Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Do the dead talk? [GR dominion for Altier]

Objective F
2/20

Rafeesh had never seen his master in such a manner. It was saddening to see that he had been so unjustly treated by time, but then the Force worked in mysterious ways. There was likely a purpose to it. The clothes were worn, yet apparently well kept. The patches and the stitches showed the loving care that Mantic had put into the cloak. Even though he did not appear to be like the knight of old, Rafeesh could feel that his master was not any weaker than before. Appearances were inconsequential to the Force and the man who stood before him was proof of this.

He was glad that the Force had drawn him here, brought him back to his master. A part of the life he had had to build when coming into this new galaxy had been returned to him. Something that most Jedi he guessed would never understand was the need to throw away all of what you remembered from being a Sith when turned back to the Light. Because being a Sith had been all he could remember from before the Stasis and then sometime afterwards, it had been a difficult process to remove it all and start anew. He had tried nonetheless and the padawan believed that he had not completely failed. Now he was here back with his master. The man who had brought him back to the Light and had begun him on its path. Rafeesh was grateful for it and he felt guilty that he had not tried harder to find the man.

Time had not been kind to the man, age was showing in his physical body. Rafeesh looked into the eyes and knew that time had only made him stronger in mind. The leaner and thinner Jedi had once been quite powerful. The padawan decided that the strength had not disappeared, it was still there and the Force flowed through him as well as before, if not more so. Rafeesh hoped that he had been able to find what he had been looking for after he had left. Whatever it might have been, Rafeesh was certain the Force had had a reason for calling the Jedi away.

When asked for forgiveness Rafeesh brought [member="Mantic Dorn"] into a friendly embrace. Rafeesh could not withhold forgiveness from this man, not after all that he had done for the young Jedi. Rafeesh was glad to see him again, even if it were only for a time. "How could I not forgive you? It is not the way I was taught and chose." Rafeesh released his master, a small part of his mind telling him that he had potentially acted a little too much. The emotions of the moment had caught up with the Zabrak and he had acted upon them, perhaps a bit hastily, but the Force had united the two again and there was a purpose to it.

The Force had a plan and Rafeesh hoped that it would be for them to work together. That they would bring back the Jedi of old, the masters he had met in the Order after Mantic had left simply did not have the same mentality towards the older Jedi Order. Rafeesh had understood it as some form of progressive decision to get as many Jedi or near Jedi into the Order as possible. It had not stuck well with Rafeesh, he had not wanted the Jedi to become open like this, not because he did not want more members but because of the taint that inevitably was allowed in because of it.

"Did you find what you were looking for when you left?" Rafeesh asked after composing himself a bit.
 
Objective F
Post 5/20


Mantic frowned slightly at the embrace but son relaxed and chuckled. He kept his padawans at an arm’s length and [member="Rafeesh"] had been at his side for a long time without allowing too much of the friendship shine through their master padawan relation.

But, [member="Rafeesh"] was a fully trained knight by now. Only by title did he still remain his student.

“I did padawan. I found time to reconnect with the force that helped me to see clearly again. I am afraid I mistrusted the decisions of the new Grand Master and I did not approve of the Order abandoning its service to the Republic.” He then continued as his face returned serious.

He knew that [member="Rafeesh"] sought times of old in these turbulent times and Mantic knew that he represented that too many of the jedi around.

“I am now contemplating where to go from here, there are many viable paths. I am grateful for that you decided to seek me out. Perhaps you want me to complete your training, or shall I recommend a new Master for you?”
He tried to sound neutral but naturally the words hurt. The bond Master and Padawan shared were strong ones, yet logic must supersede such bonds.
 
Galven Solomon, GOMM
Objective F: Support CSAF
Post: 2/20
[member="Ali Hadrix"]



Galven chose to stay aboard his ship, not going down to the planet below. His skills were in strategy and coordination, he was never that great of a ground soldier. It seemed the Galactic Republic would not contact him, which was fine for him. The GR was never someone he ever wanted to fire upon, even neutrality was fine for him. "Launch all fighters, I want us to cover her position," Galven said to his Officers, who relayed the command to the hangar bay. The soldiers on the ground quickly began looking for Ali and the CSAF, which they found since they weren't far off. The transports pulled out and back to the support ships, who would take back a position by Galven. "Have our communications live to the rest of our fleet. If anything happens, I want to make sure we get out alive, and someone is covering our retreat."

The soldiers finally caught up to Ali, and they moved up to her position. "Are you Ali Hadrix, ma'am?" One of the soldiers spoke up, they were all wearing standard issue Stormtrooper armor, but slightly modified, mostly in appearance. "Don't mind the outfits, please. Heavy testing for new armor is under way. I'm Colonel Mack, I and my heavy platoon are to take orders from you until the end of this engagement, and then if you'd be willing, to escort you to safety. I was informed to tell you, you will be given a highly secure facility in which you will be able to command and control anything with ease."
 
