Invasion Return of the Jedi | GA Invasion of TSE's Korriban/Felucia Hexes

[Spirit of Patience]

THE RETURN OF THE JEDI

OOC THREAD

// START: November 29 - END: December 13 // ​

THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE	THE SITH EMPIRE
Adhira Chandra Loske Treicolt Dracken Pryce Ryv Auteme Bernard of Arca ​	Darth Prazutis Taeli Raaf Madelyn Lowe Telis Taharin Cara Dorniarn Joycelyn Zambrano Arctus Silmar​

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“The evils done to these planets by the Sith will be purged and order will be restored.” - Chancellor Chandra

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The time is now.

The Force has called out abandoned, imbalanced, and confused. The warriors sworn to defend it have been distracted and misguided. Opportunity after opportunity to strike at the growing darkness has failed or been missed and it continues to grow in the light's complacency.

With Jedi choosing to turn away from the Force and align with Sith against an imperial rebellion, the shift in balance cannot be ignored. It weighs in favour of the shadow’s influence. Through all the obscurity, one thing is clear:

The light must rise to restore the balance.

The New Jedi Order has been at the Galactic Alliance’s side throughout their struggle to reunite The Core. With each threat that surfaced, an undercurrent of darkness tried to spread throughout the Core, and each time the Alliance's Jedi stood defiant in its path. But those were only remnant tendrils of The Sith’s prevailing influence. To dissuade further contamination the Jedi must push forward into the heart of darkness itself.

Unwavering dedication to the people of the Galaxy drives the Galactic Alliance to liberate Felucia.

Harmony of belief and unity of action guide the Galactic Alliance to support the New Jedi Order’s attack on Korriban.

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FELUCIA​

The war with the Sith Empire is resumed in earnest. Felucia, a world along the Perlemian Trade Route, has become a battleground. With vital water resources that supply the entire sector’s industry and survival, and its strategic position along major hyperlanes, Galactic Alliance High Command has designated the world as a critical staging ground for further military actions within Sith-Imperial Space.

Initial scans of the planet have shown several water treatment plants located south of Kway Teow. With a long road ahead, the Sith cannot afford to give up the entire planet’s resources -- and the Alliance knows denying them those resources will increase the pressure on the Sith’s southern border.

After a month-long campaign amidst the overgrowth and lush flora and fauna of Felucia, Alliance Commando, Marine, and Army units make a final convergence on the capital to break the Sith hold on the world and the Navy arrives over the planet to prevent an orbital attack over Korriban.

OBJECTIVE I: STARHOLD

“The Alliance’s fleet will meet The Empire over Felucia. We will tie up Sith forces while the Jedi strike at Korriban.

Felucia lies along the Gallidran-Thanium Hyperspace Lane. If we can secure this section of space, we gain a crucial base of operations to hold both the Perlemian Trade Route and the Mara Corridor. If we manage to capture Felucia, we’ll have a staging ground for future operations.

It will be a heated battle deep in enemy territory. There will be no reinforcements. Our only options are victory or defeat.”
- High Admiral Dracken Pryce

OBJECTIVE II: OPERATION DELUGE

​

“In our final push for taking the planet, Battlegroup Kenobi’s forces will be divided into a two-prong assault.

First - we’re finally close enough to converge on the Capital. Kway Teow is where we break the Sith’s hold on this planet.

Second - we’re to secure the water treatment facilities. Earlier this week, scouts reported back suspicion of Sith moving in to secure these resources. We’re to take the treatment plant and eradicate the enemy.

Let’s give ‘em hell and kill some Sith.”
- General Maynard Treicolt

KORRIBAN ​

Resting in a cradle of ancient power, the Sith of Korriban have remained safe and protected for too long. Spreading their heinous influence and clouding the Force’s very future, the murmurs of darkness became unignorable when the evidence came forward of some Jedi sympathizing with Sith sentiment. These dark paths must be abandoned before it is too late.

Now well over a month into the battle for Felucia, the New Jedi Order has been deployed to the nearby world of Korriban. With the Sith Empire’s attention drawn to the jungle planet, this is our opportunity to strike out and deal a crucial blow against the forces of evil. We will be arriving clandestinely, amidst a raging sandstorm scouring the already dangerous locale.

May the Force be with you.

OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY

​

“Alright everyone, gather round, time to get down to business.

Our primary objective is the Valley of the Dark Lords. Home to innumerable Sith burial sites and tombs, alongside the Sith Academy, this is our chance to gain insight into our enemies. You’ll be broken into small strike teams and deployed into the heart of enemy territory. Each squad will be given a different objective and released to the wilds unbeknownst to the others.

Stay close to your squadmates and don’t be late to your extraction point. We only get one shot at this.”
- Sword of the Jedi, Ryv Karis

​

 

[Ryv]

S W O R D _ O F _ T H E _ J E D I
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
Strike Team Skywalker
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER

I DO THE BEST I CAN TO RUIN WHAT I HAVE​

There was a time when the Sith Empire's baleful reach assaulted even the Core worlds. It followed the One Sith's fall before the Core Imperial Confederation took root on Coruscant; the Sith cannibalized those they once held ties. Sith slaughtered Sith in a race to the top. Who would reign supreme over a dying galaxy? Well, the Sith Empire won that battle. They eradicated the One Sith remnants, fled to the Outer Rim, and expanded their accursed empire. Fitting then that those they've abused so long ago would rise up with a taste of vengeance. It wasn't enough that the Imperial man fought back against their oppressors.

