The Conflagration of New Holstice [TSE/SJO]

[Jairus Starvald]

[member="Eye of Solomon"]

A burning fire ran through the sky like rain.

Once it came close enough it became clear these weren't asteroids. Instead they were high-velocity drop pods launched from orbit and making its way towards the battlefield. Some of them were shot down by the anti-air defense systems put in place in the past. They either imploded into balls of detritus or were blown out of course. A handful of them embedded themselves directly into the district next to where the fighting was heaviest. They deployed immediate shields to allow its passengers a push outside.

They weren't Silver Jedi.

The pods had no distinguishing marks that could identify them.

But the moment those doors opened there was a push against the miasma of the Darkside hanging around the battlefield. A sun, scalding and harsh, bathing those around it in light. Some would be encouraged by its firm touch. Their spirits lifted by its presence. Others? Would shy away, because creatures of the dark cannot stand the light.

The first one through was a being in golden armor. Features hidden behind gilded visor. This was the point of origin of the light. This was what would draw at Novae to approach.

"Forward." The voice commanded from out of the armor.

The Companions pressed on and they brought death.

 

[WelshPsych]

Yuroic held his Lightsaber firmly, letting it absorb the lightning. However, the Sith had revealed a possible fatal flaw, his need for range. Yuroic suspected that the stive would not be effective in close combat, being too heavy and not the weapon for close combat. Seeing the Sith leap back, it brought a knowing smirk back to Yuroic's face. "If you keep your distance like that, I'll start thinking I smell!" He gave a mock sad look as he jumped forward. A predator leaping upon its prey. His stance went to Djem So, aggressive and fast combat, he felt confident with his left hand guiding the Lightsaber.

His strikes were aimed at the limbs, aiming at the knees and forearms. A strike from his Lightsaber to any of them would quickly end the duel. He was interested in taking the Sith alive, he never wanted to kill others but he knew he would if the Sith forced his hands. His anger was fueling his attacks, making them faster and precise as he continued to attack. His lips curled into a smirk as he did.

[member="Kahlil Zambrano"]

 

[Kahlil Noble]

This was problematic. [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] had already begun to use Dubiety's need for space against him, and he could already see his own loss coming. Each step backwards in an attempt to make room was quickly followed by the Jedi. He was almost like a mutt, nipping at it's masters heals in a rage. The staff couldn't keep up with the strikes as Kahlil soon found, the heavy weapon knocked up and away from him, leaving his body exposed for the next strike the Jedi was sure to take.

And he grinned.


"D̘̬͈̙͈̗̳a̘̹͓͉̝͈̳r̡̰k͔̜̣͎͔s̴͓̯̦͔̱ẖ̸͔̣͓e̮̠̰͇̘̟͘a̫̟̹̪̩͢r̤̫̝̟͖̰̯͘."

Simultaneously Kahlil's free hand came around to the saber, deflecting it aside with a sudden jolt of lightning used as a shield. Then from the red gem a sudden presence in the dark. A sorcerer was at disadvantage in melee, but they weren't completely helpless. A spear invisible to the naked eye flew from the glowing red gem, flying right for the Jedi's torso. Far from a master sorcerer's level however the most it would do would impact and knock the Jedi away, perhaps break a rib if the young Sith was lucky. But all he wanted was space after all.

 

[Kei Amadis]

Allies: [member="Jessica Med-Beq"] | [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"]
Enemies: [member="Eye of Solomon"] | [member="Tathra Khaeus"]
Unidentified: [member="Michael Sardun"]
Objective: Organize the Planets Garrison and the Wildcards into a makeshift defensive line, while waiting for relief to arrive.

Location:
Alpha Site – Forward Regional Command Bunker. 40km from the primary invasion site

Spoiler

2 Miles Underground.
Stand Facility Shield Generator Status (Green) 100%
Basement Reserve Facility Shield Generator Status (Offline)
OS-PDS 100%
Base Structure 100%
Basic 5 Floor Layout, 2 Upper: Defensive | Defensive - 3 Underground: Medical Bay | Command Room | Generator Room

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YzG4RZNLuUk​

[member="Jessica Med-Beq"] | [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"]
“All Allied Forces. STATIC JAMMED… scattered contacts… STATIC JAMMED…. Population centers. STATIC Requesting Evac on… STATIC Jammed. Air Cover Minim STATIC Requesting STATIC immediately”

“Do something about that signal” Amadis scratched his stubble. There were some sparks as the bunker took another battering of orbital, starfighter or ground fire. “Guess they’ve got us zeroed in. Your birds in the air yet?”

