[ENDGAME] - Shadow's Fall

[Coren Starchaser]

He could feel it, the meld. The reach from other Jedi nearby, out to him, and Mishel, and Cotan. Support from those who couldn’t enter the council chambers. To the ones who should be able to, but with the pair of Sith Lords here, were doing their duty to defend the temple, and preserve life and knowledge. They were people he knew of by reputation, but having only run across on his way from somewhere to no place in particular. The strength was needed.

But Coren knew where he was here. He could feel the pull towards the darkness, seeing the swirling waters of the Force, but he knew he could get closer. Closer and still escape. The way of the Vornskr. Allowing the rage to enter, but to ride on it, not to succumb to it. He could feel the determination in the Jedi around him, as well as the Sith. And the Master was focusing, watching the fight in front of him.

Taeli had turned his focus onto Mishel. Right after she had blasted him with a telekinetic shove. The Force was not fast enough to take that energy in, and he shuffled back. Gritting his teeth, he saw the power that Taeli had, and that Mishel was trying to muster. He knew he was a Jedi, but there was a time when being a Jedi needed to put others first, even if it meant teetering towards and edge. The Force had given him many gifts, and many ways to dispatch a Sith.

Pushing back at [member="Romi Jade"], he was feeling the reach from the meld, but knew he could pull the whole thing off kilter. “No…” He sent out to her as he continued to call the Force to him. Leaping into the air, towards Taeli, Coren began to hurl a blast of lightning, emerald and sparking, towards the Betrayer. The lightning arced across his body which was following the blast, intending to bring his saber, and weight, at the Sith Lady.

[member="Mishel Noren"]
[member="Taeli Raaf"]

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

Location: High Council Chamber Platform
Allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Mishel Noren"] [member="Romi Jade"] @Etc
Enemies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] et al.
Gear: Lightsaber, training lightsaber, Bryar pistol

"There's a lot of individuality left, don't worry."

Cotan smirked, his blade catching and turning the first few hews and slashes that Carnifex levelled against him. However, where Carnifex sought to keep him on the defensive, Cotan's plan was different. When the intensity went up slightly, Cotan stepped forwards and to the right, well into the reach of the blade, his forearms straining against the hammering that was the Dark Lord's assault. The move brought him more towards the middle of the space, carefully keeping him away from the edge that the Emperor so carefully tried to drive him towards.

Cotan didn't stop there, however; he brought himself further forward, narrowly ducking under one of Carnifex's slashes, and turning another with his blade. The movement he'd made into the lightclub's range, barely a second's worth of decisive action, cut off the jabs that the Dark Lord had been trying to make, giving Cotan the opportunity to press the attack, if only for a short moment. He bolstered himself with the Force, enabling the light that the other Jedi so desparately sought to preserve to suffuse his muscles, making him faster and stronger than before.

Then, with a movement so small and precise that any normal man or woman of the galaxy might not even realize it, he altered the angle of one of his parries; Carnifex's blade clashed against it and slid to the ground, and Cotan brought his own down in response, aiming a stab right into the spot where all three of the emitters of Kaine Zambrano's weapon came together.

 

[Quvox]

Quvox​

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Hangar, Jedi Temple​

With: [member="Jace Khel"] and [member="Romi Jade"]​

Objective: Survive [member="Darth Imperia"]​

Enemies: [member="Tsisaar Taral"] | [member="Vili Ozouf"] |​

​

At least someone was happy. The laugh was almost outrightly bitter in a way, filled with poison and toxicity behind it. It was unsettling in its own way, and Quvox so far really wasn't enjoying the company that he had. He was pretty sure the Sith he was going up against here was far more experienced than he was in almost all matters of the force; so maybe orthodoxy wasn't going to cut it here. She was going to be more knowledgable, maybe more talented than he was in every typical way you were taught. So he had to do what he'd always done. Survive, scratch and claw, fight for his own life until he came out the other end, no matter in what condition.

He couldn't play fair, here. Maybe that wasn't the Jedi way, but....he'd just be dead, otherwise. Then what use would he be to anybody? It wasn't like he was some wise old grandmaster passing away to become one with the force and make the entirety of the whole better as a result. He was a Padawan, newly minted if even that, and not taught in the more advanced styles and techniques that you could find amongst Jedi Knights and experienced Sith Lords, Darths, all the dangerous kinds of people he really didn't want to ever encounter. This woman certainly wasn't an Acolyte, higher than that, but hopefully she wasn't a Darth, anything like that.

Quvox hadn't been expecting to be lectured as his first slash was batted back, and he certainly wasn't expecting more once Imperia met his blade and the amount of pressure he put forward, matching it even as he pushed slightly harder. He took a moment to try and think of a solution, to try and strategize...anything. There had to be a plan here he could come up with. As he kept pushing, he had a plan. Not much of one, but it was an idea nonetheless. "Not a Jedi just yet.." As Quvox spoke, he began applying more pressure, like he was trying to brute force his way past her guard.

As he did it, figuring she could easily match him and that she knew that too, he carried out what small plan he had. The Ubese deactivated his lightsaber, having only just thought about the fact that although these weapons weren't sticks, they weren't swords, either - they didn't have much weight and could be turned on and off, which was an advantage in of itself. He was banking on her having used her strength to push forward and her momentum pulling a bit forward as he moved to the side, trying to avoid her charge and use his status as a leaner, smaller target to make that possible.

While he sidestepped, Quvox pulled out one of the few actual weapons he had - he thrust his hand out, his palm outstretched as The Force rushed through his body and up his arm, pushing out from his palm. He had aimed it towards the side of her head and face, Pushing to hopefully make distance between them or send her flying, anything that might give him some breathing room here. The Meld helped him focus the force, his exertion far more potent than usual. Maybe he could pull this off, maybe not, but he was proud of this little scheme. If he survived this, maybe he could tell Jace about it.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Coruscant, Upper Levels

In a darkened room two figures watched the ongoing battle. One a roughly human sized being in dark robes sitting in a comfortable chair, looking over the city through a panoramic window, and the other a very tall, lanky humanoid stood behind him. Orthus was not one to participate in battles such as this, nor did he care for the outcome. Either the Alliance would rally and fend of the Sith, or the Sith would loot whatever trinkets they sought and would claim victory shortly after.

