No Jedi Left Behind [Jedi/Sith and allies]

[Cassius Droma]

Objective: Rescue Jedi
Location: Jabiim Border City
Allies: Jedi
Enemies: Sith
Near: [member="Zoltan Charrel"]

This guy really liked looking at him. Like, a lot. Cassius almost sighed. Out of all of the Sith he could have run into on this muddy excuse for a planet, he had to pick the one that wanted to play with his food. Why couldn’t he have gotten one of the burly ones, who had a lightsaber that was much too big for his body and didn’t sound like they could read? That one would have at least attacked by now.

During their little staring contest, the Sith mentioned a trap. Cassius blinked, possibly for the first time in a full minute. Trap? This tore his gaze away, and he looked in the direction of where the group had gone. He focused, trying to see if he could sense any fear or conflict from the group… and he didn’t feel anything. A deception, no doubt. Cassius looked back to the man incredulously, and their stares locked again. Despite the brief moment where he was distracted, he found it hard to look away.

Were the guy’s eyes changing?

Cassius tried to blink, to look away, but found it harder to do so… as if he was in a dream, and had no control over his body… This is a trick. Wake up, Cass. Do something. Do something now.

Lashing out, Cassius pointed his hand at the ground in front of the Sith Assassin, sending a blast of Force energy. He hoped it would splash a large amount of mud and water up. At the same time, he beckoned a large cargo container off to the side to slide in the direction of the Sith Assassin.

 

[WolfMortum]

Location: Jabiim City.​

Engaging: Facing his former Jedi Apprentice, [member="Romi Jade"].​

Nearby: [member="Cassius Droma"] & [member="Zoltan Charrel"].​

Special Inventory: Heavy Battle Attire, Promissium Annulos, Lightsabers.​

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It seemed there would be no words to quell the hate and the hurt churning within Romi's heart and mind for her former Mentor, a man that despite all his flaws (and they were many), had looked upon the younger woman as a younger Sister, family where Veiere had known nothing of the sort outside of the Jedi Order until he and Kay had bore Children. [member="Romi Jade"] was the closest thing to a sibling that Veiere had ever had, far more so than Bastin, his blood brother, estranged and also bent on killing him.

Her facial features softened; her expression had completely fallen. She thought she heard it right the first time, but her mind chose to loop his voice and so she heard it a billion time before she understood.

It would seem the air had been completely taken from her. A moment passed and she felt herself barely breathing; she swallowed her own spit. At barely a whisper, "Wha..."

She jumped to her feet, before resting her moist palm against the surface of her forehead. When she regained her ability to breath, she soon had to shift her thoughts so they too would be back on track. "Master...this is absurd. Truly" She turned to him, almost as if her eyes were pleading.

"My loyalty to you has been forever deep...I have been at your side since I was a child. I have never questioned your judgement or faith in me but this I must attest to. I can-"

She cut herself off before pacing the room, only to return to the spot she left just seconds ago "I cannot do this." She motioned with her arms, "You appointed me to the Council...It was questionable but I did what you asked of me. Now...you're appointing me to Grandmaster...it's never been done and I'm not qualified to hold such a title."

She had never thought herself ready, forever doubted her ability and assumed that she would inevitably fail at the goals she had set before her. Veiere had chosen to step down as the Grandmaster of the Deneba Enclave for personal reasons, feeling that it was far too much an arrogant statement to claim to be a Jedi Master, while too holding such a prominent position as King over an entire world and nations of people, the Commenor Systems Alliance not yet having fallen to the Sith Empire back then.

Romi had been his greatest student, one of whom had been the pride of his career within the Jedi Order. It wasn't misplaced, the confidence that he had had in his Apprentice, but something that she had earned well over the years they had trained and worked together as Padawan Learner and Jedi Knight, a partnership that so many others had established and worked to support the Jedi Order and maintain the balance of the Force, generation after generation before them.

