Invasion Cleansing Fire | BotM Invasion of GA held Jedha and Jakku

[Tu'teggacha]

​

Location: Jedha, Dessicated Tablelands
Tags: Creuat | Lord Letifer | Tren Chaar | Asmundr Varobalder

Spoiler: TL;DR

• Tu'teggacha sends his air cover to chase Revenant Squadron

There was precious little that Tu'teggacha could do to affect the outcome of the desperate duel unfolding atop the World Devastator. Though he controlled the machine itself, using it to strip away the ancient heritage all around him by consuming statues and burying tombs, he could not do anything but watch as the Jedi and Sith atop it fought their struggle to the death. Indeed, he had felt removed from the battle as a whole since its beginning. The Alliance had made a fateful decision: that it was more important to protect the people, the inhabitants of New Jedha City, than the history, the monasteries and relics now being erased.

No one had contested the brutal deeds of the World Devastators, and that had consigned millennia of culture to the Mawite molecular forges. But perhaps it had been the right tactical decision in addition to being the right humanitarian one. Word from the city was not good. The Alliance had reunited its forces, GADF and Jedi fighting side by side once more despite their differences... and the Maw, for all its brutal power, could not easily stand against the unified might of a galactic government many times its own size. Some parts of Jedha would be lost forever, returned to the planet's dust... but the world itself might stand.

That could not be allowed to happen. The Maw must not be stopped.

Sensor pings blared out across the World Devastator's instrument panel, a grim warning: Revenant Squadron, those elite B-Wings that had menaced his forces at the Csillan Belt, were taking off from that distant monastery. The Taskmaster recognized their sensor profiles all too well. No doubt they were on their way to reinforce New Jedha City, the latest example of the Alliance deciding on what to prioritize protecting. With Butcher Squadron tied up fighting that lone enemy ace, Kaul "Joker" Emos , they couldn't prevent the B-Wings from slipping away... and the heavy craft would be devastating to the Mawite war effort here.

Nor were they the only incoming air support. Long-range sensors detected the X-Wing squadrons descending from the Alliance fleet... and Tu'teggacha could sense that their pilots were far from ordinary. Was there any greater symbol of the Alliance itself than a Jedi Ace? Even the elite, Force-sensitive Knyghts of the Maw were in danger when faced by such powerful and skilled pilots. Even with the Grand Overseer throwing significant TIE resistance at them, they were all too likely to pierce the Mawite blockade... especially if Revenant Squadron was able to link up with them, joining forces to devastate the Brotherhood air screen.

So Tu'teggacha did the only thing he could think of: he deployed the rest of the World Devastator's air screen. "To New Jedha City!" he commanded. "Intercept the Alliance forces! Do not allow them to break though!" If they did, the invasion might falter, might break... might even be turned back upon them. At his command, the great black cloud that was the Mawite escort streaked out across the desert, trying to intercept Tren Chaar and his Revenants. Thornwaves, Doomsayers, swarms of Darkshears to blot out the sun, all of them raced after the B-Wings as time ticked down. The fate of Jedha was at hand...

... and much of it would be decided from above.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

OLD SHADOWS
HOLY CITY
JEDHA
Bernard of Arca Jax Thio Harson Thaddeus
Marlon Sularen The Mongrel Kyrel Ren

Master San Tekka gripped a Maw raider with his mechanical arm. Black curses rebounded off the Jedi's impassive features until he saw no alternative and snapped the pathetic creature's neck. An ivory plasma blade plunged through one last fanatic then at last the Alliance command post was secure. Several troopers lay scattered among the dead. He could not help but recall historical accounts of the virulent rakghoul plagues. So many victims of the Maw on both sides of this terrorist campaign.

"Sun and stars," he greeted Asmundr Varobalder once the Prosperity drew near enough to defy enemy jamming, "Tythoni Square is lost. We cannot hold the Temple. Bernard...the Knight of Arca might be dead. I can no longer sense his presence."

Above him the skies were a maelstrom of clashing ships and dark storm clouds. Despite the TIEs overwhelming numbers they were hampered by the unleashed energies of their own fel allies which shrouded the burning holy city in unnatural shadow. As Zark boarded a GADF gunship he surveyed the Kyber Temple one last time and thought of Qiao Fang. Some things were worth defending no matter what.

"Move aside, pilot."

"Your spacecraft, General."

Even though Zark didn't like to fly he was still a Jedi Master. Very few pilots were skilled enough to overcome the Force. In memory of those lost he would ensure the innocents they died to protect made it offworld.

 

[Westenra Mina]

("The Cupboard" by Jerry Goldsmith Plays)


"Enough!"

Lynda, The Demon of Jedha turned to the source of the voice...a large cyborg. A large, damaged cyborg.

"Have you tired of fighting those who cannot possibly best you? Or is your cowardice such that you only seek battles which present no challenge?"

Her databases looped the record of her impaled pets at his words.

"You dare speak of cowardice?" The Demon of Jedha seethed, angling her sword at him. There was a very faint glint of purple at the center of bloodshot eyes, which only grew more visible due to the shadows of star fighters streaking overhead.

"After the Genocide at Lao-Mon. Whole families butchered by this trash around me at Coruscant...you dare complain?" The Android sneered. "Your three Avatars are lies. There will be no rebirth. Not for you, or any of this murdered filth around me you are so incensed about. You will die as the pawns you were born to be. In this universe. The God of Status Quo is greater than that Lie that promises you a new Galaxy. And I am it's enforcer..."

She calculated attack angles, surveying all the trajectories his arm cannon could fire from. The most frightening thing about the technology of Nine Lives was that you often were not aware it was technology unless you were in the know...

"Not much meat left in you..." she observed, intuiting that he was some sort of enemy champion. "Not that it matters..."

A wicked smile crossed the blood soaked Android's face.

"Come...join your savages in their irrelevance..."

She snarled and sprang towards him at super human speed, zig zagging to throw off the aim of The Mongrel 's arm cannon as she leapt for it with both weapons...

 

[Danika Leventis]

ALLIES: BOTM | NEW SITH ORDER | Whoever else is Maw side (I'm lazy)
ENEMIES: GA | NEW JEDI ORDER | Any other Light Side scum
ENGAGING: Aeris Lashiec | Arlo Renard
GEAR:

Spoiler

The Fortuna in orbit
Lightsabers
Phrik blades
Phrik dagger
Dressed to kill
Company from the Legion of Bone among which is the Ash Hellions led by Nathan Graves and a surprise for Aeris

O~~>BEGINNING OF THE END<~~O​

The searing Light had eased.

Alex's crumpled body was on fire as it lay at the mercy of Aeris' purified blade. Mercy that was most certainly not going to be shown, by the looks of it.

Resentment.

Anger.

Despite all her righteous talk and even the Light she had accumulated initially, Alex could feel the Darkness building ever so slightly. He had embraced it long enough to recognise the faintest of shadows. The Light she had executed, the purified blade she now wielded on him, was done for the reasons she had so long fought against.

Had fought alongside him against before his fall.

And sure enough, the blade hummed through the air as it swung toward his neck. He merely closed his eyes, too heartbroken and in physical pain to even try and counter it in any way, even if he wanted to. He merely waited for the sweet release that death would bring. The chapters of his troubled life being enveloped by the warm embrace of finality.

The Anchor to the Otherside was here to lead him there, after all.

But finality never came.

The sound of the blade extinguishing caused him to open his eyes. In front of him, Aeris was falling apart. The dam had finally broken. While it would have brought him some pleasure a few moments prior, it only settled a melancholy blanket over him. With all the shadow burnt away from his being, all he had left was regret.

"This life you thought you were building since we met is built on a foundation of hate and destruction." She sobbed. "I cannot follow you on that path."

He let out a sigh. All the anger, all the hatred, all the hurt, had been burnt to cinders. Where once he would have retaliated against those words, would have found a way to justify his actions, there was no resistance now.

