Skirmish A Monument to All Your Achievements | THR vs TSC | Jakku Enclave

[Seris Velmora]

Tag: Nova Dainlei | Xan Deesa

The deeper Seris Velmora walked into the buried enclave, the less she liked what she was doing. "Stupid archives..." she muttered beneath her breath, crimson eyes sweeping over alcoves filled with shelves instead of enemies. "Stupid relics..."

The Sith Covenant had given their orders plainly enough. Recover what could be recovered. Empty the vaults before the Jedi—or whatever safeguard the enclave possessed—destroyed everything. It was a sensible objective.

She hated it.

The clone's boots crunched over fractured stone as another distant impact rippled through the ancient sanctuary. Dust sifted from the ceiling, coating polished floors that had likely not seen violence in generations. Around her rested ancient texts, crystalline containers, ceremonial objects, and artifacts whose purpose she could not even begin to guess.

How was she supposed to know what mattered? A weathered holocron looked no different than an expensive paperweight to her. Scrolls were scrolls. Statues were statues. Somewhere among all of this clutter were treasures the Covenant desired...and just as much worthless junk.

Seris clicked her tongue in annoyance. "I'm built to kill people," she grumbled, kicking aside a broken piece of masonry. "Not organize someone's collection."

Her hands rested comfortably near the twin lightsabers hanging from her hips. They were where they belonged. Every instinct begged her to abandon the scavenging and simply find whoever was trying to stop them. Someone else could decide which dusty box held centuries of forgotten wisdom.

The Force tugged. Not toward an object. Toward life. A smile slowly spread across her face. "There you are." She drifted silently toward the presence, following instinct rather than corridors. Every step seemed lighter than the last as purpose returned. The archive opened before her into long aisles of towering shelves lined with relics and records. Through gaps between the shelves she caught movement—a young Jedi sorting through texts while another woman worked at nearby terminals, assisted by a small droid.

Finally. People. Seris leaned casually against the end of one shelf, making no effort to hide herself now that she'd found what she'd been searching for. One finger tapped impatiently against the hilt of a lightsaber while an amused grin crossed her face.

"I've been wandering this maze trying to decide what was worth stealing." She glanced lazily around the archive before looking back to the pair. "Turns out the answer was easy."

Her smile widened, predatory and eager. "You two." Twin crimson blades snapped to life with their familiar hiss, bathing the shelves in scarlet light.

Her gaze flicked past them, taking in the texts they were gathering, the terminals they were working to preserve. "...or better yet," she added, amusement creeping into her voice, "I'll just take whatever it is you're trying so hard to save."

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Jakku - Jakku Enclave

Equipment:
Vanguard Robes | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

Ace's eyes lingered on Arris for another moment. Her hands remained clear of the weapons at her hips, but he wasn't naïve enough to lower his guard.​

​

Behind her, another artillery walker lumbered into position, its massive frame groaning beneath the desert heat as crews continued preparing the siege. Crimson bolts streaked overhead toward the Enclave while, further across the valley, another evacuation shuttle clawed desperately for altitude beneath the Covenant's anti-air barrage.​

​

His attention returned to her. "You know why, Arris."​

​

Whether she was being intentionally obtuse or whether she truly didn't understand wasn't for him to say. Either way, he knew she was intelligent enough to reach the answer herself.​

​

Then Isobel's voice pressed quietly against his thoughts once more. His eyes drifted toward hers and a slow, weary breath escaped through his nose.​

​

When Isobel shifted the sand, Ace raised his forearm across his face as the dune erupted toward him, countless grains driven through the air in a blinding wave. Before it could engulf him completely, the Force surged outward from his free hand, scattering the curtain of sand away in every direction.​

​

The golden blade was already descending and his lightsaber snapped upward almost on instinct, blue met gold with a sharp crack that echoed across the dunes.​

​

Then he caught the crimson glow in the corner of his vision. Without hesitation, Ace twisted his wrist and shoved against Isobel's primary blade aiming to knock her lightsaber off line to create the opening he needed. His own blade dropped immediately, intercepting the shoto before it could find his right side.​

​

As the blades struck together, Ace used the brief bind and shifted his footing to step backward across the sand, creating several more feet of separation between them.​

​

<<This really what it's come to, Flowers?>> His voice carried only within her mind. <<You'll follow "destiny" so blindly you're willing to off your friends?>>​

​

The desert wind swept between them, and for the briefest moment, Ace's gaze searched through the lingering haze for Arris.​

​

"I really don't want to do this..."​

​

The words were spoken aloud, meant for them both, though his eyes remained fixed on the silhouette of the cyborg standing beyond the drifting sand.​

​

Arris Windrun | Isobel Serraris​

 

[Arris Windrun]

Isobel Serraris | Acier Moonbound
Down & Out
​

She couldn't believe Isobel. One moment, she was so audacious that Arris couldn't quite recall the last time an acolyte had been so bold as to dirty a Triumvir like that... maybe when Varin struck at Mercy aboard the Siegemother. Or maybe when Ace broke into her lair on Nar Shaddaa. So the 'as you command' seemed like raw banthashit to her ears coming at the next.

Arris wheezed quietly under the intense heat - Jakku's star now took its place directly above them, a golden-white crown over the desolate sands. Her eyes settled on Acier, and never left. Only narrowing tight under the ridge of her coolant-wet brow.

