Invasion War in the Rim Chapter II — GA Invasion of SO held Sluis Van and Echnos

[Judah Lesan]

Wearing: xxx
Allies: Connel Vanagor | Lt. Bren Alazar | Gress D'ran | Jonyna Si | Varys Amun | Tarw Rhyfelwr | Vulpesen | Zaiya Ceti | Avery Vaaki
Enemies: Srina Talon

Vision remained blurred. Judah was forced to fight between his nightmares and the device in front of him. It continued to draw his emotion from him. Judah had struggled in his youth with keeping his feelings in check and balance. This was not a lack of discipline which came from immaturity, but rather the Jedi had been compromised by the pure power of the dark side, and the damage of his injuries. He had pushed ahead when caution would have told him to hold back. Judah was too stubborn to quit, however, and it would be the end of him some day, and likely soon.

Light and dark waged a war deep inside Judah’s psyche. The truth, something he should have known but had failed to see, plagued his thoughts. There should have been many questions, but Judah knew the grandmaster well enough to know that whatever he wanted to ask was muted with undeniable facts. He did not need to ask if it was true, he knew it was.

Horror fed the machine, his horror. The Sith Order was fuelled by what happened to Darth Empyrean, and it made Judah sick inside. The New Jedi Order was the reason the Sith Order was wreaking havoc on the galaxy, and the shadow could not justify his presence on Echnos City any longer. His attack on the device was not for the sake of aiding the Galactic Alliance in their victory, but it was for something simpler, basic, and carnal.

Self preservation.

The force alerted him to something coming toward him. Judah turned in barely enough time to cut the chair that had been launched at him in half. She would not spare him. Her message with the attack had been clear. If he persisted in trying to stop the device, she would kill him. The Echani had accused him of playing the fool, and perhaps she was correct. However, while she had sermonized him on his folly, the Empress had not listened to him.

Oh, she had said his life would not be enough, but if laying it down meant he could save just one, he would do so willingly.

His eyes went to his arm. Judah had not noticed the flesh had torn. The visual reminder of what he had lost at the hands of the Sith fueled the machine even more. Judah remembered the moment vividly. His duel with a Sith had been more than he could handle. Judah had yet been made a Jedi Knight, but had he not faced the Sith a fellow Jedi would have died, one Judah had cared about. The fear he felt, the panic, as he realized his skill was not enough to defeat the Sith alone was pulled to the front of his mind. Heat seared through his flesh causing the smell of burning skin and muscle tissue to flood his nostrils.

Judah cried out in pain as he reached for his arm.

His companion had been saved, but his arm had been lost.

Time was a blur as he remembered the way he lost his fingers on the other hand. A Sith, a witch, tried to get him to turn. She caused pain until he gave in. Why, because she could. Judah had gotten between her and what she wanted. His fingers had been the price of his foolishness. The shadow managed to escape, but the phobia device had pulled all the trauma the Jedi experienced, the fear he felt in the moment was used to power the waves which continued to pour out from the mansion into the city.

“You do not understand, do you?”

His attention was no longer on destroying the machine. Blue eyes turned to the Echani, her golden gaze was pure and stunning. Judah could not deny the woman was beautiful. Even the twisted perversion of the dark side made her seem more marvelous in a way. It would be a shame to have to fight her, but if that was where all of this was headed, then so be it.

“You say that as though I have something to lose. As far as I am concerned my life is already forfeit. So you tell me, what am I actually going to lose?”

His feet shuffled against the floor, moving the debris about with him as he did. Judah was moving toward her. The Echani was still near the device, but he had forgotten about it for the moment. It was as if he felt like there was something to prove to this woman.

From his estimation she had more to gain by keeping him alive than he had to lose by dying. Yet, Judah was not a complete fool. He would not throw himself on his own sword just to stop her. They were not locked in a physical battle, though it was turning toward it. Even as the device continued to beat out its rhythmic hum, Judah knew if wished to shut down the machine he would need to go through the Echani to do so.

His blade turned to the woman as she rose from the ground. It was unnatural and ethereal. The grace with which she moved only added to her beauty and seductive song. She would be easy to follow to the dark side if Judah was not so emphatically committed to the light side. His commitment was not one to waver even when it was in his best interest to do so. It would not fail now, and it would not fail when the time to confront Valery over what he learned here came.

Was he optimistic that he would live?

Foolishly so.

Just because Judah admitted he had nothing to live for, did not mean he wished for his life to be over. As long as the force filled his lungs with breath, the Jedi would fight for what he understood to be right. Regardless of Srina Talon’s view of cause and effect, her actions were still wrong. Valery cutting down her husband did not justify turning an entire city upon itself just to keep it from falling into the hands of the Galactic Alliance.

This was not war.

It was unforgivable brutality.

This action was no less wrong than what she accused the Jedi of doing. Judah supposed the only difference was, the Sith did not care. They could behave this way, and they would until someone strong enough came along to stop them. It was a challenge, a dare, as much as it was a statement.

“We both know I am not going to stop. You have seen enough of my foolish resolve to know that I cannot let this device remain active. Stand aside or force me to go through you to get to it. I will succeed, or I will die.”

His eyes locked with hers.

“I am not leaving until either outcome is achieved.”

Judah turned back toward the machine and lunged for it once more. His course had been decided.

 

[Jonyna Si]

Her Shield: Jenn Kryze
Her Foe: Darth Carnifex​

Fear.

It was almost a foreign concept to Jonyna. Not that she hadn't felt it, but it was so behind her at this point. Nothing scared her more than running for her life to planets unknown from faceless hordes of Stormtroopers.

But she had moved past that. She had overcome that. Fear was no longer a phantom that haunted her.

And yet, even back then, it was a stranger. Jonyna didn't run. Not after finding her sword. Not after fighting her saber. Not after finding Giran, and Sylvar, and Mom.

No. Jonyna didn't get scared. She got even. She fought back. Fought harder. Fear was not a concept she understood. But tenacity. That she understood.

That's what overtook her. The undying feeling of being unable to give up. Unable to back down. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

But she wasn't alone anymore. Taam might have left her, but she found her Lyrana. She found her shield.

The monster came down on her with a flurry of blows, and yet Jonyna was no stranger to fighting quick opponents. The blood rush that had overtaken her only made her quicker, faster, more focused. The arms of the giant were long, allowing her to see the towering hulks of meat and metal telegraph each blow. She bobbed and weaved, allowing the Force to propel her, taking every opportunity to allow the monster to expose it's arms in wide swings, and taking lightning jabs with the tip of her cortosis lined katana at the exposed biceps. She knew this would be a battle of attrition, a war fought in the long term. She needed to widdle away at it. Get every strike she could to allow herself the opportunity to wound it. Even a single blow would be a victory, her name written in the stars. The Cathar who made Darth Carnifex bleed, just as Sylvar had all those years ago. She moved back and back, her boots allowing her the ability to glide across uneven ground.

Then he turned his attention to Jenn as she struck, flashing his cloak of beskar, or at least...a form of it. Jonyna didn't really understand the difference, nor was she familiar with it. All she knew, is that she had an opening. Her tail reached into her coat, and pulled out a weapon once designed to deal with true Mandalorians. One she had told Jenn Kryze about, but didn't expect to have to use in front of her so soon.

Firing the pistol right at Darth Carnifex 's chest, she hoped the instantaneous matching of the harmonic frequency with Beskar, a metal it had been designed to damage, would allow her an opening. Anything. The river of sonic energy flooded out of the weapon, just as Carnifex fled forward, following it as the monster fled.

No hope.

That was what it told them.

Jonyna looked to The Monster with a glare, like staring the Reaper himself in the eyes.

"Prove it." She spat, Jenn hearing Jonyna's voice beside her, despite them being several feet away. The wind carried it, even when Jonyna's mouth couldn't.

"That sword is longer than mine. I can't rely on my normal strategy to beat it. We need to unarm that thing."

 

[Srina Talon]

Nearby Allies: [SO] Gerwald Lechner Kaila Irons Darth Carnifex Velda Nar-Donna Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax
Distant Allies: [SO] Jarek Voss Darth Ultramar Kasir Dorran Velda Nar-Donna Darth Nefaron QK-2510 Festerruman Sachiel
Enemies: [GA] Connel Vanagor Lt. Bren Alazar Gress D'ran Jonyna Si Varys Amun Tarw Rhyfelwr Vulpesen Judah Lesan Jenn Kryze Zaiya Ceti Avery Vaaki
Location: [Echnos City] - Governmental Residence/War Room/Makeshift Ritual Chamber
______________________________________________________

Fear and nightmares flooded unchecked into the starving phobis, which meant, that she also witnessed the terror that was engulfing the city. She could feel it all in the back of her mind in the form of an eternal burden…But her resolve could not be broken. Her will was made of iron and no matter the pandemonium Echnos City fell toward—She would remain. She followed the fears of her Sith with a more vested interest than the rest. It behooved her to know, to understand, what plagued them in this most challenging hour. In Kasir Dorran she found the lost child.

The little boy who lived on the streets of Dromund Kaas. Abandoned.

The memory would feel changed, just slightly, in her profane intervention. His rage was fuel for the fire, a breath of life, but he would notice a flickering difference in what he recalled. A whispering female figure with long white hair who stood with the boy rather than looking down on him. There were no words. Merely, an invisible hand to the shoulder. Her power—Their power. It would make him stronger, more resilient, if only he managed to channel his fury and accept the truth beyond the pale.

He never had to be powerless again…He never had to be that boy again.

That was what she offered her people.

Her focus was pulled from the occultist with the thoughtspeak response from the being formerly known as Kaila Irons . Srina could feel her questions, and her confusion, but she could also feel an intelligent mind at work. She would come to her conclusions in time…That she was not small. She was not, weak. Darth Carnifex did not expend energy on broken, useless things. The Echani offered a mental inclination of her head in support of the unholy transition.

The moment that Darth Anathemous arrived to seize their crown was a victory that belonged only to the apprentice herself. The whispered gratitude that was expressed was met with quiet repose. As if such a thing had always been possible.

As if—She had always known, despite, not knowing Kaila at all.

“…Always and forever.”

A promise.

She would always remind the Sith who they were. The quiet woman would always seek their strength, their ability, and push them past their limits. The phobis device was indeed a tool that held the possibility of shaking the Alliance to its very core. It was also a relic that was capable of testing and birthing Sith of the highest caliber. Those who meditated on it either went mad or unlocked secrets that had been buried into the soil of the Dark Temple for generations.

It offered a choice. The opportunity to rise—Or succumb to terror-bound oblivion.

Her mental faculties shifted back to the present. Back, to the nuisance of Judah Lesan .

The diminutive woman stood deceptively tall before the little fool, drained of life and spirit, yet fueled by punishing and exacting determination. It didn’t seem to matter what she “could” or “could not” do in the moment. Only, that she would see it through. Cruel eyes of embittered gold locked onto Judah in the same way a targeting system might find its quarry. His words held no meaning for her—morality, justice, life, and death were all but tools in her hand, and she wielded them with precision.

The hum of the device echoed the pulse of her strength as she held the Jedi’s gaze, his pain feeding the dark power surrounding her. She could feel the tension in his resolve, how the light in him wavered like an old bulb that needed changing. The relic thrummed between them, alive, breathing darkness that continually fed on his trauma and amplified it. His emotions were palpable, raw, and rose like so many others—To feed her machine.

