Junction The Great Battle of Coruscant | Second Great Hyperspace War | Junction of GA-Selvaris, NIO-Raydonia, BotM-Shihon, SJC-Myrkr, AC-Ventooine

[Derix Tirall]

P O W E R
HIGH REGENT OF THE FINAL DAWN
COURSCA SECTOR | COURSCANT | SENATE DISTRICT | SENATE BUILDING
​

To be the Head of State of a military junta, one had to be flexible, who knew what could be thrown your way. Just recently the Overseer of O'Reen, Derix's principal Deputy Advisor had 'gone to the light'- or was it the Dark? It didn't matter. For all his pips and prims however, the High Regent was more than willing to venture into an undisclosed tunnel if it meant accomplishing his goals. He was just a man. He could die, as long as it didn't impede the mission of the True Order.

"Section Clear- Advance" The solders were far ahead of their lord, leading the way even as the menacing Sovereign Protectors stayed within the confines of his glowering presence. There were six of them, a sizable detachment of his personal guard, each carrying their signature weapon. The power of the Dark Side reverberated around them, though not as powerful as a Sith Apprentice, they were still mighty warriors. Something in his gut knew they would necessary in the fight to come.

"Eyes up!" Light bounced off the crimson armor of the Sergeant. presumably a native born O'Reenian though there was no way to be sure. Perhaps he was a clone. The man was the only solider allowed to remove his helmet in the presence of the High Regent, his face scarred from operations long since past, and his hair cut low. Aside from the minor discrepancies, he was the very embodiment of order, perfect in nearly every way.

The Sovereign Protectors snapped to attention immediately, forcibly moving back the normal guard, and quickly moving forth to scan the area. Derix could not yet see the source of the light, but it was close. "Heat signatures close. Prepare to engage the enemy"

"Wait" It was the first word the High Regent spoke since entering the tunnel, and yet it carried weight. Power, as Lord Letifer would call it. "Identify yourselves" So benign and bland, and yet he still called out. It wasn't even demanding, much less fit for a person of his stature.

"Well?"

Target: Aerarii Tithe | Nearby Allies: Romund Sro ​

 

[Dakrul]

Location: Above the New Jedi Temple
Equipment: Staff of Dakrul, Cursed Gen'Dai Flesh Armour, Dread Blade, Conduit shackle receiver
Allies: Brotherhood of the Maw - Tegan Starfall
Enemies: Ingrid L'lerim Elpsis Kerrigan

In death, the truth would be delivered to all of them. No matter who you were, what you believed in life, what status you held or how you chose to spend your days. The gates of Nether stooped open, welcoming into its grasp, unrelenting in its efforts to tearing you apart. Sand to dust, dust to life. An enlightening angle from which to witness the powers of reality. Dakrul was a frequent visitor. A fiendish creature blessed by the devils to peek into this realm of the dead. To reach out with ghastly talons, to pluck at the fading remains inside and pull them back into the plane of mortals.

Before all this, he too had been one such waning creature. Events that prevailed from what now seemed a lifetime ago. He too had staggered through the hellfire and stood in its vast landscapes. The insectoid zealot understood these were true memories but often it didn’t seem like they belonged to him at all. It was difficult to differentiate between those recollections inserted and those expirienced. The heathen priests and taskmasters of the Gehinnom had been true maestros of their craft.

Either way, it felt familiar being here in the flesh, something from all these years later did seem to awaken inside the undead Cha’ta’ri. Was this even possible? The hulking necromancer couldn't comprehend.

No matter, he was here for her. The goddess of destruction was out here somewhere, strolling through this sandstorm by her lonesome. Dakruls would see to it she be returned to where she was needed, the Avatars requested her presence.

He had noticed her disappearance on Rhand, it was a strange ritual she had conducted, incarnations the darksider knew little about. The sorcerers explained to him post-mortem that she had fused her living soul to the very soil of the celestial body. Dakrul had speculated back when he first stood in the awestriking tomb of Csilla, a planetoid soul? Could it be true? Back then her presence had simply vanished. All of a sudden it seemed the very same sorcerers must have succeeded in severing whatever bonds kept her, for Dakrul could once again sense the existence of Tegan Starfall.

Knowing she was here was enough for him to reach out. He hated to travel in real space, here different laws applied. The necromancer wouldn't stalk further into the storm to hopefully stumble upon her instead the fiend willed himself to her. He knew that he would stand beside her, he simply needed to convince the Nether of it.

Moments later the hulking behemoth of flesh and steel would fade into existence next to Tegan.

"Siiiiiisteeeeerr" the three-meter Cha’ta’ri whispered into her mind.

“The Avatar of War, smiles upon your benevolent conquest, and the Avatar of Death welcomes you to his domain, but the Avatar of Rebirth demands your presence”

The Mawite scriptures had thought him so much. They too spread the truth, but unlike death, you had to confront them before your passing. For they would prepare for what came after. He would have wished to remain, to seek out the depths of Chaos, to witness the vile monstrosities that dwelled in those pits below but now that his target was located it was best they leave.

A torrent of azure flames exploded and poured forth into the ritual chambers. Their return was heralded by fire. Within moments all life inside whipped out, obliterated, the toll for passage. His own kin charred to dust along with slaves and workers. Only Tegan and Dakrul would remain. Two silhouettes in the dark standing upright at the center of the ceremonial vault. A shaking erupted, the large vessel ravaged by the explosion at its rear. While remaining personal abroad the sacrilegious craft would attempt to regain control the success of the Starfalls resurrection was confirmed and word would go out to the Dark Master. Darth Solipsis would know of her revival.

Heathen Priests of varying shapes and sizes having awaited this moment would flood into the alcove. Their guest would be catered to, dressed, supported with incantations and spells to help soothe her transition, bind the flows of her spirit.

Elpsis Kerrigan would bear witness to an eerily empty ship. Only the cockpit and a small support crew, while most of the inhabitants had by now reached Tegan as her entourage. An overwhelming sickly aura forming, a festering sensation, a low rumbling buzzing in the air.

Now they could commence their attack on the light-bearers below. With her at their side chaos would ensue.

 

[Darth Tennacus]

​

Objective: Dispose the enemy forces
Allies: New Sith Order, Brotherhood of the Maw
Nearby Allies: Darth Senthral
Engaging: Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Geiseric
​

Tennacus knew they had been drawn there for a reason, even if the Sith did not fully align himself with the purpose. But to argue with the calling of the Force was inevitable; its intangible strings forever plucked at the strings of fate; everyone and everything served to its bidding. Much like the troopers of the Maw, who had fired haphazardly upon an enemy they did not fully understand. Much like his Apprentice, who seemed to revel in their massacre, engaging upon a foe without hesitance or fear.

From within the crowd, the Sith Lord observed quietly, analysing the enemies set before them. There was a sudden strangeness in the tides of the Force, brought on by a realisation that the conjurer of forked lightning was not entirely associable to the likes of the other Jedi. Luminous streaks of electricity whipped their way through the firing crowds, burning the soldiers alive until they perished beneath the overwhelming charges. Tennacus prevented such an attack befalling him through the means of a Force shield, lasting only for a fleeting moment until the crowds around them were disposed of. One by one they all dropped accordingly across the ground, revealing the angelic-like figure as she unfolded before him amidst her victory.

But for such a victorious display of luminosity, the Sith Lord did not at all appear intrigued.