It had been done before, it would be done again.

The being in the chair sat comfortably, resting with his legs crossed before him, dark robes covering his body, black trousers and a simple dark tunic. Over the being's face was a silver mask, covered with intricate engravings, pupil-less red eyes peering through it. One hand held a small wine glass filled with a crimson liquid, the unlabeled bottle setting on a side table near the cushioned chair. Beside him claw marks of a canine marked the floor, but nothing filled the space where such a hound might be.

"Amon, stop pacing." A cold metallic voice echoed from beneath the mask, no distortion or audio garbling, that was just how the Sith's voice sounds. Almost robotic, some described it. The tall being stopped suddenly, turning about to face the robed figure, his own cloak coming to rest as he stopped moving. "You'll wear a path in the rug and I'm told its expensive."

The apartment wasn't their's of course, but borrowed from one of the thousands evacuating or taking shelter, sat in the distance from the worst of the fighting, high enough in the tower to be considered wealthy, but hardly the penthouse of a rich or famous individual. "What? Am I supposed to take it with us?" The being asked, passing a large halberd to his other hand.

A deep, almost exasperated sigh escaped the robed being in the chair, raising a glass of wine to the mask and taking a small sip from its contents. Orthus held the wine for a moment, tasting it before downing the drink. Red eyes didn't flinch, just watching the proceedings quietly while the tall being behind him shifted its weight from one foot to the other, impatiently standing guard with his halberd being passed from hand to hand. "We'd hate to ruin our host's furnishings needlessly." The people who owned the apartment were likely in a bunker or crowding a spaceport to leave, and would hardly notice their furniture moved around slightly, especially if the Sith forced the Alliance off-world. There would be looting to follow in the wake of the lawlessness.

 

[Tanaski Yumi]

Location: Coruscant-Jedi Temple-->Record Halls
Allies: SJO & GA, Immediate ([member="Sky'ito Yumi"])
Enemies: FO, TSE, Immediate Enemies ([member="Darth Sabezt"] [member="Adrian Vandiir"])

Before Tana had a chance to react to the sudden Sith in front of him a sudden sharp pain assaulted his mind, one that felt similar to the metal attack as Sith Lord had done back when the TSE raided Kasyyyk, but this was far worse. Instead of just worry and doubt sudden flashes of horrible entities came into his mind, almost as if he had been transported to the nine Corellian hells, undesirable daemons flying around and ear wrenching screams.

To any lookers the young Jin would simply crumple to their knees near one of the main pillars, seemingly staring off into nothingness as the Sith Lord continued to walk towards the defenseless librarians. He had not expected such a mental attack before, and though trained Taeras Kasi in could not hope to ward off such strength from a Sith lord. It was a problematic position, but hopefully some other Jedi or his sister would arrive in time to snap him out of such delusions.

 

[Marcus Faust]

Location: Jedi Temple
Allies: Jedi, [member="Vulpesen"]
Enemies: Sith, [member="Darth Morgoth"]
Objective: He also attacc

Trust me

The voice whispered, in it he sensed no darkness, no malcontent, and as such he let [member="Romi Jade"] in, adding his own mind to the fold. Together, the Guardian and the Jedi were stronger in the face of all consuming darkness. Then, as if on que, Vulpesen's vessel arrived. "Go, go now!" He barked, ushering the children into the ship's hold while he joined his former foe in propelling rubble at the Sith Lord.

Chunk after chunk of the emasculate temple would speed towards the darksider, striking high, low, and everywhere in between with deadly velocity. Faust was not here to take prisoners, he was here to save lives, and he had no qualms putting down one of Carnifex's rabid dogs to do it. As the last child boarded the Vixen, confidence swelled in his chest, a slight smirk tugging at his scarred face.

There would be more, those at the archives would be in need of help, and who was he to not oblige? More young lives were at stake after all. The hangars would need to be secured in order to provide them a viable escape, but such machinations would have to wait just a moment longer for the Vixen to lift away.

 

[Vili Ozouf]

Location: Main Hall
Objective: Tango with [member="Romi Jade"]
Allies: [member="Darth Imperia"] [member="Tsisaar Taral"]
Enemies: [member="Jace Khel"] [member="Quvox"] [member="Romi Jade"]

Finally, the battle had truly begun! No longer was the Jedi before him focusing on those around her, she had turned her attention to the foe that sat before her. Watching Vili had to marvel at the way the Jedi moved, her steps were filled with the grace and balance to match a twi’lek dancer, perhaps even make one envious. Vili saw her dodge Sol as it continued onwards and past her and meeting the marble wall behind her with a solid TWAK. The moment it did Vili reached out with that invisible tendril of his willpower seizing the ax that so desperately wanted to be joined with its Master. Vili hadn’t truly delved into the force but he had learned a few tricks this being one of them. Tugging at the ax he brought it back, though this time it wasn’t whistling through the air instead it flew in a direct path for the back of the Jedi’s right leg, not the business end of course but the inside hook which was just as sharp and lethal.

Vili would’ve commended the Jedi on her skillful maneuver as she redirected his own attack instead of attempting to meet it head-on. What came next all seemed to happen in an instant, there was the faint hiss as the saber retreated into its hilt the crimson glow vanishing. Then it returned this time Vili could look and see the conviction on the Jedi’s face. She was taking him as a serious threat. GOOD. Aware of Sol that was on a return for the woman’s leg Vili simply had to wait. Lowering his right knee to the ground his body turning counter-clockwise as he lowered himself. Bending his arm at the elbow it would almost appear as though the Sith was flexing. This brought Mani back where the saber would meet the alchemized wood. Smiling Vili would pull forward using the inner hook of Mani to drag the Jedi’s saber out to her right as Sol approached at her leg.

