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

[Rurik Fel]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
Iron Skin | Lightsaber
Willan Tal | DECEASED Erskine Barran | Zark San Tekka | Auteme | Darth Solipsis

DARKNESS

SENATE BUILDING
GALACTIC CITY​

The blood that soaked into Lao Mon had yet to be lost on the Imperator. Each and every life spent in virtuous futility stained his thoughts. But there was no use dwindling on it, continuing to wring himself with guilt over past failure would land him in a self depracating cycle of a nigh suicidal spiral within his own thoughts.

They would all have their vengeance, their justice, soon enough. But now- came one of Rurik's least preferred duties as Imperator. Diplomacy. Not but two years before he took command of the Empire following Tavlar's death, his predecessor strung the New Order into a defensive pact and alliance with the light-aligned powers of the Galaxy. Thus- the Empire was the odd man out. As the rest espoused their virtuous suffering and supposed good will to the rest of the Galaxy- the New Order was cut from a different cloth.

For now- their interests all aligned in the elimination of the Sith and the marauding, profane creatures they aligned themselves with. Even Rurik, a former Jedi himself, questioned how long this could last. It was not long ago that the Silver Jedi saw it better fit to protect Sith Imperials on Dantooine. It was not long ago that the Galactic Alliance turned their arms on the Empire on Yinchorr. Many were quick to forget these events for the sake of political expediency, to work toward a greater, mutual interest. ​

Rurik's memory was more permanent than that. Iron never bent.

He wasn't exactly sure how to approach these glad hands, how to approach the democratically elected fools of the Core and the Concord, or the righteous warriors of virtuous suffering that came from the Ashlan Crusade. But he knew that Tavlar would not be content with defeat. He would not turn his gaze away from this threat, even a losing effort like Csilla proved that to be true.

No.

These scions of death and destruction would be met with the fate of their making soon enough. As Rurik stewed with crossed arms and furrowed brow beneath his iron visage, awaiting the other delegates of the Bastion Protocols along with his Galidraani subordinates he brought his gaze to the view of the city proper in the waning hours of the day.

His eyes screwed shut. He wished to meditate, but this was far from any ideal venue. As much as he could blank his mind out from the outside world- his thoughts were disturbed with a growing darkness...a darkness to come.

His eyes pried open in sudden realization.

He was here.

Explosions rocked the center of the Galaxy. Just as Csilla was shattered, the nexus of the Galaxy was bathed in flame. Surreal, a brutal, brutal and surreal reality.

Solipsis, the vantablank Sith'ari, the warmaster of this horrid host was here. A corrosive parasite in the beating heart of an ailing Galaxy.

But he would not suffer the unclean to live once more. He would rip the parasite from its host with a vicious pull. At the reveal of his truest nature, Rurik's iron will awakened once more. Even as his body was still wrought with the wounds of their past encounter, he would march once more into the fray to dance with the Sith'ari once more. And by all the blessing of the Imperial sons and daughters before him - he would make his will be done and end Solipsis.

Even if it took the New Jedi Order and all their virtuous suffering dying at the end of his crimson blade to make right in a bleeding Galaxy.

"Tal, Barran. Consolidate our forces- do not let these marauders take the initiative in this assault. Take whatever measures it takes to halt these vermin at every turn. Should the need arise...I will declare Tarkin protocol here and purge the sickness from this place." What he mean't in that last phrase was unclear...but regardless, his intent was known. Regardless of the collateral, darkness would be felled and the Iron Sun would blot out the sea of decadent misery of Galactic City.

Order or else.

As the bars of sapphire and crimson of the Imperial officer staff took the reins of control of their parceled forces on Coruscant, far from what would be optimal to mount a true defensive of a city they held no love for, Rurik once more would do as he always had done.

In defiant reprisal, he sought the head of the snake once more. Even if he failed to slay his mark once more- each moment Solipsis took in tangling with iron was another that the Alliance and Empire could continue to press the advantage unfettered in other venues of battle.

Drawing his argent cloak over his shoulders he vacated the meeting room, abandoning any delusion of a call to reason and arms with his allies and set his sights solely on what he knew.

War.

 

[Audren Sykes]

It had been a long time since Audren had found himself on Coruscant. The Galactic Alliance of old, maybe? No, not the original, but the one Coren Starchaser had been a leading member of. Er...maybe that didn't help. He'd been ignoring the state of galactic leadership for a very long time now. On one hand such was a significant failing for a Jedi Master, and for a business owner hoping to expand his market share. On the other, it made his life quite a bit easier. No Council politics to be aware of - let alone which Council would take precedence - or have to bend over backwards to obey. Rather, it was just him and his sense of what needed doing. He'd joined some of the enclaves, involved himself in some of the Circles, but claimed no central allegiance. That meant limited access to the resources of each, but it was a fair tradeoff.

Right, back to Coruscant. He'd received Dagon Kaze's message through several of the channels he monitored. Normally this would be something he'd ignore; there were plenty of other Jedi in the galaxy, and especially so on the glittering jewel of the Core. Something about the message though...the message was current but it reeked of historical precedent. The Old Republic and the fall of the Jedi. The assaults on the Jedi during the original Galactic Alliance. What little he'd heard about the reconstituted Galactic Alliance. It didn't sit right with him, and so he'd picked up and headed in.

The Tínen Sûl had made good time. As the vessel wasn't registered under any Jedi order he was able to slip in and find a quiet, out of the way docking bay to land, then head toward the Temple district. He'd seen absolutely nothing of note, but there had been a tension in the Force. Not even that actually, it had been the possibility of growing tension from the relatively near future. There was no real indication of where it originated though, just when. Talk about confusing. So the Sephi had managed to finagle a short-term room not far away and had quietly transferred equipment from his ship to said room. The room, the docking bay...all of it was booked under the TransGalMeg company name rather than his own name. There was no surface evidence to reveal him as a Jedi, and nothing the first several layers down of investigation either.

The next day was when the storm head broke. The dark side erupted across the planet, concentrated in the government and Temple districts. Fleets phased into being with enough numbers to darken the skies and armies swarmed in a massive wave of violence. The elfin Master who had years ago lost his acclimation to the crush of beings and resulting clamor in the Force of such a place had nearly been swept under the waves of hatred and darkness that flooded the ecumenopolis. It had taken several minutes of simple concentration to center himself, at which point he calmly began equipping the gear he'd brought with him.

His first involvement was someone else two doors down the hall. A Gran was heading out to leave for a business meeting and had encountered a small band of marauders as his door had opened. His head had hit the ground before the three eyes could blink, followed shortly thereafter by the body. One of the marauders tried breaking down the door adjacent but it was locked and he couldn't quite get the leverage, fortunately for the terrified woman inside. Audren's door, however, was at a T junction and allowed for a running start. The raider burst in only to be met with a whirling blade to the neck and a kick that knocked him back out. The slash hadn't gone all the way through though, so it was messy. The second received a nerf-steak knife to the eye while the third took a full-strength particle bolt to the chest.

The Sephi that walked out the broken door appeared quite different than the one who'd entered. Rather than business-styled travel clothing he wore a full set of armor. A lightsaber hilt was prominently displayed at his right hip and a pistol of some sort on his left. Two long daggers were present and a blaster carbine was slung across his back. When the other faces poked out of their doors and saw him - and the bodies in the background - they swiftly disappeared back into their rooms and closed the doors.

It didn't take long for the Jedi to find his way to the garage and hire an automated taxi. It also didn't take long for that taxi's droid brain to apologize and - due to dangerous circumstances - set down at the nearest safe landing zone, providing a pro-rated return of credits. Minutes later he was walking down an abandoned sliding walkway, music playing quietly as it moved him along at a decent pace. The walkway terminated at what appeared to be a residential building that wasn't allowing visitors armed like he was inside...it was almost insulting. Down and to the right however, he saw an unpowered walkway that tangentially connected to the Jedi Temple. Remarkably it was not yet overflowing with Mawites, though the crowd at the other end suggested that would come soon. And inside the Temple...learners. Waiting for evacuation or headed to other points, but they were young and inexperienced.

A leap over the railing and a touch of the Force - plus another to soften the landing - set him down in the middle of that connecting walkway, where he shouldered his blaster carbine and faced the oncoming crowd. They didn't slow, didn't wait, just let loose with a roar and blaster bolts. The transparisteel safety guards along the railings tore free from their retaining bolts; one of them settled into a shielding position before him while the other turned horizontal and hurled itself through the first several ranks of Mawites before spinning to a stop. It was a mess that caused the rest of the crowd to only momentarily hesitate.

