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Skirmish Campaign Episode 1 A New Menace [NJO v Sith Keepers]

Siqsa Kun

Overlord's Shadow Hand
Character

STORY BACKGROUND: Following the discovery of the Sith Holocron of the ancient Dark Lord of the Sith Naga Sadow on Foerost, the New Jedi Order had concluded that its powers were too great to be held in the vault deep within the Coruscant Temple. A Jedi Taskforce of NJO Shadows and Jedi Knights was assembled to help ferry the holocron, stored within a special container, aboard a Cargo Ferry, to a nearby space port. They believed that the holocron could be better studied if it was taken to Tython where Jedi Scholars could wield the ambient Light Side to shield themselves and dissect the holocron. However, darker forces have taken notice. Hidden in Coruscant’s underworld for sometime is the Sith Assassin, Siqsa Kun, the very shadow of the absconded lord of a new Sith Order - the Qotsisajakaar - Keepers of the Sith Code. Leading a shadowed strike team, she prepares a trap to snatch the holocron in mid-transit, right in the middle of Coruscant’s busy flying traffic.

The Coruscant spires crowded the skyline, blotting out the sun and casting long drenching shadows that obscured the descending arcology of the ecumenopolis in homogenous slabs of urban sprawl. Perched on an open roof top of one of these shadowed towers was Siqsa Kun, surveying the cluttered floating traffic of the resplendent coreworld speed by in crowded vectors of light, noise, and vibrating echoing hums of repulsorlift engines. She herself was sitting reclined on the black cushioned seat of her hulking speeder bike. Her back was fully pressed against the ribbed padding of the seat’s back panel with one leg mounted on the front control deck while the other slung off to the side.

Her arms were crossed over her armored chest and her head was dropping down, covered by the hood that was built into the collar of her dark combat battle suit. Rested in her lap was the face plate to the black and chrome helmet she was wearing. Her freed face drew in long breathes of the Coruscant crisp and polluted airs, feeding her breathed meditations. Behind the closed lids of her eyes, Siqsa drew upon the Force. Drew upon the Dark Side. But, did so in small, tempered, and slivering samples. Using the ambient noise of the all the compiled and layered life on Coruscant, Siqsa hid her own among them. Using a technique that buried her presence, her signature in the Force, much like a ship’s with its scrambler on, became scattered and camouflaged with the constant chorus of echoes in the Force produced by Coruscant citizens.​

Though her mind and aura in the Force were concealed, her appearance was less so. Normally, Siqsa would have donned her Ubese Gunslinger’s disguise, as she had been doing so for the months she had been infiltrating the Coruscant Underworld. But, there was a certain psychological element needed for this mission that required her visage as a Sith Assassin. This was the Sith Keepers first strike against the New Jedi Order, a threat which would no doubt fill the vacuum of power once the Sith Empire had completed its wailing death throes. Knowledge, preparation, and resources would need to be assembled to combat the future foe. Knowledge that the recovered Holocron of Naga Sadow would supply. Knowledge that was her own heritage, the heritage of her ancestors. Pillaged by many for centuries.​

A bubbling beeping alarm drew Siqsa out of her brooding stew of cold fury and malice. Siqsa opened her eyes, golden binary stars set in crimson skin looked out to a probe droid flying down to her. It's wobbling repulsors greeted her along with a series of beeps and clicks. Its singular large eye blinking a series of reports that fly from its recording devices down into a forearm mounted holoprojector device. Siqsa untangled her arms and pressed the small button nubs that stuck out from the rim of the holoprojector’s lens.

