Campaign Devil You Know: Campaign to SJC Held Myrkr (Myrkr, Velmor, Orleon, Azure, Katarr)

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Den Velmor.
Objective: Evacuate civilians, keep friends alive.
Allies: Mathieu Brion ~ Inara Basai ~ SJC
Enemies: Joycelyn Zambrano ~ TSE
Loadout:

Spoiler

Weapons: The Wraith Blades, 2x TDW L-7 Heavy Pistol, 3x Proton Grenades, 3x Bacta Grenades, Crushgaunts.
Armor: Hexarium Bodyglove Mark II.

​

The blast of fire blinded her eyes for a second, ears ringing. Her forearms raised to cover her face in an instinctual attempt to shield away from the unexpected explosion. The expansive waves of the kinetic blast collided with her body and she could feel herself being pushed away, taking to the air and flying in some random direction as pain bit its way into her until it reached her very bones. The flames had licked at her forearms, although the general pain of the blast and the overwhelming feeling of darkness muddled her ability to pinpoint her own ailments clearly.

For a brief second, she had stopped sensing Mathieu and Inara and a deep fear took root within her. Had her friends died? Had she failed them? The feeling, even in such a short instant, threatened to consume her as she frantically reached through the Force, and suddenly it was replaced with something else. The presence of Inara, much fainter than it had been a mere moment ago, and Matt.

His pain, panic and his desperation burned through her with a rage that no fire could aspire to match. The stony walls of the cage that kept something hidden within her trembled in response, until a deep crack ripped itself onto them. Her friend's suffering had loosened the chain, and an anger that was instantly translated into cold, sharp-edged focus overtook her. This woman, this Sith had hurt the ones she cared for. Whispers she knew well broke through the chaos of Palm's mind, and a single word spoken in their sweetened, dark tone fell on her ears like a piercing knife: Parabellum.

The shadowed clarity they brought fished her out of her pain-riddled confusion. Her body reacted to its natural instinct to reposition itself not unlike a feline would until it was her feet the ones who were ready to welcome her fall. The Force coursed through her with an intensity it had lacked before, unleashed, and the very pavement of the avenue cracked beneath her once she had landed, another lick of pain crawling up her shins until it reached her knees. But the pain was only a distant bother to her now.

As the dust picked up by the Sith Lady's fiery display began to clear, Palm looked up to lock Joycelyn's gaze with her own. For a fraction of an instant, perhaps too short to be properly recognized, the golden eyes of the geminaie flashed in an intense and terrifying

Green.

There was a look in them that did not belong in the eyes of any Jedi's ally, one that spoke of ire and destruction. As swiftly as it had come it had disappeared, even if the darkened glare in them remained. There was a renewed intent, a determination that pushed her to go forward with a hunger that was unlike her. Her friend's were down, and their enemy was still a threat. One she would not allow to go unchecked so long as she still lived. Palm could call on the Force with an ease that had not been there before, fueled by a need to protect derived of anger, and it made her sudden race towards the Sith Lady something that almost rivaled the speed of the very Maelridae that had been sent to attack them.

There was a new strength in her body, and this feeling of power only fanned the flames that Joycelyn's own had ignited within the Ambassador. As soon as she had reached her enemy, her left hand surged forward taking her guard-shoto in a slashing motion, aiming for the woman's chest and hopefully trying to connect with the same spot she had found earlier near her shoulder while ready to fall back and defend herself it it failed.

Palm's own presence in the force was no longer the pristine neutrality it had been moment ago, there was a trace of wrongness in it.

And it was this wrongness that pushed her forward now.

 

[Sakadi Marathi Sinvala]

Location: Thustra, Sinvala Estate.
Objective: Face the past.
Equipment: Lightsabers, Cosaint Bracers, standard equipment (Bio)

Her lilac eyes clashed with the glowing red of her sister. The gaze of the Jedi Master revealed little, if nothing at all of the storm raging underneath the tranquil surface. Seeing how Maya was at ease with the suffering brought to their planet made her realize how gravely she had miscalculated. Maya Bir Sinvala had indeed fallen to the Dark side.

Another ball of fire traveled rose from the capital, followed by a quake twice as severe as the last. Soon, the violence would spread beyond the capital. It was only a matter of time before Lirk Ka would occupy the palace and ascend to the throne, if she wasn't there already. But Sakadi knew that conquering Thustra wouldn't be that easy. The Thustrans had too much pride and would not bow, nor give up their freedom without a fight. She had urged her people to leave before the planet became an active warzone, but she had her doubts that they would listen. Even so, if she could just save a few, she would've already made a difference.

Her focus returned to the matter at hand. The young Sephi who stood before her, no doubt angry... But why? "There's nothing left to do here Maya." She calmly responded, her tone growing stern as she lowered her hand. What was she supposed to do now? Force Maya to come with her?

She kept her breath slow and steady as a darkness began to take hold of the room. She would have been able to dispel the illusions of any normal opponent with ease, but not those of Maya. No, she couldn't bring herself to call upon the Force against her sister. There had to be a peaceful way to resolve this growing conflict.

"I never doubted you could, Maya." Sakadi continued. She kept her eyes trained on the younger Sephi, uncertain of what to expect next. "This house brings us nothing but suffering. What purpose is there in coming back to it? Don't you think it's time to move on?..." She decided to ignore the subtle insults woven in her sister's remarks, desperately clinging to the first line of the Jedi code as her guiding light as she prepared for what was to come.



Maya Bir Sinvala
​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Sith Emperor had been uncharacteristically impassive during the push towards Hyllyard City, letting his Blackblade Guard blaze the path forward while he trailed behind. Occasionally he reached out with his immense power to destroy those which directly impeded him, their ends brought on by vulgar displays of power. Fighters were knocked out of the air with a flick of his wrist, enemy soldiers and Mandalorians strung up in the trees with their limbs displaced at grotesque angles, and tanks and walkers crushed like tin cans.​

​

He hadn't even ignited his lightsaber.​

​

Fully immersed in the Dark Side of the Force, the Sith Emperor allowed his restraints to slip whenever a challenge had been presented before him. Squads of Mandalorian warriors supplemented by Jedi Knights routinely slipped through the gaps in the advancing front, and they too were destroyed without a second thought. With each Jedi that the Dark Lord struck down, he confiscated their fallen saber. Reaching into the lightsaber with the Force, the Emperor plucked the kyber crystal from its resting place and placed it into a small ornate satchel which contained the dozens of other kyber crystals he had collected. The Sith who now began to gradually congregate around him carried similar satchels.​

​

"The time is near at hand, my brothers and sisters. Join with me in preparation."​

​

There the Dark Lord and his faithful disciples stayed, now no longer advancing with the Blackblade Guard and other Sith-Imperial forces.​

​

Preparing.​

​

Coren Starchaser | WelshGuy | Mig Gred | K Kaine Australis
Kytana | Beltran Rarr | Torrack Torrackstur

 

[Ellie Mors]

Can't Go To Hell (If We're Already There)

O U T S K I R T S

The tearing sensation of steel carving through flesh, of metal hewn through by force-empowered strength, and the sickly-sweet sound of muscle and sinew being torn apart like a tape peeled back from skin brought a slow spread to his small grin. His apprentice, Quinn Varanin fought behind him - she favored the lightsaber, as he would have were he new binging on the pain his simple blade brought those it killed. Blood sprayed as he lifted his blade across the front of a Jedi's throat, tearing away cartilage and breaking through bone as their head was knocked from their shoulders. His grin had grown indeed - his red-splattered face was plastered with a wide smile that accentuated the glow of his red eyes.

