Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Cleansing the Haunted Moon [Foundation of the Lightsworn.]

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There was once a time when I considered myself a Hero. It was a different Galaxy back then, where the lines between 'Good' and 'Evil' were clearly defined. The Sith were the embodiment of 'Evil,' as they laid waste to the entirety of the Inner Spheres of the Galaxy. None were spared or given a reprieve from their voracious conquests. Worlds were stripped bare for their resources, and populations were harvested to fuel their ever-growing war machine. It was a dark time for the disparate, and myriad species populating the stars. The Jedi, broken by pride, stood as the acclaimed embodiment of 'Good' - seeking to defy the fate that had been thrown on their shoulders. I had the potential to become one of these supposedly noble Guardians but chose a different path, one that I believed would see a shift in the balance of power.

Through my native world's love of the ocean, I was considered to be a natural behind the control yoke of a Starfighter. Thus, my natural-born talent found me in the cockpit of an X-wing - flying in tandem with the legendary pilots of Rogue Squadron, who swore allegiance to the Galactic Alliance. From there, history unfolded before our very eyes. We fought against the malicious forces of the One Sith and ended up driving them back into the shadows from whence they came. Or so we thought. As it turns out, their banishment back into the Darkness saw them reform their sundered ranks, and emerge once more as the Sith Empire. From the very edges of the Galaxy, they swept across the stars - ravaging every system in their path. We didn't kill the One Sith, as we hoped. Instead, we only made them stronger, and now - the Galactic Alliance, alongside many other Champions of the Light have paid the price.

Yet, all hope was not lost.

Where the Darkness rose, there was Light to meet it. It was with those words in mind that I approached the Supreme Sun Guardian of the Golden Company with a radical idea. I proposed the creation of a Warband that would be dedicated to the eradication of the myriad forces of Darkness that despoiled the very skeins of reality with their presence. Much to my surprise, as the Golden Company was often contracted by the Sith Empire, Khonsu gave me leave to found this Sect - but with strings attached. It was expected, of course, as something so ambitious needed to have oversight. While our collective purpose was to banish the forces of Darkness, we were not to touch any Cult that swore loyalty to the Sith Empire or the Confederacy; unless they were the aggressors. The same restriction was placed upon any members of the Jedi that stood in our way.

Such a commandment was entirely political but was further flavoured by logistics. A newly founded Warband of Crusaders stood little chance against more experienced foes. What made my fellowship any different? I saw the logic behind his demands and swore that we would exterminate the chaff - and those who sought to stop our righteous work. Balance would be restored to the Force, no matter the cost.

With leave given, and several candidates pulled from the ranks of the Sun Guard and their ever-growing pool of Freelancers on hand, I set forth into the Darkness of the void. It was the world of Bogden and the score of wounded moons that our Warband's foundations would be laid. The Golden Company had history there. During the Core Imperial Confederation's thrust into Mandalorian space, several errant warships ended up bombarding portions of some irrelevant moon - likely slaughtering hundreds, if not thousands of non-combatants. However, as the sector was rife with pirates and criminal scum? No one cared to pursue justice in the aftermath. What made this former battlefield special to us was the rumours that spoke of the resurgence of the Bando Gora - a Death Cult that once resided on the moon of Kohlma.

If these whispers proved true? Then the whatever dregs the Bando Gora summoned forth to meet our challenge, would be sacrificed to give birth to the Lightsworn.