He was a broken shell of the Guardian he used to be.

"I know you can't. I shouldn't have either." With a groan he struggled to his knees. He remained in a bent over position for a few seconds to just stop the world from spinning before sitting back on his heels. "No one will be continuing on that path today." he continued softly.

"Please," She begged. "Come with me. Back to how things were."

Blue eyes closed once more.

Slowly, he shook his head before looking back up at her.
"Aeris." he started hoarsely. "My Aeris. How I wish I could turn back time. But it will never be how it once was. You know that. Too much water has passed since." His voice cracked slightly. "I never should have turned my blade on you. I fell far. My motivations were selfish. I did them out of love, but they were selfish nonetheless." Tears started to drip down his cheeks. "You threw me into an even darker place. To have learnt that you have taken my saber. It stung. But it is strange how the Force works - I see that now."

Through the tears, a serene smile shone through.

All malice had dissipated from his heart as vengeful Light had burnt through him. Even as Jedha burned around them, the Temple crumbling into ruins and artillery fire thundered through the sky, peace had finally settled upon his shoulders.

"In love, you have felled me down. But in anger, you have brought quietude to my heart once more." he told her. "I will not let you have to choose between roads. Not again." He straightened his body from his heels. "Take care of the boy. He needs you more than I do."

"I have always loved you, Aeris. And I always will."

In a swift motion, he whipped a vibrodagger from the small of his back and plunged it into his chest.

Right into his heart.

The world burned.

Danika weathered the searing Light as it washed up against her shield, but it was no easy feat to accomplish before it died down. What shocked her, however, was the boy's reaction.

He was no longer in her head or in front of her.

When the Light died down, she lowered the shield and looked around, her blades still in her hands. It was chaos. Rubble and flames and explosions were all around. Yet through it all, she could feel Kai's turmoil.

Interesting.

She had no idea what he was. Merely that she had sensed the Dark taint on him. But she had been certain the true shadow had passed from him even before she crossed paths with him on Coruscant.

She harboured her own resentment towards him because of what he had done to her General and friend. But if the boy did have shadows within him that could be affected by the Light, then he would have hurt a lot more than she had. She had only caught stray bolts of Light and even that had left a mark on her inner being.

Her teal eyes finally found the Padawan curled up under some rubble a little ways off.

Danika's jaw clenched for a moment. It would be so easy to finish him off now, surrounded by her men. But did she really want to cement her servitude to the Keepers of the Netherworld and Beyond by adding the life of a misguided child into the mix of bodies she had piled up over the years? What would that achieve?

Korriban was on rinse and repeat this day on Jedha.

Yet another Jedi being spared her wrathful hand. How the hell did she keep getting herself into these situations? All of this could have been prevented if she had chosen to leave Dagon Kaze at the mercy of the unbridled power of Darkness in those tombs while she fled the scene.

She was most definitely going soft.

Fethit.

She extinguished her blades and clipped them to her belt before inching closer to the curled heap that was Kai. She stopped a few paces away and crouched down slowly, as if she was dealing with a skittish Fathier foal.
<If I promise to not use the Dark Side, will you allow me to heal you enough to grab your librarian friend and go?> she asked him. She did, after all, possess arcane skills of balance that she relied on as much as she did the Darkness she so often defaulted to.

One less brick on her road to damnation.

The fat lot of good it will do.

The paved road was a long one, after all.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

IT'S ALWAYS DARKEST BEFORE THE DAWN...​

Location: Kyber Temple

Spoiler: Personal effects

"ELOAH" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Starlight Sentinel, (Jedi Interceptor in the landing bay, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)

Foes: BOTM Darth Solipsis Danika Leventis Kyrel Ren Marlon Sularen
Allies: Dagon Kaze Zaka The Doppelganger Aeris Lashiec Bernard of Arca Jax Thio

”Heroism is endurance for one moment more.” - George F. Kennan​

What falls can be rebuilt, or at least that is what was believed. Caltin did not like the idea of what was happening but he was going to destroy the town to save it at this point. He knew what he was doing and knew all of the consequences and desired effects, but the big guy still did not like it. He would not dwell on the pain of losing such a piece of history, but again, it would be rebuilt. That in itself would allow the Temple to survive. The Sith would fail. That in itself would allow the people to survive. The galaxy would see the Brotherhood of the Maw driven back. That in itself would allow the planet to survive.

Even if Caltin didn’t.

The massive Jedi Master was about to reach for one of the support beams when he suddenly found himself immobilized. The Master of Ren had caught him in his grasp; Caltin wasn’t moving and in fact, was being pulled into the fall that Ren was about to embark on as well. He could protect himself through the Shield of the Force itself. What he didn’t expect was for Ren to give him a tongue lashing. Not in the generic sense but “Death Incarnate” had this tongue that could wrap around his leg and…

, what was it doing to his armor?

Oh really?

Pulling Conservator and igniting the blade, Caltin went to cut the appendage clean off. With his other hand, he would redirect lightning onto that same organ so that either way the big guy was not going to lose his leg. This was not to initiate some level of kind of escape; it was to keep the undead in front of him from trying to.

Who says I’m going anywhere?

Caltin was still being pulled through the Force; the funny thing though is he could break it in only one way. For him, that was the best way to settle this once and for all anyway. The big guy had a vision long ago of crashing into the ice and everything going dark. Jedi are taught not to dwell on these visions as they could tell but one of many possible futures, so he followed his teachings. The thing is though that the massive Jedi Master accepted this to be his fate, that he would die on this day. Well, that day came and went. He crashed into the ice and was frozen for well over eight hundred years; this was documents and already history. This also meant that at least to him, the big guy was living on borrowed time.
If he had to go down with him, Caltin was going to take Kyrel down.

Let’s go for a ride!

Using every bit of the Force at his control, Caltin used Kyrel’s grip and pull against him by leaping at the undead Sith and tackling him midair. Physicality would probably have little effect on Ren but it could keep him occupied on the fall. Ren may think that he still has the advantage and in some areas, he might be correct, but Caltin has never allowed disadvantages to hold him back they only pushed him harder. He did not die the last time and he may not die today. If he did then it would (hopefully) serve as a rallying cry to others.

Indeed, the town would be destroyed to save it.

​

 

[Harson Thaddeus]

• OBJECTIVE:
  • Consolidate Forces, Assist Evacuation, Relieve Tythoni Square.
• LOCATION:
  • GADF Army Jedha Temporary Headquarters
• ALLIES:
  • Bernard of Arca | Zark San Tekka | Gorthalon | Syndulla Command | Asmundr Varobalder | Westenra Mina | Jax Thio | Tren Chaar | Dagon Kaze | Zaka
• FOES:
  • The Mongrel | Keilara Kala'myr | Marlon Sularen | Kyrel Ren | Darth Solipsis |
• TL;DR:
  • Spoiler: Too Long, Didn't Read

    GADF begins second artillery bombardment of Mawite troops in New Jedha City (less effective than first)
    
    Harson's GADF Army forces in the city fortify consolidate a select few positions
    
    Civilians begin to evacuate via Prosperity-based shuttles from some of these positions
    
    Harson dispatches some infantry and mechanized brigades to assist in the defense of Tythoni Square (+evacuation of civilians there)

//>"Prosperity, this is Overlord, you couldn't have come at a better time. Requesting immediate air support for our artillery batteries as they're currently engaged with enemy TIEs, transmitting the coordinates now."<\\

At first sight of the Prosperity descending into Jedha's atmosphere, Harson had felt a collective sense of solace from around his command center. Now, the base was awash with activity, minutes earlier the General had given a stand-by directive for the base to be ready for a tactical relocation of its own in the event of a worst case scenario, perhaps even a full-fledged evacuation. The situation on the ground was looking increasingly grim, as reports flowed in from around the Holy Quarter of marauders pushing hard into Tythoni Square, and initial word from the Kyber Temple didn't give him optimism either. Although the Maw's hordes had been badly damaged by combined Jedi-GADF operations in New Jedha City, the fight was hardly won, that much was clear and present, and it was better to be prepared for things to deteriorate further.

