Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Operation Morning Star [SJO vs. TSE]

Beskar Mines
Allies: TSE
Enemies: SJO [member="Kenth Typho"]

"Billy Jones."

Tone dry, but then-

"Ooooooh of course, I absolutely believe you."

She did no such thing.

Taking one more step forward, head tipping slightly as she studied his face. In the shadows at a distance it had been hard to tell, but closer he was handsome in a too perfect sort of way. Not unlike the pretty boys and girls, perfect smiles, perfect hair, perfect bodies that pranced across the Holonet.

"Holonet sensation. Actor and singer? Yes, yes I can see it," she cooed. "You look just like them. The people on the holonet. Your smile. They smile while they sell you toothpaste. While they sell you clothes. While they sell you the idea of themselves as paragon and something one can aspire to with just the right purchase this week. Smile," she smiled herself then, slow and not entirely pleasant.

"What are you trying to sell me, Billy Jones? Adventure? Hmmm, seems like your supply is low right now."

The grip on him tightened again.

"Or are you here to sing for me? Though if your songs are as plastic as your smile, I doubt I'll be impressed."

She didn't answer his question, instead the grip focusing around his neck.
 
tinker tailor soldier spy
Beskar Mines
Allies: SJO
Enemies: TSE -- [member="Maia Halos"]

Once she came closer Kenth realized something awkward.

This was just a kid.

Sure, he wasn't an old geezer himself, but still. Not exactly the same as beat the chit out of a baby-eating Lord of the Sith. Even then. That was a lot of bitterness for a kid. Which probably shouldn't surprise him. No arms, the choice of words, the way her eyes glared dangerously. The paths that led you to the Sith were varied.

But none of them were of happiness.

A stifled groan as the pressure increased around his throat. He gasped, for air, for the words, for a thought. His leg kicking all futile like. "Choke.... me...."

Eyes locked into hers.

"Harder, lady."

Even for him using 'daddy' would have been a step too much. Greater good, sure? But nooo. The silence that ensued would be hilarious. If not for the female AI voice suddenly pipping up in his head. Hard-sound capacitor fully charged. That grin just got toothy. A squeeze and suddenly every alarm in Maia's pre-cognition would set off at once.

Half a breath later?

Compressed air would punch straight into her.

It was the best tool against forcers. Couldn't see it, can't block it with a lightsaber, he loved it.

The invisible force around him dissipated. He dropped down to his feet, but didn't let up. Immediately letting out another hard-sound blast at the flying shape. Followed up by following her trajectory. This was the only way to fight a Forcer, while being forceless. Take them off their feet. Don't let up, until they were dead.

If you gave them a chance to focus you might as well be dead already.
 
Weaponized Equator
Allies: SJO
Enemies: TSE [member="Jorryn Fordyce"]

Did telling someone to calm down ever have the desired effect? In the history of all of the galaxy, was there a single moment where a conversation went

Calm down.

Oh okay, that sounds reasonable.

Mariel wouldn't have been able to think of one, and she would have challenged anyone else to come up with one either.

"Calm down? Animal?!? I beg your pardon!"

The Songwing flapped harder at that, managing to free one of her wings from the goop, though the feathers were rather bedraggled and she suspected would pick up lint for weeks.

"I would suggest dropping YOU fifty meters covered in glue and see if you can calm down. Well I never."

She shook one of her legs, something she couldn't see was stuck to the bottom. It refused to come off and she shook the leg harder. She was more offended than angry at the moment, and she hadn't really taken the time to get a good look at the human (they all looked the same to her anyway) that was addressing her. Mariel had no idea that she was the reason for her current predicament and just continued to, unfortunately rather comically, try to free herself from the mess. Hoping and flapping about.
 
The Metal

For a moment, even if only for the briefest fraction of a second, Braith was standing with her bare feet in the dirt, her sword clenched tightly in her dominant hand and her violet gaze fixated on the greatest warrior that her follower's rival tribe had to offer her as he lunged towards her with sheer brute force as his strength and a blade as his tool - and then she was back, her right foot shifting back as she bent at the left knee, saber rising high in a single, swift, motion to parry the strike of her enemy's saber, seeing through the feint, but with the nuance of using the man's own strength against him. Rather than foolishly try to halt the strike of her enemy's saber, something she knew would have been expected of for someone of Carnifex's stature and discipline, Braith's bent knee was straightened, pushing her back up as she pushed off with her right leg to add momentum to her blade as it connected with the armored Jedi soldier's, pushing at an angle towards the man's saber so it was pushed off course, in much the same way one might swat away an unwanted hand.

Following through with her defense, she pivoted towards the man and brought her own saber towards him in the same motion, an unseen telekinetic force carried by her crimson blade to disguise the true intent of her strike - to knock the man back through the machinations of what the Jedi and Sith referred to as the force - to be unloaded in his direction the moment her saber was mid-way through its arcing motion, not unlike the form known as Niman but without the signature telegraphed hand gestures typical of a Jedi or Sith. With a simple push of the foot she hadn't rooted to pivot with, Braith propelled herself a step back to widen their gap, easing into the style of combat she most preferred - restless and violent.

[member="Amon Vizsla"]
 
Location: Fortress Frontlines
Objective: Flanking & Escorting
Allies: [member="Tulan Kor"] | [member="Amon Vizsla"] | [member="Rupert Kingswood"] | SJO
Enemies: TSE - Open to opposition!

"Aye, aye," Thirdas replied over comms to the Gunnery Sergeant leading the assault of their section of the formidable fortress. Dorn Company was but one of many after all, and several others had their own obstacles to break through elsewhere on the vast battlefield.

"Squad, on me! We're to flank the enemy and provide a clear route for the sappers! Once it goes boom, we're in business!" One of his teammates handed him his helmet, having collected it during his duel with the Dark Trooper. It had a scar over one of the eyes, but otherwise unscathed. "For the fallen!"

