Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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[ENDGAME] - Shadow's Fall

In Umbris Potestas Est
[member="Alexandra Feanor"]

"Well, I don't know." She slowly walked towards the Jedi. "Why don't you come and find out?" She said. "This body's more than twenty years old, you know. I didn't spend time out in the void thinking about my mistakes just to have them suddenly resurface." Vanessa chuckled. "Nice try attempting to rile me up. Though that isn't really a very Jedi-like tactic for you to use." She said, heading towards the woman she had once considered an associate. "I'm too powerful for Hell, you know. And you have a spirit inside you? Oh... this is good." She brought her hands up, in preparation for the use of lightning.

"One last opportunity, Alex."
 
Armour | Pike | Sword | Jin'wodasir x 2| Sidearm | Scroll
Arriving in: 3 x Phi-Class Heavy Dropship full of Sithspawn (x x x) and some pilots
endgameeclipsespacer_by_ebilmushroom-dcc5cwy.png
"Would it have killed you to have waited til, I don't know - tomorrow, to have done this?!"

There was a lot going on around them. Beasts ran hither and tither, crushing vehicles and persons under claw or foot, teeth and mandibles gnashing in expectation of tender flesh. Joycelyn's head turned towards Saphir; the red, jagged lines of her helmet's visual sensors aglow against the sharp black surfaces of her helm.

"Seriously, this is ridiculous."
"Subdue the girl"

She barked the order at a group of the Hyal'hask. Four of them turned sharply and headed for Saphir, weapons in hand. She would follow them, finding amusement in this girl who could quite clearly keep up with the monsters Joycelyn had unleashed. However, off to the side she could sense a lethal intent. Her head did not turn to face the threat she sensed, but her left hand curled and turned as she reached out in the Force.

As the bolter rounds were fired off in rapid succession, one of the Ravagers was lifted up into the air, blocking the path. Its hard carapace withstood the first and second blast, but cracked and then shattered under the successive explosions. The creature howled in pain, thrashing in the invisible grip as it unwillingly shielded its master. Its long scythes and sharp legs slashed through some of the other sithspawn while the explosions threw shrapnel and concussive force that threw some of the creatures into a disarray. Some of the shrapnel pattered against Joycelyn's armour, losing most of its inertia by cutting through the flesh and carapace walls she surrounded herself with.

Joycelyn threw a last glance at Saphir, as if inviting the woman with the electrostaff to defeat her assailants and pursue her. She took off to the left, using one of the ships to give herself cover from the shooter. She knew she was a big target and she had not exactly expected the assailant to have a weapon of this nature. What kind of weapon was it? Something like her own Minos? It certainly had a similar effect on what it hit, if not somewhat more powerful.

With a twirl, she shifted the silvery shaft to under her left arm and pulled her sidearm with her right. She had the finger ring of it specifically widened for her armoured hands, giving a smooth draw. Supporting the firearm on her left wrist, she got a good grip on the particle beam weapon. Joyce knew it could kick something fierce. She quickly looked out from around the corner of the dropship, raising the particle blaster and letting out a series of single shots spaced out where she thought Elipsis would be.

The beam fired by the blaster ruptured with explosive energy when it made contact, sending concussive force and pieces of debris flying. They were probing shots most of all, made to lure out some movement.

[member="Saphir Steele"] [member="Elpsis Kerrigan-Alcori"]
 
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That cosmic entity that Fett had no real understanding of made the final movements it needed, easing it's way into his flesh on the underside of his right bicep. The knife had scrapped against the plates beneath his flight suit, sinking in as the Mandalorian hissed on the underside of his helmet- the microphone muted, thus no noise escaped him. Although, his expression tensed beneath his helmet, his teeth gritted and he winced from the pain. A burning sensation as the crimson liquid of his inside seeped out onto the blade. There was no stopping it, but despite the pain he preserved. He'd suffered worse, and he was sure to endure more in the years to come.

Fett's right arm further resisted as best it could in the weakened state it found itself in. His Visor locked with Traske's and his left hand rushed up further, attempting to snatch forwards at the neck of the man with the intention of choking him the life out of him. If his hand managed to secure the throat, he'd only push him further from his person, rearing his head back and slamming it forwards. A Keldabe Kiss wasn't the pleasant kind after all.




Allies: The Sith Empire

Adversaries: [member="Minorous Traske"]
 
Location: City Ruins
Objective: Search and Rescue
Equipment: Tactical Armor, A280-CFE Blaster, A280 Blaster Rifle, Duel Czerka Combat Knives
Tags: [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Darth Tacitus"], any and all CSI Forces

Having been on Coruscant for personal business, Rylan had found himself cut off from pretty much any and all friendly forces the instant the Sith Empire had started their assault on the Capital of the GA. Sneaking through the rubble and chaos of the city as it fell apart, he had managed to find his way to one of the few safe houses he had left on the planet some years earlier, it wasn't much of a safe house but it would do to get out a beacon and equip for whatever mission he was about to take, even if it was just evacuation orders, it would be better than nothing else at all.

While switching from his civilian clothing, and into his flight suit and tactical armor, the newest recruit of the Knights Obsidium had started up a back door communications channel to any and all CIS forces in the area, hoping to get a signal to anyone out there, "This is Rylan Kordel, calling all Confederate forces, by now you probably know of the attack on Coruscant, I'm heading back into the streets to look for survivors and to send them to this location, there's a hidden space port near here, you can extract those people here." he sent coordinates along side his message, hoping they'd be received. He laughed to himself as he strapped on his blasters, knives, and a selection of detonators, didn't seem to matter the era, he always ended up in the thick of it somehow.

