Skirmish Morganized Rescue | NJO v. Bryn'adul

[Asmundr Varobalder]

PROSPERITY'S GUARDIAN

PROSPERITY // JUST OUTSIDE BRYN’ADUL SPACE // EN ROUTE TO ATOLLON
OPEN TO THE NEW JEDI ORDER AND THE BRYN'ADUL
YOU WANT IT DARKER​

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A duo of peculiar things had happened in the past week.

One –– Asmundr’d been assaulted by a mysterious, feverish vision. A silhouette in distress. Day after day, this spectral spectacle assailed him. The familiar shape never got close enough to decipher but proved sufficiently that it persevered and fought larger configurations, but it was weakening each day. Any opacity amidst the outlines was starting to wane. As far as prophecy went, he imagined this had a direct correlation to time and how it was running out.

Two –– intense reverse engineering aboard Peace, the superstructure’s artificially intelligent gatekeeper managed to decrypt a distress signal and redistribute it to other patched in networks, including the smart communications system aboard Prosperity. Finally, Peace and Prosperity were able to interface.

The notification from Peace to Prosperity came just as Asmundr was at a breaking point of frustration. The details were too vague for him to place, though he had a strong sense of the location. He’d been navigating through the stars long enough to understand the whims of his visions, but the technical support finalized and made sense of the wight facing a plight in his dream. He’d seen Grandmaster Wyatt Morga . And he was in distress, isolated within Bryn’adul space.

While the New Jedi Order had conversations about organization, the dissemination and distribution of such information were –– for now –– his responsibility. A glorified golden operator, Asmundr was more than happy to broadcast to all the eager ears. He was less pleased about the message itself, though, given this one was rooted in distress and loss and would result in one of his least favourite things: Danger.

Thus here he was, standing and observing the more able amongst them as they rallied to rescue the former Grandmaster from the clutches of the Galaxy’s most xenophobic and atrociously malevolent species. They’d been respectfully sombre enough as he talked them through the details he’d been able to understand, but there were many unknowns.

To accompany his information, he’d replayed the recordings from DSCRD training droids and distributed notes to individual datapads on strengths and weaknesses of the Bryn’adul from firsthand accounts.

None of it made him feel less cowardice, nor any more confident in the collection of youthful warriors gathered to rescue the lonesome Jedi. They’d be facing foes that were responsible for the genocide of at least eleven species.

He shuddered at the thought and watched as the shuttles filled with brave souls descended to the remote, destitute terrain below and mouthed to himself the iconic reassurance: May The Force be with you.

 

[Primal Architect]

Atollon. Once home to the demi-god force user, the Bendu.
Now one of many worlds under our control.

​

It is by the grace of chance that the Jedi fall into our snare. For seasons on end, a small number of Warriors of the Tachael-Vemnak have watched the Jedi known as Wyatt Morga. A steady hand, a restrained approach decreed necessary by the Chieftain himself. That is, until the day the Jedi return for their kin.

That day has come.

No great force will move against this enemy, no host of ships will be present upon the borders of our domain. The fires of the fourteen systems still burn yet and with them is the Titan's gaze drawn. The Super-Construct stands silent, the only movement being the hordes of tamed Krykna and their slumbering hives beneath the planet surface.

The Bryn'adûl lay in wait, the Seers speak word of their arrival and such; the moment is prepared for.

Tags: Aovinr | Kad | Seer Kalanthir | Krarolk T'manu | Kelmor | Osam | Sethrak | Keldothera |

 

[Seer Kalanthir]

Location: Heart of the Super-Construct
Tags: Aovinr | Keldothera | Krarolk T'manu | Kelmor | Osam | Sethrak | Keldothera |
Engaging: TBD

It was by no chance nor fleeting fancy that a Seer arrived on Atollon. The weight of future and past rested on each shoulder, and wherever one Seer went the chant of many followed. In his league, were six Ashaka and an Honour Guard of Warlocks, loyal and subservient Drael who knew the importance of the steps taken.

We only get so many.

In the heart of the Super-Construct, one could find solace in the peculiar silence that filled these typically busy halls and corridors. But, all but a slim few of their Warriors were absent from these neighbouring systems. First, it had been Lothal. The wolves still burned, their portals torn. Two of his company of Ashaka wore their furs, trophies.