Leaping out of the captured trench and back into enemy fire, one of them popped a smoke grenade to provide cover as they crossed the open field headed for another trench which, if captured, would provide flanking opportunity against the last defenses this side of the fortress. They were heavily entrenched, having saved the best for last so-to-speak, and sending his fireteam in there was nothing short of suicide.

Just as he closed in on the flanking trench, a Sith trooper popped his head up out of the blue. Thirdas leaned back as he slid along the ground, kicking up dirt and gravel into the face of the surprised trooper, finishing with his boot in the guy's face to knock him out. Dropping into the trench, this time around he let his rifle do the talking, emptying rounds into another pair too slow on the trigger. His fellow Rangers joined the fun, dropping on top of the enemy too busy turning their attention towards the lone Sergeant to notice.

"Grenade--!" An explosion put one of his men on his back, and immediately their medic threw himself at the injured. Thirdas responded by sending his battle axe swirling through the air to cleave the grenadier's head in twain. "Secure this trench! Hold your fire against the last remaining trench until the sappers are ready to move up!"

While the others took up defensive positions along the trench, Thirdas rushed to the aid of the fallen Ranger cared for by the team medic. "Sarge... H-how do I look?" He glanced down the man's legs, noting how one was shredded into pieces while the other only hung on by a narrow strip of flesh below the knee. "Looking good, Eren. Looking real good..." He took the jokester's hand in his to offer what reassurance he could. "We need an immediate medevac, or he won't make it."

"Gunny, Heavenshield. We have seized the second trench which lets us see right into the last line of defense. Ready to clear a path for the sappers. Reporting one casualty, requesting immediate medevac!"
 
Location: Concordia - Outside Fortress Imperious
Ally(s): [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]​
Enemy: [member="Darth Prazutis"]​
xwaVi2.png
[SIZE=11pt]Something fate made you work for, striving to get to where you wanted to before it finally gave in to allow you to receive that which you wanted to. But there were other times when it reached out to slap you in the face, as if grabbing you by the hair and wrenching your head around as if to tell you that I’m here, look at me, focus.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Asaraa had always fought against the idea of destiny, of the idea that the force had a plan for them, had a path that it wanted you to travel come hail or storm. She’d fought against the idea since she was a young Padawan, but somedays…somedays it was really really difficult to argue. Today, well it was one of those days.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The young Jedi could feel him approaching, the Dark Sun, that figure from her nightmares. His very presence seemed to make the earth around her cry and groan around them, as if he was deforming and breaking them just by being in his presence. The Dark Sun felt like a storm battering at the girl’s senses, threatening to swamp and overwhelm her, like chains of the dark side flailing and tearing are her. She could feel that ball of darkness she’d trapped within her own mind, the memories of a Sith that strained every day to get out, that she could feel slowly seeping past the best locks she could construct. Only today was different, she could almost hear the memories of th woman who used to inhabit this body begging pleading to run, to revel in the storm and to escape from it. If even she was afraid of what was coming...[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“You know what they saw about the best laid plans of Sullustans and men?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Asaraa reached out to tug at Yuroic’s shoulder, trying to get his attention, to break his speech as she glanced over at the Ranger’s who’d accompanied them. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Something’s coming and you don’t want to be here when it arrives, get up there and remember your mission.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Death was coming, the darkness to tear the world apart, but maybe the ranger’s would be safe. It was the only gift she could offer them as crystal blue eyes met dark-brown orbs for a moment before they slid over towards the door, and the presence she could feel on the other side. The girl’s hand fell as she paced away from her father, grasping her shield a little more tightly as she adjusted her grip on her sword. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Remember, not a scratch on you, or Jairdain’s gonna take it out of my hide, and an Angry Jair's worse than whatever we're about to deal with.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Humour again, that thin mask to cover the petrification, the jubilation and fear that all seemed to surge and dance around her right now.[/SIZE]
 


Location: Weaponized Equator, Concordia
Objective: [member="Mishel Kryze"]
Allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"]


She hit the hold -- and kicked open one of the footlockers. She'd already began reloading her pistol with whatever spare power packs she could find. Pulling her jacket from atop the workbench, she trailed away before turning at the sound of Coren's cloak rippling.​
"You ready?"

Coren Starchaser said:
“She’s waiting.”
"She's waiting?" She repeated, but then a sudden spark of understanding flashed through her, and she was sharing his alarm. She hit the release button on the side to lower the ramp. She trailed it a couple of steps down, enough where she could bend down and catch a quick peek of their surroundings.​

Mishel Kryze said:
The shuttle's door slid open and Mežsrožu found a sweet spot just far enough from an orbital cannon, but close enough a missile silo.Another touch into the Force, another pebble across the water so that they could both sense her, and know that she would be waiting.
"Yup."
A quick pivot allowed her the motion to turn back around, "She's waiting." realizing now what Starchaser was getting at. Well, at least they didn't have to go searching too hard, but even then...​
"Mish!" she screamed from their side. "We came for you jus--you can come back with us to where its safe"
 

Mishel Kryze

Guest
M
Mežsrožu watched and waited as the shuttle that bore her masters came into view. Color had fled from her face and in its place the pallor of corruption, and a sulphuric gaze that no longer dared to hideaway. On Azure, Mishel had won the day [member="Coren Starchaser"] might've thought her well enough but in the time that had passed, [member="Darth Carnifex"] reminded Mishel of her place. She was not a Jedi, neither was she Sith nor Ren. She was but a select tool of the Emperor himself, a child made to see the truth of her being in such a brutal form. Awakened had the curse of Incursion been and under His Imperial influence had she become. Mežsrožu's coal-black hair had replaced the chestnut locks that Mishel once wore and as her former masters approached they would note the change in wardrobe.

She closed her eyes and silenced the thoughts in her mind and listened to her surroundings. The sound of machines firing their automated weapons, ramparts opening only to have their contents shot to pieces. The screams of the dying, the cries of the wounded and it all fell into the Force like the running of water from the cliff's edge down toward the body of water beneath. Mishel drew on from the Force and pooled it around her. She welcomed her masters with a telekinetic blast, "the one you seek resides here no longer." Mežsrožu spoke her voice held the timbre of gravel that had been raked across the fires of hell. If there had ever been a moment in time where Mishel had finally become the True Daughter of Seiger, a Child of Ren - it was now. "I am Mežsrožu, Daughter of Seiger and now Child of the Emperor."

