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

[Sahar]

​

"You're wrong." - Ran Serys

Am I?

It seemed there was a fight in this Jedi after all, because the Mirialan soon gained strength and charged Sahar head-on, her eyes widened in surprise for perhaps the first time in forever behind the visor as the woman's forehead made contact with her mask and cracked the visor wide open. Forced back, Sahar was numb to the initial shock. She felt her heart pump adrenaline through her veins at a rapid pace, and she could not stifle a thrilled laugh, which was throttled short by a successive series of elbows and punches which broke her mask and dented it to the point where the darksider could not even see.

"Shall I tell you what I see for you, Inquisitor?" - Ran Serys

If she could've answered, it was cut short by one final brutal knee to the centre of her mask, sending Sahar crashing against a shelf. She pulled off the remnants of her mask, looking up with yellow-orange eyes that reeked of hatred and malice. Sahar looked already dead, with corpse-like skin and deep sunken eyes. She spat a glob of black blood in the direction of the Mirialan warrior as she raised her saber up to push aside an incoming strike, as she regained her footing and pressed on.

Fuelled by the darkside emanating inside of her mind and body, Sahar, with a flick of her wrist, force pushed the shelf towards the Jedi, a bloodied manic grin on her face as the pair traded increasingly brutal and sloppy blows. The thrill of the fight and the darkness radiating inside her made her savour every moment, even as one of the Mirialans' blows slipped under and burned the armour on her hip. Her flesh burned and sizzled; luckily, it was only a glancing blow, but it still burned her thigh. But it didn't bother her none.

She felt alive.

Pain and hatred made her feel alive; it was the only motivation that kept the former Imperial knight standing. The most human emotions she still felt.

The one thing he never robbed her of.

Ran Serys Ren Shannic Wulf Darth Solipsis ​

 

[Kain Aldore]

Direct: Da'Razel Kelig Ward Dean Walker
Nearby: Darth Solipsis Sahar Ren Ran Serys Caelan Valoren | Katherine Holt Ellayina L'lerim

Was that it? Kain watched as Da'Razel flung backwards like a ragdoll from his push. His body crashing through the archway. Kain looked on with a raised brow. Had he gone too far?
Of course not.
The armor clad man exited with a newfound drive. Kains head hung as he took a deep breath, then released it. He stood straight and began walking through the residual flames, only glancing around in interest as they turned from orange to a hot white. Yet with each step the barrier he'd formed around himself pushed the fire at his feet away. The heat however began to flicker at the flight suit, uncomfortable yes, but luckily the clothing was built for extremes like a cockpit fire.

That cocky look on his face faded, his brow furrowed, cheek bones raised. Something not befitting a Jedi, but suiting him just fine. Rage, but not righteous. This was unadulterated fury.

War. Innocent lives were going to be lost today. Kain himself had already taken a handful. Were they just following orders? Or were they zealots like this man in front of him? And what was it all for? The lives lost, the propaganda, the paranoia en masse. Was it ego? Pride? Or just the euphoria of destruction? It had gone on too long, and Kain: had enough.

He glanced up as the scream of Darth Solipsis echoed through the room. It seemed the Jedi were struggling. And that shout was commanding, enough that even Kain felt like words weren't enough. Actions were now needed. As the rain of sparks fell, glancing off his barrier, and the red lightning lit up the skybox of the rotunda. Kain needed to make a choice, divide his attention and run interference for Ran Serys and Ren . Or focus on killing this brute in front of him.

He needed to believe the Jedi could fend for themselves against Solipsis.

"Do it"

He then heard the chanting from Da'Razel, just watching as the blade came free from its housing. Then the pit in Kain's stomach formed as the sound echoed outwards. It wasn't fear of his opponent though. it was worry. How far would he have to go to stop this?

"Alright Goldilocks, let's dance." His saber lifted into a proper stance, sharper and more deliberate than before. But Kain wasn't reckless. Something told him Da'Razel wasn't the type to meet in saber-lock and walk away unscathed. So his free hand extended beside him, fingers splaying wide as he reached out to a suspended dais near the top of the chamber.

He clenched his fist. Then wrenched it downward. The plan was simple: javelin the platform down to force movement, buy space, or maybe just crush him. But the Force had other ideas. His grip tore stronger than expected. Enough that the targeted dais didn't just fall. It buckled, snapped from its supports with a screech of metal, and slammed hard into the lower floor just wide of Da'Razel.

Several nearby platforms shifted with the impact, some tipping violently, others collapsing into awkward angles. A wide, staggered opening now gaped where seating once stood.

It wasn't what he meant to do, but it worked. A clear point of entry. Kain blinked once. Then twice. "...Seriously?" Valery Noble had warned him stasis would cause unintended actions. Guess she was right. His equilibrium was completely off. He'd meant to throw a punch, not rearrange the floor plan. Any more unintended actions like that and he'd be bringing the ceiling down too.

"Okay then... lesson learned." He tightened his stance, saber returning to both hands. At the very least, if Da'Razel wanted theatrics. Now they had a stage. But there was a bigger problem. Kain, historically, had fantastic control of his power. That wasn't control. He'd need to shape up mid fight, or he'd be the one dying faster. And on a deeper note, he might be the one in need of help instead of those above.

 

[Talsin Lota]

CORUSCANT | GALACTIC CITY SPACEPORT | BAY 12
objective uno
​

Zantra should have finished him off while he was dealing with his crisis.

Instead she went after the one thing that could snap him out of the emotional damage. It was Tansu Treicolt 's cry that broke through the haze of pain and trauma. He blinked and his gaze snapped towards the sound. She was in danger. She was in danger. Talsin didn't think and instead just moved, forward, towards the battle Tansu was having with Zantra's tentacles.

Her red saber came streaking past him, brushing the side of his shoulder mid-sprint. A flash of heat. The sear of flesh.

He hissed, but it didn't matter.

He vaulted over the writhing ferro-cables, pivoting mid-air. His saber ignited just in time to carve through the pair of snapping limbs, releasing Tansu before he landed beside her with a heavy, bracing step.

"I am here." His tone weary, pained, but not from the physical damage. The ache hadn't left. Not really. His mind still reeled with the shape of the memory burned into him. His mother's face. His father's voice. He could still hear that silence, gnawing at the edges of his focus like a wound that wouldn't close. But there was no time to sit with it. Because there was one thing more powerful than their memory. Tansu's cry. That sound had cut deeper than the grief, because it had reminded him that he could still lose more.

He couldn't afford to fall apart. Not yet.

For now Talsin had to be a Jedi, he had to be strong... just for a little while.

"Let's go again."

Behind his back and in view of Tansu's attention, he'd flash a handsignal. The one that told her he'd go straight at their target to create opportunity. Giving Tansu the ability to exploit it. Right after that Talsin pushed off the deck in a blur, the Force flooding his body with forward momentum. The saber crackled to life in his grip as he drove toward Zantra's legs. The blue saber lashed horizontally towards her legs.

Not to cut them off, but to force her to move and set herself up for Tansu.

 

[Prowler II]

​

Location: THE SEPULCHRE / THE QABBRAT
Allies: Ashin Cardé Varanin Ibaris Varanin
Objective: Divine utterance and Judgements

It was the silence between that unsettled Prowler the most. The few moments that made his psyche churn with anticipation. Doubts churning in the recesses of his mind, only to be smothered by zeal and belief in his Master. If the parasitic entity had any concept of time or perception of it, it came from this singular moment when the battle of Coruscant tilted back and forth. Peace vs Order. The Sepulchre shook lightly in its interior. A constant warning and reminder of the newly formed citizen fleet that dared to resist Imperial rule. Even now the imperial navy was engaged in combat with galactic alliance forces and the ragtag fleet.