The commands summoned an urban traffic map of the Coruscant’s Galactic City district. A red blinking dot was recorded moving down its sky traffic lanes. Siqsa’s eyes traced the dots movements and plotted its potential courses. The dot would round her location soon. The Sith Pureblood tapped some more commands and sent the data to the others who lingered beneath the shadows of Coruscant’s towers. The dot, was a low flying Cargo Ferry, with what seemed to be smaller police speeder escorts providing cleared pathways through the traffic jams. That was their target. The Jedi were directing it to a spaceport by Sub-District 298. She would not let them arrive.​

Siqsa tapped some more commands into her device. The data streamed to the others who were hiding nearby ( Vella Forte Vella Forte Vora Kaar Vora Kaar Lyra Voi'kryt Lyra Voi'kryt ). They would converge on the Ferry at different times, from different angles of attack. Siqsa dismissed the probe droid, waving it away. It complied and flew off back to where its docking port was kept on the rooftop. Plucking the face plate she snapped it back into its sockets along the edges of her front facing helmet panelling. She reached over and grabbed the handles of her speeder and with her descending foot stomped on the ignition lever. The speeder roared into life and levitated in place. Siqsa pressed the controls forward and the speeder burst from the rooftop and dived into Coruscant traffic, merging into its dizzying vehicles.​

Just as she had calculated, the Cargo Ferry flew overhead. Siqsa watched it pass overhead and let it drift by her for some distance. Then she changed several lanes and began to mirror the Ferry, slowly drawing nearer and nearer, waiting for the right opportunity to assault its escorts then the Ferry directly.​


SITH KEEPER TAGS: Vella Forte Vella Forte Vora Kaar Vora Kaar Lyra Voi'kryt Lyra Voi'kryt
NJO TAGS: Auteme Auteme Maynard Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Ryv Ryv Oceiros Sunstrider Oceiros Sunstrider
 
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Bladeborn
Character
// Coruscant // Intercepting Target: Escort
Wreak Havoc

The comm unit on her vambrace thrummed with an update, and she angled it toward her review the message. A progress report from the pureblood.

Three minutes and thirty seconds she suspected, based on the trajectory of the red dot. And the nearness of Siqsa to that dot. The escorts would be taken out first, then the ferry itself.

Five meter high screens rotated through advertisements for machine rigs on one screen, high fashion the next, a smiling face of a politician the next, and discount code for noodles somewhere in Xiao Town. A newsfeed scrawled and gave updates on the conflicts going around the galaxy, how the Imperials were faring, and propaganda of the latest exploits on Velusia.Their clamor only a single thread over the constant din of voices, merchant carts, and machinery.

The former Inquisitor was concealed in stretches of shadows from the tall buildings, standard for someone who was supposed to be unseen. A stark contrast to the citizens of Coruscant who boasted their presence with each step they took. It was similar to some of those that had strut the streets of Bastion. The world, beyond this city, they suspected belonged to them. If her face hadn’t been hidden, there’d be a recognizable modicum of disgust in her expression.

Beyond obscuring any trace of herself in the Force, she’d taken other precautions to be less visible until the trap was sprung. Her suit’s plating had been scoured until nothing was smooth enough to cast a reflection, and her heads-up display was dimmed almost to the point of invisibility. The voices in her ears –– murmurs from the team when they chose to deliver an update –– were so reduced it was almost passive.

The sound of the speeder’s engines was the only thing that would perhaps draw attention. With a backward kick of her heel, the bike accelerated and she leaned into the handlebars. Opening the throttle, she leaned heavily to the right to intercept in a T the line of their targets before pulling up, inclining steeply above the final escort.

From a compartment somewhere on her sleeve, a small disc emerged to her palm and she dropped it. The scrambler becoming airborne for only a moment before it latched onto the roof of the escort behind the ferry. Her premiere target. The scrambler activated, jamming the comms of the vessel. The drivers probably wouldn’t notice for another twenty-five seconds when they would miss an update to take a left turn up ahead.

Simultaneously to the scrambler meeting its target, she reduced the angle of her thrusters and pulled her speeder so close to the escorts that they almost scraped against one another, but her control kept her comfortably beside the driver window. The passenger was the first to notice her, glancing between the dashboard and a quick double-take to their right where she was just above eye level. Her speeder’s handle went first, ramming into the window of the passenger seat enough to give it a crack. The screeching sound was horrendous and wrenched the bike into a wobble she had to justify before gesturing to the person inside as if about to apologize. The person inside was trained enough not to roll the window down to talk to a masked interloper.