Her lightsaber burned a bright blood orange and carved its way through the air as Mežsrožu readied herself for battle. "You left your dear Mishel to rot in the hands of the Empire." She seethed with venom laced in each word, "to abandon your pupils, such is the way of the Jedi." At the sound of [member="Romi Jade"]'s voice there had been a flicker of hazel-green, Mishel yearned to regain control but Mežsrožu had been in power over her body for too long now. Mežsrožu had been the alter ego Mishel created as a Ren, a personality in which to hide away from the pain and darkness, a personality that had been created to withstand all that either Ren or Sith had to offer. The haze of darkness and the sulfuric gaze returned to full power, "for two years you left her there - two years and she was not but a flicker of thought in your mind."

"Allow me to repay the favor."
 
Location: Sith Imperial Space [Jump away from Concordia]
Objective: Arrive and Establish Battle-Meditation Force Assitance and Guidance
Enemies: None Yet (As Head Up: [member="Romi Jade"] [member="Thirdas Heavenshield"] [member="Mariel Dawnrider"] [member="Coren Starchaser"][member="Auteme Denko-Durren"][member="Tulan Kor"] [member="Vaulkhar"] [member="Amon Vizsla"])

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Sith Imperial Space
Aboard the Soothsayer Heresiarch-Class Battlecruiser

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Materializing from one of the thousands of holo-projector lenses embedded into the floor of the Soothsayer’s Sith Meditation Chamber, the bubbling visage of its commanding officer Karn’raw’dassa. The female Chiss’ form wobble and fluxed as the connection was established. She appeared in a brilliant blue holographic replica, standing up-right, with her hands clasped behind her back and sporting the stoic glare most Chiss wore.

“My Lady, I have received communications from Concordia,” Commander Karn said in a soft and sharp voice. “A contingent of Silver Jedi and unknown insurgents have engaged our forces.”

At first Karn was replied with nothing. The orb-shaped qabbrat before her remained closed. Then slowly, hisses of mechanical gears and the vapours of sith meditation incense spilled from the qabbrat as it opened. Inside, Darth Voyance, the Sith Twi’lek, appeared. She was sat crossed-legged on a black obsidian plinth draped in red silks. Her hands were on her knees cupping them. She opened her eyes slowly, bright golden dark-side jewels beamed at Karn.

“Concordia,” Darth Voyance repeated. “Then we shall intervene, Commander Karn.”

Karn confirmed the order with a curt nod. “Shall I send the Probes?”

Darth Voyance nodded, “Yes Commander. See to it our Imperial Probes reach the confrontation before us and send back the necessary battle-information.”

“Before then I shall prepare the chamber for my Battle-Meditation.”

“Set course for Concordia, Commander.”

Karn fully bowed this time, “As you wish. My lady.”

As Karn faded away, Darth Voyance rose from her perch and stepped from her qabbrat into the chamber. The darkness obscured the chamber receded as all the thousands of holo-projectors turned on at once, illuminating the chamber in a ball of floating ghostly data.

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In front of her, rising from a concealed compartment, a black pillar rose holding a large sith oracle stone. Darth Voyance approached the stone and rested both her black gloved hands on them.

“Mystics,” Darth Voyance hissed.

“Yes, our master,” replied a unison of voices. Voices that belonged to her personal attendants of Voss Mystics – powerful force seers and dark sider channelers, each manning a pillar of Dantari kyber crystals.

“Lend me your powers. I shall peer into this battle,” Darth Voyance commanded.

“As you command,” replied the Mystics. The poured the force energies into the kyber crystals amplifying their channeling to an enormous degree. Then this raw energy was routed to Darth Voyance, who swelled with dark side energy. With all her malice and lust for knowledge she commanded the oracle stone to send her consciousness to Concordia, to have her dark aura wash over the planet.

Meanwhile, from the various pod sites on the battlecruiser, a legion of Viper Probe Droids were shot out inside their X3-13 infiltration hyperspace pods. Launched ahead of the ship’s hyperspace jumps, the pods would reach Concordia’s surface before them and beam back battle data to the Soothsayer for Darth Voyance to use in her brewing Battle Meditation.
 
The Jedi Master was still possibly the largest crusader in the galaxy, but even now, he was working on other pursuits, the galaxy was slowing down in the wars, the Silver Order was helping to route out darkness where they could find it, and that allowed him to work on doing what he could to unite the Jedi. But sometimes, that meant fixing small problems. Empires rose and fell, Orders changed and evolved, but your own team, that group one traveled the galaxy and all of existence with? That was where changes needed to occur. The ground up.

The armory was pretty full for an armory on a light craft, but this was Coren, after all. He found wars, and he fought them. But at the moment, there was a focus in him a focus to find Mishel and see if he could defeat the darkness within her. She was a Ren at one time, and what was she now… The Master was needing to put a stop to her, to defang her darkness in a hope to pull something from the Sith, and return a Jedi to the Light.

He stepped out behind Romi, another he had lost to the darkness before. Looking up, Starchaser listened. Refusing to nod, but accepting the words thrown out, he could feel it in Mishel, it was her truth. He looked at Romi, then at her. “I left someone who I thought was strong enough to hold the darkness back from herself. Someone who was ready.” Apparently he was wrong. He didn’t say the last piece, but it would be obvious. The Jedi reach out into the Force, looking for the light.

[member="Mishel Kryze"]
[member="Romi Jade"]
 
Yuroic looked over to Asaraa then at the Rangers. He nodded his head and gestured them to their positions. "Seems like she is right guys, better stick to the plan and get back home safe." Looking down at Asaraa, he could see the fear on her face and deep within her eyes as she stared forward. He hadn't be at Azure, deciding to stay with his newborn daughter instead. Having to find out that Asaraa was in critical condition and that she was lucky to have survived was not a thing Yuroic ever wanted to hear.


