Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Campaign Operation: Dark Vergence - FIRE RISING (Sith vs. Silver Jedi)


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Onderon.

A world of contrasting beauty and ferocious wilderness. Though the world had fallen into tranquil obscurity in the recent decade, it had once served multiple groups in the galaxy as a battlefield and refuge. The Galactic Republic and One Sith fought over the world during the Republic-Sith War, with the One Sith occupying the world for many years before abandoning it. After Mandalore was ravaged by the actions of Mia Monroe, the Mandalorian Vilaz Munin led his people to Onderon for their own survival. Since that time, peace has descended over Onderon and the world was given the opportunity to rebuild under the protection of the Silver Jedi Concord.

That all changed when a fleet of ragged Mandalorian craft appeared over Onderon, opening fire on the local defense forces orbiting the planet. Unprepared and waylaid by the brutality of the attack, there was little to stop a swarm of transports from breaching the atmosphere and depositing an entire Sith-aligned Mandalorian army on the soil of Onderon. Iziz was assailed, thick plumes of acrid smoke rising up to blanket the once idyllic blue sky with corruptive darkness. The Mandalorian leading the assault, Akaan’alor Ordo, was exceptionally ferocious as he commanded his loyal zealous warriors into further acts of butchery and violence.

As the chaos of the attack continued to spill out across the planet, frantic messages were dispatched with haste to any neighboring systems and outposts that just so happened to be listening. Strangely, no effort was made to disrupt any communications leaving the planet’s surface, a typical strategy employed by roaming marauders and professional armies alike when assaulting an enemy world.

There would be nothing to prevent the arrival of a relief force in the Japrael system, the ships which bore the Mandalorian army to Onderon’s surface peeling away in all different directions but staying within the visual range of the planet at the very edges of the periphery. Token resistance was offered to the Silver Jedi forces as they made landfall, but as the fighting wore on the Mandalorians methodically ceded less and less ground while taking more drastic and extreme measures against the Jedi.

And the Dark Side shrouded all.


 
The twin Kandosii-type dreadnoughts dropped out of hyperspace with no fan fare. There was no grand proclamation of intent or melodious speeches blasted over communication channels. They were simply there, suspended upon nothing, in the black. Flashes of light marked the arrival of more ships, all decades old now, crewed by beings that by they're nature cared more for utiliy than aesthetics. They ran silent, and dark as they formed into twin spears. There was no mystery in the approach. Anyone old enough to remember the ships knew what they were for. This was no cargo convoy. They weren't on a mercy mission. They were not here to garner approval or bear gifts for the galactic masses. These ships, the same hulls that conquered Adumar, Contruum, Ord Mantell and Bastion, meant only one thing...They meant War.

Clad in the same Iron from which they had built his bones when they called his spirit back from the netherworld, the man stood on the deck of The dreadnought Indomitable. His face an iron mask with a T-shaped visor for its eyes. His armored arms and hands crossed over his hulking chest as if simply unimpressed by the world that hung in the distance. He was motionless among the activities of running a ship, like a statue built to remind them of another more violent time in their past. A time he would see them return to. A time of glory and honor.

Readouts and information scrolled across his vision inside the HUD of his Buy'ce, but he knew this world well enough. He had hunted its moon so many times it had been like a second home once. Onderon, however, had no such fond memories. As a people they had only ever been less than. They were a footnote in the histories of other people's greatness. He would do to this world what his ancestors had done to Cathar. Cleanse it.

"All is ready, Warmaster." The Ship's Commander said breaking the Mandalorian Warmachine from his thoughts, "All ships have reported in battle ready. Drop pods and boarding torpedoes are ready."

"Good." The man said through the vocabulator in his helmet, "Patch me into all ships. I have words for the Vode."

"Aye, Warmaster." The woman replied before motioning to the comm station.

A moment passed as the ships all moved as one toward the world of Onderon.

"You're through, Warmaster." The Commander said.

"Vode an, we draw close to glory and a return to the way. Show no quarter. Foundlings are your responsibility and yours only. Kill everything else." The big man said before he motioned for the channel to be closed. "Go to Ex formations. Overlapping fields of fire. Arm the tungsten warheads. We'll soften the drop zone for an extended campaign. I want to watch their hope die."

"Oya, Warmaster." The Commander said before she moved to carry out the orders.