[member="Ali Hadrix"]
Objective F: The Trial of Karleesi Ben'Freegan
Location: The Justice Pyramid
Post: 3/20

Matthew took a sip from the glass of water before him. To his right sat Mr. Ben'Freegan himself. The judge was stoically walking up the middle aisle of the courtroom as though he were the Pope himself. He was accompanied by two flanking guards that acted like they were guarding a president. He tried his best to shake the jitters from his stomach, but found it hard to do so. He took another sip. The pope president judge took his seat and said,

"This court is now in session. Will the defense and prosecution please rise?"

Matthew, Karleesi and some government appointed lawyer all stood up. Matthew could sense the man looking at him. This gesture was probably a cold case of glaring eyes. Matthew merely kept looking blindly forward and Karleesi kept looking like an old man. They were then told to sit and they proceeded with the trial. It was time for the opening statements. They asked the defense if they would like to say anything. Ben'Freegan began to rise, but, sensing this, Matthew put his hand on the man's shoulder and pulled him back down softly. He whispered,

"I'm sorry, Ben, but not now. The odds are stacked against you. Play the stoic card for now, change their minds during the trial and we'll hit it hard in the closing statement." Karleesi whispered thank you and Matthew thought he could sense a smile on his face. Since the defense had nothing, the prosecutor stood up and addressed the crowd.

"Ladies and gents! You know what this trial's about and how it will end. Karleesi Ben'Freegan! One of the few most hated people on the top 10 wanted list. This man stands accused of conspiracy, terrorism and a laundry list of crimes. Today will be the day that we put this man's reign of terror to rest."

His speech was met with applause from the audience. Karleesi loosened his neck tie. Matthew took another sip.

They brought forth the witnesses.

First, the next door neighbor. She gave an account that she was hearing strange and disturbing noises next door, like chanting. Karleesi countered with the claim that it was just the muffled sound of him talking over the phone. Second, an agency operator with evidence. A listing of times that he had made calls out to the Death Cult Sector. Karleesi countered by sticking to his original story about phone calls by saying that he tried many times to persuade his grandson, Krillin, to come home and leave the Death Cult behind. Other than that, he would simply hold a polite conversation with him to pass the time. A third witness came forth: an agent posted to keep a watch on Karleesi. Although he couldn't tail Karleesi, he knew that Karleesi had been gone conveniently around the same time of the new set of riots and incursions that had broken out all over the city. Karleesi countered with the fact that he had gone to mourn Krillin, whom had, apparently, been killed for trying to leave the Death Cult. He even started getting choked up as he talked about his grandson. At this point, the audience wasn't so certain of Karleesi's guilt.

The trial was about to come to a head. Despite Karleesi's best efforts, nothing was going to save him from the overwhelming evidence found in his apartment. The prosecution stepped forward to deliver the astounding amount of evidence when Matthew thought to come forth with an objection.

"Objection, your honor. I believe it would be a breach in justice etiquette if the search warrant wasn't produced before the evidence was revealed. If the prosecution would please provide the search warrant."

...Dead silence. Matthew started to wonder what was taking so long and what the drama was all about. Finally, he said, "You...you do have the search warrant, correct?..."

The prosecutor finally spoke up.

"...There...there is no search warrant." Even the judge had to get in on this.

"Mr. Anderson? You do realize that, without a search warrant, any evidence you find is null and void, right?" Mr. Anderson didn't reply. "...Well, if there is nothing else to bring forth, then I suppose it's time to move on to the closing statements."

This time, Mr. Anderson was so shocked at this misstep that he just sat down with his head in his hands and had nothing to say. He did whisper to himself, though, "It's not here...it should have been here...."

Matthew stood up and made his way in front of the jury. He stood there for a little while as he gathered his thoughts. This disturbed some of the jurors because it seemed as though he was staring at them. Finally, he spoke.

"Dear men and women of the grand jury. I ask that you please look at that man who stands accused. Does this look like the face of a man who plans horrors and leads a Death Cult? It's clear that this man is not who he has been labeled to be. I know that, in trying times, it's all too easy to cast blame on the outliers in our society. I ask that this man not become a victim of mob justice and panic. Thank you."

That day, Karleesi Ben'Freegan was chosen to be Not Guilty. However, Matthew had seen the evidence. He couldn't let this man fade into the darkness as he knew Ben would. He would have to take justice into his own hands.
 