“Soon” The commander responded, “getting reports our nearest hangar bays were knocked out in the first wave.”

“They’ve no air cover whatsoever?” Kei looked up at the roof, as another fall of dust almost hit his eye.

“No, no way to let them know. Not with this Jamming going on.” The commander looked up with him to the roof. How long would this bunker hold up? They were going to find out.

Amadis turned to the defense force’s monitors above him. Might be jamming, might be something else. Signals were still getting in at least. Tracking troop movements and whatever intel the ships coming into orbit had offered. “Command. Nothing much engaging us yet, taken some serious collateral damage in the cities though.” The messages came in from the field in rapid succession. “Calvanis is burning, need emergency evacs in the southern quarter.” Static. “Lost all power to the generators at Vexor, entire city is in panic”

“Have to expect them to try for terror tactics.” The 92nd Commander commented at the reports, many and varied. Still leading things, the man was out of his depth. Amadis wasn’t a field commander anymore, he was tasked with supplies and logistics. Advising him as best he was able if they could even get a signal out. At least they were getting signals in.

"Keep your head commander, you are doing fine." The Jedi Master grinned, but as the bunker shook, it wasn't much comfort

NPC Infantry Forces:

Spoiler

1,500 x 92nd Regulars, Planetary Defense Force Battalion.
Front Line 25km West of Sith Force | Harassing Actions
1,500 x Wildcard Veteran Special Forces, Ace of Spades Battalion
Rear Line 30km West of Sith Force | Digging In
500 x 91st Infantry Heavy Houk Fire Support
Rear Line 30km West of Sith Force | Digging In Supporting Wildcards

Reserves Infantry / Vehicles / CAS Fighters

Spoiler

TBD. Fighters Launching Soon tm.

 

[Jessica Med-Beq]

Location: New Holstice
Allies: [member="Kei Amadis"] [member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Michael Sardun"]
Enemies: [member="Eye of Solomon"] [member="Tathra Khaeus"]

"Nothing much engaging us yet, taken some serious collateral damage in the cities though"

"General, we are also reporting some jamming near the cities"

"Prepare evacuation craft, air cover; we're going in to rescue those civilians trapped in the rubble, hit those jammers hard, and maybe we can take out enemy pockets of anti-aircraft along with those in strafing runs"

The early stages of the Siege of the Machine was precisely that: taking out enemy pockets within sensor jammer range, but the sensor noise made the jammers stand out on the sensor display. Upon reversion, the battle was already taking place in orbit, with the Silver fleet duking it out against the Sith, while the landing craft were making their descent with troops in tow and taking up position somewhere else, somewhere away from the vanguard while also being away from the city, advancing towards the underground access points at the capital city's outskirts while being aware of enemy elements. And yet, for some reason, it was a good opportunity for her to flank the enemy, with airstrikes ready to drop bombs on those jammers. At the same time, if attacking them, along with any anti-aircraft elements nearby, was not enough to cause the Blackblade Guard to desire attacking her forces, then it meant a number of things. Maybe the Blackblade Guard could be part of some trap that could threaten both Silver forces and the civilians they were to save. The job was, well, different then. Especially with medvac getting into position to rescue as many civilians as was feasible under these conditions. MobileMortar-4s therefore hit the road in a two-pronged mission: scouting and also conducting hit-and-run attacks on enemy anti-aircraft elements, barring that, enemy artillery, including tanks if they could fire at their underside armor using missiles. As they were on their way to the closest underground accesses... evac units were making their approach where there still were civilians left to save.

"Calvanis is burning... the survivors in this area are panicking! This is our priority area for medvac" the medvac pilot commented, back to headquarters, while on final approach towards that place, and neighboring Vexor also seeing generators explode.

 

[Elani Zambrano]

Darkness encircled her. The shadows were at her command. She was at peace. But, far essences of the Light threatened to break that peace. Wanted to warm the poor girl with it's loving embrace.

Elani would not let it take her. Nothing would pull her from the enclave she carved for herself. Her only option was to destroy that which wanted to destroy her. Searching for her prey, Elani moved through the darkest of corners, wading through the city in search of blood she can spill. Her katana rested within it's sheathe and her lightsaber was strapped to her lower back. Elani was never unprepared for a hunt.

