The Sacking of Coruscant

[Xevek Nekonis]

Location: Courtyard of the Sith Temple
Objective: Defend the Temple and Nyte Ignis
Allies: Sith ([member="Nyte Ignis"])
Enemies: Invaders ([member="Aela Talith"])


Xavka let a bloodthirsty smile grow on his lips and, with that being the only part of his face visible, it made for an insane and unnerving image as his sword flashed through the air, spilling the blood of those near to him while protecting himself from blaster bolts as he threw himself into acrobatic movements. The feint white haze around the blade of the sword was the only sign of the fact that he was using the Force to imbue the sword with the ability to resist blasters and lightsabers.

Behind him he felt the collapse of the massive entrance way to the Temple as an explosion rang out. Sending his mental thanks to who ever it was that had made that attempt, Xavla grasped one of the large shards of rock through the Force and sent it flying before him. It flew through the air, slamming into enemy after enemy as it continued its path before finally coming to a stop a good forty meters away from the Zabrak.

Letting out a feral laugh that sounded closer to a howl than anything, Xavka turned to continue spilling blood, almost completely lost in the haze of instinctive blood-lust when he felt something that shocked him out of that state. Whirling around, he directed his attention in the direction of the nudge he had felt through the Force only to observe his mate approaching a woman who's strength within the Force could easily be felt. 'Stupid woman, I told you to survive.'

Biting out a curse Xavka set of into a run towards the two women. Leaping, Xavka landed on the shoulders of one Jedi, using her body as a surface to push of from. Twisting in the air, he slashed his sword across her throat, sending her to the ground, choking on her own blood as the life slowly left her. Landing in a roll, Xavka came up releasing a wave of the Force into the chest of the man before him, sending him flying backwards at a rapid speed, the audible sound of cracked ribs ringing out. But Xavka paid that no mind, already running.

Seeing a group of invading soldiers gathered before him, the last blockade preventing him from reaching his Mate before she died. Xavka leaped into the air while arcs of white lighting dropped them to the floor. Seconds later, just as he landed, Xavka felt the men's presences within the Force fade as their hearts gave up the fight against the electricity tearing through there bodies. Looking up to see molten fragments be thrown towards his Mate, Xavka felt his rage encompass him.

Baring a split second thanks to Darth Ferus for teaching him Art of the Small, Xavka pushed his body into a Force assisted leap towards the Jedi that dared to strike against his mate, ignoring the searing fire that his left thigh became from the movement, the pain did not matter, he had to defend his mate. At the same time as he swung his sword forwards to separate the Jedi's head from her neck, he threw the body of one of the recently dead soldiers towards Nyte, aiming for just in front of her so that he would intercept the molten rocks.

 

[Reverance]

Location: Coruscant Sith Temple
Objective: Not sure yet
Allies: One Sith
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance
People, not sure enemy or friend: [member="Ijaat Akun"], [member="Chevu Visz"]
Equipment:

Spoiler

Amphistaff
Lightsaber
Chom-Huun
Voxyn Al'Do
War-Torn Armor
Armorweave robe

The robe stood still, a monument frozen in time for the gaze he offered to the statues. Like a man of reverence, he placed a hand upon the foot of one, acknowledging accomplishment for what is was. Time passed yet the remnants of these actions lingered, dust settled but clinging, not yet prepared for the release. Not prepared to be forgotten, to waste away through the passing of time. With cowl obscuring his face, he tilted against the weight of such great beings, long weakened by their own loss of vitality. How sad, he thought, to drift aimlessly by as driftwood within a stream. No impact but the temporary wake, only the monks and acolytes, studying upon old scripture, remember the practices of such lamented individuals.

What a shame, he thought, as he drifted from one statue to another. "Were we such burdens..." He whispered, a flame licking at the corner of the wall, sandstone charred black from repeated burning. "That our importance be weighed by the size of our gravestone..." He moved once more, this time to a sconce burning brightly as a centerpiece. He pushed his voxyn hand over the fire, twisting as the beast screamed and thrashed with internal bile. The ooglith curled back to reveal the black skin beneath. "Or do we mean something more...the pain we bring, the scars we leave behind...are they recalled less fleetingly?" He turned his head.

The sith acolyte, Zabrak in race, looked confused. "Alarms are sound..." Gabriel cut him off with a grab of the throat. "I wasn't finished..." Gabriel looked up towards the dusty ceiling and smiled, the cowl falling down to reveal the scarred visage beneath. "We are being attacked, again." He cracked his neck, squeezing out what life was left of the acolyte. Like ringing out a dish towel, the body fell to the ground, dry and lifeless. Gabriel made a 'tsk' sound and looked down the hallway, leading to where a holocron was stored. "Lackluster...no monument will bear you name or image."

