Public Crisis on Cato Neimoidia | ATTN: Jedi

[Thalia Senn]

Engaging: Iris Arani
Location: Roof of a Railcrawler

A Weeping Tempest
​

The wind buffetted Tempest as she watched the small body of the Padawan fall through the mists of Cato Nemoidia. Behind the menacing metal mask of Tempest, Thalia frowned. Her heart cried out, threw itself against the raging storm but to no avail. All Thalia could do was watch as the Tempest cast another life to the dark depths. Tempest's good eye twitched as moisture built up. She blinked the tear away and sucked another breath in.

"Tempest to Zec - I need a pick-up. Activating my beacon." A short pause, then her helmet com cracked to life.

"Zec to Tempest, Black Crab en route. You give 'em hell?"

"Aye. Damn schutta got me good though. Pretty sure she broke a rib or two."

A moment later the spider cruiser pulled up alongside the moving train and Tempest jumped. She landed with a thud in the cargo bay. A grinning orange Twi'lek named Zec and a crude-looking med droid were waiting for her. Tempest threw her helmet to the ground and returned the grin. Behind that Tempest, Thalia screamed.

 

[Travot Ravenna]

The knight managed to catch bits and pieces of the other's fights as he and Lanyria continued cutting their way through the Brotherhood soldiers. They neared a pair of troopers who had taken up cover behind an overturned food vendor's cart. One of them popped up to unleash a few blaster bolts, which the pair of jedi promptly blocked with twirling blades, causing the bolts to be deflected into the ground in front of them. WIth his free left hand, the man concentrated on the Force and sent a concussive blast that knocked the upturned forward and into the troopers themselves, knocking them over in the process. He heard a surprised cry as the telekinetic attack sent one of the trooper's blaster's skidding across the pavement. Lanyria quickly darted over to it and bisected it. She shouldn't have done that - made herself so open to attack...But the knight rushed forward to make up for his pupil's mistake. He sent a stomping kick characteristic of Broken Gate into one of the trooper's chest, knocking the wind out of him and into unconsciousness. His saber flashed in the other direction to cut the other trooper's weapon in half, causing molten metal to drip onto the man. He screamed out in pain. Travot stretched out his left hand to that man and focused on the other's man senses. Not only did Travot take away the trooper's sense of pain from the new burn wounds, but Travot also blocked or took away all of the man's senses - Force Stun.

With the two troopers disarmed and unconscious, and the rest of the nearby enemies subdued or fleeing, Travot and Lanyria rejoined the other jedi.

Travot nodded at Jax Thio 's in acknowledgement of the Jedi Master's orders. He exchanged a glance with Lanyria, who nodded in turn - the man didn't like leaving her, but he understood the necessity of the situation. Perhaps more calming to his mind were the steadily arriving numbers of Concord troops. With their presence around, he would feel more at ease leaving his padawan behind. His eyes briefly lingered on Madison Starr for a brief moment after only briefly catching some of her action against the cultists. She seems like she might have a more unorthodox past than most of jedi...but look who's talking?

The large man turned to Dagos Terrek . While he had largely been pre-occupied with his own fighting and making sure that his own padawan was safe, he had managed to catch several glimpses of Dagos's fight to notice some of his Kith'ri fighting style. Another jedi who has an interest in martial arts besides lightsaber dueling, I'll have to catch him around when things are quieter to do some sparring. Maybe he can teach me a few things, and I can pass some knowledge of Broken Gate to him. The knight gestured towards the south.

"I guess our train is over there. You lead the way, and I'll follow."

 

[Dagos Terrek]

Dag smiled and gave a slight shrug. Very “what can I say.” in response to Madison Starr ’s approving nod. He took a moment to catch his breath as Jax Thio laid out their next moves. He was to go with Travot Ravenna while his actual padwan was going to remain here. He wondered how the burly man would feel about having to be responsible for someone else’s charge.

"I guess our train is over there. You lead the way, and I'll follow." The burly Jedi said to Dag whose smile grew wide.

“Chit. Let’s hit it.” he said eagerly.

“Good luck guys.” He said to the others. “I’m Dagos by the way.” He said to Nautolan as he headed off toward the southern monorail station.

It was an uneventful trip to the station, thank The Force because getting inside was going to be an event. Whatever force of cultists and troopers they had just taken on was nothing compared to the contingent that was defending the outside of the train station. Concord soldiers and Maw troopers had made contact with one another and the good guys were not winning.

They were outnumbered and in this case out gunned as it seemed the Maw had a kriffing tank.

“Uh…” He turned to Travot. “Ideas?”

@ Anyone is welcome to join

 

[Juno Sabat]

END OF AN ERA
Catching a falling star Padawan

Juno out out her message to the rest of the the Jedi Praxeum and waited a moment for a reply. No one called back, no one was there, but then. . Something had changed. Juno could feel it. She needed to go. Juno kept her commlink open incase someone tried to reach her but began running in a sprint up the stairs. The Force reinforced her, moving little bits of air out of her way, helping blood flow a little quicker through her legs, pushing just a little stronger off of the ground. The end result was Juno moving like a professional athlete rather than an in shape teenager.

Juno pushed herself to move, until she was out of hydroponics and into the street. She looked up for a sign and found what she was looking for. Iris Arani had fallen, and was rapidly approaching the street. Juno ran over to where she expected Iris to fall, just outside the Capital grounds, and reached out with the Force. Was Juno a strong enough telekinetic to break the fall of a person who'd reached terminal velocity? Sadly, no, Iris would be damaged from the fall. Juno wasn't sure she'd be able to walk. Heck, Juno wasn't even sure she could really do it. But Maybe Juno was strong enough to save her, and maybe, just maybe, if Iris could help break the fall too, she'd be able walk afterwards.

Darth Daiara

 

[Iris Arani]

The ground rushed to meet her as she stared at the sky. Wouldn't it be easier to watch the stars? Except a flash of colors pulled her mind and attention. Someone was reaching out for her? Oh, wait. She was falling. Sadness was replaced by panic as she forced herself to turn. The grip around her wasn't enough, but what could she do? With the ground rapidly approaching she did the only thing she could.

Reached out to try and stop her fall. Together with Juno Sabat , it should work, right?

