Invasion The Return : The Battle of Mandalore [TN Invasion of TSE Mandalore]

[Cara Dorniarn]

Location: Ka'pruni mine yard.
Objective: Stab Mig Gred
_____________________________________________________

The shot from Mynock's blaster took the Scourge by surprise, denting the duranium plating. It took some steps back as other droids turned to face the intruder. Three out of thirty turned their full attention to the beskar'gam-wearing droid.

Thoom-tak, thoom-tak. The droids came closer with heavy mechanical steps then raised their deflector shields while they took aim. The cacophonic noise of blaster cannons filled the plaza as the three Scourges fired. Some miners screamed, others covered their heads. Meanwhile, most looked on with scared but tired eyes, their minds too weary to react in any meaningful manner.

The other droids which encircled the miners bubbled themselves but did not engage, holding the posts assigned to them.

- - -​

Elsewhere, Cara and Mig Gred were still playing in the dust. It was a loose dance, neither side keeping close to the other. If she were to reign in this Mando Cara would have to close the distance between them. It sounded simple enough, and in her anger she was ready to be done with him. She reached through the Force and seized him, ready to skewer his beskar-plated gut with her arm. But this Mig fellow had a quick idea, and the summoned Kinetite slammed into Cara's right shoulder thus throwing her arm back. She didn't get to land the blow and the Mandalorian flew past her.

Cara threw an enraged glance over her shoulder before fully turning around.

"Enough games," she thought while eyeing the discount lightsaber. It would be so easy. She had already traced its circuitry, heard its computer droning the same orders to adjacent systems. If throwing a tree wasn't enough to express it, she deemed this fight undeserving of sportsmanship. She indulged herself in a sneer before raising a hand.

"Oh goodness, well that's a shiner," Cara recalled how she winced when the antiseptic was applied over her brow, "A nasty kick and you still played nice. You should have returned the favor." The gentle hands still held Cara's cheek and forehead while worried eyes examined the cut over her blackeye. Cara chuckled and took the hands into her own, "Just because someone else fights dirty doesn't mean I have to. It takes patience to enjoy a fight." An unconvinced glare broke into a relaxed smirk, "Courteous to a fault. One of your more charming quirks."

Cara refocused on the present. It was an unwelcome memory, especially at this moment. The sneer had fallen into a pensive stare as she caught a glimpse of her hand. Talons? Was that her style now? She closed her fingers into a tight fist, focusing to reintegrate the sharpened ends. She wouldn't disable that saber. But no, he was a Mandalorian, why shouldn't she? Does such trash deserve a fair fight?

There was a full debate argued in mere seconds, but to Cara it was agonizingly long-winded. What little bit of martial respect was left during her Dark Side binge won the battle, and Cara pulled her fist inward. She instead gripped both vibroknives, removing them from their sheaths and wielding the left in an underhand grip.

"If you insist on using a weapon then I will follow suit." Cara's voice resumed a level, albeit strained, tone of voice. She leapt forward with a flurry of movement most unusual for the engineer, ready to parry the saber with her arm while aiming to stab between the beskar plates.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Location: Fortress Imperious, Concordia
Tag: Darth Carnifex

Spoiler

Armour / Sabres / Belt / Edge of Atrophy / Wrist / Jin’Wodasir / Tsaisibola / Xiphos-class SSD / Satwasin

Saiah

Yes, that had been her name once. She had been but a girl then, hungry for direction, for guidance, for power. That name was not the one she had been born with, but it was the one that she held as true for a long time before the sith discovered her. What would Saiah have done? She had fought her way off Rattatak, out of poverty, out of the hold of anyone who would enforce her will upon her.

Would she usurp this power for her own?

She remembered when she had found the message on her bed in the mercenary camp, the battles for the One Sith, the tuition un der Darth Ferus and the Dark Lord of the Sith. She remembered why she had become an assassin in the first place. She remembered the cold embrace of that nameless planet where she let the past die.

“Saiah is dead, Carnifex, she died for the One Sith."

One of the two sabres ignited in a furious snap-hiss, but it did not yet poise to strike him down. Instead, it cast a bloodshine hue that sharpened their silhouettes against the sheer walls of Fortress Imperious, broken only by the flashing of the crimson lightning tearing open the sky.

“You ask what I feel? Purpose.”

What purpose was that? Would she to serve a master for the remainder of her days, content to watch from the shadows while others rested on the laurels of her hard work? No, she was not content. She had never sought the throne of an Empire before, but the had deposed an Emperor once, and kings twice. If anything, royalty was something of a speciality.

She smirked under her helmet. “The name is Darth Ophidia, you would do well to remember it.”

The Rattataki moved her sabre, and with it the shadows shifted, setting the shadow of Ophidia taller than the shadow of Carnifex. In her other hand, she held her second sabre hilt ready, finger on the activation button and emitter directed at the lower back of Darth Carnifex.

Indeed, Kezeoth had failed, but she was not Kezeroth.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

​

Location: Fortress Imperious
Objective: Dash Them Against The Stones
Equipment:

• Kotsnwûl & Woljirtyûk​
• Jen'Shuk'Orok​
• S-5 "Juggernaut" Sith Battle Armour​

Tags: Darth Ophidia | K Kaine Australis

​

"Ah, purpose. I see."​

​

The Emperor turned, slowly and methodically, to face Ophidia as she ignited her lightsaber. The scarlet light cast dark shadows over both of them, the red glamor masking their features in a grim death's head. He did not reach for his weapon, his hands remained neutral at his side as his breathing slowed and subsided to a gentle rhythmic intake.​

​

"Saiah was purposeless, I remember. I was there the day you were inducted, I can vividly picture it in my mind as if it had just happened yesterday." He had been known as Darth Vornskr then, an identity he had discarded on Coruscant following the death of the False Prophet. "But Darth Ophidia? Yes, Ophidia is burdened with glorious purpose; Dark Councilor, mistress of Assassins, guardian of the Sith's legacy." He laughed curtly, a fiendish smile widening across his battle-scarred features. "For that was the purpose of the Assassins, was it not? To stand parallel with Tai Fa's Saaraishash, they defending the Empire's legacy while you defended the Sith's, even at the detriment to the other's convictions."​

​

The sounds of distant battle droned beyond the fortress, the battle's flow twisting and turning like a turbulent river threatening to swell its banks. "And in this moment, my old friend... What purpose drives you now? What end does Darth Ophidia, Lord of the Sith, and Slayer of Kings, seek?"​

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Location: Fortress Imperious, Concordia
Tag: Darth Carnifex , K Kaine Australis
Armour / Sabres / Belt / Edge of Atrophy / Wrist / Jin’Wodasir / Tsaisibola / Xiphos-class SSD / Satwasin
[/spoiler]

When he challenged the Sith Emperor, Kezeroth had no purpose, no greater cause but his own power. What could Ophidia claim was her greater cause? What drove her to ever greater lengths and made all other goals seem trivial? There was one simple answer to that question.