He insisted that she knew why; was he stupid?

There was a shift in the acolyte's demeanor, and within a moment the young woman charged at her former apprentice, throwing up a blanket of sand to obfuscate her opening move. Good. Arris thought. That was a good move. Smart. Dirty. It was exactly the kind of fighting spirit she had hoped to instill on Thrantin.

But Windrun's approval wasn't enough to wash the anger from her mind, as she continued to pull apart Acier's reply. What he said after only made her angrier. Her metal hand balled into a frustrated fist.

Her voice carried over the hissing strikes. "You don't want to do this? But you're here, Ace! Just like you were on Tapani. Chandrila. Coruscant." Her cybernetic heart was slamming against her chestwall, fueled only by the Dark Side, sheer will to push it along, as it continued to overheat and break down. "I told you from the beginning, Ace. You could have left anytime you wanted..."

"Have you thought how easy it is to leave?" She turned her gaze back to the courtyard and the field of idle ships deeper in the valley.

"...You don't want to do this?" She repeated. "Everywhere you are, with that blade in hand... You chose to be there."

Isobel was probably a more clever fighter than Ace. The Talusian knew him to be a bit blunt, aggressive. Not a meathead like Mortifer was, but she imagined he wasn't any less arrogant than the day he left the Covenant. Hell, given that he decided to go right back to fighting, he was probably more arrogant since then. Still, he had risen to Knighthood. Even if he didn't fight to kill, she reckoned he had the advantage.

The technopath reached out with a mere impulse. She knew his arm well, and had left a kernel of her own darkness in it during their clash on Coruscant. Her mind found it, and quickly nourished it with the Force, so that it might sprout and consume his beskar arm. Either he would experience an excruciating feedback of nervous pain; the servos and wires destroying themselves until it was rendered a useless decoration, or he would have to spend a great deal fighting her influence, at the same time staving off Isobel's attacks.

Tough luck, kid. But the flicker of doubt in her soul questioned: Or was it tough love?

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Meliant​

Dust drifted from the ceiling as Lorn navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the lower levels. The rhythmic pulse of his wrist chrono guided him deeper, its coordinates locking onto the chamber where the artifact was stored. Muffled thuds of artillery above vibrated through the rock, accompanied by the frantic echoes of fleeing survivors. Sudden footsteps scrambled ahead. A group of panicked padawans barreled around a sharp turn, nearly knocking him off his feet. They rushed past without a word, eyes wide with terror, too consumed by flight to register his presence.

A suffocating coldness settled into the air the moment the children disappeared. The Force bled with a sudden, agonizing wave of dread and despair radiating from the chamber just ahead. Approaching the threshold with quiet caution, Lorn rounded the corner and stopped.

Ruin filled the room. A Master lay in three pieces on the floor, her body discarded like trash. Standing over the slaughter was a figure clad in gold armor, casually tossing aside the soiled parchment.

"You in a rush?" Lorn asked, the hilt of his lightsaber sliding smoothly into his right hand.

Memory flickered back to well-meaning Jedi who had once cautioned him that his crusade was unjust because he would not offer salvation to these wicked beings. Seeing the golden monster smirk over the dismembered remains of a peacemaker made that warning feel absurd. There would be no peaceful resolutions here. This creature deserved only the cold embrace of death, and the light would flourish without this monster in the galaxy.

 

[Kaelyr]

Tags: Kadeon Virell

⚙​

Upon my arrival, Yggdrakses had been alive in my mind's eye, telling me about the feeling he felt. Something of his rested here, within the vaults of Jakku. It was the only reason why I agreed to come: any artifacts or relics that could help in restoring the cosmic fire god to its full power would be of great use, and better in my hands than in those of filthy Jedi. Granted that I had only claimed and absorbed two of thirteen of Yggdrakses' fragmented soul, it didnt know what exactly was being kept here. Spreading my awareness through the Force, I could see the many lives clashing here, each one a bright blue{jedi} or blazing orange{sith}, but deep beneath it all was an even brighter light, one that was radiant with dark side power and was definitely something tied to Yggdrakses.

Wasting no time, I rushed my way through the defensive line of the Jedi, incinerating all in waves of cosmic flame, cutting down others, or crushing vital organs with the Force. Once through the threshold of the vault, I quickly darted towards the source of Yggdrakses' resonance. There were many rooms and many areas that held vital information and items of both the SIth & the Jedi, but none of that mattered. "Scorch them all, turn these vermin to ash, reclaim what is rightly ours!!!!!" the dark entity encouraged, its excitement rising the further I went.

"You need not worry, all who dare to stop me will perish." I assured, as two vault guards came around the corner. I would not waste my time fighting them off and filling the hallway with cosmic flames. They diverted the flames away from them, but it was only a smokescreen as I came rushing through, decapitating on then pinning the other to the wall through their neck. Not waiting for the body to hit the ground, I continued on.

⚙​

---

"Kaelyr Speech"

 

[Xan Deesa]

JAKKU | JEDI ENCLAVE
ALLIES: THR | Nova Dainlei
ENEMIES: TSC | Seris Velmora
ENGAGING: Seris Velmora
GEAR: In bio

MANALAN MAILLA​

Xan glanced over to Nova with a roll of her eyes, silently worrying about having paired up with a sentimental padawan. There was no time for reminiscing or fond memories, they were on the clock. Xan scanned the room for a moment to mark and note the various items they would need to sort through.