Prowler could sense it all through his battle meditation. He could also perceive the growing shield of light that remained strong. A metaphysical barrier stewarded by the Jedi and he could to little against it. Or so he thought. Midst recovering his strength, the dark tethers of his bond with his Master expanded. A unperceived barriers and dams were removed, what came through took the Arkanian elders mental and metaphysical being by storm! The veins in his head and neck becoming pronounce in vascularity. Dark ecstasy and awe contorting his aura to manifest! A dark vermillion shroud engulfed him, blackening his veins and seeking routes to spread to Ibaris and Ashin as well. Standing to his feet, Prowler clenched his fists hard enough to draw blood, threw his head back and opened his maw!

The sith meditative chamber that was the Qabbrat groaned. Its internal structure mimicking a cry or scream in strain and relief all at once. Echoing out across invisible planes and carried on the currents of the Force. Force Scream. A instinctive non-verbal utterance and unconscious psychic leak that threatened to incapacitate the collective Jedi Battle meditation ([ Valery Noble Taam Moghul Caltin Vanagor Corin Kaze Magdalena Bloodscrawl Corazona von Ascania ]). An echo that erupted from Prowler himself! Like a dead god he screamed and felt words of power burn into his essence! White eyes faded and turned black as the void.

A low hum filled the chamber as shadows bent unnaturally, flickering around him in sickly rhythm. From his cracked lips came no shout, no scream, only a whisper that traveled not through sound.

It entered Prowler.

It seared into his mind like scripture burned onto flesh.

"Vykti Nuyak Midwan"

Take my power.

The Sith'ari's corporeal form ignited in a dark vermillion aura, his eyes blackening. He drew upon the connection with his DARK SIDE ELITE bolstering their strength, pouring his dark energies into their being.

TASTE MY POWER.

The Emperor embraced Prowler II, focusing the majority of his dark potency upon his faithful adherent. His terrible visage became manifest, pouring through the veil.

"Zhol kash dinora."

IT IS DONE.

Within the minds eye, Prowler ceased to be and beheld the visage of Darth Solipsis and his unflinching gaze. An observance that seared away the elderly arkanian host body and plunged into the Netherworld of the force to see Prowler as he truly was. A thought form, a space wraith. For the first time, Prowler experienced his essence being measured and examined in detail. Doubts associated with the liminal world disintegrated away, the perception of realspace deafened leaving only pure consciousness. It was difficult to tell who and what was directing his physical actions. Who was in control?

The mouth of the zealous elder moved in place speaking profane words. Chanting in Ur-Kittat. The vermillion aura that shrouded and blanketed him taking form and seeking out hosts to tether from within the Sepulchre and beyond. Linking with pilots of the citizen fleet in their evasive maneuvers and coordination, galactic alliance navy officers in their command, imperial soldiers defending against boarders and the citizens of coruscant below. Creating invisible shackles and chains of darkside energy and using the connected hosts own vitality to nightmares. Force Phantoms.

How will you defeat that which you sweared to protect?

Location: Upper atmosphere
Objective: Psychological Warfare
Enemies: Amelia von Sorenn Gym Halpern Prael'rs'akinc Nathan Bloodscrawl
Allies: St. Thomas Barran Remus Adair SCAR Aldo Garrick

​

High above Coruscant, something changed.

At first, it was barely noticed. A thin band of dark clouds formed across the upper sky, almost like a shadow stretching over the planet. But within minutes, those clouds thickened. They turned from dull gray to a deep, angry purple. The light began to dim, and the air grew heavy. Heavier than before. There was no wind, no rain. Just stillness.

Then the thunderclap came. Not a singular rumble and BOOM, but a constant echo, distant yet close, like the growl of some massive beast. Purple lightning started flashing inside the clouds. First random, then rhythmic, pulsing like a heartbeat. Slow, steady, powerful. In between each flash, a sound started to rise. At first, it was hard to tell if it was just part of the storm. But then it became clear. It was a laugh. A low, smooth chuckle, almost amused. Deep and rich like velvet, the laugh echoed across the sky, bouncing between the clouds and the buildings below. Louder it grew. Stronger, dense and rhythmic. Until resonated with laughter. A taunting, Mocking and deeply unnatural.

The force enhanced ionic storm began to shift again. Lightning plaguing outward, not just in the sky but now toward the planet. Bolts of ion-charged energy slammed into the surface, some hitting city spires, some surging through power grids. Lights flickered, then died. Whole districts on the surface of Coruscant lost power in an instant. Vessels caught near the upper atmosphere buckled under the electrical chaos. Wrackling over their magnetic shielding and following starships till they overloaded. Consoles sparked, engines failed, comms went silent. Some drifted, helpless. Others exploded from within as reactors were breached.

From within the center of the storm, the clouds churned and twisted violently until a massive shape pushed forward. A face. Not just any face, but that of Darth Solipsis . Cold, smiling, cruel. His visage stretched across the upper atmosphere, impossibly massive. Taking in the death, despair and desolation. His likeness moved as the storm itself, shifting with the clouds, speaking with thunder and heralding doom. His eyes glowed with pale lightning. His mouth opened wide to reveal an abyss of wind torrents and ionic energy.

Torrents that lashed out and moved with the clouds! Threatening to consume, disable and hail dead ships back to the surface.

​

Dozens of starfighters began to appear out of the haze. Their hulls bore the markings of the Galactic Alliance and citizen militias—familiar ships flown by familiar people. But something was off. Their flight paths were erratic, unpredictable. They weaved through the chaos of the sky, firing not at the enemy, but at their own side!

Panic ensued. Screams over comms, trying to warn others, but only to sow further confusion and paranoia. Blue and red laser cannon fire lit up the atmosphere as these strange, but familiar, fighters opened fire on nearby ships. Imperial and Alliance vessels were both included. Some tried to call them off, but the phantom ships didn't answer. Their engines howled like they were alive, and as they drew closer, some began to laugh. Twisted, mocking, and full of joy at the chaos they were causing.

The faces painted across the cockpits began to distort. Grins stretched too wide. Eyes faintly glow with something deeply wrong. These weren't real ships. They were copies, illusions given substance. Force phantoms. Each one anchored to the life of someone below. Innocent citizens, loyal soldiers, even refugees sheltering from the storm. As long as they lived, the phantoms flew. And every time one was destroyed, a scream echoed through the Force. Someone somewhere had just died.

Birthing further terror, fear, anger and hatred. All with a singular motive. To establish a feedback loop of darkside energy and smother the light of the Jedi and peace of the Galactic Alliance once and for all.

​

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Objective 1A: Rescue Klar
Location: Jedi Temple hallways
Tags: Klar | Closed
Mentions: Khronas

Radiating a determination that bordered on anger, Xuko stormed through the tunnels in the direction of the hallway Remi had described. The little Togruta's description of the fight between Klar and Khronas left little doubt that the Codru-Ji was in trouble, which necessitated haste. So it was that Xuko was only slightly disappointed to not come across any others- enemies or allies- on his way to where Remi had last seen Klar.

