Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Annihilation Final Eclipse | GA Annihilation of Exegol




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Tag: Escape Jara Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren Velda Nar-Donna Velda Nar-Donna Darth Temerant Darth Temerant Darth Wallgof Darth Wallgof Cybelle Elyance Cybelle Elyance
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"Do you truly believe your brother can handle me? I think he is seems a little unhinged. As if a certain Ralia lingers on the mind. Which one do you care more for Brandyn? Your sister or the friend? I wish to know so I can make you watch as I torture them viciously after your defeat."

"You talk a lot for someone so powerful," Brandyn said, calling over to the Sith. Having sat by the bacta tank for days after Briana's encounter with Wallgof, and having grieved the loss of his friend, Ralia, Brandyn did indeed feel an anger simmering just beneath the surface. That was all it did for now. Just simmer.

Stance pulling back, to raise his blade parallel to his extended arm as he pointed at his foe. Despite a justifiable anger, Brandyn did not indulge beyond the momentary yell to get the attention of Wallgof.

"Why do you care so much, Wallgof?" Brandyn said, tone dry and unemotional. Brandyn tapped not into a sense of serenity, but disconnected focus on the task at hand. He could not worry about Briana...or even Cybelle. Everything needed to fall away and just this moment, this contest alone could be allowed to occupy his mind. "It really is like you are obsessed...it's...a little sad if you ask me."

Above all, Brandyn could not allow Wallgof to get in his head.

"So much anger inside you Brandyn. Did you love Ralia that much? Was she that special to you? Do you dream of that day? Dream of killing me? Letting your anger in and crushing me like an insect?"

A rumble of annoyance was tempered the moment it bubbled. Ralia's name, and his barely budded feelings towards her were inconsequential. She was dead. He was here. Wallgof would be brought to justice.

"You will answer for your crimes, Wallgof. You killed many innocent beings on the day of our first meeting. It is not my place to kill you...but should you resist capture..."

Jaw clenched in defiance to the man that had toyed with his mental state, shown him visions of a possible future that had haunted him and almost destroyed his relationship with Cybelle before it even began.

"...I will do what I must."


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You Will Witness My Destruction!
I AM THE LAST TRUE GOD OF THE MAW!


Post: 7
Location: Abandoned Carnival, Forbidden District Outskirts
Objective: Master of the Universe!
Equipment: x2 Lightsabers | x2 Frag Grenades | Utility Belt | A-180 blaster | Defender (on Nails)
Enemies: Everyone
Allies: No One
Tags: Jand Talo Jand Talo | Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania | Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr | Dominik Borra Dominik Borra


Her words had burned with so much rage she screamed out the mantra of The Brotherhood of the Maw. Her hand grasping at the hair of the whelping Jedi Padawan. She seethed with so much venom as she proclaimed all their deaths, it wasn't a threat it was a promise. Everything she wanted had slipped through her fingers down to her escape from this god forsaken reality. The Maw was gone something she had fought for, for so long and put her life on the line countless times. The Maw something she had felt was an extension of herself and what she believed in. A end to it all to rebuild something different and better an end to the Jedi and Sith endless pissing contest. There was a short moment in time where it all seemed achievable from destroying the sith and pressing into the Jedi stomping grounds of the core worlds. Yet in the end it was the sith corruption and rot that tore the Maw apart from the inside they could not escape the Empires of the past they thought they had erased.

She felt in her bones as Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren faded away, one by one she felt them all fall Tu'teggacha Tu'teggacha and Vesta . Before them she had felt Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis , The Mongrel The Mongrel , and Halketh Halketh all walk into the fade a place she knew she could never go. She was possibly one of the last Mawite leaders left from the ages before the Galaxy begged for mercy from their scourge. Maybe Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood still lived but she could not feel him to be sure but it didn't matter the picture had been painted this was the fall the last stand of Last True God the only one left.

Her eyes peered down for just moment looking into the blue eyes of the poor pathetic Jedi woman. Orange eyed fury prepared to end the nothing jedi's life. She was about to move her red saber in for the kill as she was about to move in she felt that saber hilt but in the same moment as her life was about to end again the wind got knocked from her lungs the saber igniting as she was driven away, back, and tackled into he mud by Jand Talo Jand Talo . She slammed into he ground the saber wound on her back flaring up with pain as she hit the muddy ground slid away from her near death. Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania had been so close to stopping this fight but the glory hunter Jand Talo Jand Talo took her victory away from her. Tegan would not return to the endless cycle once more, yet.

She grimaced and winced wanting to scream but bit down on her tongue drawing blood to hold back the agony. This body was newly formed but it ached just like the old one and even the one before this. There was a time when Tegan could so easily fight through the pain and channel it but now she just felt so damn old with only fleeting moments of her youth. She just wanted to lay there and die but she knew it would only bring her back to this once more another show down her plans falling apart. She felt Jand roll off her and to the side, she could feel the saber in her hand, she had managed to keep ahold of it. Her eyes glanced towards the lightning chain she had sent at Dominik Borra Dominik Borra not sure if it had struck it's target but she couldn't make out soldierin the mess of rain and lightning.

Her ears rang but she could just make out Jand's voice.



"You face me now,"
"And my powers have doubled since we last fought."

As he kicked mud into her face causing Tegan to instinctively turn and then roll out to a hunched position facing him. He didn't delay as he came in whirling with a flurry of strikes Tegan using the force to sense him rolling out of the way of the first strike as she wiped the mud from her face. He didn't let up though coming yet again Tegan batting away the right hand strike with her saber while rolling to her right to avoid the strike from his left saber. Tegan slopping around in the mud on the defensive from the relentless attack. His movement was smooth fluid and quick and his strikes though superior in finesse didn't lack in strength Tegan could feel every strike reverberating through her body causing her shoulders to quiver in bursts of pain.

He came at her again this time she caught and locked his left saber with the red one in her right hand. Then she reached out with her left hand and caught his right saber with her Black painted nails. The Saber crackled and burnt at her finger tips, the smell of burning flesh so close to them both. She pushed up rising to her feet the saber's locked and now their eyes. Her orange sulfuric eyes burning like two fiery suns about to go supernova. Rain running down both there faces blood and paint smeared across Tegan's face as she grimaced fighting against the pain racking her body.

"Spoken like a true sith gloating about your power. You are learning Darth Solgun. You have come to slay your master maybe you will name Darth Priss over there or Darth Armët your apprentices when I am gone." She smirked as she stared him down, hoping now he knew exactly who Darth Solgun was supposed to be. "Then again…." Tegan closed her eyes as she held the sabers at Bay and from her mind she called out to all remaining Maw on Exegol and Darksiders that wanted to lend her aid.

"GRANT ME THE LAST TRUE GOD OF THE MAW YOUR POWER! I WILL BREAK THE JIDAI!"

She called out to them all, to lend her their power and in the same moment she called out to her Bloodline. Her Daughter Cord Starfall Cord Starfall , Her Daughter Khaostra Devoid Khaostra Devoid , Her Husband and Son. Then She called out to Her Father Blade Ice Blade Ice and her Clone Mystra Midnight Mystra Midnight . Then to Her granddaughter Genesis Draykin Genesis Draykin . As she called out and on her blood line they all collapsed to the ground comatose their power draining into Tegan as her eyes opened and she pushed out against Jand's sabers. Last she called out to RHAND the world she was apart of the first world of the Maw, her soul was fused to it, it's power hers ever since the CIS had attempted to take it and she ripped her own soul out of her body to save the world. Salty sweat ran from her face amongst the blood, paint, mud, and rain as she grimaced and gritted her teeth. As the power of those she called on began to run through her veins, and her blood vessels began to turn black and began pumping hard. Black tendrils of darkness could be seen wafting from her small frame make her seem larger then she actually was.

