Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Invasion The Other Side of Peace | GA Invasion of TSE's Ziost/Tiss'sharl


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Location: Orbital Defense Center, Ziost
Jax was on his knees continuing to cough up the sand and blood from his mouth his heart was beating rapidly. The Jedi gripped the handle of his Lightsaber as his now top half was now exposed to the elements. "Jairdain," Jax slowly got up wincing at the many cuts all over his body. "That doesn't mean that you have to thrust yourself into this!"​
He understood that Jairdain lost her husband but to put herself in danger for Jax is insane. She had a life, she had children, Jairdain couldn't just throw that away. Especially now that Pom knows that they were in love she'll take advantage of this just like she took advantage of he and Aveline Cuiléin Aveline Cuiléin back at Korriban. "And I pledged my life for you Jaidain." Jax whimpered still feeling the potion's side effects. "You have to get out of here Pom is stronger than before!"​
Turning to Pom, Jax saw her ranting about Spesa and an amulet? Jairdain mentioned something about Spesa giving an amulet to her closest friends before disappearing. Jairdain had one of them what was it about these amulets that's making Pom riled up? "Wait!" Jax turned to Jairdain who cut her palm with a knife offering the matriarchs a chance to bind herself with them. "What are you doing?!" Jax said. "Have you gone insane?!"​
He heard the force speaking to him, telling Jax to trust Jairdain like she trusted him. The Jedi sighed and activated his Lightsaber in case something goes wrong. "Which will inevitably happen." he thought bitterly.​

 
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Admiral Thrawn then orders "Prepare Base Delta Zero on the entire planet, that will wipe out the entire population, fear shall spread and the Empire will remember who is in control." The entire crew was shocked that she could give such an order but obeyed the order "Open Fire." They just couldn't do it, no matter how hard they tried. She then shoots an ensign to prove that she is not messing around not out of anger but a calculated risk. She then says sounding intimidating "Open fire" They then open fire on the entire planet trying to incinerate the population just as Sith Emperor Vitiate did millennia ago.
 

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T H E _ W O L F
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
104th MARINE BATTALION 'WOLFPACK'
STRIKE TEAM 'SKYWALKER'
Armor [ 104th Skin ] | Concord Brawn |
Lightsaber
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PAIN IS AN ILLUSION

The tide grew stronger, the tension grew heavier. The two Mandalorian Jedi joined up in their barrier. It was a horrid clash, the energy he exerted into the shield offsetting what he'd reserve to control the pain of his nulled limb. That searing sensation came to the forefront of his mind before he honed in more on that barrier he formed around them.

The pain was an illusion. It always was.

Not merely in the physical wounds that so deeply wrought his mortal shell, in the agony that enveloped his psyche. That feeling of loss, isolation. That horrid sever of his bond with her. In hours most dire, it was his last line of defense, his most sacred and cherished tether to what brought him the highest of highs, truest purpose.

But as the knight Dawnstar said, how often, how closely would Maynard continue to rely on these bonds. To the point where they do not uplift him but root the foundation beneath him, make it impossible to stand on his own.

He had overcome, he had to endure. Now more than ever. The longer this battle continued, the harder the struggle became to make each step. But so too did the demand of his host grow more for their protection. More of the demons emerged to falter their advance and with them they willed the foul sorcery to their command.

It was getting heavy. The sand, the fire, all of it. An envelopment of his senses too harsh to absorb for much longer as they continued.

<"General! They're not slowing up!"> One of the Marines sounded off. A close confidant of Treicolt in Captain Darik. He'd never piped up with this sense of urgency but past the painted visage of the Marine, his inflection spelled the direness of the situation where his helmet couldn't.

"We keep moving!" Maynard shouted out, the bitterness had lazed from his inflection where duty took its place. They continued their slow advance, the two Jedi continuing to hold the barrier up and around them and the most forward ranks of the Wolf Pack.

He kept what was left of his right arm held forward, igniting the cobalt saber in his sole hand as they pressed onward. With his connection to Loske a void...he honed in on Krau, willing his voice through the force. Cutting through the crack of blaster fire and symphony of suffering, he spoke.

"Act as one, we're putting them down." Maynard said before he halted in his slow, agonizing pace, screwed his eyes shut and reeled his one arm back holding the barrier alight before speaking once more to the Mandalorian.

"NOW!"

He said before he pumped his arm back before thrusting it forward, propelling the Force energy maintained in the barrier out and forward toward the Sithspawn and demons ahead of them in a destructive telekinetic wave spawned from their combined focus and will.

ALLIES | GA | NJO | Ryv | Krau Rook | Aelys | Captain Raith Captain Raith | Marcus Rail | Leon Gallo | Caldon Tenneth | Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt | Djorn Bline Djorn Bline | OPEN
ENEMIES | TSE | Pom Stych Tivé Pom Stych Tivé | UX-0626 | Other Space Kaiden Other Space Kaiden | OPEN TO SCRAP
 

Krau Rook

Guest
K
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OPERATION STONEFIST

t h e _ d a r ' t s i s

THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
104th MARINE BATTALION 'WOLFPACK'
STRIKE TEAM 'SKYWALKER'


oh lazarus

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Service demanded much from the young Jedi.

His tenure in the temple always seemed to glance over the true combat aspects of his nature, of the nature of the Jedi. It was easy to forget that one of their foundational ranks was that of Knighthood, plucked directly from the fables of the old Tythoni. It was easy to forget that during the Old Republic, it wasn’t the military arm of the Republic that directed Galactic Politics, but rather the saber of the Jedi, and even in their modern teachings and understandings, it was easy to forget.