Beyond the inner perimeter of the GADF Army's temporary installation, the massive artillery vehicles that had once been the bane of the Maw's existence, continued to be preoccupied with the Final Dawn's aerial assault. By this point, several of the guns had been put out of commission, and though a far greater number of TIEs had been shot down by their now rearranged anti-aircraft configurations, the flow of enemy starfighters seemed endless to the men on the ground. That was at least, until the first X-Wing had arrived, approaching from the horizon like an angel of war, several of the artillerymen had been unable to contain their celebrations as a flock of TIEs that had been about to strafe their position were scattered at the sight of airborne opposition.

The first X-Wing was joined by several others, and a proper air battle had begun, though some of the artillery guns continued to utilize their new configurations to assist their relief forces, taking down scores of TIEs on their own, the order quickly came through from Overlord to the battery commander. //>"Rancor Actual, Overlord. Return to initial artillery configuration and restore fulfilment of all pending fire missions, disregard pre-existing rules of engagement for New Jedha City and retain awareness for danger close operations, good luck, out."<\\ Though hesitant to cease firing on the TIEs above, and uneasy about pulling out his support for the X-Wings that had arrived to save them, the commander knew that this window of opportunity was increasingly unlikely to present itself again, given the heavy proliferation of Maw-affiliated air, and spaceborne forces in the battle-space.

If they were to strike again, it had to be now.

//>"This is Rancor Actual to all remaining combat effective Rancor victors, fit artillery configurations and carry out pending fire missions! Disregard pre-existing rules of engagement and retain awareness for danger close operations!"<\\ The commander relayed his message to the vehicles that had been able to remain functional through the Final Dawn's air sorties, which fortunately managed to account for over half of the original force composition, though only just, as the battery was down to around sixty percent combat effectiveness overall. Their bombardment wouldn't be as powerful as the first, but it would be better than nothing. The change of firepower had taken several minutes, while the situation at hand made them feel like hours, but the vehicles had gotten prepared regardless. Those that remained raised the heavy-duty barrels of their impressive cannons, and began to fire one by one onto the reported Mawite positions across New Jedha City, particularly in the Holy Quarter.

Elsewhere in the area of operations, Harson's GADF Army forces had been able to consolidate their positions without any major setbacks for the most part. Pushing through several groups of smaller, more scattered and disorganized marauders, separated from their larger formations by both the GADF's own intended artillery strikes, as well as during the general chaos of their own orbital bombardments. With limited resistance to their main battle tanks, armored vehicles and heavy weaponry, the combined arms battalions of General Thaddeus had thus far been able to secure a corridor between their headquarters, and the remaining Alliance positions in the city's Holy Quarter, allowing hundreds of yet to be rescued civilians safe passage to the newly arriving shuttles from the Prosperity, some of which were being directed to several more protected, though less formal evac sites across the corridor, as those in Tythoni Square found themselves under attack from the Maw.

In the corridor, the radios of numerous light infantry, and mechanized brigade commanders lit up as Harson made contact with them. //>"Overlord to all selected brigades on this channel. We have multiple reports of Maw incursions to remaining unextracted civilians at Tythoni Square and the temple, they're in need of immediate assistance. How copy, over?"<\\ While it risked overstretching the Major General's forces, evacuating the remaining populace of New Jedha City had become a priority one objective for GADF Army local command, as the symbolic nature of the Maw's barbaric strike on the city became more apparent. Harson would deny these savages their prize as best he could. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of crushing the defenseless here any further. Multiple responses in the affirmative returned to him over his headset, as numerous brigade-sized units made their way to the few points for evacuation that still existed in Tythoni Square, aiming to relieve whomever was left.

Harson stood at the center of his command hub, much of the equipment had begun to be packaged up and stored, ready for immediate transportation if-- or once-- the evacuation order was given for the headquarters. Most of the GADF Army forces still combat effective in New Jedha City had strengthened their foothold in the corridor between the Holy Quarter, and his headquarters, and while that had meant withdrawing from much of the rest of the city, it did make it easier to defend what they did hold, and to retreat in the event it was required. Which-- as he listened to the sound of the nearby artillery guns firing-- he hoped it would not be. They had already given up too much ground to these savages, he refused to entertain the possibility of giving up any further. Remaining security operations would begin to wrap-up, as the number of civilians still needing to be extracted lowered, and soon after that, he would need to decide on what to do.

​

 

[Laoth]

Equipment: Sword of the Tenth | The Panoply
Tags: Ishida Ashina | Tren Chaar
Location: JEDHA - Fighting Inside JEDI MONASTERY
Theme: Nameless Song​

---

More and more of the historical site shatters from the might of his exertion, black clouds seeping out into the lobby's air as the earth splits apart in the manner of surgical incisions. Sand, glass, and dust infect the air as the ground quakes into pieces, making it harder and harder to breathe comfortably - if that was even possible at this point, to begin with. The horned man looks to his foe, a sickened and pained smile - almost Cheshire-like - has broken his face in two.

In spite of her protests and attempts to stop him, he presses his fists deeper into the stone, almost burying them in the dead annals. Blood beyond reckoning pours from his wounds, staining the area around him with ink and pooling under him into inch-deep puddles; the veins in his head pulse with agonizing speed and pressure, his brain threatening to pop into an aneurysm; his ears ring into a skull-splitting ache; his vision doubles and then triples, eyes bugged so close to bursting in his sockets and rendering him blind. And yet he does not falter.

More ferocity pierces through the seals of his soul and mind. More misery is ejected from the center of his heart. Accepted and delivered, the anguish of thousands of years of ignorance, of hatred, of loathing is sent into the earth of this world that dared to stand remembered by the Galaxy. Fissures of unknown count break across the floor of the once magnificent monastery, and a horrific groan of crumbling earth and bending stone foundations echoes from the bowels of the largest in the center of the room. Soon, this place will sink and be forgotten once again.

“You have to stop! You’ll die here!”

The words of the radiant woman break into his cognizance once more, drawing a snarl and a shake of his head: "I will not die! I am Sith! I am Devaronian! I accepted it!" he retorts, righteous anger hot in his voice. "I accepted it! It is you who will die here, Jedi! Not me! Not ME!"

“You still have to learn!”

Something snaps when the woman says this. Something...old. Alone. The power within his body begins to subside almost instantly, the rumbling of the earth lessening but remaining all the same. Laoth starts to panic at this unusual development, one that is against his desires, and he wants to say: "Blast off woman. You die here today, and that is the end of it." But he cannot say it. He wants to say: "You're making my head hurt! Shut up and die!" But he cannot say that either. He wants to say: "What is going on? What are you doing to me?" But his throat catches the words and nearly chokes him.

When he does speak, he wants there to be a command in his tone, capable of inspiring fear and faith in his words. Like the voice that he heard in the darkness. But what is really delivered is the temper of a man, tired and confused. Lost in a world he does not recognize, surrounded by people he does not know. Out of his element. Just a man. Just a Devaronian. "What do I...have to learn?" he asks as the galaxy burns near and far. "What must...I do to...learn?"

The power has vanished entirely, and his reserves have finally neared empty - only enough in the tank to barely move to safety. Yes, the exhaustion that plagues him in the immediate aftermath of the attack is incomparable. Such that as the pebbles and shards from the cracking roof tumble down onto his form, breaking against his armor and his skin, he pays it no mind. He only mumbles and whispers his questions three times over to the woman who he backs away from, half-turning to the as of yet undamaged archway entrance. Vision is hazed, blurry, and dizzy. His legs wobble in their attempts to retain balance atop the crumbling surface as he rises to his feet. His hands have gone numb, clenched into knuckle-splitting tightness, and his ears are almost deaf. Everything within his body has grown cold, cold as ice. Blood has ceased its current within his veins, the rivers of black ichor frozen to his body with specks of frost.