The Seer himself was adorned in tablets of metal, various metals of various worlds. Each inscribed with the memory of an important lesson, each inscribed with a remainder of the memories one would hope to lose given time. But that was the burden of the Ashaka and by a greater estimation the Seers. It was their burden to remember as much as it was to see the future. The future made no sense without the past.

This is HIS design. And now they will play our game. The blood flows, the roots grow. And the Jedi - they will be as they always have. Victims of their own heroism..

He was blind but he could see more than any Drael or man. Metal churned, plasma burned.

The Jedi approach.

 

[Sethrak]

Post: 1
Objective: Ambush the Jedi
Inventory: Val-Shae Spear, 1x Pulverizer
Troops:

• 20x Drones Riding Tamed Kryknas
• 2x Warlocks also Riding Kryknas
• 1x Shaman
• 60x Young Kryknas
• 5x Unmounted Kryknas

Tags: TBD
Fighting: TBD (Open to anything)

Sethrak was a bold, if not foolish one. He had disobeyed orders before. He had stolen from his kin before. He had been a heretic before. Today would be no different. While most Bryn'Adûl waited back in the Super Construct, Sethrak had taken a group of Drael with him to meet the enemy before they reached the structure. The group consisted of twenty drones, two Warlocks to enhance their abilities, five grown Kryknas which lead sixty younger kryknas, dangerous in large numbers. Finally, a Shaman to keep the tamed beasts in check and to help resist any force manipulation the jedi would use to control the Kryknas.

He didn't know exactly how many foes they faced, but his force would be a considerable challenge to the Jedi. The Warlocks would enhance the Drael with the force, giving them renewed energy, more strength, and several other small perks. Sethrak would also enhance the others, being a Warlock himself. He hadn't always been orthodox. In fact, he typically focused more on his own abilities in combat but today he would stay true to his order. His priority was to ensure the Shaman stayed alive. Should the Shaman fall, the spider-like mounts could be turned against the Bryn....and that would be disastrous. The Warlock would let the others fight while he defended and enhanced. The Spiders would be formidable, using their eight legs to fight multiple foes, or attack from several angles. Beyond their combat prowess, they were extremely fast for their size. Even more, they were numerous. Fighting one was a challenge, fighting sixty-five would be impossible.

For himself, Sethrak brought a Val-Shae spear to reach his foes from his spider-like mount. For distance, he brought a Pulverizer sidearm. The Pulverizer is a one-handed gun that shot explosive rounds. These rounds could be detonated prematurely if needed....a valuable feature for fighting force-users. The shots were also big and powerful. Blocking them was difficult, and they could explode on contact, meaning the Jedi would likely struggle to defend against it. That being said, the gun was slow in multiple ways. The shots travelled slow, and the gun fired slowly due to the user's need to reset their aim between blasts. A skilled combatant would recognize these weaknesses and use them to take the advantage.

The ambush location was about 600 yards away from the super-construct. The Drael utilized underground tunnels to hide from the Jedi. Above them the land was mostly flat and empty. There was very little cover...a blessing and a curse. Retreat would be costly, so the Bryn needed to take the advantage early, and hold it for the majority of the fight. If things went poorly, they would retreat to a cave not far from the battlefield where the Kryknas dwelled using the tunnels.

With everything set, Sethrak prepared himself for the upcoming struggle. Beyond his own emotions, he reached out into The Force to neutralize the other Drael's feelings. This would both help them in combat, and hide them from the ever-observant Jedi. Despite his efforts the all familiar anxiety of an upcoming battle crept through his ribs.

Experience didn't cure everything.

 

[Aovinr]

Objective: Ambush the Jedi
Equipment: Aovinr's Blade, Armor.
Location: Hanger of the Super-Construct

Aovinr's sour demeanor and large blade cleared the preparing low ranking Bryn'adul forces in front of him as he crossed through the corridor. He'd been stuck on overwatch duty for ages, dealing with mopping up what insignificant pests that cowered in hovels rather than accept their just ends at Draelvasier claws. Aovinr vocally expressed his relief and gratitude that he'd finally been returned to a frontline by high authority.

Aovinr's hulking frame pushed past all the insignificant fodder preparing in the Hanger. He boarded one of the Striker Shards being prepared and simply grabbed the pilot and tossed him out into the hanger. Aovinr sealed the door behind him and moved towards the helm, grabbing hold of the controls and finishing the fighter's preparations to launch.