A reckoning awaited the Sith on Felucia. The Galactic Alliance Defense Force saw fit to tear the empire's territory away from still bleeding hands. A month of battle saw little change in the struggle, but the Alliance refused to cease their hostilities. Every Sith-Imperial drawn away from the New Imperial front promised a cleaner victory. This was their fight too.

As it was for the New Jedi Order.

Ryv looked in on a room full of Jedi, handpicked by the Sword for what may be their most significant victory to date. It wasn't enough when they crossed blades on Bastion, Muunilist, or Dantooine with the Crimson Shadow. The Force called to the Jedi. It guided them in all things. And today, it wasn't in training, nor in meditation, but in battle. The Force brought its chosen to Korriban.

In the Jedi Knight's mind, he yearned for something simple. A chance to pit the finest his Order had to offer against the dreaded Sith. He knew his Jedi would rise to the occasion. He wasn't the only one who felt the biting sting of loss at the Sith's gore stained hands, who sought the opportunity to strike out and break them in turn. Though no one spoke as the ship descended into the atmosphere, he could feel how they felt—afraid, anxious, excited. The room was alight in the sense of purposes that connected them all. It wasn't just their oaths that carried the Jedi to battle. This was personal.

"Master Karis," the pilot's voice called from the cockpit. "We are approaching the storm. Are you sure about this?!"

Ryv turned away from the gathered sentinels and hurried to the cockpit. Both the pilot and co-pilot looked fearful. Perhaps Korriban's reputation reached even the common man. While the Kiffar couldn't know for sure, he came forward and set a hand on each of their shoulders.

"No other way we can sneak undetected onto the planet, boys. Take it slow and easy, alright? This isn't a race. Just get us where we need to go. We'll take care of the rest," he patted them both on opposite sides and stepped back. Neither of them put up a fight, which was good, but he could tell they remained hesitant on the matter. If only he had the presence so enormously exaggerated by his fellow Jedi. It might've made a difference.

A moment later, he returned to his friends. His gaze drifted to Auteme, the promise he made still fresh in his mind. Shaka and Oceiros stood nearby. Beside them, Coren Starchaser, Ryv's partner on this particular rodeo.

He heard stories about the former Grandmaster while growing up. His deeds were legendary among the Jedi. Few could dedicate themselves to so brutal a war for so long, that Ryv knew personally. Yet, here Coren Starchaser stood, and like a beacon over a shrouded sea, his light guided many a Jedi. When he came forward and volunteered for this mission, so too did others. More than just the New Jedi Order hungered for this chance. Hundreds of them, maybe even thousands wanted this. Their chance to end the Sith threat once and for all.

And at the front of that righteous horde stood Coren Starchaser and Ryv Karis. The Force's will would not be denied. This Army of Light, headed by not one, but two bloodstained Swords, would descend upon the Sith Empire and lay waste to their very way of life.

"ETA fifteen minutes. Rough riding ahead, so hold onto something," Ryv warned as he stepped up beside Coren and took hold of the overhead bar. "The storm is expected to heighten the effects of the Dark Side on us, so try not to give Asmundr or Jannik a reason to cut you out of the meld, alright?"

It was no longer time for inspirational speeches. They'd all heard their fair share, likely right before a farewell.

Ryv fell silent and braced himself for the encroaching storm.

As the ship first pressed into the chaos, he could feel it shake briefly. The already dim light faded away, smothered by the sandstorm as it engulfed the vessel in full. Lightning cracked beside them, thunder rolling over them a split-second later. The Jedi Knight held tight to the bar as his entire body trembled. The further they flew, the worse it got, to a point where everything rattled around them. Safe to say, it wasn't the first time he reconsidered the decision to strike Korriban directly.

"Well," Ryv shrugged. "Too late now."

A few minutes later, the ramp descended, and red sand scoured the interior. One by one, the various teams dropped from the shuttle until only Coren, Shaka, Oceiros, and Ryv remained. Their destination pulled them further away from their now deployed comrades. The Temple of Sacrifice called out to the quartet of battle-hardened Jedi. Its mere presence suffused the already horrific planet with a sickly tinge. Ryv could not only feel but hear the screams of the damned as they drew closer. The spirits wailed inanely, curses lost on the erratic winds as he stepped up to the ramp. He looked back at those who followed him to even the Gates of Hell.

"Time to go to work, boys," he turned, descended the ramp, and stepped off the ledge. He plummeted some three or four hundred feet before his arms shot out to both sides, fingers splayed as if ready to take hold of something. The Force answered his call, guided by his will. It coalesced around him and protected his body as his feet made contact with the sand-covered stones outside the temple. As the others landed around him, he looked to the arching entry before them all.

"Well, this is foreboding."

ALLIES | NJO | NIO | Auteme | Zaavik Perl | Rurik Fel | Coren Starchaser | Shaka Sunstar | Oceiros Sunstrider | Creuat | Karn Syndulla | Bernard of Arca | Leon Gallo | Asmundr Varobalder | Jannik Morlandt | Lucien Dooku | Ripley Kühn | Kat Decoria | Kenth Ordo | Hal Vaiken | Aramis Sunstrider | Mato Kejak | Aveline Cuiléin | Jax Thio
ENEMIES | TSE | ELDER COMPACT | Darth Carnifex

 

[Auteme]

U N I T E D
Lucien Dooku Mato Kejak | Marrow
​

Even admitting her fears was not enough to stop them. Every moment was one closer to those red dead sands and darkness that had not been touched by light. Yet there they were, a cadre of Jedi striking at the beating heart of the galaxy's darkness. So far from home, so far from allies, but together they stood. The Sith had divided the Jedi, but for those aboard the dropship it only served to harden their resolve to push them back.