She'd tried. Adjusting the course of action, she shifted her weight to jam her heels into the middle of the window. The shower of glass into the lap of the passenger was enough of a distraction for her to leap from the speeder, discarding it in the wake of traffic, and into the cabin of the vehicle.

From there, it was mostly wrist-wrenching, bone snapping, and temple knocking to render the passengers inside unconscious and she took the wheel, using her hip to knock the limp driver to the side. He crumpled into the lap of his partner, who was leaning pathetically against the frame of the vehicle -- the wind from the traffic outside rushing against his lifeless face. No flashes of lightsabers just yet.

<Final escort’s got a new driver. Who’s up next?>

 
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Darth Sybila
Writer


// Renegade Commander //
//
Coruscant, Galactic City District
// Feet Don't Fail Me




“Sybila..,” her master’s form flickered from the holo projector, the cerulean light casting odd angles across the steel walls. He was shrouded but the woman knew the grating voice of Darth Avernus Darth Avernus all too well. “An auspicious opportunity has arisen, and I have a task for you. It will lead to the next steps of your training, I have asked very little of you and now is your time to prove yourself my apprentice.”

It had been the pinnacle Sybila surmised, when the transmission had ended-when she had decided. When she had ceased to consider all others and their influence upon her. Something far more deep rooted spurred her decision, her anger namely-her desire for ramifications that cemented every step forward. The climb would matter very little, the acts of violence that would be needed; Sybila was ready now. Her eyes were set upon her own ambitions, some things were simply too difficult to mend, to bend to, so she refused. No, now she had no qualms acting outside the sphere of influence of the Imperial dogma; to see this absolution through. For better or for worse.

The street vendor’s grill sizzled, spitting and hissing as more questionable meat was tossed out across the burning surface. The local station blared some music off the cart, though it sounded more like static. The dingy street corner had chosen had amassed a small collection of vehicles and civilians that flocked to the source for a midday bite. Tucked in the shadow of the behemoth towers that made up the upper crust of the city world, the metallic gleamed brilliantly where the sun did touch. Down here though, there was too much grunge. The roar of engines from traffic passed well over head, the mechanical noises reverberated up the street-the flicker of the shadows passing from the air lanes. It reminded her of Bescane-the air was rancid from fuel and the garbage left in the streets. Sybila had planted herself among the handful of bikes and shuttles on the sidewalk for the stake, lounging against her rusty speeder with a burger in hand.

There was a holonews reel projected off the street hub and Sybila leaned back to catch a glimpse at the local weather report that circulated on the screen. She had expected something far more sinister than an asset retrieval tucked among the sprawling urban center. Smacking her lips as she swallowed the last bite of the griller, she plucked the drink up-slurping it loudly. There had been radio silence from the strike force but the woman preferred it that way. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stilled, regarding her drink. She gave it one shake stirring up the ice before she sighed; lobbing the empty container at the trash compactor. It had been an improvement to the ration cuts and hit the spot, a distraction really and one that she used to masquerade under; just in the blind spot of the cameras anchored on the street corner too. Each breath and movement slow, steady as she concentrated upon a quiet mind. Her patience strained as she buried her presence in the Force among the humdrum of bodies.

Shrouded under the heavy hood of the overcoat, the noise of the city was loud in her ears-her helmet hung precariously off the handle of the bike. Her rifle tucked under the long trail of the red coat, strapped on to her hip. Old habits died hard and she scoffed bitterly at the thought, the thought of a smoke now tempted her but she had thrown the last cheap ciggara out months ago. Sybila distracted herself, mopping up the grease on her gloves meticulous; she was in a sour mood now. With out a second thought, she tossed the paper aside carelessly with the other rubbish that piled up on the black top.