His breath caught in his throat as he made out the shape of a familiar cylinder- one of Klar's four split sabers- lying in the hallway ahead of him. Xuko rushed over and picked it up, and images bubbled to the forefront of his mind; unbidden. Klar, bleeding, with her back against the wall, engaged with a Sinteen who had knocked this lightsaber out of her hand. She had been scrambling for survival, desperately trying to buy the younglings time to escape, and Xuko forced down a sudden lump in his throat as a sense of despair welled up from the memory. Klar's self-doubt dragged at both his hearts.

But, at least at that point, she had been alive. She'd scrambled in the direction of the hangar...

Xuko snapped back to the present, cursing himself for daydreaming when every second counted. The Zabrak held Klar's lightsaber in his free hand as he sprinted in the direction his gut told him to go- the same direction he'd envisioned Klar retreating down the hallway.

The Zabrak was rewarded with movement- an injured Sinteen who was clearly in pain, leaving the auxiliary hanger that was just ahead. This must be the "brain man" that Remi had barely been able to able to talk about out of fear. Klar's attacker. Anger kindled in Xuko's hearts as he measured the Sinteen's pace, calculating an ambush of his own. Khronas' face was badly burned, but Xuko vowed that it would be the least of the Sinteen's worries once he got his hands on him.

But the confrontation was not to be. Khronas left the hangar by a different exit, and Xuko spotted another one of Klar's lightsabers lying on the ground by the entrance to the hangar. She's close. The realization lent speed to Xuko's feet as he raced into the hanger. Call it punishment, comeuppance, or revenge- it would have to wait.

Signs of an all-out war marked the inside of the auxiliary hangar. Gashes from lightsabers, a hoversled crash, and tools used as improvised projectiles told the tale of a battle fought to the death. And if Khronas had left the hangar alive...

Sha'nor Nor'ven. Klar Zor'rek'tah... Sha'nor Nor'ven! Xuko's anguished cry echoed throughout the hangar as he spotted Klar's final two lightsabers. There was no body, but wasn't it the way of Jedi like Klar to become one with the Force upon death?

Xuko had shared with Klar the Iridonian concept of Vorr'kath'Zhen- strength through pain- but losing Klar was not a pain that he was prepared to handle. He sank to his knees, giving voice to the pain that tore both hearts asunder.

"KLAR!"

 

[Ko Vuto]

Location: NJO Temple Archives
Equipment: Temple Guard Uniform, Double-Bladed Lightsaber Pike
Tag: Braze | Zark San Tekka | Koda Fett

Ko heard Master Tekka try to talk down Braze and prevent the young knight from doing anything too rash. But he however did not think that trying to avoid violence even at a time like this was appropriate. A Jedi should use force for ‘defense, never attack’ and they were in the middle of defending the planet and their temple.

The Kel Dor’s judgement was fogging, he knew there was more to the order than their temples, books and archives. But right now, in the heat of the moment and the negativity that permeated through the air from the conflict that raged across not only the temple but the city around it had him tapping more into his anger.

Now yet another Mandalorian was proving to be a threat to his allies, and now might even get away with their dastardly deeds with Zark’s seeming compliance. Ko wouldn’t allow this. Part of the reasons temple guards like them were anonymous was to distance themselves from the rest of the order. To foster a necessary detachment. Even for his superiors like Master Tekka.

Grabbing his double bladed lightsaber pike he ignited both ends of the weapon. Raising one of his hands up the lightsaber hilt levitated above it slightly. Using The Force the saber began to spin above him, rapidly gaining in speed and intensity before the entire weapon turned into a bright yellow blur. Like a buzzsaw made of pure energy floating above himself. Ko planned to launch his weapon at the Mandalorian using ballistikinesis. To cut through everything in front and behind the target. and likely Zark as well regrettably. But he believed that The Master would understand that this was a necessary move, that Jedi should remove evil and corruption at its roots. When pulling weeds one was bound to remove a few flowers as well…

Shifting his body and pulling his arm back, Ko seemed ready to telekinetically chuck his spinning weapon like a speed ball.​

​

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Robes
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings, Seer Stone, Wayfinder's Flare, Engagement Ring
Tag: Rann Thress Rikuan // Tigris Aphra Valery Noble Corazona von Ascania Alexandra Feanor Connel Vanagor

Blasterfire crackled off stone and shattered glass. The air reeked of scorched metal and ozone. Somewhere behind her, a droid screamed in binary as it was torn apart.

Eve pivoted from the acolyte's body, breath tight in her lungs. Her white blade dipped low as she turned to the others, her eye landing on them one at a time.

"Are you both alright?"

There was no softness in the voice, just the clarity of adrenaline, of a moment not yet done. Her eye was sharp, sweeping quickly over their forms for blood, for falter, for anything. But they stood. Her lips pressed into a firm line, and she nodded once, grateful, proud.

The vines coiling through the Temple walls pulsed again, alive and awake. She reached for them. Through her fingertips, through the soles of her feet, through the ache in her bones, from the depths of her heart she called. The Force answered her. Green tendrils pushed deeper through broken stone and crumpled durasteel, weaving into barriers and cradling fallen allies. The Light surged between them as breath, slow and strong.

She closed her eye.

And she felt them.

All of them.

Jedi she had never met, scattered across the planet like stars in the dark. Their presence threaded together through the nexus, through the vines, through the will to remain. She didn’t know all their names, but she knew their intent. She belonged to it.

Valery. A steady, luminous weight, unmoving even amid chaos. An anchor for them all that she would help in return.

Tigris. A presence like wildfire and stone. Eve reached for it with quiet urgency, leaning into their bond with the calm offering for support and strength. She hoped she was okay.

Cora. Her grace and strength tapped into the network of Light by way of the nexus and the plant life. She would feel Eve in turn add to it.

Connel, Master Vanagor's son, offering sturdy power and ferocity, his sheer presence a motivation for all around him.

Dozens and dozens of other Jedi all about the temple and planet, she was there for. They would feel the voice add to the chorus. Her voice carried in the Force, not loud, not grand, but woven into the tide of Light around them all, contributing to the mass of power and love that resonated from all of them.

~You’re not alone. Stay with the calm. Hold to love. We will prevail.~​

She opened her eye. Another wave crested over the far rubble, Imperials surging forward, black-armoured and relentless. Droids stomped in behind them, hydraulic limbs humming.

Her blade snapped up again.

"Here they come."

She didn’t wait.
She stepped forward.
The Light moved with her.

 

[Ren]

SENATE BUILDING
SENATE INTERIOR CHAMBER
​

Engaging: Darth Solipsis | Shannic Wulf | Sahar
Mind Meld: Ran Serys | Caelan Valoren

Solipsis's hand snapped downward, a shockwave of telekinetic backlash jolting upward from the dais itself, aiming to try and knock Ren off his footing.

Once more, unseen force struck Ren and knocked him off-balance. Drawing on years of temple training in Ataru, he drew on his momentum, turning the blast that would have sent him flying into a somersault backward. He landed lightly, sprung backward again, then launched himself forward in another assault, accelerating to speeds that surpassed those who did not draw up on the Force.. A sudden sense of danger flitted through his mind as he felt rather than saw an impending attack in the Force.

Mid-air, he might have been helpless, but at the last moment he shoved his off-hand forward with his own blast of telekinesis.

His left hand jolted forward, unleashing a spike of crimson lightning that lanced outward into one of the remaining cameras' core. It detonated midair, showering the podium in sparks, but it's immediate shockwave was meant for one Jedi.