Pulling up his hood once more, he continued to linger. Perhaps he was waiting, perhaps he cared little for the impact of those invading the planet. Perhaps he was merely tired, weary of time wasted protecting things that didn't need protecting. Either way, the result was the same.

 

[Judah Lesan]

Objective: A
Location: Heading inside
Allies: @OS
Enemies: [member="Chevu Visz"]

Xander stopped in his tracks. While the Jedi had made quick work of the turrets, Xander's focus was no longer on the battle going on around him. His tunnel vision, his tendancy to be obsessed, kicked in again. The Mirialan Jedi, she was familiar. Xander never forgot a face, nor did he forget a presence. Chevu Visz, he'd seen her on Tatooine when she was being sold as a slave. He'd first met Animus Malgus there. The Mirialan was strong in the force, he'd sensed that from the beginning. He had wanted to claim her that day, train her, maybe more, but when all hell had broken loose, he'd lost her. Here she was, on the wrong side of the conflict. His duty was to end her life, but Xander was never a Sith who concerned himself with duty. He did what he wanted. Xander always had.

He chased her into the temple. The force powered his legs. When they had met she was untrained, and he was a Knight. Now Xander was a Sith Lord, she would not out run him. Xander would find her, and then he would get some answers. Perhaps today he would even succeed in turning a Jedi to the Sith. Had the dark side smiled upon him at last. The cruel mistress was rarely kind to him.

"You can't run from me, and if you try to hide I will find you," Xander called out as he deactivated his lightsabers. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you. You've managed to make a very short list of people who I'm willing to extend grace and mercy too. There those among this empire who cannot even boast that."

He stalked her, searching for her presence as he spoke. The alien was not far, he could sense it, but why had she not come out to meet him. Certainly she rememebered him. The pause made outside the temple told him that much. He'd only tried freeing her that day, and even offered her a way out from the slaver. The slaver would have sold her to him to had it not been for the attack. How to entice her back to him?

"Many lives will be lost today. Yours does not need to be one of them. You're lucky you came across me and not another."

 

[The Hound]

Objective: C

The Hound stood vigilant, always protecting, only moving on command from above. A subtle nudge lodged him from his vigil however. He stood from his seated position on the obsidian stool, two hounds looked up to him expectantly only to receive a gruff exhale from the nostrils of Vahl's Hound. The Alpha of the pack, he pulled his sword from the tile in the floor, bringing with its black blade dust and cobwebs. The deep black pits where his eyes sat lit up with aged yellow purpose, his long red hair flowed behind him magnificently and contrasted eerily against his paste white carapace.

To the prisons he went, to "protect" the prisoners of war and the soon to be converted from the Rebel Filth. All would bow to Her in time. Those that crossed his path would simply meet her sooner than others...And not in the way that was promised to the Vhal. For these poor men and women would meet her in Oblivion.

 

[Veino Garn]

Objective: A
Location: Blocks away
Allies: [member="Julius Sedaire"] [member="Darth Raijin"] [member="Judah Dashiell"]
Gear: Jensaarai armor, Amulet, Bolter Lightsaber Occluder
----------------

Was this an Underground operation or a Galactic Alliance operation? Veino wasn't entirely sure. This was very clearly an open military strike against a high priority target, and he was geared for it, but the plan of attack was different. He peered out from his dingy apartment. The coast was clear, although the alarm had been sent out and he could hear blaster-fire tearing through the streets. Up above, in orbit, he could make out the shapes of warships moving into battle formations. Traffic across the massive city had stopped. Sirens began to break out. Hopefully any resistance cells would go cause havoc elsewhere. Divide and distract. Force the Sith to risk loss or pull forces back from Contruum. That was what he was hoping for. Cause so much damage and pose such a threat as to force them to recall their hand.

He reached down to the table and pulled on his helmet, pausing as he adjusted to the weight. He slung the bolter across his shoulder, ensured his pouch of durasteel spheres were full, packed the grenades, explosives, and plasma torch into his bag and slipped out in the street, dispersing his Force presence into the Unifying Force, essentially making him indistinguishable from the universe. This was delicate. The frontal assault was taking place against the main gates of their temple complex. This was why the Jensaarai enclave was hidden and kept secret by rather dubious means. Can't attack the front door when you don't where it's at.

But now was not the time for that. He scurried out into the alley, dropping to a crouch behind a dumpster, grimacing at the faint odor that permeated the air. Sith or no Sith, he didn't think that would get any better, no matter who ruled the planet. He could see no reason for fighting over it so often, other than its administrative and symbolic significance. It was a massive drain on resources and tied up enormous amounts of military power to defend, let alone pacify. Now was the time for action.