He had spent the past five years of his time at the temple doing not much more than studying, anything and everything he could get his hands on. He became obsessed with the cultures and histories of the Galaxy, from the ancient Gree to the much more recent Outer Planets. The entire span of Corellia’s importance, to the city-states of the Deep Core. Languages, both dead and artificial passed between his lips while he sat propped up in his bed late at night, digging through deeper and deeper holopads.

Understand someone’s culture, their history, and it makes that first handshake and salutations much easier.

That was the promise the Galactic Alliance had made him, a simple life, devoid of pain.

The strain that the Force pushed back against him with was palpable.

He knew the basics of control, of course. The Core Powers were all but second nature to him, and the more advanced moves that he had been taught at the Temple, while far from as steady as something as simple as Force Push, still lingered in the back of him mind. There was something different about this. Different on how his foot ground into the ash-dust beneath his boots, something different in the whipping of sand, weaponized against him and his brothers-in-arms. There was something different about the shouts and commands tossed between Maynard and the Marines.

There’s a moment in your desperation, in your fear, where you finally realize that this could be it.

That every second you’re fighting against your own end.

His came with an Angel being cast down from On-High.

The first volley parted through the air, screaming and cutting past clouds and crashing into low flying fighters, sending them spiraling if they were lucky, or simply exploding mid-air. Fat, weighty cannon shots that came down from atmosphere. Red scars against the grey-choked background of the planet.

And then they made contact.

Crashing into buildings and homes on the horizon, blinking out light after light after light in the Force. He found himself there. Standing between the husbands and wives, daughters and sons, as they huddled together in fear and terror as Hellfire came down. Ripping through floor after floor after floor of office buildings mid-evacuation. Police barracks. Charred flesh and the scent of burnt clothes filled the air, and an unmistakable smog began to roll from the rubble. Another volley. Again. Again. Digging deeper and deeper as the source of the damnation simply rolled across the surface of the world. Dragging it’s scythe along the dirt without a care in the world.

Maynard said:
"Act as one, we're putting them down." Maynard said before he halted in his slow, agonizing pace, screwed his eyes shut and reeled his one arm back holding the barrier alight before speaking once more to the Mandalorian.

"NOW!"

And suddenly, he was snapped back to his reality. Standing there next to his master, the taste of distant loss still fresh on his mind. He looked down at his hands, at some point he had placed his saber back on his belt, but he wasn’t sure when. He looked over his hands, in real, determined confusion for a moment about where he was.

There was a moment where you realize you have the power and space in your life to direct something, anything, in a direction of betterment.

There’s a moment where you make a choice, to fight, to stand against the tide, or to let it wash over you.

There is no death, there is the Force.

Krau threw both of his hands forward, channeling that single, greatest emotion any Jedi had at their disposal into the barrier. Causing pulses of energy to surge through it as it expanded and crackled with vitriol at the demons and Sithspawn.

Hope.

Hope that this will be the last time blood is spilt on the soil of Holy Ziost.



// ALLIES : GA | NJO | Ryv | Aelys | Captain Raith Captain Raith | Marcus Rail | Leon Gallo | Maynard Treicolt Maynard Treicolt \\

// ENEMIES : TSE | OPEN \\
 

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the M I S T R E S S
M A L C O N T E N T

MUAHAHAHAHA!!!

DIRECT ENEMY FOCUS: Jax Thio Jax Thio | Jairdain Jairdain Ismet​

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The wind gusts suddenly died down. Particles of sand continued to pelt down upon the heads of those fighting within the vicinity. The Nightsisters instead held back vomit, while the loving display between the two jedi unfolded before their eyes. Pom's life gone long unfulfilled, she gave up on ever truly bonding with another in such a fulfilling manner. Her relationships toted many strong emotions, but love as it exists for many among the galaxy, is simply never an option.

The many eyes of the Wanica widened with what the jedi had proclaimed. Just who is it the jedi woman thinks she is? The Matriarchs of the Wanica have lived countess lives among the Nightsisters. They are bound to their Matriarch, and they are the supporting force behind many Matriarchs gone before. The spirits are the living word from many grimoires, the purveyors of Magick. They exist as protectors of the ancient arts and prideful culture.

They are also as malevolent as they come, depending on the creative mood. And the proposed offer to possess, Jairdain Jairdain is about as amusing as it comes!

The twelve Nightsisters cried out in unison, individual exclamations in which to jointly declare, "Oh Holy Mother of Ashla! She offers us FREEDOM!"
After their initial joy was proclaimed aloud, few followed with, "Leave it to the jedi to rescue us!"
"Finally! Peace at last!"
"So long, beyotch weyotch!" was directed towards Pomstychtivé.
"I never hated jedi. Honestly…"

The twelve Nightsisters of the Wanica glanced at their Matriarch before turning away. Their bodies fell limp as they transform into individual plumes of thick black smoke once again. They whipped towards Jairdain, and after a brief pause before her, forcefully began to possess her.

"…I love such a relationship."

The Nightsisters fought over who would control the jedi first. The agreed upon resolution was that each would wholly possess a different body part! Her mind became their playground. They awkwardly puppeteered the jedi woman, steeling her away from the immediate area, to finally carrying her off with them.