He was one of many, his fear, but a drop in an endless sea of torment. The keening wails outside the window would attest to that well enough.

“I misunderstand…Nothing.”

Her voice cut through the tension, cold, as the space between stars. The Jedi had such a narrow viewpoint that she sincerely questioned how he had made it through life thus far. Pitiless orbs that burned with the light of two dying suns flickered while he contemplated right, wrong, and everything else in-between. His thoughts were plain. “Yes. I am unforgivable.”

“I am brutality. I am finality—And for the first time, perhaps, you realize that this is war.”

It was not the meek, bloodless battle he wanted...But what had he expected?

That they would break bread and come to a peaceful conclusion? That the Sith Order would suddenly stop and bow to the might of the Alliance with heads hung low, shamed, and repentant?

He threw a gauntlet at her feet, the same choice, that she had given him. Her head tilted in what would appear to be consideration. The Jedi was stubborn, driven by a fractured sense of purpose that would, without question, lead to his demise. The robed man spoke of his life being forfeit and such impassioned words might have moved others, but it was not a luxury she indulged.

Judah would feel an invisible hand wrap around his throat as he lunged for the device once more.

The same bloody touch that had claimed him before.

“Your life is already mine. You’ve felt it since the moment you stepped into this room. You are no different from all the others who have tried to stand against me…And if this is your wish? I will grant it. You will die, as they did.”

With that, Srina moved. Her exhaustion was betrayed only by the paleness of her skin, but her grace was untouchable, as if the dark side itself had taken her by the hand. Every action was faster than what should have been possible…As if the terror that filled Echnos City sought to empower her, rather, than destroy her. Whether his saber turned toward her or not didn’t matter. She spun, ivory hair swirling like a scorching halo, palm outstretched. Her beauty, which he had inherently noted, was a distraction. It was a terrible lie that concealed the raw violence behind her strike. The flat of her hand connected with Judah’s chest in a brutal, bone-rattling impact. The Force exploded from her touch, seeking to send a shockwave through his body, that would send him crashing back. It would be enough to knock the soul out of anyone. “You should have known better, Jedi.”

She would not give him a moment's reprieve.

“When you fall, know, that it wasn’t the dark side that destroyed you. It was you…As it has always been. You…and your own misguided faith, Jedi boy.”

For a moment…He would not see the Empress of the Sith.

He would see that which he had longed for, that, which he could neither forget nor replace.

The face, the presence, of his long-deceased wife. The illusion would feel real enough that he could smell her perfume. Paint soft, fluffy clouds in the sky, rather than a cold and unfeeling metal dome. Judah…Was wrong. He did have one thing left to lose.

His mind.

​

______________________________________________________
Equipment: Robes | Saber | Ring | Ring | Phobis Device​

 

[Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax]

Objective: 2, Airlock 5 > Airlock 6
Allies: Darth Carnifex , Kaila Irons , Gerwald Lechner , Srina Talon
Neutral: Zaiya Ceti
Forces: Black Bane Spider Company, Starweird Shock Jumper Company, 23rd Blackened Infantry Company
Enemies: Jonyna Si , Jenn Kryze , Varys Amun

Sure enough, the next hit came a moment later. This one struck her on the shoulder with shocking force. She spun, gasped and steadied herself, sending a volley of whistling birds towards the Valkyrie's retreating form. Her arm twinged with every move. This was not good.

The Sith had to circle back around if she wanted to strike again. Varys considered following her, to force her into a turning fight. But she was dizzy and off-balance. She needed time to recover. Instead, Varys turned around, flitting between high-rises to grant herself a few moment's reprieve.

Teresa saw her strike had seemed to have done the job watching the woman topple to the ground. However she was not out the woods yet as the woman saw several micro rockets stream towards her. The first had managed to blow her chest but the Valkyrie had managed to quickly grasp the rest in time with the force blowing them further away. That first explosion had caused a sharp pain with each inhale.

Not letting herself get hung up on an insignificant existence she beat her wings hard and continued on over towards airlock six where she felt a familiar presence. Though unlike most others she was quite well shielded from the works of Srina's ritual. Perhaps that was down to the natural mental resistance of being an Epicanthix Valkyrie.

Yet there was an appreciation for how the air felt heavy with pure dread. How she enjoyed such a crushing feeling run across her skin. It felt similar to being in His presence but with its own personality that ran wild. Though the Blackened Valkyrie did not feel like it was as addictive as her Husbands.

Seeing Mandalorians who'd made it this far facing issues from the miasma, she yawed towards them plucking the man from the air by the back of their neck. Despite the struggle of them waving their arms in fear the Valkyrie ignored it because each lash had less energy in it that the last. After all the Valkyrie was sucking the very life force from him for her own comfort. Once used up she let loose the body dropping it like a beskar solid shot shell.

The woman wanted to go look for her friend right now but had to go once place first to help widen the search in this battlefield, she lowered down to the ground half way between where Varys Amun fell and the battle between Darth Carnifex , Jenn Kryze and Jonyna Si . Gathered along the intersection stood one of the captains who stayed at the Forward operating base. Particularly it was the captain of Black Bane Spider Company.

"Commander!" The man exclaimed seeing the woman. "Our AT-LST's are in place creating kill boxes in strategic positions. There are still plenty on the front line supporting the infantry. Currently our sustained losses are within acceptable range," he said updating the Valkyrie on the situation.

Though her eyes turned to him and bore deep into the man. "I could care less. Though good work... I guess? I didn't ask for a report," she said blankly. "Just kill the enemy, lead my warriors and fulfil my demands. That is your job."

The Captain was still not particularly used to having such a laxed Commander. He was not used to not reporting things immediately to the highest. That more than anything left him on edge around the woman unknowing of what set her off into blind rages. At most they knew about how the woman liked to tease people and goad them into attacking. She simply was to hard to read and was to unruly. Regardless of his grivences he still feared her who attained position next to their Lord.

"Hey put a call out for me, I am looking for a certain being I believe is on the battlefield. Should be within the enemy's side probably. About this six foot, glowing skin really light hair. The glowing is really unique, not like any common thing. Note she's not a target for execution, just looking for her. I think she'd be over towards Airlock six's direction."

"Uh... yeah sure. What do you want us to do if we locate this person?"

"Report to me of their situation and location if you find her before me or if anything happens that needs me here. I will tell you what to do after that. Also, notify the others to target specifically the Mandalorian Warriors. That little brat annoyed me so I want to focus the fliers. The air is mine and mine alone. Pests like them do not belong."

With that she pushed off the ground and few low headed for Airlock six to find Zaiya Ceti from above.

Her screaming quietened, not from a lack of effort but because her vocal cords had frayed and cut her voice loose. Madness danced beneath her skin. Horror twisted her guts. She wanted to claw out her eyes. Dumbly, Varys steered the kite, some baser instinct slowly turning her towards the only waypoint she could see, the one source of light left in the city. The manor.

She hardly noticed when the kite picked up speed, hardly flinched as the buildings raced past her, as the kite wheeled on final, uncontrolled turn, perhaps a few dozen paces from the manor.

A moment before she hit the ground, a single lucid thought entered Varys' mind.

Please. she thought. Please just let me die.

NPC's -

A squad of four Shock Jumpers moved swiftly through the war-torn streets, heading toward their regroup point, as indicated on their HUDs. Each step echoed with the rhythmic "werr-bang" of their hybrid walkers in quick succession. Debris rained down ahead, forcing them to halt. Sparks erupted from a damaged billboard, catching their attention, but one of them instinctively glanced upward while the others scanned their surroundings.

"Hey, above us, it's the commander," one of them called out, pointing to the woman disengaging from her flight path. "Looks like she's found something to play with," he added, the tone of his voice betraying no surprise.

Moments later, they lost sight of her as she executed her attack. One of the soldiers raised his hand off the controls of his KHV-8, performing a quick fist pump, silently cheering her on. But the next second, a dark miasma rolled through the streets. The panicked civilians crumbled under its weight, descending into insanity. Even the squad wasn't entirely free from its influence. If not for their Eternal Father's blessing, they too would have been overwhelmed, just like the rest of the miserable scum.

The fear that crawled into their minds was familiar. The miasma clung to their bodies and machines, and a soft purple glow began to emanate from their eyes. A singular drive whispered them to kill. That soft voice was not enough to overturn them to madness as only one voice was absolute along with His proxies.

They turned their attention to the Mandalorian who had plummeted to the ground. A momentary hesitation was all that was given to the girl as a reprieve as she had her lucid thought. Oblivious or not to the four soldiers closing in, their hybrid walkers' jump-packs whined, thrusters flaring as they leaped forward like predators on the hunt.

Blaster fire rained down from their heavy weapons, an endless stream of red bolts from one side, and slower, heavier plasma shots from the other. Their accuracy was abysmal, but the chaos they caused drew more attention. At the T-shaped junction, the Mandalorian laid was surrounded on three sides.

All eyes were on her, were filled with bloodlust. The soldiers wanted to capture her as a prize for her armor, her weapons, they wanted the trophies and achievements of battle. The overwhelming desire to succeed for Lord Carnifex was what drove them. It was not just this poor girl who was dealing with this kind of experience. it was the same all across the airlock 5 at least. How her kin and allies were being cut down in droves.

High above, on the upper floors of the nearest building to where Varys lay, a massive barrel jutted out from a gap in the ruined wall. The Kainite AT-LST had set up its nest in a large empty event room that gave it space to move in. Every few moments, the mass driver launched another shell, shaking the building and sending more rubble and shattered glass crashing down onto the streets below.

Spoiler: Lightsabers and equipment

Dark Valkyrie Armor
Iroai Amulet

Old Owners Lightsaber

Ancient Lightsaber

Trandoshan Jedi's Lightsaber

Fathers Lightsaber

Svikin hjörtu

Sekitangara

Energy Bow

 

[Gress D'ran]

Friendlies: Vulpesen Avery Vaaki Jonyna Si
Engaging: Festerruman Sachiel
Location: Assaulting Airlock 7
34th Battalion Loadout:

Spoiler

"Firestorm" Walker Company:
Vehicles:
x2 Sphinx Siege/Command Walkers
Cerberus
Kraken
x5 Thundercat Mark II Heavy Assault Walkers
Solo II
Large And In Charge - Frontal Shields Disabled
Big Cat
Showstopper Fronal Shields Disabled, Forward Cannon damaged, Right leg damaged.
Noble Intentions
Jenny
x2 Bobcat Scout Walkers
Nightwing
Drake
x6 Tiger Medium Assault Walkers
Undertaker
Frankly My Dear
Strutter II
Winds of Change
Red Six
Fires of Coruscant
Degeneration-X
x6 Wildcat Mark II Heavy Tanks
Fury
Thunderbolt II
Edith
Cobra King
Blood and Guts
In The Mood V
x3 Lynx APCs
Party Wagon II
Mystery Machine
Trogdor II[/I][/B]
"Thunderstorm" Armor Company[/B]
Vehicles:
x2 Tiger Command Walkers
Appetite for Destruction
Diver Down
x6 Wildcat Mark II Heavy Tanks
Speak Softly II
Divine Intervention
Rolling Thunder II
Apocalypse Now
Iron Side II
Heavy Machinery
De-Escalator
x6 Cougar Mark II Medium Tanks
Leonardo
Donatello
Michelangelo
Raphael
Shredder
Splinter
x7 Puma IFVs
Run and Gun
Live and Learn
Shades of Glory
Ride The Wind
Guns and Roses
Fire and Ice
Guns of Liberty
x3 Squads of Marines
"Tsunami"
"Twister"
"Volcano"
"Helldiver" Marines Company:
144 Fully Equipped Marines
Krayt" Artillery Platoon:
Equipment:
x6 Screaming Falcon Artillery Walker
Guns A Go Go
Sweet Child O Mine
Chrome Dome
Hutt Busters
Endor's Finest
Splash Zone
"Midnight Train" Support Platoon:
Equipment:
x2 GADS Roc Drop Ship
Mercy
Innocence
x2 Ziio LAATs
Thunderbird
Prettybird
Skycrane Transport Droid
x4 GASB Cheetah Scout Speeder
Barry
Wally
Bart
Jay

​

The first thing to go was Shredder. The Cougar was sandwiched between a turbolaser blow that took out it's shields, before the a massive howitzer shell vaporized it. Those shells rained down on the cougars, massive plums of dirt rising into the sky, knocking Ravens out and disabling shields abound. But Thunderstorm held.