Once he was done, Aovinr slouched in the seat inside the fighter. His head resting on a clawed hand while he began his waiting. The Chieftain himself had ordered that the forces of the Bryn'adul wait until their bait brought in more prey before attacking. Aovinr saw the wisdom in such a strategy, but his blood boiled for conflict and the waiting was already proving to be tortuous.

"The slaughter to come... my blood trembles in anticipation."

 

[Krarolk T'manu]

POST: I
OBJECTIVE: Ambush the Jedi
ALLIES: BYRN | TBD
ENEMIES: GA | Open to engaging up to 3 enemies at once
EQUIPMENT: In Signature | Five grenade-sized Refined Dramedius Prime Ore Shells | Driller Submachine Gun | Splitter | Equipment on other Zealots varies
UNITS: Zealot Elite Squad (Krarolk, Abvor, the Zealot Commander)

Like many of their kin, the Zealot Elite Squad prepared for a surprise attack.
​

Three Splitter barrels stuck out from the top a nearby rock formation supporting three heads, the only sign of the presence of the trio of high-ranked Zealots from the steep end of the face. They had positioned themselves strategically - the Elite Squad lay prone on a large rock roughly resembling a ramp in shape, with their rifles partially extended over the upwards curve and their bodies descending with it, concealing most of their form below their necks as long as an individual approached them head-on.

"Shall we play the killing game once more?" asked Krarolk to the Elites beside him.

"I don't mind." replied the Zealot Commander. "But why do you ask, Elite T'manu? We don't usually play the killing game unless a swift victory is likely."

"I don't doubt that." replied Krarolk. "But more importantly, it'll give us a chance to strengthen our bonds on the battlefield."

"That's surprising, coming from someone as shut-in as yourself." remarked the Commander. "Did you finally find some true comrades?"

For a brief second, a memory burst into Krarolk's head involuntarily. A memory of a company devastated by an enemy strike that had fallen under his command, a squad who he had nearly sacrificed himself for so that they may pursue the tenants of the Great Crusade for even an hour longer. He had learned later that only two of the eight Zealots survivors in the company he had commandeered had survived the entire Nar Kreeta offensive, albeit in critical condition. There was a growing part of him that wanted to visit those Minors that had suffered so dearly under his desperate command and pay repentance.

If Krarolk survived this battle, then perhaps he would allow himself to visit the two of them and explain his actions, actions which could be used as a learning experience for all three of them.

Pulling himself back to the present, Krarolk replied to his Commander.

"Depending on how you describe 'true comrades', you might be correct."

 

[Master Zoryu]

​

Like a comet, the shuttle, detached from Prosperity, smashed violently into the surface of the foreign terrestrial planet. A mushrooom-shaped cloud of dust rose up from the wreckage and enveloped the pod. However, just a few moments after impact the doors to the shuttle were relieved with a hiss, and a light like a star flooded outward. Light, a light beyond light, filled the sky momentarily and repelled all shadow to the point of blindness. It was not merely light. but the essence of Ashla that radiated from within the shuttle. All creatures great and small, not of the light eternal would feel its sting and shrink away.

Shrink they did from the mouth of the shuttle until a shadow from within temporarily seemed to obscure the source of the light. Yet, as the robed figure stepped into the open it would become clear that the hooded figure was the source of the light rather than the obscurity in its way. "We have come for the Grand Master," a voice spoke with authority from the epicenter of the small sun that seemed to have originated within the shuttle, "and we shall leave with him."

As the voice spoke again, the light faded to reveal a figure standing ready with a bright blue - almost white - lightsaber in hand. While the human male that stood before the dark creatures looked far beyond his years of youth, he stood with a steady confidence that betrayed his true abilities. The old man drew the saber back into a defensive position and he drew the blade upward to his face as he stared down the Bryn'adul who opposed him.

