Blood Moon Rising

[Hailey Sosis]

Objective: Siege Breaking
Allies: Unsure
Enemy: People who Seige (and thus starve people to death) [member="Ryan Korr"]

Harley was still in her room, when the sirens rang out, the troops ship she was on was beginning to land. She got up and moved down the corridors, towards the assembly point. She saw the regiment of Sith Empire soldiers assembling. She then felt the ship little bounce as punchered the atmosphere. She smiled they where landing soon, she took a seat on some durasteel barrels. She did not need to form up with the rest of troops, as she was sith. Then the Colonel of this sith regiment spoke, Everyone as we speak, there is a team of inquisitors infiltrating Galactic Alliance lines. We are not going in hot, as that would make the enemy react to much to their progress. We will be going into landing zone four miles away from them, and then begin the march to them. They will see us coming, and yes this will mean we will be doing a full frontal assult, this is never ideal. So the slave battalions will be going in first, they are situated on another ship, which will be landing with us. Their job is to weaken the enemy lines, before our assult. Remember when you see cover, take it and use it to help other advance, but we will break this siege. The Alliance will be running with it's tail between it's legs. As he finished his pep talk, the thud came, and ship had landed. Then a sudden hissing noise, came as pressure from the ship equalised with outside world. Then the troops began marching off, harley decide to join them, after she was here to kill alliance troops. As she walked of the ship the sith troops, where setting in formation to begin their march towards the alliance. They where wearing Sith Ascendancy Armour, and carrying Sar-41 blasters, then she saw a rabble get off from other frigate, these where slave battalions they did not look nearly as well disciplined or well equipped for war, their armour looked like lump of durasteel strapped to them, they seemed to be carrying axes, and had a collar round their neck. These where no doubt where supplied by [member="Darth Banshee"], as she been buying slaves for the empire. She saw them start moving first, the sith troops came behind them. The slaves where the cannon fodder, she decide she walk with the troopers, sure the slaves looked more fun, but she did not want to die, and they looked like they where about to.

Spoiler

Troops are mostly for fluff, feel free to cause them harm

 

[Adriana Fortemps]

Location: Tai Fa's Command Ship
Objectives: Waiting for Operation to commence
Allies: [member="Darth Saarai"] | [member="Ashaiya Mar'Dikan"] | [member="Vaylin"] | [member="Maxmar Gricori "]| [member="Scipio Alta"] | [member="Darth Vesper"] | [member="Darren Korpil"]
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance

"None at all my Lord, I trust you have prepared for everything." Jorryn said as she bowed forward in acknowledgement, attempting to stroke the ego of the Thirriken as he informed them of his plan.

The Echani had immediate respect for all Sith Lords despite their outward appearances, all of them having had proven their strength for the title at one time or another. And even though this strange looking being appeared diminutive and weaker Jorryn had heard many stories of the Lord of Inquisitors during her time on Bastion. She had hoped to run into him for some time and though his appearance had not quite lived up to the stories about him, the way that the bird carried himself did.

The Lord seemed resolved and every motion he took appeared as calculated, the loyal soldiers behind him respecting his commands. Jorryn trusted in the diminutive lord as he began his short, but thought out speech to all gathered about his plans. Her lack of questions were both an attempt to show her faith in him and an attempt to get in better graces with the Inquisitor.

The silver haired entwined her hands in front of her as she stared forward stoically, though the anticipation and excitement racing through her could be gleaned from her face and minor muscle movements. She prepared herself to be one of the first to exit the ship, though would allow for the nameless woman and men that would die to rush in front of her into the battle.

As she waited, Jorryn acknowledged the presence of a captain she hadn't seen before with a short look. The man knew how to show proper respect to Sith, which is all one could ask for those not gifted with the force. She also felt the cold, lingering presence of a tall figure nearby, but she didn't gaze towards it as she worried what the figure would appear like. Her mood lifted even further as her gaze fell onto familiar silver locks of her people, a comforting sight that the Echani hadn't seen in quite some time.

Her attention was pulled back towards the Zabrak as she gave her question to the Sith Lord standing beside the two acolytes, burning amber eyes turning to the Thirriken as he gave his response to her question.

