Dominion Pt. 3 - Providence | GA Dominion of Brentaal IV

[Jin Lesoon]

Objective: The Only Thing They Fear
Location: Brentaal IV, Cormund City

reinforcement coming just hang on

"Ryyk Squad & Fyrnock Squad Din Marren can hear me, this is Jedi master jin with the 132nd rangers. hold on to your position, were coming" says a nervous and calm Jedi master jin whos equipping his lightsaber with the experimental focus crystals and tells to his ranger, "alright rangers, this is what you have been train for. Our objective is too provide support for the Ryyk Squad & Fyrnock Squad in Cormund City, we have lost communications with them and we don't where they are but we do know where landed and will be using 3 LAAT gunships. 2 of which will carry infantry and the other one will be carrying and HAAT. understood men?!"

"yes sir" tells the confident men who are equipping their blasters with the experimental focus crystals and boarding the LAAT with jedi master jin and excited with fighting with a jedi after all they always hear stories of the old republic and famous jedi masters from their parents and there doing one last prayer and eating with drinking for the last time and writing letter and holograms to their loves ones and encouraging themselves that this fight for the alliance the last crew board LAAT that's is equip with a HAAT.

The 3 LAATs takes from the cargo of a star destroyer to Cormund City, "pilot open the side doors!" says master jin "yes sir" says the pilot. the side doors of the LAAT open. "Alright troopers open fire, provide covering fire for our boys who are trap!" says master jin. the troop open fire on the enemy and fires missiles on the enemy. "Commander Din Marren clear the landings were putting down our HAAT 'RAG" and landing our first five man squad rangers!" says master jin.

the LAAT 'PLO' lands and five rangers pulls out and begin covering fire and the HAAT 'RAG' lands down and the HAAT begin firing its cannon at the enemy providing covering fire and launching the enemy into the sky. the LAAT 'SHAK' in the sky is providing air support and firing missiles at the enemy

after the fire fight, the LAAT 'SHAK' lands

 

[Olen Halcorr]

Objective I - Unto the Breach
Location - Hell, Brentaal IV, Bormea Sector
Unit - Twin Suns Squadron
Starfighter - Enhanced X-Wing
TAGS:
Cassius Callaesar Westenra Mina Kathryn Foster Yarost Marae Tavlar Rik Perris Maynard Treicolt Loske Treicolt

It was horrible. Olen had been to Brentaal IV with his parents when he was much younger and remembered a prosperous and beautiful world. This was nothing like that, it seemed like a place where spirits came to rot and souls came to die, them included. A certain coldness washed over his body, despite him wearing his cold-weather flight suit and headpiece under his helmet. This frigid feeling was not like the one that'd you'd have on an ice planet, but a deeper, maybe even spiritual iciness. Trying to snap out of it, he made ready to report in.

"This is Twin Suns Leader standing by, all wings accounted for, Admiral."

There was much less confidence in his head than there was in his voice as he reported his status to the commanding officer of the hastily formed battlegroup.

He flicked a switch to turn on his primary sensor systems, but to no avail, backup power seemed to work for a time, but he knew that he'd mostly have to rely on his instincts. Staring out into the beyond, he felt as if hundreds of tiny glowing eyes were peering at him, peering into his soul. It was unnerving to say the least, then the voices came. He tried his best to block them out, but they still remained, trying to eat at him, he wouldn't let them.

"Twin Suns Leader to Saber Leader, we're moving into position, looks like we're going in blind, we'll be keeping in touch, good luck out there."

"Lock S-foils in attack positions." He hit a button on the panel to his right as the ship took its iconic 'X' shape with a hydraulic noise.

The starfighter pilot looked to his portside, seeing something inhuman pulsating in his peripheral vision. "Watch it people, marks everywhere, keep it tight." He ordered, pulling the wing up and going into a dive roll as even his targeting computer couldn't even properly lock on to a single target. Hitting the trigger, red darts of laserfire left his cannons, somewhat illuminating the way.. a eureka moment soon came into his head.

"Use your laser cannons to illuminate the way if you've got low vision." He almost barked into his headcom, hoping that most of his pilots heard. A deafening scream was his first response, as he witnessed an explosion erupt around two klicks away. Not good.

Still diving, he pulled up into a ninety degree loop before snaprolling his X-Wing off to the right. Pulling the yoke back around, he set up for another run on the hellspawn before a large target came towards him in almost a slapping position. Seemingly a large arm with a mangled hand and razor sharp claws on the end, it was the stuff of night terrors. He nudged the stick to his aft bringing the X-Wing out of the path of the arm and coming around it. Taking a look at it, it was a sickly green colour and the wealth of veins pulsed oddly, unlike any being he'd ever seen before. The Y-Wings soon arrived to start their bombing runs which was a breath of fresh air for him.

Hoping that they were out of the worst for now, a winged creature shot past him and latched onto the X-Wing flying with him and brought it down swiftly, turning his sight back the front panel of his transparisteel canopy, he noticed even more of the winged beasts heading in droves towards them. This was not according to plan, none of this went with the plan.

Letting off more blasts from his cannons to get some visual, he shot up the throttle as he braced himself. "Marks at bearing six-seven-eighty, point three five, move to intercept."

Lurching forward, he took some potshots at the new enemies, taking one down as it dropped dramatically, though another replaced it quickly. This was going to be extremely hard fought.

 

[Leon Gallo]

Objective: A T E R R I B L E F A T E
tags: Ryv Auteme A Aeris Oceiros Sunstrider Jacen Nimdok
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Leon barely noticed the pilots informing them of the approaching drop zone. His concentration broke for a moment, and he looked around at those he was dropping with. He had met only two of them before, Ryv and Auteme, though he knew neither of them well. The others were all new faces to the Jedi. He knew he could trust Ryv. One didn't become the Sword of the Jedi without being both a skilled fighter and a bastion of light. His presence helped calm Leon's mind before the doors opened. Leon muttered a quick "Force be with us," before he jumped.


When Leon hit the ground, there were three things that he noticed immediately. With his mind still open, he could feel the immense storm of dark emotions cared by the spirits of the dead. Plenty for him to channel towards the monster who did this to them. The land itself was different from when he'd last been to Brentaal. The sky was a strange hue, similar to what he'd seen in the Field of Blades. Mountains had been torn from the ground towards a single point--where they were now. Lastly, Leon felt a sense of dread come over him. They were near the monster. The armored humanoid he'd seen dueling a Jedi during the evacuation. Goosebumps hit him, and he felt sick. To steady himself and drive off the dread, Leon opened himself further to the spirits, and he took his new lightsaber into his hand. The brilliant sapphire blade erupted from the crimson hilt, almost daring the Jedi to lunge at his target the moment it came into view.