It didn't work. Not enough. Iris hit the ground at a speed she could survive, but the question would be if she even wanted to. Pain was all she felt. Flesh torn from the impact, bones broken. She wasn't aware of what was happening around her. Everything felt like she was on fire, burning away. Medics would come to handle her, at least. But for Iris, her time on Cato had come to a painful end.

 

[Darth Daiara]

Aradia didn't need Darth Mori 's words to draw her saber. They were a lesson she had learned long ago-- before their apprenticeship, before Zaavik, before she ever had a chance to make a choice. The Jedi had taught her personally that there could be no her when there was a them. They would hunt her until her last breath, so she would make it easy for them.

She lit her saber and followed after her Master's heel.

"Your new friends are much more resourceful." She descended into the palace steps and stepped into the square, ignoring the bulk of the mindless fighting and training her eyes for the distance. She knew first hand that it wasn't the slaughter pit that defined the outcome. It was the subtle struggles for power done in the back.

Her fingers brushed a nano bomb in her robes.

"I'll stop the reinforcements." Her attention trained back to her master's tired, disturbed eyes. She knew better than believe what she saw, but she offered it anyway, her expression seeking. "Unless you'd like me to stay."

 

[Madison Starr]

​

At-Lao East Coupling Station​

Cato Nemoidia​

Part 6 - Obj 2​

​

Jax Thio and Madison Starr split from Travot Ravenna and Dagos Terrek to tackle the challenge of twin monorail stations. Occupied by the enemy. Meanwhile, Thunderhead Battalion drops more troops in their area.​

Jax gave the order to split up and tackle the sub stations separately. Smart. They didn't have a lot of time.

"Hey! We're coming too!"

Madison turned to see a small contingent of blue-collar Nemoidian workers. Armed with crow bars and pipes. They didn't seem like the royal type either.

"There will be bad guys. Are you sure?"

Madison looked to Jax. Understanding if he declined their assistance.

"We know. But we can't just sit here and wait to be slaughtered. We had friends in there. When the red ones came."

"Do you know the sub station layout?" She inclined.

One of the smaller locals nodded and jumped up. A pipe wrench in his hands.

"Yeah. It's a circular building with the rail line running through the middle of structure. The outer doors are glass and can make for a good defense with low visibility on entry. But! If you just go around and enter from the rails themselves? There's nothing to stop you and you can see everything from the middle of the room."

The others seemed to nod in agreement. Avoid the front doors. Go in from the side and hop the rail line.

Madison nodded to Jax. Then improvised,

"Okay. Good. Then here's the plan. ...We'll go around the side and hit the bad guys from behind. As soon as you hear fighting? Rush the doors. Get inside and shut down that monorail. Got it? No more bombs and no more bad guys will arrive by train today. Understood?"

The locals smiled devilishly and nodded.

"Got it!"

She turned to Jax one last time and gave him a thumbs up. Party time.


* * * * *

​

Three minutes later.​

​

Madison stood in the middle of the northern most monorail sub station. Surrounded by the dead smoking bodies of Maw insurgents. Maybe twenty at most. All dead and laser cleaved. She held her small pistol in the air and looked around for more targets to shoot. She didn't see any.

"Status!" She shouted up to the control center, "Hey! Guys! I know you can hear me up there! ...Status!"

A bunch of blue-collar locals poked their heads out from the upstairs windows. They seemed giddy and ecstatic.

"All clear up here Jedi! We're shutting this place down!"

Madison nodded and kept looking around. Anxious of more enemies to engage. Alas. All seemed quiet now. Red lights started to flash around the monorail station and new barricades arouse around the rail lines themselves. All the signs now read, 'Station Offline'. 'Emergency.'

"We good!?" She shouted again as the signs finished switching over.

"Yep!" The local resistance gang shouted back from upstairs, "All clear! Lines diverted. Station's closed and barricades are up! Ain't no trains showing up here today!"

"And the command console! Can they change it by remote from Central Station!" She shouted back.

"Nah!" A tiny Nemoidian leaned over the railing, "We smashed the router and cut the hard line! No signal! We're clean! This place is shut down!"

"Roger! Good work gentlemen! Now get back outside and wait for evac!"

Madison holstered her pistol.

Station was secure and closed. No more enemy assistance would be arriving this way. Strange though... She didn't see or sense any bombs in here. This was a meager effort at best. Not the army of resistance she had expected to find. Hmm? Were they getting off too easy? Or. Was this all part of the Sith plan too? Maybe there hadn't been any bombs here to begin with at all. Just. A terrible, terrible ploy. Damn.

She turned to Jax. (Who, admittedly, had done most of the fighting himself. Thank the Gods.)

"Looks clear Jax. I'm not sensing anything amiss down here either? You?"

They needed to be sure.

No second chances.

. . .

 

[Dagon Kaze]

CRISIS ON CATO NEIMOIDIA
THE GREAT ERROR vol. II
Issue #13 w/ Zaka Halketh Jem Fossk Darth Solipsis

The Jedi moved in on the palace, despite the concerning twitch at the back of his head. Something about leaving Jem to handle herself felt wrong. He convinced himself it was his usual overprotective nature. She could manage on her own. He had trained her to. There was no other way--

His brow furrowed as the weight of darkness came crashing down upon his Force senses. Much akin to Solipsis, Caelitus' presence forebode not only death but something far worse - despair. The last flame of hope extinguished. Eternal darkness. So thick was the corruption that it infested the very marble walls of the palace. Like a rancid stench that could never truly be cleared.

Like a disease.

Dagon knelt down before a cut undead, tracing the lightsaber cuts across its torso with his eyes. One slash was shallower than the other indicating the lesser strength of an off-hand swing. Zaka's trail.

He carried on ahead, opening up his senses to the Near-Human encountering the dark fog that obscured his mind. A foreign intrusion clouding his senses. Halting in place, the raven-haired Knight called upon the Force and it ushered unto him before he expanded it to his fellow Jedi somewhere deeper within the palace. It's empyrean brilliance would rush to Zaka's aid, clearing his mind.

Forward, a single word would echo in the Near-Human's head before Dagon spurred ahead through the palace's halls and passages.

This reign of terror had to be brought to an end.

Here and now.

 

[Jem Fossk]

Location: Roof top
Tags: Darth Solipsis

Spoiler: The Story

Their ship shot by Heinrich Faust 's the two groups meeting having come to a stop not even an hour before.