As she moved through the city, civilians left and right were cut down by the young Zambrano. Her blade tasted the blood of the innocent.

She was unstoppable.

Something soon caught her eye. The glimpse of one who would dare deny the Empire it's glory.

One who would try to pull her away from the darkness.

She would not let them.

"Prey.."

Elani moved in the shadows, unseen by the untrained eye as she moved toward the man.

[member="Seth Brackson"]

 

[Kaine O'Doran]

[SIZE=13.5pt]Knight, Sith Warrior[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Location [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]- Burned Forest, Bombarded Surface, New Holstice[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Allies[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] - The Sith Empire[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Enemies[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] - [member=”Riamah”][/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Status [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]- Cautious[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Armor[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] - Terentaek & Armorweave Armor[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Equipment [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]- Crimson Lightsaber (1x) | Ballistic Knife (1x)[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____[/SIZE]

Fire. Brimstone. Ash. Death. Everything was burning. Fires raged and screams roared, biting at and destroying the once peaceful quietness of the forests of New Holstice. From where once nature sprung and grew in volumes of green, tranquil beauty, now there was ashen dirt and dead trees...mere husks of the tranquility and beauty of what was once there. Where once animals grazed green grasses and men, women, and children played, charred corpses hunched over, unidentifiable from being of man or beast, disfigured beyond knowledgeable belief as to identity, as to life, as to hopes, as to dreams. To an outsider, it was a strange seen to see such things. An outsider cared not for the needs of these unknown fellows, people who they had been told deserved it. The outsider cared not if they deserved it or if they did not deserve it, he did not, he did not care...they were dead now, their lives snuffed out. Such was the way of the Galaxy, such [SIZE=11pt]was[/SIZE] the way of life, such was the what of nature. The wonderful living and life of beings, so quickly can be extinguished as a burning ember, a flame to the testament of sins and troubles they caused. Their sins matter not in the end, for their only goal was survival. And that goal, that “Great Game,” as the male Gurlanin's parents had called life, was a game of life and death. One which some of those of New Holstice, had failed.

The male Gurlanin kneeled close to the ground, one knee folded under his body with the other outstretched at a right angle in front of him. The males predatory orange eyes looked outwards from his position, scanning the ever-expanding landscape of dead trees and soil. He knew something was here, he knew someone was here. He didn't need to use the force to track people. To use the force to do such menial and simplistic tasks was an insult to the God who had given such gifts to the people of the Galaxy. The force was not a weapon to fight and kill others with, the force was not an object for which to wound others, it was not a tool to wreak destruction and malice upon all beings. The force, in it of itself, was an instrument to create and build something new, something of [SIZE=11pt]holy[/SIZE] appendage to the glory of a limitless religious philosophy.

The Gurlanin's right hand reached down to the ground beneath him, outstretched appendages sifting through the fallen ash for a fleeting second. Dirty blackened ash gathered in the palm of the male's hand as he pulled it away from the ash and up to his nose and sniffed. They're close. Very close. They think the force can hide them, and yet, it cannot. It was never meant to do such things, which is why it didn't hide them from the scent of a hunter. From the scent...of a wolf. Kaine stood up from his kneeling position, his hand falling to his side, creating a waterfall of ash to pour forthwith from his now outstretched hand.

Kaine O'Doran, the exiled wolf of Qiilura was close to an outsider, an unknowing prey which soon would be snuffed out much like the once wonderful forests of this planet had been...with thunderous applause.

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

​Locale: Invasion Site - Landing nearby invading Sith gunships, 28Km out from Native Forces
​Immediate/Nearby Enemies: [member="Elani Zambrano"] | [member="Kei Amadis"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"] | [member="Michael Sardun"] | [member="Seth Brackson"]

​The Hel Shard climbed downward through the atmosphere of Holstice - carving through one of the Companions Drop pods as its mass hurdled down towards the fighting. Crashing through multiple buildings as its mass came to a halt, the Hel Shard settled in a cradle of corpses and a now flaming chassis of a destroyed heavy assault vehicle. It's massive form placing the deploying Bryn'adûl forces several meters above the ground.

​A small stream of steam escaped from either shield door that sat magnetically locked against the room within the Shard. Each individual shard shaped exit fell - collapsing on the ground beneath. As the synthetic air dissipated, the smell of scorched earth and blood reached Tathra. As if in motion with the beat of his heart, the warriors of the Chieftains Fist beat steel against chest, waiting for their Chieftains call.