"Odium?" The man said to the figure that loomed in black to his left and slightly behind.

"Yes, Master." The figure said.

"Prepare my Basilisk and stay here." Ordo said calmly, "You'll come in the second wave."

"Yes, Master." The figure said before leaving for the hanger.

There would be blood this day. There would be no rules, only War.
--‐-----------------------

The old weathered ships opened fire on the orbital defense first. Blazing turbo laser fire crossed space in super heated waves before mass drivers pumped the solid tungsten rounds toward the world.

Drop ships and pods scorched paths toward the world with Ordo in his repaired war droid at their head.
 
Under normal circumstances, the idea of Lirka fighting alongside Mandalorians would be a laughable concept: and one that would fill the Sephi with complete and utter disgust, though in truth the latter still held true. But times changed, and the opportunity to massacre Jedi was one she would never pass up. Even if there was some distant disgruntlement that they had not finally launched an invasion of Thustra and Myrkr, crushing the Mandalorian menace and finally honoring the deal that had ensured the "obedience" of Lirka.

But the blood of Onderon would suffice for now.

While in their usual crude fashion the Mandalorians surged forward like half-witted animals, a single lone Freighter moved down to Onderon' surface; Lirka worked under the assumption she likely wasn't supposed to be there but no one would actually stop her from collecting a fine tally of kills among the population: the best kind of technicalities.

The freighter landed with a thud, the dark resplendence of Lirka stepping forth from it's hissing landing door, last time she had set foot on the soil of the Jedi she had been a barely contained monster of bulging muscle and failing organs: she was no such thing now. Where once there had been an unrestrained monster, now there was a callous predator where the beast had once stood. Lirka moved like a blur, heavy footfalls in the earth as her enhanced senses tracked the sounds of landing pods and distant battle.

Give everyone a nice and dramatic surprise when the sprinting mass of jagged dark metal decided to hack however many defenders into burning ribbons.
 

Finley Dawson

Guest
F
En route, planning to engage Lirka Ka Lirka Ka

Onderon was under siege.

This time the handiwork of Mandalorians. Which bunch exactly, he honestly couldn't say, their internal politics were Byzantine to the junior Knight. With their usual tactical prowess they had quickly cut through local defenses with time honored blitz tactics. They were already well on their way to establishing a foothold in the system even as initial waves of reinforcements were still being rallied across Silver Space.

Eventually, the reinforcements would arrive though, and that's when the real bloody battle would begin.

Finley answered the call, but his light freighter was just a wee bit too small to fit him, Krost, and the Nightstalkers, so they all hitched a ride with a larger troop transport shipping out of Kashyyyk. Down in the passenger bay, Finley reclined against an inset bench while nursing a rifle against his shoulder, head slightly drooping. He could have been easily mistaken for sleeping, but he was meditating, steeling himself for the coming battle.

<Ugh, this bloke is driving me crazy.> Krost growled. <If he doesn't sit down, I'm going to stuff him in a footlocker.>

Normally the wookiee would have given him peace during this time, so he must have been pretty annoyed to say something. Sighing, Finley opened his eyes to find a young Rodian Jedi pacing back and forth through the aisles, fidgeting with his armor. Unconsciously, he radiated with nervous energy, which Finley could feel beginning to affect the Rangers in the vicinity, who were already on edge.

"Hey kid," he called out as he straightened up on the bench, waving him over.

The Rodian tensed for a moment, letting his hand fall limply to his side as he shuffled toward Finley.

"Got a name?"

"Uh, Pegn, sir. Pegn Honcirs."

"Nice," Finley said, offering a gloved hand to shake. "Finley Dawson."

The Rodian grabbed his hand with surprising force, quite literally shaking with excitement as someone showed him a bit of friendliness.

"First time in battle?"

"Ahahaha...no not exactly. I mean I'm a Knight and I do field work! I just...never faced off against a full Mandalorian force before. Actually, I've never encountered a Mandalorian at all. They're supposed to be tough...real Jedi Killers."

"Welp, that makes two of us. I've scrapped with Mandalorians before in the Outer Rim, but I've never had the 'pleasure' of standing opposite of a whole army of 'em in an invasion. However, don't believe all the stories. Not all of them are Boba Fett - they bleed the same as me and you, but those Beskar shells do take some effort to crack."