He knew that she would hate his plan but he needed to be insistent on this. Yuroic would never and could never let his daughter put herself in danger when he could deal with the issue. Especially when she was this scared, he needed her to be focused on the moment and he feared that getting too close to this guy would bring back memories of Azure for her. Make things harder for her to focus on the matter.


Gripping his quiver with his arrows and his bow, he handed them over to Asaraa. "Right you take them, you breath, you aim, you shoot. He'll be caught off guard, he can't sense these arrows and he can't use the Force on them. Voidstone means once you hit him then he won't be connected to the Force and we can overwhelm him together with our combat skills at close range.


I need you to be the one to shoot him because I am going to be the distraction. No arguments. This is an order from a Jedi Master to a Jedi Knight." He knew that they both knew this was more an order from a father to his daughter but he hoped she would respect his wishes. "Jairdain knows I can handle myself fine, been fighting Sith Lords since I was a Padawan." A fact, him and couple of Padawans fought an elderly Sith Lord back in his younger years. All he had then was a practice saber and a few skills with his wits.


Now, now he was a Jedi Master with a lot of skills, a lot of training and two very real Lightsabers. Yet, he could see the Sith Lord from here, the man reminded him of Carnifex, emperor of the Sith Empire. A name that struck fear in most Jedi Masters with a lick of common sense. He stared down at the Sith, ready to grip his Lightsaber and ready himself. "Remember our lesson in the Shadowlands, I trust you Asaraa." Turning and looking straight at his daughter. "I trust you with my life and I know you can do this, like I know that I have to be the bait."


[member="Asaraa Vaashe"] [member="Darth Prazutis"]
 
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Location: Breaching Fortress
Objective: Inflitriate, Be Loud, Be Goons
Enemies: SIth Defenders l [member="Darth Voyance"]
Allies: [member="Thirdas Heavenshield"] l [member="Rupert Kingswood"] l @Dem Boyz
Oh yeah. The boys were in it.

The big blonde son of a queen did it, he really did it.

The Sappers poured in, and the Rangers began their brutal assault on the actual fortress itself. Grappling hooks were mounted- and up they went. With Tulan at the front. Scaling the wall with Rupert was exhilarating, a blood rush straight to his good parts.

Oh yeah, Tulan was all in while he was fighting.

All in.

A defender peaked his rifle over the wall, trying to take potshots at the Rangers making their way up the gate's walls. He got one Ranger, sending him tumbling down, armor cracking on the ground. Tulan swiveled his body, and drew his sidearm, letting his rifle hang. The disruptor took everything above his nose off, sending the Sith soldier falling over the walls, next to the man who he tried to kill. The Ranger at the bottom gave a weak thumbs up.

Tulan expected nothing less from his boys.

Boys? Maybe not now.

More like goons, hooligans, felons with a uniform.

The Silvers might not have liked it, but Tulan was starting to spring guys out of the pen and the big houses all over the galaxy. Deal was, they behave, wear the armor, shoot the bad guys, slit throats, and they get reduced sentences. Gave men second chances. Then again, he wasn't very open about that fact, but that was a conversation for another time. As standard procedure, they threw smoke grenades, the kind that ruined IR- over the top as they reached the battlements. The confused Sith soldiers didn't have a chance, the ones on the battlements at least. Coughing and confused, and lacking the ability to discern targets through infrared, the Raiders and Rangers made it over the wall-

And one step closer to the Fortress Imperium.

There was a Sith soldier, trying to clear a malfunction in his machine gun, desperately was trying to get a hold on the situation. Through his internal comms, he could hear the rampant silence incoming from multiple positions. The worst was feared- the Rangers were now inside the fortress, through two distinct entry points. He had to move, he had to move quickly otherwise he'd be next.

The last thing he saw was a distinct T-shaped blue visor coming through the smoke. He didn't have time to feel the blaster bolt go through his face. It all went black, and he fell into the fortress.

From his elevated position, Tulan tapped Rupert, sprinting over to him, as the smoke cleared and the firefight resumed.

"Get to the supply depots, set off anything that looks explosive! Try to knock out anything that could be used later."

Thirdas had done his job beautifully, but the kid had more worked to do.

Casualties or not.

Tulan took a deep breath, crouching behind the battlements as his Rangers and the TF Raider operators went to work on giving the now confused and loosely-organized Sith a hell of a time. Soldiers coming out of their barracks were slaughtered like pigs, and generally-

It was hell, for them at least. For the Rangers and the Raiders, it was a good time. Revenge wasn't the Jedi way.

But they weren't Jedi, were they?

He needed to tell the kid the bad news.

"Drop a flare and the casualty teams get him! He'll be pulled back. We can't afford to lose this momentum! Take your team and get in with the Sappers on the second entry point, we're on the wall- clear out the last defenders and get the hell inside, I got a special job for your big stupid ass."

Tulan did a round check on his rifle, and peaked over the wall. He dome-rocked a Sith trooper trying to sprint to the armory, making a canoe out of once was his skull. He laughed, swiveling to find another target. Through the smoke, through the haze, and through the noise, and high above it all- Tulan seemed like the man, the thing he was- an emissary of the Reaper, a collector of souls. A purveyor of death, and a man hellbent on making as many people dead in as little time possible. He stepped over body after body, coordinating fires and movements, casualty collection and firing positions.

Despite his short stature, there was something ethereal about him- as if he was granted the Reaper's scythe for just a short while. Ice's Deathly Touch, cold and unforgiving, came not in the form of sleep, disease, but in the form of a short, angry man who wanted nothing but to watch the Sith burn. But he remembered what got him here, he remembered what they did. What they took from him, what he was denied.

He'd been dead for years, wandering from one place to the next, too cowardly to take his own life, and he'd been trying to find someone to take his life. He'd told himself that if he could find a good death, he would be okay, that he'd see her again, that all of the things that he did wouldn't matter. But here he was, burning the people that gave him the skills to do it. They took it all from him they took it all from her, they took it all from the galaxy. They plunged the galaxy into darkness, into chaos.

