Public Ozymandias

[Caltin Vanagor]

“True courage is to stand up to evil, even when we stand alone.” - Richard C. Edgley​

Primary Objective

He was still in the fight.

This is good.

It meant that Njal could see how futile this was for him. Sure, the huge monster of a man was a juggernaut who was clearly a man of war, but he was one who seemed to have a code of honor. Granted it was probably not going to be one that the massive Jedi Master shared, but the behemoth was still more intelligent than he let on.

Or probably allowed to let on to be sure.

The compliment brought a nod of acknowledgment from Vanagor as there was really nothing to say, he knew that it was leading to something else, and there it was.

As do you but You’re right. I wouldn’t have held back if you were a Sith.

It wasn’t really meant to get under the Viking’s skin, but if it did? Well… meh… either way the kick did knock him back several feet, but the ax would indeed swing true but would not meet its mark. .The forehand blade of Vanguard would meet to block it, trying to redirect the weapon outward and away to Njol’s right as Caltin ignited the backhand or “permafrost” color blade and swung it in more of a “follow up” much like his last move, but at the mid-section of his opponent.

TAG: Allies - TEAM LIGHTSIDE
Foes: Njal The Black, TEAM DARKSIDE

Spoiler: Personal effects

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
HK-88 Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, (Jedi Interceptor in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)
Sanctuary Island

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Kahlil Noble Valery Noble Darth Empyrean
Elani Zambrano​

She flew into the elevator, and time seemed to still. She could see sparks suspended in the air, hear the screams slowed down to molasses and stretched to infinity. Yet, just above the din of battle she heard a whisper. "Live, sister." The apparition was gone as quickly as it had come, and rage drowned it.

Valery followed her at speed, pressing Joycelyn in their confinement, and the former Princess was more than happy to answer.

Zaudraka lashed out against the first slash, not parrying but seemingly trying to knock the blade out of her hand with the sheer force and weight of the sword. It cared little for the resistance of the elevator, ripping the metal like paper-thin skin and exposing the workings within. The integrity of their capsule was already at question, and she did not seem to care.

The combination was a good one.

The blade thrust itself into the giant's abdomen. That only placed Valery within her reach. Seemingly careless about her own safety, Darth Vornskr reached down to seize the hilt of the lightsabre with crushing strength and pulled it out of herself, seeking to then turn the blade back on the Jedi that cut her.

A broad grin spread across her lips, making the skin crack at her edges as her eyes glowed like lanterns against the pain.

Joycelyn had always appeared less corrupted than many of her siblings, but now her dark exterior was becoming plain; Her skin did not have the tell-tale dark veins, but cracked like molten rock; Her breath was like the exhaust of a furnace, warping the air in front of her face. And the strength- It was unnatural, even for her size and musculature.

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Kahlil lifted his blade as he watched the pair of guards drop. Ignited the green edge as he took a stance unlike anything he had before. Soresu had always been his main focus. But as he lifted the blade in one hand, pointed down, arm crossed over his chest, well. Seeing his sister again put him in a more family mood than he figured.

Their assault was not unusual, not to him. The combined blade work of two once Sith. His father had preached the Rule of Order after all. And he knew all too well how effective two Force bound beings could get. Not that they were comparable to his bond with Valery. His blade flashed around in a speed he hadn't show before. Pulling on that bond with Valery, using her skill where his own normally wouldn't be enough.

Against the two, he could defend all day by himself. But time wasn't on his side. The dark swelled further and further. They, in turn, were getting stronger. His blade arced around, carving through the ground in the process of his defense. He kicked, spun, jumped, anything he could to avoid their combinations. It was far more movement than he normally would.

At least until he cut one last line of his own accord into the floor. With a wink the Jedi raised a hand. The cuts through the floor lit up in a dazzling display of a rune. One that flashed with the Light, even here. Even among the Dark. It was brief, and only worked through the rune, but that was the goal. A flash of Light to burn the two Praetorians who dove so deep into the Dark's embrace so he could step through the pair and cut them down once and for all.

Darth Empyrean | Valery Noble | Darth Empyrean

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Strosius Alina Tremiru Wyatt Morga​

Ophidia was rarely one to converse much during a fight, even less so in a scuffle as chaotic as this.