Nova offered his droid to assist and suggested they grab a hovercart. ”That’ll take too long.” She commented, pulling a wire from her wrist to stick it into a nearby terminal. Her eyes flickered as her engram entered the system to sort, compress and extract whatever data she could find. ”I’m grabbing all the digital data available… physical is going to be an issue. Let’s round it all up and see what we can do.” She continued, focused on the terminal in front of her.

Using her body as a proxy, extracting the data would go incredibly quickly. The problem would be uploading it all to one of her secure servers, but that could happen passively.

”I can scan the physical copies. Make digital files and save them, we don’t need the books themselves… what artifacts are…?” She asked him, though she fell silent when another party passed one of the security sensors. She turned to look at the approaching Sith.

Crimson light fought against the pleasant ambiance as the Sith unleashed her blades. The extraction was complete, her hand withdrew the cable to let it zip back into her arm while technicolour eyes watched the Sith’s every move. ”Nova… keep working.” She muttered with a cold determination. She stepped away from the terminal to face the Sith, eyes flickering red with combat data and reports on her enemy.

Her hands remained open by her sides while she slowly closed distance. Finally she moved, flicking a fist up while her knuckles sprung open to launch a volley of tracking projectiles at the Sith. Force users were never her specialty, it had been decades since she crossed paths with one in a fight.

She liked her chances.

The world slowed around her for a beat, her implants activating to propel her with inhuman speed toward the Sith while her arms split open to unleash her blades for a strike at the Sith’s defenses. She might not have the Force, but her chrome could cover that base easily enough.

 

[Lily Rhodes]

Vess Sadragen Aiden Porte​

Lily stayed still as Vess’s hand found her shoulder, steadying herself and for a moment, they weren’t standing behind the lines of a battle as Lily’s eyes took a second to take in every detail of her face, like she hadn’t already committed it to memory. Then her hazel eyes opened and looked around them and the moment passed, the noise of the fight already rising around them.

“Yeah…” she agreed softly, taking a breath and moving her eyes towards the temple marking their path towards it, mentally marking their path before looking back at Vess and giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey,” she said softly, pulling Vess's attention back to her, her thumb running a soft line across the back of her hand. “You just do what you do best, okay? This is just another job. Imps, Mandos, Jedi. Doesn’t matter. I’ve got you covered.”

If Lily could spare her, if cutting off her own arm and feeding it to the wolves would keep Vess safe? She would do it a hundred times over.

Her eyes shifted once to the Jedi line before, her expression hardened into determination and she turned towards the temple.

“Come on, before they realise we’re here.”

 

[Mercy]

MERCY

EMPRESS | WARLORD | STAR-ARM

Location: Jakku | Objective: Talk | Tags: Lysander von Ascania Corazona von Ascania Sophelia Ardemark Zaiya Ceti​

.

Lysander surprised her so often, it should no longer be a surprise.

He had surprised her back on Nar Shaddaa, when he had the will to not just kill Fatine von Ascania 's assailant, but make him suffer too. The punishment ought to fit the crime. And oh, Lysander had delivered so sweetly. From there on out, the young man had been a constant source of delight for Mercy.

All the way to Coruscant where she had found him among the shattered and broken bodies of his victims.

She had knighted him there and then.

Still, Mercy knew that the draw of family was a difficult one. Perhaps the most difficult one, when your blood was actually kindred to you and loved you fully. The greatest challenge, but because of it also the most meaningful one. Could you cast aside even that last vestige of your old self in the pursuit of ambition and desire?

The Sith's answer was spat like a curse.

"Corazona."

Mercy's brows furrowed as she considered his words. Another surprise delivered without fanfare.

But was Lysander ready for that? More importantly, did it truly matter if he was? Was this really something that her surrogate son had to go through when he was already so effective and so committed to the goals of the Covenant?

Contrary to many Lords of the Sith Mercy did not seek to test her apprentices day and night. She did not wish for their torment or their hurt. She wished for their ambition to be homegrown and fed solely by their own desires. That meant that her vat was shallow. She did not go through as many candidates as Arris Windrun did.

But it also meant the ones that succeeded, succeeded well.

Mercy tried not to think of Vestra's murder. She had been doing so well until then.

"You have nothing to prove, Lysander." Mercy finally said as she watched him run through a Jedi. Her own blade, forged out of her hand, lashed out. Intercepting an onslaught meant for her apprentice. Her strength powered through it with ease, needing not more than a flick to throw them back into the distance, where they flattened against the walls of the Enclave.

"Not to the Covenant, not to me, least of all to yourself." Her hand moved to settle on his shoulder before Lys could continue. A light squeeze was offered.

"I can handle Corazona, you need not to carry this burden."

"It is never easy to break with your family, Lysander." Mercy said quietly as she finally spoke, the silence stretched towards the uncomfortable to anyone who wasn't a contemplative mountain. "But when they hold us back, we must." We. Another hint that Mercy was more than she ever showed to those around her.

"It will not be as easy as this, my boy. There will temptation, if you think otherwise you lie to yourself. There will be moments where you feel weak. Where you will stumble." Mercy leaned in there, the fires in her skull practically exerting heat. "Remember in those moments... you are not alone. You are furthest from weak. And I will never punish you for your doubts. Come to me, at any time, if you feel you need my support."