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Lightsworn Objectives:
  • Primary Objective: Purge the Surface of Kohlma of the Bando Gora.
  • Notable Locations on the Surface: Refurbished Bando Gora Citadel.
  • Potential Hostiles: Bando Gora Cultists, Total Number Unknown.


| @The Lightsworn |
Feel free to make your entrances as you see fit. The Starhawk II, Proudheart will be on station and can act as a launch point for the Lightsworn if required.​
 
LOCATION: En Route to Bando Gora Citadel
OBJECTIVE: Rout out Bando Gora Cultists, Work with Lightsworn to gain trust.
GEAR: Sword, Earrings, Checkered Kimono with Kro Var Garb
TAGS: Open

I was not lightsworn. However, after being spoken to by a couple of the higher ranking members within their corps, I had asked them to join in their assault against the Bando Gora. Why would I ask as such? And how did I know? Overhearing it was easy. it didn't take much to hear them within their own halls. Boisterous and ever willing to prove themselves to their leaders. However, I wanted to join because a rumor of a "Red-eyed Dragon" was running a death cult. While I had heard that this cult changed a couple times in recent memory, I came because I sought out this man, or woman. Whowever they were so then I could figure out why the Imura family had been reduced to ashes.

Something told me that I could potentially find him here. Secondly, as a freelancer within the Lightsworn, I also needed to gain their trust, and show them that I was someone they could rely upon for their needs. Not only that, but as they seemed to have roots embedded with the idea of using various different forms of Shaping, it would be good of them to learn from me if they could. Seeing as how I knew all of them to varying degrees. Sitting down upon the box that had been left with other supplies, I was finishing up the wiping down of my sword. A weapon I have been holding onto as though it were my life. In truth, it was.

The cloth had seen it's days. While the edges clearly implied the cloth had been white at one time, it was now black due to stained oils and the sword dying the cloth over years of use. Setting the cloth over my shoulder, I picked up the sheath, and closed with with a little ceremonial flare. Sliding the length of the blade over the top of my hand, so the tip of the blade came to rest against the neck of the sheath, then slide into the scabbard with ease and a finesse that could only imply I had done so thousands if not millions of times. Setting the sword upon my lap, I took the cloth, folded it up, and replaced it into the pocket at my thigh. I then ran the sheath through the loop at my secondary belt to hang off of my side.

Standing up, I grabbed the checkered Kimono top, and hung it over my shoulders, my arms lacing through the long opened sleeves. Reaching into the pocket, I produced a small necklace. One I have been holding onto for some time. Rubbing it with my fingers, waiting for us to be sent down. Right now? The best I could do is hope that these Lightsworn were open enough for me to talk or converse with them. While Yato was not happy about me sharing who I was, and stated I should do this on my own, I was smart enough to understand that in a galaxy this large, I needed some help finding this "Red-Eyed Dragon."

A sigh escaped my lips as we seemed to be nearing. Exiting hyperspace and everyone then began to start picking up their pace. Looks like its nearly time.
 
Alix sheathed her Xiphos within its sheath and the Ajax Spear upon her belt as she strolled across the hangar bay of the Proudheart to board one of the drop ships that would take her down to the surface. Like many others here, she had been asked to participate within this group known as the Lightsworn due to her Force Sensitivity. Although she lacked true formal training, she knew enough to utilize her skills within combat to make her dangerous. While she had made no hard commitments to this new operation within the Golden Company, this mission would be a good test of her own skill and what the objectives of those she would be serving with were. She stepped up into the drop ship then and took her seat. Her gaze passing over the others within the ship with her. Many of them clad in the more traditional and widely used power armour suits of the Sun Guard and Auxilia. Which stood in stark contrast to the more lightly armoured gear that Alix preferred to wear. She sat then, waiting in silence for the Proudheart to arrive to its destination and for the mission to begin.
 
Lex dozed as the Proudheart made it's way planet-side. This was the closest he'd ever get to actual meditating, and most likely the last moments of rest he'd have in the following hours, or even days, so he used them well. In his mind, he went over the facts of the mission at hand. Words had been travelling the void that a some kind of cult was laying claim to an old war-torn world, and had potential Force-sensitives among its members. Normally, he'd had pushed this to the bottom of his case-stack, after all, in this galaxy, people would worship anything. Rocks, trees, the very air itself. This cult's particular kink was in the Force itself, which wasn't too odd; a lot of sentients still viewed it as magical or even divine. Hell, most of them did.

