Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Invasion [GA | DE] Operation Shadow Hand | GA Defense of Tython, Empress Teta, & Prakith

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Torture and Interrogation Officer and Agent
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Information
Objective: Help to her fellow ISB companions
Location: Cinnegar, Empress Teta
Equipment: 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || Empyrean gland || OPBC-01m
Direct Tag: Kazian Blackwood Kazian Blackwood | Closed
Tags: Jon Hojkstra Jon Hojkstra | KN-967 KN-967 | TK-818 TK-818 | Thomas Barran Thomas Barran | Arminius Kroeger Arminius Kroeger | Rath Nihro Rath Nihro | Open
"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>


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I nodded briefly to the man that the surface and buildings would remain. There is indeed a greater chance of survival if a building collapses with you in it rather than under it. I don't know how muddy the sewer system may or may not have been, but I wouldn't have minded that part if I could survive it. I figured the man might have more field experience and experience than me, so I left it up to him. Because of this, I had to prepare for a longer and longer run; this was of course not an obstacle, I just quickly instructed the AI via my biochip to check the external images, possibly satellite images, to see how clear the road still was on the surface.

"Fine, then we use the buildings. I've already requested the latest footage to see if the shortest route is still clear, or if the fighting has already reached there and we need to correct it." I told him as I looked towards the door.

No, I didn't detect any movement or presence, neither me nor the sensors, it was mostly just instinct, always expecting to be attacked at any time. It was somehow necessary to stay alive; and of course, in our profession as agents, excessive caution and paranoia didn't hurt either. Without these, the "agent" will be very short-lived. To the next one I nodded in agreement that it was indeed time to move on. I took one of the pistols in my hand just in case and when the man started for the door I did the same. As the sensors showed no sign of anyone nearby, I opened the door and stepped out through it, answering the next question there and then.

"My original title and rank is Torture and Interrogation Agent and Officer; my job was to track down, capture, torture for information, and then kill a high-ranking Galactic Alliance politician. Unfortunately, the cowardly worm left the planet in the first minutes of the invasion, so I was transferred here to assist in your rescue, Agent." I said to the man. "So, because of the original task, I am in full gear."

At that moment, I received the information whether the road to the nearest building was clear or not. Well, I had no luck in the first job, but here it seemed to be for the moment. The images were immediately projected onto my retina by the AI, no one was in the range we needed, no civilians, no soldiers.

"The way to the building is clear, hurry up!" I told him.

Even though I was an agent, I also had military training, so my movement on the street was more like a soldier, a commando, than an agent. I also tried to watch the windows, street corners, vehicles left outside, to see if any enemies appeared. But none of this happened until we reached the entrance. I opened it and gestured with a military gesture for the man to go ahead, and I followed. At the building, the lobby was completely empty, and from here there was a staircase and lifts leading up.

"If it's not a secret, what was your mission here that left you stranded in the middle of the battlefield without reinforcements and support?" I asked him.

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Kaleth Temple
Interacting with: Aris Noble Aris Noble | Braze Braze | Lord Kalrath Lord Kalrath | Denn Verdan Denn Verdan

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The sensation of freefall returned, twisting Zaiya's stomach in anxious knots as Aris collapsed, bringing her down with him. Though the fall wasn't far, the suddenness of Aris's unconsciousness startled her.

"Agh!" Zaiya cried out in pain as she hit the ground first, slipping off Aris's shoulder when his arm went slack. A dull ache spread along her side, followed by the heavy thud of Aris slumping onto her, completely unconscious. Panic shot through her, freezing her in place as she stared wide-eyed at him.

"Aris?" Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper, rising in pitch at his stillness.

"Aris!" Zaiya scrambled, her colors dimming as horrifying panic rippled through her in pale yellow and silver.

Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead.

The words raced through Zaiya's mind as she scrambled onto her hands and knees, her jewelry jingling with her ragged breaths.

"Please be okay," She couldn't bear to lose someone again, not when she had just made a new friend. Her eyes began to pinprick as she reached out to check his breathing. He was so pale. So still -- until finally, his chest rose and fell. Relief flooded through her.

"Aris! Oh, thank the stars! Aris, wake up!" Zaiya exclaimed, shaking him none too gently in her rush, but he remained unresponsive. With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she knew they had to leave quickly. Her eyes searched for Braze Braze , her breathing ragged. Alarm once again shot through her in pale daffodil hues as she saw him facing off with Lord Kalrath Lord Kalrath . There was still a dark miasma that seemed to radiate from the grisly Twi'lek as if barely held together by it. It only caused a sickening, nauseating twist in Zaiya's belly, dampening her mottled spots into a dark, smoky tan hue with lime green highlights.

"Braze!" she called out, scared of what was happening. She watched the younger teen slash and attack his opponent, only for the Twi'lek to take a fighting stance in preparation.

This wasn't good. It didn't feel right. This was bad! Dread filled her once more, and she was frightened of what might come.

"Braze, we need to go!" Struggling to her feet, Zaiya tried to lift Aris, her knees buckling under his weight. She mentally cursed her Dresh lineage, which made her physically weaker than humans. With great effort, she managed to loop his arm around her shoulders and stagger away, but she soon realized she wasn't strong enough.

Zaiya's face drained of color as she faltered under his weight, the realization sinking that she couldn't do this alone. Mind racing, she tried to think of what could be done. Iridescent blue eyes latched onto the hovering Seszil in desperation. An idea immediately came to mind.

"Seszil, can you help me carry him? Maybe help me prop him up? I can't do it by myself."

Robe and cool jewelry | BCA - Solid State Hologram Tool Band | The Babysitter Droid AKA - Nana *Zapped for now

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Location: Tython, Kaleth Temple
Objective: 3
Allies: NSO, Knights of Ren, Dark Side Elite
Enemies: Jedi: Jonyna Si Jonyna Si Taam Moghul Taam Moghul
Equipment: Ren Lightsaber, Orbalisk Armor

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Detritus would stand his ground, pain racked his saber arm, as he felt the blistering of what skin remained, while his blood trickle slowly to the ground. Still did the Master of Ren didn't give in so easily. He would use the blistering pain to fuel the rage from within as he gripped the Ren tightly within his fingertips. He watched as his barrage of rocks and metal would pelt the Jedi Knights before him. He had watched as how the barrage would delay the duo if only briefly. The parasites would continue to bite into him, while pumping various acidic fluids within his own body. Some of the fluid was meant to subside the pain, while the rest would increase the intensity of the pain as he stood as rocky as a boulder. Ready to face whatever would come for him next, his pain only fueling his rage, his power.