She spared a glance to Coren. The now-former Silver Jedi Grandmaster had chosen instead to join the New Jedi Order in their attack on Korriban. It could've been safe, for a time, if he'd continued to support the Concord's decision to ally with the Sith. It might've kept the Silver Jedi intact, even. But it wouldn't have been right. It wouldn't bring down the regime and order that had hurt many more than the Draelvasier's conquests.

It gave her confidence that they'd survive, be alright in the battle today. Ryv and Coren together could be enough to push back even two Dark Lords; with the strength and resolve provided by the other Jedi through the meld she knew that Ryv would keep his promise. Their eyes locked for a brief moment and she smiled.

Still, part of her wondered if it was just a brave face. There were twangs of doubt and nervousness in the Force. She couldn't tell if they were hers or one of the other Jedi's, but she didn't fail to notice. This was dangerous. So dangerous. More dangerous than anything she'd ever done before; going to the Sith homeworld and attempting to purge the tomb of one of the greatest Sith Lords of all time. Darth Bane's Tomb was a place as dark as all the rest.

For a moment she steadied herself, placing a hand on Lucien's armored shoulder and finding an anchor in his presence. She knew he wasn't too deep into the Jedi culture but it meant everything that he was willing to accompany her into the hellscape below. Their other companion, Mato, was almost as comforting; he had an experience and weight about him, and she knew he'd give his all to combat the Sith.

There were no words of encouragement, no inspirational speeches. They all knew why they were there. United in purpose, in mind, in strength, the Jedi would pull the past and future of the Sith from them. She could only hope the Jedi would keep theirs.

In no time the ramp lowered and Strike Team Fay headed to the edge. She paused, glancing one last time at the Jedi before she was to disappear into the sandstorm below. What could she say?

She said nothing, but for a brief moment she reached out to the hearts of the others and gave them a reminder of the little light that danced in their hearts. It'll be alright. We are enough. Do your best. Be safe.

With the others she leapt out of the dropship, shooting towards those red-dead sands in search of the darkness she could show her light.

It wasn't long before she found it.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

WOLFPACK | GHOST VIPERS
FELUCIA | KWAY TEOW OFFENSIVE
ARMOUR | LIGHTSABER
BANG BANG

​

Moonlight filtered through the sheltering translucent blossoms like silver ichor. The foliage was gnarled and leafy, but radiant against the nightfall. Lush in colour, glowing in the starlight in delicate blue-green patterns over the planet’s floor. The flora of Felucia stood hundreds of feet tall. Their rubbery tunks, covered with shaggy blossoms, rose straight as a pillar for the first several feet then dipped and curved under the gargantuan weight of the luminescent shroom-like blossoms.

The druxy ground cover was primarily dirt, ferns, roots and fungi, but so dense in spots as to resemble a glowing, alive sea that rippled softly in the eve’s breeze which served only to push the humid moisture around the mist bound world. It was warm and it was cool, and predominantly damp. This was the entire planet: verdant, primeval, and colourful. And alive.

Frank had warned them some of the wildlife was Force-sensitive, and they’d just exchanged glances as he drawled out what he found within the archives. Mostly emphasizing the different creatures that existed within the jungles that were more than capable of maiming, dismembering and destroying each of them. And the Yerdua Poison Spitter he found particularly captivating, astounded by the plant’s capabilities and propensity for obedience when trained properly.

By now, a month into the lynchpin campaign, the Wolf Pack and companioning soldiers had run into almost the entire index Frank had warned them about. The rancors had been the most tenacious opponents, and they’d lost a few men to the wilderness but less than the usual body count under Treicolt’s command.

Through the exhaustive days and nights, the pack survived.

A scruffy bunch in some ways, but fervently focused, full of initiative, cunning and ferocity. And they all hated the Darkness and what it represented with a passion that exceeded self-preservation. And they all knew this was a crucial raid. If they failed to take the city here, the premiere attack of The Alliance against The Sith Empire was doomed.

Consequently, nobody had to tell them to be alert as they made their way silently up through the foliage. At the crest of the hill, they couched and crawled the last few feet to peer over the edge and wait for the command.

With a final check, Loske reviewed the latest status that had been fed through the encrypted channels. The report was from scouts that had gone ahead, a mix of wolves and snakes. The New Imperial Order’s had sent through members of the 71st. As a gesture of camaraderie and further validation to the armistice. She’d personally vouched for Djorn and his men on this mission –– as much distrust that she retained for the spy, she technically owed him for his help trying to track Maynard down. And for covering her accidental manslaughter from her short-circuiting. Him having that information on her, and Maynard not, made her anxious on the daily...but the timing was never right.

A voice cut through the comms: <Incoming. The civilians that haven’t been evacuated yet are inside or underground out of range and major zones. But..we can’t wait anymore. We’re moving to secure the landing platforms.> Loske recognized the voice as Jambo’s, a ranger who’d ascended the ranks alongside them since Muunilinst.

The soldier was right. Time had run out. The entire campaign’s success was riding on tonight’s strike –– they’d been gradually converging on this location to time it with the attack on Korriban. A planet that reeked of the darkside that Loske was all too happy to avoid in her frazzled state.

A local Felucian, a villager that had been helping them navigate for the past weeks nodded his small, almond-shaped head once. His network of connections from village to village had given them an advantage with coordination and communications from each civilian location. “Tonight.” He croaked in agreement and looked nervously to the helmeted faces of those with him. He’d grown to trust the representatives of The Alliance, but what’s more, he’d grown to hope in them. Them and their machines –– they’d been setting up assault carriers as pseudo ground bases for the last few days, and Mr. Felucian was well impressed.