But his priorities changed with one message from Shadows; investigate and eliminate the cult if needed. Turns out they were a resurgence of an ancient group, called the Bando Gora, who not only worshiped the Force, but made sacrifices, both willing and unwilling, to it, in exchange for power. Sith history was riddled with stories like those, and every time they ended up badly, either for the practitioner, the galaxy, or both. If they weren't stopped, the problem would only worsen with time. No, it had to be snuffed out here.

Which is how he found himself here, inbound for Kohlma. The Lightsworn, a group of Force-senstive crusaders who made the Jedi look like total pacifists, had put out inquests for members of a fireteam, to go in and do the job. Lex had signed out nearly instantly, though he introduced himself as a Judge, and not a Jedi, hearing of the cold relationship between the two Orders.

And so he sat, with the other members of the team, awaiting their landing.

Tags: [member="Alixandra Ishtar"], [member="Morna Imura"], [member="Lucius Varad"]
Location: Proudheart, Enroute to Kohlma
Objective: Extermination of the Bando Gora
 
Iresias Sirax - Former Blacklist Operative/Imperial Agent.

Status: DISAVOWED - Imperial Correlation Now Defunct.

Location: En Route Towards Kohlma Via Imperial Shuttle.

Silence loomed within the tight confines of the scarred Imperial shuttle - a red hue bathed the interior and electronics as loneliness mingled along with it. Iresias sat hunched over, staring at durasteel grates beneath her boots. Anger swelled within her body - her mind displaced and looping over how she met defeat prior to her escape. All her years of training and discipline meant nothing when the Empire she understood no longer existed; everything had become dust, a quickly fading echo that no longer held dominion over anything particular.

Gloved hands tightened into a fists as Iresias let out a frustrated scream, standing and slamming her right hand into a wall. A sizable depression was made - her fingers trembling and her breathing erratic. She had lost everything.

For now she did not know where she was going, or what she was supposed to do. There was no reform to report to, no kind of sanctuary for survivors of the Imperial way. She was lost among the stars, stuck inside what may as well be a tomb floating through the black of space. Iresias slumped back into her seat and placed her helmeted visage within her hands as her head began to throb with an intense migraine.

Silence accompanied her, and in her ears it whispered with static nothingness.

Alone...

[member="Lucius Varad"] | [member="Morna Imura"] | [member="Alixandra Ishtar"] | [member="Lex Del'Fino"]
 
Enki du-Aru
Location: Surface Kohlma, Staging Area
Objective: Eradicate Bando Gora Hostiles/Cultists
Status: Harmonious
Engaging: None
Equipment: VCP-01 "Hoplon"(Modified) VW-03 “Apollo”
Allies: [member="Iresias Sirax"] | [member="Morna Imura"] | [member="Alixandra Ishtar"] | [member="Lex Del'Fino"]

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Choosing a particular patch of dirt, Enki knelt and gently touched the ground with his right hand, his Force sense outstretching and flowing far as he could to reach out and sense for his enemies. With slow movements, he covered the small hole he made with his hand, satisfied with his search he felt confident that the path ahead would pose no danger to him or his fellow Lightsworn. Gently he rose back up, his eyes turned to face the path, it was littered with aged battles, blown craters and debris of a once defensive structure.

For what purpose? Enki hardly could guess, but by the size of the rubble it left behind, it made good use for targeting practice by something terrible. Ill-gotten misfortune to be left to such a fate, without a chance to face one's enemy, but Enki strode forth, the fates of souls that were put to rest long ago were none of his concern.

Their objective was clear, to remove the scourge known as the Bando Gora, a cult like group who fancied themselves death bringers and the darkness personified. Shadows, of what? Enki cared little for such fanciful titles, the very earth they walked upon screamed for the sun to return and warm the earth once again and burn away the unclean, the impure. Careful with his next few steps, he glided across the ground near effortlessly, his abilities had grown since his first attempts of walking back at the temple.

