Faction (GA/NJO) Ashla Roots

[Rath Nihro]

C R O S S R O A D S

Objective: Assisting in Rebuilding
Equipment: Outfit
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

It was perhaps a bit strange that Rath hadn’t attempted to escape or harm his captors. Precisely because he had deemed that it was futile and a waste of energy to pursue those actions. Not when fate appeared to have other plans in mind for him. So the dark haired man simply had been patient, keeping his nose down, and gradually earning some morsel of trust from his former enemies. Perhaps those before him would have likely attempted to break free at some point during the time of captivity.

Whatever the case might have been, he understood that eventually something had to change. For the galaxy was ever shifting much like the seasons, and unless he wished to fall like his other peers had. Rath must learn to change as well. For better or worse.

"Why didn't you fight back when we came to the temple?"

The Knight broke the silence that had stretched between them. As Rath continuously fueled his muscles from shoulders to the tips of his toes with the ambient force energy. Enabling him to perform feats of strength that would likely require heavy equipment at least to lift, and yet it all steeped further into the question. If he truly was powerful enough to single handedly have slain Knights and even a Master virtually unscathed. Then how come he didn’t resist when the time came?

For a moment, Rath paused as he had placed another piece of debris onto the hovercraft, his hands rested upon the duracrete. He had thought of that question as well during his time in the cage, and the simple answer was that he couldn’t.

”You didn’t go past me like the others had attempted to. But… just before you had arrived the Force felt… off? Silent even, much like the mirror-like surface of a still lake that reflects the stars above.” To many it would seem normal, yet to Rath the Force had often felt like it was pulling him in one direction. For it had shown him half of the galaxy was burning, and how he felt like he stood alone with only the spirits of the fallen to accompany him.

Yet for a moment, Rath had foreseen a change in the path that had been laid out before him. It promised a time of peace, and frankly Rath would rather labor his days amongst the good common folk than having to pick up another saber or a blaster again. As time had gone by however, Rath couldn’t shake off the sense of a storm that was brewing throughout the galaxy. Coiling like a suffocating storm, much like how a python would wrap its heavy body around its victim.

”Besides, it wouldn’t have changed the outcome much whether a dozen or more Jedi were killed by my hands. Most of my kind would be eager to claim lives in their pursuit of glory and power, but I find such a thing to be a huge waste of potential.” At that moment, the mask that Rath had kept up slightly cracked, for he was both frustrated and disappointed. He raised his eyes to meet Corazona’s for a change.

”You had an opportunity to eliminate another threat to the galaxy, so why did you capture me instead?” The Force could predict all it wanted, but in the end it boiled down to the individuals themselves as to how they acted. Was it an act of benevolence, or was there some malicious intent behind her actions after all? Rath was of course beginning to hate that he automatically assumed that everyone had an ulterior motives behind their actions, but it was what kept him alive amongst the Sith-like people.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers |

Valery caught the gleam of metal just a second before the impact.

Her body twisted, boots sliding across moss-slicked stone as she pivoted. With her free hand, she reached out through the Force — a focused, precise tug — and BB-610's tumbling form slowed midair just enough for her to catch him against her side. The momentum nearly staggered her, but she gritted her teeth and held her ground, the little droid tucked safely in the crook of one arm.

"I've got you," she said, breathless but sure. "Stay with me, Bee."

She barely had time to set him down before the Drengir lunged again, a hulking mass of bark and rot and hunger. Valery's saber spun up like a shield, the violet blade flashing in a blur as she surged forward to meet them — not with brute force, but precision. Elegance. A storm in motion. Her feet never stayed in one place for long, each step a pivot, a shift, a deliberate counter to the writhing chaos around her. Where they struck, she was already gone — and where she struck, they screamed.

Blades wove through air and flesh. One swing to sever a grasping vine, another to drive a pointed burst of Light into the heart of a Drengir's corrupted root core. They thrashed and they burned. And all the while, her focus never left Bee's position — and that flicker of strange activity on his chassis.

Mid-spin, her eyes darted toward him. The blue glow of his holoprojector blinked faintly. Not an attack. A connection.

"Bee, are you getting something?" she called between slashes, cutting down another grasping limb. She didn't know who — or what — was reaching out. But if there was help coming… they'd need it fast. Because around them, the Drengir kept rising.

And Valery, surrounded and breath drawn sharp in her chest, was just getting started.