"This is my walkway. You'll come no further."

Apparently that was taken as a challenge. A second roar erupted and the group began slipping forward over their eviscerated friends to try and reach the lone Jedi in their path.


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

Spoiler: Equipment

Armor
Lightsaber
Carbine
Sidearm
Daggers
throwing knives

 

[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 (Southern entrance)​

​

Enemies: TBA + open

Her lightsaber hissed as it slowly moved towards one of the Sith, the Jedi Temple had to be defended at all cost, no matter the amount of agony that it could cause, this was striving to help her allies survive such a horrible battle. The red and the orange collided as the blades roared, yet what her opponent wasn't aware of, was the way this weapon could reveal a hidden sword, the opposite side. And it would only take a simple click with the Force to stimulate this process to happen. The mesmerising golden hue glowed lightly on her face as she pushed up her opponent's weapon as she turned around and let the other side of her double-bladed sabre penetrate the dark cloth that protected the dark sider's torso as he fell to the ground.

The orange blades were retracted as the Silver Jedi Master slowly reattached them to her belt, letting it hang from the metal clip, as it slowly awaited to be used again by her. This fight wasn't over yet, but there were matters to tend to first, especially one that held a major significance to Cinsilo.

The Silver Jedi Councilor glanced at the corpse of the recently defeated Sith as she nodded slowly, whispers leaving her mouth as the formalities grew, she was a woman influenced by traditions and must always remain loyal to these. Even if the Sith are destined to be their nemeses, it didn't quite matter to her, they deserved to go in peace, especially after a worthy fight trying to do what was right. And with that, she lowered herself to the ground as her two fingers ran past his eyelids, closing them. Indicating at the last page in this person's life, the end, be it a cruel one...

''Your fight is over, malluma'sinioro. May you rest in peace.''

The words left her mouth as she got up again, holding out her hand, enforcing an invisible barrier that could deflect the attacks, as the blaster fire was slowly being drawn to all the Jedi within her proximity, some were on the brink of death to their opponent's while others were doing the complete opposite and defeating the Sith in either a merciless or a purely traditional manner. It didn't matter to her, as long as she was able to help wherever she could, which was exactly what her destiny would have wanted, the commlink attached to her armour began to vibrate as the static noises of a Jedi calling for possible assistance.

With her left hand still held up and her palm serving the purpose of a shield, with her other hand, she reached out and wrapped her fingers around the commlink before moving towards a rather calm or more peaceful place in the Temple's entrance. It was the place of war, with chaos striking the entire planet and primarily targeting the metropolis if they get a hold of the Temple and the other important buildings in the city... then it would be over for the Galactic Alliance and its allies, but it was a goal worth preventing, even if she wasn't the strongest fighter that they could offer, if there was any way to assist her associates, then she would take the risk of death and injury to stop it.

''Jedi Council member and Master, Zorah Cinsilo reporting in, I will make my way to the South-eastern side of the Temple. Be safe out there and may the Force be with you, Knight Ravenna.''

Zorah spoke carefully as her journey has proceeded, the South-eastern side of the Coruscanti Temple, all she could hope for was that it was a bit more peaceful on that side. Yet even with the great amount of hope that filled her mind, she wasn't blind to see that that wasn't possible, so the lightsaber was drawn and the golden blades were revealed yet again. Time to make her way to this ship...

​

​

 

[Inosuke Ashina]

Ashina's Crisis
Henna Ashina

---

---

​

Finally, the horrible disturbance identified itself. Within mere minutes, uncertain calm became tumultuous chaos. Coruscant became a warzone, and the Dark had come to claim its tithe. There were prodigies and portents abound that could have illuminated this very moment. Only in hindsight did Inosuke realize how illegible the Dark Side had made them. At every turn, they had been played.

"How are we going to get them out? If they've breached the entrance already..."

Despite the urgency of the situation, Inosuke spoke as measured and calmly as ever, "You must take them below. There are access tunnels to the old temple and undercity." It wouldn't be safe, only safer. There wasn't anywhere else to go, making retreat was their brightest hope. "I sense others flee there as well." In his mind's eye, Inosuke could see several already ongoing attempts to reach them.

Inosuke took several cane-assisted steps to get a better look over the cityscape. It was far worse than he'd initially thought. It clawed at the faintest cracked in his demanor, tried to show something. Only the subtlest tell that he was worried showed on his face. Easy to miss if you didn't look for it. "You must hurry and connect with the others. Numbers will grant you and the younglings greater security."

The language he used implied an exclusion of himself. It was intentional. The final proclamation from the cane-bound, head-bandaged Jedi made his intent clear as day. "I will cover your retreat."

ASHINA CLAN​

 

[Ignatius Rausgeber]

CORUSCANT CITY STREETS
The Mongrel
Operation: Don't Test The Hound

Ignatius looked over the Mongrel as Rotgut departed to make his own preparations. The whole crew sort of stood there, awkwardly stunned as to what to do. "This is the heart of 'civilized' decadence," The Mongrel broke the silence with his metallic glowering, and a sort of salute. Everyone stood to attention, their posture tightening and their eyes locked with his metallic form. He was feared, and with very good reason. "Today, we make them bleed. When we've finished with them, they will never forget our wrath."

There was a pause, and Kerri took the initiative, “Aye sir, we’ll make ‘em choke on their own gizzards!” He then began cackling maniacally, followed by Keef, One Lek, Bry and then Hammy. Only Ignatius remained silent, with a sort of smile. Awkward as it may be, “Pack ‘er on, and move it!” The cargo bay was now flush with action as the Auxiliaries packed their gear, made their peace and prepared to ride into battle.

T’Kerri bowed, and opened the cab door for the Mongrel, before hauling himself up on the back tray with the others. Ignatius courteously followed, strapping himself into his seat, and preparing the ignition. He had privately been hoping Kerri would have taken the seat next to him, but no matter. That was of little consequence now. The gaze of the Mongrel was now upon them. One way or another he was a captive audience for the Mongrel as he now talked on his personal comms. As Rausgeber began to warm the engine, his body froze.

The Mongrels deformed, mechanical appendage crossed the younger man, and plucked from it the letter. Ignatius’ heart dropped, “A prayer?” It was both an accusation, and damning. The Auxiliary let his teeth sink into his lower lip in a palpable grimace. Ignatius turned his head slowly, and shook his head. He did not dare try to snatch it back like he would with perhaps Kerri, or Glenn. No. This was the boss. A legendary warrior in his own right.

The letter, read upon examination, in immaculate handwriting:

“To whomever find this letter with its author,

I am Ignatius Ervine Rausgeber. The circumstances upon which you have found me are not necessarily the most auspicious, and the company you may have found me in may not make this claim believable. But I make assurances that I am anything but one of the barbarians who has taken it upon themselves to call me a colleague. You see, dear rescuer, I was but an intelligence agent and diplomat assigned to the staff office of the First Imperial Diplomatic Service.

From my limited understanding of galactic affairs as I have been indetured to servitude for some time, and to verify, this was the iteration of the FIrst Order, prior to the collapse at the hands of the Ss-Ruuvi Imperium. Whose leadership was that of Supreme Leader Sieger Ren and Grand Moff Natasi Fortan. Yet I have reason to believe a successor state would not welcome me in open arms on Dosuun.

The reason I have found myself ingratiated with the Brotherhood of the Maw as both slave and warrior, and it is for this purpose I have found you on the battlefield. This is thanks to a serious of events whose credulity strains believability and I shall not for the purposes of this letter bore you with them.

The bottom line is that if you are reading this, and have not decided to kill me, I am seeking asylum. I have been victimised, beaten and witness to horrors beyond what is imaginable. I am a civilian, who has been pressed into service. But not only that, I am a diplomat. And in accordance with diplomatic norms I would of course anticipate the amicable treatment of a member of a foreign diplomatic service.

Serial Number: XF-320”

The letter was clearly incomplete. As there were more numbers to be added, evidenced by the crude smudge. Ignatius swallowed, it was time to come clean. At least a little. “In a uh, in my past sort of life,” He offered, voice shaky, and wavering, “I was a uh, a…” He turned away, and got back to revving up the engine, “A diplomat of a sort. And given the uh, well the work we do, and how we are embarking on what is almost a suicidal attack on one of the Galaxy’s most well protected planets…” He cocked his head, as the engine revved to life, “I uh, I consider this an ….Insurance policy, if you will.”