Azure and crimson clashed, snapped and hissed as the two blades carved through the ash-filled air. Ophidia almost smirked for a second as Alina's blade swept down against the Jedi's legs, coaxing him to leap. She feinted high with her bloodshine blade while a shikkar extended along her left. Then, just as she was about to thrust the glass blade into his abdomen

Zap!

Ophidia threw a cold glance back at her apprentice.

"Apprentice, get those you need away from this place."

-She spoke in the brief moment before Wyatt was back on his feet. The wave of the Force pulled her up into the air, but she regained control before he could slam her back into the ground. Those he had slammed down screamed in pain, and Ophidia took a deep breath to draw upon their anguish. Red mist rose from their bodies as their flesh began to blacken. Her eyes flickered with exhilaration until threats suddenly snapped her back into focus.

The azure blade whipped out against her back, and the Pale Assassin appeared to slap it out of the way with her left hand as her blade flashed up, then down. She first tried to snip Wyatt's hand off as he attacked her, then followed up with an advance and cut against the head.

Her left hand made a swift jerk as she drew on the sabre that had fallen at her feet in the beginning. It flashed to life and arced toward Wyatt's back.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective 1: Stop the Kingslayers
Location: Odavessa, near the Khartsis Pyramid
Equipment: Lightsaber, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Wyatt Morga / Alina Tremiru / Darth Ophidia
--------------------------------------------

If Alisteri was being honest with himself, his bolt of lightning actually hitting its target was an unexpected but very welcome surprise. He paused for a moment in shock as the Jedi was thrown back, glancing at his hand before quickly recomposing himself upon hearing his master's voice. "Understood. Let's-woah!" The masked Sith's order to the others around him yet to charge was cut off as most of them, himself included, were lifted into the air. They floated up high, some of the Sith grabbing onto one another or trying to hold onto the steps in order to keep close to the ground, but it wouldn't last long.

Oh chit. All at once they were slammed back down onto the ground with great force, many of the Sith splattering into paste or impacting the ground with gut-wrenching cracks and cries of pain. Were it not for his armor he may have joined the latter of the Sith, the Knight struggling to try and get back onto his feet with his newly aching and bruised limbs. "That Jedi son of a-AAAHHH!" He didn't get up very far before the second wave hit them. The surviving Sith yelled as they were thrown back, sounds of more breaking and skidding accompanying the Sith that were sent flying.

Thankfully for him, his fall was broken by a fellow unluckier Sith. Unfortunately his right arm was still bent at a very unnatural angle from him trying to stop himself. Stifling his own pained noises as he pulled himself from the pile of Sith, he summoned his lightsaber back to his left hand and managed to stand on shaking legs. "As you wish master. Get up and move it!"

Normally he would have at least tried to retaliate, avenge his arm and his comrades by trying to take the Jedi's head off, but he had little intent of being thrown around again. His master had given him an order and he wasn't going to argue. The Sith that managed to pick themselves up off the ground, some of them needing assistance from the masked Knight or their fellows to do so, either began following after Alisteri or rushing back towards the fight as he began limping off towards the nearest landing zone. His only hope was that it wasn't leveled by the bombardment just yet.

 

[Njal The Black]

Njal laughed, loud and heavy as the blade came down - but the twist of Caltin forced him to adjust. The issue became apparent when he smelled the damage - the numbness in his arm had gotten worse than he thought, and it lagged behind as he twisted away from the blade. What was left of his girthy, muscular forearm was a burnt stub.​

​

He grit his teeth and fell to a knee while his strong hand still kept a tight grip on the axe. His gaze watched his hand for a long second - but for him it felt like an eternity. When was the last time the man had lost a limb in combat? Years, easily.​

​

The Viking looked back up to Caltin Vanagor and grinned through a blood stained expression.​

​

"Hold back? I've seen the Dark Gods, met Typhojem face to face. The Darkness is inevitable, Jedi - holding back means nothing to the victor."​

​

He stood once more and rested the axe on his shoulder as his now maimed arm hung limp - his stance lowered ever so slightly. Caltin would recognize it as a draw strike stance - the lightning speed of his axe prepped and ready to strike Caltin with a brutal force backed by Njal's entire being.​

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

“True courage is to stand up to evil, even when we stand alone.” - Richard C. Edgley​

Primary Objective

Njal dropping to a knee allowed for the “not so big” man to assess his own injuries. There was ligament damage in his left elbow, Caltin could feel it when he redirected the ax, the Viking was that powerful. Cracked ribs were expected, but he was aspirating, which could mean a punctured lung. Nothing some time to heal would not repair, no doubt but he was himself not at any level or type of advantage here. Not a definitive one anyway.

