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

[Darth Veles]

Location: Courtyard
Enemies: [member="Ki'an Karr"] [member="Sesab Odai"]

The expected reaction to the attack would be to take a quick jog back, sidestep to the right or parry the attack with the tip of his blade. Darth Veles did none of those actions, keeping his arm and lightsaber positioned as they were. Actually, he did nothing one would expect from a Makashi user to prevent the Jedi from cutting off his arm. His right arm reacted though and its webbed hand did foolish thing; reached for the incoming blade in an attempt to grab the hilt, but it was way too far. It reasulted in Veles catching the yellow plasma and grabbing the superheated blade instead. It burned through the flesh as if it were nothing but air and the smell reached Veles' nostrils. The Jedi's lightsaber no longer continued in its way towards his arm, blocked and caught by the phrik skelet of his cybernetic hand. The Kel Dor couldn't have expected this to happen. The Mon Cal's left arm with the weapon did not remain inactive though; once Veles blocked and held the plasma blade, he simply flicked his wrist to the right to chop off both of the Jedi's hands holding the lightsaber hilt, using the surprise of something unexpected to do so. One of his eyes swiveled to look at the other two combatants dueling; he did not want to turn around and find a nasty surprise in form of a dead Acolyte and a Jedi Master about to chop his head off.

He did not have the Force, but his peripheral vision saved him when the other Jedi came. Whether Veles' attack succeeded or not, he let go of the plasma blade held in his hand and spun around the Kel Dor on his left foot before taking three quick steps back not to stand next to the Kel Dor, but behind him. This was to keep the two Jedi in one line, not letting them surround him. This situation did not look very good, prompting Veles to unclip the second curved hilt from his belt and firmly grasp it in the cybernetic hand. With a simple press of the ignition button, the crimson red beam rose from the hilt.

 

[Kian Karr]

Location: Courtyard
Enemies: [member="Astraios Blackhand"], [member="Darth Veles"]
Allies: [member="Hasjo Hallu"], [member="Sesab Odai"]

Ki'an was taken entirely by surprise when the Mon Cal Sith grabbed onto the yellow blade of his lightsaber. Taken so much by surprise in fact that it nearly cost him his hands. But as the Mon Cal brought his lightsaber up to cut off his hands, Ki'an did the only thing he really could do. He let go of his lightsaber and jumped back. The blade deactivated the saber felt to the ground with a clang. Looking down at his hand he saw that the tip of his talon had been taken off. That had been far too close. Reaching out his hand he called the saber back into this grasp with the force and re-ignited the golden blade.

Ki'an quickly sidestepped and brought himself around so that he was face the sith again, who had maneuvered himself so that the two Jedi were in front of him. Ki'an watched as he ignited a second lightsaber. Ki'an looked over at Sesab.

"We take him together." Ki'an said. Turning back to the Mon Cal, Ki'an came forward with a slash to the Sith's left side and while he did so he tugged at the Sith with the force, attempted to pull him off balance. However, the slash was only a feint and instead of following through with that attack, Ki'an jabbed forward with the pommel of his lightsaber, hoping to catch the Mon Cal in the eye or between them.

 

[Sesab Odai]

Location: Courtyard
Allies: @Ki'an Karr
Enemies: [member="Darth Veles"]


Sesab nodded and attacked simultaneous to Ki'an, he darted forward feinting at his opponents head and then striking down to his foot. He then brought his weapon up in a quick overhanded strike at the top of the Mon Cal's head. Going with the flow of the movement, Sesab spun around and spin side kicked at the Sith's face, using that same momentum to slash at his thighs. He hoped that together him and Ki'an could prove to be more than a match for this Sith, and be able to take him down. The thought of that caused lots of excitement and nervousness, and he quickly struggled to get those emotions under control, using the force to pick up a clump of dirt and fling it at his enemy's eyes.

 

[Darth Veles]

Location: Courtyard
Enemies: [member="Sesab Odai"] [member="Ki'an Karr"]


Before the Kel Dor turned around, Veles positioned himself into a suitable stance, planting his right foot in front of his left to allow him for a quick jog back or two to get out of the reach of their lightsabers. Makashi users depended on footwork quite heavily, dodging and waiting for the right moment to deliver a devastating strike. His reaction time might have been impaired by the lack of the Force, but the cybernetic eye and augmented muscles worked pretty well to offset that handicap.

The Mon Calamari Knight brought both of his blades up in defense, receiving no warning their attacks were simple feints meant to distract him. Unable to deal with the Force pull tugging him, Veles was forced to kneel on his right leg to avoid falling. Before he could get up, the two Jedi were upon him. Knowing he had to stand no matter what due to the lack of mobility when crouched, he sacrificed the seconds he could use to analyze their movements in order to get up. Each of his large bulbous eyes focused on one of them, compensating his lack of sense.

The Kel Dor's feint worker very well; Veles flicked his wrist to block the slash going for his left side, not expecting and unable to deal with the sudden change of the lightsaber's positioning and receiving a punch with the lightsaber hilt. It hit him into his large forehead, reopening the wound caused by the Mandalorian brute and causing it to bleed again. On the other hand, it lacked the impact to get through the thick Mon Calamari skull and allowed Veles to quickly adjust the lightsaber in his left hand, locking it with the Kel Dor's. The Jedi may have used both hands and hope to overpower him, but Veles strength from the brutal Sith training was multiplied three times by the augmented muscles. The Sith had more than enough strength to overpower both of his opponents if it came to raw physical strength.

At the same time, Veles raised his right hand to vertically meet the Selkath's lightsaber with his own, not knowing the attack was a feint. He intended to catch his blade as soon as possible, but was unable to do so as the attack truly aimed at his foot. That was a good thing, giving Veles time to retract his right leg and place it behind his left one, avoiding the slash as any experienced duelist should. The next of the Selkath Jedi's attack was a reversed version of the previous one, so Veles once again had time to position his arm holding the blade and doing pretty much what he intended to do to deflect the feint. And then the Sith's time finally come...