With his crackling blade raised would Detritus watch as the Jedi Knights came around for another strike towards him. On one side could he see the Cathar Woman come towards him. Much to Detritus's own excitement would he see the woman try to hit him with a combined barrage of fire and lightning. The other Cathar Male would try to flank with his great blade in hand, and surrounded by a shield. Both of them were coming at him at the same time. Detritus would stand still, his eyes focusing on each one as both attacks aimed right for him. Seeing the direction of the woman's attacks, and the man who tried to engage him blade for blade. Detritus would exhale slowly, as he would let the dark side empowered by the Orbalisks would spread through his form.

In that moment the attacks seemed slower to him. As if time has froze in just this moment when in reality he was seconds away from this attack. Detritus looked to the Male at first, as the beast rushed towards him with sword and shield. Just as he was about to connect his blade with the crackling, fiery saber would Detritus do something unexpected. Right at the moment of impact would Detritus deactivate his blade, using the male's own forward momentum against him. Detritus would breathe once again, pain and darkness coursing through his veins as he crouched slightly. As the Cathar Male would lean forward from the momentum of a strike that didn't connect, would Detritus grab him, his palms on the man's fur as if guiding where the momentum would land.

Detritus would let out another exhale, as his eyes shifted to the combined strikes of fire and lightening coming his way. He was mere seconds from taking the blast, before in a sudden burst of speed would Detritus take the falling momentum of the Cathar male, and use the shifting weight through the palm against his chest, to guide him in front of him. Detritus would use the forward momentum to catch the male off guard, as he used his own attack against him, placing him in the path of both fire and lightening coming towards the Master of Ren. Then with sheer ferocity behind his yellow eyes would Detritus use the Dark Side to push the Cathar man in front of his mate's own attack. The added push would send him right in her direction in an attempt to crash right into both fire and lightening as well as into his mate. "Pitiful Jedi." Detritus would say his tone filled with disgust.
 
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Location: Tython, Evacuation Platform
Allies: NSO, Knights of Ren, Dark Side Elite
Enemies: Jedi: Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el
Equipment: Lightsaber, Stygian Codex


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Kaleb had anxiously heeded the Holocron's eerie words as he raised shards, pieces of junk, metal and supplies were lifted through the Force in a direction that once released, would fly towards the refugees inflicting great harm upon the innocent, and weak that would try to leave. Kaleb initially felt off about such an action, but the sweet suggestion as brought on by the Holocron was a sound choice, for he wished to take revenge for being hunted, cast out for he sought to be a greater Jedi than any of his order. He told himself that much as he raised the junk with his strength in the Force, immediately could he sense a shift in the man. What was once a cautious warning, had now become threatening as the man would activate his saber, in a brief moment could Kaleb sense the man's intent.

The storm was right on top of them. The clouds were darkened, the winds only kept howling, the thunder was roaring, and lightning struck down with a fury unlike any other. In that moment would Kaleb dropped the mass of debris ready to be unleashed. Quickly would he grip his hilt of his lightsaber. His emerald blade igniting with a sharp hiss as it moved to contain the man's blade against his own in a flash of sparks and light. Quickly the air was mixed with rain, death, and the ionized air brought on by the ignition and clashing of Lightsabers. "Now that's more like it!" Kaleb said excitedly, as he gripped his saber tightly, using his strength to drive back the Jedi that attempted to stop him. Kaleb would jump away from his position, only to stand a couple feet from the Jedi Master before him.

Through thunderous roars and the crackling of lightning would Kaleb stand with his saber. This moment felt all too familiar to the training dojos of the Jedi Temple. This felt like another spar between him and his peers. This time it would be very different, this time it would be a real duel. Kaleb would let out a sharp exhale, both hands gripping the hilt of his green saber as he eyed his foe, pacing a little once more as he held his blade in a Jedi Battle Ready stance. His blade was raised as there was a sudden pause to the flashes of lightning and roars of thunder.

An arrogant smirk appeared on Kaleb's lips as he slowly advanced on the man with his saber ready. "Don't worry. I promise to give you a Jedi funeral worthy of such respect." Kaleb would say before he would begin the opening. He would rush towards his foes, crying in a battle yell as he raised his saber to strike aggressively. His first moves were probing strikes to gage what this man would do, his Jedi teachings still holding him back to a degree. Just as the blades of Jedi would clash would drops of rain begin to fall from the harshness of the storm above them.​

 
"If all you desire is suffering, then you are lost. You've been consumed by the Dark Side."
"I will do my best not to harm you."
"If begging you will make you reconsider, if that is something that would please you, then I beg you to let me evacuate this place.
If not, and if the attacking force is repelled, then I will do my best to get you the help you need."

Aziraphale Aziraphale

Denn Verdan Denn Verdan

Aziraphale's response came as an unexpected shockwave through the battle filled air. His laughter, initially laced with dark anticipation, morphed into something else entirely at Denn's words. The very notion seemed to tickle him, a concept so alien and amusing that it pierced even the shroud of his malevolence. With a suddenness that was disarming, the light whip hissed into silence, its threatening glow extinguished as Aziraphale deftly secured it back onto his belt.

Then, in a movement that was almost tender, one of his large, blackened wings reached out. Aziraphale stepped forward, closing the distance between them with a few, deliberate strides. The wing, a dark appendage that had seemed so ominous moments ago, now moved to wrapped around Denn in an embrace that was bewildering in its gentleness. This 'wing hug,' as it might be called, was moving to envelope Denn in a cocoon that was unexpectedly warm and protective.

"Alright, sure. You've convinced me, new buddy," Aziraphale declared, his voice carrying a tone of amusement. This sudden pivot from threat to ally, from darkness to a bewildering sort of friendship, may have felt... concerning.
 



EMPRESS TETA

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“Drink sounds great, although unless you’vre got more alcohol down here we’re going to fly through that smaller bottle.”

Pulling out his comm, he took a seat on the couch,leaving his jacket on. He could already tell it was going to be cold down here due to the nature of them being so far down. Perhaps a fine temperature for someone who was used to a more temperate planet. He was working on contacting Ellie back, worried if they lost Dark Net communication she would just turn into a nervous wreck.

“Come on Ellie, pick up…”

Couldn’t even get the words completely out before the heiress answered, diving into her questioning.

“Makai?! Where are you? Are you okay?!

“Castie’s bunker, it's surprisingly nice down here.I’m a little pissed but fine.” A slight pause, listening. “You’re good?”

“I’m fine, what's going on?What happened? Is Casteel okay?”


For him, it was clear she was not fine. Makai wouldn’t be either in a similar position.Thus far, he didn’t hear any panic creeping into her voice, which was a positive.

“One minute we’re eating and enjoying a bit of male bonding and the next we’re being bombed. Supposedly they warned civilians, I didn’t get a warning…Castie is fine, I’m staring at him right now.”