 

[Kuzo]

Location: Traveling
Allies: [member="Jairus Starvald"]
Future persons of interest: [member="Ember Farseer"] [member="Anais Auraeli"] [member="Mara Merrill-Valkner"] [member="Preliat Mantis"]
Objective: Get home- NOPE. Call the baby sitter. Rendezvous with Jairus

It was clear, very quickly, that there would be no getting back to their home in the bedlam that was Coruscant. Too close to the central districts, too chaotic and dangerous. Normally while it was a long walk (over an hour, but Irajah liked it at the beginning and end of her day), it was possible to get from the medical center to their apartments. Now?

If she had to, she could. But she also knew exactly who the children were with. And if there was anyone who could protect them it was her. Pulling out her communicator, she reached out to [member="Cerbera"] .

"Tell me you got them out of the apartment and somewhere safe," were the first words she spoke as she took a lift up another level. "I don't think I can make it back safely- I'm pretty sure a Sith battle cruiser came down in the next district."

As the lift drew upward, she looked down over the scene.

"Yep. I can't make it from that direction..... if you and they are safe, then I'm going to meet Jai but if you need me I will find a way- I need to know my children are safe, Cerbera."

It wasn't a matter of trust in the other woman. She had, after all, literally gone into the Netherworld to bring Irajah back. She owed her a debt she could never repay. This wasn't a call being made in distrust. It was one being made in need.

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

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 - Deal with the Master and the Apprentice

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



Alexandra found two annoyances entertain her, the first by far the most irritating and she let her eyes glide to the form of someone she knew very well. Her smile touched her lips as she spoke, greeting a former friend.

"Hello Circe, what a pleasure to see you again. I will certainly get to surrendering... as soon as you come down here and go kark yourself. You think I would ever want your 'mercy' after the last time you thought to pay me a visit. I have more important things to do and people to see, rather than entertain a spineless poodoo stain like yourself. Go find the nearest black hole and jump in it you coward."

The smile didn't fade as Alexandra walked right through the illusion, ignoring anything that would come from its mouth from that point on and focusing on the two individuals who were getting closer. She would have dealt with the other one behind them, but if she had to choose, the greater threat was coming from the hallway she had prepared herself in. For now there was the two, but there were three others nearby and the old friend Jairdain had mentioned. Alexandra would love to indulge in a good fight, but she would leave that for her companion and Vulpesen's troops. They could handle him.

She sighed and chose now to remove her robes. First came the cloak, her hand coming up to remove the clasp on one side, carefully dragging it along her back and pulling it over her right shoulder where she would remove the second clasp. From there she quickly and neatly folded it, laying it on the ground with the force as her hands moved to untie and pull off the robes she wore. Her trademark silver robes left her form and were treated with the same care as her cloak, floating the belongings to the side and breathing out slowly.

With that she remained in her tunic and trousers, the same grey color of her old student's uniforms. Her hand touched at a symbol on her shoulder, her smile growing slightly more and softer. At her waist was the second of her sabers and in her hand the warstaff flew again, resting there and extending to its full length. And it was like that that she waited now for the two individuals, for [member="Darth Sabezt"] and [member="Adrian Vandiir"].

The two were surprising. Out of most sith, calm and collected was a word she rarely got to use these days. She remembered the raving fools and monsters of when she was with the sith, Daeda and Hel speaking up on their own merit. The three held their dialogue and council, trying to decide how to deal with the two. As usual Hel's suggestion was... macabre, and caused Alexandra to glance at her companion who the dark spirit had suggested using as something akin to a pin cushion or meat shield. Daeda's was more animistic and direct, something she could not do as it would be too reckless considering the situation. She could still feel others heading in this direction and doing anything reckless could get herself far too injured to stand the fraction of a chance that she already did.

That left her with the idea that the three agreed was their best course of action. Daeda prepared Alexandra's mind as Hel faded from her concious mind. Alexandra in the meantime let her eyes abandon the world and her sight vanish. Slowly the violet orbs faded and turned a milky white, her sight abandoning her and being replaced with the force as she drew it in and the flow pierced through her. She exhaled, the breath lost as she stood there and the smile vanished. Soon she could see the man's hand move, the force acting like sonar for her and shaping the world and its contents, and with it how the force was manipulated and how the flow changed. She touched the strings and gripped hard on them when she saw him extend his mind out to her.

For a moment, it seemed to capture her. Her body relaxed, her knees weaker, her breath caught in her throat again. But Sabezt would not find a mind surrendered, instead he would find the mind infested already. A woman with ash colored skin strode towards him within Alexandra's mind, A small wolf circling around the blank stand that the Sith would find himself looking around on, and behind him was an Echani with eyes of icy blue color, hair of silver, and a voice of Velvet as it spoke.

"Welcome, I hate to disappoint you but the woman you see infront of you has already shown me enough to keep my soul imprisoned for two years, the fox has already created a labyrinth to fight that woman who would seek to contain me... and I am wiser to such methods. I am sorry to disappoint you, Hel there would have loved to see what you could conjure inside our head, but I have someone I intend to see at the end of all of this and you are quite mistaken. If you wish to try and enter my mind or place thoughts into it, you will find it is not your house I will be drawn into, but rather mine."

The ghostly woman started to walk towards the form of the man, the influence and soul that was cast into her head taken shape. If he did not end the connection yet she would reach up and touch the Form that was Sebazt's mind and smile, imparting a memory onto him, a feeling. It was something Alexandra knew how to do quite well, something Empaths were very good at doing. It was the feeling of having one's arms bitten off by a beast and a blade through their chest.

