm strategies at the moment.
His armored enemy had a reach advantage with her polearm. Ko would attempt to subvert that. Grabbing his smaller shoto lightsaber from his belt he activated it’s similarly green blade before forcefully chucking the smaller weapon at the armored woman. Quickly spinning through the air with a curved trajectory to strike at her from a less direct angle. In tandem with his saber throw Ko rushed them. Creating his own pincer maneuver and forcing his opponent to engage him from two separate angles of attack. Not even a second after the thrown shoto would make contact, Ko’s main blade strike at her as well.
Narrowly avoided the two pronged attack
Perception of the datacenter drastically decreased
The 305th Special Forces Unit, known as Omega Squad, gathered around him. Their armor was scuffed from previous engagements, a testament to the battles they had faced and survived. They were the best of the Galactic Alliance's elite, and he was their Jedi friend comrade.
Stay sharp, he murmured, his voice a low rumble. The squad nodded in unison, each member checking their blasters and gear one last time. They knew what lay ahead - a fight they couldn't afford to lose.
Without another word, Connel sprinted forward, lightsaber at the ready. The sand, debris and dust crunched beneath his boots as he led the charge against the attacking beasts. The entry fortress loomed before them, a monstrous silhouette that seemed to breathe malevolence into the night.
They didn’t know what in the world those monsters were, but Connel did. He could sense them. They were Sithspawn, it didn't matter from which. They were evil, mean, and nasty, and were NOT going down easily, but they were going down.Connel had faced Sithspawn before and knew their weaknesses. He rallied his team, devising a plan to exploit those vulnerabilities. With determination and strategic precision, they would overcome these formidable foes. Concentrated fire on each individual did not take down many that quickly, but it worked. It also gave Connel chances to use the Force against them.
The Shadow was using every weapon in his arsenal between this sabers, his combat shield and the Force, he was in no mood for any of this Nerf dung. Utilizing cover fire emboldened him as he cut down one of the larger attacking beasts. It was so strange to see and experience them, but he would not fail. He could not fail. There was too much at stake and it was starting to tick him off. They would not stop coming, and he would not stop driving them back, until the numbers began to eventually dissipate. This was not a victory, it just meant that these were little more than the "extras", the main horde was in another area.
Captain Ander, one of those affected and trying to get their friends out from under the crashed speeder, Connel saw this and would help if he could but was busy distracting, fighting and taking down these Neti Sithspawn. When a squad of Sith Order troopers made their way into the entry point, Connel threw his combat shield at them followed by his lightsaber, yet charged with the shortsaber. The fight was intense but the Sith troopers fought to the last man.
They still fell.
Then the booming sound of Ran Serys
jumping from above, armed, ready and moving out into the fight, Connel pointed.
Graclin is from Woostri. She would remember Graclin from Denon, he was the young boy who lead them to the ill-fated auction that they took down.squad followed, their boots pounding against the dusty ground. The air crackled with anticipation, the silence broken only by the hum of their weapons. Victory was within their grasp, but so was defeat. They had to stay sharp.
Then it hit him. A power, a feeling, an ember of hope. He could see the others in the team feeling it. Each of them questioning what this was, surprised that each other was getting this experience as well. Connel knew exactly what it was. Though he had never felt one before, he could feel the Battle Meditation, and though he did not know the source, yet, the Shadow had a feeling that it was the "painter" herself, Iris Arani
.
Then he got his idea.
Boss, I don’t want to step on your toes.
Step away, you’re good.
With a nod, he waved for them to pay attention and pointed to their “demo” man, “Azrael”. How many charges do you have? How many can you make?.
How big?
They’re advancing. I don’t want them to. Azrael smiled at this.
I can make a dozen with what I have.
What if we get you more supplies?
Get me supplies, I’ll sit here and make as many as you want. Alazar could see where this was going.
I will too. Tapping his comm-link. [This is Lt. Alazar to all Alliance Forces in the area. Omega Squad needs any and all explosives you can spare. Stand by for retrieval.]
Whatever you make, I’ll get out there and set.
I’ll help
I’ll cover you.
Whatcha say, Jer’? Give’em cover? Offering a dab.