From the back, another soldier pointed forward through the ferns, cautioning stealth to his companions as they encroached the city below.

Loske’s light eyes shifted from peering at the target, fixating on the city lights, to her companions in command. Her throat was tight with anticipation, chewing the inside of her bottom lip before she swallowed away her apprehension.

They’d already decided the best route was to split the city’s defences by breaking down into three groups. One at the left flank of the city, one at the gates, and one in the rear. The scouts in the front were already working on scaling and penetrating subtly, aiming for the landing platforms.

It was already a different strategy than the brute force The Wolfpack typically employed. Where Ryv was the Sword of the Jedi, Maynard could have been likened moreso to a hammer. But after his abduction on Yinchorr, there’d been a shift in his mindset. And it wasn’t just Loske who had noticed the shift in the General’s approach. His men had as well. There was something more cautious about the way Maynard was approaching this mission. That much was clear in the consideration of spreading out and keeping track of different groups.

It was only observation at this point. Not something they’d addressed to had the chance to talk through candidly –– she couldn’t risk distracting him from getting comfortable in the role again on such a tight, pressing timeline. His confidence was a fragile thing. Her intermittently fritzing powers compounded the delay. For the most part, she’d managed not to evidence too much for anyone other than her to be concerned, but with any opportunity she could secure, she withdrew into herself more than usual to try and iron out the inconsistencies. And could only hope that nothing triggered an outburst tonight.

Another crackle over the comms, from the group at the left side of the city. <We’re in position. Ready for your mark, General.>

<Can’t wait to see artillery light up the night.> Someone added jovially, and Loske attributed it to the Felucian guide that had shown a vulnerability in the city’s defenses a handful of days ago. The very same local who’d volunteered to travel down with Wolfpack members to the side of the city for the attack. Brave little guy.

Tension disguised as anticipation was building, and she looked in the General's direction with a final nod of good luck and reinforcement before everyone's faces were concealed once more by armour and all she could see was her reflection and the glowing dots of the fleets exchanging ripostes above Felucia.

ALLIES | GA | NIO | Maynard Treicolt // Seydou of Thyrsus // Djorn Bline
ENEMIES | TSE | Taeli Raaf ​

 

[Asmundr Varobalder]

PROSPERITY’S PROTECTOR | THERE IS NO CHAOS, THERE IS HARMONY
ABOARD STEALTH INSERTION CRAFT
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | STRIKE TEAM SHAN
THE_PRAYER

The space Viking’s first time off Prosperity had been in a warship cutting from the heart of the Core, right to the gates of darkness along the Daragon Trail. He hadn’t spent much time appreciating the streamline of starlight on the journey, he was too immersed in the meditation required to prepare for the attack ahead. He spent time memorizing, recognizing, and building a network of nodes with all the minds of Jedi and allies. After several hours of outreach, he achieved harmony and knowledge in the appreciation for individual nuances.

Just in time, too.

Penetrating Korriban’s Orbital Defense systems had been turbulent, but the fervent focus of the Jedi at the helm saw the deed done. For Asmundr, he’d felt all the intensity of their righteous focus, and helped coordinate from his position. Shuttles and individual fighters pierced through the system and operated as one, sharing and reactions to the stimuli from the defense protocols.

Once they touched down on the ground and began to spread out to eradicate darkness, that metaphysical network and support did not rescind. In a world so drenched in darkness, The Light’s warriors would need additional bolstering. That was his sole duty. For the entirety of his tenure with the Jedi he would be purposed to protect. Concentrating on the existence of The Jedi he was warden over, the space Viking gave the entirety of his consciousness over to Ashla, bathing in her generous and gentle influence. Everything he felt was connected and reinforced before being redistributed and fed back down to the warriors already set on their objectives within the chaotic, gritty tempest.

For a moment, he was fearful he’d fail. The assault of history and Sith culture nearly caused him to collapse. The great, golden giant dropped to his knees –– doing his best to keep his focus amidst the chaotic flux that ricocheted about in his mind and to all those he was connected to. He should have expected the chaos of the feedback loop. Many that contributed to the strike teams hurtling to their objectives were nascent.

Control. He had to control this meld lest he do more harm than good. The Darkness vibrated out in a rolling wave, as if it laughed at him, at them, taunting the audacity of the Jedi. He pounded his fist into the floor of the dropship and brazenly, Asmundr stared back.

That darkness wanted him, to ensnare him and drag down those he was protecting. For an instant, he split his focus to look up and out the window of space. The deep, vacuuming void, where nothing was. Nothing. He filled his mind with this black nothing. Opaque, save for the occasional flickering of starlight that flickered through the ether. His face flushed, his muscles flexed. Steady, thunderous breaths clapped behind his breastbone and out through his nose and teeth until he felt steadied once more.

Those already departed, running into the sandstorm, supposedly benefiting from his oversight would feel but a short withdrawal of his focus. Hopefully, Jannik was not so affected. It had been a very long time since Asmundr had been required to operate at this power. Centuries, even.

“Padawan Gallo, Master Morlandt,” Asmundr’s baritone voice thundered and he lifted a golden plated hand to point outward at the swirl of grit and blood-orange. Following the end of his finger, they’d see the flurry of activity and silhouettes of Jedi charging their designated locations. Shadows amidst the sandstorm. “My brothers, we must get closer to the others. An effective nucleus is in the centre.”