He reached down and grabbed the drainage grate, lifting it up with a screech, pausing to look around. Clear. He made a hand-signal to his team before dropping in. The nice thing about cities of any size, and certainly ones as massive and ancient as this one, was that they always had a network of tunnels and infrastructure beneath the surface. The city depended on it to keep it from choking on its own refuse. That would always be a problem, regardless of the galactic power in charge. He had studied old schematics of the area and marked out a route. Then through some creative transitions, they could access the temple complex. There were no schematics for that, so he would have to pull some up from the inside. One last thing to do. A message, to the Republic Jedi he assumed would be at Contruum, [member="Corvus Raaf"], [member="Kian Karr"], and after some moments of consideration, [member="Mantic Dorn"]. Short, simple message.

Galactic Alliance assaulting Coruscant. Use to best advantage.

He let himself drop into the tunnel, wincing as the armor pulled him off balance when his boots landed in the sludge. A cloud of some putrid odor assailed him stronger than the Dark Lord himself could ever manage. Veino grimaced, making a mental note to upgrade his filtration system. But so be it. He moved aside from the opening, pulling the Occluder from its holster. Not enough room in here for the bolter. Not yet, anyway. In his other hand, he activated a glow-rod, lifting it to illuminate the tunnel, throwing harsh shadows across the walls. He moved along the tunnel, trudging through the sludge. The others would follow. They knew what they were doing and time was too precious to spend waiting. He sensed no danger here, although a great shadow loomed nearby around the temple complex. It would be... unpleasant to enter. He took several deep breaths, letting the tensions dissipate and stillness overtake him, which he applied to the walls around his mind. It felt like [member="Darth Hauntruss"]. She was the only one he knew capable of such powerful Dark Side applications.

Unless the Dark Lord was present. In that case, well, what use was information and destruction? He'd revise and go for the Emperor. But until that was confirmed, he would not seek him out. He strode on, listening for his team to follow him.

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Objective A
Location: Drop Zone
Allies: [member="Aela Talith"] [member="Chevu Visz"] [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]
Equipment: Wooden quarterstaff, medical bag
[member="Lucas Gravois"]

Tiland opened his eyes as the freighter landed. Crashed may have been the better answer, as it rocked him and sent him tumbling from his meditative trance. [member="Adele Adonai"], he could sense, with her meditation, lending some sense of sanity to this chaos. Blaster fire ripped through the air, sparking small fires that rippled along the torn duracrete. Hopefully none would hit a gas line. That would be devastating. The soldiers and Jedi rushed from the ship, heading into the whirlwind of dust and death. He could feel it. Oh, could he feel it all. So many powerful soups calling out to him, yearning to be devoured. He took a deep breath and settled himself in the Force, wrapping it deeply around himself, letting it absorb the hunger.

Now it was his time to serve. Not in death and destruction like the rest. That would destroy him. He waited until he felt the first GA soldier fall and then he sprang from the ship, rather surprising, given his apparent age. It would almost be rather comical to observe, as he pulled up his rather dress-like robes, revealing the wrapped gaiters beneath and sprinted in what appeared to be impossibly fast for a few moments before sliding in behind a chunk of blasted walkway, pulling out his trauma kit.

He paused to catch his breath, surprised at the "elegance" in which the Force had propelled him forward. Now for the difficult part. He studied the man. Blaster bolt through the armor to the upper right abdomen. Tiland pulled out a bacta-patch and stuck it over the wound, reaching into the living flesh with the Force and nudging them to knit back together. He shifted his focus to the man's mind, sending him a surge of comfort and peace. That was enough for now. Others had more critical injuries. He grabbed his quarterstaff and propelled himself, robe fluttering behind like some absurd cape, over the duracrete and scuttled to another injured.

He paused. He felt something familiar, something very much like himself. One of his people. Another Anzat. Hopefully the other would stay far far away and not get involved. He had no desire to meet one of his kinsmen, and certainly not here. He resumed his work, pausing as he sensed GA troops shooting themselves. What was it they saw?

He reached out with his mind, probing them, before recoiling in horror at the fears that haunted them. A mental attack. Could he counter such a thing? He had no idea. But this woman before him was dying, so he would save her first.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Objective: A
Location: Sewers - Blocks away
Allies: [member="Veino Garn"] [member="Darth Raijin"] [member="Judah Dashiell"]
Gear: In the Sig (plus standard canon lightsaber w/ no frills)

Secrecy. It was not something he was entirely born to, but it wasn't something he was terrible at either. It just usually never fit into his plans really. He had never mastered the trick of dispersing himself into the Force as Veino seemed to have done. Nor had he really taken the time to dress to casually this day. The warden cloak, for the most part, hide all but the feet of his form, and those weren't too terribly armored. To the casual observer he was just a bum in a dirty cloak laying near a sewer access. As he saw Veino go by he shambled up and over to where he had gone, and dropped in, cloak flaring and flapping open to reveal his vaguard armor, holstered pistol, and the lightsaber hanging at his hip.