 

[Ivlyn Mecetti]

[SIZE=11pt]Directly Affects: @Taeli Raaf, [member="Choli Vyn"], [member="Ryan Korr"], [member="Aela Talith"], [member="Tiland Kortun"], @Syrena Colsin[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Fighter Variables: 8 Sprite-class fighters, 4 Dauntless-class fighters. Information on tactic below.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Ivlyn was oblivious to the incoming starfighters until one of her shocktroopers pointed it out. She had been distracted going over a datapad. Distractions weren’t the greatest thing that could happen for a Force user. It was a mistake, and one that could have cost her any command privileges that she had. Thanfully, however, they were a shuttle ride away in New Kyleth.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A breath of fresh relief. There was a squadron of Tapani starfighters overhead, and whoever was responsible for command would realize that a mistake had been made. The Tapani starfighters engaged. There were eight of the fast Sprite-class vessels, with every two paired to one of four Dauntless-class starfighters. They engaged, targeting the vessels torpedoing the ground.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]These pilots weren’t the best that the Tapani had to offer, but they weren’t crap, either.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The tactic was to have the Sprite-class vessels keep a watch as wingmen, and engage those that got behind allied pilots. The four separate wings of Dauntlesses and Sprites would engage separate targets as well, one of the Sprites hanging back further than the two vessels in front of it to target those pilots who managed to get behind them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Hopefully all went well.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Tython System,
Tython,[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]New Kaleth[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Rosla gave a soft smile, just before the starfighters targeted them. He didn’t know about them until he was given the alert, so he gave a response.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]”I am of an old Order. One that once was a rival of yours, but we have shed our past in the hopes of gaining enlightenment, knowledge, and a companionship with our Jedi brethren. Pelagon still occasionally sends Jedi to your organization for a reason. We regret our past… Rosla frowned, helm held between his arm and torso. ”I can provide your archives with any information it wishes to ha-” He looked down at his wrist, brows furrowed. The mocha-skinned man looked up with wide eyes.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]”Starfighters!” He cried out. One of the vessels in orbit had sent out an alert, or someone in the squadron had. He didn’t have time to look. The helmet found its way back on his head, and his shocktroopers orderly marched to avoid any proton fire.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]One of the mobile medical platforms exploded, hit by a stray proton torpedo, and it crumbled out of the air down into the ground below. Metal and fire fanned out a little ways from it. He ordered the remaining medical platform to make way to the quarantine area.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Then they came. The Tapani starfighters.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]”Lieutenant, tell the dropships to prepare to receive civilians. Begin escorting them to reception point, and take them to the nearest settlement.” He sighed heavily. ”Unfortunately… I am unsure if they will be receptive to such a thing.” He looked to [member="Taeli Raaf"].[/SIZE]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Location: Within the Storm that Lurks.
Direct Allies: [member="Ashaiya Mar'Dikan"] | [member="Scipio Alta"] | [member="Vaylin"] | [member="Jorryn Fordyce"]
Other Allies: [member="Ardam Parever"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Syrena Colsin "]| [member="Harley"] | [member="Darth Vesper"] | [member="Darren Korpil"]

Opponent (eventually): [member="Zark"]

Amusement briefly flashed across his alien features.

Difficult for a human to parse unless they had a lot of experience with the Thirrikens, but before the Lord Inquisitor could reply one way or another the other acolyte responded with a question.

"A few." Head tilted towards the Captain walking in stride with him. Najek was a good one - resolute, staunch, competent and not easily dissuaded. He fought and fought until a command was given for retreat or he died. It was as simple as that. Captain Najek nodded quickly and ticked a few buttons that relayed information through the data link to all of them.

It highlighted about half a dozen focus points for their initial push.

Supply points, a small outpost that was a crucial node for information exchange between the various layers in the siege, barracks that had some reinforcements, the usual critical things.

"We are a go."

The Thirriken suddenly said as he felt the sudden onslaught delivered by the TIEs. A long streak of bombardments rushing through the unaware village, ripping through buildings, streets, people wandering, there was a shudder in the Force. Usually it wouldn't even have ticked, but this was Tython. Everything that happened here resonated with the Force.

The greatest genocide, the softest whisper of death... they all brought consequences to the balance.

Moments later the ship went silent as air friction eased when it touched down, silently gliding through the night and resting a few clicks from their destination. "We are two clicks out from their first outpost. Pick your targets, eliminate them, move closer, stay silent and don't die immediately." Najek bit off every word once the Thirriken let him do the rest of the mission update.

The ramp of the hangar disengaged and paved the way outside.

Already the winds ushered in as the storm raged outside.

This would not be easy for anyone.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

The sensation of mass death - it was refreshing. It was a reminder: This is who you are, this is what you feed off. You are, first and finally, a Sith. Not trusting himself with autopilot, it was rather one of his Malachor forces, broken in mind and soul, and of some distinguishment who would bring him to the planet's surface. He beckoned to his apprentice, settling into the same ship he had docked with, a Sith Interceptor - they had to break away from the fighter bay and head to the general hangar to exit, but the cloaking field provided perfect cover to slip through the chaos and spirit them to the ground.

It did - it pressed through, the Force Storm leaving them rattling in their seats, the wind howling and battering at them, their communications dying out as they plunged downwards from where the sky was storm-gray with clouds to where they could see it slowly turning black with the fresh ashes of premature cremation.