"Shield Formation!" The Mon Calamari commander called out as the thunder of shatter rounds and laser fire pinged off his hull. Once more, the inherently linked systems of the entire unit allowed them to see through the sensors of other vehicles. Namely, the two Sphinxes that through AR technology, allowed them to see through the horrid mess of war.

Wildcats pulled back on both sides, Pumas behind them, only poking out to engage the advancing MBTs with rapid fire autocannons, firing ion bolts at 10 a second. Turret mounted chainlasers opened fire as well, and even the top mounted grenade launchers opened up with HE to allow the IFVs to try and quell the pincer movement. The Wildcats would hit back, repelling shells that would kill a lesser designed tank, even if it's shields were knocked out. Composite lasers opened up and fired on the left and right, hoping to disable the counter attack with prejudice.

Gress grumbled, watching the slow progress. Several of the other airlocks had already been breached, and yet...

This one held.

He watched as one of his Tiger Walkers detonated, the heavy howitzer round hitting it and shredding through it's shield. Then both his Bobcats, a turbolaser bolt catching them both with a flash of light, vaporizing them in an instant.

Loses were acceptable, but this was a meat grinder.

"Sir! Showstopper is down, they're pulling back to Midnight Train."

"All Thundercats, push forward! We can't let them encircle Thunderstorm. Focus fire on the heavy walkers, and hit them with another missile barrage!"

Another wave of CHOMP missiles opened up, while the heavy mass drivers of the Tigers opened up, firing ion rounds at the remaining walkers that weren't already fried. One by one, they'd be picked off. Thundercats engaged their beam cannons, aiming at forward tanks to blunt the spearhead.

The Wildcats of Firestorm pushed ahead, closing the gap between the two companies quickly to cut off the closing of the trap. Enemy tanks were engaged once more, composite Horn cannons opening up. The APCs behind the tanks would be hit with a barrage of grenades, each Wildcat opening up with a quad set of grenade launchers that would fire in an arc over the tanks, to try and shatter the hulls.

The Sphinxes became walking fortresses, slowly advancing behind the formation, as Hammer batteries opened up on the advancing tank formations with heavy firepower, while the Thunderer batteries awaited more specific targets.

"Sir, sensors are picking up hunter-killer teams on the roof."

Gress took a huff, speaking neutrally.

" Vulpesen , hit them with the thunder."

"...sir, we're getting reports from inside the city. It's some sort of fear bomb. All units are reporting total breakdown of command."

That caused the stoic commander to take pause. "How long?"

"30 seconds."

"All units! Brace! We've trained for this! Your fear is your enemy! Kill the enemy! Fight the Enemy! Win!"

Then it hit, and...

Gress could only feel the urge to order a full retreat. The urge, the overwhelming urge. No. He'd fight it. He took a longer drag than he had ever taken, and let out a puff. The men inside his cabin looked frantic. Everyone did. Tanks slowed their attack, and yet...

It was only for a second. He watched the armor hold. He watched the men hold. Fear could only make them scared. It couldn't change their circumstance. In war, you were always a bit scared. Always under the impression you could die in any moment. Always going in with the understanding of how brutal war was.

But the Hellstompers were undefeated. Gress was undefeated.

Today, he would stay that way. That was the plan. That was the order.

The 34th would hold.

[HellStomper Actual (@Gress D’ran) this is Omega Actual. My locator beacon is activated. Target my position. Danger Close.]

A call for fire, but...inside the city.

He needed to focus on his own men. Fear overtook him. Another drag, and another look at the map.

"Negative Omega, Fire Support is unavailable from the 34th. The 13th armor should be able to assist. Rerouting fire mission, godspeed."

It was all he could do. The armor company to the east had broken through, and should have some Tigers with mass drivers to assist. At least, that was the hope. Hope was running dry all over the front.

 

[Velda Nar-Donna]

WEARING: Black Cherry colored sith robes
WEAPONS: 2x Lightsabers and The Dark Side
ALLIES: Srina Talon | Gerwald Lechner
ENEMIES: Lt. Bren Alazar |

As she raised her weapon to strike, a distraction came—one that could be considered expected, and in other ways, unexpected.

And suddenly, for a moment, she stood there as the soldier began screaming about Gerwald at his compatriot, and then at the Sith Lord himself. To Velda, it felt like a tremor of minds breaking like glass underfoot.

And the shrouded woman found it all as perplexing as it was amusing.

The dodecahedron known as the Phobis Device was now churning, clawing away at the populace’s sanity. The seed of Fear within the unwashed and ignoble examples of this domed city had grown and blossomed into a beautiful Delirium that was only for the weak to wallow in.

Others more worthy of the Dark Side would use the bleak emotions to overcome and snap the chains that bound them.

Except that did not seem to be what she was witnessing before her. Velda was emotionally disciplined. Her fear remained hidden behind walls upon walls of mental barriers, behind mystery, fog, and sweet deceit that all but ensured her fears would never be unearthed.

Did these soldiers have a run-in with Gerwald in the past? She did not know. But she was trying to make sense of the scene, as futile as she knew the effort to be.

If they knew him as they seemed to, what did he do to them? As far as she could tell, he was standing there minding his own business. Velda herself was the first to draw blood from the squad, as far as she knew. And yet what followed was an absolute hail of ammunition toward Gerwald earlier.

Only now to be presented with a vainglorious diatribe about one of the soldier’s ancestry. And two of them began attacking Gerwald in hand-to-hand combat. A Lupo? What an act of valor, how pathetically romantic, how perfectly suicidal.

Velda had received his message through the Force as well. And she agreed. The fear stalking the streets of this city was the poisoned fruit of their war that they had brought to this planet themselves.

She would have preferred to watch the fight conclude. After all, most in this galaxy that are willing to fight a lupine in hand-to-hand combat are not long for the realm of the living. However, she was aware of the other men around her, even though she had not turned away from the fight before her. She had sensed it.

They had now gone prone.

Hostility toward her... their last mistake.​

As they lay down, she rose effortlessly into the air, her lightsaber a dancing streak of light as she deflected every shot aimed in her direction, each bolt ricocheting with elegant precision, sent hurtling back to its intended target.

Not necessarily to its origin, but all the bolts were sent to one of the soldiers who had the sniper rifle. She sought to rain down the bolts of plasma upon him.

As she continued to rise, her form ascended into a darkness that the backup lights could not reach. Her lightsaber was the only beacon of light to where she was.

Up there, from that vantage point, and close to the roof, she could see a lot on their level—even the aftermath of the charges the squad set off nearby and the carnage it left behind.

She saw a huge broken slab of duracrete, which weighed two and a half tons. Grey with black scorch marks left behind from the flames of the explosion.

With a subtle gesture of her hand, she called to the Force. A massive slab of duracrete—a remnant of their destructive charges—tore from its resting place, as though answering a mother’s call. The hulking mass, hovered like a beast pulled from the deep. And with nothing more than her whim, she flung it into the dark, a leviathan on a descent with furious speed toward one of her attackers—the one clutching the heavy weapon.

There would be little time for them to react because it was coming fast. It emerged from the blackness above. The Red emergency lights that radiated off of it symbolized death to the one Velda had targeted and sought to destroy.

As she began to descend downward, she deactivated her lightsaber, only to elegantly land softly in a crouch about fifteen feet away from her third victim. She slowly rose, pondering his death.

He had opened fire with the second sniper rifle, and Velda held out her hand as if she were absorbing the bolts. And she was, to a point, as he shot blaster bolt after blaster bolt only to find her hand. Transferring the energy across her body and into her other hand.

And then she unleashed it. Crimson tendrils of Force lightning leapt from her fingertips, arcing through the air with malevolent intent—not to torture, not to maim—but to reduce her enemy to ash upon its deathly touch.

​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Úlfs Reiði
ALLIES: Srina Talon | Darth Carnifex | Jarek Voss | Kaila Irons | Darth Ultramar | Darth Nefaron | Kasir Dorran | QK-2510 | Velda Nar-Donna | Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax
ENEMIES: Connel Vanagor | Lt. Bren Alazar | Gress D'ran | Jonyna Si | Varys Amun | Tarw Rhyfelwr | Vulpesen | Zaiya Ceti | Avery Vaaki

Deep called out to deep as the dark side of the force continued to wash over Echnos City. Gerwald could feel the pangs of rebirth. A Sith in the city shed the chains of their station and rose as the newest Darth of the Order. The wolf knew his name, and while it was yet unspoken, Gerwald preferred it. There were many who used the title to gain position, or lord it over those they deemed unworthy. He was happy this newest ascension was born of blood and battle. This would not be a title, but a new creation.

The wolf loathed the formality of title, but he also understood the need for them. It was why the public still knew him as Gerwald Lechner. There were few among the Sith which were more powerful than him. He simply held his skill close to his chest. The former Lord Commander had always been that way. There were times when he talked about his capability, but they were rare and often in moments of teaching. Gerwald believed those who had to inform others about how powerful they were, were not truly powerful.

Power spoke for itself.

It was why he scoffed when one of the soldiers mouthed off at him. If they needed the wolf to know they were not good people, the words were more for them than for Gerwald. It was if they needed to convince themselves they were not good. The wolf could see why. From his estimation, the unit was scattered, an instrument of chaos. It was not that they were bad, wicked, or corrupt, they were simply lacking. They had no direction. It was though they were simply tossed to and fro like waves in the ocean.

The brash request of the one they called Gabriel was proof of it. If the man wanted to die, it was easy to oblige.

A sickening grin tugged at the wolf’s maw as he lunged toward the man. The warm taste of iron was a satisfying sensation as teeth sank into skin. Pain radiated from Gerwald’s hip as the knife broke his skin. His armor protected the joint from severe damage, the kind which could immobilize him, but it still allowed the blade to pass. He jerked up to howl, flesh still hanging from his teeth. In the end, the pain mattered little as Gabriel was dead, and Gerwald still lived.

Another, Sariel, lunged at him, attempting to pin him down. Gerwald shifted back into his human form, causing the man to miss. The wolf gripped his hammer, Strømafbryder. Gerwald brought the face of the hammer down with all of his strength. He would attempt to crush the skull of his assailant. The wolf was not simply intending to kill, but rather he hoped the brutality of his actions would increase the fear of those witnessing the battle.

When he needed to be, Gerwald was a monster, a beast. It had been part of his nature all along, though he had not always embraced it. There was a time when he would have ignored it altogether. He had been accused of being more human than animal, but over time Gerwald realized he was neither one or the other, but both. Embracing the duality of his nature allowed him to become who he was.