Ekaro

Prylar of Balagoth, Seeker of Sargon...
A Cult of Death Among the Garden of Crypts​
Objective: A-F as the Opposing Force Primeval​
Post 1/20​
Allies: [member="Boo Chiyo"] ; All and any other Primeval characters involved​
Enemies: All living things​
Ekaro had spent five out of the last six years dead.
Not but nine months ago did this creature find itself vomited forth into existence.
In the depths of a mausoleum of an asteroid just barely in the tendrils of the black holes pull.
It was a sick and ravaged body.
Birthed from the the one body in the universe that was quite possibly stronger than the force itself.
A wellspring in fact.
One where all of existence was pulled toward and slowly crushed into nothing.
However...
In that singularity where not even light, Balagoth spoke...
It words were soundless.
But Ekaro did not need to hear the God of Death speak, no no no...
EKARO WAS DENIED REINCARNATION!!!
It was a prickly thing to be so savaged in mind and spirit.
Resurrection was worse than death...
It mean't that you could not go on.
Experience a new life.
Ekaro wanted to see the galaxy through the beautiful naivety of a newborn...
NO... NO... NO...
Ekaro wanted to die and be dead for good.
Such a release would be the greatest triumph.
To truly give everything would be the ultimate offering for Sargon.
Some saw it as Nothing.
Ekaro saw Death as simply the primordial birth of a new universe
Balagoth... "CURSE THAT WRETCHED AFTERBIRTH OF CHAOS'S CREATION!"
Ekaro spat blood as it spoke, coughing the entire way up in what felt like an eternity was mere seconds as it felt sobriety begin to take hold.
The stimulants were wearing off.
Ekaro was an addict of Uppers and downers.
It was the only way smother the force.
Ekaro despised the connection to the force.
It meant he was weak.
It meant that he was unfortunately tethered like a string to an instrument which that wench wench bastard monstrosity Balagoth could play.
The only thing that could satisfy Balagoth was change, chaos, and upheaval.
Most of all though was death.
Not simply mindless death.
No...
No...
"NO!!!" It shouted aloud.
Death had to be an art to satiate the appetite of Balagoth.
Every soul's demise had to be a sculpture.
A triumphal arch to the glory that was death.
So it was Ekaro's curse.
To carry the will of Balagoth.
Ekaro would lead his cult to every world.
Permeate into the minds of every individual.
Break the limits of their existence and have them find death.
For Ekaro there need not be physical monuments for the gods,
NO!
The Cult of Ekaro would build its Eleusis and Delos among the ruins of civilizations.
The shredded ideologies and fabric's that governments clung too smothered by flame
For which every soul had passed would be succinct Reclamation for that which Sargon is, and that which Balagoth thirsts for...
Ekaro would be the Pontiff of this flock of souls and lead them to the oblivion that awaited us all.
The problem for Ekaro though was that there would be many who would die and barely experienced life.
It raised a gray leathery four fingered hand where its temple would be and rubbed on bone like mask.
Ekaro did not have eyes.
It could only see a second into the future with the force, and through blurry visuals and the alien could see life in flashes around it.
Nor could Ekaro remember what its forehead or skull was like.
For the mask of Balagoth was infused to its body.
...So many deaths ago...
It felt like an eon had passed...
The problem though...
What was the problem?
Ekaro could not remember until one of its devout followers entered into the tent to tend to torn and soiled linens.
"Ah... Yes... yes... YES!" a guttural cry of relief as it recalled why it was here on this broken world.
Today would be a glorious day.
Ekaro could feel in the force.
The will of Balagoth would take place!
A cackle came forth.
No! yes! No... YES!!! "hAHAHAHAhehehe..." Barely in a semi fowlers position the Alien like creature could not hold itself up any longer and lay back down writhing in pain.
The cultist began to inject stims into the IV bag which hung above Ekaro's bed.
It was stamped with the Seal of the Republic and the symbols of healing...
Ekaro clicked its teeth at the irony.
The drugs would suppress the force.
None would know that a Witch was among the refugees.
None...
A smile crept wide revealing long shards of teeth.
The gums were always weeping red blood.
No cultist was a force user.
None of Ekaro's followers at least.
Ekaro had came to know of a few other Cults operating here, some of different devotion and different beliefs of Balagoth.
He would should them the way though.
For there could only one way to paint death...
Except for those who were unknowingly part of his grand plan.
For you see the denizen and accursed Prylar of Balagoth had to make a mark this time.
The Galactic Republic, an institution that for the last decade since the receding tide of the Gulag Plague and reestablishment of the great powers in the galaxy took hold amid the chaos which followed, was the perfect playground for death.
Very much so in other places, but here most especially the art of death could be sung in through time and space in the after life and beyond of the tragedies and epics that have taken place.
Nooooo...
Yesss...
Play ground indeed.
For you see heroes are a plenty here in these crowded camps.
People fleeing the horrors of the Primeval.
Ekaro would sow terror into the hearts of every soul here and make their deaths all the more grandiose as their emotions begin to fuel forged furnaces that smith the meek and only allows the greatest to be molded into the art that Balagoth so enjoys.
As the force neared evaporation from exuding outward, Ekaro reached out to the first little surprise that would give the Republic Military an emotional roller coaster.
It would be Ekaro's artist stroke on the Canvass of Skulls.
* * * * * * * *
Check Point Constellation
Republic Military Police 670th Battalion Headquarters and Headquarter's Company
The 670th's role here was simple.
Help maintain order through out the camps.
Assist in processing Refugees and directing traffic to the appropriate services as they become available.
They had just arrived and had begun setting up in accordance with local authorities and the Galactic Republic's Representatives direction.
The day was nearing sunset as the planetary rotation rolled through the darkness of space.
A group of children had made it to the newly placed Check Point Constellation.
Fascinated by the white and colored markings of the Republic troopers.
They craved the attention of these brave young defenders of democracy.
Corporal Davon Hok and his troopers were the first ones to man the post.
Checking Identifications and letting people know that good things would be coming.
The kids were quite excited as the troopers began to break out their food rations and passed them around.
One of the children though was different from the others.
not physically or markedly noticeably from the lot of them.
She stood in the middle of everyone, not interacting as much.
Still though the child was not as as enthusiastic to be taking pictures or looking at the big guns the troopers carried.
So Corporal Davon Hok pulled out a big ole Cacao Bar and took a knee to had
"Hey Kid have you ever tried a Cacao bar?"
His voice was just past the adolescent phase and a year spent as a junior NCO had grant him a little gruffness to the vocal cords.
The child was a young girl who wore a yellow tunic with a purple sash and a brown leather pack on her back.
She was a dusty brunette with a sullen pair of green eyes.
She looked down at the ground away from the bar.
Davon Hok frowned for a moment and thought the girl was simply was shy.
"Here" he broke a small piece off from the bar and passed it over to the little girl.
"I get intimidated by these things too" He smiled.
The girl in the yellow tunic with the sash looked up at him with happy eyes and took the piece of chocolate and ate it.
He smiled.
The girl leaped into his arms.
"Whoa hey there!" Corporal Hok spoke allowed startled.
His troopers laughed at the sight.
He hugged her back reaching over the bag so that it wouldn't be an awkward embrace.
"Thank you mister" The girl spoke sincerely
"You are welcome" The Republic trooper said quietly.
The girl tightened her grip around his neck and whispered into an ear.
"Beneath Mighty Sargons gaze, My hand stretches forth..."
"Whoa kid-"
"BALAGOTH'S POWER IS SUBORNED!"
In a bright light an little star shone in the camp.
It happened so fast that none around were able to properly react to it.
Consumed by the explosion bodies were either blasted into pieces or vaporized.
* * * * * * * *
Ekaro cackled as it could hear the explosion from afar.
Almost immediately the panic and chaos set in...
"Halromalenths favoured fall! The heresy steals away, black waves he rides to new worlds, atop the darkest slope" Ekaro began to cough blood again but seemed not to care "A bargain pledged, Divine trickery surpassed, What price this dull world for life Eternal? I grasp this power..." Ekaro lifted its right arm and clenched a fist, "In my hand!" He relaxed the hand rolled onto his side and returned to looking like an old alien refugee among the herds of sheep to be culled.
 