When the Selkath spun around, Veles did not wait for him to finish. For Makashi users, such spin presented a great opportunity to do one thing typical for Makashi; stab. Once his back was turned to the Sith, Veles immediately thrust his saber forward, its plasma blade meant to impale the amphibious combatant through his unprotected turso before the Jedi completed his attack or had time to defend himself.

 

[Sesab Odai]

Location: Courtyard
Enemies: [member="Darth Veles"]
Allies: @Ki'an Karr


Sesab felt the attack in the force, and he leapt into the air, the blade that would have impaled him leaving a long, shallow burn on his back. He twisted away from the Sith while he was in the air, turning so that he was off to the right. He then swiftly moved up behind him, slashing down at his head and then crouching lower, slicing at the backs of his knees. He rose and pushed out with the force, hoping to off-balance him enough for the Kel Dor to be able to win the saberlock that they were having. "He glanced over at Ki'an before speaking out. "You cannot defeat both of us, not in your current state, come without any further fight, and you will not be harmed." He said, trying to sound calm and collected, but he was very nervous. He was only a boy, after all.

 

[Darth Armyss]

Location: The Great Library - Storage
Objective: Find the precise location of [member="Doctor Agnusdei"]'s chemical bomb and disable it.
Allies: [member="Lady Exedō"], [member="Toxarien"]

As the turbolift opened and he reached the top floor, he realized that he couldn't take the unseelie any further from the combat zone without depriving his allies of their combat edge, but on the other hand, if he didn't find that bomb fast enough to disable it...well...he would have to contain its effects somehow. He left the unseelie in their armored box just outside of the turbolift and started to make his way towards the room with the open windows, making his way past many different artifacts of various origins. Before he got to the door to the open room, however, he made sure to reach for his lightsabers before entering the next room, in case somebody was guarding the bomb...except that they weren't on his belt where they were supposed to be, possibly removed by the medical personnel that treated his wounds.

"Motherkarking medics!" he yelled in a rage as he slammed his fist down on an object covered in a tarp, the reverberations indicating that whatever he had hit being transparisteel. Curiously, he pulled the tarp back to reveal a transparisteel case, and inside, two identical Sith swords with matching sheaths. It didn't take more than a second to realize that he was looking at the swords of King Ommin, one of the last Onderonian monarchs of the Sith dynasty of Freedon Nadd, and possibly originally belonging to Nadd himself. Aleema and Sal Keto, the leaders of the Krath Council during the Great Sith War, had inherited them, somehow, and now, these artifacts,, of great importance to Tetan and Sith history, were here in storage. Well...as much as he hated having to do this, he hated being unarmed in the event of an ambush even more, and so, with a reluctant sigh, he used the force to open the transparisteel case and lifted the two swords out, then tied their sheaths to either side of his belt. True, they weren't exactly rapiers, but they were light enough that he could theoretically wield them both at once, and better yet, the alchemically-treated metal that made up the sword's blades not only amplified a darksider's power, but could resist lightsaber blades, and unlike lightsabers, one didn't have to worry about cortosis and the like rendering it useless, as the only way to do that was to break them, which was no easy task. Nevertheless, they were important artifacts to both the Tetans and the Sith, so he wasn't sure if he should be keeping them after that, but he had plenty of time, assuming he succeeded, to decide on that.

Now armed, he opened the door ahead of him and strode into the suspicious room. Sure enough, the windows were jammed wide open, as he had suspected, but fortunately, the lockdown caused by the alarm shut down the ventilation. Quickly, he exerted a Force Pull on the windows and shut them, in addition to closing and locking all doors leading in and out of the room, if only for damage control purposes; in case the worst came to pass and he did fail...well...it meant that only one of them would die that day. With this in mind, he began his search, using the Force to search every container for anything that seemed out of place, a task that the nearby unseelie made somewhat easier, but not as easy as they would if he had been right next to them. Everything rested on his shoulders now: find the bomb and disable it, or die.

 

[Darth Isolda]

Location: Meditation Chamber
Objective: Play with the lost little Vahla
Enemies: Jedi and Republic Allies
Allies: One Sith and Allies

It wouldn’t take long before the heavy footfalls of the Devaronian One Sith Acolyte would come heavy of breath bearing his Jedi burden. There in his thick coiled arms lay the unconscious body of the Jedi Master [member="Aaralyn Rekali"], the length of her chestnut hair waterfalling to partially shield her pallid visage from sight.

Her body bore the tale of a one who’d been caught up in a terrible fight; blooms of bruises would litter what skin was left bare without armor, with dried caked patches of blood here and there.

The Acolyte would bow his head, revealing the crown of his crimson skull that bore one broken horn, a sacrifice made in the fight to defend Teta from the Republic invasion. Like a supplicant offering tribute, he would bring Aaralyn’s slender broken form to her, laying her down to rest within the boundaries of Darth Isolda’s meditation circle.

That sunken blank gaze of the Chosen of Vahl would slowly swivel in an eerie drift of her neck, the dark locks of ebony hair flanking the bruised and tattooed visage. Long bony fingers would reach out from under the drape of the black glistaweb cowl she wore, and off in the distance, at the edge of hearing, polyphonic whispers would start to rise in volume. Chants in the Sith tongue, kissing and drifting like ethereal secrets from the beyond.

A single forefinger dipped in the inky shadows of living tattoos would dance and shift like snakes under her skin, pausing just a mere inch before intangible tendrils of the Force would curl to lift the gossamer strands of chestnut hair away from Aaralyn’s face.

The reflection of the Jedi Master would go dancing across the polished obsidian orbs that were Isolda’s eyes as she beheld the woman before her. The slightest of smirks would plague those crimson lips, as a her hand went drifting over the woman’s angular face.

