Invasion All Your Base Are Belong To Us! | TIC Invasion of SO Held "Thandon Star Cluster" Superhex

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
OBJECTIVE I: STORM THE TOWER

"Now, I need you all to extract a vial of your own blood with those kits. Go one at a time if you want, but if we are going to make progress here I am going to need those vials filled. Not all from one person, one from each."

Ronhar tuned toward Harsta and Garhosl. Before he could say anything, Garhosl spoke up.

"I have to advise against this, sir. I don't like it one bit. What if this witch tries to use our blood against us? Who knows what foul sorcery she's going to cook up?"

"I have to agree with Garhosl, sir", Harsta said in assent. "Still, I'll carry out whatever orders you tell me to do."

Ronhar glanced toward the vials, and then back towards his men. They certainly had a point, he had to admit. There was no telling what the Sith in front of them would do with their blood once she had it. He could only imagine the biological horrors that this woman must have cooked up for them, and his men had already risked so much in coming back to this wretched lab.

Yet, if there was any chance that Ronhar could save that young girl in front of him...

Ronhar took the vital off the table, titled his helmet askew, and jabbed it into his neck, extracting a small amount of his blood.

"Once you get those filled, place them by this machine."

Ronhar complied, gingerly placing his vital into the aforementioned machine. He looked back at the mysterious woman, who was doing her best to comfort the child. For all intents and purposes, she seemed like she was generally concerned about the survival of her patient. Whether or not she was acting, Ronhar couldn't tell. But, he was more than willing to take that risk. He strode back over to Harsta and Garhosl.

"I won't order you to do what I just did, you two have already engaged in extraordinary risk just by coming back here. If either of you wants to leave...I won't hold it against you."

Harsta and Garhosl stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do

Then, Harsta reluctantly picked up a second vial, and jabbed it into his arm. He extracted his blood as instructed, and placed his vial next to Ronhar's.

"You know me sir, I'll do whatever you tell me to...even if it isn't an order."

"Thanks, Harsta", Ronhar said appreciatively.

"Oh hell!", Garhosl hissed as he walked toward the remaining vial. He angrily snatched it off the table and jabbed it into his arm as well, filling it with his precious blood. Upon filling the container, he placed his vial next to Ronhar's and Harsta's, completing the trifecta.

"If I get mind controlled or something, I'm coming after you first, sir, Garhosl said half kiddingly, half seriously.

"Duly noted, Garhosl", Ronhar replied dryly. He could hear the steading pulsing of the heart monitor as the mysterious woman continued her work, still seemingly unconcerned with the presence of the three Imperials standing before her.

Ronhar just hoped she knew what she was doing. After all, though death was a part of his job, the death of a child was something else entirely. There had been enough suffering going around on this blasted planet already. Maybe, just maybe, Ronhar could do some good for a change.

That, of course, remained to be seen.

"Vials?", the Sith woman asked.

"Filled up as you've instructed. If this is a trick, we'll blast you pieces. I suggest for your sake and the sake of that child that you work quickly", Ronhar expressed in his most authoritative voice possible, his weapon still trained toward the stranger in front of him...

TAGS:
Vakhari Lutris

 

[Eurydice]

Darth Nefaron​

The nightmare, of course, would continue. On her own, Eurydice might've left the trooper with his most agonizing memories, dredged to the surface in his final moments. It was far from a peaceful death, one that she'd liked to have given him.

But she wouldn't. She never would, not for as long as Darth Nefaron loomed over her, trapped in the shadow of a man who sought only to cultivate fear in the most exquisite way possible.

Eurydice would take the dying man's fear and heighten it. Stretch it until it could be stretched no further, and make it her own. To survive, but also to sate the wicked nightmares that had plagued her since she'd first arrived on Anoat.

Only then, would she find a moment of relief. The voices would fade and the pressure would recede, before they ebbed back into her like a tide coming to shore. Inevitable. Inexorable. And always far, far too much.

"…!"​

The Dark side of the Force swelled around her, and Eurydice was caught within its billowing heat. Burning homes and strewn corpses shifted into a bird's eye view of the battle taking place on Brosi. There was fire here too, so much fire and smoke and metal. Death and triumph framed tattered banners in equal measures. The Darkness had sank itself into Brosi's crust, a memento for how cruel the Sith could be; for even if they were chased away from this edge of the galaxy, they'd leave behind the spiteful reminder that nothing, not even life, was sacred.

Darth Nefaron's voice could be oddly soothing at times. Soothing in a way that was just a little too wrong, like a predator cornering his prey. His narration over the carnage inspired a shudder to trawl down the girl's spine.

"Open your eyes, child."

Eurydice's eyes snapped open at his bidding. Pale blue irises were edged with flecks of gold as the corruption of the Dark side took root within such a small, fragile body. The solder had died painfully, limbs contorted in a sickening manner, dried blood beneath his nostrils and over his chin, even trickling in crusted red ribbons from the lobes of both ears.

Eurydice fell to her hands and knees, bellowing in a wave of anguish. In her inexperience, she hadn't just tasted his fear; she'd drowned herself in it. In excruciating panic, she lashed out - to nearby soldiers, to civilians, to even her own Master - in an indiscriminate bid to grasp at the despair that lurked within every being, even if it was only slight.

Then, she'd drag it to the forefront. Violently.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord let His outstretched hand slowly fall back down to His side as the fighter attack melted away, those that hadn't been destroyed or immobilized falling back to the safety of their larger vessels. There was no need to inflict further calamity upon them, they were not His target. None of these ships were, but He could sense His true target coming near. His sightless gaze swept over to the super-heavy battlecruiser approaching from the rear of the battlefield, two of it's three escorts continuing to trail behind it while the third broke off towards the planet's upper atmosphere.

His senses then drew His gaze towards the planet in question, Brosi. A great and terrible storm was taking shape above it, the Dark Side howling as the very fabric of reality undulated under the strain. A hungering vortex. He perceived the one from which such power emanated, and a brief flicker of recognition passed between Him and Spencer Varanin. But it was only a lingering sensation, neither of them could devote much time to such idle pleasantries, and the Dark Lord's attention returned to the task at hand.

With the attack on the Oblation abated for the time being, the warship continued to speed all-ahead full towards the Sularen's Revenge. The larger ship took up the vanguard of the approach, swarms upon swarms of starfighters launching from each ship and filling the empty void between them. He could see them all, peering beyond metal and glasteel to see the faces of each individual pilot, each one as vivid to Him as if they were standing only inches from His own face.

Once the Oblation had reached the targeted range between itself and the enemy capital ship, the signal was given to commence the next stage of the operation. All one-hundred-and-eight Xarûl starfighters rocketed out of their launch bays and into the void, each one skillfully piloted by Baron-Knights; Sith Lords who had undergone extensive ritual to become one with their chosen craft. There was little distinction between where the craft ended and the pilot began, and their systems were intimately linked. The Dark Lord's power invigorated them as well, His mere presence elevating their own skill beyond what was individually possible.