The rippling blastwave of overpressure met a mirror-image of telekinetic brawn and each reverberated off the other, sending the shockwaves blasting back toward their respective sources, invisible ripples in the air of sheer power. Ren felt the shockwave hit him - yet again - launching him even higher into the air and the breath left his lungs.

Gravity tugged at him with its inevitable pull and he plummeted downward, gasping for air. Panic welled up in him, until he felt the reassuring presences of the others through the Force.

He was not alone.

He was never alone.

Panic - the fear of being unable to breathe, of fighting one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy, of losing... these were just emotions. There was no emotion. There was only peace.

Ren centered himself, let go of everything to the Will of the Force, and landed on his two feet before this so-called Dark Lord. He sucked in a lungful of air as the Sith railed against them.

"This is not an invasion, it is an exorcism and the Jedi are the rot that need burned away. Vizier, resume."

"An exorcism? Ironic, Darth" panted Ren.

The diminutive Amaran stood before the Sith, struggling to heave in sweet air as he spoke. This Sith's words were the words of a ghost, a shade, a specter who refused to accept his death - to accept that he had been laid to ruin and slain by the sacrifice of noble heroes. Such shadows always lingered, but fled before the light.

"I was about to say the same," he smiled fiercely through pointed teeth, ears flattening low to his skull.

Ren raised his off-hand, pain washing through him from his injured shoulder at the motion, and a flash of illumination burst forth from his palm, its brightness so sudden as to sear retinas and cause temporary blindness. All he needed was a moment of a gap in the Sith's defenses, a heartbeat of an opening, and he would seize it. As the light streamed forth from his palm, his other paw thrust forward, lightshoto becoming a green blur as he sought to drive it into the Darth's lower leg - if he wore armored boots he would strike at a gap in the armor at the ankle or knee, if not then he would drive his saber straight through the foot and into the floor beneath.

The brave die only once. But cowards? Cowards die a thousand times.

 

[Klar]

​

Xuko Pagoi |

Klar wasn't sure how long she'd hung on to the antenna she'd been clinging to. It could have been minutes, it could have been months. She kept swimming in and out of focus, watching as streaks of turbolaser fire glittered across Coruscant's burning sky. She'd never seen the city go dark before - even in the dead of night, the city pulsed with life. The arterial passage of speeders conveying billions about the surface of a world made of lights and steel and glass, a heart that never stopped beating.

Damage to infrastructure. Sectors gone dark to avoid pulling attention from invading forces. Worse, places gone dark because they'd been emptied out and there was simply not enough souls to turn the switches to greet nightfall with fluorescence. Coruscant was going dark the same way she was. Slowly, intermittently, maybe forever.

At any moment, she knew she could let go of the antenna and check out. But for the planet she loved so dearly? It felt like sitting vigil beside a beloved relative in their last moments. Or at least what Klar imagined such a thing would feel like. A quiet moment of peace to linger as long as possible, because once the moment ended it would be so for good.

Was her father out there, somewhere? With his new family? Had they weathered the storm? She hoped so.

Despite the howling wind, it was really rather warm. Her broken arm barely hurt anymore, and the cuts on her thigh and her hip were almost nothing.

"KLAR!"

Jolted awake by the distant sound of a voice. Klar's head jerked upright, eyes fluttering open. Dimly, distantly, a thought arrived like the kiss of a butterfly landing on her nose - she was going into shock. The wind was wicking the heat away from her body. Her bloodstained clothing wasn't helping that, either.

I saw some of you second-guess yourselves out there. His voice was quiet now. Not booming, but personal. You want to know how you're doing? You're doing fine.

But one day… it might save your life. He gestured toward his hand—the burn scar now partially wrapped again. Or the life of someone you care about.

He stepped toward the Zabrak again, voice softer now. And it won't be because you crushed an opponent. It will be because you held fast. Because you stood firm when everything around you told you to fall.

Klar pulled her focus in, willing the warmth to her limbs. Forcing herself to hold fast to the antenna, chasing the cold away as she clung to the side of the temple and impelled her weak limbs to climb. Let her back break and her shoulders fall from her spine if they must - tomorrow. Today, she would justify their existence.

Xuko would. And he would expect no less of her than her best. She'd made her peace with dying, perhaps, but not where he could see her give up.

Her hand found the lip of the hanger. She forced herself to cry out for aid.

 

[Braze]

TAGS:
Koda Fett Ko Vuto Zark San Tekka
Open to being targeted by GE & GA

​

​

Protocol Obedience:
"Loyalty buried in ash."
Forged / Stolen Credentials: Jasper Kai'el | Nos Voros | Bernard
Objective/s: Execute hidden directive [Betrayal] | Stop Ko Vuto
Location: Jedi Archives, Jedi Temple, Coruscant (#1 King of the Hill)

​

"Stand down Knight Braze! Violence is a Jedi's last resort."

Braze froze mid-step, muscles taut like a drawn bowstring. His hand hovered near his weapons, every instinct screaming to act, to strike out and attack, to end this madness.... But he obeyed.

His jaw clenched as he watched the legendary bounty hunter make his calculated move... It was a wise choice. Braze frowned beneath his mask watching as Koda pressed the gun tighter to Zark. The old man didn't flinch even as death looked him square in the eye. Of course he didn't.... Zark was level headed and far wiser than Braze could hope to be. The weight of restraint gnawed at him like fire beneath his skin despite the initial obeisance.

He drew in a slow, steady breath, finding his center amidst the chaos and tension of the standoff. For a fleeting heartbeat, the chaotic sounds of war dulled. The noise fell away, muffling the world around him as stillness took hold.

Then out of the corner of his eye he caught the motion of Ko's saber. A golden whir carved through the air as Ko's blade rose up and ignited into a blur of radiance, arcing upward like a solar flare. It burned with intent to kill. Not just the bounty hunter but Zark as well.

Braze's somber jade green eyes went wide beneath his mask, as his breath caught sharp in his throat.
He saw it; Ko's judgment had been made and he was committed to the decision and the irreversible path it would carve.

"No—!"

His saber hand moved before thought could catch up, drawing the Mysterious Lightsaber in a flash of motion, too fast to track with the naked eye. The black voidlike blade with colorful sparks sang out and found its mark with surgical finality.

Ssshhh-krrkk!
The humming stopped.​

Ko Vuto 's arm dropped to the floor with a lifeless clatter, severed cleanly at the bicep, trimmed away like a wild branch cut from an overreaching bonsai. Braze held his stance, blade still alight, chest heaving as he realized what he'd done.. a wave of insurmountable sorrow, and abject grief flooded him burning through the very tip of his nose, as hot tears stung his eyes spilling forth in crystal droplets.

Silence bloomed in the aftermath for but a few moments. He hadn't just stopped an attack.... Braze had drawn a line, and had crossed another... an action that changed everything.

"I'm...so...sorry." Was all he could utter barely above a whisper before suddenly Braze unleashed a wave of Force power, a violent torrent that crashed into Ko and hurled him backward. Shelves shattered in his path as he was sent careening through several of the archive's aisles, finally slamming into the far wall with bone-jarring force.

He then fled the Archives...