<Nothing a good bowcaster can't handle.> Krost grunted. <I'll send them running back to their flying cans.>

A direct hit from an energized depleted baradium quarrel would put a damper on anyone's day.

"True that," he agreed with a chuckle. "Hey, if you're not already attached to another strike team, you can hang with us."

"Ah no I don't! Sure! I mean...yeah that's cool if it's cool with you."

The Corellian smirked and reached up to pat Pegn's pauldron.

"I was actually just in the middle of meditation, why don't you join me?"

"That sounds good. Yes."

He dropped to his knees, gingerly setting his rifle to his side, then rested his palms on his thighs. Pegn mirrored his movements, and soon they were both deep in concentration. Finley worked on quieting past guilt and future anxieties to fully focus his mind wholly on the present. Despite the Jedi Code being practically seared into his mind at this point, he was still very much terrified by the prospect of death, but the aloof Corellian just did a better job at hiding it than his Rodian counterpart.

Trust in the Force...Trust in the Force...Trust in the Force...

He repeated this mantra Ad nauseam, hoping to make it stick.

K Kaine Australis
 
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Tarish Galland

Guest
T
Tag: Amani Serys Amani Serys
Location: Moving to Intercept
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He had come quickly to the planet in his Nova dive. Closing on the outskirts of the city under siege before something caught his attention in the force. A familiar presence that had been under his care during the Yurb incident. One he had not seen for some time. He had wondered about how she was doing, and it seemed he would at least be able to track her down during this incident as well.

Was she hiding because she felt ashamed for all that had happened on Yurb? Running from responsibility? Perhaps the horrors of war had shifted her perspective and she had taken time to examine those things important to her. Or perhaps the rumors of her defecting to the sith were true, and she was here for a different reason.

He had faith that she was not truly sith. She couldn't be. She wished for too much good will, and had too bright a hope for others to have tossed that to the wayside. So why then? He would find out, that was for certain.

Her presence drew him towards and abandoned building, his strength over matching the door that was blocking access to the large building. He was on the ground level, but the grinding of the gears as they moved against the accumulated rust and gunk rang through the building as he silently cursed to himself.

If it were his sister, she would have thought of something better certainly. His lightsaber bounced on his hip as his clothes brushed against the door, threatening to close on him as he slipped inside and opened his senses.
 
With: Tarish Galland
Location: Abandoned power station

Amani had certainly not expected to be back in Concord space any time soon. Here she thought she had fully committed to her mission to getting back Elise on her own terms, yet as soon as the call came through about an attack on Onderon, the rogue Jedi wasted no time flying in.

Old habits die hard, she supposed.

Amani stuck to the outskirts of where the center of the action was taking place, using the chance to get an outsider view of the battle. There was more here than meets the eye, she could sense it in the air. It drew her closer. But what that meant, she couldn’t say. And it wasn’t the only thing she sensed.

No.

Not here. And not now. Amani was afraid of what her fellow Jedi would think of her crusade. She only admitted it to Kyra Perl Kyra Perl . And given how her unexpected encounter with Centin Tillo Centin Tillo and Risen Risen had gone on Tython, her reputation would no doubt be brought into question by those privy to that information. She’d hoped none of them would find her here today.

She was particularly afraid of what he would think. Tarish had shown nothing but care and understanding for her since the events that transpired at Yurb. Was she throwing it all away? She didn’t want to find out. Amani had tried to hide herself, and her Force signature, but he had already stepped inside. The Mirialan tucked herself behind a dusty old console, waiting in silence to see if he would pass. It was too late. He was going to find her. The least she could do was face him directly.

“...Tarish?” Amani cautiously stepped out from her hiding place, the nervousness and conflict all too obvious in her shaky voice.
 
Remembering Wildflowers
A breath of calm.

Not an hour before, Risen had fallen from a dropship to assist an outpost of Onderon’s local defense. Sky above — he hated the way they formed around him as he landed, the way they assumed the presence of a Jedi meant victory. False hope. No replacement for training.

They won despite that. It was a short clash over a piece of defensible terrain, a dry patch in low standing water. The enemy backed off before the battle could reach its height. Victory, for now.

Risen didn’t have a mind for tactics — that was for commanders and their lieutenants. Still, the way the enemy chose their battles, their inscrutable advances and retreats… Instinct screamed that something darker was coming.