Rising from his knees, the Jedi’s colossal shape slowly moved from within the dropship out to the assailing winds of Korriban. For the most part, his armour covered and protected him from the burn of debris. Only the exposed skin on his face and neck burned from the hyper pressure, prickling and stinging in response to the wind’s burn. If the darkness wasn’t so itself wasn’t so piercing, he might have felt the heat from the unnatural hurricane.

ALLIES | NJO | GA | Leon Gallo // Jannik Morlandt // Master Zoryu
BATTLMELD AFFECTING: ALL JEDI STRIKE TEAMS
ENEMIES | TSE | THE DARKSIDE​

 

[Kenth Ordo]

O N L Y _ A _ S I T H . . .
NEW JEDI ORDER
OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY | POST I
EQUIPMENT: LIGHTSABER | BATTLE ARMOUR
SOMEWHERE NEAR THE VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS

Ever since Dantooine, his connection to the Force had become stronger by the day, so much so that he could idly feel it around every living thing without trying anymore. It was a good thing, it further reinforced his belief that being Force-sensitive wasn't a fluke and that he was meant to become a Jedi. But it was also a bad thing, as he could sense every dark influence tugging at the edge of his mind, trying to get inside and corrupt it.

He was in the midst of an especially violent attempt as the dropship neared a nexus of Dark Side energy: the Valley of the Dark Lords. He could feel his hands become clammy within their gauntlets, the man focusing on breathing and building up his mental shields for what was to come. He knew he was going into a nest of gundarks, and that he was like a loth cat to them, but it would behove him to at least try.

Back on the Prosperity, he had read something about thinking about other things as a form of resisting mental domination. Playing pazaak, listing hyperspace routes, reciting engine sequencers, they were all examples of what he could do if he felt his mind being probed. He tucked that tidbit of information away for safekeeping and shifted in his seat, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt and mindlessly fiddling with it in his hands.

A tap on his shoulder from a member of a different strike team alerted him that they were close to their destination, Kenth replacing his lightsaber on his belt and standing up from his seat. Stretching momentarily, he carefully navigated through the row of Jedi knees and to the cargo ramp, seating himself onto a pristine speeder bike.

It was an antiquated model, 74-Z if he remembered correctly. Quietly slinging a backpack full of special surprises over his arms, he secured a tube-looking device to the side of his speederbike and thumbed the switch that activated the engine. "Listen to her purr!" He exclaimed as the ramp opened, Korriban's winds causing his hair to flap about wildly.

He pushed forward on the accelerator and roared as the bike flew out of the dropship and into the air a good few hundred feet above the ground.

"LET'S GO!" He cried out, gripping the controls for dear life while the bike descended.

It was time for some sabotage.

Coren Starchaser | Ryv | Shaka Sunstar | Oceiros Sunstrider | Auteme | Lucien Dooku | Mato Kejak | Allyson Locke | Zaavik Perl | Bernard of Arca | Asmundr Varobalder | Jannik Morlandt | Leon Gallo | Rurik Fel | Creuat | Ripley Kühn | Karn Syndulla | Kat Decoria | Hal Vaiken | Aramis Sunstrider ​

​

 

[Zark San Tekka]

VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS
NO ONE'S EVER REALLY GONE

Such a curious feeling, pain.

How unfamiliar after so long without it. Braxus had taken great care arranging reintroductions. Clever Braxus. He would not have believed that the Dark Lord could be so tempered as to seek anything less than his ultimate destruction. A most insidious trap. Some might even call it a gift. But Darth Prazutis knew that he would rather be free to walk the world between worlds as a spirit of light than spend a mortal lifetime in chains. More than that, Prazutis likely feared he was getting too close. Haunting interference which could no longer be tolerated.

Dark science. Cloning. Secrets only the Sith knew.

His hair was long and haggard from time spent in captivity. Drab grey prison scrubs allowed him at least a shred of modesty. Their roughspun fabrics chafed uncomfortably against still newborn flesh. Zambrano’s personal visits were far more disagreeable. Mind probes, invasive surgery, even retrofitted Vongtech from the old One Sith days. There was a clean scar along his abdomen. Some kind of tracker? A failsafe? Or something darker still? Perhaps a malevolent artifact had been implanted, already beginning to twist his thoughts and consume his soul from the inside out. No way to know with his senses dulled by neural inhibitors and his arms shackled in baroque suspension fields.

He was only dimly aware of a cosmos beyond this elaborate tomb. Mere impressions resonated as if gleaned by farsight from long before. Unrelenting darkness, shapeless in form and endless in scope. Ancient rituals beyond time. There was madness here for this was a place of devils. Imbued in the crumbling stonework. Gifted drop by drop off the grim end of bloody athanes. Willing supplicants and terrified victims alike. Piercing his thoughts. Throbbing around numb edges of a mind already reeling from debilitating synaptic pulses.

It was important to remember. He could already feel himself beginning to forget. While one brother lived the other could not truly die. They were no longer men, but neither were the Zambranos immortals as they claimed. There was weakness. A shatterpoint…not that holding onto forbidden knowledge would save him. The festering stench of corruption surrounded his perfect prison. Even if the key to destroying the Dark Lords of the Sith completely existed somewhere inside his mind there was no hope that he could act on such information. That was the entire point of trapping his soul within this replicated body.

Jedi Master Zark, Vice Admiral of the Galactic Alliance Defense Fleet, was alive on Korriban and he could not escape.