“There is only one purpose that matters; one goal that drive all other goals:”

Power? No. Power was a means to an end. What about conquest? The Sith thrived in conquest, but they did not require it. Sidious has proved as much when he usurped power without stepping on to a battlefield. Perhaps the end of the Jedi? Admirable, but no. She could fight the Jedi forever, and it would only make the Sith stronger. She did not require their end to meet her goals.

When her former master disappeared, and all things stood on the precipice of oblivion, she had shaped the Sith Assassins in her own image with her purpose as its own.

One purpose: One Sith.

“Darth Ophidia seeks the continuation of the Sith in perpetuity, our power, our conquest, our success by any means.” “So you better remember, my Emperor, that I would gladly give your life and mine for the strength and purity of our order.”

The Pale Assassin reached up to her helmet, breaking the seal with two fingers and pulling it off to reveal her bare, ashen head. The beskar hit the ground with a heavy thud as she looked up at the Sith Emperor. She was older now than when she had been recruited, marked with lines of age and concern, her skin grey with dark corruption. Lightning scars and dark tattoos, polished with a thin sheen of sweat from her previous exertion.

“Darth Carnifex, I believe in your Rule of Order, but you must never forget what it is I serve.”

The defiant smile on her purple lips remained, but her eyes were hard and sharp. Ophidia flicked her sabre out to the side and pointed at the war around them with the tip of the bloodshine blade.

“And what the consequences are should we fail.”

 

[Kovhorn]

Location: Little Keldabe
Objective: Battling Avernus
Allies: R Reyn Australis , K Kaine Australis The Network,
Enemies: The Sith Empire, Vandra Zambrano , Raya Najwa Zambrano , Avernus

Somehow someones shots had seemed to hit some kind of generator, causing an explosion. Surely couldn't have been his, he was being so careful to ensure he knew exactly who he was shooting at. But someone had hit it. At least, that's what it appeared to be. Raya Najwa Zambrano had very convincing illusions, something that Kovhorn didn't have a defense against. He paid little heed to the fire as it went, his armor was perfect for withstanding that type of thing. He might have been mistaken for ignoring the allies as they came too, but he'd definitely taken them into account as well. R Reyn Australis was with them, which meant he couldn't just have the ship fire at them. Same problem with allies showing up, they provided additional firepower, but at the same time could limit...the more reckless attacks.

They were on the run, though their soldiers were going to get in the way. He took a step back from the allied troops, "I'm going after the ship!" he said to them, rushing towards his ship which dropped down for him. The ship was not heavily armed, and he'd unfortunately neglected to consider the addition of ion cannons which would have been extremely useful in this situation. As it was, without his jetpack functioning, this was his only way to try and stop them.

It was fast, the ship was after-all designed to be a stealthy by swift ship rather than a pure combat vessel. He could handle himself, but he wasn't fond of space combat. It was not unfamiliar to him, having used his jetpack so much. But ships were so much less maneuverable than people were. He attempted to take off after the sith transport ship that Avernus , Vandra Zambrano and Raya Najwa Zambrano were attempting to get R Reyn Australis away in. "Let's see just what their transport is made of." he muttered to himself getting into the cockpit. He breathed in calculating and considering how in the world he could get them down without endangering the prisoner. He had to take in mind other variables too unfortunately, rockets from the ground potentially, the fact these were sith he was chasing down, and that inevitably they'd end up getting help from fighters. "Ok let's see, thrusters first, take those out, and It should prevent the transport from being able to go anywhere without blowing it up like if I hit the engines." he groaned breathing in and trying to time it all correctly while he aimed the dual laser cannon turrets. Cursing to himself slightly as he let off two shots at one of the thrusters. He was too concerned to let off anymore, it was too hard to ensure he could actually hit the darn thing without hitting something he didn't want to hit.

"Just had to take a hostage didn't you." he said shaking his head, trying to figure out how he could manage to avoid getting himself wrecked by the sith and choosing to go cloaked again, however much that could do, and back off. He could hit from a distance if he had to, but how far could force lightning and telekinesis really go if they were having that much trouble with him on ground?....right?


Ship: The Stril

Equipment:

Dragon-beskargam

LS-150_Heavy_Accelerated_Charged_Particle_Repeater_Gun (one extra strap) Ammo remaining main strap: 140

2 BSB (Blackmoor Sonic Blaster) (ten extra clips)

 

[Darth Carnifex]

​

Location: Fortress Imperious
Objective: Dash Them Against The Stones
Equipment:

• Kotsnwûl & Woljirtyûk​
• Jen'Shuk'Orok​
• S-5 "Juggernaut" Sith Battle Armour​

Tags: Darth Ophidia | K Kaine Australis | Raya Najwa Zambrano

​

"The Order is all that matters, Ophidia. Above all else, the survival of the Sith is paramount."​

​

It was the central foundation upon which the Sith Empire had been built upon, the Rule of Order. It postulated that the culprit for Sith disunity had been their rabid hunger for power above all things, to covet and to horde it even at the detriment of their own existence. In the past, the Sith had destroyed themselves in their greed for power until only one survival, Darth Bane, remained to redefine the Sith ideology in his image. For centuries, the Rule of Two had ensured that the Sith would survive and eventually supplant the Jedi. Though the Sith had come closer than ever before to eradicating the Sith, the failings of Vader ensured that the Sith would need to spend many more years clawing their way back from near extinction. Krayt lead the path forward in the coming generations, again redefining the Sith where loyal would be invested into the Sith Order and the reigning Dark Lord of the Sith.​

​

Krayt's doctrine, the Rule of One, inspired the majority of Carnifex's Rule of Order. Power was again given purpose in the modern era, the Order surmounted the individual as the sole driving factor in ensuring the Sith's survival and continuation. He knew that Ophidia was dedicated to this idea, it was why he had placed such heavy burdens on her shoulders knowing that she was capable of carrying them out. ​

​

"You have been a loyal compatriot for many years, and I know that you will do what is necessary. For now, this war has only just begun. Australis will meet his end one way or another." He stopped in his words as he suddenly remembered, his hand going to his wrist communicator as he opened the private channel between father and daughter. "Child, I am here. I have spent many years of your life teaching you to be strong, to be a powerful Sith. You have done admirable, and I am pleased with your progress. I will be with you shortly, ensure that our enemies understand what happens when they dare lift their weapons against the Zambranos and the Sith. Exterminate their whole family, my daughter, so that nothing remains of their worthless culture."​

 

[BobertEZ]

Location: Lorale Farmar: Descending into Sundari | Kascalion Giedfield and Xan Imcro: Sundari
Objective: Repel the Network
Wearing: Lorale Farmar and Kascalion Giedfield: Armorweave Sith Robes | Xan Imcro: Duranium-Alusteel Battle Armor
Wielding: Lorale Farmar: Smoldering Ire & Frozen Passion | Kascalion Giedfield: Double-Bladed Lightsaber | Xan Imcro: Gold Plated Lightsaber
Xenophage Primordial Playing: (X)
Allies: Irveric Tavlar | Vaulkhar | Open
Enemies: Adenn Kyramud | Open

The last wave of shuttles departing the hangars was barely able to survive the sudden barrage from the newly arrived Mandalorian forces, in spite of their near singular focus on the Vodvtaki. As the sky lit aflame, the vessels dodged and weaved when they could and shuddered against the impact of stray rounds when they could not; several were nearly destroyed by the flames and sheer bursting power of payloads and torpedoes, and more than one passenger was close to being knocked unconscious.