Perhaps it was merely the mask obscuring his expression: the metallic plate cupped prominently over his mouth, each breath producing a rasp as it escaped the narrow vents. Perhaps it were his eyes, seemingly dull, relaxed - devoid of opinion. He had yet to draw the lightsaber from within his grey coat, unless it was burrowed up into his sleeve. Either way, his hands were currently empty. Most of his intent moved towards discovering what the woman before him might be, reaching out to the Force to gain an understanding of her exuded traits. She was neither here nor there in her followings, but still she protected this place as if it held some value to her. . . or the Jedi.

Tennacus was about to reply to her before his commlink sounded in his ear. Casually reaching his hand up to attune the sudden signal prompting notification on further actions, he realised that the Force had served to his favour after all.

Within his ear, the droid, 77-B, announced itself. "The signal has been received, my Lord. Is it time?"

In a short answer, Tennacus only answered, "It's time." before his fingers pulled the ear piece from his head, pushing it deep into his pocket. Now the Force had guided him to close one matter, he could return his attention to the moment at hand - specifically the woman who so generously offered him a solution to maintaining his survival. He stared at her with indifference.

"I appreciate your merciful offer," Tennacus answered, his words monotonously passing through the respirator. "mostly because it tells me what kind of creature you are. In any case, I will have to decline. As much as we both wish to survive this ordeal, only one of us is allowed to walk away from here alive." The Sith slowly reached into his jacket, retrieving the metallic, black hilt of his lightsaber in his right hand. "A great cleansing is unfolding; the ascension of the Sith is dawning absolute. If you are not among us in this purge, then you are blatantly against us." The crimson blade of his lightsaber came alive in a subtle flick of his wrist, splitting its luminosity through the air. In a calm motion, he pointed the tip of the ignited weapon towards her.

"I will leave it up to you which other poor decision you make first."

​

Objective: Release the Whispering Swarm
Allies: New Sith Order
Enemies: Jedi
Engaging: Open


77-B undraped the Wandering Pilgrim from invisibility, forcing it to appear beneath the clouds massed over the Jedi Temple. Lord Tennacus had made the signal clear, authorising the droid to pursue the objective laid out for it. Even for a droid, it knew not to dare move itself within the cargo bay. While it was not fearing in its design, it was undoubtedly cautious in preserving its own integrity, knowing full well the consequences of daring to approach the cargo bay without either Sith alongside it. The menacing, deafening screams and rattling of crates was great enough a warning, knowing full well such restraints were not designed to provide prolonged sustainability. . . especially more so given the towering, cramped beast that had been forced into the back of the cargo bay, bound only by shackles that would surely not hold.

The cargo bay door opened, throwing a great gush of wind down the length of the cargo bay, stirring anxiety and impatience to those cramped within their large crates. Under Tennacus' order, 77-B had been instructed to deploy them all, and so it would do so without hesitance. The massacre that was to come would be catastrophic, only it would not be towards the Sith. Those ferocious beasts had been subjugated to the Dark Side: Sithspawn in their own right, infused with such alchemic sorcery that they ultimately served the dark to all limits and purposes.

The motor cranked its gears, rolling the runner across the cargo bay floor to drag each of the crates out towards the rear doors. One by one, they inevitably dropped out of the skies, descending rapidly towards the temple, their courses sporadically changed by the altitude's winds veering them in various directions. Ultimately, each of the twelve crates deployed crashed within the vicinity of the Jedi Temple: some bounced and hopped along the dome, while others crashed within the courtyards both inside and out.

A silence slowly moved upon them, with such cries and screeches perishing beneath the initial shock of impact. The seals hissed as each crate loosened its exterior frames, unfolding to slam against the ground, allowing the beasts to pour unto the temple.

Black forms escaped the confines of the crates with ease, sounding themselves in a wave of echoed cries that carried through the skies around the temple, signalling them all of their individual whereabouts. While they may have landed few and far between, their goal and determination to execute it remained absolute, taking it upon themselves to make their way into the temple through whatever means possible. . . and slaughter whatever creature was not associable to their understanding.

 

[Waymar Dathrohan]

P A L A D I N
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER
Ozma Olumivius

DECOY
​

That song of binary horror rung out and sheered the ear drums of the Knight Paladin in the chaos of battle that immediately grasped the Maw acolytes and New Imperial Troopers. Even as they let loose a clatter of crimson particle beams in the direction of cybernetic marauders before heavy metal met duraplast. It was out of the frying pan and into the axe head. Even if the 501st had a tenacity and tendency to scrap a great deal harder than other Stormtrooper units, they were well out of their element in this melee. Blaster rifles were abandoned to the slings over their chests as they reached for vibro knifes and vibro-arbir axes to meet them head on.

All the while, Ozma and his power-axe surged in the direction of the Knight Paladin. The head of the pride charging his countpart with a brutalist, mechanical efficiency. Waymar met the first lunge of the axe with a raise of his argent blade, bringing his other hand to the hilt of the blade to leverage his strength into the clash only for a seperate claw armed with the blade of a fallen comrade clutched in its dreaded metallic claw. This was certainly a formidable foe and far from the traditional opponent Knight doctrine armed him to fight against- usually equipped to deal with waves of chaff and a direct counter to his form armed with a blade or two, be it unitary or seperated. And now- he danced with a metallic monstrosity.

He needed to break the clash, to further survey his opponent before seizing the initiative on his own means. As the blade swept down and toward his spine, Waymar stomped into the broken earth beneath to cash a vicious force wave in the direction of Ozma. Whether it truly pulsed the metal monster back or not, he planned a righteous reprisal, aligning his best attempt to hone in on that third arm with the Force in an effort to wrench it back toward Waymar in a path he could destine and control before swiping his argent blade toward the metal limb in the hopes of lopping it from the marauder's form with a vicious cut of superheated silver.

 

[Darth Solipsis]

​

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW



​

The Jedi pursued the Dark Lord of the Sith toward the Grand Concourse, jockeying between the massive pillars of scarlet hue that beautified the path forward alongside ever expansive regal runners, red carpet that led deeper within. He sought not escape but space, room to draw this conflict out into a favorable outcome. His haunting laughter echoed throughout the vast hall, his voice trickling back to his pursuers with the occasional distraction sent hurling towards them as loose objects and decor were seized up by his command.

"Oh no! Help me help me!"

His voice spat out into a mad fit of cackling laughter, a mocking gesture, and a grim reminder of how the Jedi had been played. The Elder narrowed in on the Senate Rotunda entryway, nearly stopping in his tracks momentarily as he felt the sudden presence of the unbending Iron Imperator. A foe who would see him brought low, one whom nearly accomplished such during the fierce duel against he, Bernard , and Kiara Ayres who fell by his hand. The Dark Lord scoffed with a slight grin, his sulfuric gaze shifted, falling back on the Jedi at his rear. He forced a twisted smile across his face and with that he resumed his leave.

Hiss-swoop, the doorway to the Senate Rotunda parted before the Sith Master and within seconds his robed visage disappeared into the chamber.

Taking possession of the nearest senate pod, the Sith'ari brushed along the surface of the controls with a smooth touch. His fingers were set to work, within seconds the pod disengaged from the dock and took flight into the center of the massive dome-like chamber. It would not be long before the Jedi would emerge from the distant corners of rotunda, his eyes scanned the room. It was not long before his terrible glare met upon the imposing form of one who awaited him, one who would join this fight alongside the Jedi.

"Fel."

The Dark Lord's face scrunched up in disgust at the word, he spat at the Imperator with venom that revealed his obviously sinister intent.