Power would roll like a writhing body amidst the sea of the gates of the Nine Hells, threading down upon the unconscious woman to glean information from her body.

Images would crash into her mind, fragments of prophecy. Arrogance. Fear. Righteous anger. Love. Recklessness.

The flash of a sword. The glint of ferocity in the eyes.

[SIZE=10.5pt]Fire to cleanse.[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Fire to mold.

Fire to purify the lattice of steel and flesh.

Child of Vahl, lost in time. Past, present, and future intertwined.

Dream a little dream of your destiny. [/SIZE]​

​

Isolda’s hands would come down, almost as if to cup the woman’s face, her soft beckoning voice pouring out of a throat so delicate, it was a wonder how the vessel could contain the Dark Lord’s presence.

“J̷̥͈͕̼͖u̟̟̺͈͚͍̥s͎̼̮̕t̜͖͚͎͕͖̹ ̵̭̯̟̦̰̬̖w̸̭̘h̵̟̲o͍̺͔̪͘’͏̭̹̼͔s͙̮e f̞̦̠̤̺̲o͎͖r͉͝g͇̥͖̜̭e ͙̪̹̭̬͟s͘h̴̝̖̭̰a̭͍̤̟l̟l̡̗̺̙̤͇̼ ̟͓͈̲͚͖̠͘y̞͇͓͕̫̭ͅo̯͍u̫̯͍̠͕̥ͅ b̰̙̙̯e͉͚̱̪͎̩͎ ̳͕̳͍̳̩̮m̡̦̟̹o̯͕͈ḽd̢͔͖̳̗̱̣̭e̥̰̮̻͍̦ͅd̵̺̤̪ ͚͍̞͖̗̕ͅb̪̩y̖,̪ ̯l̝̜͇͍̦͖̰͟i̙͖̺̮̙̖tt̸͓͓̜͚͇͍̳l̼̬͔̱e҉ ̧̗̗̰͕Ṣ̞̰͘w̷̪o̻͠r͚̤̣̺̬͓d ̢o̮͢f̱͠ ̷͍̤̥ț͍̙̞͔͉̙h̘̱e̲͔̠̰ ̙̹͇ͅJ̯̯̖̣e̹̬ḓ̞͕͍͈͜i̶̦̫͕ͅ?͉̱̯̩̞̙”​

 

[Darth Nephthys]

Location: Inside Atrium of Senate building, blocking the path to the meditation area.
Objective: Rest and recharge
Enemies: Jedi and the Republic and her allies
Allies: One Sith and their allies

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Seconds would tick by, and in those seconds Darth Nephthys would use the time to bring about a focus of her body. Of her flesh. Of sinew. Of bone.

Here, the young petite Vahla miraluka hybrid would embrace and sink herself into the energies of the DarkSide of the Force, letting it’s power reinforce her will -- her objective. Her mission and duty.

An intimate knowledge over what her capabilities are were what would lead to success. She was a Shield. A barrier. Here, none shall pass if they so desired to even make it past her towards the direction of the Eye of the Dark Lord’s Meditation chambers. There were other entrances, of course, but those would lead towards the catacombs, leading towards exits where one would be able to abscond with their prize like an assassin into the depths of the night.

Sokara’s abilities were tied intimately to the proximity of her brother, but while this would weaken and make her more vulnerable to attack, she still possessed the blood right of her dynasty.

// Onii-san //

Would come the cry of her heart for her twin’s presence. Without him, she was but a fractal of a whole.

None the less, she would do him and the One proud. Bring honor to the Goddess.

Thus, spreading her senses, the One Sith Knight would lay in wait like a spider for the approaching prey, ready to move wherever she would need to go.

 

[Alan]

[member="Darth Vindica"] was using the same tricks. A force shield erupted from Tracyn's hands, sending the force push in an arcing motion over, and to the side of his body. Tracyn growled in response. He was trying his patience, and Tracyn was done playing games with the Sith. He tossed his lightsaber into the air, the green blade still shimmering as it launched into the air. Tracyn prepared for this a long time. He had to time everything perfectly. He backed up slowly, before he turned his hips inwards. As the blade fell towards the ground, the durasteel hilt was planted sideways. Having a weightless blade meant that it spun- a lot. He turned his body in a backflip, slamming his foot into the bottom part of the hilt.

He used the force, picked up from his many years of a combatant, to launch the hilt straight and true. The blade would follow the hilt, naturally. He aimed directly for Marcus' leg, aiming to impale his leg on the ground. He slammed his hand to the ground, doing a tuck and roll after he landed. He turned, to see if his bravado and many years of training paid off.

"You aren't going to win, Marcus."

 

[The End Narrator]

Aaralyn murmured softly, a soft moan coming from her blood stained lips as her head was lifted up slightly. She felt a burning chill against her skin, causing her to shiver inadvertently. Her eyes would slowly open, and for a brief moment she saw the image of her mother. There was a quick flash that caused her to wince and close her eyes, the words of [member="Darth Isolda"] echoing in her head. As she re-opened them, only then did she realize that the Dark Lady held her face within her hand. Her heart began to beat rapidly, panic setting in as she was unable to really move. The weight of a thousand worlds resting on her chest as she breathed, her pupils got bigger as she looked around the room, not understanding how she got where she was. They fell on [member="Darth Isolda"] once more, there was a genuine sense of fear as she was unable to move and here was this strange woman...speaking to her.

Something about Child of Vahl, was that what her father talked about? That crazy dark goddess who some fanatics worshiped and swore vengeance against the Order? More specifically, the Ember of Vahl is what she remembered. Fanatics....all of them.

She couldn't talk, it hurt just to breath. Her breaths were short, labored and filled with a bit of a wheeze. She tried to move, but as soon as she did...she felt nothing but pain. The tremendous amount of pain caused her to close her eyes tight, tears streaming down the sides of her face, mixing in with her dried blood. The blood filled droplets would just run over the fingers of Isolda, a woman who obviously had control of the fate of Aaralyn. The fear Aaralyn had was not of death but of losing control of herself to something that wreaked of darkness.