As the last wave of Xarûl starfighters left the hangars, the Oblation then began to rotate itself along the horizontal axis. It's starboard flank began to rise up, it's port flank dipping down, until the flanks had switched places and the ventral hull was now dorsal, and the dorsal now ventral. From the Dark Lord's point of view, the Sularen's Revenge was upside down, moving further away as the Oblation began to steadily climb to a plane above the one it had shared with the enemy flagship.

The Xarûls wouldn't venture far beyond the scope of the Oblation, keeping a tight encircling formation around the ship even as the swarms of enemy fighters appeared. By comparison, the Sith fighters were outnumbered roughly four to one by the Imperial swarm. But the Dark Side obeyed the Dark Lord, and through Him it's power could be wielded in whatever manner He desired. Raising His hand again, He now directed it towards the oncoming fighters.

Power lanced out from His fingertips, a stark red slash against the black curtain of endless space. Lightning speared towards the first enemy craft to come into range, the power carried with it enough to vitrify the metal into molten crystal; amorphous and brittle. This said nothing for the pilot trapped inside, their flesh charred down to blackened bone which ruptured under the weight of their calcified body. But, this was not the end of such an insidious attack, for even as the lightning passed over the first starfighter it leapt onto the second, and then the third, before branching off into a dozen separate chained arcs that swept from one squadrons to the next.

On and on, gorging itself on death and destruction.

By contrast, the Sith fighters were unaffected, for the lightning did not seek out their craft. It had been given a will of it's own, buoyed by the Dark Lord's power, and it could recognize friend from foe. They would sweep behind the lightning in it's wake, effortlessly and seamlessly coordinating assaults on those ships the lightning had yet to reach or had passed over. Their power flowed between themselves and their Dark Lord, magnified beyond imagination. When one of them died, cut down by enemy fire, they said aloud the words, "Let my power flow into my Lord Immortal, let my strength become His," and their power flowed from them into the Dark Lord; devoured greedily.

Darth Carnifex's attention did not linger on the fighter attack for very long, His true target awaited. As the Oblation came as close as it realistically could, having traverse to a higher plane so that it could potentially fly overhead of the Sularen's Revenge, it cut all power to it's engines and let itself be carried forward under it's own momentum. That power then flooded into weapon systems, which came alive with a harrowing screech. Compared to the enemy battlecruiser, the Oblation had little chance of success or survival, but it was not meant to do either. It was a vessel, a herald, and it had performed it's task.

Crouched down, the Dark Lord gathered onto Himself all the power of the Dark Side, letting it coat and suffuse every part of Him. He then launched Himself forward off of the Oblation's hull, the force behind it enough to completely stop the Oblation's dwindling momentum and noticeably shunt the warship backwards. The Dark Lord soared down towards the Sularen's Revenge, unnaturally gaining momentum and speed as He did, His movements empowered by the Dark Side itself.

His target?

The battlecruiser's outer hull.

Marlon Sularen | Ronhar Tane | Squesha
Calin Rakel | Lord Rasnuhl | Bella
Rowyna Galeway | Elmindra Xitaar | Darth Malum of House Marr
Fiolette Yvarro | Taeli Raaf | Spencer Varanin ​

 

[Horus Rhyne]

Location: Brosi
Ally: Sophia of House Marr

Horus closed the lid of his own helmet and followed Sophia down the ramp.

She wanted it loud. Then his woman would have it loud. His hand settled on her shoulder, but he didn't push or pull, instead standing right next to her and watching her magic flourishing out of her like that.

"You know, I will never not be in awe of you." Horus said in a low tone, watching as the crimson flickered through the air. It was insidious and Horus knew that because she had used it on him, once upon a time. Back when his advances had riled her. Back when she still fought against his interest and wanted nothing to do with him.

Soon enough the blaster fire would start. Then the explosions rocketing.

She made him smirk with her next comment.

"Oh, that's kind of you, I'd be jealous if you used all of it on other men." The tease coming sweet before he began to push forward. Following the sounds of battle and assuming that Sophia would be right next to him or behind him. He didn't lead them straight into the killing field, instead opting a slight circular motion.

Just to get a sharper angle on them.

"I will go high, you go low." His mind touching hers, whispering that in the crevice between their minds, before she felt a ghostly kiss against her cheek under the armor.

Then he was off, his form suddenly exploding into motion as he leaped up and was sailing through the air already. His sword suddenly coming out and carving through one of the soldiers that had been standing on a tank. Their helmeted head flew away and landed in the dirt. But Horus didn't have a moment to enjoy the beauty.

He waded into battle, sword in tow instead.

 

[Vakhari Lutris]

Tag: Ronhar Tane
​

"Filled up as you've instructed. If this is a trick, we'll blast you pieces. I suggest for your sake and the sake of that child that you work quickly"

"As if I haven't been working quickly?"

At the very least, they followed through with the request... Victory was mere moments away now. Vakhari rushes over to the machine, inspecting each vial while her other hand would snap her fingers before pointing at the girl. No words were spoken, but they didn't need to be.

She first takes Ronhar's provided vial, inserting it into the machine. As it powered on the trio would get to watch as it churned the sample, the blood being separated as this pale stranger was hunting for something very specific.

Her fingers quickly type at the keys, eyes in such a hyper focus it was inhuman. Next would be the second sample provided by Harsta, the girl seeing something they didn't.

"Ok.. Ok ok.."

Time was starting to thin, the final vial was inserted as Vakhari then rushes over to the other side of the machine. Gently grasping the final product, a clear and sterile vial. She had done it, this virus was to be officially slowed.

It didn't take a well educated guess that she had just made either a cure or at least something to fight back against the very weapon their higher ups had deployed here.

Her eyes watch the men before making her way over to the child, flicking the needle before administering it to the child. Vakhari takes a step back, keeping an eye on the vital signs. After a couple of minutes they began to climb back up.. Slowly, but it was evident that this strange doctor had just beaten the virus.

"The antibodies you all had produced thanks to the injections you used in here became stronger thanks to the injections you all brought with you."

She points to the medical station Ronhar had ripped off the wall, the one that had a variation of the virus, the young Lutris smiles slightly under her mask.

And those same antibodies now not only saved the child, but could end the threat of the virus. But the choice was now on them, destroy the progress that had been made today, or let this cure be given out at the cost of their enemy winning.

Either way, Vakhari had won. She had beaten this virus, and if they destroyed the cure she still got the destruction she craved.

​

 

[Revna Marr]

Allies: Srina Talon // Darth Caedes // Gerwald Lechner // Madrona A’Mia
Nearby: The Lord of Hunger

​

Chaos.

It ripped at Revna from all sides - she resisted, her own will once again proving to be strong…but this time, it was just barely enough. Fear, one that was oh so familiar to her, swirled within her mind and her soul. The fear of uncertainty, of the unknown. The dread that came with standing on the very precipice of oblivion, and looking into the abyss - not knowing that when she jumped, if she would ever come back from it.

<<…It's all right…>>

For a moment, a brief and oh so delicious moment - essence of her foe flowed into her - and like she had experienced before, she felt her own power grow ever slightly with the sustenance consumed. It was enough to bolster her more basic Force abilities…but if she was going to wield more power, then she would need to feed more. But it had never been her intention to do this, to feed off of this new foe.