"This is how I died, and why you cannot harm me with this method. I have seen Hell, I was with the Sith, and I know this trick. Face me with a spine." If he had stuck till the end, Alexandra would cut the connection then and there, standing with a straight face and looking at [member="Adrian Vandiir"], shaking her head at him as if to say for him to stay put.

This was where Alexandra spoke in the real world, only with more glee as Hel started to assume control of her mind, as the dark spirit had a tendency to during battle. Alexandra became more feral as her shoulders moved, separating from their place and resting in a far wider way. Her body twisted for a moment and shuddered, leaving a wolfish grin on her face.

"Hello Boys. I had hoped you would play with me in this reality and not up here..." She tapped her forehead quickly, her hand showing signs of a change as well, no longer looking quite so human. Her voice was playful almost, like someone who was talking to and teasing a loved one. "Don't tell me that you won't. I would be so disappointed after shedding my illusion just for you two, please tell me that that wasn't for nothing." Her face made a bit of a disappointed look as well, followed by a laugh and her head shaking.

"Gods, how can people do that. I almost want to cut out my tongue for doing that... you had your fun Hel, my turn." Her hand left her forehead and reached out, the force cutting through her body and centering in her palm for a second before shooting out like a cannon at the master and apprentice, attempting to send them flying and starting off this little contest of theirs.

Only one more thing touched her mind, something she did not let connect. She knew the benefits of a meld, and knew how it could help her, but her mind needed to be focused on this situation and she could not have Hel or Daeda becoming distracted and their cohesion becoming weakened. She had a threat of her own to deal with right now, the others could handle things without her mind adding to their Meld.

 

[Onrai]

[member="Alexandra Feanor"] [member="Jairdain"]

"I'm here, you know." She said, sighing. The message had been sent. Alliance ships successfully taken by the traitors were jumping out, traveling to the system the message sent through the corrupted naval beacon had guided them to. How many ships in total this would be was unknown, but Vanessa was certain that quite the reward would be reaped. Loyalists would be taken by the Sith and Maldrood forces awaiting there and be sent to the Imperial prison system. High-ranked personnel that had been successfully captured were to be turned over to the Saaraishash. The defectors themselves were to be vetted, debriefed, and temporarily quartered until orders came from the instigator of this rebellion as to what was to be done with them. Whether they were to be given Sith citizenship and an opportunity to live normal lives, or whether they were to be integrated into the Imperial armed forces was something that as of yet remained to be seen. whatever the case, Vanessa had no intentions of doing anything harmful to them.

She needed to buy [member="Taeli Raaf"] a drink for this.

Her own shuttle soon landed near the archives, and with a mad scramble she booked it towards the temple, perpetuating lightsaber at her hip as she awaited the opportunity to potentially engage a Jedi. The lightsaber itself was secondary - she intended to do things the tutaminis way - but at the least her abilities with the Force were being truly tested for the first time in ages. Absorbing the blaster bolts in one hand as she fired lightning out the fingers of the other... it was an interesting means of attack. And still the lightsaber stayed at her waist.

She reckoned she would soon be close, but at the moment, having never been into the Jedi archives, she had no idea as to how close she truly was. She hadn't even looked over a map of the building before doing this. "I knew I should've gotten a tourist map sometime."

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

[-SOUNDTRACK-]​

Allies: Galactic Alliance (sort of)​

Enemies: The Sith Empire​

Objectives: Acquire Holocrons | Convert Jedi to the Darkside​

Gear: Wither (Sith Sword) | The Triad (Lightsabers) | Shrouded Blade (Lightsaber) | Obsidian Strike Armor​

Troops: 10 Wolfguards | 100 Undead​

Attn: None Yet Nearby: Everyone in the Temple​

​

• Streets of Coruscant
  Heading towards the Jedi Temple

Like a violent malestrom, the dark, cold void of space above the ancient center of galactic civilization buckled and heaved, spewing forth more metal behemoth to join the carnage above and below. Time and time again, the universe blinked and another deadly metal machine had come to perform its intended purpose of inflicting carnage and utter destruction. The Super Star Destroyer Midnight Exigent lead the way as the Lord of Admirals brought the entirety of the Sword Armada to the carnival of blood and violence that was unfolding, spewing forth the swarms of shuttles that would flock to the planet's surface, the countless droids and soldiers within them waiting to join the fray below. The Confederacy of Independent Systems had come to Coruscant for war.

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Lord of Admirals. Overlord of the Shrouded Republic. White Wolf of Ession. Reaper of Lorrd. These were all titles that Darth Tacitus, once a mortal man, now something else, had bought and paid for with the blood of the countless victims of his wrath. Today, he would be Subjugator of the Dead. He knew that before he even set foot on the surface of the shattered world, the monster's slitted, feline eyes scanning the surrounding carnage as the shuttle lifted off behind him. Lady Death ran wild amongst the streets and skyscrapers around him and it all brought a cruel smile to the Sith Lord's face.

Extending a taloned hand from under the folds of his fur-lined cloak, the Dread Lord of Silence spoke the first words of the ritual that he had spent the last few hours preparing for in secluded meditation. Each word was spat out like a murderous command, each carried with it the distinctive taste of unfathomable darkness, as if the Overlord called forth the wrath of the Netherworld itself.

Fueled by the carnage, the cold, familiar currents of the Darkside rippled around him, causing the very air to shiver in horror as the Sith Lord tore the veil and violated the sanctity of death. Around him, fallen soldiers and butchered Jedi began to stir. It began with a groan, which built up into a whispered scream as the defiled creatures were forced into being, trapped in the eternal moment of their deaths.