His attention would turn to the commander of the unit.

It was then Gerwald began to feel what was taking place throughout the city. His mind had temporarily let go in order to face the immediate threat in front of him. His thoughts found Kasir Dorran once again. The young Sith seemed to be struggling, a sharp pain, a phantom sensation from Kasir, shocked the wolf momentarily.

<< “Gain your strength from our collective minds, >> the instructions came. << “Reach out and link your mind with ours.” >>

He opened his mind further. The young Sith would sense the minds of others. Velda Nar-Donna , Srina Talon , Darth Carnifex , @Kailia Irons, and Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax , were just some of the Sith which his mind would touch. They would continue the battle meditation. It protected them to a degree from the phobis device, and it allowed them to remain coordinated. They would strike as a unified weapon, a precise tool. Their enemies would fall.

It was then Gerwald began to sense it. Darkness, black, yet light surrounded him. He could feel the humid and damp atmosphere which was also dry and arid. The sound of steps much larger than his own echoed in his ear as the ground began to quake. Gerwald knew what it was. This was his nightmare. It was something which had not plagued him since the ring was destroyed and Naedira had been returned to him. Yet now, it chased him again.

The device, it had to be.

Gerwald tried to convince himself he was safe. There was no way he was being chased by shadow and smoke once again. It could not haunt him as long as his Empress controlled it. This was his demon. It was his greatest foe.

Spoiler: SUMMARY

1. Gerwald killed Gabriel (re previous post from Lt. Bren Alazar )
2. Gerwald dodges Suriel and attempt to crush his head with a battle hammer
3. Gerwald encourages Kasir Dorran to utilize the battle meditation.

 

[Judah Lesan]

Wearing: xxx
Allies: Connel Vanagor | Lt. Bren Alazar | Gress D'ran | Jonyna Si | Varys Amun | Tarw Rhyfelwr | Vulpesen | Zaiya Ceti | Avery Vaaki
Enemies:: Srina Talon

<< “GET OUT OF MY MIND!” >>

His thoughts would shout through the pathway Srina Talon had created between them. She would not not stop plaguing his mind. Even as she spoke, gave her rebuttal to his words, sermonized him once more, her grip on his mind tightened. It was rare that Judah met his match when it came to the battlefield of the mind. This Echani was as much his equal as any he met.

She was likely superior.

It was cruel, her use of his wife. The Sith Empress defiled the sacred memory of his bride. Katara had been the only pure thing in his life. No one had been able to keep him centered the way Red could. Judah had not just longed to be with her again, he craved the stability her presence often gave him. His life as a Jedi was once which sent him all over the galaxy. He never knew where one mission would take him over the next. The shadow had always known where his Red would be.

Katara was home.

Srina spoke of war, of Judah not understanding that everything around him was what it truly was. He knew more of war than the Echani would ever know. Judah had been part of the Army of Light. The Silver Jedi had been a fledgling order when he joined them as a Knight. They had been the ones to raise him to the rank of Master. It was then he had witnessed first hand the brutality of the Sith. He lived through the rise and fall of the One Sith. His son was an adult by the time the Sith Empire came to power. This Sith Order was no different than any of them.

How many times had the ebb and flow of the dark side created a flame of destruction that burned hot for a moment only to be extinguished later. Pain and suffering was all they left in their wake. It had never been enough from them to dominate the galaxy, but they had to destroy everything they touched only in an attempt to rebuild it in their own image and likeness.

“War? This is terrorism.”

She may have embodied brutality and finality, as her words pointedly claimed, but this was not war. Her actions were those of one which cared not for innocent life, if she even believed such a thing existed. Judah pressed into the attack on his mind. He could not let the Echani have the foothold she was looking for. The concussion which had been caused by being twice thrown made it difficult. His brain was a fog, and it weakened his mental blockades. She had found her way in easily.

Srina would not throw him again.

Her palm collided with his chest. Time slowed as Judah reached deep for just enough strength to raise a barrier. It would not be enough to prevent the force of her shockwave from pushing him back, but it would not do as she intended. The shadow had allowed it twice, but he would deny it this time.

A crack sounded as the energy burst. Judah could feel his chest searing in pain. Physics would not allow Judah immunity from absorbing the brunt of the attack. It may have been better to allow her the small victory, but her chosen battleground was his mind.

Judah fell to his knee as he clutched his chest. Several ribs were broken. He knew it. A healer could mend him later, but for now all the Jedi could do was use the force to control his pain. He had fought through pain before. Judah knew what it was like to fight with a broken body. The Sith had not dealt him anything which could not be overcome as long as he was stubborn enough to survive. He had tested her patience, yes, but he could not allow the lives of innocents to be used as fodder and fuel in a war machine bent on destruction.

“When you fall, know, that it wasn’t the dark side that destroyed you. It was you…As it has always been. You…and your own misguided faith, Jedi boy.”

His eyes went wide as he looked up to face the woman which had promised him his death. The name, his nickname, her pet name for him, came in the sound of her voice, from her lips. Judah froze for a moment, held captive by the illusion of his wife which allowed him the cruelists of hopes they would be reunited in this life rather than the next.

<< “GET OUT OF MY MIND!” >>

His mental shout was repeated again.

Judah closed his eyes and forced himself to remember where he was. This was not his wife. The clouds above him did not belong there. He was not at their cabin home in the foothills of Cornet Peak. His mission took him to Echnos City. Judah’s assignment had been to infiltrate and sabotage the Sith’s hold on the city without the loss of civilian life.

He had failed in that.

Tears fell from his face once more as he fought against the illusion. He wanted to be with Katara once more. If he could have her back, there would be no price he would not pay. Yet, he knew it would never be. His attachment to her was his greatest weakness, but it was also his greatest strength.

It did not matter where he was. She was with him. When darkness truly surrounded him, Katara had always been his guiding light. Even now, facing an opponent which he could not defeat, she was at his side. His eyes opened, her face still visible. The illusion still held its sway over his mind, but Judah knew the truth.

Katara was dead.

This was not her.

It could not be her.

Judah raised his saber to the red haired beauty. His emotions were still conflicted. How could he even be contemplating what his mind was thinking? What if this really was her? The Jedi could only tell himself if this was truly her, then he was dead as well. What he was about to do could not kill her if they had both perished. This was a cruel twist of the force, but they were dead.

The sapphire blade slashed across her body. He could only hope he was truly attacking the Echani.

“This is not real!”

 

[Dreidi Xeraic]

Equipment: Lightsaber, Nightsister Energy Bow
Tag: Kaila Irons

"You are only trapped if you allow yourself to be so." Dreidi stated calmly in the face of a burning ball of hatred and fear.

Sighing, Dreidi saw the second Lightsaber and tapping into her Magick, drawing a line in the air which burned with green flames. Intense fires burned so intensely that it seemed like the air was being melted and forged into a sword. The Ichor Sword of her family's legacy forming in front of her. It was the first time that Dreidi was summoning the sword to fight and use the power in combat. However, she felt the situation was calling for it. Once she summoned the sword, grabbing the hilt with her left hand, she was surprised how the sword was light in her hand and also not burning hot. Holding the blade in her left hand, Dreidi still held her Lightsaber in a reverse grip.

"You are afraid, you are not fear." Dreidi countered, "you are afraid of your master, you are afraid of rebelling against those who oppress you, against those who tortured you." There was a disdained look on Dreidi's face. She was seeing the cycle of abuse and insanity repeating before her and Dreidi hated that fact. She refused to stand down and there was too much she needed to do. She needed to end the phobis device.

Ahhhhh, now you are taking the self-righteous approach now. You think you are better than her since you aren't controlled by fear? Is it not fear that controls you, fear of the Jedi rejecting you? Fear of your true nature exposing the danger you are to those around you? The giggling Sith version of herself whispered darkly in response to Dreidi.

"Shut up!" Dreidi growled and as the fires were threaten to engulf her, the witch felt no concern, using Magick to control fires was the first power she learned. Bending the flames around her and the heat not damaging her skin either. Dreidi was using her frustrations and darker emotions to tap into the well of her Magick.

When the attacks came, Dreidi mixed Jar'Kai and Makashi, duelling and parrying the attacks. While she was not a combat master with her sword or Lightsaber, Dreidi was far stronger than her appearance would say and she was faster than a normal human. The Ichor sword was beneficial since it meant that she wasn't limited to a single blade to block the two attacks. Instead she had more options now.

Use your anger, use you fury and strike this Sith down. Make sure they know that you are far more power and focused on achieving far more than they are. You are not Dreidi Xeraic, you are meant to be Cyhyraeth. The Banshee. Show me your true power! Show me your true potential! Become Cyhyraeth! The hallucination screamed, deafening Dreidi as she attempted to focus on the duel.

"I will not give in. I am stronger than you." Dreidi growled loudly as she looked past the Sith to her hallucination, stating it to her dark self.

 

[Srina Talon]

Nearby Allies: [SO] Gerwald Lechner Kaila Irons Darth Carnifex Velda Nar-Donna Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax
Distant Allies: [SO] Jarek Voss Darth Ultramar Kasir Dorran Velda Nar-Donna Darth Nefaron QK-2510 Festerruman Sachiel
Enemies: [GA] Connel Vanagor Lt. Bren Alazar Gress D'ran Jonyna Si Varys Amun [ Tarw Rhyfelwr Vulpesen Judah Lesan Jenn Kryze Zaiya Ceti Avery Vaaki
Location: [Echnos City] - Governmental Residence/War Room/Makeshift Ritual Chamber
______________________________________________________

<< “GET OUT OF MY MIND!” >>

"Get out of my city."

The hissing retort was issued with the swiftness of a guillotine that spared none of his feelings. The Jedi was wrapped up in sentiment, emotion so thick, that it was almost eking from his pores. Was this what the New Jedi Order had begun to teach in the Core? A lack of control? The notion of being a slave to passion, to memory, rather than living in the present? The mental push back that she received was like a wave crashing against a bulwark made of damnable beskar. Judah would not move her, he would not break her, simply, because he wasn't strong enough.

Or perhaps he was too old—Too jaded.

Regardless the reason for his apparent inferiority…Srina would leave his mind when she good and well felt like it.

Not a moment before.

The shadows that sluiced around her form had settled into a shroud of something that would feel incredibly cold. It wasn't necessarily sinister, however, it did echo with a staggering sense of omnipotence. The presence of the phobis device made it stand out all the more, harsh, against the warmth that the path of Light offered. His mind, tangled in the painful illusion she had crafted, was thrashing, desperate to reclaim control. The memory of his wife was the perfect weapon. Sharp, deeply personal, and agonizing.

This man had…No control over his shame. No control over his losses.

Srina did not relish in the chaos she had wrought within him, her grip tightening, as she leaned into his mental torment, pushing deeper. There was no mercy in her. Only the glacial, calculating precision, of one who would do anything, to ensure the Order thrived. The Jedi would hear the voice of his one and only float through the air. See the frightened blue eyes of the woman he loved, past, present, and future. See the rich, vibrant, hue of red hair that was shaded like a sunset. See her chest rise and fall.

See her breathe.

"…Judah…?"

His wife asked, tones soft, and touched with a deep edge of confusion. The woman reached out for the husband she had left behind as if to comfort him. Even…While his blue saber sang down. It would slice through naught but air as Srina herself had side-stepped the blow. "Why?"