"Never forget The Jedi made all this happen. The Sith, the Lettow before them. Me we are all products of the Jedi's hubris. You are not the Heroes, your just the villains with good PR." She could feel the sky falling a cloud of light coming to try and erase the mistake the Jedi had made a long time ago. The end was near or was it. She pushed hard against his blades as the power flowed through her. "I told you I was a God, I am the Last True God the Avatar of the Maw and all it stood for." As she spoke those words Ten thousand bolts of lightning descended from the sky above striking at the ground where the runes had been laid. The ground quaked across the Planet as the land where the runes were glassed over and solidified in the center of the rune circle a swirling vortex a Portal began to form. The dark energy from Tegan began to flow to it the energies from Rhand itself and even Exegol began to flood it with power. The Light wall in the sky began to even feel it's pull though just minor at the moment but if the vortex was allowed to grow and get stronger from the dark energy it and the light wall would do battle and most likely rip Exegol apart in the process but Tegan did not care. Now they would all see the real power of Tegan no more GAMES.

"AAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaH!" She then let out a violent scream of force into Jand's face to knock him away from her so she could grab her second saber a purple one and ignite it. Though that was currently the last burst of power she would be able to use outside force speed to keep up with Jand so her power and any power lent to her could be used for the portal rift she had created unstable and dark. Exegol's fate was being sealed in that moment purged or ripped apart by the only two force that mattered light and dark.
 
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EXEGOL

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One, two, three. The blue-bladed lightsaber clashed with bleeding crimson swords of the Sith, twisting and twirling in a pivoting stance that shifted between those that confronted the Jedi Knight by the ancient Sith citadel. The rumbling in the Force urged portions of all their minds to lose their focus on the moment, though none more so than the Sith that felt some semblance of fear in what awaited them within the Wall of Light. Rakaan did not reward them with such a fate with as one slash emitted a crying whine from an opened and burned chest, with a riposte that plunged a burning hole into the abdomen of another, and a cleave that tore an arm from the socket in one swipe.

On ground marred by the dark, black soil of the world, Rakaan saw little more in the brightly engulfed fields drowning in the blue of Alliance blaster bolts combated by the red tibanna and lightsabers of the Sith. A thousand war cries matched the dying cries of those that found their light snuffed out ahead their intended time. The end of the Maw seemed as violent as the marauders themselves, with the feelings of their very demise echoing through the Force.

Faint whispers, prideful and dreadful. Vanishing into the Force, succumbing to painfully grievous wounds. The end of it all, crashing and tumbling down. There was no quiet passing, not upon the surface of Exegol.

"Cast it aside," the familiar voice repeated within his very mind. Swirling with smokey wisps of blacks and reds, "the Force will not lie, what will be will be, though it is tainted by some and will mislead us."

The end of it all, repeated Rakaan. The end of it all.
 

Amani could only watch stand and watch as the full extent of Surea's rot broke through the cracked surface. Festering, and ever-growing, even now. She gritted her teeth, and raised a hand, parting the dark wave around her with the Force, "Why?!" As soon as the immediate danger passed, she rushed forward, twisting her pike around into a thrust, aimed right at Surea's gut.

"It's over!" Amani pleaded with whatever inkling of common sense the Sith may have had left, "When all this ends, what do you have to show for it?!" All that evil, for nothing. A dead order. A dead world. Like so many darksiders who came before. For nothing.
 
How much will you endure?

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Location: Exegol
Attani Implant:
Link!
Tag: Capris Halcyon Capris Halcyon Rhemti Totriddiam Rhemti Totriddiam

"You should have stayed in the oceans, tailhead," Nyaeli said once she noticed that Rhemti was drawing the Voxyn's attention to him. The beast was anxious to charge after the Padawan, but even now, Nyaeli's control over its mind kept it from attacking. That restraint was not going to last very long.

"Kill him."

Her words were simple but enough to send the Voxyn into a charge, mouth open to show its teeth, but there was another purpose to it as well. As it roared, a sonic blast was released toward Rhemti — an attempt to knock the Padawan off-balance before its flesh-melting acidic spit was directed at him. Designed to kill Jedi, the Voxyn had many natural weapons at its disposal to harm or kill.

At the same time, Nyaeli watched Capris rush forward and drew up her crimson blade to meet her halfway. A powerful swing was followed by sparks, as lightsabers met for the first time.
"This time, your Master isn't here to save you," she said with a grin of insanity.

"I'm killing you slowly, and my beast will eat what's left of your pretty face." Pulling back, Nyaeli drew on all of her strength and slammed her blade toward Capris several times, hoping that it would help her force her way through the Padawan's defenses. Even as the dark sky split open from beams of light coming down to purge the surface, she remained relentless in her assault, uncaring if it'd be her own end as well.

All she wanted was to destroy these Jedi.



 
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Bright, crimson light angled closer to Cora's neck, reflecting almost ghoulishly against pale skin. Sparks crackled angrily from the darksider's blade, singing her flesh. It was a battle of milliseconds. With her own saber hilt pressed to Starfall's chest and her thumb sliding off the ignition, who would be the first to deal their killing blow?

It was the deadliest gamble the Padawan had ever made. She wasn't prepared to die, not by a long shot.

Today, she had been spared.

With great speed, Jand crossed the distance between them and tackled Starfall into the mud. The witch's tight grasp on her hair, suddenly removed, had torn a chunk of silky blonde locks from the Jedi's scalp. Tegan's blade had not found her mark, but neither had Cora's. Blue plasma sprung to life, cutting not through her opponent's body, but through air and rain.

Slumping over into the mud, Cora braced her free hand beneath her as she struggled with the pain that bloomed from the depth of her torso and scored along fractured ribs. An iron grip had kept her lightsaber within her grasp, and she extinguished the sizzling blade before heaving her back against a bare tent pole.


{Stay back, Cora - she will not hurt you anymore.}

A spark of clarity shone in hazy blue eyes. Telepathy was an ability she still found jarring, but it was moreso the content of Jand's brief message that had surprised her. The Nagai usually regarded her with such indifference. But it made sense—his promise to protect her had been borne out of respect for Master Noble, nothing more.

Wait, did he call me 'Cora'?

Blood stained lips twitched upward faintly. The Padawan counted herself lucky for his intervention, and for the fact that the mad witch had not executed her immediately. Fear, and the understanding of how close she'd been to death, was finally catching up with her.

With one hand wrapped around her injured torso and the other clenching the grip of her saber tightly, Cora drew in sharp, shallow breaths. It was getting harder to breathe with a punctured lung, and she struggled to focus on the scene unfolding before her. She could still feel the Sith apprentice among them, and Dominik was engaging a group of foot soldiers that had appeared.

A chorus of lightning bolts struck in a circle around Tegan, and when Cora breathed in next, she inhaled the surging presence of someone most familiar.

Master Noble! She's…

More than alive, Valery was coursing through Exegol, cleansing the planet's blood of Dark ichor. Kahlil's essence had intertwined with her own, and together the two Jedi Masters heralded an incredible display of Light sided energy across the surface of the corrupted world.

In this, Cora found an odd sense of comfort. A sense of duty. She'd failed to take down her own opponent, a blunder that necessitated Jand's assistance. With her strength waning, the battered Jedi steadied her ragged breath and opened herself to the Force. Her aid was akin to a trickle in an ocean, but Cora did what she could to help hasten the beams of light as they expanded, sweeping across the plagued landscape of Exegol and burning away the Dark.


"GRANT ME THE LAST TRUE GOD OF THE MAW YOUR POWER! I WILL BREAK THE JIDAI!"

Cora winced. The witch was truly losing it now, and her furious bellow brought back the unsettling memory of Jand's injured body suspended in a tank of bacta. He was stronger now, but she'd never seen anything like Tegan's erratically masterful display of strange, esoteric power.