"It is only fitting you die here alongside the Jedi. You can share in their failure one last time."

His hand snapped forward as his lightsaber reignited in a crimson flash, his pod floated in motion with slow tranquil movement. His position shifted but his eyes were fixated, focused on the stationary.He felt a subtle shift in the empyrean, he knew not what it was but he it's presence was binding and immense. A dome of unfamiliar energy was cast all around them, like rats in a cage.

"At last, the time of victory is at hand. The time of revenge. The time of the Sith."

Saan'an Gaelor | Auteme | Romi Jade | Jacen Nimdok | Kirie | Aayla Shan | Metis Athena Elpis | Coren Starchaser | Rurik Fel

​

 

[Taiia Locke]

//: Allyson Locke //: Kyyrk //:

​

Taiia shook her head as she listened to the comm channel in her ear, part of her wanted to yell at Allyson another part wanted her to come back and yet another had to focus on the task ahead. With a resigned breath, the redhead looked at Kyyrk as he spoke to Allyson. She resolved the correct course of action, this was neither the time nor place for emotional outbursts. Turning back toward the temple she watched as Kyyrk launched himself through the glass.

She ignited her lightsabers, both blades bathing the nearby ground in a silvery light as she did. An emerald vapor enveloped her before she disappeared and within a moment the obsidian lord appeared next to Kyyrk inside the temple. There was a hum of plasma all around as they both faced off against several Sith. For Taiia though she felt the force pulling her the bond she shared with Allyson was calling them to one another. She coupled her lightsabers quickly into a saberstaff and glanced to Kyyrk. "She is nearby Kyyrk. You've got this?" it was more of a statement than a question but she wasn't about to leave Kyyrk without doing some damage.

Taiia rushed into a group of Sith, between her and her goal, what followed was a storm of saber movements as the obsidian lord waded into the formation. For each crimson blade that swung her away, it was rebuffed by a silver blade, before the other end swung around to end the life of the now exposed sith. Her intended goal was to make her the primary threat and then lead them away. It would seem to mostly work as she gathered the force into her offhand and slammed it into the ground knocking the few remaining back and she quickly exploited the opening dashing between them.

A few chased after Taiia but she utilized the force to move faster than they could, after making a few quick turns in the temple while homing in on Allyson she left them wandering empty halls and found herself in a seemingly empty corridor she felt her though, very close.

 

[Adhira Chandra]

The Storm Descends
The Corridors // The Executive Building // Coruscant
Chimera // Aerarii Tithe // Suri Vullen

Adhira pushed a button on her comm again, her husband's picture appeared and she could feel the vibrations as her own device tried to make contact with Aarav's. Two rings. Three. Four. Five. She canceled the call. Her dusky hand moved sharply upward, scrolling rapidly through a long list of names until she caught sight of the one she was looking for. Her finger jabbed the screen and a connection was established with the captain of the Senate Guard stationed across the plaza in the Senate Building. "Captain," she said into the viewport of the device as a gruff-looking older man in cerulean armor appeared on the screen, "has the Vice Chancellor been extracted?"

"I believe he is en route to the bunker, ma'am, I am coordinating the evacuation on the upper levels, but I assure you he is in good hands."

She had hoped that the Guard Captain would be the one escorting Aerarii, but the tone of the veteran soldier assured her that everything at the Senate Building appeared to be under control. The attack of the Maw was a surprise, to be certain, but they were still a band of ravenous marauders. How they managed to sneak past the fortified borders of the Alliance remained to be seen and made them a threat, to be certain. All the same, there was little doubt that their attack was likely rather uncoordinated and haphazard. The Home Fleet would be able to repel them -- if they arrived in time. Suddenly, the screen she was holding faltered and the image of the guard captain froze. "Captain?.... CAPTAIN!?" The screen went dark in her hand despite her protests.

"Something is interfering with planetary communication channels, Madam Chancellor."

"What do you-" her query was halted by the Senate Guard escorting her who stopped in his tracks and pressed his hand close to the device in his ear. Through the darkened eyes of the blue helmet, she could see the concern in the leader's eyes. Her expression contorted to match his concern. Then, Adhira heard blaster fire further down the corridor along with what was clearly a scuffle between... someone. Then, the leading guard turned his attention back to Chancellor with chilling speed. "All units," he said over the commlink in his ear, though he continued to stare the old Balmorran woman down, "converge on the Executive Building immediately. Archangel is in immediate danger. Potential Assassin in pursuit."

The guard pressed a button on his arm guard and suddenly the klaxon changed its tone. Adhira, suddenly filled with a sense of urgency, rushed forward, though now, there were two Senate Guards guiding her forward. Behind her, every 12 paces, a thick blaster door dropped down with a commanding thud, sealing the corridor behind her as the entourage wound its way deeper into the facility. "Assassin?"

"We need to get you to safety ma'am."

Somehow, the words of the guard did not comfort her at all as he grasped her firmly at the elbow to hurry her along down the corridor. Adhira noticed that after a time, part of her escort dropped away and stood ready in the corridor to face whatever or whoever was in pursuit. ​

 

[Audren Sykes]

This group wasn't shy about using their weapons either. Unfortunately for Audren, this transparisteel hadn't been designed for combat but rather for simple safety, and as a result was quickly blackening and melting. He still used it to the fullest however, slipping from one side to the other, crouching or standing as it covered most of his body. The whole while, his blaster carbine was spitting bursts of red bolts and dropping the charging horde. More than a dozen had been stopped - killed or disabled - by the time the power pack ran out. With several dozen more coming he almost wished he'd brought a heavy repeater instead, but fully accepted that it wouldn't have made it through any sort of customs stop. He dropped the now-useless gun, turned, and gave a force-enhanced back kick to the transparisteel. This shattered it and drove him towards the Temple in a flying dive. As he dove though, his hand extended out behind him as he used the Force to hurl the shards of transparisteel into the attackers. Some glowed where blaster bolts had hit, others were just jagged. All of them ripped into the enemy and dropped a half-dozen more.

Rather than landing flat and having to scramble up from a prone position, the Jedi tucked into a shoulder roll and was on his feet in a near-instant. His left foot planted and he leaped up and back several meters, landing gracefully in the midst of the assaulter team. Melee distance. Both daggers swept from their sheathes and became blurs of motion. The unpowered blades skittered over some of the armor plating, not fazing him in the slightest, and mostly sliced through cloth and flesh effortlessly. Several dozen attackers lay dead around him by the time he stopped: some killed by the transparisteel attacks, others by blaster bolts, others by Force-imbued blades. The formerly-pristine walkway was now rather messy; this was such a small mess compared to what was probably resulting from the explosions he felt elsewhere near the Temple though.

The Sephi turned back towards the Jedi Temple and found that his efforts - while maybe not in vain - hadn't been quite the stopper he'd intended for this particular direction. Some hotshot had flown a van-like airspeeder up and landed on the walkway...between Audren and the Temple. Cheeky. Soldiers had clambered out and were headed for this entrance. And these were actual soldiers too, not the rabble that he'd faced initially. Not only that, they were supported by three dark-cloaked figures. One of them looked at the mess of rabble and the Jedi walking towards them for a second before turning back to the Temple. The two others ignited red lightsaber blades and started moving to intercept their foe.

Confidence and eagerness radiated off the two despite their hoods remaining raised. Rookies, apprentices maybe. Not a fair fight by any means. One part of him stated simply that war wasn't fair, but the other part understood that he needed to give them an option.