"They here too, Master," was all she said, her hand pressed to the cockpit glass as Dagon guided them on by. Her belt felt heavy with the new weight that sat there. Jem brushed her father's saber with her fingers and looked down to the holonet.

"It's chaos," she reported, reading from the text. "They've hostageded the whole city. There's .... controlled chokepoints cutting off the people's militia. They...." Jem paused, her skin color blanching. She looked, disturbed as she held his gaze. "They're demanding force sensitive children."

She closed the report, the whole incident sitting wrong in her gut. What would anyone gain from that? Unless...


A familiar flash of paint caught her attention, followed by a tug. "Master Noble?" The ship passed their peripheral as it lowered towards the city outskirts. "Follow them."

Gravity pressed against them as they broke atmo. Jem scuttled to the far window and watched the streets raced up to meet them. She could see some of the aforementioned choke points... on the street. They could could circumvent by simply traveling above. She scanned the rooftops for a clear path. On top of a nondescript terrace close by, she saw an out of place gleam of metal. Jem blinked and pressed forward, only to have her overhead view cut off by them touching ground.



"...I have a bad feeling about this."

Dagon Kaze Valery Noble

CRISIS ON CATO NEIMOIDIA
THE GREAT ERROR vol. II
Issue #13

At-lao' rooftops,
Cato Neimoidia

The Knight pinched the bridge of his nose. Help was flocking to Cato Neimoidia in droves.

And Dagon Kaze didn't like it one bit.

He remembered well and he would remember forever the last time the Jedi congregated in one place. The Sacking of Coruscant. One of Darth Solipsis' many imprints of death left on the Jedi. On the galaxy.

"...I have a bad feeling about this." his apprentice echoed his sentiments.

He couldn't help but feel that there was something deeper beneath the Bando Gora's bloody masquerade. Whether it was the Force or his investigative gut, it didn't matter. What mattered was that the situation could not be solved by simply throwing numbers at the problem. It would only exacerbate it.

If it was only me...

He shook his head. Dagon Kaze had always preferred to work alone. Not out of some sense of superiority. Quite the opposite. His failures taught him that the best way to minimize collateral damage was when those he protected were as far as possible away from him.

But today, he wasn't allowed to do so. And if he strayed, Jem would be quick to remind him of their near-death experience over Adrathorpe. Together we are stronger, she had told him on the Prosperity. Aeris would've told him the same and since his recent induction into the New Jedi's council, she made sure to remind him either subtly or not. But a leopard can only change his spots so much.

The Jedi had learned the virtue of patience through his uncountable times on stakeouts. Hours, hell even whole days, perched upon a rooftop. But patience was a virtue they couldn't afford now. Time was against them and the more reinforcements that arrived the faster the grains of sand flowed down to the lower bulb.

The Knight had to take some form of control over the situation. He had to expand his methodical ways to the others, help them where he could.

Assessment, Assembly, Action. The triple-A rule.

He glared over the holographic projection of At-la'o, Arthur providing the feedback from all kinds of reports filling in the missing details of the map. A large chunk of the Jedi were moving in on the fast-paced trains circling in and out of the city.

Diversion...

...and if it's not... there'll be hell to pay.

...but if it is - what are the Bando Gora truly trying to achieve?

Then his eyes shifted to the list of landmarks dotting the bridge city.

Dod palace.

The Bando Gora, the Sith, even your run-of-the-mill thug were all a superstitious lot. Even Darth Solipsis. The prophecy of the Sith'ari, the patterns of strikes on locations tied to the Jedi. The Bando Gora and their supposed leader couldn't be any different, right? The cult's leader had to be there. Or so he hoped.

One by one, Kaze.

He cleared his throat and opened a line to the allies spearheading groups - Romi Jade , Gir Quee, Finley Dawson, Heinrich Faust, Jax Thio .

:: This is Dagon Kaze of the New Jedi. :: he quickly introduced himself, then continued,:: A lot of the Jedi are rushing to stop the trains but we also need people to secure the bridge lines holding the city up. There are two crucial... fracture points on each side of the lines - don't need to tell you what that means. Admiral Quee maybe you can send specialists in... or Jaxx, you could take on that. Whatever you do... hurry. Time's running out. ::

Then,:: Romi, Heinrich... when you secure the trains-- :: because he sure as hell hoped they did, ::-- look for anything that might help us stop the Bando Gora here and now. Communications, records, manifests, any data, really, that can give us a better scope of the situation... and how deep this thing runs. ::

:: ... we're gonna head into the city itself. Dagon out. ::

He brought his hand down and looked around.

:: Jem, how far behind are you? :: she had been tasked as a picket. Watch and clear their surroundings as they moved towards the palace. Somewhere up ahead was Zaka and he planned on catching up with him.

Kryll Valery Noble Kahlil Noble @okalotoftags

//Location.. City rooftops, pushing in with the team on the ground nearby, moving towards the palace
//Nearby.. Dagon Kaze Zaka



:: Just two streets, Master. ::

Jem landed lightly on the next roof top, moving quickly as she scanned and disabled the make shift nests the resistance had scattered about the intersections. Up until this point, they had just been cameras and unused sniper points. This roof gave her a bad feeling. She held her breath and approached an uncharacteristic, metal... Her skin flashed cold.

:: Chit. Where's Yula when you need her? :: She uttered to herself. It was heard regardless, the two teams remaining in constant contact. Dagon trusted her, but going silent was just plain stupid.

:: What? ::

She snapped her mouth shut with a grimace.

:: Nothing. .... Okay, well, it's something. ...Fouuund a bomb. No-- I'm alright. :: Her static overlapped his. :: We just did this same thing last week. You keep moving, I'll catch up. :: Her comm went quiet as she knelt down, something about the whole situation sitting wrong. Then again, this whole mission felt wrong. She was missing something, like why a random explosive would be placed so far from the tracks. Unless there were more out there...

She placed her father's saber down and cracked open the box, already running through the wire colors in her mind, but it was empty.

:: What?! ::

Her head snapped up. A street away, staring right at her, was a dark figure.