 

[Constantine Oliva]

Objective: Into the Breach
tags: Cassius Callaesar Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Westenra Mina Olen Halcorr Zahara Myneto

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It had begun. The flashes of ship-based weaponry--a mix of blues, greens, and reds--blended with the vibrant colors surrounding the fleet. So far his line had been lucky enough to avoid attacks by anything larger than a fighter. The creatures that had attacked had been easy to kill with a single turret. From what the Commodore could tell, many ships weren't so lucky. Constantine would not hesitate to order an individual ship to pull back if they took too much damage, though he would not do so for himself. He'd made a promise, and he intended to keep it.

A voice entered his mind. It taunted him, hitting him with a wave of terror and panic. Constantine dug his nails into his palms and shut his eyes to try and steel himself. It was so loud-louder than anyone should have been there. Then it started to laugh. The laughing echoed in his head, panicking the young commodore even more. He wanted to run. He wanted to turn around and run all the way back to Anaxes, to abandon this suicide mission now. He opened his eyes for a moment, ready to order his crew to do so, and he saw they all heard it too. They were terrified. Each member of the bridge crew was shaking, pale, or generally panicked. Constantine looked down, seeing his knuckles were whiter than a sheet of paper. He became aware of the pain from digging his short nails into his palms. He didn't stop, but he steadied himself. His men needed him to inspire them, now possibly more than they ever would. His voice shook at first, but grew louder and more confident until he was practically shouting just to be heard.

"Gran, get me a channel to the rest of the line."
Push on. If we fail the rest of the galaxy will face these terrors. They will not be prepared. They will come to your homes, to your families, and they will destroy everything they come across. The only way we can end this threat is by stopping them here. To do that, we need to push deeper in to find their source. Do you want to be remembered as the men who broke? The men who doomed the Galaxy? No. Push on, and be the men who saved it. I am ordering all ships to push deeper into the nebula. Stay just behind the fighter screen. Push!"

His comms officer, Gran, had managed to open the channel just before Constantine's short speech to rally his men. The rest of the bridge crew, though still visibly shaken, turned back to their duties. Across Commodore Oliva's line, similar scenes unfolded. Men on the verge of complete shut down, turned back to their duties. They'd fight on, even if they were scared. Constantine himself was spurred on by his words, though he was still terrified. His nails continued to dig into his palms, hurting enough to make the man visibly wince. He didn't stop, however, as the pain helped distract him and keep his mind on the battle and leading his men onward. Hawk took the front of the v-shaped formation his line took, moving to be just behind the fighters scouting for the fleet.

 

[Zahara Myneto]

Location // ASV Liberator, Hell (I Assume) //
Objective // Into the Breach //
Tags // Constantine Oliva Cassius Callaesar Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Olen Halcorr Westenra Mina

The laughter shook him to his core. It made him question his purpose, his very existence. And for one brief moment he allowed himself to imagine, not if the fleet lost, but if they couldn't destroy all of these creature?

And that truly scared him.

The Admiral faced his Executive Officer, and with a brief exchange of nods, they knew what had to be done. "Comms, Open a Channel to the fleet. Broadband"

"Aye, Captain"

Zahara readjusted himself in the Captains chair of the Star Defender, straitening his uniform.

"Attention All Commands, this is Admiral Myento of the Liberator, and I know exactly what you feel. Fear. Uncertainty. I know, ai feel it too. What is it? The pressure, the possibility of us losing. But I guarantee you...we shall not falter. Not today. Not tommorw. Not ever! This may be a demon but it us who shall unleash the fires of hell"

He turned away from the Holo-Projector, and instantaneously the image of the Bridge of the Liberator was replaced with the Starbird of the Alliance. "Onwards to Victory" He said quietly resettling back into his seat.

"Someone get me High Admiral Cassius Callaesar . We need to get orders, we need to show a untited front. And I know I shouldn't be saying this but he needs to micromanage"

He smiled at the last part before ordering the Liberator to open fire, still waiting for the comm line.

 

[Westenra Mina]

(BFG Division by Mick Gordon Plays)

'Lana' locked her wings into cruise mode, diverting as much power as she dared into her Anti-Personnel Cannon and engines. She was gonna stress her X-Wing. She was gonna push her crimson killing machine to its limits.

The Android Felt the deep, scary voice in her mind, felt its intense evil and perversion, and developed a better sense of mortality.

This place was strange. Beyond strange. Totally dark nearly. Olen suggested the cannons to illuminate the darkness. Westenra unfortunately could see everything due to her enhanced vision.

(Cutaway of the T-1000 'flooding' the helicopter.)

Something horrific flew past them, then another something took out a fighter.

Olen Halcorr soon sighted hostiles and Westenra began covering him, her enhanced vision allowing her to compensate for what her targeting computer could not and high powered fire began shredding into anything that even looked like it could threaten the flight path of Halcorr, executing dangerous flips and spins to evade the creatures attempting to latch on as a lethal rain of red tears lit up the darkness, doing evasion maneuvers no normal human could ever hope to survive. That's part of the reason she was such a deadly fighter pilot, not only could she think and reason independent of her programming but most pilots out there just could not match her turns.

Westenra had pissed off a whole bunch of whatever was flying outside, and inbetween evading swarms of monsters she saw one about to latch onto a Y-Wing and dived, blasting it to pieces, before executing a U-Turn back into the swarm, opening her foils fully and unloading a massive barrage of lasers into the swarm blasting them to pieces, bolts taking out multiple monsters at once.

"Everybody's all 'Evil Murder-Beast' until an X-Wing fires." The Biot joked, deciding to try out her new programming, stretching out an artificial mind and reaching out, attempting to psychically empower her team with better coordination and reflexes.

"The only thing better than frying monsters from beyond with lasers is looking cool while doing it. By the way, these things are a little slow on the uptake. You can get a whole bunch chasing you if you are aggressive enough. Outright naked aggression seems to be the best strategy against them. If you're gonna be crazy enough to enter a place like this at least fly like it."

Westenra continued to cover Olen, viciously blasting them apart with her Anti-Personnel cannons as she went back to cruise mode.

"Gotta be a real 'Blood for The Blood God, Skulls for The Skull Throne' sort in this place..." she muttered as she continued flying and ripping and tearing...

Kathryn Foster

Yarost

Cassius Callaesar

Constantine Oliva

Maynard Treicolt

Rik Perris

Marae Tavlar

Loske Treicolt

 

[Oceiros Sunstrider]

// SUNSTRIDER //
// OBJECTIVE // A Terrible Fate
// FOCUS // Gideon Raith (Arcanus Sunstrider) | A Aeris | Ryv | Auteme | Bernard of Arca | Jacen Nimdok | Leon Gallo
// THEME // Future Heroes

Walking up the cascading stairway of salt flats, Oceiros found his attention drawn to the sky a myriad of signatures began to appear. Above beacons of the force moved towards the fight that awaited them all, a fight for more than just Brentaal but perhaps for the galaxy as a whole. Who was Oceiros to even stand amongst them? To think he could make a difference? Doubt, fear, jealousy began to eat at the heart of the epicanthix. It sought to devour him, to break him and mold him into the same people who’d stolen his home.

