Invasion Through the Gates of Hell (Republic Invasion of Empress Teta - Republic vs. One Sith)

[The End Narrator]

LOCATION: Not where you believed she was going to stay...
OBJECTIVE: End this, now.
ENEMIES: [member="Darth Shara"], [member="Marcello Matteo"], [member="Daella Apparine"], [member="Darth Odium"]
ALLIES: [member="Michael Sardun"], [member="Shaw McKeller"], other surprises.

Spoiler

Aaralyn slowly came to her feet and brushed off the little bits of dirt. “Unfortunately, I’m not here for you…” She made a motion towards [member="Darth Odium"] and [member="Daella Apparine"].

“I’m here to finish what I started on Coruscant…” She gestured with open hands, her sabers ripping free from their clips on her belt and into the palms of her hands. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to end this.” Her gaze shifted beyond the two Sith standing infront of her and to the forms of both @Darth Share and [member="Marcello Matteo"] exiting the courtyard. A mischievous grin came about her lips as prepared to make her first move.


She could feel that both Shara and Marcello were weakened, their state of health was obvious by their movement as well as their essences within the Force. She knew she had to catch him before he completely healed or even had a slight attempt to heal. A paramount task which would be easily achievable, one which would leave the question in the balance…but what about [member="Michael Sardun"]? Well, for that she had her ace in the sleeve and for some reason it was running late. She was fresh to the fight and the both of them were well, to simply put it, weakened to the point of being crippled. It was a mistake to not have taken things to a more secluded area. Aaralyn smirked as she merely jumped to the left and bolted forward, guided by the Force. She came upon a contingent of Sith Troopers, and with a simple juke to the right and then left to avoid a fair amount of blaster fire, she came up on them.

It was a task anyone could pull off, Tyrena would ignite quickly and impale the first trooper standing in her way. Then Kor-Vella behind it and slice a second trooper down while she spun and brought Tyrena around to decapitate a third. Her motions were fluid, smooth as Alderaanian butter and guided by more than the Force, no it was a prowess she had spent years working on. By the time the fourth was able to bring his weapon around, Aaralyn was already in the air, a leg extended swiftly to kick him in the side of the face and push off. She sailed through the air and into the opposite wall from where she started, and from there she kicked off that wall.



Here she was again, in the air, this time sailing over the courtyard wall. Her body easily made the distance but as a good measure she brought both hands down and pushed out with the Force, propelling herself further above and beyond the path of Marcello and Shara both. As she came down, she would hit hard and slide to a halt infront of the two of them, atleast by a few meters. Her sliding form kicked up a small pile of dirt and debris that glowed a soft blue and violet from her sabers. As the dust settled, it would reveal a crouched form of Aaralyn. She was poised and ready to strike from her combat crouch position, both Kor-Vella and Tyrena positioned in a unique position as she spoke to [member="Darth Shara"].



“Well, it seems we meet again on the battlefield, hmm?” She said through the smirk towards the massive Maelibus. “Only thing time you won’t get away so easy…”

 

[Darth Banshee]

Location: The library
Allies: [member="Darth Veles"]
Future Target: [member="Ki'an Karr"]

Darth Banshee put her leg down after Darth Veles patched it up, she could walk on it know. Run no she could not run, but walk yes. She then looked at her master, and said We will have to find our pray then. She then winked at him as she focused in ward, she planed to conceal herself again. She planned to stalk who ever was an easy pry for her. She began to fade until no one could see anymore. She was still crying behind her mask, she could not stop. May be it would be worth it if she drives the republic of the planet.

With that she began to move her way library, and made her way to court yard. She saw alone Jedi on the out skirts of the of the main battle, he would be her target. She take him out, and focus that rage inside her on him. The rage put their by [member="Aedan Miles"].

 

[The Hound]

Alies: The Republic [member="Avalore Eden"]
Enemies: The One Sith
Objective: Fight Sith and Protect Art
Location: Teta Museum of Fine Arts

"I'm fine." he muttered as the world began spinning. "I just...need a few minutes." But blast it! He didn't have a few minutes. The vision that had brought him, though vivid could have been just that, a vision. Time was always flowing and the Force was not always correct, but someone important to the Jedi, no the Republic's long term victory was in danger here.