​A call to glory.

​Torrents of blaster fire attacked the Hel Shard from all sides, some shots already entering the Shard interior. The Bryn'adûl forces within were not deterred, each salivated for blood more than the last.

​"[Draelvasier]: Forward warriors. And fear not pain nor death!"

​Tathra barked back at them, taking his Mace from the magnetic holster on his back; Tathra landed down, his ton weight crushing rubble and debris under his massive feet as the red plasma shards on the edge of his Mace came to life - his weapon hungered to crush bone.

Deployed: x11 Chieftains Fist
​Reserves: x4 Shamans | x4 Servitors | x1 Draeyde Swarm | x200 Drones | x6 Commanders |
​Gear: Vest | Gauntlets | Mace | Shield | Flail |

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Starchaser was the type of Jedi most didn’t support. He found his balance in the Force by striking at the dark side. If he could get their attention on him, then it wouldn’t be on someone else. The Jedi Master knew though, it wasn’t sustainable. He knew not to teach others what he was doing. It was the vein of the Sword of the Jedi. And he knew that it wasn’t for all. That was what removed him from the Lords of Light.

And he could feel one of that such group on the field.

Sardun.

A good man, once upon a time, falling in with the Lords, but one of the bastions who fought for the light, even if the methods were too intense for even him and the New Jedi Order.

“We’ve got others on the field, Lords of Light. Just be cautious.” He said to his group, and [member="Kahne Porte"]. He felt the dark side, but he felt the concern from that group. The Jedi made his way towards where he could feel the Force building.

[member="Michael Sardun"]
[member="Tathra Khaeus"]

 

[Grosck Bah'azet]

​Locale: Invasion Site - Landing nearby invading Sith gunships, 35Km out from Native Forces
​Immediate/Nearby Enemies: [member="Elani Zambrano"] | [member="Kei Amadis"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"] | [member="Michael Sardun"] | [member="Seth Brackson"]
Allies: [member="Tathra Khaeus"]

Grosck felt the Hel Shard shutter as it was expelled from the ship's drop bay. Grosck looked to his brothers and spoke as he fastened the safety harnesses that strapped them in and kept them upright.

"[Draelvasier] Today we let the inferior races know that not even their mightiest can stand to oppose us!" He barked in the harsh guttural consonants of his native tongue.

"[Draelvasier] For we are the hand that stills! The Hand that damns the weak!" Came a barking chorus of replies.

Grosck nodded. Already gunfire had begun to erupt around the shards as they prepared to enter the stratosphere. Grosck stared at the holoprojector which showed them their course as they plummeted ever closer to the field of battle. Laser rounds and flak cannons tore through the sky seeking targets that they could not destroy. For true, the Bryn'adûl were invincible.

"[Draelvasier] We are the honored night that snuffs out the flame of life!" Grosck barked and patiently awaited the chorus to continue.

"[Draelvasier] With lives taken we shall ascend to god hod, our path is clear the way is shown, death and victory are all but known!" Came the reply just as a explosive round rocked the Hel Shard. Despite the disturbance not a single voice faltered or wavered.

Grosck pod had been the first of four to launch, as a result his was the first to break the stratosphere. It began to glow red hot and the metal within grew warm to the touch. Grosck welcomed it, it was a familiar hell, filled with all his favorite demons. His men knew it too, and they relished in the thought of their near suicidal descent. It was a glorious day, that would see the death of hundreds if not thousands.

"[Draelvasier] And through our righteous slaughter, the bloodletting becomes deliverance" Grosck finished

"[Draelvasier] In our strength we find truth, we are delivered!"

Grosck listened as his entire company repeated the mantra. It was the sound of a warriors prayer, the sound that would spell death for their enemies. It was a cry for battle and war. The pods crashed into the earth, their needle nose points digging deep into the worlds flesh. Already las rounds had began to ping off the still superheated hull of the Hel shard. As the dust settled the ramp descended and the warriors strode for battle, death, and above all glory.

Deployed: 19 Brutes

Gear: Tathra's Fury I Armor

 

[Nida Perl]

A child who looked to be no older than the age of four had fisted his hands into her robes, refusing to move. Struck silent with fear, his face peeked out from behind the fabric, expression unreadable. It gave something for Nida to do rather than to stand there, absorbed in her own shock.