BB-610 Mykel Dawson ​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Rath was lifting heavier than she would've guessed for someone with his form - and they were roughly the same height. Subtle shifts in the Force converged on the darksider, as if it were being pulled inward.

Gradually, Tython was shifting towards a balance.

Some of the larger slabs of duracrete were too unwieldy for Cora to carry on her own. She ran the gloved fingers of her metal hand over the flat surface, searching for a crack, a weak spot, anything that could be exploited.

"Still and silent like the surface of a lake…" she repeated, murmuring thoughtfully. There were a handful of spots on her homeworld that were brought to memory. Peaceful, undisturbed. Not exactly the sort of place a practitioner of the dark side would enjoy.

"How does the Force normally feel to you, Rath?”

Her fingers stopped, pressed against a slight depression in the stone. The composition was a little more porous here, a little thinner.

As Rath turned the question on her, Cora's lips pressed into a thin line. She was searching for her words.

"Combat should be a last resort for a Jedi. If things had gone differently, I cannot say that we wouldn't have come to blows."

The Jedi had been fortunate on Tython that day, and the Force had shifted in their favor. If it hadn't, if Tython had been truly at home immersed in the dark, then she likely wouldn't be having this conversation, let alone still breathing unassisted.

"That, and…"

Cora trailed, thinking back to how he'd spoken of the Force, how he found less glory and more disappointment in the killing of Jedi.

"I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps the Force will provide more clarity in time."

A gentle application of pressure, and the duracrete slab fractured into three separate pieces. She was careful to dislodge them, one by one, and turn her head away from the dust.

"I didn't sense any ill will in you. Nor did those who oversaw your confinement period. A rarity, as far as captive darksiders go."

Rath Nihro

 

[Eugen Aker]

Location: Forest outside the Settlement
Objective: Experimenting with the Drengir (Working the rust off writing an old character, and performing some Factory development)
With: Solo

The forest buzzed with its own chorus, a blending of cries and calls from unseen creatures prowling the ancient woods. To the casual nature enjoyer, the ambiance of the untamed wilderness might have even seemed pleasant to the ear. But in the Force, the very earth wept from abuse, wallowing in a dirge of strife. Long before the ruinous occupation of the Dark Empire and occultists, Tython had been the site of countless battles and wars over the past century alone. The twisted planet bled.

Against this cacophony, Eugen moved like a ghost, his presence little more than a speck in perception as he skipped through the trees above ground. In this embedded state, the world around became shifting molecules and raw reactions laid bare. The great machine of the material universe underpinned by the Cosmic Force.

He moved in stark contrast to his targets, which now stood out like beacons in the Force, loud and unruly. Radiating with the corruption of the Dark Side. Vassals of rot. The Drengir.

He tapped a canister on his utility belt as he neared the first cluster, then guided its particulate contents downward with the invisible hand of the Force - a silent maestro directing a swarm. The Drengir only noticed him when he was nearly on top of them, and by then it was far too late. The haze enveloped them.

They shrieked. Their skin blistered and bubbled. Then, inch by inch, their forms began seize as they collapsed inward, deflating as their vascular systems ruptured and spilled out with dark liquids. Regeneration interrupted as they were attacked on the cellular level.

Monster had become prey as a new apex predator had been introduced to the invasive species. Microscopic biots of his own creation.

Nearby, other Drengir coiled and bristled, but hesitated to react. For the first time, something like contemplation stirred in their primal minds. Fight... or flight. Their fellow spawn hadn't merely fallen. They'd been erased, snuffed out with no surviving material.

All the while, Eugen loomed over them, twin pinpricks of crimson light bearing down like lasers. Still he remained a specter in the Force, even now as they could physically perceive him.

He'd tracked the process. Just under three minutes.

Not bad. But more testing was needed.

From his belt, he drew a long obsidian hilt and snapped it downward. A telescoping pike of gleaming silver extended with an audible crack. Its tip crackled and sparked with energy, the air around it reeking of ozone.

He pointed it toward the next cluster.

Then pounced like a falling meteor.

 

[Jack Wright]

LOCATION: TYTHON FORESTS

(Tags: Valery Noble , BB-610 , OPEN)

There was a perfect timing in the air, once the mass hulking swarm of live, corrupted roots extended their tendrils high, be it decree victory or slam down upon the vaunted Jedi Master and her droid companion.