He should, for all intents and purposes, be catatonic from the sheer agony his body is going through at the moment, but either sheer willpower or pure idiocy has kept him from realizing he needs rest. So he keeps himself standing, asking the questions again and again as the monastery continues its course of destruction.

 

[Dagon Kaze]

CLEANSING FIRE
THE GREAT ERROR vol. II
Issue #6 w/ Darth Solipsis & Zaka

why do we fall​

The amphistaff finds purchase in the daunting form of the Sith'ari and a blood-freezing roar of pain escapes the Sith Lord's lips rattling the crumbling foundations of the temple and splintering the Jedi's ears. The wall behind the Knight collapses and the floor gives in sending him tumbling a floor down and away. Almost drained of life, the hits his body sustains on its way down feel like mynock bites. A pile of stones stops his tumble with an eerie snap of his shoulder. He cries out, voiceless, and grinds his teeth till they break as he looks up.

Everything's falling apart.

The temple's giving in.

And yet, Solipsis' wail rumbles throughout the cacophony of chaos. Agony. Vulnerable.

Put an end to this monster while he's weak.

But the conviction is as much his as it is Zaka's, echoing through the empyrean.

Dag begins the crawl. Up. Driven by the Jedi's involuntarily shared conscious. Only up where this reign of terror could finally be put to an end. For his burning home of Coruscant - a righteous verdict, for the friends he's buried - a just retribution, for Yula's future - their future, for Jem - to free her of her father's curse. For the galaxy.

He crawls.

Nails dig deep into the dusty masonry until they peel blood.

He crawls.

The scorching sun of Jedha guides the way up, rays trickling more and more through the collapsing belfry.

The light paves the way until the roof is no more. The sudden flash blinds his eyes but clears his mind. Darkness gathers around the Sith'ari, summoned by his terrifying bellow. In his moment of weakness, unimaginable strength is conjured ready to lash out, ready to bring death once more.

But they can still pull it. Even if it cost Zaka's life. The final reckoning

He rebukes the moment of clarity but it refuses to concede against the battering of his sanctified duty. Tears swell his eyes, and he remembers. Remembers the mistakes, the failures. All so familiar to his current predicament.

They were three. The next generation of Jedi coming of age. Dagon Kaze, Djonas Val and Tycho Dijkstra. Level 3321. Hitting a spice den with Mando muscle. He's leading. The guy with the plan. The plan backfires and it's the mission or Tycho. Tunnel vision hits, duty prevails and he buries Tycho.​

​

They were two. The pair in love. Dagon Kaze and Ayana Vullen . Ossus, the courtyard of the Temple. Fighting his fallen twin brother Aeric Kaze . He's got to take him down. Brother against brother. He stares down the cerulean blade and lunges at his mirror image. She's force pulled into his way and the saber cuts through her heart. Duty prevails and he buries a love.​

​

They were one. Promised to be together through thin and thin. Dagon Kaze and Yula Perl . Krayiss III, the Sith library. The final battle against the Sith Empire. It's now or never. She's fighting her fallen cousin Zaavik Perl with the odds stacked against her. It's her or the mission. It's now or never. Duty prevails and he buries trust.​

​

With each tear streaming down his face, a memory resurfaces. A mistake reemerges.

"That may be so, but others look at you for strength and hope as well. To potentially sacrifice yourself when your allies and friends are willing to stand there with you leaves them with a feeling of emptiness and guilt if you were to fall."

And the Knight lets out a cry. In anguish and in regret. The Force, with what remained of his strength, swells around his arms as he crawls back up on his feet.

It's now or never.

His still working arm snaps forward and the ethereal wraps around Zaka and yanks him away from the Sith Lord - the maw of death, that ceaseless pit of darkness - and the curtain falls in the shapes of crumbling masonry between the forces of Light and Dark.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Gear: Equipment: Armour, Hold-out Bolter, Boltgun, Grenades, Sidearm, Sidearm 2, Sabre, Ion Paddle Beamer.
Enemies: Maw/Sith
Tegan Starfall

Death was not something Elpsis feared. She'd been to the Nether; she knew where she'd end up when she died. Death was not the final end. Besides, beating the crap out of her vile father's spirit again was not a bad way to pass time.

She didn't have to be here, fighting on a gods-forsaken desert planet to support a decrepit, ineffectual and corrupt government she wasn't even a citizen of. But then she wasn't fighting for the Alliance. Or for the profits of Firemane's scheming oligarchy, for that matter.

She could be sitting in a fancy villa, her every need catered to by pliable servant girls until she was just a pampered weakling obsessed with luxury and lucre. Or making a play for her comatose mother's position to become 'corporate queen' on account of her status as 'fire princess'. Both would just be vanity. Pointless, purposeless vanity. She gained satisfaction from burning bad guys.

One day, she'd die on a battlefield like this. Firemane would make another stupid propaganda movie about her 'heroism' to glorify itself, and milk her 'sacrifice' for as much as it was worth until it lost its lustre and they moved on. She accepted that. She'd be dying doing her duty. The buckshot struck, triggering the deadman's switch, the psychotic sorceress vanished, and there was a powerful explosion. Boom. The thing about thermal detonators was that while they were extremely destructive, they had a fixed explosive radius. Step out of that, and you'd be fine. The blast could only go as far as its blast radius, then the blast field would collapse.

Elpsis had her own unconventional skills. Fire was her primary element but not her only one. A spark of premonition told her was happening. And so she harnessed earth. In the moment the projectile hit home, the ground beneath her suddenly rose up into the air, lifting her up in the process.

Sweat dripped down her face, but the small pillar took her away just far enough from the blast. Dimly, she could perceive her badly wounded foe retreating. Elpsis was in no position to pursue though. Stalemate. Almost mutually destructive. The pillar lowered her back to the earth. One leg was totally useless; she could feel the other a little bit. She'd endure, as she always did. Just another day at work.

 

[Ishida Ashina]

A DARK SHADOW NEEDS LIGHT
JEDHA | JEDI MONASTERY
A DARK SHADOW NEEDS LIGHT TO EXIST
BUT LIGHT DOESN'T NEED DARKNESS TO BE LUMINOUS

Visceral hate lashes from his tongue in response to her pleas. Its pure, unadulterated rage. Vicious and petulant in its defiance.

Only her repetition of words he’d whispered to her earlier seemed to catch his psyche in a loop that turns more productive for either of them. She was shaking, he was shaking, the structure around them was shaking.

"What do I...have to learn?"

His posture becomes wilted, the outpouring of tremendous Force and loathing curling up, fading away, withdrawing back into himself.

"What must...I do to...learn?"

Dust and debris overhead continued to rumble, dropped corpses quivering against their lifeless will. The footing beneath them unstable and thrumming with the waves of his destruction.

“Wish I could tell you.” Ishida admitted, leaping forward to dodge a quickly falling stone that would have seen her skull crushed into oblivion. Her landing was in a crouch, still a ways from the reach of the Devaronian.

Even as debris rained from the ceiling, a few stones plunking harmlessly off his broad shoulders and mighty horns, the monolithic monster remained standing steadfast. The only thing that seemed to be moving about him was his mouth, opening and closing to mimic the questioning expression he’d had heartbeats before stopping his destructive whims.

Everything within her fought the contemplations of her next steps. Her urge for survival was starting to swell, overtake all rational thought and reduce her to nothing more than a primal weapon. She’d already delivered mercy to him once, and it had been at the expense of him coming undone and delivering the greatest blast of darkness Ishida had ever experienced.

She could try and run past him, but he was so...obtuse. And blocking the slowly waning entrance.