Sybila reflected upon the gauntlets, and her armor-surface of her suit had been scrubbed, reconstructed from any affiliation to the New Order. As far as she was concerned..she looked like another non-descript merc trash on the street. Muttering under her breath, Sybila reached over the dash of the bike as the channel flickered. The communicator blinked in her peripheral.
Time to go to work, she snagged her helmet with a heavy hand before she slipped it on; adjusting the coat hood back on. She was a renegade at best now.

The seal hissed, the screen dimmed just before the A.I began registering the information. Tilting her head up as the digital map followed the point of interest. Before her eyes a red outline flickered over the local air traffic on the HUD. The Jedi team..if they had even sent professionals course plotted out. Sybila glanced over her shoulder into the traffic lanes, the ferry was highlighted on the screen-a series of warnings flickered as the police escort cruisers flashed their lights, forced to put along the lines of the vehicles caught in the mid day rush.

The woman swung one leg over the speeder as the binoculars readjusted out. Sybila brushed out her coat as she cranked the bike engine on-merging into the traffic ahead of the convoy. The transport rocked as she veered left into the lanes, there was roughly a block between her and the lead escort and her thumb feathered the throttle. Sybila drove the bike through the gaps of the lanes, horns blaring as she cut through the lanes. Just another asshole driving recklessly. Lost in the sea of chrome and repulsors, she creeped along. The hum of the engines mute over the audio. Sybila positioned herself at the head of the column.

A timer flashed at the corner of her HUD and she began to count the seconds under her breath. The close quarters..the fall out of the trigger line-Sybila reached down checking the pull line that fed into the packed cargo box. She tried not to linger on the civilian fall out, the risks-it wasn't her concern. Far too disciplined to glance back a second time, to risk drawing that much attention to herself. Sybila grimaced beneath her shroud as she slowed the bike, close to stalling. On the map the crimson tracker closed in on her rear and her eyes watched it, inhaling deeply as she prepared herself. She had to trust the others would uphold the mission, but Sybila wasn't going to put that much stock in the strangers. She knew better. Her servo tightened on the wire, her other hand steering the speeder. She could hear the blare of the siren that drew closure behind her. The shuttles along her lane and air speeders slowly drifted aside to make room, mindful of the law-but not her.

<<”Time for the fire works,”>> Sybila uttered over the link, tensing as she made her move.

Keepers: Siqsa Kun Siqsa Kun Vella Forte Vella Forte Vora Kaar Vora Kaar
NJO: Maynard Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Auteme Auteme Oceiros Sunstrider Oceiros Sunstrider Ryv Ryv
 
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Seeker. Watcher.
Character
Allies: Maynard Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Auteme Auteme Oceiros Sunstrider Oceiros Sunstrider Ryv Ryv
Enemies: Siqsa Kun Siqsa Kun Vella Forte Vella Forte Vora Kaar Vora Kaar Lyra Voi'kryt Lyra Voi'kryt

In her years as a Jedi Shadow, a hunter of rare and esoteric artifacts of the Force, Oren had never thought something as ancient as the holocron of Naga Sadow would fall into the possession of the Jedi Order. While not nearly as powerful as some of the other artifacts she'd brought to the Jedi at face value it was still incredibly dangerous. A dark temptation for those of her order and a lure to those that followed the Sith teachings. In her studies as a Knight she had come across the name of Sadow several times, though with time came the diluted impact of his legends and histories. Now as a Master she understood that even knowledge aside, simply having the holocron would bring the Sith more strength. Strength in moral, and unafraid of the dangers within, the knowledge that could bring destruction to countless innocent beings.

On this cool clear morning typical to southern Coruscant Oren sat in the Alliance Cargo ferry alongside a few other Jedi. Arms folded across her chest and hood drown up she was in deep meditation, her focus on the kyberite prison that held the mysterious holocron. It seemed to seethe with ill intent, the glowing red of its power source pulsing ominously beneath its metal plates.