Scouts were watching the perimeter. Risen stepped away from the outpost, cursing the eyes that watched him go and demanded an explanation. Skittish soldiers offered to accompany him. He declined. Annoyance bubbled in his chest, but he forced it down. Not their fault, he thought. This is more than any of them signed up for.

Now, he stood on a grassy bluff overlooking the area. He saw the outpost, the fields, the battles dotting them. Onderon burned.

And the worst was yet to come.

Ordo Ordo
 

Tarish Galland

Guest
T
Tag: Amani Serys Amani Serys
Location: Abandoned Power Station

He stood silently as the door closed and as the familiar presence inside moved about in equal measures of attempted silence. Which altogether was pointless for either since they could easily sense one another. He was not trained to hide himself, and she had dedicated her life to healing others.

The quiet earned him a call of his name however, and he spared a glance around before replying.

"Amani." The word held the joy of shared laughter and the dread of missing someone. He moved quickly, trying to remember where the sound had come from, ignoring the keen senses he had trained for years in light of the concern and worry that took over his usual light hearted attitude. She was here. It hadn't just been a fluke or misguidance. "Amani!"

He cleared the entry hallway with one force filled bound and turned to listen again before heading in her direction.

"Can-No. Will you talk with me, please?" He called to her, forcing himself to calm down before opening his senses once more. He turned, heading to the control room and passed through the doorway to find her standing inside beside a console.

"Hey. How-how have you been?"
he sighed, plainly unsure about stepping closer even with the joy filled worry that was plain upon his face. He wanted to talk, wanted to bring her back. Was happy to see her but sad to know she would leave again. Would be gone without a trace. He had to try, to understand at least and have reassurance for the why.
 
It had seemed that Lirka's "hidden" arrival had left the Moff trekking through the wilds of Onderon rather than immediately engaging in the delicious murders that would be done in abundance, unfortunately, it seemed she'd just have to wait for the fun stuff: small prey would have to suffice. With thermal vision lighting up the wilds as she thundered through, crushing both root and branch alike under heavy metal footfalls. Ha. Had seemed she had been frightening most of the creatures of this meaningless and worthless rock away.

Unfortunately for some, hunting these creatures could make for quite the job. Five figures appeared on Lirka's thermal, and the Sephi had an unnatural long tongue out of her mouth from inside the helmet, licking crimson lips the color of fresh blood. The little things just needed to be appreciated sometimes, she moved through the wilds like a phantom, in stark contrast to the sauntering disregard from before. They knew something was here, spooking the animals.

Two glowing eyes from within the darkness of the trees.

Two emerald suns that would herald death and carnage.

They lasted a few minutes at best, nothing more than a chance for Lirka to show off to the imaginary crowd watching each of her bloody murders. At first, she had dashed out like a blur of dark armored and jagged edges, her blade slashing two of them through the chest: burning rents buried within their pathetic excuse for "armor", they died instantly.

She could see it all, that minute playing on repeat in her mind: filling her with euphoria, her blades clicked together into one once more, the third had tried to run: and with a leap and a slash, she had bisected him at the waist. The fourth had raised his weapon to shoot, he never even got a shot off before Lirka flung a loose stone from the ground as if it were but a pebble, landing square against his forehead and leaving him bleeding on the ground, the monstrous sephi had to fight all her carnal urges not to simply drink that nectar.

Leaving only the fifth, now on his knees with Lirka's clawed gauntlet wrapped around his throat: she hadn't gotten to truly see much of her previous murders, but this hunter had been little more than a human man, brown hair, and a rugged beard. Weak. No right to pollute the galaxy with his prescence.

"And so, the Hunter is reduced to prey, and I find the solace in knowing a slave of the Jedi dies today: Dark claim you, weakling."

And with that send off, a sickly crunch sounded throughout the wilderness, the sounds of war growing ever closer to Lirka's ears. Yes, a fine interlude before the real dance could begin.
 


"Now hear this! Now hear this!" The gravelly voice of the Deliverer's executive officer rang out over the ship's intercom. "We've received a distress signal from Onderon. The planet appears to be under attack by, as yet, unidentified forces. We have altered course to respond. Paladin Company, report to drop pod loading stations. Drop in thirty."

