Invasion How Liberty Dies | GE Invasion of GA held Coruscant Super Hex

[Mykel Dawson]

Location: Coruscant, High Orbit
Objective (3): Battle Management for Silver Wing
Allies: GA ( Valery Noble , Amelia von Sorenn , Gym Halpern , Prael'rs'akinc , Nathan Bloodscrawl
Opposition: GE (Remus Adair , Ibaris Varanin Ashin Cardé Varanin Shannic Wulf , St. Thomas Barran , Aldo Garrick , SCAR , Soontir Barvel , Artam Macek )
Directly Engaging:

Mykel grit his teeth, weaving through cascades of molten debris from annihilated warships while also veering to avoid collisions with suicidal Mawite pilots. If they weren't shooting at him, then they were rocketing straight for Amphrite and the rest of Silver Wing. Mid-maneuver, grinning death heads percolated into his vision as he experienced yet another powerful occultist ( Ashin Cardé Varanin ) raking against his consciousness.

Startled, the young knight mistook the ghoulish faces as real obstructions in the heat of the moment while dogfighting, reflexively jerking Amphrite sharply right…into an oncoming fuselage of a spiraling Y-wing.

Like a deer caught in the headlights, he seized up, momentarily overwhelmed by intense warring in both the material and metaphysical planes.

…Mom…

Like many soldiers across time, his final split thought was upon his mother as he embraced death.

//EMERGENCY OVERRIDE//​

EXECUTE PILOT INPUT OVERRIDE
THRUSTER PULSE BURST: STARBOARD ROLL 47.1° / AFT THROTTLE CUT 12.6%
GEOMETRIC VEER MANEUVER: COLLISION EJECTION DELTA-T 0.004s
STABALIZE ROTATIONAL VECTOR: GYROCOMPENSATE 7.6° NEG. PITCH

Only a timely intervention by Hecate saved Mykel a from a terminal collision, the AI wresting complete control from him to initiate anti-collision protocols. Her primary function was cyber warfare, but by the peculiarities of her programming, she was an excellent pilot, boosted by superluminal processing that shattered the lightspeed barrier. A handy quirk of her Corellian foundation.

There was no time for thanks, as Mykel's mind was now wrecked with the disturbance of the death of several his cohorts. Many more dead quite literally burned around them, but to Mykel, the losses of the Jedi of Silver Wing were especially traumatic in the most terrible fashion as they had been closely bound in spirit. Unfortunately for them, those five lost souls did not have backup when their minds succumbed to the dirge of the slain.

It would have been so easy to let go then, to give into the mounting inertia of the Dark Side swirling around him. A child born and raised in peacetime, he had not been truly prepared for such barbarity. With blade and fighter, he had struck down Dark Siders before (hence his personal death heads), but never had he experienced such total war at this scale.

This was his baptism into a new age of Chaos.

"Hello?! HELLO?!" A gruff voice called over the open channel Mykel had previously established to warn everyone about the ramships.

"W-what," Mykel muttered distractedly, banishing the specters from his mind like dusting away cobwebs as he snapped back to reality. Once more, his vision was clear, but he was still left with the destruction still unfolding around him as Hecate maintained control of Amphrite.

:: Mykel, it's from Freighter Captain Dovan Hugh of the New Canterbury. ::

"Okay…" he said under his breath before answering the hail, voice growing stronger as he regained his bearing. This is no time to fall apart now…people need me.

"Do you require assistance?" Mykel asked, unsure what he could actually do in his present state.

"Do you need assistance?" Hugh inquired. "We got one of your people, their compensator got blown by all this fething slag and they were a sitting duck until we tractor'd them up into our bay - and blasted these damn Imp bombers about to take 'em."

Mykel was stunned. This whole time, the GADF and Jedi had been fighting on behalf of the civilians in the system. It never occurred to him that the civilians could save them.

"Thank you…could you evacuate them with you?"

"We could, but we want to stay and fight with you. You hear this chit there saying down on the surface? There's no use running - they're coming for everybody everywhere across the Alliance. They're going to 'liberate' us all with more kamikaze ships and death squads. No fething thanks."

The captain's words, while crude, moved the Jedi Knight. This man had no great political influence, no supernatural abilities, no grand army. Just nerves of beskar as he faced down the terrible might of an empire with nothing but his own freighter.

Mykel felt a twinge of guilt then, having almost about to give up when he had been blessed with so much power.

"We'd be happy to have you aboard, Captain." He told Hugh before turning his attention back to Silver Wing. "All survivors, form up!"

"Hey, Hecate, is the countersignal ready?"

:: I thought you'd never ask! I'm pushing it to Alliance vessels to implement. ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ ::

"Great, but I need more. Can you connect with GADF satellites in orbit?"

There was several moments of delay before Hecate responded again.

:: Done. I'm not exactly sanctioned for that sort of access, buuuuuuuuuuut when I'm in your encryption as a friendly AI, then what can you do?ㄟ( ･ө･ )ㄏ Now what? ::

"Perfect, just give me a line."

---

Hecate continued to cover for Mykel by autonomously flying the Amphrite, while the remnants of Silver Wing emerged flying through the falling wreckage to form up around the lead starfighter.

With the connection to the GADF satellites established, the hasty transmission began from orbit, largely free from jamming thanks to the countersignal developed by Hecate.

"This is Jedi Knight Mykel Dawson to the people of Coruscant,"

"I know you're scared. I know what you're seeing, because I'm seeing it too. The Imperials are vicious and strike without remorse. They entrap us with their interdictors as they embark upon a cruel campaign of collective punishment. They weave their nightmares into our very minds to drive us insane. They quite literally hurls ships from the heavens to exterminate us."

"They inflict all this terror upon us to convince us that resistance is futile. That there is no choice but perish or submit."

"However, in fact we do have a choice. You always have a choice. You can all still run or surrender, and I won't judge you if you do. But if you're hearing this and you reject their calls for submission, then I ask you to stand with the Alliance as we are standing up for you right now. As we stood against the tyranny of the Dark Empire that attacked Coruscant before. Today I'm not fighting with you as just a Jedi on a crusade, but also resident of the Core and a citizen of the Galactic Alliance. If Coruscant falls, then Coruscul falls right along with it. I want to protect my home. I know you do, too."

"I won't lie to you, this won't be easy, but I'll be damned if we simply let the Imperials waltz back into the Core like they didn't just crumble away months before. They are weak, and are using the weapons of terror to try to distract you from this reality. This new 'Galactic Empire' is built upon a well known template of failure. While the Alliance has stood strong against the Sith and Imperials for decades. Defy their lies. Resist them. Rebel!"

"So if you can still fly, then fly with us. If you can still fight, then fight with us. If you can still hope, then don't give up."

"Because the Alliance hasn't given up on you."

Darth Solipsis , Shannic Wulf , Sahar Da'Razel , Ren , Ran Serys , Kain Aldore , Ellayina L'lerim , Katherine Holt , @relevant parties

((Sorry if you're were double tagged, had some some issue with the formatting.))

---

To support a world of a trillion required an innumerable amount of starships. Shipping freighters, transport shuttles, police cruisers. All these and more were required for the proper function of the dense and sprawling ecumenopolis of Coruscant.

If even a fraction of those ships remained to support the Alliance Navy and the CDF, then they would create the largest armada in space by far. Would they be the strongest with their limited weapons? No? But their numerical advantage, paired with the bleeding edge tech of the GADF would more than tip the balance.

And so they did, as some fleeing Coruscanti paused and acknowledged the truth in Mykel's words. There was no running. There was nowhere safe from the clutches of the Imperials and the Sith. They had all learned this lesson well during the Second Hyperspace War and Core Wars, and the great wars of conquest before and after, Coruscant always the battlefield of choice for various tyrants through the generations.

They had lived through this terror so many times before and they were tired. Exhausted from being constantly shuffled around as pauper refugees and and then later attempting to pick up the pieces of their old lives when the next group of tyrants came and went. Oftentimes, there was nothing left to pick up. No family or friends left for reunion.

The young knight's call for resistance sparked a new fire of resolve in them. It was time for something different. Better to die on their feet, than on their knees.

They would stand up to these thugs, if not for the Alliance, then for themselves.

THE CITIZEN FLEET RISES​

 

[Magdalena Bloodscrawl]

OT-710 and the Model 0 Elliot and the Clone Offense Troopers were being steadily overwhelmed by the heavy firepower employed against the City. Many of the Squads had fallen on the outside, the relentless fanaticism of the Stormtroopers cutting down even the most fiercest defenses.

Many of their LAAT units had been shot down, and the latest bombing campaign had been devastating.

"Them Sith feths are feelin' kinda ornery, ain't they?" The Black Skeleton of a cyborg joked as he was massacring a squad of advancing Stormtroopers with his Machine Gun.

"Yeah..." 710 said grimly, looking at the scorched landscape. They had to go all out. Domaric Mordane was a madman. A glory hound.

But The Clone Army were fanatics as well. And they were just as prepared to destroy the city as he was to keep him from having it, even if it meant they themselves might die in the process.