He had not been her target, was not meant for her.

And yet here she was, here they were - two forces of Hunger, locked in place by tethers that she was still trying to understand. And the more her Void clawed its way through her, the more she felt bits of her slipping.

<<Stay with us…>>

A roar from their enemy ripped across the chaotic landscape, and quite suddenly Revna felt the connection between her and the stranger snap. Revna wasn’t sure if she was still breathing, she couldn’t feel the physical sensation her chest rising or falling, or even if her own heart was beating in her chest. All she could feel and sense was the Void - demanding more, trying to pull her under the waves and overwhelm her.

<<You are stronger than it. Let go…You are not alone.>>

Primal fear of what might happen held her fast - that was until she heard the Dread Empress's voice slip through her mind, a breath of calm in the raging storm. Revna heaved great breaths as she tried to find purchase in the chaos all around, a way to bring her mind back to clarity. The Empress's voice provided that much needed moment and Revna was able to steady herself, to focus on something else for the moment.

Somewhere beyond her, she could feel the power of ritual flicker and surge, and could feel the power of both Srina and Caedes at work. Her beloved had taken the moment she had given him and had planted their precious Seed into the ground; Revna could feel the Dark Side rising and coiling, could feel the burgeoning life within the Seed practically screaming in lonely terror at what was happening around it, to it. There was a flicker of sorrow, of pain, towards its suffering…but she offered it no comfort. What was transpiring was necessary for it to begin its work, its purpose, and though it tugged at her very soul - Revna would not stand in the way of the workings of ritual.

Something else swelled beyond her, power deep and truly Dark - rage and hatred, pain and despair. For a moment, she thought she could almost hear the echoed screams of innumerable souls…and the Chaos around her churned more persistently, tugging and ripping at her once more. She felt pieces of herself being flayed off, and warning flashed through all of her senses. The Darkness around the stranger thickened, deepened…lashed out with violent intent.

Beyond him, Revna could sense Srina working tirelessly at keeping the ritual together - but even with the Empress’s great power, there was only so much she could do, and though she was repairing the ritual even as it tried to unwind itself, there was still a lack of…power. Maybe...there was a way that Revna could aid Srina in her work, but it would require her to do that which she feared to do...

<<Let go.>>

There was a moment of hesitation from Revna as the nudge from Srina came into her mind - that pause before one chooses their fate. The temptation to surrender was growing more and more insistent. She was so hungry…so starved…

And she knew that relief would only come if she embraced the Hunger. But she knew that once she took that leap, everything would change for her. This was not something she could come back from, she would never be the same. Eyes like fire lingered on the form of the Empress, flickered to the charging form of Gerwald as he sought to draw their enemy's attention back on him, then briefly landed upon the dark robed figure of Caedes as he worked to pass the Seed to the care of the Hoardmother.

Revna slipped down to her knees and closed her eyes, and with a soft exhale like the final breath before one dies - she did what Srina encouraged her to do: She let go of her restraint, and let the Void surge through her uncontested, finally unbound. In the space of a heartbeat, the two parts of her that she had kept separated until that moment - became one.

In the blink of an eye, what had previously been unknown, became oh so clear to her as she was given Sight through the Void itself. Her physical eyes, usually like twin coals of fire - darkened until her eyes and the whites around them, turned inky black to reflect the Void, and the spidery black veins around her eyes pulsed and spread further along her pale skin as the Hunger took possession. Her presence in the Force shifted, and became wholly unnatural - akin to that of their foe, though distinct in its own ways. It was as if those nearby had suddenly stepped to close to a black hole - its tug undeniable and persistent. It grew colder, beyond the chill of the grave, of death. A black frost-like substance gathered on the ground directly underneath and around her kneeled form, spreading out in thin lines of inky ice, encircling her as if she was within her own ritual point.

The eyes of Hunger Saw everything and everyone, and it fixated upon the pulse of life and energy within them - it was all energy that was free for her to consume, and the singular thought to feed without restraint was near mind numbing and all consuming. It was here that the true battle of wills began - her will against the will of the Void. For a brief but violent moment, Revna fought to maintain control over her own mind, her own will. Feed me! - the Hunger seemed to scream through her consciousness. It flared brighter still, tried to reach out and drain dry those in her immediate surroundings. Revna caught and restrained herself, but just barely. No, do not touch what is mine, came her Will, echoing through the Void, demanding compliance. The struggle continued - until Revna turned her new Sight outwards and set the Hunger on its course - seeking tendrils of death that raced along the ground away from the ritual site. Anything organic in nature that the Hunger touched upon, decayed in an instant. What little life remained in the ground or even above it, was siphoned into the Void - trickling raw energy that fed Revna’s well of energy and power.

Relief flooded through her, a sensation that nearly overwhelmed her senses with the rawness of it, as it was like a sip of water to a man dying of thirst in the desert.

But the relief vanished as soon as it had come, and all that remained was the hollow and painful tug of the Hunger, now that it had been given a taste. She needed more. Further she spread her senses, ravenously consuming everything the Hunger touched, recognizing a little too late that she was draining dry Imperial and Sith forces alike - both the living and the dying. Revna had to force her Will over that of the Hunger’s once more: No…target only the dying...

The Hunger almost seemed to question her, its will contesting with her own. She was limiting herself by only targeting the dying, decreasing the energy input she needed to sustain herself, and aid her allies. But she recognized that she could not distinguish friend from foe, not when she was like this - and she was not willing to feed upon Sith forces, those that could still fight anyway. It took greater effort on her part, but the surge of Hunger paused - before it became systematic in the death that was dealt.

What Revna was unaware of in the moment was the very subtle and gradual erosion of her Will by the more insidious nature of the Void... its nature which was now infused with her own. It wanted total control over her - so it could do what it desired to do, which was feed without concern or hindrance, without the limits she was forcing upon it. It cared not for allies or allegiances, love or hate, friend or foe for all were the same in the eyes of Hunger. So it waited patently for her resolve to weaken enough that it could overpower her will with its own. If she crumbled here...there would be no coming back, and Revna would be lost to it forever - and nothing would be spared.

Srina and Caedes, even Gerwald, would sense the little Sith woman's gradual loss of control through their shared connections as an insidious chill began to creep along the edges of their awareness. It tugged upon their essence, and began to draw it into yawning darkness that now existed where Revna's soul was.

NOTICE:
Revna's Life Drain is targeting dying NPCs (Sith and Imperial) on Brosi only. This does not affect any Player characters, or any living (ie non injured) NPCs (Sith and Imperial) on the planet ...unless you wish for it to do so!
​

 

[Drystan Creed]

OBJECTIVE 1

Steel met steel with a sharp, jarring recoil—then gave way. Drystan's blade bit clean through Strosious's sword. Flesh would have been preferable, but steel was a worthy consolation. No time to savor it.

The broken weapon's death throes came in the form of metal shards, fixtures, and debris, all hurtling toward him in the choke of the narrow hall. The only answer was to weather the storm.