The weight of countless millions, perhaps billions laid in the balance of what happened on this day, in the decisions made, the actions taken. Oceiros knew this and that weight bore down on him, halting the warrior in his path. The epicanthix’s feet felt as though they were melded to the salt flat, his eyes rising further across the sea and the expanse that lay before him. A chill, a deep cold sunk into Oceiros’ being as his knees buckled and gave way leaving him to collapse. The realization of what sat before Oceiros becoming an overbearing presence that drove him closer and closer to the ground.

“What am I supposed to do? I’m not like you, I wasn’t trained like you. I’m not a Jedi, I’m not a hero.” Fist hammering into the salt flat Oceiros felt his flesh throbbing with pain. Again and again he drove his hand into the platform trying to bash out those emotions that held him back. To clear his mind of the mental anguish and fill it with something physical. As the fist hammered down one last time it was caught in an ethereal grip.

Staring up Oceiros no longer only felt Arcanus but saw him. An almost otherworld blue covered the beings form, a stern look crossing the other’s features. Lowering the younger Sunstrider's hand to the ground gently, one of Arcanus’ ghostly appendages patted Oceiros on the shoulder before looking back up and towards the Salt flats.

“There will be many challenges, there will be times where you’ll feel useless. There will even be those that push you to the brink. All that matters is when they come you rise. Most of all,” Leaning in the ghostly apparition’s lips drew near Oceiros’ ear. “You’re a Sunstrider and we never surrender.”

Those words came with it a power, a power beyond Oceiros’ own that pulled the epicanthix to his feet. Looking around Oceiros searched for that same apparition that had been there mere seconds before to find nothing. Reaching up and seizing his chest Oceiros started moving once more. He was not alone, he was not a nobody. He may not be Arcanus, he may never be a great duelist like him, may never reach the heights of the other. Those things didn’t matter, all that mattered was he did the duty of a Sunstrider. Whether in the face of darkness, or facing against the forces of tyranny and malevolence. He simply had to give it his all.

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Objective III: A Terrible Fate

Wielding: Valenthyne Farfalla’s lightsaber (modified with experimental crystal)

OOC: While I will be posting with Nimdok’s sub account, in this thread I am operating as Nimdok’s alter ego, Casimir Heliobas.

***

The Jedi were deployed onto a platform that seemed to have formed overnight from the landscape. An unnaturally precise staircase of salt flats led up to their foe’s lair. One of the men, Oceiros Sunstrider , seemed to suffer a nervous breakdown mere minutes after they arrived, collapsing on the platform and smashing his fist into the raw stone, rambling about how he was neither a Jedi nor a hero.

Heliobas frowned. It was too late to turn back now. He stepped toward the man. “Get up,” he commanded, his booming voice echoing in spite of the wind and rumble of disturbed rocks. “It doesn’t matter whether you are a Jedi or not. But if you get up now, you will have a chance.”

He wasn’t sure if the man heard him. Something else seemed to distract him, pulling him to his feet and giving him the courage to go on.

Heliobas looked around at his fellow Jedi. All of them were young, in some cases barely out of their teens. There was Ryv , already a hero many times over. Battle had scarred him, forged his mettle into a steel resolve and determination. Auteme the bookworm seemed out of place, but perhaps she would endure her own trial by fire here. And Leon Gallo , the most difficult to read among the group, already had his lightsaber drawn, eager to fight.

The Shi’ido took out his own saber. It was a stolen Jedi artifact that had once been wielded against Darth Bane and his apprentice, but none of them knew that. The blade that ignited from the engraved hilt was gold.

“Into the belly of the beast,” Heliobas muttered. “Since I seem to be the oldest one here, I will go first.”

Turning toward the steps, he began to ascend. As he climbed, a worried voice only he could hear muttered:

<Try not to get either of us killed.>

A Aeris

 

[Bernard of Arca]

Objective II
A Terrible Fate
Actors: Oceiros Sunstrider A Aeris Ryv Auteme Jacen Nimdok Leon Gallo

Bernard's jacket was fluttering violently in the wind as he fell. He'd rushed out of the gunship so hastily that it had slipped his mind the thing might fly loose had he not fastened the repulsor vest over it. The wind howled loud enough to drown out his thoughts. He was dropping towards the centre of darkness directly. Down below the stone platforms had become more than just a blurry mess of grey and brown. The chunks of rock ripped from the mountain range seemed frozen into a perpetual meteoric descent. They formed a spiral pattern around a central platform, atop which the Heir of Darkness stood.

That was Bernard's target. Anticipation was building in him, mixing with fear and anger. This effort might be a futile outburst of emotion spurred on by a faulty chain of logic, but following the revelations of the encounter on Ragoon that didn't matter much anymore. Especially not when he was already so close to his pathway to redemption. He tapped the vest's activation switch to start slowing his descent.

The sudden jolt of the repulsor vest activating was strong enough to knock the wind out of his lungs. Though it was only gradually slowing the speed of his descent, it was by no means a gentle transition. However, the pressure of the wind crashing against his frame began to let up soon after.

His hand wandered to the sabre attached to his utility belt, readying it for the moment he was close enough.

It was a bit of a miracle that he'd kept on course as well as he had. With the black hole, the unpredictable winds, and his own inexperience with situations like these, flight path adjustments with the Force had been tricky at best. However, they had been sufficient. The central platform now sat in his direct path, and its sole occupant stood alone, focused on something far off and not Bernard. The Force, or luck, seemed to be on his side.

Yet he couldn't summon any hope or draw satisfaction from that fact. What determination he once held was shattered, allowing for doubt to slip by and weaken his resolve. Only duty still drove him, and half-heartedly at that. The cold metal of his sabre gave some measure of reassurance, at least, as he clutched it tighter in his clawed digits. He freed it from its maglock, the moment of truth drawing tangibly close, and he could swear to have heard the howl of a gunship above the wind, but didn't dare to draw his attention away from his target for fear of being swept away in the chaos.

Only a few moments more and he was upon the Heir of Darkness. The entity was imposing and enigmatic, entirely encased in armour reminiscent of organic matter that appeared massive enough to weigh tons. Would a lightsabre even pierce that?

Bernard shook away the thought. There was no room for doubt now. He thumbed the activation switch of his sabre and turned his body to dive towards the platform feet-first. He held the sabre with both hands as he waited for the moment he'd fallen enough to carry out the attempt on the entity's life.

His heart skipped a beat as he crossed ten metre's range. Only fractions of seconds remained before impact.​

 

[Aeris]

Brentaal IV // Suporro Sea
Objective III - A Terrible Fate
Ryv Auteme Oceiros Sunstrider Leon Gallo Jacen Nimdok Bernard of Arca


A transport approaches with the kiffar aboard, as it was foreseen.

Abaddon could feel the others drawing near as well, scaling the platforms that danced around the centerpiece of this world's inevitable end. Distance footsteps scuffing against salt as they leap and land, working their way to his position. All the while, the hum of the shuttle's engine grows louder.