Lorale's eyes, shining with a bright green euphoria at joining the battle at long last even if it was in the role of a commander, fell upon the individuals that comprised his Breed. Anastasia Graves, Alrekur Varmarson, Krastourd Kril, Skoss Brik, Tiz Brik, Yacmoa Eaha'm, Crin Brag, Jargaza Yshu, Bolsca Imani, Thonn Krux, The Creeper, Vigilant Salvation, Pollous Byrnhorn, Ulger Osbald. His children, his chosen warriors and leaders of the masses in his army. His Scarlet Breed. They were perfect in their roles and immaculate in battle when unhindered by the ego that comes with their rank. He held a great appreciation for them, doubly so when none of them perished upon their shuttle being the singular vessel directly struck by the salvo from the Mandalorian ships.

"It appears we've been hit," Skoss Brik hissed as the vessel began careening towards the increasingly damaged Sundari dome.

"A direct hit," Tiz Brik affirmed. "No issue presented."

"The Vodvtaki will take care of those fools in no time," Ulger Osbald proclaimed in his booming baritone as he ensured that his vibrosword was still hooked to his belt.

Lorale merely sighed as the shuttle, now without a living pilot, who had been separated into several charred chunks of flesh and bone, spun out of control in its rapid descent through the air. If the other pilots were shouting questions or frantically screaming at the prospect of their liege dying so ignobly, the Wolf of Noxis could not tell. Instead, his eyes shifted from his Breed to the hole the shuttle would conveniently pass through, watching against the glare of the flames from the cockpit as the forms of thousands began to take clear shape. Buildings aflame,

And then the head of a massive creature reared into view, its scaly hide scraping against the damaged vessel and knocking it even further off course into the city's defenses. "A wondrous beast that is," Ulger stated with great interest. "Who crafted such a thing?"

"Taeli, without question," the Wolf of Noxis responded with a grunt as the shuttle shunted through a particularly tall building before colliding with the streets of Sundari, rather far from the main battle. "Showtime, children."

---

The heat of chaos brushed against the increasingly bloodied fur of Kascalion's proxy, his reddened eyes scanning from soldier to soldier, vessel to vessel, vehicle to vehicle, head to head of the great beast unleashed by the Sith. A magnificent creature, perhaps rivaled by none other. Kascalion would greatly appreciate learning of the techniques required to craft such a monster but now was not the time. Instead, his focus was solely on quenching the bloodthirst within his heart that had grown exponentially upon his release of the Ashen Devil that lay within him all days, not unlike the demon that once inhabited his dearest brother. Yet, this Devil lay within him since his birth from Mother, a Devil that desired all knowledge and power when sated, and blood and death when thirsty.

The Ashen Devil of Noxis. The True Heir of Typhon Dlukav, the one who one day would become the new Heart of Noxis. A burden the man who lived behind a facade of indifference and apathy would wish upon none else. A burden he had to now work harder on hoisting upon his shoulders due to his outbreak of ultraviolence. He pondered this new path as his claws raked across the throat of the last of an unlucky batch of Mandalorians who were too curious about what lay in the dark alleys away from their main force. With a lick of his cracking lips, the Devil Lion drank the crimson from the man's wound, uttering an undesirable growl as he did so. The Devil was sated only slightly and urged the man to hunt more, and so he leaped from the alleyway onto the rooftops nearby, his gaze filled with tears as he looked for more prey.

Rush them from behind when they are confined and claim their life to ease your heart of this strife. Fall to the high and look to the sky as they die and gurgle goodbye. Hunt, you glorious hunter and become their most feared confronter and affronter.

Igniting his double-bladed saber, the Devil Lion issued a challenging roar for all to hear within the city's dome and walls and launched himself into the air. Alleyway to alleyway did Kascalion hunt, slaying dozens by the bushel and drinking from their many wounds, sating the beast within little by little, only to find his true self craving more. Trading one Devil for another, blood brother. Smother and kill at will as you watch the blood spill for your fill. Drink and eat the bloody sweet in this chaotic heat. Dear Kascalion, the Devil Lion and Scion.

Such was the violence that he wrought that the man quickly lost all sense of time and himself, acting on muscle memory, letting the Devil within drive his heart and purpose. Only when he suddenly found himself in the main fray once again did he come back to his senses, face to face with the defense's commander, Irveric Tavlar, his saber raised to strike the man down.

Disengaging the saber, Kascalion quickly shifted back into his facade of apathy in an attempt to hide his nearly insurmountable fear and craving for flesh. Blood from uncountable souls unlucky enough to have been dragged into the shadows by his hand dripped from his fangs and hands, his reddened eyes slowly returning to their normal golden shade. On the outside, he appeared indifferent if slightly irritated, but inside, his heart pounded against his chest, threatening to shatter the sternum, his rising dread making him forget he was only inhabiting a proxy.

"General Tavlar. How are the defenses?"

 

[Darth Prazutis]

Location: From Fortress Carnifex, Bastion to Fortress Imperious, Mandalore
Tags: Darth Carnifex | Darth Ophidia

L O Y A L T Y​

Deep in the highest levels of the Imperial Palace reserved only for the royal family a lone pod stood.

It was protected by eight crimson clad members of the Imperial Crownguard who stood around the perimeter of the large chamber of dark steel, and technology. The very best servitors and technicians toiled silently on this completely sealed medical, bacta containment pod. In all appearances it was impossibly large, far too massive for any normal human to contain, yet something floated inside the liquid. A colossus clad in destroyed impervium battleplate, still welded to his flesh. Where olive skin once was its polished perfection was now charred black and broken it carried an appearance like cracked obsidian stone. A myriad of sensor nodes were attached in thin wiring through the pod itself to the figure who was none other than the Lord of Lies himself.​

​

The Dark Titan had been grievously injured during a fight with WolfMortum that saw the final chapter of his story written when the former High King and Jedi Grandmaster was killed by the Zambrano tyrant. A direct nova of pure light side energy collided with the Sith Lord and broke his form, attempting to burn his very spirit alive. Yet despite it all he survived. The skin of the giant had begun to seal and heal under the guiding hand of the soothing bacta medicine, and by all accounts the Sith Lord appeared unconscious and utterly motionless inside the massive pod. That was until a series of rapid blips from the consoles sounded an alarm that quickly drew the techs attention to the pod containing their master, their undying master as he started to move. A pair of eyes tore open they were deep pools of molten fire, the same glow that shined out of his mouth as it parted.​