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen listened to her words, his sabers held at his side. As she stepped forward, he refused to move. He did nothing, he simply listened. Power, the jedi had denied him to learn abilities until he proved himself for the hundredth time. Unity to bring the galaxy together. The words had merit. And protection for Amar coupled with finally getting to use his emotions. A low growl rumbled in his throat as she touched his mask. Amar... he was an Amaran and as such he would face this large question with as any other. What is the best trade I can get in this? "I am not so heartless as to leave my people with nothing."

A slight fluctuation could be sensed in his mind as he communicated with Ace. Code Coyote. Of all the codes the two had come up with, this was one of the ones they least expected to use. After his silent conversation with Ace, he spoke into his comlink. "Captain come in for a delivery for a young sith woman. Race human, threat reduced." His hands came up to lift the mask from his face, showing a pair of intense brown hazel eyes. "Everything has a price. That is something I have been taught my entire life." With that, he turned his two sabers into one weapon and deactivated the twin blades.

[member="Darth Praelior"]
[member="Darth Naomi"]

 

[Darth Naomi]

Locations, Allies, Enemies: All Same

Darth Naomi remained silent, her mind was distracted from the pain by the speech of her Sith sister. At time she was confused with it, it did not sound like something you would say to someone who had doubts. It even made the blind female think of her own reasons for choosing this path. She knew her views were different from most of her fellow Sith, but the core of it was not contradicting to the Sith code nor her own desires. She had missed the Jedi's face, but his words brought her back to this world. The doubt could be clearly sensed from him now, as could probably be her distrust that followed his message. That could mean a number of things. Naomi's attention briefly returned to the dagger in her shoulder, removing it was not the brightest idea right now, but in the worst case scenario she had a dagger she could use.

[member="Vulpesen"], [member="Darth Praelior"]

 

[Kian Karr]

Location: Outskirts of main fighting
Allies: The Republic
Enemies: One Sith, [member="Darth Banshee"]

Ki'an was moving silently throughout the city, relying on the training he had received at the hands of his master, [member="Talon Vosra"]. He was keeping to the shadows as best he could and drawing the force in to make his presence less obvious. However, Ki'an knew better then to think he could avoid detection for long. After all, this was a battlefield and Sith were everywhere.

Not long ago he had heard a roar of anger and what sounded like a shout of pain so piercing that it had reached Ki'an's ears. He assumed someone had died....or worse. So far Ki'an had met with little resistance in the city, having cut down a few guards he had stumbled across. He had attempted to apprehend them non-violently, but the soldiers wouldn't surrender.

Ki'an suddenly halted and stepped back with his back to a wall. Scanning the immediate area he saw nothing. Stretching out into the force he felt nothing, no presence in the immediate area. And yet he could not seem to shake the sense of danger, the sense of foreboding. Ki'an thumbed the activation switch on his lightsaber and the blade sprang to life. When Ki'an had first joined the Jedi and constructed his lightsaber it had been a green blade, but following the battle of Carida, Ki'an had changed the crystal to a yellow blade. He had decided he wished to follow the more traditional role of a Jedi Sentinel and the change had been symbolic. Standing now in the golden glow of his blade, Ki'an shouted, "I know your there....even if I can't sense you."

Ki'an crossed his blade in front of him the hilt held at waist height and the blade pointed down and away. This was his preferred opening stance, his ready stance. He had never come here with the intentions of fighting a Sith but it seemed he had little choice in the matter. He just hoped it wasn't a Sith Lord out there!

 

[Rhia Thalasa]

Location: Alongside her Master [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]
Immediate Allies: [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] [member="Shaw McKeller"]
Immediate Foes: [member="Darth Shara"] [member="Marcello Matteo"]

______________________________________​

​

The vibrations from the shuttle rocked her fingers together, shivers from its repeated and miniscule movements rocking her body back and forth, up and down until finally it slowed and hissed. A large sheet of metal unhinged and slammed into city floor below and from within the ship Rhia Thalasa shot out, aware she was already late, but infused with the Force she quickly covered ground deemed impossible if not for her training with the Jedi. But this was not a feat unique to her, especially not in an environment filled with Jedi and Sith clashing, blades of varying colouring sparking and humming as they touched. The shuttle, landing just a short distance away from Aaralyn, forced her to approach from the direction her master was facing. Running directly towards her she weaved by and around obstacles, shards of the city scattered across her path, until she came into distance of her master. Before that however, a small patrol of Sith soldiers, already battered and injured, three on their feet but one in the dirt with a noticeable wound.