Objective F
3/20

The young Jedi was glad to hear that his master had indeed found what he had been searching for, if not intentionally. Rafeesh knew the feeling, he had at times thought of leaving the Order for a time, if only to come to a decision of whether he would stay or leave fully. He had found that his mind told him not to follow through with the idea, in the end it must have been the Force guiding him against such action, otherwise he might never come to this spot.

Rafeesh listened to the question and was astounded that [member="Mantic Dorn"] would even contemplate the question. Rafeesh had not taken a Master when Mantic left, why should he ask for another now? Rafeesh understood that this question was simply one that needed to be asked. "If possible master, I would like to complete my training. I would not leave you." He did not want to leave his master, there were few others that had the intentions that his master had. Mantic was so similar to Jedi of old that Rafeesh knew there was little chance of finding another who stood for the same things.
 
Objective F
Post 6/20

Mantic nodded, both to himself and to his padawan. He had expected this answer but just as [member="Rafeesh"] had suspected the master had felt it necessary to ask.

"I have doubted the latest decission of the Jedi Order to abandone the Republic." Mantics eyes travelled to the tree tops, pondering.

"I am as you now a supporter of the Republic, but even when the former Grand Master, [member="Corvus Raaf"] took the decission to move the main temple outside of Republic space I stayed with the order. I protested, I even left my seat on the council because of it. But I remained." Mantic spoke with a neutral tone, he did his best not to make it appear boasting but rather a description.

"To openly remove itself from the Republic and instead join the Gallactic Alliance, effectively merging with their New Jedi ORder became too much for me though. I doubted my decission to leave and I questioned my identity as Jedi during my time of absence." slowly shaking his head Mantic took a deep breath.

"But I took a wisdom from Grand Master Raaf with me that I am using now. It is not the Order that defines me as Jedi. It is my own behaviour and my own teachings that define me as a jedi."