Enki paused at the very same destroyed defensive structure, a bunker upon closer inspection, which ever battle it had been destroyed it had certainly destroyed it significantly. His eyes turned upwards towards the next path, he spotted more structures further up ahead, and the brooding presence that littered like specks of star lights in a dark night sky, Enki found his target and declared it to himself he would rid such grotesque presence that continued to aggrieve the Light itself.

Enki though paused, near ready to charge ahead himself, more of Golden Company had arrived and it would be unwise to go in without much of a plan. Or at least, acknowledging the other presence, he had assumed the objective would allow for a free form type of hunt than a true planned military operation. They were about to face zealots, thugs and cultists, it was doubtful that they would pose much of a true threat that required a cohort of Legionaries and ample supply of supporting equipment and weapons. Enki lowered himself, finding one of the large pieces of rubble, he leaned against it and waited silently.
 
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When the shimmering plates of the Proudheart speared back onto the skeins of reality, the warship was greeted by silence. In another age, when the might of the Mandalorian Empire still claimed these ravaged moons, the Thyrsian vessel would've been challenged; by voiced demands or by ships-of-the-line. Yet, there was nothing. There were no stations that bore the signalling pennants of the Mythosaur Skull, nor patrols that bore the same markings. Whatever there was within the system made a point of avoiding the Starhawk II's active sensor sweeps, as the gigantic craft anchored itself in high-orbit over one of Bogden's moons.

With their forward momentum arrested, several troop transport's spilled forth from the primary hangar bays and descended towards the planet below. Each of these dropships bore elements of the Golden Company's newest Warband, as well as appropriated units drawn from several legions of the Thyrsian Auxilia. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but it would be enough to handle the entirety of the Bando Gora - and anyone else that mistakenly sought to lay claim to their prize.

This was the big moment for the Lightsworn; their very debut. It wouldn't do for them to lay their foundations on a defeat. The Supreme Sun Guardian expected no less than total victory.

Thus, with such thoughts in mind, the Thyrsian-aligned forces began establishing a presence on the moon of the dead. Their staging area was nothing elaborate. It was forged from a circle of dropships and off-loaded cargo crates - alongside several vehicles pouring out from retracting cargo bays. While the more gifted members of the newly christened Warband disembarked and moved towards their nebulous objectives, those that remained behind began reinforcing their temporary fortifications. Crystalline pylons were drawn out from containers and placed at critical junctures - where they could be rapidly activated and offer an esoteric bulwark against whatever opposition could be found.

In addition to the stationary fortifications, the staging area was patrolled by multiple ARES-I Combat Platforms equipped with a variable armament, all of who kept their photoreceptors on the horizon and ever vigilant of potential threats.

With the Beachhead established, the Lightsworn would be free to turn their gaze towards the darkened Citadel looming off towards the horizon…

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The path that was set before me was rife with detritus and disgorged earth. They were the lasting remnants of the Golden Company's bombardment that transpired during the Core Imperial Confederation's push into Mandalorian Space. Kinetic kill-rods tore through whatever meagre defences and fortifications were planted atop Kohlma's surface, and utterly obliterating any of the defenders that still resided within when the first projectiles fell. As my eyes drifted from one ruined bunker to the next, I felt my lips curling into a small smile. While Centurion Pierce was censured and forced into the outer reaches of the known universe - I had to admit his men did excellent work.

I only wished there was something left for us to take as war spoil. We Sun Guard couldn't get enough Mandalorian Trophies, and those that we had - weren't enough. Almost all the Slaves that our organization took were funnelled off towards the fighting pits, where they were likely beaten senseless by Trueborn Thyrsians. Something about petty revenge against a collapsed Empire who didn't follow through on false promises. While I could understand their rage - I felt like there could've been a better use for such… skilled flesh. Cannon fodder, substitute training droids, mobile targets at the range. There were plenty of ways they could've been utilized. But, alas, I digress.

The Galaxy was rife with those that held true to the tenets of Mandalore, so it was only a matter of time until the Slave Pens would be filled to bursting again.