“I would of course like to add,” Ignatius pleaded, hearing a whirring. Before them, the door to the cargo bay began to eak open, “That I-well I wouldn’t say use this to cut and run.” he offered a small laugh, turning to face the hideous visor, before turning back, “But it was in case. And I would… Well I would be uh, be willing to uh, provide one for everyone here.” He glanced back at Kerri, leaning against the E-web. It’s barrel sticking over both the Mongrel and Ignatius’ heads. “Anyways,” Ignatius put his foot on the accelerator, the speeders’ engine whirred like mad. In front of them, the freighters bay opened more and more, as it descended over the city, specifically, a small highway. “I uh, well…” He tried to think of some pithy remark, “Well lets just… Lets make history.” He shrugged, before letting go of the brake.

The LuchsHai hurtled out of the freighter at mach speeder, leaping from the ramp and down onto the highway. The technical hit the paving with a jolt, followed by a horde of other speeders following out. The warband was in play. “Whoo!” Kerri screamed, “You hear that Coruscant! You hear that?!” Kerri punctuated his call with a menacing cackle, “We are gonna kill you!” A horn played. The Auxiliary was here, and they were to make anyone in their path, dead.

Ignatius rolled his eyes, but gave a glance to the Marauder beside him as he weaved through the myriad of speeders, most left abandoned in the panic to get to shelter. “So sir, uh, all things considered, where do you want us to head?” he paused, and offered a small smile, again, totally forced, “I live to serve your eminence.”

 

[Kat Decoria]

Tag: Darth Mori
Equipment: Lightsaber Pike | Legs (link in description)
Objective: Get the hell outta dodge
​

Her room was a mess with massive dents all over the walls, her bags were packed with her clothes neatly stored away and only her Lightsaber on hand, her guns were on her fighter which had been grounded. She was still pissed that the GA decided it was a smart move to lock all the Jedi up on one location and then lock up random Force Users within the territory because Kat was not a Jedi! She had stated that several times while imprisoned and tried to convince the guards but they wouldn't take the bait and now she was stuck in the temple on Coruscant with Allyson Locke around. She hadn't spoken to Allyson, nor had she let Allyson know that she was here, just spotted her friend when taking a walk and hid away to avoid being spotted and having to interact with her. Things were still raw for Kat and she still loved Allyson with all her heart so she wasn't sure how to move on when all she wanted to do was spend time with her and hang out.

She had decided that she needed to escape. Taking a leaf out of Amea Virou 's book, Kat decided that the system was fethed and that trying to do the right thing and stay or try and appeal her case was no good, she needed to get the hells out of here and leave GA space. For now, hopefully some day things will be easier and she won't be hindered by the GA in the future but right now, her connection to the Force was preventing her from doing what she wanted while part of the GA and she couldn't lose her connection to the Force so it was easier to part from the GA and find work elsewhere. Perhaps on the fringe worlds or the planets that weren't part of a faction. She also had to note that where Allyson was, she would always be close by, no matter what she would always be there for Allyson. She owed too much to the Jedi and couldn't ignore the connection they shared. Something that had only deepened for Kat after their sparring match.

However, how was she going to escape? Things were locked down tight and there was no way to just walk out the door and onto her ship. She couldn't even communicate with M1-NI to come pick her up in the fighter so she could sneak out of the temple and onto the ship. She needed a plan. She also needed to tell Allyson that she was leaving, it was only fair that her friend knew and that she also knew that even though Kat was leaving GA, she wasn't abandoning Allyson and would be there as quickly as she could if Allyson needed her. All she had to do was contact Kat. If that was something that Allyson wanted to do.

Grabbing her duffel bag of clothes and her Lightsaber pike, she knew where Allyson's room was, so she could meet her there and say it in person. This felt like a goodbye you say in person. Yeah, she wouldn't just drop a message, way too impersonal. As soon as she stepped out of her room, things changed, she could feel the shift in the Force. Darkness. The Sith. How did the Sith get here? This deep in GA space and at the capital was there no patrol stopping them?! Kat groaned, the Jedi all at one location ready to be killed in a single blow, this was clearly history just heavily repeating itself. How were they going to recover from this? While she was concerned about the people here, another thought crossed her mind, this fight would be the perfect chance to flee. The commotion, the chaos, no one would notice Kat Decoria missing and if they did, they could think she was just dead.

Being claimed dead wasn't a terrible thought, would stop the GA from hunting her down for fleeing. However, she also knew that she couldn't just dip out while all the fighting was going on, she had to take part. Had to help people around here since most of them were just innocent people getting caught up in a terrible politic scheme. Igniting her Lightsaber pike, the green saber glowed brightly in her hand as she moved forward. Where to go? And could she contact M1-NI? Tapping her comms, she was able to get in touch with her droid.

"Mini, get on the fighter and bring it over here to the Jedi Temple, we are getting out of here as soon as we can. Gotta help out the NJO with the Sith but after that, we are gone from here. Keep safe and don't do anything I would do!" Kat stated as the droid muttered on about where she was and that it had told her coming back here was a big mistake. Mini was always grumpy about having to stay anywhere too long, he was saying her own frustrations out loud which was nice to hear from time to time. So, where to start helping people? She could look for Allyson but in all this chaos, she figured that would be impossible, no she was better off focusing on those that she could and just send a message to Allyson later. Maybe a video one so that it felt like Kat was there to say goodbye for now... Escaping places was hard!​

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

Allies: Caltin Vanagor , Allyson Locke , DECEASED Erskine Barran Dagon Kaze Rurik Fel
Immediate Ally: Zark San Tekka
Opponent: Halketh

​

For the last week Cotan hadn't felt comfortable in his own skin.

It had started back after the festivities on Galidraan; it was as though something had shifted, something had clicked into place, on a scale beyond his mortal flesh and bones. His kyber-melded sword, the crystals in his lightsaber, and the ancient one he had been carrying all seemed vibrate and shift with it, and every time he tried to meditate all he could hear was the foreboding hum the crystals filled his mind with. When he slept, it wasn't much better; but given he'd never been granted the gift of true prescience on the scale of someone like Asmundr Varobalder or the like, he couldn't make heads or tails of the constant worry that was gnawing at his bones.

It wasn't even like Csilla, or Lao-Mon, or any other world subject to destruction or genocide. Those were more easy to recognize, they were loud, immediate changes in the turbulence of the Force surrounding him. This was different. It was quiet, it was subtle, akin to the static in the air before lightning was to strike.

Worst of all, it felt familiar.

A feeling that only grew once he learned how the New Jedi Order had been confined to the temple on Coruscant, per order of the Senate, despite the attack on Jakku. It was that, more than anything, that drove him to follow along in his own ship once he heard from Erskine how Rurik, with a New Imperial delegation, was going to Coruscant to make plans for what was next among the member states of the Bastion Protocols. He'd grown to accept that none of the Jedi would ever listen to him when he tried to tell them how getting too entangled with the government was a bad idea for everybody involved, but he couldn't just leave them to languish; no, he flew in with the goal of starting to gradually evacuate members out of the temple.

Such it was that he'd landed in a small smuggler's hangar in the lower levels that he'd visited multiple times as a Padawan, making his way to a relatively near entrance to the warren of tunnels below the temple—the exact method he'd always used to make his way to the illicit location. "I'll be back soon, Kiss," he told his droid. "Don't worry about me." Of course, he took all his weaponry anyways, blasters included. You could never be too careful. That was the same reason he'd shared the coordinates of the shadow hangar with Erskine.

Just in case anything bad happened.

But with every step towards the temple he took, evading the guards along the main routes in the maze of tunnels, the sense of foreboding and familiarity both only grew stronger, and he could feel his skin crawling. Something, even after so many years charging headlong into the face of mystery and danger, still trying to tell him to turn back, to leave, to save himself. A voice he'd never listened to.

He'd eventually made his way into the temple, made his greetings to some of the ones there that he recognized, although he had yet to run into anybody he truly knew. He could barely even feel their presences in the temple, with the way the darkness seemed to blanket over everything, and the constant buzzing of static reaching greater and greater heights in his mind. Soon after, the pull, beyond his own choice of where to go. He'd never felt it as powerfully as Asha made it seem, that draw from the Force to some pivotal moment. It always seemed to happen when he was already close to some event that either was going to happen or needed to happen, not grabbing him from across the galaxy to tell him of some special event in a system he'd never even heard of, like she dealt with.