"You are not alone." Mercy echoed those words she had spoken to him on Coruscant, all that time ago.

.

ERASE THE PAST

 

[Naniti]

Naniti affixed a white mask that covered the lower half of her face as she moved forth. Not to conceal her identity. To focus the attention on her blue eyes and the predatory intent within them. It said more than the red blade that ignite and was swept upward so the blade lined up between her eyes and nearly turned her skin black bathed in the glow.

Young Jedi were at a disadvantage before Sith. They were taught to fight. To stand their ground. To not be intimidated by their enemy even if they were a Sith and enveloped in darkness. All good lessons for their students. Good instructions. And like all best laid plans, subject to failing first contact with the enemy.

The Togruta surged forward. Her saber struck with bloodlust no Jedi could manifest. She moved as a possessed soul committed to annihilation and destruction of those unworthy. They had their polished training, which enabled them to survive, but even a mild numerical advantage would do little good as she exchanged blows between multiple opponents nearly faster than they could react. They expected to fight a well-reasoned, well-disciplined opponent because their Masters were. But Naniti only sought to swat them aside and contain them in the slaughter ground of their own choosing.

Naniti went still for a single second, saber locked with one Jedi, her foot just feed of the face of another. Her eyes were bright and pierced the air as they looked back to where Mercy seemed to counsel Lysander. When that solitary moment of examination passed, the Torguta righted herself, flipped the blade around to knock the Jedi's own into the air, and then planted her foot between their legs. Their Master doubtfully ever taught them a Dark Sider fought dirty, especially when riled.

With a grunt, her eyes turned toward the refuge of the Jedi before them. Naniti took off toward it without warning.

Lysander von Ascania | Mercy
Corazona von Ascania | Sophelia Ardemark | Zaiya Ceti

 

[Katsumi Royal]

Tag: Riya Pashen​

"Captain Royal, this is Iron Fang. Nice work with that opening act. Just tell us where you need us and we'll kick these Sith bastards right in the ass."

Seeing that report would be of more import, she steadies the top turret to slide back down into the tank. Giving her crew a nod to keep blasting whatever they saw that carried Sith colours.

"Hearing you loud and clear, Ironfang. Your orders are simple, turn anything daring to bear Covenant colour and reduce it into a gas."

Her own tank would launch a newly loaded set of cluster missiles into the enemy line once again, fire and shrapnel raining.

"While I would love to stay and fight to the last round, we all have an important duty. The Jedi in this enclave have numerous non combatants, by all means send as many Sith to hell as you can along the way... However your primary objective is to secure them and get them on the transports."

Not every fleeing ship was to make it out... The Sith saw to that earlier, hopefully her gift of broken systems and charred bodies was a fair enough trade, even if she wanted to take more.

"Light guard and guide the republic."

The radio cuts as the transmission ends, Royal's tank starting to make a rush over to the enclave.


​

 

[Chernobog]

Directive 2: Empty The Vaults / Directive 2: Take Their Things - Rik Perris

Cherno quietly moving down a side corridor that sloped away from the main rooms as she had no desire to get caught in a chaotic, loud fight with young Jedi wielding lightsabers. It wasn't about her ability; she could easily take down a young Jedi with little effort. It was more about her sense of dignity.

Killing children barely trained enough to defend themselves was a task unworthy of her programming. Her sensors had detected no significant threats in this section of the facility, which suited her perfectly. The Dark Lords could occupy themselves with the entrances while she pursued something of actual value, relics, classified information, and perhaps enough profit to exchange the slums of Coruscant for the high spires of Aargau.

The distant sounds of collapsing bulkheads and clashing plasma blades followed her deeper into the corridor. The Covenant was looting the facility with all the restraint of starving animals, but Cherno saw no reason to interrupt their primitive excitement. Who was she to point out that setting fire to an outpost was such an uninspired, 850 ABY approach to warfare?

If they wanted to play ravenous conquerors, they were welcome to choke on the toxic smoke. Her visual overlay flickered as a blue-and-green thermal map spread across her vision, drawing her attention to a reinforced archway farther down the hall. No heat signatures waited behind it but she kept her hands on her holsters in case her sensors had missed something.
​

 

[Isobel Serraris]

A MONUMENT TO ALL YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS
Y O U ‎ ‎ ‎ S H A L L ‎ ‎ ‎ N O T ‎ ‎ ‎ P A S S​

LOCATION — Jakku, Jedi Enclave
TAGS — Arris Windrun Acier Moonbound
PARAPHERNALIA — Vesper et Aurora, Armour of the Lost

Destiny, the vile toxin of his word coaxed her blood into a boil, as though it were some triviality. . . as though the fates did not bind this galaxy together. As though the will of Ashla Bogan did not dictate who shall be cherished with triumph and who shall be plagued by defeat. He did not understand. He could not understand!

A despondent huff slipped past the lips, flooded by the rains of tragedy and feigned amusement, whilst her coiffed mane veered left and right. Her sight grew blurred by the taint of sorrow, in spite of all her efforts to blink it away. Why could he not see that this was a matter of the fates.. of the divine. And that she was naught more than a faithful following the wisdom of the Holy.