"What is our status in the air, Slayer?"

The Yuuzhan Vong warrior to their side, amphistaff in one hand and staissi in the other, grunted in response as he manhandled a soldier that thought his armor could protect him from a living weapon with a blade sharp enough to contend with the destructive edge of a lightsaber. A series of blaster bolts bounced off his Vonduun chestplate, earning another visor-less Soldier the ire of the Slayer and the venomous spit of the Amphistaff he held in his hand, before the warrior would speak again. "The Sith armada is locked in a siege with the forces above - they have not yet broken through the shield that covers this ball of heretical mud." The grotesque Slayer replied with an intonation that implied frustration. This was, to put it bluntly, news that the Sith had not anticipated - he, and those currently locked in the battle above, had expected a much more straightforward domination of Myrkr, with some challenges due to the irritable fauna that now thrived on its surface.

The Shi'ido ducked to the side, dragging his apprentice with him by the wrist as a volley of blaster-fire opened up on their position, opting to avoid potential harm rather than rely on the degree of protection he and his Echani lover wore - a fabric woven of material his mother had created for dealing with the tools of the Republic and First Order in the past, particularly blasters. "What is their progress, then?" He shouted from behind a clump of rubble that he had moved behind, the Slayer slowly following the two Sith as he let thud-bugs loose to trade fire with the soldiers firing on their position. The trio hadn't engaged any single given enemy yet, though the proximity they shared with K Kaine Australis was a tempting chance to be sure, but Vesta's goal wasn't personal satisfaction through selective combat - he was here to conquer, to kill, and to rebuild.

Mandalorians were not included in his vision of that, nor the Jedi they fought alongside.

"The siege is slowed by the amount of Jedi help that has poured in, and the Mandalorians that are fighting tooth and nail to keep us out."

The smile, if it was even still present on his face, vanished.

"Perhaps another week of fighting if we're to be generous." The Slayer added, tearing a chunk of duracrete from the pile of rubble they were situated near to throw it with incredible precision at the helmet of a faceless soldier that came running towards their position, sending them careening to the ground to be taken out by Legionnaires that trailed behind them. If the shapeshifter wasn't frowning already, his expression was certainly beginning to shift to express his frustration now. "Then we move along with our secondary plan." Vesta replied with a snarl as his form shifted to something that suited the direction Myrkr would be taking. "The moon? But it's too far fr-"

"No, the asteroid. Give the order." The Sith Lord commanded as the comms link in his earpiece went live and broadcasted his words as far as its signal would carry - to Sith and those listening in alike.

"Yo'gand's Core."

​

 

[Kyra Perl]

Location: Touching down in Hyllyard City
Allies: Thirdas Heavenshield
Enemies: Lark
??????: Nida Perl​

Spoiler: Peeps I'm responding to

Look at me! Look at me! The beast inside of me is only getting bigger!

The boy flipped through the pages of The Nameless Prince, a children's storybook written by some local author on Myrkr. He had found it in the library of the orphanage he resided in, his only safe place of residence now that his brother had left him. The tale told the legend of a little prince without a name, and try as he might the boy could never find one that fit him. As time passed by the boy accepted his fate as an entity that would remain without any identity, without any purpose or reason for existing. The boy had read the story more times than he could remember, but he gripped onto to every page as though it were his first time experiencing that haunted calligraphy. Towards the end of the story The Prince came to boast about his lack of identity. Once he inherited the throne, he was able to devour any obstacle in front of him with ease. But despite the prince's natural ability to handle any issue his nation faced, he still longed for a name.

Smiling, the boy closed the book, and looked to his right. A vision of the little prince stood in front of him, none of the other children by the boy's side could see him. The two looked at each other with a mutual understanding. Who needs a name? I'm perfectly happy without one. The boy stood, and as he did another orphan climbed atop a small railing on the roof they gathered upon. In total five children were on the roof, though only two would walk across the railing today. The boy, of course, had already easily demonstrated his ability to cross the railing. Of the other two that would not walk, one showed equal skill and crossed the roof with only a brief misstep. The other hadn't made the crossing, but had shown enough strength to survive the fall. His right leg was in a splint, but he had shown his determination.

Together, the boy and The Prince gazed at the orphan as he swayed on the balcony. The boy only took them up on the windiest of days, that was the only way they could prove their strength. But the boy had predicted that neither of the two he convinced to make this ascent would survive. Indeed, the first of the two to attempt the crossing was not sure-footed at all. The child fell, and after a quick shriek and a few unnatural crunching sounds, silence filled the air.

After all, that's what we are, the boy said to the Little Prince. Nameless monsters.

"Such a shame," the boy said gently, staring at the unmoving body below. But there was one more child who might survive the journey. The boy looked at her with the sweetest of smiles. "Well then, its your turn."

​

Allies: Nida Perl
Enemies: Kyra Perl Thirdas Heavenshield

On one side of Lark stood a true friend, a woman who had helped him face truths and aspects of himself that he might never had had the courage to face had she not been present. On the other stood a vision, a little prince that hardly reached Lark's shoulders. He hadn't seen The Prince since he had left Myrkr, though he knew that wicked manifestation had been a constant companion of his. Whether The Prince was what brought out the monster within him or not, Lark could not tell for certain. But that phantasmal perception played some role in his journey. There might not be a single copy of The Nameless Prince left in the galaxy. But that didn't matter, for The Prince still existed within Lark's mind.

And as long as The Prince lived, so too would discontent thrive within Lark.

You told me once that no one needed a name, The Prince said to Lark. That we would be perfectly happy without one. But you lied to me. You lied to yourself. You've become fond of your name. So you've controlled yourself, no matter how bloodthirsty you've become. You're more ravenous than ever, but you've restrained yourself.

But soon your hunger will become too great.

For little more than a moment, Lark fell in line with The Prince. After all, the specter was right. Neither of them knew who they truly were, they shared a bond that was unlike any the acolyte shared. Nameless. Lost. Wandering.

Scared.

"I like this side of you. Please don't change, Lark."