“Augh!” She hissed, snapping an arm up over herself to create a defensive barrier once more. A crescent arced over her arm, covering her head and upper body as she crouched and started to crawl forward toward the entrance and the inevitable confrontation once more of the monster.

There would be no getting past him.
Even if she did manage to slip by, she’d be plagued with the guilt of another failure. Another servant of darkness left behind or who’d descended even deeper into the mires of malfeasance because she’d let her need to triumph obfuscate her sights on what truly needed to be done.

With a groan, she exhaled through the reluctant hesitation in her muscles and shifted the trajectory of the Force-born shield that arced over her person. For a second or two, it was held in front of her before she flexed strength forward and imagined a powerful push. A rolling, telekinetic typhoon ripped through her core, forward and outward toward the lug in her way. It encompassed him, as well as several loose or falling stones, and belched them back out the mouth of the temple she’d been thrown in not long ago.

Ishida darted forward on the coattails of the invisible wave, rushing swiftly and zig-zagging like a cat to avoid any further falling debris that would end her day awfully. Her final steps out of the monastery were tripped up by larger stones that she’d rolled there, or had fallen from the crumbling caused by the devaronian. She slipped through the rolling sand out into the darkened, burning skies. Only with momentum and a catch of her hand did she manage to stay upright and run, run, run past the fallen Sith.

He wouldn’t learn if he was dead, that’s why she’d blasted him out of the cave.

Whatever was missing in his life, that sense of completeness, he’d have to discover on his own.

As for her? She kept running, racing away from the fallen Sith and the crumbling ancient site.

---

ALLIES | NJO | GA| Tren Chaar mom pls pick me up I'm scared
FOES | BOTM | Laoth

​

 

[Arlo Renard]

Objective I: Defend the City
Location: On a street outside the Temple of the Kyber
Tags: Danika Leventis Aeris Lashiec

Kai’s flesh bubbled and writhed, burned by the Light. Foul-smelling black blood leaked in rivulets from ruptured vessels below the surface. Unlike when Danika had hit him with a blast of energy, there was no visible regeneration of his injuries. It was too slow to be seen.

Danika’s approach with her blades drawn prompted him to raise his head. Whether she planned to kill or capture him, he didn’t know, but he would fight back, through the pain and the blood. He wanted to live, and he wanted to live free.

Instead, she deactivated her lightsabers and offered to heal him and give them both an opportunity to escape. Kai turned toward Aeris, sensing an intense anguish from her.

<Yes,> he blurted. <We’ll go.>

Once Danika had worked her magic, Kai bolted from his hiding place, running toward Aeris. He saw the corpse of Alex Mortimer, run through by his own hand, but his focus was mainly on his librarian friend. Grabbing Aeris, he moved to carry her away, whether she wanted to go or not. He had a bargain to uphold, after all.

 

[The Mongrel]

Location: Jedha, New Jedha City
Engaging: Westenra Mina
Nearby: Keilara Kala'myr | Zark San Tekka | Bernard of Arca | Harson Thaddeus

Spoiler: TL;DR

• The Mongrel loses an arm to Westenra's blades
• He thrusts the mangled end of the arm at her, trying to electrocute her

"I am confused," The Mongrel replied when Westenra's little tirade was done, an amused smirk on his synthflesh face. "Was our butchery and genocide noteworthy, or are we irrelevant? It seems to me that both cannot be true." Nor would she have kept showing up in battle after battle, fighting the Maw over and over, if they'd been irrelevant. There was one thing he agreed with her about, however: she was an enforcer of the God of the Status Quo, that decrepit, corrupt force that kept the same people in power for millennia.

People like her, warriors of stasis who destroyed the potential for change, were the Maw's great enemy. They were the reason that the Jedi and Sith had been fighting the same wars for almost thirty thousand years, the reason the galaxy never moved on from those antiquated traditions even when one - or both - of them was pushed to the edge of extinction. So long as people like her kept succeeding, those battles would never end... and ordinary people would never stop getting squashed in the middle, pawns in their eternal conflict.

But not in the Galaxy To Come.

By the time he'd finished speaking - taunting, really; perhaps Yula Perl 's snark had rubbed off on him, infecting him with her incredible ability to be verbally irritating - The Mongrel could see that the butcher was charging right at him, far faster than any ordinary being could physically achieve. But he was used to that by now. Spend long enough in the company of sorcerers - or, in his case, fighting them - and very little could surprise you any more, even feats that appeared impossible. He knew instantly that he'd never hit her.

So he didn't try.

She came at him with both weapons bared, swinging for his arm cannon. He let her, not even trying to evade the double strike. He had almost nothing left to throw at her; his other internal weapons had been disabled by the technopathic attack, still marked in angry reds and oranges on his Heads-Up Display. There would be no more micro-grenades or jets of flame or gouts of adhesive. It would be like the old days, before he'd been placed in this cybernetic body, when he could rely only on his cunning and willingness to sacrifice.

So he let her cut clean through the arm.

Saber and katana slashed apart The Mongrel's forearm, annihilating the cannon, leaving him nothing below the elbow but a sparking mess of severed wires... just as he had planned. By permitting the damage, he had made his own weapon. With a savage grin, the cyborg warlord thrust the mangled end of his arm at Westenra - and redirected power to it. Electricity leapt from the opening, trying to power a limb that was no longer there, and set the wires flailing like the tentacles of a stinging jellyfish. Each one bore a lethal charge.

Enough to stop a heart, or fry internal systems.

Perhaps the wires would hit her; she'd gotten pretty close, to be able to strike him with a blade. Or perhaps she would be able to twist out of their reach before they struck her, in which case it would at least drive her back by forcing her to dodge. The Mongrel doubted that anything left in his arsenal could actually kill her, or even hurt her badly... but every second she was fighting him was a second she wasn't massacring his warriors, buying them just a little more time to push through the Alliance checkpoints and secure the city.

Maybe just a little more would be enough.

Or perhaps it wouldn't matter at all, for at that moment, the second Alliance artillery bombardment began. Artillery shells fell once more on the devastated streets, the howls and booms of the barrage drowning out the screams of the maimed and dying. The Mongrel felt his hope souring in his mechanical heart. The Alliance was marshaling its strengths, advantages that the Brotherhood could not easily counter: range and armor. Even if he could hold this champion of carnage here, even if he could buy time... would it even be enough?

 

[Halketh]

HOLMGANG
DARK LORD OF THE SITH
DARTH CAELITUS
The Aegis of Woe | Ace | Lightsaber
The Perished | 296/330
JEDHAMOUR TEARS - SIA BLACKSITE
Valery Noble | Taiia Locke | Ripley Kühn

​

The legions of undead eradicated the defenses in the immediate entryway, nothing but corpses left in broken pieces behind their bloodied trail. Body parts, some recognizable, others too mangled to comprehend lay strewn in the darkness, tripping up the remaining survivors who attempted to flee deeper into the facility to escape their inevitable doom. One such soldier was Junior Operative Castellanos, a recruit fresh out of training, who just so happened to be shadowing her senior this day- the day that the galaxy opened its Maw and spewed Darkness from its vile throat. Dazed, the woman stumbled through the growing darkness, unsure of where it was the lights went, unsure of where it was her senior agent went, and only sure of one fact: death was bearing down on her and there was little she could do to stop it. These soldiers if she could even call them that, were unstoppable.

It didn't matter how many shots from her blaster struck them, they just kept running at her. Panic had bubbled to the forefront of her consciousness, overriding the dedicated conditioning, overwhelming the sense of discipline, and stripping away her power. It had the moment the site had been breached, a gnawing dread had crept its way from her guts along her spine, each little prickle of ice chilling her freezing muscles deeper, every touch of the Dark presence had only laid bare what it was she feared the most. She had sworn an oath, taken up arms, done her part, done everything that she had been told to do and none of it had prepared her for this moment. Wounds left bloody ribbons in her wake, her scrambling dash taking her over another hurdle to thrust herself roughly upon the ground opposite of it, and scurry to hide.

