Faction Great Purge - Fall of Prosperity [Jedi/Sith]

[Dalvos Thrakan]

Davlos sagged with relief, settling his back against the stacked wreckage and allowing a sigh to deflate his chest. "Thank the Force," he murmured, dipping his head for a moment in gratitude. "Thank you for..." He gestured vaguely toward the hallway behind him, and took the stim and canteen with a bright flash of gratitude in his eyes. "Oh, and thank you even more for this." He uncapped the canteen and drank nearly half of it in one long go, some of it spilling past his lips and down his chin. He laughed and wiped at his face. "Oh damn, I must've gotten shot!" He let the moment hang for just a second before his grin replaced the look of shock. "I don't remember having a hole in my lip."

He took the stim and pressed it into the meat of his thigh, the brief discomfort of the injection offset by the sizzling high of the chemical cocktail behind it.

He gestured to the old canteen dismissively. "It was a good canteen. Filter built into the neck, self-regulating temperature good for up to 36 hours. A fine canteen..." He hurled it down the hallway irritatedly. "And the bastard shot a hole in it!" He drew in deep breaths. One. Two. Three. Then he sat up, bracing himself against the wreckage... then inspected her outstretched hand. He grabbed her by the wrist, and carefully split his weight, pulling himself upright. "I don't think I'll be winning any races, but I can probably stay upright as long as nobody shoots me in the other one." He slapped his - thus far uninjured - right thigh.

Finally, his voice lowered, as if in confession, "I've about had my fill of fighting for the day, anyway. A quick nap and a meal and I'll be up for another bout, but not until then." His quick smile never quite faded despite the pain of his wounds. "I am glad you came back for me. Thank you, Seo. I would... Definitely appreciate a hand getting back to the ship."

His smile faded after a moment as they began moving, turning the corner... and facing the ladderway.

"Sithspit," he cursed under his breath, staring at the seemingly endless series of rungs. "Just three decks, just three decks up..."

Seo Linn

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Corazona von Ascania Naniti Lily Decoria Connel Vanagor​

Shame should've dripped from every word the siblings exchanged; each of them bore hypocrisy like a wound. Many fancied themselves clutching the same pragmatic doctrine and yet more graveyards kept sprouting from these beliefs.

The HUD of his helm tracked the bedlam, the drifting haze between blaster fire, sabers carving arcs through the murk. Emerald slid aside, catching the Togruta locked in mortal dance with an Echani Jedi. His gaze swung back toward Cora.

Somewhere in all this rot, there another familiar presence. Connel. Little did he know that his father, Caltin Vanagor , had been the first Jedi Master Lysander ever crossed paths during his Padawan journey. Though bound to the Covenant, he still mourned the man's death after learning of his fall during fighting the Galactic Empire.

Inevitably, Cora invoked his niece again. "The story she'll hear? Two stubborn fools inherited the same family flaw and neither of them knew when to quit." The truth of it all tasted foul. "Don't put your fucking martyrdom on me."

In the nearby lane, blades and ideologies continued clashing. "I never left my family," he continued. "Those I'd kill for are the same. Those I would die for? Same roster. I'm just more honest about it these days. The Jedi asked me to care for all. The Sith taught me that was impossible." He leveled her without giving ground. "You know what I discovered, Cora? The Sith were right about that, too. If everyone matters equally.. then nobody matters enough."

Something shifted after that; the world around him tilting with a nauseating lurch, like the ground he stood upon turned to water. Lysander's eardrums crumped inward; the roar around him stretched. Bile rose in his throat. His vision fractured.. into a kaleidoscope of ash. That was when Lysander stop fighting it, and allowed the Dark to drown him at last, letting it grapple this vertigo. Ancient power snaked through his nervous system, weaving into everything the malacia tried to tear open. The final shards of humanity shed from the teen as the poison began to feast.

His breathing deepened. Nightstar clattered free from his grasp onto the floor. A bracer burned and screeched against his wrist. Unbeknownst to his sister, she also stood before the Grove Knight, the Champion of Brosi. Pure malice threatened to buckle the laws of physics.