710 contacted the Plague Destroyer fighting in space as well as the unmarked, black hulled Corporate Heavy Cruiser that had sustained heavy damage but it's main guns and most of its point defenses still functioning.

"Dishwasher Cycle Initiated. All inner districts around temple."

He contacted the reserve units on the lower levels.

"All units, we have failed to halt the Sith advance. Prepare Sink Drain."

Silence on the other end at both times. Before a single answer both times.

"Confirmed."

710 then contacted all Alliance Forces on an open channel, praying they would believe him.

"All Alliance Forces...this is...a Fett Clone...get away from the inner districts. Any civilians listening to this, run for your lives."

"This one is going to be...bad." He finished. "Repeat: Run for your lives from the inner districts."

Not two minutes later The Cruiser began firing all its weapons at the surface as it began to move closer to the ground. But seemingly not to land.

To scrape. Like a sponge on the rough side.

Storm Trooper platoons, tanks, convoys, special units, all got hit in the initial blasts. The recycling fireteams that had been badly hurting the offense troopers were the first to be hit by the Cruiser fire as it continued to move closer and closer, and the Sith Forces frantically realized it was on a collision course.

It was an utterly insane, homicidal tactic. But it sent Imperial Military running as the Clone Forces advanced, genetically engineered to be fearless and fanatical in their will to destroy the enemy as they refused to allow the soldiers desperately trying to retreat to flee, firing on them even though some of them risked being killed being in the direct path of the cruiser, gunning down fleeing Sith Forces.

But that was only the start of the psychotic hell the Clone Forces inflicted.

Four shots from the Fusion Accelerator Cannons of the Plague Destroyer in orbit tore through the Atmosphere, each shot targeting the largest concentration of Imperial Military they could find. Massive, mushroom shaped explosions that shattered windows everywhere for kilometers annihilated whole convoys of Sith Military in one fell swoop, disintegrated companies of Sith Platoons. Mordrane himself would come under direct fire from Clone Forces in nearby buildings armed with DC-15A's, which notoriously possessed a ten kilometer range. They command fired on his position from multiple buildings, while other Clone snipers in the temple itself tried to fire at anyone who looked like they might be under his direct command, Varo included. It was a slaughter in the inner districts.

Remaining LAAT's strafed the fleeing Sith with their weapons as the Acclamator approached, unleashing Salvos of Ion Pulse Missiles that fried circuits and equipment. The Beam Cannons brutally targeted Mordrane's forces as they approached, even as more of them got shot down by enraged, desperate TIE Pilots, though more than a few of those got shot down by in turn by the Beam Turret gunners on the LAAT ships, who were basically all crack shots and experts at leading fast moving targets.

The second taste of Hell from came from orbit in the Form of a Multi spectral Beam Weapon fired by the Destroyer, the green death beam cutting deadly swaths through Mordrane's forces in the Plaza. Twice was it fired, punctuated by another fusion cannon shot. Than another five shots more from the beam cannon. No mercy was being shown. The Clones were prepared to do everything in their power to prevent the temple from being taken the Beam Cannon now firing from orbit regularly, killing as Many Sith Forces as it could target. The destruction in the inner districts was horrifying so far, but it wasn't over.

Swarms of Model 0 units flew up from the lower levels via their integrated Grav-Pack Technology, armed with PR-1 Ravagers, and Sarissa Grenade Rifles sweeping over the chaotic battlefield to both ravage the Sith and cover the advance of city resistance and militias, while the Acclamator got lower and lower.

But it was a faint. Even the Clones weren't insane enough to actually try scraping the upper levels. They would have been killing thousands of innocents unnecessarily, as well as allied forces.

Instead, due to the expertise of its clone pilots and crew, the Acclamator, instead of making a suicidal scrape on the upper levels that risked destroying it, skimmed the surface as low as it could at its top speed without making contact and it's loading bays opened, though the massive vessel, did accidentally, mildly clip a few of the buildings without doing true, severe damage as it past by. Alliance Forces above and below stared in shock at what happened next.

It's full compliment of Saber-Tanks were unleashed, released with parachutes onto whole squads of Sith Military that just realized they had been suckered, some of the tanks landing in their midst and immediately opening fire or running over fleeing Stormtroopers like they were Pierce Brosnan going after a traitorous general, running over them at full speed with no remorse, the damaged cruisers point defense cannons still firing at enemy forces as it passed by, its sheer bulk smashing through enemy starbombers and after all its tanks had been released, more Model 0's flew out, cackling like madmen and as heavily armed to the teeth as their fellows from the depths of the underworks had been, raining fire on the enemy below as the Acclamator finally pulled up and began to ascend, the Plague Destroyer covering its retreat with another Fusion Accelerator shot at enemy forces. The impacts so heavy even Vanagor's Omega squad would feel the rumble.

Magdalena, who had just gotten done striking down another two Elites (She didn't dare try absorbing any of the female Elites in case Darth Solipsis had some sort of spiritual booby trap rigged in them) saw what was going on outside from a temple balcony and saw more Imperial troops getting ever closer to it...

Go time.

She cut open her palm, spoke a strange, hissing language that made Multiple Light Side runes appear on her face, and fired heavy green bolts of Electric Judgement from her fingers, causing violent bursts of energy on impact, the spell she had used in conjunction ensuring only allied Forces would remain unharmed, while those aligned to the Sith would be at the greatest risk of death...

710 rose from makeshift cover while the Model 0 Elliot chuckled at the carnage.

"Hooooo-wee! You boys know how to put together a mighty fine shindig, yessir!" Elliot chuckled. "Let's continue snagging these here Cattle Rustlers!"

"My life is insane." 710 muttered as swarms of Model 0, so large in number they almost blotted the sky, covered the enemy in particle cannon and grenade fire, many of them landing to brutally murder the imperials personally...

Mykel Dawson

St. Thomas Barran

Gym Halpern

Connel Vanagor

Valery Noble

Zark San Tekka

Rikuan

 

[Prowler II]

​

Location: The Jedi Temple -> THE SEPULCHRE / THE QABBRAT
Allies: Ibaris Varanin
Objective: Tactical retreat. Bolster Battle meditation.

Then: Coruscant...

Kaleb was careful in his approach, for while getting inside of the Temple interior through the ventilation system itself was easy. He couldn’t say the same for the rest of the Jedi Temple, he only knew certain pathways, for they would have to cross the ducts, then cut through the maintenance passageways many of the technicians and custodians used. From there through a shortcut in the tunnel system far older than the temple itself could they reach the shrine that was the beating heart of the Temple. With much of this knowledge in mind, Kaleb took first point as he entered deep inside ventilation shaft, the interior was covered in dark durasteel that had covered he ventilation system in nothing but darkness. Occasionally, there was small hints of light coming from the various ducts that led through openings into the many rooms and chambers of the Temple, but for now the group was covered quickly in darkness.

“Onwards, we have little time to waste. It won’t be long before the Order gets a hint we’re in here. We can only hope that the dark side can shroud our presence till we reach the shrine.”

Kaleb would say to the team behind him.

The elder arkanian glanced at the team of darksiders around him as they collectively drew more near their objective. The nexus underneath the jedi temple. That was the goal after all. The group no doubt felt the invigorating energy bestowed apon them all by Ibaris Varanin , her presence and boon was a unholy blessing to the servants of the Emperor and a curse apon the forces of the Galactic alliance. Throughout the course of Prowlers walk he could feel the darkside double within him. The fear, the anger and the conflict that threatened to consume Coruscant in the chaos of this invasion. A micro to the macrocosm that was being woven into ethereal planes of existence.

Approaching the ventilation system, the Elder observed Kaleb Sunwalker enter inside, like a womp rat. " My boy, you speak as if- " He began to scoff and stopped in his tracks. Barely entering the ventilation system before sensing a rising tide of a new presence. It was subtle at first. Like the dawn intent to reach high noon. Even then Prowler could feel within himself a shift, the light rising. Unbeknownst to him it was non other than Grandmaster Valery Noble .

What? Who?!...who dares!

Pale eyes went wide and his expression turned dark. The arkanian hung his head weighing his options and swiftly committed the remaining energy he had to a singular choice. A sinister energy erupted from within and out of Prowler like a shriek of terror and strain. The fabric of reality contorting to his will, shifting, twisting to forge a temporal anomaly. A bridge that would connect him to the place solidified into his imagination and cemented by corruptive power. Then without a word, the Elders physical form crackled with purple force lightning and faded into shadow, leaving only trace amounts of crackling energy and sparks to disperse into the air and ground where he once stood.

Present: THE SEPULCHRE

Vision blurred. Images of battles far and near waned into his perception and burned sensations into his senses. Touch, taste, sight, hearing and smell. All phantoms in-between from where he was and where he was going, where he now was. With a explosion burst of force lightning, Prowler stepped out of shadow and ignited his crimson lightsaber with a snap-hiss! Opening his eyes to take in a new scene. One that did not look like the Jedi temple on Coruscant at all, rather this new scene was the familiar sterile and dark home that he and the darkside elite new as home. He was on the Sepulchre.