Darth Solipsis

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
Jem Fossk

​

Twin silhouettes stood in silent observation as all hell broke loose around them. From the large lavish balcony of one of the many high rise spires, the two watched on as the New Sith Order crawled out from the deepest recesses of the city to meet the Jedi head on. The day of victory was at hand.

The day of revenge.

Long had the Lightsworn held sway, long had the Jedi escaped the justice deserved to their number. A good death was mercy enough, their heretical lies would be scrubbed out of memory, their kin put to the stake, and in the end the galaxy would finally be made clean. Their influence gone forever.

The Dark Lord of the Sith gazed out into the city as chaos reigned. His sulfuric stare burned with unbridled hatred, under the weight of his tattered robes his fist clenched tightly.

“Scurrying about like ants. Caught unawares, always reacting never taking control. This is the folly of the Jedi, they are too weak to effectively bring about the necessary change. The cycle of violence will continue over and over until the Jedi Order has been brought down.”

The Dark Voice turned to face his daughter, the Jedi Padawan whom he saw so much of himself in. His hateful glare softened, eyes glistening with the simmering flames of a dying fire.

“I tried to give you a way out, a chance to live a life robbed of you.”

His eyes glanced off, gesturing toward the palace mere blocks away. His right hand raised to guide her vision.

“I was wrong. Your destiny is with me.”

They had front row seats to the inevitable battle between the Jedi Zaka and Dagon Kaze against his very own Shadow Hand, Dark Lord of the Sith Halketh . The crashing waves of darkness polluted the air with the foul miasma of the Dark Side. The two would enter and meet their fate, the Dark Lord in wait for his prey.

//Roof Top
// Darth Solipsis




Her father stood besides her, quiet and impassive. It was as if he had always been there. Her heart skipped as she tried to keep calm. Don't move too fast-- don't alert him-- and she just might be able to escape again. "Master, I-" The comms went dead as an explosion reverberated from a distance. She caught herself on the edge of the roof, horror in her eyes as she watched the chaos spring from her father's trap.

"Stop this," she uttered. It was a pointless request, but the child beseeched the parent anyways, full of undashed hope.

"Father, please," The words cracked as her gaze found the small shape of Dagon in a square two blocks over. She wanted to call out for him, or jump from this roof and get to his side, but she knew that that would only bring the Dark Lord down on them both. It was a confrontation they wouldn't win.

She stood stock still, her knuckles white on the edge of the concrete as she was forced to whiteness it all.

"You don't have to do this anymore-- You've got me. I'm right here. Stop this."

CRISIS ON CATO NEIMOIDIA
THE GREAT ERROR vol. II
Issue #13 w/ Zaka Halketh Jem Fossk Darth Solipsis

Like a Dog Chasing Cars​

:: Master, I- :: static burst through the line as a loud explosion took his attention. The broadcast had exposed his worst scenarios and memories to life. Staring at the transmission where the figure of the cult leader decayed into the all too familiar form of the Dark Lord of the Sith Halketh , his eyes recalled the dread, the anger, and helplessness of the Sacking of Coruscant.

:: Arthur, can you reach her? ::

:: No, Sir, I'm unable to penetrate through the jamming. ::

Fuck...

His feet itched to turn back.

Two streets behind. Can't be far.

:: Give me a sitrep on the situation. ::

:: Allied forces are finally moving in towards the locations you advised and are taking precautionary measures to secure the city from plunging to the abyss, Sir but the New Sith have emerged. ::

Always on the damn backfoot.

:: The trains? ::

:: En-route still but the Jedi forces seem to have engaged them. ::

Always entrapped.

Like mice.

:: Put your efforts into finding all the bombs and transmitting their locations to Admiral Gir Quee. ::

Times had to change.

:: And you, Sir? ::

I have to change.

:: I'm going to the palace. ::

He moved up onto the roof's railing, his eyes giving one final gaze behind. Somewhere there was his apprentice.

I have to start trusting.

I have to start believing.

Believe in her.

Believe that she could fly.

Fists and hands clenched in unison before he willed himself to move forward. Leap through the cityscape towards the Palace up ahead.

:: Zaka, you hear me? ::

:: Get to Caelitus as soon as you can, I will cover your rear! ::

Believe in the generation that comes after me.

:: Don't wait on me. ::

Believe that we can turn this around.

Not alone but...

DARK LORD OF THE SITH | VOICE OF THE MAW
Jem Fossk

​

His eyes witnessed the intensity of her pain, her worry.

“Stop?”

The Dark Father turned to fully face his daughter, shifting his body to stand face to face with his own flesh and blood.

“They freely march to their deaths, a vainglorious end of which they have sown for themselves many times over.”

He scoffed aloud, looking back to the horizon as a screen of starfighters were hit by missile fire covering the landing of a dropship blocks away.

“There is nothing to tether them here anymore but their own hubris. There is no explosives, there is no hostages, there is no Bando Gora. They were deceived and lured into a trap, they were only all to excited to take the bait. Only pain and the death awaits them now.”

“So I’ll ask you dear daughter. Stop what? They are already dead, let them be.”

Jem could feel the subtle tingle of her skin shifting in color. From gold to silver, the signs of a Firrerreo's distress were always very clear.

She knew there was nothing she could say or do to reach her father in a moment like this. He had wanted to corner her and he had. The game was up. One wrong move against him and he would set off on her like before.

Jems goals went from saving the city to staying alive.

The saber stayed on the ground and the girl didn't move a muscle. She simply stood there and watched Dagon Kaze figure walk away, none the wiser to the position she was in. Good.

"What do you want from me?" She whispered, moisture building and whisking away before a single tear could drop.

 

[Bernard]

Bernard pushed through the men and women crowding the corridor. His quiet footfalls tapped against the duracrete floor, drowned out amidst lively conversation. There was an urgency in his steps, a rush to get to the windows, though he himself didn't quite know for what reason. He'd left the meeting room early, left the others with a vague warning based on a sense of unease that permeated the Force, and had taken off towards the outer edge of this floor's corridors, where the massive glass panes were.

He turned the last corner and slid to a halt. A group of people, minding their own business, stood by one of the windows. A few others moved about the corridor towards some destination or another. Bernard cocked his head. There was nothing here that could pose a threat to—glass broke with a massive crashing crescendo. The window panes shattered into innumerable pieces. At the same time, the lights flickered out, and the corridor was cast into darkness. Hundreds of shards surged through the corridor, announcing the arrival of a warrior whose armour glinted a gleaming black. The glow of a jetpack followed him, and the whirlwind of shards, from harmless to dagger-sized, led in front.