Wetting his lips, he lowered his gaze unto [member="Rafeesh"] again returning his all to recognizable turoring voice.

"I am a jedi and I will remain teaching those interested in what my perspective has to offer. It will simply put bring me great joy to be able to finish your training." he said with a slight bow of his neck.
 
Objective F
4/20

Rafeesh listened to his master as he spoke of the reasons for his leaving and the thoughts behind it. It struck the Jedi as understandable and even commendable. He had seen something he was not comfortable with and had followed the most basic of Jedi understandings. That a Jedi was more than the Order, it was the person and his actions. That was something the old Jedi had understood, even if they had for the most part frowned upon leaving the Order. When explained and given the whole story, they Jedi of that time had been willing to allow sensitives to stay living their own lives.

The padawan was not so certain about this new Order, he had not been part of any sort of decision making process, instead simply trying to follow the Jedi way. It was becoming somewhat difficult to remain calm when he saw those around him that were not of the light and not as eager to obey the Jedi Code as he had anticipated. It was as if the old teachings were becoming little more than memories of the old days. That saddened him, but he continued to obey the Code as he could recall it being taught in the old ways.

He did not see [member="Mantic Dorn"] as bragging, but Rafeesh was impressed nonetheless. From his memory it took a lot of compulsion to leave the Order, it had taken what felt like an eternity for him to be broken in that cell on Dromund Kaas. He could not recall any of the pain from that torture, all he remembered was the feeling of powerlessness and complete isolation. There had been no one to save him, locked away and without hope. How could he have expected any sort of rescue at the heart of the enemy. But that was all the past.

With the finishing of his words, and the slight bow, Rafeesh returned it with a deeper bow of the head. "Thank you Master. Where shall we begin?" He was glad to have returned to his master, a true blessing of the Force. It was a wonder that they had been brought together, without the Force an entirely unlikely possibility. That showed that there was more to this, that the Force had plans for them. Rafeesh did not know what, but it was good to know that he had a purpose.
 
Objective F
Post 7/20

Mantic nodded. He could not help but consider how life would have been at the old days of the old Republic, one era that his padawan must feel a great loss of. Never the less, with time passing there were changes in the Galaxy, in the force.
Now was another period and its void was filled with chaos. Their mission must be to try and see through these chaotic threads spinning itself across the force and remain steady against the tide that washed over them.
“We must return to the Republic and as Jedi help it preserve a resistance against the evil that preys on the galaxy or this day, we must work without faltering to give the democratic body safety and security against all that wish to destroy hope and justice. “ Mantic straightened his stance and looked toward the nearby refugee camp.

“These are people that have the right to be treated fair and well, not ruled or used. They are the core of the Republic, not single individuals of its ruling body. We must never forget that padawan.”

[member="Rafeesh"]
 

Kay-Larr

Sphaera Tea Company Owner
Objective: B
Posts:11/20

Kay watched as [member="Boo Chiyo"] just gave her a chilling smile before disappearing amongst the others in the church. Her eyes darted around and while she had her Force signature hidden, she couldn't help but feel a sudden darkness. It was almost like a big dark cloud has moved across the sky to block out the sun. Of course that didn't really happen, but she felt the impression as if it did.

She stepped out of the newly built church/building and took a look outside. Some had almost the same looks in their eyes as the boy did, which was starting to make her feel uncomfortable. More buildings were being built, so she went straight to work, lending a hand and listening to those around her. If this was the Death Cult, she needed to be sure before taking that information to the Republic soldiers.

[member="Ekaro"]
 
Objective: D "Spy games"
[2/20]

Ander spent considerable time scouting the Rodian's area of the camp. That made sense, in his mind, as he wasn't one of the Rodians, didn't look or smell like a Rodian, and was, in fact, here to likely shut the Rodians down and track down their suppliers. What he noticed, as he did his perimeter sweeps and planning, was that someone had not only given these Rodians extra rations and supplies, but also military grade hardware.

Mind you, it wasn't truly apparent. If it had been, the local Government and the Republic both would have been here to put boots to butts. No, instead the hardware was hidden. Mil-grade sensors placed inexpertly around the areas perimeter, a couple of hardened computers, a small communications relay, and a small amount of weapons. None of it was illegal, per se, but these were refugees, none had been registered as coming in with such hardware, or else they'd have been under closer scrutiny or be asked to work with the resettlement effort. These toys had to come from a fourth source, not themselves, not the Republic, and not the Altier government. That was the reason that Ander stuck around, despite two separate run ins with Krev's guards. To keep his cover he had to let them win the fights and run away. His pride hurt, but his discipline was far greater.

He'd have to wait a few hours for the cover of night, then he would infiltrate and try to peg who their direct supplier was. If he could do that without setting off any alarms, he'd move on up the chain.
 