As her fitted jacket and pants came into view, both clearly of the same set of clothing not unlike an uniform, those standing turned on her. Fueled by her training a blue blade ignited directly through the wrist of one of the soldiers, a muffled yelled echoing within his helmet, as her body completed the turn of her horizontal strike in her free hand came the ignition of another lightsaber. This blade running down across the arm of the second man, both mutilating and sealing the wound, a saving grace with these weapons. Two of the soldiers falling and the third met by the padawan taking the lightsaber she just used to abruptly pull it in the opposite direction, disarming the man quite literally. The fourth, the previously injured, met immediately after with the simple destruction of his weapon before stepping down onto his chest she again moved in direction of the reason she was here. The removal of the Sith infection upon this planet. Lightsaber blades no longer ignited.

A leap and bound sending her across ruins larger than herself until finally she slowed to a jog, her course having changed to bring her to the left side of her master, although a few metres to the side. Borrowed lightsabers, two that would produce a blue blade, however did not yet ignite. For now this was a battle between a single Sith and a single Jedi, her arrival for now a deterrent to any un-evening of the odds and the aid of those who would require it.

 

[Darth Veles]

Location: Outskirts of main fighting
Allies: [member="Darth Banshee"]
Enemies: [member="Ki'an Karr"]


"Lady Banshee?" Veles asked in a whisper, his fishy amber eyes goggling around independently and scanning the ruins of the once great city when he noticed the woman was not right behind him. Frowning, the amphibious man turned on his heels, the barrel of his weapon raised. Once again, he cursed his disconnection from the Force, he couldn't even sense his friend! Retracing his steps a little bit, the young Mon Cal found the beautiful Sith Knight again. The unique Mon Calamari sight allowed the Sith to see through her Force cloak. He also saw what caused the woman to pause and stop in her tracks. The Mon Cal, too, stared at the guest, his piercing glare almost burning holes into the hated enemy. A Kel Dor Jedi with yellow lightsaber, indicating he was a sentinel. Due to the Sith's inability to use the Force, he could not feel the enemy's signature and attempt to determine his power. Unfortunate, but Sabrina probably had a better idea of who they were about to face.

Veles called upon the hate burning in his heart, the incredible anger he felt towards the enemy for invading this beautiful world. The hate was soon extinguished as he realized it wouldn't help him; without controlling the Force, he could not strengthen his connection to the Dark Side. Tossing the blaster rifle aside, the Mon Cal retrieved the curved hilt from his belt and pressed the ignition button, causing a crimson blade of superheated plasma rise from the weapon. Veles assumed the typical stance with his legs, placing one foot in front of the other, allowing him to quickly take one step forward or one step back, depending on if he wanted to retreat or lunge towards the enemy. Otherwise, the amphibious Sith remained almost motionless, except for raising his left hand holding the lightsaber and pointed the tip at the enemy. "Do you feel it, Jedi?" Veles asked with a polite smile, adressing the Kel Dor with cold eyes, "The Dark Side... Empowered by the death and suffering happening all over the planet. This is the work of your Republic! Your invasion! I hope you are proud of yourself, dog." The last few words were filled with anger and disgust, but the Mon Cal quickly reminded himself he could not lose his calmness. Knowing the Jedi would most likely think Veles was the only Sith there, the young amphibian did not worry about his lost connection to the Force.

Remembering oxygen was fatal to the uninvited visitor, the Sith Knight hoped Lady Banshee realized it as well; and used her crushing power on the man's mask, eliminating him while the Jedi focused on the visible threat. Considering the place drowned in the Dark Side due to the countless deaths of many sentient beings, Banshee wouldn't find it hard to tame the power with her incredible anger.

 

[Balaya Praelior Zambrano]

LOCATION: ENROUTE TO THE IRON CITADEL
ALLIES: ONE SITH [member="Darth Naomi"] [member="Darth Shara"] [member="Vulpesen"]
ENEMIES: JEDI AND ALLIES

Balaya heard what he said and raised an eyebrow, she didn't have the comlink to call in others but seeing him deactivate his saber brought her hand down. Guiding itself and wrapping an arm around Vulpesen to walk and taking him under her arm. The saber talking more and more. The ship he had called in wasn't a concern... yet no getting him somewhere he could properly he handled and Naomi could be patched up would be needed. Her smile faded away as she spoke walking past Naomi and speaking. "Come, have troopers lay in wait and when the ship arrives... well make sure they are prepared. We sister have someone to take back to the iron citadel."