 

[Kat Decoria]

Kat stood around the debrief and looked around as she swallowed hard. It was pretty nerve wracking being around everyone who was basically a stranger to her still. She hadn't really gotten involved with the GA, actually staying in one place for any length of time was hard adjustment for her, adjusting the light armour she was wearing she gave a sigh. The Brynadul again, lately all the fights she had been involved with were the Brynadul, one credit she could give them was that they didn't seem to be linked to the Sith like the Mandalorians of the past. They just seemed to be zealots and dangerous ones that were intent on killing everyone. Kat stretched her limbs as she listened to the debrief of the mission, it seemed that the Bryn had a hostage in their clutches and they hadn't killed this Jedi yet. Interesting, she was curious as to why they would let this Jedi live they were so happy to kill so many before in other battles.

Making her way to her ship docked in the hangar, Kat contacted Mini to get the engines running, the droid bleeped that it would and didn't give her too much attitude. The droid had been more reserved since their move to GA, she figured that he was feeling the same as her. As she jumped into the cockpit, she did a quick check that her systems were working then breathed out slowly, she was curious how the GA were going to approach this. She figured they would need to be somewhat stealthy to infiltrate and then maybe when they could secure the former Grand Master then they would be able to go loud and take down some Bryn on the way out. However, she figured going in loud at first would be a bad idea since they could just execute the hostage before they move one step.

But this wasn't her mission, she would just follow the lead in this and she wasn't a Jedi either at least she wasn't viewing herself as a Jedi anymore. Kat descended to the planet, moving the ship close to the ground Kat opened comms with Mini, "take the ship and cause a distraction elsewhere, might be able to spread the forces thin. Just don't get killed?" Kat chuckled as the droid told her off saying he would never risk his life that way. Jumping out of the ship, she landed and looked around to see if anyone else from the GA had landed when she saw an older man shouting and making his presence in the Light Side of the Force very clear. "Right... So, we aren't going stealth then?" Kat asked herself as she stood and ignited her blue saber pike.

 

[Kenth Ordo]

L E A V I N G _ S O _ S O O N ?
NEW JEDI ORDER
OPERATION: MORGANIZED RESCUE | PROSPERITY
FIRESPRAY-31-CLASS ATTACK CRAFT
ENGAGING: TBD (Open)

​

Kenth stood in one of the many hangar bays of the Prosperity, silently considering the ship before him as one of the technicians listed off the features of this particular model. "And it has a pretty decent hyperdrive, class one with some room for improvement last I checked." The Iridonian mentioned, "You'll be hard-pressed to find a ship that can travel the galaxy faster than this one."

The Jedi padawan frowned, shaking his head, "The StealthX is all fine and dandy, but do you have anything larger, but not as unwieldy as a freighter?" He questioned, shuffling his feet slightly, "I don't want to live out of a one-man cockpit when I'm out on Jedi business."

The tech grimaced, giving him a sympathetic look, "Most of the good transports and gunships were taken by knights and agents...but...there is one…you said your name was Ordo, right?" Not waiting for a reply, the man beckoned for the Jedi to follow him into a medium-sized storage section, flipping a switch so the lights would activate.

"She's old, way old. But I think you can get her purring like the slice hound she is with some TLC." The tech reckoned, turning to look at the Jedi. The corners of Kenth's mouth were dragged upward into the largest grin either of them had ever seen.

Before him was a Firespray-class attack craft.

That was two weeks ago, and Kenth had spent day and night restoring the ship to its former glory, fixing it enough that it was ready to participate in his first outing as a member of the New Jedi Order. They were going to save some man that he had never heard of before (or forgot about) from easily one of the most dangerous adversaries to have existed - the Bryn'adul.

Due to his relative inexperience when it came to Jedi martial prowess, Kenth had been relegated to escorting shuttles to their destination and then helping the knights and masters however he could as long as it didn't get himself killed or, worse, expelled. Making sure to pack a massive thermos of caf for the trip down, Kenth bolted down to the bay where his ship was held and strode inside, quietly admiring the small arsenal he had procured before this mission was to happen.