“Are you injured, little one?” Kneeling down she placed one hand atop his head while giving him a cursory check with the other. Satisfied that the boy was not gravely hurt and just scared, she tried to gently detach him from her clothes and urge him inside. “Go on now, it’s warm inside. There’s less noise.” Nida was careful to promise him that all would be safe and well—in fact, her stomach twisted with the harsh truth that she may very well be sending the child to meet his death by blaster fire or buried beneath the rubble. The worst case scenario was often the only scenario in her head.

A hospital employee, a volunteer, another Jedi—she didn’t know who it was, but someone had taken the child inside along with a few others. Now there was nothing left to do but face an enemy that was baring down on them. Among the soldiers and dark cloaks was a head of red hair, eyes drawn to the mane like a magnet. Normally this was symbolic of comfort—her mother had long crimson hair—but her stomach turned in immediately understanding that this was not right. The hair belonged to one of those butchers.

Bravery was never her strong suit. Patience and kindness were. So were overthinking and being stepped on. Nida never had to defend herself; she had a family who would leap to her protection before she even knew she was in danger. Deep down, Nida wanted to be strong. She wanted to be able to protect not only herself, but those she loved.

But she was weak.

The hilt of the lightsaber had an odd weight to it in her hand, something she’d never noticed during training. Almost instantly, her hand clammed up and she had to re-establish her grip. A shaky thumb brushed against the ignition, and a blue blade thrummed to life.

She had no business being here, yet here she was.

[member="Lark"]

 

[Lark]

This is normal.

All his life Lark had bore witness to the true horrors that humanity was capable of. He had seen kind, charitable people become little more than dregs, all while monsters and wicked beings prospered. Death was a constant companion of his, so as he watched his allies and enemies fall around him he couldn't even muster a twinge of sympathy. Death was a natural process. Why should he grieve over a few corpses he hardly knew?

But then Lark's disposition switched, and he briefly understood true grief. He hated his mother for abandoning him and his brother, and he wished to understand why his brother left in the way he did. A piece of Lark's childhood still dwelled within him, soon it would wither away. There were only a handful of people in the galaxy Lark cared for, and even then he only cherished them a tiny bit. Lark didn't understand how these conflicting personas could exist within him. One moment he was a blank slate, able to adapt into whatever personality he needed to be. Then he was the monster that burned his home down and convinced his mother to commit suicide. An hour later he was a child who missed his siblings and wanted things to return to the way they were.

Enough, he thought, banishing those pointless thoughts from his mind. Lark swung his enchanted sword, cleaving through a pair of Jedi doctors, not even recognizing that they had been slain. He stepped over the patient they had been working on, a civilian who had been caught in the crossfire. She was in shock, her life would end in less than a minute. All of the hysteria and madness around him went unnoticed. He didn't feel anger or hatred towards the Jedi, nor did he feel sympathy. Lark just felt nothing. Normally he could control what kind of personality he adopted. Why did he feel so conflicted now?

What is happening?

Lark looked up and nearly screamed.

In front of him was a girl, barely a teenager, almost a foot shorter than him. She was clearly terrified, yet there she stood, saber in hand, facing him down. It wasn't her resilience in the face of decimation that made Lark hesitate. He was stronger than her, had more experience than her. It was something more personal, something that horrified Lark so much more.

When he looked at this child, he only saw his sister, who was taken from him at such a young age. She had been kidnapped by slavers as an infant, a sort of wicked punishment for something their father had done. She was one of the only ties Lark still had to his childhood, and he once vowed that he'd track his sister down and end her. Snuff out that child that still lurked within him, let the inner monster within him grow. But as he looked at the girl in front of him, something within him shifted. Lark only saw his sister, someone he once loved, someone he once protected. Someone innocent. Lark felt something at that moment, something he hadn't felt since he was a toddler.

Compassion.

Lark took a step back, shocked at the sudden sensation. What is this? He was confused, for the first time in forever. He didn't feel regret for anything he had done, but for a brief moment, no more than a second, he experienced inner turmoil. What made me like this?

A moment later, the feeling was gone. Entropy replaced empathy, emptiness returned. Lark collected himself, he no longer saw his sister in front of him. He only saw a girl, one who was in way over her head. One whose death would be forgotten as soon as it occurred. Something deep within him tried to whisper an apology, but it was engulfed by the monster within him. In his right hand Lark held his enchanted sword, his left was pointed towards the violet-haired child. Sparks began to dance in his palm, and a moment later he unleashed a burst of lightning towards her. There was still a bit of virtue somewhere in Lark.