The clash between blades perished as soon as it began as the space between Acier and Isobel grew once more, as she became a silent witness to the interaction between the master and her former pupil. The histories between the pair was akin to an ink splotch upon a canvas, obscured, unknown, though a wisdom pierced through the haze, realising that there was a lot more than what was spoken aloud. But her being no longer answered to her heart's desire; it could not break, could not soothe, could not become the remedy she so desperately wished to offer. She could only grit her teeth and seethe within the ruin of her own making.

<<You speak as though I have a 'want' in the matter. Do not dare accuse me of wanting to kill you--of wanting to kill ANYONE!>> The flames within rose ever higher as the fumes commanded her forward again, the vestiges of her huff shaping in a saddened laugh as the rhythmic shake of the head never quite ceased. <<I am but a vessel through which visions flow, through which they gain. . . truth. My choice was to embrace that, to understand that sacrifices have to be made sometimes. And if Bogan demands your death, then I shall not commit a folly by denying His will. Whether I want it or no.>>

Her left arm rose, as the crimson blade pointed right at the Jedi's chest. "Your want was declared the moment you set foot on Jakku. The moment you rushed to meet," A low 'tssk' slipped past the lips, as the shoto aimed at Arris: "Her. And me. Had you kept your head low--had you stayed away, this could have all been avoided, Rogue." Her gaze shifted momentarily toward the cyborg 'ally', as the Force rustled under some foreign spell, crawling around their foe's mechanic arm. . . It felt familiar, like. . . on Coruscant. Whatever it would do, Windrun best not seek to challenge her now.

The distance between the Jedi and Sith narrowed once more, as both blades moved at once to strike diagonally, before following up with numerous slashes from left to right. There was no rhythm in their strikes, no cohesion binding one to the other, it was the pure, raw desire to silence whatever resistance came from the Jedi. . . whatever deceit would be dragged into her mind and devour her with this tormenting doubt.

The sands beneath their boots began to rumble once more, toiling under the lack of control, before at last giving way beneath the duelling pair. Isobel lost her footing, seeking to shift back and forth before inevitably sinking with the collapsing mound, one hand took hold of Ace's arm and dragged him down the dune. Along the slope, she lost her grip on her hilts, the lightsabers landing in the heap of sands and vanishing before her eyes.

Kriff.

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAGS: Varin Mortifer
​

The thundering of artillery.

That's what she felt the most. That's what brought her back into the mindset she had discarded in the days of the GA.

That's what brought her back to the headspace of a rebel.

She moved faster than the naked eye could track. She moved faster than a shell could concuss her. She wasn't the Firestarter anymore. Nor the Eye of the Storm.

She was a comet. A lightning bolt.

A Wildfire.

In only a second, she leapt onto the top of a sith walker, slicing into the cockpit and killing the driver, before unloading into the console with her blaster pistol. She didn't feel the same empathy for these folks that she did anyone else in the galaxy. These weren't people, they were monsters.

And her cathar traditions told her what came next.

That's why the inferno spread through the rest of the walker. Cooking the systems and bringing the machine down.

And yet, those old heroic instincts couldn't help but shine through.

The moment her comms beeped with that SOS, she moved. Moved like the wind in a hurricane.

And before The Black Blade could make contact on that poor soul, the White Blade met it.

In that tense moment, Varin could see it. The fire in her eyes. Pupils burning with determined fury. And yet...

She was smirking.

"You're that little punk I fought on that space station, right? How ya doin' buddy?"

 

[Romi Jade]

---
JAKKU JEDI ENCLAVE
Central Chamber
​

"Stay back Lossa..." she twisted her neck, but stood her ground. She could see the length of her hand orbiting her saber.

What will she decide...

She had the briefest episodic flash, dating back to when Lossa had come all this planet, at this very location, amongst its ruins, when she had officially become her student. Romi hadn't the gist then that she knew where to go or the plethora of choices she could make. Though among all of her students, Lossa knew her the most...

She watched her grow, and played a role in her fall. She'd bear that burden.

Fighting her in this state, under these conditions...it didn't make sense. There was much still to come of this moment...she could see the glimpses of it down the road.

Then --

"Lossa..." The greeting faltered as every instinct she possessed came alive at once. Her gaze swept the room automatically, taking in faces before details. Lossa first. Alive. Then Romi. Her posture alone was enough to make the hairs rise across the back of her neck. She was alert. Ready. Something here was off. "...Rik and Briana sent me."

The explanation sounded almost too small against the atmosphere hanging over the room.

"Master Jade?" Concern softened the edge in her voice without dulling its caution. "Are you okay?"

She said nothing, and used the arrival of Bastila Sal-Soren to throw her hand, twisting it as she clawed through the air -- two cables above them snapped, and the lanterns illuminating the passage between them came crashing down in a crash of sparks -- suddenly the room got darker.

But this was only a mere distraction at best, nothing was holding the tension back now. She just sought to buy herself a spare couple of seconds. This battle wasn't being won this day.

"It's time to leave." She barked at Bastila

Lossa Aureus | Briana Sal-Soren

---​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Jakku - Jakku Enclave

Equipment:
Vanguard Robes | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

Ace's eyes flicked between Arris and Isobel, the space between them growing thinner with every passing second.

"Spare me, Arris." His voice cut cleanly across the battlefield. "I don't wanna hear anything from you after the shit you tried on Corellia."

He wasn't here for another lecture or some attempt at manipulation from her, and he definitely wasn't about to justify himself either. This wasn't about proving he was right anymore. It was about taking responsibility for the damage he'd helped cause and doing whatever he could to stop it from getting worse.