Giving the safe house one more scan, he set the message on repeat, and stepped out into the streets once more, keeping an open comm to the location in case any of his allies try to get in touch with him and hopefully join him in his search and rescue operation. He truly doubted anyone would join him on the ground, he wasn't sure how anyone could get to the ground, but he held on to hope, a crazy idea it seemed in such times, but he wouldn't abandon it yet, not while there was people who needed his help.

"Once more unto the breach..."
 
Minorous Traske

Location: Jedi Temple
Engaging: [member="Koda Fett"]
Don't think. Focus on my voice.

Traske remembered the words of the man who had taught him Teras Kasi all that time ago; all the lessons and principles, many of which were learning to fight without a plan. He didn't make as much use of those - just didn't suit his personality nowadays. One thing he was always told, was never butt heads with a Mandalorian. Beskar was good at winning arguments. In a way, he was just glad this place was filled to brim with Sith Lords and Jedi going at it around almost every corner, lightsabers flashing against each other even in the corner of his eye as they still struggled in the air of the temple's walls.

The blade was finally in, and more importantly, so was the current that travelled up it. The knife's main focus, the electricity with a paralytic function on stabbing, began. The battery was going strong and would do so for a while; Minorous was hoping for beyond just paralysis. The aim was to keep the current and electricity flowing into his body, beyond just disabling the nerves but trying to render the Mandalorian unconscious; Traske had no interest in killing him in particular, and he had his own reasons, his history for doing so, even if Fett would never know or understand it.

He wasn't able to stop Fett's hand this time, but the force still strengthened him, resisting out against the force of the Crushgaunt and preventing windpipe collapse - it still felt a whole lot like a hand was strangling him though, and it felt even worse when his head whipped back from the headbutt, the visor of his helmet shattering on one side to reveal a cold blue eye, and pieces of the old visor jabbing into parts of Traske's face. He kept the knife in and held on, the blade pulling with him a bit and tearing open more flesh. He used it as an anchor, keeping him in place as he still ignored wherever this fanciful flight was taking them.

Rather than try to wrench Fett's hand away, he decide to do what he could back. His arm was still in no shape to be providing huge amounts of force, but it could be concentrated. Though painful, he kept two fingers on his other hand extended as he jabbed them underneath Fett's helmet and towards his throat, trying to just force the air out of his windpipe for a moment; it may take him by surprise, and hopefully work in tandem with the knife that was doing its best to disable the nerves in the clone's body. It wasn't the most highly advanced move in Teras Kasi, but certainly one of the least expected.
 

Darth Imperia

Guest
D
Location: Jedi Temple
Objective: Get Dangerous
Enemies: [member="Quvox"] (Primary) | [member="Romi Jade"] | [member="Jace Khel"]
Allies: [member="Tsisaar Taral"] | [member="Vili Ozouf"]
Equipment: Sith Robes, The Penumbra, Sera's (But Actually Imperia's Because Possession) Cybernetic Suite, Jin'Wodasir (x2)
Music: Playing with the Big Boys

--

Tràkata. Clever little Jedi, wasn't this one? Not that it would do him that much good - Imperia lost her balance, yes, stumbled ever so slightly forward. There was a brief moment where the Knight was genuinely afraid, but no. Whether out of weakness or ignorance, the jedi failed to follow through. There was no searing pain in her chest, no ignoble impalement upon a beam of plasma. Instead, what passed for a follow up strike to this near-youngling was a push in the Force. Admittedly, it sent her flying back a short distance, with more force (heh) than she would've expected from a Padawan - could the three Jedi be sharing their strength? That would explain the odd melding of their presences in the Force, as well.

The young Knight stopped herself mid-air and landed with all the grace and elegance of a deranged, megalomaniac cat. The smile on her face never even faltered - in fact, it grew wider. If this child wished to play at wielding the Force, then Imperia would show him what a real practitioner could do.

Imperia raised her left arm, palm towards the Ubese Padawan. Reaching out into the Force, the Knight grasped for her victim's head - no, not his head. The breathing apparatus upon resting upon his face.

Then, oh so slowly, she balled her hand into a fist.
 
During the height of the Alliance, the Jedi had launched a campaign to take the jewel of the galaxy out from under Sith control. As Farah had yet to witness, power would cycle between the Jedi and the Sith. She’d been born into a flourishing empire and been handed golden opportunity after opportunity. Never did she have to worry about personal struggle—where will my next meal come from? How will I pay my bills? Even though she was effectively tethered to the Sith Empire—specifically the Zambrano family—she’d been allowed to lead a life of her own. Publically, that was the life of Dr. Navarro. A surgeon at Coruscant General in the Senate district.

An imperial soldier noticed two figures picking their way through the rubble and raised his weapon.

“Wait, I—“

Before Farah could finish, a pair of shots spewed from his weapon. The Zeltron hooked an arm around her companion’s neck—a thin, tired looking man with dark hair—and dropped to the ground. The bolts dissipated against the debris behind them.

Farah threw both hands in the air. “I have credentials. I work for the Sith Empire.”

Dr. Krieger looked aghast but kept his mouth shut.

She passed the soldier the proper identifying documents and he flipped through them, grunted, then ultimately left them alone.

They managed to extract someone from the debris. A Chiss businessman wearing some fancy expensive suit that was now ruined.