The Helm of the Twin Suns became unbreathable; he ripped it off in a hiss, letting it fall from his face. "How dare you reach for me with this," he spat, sweat carving a path down the scarred cheek of a younger brother finally dying. "Your Order deserves the extinction heading its way."

Sure Step opened the entire battlefield; ochre smoke unveiled the path of least resistance. Predatory grace arrived, prepared to be fueled by kinetic wrath. From the outside, or to the untrained eye, he may have appeared as a young man stumbling, but in truth, he became a current finding a crack in the dam.

Lysander pivoted left, before launching himself in a blur of nothing. The air around his palm congealed until a Darkshear solidified, into a blade of absolute darkness.. pulsing under a possessive grip that cared only for death. Shadows around him condensed, appearing to flicker in and out of existence, until he materialized near Lily Decoria 's flank; he deconstructed her Vaapad form earlier, which was what led him to thrust the stiletto forward, aiming hungrily beneath the saber's guard, for the cage of her ribs.

 

[Naniti]

"Foolish." Naniti snorted. Enable people you knew would turn on you? The so-called moral high road of the Jedi. A self-defeating philosophy of acquiescence. Was it any wonder they failed to destroy the Sith time and time again?

Then the woman sought to turn the dark back upon its harbinger. Naniti narrowed her eyes at the Jedi Knight before her. The crimson blade spun and swept aside an unseen current as if Lily Decoria had thrown a panel of her own right back at the Togruta. "As dangerous as your misguided belief all should be given their chance -- to live, to love, to kill. Vaapad. A perversion of power."

Soon their blades clashed with the squeal and hiss of extremes. Naniti did not forego noticing Lily's discipline and speed. The woman was a capable warrior. Both sought to stress the other's guard and test their defenses. Fast and brutal as the Jedi expected were her opponent's strikes. In spite of their heavy-handedness, however, they were timed and guided to where they fell rather than cast about at random. How Lily would gauge Naniti's skill remain to be seen, but the Togruta had spent a great deal of her life growing up learning how to wield a blade in battle. There were no classes taught in relative safety by 'caring' souls. Naniti had survived pits where only one emerged alive.

"Do you like surprises?"

Naniti hopped backward several steps before her course reversed. In the blink of an eye, the violet woman surged back toward Lily. The tip of her blade was thrust forward, withdrawn, and thrust again in rapid succession at different parts of the woman's upper torso.

Lily Decoria | Lysander von Ascania | Corazona von Ascania

 

[Seo Linn]

Seo watched with poorly concealed amusement as half the canteen disappeared in a single drink. For a moment, she was genuinely concerned when water spilled down his chin, and he abruptly announced he'd been shot again, but the grin that followed made her eyes narrow in resigned disbelief. "That was a terrible joke," she said, though the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth softened the criticism. She even listened through the eulogy for the fallen canteen, watching it sail down the corridor toward its final resting place with a level of personal offense that was, against her better judgment, strangely endearing. "It served with distinction," she offered solemnly before helping him to his feet.

Standing improved his condition only marginally; the stim had restored some life to his movements, but exhaustion still clung to him in ways no smile could hide. When he thanked her again, this time without theatrics, Seo's expression gentled. "I said I would come back," she replied, as though that alone explained everything. She supported part of his weight as they made their way through the damaged corridors, stepping around wreckage and scorch marks left behind by the fighting. For a few moments, the quiet between them felt almost peaceful, a brief reprieve carved out of chaos.

Then they reached the ladder well. Both stopped, staring upward at a climb that seemed considerably longer than it had earlier. His curse earned a small huff of laughter from her. "Sithspit indeed." She folded her arms, studying the endless rungs before glancing back at him with a glimmer of amusement in her gold eyes. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "I could use the Force to help you up the ladders." Her tone warmed, teasing without cruelty. "Not carry you. Your pride is far too fragile for that. But I could make the climb considerably less miserable." Her gaze drifted upward again, assessing the distance with a calm practicality that had carried her through far worse. "Unless, of course, you intend to conquer three decks through sheer stubbornness. It does seem to be one of your more reliable strategies."