Then he felt it. The familiar touch slid across the Force like cold steel. The first pulse of agony surged through the nerves connected to his prosthetic, a searing feedback crawling beneath the beskar plating. He recognized the technique immediately.

Without so much as turning his head, Ace swung his right arm sharply toward the cyborg. A dense wall of sand erupted from the dune, racing across the battlefield toward Arris in a violent wave. It wasn't meant to bury her or cause serious harm. He'd watched coolant spill freely from her seams since she'd arrived. If nothing else, the abrasive torrent might clog exposed joints, force her to shield herself, or simply break her concentration for a moment.

A moment was all he needed. The Enclave was already counting down toward self-destruction. Every second Arris and Isobel spent occupied here was another second the evacuation continued beyond the siege line.

Inside his mind, Isobel's words only deepened the frustration tightening in his chest. He'd told himself the same lies once. Different words, but the same excuse.

<<Don't give me that "vessel" banthashit. Take some fucking accountability!>> His thoughts struck back with uncommon sharpness. <<I don't want to fight you. Either of you. But I'm owning up to my shit and doing what I can to fix it. Maybe you can keep your head low and avoid responsibility, but I'm done with that.>>

Isobel's blades carved toward him again, but the measured precision of her opening exchange had vanished beneath raw emotion. Ace met each strike as it came, his lightsaber turning one blade aside before rolling seamlessly into the next defense. Sparks scattered between them as he gave ground, boots carving furrows through the unstable dune while each parry became another retreat.

When the sand shifted, Ace felt the slope collapse beneath his feet and immediately coiled to leap clear, but he was a fraction too late. Isobel's hand caught his prosthetic forearm, and the ground vanished beneath them.

The pair tumbled down the collapsing dune in a storm of sand. Ace hit hard, rolled several meters away, and came to a stop on one knee. His lightsaber was still clenched in his left hand, though the blade had extinguished somewhere during the fall.

He looked up. "Isobel, stop this. Please."

The words hung between them as he hesitated.

"I know how it feels..." His voice softened. "Thinking destiny... the Force... whatever the fuck controls your life. Your future. You..."

Arris Windrun | Isobel Serraris​

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x |
Interacting with:

Corazona von Ascania

Sophelia Ardemark
Blondie Lothcat:

Lysander von Ascania | Ms. BrickHouse :

Mercy | Foodie :

Naniti

The quick hug was immediate as Zaiya nearly bounced into Cora before wrapping her in a warm squeeze, bracelets jingling merrily, then just as quickly beamed at the other blonde.

"Hello, Soph! Sorry we don't have time to enjoy some tea." It was all she managed before something tugged at the edge of her senses. The empath's smile seemed to soften bittersweetly just as Cora mentioned her brother -- Lysander.

The last time she had seen the blonde was after she'd secretly wandered into the Sith Holy Worlds, entirely convinced Lysander had been kidnapped and sentenced to an eternity as the short-order cook at a greasy Sith Academy burger stand. Looking back... there had been maybeee one or two... or several... tiny leaps in logic.

They had escaped strange, Force-icky creatures, shared burgers afterward, and somewhere between fries and explaining why he was there, she'd promised that if he couldn't hold onto hope anymore...she would simply carry it for him.

How wonderfully strange that the Force had decided this was where she'd find him again. She knew it, it was the galaxy working its magic to shake some sense into him.

"It is the will of the Force." The Lovalla replied, her attention returning to the present with remarkable speed, a shimmer of color and bioluminescence touching her rosy-golden skin over her mottled spots.

"I've scattered a few surprises," she explained brightly, holding up a little pouch of seeds. "Mostly Kshyy vines. They're much better at hugging than they look."

A glance toward Cora was enough. The Knight who had first taught her that plants could be allies didn't need the rest explained.

"So I can distract them," she offered. "And we'll follow your lead." It was then that Soph's calm washed over Zaiya, smoothing away the little ripples of worry fluttering through her chest. Zaiya's face brightened.

Oh! So Soph was skilled in this? A dancing ripple of delight in bright blues resonated in that buff.

"Ooo... that's lovely. Thank you." Without another thought, she slipped two cuffs from her wrists and pressed them into Soph's hands.

"Emergency jewelry!" she announced cheerfully. "Black pearls are EMPs. White ones stun. Pop one off, throw it, count to five... then try not to still be standing where you threw it."

A faint wink followed as she said with sudden seriousness. "...I learned that one the exciting way when they got pushed back into me!"

The distant rush of footsteps drew her attention, and she looked up just as a purple Togrutat ( Naniti ) came racing into view.

"We-ell," she said with a crooked little grin, "I suppose that's the universe's way of saying our briefing is over."

She pulled her hood back with a flick, the multitude of bright shiny bracelets chiming as the Lovalla Jedi Knight settled into motion.

"May the Force be with you."

Then with all the determination of someone running toward trouble because someone else shouldn't have to, the colorful Lovalla Knight hurried off to intercept the approaching Naniti .

 

[Arris Windrun]

Isobel Serraris | Acier Moonbound
Down & Out
​

Tried?

Arris blanked for a moment; her connection to his arm almost wavering; tried. Her hand tightened into a fist so hard that a coolant valve snapped in her wrist, causing the dark green-blue liquid to spurt onto the sand. The technopath's connection doubled down on the Beskar arm.