Perhaps killing her would change that.

[member="Nida Perl"]

 

[WelshPsych]

[member="Kahlil Zambrano"]

Something triggered his danger senses in the Force however, Yuroic couldn't see what was the danger only knew that the Sith had said something. He was struck by an invisible object. Grunting, he could tell that the impact had broken a rib but he was able to carry on with it. He inhaled deeply and healed the rib swiftly. This did mean that the Sith was able to jump back and put distance between them. Igniting his second Lightsaber, Yuroic stood to his full height and stared down the Sith with intensity. Inhaling slowly and deeply, rolling his shoulders as he prepared himself, he needed to shorten the distance.

Pouring the Force into his muscles, Yuroic uses Force Speed to dart forward. Darting around to become more difficult to hit. Slicing his Lightsabers across the Sith's chest. Twirling his blades in aggressive strikes in the style of Djem So with more acrobatic form of Ataru to make it harder to know where he was going to hit next. His blades aimed at the Sith's legs to make it harder to flee and put the distance between them.

 

[Eye of Solomon]

Laser fire danced and beings died.

Novae moved through the carnage as if oblivious to the violence surrounding him, not paying much attention to the suffering of others beneath his heel. Occasionally he would have to dispatch an overzealous enemy, someone who dared to think they were worthy enough to grasp the hem of his robe as he passed. Their efforts were met with only derision, heads cleaved cleanly from their neck with an elegant roll of his wrist. It wasn't them he was transfixed on, they weren't even worthy to garner his attention if but for the briefest flashes of annoyance.

It was the Jedi he was after, especially those brutes that landed with such vigor and purpose.

He came upon them like a shadow, his movements fluid and graceful as he sped through the rubble and ruin. Novae possessed a fencer's form, every twitch of his muscles refined and honed with deadly speed and precision. He wasted no time on artful flourishes, only expending energy to deliver the absolute minimum required of him. He did not overextend or give in to his rage, he kept it subdued until he needed it to fuel his power. Like a churning oceanic storm viewed from beneath the waves.

Jumping through the air, he pivoted his core and swung down only once to cut a smoldering canyon clean through one of the enemy soldier's heads, slicing deep into cranium and gray matter. He landed deftly on both feet, one hand held behind his back while the other was angled towards a marvelous specimen of Jedi in glittering gold armor.

How very maladroit.

"I assume you command these brigands, Master Jedi? Care for a duel?"

[member="Michael Sardun"]​

 

[Kahlil Noble]

There was no part of the young Sith that was going to let [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] heal himself. While the Jedi set about healing the broken rib, Kahlil took the chance to leap back, but he didn't stop his assault. Again the red gem lit up bright, this time far brighter than before. Seven small motes of darkness formed around the young man, hovering. The last of the charges within the weapon were spent.

"Su̢̞̱̬̜̥t͏̪̯t̫̣̰͖a̪̬͎̯͔͇͇ ̯̻̠C̥̼̪̟̫h̡͉̝̲̥ͅẁ̥̹̤͚̗̮í͎t̖͖u̥͝s͓̜̗͙̘̥͔k̻̣͈͉ak͏͔̼."

The six sphere's all then flew in unison, chasing down the Jedi. One would go to impact beneath his feet to force him back while the others continued their chase, honing in on him as Dubiety kept a hand raised as if to guide them.

 

[Riamah]

As Ra had grown up, she had seen sights and sounds such as what was going on around her. In some ways, she could still be rather heartless. She was not an empathic person and did not feel any sympathy for the adults here. The children got some glances, but that was all. When this was over, they could be taken care of.

Casualties happened in the great war and that is what this was. On a far smaller scale, this was just one part of the war that would never end between the light and dark.

Sitting on the ground, a stray and random thought crossed her mind. What would Josh think of her right now? Not giving any thought to those wounded and dying. Not offering to help or try to heal them. His influence on her had started to change her and while she waited for somebody to answer her call, she wondered if it was for the better or not.

They had talked about her past to a great extent and he knew more about her than pretty much anybody else. How she had been raised and then forced into the Sith Empire. The message of, "join or die", had been given to her and she joined them. Never having made a proper sith, Ra had never fit in with them well.

Eventually, they had pretty much destroyed the foundation of her life. Now her greatest dream and desire was to see that empire in flames like they had left her life. There were perks for dating the Master of the Order within the Silvers. A small smile came to her face as she sat on the ground at the thought of Josh.