“You didn’t—you never mentioned—how?Was all the other doctor could say, a million questions on his tongue.

“Long story.” It really wasn’t. “Just because I’m one of them doesn’t mean that I’m…” Whatever she was about to say next faded from her tongue as she ripped the body of the expensive ruined suit open. A pink hand rested over the dying Chiss’ stomach as her face creased in concentration. “Abdominal bleeding.” She grunted, moving to assess the rest of his injures. “Looks like a lot of trauma.”

The dark haired doctor opened one of the Chiss’ eyes and shined a pen light into it. “Pupil’s blown.”

Coruscant General had sent a call for any and all available doctors to be on hand in dealing with the inevitable mass casualties. No doubt that the ambulance speeders that managed to make it back would be filling up the ER, operating room, admitted beds and hallways. Against orders, Farah had left for ground zero, but not before literally dragging a neurosurgeon along. They’d be of more use out here, where the trauma was than dealing with the corpses being delivered to the hospital. Maybe it was a bad choice, though.

Mutually, silently, they agreed to move away from the Chiss and search for someone they might actually have a chance at saving. Never give up until the patient is beyond dead? Not in a hopeless situation like this one.
 
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The Mandalorian was nothing but furious beneath his helmet. The pulsating electricity that flowed through his veins was a big factor in it, but nothing more than a man who wouldn't let go, one that didn't die. Maybe it was respectable to a degree, reminding him of himself. Although, Fett was never one to appreciate others. Everybody else in this business was competition, and seeing them dead was the ultimate satisfaction. It was justice too, for their attempt in taking his mantle- or so he saw it.

After recoiling from the headbutt he threw his body backwards, raising both of his legs, bending at the knees. Slipping through the small gap that was enlarged by the hole his body offered within it. The punch Traske threw was caught upon his legs, and offered no real damage other than another slight annoyance on the undersuit. He attempted to position his feet upon the opponent's chest, extending them outwards with the intention on throwing him off and to whatever was below them.

As to how far up they were, or if there was anything beneath them at all was a mystery to the Mandalorian. It really wasn't what he was concentrated on as of now.




Allies: The Sith Empire

Adversaries: [member="Minorous Traske"]
 
Location: Coruscant
Allies: [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Darth Tacitus"] [member="Darth Metus"]
Weapons: Primary Lightsaber, Secondary Lightsaber, Combat Sword
Objective: Assist with the evacuation
Soldiers: 30x BX-Commando Droids, 4x IG-100 Magnaguard

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Ragged, savage, flames roared over the city below as Adron peered at the destruction wrought by the Sith war machine. The scenery was all too familiar to his own homeworld which fell years ago to the atrocities of the Sith Empire. Glaring at the sight, Adron pulled the black cowl over his head as a metallic voice called out to him. "Minister. My units are sweeping this sector and will establish security within fifteen minutes. However if a dedicated Imperial Force assaults us, we cannot hold this position for long." Turning back to the automaton behind him, Adron peered into the shallow red optics of the IG-100 droid. He stared at the droid for a brief moment, noting the crimson streaks bouncing from it's metallic frame, a reflection of the tower adjacent to the one they stood in. It was fully ablaze, and casting a glaring light onto their own tower.

"See to your checks, Commander." He ordered, the droid before turning away from the perch he stood from. The deliberate metallic steps the droid gave off faded as he disappeared into the shadowy stairwell, heading down to the lower levels.

Rather than follow down the tower's stairwell, Adron rose to the roof, knowing Srina and Darth Metus would be awaiting his own report. As he rose to the highest perch of the tower, his eyes fell over Srina. With a knowing look, he watched her leap from the tower with a certainness about her. Adron did not know what she was doing, he merely knew she believed she had to it. Adron eyed Darth Metus for a moment before exhaling softly. Pulling his commlink from his waist, he began to broadcast over a Confederate channel.

"Sector 17-D is now a medical evacuation zone. Find and rescue as many people as you can and bring them here. We will begin evacuation procedure in ten minutes."
 

Hope Clarke

Guest
H
Hope Clarke
Location: Jedi Temple, Third Floor
Equipment: |
Ascendancy Black Trooper Armor | SAB-032 Multi Purpose Sidearm
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: Literally Anyone Else
Objective(s): Rendezvous with Sith Empire forces. Kill anything not Sith that moves. Survive. Don't blow your cover.

-------
Hope woke up groggy. He heard a ringing sound and felt stiff all over. He sat up and waited a bit while his vision recovered. The white haired special forces operative looked around to figure out just what the hell happened. The gunship that was supposed to take him and his squad to the Temple was an absolute wreck. Thick pieces of shrapnel were lying haphazardly and the larger parts of the ship were engulfed in flames. Hope slowly stood up and made his way to the cockpit to see if anyone was still alive. Luckily that part wasn't engulfed in flames, but was still pretty hot. After he climbed on top of the pilot half, Hope checked the glass for any signs of life. All he could see was a large splash of blood that obscured the the inside of the cockpit. He already knew the pilots were dead. And without checking, he could tell the other members of his squad were dead too. Probably in worse shape as well. Even then, Hope was mildly surprised that he didn't feel empathy for his dead teammates. Maybe it's because they were with the Sith and he was trully loyal to the Galactic Alliance? Or maybe he lost the ability to feel emotions? Hope decided to worry about these psychological problems later. He needed to get his head in the game. In that instance, where the kriff is his helmet and weapons?