Landing, he wrinkled his nose in disgust but said little, drawing the Cylix bolt pistol from it's holster and glancing about, taking up a defensive posture, pistol extended, scanning the surroundings as he did so. It was highly unlikely in the extreme that anyone or anything would be down here, but the nagging presence he sensed couldn't be ignored. It would be arrogance and hubris in the extreme to do so. For the moment, his nose didn't pick up the odor he had splashed down into, but a second later as his feet churned up the filth he wrinkled his nose, spitting slightly into the debris.

As he tried to block the scent, he nodded to Veino and stepped out of the entry way, smiling a bit as he gazes about, smiling at the simplicity of the plan thus far.

 

[Placeholder 04]

Objective: Take over the PTD/plot Dark Lord murder
Location: Ways away from planetary defense controls
Allies: [member="Ijaat Akun"]
Enemies: [member="Reverance"], others...

Cyril had envisioned his next trip to Coruscant would revolve around the destruction of the Dark Lord of the Sith. The monstrous figure had struck him down as a Padawan; thrown him from the planet's highest levels into its most decrepit pits. Cyril, more than most, had reason to see the One Sith's greatest figurehead dead. Unfortunately, that was not the alliance's current objective, nor could he assault the shadowy figure all on his own. He had no doubt that guards awaited him -- dying on the steps was not the way he wished to go.

So he'd allowed himself to be relegated to an objective that was more important to the assault itself: dealing with the planetary defense system. What happened to it was of little import to the Jedi Master -- he only wished to see its guns turned away from the coalition's ships. He'd come down in a small shuttle alongside a team of coalition soldiers. Unfortunately, that shuttle had met its met its fate when it took an anti-air round to its chassis. The vessel had been forced to make a crash landing someways away from the target site, and most of its passengers were too wounded to move.

Cyril had helped the healthy soldiers move their comrades out of sight, and taken to the streets. Those men could protect themselves -- Cyril was needed elsewhere. He patched in to the TACCOMM, and made a brief search for any friendly FOF tags in the area. With a click of his tongue, he tuned into the channel designated for those working on the same objective.

"This is Cyril Grayson. Who made it through the atmosphere?"

 

[Darth Kentarch]

Objective: Defend the Academy
Location: Objective A
Allies: Sith
Enemies: Galactic Alliance and Allies.

The sound of the freighter smashing into the ground grabbed Kentarch's attention. From his meditation he stood and promptly moved over to a nearby window. Smoke plumed into the sky as hundreds of lights from lightsabers and blaster bolts illuminated the area around the outside of the Sith Academy. Seconds later the Sith Lord could hear shouts from nearby corridors and alarms blaring over the communication system. As fellow Sith rushed around to their respective combat stations, Kentarch merely watched as the smoke from the freighters lifted up into the sky.

They have drawn first blood. Kentarch thought to himself. And we have been caught off guard by it.
He knew this was not the Republic's handiwork. The Galactic Alliance. A frontal assault on the Sith Academy, supported with battle meditation, the capture of strategic objectives, and a supporting fleet which would likely provide orbital bombardment. Most of the assets of the One Sith were away preparing for new military campaigns against the Republic. The element of surprise was clearly on their side, and they were here to do damage. For a moment Kentarch wondered if they had already lost, if escape was the best option.

Finally Kentarch's Sith Lightsaber came to his hand, turning he rushed down a corridor that would lead to the main plaza of the Sith Academy. "Don't let them catch you in the open, form defensive positions around choke points and near cover." He said to some soldiers he was running past. As he came to the entrance of the Sith Academy he could here the sounds of clashing lightsabers and blaster fire from outside.

The Sith Lord's gaze fell upon the landed ships of the attackers outside. He needed to help even the odds, end the Battle Meditation. Around him he summoned the force to make himself vanish from plain sight. Assassinate the practitioner out right.

The air is still, and I am a hunter.

 

[Darth Assimilus]

Location: Coruscant, Sith Temple.
Objective: Act
Allies: One Sith [member="Reverance"]
Enemies: Whoever I want.
Gear: In Sig.

Deja Vu. The feeling hit Kezeroth hard. Corcuscant was being attacked? Watching the Sith Acolytes and Knights run to the action and some away from it, Kezeroth remained still within the halls of the SIth Temple. He knew Coruscant had been attacked in the past but this attack felt different. More Familiar. Was an odd feeling that only produced a groan and mild annoyance. His armored footsteps echoed in the soon empty halls of the Temple. Each step caused his belt of gear to rattle.