At that Casteel twisted his lips in wry amusement and held up the cognac at the bottom of their supply crate.He began to rummage around for the lowball glasses brought along as well.

“Okay, I’m trying to get details on what is going on.Contacting some of Daddy’s contacts. Maybe I can find a way to get you both out of there..”


“Ellie, I don’t think anyone or anything is getting out right now.Putting ATC contacts at risk isn’t ideal.As much as I want to come home, this may be a sit and wait situation.”

“But maybe I can –”

“Castie has an emergency ship down here. Once the planetary shield falls and the dust settles I guarantee Castie and I are headed out.”

“But what if it takes days or weeks?”


“....Let’s not think about that right now. Just focus on the positive. I’m alive.Castie is alive. Its going to be okay.”


“I just worry…I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He attempted to make a lame joke about the entire situation. “I’m just too damn pretty to die. So don’t worry. I’ll be sending updates the entire time. Promise.”

“Every hour. No. Every half-hour.”

“Every half hour it is.”

“Okay…okay…I…That’s good.”

“Love you, just…please don’t worry.”

“I love you too. Be safe.”

“You too.”

Ending the call, Makai set about setting a reminder for every half-hour to remind him to give an update to Ellie. Some may have called it overkill, but it was more prudent to make her feel at ease than worry. They had fallen into a routine of over communication, something that worked for them but not necessarily understood by others.

“Well, she’s worried. I hope she doesn’t try to come here herself. She did that when we first started to date . Virus outbreak on Amuund. I love seeing her but I worried the entire time. On the bright side, that's where we got the virus that so mysteriously afflicted Blythe. Shame he was the only one that caught that, especially after that horrible accident."

Casteel Mer'taal Casteel Mer'taal


 


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"Keep the sheath strapped to him."

Seszil spoke calmly as the chaos of the scream and Aris's unconscious state settled. The sword had been unaffected by the yell, protectively hovering close to both Aris and Zaiya. But now they needed to move, and it was clear Aris wasn't going to wake up just yet. Seszil returned to the sheath, lifting Aris up by the strap. Or, more accurately, helping Zaiya do the same.

Aris, on the other hand, started to stir. The ringing in his head pulled him from unconsciousness. Groggily he opened his eyes as he was carried before he spoke. "Are you okay?" Not that the words reached his ears. He was certain he'd said something by the feeling alone, but he couldn't hear them. Or the war outside. Or the others. Ah. The ringing in his head hadn't gone away.

"I can't hear."

He spoke aloud again, mostly to confirm that he couldn't hear his own words. Had the scream blown his eardrums out? That was a possibility. He shifted to stand on his own as he reached up to touch his ears. There was a little blood, pain. He grimaced, but at least it meant it wouldn't work again. Though now he didn't have his hearing.

Without feeling the Force, he needed all his senses to fight properly. He glanced towards Zaiya before looking back towards where Braze was. The Sith had seemed to ignore them. He was after Braze, pure and simple. They could escape with ease, then. His expression thinned as he lowered his voice to what he hoped was a whisper.

"We can't leave Braze behind. That man wants him. Can you do that light again? Just nod, I think I won't be able to hear for a while."

He looked back to Zaiya. His expression was filled with determination. If the Sith wanted to ignore them, then they needed to take advantage of it, before he screamed again.

"When Braze clashes with him, blind him, then run. I'll make sure Braze can get away."

Braze Braze | Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti | Lord Kalrath Lord Kalrath
 


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Adeline Noctua
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Phineas could practically taste the slick on the air, almost visible was the jet black shroud about the hangar. He pushed it to the back of his mind, each body cut down before him seeming only to fuel the evil here - evil it was, there was no mistaking it. As his footfalls brought him to a corridor he paused, taking a moment to gather himself and survey the mess behind him one last time. This is it. Press onward.

As his foot stepped beyond the threshold he felt a slight pull at the nape of his neck, throwing his back swiftly up against the bulkhead. A flutter and flurry of black creatures flew by, screeching and squeaking as they dissipated into the void of the hangar behind. Releasing a held breath and frowning, Phineas muttered to himself. Turning back to what he could only describe as chaos, his eyes tried to make meaning of the corridor before him. Though he stood silently, his mind was hard at work. Hallucinogens? Toxins? Tapping into the Force he knew his own body to be clear of any infection - no this was something more sinister than a chemical reaction.

The Jedi moved to step forward when suddenly everything had changed. Blinking hard, he assumed a defensive stance, taking in his new surroundings... What is this... What sorcery is this...

Seconds passed before he noticed the figure of a woman, seated at a desk only a few meters ahead. The ship had seemingly disappeared, the oppressive darkness felt only moments before now replaced with an almost sickening comfort as the flames flickered and cast shadows along the walls. Phineas fought the urge to question his surroundings, to question what exactly was happening and instead focused on the here, the now, what lay before him. Or, more properly, sat. Dark fabrics, a helm. The Jedi didn't have to ask what that was meant to imply.

Setting his jaw, the unnerving tones of her voice reached his ears. He stared intently at the woman's faceplate as he assumed a more nimble stance, content to listen as he reached out through the Force, taking in his surroundings and seeking them for anything he could. Anything that might clue him in to a hidden hand moving beyond his physical perception. As the woman's words trailed off he cocked his head to the side.

"A deal," he shook his head, almost bemusedly. "And what deal does this devilish consort offer?"

Phineas knew there were costs, knew there were risks, knew there were consequences - but he needed to keep the woman talking while he figured out his next course of action. Had the woman known him, she might have suspected such an offer was futile. Dedicated to the cause of the Jedi, dedicated to saving life, Phineas was a bladesman first, a philosopher second. He was however, curious to see what the woman wanted, what there was to gain by engaging these hapless vacationers. The real fight was out there.. well, out in space, on the planet's surface, good versus evil. Face to face, fist to fist, not whatever this was.

"Why all this?" he motioned around himself. "What purpose does all this server?"

Part of him genuinely wanted to know, the other seeking more time, more information.





 

TEARS OF ASHLA
objective 2

Location: Aboard the NIV Predator.
Tags: Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen Zethran Cott Zethran Cott Ignacious Korvan Ignacious Korvan Sinestra Sinestra Reiner Ghadi Reiner Ghadi Cessair Ideon Cessair Ideon Auteme Auteme Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe Arla Rodarch Arla Rodarch

Equipment in bio.

Open for interaction.

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"It is acceptable yes." Sularen said. "Your presence here is much appreciated Lord Ptolemis." the Grand Admiral added. As Sularen finished, another individual would proceed to join the Grand Admiral and the Sith Lord on the bridge, asking Sularen if there were any security breaches on the bridge.