She started moving again now offering her other arm for Naomi if she was hurt but they were going to the rest of them. She could feel plenty had gathered and there had been a small storm almost of dark side energies while she spoke. "Your saber, hand it to your new sister and be ready, once you stand before the others they will see to you. The price for your servitude, for your loyalty to the darkside will be the chance to live and reach for what you want without being... restrained by the jedi, the freedom to pursue what is desirable to you whatever that may be. The jedi wanted you bound to their code we just want you to break those chains and do what comes natural."

 

[Vulpesen]

Closer and closer he could sense it, Ace's presence was closing in fast. That was the thing about bond-mates, they protected each other and never went far. "You confuse my words. The price for my loyalty and service... is her." He reached out to point at [member="Darth Naomi"]. "In approximately three minutes, my ship will arrive. My soon to be former officers shall stun her, and I shall come with you. A healthy former jedi master for an injured sith of a lower rank. I would call this a more than fair trade." He placed his mask in its place on his hip. His eyes held a stern gaze, a look that very few children of Amar showed. He was not here to haggle. This was a the kind of deal that he would not negotiate. "Any attacks on my ship before she boards and my personal companion joins my side will end in a rather unpleasant struggle. This is my last act of loyalty to the republic. After this deal is completed, you will have me at your command."

[member="Darth Praelior"]
[member="Darth Naomi"]

 

[Kian Karr]

Location: Outskirts of main battle
Allies: The Republic
Enemies: One Sith, [member="Darth Veles"] [member="Darth Banshee"]

Ki'an turned his attention toward the Mon Cal in front of him and considered the Sith for a moment. He saw the lightsaber being pulled from the man's belt and the crimson blade igniting. The construction of the hilt and the ready stance the man adopted told Ki'an that he was likely a Makashi user. Makashi was the finest form of combat for lightsaber to lightsaber dueling, but was weaker against Ki'an Karr's Djem So. However, Ki'an was young and likely less experienced then the Sith before him, so he was not hindered by delusional self-confidence. He kept the wall to his back and continued to eye the surrounding area. Something still bothered him.

Turning his attention back to the Mon Cal before him, "Yes I do feel it," Ki'an said, his voice monotone and neutral, he felt no ill-will toward the Sith before him, no hatred or disgust, just the resolution in knowing that they were enemies, "but the darkness was here long before our invasion. I regret the loss of life here, but civilians and those who surrender will be spared any pain and suffering." Ki'an said, not lowering his guard, but not displaying any sign of aggression either. This wasn't about a fight for victory, but rather for survival. Ki'an wasn't about to push his luck here. He knew he was out of his depth. Luckily, looking around, Ki'an saw he had avenues of escape if needed but he wasn't intent on fleeing just yet. The force had brought him into conflict here, and he was willing to follow it a bit further.

 

[Jannik Morlandt]

Location - Maria's ship "Reverie", near Teta Museum of Fine Art & Antiquities
Objective - Save the cultural artefacts.
Team - Gamma
Allies - [member="Avalore Eden"], [member="Turin Val Kur"], [member="Maria Natalja"] [@All Republic Forces]
Enemies - @All One Sith Forces.

They entered the museum, the focus of most everyone else on the fighting - and that was the overwhelming objective, for most. The battle for the planet was not won by saving artefacts, but someone had to do it. Chances are, they would be thrown into a fight in the midst of their mission, anyhow, and they... he had to be ready for whatever would come, whether he felt he was or not.

"Jannik - was that your name?"

He looked to Maria, and nodded.

"That it is."

She was a newer padawan, but she seemed nice. In another context, he'd have liked to talk to her about... well, anything, just the same as he would with anyone else.

"Are you good at Telepathy?"

At that question, he looked away, glancing around this area of the museum as they pushed further inward. Was he good at it? Well, it was another one of those things he didn't have a choice in the matter of knowing. Another one of those things the Force had thrust upon him, that he had learned to deal with. He gave a one-tip nod, and made a noise, an 'mmhmm' indicating the affirmative.