"Why didn't you help me then…? Why do you want to hurt me now?"

Judah was right.

It wasn't real—But the pain was and that was all that mattered.

Srina stepped forward slowly, her expression shifting from nothingness, to something that was almost pitying. Golden orbs remained distant and detached. This was not cruelty, not savored victory—It was simple necessity. He had taken her initial strike on the chin, as if, he was used to being a punching bag. But one illusion from his past was far more damaging. "Weak.", she whispered, gentle, but venomous, while a distant and remorseless cadence echoed in his mind.

"You still fight, Jedi, but for what?"

Her voice was devoid of malice, as if, they were speaking about something as trivial as strategy. Not the breaking of a man's spirit. "Your faith and love bind you to a past that no longer exists. Look around you. Take stock of those you have chosen to fight beside…Because no matter how you disavow, their works, belong to you. The shelling of airlocks that allow citizens to live and breathe are not an act of peace."

"The hellfire that you have rained from above, the use of explosives, are not a statement of amity. Neither is the storm that rages outside the Dome. It might soothe your morals to try and separate our methods of warfare but you and I both know—There would always be collateral damage."

"You knew that before setting foot on this moon. And yet…You still came. Knowing, the price."

His mental shout repeated, an order, for her to vacate his mindscape but she had no intention of doing that. He was desperate to separate them. Slipping through the notion of nations rising and falling, as if, it held some bearing on the here and now. Srina had likely forgotten more battle tactics than he had ever known, with war, and combat being a staple of her culture. It was an impossible concept for most civilized nations to grasp. They operated with a "standard" in mind that didn't exist for the Sith Order. It was just another example of the Alliance imposing it's will in worlds that didn't have the same ideals—To force conformity.

She stepped closer, her presence overwhelming, as the illusion of Katara flickered. Judah had allowed her in the moment he let grief and fear control him. His attachments had blinded him to the truth. He was no longer a warrior, but a relic of something that had been lost long ago, living, in a state of denial. His blade had cut through the memory, but it hadn't changed the outcome.

It never could.

The Jedi wasn't fighting her. He was fighting himself—And that, was a battle he had already lost.

"There is no victory for you here."

Her body flowed into motion like a coiled serpent. The illusion of his wife crumbled and they were thrust back into a cold reality, full of klaxons and alarms, that her opponent would need to face alone. Without his wife. Without the security of knowing, he was doing the right thing. With only the knowledge that the Dread Queen accepted his every barb, his every word, and was not ashamed to use every method at her disposal to dispel an enemy. If he had endured previous Empires…He would know that the phobis was a gentle, response.

Judah's saber, somehow, was still raised.

As if he had never actually physically finished swinging at the visage of his wife.

It had been all in his mind, a place, where she held dominion as easily as she did among a fear-driven and darkside polluted populace. He could not hide. Not, from her.

Her hand shot out and deflected the blue blade with a flick of her wrist, the sound filling the room with reverb, before Srina fully closed the distance between them. That same palm drew back and struck his forearm, with intent to numb it, so that she could push his weapon aside. Without pause, she followed up with a sharp kick to the side of his knee so he might buckle and stay off balance. There was no hesitation, no emotion.

In her eyes it was barely a fight at all…Merely, the systematic dismantling of an opponent.

______________________________________________________
Equipment: Robes | Saber | Ring | Ring | Phobis Device​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Kaila's strikes were erratic but stronger than any mere human should have been able. Her soft features belied bones replaced with solid metal, and the dark side's newfound iron grasp over the city fed her a strength of such potency that she had never felt before and may never feel again. It was frightening, it was... intoxicating. It was everything all at once, unnerving and overwhelming in it's haunting beauty.

Yet for all this strength violently pumping through her veins, The Jedi was equally fast.

She was doing something wrong, she could feel as much, but in her enraged state she could not determine what or why and that was as frustrating as it was unacceptable.

I shouldn't be this slow.

I can't be this slow!

What am I missing?!

"You are afraid, you are not fear." Dreidi countered, "you are afraid of your master, you are afraid of rebelling against those who oppress you, against those who tortured you."

"You would be too!"

She roared, slamming her lightsabers down in unison.

"You all think you're so much better! Just because you're so DROWNED in the force that you can longer FEEL!"

"Just​

Like​

HIM!"​

Ever word was proceeded by another swipe or jab as she fought to keep up with the Jedi, focusing on her own use of agile Jar'kai as it was clear that her heavier strikes would leave her defenses open if she didn't change her approach.

But by the force she hated how calm they were- and how calm Carnifex had always been- How it all seemed like a stupid game to all of them!

She was through playing it their way.

"I will not give in. I am stronger than you."

"No! I refuse to be let anyone hold that over me! Never again!"

Kaila nearly dropped to one knee as she suddenly ducked into one of the Jedi's blows, slamming her Cortosis Helmet towards the incoming lightsaber with a speed and force that could have broken bones or cracked skulls had she only tried. Instead she meant to short circuit the foe's lightsaber, while at the same time, she swept her blade at their leg while raising the other to defend herself from that ichor sword.

To prevent the Jedi from taking advantage of her ducking maneuver, Kaila deactivated the lightsaber she had just swept towards their leg, and instead summoned an invisible barrier just long enough to stand and leap back a few steps.

It was right around then that her senses were abruptly attuned to many others.

<< “Gain your strength from our collective minds, >> the instructions came. << “Reach out and link your mind with ours.” >>

What? Battle Meditation!

Frightened and desperate, she reached out and allowed her mind to be shared among the collective. It was the first time she had allowed her fellow sith to access her thoughts so thoroughly, for bitter fear of betrayal, but here and now was the time to break boundaries, to set all reason aside and know only war. Victory or Death, she could worry about the others later.

She shared with them her thoughts, her fiery rage that burned so bright that it was blinding, her potent fears too. But... something strange was happening. She felt not just rage from her allies, but also... focus. The thing she was missing. There were a few among their ranks- those strong few- whose rage was not a raw and unbridled chaos, rather it was honed like iron.

<<Yes,>>

"Yes...!"

Kaila shifted completely to defense, side stepping and backpaddling from blows as the realization struck, as the rage of sith more experienced than herself smoldered and then cooled into something for more potent.

She allowed them to hear the words which Darth Carnifex first spoke to her, speaking her own interpretation both whispered aloud and in a psychic declaration for all Sith to hear.

A Sith is not controlled by fear.

"I... am not fear... I am not it's hollow vessel to be filled..."​

​

fear is controlled by the Sith.

"I am Iron within... steely willed"​

​

Do not forget these words, apprentice, they will be your solace.

"My body tempered by war- I am Iron without!"​

Taking on the strength of those few strong enough to resist the maddening abys, and that of a thousand before her, Something almost akin to calm fell over her. The newly arisen Darth was still learning to walk, but now she had taken her first steps.

She took a deep breath, her barrier finding a newfound strength as it moved to create a dome all around her unlike the half sphere she used to conjure. With a twist that sent sparks flying, she connected the two lightsabers, unifying them as a singular weapon. Holding it in an outstretched hand and pressing an additional activation stud, The telescopic hilts extended until the Saber-Lance was as long as she was tall. Perhaps more so, once the energized blades reignited.

She exhaled slowly, breath turning to steam on the chill air as her eyes opened to stare down her foe once more behind that faceless mask.

"You are strong, Jedi"

The barrier abruptly collapsed

"But you are alone. I am not"


Dreidi Xeraic

 

[Dreidi Xeraic]

Equipment: Lightsaber, Nightsister Energy Bow
Tag: Kaila Irons

"Your fears blind you. I am not an unfeeling machine. And you are trapped because you wish to be trapped."

Dreidi just knew how to control her emotions and she spent time to ensure that outbursts were kept to a minimum and she did not aim to allow her actions be dictated by pure, raw emotions. She needed time to understand and comprehend everything. But this Sith did not wish to know that, they did not accept that there was nuance and nothing was a black and white in life.

Watching her opponent bashed their head into the helmet and watched as her Lightsaber short circuit and switch off. Cortosis. Fun. However, she wasn't dependent on her Lightsaber, the Ichor sword was more than capable in providing a solid defence that this Sith could just switch off. Jumping and flipping in the air, Dreidi maintained her balance and noted the barrier. It was puzzling since the barrier prevented the Sith from using the opportunity to exploit the advantage of having the two weapons over Dreidi's single blade.

Twirling her ichor sword, Dreidi could sense the conflicting battle meditations going on, both from Jedi and Sith. It was something that was common to see in wars, the technique is viewed as something that could turn the tide of a battle so much that ensuring both sides usually attempt to balance one another unless a battle meditator was under attack.

Tilting her head, the declaration was amusing. The Sith might have fought beside her once but clearly there was a lack of understanding, a lack of knowledge on the ways of training that Dreidi had. The barrier prevented attacks, only because Dreidi allowed it to do so. She could have teleported around it and continued her onslaught of attacks but the time allowed her Lightsaber to correct itself and reignite.

"I am far from alone." Dreidi stated, as she looked to the evil version of herself that the device created. An idea came to mind and she just hoped it would work.

Her eyes turned full opaque white. Her aura switched to her Dathomiri Magick in full, blocking the phobis device voice and hallucination as she felt the presence of her ancestors, of million of years of her family passing on this gift. When her eyes returned to their normal golden colour, she then disappeared into a puff of green smoke.

"You seem to think your Sith will support you, but they only seek to exploit you. To throw you away when you demonstrate inability to even handle a Dathomiri Witch." Dreidi's voice cackled from every direction, as if she was completely surrounding the Sith. She then reappeared and struck several blows to the Sith, slicing at the helmet with her sword and striking at the core with her Lightsaber. When she completed several movements, Dreidi then disappeared back into smoke.

Making it impossible to know where she was and when she would strike. All the while, she laughed in taunting to her opponent.

 

[Lt. Bren Alazar]

​

Galactic Alliance 305th Special Forces Unit - Codename "Omega Squad"​

​

You know those types you don't want to meet in a dark alley? ​

Yeah, we scare them.​

Weapons, and gear = Click picture in signature
[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]

Targets: [SO] Gerwald Lechner Velda Nar-Donna
Allies: [GA] ​

Location: [Echnos City] - Sewers underneath the Capital


Michael Gabriel Sariel Raphael Uriel “Raguel”
Remiel

It’s not the easiest thing to watch your brothers and/or sisters fall in battle, but you all know what you sign up for when you get into this game. That was the case especially for Special Forces. One by one, Remiel, Raguel, Gabriel, they fell.

Raphael was now reloaded with “Bertha” , the mini-gun that was a rotary slug thrower. The ammunition was finite, but he was wanting to watch that witch of a Sith block THIS especially now that his “sister” the woman to which he had designs on was engulfed in electrical energy.

Eat this, Witch! Hit me!

Sariel was facing the other Sith, the wolf… the man… whatever he was… he was ready to go down fighting like Gabriel. He still didn’t see it coming. The hammer swung at him, but his contortion proved to be a smart, and stupid move at the same time. His head was not compacted into a cube such as most who suffer that fate, but the hammer hit one of his 40mm impact grenades and set it off.

There was no way of telling what the explosion did to the Sith, not from Sariel, or Michael’s point of view. However Sariel lay there, back against the wall struggling for “one more breath” he would either die lying here waiting for one of them to take his life or he could fight.