The best cover.
Quickly, several officers were converging on them, bringing explosives. One of them, Sergeant Volker exclaiming “I hope you guys know what you’re doing.”
It must be the Battle Meditation, but Caltin could sense Shan Pavond
out in the field. He did not know what was going on out there, but Connel could ask.
~About to head out with explosives. If you have any intel, I’d appreciate places to put them.~ He wasn’t trying to tell the guy what to do, but if the Mirialan Knight had a better lay of the land at the moment, maybe he could give a good suggestion or two.
“Michael” and “Azrael” were busy at work putting together shaped charges as “Sariel” and “Jeremiel” were setting up in well defensible positions and a lay of the land. They had a target rich environment. “Raphael” was their cover with his heavy weapon. Anything that came close that was not “Jedi” or wore a GADF emblem anywhere on them would be cut down.
Michael, paused at the corner of a dilapidated building, his gaze sweeping over the shadows that clung to the structures like a shroud. The team members, each with their own set of skills honed to perfection, moved with a silent grace that belied their heavy armor. Their presence was a whisper in the wind, a promise of protection and a warning to any who dared to cross them.
Raphael, Jeremiel, and Sariel, three of the most skilled in the squad, took their positions at the entrance to the data center. Their blasters were at the ready, their eyes sharp and focused on the horizon. They had the unspoken bond of those who had faced the darkest nights together, each one an extension of the other's thoughts and instincts. They knew that their vigilance was the first line of defense against the impending Sith threat, and they were ready to give their all for the cause. Each of them knew their jobs.
Barachiel and Gabriel, the engineers of destruction, were with Connel running out of the facility. They worked tirelessly, setting explosive charges with the delicate touch of a sculptor crafting a masterpiece. The charges were designed to be unpredictable, to cause maximum havoc and confusion, a last resort against the inevitable Sith assault. Sweat beaded on their brows, but their hands never trembled. They knew that their work was the key to the survival of the data that could potentially turn the tide of the war. They had more charges to set, but the ones that were down right now, they would cripple most any advance (with luck).
The tension in the air grew thick as the Jedi and his allies prepared for the battle ahead. The sun, a fiery orb, was dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows across the city. The quiet of the day was about to be shattered by the thunder of conflict. Yet, amidst the chaos of preparation, Connel found a moment of peace. He knew the Force was with him, a constant companion in the looming battle. He took a deep breath, feeling its power surge through him, and nodded to his comrades. The time was coming.
Then he looked up at the Finance Building and the Government Facility on either side of the Data center. His mind began to race as he had three more charges with him to set before making his way back to the Data center for more.
Connel and two members of Omega Squad are setting explosive traps along the roadways and in various spots along the advance to the data center. More to come in next post.
After the Sith's recent attack on Eiattu 6, Efret had decided to open a satellite of Field Camp Nu on Woostri. Her hope had been to avoid a repetition of the impossible situation her team had been put in. From Ruusan's Vatsu Temple, the master had advised her team to stand their ground since transporting what artifacts they had collected and nullified off planet had been out of the question with a Sith space blockade looming in orbit. They had to wait until it was broken.
In the meantime, Sith forces had come upon them, but they had help their own and protected the cache. They were under orders that Efret had given with a very heavy heart—"Destroy the artifacts if you must, but only as a last resort. We cannot allow them to fall back into Sith hands"—and now they were again, this time all together.
Woostri had been far enough back from the front line to be a relatively safe staging ground for artifacts sent from Eiattu before they were sent to the new vaults on Fondor weeks ago. They hadn't had time to react to the fall of Alakatha and relocate again.
Unlike Nu proper, this location wasn't a tent compound. It was instead on the forth floor of a skyscraper in the downtown sector of Gopsthal. The Central Archive and Computation Building was just a few city blocks away.
Explosions both on the ground and in the air shook the building, as well as the near-gale-force winds, causing Efret to stumble in the stairwell. The weight of the pack on her back only pulled her more off balance.
Toric seized forward to catch and steady her. When she stood again, he moved to her side and guided her forward with a hand on the small of her back.