Her jaw clenched tightly as the sounds of crackling sabers and sizzling plasma hissed around her.


{You’ve killed her once, Jand. You can do it again.}
 
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Location: Sith Citadel
Objective: Escort the Dark Lord │ Salvage Artifacts
Direct Engagement: Nathan Bloodscrawl Nathan Bloodscrawl

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The speedster gave a frustrated grunt when the Jedi smashed her chakram into the ground, severing the weapon in twain. It was a weakness in the design that she would have to fix later. For now, she resolved to maintain the initiative, even if she pushed herself to the limit in doing so. She could only hope that he wouldn’t be able to repeat such a feat. In spite of her shaken confidence, she sent her second chakram flying towards him from 30 meters only a split-second after she had thrown the first, delivered in a hard, straight throw intended to maximize speed and power. In doing so, the speedster aimed to hit the Jedi’s left leg, but she didn’t remain idle after the chakram left her hand.

On cue, her lightsabers sprang to life inside her grasp, displaying howling blades of shimmering alabaster. Then, only a second after throwing her second chakram, the speedster launched herself into a sprint, turning into a blur as she closed the distance separating her from the Jedi within a fraction of a second. Without breaking her stride, she delivered a right-to-left slashing strike aimed to sever her opponent’s right leg at the knee, before sliding to a halt 10 meters behind the Jedi’s position.

However, it was only a short moment after the speedster delivered the attack that she felt a sudden burning sensation arise upon her flesh.


 
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The eerie mixed lighting of red and yellow blades brought flashes of light akin to an open fire. He was massive, surprisingly fast and clearly more experienced than Ala. It took all her focus to not just block a blow but also prevent the extremities of his blade from being levered into her body with her blade as the fulcrum.

She kept moving with bursts of speed over short distances, but only so much as to quickly regroup. There was no clear strategy of avoidance, or dodging, she took each blow as it came and redirected the momentum away from her. The ground beneath their arena began to quickly bare the brunt of his blade. In one way, she was succeeding in defending but her methods inadvertently gave the Dark One more ammunition for his other mode of attack.

She had done well enough to swat away most of the larger chunks of rock with her mind. The smaller ones however were peppering her back and legs. At first, her cloak provided some manner of cover, but then she could feel the shards hitting her body. The minor irritant would soon become more egregious. She would not last forever under this assault. Sacrificing a little more energy, Ala turned her mind to not merely swatting away the larger projectiles, but haphazardly redirecting them towards his head.

The direction of her small movements were not unplanned. Even has he monologued, she moved closer and closer towards one of the larger rune scarred pieces of rubble at the edge of the arena. Her back almost to it, he unleashed what could have easily been a finishing blow. Just as he struck, and the lightning extended out towards her, Ala reached forward and pulled him towards her...just briefly...before dropping to her knees and surrounding herself in a Force created bubble of protection. She felt the lightning ripple about her place of safety, even at one point arcing inside and sharply crackling against her hand. The bulk of his attack though was redirected straight into the piece of rubble behind her.



 


Objective: Strike Team Tano
Equipment: Lightsaber
Tag: Adeline Noctua Adeline Noctua

Dreidi chewed on her bottom lip, this being had been watching her for far too long and called out her bluff. It wasn't a good thing but it also brought some questions for Dreidi as well. "Not trying to prove myself. I am here attempting to fulfil the mission of the New Jedi Order. Our job is to distract you Sith from your mission." Dreidi gave a smirk, she wasn't thinking that she had won at the moment, but to give the air of someone much more confidence and assured of their skills. "And you assume too much, you failed to surprise me and you haven't demonstrated any more skill than I might have myself. I have fought stronger Sith than yourself and survived. I don't think you'll be the one to kill me." This was not a bluff, but fact, Dreidi had faced Sith Lords and lived, she might have ran and needed a week or two in the bacta tank afterwards, but she was alive.

"There's amber, then there's Sith corruption amber." Dreidi laughed as she held her position, cautiously watching.

When the Sith seemed to surrender, Dreidi paused a little. She was unsure if this was a ploy or plan to draw Dreidi in close and kill her. She turned her Lightsaber off and walked towards them. "Well, even if you have most of what you want, it ends now." Dreidi knew she could teleport swiftly away and due to her sensitive senses, she was faster than the standard human. Though nothing but her ears gave away the fact she was not human, unlike her mother who had a full on tail. Something Dreidi was glad to never suffer with.

Pulling off cuffs to imprison the Sith, Dreidi kept slowly moving in closer. Never trusting for a moment that this was going to be as easy as the Sith was making out it would be. Instead, Dreidi was ready to fight for her life if the time would come to it.

"Well, best I take you back to the main Jedi force so the Masters can decide what to do with you." Dreidi stated as she positioned herself to handcuff the Sith girl.

 
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Objective: BYOO
Equipment: Beskar Armour, Lightsaber
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren | Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren | Cybelle Elyance Cybelle Elyance | Darth Temerant Darth Temerant | Velda Nar-Donna Velda Nar-Donna

Wallgof laughed at Brandyn's comment about him talking too much for someone as powerful as he was. "It is merely boredom. Last time I defeated you without a sweat and talked this much." Wallgof laughed more still, remembering those foolish anti-Force Users that attempted to think they could stand in the way of their god.

"Ah, the attempts of hurting me with tiny jabs. I must say, Briana does them a lot better than you do boy. She can be a lot more cutting. Though her back was really cut up last time I faced her. Maybe I am the cutting one." Wallgof continued to chuckle and giggle like this was all a big joke. "See this is where you will fail. You don't understand what it takes to be great Brandyn Sal-Soren, son of Baros and Teyla Sal-Soren." Wallgof wasn't worried of the blade as he took another step closer. "Obsession. That thing you want to mock me for. It is what makes a person great. To be obsessed with being the best, obsessed with achieving every goal you have. To have some slight obsession over the person you love. If you don't understand why a person as powerful as me can be obsessed, then you will never be more than my minion boy."

Shaking his head, Wallgof sighed with disappointment. "Crimes? They were not crimes. I was victim of a hate crime. I believe you know that the New Way is a dangerous lot nowadays. I mean the bombings and attacks, all you saw was me defending myself against the early terrorists. I prevented them doing more harm." Wallgof laughed, "though the killing of Ralia was perhaps a bit much. I could have merely tortured her into surrender. Perhaps your friend will see that fate instead, I don't want you thinking that you will get all your friends killed if you let them get too close." Wallgof taunted as he let his crimson blade touch Brandyn's.

"Do you wish to see what will happen if you attempt to arrest me Jedi. Shall I show you the future again?" Wallgof eyes lit up behind his helmet as his mind threw itself against Brandyn's finding its way inside, to dominate and overwhelm. Using the Force, Wallgof once again attempted to show Brandyn visions, visions of Cybelle and Briana being tortured. Seeing it helpless from the side, unable to stop Wallgof from making their scream and squirm around on the floor helplessly.

A whispered voice in Brandyn's ear, "only your anger, hatred of me could stop this. Your Jedi skills, even your sister's skills have failed. You know this to be true boy."
 
Faith is the heroism of the intellect.
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Location: Forbidden district outskirts, Exegol
Objective: Eliminate the maw
Tag: Amanda braska | Jand Talo Jand Talo | @Asmundr Varibalder
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“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise."- Victor Hugo


SERENITY. STRENGTH.

STAND FIRM IN YOUR INTEGRITY.
LET COURAGE COMPLETE ITS WORK.

Oh, Caltin had heard the call, he felt the energy being projected into him surely as well. This cemented his reasoning for not joining the wall of light, not because the thought of it gave him pause, but because the more Jedi that joined the meld, the more were left defenseless. Even the strongest Jedi sometimes need others to watch their backs after all. Anyone who believed a Sith would not attack a “defenseless” Jedi was kidding themselves.