A prisoner was pushed forward by one of his Wolfguards, forced to kneel before the Sith Lord with a brutal shove and a kick to the back of the knees. It was one of the Jedi that had been taken prisoner by the Overlord and his followers during the conquering of Nibelungen, what seemed so long ago. Once a proud Knight of his order, the frail, battered being now bore a hollow expression in its face, its mind broken by the torture and experiments it had been subjected to. Today, it would serve its final purpose in the service of the Shrouded Republic's ruler. The Overlord reached out with both hands, gently wrapping clawed fingers around the prisoner's neck, the sharp talons digging in and spilling their victim's life upon the duracrete below. The ritual required blood. And the blood of innocents was the best catalyst.

Here, on this deserted street in the middle of a burning city, one more act of cruelty joined to the countless others unfolding all around, one more stain of Darkness to envelop this ancient planet. And with this act, the Dead were leashed to the Necromancer's will. They rose to do his bidding, shambling about their master, their battered Galactic Alliance uniforms torn and bloody. The Overlord smiled and parted his lips to speak. "Death is no excuse for desertion," the silver-haired demon spoke to his new recruits. "Come. It is time for you to do your duty. We go to the Jedi Temple," he commanded, the shambling abominations obeying without hesitation or question, for all free will had been driven from them. All that remained now, was Purpose. Their master's Purpose. And as the nightmarish procession made its way to its ultimate destination, it fell upon the Sith soldiers it encountered, like a ravenous beast. Blaster's barked angrily into the mass of dead flash shambling towards them, their voices silenced by the wailing shrieks of their wielders as the Dead fell upon them, tearing at their victims with tooth and finger until there was no more blood to spill.

The Overlord came to a halt in front of the battered, broken doors of the Jedi Temple, his eyes drinking the exquisite carnage that had been unleashed against those who wronged him so long ago, those that tore the first woman he had loved from him. This was the end of the Galactic Alliance and their hated Jedi. And despite being here as their supposed ally, the Sith Lord couldn't help but smile, taking pleasure from the downfall of the nation which represented everything he hated.

Now, in the final moments of their slow, tortured demise, the Jedi of the Galactic Alliance would be the unwilling servants of the Overlord's dark purpose. With that in mind, he took the first steps into the blood-soaked halls beyond.

​

 

[Cassus Stoma]

CORUSCANT

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MAIN HALL, JEDI TEMPLE

Jace wouldn't be toyed with this time. He refused, he was to take action, leap to conclusions and not get caught up in what may or may not be the right thing. For now, he knew that the right thing was to defend himself against these Sith, and reach the Jedi Archives to gather what information can be best suited for the Praxeum. There was no other goal except an added piece of the information puzzle. They already had their own information, but it wasn't enough, they needed more even if that sounded very un-Jedi like. It was a mere truth, and Jace saw it as no other way.

The Padawan had become more knowledgable, stronger in physicality, the force and the mind. A constant growth through a period of time, just as it should be, and always will be. There was always more to learn, and Jace was always accepting of the unknown. Yet, he was unwilling to hear Tsis ramble on- he cared not for what he had to say, he was a Sith and only dealt in lies to twist the mind. It was his goal, and that much was apparent. All Jace could do was focus on what was before him physically, not mentally. Even though it was deemed a necessity.

A blade came his way, slicing upwards from his left to right at the hip- it's intent to cause some real damage that may not be fixable. That couldn't happen, not a chance. Jace darted to his left, taking a near-side on stance whilst his blade shifted downwards to intercept. Pushing against it, forcing it away from himself or at the very least leaving it in place as the grinding noise of two sabres clashing became apparent once more. The tension of the two blades persisted as Jace began to slide his own blade down the Sith's, moving in the direction of the hilt itself whilst pouring his strength into maintaining the position of Tsis'. Getting sliced open wasn't preferable.

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

Enemies: [member="Tsisaar Taral"] - [member="Darth Imperia"]l - [member="Vili Ozouf"]

 

[Koda Fett]

​

The missile was still avoided, a shame really. It would've served it's purpose well, if not for that weapon Traske carried. No matter, though. It was only to come again. In the time the Mercenary ahead of him placed reached for his Ion Blasters with both hands, Fett fired another. It pierced the air with a dangerous wail, sure to signify it's own presence and lethal intent. There was no time to stop it now, and whether or not he could run in time was up for debate. Though not even Fett knew of the special tricks that only Traske had, not the Mandalorian. A particular gift, no? It wasn't going to matter in the end. He'd killed that kind before, and he'd do so again.

In his right hand the Carbine remained firmly gripped, firing a barrage of crimson bolts in the direction of Traske as blue ion bolts were returned in his direction. He cut the chord, in a manner of speaking. His jetpack no longer held him within the air, and instead he began to rapidly drop as the bolts soared over his head. Positioning himself underneath the platform after launching a whipcord that firmly wrapped itself around an item beneath Traske's very feet, but unbeknownst to him. As far as he could, Koda had left, but it wasn't as if it were the man he should be focused on.

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Allies: The Sith Empire

Adversaries: [member="Minorous Traske"]

 

[Varik Ice]

Minorous Traske​

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Location: Jedi Temple​

Engaging: [member="Koda Fett"]​

​

He didn't have any chance of stopping the missile this time, but he didn't have to. As Fett began to lower himself, rather than run away or to the sides, Traske moved forward and kept firing, ducking and rolling to avoid the missile entirely as Fett started to disappear below the sides. Wasting no time, Traske leaped, and seeing his adversary stick out his wrist in almost slow motion as he processed everything, Minorous decided to make use of some of the talents he kept hidden. Focusing the force for just a moment he shot himself downwards like a missile to land on Fett, facing towards him. He knew he could give him no time to properly react and move, or otherwise he would lose this chance. He wasn't about to.

Traske had an arm wrapped around the back of Fett's neck to keep the two of them close together, their heads side-by-side. He knew that Fett had a flamethrower ready, and by keeping almost pressed against him, he hoped to make that option harder to use, and the typical headbutts of a Mandalorian warrior near-impossible to properly pull off with enough force to send him off. He kept the firm grip, moving his other hand low and putting punches into Fett's sides. It seemed more like desperation than anything planned, like simply an impulsive move by a talented man.