A home that was under attack! Blaster fire streamed and whizzed past his being, evaded and reflected back to its sources with lethal precision. To the Galactic alliance soldiers that had just seen the unexplainable appear before their eyes, they should of been panicked but their resolve was solid. Emboldened by the battle meditation surging over their minds and reflected in their eyes. A manifestation of the same boldness originating from the jedi. " YOU DARE ATTACK A JEDI MASTER!?!!" He bellowed and stretched forth a hand to the squad of Alliance soldiers. Red streams lashed out from the elders finger tips and multiplied over his attackers. Ravaging their forms and invasively sucking the vitality from their beings. When the eerie red energy faded back into Prowlers out stretched hand, husks wearing oversized armor collapsed to the cold durasteel floor.

He walked over their corpses and turned a corner to enter a hallway with yet another squad invading soldiers. Intruders adjacent to his destination. THE QABBRAT. The ships meditation chamber. With a simple gesture of the hand, an echoing boom sounded aloud. A telekinetic wave that might as well of pulverized anything in its set path. Rag dolling what remained further down the hall.

When Prowler finally entered the meditation chamber, its blast door shut behind him with a thud and hiss of his inner mechanisms, his gaze darted immediately to Ibaris Varanin in her intense focus. " VAAAARRRAANIN!!!" He shrieked and took up residence beside her a meditative kneeling position. " Your power is waning, girl! This is..." He paused inhaled a deep breath and exhaled to finish. "Unacceptable." Closing his eyes and submerging himself into the current that Ibaris continued to weave above and below, within and without, Prowler settled his power into bolstering the battle meditation and supercharge its effects with his malevolent thought. Thoughts to not only empower the Galactic Empire, but also to enrage it to fight tooth and nail. Physically, mentally and spiritually coxed into a sharpened state of hatred. Hatred that Prowler would harness and throw back at the jedi and their pathetic attempts of metaphysical defense.

Going as far to surge psychic assaults against whoever the source of the Jedi's battle meditation traced back to. ( Valery Noble )



<<" Your Emperor has chosen you to fight! No sacrifice, no VICTORY! FOR THE EMPIRE!" >>

SITH BATTLE MEDITATION [AUGMENTED]
APPLIES TO ALL** PARTICIPANTS ON ALL OBJECTIVES - EFFECT AND REACH AMPLIFIED BY THE QABBRAT AND IBARIS VARANIN

GALACTIC EMPIRE
AND ITS ALLIES GAIN A SIGNIFICANT BOOST TO MORALE, STAMINA, AND BATTLE PROWESS

GALACTIC ALLIANCE
AND ITS ALLIES SUFFER A FURTHER EROSION OF THEIR WILL TO FIGHT

BOUNTY HUNTERS
HOW THIS AFFECTS YOU WILL DEPEND ON YOUR TARGET

IF YOU'RE NOT AFTER A GE MEMBER OR PROPERTY, THIS WILL HELP YOU
IF YOU ARE AFTER A GE MEMBER OR PROPERTY, IT WILL HINDER YOU

​

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

IV SEPULCHRE
NEARBY: Prowler II Ibaris Varanin
ON SHIP: St. Thomas Barran Nathan Bloodscrawl

The ritual ended, leaving Ashin on the table, sweat-soaked and incision stinging, surrounded by her little treasures. Elsewhere the rest of her, her other bodies, went back about her business. She'd needed the focus for this.

A chair creaked in the dark as Jaccath got up. "Captain, you should hear this. It just went out. Significant civilian ship uptick starting."

Ashin sat up and took a beat to clear her head, then listened at Jaccath's comlink to Mykel Dawson 's transmission. So a bad-faith attempt at madness was the narrative — and she had no doubt a lot of people would understand the visions in the same way. A shame. As a teacher she hated failing to make her point. But then again she was used to teaching a more apt class of student than the general public.

She'd simply have to try again. More artifacts, more blood, more commitment—

Jaccath's datapad chimed with an alert that overrode all priorities.

The tiny sound monitor concealed outside the qabbrat. Violence had reached her daughter.

Ibaris' battle meditation remained strong, which was a reliable signal of her safety for the moment. Leaving Jaccath to gather the ritual accoutrements as planned, Ashin unhooked her lightsaber and set her weight on her black cane. She unlocked the conference room and circled through the halls and carnage to plant herself outside the door to the qabbrat.

She had been, by any objective measure, a poor mother. She could at least do this.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

C O R U S C A N T
JEDI TEMPLE STEPS:
SORROW IS YOUR TALE

Engaging: Darth Apophion ​

The defenders charged down the steps, the Alliance slamming en masse into the legions of the Empire with reckless abandon. This was the last bastion, and they knew it. They would give their all in its defense, not out of obligation to the Jedi but because of what the temple represented. As Coruscant burned around them, this building yet stood. A piece of Coruscant, home to trillions of souls, still remained. And they would fight to keep it.

The Lion led the charge, ever at the forefront of the fighting. None could overtake him in stride nor fury, for his was the righteous vengeance of the innocent slain, and his power and might grew with each unjust exection perpetrated by the Empire — each family buried beneath their homes as a result of indiscriminate bombing. As their spirits returned to the Wellspring of Life, their tragic end fuel the efforts of the Dark Angel.

Only the greatest of sacrifices would halt his advance, and he looked not to the slaughter surrounding him, but to the crest of the hill.

"CALTIN," he called out, sensing the impending doom. "BROTHER!"

Distracted, Thurion did not have the wits to register the arrival of Darth Apophion cutting down several Jedi in his path. He'd turned to make for Caltin's side when the Sith Lord stepped in between.

"You will find no glory here. Only Sorrow. This will not be your hour of victory; it will be your hour of defeat. Come now. Let me make this quick. Let me make this place and your fellow warriors of light your final resting place!"

Thurion regarded the man with indifference, attempting to simply walk on by when the crimson lightsaber was leveled against him. He snarled in frustration. Not now.

"Out my way, whelp! I'm in no mood for grand speeches! My brother needs me, he's—" He saw Caltin Vanagor fall. His eyes went wide, then he slumped forward as if someone had stuck a knife through his heart. He hung his head in defeat, half-facing the Sith Lord.

"Sorrow is your tale," said Thurion, a silent tear shed upon the battlefield. "My wife spoke those words to me, once. You have no idea what sorrows I carry, Darth." He looked directly at him then, unflinching. "You threaten me with death. I should have died so many times. My curse is to watch everyone I care about perish. And I am sick and tired of your kind; cruelty, cowardice, and threats of violence is all you bring to the table!"

Thurion then drew his sword anew in exasperation.

"Well, come on then, you know how this goes! Make your grand proclamations of how you'll take my head and offer it to your masters! I'll just kill you and add another name to the mountain of guilt I am faced with my every waking moment. What's one more, hey?"

Eyes reddened with overwhelming grief coupled with utter disgust for himself and his opponent struck the Sith Lord long before the first swing of his sword, as the Lion marched towards Apophion in the darkest of moods. No virtuous Jedi. No illustrious High King.

Just a man surrendered to grief, each swing of his sword matched by the shedding of another tear.

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Robes
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings, Seer Stone, Wayfinder's Flare, Engagement Ring
Tag: Rikuan Rann Thress

The stairwell trembled beneath her boots as Eve descended, Stillness already drawn and glowing with a soft white hum. Smoke drifted through the shattered arches of the lower level. The sounds of blaster fire, shouting and the telltale clash of lightsabers rang out from multiple directions. Eve’s eye darted between columns, corners, corridors, searching.

There.

A blur of motion, a trooper standing over a downed figure, furred, small, injured. Another figure beside, tall, strong, but evidently troubled.

Eve didn’t hesitate. The Force surged into her limbs, and she shot forward in a single breathless sprint. The trooper never saw her. One clean strike, white light cutting clean through armour and bone. The body dropped where it stood.

Eve exhaled, her pace slowing as she came to a stop beside the fallen Padawan. She looked down — a Makurian, shoulder injured, breath heavy. She knelt swiftly, already reaching for his arm.

"Hey. You alright?" Her voice was low, calm, steadying.

She turned his arm carefully, examining the charred flesh through the scorched fur, her thumb brushing just beneath the wound to find the pulse.

"You’re safe. Just breathe."

Her other hand hovered just over the injury. A soft glow began to form, faint and flickering with golden-white light, not yet healing, but building in warmth. She glanced once toward the human Jedi nearby, eye narrowing as she assessed the tension in his body, then back to the Makurian, her voice even.

"I'm Eve. I've got you."

 

[Voldran Molf]

Information and Tag

Shadow Lord, Prince of Nightmare​

"Galactic Basic" | <"Mandalorian"> | ["Úr-kittat"] | ~"Telepathic" communication ~ | << comm. channel >>​

Objective: Corrupt the Nexus
Location: Jedi temple, Coruscant
Equipment: Armour | Sword || OPBC-01m
DSE Infiltration Team: Kaleb Sunwalker | Orran | Talon Draven | Prowler II | Open

It seemed the team wouldn’t remain alone after all. Mere moments later, another presence joined them, stepping into formation with the rest. Voldran knew that the more of them there were, the better their chances at achieving their objective - but there was also a drawback. The larger the group, the easier it was to detect and locate them within the Force. Still, it was a risk they would have to take if they hoped to succeed.