He fought…

Sariel was crawling, knife in his teeth and blaster in hand. The blaster was empty and his legs were useless, it didn’t matter. He was still crawling towards this monster.

Where was Michael(Alazar) in all of this? He was setting up his last grenades, all chained to his last detonator. There was something here that they were protecting and it had to be taken out. The Hellstompers were bailing on him, probably the same with the 34th. That was not their fault, they had their orders, but he had his.

When either of them looked his way, they would see a man holding a rifle in one hand, and a remote in the other.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Echnos
| Objective | A deadly dance

The screams uttered by her warriors as they fought, bled, and died for her cause soon became indistinguishable from the cries of anguish carried from the baleful creature's cloak. Horrors past and present became as one, and through this nightmarish blend, fear pierced through warmth and armor alike. Could the day truly be won? Doubt filled her thoughts, even as the fateful contest of will continued between herself and her quarry. ​

​

How many souls had been lost to the Great Enemy? How much of her family had been consigned to an eternity of torment by the great destroyer of her people? Conscious as she was of the need to keep her focus on the task at hand, the morbid thoughts kept on assailing her mind, may it be because of the Phobis device, the inherent horror of the cloak itself - or perhaps these were merely excuses. Perhaps her mind was the only thing to blame. No weakness but her own.​

​

No hope, It promised her - and she could not help but believe the loathsome thing. Dawn may yet come, but what would it reveal? Scores of her kin, dead because of her foolish gamble? Her ideals had brought them all here, Mandalorians and Hastati alike, ever-loyal as they were. Ready to face the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of honor and duty...​

​

​

"VODE AN!"​

​

The cacophony of tormented wails was interrupted by a singular cry, not far from the three of them. ​

​

A lone Hastatus's voice rose over the maelstrom of battle, shaking his peers from the mind-shattering terror they were left in. His armor blackened by enemy fire, the young man stood tall, and proud; fear yet clawed at his mind, but he pressed on where others could not, waving the banner of Clan Kryze with his remaining arm, paying no heed to the mangled ruin the other had been turned into. Half-blind after the blade of a Kainite found its mark, he kept his head turned towards the uncaring sky, watching the cloth unfurl in defiance of those powers that existed far beyond his ken - creatures of dark legends, great devourers all!​

​

​

"VODE AN! VODE AN! VODE AN!"​

​

Young Ryk screamed out the words until his throat burned and his last good eye watered. By then, the mantra had spread throughout the lines, reinvigorating the beleaguered forces of the Kryz'alor; bloodied as they were, they soon met the Kainites with zeal of their own, meeting the demented fanatics with renewed strength.​

​

Jenn, however, could not pay heed long enough to relay orders of her own and assist them in doing so. The Dark Destroyer's cloak provided him with more than merely formidable defense, it seemed, but also a way to dissuade a shrewd foe from flanking him! Sucking in a lungful of air, the Alor only managed to avoid the flurry of blades with another quick burst of her jetpack, the Forgemistress in her filled with rage and sorrow alike at the sight of tal'beskar. The longer she spent in the presence of the Great Enemy, the greater her knowledge of the many desecrations of her people at his hands.​

​

Although Jonyna's quick-thinking deprived the loathsome lord of a deadly weapon, the truth of the matter fully sank in as she watched him all but summon a fresh one for him to wield; there would never be a shortage of tools for their foe to employ in the task of slaughtering them. When such a creature could shape a blade into existence, how were they to triumph over him? There were only so many whistling birds for her to use, so much fuel for her flamethrower, so many hits her beskad could take before he would inevitably break it-​

​

Therein lie the solution. Jonyna needed an opening, a way for her to strike true and fell the terrible beast - and she would never get it so long as he wielded such a devastating weapon, outdoing her own in all ways that mattered. And Jenn...​

​

Jenn would get her that chance. It was time for her to deactivate her shield once more, and for good this time. A strike from the Dark Destroyer would not be so easily blocked by it, at any rate, given the sheer power at his command, and so she was better served with a different approach altogether.​

​

With her beskad in one hand and her lightwhip in the other, Jenn abandoned herself to the most deadly dance of all. The Carnifex was fast, faster than she would ever have expected, and his great blade swung in wide, deadly arcs - and if it ever struck true, she doubted her ability to weather its vile energy. Relying on her fleet-footedness, the Mandalorian ducked, side-stepped and jumped in ever-greater displays of acrobatics, risking an elegant twist of her wrist to send her lightwhip in a deadly arc of her own whenever she could afford it; only by forcing him to take but the slightest moment to block or otherwise dodge her attacks could she hope to give Jonyna her opportunity. So too did the shorter blade of her beskad try and swipe at his ankles, his knees - anything to make him pivot his stance a little lower...​

​

| Friendly | Jonyna Si
| Hostile | Darth Carnifex ​

 

[Judah Lesan]

Wearing: xxx
Allies: Connel Vanagor | Lt. Bren Alazar | Gress D'ran | Jonyna Si | Varys Amun | Tarw Rhyfelwr | Vulpesen | Zaiya Ceti | Avery Vaaki
Enemies:: Srina Talon

Judah was a slave to his grief, not because he lived in the past, but because of recent losses which only punctuated the fact his wife was no longer by his side. The shadow had never accepted the modern phrasing of the Jedi Code. Experience was often a wise teacher, and too many Jedi held on to their emotion and passion. He watched as even those on the council had given into the more base and carnal feelings often associated with humanity. This did not make them wrong.

It made them human.

Judah Lesan was not perfect, and he knew it. He was far from it. Of all the Jedi he knew, Judah was deeply in touch with his humanity. His successes fueled him, and his failures consumed him. As was often the case with individuals, Judah was his worst critic, and he was harder on himself than any other had ever been or would be.

In this instance, it allowed the Sith to invade his mind. She weaponized the qualities which made Judah who he was. Srina Talon threatened to unravel the tapestry of his life’s experiences with a simple tug of an errant chord. Latching onto his strongest memory had left him susceptible to her attack, and Judah was too injured to fight it properly. His mind was foggy, but his recollection of Katara was clear.

Srina’s illusion was too accurate. Her reconstruction of the red haired Corellian had matched the very image he often recalled as he remembered her. Katara was young, it was how the Jedi liked to think of her. She wore the same outfit she had been wearing when they met. Her chest rose and fell every time she breathed in the exact way he intimately knew. His mind recalled every kiss, the way her lips felt against his, how they tasted.

The pain in her voice was deep. Her questions were sharp, the accusation behind them pierced his heart.

He did not want to hurt her, he had never wanted to hurt her. Perhaps it highlighted his foolishness. Loved ones hurt each other. It was not about the moment itself, but about the moments that followed. Judah had lost those moments. Katara had passed, robbing him of the chance to make it right. His absence had hurt her. Judah knew it, but his commitment to the Jedi had been as unwavering as the love he had for Katara. He would never love anyone the way he had loved her, which was how it was supposed to be. If he could, had it he truly loved her uniquely?

Judah wanted to argue with the empress. Could he truly justify his actions had a moral superiority to hers. Yes the Galactic Alliance had come to the city. They had been told the city needed liberating. Did it? The Echani inferred with her words it did not. Yet, the device she had set off suggested they had no issue with using the people of the city for their own designs. It was not a massive leap to see her logic, to understand it, or even agree with it.

Her cause.

Her reason.

But was she not assuming his reason and his cause?

“Guilty by association.”

It was not a question, but a statement which confirmed he understood everything she levied at him. He wanted to separate his reason for being from the actions and choices those outside the city had made. To a degree they were. Yet, they were also wholly connected. How easy it would be to be Sith where things were so absolute. This was the difference. Judah did not want to admit she was right any more than he had already. Now was not the time for that. He had committed to his course of action, and like the stubborn man he was, he was going to see it through.

In a moment, Judah saw her face once again, that of the Echani. She was close now, his blade still raised. A pale, bit forceful, palm struck the forearm of his saber hand. It was his prosthetic. Her hand would collide with the metal supported synthflesh which had torn during his collision with the glass table. His nerves would not register what her desired outcome was, though her speed would more than make up for that. Even as he slashed his blade in an attempt to strike her down she had already moved.

Judah fell to his knee, the one Srina kicked. It buckled under the pressure, though he used it to swing his other leg out as he spun. If he could sweep her legs out from under her they would both be on the ground, both be on equal footing. His body would react from years of training and conditioning. He did not need his mind for this, not in the same way he needed it for the mental combat Srina had engaged him in previously.

His saber followed his leg. If she was going to continue to press the attack, he needed to force her to react in the same way she had made him account for her strikes. Judah did not hope to throw her off guard, not when he was fighting more out of desperation than calculation. He needed his focus once more, but the Echani did not allow him the reprieve needed to collect it.

She was efficient.

 

[Srina Talon]

Nearby Allies: [SO] Gerwald Lechner Kaila Irons Darth Carnifex Velda Nar-Donna Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax
Distant Allies: [SO] Jarek Voss Darth Ultramar Kasir Dorran Velda Nar-Donna Darth Nefaron QK-2510 Festerruman Sachiel
Enemies: [GA] Connel Vanagor Lt. Bren Alazar Gress D'ran Jonyna Si Varys Amun Tarw Rhyfelwr Vulpesen Judah Lesan Jenn Kryze Zaiya Ceti Avery Vaaki
Location: [Echnos City] - Governmental Residence/War Room/Makeshift Ritual Chamber
______________________________________________________

The battle meditation that had been orchestrated would have been useful, especially, when she felt Gerwald Lechner reach out to try and add her to the bridge. She could not. The best she had managed since the relic had activated was telepathy and tapping the mind of one individual at a time. If she added herself to the loop, the pure, unfiltered feedback from the phobis might also become their burden. Her mind could bear the weight of it…But for the rest?

It was a distraction they did not need and could ill afford.

“Guilty by association.”

"Only you speak in terms of guilt, Jedi."

It was telling that he defaulted to the simplest explanation there could be, rather, than seeking the truth. If he was going to die at the heel of her boot, at the very least, Judah would know why. The breathless response she offered was followed up by what felt like a half-hearted attack from her opponent. Her hand throbbed from hitting his prosthetic but keen Echani eyes saw his weight shift moments before his leg swung out. Normally, she would have avoided such a clumsy attack without thinking. But the phobis…It didn't need her—But it still took from her while it gave. A physical toll in exchange for all the Darkside had to offer.

She was weakened, slow, by her standards…Even if Judah was injured and slower still.

The sweeping leg caught her left ankle and the wintry Dread Queen dropped to one knee. If it caused any pain at all, he wouldn't see it, even as his lightsaber followed the motion. It was an instinctual strike meant to catch her off guard but obviously telegraphed. She saw it coming. Her pale hand snapped forward to deflect the blade as she had done before. The telekinetic shield it ran along caused the blade to hiss as it hummed past her harmlessly.

Judah fought like a drowning man that had already given up hope.

Srina could see doubt filling his lungs like black water as he clung to ignorance. It was all he had. If the Jedi didn't make excuses for the actions of those he fought for he would have to accept that they too played a significant part in any loss of life. He was mistaken in believing that Srina held any sort of hatred or vendetta against the Galactic Alliance. They had merely made a choice. It was a decision that she could have made if the roles were reversed. If something seemed to pose an imminent threat? Would she not deal with it?

Of course, she would. So of course—They did.