But he could feel it here, and he hadn't even been in the temple an hour.

Slowly, as though in a trance, he began to walk towards the great hall, trying to push past the mental noise he was dealing with to figure out what was going on—only for the tension to break in an instant, the immediate realization of what had happened the last time he felt that pull here on Coruscant consuming his mind instead. Every Jedi near him seemed to stop in the tracks, turning in the direction of the main gate in confusion, and worry. For his part, Cotan finally sped up, curses flying from his lips with every bounding stride. "Follow me!" he commanded of any who still had presence of mind to listen, and spurred on by his urgency, they began to run as well.

He could already hear their commlinks going off, first Dagon's voice, then an AI he didn't know, and after that Allyson Locke. Worse, he could feel the mass that was making its way up the steps. Without even looking he stretched out a hand, a commlink flying from one of the Jedi he passed into his hand. "Allyson, this is Cotan! Route them through the tunnels to the exit nearest Chaleb's old smuggling hangar—you know the place, I'm sure of it—and make sure whoever's leading them has coordinates for the hangar specifically. My boat's the only one parked there, and my astromech knows the deal for running evacuations like this." Without waiting for a response, he threw the commlink at another Jedi, hoping they caught it, before activating the one on his bracer.

"Erskine, I don't know what's happening over there, but if things aren't hot yet, they're going to be soon. If your ride out is already FUBAR, try and get your people to my ship. There'll be younglings coming too—if they haven't arrived yet, hold down the fort and send a party to try and escort them there, and you all can burn sky with Kiss out of here. I'll find my own exit strategy." Hopefully Erskine was still alive to hear that, but there was no time to wait for a response. He reached forward, blasting a pair of doors open, and leaped down into the great hall just as he saw Dagon Kaze leaping from the other side.

Just as he landed, he saw Zark San Tekka moving towards the entrance, even as other Jedi around him started to engage the marauders running into the temple. Cotan raised his Bryar pistol, and a pair of warriors with more fervor than sense fell, holes burned through their heads and chests before they were able to bring their blades to bear on the Padawans they'd cornered. Satisfied for the moment, he turned, leaping again through the air—

—And landing right next to Zark, blaster already sheathed and Force-Imbued Sword already drawn, icy blue glow meeting pure white amid the sea of blood red. Cotan looked to the mask of the one that he and the elder master stood against, and set his jaw grimly. "Well, Halketh, fancy meeting you here," he greeted, adopting a defensive position to match Zark's. "Tavlar not enough for you?" He'd never met the Miraluka directly, but the voice was easy enough to recognize with how often he found himself among the New Imperials that Darth Caelitus had betrayed not long prior, and how many of the recordings and transmissions he'd heard.

Well, Irveric, Erskine, I guess this one's for the two of you, too.

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

SENATE BUILDING // CORUSCANT

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

“Control, Seven-Nine, status zero, level 5 north corridor. Bursar is TA, repeat Bursar is TA.”
“Seven-Nine, Control, received. Cresh Trill are on en route, ETA two minutes.”
“Control, Seven-Nine, acknowledged.”

“Stay down sir, you’re doing great.”

A firm hand fell on Aerarii Tithe’s shoulder, encouraging him to sit back down.

It had all happened so fast. Moments ago he’d been in a conference room, enjoying a robust discussion with the signatures to the Bastion Protocols. The continued campaign by the marauding Brotherhood of the Maw and their recent string of victories had brought the allies to Coruscant to decide on a path forward. While the mission statement - the destruction of the Sith - remained the same, the shareholders had changed. The Ashlan Crusade sat where the First Order had, and most governments had a new head. Tithe had never thought he would miss dealing with Irveric Tavlar .

With the posturing out of the way, the real negotiations had only just begun as the first klaxon had sounded. Respective close protections teams had filed into the room to extract the heads of state. Tithe had offered protection to the representatives, though most had elected to take up arms against the invading Brotherhood.

More the fools them.

Tithe’s close protection team had hurried him toward the nearest exit only to be cut off by Brotherhood pillagers. One by one the brave Senate guards had laid down their life, holding the line in the narrow Senate corridors to give the Vice Chancellor more time to escape. Only a handful remained.

On advice that their exits were cut, the team had ushered him into an empty office to bunker down. Furniture had been overturned to create makeshift barricades, with Tithe secreted in the corner behind an overturned table. A contract stream of screams and blaster shots rang out from the hallway as the bodyguards did everything they could to keep the enemy at bay.

“Sir, the CAT are on their way,” explained the lead protection officer as he crouched down next to the Vice Chancellor. “Two minutes sir, then we’re out of here.” Tithe could only nod in reply. His close protection team were lightly armed and tasked to move quickly to get him to safety. In contrast, the heavily armed and armoured counter-assault team were the ones trained and equipped to actually engage enemy combatants. They were pinned down until the big guns arrived.

Until then, he just needed to stay hidden and avoid danger. Not exactly a first for the Aargauun.

But this time felt different.

Staying out of trouble when he’d invaded an enemy-occupied planet or join a delegation to a contested region was part and parcel of the job. Risk and reward, hedge your bets on the open market. But for the enemy to strike at the heart of Coruscant without warning spoke to a much graver threat. What chance did he and half a team of protectors with almost depleted blaster pistols have against the Brotherhood when they could waltz onto the jewel of the Alliance unannounced?

 

[Tegan Starfall]

Post: 1
Objective: Blood in the Water
Location: Rhand, Ruins of the Gehinnom
Allies: Dakrul
Enemies: Galactic Alliance | Elpsis Kerrigan | Ingrid L'lerim

Single file one by one dressed in their black robes they marched across the broken land. Long had Rhand been the world where the dark gave them vision of things to come. The Dark that sought the end of all things wanting the universe to be returned to the state of entropy the purest state of Chaos. All the figures sought their end to be returned to the fires of entropy from which all things were born. This world was their holy ground to where the three the Kanzer Exile’s those that enslaved the mind, The Knell of Muspilli those that carried the holy book the Taurannik Codex to call upon the gods of destruction, and the Warriors of Shadow sisterhood of Taung that followed the true way of Mandalorians came together her to form the sorcerers of Rhand.


One by one single filed nearly a thousand they marched towards the Fallen holy city of Maws remains. As they moved in line, they chanted out the calls of the dark.

“Only power is real, and the only real power is the power to destroy. Existence is fleeting. Destruction is eternal.”​

Over and over, they proclaimed out loud to the Gods of destruction and Rhand itself. As they came to the city began to encircle it’s remains, chaining hands together still proclaiming their faith to Dark itself. One alone broke away from the group and moved in wards towards the cities remains. The figure swept back her hood revealing her long blonde hair, and her painted face, painted like a skull. The woman who’s name was Abaddon was one of the elders of the Rhadite sorcerers, walked up to what was left of a reactor of the Holy city.


The device still radiated immense heat as it would for a very long time from now when most of the Rhandites gathered here today had faded to dust. Then she turned her back to the reactor and then reached into the folds of her dark robs and produced a heavy codex made of iron from it. As she did all the Rhandites encircling the holy cities remains dropped to there knees. Abaddons blue eyes looked upon those closest to her.


“Rhand has bled for us and made sacrifices for us. It was willing to die for us so we may teach the non-believers the truth of the Dark. Death is inevitable all things must perish the universe itself will return to a state of entropy. We will all burn in entropies flames and become one with the Dark the purest primordial power. The Power the God’s of destruction taught us all how to wield. “


As she said those words out loud but also touched the mind of every Sorcerer gathered, she brought up the codex and unlatched it so it could be open.


“We do not spare the dying, for death is inevitable. Yet the one we revive this day is not dead just trapped. The one we speak of declares themselves a God of Destruction, if that is the case then this book will call them forth.”


Abaddon opened the book then turned a few pages. As she did the Sorceress in the circle around the city began to chant. “We call upon the Dark.” As they did this dark energy began to surge between them as the Dark itself began to grant them it’s power. As they chanted to the dark a few more Sorcerers broke away from the circles with them was the twenty-four slaves Tegan had taken from Rhand on CIS’s invasion day.