Romi had never once failed him, in his mind. So many years, so many memories and it had all come down to this...-If words were not enough to reach out to the true Romi, the one that Veiere had known, the one being smothered in the darkness of her anger, the power rolling over her like a consuming presence, then perhaps his meeting with [member="Coren Starchaser"] had been more than just a simple offer, and perhaps this was meant to be.

He did not falter from his position, even when his former student lept from the ground in a violent lunge towards him. Veiere's right hand lifting with his hilt held loosely with his palm, the emitter pointing back at him, though from Romi's perspective, she might not realize the pivotal fact and believe that he were to ignite the blade and strike back against her. If she did not have the foresight to see beyond her rage, beyond her emotions then she would fail to realize that he were about to relinquish his lightsaber, at-least one of the two, to his student in offer.

What words were there to be said for his family, his wife, his children...-Would they understand that he had been willing to lay down his life, for reality to reach his Padawan. Perhaps one last lesson that he could share with her, where 'there was nothing worth saying' but instead letting the Force and their connection to one another bound in life, speak for him.

 

[H3xle]

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Objecive: Aid the Evacuation
Location: Jabiim City
Gear: Lightsaber, blaster pistol
Nearby: [member="cassius droma"] | [member="veiere arenais"] | [member="romi jade"] | [member="zoltan charrel"]




Harrowing minutes expired as Jonn led his group through the maze like streets of the city to the rendezvous point. Still more as the refugees loaded onto the shuttles. Jonn didn't relax until the shuttles lifted off with his and another group of refugees.

Then Jonn unholstered his blaster pistol and re-entered the maze of streets. His senses could feel two confrontations now, one that had yet to erupt into violence and another that kept teetering to the edge and back. Jonn chose to go to the latter, which was the original battle he'd felt. He let his sense flow out as he did a combat jog down a street, stop at the corner to check the cross street, then run across. He got closer as Veiere and Romi spoke of their history. He began to feel the emotions soaring in the confrontation before he could hear the voices.

One of the things his parents had drilled into him from an early age, having not the lessons of Jedi Masters to guide their raising of their force sensitive son, was to be aware. They taught him that a clear mind and open eyes would see a way through a confrontation where anger shrouded eyes and mind might only see the need for confrontation. He stepped onto the scene of Romi coming down at Veiere and the latter holding an unlit saber. His eyes tagged everything in the area, and his mind tried to fast track the data, but it was ultimately his sense in the force that told him that Veiere wasn't fighting back just yet. He couldn't pin point why he felt that, he didn't know the man or the Sith he fought.

Jonn stepped forward, placing himself against the corner of a nearby building as Romi descended, and he took her under aim. He could shout for her to stand down, but she was committed to her action. She couldn't abate her attack without leaving herself utterly open. The only thing he had that could reach her in time was a blaster bolt.

The decision was made almost before he realized it, and his finger squeezed the trigger as he lined up his sights to where she would be, aiming for center mass.

A single bolt of green lanced out from his cover, aiming to hit Romi in the side and deflecting her attack.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Objective: Medvac
Allies: Jedi
Suspicious: [member="Vanessa Vantai"]

"Suspicious contacts inbound at extreme range; we're being hailed" the communications officer announced, a little surprised that they would be headed in their direction with weapons trained on them.

"This is the Imperial frigate Mordecai. We do not recognize your IFF transponders. Please identify yourselves"

"We're doing medvac here, on a humanitarian mission, we have no hostile intent"

If they don't recognize our transponders, then it's entirely possible they made faulty or no updates on which transponder signatures corresponded to whom, the white Twi'lek thought, while holding their fire for the time being. After all, the enemy hasn't opened fire yet and there is no reason to attract any more suspicion for the time being. A few of the injured in the wilderness were now on their way, but also some of the ship crewmembers began using passive sensor readings so as to how to space themselves apart to ensure that the lowest total risk would be incurred, with safe maneuvering distances between them being observed to allow for safe operation of the medvac craft. But, with weapons still powered down, they would still be able to keep up the appearances of doing medvac, especially as medvac craft arrived at docking ports. Until they are fired at, that is. However, that was a very real possibility here. The gunners, the pilots were getting nervous by the appearances of still-potential hostiles, but the medical personnel had more faith that they would not be fired at. Just that under weapons hold, they couldn't fire at hostiles until they are either fired at or ordered to, and she feels it was better to keep doing medvac for the time being.