The Silvers would be the one to bring the light back, bring that hope back.

The Jedi wanted to bring the light back with hope, and conquering fear by showing the galaxy that all they needed was hope, was inner peace.

The Rangers were going to light the way to freedom and revenge with fire. Tulan wanted to line the road to victory with bodies, hang every single Sith by their necks until they were dead. No quarter, no mercy, no surrender. The Fortress, tactically, wasn't that big of a target, in the grand scheme of things. It was a symbol. Of their might. Of their power.

They were gonna take it away from them.

And they were gonna let them know who did it.
 


Location: Weaponized Equator, Concordia
Objective: [member="Mishel Kryze"]
Allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"]



Mishel Kryze said:
"the one you seek resides here no longer."
She was immediately taken back -- her voice, was different. Her attire and persona was different but it was her voice that peaked the Jedi's curiosity; it wasn't Mish.​
She brought her hands up, whipping her forearms from their idle position into a guard just out in front of her. With it, she brought forth a metaphysical shield or shimmering energy; the barrier was timed enough that it would be strongest in its center and meet the telekinetic blast just at the right moment.​
Protecting both her and Coren for the moment, she was thrown off by how much power was behind...Mish had grown in strength here.​

Mishel Kryze said:
"I am Mežsrožu, Daughter of Seiger and now Child of the Emperor."
"Mežsrožu..." she was replicating that name in her mind. She thought back to that one brief moment where her eyes had reverted back and then subsequently changed again...​

Mishel Kryze said:
"for two years you left her there - two years and she was not but a flicker of thought in your mind."

Coren Starchaser said:
He stepped out behind Romi, another he had lost to the darkness before. Looking up, Starchaser listened. Refusing to nod, but accepting the words thrown out, he could feel it in Mishel, it was her truth. He looked at Romi, then at her. “I left someone who I thought was strong enough to hold the darkness back from herself. Someone who was ready.” Apparently he was wrong.
She glanced over at Coren...but in irritation by his chosen words.​
This all was sounding familiar, and she was not going to let this issue fester and prolong itself.​
She hit the end of the ramp, and bent at the knee before launching herself into the air and through a somersault -- force aided acrobatics to close the minimal gap between them and Mishel. Her scarlet blade shot to life and she came weighing down on the girl.​
 
The Force struck him hard from near point blank range and repulsed him backwards, the weight of his armor saving him from tumbling away like a ball. She had pushed him off from his favored intimate range where he excelled leaving a small but obvious distance between the two. Instinct, born out of the ruthless practice given to him by his father, raised his vambrace arm forward at the Sith lady and a salvo of blaster fire launched her way.

Amon did not wait for an invitation.

Give them no quarter, Ronan's words rang in his head. Repulsors were kicked in once more giving him a substantial increase in speed to close down the distance between them faster and the Mandalorian went for a series of heavy strokes at the Sith aiming to drain her stamina reserve.

[member="Braith Achlys"]
 

Rupert Kingswood

Guest
R
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Location: Breaching Fortress
Allies: [member="Thirdas Heavenshield"] | [member="Tulan Kor"] | Rangers and SJO
Enemies: Sith Defenders​
Objective: Infiltration to the max!​


Dorn Company.

The past hour was a blur. He didn't have a firm grasp on his memory as the battle went on.

They had made it to the breach point, courtesy of the sappers and one Sergeant Heavenshield. Talk about a true badass.

He connected his grapple line on his tactical belt, alongside Tulan. He could feel the excitement in his body, it irradiated throughout of the team of Rangers. Then the ascent started. Multiple times Sith Defenders would peak their rifles over the ledge and shoot down multiple shots that were poorly aimed, potshots to be exact. Kingswood himself got a couple hand hits and fallen weapons as he continued to scale the fortress walls. Once they hit the top, the smoke grenades were deployed. The corporal quickly adjusted his visor to see through smoke, one of the many features of the Katarn Commando Armor.

They were in.

Through the smoke it was easy to see. Bodies were dropping as the Rangers continued to advance the firefight further. Tulan came over to Kingswood and tapped him, giving orders as he did.



Tulan Kor said:
"Get to the supply depots, set off anything that looks explosive! Try to knock out anything that could be used later."

He nodded abruptly. He tapped a Ranger on the back. He wasn't going in alone, now was he? They were quickly spread out, away from the firefight. Sounds of blaster bolts and explosions went off in the distance, yet the Corporal paid no attention to it. Reinforcements of Sith Troopers ran throughout the corridors making there way towards the battlezone.

Unfortunately, he didn't know where to go. Fortunately, he has many sources around him.

Another wave of Sith troopers came sprinting past, quickly enough to not see the impromptu hiding position Kingswood had set up for himself and his accomplice. As the last defender ran past, it was too late for him. The corporal grabbed the leg of the defender as the other Ranger grabbed the upper body of the trooper. He gave a hard lovetap towards the forehead area of the helmet, the defender lying unconscious in their arms. They picked up his body and hoisted him into what seemed like an abandoned room. They threw his body on the ground and sat around the body. They took of the defenders helmet and slapped him multiple times. He woke up accordingly.

It took a while, but they got their information.
 
Location: Citadel
Allies: Sith
Enemies: [member="Kiegan Lysle"]
Objective: Dissect

She walked, but with patience and not hurrying in a worry, towards the general direction of the hangar where the Jedi and their pawns made known of their entrance within the citadel. Predictable at this rate, had they been more cunning into their strategies perhaps they would be more in control of the board and have the Empire make drastic moves with their pieces. Rather they chose a more courageous assault, maybe given more meaning to the analogy that the light will always rise to meet the tides of the night instead of using the darkness as a tool of their own to fend off their enemy’s despicable advances. Many would admire this, but to Heca she found absolute stupidity amongst the sudden attackers and only hoped their reckless actions would find punishment to equate it.