Ra had dropped the mask she wore on herself. The former sith was now an open target for anybody to approach. Friend or foe and the way things were looking...it was going to be a foe. Her fingers twitched slightly, but not enough to call her shoto lightsabers into her hands. They itched to get the chance to shed Sith blood again and that time was soon coming.

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]

 

[Arahael]

It was a normal day on New Holstice, and the sky was raining fire. Max stepped out of the transport onto scorched ground, ashes and rubble crunching beneath his feet. The sights and burning smells made him aware of how the attack was proceeding "Move ahead. Ensure that nothing was missed, and we will continue further in."

An officer responded dutifully "Yes, my Lord. I will keep you informed of the situation." This was swiftly followed by a series of more orders over the comms channel, and the sound of many boots rushing forward through the city.

As Max found himself around the hospital, he looked over the ground for signs of life. Only the bodies of the fallen and an unusual silence presented themselves. Clearly he would need to move elsewhere.

The sounds of blaster fire and other weapons clashing picked up his interest. But... He thought he could also hear the distinct sound of a lightsaber impacting.

 

[Nida Perl]

Ever since she donned the robe—a plain, almost itchy outfit—Nida had been entertaining the idea of battle. ‘Entertaining’ wasn’t exactly the right word. The fear of a fight had kept her up at night along with all of the other anxieties the girl had. And there were many of them.

“I know that you want to train with the Jedi to advance your healing abilities.” She’d been curled up on the couch with her mother, the woman stroking her hair softly as she admitted her concerns. “It is not an easy life, Nida. It will put a target on your back for thete”

It had been only months since she’d left Zeltros, wanting to prove to her family, more so herself, that she could learn and grow and become strong all on her own. But now more than ever, faced with the overwhelming possibility of death, she wished for her family to come here and defend her once more. For her sister Yula to throw herself between Nida and whatever threatened her, as she so often did. For her mother, Joza, experienced in the ways of battle to handle this opponent with ease and grace.

Nida dropped her weapon. The saber cut a brief, shallow path in the ground below before the hilt clattered to the ground, deactivating the plasma blade.

Not a moment later did she throw her hands in front of her, palms out and head bowed as if she were cowering in reverence towards the red-haired man. She pushed, pushed as hard as she could, as hard as she'd been taught. The lightning struck her barrier, cracks spiraling through the thin layer of protection before it shattered completely. The Force having borne the brunt of the assault, Nida had escaped being electrocuted to a crisp.

As soon as the barrier went down, Nida was thrown back several feet and fell to the ground like a sack of pink potatoes. She yelped as the sparks danced sharply along her skin, causing her muscles to seize briefly with the worst stinging sensation. She lay sprawled on the ground, dazed, terrified and full of nervous adrenaline. Her hand shook, stretched out to the side in the dirt beside her as she tried to find her bearings. A few feet away, the saber hilt twitched.

"Wh-what do you want-!" She cried out, edging on the point of tears.

[member="Lark"]

 

[Kaine O'Doran]

[SIZE=13.5pt]Knight, Sith Warrior[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Location [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]- Burned Forest, Bombarded Surface, New Holstice[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Allies[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] - The Sith Empire[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Enemies[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] - [member=”Riamah”][/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt]Status [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]- Cautious[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Armor[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt] - Terentaek & Armorweave Armor[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]Equipment [/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]- Crimson Lightsaber (1x) | Ballistic Knife (1x)[/SIZE]
[SIZE=9pt]_____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____ _____[/SIZE]

The male Gurlanin found it strange and wrong to see everything was fire, to see that everything was ash...to see that, everything, was dead. It was a stark contrast to the Gurlanin's home of Qiilura now, whereas hours earlier, these very forests that he was walking through now, would have been almost keyed into an exact likeness of the forests of his homeworld. His orange eyes watched over the burning heaps of trees, a sadness clawing at his soul. He didn't care much for the people of this Galaxy, and of this world. Not out of any ill intention. He cared not for them because he had been subjected to the worst of them thus far in his time when out in the greater galaxy, the bigotry, the xenophobia, the hatred for aliens. That wasn't the only reason he cared not for the people of the Galaxy, the other reason, was one of distance, and one of life. It was like how his parents had taught him about how fleeting life was, how easy it was to die and thus, be forgotten. Kaine wasn't one who was intending to die any time soon. He wouldn't die. He needed to survive and get revenge...revenge on those clan elders who had banished him. They had exiled him without any proper claim...all because he had been there at the wrong time and all the elders wanted, of course, was to feel powerful once more in their old age when their bones ached.