​

While his body remained immobile his mind was on the move.​

​

It descended upon Moridinae and the Despoiler observed as the Mandalorian Remnants fought against the Sith Empire, his Empire. It was a war they saw coming and one his spy had personally notified him of, for he was the one to inform the Sith Emperor of their intentions, ensuring they were fully prepared for their arrival. Yet something drew his attention beyond the battle drums, beyond the deaths of thousands and the pitched conflict burning like white hot flames. It was an event unfolding before him and one so profound it actually forced the great giant awake, it forced him into no other choice but to act. So he began to move. The world began to blur and warble around the pod as its glass creaked, cracks beginning to form across its surface while the warbling grew more intense as he manipulated the very fabric of the force, reality itself. In one fell swoop the glass of the pod exploded and the world around it shattered like glass. ​

​

Moridinae.​

​

Just in front of the Sith Emperor in a space between Kaine Zambrano and the rattataki Queen of Shadows the world itself began to blur, before it shattered like tempered glass. The effect remained for a few scant moments before it vanished...but not before leaving something, or someone behind. A massive figure in a kneeling position. As he rose his body entirely obstruected the Sith Lady's view of the Sith'ari, a living wall barring her from him. While she guarded the Siths legacy, and Tai Fa protected the Empire's, it was his sworn duty to protect Kaine. He was his word, will, and wrath. He was both the Sith'ari's deadliest blade to wield against his enemies, and his greatest champion. But also? He was the guardian. It was a position symbolized rather perfectly by his complete obstruction of the assassin's view of Darth Carnifex. All roads to Kaine Zambrano went through him. In every way his position was created outside of the empires constitution, a direct extension of the imperial throne meaning he was literally above the law. In every way he was superior to every single Sith Lord, every single official in the whole of their intergalactic empire, second only to one, and he could only be commanded and dismissed by one. It was the Lord of Lies vigilance, his unique paranoia in planning for every contingency, every potential outcome, his targeting of allies and even friends in plans. ensuring he was prepared to target and kill even those closest to House Zambrano. No matter how loyal they were he needed to be prepared to defend Kaine against anyone and everyone...and now?​

​

He stood before the Queen of Shadows.​

​

While the Emperor spoke to the lady and into his communicator the Shadow Hand said nothing, his eyes locked into a laser focus on the rattataki sith lady. If she wanted to make her move? If she was going to try and assassinate the Emperor here and now? He was going to be ready, and she would have to go through him first. The tyrant whose cracked flesh glowed like orange veins beneath his skin. The giant wouldn't dare attempt a strike, it was a position ensuring that she understood the obstacles before her, and if she were to try, she would have to slam into the wall that separated Kaine Zambrano from the rest of the Sith Immortal. ​

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Location: Lernaean Base
Objective: ……..
Allies: Ellie Mors Darth Carnifex Joycelyn Zambrano Alexandra Feanor Darth Ophidia Vaulkhar BobertEZ Irveric Tavlar
Enemies: K Kaine Australis (...…..) Adenn Kyramud

Equipment: In signature

A smirk was tugging at the corners of her lips as her spell continued to ravage Kaine's arm, traveling along its length to complete mess it up. So he hadn't learned his lesson about Sith magic after the fight at Ossus. Pity. The tractor pull wasn't unexpected, not really, he already had her locked in place just as she had him in a Force grip. She had to commend him, with the small modicum of respect she had for the former Warmaster, that he was calling on the Force. A neophyte no doubt, but at least he was trying to gather the Light to stop...

The precise beam of Force Light at her, she prepared to use the hassatt-durr techniques she learned from the Baran Do to flow it away and through her... but she wasn't the target. Alex must have had an inkling that Taeli was not Australis's intended target of his attack as she intervened, trying to divert the Force Light away... but...

It struck her in the abdomen... right... where... Red eyes, full of darkness and hate, turned purple again in shock.

She staggered for a moment, hand shaking madly as she raised it to the point where Kaine had struck... where... Purple eyes widened... she... she couldn't feel... he... he... couldn't be...

It had been in the past week she discovered she would be having a boy, she had even been bouncing names for him off Fiolette. The girls had been excited to have a little brother on the way, someone they could play with. They had been sending Taeli images of the nursery decorated for a boy the last few days. Medraut was what she had been kicking around for the final name, Fio could figure out the middle name.

Now...

The pain blossomed in her chest, sharp, acute, world-ending... Force Light might not usually end life, but a 16 week old baby, still in the womb, still developing, the size of a small fruit... could not withstand such direct energy, such purging energy... in a single action, Kaine Australis snuffed out the existence of her son...

Everything slowed for her as the shock took hold, her vision tunneling, her heart rate accelerating, her skin growing clammy. She didn't even hear Alex, didn't even comprehend that Braith was casting a dark side tendril to strike Australis. None of that mattered to her in this precise moment, none of it, in these hyper-extended seconds, was even acknowledged. Her breathing increased, verging on hyperventilating, tears blossomed at the corners of her eyes...

Grief welled up, despair surging through every fiber of her being. He... he... he... her mind was blanking, refusing to really accept it... but for all she was, for all her power... there was... nothing...

Nothing... just a void... where he... he... he...

Alex's voice drifted through her mind, asking... asking the question... but... she would know the answer. Reality sped back up for her, the despair she was feeling at...

"No..." the word escaped her lips. "No... no... no no no NO!"

The last was released as a scream, one of complete and utter grief, the dark side radiating out from her in palpable waves. Her hands shook as the rage built, the pure... uncompromising, all-encompassing HATE she felt for the Mandalorian in the room. Purple eyes slipped back immediately to red, dark wisps rising from her fingers, from her shoulders, from all around her. An aura of darkness surrounded the deprived mother, a growl rose into her throat, morphing into a shriek of...

"KAINE!"

She would TEAR HIM APART! PIECE BY PIECE! EVERYONE HE HAD EVER LOVED, WHO HAD EVER SUPPORTED HIM WOULD DIE! SHE WOULD MAKE HIM WATCH, WHATEVER WAS LEFT OF HIM, AS HIS PEOPLE, AS EVERYTHING HE EVER BUILT AND CHERISHED BURNED!

Darkness twined around her, the aura of darkness changing at the bidding of its mistress. Braith had summoned one dark side tendril to attack Kaine, but a mother having her baby stolen from her... eight tendrils of pure darkness struck out from the aura around her, racing to wrap themselves around any part of the Mandalorian they could touch, to disintegrate his very being, his very essence.

For the Emperor, for every Force user in the system, they would feel her pain and rage. A rage of a mother could burn the galaxy.

 

[Raya Najwa Zambrano]

Objective: Exit to Daddy on Concordia; Gasp!
Allies: The Glorious Sith Empire Vandra Zambrano Darth Carnifex Avernus Taeli Raaf
Enemies: Network R Reyn Australis Kovhorn K Kaine Australis
Equip: Ice Cream Waffle Cone, Lightsaber, Swords, Armour
Post: 7

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Every breath is an ocean pressing on my chest, as the illusions of flame and slag combine with a shimmering of vectors. Forty Blackblades where there are twenty.

Sixty, where there are twenty. Each Blackblade tripling with seemingly three troops descending upon the golden armoured ones from three separate angles of attack in a swarm.

My breath stutters, as Vandra picks me up. The family my father built around us is strong. The House Zambrano is full of legends and god-lings and prodigies without limit. Here am I, the one loyal Light in a wealth of Dark, held up by my half-sister. Fed strength to keep the illusions strong without me blacking out. Nothing but a baby.