They had to get the gathered artifacts to the lobby. Pipma, Kili, and Sodus were already there.
Cora's stern expression dipped into a frown. It quickly smoothed out upon remembering that frowning begets wrinkles.
"Nearly?" She hummed in bitter amusement. "I suppose your kind found me more endearing when I was a lost, doe eyed girl."
Another familiar presence, this one more welcome, settled in her periphery. Connel and his team approaching - good. They must've heard her calmly delivered status report. The Sith interloper was her focus, but there was quite a bit of chaos around them.
Cora appraised A'Mia again with wary eyes. The Neti had grown not just physically, but in the Force, too. No small part of her was curious to see what she'd bloomed into in the years that separated Thule and Woostri.
"It's unfortunate that you felt the need to forgo your natural beauty in favor of…" Cora waved a hand vaguely towards the woman-tree, "perversion."
The creeping biomass had not escaped her notice. As the sithspawn surged forward with dizzying speed, Cora unleashed her lightsaber. The blue blade swept low, slicing the encroaching vines with a sharp hiss. It arced upwards as Cora spun, pivoting out of the wooden limb's range and lopping off the thick branch that had swung towards her.
"Your pets are ill-mannered. I cannot permit you inside."
The Jedi tsked. A hand extended towards A'Mia, and a sharp repulse of the Force fired from her like a wave, aiming to push back both the Neti and her spawn.
With that Ran jumped from her perch on the highest tier. In a freefall, she used the force to slow her descent, to strengthen her body, and soften her landing on the ground floor. A snap-hiss followed and the sapphire blue light of her saber shone off green skin and chemical yellow eyes.
Jhyrack set the butt of his warhammer on the ground. He leaned the head against his broad chest. It freed up his hands to give a brief applause for the acrobatics.
He didn't immediately respond to her challenge.
"Very good!" he called out. "Stepping out before your...people... to fight. Very good."
Jhyraxk hefted the hammer up. He turned to one of his warriors. He passed the hammer to them.
"Go. Find another fight. Her people will want to see this. Leave them for now."
He turned back towards Ran briefly, but then returned to looking at the maldrani warrior.
"Do not lose that hammer. It is a favourite."
"I am sorry!" he called out to Ran as he unclipped a lightsaber. "My common is not so good yet. I am learning. You must be a Jedi. Very bold. Brave. I will..."
Snap-hiss
His red blade cracked to life.
"Let you warm up first. Die a good death. We will sing a song about you!"
The huge maldrani settled back into a defensive posture and waved the mirialan on.
The boy said nothing to his Master’s comments about his rage, simply allowing the Sith Lord to pull him free of the wreckage and into the pelting rain around them. Veradun was quick to release the hand of Nefaron and jumped down to the wet ground with a muffled thud, quickly surveying his outside surroundings through the visor of his helm.
Around and above him was utter chaos, destruction, and death - the cacophony of war and violence filled his senses and brought a dark thrill to race along the Nagai’s skin. The city was being torn into as both Sith and Alliance forces began to dig into their battle lines, engagements cropping up everywhere around Veradun and his Master’s location. The boy could see that Nefaron’s forces were scattered, and they had already taken losses - but that was fine by him. They were drawing the attention of the Jedi and their filthy allies away from the Dark Lord and his Apprentice.
But that didn’t mean the two Sith would have it easy. This was war, afterall.
Veradun’s attention snapped to a Legionnaire who scurried over and knelt before Darth Nefaron before giving a report, one that the boy listened in on as well. Any scrap of information was important for him to hear as well, especially if he was going to properly aid his Master in his endeavors. He continued to listen in silence as his Master gave his orders and sent the Legionnaire away - and only a few moments later watched as said warrior was vaporized by a mortar shell that showered the area in debris and viscera. Other than being startled and frightened by the sudden blast, the boy felt nothing for the death of the Legionnaire, and it seemed that neither did Darth Nefaron.
The orders were taken up by the surviving Legionnaires, and Nefaron turned and ordered Veradun to his side, telling the boy that they would cross the river that separated them from their goal in a more covert manner. Quickly the two Sith moved, like blackened shadows that slipped through the downpour, gaining distance just in time as their prior location suddenly received Alliance artillery that destroyed the crashed ship and the surrounding areas, the force of the blasts buffeting against Veradun and Nefaron.