When he finally feels the presence of the Jedi warriors within drop from the ramp to take arms against him, Abaddon's left hand twists away from the growing void to point an armoured palm toward the fleeing vessel. The transparisteel windows of the cockpit shatter outward from the inertia, and the shuttle's frame creaks and bends as the starship is forced to an abrupt and immediate stop in the air.

The abomination's head finally shifts from its focus, looking up to craft suspended in the air by his will and the Jedi falling toward him. There would be no escape for those who had come.

He quickly balls his hand into a fist, watching the transport mirror the action with little effort, compacting in on itself to form a smooth orb of metal. In a seamless action, the armour-clad titan spins his body with surprising speed and grace to face the ones approaching from the floating stairway. He casts his right arm forward as he comes to a stop, and with the motion the metal ball he'd formed launches forward. It purposely soars between the Jedi, shattering through the stones they'd used to reach his central position; trapping them with him high above the restless waters of the raging sea.

As the each piece of the floating pathway begins to erupt, the gnarled hilt of his corrupted lightsaber unclips from his belt and zips into his still outstretched hand. A snap-hiss echoes as the cyan blade ejects, laced with sparking verdant energy. The crackling of the unstable Chaotic power synchronizes with the blade's deep-toned hum as the Champion spins the saber in his hand.

Abaddon takes a single step back, moving from where he could sense Bernard would land. Throwing his saber into a wide arc to try and keep those already surrounding him at bay, the juggernaut reaches up with his off-hand and takes a hold of the Padawan's ignited blade before it can connect with him. A deep scoff comes from behind the titan's bulky helmet as Bernard dangles from the hilt, and smoke begins to rise from the gauntlet as it slowly burns through the strange, chitinous plating.

Hearing his spinning blade on the return, he tosses the Padawan toward his companions and arcs his body to snatch his weapon out of the air. Letting the wide-bladed saber come to a resting position at his side, the hulking being looms a few meters ahead of the group, waiting. He knew they'd come to challenge his judgement.

"Your defiance will not go unpunished, Jedi," the words reverberate around each of them, "Not even death will set you free. The Mists cannot hide you; you will never escape us."

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Objective 1 - Unto the Breach // Brentaal IV //
Saber Squadron // X-Wing //
Maynard Treicolt // Olen Halcorr // Rik Perris // Westenra Mina // Cassius Callaesar // Constantine Oliva
DANGER ZONE​

Her scope was aglow with airborne ghouls. Inhabitants of this metaphysical realm they’d somehow managed to pierce with their very solid vehicles. Orbiting around their formations, wretched creatures with skull-like ridges latticed around their spines and with talons as long as the wings of her fighter. Some had wings, others seemed to ride invisible currents to keep aloft. Some serpentlike, others dragon-ish, some were solidified representations of the void they navigated. There were varying degrees of treachery and complexity, all of them terrible.

The targeting triage flashed red as a foolhardy creature intercepted Loske’s pathway, threatening to T-bone her. She clenched down on her trigger, and a short burst of emerald skittered against the wing of the creature. It caterwauled, veering to the side and almost more in her path.

<Good to know the scales of ridiculousness are still tipped the same.> She veered sharply, twisting to port side so the belly of her fighter flashed against the gnashing jaws of a creature that exploded as a result of Saber-6’s sharp shooting over her S-foil. <You think they’re in cahoots with the Bryn’s engineering team?>

Frank found little amusement from the pilot’s chatter, and reduced the impact of Loske’s volume over the rest of the team’s channels so they wouldn’t be distracted by unthinking blabbing.

Saber-8 dipped up from beneath, accelerating in ascension toward the belly of the beast. The pilot within released a short volley of crystal-enhanced bolts and….

The creature exploded in a brilliant exhibition of glowing liquid.

At first, it was gross. The initial reaction quickly turned to abject horror and puffed a gasp from Loske’s lungs. The gasp was overridden by the shocked, pained shriek from Saber-8. The liquid vapourizing into the would-be-skies sizzling and burning through the titanium alloy of the hull and into the armoured cockpit. Acidic venom poured over the helmet and lap of the pilot, searing through the flesh in a burning sensation. The shower didn’t stop as the carcass slammed against the rooftop of the quickly disintegrating X-Wing.

<I---Ah! I have to ejec--!!> The screams were hoarse, as if the words were turning to ash over their shared communication system.

Loske wanted to scream not to eject. Her voice didn’t come before Frank interrupted.

<Hold on. Borrowing power from life support to amplify comm connection. You’re going to start to feel a chill.>

A cold that hadn’t been there before slowly crept through the fabric of her flight suit, and Loske suppressed a shudder. It was reminiscent of the cold that had eclipsed Brentaal before. To feel the drop in temperature and look outside to see a brilliant red backdrop to a hellscape was disorienting and disconnected.

As a whole, it was like watching a terror flick. The focus of the next interaction was directed by a sadistic filmmaker. The silhouette of Saber-8 projected from their seat, residual drips showering behind her and floating around in the clouds for a handful of seconds before a secondary creature intercepted and captured the pilot in their jaws. Dinner.

Eyes bugged out at the scene, and she frantically skittered her hands over the dashboard. <Keep your distance after kills! Let's watch for their spits, keep them off our dreadnoughts.> Channel shift. <Frank! That acid venom stuff, whatever, can you trace it if I get you close enough? Maybe see which creatures are more venomous than others?>

Meanwhile, the droid forwarded the recording of the interaction back to the larger ASVs behind them.

<Maybe.>

The pilot nudged her vessel forward, looking to get a bioscan of the residual, deathly liquid.

<How close do I need to get?>

<Closer.>

 

[Gat Tambor]

// GAT "SSD" TAMBOR //
// OBJECTIVE //: Skako | I brought my own!
// FOCUS //: No one!

---

---

---

Y U N G _ S K A K O
F O R E S T _ S O U N D S

"The Galaxy has given me a great deal...however I would be foolish to forsake what made me who I am." Tambor admitted to the Chief Elder.

"Has it been given to you...or have you taken it?" He retorted, arching a brow to his outlander counterpart. Those pale eyes staring into the despicable amber gaze of Gat Tambor. They'd always been a mysterious machination, no one could recall if they'd always been that way or something...otherworldly made it so. Thus this made Gat scorned as a youth among the reclusive Skakoan society. But his brilliance could not be denied, in the most valuable intellectual arenas on Skako, Tambor flourished.

"Taken or not...I have what I have...and I am grateful." As Director of the Trade Federation. He had a great deal.

"Perhaps...your counterpart in the Senator has done a great deal to integrate our people into this Galactic Alliance...and yet here you, the man vowed to do right by Skako up and leaves to unknown regions...to consort with Imperials." The Chief Elder continues to prod and provoke at the industrialist, but he remains stoic.