Tried?!

A telekinetic wave carried a rush of sand towards her, crashing into Arris with all the force of a tidal wave. She recoiled - the grains of dust disturbing her senses. If that didn't cause her connection to break, then it happened as soon as Acier and Isobel tumbled down the dune beneath the latter's volatility, their lightsaber clashing cut short by the fall.

The cyborg wiped sand from her eyes and stumbled towards the edge, looking down. "What I tried?!" She screamed back down.

Loud, earth-quaking thumping caught up with them as the artillery walker appeared in view behind her, locking its feet along the rocky ridge that cut through the dune.

Arris summoned the Force in her legs and leapt upward, flipping down and landing on her feet at a distance from where Ace and Iso collected themselves.

She continued screaming. "What do you know?! What do you know about me?! Huh, Ace??? Huh, man!?!?!"

The implant which regulated Windrun's pain quietly died amidst the intense emotions and building heat. Which meant a physical wave of searing pain broke through the numbing dam, flooding her nervous system and her soul.

But in the torture of chronic pain, she felt it. The emotional distress. The aching grief and overwhelming helplessness of her situation.

"Fuck you, man! I tried everything." Her grief spilt out in the Force, latching onto anything in range. Whether that was Ace, Isobel, or--

As the walker bent on its back legs, preparing a firing arc for the Enclave, something happened; it buckled and its main gun bent down, as if yanked by a taut tether. The barrel pointed where the two duelists stood - red hot plasma building like the parting lid of an all-seeing eye.

"You're such a... Such a..." Then Arris just screamed. And screamed. She grabbed her head and screamed until it became piercing and unnatural.

The building bolt of plasma in the walker turned black for a moment, filled with her unchecked hatred, before the whole damn machine erupted in fire. The panicked crew tried to scramble out the shattering viewports as white-hot flames consumed them. It was too late for them to escape - the walker exploded, leaving a smouldering wreck above the legs as it collapsed. The main gun flew up and spun over the battlefield, before landing somewhere in the distance.

Arris fell to her knees. "I hate myself! I hate the Jedi!! I hate Mercy!!! I hate everything!!!! Everyone!!!!! This whole damn galaxy can burn and die!!!!!!"

Coolant ran down her eyes. The closest thing to tears she'd ever have. Her grief, her pain, her suffering, the loss she felt for Rox, the self-shame for Kirie and Nilira, the guilt for her irredeemable acts, the gut-wrenching emotions she felt when she and Acier spoke on Corellia, it all poured out of her. She had no control of it, but the Dark Side did, and it would do everything it could to find purchase on their minds - flooding them, too.

"Isobel..." Her voice was eerily calm, a definitive contrast against her screaming just seconds ago. "End this."

 

[Lossa Aureus]

Armored Robes
Jakku - Central Chambers​

"Stay back Lossa..." she twisted her neck, but stood her ground. She could see the length of her hand orbiting her saber.

What will she decide...

The joints of her hand cracked as Lossa sneared. "You taught me to not be a coward, Master. To face my fears head-on. Directly. Or be overcome by them. Why do you hesitate?"

Her whole form appeared to gather and grow with her words before the door opened. The boring glare of her eyes sliding to the arrival of a familiar face. One that had sworn off returning to this place. Only to break that personal promise it seemed. The gathering of her form halted for a short time at the absurdity of Bastila's ariival.

"Lossa..." The greeting faltered as every instinct she possessed came alive at once. Her gaze swept the room automatically, taking in faces before details. Lossa first. Alive. Then Romi. Her posture alone was enough to make the hairs rise across the back of her neck. She was alert. Ready. Something here was off. "...Rik and Briana sent me."

The explanation sounded almost too small against the atmosphere hanging over the room.

"A foolish choice to send you in their place." The lightsaber detached itself and snapped to her hand. "You should not have come here."

Her other hand slid behind her back, drawing a small cylinder from its place on her belt. I barely filled her palm with a top and bottom section of silver housings separated by a midsection of dull, matte black wiring. The top twisted with her index finger and thumb before being pressed against her thigh. A small click let her know that the mechanism had worked before tossing the device aside having served its purpose.

"Master Jade?" Concern softened the edge in her voice without dulling its caution. "Are you okay?"

She said nothing, and used the arrival of Bastila Sal-Soren to throw her hand, twisting it as she clawed through the air -- two cables above them snapped, and the lanterns illuminating the passage between them came crashing down in a crash of sparks -- suddenly the room got darker.

But this was only a mere distraction at best, nothing was holding the tension back now. She just sought to buy herself a spare couple of seconds. This battle wasn't being won this day.

"It's time to leave." She barked at Bastila.

The room was now shrouded in darkness. The amber glow of Lossa's eyes visible for several seconds until she closed her eyes with a deep sigh.

"I did not dismiss you." The connection to the Dark Side swelled around Lossa as her empty hand snapped forward. Debris from the lights being thrown from the floor at alarming speed towards Romi and Bastila both before she released the hold over it and switched targets. Her hand closed slowly as metal door groaned against itself. Sparks thrown from the recessed edges as the center of the door deformed and dug into the floor before the it bubbled with a resounding thrum.