Lord Ptolemis' head rocked rather slowly as he listened to the Admiral, whose curt pleasantries further reinforced the Sith Lord's positive views about the man; no-nonsense and wasting no time, as it befits a Grand Admiral of the DARK EMPIRE. He might even see a future where the two of them work closer together.

Lord Ptolemis' foul spirit still lingered in the air, feeding on the stresses of those around him. Then, a well-armored Mirialan exited the turbolift and was immediately enveloped by the invisible limbs of the Blasphemer's psyche. Calmly, Ptolemis tilted his head as she approached. He sensed her strong connection to the Dark Side immediately, and a touch of something… or someone greater than both of them. The answer to "who," or "what" will have to wait for now.

Following the conclusion of the exchange between Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen and Sinestra Sinestra , the Sith Lord takes a few steps toward the viewport and turns his maroon gaze outward, into the dark-dark space he knows so well. Let them speak, he thinks. He shall stay away from the logistics of naval combat – instead, he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and focuses on the battle ahead. With this deep breath he re-centers himself, his vampiric connection to those around him detaching and sliding back into his mind...

...As he exhales and opens his eyes, his very soul is explosively beamed outward with faster-than-light speed, jumping from rock to asteroid, from pebble to particle, only coming to rest as it enters an unassuming shadow on the bridge of the ALLIANCE ONE Auteme Auteme . Valuable seconds pass as the intrusive shadow observes its surroundings – perhaps it will learn something useful… Perhaps it will be detected before it does.

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Matriarch of the Scar Hounds Tribe
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Information
Objective: To try to hunt down Solipsis
Location: Ground, Tython
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom | Ring of Wishes and Dreams || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Tags: N/A
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Ziare Dyarron | Freedom


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Sometimes I think I am the unluckiest person in the Galaxy. On the one hand, maybe if I was lucky I would have had a sniper rifle and might have been able to kill not only Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis , but also the Sword and Shield of the Jedi, namely Valery Noble Valery Noble and Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble . But I couldn't do it that way, because they were too far away and my damn simple rifle shot couldn't kill a Space Wizard even by surprise. As for getting in close enough to assassinate them at close range, well, I was separated from them by hundreds of metres and a lot of fighters. Next time, I need to be better prepared to get close to Solipsis and hack the systems in advance to find out exactly where it will be.

Then I could be there before or at the same time as him and the assassination would be much easier. I think I'd also need a device or something to hide my presence in the Force; thanks to Freedom, I knew that people could be felt even if they weren't Force users. I didn't want them to know I was there prematurely. There was one problem with these thoughts, as there often is with plans. As I explained when I first arrived, they often don't happen as planned. No matter, I was prepared to give my life to kill him anyway. True, it would have been best if only he had died, but I reckoned there was a chance that only I would die.

After all, I didn't fight that many actual Force Users; it was Tu'teggacha's elite guards that I did, but I had the Manifold to help me there. I instructed MANIAC with a single thought to call Thomas Barran Thomas Barran for me. He was the only person here at Realspace who knew what my plans were, why I was back. Once I had the connection, I would continue to talk to him in my mind; I loved this feature of my biochip, that it could transmit thoughts as voice or text messages.

<< Tommy, it's Mercy. I managed to find Solipsis on Tython. I'm about three hundred and fifty metres away. My "only" problem is that I'm facing the two damn Nobles, not to mention the fact that I'm separated from them by a whole battlefield and I don't have a sniper rifle! >> I snarled rather nervously and grumpily into the communication channel.

I don't know if he's going to be happy that I probably didn't get myself killed today, because it's pretty clear from my words that I'm not really going to be able to get to where they are. If only because three hundred and fifty didn't actually sound like that many, but on a battlefield with countless Force Users fighting each other and even soldiers, it must have seemed like an eternity. Even if I choose a cloaking device and I try to get through the distance invisibly. The only solution would have been a jetpack, but I don't really think there is a cloaking device that could even conceal a jetpack. I mean, it could, but I could certainly custom order one for Nite or HPI.

Sometimes it's good, if over the last twenty-five years I've come to be a member of the Nite inner council, the six people who govern and lead it. Because of my current residency, I have overseen and directed the missions and tasks of the Netherworld. Because of that, I was home a lot, so to speak, and I was mostly reading files. It was the least I could do to keep Asher out of danger. He's the reason I took this on and I didn't just stay an agent running around over there with assignments. Except this is my last mission here in Realspace, to finally get revenge on everyone who got Asher killed or hurt…

<< I will try to get across the battlefield and get to him, wish me luck! >> I said to Thomas Barran Thomas Barran in a cheerful tone, as if I wasn't rushing to my own death.

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Be careful what you wish for.
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jyaiC11hj0vTFymnS1xpmEoUDsKIVCJvhVnRFw_vp43MOhRageo3iE3PEzX-2uasflZ331UaHehuXWUc-BiZFrwYYyVcRXoPXFn4-mt0lEyTH_xJDiqcLanfj3YG7GtCj83WXd57JRhRPdrMzjFyh18
Location: Tython - Reaching the Elarian Trail, just outside Kaleth
TAG ALLIES: Elias Edo
TAG ENEMIES: Maestus
"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)
"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, HK-88 (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)
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[*All Posts happen after this thread ]

He did not need to repeat himself as another combat shuttle came roaring in. Weapons fire blasting at the target(Caltin) maybe to hit him, maybe just to keep him distracted. Either way, the massive Jedi Master redirected many of the cannon shots, at least the ones that would have hit him. Two shots slammed into nearby TIE fighters, one hit a stomping charging Sith born beast. The shuttle did its job though, the strike team rappelled to the ground and moved into an attack position. Caltin saw them and paid them little mind. Right now, he was busy centering the Force in his arms and “pushed” the shuttle into an uncontrollable flat spin right into another descending Sith transport. Now he had to deal with the Twi’Lek Sith and the Strike team.

These guys were (censored) good at their job, before he knew it, fire teams were setting up and the “breach” troopers were moving on him. Normally the big man would say something here about them making a mistake, but this wasn’t normal. Charging into a sprint, two of the three moving on him were cut down. One of the snipers was immobilized and “thrown” at two of the gunners and the lead officer was now centimeters from his lightsaber.

Run.

As the remnants of the strike team “suddenly found a new objective”, Vanagor turned his direction to the Sith who had been watching the entire time.

So much for not repeating myself.
 

"My original title and rank is Torture and Interrogation Agent and Officer; my job was to track down, capture, torture for information, and then kill a high-ranking Galactic Alliance politician. Unfortunately, the cowardly worm left the planet in the first minutes of the invasion, so I was transferred here to assist in your rescue, Agent." I said to the man. "So, because of the original task, I am in full gear."