Choking breaths were controlled, the agent taking back control of what she could, managing to stomach the putrid stench of rotten flesh and the overwhelming metallic taste of copper permeating the air long enough to cease her gagging. They were getting closer, their heavy boots thundered in the corridor, smacking at the walls, and echoed high off the ceilings above. Hazel eyes shifted quickly to her surroundings, and at once, did both hands clamp over her mouth to muffle the yelp of horror which escaped. She was taking refuge behind a pile of corpses. A gurgling breath took close for comfort urged her down onto her belly, pressing herself into the viscera and filth, hand still clasped over her lips. 'Don't breathe, don't breathe, don't breathe....' she told herself over and over, struggling to feign death in the very face of the unliving force itself.

"I hate you. I hate you and all the others that came before you."

The Dark Lord bellowed a dry, mocking laugh at her statement, delighting in the peril she exposed beneath her flesh. He felt the turmoil rise, her malice boiling to a breaking point, and knew full well she was poised upon the precipice of temptation. He pondered in silence then, what she might do, would she act as her emotions saw fit, or would she further cripple herself by the bindings of false justice? The Force churned around him, tightening against the exterior of his armor, compressing inward. Beneath his grim visage, he could only smile brightly. 'Do it, then. Succumb to your instinct, suffer for me, for the foe you hate.' But alas, the Light blinding her from the truth shone too brightly. She could not do it.

She did something most expected then, hurling that courageous blade toward him. He prepared himself to seize the plasma in a hand, expecting the Shadow to be fully behind it, but as that clawed gauntlet stretched forth, he sensed her Presence lagged behind it. Unexpected. Concentration became him, his focus honing to decipher the meaning of the trickery with a quickness, however, her decisive strike had fooled him well. The shattering saber burst with its scrapped energy, throwing the Dark Lord from his stance and batting him away from her. With him, so too went the undead hordes in her immediate vicinity.

The sound of his saber's skitter across the floor echoed from shadows far.

Caelitus groaned, his keen ears violated by the sound of the explosion, his flesh battered beneath his smoldering armor, but he arose yet still. "You claim to hate, yet your words ring as hollow as the souls in this chamber," the Saint iterated, idly scraping the embedded shrapnel of her saber hilt and rock from his chestguard with curled fingers, "you are as I was, once. What is it that drives you onward, to endure your pain, hm? It is not hatred, do not fool yourself, it is something far more fickle." Within his Sight the brilliant Light manifested, painting her form in flickering hues of solar gold and lunar fire, once more she became the beacon of hope soiling his bastion of despair. "You call upon the love that flutters your heart to steady it in times of need, and look at all the good that harvest has wrought you. Alone in the dark, wounded, and nearly falling to corruption with the slightest prod from the right mind."

His blood-splattered gauntlets folded before his chest, fingers interlacing vertically. There was a pause from him, his silhouette ominously growing to little more than a gargoyle in the flickering passes of light. "Shall we face your fears together?" He purred, his interwoven digits and hands sweeping into a series of wicked gestures, his talons banding and flexing with expertise in the arts he invoked. His focus trained on her, his ire felt through the threads of fate connecting the two of them, as the sorcerer attempted to breach the very depths of the Shadow's mind to invoke her darkest fears.

// Allyson Locke \\
​

 

[Laoth]

Equipment: Sword of the Tenth | The Panoply
Tags: Ishida Ashina | Tren Chaar
Location: JEDHA - Almost Comatose Outside JEDI MONASTERY
Ambiance: Warzone​

---

In his stupor, he fails to prepare. The orb of pure desperate energy collides with his body, sending ripples of power through his sternum and nearly cracking his ribs. It propels him back out of the monastery. He flies like a javelin, arcing through the air with such perfect angling one might have assumed this was the Jedi's true intent. Armored pauldrons, back muscles, and his backside collide with the cracked stone of the entryway, his horns carving their initials through what remained of the ancient construction. He slides with thunderous momentum, croaking out barely audible hisses as the sand and what debris came with him in the form of stone digs deeply into his back, adding their own texts to the manuscript of his injuries. He is only stopped when his horns - as unbreakable as Beskar - dig their beds into the sand so deep that his easement of motion causes him to flip up onto his head and down onto the front side of his body. Trickles of mucus and blood run from his nose, his lungs gaining new layers of sand to coat their tubes.

His mind falls into a state of unconsciousness he has never felt before. Speared.

A howling in the wind of his cavernous brain. A howl...th-th-that...c-ca-carries his n-n-n-name.

Dreams rise and fall in seconds. Midnight black. N-n-no t-time to dr-dr-dream.

Contemplation of the events is perpetual. To think on the pain. There is time for that. Laoth.

Heat. It all began with fire. Blood and flames. The crashing of a ship, split in two by an impatient man wanting to get straight to the slaughter. A man was unfrozen from his time-locked prison and the first thing he thought of doing...was to kill. Maim. He got his wish. Several lay dead at his feet now, their tallies marked only by him only for a moment before they simply became numbers he would forget. Statistics that would only get them a medal or ribbon apologizing for their untimely death back on the homeworlds of this blasted Alliance. Their families would mourn and then replace them in a generation or two, or their families would die off and they would all be forgotten. Everyone would be dust in the end. Ashes left by the inferno.

And so, what is the point of it all? What is the point of such needless chaos when even someone like Laoth - a man so lost in his own imbecilic mind - can be bothered by it on some basic primal level in his mutated reptilian brain? He who understands only pure undying hatred for the enemies of bygone eras because of a personal history he can no longer process beyond levels of: "they hurt me one time and that was bad." Some might say that it is because of that drowned part within his core that refuses to be snuffed out entirely. The part that is screaming at every chance it can to try to get him to stop and think. The part that can even very rarely take over his verbal functions for enough time so as to relay something beyond incoherent monkey screeching. The part that allowed that blighted but radiant woman to best him in combat.

But is it? Is it that, really? Or is it that in one battle, in one moment of carnage, this man with a peanut for an active cognizance of the world was able to recognize that the only result of this battle is...dust. Ashes left by the inferno. There will be no honor for a warrior like him. There will be no celebrations with people like him. There will only be ashes left by the inferno, caking his tongue in its grime and blinding his vision with the stinging fact even a simpleton like him can understand. That no matter what, the pain he has to endure will always be there even as a drooling mass of beefed-up meat.

You can still learn.

Accept it.

LAOTH!

The horned man's eyes shoot open to the sight and stinging of sand. His hands flatten against the desert surface and he is quick to push himself up to a kneeling position, blood slowly dripping onto the powder beneath him from his clotting wounds. Breaths come rapid and ragged as do the coughs, which are also slightly thick with chunks of sand - these spew in front of him in splashes of black spraypaint. Rising to his feet is an arduous effort, especially as the rumblings of the still collapsing monastery - of which is currently shooting round after round of debris at the horned man's vicinity - shake and shudder the earth. He spits the last grains of the desert from his throat as a glob on some pieces of the debris bearing broken symbols and scripture. One final act of desecration before he returns his one-tracked mind to his enemy. The radiant woman who is nowhere to be seen anywhere around him.

​

Screams of confusion and turmoil in the distance draw his gaze eastward. Further into the portion of the monastery's outskirts that had been relatively spared destruction from the Maw and the ships. A mass of equipment lies there, hounded by a small horde of half-living beasts, all of them clamoring up at some...thing...

"Sneaky mouse," he chuckles with a grave tone as his eyes fall upon the climbing form of his foe. A large series of abandoned lifts had spirited her up into the sky towards a quite intact bridge or beam that connected a massive statue to the rest of the monastery's walls. She must have done this while he was recuperating, hoping to escape the fight and leave him behind. "I'm afraid...you aren't...getting away th-that easy."