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Location: Ziost, Orbital Defense Center
Allies: GA and their allies. Nearby: Jax Thio Jax Thio
Enemies: TSE and their allies. Nearby: Pom Stych Tivé Pom Stych Tivé
Objective: Operation Stonefist

It wasn't like Jairdain didn't hear what Jax was saying but she chose to ignore it. Hearing his last comment about Pom, she shook her head.

"No, she isn't. This is not the woman I met fully. If she and Spasa were still as one, then she would be even stronger. Trust me and on the Force."

There was no way for him to know what she was planning and then he tried to stop her. Luckily it wasn't physical and only done in words. This caused her to wince slightly, but she felt she was doing the right thing. Besides, she was confident this would succeed. Of course, there was confidence and then over-confidence...

So far, her plan was going well until all the Matriarchs actually entered her mind. They had put on a good show for her sake and their attack was unexpected. Keeling over onto her side, each part of her body seemed to be controlled by the entities within her mind. All Jairdain could do at the moment was hold them off from entirely possessing her mind.

While she held them away from her core, they carried her body away since she had no control of it. The battlefield drifted past her while she considered just how to get herself out of this situation. Getting hit with a rock on the way past it knocked the breath out of the Jedi and she had finally had enough.


Forming a mental bubble around her mind, she slowly expanded it to encompass her body. As she reached a limb or body part these spirits had invaded, she pushed them out. Falling head over heels a few times in the process, she eventually regained control of her body.

Taking out that dagger of light she had, she brandished it like she knew how to use it. Her normally neat hair was totally out of place and her clothes were probably torn up quite a bit.

"You want me? Come get me."

Making two fists, a barrier was placed around her body. In theory, this would prevent her from getting hit by almost anything.
 


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Location: Orbital Defense Center, Ziost
Part of Jax wanted to go after Jairdain chase after her when the Matriarchs possessed her and flew her away from the battlefield. His feet was pointed at Jairdain and his entire body was screaming for him to shout her name and to run towards her. However Jax allowed the force to take dictate his actions, he remembered his failure at Korriban recklessly charging towards Pom only to have her use Aveline as a shield. The memory no matter how much Jax tried to move on was still etched in his mind flashing whenever Jax is experiencing success. It's always to cast seeds of doubt within his mind and make Jax second guess himself.​
"I leave it to the will of the Force," Jax whispered to himself gripping his Lightsaber. "Jaridain can take care of herself."​
Besides Jairdain's entire plan meant that Pom didn't have any of the Matriarchs to help her. However Jax's body was still shaking, he was limbs were trying to lock themselves in place freezing him. "Come on," Jax thought placing more force energy through out his body enabling to walk.​
"Looks like your Witches are no longer here to help you!" Jax said getting into a Shii-Cho stance. "It's just you and me!" Reaching into the Force, Jax began to charge towards Pom.​

 


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//: Ziost, outside the Command Center//:
//:
Cyberwar //:
//: Team Vos //: Ripley Kühn Ripley Kühn //:
//: Engaging //: Other Space Kaiden Other Space Kaiden //:
//: Enemies //: Thorald Magnusson Thorald Magnusson //:
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There was a hint of joy as the beast quaked in pain and agony. Allyson remembered this reaction; it was the same that Carnifex had gone through when she had stabbed him with the same Force arrow. She still smiled, despite the second of the arrows missing her intended target. The one she needed to hit had done so and caused him pain, the same pain he and his kind had issued to the galaxy at large.

Her smile slowly faded, though, feeling the dread and hunger that began to swell and consume the area they were fighting in. Only so many times had she felt this; only the strongest of the Sith Lords emitted this aura, and Allyson was aware now who and how high up Vulcanus was. The creature was a predator, a monstrosity, and he was beyond mad. Gulping, she nervously chuckled and took a few steps back, but his attack came far too quickly. Smoke and debris surrounded her, blowing strong and forcing the woman to cover her face - hoping to protect it from anything that he would flare up at her.

Focusing, the Jedi Master drew upon the Force encasing her in a protective bubble. The cyclone of fire and rage beat against the protective barrier she had wrapped herself in. Arms still cross in front of her face, she could feel the heat of the inferno cutting through the barrier. Leaning into the blow, Allyson could feel her feet sliding against the pavement as it continued to rage. Flesh burned as she continued to protect her face, but her hands would begin to boil and crack. As much as she tried not to show the pain that he was causing, groans of excruciating pain came from the Corellian, everything hurt, but she needed to keep him occupied letting Ripley complete the mission.

The mission was above all else - especially her survival.

Allyson cursed, feeling the string of her bow melting and burning with the heat of the flames that engulfed her. Allyson tightened her grip on the weapon as his next assault came. There was no way she would be able to avoid the blow this time around; the raging blade from Vulcanus made contact with the bow and arrow in her hand and began to melt the imbued metal. Allyson had explicitly designed it to be resistant to a point but not resistant enough to protect her for long. It bought her enough time to summon her lightsaber, which caught the blade as the bow melted through, slicing it in half.

Force body coursing through her, she attempted to push back the blow of the sword. Taking a chance, the arrow that was still in her hand despite being half the size it was moments ago, the tip once more glowed with Force Light, and she chucked it towards Vulcanus’ head as she took a step back, trying to find a better footing. "That all you got? I expected more from the Lord of Embers."
 
She Left Behind A Legacy
Location: Ruins of Hâsk
Allies: GA
Enemies: Enyo Typhos

"And you've got to--"

She felt an invisible weight invade her body, easily because her telekinetic barriers were down. There was tension around her neck, and then a tight squeeze -- Ehueh

Her body levitated from the ground, and she hovered there as the grip grew tighter forcing her empty of whatever air she had at the moment. "Keep fighting because you like challenges...you crave them." That little voice in her head; narrating.