"Your secrets will never see the light of day again Sadow," she mumbled before raising her head.

"We may have trouble," came the troubled voice of the driver. "We've picked up a couple of tails and the rear escort's been acting a little eratic. Can't reach anyone on coms either." Oren stretched her senses out in the Force, reaching for any sign of the Dark Side. She found only whispers, fewer even than normal in this densely packed city. The ferry didn't have any viewports in the back so she couldn't rely on her eyes but the Force was giving her nothing. She reached out again, this time looking for any sort of disturbances. In her mind's eye the traffic around them became nothing more than faint lights of the Force, individuals going about their days but when she looked to where about the escorts should be she found that indeed something had happened to the rear escort.

Her brow furrowed in concentration. There was something familiar lingering in the Force. Something to do with Lannik...She dug deeper and deeper still, sweat accumulating on her upper lip as she concentrated. A single name came to her lips like a cold whisper.

"Voyance..." She looked to the other Jedi in the cargo skiff and winced. "I sense a disturbance in the Force. But like our pilot said, communications are down. We won't be able to call the Order or the Alliance for help. Its just us."
 
La Vie En Rose
Character


And there she was, hoping that the trip would be uneventful and she'd be able to get some reading done. Yes, yes, the journey was more important than the destination, but sitting a room over from the holocron of one of the most powerful Dark Lords of the Sith was bound to be at least a little unpleasant. She'd hope to stave it off with a little light reading -- The Complete Histories of the Old Republic, 800th Anniversary Edition, with a foreword from Chancellor Valorum. It was a very good book. Unfortunately she was still waiting on data for her paper about the Galactic Alliance's illiteracy rates, otherwise she would've been working on that.

Anyways. The danger thing.

"What do you think it is?" She glanced at the other Jedi. As usual, she was the least experienced person in the room when it came to combat and field work. Well, maybe Oceiros was newer than she was? He'd really only come to the Jedi after the battle on Brentaal IV. Still, the guy was built like a brick outhouse and Auteme did not doubt he knew how to use all those muscles. Master Oren was, well, a master, and while Auteme didn't know the woman well she knew that they didn't hand out the rank of Master to just anyone. Ryv and Maynard were reliable. She hoped she could just sit this one out; they had enough people to defend and stuff.

"Well, um, if we're being attacked or something, I'll just... uh... protect the Holocron!" That sounded much better than hide in the storage room. "If they're after that. Which they probably are. I mean, skylane robberies are exceedingly rare and I'm sure that the guards could handle it all."

It occurred to her that this was the reason why so many Jedi had been assigned to protect the holocron on its trip to Tython. She'd thought it was overkill, but what if they really were in danger? What if the Sith were after them? All the more reason for her to lock herself in the back room and not come out. Maybe if she hid the holocron in her bag and told them they had the wrong ship they'd leave her alone.

Auteme unbuckled herself and headed over to the cargo access. "Hey, could you open the door, then lock me inside?"

The driver obliged. "Thanks!"

With that she slipped inside, and just before the door closed she gave a thumbs up to the others. "Good luck!"
 