The man gave Talon a grateful nod.

"Thank you for joining. Your help will be appreciated." he said to the other man.

Voldran glanced at the others with a touch of impatience, silently urging them to move in the correct direction. In truth, he’d been urging them forward ever since they'd landed.
That was when he felt a similar sense of urgency radiating from Khronas .

Deep down, Voldran agreed with his fellow Dark Side Elite member - but he didn’t particularly like being rushed, especially when he himself had already been pushing them onward.
And this tension certainly wasn’t helping their situation.

Thankfully, they continued on, still unnoticed for the time being. As far as he could sense through the Force, Kaleb was guiding them along a path devoid of others. After all, who would use ventilation shafts for navigation? Perhaps someone might flee through them, but Voldran doubted anyone would willingly choose this route otherwise. In any case, it worked to their advantage now.

He listened as Kaleb directed them, explaining the way forward. When the other man mentioned they were nearly there, it was easily the best news Voldran had heard all day.

"Glad to hear it." he said sincerely.

But that’s when everything began to escalate. In the distance, he saw it too - Jedi and soldiers, their forms suddenly duplicated. He had no time to consider whether these were illusions or something else. He was about to reach into the Force to purge his mind of the lingering effects when Kaleb moved ahead and fell into a trap.

The man let out a weary sigh.

There was always something slowing them down, but they would have to figure out a way past this.

He quickly scanned the area for a switch or a terminal - anything - but found nothing. Worse still, Prowler had vanished from their side, teleporting away.

"FETH!" he said.

After a moment's thought, he swung his blade toward the wall - right where the conduits ran. His weapon had been alchemically enhanced, like a Sith sword, which meant it was effectively "grounded" against electrical attacks.

As the blade tore through the wall, the wires sparked violently, severed by the strike. The power within the shaft and the surrounding corridor shorted out. The ventilators and energy barriers went offline. A few seconds later, emergency power kicked in, bathing the area - including where Kaleb had fallen - in crimson light.

The path was clear.

"Move!" he shouted to the others.

He leapt down first, landing near Kaleb, then advanced with firm strides. He saw the other man flailing with his lightsaber, clearly lost in the moment. Voldran moved carefully, doing his best to avoid the strikes, and attempted to seize Kaleb by the shoulder - trying to gripping tightly, trying to bring him back to awareness.

By now, a second wave of Battle Meditation could be felt - thanks to Prowler.

"Calm down, Kaleb. What you’re seeing - it’s not real! We have to move!" he told him.

If Kaleb still failed to snap out of it, Voldran would try to drag him along - anything to get them both moving. He hoped the others were close behind.

They had only a short distance left to the Nexus. With every step, Voldran could feel its influence intensify. Guided by the earlier impressions and the growing presence, they reached the sanctuary within a matter of minutes.

Even here, the power was out. The door stood wide open to receive them. At least something was working in their favour.

"Let’s begin - we don’t have much time!" he urged.

Voldran quickly sought out a spot where he could sit comfortably. He dropped to his knees, settling into a meditative posture. Closing his eyes, he reached out into the Force - and once he attuned to the Nexus, he began to chant…

The ritual to corrupt the Nexus had begun.​

 

[Connel Vanagor]

BATTLE FOR CORUSCANT
CORUSCANT
SENATE BUILDING

Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel
[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]


Location: Temple District Overlook | Seconds after Sunfyre reaches the steps
Broadcast: Hijacked via Alliance frequency relay by Jeremiel

---

NEW JEDI TEMPLE STEPS

Sunfyre has come.

The skyline bleeds fire. The towers once standing over the Temple have collapsed, shelled to carve a path through the city’s soul. Scorch marks crawl up the Temple walls. Statues of ancient Jedi crack and fall, one by one. In the sky, Mordane’s fleet tightens formation. No elegance left. No illusion. Just inevitability.

And at the top of the Temple overlook—
Connel Vanagor fell to one knee.
Not from injury. From everything else.
The sounds of dying fill his ears. The echoes of Caltin’s last stand… the image of Gabriel’s body burning in the wreckage… the knowledge that every soul still standing was about to be crushed beneath a tidal wave of Imperial steel.

He knows what this is.

Another meditation.
Another test.
Another karking lesson he never asked for!

And it enraged him.

He slammed his fist into the stone. Hard enough to bleed. Hard enough to feel something.

Then… he heard it. ~One Jedi CAN make a difference.~

Michael saw something in Connel that he did not need to understand, but he knew what was about to happen. Get him on the feed.

Jeremiel clearly wished Gabriel was here, but he would not let that stop, or even slow him.
Tapping into the Alliance planetary net… Rerouting all frequencies…
Now broadcasting

---

Connel looked up in a visage that was live, unfiltered, and angered but alive.

I don’t have a speech… I don’t have some carefully crafted declaration to make. You want poetry? Go find a damn senator. You want the truth? Here it is.

He stood slowly. As the feed shifted to the Temple burning.
Then to a feed where the Empire gathered. That feed only lasted a moment as a Commander saw the camera and shot it.

I am tired… I am tired of meditating on loss… On balance… On patience. I’m tired of pretending that the death of my friends, my father, my people—was just some lesson from the Force! It wasn’t. It was murder. It was war. It was this. What you're seeing now. And I am DONE running from it!

He threw a cup against the wall.

They think they’ve already won! That because they’ve got more ships, more guns, more bodies to throw at us. They think because they can use their own ships as rocks that they can throw at us—we’ll kneel? Let me remind you of something… A Jedi held this ground once. One Jedi. My father… Against all odds… Against death itself… And if one Jedi can make that kind of difference…

He raised Gabriel’s rifle.

What do you think YOU can do? You, in the bunker with a broken leg and a blaster you haven’t fired in months. You, on the wall with your squad cut in half. You, flying evac because there’s no one left to fight. You think you’re alone? Look around. LOOK! A thousand of us still stand. Wounded. Bleeding… Afraid… but.we.ARE.STILL. HERE!

So don’t believe in me. Don’t believe in legacy, or armor, or bloodlines.

Believe in YOURSELF!

You want to live? FIGHT!
You want to honor the fallen? STAND!
You want to prove this city means something? THEN MAKE THEM EARN EVERY DAMN STEP THEY TAKE! His eyes burn with fury. With purpose. With fire.

We are not ghosts. We are not martyrs. We are not myths. We are the flame.

So rise up.

For every brother and sister they took from us.

For every innocent they lined up on camera.

For everyone they thought would cower in the dark.

He drew Alpha and Omega, blades crossing in front of him.

The Imps want a war? They can burn as well!

---

The feed ended.
But the world did not go quiet.
All across Coruscant, Alliance forces surged.

A platoon of wounded clones charges from a bombed-out shelter with smoke grenades and nothing to lose.
Civilians in the undercity arm themselves and ambush scout walkers with EMPs.
Jedi emerged from collapsed archives, sabers igniting for the first time in years.
Pilots broke formation and dive into impossible odds—not for victory… but for hope.

---

Did the Empire summon a storm?
Maybe.
The problem is…
It just found its wind blowing back at them.

---

BATTLEFIELD – WESTERN FLANK OF THE TEMPLE

The wind shrieked with flame and metal.

Sunfyre has reached the steps. The advance elements of the 181st and the shattered remnants of the 17th have dug in—forming a siege ring around the New Jedi Temple. Walkers bark fire. Troopers press forward through smoke and ash.

But they didn’t know what’s behind them.
Above the ruins of a shattered tramway, the sky split open.

And through it drops a formation of Alliance gunships in low orbit insertion, braving anti-air batteries, hugging the burning wind—

The Indomitable’s war banners trailing behind them like wings of flame.
Inside them: Shock troopers, marine specialists, Evocati-class battle droids, and survivors from half a dozen Alliance regiments long thought lost.

They landed hard.

Crynyd A-wings strafe ahead.
Tornado IIs scream downward, launching warhead salvos into the Sunfyre rear line.
Stealth-Y bombers sliced through rooftops, dropping ion torpedoes onto command walkers.
And in the middle of that storm—Halpern himself, or at least a holovid connection of him from the bridge of the Indomitable. Standing tall, eyes burning.

[We’re not here to hold the line,] he growls through the comm. [We’re here to open the gate.]

---

IMPERIAL REAR GUARD

Sunfyre troops turn—too late.

Their line was going to buckle if they could do nothing as Alliance mechanized elements crash into the rear, working to cut through the tail end of the 17th and collapse the ammo lines. Squads surged forward, clearing buildings room by room. Walker-mounted rockets slammed into remaining entrenched artillery. The battlefield was pure chaos.

… And through that chaos—Omega Squad rose.

---

WESTERN TRENCH – MID-ASSAULT

Connel led the charge.

Short saber in one hand. One rifle in the other. The mask was cracked, but the fire in his soul burns bright.

Michael followed behind, laying down surgical cover fire, clearing a corridor through falling durasteel and shrapnel. Jeremiel, eyes on the squad vitals, jammed comms and pings enemy triage units, collapsing their evac points.

Raphael and Azrael swept the flanks like living battering rams, blowing apart fortifications and driving back Sunfyre squads.