Speak of the Sith'ari and he shall appear.

Bernard rushed toward the people, stretching out with the Force to shield them from the glass, which, as if caught in a strong wind, reversed its direction and rained out of the window instead. The brunt of it caught the attacking warrior, but the shards only broke against his black carapace. As the people scrambled to flee, the warrior came down where they'd stood moments prior. He removed a hilt from his belt and brought it to life. A crimson blade extended from it. A lightsabre then, but there was something curious about this warrior. In the light of his blade, Bernard could make out the shape of a T-visor, the iconic hallmark of the Mandalorian warriors.

A bounty hunter? No, the clear mark of the Dark Side rolled off this man in waves. He was a Sith, then.

Bernard frowned. He stepped to the side as the innocents scrambled past him, to safety, and drew his own blade. The icy blue blade sprang to life, and, without wasting a moment, Bernard began to charge. The Mandalorian did the same. They closed the distance in the blink of an eye, blades clashing with a loud crack. Their sabres cut the air with sharp whirrs, crackling whenever they met. The Mandalorian's blade work was formidable, but his responses betrayed surprise. He hadn't expected to face a Jedi, not here. Prepared for light slaughter, he made mistakes, only during the first exchanges, but it was more than enough to drive him back.

Bernard dove into the Mandalorian's defence again and again, ruthlessly battering him with precise strikes and jabs, pushing him closer and closer to the broken windows through which he'd come. Eventually, the Mandalorian's foot came down on the edge as their blades locked. To Bernard's annoyance, standing at the precipice of a multi-story fall didn't phase the warrior. Jetpack training seemed to have removed any instinct to fear great heights. Bernard grunted, shoving his blade forward with all the strength of his body.

The Mandalorian had seen this coming. He gave a low, rumbling laugh, and deliberately jumped backwards, out of the window. Bernard followed, carried forward by the momentum of his efforts, but where the Mandalorian engaged his jetpack, he lacked such tools. Instead, he grabbed on to the Mandalorian's leg, causing them both to dip as the jetpack strained to support their combined weight. Using the leg as a hold, Bernard swung under and behind the Mandalorian, flew upside-down above him, and took hold of the jetpack.

The Mandalorian barely followed the manoeuvre, jerked around while he still attempted to stabilize himself in flight, and didn't manage to bring his blade up in time to block Bernard's, which plunged through the Mandalorian's neck. Within moments the Mandalorian was dead, and the only way to steer their flight was lost with him.

Thinking quickly, Bernard deactivated the sabre and pulled the dead Mandalorian around in mid-air, roughly putting them on a fast-descending path away from the cloud-cutter, towards a group of shorter buildings. As they passed over one, Bernard redirected the Mandalorian warrior again, directly at the building's roof. A wide, flat, and open surface topping the sales tower built next to one of the many railways of Cato-Neimoidia's famous hanging cities.

Bernard crashed onto the duracrete Mandalorian first, using the warrior's armour to absorb the brunt of the impact. They skipped along the surface, their angle of impact had been too shallow, but Bernard kicked downward and, instead of skipping, they began to slide along the duracrete directly toward the safety wall at the edge of the roof. Several dozen paces before the collision, Bernard jumped off and came to a halt with a combat roll. A harsh scraping echoed through Cato Neimoidia's sky, until it was met with a sudden, crashing end.

There was no time to wonder where the Mandalorian had come from, and he didn't have to. Before him several Mandalorian warriors cut through the skies, and looking over them stood a central figure a short leap ahead of Bernard. A tall figure encased fully in red armour, with a crimson sabre and a T-visor of his own. His war cries rang after the sky-bound warriors.

Bernard flipped the activation switch on his lightsabre, and entered a ready-stance. His work wasn't done yet.

"Surrender," he called out to the warrior. "Or face the consequences."

Khamul Kryze​

 

[Justice Lesan]

They were ready. Justice nodded as he followed behind the group. There was a darkness permeating the air. It was so thick the young Lesan could feel it. It was tangible as...

the sithspawn...

His mind flashed back to that day pinned between Briana Sal-Soren and the creature. It was hard to forget the day. Some said they blacked out from so much pain. Judah had, he thought, but he vividly remembered the arm being bitten off. He could not help it. The day was seared into his mind as the scream which prompted him to jump in front of Bri. She would have been killed without him.

Justice knew she knew that even if the words had never come from her mouth.

He leaped out of the ship with the rest of them. His orange blade ignited, one half of his saber snapping to life. His adventure in the crystal cave had rewarded him with two crystals, two which now powered the dual bladed weapon he carried.

The words spoken by everyone filtered past Justice's mind. He was focused on what needed to be done. Studying to be an archeologist did not make him the most proficient duelist, but he was his uncle's nephew. Justice was not worried as to whether he would hold is own if it came to that. He was anxious, nervous even, but only because he knew two things. First, he would give up his life before anyone would take Briana's and second, he was unsure if he had it in him to kill.

Time would tell on the later.

Tag: Briana Sal-Soren | Vizion Trozky | Lossa Darcuhl | Iris Arani | Dimitri Voltura Romi Jade | @Domitri's apprentice whose name i cannot recall

 

[Travot Ravenna]

Travot ran behind the padawan, not terribly happy about the need to run but understanding of its necessity. It's a good thing I've gotten back into doing runs with Lanyria...though maybe I'll have to start doing them in this plate armor to make it more realistic training. His idle thoughts dissipated as they neared the southern train and the din of battle. Blaster fire and slugthrower fire echoed throughout the streets, along with the occasional explosion of something obviously larger. At first, the susevfian thought it might be fire from one of the Aerial Cruisers that was hovering around the city, but rounding a corner with Dagos Terrek , it appeared that someone had thought fit to bring a Missile Attack Launcher into the mix. Whether the Brotherhood or one of their allies brought it, or if it had been stolen from the local militia, he did not know. But he did know that it appeared to be pushing back the native militia and the Thunderhead Battalion infantry that had made their way here. The padawan turned to Travot.

"Uh…ideas?"