With Vandra’s help, we reach the gunship. More Blackblades reinforcing with blaster fire while Avernus deflects shots and guides the ship to us. My brain feels sliced in three directions, illusions firing upon Mandalorians, and the chatter about a ship swooping in behind. My feet fall from under me, Vandy-pander my pillar to keep me aloft. I gasp, a trickle dropping from my nose to bottom lip. Lips press together and taste copper. The Golden Bucket brigade are still making on vaguely our direction. How... Reyn must have something on him.

And my father’s voice cuts the wooziness of my current state. He heard me. In the back of my mind, I can still see the crackle of his lightning storm from the surface of Concordia. And yet…

… And yet even the Dark Lord of the Sith had time to reassure a worried, fearful daughter.

“Daddy.” His image appears to be kneeling? Or… some of the strength I remember in him is scant to be found. Missing. All of Daddy’s realities fade from my childish mind, ephemeral and ‘old person things’. “You have done admirable, and I am pleased…”

I crumble in my sister's arms, my brain ripped in three directions. Finally.

Even with my imaginative but irrelevant powers, my father is proud of me. I cough out a stutter, “Daddy…” What… it hurts? Yeah, pretty sure he’s hurting too. Pretty sure in a battle big as this, everyone’s hurting.

“Exterminate… Daddy it’s Ram. Adara’s brother. Yasha’s son Reyn… we… we played marshmallow fights when we were… ” Younger? Uncomplicated? I’m the girl who watched quietly while the adults in my life messed up worlds in their emotional serendipity. Nobody ever noticed Raya, another Zambini running through the Palace after my cray-cray mom. Until Taeli Raaf fixed my mother @Ahani Najwa Zambrano’s brain.

The Blackblades are efficient and lethal, the best and most seasoned of guards, specifically charged with ensuring the Zambrano Line’s safety. With killing beyond measure to keep us safe. Vandra gets me up into the hangar of the gunship, Blackblades stepping backward back into the ship to protect us, it’s working…

“We made i-HHKKKKTTT!!!!” Pain! Painy pain pain! My abdomen is exploding! It’s… my knees hit the floor, arms clutched around my stomach as the deferred pain of my Master Taeli Raaf at.. “No… no, no! NO!”

My mouth hangs open in an anguish radiating through Moridinae, an echo passing across an entire system at… “How… how could… who… who does…” Eyes swing wide open, my illusions crumbling at the shock, the loss of breath in my Force Master half a planet away. Nothing. The echo of a baby I bought some little combat booties for, with tiny bits of velcro instead of laces, soft soles made to look like armour…

… I cough out a sob for Taeli, her emotions swirling so forcefully I momentarily lose breath. Australis.

Kaine Australis.

“But… but fathers are supposed to protect babies… f-fathers are.. they… but… I don’t understand.” In my shock, I let go the illusions of extra troops, of explosions in ice cream shops. The White Current bleeds with the grief of Taeli Raaf, and Daddy’s words come into focus.

Exterminate their entire line. End them.

For this was what Mandalorians do. They cry foul while killing younglings before they could breathe, still in the bellies of their mothers. They’re boys who used to play with us, who would rather cut down two sisters than leave a battlefield without the glory of Sith scalps. For a chunk of rock? The slighted ills of generations past?

“NNNNNNGGGHHHH.” I rock back and forth to remind my lungs I can breathe, and in my panic, wrap myself in the White Current, invisible to all but fellow Fallanassi. And then Vandra, who feeds me her energy, who heard our father’s orders. Ice cream Man, and Reyn. The White Current floods around us, and once again I focus but on only one specific thing. “Take off! Take off! Take off!”

Unseen. Invisible. The entire ship, unseen. Invisible.

Safe. Unseen. Invisible. ​

Fed by Vandra’s energy, by Taeli’s panic and my own desire for safety, I can focus on nothing else, helpless but for Avernus and Vandra Zambrano and the Blackblades.

Now it makes sense, Daddy’s words.

A son for a son. ​

“You… have no freaking clue, do you? How much the girls in your life pay for your long leashes. What happened, Marshmallow-boy? Your Dad keep trying to kill us so many times you’re following? Can’t look at your friends without picking up something stabby? I’m trying to save you, for Adara’s sake. Stop biting my hand… Ram… your Dad, he… he killed a baby. You have little brothers, a little sister, I know you do. What… what would you do if someone killed Taika? Viggo? Gigi and Magnus? Please… you have one last chance to come with me, survive. Reyn, please!”

The ship dissipates from sensors, HUD’s, the naked eye. I feel the pitch of a pilot banking, rising in altitude, but outside things fade away. I have nothing left, but the panic of my Master, the pride of my Father, and the life of my best friend’s brother in the palms of shaking hands.

"I... I know how to save your Mom!"

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

Position: Sundari
Objective: Mandalore - Repel the Mandalorian assault ; Survive the Sithspawn.
Allies: Vaulkhar | BobertEZ | Taeli Raaf | Joycelyn Zambrano - The Sith Empire
Enemies: Adenn Kyramud - The Network
Sweat
Equipment:
Battle Armor
'Vishnu' Military Shield
DG-41 "Inferos" Disruptor Rifle
HG-88 'Big Iron' Hand-cannon

---

"Thermals! Out!" The Sith trooper sergeant sounded out from atop the rooftop before soon enough three of the Imperial Legionnaires cranked the switch of their thermal detonators - the rhythmic, urgent beeping sounding out before they heaved the explosives over the ramparts down over advancing Beskad warriors.

"AT - Thermals ; all of it!" The Sergeant barked out once more - the thick of battle drying out the orders with flechettes whirring past their ears and blasters digging into the metal and concrete around them. Madness - no mortal mind was meant to comprehend this form of conflict. Far evolved the primal hunters that any human or non-human race had grown from the weapons were too loud, too deadly and the expectations to tolerate any of it far too high. Death was dealt at margins higher than most any one could conceive as it had been for thousands upon thousand of years before - these Sith and Mandalorians fighting and dying in the same way, on the same soil as their forefathers before them. Only under banners of different shades of the Mythosaur and Crimson saber. Regardless it was all the same generation wide, existential struggle between Sith and Mandalorian that had been pulled along for millenia.

"C'mon, c'mon damnit! Give these Mando's hell! Like the General said n' the briefing! They don't deserve what they can't defend!" The sergeant barked out once more as his section continued to lay a hellish volley down unto the advancing Mandalorians beneath. Desperation addled his tone and cadence as it did the entirety of the Imperial officer corps present at Sundari with each inch ceded to the Mandalorian advance - even if it was paied with tonnes of shattered Beskar in tow.

"Sergeant! Watch out! We've- " And soon enough the section in its nigh entirety was brought under the weight of the Sithspawn Hydra.

---

"Sir, we've a full battalion or so ready for the counter assault whenever you're ready." A subordinate officer sounded out to Tavlar who responded with a curt nod of acknowledgement.