Disengaging “Permafrost” and leaving the one “White/Blue/Purple” blade out, he angled it down and away behind him. It might look like Caltin was practically begging for some kind of attack, but merely the truth was he waited for the Viking to decide what he wanted to do. He was physically stronger than Caltin was, by a country mile (how often is that said?) but he was still failing. The retort brought little more than a shrug.

That’s all well and good, but not why I decided to act the way I have. You have a code that you live by. I chose to give you the chance to decide how you face that darkness. Not everyone gets that.

The attack that came though, was indeed “Lightning fast” and was something that Caltin missed for a moment as he focused on the injuries. The massive Jedi Master was able to block what would have been a “death blow” with his weapon but not “blade to blade”. Mentally thanking the fact that he had “Vanguard” out in his mind, he somehow managed to block the handle of the ax with his pike length hilt. The blade of the ax was beginning to pierce his chest though as blood was running down towards his legs. He was alive, but if Njal had more momentum that might change.

Do not however confuse my choice to give you one, with weakness.

Summoning electrical energy coursing through his body, Vanagor called down an enormous bolt of lightning down onto the both of them. The Jedi would survive with little issue, the Viking?


TAG: Allies - TEAM LIGHTSIDE
Foes: Njal The Black, TEAM DARKSIDE

Spoiler: Personal effects

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
HK-88 Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, (Jedi Interceptor in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)
Sanctuary Island

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Ah, she really was outclassed when it came to fighting a Force User like this, huh?

Alina could only watch as Wyatt leaped over her blade. She was strong. Fast. But seeing how effortlessly he moved away from her despite it just reminded her of when she'd lost her arms all those years ago. No matter how much she struggled and improved, those blessed by the Force would always lord above her. Nito was no different.

Pride. She wanted to prove she was something of a threat to the Grandmaster of the Jedi without her only trick. And now she was floating. Caught in his grip, unwilling to use her failsafe, she slammed to the ground. The wet sound of blood scattering around her filled her ears. Not hers. Her body was strong. Bruised of course, but she wasn't down and out.

Or, well, so she thought. Trying to push herself up only revealed just how broken her arm was. She hissed as it folded on itself. Pain rocked through her. Not just from that, but the other broken bones. Pain that muted the world around her. Golden eyes lifted, glancing first to Alisteri. He was here too. Was he hurt?

"As you wish master. Get up and move it!"

Oh? It was as if he was talking behind a window, but she could hear him. Master? The pale queen? She laughed, or at least would have if not for the cough and splattering of her own blood. Punctured lung? Didn't matter, not for long. Already her body was stitching itself back together. Painfully. Then a red mist. Golden eyes blinked as she watched the bodies around her be.. Drained?

Some weren't even completely dead yet. Was she.. She did laugh this time as she forced herself to her knees. Anima. She could feel her own be pulled at. Through sheer will alone she refused. Her wounds that had been healing slowed. Stopped all together. That damn pale queen. She staggered to her feet, leaning heavily against her blade. The red edge had shut down, leaving her with just the black steel that imbedded in the ground.

Her unnatural strength was the only reason she could turn in time to catch the strike for her shin. The wide blade acted more as a shield at this point, an unwieldy shield at that. Inwardly she cursed again and again, staggering around with an unsteady gate as all she could do was defend against the Grandmaster's fluid strikes. One hand clutching her sword. And yet, despite the anger, the pain, the woman was still grinning.

Like a madwoman Alina grinned wide. Blood stained her pale skin and hair. Her own, the Sith that had been crushed. The red mist that still hovered around them. Pain surged through her shoulder as she twisted. The blade of the Jedi cut through. But that arm was already mangled. She took the strike, willingly, as she brought her blade around in a wide, powerful strike.

"Fuck you all! I'm not a pawn!"

Darth Strosius | Darth Ophidia | Wyatt Morga

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Location: Shuttle
Appearance: Link
Outfit: Factory Link
Weapon: Lightsabers
Tag: Kahlil Noble Joycelyn Zambrano Darth Empyrean

With the clash inside the elevator reaching new levels of intensity, the frame around them was quickly pushed to its limits. Whether Valery cared about that or not was irrelevant — so much focus was needed in this fight that looking away or thinking about anything else for even just a second could result in death. So with two violet blades against Joycelyn's powerful sword, the clash between Dark and Light continued with the ferocity one would expect from such a battle.