He looked to his other side, and remembered the words his dear friend had spoken to him on Typha-Dor. Nida had been a lovely companion these past few weeks, but even her wonderous influence might not be enough to stall the infernal, monstrous tide that had been swelling within him. But her voice, her presence, that brought him such beautiful peace. When she spoke to him, it felt as though the snow was whispering into his ear, so peaceful was her tone. Winter and summer converged, no matter how cold Lark felt he could still feel her warm company. Had the two of them not been on Myrkr, she would have melted away any doubts he had.

All of this could have happened so differently, he thought sadly.

Nida pondered on what she should do in the event the worst of Lark showed itself, and as she winced in utter pain Lark could not control his own dismay. Lark hated seeing her in agony. He hated seeing anyone he loved in misery. And so when he saw Nida Perl wince in pain, Lark couldn't help but take her pain as his own. Just as his sister deserved none of the agony she experienced, so too did Nida deserve none of the torture she brought upon herself. If it were possible for Lark to tear reality apart and place himself in Nida's shoes, he'd do so.

"I don't know what's going to happen to me," Lark said. Nida couldn't see it, but The Prince was staring at her with eyes full of hatred. But Lark only gazed down at her with the kindest of expressions. "I can feel this... abhorrent hunger festering within me. If this gnawing craving grows, I know not what will become of me. In this instance, I will ask that you trust your own judgement. If you believe that I can fight this on my own, then leave me be. But if you see some potential for unforgivable harm within me, then do whatever it is you feel needs to be done. I recognize this is a heavy burden to place upon you. If I could steal every ounce of grief from you, I would do so without hesitation. But I once again find myself asking for your assistance. I've just started feeling so... hungry."

Lark could feel himself slipping away. The Prince was ripping away all of the defenses Lark had built over the years, exposing the nameless monster within him. He could only chuckle softly. Looks like I'm not as strong as I thought.

"Nida," he said gently. At this point he wasn't sure whether it was the monster speaking or some part of him that actually still cared for her. Either way, his smile was as warm as the sun. "Thank you."

"For everything."

​

Go West
Allies: Kyra Perl
Enemies(?): Lark | Nida Perl

As much as it went against his father's teachings, neither the city nor its people was their objective. Nida was. Finding her would make everything okay, wouldn't it? It had to, or life would never again be worth living.

Watching Kyra leap high into the air and land on top of a roof with the use of the Force, Thirdas turned westwards according to her instructions. "Military targets, huh?"

With Kyra joining him on the ground, Thirdas pulled out his rifle and stuffed a full mag into the empty slot. "Good. It's been days since I last shot someone."

Anyone standing in their way he would crush. They were so close.

Bounding through the streets and heading west through the city of Hyllyard, Thirdas made certain to clear each intersection before they'd cross the street into the next city block, scanning the surrounding area with the use of his mask granting him enhanced tactical awareness. They used the chaos to their advantage, slipping by troop movements and the occasional firefight.

Finally the unlikely pair reached the edge of the energy shield protecting the city. There was a swelling in his chest the closer they got to Nida's location, and by now that swelling had turned into a burning sensation. His breathing became more and more shallow, reaching a crescendo as the two hunkered down by some debris and Thirdas used his scope to zoom in on the forces arrayed on the other side of the shield.

He almost dropped his rifle when he spotted her. That violet hair was unmistakable.

His throat dried up.

"She... she looks exactly the same," he uttered, more so to process it for himself than to inform Kyra. Same as the day they were parted.

Part of him wished nothing more than appear before her, hoping his mere presence would be enough to shake off the mind control the Sith were no doubt utilising to keep her pacified. He would've, were it not for the Sith troops accompanying her.

"How do you wanna play this," he asked Kyra. He could only kill so many before they were inevitably overrun.

ALLIES | Lark
ENEMIES? | Kyra Perl | Thirdas Heavenshield

For as long as she’d known him, Lark was gentle. Even when they had first met as enemies, she could see the regret on his face and feel the way it resounded through his person. Since then, he’d been kindly to her. The only hints she had about the monster stirring inside of him were from Lark himself verbalizing his fears. Whatever this was, he feared that he would be lost entirely. Nida feared that as well.

What he’d said last about hunger had disturbed her the most. As if he were ashamed of the inevitable.

Nida could feel her own level nerves fraying rapidly as Kyra and Thirdas drew near. Jedi or Sith, the Zeltron always strove to help those she cared for. With her sister and estranged lover on the scene, she feared that she would not be able to help Lark.

“Do not concern yourself with my grief.” Her tone was not scolding, but gentle and distant as her eyes locked onto the flash of red that seemed to be growing brighter, and the large figure alongside it.

Her heart wasn’t steady, but she was too absent to count the fluctuating beats. “You have a much bigger battle to fight, Lark.” She turned to him now, barely able to tear her eyes from the approaching heartache. "You've shown me that there is good in you. Even if there is a monster as well, draw from the kindness you've shown me. I don’t know how much I can do against you if you turn towards a path too dark. But please, spare those who I love.” Her voice nearly died in her throat, words strangled as she tried to sort out her thoughts.

Spare those who I love.

I love them.

I love them?

I…

It didn’t make sense, but it had to. She would make sense of everything, even if it killed her.

“Kyra,” She called out, a note of genuine desperation in her voice. Don’t get too close.

“Please. Let’s talk this out. I’ll help you understand.” She purposely avoided looking at the masked man to her side. Even with his face covered and his hair grown out, her body burned with the sensation of his presence. How could it not, after all the time they’d spent together? Night after night, they’d curl up on that cramped mattress and find a peaceful sleep in each other’s arms. How could she give up something like that, someone who loved her so much, who she adored in return?

And yet, something equally primal in her hated him. She didn’t understand it.

But she would make sense of everything.

She had to.

How did she want to handle it?

Kyra stood frozen, gaping at the familiar face of her sister. She hadn't thought their encounter would be like this-- random and unplanned. She still didn't have answers. They had barely gotten their hands dirty in their search and now... here she was.

Alive.

Looking unharmed.

Kyra took a step forward, her body feeling like it was floating as the war scene opened up before them. None of it reached her, not anymore. The screams of fear, the fire in the sky, the turmoil...

It all melted to the backdrop as she stepped up to the shield, a hand reaching out to rest against the invisible barrier that only she could cross. "Nida," she breathed, emotion bubbling out of her voice.

“Kyra,” Nida called out, a note of genuine desperation in her voice.

“Please. Let’s talk this out. I’ll help you understand.”

Kyra's heart jumped in her throat, her sister's offer more than she could have dreamed of.

"I knew it was still her. She won't hurt me." She murmured to Thirdas. It was him who Nida had attacked last time. Him who Nida had been lost to. Clearly, their sisterly bond ran deeper. "I got this," there was every bit of confidence in her voice as she stepped through the shield-- a one way ticket to the choice she made.