Dalvos Thrakan

 

[Lily Decoria]

Location: Prosperity
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Equipment: Arwr Da, Hydrangea Moonblade (concealed)
Tag: Naniti | Lysander von Ascania | Corazona von Ascania | Connel Vanagor

Lily did not respond to the verbal jabs, there was nothing she could say that Lily believed would change the mind of this Sith. She was now leaning into the hope that her actions, demonstrating her skills and the acts of mercy. Lily never took a killing strike, she never sought to dismember Naniti. Lily was cautious and remained strong. While Naniti had experiences fighting in pits, Lily was trained in Echani combat many, many years before she ever picked up a Lightsaber.

There was a shift, a change in direction as she could feel the presence of another Sith entering the fight. Instinct took over Lily as she did not perfectly react to the attack but did shift enough and with her body twisting as best it could to avoid the danger. Slicing against her lower ribs. Nothing lethally deep but the Darkshear blade did work, the damage was sinking in deep and Lily could only hope instead treatment with bacta reversed the effects.

"Ahhh, unable to win fairly so decide you must cheat and be underhanded instead. Clearly someone does not believe the apprentice could hold their own against me." Lily mocked, looking down on both Naniti and Lysander for the strike. It was smart and it was effective but Lily did not respect it or either Sith. Lily shifted with equal speed to defend the attacks from Naniti. Predictable and with the adrenaline of fighting preventing the pain to be acknowledge for the moment, she was not finding herself hindered yet.

Lily shifted to making debilitating, firm jabs at Naniti. Her focus was splintering but the Echani moved fluidly, making sure that they both remained within her eyesight. Allowing the Force to keep her senses fine tuned if another attempt to attack from the shadows came. The Jedi Knight had a second Lightsaber if needed but she was not going to reach for it yet. A lucky hit did not mean she was overpowered or outnumbered. Just made this fight far more interesting.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

To: Lysander von Ascania
CC: Naniti Lily Decoria Connel Vanagor

Cora inhaled the acrid scent of blaster smoke and charred flesh. She let it burn her lungs as Lysander spoke, the hard, iron-wrought tone of his voice burning her in an entirely different way.

“If everyone matters equally.. then nobody matters enough."

He wasn't wrong - but he wasn't right, either. It was impossible to love and care for everyone in the galaxy in the same way that you did your family.

But it didn't mean that everyone else had to burn because of it.

Disorientation had taken Lysander's speech from him, just for a moment. Just long enough for his grip to loosen on his weapon, just long enough for his helm to become stifling. Cora felt a familiar guilt creep in, settling deep into her belly like a weight.
Slowly, her expression began to soften.

He shed the helmet, sweat matting blonde stands to his forehead. A trickle of perspiration traced the path of a scar down his face, now shaped into the sharper mein of a young man.

Every inch of Cora became still. No breath, no heartbeat.

Etched in righteous fury, scarred from his trials, hissing and spitting at her, stood their father.

For a split second, he wasn't her brother. He was something cruel and ugly, a monster of his own making. Maybe her making, a little, too.

A split second was all it took.

Lysander disappeared, and the Dark side of the Force swelled, inexorably pulled towards Lily as she dueled the violet Togruta. For how much she relied on danger sense and precognition, Cora failed to answer their alarm.

It wasn't until the Force sharpened into a pointed, inky spear that thrust straight for the Echani’s ribs at nearly imperceptible speed, did she finally act.

Cora breathed. Her heart resumed beating. The world again widened to just beyond the narrow point of her brother, and she moved before she thought. Too late to try and pull him back, to do much of anything, for his arm had already extended by the time her cybernetic fingers closed themselves around his wrist.

"I hope every death on Tapani and beyond was worth it," she muttered against his ear. “Because I am your consequence, Lysander."

Servos whined, the strength of bionics, the strength of the Force, whatever it took - to crush their way through whatever plating there was, whatever stood in her way so that metal fingers could twist and snap his wrist.