 

[Shaw McKeller]

Location: Teta Senate Building (we have one of those?)
Objective: Rescue [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Nephthys"] [member="Darth Isolda"]
Allies: @Republic and Jedi Forces
Music:

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oN0nKjtB7TA

The lumbering behemoth neared the Senate building as the main entrance crumbled to rubble. He knew at that moment there was no getting in that way. Without breaking stride, he veered right, around the side of the building. It took a few moments longer, something he cursed himself silently for, and found what he sought.

Another entrance, this one smaller and to the side. It looked less like a grand entrance hall and more like a side door. Something janitorial staff or perhaps more amoral politicians would use to enter and exit away from the main hubbub of the primary entrance. The downside was that this one was locked and required a key card. Cursing once more, this time aloud, though under his breath, Shaw thought quickly.

He jogged back a good few dozen meters and turned to face the door. He locked the shield forward and against his shoulder and tensed himself. He let the Force flow once more into himself, though this time, not as much. He was not weakened, or nearing such a state. Instead, he knew that to exert everything only to get to his masters side would warrant two prisoners, instead of one rescued by the other. He let the force augment his muscles, relying on momentum and strength to power through, leaving speed for another day.

Lumbering forward, he picked up speed and saw the door ahead. It was a metal thing, set in stone, and locked well. It was sturdy enough that it would require a solid effort to knock down or breach.

It was a good thing that a 6'6" man in heavy, beskar armor running full tilt with the Force to aid him qualified for a Solid Effort.

McKeller thundered through the door as it buckled and fell. Dust and chips of stone scattered everywhere and fell from the ceiling from the impact. It wasn't quiet. It wasn't subtle. But it karking worked. Shaw shook off some of the dust and stepped out of the maintenance hall and through a few doorways, following the feeling of the darkside inside the building.

"AARALYN!" came the comm-augmented bellow. "MASTER REKALI!"

 

[Kian Karr]

Location: Courtyard
Enemies: One Sith, [member="Darth Veles"]
Allies: [member="Sesab Odai"], Galactic Republic

Ki'a was glad to see that his attack had worked, but suddenly he found himself in a saber lock with the Mon Cal Sith. At first he thought this would be an easy contest to win, but Ki'an was quickly impressed with the strength he found, even in the one-handed hold. Pushing against the lock, Ki'an found that he could not get his opponents saber to move.

Then out of the corner of his eye he saw his fellow Jedi spin, and he saw the Makashi user strike at him. For a moment Ki'an thought his friend would be lost, but the agile Selkath leapt into the air, receiving a cut along his back, but nothing that would be life-threatening. As the other Jedi struck at the Mon Cal's back, Ki'an had to come up with a way to break the saber lock.

Ki'an's idea was simple. He stepped further back from the Mon Cal so that he could get around the blade and then deactivated his lightsaber. He hoped that this would force the Mon Cal's blade forward from the momentum of the saber lock. As his saber deactivated Ki'an would step to the side, aiming to get his body alongside the Mon Cal. Reactivating his saber, Ki'an would strike at the Sith's hopefully exposed side as the Selkath attacked from behind.

 

[Darth Isolda]

Location: Meditation Chamber
Objective: Play with the lost little Vahla
Enemies: Jedi and Republic Allies
Allies: One Sith and Allies
Music: Imperatrix Mundi

Moisture would carve silver rivulets over the inky tips of Darth Isolda's fingers. Pleasure would radiate from the Chosen of Vahl as she could feel the rolling waves of agony coming from the Sword.

A throaty chuckle would come bubbling forth, her right hand dipping to caress [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] 's right cheek, her thumb smearing a scarlet stain of her own blood over her cheek.

"[SIZE=10.5pt]Pretty little lost Vahla... The Goddess welcomes you anew.[/SIZE]" she'd purr out in a succulent tone. "[SIZE=10.5pt]She pleasures in your resurfacing. Joy in your fear.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]There is no shame in this. To fear is to know truth. The glory of His Name. Her Truth.[/SIZE]" her metallic breath etched in sanguine notes would breathe over her. "[SIZE=10.5pt]It is in your eyes... yes... your eyes...[/SIZE]"

​

Mad words went spilling from the zealots lips, her inky grip applying enough pressure to ensure Aaralyn's visage would be upturned to hers.

"[SIZE=10.5pt]Eyes are the windows to the soul....[/SIZE]" her thumb would caress her cheek anew, like a mother to her wayward child. "[SIZE=10.5pt]All that you have accomplished, all that you have won, yet still.... you lick the boots of heretics.[/SIZE]" she would softly chide. "[SIZE=10.5pt]Give into the bosom of Vahl, child. Only in chaos can destruction give new birth. New life[/SIZE]."

"Embrace your rage," she'd say in emphasis, fingers gripping tightly along the Sword's jaw, "[SIZE=10.5pt]Caress your fear. Gorge your hatred. Voice your doubts.[/SIZE]"

"[SIZE=10.5pt]I can taste the essence of your soul...... it is sweet.[/SIZE]" the corner of her crimson mouth would perk, and once again, her voice would thrum with polyphonic timbres. The Crone, the Mother, and the Maiden, all rolled into one. Past, Present, Future. "A̴ye.̢.͝..͠y͏ou̷ t̢ast̵e͝ ̶of Fa̷te.͡ ̷ ͝Of҉ P͞rophe͡cy. O̶f He̵r͟ gl҉or͏i̢òu͞s pl͝a̸n͢.”

“Of̕ D͝e̷s̛t͠i͟ny̢.”

Isolda’s sharp nails would start to curl inward, bloody crescents digging indentations across the grimey visage of the Jedi, threatening to break flesh.

“Ye͞ss͠…..̀swe͝et ̀ch͞ìld̕ ̴of͝ mine.͢" that grip would claw her nails deeper, and this time it was with resonating call of power.