His right hand gripped his Dragon Flame Saber tight as several rumbles shook the Temple and the environment. Watching a hooded figure leave a single room. Investigating and being noisy the Armored Epicanthix gave a blank expression as his orange visage connected with a dead acolyte lying on the floor. Chuckling Kezeroth backed up back into the hall to peruse after the hooded man. With the Force Nexus in his armor and Sith sword this hunt was not going to be exactly silent.

"Mmmmm...."

 

[Ellie Mors]

Objective: A - Kill Sith, Take their Holocrons
Location: Outside Temple Grounds
Enemies: [member="Raien Keth"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Kezeroth the Beholder"]
Allies: [member="Kira Vaal"] | [member="Aela Talith"]

[media]https://youtu.be/k6EQAOmJrbw[/media]​

Any daughter of Silara Kuhn - Darth Vitium, "Atrophia" - would never so blatantly stand against the Sith as Lisette did, but it was who she was, what she did. Nothing her mother had been was, in her mind, right or good. That Sith Lord, Lady - whatever - had fought for might, for power, whether to protect or to serve, it didn't matter. When Lis had arrived back at her feet, both of her hands removing the lightsabers from her belt loops, igniting the purple and amber blades, she was not thinking about dedicating her battle to some order, to fighting in blind honor for a false goddess that didn't even exist, there was nobody that she fought for but those that she felt through the force, that she saw with her own eyes, for the children, the orphaned ones, and the sufferers at the hand of this regime. She fought for herself, trusted in herself, and did not hesitate for a moment when she swept the amber blade with the brunt of her weight to decapitate an upstart Sith hopeful.

Not a single person on this planet, Dark Lord or not, frightened her - thirteen years being held captive, chained, in her mother's basement had resolved her of those things. She had been raised as the bastard daughter of a Sith Lord to be used as a weapon, subjected to horrors day and night, and there had been no greater relief than to find out that the wretched queen had been murdered rightfully by the Jedi on Ziost. Now she was back where it all had began, the planet of Coruscant that her mother had once watched over as the Voice of the Dark Lord, but there would be no kneeling before some cowardly figure that dared not to suppress this open confrontation himself, only a brutal slaughter of each and every dark sider on the planet - to wash the walls, the floor, the ceilings and their own faces in their blood. Give and take, she called it, for every life they snuffed out she would repay two-fold.

Just how many was that now?

The tilt of her head, the spark of a smirk, and the vertebrae in her neck cracked as the Sith of the temple descended from their lofty stairwells in their temple of perversion. There was no mercy today, not for an empire that did not expect it in return for having never given their own shreds to the families they ripped apart. "Who will be the first piece to fall, the domino?" She muttered, her eyes slowly closing while she pressed forwards, nimbly stepping over debris and shoving aside that which got in her way using the force. "Look to me, Sith, Civilians, people the world over - We fight for your freedom, we fight for your lives, will you stand by and watch it all go for naught, or will you join me, will you raise your arms, and fight not only for your own lives, but the lives and freedom - the hope - for your children and their children after?" Lisette shouted, trying to keep her voice audible with a slight enhancement of the force, telepathy. "The Sith have never known defeat as hard as what will hit them because nobody has looked to you, the oppressed - join the fight for tomorrow, the fight for your liberties, and I swear that this world be liberated of the tainted darkness that is the One Sith!"

She never quite saw herself as a motivational speaker, Lisette, but she had her moments, she supposed, and it was better to turn the situation into confusion, with what few rebellious civilians would turn against their Sith overlords in the sight of so many Jedi and Alliance troops landing down on Coruscant in such a theatrical fashion. The Jedi and the Republic had let these people down before, and though she knew this small invading task force was not enough to take the planet from the Sith, she would pay back their dues and give these people a new sense of hope. Hope in the form of her first step into the courtyard that rest between the crashed freighters and the temple itself. Who, within or without, would oppose her?

 

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Location: Coruscant, Enroute[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Allies: [member="Peyton Steele"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Objective: [[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]B[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]][/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Smirk.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Girl was definitely lying, but it mattered none to Miad - as long as she kept it all in and didn’t feth up her gear, it would be all fine and dandy. Which brought them back to the original mission parameters at hand, they were quite… [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]vague[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] to be entirely honest, but the Galactic Alliance wasn’t a finely-tuned warmachine just yet.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Rag tagged individuals with good gear and good heads on their shoulders, with the Sith out playing elsewhere? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]It would definitely make things a lot easier for them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]Alright, boss[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px].” Miad would say, reaffirming her [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]belief[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]. Not that she lacked it, Commander wouldn’t have put her in charge if she wasn’t ready for it, some people just needed to get into the action to empty their minds of all the shet that it usually contained.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Cathartic expression and all that.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]How ya want to handle this?[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]They could go all full-frontal, Die Hard with guns blazing… which the Chiss didn’t really prefer, it would be easier if they split up in pairs and approached the building from different angles, slip in quietly and then dismantle the operations from the inside.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Stealthy.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Clean.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Just like the Chiss Expansionary Defence Force had taught her.[/SIZE]