"That is... quite the title," I half muttered a reply as we quickly crossed the street away from the safehouse and she told me to hurry up. She was right, and she seemed to know, or at least was more confident, about navigating the streets of a battlefield. What exactly the advantage of the building she'd led me into was I couldn't say. My practical, on the ground training was formation-fighting and the burden of command, and I'd traded my time in CompForce for an agent position, and my true skills showed. People. Empty buildings were not people. Advancing armies were not people, not in the sense you could talk them down.

"If it's not a secret, what was your mission here that left you stranded in the middle of the battlefield without reinforcements and support?" I asked him.

"If the details are a secret I've done a terrible job. The whole shitstorm rolling in around us was my mission, and I thought we'd succeeded. We planted the seeds of revolt on Teta, but the grass grew a little too fast and high for the Alliance. That's about as much as I can say. I'm half expecting this outcome was intended, since the Empire's got its military into the Core one way or another, right?" I strode across the lobby to the elevator, and pressed the button. Power was still on in this part of the city, so I figured we'd make use of it until an artillery barrage changed those circumstances for us.

My explanation, if somewhat cryptic, was the best I could give. I was still trying to make sense of it myself. At this point I was certain the return to Imperial space was going to be filled with hard lessons from my betters regardless of whether this outcome was intended or not. Here I was, seeming as though I was holding the bag...
 

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The Shopping District
Empress Teta - Cinnagar
Interacting with: Makai Dashiell Makai Dashiell


"Never underestimate her determination; she might still find her way to Teta," Casteel cautioned Makai, pouring a generous three fingers of cognac into each lowball glass. After six years with Myra as her Companion, the Anaxai was well-versed in navigating her more stubborn tendencies. The woman could be as unyielding as any he'd ever encountered.

"Check in every half hour and emphasize the potential harm her presence could cause you. That just might cause her to pause an appeal to her sense of reason." Casteel advised, acknowledging the need for a strategic approach when dealing with Myra's impulsive nature. Manipulative? Certainly. But Casteel knew that logic had no place when Myra's emotions were running hot, and she began to spiral.

"In light of Alric's passing, she may be more prone to rash decisions," he added, placing the bottle of cognac back on the table before offering one of the glasses to Makai.

"Now, aside from getting properly leathered, any thoughts on how to make the most of our time together?" he inquired with a charismatic smile, ready to seize the moment despite the uncertainty ahead.


 
Tags: Vulpesen Vulpesen

Disaster was imminent. Having failed to break her opponents concentration Darth Ayra turned as the Force Shield was slowly peeled away from Vulpesen's powers in the Force. Arcing her body around to the temple walls Ayra launched her Lightsaber blade in a Saberthrow towards one of the ramparts supporting the ceiling. With a swift and decisive slice through the rampart the Lightsaber returned to her hand as a sound screeched through the temple that even those without guidance in the Force would know something awful was about to happen.

Cracks instantly appeared across the ceiling and begun to zig zag it's way through as the area Vulpesen and Ayra were duelling in lost it's support. As the ceiling itself begun to cave in- raining debris down towards both of them- Ayra propelled herself with the Force to launch herself out of the way of the pelting rock and stone that made up the temple's structure. Gliding through the air Ayra deactivated her Lightsaber and disappeared into the darkness of the night, her presence in the Force disappearing through the technique of Art of the Small, as she leapt out of a crevice formed in one of the Temple's walls from the damaged caused by the surrounding battle.

Drained- both physically, and in the Force- Vulpesen had forced the Sith Lord to flee their duel, and in doing so, won. But as Ayra disappeared into the night- as Kaleth was torn down around him- would he see it that way?
 
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Elise Vizsla
Mandalorian Protector.
Student of Mia Monroe .
Pupil of Siyarr Ahan-Mitharran .
Third Dreamrune of the Novanian Shamans.
Alor'ad of Vercopa Squad.
Dreamseer.


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Equipment
ArmorBeskar'gam.
Melee Weapons
Copad'kal, "Ambition", personal Mandalorian Kal.
Tar'Nau, Bes'manda Beskad.
The Royal Dragon, lightsaber.
Kada'yr, Mandalorian Kal.
Breshig War Forge Consolidated K-02M Kal.
Iviin'cer, beskar spear.
Pistols
KSTR-20 Borealis Heavy Blaster Pistol.
ENCL-21 Ra'ntisr Heavy Blaster Pistol.
Mandalorian Ripper Pistol MK.II.
Seeds
Mother's Root.
Ori'ramikad Tree.
Chakaar Weed.
Creepervine.

Squadron Text Colors:
- Elise Vizsla: Red.
- Olivia Vizsla: Crimson.
- Ori'ramikad Rodarch: Lime.
- Choruk Ordo: Light Blue.
- Vhekad Rook: Brown.
- Dinui Krayt: Orange.
- Azalea Rodarch: Pink.


Cyan colored text indicates an illusion.

Rath Nihro Rath Nihro

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She should have realized it is earlier. The true nature of her opponent. The sword's siphoning, the absorbed soul. But as Elise watched on, still reeling from the lightning, it all made sense. As her rapid-grown plants dissipated, as she felt the energy transfers between the plants, the enemy, and even the planet itself, it clicked.

This man was a Force Thief.

She gritted her teeth. This man was a Force Thief... and she had just given him a buffet to devour. This wasn't good. As all the wounds she inflicted healed, and as she recovered from the lightning, she contemplated her options. She never should have fallen back on the Force, she should have used her Mandalorian equipment and martial arts from the beginning. Even if she switched her tactic to Mandalorian equipment now, he still had a large meal to consume in the plants surrounding them. As some of the mighty trees withered and disintegrated around them, Elise looked down to her sparking gauntlet. Her one arm's Mandalorian Vambrace was fried, and she didn't want to risk the instability of the rest of her suit's technology. If more malfunctions cropped up because of that shock...

The image of a familiar mask flashed in her memory's eye.

She had to use... that.

She audibly sighed, finally standing up as she gazed around. A glint of yellow shone, catching her eye. She sensed the familiar Force Signature of a Kyber Crystal. And approached, looking down at a golden gem and a shattered locket. The wayward Vizsla looked upon the shattered picture, and she remembered the deaths of her father, aunt, and mother. Removing her buy'ce, she looked down at the picture with a grieving, burdened expression. She had lost so much... and for what? The galaxy was still crumbling around her. The galaxy was still dying, just like these plants, and consumed by something stronger. She looked down at the locket... and she clenched her fist.

She could not, would not, stand for it. She failed time and time again to save those in need, but she had to keep trying. It was the only way she could rebel against this cruel galaxy. The red tattoos on her neck and face were a stark contrast to the greens and browns surrounding them. She looked over to the man, wearing a visible scowl.