Sariel, perched high, marks command targets—then faded into the smoke. One shot. One kill. Then gone.

---

RIDGE ABOVE THE TEMPLE PLAZA

Alliance troopers—dozens, then hundreds—see Omega push forward. They cheer. Rally. Surge behind them.

They don't know the names.
They don’t see the faces.
But they recognize the silhouette.
The cracked saber.
The shield-marked armor.
The Ghost of Vanagor leading the charge.

---

TEMPLE STEPS – FOOTHOLD ESTABLISHED

Sunfyre troopers fell back under pressure but dug in, they just gained this ground and would not give it up easily. Omega breached a forward trench. Blasterfire lit the air like a dying sun.
Connel found the edge of the ridge and pulled a downed trooper to safety. A kid. No more than twenty. Scared. Bleeding.

The boy looks up. Sees the mask.

“Are… are you him?”

Connel didn’t answer.

He simply offers the soldier Gabriel’s rifle.

You keep moving. That’s how we win.

---

COMMAND FREQUENCY – JEREMIEL TO OMEGA, PRIVATE LINE

[Intercepted enemy update. Intel says Mordane’s still mobile. They’re reinforcing the north corridor of the rotunda. He's not running.He’s waiting for us. Unless this is a “false flag”.]

[Who cares. Let him wait.]

[We’re coming.]

---

FINAL SHOT

Omega Squad surged forward, cloaked in fire, flanked by tanks and troopers, carving a path through war itself.

Connel’s voice was calm, resolute, unshaken:
No more running. No more shadows. We take this all the way.

---

Domaric Mordane • Imperius Indomitus (indirect) • Ibaris Varanin (indirect) • Valery Noble (indirect) • Magdalena Bloodscrawl (indirect)​

 

[Alexandra Feanor]

Location: Maintenance tunnel 23-C
Enroute: Heading back after getting Civilians and Padawans out

Equipment:
Robes
Saber
Spear/Sword
​

---

Alexandra pushed forward, the echoing sound of feet on the metal of the maintenance tunnel. She was certain they would not be able to get our safely, and she had even worked to ensure the Padawans who had training sabers stayed in the back to protect from there. There was likely to be efforts to surround and cut off them from getting out, which is why Alexandra was heading for somewhere specific. Daeda would be able to get them to safety, and she trusted the small fox like being as it was bonded to her.

Her goal was to reach the ship she had used to arrive at the Jedi Temple, resting not too far from the exit of this maintenance tunnel and kept there specifically because she did not feel truly apart of the Jedi. She was always and odd one out and even now she knew that.

The Padawans and Civilians had even worried she was a sith, and the blood staining her white robes crimson did not help. She did kill in a particularly messy way during battle, and it certainly made her look like the enemy. Thankfully, one of the Padawans had developed their senses well enough to know that the scent of malice did not roll off of Alexandra.

Those fears having been quieted helped them to get through the tunnels quickly, but soon she heard others, the heavier sound of feet than what she was expecting. She raised her hand, turning off her saber and breathing in, her hearing tuned in on the smallest of sounds.

Then, there was a voice.

'Keep looking, we cant allow any to leave. And ensure those charges are in place so that we can seal this route.' The voice was rough, somewhat deeper, and the words told her all she needed to know.

Then a message crackled to life on one of their comm-links, something that made her blood boil. Orders that came down, orders that came from Domaric Mordane . Just as she heard them the dull sound of bombings and the feeling of death washing over her with her attunement to the other side still strong after her time there. Her time in death having left quite the mark on her soul, a closeness to it that she wished to be separated from but knew there was no separation she could ever attain.

"Daeda... lead them to the ship, one of them mentioned being able to fly... I have other plans now." She trusted the fox to do as she said, and the others would have heard her hushed words as well. They would watch as the fox moved from Alex's shoulder and onto the shoulder of the Civilian, giving her one last look before nodding.

With that, Alexandra closed her eyes. She breathed in, her shoulders popping and her body shifting forward. Her hands flexed and fingers spread, the sound of bone cracking and shifting for a moment before the result shown. Alexandra's body looking far more like that of an animal in how it stood, shoulders wider and her grabbing at the spear once more. It extended, songsteel scraping across the wall and the song like ring all that was heard as it echoed through.

Then came the next part.

With a flash of white and crimson, she rushed forward, her free hand helping her as she ran in a manner akin to what could only be compared to a lycan. Using her strength and the inhuman features of her new body to appear and slam the first soldier she ran into against the floor. Her hand sinking into them as the clawed hand quieted their heart. The blaster fire came fast, these men well trained and wasting no time on fear.

It was commendable. She would have to inform their commander that they were exceptional soldiers and it was a shame they had been in her path.

As blaster fire scrapped against the beskar weave placed into her robes, the protection that had been prepared thanks to Noah Corek and Yasha Cadera , she would continue. Her hand rising, crimson blood starting to crystalize as the air in the tunnel became frigid, spreading out from her towards the other soldiers.

Those shards of blood soon sent flying, like daggers formed from the very blood of the first man she had killed. The squad finding themselves the victim of their own allies' very source of life. She rushed forward in tandem with the shards, catching a blaster bold in the side of the leg as well as cutting past her cheek. They hit her in the chest a few times too, but the robes protected her there, keeping her from being truly slowed down and with a swing of the songsteel she took out the commander.

Their detonator falling to the ground, unactivated as she continued. One dead to the blood, another with their body tossed against the wall. It was not long before she stood with her breath heavy and eyes opening. The mess left staining the halls and she knew that the cleanup would be unwelcome for whoever did it after all this was over. She looked over to the charges, her hand moving and deactivating them while she stood there.

The others would have gotten past by now, now that the way was cleared and she waited just long enough to be sure they made it out. The ship would be able to get out of here without problem, one quick freighter far from an important target and they would be able to hide far from the temple thanks to it. That made her feel more relaxed, made her less worried as there was far more important things for her to do now.

That was when her eyes ran down towards the comm-link, staring at it for a few seconds before she reached down and grabbed it. Her voice sounding over it, hoping that she would reach the attention of Domaric Mordane or one of his Lieutenants perhaps.

"I apologize for whoever hears this, one of your teams are no longer living. They were well trained, an I can say that whoever trained them should be proud of their work." She paused, breathing in to quiet the pain from the blaster wound that had struck her cheek and nearly taken her head off.

"I believe you will be assaulting the Temple soon, if not now. Ill be waiting, and you will regret ever stepping foot on this planet. I hope this was worth the praise from your false emperor." She would not destroy the comm-link, instead, she left it on her person. Active and able to be tracked, letting those who heard the message know well where she was and where she would be waiting for them.

The feeling of hate, rage, anger, all of it bubbling up again and as she made her way back through the maintenance tunnels she would see the faces of those she long missed and knew were dead. Ashin Cardé Varanin 's efforts continuing to twist at her mind, the faces of Minna and her various other students who she had failed to keep from falling into dark or overwhelming themselves in the Light. Alexandra had always believed there was a middle ground, where strong emotions and intentions with good goals could work together.

She believed that there was more to it than just good or evil, light and dark.

And she knew how ridiculous such thoughts were. She had seen how powerful a being like Darth Carnifex could be, raised and training under his own subordinates and witnessing the greatest generation of Sith Lords that she had been witness to. She had also seen the greatest figures of the Light, Jedi of different flavors and knew well that the middle ground only muddied those abilities.

It was these thoughts that left her to seek the best option on protecting the remaining Jedi and the Temple. She could not defeat an army, and while she could fight Domaric's men for a short time, without aid it was unlikely to do anything more than slow them down while she died too.

Soon while those thoughts continued to consume her mind, while she continued to see the faces of those she killed in the past on the bodies of enemy and ally alike that she passed, she would push her way out of the maintenance tunnels. Only a floor or two above the group led by Voldran Molf , Alexandra would find a place to sit down. Her sabers hanging from her waist and her spear left on the ground infront of her.

The location was a circular room, one that the entrance to the temple would not be far from. She sat at the center of the room, right above the Nexus' origin with it below her. Voldran's group would notice as the Nexus was being pulled on, that it was being called on as she reached out and used it to weave the force in a way she wished. Calling on any life, any plants scattered in the area. The dull pull, the call on the life around her being felt by those in the Biodome that lay far in the back of the Temple. Corazona von Ascania feeling as the plants were being called towards the center of the temple, called towards the direction of the entrance and to gather around whoever was beckoning them to expand beyond the Biodome.

"Your deaths, all of them, I will not seek forgiveness or make excuses. You died for whatever reason it was, be my enemy or friend. It is war and there is nothing righteous about it. Leave me." She would state, her eyes staring at the faces before her and with her reach into the force she would push her own being down into the Nexus. A bright light radiating out from her, spreading through the cracks between the stone and metal of the temple. Drawing further on the nexus as she continued.

Waiting, with the comm-link still active and sitting infront of her.

Waiting, for the doors of the temple to be opened and for those to come to her.

Waiting, to add the faces of so many others to her memories and the dead who would join her being on the other side.