The thought of this pushed the big guy to fight.

Any Jedi who think that they can completely suppress their emotions are kidding themselves. You will get angry from time to time. The Jedi Code would speak of “anger leading to the Dark Side”, but original Jedi Tenets say different, the first Tenet:

"Emotions are unavoidable, but lessons may be learned from the feeling of these emotions. However, emotions of such strength as to cause a Jedi to act or behave in a manner different from rational thought are dangerous, and must be avoided at all costs for a Jedi to truly master the Force." says otherwise.

You’re going to get angry, when you accept this, you will be more effective. The key is to not try to let this anger control you, that would be where your problems lie. Take what Vanagor was doing right now, as he was being attacked via Force Lightning by a Sith Assassin, he felt the power that this (relatively) young one drew upon and listened to the man(boy, really) cackle. Pushing himself to his feet, Caltin watched as this Darksider now was lining up to behead a Padawan who was thrown back by a Sith Lord.

That was it.

The big man charged and put himself between the Padawan and the assassin. He did not know this Padawan personally, but it did not matter. This assassin was taking an unjust advantage, and Vanagor would have none of it. It was the way of the Jedi, even in the original Tenets. To go into battle it is important to do so in a focused manner, this has been addressed time and time again, yes, but attachments can motivate as much as they distract. The Second Tenet of the Force does agree to an extent:

"Feelings of attraction and love are to be explored carefully and with rationality in mind. Romantic pathways must be treated with care so as to avoid pain and anger. To love another is dangerous yet acceptable if treated with care, but attaching oneself to another life in the bonds of matrimony cannot be allowed if you do not go into this union with a clear mind." Caltin is indeed married, yes, so he is indeed attached, but the woman to whom he is betrothed is attune to the Force herself. She is a redeemed Sith Lord, having given herself to the Light Side. She stayed away from the battlefield nowadays, but if caught in a situation was more than capable. This was freeing for Caltin mentally and emotionally so he was ill affected by the downside of the second Tenet.


The third Tenet might confuse some as it was said to re-enforce the second in many respects, but this was something to take to heart as well:

"The Jedi are to respect life, in any form, and only take life when necessary. A Jedi must put the needs of the community over the needs of individuals. A Jedi is not to act for solely personal gain or greed - the good of all must be his goal." We’ll come back to that in a second, now the next tenet is exactly in line with the big guy’s current way of thinking, a Jedi Guardian.

"A Jedi is to protect the weak and defenseless. A Jedi may not kill a defenseless individual. Should a Jedi be in a position where aid may be given to the weak or the poor, then the Jedi should do what they can to aid the situation within the guidelines of the Code, the Tenets, and of course the law."

That is Caltin’s mantra. “It doesn’t matter when or where, it matters not the danger. We race as though to help a friend when called on by a stranger,
And maybe just remind the few, if ill of us they speak, that we are all that stands between the monsters and the weak.” Not the Jedi Code, but his, and what he tries to instill in his Padawans.

Depending on how each Jedi interprets this, it may differ from one to another. Some may consider this tenet as a way of standing over each “innocent” and becoming overzealous in their actions. Others may believe absolutely no one is “weak” or completely “defenseless” having their own strengths. This keeps them to a position of not quite “authority” but for what they are, “protectors”.

As he saw Braska holding her own against a Sith Lord, he paid attention to the Knights who were joining in the wall of Light. They would receive the protection that they needed, anyone who were fleeing the area would receive the same. The big man was not picky about who he focused on, he wanted them focusing on him, so Caltin had a rare free moment and called upon his unique connection to the Force and began to manipulate the natural moisture and oxygen in the air. More and more he motioned until the winds picked up and the rains began to fall harder and harder. The Maw may call this planet “home” but they would not have a “hometown advantage” at least for the moment.

Because we serve and protect, there is the next Tenet.

"Ruling power and financial wealth are not permitted for a Jedi, as these lead to arrogance and self-pride. Self-pride is a complex that eats the heart and mind of all, including Jedi. If a Jedi thinks he or she is greater than other beings, equal to other beings, or less than other beings then they have succumbed to self-pride. Guard against these three complexes night and day."

Yes, Caltin is financially secure, multiple times over, but his work is for the betterment of the galaxy, with the company he partners with Admiral Angellus and the Outreach that his wife runs, there is no real “profit” that goes to him, it goes to the populace and the employees. The only “perks” are things like the customized ships for the Jedi and customized gear that he is using on this theater.

The last two tenets:

"A Jedi must consider the living and cosmic manifestations of the Force - one must be mindful of the present, but also look to both the future and the past for guidance."

… and…

"A Jedi does not fight for adventure or glory. A Jedi fights for the survival of civilization and the survival of the people within it. The greatest Jedi is not the one who defeats an army of thousands, but the one who triumphs over himself. Your importance lies in your devotion to life." These tenets tend to mesh together depending on the Jedi and their outlook, if they are a student of history they will look to the past to shape their present. Those Jedi who look to the future will let their present shape their outlook.

Caltin is, was, and always has been (even if sometimes self-proclaimed) a champion, a Guardian of the Jedi. Not to be confused with the “Sword” or the “Shield” of the Jedi, they are deserving of those titles in and for their own reasons. No, Caltin does what he does so that no one else has to. He acts the way he does so that no one else should have to. Naive? Maybe. Unrealistic? Probably, but it is what has kept him alive.

This was his courage completing its work. This was his own integrity standing firm. As Vanagor moved forward in a defensive posture towards the nearest grouping of Maw (while suspending a TIE fighter in mid-air and throwing it via the Force at another), he reached out through his mind.

~ Everyone on the ground who can hear me. Trust in yourself. The battles that count aren't the ones for gold medals. The struggles within yourself - the invisible, inevitable battles inside all of us - that's where it is at. I feel the same sense of darkness that you do… trust yourself and in your training.~

They did not need to do this forever… they just needed to hold out long enough.
 
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They didn't have anything more to say to one another.

That somehow hurt more than any word or action exchanged between Cordé Sabo Cordé Sabo and himself. Maybe it was really too late and before Sion could convince himself to stay, his legs were already carrying him away from the room. Halfway through the trip - scary, echoing steps and a smug emptiness - Sion blinked and had to catch himself against the wall.

Asmundr Varobalder Asmundr Varobalder .

He felt him and in wonder blinked upwards towards the skies.

Already the power was building. It wouldn't be long before the tide of the Light would swallow everything on this world. But their victory would be short lived... the Maw had made sure of that. As he walked towards the reactor room he brought up the missive given to him by Cordé. It was... okay, but it was also as perfunctory as a SIA message could get.

Cold facts, data, a warning to evacuate.

"It could break their spirit." Sion muttered as he quickly descended down. If at the rise of their final victory of the Maw, they'd be warned by a cold message of facts and a command to evacuate. It had to be more than that. Finally Sion encountered the reactor room. It was in emergency mode, the lights flickering red before dying out every so often.

But luckily they hadn't destroyed the reactor. Perhaps it was hubris or something else Sion cared not. He'd make use of it regardless.

By jury-rigging the reactor and the comms array Sion would send a message out.

ATTENTION: GALACTIC ALLIANCE PERSONNEL

This is Sion Lorray, Padawan to General Osarla Ridor, and I send this message to tell you our victory is close at hand. It will not be long before the corruption of Exegol will be wiped clean. But... I come with a warning. Our mission was to secure hidden stations under the earthly shell of this dark world.


To prevent a self-destruct mechanism from occurring.
I have failed you in this.


The station has already been engaged. It might be possible to stop it, but if we do not succeed we believe the world's fate will be sealed soon. And all that is on it with it. We must hurry: complete your mission, keep your friends close and finish what we came here to do. Let Exegol not become a graveyard to the Alliance, but a beacon to all those in the Galaxy. Proof that the Darkside can never be victorious. Not as long as the Light stands united against it.