"You don't have to do this, you can just walk away."

The tone of voice was matter of fact and contained not an ounce of fear. One of the two faltered while the other simply seemed to be angered at the words and rushed forward to strike a killing blow. He should have paid more attention to his surroundings though: with a flick of one dagger and a mental effort, a blast of Force power hurled the woman to one side of the walkway. There was no safety transparisteel there, just a low railing, so when she impacted that she flipped over and fell screaming into the abyss that was Coruscant. That shook the other apprentice from his reverie and he likewise began moving forward. He shuffled forward in anticipation of the same sort of attack, and when entering range gave a one-handed decapitation swing. That was met with one of the daggers, with just enough give to stop it cold rather than bouncing it back. Audren stepped into the opening and spun, using the other dagger to neatly - or not so neatly - separate hand and hilt from wrist. The continuation of that spin found the blocking dagger, now held in a reverse grip, plunged into the man's chest and through his heart. It was withdrawn in less than a second and the Jedi continued walking forward as the apprentice slowly collapsed to his knees, then fell dead.

The deaths - those of the rabble and of the apprentices both - were regrettable. They had made their choices though, and he his. Before him, the other Sith had obviously heard the scream and felt the deaths. He turned to face the elfin Jedi and lowered his owl to reveal the prominent horns of a Devaronian. The horns and sulfuric eyes of a true Sith were a disconcerting combination that the other had obviously used to his advantage before, since he paused for just a breath when he saw that the Jedi didn't. He resumed his approach easily however.

"You will die today warrior. Know that you face Crun T'vork and despair."

"Who?"

The single-word response hadn't really been intended as an insult. The mottling skin and sense of pure rage evidenced that it had been taken as such however, and the Devaronian lit a saber staff as he moved to attack with a flurry of blows. Each was blocked by the daggers, though they came closer than he would have liked. The difference in reach made it so Audren had trouble getting return strikes in though. Over the next thirty or so seconds both sides scored superficial hits against each other, but it was a risky thrown dagger that turned the tide of the fight. It missed its target of the throat but put a deep slice into one of the Devaronian's horns as he ducked. The carmine being felt the horn in shock with one hand.

"You screwed up my horn!"

"Here's a replacement."

The Sephi had closed the distance in that brief instant. The dagger he still held was shoved up under the chin, pinning the other man's tongue to the top of his mouth, then piercing brain and finally the top of the skull. It was withdrawn in much the same way and wiped clean on the Devaronian's robes, followed moments later by the second dagger. Both were then sheathed as Audren resumed his approach to the Temple and the soldiers placing breaching charges.


Note: supremely slow poster, not going to be able to PVP. PM to discuss anything.

Spoiler: Equipment

Armor
Lightsaber
Carbine
Sidearm
Daggers
throwing knives

 

[Ezra Dune]

☠
Halketh
F O U R _ O F _ S W O R D S
▶
Armor [Classified + Tsunagu] + Weapons [Pistol+ Rifle]​

Doom surrounded him like the familiar blanket he’d just unravel himself from. Gods how he hoped to bypass the hell that seemed to echo with every step he took throughout the solar system. Again? His life was this never-ending cycle of war, destruction, and death. Was he an omen or just simply a man caught in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Ezra pinched his brow, the trickle of force energy was just that, a steady thump against his skin that didn’t rattle his focus nor shake his resolve. “I’m sorry…” he uttered to the attendant whose face looked as if they had seen death in the flesh over the array of bodies lay to waste before the shop windows. The roar of bombs reverberated against the walls, forcing the glass to groan and taunt them with shattering. He pushed aside the long fabric of his robes, unhooking the modified blaster from its holding, and held sternly against his chest. He didn’t leave home without it now, its frame seemed to reek of paranoia and ill intent ushered forth by the closeness he allowed himself to feel with the lord of ice.

"That heart of yours... Mm... It's my favorite thing about you."​

He saw the maw bannermen swarming through the streets and with it came the tender memory of his voice that seemed to snap his focus from the attendant. “Halketh…” He whispered, under his breath, sucking dry air through the muzzle of his hood to stop his lungs from collapsing in their modified cage. That rescue mission to rid him from Darth Solipsis 's grasp would still be ingrained in his memory eternally. Of all the men and women he lost that day, only to come home with one...and even then, that rescue mission meant nothing for he was too late to stop the spread of hatred to embed itself within the delicate and misunderstood mind.

“Does everyone get to see it, or am I special?"​

Ezra was not privy to this…this sweeping descend to the madness that had taken place before his eye but chose to bury his skull beneath the silk sheets of their bed. His focus was on the conversations that surrounded them...so innocent he thought, so curious. It never pointed to a time in which their home would turn from glacial ice into boiling blood that now encased that vast frozen land. And yet this was the closest he had gotten on his search...was this why he forced him out of the tower and into a fool’s chase to look for “parts and pieces” for this so-called conquest to better their planet. Was it all just a ploy to hide the truth that he did not want to share with him? Ezra was furious...furious to have put so much trust in him.

"No, you are just that special, Halk…”​

“I’m tired…” He groaned, closing his eyes and pushing up the frames of his glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose. The gentle tap against his ring could only mean one thing, he was closer now. Closer than he’d ever been on this search...at times he’d forgotten why he did it. Perhaps all he wanted was answers, wanting to understand for himself if any of it was real. Why was this the path he chose of all the ones lay before him? There was duality in his feelings and yet he had nothing to allow him to tip him from the true meaning of his search. The engineer pressed his body tight against the wall, hunkering low to the ground, a shroud amongst the bodies of the maw who seemed to pay no mind to him, for now of course...for now he understood. As he approached that temple, and the pulsing slammed against the inside of his palm like an erratic heartbeat. He did the only thing he knew he could, he pushed a message through his ring...

-.-. .- -. / -.-- --- ..- / ... - .. .-.. .-.. / ..-. . . .-.. / -- . --..-- / .-.. --- ...- . ..--..

“Can you still feel me, love?”​

 

[Saan'an Gaelor]

Darth Solipsis | Rurik Fel | Auteme | Romi Jade | Kirie | Coren Starchaser | Jacen Nimdok | Aayla Shan | Metis Athena Elpis​

---

---

It wasn't working. No matter how much of the healing cosmic force he imposed onto Morteg, it made no tangible difference. Saan'an grimaced, straining himself to channel as much lifeforce as he could manage. Still, it did nothing. Why isn't it working? Panic began to rear its head. The extent of his knowledge with this aspect of the force was limited to exercises and small demonstrations. Never on a serious injury, let alone potentially fatal trauma.

“There isn’t anything we can do for him, not now. He has already gone.”

Kirie's voice startled Saan'an. In that moment, it felt as if himself and the Master in extremis were the only things that existed. His head snapped up, eye-contact locked with the now lowered Jedi. Saan'an didn't know her face. Come to think of it, he didn't know half the people who'd come for Fossk. This deception really ran that deep, didn't it? Why didn't anyone tell me?

“Don’t go after Fossk. You need to find a place to hide out until this is over with. We have it handled.”

Tears crested Saan'an's cheeks. Guilt. His head shook with a near neck-breaking level of conviction. "I can't!" he contended. There was suddenly an uncharacteristic fight in Saan'an. Where once passivity and rationalism would have coerced him to comply, now something alien and indiscernible made him stick. "He used me! I helped him do this without even realizing it!" Whatever it was, it flirted closely with anger.