Spoiler: Therapy Command

Capital ships:

ANS Cinquedea (Jambiya-class pocket carrier)
ANS Manpha (Manpha-class artillery corvette)
S-4 (Spirit-class picket corvette)
S-5 (Spirit-class picket corvette)

Embarked craft:

24 Chiloon-IV fighters (standard configuration)
16 U-Wings (transport configuration)

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The ships were above them and Coren knew the rebels aboard those ships were ready. They knew that the Jedi were needed for the galaxy and any fight that came hammering away at the Jedi was not good for the galaxy as a whole. That was why Coren was here, the way he was. A warrior, defender of the light, protector of the people. He knew he made mistakes, missteps, bad calls, and harsh judgements. He wasn’t always right, but he followed the path the Force laid out for him. A Jedi was the closest thing to what he was, and it was what he strove to be. Being a part of the Jedi and leading the galaxy to a place of peace didn’t always work well together.

But rescue missions? That was something he could do. And show the next gaggle of Jedi how to do it. And why.

Now, the Sith were here, preventing their escape. Good. He needed a fight. “Are you going to let me take these Jedi home?” He asked. “Or are you going to stop me?”

His lightsaber ignited.

[member="Darth Sibilus"]

 

[Zoltan Charrel]

Near: [member="Cassius Droma"]
Objective: Play with his food
Allies: Sith
Enemies: Jedi

He could feel the Jedi wavering, fighting to metaphorically keep his head above the water. His mind stirred restlessly, his thoughts betraying him. Zoltan grinned beneath his mask as he continued to play with the Jedi's mind, trying to dominate him in a way that he'd never been before. But even for as young as this boy appeared to look, there was an unseen power that Zoltan had apparently underestimated.

In the blink of an eye, the Jedi lashed out in an attempt to break their connection. His hand shot out and in the rush of the Force, the mud and water at Zoltan's feet exploded into the air. A physically harmless move, but one that if not handled properly would cause as a distraction to the Sith Assassin, causing him to break his line of sight and his concentration. Zoltan would give the Jedi credit where it was due. That was a smart move.

There was no time to think, only to react. Fortunately, a hunter's greatest ally is its instincts. Zoltan had felt the buildup: he knew something was coming. He turned his head to the side and raised his left arm to bury his face into it. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt the weight of the wet mud and water splash into his frontside. The brown color seemed to sit on his black clothing as some of it stuck to him, other parts falling to wet, messy clumps back to the ground. His eyesight may have been broken, but Zoltan could still feel his mind touching the Jedi's.

He tried to force his mind deeper, "Be still!" He screamed in his head, and ultimately Cassius' as well. He poured his malice and his hate into his words, as he willed them to overcome his opponent. But then, his ears picked up a screech of metal to his right as a large container was hurled into the air. It sped across the alley towards him, and it was fast.

But the assassin was faster. His right arm shot outwards to his side his hand still clasped around his lightsaber hilt, his knuckles aimed in the direction of the approaching projectile. All of a sudden, the flying metal container froze in midair, hovering still momentarily before falling with a loud crash into the wet ground only a foot or two from where Zoltan stood.

His eyes were on the Jedi again, his shielding arm now resting at his side once more and his lightsaber arm still held horizontally to the side. "You. Will. Be. Still." His words were heavy as he shoved them mercilessly into the Jedi's mind. Now, Zoltan's left foot stepped forward, splashing into a puddle of water. Then, his right. Slowly, he stalked towards his opponent, his attention focused on try to subdue and immobile the Jedi.

 

[Zak Dymo]

Location: The Train
Gear: Sasori Robes | Bracers | Amphistaff | Lightsaber | Hold Out Blaster | Multitool
Tags: [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Cambria Zadira"] | [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Riley Reese"]
Engaging: Open for dance partners

This rescue operations was definitely a Starchaser op.