◆ Equipment Loadout

◆ Head & Neck
• Lightveil Circlet
• Iroai Amulate

◆ Outerwear
• Phantom Mist Projector

◆ Arm Equipment
• Right Arm: Saber-Claws Gauntlet
• Left Arm: Saberbreaker Gauntlet

◆ Armor (Integrated)
• Light Armor
• Boots
• Gauntlets
• Mask/Helm Mask/Helm

◆ Belt
• FFS Utility Belt

◆ Weapons
• Mysterious Lightsaber
• G.O.O. Gun
• Training Lightsaber
• Utility Knife
• E.G.G.S. x10
• Thermal Detonator (Class-A) x5

◆ Left Hand Accessories
• Compass Ring
• BCA - Solid State Hologram Tool Band

◆ Medical & Consumables
• FSP - Besh (Force Suppression Drug)
• Trauma Spray
• Aspha Serum
• Reanimation Serum Aurek
• Bota M9-A2 (Berries)
• 5 lbs Bag of Thermite
• Vixen's Vault

◆ Companion
• Gidgit

◆ Starships
• Ashwing - Starfighter
• Phantomray Stealth Assault Interceptor
  ↳ Fitted with: Werlaara Stealth Suite

 

[Caelan Valoren]

Yes, together, he agreed through the Force.

Caelan was not one to dwell on a sense of ego and pride. Working with another to take down a foe did not bother him. If anything, he welcomed the chance to work with another Jedi, especially one he didn't know. The enemy had come to a place they should not have, and they had put his young family in danger, which was unacceptable to him. He would not allow them to come to harm, and so he would fight these lunatics, these maniacal egomaniacs, in battle even if it meant the death of him. The line of succession was assured. He need not be stingy with his own life.

But even as he approached, he could feel that something was coming for him. From the corner of his eye he saw the senate pod flying towards him, tugged by the dark one in front of him. He could have jumped out of the way, but he knew that would leave him in a vulnerable position. He could have stopped and cut it in two, but that would leave Ren to fend for himself, and he couldn't allow that as he has promised that he would assist him.

So instead, he applied the Force to merely nudge it out of the way trajectory that the Sith wanted it to go in, so it hit just behind him, and did nothing to interfere with his forward momentum.

"A gnat, am I? Then I must be the only one in the galaxy to make an Emperor swat at air."

He didn't lead with his lightsaber as he drew upon the man. Instead, noting what Ren was doing, he created two barriers of white-hot Lightside energy and placed them directly behind the Sith, intending to pin him in for Ren's attack. In the meantime, he came up to the man, just outside of lightsaber reach and lifted his blade with his right hand, while the left maintained the barriers and he focused on the Sith before him.

"You sith are not but vermin, scurrying about in the darkness and then showing up as if birthed by a thousand mothers, only to be stamped down time and again by people who will not submit to your plague of depravity. This time will be no different."

Meanwhile, Fate scurried through the ventilation systems of the Senate building, bypassing security measures where he needed to and making his way towards the central IDF. He didn't know what Caelan was up to, but he knew that he had a job that he was tasked with, and that job was top priority. Any orders issued by Caelan had to be followed to the letter. In this case, he had to do everything he could to shut down any and all transmissions emanating from the senate building.

Reaching the IDF, he kicked open the diffuser and jumped down into the room. It was full of all kinds of fancy systems, the likes of which he'd never seen as he'd spent most of his days in the outer rim, and he gawked at it for a moment. Then he snapped out of his reverie and plugged himself into the socket nearby, beginning to cycle his way through all of the complex systems. Given his location, there was a tight net of security, but that was designed to keep people from entering the room. Once he was plugged in, there was just a simple password to crack.

Once he'd done that, he started shutting down all of the local networks. Not hard to do since there were safety protocols he could trigger to protect the data on the servers in the room he was in. It wouldn't take him long to shut those down, then he could look into whether there were jammers he could trigger. At the very least, they wouldn't be able to utilize the native broadcast systems any further.

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace), Prosthetic Left Arm

TAGS: Darth Solipsis | Ran Serys | Ren | Shannic Wulf | Sahar ​

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Objective 1A: Rescue Klar
Location: Jedi Temple Auxiliary Hangar
Tags: Klar | Closed


Movement. Out of his peripheral vision, blurred with tears, Xuko spotted a hand as it grasped the side of the hangar; heard a voice as it called for help.

He knew that hand. It had played with his hair and bapped his shoulder and fit perfectly inside his.

He knew the voice, too. It belonged to one of the Jedi Order's greatest yappers and somehow made his name sound better when she said it.

Xuko closed the distance faster than he thought possible. Strong arms heaved Klar up and away from the ledge, and practically crushed her in an embrace while the two of them were still horizontal on the ground- by some minor miracle not including her broken arm in the process. How she had found the strength to make the climb he did not know.

"Klar!" All that Xuko wanted to say, all that he tried to put to words and failed to, was summed up in a name. They were both wounded- Klar especially so- but for one precious moment amidst the chaos and destruction of the Battle for Coruscant, all that mattered was that she was alive.

"You are safe" he said, looking into her exhausted blue eyes.

"You are safe."

 

[Klar]

​

Xuko Pagoi

Klar couldn't help but wonder how Xuko had gotten to this point. He smelled like blood, he looked as frantic as she'd ever seen him - the bottom of a cave, discovering a fear of being buried alive. How had he found her?

Ah, the kids. That's probably what happened. Either that or the Force, or both.

In spite of everything else, she smiled with relief as he crushed her against his body. She even had an arm to return the hug. "Hey, look at that." The Codru-Ji greeted with a weak smile. "Buddy system wins again."

Cradling her broken arm, Klar let herself limp against Xuko for a moment, just like they'd been on the beach. His hearts had sounded less staccato then, but no less strong.

Klar inhaled sharply, fighting to stay conscious. "Not doin' great, Xuko." She confessed, voice cracking a little. "The kids find you? All six?" The Codru-Ji struggled to get her legs underneath herself as she asked. While it didn't work too well, she remained holding onto his collar as though letting go might mean falling back over the edge and into the abyss. "Don't.... don't dare lie to me. If you love me at all - I have to know, Xuko." Klar begged.

 

[Darth Bellum]

BELLUM CONTRA OMNES

​

| Location | Force Nexus, Coruscant​

| Purpose | Bring Ruination and War​

​

The advancing legionnaires remained unfazed as they fanned out to engage the incoming Jedi, the shots deflected back at them by Vulpesen striking and dissipating against their personal energy shields. They moved without hesitation or fear, emboldened by their lord's presence. These were no mere grunts, but seasoned shocktroopers that had endured countless campaigns and untold numbers of enemies; they were trained to handle both Sith and Jedi alike during their peak. There was nothing they feared in the Galaxy, not even death - only the wrath of their master should they fail to achieve his desires. ​

​

As his troops advanced, Bellum would remain still, the glow of his violet saber flickering against his dark visage. A simple gesture with his free hand, the slightest twitch of his fingers and another shadowy maw appeared at the flank of his opposition, more legionnaires stepping out and breaking free of the chains that tethered them to the other side to serve their lord. The rabble would be handled and dealt with, the Jedi were his.​

​

The Lord of War's gaze fell upon Alexandra Feanor as they took on a meditative stance, hollow eyes focused on them as if peering into their essence. Such wretched emotions. He stepped forward, the maelstrom of anguish and despair that surrounded him flaring up for the briefest of moments, a small glimpse of the abyss he was within the Force, a wound that he perpetuated and festered simply by existing. ​