"What do they have against you? Is it that Senator thing? Because I have the tape. The whole tape. I can exonerate you. The GA senator was corrupt, he was hurting you-- you had no choice! You can come home, Nida." Her eyes shot to the man standing besides the elder Perl ( Lark ), the attention hostile as the world ended around them. She extended her hand, the cybernetic reflecting the dying sun.

"I will protect you from them"

 

[Torrack Torrackstur]

Location: The playground

Currently in a tank this unit uses(tank is in the description): https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/midr-karilyar-tank-crew.143202/#post-1958832

Former Primary Objective: Conduct guerilla warfare within the forest's of myrkr, making it difficult for them to even get to the city of Myylard city.

New Primary Objective: Attempt to capture the emperor's daughter.

Secondary Objective: Fight till the bitter end in the jungle, kill as many as possible should the city fall
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Allies: Forjund Australis K Kaine Australis WelshGuy other MU and Silver Jedi Forces

Enemies: Sith forces , Aristeia Zambrano
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Gear:

Beskad Sword: https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/rancors-wrath.143205/#post-1961099

Armor: https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/torracks-beskargam.141494/#post-1943718
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Units commanded currently:

Elite Tank unit: https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/midr-karilyar-tank-crew.143202/#post-1958832

5 units of these guerilla's): https://www.starwarsrp.net/threads/kaeayr-jag-minute-men.143249/#post-1959296

1 at 100%

2 at 80%

1 at 70%

1 at 60%
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With some of the prominent and notable ships of K Kaine Australis fleet falling into the the planets surface, the home of the gamorean would begin to scar the same way that the sith scarred the surface of mandalore. Some of the explosion likely killing several soldiers on both sides that were of course engaged in the jungle here. Debris flew into the outskirts of their isolated skirmish between there forces, killing several guerillas that were slowly spreading out to engage these armored units. However the situation was beginning to worsen, somehow, their forces were gathering orders. These orders were to search and destroy the guerillas fighting desperately against sith oppression. The skirmish between these two forces continued onward, until Kaine Australis and other sith forces entered the battlefield on different flanks of the battlefield. However, history would remember how the first slug shot for mandalorian independence around the galaxy would be fired by a mandalorian union guerilla. This shot would be the shot heard around the galaxy, that men under Torrack Australis would begin the great jungle battle far away from the city. A mandalorian refusing to give up his home without a fight, without making sure the sith faces would see fury from the eyes of the porker warrior! It may sadden the gamorean to see his beautiful home be brutalized in this manner, but homes can be rebuilt. Surrendering is never an option to the ferocious berserker, but the battle was slipping away from regardless. The tank commander would not let some fancy and blonde haired barbie in his eyes, beat him on his home the very place he grew up! It was time to give her a visit, now that her personal tank seemed to be falling backwards as the Midr Karilyar did what they did best. He would speak to his crew who were now responsible for many sith casualties already in the beginning stages of the fight, "WE TAKE THE FIGHT TO THEM, squeak squeak LETS SHOW THIS FANCY SMANSHY BARBIE DOLL THAT WE WONT QUIT! HOINK HOINK WASTE THE MOTHER FETHERS!" .

Without a word the crew would work together in harmony, hunting another tank to it's destruction through yet another carried out ambush.The tree's rattling as the tank's main gun fired in unison with the daka turrets with punishing armaments raining down on the poor and unsuspecting crew. "BOOOM! BOOOOM! BOOOOOOM!" , the hunk of invading machinery exploded, the sith crew likely burning alive with chilling screams as the destroyed tank burned. Eventually the sith would have to investigate where her armored units were disappearing, and deal with the thorn in her ass. Otherwise the rally master would continue to punish her forces, this tank unit was known to be stationed her. Knowing every single road, jungle path, and dirt road available that would lead to the very city this force sought to travel too. The guerillas themselves were also slowly whittling down due to combat, while they were dangerous in the initial ambush, they were not made for long term combat. As a result the more traditional forces were starting to inflict suffering casualties, againest the unorthodox mandalorian guerilla's.

One thing was certain, as long as her forces were hauled up with pop shots from snipers, rocket crews, and of course the known Midr Karilyar. Then the siege would struggle to be a success, the armorclad warrior knew this. The crude being also knew that if he could get the sith to isolate herself in a fight with the furious defender. That his men would take care of the rest, many knew they were not making this out alive. But sacrifices like this were worth it, especially if it meant capturing the empress's daughter.

However, the more important factor and question is, would the blondie take the bait?

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Dueling: Mig Gred
Location: Outside the city in a pile of debris.
Gear: Personal armor, Judicator, KS-9 'Firestorm' Grenade x2, Sonic Imploder x2, Vibroknife x2

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
​

"An unfortunate occurance for you!" Cara spat before stepping away from under the unusual saber's path. If the Force had been available to her she would have seized the blade and tossed it aside. This time that action would have seen his attack bite deep into her cybernetics, perhaps even lopping off an entire limb if it hit bare durasteel.

She weaved out from the saber's strike, still applying her martial footwork while keeping her arms up in a partial guard. Cara was no bladesman yet reading the Mand'alor's body language made his intention with the swing clear, giving her enough confidence to keep within range of the blade while delivering a reply.

She allowed him time to reach the bottom of his swing before dipping her posture, aiming the left punch to strike upwards into his ribs.

Static coughed through her comm as a division-wide message was chopped through,

"Yo--Tss Corrr--"

For that moment Cara put aside the cryptic message in favor of applying focus where she believed mattered. She remembered his name, that he was known as Alor Mig Gred. She remembered he was an unusual occurance within a seemingly unvaried collection of Mandalorians, being that he used the Force and fought, at least vaguely similar, like a Jedi.

She also remembered the question she asked him on Mandalore. He proved to be another dead end in a search that had only recently ceased.

Mentally she cursed him for sparking the memory and wished to do nothing but fold him in his armor. Unfortunately her anger could only boil in her heart, the usual syphon of emotion stopped by the wicked fauna.

 

[Caden Evesa]

He was innocent.

Caden knew that, he knew how innocent he was and how he been raised sheltered from the horrible truths of the galaxy. He knew that he had never seen true violence, especially having been lucky enough to avoid the carnage and destruction that was caused at Yurb.

No longer was he going to be innocent though. No longer was he going to be sheltered. He was looking at, as far he was concerned, his end. The fear that washed over him froze him in place and the dark side that radiated from the man in front of him was something he had never felt before.

The young man was about to see true violence.

The fight between he and Amani Serys was child play compared to the fight he was about to be involved in, of that he was certain. He was certain that a fight was going to be unavoidable, the figure on the beast looked like he craved chaos and violence, craved the suffering and pain of others.

He had to duck, the tail of the creature skimming the hairs on his head. Everything was happening quickly and Caden was sure without his trust in the force he'd be dead. The force was practically moving for him, keeping him from harm.

Another tree fell down as the tail of the creature struck it.