Taking a sip of the requisite caffeinated beverage, the padawan switched the ship on and listened as the engine roared to life beneath him, angling the ship as necessary so he could depart from the hangar and trail after several of the shuttles that had already departed from the Prosperity. Blinking several times as he felt something tugging at the back of his head, maybe the Force, he clenched his hands around the controls of the ship.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

 

[Ryv]

Location: On-Site
Engaging: Looking for Hot Single Fighters in My Area
Allies: N/A
Enemies: Bryn'adul
Stuff: Lightsaber | Ship | Armor

​

"No," Ryv grumbled as he popped his ship's canopy and vaulted from the cockpit. In response, the small BD unit located within followed its master to the dirt. It beeped furiously, running in wide circles around the Jedi Knight as he fitted and refitted his lightsaber hanging from his belt. "Why are we having this argument again? They'll be fine without me," he turned and pushed forward to scale a nearby pile of rubble. The towering rocks stood a dozen or more meters high. Bits of dust rained down with each placement of his gloved hands, scratching at the back of his throat. The droid managed to keep pace with the Jedi the best way it knew how. By jumping up onto his shoulder to hitch a comfortable ride. It also made it's already obnoxious beeps and whirrs even worse.

Small creatures skittered away as they continued their discussion, the only sign of their passing being the shift and shake of nearby pebbles. BD-8 paid it no heed. It just continued screeching in Ryv's ear.

"I'm not here for NJO shit, BD. I'm here because these slimy alien fucks are getting out of hand, and I'm in an aggressive mood. The Alliance, for all its bureaucratic bullshit, is finally doing something worth supporting. So, we're doing it my way," the Sword paused his rant as he pulled himself and over the last rock on the mound. "Knowing Loske, she or Maynard are making sure this is by-the-books. Which means they're expecting me to do something stupid."

He reached up and took hold of the low-hanging strands of hair framing his face, only to pull them back and twirl them into a tight-knit bun. His wrist brushed the patches of stubble crawling along his jaw, resulting in an agitated grunt from the Jedi.

"I need a shave," Ryv grumbled. "Maybe a haircut too. When was my last cut, BD?" the droid chirped the respective date in its sing-song voice. "Just before Bastion? Fuck, it's been awhile, huh?" he loosed the electrobinoculars hanging from his left side and peered through them. Nothing but rocks and more rocks greeted him at first. If it wasn't for an overhead clearing of clouds and the sudden glint of light reflected from a tall metal obelisk, he probably would've overlooked the sudden drop from the planet's surface. "Think that might be it, Chief?"

He returned the binocs to his side and dropped down from his perch. As he fell, the Jedi Knight took a deep breath. He reached out and called to the latent power blanketing the galaxy. As if a thread to be turned, Ryv weaved the force into a suit of illusory armor. It absorbed the impact without fail. He lifted his commlink to his lips and spoke.

"Get to the ship and prep for an emergency evac, buddy. I'm expecting things to get real hot, real fast," and with that, Ryv continued on his merry way.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Desert of Atollon //:
//: Wyatt Morga //:

​

For weeks, the sound of dull static and a rhythmic beep echoed in the Shadow's apartment. Surveillance of a planet one didn't think much of beyond the destruction the Bryn'adul had done to it. The Intelligence branch assumed it foolish to monitor the place for lifeforms beyond the Bryn, but Allyson had a feeling, one that she couldn't shake. Something more was on the planet, something that wanted to be helped yet left for dead. ​

​

As time passed, a persistent shadow moved, its shape distorting the cameras feeding the information to the Corellian. Following protocol, each camera feed was uploaded to the SIA network. Making her data always obtainable despite the shadow of a doubt that lingered about her. They still didn't trust her; Allyson couldn't blame them - what she had done was unforgivable. She had the Alliance's best interests, but without their knowledge of the true nature of her mission - she was a loose end. ​

​

Yet, she proved her value, so she could live on the short leash she was given. Luckily for her, she knew how to extend that leash without the blind government from knowing. Sitting at her desk, she pondered the Shadow's appearance. It was familiar, and she had found herself having nightmares, lost on this planet. The odd thing about the dreams was that she wasn't herself if she wanted to classify them as such. In the dreams, she was someone else, taller, more robust, at ease in a sense. The feeling of being okay with one's death was an odd emotion but filled with specks of guilt. ​

​

These dreams made her uncomfortable, but she didn't dare share them with anyone. Instead, she used the sleepless nights to study her sources, her feeds, and the Bryn'adul as much as possible. Something there was calling for her the only way a Jedi knew how. ​

//: Present Day //:​

​

A footprint. ​

​

Allyson knelt down, the guise of the Force falling away at her. The light source of the planet reflected off the Technomancer's armor for a brief second before she returned to the shadows of the Force. Her eyes focused heavily on the footprint, it wasn't made recently, but it was one that she had recognized from a few meters before. Whoever it was, it had to be the same being that continued to cross her surveillance feed. ​