 

[Darth Apophion]

Objective: King of the Hill

Enemies: Thurion Heavenshield​

The Jedi did not want speeches. Yet he managed to make one himself. In these fleeting moments, the Jedi made to him some confession, and the Sith Lord saw a warrior unbroken, but cracked and weathered. He would not die quickly like the others.

"You speak of sorrow as though it were a possession, a badge of grief to outmatch all others. But sorrow is not a contest. It is a procession. It moves through all men. Through all things. And I have marched in it longer than you know. We are all victims of this never-ending war between light and dark. This hollow cycle." Apophion stated.

"When you die, no one will know how you die. Nor your suffering. Nor your dead comrades. Nor your torment. I do not hunger for such offerings."

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, as Thurion marched towards him. His eyes, dark as the void between stars, locked with Thurion's.

His vermilion lightsaber hummed like a hymn to ruin. In his left hand, he held another unlit emitter. ready to activate it at the right moment. Then, without warning, he surged forward and struck. His body remained compact, his core tight, movement flowing through the legs and waist rather than raw shoulder strength. The saber's tip traveled with blinding speed in a single line, clean, silent, fatal. The Sith Lord extended his leading foot sharply, body driving forward intently, and his blade darted out not wide, not high, but a straight, vicious thrust aimed for the narrow space just below the Jedi's left clavicle. The strike was surgically precise. It was not a wild strike, but a honed, purposeful stab meant to exploit the gap between armor and shoulder, where breath meets bone.

 

[Talsin Lota]

​

Talsin smirked at Tansu’s slip.

"Nuh uh," she muttered, shifting her grip. "Keep your hands offa him!" A beat. Her brain caught up with her mouth.
"Chit, I didn't mean—" "—please don't cancel me."

"Are you jealous? Because I might be a little into it," he fired back with a low chuckle, teasing her like always. His grin came quick and sharp, boyish for just a second. The kind of grin only someone who trusted you completely would show in the middle of a warzone.

Two idiots on the same wavelength. Sharing one brain cell and passing it back and forth like a flask.

Balance, right? That was the saying. If you love someone, you ought to be willing to say something just as cancelable and walk off the canyon together, hand in hand.

That had to be what they said.

"Tal, Ell and Ell"

“Yes, ma’am.”

He turned to face the assassin. The shift was instinctive. Feet angled, blade ready. His posture narrowed, becoming sharp where it had been relaxed just seconds before. His energy shifted to match hers. Cold focus. He had trained for this. Fought for this. He knew what to do.

Tansu would pull the Lasso. He’d be the Lance. They’d trained this movement so many times it should have played out like choreography. In the past, he would tease her that this was just like the ballroom dancing they’d be forced to practice later. Just another way for their bodies to synchronize and know exactly what to do without thinking about it.

But she would see him falter. Just a few breaths in, right as they committed themselves, locked them into a maneuver they had done a million times before. Talsin just stopped moving and the look in his eyes went from steady to something else. Something distant. Haunted. Like he’d stepped backward into a room no one else could see.

All across the battlefields of the Coruscant system, for moments long enough to understand what they were seeing, many, many combatants — she tried for all — saw true and silent visions of the fallen.

Not those who'd meant the most to them, no.

They each saw, in plain and goreless solemness for the gravity of the deed, with no self-indulgent sense of absolution, every person they had ever killed.

Talsin’s heart beat once. Loud. Then it slowed.

A handful of faces flickered past his vision. There were men and women he had struck down with righteous cause. Raiders. Butchers. Darkside warlords who fed on fear. He had no guilt for them, because he had given them plenty of opportunities to lay down their weapons. To give up and seek a better path for themselves and those around them. They had refused. That was all that mattered in the end.

But the vision did not stop there.

Two others stepped forward.

His parents.

They looked just as they had in the holos. His father’s lined face, always too serious. His mother’s stubborn jaw and kind eyes. They were wearing travel clothes. Half-packed. Caught mid-motion as they had been that day. Trying to leave Empress Teta before the planet fell. Before the next wave came crashing through.

He should have been with them.

They asked him back then to be with them. Their own intelligence apparatus suggested something big was coming. But Talsin said no, because they'd have the whole House Lota behind them. What was one more man with saber in that case? He'd be much more useful elsewhere, where he had maximum impact and could assist.

He had told himself it would be fine, rationalized it even, until Talsin committed to a mission on Coruscant instead.

And then they were killed. By an assassin hired by the enemy for the crime of loyalty. House Lota had always been loyal to the Galactic Alliance and his parents paid the price for that.

It hadn’t been his blade. But it might as well have been.

Talsin stood there as the battlefield blurred. The durasteel beneath his boots felt far away. The colors of the hangar bled into ash. He was no longer here. He was back there. Watching the moment he could never change.

“F... Father? Mother?”

His voice cracked. His lightsaber slipped from his fingers and struck the deck with a dull clatter. In that moment Talsin didn’t even feel it leave his hand, because he was several lightyears away. On Teta where he should have been on that day. Instead of on Coruscant... the same way he was on Coruscant right now rather than on Teta where his House was.

There were no wounds on their bodies, but he could still hear the feedback of the blaster that murdered his mother. He could still hear the silence that followed. The kind that sticks in your lungs and makes you feel like you're the one suffocating.

He had been too far away.

And now, in the middle of another fight, against another assassin, he was too far away again. Somewhere behind the vision, he thought he heard the sizzle of plasma. A footstep. A shape. But it was far away, and he couldn't make it matter.

He stood wide open, exposed, with his guard gone.

For one fragile breath, Talsin Lota was not a Jedi. Not the Duke of his House.

Just a son who hadn't been there when his blood needed him most.

OPS: Zantra | GE
ALLIES: Tansu Treicolt | GA

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Zaavik Perl //: Tayiji //:
//: Drystan Creed //: Meliant //:
//: Attire //:
//: Equipment //:
//: Bow & Arrows //: Cybernetic Eye //: Jacket //: Arrows of Absence x 24 //: Bag of Absencite x 5ea //: Sword //:
//: Non Transferable "Equipment" //:
//: Ava'kash Brand //: Emperor's Echo //:

Allyson watched as the man leapt back, falling into the Force, cloaking himself, like he had been taught. It was enough beyond his force presence to know that Zaavik had somehow returned. There wasn't much time for her to think, once the explosion and Zaavik moved to the shadows. The cybernetic kept an eye on his movements as well as the seconds, but as things cleared up, it was apparent she was targeted.
Or they were going to try to find her.

Keeping to the shadows, things were splitting up, and Allyson frowned, seeing that she was the unlucky soul who was going to have to deal with two of them.

First came the swing of the saber; she was still far enough from the pair that she didn't need to move, but she did anyway. Stepping back gave her more distance and time to draw another arrow. Instead of another explosive, she pulled one of the absencite arrows, seeing that the pair were force users, it would help.

The cybernetic eye kept a watchful eye on Zaavik, along with her own senses, preparing to flare up if he began to get closer. Drawing the null arrow, she took only a moment to aim. Between swings, she fueled her body through the Force and then released. She aimed for the chest of the man who was coming forward; if she could take him out, her attention could focus on Zaavik.

The absencite arrow zipped through the air, and as it left Allyson's vicinity, the arrow activated its null area. Hopefully, with the brand and the bow's enchantments that muddled a Force user's danger sense/precognition, she could have a jump on him.

The moment the arrow was airborne, Allyson moved again. She needed to keep her distance, and she focused on looking where Zaavik might be creeping. The last thing she wanted was a surprise from him. Another arrow found its place bound by the string as she waited.

Why was he here? She kept asking herself the same question. Why would this group want him?

The more Allyson speculated, the worse it got. Her hand tightened on the neck of the bow as she did her best to find a good sniper's nest. All the shadow needed was a few good shots, and she could help Drystan - though the boy seemed to be doing well on his own.

As much as she was an ally, she couldn't trust anyone in this room.

Unknown to her was the magic that was occurring. Her shielded mind kept the horrors of her past and the battle meditations from hindering her ability to fight.

 

[Mercy]

Objective: Cause mayhem & Pursuing "Shadow Bounty - The Jedi Archives".
Ally: This one karking tin can soldier, Koda Fett | Velis Arden Tobi Sharpe
Enemies: A whole lotta people apparently, Zark San Tekka | CT-312 | Allyson Locke | Braze
Currently engaged with: Quinn Varanin

"Not without my score," he warned in a sideways glance.

"Then end that Jedi so my critters can finish the job." She shot back at him. That was the trouble with eldritch vermin eating through something you wanted to protect: You could extinguish one, but they'd just multiply, if you didn't commit. If Zark wanted to put a stop to them chewing through it and transmitting the data off-site... he'd have to really throw himself at the problem and expose himself to Koda's fire.

"Oh, Knave, I was starting to think the galaxy had finally grown tired of your arrogance."

The electric sphere began to spark back to life in her hand.

"But here you are again. Just in time to beg."

Mercy pivoted hard towards that voice. No karking way. It was the prissy little princess herself. Mercy wasn't sure what Quinn was doing here or why she was on the side of the Jedi. If there was ever a Sith, noble-born and spiteful, it was Quinn Varanin. Daughter of Ashin Cardé Varanin and Spencer Varanin .