It would take something like a miracle to save him.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim-Ragal
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud
The Red Witch; The Night Queen, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium​

Location: Valley of the Kings, Korriban
Objective: Protect AMCO from any trouble.
Equipment: 2x Sigra vibroblade | 2x Striith vibrosword | Heilagr MK. I Assassin Armour | G1 OmniLink || Shield talisman | Empyrean gland | Taozin amulet
Tag: Beltran Rarr

Korriban, Valley of the Kings; this is not the first time Ingrid has been to this place. She has been here several times since she first came here as a double agent. Since then, as if a thousand years had passed. And the enemy has now attacked this place. This is exactly why their own attack will happen soon. She was a double agent for the first time, now an Empress. For one thing, it didn’t change that she still wanted to take care of AMCO . Although she had already adapted to the man’s behaviours and did not bother him, she did not rush the Sith Lord, even the enemy was near.

They already trusted each other so much that they knew everyone could do their job. That, of course, didn’t mean she wasn’t worried about the man, but she let him do what he wanted. Until then, she waited farther. Now she was the commander-in-chief of the Eternal Fleet and Eternal Army regarding her title as Empress, so she listened to reports and issued orders. There was plenty of time to occupy herself while her lover (and fiancé) were doing his own thing. If any of them needed something, they could talk telepathically anyway. Essentially without difficulty, thanks to the Force-bond and also the fact that they were both natural telepaths.

So they were both busy with their own business, even after all this time, it was only a mystery to the woman why the Sith Lord always had to deal with something like this at this time? Why not have a good time when nothing is threatening them at all. Anyway, she tried not to think about it because her own business was important enough. Some soldiers were also here, and some were again working to bring relics and artefacts to the ship so they could be rescued. Ingrid loved art anyway, so it didn’t bother her.

In fact, the newly appointed Empress hoped the enemy would not attack in a place like this and they would soon be able to leave here, in some safer place. Because they were in a good enough place now, she ate enough dark side energy so she wouldn’t have to feed this way for a good while. Ingrid did not have to eat from another living person here. She was still not used to this condition, she did not know if she would ever be able to accept this situation. She looked around the Valley of the Kings, a pretty arrogant name for a cemetery. But after all, what else could she expect from the Sith?

​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: G L I T T E R & G O L D //:
//: Team Vos //: Zaavik Perl //: Bernard of Arca //:
//: Team Rhysode //: Kenth Ordo //: Hal Vaiken //: Aramis Sunstrider //:
//: TSE //: Gnox the Insatiable //:
//: Infiltrate, Plunder, Destroy //:
//: Sith Academy //: Korriban //:

A string of beeps echoed in the headphones Allyson wore. She nodded along to the beat that they came in, and she typed in the necessary notes into the datapad that the transmitter was tied into. Having been on Korriban for the past few weeks, she started to feel the strain of being on the massive dark side planet. Nightmares tore through her psyche, but at least when she woke, they faded, and she was able to recenter herself. Her worry was on Zaavik. The padawan was already frustrated and had bouts of anger. Being typically unorthodox in her Jedi life, she did reach into the teachings of her previous Master and guide him to meditate. ​

​

Still, she worried, but there was not much more she could do. The pair were Jedi Shadows. Their jobs were littered with dark sided influenced powers like force camouflage and Mechu Deru. Others before them had handled and been in charge of Sith Artifacts and other types of dangerous missions Jedi couldn’t get their hands dirty with. ​

​

Deniable assets. The definition of their job could be boiled down to that. Still, someone had to do the dirty work the Jedi didn’t really want to deal with. Putting the headphones down, Allyson pushed away from the transmitter. The last transmission they would get and the last one she would send back, the details of the academy layout and the defenses that Team Rhysode would be facing. They were arriving on a good day, one lost to a sandstorm the Jedi would strike the heart of Korriban. ​

​

“Zaavik, Alliance contacted us. They’re dropping. We’re heading back into the Academy. How’s your head?” She questioned him as she dismantled the transmission computer and began to scrub it clean using the Force. She would destroy the device and the rest of their camp before they headed off. If the Empire stumbled upon the base for some reason, it would look as if it had been here for years, and the computers they would find would not link back to the Alliance. ​

​

She waited for his answer and nodded; she would continue with the quick mission briefing and then address him afterward. “We need to get more information from the Academy and some possible Sith Artifacts.” She gave him a cheeky grin as she shrugged. The smuggling part always made her the happiest, reminded her of her younger days as a spice smuggler. ​

​

“We’ll have to take down any anti-air weapons we come across, but I don’t remember seeing any.” The Corellian rubbed her chin slightly, trying to think back to the schematics she partially downloaded. Either way, they would get there in time to at least shut some stuff down before the Strike teams landed.​

​

The camp was destroyed and their tracks covered, the pair would soon find their way to the academy's outskirts. The sand storm kicked up, but their gear protected them for the most part. Looking at the place of Sith learning, Allyson mused. “Hey, Zaavik, how do you feel about blowing up the place when we’re done gutting it?” ​

​

Shrugging, she looked to the padawan. “Have a bit of fun, hmm?”​

 

[Adhira Chandra]

Rain Hellfire Down Upon Them
​

The rhythmic footfalls echoing below them reminded Adhira of thunder. Thousands of boots rose and fell in unison as the Galactic Alliance Defense Force paraded across the industrial zone that had been commandeered in secret to prepare for war. High above, on a jutting balcony, the Chancellor gazed down upon them with members of High Command flanking her. The artificial wind created by the dreadnaughts as they powered up their engines caused her robes to whip wildly in the wind and a strand of her jet black hair came loose from its tightly wound coil. As she carefully tucked the strand of hair back behind her ear, she turned to glance at one of the Generals who had stepped up beside her.