"We don't have the firepower to take it on directly," said the knight, "but we might be able to board it and take out the crew if we're lucky. Destroy it from the inside out or hand it over to the militia. The question is how to get there - do feel like you'd be fast enough to rush over their directly? I'm not super fast myself, I'm probably going to have to bound from cover to cover...probably going to move over to that upturned landspeeder over there, and then into that shattered storefront and try to outflank it."

 

[Dagos Terrek]

Travot Ravenna had a plan, a strong well worded, well thought out plan. The only problem was he explained it to Dagos who, heard most of it and understood most of what he heard but wasn’t about to ask the older Jedi to explain himself again. That would just make him look like a dummy and Dagos Terrek was no dummy.

He had heard one thing clearly.

“do feel like you'd be fast enough to rush over their directly?”

Once again, it can’t be said enough but the plan was good. The whole plan. He knew it was, even if his response did not not exactly reflect that fact.

Dagos looked over to where the tank was, looked back at Travot and shot a confident smile at the burly knight.

“Bet.”

And he was out that mug racing toward the armored vehicle using The Force to support and enhance his movement. He was the wind, unkfriffing touchable. Maw soldiers looked and saw nothing but a blur as he tore across the space between where he had been and where he was going.

And then a few feet away the ground opened up into a crater where one had not been and Dagos Terrek was flying through the air. He landed hard as chit after the blast from the concussion missile had sent him skyward. Thankfully The Force was with him and he was only down a moment before one of the concord soldiers helped him to his feet. He did a mental inventory and made sure he had all of his parts still. He did, his head was still ringing, his ribs were tender to the touch, likely broken and his whole left side was a raw mess from having scraped along the ground but he still had all his arms and legs, which for him meant he wasn't doing half bad.

“You alright kid?” The soldier asked.

“Beautiful.” Dagos responded. “Kriffing beautiful.” He let out a long breath and then continued his run toward the tank. He would have to keep it distracted until Trav could disarm or take her over.

The tank had it’s cannons pointed towards the exact speeder Travot had been planning on hiding behind. Dag had no clue if he was still behind it or not. He spotted a down Maw soldier with a bandolier of grenades around his chest. He reached out with The Force which as the day was getting longer was becoming more and more strenuous, armed the grenades and launched the corpse at the tank.

The explosion rocked the armored vehicle sending it’s payload wide as it attempted to explode the speeder.

Dagos pumped his fist in triumph and the tank turned its cannon’s toward him and the other Concord soldiers.

“Frakk.”

He hoped Travot would be able to put that sucker away soon…

 

[Khamul Kryze]

The Unchained

Tags: Tor’r Tal’Verda, Kralmus Orr, Raus Garrat, Bernard

Loadout: Mandalore's Lament, Regret, beskar'gam

O Death

Several innocents were cut down one by one as Khamul carved his path in blood and death, taking joy in each kill as his faithful soared above. The thought of the glorious slaughter filled his soul with a new sense of life. Strange to think that it took death to breathe life into one's self, and yet, that was the beauty of slaughter. Such was the glory of death.

Khamul had just pulled his blade from the chest of another citizen as he heard a commotion coming from above, accompanied by a sudden shift within the Force. The Demon Mandalore chuckled in excitement, his blade having not tasted the blood of a Jedi since it had been forged. He looked to the skies to see a rather grand display of foolish heroism. The Jedi had taken to the skies in an unexpected maneuver, taking one of Death's Hand to the ground, crashing against the duracrete and ending the warrior's life. Khamul said no prayers for his fallen comrade, nor did he feel the need. If his fellow Mandalorian had fallen prey to simple antics, then he was no true Mandalorian. If he died honorably, however, then his name would be remembered by their people for years to come. The weak had no place among his people, but the strong would live on as an example of the sacrifices needed to bring them back to their former glory.

The Jedi, who Khamul now recognized as Bernard of Arca from intel he had gathered in recent months, slid across the ground as he crashed to the ground, ending in a roll as he found his footing once again. The Jedi gave his ultimatum, causing Khamul to scoff in defiance.

"Is that a threat I hear? I must say, you sound more like a Sith than a Jedi."

He could already see other members of Death's Hand preparing their own attack against the man, prompting Khamul to hold his hand out toward them.

"NO," he hissed from behind his mask. "THIS ONE IS MINE."

The faithful that were so eager to protect their Mand'alor quickly altered course, leaving the Hellhound of Mandalore to deal with his prey alone. Khamul's hand tightened around Mandalore's Lament, the blackened crimson of its plasma pulsating as Khamul reached out for the darkness. His mind became clear, his rage focused, his prey, ready for its death. Yes... today he would feel the rush of killing a Jedi once again. Today death itself would honor him with the blood of the Light.

"My shackles are broken, Jedi. There is nothing your chains can do against those who have already escaped their bondage."

Without another word, he rushed at the man, sprinting forward with a heightened speed from the darkness within himself. His blade cut at a downward diagonal angle, attempting to gauge the Jedi's abilities with a simple strike. If the strike hit, it would cleave the man in two, ending the fight before it even began. The Demon Mandalore didn't wish it so... he wanted his prey to fight, to squirm, to flail... and eventually, to beg before the final blow was struck. The greater the challenge, the greater the glory, and the more he would prove himself a true leader of his people.

 

[Zaka]

HEAD OF THE SNAKE
BLACKFANG - THE (NEW) JEDI vol. II
Issue #4 - Crisis on Cato Neimodia
Dagon Kaze Halketh

​

The way the walls and doors began collapsing in on themselves, it forced him to apply some haste to his step. In concert with the taunts that were meant to instill fear, to haunt and make him second guess himself, it was disconcerting in a way. It was the first textbook time that Dun Moch had been applied to him. The words, an attempt to cause him to fumble, he reached into himself and pushed outwards, his Senses blooming, just a little further ahead of him.

Anticipate the change, move with it. He needn't overexert himself, just needed to stay a split second ahead of the change.

But with the pressing Darkness meant to oppress him beneath its benthic weight, he needed to reach deep. Just like that time.

A haunting scream echoed through the halls, he shook his head. It was bloodcurdling, and he heard the wet sound of a bloodied corpse hit the ground. Was it close? Dagon? No, he'd of felt it, he was certain, even while weighed down. Something would've told him.