The man who stepped from the beast was the cause of the fear, the cause of the overwhelming darkside presence that was tearing through the forests. The man was what Caden viewed as death with a body. The man was going to be the end of Caden and he could do nothing about it.

The yellow blade slid from the lightsaber hilt.

Caden adopted the opening stance for Makashi, the stance that he had been taught by Damian Starchaser . He didn't know what it was going to do, he was almost certain the man in front of him could kill him in one move if he so wished. He was absolutely sure he was going to die.

"To who do I owe the pleasure?"

Darth Prazutis

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Empress Regent of the Eternal Empire, Overlord of the Eternal Empire, the Emperor's hand
The Red Witch; Director of Blackwatch; Baroness of Vengard, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Vegemite Temple, Myrkr
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | 2x red blade lightsaber shoto | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | Shield talisman | G1 OmniLink | Empyrean gland | Taozin amulet
Space forces: 4/4 Adjudicator II-class Star Destroyer (under Thaelius 's command)
Ground forces: 2.000/2.000 Ultranauts | 2.000/2.000 Infinites (under Telis Taharin-Zambrano 's command)
Enemies: Finley Dawson

Background music:
Sabaton – Rise of Evil​

It soon became clear that her normal disguise (Force ability) should have been used, not her armour, as the other had detected it at the last minute and successfully evaded the attack. Based on reflexes and speeds, the red-haired woman thought her opponent could be a Force User or Force Sensitive. It was also a situation where Ingrid would have been happy to have the sniper rifle with her. Because her opponent will constantly play to evade her because of his long-range weapon. Which didn’t make the fights too pleasant.

She could hear the other person flying out of the air as it flew there. The one who was with the man and Ingrid was considered less dangerous. The question was when she/he would land and would intervene in the fight as well or not. But since this did not happen yet, she just watched it through the Force and turned all her attention to her opponent in front of her.

And her opponent switched guns. She was actually hoping the other one would finally someday bring out a melee weapon, but another firearm. The Overlord sighed softly, so it really would never end. She didn't want to know what ammunition the weapon was working with, but even though she had good armour now, she wouldn't want to test its resilience. However, she did not want to reveal any of her own abilities.

So she tried to move towards her opponent as fast as possible - without Force speed - in a slightly sideways direction. Ingrid tried to reach the man's side, if she could, to attack the gun again, but this time she was already trying to hit the man's hand as well. She had no intention of cutting off the other’s arm, it was enough for her to injure her opponent because of the poison on the sword that was causing pain, giving her an advantage over the armoured figure. Of course, she made sure that if she shot the other, she would be able to defend herself against it.

​

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Joycelyn’s stuff: Lightsabre pike, Zaudraka, Jin’wodasir x3, Imperator’s Raiment, SIF-7 Minos, Dwomotchwûq, Sonic Grenades x 2
Armies: The Cathedra, Varanin Legion.
Sithspawn: Horde Mother, Sith Wasps, Spark Bug, Maelridae.
Inara Basai Palm-Imer Mathieu Brion

The cinders sing your praise...
​

In the wake of the blast, Joycelyn felt her knees buckle, and her mind buzzed as if she had just been socked on the jaw by someone her own size; she had fought her sparred with her father often enough to know how that felt. Her feet were unsteady, her ears ringed, her vision blurred. Though her overt senses rang from the feedback of the burned lignan and the exertion of the blast, the Force did not stop speaking to her.

In the wake of the explosion she had unleashed, their surroundings were left dry and blackened. Its perimeter was covered in the debris of the surrounding speeders, but also the broken chitin and mangled flesh of her own sithspawn. The black-armoured giant reached up to her helmet and seized the visor, then pulled the helmet off her head and let it fall to the ground.

Her black hair moved under the caress of the smoke-filled breeze as the scent of ash, heated metal, and burned flesh filled her nostrils.

Joycelyn barely had time to see the change in Palm’s eyes before the woman rushed in against the princess of black iron. Her speed was incredible: Palm covered the sizable distance between them in a split second and launched into an attack. Meanwhile, Joycelyn barely had time to solidify her stance and ready herself to defend. While her ears were still ringing, she felt the force calling her attention to her shoulder, which still burned as if a blade was embedded in it.

Her hands did not dart up to defend herself against the slice. She knew she was too late to avoid it, and whether she could place it on a tougher part of her armour was up in the air against such a quick attacker, not while her senses were this clouded. But there were still things she could do.

Sing your praise in a litany of pain.
​

Palm’s blade cut into Joycelyn’s shoulder, and the Sith sank a little from the blow. Rather than stop it, her right hand shot quickly up to Palm’s sabre, seeking to clamp down on her hand or wrist with full force and trap her within reach, if that meant the sabre would stay in her shoulder and cook her flesh, then so be it.

Meanwhile, the left hand balled into a fist and shot out against Palm’s head in a swift hook. As she punched, a broad blade extended from the top of the fist, making a sharp point for rending flesh upon impact. Whether the punch impacted or not, her fist opened as the sithsword at her side shot out of its sheath and into her waiting hand.

“That’s better!”

The pain, the death, the anger and despair of those around her, it all fed the dark side of the Force. She could feel the ripples of Mathieu's anxiety, the pain in Inara, and the anger blossoming in Palm. All of it pushed Joycelyn toward the fiery embrace of rage; she could feel it crawling up her spine, tickling the back of her mind, teasing, begging, screaming to be set free.

 

[Caedyn Arenais]

Starship: "The Vagabond" Heavy Assault Cruiser.
NPC's: Vagabond Senior Officers.
Personal Inventory: Caedyn's Jedi robes, Armistice Lightsaber.
Opponent: Open.​

​

The Crew worked diligently to the Vagabond encircle the invading fleet, moving around it's flank in order to come alongside the allied vessels staging off against the attack; Captain Gene Whayeson continued to shout across the bridge, relaying orders and listening to the reports coming back from her Officers whilst Caedyn watched the scene unfolding across the sector of naval warfare.

As far as the official command structure went aboard the vessel, Caedyn Arenais was more-so an advisor if anything else, not technically part of the crew yet the benefactor having commissioned the vessels design and creation as well as selecting the senior crew themselves. They were each hand picked, and he had come to know and trust in them greatly. Even so, his skills were not in the tactics of naval command and so he resigned himself to watching with a worn, tired look strewn over him as Starships lobbed devastating fire against one another and Starfighters could be seen burning out into nothing as they were each shot down and blown to space dust by the opposing side.

The Vagabond itself hadn't sustained too greater damage, the Sith Fleet seemed focused on other priority targets from what Caedyn could make out, and even their own allied vessels seemed to be too busy defending themselves to relay requests for aid. Turning to cast his gaze against the dull glow of Myrkr's atmosphere, Caedyn wondered if they weren't better off focusing on the surface.