"The first ships have been loaded, we are ready to depart for Felucia.... on your command, ma'am."

She began to twist one of the rings on her finger, a tick that only manifested when she was anxious. 'On your command ma'am' the words echoed in her head. The first time that the Galactic Alliance had gone to war and it was going to be on her command. "Thank you, General," she said abruptly when she realized she had yet to respond to him. The uniformed man snapped to attention and fell back a pace from her side, leaving Adhira to look out over what she had wrought, alone.

The Chancellor glanced back at the military officers, all of them looking at her expectantly. "Begin." With that simple word, the war to end all wars began in earnest. The General murmured something into his communicator and almost instantly several of the massive ships began to rise into the air and climb rapidly into orbit where they would assemble briefly before jumping into the Permelian Trade Route.

Her job there was done. There was nothing else she could do now and with that, she gathered up the bits of her robe that draped down to the floor and turned to leave, taking the salute from her officers as she passed back through the doors leading out onto the balcony. Just inside, among the gaunt faces of her aides, her husband was waiting, looking as troubled as she felt. "Do you think we are doing the right thing?" The words had been louder than she'd wanted them to be, but the bureaucrats politely pretended not to be listening. Narendra ran his hand across his snow-white mustache and shrugged in response.

"Time will tell" he sighed.

"Time will tell," Adhira echoed.

​

​

 

[Teica Giraan]

[Location: Bridge of the G.A Frigate Peacemaker, Above Felucia]
[Goal: Tie the enemy up in orbit of Felucia]
[Focus: Captain Teica Giraan]

"Load photons and prepare to fire!"

Teica bit her tongue as her anxiety began to surround her. Pacing back and forth along the bridge, she watched her subordinates man their consoles. Lieutenant Commander Keera Dar approached the captain, waiting patiently for her to stop pacing. Teica stopped, as commander Dar passed her a datapad. All stations green...engineering teams ready for action...all gunnery turrets prepped. Teica placed the device back in her X.O's hand.

"Excellent, number one."

Dar walked off. Teica looked around, the bridge crew had all manned their stations and began flicking levers and turning dials. She strided along the dusty walkway and toward a freshly polished command chair. She sat down, the cold temperature of the chair sending shivers throughout her body. She ran a freezing hand along the arm of the chair, just hovering a centimeter above. It was still cold.

Her eyes turned to the viewscreen, nothing but the cold vacuum of space. Wait for it... She held up a hand. The bridge went silent. Anxious stares came from each bridge officer. She nodded to the comms officer, and was quickly patched in to the fleet's communications channel.

"This is Captain Giraan, the Peacemaker's all set...Good luck."

The comms officer cut the signal, now switching to the frigate's main channel.

"All hands..." she bit her tongue for the tenth time, "battle stations!"

Bridge officers turned back to their consoles and the furious clicking of buttons began. Turbolasers and laser cannons rotated throughout the ship's exterior, now facing the void in front. May we all survive yet another battle.

 

[AMCO]

Location: Valley of Kings, long-forgotten tomb.
Objective: Conjure and bind spirits; deal with an unexpected visitor.
Equipment: Polyweave Suit, Shadow's Folly, Shield Talisman, Soulstones, Empyrean Gland, [2] Jin'Pins
Writing With: Ghost of Avernus

Another day, another conflict - while some amongst his order no doubt relished the opportunity to fight primarily against their ancient rivals, the Jedi, no such sentiments were to be found within the mind of the Pillar of Advancement. The New Imperials were ravenous hounds, impossible to barter with and suitable only to put down, but he had hoped that diplomacy could prevail with the Galactic Alliance.

Alas, tempers rose, blasters were raised, and the most recent spike of violence was entering its second month. Worse yet, they came for Korriban.

Finishing the last bit of spellwork, Adrian smiled in satisfaction at the sight of the eight constructs that would soon become Nether Knights. Just in time, too, for the Jedi and their pet soldiers were taking to the field in earnest. Taking a moment to run through the requisite mental calculations, he extended a single slender hand, Shadow's Folly dangling forth. Muttering under his breath, he spun the Talisman in circles.

Faster, faster, faster... until, with a sound that was equal parts thunderous and ethereal, the veil between world parted.

For a long moment there was nothing... and then fashion personified stepped forth.

"Karking hell, you have got to be kidding me!"

 

[Gnox the Insatiable]

LOCATION: Sith Academy, Korriban
OBJECTIVE: Find the Intruders
GEAR: The Butcher
ALLIES: TSE
ENEMIES: GA, Allyson Locke

Rodents in the kitchen. Too small to be found, but evidence of their trespassing was obvious. Those that didn't belong where they went within the Sith Academy. At first, Gnox had just assumed they were Acolytes searching for secrets they weren't privy to. But as the weeks went by, it got more and more obvious that there was something different about these. They hid themselves too well to be mere acolytes. In his lazy hunt he never came across them once, and there was none within the Acolyte's rank that could avoid him like this.

And then, war.

The Galactic Alliance had come to the system, ready to start their war. The orders came. Be ready for a fight. The large figure pieced it all together. These weren't just rodents plaguing the academy. They were Jedi. He stood within the security room behind the two soldiers responsible for keeping their eyes on the cameras. They were spared a worse fate for allowing these rats to get within their walls, but that would change if they did not find the intruders when they came back.

There was no way they wouldn't, not if war had come. There were no bombs, yet, and it was unlikely they'd just wander through the academy and leave.

"When you see them, or see something off, tell me. I will handle them."