Ekaro

Prylar of Balagoth, Seeker of Sargon...
A Cult of Death Among the Garden of Crypts
Objective: A-F as the Opposing Force Primeval
Post 2/20
Allies: Boo Chiyo ; All and any other Primeval characters involved
Enemies: All living things... @Weiss [member="Ali Hadrix"] [member="Lady Kay"] [member="Ander Wyne"] [member="Mantic Dorn"] [member="Rafeesh"] [member="Matthew Mar'Tin"] [member="Faith Balor-Organa"] [member="Ella Nova"]


670th Republic MP BN HHC
Checkpoint Constellation
A squad of troopers on patrol responded to the reports of an explosion near their newly established Area of Responsibility.
Worming their way through the throngs of people running away from the disaster.
Upon coming across the scene the Sergeant barely managed to take his helmet off to vomit.
There wasn't much in the immediate blast zone.
Just blackened charred remains of what might have been bodies.
This checkpoint straddled the line between Bilgewater camp and Constellation camp, hence its name.
There were tents on fire and a large number of people outside the blast zone who were injured.
"This is squad Husky, request immediate support to Check Point Constellation we have twenty plus injured possibly five in need of urgent evacuation, I say again" he would repeat the message several times.
"Roger that Squad Husky, Command will roll the ball"
After clicking off his comms the Sergeant donned his helmet and was about to turn to help his troopers when a sharp twist of pain ripped through his chest.
He spat up blood and could barely look down.
A vibroblade had stabbed its way through the side of his armor.
Gasping for air the trooper tried to grab his combat knife but found himself being kicked free of the blade.
With a thump the Sergeant found himself lying on the ground staring up at a gray hooded figure.
His skull begn to relax while drawing his last breath.
The last images would be of his soldiers fighting against what seemed like dozens of the gray hooded figures all armed with various weapons...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
670th Republic MP BN HHC
Incident Command Post
Arriving on the heels of the 33rd Marines the 670th Republic Army MP Battalion was here to help provide order throughout camps A through G.
More units would arrive to assist, until then it would be them, the Marines and CSAF on the ground.
Lieutenant Colonel Minsk picked up the hard line comm link (basically looks like a bulky phone) and was about to make a call for a medical bird to swoop in when the comms went ballistic.
Suddenly a dozen reports all at once came flooding in of similar explosions erupting throughout the refugee camps.
One in Bilgewater, one in camp Alpharius, and another near the capital.
"Some one get me through to the commanding officers of the 33rd and CSAF"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Somewhere among the Refugees
Ekaro coughed again and clicked its teeth.
Now that the drum roll had begun it was time for the symphony.
His cult would mobilize the Followers of Balagoth and extort them into committing acts of murder and mayhem.
It was as the Jedi Ella Nova had sensed upon arriving to the world, a darkness.
For all others the malevolence in the force no longer would come from Ekaro.
No no no...
Now it was all those souls out there crying out in anguish as terror would course through their wretched veins.
As far as Ekaro could tell he had simply ignited the powder keg.
Now he hoped the rest of the mobs could snare some beautiful deaths of some heroes.
If not then the next world Ekaro would visit would find itself just as terrorized.
Perhaps the Republic's capital of Chazwa?
Ekaro clicked its teeth again and a wry smile crept upon its lips.
"Disciple... We will leave in the early morning before the planet's cycle reaches dawn... So reach out to our Rodian friends that we may need assistance off this stupid rock" Ekaro spoke aloud to the near-human being that Ekaro could not see.
 
Objective F
5/20

Rafeesh listened to the words of his master. Yes, he was much like the Jedi of old. He would have done well then, as he had now. Times had changed and with it everything he had known, even the Force had felt different when first coming out of stasis. It was a queer thing to feel the supposedly most basic things to have changed. Yet here he was, he had overcome the initial feelings of change and had grown stronger because of it. It was not a bad thing, it just needed to be accepted.

There were things that should not have changed as much as they did, the Jedi Order specifically. It was supposed to be a protector of the Light, but it seemed to have evolved to survive, instead of protecting and helping the Republic. This stood against what Rafeesh believed. And he was reminded of this when [member="Mantic Dorn"] looked to the camp. Yes, they were the people to defend, they stood for what the Republic was meant to be. They were what the Jedi were supposed to protect, and had turned their back on.

Perhaps it was time to leave the Jedi Order he had believed to be what the same as the old. It was a thought that seemed so wrong to him, yet he felt a push towards. Perhaps the Force was telling him to go that path. "I will try not to master."
 

Kay-Larr

Sphaera Tea Company Owner
Objective:B
Posts:12/20

The explosions rocked the camps. Kay was still at Bilgewater, though thankfully she wasn't near the blast zone. The ground still shook and the air filled with smoke and terrified screams. Who were the under attack from? She looked to the skies but saw no ships firing upon them, no dogfights zig-zagging above her.