Each of them was told to get on their knees and then handed a ceremonial dagger. On command the slaves cut the palm of their right hand and then turn there hand palm down so that they would bleed onto the glassed earth of Rhand. The Chant of the Sorcerers then changed. “We call upon Entropies fires.” As this chant went into place all of the sorcerers still in the circle tilted their heads up to the sky and as they did so Rhand’s sun began to shine brightly upon them anyone looking on would say they nearly glowed in the light.


Abaddon then began to read aloud from the Codex.


“Oh lords of destruction we invoke the power of the dark and the fires of entropy. Now we call out to you we ask your aid, we ask you to aid one of our flock.”


“Guide our Flock!” The Sorcerers proclaimed to the skies above.

“We ask you aid the one who has been anointed with Rhands gift. One who has become Rhand itself.”

“Sanctify Rhand!” The sorcerers Proclaimed as the knelt their heads to the ground.


“This one Is a destructive force unlike any other and claims to have feasted at your table oh lords of destruction. If she is one of yours Aid her so she may continue the work of the Darks Whispers.”


“Lords of Destruction hear our pleas.” They once aid raised up to the skies and as they did the sun began to be blotted out and cold darkness swept across the area. A pure cold darkness began to set to wear no sorcerer could see the one next to them but could still feel their hand in the chain. A heavy cold wind whipped around Abaddon as voice spoke out in the darkness.

“Call The Name!​

Abaddon took a deep breath of the cold air and then boomed forth the name.

“Tegan Descendant of the Falling Star of the Demon Witch, Descendant of the Rebellious heart of Ice, One of Paecian blood, A Wolf of the Howling Crags, A Daughter of Allya master of heathen magicks, Dark Lord Sokar master of the heathen force, destroyer of worlds and many populace.”


Then there was silence and the dark dissipated as it did the twenty-four slaves were gone as was the remains of the Holy City. In the Place of the Holy city now stood a new Bone Temple. The Sorcerer’s stared at it perplexed at for moment but then something beckoned them in, and they all began to follow. Abaddon was the first to reach the inner sanctum as they did words were scrawled across one of the for walls.

Your Words were Heard, her soul has been freed her test has begun if she can once more pull herself from the Nether then she will be anointed one of the worthy.​

 

[Shade of Decay]

Reaching out with the dark side, next to the Jedi as he came closer to the door. He felt someone, someone he thought long since dead. Someone that truly had frightened him. His body visibly shook, as he struggled to enter inside the temple. "No! It can't be him! Not here, not now when the moment of triumph is at hand." He spoke in a mixture of fear, and anger as he slowly entered into the inner halls of the Temple where the chaos was well underway. The time for another Jedi Purge had come. ​

​

Chaos was the most apt word for what was occurring. Blade meeting blade, emotions running high, and already the scent of death in the air. A wave of darkness, crashing against the Jedi shore, aiming to swell into a tsunami of pain and hatred before the night was over. The Dark Side grew strong in such circumstances, and the Force ever seemed close to the touch at the Jedi Temple, a constant suffusion of energy that few places in the galaxy could boast to match. And with the wave of darkness that was the New Sith Order, a smaller cloud of shadow came, taking in the surroundings, drinking from the power that was released, but hunting one specific individual.

The cloud covered that individual like a cloak, wrapping him in a soft, protective caress as he made his way up the steps and into the temple proper. The fear was understandable, but unnecessary. Hush, my spawn, it seemed to say, speaking to the very depths of his mind. The black blood that ever boiled within his veins would relax, brought to peace by its creator even if the beast's mind could not be so easily calmed. You should be happy to know I'm here, that I'm watching you. After all...

t̶̛͔̠̻̺̳͊̋̀͜h̷̡̧̰͓̩̰̯͍͌̔̄̽i̴̡̨͉̖̬͋͒͑͂s̸̪̦̘̤̼̈́̃͋̈́͜͠ ̸̢̤͉̥̭̦̈̆̈́͛̂̊͌͜ͅī̴͖̭͎͗͑̈s̷͔̲̩̐̍̌͌͠ ̷͈͇̙̣̋̽̀͆͜w̶̨͎͔͑̿ͅḥ̵̜̖̤͖̐̄͐̂͂̕͜ͅâ̸̢̦̗̭͔ṭ̶̇ ̴̫͚͇͚̺͉̩̳͛̊̓̓̍͘͘͠ÿ̶̡͓͓̙̗́̐̒̈̌͘͘o̵̝͖̫̯̦̔̽u̵͇͚̼̯͇͉̿͘ ̸̢̛̦̖̞͌̏͑̈́̾̆͠ẁ̸̜̫͕͙̪͎̪͜͠e̷̪̖̰̜͌̂̀̎́r̷̨̛̖̂̆̐̚͝ê̷̮͝ ̶̜̘̠̤̼̩̊̈́́͗̐̆͘͝m̶̪̞͂ȁ̸̟̠̝̠̱̝̹̫̌̏͝͝d̴̞̖͚̻͈͂̇̉̐̓͘͜ͅẻ̷͖̻̱̖͌̈́̽̏͋̋͜ ̴̭̗͑͠f̶̘̱̣͖͓̺̓o̸̘̯̅͌̒r̶͕̙̼͚͍͑͜
​

The presence within the beast's mind withdrew somewhat, leaving his thoughts alone for the moment. But from the cloak of shadow that surrounded him—the cloak that turned away those who sought to attack him, who sought to destroy its child, this cloak which turned them away by twisting their stomachs and burning their lungs with a pestilence that only the child was immune to—came an undeniable pull, drawing the beast-child away from the center of the battle, towards a different door.

Towards b̵̛̤̹̤̙̻͔̻ͅe̵̡̢̯͉̖͓̟̊͊̅̀͜͠l̷̠̬̖̳̐͒ở̷̡͎̙͎͙͑͛̏͐̔̃ẅ̴̤̯̫̜̖́̎̂̐͑̇̃.

 

[Henna Ashina]

let the sky fall
Inosuke Ashina

​

"Inosuke, no!"

The statement came just after her gaze had flickered between himself and his walking aid. Filled with fierceness, she glanced to the children, who's eyes had been drawn by the statement. When she spoke again, her tone was lower.

"I've only just gotten-" She stopped herself, mouth twisting as she wrestled with duty. "You're still recovering- it would be a death sentence!"

Anxiety settled in the lines of her face as she pleaded with him to see reason. The boldness of such an attack could only conclude overwhelming numbers on the part of their assailants.

"One man can't stop an army." She stated, tempering her words this time. "It would be foolish to think otherwise. It likely won't even buy us enough time."

She stepped closer, eyes full of turmoil. I've only just gotten you back. The thought finally broke through, emotion refusing to allow obligation it's due uninfluenced. A hand floated to caress his cheek.

"Please, come with us. I won't be able to protect them alone if we run into trouble. We need to get them off-world, to the safehouse on Tython... please."

 

[Phalsi Drynchen]

BUT SATISFACTION BROUGHT IT BACK

Objective: Save the demon spawn

Equipment: Under-Armor, Clothes-The look, The Mask, Just in Case Cloak, Scope- on belt, Wrist Device, Slicing/Gaming Tool, The Encoil, Zerek Stowaway Node, ICE/iBorg Clarion Personal Translator
Weapons: Four Zenji Needles, Pair of Blue Lightsabers, Hard Light Weapon, Pair of Shock Whips
Ship: Sanguine Tempest
Tags: Dagon Kaze | Yula Perl | Allyson Locke | Finley Dawson | Travot Ravenna | Zorah Cinsilo​

The pair of sith before her had not given her any breathing room to work. Trained well in working as a team as they pushed to keep her off balance. Something she allowed as memories of catching training sticks to the hand and face by her Mistryl trainers swam below the surface.

They had pushed as well, making her acclimate to fighting at a disadvantage as all Mistryls were to be prepared.

They fought alone, on clandestine jobs with little more backup than a well wishing message signed with good luck. Seldom did they need luck. Their minds made to keep pace with a shifting battlefield that never favored the odds for them. Giving false confidence to an enemy before them, believing they held the advantage.

Which made them all the more deadly in a fight.

She had been playing along, learning the patterns of their teamwork. Watching their footwork as she parried and dodged. Letting them creep into her space and push her backwards away from the younglings.

