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

[Srina Talon]

Ally Tag: Sith Order Taeli Raaf | Darth Empyrean | Quinn Varanin | Kasir Dorran | @Madrona A'Mia Zachariah Conway | Commodore Helix | Darth Strosius | Jhyrack | Kartus Lok | Alana Calloway | Tamsin Graves | Kaila Irons | Eira Dyn | Festerruman Sachiel | Haro Aven | Darth Nefaron | Veradun Sharr | Lysander von Ascania | Vector Monk | Kivah | Amara Zambrano
Enemy Tag: GA - Judah Lesan
Location: Now on the Beach - Outskirts of Gopsthal
Equipment: Robes | Saber | Ring | Ring
Ship: Landing Castle x | Cruiser [Requiem] x | Frigates [3] | Beacon
______________________________________________________

Her sweet children…

Unruly murder moppets though they may be, they were hers, and that was all that mattered. Her whispers and warnings would continue to Sith Order throughout the ritual. It carried ability, information, and details about varying operations that would give them their best chance of booth survival and success. Some would hear her, some would not. Some would listen, some would not. It was a constant state of flux that she had long since learned to accept from Sith. They didn't like to take medicine, or help, from anyone—Even if it was good for them.

The island trembled beneath their feet, shaking, with the weight of might unshackled. Darkness bled into the air and rolled around the Landing Castle in a thick mist, curling around her fingertips as she stood, regal, even in ruin. The wind caught silvered hair that had fallen from braids while fighting Judah Lesan . Blood—some hers, some not—slicked against her alabaster skin, starting to dry, leaving her feeling distinctly sticky. No matter the darkness she compelled, even frayed at the edges, she was still the woman most had come to know.

Uncompromising. Exquisite, in destruction.

Regardless of the power she curled around their position the Force Light from the ocean below was getting brighter and more intense. The pulsing glow below the waves gnawed at the edges of her mind like a festering wound. Eyes of corrupted gold flickered, narrowing as she felt it shift—alive, sentient. A force or resistance, of defiance, striving against the certainty of their dominion. The runes beneath the waves on the ocean floor stood out now, more than ever, scarring the deep with their radiance.

It scarred her children. Both above—and below.

She felt the presence of Jedi like an ember pressed against her palm. Annoyance, curled in her chest, a cold thing sharpened by war. She could see the runes, but they were too far away for her to do anything about. Her jaw was set tight by the time Taeli Raaf responded. She could see through the web Madrona A’Mia had sacrificed of herself to create. Darth Strosius was one of the first to suffer the fiery, burn of Light, while Zachariah Conway held a different kind of pain. It clawed up his leg with every step.

<<…Come to me…>>
​

She painted a path for the Sith that required it, using the shatterpoint map, and those same whispering tones that would hover around Sith like moths to a flame. If they could no longer fight effectively there was little sense in dying for what might have already been compromised. The Lady of Secrets released her hand and Srina turned toward the Landing Castle to order that a new wave of droids deploy. It would provide cover if the Alliance gave chase—Even if the stealth frigates on standby were swift.

Srina did not balk when Lady Raaf drew both Light and Dark into her hands, though, her head did turn to the side to avoid looking at it directly. While the Empress was powerful the Lady of Secrets had many more years of manipulating the unknown. Thus, the Echani watched. She learned. The scientist seemed to be reaching for balance but Srina knew better. There was no balance. Only control. When the singular word met her ears, Srina felt her heartbeat stop for a moment. There was a pause in the rain that fell, pulling it up, instead of down. The ocean seemed to pull back rather than rolling in—And for the first time on Woostri, the hurricane winds seemed to calm. It rippled outward, pulsing, as it had done before but this was new. It ripped open fragmented portals. Breaks.

Pathways to different realities. But most importantly? A way to escape, rather, a new way to fight.

Srina reached for Zachariah Conway and he would feel her brush directly against his weary thoughts. <<…You have fought well…>>, her voice curled around his pain, coaxing, prodding. <<Now comes the hardest part…You can be all that you desire. Simply, don't fight against the tide.>>

She left him with that, a pearl of wisdom, amid encouragement while his grandmother fortified him against his injuries. It was similar to how she had aided Quinn Varanin not long ago. His resolve to regroup and press toward Darth Strosius and Commodore Helix was intelligent. The environment had changed, thus, tactical decisions needed to change with it.

Kaila Irons was her next visit. The voice of the Empress would thread through her mind like a delicate weave of silk and durasteel. The Valkyrie had heard her before, on Echnos, and now that same dark melody would caress her thoughts. She might have interfered…But she could see that Darth Anathemous was not so easily undone. The Force Light had affected them all…But she would push through. Perhaps, if not for herself, for Quinn. <<…I see you…Show the enemy your might…Show them and never let them forget…>>

<<Bring my daughter home.>>

Kasir Dorran was never one to give up, it seemed. That strength was something that couldn't be borrowed. It was innate. Her whispers would float down around his ears…

<<You endure where others have broken…You refuse to fall. The enemy enjoys light…Give it to them.>>

Electricity was far different than Force Light but it would decorate the dark evening all the same. The only difference was that her preference involved the screaming of the enemy that sought to thwart their purpose. There was a moment of recognition for all she spoke to. For all who spoke back. A fleeting taste of something unavoidable, inevitable, but just slightly out of reach.

They needed to push through.

And Judah—Her prisoner even among the pocket worlds Lady Raaf had brought to bear—Was drowning.

Her unforgiving gaze flickered toward the Jedi Master who was still trapped. Ensnared not only physically by debris and rebar but mentally burning from his own regrets. She could see his nightmare. He stood upon the shore of his sins, caught between the past and the present, the blood he had spilled in the name of the Light stretching before him in an endless tide. And yet—Something had changed.

It took her a moment to see it.

But as she did? Her expressionless features hardened with recognition before her eyes grew distant. Light. Love. It had no place here. A slow exhale escaped her lips as she reasserted her hold on Judah Lesan in a way that would bring him nothing but pain. Her voice curled through the shattered landscape of his mind like mist creeping through a graveyard. It swallowed, his Katara. His Light.

"She is gone, Jedi. Dead. She cannot help you now."

A pause, though, it was only because he would not wake up from this nightmare. Not of his own volition.

"Do you not wonder why the dead call to you? Why they haunt your every step? Because they are waiting for you, Judah Lesan. Waiting for you to join them. But I—", she trailed off, words ringing in his mind, even while Woostri in the physical realm was suffering a variety of reality-bending instances. He would have been horrified to wake up, just as much, as he was horrified to sleep. "—I am not finished with you. You will die when I say, not a moment before."

The cracks in his mind would widen. She would fill them. The Jedi sought to contain the chaos, to wield the Light as if it were a shield. But the light did not protect him here. It did not cleanse. It did not purify. It only burned while she continued to draw out his pain…And replace it with darkness. He was a prisoner. Her prisoner—And that was a fate worse than death.

He resisted and her voice would touch things it shouldn't. Bring his fear, bring his pain, and amplify it tenfold. Twist it cruelly until he cried out.

"I warned you to stay out of my way... You chose to disobey."

Every sentence would feel like a hot poker to his sternum. Full of grace…Full of finality.

"Now…Now you are ONLY mine to break."

 

[Jhyrack]

TECHNOLOGIC

ENEMIES: Ran Serys

“You must really fear me. I am like no enemy you’ve ever faced.” She smiled a teasing smile, a false one, in the face of a duel to the death, as this was.

“I am the last enemy you’ll ever face.” She corrected and closed her eyes, in this steam, in this storm, they would only deceive her. “Come on. Come on.” She whispered. “Reveal yourself to me.” She continued, the anxiety of the moment overcoming her focus for only a split second.

The turret fire continued. It vaporised the water that had welled up in the wake of the storm. Each flash of green cast shadows through the mist.

"Fear? Hah!" his voice was thrown off the walls. "I am finally enjoying myself."

Jhyrack grinned. His chest heaved slowly as he drew in the air: a mix of air and scorching steam. Cracks often opened in the surface of his home planet Mylthal. Belching steam and sulfur and poison, no weakness survived on that world.

Across the ritual, across the city, traveling along the lines of Light and Darkness, along the threads of ethereal and material... cracks would form. And from those cracks, endless potential would form around people.

As the sorcery expanded around them, as they became just another pair of spiders dancing on the web, he moved.

<<…Come to me…>>

Impressed by the breadth of their magic and the sith ways he still had to learn, Jhyrack still had a singular focus. The battle. The opponent that was actually worth fighting.

He exploded out of the steam. Gangs gleaned, whips of streaked through his bright hair and dull armor. He roared his challenge as one hug clawed hand reached for her.

His saber remained at his belt, Jhyrack wanted to drag her down into a rock fight when she wanted to dance beyond his reach.

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Woostri, heading to the data rooftop.
Outfit: Assassin Gear
Equipment: Mask, Vibro-daggers, vibro-sword, blaster pistol
Allies: Quinn Varanin | Kaila Irons
Enemies: Colette | Ko Vuto

Slam.

Crack.

"Arrrrrhhhh!"

The normally stealthy, reserved acolyte was here, using the strength gifted her by both her Master and by Srina Talon to pummel the roof till she had them free falling into the building. Her rage turning her vision red as she used the last of her energy in the Force to slam into building. Bursts of lightning crackling the air around her as she continued to slam until the roof gave way. Eira was using her powers to be a brute that she would usually sneer at but this was for a reason, for a cause.

To keep Quinn safe from the potential harm.

She would demean herself it ensured the protection of those she cared about. Though Eira watched Quinn's next moves and it seemed that the Sith Lord had been holding back on Eira. <<In future, that is the Quinn I want training me. Can't believe you dare to hold back on me, I can't be your First Apprentice if you train me to be weak.>> Eira's mental voice was soft, playful but there was also a seriousness there. She did wish to be trained harder, to learn the things that Quinn was doing right now.