"Just like old times for you." He said to his apprentice, a brief aside at the bombed wreckage, making a languid gesture with a manicured hand, a ring gleaming on his finger, and a loose cord of decorative metal wound around his wrist. "You have your mission, I have mine. We rendezvous back at this location - keep your comlink connected. I'd hate to lose someone with as much promise as you, hm?" He offered the sort of affectionate smile a jackal might while looking at a corpse. "Let the Force serve us both."

Then, in a scant moment, he was running.

​

~​

​

Yes. He ran, feeling the sensation of his heart quickening, his breath shortening, the Force and his own body coming into concord as he pushed forwards, pressing through from their hiding point to the village, cloak flying in the wind. Yes, yes. How long had it been since he had been able to do this? For two years, now, he had walked only with the aid of machines, clumsily, or limped on the ragged limbs of a corpse, but no, never again.

Over the horizon, he saw the village, reeling from the chaos. Smoke choked the air, and there was a sense of eerie stillness - the way the winds of the storm railed against the sounds of battle, making it seem closed-off, almost intimate in the way you could only hear the screams near you.

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the insistent pull of precognition to guide him. His disciple was doing the important legwork here, he was simply going to have a touch of fun. The distraction - he was the distraction. Subtlety was straight out the airlock. With a slash of his hand in the air, fire and smoke parted, cutting a runway for him to enter through.

"Glory," he said, making each word practically a song, "Glory! Sing praises and give thanks, offer up your lives - the Sith have come!"
He expected the confusion to quickly give way to resistance, eagerly. He smiled, broadly, turning his beautiful face this way and that to look for his first victim as he stepped into the village.

"Glory and praise!"

| [member="Darren Korpil"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] |​

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Darth Vesper"] [member="Ivlyn Mecetti"] [member="Syren"] Colsin
The Village
-------------------------------

Tiland stopped short and frowned as something rippled through the Force. Imminent danger. A threat. He turned and wheeled just as the first barrage of torpedoes slammed into the ground. It rumbled and shook beneath his feet and he swayed, bracing himself with the staff. Smoke and fire rocked around the village of pilgrims and shouts erupted from the ground. Yet Tiland remained calm as he pivoted to follow the fighters above. TIEs. He couldn't tell which empire they belonged to.

He closed his eyes and reached out into the Force, stretching out to the minds of the pilots above. They all lived. All were sentient and they had their own emotions and their own thoughts. There were too many of them and they were too distant to do anything to each specific one, but he could at least do something general. He planted a feeling through the Force, reaching out into the attacking pilots. A strong feeling of guilt, of remorse, and of questioning. Tiland had seen the deaths and these too he projected to the pilots.

But somebody else caught his attention. One who forced an opening in the smoke and challenged them. A Sith. So, they claimed their identity openly this time. Interesting. Nothing stealthy or cloak and dagger. No, this was an open declaration of war. Tiland eyed the Sith and nodded.

He rolled his shoulders and tightened his grip on the staff. Its solidity comforted him and he made his way to the figure.

"Glory and praise only the Force!" Tiland's voice rolled across the open ground, cutting through the smoke. "For it is the bond of life that holds the universe together." He stopped, legs spread apart, and held the staff crosswise across his body. "Unless you come in peace, you have no purpose here. Go back to your masters and cower in the Dark!"

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Tython
New Kaleth Shantytown

Objective: Avoid being blown up... and helping out her allies by calling for help
Allies: [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Ivlyn Mecetti"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Vesper"] other Sith that are part of the diversion

Hmm an ancient Order that was rival to the Jedi from the Tapani sector. How very interesting. A new iteration of the Mecrosa Order it seemed, or maybe even the old one that had survived underground when others had claimed the name in the past. Ideas started to spark in her mind, but she would keep those to herself for now.

"It should be an illuminating conversation," she said to this Master in the Mecrosa Order. "I do so enjoy learning about..." She trailed off.

The first thing she heard was the familiar shrill sound, it was a sound that could pierce through many other sounds. Then they appeared out of the stormy sky, TIE fighters. Green lasers flashed from the squadron, strafing the settlement in an explosive path of death. Not to be outdone, the missiles impacted at the same time... one near her position. She was blown off her feet in the shockwave of debris, falling heavily to the ground as the Sith began their assault on the village.

Ears ringing even as the man near her was saying something, she shook her head to clear it. Knight Kortun had run to engage a Sith that had arrived. More would be coming, she was... quite certain about that. More starfighters appeared, likely from the Tapani forces in orbit, looking to engage the Sith fighters.

Another shake of her head...

"We can't bring any dropships in until the Sith fighters are gone," she yelled, her hearing still returning to normal. Grabbing her comlink, she opened it onto the emergency channel for the GA forces in the area.

"This is Jedi Master Raaf, New Kaleth is under attack from Sith forces. Requesting immediate reinforcements!"

She could already feel death and pain in the Force, the world of Tython reacting violently as it always did when such shifts occurred in the Force. The planet was highly sensitive to such things, and the storm began to intensify, feeding off the darkness being unleashed.