Business in the front, where that old Tea Hermit and some Twi'lek were engaging Sir Whips-a-Lot. Party in the back, where Coren seemed like he was having and old fashioned stare down/power-up.

Ser Scruffy, King of the Northern Pancakes, wanted to keep to the plan. Rescue the Jedi. Everything else was secondary. Giving a nod toward Théo, the young Pantoran sliced the lock and then proceeded inside the train. He didn't know who the chick was with the rifle, but she had great eyes.

Moving through the train, the blue-skinned youngling surveyed the interior of the individualized holding cells. The locking mechanisms were slightly more complex than the ones on the doors to the train cars.

"This might take a moment," the boy remarked quietly, pulling out his multi-tool.

 

[Onrai]

[member="Cathul Thuku"]

"They're refusing to identify themselves." The bridge officer said to the ship's captain. "They claim to be doing medevac for a 'humanitarian mission.' I've heard no information regarding a crisis or anything of the sort going on in this system."

"Very well." The captain sent a message to the vessels in question as it moved closer, still scanning through the IFF database for information about these enigmatic ships. "This is the Mordecai. There is no humanitarian mission occurring on this planet per Imperial records and no records of a medevac required in-system. The planet's medical facilities are suitable enough to handle most medical emergencies. You are ordered to power down and prepare to be boarded."

Ending the transmission, he looked at the bridge crew. "Power up shields and weapons. Prime the main turret. We'll go in shooting from long range if we have to."

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Objective: Halt the Jedi
Location: Jabiim City
Allies: Sith
Enemies: Jedi
Nearby: [member="Zoltan Charrel"] [member="Jonn Taver"] [member="Veiere Arenais"] [member="Cassius Droma"] [member="Romi Jade"]

The green laser flew through the air for it's intended target, but a sudden streak of blue impacted it, dispersing it's energy before it could strike. From around the corner a large and rather lanky figure stepped, the same blue lightning that had stopped the plasma wrapping it's way around his arms. Despite being masked it was clear there was a sense of annoyance from him. It could be seen in his posture, on how the lightning sparked around him.

"Have you no tact Jedi? Let them have their reunion uninterrupted. If you're looking for a fight, I'm sure I can accommodate you."

 

[Riley Reese]

[member="Boo Heavenshield"]

Location: Train.


They were in and slowly making ground. Riley followed after Boo as he hacked through each lock they came across. This was something she was alright with, she was an excellent fighter but not that great with hacking.

Finally, they came to where the first of the holding cells were located. Her cybernetic eyes scanned the room and the cells within. Judging by the size of the train and how small the cells were, there must have been quite a few. "How many prisoners are on board this thing?"

 

[Darth Thuyrn]

The Sith mounted a hybrid strategy, pushing the Jedi back with his snapping whip while he defended with his shield. In close-quarters, he would then try to use his shield as an offensive weapon by attempting to bash it into his nearest foes to knock them back or dislodge them from the train. Though he was unrelenting in his movements and his ferocity, part of his energy was spent ensuring that his footing on the train car never wavered. One slip could send him tumbling down off the side of the train, and at the rate of speed they were traveling through the muddy wastes it was a certain death sentence.

A shimmer of metallic glint and a premonition of danger. The Pau'an slaver recoiled back, one of his Massassi's lanvarok disks bouncing off his lightwhip before embedding itself into the face of his shield. Now pushed back, the Sith bared his teeth in anger and barked out a curse at the Jedi.

"Worms! The Master will have you, your bones fed to his hounds!"

A section of the train's metallic roof was torn free from its bearings and flung towards the offending Jedi like a spinning scythe ready to cut down the harvest. This was done without regard to the Massassi still engaging the Jedi, which had been beaten back to such a degree that it hardly mattered to the Sith what happened to them. They were tools to be used and discarded as needed.

Just like the cretins shackled in the train's cargo hold.