"Ah s'pose ye could say tha'." He turned his torso to look at the other padawan again, his face now serious, almost... sombre. He knew what she was getting at, and he could do little but oblige. "Ah'll see if ah ken get ahold o'them."

Could he remember the feel of at least one of the two presences they were seeking? Jannik looked away from Maria, and started moving slowly, further into the museum. It was eerily quiet within, but the perfection of the silence was ruined by the clamour without. He stopped, closed his eyes, and reached out, feeling out for any others that might be in this facility.

Ah... Knight Eden. Where ya at? He spoke, telepathically, once he grasped that her presence was in the facility. He still needed to do more work on sussing out the exact location of things in the Force, but he knew that she felt close. We're lookin' for ye an'... tha' 'Val Kur' feller.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello nodded wordlessly to [member="Darth Shara"] as he walked alongside his new ally. Veritas was all too happy to leave the remaining conflicts to the others occupying the courtyard. Despite his weakened physical state, Marcello's connection to the Force had never been stronger. The dark side pulsed through his limbs and massaged his worn ligaments. From the other dark siders on the planet, he drew a strength he had never really known as a Jedi - certainly not during this particular operation. Anyone allowing themselves to be fooled by some other misconception lacked a tragic degree of perception.

Unfortunately, it seemed that a woman the former Jedi had called a friend might well suffer that reality. Then again [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] had always been very...convicted in what she chose to do. The arrival of the Jedi Maste had drawn little more than a thin smirk of amusement from the dark sider. The entire courtyard was mostly destroyed beyond any recognizable structure and repair courtesy of the efforts of Shara and Marcello...to include a thermonuclear detonation. The woman's efforts were...very flashy. Shock and awe were not likely impressive concepts to any of the seasoned force users in the area.

As battle and destruction raged around them on the planet, Marcello acted on instinct. Where he had once drawn from the vitality of the light side and it's embodiment most natural, good-natured things, he did so now on the strong currents of emotion, pain, and suffering that was abundant on both sides of the conflict. It was not precisely the same as the Jedi method of healing, but the concepts were similar...and Marcello had done it well enough. Best of all it was a largely passive ability, requiring him to expend precious little additional energy.

The instant [member="Rhia Thalasa"] arrived, Darth Veritas laughed softly. No words left his mouth, and his pace never so much as slowed. The casual observer would easily note that no weapons were presently visible on Veritas' body. His lightsaber had been left in the rubble of the courtyard.

It was useless to him now.

 

[J3C0]

[member="Marcello Matteo"] [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] [member="Rhia Thalasa"]
Shara let out a sigh of exasperation as two more Jedi showed to confront him. He could feel the tremble of the ground, and the voice of the Jedi ring out. He recognized it once again, but he did not slow. The woman was dangerous, but nothing that he and his new brother could not handle.

As they walked towards her, Shara too drew on the power of the darkside, his strides being far shorter and smaller than Marcello's, allowing the smaller man to keep pace with him.

“Always ready for blood. Always out to kill and destroy.” Shara said, rumbling forward towards the Jedi Master and her apprentice. His eyeless face darted between the two, the vibrations of the earth pointing his face towards them. He spoke with a voice of authority. “Relent, Jedi.”

Again the word was tinged with a hint of disgust. “More and more of your comrades see the truth. More and more of your fellow Jedi serve the Dark Lord. More and more of your friends see that we are the path to galactic peace, to Order. Give up. Lay down your arms and join us.”

He gave her the same offer he had given to Marcello, made the same points he had given to Marcello. Across the world he could feel pangs of light drop out, Jedi dying, or falling to the darkside of the force. He could feel the Dark Lords touch upon this world, and it gave him strength. As they walked on Shara seemed to grow taller, raising himself as his steps carried him forward.

 

[Avalore Eden]

Location: West Wing of the Teta Museum of Fine Art & Antiquities

"You fething well aren't," Avalore shot back at Turin as he moved off, appearing listless in his direction, "you're concussed and you need to sit down-"

The not-too-distant rumble of an explosive force vibrated the walls of the museum. Somewhere in a side hall she heard something precious shatter to the floor - a gasp of one of the Historical Aides followed.

"You should leave him," Turak hissed at her, his beady eyes alert, "we should leave. Now, Miss Eden. This place is no longer safe."