Eventually Hope found his helmet lying a couple meters to his left and put it on. There was a near silent hiss as it sealed and he activated the HUD. He located his SAB-032 sidearm, but didn't find his standard issue rifle. It was probably destroyed in the crash. He checked the blaster to make sure it was fully loaded. It was green to go. Hope lifted the gun up and kept both hands on it as he evaced the room with the crashed gunship and his dead teammates. Rendezvouing with Sith forces took top priority. He'll kill any Jedi that he came across. No matter how much it pains him deep inside, while on the surface it looks like he doesn't give a crap.
 
Location: High Council Chamber Platform Falling Hunk of Stuff
Allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Mishel Noren"] [member="Romi Jade"] & Meld participants
Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Taeli Raaf"] [member="Darth Prazutis"] [member="Alvarex Zambrano"]
Gear: Lightsaber, training lightsaber, Bryar pistol, ridiculously stubborn nature, dashing good looks

Even though he could recognize the danger that Carnifex calling in his will presented, Cotan was still struggling to force his limbs to move. Even with the energies of the Force running through his body, they still responded sluggishly for the moment, the after-effects of the blast of lightning. So it was that the Dark Lord's strategy worked in sending Cotan up into the air; as the Dark Lord leaped, the Jedi Knight could easily recognize the danger coming for him. More importantly, he heard an odd crashing sound.

He brought his lightsaber up over his body, Darth Carnifex's blade slamming down into it hard and sending Cotan speeding to the floor. The floor itself, however, thanks to the efforts of Taeli Raaf, was a good ten feet further away than it had been before. Cotan slammed down hard, the tip of Carnifex's blade burning a scar into his left arm as the Sith Emperor himself sailed over Cotan's form, only to land somewhere past him. The pain he felt grew as he heard something crack after the landing, and his side instantly burst into a flurry of angry sensation.

Grunting and straining against his aching muscles, Cotan stood, shakily due to the falling platform—but refusing to give up. Anchoring himself with the Force, he looked up, seeing his ship come sailing by; rather than try and ride the platform all the way down, he jumped, landing on the side of his ship and hooking his fingers around the edge of an armour plate that was peeling up. He deactivated his lightsaber and clipped it back on his belt, pulling his commlink back out. "Kiss, get me back down on top of the temple," he ordered, eyeing Darth Carnifex and Mishel Noren down below, in one of the lower chambers of the tower. "Then pull into the hangar, it'll be safer. Pick up any Jedi you can." The droid's muffled reply came through, as it flew, and dropped Cotan off a fair ways away from where any of the others seemed to be landing.

He could see why, with the further debris from the falling tower—the droid likely thought that it was too much of a danger to land any closer, let alone land him in the same chamber as the others. Cotan set his jaw, pushing the pain from both his mind and from those of the others melded with him, as he started to make his way back across the structure over to where the others were all setting down.
 
[Solely NPC post]
Locale: Jedi Archives South Entrance
​Allies: N/A
Theme
​Enemies: Current - [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Alexandra Feanor"] | [member="Mereel Vaun"] | [member="Vulpesen"]
​Potential Enemies - [member="Xevek Rakama"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"] | [member="Tsisaar Taral"] | [member="Darth Imperia"] | [member="Vili Ozouf"] | [member="Darth Sabezt"] | [member="Adrian Vandiir"] | [member="Romi Jade"] | [member="Veino Garn"]

​Tathra's Promethean Guard were some of the best fighters in the Galaxy, trained by Tathra Khaeus himself to the heights of their abilities. Even still, the resilience of these soldiers was something often not seen.

Seimar, was a expert in the use of speed; his species, the Shasoti were naturally agile which only added to his speed. Seimar dashed to the side, dodging the blasts of the man's grenades, but the kinetic energy still took him off his feet, knocking him back and onto the ground, crashing into a wall.

​Kabel on the other hand, was bemused by his enemies movement; likely expecting his momentum to throw him off. However, Kabel's metal arm allowed him to stop the weapon in the middle of its strike as the man dodged, placing his other palm firmly against the base of the weapon to assist in the return swing.

​Kabel glady took the kick to the face as his opponent was caught in his own momentum now as Kabel's axe came cleaving back towards his liver, right in the middle of his kick.
 

Vereshin

Guest
V
Location: Jedi Temple Archives
Allies: [member="Adrian Vandiir"], [member="Vanessa Vantai"]
Enemies: [member="Alexandra Feanor"], [member="Jairdain"], [member="Darth Tacitus"]
Gear: Robes

While Adrian kept Jairdain occupied, Vereshin allowed his presence in the Force to seethe without restraint, letting Jair know that it was him. Turning towards Alexandra, he could feel the effect his power had on her conscience, lapping up the fear she allowed herself to feel like a cat sipping milk. The effect appeared to be short lived as the properties of the spell were split between her different selves. With a disappointed sigh, Vereshin lowered his hands after he had conjured the lightning.

The bolts traveled towards Alexandra and instead of casting a barrier, she unleashed her powerful lightning rod, planting it into the ground and using it to absorb his attack. Vereshin analyzed her presence in the Force and gradually came to understand how her mind worked, which was in the form of different selves. He stifled a chuckle in response to Alexandra evaluating on her state, before extending both of his arms and channeling energy between each palm in preparation for his following spell.