“Th͝e Go͞dd͡ess has̕ ̀c͘hos҉en̴ ͏y̨o̴u.” Isolda would start to slip herself into the limitless currents of energy that surged and swayed throughout existence itself. They would both be able to feel the immensity of it all, the sheer gargantuan potential of the Force.

“You ͢shal̶l be͢ p̀ųr̵ìfie҉d͝ in ̧Her f̵ire,” It was a promise spoken with power. Chanted with ethereal bonds as she would wrap herself in the infinite web of energy of the Darkside of the Force, meshing her will with it, bringing into her mind to bear on the control of it.

“F̡or͏ged by ͟by̸ He̷r ͠hand͠," it would surge through her like electricity dancing on the tips of her fingers, at the ends of her lashes.

“̛T͜em̡p̶e҉r̵ed by ͟t̶he h̡amm̛e̷r of̸ Her͜ Wil̶l.͜”̨ she would breathe out, her heart and mind in full control for the focus necessary for the upcoming task, her fingers trailing upwards until she would cradle the Jedi’s head in her hands. The chestnut strands would tangle in Isolda’s fingers, fall and curl against those strands. If Aaralyn were to struggle, she would find Isolda’s grip would only intensify as a maniacal expression would bring the sharp bones of her face to stark focus.

The Force would swirl through her mind, running tendrils down her arms and along her fingers… and then through them, attempting to charge against the oh so mortal barrier of Aaralyn’s skull.

“Sha͘r̶p͡ened͝ in H͡e̷r ima̷g̸e.” every effort of her attention would be solely concentrated in erasing the Sword of the Jedi’s memories. A monumental task that would take time to fully complete, but one that would provide the foundation for the Chosen of Vahl to forge the Sword...into one of her own.

​

It would begin with the most recent of memories, and the longer she maintained her hold upon the woman, the more she would strip away.

Her ultimate goal? A tabula rosa.

A blank slate for the Sword of Vahl to be forged in Her image.

Her truth.​

Her MARVELOUS glory.​

 

[Marcus Faust]

Traycn wasn't the only one done playing games. As the saber went for his legs, Marcus shot up, the blade flying under him. From twenty feet up he came down. Hard. Slamming into the ground with the power of the force, Vindica smashed into the ground, a shockwave of force energy exploding outwards. That would hopefully throw Traycn off as he loosed his own saber at the Jedi, the blade flying towards him rapidly. But he had not intention of retrieving that blade. Twin blades shot out from under his arm, the gauntlets were in full use now.

Darting forward he dropped into a slide, going for [member="Tracyn Ordo"]'s right a,d stabbing at the man's knee. The Sith Lord would attempt to bring the Jedi down to his knees, and knowing Traycn, fight him until the man finally died. The though of the Jedi to his right surrendering was beyond preposterous, so he didn't even consider it.

 

[Doctor Agnusdei]

Spoiler

Locations (The Six Doppleganger Droids/Agnusdei): Iron Citadel, Great Library of Cinnagar, Alderaan Museum of Fine Arts, Monument to Lost Navigators, Cinnagar Space Traffic Control Tower, Cinnagar Residential District, Hyperspace Navigator's Guildhouse
Objectives: Finish the task assigned.
Allies: [member="Darth Kentarch"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Shara"] [member="Darth Banshee"] [member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Darth Praelior"] [member="Darth Veles"] [member="Erin Darkstar"] [member="Lady Exedō"] [member="Disciple"] [member="Darth Vindica"] [member="Darth Naomi"] [member="Darth Vornskr"] [member="Maya Whitelight"] [member="Azalus"] [member="Darth Helios"] [member="Albrecht Tagge"] [member="Kasamann"] [member="Daella Apparine"] [member="Sai Fel"] [member="Saki"] [member="Vulpesen"] [member="Aedan Miles"] [member="Cree Oyaya"] [member="Skosk Fett"] [member="Tracyn Ordo"] [member="Eyrecae Alzari"] [member="Maria Natalja"] [member="Hasjo Hallu"] [member="Rasu Gan"] [member="Lok Jorunn"] @Turin @Val Kur [member="Marcello Matteo"] [member="Talon Vosra"] [member="Avalore Eden"] [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Kiskla Grayson"] [member="Michael Sardun"] @Ki'an Karr


Iron Citadel
The creature finished the task before it and stepped to the side of the tower room. As it neared the window and the small box beneath it, the sinister thing activated its commlink.

"[member="Darth Kentarch"]..." came the rasping whisper, a response to the Sith's earlier message. "It... is time... Meet with me... At the top of the Library... We must... Depart..."

At this, the creature stooped and opened the small box at his feet. It removed a few papers, a pair of datachips, and a small, long, black box. Once done, it tucked them all into a small satchel and sealed the bag. Standing straight once more, the bird-like thing made his way down the tower to the landing pad at its base.

The plan was simple: descend the tower, board the shuttle at the landing pad, and leave with the small number of things stolen from the One Sith. Namely, a small amount of intelligence, both on paper and in datachips, and [member="Darth Shara"]'s toothbrush. Why a toothbrush? Agnusdei would never say.

The Great Library of Cinnagar
The last fuses set, the last detonators rigged, and the creature straightened once more. Satisfied with its work, it stood back to admire the device in all of its glory. After a few moments, the thing made the rounds of the room. It opened windows and doors, turned on the ventilation, and generally did whatever it could to make sure that, when the bomb went off, the chemicals inside would go as far and as wide as possible.

Once the last window was opened and the last vent activated, the thing stepped over to a moderately sized box. Opening the container, it peered in at the contents inside. Stacks of books and small baubles filled the box, filling the thing to the brim with what appeared to be useless things. The contents were, however, far from useless. Each was a worth a small fortune, to the right buyer. Books dating back hundreds of years, rare collectibles that obscure individuals would spend thousands upon. It had even found an obscure series of texts detailing Force powers as well as a rare text on the Aing-Ti monks. With the bits and baubles of artifacts it'd collected from within the library, including a small, ancient holoportrait of Empress Teta herself, it could easily rebuild its lab elsewhere and without disturbance.