Purple light ignited in her hand as she unclipped her lightsaber. Time to play the part.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Such audacity. Vesper caught glimpse of the man, some elder standing ready for combat armed with only a staff, repudiating him. Above, at least one pilot had already broken off the assault, nauseated, the image of a bombing victim whose face he thought he'd never see etched into his mind - and even when the concentration broke off, that one fled across the sky, keenly aware of his vehicle's tracked nature, where he would land it some place far away, mumbling apologies to people now scattered as dust who would never hear them, tears streaking his face. The fight could wait, this man needed only to be alone.

No such remorse stirred in the heart of the Sith. He cracked his neck, left, then right, turning to face his interlocutor. "I would go back to my master," he drawled coldly, letting the words slip from his tongue like poison, "But I serve no one. I would cower, but I fear nothing. I would run back to the Dark..."

He swept out his arms, the sleeves of his robes drawn out like wings, hooking his fingers like talons, and sparks arced from fingertip to fingertip, the air filling with a viper hiss and the smell of ozone. "...but the Dark is already here. Here to take this filthy hovel, and this wretched planet - and you." Thrusting his hands forwards, he loosed a searing current of cyan electricity from his fingertips, the air rippling with heat. He gazed into the Jedi's eyes, his own exultant, shining with the predatory sulfur of the Dark.

| [member="Darren Korpil"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | ​

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Valley of Fire, near Kaleth
Objective: Down with the Sithness.
Gear: Youngling Field Kit, Training Lightsaber

The boy listened as [member="Trextan Voidstalker"] tried to explain what a cavalry was, but it still wasn't making a lot of sense.

People put armor on animals and then used them like tanks? The mental image that conjured was more than little ridiculous. "That doesn't even make sense," the young Atrisian complained. "Wouldn't the animals just... wander wherever they wanted to?"

Speeders didn't have minds of their own, after all.

Honestly, the boy was starting to wonder if Teenage Master Ninja Jedi wasn't completely pulling his leg about all of this...

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Location: Quarantine Zone
Allies: [member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Aela Talith"] | [member="Jada Raxis"]
Eventually Engaging: [member="Darth Saarai"]

Blasted Plains
Valley of Fire, Tython

The speeder underneath him emitted a high pitch whine as its repulsorlifts sent Zark and the rest of the ranging party hurtling across the plain, drowning out an eerily silent landscape all around them with the roar of the bike's engines. Their patrol had been an uneventful one, with very little sign of any kind of life at all between the edge of the valley and its center. They had made it inside the quarantine zone and were just a few minutes from the rear siege lines when the Knight sensed a deep disturbance in the Force. Glancing back the way they had come, he felt a faint rumbling in the distance but could see nothing through encroaching storm cover.

No order was given, but the company came to an an abrupt stop as a few were forced to turn their speeders suddenly to avoid a sudden collision.

"Admiral!" Colonel Varik called out through his helmet's inbuilt comm system, "Getting scattered reports over Alliance battlenet about some kind of air strike on New Kaleth!"

Zark's mind raced at the possibilities. He tried to remind himself that there were many more likely explanations, it was possible there had simply been some kind accident, or that the Vahla had planned a last desperate strike in hopes of breaching the Jedi siege. Even pseudo-Imperialist resistance fighters from the protectorate of Anaxes was a more probable scenario, but something about a feeling both in his gut and through the Force told him that even if he couldn't afford to make assumptions, his first instinct would prove correct.

"Hal, take five men!" he shouted back into his uniform's embedded comm unit, exposed face quickly growing drenched in the storm's accompanying downpour, "Drop your supplies, and make best speed back for the keep! They'll be organizing a counter-assault, and I want you to help lead it!"

"What about you, sir?" the Alliance Pathfinder asked, unhooking straps and slicing stubborn knots with his vibroknife, "Where will you be?"

"Completing our mission! The siege needs these supplies, attack or no," Zark glanced up and down the plain as if he expected a horde of foes to appear through the mists rising from the plains at any moment, but there were still no signs of life, "And something doesn't feel right."

Why attack New Kaleth? he had found himself wondering, There's nothing there but ruins and religious fanatics.

When the supplies had been redistributed among the bikes of his remaining men, the admiral kicked their speed into as high a gear as their loads would allow them. As they approaching the New Jedi Order's siege camp, Zark feared that on heightened alert and with the poor visibility that had come with the storm, his comrades would mistake him for an attacking war party, so as they crested the last ridge he produced the hilt of his lightsaber and held it aloft.

The core of the energy blade was a shrouded ashen fog and of little help, but that only made its outer shell even more distinctive. Ember orange hues crackled at the edge of the confinement beam giving the alchemized blade an appearance almost like that of a flaming obsidian sword. As distinctive a form of identification as any, and when he could make out the first friendly faces upon pulling into camp he deactivated the saber before practically leaping from the now idle speeder bike.