"It takes strange to know strange, my dear." With a jovial laugh, Vereshin's eyes glowed green outside the bandages covering his face. As Alexandra exchanged derogatory remarks with Vantai, the Sith Lord smirked at the alchemist who did not appear to be using any weapons. The sight was not unusual to Vereshin, who could not use a weapon of any kind.

"Step aside, Vantai." Vereshin threatened in a sinister tone as Vanessa disrupted his fun. "I'm just getting started with this one." Having studied the mechanics of Alexandra's Force signature, he had devised a suitable way to combat each of the entities making up her conscience. As he dismissed Vantai with a wave of his hand, he coiled his fingers and focused on the particles making up his form.

The black energy at the Sith Lord's feet compacted and rejoined with his body, which separated into three doppelgangers representing his appearance exactly. They were all encased in the same black, hooded robes, along with the exaggerated shoulder vestments and bandages covering each of their faces. More so, they each interacted exclusively with one of Alexandra's selves, pinpointing the separate points of her conscience with which to engage. The three versions of Vereshin spread apart and assaulted each one with simultaneous psychological horror.

"Ahahaha!" The Sith Lord cackled as he continued to penetrate the selves, sending the singular mind of the woman into mental turmoil. "You are all mine!" Vereshin's voice echoed as though his very speech had been split as well. They targeted the personal nightmares unique to every conscience, splitting the focus of the one Sith Lord between each entity which made up Alexandra's mind.
 

Cassus Stoma

Guest
C
CORUSCANT


MAIN HALL, JEDI TEMPLE

Whilst Jace wasn't a master swordsman, and his experience with one was limited, he had a natural talent in regards to the usage of a blade. It was his focus after all, not the use of the force as much as his concentration with the Lightsaber. He was to be a Jedi Guardian after all, one to defend the peace and utilise what was possible to prevent the atrocities of the Sith. It may have seemed contradictory of a Jedi to learn how to kill, but it was absolutely necessary to do so. The galaxy was harsh, and it's inhabitants were even less forgiving.

The Padawan's blue blade soared downwards, only to be struck with a deflective parry. His reactions were quick, however, and only due to the force. Without it, he was sure to be dead. As the Red Lightsaber came down for his skull, Jace's right foot became the dominant one, leaning almost into a lunge on his side. The Lightsaber itself moved off to his right also, rolling with his arms over his head to have the blade in line with his arched posture. Catching the red blade dangerously close this person. Sliding his right foot backwards, giving a more upright stance as he thrust his own Lightsaber back in the direction it came. Possible pulling Tsis along during the process.




Allies: [member="Romi Jade"] - [member="Quvox"]

Enemies: [member="Tsisaar Taral"] - [member="Vili Ozouf"] - [member="Darth Imperia"]
 
Location: High Council Chambers
Allies: [member="Taeli Raaf"], [member="Darth Prazutis"], [member="Alvarex Zambrano"]

Enemies: [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Mishel Noren"], [member="Cotan Sar'andor"]
Gear:

Starfighters strafed along the temple perimeter, trading blows with each other as Imperial and Alliance aces engaged in heated dogfights that left more than a handful of pilots burning corpses as their fighters careened down into the already burning city. A single T-95 Tandem X-Wing Starfighter expertly bobbed and weaved around the collapsing skeleton of a shelled down skyscraper as it tumbled down to earth, glasteel and flaming office debris bouncing off of the starfighter's cockpit and fuselage. Behind it flew one of the Sith Empire's TIE Interceptors, its movements agile and graceful as it stayed on the X-Wing's tail through every twist and turn.

Unlike conventional TIE fighters, the Sith's interceptors were protected by a deflector shield that shimmered with the glancing impacts of the tandem X-Wing's rear cannon. They had been at this for nearly half an hour, dancing back and forth as one tried to get the other in its sights and deliver the coup de grâce. As both of them neared the Jedi Temple's high tower, the fighting between them began to intensify. Through either skill or luck, the X-Wing managed to get the Interceptor into a perfect range and launched a volley of laser blasts that cut through the TIE's starboard wing, causing the Imperial pilot to lose altitude rapidly.

But before the Interceptor started to descend, it managed to launch a concussion missile that squarely connected with the X-Wing's aft compartment. In a spectacular show of fire and sparkling electronics, both the X-Wing and the TIE Interceptor dropped out of the sky and crashed into the base of the tower. The un-launched Interceptor missile payloads exploded on impact, sending a fireball roaring through the lower levels of the tower and crippling the structural integrity of the tower itself.

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The Emperor landed on the uneven ground with a tremendous thud, parts of the destroyed floor cracking and splintering under his weight as he turned to face his enemies. Lady Raaf had destroyed the floor of the council chambers to deny the Jedi an easy escape and had sent the entire party plummeting down several floors to a smaller antechamber. With a twirl of his lightsaber, the Dark Lord of the Sith took stock of his surroundings.

Cotan had fallen on his back, a smoldering wound evident in his left arm. Undoubtedly a result of the Emperor's lightsaber. The others had fallen with them and were either taking a moment to recover or had already reengaged in hostilities.

Before Carnifex stood the girl who had accompanied Master Starchaser in confronting Taeli, a girl whose name he couldn't recollect at that moment; though she seemed familiar. He laughed darkly as she steeled herself against him, her courage waning despite her attempts to rally. "The Force mocks you, Jedi. It has placed you before me so that you can die." Carnifex angled his lightsaber at the smaller Jedi, taking several cautionary steps in a counterclockwise around her before he leaped into action.