Minorous waited, knowing that a crushgaunt was no doubt coming for any part of his body. There wasn't anywhere that was hard to access, so he was putting himself at a huge risk here. With his low hand he stopped punching, as though realizing the futility with Beskar armour and trying to just punch it. Moving it low quickly, he brought up a small knife and immediately went for the upper part of one of Fett's arms, hoping to get a stab into one of the few areas that were unprotected so he could actually move, where a blade like this could slip in and stab. Traske knew it wasn't exactly a doomsday weapon, but he was hoping it would do its part.

 

[Mishel Kryze]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1PN8EasOCvg[/media]

The duels raged on within the Council Chambers, the Jedi Knight drawing the Emperor with words and blade.

Mishel's focus was strained as she tried to pull the fire toward her, she felt the pushback of the Deceiver's energy shield. Rather it had been Coren's redirected toward her, and in either case this was certainly a lesson on flipping back up to her feet. Mishel had successfully drawn the woman away from Coren. Good. She thought and as the crimson red blade whisked through the air. Mishel felt a brush in her mind and momentarily distracted by it she felt the sting of the lightsaber as she tried to pull away. Pieces of the padwan's jacket fell the blade seared parts of her skin while doing so. She seethed in the pain, knowing it could have been a lot worse she rejected the meld that [member="Romi Jade"] had sent. Unsure of whether this was friend or foe attempting to interfere. Makashi. Thank you Ara and Kaalia.

The padawan recognized the flurry and parried it poorly as she recovered from the strike. Coren tried to interfere once but clearly the Deceiver wanted to focus on the padawan. The former Knight of Ren gladly entertained the thought. It was all starting to come together, Mishel realized it as she returned the flurry of Makashi with some of her own but done with the only way she knew, that of the Ren Makashi which was sharper meant more for offense than defense. It was here she drew on the familiarity of the woman's aura and remembering Bespin. "Bespin," was all Mishel managed as the yellow hues of her lightsaber clashed against the crimson blade of the Deceiver's. "It was you, you killed Sister Ara." Yes, Mishel was quite upset at Ara on Dagobah, yes Mishel would always enjoy the day of Kyrel getting his comeuppance - but there were some feelings that were hard to sequester.

Mishel looked back at her Master, she could not lose herself now. No, she had come too far, fought too hard to be a Jedi. The fire she called to before now reflected in her eyes as she looked Taeli Raaf in the eyes. She would remember this face, she would remember this day for as long as she lived as the realization set in. This is what was meant to happen, the Force willed it. Darkness had to fall before the Light could truly rise, she could hear the Emperor bark, he mocked the Jedi - but she, she knew what it was to be a mindless drone. She had been a Knight of Ren, she had been without her own will, the Jedi were not these things.

In an instant she saw him, a flash of light drew her attention.

Not good.

Emerald light saturated their arena, and Mishel shook her head. "No." She uttered almost wordlessly at first, "no." Her denial grew, "NO!" Mishel shouted and shifted her stance to Ataru leaping along the debris that remained solid. She dug into the Force and pulled at it, utilizing her Force speed she drew her attention to Coren, and with one arm ready for the throw down she lowered her shoulder into him and moved straight back with intent to pin him against the wall. "This is exactly what she wants you to do! Do NOT give this to her so easily."

"I know what betrayal feels like."

"Siobhan abandoned me to the Ren."

"She will always say that I left, but we know better. That's not what happened and does it hurt? Yes, yes it hurts and did I carry that around with me? Yes, and because of that I let Kyrel Ren of all people manipulate me, goad me because every time he called me an abomination it hurt to the Nethers. Remember out time on Dagoah, and remember that you were there for me. You, you cannot give in, not today - we need you. As much as I want to win this fight, I don't think that's gonna happen today, Master." Mishel looked back over at that fire and focused on it, dragging across hoping it would temporarily stay the Deceiver just long enough for her to get through to Coren. "We can still turn this around, but it's not going to be today, I'm with you until the end of the line. But that line does not have to end today."

"Please, Master - look at me." Mishel's hazel green eyes locked onto Coren's blue. "We have to go."

No, she did not want to give up the fight but she knew it was futile.

Coruscant became a lost cause as the multitudes of soldiers, bombers and monsters now wrought the Netherworld asunder upon its streets. This had been a carefully planned deception one that knew no bounds. The pain of the betrayal would remain with all the Jedi who survived the day, those who could would try to find their way out of the Core, out of Alliance space. Go deep into exile, turn to a nomadic way of life - the light would not be extinguish on this day. Rather the embers of hope would be scattered across the galaxy, the day of Light would come, it would come - it had to.

[member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Cotan Sar'andor"]

 

[Josh Dragovalor]

Location: En route to Coruscant, Final Dragon
Objective: Escort Grandmaster Kitra and ensure the children are evacuated safely.
Allies: [member="Valae Kitra"]

Normally, other faction circumstances were something that Josh stayed away from. But he'd been asked to ensure the safety of Grandmaster Valae Kitra as she went on her own mission. And seeing as he loved kids, and got along with them well, it was no wonder he was dispatched to help her with evacuating children. He wouldn't be able to resist... And might be able to lend some fatherly experience to calming them down if need be. On the Final Dragon, Josh was busy preparing his weaponry and equipment, his tone serious compared to his usually jovial and joking demeanor. He would protect these children as if they were his own, he knew. It was just in his nature. And Valae was a friend... Ensuring she kept safe was important as well.

When her voice rang out through the communicator, he nodded his head as he would move to send a reply. "This is Master DragonsFlame, I'll be on the planet shortly" He spoke then, a quick and to the point message, but it got the point through. He wanted to be sure they got in and out quickly... But with no child left behind.

He could admit perhaps he was even willing to kill who might try to stop them to ensure it. As if they were his own, after all...