Lips drawing thin, Avalore rose back to her feet and snatched up her outer robe she'd used as a pillow for the man. His blood had soaked through one of the sleeves and she grimaced at the soggy, sticky feel of it as she pulled it back on. The Healer sighed and looked around for her bag, using simple tricks of the Force to call her tools and supplies back to her hands before quickly stashing them away.

"Miss Avalore..." Turak looked as though he were about to leap out of his skin. He was hovering very close to her, had twitching over his blaster, "something is coming."

Rumble. Rumble. Rumble.

Frowning, the looked once more after [member="Turin Val Kur"], "Hey...HEY! Come with us-"

Ah... Knight Eden. Where ya at? We're lookin' for ye an'... tha' 'Val Kur' feller.

"Ach!" she slapped a hand to her head, that strange voice sending a very discomforting chill up her spine, "I hate it when they do that...I CAN'T ANSWER YOU BACK THANKS!" her voice echoed loudly through the halls as she turned on the spot, looking around.

"Miss Avalore, please," Turak took a hold of her by the wrist and began tugging her down the hall in the opposite direction of Turin, "we must go."

"Come with us!" Avalore yelled to Turin again, "there's another exit on the south side, where the drop ships are!"

[member="Jannik Morlandt"]
[member="Maria Natalja"]
[member="Darth Shara"]
[member="Marcello Matteo"]

 

[The End Narrator]

LOCATION: Near the ruins of the Courtyard. Whatever remains, remains...it doesn't matter now.
OBJECTIVE: Stop [member="Darth Shara"] and [member="Marcello Matteo"], or stall until reinforcements arrive to assist in defeating the two wounded Sith Lords.
ALLIES: [member="Rhia Thalasa"], [member="Shaw McKeller"], [member="Kiskla Grayson"], [member="Jannik Morlandt"], @Everyone else.
ENEMIES: [member="Darth Shara"], [member="Marcello Matteo"], [member="Darth Odium"], [member="Daella Apparine"]


Aaralyn felt it, that tremor in the Force that awakens within when something isn’t right. A gut instinct that caused her attention to shift from [member="Darth Shara"] to [member="Marcello Matteo"]. Her body rose to full height as she skipped the typical banter, knowing full well it would allow them some type of recovery and escape time. Unlike the dark siders of this planet, she didn’t differentiate between energy sources. It didn’t matter that the planet was succumbing to dark energies or that chaos ruled the battlefield. What mattered was the Force. One could take energy and sway it to his or her desire, if they understood the Force well enough. She simply stared blankly at the man she once called a comrade and a friend, who had become nothing more than a pawn in some grief stricken game by overambitious Sith.


Well, maybe there was some idle time for banter. She knew [member="Darth Shara"] and his abilities, having fought him once before, albeit briefly but hopefully she was successful in leaving a lasting impression...this time it would be a literal impression. She would chuckle softly, the energy building within her as she focused on the Light as much as she could. There were distractions that were amazingly enough, causing her to falter a bit and in turn for each falter there was a natural aggressive stance she would take on an emotional scale. It was the blood of a Vahla, which was something she couldn't avoid. "To each their own, but I'm afraid I can't do that." She made a motion towards Marcello, as she did so, that blank stare faded. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke. "You see, some of us don't forget what we fight for and choose to die rather than to give in." She shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't allow you any further, surrender now and end this."


The energies of the Force crackled at her fingertips as she clutched the lightsabers tightly, and without warning nor inclination of doing so, she lashed out towards [member="Marcello Matteo"]. Her right arm extended outwards, her palm faced his form as she released an influx of Force energy towards him, with the intention of sending him flying backwards. Almost simultaneously, her left came out beside the right, releasing a torrent of energy through the Force at [member="Darth Shara"]. The intention was simple, hit them hard enough with a good push and send them back, get them off their feet and proceed with the next step. Then again, she never really did know how fully healed or worn down they were, she was acting on prowess and common sense.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello's eyes never moved from [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]. The typical party line was spouted. Shocker. Marcello had done the same himself on countless occasions, but it was all a bunch of crap. Perhaps if he hadn't committed his entire being to the galaxy for his entire life, he might care about the myopic views of others. Perhaps if he'd not accepted and made sacrifices time and again in the name of a better galaxy, he would feel some kind of wound from the words of cheerleaders.