Accompanied by a whizzing noise in the air, growing louder every second, that almost sounded suspiciously like a-

An azure hurricane burned and sliced through the variet of tentacles that made up the Drengirs' limbs, cutting clen against in a whirling arc that curved downwards right before said light-affiliated duo. The movement was practiced, directed, the lightsaber spun just back upwards to sever more of the atrocious appendages belonging to the monsters.

Returning into the right grip of the Knight who wielded said saber, perched atop a moss-coated branch high above the conundrum of allies and enemies. With that insufferable bearded smirk and playful light hazel, the Jedi called out with mirth to the annoyed beasts.

"Yoo-hoo, far more meat over here!" The Drengir swerved around, snarling at the interloper who'd dare deny them a meal. Regrowing limbs extended faster than record time, making Trandoshans look modest.

And even then, the Knight felt the pounding of their dark influence, hammering into his brain. A discordant symphony desire only to corrupt and consume, yearning for fresh meat when supposed 'allies' left them to rot on the Jedi ancestral home world: Feeling only wrath.

Desire.

Hunger.

Despite the pounding headache, Jack grinned wide while his left hand gripped sturdily on the loosened vine, throwing himself downwards and swinging over the fray, almost wishing a Wookiee was here to see it. Appendages lashed upwards, yet the Knight swerved and danced mid-swing, releasing the last second to duck and roll beneath another lunging, nature-corrupted tentacle.

Landing twenty feet away from Valery's left, azure lightsaber ignited and held within his right grip, swung around for a Shien fighting style. The illumination showcased his set mouth and facial, taking a moment to be actually serious.

A few of the Drengir, with another promising meal, focused their attention on the male Jedi, which gave the Grandmaster and her companion a better fighting chance with the group's diverted focus.

 

[BB-610]

| LOCATION: New Settlements, Tython |
| TAG: Valery Noble | Mykel Dawson | Jack Wright |

BB-610’s world was a blur, a disorienting mess of noise and color. He’d been tossed into the air—discarded like a cheap trinket—and flung Valery’s way. The droid’s assortment of photoreceptors offered plentiful perspectives. They were each more dizzying than the last.

The Jedi was fast, unsurprisingly; enveloped within the lukewarm grasp of psychic energy, the Force had seized his form and guided him to her. BB-610 blurted out a string of binary upon meeting Valery’s front, a panicked little sound inquiring about her safety as though she’d been the Drengir’s plaything.

Reunited with the ground, he rolled to the sidelines, eager to distance himself from the predators shambling closer. Valery got to work, as she oft did, and the droid had never felt more useless. She worked with courage most exhilarating, her movements seamless and oozing with experience.

The warbling hum of a lightsaber and subsequent flashes of purple were equal parts comforting and inspiring.

In an act spurred on by oodles of artificial adrenaline, BB-610’s chassis popped two disks open, utility arm emerging from one and promptly plucking something from the other. For a droid, there had been a woeful lack of calculations in regards to this decision — human emotion had given him an inch and with reasonably good intentions, he’d opted to run a mile.

The device within his claw clattered against metal, grip firm and steady. With the click of a button, the air tightened with a crackle of energy, hues of teal joining magenta as he ignited a lightsaber of his very own.

Valery had begun training him. It was reckless, perhaps; irrational, maybe even stupid. BB-610 had been chewed up by the galaxy and spat out far too many times, though — he demanded respect, admiration like his Master received.

With a shriek of synth, the astromech charged forth, blade aimed directly at one of many encroaching tendrils. Plasma collided against plantlife, hissing loudly. It had certainly dealt damage—the ensuing screech of the beast confirmed that much—but BB-610 lacked the force behind his swing to thoroughly slice it.

The appendage reared itself back and returned his animosity tenfold, slamming into his chassis and sending him rolling across the flora, lightsaber retracted the second its hilt was knocked from his grasp. It clattered uselessly against the ground, much like its owner.

The Drengir lurched, pulling itself closer to him with disgusting, sordid sounds. It mattered not, thankfully, for its attention was soon fixed solely on Jack Wright — earning him the ire of botanic beasties. BB-610’s thanks were postponed, internal comlink buzzing with activity.

Almost strained, he replied with haste, motors whirring. He needed to find his saber...

// This is BB-610 with Grandmaster Valery Noble. Support requested.

A simple enough response; short and succinct.

His focus bounced between the two Jedi before him, central optic ultimately landing on his Master. He chirped aloud, relaying the information he’d received — his binary mildly panicked, the droid squeaked and squealed, telling the two that they needed to withdraw while reinforcements arrived.