​

His death all those years on Bastion at the hands of Irveric Tavlar had temporarily removed him from the Galaxy, but he existed as wound upon the Force. He only returned a stronger, more powerful blight upon the Galaxy with his resurrection. A torrential tide of anger, hatred, sorrow, surged forth, a wave of negative energy so palpable within the Force that it cried out. Visions of destruction, death, and war, not just of that of the past but the future that would come to pass. ​

​

The Dark Side of the Force manifested around him, hundreds of years of anguish and hatred, with an appetite for destruction amplified by the overlapping effects and efforts of the Sith'ari and the Dark Side Elite. It wreathed him in the energies that fueled those who tapped into it for power. To Alexandra, Bellum would appear as a massive, writhing mass of shadows, appendages reaching out as if seeking salvation where there was none. Overlapping voices of men, women, children all cried out, screaming, but nothing louder than a hushed whisper spoke, directly into the Jedi's mind, a simple but honest remark,​

​

" You will fail. "
​

He seemed to already anticipate the Jedi's attempt to harm him, and he welcomed it, goading the Jedi to try their hardest, if only to witness the futlity of their actions. With the balance of the hearts and minds of Coruscant in such disarray, the chaos and destruction only further empowered him while weakening the Jedi's ability to draw upon the light to its full effectiveness. His wretched voice spoke once more, a wave of pain and suffering radiating from him like a solar flare as it touched the minds of all those within the Temple.​

​

" Pray to the Light for guidance and strength... I will return you to the everlasting peace you crave shortly. Your voices shall join in my chorus when that hope is sundered from your soul... Sing my song... Call my name... For I ... am..."
​

He made no attempt to advance further, letting the background of the firefight become muted as he stood, unfazed and unamused. Paltry lessons and the will of a few insignificant insects weighed against him. Since time immemorial, war had existed in the Galaxy, and for a hundred lifetimes, Bellum had perpetuated its cycle, learning its secrets, drawing upon its untapped power, and nourishing himself in a sea of limitless ether. It mattered not to the Sith whether the Empire was successful in its attempt to take the Core. All that mattered was the tithes they paid. The Jedi would find that they were a mere candle's flame in the shadows cast by - ​

​

" WAR "​

​

​

Voldran Molf | Khronas | Talon Draven | Kaleb Sunwalker | @Anyone else in proximity of Objective 1

 

[Kelig Ward]

Neighboring Skyscraper - Coruscant
Direct Tags: Da'Razel Kain Aldore Dean Walker
Indirect Tags: Darth Solipsis | Shannic Wulf | Sahar | Ren | Ran Serys | Caelan Valoren ​

Taxing.

The entire operation was a true test of the man's patience. The opening phase of the conflict had been consumed by preparations—weeks in the making. He was still limited by the circumstances of his earlier engagements on the planet, long before the invasion had even begun. Light on supplies, he carried only his sidearm and rifle, and a harness draped over his padded jacket.

Over time, he'd secured a prime vantage point atop one of Coruscant’s many intricate prisms. This one, however, was special—it neighbored the Galactic Senate Building, offering a clear view of the very section where his mark was expected to move. The greatest reward, however, was getting there without incident. That stealth had come at a cost: time.

Still, he was fortunate. He hadn’t been called on yet, but he was ready.

Ward lay prone atop a cleared desk in an empty office, the highest floor available with such a line of sight. The window had been cut with a precise hole, just enough for the barrel of his rifle to poke through, two inches of metal glinting in the light. The building was deserted, thanks to preemptive evacuation efforts. Civilian-grade sensors monitored the floor’s access routes, nothing sophisticated, but enough to serve as a means.

His scope was zeroed, magnified to capture a wide swath of the Senate Building's facade—a canvas of windows, most dark, some lit with the telltale chaos of battle. Blaster bolts danced. A lightsaber flickered in and out of sight. Then, some windows erupted in a burst of flame, pressure shattering the glass into sparkling debris.

Maybe this was it. Maybe that was where the mark would show. Ward shifted just a nudge to the left, readjusting for the new angle.

Time rewarded him with clarity: the mark revealed himself. Clad in scorched gold, carbon-dusted but unmistakable. And beside him, a boy, striding through fire, several paces away from the brute he'd just cast down.

"Do it"

The signal came. Ward locked onto his target.

But the shot was never taken.

The boy moved with unnatural speed, slipping the line of fire before the trigger could break. A beat later, Kain entered Ward’s scope, just as the boy reached out with the Force. The platforms groaned and tore themselves apart under his will.

Still, the sniper didn’t flinch. The moment the boy’s silhouette cleared, he fired.

A crimson bolt screamed across the chasm between buildings, streaking toward the open where glass had once been, aimed for the boy who dared to challenge Da’Razel.

 

[Koda Fett]

​

BOUNTY HUNTER - JEDI ARCHIVES​

Zark San Tekka - Braze - Ko Vuto​

---

​

His reply to the Jedi Master was a low, amused huff trickling from beneath the lip of his helmet.​

​

Everyone had a code of their own. Even those that swear to something, someone else; there's a point in which even they will be pressed too far and need to decide, then and there, the limits of what their code allows. For Fett, maybe it was about not wanting an even bigger price on his head, or maybe cold-blooded and non-contractual additional murder just wasn't in the cards right now.​

​

He watched the Kel Dor spin his lightsaber, turning it into a buzzsaw. Beskar or not, spinning that fast might spell doom for them both. He wasn't interested in finding out, thinking on how to evade that if it was ever loosed, which it looked like it would be. Until the other Jedi decided to not continue on with the violence, at the pleas of his master, and severed his partner's arm. Seeing him flee immediately after.​

​

"Not the outcome I expected," he said dryly, whether for himself or Zark. Fett dragged the Jedi with him towards that shielded side room, drawing his blaster pistol in order to disable it. A veritable treasure trove lay within, between artefacts and the like. The terminal was his focus, however. Placing, rather dropping Zark in the room as he placed a device into the terminal. A back up, should that slicer have failed - might not be as thorough, but it would do. He scrounged up an item from a shielded container, courtesy of that same blaster pistol's shield breaking capacity and pilfered an artefact. Taking the device with the data, the artefact and then Zark, the Mandalorian began on his way towards the High Council chamber.​

​

There were still those chairs to get, after all. A three-piece, maybe even a fourth would not be so bad.​

​

 

[Magdalena Bloodscrawl]

Magdalena focused her will in the ancient chamber, flesh rippling and shuddering disgustingly all over her body as green lightning arced off it and all the light side infused blood runes in the chamber.

A Sith came in to the room thinking her easy prey. He raised his saber to strike, and Magdalena's head twisted around unnaturally at 180 degrees, mouth stretching horrifically and the Sith was turned to ash from the intense exposure before resuming her ritual. She focused the ancient light within herself towards resisting and striking at the Force Scream let out by Prowler II , her presence in the Force akin to a massive whirlpool of light spewing out solar flares as she struck back, resisted the scream to help protect everyone linked by the battle meditation of Valery Noble .

You call on the aid of a doomed old fool who has already failed to destroy this government once before. Who has died to one of the members of it's Jedi. And now you seek to help that failure take ONE planet. While he will still be surrounded. By the rest of the Alliance. He was ripped away from the core before and he will be again Magdalena hissed to Prowler telepathically, her tendrils of light bashing through the scream to attack his mind directly.

You are nothing. A fossil helping a deluded ghost fight the wars of yesterday. she taunted, more of her tendrils attacking his mind.

His magic will not save you. I will hammer and hammer and hammer away until you break. Whisper your Sith words, pathetically claw at his spirit for your aid as the poison your soul drinks drags you ever deeper.