As it stood, none of that was accurate. Marcello was past talking. He was passed trying to convince others of how to intelligently do things. Now, he was doing what was necessary to reshape the galaxy, understanding that the only true cancer is and always has been the Jedi Order. It really wasn't a surprise, they couldn't even administer themselves. It was no wonder they failed again and again in bringing order, peace to the galaxy.

Had anyone ever asked why the Sith elected to strike at the Jedi first instead of literally any other entity? Yes. Marcello had. The answer had been all too easy to accept. The Jedi were the ones too rooted in their ways of failure to accept a progressive change. They were tunnel-focused on the prevailing supremacy of the light side. Light. Dark. Veritas did not care. At this particular moment, however, the dark side held the power to do what was necessary. To maintain order once established.

Yet...no amount of speed could overcome predictability. Veritas was all too aware that Aaralyn probably wanted to at least divide the two Sith up or perhaps stall them. The building of the Force around her could be felt...practically seen by those with the training and experience. Given his own close connection with the Force at the moment, Veritas recognized even the slightest shift. As her one hand came up in his direction, both of his erupted and invisible rush of energy from his own being. The resultant effect was...Veritas' progressive continuing at just a slightly reduced rate.

This was going to be a long day.

[member="Darth Shara"] | [member="Rhia Thalasa"]

 

[Rhia Thalasa]

Location: Still alongside her Master Aaralyn Rekali
Immediate Allies: [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] [member="Shaw McKeller"]
Immediate Foes: [member="Darth Shara"] [member="Marcello Matteo"]

At the approach of the thunderous figure of the blonde man, Rhia was well aware that she was out classed here, but they were injured and she was not alone. She was certainly not going to knock anyone back with simple power alone, but she could at least rely on technique. Her Master's technique seemingly reversed and the blonde man merely walked in response. Likely awaiting one of the Jedi to make a more direct attack. But maintaining her stance, she merely awaited an actual move from the ever so slowly walking man or the response of the demon. She had seen his kind before. Burying within Iego beneath those that had raised her - angels.

The Force, between pull and push, cramped within her and as if it were an object she wrapped the Force around Marcello's left knee, clasping the area as if it were an actual object, and Rhia pulled towards her, forcing the knee and leg attached forwards. A technique relying on line of sight. It was hardly an actual move but it would force the Sith to his back if successful. As well as cause a rather sore knee. But the objective was clear here. Do not allow them to flee. The demon's words resonated, but nonetheless fell on deaf ears, a justification of horrors nevertheless still horrors. But her attention drifted to the other. He did not wish to make the first true attack but she would be fool if she were to, so, it was either they remain in a false stand off or be forced to engage.

 

[Shaw McKeller]

Location: Gimme a minute
Objective: Survive something potentially stupid
Allies: [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] [member="Rhia Thalasa"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Shara"] [member="Marcello Matteo"]
Music:

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHDv1bSCjKc

He'd watched his master leap from the moving ship with a mixture of nostalgia and mild annoyance. Deep down, he missed the days where he could attempt such a reckless task with the certainty of youthful vigor. That said, the fact that she'd jumped out without waiting for his support in the field was a moderate nuisance. She knew he couldn't follow, but in her young heart he knew the excitement of battle and righteousness sang clear and true. He had felt the same way decades ago, before war and blood and time dulled the singing in his own heart.

The old warrior shrugged once and pulled his mind from his thoughts and applied them towards his predicament. Master Rekali was on the ground and engaged. He was in a ship hundreds of meters above the ground. He had no safe way of making it down without breaking an ankle or a leg or generally injuring himself to the point of combat ineffectiveness. That said, war was all about risks and surprise. Thing was, how was he going to get down?

The answer came in the form of a repulsor pack. Fortunately, the ship had a few for emergency purposes. Unfortunately, it wasn't powerful enough to suspend him in the air. It was, however, powerful enough to slow his descent from terminal, in both senses of the word, velocity and down to merely ankle breaking or spraining speeds. That said, he knew that the kind of fancy footwork needed to land such a descent wasn't exactly... possible in his armor and with his gear. For that, however, he had to think outside of the box.