Earlier she had been fidgeting with her utility belt, while hovering in the air she raised her left arm, aimed and fired her grappling spike launcher directly for the terminatrix's busted leg. She didn't seem as mobile as before, and the speed at which the central unit containing the liquid-cable reservoir would launch would likely be quicker than she could maneuver while focusing on slamming Romi into the ground. Jade shot the hook end, with intention of it penetrating and catching on some internal circuity in the leg that was already exposed. These things fired with enough momentum to embed the ends in most surfaces.

She just needed it to catch.

Urgh!

She collided with the ground, making an animal noise that was more anger than pain and flailed for a moment as she tried to get up. On her way down she yanked, hoping to snatch her off her feet with the combine effort of a grip magnified by her crushguant, and the momentum used to throw her into the ground.

They said that the human body was capable of extraordinary feats of strength when in extremis. For a Jedi, it was something else entirely. Romi was the type of combatant that would come in for the kill, again and again, until her opponent was worn down and too weak to fend her off...or she was killed.

Her metaphysical reserves were low -- she'd used all that for the moment.

But, she came up in a rush, arms pumping. She bore on, right for her opponent. Pain could be ignored, but her athleticism, endurance, and adrenaline stimulator was enough for Romi to right herself and come back at her with her saber drawn. She was going to have to rely strictly on her fighting skills, pitting her speed and precision against whatever tricks the cyborg had; they seemed endless.

She moved her left arm through one loop, wrapping the cord once to yank it again while she hopping over the pile of rubble with her scarlet fire in hand.
 

Lark

Saint of the Damned
Allies: TSE
Enemies: GA, Takui Takui
Location: Ziost

"Perhaps I can't understand your shame," Lark began, as the lost Jedi dealt with the trails of lightning the Sith had conjured. Together, the two of them created something truly spectacular. A place that could birth chaos, bring forth the most primordial, destructive forces the galaxy had ever seen. Takui's failures and Lark's desperate search for salvation created a crucible of ravenous avarice, and there was nothing that could stop either of them from seeking their goals. "But I thank you for putting it on display for me. The greatest shame of all is that you've chosen of single-minded destruction. I feel no pity for you. You've seen the truth, and this is the path you've chosen. The galaxy will feel our wrath for eternity, long after we're both ash."

"Though I've survived infernos equal to this."


The cradle of fire on Myrkr. The swaddle of flames covering his naked body, scarring it into pink splotches that still dotted his skin like freckles. He had been reborn that night, amidst a tempest of fire and soot. The boy he once had been nearly died, retreating deeper and deeper into the depths of his mind. So too had the monster hidden, and as they both found their own piece of land to carve out in his soul, Lark made himself a home as well. Now, as the box continued to spew forth its darkness, Lark found that it drew the passion of all three of those pieces of his soul forward. The boys desire to protect his family. The monster's desire to see life eradicated. And Lark's desire to find the meaning of peace. It all seemed to coalesce. It didn't seem possible for such contrasting ideals to coexist. And yet, the box made it possible, somehow. The answer, his brother whispered, voice emanating from the box, was shockingly simple.

You will slaughter everyone to see your family together once more. Only then will you find the tranquility you seek.

His brother's voice was replaced after that, and from the box instead came a melancholy song. A woman's soft hum accompanied serene a serene chime of piano keys. The rhythm, despite sounding bittersweet, was seemingly full of hope as well. It was all Lark had ever wanted to hear. He had no doubt his sister was the composer for such a beautiful song. It was all he had ever wanted to hear. His dear sister was constructing a melody for their perfect dance. Finally, all his siblings were together as one. The box made it so.

Takui screamed, and as that baneful howl shook the sky, Lark felt invisible threads tighten around his neck. The foundations of the building somehow held together, and the Sith's feet left the ground as he was lifted higher into the air he could not breath. His muscles strained, his veins popped out of his skin as the little oxygen he had left his body. If he had the ability, he would have laughed. It was all so beautiful. This was the scene the monster had been been searching for ever since that fire on Myrkr. The scenery of doomsday. An event so cataclysmic that it might bring an entire world to its knees.

But we need to save the lost, Lark and the boy thought.

The lost are your brother and sister. Who aren't actually here. The box grants us strength. This frozen speck of dust isn't even a price to pay. So why not let it all burn away, if it will give us the power to save them? The monster's arguments appealed to them both, though only one of the other two seemed to be at all swayed.

Lark was the conduit for their thoughts, the intermediary for the two extremes. But he too had his own wishes, dreams that he alone wanted. And his will was all that mattered. Though the box had enhanced all of their desires, Lark still controlled the boy and the monster. He had been born from the flames. Not them. So he was the one most qualified to seek out his passions.

His vision was shrouded by black tendrils, though these were not caused by the box. No, within a few more moments his body would succumb to Takui's rage, and the last gasps of breath he had would leave his body in pitiful puffs. But he still heard his sister playing the piano for him. Though her spectral flame was gone, the box still made her influence known. Lark turned his head, which was now purple and grey as his neck continued to tighten. The box was special. If he were to die, at least his sister had played his a mournful farewell.