Until then, however, there was a job that needed to be done. As if to remind myself of my partially forgotten duty, my armoured digits slowly drifted towards the ornate pistol clamped to my thigh. With practiced ease, the weapon was pulled from its magnetic holster and cycled-live with a flick of a thumb. The false-firelight of my visor compensated to account for the details bequeathed by the remote transceiver built into the gun, filling the corner of my vision with capacity numericals and an overheating gauge. In addition to those metrics, several fluorescent green markers appeared before my eyes - marking out friendly forces in the immediate vicinity.

Enki du-Aru was the closest to my position. With several metres between us, it was easy enough for my armour's systems to establish a secure auditory connection over the squad-level channels.

"Enki - This is Lucius," I began. "I'm moving in on your Six. Got anything on your suit's sensors?"
___​
| [member="Enki du-Aru"] | [member="Iresias Sirax"] | [member="Lex Del'Fino"] | [member="Alixandra Ishtar"] | [member="Morna Imura"] |
 
As the small, insignificant mass of durasteel touched down upon a ravaged surface long dead before Iresias' arrival, the now former Imperial Agent fixed her gaze upon an unknown presence subsequently making contact with the moon's scarred surface. The red hue of the shuttle's interior flickered and slowly died as darkness enveloped the tight confines where the Zeltron readied herself for whatever was to follow upon her departure. No longer armed with a blaster, among various other elements tailored for combat scenarios, the only semblance of her will - her blood lust made manifest was a lightsaber. Oddly designed, forked in appearance with two hilts conjoined at the pommel. The blackened obsidian gleamed with a dull shine as the weapon extended outward with a firm thrust - now elongated into a dual-sided instrument of sanguine death.

Iresias moved cautiously, her lightsaber growling rather than emitting the typical hum-buzz of its less corrupted cousins. Behind the guise from which the woman observed, her HUD automatically marked and made note of the foreign vessels and IDs close by - alas, there was no longer a database in which to derive information, and that also implied heavily that there would be no help nor communications linked to any Imperial outposts or command. Iresias was now a singularity - a walking ghost.

In this moment, there was no possibility that the stray Imperial would survive by herself among the unpredictable nature of space. She could attempt to engage - but that in itself would only achieve her a demise unfit for her ego. She must live on, she must find a means to reestablish herself as a presence among the stars that can be respected - it was what she desired most. Yet in this moment was a sign of weakness, a certain air that pleaded for mercy even if unspoken. A feeling not to be proud of, but a necessity in order to progress.

And so, Iresias advanced towards the unknown - embarking on what could either be her end, or a new beginning to develop her power - her inflated ego that knew nothing more than want and lust, decadence and a lack of true morality. Out in the open, Iresias allowed her presence to be exposed - awaiting the response of the neighboring strangers.

[member="Lucius Varad"] | [member="Enki du-Aru"] | [member="Morna Imura"] | [member="Alixandra Ishtar"] | [member="Lex Del'Fino"]
 
Enki du-Aru
Location: Surface Kohlma, Staging Area
Objective: Eradicate Bando Gora Hostiles/Cultists
Status: Harmonious
Engaging: None
Equipment: VCP-01 "Hoplon"(Modified) VW-03 “Apollo”
Allies: [member="Iresias Sirax"] | [member="Morna Imura"] | [member="Alixandra Ishtar"] | [member="Lex Del'Fino"]

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A different voice reached his ears, the sounds of the ground beneath quieted down as Enki removed his hand from the earth. Tentatively he stood back up, his hands hung loosely by his side as he answered “-Not within the immediate radius, but the first set of the larger ruined buildings contain signs of hostiles.”

Enki looked forward and slowly took several steps ahead, the pathway leading towards the possible headquarters would be riffed with possible ambush points and excellent spots for hit and run tactics. Of course such style of warfare would devastate most military operations but for the Golden Company and specifically the Lightsworn themselves.