Magdalena hissed her own ancient words that sent a storm of light into the connections, dissolving the dark tendrils formed over the innocent as rapidly as could be managed without killing them, peacefully dissolving multiple Force Phantoms without killing the hosta they were connected to. Everything Prowler tried to undermine with his hate, Magdalena defended just as vigorously with her ancient knowledge

It invigorated the defenders of the Alliance, undaunted by the terror in the skies, the sight of the visage of forming in Coruscant's skies and they surged forward in hope, violently resisting to their last breath the Sith military. Even as they were outgunned by the forces of Domaric Mordane , they fought on, refusing to retreat,no matter what cruelties and horrors were inflicted by him in response. The Model 0 units fighting with discipline and a focused will, covering the escape of innocent civilians, viciously gunning down Imperials and Dark Troopers who threatened them, shredding Sith military with grenade rounds. They were determined to make this arrogant empire pay in the blood of dozens, hundreds of their own for every quarter inch taken.

Win or lose, this is not the end of the Jedi or the light. It is merely the prelude to yet another humiliation of the Sith. To spend so much on blood to destroy a symbol. How weak you all must truly be, to devote so much to destroying one building, thinking that will crush our spirit. As if one building, one Nexus, one world will change the inevitability of your eventual crushing defeat.

Her metaphysical tendrils sent severe pulses of the light side of the Force into Prowler's mind. It said much of the terrifying strength Magdalena commanded that she could fight his Force Phantom formation elsewhere while having more than enough energy to focus on fighting him psychically, and by him, also indirectly combatting those like Ashin Cardé Varanin .

Meanwhile...


Syd Celsius finally decided to make herself useful. She had been gathering strength for the mass ritual she was to perform. Whereas Magdalena excelled at the metaphysical, Syd excelled at the purely destructive applications of the Force.

While the Clone Siege Troopers ripped into Imperial Forces in the Senate Rotunda, their troops outside artillery shelling Sith Forces outside, Syd flew out of the building with the Force.

She hissed the ancient flame spells and rituals one of her previous incarnations had stolen so long ago from Maranon , Keeper of The Six Blasphemies.

The skies twisted in her immediate area, whirlpools of flames forming twisters of fire from above that surrounded the Jedi Temple and the Rotunda.

They would start to vacuum up and burn alive any Imperial in an immediate four meter radius of where they were while ignoring non imperial forces. Shocked Civilians about to get gunned down watched in a mixture of fascination, relief, and unbridled horror as the mini flame twisters swept rapidly through the inner and outer plaza districts, screaming imperials and troopers who couldn't get away in time sucked up and roasted. As bad as everything was right now, this was likely one of the most fethed up things they had witnessed thus far. For the imperials it was a level of bullchit that made a bad day worse.

Syd directed the twisters, rapidly killing many, strategically forcing Imperial lines open so civilians could flee the madness and death, Model 0 and Alliance Forces escorting them to safety depending on who encountered them first.

Naturally, the Model 0's freakish skeletal appearance and cowboy-esque mannerisms led to civilians being a bit...hesitant to accept their help. But many would eventually decide they had nothing to lose. It was one of the things Nathan's secret army depended on...chaos. Desperation. A distracted Alliance too busy fighting their own battles to worry about trying to fight them as well...

Connel Vanagor

Ko Vuto

Zark San Tekka

Corazona von Ascania

Katherine Holt

Vera Noble

Ran Serys

Ren

Kain Aldore

Da'Razel

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Objective 1A: Rescue Klar
Location: Jedi Temple Auxiliary Hangar
Tags: Klar | Closed
Gear: Lightsaber, standard commlink, Jedi robes


Klar's voice was weak, and Xuko inhaled sharply as he realized just how much blood stained her robes. He felt her trying to stand and had none of that, sweeping Klar up and off of her feet and carrying her. He needed to bandage Klar's wounds, but he could already tell that the injuries she'd sustained were beyond the basic first aid supplies he carried.

Concern flooded through Xuko as Klar took a raggedy breath. She was lucky to be alive, and barely clinging to consciousness, and still her thoughts dwelled on the younglings she had defended. "Yes, they are safe" Xuko said, omitting the fact that he'd left them in Aris' care. "All six of them, thanks to you." He did not have the right words to tell her that he did love her, and so instead focused on showing her.

Short of finding a healer- which seemed increasingly unlikely given the emptiness of this part of the temple- Xuko carried Klar over towards a nearby ship which had its ramp down. Upon entering the Zabrak spotted an astromech droid aboard the shuttle, which beeped a question. Xuko didn't understand binary, but he knew that droids could comprehend Basic. It must be asking how it could assist. "Safety..." he frowned, not remembering what the rest of the phrase was. Kit! The term came to mind as Xuko spotted the distinctive red cross on the wall, next to a bed. The astromech trundled off, and a few seconds later Xuko heard the ramp close. The little droid took initiative, it seemed; the two Padawans were now safe from discovery by any sweeping Sith patrols.

Xuko carefully laid Klar down on the bed and began bandaging her wounds, carefully tearing away bloodstained robes and doing his best to clean and bandage her numerous injuries. "You will not die today, Klar" he said, hoping that words of encouragement might bolster her spirit. This next half hour was critical.

Busy as he was tending to Klar's injuries, Xuko barely noticed the soft bump as the survey ship lifted off- the astromech interpreting Xuko's request in the most extreme way as it began piloting the Pathfinder to what it understood to be a safer location.

 

[Talon Draven]

Objective: Corrupt the Nexus
Location: Jedi temple, Coruscant
Tags: Voldran Molf | Kaleb Sunwalker | Orran | Khronas | Darth Bellum | Darth Solipsis | The Dark Side Elite | Those Coming to Help the Nexus

They tried to use the Nexus for their own personal gain. His brows furrowed.

'Poor thing. Used instead of helped. Still, they fight only for your power,' he thought softly towards the Nexus. The way it kept the Jedi safe but could not be saved itself by them. Only did they use it to bolster themselves. The way the Force ebbed and flowed at him, it was if he was standing before it now in nothing but silence watching it move and stutter from being pulled to do their bidding. Power to help their shields, to blow through the durasteel with vines and leaves, but still they did not help it.

As he knelt before it, chanting with his brothers in arms he could feel the darkness surround them with a welcoming comfort. That vision of him standing before it was clearer than before as it shook and trembled in pain.

Slowly he put his hands to his face and took his mask off, allowing the Nexus to see him as it saw the Jedi. A friend. His black hair spilled out from his mask and framed his face as he bent down and set his mask upon the ground. He wanted it to see him. He could see the darkness bubbling below it, small at first before it came to a rolling boil. The glyphs even made their presence here. He stepped forward, his presence calm, but even he felt the excitement rise in him from the ritual they were performing. His gaze shifted back to the ebb and flow of the Force and the white pyramid before him spazzing.

"Fight it no longer. We are not here to use you. We are here to let you rest, to finally set you free," he said with a confident tone.

Out there, his mouth kept moving, his will pouring hatred and pain into the Nexus, allowing his fellow Dark Side members to meld with him, to help him. It was as if they were one, bringing this being to their submission. They would take this battle, these lives lost from selfishness of the Jedi feed into their Wills. Talon would not hold back either, he was using all he had in him, even with the battle meditation from both Ibaris Varanin and Prowler II .