Everything Quinn was doing in this battle were powers that Eira wished to hold herself someday. She would take any punishing challenge head on and succeed to demonstrate her commitment. This was just power that Eira craved in a way that no one else in the Order had displayed.

Double hammer fist slammed the roof, it finally broke a hole completely and Eira felt ground she was kneeling at give way. Freefalling into the open space of the room underneath the roof. Eira only could hope that her actions would be helpful for Quinn and Kaila, allowing them to be protected and ensure the Jedi threat was dealt with. As she fell, the rubble smashed against her body hard, Eira knew she would be battered and bruised all over from this. Already bleeding from her cut hand, stabbed shoulder and now from her knuckles.

She then hit the ground hard and felt the wind knocked out of her as she groaned deeply. She needed to use this pain. She needed to keep fighting. The fight wasn't over yet. The war had not finished. Eira could still demonstrate the dangerous warrior she planned to be. She just needed to stand. Demonstrate she had energy still yet to fight.

Be the demon.

The pained groan Eira made as she shifted from her position. Her body wanted to just be in a slumber. However, she pushed through that pain, trying to use it to continue to fuel her Dark Side powers.

<<I'm fine... I'm up...>> Eira messaged Quinn weakly. Demonstrating how much she had pushed herself beyond her limits already. Unable to hide her pain anymore.

"Anathema!" Eira roared, trying to find Kaila. It was strange to actually use Kaila's Darth name but this was the only situation that Eira knew she would. Stepping forward, "I'm okay... I just need to find Anathema... then kill that Kel-Dor... yeah... I can do this." Eira muttered to herself as her body ached with every step.

Then Kaila shifted the rubble herself and had freed herself. "Perfect..." Eira was pleased. "Kill...the Kel-Dor now..." She plotted out loud.

Turning to see where Ko could be, she felt her body crumble. The blood loss, the head injury from the rubble, the pain. It was all too much for Eira's young body. It collapsed and Eira saw darkness. Passing out, the acolyte had literally done all she could do.

 

[Colette]

Ko Vuto
Quinn Varanin / Kaila Irons / Eira Dyn

The onslaught was total. Colette bathed in the serenity of the light to act as its beacon and to lash back at someone so integral to the pain it was experiencing. It peeled back the veil, took back the gifts offered at birth, rescinded to the sound of two lovers confused at the real distance between them.

It didn't really come as any surprise that if the nexu growled once you touched its cub it would do something far worse if you grabbed said cub by the scruff on its neck and shook it. Colette had been ready for retribution, but to think the otherwise seemingly physically averse Echani would outright jump her was another.

The weight of a whole person barrelled down on her and the light finally let up. Soft hands wrapped around Colette's neck and pressed down with surprising strength. It didn't help that part of her breath was knocked out of her from the pounce, a good portion left disappeared with the thud as they both hit the floor.

There was no denying the nexu's wrath as Colette looked into the Echani woman's eyes. The attack on her lover had made her more feral than before. The Jedi gasped for air as the Sith began to press even harder against her windpipe, a lightheadedness began to blur her vision.

Golden tendrils tore at the periphery of her sight, her body, and her whole being - they all begged her to surrender and give up, to quit and let it happen. In one moment there was a part of her that was just about ready to succumb, but in the very next she regained the final slivers of her senses. Her hands gripped at the pale woman's wrists but the grip around the Jedi's throat was absolute. She tried to push her off but her strength just wouldn't carry. Precious seconds were running out. Colette could feel the infinite darkness of the void tug at her heart, and in a moment of desperation she dug as deep as she truly could in the force.

This was it, the last ditch effort - her saving grace in the face of imminent death. A scorching hot flame embedded itself within the palms of her hands. The smell of burning fabric and leather was immediate. A small gasp for air filled Colette's lungs and then another before she finally, despite the adversity, managed to throw the Echani woman off of her. Colette rolled to her side, away from the echani with a loud, wet gasp that hissed and scratched in her throat. Cough after cough, gasp after gasp, Colette remained immobile on her side.

Something tickled at the edge of her consciousness, and through the stillness of her vacant stare she couldn't help but lie down. It was said that the best moments of your life flashed before you as you died but this wasn't anything like that. A vision of home, of 'what could have been' clouded her desire to get up again. The raindrops pelted her hair and skin as for some reason unknown to her, she happily began to ponder the realities of what life with her real parents could have been like. Warm, happy? A more real experience? A mistake? A lie?

The dream came to a rather abrupt conclusion. Despite all the imperfections of her current life, she was already exactly where she wanted to be, and more than that; exactly where she needed to be.

Her eyes closed and then opened again before she rolled over on her stomach. It took every ounce of strength she still had in her, but with the help of her leg and a nearby wall she got herself back on her feet. Her wounds had gotten bad. There was no telling what effects the concussion she had would have, and the blood…

Well, she tried not to focus on that particular part.

Wait… Ko! Panic gripped at the girl's muscles and she approached the hole to make sure he was safe, that this wasn't over yet. She pulled her saber to her hand and ignited it, but there was very clearly no real fight left in her.

"Ko, come on!" She called out. "We have to—" The dizziness got worse. "We have to leave."

"Let them have the damn data, we need to—"

"WE NEED TO GO!"

 

[Commodore Helix]

Objective: Escape under the water.
Equipment: Same as prior posts.
Tags: Darth Strosius , Anthony Gray Sun (directly)
Westenra Mina , Zachariah Conway (Indirectly)

​

Helix's right arm formed into a long, thin blade, and he took a step forward toward the Jedi. Then the water came rushing in, and all hell broke loose. He watched in a sort of stunned fascination as Darth Strosius went ballistic, literally tunnelling his way out of the building to escape the stuff.

Helix examined the water curiously, even as it rapidly filled the room. It certainly didn't seem especially harmful to him. Simple seawater. Strange. He chalked it up to some arcane weakness of Alisteri's that he wasn't privy to. What was more concerning was what he was feeling.

His metal nerves, which by now wrapped around and infested the datacenter like vines, registered that their host had died. The water (and Alisteri's flailing) had utterly ruined what data he hadn't already been able to take. He had detected, in the brief instants before the flood, that the unknown slicer had been doing much the same on the digital front.

Disappointed, the nanites left their positions, converging swiftly back to the main colony. He looked back at the Jedi. There was little point in fighting him, with no data to fight over. The water closed over Helix's head, and he reorganized himself. A great, thrashing eel-like thing he was now, slipping easily through the falling metal debris until he came to the door to the room. Again he dispersed, this time into a simple cloud of fine grains, and seeped through the barricade.

A disappointing, but acceptable outcome. The Emperor would just have to be content with the partial scan he'd acquired. Inwardly, he began copying and re-copying what he'd taken, compressing and tucking away copies here and there inside his consciousness. No sense in not making a little loose change on the side.

He responded to Zachariah Conway carefully. "There's been a complication. The data center has been destroyed, by the Alliance's own hand. What I was able to seize prior, is all we will be getting. I am escaping, and will do my best to rendezvous with you as soon as possible. Alisteri's whereabouts are unknown. I am... not entirely sure why. He didn't seem to like the water."

 

[Ko Vuto]

​

Location: Woostri
Objective: Defend Datacenter
Tags: Quinn Varanin | Kaila Irons | Eira Dyn | Colette

Ko’s body laid atop a pile of rubble from the collapsed roof. Tired pushed and pulled through his mask as rain continued to fall in from the hole above him. Dotting his body like little wet pecks. He could tell that more was going on without him. Colette still fought against them.

The Kel Dor’s world had shrunk so much since the Sith came. Now he was blind to the happenings elsewhere with the datacenter. How much had been compromised even by the hands of his own allies. Unaware of the scorched earth strategy that was at play right now. Something that Ko himself wouldn’t really be opposed to, even now. Although it would leave him with some regret moving forwards. But hindsight can easily have that effect on people.

He sensed the Sith apprentice’s approach. Hearing their desire to end his life now. Sensing their approach Ko slowly raised his clawed digits to her. She too was in a vulnerable state just as he was. His body was losing blood, fast, but he felt that he could still finish her. Especially if she didn’t have her guard up now. To use up the last of his power for an explosive end to both of their lives. An ability that Ko had a knack for, although not one that he wasn’t necessarily proud of. Many of his friends had talent and skill for healing with the force. Attributes Ko envied. Instead some of his own affinities seemed better suited for the people he was fighting against today.

But as fate would have it, just as Ko was gathering what remained of his energy to kill the apprentice in retaliation. She collapsed instead. It seemed as though there was a hidden race to see who’s body would give out first. This meant that he could use his remaining energy on himself, instead of wasting it on a crippled sith apprentice.

Then he heard Colette’s voice calling out to him. To leave with her. Hearing those words Ko clenched his fists tightly in frustration. He didn’t want to give the sith free reign of the wealth of knowledge here. If that meant him giving away his life to do then he should. But he could be wrong. Perhaps he was thinking too much like a general and not enough like a Jedi. Perhaps from where Colette was she could see things more clearly than him at this point, and he should trust her judgment. Unbeknownst to Ko, their mission here was over. If the sith managed to be victorious here today. It may only be a pyrrhic victory. Achieving only a fraction of what they set out to do.

Propping himself up onto his elbows and pushing his toros up Ko grabbed at his utility belt and pulled from it some emergency medicine. A syringe of high quality bacta. With a deep breath he jammed the needle into his own neck and liberally injected the miracle medicine into his bloodstream. It was only a temporary solution, and his wounds were still life threatening.