The first Jedi Masters at the site he came across were both [member="Aela Talith"] and [member="Ryan Korr"] standing together.

"I just heard about the attack, sent half my patrol back to help organize a response," he reported, likely blundering into the middle of a conversation, "Whats your status here? Still spooky quiet?"

 

[H3xle]

LOCATION: Vahl Tower Siege Camp
ALLIES: The Galactic Alliance, [member="aela talith"], [member="jada raxis"], [member="ryan korr"]
ENEMIES: The Sith Empire, [member="darren korpil"], [member="darth vesper"]

A siege is defined as a military operation in which enemy forces surround a town or building, cutting off essential supplies, with the aim of compelling the surrender of those inside. It was a dirty business, especially when dealing with fanatics.

For the hundredth time since waking up that morning, Ahsona wondered if the presence of herself and other Jedi were possibly exacerbating the issue. The followers of the darkside were notorious for zealotry, as were Jedi if honesty was applied evenly, but the followers of Vahl seemed to scoff at the normal level of zealotry. The One Sith had been gone quite a long while, most of Tython was healing, but the Vahla were still there. A wound on the surface of the planet.

This morning seemed different though, a darkness permeated the Force that wasn't originating from the Tower, as if something were coming.

"Gaahhk!" A scream was momentarily ripped from her as she involuntarily dropped to a knee, hand to forehead. Pain ripped through the force and echoed around her montrals. A moments concentration pushed the echoes to the back of her mind as she brought her mental defenses to full. She stood back up and looked around, faces stared at her for a moment, but rumbles over the comms quickly drew them away. They had more information, but she knew something had happened. "What's happened?" Grabbing the arm of a soldier who was passing, he looked at her for a moment.

"New Kaleth is under attack, we're sending a reaction force." The soldier replied, then continued on his way at a quick walk.

Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of her lightsaber as her eyes were drawn to shapes approaching in the air. Ahsona didn't draw it just yet, but she knew it would rest in her hand before the day had finished.

She didn't know how she knew, but she did.

The Sith had come to Tython.

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Darth Vesper"]

Tiland stood still as the wind whipped his hair and beard about his face. The storm on the horizon built in intensity. Its tension crackled through the air and he took a deep breath. The Light flowed into him and around him, suffusing his body, and when he opened his eyes, he was at peace.

The staff, he still clutched, and the Force flowed through his arms into his hands and then into the wood itself. It hummed and vibrated with the energy and began to glow a crisp blue. The words of the Sith echoed loosely in his mind, but for now, he ignored them.

Lightning was no easy thing to respond to, but still the Light flowed from into the staff and its radiance grew. He jumped from the ground and twisted his body in the air out of the way of the first cascade of lightning. But even that would not be enough in the long-run and so, with feet replanted on the ground, he spun the imbued staff, catching the lightning on its wood and redirecting it onto the ground.

Still, its heat and charge began to burn against his skin and scorch his robes, but he let those flow into the Force as well, washed away by the Light.

"If that is the case," Tiland finally answered, "Then why are you here?" He flicked his head upwards. "You work in coordination, not as a commander. Your belief in your autonomy is misplaced in the Dark, for it twists all to serve its ends only."

 

[Atlas Kane]

Just outside Kaleth Village

Most of his concentration was devoted to the task of hiding their presence. Even with the power of his kin aiding him it was an undertaking. He was too used to masking only himself within the Force, a lone hunter, solitary in his approach during the hunt, yet not this time. This time he was part of a pack, a small strike team sent by the Sith Empire to Tython, the heart of the Jedi, or used to be, until it was devastated by the Sith not long ago. They were brave men and women, capable above all else, they would serve well, his kin was along too, blood of his blood, a brother. An equal within the Sith, a fellow Knight, he had chosen to come along on this mission, requested it personally from the ones in charge, to be with his younger brother, to spend more time with the only family left, as he said. Atlas was certain there was a different motive behind his brother's actions, a reason why he wished to get close to his kin, but there was no reason in speculating now when they were in the field, deep behind enemy lines. He would have to rely on Reynauld, just like Reynauld would have to rely on him, else they might both end up dead, a bond forged of necessity more than family. Perhaps that was why he wished to come, to lure Atlas into a false sense of trust?

They stood quietly in the cover of shadows beyond the village, inside the forests near the rebuilt village. All motionless, without a sound they stood ready, waiting for the sign. Atlas was closest to the edge of the treeline, tucked into the protruding roots of a large hollow tree he waited, weight resting against the wood as his mind remained focused on obscuring them within the Force. The only distraction was the occasional crack of lightning, though he had let it become little less than background noise within the storm of the Force he was so deeply immersed in. Unlike many of his peers within the Sith, he perceived himself to have a more intimate connection to the Force, perhaps a relic from his time as a Jedi. Many a time he could feel the Force coursing through him, when he wielded it, not as a tool, but as an extension of himself, as a part of himself, something to be embraced, not dominated. The same notion oft made him question, however, if that made him less Sith than those peers? Less devoted to the ideals of what their Code stood for? Questions such as these gnawed on his mind whenever he was immersed in the Force and had to sit idly. None of the others dared make a sound to distract him either, so the questions came again.