"Do you think that your suffering justifies being so vile as to join the Dark Empire? The remnants of the Maw?"

She narrowed her eyes, they started to glow with ethereal energy. The image of another person consumed by hate, her own sister, crossed her mind as she gritted her teeth. "You are mistaken."

Her eyes glowed even more, as her biorestorative underlay pumped even more of the same substance her tattoos were made of into her. The tattoos on her entire body glowed, though it was only visible from the neck up. She was doing it. She was falling back on the powers of the Ancient Ones.

She closed her eyes, "Arr'Huwal. Preserve me."

She opened her eyes again, glaring directly at her enemy. Her voice echoed across the entire glade, as if coming from all directions.

"Your leeching of the innocent ends here."
"Your leeching of the innocent ends here."

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Equipment
i m a g i n a t i o n - i s - t h e - l i m i t


t h i s - p o s t - i s - a n - i l l u s i o n

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The entire atmosphere changed. The sky turned blood red, as the modern world faded into an ever consuming, red mist. The trees waved and bent in swirling, unnatural displayed. All around them, everywhere outside the glade, they were surrounded by pools of a red, rich, iron smelling liquid. Standing where she stood before, Elise was wearing a different outfit. A tribal dress flowed in the hot, parched winds. Her entire body glowed with her Novanian tattoos. Her eyes glowed, bright as a lighthouse in a foggy sea. She lifted one hand, pointing at the man before her.

"You're in my world now. Thief. Do you know what I do to crimimals, to thieves who harm others?"

She pointed her finger at him.

"I give them the punishment they deserve. Nine lashes."

From the ground, nine powerful, large, whiplike roots exploded upwards. Thorns glistened on their boisterous, strong skin as they all soared towards the enemy, intending on giving him those nine lashes… but at a far grander, more brutally wounding degree.

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Elise stood still, focusing on her illusion landscape. The Mother's Root was doing wonderfully in helping her focus on a living dreamscape, but this was one of the few times she had done this without her opponent being infected with the sacred plant as well. She did not want to risk him absorbing its strength. Still, her increasing strength in the Force was bolstering her strength in this. The dreamscape, though entirely an illusion with no basis in reality, would feel, taste, and feel like a real thing. Like a deep dreaming sleep, like a night terror, the feeling would be so real. It felt real. And any pain inflicted would feel real.

As the nine roots were deployed in the Dreamscape, Elise opened her eyes to reality. Her plan was to immobilize him in the Dreamscape. Meanwhile, in reality, she would make her move to end the fight here. She extended her fingers, pulsing her Dreamseer Blessing into her fingertips. As mystical, blue energy swirled around her, she darted for the enemy, bolting past the kyber crystal and locket. She extended her arm, aiming a simple touch to his center of mass, his chest. All she needed was one touch, one touch, and he would be rendered truly unconscious.

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Location: Tython, Forests around Kaleth
Objective: III
Opponent: Darth Howl Darth Howl
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Hearing the Sith point out the anger within disarmed Ko for a brief moment. Encouraging the padawan to embrace it before speaking some motto he was unfamiliar with. To him it sounded like the opposite of the first line of the Jedi Code. Internally Ko was unprepared over what was occurring. In his years training as a Jedi he hadn’t really ever been trained or lectured on the real dangers of letting emotion guide his actions. He often had to come to his own conclusions about the psychological aspects of being a Jedi. Using the code as a benchmark and his own experiences to refine it.

The closest thing in his life to this moment was the time he lost his eyes, and had his body and mind clouded by a poison that saw him tap into a negative part of himself. Although he was not in control of himself then and it was only for a moment. Now he was fully cognizant, and responsible for his behavior.

But there wasn't time for him to even think about these things. Especially as the sithpsawn was set ablaze with a quick flash of lightning. All but cementing the botanical beast’s fate regardless of what Ko did next. The flaming monster took his attention once more as he heard Howl speak about horrific inevitabilities for himself and his peers. Reinforcing the visions Ko saw when he drank the elder Kel Dor’s tarnished tea.

As the burning club-like branches crashed down towards Ko the padawan met it with one of his hands as he held his blade. Undoing his thumb and index finger as he did so. Conjuring an invisible shield to hold back its fiery body from slamming him into the ground. He could feel the intense heat caressing his body and burning parts of his robes. Next, without any restraint Ko unleashed a telekinetic explosion from within himself out towards the monster. Creating a pressure wave strong enough to blow the sithspawn apart into a spectacular array of bright smoldering embers. For the two of them, the smoke filling the air was of little concern. Their antiox masks keeping it out of their lungs.

Ko had grown a bit upset over learning about his knack for using The Force in such a blunt devastating manner. It contrasted a great deal with his identity as a cultivator and provider. He also better understood why Valery didn’t want him practicing such techniques at the NJO temple.

Snapping his attention back to the Sith, Ko observed their posture. Seeing that they still desired Ko to be at their side. The padawan straightened his posture. Perhaps Howl was right, maybe he wasn’t strong enough to stop such a terrible fate. However. “I refuse to forsake my principles.” Ko replied sternly. “Even if it’s unavoidable, it’ll never justify turning my back on the Jedi and my responsibilities.” The padawan explained further. Plenty of Jedi in the past have fallen to the tricks of prophecy, Ko did not wish to join those ranks.

For a Kel Dor like Ko, there was a right way to do things and wrong way. He had no interest in entertaining any grayness in his black and white morals. That would just be a distraction from what was just and needed to be done. The preservation of himself and those he loved was NOT justification for indulging in the Darkside and villainy! Even though there was anger within him at this moment. It was nothing compared to the years of stubborn righteousness he has fostered. Letting it's root settle deep within his soul. As a Kel Dor, Howl should've expected such a response.
 




Braze landed on his feet, his breathing slightly labored yet more alert than just moments before. A loud ringing dominated his ears, transforming Kalrath's voice into a muffled echo, as if Braze were submerged underwater, his adversary's words filtering through the liquid barrier. With a practiced twist of his blade, Braze executed a flourish, drawing the weapon up in a formal salute—an acknowledgment of the duel's continuation.

Then, channeling his relentless quick draw practice, Braze unleashed a lightning-fast lunge. His movement, honed by endless drills, was a blur—a strike aimed directly at his opponent's heart. Propelled by the Force, his speed was unnatural, breaking through the air with the ferocity and precision of a predator. This decisive attack, fueled by both skill and the enhancement of the Force, promised a swift confrontation, aiming to bring the duel to a rapid and definitive close.

He had to stall for the others to escape. He had to stay the course.
 