Siqsa Kun

Overlord's Shadow Hand
Character
[MUSIC]​
Siqsa was several lanes below the Cargo Ferry and their escorts when the dark sisters who had accompanied her attacked. She watched them assault the rear escort craft and the other hop across lanes to terminate one of the escorts at the front. Siqsa looked back down and pressed her hands on the handles of her own speeder, launching it into a sharp acceleration. She turned right and up, merging into the lanes of traffic above her. Ascending higher, she was now directly below a duo of escort speeders to starboard of the Ferry. They had spotted the attack and were preparing to turn about. Siqsa wouldn’t allow them to interfere.​
Throwing out a hand, the air vibrated between it and herself as the Force clawed her saber from her belt. Detaching from a looped ring on her black waist bodice it twirled into her hand. As it landed into her palm, her fingers snapped around it and activated its crystal. A red blade spat out. Giving the blade's emergence little time, Siqsa flung the blade like a spear. The Force guiding it, she commanded the saber to dive plasmatic tip first into the underbelly of the speeder right below her. It burned, melted and scorched it’s way through the under-plating of the speeder bike, out the seat, and through the rider before exiting his head.​
The rider became limp and collapsed over the handles. The slumped weight of his corpse made the controls slant sending himself and the speeder bike veering into the lane beside it. They collided with a small shuttle, splattering into limbs and then a ball of fire when the wreckage of the bike exploded. Siqsa erupted from below, taking over the spot the downed escort officer was. She gave no time for the escort in front of her to adjust. With her other hand still on the controls she squashed a side button on the handle that unleashed a laser cannon barrage, destroying the escort in front in a brilliant ball of flames.​
Siqsa engaged the acceleration pedals once more and sped towards the nose of the Ferry. As she reached a parallel cruising sped with the viewport of the pilot’s room tucked on the very top of the Ferry’s long prow snout, she released her hand from the controls. Tapping some commands into her wrist device, her speeder bike suddenly accelerated ahead of the Ferry. Siqsa stood up and releasing the Dark Side from its dampened state, summoning a swelling convergence of its power to her legs. She bent her knees and leapt backwards in an arching back flip. Tucking herself, the Force propelling her body like a missile, she twisted herself so she landed on the pilot’s viewing port facing inside.​
Cutting down the pilots in sweeping slashes as she landed, she spun abruptly and searched the control panels for inputs on auto pilot. She changed the Ferry's destination location to a district far away from the Federal City, towards the Works.​
“Kill the rest,” Siqsa hissed through her helmets comms and into an encrypted channel to her other Sith assailants.​
“Then find a way in.”

 
Maverick
Character
Coruscant,
En route to The Works
Cargo Skiff

TAGS:
Oren Oren Auteme Auteme Oceiros Sunstrider Oceiros Sunstrider Maynard Treicolt Maynard Treicolt
Vella Forte Vella Forte Lyra Voi'kryt Lyra Voi'kryt Vora Kaar Vora Kaar Siqsa Kun Siqsa Kun

Kir paced frantically inside the compartment that he'd been stationed in. Knowing his tendency to rush in, his master had positioned him in the cabin with one of the elder Knights, Master Oren. Even her wise words hadn't been enough to satiate his unease with the situation. On his countless missions, he'd taken away that assignments that were perceived to be easy, rarely went without some sort of hitch. The Padawan seemed restless and little out of it, as if something was pestering him. "I don't know Auteme, but whatever it is, I don't like it, we're sitting ducks here, no one will be able to support us if things go wrong."

Taking a deep breath, the brown haired Padawan knelt down, taking from the example of Master Oren, who seemed to be taking this better than the rest. He was in safe hands wasn't he? Both his own teacher and other experienced Jedi were here, such as Oceiros Sunstrider. Still the anticipation of something coming grew in him. Allowing the Force to act through him and flow in him, right down to his midichlorians, a frigid wave of some sort hit him, often an indicator that something was out of place. Lately, he'd been working on his precognitive abilities and they'd served him rather well for the most part, allowing him quicker reaction times, but this was different, it was a warning signal, alerting him and his Jedi friends that all was not well.

"Something isn't right, I can feel it in the Force." He promptly rose out of his meditative position to see Auteme heading for the door to the holocron room. Raising and eyebrow, he observed her enter the backroom and request to be locked in, a quizzical expression painted on his face. Though, he couldn't blame her, he'd known that this would be high risk with the amount of Jedi assigned.

"Auteme, where are you going!" Kir exclaimed after her, still rather puzzled as to how she'd come to the conclusion that she'd be safer right next to the object that was at the most risk here. He scoffed, a little snicker of laughter leaving his lips as he turned to the other Jedi in the tight compartment.