"Captain..." Caedyn called out over top of the others, turning away from the viewing platform and looking across the bridge to her Command Station, "If we're not required here, we could offer considerable assistance were the Vagabond to break orbit and come overhead of Hyllyard City, could we not?", if the worst were to occur, the Vagabond could carry a significant amount of passengers, refugee's fleeing a broken world should the Sith overcome them here.

"Frankly, the prospect of saving lives sounds preferable than being responsible for taking them...".

 

[Mig Gred]

​

Dueling: Cara Dorniarn
Location: Outside the city, in the woods.
Units: 1st MIL Battalion "Netherhounds", 1st Armored Platoon "Wraith Division", Star Angles, Banshee Squadron (12 8-R Toscans), 2 Jai'galaar Bes'uliik
Gear: Lightsaber Trayc'kad, Echani Vibrosword given to him by Kat Decoria , Mandalorian amor, comms unit, Slick Anti-Acid Coat, Sith vibroknife, Nightbrother Fighting Knife, a pair of Taak'tabi, a pair of Hissing Ghosts

Mig looked at the Sith as she avoided his strike, and quickly used his followthrough to whip himself around quickly. He narrowly avoided the punch as he turned around, looking at his opponent. He looked from behind his visor. Mandalore was a long time ago, but he still remembered that day. The knife that she drove into his gut that was now on his belt, and what they did when the Mando's in the mines might have been freed. It drove him now. He wasn't here to free anyone like Mandalore. He was here to stop a charge to Eshan, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to let his past with Sith drive him. Like they said of many Mandalorians: Long memory. Short fuse.

Mig would jump back, quickly firing a Hissing Ghost before running in for a quick strike. Something had come into his helmet from an open comm channel, but he honestly didn't understand it. Right now he was focused on Dorniarn. He was going to take her out, or at least hold her back.

Tags: WelshGuy K Kaine Australis Coren Starchaser Beltran Rarr Darth Carnifex Aristeia Zambrano Kytana Darth Carnifex

Fora looked up, growling a little as she fired another shot, but she soon noticed one of the Jedi fighters nearby. He was apparently like her, a bow user. She smiled a little before hearing the T-1 rolling up, along with the rattleing of two Reaper droids walking with it before they began to fire. Two railguns and 2 particle cannons. All firing into the enemy. She would quickly call on the Netherhounds to join up with the SJC unit before running up to the archer.

"So, do you think we can win, Jedi?"

Above, the fighters would be struck hard, but they would realiate, striking the enemy fighters back.

 

[Inara Basai]

Location: Den Velmor
Objective: Assist with defense of the planet, evacuate civilians
Allies: Mathieu Brion , Palm-Imer , SJC
Enemies: Joycelyn Zambrano , Sith
Loadout:

Spoiler

-Combat Medic Armor
-Predator Assault Projectile Rifle loaded with Incendiary rounds and normal 10mm slugs

• Medical Backpack & Supplies
• Ranger's Field Pistol
• Cracken Combat Knife
• Tactical Teddy Bear!

She felt his presence before she could see him or register that he was actually there.

Inara heard Mathieu's voice, calling her name. It sounded distant, very far away. But the tone of his words beckoned, and she followed. As consciousness hit her, she was instantly bombarded by the sound of the battlefield, which made her mind feel all the more jumbled.

“M-Matty,” she murmured and the taste of blood was on her lips.

There was warmth, soft like a blanket. And there was light, healing the wound, closing it up. It wasn't until that moment, Inara was able to truly make sense of what had happened. The impact of the twisted piece of metal had knocked her clear off her feet, a jagged side had pierced her chest below the collar bone, and the force of hitting against the barricade behind her must have knocked her out. Or a combination of it all.

Everything hurt; everything was still a blur.

But there, in the chaos – was Mathieu, his presence lingering at her side and around the wound he'd just worked to heal. Inara fell against him, arms wrapped desperately around him. And she held tight to him, almost clinging to the fabric of his tunic.

“I'm okay. I'm okay,” she whispered, over and over, trying to reassure him – and herself, too.

The battle wasn't over, she sensed that – with the darkness that seemed to loom so close. But there was something pure here, too, that the darkness could not touch. And it would radiate around them, like an aura of light.

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran Rarr

Location: Jungles around Hyllyard City
Objective: Pushing forward against the advancing Sith, trying to force a confrontation with Kytana's (If you want, no pressure)
Allies: SJC and allied personnel, directly supporting Torrack Torrackstur , Forjund Australis and associated Clan Australis forces, responding to K Kaine Australis
Enemies: Sith marching on Hyllyard City, firing in the general vicinity of Kytana
Loadout:

• Armor: Katarn Mk. II Combat Armor
• Clothing: Katarn Undersuit, Bantha Load-bearing system
• Primary Weapons: 10mm Pulse Rifle
• Secondary Weapons: Death-Dealer Handcannon (drop holster, right hip - loaded with Sith-Killer Ammunition), Pulse Pistol (chest holster) Lightsaber (clipped to waist), Lightsaber Pike (strapped to back), Wrist Mounted Blaster (right wrist), Tactical Vibroblade (right boot)

Commanding: Paladin Company (150 Rangers)

Beltran led his Paladins forward, peppering the already destroyed jungle canopy with pulse blasts even as the fires of the artillery strikes still raged. Like men possessed, the Rangers pushed their line forward-meeting the surviving Sith forces with sheer ferocity. It was a good thing that Sith soldiers were not predisposed toward surrendering, since the Paladins were in such a frenzy of war-making that any calls of mercy would likely have gone unheeded.

Whether Sith regulars, or Force-animated corpses, or whatever manner else of Sith brutality the Rangers encountered, they tore into the enemy like predators running down their prey. All around him, pulse blasters and blaster bolts flew. Rangers struggled against their enemies, striking in hand-to-hand combat with knives, swords, bayonets and their bare hands when the fighting got too close for firearms.

Stepping out of the path of an enemy sword strike, Beltran swung the butt of his rifle at the helmeted soldier's head. It connected hard enough to send the being stumbling backward onto the ground. Kicking the sword from his opponent's grasp, Beltran straddled the man and forced the barrel of his weapon up and underneath the lip of the enemy's armor. He then let fly perhaps half a dozen pulse blasts, turning what had been his opponent's head into a pile of steaming slag.

Standing, Beltran dropped his rifle and pulled his lightsaber from his waist. Activating the orange blade, he stalked forward and ducked under another Sith soldier's attack. Coming up quickly, he impaled his quarry through the chest and let him fall. Next he moved onto a small group of shambling corpses, easily separating them from the appendages necessary for them to continue existing.

It was true that he had lost sight of the sniper, but for the Sith forces in the jungles surrounding Hyllyard City, he had become a demon-beast of slaughter and death instead.

::This is Kaine Australis to all forces. Push forward and surround the enemy. Blast these scum from the face of our world!::

With a grin of white teeth splattered with bits of blood and gore, Beltran keyed his comlink and responded, his voice dark and menacing.