The location along the river side was going to be a dangerous place to tread, the boy realized, as more incoming fire began to pepper both sides of the river. Their progress was slow as they had to seek shelter in order to avoid becoming casualties, and Veradun stuck close to the side of his Master - both from fear of the chaotic hell that was being unleashed around him, and the instinctive desire to stay close to someone he knew in such a terrifying situation as Nefaron continued to push further down the river and towards a bend.
When they reached a suitable location, the Sith Lord brought them both to a stop and seemed to survey the other side of the river where their enemy had dug in and had fortified their positions. Most of the bridges, if not all of them, had been purposefully destroyed in order to slow the Sith advance, and Veradun wondered just how he and his Master were going to get across themselves, but he figured the Dark Lord had a solution for that problem and all the boy needed to do was stick close and obey every command that was issued to him. He was fine with that, as he wanted to live to see another day.
The boy glanced at Nefaron as the Dark Lord removed a canister from his belt and triggered a mechanism before passing it over to the boy.
"We must make a gap in their defenses. This will be a simple display of your power, use that anger to throw this to the other side of the river. Be quick about it, the moment you throw it they will know our position and open fire."
Veradun took the canister, loaded with some type of toxin no doubt, and let his eyes travel over the opposite bank as Nefaron turned to deliver orders to any other Corpse Legionnaires that were nearby, telling them have the surviving mortar teams deploy the “special” munitions he had provided to them. He could see movement on the other side where soldiers were awaiting any Sith who dared to step out into the open.
Nefaron then turned to the boy and indicated that now was the time for him to chuck the toxin grenade across the river and into the ranks of their enemy. The warning that he needed to be quick as they would fire upon their position the moment he threw it weighed upon his mind, and without a single word to his Master the boy turned away and slipped like a snake through the debris to a location slightly downriver, using whatever cover he could find to mask his movements. If him throwing the canister was going to draw enemy fire…then he would lure their fire away from his Master’s position. At least, he hoped his idea would work out that way.
The Nagai teen came to a stop behind some rubble, and peered through a small gap towards the opposite bank, sharp and careful eyes scanning to find the best place to throw the toxin. He settled on a location where he could see some movement, before he called upon the swirling power that was coiled within him and allowed the fear that had been squeezing his heart to power the energy behind his throw, utilizing the Force to aid him as he hauled back and threw the grenade as hard as he possibly could, watching only for a moment as it sailed through the air with Force-aided speed and strength before he turned and dashed back to his Master’s side.
“Canister deployed, Master!
He was very eager to see how effective Darth Nefaron’s toxins were against a larger force of their enemies. It was one thing to see such toxins work in a lab setting, and quite another to see them deployed in the field. Dark excitement flooded the boy’s veins as he looked on to see what would happen next.
Taam stalked down a wide corridor a dozen tiers up from the ground level of the Southern wing. Nir was at his side, a patrol of GADF soldiers behind him. The muted booms grew closer, indicating the Sith breaching the facility, or attempting to do so, in several locations. This was a flu fog post. It was incomplete and I wasn't aware I had accidentally posted it.
Setting up defenses, barring doors, waiting for the worst to come. They had been tasked with defending the north-eastern sector, and Nir still wasn't sure of his master. A massive Cathar who had hadn't had the chance yet to fight alongside.
Normally, Nir would be the type to walk into a battle unarmed. Not out of stupidity, but out of his own fighting style. Form 0, after all, was one of the first things he was taught in his classes, and his abilities melded well with the idea. Still, this was different. Much like Echnos, the boy had to plan ahead. So, he kept his saber on his belt, waiting for what came next
The shaking had stopped, the Sith had landed. What came next?
He wasn't sure.
But he held strong. Above them, the Cathar of Legend, Master Si, was fighting the storm. One day, he hoped to stand where she did. Maybe one day, he and his master both could.
"You think we'll win?"
It was an innocent question to his master, one he didn't expect to get a good answer to.