[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] | [member="Cambria Zadira"]​

[member="Boo Heavenshield"] | [member="Riley Reese"] | [member="Abigail Meredydd"] | [member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

Location: The Train
Gear:Armour | Saber
Tags: [member="Boo Heavenshield"] | [member="Riley Reese"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] |
[member="Cambria Zadira"] | [member="Cotan Sar'andor"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Abigail Meredydd"]
Engaging: Open for dance partners


Proceeding into the first of the cars, there was little space for movement with a narrow corridor on one side and the lined with cells. Théo did not like this, if they were to be detected and attacked there was little room for a fight. Coupled with this was his innate fight against the want to go to Coren and join the fight against the Sith, Théo had to learn to control his urges, his Valkyri blood brewing within him calling to him with the thrill of it all. "You only have ten minutes Boo, before we start cutting our way through". They could not afford to take their time, they did not have much of it, nor the Jedi trapped on this infernal train.

"This is the first of several cars .. no matter the number of Jedi we have to get them all", he spoke to the young girl. "While Boo is working on the locks we need to take up what defensive position we can. I'll take the rear ..", he nodded toward the front of the car, "If you could take up position toward the front of this car. Let's keep surprises to a minimum". It was not much of a plan, but it was a plan.

And they didn't have much time.

Théo moved back down the car toward where they entered and with saber in hand he was ready to intercept anything or anyone that might try and stop them.

 

[Cassius Droma]

Objective: Rescue Jedi
Location: Jabiim Border City
Allies: Jedi
Enemies: Sith
Near: [member="Zoltan Charrel"]

This was not the fight he was expecting, one he wasn’t prepared for. His Jedi training had mostly focused on certain abilities, and ways of centering oneself in order to greater extend their connection to the Force. Yet, teachings dealing with the mind, with the intangible, had always been difficult for him. Being a fighter pilot and the son of engineers, Cassius had always lived in the physical world, so when the Force had been introduced to him, he found it hard to get a grasp of. While he had a better understanding of it, and of his feelings, deep parts of the mind were not subjects he had managed to broach yet.

In effect, this man was his greatest weakness.

Cassius’s attack had been in the physical realm, as it was all he knew how to do. While the assassin’s grip on his mind might have lessened ever so slightly, they came back with a raging force when the water had settled. Even his next attack had been dealt with swiftly, with hardly any effect. It was becoming harder to concentrate now, and each word the man spoke seemed to sink him further and further into the mud, so to speak.

He was finding it hard to move – not due to a physical force acting upon him, but simply because his body did not wish to move. There was an alleyway off to his left. He tried to run towards it, but felt as if he was walking through permacrete that was beginning to harden. All he could muster was to bring his right foot up before it came back down in the same place it had been, splashing water and mud all over his boots.

How could he fight this? Physical attacks didn’t work, and was it even possible to meet this man toe-to-toe on the mental playing field? Cassius doubted it highly. And yet, he couldn’t let himself get captured. He’d be tortured, killed… he wasn’t going to go out that way. So, he planted himself in the mud and stared directly back at the assassin. His fear of death fed into anger, anger which he directed back at the black-clad man. Cassius’s face began to turn red, veins protruding on his neck. He gritted his teeth and a scream started to bubble in his throat.

He had to give it his best shot. If he could break this man’s hold for just a second, he could get away. At least, he hoped.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Objective: Medvac Engage hostiles
Allies: Jedi
Enemies: [member="Vanessa Vantai"]

"Channel closed; also the enemy ship has one main turret"

"Red alert, weapons tight! Have the Manpha and Squadron 1 microjump to the aft of the enemy; all other ships, stand by for evasive maneuvers!"