Back within that vision, he looked behind him, feeling the presence of their enemies come closer but halted by a presence he knew all too well. Darth Bellum 's presence was all too welcomed. He would keep them busy while they stayed with the Nexus. He turned back to it and took a deep breath. "They're here to try to take you back, to force you to appease them. They have not poured their own wills to your own but have taken from you. Let us help." The black pool was growing ever more and seeping into Talon's boots and surged in massive waves. They were so close. He could hear the screams, faint at first around him. This once pristine whiteness surrounding them was closing in from darkness encroaching from the dark side. They were almost there. The screams were getting louder and the Nexus spazzed even more than before, almost like it was seizing.

Their words filled that chamber as one. Darth Bellum was holding them off well and as Talon was ready for another push against the Force, he could feel it. His Master's power flowing through him and Prowler II 's powers pushing against him. His body erupted in goosebumps as the Dark Side of the Force surged through his being. His veins pulsed harder than before, his energy expanded, his security and confidence were bolstered more than ever.

The once bubbling black water that was surging like a broken pipe finally broke. Waves upon waves of black water roared forth like a dam broken. The darkness enveloped them like a blanket and the only source of light came from the Nexus itself. Illuminating the man before it, his eyes reflected that light like a predator in the wilds. He smiled.

"Let us help you." An afterimage of three hands pressed forth through the darkness for he was not alone here. It was as if he was one with the surrounding darkness and bleeding from it. All it took was a single finger touching it.

 

[St. Thomas Barran]

TAGS
Friend: Ibaris Varanin Darth Solipsis
Foe: Nathan Bloodscrawl Caltin Vanagor

HOW LIBERTY DIES - PART SEVEN

​

ABOARD THE IV: SEPULCHRE,
CORUSCANT, GALACTIC DEEP CORE (902 ABY)

'Ohohohoho! Yer uppin' the stakes noo, GOOD!!!!'
​

Barran had sensed he needed more battle-experience on the back foot, and in feeling the excitement of changing intensity of the bout, found himself feeling more than appreciative; and uncannily so, firstly, for the fact the Khan was quickly growing to like the way his opponent carried himself, and secondly, for the fact he could feel history resonating within the heart of the knight. Mostly ringing true for the latter, however, as there was always an unspoken aura found emanating around those who knew the Galaxy's history, retaining knowledge enough to carry legacies, techniques and Inherited Will in their souls through each and any given fight.

'But I need MORE, damn you! REACH IN AND SHOW ME YOUR TRUE POWER!!!!'

​

Parrying with feet dancing frenetically beneath him, working to keep up with the growing momentum, this technical masterclass would make for prime viewing-material, and for any who would benefit from learning the nuances of power on every perceivable level. Both opponents would have enjoyed this fight a whole lot more under the circumstances, but precedence was bidding obedience upon them, urging both warriors to test and record the capabilities of their counterparts. Clashing autumn with a deep blue sea in the dark, and for all that the Jedi knight was endeavouring to end the fight, the Bloodhound was having too much fun to let it end so quickly, the first effort to err somewhere beyond the cold, clinical confines of the Makashi form.

It was then that the Khan's free hand, the idled-left he reserved for added power in his strikes and parries, the hand he reserved for punching - began to twist inward.

However, the Jedi would take sudden note, breaking out from his own attack-pattern as the Khan's thumb and index-finger approached their meeting point, averting a clear and present Click-Wave attempt as he made the latest of his lateral leaps into shadow; this briefly disappointed the Khan, wishing for a chance to test the Jedi's Force Deflection abilities in close-proximity, but the brief, pausing tilt of the knight's head made quick work of that disappointment. It was not fear, it was not love, nor was it anything else for that matter, and when Barran finally queried,'Recognition, hm? Wise, but-', wheels of his own were beginning to turn within the mind.

'-Quite revealing.... Who are you?!'

AUXILIA
IV

​

ABOARD THE MV: HEART OF MAR'ZAMBUL,
CORUSCANT, GALACTIC DEEP CORE (902 ABY)

<"Glare to Fetters! Coruscant will die on their feet, so it would seem.">
<"For long enough, you held a hope that they wouldn't. Do not forget that, as those around you never will.">
​

Eye-rolling, and with a sneering disapproval beneath the helmet of his jump-gear, Farnum was struggling to understand Capaq's treatment of the latest Keshig-Leader prospect, seeing the renegade Chiss as a kindred mercenary to the Zabrak coordinating the bridge at the time. Even showing disapproval on the grounds of the Scav Kings' eventual forgiveness, sensing the shift in ideals for themselves when they finally got their chance to see the mercenary with their own eyes, Farnum had seen all this transpire for himself, recalling the moment back to the time their Khan was still imprisoned on Kolene.

'Bit much, was it not?'
'Shut up, Farnum! And besides - how else do the Core-Worlders learn?'
'Core-Worlders.... Of course.'

<"Glare to Dustborn! We're passing the Sepulchre - opening bay-doors now.">
<"Good timing, Glare.... Move to the Sepulchre's left. Wide-coverage wins the salvo.">
<"Copy that, Ulusar! Glare - out!">
​

It was in moments like these when Farnum wished most to break Capaq's face, to cave in the malcontent's skull so his snarkiness could subside for once, but for all that the former-PMC said and lived to aggravate the former Captain of the Cirihut Guard, the Tribal devotee could not help but appreciate the Chiss whenever blaster-trails dared to veer in their direction. Perhaps with newfound responsibility, Kallson's contemporary could learn the intricacies of Khanate life, but for the short-term, Capaq's fighting power made him Marauder enough to work with. That alone made the irritations worth the trouble, but for all the promise in combat-fighting prowess, Farnum was unable to see a future that his contemporary survived long enough to see.

A shadow was hanging over the renegade Chiss, and fate detested it, far more than the Cirihut ever could.

'Better be ready this time, Fetters. Can't jump out to save you if you overshoot your trajectory.'
'Not my first boarding-jump, Farnu-'
'-Thats,"Dustborn", to you.... Such rights to birthname-basis are earned among Nomads.'

​

The conversation would be abandoned when the off-ramp finally completed it's opening rotation, sounding off the Keshig-Leaders' cue to jump, as the window of opportunity was (and was seen to be) extremely short this time; worryingly so, but with both Mawites leaping off their marks without delay, even Capaq could feel confident in their chances of landing within reach of the Sepulchre's bridge. Beyond their exiting leaps, Farnum's only concern would be the DSE flagship's debris from their own docking-bays, but when they began to pick up speed on approach, the Cirihut Warrior would find a greater confidence that none would get in their way.

[CLANK]
[CLANK]
[Hsssssssss]​

'Magnetize.'
'On the left side, is it not?'
'Correct.... The switch with the - uh - little latch over-thats the one.... You need the Hound gear.'

With two, concurrent metallic squelches, the safe arrival of the Keshig-Leaders was assured, and along with it, so too was the Sepulchre's airlock-procedure for the bridge's topside access chute. As soon as the ceiling-dome closed over them, the echo would die down before Farnum turned his attention to the security terminal, scanning for both presences within the airlock before bracing to fall through the ceiling, a clench of which Farnum had barely enough time to replicate before the floor vanished beneath them. Dragged down at twice the speed with magnets still engaged at the time, the clunk of their arrival would be a welcome clamour to the ringing ears of their superiors, and with it - the Trilunars could finally coordinate their chance to keep the flagship in the fight.

'Welcome to the last stand, gentlemen.'
'Not if we can help it!'