"Acknowledged ; time is in no one's favor - we want them led into the beast's clutches. We'll handle it after these Mandalorian bandits not long after." Irveric sounded off. He'd been through the thick of it with each of the living officers within the rank of his own elite 'Deathshead' Squadron - it would be a foolish maneuver to misplace trust in them. It was then that the 'Deathshead' Squadron began to form up pincers flanking the main advance of the Sith Leviathan.

With the rage of battle soon hitting Tavlar's lines it wasn't all too much longer before Kascalion appeared within the commanding retinue of the General - the crack of flechette and blasters only serving to activate the primal instinct of all the warriors around.

Soon enough Irveric turned to see the saber of a Dark Councilor before him held closely to his armored gaze. Standing deathly still he stared the Sith down behind a visage of Beskar steel before soon enough the crimson blade was snuffed into nothingness with a simple de-activation and characteristic pssssssht. Matching Kascalion pound for pound with his voice shaded deeply in frigid stoicness however derived not from indifference but of coolness within the raging chaos in battle - under the unfettered belief that an army's commander should be upright and hold existential contempt for danger. Motioning Kascalion in tow he took their conversation up a small set of stairs through an alleyway from the immediate danger.

"A dogged effort to say the least - Beskar past our walls if by my own doing, our positions here are superior to the open planes and the open fire of their ordinance. However that wretched hell-beast barely weighs in our favor. Its cut a swath through about as many of my own as it has the Mandalorians - soon as this cell is purged the wretched spawn is next." Uncompromising in his rhetoric. No Sith threat would wrap the banners over the sealed caskets.

"Regardless - these profligates need be driven out before we worry of anything else. My men are moving to trap the Beskad assault and lead them into the clutches of the beast." Irveric states, eventually pulling the hand cannon from his hip mounted bantha leather holster before slowly making way back toward the battle lines, a heavy blaster bolt digging into the earth near the General's feet as he tread back to formation.

"Their Commander is rampant on the field - if I've any command for you ; find him and end him." Irveric stately flatly.

---

Spoiler: Large Scale Actions Summary

• Deathshead Squadron seeks to drive pincers around the main assaulting Mandalorians through city streets and alleyways as the Sithspawn Leviathan rampages between the formations.

 

[Aaran Tafo]

Location: Moon of Concordia. Fortress Imperious Detention Wing
Objective: Break important looking Sithy things. Free any captured prisoners. DODGE
Tags: Felix Astermo Taru Cadera Lark

As the Imperial Soliders began to move to hunt down and eliminate the freed pirsoners. Aaran's own fingers traced over his commlink. A simple message sent via text was issued out. while the Sith legion mobilized.

Ten Seconds.

Of couse, what was going to happen in those ten seconds was up to chance. In a duel between those who could feel the Force. Ten seconds lasted quite a while when both combatants could move fast enough to appear as a blur to the naked eye. But, Aaran did have an advantage. One of his opponents was half dead and stumbling away, his other appeared to be fighting some form of internal conflict. He figured he could match either one of his opponents on a good day. And here they were not fighting at full capacity.

That made things considerably easier.

As the insane Sorcerer fired off his wave of darkness. Aaran moved, the slightly off-target blast of dark energy singing the edge of his robes. Ducking around towards Lark's blind side. And in the blink of an eye, the distance was crossed, the Force allowing the Padawan to ignore such things like inertia and momentum for a brief moment. Allowing him to close the distance between Jedi and Sith. The familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber extending audible as the silver blade was drawn.

And for Lark, it was probably a good thing that he was trained by one of the finest swordmasters availible. Because if not, he would probably be dead within the first strike. Lightsaber arcing out, striking at the apprentice's blind side. Aaran's own flurry of strikings were as fast as the wind. And a direct block from any of them knock the blade right from the hands of lesser men. Such was the sheer brute force behind each of his swings. Each one threatening to cripple or wound the apprentice if he did not react fast enough.

Because he was not the only one present who was trained by the very best. Wyatt Morga was a Battlemaster for a reason. And he had been kind enough to show Aaran a trick or three. But unlike his mentor, Aaran had finally decided that there would be no more second chances for the Sith. Sarrius, already half dead was skulking off, no doubt planning vengeance. He would have to be dealt with after Lark. As annoying as it would be, in order to give the Sorcerer's more innocent half a fighting chance. He'd have to engage the dominant personality fully. Pushing them to the absolute limit of both physical and mental strain. All so the younger personality could gain more of a foothold against his malevolent other half.

Sarrius could be dealt with later. Once Lark had been neutralised. Strong as the other Acolyte was. Aaran was doubtful they'd be able to scrouge up the strength to fully match him as they were now.

 

[Felix Astermo]

Location: Fortress-Moon of Concordia, Detainment Facility 7-C
Objective: Butcher the trespassers in the Emperor's name. Survive.
Equipment: Lightsaber (Red), Sith Lanvarok, and a curved ritual dagger.
Tags: Lark | Aaran Tafo & Taru Cadera
---

Even as his brother Sith faced off against the Jedi, Sarrius was half-dragged half-supported by the terrified officer, was moved to one of the cells that now gaped open. So much death, it was no surprise that the Jedi had been able to feel the fading life.

Collapsing to the ground, his trembling hands pushed aside an arm and a leg, revealing a terribly burned face - a woman, perhaps, though it did not matter. She did not matter. The officer did not matter. Only the Sith did.

Distracted as he was by his duel with Lark, Aaran would likely still be horrified to see the Pureblood pull a jagged ritual dagger from a hidden sheath, see him tear open the woman's throat, exhale in pleasure as his wounds healed, if only a little, from the stolen life.

It would not be enough to bring him back to fighting shape... but it did not have to be either.

"Rayiai tina wo, rayiai mochirsa wo, rayiai diâ satyi!" As the foul incantation left his lips, he slumped to the ground, head throbbing even as his eyes glowed a sullen orange. The secrets of the old Sith were his by birthright, secrets beyond the Jedi, bound as they were by foolish taboos.

The woman stirred first, then another, and another. All around him, the murdered dead awakened, rising awkwardly and stumbling forward with hatred in their eyes - his hatred, for they were but vessels for his wrath.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Location: Fortress Imperious, Concordia
Tag: Darth Carnifex , Darth Prazutis , Lirka Ka , Felix Astermo , K Kaine Australis , Taeli Raaf , Alexandra Feanor , Stardust Solus Skirae , Imperius , Ellie Mors , Tahlah Cadera

Spoiler

Armour / Sabres / Belt / Edge of Atrophy / Wrist / Jin’Wodasir / Tsaisibola / Xiphos-class SSD / Satwasin

The Order was all.

Darth Ophidia looked down at her ignited sabre, the red blade begging to be wielded, to drink of shredded souls and to feed her their power. She recognised how the blades urged her forward, like the constant draw of the dark side itself. She did not bar herself from its dark impulses, but navigated the darkness by the principles of the Sith.

The Sith was eternal.

The sabre extinguished before reality shattered between them like a mirror, depositing the Sith Emperor’s personal watchdog. Darth Prazutis stood between them like a wall of black iron, staring down at her as if he knew what had transpired in entirety. She stared back, unimpressed.