Beltran sat in a small briefing room, looking over at Colonel Constance Hague, newly promoted commander of the Free Danutan Volunteer regiment, raising an eyebrow. Paladin Company was a newly raised unit of the Antarian Rangers, formed from surviving veterans of the Battle at Yurb and a dozen other operations.

Beltran had been ear-marked to take command of one of the platoons of this unit for an extended training mission on nearby Hapes. The extended deployment would be his first since he'd fought at Yurb and was meant to be a kind of test to see if he had gotten past the loss of his former unit, Icarus Platoon. Colonel Hague was here, commanding a pair of companies from her regiment undergoing a similar training mission.

"Well if that isn't perfect," She said, taking a long puff on her half-burned ciggaro and filling the room with smoke. "Paladin is dropping in thirty with no commander."

Captain Ashara Vance, a Hapan officer of some repute had been ear-marked to take command of Paladin Company. She was on Hapes currently, waiting to meet up with the unit at the training facility.

"What about Lieutenant Mrwarr?" Beltran suggested evenly, speaking of Paladin's second platoon leader, a Togorian male. "He's capable."

"Yes, but he's only just graduated Ranger OTS. We need someone with a least some battlefield command experience. We need you."

Beltran studied the older woman for a moment before nodding. He wasn't the type to hide behind false modesty and the truth was, Beltran knew he could do the job. "Alright, I'll take command then."

Punching a few keys into her datapad, Colonel Hague nodded. "Good. I'm giving you a brevet promotion to Captain for the duration of this operation. Congratulations, Captain."

"Thank you ma'am."

***

A few minutes later, Beltran would stride out onto the deck of the drop-pod loading area. Dozens of Rangers hustled about, moving supplies and hastily donning their armor. It felt strange to be among these soldiers once more, without the benefit of Sergeant Lota, Corporal Doss or Reece at his back. Lota had died on Yurb, that was now confirmed. Doss had lost his legs and had a long road yet to go before he could consider returning to duty. And Reece...well Reece had left after that business with the slave-trading Duros Senator. Beltran understood the man's decision, even if it left him feeling a little hollow today. He would have really benefited from seeing a familiar face today.

And then he did.

"Private Basai!" Beltran called out, picking the brown haired woman out of the crowd. "Front and center!" Inara Basai Inara Basai was a medic who'd been on Beltran's last mission. She'd acquitted herself well and impressed Beltran with her skills. He waited until she joined him and then spoke. "Looks like I'll be commanding the Company for this mission and I need someone I can trust to watch my back. So I'm transferring you to first squad, first platoon."
 
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Interacting with: (Eventually) Kaalia Pavanos Kaalia Pavanos
Location: Space heading to surface
Equipment: Saber Pike, Advanced N-Wing, Durasteel armour

Kat was departing another successful gambling adventure with a side of bounty hunting this time around, she entered her advanced N-Wing, sighing since she was feeling a little bored. The bounty hunt was fairly simple and the gambling was basic, there had been no real stakes on the table and she didn't win much in terms of credits. Leaving the planet's atmosphere, she noticed a distress signal sent via SJC channels, curious if it was something was serious enough to get involved or if it was something perhaps more minor. When she tuned into the signal better, Kat heard that there was an attack on Onderon, which wasn't too far from where she was. Setting the navicomputer to Onderon, Kat pondered on who would attack Onderon, she figured that the Mandalorians were peaceful with SJC currently, however short lived that might be, she didn't think there would be anyone else interested in the world. But she knew deep down that she couldn't count the Sith out from attacking a Jedi world, especially one where Mandalorians who were no Sith allies lived.

Hitting the ship into hyperdrive, Kat checked her basic armour, it was made of Durasteel and was a reminder that she really needed to sort out her own armour, perhaps using some of the stuff that she had been working on. Kat dropped out of hyperspace and instantly grabbed the controls of her ship, the attack was not a small attack, which surprised her since she could tell that this level of attack with this type of tech, they could easily block transmissions leaving the world. Kat sent a warning of a suspected trap to any SJC members who were going to arrive to the fight since it clearly looked like a trap to Kat. Weaving her speedy ship through the invading forces, avoiding as much damage as she could as she headed to the surface, it was clear that the Sith and their Mandalorian puppets were clearly not stopping reinforcement heading to the surface. Another thing to be cautious about. This attack was odd.

Setting it to an auto-landing sequence away from where Kat was going to jump out of the ship, Kat leapt to the surface and ignited her saber pike. Her first priority was finding civilians and getting them somewhere safe.
 