Forcing himself up onto his feet finally he used what strength he could both in his body and The Force to jump up from the hole he fell through and back up onto the roof with Colette. Once he made contact up there his legs gave out on him and he fell back down to his knees briefly. “Let… Lets get out of here, Colette…” He said with a weary voice. ​

 

[Darth Nefaron]

DIRECT TAGS: Veradun Sharr
INDIRECT TAGS: Darth Strosius Commodore Helix Kasir Dorran

It's not possible.
​

Nefaron was no fool. Every being was unique in the force, and their signature was nearly impossible to forget, especially the one who wielded such Dark Power. Yet as the pair of Sith pushed deeper into the Data Center, malfunctioning security doors and chunks of rubble slowing their descent, the Corpse Lord grew ever more certain that Darth Strosius lived, or at least some part of him did. Nothing angered the Dark Lord more than a deception such as this for it invited so many theories into his mind. Had his spirit lived on and clung to a new body? Had Malum created some monstrosity that carried on in Darth Strosius's place? His wrath grew ever greater as they neared the heart of the Data Center, two beings clashing for the fate of a doomed world. One was a Jedi, the stink of the light surrounded him. The other was the very being that had stirred Darth Nefaron into such a frenzy.

Disregarding his Apprentice, Nefaron was just about to raise his withered hands to engage the false Sith and the Jedi he battled when an unexpected turn in the battle ruined any chance the Corpse Lord had at unleashing his power. The water flowed in, but this was no simple act of nature. The insidious Jedi had done something to the water, it was now a poison to all those who embraced the darkness in their heart. For all his power, Nefaron still felt the sting of the vile liquid as it rushed below him, the noise produced akin to that of a lightsaber against raw flesh. With a growl of pain, his hands extended in an attempt to hold back the tide and provide him space to push forward.

But his prey was gone. It was too much to hope that he had perished in the initial rush of water, for Nefaron still felt the faint sensation of his force signature. For a time, Nefaron considered hunting it down to eliminate the creature, but his Apprentice provided wise counsel.

"...Master, we need to go, now."
​

Nefarons angry gaze turned to the boy, all that armor would not have protected him from the Corpse Lord's wrath, for the boy sought to command him. Yet reason, or what passed for reason in Nefarons mind, won out. For a moment he turned to look back at where the being he hunted had been standing moments before.

In the end, the Sith Lord said nothing. He unleashed a wave of force to push the tide back for a few brief moments while the pair made their escape. The same speed that had carried them to the facility now saw them running for their lives as the water followed close behind. Reaching for his belt, Nefaron drew a small communicator and activated it, a short chime was followed by a ragged voice on the other end.

"Yes, My Master?"

"Have the guns fallen silent?"

"Yes Master, there is still heavy fighting but we are gaining control of the skies."

"Bring a shuttle as close to the Data Center as you can. Do not land, open the loading bay door and prepare for my arrival."

"Yes, Master!"

Nefaron did not bother to hide his obvious frustration and anger, but he did nothing with it. The facility was collapsing, and it took all of his concentration to ensure he escaped the rushing tide as well as tossing aside any falling debris. The pair of Sith managed to make it back to the very same entrance that had granted them access to the facility, though now several GADF troopers had taken up positions outside. They found themselves distracted by an approaching ship, blind to the two Sith who rushed out of the entrance. Only now did the Dark Lord unleash his wrath, lightning leaped from his fingers and all but incinerated several troopers where they stood. Woostri was a dying world, and the Sith would be well rid of it soon enough. The shuttle Nefaron had called in was under fire when it arrived, but the pilot did as commanded and opened the landing bay door as he hovered in place.

Without another word, Nefaron threw his full power behind pushing his Apprentice, sending him through the air toward the shuttle's open entrance for he had no time to test his mastery of the force.

He did throw him a bit too hard though, perhaps a remnant of his lingering wrath. ​

Nefaron followed closely behind, the moment he was aboard he looked to the pilot and issued orders.

"Take us back to Anoat. Leave our remaining forces on the surface." ​

 

[Zachariah Conway]

Location: Woostri
Tags: Drystan Creed
Equipment: Lightsaber | Sith Armour | Helmet
​

​

One final showdown between good and evil on Woostri.

Lightning crackled through the Jedi Knight, his weapon overtaken by it. The second weapon utilised by Drystan Creed had a purple blade, but quickly that purple blade turned to gold, getting a raised eyebrow from the young Sith Knight.

"You talk too much" he spat, the Force within him fuelled by annoyance and hate. He was annoyed at Drystan, hated Woostri. He could tap into all of it, match the power of the Jedi whom he would need to clash with one final time.

<<…You have fought well…Now comes the hardest part…You can be all that you desire. Simply, don't fight against the tide.>>

His power was aided one last time, his Grandmother fortifying him against the injuries he'd suffered fighting on the beaches and in the cities. Drystan Creed would feel it too, the Sith Knight who was so close to falling from exhaustion suddenly ready to fight once again.

"There's been a complication. The data center has been destroyed, by the Alliance's own hand. What I was able to seize prior, is all we will be getting. I am escaping, and will do my best to rendezvous with you as soon as possible. Alisteri's whereabouts are unknown. I am... not entirely sure why. He didn't seem to like the water."

The voice filled his helm and he let out an annoyed scream, fuelled by the Force. They had failed, however the Jedi had caused the destruction of their own data centre. Darth Strosius was missing in action just to top it all off. He genuinely despised Woostri.

"This"

He charged his opponent, flooding the Force through his body. His lightsaber was raised. He was looking to overpower and kill.

"Ends"

He brought the blade down in an overhand strike, seeking to end Drystan Creed as quickly as possible.

"Now"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Allies | Ran Serys | Taam Moghul | Nir Si | Lycus Merita | Connel Vanagor | Anthony Gray Sun | Ko Vuto | Colette | Drystan Creed | Taam Moghul | Nir Si
Engaging the lovely | Madrona A’Mia
Un-Allies | Darth Strosius | Commodore Helix | Quinn Varanin | Kaila Irons | Eira Dyn | Darth Nefaron | Veradun Sharr | Zachariah Conway | Lysander von Ascania | Jhyrack

(Tagging multiple folks who may be in/nearby the data center, apologies if I missed anyone!)
​

The scent of wood smoke was familiar to Cora. But this – this acrid, harsh, foul smell of singed bark had her recoiling. There was something obscene about it; about the way A'Mia's flesh cracked and split, filled with light and heat and pain.

The Jedi stumbled back, regathering herself on unsteady feet as the building swayed. Even if her gamble had worked, had it helped? There were more Sith making use of the Empress' Dark favor, more Sith seeking to rip the ground apart even as the Light pushed back. Had enough damage already been done? Her hand found her saber before her mind could even try and file through the possibility.

Phrik clashed against plasma in a shower of sparks, and the two women found themselves in a cinematic deadlock. Muscles wired with both adrenaline and exhaustion were pushed to their limits as the pair stared at one another, grim faces bathed in sweat and blue saber light, neither willing to give ground.

Suddenly, with a booming crack, the building lurched to the side. The jostling movements disengaged their weapons, and now they were both scrambling for purchase atop an increasingly unstable structure. Another deafening bang, then another, and the duracrete split beneath their feet.

Then, weightlessness.

Fractures scored their way up the building's face, breaking the upper floors into jagged pieces as Cora and A'Mia were thrown from the roof. For a moment, the structure listed to the side, slowly teetering.

Cora choked on her own gasp. Oddly enough, the wind screaming in her face felt almost refreshing. Whatever relief she derived from that was momentary, as chunk of duracrete entered her focus from above. It was bisected in an instant by her saber, split into two halves that flew to either side of her. The Jedi's head tilted back, their unintended destination framed in messy blonde strands.

Blue eyes flared wide in alarm. Cora clawed at the air, wrapping herself in a hasty cocoon of Force energy, and prayed.

No no no no no, Ashla no-!

With a thunderous crash, the building collapsed into the north face of the data center.

Spoiler: TL;DR

Cora and A'Mia have a brief, dramatic saberlock at the top of the building then oh no! It starts to break apart.
The two are thrown from the building, which crashes into the north face of the data center.

​

 

[Katherine Holt]

Location: Woostri, Gopsthal City
Objective: Overwatch & Help Hold Back the Sith Forces
Gear: Lightsaber (Physical Crossguard)/Lightsaber Pike | Armour
Allies: Lupa Visz | Jessikal Skea | Gress D'ran | Shan | Everest Vale | Tigris (GADF/NJO)
Enemies: Tamsin Graves | Alana Calloway (Sith Order)

By some sheer dumb luck, when Katherine had fallen into the building the floor beneath her had crumbled from the impact. It sent the Valkyrie downwards, just as the last Verpine round flew through the window and blew up. The result caved in the roof above her, but had ultimately sent the Jedi Knight down another floor, or two, she wasn’t quite sure.

At least it’s put some physical barriers between me and that…demon.

Though something told Katherine, that it wouldn’t be long before it was blasting its way down towards her.

Slowly and steadily, Katherine pulled herself up onto her feet. Wincing in pain as she instinctively used her right arm to do so. Her shoulder was burning with pain, aching from the impact of the armour’s destruction around it.

“Grit your teeth Katherine, we can’t be wasting any time.” The Valkyrie tuned her commlink, sending a message to Valery Noble . “Knight Holt to Grandmaster. I’ve sent Padawans Vale and Tigris to evac. What are the current overall orders? ‘Cause something tells me the Sith aren’t going to leave this place unscathed.”

Not that Gopsthal City was anything more than a ruin now. But then, the Sith had proven they could still completely obliterate the area if they wanted.

Katherine could feel the tides of the Force crashing against each other, Light versus Darkness. It ebbed and flowed with the numerous Jedi and Sith that were spread out across the city.

"And I see you, young Arana."

The Valkyrie froze on the spot, recognizing the voice. How the hell did she? But Katherine shook her head, refusing to let her focus be shaken by the sudden mental intrusion. I am NOT an Arana!

She had no idea if the thought would be picked up, but Katherine had other problems to worry about. As barely seconds later her ears began to ring painfully, head throbbing to a point she collapsed to one knee. It felt like her mind was burning, her vision growing hazy until all of a sudden it cleared.

Crack!