No, Lark thought. He brought his knees to his chest, curling himself up into a frail, scrawny ball. He focused on the keys of the piano, letting the pensive heartbeats of his sister fuel his mind. A stream of the Force surrounded him, pieces of shattered rubble and flickers of the dark flame surrounded him. And in a heartbeat of pure heartache and desperation, Lark unleashed it all. The pure agonies all of his personas suffered, a storm of violence and peace, love and hate, the passions of three separate entities merged into one tempest of energy. All of those inflammatory feelings, nourished by the box. Together, Lark and Takui's desires would consume Ziost.

Reality would soon be so warped not even a memory of this glacier would remain.

 
OPERATION CLEANSING FIRE
Ziost Sorzus Academy
WEAPONS: LIGHTSABER | NIGHTFALL | DUSKFALL
ALLIES: GA
ENEMIES: TSE | Taeli Raaf Taeli Raaf

The descent down into the bowels of the academy was easier than Kentarch anticipated. Resistance to his descent was non-existent. Either he was mistaken for another Sith, or the academy's defenders were too busy engaging enemy Jedi. His thought reflected on the irony of the situation. He a Sith was aiding the Jedi to destroy those who labeled him a traitor. His name had been struck from the Sith Empire's records, from history itself. At the same time, Darth Kentarch had worked to keep his anonymity from the people at large. Now he was branded 'The Zatitsis' and a member of a supposed Zatitsisajak Heresy. Perhaps it was his petty need for revenge that drove his take up his sword against the remnants of the Sith Empire.

None the less his thoughts cleared as finally reached 'The Nexus' of The Sith Academy. He could feel the raw dark side power flowing from nexus itself. First, he noticed the illumination of the floor from the circles, lines, and runes carved into the chamber. His gaze then settled to the center of the chamber, a pavilion. Guardians in red robes lined the area with weapons drawn at the very sight of Kentarch. In response, Kentarch drew his own lightsaber, igniting the brilliant red blade.

"I'm dying to know," Kentarch spoke aloud, his voice echoed throughout the Shrine of the Jen'jidai. "If this is some elaborate trap. If in your pompous foresight knew that I would come here all along. And this was your whole plan all along."

He was met first with Silence. He wondered if Raaf could even hear him, perhaps the ritual she was performing required all her focus.

"Perhaps you and the Emperor will claim that you were the architect of all these events. The fall of the One Sith, The rise of another Sith Empire on Bastion. How the current fall of this Empire and Kyber Dark was some elaborate scheme to purge the heretics and disloyal. To discard the weak and unworthy. Then the Sith can be reborn in the fiery crucible in the image of the emperor." Kentarch's words dripped with sarcasm. "But I know better. The Imperials have broken their chains and the Jedi have the Sith on the Run. The only thing left is to scratch together a haphazard fleet of ships and flee into wild space."

Kentarch moved closer to the gazebo, the Sith Guardians raised their weapons on queue with Kentarch's advance. "C'mon it can't be this easy."
 

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D I A M O N D _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ZIOST |
REDEEMER | ABOVE NEW ADASTA
ARMOR | PISTOL | KNIFE
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ROTTEN APPLE
He was sure to have at least weaken Eldaah’s mind, not after all that he put her through. There had to be something to get out of her relevant to the situation undergoing on Ziost. Even the smallest hint would, for it would prove that some of her was feeble after the interrogation. Part of him hoped she gave him a reason to go further into torturing, it was the only thing that amused Djorn from her stubbornness. Their time had to be worthwhile after everything. He calculated everything and understood the risks. Taking risks were fine, so long as they were precisely calculated.

And Djorn was confident in his assessments.

He started patiently as Loske used her skills to do what she needed to do. Observing in case the Sith Knight tried to do anything smart in his presence. What could she do except be at his mercy? He decided where and how the pain would be on her. He held the upper hand, not her. Although he was curious of exactly what Eldaah could do in this predicament of hers. The only thing he could assume was that there was a turncoat, a spy aboard the Redeemer ready to sabotage his work.

But then...


“Loske?” he called out in a worried tone to the Jedi, taking a step forward to look for anything that promoted those words. She couldn’t react to him due to the connection between her and the Sith. What could he do. He worried; worried that he put her in a situation that could overwhelm her. Should he...no. He had faith in her. She had to try, even for a slightest inch.

"Djorn..he--agent---no."

That was the point he knew something was wrong. She said his name, and followed with incomprehensible words. What was that witch showing to her?

”LOSKE!”

No response. He didn’t know what would happen if he interfered. Would there be consequences if he did? Consequences to be suffer for her? For now, he hoped she could escape from whatever torment she was suffering.

Which she did.


“LOSKE!”
He stared in horror as the Jedi fell backwards, her own fingers now clawing at her forehead as she slammed against the durasteel wall.

“Shit! Dammit!” the only words he could think of to react to whatever pain Loske was experiencing. She fought whatever it was that attacked her, her hands trying to tear off something; clawing her throat, face, and whatever skin exposed from her armor.

He didn’t know what to do, but he turned back at the Sith Knight.

“You...” venom seethed through his teeth, eyes glaring with hatred to what was happening. “Trying to play me like a damn fiddle!?”

He bolted at Eldaah, a short distance to bridge between himself and the Sith. His eyes then caught sight of his knife that was still lodged between the torn muscles that of her arm. His hand then grabbed the hilt of the blade and without warning it hesitation activated the vibration generator within the blade; muscle began to rip which shot out blood from the wound. With ease he was able to carve into the woman’s arm, even cutting through bone without any difficulty. He warned her that she would lose more than just blood if she tried anything, and now he would fulfill his promise. Amputate her arm off, whatever that he could get out of it.