Lightning struck again, yet familiar silence did not follow, instead, there was the alien whine of machinery, distant, yet approaching quickly. Bloodshed drew closer. The whine grew louder, the anticipation more palpable. Atlas' eyes opened to look around, he could see a few of the troopers and his brother behind their trees, peering out towards the village. They were all still, no motion betrayed their emotions, a fine bunch, indeed. He himself didn't witness the display, yet he saw the lights dancing in the teams' visors. Hauntingly beautiful, the melody of war. It kicked off with a loud staccato and would be swiftly followed by creeping crescendo delivered by those who are to cause the diversion, the lead melody that would mask the quiet play of the team sent to liberate the Vahlans. He could hear the music in his mind already, accompanied by the score of grand composers of ages past. The team waited a few more moments, until the chaos and confusion of the sudden airstrike had taken full effect, then the small group left the cover of the trees to advance towards the village. With eyes directed to the skies and attention focused on the wounded, their approach might go undetected, the cover of dark and their black attire would likely aid in their attempt to remain undetected. Of course once they were inside the village all pretenses of stealth would be dropped in favour of even more distracting melodies.

 

[Jaxton Ravos]

Outside Tython
Allies: [member="Ashaiya Mar'Dikan"] | [member="Scipio Alta"] | [member="Vaylin"] | [member="Jorryn Fordyce"] [member="Ardam Parever"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Syrena Colsin "]| [member="Harley"] | [member="Darth Vesper"] | [member="Darren Korpil"]
Enemies: [member="Zark"] [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Aela Talith"] [member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Ahsona Ryl"] [member="Taeli Raaf"] @Ivelyn Mecatti
Sorry if I didn't tag you. Ton of people in this thread, and I'm late.

There were, to Jaxton's knowledge, an extremely scant number of methods of cloaking a vessel's exit from hyperspace. He was familiar with one, and only one of them. The White Current could hide ships from sensors, make ship's sensors think other stuff was there, confuse droids, and confuse minds and eyes alike. Some treated it akin to mentalism, but Jaxton thought that term was limiting to the true power of the White Current. He'd practiced with a while now, and most frequently used it to hide his Force signature or change his appearance, but now used it to hide the appearance of his transport as it exited hyperspace. He held this for about two minutes, just long enough for him to activate the Stygium Drive.

The TAG-LAW was technically a Silver Sanctum ship now, but it was created in the days of the Levantine Sanctum. A miracle of engineering and alchemy created as a joint project by Warren Valik and Rel Connery for the fun of it. Two inventors the likes of which the galaxy hadn't seen before or since. It had a stygium drive, created asymmetrical interdiction fields, and it's hull was alchemized as a Force Disperser, so it couldn't be sensed in the Force. A precaution against Sith Admirals getting 'hunches' on potential firing lanes. It was made for the Levantine Sanctum. The Levantine Sanctum that Jaxton Ravos had founded many, many years ago.

But Jaxton Ravos wasn't the man he was ten years ago. He'd drank from the Font of Power, before Akala swallowed it whole. He killed a Sith who ate planets, and then he fought Ashin Varanin and beat her. He could have left her, but he didn't. He knew she had killed so many, and hurt so many others. So he killed her too, and fell. He realized Ashin was right, and that people couldn't be helped. Only enforced. So here he was, stygium drive activated, ready to come to Tython one last time, and show the Jedi what he'd learned.

 

[Baxter Weyland]

Location: Village
Allies: [member="Darth Saarai"], [member="Darren Korpil"], [member="Jorryn Fordyce"], [member="Darth Vesper"], [member="Vaylin"], [member="Ashaiya Mar'Dikan"], [member="Darth Olympus"], [member="Atlas Kane"]
Enemies: [member="Tiland Kortun"], [member="Ahsona Ryl"], [member="Zark"], [member="Shoma Ike"], others, but no one directly as of yet but feel free to come take a swing

He landed with a crash, pain flowed through him like a river. He let out no noise, he did not grimace beneath the mask and leather which obscured his face, his agony had focus, purpose. The twisting of his nerves coalesced into rage, all consuming, utterly intoxicating rage. Maximar's eyes burned red, perhaps even glowing under the shadow cast by his helmet's brim as the darkness brought him strength.

The warrior bounded forward, his movement awkward and unnatural, but frighteningly quick. It didn't take him long to reach the smoldering settlement, it took even less time for the smell of burning flesh to reach his nose and flood his senses. It was revolting, yet something forced him to take pleasure from the aroma. Storming through the fires with his cape billowing behind him, a gauntleted hand wrapped around the hilt of a saber.