Katherine turned around to see what appeared to be a crack form in the air, within reality itself. Something on the other side of it was punching it, causing more and more cracks to form around it. Until a single armoured hand pierced through the veil, then the second, before both began to pry the crack open.

The redhead felt her entire body grow cold, as the culprit began to push itself through the opening. Adorned in black armour, skin pale as snow, eyes a soulless darkness, and the hint of blood-stained white wings…

A Kraujas Arana.

Unable to discern reality from illusion, Katherine began to panic. She stumbled backwards, backpedalling until she suddenly felt her body get forcefully tugged by the navel. Everything was a blur of motion as Katherine slipped through a different crack in reality.

Katherine suddenly found herself midair, and quickly fanned her wings out to stop herself from falling. She spun around, panicking looking for any sign of the Sithspawn. What the hell!? Where is it? Where…where am I?

Heartbeat erratic, it took several moments before the redhead to realize she had somehow appeared outside the ice dome that Tamsin had formed. For a moment Katherine was tempted to resume their fight but…

“Until next time.”

Katherine spun around in the air, and began to fly away. As she did, she tuned her commlink again, only this time to the wider GADF/NJO channel.

“This is Knight Holt, I am airbourne and heading towards evac, if there is anyone in need of assistance...”

 

[Ysennia Lee]

Lt. Col. Ysennia Lee | 42nd Assault Battalion
Allies: Lupa Visz Gress D'ran Jessikal Skea
Enemies: Festerruman Sachiel

​

Howler company was on the move. The ziio gunships could make it to the rest of the fighting with only a few minutes and the men inside were already itching for combat after being out of the fighting for most of the battle. Captain Lizza Farresh was in her ship as she was giving a quick briefing before the infantry would touch down on the ground.

"Sith drop pods have touched down behind the front lines, most of our men have been surrounded so it's our jobs to clear out the hostiles behind enemy lines so that the main force can encircle the bulk of the Sith army without being impeded. We'll be the ones to tip the balance of the fighting in our favor. So no heroics. Gunships are going to drop walkers to clear our LZ before we push in."

After finishing her transmission, she looked over to her second in command, 1st Lt. Jerrec Visto. A good kid who just got out of the academy. She couldn't see his teeth chattering through his helmet but his legs were shaking. Farresh just gave him a little pat on the back. "Deep breaths." She said to him softly.

There was a silence among all the troops in the gunships. They all the nerves and the itch that they finally got to scratch. Some were finally ready to take it to the enemy, while a few others had nerves similar to the lieutenant. A sense that something would go wrong. But this was war. Nothing really right about it. Despite all their knowledge and experience, this was their first real battle and it was an important role.

Some tried to pay attention to the humming of the gunships to distract themselves from the mulch they were going to drop into the mulch. They separated into three groups. Howler Alpha led by the captain, followed by Beta and Charlie. Each task force was assigned a specific target zone to clear in order to eliminate the Sith presence.

"We're approaching the LZ. Preparing cargo bay."

It was no use strafing. There were friendlies caught in the middle of fighting in the streets, so the walkers were the best way to get some anti-infantry fire while ID-ing friendlies. The GART operators took their positions, mounting the walkers. Hearts beating and blood pumping. Suddenly the light in the back turned green, that was their go. It was on the pilot to tell them when to go however. The cargo doors opened, the ramp lowering as the troopers prepared to jump. The wind blowing hard, indicating that their time to act was coming. The walker drivers gripping onto to the handles.

"Mark!" The pilot said, his voice boomed as the walkers activated and jumped onto the street, immediately they were thrown into the fray of street fighting as they rushed in to assist their allies who were caught on the defensive. But now Howler company was here. The GARTs ran down the street to tackle where the Sith were mostly concentrated. They shouldn't have to fear an open cockpit because the walkers would cover each other and swarm the enemy so the infantry could get a fix. No casualties so far, seemed the Sith didn't expect the Alliance to respond so quickly. The gunships soon followed. The streets were too tight for a landing, so the infantry had to repel from the gunships. Howler Alpha had 3 gunships and were put in with heavy enemy presence and before they knew it, they came to a stop.

"Preparing for descent!"

The ships opened their side doors and started to rappel from the gunship, two on each side. Squad leaders barked as the troopers began their descent. 4 by 4, troops had made their way down and began to join the fray as they created a formation to rally the surviving Alliance troops around. Captain Farresh was the last to depart from her gunship and found her squads had created a firing lane creating distance between them and the Sith. They were caught in the middle of the fighting, but the walkers were able to clear the way. All they had to do was keep pushing.

The gunships completed their task and were to head back. Chief Warrant Officer Bala Ugro, a togrutan gunship pilot, an old soul, a cheery guy, was the most senior pilot of the gunship contingent. He was told he would be given a big role in the battle, but was disappointed his moment hadn't come. But as the communicator in the cockpit went off, he was hopeful.

"This is Pheonix. Send traffic."

"Pheonix this is Stormpiercer. Phase 3 is go. How copy?"

A smile crept onto the chief's face. "Solid Copy, Stormpiercer. Beginning Phase 3." He then switched to broadcast to the rest of the gunships. "We got our clearance, boys and girls. Let's go into attack formation."

Sounds of celebration could be heard on the comms as the pilots were ready for their moment.

The gunships split into 2 groups of four, forming a square-like pattern the sky. They zoomed across the sky until the main battle was in sight. The 34th were in their tactical retreat and the Sith below had no idea what was in store for them. Chief Ugro had waited for this moment as he flipped on the gunship's loudspeakers


"You serious, old man?" Joked one of the pilots.

"Let him have it, chief needs to let everyone know he's in the zone."

Ugro didn't say anything, but he wanted to make sure everyone knew he was making his appearance. He flew over the Sith and then over the river where the blasted bridges laid. The howling of the Alliance's gunships was something the Sith were bracing for. The main assault force at least. Not the command post however.

"Fire on my command." He said as he picked his targets. Those damn howitzers were going to be the first to go. Once he got their signature, he fired his missiles and the rest of the gunships got their cue to unload on the Sith command post. The rest of the gunships fired on the enemy's artillery before going on to strafe with blaster cannons, making sure the enemy below felt the rain of lethal green lasers piercing their flesh. Beam turrets ensured they left a wake of destruction as they scorched the earth below them.

"YEEEHAAWWWWW!" He said ensuring his pilots knew how much he was enjoying himself.

"Look at those sithies run!" One of the pilots shouted.

Ugro went in pass after pass to ensure he got as many as possible.

Meanwhile back at the command post, Ysennia was sighing with relief as the gunships were at the Sith's command post. With her men now on the offensive, they had to keep pushing. "Jarkis, tell Colonel D'ran we're going on Phase 4. We're not letting up our momentum."

"Roger that ma'am!" The human comms officer, Lt. Jarkis immediately got on to inform their allies. "Hellstomper this Stormpiercer, we're go on Phase 4."

Lance and Razor Hound were doing nothing the entire battle. They knew their role but at this point they had been standing around for hours waiting for stuff to happen. The infantry in both companies were pretty much standing around with nothing to do. In the command tiger of Lance, the armor company, Captain Koran Grex, a late middle aged human was sitting in his chair resting his sitting in his chair, waiting.

"The Deltas just beat the Convors!" One of his staff officers announced to the room as a mix of groans and cheers could be heard in the walker. Grex however kept silent as he eyed the communicator on the holo table and before he knew it, a light started to flicker.

"SHH!" He shushed his officers and they immediately shut up as he answered the call.

"Lance this is Stormpiercer, Phase 4 is go. Razor Hound also got the all clear. I repeat, Phase 4 is go."

"Solid Copy, Stormpiercer. Beginning Phase 4." Captain Grex then signed off before speaking to his staff. "Rally the troops were moving out." Cheers could be heard as the troops were now looking to get a taste of the action.

Lancer and Razor Hound coordinated to keep a steady pace as they began their march to the front lines. IFV's, APC's, tanks, and walkers were marching from the south to reinforce the 34th that were already doing most of the work. But with fresh reinforcements, they could hopefully turn the tide. The ground rumbled beneath them as hydraulic legs, humming repulsorlifts, treads, and wheels inched until they could see fighting in the distance.

The two companies were now preparing to engage as they met with the retreating forces of Firestorm company. Nexus began firing in the direction of the advancing sith force with their turbo laser cannons while AAC-5's and Ocelots fired salvos of missiles into their formation before infantry deployed from the tigers, APC's, and IFV's, taking positions and setting up a firing line with tanks coming up behind them to lay down fire.

Meanwhile back at base, Courier had triage already set up to care for their wounded from the artillery blast. Captain Karo Yun was commander of the company as well as chief medical officer. Just as he thought he was done with his share of work, more troopers seemed to be piling in. A few dozen had to be treated. Most of the troops were given physical trauma by the shockwave of the artillery that sent them flying. Some had burns from the fire that started in the ammo dump. Few didn't survive even with the best work he could do. Yun's last patient couldn't be saved.

He stepped out of the tent to take a breather before he received a communication in his ear piece. "This is Courier."

"We just received word, the 44th are sending reinforcements."

"Solid copy, Courier out."

Out of all the units in Stormpiercer, the medics were the most blunt. No fanfare, no proper protocol. Hard to keep appearances when you lose a life you're responsible for saving.
Summary:

Spoiler

The air assault company deploys its infantry and recon walkers to fight back against the Sith troopers that have been deployed in drop pods
GALAAT-30 Ziios are strafing and bombing the Sith command post and artillery
Mechanized and armor units are meeting with the retreating forces of the 34th to being a counter attack
Stormpiercer medical personnel await for the 44th to assist them in their efforts to save victims of the Sith's shelling.