Satisfied at the work completed, the creature closed the box at its feet and lifted the thing, seemingly effortlessly. With a precise turn on its heel, Agnusdei headed towards the stairs. The roof was the target, and from there, escape.

Alderaan Museum of Fine Arts
The last of the work finished, the carrion bird thing started a new task. It, too, made certain that the chemicals would go as far and as wide as possible. It, too, opened vents and windows and doors for this purpose. Satisfied at the job it had done, it made its way to one of the lower floors. It could hear the sounds of fighting outside, but was secure in its knowledge that it was, in fact, at the rear of the building.

Soon, it reached its destination. The loading bay was empty save for a few things. A hovertruck stood in the middle of the bay. Around it stood boxes and bundles. Inside each were priceless artifacts, works of art, and invaluable sculptures and busts. Each was ancient. Each was venerable. Each would fetch a high price at market.

The thing approached the truck and began loading the boxes and bundles into the enclosed bed of the hovertruck.

Monument to the Lost Navigators
The last of its task complete, the carrion-thing stepped aside and checked over its work. Satisfied all had been wired correctly, it picked up the only thing nearby that it wished to save: The plaque from the monument itself. Was it valuable? Was it worth something? Agnusdei knew not. At best, it could fund his lab. At worst, it was a valued trophy. It mattered little. The task at hand was done.

Agnusdei began to calmly walk away from the bomb it had made. Death was coming on misted wings.

Cinnagar Space Traffic Control Tower
Amidst the carnage of the tower, another sinister form stood. It, too, had finished the wiring and arming of the device before it. Now, it stood calmly and quietly before the data lecterns it had commandeered.

Streams of data and binary scrolled across the screens, casting the thing's mask in an eerie glow. It had begun downloading the flight records from within the control tower's database. Republic codes, One Sith codes, and multitudes of civilian and commercial transponder data funneled into Agnusdei's datacore. Soon, he'd have the information he needed and, from there, it would be time to leave.

Cinnagar Residential District
Another bomb finished, another satisfied creature. It inspected the work once more before stepping aside. It collected what little gear it had brought with it and made its way from the site.

It made its way to the streets and began to calmly walk along the roads. It knew that thousands - No! Tens of thousands if not far more - hid in the district. Taking refuge in cellars and inner rooms. Some risked peering from windows, braver ones gazed from their roofs, all feared what could happen with the fighting raging on.

They didn't know that the fighting mattered little. They were all already dead. They just didn't know it yet.

Hyperspace Navigator's Guildhouse
The last of the figures was seen in the Guildhouse, staring at its work. The bomb was done, the windows and vents were open. The chemicals would spread to the maximum, much like the other locations.

It stepped to a nearby table and began taking the datacores and holodisks there, placing them in a satchel. It had taken the time to raid the navigation routes held within the Guildhouse's databanks and had converted them to disc form. Once done, it had begun making the bomb it was tasked with.

The data now in the bag, as it were, the thing made its way to the roof and the landing pad there. It was time to leave this city, this planet.

Death was coming, a city would perish, a population's fate had been sealed.

Locations (The Six Doppleganger Droids/Agnusdei): Iron Citadel, Great Library of Cinnagar, Alderaan Museum of Fine Arts, Monument to Lost Navigators, Cinnagar Space Traffic Control Tower, Cinnagar Residential District, Hyperspace Navigator's Guildhouse
Objective: Finish packing and leave
Allies: [member="Darth Kentarch"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Shara"] [member="Darth Banshee"] [member="Hion the Herglic"] [member="Darth Praelior"] [member="Darth Veles"] [member="Erin Darkstar"] [member="Lady Exedō"] [member="Disciple"] [member="Darth Vindica"] [member="Darth Naomi"] [member="Darth Vornskr"] [member="Maya Whitelight"] [member="Azalus"] [member="Darth Helios"] [member="Albrecht Tagge"] [member="Kasamann"] [member="Daella Apparine"] [member="Sai Fel"] [member="Saki"] [member="Vulpesen"] [member="Aedan Miles"] [member="Cree Oyaya"] [member="Skosk Fett"] [member="Tracyn Ordo"] [member="Eyrecae Alzari"] [member="Maria Natalja"] [member="Hasjo Hallu"] [member="Rasu Gan"] [member="Lok Jorunn"] @Turin @Val Kur [member="Marcello Matteo"] [member="Talon Vosra"] [member="Avalore Eden"] [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Kiskla Grayson"] [member="Michael Sardun"] @Ki'an Karr
Music:

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M17c7d82WL4

Iron Citadel
The carrion creature exited the tower onto the landing pad and took stock of its surroundings. No one in sight, no one to stop it. It stood there, quietly, and soaked in the moment in silence. After what seemed like an eternity, it began walking once more. The staccato click of its heels and cane tapping out a firm rhythm as it made its way to the shuttle.

Once there, it carefully climbed in and settled itself. It ran through the startup sequences and activated the ship just as calmly as it had when arming and making the bomb earlier. After a few moments, the shuttle rose from the landing pad and began heading towards the Great Library of Cinnagar.

The Great Library of Cinnagar
As the klaxons blared and the library shut down, following the automated security protocols programmed in to its database, the sinister thing that had made the bomb and condemned hundreds to death turned and looked at the door it had just passed through. The portal slammed itself shut and locked completely. From below, he could hear windows being shuttered and the cessation of the ventilation system.

Annoyed, the thing turned and continued out onto the roof with the box in its hands. It had desired to return and, perhaps, fill and retrieve another box. Possibly two more. Now, it could no longer do so. The doors were locked and sealed and, undoubtedly, someone had done so in an attempt to find the bomb and, perhaps, the masked doctor.