"Opportunity comes in many forms, Elder. You would be wise enough to know this." Gat retorts, growing impatient.

"It does...for you? Seemingly everywhere but your people. And yet you claim to care for the Skakoan so deeply."

"It would be either seize what the Galaxy has to offer...or rot here...as the rest have." Gat says, his voice dipped in shades of venom, bitterness.

"Perhaps...though the Book was wrong the last it incited one of us to leave. It resulted in the death in one of your Clan as a matter of fact. One of your ancestors. If I have any guidance for you...it would be...to come home. Please." That bitterness is then replaced with a deep sorrow, a deep worry for Tambor.

"Perhaps..." Gat mutters inconclusively.

 

[Ryv]

// Objective // A Terrible Fate //
// Location // Brentaal IV // Suporo Sea //
// Focus // A Aeris // Loske Treicolt // Maynard Treicolt //
// Leon Gallo // Jacen Nimdok // Oceiros Sunstrider // Bernard of Arca //

​

Through a narrowed gaze, Ryv watched the salt flat's and floating earthen platforms grow larger. It was as if he could hear the thunderous beating of his heart ringing within his ears, somehow louder than the buffeting winds racing past him. It bit at his flesh, an eerie cold slithering against every inch of him as he descended, drawing tears from his already stinging eyes. Deep breaths delivered a sense of calm to his mind, something he utilized to carefully slow his descent and direct his perception onto the distant titan. It wasn't fear he felt in facing Abaddon. Nor rage, hatred, or apathy. Something else gnawed at the Jedi Knight's mind, something akin to confusion. He barely recognized the creature, as if whatever memories he held of the monstrosity lacked any real substance. Why couldn't he draw on their initial engagement? Why couldn't he remember the final moments leading up their defeat on Brentaal IV so long ago?

As the floating mound of rock enveloped the entirety of his vision, the Kiffar shook away the momentary lapse in conversation. He reached out with his mind, guiding the everpresent flow of the Force to his aid, carefully enwrapping his form as if the mystical power were a blanket. His feet hit the ground first, followed by knees bent to allow him to press forward into a practiced roll. Gracefully coming back onto both feet, Ryv looked back over his shoulder to where he heard the sound of their dropship folding in on itself. His eyes widened in utter shock as the ball of smooth metal crashed against the rocky bridge that once floated between the titan and their escape. Power wasn't something unfamiliar to him, but feats such as Abaddon's far outweighed anything he'd seen since his time taking up the mantle of Jedi once more. He followed Leon up the sloping rock, the Blade of Ruusan exploding from its hilt in a display of spiraling, cyan light.

Before Ryv could make further headway, the sight of Bernard's hasty attack caught his eye. "Dude!" he called out in shock. "This isn't the plan!" he charged forward, ready to engage Abaddon to create enough space for Bernard's retreat. Instead, Ryv quickly deactivated his saber and squared his footing, arms extended to welcome the flying Arkanian. The sheer strength behind the fiend's offhanded toss sent Ryv sliding back a few steps before Bernard's momentum carried the Kiffar from his feet, sending both tumbling head through the rocky surface. Grunts escaped the Jedi Knight as he tried to catch himself, both hands reaching out for anything to steady him, only for gloved fingers to claw uselessly at the dirt and loose rock. Pain wracked Ryv's body through each subtle impact until suddenly, there was nothing. His eyes shot open, nothing but open air between him and a downward descent to a choking death. His left hand shot out, cybernetic fingers digging into the edge of the platform. His body swung back, slamming into the side of the uneven surface, though he managed to keep his grip.

"I just," Ryv grumbled, a hand reaching up to take hold of the ledge. "I already don't like this," he slowly dragged himself back up, eyes finding Abaddon amid the crowd of lightsaber-wielding Force-sensitives. The Kiffar reached out with the Force, summoning the Blade of Ruusan back to his grasp from where it rested upon the dirt. "Okay, buddy, let's get to work," he muttered the words, speaking to the pristine hilt in his hand as he took a step forward, another following suit, his form gaining speed as he dashed towards the looming titan. Rather than leap into the air and attack Abaddon as Bernard did only a moment before, Ryv remained low, his form a speeding bullet as he raced inward. He slid to a halt, his feet kicking up dust and dirt as he swung up with all his might for the creature's midsection, hoping to cleave through the obsidian armor in one fell stroke of the blade.

The crackling blue saber, wrapped in surging green energy, met the Blade of Ruusan. Ryv's mighty weapon practically screaming out in retaliation as the Ashla's energy clashed with the power's of primal Chaos. Ryv felt himself swiftly driven downward, falling to a knee as Abaddon's overwhelming strength bore downward. The Kiffar bit down, summoning the Force to his aid, his physical strength doubled as he managed to push back up. He wasn't the same scared, gangly Jedi Padawan he was when he first met the monster. Time had shaped the Jedi Knight, a war fought for the galaxy's survival, preparing him for this fated encounter. When pain beat him down, it was an unbreaking will that lifted him back up. He pushed back, teeth grit in exertion, eyes locked on the slit's carved from the helmet, peering deep into the creature's eyes.

Two misty green beads of light took the Sword's attention, the light piercing whatever barriers Ryv established to protect his mind. Green mist rose from the armored monstrosity's blade and form, coalescing around the smaller Jedi. It seeped into his body, past the leather jacket, deep into his flesh. He straightened, limbs momentarily outstretched as if lifted by invisible strings. Darkness crept from within him, Ashla's luminescence blocked out by the chaotic being far beyond the battlefield, it's horrendous grip latched onto Ryv's mind, body, and soul. Even the Blade of Ruusan's cyan blade crackled with unnatural green energy, the very same power that burned within the Kiffarn's typically amber gaze.

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Cynthia Alucard, Lieutenant
Objective II: The Only Thing They Fear
Location: Cormond, Capital City
Actions: Assisting Pinned Alliance Soldiers

Spoiler: Equipment:

REC/STA-02 Advanced Shocktrooper Armour; Series Two
REC-DC/03 "Viperwasp" - Pattern Modular Particle Blaster Rifle
REC-VKN/01 "Tekko" - Pattern Vibroknuckler
REC-EFP/01 "Lawgiver" - Pattern Maser Pistol

Cyn moved steadily through the larger rubble, her eyes focused around the darkened corners, her movement sensor was unreliable at best. With so much movement of rubble and explosions, the battlefield was far too chaotic for any reasonable understanding of how to create a coherent battleplan structure. Perhaps this was what Cyn missed the most with Space Combat, there were clear front lines and designated zones for dog-fights between star-fighters.

And here I am, heading deeper into an enemy controlled city.

A sudden movement of shadows caught Cyn’s eye, her hands gripped forward her blaster, tracking to where she saw the movement. Her feet moved her slowly through a different craves of rubble in hopes to force whatever enemy down a straight path. In her mind this would allow her a straight firing line, her briefings had explained these netherworld creatures were quite fierce and moved with speeds that would make open field combat quite disastrous for her.