"I can't run, I-" The sound of Darth Solipsis cackling replayed in his head, made him cringe. He stood, gently laying the lifeless vessel of Morteg fully onto the floor as he rose. Certainty. "Forgive me, ma'am, but you don't have this handled." A glance to the exit, back to Kirie. "I can't change that, but I can't do nothing, either."

Would she try to stop him? He would wager she would, but it was hard to be sure. Not sparing any further words, he gave her an apologetic look before taking off and bolting past her. He followed transient mental sensations of direction. One corner, another, after a several meters voices and sounds became his guide. Pivoting a corner, he came into a chamber where he found Auteme and Romi Jade lingering just as an unexpected barrier shot up behind him.

A glance over his shoulder confirmed that he was locked it. Probably the last place anyone wanted him to be. His heart skipped a beat. I have to do this, he reassured himself. Facing a Sith Lord spelled certain death for someone like Saan'an. Still, there was a frightenly strong allure toward trying that had gripped him. If it was some dark influence, rash retaliation, or just plain stupidity, was anyone's guess. Even his.

The Padawan shoveled past them without giving them time to protest.

"At last, the time of victory is at hand. The time of revenge. The time of the Sith."

That remark filled him with something unmistakable. Something entirely unlike the mysterious, ephemeral drive that had put him in this situation. Anger. It steered him recklessly into the rotunda. Past Rurik Fel and his immense white-cloaked presence. Directly into-

Fear.

Courage abandoned him at the sight of DARKCOM displaying his true face. Saan'an had dared all this way, just to freeze up again. Useless.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Archon of the Primyn Group
Empress of Terraris, Supreme Commander of the Terraris Command, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: HPI Tower, Coruscant
Objective: Stop the ritual.
Equipment: The Soulsabers | Brynja coat and hat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Allies: Elpsis Kerrigan
Enemies: Tegan Starfall | Dakrul

[ Fire and Blood ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Ingrid slowly finished exploring the area, but found nothing on the ground. Oh! The ship! The Empress hadn't thought of that before. From here, she could definitely feel the energies of the Netherworld. It was familiar to her, as she spent a lot of time there, and the time there was different than in Realspace. However, she also felt a familiar aura from the ship; it was a long time ago. In fact, it was thanks to her that she had become part of the Netherworld. Ironically, they may now be on the same side. The red-haired woman concentrated briefly and then teleported to the ship near to the sensed person.

Ingrid eliminated her invisibility and, despite the amulet, allowed Elpsis to sense her aura. If necessary, she also raised her arms, indicating that she had not come with malicious intent, though she remembered that the other woman was blind.

"Lady Elpsis! It was a long time ago…" she said as a greeting. "I didn't come to fight, at least not with you. This something that attracted me here, the Netherworld's power..

It was already firmly felt here and it was not pleasant. She once felt something similar when Chaos attacked them, penetrating the Nether and trying to destroy that place. When this something infected Zachariel Steelblood too. This aura grew stronger and stronger.

"Approaching…" she said in her usual cold voice. And this person or people have soiled the Nether. It was uncomfortable because she felt like it had happened to her too. And that was a fault that needed to be fixed.

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Location: The Senate Chamber
Gear: A tweed suit, vambraces, lightsaber, beamer
Tags: Auteme Darth Solipsis Romi Jade Coren Starchaser Rurik Fel Kirie Saan'an Gaelor

"He can't escape. We can't let him."

"And we won't. We got this alright? We have him where we need him. I'll enter after you guys so I can activate the trap. Once we're in...there's no ins or outs, not until this is finished."

Listening to this exchange, Nimdok’s eyes narrowed and he rested his hands (er, hand and stump) on his hips. So, his earlier deductions were actually correct. Romi knew. Auteme knew. Others in the group may have also known. But Nimdok didn’t know. Hell, even Aayla had at least participated in setting up the trap prior to the meeting. His own Padawan was more in-the-loop than Nimdok was.

As Romi activated the cage, the professor regarded everyone around him with a stony glare, one indignant eyebrow raised.

“Of course,” he muttered dryly. “I figured you must have some kind of plan set up in the event of another Sheev Palpatine or Taeli Raaf-style deception. Especially since this sort of thing seems to happen quite regularly here on Coruscant.”

He had to let it go, of course. Now was certainly not the time to resent his teammates for keeping him in the dark. He merely raised the stump of his severed arm, studying the burnt sleeve of his jacket.

He liked this suit, damn it.

Sweeping his gaze around the Chamber, Nimdok took cover behind a platform and reached into his pockets, retrieving a set of vambraces. He quickly attached them to either of his forearms. Hopefully, it would prevent him losing another hand.

He peered around the corner at his allies. “What’s the next stage of your plan?”

The professor’s patience was running about as thin as the magical armor Auteme had weaved around the group. He had felt Master Morteg die, same as the others. But his reaction to the senseless death was not to mourn a fallen brother or drown in regret or be similarly paralyzed by his emotions. All it did was piss Nimdok off. The fury of one whose homeworld had been ravaged, whose people had been slaughtered by these raving, frothing homicidal lunatics, thundered through his veins. He desperately, madly wanted to do something about it.

But he knew better than to go alone. They were six Jedi against one Sith Lord. Those were some pretty good odds. With the arrival of Rurik Fel, make that seven against one. No… eight now, though Nimdok visibly cringed when he saw that Saan’an had slipped inside the cage at the last moment. The kid should’ve stayed put. What was he even doing here? Why was he waltzing right up to the platform where the Sith Lord was?...

Oh, for feth’s sake!

<Padawan Saan’an,> Nimdok intoned in the boy’s mind, trying to control his anger. Raging at him wouldn’t do any good. <I respect your decision to continue fighting evil, but I don’t recommend you stand frozen out in the open like a deer in headlights. You’re in the lion’s den now, so you better stick with your friends.>

Even as he communicated telepathically with Saan’an, Nimdok spoke out loud to the others. “I’m setting up a battle meld, if you don’t mind.” He didn’t think it would interfere with any plans they might have laid. It seemed clear Nimdok's presence wasn’t factored into them anyway...

He began the meld with Saan’an, then roped it around Romi, Auteme, Lucien, Kirie, Coren, and even Rurik, if the Iron Imperator would let him.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

​

Gear: Equipment: Armour, Hold-out Bolter, Boltgun, Grenades, Sidearm, Sabre, Ion Paddle Beamer.
Enemies: Maw/Sith
Ingrid L'lerim , Tegan Starfall , Dakrul

In the moment Elpsis cut through the hatch, she felt a psychic cry through the Force, as if countless souls were suddenly being extinguished. Her mind reeled from the pressure. Then it was all over. Silence seemed to fall on the ship. But she still felt dark presences - deep within the vessel. Oh, it's one of those rituals, she thought grimly. However, before she could penetrate further, a familiar presence diverted her attention.

Immediately, Elpsis spun around, blazing lightsabre raised ready to strike. The Empress raised her arms. Elpsis was able to perceive that much. The pyromancer restrained herself while the other woman spoke. It was probably a mildly awkward reunion since Elpsis had killed her some time ago. Well, very briefly.

"Fine," Elpsis grunted. "Stab the Sithies and I won't stab you again." Elpsis either did not know or really care about the fact that many Mawist darksiders were not Sithies. One psychopathic dark wizard who liked to blow up planets and conduct blood sacrifices was the same as any other to her.
"You can take point." And so she moved into the ship. The stench of death clogged the air. Elpsis felt disgust, but not shock. It was what Sithies and their ilk did.