Radar emerging from one of many compartments along the flat of his head, BB-610’s following few seconds were spent mapping out their quickest route possible to distance themselves on the defensive. Antennae rising and falling to boost his range, the astromech eventually bweeped, pointing them beyond the towering shrubbery.

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Location: Fringes of Tython Settlement
Objective: Rescue Lost Soldiers, Assist Valery in the field
Outfit: Jedi Robes w/ Armorweave Underlay
With: Jedi Knight Consular Kaldor Vexis (NPC), Valery Noble , BB-610
Equipment:
-Lightwhip
-Yeti Tensor Rifle
-Cryoban Grenades
-Medkit

The astromech unit, now identified as BB-610, had answered Puck's hail and accepted the datalink. Now Puck could get a clearer picture on the ground level under the partial obstruction of the foliage, while the BB unit enjoyed a full (and increasingly concerning) bird's eye view of hostile movement. The mystery Jedi had finally been confirmed: Valery Noble, Grandmaster of the New Jedi Order.

If Puck could have emoted in that moment than he would. Suddenly, the benign search mission had evolved into full blown close air support of one of the most important figures of the Galactic Alliance.

//Credentials confirmed...forwarding to GADF command for priority response.
//Continue to Grid Delta-12...opening corridor for retreat.

The gentle orbiting path of the Jedi interceptor abruptly ended as it began to sharply juke through the air with its repulsors. There was not a single shred of elegance in its movements, only cold efficiency as Puck constantly repositioned for maximum impact.

First came a rain of low powered ion torpedoes spit out by its onboard generators, crashing into the outer ring of Drengir attempting to surround the pair. The ion bolts themselves would do little direct harm to the biologicals, but their flashing explosions disoriented the light-sensitive beasts, turning howls of hunger into wails of pain.

Next came the lethal follow-up: streams of molten slugs from its railguns, aimed squarely at the Drengir most directly blocking the retreat corridor. The slugs struck with pure kinetic force, rupturing vessels from within. Each impact left only limp, smoldering husks behind.

57 seconds. That was all it took for Puck to clear a path.

//Corridor established. You must retreat now.
//Offensive action suspended, risk of friendly fire too high.
//Jedi reinforcements ETA imminent.

The Jedi fighter continued to flit through the air as if being violently yanked by invisible strings, still attempting to ward away most of the approaching Drengir from Valery. However, the stromech detected wave after wave emerging from the forest depths. One fighter could not stem the tide forever. More aerial support would be required soon, or the settlement's ground forces would be left to hold the line alone.

---

Even without Puck constantly chiming in through the comlink, Mykel could already see his droid in action, the treeline before them now saturated with flashing lights of ion fire and the thunder of rail gun impacts. For the first time, he felt the pressure of the Drengir be relieved from his mind as their attention was now collectively focused above at an enemy above, radiating with hatred for the neigh untouchable enemy.

Good, fething seethe.

However, his breath hitched as Puck revealed the identity of the mystery Jedi to the pair: Valery Noble, the Grandmaster of the New Jedi Order.

"Oh dear Ashla," Kaldor muttered through the comlink.

He could see her now, her movements illuminated by the magenta light of her iconic lightsabers cutting through hulking masses of writhing vines and gnashing jaws. However, there was also a smaller flash of teal...even her astromech had a lightsaber? Nothing was quite ordinary about the Grandmaster. Like Kaldor, she existed as a moat of light in the Force amid swirling chaos of the Drengir.

However, for all her skill and ferocity on display, the Drengir were legion. Even as many of them lay dead either from lightsaber or rail slugs, more kept coming to quickly replace their losses.

"Puck gave the Grandmaster some breathing space, but I'm not waiting for them to come to us!" he told Kaldor. Mykel gunned the throttle on his speeder to surge forward before Kaldor could offer a word of caution.

As he closed in on Noble, he released a torrent of blaster cannon shots from his speeder, aiming for a Drengir that had tried to come around to her back as she was engaged with another. The drengir was sent lurching into a tree, knocking it over as it tumbled with a scream, wounds sizzling from the powerful bolts. Yet it wasn't dead, and already he could see it trying to reform itself to attack. He felt its hate and hunger turned from Noble to him, hit with a fresh wave of nausea.