"Welcome to the battle, Field Marshal. Glad you could make it. I'll try to save you some leftovers."

 

[Mathieu Brion]

Location: Den Velmor, Velmor
Equipment: Ashlas wristguard | Blaster pistol with a stun setting | Stun baton | Two Lightsabres | Brion Substance Regulator | Electromagnetic pulse emitter | Jedi Robes
Allied tag: Inara Basai | Palm-Imer
Hostile tag: Joycelyn Zambrano

He could not remember when he last felt as relieved as he did now. Inara's eyes opened as the worst wounds seemed to heal. Still, the danger was not over and he continued the process. Soon, her voice could be heard - it was weaker than normal, more distant. "Inara, I'm here. Right here. Hold out, okay?" it was four short sentences, sentences which he came to repeat during the process, just to let her know that he was nearby and caring for her. Although he tried his best to keep a stable voice, a few cracks in it could from time to time reveal how concerned and worried he really was.

The larger battle for the city behind them was still raging on at full. Artillery shells kept hitting strategical locations, blasters kept going off and the skies were still filled with starfighters. The situation for the defenders up in the skies was grim and while the anti-air encampments were mostly under Concord control, they were far fewer than earlier during the fight. But then, the atmosphere started to shift. One freighter after another started to sweep in. They were not built for combat, that much was clear - but a good pilot and a couple gunners could go a long way and from the ground, it would seem as if locals with ships had come to save the day and allow for more refugee transports to take off.

In this instance, all of that unimportant to Mathieu.

Inara's consciousness seemed to return fully - at least that was how he wanted to interpret her hug. Without hesitation, he wrapped his own hand around her back as the other went up her spine and neck to support her head. For a few moments, he held her as tight as he dared to whilst letting out a relieved whisper "Thank the stars. Thank the stars for that" he said, barely capable of containing how relieved and infinitely happy he felt.

The danger was not over, but for a few moments, it was as if he was locked in a trance and simply cherished the fact that she was still with him. But he knew that he needed to go. He could not let Palm carry on the struggle on her own. With his mouth close to Inara's ear "Will you be alright?" he asked, knowing that leaving without her confirming so would be nigh on impossible.

 

[Palm-Imer]

Location: Den Velmor.
Objective: Evacuate civilians, keep friends alive.
Allies: Mathieu Brion ~ Inara Basai ~ SJC
Enemies: Joycelyn Zambrano ~ TSE
Loadout:

Spoiler

Weapons: The Wraith Blades, 2x TDW L-7 Heavy Pistol, 3x Proton Grenades, 3x Bacta Grenades, Crushgaunts.
Armor: Hexarium Bodyglove Mark II.

​

Palm was had never been one to disguise truths until recently, and she knew it would be a lie to tell herself she wasn't a killer. It was not something she enjoyed, nor something that brought her pride. These were the ropes of the trade, and she had accepted them. But right now, for the first time, there was a desire to kill that had never been there before. This was no longer about taking out another enemy in the fields of war, it was not just about protecting the ones she held close to her heart.

This was being out for blood.

Her sudden bout of speed had allowed her to get to the place where she was most comfortable at, up close and personal with her enemy. Close quarters combat had always been her calling, and now that this dark motivation coursed through her veins like poison, Palm felt more powerful than ever before. It was intoxicating. As her blade connected with the desired mark, she put pressure onto it, completely absorbed for a moment in the pursuit of injuring the Sith woman.

Palm could feel a hand wrap firmly around her wrist, locking her attacking arm in place. It was this gesture alone the one that pulled her out of the sudden aggressive frenzy in which her mind had gone too, and then she felt it in the Force and saw out of the corner of her eye as a fist approached her head at an impressive speed. She had let part of her guard down in favor of causing damage and pain, and this in turn means she was hard pressed for seconds to react to Joycelyn's counterattack.

Her body acted out of its refined muscle memory alone, adjusting to the movements of her opponent like only a master of Kyr'ret martial arts would be capable of. But that wouldn't save her completely. A sharp, stinging pain flared up her neck as she felt the blade slice into the skin right below her jawline, which would begin to bleed quickly and abundantly as any wound in this location would. It had barely been shallow enough to not be life-threatening, the fact that had she been a fraction of a second slower would have made the difference sent a chilling shock down her spine.

Her head had moved backwards, and that necessarily meant that her body followed this motion and therefore some of the pressure her guard shoto had been weighting in on Joycelyn's shoulder was gone. Instead, Palm used the regulator on the guard-shoto's hilt to make the blade more intense and then allowed the adaptable perpendicular grip of the saber to turn in her own hand until the blade of the saber was falling directly towards the wrist of her opponent. Hopefully, the increased power of the blade aimed at the joint point of her armor would be enough to sever or heavily damage her wrist. Alternatively, maybe the prospect of this being a possibility would be enough for Joycelyn to let go.

Palm ignored the feeling of warm, violet blood beginning to run down the side of her neck. She would have liked to assess her wound, but neither the situation nor the darkness that had seemed to permeate its way onto her allowed for such a distraction to live for long in her currently combat-absorbed mind. She could feel Mathieu and Inara, but had no way of knowing if help would be able to come soon, so she proceeded with the worst case scenario in mind: no aid was coming.

While her attempt to free once more her main hand was launched, Palm's free hand came up, bringing her second guard-shoto close ready to defend against the sword that Joycelyn had summoned to her fist.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"I am the hunter of the embracing dark."​

​

Unceremoniously, the surrounding Sith produced their satchels of harvested kyber crystals and deposited them into a large pile at the group's center. Arranging themselves in a complete circle, the Sith began to chant in the dark language of their forebearers. They waved their arms in symbolic gestures, lightning dancing from fingertip to fingertip as the air around them shimmered with latent energies. The Dark Lord added his own voice to the congregation, red lightning crackling as he was the first to imbibe the pile of kyber crystals at their center with the power of the Dark Side.​

​

"I am the bringer of fear."​

​

The rest quickly joined in, their lightning joining the Dark Lord's own. His power overshadowed their own, and they became enthralled in his strength of the Dark Side. As the lightning raked the kyber crystals over and over again, they gradually began to lose their bright vibrant green and blue hues for a dark, almost black, reddish tint. ​

​

"I am the scorner of peace and tranquility."​

​

One by one, the kyber crystals at their feet overloaded with energy and shattered. The energy released by each explosion was then caught and corralled by the web of lightning which had been cast over it. Gradually, the pile diminished to nothing as each crystal was destroyed by the assembled Sith. They harnessed that latent energy in a large sphere at the group's center, condensing and injected more and more power directly into it.​

​

"I ride the storm cloud and the night!"​

​

They slowly raised their hands towards the sky, the orb of writhing energies follow their movements.​

​

"I seek to crush the commonplace."​

​

They directed its energy further up, a pillar of crackling electrified light rising up into the clouds above.​