 

[Arage Bao]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]Coruscant, the Underworld[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Allies: [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px][member="Yurzhoc Shai"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]Objective: [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]Infiltration.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]

Spoiler

[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]

[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.6667px]Smoke curled from between his fingers - the tip of the chazarillo burned lightly in the dark and faintly illuminated the darkness that pervaded the area. Most people associated the capital of the Galaxy with skyscraping towers, shiny metal, the proud Jedi Temple and other symbols of perfection, some say it was the Sith that brought [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]corruption[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] to Coruscant, the pearl, but as he rested on the edge of the roof: studied the scenes that were being created right before his eyes… Darzu Qinvah knew the truth about those statements.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Or the lack thereof. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]The [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]truth[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px], the [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]real[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] truth, was that Coruscant had always been corrupted to its very core. The shiny exterior could not hide such, the filth, rust and grime, the drug peddlers with their wares, the whores on the corners and the murderers sharpening their knives in the shadows… those hadn’t appeared with the Sith - they had always been here, and regardless of what would happen to the One Sith, regardless of a possible assimilation by the Galactic Alliance… regardless of a possible return by the Jedi Order, [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]the rats and beasts would always stay.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Yurzhoc.” the ancient one whispered in his villip. “I have found the heretics amongst the herd, the time for the culling has come, brother.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Iridescent glasses studied the warehouse in the depths, he had noticed three guards - the obvious ones numbered two and there was an hidden one posted nearby for backup. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]It was not a surprise that there were rebel elements in the empire of the jeedai, neither was it a surprise that they had infested the heart of it - as mentioned before… it had already been corrupted to the core.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]In a distant past Qinvah had been like his brothers and sisters. A zealot believing fully in the life that the Gods had stipulated for them, but life… [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]life[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]was a funny thing[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px], he worked as an infiltrator for his people, working to destabilize entities from within and this occupation was difficult. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Because the best of his kind were capable of mimicking their targets - to the point that [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]some[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] could no longer recognize where they [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]began[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] and the [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]cloak ended[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px].[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Who am I? Whoever you need to be.[/SIZE]

 

[Evan Kenner]

Location: Casually passing through the space battle above Coruscant
Objective A
Allies: SSC, GA
Enemies: Those pesky Sith who we are totally trying to steal from

Sure enough, Evan recieved a hail from a nearby Sith Cruiser. He swallowed his pride and answered it, an Imperial accent asking him a simple question. "Primeval Starfighter Aquila, this is Sith Heavy Cruiser Vanguard. We didn't ask for any assistance from the Primeval today, what are you doing here?"

Time to work my magic

Evan pressed a button and answered the hail. "Ah...hello! I'm doing wonderfully today, thanks for asking!"

"Er- I didn't-"

"Oh! I was just uh...passing through when I saw Coruscant was...under attack by those...uh, those FOOLISH Jedi sympathizers!"

"You saw from where? Hyperspace? We never sent out a distre-"

"Hey man, can't a guy just come to Coruscant and help out his Sith bros?!"

"Wha-? Submit your identificarion codes! I'm going to have a chat with your-"

Evan slammed a finger on the 'end transmission' key. "Boring conversation anyway..." He sent out a message to all Alliance and Sanctum craft nearby. "This is Evan Kenner of the Silver Sanctum Coalition, i'm flying a Primeval starfighter, please don't shoot me down as I make my descent down to the Sith Temple to grab some booty! I'm about to get shot by the Imps! I'm going in!"

Sure enough, the nearby Heavy Cruiser began to fire on Evan's fighter. The bright green turbolasers soared through space as Evan, wielding the joystick of the fighter like an artist wields his brush, guides his ship in a beautiful dance around them. A few stray turbolasers would smack the shields and shake the ship, but Evan did not panic. Before long, however, one-too-many turbolasers blasted his shields away and left his starfighter naked, and only halfway to Coruscant's atmosphere.

Evan grit his teeth and let out a nervous laugh, "Can't catch me if im dead...!"

Another turbolaser whacked the hull of his fighter, nearly blowing a hole through the wing. Evan cackled and increased to full throttle, burning space behind him as he began to descend into Coruscant's atmosphere a lot faster than he should be.

"This is gonna get HOT!"