But finally, one of her combinations seemed to work, and the thrust aimed at the woman pierced into her abdomen.

For most Sith, this would have been a killing blow, or at least one so crippling that a simple follow-up strike could have ended it. But for this Princess of the Dark, it wasn't enough — she took hold of the weapon to Valery's surprise, who was knocked back a step by the woman's sheer physical strength. In that moment, when her sister-in-law began to take control of her weapon, something happened to the Jedi's blade. It flickered faintly and if Joycelyn were to focus on it, she'd feel the strength of the lightsaber decreasing in her grip.

The crystal was resisting her.

While it wasn't strong enough to keep the Sith from just holding the blade, it would never allow her to strike down its Master. So if a swing was directed at Valery, the blade would suddenly disengage, which hopefully left her open again. With the other lightsaber now drawn into both hands by Valery, a far more strength-driven sweep was aimed across her opponent's body. It wasn't fueled by rage or powerful emotions that could have the Jedi Master slip, but it was driven by the Force, and an intense desire to purge the Zambrano's darkness from the Galaxy before it could cause any more harm.

 

[Njal The Black]

"You think you've given me choice?", Njal said as blood trailed from his lips.​

​

"I was born in darkness, I sacrifice lives to the Gods by the thousand - A code is for cowards, I serve the Gods."​

​

The blade cracked against the other's hilt with a satisfying clunk - and he could feel the heat of blood forming beneath the blade as he pressed harder on the Jedi. It was breaking his sternum, cutting deeper into the bone - if he had both arms, it'd of been over. His heart would be cut, his strength gone - but Njal could do little but push with the one arm until something would give.​

​

Unfortunately, it was the lightning from above - amidst the clouds of black turbo laser smoke and ash, the judgement of electricity hit him with a powerful blast that shook his knees. His strength faded for a moment - long enough to drop back to his knees, to let his axe fall from his grip. His vision was blurry and the ground looked so comforting in that moment - to fall on it and close his eyes felt like a dream come true.​

​

But he held himself there, fighting his bodies every urge to fall. He weakly gripped at the hilt of his nearby axe - breathing labored. If there was anything he'd do - he'd die with his axe in his hand. It was all he really needed in life - it was all he would need in death.​

​

Balagoth take him, and take this jedi - he hoped the sith sent an orbital barrage on him now.​

​

Caltin Vanagor​

 

[Wyatt Morga]

With his blade cutting off Alina Tremiru 's arm, it passed through until it caught Darth Ophidia 's first strike - but his off hand caught her wrist before she could slice his wrist. Their strength was increasing - he could sense it, the orbital bombardment, this foreign sensation of the Force slipping from him. He could feel now that it came from this Alina - but he couldn't kill her if Ophidia remained so close to him.​

​

His blade ripped behind him to block Alina's upward, powerful strike - while he dipped forward to twist Ophidia towards the ground by her wrist. His strike to his back met his boot - the reinforced bottom catching the blade and bouncing it off; before he let go and twisted back. His sensations were slow - his ability to keep fighting waning. The fleet in orbit has mostly secured victory - the planet was failing.​

​

Whatever happened, he could be reassured that the victory that took place today would set them back year - decades, centuries. He had to know that they would lose, that it made it all worth it for him to be here instead of Coruscant. As Darth Strosius retreated with those who lived - Wyatt brought his blade back down on Alina - then slide towards Ophidia's legs.​

​

He only needed to buy more time.​

​

He just needed a bit more time.​

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

“I stand ready toward danger. I stand ready to protect the innocent and defend the weak. I stand because few will.” - Army Oath​

Primary Objective

Blood was running down his chest.

His legs were beginning to tremble.

He would be fine as the Force was healing him, but that did not give Vanagor any advantage. This monster was still in the fight. Regardless of what was happening, or could happen to him. Njal just simply would not stay down. It was getting to the point where there was no honor left in this fight, the Viking was practically unarmed at this point and that was unacceptable.

As the Viking started to tense up, readying himself for an attack, Caltin gripped “Vanguard” and readied himself into a defensive stance. It was not perfect, what do you expect? He’s been getting the sh*t kicked out of him, but he fell back on his training and it would do.