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

[-SOUNDTRACK-]​

Allies: Galactic Alliance (sort of)​

Enemies: The Sith Empire​

Objectives: Acquire Holocrons | Convert Jedi to the Darkside​

Gear: Wither (Sith Sword) | The Triad (Lightsabers) | Shrouded Blade (Lightsaber) | Obsidian Strike Armor​

Troops: 5 Undead​

Attn: [member="[/SIZE][SIZE=12px]Xevek Rakama"] | [member="Vanessa Vantai"] | [member="Darth Sabezt"] | [member="Adrian Vandiir"] Allies: [member="Allyson Locke"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Jairdain"] | [member="Mereel Vaun"]​

​

• Archives
  Jedi Temple on Coruscant

A horror approached. Oppressive and powerful, it promised death as it slowly drifted forward, the malevolent presence of the Darkside shifting and flowing towards the beast-man that summoned it. It shimmered all around him, gently caressing his senses like a lover's touch. The cat-like eyes of a predator stared at those assembled as he stepped towards them, a taloned hand digging deep, angry furrows into the wall by his side, adding one more wound to the many that had been inflicted to this failing bastion of the Lightside. The shadows moved behind the horror, even as his cloak rippled with an unseen wind. As the soldiers that were unloading from the shuttle finally spotted him, the Sith Lord grinned.

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A battered, burning shuttle tore itself from a section of the Temple near the main hall, its occupants slaughtered by the beast which now operated its controls telekinetically, dark, invisible tendrils extending from him to work the bloodied vessel's systems. Its movements were jerky and forced, like a wounded bird's and it rose and dipped as it struggled to maintain its altitude.

Pulling the flight stick until the small shuttle faced in the direction he wanted it to go, the Sith Lord extended another tendril of the Force, slamming the acceleration forward to maximum, forcing the little ship to give everything it had left to give as it went about its final journey. Standing behind the chairs of the pilot and co-pilot, who's mutilated cadavers he had not bothered to remove, the Sith Lord grinned. He would soon have that which he sought above all else.

In the back of the shuttle, shambling corpses stumbled about, mindlessly trampling the bodies of the Sith soldiers which they had encountered inside. Tacitus did not care one bit for these particular Sith. He found their grand plan to eclipse the light shortsighted and lacking in ambition. He had set his targets on a much bigger goal.

Sputtering flames and smoke, which trailed like spilled blood behind it, the battered shuttle crashed into the Archives, violently impaling itself within the Temple's ancient walls. From the smoke and flaming rubble, a few remaining minions shambled out, two of them on fire, their Galactic Alliance uniforms blackening under the kiss of the flame as quickly as their dead, unfeeling skin.

Behind them, their master carved himself a path through the bulkhead of the now-dead shuttle, the midnight-blade of his oldest lightsaber eviscerating the vessel like a giant, bloated animal. Replacing the lightsaber back in its place on his belt, the Sith Lord stepped forward, a clawed hand drifting over the shuttle's hull, the metal screeching in pain and protest as the author of all this destruction stepped forward to greet those already assembled for battle within these ancient, hallowed chambers of Jedi knowledge.

His cat-like, golden eyes took in the sights, a look of evident disgust on his face at the Jedi assembled within, some of which he recognized. It was look which passed quickly as the Overlord's eyes found other things to see. Those wretched worms that huddled around the dieing embers of their precious Lightside, were far beneath his notice. He would give them the opportunity to live and find true purpose, after he dealt with the other guests.

"Well, well," the Overlord spoke as he drew his longsword, horror pouring out from it like pus from a gangrenous wound. His Triad lightsabers unclipped themselves from his belt, floating forward under the Sith Lord's silent command. One by one, they ignited, adding three more crimson blades to the ones already illuminating the hallway around him, even as the currents of the Darkside flowed to him, gathering like a dark, oppressive cloud that threatened to erupt with the violence of a volcano. "You imperial Sith disgust me," he spat out. "Life in your cozy palaces has made you soft and weak. Well, today you find yourself in the unfortunate situation of standing in my way. I will teach you a final, painful lesson before you die."

​

 

[Mereel Vaun]

Location: Jedi Temple Archive Room
Equipment: Armor (in sig), blaster pistol (also in sig), one of Feanor's sabers
NPC Squad Comp: 1 Wild-Dog Grenadier, 1 Rifleman, 1 Coyote Sniper, 1 werewolf gunner, 1 Slicer
Allies: Alexandra Feanor Jairdain | GA and co.
Enemies: Tathra Khaeus | Sith and Dark Jedi in the archives
Objective: Survive
--

Once he saw his foe, his stomach sank. What he saw in front of him was a thousand times worse than the Sith phantoms he had faced on Takodana. His opponent looked like the embodiment of evil. Mereel had to force his legs to hold their ground as his eyes sized his opponent up. This demon easily had an additional two feet on him, and it was one of the few times in his life that Mereel didn't feel physically up to par with his foe in the strength department. The beast's physical size and his presence in the force shocked him.

Four years on tours of duty, ten years of being a degenerate or a terrorist. If I don't get through this, no ones going to put the scum that only I know on the fringes in their place.

He cleared his mind and slowed his breathing for a moment as the monster lumbered toward him. A change in something in the force nearby snapped Mereel back to reality, and it wasn't a mind meld or battle meditation. The squad is under attack, fierfek. I am seriously never signing up for another one of these field trips again.

Mereel dialed his helmet audio transmitter back to normal volume, "This isn't my home. But I'd much rather die here than that kriffing place anyway."

In his right hand, the silver blade of Feanor's saber sprang to life, angled toward the ground. Alright, here we go. Hopefully this buys me a few seconds.