 

[Lt. Bren Alazar]

​

Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael,Jeremiel, Seraphim
[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]

The roar of the Woostrian winds, laced with the metallic tang of blood and ozone, was a constant companion to the soldiers dug in at the southern entrance of the Data Center. Above, the sky bled a sickly orange as dust devils danced across the ravaged landscape. The Galactic Alliance forces, a motley collection of species and ranks, were clinging to their positions, desperately trying to hold back the relentless tide of Sith troopers.

Amongst them, a name was whispered with a blend of awe and trepidation: Omega Squad. They were the 305th Special Forces, a legend forged in the fires of countless battles. And their leader, Lt. Commander Bren Alazar, codenamed Michael, was the stuff of myth.

Michael, a human with eyes that held the cold fire of command, surveyed the chaotic scene. His face, scarred with old wounds, was grim, but his voice, when he spoke, held a surprising calmness. [Status report,] he barked into his comm.

[Sith pushing hard on sectors four and six,] came the reply from Jeremiel, Omega Squad's all-rounder, his voice tight with stress. They normally fought as one unit but had been split in this fight to assist regulars. [Heavy casualties. Requesting reinforcement.]

[Negative, Jeremiel,] Michael countered, his gaze never leaving the approaching wave of black-armored figures. [Hold your position. Reinforcements are… unavailable.]

Jeremiel cursed under his breath, but he obeyed. No one questioned Michael's decisions, not anymore. They had learned to trust the man whose instincts were as sharp as a vibroblade.

Suddenly, the ground trembled. A low rumble, like the growl of a beast, echoed across the battlefield. Then, the earth bucked violently. The flooding had begun.

Woostri, a planet renowned for its unstable geological activity, was living up to its reputation. The Sith, in their haste to secure the Data Center, had ignored the warnings. Now, the very ground beneath their feet was turning against them.

Panic erupted in the Sith lines. The disciplined ranks dissolved into a chaotic scramble as troops fought to maintain their footing. Water began to surge across the battlefield, carrying debris and bodies along with it.

Michael's eyes gleamed. It was time.

[Omega Squad, listen up,] he barked into the comm, his voice cutting through the din. [The Sith are about to learn a lesson about Woostrian hospitality. Gabriel, what's the status on your program?]

[Ready to deploy, Michael,] Gabriel replied, his voice crackling with righteous zeal. Gabriel, the team's tech specialist, was a religious zealot in his own right, driven by an unwavering belief in protecting the innocent.

[Good. Azrael, prepare for demolition. Sariel, find a high ground. Raphael, lay down suppressing fire. Jeremiel, with me. Let's turn this flood into a Sith graveyard.]

And with that, Omega Squad sprang into action.

Gabriel activated his program, manipulating the Data Center's environmental controls. Water cannons, designed to cool the massive servers, were redirected, unleashing torrents of water onto the already flooded battlefield, further disorienting the Sith.

Azrael, the team's demolitions expert and resident jokester, grinned as he detonated pre-placed charges along the Sith's main advance route. The explosions sent geysers of water and mud into the air, creating a series of treacherous sinkholes.

Sariel, the team's sniper, a woman as cold and deadly as the Nexu she was named after, found a vantage point atop a partially submerged transport vehicle. Her rifle barked, each shot a precise, lethal strike, picking off Sith officers and heavy gunners with chilling efficiency.

Raphael, the heavy weapons specialist, a man of surprising serenity despite the carnage surrounding him, calmly unleashed a hail of plasma fire from his rotary cannon. His movements were fluid, almost meditative, as he carved a swathe of destruction through the Sith ranks.

Michael, accompanied by Jeremiel, led a charge into the heart of the chaos. They moved through the water with practiced ease, cutting down Sith soldiers with brutal efficiency. Michael's blaster spat death, while Jeremiel, his face grim and determined, used his vibroblade to devastating effect.

The Sith, caught completely off guard, were getting slaughtered, these were not the “Death Brigadiers” those were engaged by Connel already. The flood, combined with Omega Squad's coordinated attack, turned the battlefield into a watery grave.

The tide had turned. The Galactic Alliance forces, emboldened by Omega Squad's daring maneuver, surged forward, pushing back the remaining Sith troops. Even if the building they were just defending collapsed for the most part. [Azrael, every charge you haven’t set off… blow..]

 

[Judah Lesan]

WEARING: Robes
WEAPONS: 2 Lightsabers
ALLIES: Galactic Alliance
ENEMIES: Srina Talon

The blood-soaked tide lapped at his boots, thick and clinging, an ocean of the dead reaching for him. Judah could still hear them, their whispers, their screams, echoing through the shattered remains of his mind. Srina’s voice wove through it all, cold as a blade pressed to his throat.

"She is gone, Jedi. Dead. She cannot help you now."

Katara’s face flickered in the mist, her blue eyes searching for his, her red hair whipping in the unseen wind. She was reaching for him, just beyond his grasp. Just like before.

The memory pulled him under, dragging him deeper into the nightmare’s abyss.

Corellia.

He stood at the door of their home, his heart pounding as the news tore through him like a vibroblade to the ribs. Katara was gone. Dead. And he hadn’t been there. Again.

The arguments, the tension, all of it crashed over him like a wave. He had left her behind too many times. Judah had promised her just one more mission, just one more deployment, until there had been no more tomorrows left to give.

And yet that had not been the worst of it. The worst had been the silence, the way their home had felt empty without her.

Now, standing in the ruins of his nightmare, he was back on that shore, the line between past and present blurred.

The only thing which seemed to be real was the aroma which was on the air, wafting up from the ground, it was on the breeze which came from the ocean. It was her. Srina Talon had him trapped. His body lay on the beach, shards of glass in his back. The rebar twisted about him with plates of durateel and other material from the wreckage, but the sarcophagus around him was just a prison for his body.

The Empress had captured his mind.

Katara was gone, and his salvation with it.

Srina’s grip tightened. The darkness around him snarled, constricting, coiling like a serpent desperate to drag him back into the abyss.

"Do you not wonder why the dead call to you?"

Judah’s breath caught.

"Do you not wonder why the dead call to you? Why they haunt your every step? Because they are waiting for you, Judah Lesan. Waiting for you to join them. But I…”

“...I am not finished with you. You will die when I say, not a moment before."

The nightmare was unrelenting.

The ocean churned around him, waves crashing against the shore of his mind, each one heavier than the last. The blood that lapped at his boots thickened, rising past his ankles, then his knees. It was drowning him, dragging him deeper into the past, into every failure, every regret. He could feel it tightening around his chest, an invisible weight pressing down, pressing in, suffocating.

Srina had all but declared his death was inevitable, though the promise of it, she declared, was only hers to permit.

The nightmare world shuddered.

A deep, resonating tremor rippled through the blood-soaked tide, sending crimson waves crashing upon the shore. The sky above Judah split apart in jagged fractures of light and shadow, torn between the fabric of the dream and the chaotic upheaval of reality. The ground beneath him quaked, the beach groaning under an unseen force. Buildings warped and twisted, their skeletal remains stretching unnaturally before snapping like brittle bones. The echoes of shattered glass and crumbling stone rang out through the ruined cityscape, as if the world itself was coming undone.

Srina’s grip on him wavered, but only for a breath.

Then, the pressure returned, suffocating and unyielding.

Her voice cut through the storm, a whisper wrapped in steel, forcing him back into submission. The nightmare bent beneath her will, distorting, shifting, reshaping. Reality itself was uncertain here. One moment, Judah stood in the ruins of Woostri, the next, he was drowning in an endless abyss, the weight of the ocean crashing down on him.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. It was the tremors of the real world bleeding into his dream. The battle waged outside, the Force stretching and warping as something beyond his nightmare attempted to reach him.

But the shadowy figure was there.

She wove the darkness tighter, latching onto the widening cracks in his mind, anchoring him in the prison she had built.

"I warned you to stay out of my way... You chose to disobey."

"Now…Now you are ONLY mine to break."

There would be one final nightmare as the wind whispered the words which the Dread Queen placed in his mind.

The city around him was gone, the beach washed away. Instead, he stood in the ruins of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, flames licking at the shattered columns, smoke curling into the darkened sky. The stench of death choked the air. Bodies lay at his feet, Jedi bodies. Their lightsabers lay extinguished beside them, the hilts still gripped in lifeless hands.

A crimson glow illuminated his vision.

Judah looked down.

A red blade hummed in his grasp.

His breath caught. His pulse slowed. The weight of the saber was familiar, too familiar.

He staggered backward, only for his heel to catch on something. A body. His son’s face stared up at him, lifeless, his eyes frozen in shock.

"No," Judah whispered.

His throat closed. His grip trembled. He willed himself to let go of the saber, but his fingers would not obey.

And then he felt it.

The power.

It surged through him, dark and unrelenting. It filled the cracks in his soul, mended the broken pieces, made him whole. The pain was gone. The grief, the loss, all of it was gone. In its place there was only clarity, only strength.

He straightened.

The temple burned. The Jedi lay dead.

Judah had done this.

A smirk tugged at his lips, unbidden, unfamiliar, but right.

The Light had failed him. It had abandoned him, cast him aside, made him weak. But the darkness?

The darkness had embraced him.

 

[Drystan Creed]

Power surged through him, coursing down his arm and into the Grandmaster's lightsaber. Golden electricity lashed out from the blade, clawing at the stone around him, carving deep, jagged scars into the battlefield.

Maybe this was all that kept him standing.

The thrill of it—the rush, the adrenaline of something new.

But he knew the truth.

Once this attack was unleashed, he would fall. Every last ounce of energy, every reserve he had clung to, was being funneled into this one final strike.

It had to be.

Hiding in the shadows wouldn't suffice. Not here. Not anymore.

"For the first time tonight, I agree with you, Sith." His voice was steady, resolute.

"I'm ending this."

Despite the overwhelming power flowing through him, the technique was new. Unrefined. Raw.

It felt unfinished.

But even so, it was more than he had ever expected himself to create. More power than he thought he deserved.

And he would do everything in his power to make sure he didn't misuse it.

Zachariah charged, the Sith Knight tearing across the battlefield toward him.