“Prazutis, you are late.”

She put her foot inside her helmet and tossed it up into her arms, then rested it against her hip.

Ophidia made no deference toward the Shadow Hand, no sign of respect, nor sign that he had interrupted anything but a conversation. She knew, if she had so desired, the stroke would have already fallen with none to see it. It was not Prazutis that stopped her, but Ophidia’s own decision. Her unblinking eyes stared up at him, embers set in a face of ash. She then looked under his arm at the Emperor in conversation with one of his daughters.

The smirk remained on her lips as she flicked the switch hidden in her armour. Her body vanished, and her presence melted away like fog in the night. Her footfalls were soundless, by decades of practise and specially made footwear. The Force dampened the sounds of her clothes and armour, even her breath was baked into nothingness. She left.

Leaving Prazutis to stand in front of nothing.

She and Carnifex had their moment, now she left the Zambranos to their own company. Inside her containment, Ophidia was still rife with focused anger. And while she and Carnifex had come to an understanding, their conversation was not over. She glanced over her shoulder, breifly, as she walked along the rampart, helmet still resting on her hip, sabre still lingering in her right hand; coiled around her left arm, the tsaisibola nestling its head into Ophidia's robes as Taeli's scream of rage and loss sent tremors through the Force.

She looked to the Emperor and remembered.

 

[Eversor]

Objective: Self-Preservation
Allies: ???
Enemies: Curtis Learchin | Loreena Arenais-Valhoun

Darkness enveloped the two borne from utter passionate rage. As the man and acolyte would collide, Silas maneuvered the hilt of his weapon with an elegant twirl to throw off predictability. As crimson clashed against crimson, and sparks glittered against the black like stars among midnight sky, the acolyte was overcome mentally by the unknown passenger within his own flesh. "...They have been wounded.... disgraced...are you complacent in this cause? Or.... are you... seeking more...?" Silas felt it. A massive tremor ripped through the Force itself - incomparable pain, such anger and sorrow caused his entire body to shudder with indescribable intensity.

Silas backed off from his opponent. Visibly confused and shaken, unsure of how to proceed when everything he was as a man was being split to pieces and obscured. Why was this happening to him? Who was the man in his head? Did this correlate to the visions he had seen time and time again? Nothing made sense anymore, and the young acolyte could hardly cope and pretend nothing was wrong. He collapsed to his knees. Lost in a daze.

"...There is more to this life.... more to the stars... more than the Empire..."

A tear rolled down Silas' exposed face.

"...Trust me... I was once part of it..."

The whispers died, and a migraine set in. Silas looked to his would-be target, almost as if trying to seek help.

 

[Mig Gred]

Location: Ka’pruni.
Objective: Dual Cara Dorniarn . Find the miners. Blow the mine.
Allies: The Network and allies. K Kaine Australis Adenn Kyramud Stardust Solus Skirae [
Enemies: TSE and allies, Cara Dorniarn Karina Lowe Timaz Zi Dipat
Gear: In bio

Mynock was quick to dart back as fire poured onto him. Why could his fellow droids be as easy as organics, or even B1s. It was a miracle any of them were still around or made. They were like droidekas. Shielded. Maybe some old tricks would work though. The droid came in again, trusting both his Beskar and his frame this time. The Magnaguard moved quickly, but this seemed to change the moment he got close to one of these droid. While his main body movement was quick, the mechanical being's hand pressed forward slowly. When he got hit hand close, he'd attempt to rip the droid's circuitry out.

Meanwhile, Mig gave the Dorniarn a stern look from under his visor. He was surprised that she almost didn't expect him to keep using his weapon. Mig may have been less aggressive than his peers, but he was still a Mandalorian. He wasn't going to pull his punches, and it seemed his opponent now wasn't either. Mig went to strike again, this time from his right, but it was parried away, leaving him open as a stab went into his gut. Of course a place without much plating. He let out a pained growl, and quickly delivered pushed the soldier back. He looked at the injury for a moment before something hit him.

Fear.
Anger.
Hate....

No. Rage. Pure rage. A rage like Mig had never felt before. This was something different. This was... he didn't know. Where could this much rage come from? What could cause this? What... what could... this...? He was never good enough at the mental stuff to pin things down. What he didn't pick up on at first though was that it seemed to be affecting him. Under his helmet, his one natural eye had become a malted silver/blue and pale yellow. Mig clenched his fist, charging more Lightning before releasing it on Cara. It was different though. More raw power, and less of the precision of his last attempt.

While this happened, some explosions began to rock the outside facilities. Apparently at least a couple of charges got placed, and they finally decided to set them off.

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Location: Ka'pruni mine yard.
Objective: Finish the duel with Mig Gred

___________________________________________​

Anti-material railgun shells sparkled like stars. They flew from the Lancers as the drones poured out their violence on those outside the facility. Only four of the bipedal drones had remained to meet the Legio squads. They dashed through the cover of dead forest to launch their grenades then scurry back to send forth volleys of gunfire again.

The Scourges stood as blue domes, their shields glowing in the waning light of day while twin cannons belched out heavy fire. Perhaps being ripped apart by bullets was a better death than being roasted alive in one's personal armor. But what an ironic sight when a Mandalorian's trademark is their oven. Twenty Scourges turned into fifteen as the shielded Mandalorian squads bulldozed through their number, the squads still unaware of what awaited inside.

Elsewhere, the fifty members of West Team were buzzing through the halls of the facility. Some of the legionnaires had assisted Command Sergeant Karina Lowe , guarding her and the good doctor Timaz Zi Dipat . Their safety was top priority now.

Meanwhile, down in the plaza, a certain magnaguard had seized the circuits of a Scourge. But at that moment a blast--no, a series of blasts, exploded around the outside of the facility. It was muffled at the depth they were located but the effects were felt. Small rock debris fell from the ceiling and metal groaned from the areas of detonation.

They were here. The barbarians had survived the mine yard. Mandalorians were now inside, one even calling out for an alor that existed outside. Twenty-nine Scourges surrounded the miners. Those that had focused their attention on Mynock had an overriding order engaged and they turned from him. There was no Command Sergeant to tell them to disengage, to cease their directive. It was filed under damage control and preventive measures. The Mandalorian hoard must not be bolstered.

Facing the miners with glowing cannons the Scourges opened fire. Granted there were many miners, and a number escaped under the cover of other bodies. They escaped to be detained by legionnaires or taken by those who triggered the catastrophe.

Outside waited East Team and the droid forces.

- - -​

The vibroknife found a sheath in Mig's gut. For little more than an instant were he and Cara locked in close quarters before she was shoved off. The explosions behind were irrelevant, her men would contain the situation. Cara regained her step and clenched a fist, already in the motions of throwing the attack when she felt it.

"Ah--!" She grabbed her stomach and winced from a phantom pain. Feelings of loss and rage hit in waves that only grew in their intensity. Where did it come from? What caused it? Cara saw that Mig too was aware of the sudden phenomenon.