​

She stood, staring out at the empty desert shaped and formed by the Bryn after their invasion. She had come to Atollon before, but that was some time ago. Her trip here before now, the Bryn had recently invaded and instantly started to terraform the planet to their liking. Now, the planet didn't resemble anything.​

​

Static buzzed in her ear, and Allyson sighed. The SIA had assigned her a section chief to keep an eye on her and act as her handler. Seems they had learned their lessons with her other escapades. As much as the Corellian despised having a baby sitter, she welcomed the support. For as annoying as he was, he kept the SIA, the Alliance, and the Jedi off her back. ​

​

<Find anything?>​

​

A hand reached her ear as she nodded, he couldn't see her, but she was tracked. A voice as calm as possible, she responded. ​

​

<A few footprints, but I know I'm right in what I'm feeling.>​

​

<Of course, the Jedi feeling.> Rehl wasn't one for the religions of the Force Users. Allyson groaned softly as his tone grated on her. ​

​

<Sure. A bit more time> ​

<I know the Jedi are heading here for some reason though, could you be a peach and find out why.>​

​

<You don't know?>​

​

<We're estranged.>​

​

<Ah yes, I remember. I hear things got out of hand on your last mission.> ​

There was a stifled chuckle from the man, and Allyson smirked and shook her head. Never a dull moment. With that, she cut the communication with the Section Chief and decided to head towards the footprints' direction. As much as she didn't want to be found, she needed whoever was out here to show a sign of life. Through the Force, she reached out - hoping for anything.​

 

[Osam]

Objective: Track Straggler
Equipment:
Kukri
Verikast Drone Armor
Assault Carbine
Pulverizer Sidearm
Tags: Allyson Locke - Prey!

There was something near universal about the worlds that the Bryn'adul put under their dominion - there were no other sapient life forms. In fact, at times there were very few non-sapient lifeforms remaining either. The consistent terraforming projects undertaken by the species meant the devastation of many ecosystems, and the atmospheric shift was often enough to doom any plantlife to oblivion. With the loss of sustenance, herbivores starved, and both omnivores and predators found themselves without proper nutrition. At times such creatures were able to adapt but to say that every species had managed to change their tendencies fast enough to survive would be a deception.

The relevance of such vital facts was made clear when the Draelvasier were hunting for someone. Atollon had been under their sway for quite some time, and while Osam had not participated in that particular campaign, he was fairly certain that few people had lived there in the beginning, any who had were either dead or long evacuated. It was why the chance that the footprints that the scouting party had discovered had been left by some ancient native or some biped animal were immensely unlikely.

A shriek rallied the attention of the squad leader, and he spun upon his heel, following the gaze of a Sraelvun subordinate as they pointed out the continued path of footsteps. With a complimentary pat on the shoulder, the First of the Risen directed the dozen under his command and set them upon the path of the interloper. He had been dispatched alongside a few other bands to hunt for potential wanderers, though the exact nature of the objective was somewhat lost on him. From what he understood, the Jedi had lost something of value on the world, and the Seers predicted the arrival of strike-teams in an attempt at retrieving whatever was misplaced.

Why hadn't they brought to bear an entire army to stop the incursion in their territory? Were they busy rearming themselves after one of their more recent campaigns, or did the Titan simply not wish to bring so many resources to Atollon? Not for the first time, the hybrid questioned the strategies employed by his superiors, not out of treachery, but out of a failed attempt at understanding. Perhaps additional observation and perception of the larger picture would yield the reason for their relatively minor defense force, but he doubted it. For all of his accomplishments, perhaps he was simply unsuited to the role of the generals.

Cresting a hill, Osam became acutely aware of a sudden glint of bright light in the distance. Perhaps a hundred yards away, but gleaming like the barrel of a sniper rifle nevertheless. It twisted and contorted, the figure sending the light in different directions as they moved and the sunlight lanced against their equipment from this angle and that one until finally, they disappeared again. He hadn't been aware that they'd been hunting a phantasm, but the sudden annihilation of a physical presence disturbed him. Was technology capable of accomplishing such feats of immense stealth, or had he merely been misled by some form of camouflage?