Seconds turned to moments, and after a few tensed minutes Cyn relaxed her blaster and continued moving with renewed focus and heightened senses. Though it wasn’t long before she nearly jumped at the sound of her comm’s unit blaring into life. An emergency called had been made from nearby Alliance forces, they were calling reinforcements and Cyn paused for a moment.

This was a particular odd situation Cyn found herself in but she also had a mission to fulfill first. Does she choose to help a group of Alliance Soldiers and head forward with her mission, or does she allow herself to get dragged into a different battle that may lead her to never finishing her true objective. This was perhaps the hardest change since joining the Alliance, the difference of tactical instruction given to any Officer. Imperial Doctrine dictated that the mission success was priority above all else, should there be sacrifices needed for such victory then so be it. There was no greater reward or honour than dying for one’s cause.

Even if death could have been avoided for a lesser chance of success.

Cyn drew breath and pushed herself through another crumbled pillar, the building had appeared very office like and ruined desks laid astruned across the floor along with the rest of the debri. The answer was obvious to her now and quickly moved across the collapsed building to reach the Alliance distress call by following the DER.

The sounds of battle grew larger and Cyn realized that the hellspawned creatures were pushing towards the Alliance soldiers. Quickly she paced along the outskirts of the battle, knowing full well that attempting to flank an enemy with superior numbers and unknown strength would only doom her chances of completing her mission.

With cover made certain and her own escape to a different cover located, Cyn drew a bead on a horror winged beast and fired a burst from her blaster rifle. She reflexevily ducked and in time as a large piece of rubble had been hurled towards her direction and Cyn found herself showered with pieces of cement, dust and something else. But she also heard a different sound of more transports swooping in to off load more troops.

Camo Orerig | Din Marren | Trevin Neros | J Jin Lesoon

 

[Olen Halcorr]

Objective I - Unto the Breach
Location - Hell, Brentaal IV, Bormea Sector
Unit - Twin Suns Squadron
Starfighter - Enhanced X-Wing
TAGS:
Cassius Callaesar Westenra Mina Kathryn Foster Yarost Marae Tavlar Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Rik Perris

As of late, Olen hadn't been in a position to take a good look at the grotesque creatures that they were meant to be fighting. Putting power to his repulsors, he pulled up sharply, watching the many little beasts chase down lone fighters who were too mesmerised by the sight to keep their attention spans on avoiding them. His visual scanning seemed to be working in perfect order and so he took advantage of that, relying on his scope as it didn't seem like the monsters were the only hazards they needed to keep an eye out for, they'd chosen a rather rocky and mountains region which means mountains joined the many dangers of this place.

Spotting a large group of nasties around seven klicks east headed for a group of fighters. He peeled away from his stationary position drifting into a descent so that he could join in the incoming bout. Opening up comms with the assumed green pilots. "Watch it flight, group headed towards you at point six four. Twin Suns Seven ( Westenra Mina ), Twin Suns Five, pull in."

"Acknowledged Leader, moving to intercept." A male voice replied through the com system.

The slim figure of an X-Wing soon came into view as Five joined him as the ships descended in a tight arc. He switched his firing mode to quad cannons and started off with a few potshots to disorganise them, despite their clear non sentience, their ability to function as an effective unit, better than even some squadrons, and that was what worried him. The brutish critters seemed to acknowledge their presence but continued on their flight path. Zooming past the group, he wheeled back around opening fire on the rear of the tight formation.

Finally the winged creatures took notice as one of their own tumbled out of the sky, the leader jumped into action shooting a runny greenish-yellow substance from what he presumed was its mouth. He veered out of the way coming up hard to ninety degrees, he locked his strike foils in cruise mode, picking up speed as the enemy went into a steep nosedive, putting out a bloodcurdling scream from the same orifice the green sludge had came out of. Locking his s-foils back into attack position, he pushed the stick down following the enemy down towards the depths. It had seemed he'd taken the bait.

He was instantly alerted as several signals appeared on his visual scanning, it was difficult for him to comprehend how a non sentient creature had managed to lead him into such as trap. Turning momentarily to the back of his X-Wing, the brutes did not seem in close enough range to fire their substances at him. He went into an even steeper nosedive, almost grazing the surface before kicking the X-Wing up into a loop roll. This confused them enough to continue into a nosedive, assuming that he was still diving as he was now out of sight.

Moving into position, his HUD went scarlet with two locks and he hit the trigger, smoking the first and hitting the wing of the second which swerved to port and down towards the surface. More marks seemed to appear on his scope as a raised voice entered his head com, recognising it as Twin Suns Eleven, he listened intently while looking out into the abyss to try and locate his comrade.

"Eleven to Leader, they're on me tight, I can't shake em."

"I see you Eleven, scissor right I'll cover you." He'd located his friend around a klick away, trying to evade quite a few of the nasties.

"I need help I can't shake em- AGHHHH!"

The audio was quickly cut short as a screech ended the transmission. In the distance he saw his friend descend into the surface, a fireball engulfing the ship which vaporised some the pursuers. A gulp formed in his neck as that was another one from his squadron down, he tried not to dwell on the number that had already perished and focused on losing his own pursues, lest he suffer the fate of Eleven.

He gunned the throttle and increased his reactor output, hoping to outrun the horde that was now hot on his tail. Pulling up a display, he noticed there were some tight turns coming up ahead near the tight canyons, he knew the twisty turns would be too much for the larger among his enemies.

Pushing on, he closed his strike foils hugging the canyon and moving into a tight turn to the right. He hoped he'd at least taken one down, a few bleeps and his astromech confirmed that two had taken a tumble into the canyon but he wasn't out of it just yet.

A large rock formation which jutted out of the canyon seemed to be perfect, and just in time as the corrosive spit shot past his cockpit. He locked his strike foils into attack mode once more, opening fire on the formation which sent debris flying, he moved through it though his shields took the brunt of the damage.

<That's most of them down but the last seems to be quite relentless, reminds me of someone I know.> The text from his droid rolled across his display. Weaving and twisting his way through, he slammed the X-Wing to port, cutting his engines which sent him backwards, the creature seemingly overshooting as a Sith fighter would. He sent red darts of lasers towards the creature, vaping it instantly. His comrade in Twin Suns Five was not so lucky as he slammed into the walls of the canyon, regret hitting him hard.

"Twin Suns Seven, let's regroup and head to the main sortie..." He ordered,a hint of surprise at how many they'd lost in his voice. Pulling away and heading back to keep more of the nasties away from their battlecruisers.

 

[Trevin Neros]

Objective II - The Only Thing They Fear
Location: Brentaal IV - Cormond
Team: Nova Fireteam Din Marren Camo Orerig Cynthia Alucard J Jin Lesoon

"That was impressive, even for you Neros"

"You humble me, Sergeant Major." Trevin said with a smirk as they regrouped together. "We could always use an extra hand." He stated to Camo Orerig when he asked for help. Truth be told, he was grateful to see a familiar face. They had worked together before and seeing familiar faces meant a few things. Most importantly, it means they didn't die, and not dying was one of the cornerstones of being a good soldier. Plus he knew that Camo was competent and a veteran and they were going to need all the help they could get to take back the Capital City.