"Pray indulge me refulgent one, just how long will your spark last in the endless abyss?"

He shook his head. A faint shiver crawling up his nape. He felt the goosebumps rise on his forearms, but he was not cold.

The difference here in comparison to back then, he realized. Solipsis had been cold, yes, but chaotic. He meant to destroy them outright, rather than break their spirits. They were beneath him, but the Sith'ari had still sought to explain why they were going to die. Why he did what he did. He revealed himself, and in that lapse they'd been able to break free.

Caelitus played games.

False bravado or no, he told himself, As long as necessary.

His Danger Sense warned of impending doom, and he lurched forward, faster. Only one path, he barely spared a glance to his flanks. Only forward. To Caelitus. No Dagon there to stop him. No one to pull him out. It was one or the other. A proper Warrior's death, if it came down to it.

"You met the abyss once before, how did it feel to feel nothing at all? To drift into the unknown? To be scattered amongst the stars?"

Leaps and bounds. He needn't answer. On his way to his own perceived end, he couldn't help but sink his lips into a grim smile. His insides weighed heavily inside of him, anticipating his end. Not unlike the last time he had faced the Storm. But it was necessary if he could deal meaningful damage.

"But dying in vain will only weaken us in a conflict that's end may not come with his demise..."

Eyes widening, his head shook. Why those words? Why now, here, of all places?

The memory almost lost him everything. Had his spatial awareness not been blooming around him, he wouldn't have noticed the shift as the wall admitted the Shadow Hand and placed him in the Sith's path.

Orange exploded in front of him and in those short seconds he barely had time to adjust his momentum.

He twisted, and he felt a flare up of pain as the searing blade burned across his ribcage. Using the Force to control his inertia, he didn't let himself worry about the pain, or the damage the cut had performed as he came out of the spin.

It had all been culminating to this point, hadn't it? Even as he appraised the unbeknownst doppelganger ahead of him - more so in the Force, than the limited light of their sabers - his battle-inclined mind was already working. A split-second was all he needed, springing at the Sith with an overhead slash to bring his first saber down, his other lingered in a guard before his second stabbed forwards, the rest of his body leaning into the plunging stab, as if to drive it through the Sith's copy entirely.

In the back of his mind, a voice less so told him in words, but encouraged him to keep going.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Nearby: Kahlil Noble Valery Noble


The moment that Kyrel long awaited for finally arrived, for what seemed like months he was bridged with Valery. He finall was able to strap her right he wanted her. Instead of facing her, his scowl slowly closed in on that of the man next to her. The man before him stepping in front, his true target facing down the beasts that were the bloody hands. They were snarling, drooling as if they found the Jedi woman the most delicious thing to sink jagged teeth into. Brandishing both rusty sword and old blasters for an intense mix of close combat.

Kyrel’s heavy steps against the duracrete showed he was brimming with rage. Vader’s Bane in his hands didn’t help either as the signature blade of Kyrel kept a symbiotic relationship with the blade. His eyes staring down the man, the tension reaching a boiling point as he sounded nervous. He could smell fear coming off of him, or at least the vaguest hint of it. He asked him that he thought the Ren hated the Sith. What he didn’t know was that it was far complicated than that. Wheels within wheels after all.

“Who do you think brought me back? Perhaps I hate you all just as much.” He said with just as much anger. As if being brought back had made him even more angry. The Hands slowly encroaching on the Jedi woman, noticing her violet blades ignite to engage the rabid stormtroopers. They decided to attack. The blades resistant enough to go toe to toe with sabers, they screamed and tried to swing for her head, and if not that her limbs to take a much out of.

Kyrel finally made his move on the nervous Jedi, launching one power attack to split him down the middle. It was then followed up by a bit across his face with his free arm. The move in itself showing some of the undead strength as if Kyrel had the strength of Ren men in that singular punch. His steps getting more aggressive as if both forces tried to push the Jedi until they were back to back.

 

[Dimitri Voltura]

END OF AN ERA​

ALLIES: Darth Ptolemis | Darth Solipsis | Halketh | Darth Saevius | Lord Letifer | Kyrel Ren | Kogdud'Kkurs | Thalia Senn | Zinn Zinn Bink'sa | NSO
ENEMIES: All Jedi
ENGAGING: Romi Jade | Briana Sal-Soren | Vizion Trozky | Lossa Darcuhl | Justice Lesan | @whoever else wants to ruuuuumble.
GEAR: In Bio

RETURN DRAGON FIRE​

The Dragon stood as a sentinel.

No weapon drawn. No aggression. Only a mere iron-clad effigy. His Apprentice, Darth Ptolemis , was ready, weapon in hand, but the Master remained in place, a deceiving calmness ebbing from him.

The Lord of the Sith could feel the strength within the Light approaching their position from between the jumbled, tainted mess of lesser strength surrounding it. For a predator like him, there was no mistaking the wealth of power heading towards him. He also tasted the presence of one of his own within the immediate vicinity - Lord Letifer .

The trap was sprung.

<The first one through that door is mine. Do with the rest what you will.> Dimitri told his apprentice through Force and Mind. <And Orlov - no mindless slaughter. We are not Crimson Hands.> he added the slight warning without a physical word as his crimson eyes remained on the compartment door.

And sure enough, the Presence was there.

The door whooshed open and the Dragon's gaze fell upon Romi Jade . His chin lifted slightly as he regarded her.
"Welcome, Master Jedi." he said calmly. "If you were looking for the explosives, you have found them." he then added as he spread his arms wide to indicate the crates all around.

"Do I need to caution you not to set them off?"

 

[Halketh]

PRIEST
THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW
DARK LORD OF THE SITH
C A E L I T U S
The Aegis of Woe | Lightsaber
The Perished | 410/440
// Zaka Dagon Kaze Jem Fossk Darth Solipsis \\

​

Light flashed, blades dancing in the spiraling darkness, a strobe of vaunted wrath punctuated in the finale by the sudden stench of rotten, boiled blood. The shadows swept away, the illusion unraveling from the impaled corpse Zaka 's blades hilted in, revealing a hollow shade of a Jedi woman. Glaring red eyes gawked at him in sunken sockets, her jaw hung wide, teeth made to snap together with the hunger she sought to satisfy. Sinuous hands reached for him, her weapon sent from her grasp by his counter previously, she posed little threat now.