Jessikal was a bit disturbed seeing Shan use such a Force Power before. She had no experience in such things but at leas she was assured that this Force Familiar will help her search for civilians. The Senator would nod as she then jogged off, pressumably with the Force Shadow following close behind. The scene before some members of the 44th was a grizzly one. The bombings that happened had caused buildings to collapse onto unsuspecting civilians and some GADF forces. Already the Ariem medics were treating the wounded, escorting the critically injured back to the medical tents, and unfortunatley marking bodies as deceased. Jessikal sighed as she ran forward helping the others pull out civilians from the rubble. A Zabrak GADF soldier was pulled out, and Jessikal went to tending him.
"Hey! Try to stay awake, I am going to give you something for the pain." Jessikal said as she gently used an injector on the Zabrak's neck. A relieved expression washed over the Zabrak's face as Jessikal continued to tend to his wounds. She used Bacta spray on what wounds she can, and bandaged them up firmly. Jessikal marked this soldier as stabilized but needing more medical attention. She motioned for one of the medics to put him with the others that are being transported to the medical tents. Next patient was a Twi'lek markswoman. Luckily her injuries were light and with some quick treatmnts, Jessikal cleared for her to go back to the front. Shan's Force Shadow was able to help Jessikal find a child underneath the rubble. The child was alive but unconscious. Jessikal did what she can before gently placing him on a gurney to be taken back.
"Senator." one of the Ariem medics called out "Squads Charlie and Omega report that they are taking their casualities back to the medical tents. They consist mostly of wounded GADF personnel. I plan on taking my squad and also Bravo Squad to link up with them, taking our wounded too."
"Go. It should be safe enough for you all to get there quickly. Once you're done, resupply and come back out here. I am afraid the Sith will bomb the area once more." Jessikal replied
They saluted each other and went their separate ways. Jessikal continued to coordinate efforts here. It was hectic, it was dirty, it was chaotic. But there was always a warm feeling in Jessikal's chest everytime she managed to help one of the wounded out. She can hope that the same feeling was also felt like by the other Ariem with her. Once Jessikal finished patching up a Zeltron soldier, her communicator flared to life.
"This is Jessikal of the 44th." she would say
Loud blaster fire on the other end, which cause Jessikal to stand up quickly. Her face grew concerned as she then heard the vocie of the Ariem Sergeant she spoke with earlier.
"Senator! The Sith..they-" Loud blaster fire interrupted the vocie before continuing " ...They came behind our defensive lines. They are targetting the wounded! Senator we are outgunned! Sen-" There was a blaster shot and the sounds of blood gurgling at the mouth, the last remnants of air escaping a dying body. Then muffled voices as the blaster fire continued and the screams grew louder.
No..it was supposed to be safe. I...those women put their trust in me to get them home. Jessikal's eyes swelled with tears for a moment before she communicated to Shan. "Master..Jedi" Jessikal said through her tears and quivering tone. "Sith soldiers appeared in the backlines. They..are targetting my medical teams escorting the wounded. ...I dont know how many have died already but please. Save anyone you can."
The cacophony of war continued, but through it all Ran and the Darksider shared a moment. Through his thick but decipherable accent, Ran listened and noted his tone. To her, it seemed absent the haughtiness and imperiousness that plagued the Jedi enemy known as the Sith, yet still there was bravado in it.
Ran watched as his men listened to his instruction. The pack of armored and horned fighters pulled away from the Southern Wing in search of a different enemy. It was an interesting order by the Maldrani Lord, one that could've been mistaken as honorable, but Ran knew greed when she saw it. She knew the Sith in all their forms.
"A song about me?" She questioned rhetorically. "I'm sure they will." She said with a face that said she was over his antics, but still she responded with her own.
"There once was a Jedi named Ran
Who grabbed the bull by the horns and then rammed
Its head into the ground
And sure did it frown
As bisected, it was no lord, just a man."
Ran said in a sing-songy voice while her face rested in its usual intense form, still attempting to goad him into an attack.
"It seems I've beat you to the punch. No death required. Your people can still sing a song for you though."