Many rushed past her, legionnaires that were ordered to reinforce their brethren keeping the Jedi at bay and stall them until they lost momentum in their attack. Why did she not ran to meet their mortal enemy? Only because she knew the Jedi would find their opponents; she would allow them to come to her. Let them do the work and then apply her skills on them. They thought themselves as the hunters, yet they stepped inside the lions’ den.

And her senses found an aura within the den that attracted her to its owner.

”Mmmm, appealing.”

There were others accompanying the Jedi, but none shared what separates him from the rest. Pawns that praised the Jedi and devoted their lives in following their blades. But that was wonderful to her, more insects to play. Her mind raced with many ideas in creating a construct for them, imagination that didn’t understood the word ‘definite’. To start with that construct she would invade the mind of the Jedi, but not in aggression and not in the intention to dominate his mind. Build up before releasing the wave. Make him question what is and what isn’t real before reaching more into the complex recess of the mind.

Perhaps the idea of a primed detonator being thrown at him and his squad would test the waters and see how smooth or rocky these waters were to navigate.
 

Mishel Kryze

Guest
M
Mežsrožu laughed at Master Starchaser, "clearly you know not your own apprentices, pity." Her voice and tone were carefully measured and paced, she was impressed by the other Master who seemed less of the one-minded variety. "At least one of you came prepared." Master Jade's blade roared to life, the brunette caught a glimmer of the attack and let her own volcanic orange blade sprung into being. She took a more defensive stance as Master Jade's blade met hers, a violent concussion erupted from the pair and at least for Mežsrožu, forced her back several feet. She narrowed her gaze on Master Jade but spoke to Master Starchaser.

"Truly, you had no idea what Mishel had been through. Between the Knights of Ren, the Incursion and finally getting her so-called freedom on Dagobah." Mežsrožu laughed with malicious intent and then bade Master Jade come hither. She growled as the tone of her voice dripped with darkness, she made it clear. "You had to have known this day would come when I would truly become what my father had intended."

A monster.

A weapon.

A tool of the dark side, Mežsrožu wanted to be the precision instrument used by the Ren and now the Sith. To oversee Seiger's Will was to oversee the Imperial Way, the way of Order and there could be nothing else that stood between this goal and herself. The eye in which [member="Darth Carnifex"] had harvested shifted with an emerald hue, he would be watching. Mežsrožu brought her lightsaber up and countered Master Jade with a Djem-So strike of her own. "Please, do tell me how much Mishel has failed you, it just makes me all warm and fuzzy on the inside."

[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Romi Jade"]
 
The lightsaber, in his hand, he rolled the cylinder as he heard his apprentice speak, as he felt the Force shift in Romi Jade. Coren Starchaser was a Jedi Master, but he was a blunt object, trained and capable of hitting the front line, and taking down the ranks of the dark side. But when it came to the work of a Shadow, piecing out the threats, and then setting up the positions for those like Coren to come in to handle them.

The Jedi did not sense lies in MIshel’s words, and he remained, stoic, and observing.

“Never thought MIshel was as weak as that. To come back to be something less than a Jedi.” Coren stated as he started stepping forward, his lightsaber in hand, as his cloak released from him. “When she could be so much more than what you are.” His voice carried as he activated his blade, the yellow blade, crowned with specs of blue starfire. While he preferred to hit from range, he was versed in Shien/Djem So, and was coming in with a strike towards his former apprentice, on the tail of her own strike against Romi.

His strike was more to pull her swing and saber out of ready, to throw her off her balance. “I know MIshel would be better than you at predicting me."

[member="Romi Jade"]
[member="Mishel Kryze"]
 
Death.

The doors into the base shifted open to reveal what was the source of such a dark disturbance, the storm beneath the surface clouding everything in its shadow. It was a giant over eight feet in height a figure that was so large it looked like it should've been a statue instead of an actual man. A titan of war clad in a heavy set of armor so massive it should've been plating welded onto a starship than protecting a man into battle. An impossibly large blade was gripped in his hand that was easily over seven feet long. The figure glowed with power, surrounded by a storm of dark side energy and an ocean of fear that poured from him like a swirling vortex. Even though his face was covered by a great helm one couldn't help but feel the figures eyes burn holes through them. What did it feel like to stare into the eyes of death? What did it feel like to stand before the Shadow Hand of the Sith Emperor, Master of Death, Lord of Lies. In the silence of the winter landscape one could hear the whispers, distant screams and cries of victims slaughtered by the infamous Reaper of Worlds.

It was a fact that was utterly incomprehensible to most that individual people could be directly responsible for so much death, the true scope of it was enough to drive even the most astute philosophers, and historians mad. It was unclear how one born of this world could treat life with such an apathetic attitude, to burn down entire worlds, purge entire populations simply because they chose to stand rather than kneel when the Sith Empire loomed over their world. Whenever the Shadow Hand appeared death was certain to follow his presence was a blessing to some, a curse to others. As the winds howled through the door somewhat blocked by his great form the giant seemed to remain still although hidden, his gaze was locked on the pair that stood before him.

[member="Asaraa Vaashe"].