The cycle of light and dark was spinning like a star around a black hole, getting faster and faster. Jedi were raised on stories on Luke Skywalker, his one in a million shot and his 'redemption' of Darth Vader. They expected their acts of heroism to make a difference and create a better world. And they broke when it didn't work that way. Elpsis accepted the way the world was, and did her duty anyway. Because it was what she chose; because she didn't know what else to do; because she was the one member of the family who hadn't lost sight of what mattered.

Elpsis could not see in the conventional sense, but she could perceive the dark auras congregating in the rear of the vessel. The moment she approached the alcove and the collection of dark wizards was in sight, she brought up her bolter and fired. Explosive bolts burst towards the Sith. The bolts would explode on impact and had a nice area of effect. It helped there wouldn't be a lot of room to dodge.

 

[Zorah Cinsilo]

Z O R A H  C I N S I L O

Tag: Phalsi Drynchen | Finley Dawson | Travot Ravenna ​

Equipment/attire: Zorah's lightsaber | Armour​

Location and time: Coruscant, Jedi Temple (South East Landing pads)​

​

Enemies: TBA + open

The moment the commlink began to make a buzzing sound as it was only static noise that remained, Zorah was finally made aware of one of her new objectives; that obviously being reaching the landing pads. If she was able to assist this Jedi Knight with landing, then they might stand a chance against the strong offensive dashes and strikes that their enemies inflicted. This planet and its metropolis had been concealed by a layer of ash and the endless buildings that were destroyed in the process of this battle, be it intentional or subconsciously done. If they could only end such hazard and let this all be done, over and safe for all the civilians to return to their homes, not having to be afraid for any future clashes or the aftermath of all of this. But that was a goal worth striving for, and this Jedi Councilor would make sure to do everything in her power to contribute to the greater good.

The two golden blades would leave the emitter as the rather eerie and low-pitched noise left the lightsaber hilt upon performing such action. But even if a Jedi shouldn't have to rely on their weapon to assist them during combat, it was necessary during this time and it was only her personal oath that might be a bit affected by this instance. However, the Force remained by her side, like a soft lullaby that was sung to a child before they went to bed, trying to calm them while they might be in distress about the tiniest of things in this galaxy. The thought itself was enough for Zorah to continue and rush towards the next opponent, and that she did. They were going to fall in the name of justice, in the name of the Silver Jedi, in the name of the Jedi. They were one, especially during times of war, no rivalry, they all fought against the same target, trying to prevent and defend this world from falling to the dark side.

With one or two steps and the sound of the Force moving like a hum around her body, the Jedi Consular sprinted towards one of the two more direct and close targets, this wasn't quite going to be easy especially when you are outnumbered with the amount of Sith that was trying to march into this temple. Either way, if she was to defeat these two, the pathway to the landing pads would be safer than it was before. The next step was filled with more action than it was meant to be, the moment she placed her black leather boot on the flooring, it was as if the Force told her bits, gave her insight on what had yet to come, the distance between her and the two masked Sith and possibly what else was lingering around this entrance. It wasn't that much to be scared of or even show a little bit of remorse, but it was enough to decide the more theoretical side of this attack.

Her lightsaber hilt would slowly be lifted as her fingers tightened their grasp on the green leather as she slowly let the right blade be moved towards the ground as the other one was raised. A double-bladed weapon was ideal when you were fighting two duelists, so as their crimson lightsabers would finally reveal the blades... it would be time to dance.

It was time.

The weapon of light and those of dark clashed again as they made a roaring noise, yet instead of taking on a very offensive way of fighting. Zorah held back lightly, trying to move away from the fight as it was only the pathway to the landing pads that she searched, it would only require a telekinetic blow to push these two away, so why bother and try to lose a limb in combat. But either way, the Silver Jedi twirled around her opponents as she would sometimes strike but primarily defend the incoming attacks from what she presumed to be Juggernauts. Their way with the weaponry and their stance in this battle only made it obvious for them to be such a Force-wielder.

Time and time again, it was as if the swords kept on making a clinking noise as they were slashed on the blades and sometimes even really close to the hilt itself, who was lucky enough to be made out of song steel so it wouldn't inflict as much damage as it should. But if it kept on going this way, the metal hilt might give up the fight and leave her without any weaponry, so her pinky finger, index finger and her thumb would be lifted as she slowly performed a technique that drew the Force towards her, the Ashla that swirled around her hands as she performed the single technique that might save her enough time to change tactics.

A powerful push.

The two masked Sith grunted as they fell backwards, and were pushed away a couple of metres. This was enough time for Zorah to take one or two steps back and loosen the clip that connected the right lightsaber to the left one, she was going to split it in half... Take on an offensive fighting style as Knight Ravenna might be in danger at the landing pads and whoever they might have brought with them. SNAP! The metal piece was removed from the lightsabers as it was wrapped around what had remained of the two hilts. With a swift motion, Master Cinsilo turned around her lightsabers, holding it in the remarkable reverse grip as she glared at the two dark siders.

''Retreat. Or else.''

The Sith got up again as they glared with their yellow eyes at the Jedi Councilor. Retreating wasn't a thing they knew, wasn't a thing they adhered to, by far this wasn't going to happen and so their lightsabers would be lifted again as one of them sprinted towards the Jedi while the other began to hold up their hand, their gloved hand revealed the purple finger tops, and at that moment... it all began to make sense. Instead of throwing her lightsaber or doing anything in that manner, Zorah was going to do something else, something that was by far damaging her personal oath to the light and to serenity.

Her hands would be lifted as if she was scared or anything, but her face remained to express the rather stern glance at the two. Her lightsabers illuminated parts of her face with a golden hue as there was a certain field beginning to grow around her hands, almost like an orb or a bubble in water after you put soap in the place. Well, the moment the Sith got real close and even lifted their lightsaber like a spear that was about to be thrown at her hands, Zorah released the pressure on her hands and let certain energy run from her body that targetted and wrapped around the bodies of the two dark siders. The temperature of their physique and the rest within it began to lower as they fell to the ground, the red blades retracting as certain chaos had passed. But it was only personal fatigue that followed, the pain of performing 'morichro' was horrid and she would often avoid using it because of it, despite her mastery.

With a simple motion and a trembling hand, the two lightsabers would be attached to one another as she wandered towards the landing pads, the sounds of some sort of ship clarified in the hallways as she slowly walked towards there. If Ravenna needed help with the evacuation efforts, then who would she be as to avoid that call, she trained initiates and sometimes even gave instructions to the Padawans or Knights about certain matters, she was on the Council for such a short time, but that... honour was enough to influence and affect all of her life, from wandering through the halls of the silver rest accompanied by a fellow Padawan to the point where she was in the Council chambers almost every day. Things change but duties don't.

And that had to be proven.

''Knight Ravenna, correct?''

With a simple leap, she made an easy way towards the landing pads, her double-bladed lightsaber ignited as she glanced at the man. A slight worry on her face as her brow furrowed slightly, exchanging eye contact with the Temple workers who seemed to be in distress as they held onto the children. This must have been one of the worst things they could possibly see in their times as an employee.

''I have got to say, the Southern entrance is looking a bit... splintered already. But that shouldn't be our top priority right now, we have to find all of these younglings and Padawans before the Sith do. Because I don't assume this is all of them.''