Drystan held his ground.

He centered himself, conserving what little remained of his strength. Letting Zachariah close the distance. Waiting.

Then—he struck.

His blade lifted high. Then came down.

Lightning erupted, swallowing the battlefield.

The force of the blow split the very sky, a jagged rift tearing through the storm. A clean gash carved into the clouds, scattering them along its path, clearing a massive wound in the heavens.

A blinding golden light followed, radiating outward from the impact, engulfing the ruins around them.

This was it. His final strike.

Whether it found its mark or not—he had nothing left to give.

The last vestiges of his strength, his power, drained into this final gambit.

The energy. The adrenaline. Gone.

And in its place: Exhaustion.

Deep. Overwhelming.

His body gave.

Zachariah Conway

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Woostri
Coming in Like a Wrecking Ball
with Corazona von Ascania

Exit Soundtrack
​

The whir of violent motion.
An aggressive clash, the trading of strong and cunning blows.
Hungry, lashing vines that crept closer and closer, awaiting the chance to flank the beleaguered Jedi Knight.

A'Mia had calmed somewhat, had found her center and regrouped her form. Just in time to clash with Cora as the building they dueled atop went careening toward the Data Center. What began as a slow slide, a gradual tipping motion, gained terrible momentum and crashed down sideways. With little time to react given how focused she was on taking no further damage from her opponent, A'Mia had to be scrappy. Elongating the limbs of her two enthralled pets, the neti seized the forced disengagement as an opportunity to wrap her battered form tightly with their larger forms, rapidly spinning herself up into a very different kind of cocoon than Cora.

Her pets would not dare to eat her, could not even think of such mutiny. However, A'Mia played by a different set of rules. As the world came crashing down, while Sithspawn shielded their creator and she might otherwise have succumbed to her wounds, the woman sapped their strength to bolster her own recovery. In the vicious give and take between a small god and her creations, A'Mia took back the life-force she had given the creatures upon their creation.

In the settling dust and faintly clattering duracrete, with a backdrop of chaos that stormed on all around the crash site, the Lord Seer of Korriban stirred from within a now shrivled mass of dead, once mighty vines.

Spoiler: Spoiler Summary

The fight got messy and the girlies are bringing down the house.

A'Mia shields herself with Sithspawn and heals with their lifeforce, sacrificing them to regain biomass.

To Be Continued...

Any of A'Mia's Sithspawn that are not dispatched, or collected by their maker immediately post battle have a 70% chance of becoming an invasive species on the planet

 

[Naamino Zuukamano]

Outfit
Belt of Strength, Field Com-Scan Link,
Weal & Woe
Kor'ethyr Issued Kainate Trooper Armor
Armor Permissions

Control Room &
Return Journey to Frigate
[PvE]

Soundtrack

​

Everything was proceeding mostly as planned, and they'd made good time in getting there. But the sounds coming from outside and from deeper within the data center were definitely beginning to reach a fever pitch despite the relative calm of this back room.

"Hah!" Haro exclaimed with a manic excitement, shuffling over to pull the big red lever. He spun to face his friend but caught sight of movement that Haro immediately registered as a threat.

Time seemed to stand still for Naami too, icy blue eyes widening with shock and the faintest tinge of confused hurt as Haro turned and leveled his hand-cannon at him. The blast rang painfully in his ears and he flinched, but the teen registered that Haro had been aiming past him. The zabrak turned to quickly appraise the situation, cold gaze taking everything in before he leapt back into action. After Naami pressed the datapad back into Haro's hand, his helmet was back on in moments with a click then whoosh as it pressurized.

"I... I didn't... I'm sorry," he muttered despondently, staring past Naami at the bleeding corpse, his crystalline eyes glittering as they welled up with such deep sorrow. "I'm sorry."

He quickly reached for the boy's helmet to secure it for him, brusque attempts at reassurance forthcoming as he readied their hasty departure.

"Nothing to be sorry for, you just saved my neck. C'mon, we can't stay— got a bad feeling about staying still."

The fog crept back with every polyrhythmic beat in his chest, the very temporary reprieve they'd felt had been shattered in a moment and now they needed to survive the return journey. Naami had shifted back into stern practicality mere moments after Haro eliminated a deadly threat, but his friend seemed frozen in place. The zabrak tried again, coaxing with more kindness but also significantly more urgency.

"Haro, buddy? C'mon we have to leave right now. Please."

Water was more prevalent in the hallways, and more seemed to be rushing in, all while the earth trembled at increasing intervals. Naami recoiled from it a bit on some imparted instinct, then wondered why he had. They made haste and faced no other opposition within the building, pushing their way through the exit while having to step over the bodies of allies and enemies alike.

Their return to no-man's-land was less violent, though no less hectic than their initial trek. Fissures in the planet's crust had caused the upheaval of previously clear streets, duracrete littered the ground, and numerous buildings were damaged, with fierce combatants still facing off. Naami kept Haro very close, his stance with Woe exceedingly defensive against projectiles.

Eventually, they broke free from the worst of the fighting and ran at full speed, and Naami used a technique Haro hadn't yet seen the teen use. With such immense access to the Darkside thanks to so many gathered, collaborating Sith, the Zabrak called upon Similfuturus to have a seemingly perfect copy of himself guarding their six. In any other circumstance, the boy would have already been too exhausted, or the effect might have taken its lesser form of blurred afterimages that made him harder to hit. All in all, the Force double was unnecessary, but Naami was glad to know Haro couldn't just be sniped so easily.

Something else strange occurred as the pair made their way closer to the glassed beach. Unbeknownst to them, Taeli Raaf wove new possibilities into being through deft manipulation of Light and Dark- creating visions and opening portals at the places between the two. Already having one duplicate of himself accompanying them, the boy almost didn't catch on to the strange kaleidoscope effect happening. There was a brief moment where his momentum forward stalled as he blinked, huffed out a confused breath, and turned to Haro as if to silently ask "Are you seeing this chit?"

Before much discussion could occur, instinct pulled Naami's eyes to a rift in reality. At just the right angle, there appeared to be a window hanging at knee level and shimmering glassed beach should be seen through it. When he looked at it from too harsh of an angle the mirage seemed to disappear entirely. The pressure that had been building behind his eyes, the urge to move, to keep going. Tentatively, Naami approached the window and somehow knew it was safe for him to traverse through. With only a brief pause, the zabrak stepped carefully through then turned to offer a hand to help his companion through.

The teens arrived at their extraction zone well ahead of some of their other allies, so Naami used the opportunity to get his breathing under control and tried to clear his head. Eventually, as more Kor'ethyr forces reunited, the frigate "Vorpal Fang" which had been designated to pick them up, landed with haste. Naami first gave report to their direct superior, then with great diligence began assisting Haro in the removal of armor, assessment for wounds, and general debriefing. He maintained a serious stoicism with an intense focus on the tasks at hand, not allowing his mind to wander too far into thoughts of the mayhem and carnage they'd just left behind.

 

[Haro Aven]

​

LOCATION: EXPANSION REGION > WOOSTRI > OUTSKIRTS OF GOPSAL​

OVERALL OBJECTIVE: BREACH THE CENTRAL ARCHIVES AND COMPUTATION BUILDING...UPLINK THE INFORMATION TO MORS MON​

SQUAD OBJECTIVE: RETREAT!!!​

EQUIPMENT: Bodie | Field Com-Scan Link | Kor'ethyr-Issued Sith Trooper Armor (Permission) | Vibroknives | "The Vora" Hand Canon | EMP Grenades | Smoke Grenades | Electronic Lock Breaker ​

TAGS: Naamino Zuukamano | [PVE]​

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At first, Naami's gruff words were nothing more than muffled gibberish to Haro. He couldn't peel his eyes away from the corpse lying motionless on the platform. The powerful hand canon blast had blown off a good chunk of their helmet but the face, at least what was left of it, was unrecognizable due to the severity of the wound. It could have been anyone. It had been someone. Someone's son or daughter, someone's friend, someone who had been killed by Haro Aven. The longer he stared, the more numb and outside of his own body he felt, as if his mind was trying to run away but his body was frozen in place.

"I'm sorry," he repeated softly in a broken whisper. He closed his hand around the data pad, moving as if on autopilot. Absently, he allowed himself to be jostled by his frantic friend fussing over him and helping him get his helmet back on. The other boy's physical contact helped ground him and bring him out of his numb haze more effectively than any verbal reassurances could have, and he finally met his eyes through their visors. He nodded and blinked a few times as if coming back to himself.

"Yeah... yeah, OK," he said, stowing his data pad and holstering his gun. He wanted to toss the weapon over the railing and never see it again, but survival instinct won out. He turned and held out his hand out to Bodie, who leaped into his open palm to be swiftly tucked away, then he took off after Naami.​

[EXTRACTION]​

Haro kept pace with his Zabrak friend through the flooding hallways and out into the courtyard. He was glad to stay close together as they navigated the battlefield, which had been transformed by the clashing of such powerful forces into an even more chaotic hell scape than it had been before. Ground and buildings alike appeared to have been torn asunder, leaving gaping fissures and chunks of rubble strewn about. The whole area buzzed with the hum of energy, no doubt saturated with the Force. So much so, in fact, that time and space seemed to warp around them as they ran. Haro startled as figures began to appear within the storm as if out of nowhere, apparitions of... himself? and of Naami too? His mind spun as he turned about, trying to make sense of it all. He caught Naami's confused gaze, simultaneously relieved and concerned that he wasn't the only one seeing this, and shook his head in disbelief. He followed Naami's gaze as the boy's attention was drawn away, as if someone had called his name, to find a rift hovering in the air before them, a tear in reality, a window to the distant beach.