Onderon, in orbit
(Soon to be) Interacting with Kat Decoria Kat Decoria
Equipment:
Armor, lightsabers

Darth Avacyn, after she had stepped down as Dark Councilor, had as good as vanished from both the public eye and the battlefield. She had done her part, fought for the empire on countless battlefields, but her time there was over. She had four children to raise and the Valkyries to lead, which kept her too occupied to kept her other efforts going. The change saw Avacyn shift from a warrior to a mentor, a woman wise beyond her years passing on her knowledge to those she saw potential in.

It didn't mean she didn't continue expanding her own knowledge and power, however. Even know she deepened her connection to the Netherworld, slowly but surely unlocking its secrets and harnessing it in new ways. Retaining her power was the only way to ensure she could prevent harm from reaching her family. Still, as long as it didn't come to her doorstep, she saw no reason to be on any more battlefields.

Today, however, Darth Avacyn had made an exception. She still had unfinished business.

During the Sith Empire's attack on Mandalore, a Mandalorian ship turned the starfighter of Ishana Pavanos, her wife, into her coffin, aimlessly floating in space. The severing of their bond caused an unimaginable pain that was unceasing and unrelenting. In her wicked rage she exacted her revenge, bringing about the end of countless Mandalorian souls. And even though she brought Ishana back from the dead, and despite her exacted vengeance, it was not enough. Her hatred remained, and now that the Sith were descending on Onderon, Avacyn knew what had to be done.

Onderon needed to burn.

And so Darth Avacyn waited, a fire burning in her soul. Soon she'd be on the world's surface, and her flames would cleanse wherever she would set foot.
 

Darth Zveris

S H A T T E R E D



E T E R N A L

"But my faithful, today is not a day of congregation. Today is a day of reverence, of honor and of ascension!" The Lord Archbishop of the Archdiocese rose both his hands to equal height,at which point the crowd gathered within the massive stadium erupted into applause.
The elder man stood within the stadiums main viewing tower, which itself was situated within the left of the building. Directly behind him, concealed within a impossibly large shadow were three massive metallic thrones. At the center of the three was the largest, upon which sat the High Executor of the Sith Eternal.
The Sith's scarred hands were the only thing visible from the shadow, seated on the armrests of the primary throne. Alongside him sat his most trusted Lieutenants, both of whom remained silent as the Lord Archbishop contuined his sermon.
"Several thousand years ago, lost to time, abandoned and forgotten our ancestors found this world. They found that oath to true power and they found a way to truly achieve galactic peace. But they were isolated. And thier Holy Word was sadly thiers alone. But...together with the ancient Sith, we began building a mighty army and armada in preparation for the day that the galaxy would know true peace! And now-"
"And now, we wait longer. For generations we have hid, built, preached, and labored. For generations we were forced to sit idly by as Sith Empire after Sith Empire were ripped to shreds by the Jedi and thier precious Republic. But now, is not the time to launch our forces. Not the time to reveal ourselves. Now is the time for the Path of the Chosen. Now is the time for our young Conquerers to prove themselves...in battle. We shall Onderon. There, you will price your worthiness. Together, we shall burn Onderon to it's core!"

 
Location: Onboard Chariot-Class Transport Frigate "Deliverer", hyperspace
Objective: Land troops on Onderon to support the defense of the planet
Allies: Beltran Rarr Beltran Rarr , all other SJC and allied personnel
Enemies: The Sith and allied personnel
[Load-out coming in next post]

Inara's eyes widened when the call blared for Paladin Company to report to drop pods.

She stood to the side of the corridor as men and women sped past, armor half-on and helmets cradled in the crook of their arms. The young private watched them with a sense of awe, they were inspiring figures; brave and battle-hardened heros.

She was not.

Though she was not part of their company, Inara didn't hesitate to help. Quickly following after them, helping to hold weapons or helmets while they dressed in armor. Then, assisting with supplies prepped for them to bring down to the planet – to the battle. Focused, she jolted slightly at the sound of her name being called.

Craning her neck to see, Inara spotted the imposing form of Lieutenant Beltran Rarr Beltran Rarr .