And then she saw them. Grey hooded beings attacking the survivors. It had to be the Death Cult that she had heard about. It just had to be. But it made no sense as some of the very refugees that she saw at the 'service' earlier in the evening were also being slaughtered.

Kay took out her blaster that was always set to stun, hid around the corner of a tent and started firing at the grey cloaks. She had never killed anyone before and she certainly wasn't about to now. At least while alive, they could be questioned by the soldiers. Her shooting wasn't as accurate as it could be, but she didn't want to open herself up to the Force and reveal herself. No. She had to keep herself hidden.

This was going to be a long night....
 
Objective F
Post 8/20

With all that had happened Mantic had felt that while solitude had done good for his soul now at the time of action loneliness would be a poor companion. So when his padawan and friend seemed certain of it all the wind carried a thread of hope into the master’s heart.
He did not speak more about it but turned to stand beside his padawan. The path was set and both knew what had to be done. They would stand united and it gave Mantic comfort.

If it had not been for the sudden disturbance Mantic would have suggested that they head forward to aid within the camp.

But something was wrong, something terrible had happened. Small drops of darkness started to run down the threads of the web that surrounded the planet.
Furrowing his brow he turned inwards to focus, what was it. The sensation was a familiar one.

“Death…” he then whispered aloud. “Did you feel it padawan?”
The events initiated by the evil [member="Ekaro"] had caused ripples in the force and Mantic sensed them. But it was not all, he also sensed another presence. One that was fa more friendly and a welcome one. The presence of another jedi, [member="Ella Nova"]
Maybe she was in trouble? He glanced toward [member="Rafeesh"] to discern his reaction.
 
Objective F
6/20

Rafeesh could feel the hope, that glimmer that was the seed for a future. It was good to see that his master was stronger, it meant a bright future was ahead. One in which the Republic would be defended. Even if the Jedi Order decided that the Republic was not worth their time, he would continue to fight for the galactic power that stood for what the Jedi had believed in. If there was to be work done to defend it had to begin now. The time was upon them, the future stood bright and the Force would guide them into their destinies. The Force would give them the strength to fight and defend the Republic no matter what.

However, just as [member="Mantic Dorn"] had felt it, Rafeesh sensed the darkness. It was like a poison injected into a body, he could feel it coursing through the environment. He could almost sense the ripple that it caused. Something had happened. He knew his duty, as a Jedi. He had to fight darkness in no matter what form it may take. No matter where it may hide. The darkness had to be revealed and defeated by the Light.

The young padawan heard his master's words and stayed silent for a moment. He did not feel the Jedi, his senses were not that fine tuned. He replied, "I sense it. What is it, do you think?"
 
5/20
Objective: A to B via C
Allies: unsure [member="Lady Kay"]
Enemies: Unsure

After speaking to government official about a possible cult, she headed of to get her new recruits. They had no real training yet, but they have some equipment, and lets face it what better training is there than a live fire exercise against the enemy. She was aware however they would just be numbers, and not really a force to be reckoned with. She just wanted to see how they react more than anything, as some might be actually be able to take orders like stay back.

She took a speeder to the her training center, it was open top speeder, and air whistled through her hair as head towards her temporary encampment. Once she was there she told her soldiers what the plan was, Gentlemen there is some sort cult on this planet, and the powers that be wish to be dismantled. We do have some issues with this, I don't know anything about it, nor do I have any leads. Though what we do have, is a load of new employees see what you can find out about it from them, then we go looking for it. The officer in charge said Done and then head to new recruits to begin questioning.
 
[member="Ali Hadrix"]
Location: Ben'Freegan's Apartment
Objective: The End of Karleesi Ben'Freegan
Post: 4/20

Matthew landed and rolled to a halt on a rooftop. He picked his weapon nearby off the ground. He had to toss it down to the rooftop before he made the high jump. He had a different GPS. This one was especially made to be a discrete tool for blind people. It gave vibrations off in the sensor pads that were in the palm of his left hand. That way, he could raise his left palm upwards and feel where he needed to go.

He raised his left palm now and all four sensor pads started going off all at the same time. He was at his destination. He walked over to where he could sense the fire escape. From this position, he could faintly sense the dark aura that was being generated by the large collection of evil artifacts that had been left in Ben'Freegan's room. He got to the right level and tried to sense if anyone was inside. Not a single person...He started to smash the window to pieces with many swift strikes from his staff. He jumped down in through the new opening.

He investigated the apartment. Occult items littered the place, but what really gained his attention was a phantom spot. There was a spot on an otherwise full table which once held a powerful artifact. The echoes were left behind, but...he could sense that that particular artifact's aura had left a trail...a trail that he could follow. He rushed out of the apartment and followed that trail. His black outfit raised quite a few stares and attention from passersby and the manager in the lobby. He ignored them and rushed out into the night. They would surely think that he was a thief with a strange weapon.

His journey into darkness was just beginning.
 