That was your chance to walk away from this. Don't say that you didn't get one.

When the Viking looked like he was about to attack, the massive Jedi Master would not give him the chance. A sharp kick at the weapon hand misdirected his downward lightsaber strike at the center of the Viking's body.

He was down.

That was it.

Caltn claimed his ax and walked away.

If only you stayed down.


TAG: Allies - TEAM LIGHTSIDE
Foes: Njal The Black, TEAM DARKSIDE

Spoiler: Personal effects

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
HK-88 Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, (Jedi Interceptor in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)
Sanctuary Island

 

[Varik Awaud]

Ozymandias​

Objective: Destroy the Sith

Location: Odavessa

Engaging: Oran Khan

Equipment: Si'kahya beskar'gam, Rekr variant, ENCL-16 Purity blaster rifle, ENCL-12 Repentance Blaster Pistol, Beskad, a variety of grenades

Varik dropped his pistol as the Vong Sith charged, raising his beskad to meet the arcing swing of his enemy head on. The lightsaber hissed and cracked as it made contact with the Mandalorian's blade. Strength met strength, and Varik's muscles strained to stop the blade from moving any further. Before he could do any more the Sith's knee impacted hard against his midsection. Even with the protection afforded by his beskar'gam, it hurt a lot. He doubled over, sputtering beneath his helm as the air was forced violently from his lungs. He stumbled backward, fighting against his own pain and shock as he attempted to deal with the Sith's renewed assault. Varik parried aside several strikes, and most of those he did not meet with his own weapon instead clattered against his armor. One found purchase however, leaving a searing cut on his upper arm. It was not deep, but it burned like nothing else, as if thousands of red-hot needles were jabbing themselves over and over into his skin.

The Si'kahya commando activated his jetpack, rocketing himself backwards away from the Sith as his armor's systems flooded his bloodstream with bacta and stims. They worked together to dull the pain and sharpen his senses as he landed some distance away. Varik needed a moment, just one moment to gather himself, to refocus and lock in on the fight to come—and now he had it.

Varik fired another rocket at the Sith—a concussive blast. As soon as it left his gauntlet, he charged the Vong, blade held ready to swing. He had an idea he would have to time just right. As the first rocket exploded, Varik retrieved a flashbang grenade from his belt and activated it. He hoped the combination of an exploding rocket and a charging Mandalorian warrior might prevent the Sith from noticing until too late. In the moment before he would have gotten within range of the Sith's lightsaber, Varik dropped the grenade at their feet, and then with all his might, he jumped up. He activated his jetpack again, boosting him up in a high arc over and out of reach of the Sith's blade. As he flew through, the flashbang's timer ran out, exploding below him.

Hoping that the combination of explosives had sufficiently disoriented the Sith, Varik allowed gravity to pull him the few meters back to the ground. He landed directly behind the Sith, spinning and swinging his blade as he did so.

 

[Oran Khan]

"That's cheating!", Oran screamed through fangs, watching the Mandalorian retreat using his jetpack.​

​

He lept forward in chase - but once more the Mando sent a rocket his way. Seething, not wanting to be blown up, Oran gripped it with the Force and moved it back, hoping to return it to sender; but what he hadn't expected was for the Mando to leap at him. A soft 'Uh oh', almost escape his lips before they slammed against one another in the air - followed quickly by the explosion of the rocket.​

​

Instead of the flashbang sword combo the Mandalorian had planned for - they were both sent reeling from the explosion, a heavy concussive blast that spun and launched the disorientated Oran Khan far from the battle they were having, across the platform they fought on, and into the body of another dead bucket head. It took him only a second or two to regain consciousness, but his head banged like a drum in rhythm with his hearts.​

​

He groaned, moving to stand and reignite his lightsaber.​

​

Varik Awaud​

 

[Darth Empyrean]

​

​

Tag: Kahlil Noble // Valery Noble // Joycelyn Zambrano​

​

The elite guard of the Emperor fought well - but even so fighting the one who drew upon the strength of two was hard. Glowing bright, the sigil on the ground forced them both to a stall - a momentary instant where their blade hesitated, and it was all that was needed to kill them both. Kahlil, a master in his own right, knowledgable more than most in the Dark Side - cut down the Sith Lords with minor issue.​