The lightsaber ignited in the dark with an angry howl. A deep red blade that coursed with energy and matched each step forward Lossa took towards them. "Now-" The blade rose until it highlighted her face. Showing her eyes were still closed.

The internal speakers crackled to life with static before settling into the familiar soft tone.

"Attention. Everyone. Attention. Please remain calm. Due to an emergency situation, all activity within the Enclave shall cease immediately and all beings present will evacuate through the nearest available exit before move away from the structure area to a safe distance. This is not a drill. Please exit the Enclave in a calm, orderly fashion." The voice went on to repeat itself endlessly, hoping to save the few inside that had remained.

The corner of her mouth was visible enough to show off the grin that had formed. "You are on a time crunch. So I would hurry were I you."

ATTENTION WRITERS INSIDE THE JAKKU ENCLAVE
Explosives are being armed inside the Enclave. Countdown sequence to begin shortly.​

Romi Jade | Bastila Sal-Soren
cc: Briana Sal-Soren​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Yay: Sophelia Ardemark Zaiya Ceti
Nay: Lysander von Ascania Mercy Naniti

"Corazona."

Jakku was an arid, desert world. A shiver still managed to claw its way down Corazona's spine.

Sophelia's brilliant strength settled over the atrium, tapping into the veins of Light that ran beneath the temple. Cora exhaled slowly, letting it steady her nerves before they threatened to fray.

How many times would they do this dance? The Sith slaughter while the Jedi retreat?

"Kshyy vines?" She lofted a brow at Zaiya, then hummed in approval. "Clever. Let me…"

Cora knelt, pressing both hands to the temple floor. Fed by Lady Ardemark's valor, she leveraged the current of the Light and fed the dormant seeds. They grew steadily, coiled and engorged beneath the tiled stone and ready to tear through the flooring at a moment's notice. When she rose, Zaiya was depositing a pair of bangles into Sophelia's hands.

"They're pressure sensitive, now. Ready to hug the moment they're stepped on."

There was probably an unladylike joke somewhere in there, but the encroaching Dark tide was upon them. Zaiya went to intercept a distantly familiar Togruta, a herald to the storm that was about to descend. How the Lovalla could manage to keep such an upbeat attitude on the even of battle, she did not know. It was enviable.

"May the Force be with you, Zaiya."

Cora turned back to Sophelia, and placed a hand at the young woman's shoulder. "Remember," she said gently, "We aren't here to win. If-"

Her expression suddenly soured, as if she'd caught the scent of something foul – and that wasn't too far from the truth.

Mercy. A familiarity that had been forged, unintentionally, through battle (and once, over happenstance and alcohol). Cora groaned.

"Oh, Ashla," she hissed. "He's brought Mercy with him. The Empress of the Core, as she's styled herself."

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Sera Rosh //:
//: Equipment in Sig //:
//: Attire //:

Whispers of the Jakku Enclave had always crossed the ears of the Sith. They were quiet and mainly kept to themselves. Too often, when they entered conflict, they were part of a larger group of Jedi. Still, the Jakku Enclave was something the Sith Princess assumed to be a Folk Legend, something to bring hope to the frayed edges of the different Jedi Orders.

Even with something that felt more legend than truth, the Enclave hidden on Jakku was rumored to have more knowledge than the Jedi Temples. She had already tried to hand in the Jedi archives on Tython, but that plan was fouled by her own foolish heart. Too often she found her mind wandering to that duel, wondering if she misunderstood the Jedi's intent.

Fingertips gently touched her red painted lips, the echoes of a kiss burning against them. To think now about the Jedi was pointless. She had been toyed with, never again.

Somehow, the Sith Covenant had uncovered pieces of the Jakku Enclave. Their knowledge now ripe for the picking, Quinn jumped at the opportunity without question. If she could find more information on what she had been created with, the better she could control it.

Quinn was no longer searching for a way to rid herself of the cursed core; instead, she wanted to wield it, use it to make her stronger. If it meant finding and consuming more — she would do it.

They wanted to paint her a monster, then a monster they would have to survive.

Moving through the old hallway, fingers lightly touched the datapads that lined the first corridor of the makeshift archive. It wasn't as clean or neat as the Archives on Tython, but she could feel the knowledge pulsating through the Force. It wanted to be discovered and torn open.

Stopping, her eyes caught one tablet, words etched in the old tongue. Her lips curled seeing that this was some of the forbidden knowledge the Jedi had collected along their way.

It was hidden here, with the hope it would never reach the eyes of another Sith Lord.

"Foolish idiots…" Quinn murmured under her breath as she pulled the tablet from its home. The words illuminated on the digital tomb, all of it in ur-Kittât.

She held the tablet close as she felt something nearby moving towards her. Quinn had been able to get deep into the archives, avoiding the fights above — who else was here?

Quickly, she shoved the tablet into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She made no move for her spear. Instead, she allowed her silenced presence in the Force to surface. In the same breath, the delicate crown upon her head stretched and sharpened, twisting into a horrific armored coronet.

A fair warning to whoever drew closer.

Through the Force, the Phobis Core hunted. It hungered, drawing the Living Force toward itself with a patient, insatiable appetite. Every living current bent ever so slightly as it fed. In its wake remained a dreadful heaviness, an unnatural stain that settled over the Force. It did not lash out or roar. It simply existed, and wherever it lingered, the Living Force seemed to recoil from it.

Quinn was in no mood to be interrupted; she would make this quick.