Drawing upon the Dark Side of the Force, the Emperor's attacks were both brutal and nightmarishly quick. He gave himself over the sensations he experienced in battle: hatred for his enemies; fury towards their actions; and the fear that they may yet still prevail even after everything that had been levied against them. Oh yes, the Emperor did not neglect or try to bury deep his fear, for fear was potent as any tool the Dark Side could afford him. There was an erroneous misconception that the Sith were controlled by their emotions, that they were beasts with no rhyme or reason for their actions.

That couldn't be further from the truth.

A true Sith mastered his emotions and displayed considerable control over them. He was not beholden to their whims, he was the architect of his own feelings. Through them, he could achieve a power greater than any Jedi dared to even dream of possessing.

And that power was exercised through the Emperor's mastery of Juyo, the Ferocity Form, the Way of the Vornskr. And he did not hold anything back.

Yet even in the fervor of battle, the Emperor could tell that their surroundings were changing. The angle of the floor began to warm as the chairs that had once encircled the now destroyed council chambers began to tumble end over end to one side of the room. He pulled back from his onslaught, looking around in concern as he focused to maintain his footing and balance.

The tower was falling!
 

Alexandra Feanor

The Lady in Silver/Grey Historian
Location - Jedi Temple > Main Hall > Archive Entrance

Allegiance - Help the GA people. [member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Jyoti Nooran"] [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] [member="Jairdain"] [member="Mereel Vaun"]

Enemies - [member="Tathra Khaeus"] [member="Xevek Rakama"] [member="Vanessa Vantai"] [member="Darth Sabezt"] [member="Adrian Vandiir"] (And others heading for the Archives)

Objective - Commit Murder.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Ry10a97Ge4



Alexandra raised a brow when she saw the man turn into three, her head shaking and eyes turning to look at Vanessa once more. She decided it would probably be best to answer the woman before what ever this man was doing was done. Her mouth opened and just as she was about to speak, she froze. Her breathing, her eyes, her heart, everything was frozen just as it had been when she originally had set up her connection to the force. Even that slowly bled away as the milky white color that had claimed her eyes retreated and she they became their normal Violet shade. It was as if she had not even connected herself to the force in that way in the first place.

Inside her mind, a million thoughts circulated as Vereshin would find the three minds resisting at first but then succumbing and each seeing their own personal nightmares. The first two, were something that people might expect, especially that of one like a dark spirit might feel. It was Alexandra's that while somewhat cliche only flashed for a quick instant. Once it was done the other two had theirs cut off and they would be smiling at Vereshin's intruders in Alex's mind.

Hel's had been simple, a universe in which she had never been created. She was nothing more than Alexandra's emotions, she had no selfawareness, no strength, no free will, nothing. It was an existence as Alexandra, even if only a part of the woman, it was being the one person she wished she could erase. It was a nightmare that seemed mundane but one all the same for the being that hated that which created her.

Daeda meanwhile was forced to one by one lose a constant train of bonds. Even if it were impossible for the creature, it happened continuously as Daeda was forced into a bond and then that bond broken, each time stealing a little bit from the ashlan repeatedly. The small creature forced into a constant loop as it waited for it to end.

Alex though, Alex stood and waited, knowing some kind of personalized torment was coming and she waited the being to break through her guards. When Vereshin did break through, Alexandra would be waiting patiently, a chair created in this mental realm of hers for her to sit in. She merely said one word, expecting something to happen now that she was open to manipulation by the being.

"Well?" She spoke, and she immediately witnessed the result, and just as quickly it was gone. All Vereshin would see is three bodies on the ground, drained of their blood and dead. If he looked at the Visage of Alexandra, it would be joined by Hel and Daeda who had been broken out of their loops. The two minds that flanked her would simply say one quick phrase, their voices in unison as they spoke.

"You shouldn't have done that." Was what they said, the only warning for Vereshin as the physical world was launched into a change.

Alexandra's eyes narrowed, pupils grew miniscule and her hand yanked the staff up, carrying it like a javalin before it was launched like a cannon at the Doppleganger on the far right. The force was pushed behind the staff, rocketing it forward and pushing it with as much force as she could put behind it. She did not stand there though. Her face was one of pure rage, controlled but feral rage. It was something that was akin to the very animals she shared traits with now and she herself after launching the staff at the doppleganger on the far right charged the center.

It was not a slow buildup of speed, or even one that had something to hint at how quick she would approach him. She merely stood there one moment, then her features changed, the staff was launched and her body shot forward like a cannon ball. She did not slow, did not talk, did not move her eyes from the focused target. Her body ran on all fours, eyes slowly turning red as Alexandra let Hel have control of her body. Hel would be able to use that rage effectively, letting herself become the calculating mind while Hel was the one controlling the body and how the force was used. And when she reached that middle Vereshin, she reached out.

Alexandra's hands, like they had been before, were more like claws. Her face twisted into anguish and fury and her hands started to spark in the very same way that Vereshin's had. If she could latch onto her target, she would let out a blast of force lightning point blank into the middle Vereshin, fully intent on reducing it to ash and remove it from the very world. Hel did not stop there, in the case it failed to destroy the center image. She would start bringing her hands down on the man, a dark shadow collecting around Alexandra's body as Hel became more like a puppeteer and less a resident of the body. Her form shadowed the body, striking with as much force and speed as she could.