Trevin moved his head into the hole that the monster had created and the hopelessness of the situation really began to sit in. They were outnumbered by an alarming margin. He lifted his carbine and fired off a few shots hitting and dropping one of the fiends. He knew they were big and scary but watching as they fell to the ground and create what amounted to a shockwave of dirt and debris was terrifying. "Well boys, at least we can say we have been in a literal nightmare. That should get a few of the ladies going." He looked toward Drave and even though he could not see behind his mask he knew he was smirking at Trevin.

<<This is Ryyk-1 to all nearby Alliance channels. Ryyk Squad is pinned down with survivors from Fyrnock Squad. We need reinforcements. All primary sensors are still offline; utilize dedicated energy receptors to pinpoint our coordinates. Repeat: Ryyk Squad & Fyrnock Squad requesting reinforcements,>>

Trevin turned to Camo and then looked out and above to see where the coordinates dropped. He grimaced as he realized the LT was pretty far away and it was not going to be easy to get over to him. He kneeled down and looked around wondering the fastest way to get over to him and his eyes landed on one of the transport ships. He looked around at everyone and then he decided on the plan. "Gentleman, lets commandeer one of those transport ships." He pointed with two fingers as the transports that were bringing in more troops were slowly landing.

He sprinted in the direction of one of the transports and wondered if what he was doing would get him arrested. Oh well, the LT said to get to him, he did not say how. At the end of the day he would just chalk it up to following orders. As the ship landed and the troops flooded out, Nova Team and Camo Orerig ( If he was even still with them ) went up the ramp. One of the soldiers ushering troops out hollered at Trevin but he pushed past him and went up into the cockpit. "You need to drop us off at these coordinates." And he sent the drop to the pilot.

"You crazy? That place is infested. We have orders to keep bringing in more soldiers!"

"New orders from Lieutenant Dino, we have to get over there, at all costs." Trevin gently put his hand on his gun, the universal sign for do what I say or else.

"I ain't flying this ship over there. It is a suicide mission." The man glanced down at Trevin's hand and then glared back up at him.

"Fine, take one of the other transports back up, this belongs to my squad now." He did not outrank the man but he made sure that he knew that he meant business.

"What is your name, soldier!" The man was getting anxious. Fine.

He lifted up his gun and aimed it at the soldier and Drave and Lilst followed suit and took care of the soldier they had initially passed. The pilot lifted his hands in the air and Trevin nodded for Drave to "relieve" him of his duties. "Trevin Neros, by the way." Trevin said as they ushered the two out and he settled down into the cockpit.

"Since when can you fly, Sarge?" Lilst said sitting down next to him.

"I tried my hand at trying to be a pilot," Trevin said as he flipped the switches on the transport. He knew enough to get them there. "Flunked out." He said with a laugh as the doors to the transport lifted up and the transport slowly got off the ground. "Strap in boys! I never learned how to land!" They were too late into it now.

The trip over was made much simpler with the transport but as they quickly sped in he realized they were definitely going to have a bumpy landing. On the comms he sent a message to Din Marren "Ryyk-1, Nova Team is inbound in..... well now!" He lowered the ship and leveled it so that they would be scraping the bottom of the ship and he landed roughly on top of a group of fiends. The transport rocked and shook as it slid across the ground, crashing into what he assumed where the remnants of buildings, and also the bodies of multiple fiends. Though they landed hard, it was not the worst of landings, but the ship was definitely going to have a hard time getting back in the air. He hit the door to the ramp and it only went about halfway down and comically landed in the dirt and made sound indicating that it was not able to go any further.

Unbuckling himself Trevin leapt up and ran out into the firefight, his carbine blasting away as he made his way to Din Marren and his team. "Someone requested reinforcements?"

 

[Camo Orerig]

Objective II - The Only Thing They Fear
Location: Brentaal IV - Cormond
Din Marren Trevin Neros Cynthia Alucard J Jin Lesoon

​

Camo smirked and nodded at Trevin's quip, as he'd expected, almost dying hadn't quite shaken the soldier as much as it should have. It was reassuring to know the man hadn't lost any of his previous confidence in this hellhole, consistency and reliability were two massive attributes in this line of work and although a little wayward at times Camo knew he could rely on Trevin.

The call came in from another friendly face, Din Marren requesting urgent back up, as the coordinates appeared on Camo's data visor he shared pretty much the same reaction as his fellow ranger, the distance they would need to travel made backing up Ryyk squad utterly pointless, by the time they made it to the destination there would undoubtedly be nothing left to back up. Thankfully Trevin and Camo had the same idea, the transport ships nearby would make up that time and allow them to support Din quicker, Camo allowed Trevin to take the lead and followed closely behind.

As they made it onto the nearest ship, things became very tense, very quickly. Camo understood the reaction from the soldiers on the transport but also believed their mission to be of more importance at this moment in time, he watched as Trevin and his squad intimidated them off the ship, it wasn't necessarily Camo's style but it had been effective and truth be told the pair of them would probably die before they had chance to report Trevin. Even if they did, Camo would put in a word to make the complaint go away, him and his father may not get along at the best of times but he was a massively high ranking officer and would help his son out when he asked for it, Camo imagined with a few derisive comments too.

The journey over was reasonably quick, it wasn't smooth though, and neither was the landing. Camo had hoped Trevin had been joking when he alluded to not being able to land. He hadn't. Had he known that the Ranger would have taken the controls, he wasn't an incredible pilot by any stretch of the imagination, he could however land, although Trevin's landing had wiped a few of their enemy's out which wasn't a bad thing.

Camo had to admire the way Trevin re-announced himself into the firefight, the man seemed as if he was in a top grossing action film at all times and he was the star. Camo made his way down the ramp and back into the action himself, firing off some rounds as he made his way into cover next to DIn, Trevin and the rest of the soldiers there, "what he said" he joked as he pointed to Trevin.

 

[Din Marren]

Brentaal IV // Cormund City
Objective: II - The Only Thing They Fear
Equipment: See bio. (Assets)
Complement: Trevin Neros Camo Orerig Cynthia Alucard

<"Watch out!"> Din shouts, shoving Pop to the side moments before the talons of a bird-like entity snatch from the sky. With a piercing screech, the monster vanishes back into the mist. The commando scrambles back to his feet, staring up at where it had disappeared.

Their stand against the horde was becoming more hopeless with each passing minute. Already a fair number of the accompanying marines had fallen. Jagged spines and acidic spit rained down on their position, all while aerial predators ambushed from the the mist. Their numbers were dwindling and soon only Ryyk would remain.