​

But he would sense something far darker in the depths beneath them - the climax of the ritual, coming to fruition as the Force began to cry out in pain, shook like a child in a fit. Unfathomable darkness below, a dark divinity slowly coming to reality...​

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---​

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The wounds they had imparted on the elevator had begun to wear on the maglocks and traction controls - forcing the Elevator into nearly a free fall. Lightsaber marks created small windows as the shaft and its increasing speed as the elevator began to fall faster. Only near the very end of it did it brake at all - but that was hardly enough. It hit the ground with the force of a space ship crashing - and sent dust far and wide as it blew through the blast doors sealing the elevator shut.​

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What they were privy too when the dust settled was something fanatically dark. The Sepulchral, corpses walking by the sheer force of the Dark Side surrounded Darth Empyrean - hands raised as they chanted in ancient Sith incantations unknown to even the most knowledgeable of their current era. With every syllable, with every utterance of a word the Force shuttered - the unnatural genesis of darkness growing by the second.​

​

Maliphant wore only lower robes, the rest wrapped around him in a belt - dark symbols working their way across his body, pulsing, seeming to move in time with the words. Above him was a tornado of souls and ash, spinning and swirling as they slowly filled his mouth - consumed by the ritual and his body. He was comatose, gone somewhere else mentally - but one could see how devastating the ritual was as parts of his body turned to ash only to regenerate, then do so once again - every muscle he had clenched as tight as they could go - his face contorted into a silent scream.​

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Between them stood the Dark God himself - Typhojem manifest. The Worm Emperor with faceless eyes and a dozen masks looked upon the new arrivals with apathy; but his power was ever eternal. A hand raised from the confines of his robes, jerking and twitching as it came to rest palm up, fingers forming a stadium around his palm.​

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"You were not requested.", the many voice of his being overlapping together to chide Joycelyn Zambrano .​

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"And you tarnish hallowed ground.", they said to Valery Noble .​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Location: Shuttle
Appearance: Link
Outfit: Factory Link
Weapon: Lightsabers
Tag: Kahlil Noble Joycelyn Zambrano Darth Empyrean

With the intensity of the clash between her and Joycelyn Zambrano , It was only a matter of time until the elevator would reach its limits, and when it did, Valery was sent up against the ceiling from the sudden free fall. Knowing that they were going to hit the ground soon after, she braced herself and turned to the Force to cushion her fall, only moments before actual impact. The speed with which they struck the surface below was still intense enough to leave her dazed for a brief moment, but the Force willed her focus back into existence as a much larger threat revealed itself to her senses.

Still stumbling, Valery came out of the elevator shaft, her fiery gaze turned to what was happening in the depths below. Floating corpses, dark chanting in languages beyond her understanding, and a feeling of a growing darkness applying immense pressure against the barriers of her mind, capable of forcing almost anybody to surrender to the insanity. But Valery's determination was strong, and while her eyes settled on Darth Maliphant's form, she began to shield her mind and prepare herself to end the ritual.

"Lend me your strength, love," Her words echoed between the bond with Kahlil Noble , who had taken care of the elite Sith guards up above. She expected him to help her soon, but right now, she drew more strength through their unique bond and began to move with lightning speed to intercept her target before it was too late.

"And you tarnish hallowed ground."

The dark voice reached out to her, but Valery raised a hand and summoned her strength to cast the Light Side around her like a shield, allowing her to push through the otherwise withering darkness that surrounded her now. The other hand meanwhile reached down, removing her newer weapon from her belt and with an explosive jump assisted by the Force, she closed the distance to Maliphant.

Two violet blades sprung to life in the air from each end of her saberstaff, and with a fire ignited in her eyes and soul, Valery swept the weapon down diagonally to the man she had faced only once before.

The plasma that burned hotter than most weapons was aimed to connect with his outstretched arm first, before carving its way into the torso tainted by dark symbols and scars formed by the ritual itself. In recent years, her intent to kill Sith on sight had diminished greatly, but her intent and the strength she poured into her attack only had a single purpose today — she came to stop the ritual and purge the one responsible, no matter the cost.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Very well."

The Dark Lord lunged from the darkness, the scarlet blade of His lightsaber snapping to life mid-leap. Despite the state of His physical condition, the gargantuan tyrant seemed to have lost no potency in His stranglehold over the Dark Side of the Force. It flowed through Him easily, the darkness suffusing every aspect of His being as He moved with the fluidity of a man more than half His age and even more than half His stature.