Combined with their own power suit’s sensors, the Force aided their situational awareness significantly making nearly all ambushes impossible to pull off with the intended surprise. Enki paused once again, his hands raising up to his weapons and calmly assured to himself that both his blaster and edged weapons were sheathed to his waist. The prospect of anticipating ambushes were taken rather calmly in Enki’s thoughts, after all there were few things out in the galaxy the Force could not alert him to, and they were fighting religious up-start thugs for the most part. Emotions, thoughts, and the Force that flowed through all things itself, anything could be sensed given enough time and focus.

With the sound of footsteps behind Enki, he continued to march forward with certain purpose. The ground below yearned to be cleansed of the infestation that had taken refugees upon this planet, the Bando Gora had made a mockery of the moon, here and now the Lightsworn of the Golden Company have come to expunge these zealots that continue to desecrate the very ground they walk upon. Enki continued to march forward, scouting the next ruins that lead up to the indicated Bando Gora center of activity. He knelt down and pressed his hands against the ground and slowly stretched out his senses through the Force.

Enemies, lust for death, several approaching. . . “Ambush up ahead, three roughly twenty meters moving up to a hill and another trio attempting to circle around the larger of the ruins off of our right.” Enki called out into his comms. Slowly he stood back up and watched the dirt cascade down from his exposed hand. The sensation was all but lost to him, but the Force spoke clearly and the countless horrors that had befallen this planet, the very ground wept and cried out.

“Should we wait for them to bring further reinforcements or engage them before they reach their positions?” Enki asked, he was of the mind to quickly eliminate them before they can materialize into any form of a threat. But it also would warn the rest of the Cultists that they could sense them way before they could ever get into proper position to ambush. All the same, Enki willed the Force to obey him once more, his intent to clear these vermin was made clear even as his face remained expressionless.
 
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The response was almost instantaneous. Enki’s words gave me the answer I sought, and upon hearing them, I felt my blood begin to boil. While our intrusion on this hallowed surface went relatively unmolested, several members of the Bando Gora sallied forth from the protection of their Citadel’s walls. To what end they sought to achieve? I couldn’t say. Either they wanted to meet their patron deity faster than their kindred or tried to sacrifice themselves to buy their kindred a fleeting slice of time.

When it was all said and done, their reasoning didn’t matter. This rabble would be corpses before the distant sun began to set, and so too would the last remnants of the Bando Gora. Hopefully, they’d stay dead this time. Nothing more than a wordless pulse of acknowledgment followed Enki’s declaration, as I advanced towards his position. There was little point in responding to his words. Especially when, mere moments later, the man reignited his connection - informing me of the Cults’ movements.

There were three benighted souls twenty metres ahead, seeking to establish themselves on the high ground. If they had access to any heavy weaponry, the battlefield arrayed before them would swiftly become a killing field - as nothing would obstruct their deadly sight, and whatever meagre cover these ruins provided wouldn’t last long against such firepower.

In addition to those three Cultists, there was another Trio that sought to flank their present positions. They were circling around through one of the more substantial ruins to their right.

“Clever bastards,” I whispered.

It was then that Enki proposed a plan of action. The man wanted to see if we wished to hold out until more reinforcements came, which would’ve ideally thinned out the herd sequestered within the distant Citadel. Or, he suggested rushing them before they were able to set their ambush. I saw the benefits to either course but felt that the latter was more fitting. Fewer chances of their reinforcements scattering to the wind if they holed up inside their fortress.

“Very well then,” the reply came, mere seconds after Enki’s suggestion was given voice. “We should strike now before they’ve established their positions.”

I paused then to throw a glance towards my suit’s sensors. With the display updating itself to showcase the projected movements of our would-be prey, I found myself in a prime position to intercept the three Cultists that sought to flank out position. It’d be easier for me to rush them and draw my blade, rather than risk charging across Enki’s path to hit the distant trio seeking to take the high ground.

So, I told the man to take that hill with the sword and claim it for the Lightsworn, whilst I tore into the Cultists seeking to flank our position.