That was not going to work, but at least one had to try, Cathul thought, while the now-confirmed enemy cut the channel. Often confirmation of an enemy was all it took to go from weapons hold to weapons tight. The energy torpedoes on all three ships that remained were being primed to fire their ordnance flying at relativistic speeds at the enemy monitor. Meanwhile, as the Manpha was performing a microjump aft of the enemy, it was also getting its own main turret loaded and ready to fire as soon as was possible (and it may as well took a few seconds after reversion since traversal speeds were a thing). Attacking from multiple vectors was a sound strategy as soon as one was dealing with an enemy that couldn't fire back along every arc. Yet, there was one element missing: the fighters. Firing homing concussion missiles at the engines or turret was the main priorities of the squadron being dispatched to deal with the enemy ship: there still was a need to protect the medvac unit if there were additional patients that needed to be taken out of their medical predicament.

"Fire!"

Spoiler: Therapy Command

Capital ships:

ANS Cinquedea (Jambiya-class pocket carrier)
ANS Manpha (Manpha-class artillery corvette)
S-4 (Spirit-class picket corvette)
S-5 (Spirit-class picket corvette)

Embarked craft:

24 Chiloon-IV fighters (standard configuration)
16 U-Wings (transport configuration)

 

[Zoltan Charrel]

Objective: Capture the Jedi
Location: Jabiim Border City
Allies: Sith
Enemies: Jedi
Near: [member="Cassius Droma"]

Zoltan couldn't help but chuckle as he watched his ensnared prey attempt to run, only to find that his legs would carry him nowhere. This Jedi's mind was active, his thoughts running wild, desperation beginning to appear in the forms of fear and anger. Zoltan could feel the Jedi's emotions bubbling, growing from a low simmer into a boil. But it wasn't the Jedi way to give in to those emotions. Was it not preached in their sacred doctrine that fear and anger were paths to the Darkside?

But here, standing right in front of him, a Jedi was emitting those emotions like a beacon, struggling to keep them in check. Zoltan's mind latched onto it like a tick would latch onto cattle, selfishly basking in the other man's dread. He watched as the Jedi's face began to turn red out of concentration, a veins protruding through his neck in which Zoltan could see the man's pulse ever so slightly. It was almost intoxicating, teasing the Anzat into letting go and feeding on him here and now. "Your attempts are futile." Zoltan stated bluntly, pushing with his mind to subdue the Jedi's thoughts. "Your thoughts are my thoughts now. You belong to me."

But now wasn't the time and here wasn't the place. It was too risky.... If the Jedi's friends came back, he'd be so consumed in his feeding haze that he wouldn't be able to defend himself. No... He needed to take the Jedi alive and take him back to the Sabretooth. Only then could he feed. The feeding wouldn't kill the Jedi, oh no. It would leave him in a mental state of agony and despair, and only when Zoltan had driven him to the brink of insanity would he then turn the Jedi in to the Emperor and collect his payment. Jedi were worth a lot these days, you know.

Zoltan was close now, just out of the Jedi's reach. He walked behind the Jedi, giving him a wide berth. "Do not resist." Zoltan's mind brushed against the Jedi's, commanding him to be still. First, he sought to remove the Jedi's lightsaber from his grasp. If he was able to wrench it free, Zoltan would clip it to his left hip. Then, the assassin produced a set of SC-401 stun cuffs from a pouch on his belt. If the Jedi were unable to break free of Zoltan's mind control, he'd find his hands being cuffed together.

 

[Cassus Stoma]

"I'll never." He spat vehemently, immediately concluding he had overstepped his boundaries after allowing his head to become limp once more, sadly dropping. But each word that Taral spoke edged Jace closer, it brought him further into the darkness of anger and hate that dwelled within his very core. He couldn't rid it, for it had become so integral to him and his power; despite every reassurance it wasn't there. The Knight refused to speak further, and each moment that passed became more of an internal prison. He dwelled on the dead, on the missing, and captured. He reflected on his inability to save those that he cared for, and the betrayal of his own Master. It hurt, and it brought pain. But he couldn't act, right? He couldn't dare act on those feelings.

Jace began to breath heavier, his chest rising and falling rather rapidly within its confines. Khel needed to escape, and his rage had begun to play a factor. Tsisaar had been more than capable of defeating Jace in his current state, and even preventing his further actions as the Jedi's eyes closed in a focus. He could feel the living force swirl around him and allow him to guide it towards the restraints that soon began to take itself apart. Be it forcefully like destruction, or simply piece by piece. He couldn't tell, nor could he care. He had to escape. That is all that he knew.