The surge of emotion was exactly the opposite of what she wanted. She had just subdued her own, now the fuel of another's had been poured onto the fire. She didn't need them nor did she want them. The sensation of loss overwhelmed her, dredging up past wounds and opening the scars. Rage was simply the salt to rub in them.

Lightning surged from his hands in an attack more powerful than last. She wasn't far enough for the molecular shield to catch it and she threw up her hands to take the brunt of the assault. The Force about her arms took the lightning well, but stray energy still found the ultrachrome pieces of her armor. That energy was quick to heat them, and Cara grit her teeth as the ultrachrome overtaxed its dispersing properties. Mig was nothing but a dead man behind a T-visor, and Moridinae would be his grave with its dust as his casket.

A knife still protruded from her enemy's frame and it was time to take it back. With one arm still shielding from most of the lightning Cara stretched out the other, a telekinetic grip latching around the knife handle. She planned to rip it out.

The red blaster bolt passed in a blur. The familiar sound of voices obscured by Imperial helmets were close behind. Cara backed up and looked toward the voices as more bolts followed.

"Commander," one of the five troopers called out, "get back!" A thermal detonator was in his hand. The others took aim with blasters, firing at Cara's dueling partner.

"No!" She positioned herself between the Mando and the legionnaire's fire, the bolts harmlessly absorbed into the molecular shield. She tossed a telekinetic blow at the trooper wielding the thermal detonator to throw him back.

She was furious at their disobedience, at the Mandalorian, and at whatever this foreign rage thrust on her burned against. And, for a moment, she was completely distracted.

 

[Alwine Daye]

Location: Fortress Imperious, Concordia
Wearing: Armor | Lupine Blood Stone
Wielding: WindWhisper
Allies: The Network & Friends
Enemies: TSE
Specific Tags: Lirka Ka

Alwine looked at her friend with wide eyes, taking in the words that were now streaming out of her mouth almost like violent poetry. These were not the short and oafish sentences that Lirka had used in the past.

Everything within Alwine knew that this indeed was Lirka, that this could not be someone else. Through the Force she could sense her, that presence that could belong to not a single one who was not Lirka, for it carried with it the scars that the gargantuan women had collected over her lifetime. Or at least, that was how Alwine enjoyed describing it when she had to put it into words.

"I have chosen my fate," Alwine answered then, her voice her strong and as certain of herself as it had always been, "I have chosen a fate that sees Empires like these end. I have chosen a fate in which the organization I have joined, is keeping its own word. I have chosen a fate which leads me to freedom."

Looking up at her tall friend, the petite woman sighed.

"Have you chosen this, Lirka?" she asked gently, "Is being part of the Sith Empire truly what you wish to be?"

She remembered the horrors of the last time. The last time she had seen Lirka, on one of the confederate planets. She had been all… wrong. As though someone had been messing with experiments on her before either releasing her into the wild, or losing control. But the Confederacy was not meant to do those type of things, not in any way that could be traced, at least. It was… It still was, too bizarre.

"Would you like to come with me away from this place, jatha'la rewt uss?"

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Mandalore
Objective: Objective II – kill stuff. Uncover the mystery of the turkeys of war.
Wearing: Armatura | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | The Sofitor
Wielding: 8 Nozhi Blades | 1 Whimsy Knife | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Clarion | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke | Combat Gauntlets | Tessen | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader KD-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Allies: Omfg, I can't believe Scherezade is allied up with the Mandalorians. Hell hath frozen over, folks! | Open
Enemies: TSE & their friends | Darth Sephi | + Open

Somehow, in the heat of the battle, Scherezade had blinked during the wrong time. A fraction of a second was enough to turn the tide around, was enough to make a win become a loss, turn the living into the dead.

Her neck was grabbed and she let a small sound out as her pipes were blocked, but what had caught her attention was that he, too – was bleeding. The blood rushed out of his mouth, and his hands still around her neck, the Sithling smiled as though she had at last seen the light.

"Bleed for me," she whispered, and dropped her lightsabers. All her blades in the air froze mid-motion as her concentration was now diverted – not away from the elf, but towards his insides.

Never before had she tried to do this to an opponent so strong. With the masses of faceless enemies to fight, it had always been easy after the first few time. Always had demanded a few moments of her time, or more pending on size of group.

But him…

Scherezade called to the blood. Every droplet of it within his body, she reached forward, trying to grab them all through the Force. Blood was her domain, blood was her power, blood was the only thing she could do better than fight, and she dived as deep down as she dared in that blink of an instant, reaching out to call the blood out of the elf's body, to let it pour out through his eyes and nose and pores.

A scream erupted from her throat as his lightsaber beam hit her arm. By the Force, she'd be grateful later for her armor. This wasn't a simple fight where she'd battle a sabercat while wearing nothing but denim and cotton - this was how people lost limbs. There was no need to worry yet for her arm being lost; her armor was constructed with many forms of damage in mind, lightsabers being among the leading one. But it didn't mean it did not hurt. Her choice in lightweight armor had severely limited the amount of damage she could absorb through it, and while her arm remained firmly in place, the vibrations of pain still coursed through her body, starting right there where the Sephi had landed his blow.

"Bleed!" she half shouted half commanded, trying to channel the pain into the Blood, her knives around them in the air beginning to drop to the ground, one by one.

 

[Lirka Ka]

She could see the surprise etch across the face of Alwine Daye , Lirka had changed much since she had been reborn. More mature than she had been, in her own savage and brutal way, seeing the Galaxy not through senseless hedonism but instead pure and utter devotion to a single and complete idea: to break Thustra free, to bring things back to the way it had been all those years ago. The Empire had offered her this, or well, she had offered the Empire it. But that doesn't matter! Thustra was her's, that's what mattered.

"You have chosen wrong, as I did in my own youth. You are squandering your potential, the path you have fallen upon has no future but that of mewling hatred and failure. Glories temporary, victories fleeting, an empty existence."

Lirka knew well what these fleeting notions of deciding your "fate", she had made the same when she had left home for the wild and untamed chaos of the Underworld, lived her life as a gladiator for so long. An empty and hedonistic existence,.

"Are you so blind as to think I care about the Empire? It is no different than my ceaseless fighting under the Confederacy, and the banners of dozens of Crime Lords before. Thustra is all that matters! To have my throne taken from it's captors! And with the Empire at my back, I shall have it. I will crush the Barbarian scum, rend the Jedi into broken corpses and dead religions. And Thustra shall been enlightened beyond what any could fathom...

She paused, considering the offer: only briefly though. She had hungered for the comradery that was irreplaceable by afraid politicians and the nationalists of her new Bodyguard. Someone who could understand the wider picture of what Lirka even was, without the fear of it being used as the knife in her back. She would try, as she always did. But this time, it was beyond just having something nice to put in the records.

"...Join me. Stand by my side, let me teach you this enlightenment: to see the world as I see it now. Stand by me as I free Thustra from it's Jedi Conquerors, as we finish our work and end the trash that inhabits this system. Let me show you the errors of your ways, before it is too late!"

There was pure, bubbling, emotion surging force from the distortion of her helmet. A desperate attempt, the final attempt.