The three-man team knew they couldn't keep it up much longer, but no one would say it aloud. Din's eyes glanced between the handful of marines who were still holed up in the stairwell with them. He could only imagine their terrified faces behind the cold expression of their helmets.

>>Ryyk-1, Nova Team is inbound in... well, now!<<​

Before he can react to the news, the sound of a low flying transport triggers a defensive response. Din and the others duck behind cover as the booming of passing ion engines kicks up dust and loose debris in the street before finally crashing in to an advancing line of monstrosities.

<"Kark! Pop, on me -- we need to move up and check for survivors!"> Din hoists himself over the concrete barrier he'd been hiding behind and breaks into a spring to the crash site, with Pop lagging only a few steps behind him. Under the cover of Lark's rotary blaster, the two hip-fire on the move as grotesque shapes lumber toward them through the dust and mist.

Dare's rifle snaps up as the exit ramp opens and Trevin emerges with guns blaring. Din can't help but smirk -- even in all this the crazy bastard hadn't lost his spirit.

<"Boy are we glad to see you guys,"> his T-visor shifts between Trevin, Camo and the rest of Nova Team, <"We need to get to try to get to the citadel at the city square. There's no way we'll get a transport over there and we can barely move a few meters in these streets without getting snatched.">

He pauses to fire several rounds at the emerging shape of a ghoul from the settling dust around the transport, <"City's got a sub-rail system. If those tunnels are still good... we might be able to jack one and get there real fast.">

 

[Bernard of Arca]

Objective II
A Terrible Fate
Actors: Oceiros Sunstrider A Aeris Ryv Auteme Jacen Nimdok Leon Gallo

Bernard's heart sank the moment the Heir of Darkness turned his head. He was already committed to the attack.

The tyrant's armoured gauntlet stopped it dead in its tracks. Bernard held on to the sabre's hilt, swinging forward and back until he was left struggling in the air. He kept holding on, unable to touch the ground with his feet and nigh helpless, but unwilling to part with his sabre.

Foolish, yes, but then this entire plan had been.

The power the being exuded was overwhelming, and its iron grip all but matched that prowess. At this proximity, Bernard felt like he had been thrust deep under the ocean as he struggled to catch a breath amongst all the force of the darkness' will bearing down on him. He struggled to pull himself free of the tyrant's grasp, but his attempts were fruitless.

Before Bernard could think of another idea, the tyrant discarded him, flinging the Jedi through the air as though he was little more than a dreg compared to his boundless power. His body flew for some distance, right into another. Ryv had stood ready to catch him, but the force of the crash sent both of them rolling across the stone.

Pain shot through Bernard as each impact battered his body, again and again, as he tumbled alongside Ryv towards the platform's edge. At some point, one hand of his slammed against the stone with enough intensity to make him scream out.

Eventually, friction caused the momentum of his motion to die down to the point where he skidded along the ground.

Instinctively, he tried to grab onto something to anchor himself but only managed to scratch open his hands fruitlessly searching, until the ground stopped. He moved in a panic, grabbing onto the stone ledge before gravity fully caught him in its clutches.

He caught onto the ledge just in time, hanging precariously balanced.

Every muscle in his body felt battered and bruised, but the worst was his right hand. A splitting pain radiated through it as he forced himself to keep holding on. It took several moments before he realized it wasn't his sabre he held, but the ledge. He pulled himself up onto the platform, biting down hard to make the pain tolerable.

Ryv had been quicker to get on his feet, already racing head-first towards the dark tyrant at the centre of it all. There were several other figures unfamiliar to Bernard, but no silver glint of his sabre.

His heart sank, and he cursed under his breath, hand already falling to the holster at his side. When he wrapped it around the blaster's grip, however, he recoiled. The injury to his hand seemed like more than just a bit of bruising. Awkwardly, he reached for it with his other hand.

It was heavy and unfamiliar as he held it. The Force hadn't gifted him with the trait of ambidexterity, so he would have to rely on his off-hand to operate the blaster. The price he paid for recklessness, and charging right back in would only bring more of it. Nonetheless, a Jedi had a duty to fulfil.

He took a deep breath, straightening through the continuing ache, and began down the same path the Sword of the Jedi had taken.​

 

[Oceiros Sunstrider]

// SUNSTRIDER //
// OBJECTIVE // A Terrible Fate
// FOCUS // Gideon Raith (Arcanus Sunstrider) | A Aeris | Ryv | Auteme | Bernard of Arca | Jacen Nimdok | Leon Gallo
// THEME // Future Heroes

“It doesn’t matter whether you are a Jedi or not. But if you get up now, you will have a chance.”

The words brought Oceiros back to reality, he was not alone in this endeavor. There was no one singular hero, this was something that exceeded the potential of any singular individual. It was about how they worked as a unit rather than as individuals. His lack of formal training didn’t matter, all that mattered was he gave it his all.

Alongside the rest of the group Oceiros walked forward looking down to the hilt of the lightsaber he held within his grasp. The weapon of a defender, from the silver his a cobalt fire extended outwards to form the famed weapon of the Jedi.

The sapphire plasmatic blade hummed its own symphony among the chorus of other weapons. This was not one of vengeance, of rage, anger or even fear. It was one of promise of protection, of self-sacrifice. The bluish glow it cast formed around Oceiros’ body as he joined those walking forward.

What stood before them was a presence of darkness that carried its own weight, the malevolent aura that radiated from the entity reeked and twisted Oceiros’ stomach. What the Epicanthix saw as he looked upon the malformed armor was not another man, or even sentient being but a pit of all consuming tenebrosity that sought to consume them all. How could one ever let themselves become so corrupted? To give in to such a thing? Was it a lack of a proper guide? Perhaps. Was it a need or ambition to be greater? Maybe. In Oceiros’ opinion what he saw was the same as when he’d heard about the Sith and their atrocities. What he saw was weakness. One could possess all the strength in the galaxy, could bend others to their will but that wasn’t strength. It didn’t matter how much one could lift, or what force they could bring to bear. True strength was making a connection with others and striving to protect, while striving to do what was just.


Dodging slightly to the left Oceiros narrowly dodged the hunk of dropship that propelled past the other jedi and slammed into the platforms behind them. Their one chance of escape gone less they throw themselves over the edge. It wouldn’t have mattered if Oceiros had given up he wouldn’t have been able to escape anyways.

Crouching slightly his right leg sliding forward, left pulling back Oceiros made himself a smaller target. In the warrior’s right hand the cobalt lightsaber sat, the tip pointed towards Abbadon. The one who was attempting to take away Oceiros’ home, the one who’d cost so many millions their lives. Before the neophyte could move in something else caught his attention. An odd disturbance that tugged on the back of his mind. Without any control of his own Oceiros’ head turned to one of the figures ( Ryv ). An emerald glow consuming them and their blade, an unnatural green.

Moving forward, Oceiros moved towards not Abbadon but the one within the Jedi’s own ranks. A blade of soul fire rising up to intercept the blade of emerald flame.