“You damn queen! Your head is next!”

His intent was to hope whatever that he was doing would break the spell Eldaah had on Loske. That and make the Sith pay for what she had done.

ALLIES | GA | NJO | Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt
ENEMIES | TSE | Eldaah Aderyn Eldaah Aderyn
 
We all fall in parallel
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More fire.

The Sith's words made his intention abundantly clear. He wanted to defy this fate, the infernal ending that now lovingly hollowed out their insides. Lark said that he had survived before, and so, the only reasonable answer left came to Takui. He had to ensure that this time, there would be no survival. Not for either of them.

His fist stayed level, even through the tremors that wracked his body. Latent power that slept soundly beneath the surface for two decades now stirred. The yawn from that awakening dragged the boy down into chaos and calamity. The darkness had become a sinkhole, and it rapidly lay claim to both men.

Lark showed signs of wearing down as he ascended, almost like a soul toward heaven. It would have been the most poetic, ironic ending if all. A man torn under by the power that he held most dear.

Paramount to the tragedies of Ziost was that Takui could feel it- all of it. The turmoil that raged within Lark became his own. He embraced that overwhelming Defiance and lay claim to it freely, unhindered. It was a deep wound, and it would scar over inside of the Padawan long after. He could taste all of the sins that embroiled the Sith, all of the trauma, all of the horrors that shaped the man into what he sought to destroy.

Most deplorable of all was that Takui grieved for the very man he hated.

Lark wanted his family. He wanted to reunite with something he had lost. Takui empathized with him possibly more than the Sith would ever know. As his emotions raged to a crescendo, to the rhythm of a maddening song that the other man could hear and he could not, the refrain was visible but just outside of his reach.

Takui felt the most horrendous thing of all. The same sensation that he felt on Deneba, with the very first interaction he'd had with the Force. Death closed its cold embrace, slowly pulling Lark toward it. This time, Taku held the strings. The reaper was a marionette. He had become the very thing he'd sought to destroy..

In the seconds before he claimed the man's life however, the song began anew. Louder than before, harder, more ferocious. Takui saw it before he felt it, and by the time he reacted it was too late to stop.

Energy surged outward from the Sith, ripping through space and plowing through the walls Taku had already unintentionally compromised. The Padawan was launched from his feet and slammed into the wall, then continued through as his body collapsed the load bearing pylon. He smacked against the pavement beyond and rolled, then continued to slide until he was face flat.

The flame had not gone out. Black spilled over from newly opened wounds across his body, viscera tainted by the taint of Bogan. Takui pushed himself upward, and as the pain radiated through his body, he huffed and sucked in air. It only hurt worse.

He winced. His vision blurred. Rage gave him focus. Pain robbed him of it.

Takui took a step forward, then realized his left shoulder was unresponsive. He tried to move it. The pain put an end to that. His virulent gaze shifted back to Lark, who had won back the right to breathe.

He's not dead yet.

The lie had won, for all of his attempts to fight back. No longer did he care about Ziost, the Jedi, the Sith, or anything else. There was only this task to be done, and him to carry it out.

He is all that stands in the way of freedom.

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Lark Lark
 
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:// I'll keep coming //:
:// POST I | NEW ADASTA //:
:// ALLIES: GA | Allyson Locke Allyson Locke //:
:// ENEMIES: TSE | Thorald Magnusson Thorald Magnusson //:
:// EQUIPMENT: ARMOR | LIGHTSABER | HOLOLINK | SLICER GEAR //:

Ripley’s eyes followed each being who were walking the halls. Though she went unnoticed, the anxiety that such a brazen act caused was almost unbearable. Sweat beaded her forehead as she worked to maintain the cloak that was her lifeline. She could feel the darkness that smothered the planet pulling at her, trying to get her to draw power. A deep breath in, a deep breath out. The zeltron worked to resist the meditation, focusing on the little bit of peace in the recesses of her mind.

She weaved her way through hallways and upstairs, gaze probing. Finally, she spotted a black, metal door, the sound of fans on the other side. Placing her hand over the scanner lock, the force bended to her will, a shiver sent up her sign. The darkness in the atmosphere bent willingly. A green light flashed across the scanner, the door sliding open long enough for Ripley to slip through.

“Gotcha…”

The server racks in the long room radiated heat. Ripley wasted no time as she began to dig gear out of her satchel. Slicing unit and system diverter in hand, she approached the nearest cabinet, ready to wreak havoc on enemy systems.

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Location: Sorzus Academy of Sith Arts
Objective: Greet the Forgotten One
Allies: TSE
Enemies: Darth Kentarch Darth Kentarch GA/NIO

Equipment: In signature

A pale hand let the astrium go to float up into the nexus, the dark energies of it swirling around it in a blending of purple, red, and black strands of energy. Red runes glowed sinisterly as they absorbed and channeled the power of the nexus. The ritual she had started would go on by itself, and even now, some ancient magic had been unleashed above and it only added fuel to her spell and the one being weaved by the other sorcerers in the academy. In the end, it wouldn't matter... she already had plans to re-establish the Sorzus Academy elsewhere until Ziost was in Sith hands again.

This would just be icing on the metaphorical cake.

She heard his call, but she didn't turn around just yet. She knew the voice, from her days among the One Sith and assisting the Sith Assassins. The man had been decreed by Kaine to be stripped from all records after the battle on Krayiss II, to be struck from all histories of the Sith so he would be forgotten for all time. But Taeli was loathe to give up any knowledge.