Vanessa in the meanwhile would never get that response, she would only witness the change as the entire situation in the physical world took seconds. One moment Alexandra had turned to say something to her and the next Alexandra was attempting to reduce one of the dopplegangers to nothing while the staff had been launched like a bullet at another. Only one of the three had been spared any harm, and if Vereshin was lucky, he was the one that was untouched.

Alexandra was not a feral beast though, unable to see what was happening or unable to know when some danger was going to be sent at her. The center Vereshin, if it shared information with the others and was a doppleganger, would still see that glint of intelligence and understanding. They would know that even with Alexandra in this state, she was there and she would respond to any response that these Sith decided to try. And she would let Hel do so in the most painful way the spirit could think of.

One line of speech did escape her once the center Vereshin was gone, or knocked aside if he were the real one.

"You will pay for making me see that you damnable and hell spawned creature. I will make sure no matter who tries it, they will not be able to find your karking body in the void."
 
Location: Traveling -> Beyer's Hospital
Allies: [member="Jairus Starvald"]
Future persons of interest: [member="Ember Farseer"] [member="Anais Auraeli"] [member="Mara Merrill-Valkner"] [member="Preliat Mantis"]
Objective: Rendezvous with Jairus- IS THAT A TRUCK?!?!

Cerbera's response was what she needed to hear. And seeing as how that was not ever that woman's MO, Irajah had no doubt that it was also true. [member="Cerbera"] was no good for gentle lies to make someone feel better. If she promised that the children were safe, then they were- as much as they possibly could be when the Sith had come to rain fire down on Coruscant.

She moved through the chaos swiftly, without deviating from her path except when the way forward was impossible to traverse. She moved by and large against the tide, the petite form shifting smoothly, if in the wrong direction. Most people didn't notice her beyond a single glance- why would they? They had bigger problems, bigger fears, bigger terrors than a lone woman going the wrong way. They had their own skins, their families, their loved ones. Those that did take more than a heartbeat to meet her eye, to consider telling her that she should be heading away-

They swiftly thought better of it and plowed onward in their own rush to the illusion of safety.

She could feel Jairus. The connection in the force sang with tension but also joy. Not the sort anyone else would recognize as that, but Irajah knew him all too well. This, the fire and the blood, the crumbling of power at the very foundation. This was the place Jairus lived and called home. This was where he thrived.

There was more than the joy, however. She felt the sing of annoyance. And the thick weight of his smugness, like a heavy blanket.

Everything going on around him was more distant. She couldn't see through him, not without far more attention than either of them could afford at the moment, so it was muted, impressions. Just broad strokes on a canvas. She knew what his cultists could do, why they existed at all, and part of the smug she felt certain was just how well they were accomplishing those goals. That they bled, that they died? Immaterial.

Beyer's hospital was a hive of activity. Mostly in the same vein as she had so far encountered.

Chaotic. Fearful.

Moving in the direction opposite.

She could feel the warp and snap of the connection, tugging up.

In her role as 'Doctor Calais', Irajah had been here on a handful of occasions. Consulting for another doctor, over seeing the transfer of a patient not suited to the nature of the clinic. She approached the lower entrance swiftly, slipping between a pair of orderlies wheeling out a blood soaked patient- new, from the events as they spiraled faster and faster out of control- no longer safe. Not here.

Beyer Hospital was no longer a place of refuge.

It was a place of madness.

Irajah neither reveled in that nor despised it. It didn't particularly affect her, one way or the other. Chaos simply was. It was both a curse and an opportunity, all dependent on what one did with it. She moved through it with the calm assurance of someone who had walked through hell and back. This was that itself, hell. But it was a familiar hell.

At least until the repulsor truck came crashing down.

She heard it, the weight crashing through a walkway between the level it had fallen from and the one she was moving across. Hazel eyes drew up, widening slightly. A heartbeat to act, and she lept forward, fingers curling in a death grip around a hand rail as it plummeted through the walkway behind her.

Others weren't so lucky. If she had been moving in the other direction, along with the flow of the crowd, she wouldn't have been either. Dozens of people were crushed, or fell to their death when the repulsor truck continued on its descent down down down.

Her feet hung over empty space, swaying slightly with the scant movement of the railing, still bolted to the outer wall of the hospital. The walkway itself had ripped from the wall with a sickening groan, leaving her dangling over hundreds of meters of empty air. Holding on grimly, she looked down, watching as her shoes tumbled down in the wake of the still falling truck.

Damn it, she'd liked those heels.

Turning her attention to where it needed to be, she pulled herself up. Small, certainly not a powerhouse but stronger than she looked, she used a thread of the force to strengthen her further, until she could swing a leg up over the bottom rail and reach up to catch the top.

The metal groaned and Irajah froze.

"Don't even think about it," she muttered, teeth clenched.

Still calm, she eyed the distance, calculating.
 

Hope Clarke

Guest
H
Name: Hope Clarke
Location: Jedi Temple, Third Floor
Allies: The Sith Empire
Enemies: Literally Anyone Else
Equipment:
Ascendancy Black Trooper Armor | SAB-032 Multi Purpose Sidearm
Objective: Rendezvous with Sith Empire forces. Kill anything non Sith that moves. Survive. Don't blow your cover.