Mykel grit his teeth, fighting through the mental assault as he reached into his satchel. Sliding to an abrupt stop about 20 meters behind Noble's position, he snatched a pair of cryoban grenades, chucking them both forward in a wild throw, but then each grenade would then be telekinectly pulled into two different concise arcs. One slammed into the Drengir Mykel had just downed, while the other grenade looped to hit the Drengir currently engaging the Grandmaster from the back. The resulting impact was the same, both monsters flash frozen as they were enveloped in a haze of chilling carbonite.

"Get on!" Mykel called to her, disregarding all formalities in the heat of the moment.

Now he had unslung rifle and had started unloading on other approaching Drengir. The exotic tensor rifle both froze and shattered Drengir flesh simultaneously, denying them the chance to regenerate as the frozen cell walls burst and then were pulverized completely. That was why he had opted for cryo based weapons instead of extreme temperature weapons on the other end of the scale, using their biology as mobile water sacks against them.

If he could get the Grandmaster out of here, that was one problem solved. But the greater issue still loomed. Veil and Hallick were still out there, and they had to be saved.

However, he dared to hope. Nothing was impossible with the Sword of the Jedi at his side.

---

Location: KSV Nightshade (Pantera-class Frigate), Kiribian Spacy Expeditionary Task Force "Roundup", Orbit above Tython

When Amar had been assigned to fleet support in the Tython system, the Kiribian Commander had expected a rather low intensity assignment that boiled down to mop up duty. The bulk of the Dark Empire's forces in the core had been neutralized or chased off, just leaving a few stragglers and pirate bands to hunt down. His collection of stealth frigates and blastboats were perfect for such a task, ambushing pirates in a sly game of cat and mouse before they even had a chance to respond.

However, such operations were becoming increasingly rare. In their place were impromptu planetside operations against the Drengir ongoing infestation. Like weeds, they seemed to quickly rebound just as another next was found and burned out by aerial strikes and orbital bombardment. Now, one of his worst fears had been realized as he stood over a projection of the Tython settlement. A particularly large infestation had been detected right around the fledgling community. Of course, the area had been surveyed before ground was broke, but the rotting bastards still managed to pop up under their noses. It was likely they were attracted by such a large concentration of biomass. Fresh meat.

The GADF garrison below had established some layers of defense, but this was no fortress or military base - just a glorified construction site packed full of refugees. With a single breach everything could easily undone, all the civilians below in imminent danger of being consumed.

Worse yet, the NJO Grandmaster had been reported being in the red zone. Her loss would be devastating to the Alliance project.

Not on his watch. He would hit the ground with his own rifle if he had to.

"Roll out strike package delta, like yesterday," he snapped. "Warm up the dropships - The Dragoons are coming after the drones. To Ground Command, I advise any patrols outside of the permitter to pull back now behind the first defensive line ASAP."

Within minutes, flights of Kiribian produced X-wings began to descend upon Tython from the flotilla. The turnaround from his order to launch was practically instant, as there no sentient pilots that needed to briefed or scrambled. Set in drone mode, the X-wings only required the input from the command ship's battle analysis system to point the way, populating their powerful droid brains with targets as it drew intelligence from all friendly sources in the area.

Help was on the way, the Jedi just needed to survive.

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers |

Valery didn't hesitate when Mykel's speeder skidded to a halt behind her. The cryoban grenades exploded in twin flashes of white, freezing Drengir where they stood, and for a brief moment, the tide seemed to pause. But only for a moment. More of them surged from the forest, a wall of rot and malice, and the sky darkened with their numbers. Even with Puck strafing from above, the weight of them was crushing — endless. Unnatural. Her breath hitched, not from fear, but from the sheer magnitude of what stood before them.

They wouldn't stop.

Her saber hissed as she disengaged it, the violet light vanishing into the mist. She turned, her eyes meeting Mykel's, then Bee's trembling form nearby. She felt their determination, their urgency — but she felt something else too.

The Force. Not the quiet guidance of battle meditation or the steady flow of defense. No. This was something wilder and hotter. Her jaw set, eyes narrowing as she stepped forward, facing the horde alone for a heartbeat. She opened herself — not just to the Force, but to the raw, searing fury of it. To every spark that had smoldered in her soul from the moment the galaxy asked too much, too often. Her hands lifted, fingers curling as the air around her seemed to ripple. Heat surged, not from technology, not from nature, but from within. The ground beneath her feet blackened, steam hissing from wet earth as the temperature spiked.

Then, she let go.

The fire burst forth like a storm unleashed — a cyclone of flame erupting from her outstretched hands, swirling high into the sky before crashing down in waves. Drengir shrieked as the inferno consumed them, fire licking at every twisted limb, every rotting vine, until the very ground blazed with righteous fury.