She stood ready and defiant in the face of a larger foe, for she was the Blade of Selvaris, and the chief chronicler of Jedi History. What would the future be without her. She was sure no one would ever know.
"Sure thing. I've set up some bog traps up around these streets. If there's any troops stuck in them, they should be easy pickings with the explosives."
Urgh. It felt so wrong to Shan to refer to people as easy pickings. They had their own lives. Sure, they were misguided and fighting against the Alliance but they still had their own families. It still felt wrong to Shan to be fighting out here. It's why he was working with the 44th to try and save people instead. Using the Force to guide them to trapped casualties or moving rubble to free them up. It was hard work. Draining work. But Shan was going to help in what way he could. After all. He had promised to do his best to protect th-
"Master..Jedi" Jessikal said through her tears and quivering tone. "Sith soldiers appeared in the backlines. They..are targetting my medical teams escorting the wounded. ...I dont know how many have died already but please. Save anyone you can."
The Mirialan froze. What? He was meant to have covered the backlines. That's exactly what his traps had been for. To protect their rear in case people got past them. It had been all for nothing. His work. His planning. His promise. It was happening all over again. Shan had set out to do something and he was failing at it. People he was meant to have protected were dying now. Because of his incompetence. After Hapes, Shan had finally thought he could pick himself up and do a good job. He was wrong. So very wrong.
In a rush of wind, with the aid of Force Speed, Shan zoomed through the streets in a blur. Following the guidance of the Force to the rear, where he'd slash out at the first hostile armoured troop he could see. It wasn't a disarming blow he was going for. Nor was it a non-lethal takedown. The Mirialan had all intentions of striking a killing blow as he rushed past...Only for his lightsaber to slash harmlessly against the metal...Another pass with another attempted strike. Same deflection. A third attempt was one too many as the Mirialan was clotheslined, sent hurtling and spinning through the air before crashing into a building. Even with the all of the protection Shan had in his armour, the impact still hurt.
Nothing was broken. Nothing physical at least. He had to get back in there...but it was hard for him to will himself to move forward. He could smell the flames from the troops' gauntlets. The cries for help. The pain. Damn it. Damn it all. Shan always said he was going to be a wall. A wall that protected the innocent. The Mirialan took in a deep breath, before forcing himself to move. Forcing himself into the line of fire to protect what members of the 44th he could. Using his Soresu training to protect them. To keep the attention of the troopers on him, even as Shan over-extended himself. Taking an onslaught of shots to his armour as he kept pushing. There was only so much pain his crystal could numb for him...but he'd push beyond that.
" Connel Vanagor
I could use you at my position. Got a ton of hostiles. My lightsaber can't cut it. Literally. Doing what I can...to hold them off to let people evacuate...But they have flamethrowers...and it feels like they don't even need to reload."
Shan hissed down the line. It was getting harder and harder to hold back the onslaught of bolts. His lightsaber could only do so much, and the armour was already taking a beating. The heat was unbearable as well. It felt like he was getting cooked inside of the armour but he couldn't give up. It was taking all Shan had to keep his head safe. It also only took a moment for Shan to take his attention away, to focus on a fallen 44th and for one of the Death Brigades to send a mini concussion rocket at Shan.
The explosion ripped Shan off his feet. Rag dolling through the air as he turned through the sky before landing with a thud in a pile of rubble. He had...to keep protecting. Had to get up and protect. But it was hard to even keep his eyes open. His head was throbbing. Every small flicker of his eye sending jolts of pain through his head. He had to get up. But he couldn't. The Mirialan tried to push his body as much as he could. But there were points that the body won over the mind. This was one of those as Shan fell limp against the rubble and fell into the cold silent darkness.
Saved some people from fallen rubble
Rushed off to the aid of the 44th in the backline
Called in Connel Vanagor
for fire support
Ended up getting knocked out by an onslaught of blaster fire and concussion rocket.
Lysander, positioned at the rear of the group, closely observed Naami with a cold and calculating gaze as the boy steered them forward; no doubt, there was an unmistakable commanding presence about the young zabrak. But for the acolyte, this present moment merely served as an opportunity to properly harness his emotions and mentally prepare for the unknown that awaited him. In truth, he did not need to carry any fondness for the leader in order to follow his orders; the building resentment was plenty enough to drive him forward, sharpening his focus and igniting a fierce level of determination that he didn’t even know existed.