We will do what we can to delay the mechanism and hopefully stop it entirely, as to allow you to finish your duty before evacuating.

May the Force be with us all.

 
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TAGS: Escape Jara
Temerant held his ground as she approached. This gentle act had to be a ruse. She had to be playing for time, for reinforcements to arrive. She was trying to lure him him into a false sense of security. Even the presence emanating from her was likely a part of the act. He had seen Jedi do such things before. Present themselves as harmless, concealing just how truly deadly they were.

She lifted her arms then. Was she... Surrendering? No. As if confirming his suspicions, the swarm moved to lock him in place with heart. His heart sunk as he realized too late her ploy, the engineer in him recognizing the technology for what it was. Nanites.

Had he not been pressed for time, or in mortal danger, for that matter, he would've marveled at what he was seeing. His company had attempted to create similar things, but the complexity of nanomechanics were far beyond most, and whilst they had made significant advances, this was quite simply on another level. Whoever had made her suit was a genius well beyond him. But right now, the display of brilliance only served to anger and frustrate him.

"What have you done?" he growled as the doors locked, promptly answering his question. "Hrrrn. That was foolish," he continued in frustration. "You Jedi are all the same," he accused. "Presuming you know best. Presuming you can impose your will unto others. You claim you wish for peace, and yet the peace you offer is uncompromising. Only under your terms. Only so long as you continue to possess total moral authority."

"Good. Keep stalling a little longer, Master. I am checking with Commander Atali to organize an extraction," the droid urged him.

He began to pace, buying X3 some time to do his thing. "And what happens when someone does not wish to conform to your totalitarian dogmas? You squash them, dressing your opression under the veneer of righteousness. Just as you intend to do now," he grunted. "How many millenia need to pass for you people to learn from your hypocrisies? How many more must pay for your conceit? What makes you so sure this would be better off in your hands, hrm?" he continued to disparage her Order.

"Just one more moment..." X3 assured him.

"Pray tell, how should I interpret this, if not as hostility?" he opened his arms, the lightsaber humming with the movement. "You say you do not wish to fight, yet that is the only option you offer, outside of submitting to your will. Not much of a choice, is it? The only difference between us is that I do not offer the illusion of amiability to make myself feel better. You will fight me and you will try to kill me," he latched Project Jareth onto one of the magnetic hooks on his belt. "That is always how this ends. At least I am not dishonest about my intentions."

"Okay! Commander Atali believes he can join you for extraction, but he'll need you on the ship's deck. Anything else is too risky with the chaos outside. He awaits your signal," the droid finally gave him an out.

Temerant, however, had gotten a bit wrapped up in his little speech. He needed to stop doing that. The question was... Was he trying to convince her... Or himself?

It didn't matter. He would never submit in the face of adversity, and her little display only reinforced what he believed about the Jedi. Even with his ability to disappear in the Force, he would never be able to escape their judgment: one look at the colour of his blade was all they needed to decide on the quality of his character and his intentions. Granted, he was not a good person. Far from it: he was under no illusions to the contrary. But they were no different. He simply didn't fool himself about the nature of his actions.

He adopted a wide Niman opening stance, his feet evenly spaced as he held his lightsaber away from his body, a fist over his chest.

"Defend yourself," he demanded, ready to do battle. There was no sadness in him for what was about to transpire. Only resignation. He had been assigned this task because the powers-that-be knew he would stop at nothing to complete his assignment. Because at the end of the day, he was a ruthless killer, willing to go to any length to fulfill his goals.

This was who he was.
 



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Tag: Escape Jara
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All his life. Brandyn longed for moments like this. To be the Jedi standing before unruly evil, and be the one to not move, to not give into their manipulations and to win the day. It had always been his dream to be the hero. As he watched and listened to Wallgof intently, he offered very little in the way of overt changes to his expression. To someone like Wallgof though, they may notice the micro-expressions that crept out underneath his emotional armour.

His nostrils flared slightly at the mention of Briana being better at 'cutting remarks'. The Jedi quickly reigned in his competitive spirit. The spiel about obsession saw no reaction until mention of obsessing over the one you loved. Brandyn's eyes flicked ever so slightly in the direction that he knew Briana and Cybelle to be. His left eye twitched at how lightly he talked about the innocents killed because he was offended by The New Way...and then his casual discussion of Ralia...but Brandyn took a breath to calm himself.

The spark of his blade against Wallgof's saw Brandyn's grip tighten. Everything in his body screamed out to attack the Sith, but he waited, denying his passion a chance to control him.

All the heroes in the holovids he had watched as a kid had had some witty one liner. Brandyn needed something, but words alluded him.

Then came the invasion of his mind. The crack in his psyche was easily found once again, and Wallgof found his way into the mind of the young Jedi. Entering may have been as easy, but what Wallgof found within was not the same easily manipulated young Padawan. The young man's face grew more strained as he pushed back on the invasive presence of the insane Sith before him. While he could not 'close up shop' entirely, the visions did not play out in an all consuming fashion as before. Brandyn was still in control.

"Seriously. Shut the kark up, Sithspit," Brandyn said with a shake of his head.

The attack on his mind was enough for Brandyn to consider that he was now on the defense. Stepping back, Brandyn pulled back his blade and struck out at Wallgof's right shoulder.

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O B J E C T I V E
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Wearing: Black Hooded Cloak
Equipment: Lightsabers x2
As she circled him, the sizzle of her bright hot crimson plasma blade could be heard against the cold harsh durasteel of the flooring. Bright hot parts of the steel dripped away to fall into the shallow channel that the blade was tracing through the floor. A channel that spiraled slowly closer and closer to him, with each slow, bored circle around him that she made with each step.

"There is no mercy on offer, and there is no remorse… and appeals to such is the cry of the weak." She said her eyes watching her blade and him, her voice calm. "There is no death. There is only The Force, and I, am its Master." Her words were melodious with sin, and such a perversion of the Jedi Code itself. A line that sounded so bittersweet, and yet, sounded so devilishly right. As misguided as the Jedi Code was it did touch upon an important truth their beliefs only scratched the surface on, that of being no death.

He mentioned how doomed The Maw was, and it was of course inevitable. "Yes, I do feel it, exhilarating, isn't it? Sensing the culling of the weak through The Force…." On the surface, yes, The Maw was losing, but, in reality, Velda knew The Maw and herself had won even before the battle began. To Velda, those that were cut down by the Jedi only left those that in the end, would be all the more stronger for it after Exegol, even if those that remained were few in number.

He then mentioned the elegance of her blade work, and how it ill-fitted the rest of The Maw. Which of course was true only to a point. Usually, she would not divulge certain information to such an enemy, yet seeing as The Maw was in its nadir. She saw no harm in doing so, especially since this particular Sith seemed misguided about a number of things.

"Do you know what Exegol is? It is more than just a planet. It is a darkside nexus and the true spiritual homeworld of the Sith. What we are beholding this day, is the heretical extinguishing of a glorious lineage. Tracing further back way before The Brotherhood even existed. The Maw itself is nothing more than an instrument of bloodshed and war among many at its disposal. What really mattered, was the New Sith Order, The Warlords, were merely the face that veiled that secret. The New Sith Order is the lineage of the true Sith. A bloody and colorful history of conquest and culmination. The Warlords were only half the story." She could have gone further into that but got to what is important.

"Myself? I predate even the Maw and go back as far as The One Sith. And no matter where the galactic winds and destiny may take me. And even if I manage to be the last of The Sith Lords of this befallen Sith Order. No matter which flag I hold my allegiance to, I will always represent that which I am, the true Sith, and not a pretender. And this is not a subjective but an objective truth and a fact." He wished to know why, he got his answer, and quite the answer it was.