Laoth shoots his hands out to his sides and inhales deeply. Pained, ragged breathing in as rhythmic a fashion as he can muster. For one last time, the horned man begins to call upon the anger that had been boiling inside him since his fight with the woman began. He calls upon the agony of every scratch, gash, scar, and slice. He draws up the remaining burning of the blood still beating weakly inside his body. The befuddlement of every strike missed or hit, every confusing memory or thought or word he had spoken this day. The laughing, chortling, jeering, and cheering of the wall of skulls only he can see. Each sensation that nearly overwhelmed him to the breaking point. An unbridled passion that still threatens to pop his brain like a tick and send him spiraling into an aneurysm and overdue grave.

All coalescing into one final attack. One last effort to put this woman down. The knowledge of the power he intends to use is - expectedly - lost to him, for it comes to mind like an instinct or muscle memory. An enemy holding at long range can only be dealt with via attacks that can cover such range, and very few attacks in the Force have that capability. Lightning perhaps would do the trick, but it is too chaotic for his weakened state to uphold. Telekinesis requires similar extended concentration. Abilities that would...alter the reality around him are not viable at this time either. There is only one power that can work.

Laoth immediately adopts the necessary stance, holding his right arm at an obtuse angle and elevating it behind his head whilst putting his left foot forward and bending both knees slightly. His left arm is extended in front of him, fingers used as a guide towards the woman who continues to grow more and more distant across the beam - which she has now reached effortlessly. Surging all of his collected power to his right arm, Laoth holds his breath. Waiting, spiting the scorching suffocation of his sanded lungs. His eyes are furrowed and keen like a wolf's, his teeth bared like a lion's, and his hearing as acute as a molerat's. One shot. One chance. One opportunity. Fingers crack into position, bent to produce the symbol of old to channel this power. A moment passes, a distant thud of a mortar round punctuating the quiet.

The spear forms outward from the center of his palm, taking shape in the darkness that none can perceive. Laoth grins in his breathless silence and his eyes blacken.

One step forward. Second step. Third step. On the fourth, he lunges and throws the Darkshear toward his foe, enhancing its speed even further with the last vestiges of energy he has. He immediately collapses to his knees, eyes rolling back into his head, and retches crimson onto the sand before him, unable to know if his attack struck true.

 

[Jax Thio]

Location: New Jedha
Equipment: Jedi Armor, DL-44 Heavy Blaster Pistol, Jax's Prosthetic Arm, Jax's Second Lightsaber, Promise Ring to Jairdain
Tag: Zark San Tekka , Rann Thress , Bernard of Arca , Marlon Sularen (Enemy)


A rush of blaster bolts came whizzing towards Jax, the Jedi immediately began to deflect the bolts each one of them going in radically different directions. The force of the blaster bolts was strong considering that it was fired from an automatic pistol. Jax suspected that they were specialized rounds possibly Durasteel Slugs that type of ammo was capable of packing a punch. The Jedi Master continued to hold his ground attempting seize the momentum of this onslaught of rapid fire. Reaching into the Force, Jax guided his blade to blocking all angles trying to redirect at least a blaster bolt towards Marlon.

"Now I really wished I studied Soresu," Jax thought as the rate of fire from Marlon's continued to somehow increase. Quite a modification he had, Jax could buckle down and waited out but it would've taxing. Jax needed to advance with each movement of his blade Jax managed to catch the bolt and bat it away before it penetrated his defense. Still reaching out to the Force, Jax continued to bide his time until he saw an opening.

"NOW!" Angling his blade, Jax redirected the blade, the bolt bouncing off the tip of the yellow saber and headed straight for Marlon's left knee. However as he did so, one of the bolts pierced Jax's right shoulder going through armor piece and melted through his skin and gnawing at his Collar Bone.

The Jedi Master cried out in pain a surge of anger taking over his mind. Keeping his Lightsaber gripped around his normal hand, Jax raised his prosthetic arm using the Force to grab at Marlon's throat and to crush his throat. If he were to crush his voice box though it would be nice, Marlon would've had to use a rebreather.

 

[Kaul "Joker" Emos]

Tren Chaar , Ishida Ashina , Siloh Riain, Laoth (Enemy), Tu'teggacha (Enemy)


Kaul expected the enemy squadron surround him cutting off his escape and fire and they did in a classic box in play: Two up, two on each sides, and two in the bottom. His mind was already trying to think ten steps ahead of the squadron, perhaps he'll just do the old loop trick he created while he was at the flight academy. Specifically where he unloaded an unfired proton torpedo did a half loop and fired upon it using the blast radius to destroy scrambled fighters. Sure that maneuver got Kaul suspended for having a mind of his own but it could work...... right? However the fighters began to unleash a volley of bomblet generators. The pilot growled, this gimmicky chit? These bombs were favored by pirates and mercenaries due to it being cheap to produce. The bombs were drawing power from the ships reactor core, such a core can get unstable and will react in a nasty way when interacting with explosives.

"Bomblet Generators," Kaul sighed retracting his S-Foils. "They're more annoying than deadly."

Under a lesser pilot, they would've died, but with a talent Kaul they were just in his way. "R4!" Kaul said as the shockwaves created a large field of electromagnetic energy. "Set all shield power to thrusters! It's gonna get tight!"

In a split second, Kaul blasted his X-Wing through the seams of the shock waves. Some of the artillery grazed Kaul's hull but it was only superficial. "Time to get a little creative!" Kaul unloaded the proton torpedo as soon as he got out but he didn't aim at anyone in particular.

Using the momentum of the surging thrusters, Kaul went up in the air again the torpedo slowly heading to two fighters ahead. "Putting S-Foils in attack position!" Kaul yelled pressing a button unlocked the seals. With another launch of his torpedo, Kaul this time aimed it at the Torpedo he just launched earlier and fired. The torpedo streaked towards its target creating a large explosion that took out two fighters simultaneously.

"HELL YEAH!" Kaul yelled out unleash a volley of blaster cannon shots to take out a third. "THAT'S SKILL THERE CHITHEADS!" Kaul laughed while R4 reset the shields.

Now this was fun again.

 

[Taiia Locke]

//: Allyson Locke //: Halketh //:​

From the moment the bombs started detonating Taiia retrieved the little droid and teleported clear of the black site. A green vapor wrapped around her form as she disappeared, before reappearing some distance from the facility. She glanced back as the explosions continued, she should have checked on the others but there was a far more serious matter demanding her attention. What demanded her attention was a certain brunette some distance away from her, she could be at her side quickly but not quick enough.

Through their bond, she felt the pain that Allyson was going through but also the growing fear. She knelt on the ground and set the little spider droid next to her. It skittered around her slightly confused by her actions before climbing up and sitting on her shoulder as if concluding this too was important. the emerald green eyes closed as she stretched out her senses toward Allyson and her opponent. Taiia lifted a single hand green flame bursting to life in her open palm. "Eirine. I need you, go to Allyson at once. Please." the flame took a shape of a small white convor it looked up at Taiia for a moment as if assessing before extending her wings and flying up into the air and towards Allyson.

That task done, Taiia focused on Allyson reaching through the shared bond. She began to pour her power through it and began to bolster her abilities strengthing Allyson's body and reactions allowing her to move past her physical limits. As she did this she also touched the brunette's mind.

<"My love don't give in to fear. I am giving you all I can but you have to face this on your own.">

A reminder was what was needed, of what the woman believed. They were not hers, not any longer but she began to recite it to Allyson.

<"There is no emotion; there is peace.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no passion; There is serenity.
There is no death; there is only the Force.
A Jedi does not act for personal power or wealth but seeks knowledge and enlightenment.
A Jedi never acts from hatred, anger, fear, or aggression but acts when calm and at peace with the Force.
Jedi are the guardians of peace in the galaxy.
Jedi use the powers to defend and to protect, never to attack others.
Jedi respect life, in any form.
Jedi serve others rather than ruling over them, for the good of the galaxy.
Jedi seek to improve themselves through knowledge and training.