"The footsteps remain, even if the ghost does not." He spoke, at last, jutting the barrel of his carbine against the ground to indicate the clearest path. "Consider this the same as our celebratory hunts... our prey hides and cowers." If their sudden disappearance could even remotely be attributed to fear. "We shall tear them down together. Whoever slays them gets first pick of the flesh." Toothy half-grins, salivating maws, and suddenly predatory eyes met his gaze. Sraelvun hungered... it was their nature, and he had not forgotten it in his ascension.

He'd give them meat to fill their stomachs.

 

[Wyatt Morga]

His X-Wing hummed with purpose as it flew through the vacuum of space. The Astromech TD-2 beeped and whirred behind him, and Wyatt could offer nothing more than a frown to his robotic companion. With words low, as though someone might overhear him, he responded -​

​

“It’s too dangerous to bring anyone else. I already told you.”​

​

The robot gave a sad beep back, and Wyatt exhaled heavily - already stressed by his choice to abandon the Jedi Order only a short time after becoming its Grandmaster.​

​

“Without Tathra Khaeus , the Bryn’adul will fall. Jend’ro and others already tried assassinating him once to no effect; but…”, he hesitated. So many had tried, and either through ignorance or pride he had thought himself able to do it alone.​

​

“... but if I can do it, I won’t be coming back. The Jedi have Peace, they do not need me - I wasn’t ready to lead them anyway.”, he sighed.​

​

Perhaps it wasn’t ignorance or pride, but selfless sacrifice. Wyatt considered all three, knew that it was a touch of each - and doubly knew that the Force warned him against it every time he meditated. Like the red hot pulse of a neon light in a nightclub, his visions were racked with that constant reminder.​

​

And he ignored them.​

​

He would end the war with the Bryn’adul himself, and in his martyrdom he may yet succeed in aligning the Jedi to one common goal. All he had to do was win one fight - the only fight in his life that would ever matter.​

​

---​

​

The fire had gone out hours ago - little more than a smoldering ash of what it once was. It was tired, knew the end was close; holding onto its flame through the smallest bits of ember, tucked deep beneath the remains of the wood, surrounded by rocks. Dark now, the cave Wyatt shared with this failing fire grew cold.​

​

How long as had he been here? It took a moment to consider the time frame - nigh on a year without food or water, living a life of constant guerilla warfare, Wyatt could feel his aging frame give out by the day. Only his mastery over the Force allowed him to maintain himself - but even the Force had its limits, and with Wyatt grossly emaciated, dirty, covered in scars he poorly healed himself, and nigh matted hair; he knew he was at his own limits.​

​

The Force be damned, it couldn’t keep him alive anymore.​

​

In truth, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be alive. How many had he cut down since his arrival? The entire planet was corrupted, and his efforts to destroy their infrastructure, their hierarchy, it meant almost nothing as a single man. Every time, the Bryn’adul would simply return with more leaders, more troops, and more hunters to end him. Yet, only a few weeks before they had suddenly stopped their chase.​

​

Perhaps they knew his death was going to come naturally enough anyway. He wouldn’t fault them for letting Morga simply waste away in the confines of his rocky prison. It was a cleaner, safer solution than letting him go out a martyr.​

​

Wyatt’s calloused fingers ran down a more recent scar on his ribs - still tender to the touch, red from the poor healing job he had done on it. It stung, but the pain kept him grounded when he could not focus on meditation. A wince, and his fingers moved to his rib bones - jutting and painful against the skin that ran taught over them.​

​

How strong he had once been - a beacon for so many padawans. A darker side within him hoped they would never find his body when he was gone… He wanted to be remembered for the pillar that he was - not what he had become. What he had failed to become.​

​

His neck muscles grew weak as he closed his eyes. Wyatt hadn’t cried since his wife and son were killed - and he wouldn’t start today; but The Force knew he wanted to. To mourn this life, for his endless mistakes and hubris - to finally find peace away from all of this he had created for himself.​

​

Yet, it was in that moment of his eyes closed, feeling the Force envelop him and his dulled emotions that he could feel it. The distant echo of another - a Master using the Force on the planet… A rogue agent? Wyatt sucked in a sharp, startled breath as he stood - barely holding himself on his knobbled knees, and as the rags wrapped around his legs and waist trailed from his movement - he walked to the entrance of the cave, to prod the Force.​