The weapon sparked to life, hissing angrily as it cast a crimson glow over his figure, joining the brighter oranges and reds of the flames. The first was a man, barely alive as he dragged himself from under some rubble. Maximar took his head from his shoulders with a single swipe. The next was a woman who screamed, he cut her in two. The next hit him over the head, a heavy stick thwack-ing against the back of his head.

Turning on a heel he brought up the saber to strike until he laid eyes on the boy. He couldn't have been more than fourteen, anger burning in his eyes as he defiantly stared down Gricori. He could be of use, that anger could be re-purposed, Maximar desperately tried to convince the presence. But it would not listen. "I-I don't want to." He uttered quietly as the boy hit him again. It became angry. He reeled in pain, in terror. He couldn't resist, he didn't want to but he couldn't stop it.

He had to.

Maximar cleaved the boy in two, and simply continued onward, blade alight as he cut down those trying to flee the chaos. He did as he was told.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

Vesper curled back his fingertips, wisps of smoke rising from them, regarding the Jedi with a measure of curiosity. He could have redirected the lightning back towards him - or even leap towards him and try to strike him with that staff of his, but instead he chooses to bandy with words. Why? He mulled over potential reasons in his mind - perhaps another Jedi was circling behind him - or he hoped to minimize collateral damage, that made no sense, they were at the outskirts of a recently-bombed shantytown.

After a quick moment of contemplation, and resolving to not lower his guard, he realized he had overlooked the obvious answer: this man was a Jedi, of course, and that meant that he was mad, with no desire to inflict death even when the enemy of his tribe stood brazen before him. He pursed his lips, then drew them back into a grin. There was plenty of chaos, plenty - his apprentice was going to be attending to his true interest here, so he was free to have a pleasant chat among the wreckage. He was charged by his benefactors with nothing but distraction, so he would distract.

"I am here because there is something on this planet, which I would not otherwise be able to reach, worth taking. If it concerns you, though, don't worry - I'll betray them the moment it's convenient. Though I have to thank you for raising the issue, it's so refreshing not to have to give the old 'for the Empire' lie.

"That being said, enough with your superstitious animism. What you call the Dark Side is nothing separate from this living, writhing Force of yours, it is that which you who blindly worship it fear the most - the idea that it can be conquered, tamed, and brought to heel! If the Dark Side truly is the path to immortality and power, then the sad truth of your Order comes to light - that it was pointless.

As he spoke, Darth Vesper reached into the folds of his robe, drawing forth a glinting piece of metal, a pointed hilt with blade-like protrusions. From within it, the Jedi can sense the pulsations of the Dark Side: misery and despair oozed and coagulated around it, focused on its center. "If there's no reason or reward, how could you possibly hope to convince the people gifted with the spark of superiority to live like peasants and die like dogs?

"Now then, you've piqued my interest. Let's see if you can't entertain me, hm?" The darksider ignited his blade, and with it came a keening whine almost like a scream as an arc of crimson plasma burst forth. "Bore me and I'll but go find someone else to hack to pieces. My sword hungers for blood!"

| [member="Tiland Kortun"] |​

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Darth Vesper"]

"At least you're honest," Tiland replied, circling the Sith, and paying attention to his movements. Each subtle muscle movement and shift of his weight. He seemed to be thoughtful for a moment, as if he were mulling over some sort of decision. He reached one quickly one, certainly, for he was moving forward and drawing his lightsaber out. He shook his head slowly as the man continued to ramble on. Truly this one was sold fully to the Dark. "Ah, but you are young. Immortality loses it appeal when you're old."

He slid forward, each step precise and measured, with the staff held in front of him again. Classic crimson. Old school Sith, perhaps? Curious and he had already revealed that he was here for a purpose, to take something, yet, he seemed in no rush to go after it. Tiland frowned beneath his beard as he thought about it. "We do not fear the idea that the Force can be conquered." His voice was low, but still rumbled through the chaos. "But to see reality in such a small way..." He shook his head. "The Force can no more be tamed than one can tame life. Grip it as tightly as you can, kill as much as you can, and it will always evade you to pop up somewhere else."

He stretched out to the other Jedi in the area with a quick telepathic message. We are not the true target. This one plays for time.

Tiland considered as he moved in closer to the Sith. His staff still radiated with the Force and he considered. Perhaps there was something he could to distract this one and lure him away. He reached into the Force and pulled out memories he had seen during his time on battlefields across the galaxy. The assembled Omega armies stuck out most to him and he summoned the images of the Alliance forces and stretched them across the land behind him.

An illusion, certainly, but often one that could distract and disorient an enemy.