His hands lifted, readjusting the piece of elite armor, bestowed upon him a few days before their departure to Woostri from Revna
; its weight was not the issue, nor any of its features that were designed to simply boost his performance. From enhanced vision options to a communication system, this helmet was meant to provide Lysander with an edge, along with concealing his identity amongst what would more than likely be familiar presences from the Galactic Alliance. The problem was simple; it was his unfamiliarity with it. With limited time to train with it, he was struggling to find comfort. While it displayed important information, it was also somewhat of a distraction, affecting his focus.
Haro Aven
's willingness to follow without hesitation deepened Lysander’s desire to prove his own worth through sheer strength and skill. He didn’t need approval from anyone; he needed results.
Still following from the very back, he was denied any real action against the battle droids that were easily disposed of. Part of him believed it at least helped in conserving energy, yet he couldn’t shake the eagerness to get involved. The craving for battle, to test his mettle, was an itch that was consuming.
A sudden sense of unease washed over him next; the presence was unsettling, not yet visible, but undeniable, as it was felt through the Force. The edge of his consciousness tingled.
As the squad headed towards one of the buildings, he made a last second decision. He decided to break away, no longer desiring their protection. Masked by the unforgiving weather and chaos combined, it served as a shield to hopefully slip away unnoticed.
Taking cover behind different building in the opposite direction, it wouldn’t take long for him to locate the source of disturbance. While scanning the courtyard, the acolyte’s emerald orbs widened upon locking onto a familiar figure: his sister Coco, engaged in combat. His heart skipped as he looked over to recognize her foe: it was none other than one of his professors, Madrona A’Mia
.
A cruel pang of loyalty twisted in his stomach. He was torn between protecting his family and obeying those he now served.
Both of the boy’s hands came up to the sides of his helmet as his mind became a chaotic storm. Anger and frustration swirled together. The next time the acolyte opened his eyes, they didn't fall upon his professor, but rather the two Sithspawns that moved at speeds nearly impossible to follow.
A coursing hot stream of hate rippled through his veins. Without even trying, he glanced down at his dominant hand, which was already conjuring dark energy in the form of a Force Blast. The skill was new to him, and far from polished, but in that moment, it felt natural.
Gritting his teeth, Lysander focused and directed the attack towards one of the Sithspawns. The blast erupted from his palm, colliding with the creature's side a single heartbeat later. Though it did not have enough power to vanquish the target, he hoped it would at least slow it down, giving his beloved sibling more time to defend herself.
Despite the continuing internal battle, he wasn't about to give away his position so easily; he continued to move. His goal was still to infiltrate the data room and complete this mission for the Sith, no matter the cost. His faith in Corazona von Ascania
was absolute, and was positive that no matter what fate befell the others of the Light, she at least would stand tall at the end of this.
Indiscriminate blaster fire scythed through the lobby toppling artifacts and filling the ground floor with smoke. A man in a white cloak emerged from the dust, boots crunching over broken glass. His narrow strip of hair was greying although he kept a thin moustache precisely groomed. With one hand covered in strange jewels, he reached out and a fallen holocron floated into his palm.
"Late High Republic era," the man mused out loud before tossing it contemptuously aside, "A pedestrian work."
Without the Force to guide them, storming the beach and infiltrating Gopsthal had already cost Vector half his squad. In the chaos and confusion of a full scale Sith Legion assault on the city's heart he would have never stumbled across this place had it not been for the baroque looking device on his belt which could detect certain exotic phenomena.
"These illegal relics are now property of the Sith Reclamation Service!"
Narrowed eyes swept across the treasure hoard imperiously. His legionnaires remained outside, ready to resume blasting as soon as he gave the signal. Despite the violent nature of his entrance he did not seem to have drawn any weapons nor did he look threatened by any pointed in his direction. Monk used his umbrella like a cane once he wrung it dry.
In a refined accent thick with derision he demanded, "Who is in charge of this...rabble?"