"Master Oren, I say that we go check it out, since communications are down, the pilot wouldn't have any way to signal to us if he is in any danger." He looked to the older Jedi for guidance and for permission to try and find out whatever it was he'd been feeling.

It was slightly demoralising to watch one of the Masters in the room wince, she felt it too. He drew his cylindrical lightsaber hilt from his utility belt, hoping that he wouldn't need to use it and it was all a false alarm. Kir been aware that this holocron would be prized by many people but he what he hadn't anticipated was just who would come for it, and that disturbance in the Force had clear meaning to him. It was obvious that the ancient enemies of the Jedi would be the main contenders for the artefact, and he knew from personal experience what lengths they would go to get what they wanted.
 
Darth Sybila
Writer




// Renegade Commander //
// Coruscant, Galactic City District, Air-Lanes
//
Oh No



The engine made a shrill cry as Sybila threw her weight into the break, the momentum caused her to all but slam into the drive bars. There were plenty of eyes that looked on as an insistent flash of the sirens warned her of the escort and their impatience, she was blocking the lane. The clock was ticking now and Sybila twisted the handle bars, her weight shifted further forward as she ripped the speeder bike back to turn on the escort. Her thumb brushing the throttle, she revved the bike loudly, the repulsors glowed hot. With one heavy exhale, Sybila propelled the bike over the top of the lead policer. The metal scraped across and her body jerked upon impact with the hood the air speeder, an ugly metallic noise dampened by the audio receptors.

Behind the glass she could see the panic etched across the officer’s face. With the wire in hand, Sybila brought her knees to her chest. The Force gathered around her, the tension sung in her bones. She sprung from the bike, the kick back sending the speeder through the cab of the escort; the glass shattering. The two men were crushed as the escort warbled out of control, she felt the brief snap of life fade and grimaced. In a matter of seconds, the wire was taunt as she careened through the air. Below the floating traffic line descended into chaos. With the Ferry in her sights as she yanked the wire, a single click vibrated through the line and the vehicle was engulfed by explosives. The shudder through the air rolled over her armor as a pillar of flames and smoke erupted high. Metal debris flew across the lanes, the remains of the escort slamming in the Ferry’s front as pieces began to fall to the city far below.

A dark blur in the air, Sybila flailed as she gauged the fall to the transport. The viewport of the Ferry sputtered with smoke as the others had descended upon the convoy. Drawing upon the rush of energy, she shielded herself with one arm. Her shadow grew across the top of the Ferry and her shoulder hit metal first with a heavy thud, the impact gel expanding though her weapons dug the gaps of her armor painfully. Sybila forced her body to roll out, armor pinching and biting and she caught herself with her servo. The digits scraped and dug into the metal, peeling shreds of the transport's plating back as her body jerked to a halt.

Though the comms had buzzed with orders, a lot of it was white noise and Sybila caught her bearings. The screen flashed as it highlighted their movements, life signs erupting in red across the screen as it augmented the field and she planted one knee down. A cold sweat collected on her neck and Sybila's mouth ran dry, she wondered if she’d see Friendly Blue down there. The jedi..She could improvise-With a snarl, Sybila forced her resolve. It was detached and cold and her gauntlets brushed over the straps crossing her chest. She ripped the silver cylinders from their clasps, crimson and green sabers igniting before with a switch in hand. Sybila thrusted the blades into the Ferry’s rooftop with on swift movement. This mission was only a bridge for herself, revenge-she couldn't concern herself with the fallout. The metal hissed and melted slowly-the electrical components sparking and flickered as she drove them deep as she carved her way in.

NJO: Oren Oren Auteme Auteme Oceiros Sunstrider Oceiros Sunstrider Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt Kir Dantos Kir Dantos
Keepers: Vella Forte Vella Forte Vora Kaar Vora Kaar Siqsa Kun Siqsa Kun
 
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