His crimson saber slashed wildly at Master Thio, but not without direction. There was a pattern in the maddeningly chaotic attack, the Dark Lord was not an animal beholden to primal urges, despite what the galaxy may say or think about Him. He was a tactician, a gifted one by some standards, and He never did anything without reason. Every attack was part of a series, a single action that made up a larger one. It was almost like He was training Master Thio rather than fighting Him to the death, the movements often repeated and in the same sequence.

"If you will not kneel, then your knee must be made to bend."

Jax Thio | Darth Prazutis ​

 

[Srina Talon]

S H I R A Y A - E X P A N S E
| En Route to Odavessa |

Tag: Darth Empyrean | Worm Emperor & Co ( Valery Noble & Joycelyn Zambrano )
_________________________________________________________

Patience.​

It was not a virtue that she inherently possessed nor was it one she sought to cultivate. She moved only when she intended. Without wasted energy, wasted effort, or any thought toward the ticking hands of a clock. The Worm Emperor, if, such a title could even be bequeathed to something so conniving and parasitic could no more keep her at bay than the pale shore could deny a black, tumultuous sea. He could delay her. He could present as a deterrent—But the thing he chose to be could not stop her.

She was inevitable.

The moment he took an ill shine to Maliphant, for better or worse, they came as a pair. Dyad. Bound. He had crossed the universe for her when he knew little more than her name. Called through a star-lit tunnel that bridged gaps the size of entire star-systems. Such a thing, such a joining, could not be undone by the whims of a fair-weather entity with delusions of grandeur. The Worm was an echo of ambition. A wisp of smoke that had once been a blazing bonfire. Within that…Shadow, lay the aspirations of many a Sith. That was the trick.

The heinous, truth. The Worm preached the same profanity as any Jedi.

Hope.

Pale primrose lips moved in a cursed language that never rose beyond that of a whisper. As if the sound of her own voice over a certain decibel might break her concentration. Little, by little, she chipped at the invisible bindings that were specifically designed to keep her from Odavessa. The metaphysical wails that rang through the Force began to echo in her mind. Louder, louder. The closer she came to piercing the veil the Dark God had created.

It took every ounce of training she had not to react. Not to scream. Not to break something in sheer frustration of being nailed uselessly to the floor. She had been delegated to the table designed for younglings lest she manage to remind Maliphant of who he really was.

Who they were.

The utter agony of her other half was searing. Blinding. The transition, the change, whatever it was that the Worm was putting Maliphant through was erasing him. She could feel it when pieces of his soul were sloughed off like dust blowing away from a grindstone. He was being reduced. Remade.

"…Maliphant…Please…Help me…"

Help me, help you. Help me, save you. They were always stronger together. Little more evidence was required than the way a golden ring burned around her finger. Pulsating and shaking. It was being denied the very reason it was made. As, was she. When the moment finally came it was unexpected. She had expected the Worm to break first. Always. No, it was not the Emperor that let her pass.

It was blood.

His blood.

Any shred of compassion died in her eyes the very moment something red-hot and cauterizing sliced through the flesh of the one she so adored. He had no equal; Existed in a state that was beyond compare. Not because of his wealth, nor his power, but simply because he understood. Because he took the time to hear her when the galaxy remained deaf. He saw her. All of her—And that was something she would spend an eternity repaying him for.

Her ring activated suddenly and in the span of a breath, she was pulled through the Night Road. Toward his heartbeat. When she arrived at the ritual site on Odavessa among the Emperor, the remnants of the Sepulchral, the sycophants, and the Jedi it was not with visible fanfare and smoke but with an aching fury of a cold snap rushing in. Her arms slid around the torso of the falling man from behind and she cradled the…parts…of Maliphant while they fell to the ground together. There; Not there.

She simply was.

"Melmenya…*" (*My love…)

Her near-silent speech was barely audible but the pain she radiated was only intensified by the fact that she saw nothing. No one else, in the room. Only him. Her hands quickly grew slick with his lifeblood and there was the vain thought that she might be able to hold the broken halves of him together. Both from his wounds—And from the ritual. Repair him. Knit his flesh, sew his veins, and mend wounded organs. She held the desire to bridge the gap between their minds as they always had. To find him, among all this darkness. To undo what had been done. And yet…Something within him had changed.