The surface began to appear before him as he pulled tightly on the throttle to slow down. Multiple AA guns from the surface then began to fire upon him, striking off of the shields that had finally begun to recharge. Evan quickly found an empty spot on the roof of a skyscraper a few blocks away from the Sith Temple and clumsily maneuvered his fighter to land there. He extended the landing gear and...

*THUD*

One of the landing gear's snapped under the velocity of Evan's most clumsy landing yet. He grunted as his face nearly hit the dashboard, but when he looked up and realized he wasn't dead yet, he laughed and cheered, opening the cockpit and jumping out. He looked behind him at the looming Temple of Doom a couple of blocks away. Surely there would be resistance, but maybe there were some friends he could join up with nearby...

The chiss jumped across to another building and began to search for some allies.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Location: En route to main prison
Objective: C
Allies (nominal): [member="Spencer Jacobs"] if she wants to show up/isn't at Contruum.
Enemies (nominal): [member="The Hound"] if he's going for the prisons and not objective B; can't tell.

From the moment the Galactic Alliance fleet appeared in orbit of Coruscant, the woman in the hooded cloak had a pretty decent idea of their objectives. You didn't live this many lives without connections, and the targets were obvious enough anyway, given the nature of the war's past decade. So it was with minimal surprise that, on approach to the main prison, she noted what looked like a rough-and-tumble commando team on its way. Skimming low between buildings on swoopback, her cloak flared out behind her in the ripping wind, Ashin kept her distance. A scarred, tattooed woman in a cloak could generally expect little friendship from heroic commando teams in enemy territory. She'd learned that one the hard way, more than once. Even if she'd never been in public as this new permanent face, appearances could get her killed faster than recognition. With recognition, at least, people might hesitate before engaging her. Still, in for a decicred, in for aurodium: she hid her Force presence from all but the most discerning senses.

An oblique and rising pass, two buildings away from the prison, gave her an idea of the local defenses. Assuming it wasn't too onerous, she would loop around, then accelerate for the front door without igniting her sabre.

 

[Darth Hauntruss]

Objective: A
Location: Outside Temple Grounds
Enemies: [member="Lisette Kuhn"] | [member="Julius Sedaire"] | [member="Veino Garn"]
Allies: [member="Raien Keth"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Kezeroth the Beholder"]

This would be a rare treat for the assembled rebels. Hauntruss, although having spent much of her time rebuilding and fashioning the One Sith Military, was best known for her mastery over Sith Magic and ancient Sith language spell-casting. Having assembled her chanting she had been feeling through the void to find what she called "candles-in-the-dark", light signatures - for the light gleamed brightest when surrounded by darkness. On the battlefield her vision was all that she could rely on but, in the void of the force the smallest broadcast of the force could be zeroed in on.

Suddenly she heard it and then saw it, a powerful gleam in the force, a telepathic broadcast ([member="Lisette Kuhn"]) which was using its words and the force to bolster the forces around her. Hauntruss' black lips cracked out into a smile. She had found her beacon and she would walk to it. As she did the black clad troopers of her veteran Death Dragoons swarmed about her and covered her path in a crossing kill zone fire arc. Anything that came across the vectors of their line-of-sight were blasted from existence. Using the bottle-neck to the Temple [member="Raien Keth"] had forged her Dragoons swarmed the center of it creating a killing field of crossfire.

Hauntruss chanted once more and then charged her attack into a telepathic storm. Her mind swarmed the bright light in the force from whence the words of hope sprang.

"Silence wretch!" Hauntruss' voice carried a powerful charge of darkside oppression and through the invisible void it bolted across the battlefield in a spear of hate that would cut into the young woman's mind. Battering her mental defenses Hauntruss let loose one of her first spells, "Qâzoi Kyantuska!" This Sith Lady unleashed a Sith language enchanted dark spell which is solely designed to oppress the thoughts of its victims. The full weight of the spell would fall upon that beacon of light like a hammer to a pane of glass. If she wasn't instantly rendered paralyzed, she would at least be incapable of any profound mental coordination or ability for a significant period of time.

Hauntruss, still on high from the darkside release then flung out her arms and blasted one last spell before she would have to summon more swelling power. Using her mastery over the channeling of the force she used the Darkside energy the swarmed the Sith Temple and applied to herself like a lightening rod to lightening. Out of her the power of the Sith Temple exploded from her fingers and like a dark shower bathed the battlefield in an oppressive and wide-area-of-effect spell. The invisible putrid darkside mist would cause confusion, discombobulation, fear and panic, to those who could not repel it. Hauntruss then shouted to her Dragoons, "This will hold them for now. Cut them down and set up kill-zones across the perimeter! Shower them with bolts! I will return to protect the Sith Temple proper!"