 

[Ras'kala'han]

You and what army? A classic question to beg a foe who fiercely overestimated their own abilities. Now, it seemed, Darth Vesper received an answer - he paused for a moment, wavering. The memories that were thrust at him were vivid, it was not just an image, but a place and time itself that he found himself stranded in. For a moment, he saw the void of oblivion, ready to swallow him up in the form of absolute humiliation, and defeat.

For a half-second, he flinched - left open - but then, he would raise his saber back. "I..."The man inhaled, sharply. "I have tamed the only life that matters. My own." His body, now mingled with the Epicanthix heritage of the nameless Slave who gifted him with life, granted him a crude sort of resistance to these illusions. An advantage, he supposed, to sullying his body with the blood of alien filth. Sweat beaded along his forehead, his heart still racing. He gripped his lightsaber in one hand, more tightly.

"Still, I doubt I'll ever see the appeal in letting the void swallow me. I've seen it happen too many times already - I'm not as young as you think. I know how time grinds things into dust." What is this fear? Even broken, the shadow of the illusion clung to him. To join his father, his sister, his companions, all annihilated by the march of the ages he was locked in carbonite, that could not - must not happen. Enough - he needed to focus his anger. "Do you think tricks and deceit will win this day? The Sith have already won, from the moment the battle started, and you simply haven't realized it!"

The whining keen of his blade seemed to build in intensity, reaching a fever pitch, yet he could not still his hands. The thought of death was in him now, and his eyes darted from place to place. What fear the illusion could not put in him, he himself swelled with. He relaxed his muscles, masked his face and muddied his aura with anger, but there was an uncertainty planted at the core of his being. "No more of this folly. I am Darth Vesper, I will not submit."

And yet, he stayed his hand from lashing out, seeking to choke out the doubt rising within him.

| [member="Tiland Kortun"] |​

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Darth Vesper"]

He had touched a nerve with the illusion. Which one, however, he could not tell. Nor could he tell why, but something had unsettled his opponent. Tiland caught the tell-tale glimpse of sweat gleaming on the forehead and a tight grip around the saber. His eyes were unsteady and continually darting. He was off-edge, intently so. Scared? Perhaps. Tiland observed him and listened to his words. Desperate, perhaps? He smiled vaguely beneath his mustache.

"Ah," Tiland finally said slowly, "To tame ourselves is the greatest struggle any being will ever face." He could feel it now, the hunger that curdled in his blood and craved life. This too, he let slide into the Force, dispersed among infinity. "And can we ever truly tame ourselves? Or do we merely keep ourselves in check?"

His eyes never left Vesper's face as he continued to circle around him. A steady gaze, gray eyed, and contemplative. Gentle, even, and softened by centuries of experience.

"No matter," he added after a moment, "But your understanding of time is not broad enough. It grinds things into dust, but from that dust, new life springs. Why fear death? As rivers flow to the sea, so our spirits shall join with the Force and our bodies nourishment for new life to follow. Endless runs the cycle and all become one with the Force in the end. Celebrate it. Rejoice in it."

Tiland could sense emotions flickering from the man. Some anger, certainly, but something else lay at the core. Something he couldn't quite name.

"Have you won the battle though?" Tiland asked as he raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain? Perhaps this all was a ruse. You fight here for nothing more than time and not what it is that you seek. So you fight us here, pull our attention here, while others seek the goal."

He stepped slightly closer.

"Who is really distracting who? I foresaw your arrival."

 

[Vaylin]

Location: Tai Fa's Ship
Objective: Prepare for the Infiltration
Allies: [member="Darth Saarai"] | [member="Ashaiya Mar'Dikan"] | [member="Darth Vesper"] | [member="Scipio Alta"] | [member="Darren Korpil"] | [member="Jorryn Fordyce"] | @Maxmar Gricori
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance

Vaylin strode beside the Sith Lord, arms held behind her back until Captain Najek relayed the information through their link. The Zabrak brought her left arm up, flicking her finger across the wrist datapad as she analyzed the data.

It was a standard affair in terms of what targets were listed. Barracks, outpost, supply - the bread and butter for sieges that kept the wheels going without a lot of downtime.

And while it was their goal to get into the tower; reclaiming what they desired, they also needed to break the Alliance's forces that were currently surrounding it. There was a very good chance they might push it forwards if they're under attack.

But that was the point of the distraction after all, to lure the Alliance away and deal damage before they come to realize what was happening.

Vaylin paused as she felt it, like a ripple across the Force. Attuned to causing death as she was, the Zabrak could hear it, the destruction and death that followed in the path of the TIES attack on the village. It was a riveting sensation, one that tugged at her inner beast to sate her own hunger for death.

The anticipation built as the ship finally landed softly on the surface. A pause later, and the ramp lowered allowing the raging winds to burst into the hangar, the storm clashing angrily outside. Vaylin followed them out, but not before making her intent known.

"I'll be hitting their supply route, destabilize it as I make my way towards the tower."