They had kept close, denying her the use of her second weapon. The whip handle was idle in her main hand, the reel keeping the extending cord and wires wound inside for the time being as she waited for the last flow of their pattern to follow through. The attacker came in, sweeping wide as the defender came to the outside on the attackers left, hoping to catch her between the blades as they swung with force.

She lurched forward, ducking low to the ground in a roll as the rapier caught the leg of the attacker as she passed inside both of them. The edge of a real blade might have simply smacked them.

It wasn't a lightsaber, but the marring of their shin plate had the sith sharply drawing the leg up and interrupting the motion they were in.

The defender dropped a leg, intending to cut her off as the red blade swung up sharply in their hand. She pressed the handle in her main hand, letting the rapiers edge glance and the hilt relax in her hand to keep it from wrenching out of her grasp.

The reel let loose mid roll, her mask visible for a split second to the defender over head as she pushed off the ground with a shoulder, altering her path as the red blade sang and sizzled in the ground where she had been. Her cloak caught the worst of it as she twisted in her tucked roll, the end of the whip slapping across the wall before the sharp twist of her arm had it signing along the other wall and across the defenders wrists.

Another press of the handle had power surging through the cord, electricity crackling through the length as the defenders body tensed sharply while the attacker bounced off the wall and regained their footing.

She pushed in, rapier loosely held as the untazed sith met her charge. The whip handle was dropped, power still surging as two seconds passed slowly.

Hand freed, it grasped the bottom of the hilt as the off hand flicked forward with leverage applied behind it. The red blade sailing off into the wall as Phalsi shifted her right foot in, locking their outer leg before the rapier was pressed into the plate of their belly and pressed upward.

It skittered off plates before finding purchase in a gap. The underarmor not able to deflect the point as it pressed through and out the collar of the attacker. Five seconds passed, the defender now smoking beside them as the attacker coughed and shook.

"You put up a good fight." She shrugged, shutting the blade off and letting them struggle to remain standing on their own.

"Theres more...of us. You'll die here...jedi." he hissed, the red blade vanishing as the hand pressed against the wall. A trail of crimson staining the front of their armor.

"Yeah. Probably. But gonna get a bunch of you before then." She remarked quietly, snatching up the whip after ten seconds had passed. The smell of something awful had baked into the hallway. The crackling of electricity silenced suddenly as she glanced at the attacker, slouched against the wall.

"I'm sorry." She remarked quietly, watching their helmet turn up toward while her hand pressed the hilt into a seam on their chest.

"I go in glory, filth."

The weapon snapped the life, a sharp gasp before a relieved sigh passed their lips as she shut off the blade. Her hands ached, her legs burned, and she was sweating beneath the mask as she caught the tail of some information on the comms.

A smear of voices as she caught her breath. A landing pad to the south. The southeast she corrected herself. Someone smoothing out the system. Her eyes narrowed at the voice that spoke, her gaze wandering over the corridor briefly in wonder.

The voice sounded familiar, a memory of something past that had shaken her into a steadfast practice. A voice that beckoned the light and dark in equal measure. But where had she...shaking her head of the distraction, she focused on the now. A mental tally went up of how many lives she would inform the sisters she had snuffed out in battle, and silently hoped they would understand the need to do so.

She picked up the enemy lightsabers, denying anyone else the parts before she ran down the hallway after the traveling group. She listened intently as she passed, keying the comm line as she went. She hoped her encryption system was working properly, and ill feeling passing through her slowly.

<"This is Phalsi Drynchen, Knight Sentinel of the Silver Jedi. Headed to evac position and tailing a group of younglings. I'll try sending them on the right path but they might be a bit scatter brained." She called back over the line, not closing it completely as she twitched her cheek and squinted.

The facial capture system caught the sign, engaging her datapad link as she began to sync up to the system AI.

<<"Arthur, right? Hey, gimme a layout of the doors between here and the southeast pad. We don't need uninvited guests cutting in.">> She spoke into her comm line, receiving a wary greeting in kind. There was brief exchange between them, a quick dive by the AI bringing to question their standing among the Silvers.

<<"Look here, just because those are questionable systems doesn't mean I was going to use them on you. Gotta be prepared in my line of work. I am asking instead of trying to fight you, alright?">> She snapped at the pointed ping to her subroutine programs that were hot keyed into certain triggers.

 

[Eina L'lerim-Vandiir]

Eina L’lerim-Vandiir, the First | (AC)
Princess of the Eternal Empire and Terraris; Angelic mascot and representative of the Ashlan Crusade
Matriarch of the Valkyrja; Leader of Sanctuary; Liaison of the Fjölkyngi Smiðr Guild​

Location: Senate Building
Objective II.: Bastion Accords Besieged
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (weapons) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Allies:: Geiseric
Enemies:: Darth Tennacus | Darth Senthral

[ Angels Calling ]
<"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Eina did misunderstand Geiseric, but in her defence let it be said the communication of the mortals was still strange to her, and well, the man was the same like her, he didn't have too much proficiency in this. The woman was accustomed to continuous communication mainly through her telepaths and emotions because the Valkyrja used this. She knew all the members of her people, but the mortals had secrets and often they did not say or do what they really thought. However, the attack was not like that, it was already spoken in her language.

~ The city has countless lower levels that can be safe! There must be secret tunnels and flights in the building. ~ she said more precisely what she thought, there were also escape routes at home.

She followed the man; as Eina saw that the man was about to deal with the vehicle, she raised a shield to this room with telekinetics. Who knows if they will be shot. The woman also spread her hands and wings. However, the vehicle crashed beneath them, and the windows broke here as well. But at least they didn't hurt anyone because of the woman's shield. She looked at the city, saw more armies arriving like an invasion fleet. The wind was blowing hard, catching her long red hair and feathers on her wings. It would feel like the wind wanted to pull her out of here.

As Geiseric stepped back, so did the woman, though Eina had not yet taken out a gun. She was primarily a sorcerer, that is, as long as she was able to remotely handle a situation, so she did. The Valkyrja listened to the sounds, already thinking of a war plan in her mind. She may have tried to avoid fighting in the Realspace because she was constantly fighting in the Netherworld, but she was a great warrior and warlord. The duty, yes. She didn't look at the man, just nodded; where they came from, the floor was too damaged and so was the structure of the building.

"You're right, let's go. We have to find a different way than where we came from, it’s no longer safe anymore." she said. Ironically, whatever she had to fight, she was not afraid of these, she never felt fear from any fight, battle; but she was afraid to look into the mortal's eyes because she was afraid that the man, a friend, would think of her as a monster. And if Geiseric thinks so, how can she expect any better thoughts from others?

She walked past the crusader, sadly, her head down, then continued down the hall. Eina heard screams, shots, shouts. To where they went, they were even louder. At the end of the corridor was a corner, followed by a short new corridor followed by a larger interior, lounge, resting hall. The Maw’s people were already here, at least a dozen and the same number of dead lying on the ground while another dozen were still trying to escape…

 

[Inosuke Ashina]

Ashina's Crisis
Henna Ashina

---

---

​

"One man can't stop an army."

"You seem to be keeping some traditions anyways, Manslayer. That's what they call you, right? Why?"

The hand not occupied with Inosuke's cane gingerly removed Henna's from his face. "Listen to me," he insisted with all the intensity of an unfaltering statue. Empathic senses would detect that he was feeling something, but his demeanor exhibited little beyond austerity. Ships soared overhead, buffeting the courtyard with a strong gust of wind. It let credence to his words, "You are more capable than you know, but you will not make it off-world." The statement was spoken as factual rather than an observation born from any lack of confidence.

"Find the others, go beneath," he reiterated firmly. Not that he really had any authority to instruct a Master, but they both knew who among the two of them better understood these situations. He wouldn't insist if it would put their wards in extra inordinate danger. Inosuke understood the limits of his secret pupil, and felt a certainty that she could succeed. How this all ended, though, was too clouded by the very machinations that forced it to fruition.

"I am not one-hundred percent, but I can handle it." Inosuke's tone punctuated the statement in such a way that anyone would be hard pressed to contend. Though, he knew Henna would likely try regardless. "Disagreement is not a luxury time will afford us. You must go. Quickly."

"I will be right behind you."