Hauntruss whipped about and marched towards the central hall of the Temple, she would be its gate keeper and she would make for the archives. Her frown separated to reveal her clenched teeth like a beast baring her fangs. All the while the very force fabric around the Sith Temple oozed in her invisible over-charged toxic mist.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Objective: A.
Location: Sith Temple.
Allies: Sithies, Vahl.
Enemies: [member="Lisette Kuhn"]

I give my life to the Goddess, Vahl.
I offer my flesh to her fire.
I offer my blood to her wrath.
I offer my soul her glory.
For home, for Vahl, blessed we are.

Some did not believe in the Goddess, but Joycelyn was convinced. She had been raised with the Epicanthix, schooled in the faith and arts of her father, but in the fire she had seen the goddess of her mother reach out her hand and offer home. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath through her nose, seeking guidance from the fire in her heart. Her hands tightened and relaxed around the grip of her vibroblade as the Acolyte recited and repeated the prayer under her breath. As she heard Steve one more spin and almost drop his lightsabre, a plan formed in her mind like an electric spark. A wicked smile spread over her lips as she opened her eyes and set her brown irises on Steve. She could see why he was dropping the sabre now, he was afraid. He felt fear, and therefore he was unworthy. Of this, Joycelyn was certain.

She darted over the hallway and gripped Steve's sabre arm. Forcing it behind his back, she clasped his hand in an iron grip. Her other hand gripped the hair at the back of his neck. The hilt of her vibroblade pressed against Steve's neck and Joy's thumb found the activation button of the lightsabre. Now, the tall mix-breed charged, using Steve as a shield. With her wicked smile spreading on her lips, she saw Lisette speaking. Or rather, Joycelyn saw her target. Steve protested loudly, but Joycelyn did not care. He was an object now and his sabre was hers. Gritting her teeth, Joycelyn ran at Lisette as though aiming to ram her with the meat-shield.

"Witness me Vahl. Witness my wrath."

 

[The Hound]

Location: Prison
Objective: C - Fight off any that dare take away Her new children
Allies: The One Sith/ Ember of Vahl peeps
Enemies: The GA [member="Ashin Varanin"]

The hounds about his feet looked wildly as they entered the prison, sending shrill cries of terror from the adolescent wing they were passing through. All of these children were Force Sensitive and all of them held some connection to the Vahl. The Hound's bare feet slapped against the stone surface, his dark eyes straight ahead. The whimpering of the cowering teens and children echoed through the hall as the growls and snarls from the lesser hounds moved down the dark corridor.

He stopped before a cage that had been singled out from the rest. Food untouched and cots where in other cages there had been mere rags sat neatly in the dimly lit cage. He turned his head and gripped the bars, his black eyes bearing down at the two young girls holding each other; one with hair white as snow, and the other with long red hair like his own. Both hair colors held significance in the Vahl tradition. The soft brown eyes of the older girl with white hair looked up defiantly at the Hound. He snarled and walked from the cage. He could not let them leave this place. That was his sole duty this day.

 

[Nyte Ignis]

Location: Courtyard of the Sith Temple
Objective: Defend the Temple and Nyte Ignis
Allies: Sith, [member="Xavka Duquo"]
Enemies: Invaders, [member="Aela Talith"]


Nyte Force threw the resounding particles back toward the Jedi herself, as more Sith joined into the fight! She smirked as her partner came to her as they faced Aela together. Nyte was quick to grab a poison vial and smashed it upon the ground, hopefully the properties of the acid would harm her, slow her down, keep her fast from the Temple.

Nyte stared at her, blade and dagger in hand as she used Force Push once more, though this time to assist Xavka towards his own goals to harming the Jedi. Nyte raised the blades into striking positions, coming upwards towards Aela's side, with that dagger close behind it.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Location: The prison
Objective: C
Enemies: [member="The Hound"]
Allies: Mebbe [member="Spencer Jacobs"]

WHAKKARABOOM

That particular sound was comprised of the swoop bike impacting the front door at a substantial fraction of its maximum velocity, coupled with the secondary detonation of the bike's engine and fuel tanks. Compared to all that noise, the sound of phrik boots on the entryway floor didn't even register. Not to the stunned or wounded guards, and certainly not to the owner of said boots, whose ears were still ringing. A guard droid offered repeated blasterfire nonetheless -- the droid's ears were just fine -- but the stream of plasma bolts met a burnt-orange sabre blade and just plain didn't get through. A stray shot ripped the corner from Ashin's hood, and she cast the cloak aside, revealing battered spacer clothes -- trousers and vest. The boots were something special, though, taken from her suit of ornate fullplate. If her face got on camera, that was a small price to pay for not wearing a burning cloak. The boots might be more recognizable. She'd just have to make sure they had more important things on their minds.

Redirected fire crisped the guard droid. Ashin shook her head, grimacing. Her ears were still ringing.