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D E V O U R

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Engaged: Elise Ahana-Gwyneira Elise Ahana-Gwyneira

To do what he had to do, to face monsters so infused with the Force that they were living entities. Or those who were on the verge of becoming something more that no mere mortal had the right to claim. Rath had to become the very monster that could best those who thought themselves to be immortal. To rise from a man who only held a mere fragment of power that he currently possessed, Rath had to become the Force Thief. To become the Eternal Empire’s Shadow.

In the past, Rath had gone from one nightmare to the next, from one battlefield to the next, and one Sith Lord to the next. Any enemy of the Eternal Empire that Rath was sent after had been eliminated without prejudice or exceptions. But after he had finally caught a glimpse of a life without fighting. A life without war. A life without becoming the bringer of death. Rath was willing to accept it as that. Yet the Force itself had other plans for him.

The dark warrior merely blinked at the Mandalorian before he lowered his hand. ”Is that what you think?” He calmly questioned, yet his voice carried over the glade as she began to build up some sort of primal form of Force energy. The way it was channeled through her body was certainly different, and while there was certainly a taint to it as the faint scent of decay and sulfur lingered in the air. Yet it wasn’t exactly on the Light side either.

”It matters little of what form of justification any of us use. This is merely the result of every war that has been waged. War breeds death, death breeds suffering, and suffering breeds more war. It is a vicious cycle that the galaxy has yet to break. For they can only postpone it before the Force decides to bring the conflict to us.” With a point of his finger from the free hand towards Elise’s direction just before her illusion could be complete.

”You, of all people, should know that.” Yet his words likely would go unheard as Elise was determined to put an end to him. With the last words he heard from the warrior, Rath found himself in a different world entirely.

In the illusion…

Eyes of yellow flickered at the surroundings as the sky had turned into a shade of red. The air was filled with a very familiar scent of fresh blood being spilled. Except that Rath noticed that he was standing in the midst of the pool. The trees swayed and bent to unnatural degrees as the swirling red mist obscured sight.

What Elise needed was to be the Hero of this story, and unfortunately Rath just happened to be the one that would grant her as such. This wasn’t exactly what the Force had shown him, but it was close enough for the dark warrior to see the resemblance. Rath found himself garbed not in his armor, but in a simple dark tunic with blood covered boots. He heard the words from the shaman, and Rath felt the power all around him. Yet his mind was not focused on survival in this case.

”Only nine lashes?” Rath questioned in a mocking tone before he received one brutal lash from the whip-like root. He grimaced as he staggered from the notable shredded lash on his skin. ”Do not talk like you know of me.” He was abruptly interrupted when a lash across his jaw caused an audible pop sound to be heard. The dark warrior merely grabbed his slack jaw before popping it back into his socket. The pain was evident on his expression and body. Yet his willpower was astounding enough to not ignore the pain, but to consume it as fuel for the dark side.

”You do not know my story, what I’ve done.” A third lash across his back that sliced through his cloth and caused him to stagger forward. ”So spare me your sense of justice.” Then came the forth across his left arm, this time so much force was put into it that Rath felt his arm become severed as he saw his arm flew off into the glade. His eyes witnessed how the severed limb sunk into the pool’s depths.

Then came the rest of the lashes, each just as brutal as the last, yet the entire time Rath would only focus on the nature of this state. Of this illusion. Of course he could always break out of it through raw power, yet the dark warrior was content as he was attempting to figure out how the illusion worked and what its weaknesses were. If it was indeed a mindscape, then it was likely a bridge between two minds. A contest of wills so to speak, and with that contest came the connection. For the moment, Elise would feel the bottomless pit of grief, anger, and fear as well as hear a chorus of many disembodied voices that were certainly not his own. As if his mind was not just his own.

”I see, it’s best if we end this. It’s been fun.” The Thief smiled through blood stained lips. No matter how broken and torn his body was. The man merely thought the loss of his limbs as mere setbacks from what he must do.

Back in Realspace…

Suddenly, just before Elise could touch Rath, barely an inch away from touching a hair on his head. The crackling thunderous sound erupted followed with a powerful blast of kinetic energy that swept the area in a bubble of distorted air. Threatening to slam against Elise’s body and push her away. With it came the storm that surged inside her opponent.

”Zûtarwash, devour, ichi submit.” Rath spoke in the ancient sith tongue, and with it came the horror of realization as to what he was doing. A sphere of darkness engulfed the vicinity that originated from Rath. Whether in the confines of a building or behind cover; waves of darkness swept across the city as the negative emotions were manifested into the Realspace.

Invading their minds was the intense feelings of horror, pain, and bewilderment. A chorus of agonizing screams could be heard throughout the city as several troops of the Galactic Alliance fell victim to the mind onslaught.

”You’ve failed to protect your friends, your comrades, and the innocent you swore to protect. And now, they’ve left you behind to your death.” A disembodied whisper of the dark side that Elise could hear it clear as day both verbally and inside of her mind. The occasional rumble of thunder could be heard with the chorus of howling roars reverberating throughout the ferrocrete jungle. Those who favored the Light of the Force felt like their connection to the Force had been smothered by the overwhelming darkness. The sky was plagued by a thick mist of negative energy.

”The dark side of the Force is a powerful asset in regards to inflicting pain, to bring death, and to defy death. However, most if not all who use it often become corrupted due to the Force’s influence to inflict balance upon the body and soul.” Rath muttered if Elise could hear him over the whispers of despair. His eyes lingered upon the black mist that blanket over Cinnegar for a moment. The dark side channeled through his body was a manifestation from the souls that he had taken so far. To scream out their pain, to share their grief, and to share their own sense of confusion to all of those who were present.

Then he felt the warmth of a hand over his right that the Storm Breaker remained firmly gripped upon. It was a phantom of a feeling, but one that he was familiar with. A gentle reminder that it was not yet time for such a thing to occur.

”Let go.” A feminine voice cut through the whispers of despair like a lightsaber against the empty air. And with it, albeit temporarily, Rath dropped his concentration of the spell with a sigh. The sky cleared up, the whispers of the dark side subsided, but the agony upon the minds was still fresh.

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EMPRESS TETA

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There was a non-committal sound at the advice Casteel was giving. He would be ignoring it for the most part. Makai would never manipulate his fiancee in such a manner. Secondly, reminding her of the constant danger was counter productive ; his goal was to ease her concerns, not add to them. The goal was to prevent her from panicking, constantly speaking of mortal peril was going to push her over the edge.

It was becoming clear why Casteel couldn't make the transition from the friend zone to one of romantic partner to the trade heiress. He more than likely didn't understand the subtle nuance that was everything Ellie Arceneau. He wanted to ask more questions to get an idea of their friendship but felt it prudent to be quiet about the subject for right now.