Ali Hadrix, CSAF Commandos
Objective C: Refugee Assistance
Post: 6/20


Ali stared at the newly arrived soldiers through the T-shaped visor of her helm in silence as their colonel spoke. After a moment she replied, "I have no record of Ali Hadrix; she has no presence here. I am, however, CSAF's Lord Commander." Ali did not provide a name, not now, at least. Open communication was a risky business and she wanted to keep her identity with CSAF an unknown to any outside the organization. "We appreciate the resources, and the personnel. Tell Solomon we'll take care of his soldiers, and look forward to repaying him for his kindness." Ali gestured to the refugee city that sprawled across the land around them. "We'll be doling out medicines and medical services primarily, aside from sustenance resources. We've also got a subversive cult of individuals that have been murdering refugees at night. Investigations are ongoing."
Suddenly Ali's commlink began bursting with voices from several of the local commanders, CSAF, Republic, native. Reports of explosions in over a dozen locations throughout the refugee city were streaming in, and several Republic security units had been attacked and killed. Ali switched to primary transmission channels and received contact from Lieutenant Colonel Minsk, of the 670th Republic MP Battalion's headquarters unit. "Colonel Minsk, this is the CSAF Commander, Alena Reckar," Ali replied, giving Alena's name in place of her own. "Where do you need support?"

[member=Galven Solomon] | [member=Ekaro]
 

Ekaro

Prylar of Balagoth, Seeker of Sargon...
A Cult of Death Among the Garden of Crypts
Objective: A-F as the Opposing Force Primeval
Post 3/20
Allies: Boo Chiyo ; All and any other Primeval characters involved
Enemies: All living things... @Weiss [member="Ali Hadrix"] [member="Lady Kay"] [member="Ander Wyne"] [member="Mantic Dorn"] [member="Rafeesh"] [member="Matthew Mar'Tin"] [member="Faith Balor-Organa"] [member="Ella Nova"] [member="Elaine Thul"]


670th Republic MP BN HHC

"Commander Reckar I'm not certain how to peg the situation" A sudden wave of interference came over the comms "I have reports of explosions in several of the camps. Even more pertinent are armed groups of what must be cultists appear to be murdering and attacking my troops and civilians. They are clothed in grey cloaks and robes and so far are only armed with melee weapons. Camps A through D are in chaos right now."
He briefly stopped talking as someone screamed out in anguish somewhere outside his command tent.
"I also have a report that an explosion has gone off at the Capital but I'm uncertain as to the situation there. I'm going to pull my troops back and try to apprehend and disarm these cultists, but I'm worried that we'll be overrun purely by terrified civilians. I haven't received any Rules of Engagement for encountering the cultists, but I'm authorizing fatal fire in self defense as necessary. Otherwise I'm all ears to suggestions"
Outside the tent a grey cloaked man had attempted to charge through the security checkpoint brandishing a vibroblade was gunned down by several troopers.
"Sir! We have a report that a Republic Representative is on the ground last sighted in the Bilgewater sector" One of the aides relayed to the Lieutenant Colonel.
"Kark we'll need to extract, can't have VIPs getting killed or worse captured out there..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *​
Bilgewater
Grey Cloaks fighting [member="Lady Kay"] and others
Trooper Fergus

One of the Republic troopers had managed to fight off his attackers and ran from the vicious slaughter. It was a moment of weakness, some might say cowardice, but to watch your comrades die so quickly would demoralize anyone.
Fergus leaped between two tents and rolled into the dusty street. He was nearly trampled by people fleeing the slaughter going on.
Fergus looked up and watched as a man with a frying pan bopped a grey cloak over the head as it ran around the corner presumably chasing after the trooper.
The man looked at Fergus and yelled "Run!' before disappearing into a tent.
Fergus picked himself off the ground and fired a few shots into the body of the fallen of grey cloak before turning and running.
He weaved between a few sections and came across a woman snapping blaster shots at some of the cultists who were apparently butchering people from a religious service.
The spot she was in seemed as good as any "Sorry lady but I think I'm going to hole up right here for a moment!" He took a knee and took aim along side her to lend some fire power.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *​
Somewhere among the Refugees
Ekaro wobbled a little as it stood on weak legs..​
Age was an annoying aspect of Life.​
To wither slowly and uncontrollably toward a pathetic physical form.​
Balagoth must truly enjoy this curse on Ekaro's soul to watch it wretchedly try and meek out existence.​
Ekaro could not remember its age, the endless number of resurrections and death had taken a toll on its memory.​
Worst of all Ekaro no longer could recall what it exchanged for this curse.​
Its naked gray form was covered by black robes and a cane was provided by its Disciples.​
Ekaro stepped out into the light of the sunset.​
It could not see the it, but it must have been a beautiful sight.
Especially with the smell of fresh blood and the air of fear that now inhabited the winds.​
 

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