"No elaborate trap," she replied, still not turning around to face the Sith known as Darth Kentarch. The Guardians of the Shrine were prepared to stop the interloper at their Mistress's command, but she didn't give the command yet. "Nor did I think you were still alive considering the skull that was supposedly yours is still decorating the hall at the temple on Krayiss II. Either that was an imposter or you were revived, but it's not important really."

She finally turned to face the assassin.

"And I won't claim things that I have no right to," she continued. "I was rather busy when the One Sith fell and the new Empire rose, but I will freely admit that the events that have occurred since have been advantaged in some ways."

She didn't mention that he was semi-right that Kaine was already preparing his secret forces to escape a possible collapse. To reforge the Sith in his image and to be utterly subservient to him. His New Sith... A crackle of energy arced from the astrium above them, the energy around it swirling faster.

"Why have you come, Forgotten One?" she asked, unclipping her own lightsaber, but not igniting it yet. "What has brought you back to the game, Kentarch?"
 
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As Loske was jettisoned from her mind, her Master's spell ringing in her head, Eldaah opened her eyes again. The woman was twitching and clawing at the strands forming across her body, finger tips turning back, creeping sinews crawling up her neck. How very interesting, and that was a thought shared by both Knight and Master.

Djorn, all rage and panic, indignation and fear, hatred and jealousy, rushed back to Eldaah's restrained form. Seizing his knife, swearing a mighty oath, he began carving into her arm. Pain rushed through her nerves, blood splashing across his knife and his face and his armor. He achieved a scream to escape her lips and throat as her arm was now freed from above the elbow. However... the fool didn't realize his mistakes yet.

The Redeemer and its crew did not realize how badly their situation was about to become. When Eldaah had been transferred to the ship, and Djorn had been requested to assist with the interrogation of the Sith prisoner because of their shared organization, equipment had been earmarked for the agent to use at his leisure. Signed off, seemingly, by the man himself and brought aboard with the last reprovision before jumping to Ziost. Three little droids had been smuggled on board in the equipment, done so by hidden agents of Arcanix that still resided within the Alliance navy. After all... what Sith would activate ALL of their agents when bringing down a galactic power?

The droids had activated once Djorn arrived, all the more to frame the man for what was to come. They had specific tasks to perform; Droid One had gone to the reactor control room, Droid Two had accessed the ship's security station, and Droid Three was arranging transport off. Their timers had been ticking down slowly until this moment...

And across the ship, all power was cut. In the cell, emergency light came on, casting the room into a red glow to match the blood spilled by the Sith Knight. The restraints holding her however... a little nudge of mechu deru, and they popped open. She slid off the table, rolling to her feet under the knife strike, coming up with a gymnast's ease. But her eyes, blue until now, obtained a purple glow as her Master took hold. Eldaah retreated into her own mind, safe behind her Master's will from the agony even as she used it as fuel for her dark powers.

"Thank you for your help, Djorn," she said, her voice layered between Eldaah's and a woman he would know all too well. A syllable of the Sith language left those lips, and from the stump of Eldaah's left arm, a tendril of dark side energy erupted and reached out to wrap around the hand and arm holding the knife. It would be an arm for an arm.

And even then, this was all done to keep his attention away from the final transformation of the Jedi. Once that was done, everyone on board not of the Sith would be doomed.

"Rayiai," the command would echo in the Force. Arise.

Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt
Djorn Bline Djorn Bline
 
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Was Calin afraid? Maybe, in the way a stray animal was afraid as it worked it's way to survive. He was outmatched, in every way that the Acolyte could think of. Maybe he should've listened to his instructors better...their words returned to him as distant blurbs. And something else replaced his fear, it was understanding. In this moment he understood the eternal vendetta of Jedi and Sith, Light and Dark, better than he ever had before. Jedi, always so high and mighty in their quest for good.

If he surrendered, his life was over. Both metaphorically and literally. They'd throw him into a cell for life, a hundred crimes to his name under the Pykes. And then the Pykes or one of their goons would find him, and then that Death Mark would be resolved. And that? That just couldn't happen. He looked to Aelys now, his face betrayed no emotion for a time, instead pocketing one of his cigurra and sliding another in his mouth.

"Can't even accept a man's Cig."

He let himself feel the force around him, that energy that had always graced him. And he bent it to his will, exertion as he closed a fist. Grabbing a tray of the semi-liquid gruel they liked to pass for food in this place with the Force as he flung it at the Jedi now. It didn't need to do much else other than distract him, blind him for a moment if he was lucky. The man threw himself back after that, his blasters back to his hand with a flash as he was sent diving for some sort of cover, a brief respite.

His hate flowed through him now, the carnal emotions of the Dark Side. A pent-up aggression he had kept low and masked as cool "professionalism" before. It bubbled forth, the Jedi, the Pykes, the Sith, this whole nonsensical situation he had ended up in after living life in the closest thing to a heaven a street rat could muster. It was time to truly use his gifts, no matter how much it ruined him.
 
OPERATION CLEANSING FIRE
Ziost Sorzus Academy
WEAPONS: LIGHTSABER | NIGHTFALL | DUSKFALL
ALLIES: GA
ENEMIES: TSE | Taeli Raaf Taeli Raaf

"Forgotten One?" Kentarch voice was curious. "I hope my fellow Sith don't bestow upon me a new title at every reunion or commemoration. I won't be able to keep track of them all. Although I admit it is better than The Zatitsis."