But here she was.

"I see you are still a prissy shutta. I'd have thought your little Academy would have beaten that out of you by now." She hissed again as Ashin's ritual kept trying to distract her from the task at hand. The idea of murdering people was to take them out of the equation. Somehow these souls hadn't been told that. They were being a nuisance: wailing and screaming like little rabbits. How often did Mercy have to shut them out?

So distracted Mercy was that she didn't even realize Quinn had moved until she was already on her.

Mercy blinked and grabbed the Sith Princess by the throat. Her fingers curled around her flesh hard and she grinned. "Got you." So caught up in triumph she didn’t sense the danger until it hit. Kinetite smashed into her ribs and it felt like a cannonball. She crashed into the archive wall with a crunch that echoed off the marble. Her vision blurred while blood spilled down her chin.

But her hand never let go.

"I haven't beaten you in such a long time, princess." Mercy growled through grit teeth, hauling Quinn closer, while she gazed down at her. "Let's see if you still have it in you to take what I have to offer."

Her other fist, the karked-up one, all liquid gold and menace, cocked back. The tendons in that eldritch arm bulged and the strike would come fast. Aimed downward, brutal, full of Force and fury.

 

[Vulpesen]

Objective: KOTH. Take out the sith incursion.
Allies: Alexandra Feanor (Codenamed Teradin)
Enemies: All sith forces
Tags: @open

It was some galactic joke. It had to be. A joke played by the force on Vulpesen. When Veradune accepted the Galactic Alliance to tis soil, Vulpesen and his fellow arch wilders had accepted the jedi order into their glades. The spirit of cooperation and friendship were in full swing that day. Since then, in an attempt to solidify their order and their place within an alliance already rife of worship of their kind, the jedi had closed their doors to envoys such as himself. And yet, here he was. His foot steps echoed against the marble floors, not in conquest or anger as the jedi might have deserved for spurning him yet again. No, as always, he came to the defense of this ancient institution. Some joke indeed.

[Cyclone! Sweep the halls! See an imperial, shoot an imperial!] Vulpesen's tail lashed as he reached out with his senses. It seemed as though the force wasn't done playing the part of the jester. Somewhere in this temple, fighting as they always would was another who had walked his path. But she had not given up the mantle as he had. No, Alexandra Feanor was too much a paragon of the light nowadays for that. The jedi were her second lease on life. For Vulpesen, they were the first of many mistakes. But for all their faults and personal slights, he couldn't deny the good the jedi had done when he was busy attending to his own affairs. [Trident, Teradin is in play. Keep an eye out for her and support if you find her.]

 

[Rann Thress]

TAGS: Rikuan Everest Vale
EQUIPMENT: Rann's Lightsabers

Nothing else mattered for a moment. Just the fight. Two troopers down already. A couple more the kid could handle next to them, taking their positions.
He let him. He wasn't his master. The duty of protecting him wasn't Rann's. There was a battle to win, after all and Rann couldn't play baby sitter. He advanced down the hallway a few steps, sabers raised menacingly, pointing straight ahead, as another squad of troopers turned and began to take their own positions. They needed Rann's full attention, and they'd get it. Reaching out with the Force, Rann grabbed them by their chest plates and began crushing them. Molding the armor against their bodies as they screamed in pain.

It's what they got, after all. For all the pain they've caused here today. For the work of their masters. They deserved this pain. This suffering. This slow death.

Rann would have kept going, too. But suddenly he was knocked forward and he stumbled and fell onto his knees, his connection breaking and the squad of troopers falling to the ground in agony, broken ribs pressed against their armor. Rann looked at them, frustrated at the fact the job was not finished and looked back to figure out why. Rikuan lie on the ground, smoke rising from a blaster burn in his shoulder, and the trooper responsible was looking to finish the job.

He should have protected the kid. Why didn't he? He shouldn't have had to. But he should have. Why didn't he? Why was this kid here? He was Rann's friend, not just a kid. They were comrades, not strangers. He should---he didn't nee-he did need to. And he didn't. He failed.

He failed.

As I knew you would.

Rann roared in rage and threw his lightsabers, both of them, straight forward with the Force, the violet blades impaled the stormtroopers shoulders and the force of the throw pinned him against the wall. The trooper yelled in agony as Rann rose to his feet. He summoned the blades back and caused the trooper to fall to the ground howling in pain. Rann went to approach, finish the job, when out of the corner of his eye he noticed another trooper approaching Rikuan and raise his rifle. Too quick, too late. Rann's eyes went wide, "No!" he shouted.

And a flash of light appeared, dropping the trooper. Rann locked eyes with hers, reconciling his failure. He should have kept Rikuan safe. Rikuan kept him safe, almost got killed saving Rann. Yet Rann focused on the fight. The kill...why? He was better than this. He disignited his lightsabers and returned them to his belt, his eyes dropping in shame before the howls of the wounded summoned his attention again. He looked back to the squad of troopers writhing, then at the trooper he had impaled to the wall, and raised a hand, twisting it slightly. At once, the Force surrounded the helmets of the troopers and lifted before bashing into the nearest surface just hard enough to send them unconscious. They didn't deserve to be in pain, but Rann didn't have the heart to kill them. Instead, he joined the stranger, Eve, at Rikuan's side.

"Hey bud," he forced a smile, "You shouldn't have...thank you," Rann reached out and took Rikuan's hand. "It don't look too bad. It feel too bad?" He raised his eyes and looked at Eve. He felt that look in her eye. He hated that look, and looked down again, "I'm sorry, Rikuan. I should have helped you, and I didn't... I'm sorry."

 

[Rikuan]

✦ RIKUAN ✦
"Ride the wind, dodge the rules."

LOCATION: Coruscant - Inside the Jedi Temple
OUTFIT: Tribal Jedi Robes
WEAPONS: Lightsaber
TAGS: Rann Thress | Everest Vale - OPEN

The cacophony of blaster fire and lightsabers pressed against his ears. Maybe it was Rann, maybe it meant he wouldn't be able to get to him in time.

Rikuan squeezed his eyes shut, preparing to see the ancestors. He cringed to himself, realizing he'd go down as the Windtouched who never achieved worth a damn - except joining the Jedi Order at least. But, it was nothing compared to the Windtouched of the past - like the Trickster Tuul. What'd he be remembered as? Rikuan the Reckless... yeah, that tracked actually.

Eyes still closed, he only heard the sound of commotion, the familiar stike of a lightsaber. Followed by the sudden release of pressure from his tail. Rann had saved him. Smiling weakly, he opened his eyes to see... someone who definitely wasn't Rann. It was a woman. With an eyepatch. Clearly a Jedi based on what she was wearing. But she had this ethereal air about her. Pale skin, platinum hair and white robes Like an...

"... Angel?" he uttered. not even hearing her first question.

The Makurian winced, hissing through his teeth as she turned his arm to examine his wound. She assured him that he was safe, and despite the sounds of muffled blaster fire and explosions outside - he believed her. Rikuan steadied his breathing, slowly inhaling through his nose and exhaling out of his mouth.

His amber eyes watched as the woman's hand hovered over his wound, some sort of energy illuminated from her palm. Panicking slightly, the pace of his breathing began to speed up again.

"What're you--?" Rikuan asked, albeit weakly.

Then relief followed and he let out a relaxed sigh. Finally, the woman introduced herself as Eve. Gaze meeting hers, he offered her a faint smile with slightly bared teeth.

"Rikuan. Hi. And... thanks. This feels really good."

Just as he began to wonder about Rann. If he was okay. He came, looking worse for wear... not physically, but mentally, spirtually, and emotionally. Rann tried to play things off, but it was written all over the man's face. Rikuan squeezed Rann's hand, flashing him his trademark easy-going smile.

"'Tis but a flesh wound. I'll--ow--live." he chuckled "Don't apologize, Space Hunk. I'd do it all over again."

The moment lingered, a rare flicker of warmth in the hellstorm. But it didn't last. Because then the ground rumbled. Not just nearby, it was everywhere. The chaos swelled into something seismic... a bass roar rolling toward them like a tidal wave. Blasterfire, shrieking TIE engines, the scream of steel collapsing. Rikuan's ears flattened.

It didn't take long for the comms to light up. Frantic voices. Whole districts gone. The outer lines swallowed in flame. The Empire was burning the city to trap them inside the Temple.

Rikuan turned to Eve and Rann, ears twitching. "I think this is it." he called his lightsaber into his left hand.

Somewhere through the static, a voice rose, Connel Vanagor , not just calling for resistance, but for belief. And Rikuan felt it spark in his chest. Tail coiling around his lightsaber, Rikuan struggled to his feet.

"You heard the man. Last stand here and now." Rikuan said, confidently, lightsaber igniting wrapped in his tail.

​

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[Zark San Tekka]

ARCHIVES
NEW JEDI TEMPLE
Koda Fett CT-312 Quinn Varanin Mercy Tobi Sharpe Alexandra Feanor

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Master Zark loomed over the bounty hunter's muscle but his electrum death mask stared past her in quiet contemplation of the insidious virus spreading throughout Jedi databanks. Moments later Quinn struck with unnatural speed removing the darksider as an obstacle and the temple guard strode past the grappling women as if he'd expected this to happen all along.