"Knowing about weakness and failure does not make you weak. Yet, looking at weakness and failure as an option to embrace makes you the craven." She sang out those words, that cut like a razorblade.

"A pity, one so well versed with their blade, and yet so petty. I…."

FLASH AND BANG...

Temporarily she was blinded, so much trickery with this Sith and that was to be expected. As her eyesight slowly faded back into focus, she saw his blurry black visage running, making his way to project Jareth. "Come back here!!" Electric tendrils came from the elegant fingers of her right hand, not ricocheting off the floor this time. But straight through the air as the white pearlescent hot hue of lightning scratched and clawed its way toward him to pull him back in there with her. It would never come to be, a plasma bolt from a blaster was seen, then the door slammed shut, marking a divide between the two Sith.

She stood there just silently for a moment, seething with refined emotional control, hatred, and focused. She heard the crackle and pop in the aftermath of the lightning, and smelled the ozone in the air. "Does he really believe this pitiful door can contain me?" She disengaged her lightsabers calling the force to holster them back into her sleeves. And as she walked up to the door, Velda had her answer, and her right hand reached out toward it. And with the force, the door slowly crushed inward and churned. The metals screeched in protest and moaned in movement, only to find itself being ripped apart from the door itself. In a vicious and powerful display of the darkside. Piece by piece, she ripped the door open. The last large piece of metal casually force thrown to the side. With a demure wave of the hand.

She walked through the hole made, not giving chase, she knew where he was going, and then she stopped. He was not alone with Jareth, someone was in there with him. She could sense the one, but not him. But she had a feeling he was in there. The presence felt like one of the Jedi, faintly familiar and yet, the identity of this Jedi was still a mystery.

The Sith had his hands full for the moment, no point in confronting him again just yet. Even if she lost Jareth this day, it would by no means be a failure, one must not get too attached to material things after all, as grand as they might be. And as always, Velda's point-of-view was of the much larger picture, Jareth was a luxury of course to have, but losing it was not so much of a concern. And would not hinder her long-term goals, although she would exercise all options to stop them from leaving with it at her disposal, of course.

She would instead search for the other Jedi and the other darksider.

~INTO THE LOWER LEVELS~​

She ventured down into the lower levels of the freighter, and soon enough, she found the darksider, who, she assumed was a Sith. And the Jedi, that was…Brandyn. It was almost as if her black heart sank for a fleeting moment. They were speaking about The New Way, the parasite of a terrorist group that should kneel before The Sith as the gods and goddesses of this galaxy.

Velda Force Jumped off the upper walkway where she witnessed their talk, between Brandyn and him or rather the Sith bemoaning The New Way and talking about obsessions. And a talk Velda could care less about.

As she took the last steps up to them. Her shadowy visage then stopped, as if she was a void searching for perfect stillness. And just staring at the Sith, while the Sith and Brandyn both held their sabers in hand, as they started their fight. "You can talk much, and you can show much, but you cannot run from your fate." She said as both of her sabers flew from her sleeves and back into her hands. Their chorus of death beginning again "And I, have no issues in turning this ship into your tomb." She said at the sith.

She kept her eyes on both, watching both of them. Her Juyo inspired Jar'kai was about to be unleashed once more. "Showing visions will not help you here Sith. You will fight, or you will be destroyed." Her words aimed at the Sith once more.

She had to admit, watching Brandyn fight, was glorious. If only they could see her lips curl, smirking.



 

EXEGOL | FORBIDDEN DISTRICT | THE GATES​

Jem stood rigid, a pillar of steel amongst the flexible bend of the jedi hive mind. She found it hard to let it do more than brush against her. She rationalized it was because of her father. It was just a sensitive enough topic that no one pressed it.

Jem lied to herself and to everyone around, each glance from Ishida pulling a forced smile to her lips. Her posture screamed of confidence. Her slow breaths indicated she was calm. Yet deep inside her heart raced, weighed down by a truth that she kept to herself.

She could feel him down there. Her father. Whatever link they had shared during the force storm had not been shattered by her betrayal. Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis lived through her.

So she blocked the hivemind out.

Jem barely managed a grimace at Ishida's jaunt, half present and a million miles away as the door opened to the planet that had been her personal hell for near half a year.

"If I do this right?" She finally answered, her fingers thumbing a golden saber to life. "Both."

She should say more to Ishida. Thank her-- encourage her-- go with her. She did none of it. She took off and skirted around the edge of the building conflict, leaving Strike Team Windu , and her friend, where they stood.

She knew what she needed to do.

Ishida Ashina

On route to throne room
Solo arc

Somewhere in Jem's blood was a royal line. She found that ironic as she sloshed her way through filth under her father's former home. A sewage system brought her down and under the main conflict. She moved through the filth without feeling it, towards the steel structure that had been her twisted version of inheritance.

One day this will all be yours.

The irony continued to grate her as she cut her way through a service door. If things had just been a little different, this could have been Epoch. She would have had a home. She would have known her people-- had a family.

There would be no reason to burn her father's legacy down.

Heat bit painfully at her skin as she kicked the cut out metal into the hall beyond. She stepped into the quiet length and let her senses overtake her. There were no bodies moving above her below her. They would all be drawn to the front, towards the blood lust her father had awakened in them.

Even she could feel the alluring call of darkness beat through her. Kill. Kill. Kil-- Serenity. Jem stiffened under brush of Asmundr Varobalder Asmundr Varobalder , her skin flushing unseen in the darkness as she pulled back. He didn't need to feel that-- none of them needed to feel that.

Jem locked the burden of the darkness away from them and reentered her thoughts on her heart, racing loudly in the empty space.

Daughter. She could practically feel his grin inside her mind, as she always had since the day she had betrayed him. Your people need you. Here.

"Oh shut up." She took off running.

Throne Room

It was unnerving how little had changed since her father's death. The large black stone chamber was hollow and cold. The very space throb with memories suffering, so much of it had been her own. She could hear of her cries-- taste her blood-- Every step she took resonated through the air and hit her like a phantom blow, but she forced herself to take another. All her turmoil went silent at the sight of her father's throne.

She stopped short, suddenly aware that she felt no one... nothing at all.

Mistress, it beckoned, its voice slithering in from the space she placed between her and her peers. She couldn't feel them now. She feared with startling clarity that that was a mistake.

The darkness sensed it too. Jem reached with panic toward the light-- Dark energy lept off the throne with malicious glee.

She lifted her saber against the attack, but there was nothing tangible about it. Inky black coils pooled around her mouth.... eyes... nose... and slithered through her. They drowned out the world and denied her all senses. It attacked her pysche, sharp jabs of pain driving with crushing force for her submission. It was all encompassing, with none of the gentle coaxing the darkside had once shown patience to do.

Jem bore no false illusions as the throne laid claim to her person.

This was a siege.

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THE WARDEN
LIGHTPOINT STATION || MEDITATION SPHERE
PHASE III: CALL TO LIGHT
BATTLEMELD ACTIVE
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For all the positive feedback that bled into his connection to all the Jedi, and other allies on the planet, there was extreme strife. Even those that were not sensitive to The Force itself were a part of the web that Asmundr immersed himself in ( Dominik Borra Dominik Borra ). Their fear, their courage, their endurance, he leaned into that as well.

For all that there was, there was not enough. Each emotion that could not be swapped amidst those on the crust of Exegol itself, from one Strike team to another, felt Asmundr’s own lifeforce and connection reached out to them to establish balance where there was otherwise the concern of total loss or recession to darkness.

Those that faltered, or even teetered on the shadow’s edge, felt the venerable master’s booming reinforcement through their connection that would draw them to participate, to strengthen, the Wall of Light — Silas Westgard , Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor , Amanda braska , Jand Talo Jand Talo , and Sion Lorray Sion Lorray .