 

[Isla Draellix-Kobitana]

Spoiler: Equipment and links

Viper mk2 skinsuit under outfit​

Ashlan Rosary​

Songsteel Saber​

Flagship​

Hand of Ashla - in orbit​

Accompanied by​

4 3 Praetorian Mk1 droids - painted white with golden guilding​

​

Tags: Geiseric Eina L'lerim-Vandiir Heinrich Faust

​

Isla continued her flight, she had no way of knowing how close behind her the bounty hunter and his infested were, if she had, would it really have made a difference? Although she had her droids, she was no fighter herself, relying solely on her traditional martial arts training, as single blaster bolt could spell the end for her. She did sometimes envy all the Jedi that she typically surrounded herself with for their ability to defend themselves, but she still believed their use and reliance on the force could make them very blinkered.

Rounding a corner she came to what looked like a banquet hall, the room was laid out with lots of food and there were a few people milling about, helping themselves.

"what are you all doing here? the Maw have attacked, you need to get somewhere safe! now!"

The diners barely reacted to her, but one man piped up, "so what, we run and get slaughtered in a corner somewhere, there is no escaping here? we should be enjoying ourselves before they get us." And he took a large gulp from a glass which looked like it contained some spirit. "You're that Ashlan Admiral right?" he asked

"That's right, Admiral Draellix, so listen to me, when i tell you, what the Maw do to their victims is worth any chance of escape even if it is small"

"na! stuff that, I hear you are a good little religious girl, not married either, I bet you haven't even kissed a man have you? how about it? enjoy the end of times with the man they call the Stud of Seranno?" He made a crude jesture and rolled his hips suggestively.

Isla rolled her eyes, the man was so drunk, she didn't even bother scolding him for his wholly inappropriate proposition although she some great comebacks for his kind right on the tip of the tongue. She left without even saying a word and they went back to their food, gorging themselves on the banquet fit for senators and kings. She felt a little bad for them, they were just scared and trying to enjoy what they felt were their last moments, but she wasn't going to sit around, and she certainly wasn't looking to sample the "stud of Serrano"

 

[Keilara Kala'myr]

Ziare Dyarron (NIO) | Keilara Kala'myr (Maw)
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent, Nite agent | Slave of the Maw​

Objective II.: Bastion Accords Besieged
Location: 500 Republica, Coruscant
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Omega Phase Assault Rifle | 2x PV-16 "Sunfury" Pulse Pistol | Druetium Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger || Stealth field generator || OPBC-01m
Tags / Writing with: The Mongrel | Ignatius Rausgeber | Atticus Draco | Open

[ Beauty Of Annihilation ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

One of them went to the door to close it behind me. I didn’t wait for this, I raised my pistol and shot him at his nape. He died immediately. The other roared in fear and began to run away. It would have been too easy if I just shot him in the back. I shot into his knee from behind. The fool was unable to escape and run in a zigzag pattern. He fell on the ground screaming. A cruel smile appeared on my lips. I put the gun away and took out my dagger. It was time for me to have some fun too.

A good few minutes later, the entire basement was soaked in blood and internal organs. In the end, the man no longer had the strength to shout or whimper. In any case, it was an euphoric feeling. I don't even know how long I've been waiting for this. I started up with a sick grin on my lips, my armour was bloody. I thought for a moment that I should take off my helmet so that others could see how good my mood was, but that unfortunately would not have been very practical. In any case, I took their identification chips from the two employees; at least I solved it so that I could move freely inside the building.

Oh! One of them was a security man; it made things even better. Then, according to this, head to the security room and take control of the place as much as possible. Disable security systems, lock everyone in the various suites so they can’t come out. And then the harvest would be child's play for us. Perfect.

<< Warlord! I got one of the security officers access to the 500 Republica. I will try to bring the building under the Maw's control. >> I sent the message.

I used the staff elevator, I went to the right level with it. I was prepared to have guards on the corridor; this was also confirmed by MANIAC, so the rifle was already in my hand. One guard in the hallway, one in the room. I switched to shotgun mode as soon as the elevator door opened, I had already fired. The woman didn't have time to comprehend what was happening. The other guard, a man, came out of the room. I fired at the moment he stepped out into the hallway. Mercy versus guards four-zero. True, for that, everyone had to be out and fight the Maw, but I don't care.

It was time to get the full victory; I entered the security room…

 

[Ignatius Rausgeber]

A Darkened Side Street
Survive
The Mongrel | Atticus Draco

Ignatius leered against Kerri's fragile frame, still groaning, and drooling. Blood dripping out of his mouth. "Find us transportation," The Mongrel barked. To which Kerri almost saluted. Even with his busted wing, but instead nodded to the man. Enthusiastically. "I will deal with this." Kerri seemed to be of the school of thought which belonged to 'better him than us' as he skulked away, hauling Ignatius' semi-conscious form with him.

"Come on Iggy, you dumb prick," Kerri growled as they rounded a corner, he thrust his subordinate auxiliary against a wall, and watched him flail momentarily, before stumbling, "Ya can't be gone this easy," Kerri reached down, and caught Ignatius by the collar of his coat, and even with one hand able to, dragged him up, and pinned him against the wall. "Come on man. Don't be like this. Ya not some kinda veggie, you're Iggy. " He reached up, and tried to slap him. Blood merely sloshed from his nose, with some grunting from the yet sober auxilary, "For the Avatar's sake, you dumb knob slobber!" Kerri grunted in frustration, pressing Ignatius' still sloppy form against a wall, and then, with a quite brutal thrust, slamming his knee at the crux of the Auxiliary's crotch.

Ignatius immediately wheezed in pain. "Gah!" He cried, doubling over and pressing his hands to cup the crown jewels, "Argh!" He grunted, breathes hitched, "Wh-what was that?" Ignatius panted, "What was that for?!" All beatings in the Maw aside, it was this which really got his attention. Not that Ignatius was somehow impervious to the beatings dispatched by others. But they, either in horseplay or discipline seemed to play by one set of rules. Not the genitals. And yet, with this, it was the sharp relief of both pain and adrenaline which granted the Auxiliary cognisance. "Kerri, you prat!"

"Shut it, Iggy!" Kerri barked back, snarling at him with barred teeth, "We are right now buggered, if we don't get us a ride!" Kerri explained. "My wing is shafted, and you're the only one of me, and the Mongrel who looks in a real good lick of health." At least relatively speaking. Ignatius reached, and pinched the bridge of his nose, grunting, "We right now Iggy, have to get the Mongrel a ride." Kerri explained, "That's like, a direct order from the big fellah." The Weequay added. "He's right now facing some sorta Jedi or something, so we gotta get a wriggle on!" Kerri gestured further down the alleyway they stood in, "Get us something real quick. I don't wanna not get to piss on a rug in the Replica 500!"

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

IT'S ALWAYS DARKEST BEFORE THE DAWN...​

Location: Coruscant - Jedi Temple - Courtyard

Spoiler: Lightsabers

"ELOAH" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)

Spoiler: GEAR

Comm-link, Rebreather, Custom Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added)Advanced Jedi Utility Belt

Spoiler: STARSHIP/COMPANIONS

Starship: Starlight Sentinel, (Jedi Interceptor in landing bay, Dilorian and Bike both in cargo bay)
Companion: Astromech R01R - "Roller", Pilot droid Mu51c - "Music"

Tag: (engaging directly) @Rannan Kol

https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/816928855725834290/886156070584725504/coruscant1fixed.png

Crazy; Adjective. - Doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different result

I know… that’s what I’m saying… why wait to leave?