Haro very nearly reached out to stop Naami from stepping up closer to the thing but he seemed so sure of himself so Haro just cautiously followed. He would've held his breath as he watched Naami step partway through if he wasn't breathing so hard. Thankfully, nothing bad appeared to happen but Haro still hesitated. Then another tremor rocked him and the deafening sound of buildings crashing into one another nearby filled the battlefield. He flinched, stealing a panicked glance over his shoulder, then grabbed Naami's outstretched hand and, holding tight to his buddy, followed him through the portal. They stepped out onto the beach and Haro whirled around to eye the portal with suspicious curiosity. He took a moment to get his bearings, catch his breath, and watch the now distant destruction.

After reaching the extraction point, Haro shared their moment alone on the beach in silence, reeling with the overwhelming shock of it all, until the Vorpal Fang finally landed to collect what was left of the Kor'ethyr forces. Even after they were safely boarded and the frigate took to the air, Haro didn't stray far from Naami, even as the Zabrak made his report to their superior. Besides brief answers to direct questions, Haro remained uncharacteristically quiet and subdued as Naami diligently helped guide him through the motions, aiding in removing his armor, checking him for wounds. He tried to stay focused on those simple tasks like Naami in hopes that it might help him the way it seemed to be helping his friend but, with each passing moment, it became clearer that the effects of what he'd just endured would not allow him peace anytime soon.​

[EXIT]​

 

[Srina Talon]

Ally Tag: Sith Order Taeli Raaf | Darth Empyrean | Quinn Varanin | Kasir Dorran | Madrona A’Mia | Zachariah Conway | Commodore Helix | Darth Strosius | Jhyrack | Kartus Lok | Alana Calloway | Tamsin Graves | Kaila Irons Eira Dyn | Festerruman Sachiel | Haro Aven | Darth Nefaron | Veradun Sharr | Lysander von Ascania | Vector Monk | Kivah | Amara Zambrano
Enemy Tag: GA - Judah Lesan
Location: Now on the Beach - Outskirts of Gopsthal
Equipment: Robes | Saber | Ring | Ring
Ship: Landing Castle x | Cruiser [Requiem] x | Frigates [3] | Beacon
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It was all falling apart.

Woostri had been the staging ground, the sacrifice, and golden-hewn eyes could see the largest life-bearing island slowly tearing itself asunder. She would never voice the words, nor share the thought, but the utter destruction of this world had never been her goal. She had no quarrel with the rain-filled sky or the pristine beach that the Landing Castle had turned unmercifully to glass. She had no quarrel with a civilization that barely registered on a galactic scale. Perhaps, that was why the Alliance had hidden intelligence on such a backwater. It was out of the way.

Unassuming.

The last place the Sith Order might look for the key to bringing down their age-old adversaries.

As damaged as Woostri was she could still see Alliance Assault Battalions running roughshod over land that had already taken a beating. The enemy enjoyed it. The fight…The adrenaline. Srina inhaled and with that breath came the truth of war playing out in the back of her mind. There were blips in the ephemeral pattern of fear, grim determination, and hate. Phantom flickers of light. Not to her surprise she was even able to register some having fun while decimating what they had sworn to protect.

Her head shook, the irony, and hypocrisy not lost on her.

No. She had no quarrel with this world, nor, did she take pleasure in watching the populace drown and burn from existing in an active combat zone. It didn't matter, however. A boot had no quarrel with an ant and yet it still rolled over the unsuspecting without hesitation. As the data-center flooded and the facility beneath them was said to be failing due to enemy intervention…The only question she had left was one of perplexity and authentic consideration. Her mind could grasp a great many things, but this?

It was complicated.

Which—Between the Galactic Alliance and the Sith Order—Was truly the boot?

The Empress, with much chagrin, settled on both. One foot was simply not aware of the other.

The swaths of destruction through Sith ranks caused her expression to harden, her lips, pressed into a thin line while her eyes went flat. It was war. It was collateral damage. But they were her people passing en masse and she did not care to be fair toward the other side. She was not required to accept it, like it, or condone it. The power that Taeli Raaf now channeled had done what it could to even the field of engagement but it didn't change the fact that every part of her raged at the knowledge that they would leave Woostri less whole than they had been upon arrival. They hadn't lost in her eyes…But they hadn't won.

Every Sith lost was worth a hundred Alliance whelps—Thus her loss was not equal. It was not shared. It was a theft of potential, a theft of life, a theft of the future, and anything that her lost loyalists would have produced in their lifetimes. Every bit of knowledge. Every child they might have created, legacy, wiped out in the blink of an eye and the crashing sound of ordinance and mortars…

Mortars and church bells.

Ringing, merrily, while flesh and blood beings were pummeled into pink mist.

One more of her children. Crumbling, slipping…Right before her eyes. Her head tilted as the black flame that was Eira Dyn winked out. Not dead, perhaps, but her fight had ended.

"Go…"

Her voice would carry and pierce the minds of the Praetorian Guard that were waiting with several stealth frigates on the fringes of the battlefield. One was reserved for the Kor'ethyr students and their Mistress Madrona A’Mia but the others would spread out. There were too many pilots of the Alliance in the air for them to drop their shielding but they could start collecting her fallen children. It would be viewed as a weakness to drag their broken forms from the rubble, to haul, what was left of them back to Jutrand whether they wanted it or not. To show them favor, to show their value, when the Sith Empress ought to devour whole those who failed…Was an anathema of what the Sepulchral expected.

She would likely never hear the end of it but that was nothing new. Wounds could be treated. Strength could be reforged, even, in the fires of failure. Those who burned out could be taught to rise with pain and agony at their back, horror, forcing them to stand tall again. Srina understood this, brutally, but the undead priests of the Eternalist religion did not.

It was just one more reason they loathed the wife of the Corpse King. Perhaps, more than they loathed the Emperor himself.

The Requiem, her stealth cruiser, dropped down nearby…But didn't quite land. It hovered. The Landing Castle was doing what it was made to do. Devour. With every hour that it remained intact, it began distributing more and more droids that would flush toward the epicenter of varying firefights. They would reinforce the Sith that remained strong, fighting, with all they had. Her eyes seemed to fill with rolling fire for a moment while she surveyed the surrounding area. How much land could the castle stand to lose? How could she secure it with Sith, powerful and prevailing, slowly falling to a domino effect that would bring them back to her?

It came to her in silence.

One way in.

One way out.

The shatter point that she had offered to the Sith Order was still there. Srina…Merely had yet to make violent use of it. Her eyes closed once more and she followed the crisscrossing leylines of power that wrapped around the Lady of Secrets and spread up and down the coast. Rather than to remain a spectator and view the cracks in Woostri, she filled them precisely, and shoved them further apart so that large pieces of the beach would shear off and drop into the ocean. It would shield them from the Force Light and lower the threshold for where it would touch their eyes. It would make the terrain all but impossible to pass except for the path that led toward the castle. For Sith? Concealment. For Jedi?

It would become a shooting gallery.

<<Sargent Lok…Return whether you have repaired the beacon or not. It seems that the machine will not be required. The Alliance has chosen to flood the data center without our intervention.>>

Kartus Lok was a simple soldier, quiet, and followed orders. It was not lost on her that he had acted in her defense in trying to deal with the Jedi menace, but in his haste, he had damaged something vital to their mission. Srina should have anticipated that the Alliance was willing to sink and flood their own buildings to keep their secrets. Why wouldn't they?

It was what the Sith Order would have done.

So many of her people had fallen. So many, would still perish. And yet—She would remain steadfast until Darth Empyrean demanded that his wife depart from this animated watery graveyard. The Sith who remained would endure, thus, so would she. They owed it to those who had already been claimed by the void, more importantly, they owed it to themselves. The carnage would not move her. The shifting tides of destruction would not break her—Nor was she willing to back down over glowing water and an objective that had been flooded. <<Those that cannot fight…Return.>>

So that they may fight another day, harder, and without mercy. It was wasteful to order Sith to be slaughtered by the Jedi when there was another way. Her whispers carried to their ears as always, sneaking, wicked things with dark omens in a black tongue. It was a serpentine blend of basic and High Sith that they would find they had very little trouble at all comprehending. There were many people who still had their spirit, their dark fire, and she could feel them giving every ounce of themselves. Fighting not only the Alliance but the Force itself…It was more than might. More than their last breath—But their very essence, for the cause. They would fight until the last.

Even as the Force Light imbued water rose to slowly devour them from beneath.

<<Those that still can—Show the Jedi the truth. They have protected nothing, no one, and this planet is paying the price for their arrogance. We may pivot…But Sith do not yield. Make them suffer.>>

After all…The Alliance could have spared Woostri infinite suffering—Infinite pain…If only they had chosen to get out of the way. This mayhem had been their decision, this war, their prerogative.

Her focus turned to the Jedi in her immediate vicinity once more. Speaking of suffering…Judah would. He remained ensnared within her grasp, his mind a battlefield more treacherous than any war-torn city. She wove nightmare after nightmare into his reality, dragging him deeper into the heartache of his ineptitude. Jedi all had one thing in common. Ego. The vicious cycle of believing they were always in the right because to admit that they'd acted in folly also meant that several other things were true. They were immoral. Killers—Murderers of the highest order with rules that they forced on others but never bothered to apply to themselves.

Judah Lesan had killed someone for revenge.

Not for the greater good. Not to save lives, even if it had, but for the vengeance that burned in his heart. The inky red water that lapped at his boots would climb higher, filling his lungs, drowning him with a truth that he couldn't outrun. He had darkness in him. Srina had not placed it there. Srina had not changed his beliefs nor forced him to kill so many moons ago. That was all Judah…And so many others like him. She would not waste her strength on indulgence. The pain she brought him was a tool, not a toy. If she wanted to kill him, she would. If she meant to break him…

She would at least ensure that he was useful when he shattered.

They might have lost the data center, but they still had this, a little shadow, in captivity. Who knew what secrets she might be able to pry from Judah Lesan when his mind betrayed him. He had come to her of his own volition. Already, he thought of her. Already, his darkness broke through a veneer of goodness. It was his true self.