If they couldn’t hear him, they would feel the sentiment that he poured out through the meld:

SERENITY. STRENGTH.
STAND FIRM IN YOUR INTEGRITY.
LET COURAGE COMPLETE ITS WORK.


He felt the evil in the bowels of the Citadel, it looked like a well of shadows in his mind’s eye, and how it coiled and coiled to unleash a strike at the shimmering light of the would-be Empress.

The dark didn’t hold much substance of course, not to Asmundr who’d become One with the Force once upon a time ago. Now, darkness was like shading to give depth to his understanding, where before it had been a thing without dimension.

Now, it added to a fuller picture, better painting the duality of the Knight who reached out, and provided a stark contrast against the glint of her golden thread flickering and thinning.

Asmundr frowned, tried to re-emphasize his sentiment to reinforce her, embolden her golden thread and the task at hand and all that it meant for her. He could feel it so intensely that he could practically see it. Jem was one of those he’d understood from both visions and personal experience — She’d been his student’s student.

In lieu of Dagon, Asmundr split himself more heavily to the plight that the daughter of Fossk had chosen to do alone, and then, when he felt her fear, she shoved it away in favour of peace.

STAND FIRM IN YOUR INTEGRITY. He emphasised again, this time more direct, more intensely at Fossk.

What else did she need here? The light, yes, but more than that. Something fuller.

How could she have been so surprised? What had she not expected?

THERE IS NO IGNORANCE, THERE IS KNOWLEDGE

The metaphysical vessel of himself lent the perspective which he shared, the dimension that came with darkness, the fuller spectrum of sight.

On Lightpoint station, the physical version of himself was grimacing through the strain. Hands shaking. Molars clenched. Split between pouring his ashlan energy to the Wall, and provide the guidance for those on the crust of the planet.




ALLIES | THE NEW JEDI ORDER | THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE | CIRCLE OF SEERS | Jem Fossk Jem Fossk
FOES | THE DARKSIDE | BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW


Jem felt herself driven to her knees, the internal battle for control occupying her full being. There was not an ounce of her spared from the agony, her fingers twitching as ownership of them wavered back and forth. Why did she ever think she could do this alone? She was nothing more than a mote inside a swirling void, the inevitability of it all--

She felt herself bolstered, the pressure easing as light from another source strengthen her. Dagon? The word echoed, a childish plea breaking through the force.

No. No, it was him. But she wasn't alone. She wasn't alone. Her name was Jem. She was here for a reason. She chose the light and she would. Not. Bend. His support grounded her, but it was her that reached back for Asmundr Varobalder Asmundr Varobalder and the light he offer. She found herself enfolded in the force meld.

Pillars of energy erupted all around her, their hues far brighter than the singlar source of black that tried to possess her. It shocked her how small it looked against the rest of the force around her, like suddenly... it was the mote. It's victory didn't seem so inevitable anymore.

Help me, she pleaded into the meld, throwing the last tendrils of darkness off her body and gathering in the light. She knew why she had come here-- She knew her part to play.

Prisms reflected off the gold of her skin as she let its purifying power fill her.. and threw it at her father's throne.

Its reign of power ended here.
 
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It was clear that He held the advantage in this fight.

Few Jedi could stand against Him, even less could do so one-on-one. This Jedi struggled valiantly, but such valor mattered little to the Dark Lord of the Sith. Victory resided in the hands of those who's will was strong enough to seize it, those eager to do whatever it took to survive. The Dark Lord had survived much, endured many tribulations, but they had passed over Him like rain upon the mountain. So many of those who once thought themselves His rivals, His equals, were now little more that motes of dust scattered to the void.

So would this momentary victory of the Light, even as their scouring luminescence began to wash over Exegol. They may banish the darkness for an age, but in time their light shall diminish, and the shadows which once clung to the periphery shall again become ascendant. Thus was the enduring cycle of their endless struggle, their Eternal War, the Dark and the Light. Many times had the wheel spun in His lifetime, and He'd survived each one; learning and growing stronger.

Carnifex pushed her back, up against the edge of their arena. A shard of stone, one that He had wrenched free, was redirected towards Him. In a flash, He cut it into pieces, letting the refuse clatter down to the ground at His feet. He then swung to strike her down, but she ducked and covered herself in a protective cocoon. His blow instead struck one of the runic wards, which crumpled in two as His blade cut cleanly through the stone. The shielding around them warbled and became distorted, losing integrity with the vacuum left by the destroyed war. Not that it mattered, it was only a temporary measure. The Dark Lord stepped back before raising His blade parallel with His body, His mind drifting as new sensations bombarded Him.

"So, Vesta passes into shadow. That animal Kyrel also fades, at the hands of my son no less. A fitting end for the one who destroyed our world, but justice has not yet been meted. There will come a time for that." He looked back to the Jedi Master, who was prepared for whatever He threw at her next. Perhaps to her surprise, the Dark Lord instead deactivated His weapon. "Leave this world with your life, Jedi, and bask in the glow of the Alliance's victory against the Brotherhood. It will prove to be a hollow one, but may it console you as your galaxy rots."

The Dark Lord then turned His back on the Jedi, making an effort to walk away. Already the effects of the Alliance's station could be felt in the atmosphere, the electrical disturbances growing more and more chaotic as the wall of light began to cascade over Exegol; consuming all in its wake.


 
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Wearing: Armor
Equipment: Lightsaber
Location: Maw Freighter
Tag: Darth Temerant Darth Temerant | Velda Nar-Donna Velda Nar-Donna | Darth Wallgof Darth Wallgof | Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren | Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren | Escape Jara

__________


"I locked the doors."

He asked; Cybelle answered simply. There was nothing in her that would give him any reason to doubt her words, though, in the spirit of transparency she did tilt her head slightly to the side with an amendment. She could feel the nanites working continually through the freighters core commands through the neural-link. They were incredibly swift when it came to making adjustments in technology that hadn't been designed to keep them out. The more she utilized them? The more they learned. "…All, the doors."

At the notion of it being foolish, she nodded her head in acceptance, certainly acknowledging the consequences. While he would have difficulty getting out and her team may have trouble navigating the ship in their respective sectors—No one would be coming in, either. The way was shut. Honeyed eyes were steeped in what seemed to be infinite patience while he launched into a tirade that Cybelle was certain Jedi had endured through the ages. The man of non-existence had questions and accusations that could only be answered with humility and tolerance.

Her eyes flickered low. Briefly, in the silence that followed. When she looked up once more, this Sith would freely see an echo of pity in her gaze. It was clear that he was troubled, or perhaps, had poor experiences that shaped his frame of mind.
"We may fight…But I have no wish to bring you harm. I will do all that I can not to...But mercy to an enemy cannot come at the expense of their victims. ", she intoned, soft as ever, and brutally honest. Cybelle would do what she needed to secure Project Jareth but not at the expense of casually taking life. It was a last resort. A final full measure that would burden her for the rest of her days.

As it should. No life, enemy or otherwise, was expendable.


"Are all Sith also the same?"

Her question came slowly as Cybelle had become more than aware that as a Sith he should have at least tried to split her in two by now. Perhaps, he thought her not worth the effort…Or perhaps he was stalling for time. The man in black spoke at great length, with barely a breath between, and had done little more than brandish his lightsaber. She had a difficult time trying to predict his movements. There were no barbs, save, for moral quandaries. It was almost as if he was expecting her to open the floor to a bloody duel by throwing the opening salvo. "If you could assure me with 100% certainty that Project Jareth would never be used to cause harm, in any way, by yourself or those you follow…I could be convinced to stand down."