[member="Tsisaar Taral"]

 

[Riley Reese]

"So...there's a lot then." Riley commented when Theo told her that there were several cars. That was a lot of Jedi, and a lot of time anand things that could go wrong. Well, worse then what they were now. That mich was evident by the sounds of the battle raging on the roof of the next train car over.

Theo was right, though, they needed to be prepared for whatever came at them next. Riley faced the direction they just came from and took up position. She was down on one knee and using a crate as cover. Her rifle trained on the only door at the end of the car. One thing she did notice, however, was the lack of guards inside the train itself. Where the Sith and those red skinned beings the only ones here? Or had the rest of the guards been moved to a higher valued prisoner?

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]
[member="Boo Heavenshield"]

 

[Cassius Droma]

Objective: Rescue Jedi
Location: Jabiim Border City
Allies: Jedi
Enemies: Sith
Near: [member="Zoltan Charrel"]

It wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working? He was giving it everything he had… did this assassin’s powers truly eclipse his own to such a terrifying degree? Cassius had thought that his knowledge of the Force was at the very least past an amateur level… but perhaps there was still much for him to learn. Was this really how he was going to go out? Standing in the middle of a muddy alleyway, captured by someone who merely stared him down?

No, there had to be something he could do. And yet, try as he might, as hard as he pushed, his feet only seemed to sink further and further into the muck. His heart pounded in his chest, in his ears. His fear was rising each passing second… fear. Cassius paused in his futile onslaught of emotion. Cassius, you fool! He chided himself. You can’t fight a man using his own tools against him. The assassin was no doubt feeding off of the fear and anger he was exuding, rather than being repelled by it.

He tried to slow his breathing, to soothe the blood and adrenaline racing through his veins. As the man in the mask approached, Cassius closed his eyes and concentrated… really concentrated. Fear and anger were easy… those were his natural instincts, not having grown up in the Jedi way. Compassion, love, kindness – those were the things he had to focus on now, if he had any hope of lessening the hold on him.

The young Jedi thought of his mentor, Gianna – her beautiful red hair, the way she always had a smile on her face. In his mind’s eye, he looked at how they would spend time together and talk, giving him insights to the light side and of the Force without it seeming like training. The image of Naboo flashed across his mind, the paradise that he could possibly call home one day. Through the cold rain, he felt a rush of warmth over his entire body.

His leg moved. As a hand touched his, his head snapped in the direction of the assassin. He could move again. Not knowing how long this would last, he pushed as hard as he possibly could against the ground and shot upwards, landing on the roof of a short building nearby. He nearly fell to his knees – just the past few minutes had been draining, and he still felt sluggish, but he knew he had to keep going. So, he started to run as fast as the Force and his body could take him.

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Darth Thuyrn"] [member="Cambria Zadira"]

Metal screeched behind him and a glint of metal flashed in his peripheral vision. As one of the claws swiped at him, Tiland dropped to the surface of the train. The claws swiped past him, slicing a single hair from his ponytail. The sheet of metal hurtled over his head, crashing into the two Massassi. Tiland sprang back to his feet, balancing lightly on the balls of his feet and absorbing the momentum of the train into his knees.

He flexed his knuckles around the staff as he watched the engagement between his comrade and the Sith. He paused for a moment to open the comms. "Rescue vessels, enemy ranged support is down. Clear to move in and evacuate."

Tiland turned and slid down the edge of the car to the door. He pressed against the edge of the door and studied the locks. His hand clenched into a fist as the Force flowed into his body and the fist hurtled forward into the control panel, crashing into the electronics and forcing the door open. Tiland swung inside, inspecting the readouts, before yanking the control panel open and ripping out the wires.

Doors slid open as the power in the train-car flickered off, before emergency power flickered on. He strode down the cramped corridor, helping out the Jedi who could walk and marking the ones who couldn't on the door with a small beacon for the rescue parties.