She could see the murderer, the craven, the man that lived inside. Now…So did he.

<<Don't you see why you've been drawn to shadow? You wield it well, Jedi. Do you not know?"

Srina padded toward the stealth cruiser while gesturing for a group of soldiers to start moving him, sarcophagus, and all, into the ship. The Jedi would wake from this nightmare if and when she damn well felt like letting him. He let her in on Echnos.

He would never get her out.

<<The darkness has always been yours. You are not a victim…You are a vessel.>>, her soft tones trickled in, edged in ice, slithering through his thoughts. <<Fight me as much as you wish…It won't change your fate. You will break for me. And when you do…You will thank me on your knees—>>

<<—And destroy everything you've ever loved.>>

The pale Echani leaped up onto the ramp of the Requiem which waited for her like a gaping maw, steam rising from hydraulics, but she sat at its edge. Her armor was stained and torn, dark with blood, some hers—Most not. Silver strands of hair clung to her face, matted with sweat and battle grime, but her eyes remained sharp. Distant, unwavering.

A nearby officer shifted uneasily while the prisoner was lifted and directed toward the nearest cell. Made for traitors—Fit for a Jedi. She could sense his confusion. He did not understand why she lingered. Why, when the battle was ending, when her place was above all this, why did the Sith Empress not retreat into the comfort of her ship? He did not speak—he would not dare—but his uncertainty clung to the air like smoke. The Emperor would be very cross if his wife did not return intact. He looked carefully between the seated Dread Queen and the Dark Councilor who was still on the field. Srina was pale and drawn. Taeli was…Petrifying.

Why did they remain?

Srina exhaled, slowly, while varying levels of exhaustion set in. She had been running on all cylinders since they made landfall and it was only now that she became aware of pain settling that would burn like fire come the morning. Her pallid skin would show every bruise, every mark, and it would take hours to scrub the gunk out of her hair. She ached for a piece of celery. It was the only thing that took the taste of blood out of her mouth. "Board with the others…"

"Lady Talon?"

Her head tilted back to take in the light of the fire-fights burning above. Through the shield of the Landing Castle it almost looked like fireworks. She should go, but her people still had boots on the ground. "I will wait…", she intoned, voice even, but unshaken. Her fingers curled over the edge of the ramp, steady, despite fatigue weighing on her mind and body.

For a long moment, there was no response, but the officer bowed before getting into the cruiser, following orders She could see the silhouette of dozens of droids and walkers moving out. Hear droidekas unfolding amid distant screams. She would remain. She would stay. Watching. Waiting. Ensuring that the fight was finished before she left the corpse known as Woostri behind.

She spoke to no one, now. Nothing but the wind.

"I want to see how it ends."

 

[Tamsin Graves]

Theme: Demons
Equipment: Twin Omens | DE-10 | Combat Knife | Multi-Tool | Circlet of Projection
Allies: Sith Order
Enemies: Galactic Alliance
Tags: Alana Calloway | Katherine Holt

"Stop crying child, your physical pain is temporary in time it will fade, and your wounds will heal. It is not worth shedding a tear over." ​

The Demon continued to look out the frozen window waiting for the angel to arrive and the soldier to come to their side. It could feel the soldier rising and making it way to them with all the blood and adrenaline pumping through their veins. It could feel the very world being torn asunder by the violent clashing forces. The eternal battle of light and dark but what neither side saw was the inevitability that these wars did not matter. In the end there was only the last flame of entropy and when it burned out there was nothing.

The demon slowly pushed itself up to its feet using the wall behind it to steady itself. Its breathing was heavy, but it felt no pain turning all its anguish on the child inside of it. The girl moaned and writhed in the pain of a thousand cuts and broken ribs but the demon felt nothing. The cries rang out in the skull from the child but also from the all the dead and dying it could feel on the world and yet it did not care.

The Demon could feel it as the angel flew away faced by some great darkness arriving through a portal. In that same moment the demon felt it the severing of Kaila Irons force, for moment it thought maybe something good had come of this day. It did not get its angel wings but the ghost eater might no longer be a threat to its path to victory and turning the child in the direction it want.

"You feel that child, no more power in her I could so easily snap her neck like a twig even from here. No one could stop me."​

The demon raised its left hand putting a thumb to its middle finger ready to snap them in a spell to silence the girls so called sister.

"Just a snap and I will snuff out her meaningless existence."​

The demon went to snap their fingers, but something inside would not let it, the girl was fighting back. The demon could feel the girl fueling all her pain and hatred to fight back, a smirk crossed the demon's face. For a moment just a moment the demon admired the girls will to fight even if it was misguided and misplaced. So the demon let go of the posed fingers it knew it could out will the child but it would let the girl have this victory but not the next one. Then it felt the spark of the force return to Kaila Irons as the spirits granted her power.

"Very well her judgement shall be served on a different battlefield."​

The demon turned to look at the arriving soldier. "The Angel is gone, like a bird escaped the cage. In its place a sith spawn with inferior wings. I grow bored of this world all that remains here is death." The demon moved to the window with grunting heavy breaths once there it looked up at the magnificent dome it had created as a cage. "Next time." The demon said as it patted the broken window.

She then looked at the soldier, looked right through them like they weren't really there with her fiery eyes. "I am Darth Sokar, if you serve me, you can live if not this shall be your tomb. I swear on all the stars if you kneel before me right now I will cut your damn eyes out." Then the demon turned to its back on the soldier like it did not fear them, it did not fear anyone. Then it disengaged the saber and put it back on it's belt before raising both hands in front of it. It's hands and fingers began to dance and the demon began to chant. "ᛈᛟᚱᛏᚨᛚᛋ ᛟᚠ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᛈᛟᚱᛏ ᛏᚨᚲᛖ ᚢᛋ ᛏᛟ ᛋᚨᚠᛖᛏᚣ ᚨᚹᚨᛚ ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ᛏᚺᛁᛋ ᛈᛚᚨᛋᛖ." A purple ichor of smoke began to whirl around in front of the demon in girls' skin as black portal opened in front of them.

"Make your choice, live and serve or be left here. The choice is through that portal, and it knows the truth of your soul. Whatever you choose you served well today." The demon did not look back at the Soldier just stared forward into the portal waiting the soldiers choice to go through or stay behind. It would follow to whatever was on the other side, which was one sith evac zone.

 

[Alana Calloway]

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Knowledge ​

Allies: Tamsin Graves​

Enemies: Katherine Holt​

Armor:
S-6 "Eclipse" Class Legion Combat Armor

Weapons:
HG-88 Big Iron
SD-L1 Long Blaster
HESTIZO-201 "Silverrain" Vaccine
1 x VB-113 "Tidefall" Class Vibroblade
Gear:
Slicing Glove
DS-102 "Aegis" Personal Energy Shield
Sentinel Tech Gloves
VKA-7J "Hurricane" Combat Stimulant
G1 Omni Link

Alana's breath came sharp and fast as she dangled from the ruined ceiling, fingers tight around the rappel line. The acrid scent of scorched metal and shattered stone filled her lungs, mixing with the blood still crusting the inside of her mask. Below, the battlefield pulsed with dying embers of power—clashes of light and dark echoing in the Force like distant screams.

She descended in silence, boots skimming against fractured beams as she made her way down. Her body ached from the earlier fight, but she forced it to move. She had no time for pain. No time for doubt.

Then, she hit the ground. The moment her boots touched the cold surface, she unhooked from the line, rolling her shoulders to shake out the lingering stiffness. Her body still wasn't hers, not entirely. The angel's unseen will tugged at her, forcing her forward against every instinct that screamed to stop. To fight.

But she couldn't fight. Not yet.

Her fingers twitched toward her weapons, but she didn't draw, couldn’t draw. Not here. The phantom sensations of her body seemed to mock her attempt.

The moment she locked eyes with Darth Sokar, she knew she was being measured. Judged.

"I am Darth Sokar. If you serve me, you can live. If not, this shall be your tomb. I swear on all the stars, if you kneel before me right now, I will cut your damn eyes out."

Alana met the demon's gaze, her expression unreadable beneath the smears of blood and sweat.

She did not kneel.

She did not move.

She only watched.

Then, the demon turned away. The portal opened, swirling with shadows, its promise thick as poison in the air.

"Make your choice. Live and serve, or be left here. Whatever you choose, you served well today."

Alana's jaw tensed. Choice. That word was an insult. There was no choice.

There never had been.

Her body stepped forward, the unseen chains still pulling, still binding.

Alana's muscles burned with the effort to resist, but her body moved anyway, answering to a will that was not her own. Each step felt like a betrayal, her limbs obeying the silent command of the angel's presence. She was watching herself from behind a veil of ice—trapped in the prison of her own flesh.

Her breath was ragged, but not from exhaustion. Rage coiled in her gut, a molten weight pressing against her ribs. She wasn't a stranger to control, to having her will bent under the heel of another. She had spent years dodging collars, slipping cuffs, keeping her hands unbound and her choices her own. But this? This was worse than shackles.

Alana clenched her fists. She could still feel the fight within her, buried deep beneath the weight of unseen chains. Her body obeyed, but her mind did not yield, not fully.

Her lip curled—not in fear, not in submission, but in the sharp, bitter amusement of someone who had been promised death before.

Her body remained still, waiting, but inside, she seethed.

The demon turned its back on her, as if she had already been judged, already been decided. The portal opened, its swirling dark promise sucking the air from the room.

Her body stepped forward. Not out of submission. Not out of obedience. But because whatever dweller inside her desired it.

As she neared the portal, she exhaled sharply, forcing steel into her spine, fire into her blood. If this was her path now, it would not be walked in chains.

She may take their orders for now. But she would learn their secrets. She would sharpen herself on the edge of their cruelty.

And when the time came, when the weight of their arrogance pressed too heavily on their own throats—

She would see them all burn for what they had done to her.

Maybe this Tamsin woman could help.