He hastily raised his left arm and aimed it at nearest the part of the monster's mass he could aim at - his torso, which wasn't exactly difficult to do considering how huge the target was. He fired his single-use wrist rocket toward the monster and simultaneously activated his jetpack, flying backwards away from his opponent. With his jetpack he sailed along several archive databanks towards where he felt pain coming from his squad-mates in the force until his eyes saw the source of the pain. A large armored being wielding a vibro-bisento was standing over a prone and bloodied rifleman.

Osik, how did I not sense more of them? I can't keep being careless, I have to assume there's more of them in here. If that ax brute is any indication, all of these men could be in serious trouble if they stay here. Kriff, where's the demoman?

As if on queue, a smoke grenade landed behind the bisento-wielding being as Mereel cut his jetpack, placing himself beside the incapacitated rifleman. Mereel switched to thermal HUD viewing mode and sent a wall of force energy cascading toward the bogie. "Demo, give me every single smoke grenade you have on the field now. Start dragging your squadmate anywhere but here, I'll cover you."

Mereel amplified his voice with helmet and shout, "Gunner, sniper! If you can hear me, don't hold any ground if it means your life. Same for you techie!"

 

[Allyson Locke]

Location: Temple (Alternate Route) -> Archives
Allies: GA & SJO
Group: [member="Jyoti Nooran"] [member="Asaraa Vaashe"]
Enemies: Sith
Potential Targets: [member="Tathra Khaeus"]
Song: By the Hand of the Mortal


Something in the back of her mind tingled and soon made her shudder. It felt as if a cold finger had run down her spine. Shaking her head, Allyson wondered what it could be and she did her best to hide the dreading feeling that deep down she knew what it was, more so who it was. Allyson did her best to get rid of that feeling and focus on what she was doing. Looking at the small map she had tapped into the security system that was rigged throughout the entire temple. Fingers danced across the tablet quickly as she was pondered in the back of her head she should probably pick up some sort of cybernetics for this stuff.

Camera angles flashed showing the Corellian the mess the temple had become along with how many were making their way towards the archives. “Tch, seems like we’re going to run into some friends.” Shrugging and continuing to move through the data that was being displayed. “Not the good kind.” Allyson did her best to try and find an alternate route, the last thing the group needed was to find hostiles to slow them down. Humming softly to herself she continued to work as fast as she could and then on everyone’s HUD they would see a small dotted line show a route.

“This is our route, we should be able to use this hidden escape route to head into the archives from the rear.” The woman snorted as she made the comment, then coughed to try and cover up her immaturity. Allyson shoved the tablet into her pack and fed the feed to the mounted HUD on the armor. She moved down into the hallway of the side gate opening. Her hand trailed along the wall looking for the invisible switch. The escape route was made just in case for situations such as this. Looking at the HUD and the map she paused and found it.

The door would open only with the right security code, it seemed no one had triggered it. Things like this would be done by the head of the Temple. The thought concerned Allyson as she focused and over road the measures necessary. The wall slid open revealing a dark pathway. Looking towards Jyoti, “This is our route, shouldn’t be long till we make it through to the archives.” Waving everyone in, Allyson waited till everyone was through and she quickly closed the door behind them.

As they made their way, Allyson would begin to close the doorways locking those that were making their way towards the archives. It would begin to prove difficult to move through the temple especially the route to the archives.

Spoiler

Other Tags (sorry if I missed someone): [member="Mereel Vaun"] [member="Alexandra Feanor"] [member="Jairdain"] [member="Vanessa Vantai"] [member="Tsisaar Taral"] [member="Darth Imperia"] [member="Vili Ozouf"] [member="Darth Sabezt"] [member="Adrian Vandiir"] [member="Romi Jade"]

 

[Koda Fett]

​

As the Mandalorian ceased the utilisation of his jetpack, he dropped rapidly. The weight of the man alone was heavy enough, but the added kilograms that came with his infamous Mandalorian Armour forced him to sink at an accelerated pace. His T-Visor didn't focus on what was above the platform, somewhat concluding that whatever was there simply wasn't any longer. Unfortunately, he was too sure of himself. His left arm fired a whipcord that ensnared itself on a support from the platform itself, feeling the impact of it on his arm as well as the crashing tackle of Traske as he leapt onto the Bounty Hunter. A mistake, truly.

The two were right up alongside each other, and not in the way it worked in the bedroom. The back of Fett's neck was used as support, and a flurry of fists collided with his shell: a seemingly impenetrable set of armour. The punches had little to no affect, and neither did the punches that collided with his flight suit, for the power-armour liner protected all kinetic force that struck it, dispersing and protecting. It wouldn't be pleasurable to punch, be sure of that. Perhaps that knife, however, could of done some damage if thrust forwards hard enough, yet the Bounty Hunter always had something to say before a sharp object poked around his interior.

Fett immediately cut the chord, dropped the duo into a free-fall. The punches were taps across his armour, slight annoyances that forced instinctive flinches but nothing more than that. His hands rushed for the arms of Traske, relinquishing his grip upon his Carbine as it dropped to his chest, hanging in it's sling - the left hand high, and the right hand low - grasping at them both with his enhanced strength due to the Mandalorian Crushgaunts. He squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed. It was a tool capable of crushing metal, bone, and straight through a windpipe with ease. It was safe to say that Minorous was in a tight spot after placing himself dangerously close to the Mandalorian. Fett attempted to angle his right forearm so it pointed into the abdomen of Traske, unleashing a barrage of bolts from his DUR-24 Wrist Blaser if successful. It was likely to occur, considering the enhanced strength in addition with the natural brute force.

Even still, the Bounty Hunter wasn't willing to let them crash into the ground and die. His jetpack kicked in, flames violently projecting out of the twin exhausts which slowed their descent before causing them to soar sporadically due to the shuffling that was made within the air. It was possible for them to crash, or it maybe come to a landing. Perhaps Traske was to lose his grip. Koda didn't know.

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Allies: The Sith Empire

Enemies: [member="Minorous Traske"]