Despite his knowledge that a lightsider was close to his person, O'Doran opted not to draw his lightsaber. He disliked using the weapons, they had no significant or measurable weight behind them when swung, they were too light for the male Gurlanin. In time, he may have learned to utilize such plasma weapons effectively though, he doubted that it would be such a possibility. He felt too...slow when using a lightsword. To others, it would seem to be an ironic development, given the fact that the hilt's of lightsabers were lightweight and didn't carry with them lots of weight. For the male Gurlanin, however, they made him swing too slowly. His attacks normally full of muscle and weight behind them, throwing his weight and power into the weapon to act as a conduit, as an extension of his physical body. With lightsword's however, he couldn't throw behind enough power with them. There wasn't the same impact or thrust he felt when using something heavier, he felt clunky, inopportune, weak when using such weapons.

The male Gurlanin sensed that this lightsider, whoever it is that they might be, was close. He stopped himself in his tracks, his nostrils breathing in the smell of burned wood and fallen ash. He didn't hesitate as his sharp, carnivore-esque teeth clenched together in a primal growl, morphing his body into something else entirely. It was a brutal process as it always was to transform between his forms, though the Gurlanin had learned how to contain the pain that came with the transformation from his years as a hunter for his pack, a people he once called family who had been misled by foolish elders. After a minute, in the place of the humanoid form of Kaine now stood a large, black wolf. It took a few timid steps at first, it's clawed paws pressing into the ashen ground with three-hundred pounds behind it. It always took Kaine awhile to get used to his wolf form right after changing forms and vice-versa. The large black wolf sniffed the ashen air, picking up the scent of the nearby lightsider, before picking up at a fast pace towards this individual. It didn't take long for it to get within reach of the lightsider and once it had done so, it jumped forwards toward's the individual, clawed paws outstretched with a maw full of carnivorous teeth opened.

 

[Lark]

For a few moments the child was able to hold back the blast, creating a protective barrier between herself and the lightning. She was strong, perhaps stronger than she knew. The shield shattered, however, sending her flying back a few meters onto the cold, unforgiving ground. She laid there, and Lark temporarily believed that he had killed the girl. But she regained a modicum of composure.

But as the pink-skinned Jedi feebly seized on the ground, another memory forced its way into Lark's mind like a parasite. He remembered pushing his sister on a stroller through the park, humming some sweet folk song his father taught him. She giggled as he pushed her on the swingset, as he drew some fantastical creature on a spare napkin. He would always draw something, and let her color it in. She always used to much blue. Their brother would watch, always reserved and distant, but with kind eyes and a hidden smile. It had been a simple life. Simple, but peaceful.

Then, everything changed. It all happened so quickly.

Lark saw his sister dying on the ground, twitching as sparks wracked her body. The battle around them seemed to fade, the blaster fire and screams of the dying became an inaudible murmur. "What do I want?" He quietly repeated, slowly walking towards her. "It depends. Sometimes I want to know what its like to feel true peace, true serenity. Sometimes I want to uncover secrets long since forgotten. I want to advance in the ranks of the Sith Empire. I want to bring the galaxy to ruin, to be the last one standing among the rubble of civilization. I want to be with my brother and sister again. There are so many things I want, yet they change so frequently." Lark's tone was polite, but there was a hint of somberness beneath them.

"But what about you?" he continued. "You're a healer, aren't you? Do you truly believe that you can save everyone?" Lark looked at the war zone around him, the hospital was being ravaged and laid to waste. Men and women from both sides of the conflict perished, panic and terror filled the minds of everyone. Screams rang out like an orchestra. "Do you sense it? The despair? This is humanity's true essence. Fear, uncertainty, dread. There's no escaping it."

It's all just pain.

Lark slowly raised his empty hand, sparks danced along his fingertips once again. But they were not pointed at the Jedi child. Instead they were directed towards the woman that the two doctors Lark killed had been working on. Killing had become routine for him, it meant nothing.

She always used to much blue.

Such an insignificant memory. But it caused a crack in his current persona, a moment of hesitation. As he unleashed the bolt of lightning towards the woman, a single tear trailed down his face.

[member="Nida Perl"]