ASHINA CLAN​

 

[Anja Doreva]

ALLIES: BOTM | NSO
ENEMIES: GA | NJO | SJC | NIO | AC | Any other Jedi-huggers
ENGAGING: Aeris Lashiec | Kai Bamarri
GEAR:

Spoiler

Lightsabers
Force-imbued dual Phrik Blades
Phrik dagger
Dressed to kill
Company of Legion of Bone among which is the Ash Hellions - All led by General Samron Gerron
The Fortuna in orbit

O~~>RIVER OF FIRE<~~O​

It was personal.

The messenger from Exegol did not have to invite the Lady of Conquest twice. Her moment of weakness on Korriban had been just that - a moment of weakness, and her pride had been bruised as a result. So the Legion of Bone had been rallied and the Fortuna had taken flight along with the Mawite forces in order to ensure sheer and utter destruction of the forces of Light.

Danika stood on the bridge as her men prepared to follow the Mawite and New Sith forces to the surface, her face dark and vengeance burning bright within her. She would hit the heart of the Jedi. She was coming to Coruscant as she promised Dagon Kaze that day - just not in the capacity the desperate fool expected.
"Mistress, we are ready." the great Falleen General, Samron Gerron said from behind her.
The corner of Danika's mouth pulled slightly. "Then let's go." she said as she turned to face him.
"We'll see you on the surface then." he said with a slight incline of his head.
"No. I think I'll be joining you this time on the way down." she said, her voice cold and carrying a hint of the sound of the Abyss.
Samron could not hide the surprise on his face. "As you command, my Lady." he said after a heartbeat, sticking to formality for the moment - the tone of her voice not lost on him.
The duo descended to the hangar where they joined the Legion of Bone in the dropships.

The company of Bone Legionnaires had swept through the Temple like a wildfire, bolstered by the power of their Warlord and their own dread-helms that heralded doom to those who laid eyes on them.

On the hunt for one in particular, Danika and Samron met up with their men where they were hammering at some doors.
"What is behind?" she asked as she watched them trying to break through the doors.
"According to the prints we have, this is the library, Mistress." Samron answered as he looked at the print displayed on the HUD of his dread-helm.
"Oooh, information. That would be gold." Danika gushed as a sinister smirk spread on her face. "Move aside, gentlemen. Allow me." she told her men.

They adhered instantly, moving aside to allow the Lady of Bone to pave the way for them. With a flick of her fingers, Danika flung open the doors with just a little bit of the Force, sending desk and shelves and chairs flying in all directions.

Without ceremony, the Herald of Death glided into the vast chamber, her men following.
"Now, darlings, that is no way to receive guests." she told the two Jedi that stood by their lonesome in the room. "I do feel insulted by Jedi hospitality." Drawing on the bottomless depths of the Nether, she flicked a hand forward, unleashing destruction in the direction of the two where they were standing in front of the holoscreen.

Darth Halōsis - the one who took by storm - unleashed her vengeance.

 

[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: Near to the Senate, 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 | Open

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

Waiting, waiting, waiting! I swear it was the worst of it all. Towards the end, I had already asked MANIAC to have some music in my head. It also took at least a few minutes. One of the songs was just interrupted when the AI indicated I had an incoming call from The Mongrel . At the best time possible, it was time! Of course I answered the call, after all, he was my commander.

<< Warlord! Your voice is music to my ears! >> I said.

That was even true, if he hadn’t caught Ziare on Carlac, chances are I wouldn’t exist. So what was a disaster for the original owner of my body is the jackpot for me! Targets; Yes. luckily I was able to move pretty well in the city, I got into a lot of places so I did a thorough job. It was time to impress him.

<< Yes, warlord! Delegates from various factions have already arrived on the planet, the majority are now in the Senate building, their people, family members, and attendants are in the 500 Republica. In addition, I carried out further reconnaissance. There are also a lot of civilians in the museum district and around the Opera House. Countless possible new slave-soldiers if they survive. I checked the official and secret passages to the lower levels, the ones that can be used in an emergency. Most are closed or life-threatening. They did not expect an attack. They will be trapped at the top level. I will transfer the selected points and data now! >> I said, and then I sent the maps to the Warlord with the marked points and routes.

As soon as I got the alert about the file to arrive for the man, I still wanted to continue. I didn't know this from MANIAC, he stamped it as confidential information, after all, the biochip and he was HPI technology, too, and that is in the hands of the L'lerims.

<< And there's something else, Warlord. I had a little extra time and looked it up at nearby company executives as well. The Maw may want to kidnap them to get more assets. While I was busy with this, I found out something. The Eternal Empress is also here in the political and business district as an individual… >> I added.

I didn’t know if he could make use of the information or start something with it, it was now Mongrel’s business. I was more interested in something else…

<< I'm waiting for your permission, Warlord, to take my share of the fun! >> a mocking, predatory smile appeared on my lips, I was hoping he would let me do that…

 

[Culas Vile]

NIV Squalor
Coruscant Orbit
Operation: Iron Throne
New Imperials: Karlist Rax | Gallius Orcana | Albrecht F. Herlock
Galactic Alliance: Atlas Drake | Constantine Oliva | Qellene Tyliame
Maw: Marlon Sularen | Aldo Garrick

The doors slid open before Lieutenant Culas Vile, revealing the bridge to him. As the officer stepped on deck, the bridge personnel halted, stood and saluted respectfully. "Captain on deck!" called out the first person to lay eyes on the Lieutenant. Vile returned the salute and dropped it, prompting the rest to drop theirs as well.

"Carry on." Vile ordered. The bridge returned to their duties. He noticed the holoprojector's indicator was illuminated. He walked over to it and pressed a button upon the console. Before him, the hologram image of Karlist Rax appeared. Vile received his orders. He would be on the offensive once the counterattack began.

"Aye, sir. It will be done." Vile responded. He pressed the button upon the console one more time, causing the hologram to disappear. He returned his attention to the bridge, looking out of the viewport of the destroyer. As ordered, Vile awaited further orders as he remained in a defensive position. He could see the corvettes forming up alongside him, ready to strike on his order.

 

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Coruscant, High Orbit
Foes: Gallius Orcana | Qellene Tyliame | Karlist Rax | Constantine Oliva | Relynia Sorrene | Culas Vile
Allies: Marlon Sularen | Aldo Garrick | Isabella Pavan

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Tu'teggacha and his fleet arrive above Coruscant
• They cautiously hold back from a major attack, awaiting allies
• Mawite fighters establish a cordon for shuttles traveling to the surface
• Mawite Samael-class frigates unleash ion fire on the attacking NIO ships

Tu'teggacha the Taskmaster was a creature of many vices - selfishness, sadism, lust for power - but greed was not among them. He did not partake of the plundered riches divided up among the Brotherhood's marauders, and he did not seize trophies from his victims. He placed far more value on sensations than possessions. What physical thing could possibly compare to the satisfaction of completely shattering a sentient being's mind, breaking down their defenses and leaving behind a drooling wreck - one ripe for reshaping into whatever you desired? What treasure could match the ecstasy of drinking in the sense of power that came with causing mass suffering? No object could match such pleasures.

But as he glanced down at the glittering corusca gem below, resplendent against the darkness of space, he felt a surge of possessiveness. Here was a treasure beyond measure, a place that had been the center of galactic civilization for tens of thousands of years, persisting in its incalculable value across the rise and fall of a dozen governments and more. Tu'teggacha sensed the thrum of life down there, teeming beyond anything he had encountered even among the most populated worlds of the Unknown Regions... and now filled with fear as hostile ships once more darkened the planet's skies. He drank in that fear, and he knew that the misery to come would be glorious. It would be as rich as fine wine.

The secret hyperlane known as the Path of the Mystics, once a holy Jedi route that connected some of their most important worlds, had been corrupted into doing the Brotherhood's grim work. With his powerful connection to the Force, Tu'teggacha had been able to guide the Mawite fleet along the hidden path once he knew its location, and hundreds of Heathen Priests had aided him in shepherding the massive attack fleet that had emerged behind the fortified Alliance border at Metellos. This was the great marauder fleet they had been building since the attack on Csilla, the one they had held in reserve through so many other desperate battles, waiting for this very moment. Long years had gone into those preparations.

Now they were unleashed at last, poised to rain holy destruction on the enemy heartland.

Of course, they were far from unopposed. The various fleets of the Bastion Pact were here, taking up their positions high above the planet they aimed to defend. Tu'teggacha sensed old enemies among them: dogged Gallius Orcana, who had nearly destroyed the Fatalis over Csilla; brave Constantine Oliva, who had faced down Mawite superweapons on two separate occasions; clever Qellene Tyliame, one of the few survivors of the Divine Eagle ambush in the Csillan Belt. The NIO and Alliance were here in force, and full of both seasoned commanders and elite aces. Even the mighty fleet the Brotherhood had assembled would find it difficult to defeat all these champions, many of whom had considerable experience fighting the Mawites.