He drew in, compacting himself into a tight guard—turtle into shell—minimizing his profile so the armor could do its work. It held, mostly. Shards still slipped through gaps, biting into joints and seams. Minor wounds if taken alone, but their numbers and compounding with his previous encounter with lightning promised trouble.

He raised his left hand. The air between him and the shrapnel hardened, an invisible barrier blooming into place. The torrent of metal splashed harmlessly against it—right up until a Sith Lord came with it.

Crimson plasma flashed. Reflex took over. Drystan caught the blow, left hand bracing the blade in a half-sword grip, flat edge meeting the saber. His stance turned into a brace post, boots grinding into the floor, bleeding the strike's power into the ground.

Teeth clenched, knees buckling, he found the breath to speak—his real voice now, stripped of the false heroics, buried under the cold distortion of his modulator.

"You holding out on me, Sith?"

With a twist of his wrists, he turned the block into a channel, sliding the enemy's saber off his own steel. His stance bladed, leveraged with a step inside. The point of his sword angled—aiming straight for the center of Strosius's head.

Darth Strosius

 

[Onrai]

Objective 1
Tags: Open

The shade of Onrai finally managed to open the last of the doors in her path. It was an arduous conflict, but finally, she overcame the last of the infernal security measures to force the pathway open. This was exactly what she had looked forward to: accessing the security mainframe itself. With a focus, she began to pour the manifestation's essence into the security mainframe - if she could simply deactivate the security in the tower, it would be simple enough, but perhaps hijacking it would prove to be an even better, more amicable option.

Of course, there were other concerns.

Objective 3
Tags: Spencer Varanin

"I was pitiable." She said. As Spencer drew deeper into the cycle of the Phobis Core's invigoration, Onrai further drank deeply of the resulting reaction. There was enough power being generated from the reaction of Force and Anti-Force to fuel a small star, certainly more than the reactor of the warship on which they stood. "And I was happy. But paradise doesn't last forever. I still have prayers to answer, babies to help birth, crops to help irrigate, etcetera, even while we fight. But it's not on Ord Mantell. Not now."

And there it was. The barb, the tag at her present state. Onrai softly chuckled in response to the Sith Lord's intimations. What she had learned was that there was more than mere myth to the existence of her namesake - and horrific, monstrous revelations that had scarred her psyche beyond compare. The draw of energy only further reinvigorated the vampiric cycle that sustained and stimulated the Anti-Force entity's effect, even if her original goals on Brosi had yet been disturbed.

"To consider us similar would mean to acknowledge that what we now reflect is real. Or was real at one point in time. Far be it from me to question your own experience, but only the Maker knows everything. Not even the Celestials are that prescient."

The white cracks further ran up Onrai's form. This was a deficiency - her mind, her thought processes were scattered across a myriad of different ways. To heal the damage being done to her was preoccupied by whatever she could put towards the battle on the ground. Something had to happen - the Ablution once more shuddered as its thrusters began to automatically compensate for the pull of the true void that Spencer had sought to rend open. The meditation chamber shuddered, and some of the fixings on the wall were crunched against the hemispherical chamber.

There was only one real option at this point.

Left hand raised, still siphoning what energy she could, she rushed forward at whatever breakneck pace she could manage, expectant that Spencer would scarcely be prepared for any physical interaction in her present state. A hand reached out, but no channeling of energy came forth. Onrai sought only to accomplish one goal within the immediate physical and material realm: to wrap the splintering appendage of her grasp around Spencer's neck.

And squeeze.

-

Objective 2
Tags: Garza Selrik Lorcas Ronhar Tane Saltare Dothon

The energy that Onrai had been able to successfully send to the world flew across the landscape like a blackened mist. it followed the titan as he tumbled across the battlefield with the Grand Moff's walker. Now, the beast was vulnerable, and now its application could yet begin. The shadowed essence would visibly wash over Garza, only to seemingly dissipate.

That was its intention.

The power directed at the world was originally intended to unbind rituals, to break down the alchemical and sorcerous processes that had powered the horde of Sith undead on the planet. But Garza was almost identical in nature even if he was a living being. No natural biological functions kept the hulking Leviathan alive - he had been crafted through skillful alchemical augmentation, through forbidden fleshcrafting techniques that were the purvey of a microscopic few.

Through Dark Side sorcery that could be stripped away from him.

The rush of energy sought to do but one thing - break down the behemoth. Carefully crafted organs would hopefully begin uncontrolled growth, their alchemically stabilized flesh not much more than a cancerous tumor without the guidance of the Dark Side. Organelles whose very functions relied on the rites that made him would hopefully cease to function, hopefully causing catastrophic chain reactions to whatever the biological makeup of the monstrosity was.

How long she could inflict damage, were this successful, was another question entirely given the circumstances.

Tl;dr

Spoiler

1: Onrai's manifestation in the mega-tower has begun possessing the security mainframe, seeking to disable the lockdown.
3: The Ablution is resisting being drawn into the void of Spencer's Force Storm. Onrai, still struggling with the 'circuit' she and Spencer are in, has rushed forward and is attempting to wrap her hand around Spencer's neck to physically choke her, or at least distract her from her purely Force-focused efforts.
2: The energy Onrai has sent to Brosi is being used in an attempt to attack and destroy the Dark Side alchemical and sorcerous processes that keep Garza's organs and biological system functional after he has been taken down to the ground by the collision of the Bastion per a discussion with Garza's writer.

 

[Hacks]

Location: Administration Offices, 319th Floor, Ore-Duke MegaTower
Objective: Slice, Extract, Dip

Hacks began to extract when Xeykard sharply cut her off, "No, fuel your greed. There is more that can be used, if for nothing other than Tezhyn's credits." She was tempted to ignore him, pull the jack and take what she had for herself. This wasn't her type of rodeo, she was way in over her head. The thought passed her mind whether or not he was quick enough with that lightsaber of his before her Qenshi blasted a fist-sized crator in his skull. She was sick of this, she was terrified. Xeykard continued, "Others can sort through what is left, what you bring. Take without care."

She hesitated for a second, not acting, weighing up the two decisions. Betray Xeykard, take the info and sell it herself, but fight her way out of this tower alone, and find a way offworld. The other wasn't nearly as tempting, but it wasn't suicidal like the first. Stick with Xeykard, take a cut with a guarantee offworld and someone to guard her.

"Fine," she said and gritted her teeth. She knew what to do, she'd done this before. A simple worm program, self-replicating without the dependency to be run manually. She just needed to write the code and inject the script into the network. The worm would siphon the data back to her MacroPad and lock it down in a ice-drive, while overloading the systems to deny service to others on the server.

She had used this before, leaving a worm in a system for weeks or months, slowly corrupting a system or downloading its information at a trickle. This time she needed speed, it needed to be quick. A lightning bolt through the nodes, frying everything she didn't steal. Xeykard doesn't want me to be careful, cool, he'll get what he wants, she thought.