Darkness descended. To the pink haired Jedi it felt like a great shadow eclipsed the lights presence, shrouding the landscape in void. ̳̫̤"À̧̟̜̻t̸̛̼̣̞͚̬̻͇͓͘ ̶̡͙̻̩͎̭͍̲̮̰́l̖̬̳̩̥͇̣͢ͅọ͉͙̤̥͕̕n̶̢̘͎̻͢g͉̩͉̯̦̺̖̖ ͎͍̜̞̺̥͝l̫a̸͇̥̮͖̦̥̲͘s̛̱͔̬̤͇͕̪͍͈͠t̵̢̲̹̪͉̩̣̙͔͘ ̴̡̦̞ͅy̛̝͙̬̠̥̗̰̖o̶̧͎̞u̠̻͠ ̡͚̩̩͞h̸̗̩͍̩̼̼̝á̩̗͚̗̖v̢̘̖̟̗͓͇͘͟ẹ̺̲̗͍̹̪͜ ̶̵̻̰̩̙͎a̜͚̘̪̬̖͡r̛̗̗͓̫̱͟r̛̰̣̥̞͢į̲̝̤͚͍̞͙͍̖̕v̩̯͉̰ḛ̡̮͝d̲̥̕.̷̯.̗̝̺̯̟͢ͅ.̴̘̻̹͙̪̻̫ͅ ͕̙̠̬͍͖͢͡" The Lord of Lies spoke. The figures voice came out in an otherwordly, hypnotic lull. It was both intoxicating and disturbing, tugging at the strings of sanity that protected the walls of the mind. "̷̻̬͔̕Y̶̭͓̞̹̲̞̭͜o̧͏̫̹u̠̳̲r͚̖̱̫͓͍̗̟ ͉͍̮͖͠e̷̗͢y̞̦͎̱e͎̮͖̝̺͜ṣ͙͢ ͏̢̼̺̠̫̜͉̤͟r̵̯͔̣e̤͖̭͎̜͍m̧̹͕̫͚̗͎͟à̢͍̼̫̰̤̻̟į̫͎͖̩͓͉̠n̸̺̻͚̣̯ ̵̛͍̩͈̮̗͟c̰͇͚̥͇̭͈l̷̹̥̭̠͘͜o̪̖ș̛̠ȩ͙̰̥̣͚̗̞̘̀͘d̵̴̞̫͠ ̣͇̘͓̰͎ț͚̯̝̲̯̰̻o̪̱͍̺̠͉͔̳̙ ̠͉t̷͏̻̮͚̞h̟͕͈̲͟e͉̞͝͡ ̩̟̰͓͟t̡͏̲͍̫ͅr̲u̴̹͖̞̟̗̤̬̠̖e̷̵͓͇ ͈͕͕̮̱̠͡͠p̙͡a̶̼̳̠͓͘t̴̩̲̭̦̯͠h̵͏͎͎̯ ̶̡̨͈͙̞̬̰̰̯c͚̤̗͔h̻̼͖̗̯́i̧̗̙̥͙̟͝ͅl̡̲̞̮̕d͔̣̮̩͠.̛̩̯̜̗͍̫̬ ̞͚͇̜̻̺̣̰͘Y̜̰̻͖o̜̙͙̪͔̩͔̲̜͠ù̶̙̱̩̕ ̡͓̞̹͔͘f҉̷͖̟è̺̙̫͙e̢̹̜̯̬͓̺̮͈͢͢ḻ͖̞̤̹͍̬͈ ҉̸͇̻͚̼i̸̧̭̮̬͔t̫̬̹̱͎͍͠͡ ̷͓͎̗͈͎̕͞ͅe̸͍͉̳̖̞͓͟v̷̳̮͔͘͝e̯̦̮̘̤͡͝n̞͔̜͕͎͕͠ ̛̪̯̼͚̻͖͡ņ̴̠̩̖̤͉͇̦͓o̷̡̗̫̻͠w̠̫̩̞.̷̕͏͔͔.̶͔͉͙̞̬.͍̙͉̻̳͍͔͙̺͘o͙̲̺̙͘͜b͓̮͎̭̻̖͙͟͡l҉̞̗̝̯͚i̺v̴̡̡̠͍̤̘̞̻i͚̥̥̖̝͈͢o͏̡̘̟̪̲͎͓̼n̴͇͍̫ ̨̻̟̪̲̜̲̙ͅć̸̨̠̜͚a̷͉̲̳̘̰l̥͔͍̣̖̜͠ͅͅl̛̝͎̤̗̳̲̘͚̀s̵̳̮̪̲ ̶̢͈̭̺̘͟o̷̢̪̟͘u̯̘͎͖͙̦t̸̶͔̪̭̲̘̫͓̥̟͜ ̜t̡͔̳͎͕͓̕͝o̶̡͔͎͇͎̞̕ͅ ̵̴̖̩̲̹̱y͉̺̰̪̺o͝҉̱͖ͅù͜҉̜̭̜̜̬̖ ̖͖̹̟̳͡a̵̡̧̰n͓̠͚ḍ͈ ̢̙͚̫̣̳̻͉̥͘y̠̩͍̤ǫ͕̪̙̹͕̱͔̫̙̕ú̗̫̭̮ ̸͖̜͍̱͉̟̻r̢͖͍̲̪e̹̭̫̯͚̪͘ş̨̖͉̰̳͟i̵̸͉̪̘̰̰̗̪̗̱ș̵̶̛̳̻̺̞̞͉̙t͇̯̠̝͍̗̬͔͢ ̨͎̙̹̦̗͓̪ͅi̡̺͕͔̥̯͡ͅt̷͔̟͘s̨̖͙͢ ̨̹̪͚̮ẹ̷̙̙̫̝̤̞m̶̛͉̮̙̳̹̭̲͙b̮̥͝r̦̲͉̙͎͈̪̞̹a̴̺̯̗̗c̭̬̪̖̼̪͓ͅè͎͠.̸̺͖̦̲̗̜́ ̶̵̸͔" The Sith Lord said as the world seemed to swirl around her. The Mountain suddenly shifted from in front of her to next to her, and the mountainous base in front was the vastness of a city of such size, it continued beyond what the eyes could see. There was billions of souls, a world filled with life boomed all around them. The skies suddenly darkened as the amount of ships above there was so many, it was impossible to count. "Ỳ͕͉͘ơ̡̠̱͚̰̞̮͡u̶̴͖̞̼̺̬̞ŕ̻̦̟̫ ̛̥̖̺q̢͉̼̱̖͍͇̀͟ù͓͙̰ẹ̗͎͖̣̜̩̺͞s̷̡͔̯̮̯̬̯t͏͕͓͓̜̫̦͙̹͟ ̛̖͇͜f̶͍̩͔̫̭̬̺̜͢ͅo̷̯͖̪͉̩͢ŕ͝҉͎̣̤͇̳̮ ̖̞̻̳̱̕ͅj̸̢̹̲͈̰̰̼͈̼u͖̻͎̻͖̻͕̕͢͜s̸̨̬͚̲͠t̬͖͉͚̲̠i̡̮̖͎̯͉͜c̤̗e̡̙̘̰̭̼̫̱̙ ̘̮̼̺̭w̡̻͕̪̹̥̻͇͈i̠̬̻l͖̦͕l͝҉̳͔͎̗͖͕͉͚̟ ̧͍̘̕b͚͉̠̜̲̳̙͜͟ͅḙ̻̤̲͘ͅ ̬̤͇͟y̶̴̛̤̘͇̱͙̝̘o̶͈͈̣̗̬̖̞͙u̷͚͉̭̘̫͇r̴̷͏̣͔ ̸̧̹̪̰̤͖͇͘u͜͏͍̥̙̹͉̯n͈̗̱d͡͞͏̖̭̣͇͙̗ó͢҉̮̟̦͚̰̣̙̯i͙̜͝n͏̳̫̝̱̕g̴̦͍̦͖̱͇.͈̳͕̜ ̡̝̪͕̖̫̝̱́Ỵ̞̟̤̖̩͇̖͝o̧̡͇̺͢u̗͎̰͢͞ ̭̗̠k̴̪̖͔̥n҉̛̝̭o̠͇͙̻̼w̱͙̹̯̝ͅ ̛͓̼͕̘̝̦̙̖͢͝ț̷̺͈̮h̴͎̺̹̝̟͖͡i̢̗̘͍̼͔͚ͅs҉̨͇̺ ̵̴̶̠̞̩̰̣͔̣̹t҉͓̜̮̞̦͜ǫ̭͖̙̙̟ ̼̖̼̩̥̜̬́͘b̺ͅe̛͖̻͜ ̛̛̻̲̗t̥̘̹̲r͚̖̼̙̪͙͜u͏̻̲̲͚e̵̪̜̱̗͕̺̥ ̖͢ç̲͠ͅh̡̫̼͞į̸̻͇̖͙͕̰̮͎͘l̹̦̬͕͔͢d̙̫͞͞.̛̣ ͚̣͔͢͟Ŗ̧͙e̵̮̹͙͉s̞̲̣i̪͕̫͢͝s̴͓͙̬̜̲̺̀͢t̨̛͉̮̪̥͎͓͔̤ạ̪n̸̹̮̕ć̸̣̗e̢͔ ̶͜͏̺̗̫͔͉i̧̥̗̞̤s̛̳͈͈͈͚̗̙ ͏̼͔̰f̷̲̙̬̗̕u̢͞͏͔t͚̰̤̫̩͢͝i̴̼̺̟̻̱͞l̷̛͏̜̰͖͔̬̹̜e̷̬͚̯͈͚͇.͚̞̤͕͇̩ ͇̻̝̼͔̱̥͇͟L͔e͏̛̙̬̮͈̤ṭ̢͕̰͓̬ ̢̟̫t͉̹̰̥̠͎̟h͔̥̰̺͚ͅȩ̠̬͈ͅ ̡̲͓͇͔͢ͅv̧҉̣̯̬̺͎͓̥͙͘o̙̙̙̠̣͓͈̥i͇͚͇̤͚͟d̸̜͇̤ ̨̙͚̣w̻̱͖̭͍͠a̢̬̳s̨̛͉̟̩̩͙̀h̡͏̪͔͍̺͈͚͝ͅ ̳̥̼͖̗͓ͅo͏҉̪̝̹͚͕̭͇v̷̖̬͉̱͎̬̦͖e̷̲̼̱̳̼̪͢r̸̨̲̩͉͎͚͟ͅ ͏͕̬̭̺y̙̦͜͝ọ̴̮̮͈̖̝̼̮̕͝u͎͓͕̬̹̯̣̩͜.̵̘̪̜̜͟ " The figure said.