It wasn't wild. It wasn't chaotic. It was controlled and precise. A firestorm forged by will alone, tearing through the ranks of the Drengir with unrelenting purpose. They recoiled, stumbling back into the trees, their regeneration faltering beneath the heat. Their connection to the dark, severed by flame.

Valery stood in the center of it, her eyes ablaze with golden light, hair whipping in the hot wind. "Now!" she called over her shoulder, voice like thunder. "Go!" The path was clear — scorched earth leading toward safety, while behind them, the Drengir writhed and burned.

BB-610 Mykel Dawson ​

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Then, she let go.

The fire burst forth like a storm unleashed — a cyclone of flame erupting from her outstretched hands, swirling high into the sky before crashing down in waves. Drengir shrieked as the inferno consumed them, fire licking at every twisted limb, every rotting vine, until the very ground blazed with righteous fury.

It wasn't wild. It wasn't chaotic. It was controlled and precise. A firestorm forged by will alone, tearing through the ranks of the Drengir with unrelenting purpose. They recoiled, stumbling back into the trees, their regeneration faltering beneath the heat. Their connection to the dark, severed by flame.

The dark forest became nearly as bright as day with the sudden eruption of flames, incinerating all the Drengir within its scorching clutches. All emanating from the woman before him, radiating with a ferocity that drowned out all the terrors of the Drengir in the Force.

When people thought of Ashla, they usually imagined a gentle comforting light like a spring sun, and that was true, but in fact it could also be blistering and punishing like the great blaze conjured before him. Hellish judgment.

He almost felt himself lost in ether fire, but the Grandmaster's voice cut through his trance with a sharp command.

"Y-yes!" He blurted, pulling up beside her to let her on the back of his bike. At the same time, he extended a hand to summon her astromech with telekinesis, dropping it softly on his lap.

Moments later, he was off with his new passengers, speeding through the clearing she had made for them. In time, he could feel Kaldor catch up to him upon his own speederbike.

"I have the Grandmaster," he reported to Kaldor over his comlink. "Now for the soldiers."

"Very good," he congratulated Mykel, "but we must act fast for any rescue. The GADF requires a massive airstrike to flatten the hordes of incoming Drengir before they can overwhelm the ground defenses, but they won't start until every patrol is recalled. We're one of the stragglers."

Already, in the distance behind him, he could hear the boom of mortar fire and mass driver cannons as GADF soldiers attempted to repel the carniverous invaders.

"Understood, master! This shouldn't take long at all. They're just a minute away." Mykel twisted the throttle, building up more speed, rocketing through the forest faster than any normal human could without crashing. Clusters of Drengir came and went and he weaved through them. Kaldor was right on him, knowing to keep up this time.

As they closed in on the soldiers, the Khil unclipped his lightsaber in one hand, conjuring a bright emerald blade with a snap-hiss. Holding it horizontally, he summoned Force Light, but instead of releasing it immediately, he channeled it right into his lightsaber, the crystals resonating strongly with an audible hum. His saber turned from green, to jade, to gold, and then pure white. The hum of crystals then became more like chimes. Immediately, Mykel felt a sense of calm wash over him as the eerie psychic attacks from the Drengir ceased, their connection to their hive leader severed by the haunting melody of the chimes. Now they began to lurch about aimlessly in confusion.

That was twice now that he had bore witness to incredible powers of his seniors in such a short time - the Padawan still had so much to learn.

With newfound clarity, he could easily pick out the signature of the soldiers now without need to reference their transponders on his comlink. They were imprisoned by one particularly large Drengir that was at least twice the size of his counterparts, built like a rancor. On its side, he could see the armored forms of Veil and Hallick, partially obscured by mottled flesh, like they were being absorbed right into the abomination.

"There!" He shouted, decelerating while flanking the Drengir, taking a few well placed blaster cannon shots at its base as distraction. The Drengir screamed at the sudden flare of pain, lashing out at Mykel wish a sweeping strike of a viney arm as thick as a tree trunk. Mykel expertly hit the altitude control to skip right over the scything limb, then came came around for another pass to unload on the Drengir with more blaster fire. Meanwhile, Kaldor circled the behemoth Drengir in a wide orbit, isolating it as he warded away the others with his Force-infused blade.

"Grandmaster, we can keep it distracted!" He shouted behind to her. "Can you free them?"

Valery Noble BB-610