Hacks set the parameters of the worm, keywords and phrases within datapackets the worm should seek and download, but destroy the rest. The limp form in the chair began to stir, a hand reaching to the base of the skull and pulling the jack. She awoke, or near enough an experience as one could get as she left the Net and woke in the Real.

She spun in the office chair and faced her MacroPad, typing the last few lines. Four hands, and a cybernetically enhanced mind, she was unfathomably quick. "I'm going to hit the network with a needleburst, have to jack out or I might risk frying my own brain," she explained to Xeykard, briefly glancing to him as he fought back the undead. "She's going to be quick and explosive, can't hide us from any trace once I leave this in the server."

She hit the last key. A pulse rushed through the servers, the worm devoured datapackets and funnelled them back to the F80. It replicated itself, uncontrollable once left on its own. Hacks was no longer in control, but she was the recipient of its fruit. It was multiplying rapidly. The physical servers in the room began to heat up, her connection was lagging. The MacroPad pinged several times as storage limitations were suddenly nearing max and a stutter was affecting it's ability to keep up.

Hacks reached into her techjacket, digging past her rail pistol and Qenshi, pulling out several thumb-sized drives and slotting them into the MacroPad. It was filling up quicker than she anticipated. "I don't think I've got the space for everything, once we're full, we bounce," she said to Xeykard. The MegaTower was tremendous in size, housing thousands of servers, her single MacroPad would never have been enough, but she hoped it was enough to download the information she sought. The rest could go in the trash. The servers continued to heat up, struggling with the growing stress the worm was placing on its systems.

The MacroPad pinged. Storage full.

Xeykard - Her

 

[Braze]

Tags: Marlon Sularen

A L L _ Y O U R _ D A T A _ B E L O N G S _ T O _ M E
Objective III: The Battlefield is Constant Chaos
Gear: S.H.A.D.E.S. | Phantom Mist Projector | Gidgit | Code Breaker Card | Processor Pendant | Covert Compact | Nite Night Nails : POLISH | Deda-net | FSP - Besh | DUST Compact | In the Zone Compact​

Target: INV Sularen's Revenge
Bounty Link: Access Codes – INV Sularen's Revenge
License: Braze's Bounty Hunter License

Braze finished his checks... beacon masked, ID spoof holding, memory core stable. The buffer showed its first packet capture, harmless test data, but proof enough the system worked.

He closed the kit, clipped it back to his belt, and let the mouse droid scurry off down the corridor on its new patrol. From here on, it would work quietly, unseen, until he called on it.

With nothing out of place, Braze keyed the console back to its default display and walked away as if nothing had happened.

---

-- This post is made in accordance with the Bounty Hunter's Code. The target's toggle was active at the time of posting. This post includes a valid license and links directly to the bounty as required by board rules. --​

 

[PT-45 "COWL"]

OBJECTIVE 1: STORM THE TOWER
PERSONAL OBJECTIVE: PURGE THE FORCERS​

The battle wasn't going poorly, not by his estimation. Two against one, but it seemed the one was relatively new to her unbearably ridiculous abilities in the Force, as she seemed to rely heavily on it, given her failed battle prowess. Failed as he saw it. She was tenacious, though, and didn't let the wounds he'd given her slow her down. He'd give her credit for that.

Everything about the situation he was in changed in a moment, however.

Where once there had been a man, presumably human but he didn't have any confirmed way of knowing, something else emerged. It came with the sickening sound of cracking bones and stretching flesh the likes of which he'd never seen. It was more disturbing than even the presence of the undead within the city. Them he could handle. They were just sacks of meat with bones that strode around trying to eat you. Understanding them, outsmarting them, was simple. It was the exact opposite of watching a man turn into a giant chiroptera of the mega order. Nothing he'd ever encountered had ever been so... disgusting.

Unfortunately, his disturbed fascination with the transformation came at a price. He'd lost track of the feline one, and she'd managed to get around behind him, leaping upon his back and trying to get at the device within his armor. She did manage to damage the external power cells, which meant his time with active nullification was now limited, but getting to the actual mechanism would require breaking through his armor completely, and he was not wearing durasteel.

"A pointless endeavor," he said to the girl. "You're wasting what little time you have left."

With a sudden surge, he rushed backwards, incidentally away from the bat beast, intending to slam her into a pillar or wall of the great tower outside of which they now fought. A little distance would give him greater reaction time against the larger threat, and, perhaps, he could do more harm to the cat creature, eliminate her from the fight. He didn't need to kill her to do that, he just needed to maim her or knock her unconscious, and then he could focus on the greater threat of the two:

The chiroptera.

OUTFIT: LINK | GEAR: Staff, Rifle
TAGS: Kasir Dorran | Soah Ty’Jyn ​

 

[Ronhar Tane]

CAPTAIN RONHAR TANE, TK-3301
OBJECTIVE I: STORM THE TOWER

"As if I haven't been working quickly?", the mysterious woman curtly replied to Ronhar and his men. Still, she at least seemed rather pleased with the vials that Ronhar, Harsta and Garhosl had provided, eagerly inspecting the contents of each one of them while excitedly snapping her fingers toward the sick child.

Ronhar didn't quite understand what exactly she was doing, but he did get the general gist of it. She took each vial of blood and individually placed it in her machine, muttering and typing away as she did.

"Ok.. Ok ok.."

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Ronhar but in reality was just a few minutes, the woman ran to the side of her machine and pulled out what appeared to be a clear vial of liquid. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she had made some kind of cure.

She rushed over to the child and injected her with the serum. Within a few minutes, the child's vital signs began to stabilize. Whatever this woman had just cooked up...it had clearly worked against the virus. At least, for now.

"The antibodies you all had produced thanks to the injections you used in here became stronger thanks to the injections you all brought with you", the woman noted as he pointed to the medical station that Ronhar had torn off the wall earlier.

"I see", Ronhar replied rather evenly. That cure that woman had just made was perhaps now the most valuable thing within the whole mega tower. No doubt it would fetch a small fortune from the scientists of the Imperial Confederation.

Yet to Ronhar, there was something more valuable still.

"Very well Sith, you've gotten your prize, surely you no longer need the child? Let me take her somewhere safe, somewhere far away from all...this", Ronhar said as he once again began to approach the child.

As he did, the world around him began to melt, as Ronhar found himself transported back in time. The medical clinic that he currently found himself in suddenly became the medical clinic on Mahporeem that Ronhar had been transported to after his unfortunate Rhydonium accident. The once empty hall became alive with the cries and groans of the sick and injured, as Ronhar suddenly found himself strapped to a gurney much like the one the child was strapped to. His cybernetic arms and legs were missing, replaced with the mangled lumps of flesh that had been left after his accident. As he turned to the side, he noticed a young boy, not much older than girl, covered from head to toe in caustic chemical burns. It had been a terrible sight that day, one that Ronhar thought he had suppressed. Evidently, he had thought wrong, as the boy's face, twisted in pain, was as vivid now as it had been back then.

Ronhar struggled to move, as he desperately tried to move closer to the young boy. Strapped down to the gurney, and missing his cybernetic implants, he did little more than thrash about. A team of doctors came in, and grabbed onto the back of his gurney as they moved him away from the child and into the operating room. Ronhar tried to crane his neck backwards, but was tied far to tightly to the gurney to do so.