Now, get up and kick his ass.">

 

[Aeris Lashiec]

Danika Leventis
Arlo Renard

"What are you—"

Her heart sank in an instant. She tried to reach out and stop the motion from behind Alex's back but before she had placed her hand on his wrist it was already too late. Another devastated exhale parted her lips as the tears that already flowed down her cheeks began to burn like the thousand fires of Mustafar. She couldn't breathe anymore, she couldn't act or move or even speak. The pressure choked on her throat, air became a struggle as she gagged from the phantom wound in her chest.

"Alex…" She whimpered. "No…"

As she was about to kneel down, as she was about to do anything at all she felt a small frame latch onto her to try and take her away. She had let them do it last time only to have her heart broken apart later. Kai had good intentions but Aeris didn't want them. She wanted Alex, she wanted him alive. As he began to move her away she pushed back aggressively until she broke free. This time there would be an ending, once and for all.

Her eyes stared into Alex's lifeless blue eyes and she swallowed hard to let the tears run for a moment before she moved to pull the vibrodagger out, closed his eyes, placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and picked up his corpse.

"Never again."

That was all she said, all she could manage as she stepped away from the scene with a determined stride fueled by her anger. At this point she didn't care. They could kiss her ass if it went against some moronic code upheld by some long-forsaken Jedi Order. This man had loved her once, same as she had loved him. That had to count for something, that had to mean something more than an epitaph in a goddamn chamber, bound to be blown up in one attack or the other.

Kai was handed the guide role for their way out of here. It was clear that Aeris was not in an approachable mood right now, and by all accounts it would be some time before she was again.

 

[Boluc Laar]

X E S H _ O N E
TASK FORCE XESH
JEDHA

Indifference is what he felt.

He didn’t feel any particular emotion when his plan was in set. Didn’t feel an abundance of joy or guilt when the detonators planted strategically around the blacksite began to activate and release its kinetic power full of different chemicals perfectly constructed to explode and consume what it touch with unforgiving flames.

It would be an indiscriminate rampage against any caught within it. Jedi, SIA personnel, and zealots of the Maw. They’d all share the same fate caught in the explosion.

"The Jedi! They'rre still inside!"

A shame that would be disturbed when the golden woman jumped in haste at him.

“What the-“

His sentence incomplete when he fell from his feet and the illusionist on top, both fighting for the detonator in his hand to prevent his plans. He didn’t think of her as a Jedi sympathizer, and she was acting out on her last mission. She was promised liberty after this mission, all of this would be behind her and she could continue a life of piracy and crime to serve her interests. All she had do to was be in line and not act out against her superiors.

She robbed herself from that freedom.

His free hand balled into a fist and launched at Maijan from where he was on the ground. All he had to do was make her recoil from the punch and give him the chance to let it loose.

Once he had the chance his thumb would release destructive explosions around the base, all perishing within it with slim chances of surviving. Lucky those that did to rise from the debris and ashes of the wreckage.

“Boom.”​

ALLIES | GA | NJO | Maijan Paisea | Allyson Locke | Valery Noble | Ripley Kühn
ENEMIES | MAW | Maestus | Darth Kentarch

 

[Tren Chaar]

C O M B A T _ C O N T R O L

JEDI MONASTERY, JEDHA
B-WING HEAVY STARFIGHTER​

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Strike Team Vos en route to evacuate Jedha City (X)​

Revenant Squadron’s One Flight and the shuttles of Strike Team Vos streaked across the dusty surface of Jedha toward the city. While the pilots flew guided by advanced avionics systems, they were hardly necessary - the massive plumes of smoke rising from the Brotherhood’s destruction could be seen from kilometres away. It took nerves of steel - or in Chaar’s case, a relentless drive for glory and accolades - to head toward a situation that normal people would run from.

They were halfway to the city when the starfighters of Tu'teggacha descended on them. The air around them exploded as anti-starfighter missiles exploded, some missing to crater the surface of Jedha. The special forces pilots at the controls of each shuttle scattered their formation and pushed closer to the deck, angling their course toward the ravines to the east. “Revenant, Vos Six-One, get these guys off us!”

“Wilco,” Chaar replied flatly to the lead shuttle pilot. The B-wings of One Flight, better suited for anti-capital ship warfare, could at least buy the shuttles time to get into the ravines where they would have a measure of cover.

“Overlord, Revenant Lead,” he announced as he switched to the Jedha City com which Major General Harson Thaddeus was using to coordinate the evacuation. “Be advised, extraction shuttles approaching from the south.” The combat controllers of Strike Team Vos had room in their dropships for a dozen survivors each, two dozens in they squeezed them in and dumped some cargo.

Chaar wheeled around his B-wing to face the Brotherhood starfighters, leaving the shuttles as they sped toward the city.

It was time to go to work.

Having snapped of a grouping of torpedoes to scatter the enemy in the last few battles, Chaar instead went straight to blasters and set his four heavy laser cannons to shutter cycle fire. In an instant One Flight filled the air in front of them with a wall of red laser bursts. The four B-wings quickly broke by wing pairs, the aerodynamic blade design of the heavy starfighters handling well in-atmosphere versus ships designed for vacuum.

The Umbaran felt his starfighter rock as the Brotherhood pilots splashed his shields with weapon blasts. The enemy was hungry for the Alliance at Jedha, and was throwing a tidal wave of forces at them. Chaar tightened his grip on the yoke as he flittered between the Brotherhood starfighter, his finger rarely leaving the trigger. The target-rich environment suited the B-wing and its array of bristling weapons.

One Flight punched through the enemy formation and slowly lopped back to reengage. The shuttles of Strike Team Vos had made it to the safety of the ravine, albeit with a small enemy pursuit force. It was up to the skilled pilots to make it to Jedha City in one piece.

Chaar dove back down through the cloud of enemy buzzards, his wing-tip laser cannons running red hot as he sprayed deadly bolts across targets of opportunity. The three other members of One Flight were cutting similar swaths through the enemy lines. His provisional kill counter - the final total would have to be certified from gun camera footage post-battle - slowly ticked up. Hungry for another combat citation, Revenant Leader wove between the enemy, hunting for kills.

“Revenant Leader, Lorgnette,” came the unexpected voice of a GADF sensor operator over Chaar’s comlink. “We have possible ID on a survivor fleeing the monastery, I say again, possible ID on survivor fleeing the monastery. Can you confirm?”

Chaar cursed. He was in the flow, blasting Brotherhood starfighters by feel as much as skill. If he bailed now, the glory would go to his wingmates - unacceptable.

“Revenant Leader, Lorgnette. This is a priority tasking.”

He cursed again as he pulled back on the control yoke and swung his B-wing up and out of the enemy starfighter swarm. The distraction would be temporary and easily resolved with one flyby, who could possibly still be at the Jedi Monastery? Every member of Strike Team Vos has been accounted for…

Except for the Jedi.

Grimacing, Chaar swopped toward the crumbling building. Explosions rocked his ship as Brotherhood gunners found their mark, his battle computer displaying the enemy was in hot pursuit. Sure enough, a single figure was racing across the forecourt below him. With the enemy hot on his heels, Chaar didn’t have time to put down safety and extract her.

A crazy thought flashed into his mind.

Bringing his ship closer to the surface. Chaar disengaged his strike foils, bringing them flat against the B-wings hull. He rotated the starfighter so its long axis was parallel to the ground, his gyroscopic cockpit retaining its natural orientation. The flat, blade-like vessel skimmed meme metres above the desert surface of Jedha straight toward the Jedi.

“C’mon, jump you fool.”

He hoped that rumours were true, and that Jedi actually could read minds.

Galactic Alliance: Ishida Ashina | Kaul "Joker" Emos | Siloh Riain
Brotherhood of the Maw: Laoth | Tu'teggacha
​