The auburn-haired Knight watched while his stance changed ironically into that of the diplomat's form. He was telegraphing his intent in a way that was most confounding. He either expected her to recognize it or he didn't. Being a jack-of-all-trades would help him, immensely, but Cybelle truly had no desire to lock themselves in combat. "However, we both know that's impossible."

He either wouldn't care to—Or it would be an outright lie.

"So, I must default to what I know to be true. It's better off in my hands because at the very least I know myself and my people. This bloodletting that you seem to fall toward, stranger, this violent desire…It is a losing game. No one wins.", she finished, though, once again, bowed her head in quiet respect. If they were to fight until only one of them was left standing—She would at least begin how she had been taught. If she did not respect her opponent, and recognize their skill, she was a fool. It meant that Cybelle did not respect herself…And that just wasn't true.

Her hands moved and clasped behind her back and she remained still as stone. No longer looking at his shadowed form nor taking stock of the fact that he would likely soon strike. A good mix of martial prowess and Force abilities were expected, but, Cybelle was certain to expect the unexpected. This freighter was full of strange surprises and oddities.

Like the man who didn't exist.


"My name is Cybelle."

An introduction while being instructed to defend herself from certain death. Hair that fell straight as a pin obscured her features but the inherent tranquility in her voice carried through the red-hued storage area with crystalline precision. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance...But we must both do what we must."

If this was his decision…He knew what to do. Begin.
 
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GENERAL RIDOR
222ND NOVA CORPS || 512TH LEGION || 312 ATTACK BATALLION
PERIMETER OF FORBIDDEN DISTRICT || EN ROUTE TO FORBIDDEN DISTRICT SHIPYARDS ||

PHASE 3: CLEANSING LIGHT
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Rushing wind, piercing lances, roaring speeders — the 222nd was a speedy, focused force en route to the hidden shipyards.

It would have been foolhardy to expect to reach their destination unchallenged, however. Part of the plan they’d all prepared weeks for was the convergence of conflict on Exegol. The Brotherhood’s butchery was one thing, but the practised uniformity of Imperials was less anticipated. At least they were consistent in their role of slimy opportunists.

Individual shields shimmered over the marines to protect themselves from plasma rays that would see them ended.

Osarla was aware of the reports that came in from The Pathfinders breaching the position of Imperial legions; but could not be deterred from their Shipyard objective. The Maw’s resources would see themselves destroyed, to make reuse impossible.

Heavy gunships, marked with an emblem that had many-a-time frequented the skies to contest the GADF, Final Dawn, docked themselves throughout the district. They seemed to be travelling the same direction as the 222nd.

Overhead, atmospheric support in the shape of B-Wings, X-Wings, and other alphabetically-inclined starfighters, careened through the sky, tearing through designated targets to clear the way for the ground charge.

Once they were quite near the shipyard designation, where the subterranean location was supposed to do, the swoop bikes spanned out to encircle the sensitive areas and pummel open the sensitive areas.

<Give the order, Major.>

Just as Osarla offboarded the chain of command to Teshi Ocano Teshi Ocano , her comm lit up with a priority message. Her Padawan was sending out a broadcast en masse to all of the GADF?

What was he doing on a subterranean station trying to delay a Maw failsafe program? That sounded like SIA work, and not the mission Sion had entered Exegol with; which was providing support for the wounded.

She frowned deeply, scanning the contents of the message. They were of an entirely different nature than the save me pleas on Oyokal. More akin to the decisive defense he’d taken to protect her from the HRD in the tunnels. That worried her. It worried her that he was in a situation like that again. On Exegol, of all places. She’d wanted him far from the battlefield to protect him from exactly this.

All around her, loud, explosive battle noises erupted. The ground beneath them started to quiver and give way, creating limited access for those on swoops to pour into the shipyards and destroy that which could be found down there.

<General?> The voice that spoke to her had received the same message he had. It affected their plans, and the scope of their advance.

<Advance a quarter of the brigade, set charges up to one hundred metres from this mark and then return. We’ll assess the situation as we go. They're working on it.> Whoever they were. Sion was just one person. <I have faith.> Which earned her a nod from the brigadier and a few extra seconds to correspond with her Padawan. She tried at first to reach out and sense him, but the Force was a clusterfeth of cacophonous static; all she could feel was that he was alive. Anything more intimate than that would take more of her energy than she had while on the battlefield and maintaining situational awareness.

So she tapped back a response as quickly as she could, recorded a correspondence rather than taking the time to type it out. Sion could pick up, or receive it later.

Sion Lorray Sion Lorray ,
Thank you for sending this message through.


Do you have a transport of your own in the case of evacuation? If not, share your location immediately and the fleet will coordinate. None of that ‘Won’t leave you’ chit if worse comes to worse. You get on a ship and get out.


ALLIES | GA | NJO | Strike Team Rex | Teshi Ocano Teshi Ocano | Alexander Hayes Alexander Hayes | Janesha Porwool Janesha Porwool | Sara Roche Sara Roche |
FOES | THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | PROBABLY THE EMPIRE


 
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TAGS: Escape Jara
Temerant had fallen quiet now. Her reasoning made, on some level, good sense, but the man was slowly withdrawing into himself even as she made her counter-points. Even as she offered mercy. He had to ignore it: ever since his little adventure with that Padawan, Capris Halcyon Capris Halcyon , he had began to grow... Soft. Building a bad habit of playing with his food. Offering chances and attempting to reason with people he should, by all means, simply dispatch without so much as a word. And a part of him wanted to kill her... So very badly.

The Sith he'd faced earlier had been right. The Bogan was strong in the planet. He'd known this, of course, but with the continuous, bloody battle waged all over the sphere, it was difficult to ignore his own bloodlust. Most of the time, he did well to keep it in rein it in, but it was always there, gnawing at the back of his mind. And then there was the rush of dopamine when he conquered an adversary, not unlike that of a successful hunt. The two had become eerily similar throughout his years with the Order, and now he could feel it prickling under his skin, urging him to he let loose and joined in on the carnage. The grip on his lightsaber tightened...

And then she bowed.

The Knight Inquisitor was caught entirely off guard, as if he'd just been soaked in ice water, bringing him back to reality. He blinked behind the helmet, then offered her a faint dip of his chin, his sense of honour demanding he acknowledged it. For a moment, he'd almost devolved into an animal. And though he was as close as a man could be to one, there were still certain things which set him apart from them. He was a monster, but one with a code... It had been such a simple gesture, yet it had been enough to bring him back from the brink.

He did not offer a name in return when he announced herself. A man who did not exist could not have one.

"We must," he agreed, his husky tones firm in his regained solemnity. "I shall remember your name," he promised then.

He always did. He had a long history of duels and though he did not always get a chance to learn his opponents' names, he always did when acquired. And what little solace that provided, it was important to him. A warrior's death was a noble thing. To let them fall from memory would be disrespectful, as much to them as to his own sense of duty.

He advanced towards her, studying her body language. There was no Dun-Möch this time around. No attempts to break her down before a blow was even exchanged. They both knew what was to come and she had offered him respect. The least he could do was offer the same dignity in return.

His grip fell to the standard low Niman guard as he adjusted, foregoing power. Like the woman from before, she was considerably smaller than him, which likely entailed she was more agile at her baseline. He would happily sacrifice some power for better control and precision. The ancient texts he'd studied on duelists past insisted that when the greatest duelists from ages past faced one another their actual battles tended to be terribly quick, with most of the fight taking place before they ever crossed blades, adjusting their stances in response to one another for as long as they felt necessary. There was even an instance where a duel was won without a single strike being issued, one Master admitting defeat and bowing to the other, having recognized their superiority simply by studying their stances.

Alas, he had yet to attain such transcendental mastery. For now, he was satisfied that he was in a good spot to launch his assault, the man using his superior reach in an attempt to find an opening as he launched his assault, whilst keeping her at bay as he adjusted to her fighting style.
 

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