It would not allow her.

The white-haired woman felt her perfect mask of indifference slip for a moment. There was no scream. No shout. Merely, a moment in which loss manifested itself in such a poignant way that it could not help being felt. The moment was gone in seconds. The scant, short, fleeting expression of humanity became buried beneath the woman she had become out of sheer necessity. Silvery eyes bled into burnished gold while an unforgiving gaze lifted toward Valery Noble .

While the true fault would always lay with the Worm it was obviously her hand that had placed Maliphant in her arms, this way. The scent of cauterization and ozone was still heavy in the air. The woman, the hero, who left manipulated men bleeding at her feet would find no expression more telling, nor, more terrifying. Srina did not exude the same ancient dark that the Emperor did. She was not the voice of a thousand Sith, vying for control.

She was something else. Other. Perhaps, in some ways, far worse.

The Worm was right about one thing. Just, one.

This was hallowed ground.

The Echani pulled on the Force, weaving, and the very essence of it wrapped around the pair in the same way that armor would slide into place. One black lock, one-piece, snapping where it belonged after the other. There was almost a sound to it—Ominous, that it was. Srina drew on the shadow, the rotten flame, that had risen, and the Dread Queen made certain that her position was known. Her voice was not her own. The multi-faceted bass and soprano ground out words around what seemed to be a throat full of broken glass.

"…He is dying."

Her world was dying. Maliphant had seconds, perhaps. The rings they wore hummed in unison. This was it. Their purpose. To unite them one final time, for one moment, to find peace—Before the end. "Run from me until his heart stops. When it does…"

Srina did not continue. No need. Instead, she pressed telekinetic shields down on his wounds. His missing arm. His…His everything. She sought to buy time to find a way. To defy death as they had always done. To live through any maelstrom. Her arms held him tighter…Even as he slipped away. As if somehow, that would help. As if his lifeforce wasn't slipping through her hands like sand through to the bottom of an hourglass… "*Ala-undómë… Amin langian a' lle." (*Even in your twilight, I belong to you.)

 

[Jax Thio]

Location: Odessa
Equipment: Jedi Robes, Jax's Prosthetic Arm, Jax's Second Lightsaber, Promise Ring to Jairdain
Tag: Darth Carnifex


The Jedi Master dodged the initial strikes by the Worm Emperor subtly shifting his body with each strike before blocking Carnifex's slash which aimed for his head. Carnifex is huge but what stood out to Jax was how fluid his attacks were. Carnifex was moving like a person half his size as fast as man ought to be. Jax felt himself being pushed back by the randomized attack pattern initiated by Carnifex however, he managed shunt the blade aside and backflipped creating distance from Carnifex.

"The thing is Dad," a smirk formed on Jax's face. "My knee doesn't bend so easily."

The Jedi Master raised his hand back channeling the Force before unleashing a large telekinetic push trying to at least stagger Carnifex.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Alina Tremiru Darth Strosius Wyatt Morga​

For all his flaws, Alisteri Haxim had certain good qualities. The first of all were obedience, the second was his ability to make people follow him. If only she could rid him of blind obedience, he would make a great Lord of the Sith some day. For now, that obedience would be what helped save what could be saved.

The Jedi had won today, but the Sith would survive.

She would make certain of it.

The mist of the half-dead coalesced into tendrils, like rivers of blood running through the air. They seeped into the Sith still standing, into Ophidia, into Alisteri, and -if she accepted- Alina. By the death and suffering of the weak, the strong would be healed and strengthened.

Through the din of the fight, Ophidia only barely caught Alina’s words. Were it her own apprentice, then she would have spoken with urgency, now she saved her effort to the task at hand.

Wyatt gripped Ophidia’s wrist and attempted to throw her, but the Pale Assassin twisted with the motion instead. Like a serpent, she coiled and contorted. Then, when the energy was spent, she sprang back in action. The blade hidden on her off-hand lashed out against Wyatt’s wrist, aiming to debilitate him with the venom-coated blade.

She sensed his attention directing toward her legs and moved to comensate. She did not so much try to halt the motion as she redirected it upward. Her left hand lashed out again, this time seeking to grab a hold of Wyatt’s collar while she circled to the back. Her leg sought the back of his knee to destabilise him as she brought the bloodshine blade back down against his neck.