------

Hope, otherwise known as Kara Saunders, snuck his way down the long corriders climbing over falled pillars along the way. Wherever Hope looked he saw a body. Commonly they were deceased Jedi and there was the occassional Sith trooper. 'So this is the kind of damage a surprise attack can do', Hope thought. He shrugged off feelings of guilt and continued on. Along the way, he heard voices. Hope whispered,'Jedi' and hurried to find a place to hide and wait for them to pass. He found a pillar that could be hide Hope when he's crouched and stayed still. Despite the fact he told himself he was going to kill Jedi, there were two of them and he could be in trouble. Since he didn't have any actual training to use the damned Force. Even with his special forces training, two Jedi, could overpower him. Especially if they are exceptionally well trained. If a Master was there, Hope is very well screwed. So he waited.

After 5 minutes of waiting, two figures came into view. One was a human male with short brown hair and a youngish face, probably in his early 20s. He had the signature ponytail that marked him as a Padawan. He was wearing the classic tan and cream robes and had a lightsaber at the ready. The second figure was also a Padawan, a female Echani who wore the same robes except they are of the female variant. She also had that ponytail that marked her as a Padawan and she was in her mid 20s. Her lightsaber was also out. This was going to be a problem. The woman stopped which prompted the other Padawan to stop as well. The male asked,"What's wrong?" "Do you feel that? That familiar presence...I haven't felt in a long time," the female replied. Hope froze. Familiar presence? Before he could do anything, he heard the sound of a lightsaber activation and the female calling out,"Come on out! I know you're out there! I cam sense your signature in the Force! Show yourself!" Hope smiled. He wasn't going to make a move. He'll wait for them to pass and then tactically take him out of the picture, and swiftly deal with the Echani female.

He heard their footsteps grow louder and the female's voice still shouting for him to show himself. Oh he'll show himself. Just not in the way they'll expect. Hope holstered his blaster. He waited till he's staring at their backs. Noting that Jedi could sense hostile actions directed to them, Hope made sure to mask any emotions he felt and ceased any hostile thought. He moved silently and matched his footsteps to the pair. He lifted up his hands and as soon as he got close to the male, he latched on. Hope's right arm snaked across the male's throat and the left hand covered his mouth. The man was struggling and panicking. Hope could feel the Padawan's pulse racing. He dragged the Jedi back enough before the Echani turned around and saw what was happening. She ran over and threw her hand out. Hope could feel the force of the push throw him off the male Padawan and throwing him quite a distance. Hope landed next to a Jedi's body and he could see a lightsaber lying a couple inches near its owners hand. Hope took his blaster out his blaster and fired a few shots at the Echani. She easily deflected them while the male human recovered and activated his lightsaber. The Echani's blade was a vibrant green with the human's blade being blue. Hope holstered his blaster and grabbed the lightsaber from the ground. He activated it and it showed a vibrant neon purple. "Well, how about that?," he said to no one in particular. Hope lifted up the blade and squared off against the two Padawans. It's going to be one helluva fight.
 
CORUSCANT
Main Hall, Jedi Temple
WITH: [member="Jace Khel"] & [member="Quvox"]



OBJECTIVE: Engage [member="Vili Ozouf"]
MELD ALLIES: Paddys [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Marcus Faust"] [member="Cambria Zadira"] [member="Veino Garn"] (any others who accept)
ENEMIES: [member="Tsisaar Taral"] & [member="Darth Imperia"]

[youtube]https://youtu.be/ZCk4RiKH9H0[/youtube]

q5dBogq.jpg
She fully expected the whip of her blade to connect, and it did. Just as she was about to follow that through with another sequence of blows, her opponent hooked her blade again and tugged her blade outward to her right. A subtle twitch of her left eyelid was a short display of irritation if one could catch it. She stiffened her wrist with every intention to finish it for good this time. "Alright. I'm done playing!"

Before she could produce the stroke she really wanted, she caught the deft kick to her shin which forced her foot off its individual stair and she stumbled forward while losing her balance. Quick enough to respond, she clawed for the floor with her free hand. As her palm and fingers would spread along the marble tile she tensed up to catch herself.


In the few seconds she had before she retaliated, she was startled by dust and small chunks of duracrete hitting the floor beside her. She glanced up. A crack was opening in the elaborate ceiling. It branched, branched again, and again.

"Oh Kark..." Her words barely audible.

She dropped to her left knee. Shifting her body weight, she recalled her blade back to its hilt. Swinging around clockwise again, her back would be temporarily facing him as she leveraged herself on both knees now. Her right arm seemingly appeared to be coming back around for striking fast sweep but instead of following through she jabbed the weapon while simultaneously igniting through the back end of her jacket; a feint. With her hilt clogged between her chest and armpit, the scarlet blade protruded through her jacket and straight for his abdomen at a strikingly fast speed.

She cared little for whether it seared through him or not, she just wanted to give herself the room to "Fall back! Jace and Quvox lets go, this place is falling apart!" she spoke to them through the meld, her voice prevalent in their minds as if she was directly near them.

She came up in a rush, leaping to her feet from her knees while her arm was pumping and slashing wide in order to cover her flank. She quickly turned around and propelled her left hand out in front of her, it seemingly looked as though she was amping up an invisible strength. It was a maneuver that was common to most Force-users when they wanted to push things via the Force. However, when her palm opened for the great reveal it was nothing more than a tiny piece of tech with a bright flashing light; emergency beacon.

She smirked, before she lunged forward and followed through with a few more steps. She wove a series of scarlet snakes while stepping past his guard, twisting and parrying her way passed him only to get to the other side; Her after images carved what appeared to be an infinity symbol. Gracefully climbing a couple of steps at the same time, she urged her apprentices "We've gotta go high!" the ship would pick them up at an upper level.
 

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