With each one, he stepped inside, and administered a revitalizing concoction, to help give them a boost to make it to safety. There was still an enemy fleet to consider, but it was beyond his control. The Force would will it the way it willed.

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

Location: The Train
Equipment: Jedi Padawan robes, Lightsaber, Hololink, Utility Belt
Nearby: [member="Asaraa Vaashe"]
Objective: Prison break

(Post Soundtrack: Safe and Sound by Madilyn Bailey)​

Jerek landed just in time to hear that Asaraa's joke didn't.

Glancing around, the reason why was clear. The sides of the narrow train car were lined with cells. Tiny, claustrophobic things, each with an occupant inside wearing some kind of collar. Reaching out with the Force, Jerek was surprised he couldn't feel much from the prisoners, most of the Jedi he knew could be sensed through the Force. Maybe these weren't really Jedi. In any case, they were prisoners within the Sith Empire, anything they had done to deserve it was surely worthy of release by the Jedi.

The padawan leaned over to the older knight by his side, remarking, "Tough crowd. Maybe their sense of humor is a bit cagey." He flashed a grin at the pink-haired Jedi, and then tossed his own long-haired head down to one end of the car. "Let's see if we can do something about that. I'll start down there."

As he passed the occupants of the cells, Jerek tried to offer some semblance of hope or assurance. Most of the prisoners didn't even seem to notice him. One, an older man, held his gaze straight ahead, staring off into some distance behind the teen. Jerek stopped, his head weaving a little as he tried to get a different angle on the man's face, to pull his attention in some manner. The wizened prisoner gave him no response, his eyes still unfocused. It didn't look like the man was meditating, either, his eyes were glassy not simply in disuse.

"Asaraa?" Jerek called back to the knight, concern lacing his voice. This mission might have just gotten a lot harder. "I think they're drugged."

"Not all of us." The padawan turned toward the sound, a soft voice coming from a cage several paces away. When he got there, he could see the occupant inside was much smaller than most of them he had passed. A child? The Zabrak girl looked up at him, the first one to do so. She was right, he could see, she wasn't drugged. Nor was she as young as he'd first thought, maybe only a few years younger than Jerek, her horns were still small as they peeked through the dark black strands of her hairline. "Are you Jedi?"

"Yeah, I'm a Jedi Padawan. My name is Jerek, and the one down there is Asaraa. She's a knight." He looked over the outside of the cell, trying to figure out how they were going to release the prisoners. The locks on the doors looked complicated, and Jerek didn't have a key. The girl's meek voice drew his gaze again, breaking him out of thought.

"I'm Kasari. That's Sistry, Byrec and I'go. We're all padawans." She said, pointing to cells near her in turn, causing Jerek to look at the occupants, who were of similar age as Kasari and Jerek. Jedi Padawans inside the Sith Empire? How could anyone have allowed this to go on? He turned back to her. "And my master, Qardin, is down there somewhere. I saw him come in, but he was—," she stopped, her head dropping, and Jerek could almost see the holes bored into the floor where it met her eyes. He crouched to get below her seated level, moving his head until he caught her downward gaze in his hazel eyes.

"Kasari, we're going to get you out. You, your friends, your master, we're getting you off this train and out of the Empire." Somehow, the boy thought. "You're going to be fine, all of you. Even your master."

Jerek wasn't sure if he had gotten through to her, Kasari still held her head downcast. To that extent, he wasn't sure if that speech could have even gotten through to him in her place. Words were all well and good, but as he stood and considered the cage doors again, the padawan found himself at a loss for actions. How were they supposed to get these karking things open?

He drew out a tool from the pouch around his waist, and held it in front of the lock. He was no mechanic or locksmith, and the Jedi youth didn't have the slightest clue how to defeat a lock like this. He fumbled with it, running his hands over the mechanism, feeling for a screw or bolt he could use to get at its innards. He considered reaching for his lightsaber, but given the disposition of Kasari and her fellow Jedi, the padawan figured that wasn't the best way to proceed.

"Any luck on your end?"