Instead, he sent a message to Thirty-Seven.

(( Thirty-Seven, let Ellie access my biometric data. See if you can put it on the front screen of her comm ))

[[ Of course Sir. ]]

Her being able to see that he was alive and breathing was better than any convincing her to stay put on the Farm. Makai didn't expect her to travel this way, at least not until the fighting was done and over with.

A sip of the cognac and he lofted a brow. Make the most of their time together? What was ol' Castie talking about? Makai had plans to sit, either work in his loub-paper journal or get some company time in on his datapad. He figured at this moment, until the city was razed, they would lounge around and for the most part ignore one another. They weren't exactly best friends or the chattiest pair. It didn't bother Makai, he could go weeks without speaking to another person during his mining survey days.

"What do you mean, Castie? Make the most of our time? The only plans I have set in stone is sending a holo to Ellie every thirty minutes. You didn't get enough bonding time in with me back at the sports bar?"


Casteel Mer'taal Casteel Mer'taal

 
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Location: Aboard the Tiberius
Tags: Zethran Cott Zethran Cott | Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen | Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe | Cessair Ideon Cessair Ideon | Amelia von Sorenn Amelia von Sorenn | Ari Naldax Ari Naldax | Arla Rodarch Arla Rodarch | Vaux Gred Vaux Gred | Reiner Ghadi Reiner Ghadi
Objective: Tears of Ashla

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The depiction of Erskine Barran in this post is a mental facsimile, done with the approval of the character’s writer.


Korvan’s contingent jumps through the portal since it is becoming unstable, inadvertently destroying whatever element of surprise the Imperial forces had.

2nd Post

“Sire, we are picking up unusual readings from the portal...”

“What sort of readings...?” Korvan rumbled, his voice sounding faintly distant as he continued peering through the void from the observation deck.

“The transponder signatures of our ships already through are fading, and the integrity of the portal appears to be deteriorating as well. We likely won’t be able to send he whole fleet through the breach.” The Admiral said, his voice even with the tone of quiet resolve, despite the fact his words themselves brought uncertainty crashing down upon the situation. “We have an hour at most sir, if the science officers’ calculations are correct.”

The sobriety behind the Admiral’s words were enough to cause Ignacious’ own gaze to tear away from the blackness before him. His eyes were hollow, as if he were staring into the void, and the void had stared back. A weight bore down upon him intangible to those lesser men around him. His mind had been... clouded, a part of him... subdued for a while. He had focused so much on rallying the support of the Imperial Remnant to his cause, that he had not allowed himself to feel the sense of destiny surrounding him; destiny shrouded in...

...doom? Some ill-begotten fate the force had planned for him and all those gathered to this field of battle?

No. Ignacious had spat upon fate his entire life. This was something else entirely.

“Rally what ships you can, and position the Tiberius for entry into the portal.” Despite his bearing, his voice spoke with the same icy resolve he had been known for all of these years. At least his subordinates did not hear the strain he felt inside. Failure was not an option. This gamble of striking out against the Core Worlds with all the might of the former Empire had to succeed, for if it failed... Ignacious knew deep down inside that no other person would be held responsible for its demise.

This offensive would succeed... or he would die in prosecuting it to the bitter end.

“Tha’s the spirit there, Tha’s the spirit...”

Erskine prodded the fire within the hearth with an archaic ‘fire poker’ cast in iron. The flames licked the splintering wood hungrily as loud cracks responded in kind to the former Regent’s ministrations. Korvan’s cloak draped over his form, obscuring even his arms which hung loosely at his side. Yet despite the fire and the presence of his cloak, he felt cold.

“At least you are seeing this foolhardy scheme to its end. Or perhaps you race to your own.” Suddenly, Korvan became very much aware of a blaster resting atop the table sitting near the fire - near the chairs that were angled in front of the hearth. The same blaster that Erskine placed in front of Korvan in silent challenge after the near-failure on Ilum.

His near failure.

“But you always were good at weaselin’ your way out of trouble, so ye were.”

“Why are you here?” Again Ignacious’ voice rang hollow, as if it were both distant yet near at the same time - easily heard, yet sounding far away. “You are dead. This... this isn’t happening.” Despite the matter-of-fact tone in his voice, there was a semblance of hesitance in his words. Why was this happening, and in the midst of a battle no less?

“You damn well know the truth, boy.” Erskine replied: “You know it very well, you just don’t want to admit it.” Finally, Erskine ceased from toying with the fire and returned his gaze at the Despot. “I am dead. But I’m a part of you, lad. All of us are.”

And yet again, suddenly Korvan became aware of something that wasn’t there before, but seemed altogether always there. Portraits of the ‘heroes of the revolution’ lined the walls of the hunting lodge. Irveric Tavlar, resplendent in his uniform and signature eyepatch looked every part the leader of The New Order; Rurik Fel with his armor and mask which offered an unyielding expression to both friend and foe alike; Carlyle Rausgeber, Lucien Dooku, Willan Tal, Sahar, Erskine Barran himself - all of their eyes seemingly peered into Korvan’s soul as his very subconscious saw fit to torment him with their presence.

“Whether dead or alive, we’re a part of you. We all fought for a legacy - you included. You can’t just piss that away after bending the knee to the epitome of what we fought to destroy.”

Suddenly, a sharp pain surged through the back of Korvan’s mind as the visage of Solipsis himself faintly appeared and faded, with a distant laugh that only Ignacious could hear. His body clutched an amulet that rested over his neck back on the Tiberius, a talisman the dark lord had given him to ward off the machinations of vengeful rivals who might try to subdue the Despot in their own way. Yet, it would seem it also bore the will of the Dark Lord himself, which in turn fought against the pangs of conscience that manifested the long-dead Regent in Korvan’s mind.

And amidst the pain, Korvan could feel a touch on his chest. “The man I know is stronger than this.”


...stronger than this...

The words echoed in Korvan’s mind as he returned to reality, just as the command was given for the Tiberius to enter lightspeed.

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Location: Tython

Suddenly, the portal would surge as nearly a dozen ships emerged from within. The Tiberius surged forth with little by way of stealth or guile; oblivious to the dangers that beset the advance forces of Admirals Sularen and Cott who were meant to secure the landing zone from Alliance incursion. Warning claxons began to blare throughout the bridge as enemy signatures began to dominate the tactical readout.

Even with the Imperial reinforcements that rushed through the breach, they were vastly outnumbered. “Battlestations! Hail Admirals Cott and Sularen. I want to know why the landing zone is not secured.” Half agitated and frosty, Korvan appeared to return to some semblance of his former self as the gravity of the moment had once again been realized as battle loomed on the horizon.

For now.

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