My weapon was charged and ready, but as soon as I began veering off in their direction, I felt like these zealots required a more… personal touch. That was when I felt my blood boil with the anticipation of violence. The warmth that began within my breast soon shot towards my unencumbered gauntlet. It felt good to reconnect with the most primal of sensations. Anger fueled my movements, allowing me to close the gap through leaps and bounds - further enhanced by the capabilities of the gilded armour I wore. It was swift and far from silent.

With one last vaulting leap, I’d be on them.

A predator finally pouncing at his prey.
| [member="Enki du-Aru"] | [member="Iresias Sirax"] | [member="Lex Del'Fino"] | [member="Alixandra Ishtar"] | [member="Morna Imura"] |​
 
Enki du-Aru
Location: Surface Kohlma, Staging Area
Objective: Eradicate Bando Gora Hostiles/Cultists
Status: Annoyed
Engaging: Three Ambushing Cultists
Equipment: VCP-01 "Hoplon"(Modified) VW-03 “Apollo”
Allies: [member="Iresias Sirax"] | [member="Morna Imura"] | [member="Alixandra Ishtar"] | [member="Lex Del'Fino"]

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“Affirmative.” Enki focused his attention upwards, his eyes narrowing at three distant targets up the hill. His left hand slowly began to wield the Force as his legs propelled him forward, he needed to quickly scale the hillside but the ambushers had the advantage with making the crest before he. But they don’t know that I know of their location. Enki moved as quickly as he could, his Solar Pistol at the ready and his mind sharpened to the point, to pierce through the enemy’s plans and deliver swift justice upon the Cultists.

The ground beneath him shifted, forming into manageable steps that allowed Enki to traverse the upward slope at a faster pace. The Lightsworm of the Circle of Earth, it was only natural as breathing that Enki effortlessly manipulated the ground through the Force. The presence of the Cultists were easily felt but his suit’s HUD gave a more precise location of the three targets as Enki neared the top of the hill. The earth below him solidified and loosen, his steps were quick with each graceful step Enki took to reach his targets. With the last meter Enki lunged forward to clear over the top and landed in front of the three Cultists.

Two of them appeared in rags but Enki’s eyes spotted pieces of combat armor hidden behind the tattered robes. Their weapons were slow to come up, the fear and confusion of the sudden appearance of a Golden Company Lightsworn was not something they thought possible. Enki raised his Apollo and fired the weapon, the charged beam of solar-ionization blasted itself dead center of the targeted Cultist. The splash damage was minimal due to the time it took to travel across the field was short and did not allow the shot to ripple and hit the nearby Cultist but Enki had planned so as he sprinted to close the gap.

The Cultist in the center turned to see his crumpled companion dead, slumped to the ground as the third brought up his rifle to bare on Enki. The Lightsworn’s arm shot out and grabbed the barrel’s rifle, Enki shoved the rifle away but Cultist still fired and pieces of armor, dirt and charred clay littered the ground but Enki shoved his Apollo into the man’s chest and fired a point-blank shot and dropped the Cultist. The last one finally broke from his stupor and swiveled his blaster to point at Enki.

The Cultist flinched as he saw Enki raise his Apollo as well at him but the Cultist couldn’t move from his spot, his feet were caught within the vice-like grip of the dirt below him and Enki fired another shot but this one aimed for the weapon of the cultist. The charged blast ruined the blaster but the remainder of the blast splashed across the blaster and rained across the Cultist’s face with super heated plasma. Enki moved quickly to the screaming Cultist and slashed at the man’s throat. Silence returned to the field as Enki searched the Cultist for the Communication device he saw moments ago and feared destroying the item with his Apollo.

Slowly dirt and clay began to reform around the stump of Enki’s left arm, the man had been slightly annoyed that the Cultist had managed to fire off a shot but Enki understood he simply needed to train more once he got back to the ship. Shifting his stance, Enki eyed the surrounding area and scanned for more Cultists.
 

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