Imperial soldiers and hired mercenaries were drawn into the fighting like shadowmoths to a flame. Braze and the trooper Zark had almost struck down upon his arrival were handling it for now but he could feel time slipping away like grains of sand in an hourglass.

"Broken saber. Grandmaster Noble, the archives are under-"

His transmission to Valery Noble was cut off by choking gasps as yossubi gas overwhelmed his mask's seal. Brought down to one knee, the old master barely managed to bring his flickering shield gauntlet back online and absorb a wave of micro-missiles. Confused whether he should trust his feelings, Zark never saw Koda's crushgaunt coming.

Heavy duraplast crumpled and the temple guard was lifted off his feet by the punch. San Tekka landed hard enough on the balcony stairs to shatter marble. He stared up at the ceiling's beautiful craftsmanship while sucking in painful gasps of air through broken ribs. Blood trickling from his mask the Jedi raised a hand towards Koda as if in surrender.

Behind the bounty hunter Zark's lightsaber trembled. Golden blade humming back to life it spun towards its master and anyone unfortunate enough to be standing between them.

 

[Tobi Sharpe]

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| Location | Jedi Temple, Coruscant​

| Objective | Steal some Data​

| Bounty | [ x ] / Anyone else with a price​

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Tobi flopped and laid down with his back flat against the floor after his prior outburst following even more explosions going off in his proximity. He could just lie there and let everything roll over, maybe scavenge something from the rubble of the aftermath. No one would be any the wiser if he just played possum, just an unfortunate casualty of the shitshow that was the situation in the archives. He stared up at the cracked ceiling, watching as smoke, dust, ash, shattered shelves and flames filled the air. It was oddly cozy in a weird way, and he was used to being a bum laying down in hard places when he was in between jobs and low on credits.​

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Then he heard it.​

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”The cowboy pirate.” CT-312 said sharply. “In the archives.” Her rifle aimed. “Light him up.”​

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He glanced upwards as his vision caught sight of the trooper giving an order to one of those crazy droids that had been blowing up the archives. "Mother fudger..." He raised his right hand up to his hat as he scrambled to his feet to haul ass, making a run for it. He made a mad run for it as he thought himself to be in the clear, only for a concussive shot to hit his left arm, blowing it off entirely from the elbow down, his weapon in hand getting sent skittering off along the ground. He hit the ground flat on his face as he dove for cover, out of sight of the droid, grunting as he glanced down at his left arm to find it gone. ​

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Good news, his left arm was a cybernetic, meaning he could get a new one. Bad news, that was his shooting arm, and also spare slugs began pouring out of a hidden ammunition tube that was now ruptured. One of his rounds rolled by his face as he reached out to chomp down on the end of it, cradling it in his teeth like a cigarette, scrambling back to his feet as he looked around for his gun. He tried to mumble/mutter something but it was muffled with the slug in between his teeth. Something about Lady Luck and then getting absolutely reamed.​

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✩ Ace in the Hole ✩
[✬] [ ] [ ]

Koda Fett | Mercy | CT-312 | Quinn Varanin | Zark San Tekka | Braze

 

[Prael'rs'akinc]

Objective: 3, Cinders
Location: Coruscant High Orbit
Tags: [Allies] (Direct) Gym Halpern / Mykel Dawson (Inderect) Valery Noble
[Enemies] (Direct) Remus Adair / St. Thomas Barran (Indirect) Ibaris Varanin / Aldo Garrick

Prael'rs'akinc watched her board to see the effects of her Floatilla's pass on the Vexation, only to see a hypervelosity round slam into the ship's hull around the same time as the warheads from her X-wings. She couldn't tell what her damage was in the confusion of the attacks, though that was only a matter of personal pride and wanting to ensure that she hadn't sent her pilots to their deaths fruitlessly.

Unfortunately, she'd see more death and destruction as something started pulling all sorts of debris in towards the dreadnought, several of Elrsak's X-wings collided with some of the larger chunks of debris and exploded as even her own ship was yanked off course.

Before she had to ask, one of her crew reported in from their station. "Gravity well generators on the Vexation are going haywire, it's pulling everything in."

"Signal the flotilla with the comms laser, flank speed away from the Vexation with best possible Delta V," She ordered before turning to her weapons coordinator, "Use the tractor beams and cannons to keep the path clear."

Just when she thought the ships might get clear of the mess, two things happened. First, some genius had called up a mass of civilian ships into the battle space, and with the nature of the comms jamming, she couldn't warn anyone about the mess. The second was a massive shock that threw the bridge crew of the Void Lance from their stations, and the shrill squealing of metal tearing reverberated through the ship.

Through a vacuum alarm, the tone specially formulated to carry through thinner air better, the comm in Elrsak's suit squeeled to life. "Damage Control here, Ma'am, we lost two of the engines, sheared right off, we had to shut down the reactor, no ETA on bringing it back online, currently running on battery back-ups."

"Acknowledged, just keep us from falling apart," She quickly responded before throwing herself at the sensor station.

Elrsak had been lucky, they were far enough from the Vexation that their accumulated velocity and some towing from the Void Dragon and Void Tracker meant they weren't going to be sucked back into the mess. She also saw that the Void Stalker and Void Talon had been struck by debris, though they were still battle-worthy. Very close, off to port, an Anaxes-class Missile Cruiser floated, mostly intact, as a lucky strike had exposed the bridge to vacuum, killing the bridge crew and taking the ship out of the battle with minimal damage.

A plan struck Elrsak, and she started to go through the process of transferring her flag to a new vessel and purging data from the Void Lance's computers.

As everything was ready, she hit the intercoms. "All crew! All crew! Prepare to abandon ship, make for the ANS Tenacity."

Queuing the message to repeat, Elrsak made for one of the bridge escape pods, her first officer to the other, as the rest of the crew piled in, ensuring that one lucky shot couldn't take out the entire command crew as they transferred.

Spoiler: Void Hounds, 775m/900m+1000m

Anaxes-Class Missile Cruiser - ANS Tenacity - Accepting crew from ANS Void Lance, Minor Damage
Captain -Cmd. Prae'ls'akinc

Bel Iblis-class Corvette - ANS Void Lance - Abandoned, Heavily Damaged
Captain - N/A
Nova Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (14/16)
Aurora Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (11/16)

Bel Iblis-class Corvette - ANS Void Dragon - Undamaged
Captain - Lt. Vero Olen (M Human)
Thunderbolt Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (15/16)
Hellstorm Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (13/16)

Bel Iblis-class Corvette - ANS Void Tracker - Undamaged
Captain - Lt. Kandra Thorne (F Human)
Stormhawk Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (14/16)
Viper Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (15/16)

Bel Iblis-class Corvette - ANS Void Stalker - Damaged
Captain - Sr. Lt. Trov Nee'Fray (M Bothan)
Vanguard Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (8/16)
Marauder Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (15/16)

Bel Iblis-class Corvette - ANS Void Hunter - Undamaged
Captain - Lt. Ronis Daival (M Human)
Wyvern Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (15/16)
Cerberus Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (12/16)

Bel Iblis-class Corvette - ANS Void Talon - Damaged
Captain - Lt. Rik Hamne (M Human)
Saber Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (14/16)
Dagger Squadron: GAX-75 X-Wing Starfighter (15/16)

Pilots with damaged but functional craft: 11
Pilots in space needing rescue: 5
Pilots KIA: 24
Pilots Rescued: 4

 

[DT-7747]

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| Location | Power District, Coruscant​

| Objective | Infiltrate and Engage ​

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The corpse that 7747 had freshly made hit the ground in a wet splat, blood pooling on the ground as they reached into their satchel and attached a detonator along one of the power generators that helped power the planetary shields, methodically moving from one section to the next, silently dispatching any sentries that were alerted to the sound of blaster fire, taking them by surprise from the shadows before meeting their end by their knife's cold embrace.​

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7747 oddly seemed unaffected by the effects of all the battle meditations being put into play. They did not react to the visions, nor seemed moved by anything they saw. They moved and executed their actions like a machine, without a sense of morality or a soul - like a greater power pulled their strings and commanded them to do what they did best - Fight... Kill... Obey...​

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The flames of conflict were stoked, embers growing into raging infernos, and with every bolt fired, every death given, their tithes paid. This was their reality, their destiny, to give unto him. With each life offered, so to did the offering that 7767's master tribute unto the Sith'ari, Darth Solipsis - unto he who roused their slumber, and awoken with renewed purpose and hunger.​

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The deathtrooper finally spoke, its heavily vocoded and modulated voice seeming to struggle to speak, as if finally using vocal chords that had not been used in a long time.​

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"A̶l̵l̵.̵.̶.̸H̵a̶n̷d̶s̸.̶.̴.̴U̶n̶t̶o̸.̴.̴.̶W̷a̶r̷.̴.̴.̴"
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Bellum Contra Omnes... The war against all... ​

Heed his call, serve his will, die in his name.
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Give purpose to a lifetime of servitude, with an eternal reward.​

Sid Berik | DT-1966 | Abraxas Colt | Veno​