​

Were there more?​

​

Yet he could not feel an invasion force in orbit, only a select few Jedi. This wasn’t the liberation of the planet…​

​

“No… No, no!”, he cried out from a dry mouth. It sounded almost unfamiliar, even to him in that moment. Fear, for the first time in many months, had bit into his voice like a snake - and its poison leaked past his lips as his eyes watched the horizon.​

​

He had failed to hold himself off from the Force - they had tracked him down. Not only would they find a shadow of their former Grandmaster, but they put themselves in extreme danger - all for the sake of a man who didn’t deserve their rescue attempts.​

​

Then, it became clear -​

​

They had stopped hunting him not to allow him to die alone, but to encourage an evacuation. His blood ran cold as he started to hobble forward - suddenly reaching out through the Force for someone - anyone to hear him.​

​

It was Allyson Locke who had first felt his words through the Force - but they were not likely to be the ones she expected to hear;​

​

“You can’t be here! Tell the Jedi to retreat!”, he pleaded through the Force, and even in that telepathic communication a hint of his newfound weakness would permeate. Despite Wyatt attempting to hide his pain, Allyson and all Jedi who would hear his echo in the Force would feel the slightest fraction of what he felt currently.​

​

An immense amount of pain.​

 

[Keldothera]

Location: Aboard a Gunboat
Role: Overseeing local forces
Tags: Krarolk T'manu | Sethrak | Aovinr | Osam |
Engaging: More than one of you Jedi scum, at least.

Mon Cala burned.

The General had been pulled from the campaign of the planet, her armour still gleaming with blood as the Gunboat arrived at Atollon. Apparently, this was important. But not important enough to stop the burning of Mon Cal under Galak's command or New Alderaaan under the Chieftains. So, in their stead the Hand picked her out of dozens of other Generals to go out and oversee a job they could simply release the Savages for. Her report on the Super-Constructs population and armaments wasn't incorrect, there still were thousands of Savage Drones in dormant cocoons and even more Krykna.

But instead, they'd had her send out hunting parties of Risen - Zealots setting up sniping positions with anti-material rifles. They'd kicked a force god off of Atollon, Tathra had cut off the Bendu's arm; watching him burn alive when he disappeared in an explosion of force energy. But now, all this preparation for a few Jedi. Today the Bryn fought with a hand held behind its back, hobbling on one leg - she didn't understand the tactic, but from what she understood from the Hand of Khaeus. Tathra wanted to lure out powerful Jedi and kill them, revenge for Hrothgar and Namedia.

That was why they'd allowed the Jedi Master to live on Atollon. For a long time it had been just a rumour, but the Ashaka and Tachael had kept it a well guarded and well protected secret. Keldothera popped the hatch, looking down on the strange coral trees that stretched out toward the sky. Her head scanning the terrain between the massive pauldrons on her forearms.

"Hunting parties, Jedi landings confirmed. I want any sightings reported to me."

They were strangely beautiful.

But before they could get to work, she had a Warlock to corral. The Gunboat descended ahead of the hunting party Sethrak had brought together. Keldothera jumped from the Gunboat, landing directly in front of the Warlock on his impressive steed.

"Warlock, you mindless cur. You leave the Construct, when I say you can."

 

[Sethrak]

Post: 2
Objective: Be a useless, annoying, cur.
Tags: Keldothera
Troops:

• 20x Drones Riding Tamed Kryknas
• 2x Warlocks also Riding Kryknas
• 1x Shaman
• 60x Young Kryknas
• 5x Unmounted Kryknas

The General had surprised Sethrak, but he quickly regained his posture. She wanted him back at the construct? Did she have any strategy apart from revealing to any scouts of the enemy that there's a force underground? What did she think of him? Was he but another soldier in her war-machine, or was he a valued member that had helped deliver many victories, and even rescued the Titan once?

He kept a mocking smile from forming on his face, trying to be respectful to his superior. "Of course, General. I'll abandon our ambush and.... what is it you want us to do? Fight within the super construct? I respectfully request to deny your request. Our Kryknas are much more efficient outside, utilizing tunnels, and open terrain to maneuver with speed and flank the enemy."

Typically he didn't speak as much but he didn't want to surrender his plan, it would be effective.