A few minutes later, the armored form of Shaw McKeller dropped from the back of the shuttle. On his back was the repulsor lift. On his feet was a large, heavy, concave plate of beskar held to his boots by the magnetic locks incorporated into most, if not all, Mandalorian armor. In war, one took risks. For Shaw, this meant hoping that by using the shield to slide, in a way, on impact and hopefully keeping his balance, he wouldn't break an ankle or land face first into the ground.

The repulsor pack slowed him down just enough that the wind only whistled past his helmet instead of screaming by. He saw the Iron Citadel courtyards below him and felt the presence of his master. He also felt the darkness below his feet, the same creeping warmth he'd felt since he started his lifetime along the path of blood and carnage. Most Jedi shut out the darkness. Others shoved it aside, finding solace in tranquility. Shaw faced it head on, greeting it like an old adversary. He respected the dark side, but no longer let it into his heart. He knew the dangers, the temptations, of that path. That warmth would grow, slowly, to a burning flame and then into a roaring inferno, consuming all within it. The dark side meant the loss of all that was, all that is, and all that will be. The dark side was the cold embrace of oblivion.

The impact of a hard surface juddered through the shield as McKeller bounced off the rampart wall. He let his legs ride out the jolt and aimed for the stairs, shutting the repulsor off and letting his full weight come down. He did his best to keep his balance, only over-tilting to one side or the other a handful of times, but keeping his balance on each occasion. The shield clanged and rattled down the steps as he used it like a hoverboard without the repulsors activated until it hit the courtyard floor. Shaw then twisted his waist and legs to the side, feeling and ignoring the long familiar twinge of old scar tissue in his hip, letting the shield turn and using the increased traction and friction to slow down. His momentum pulled him near the two fighting Jedi, [member="Rhia Thalasa"] and [member="Aaralyn Rekali"], before coming to a complete stop. McKeller then unclasped the repulsor pack from his torso, the machine clattering to the ground, and undid the magnetic clamps in his boots.

He stepped off the shield and stooped and pulled the shield up to his left shoulder, the bottom of the ornate beskar plate resting on the now-gravelly stone floor. Releasing the magnetic clamps holding his massive blade onto his back, he pulled the Force-imbued Beskar sword up and let it rest fully on his right shoulder. The big Mandalorian rotated each shoulder for a moment and turned to look at his master.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, the distinctive burr in his voice clearly audible despite the comms in the helmet he wore. "I had to stop and ask for directions. Honestly, you young people and how you cavort off to fight at the first sign of battle. Next time, wait for me."

With this, he nodded his head at the giant thing before him in all its hideousness.

"This the shabuir causing the ruckus down here?" he asked, referring to [member="Darth Shara"], the Sith Lord.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Location: Outside of the Great Library
Objective: Stop Kiskla from stripping me like a cheap Zeltron harlot.
Allies: One Sith, DSotF
Enemies: The Republic, LSotF, [member="Kiskla Grayson"]
Music: The entire Vile album by Cannibal Corpse

Vornskr could feel the Force working against him, aiming to strike at the armor that covered his being. He growled in defiance, he would not be so humiliated again as he was on Coruscant when Master Grayson tore off his breastplate, and he used his considerable power in the Force to clash against hers in an attempt to outright stop or slow her attack utilizing a full-powered Force Insanity aimed directly at her mind. Meanwhile, the Scepter of Power would hear its masters unspoken call for aid, and would unleash its coiled form from the beam where it had wrapped itself, and flung its three meter long body at Kiskla's head. It would attempt to wrap its mighty form around her head/neck, and would begin to constrict to either crush the helmet or to choke her esophagus. Despite the Scepter's attack, the armor on Kaine's left arm popped free and clattered to the ground, but hopefully he would be able to keep the rest of his armor on his person.

Vornskr snarled again as he wrestled against the invisible power of Kiskla, and reached out to the nearest soldier with the Force, bringing forth one of the unused grenades strapped to his belt. Typically the Sith Lord hadn't needed to use such weapons against his foes in a long time, but this seemed like an appropriate response. With a flick of his thumb he activated the detonation sequence, and instead of lobbing it like a ball at the Jedi, and swung it more at the ground so it would bounce and roll across the broken surface to hopefully land near enough to the Jedi to wreck her concentration. It was a risky gambit, but combined with his mental barrage and the Scepter trying to strangle her, it would hopefully pay off in his favor.

He was getting tired of people trying to mess with his armor in such a manner anyways.