​

"I seek to strike terror in every heart."​

​

Strands of energy crackled as they danced over the hulls of starfighters caught too close to the energy pillar's vicinity, causing them to spiral out of control and crash to the ground. ​

​

"I know no passion or pity."​

​

The energy, directed into the atmosphere, fanned out very rapidly. It spread along every cloudbank, danced throughout the air, a virulent web of incandescent lights spreading out like spilled water in the skies above the city and the valiant defenders.​

​

"I seek to be Sith in all its manifestations."​

​

Then the energy descended, manifesting as bolts of lightning which rained down continually and seemingly without end. They struck at the city, the defenders, Mandalorian, and Jedi, while purposefully avoiding the advancing Sith armies and their retainers. The Dark Lord of the Sith was the conductor of this magnificent display, and the Sith who had joined together were nothing more than fuel to keep the flame alight for as long as possible. Each second that ticked by drained more and more of their life force, as they were bound now to the energy which continued to rain down across the battlefield.​

​

Had the Sith been forced or manipulated into partaking in this ritual, they could have resisted and rebelled against the Dark Lord's will that directed them. But they were not, they were told for what purpose they would be used and they were more than eager to serve the Dark Lord in this capacity.​

​

For their faith and devotion were second to none.​

​

Coren Starchaser | WelshGuy | Mig Gred | K Kaine Australis
Kytana | Beltran Rarr | Torrack Torrackstur | Taeli Raaf

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Eyes that were previously closed in stoic contemplation now opened, the red light which poured out from the burning halos suspended in oceans of utter blackness. The ritual was briefly abated, giving the defenders their needed respite from the Emperor's onslaught for the time being.​

​

Rising from where he had knelt alongside his companions, the Emperor turned slightly to look at the new arrival.​

​

Kaine Australis.​

​

A most frustrating thorn in the Sith Empire's side, and among one of their most wanted for execution.​

​

Now at last, within his grasp.​

​

"Australis," spoke the Emperor with barely restrained venom, "How kind of you to join us." His eyes swept up and around to look at all the probes and drones that had followed the former Mandalorian Warmaster.​

​

Something sprung out from the edge of the forest nearby, a small fist-sized projectile that flew through the air like a missile. It connected with one of the hovering Companions, and for a quarter of a second nothing happened. And then an explosion ripped through the Companion, killing the Ysalamiri inside and sending the burning wreckage down to the ground below. From the shadows of the forest emerged a Yuuzhan Vong warrior, one of a great multitude that had been leased from Ellie Mors at the Emperor's request and kept hidden on the transports which ferried down the main attack force.​

​

The object which destroyed the Companion had been a blast bug, a more volatile cousin of the Nang Hul or thud bug. Gradually, one by one, more and more Yuuzhan Vong appeared on the very periphery of the forest.​

​

Snap-hiss.​

​

The Emperor had ignited his lightsaber, the crimson blade humming angrily in front of the Dark Lord.​

​

"We have been waiting for you."​

​

Coren Starchaser | WelshGuy | Mig Gred | K Kaine Australis
Kytana | Beltran Rarr | Torrack Torrackstur | Taeli Raaf

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Joycelyn’s stuff: Lightsabre pike, Zaudraka, Jin’wodasir x3, Imperator’s Raiment, SIF-7 Minos, Dwomotchwûq, Sonic Grenades x 2
Armies: The Cathedra, Varanin Legion.
Sithspawn: Horde Mother, Sith Wasps, Spark Bug, Maelridae.
Palm-Imer Mathieu Brion Inara Basai

The battle raged on Velmor, and while the defender perhaps held their ground to air guns, the air itself was becoming more and more dominated by the Imperial Armada and its Starfighter Corps. A shadow moved over the battlefield as the Cathedra lumbered through the sky, blotting out the sun over Den Velmor and shrouded their struggle from the light.

While those who clung to the light clung to the restoration of life, the two combatants were tapping into the powers of their emotions.

Joycelyn’s slash drew blood, but less than she had hoped for. Fortunately, she had made ways to follow it up. The blade she drew was immediately blocked by Palm’s second guard shoto while the first turned to whack Joycelyn across the fingers. The attack on Joycelyn’s hand sheared through the non-phrik attachments and made the lacquer bubble and peel just as it had done on Onderon. It would cook her hand before it would cut through, but even that would be bad.

But Joycelyn had a moment to spare before her hands were cooked.

The rising heat and discomfort sharpened her senses.

“Yes, more!” She sounded ecstatic.

She flipped her sword, winding the blade around the guard shoto for leverage, but not attacking Palm directly. Instead she turned her hip and swept a leg against Palms while pulling and twisting the seized wrist in an attempt at throwing the smaller woman prone on the ground.

Joycelyn was naturally immensely strong, but she channeled the Force into her body for strength and speed.

“Fight me like you want it!” It sounded like she was about to crack up laughing, even now when her hand felt like it was held over an open flame "Fight me, or they die!"

Whether the throw went through or not, Joycelyn moved both hands to grip Zaudraka’s hilt and raised it up above her head. Her face twisted in a grimace of joy and fury as the Force Rage that had been creeping through her mind finally set it. Her eyes were aglow in orange, as if the fire she had repelled them with still burned within her.

 

[Kathryn Foster]

Ship: T-77 Talon Stealth Interceptor
Wearing: Flightsuit
Personal weapon: LBP-3 Light Blaster Pistol
Location: Intercepting Sith landing party deployed by Darth Carnifex , getting attacked by Moon Seo-Yun
Tags: Moon Seo-Yun , Gir Quee , Reshmar , Darth Carnifex , K Kaine Australis

Seeing the missile shooting past her on the radar sent a feel of relief, though for a short duration as the stressed voice of Horizon Two cracked through the comms.

''I'M HIT! I'M HIT! Took in the fuselage! Still able to fly - repeat; still able to fly but I need that karking nerfherder off my six!''

''Roger that, Horizon Two! Stay put - I'm coming to get you, buddy!''

Foster immediately brought her T-77 around in a sharp high-G turn, which force tested her strenght to not pass out. She was always going to go out of her way and fight on the edge of her training for her pilots, friends and her wingman. Horizon Two would not be left behind. Never. The turn caused her to loose some of her speed but she was quick to redirect power to the engines. As the squadron of black birds fiercely fought back the attackers and tried to stay on the tail landing party, the fight was soon going to penetrate the planets atmosphere and thus gravity would aid her with picking up speed again.

The Sith fighter had Horizon Two between a rock and a hard place and it was of no question that this pack of bandits had not graduated from fighter school yesterday. Two hit the brakes and brought himself into a rolling scissor in an attempt to force his attacker to make an overshoot. It also bought time for aid to arrive.

Again picking up speed, Kathryn aligned herself behind the TIE and was not about to hesitate once Horizon Two was out of the line of fire. Pulling the trigger on the joystick, she unleashed a spray of bolts from the two rapid-fire laser cannons.