Fire. In mere moments the vast fleet surrounding the world opened fire with every weapon in their arsenal. The sheer amount of firepower was so great it quite literally lit the sky on fire. The earth rumbled and shook and under the relentless assault billions died and the sheer disturbance of such annihilation flooded over the beacon of light, their final moments washed over them like a flood. In the real world the Sith Lord finally started moving right as the vision began to fade he moved with all the inevitability of a force of nature. The amount of energy gathered before him was so large it tore several inches of the ground and whipped the snow up just from his passing, the earth caved in small craters wherever his boot stomped. The Shadow Hand stretched out an open hand and there was an explosion, a rolling destructive wave of dark side energy surged towards them as he charged.

[member="Yuroic Xeraic"]
 
Run For Your Life

The tiny golden scales that coated her pale skin squirmed, tiny razor-sharp teeth biting deep in anticipation for the rush of darkness their Firrerrean host was about to invite into her as fuel, pumping her veins with adrenaline, cat-like eyes widening as their pupils dilated and her vision focused - grip shifting, foot sliding, calves tensing, Braith welcomed the overwhelming desire to simply move with the instinctual dart forwards. She met the blaster fire with a raised saber, using her carapace-covered forearm to shield herself from the man's saber strike, forgoing the conventional rule of battle that so many in this civilized era fell back on. The sound of sabers, hissing through the air as they moved, were lost on her, the sight of blaster bolts, bright as they were, dulled to a dim grey as she knocked them away - there was the memory of the dirt beneath her feet, of the whistling of swords and spears through the wind and the inevitable clash of steel against steel.

Yes - clashing her saber against his as blade came at her again - this was where she was meant to be. She bared her teeth, she smiled, violet eyes wide and watching with amusement. All she needed was to let loose, to forget everything and just cut this man down - forget three years being taught civility by a Jedi, forget decades of restraint in an Alliance doomed from the onset to failure, and remember the ferocity she had once fought with that had instilled such fear in those around her that she had been raised up in worship. Heat surged through her as she willed herself to move faster, to strike harder, to overwhelm this man in a metal mask with sheer overwhelming force - like a beast unchained, each strike she threw built on the last, no limb moved without purpose, no strike without reason, and yet she dismissed all restraint.

It wasn't long until she remembered the call of the ethereal flow these Jedi and Sith called the force and prepared to use it.

[member="Amon Vizsla"]
 

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