Of course, they were not here to invade Coruscant. They could never have held such as heavily-populated planet so deep in enemy territory, far beyond the reach of their supply lines. This was a one-time raid, for the road to it would be closed once the enemy discovered the secret of the Path of the Mystics. The Brotherhood was here to cause destruction and sow fear. Hidden among them, the New Sith Order was here to deal the New Jedi Order a crippling blow. All that was required today was fire and blood. If they left the city planet scarred and deformed, if they crushed the Jedi Temple and burned the senate building, they would spread terror through the Alliance. The people of Courscant - and beyond - would lose faith.

This was a dire warning to those who had dared push north, into the Unknown Regions.

At the lead of the Mawite fleet was the Fatalis, the flagship unleashed once more. Fully repaired, if scarred and asymmetrical, the fearsome Super Star Destroyer was launching squadron after squadron of fighters to escort the Brotherhood's attack shuttles down to the surface... and to engage in attack runs of their own. Star Destroyers and frigates came forth around it, forming a protective cordon. If Tu'teggacha - seated once again in the flagship's command chair - had learned anything from all the space battles in which he'd engaged, it was that the Fatalis became an immediate priority target for every enemy on the battlefield as soon as it appeared.

It would need protection to operate at its fullest capacity... and it would need allies as well.

"Where are Sularen, Garrick, and Pavan?" The Taskmaster demanded. "We must not advance too close without our allied fleets, or we will become exposed." By his command, the Mawites were initially cautious to an uncharacteristic degree, working to establish a cordon through which to transport shuttles to the ground but making no direct, aggressive move against the defending fleets massing to meet them. All guns were focused solely on any enemy starships that entered their range, trying to force them back with a barrage of ion and turbolaser fire, and had not yet begun to bombard the surface. That would only last so long, however.

The orbital autocannons of the Brotherhood hungered for Coruscani blood.

Within the cordon, Divine Eagles led Thornwaves and Doomsayers in hunting enemy fighters while swarms of Darkshears massed around the landing craft, protecting the shuttles by sacrificing their own hulls if necessary; the swarm fighters were specifically designed to be easily expendable. Elsewhere, a picket line of Samael-class frigates added heavy ion fire to the defensive barrage, aiming their attacks against the Proudheart and Pride of the Emperor - the NIO felt they had a great deal to be proud of, it seemed. Their goal: to steal the momentum of Orcana's attack before it could draw too close to the Fatalis. They wanted the flagship's guns unencumbered for the bombardment that would soon begin.

And they were waiting... waiting for an even greater Mawite weapon to be unleashed.

The World Devastators were coming to Coruscant.

Spoiler: Fleet Composition/Actions

Fatalis, a Fatalis-class Star Dreadnought	Launching fighters, firing defensively
Aeon's End, a Praetorian-class Star Destroyer	Launching fighters, firing defensively
Bonfire of Vanity, a Praetorian-class Star Destroyer	Launching fighters, firing defensively
Nightmare Eternal, a Praetorian-class Star Destroyer	Launching fighters, firing defensively
Forge of Laments, a Praetorian-class Star Destroyer	Launching fighters, firing defensively
Wrathborn, a Crucifix I-class Star Destroyer	Firing defensively
Oblivion Herald, a Crucifix I-class Star Destroyer	Firing defensively
Mournfang, a Crucifix I-class Star Destroyer	Firing defensively
Soulbreaker, a Crucifix I-class Star Destroyer	Firing defensively
Ten Samael-class Frigates	Firing on the Proudheart and Pride of the Emperor

 

[Aeris Lashiec]

Anja Doreva // Kai Bamarri

Patience. The tension hung in the air like a thundercloud above an empty field. She had heard the initial reports and knew exactly what day it was. Today was the day that the temple was razed, the day the senate got what they wanted, and the day that Aeris’ contingency would be put to the test.

One piece of data after the other streamed from endpoint to endpoint as every single file in the digital archives were sent to off-world servers through Jedi channels. It wasn’t exactly an optimal solution, comms being what they were, but it was the best that she could manage in such a small timespan. She gave the library roughly five minutes before it was attacked, at best, and fifteen before she had to run.

Not everything would make it. Data would be lost and data would get corrupted, but it was beter than having to start a library over from scratch. The physical copies of books and tomes were, sadly, a price that had been deemed less essential simply due to the logistical nightmare it would bring about. A few copies of texts had of course been taken off-world, but hardly as many as Aeris would have wished.

“What did Dagon s—”

The doors exploded wide open. Aeris pulled Kai behind her and threw up a barrier between them and the defenses-turned-projectiles. Darkness slowly began to engulf the room. The dust lingered but the immediate threat was taken care of. A depiction of pride itself, smug and smarmy, stepped into the room with a remark about hospitality.

Aeris placed her hands on her hips and merely observed this woman.

“Maybe if the Sith were a bit more open about the when and where of their travel plans there could have been some sort of welcome basket for you.” She said and carefully kept an eye on Kai. “Not that I count on someone who would rather kick in a door than talk things over to be so gracious.”

One quick glance on the upload, a tingle in the force. Another barrier lit up the room before Aeris as she took the brunt of the destruction and pain hurled towards them. She leaned into it, pushed against the tidal wave as it engulfed her and her companion.

“Kai, run!” Aeris exclaimed as the force began to die down. A groan rumbled in her throat as she let the shield go. Her hand hovered over the saber on her lower back. “I do not wish to do this, ma’am.”

“It is not too late. Turn back. Leave.”

 

[Khaostra Devoid]

Post: 1
Objective: Return to Planet Hell
Location: Coruscant Undercity, Orphanage
Equipment: Red Midnight Duster | Red Sith Armor | Sith Mask | Grav Boots | CrushGaunts | x2 White lightsabers | Forearm Lanvorak | Wrist Laser | Variety of Explosives | RSKF-44 heavy blaster | X-21 shock glove
Allies: The Maw
Enemies: Everyone That Isn't Maw
Special Tags: Open

Spoiler: Troops & Transport

Main:
6 - Surprises in the Crate
12 - Mawite Kitiakira Warband
24 - Mawite Deathgang

Reserve:
X50 Spider Cruisers (Defense and Evac Stand by)
10 - Heathen War Shamans
20 - Cirihut Warriors
75 - Mawite Kitiakira Warband
100 - Knyghts of the Maw
100- Scav Kings
200 - Mawite Deathgang
400 - Marauder Aspirants

​

A Deathgang member sitting on there speeder bike looked to Khaos who was leaning against a nearby wall staring out towards a building across the street. “Down here in dah under city so far from dah fightin, must be haten dis.” From what they had heard Khaos was becoming something of a war fiend. Tasted blood on Csilla and it only grew from their she was leading the Maw into wars that weren’t even their own like on Danuta. Khaos didn’t even return a glance to the Death gang member she just kept her gaze on the building in front of her.


She had two dozen deathgangers with her and a dozen Kitiakira placed in nearby building keeping and eye on the building across the street. Then there was a giant crate that gangers had dragged here with them and only Khaos knew what was inside. What ever it was, it was big and it made and sounds of metal clanking and what seemed like chanting also seemed to become from it. To Bad Braktus couldn’t be here I mean what was in the crate was his crown achievement, but she supposed it was more important he train more of what was in the crate.


“So when ya gunna tell us what in dis crate?” The Deathganger spoke up again pointing back at the huge thing. Finally, Khaos turned to him and gave him a slight smile but didn’t acknowledge the crate returning her sights to the orphanage across the street.


“I think we need to stir up a bit of trouble first and bring some attention to ourselves before I can reveal the surprise, I brought back with us from Danuta.”


With that Khaos stopped leaning on the wall and started to make herself across the street. This orphanage was prestigious for being the undercity a couple of well know individuals came from here Though Khaos didn't recognize any of these supposed famous peoples names. . Maybe the Maw would get someone special out of the lot who knew also these kids would get some of the best training to join the Maw ranks. As Khaos crossed the street she thought to herself it was something of a cliché at this point for a Dathomiri witch to steal kids from and orphanage and burn it to the ground.