And while time seemed to stop for her, the hectic frenzy of battle prep continued all around her. She scrambled, and then straightened as she appeared before the officer – her eyes acknowledged him before falling to his boots as he spoke. However, she glanced up again – taken aback – when he informed her that she was being transferred to first squad, first platoon.

“Yes, sir,” she said quickly. “T-thank you, sir.”

She stood before him, a bundle of nerves and anxious energy. And so, Inara frantically joined the other rangers. Today, she would leave her standard medic ensemble behind in favor of proper armor. Her hand rose to touch the tags hanging around her neck, and she thought of Mathieu Brion Mathieu Brion . Now, she was feeling especially thankful that she'd given him one of her tags to wear – just in case anything ever happened to her. It would be her first mission without her Jedi friend, she hoped to make him proud nonetheless.

Her eyes flickered back towards Beltran as she finished gathering up her things and slinging her medic backpack over her shoulder. She'd stay close, following his example as best she could. She'd seen him fight, she knew what he was capable of – but... she wasn't quite so sure about her own abilities.
 
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Tag: Tarish Galland
Location: Abandoned power station

It didn’t take much for Amani to break. Since her little stunt on Tython, the padawan was so sure that her next encounter with a Jedi would be nothing short of hostile. How much did he know? How much did anyone know? Or think they knew?

It didn’t matter to her right now. When she saw nothing but genuine concern in his eyes, the girl took a few cautious steps forward, before gaining speed and practically charging into an embrace. “I’m okay…” was all Amani offered. If it wasn’t obvious in her voice, the exhaustion she felt was clear on her face. Amani looked as though she hadn’t slept in days. She pulled away and looked up at him with bleary and baggy eyes, “Are you? What are you doing here?” Amani was not much one to talk, but she’d hoped she could keep the conversation off of herself for at least a while longer.
 
Gear: Paranoia (Armor), Regret (Sword), Suspicion (Lightsaber), Auger Personal Shield
Location: The forests of Onderon
Tags: Mi'la Undari + Open

While Lirka Ka Lirka Ka engaged in a bloody slaughter amid the dense forests of Onderon, elsewhere in those same woods Messala hunkered down in the undergrowth, his red armor standing out like spilled blood amid the greens and browns of the foliage. He was within earshot and could hear the screams and gurgles of the dying as they fell at the Sephi's hand.

The Half-Bothan looked around, his helmet partially obscuring his periphery vision. His fellow Sith might have come to this world for some dark purpose yet unnamed, but not Messala. No, he was here on a mission of his own.

Onderon's jungle moon of Dxun was the usual hotspot for treasure hunters and those seeking to be inducted into the ancient Dark, but Onderon itself had just as thick a history with the Sith. The planet's rulers had once been cultists of the Dark Side. But that was long ago, very long ago. There might not be anything left to seize or study.

Messala crept forward, still crouching low, his hooves crunching fallen leaves and twigs though he tried his best not to make too much noise. If worse came to worst, he could always blend in. Join his fellow Sith in shedding blood, though he was loath to waste time on such pointless endeavors. Unsheathing his sword, he used it like a machete, slicing through a particularly obstructive thicket in his way, then proceeded forward at a faster, more even pace, heading toward civilization.
 

Tarish Galland

Guest
T
Tag: Amani Serys Amani Serys
Location: Abandoned Power Station

He caught sight of her, and she charged in for a hug. One he returned with a strength that never wanted to let go. When she pulled away though, he did not fight her. Instead he tried to look her over as best he could, still wondering what had brought her here. Her question seemed to be ignored for q moment as his eyes held hers for a long moment.

He was accustomed to seeing tired eyes. Normally though, they were staring back at him in the mirror than on a student. He wanted to snatch her up, take her back to Silver Rest, but he had to know why before he did so.

"The planet is under attack. Came here to help, but...well." He nodded to her. "I may have followed my senses here instead of there. Lots of help pouring in. Lots of capable help that doesn't need my help."

Her other question had him giving a weak smile. He was still not entirely over Yurb physically. Some parts of his muscles still held a deep ache that never seemed to work themselves out in the random day to day movements he did. Finding himself scrambling to stem a charlie horse or stretching fingers that felt tight or stiff more often. "I feel old, but good. You?"

There was a fairly hard lean in his voice, one suggesting he noticed she was tired, but giving her the chance to explain rather than jump to conclusions. He kept shifting slightly, not awkward but always trying to draw closer, trying to keep himself close if she permitted. He had been charged with taking care of her once. He was still trying to do so now.
 