The only miscalculation was expecting fairness and the etiquette of combat to exist on their terms. War was not fair. War would never be fair. It was a final full measure taken with the expectation of decimating the opposition, not, merely wounding. The Sith could not be defeated by gentle words or some misbegotten form of pacification. In the past few years, even, in the past few hours, she had seen the darkness that lived within the light.

"You shun the old ways, bending, for attachment and passion…But as a father, son, and husband…You have failed."

She punctuated the words with a targeted strike to his abdomen. The soft flesh of his belly held some measure of muscle, but it wasn't made of metal. The golden-eyed woman struck again, precision flawless, while she pressed him into a defensive stance. One could only take so many hits to the gut with pointed fingers finding cruel purchase between ribs before reacting. Anything, to make it stop. To give him a moment to breathe.

Judah's saber came up to ward off punishing strikes, blocking well, but Srina was just a touch faster. She spun on her knee like the wind, moving to her feet, while her leg kicked out the arm that was made of flesh and blood. The Echani slid past his defense, her lithe form coiling again, before she delivered another fierce kick to his already battered ribs. "Accept it. Know it. Feel it. You failed your wife in the past…And you've failed these people now."

Rather than let him fall away from her due to the impact of the kick, she leaned in, and grabbed the Jedi by both wrists. The Sith Empress was deceptively strong for one so small and pale fingers tightened around his synthetic limb. Judah would feel a sudden chill that went right to his heart while one of two rings on her fingers began to vibrate. Her ring, a gift, from Darth Empyrean began to glow faintly, and in an instant, frost began to spread from her touch. Ice formed quickly, creeping up the length of his prosthetic with merciless speed, the metal groaning under pressure.

"I release you, from that failure. I release you, from this pain, Judah Lesan."

No matter how he tried to pull away her grip was iron and the ice only tightened its hold with resistance. Eventually, she would see that the metallic limb was locked in a clear, cold casing, that would burn the edges of the flesh it was connected to. It stopped right at the joint. His blue lightsaber cast a shine that would have made the fractals beautiful…Were it not for the situation they were in. Were there not a device of terror screaming three feet away. "Be at ease, in the end. It was the wicked Sith Empress that corrupted your guileless innocence for her design. It was she who forced you to break. She who stole the final word from your lips—Who shut out the light and bound your soul. No part of you wanted to give in."

Her grip tightened further and the frost slipped into the intricate mechanics of the limb. Shadows dappled her vision, touching the edges, like the wings of a thousand crows. Her heart ran fast—But she was the Dread Master here. It would not consume her. She would not let it.

"I will shoulder that sin."

The metal creaked and strained while the cold grew colder and the ring began to sap her body of warmth. As many tools of the Sith—It was a double-edged sword. When Srina exhaled there was fog in the air before her voice rushed in, a whisper in the Force, and she found every weak spot in his prosthetic arm. The intersecting lines showed her where to strike and she let go of his opposite wrist...Only to form a fist and slam it down on the metallic limb.

It shattered.​

The sound was sharp and immediate, a sudden, and explosive crack that echoed through the room. The metal shattered like fragile glass, fragments bursting outward, in a cascade of icy splinters. Gears and wires snapped free, flinging frozen pieces across the floor. There was something larger amongst the debris but she paid it little mind. As his lightsaber fell the blue light went out.

As all lights, went out.

"I will carry it all…Every drop of blood. Every death, every horror."

Srina let go of what remained.

______________________________________________________
Equipment: Robes | Saber | Ring | Ring | Phobis Device​

 

[Judah Lesan]

Wearing: xxx
Allies: Connel Vanagor | Lt. Bren Alazar | Gress D'ran | Jonyna Si | Varys Amun | Tarw Rhyfelwr | Vulpesen | Zaiya Ceti | Avery Vaaki
Enemies: Srina Talon

Judah did reduce her words to the most basic of sentiments, because it was the point of what she was saying. Even if she was not saying he was guilty she was saying he was responsible. The only reason she could say what she had is because he was there. Her logic made sense to Judah because he understood her perspective. It did not mean Judah agreed with her, but it did mean he could not see any flaws in it. What did it matter if a Jedi killing a Sith led to this moment? It still happened, in the same way other moments came together to bring this exact moment about.

Her husband had died.

His wife had died.

Those two events bound them in a way others could not understand in the same Judah understood Valery because of her loss.

Judah found himself in a position to understand them both and see that neither was any more right or wrong than the other. He was not refusing to label blame because he was a coward, but because he could see the truth for what it was. Still, he fought. Srina had been correct. His choices brought him to this outcome, and the remaining actions which would follow.

Had Judah shunned the old ways? Perhaps. Had he embraced his passion and emotions rather than reject them. Yes. One was incomplete without them. His drive to be a Jedi did not come from them. Many times his attachments had given him strength. Were it not for the fear the phobis device pulled from him, the fact he would continue to fail, that his son, his grandson, would fall victim next, Srina would not have had control over his mind. Judah had walked into her trap. He was the fly caught in her web, and the more he struggled the stronger her hold.

The pain in his gut nearly made him breathless. Her strikes both prodded the wounds he had already sustained to that region and created new ones equally. With each impact Judah could feel himself weakening. Srina was systematically picking him apart, and he knew it. There was not much he could do to combat her speed. His wounds were too severe, and while he could tap into the force, he had used much of it to keep himself from feeling the pain as sharply as he would without its aid.

It was not enough that Judah had helped her with the device, now the empress made him suffer. She could have killed him, ended him quickly, but instead she took from him everything she needed to keep the machine strong.

His light was fading.

Judah could feel it.

Had he failed? This time he had. Srina punctuated her words with each strike. The pain was not just to tear him apart physically, but to destroy him mentally and emotionally as well. It worked, for now. Her hands held him with a strength which seemed unnatural for one her size. Judah knew that looks were often deceptive, especially with the force.

A chill ran up his arm, both arms. It should have been something he could combat. Judah was a master of elemental skill, but this was different. Whatever this was, it was enhanced. Whatever the source of the added strength, Judah could not push the cold back from where it came. The metal in his arm began to groan and squeal. Flesh began to burn as the frostbite set in. Part of him did not want to believe what was about to happen, but it seemed her intent was clear, and the prosthetic shouted the inevitable with a snap.

As though his arm were a twig it snapped from where it had been attached, and shattered like glass. A loud cry would have escaped Judah's mouth as it opened if his vocal chords were not frozen from the shock of what just happened. He watched as the pieces of ice covered metal scattered about the room, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of it. Srina’s musing had been correct. Under any other circumstance the glow of his blue blade would have cast beautiful fractals on the wall, but they boasted of something horrific instead.

Once again, Judah Lesan was missing his arm.

It was dark.

Judah heard the sound of his lightsaber hilt hitting the marble floor. It echoed on his ears as he tried to discern where it had landed. The shoto which had been in his prosthetic was lost among the debris, but it had fallen somewhere as well. He retreated within himself. The Empress of the Sith Order had promised him death now. It was what she meant by release, and he knew it.

“Not yet Judah… You’re not dying yet, Jedi boy.”

It was the same phrase he heard every time he wished for death to come. Judah wanted to be reunited with Katara. It had been the one thing he wished for more and more as he grew older. The galaxy did not need him as much as others insisted it did. Judah was but one soul, one beacon, in a sea of many. Yet, how could he join his wife if she kept encouraging him to live. Maybe it was his own way of finding the will to live. Maybe it truly was his wife. Judah did not care to distinguish between the two. He just knew one fundamental truth. Katara was the source of everything good he held onto in this life.

She was his light.

Judah focused on it. It was a small flicker, a candle which was about to be snuffed out. All of his strength surrounded it. He did not care about the pain. Whatever he endured would be worth preserving the remaining din of light that refused to die. He fed it, feuling it until it grew within. It warmed him, though his body still bore the damage of Srina’s ice. Judah could feel it swell like the crescendo of a great symphony.

“Not yet.”

His defiance was weak, his voice barely returned. It was strained, his words fighting through the pain. Judah extended his arm and with it he produced a flash of light. It would take most of what he had left, but he was drained. It would not be strong enough to cause the damage it could, or break what Judah knew it was capable of. All the Jedi needed was time, a few more moments to escape her cold grasp.

He was stubborn, even to the end.

Judah Lesan refused to die.

 

[Srina Talon]

Nearby Allies: [SO] Gerwald Lechner Kaila Irons Darth Carnifex Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax
Distant Allies: [SO] Jarek Voss Darth Ultramar Kasir Dorran Velda Nar-Donna Darth Nefaron QK-2510 Festerruman Sachiel
Enemies: [GA] Connel Vanagor Lt. Bren Alazar Gress D'ran Jonyna Si Varys Amun Tarw Rhyfelwr Vulpesen Judah Lesan Jenn Kryze Zaiya Ceti Avery Vaaki
Location: [Echnos City] - Governmental Residence/War Room/Makeshift Ritual Chamber
______________________________________________________

He clung to ghosts.

She was bound to no such illusion.

The proclamation of rebelliousness toward her rather generous offer was accepted with a sigh. Her eyes lowered to the body that had stumbled away from her, head shaking, while she reached behind her back to take hold of the saber that was sheathed in a harness along the base of her spine. The wintry woman could feel something welling up from within him, charged with hopeful defiance, but it was far too late for all that. One last ditch, frantic effort.

Her body moved without thought.

Judah raised his hand—And Srina blocked him from the phobis device. It had been his primary target since walking into the chamber and it didn't take a scholar to figure out he would use the last of his strength to try and atone. The surge of Force Light ramped up and her eyes closed against the sudden glare. It hit her like a wave of searing heat that burned and eroded her connection to the Darkside. It unraveled her focus and the phobis device behind her thrummed into a deafening silence.

She couldn't hear it anymore.​

The Light tore through the shadows she kept close, and momentarily, made her feel as if she were lost at sea. Her vision blurred, and her body, saturated in the dark, screamed in protest while a sharp and blinding pain coursed through her. It felt as if the purity of his light was filling her veins with fire in an effort to burn away the corruption she called home. It hurt.

Far more than she had expected.

The device at her back flickered, its power faltering for the span of a heartbeat, before it began to take in the agonizing disorientation that gripped her. It pulled negativity through her as if she were a filter that collected the impurities. Leaving it with a steady stream of perfectly distilled fear that it drank down, greedily, like water disappearing in a drought. Srina staggered, nearly falling, as the radiant energy chipped away at her armor. She bit her lip while her skin felt as if it might actually curl away…Even if there was no real physical damage being done.

Srina would not give the enemy the satisfaction of hearing her scream.

The chamber darkened, shadows and light, warring for dominance, and for the first time in decades, she felt her iron-clad control start to slip. But…This barrage of brightness and false hope would eventually end. Judah…Judah didn't have the strength in the first place, let alone, enough left to neutralize her once beaten. No matter what he wished for.

No matter how the encouraging voice of his dead wife rang in his head—Like a man insane.

Srina breathed in stutteringly. Pain. So much…Agony. But pain was a cruel lesson that she had learned to endure long ago. "Is this all you have for me?", she questioned, detached, while she fought through the disorientation. It was a struggle for a moment to even want to open her eyes when the brightness threatened to etch itself into her retina. It was enough to leave her without sight even though her eyes were closed. Temporarily, paralyzed, while steam rose from her body and the ends of braided white hair seemed singed. "Is pain what you offer?"

"Pain binds us, Jedi. It defines us. Do you believe your memories strengthen you? Do you believe that your light will save any of you?"

She could feel the pulse of light weakening as the attack faltered. It was too weak, too late. Judah was running out of time, and so, was her patience.