Capture was not an option at this point. Failure was also impossible. The creature set the box at its feet and waited. It had to leave, soon, otherwise it, too, would be caught in the blast.

In the distance, coming from the Iron Citadel, it could see the shuttle on its way. As an afterthought, it decided to send a discrete comm message out, appraising another of the situation.

Alderaan Museum of Fine Arts/Teta Museum of Fine Arts and Antiquities
The bundles were loaded, the boxes were stowed. It was quick, easy work for the creature. It closed the rear of the enclosed truck and opened the shutter door for the loading bay.

The door rattled and clanked open, allowing the creature to see the roads and side roads ahead that it needed to take. It climbed into the driver's seat and started the hovertruck. With a low rumble, the vehicle, filled to the brim with priceless works of art, trundled out of the door and onto the streets.

It began heading to the Cinnagar Space Traffic Control Tower.

Monument to the Lost Navigators
Another creature calmly walked in the shadow of the great monument. It was a massive thing, a tribute to those who had perished in the effort of establishing new hyperlanes and discovering what lay amongst the stars.

Agnusdei cared little for such things. For the masked doctor, they were but trivial matters. A new hyperlane wasn't a marvel of the galaxy. It was a road, albeit a large and extravagant one. True glory and success lay in making the impossible possible. Creating new things, making new tools. Not laying a space-road in the void. New creatures held more potential than a simple road. To take life away. To create it. That was what made up true success.

The thing knew this to be true. It knew this to be the only truth that mattered. With this in its mind, the sinister thing continued to walk.

It made its way nearby where a simple speeder bike lay. Within moments, it was driving towards the residential district.

Cinnagar Space Traffic Control Tower
The datacore chimed and blinked, signaling that it was done. The creature reached out and pulled the thing from the dataconsole and slipped it into a satchel that it carried. Once done, it took up whatever tools that it had left lying around and made its way to the door. From there, it was a simple matter to enter the turbolift that ran to the base of the tower.

Once at the Tower's base, it approached a nondescript shuttle located nearby. It, much like the other Agnusdei at the Citadel, ran through the check offs and start up sequences. In a short time, the shuttle lifted off and headed towards the Residential District.

Cinnagar Residential District
It had made its way from the bomb site and upwards, atop one of the nearby houses. The roof was broad and wide, seated atop one of the taller buildings nestled among the homes and houses. The creature stood there, waiting silently and patiently, and looked out over the district.

Soon, a white, choking mist would fill the homes and streets with death. Tens upon tens of thousands would perish in minutes. Those who escaped the initial cloud would suffer for hours before succumbing to the toxins. It would permeate everything and kill everyone within the could that stood unprotected. In but mere minutes, everyone here would be dead.

The stark beauty of such a thing would warm the creature's soul, if it had one. It stood there, gazing, as it waited for the shuttle in the distance to arrive, coming from the control tower.

Hyperspace Navigator's Guildhouse
The last creature made its way to the landing pad on the roof. Another shuttle stood waiting for a pilot. Another creature to make its escape.

It cared little for those nearby or those the bombs would kill. It only cared for what it was doing. What it was tasked with. What the great plan would yield. To do anything other than this would put the plans at risk. Put Agnusdei at risk. Put scientific progress at risk.

With this in mind, it climbed into the shuttle. In moments it was ready for takeoff. Before it did so, however, it sent a message out with information it had received from the Agnusdei at the Great Library.

"... [member="Darth Kentarch"]," it rasped as the shuttle lifted off. "The Library... is compromised... Meet me in front... of the Navigator's Guildhouse... Be quick... My plan will begin in mere minutes..."

 

[Alan]

[member="Darth Vindica"] was a vicious man, but Tracyn was perhaps one of the most well-trained killing machines present in the galaxy, fighting one of the most ferocious, determined and loyal Sith in the galaxy. Marcus was an assassin by nature, and Tracyn was a warrior. It was interesting to see how the two played each other, and so far, neither had landed any substantial blows. Tracyn definitely had been knocked around more than Marcus, but that was mainly due to Marcus' more potent abilities with the force.

Blades shot forth at him, but not before the shockwave of the force hit him. It sent him backwards, tumbling along the ground. He saw the red blade, slinging towards him as he stood up. Everything stood in slow motion in Tracyn's eyes. His bare-chested body brought up his crushgaunt adorned hands, placing the palm to the side. The blade hissed along the beskar, before he felt the clang of the hilt of the Sith's lightsaber. He grasped the hilt, as his own was too far away to use now. He heard the green blade snap back into the hilt, before Tracyn turned the blade downwards, moving the red blade towards the gauntlet blade that Marcus was using.

Red blades met, and there was a vicious hiss as Tracyn swatted away the attack on his knee. Marcus was on his knees, sliding towards Tracyn. The very thing that he was trying to attack was now going to counter him. He brought his left knee across his body, his Beskar-plated knee aiming for the face of the sliding Sith. He waited the sickening crunch of bone meeting metal.

"Desperation is an ugly color, Marcus."

 

[The End Narrator]

MUSIC:

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Ngf6uKNsiU

Memories flashed through her mind and were gone in an instant. Like dust in the wind, or a flash of lightning on a stormy day. The probes of [member="Darth Isolda"] tore through her memories and her prefrontal cortex like a tempered sword through flesh. Ripping away the very things she cherished. Each memory that came to mind, exploded into particles of nothingness. The ethereal presence of Aaralyn standing in her own mind as the very presence of Isolda laughed before her, manically as she destroyed each picture and thought.

Each emotion had an emotional attachment, sorrow, rage, happiness. It didn't matter, like that they came and then they were taken from her. Each time, she reacted physically, her eyes going wide and then returning to a normal gaze. Her heart rate increasing and slowing down with each moment that Isolda gripped her nails into her soft flesh. Tendrils of chestnut brown hair fell loosely about her as she stared at the ceiling, trying to regain control of her own mind. The cackling laugh of evil echoing through the walls of her brain, the sound of Isolda taunting her making her feel even more weak.