Mi'la Undari

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M
Equipment:
Adar-Class Combat Flight Suit
Lightsabers x 2
Tech Ranger's Field Pistol
Tags: Salamander Salamander

Stupid Stupid Stupid! What was she thinking flying into that formation? She could have totally blown a stabilizer on the Jabberwocky with that maneuver. As the battle on Onderon raged on, here was Mi'la having to make an emergency landing in the woods and jury rig her fighter into starting again. Ever since she had lost the force, her piloting skills had taken a nose dive; probably because she wasn't used to using the instruments to figure out what was going on. It was frustrating for sure. One moment she was flying like an ace fresh out of the academy, now she was struggling to pull of maneuvers that a rookie cadet could pick up on day one. She really had lost her edge.

Sitting in the cockpit, she was fiddling with the panel controls, trying to preform a system diagnostic and figure out just what was going wrong with her craft; unfortunately, it wasn't wanting to be compliant with her request. After several moments of this, she climbed out and turned on her Omni-Tool, and began to do the scan herself. Still clad in her flight suit and helmet, she could only wonder at what in the hell was going wrong, and soon found out why. A bit of debris had damaged the rear fuselage, and seemed to have fried the ignition for her engine. Finding the problem was beyond her ability to fix, Mi'la let out a quiet sigh, before moving to get her transmission beacon out of storage. She had two options at this point. Walk back into the city through dangerous terrain, or wait for this attack to end and put in the call for help. Well, given the situation, she settled with option two, and would begin to set up the beacon, not knowing the danger that was approaching her. She wasn't unarmed of course, her sabers hung at her hips, and her blaster was in it's holster, but even Mi'la had to agree that her combat skills weren't up to par as they had been in the past. Still, ignorance was bliss, and as the Twi'lek grumbled as she set her beacon up, she could only think of how her comrades were holding out without her being there.
 
Tag: Tarish Galland
Location: Abandoned power station

Amani nodded slowly. Duh. The attack. “R-right. That’s... why I’m here, too.” She let herself gradually lean back into his arms, longing for reassurance. Though their time together had been relatively short, Tarish made it easy for her to feel safe. He was a fatherly presence that she had not experienced in years, which made it all the more difficult to know she was going to need to let go. It was a lot easier to leave when she didn’t have to look the people she cared about in the eyes. Her heart to heart with Kyra alone was nearly enough to make Amani give up her quest.

“That’s good…” she took a long pause and sighed, closing her eyes “...I’m so tired, Tarish.” Amani’s voice was strained and dreary, she seemed as if she could fall asleep right there at any moment. The padawan had been spending day in and day out searching for any kind of clue or hint as to the Grandmaster’s whereabouts. She had been exceptionally unsuccessful thus far. But it was all that was keeping her going.

Her eyes broke open once again, and she clutched onto him tightly. “I-I don’t know what you’ve heard. About me. But…” Her tone raised with nervousness. Surely he would understand. At least that’s what she’d hoped. Amani couldn’t go through with another fight, especially not with him. But she couldn’t let herself be stopped, either.
 

Tarish Galland

Guest
T
Tag: Amani Serys Amani Serys
Location: Abandoned Power Station

She leaned into the embrace, and he patted her shoulder in a pattern as she sank into the hug. She remarked about being tired, and he could certainly connect on feeling tired. He had spent a good deal of time feeling that way after Yurb for doing little more than standing or even sitting up.

"It's okay to be tired. It's okay. You can take a break. Everybody gets tired no matter how strong they seem." He spoke softly, though the sigh he gave held the a heavy weight behind it.

What had he heard? That didn't matter now that she was in front of him. Anyone could say what they wanted. A person could mean the best of will and be seen as the greatest threat by their peers. It came down to the why. And he could ask her directly now. He took a moment to steady himself before answering that particular question.

"What I have heard and been told does not matter compared to what you can tell me, Amani." He spoke in a hushed tone. "What others say and believe are an opinion because they cannot see the why." Another heavy sigh followed as he looked at her.

"But I will listen. I will listen, and do what I can to help you. So please, tell me why." He was honest. There was no hurt or anger in his voice. There was nothing hidden. Even an explination in his eyes would be enough to report back. To assuage some of the feelings others about the situation.
 

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