Gathering herself, Srina inhaled sharply, and focused on the cold within her. She was aware of her surroundings but her arms spread wide from her sides to allow tendrils of the darkside to seep back into her, filling the void, that the light had torn open. The air around her grew colder while the first inklings of fear began to return, oppressive, with the chaos outside acting as a restorative. She pulled the darkness inward with deliberate intent and the shadows that had fled to the corners of the room returned to her. Her eyes flashed like molten gold when she opened them. Straightening, her expression unreadable.

A dark orb formed between her hands while she drew them together. It flickered and that frustrated her more than anything else. The Force had always been there. It was always something that she could reach for, easily, and it answered. The small woman was used to being obeyed without question. Still. She was no mere acolyte that would be taken out of a fight by one weak burst of Force Light from a soon-to-be dead man. The sphere in her grasp swirled with what appeared to be pure shadow, full, of howling faces and fear. It sang with dangerous energy, growing with in intensity, while she fed it her pain, her loss, and her iron will.

The creation expanded, the surface alive, with swirling chaos. It absorbed the ambient light from the room until it felt like the walls themselves were closing in. She glanced down to see Judah still on the floor. It had been the gamble of a desperate man, more than that, it was as she had initially surmised…He was not strong enough. Srina watched him for a long moment, her pale, exhausted features a mask of emptiness. There was no anger, no triumph—Just quiet acceptance.

"You are already lost."

Her whisper was chilling in its finality. Delicate hands, with raw and bloody palms, caressed the orb before pushing it down toward the struggling Jedi. The impact was instantaneous. It would slam into Judah with a force that felt like a collapsing star, burying him, beneath its weight. The floor buckled beneath him and shattered as he was driven down—one floor, then two, then three. The sound of duracrete cracking and metal twisting echoed up from the hole while she crushed the body of the Jedi down, down, as far as he could go.

Until she could sense him no more.

______________________________________________________
Equipment: Robes | Saber | Ring | Ring | Phobis Device​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Something changed about the Jedi, she could see it in her eyes. She could feel that something was off, and yet... familiar.

Then she saw it. Smoke. Green smoke. The Jedi- no- The Witch vanished right before her eyes, and as Kaila reached out through the force, it felt as if she were being surrounded.

"You seem to think your Sith will support you, but they only seek to exploit you. To throw you away when you demonstrate inability to even handle a Dathomiri Witch."

"Fear is not a Jedi weapon," Her eyes would dart from side to side behind her mask, reacting quickly to any sound, any movement.

"How did a witch like you end up at the temple? One close call and you already sound like a Si-"

Her precognition triggered nanoseconds before the witch suddenly appeared, delivering two blows in rapid succession. Kaila parried the lightsaber away from her mid section using the phrik lance shaft to simply push it aside, the natural connection between it's kyber crystal and the force making it easier to detect once the witch emerged. But the sword, the sword had struck true. The heavier blade caught the brim just above her visor, turning her head and cracking her brittle cortosis helm across the brow which knocked the mask loose as the helm fell aside in two pieces.

Dreidi would at last see the face of her circumstantial comrade on Brendok. The golden eyes which had burnt so passionately in defense of the witches there, the ones that had nearly burst and bled as she summoned all her strength to summon Adeline Noctua , the fledgling goddess whom she pulled from the shadows in ritual.

That face contorted in pain as her mental ward was torn asunder, gritting her teeth as the accursed Phobis device sunk it's claws in just a little deeper than before. Where it not for Gerwald Lechner reaching out to extend the battle meditation, Kaila might have broken for a second time. But that did not mean she was without cracks.

<<She's right you know. They'll betray you soon enough>> It was as if a thousand voices whispered all at once...

"Stop it..."

<<Xyrah already has>>

"Stop it!"

<<By marrying your master>>

"You're not even real!" She hissed through grit teeth "I bound you! I chained you!"

The malevolent spirit's voice was not real. She knew it because she was a Force Walker. She learned it from Darth Varynx who had traded it to her for secrets from the Kainite vaults. Kaila had worked tirelessly even behind her master's back to ensure that she would come out of this on top one day. She would find a way to escape his grasp, even she had to unlock the secrets of a thousand ghosts to do it, even if she had defeat death itself, that is why she was still Sith!

She just needed someone to remind her. Someone to give her the clarity she so desperately needed, but with the Phobis toying with her mind, with the anger and hatred of other sith being injected into her veins via the battle meditation, And with the Witch playing with her fears, Kaila was hopelessly lost, and Anathemous would keep her locked away until she was needed again.

This was no time to be that weak little girl.

She needed to draw on every strength she had. No matter how horrid.

"Parasideus," Kaila took a defensive stance, pointing her saber-lance as if it were a feudal spear, one blade in front of herself, the other behind

"Give me the real you."

Kaila's own shadow birthed a faceless visage that began floating upward from the ground, a dark side spirit whose empty hood was now watching her back, A violet glow emanating from both pairs of eyes as she took command over the ancient sith lord through a force walk.

When Kaila said she was not alone, she was being quite literal.

With their combined senses and eyesight, it didn't matter what angle the witch approached from, they would find her. Dreidi was fast and she was strong, but Kaila had done something that few Sith ever could; She had mastered defense. Her way of fighting was developed over years fighting Carnifex, learning quickly that a strong defense and a long reach were the only ways to survive the dark tower's onslaught.

She trained to fight a God. She could defend herself from a Witch.


Dreidi Xeraic Gerwald Lechner Srina Talon Darth Carnifex

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

Echnos City
Assisting GADF in Airlock Six
Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x
Allies: GADF Forces
Neutral: Teresa Zambrano | Darth Pellax
Enemies: Kasir Dorran

-

Everything changed within the span of an instant.

Zaiya went from snarky banter with the Sith to a sudden drop in her stomach. The Lovalla Padawan's heart pounded as the sinister tendrils of the Phobis device clawed at her mind, wrapping around her thoughts with a suffocating grip. Fear slithered through her veins, cold and invasive, sinking its claws deep. She stumbled backward, her breath hitching as the oppressive darkness of the device weighed down on her, warping her senses.

Iridescent blue eyes widen in fear, mottled spots glowing a pale yellow and silver hue as her skin dulled an even paler Durindfire crystal grey, the luminance of her now crystalline sparkling skin almost blinding. She even felt even more sick and nauseated, the edges of her markings highlighted a lime green against the inky dark. Her hands began to fret, fingers interlocking and then wringing in front of her. Emotions were spilling out in a water fall of anxiety.

"What are you doing? Stop!" she yelled, her voice breaking with desperation as she watched him lash out at innocent civilians. He moved like a specter of rage, his actions wild and unrestrained. The kyber crystal woven into her hair shone with a fierce, blinding light, but even its warmth couldn't pierce the cold void of fear that surrounded her. It was as if the light was swallowed whole, leaving her in a shadow that pulsed with terror and distorted visions.

Her skin shifted to a deep, stormy gray, mottled with frantic streaks of pale yellow, broadcasting her alarm. Fight or flight roared within her, clashing violently, a maelstrom of instinct and training. She wanted to help, to pull the Sith back from whatever edge he was teetering on, but the air was thick with the echoes of screams and the distant thuds of concussive blasts. Had she'd enough sense, she would have recognized the Valkyrie flying over head -- but she was too confused. The ground trembled under her feet, each vibration dragging her deeper into a memory she couldn't escape -- back to Commenor, back to when she was nine and the orbital attacks reduced buildings to rubble and ash -- back then that her anxious, worried parents shoved the little girl into the reinforced nest enclosure to keep her safe. Back to when the sudden rumble and concussion of a blast had all of a sudden cut them off from Zaiya, killed in the debris, feeling the sudden, horrifying, and desolate stillness of no longer being able to resonate with them.

"This isn't real. This isn't real," Zaiya chanted under her breath, her voice trembling as she tried to anchor herself. But the past and present blurred together, each explosion feeling too tangible, too immediate. She could almost taste the dust and hear the cries of her family, lost in the chaos. Her skin flickered through hues of pale, sickly yellow, and gray, the fear radiating out of her like a beacon.

The Sith's voice snapped her back. He was yelling, his eyes wild with hate, his words laced with paranoia and fury. Zaiya's heart sank, her breath catching as she saw the deadly intent in his gaze. She reached out, but fear twisted around her hand, pulling it back.

“You’re just waiting to set me up, aren’t you?”

His accusation cut through the air like a blade, his voice thick with anger and something deeper -- something broken. He scanned her, eyes searching, then fixed on her commlink.

“Give me that commlink,”

He demanded, but before she could react, he was clutching his head, his own demons tearing at him.

The suffocating force of his hatred and fear pressed down on her, making it hard to think, to move. She backed away, her skin darkening with fearful swirls of inky black and glowing silver. She had to do something, anything, but the panic was like a storm, drowning out her thoughts.

“I should’ve just killed you.”

The Sith's words echoed -- cold and final. The weight of his statement hit her like a physical blow. She flinched, eyes wide, desperately searching for a trace of the man that had agreed to a tentative alliance beneath the rage. But he was already turning away, heading further into the chaos of the city, each step a reminder of how far they'd fallen.

Zaiya's chest tightened as the sounds of the distant airstrikes grew louder, blending into the screams of Commenor in her mind. She had to fight it, to pull herself back from the edge, but the line between fear and reality was blurring, and she wasn't sure where one ended and the other began. All she knew was the crushing weight of the Phobis device, and the helpless feeling of watching the Sith slip further away.

"Please... don't... don't go," Zaiya choked out toward the Sith, her voice barely a whisper as tears blurred her vision. She forced herself forward, her breath hitching with every step, her body trembling under the suffocating wave of terror. In that moment, she felt utterly, achingly alone.

"Aris," she whispered, a name half-lost on her lips, a plea swallowed by the chaos. She reached out in her mind, desperately clinging to the thought of the one person who promised he'd always be there. But Aris Noble wasn't here. He couldn't be. He was out there, somewhere, with his own responsibilities, his own battles. This was what he meant, right? That as Jedi, they would be pulled apart, each to their own duties, each to help others at the cost of being together.

Oh. That's why he didn't want me to bond with him.

The realization struck her like a physical blow, the oppressive weight of understanding sinking deep into her bones. No matter what Aris had said, no matter his assurances, she would always be alone. That thought was a jagged, bitter pill to swallow. A hollow laugh bubbled up, breaking through her ragged breaths, as crystal tears carved down her cheeks.

How desperate can I get? she thought, reaching out to the Sith despite everything, trying to help someone who just said he should have killed her. Someone who, even now, might still do it. It was pathetic, really -- this need to connect, to reach out, even if it was to someone who'd would readily cut her down.

Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was the call of the Force. Zaiya wasn't sure anymore. But she took another stumbling step forward, determined to do something, anything. She made her way to the civilians the Sith had kicked down, her hands shaking as she tried to focus, summoning the Force to heal. They weren't severely injured, but she could ease their pain. She could do this much.

But as soon as her hands hovered over the first victim, they recoiled, eyes wild with terror, lashing out at her with a frenzied shove. Zaiya staggered back, her heart sinking as their cries rose in a crazed chorus. The Phobis device had twisted their minds, warping their perception until her glowing, color-shifting appearance became a nightmare born of their darkest fears.

Zaiya was no longer a padawan trying to help. She was a monster in their eyes -- a blinding creature of the dark, and now, she was their target to take down.