His gaze shifted back up towards the energy that cracked and boomed above the two of them. Whatever ritual she had sent into motion was already accelerating. "As for the game. I found that I have a debt to repay. You see a few heretics who once called themselves One Sith found a random skull, claimed it to be mine, and removed my name from history. As repayment, I will always be there to challenge their legitimacy. I will undermine every effort they take. Do not forget the events of Coruscant, the previous Dark Lord of the Sith. You can rewrite history but no one can ever change the truth." Kentarch watched as Taeli unclipped her lightsaber. "As for me being... well dead." Kentarch rocked his head back forth, his tone clearly disappointed. "As if the force would be kind enough to grant me the gift of death."

Kentarch lowered his saber, the tip of the red blade towards the ground in a passive stance. As the two of them spoke, Kentarch used the precious moments to study each guard. Their stances, their weapons, their height and weight, he could even sense their weaknesses. In their commitment and service to become a guardian of this shrine, they chose to sacrifice their humanity. This was not strength, at least not against Kentarch. Their lack of armor was noticeable, as were the alchemized weapons. He deduced that each would fall in a one-two tempo, block and riposte. They would last seconds.

"But I can sense your plans, the Sith Empire's plans. They will fail, one way or another, so will Carnifex. He's lost his clout. I think deep down inside you already know this." Kentarch continued then gestured at the guardians. "As for these once-men, they do not have to die. I'd hoped you do more than throw useless minions against me."

Then Kentarch tightened the grip on his lightsaber. "A good death is its own reward... I will make it quick clean, no need to drag on suffering. So, this is the part where we make a decision. The question for you Taeli Raaf is do you really still want to fight, or would you rather live?"
 
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Equipment: Armour, Rifle, Gas Grenades, Sidearm 1, Sidearm 2, Sabre, Ion Paddle Beamer, Cryo-Ban Gun.
Romi Jade Romi Jade

Enyo's greatest asset was not her strength or speed. Those were impressive, but certain alien species could match or exceed them. It was her endurance. Like every Force-User, her metaphysical reserves were finite. But like a droid, her body could not get tired or feel pain. This sounded like an all-round boon, but it could also not feel pleasure.

In a way she was dead, and yet not. Her brain was kept alive by mad science, leaving her in limbo between life and death. Some might have despaired - or tried to turn a new leaf. Enyo did neither. To her, the galaxy was a machine. The Force was a massive clock ticking away till the end of time. Nations rose and fell just like sandcastles were washed away by the tides; Jedi and Sith clashed, causing untold destruction; lives were extinguished by the millions every day - and the clock kept ticking. No one could control it. And she endured. She intended to be there when it hit midnight and the universe finally died.

The grappling spike embedded inside her damaged leg. Being hit by debris had taken a toll on it. Enyo had been too focused on pummeling the Jedi to notice it before it hit home. Then she was suddenly snatched off her feet and thrown to the ground, hitting it with a loud thud. It seemed everything was going according to the plan. Blazing lightsabre in hand, the Jedi leaped at her, propelled by adrenaline and her considerabe prowess as an athlete, while yanking the cord again. Enyo had been comfortable with letting her do that, and let the Jedi come to her.

The Jedi displayed an admirable fighting spirit. But she had made one potentially critical error. On the outside Enyo looked slender, but her body was not human. Her endoskeleton was made of Phrik. At a conservative estimate, her body would be about double the Jedi's weight. This meant she was not easy to move. A crushgaunt gave the Jedi crushing strength to break someone's bones, but unless it was hooked up to power armour one could not easily use it to throw the Terminatrix. Pulling the cord again in mid-air had the problem of lack of leverage.

Enyo had dropped to one knee, and when the Jedi leaped towards her, she swung her violet lightsabre, using its dual phase mode to extend the blade's length and give her a reach advantage. The slash went over Enyo's head and she aimed for the Jedi's shins, trying to cut the her legs off below the knee.

Enyo did not know the capabilities of the Jedi's outfit. She had seen that it incorporated some armour and thus assumed it possessed some protection against lightsabres. But even the joints of heavy armour like beskar'gam were vulnerable because otherwise one could not move. Once she had carried out the swipe, Enyo snapped the blade back to normal length.
 
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Location: Orbital Center
Equipment:
Here
Allies: Other Space Kaiden Other Space Kaiden
Enemies: Allyson Locke Allyson Locke | Ripley Kühn Ripley Kühn

Ranulf stood at the tables looking over the little pings as they moved across the many maps, sending them most recent movement reports to the commanders in the areas. His mind focused intently on the situation at hand. Good lord how do I always get myself into these types of messes. He thought as he leaned against the table his eyes noticing every detail as it flashed in front of the monitor in front of him.

If he had blinked he would have missed it, on a monitor right past the one he was looking at he noticed a door open, not all the way but just enough to make him a little concerned as to what could be happening. He was dealing with force users after all, and he had no idea what limitless abilities could be happening inside this very building. Technology didn't stand much of a chance against the reality bending powers of the force.

"Lieutenant take over, I'm going to be checking on an urgent issue, If I don't radio back in ten minutes send a small squad to the server section."

Ranulf had barely uttered the words as he was moving out the door. His eyes set and focused as he found his way down to the server rooms. Oh, please don't me have to face one of those force wielding, lightsaber swinging maniacs. I didn't even want to get shot at but this is ridiculous.

When he made it down to the server room, he drew his vibrosword slowly, he didn't know what he could be facing inside, and he definetly couldn't use his blaster in there. He hit the button to open the door, his eyes peeking inside.
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