"No..", Ronhar cried out as he was taken away. "No no no no no, I'm sorry, no no no no no, I'm so so sorry, no no no no NO!"

And suddenly, he was back in his current predicament, now mere feet away from where the young girl laid...

TAGS:
Vakhari Lutris

 

[Vakhari Lutris]

Tag: Ronhar Tane ​

"Very well Sith, you've gotten your prize, surely you no longer need the child? Let me take her somewhere safe, somewhere far away from all...this"

"That would be incorrect, not only do I need to keep monitoring the child... But I need to extract the same antibodies once she produces more within the hour, then that sample can be used to treat others."

She knew not if the question was either asked in pure emotion, or to secure the work she had done.

"In the meantime why-"
​

And suddenly, he was back in his current predicament, now mere feet away from where the young girl laid...

"Do you happen to take any medications, Mr.Tane?"

Vakhari had taken a seat, scooting over to the man while seated in a lab chair with wheels.

"Hmm..."

The girl starts to inspect him, eyes darting from limb to limb.

"The rot spores dug in deep, the clean burn did work to save time however."

With a motion of her hand she controls the spores, removing each and every one with her force. Gently she contains them within a sealed container.

"There, but I would recommend a new set of cybernetics once you return home. Along with a mental evaluation... Unless, you would want me to give the evaluation while we wait."

She didn't expect to be given the trust, but it was hard for her not to inspect everything... A habit.
​

 

[Velda Nar-Donna]

​

WEARING: Black Obsidien Sith robes with some armor underneath.

WEAPONS: 2x Lightsabers and The Dark Side

TAG: Barragh Nenn

OBJECTIVE 1: STORM THE TOWER!!​

Ensnared within Velda's Force Push. Barragh found himself snatched from his feet, arms flailing. He was hurled backwards, away from her, like a mere animated Umbaran ragdoll as he was carried away. He slammed onto the permacrete with an undignified crash, coming to rest precisely near the very edge of the Mega-Tower's dizzying height, exactly as she had so clinically foreseen.

She watched him from her poised stance, a faint, almost imperceptible tilt to her hooded head. She heard the distant groan from him. Possibly feeling the brutal kiss of the unforgiving permacrete. His Shadowcloak, a dark pool around him from the impact, slowly, sluggishly, began to draw back to his form as he started to rise again. He made a low, thoughtful sound, then his eyes flashed with renewed resolve. He recollected himself, pushing up from the ground.

And then, just as if on cue, he rushed forward. He sprinted across the diminishing distance between them, his vibro-weapons poised in readiness; his left arm tucked low, the blade at his waistline, while the other in his right hand extended, angling inwards, swaying back and forth, and seemingly looked to Velda like some sort of nervous tic. He truly seemed like a creature of singular, desperate purpose.

A cool, amused note entered her smooth voice, cutting through the silence that remained between the lingering mists and the stormy sky. “Such haste, Umbaran. Persistent, I'll give you that, but 'determined' implies a chance of success. This is merely... repetitive.”

Again, she lifted one finger up to the sky, and the wrath of the heavens above made itself known once more.

BOOM!!!!​

A pearlescent bolt of raw lightning ripped, tearing and electrifying the space between them. It struck not Barragh directly, but impacted with a deafening, thunderous explosion directly in front of him against the permacrete. A searing fountain of brilliant sparks erupted from the impact point, showering the air.

The strike was undeniably brutal, violent, and impossibly loud. The sheer, concussive force, born from the rapid heating and expansion of the air surrounding the lightning strike, should have predictably hurled the Umbaran right back toward the edge of the roof, from which he had just desperately sprung.

Regardless of where he ultimately ended up. Velda would close the distance in her own, terrifying way. With a sudden, unnerving ripple in the air, she simply vanished out of existence.

And then, she reappeared, materializing directly near the edge of the roof. Teleportation

She stood there, utterly motionless, like a statue carved from shadows. Through the impenetrable black void of her hood, her unseen gaze fixed upon him, her slender dark figure unmoving, utterly silent, simply staring. Her very stillness radiated malevolent intentions.

Then, as if in response to her silent command, the heavens opened up once more. A heavy, relentless rain began to lash down upon the roof, while more violent lightning flickered menacingly within the turbulent, rolling clouds directly above.

 

[War Marshal Helix]

Objective II
Equipment: Himself, Operating Landslide Heavy Crawler
Tags: Lirka Ka / Spirit of Korriban​

"Bloody" was certainly the word for it. The supercrawler blocked ground access to the factories stolidly, enforcing that quarantine with gun, missile, and gore-slick metal treads. Helix wondered how the rest were doing. It had been uncomfortable radio silence from the rest of the objectives.

"The crawler's performance is beginning to concern me less than the lack of a sitrep from the other detachments. If I didn't know better, I'd think they put me here to waste my time." Or get me killed, he thought.

"I don't suppose you've heard anything from the fleet?" He was interrupted as the crawler shook. The forward artillery guns had seen something they didn't like. His receptors swivelled to the foreward viewport, seeing only a sizeable glowing crater where the street had formerly been, some 400 meters away. Whatever it had been, the crawler had taken the initiative itself. Good.

"As I was saying." He continued. "It's been quiet here. Far too quiet. Occasional isolated troops, the odd fighter caught in the AA. It's as tedious as it is worrisome."

"But, I suppose I worry too much. Just as likely, it's an indication that everyone is doing their jobs, for once. Doing them so well that nothing is getting through." Helix very, very much doubted it, but it was perhaps best to appear in control to his superior. Particularly when it could earn him much favor in the eyes of the higher-ups. He wasn't especially ambitious (or respectful of authority) but favor meant money, influence, and most importantly, being feared enough to be left alone. Helix hated interruptions and meddling more than almost anything else, and had come to despise the obstructiveness of the bureaucracy he operated under.

All he could do was pull this mess off somehow, and maybe, just maybe, position himself in a place of glory as he'd done on Woostri.

 

[Barragh Nenn]

Location: Ore Conglomerate Mega-Tower rooftop
Allies: Imperial
Enemies: Sith; Velda Nar-Donna​

---

Rushing towards her the Umbaran would note how his opponent began to raise her finger to the sky.

It was a tell, given what he'd seen during their confrontation it wasn't beyond a stretch that he could read her based on her gestures. Earlier a lightning storm from the sky had destroyed his Shuttle then , when she'd thrown him backwards he'd caught the movement of her hand. This time she raised her figner to the sky indicating where the attack would come from.

He'd release his focus causing the amber in his gaze to flash as the potent energy he'd been gathering invigorated him.

Becoming a blur of motion Barragh would let the force transform him into a whirlwind of speed. Dashing forward in a straight line towards Velda Nar-Donna he'd expected that the attack would target him specifically but his unnatural speed still ensured he came down on the side of the lightning bolt opposite to where he'd been, closer to her.