"Stoicism in a time like this, my my, you must be mad." The Dark Lord's voice continued its taunt from his place on high, his boots carrying him with greater urgency to reach the padawan before further reinforcements could arrive. Dispatch one, demoralize the rest, a simple trade-off for the sake of amusement really, to torture the very same ilk who had forsaken him before. The grudge was as undying as his sorcery and twice as foul. Down the corridor, he flew, his hands churning the energy in the air to stir, deepening his stranglehold. Just as he started to delight in the sink of his talons into Zaka's psyche, that slow, cracking break of his resolve, a dancing flare dared defy his darkness. He was pushed back, his intangible grasp swatted back by the flame, and immediately, he understood the one Zaka was awaiting was far closer than he anticipated. It was a most unfortunate realization; that his time to torment was coming upon its end. United, the Jedi stood far better of a chance in breaking through his illusions, unraveling the sickening drape he had thrown over the palace.

While that ultimately mattered very little, it certainly would have dampened his mood.

Wrenched apart, his entwined fingers drew the writhing Darkness to a sudden stop, all motion within the twisting corridors brought to halt. The undulating walls ceased their dance. The churning walls froze, groaning in protest. The distant gurgles and growls of the dead fell to silence. Caelitus cocked his head, his senses expanding beyond, Sight filling his plate with their positions in his maze. Zaka had ventured further away from him, while the newcomer had managed to dive in far closer. Scarred lips pressed into a thin line, the miraluka considering his options briefly. Wearing down Zaka would consequentially drain the second intruder, given the support that was being offered. Perhaps the padawan was the gambit to be focused upon.

Through the abysmal dwelling, the energy ebbed like the tide, withdrawing briefly to lessen the veil. Familiarity was glimpsed then, his illusion flickering along its edges where he couldn't be bothered to maintain its might. No, his energy was needed for what came after. Those strangling walls, still paralyzed around Zaka, animated, tendrils of black flexing and peeling away from the stony patterns. The clatter of boots struck the floor, each shape taking a familiar form, manifesting another trio of doppelgangers to toy with his prey. The same armor. The same stance. The same saber clutched tightly in the left hand; all copies of the Dark Lord. Or were they?

A chill swept through the corridor, the weight of sickness coming down with the hammer of his Presence. No longer where he had ventured previously, the Dark Lord was known by proximity; his pestilence felt in heavy, nauseating waves. Not all of the doppelgangers were what they seemed, as much was learned from the first encounter, but now the threat was far, far more graven.

The Dark Lord stood amongst them.

With unnerving synchronization each snapped their left arm, activating the once sanctimonious blade to spew its vile light into the narrow hall. "As all things begin, so too must they end." The trio of tormentors chanted before they rushed forth, closing upon the Padawan with predatory delight, sweeping and cleaving each saber after a different limb. "He will never reach you in time, and what he will find will shatter him. Fight for what your life is worth, for both your fates hang in the balance; I'll accept no less."

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Location: Cato Neimoidia​

Objective: Head of the Snake​

Valery: Appearance​

Outfit: Factory Link​

Lightsabers: Link!​

Tag: Kahlil Noble Kyrel Ren | Closed​

​

With thunderous power and speed, Valery exploded through the first line of the Crimson Dawn, who stood ready to face the woman with large, rusty swords that captured their brutal beast-like nature perfectly. Twice before, had Valery seen them but in both instances, these rabid creatures had attacked her during the most vulnerable time in her life. Now that the baby was born and she had mostly recovered though, she was more than capable of handling them.​

​

Knowing that Kahlil would stand his ground and keep her rear covered, she maneuvred through the group, trying her best to weave between them so their blaster fire and wild swings were as big a threat to her as their own allies. Those who had the bright idea to try and get past her to go after her fiancé were the first to be cut down in her whirlwind of attacks, but at this rate, even those focused on her were up for being taken down.​

​

But as the fight continued at the level of intensity Valery had grown used to, she began to notice that she hadn't really recovered entirely. She was slower and sloppier than before, her skill deteriorating as the fight continued, and the presence of Kyrel forced painful images to slip into her mind. This culminated in one of her strikes not running through her target well enough. With her blade stuck in the dead body of a brute, another was able to level his blaster from behind.​

​

The bolt struck her between the shoulder blades and forced her down to one knee, as a jolt of pain echoed through her body, resulting in a scream that captured her brief moment of agony. But she knew stopping meant death, and before a second bolt could be fired, she was already back up and right up in his face to send him to the ground.​

​

More of the Crimson Dawn began to fall after, but she knew she had to get back to fight Kyrel. She felt his hatred and knew it was also up to her to confront it finally — it was meant to be. So as the beasts fell, she began to back up towards her fiancé, ready to assist him in the clash against the Wrath.​

​

​

 

[Vizion Trozky]

---

LOCATION	EQUIPMENT	OUTFIT	THEMES	TAGS
Leaving The Set --> the surface of Cato Neimoidia​	Two Lightsabers Golden-Bladed​	Jedi Robes Medium Armour​	Into The Fray​	Briana Sal-Soren | Romi Jade Justice Lesan | Lossa Darcuhl Dimitri Voltura | Darth Ptolemis ​

---

Watching the others exit the ship, he thought over the method of his own descent, a leap he had executed several times over the past decade, give or take, and when it was time he stepped up to the threshold, one hand finding purchase on a grip as he looked to the pink Zeltron who was the only one left with him. She was clearly stalling, a nervous energy that contrasted with the instructions crackling over his comm from Master Jade.

"Lossa..."

He reached with his other hand and gently tapped the other padawan on the arm, speaking a bit louder against the rush of air coming from the open hatch.

"...Lossa? Look at me."

He spared a glance to the cockpit, then looking back to the girl who looked like Briana painted with whole lot of blush and hair dye, "I can tell this is your first time, so I need you to listen carefully," he glanced out his periphery at the world below, "I can carry you, but when I jump I need you to hold on tight as if your life depends on it, and... just focus on what I'm doing and how I use the Force."

He watched to see if she understood, while sorting out the tethers that would also secure her to his back. He was willing to explain the process later should she have any questions... Force willing, if they all came out of this. Always the hazard of being a Jedi, dropping into a trap.

"You think you can do that?"