Really? Kol was not in his element anymore. The surprise was gone and he may have been learning Caltin, Caltin was indeed learning him. Yeah, this was not a “fight” but a “duel” between two Masters of their craft and while Caltin may not have liked what he stood for, he could respect Kol for his approach. Why else would he give the man a chance to leave unscathed? Did the Dark Jei Master truly believe that he was going to get something out of this? Even if he felled the big guy, Jedi from all over the galaxy were converging. No, Caltin was doing him a favor and he did not see it.

Oh well.

A part of Caltin wanted to pull “Eloha” his backup/secondary long-handle lightsaber and draw her into the fight, but what would that prove? He was going to finish this the way he started it, he trusted his abilities, and most of all, he trusted “Conservator” the weapon had saved his life more times than he cared to count.

The exchange went about as well as expected until Kol’s defensive maneuver, snapping his inverted weapon at the big guy who did indeed get hit by it in the forearm. What’s more, Tutaminis would not save him as it could not be summoned fast enough. What did save his arm from being more than singed was the Phrik underlay of his vambrace. As the lightsaber slid down the device and off of his withdrawing appendage, Caltin watched the “glorified glove” split into pieces and fall to the ground.

Losing the vambrace didn’t bother him, he would just get another, but Caltin was disappointed to see Kol overcome by the Dark Side. The disappointment came because up to this point, this was not just a “fight”, it was a “duel”, Caltin actually had to come at him, he had to work the problem. Now? Now he theorized that it would be little more than his previous battles with Sith, sure, it would be simple and straightforward, but it looked like he wasn’t going to be tested anymore.

The flash in Kol’s eyes would make anyone do a double-take, Caltin saw this and even blinked himself. Make no mistake, he did not fear his foe, not at all, but Caltin knew that regardless of the level of skill required, the battle was about to intensify. It may not be cerebral anymore, but it was going to be intense and that only meant that he could come at the big guy with everything that he had.

The Dark Jedi Master’s attack worked to perfection, and while Caltin did not defend as aggressively as he could have, that more than likely would not have mattered. His lightsaber was indeed locked into place, but at the same time, this was good for him because he angled “Conservator” enough to lock Kol’s weapon as well. The non-dominant lightsaber hit its mark and while Caltin’s battle armor was designed to withstand a lightsaber hit as well, the impact of the blade against his chest still knocked the breath he was inhaling out of him.

This was where his extensive cardiovascular conditioning came into play.

Kol was close enough for Caltin’s free hand to grab at him and grab he did. The big guy did not grab at his clothes, his vestments, anything, no, Caltin grabbed hard at his neck. His grip would not be denied as the big guy would use his natural strength in an attempt to lift Kol off the ground and throw him. The massive Jedi Master was not anticipating the knee that just slammed into his abdomen.

cough

His physical move did not work out as planned because the wind was knocked out of him again. Instead of throwing Kol, Caltin slammed him back/neck first into the ground. Letting go, the big guy walked around for a second to get some space and reposition himself. It took a moment, but once Kol would get to his feet he would be fine. Why Caltin was taking so long at the moment was that there was something about this foe that he couldn’t put his finger on, but couldn’t quite figure out. Normally he “didn’t need reverse” when it came to fighting against those of the Dark Side, and his approach towards Kol was no different, but what about a different dynamic he hadn’t approached yet.

Still want to prolong the inevitable?

When Kol would be up to his feet, he would see Caltin dropped into a classic Form III position. The defensive stance was a “prepared feint” as no doubt Kol would come right at him again. The feint was simple, wait until the last possible second, make Kol commit to his move, and then react. How would he react? That depended on Kol. This was not a sign of disrespect, it was simply because Kol may be losing a step, but he was starting to fight like a cornered animal.

I believe that you are smarter than this. Am I wrong?

... YET THE DAWN ALWAYS COMES.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

SENATE BUILDING // CORUSCANT

ASSETS: GA | NIO | SJC | AC
LIABILITIES: Derix Tirall | Romund Sro | MAW
INVESTMENTS: Guarantor | Visions of Gold

The two Senate Guards had their blaster pistols at the high and ready as they came around the corner to confront the High Regent and his retinue. Their close protection tasking saw them attired in civilian business attire to avoid standing out in the Senate hallways, the only outward sign of their role were blast vests grabbed from a guard station while extracting the Vice Chancellor. Not that the signature blue Senate Commando armour would have made a difference outnumbered as they were against the red armoured Final Dawn soldiers.

The guardsmen recognised the enemy and knew the threat posed to Tithe. Their training was to defeat assassins and fend off protestors, not go toe to toe with elite enemy soldiers. It was too late to withdraw and try to get the Vice Chancellor back down to the tunnel to safety. All they could do was buy him time to escape, and trust that the crafty Aargauun had some tricks up his leave.

“Sir, run!” The lead close protection officer opened fire with his pistol while the second guard charged forward to engage the Final Dawn soldiers at point-blank range.

Tithe, himself already scurrying back down the service tunnel, head the exchange of blaster start. And second later, he heard it stop. One side was dead, and judging by the fact his guards had gone silent on comms, he assumed he was on the losing side.

A voice echoed down the service corridor. Not a guttural soldiers voice, but a refined learned voice. The type of voice Tithe could negotiate with.

Besides, running down the corridor would only end with him getting shot in the back.

“Yes, well, ahh, sorry about that,” he replied as he rounded the corner to approach to Final Dawn contingent, stepping over the smoking bodies of his Senate guards. “The price of fanaticism I fear.” He finally got a good view at the group standing between himself and freedom - an immaculately robed individual surrounded by a cohort of red armoured protectors, their uniforms emblazoned with the symbol of the Final Dawn.

At least they weren’t Sith.

“I’ll get out of your way shall I,” Tithe explained, stepping to one side of the corridor and motioning for the soldiers to move past. “Now if you follow the tunnel it goes right into the heart of the Senate building. And no, don’t mind me, I shan’t tarry you a moment longer.”

 

[Coren Starchaser]

They were all part of the Force, part of the intricate web of darkness and light. Everyone had their part to play, be it a beacon, an absence, or somewhere in the shadows. Starchaser himself was working on being part of the beacon. The Force surrounded him and filled him as he moved, paying attention to his footwork and saber position, but the majority of his focus was on the Force, and allowing it to control his movements while he was working to push back the air of the dark.

Hearing Romi Jade , the Master nodded, using the Force, the nudge the crystal to her hands.

The gathered were making calls, this Sith had been here, it seemed, but the fight needed to occur now. He could feel it in the Force, the Sith was foolhardy. But that all changed when…

A dragon appeared. Woven from the very Force, and a perfect distraction. As it moved to intercept the Sith, he stepped back, looking to Jacen Nimdok . “He’s a Sith. This has happened before. Don’t let them fester.”

Yet Romi was already on the run.

This battle was not shaping up to be a reminder of all that was good on Coruscant. Dhalinar Greystar had fallen, one of his race, cut down. The Master wasn’t sure how to handle it. He looked at his own arm, lost in the heat of combat to a Sith many years back. The wars were costly. He had devoted himself recently to the protection of the knowledge of the Force. It had granted him new insight. As he flexed the songsteel arm in this moment, he knew what must be done.

“He won’t escape.” That was when Romi Jade spoke. The crystal trap was ready.

Grip on his lightsaaer, as the blade reignited, opening himself to the battle meld, to throw his skills and efforts to the other Jedi.

Auteme Darth Solipsis Kirie Saan'an Gaelor Rurik Fel