It was a strange thing, the residual electricity didn't seem to affect him at all. Arcs of electrical current would crawl across his Shadowcloak but otherwise seemed to be completely absorbed by it.

The 'Boom' left his ears ringing.

Any concussion force that chased him was at his heels as he moved unerringly towards Velda.

She disappeared, teleporting.

Perhaps she thought she'd reappear closer to the edge of the rooftop, in front of an opponent on the proverbial backfoot but if she reappeared in front of Barragh as he was now she'd need to weather a storm of attacks.

Wielding the Vibro-abrir's with deadly efficiency he'd have parried and cut at her, attempting to carve into her arms, legs and torso with whirlwind speed to effectively overcome her defenses and incapacitate her.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: 1 Hold the Tower
Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Drystan Creed
--------------------------------------------

The little debris storm didn't do much on its own due to a sudden barrier, aside from scratching some of the paint off of His opponent's armor and getting a few very lucky minor cuts in. Far more important than any damage it might have caused however was what it forced the other man to do, to hunker down and stay still. Still enough for Darth Strosius to aim His lightsaber properly to bypass the barrier and stab into His opponent without any fear of the blow being glancing. Yet the sword came just in time before He could land His strike.

Disappointing but not unforeseen.

If nothing else it seemed like the bravado wasn't present anymore in His opponent's voice, that was some progress of note. He much preferred shattering bones rather than composure but it was a decent enough start He supposed. The Sith Lord moved to pull His lightsaber back as the sword it was pressed against slid up the blade, only succeeding in aiming it even more towards His head. He just barely threw His head back in time as the sword's tip came up off the lightsaber.

The unsubtle screech of metal cleaving into glass could be heard as He stumbled back in surprise, glaring at the new scratch that was marring the left side of His vision. The prong of His mask clattered to the floor with an inhale from Darth Strosius. One that was followed by a humorless and decidedly venomous scoff. "Not anymore." His free had shot out to grab hold of the offending sword blade, lightning crackling in His fingertips in purple arcs. Meanwhile He flipped His lightsaber around in a reverse grip and stabbed down towards His opponent before he could get too far.

 

[Srina Talon]

Tag: Darth Caedes | Revna Marr | Gerwald Lechner | Elmindra Xitaar | Zal Aditi | @Madrona A'Mia | Lysander von Ascania | The Lord of Hunger
Location: Force Nexus - Objective 3 [Chaos]
____________________________________________________

She asked too much.

Gerwald Lechner would fight this creature of a man to his last breath. Not because he had a death wish or fancied a swift end—But because she asked it of him. He was both sword and shield at a time when she could be neither. <<Always.>>, she returned to her wolf, the unspoken promise made, whether it needed to happen or not.

He would do his duty, and she would do the same. Always.

Revna Marr dropped to her knees nearby, and Srina's regret doubled. She was asking too much. First from Gerwald and next from a young woman who had recently suffered, who had been imprisoned, and was left with wounds that had not yet healed. Srina was asking Revna to give in to something so malevolent and primal…That it was in a perfect position to drive her mad. Most felt that the Dark Side was obvious in its machinations. Abhorrent, flashy. But, that wasn't strictly true.

More than anything…It was seductive.

Enticing the unwary, the ambitious, and the mighty to the folly of hubris and insanity disguised as genius. The Sith Empress would not have encouraged this dangerous gambit if there were any other choice. Were it possible to have carried this burden in Revna's stead, the kneeling Echani would have done so in a heartbeat…But she could not. If she let go of the ritual, if she stopped weaving, all their work would fall apart like tattered ribbons. Madrona A’Mia would be left exposed and Psilofyr…

Psilofyr would die for nothing.

<<That's it my child…Let go…Let it all go…>>

Once more, her voice swept through the psychic links that bound them, whisper soft, but with such presence that it would peel the layers of the Void back enough for Revna to breathe. The gnawing cold that started to bleed from the woman in the form of black ichor was no mere echo from The Lord of Hunger ramping up the efficacy of his disease. Her ability appeared to have a mind of its own, answering the enemy, rather than cowering…

<<We are here.>>

Srina would not waste precious time pretending that she could keep the ritual whole, deal with the enemy, and keep Revna from vanishing into the abyss alone. She had witnessed this before. Not the exact scenario, but the moment when the will of a Force User began to slip beneath the weight of unimaginable horror. Some Sith might have relished in death and danced on the bodies of those that fed such insatiable hunger for power…But Revna?

She had never displayed such inclinations.

Golden eyes slid up toward the King of Korriban, and a split-second decision caused her to shift in ideology. Since arriving in the Holy Worlds, she had taken the role of an observer so as not to trample on the fighting spirit of those who would defend them to the death. She might have held their allegiance by default—But that was not what she sought. Her mind brushed against his to give warning while she began to thread the ritual to herself. Binding it to her person, stitch by stitch.

If his eyes were as keen as she thought they were…He would see the threads coalesce around her form and release him from their moorings.

"…She needs you."

It was a trade…As much as Srina cared for Revna, she also knew the power to be witnessed within the sanctity of a true Force Bond. If anyone could keep Revna whole… If anyone could support her through this and let her emerge on the other side with her mind intact… "Use your bond. Fill the cracks within her before they become chasms we can no longer touch. Anchor her to this reality by giving her what she wants most…"

Unless she had underestimated the way they orbited around one another, not to mention, the emotion that leaked through their psychic connection... He was the only choice. It was heavily filtered and affected by proximity…But even she, the typically clueless, could tell they were bound….Caedes…Caedes would know what to do.

"…Desire will hold where fear cannot. Go."

She breathed, and her knuckles seemed far too skeletal for a moment…Her energy peeled away by The Lord of Hunger as her focus became split.

"Now."

It was the only order she had ever given to Darth Caedes in all the time they had recently spent in the same space. It was an extreme rarity that the Echani exercised such authority against those whom she considered peers, but there were moments such as this, where a decision needed to be made and clarity was required. She could feel Revna teetering, her will blunted by the same thing that made her strong…This was the only way through. With any luck…Revna, might yet hold the line.

Srina pressed deeper into the ritual and felt the connections and tether to Madrona A’Mia in a whole new way. It presented as thousands of little fingers crawling through Brosi, beneath the ground, seeing in ways she had never considered. Not with her eyes…But electrical imprints in the back of her mind. It was perhaps the first time she had felt the truth of the Hordemother and those that surrounded her. Her hands found the glyphs that she had cultivated, and they responded with a low, resonant hum.

They were awake, now.

Ash and dirt smudged her fingertips while they snaked over careful etchings, turning their glow from a steady light to something more voracious. She poured not only her power into them but a lattice of will, a vision that would eventually prompt the roots of Psilofyr to grow strong and sink deep, to take hold, no matter the chaos that raged. The ground beneath her trembled while she whispered words that spurred the ritual forward, barely audible, but so powerful that anyone with some degree of force sensitivity would be able to hear for miles around. Psilofyr was…Not silent, in the Force.

It wept for the loss of its father, for being left in the dark, for the invasion of self that made it seem like it had been created only to be torn apart. Srina could not spare it this pain, but it was a cold comfort to note that it wouldn't last much longer.