When the memories of [member="Ayden Cater"] came to light, Aaralyn felt defiant and for a moment there was a block that attempted to shut out the Dark Lady but she wasn't strong enough. The wall shattered within her own mind and soon, despite her weeping plea, Ayden was gone from her mind. The very passion she felt when they first kiss to the feeling of her heart skipping a beat when she was around him. Gone, like that. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest, against her eardrums. Tears of grief and rage burned her eyes and streamed down her face as she struggled against Isolda to no avail, her amber hued eyes glossy and wide. The fear in her heart slowly being replaced by anger.

Then she screamed...

A terrifying scream that would echo through the ages came from her broken form, reverberating through the Iron Citadel. A scream that came from one who was being ripped apart from the inside, the mental anguish turning into a physical manifestation that made her broken ribs appear to be child's play. A scream from a human being who was being washed of her very being. As the pain began to accumulate, she would gnash her teeth together to such an extent that she would drool out the sides of her mouth. She couldn't focus, she couldn't fight it...but she would not submit.

[member="Ember Rekali"]...who...Dad!?

The name brought memories to the forefront of the assault and quickly Isolda would destroy them. Her hands started to shake as she attempted to bring them up to [member="Darth Isolda"]'s shoulders and pry herself free. Each passing moment brought her closer and closer to the edge, darkness itching away at her core. She felt the burning anger within her build, flaring at her core, tempting her to unleash it. She cried in anger, in pain, in genuine suffering from the choice before her.

Succumb to the darkness or lose the memories of those she loved forever.

Aaralyn's gazed locked with Isolda, and for that moment she swore in her mind, she would never forget that face. She would find a way to burn the image of this woman into her mind. The sneering gaze of the woman who held her face like a scolding parent of a child who wandered off too far. The gaze of a woman who desired nothing more than chaos and to bend the Galaxy to the will of darkness. "I will...." Aaralyn took a deep breath. "never submit to your goddess..." Aaralyn took a long, ragged breath and gritted her teeth. "I will kill you..." She began to weep softly. "I swear it..." Her gaze flickered back and forth between Isolda's dark gaze, her eyes narrowing into slits. "I swear it by my blood..."

 

[Darth Armyss]

Location: The Great Library - Storage
Objective: Locate and disable the chemical bomb before it's too late, or, failing that, keep casualties to a minimum
Allies: One Sith and five Unseelie sithspawn
Enemies: [member="Doctor Agnusdei"], Time itself

Frantically, the acolyte continued to search container after container with the Force, but every time, he found nothing. Two minutes passed...five minutes...and still...nothing. Every second he wasted was a second closer to detonation, and if the bomb went off, there was no telling what kind of carnage would result, but what he did know was two things: it would be excruciating, and this close to the bomb, there would be only one relief: the sweet embrace of death itself.

Then, suddenly, he saw it; in the back of the room, a large box containing many different artifacts, and at the bottom, a suspicious shape that might be the bomb he was looking for. Quickly, he sliced the top open with one of his sith swords, then started frantically removing everything on top of the object, until all that remained was a massive, fifty-gallon drum of the type one would usually keep fuel in. Strapped to the outside were multiple packets of high explosives, a veritable Gorgon's Knot of wires, and a timer...

Only now, upon seeing the sheer size of the device, did Albrecht realize just how deadly this bomb was. At first he thought it would only kill those in the library and the surrounding area, but no...this was going to kill thousands...no...millions if it went off here and now. It took a moment for this to settle in, but nevertheless it was a sobering thought - he couldn't afford to let the bomb detonate, no matter what, and so began the slow process of trying to find which wires could be cut without setting it off, a difficult task not only because of the sheer number of wires, but because the bomb was designed to be next to impossible to disarm once activated. The race was on, between the Sith Acolyte...and death itself.

 

[Avalore Eden]

[member="Turin Val Kur"] [member="Jannik Morlandt"] [member="Maria Natalja"] [member="Darth Shara"] [member="Hion the Herglic"]

Avalore was screaming - one ear drum ruptured and the other threatening to be, saved from the full blast at the last minute with the use of a weak Force Shield. Jannik wasn't hard pressed to get his arm from the Icarii, who had also stumbled at the sonic attack. Though likely the only one in the entire group experienced in the blood-fest of war, Turak was the first back to his feet, though clearly in pain.

She was calling for her team members, at least she thought she was, but Avalore fumbled when she noticed the deluge of blood dripping from her right ear. The world was spinning, the ground was shaking, another demonic voice was on the winds but she couldn't understand. Avalore heaved painful sobs, staggering to her feet until she found a wall on her left and used it to regain her barings. A wild-eyed glance was cast over her shoulder at the scene of the Herglic now advancing on them with his deadly weapon blazing the path ahead of him and -

"Turik .... TURIK ... WHAT IS THAT?!"
But all she could hear of herself was WOP-WOP WA WOP WAA?!

That was probably all Turik heard too.
The Icarii shook its head and began fumbling for something on his person.

 

[Marcus Faust]

"I prefer creativity." The Sith shot back, standing up, with a now broken nose, dripping blood from [member="Tracyn Ordo"]'s far to successful counter with the knee. He didn't truly think about what he did next, it came naturally, he smiled. The grin tugged the scarred and pale flesh that was Vindica's outer shell, it would've been disturbing probably if Traycn had time to look at it. Darting left, Vindica slashed at the neck of the Jedi quickly before ducking low and stepping back. He'd learned staying close wasn't the brightest move with Ordo, so he'd changed his strategy.

He sprung right, the closest gauntlet going for where Traycn's crushgaunt met the rest of the beskar, hoping to strike the area in-between. Ordo had to learn that Marcus could hit him as well. That was the goal anyway.