She pulled a blade from her side and sliced cleanly into her palm. Srina let the sharp implement go and it floated of its own accord toward Caedes and Revna...Driven by intent, hilt first. Slender fingers, white as bleached bone, then formed a fist. Red liquid splattered on the glyphs… "To you…I gift my sorrow."

Srina paused…Eyes closing once more. There were so many voices in the ephemeral…So many voices.

"To you…I give the gift of memory. You will remember every death, every drop of blood spilled, and every secret buried on this planet. This pattern of decay ends, with you."

The glyphs in the ritual area flared, their lines no longer etched into the ground, but burned into blackened channels that pulsed arterial red. Even with the open wound on her hand, she let her fingers dig into the dirt, as if she might pull the planet's heart into her palms. Beneath her touch…

She could feel the vibrations of something moving, hear the earth shifting.

Her voice was pale and thin, drawn from the energy she spent burning the candle at both ends. She hardly looked like an Empress of anything, small, and kneeling in broken earth and ash…

"It begins…"

 

[Sophia of House Marr]

​

​

Ally Tag: [SO] + Horus Rhyne
Enemy Tag: [TIC] - Not Engaging Yet [OPEN]
Location: Brosi [At some kind of...Refinery?]
Objective: Objective III - BYOO [Subject to change pending opposition]

| Robes | - | Red Lightsaber | - | Cool Whip | - | Enviro-Shield Generator |
___________

Quote of the Moment:
"...Well...You need the villain. If you don't have one...The good guy can just stay home."
___________​

Sophia felt his hand on her shoulder, but didn't turn in the direction of her…Horus.

They had never really discussed what their relationship was. Even when she'd introduced him to Darth Malum of House Marr it hadn't been with a title, just his name, not because she was uncertain…But because she didn't know. Sophia had fought him for so long out of some misguided sense of duty to House Marr that when he finally pressed the right button…They just fell together perfectly.

Like toast and jam. Obviously, she was the jam.

She focused on the kill-zone ahead, and the red mist curled tighter around her like a living thing. It threaded through the air and seeped into cracks, anything that wasn't completely sealed. His words drew a sharp smile from her, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Aren't you sweet…", she returned with a drawl, though she was less than secretly pleased. Her abilities were the one thing that set her apart from every other red-eyed Marr that scampered through the verse.

"You better be careful, though…Flattery isn't cheap."

It meant that he would have to come up with something new the next time he wanted to be cute. Or—Something expensive. When he teased about her gifts being used on others, he would hear an almost musical laugh filter through their comms. "Is someone jealous?", he would be able to feel her confident, sassy smirk even if he couldn't see it. The ghostly kiss to her cheek was in direct conflict with the sheer violence she was inspiring not far off—Too sweet, for the carnage she produced.

"Let's test that theory…I might like you like that way."

The connection between them painted the picture of his rough and tumble battle plan in the back of her mind. High and low. They'd cut down the Imperial forces they crossed with the moral standpoint of a hurricane. It didn't care what it blew down, flooded, or left in varying states of destruction. Neither would they…Not because of the war, but because their space had been threatened. Sophia didn't think that the enemy would accept that they were just checking out real estate—And she had no desire to find a knife sticking out of her back.

The moment Horus broke away, Sophia moved. The mist surged forward, sweeping low, billowing outward like a beast in mid-hunt. It clung to her heels as she advanced fast and close, weaving between bursts of blaster fire. She was already among them before the first soldier realized their flank had been breached. It wasn't his fault. They seemed to be the rank-and-file type. Ordinary, fodder.

They couldn't be expected to outwit someone who had been trained since birth to eviscerate anything that opposed her (or bored her) without breaking a nail. Her saber ignited with a vicious snap-hiss, and the first Imperial soldier went down with a scream of surprise, and she spun swiftly, fluidly cutting through two more. The red haze followed her, curling into the wounded, siphoning the last spark from their bodies until they were left lifeless.

Sophia didn't let the mist merely feed…That was too simple. Only a peasant, thought with that sort of closed-minded energy absorption technique. Sophia let it reach further, seeping into helmets and through rebreathers. It wasn't a poison or a virus those pieces of equipment had been designed to keep out. In the confusion, soldiers spun and fired on their own squads, panic blooming in the chaos. A heavy gunner turned his weapon in their direction, and Sophia dove behind a thick piece of duracrete that was being used as a barricade. "Horus—Get down!"

The duracrete exploded around her head from gunfire, and she sank lower.

Something about the ammunition gave her reason to pause. It was making her mist curl away from it…As if it were repelled, like water, pressing away oil.

Kark.

She groaned, annoyed…As if the day couldn't get any longer:

The bullets she'd narrowly avoided were full of void-stone particles or something similar. The Imps in all their Imperial-arsed wisdom were using literal, force breaker rounds.

Damn it.

 

[Braith Achlys]

Objective: 1 (Storm the Tower)
Allies: The Sith Order
Enemies: The Imperial Confederation
Directly Interacting: Brent Warnel + Darth Virelia
Equipment: Golden Carapace (Armor) | Braith's Spear | Braith's Saberstaff

Big Bad Wolf

"Your turn." Darth Virelia said.

They weren't words she needed to hear, there'd never been a moment in her life that Braith would've deferred to someone else for permission to do anything, but the sentiment behind it was something she accepted with only the slightest sign of acknowledgement on her end. Her grip on the saberstaff in her hand tightened as the chirping of electricity leaving her fingertips faded, the hand she'd held up to redirect the destructive force of the thermal detonator away from her quickly lowering as she lifted the hilt of her saberstaff up to meet it. Fingers curled around alchemized steel, wrists tilted, and the lightsaber clicked apart into two separate halves. She slid her feet apart slightly, widening her stance, and gave the Sith a slight nod to signify she was taking her up on the offer to cut in.

"You're no Jedi Grandmaster, and you're certainly no Dark Lord of the Sith, but make no mistake, Brent Warnel ," Braith said as she started moving forwards, footfalls that started as a slow walk and escalated with each step until she was at a light trot and then a run, "I will treat you like I did them." There was a dark fog that circled her vision, literal tunnel vision caused by the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and everything from the blaze that streaked the walls and the sounds of war outside were drowned out by the rhythmic thumping of her heart pounding in her ears. She had a very real limitation on her physical stamina, having an extra organ between her sinuses and lungs meant it took longer for her to pump her body full of the nitrogen she needed to breath, but it was obvious by the sudden transition of her sprinting to immediately arriving in front of the Mandalorian like a dark blur that she'd thrown caution to the wind. It was only a moment, just long enough to push her across the distance between them, but she already felt like she'd ran for hours - she'd have to rely on overwhelming him to bring things to a close quickly or she'd be forced to do something drastic.

Both ends of her sabers came in from either direction like a pair of magenta scissors towards him, uncaring whether or not the man's armor or reflexes were up to the task of keeping them from biting in to him - she very much so still had the force at her disposal, she'd adapt if her lightsaber wasn't up to the task.