The pair before him flinched as he spoke, their fear evident. The braver of the two spoke, nodding quickly. "Yes, my lord. We will find them."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Equipment​

Armor Taralraiskaz Battle Plate Helm of Malignant Anima Fist of Moridin the Great Weapons Derriphan the Devourer Other Empyrean Gland

The cold musty air was a welcome change from the balmy jungles of Dromund Kaas, the stale fetid air more preferable than the sweat and oily smells of New Kaas City. It was in tombs that the once-Emperor of the Sith felt more at home than any highrise or populated temple, he felt a deep affinity for the crypts which littered the landscape of the holiest world in the Sith faith. Typically, only the Sith were permitted to walk within the tombs of the ancients, to marvel at their architecture and ruminate on the wisdom and knowledge that they held in secret.​

​

But these were not typical times.​

​

In a brazen act, the Galactic Alliance has dared to trespass on sacred ground, hallowed ground. Such a sacrilege could not go unchallenged or unpunished, and thus the Empire had lifted its rule that kept non-Sith confined to the various settlements which dotted the landscape. The People's Army had been given permission to station themselves in the Valley of the Dark Lord and other holy sites, with the promise that they would become heroes of the Empire and be remembered for all time in the annuls yet unwritten.​

​

It was an easy promise to make, the Sith knew that the People's Army was fanatical to the nth degree. It took very little effort to rile them up into a frenzy, they had already been primed by over a decade of sustained propaganda against the Jedi and those that served alongside them. To paint the incursion of the holy Sith worlds as the most heinous crime was effortless.​

​

Though he knew that the majority of the Jedi would be striking the Valley of the Dark Lords, as it was the most recognizable landmark on Korriban, the once-Emperor had other plans in store. He and Other Space Kaiden traveled to the forgotten ruin of the Temple of Sacrifice. Located in a gorge several kilometers away from the other tombs, it was virtually undetectable from the air thanks to the surrounding topography. His followers had arrived before he had, preparing the temple for his and Vulcanus' arrival. Debris had been cleared, and the temple's defenses had been primed. Though the once-Emperor desired only one Jedi to fall into his trap, he suspected there could be others.​

​

So he ensured that everything was in its proper place when he reached out through the Force, reaching out to Coren Starchaser to come and meet him in this ancient place. When he was done with that task, Carnifex opened his eyes to look upon the Great Khaan. ​

​

"Everything is prepared, ensure that nothing impedes my meeting with Starchaser. I leave the fate of the Jedi that follow him into this temple up to you, but leave none living."​

​

He closed his eyes again and continued waiting. His sword, Derriphan, floated idly above his head. The thousands upon thousands of souls trapped within screamed in unison for release from their terrible prison, a shrieking wail perceivable only through the Force. Many Jedi were trapped within the sword as well, all victims of the once-Emperor's malevolent hate. ​

​

Carnifex hoped to add Starchaser's to their number.​

​

The sentries placed along the temple's approach reacted immediately to the Jedi's landing, breaking free of their inanimate stupor to rush towards the landing team. In their clawed hands, they wielded great pole-axes, towering weapons of alchemy-infused stone which could cut through durasteel as easily as it could through cloth. They moved with fluid precision, clearly less graceful than that of a truly living being, but with an unrelenting ferocity that was clearly born of the Dark Side.​

​

Though they would stop at nothing to prevent the Jedi from entry, it seemed as if a force was drawing the Jedi towards the inner depths of the temple.​

​

Something dark and hungry.​

​

Ryv ​

 

[Marrow]

Location: Valley of Kings, Tomb of Darth Bane
Objective: Enshrine the trespassers within a gilded tomb.
Equipment: Red Lightsaber, Unspecified Talismans, Glorious Golden Mask.
Writing With: Auteme | Lucien Dooku

Amidst howling winds, a lone figure stood, gilded robes billowing in the wind, what few rays of harsh sunlight penetrated the boiling sands glittering brilliantly off the smoothness of his golden mask. They had come, as they were always going to - come to die as so many others had before them.

Many would perish on their side too, of course. It was the nature of this place, a great gaping darkness seeped in millennia of tradition. The planet itself relished in the spilling of soon-to-be-forgotten blood... and the spirits which called it home hungered, a situation only exacerbated by the methods by which his Order would defend their world. Yes, the Jedi would know soon enough - Korriban did not suffer the weak to live.

Turning silently, the soft thud of metallic boots striking sand and then stone was muted by the raging storms.

Here he would face them, surrounded by reliefs glorifying long-dead Sith. How appropriate that it would be Bane, of all people - he whose lineage had torn down the Republic that had lasted for untold millennia, a Republic the Jedi had sought in vain oh-so-many times to restore.

 

[Hal Vaiken]

NEW JEDI ORDER
OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY
EQUIPMENT: LIGHTSABER | BATTLE ARMOUR
SOMEWHERE NEAR THE VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS

"The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world."
- Allyson Locke to Tycho Reeves, a few years ago​

The words rang in his mind uninvited. Did they carry a meaning today? Now? Or was it the Dark Side playing tricks on his mind? He had found Allyson Locke, or she had found him, when he had waged a lone wolf war against the Sith for the death of his wife. Tycho had nearly succumbed into the darkness then.

Ever since that fateful day, he had not seen her but he rested assured that she had seen him; always gliding through the shadows that one.

His thoughts broke as the speeder bike ripped through the pillows of orange haze towards the heart of darkness - the Valley of the Dark Lords. The uneasy feeling struck him straight to the gut before it coiled only slightly at the tender presence of Asmundr Varobalder 's Force meld. Beneath it all, slithering through the mixture of presences, both light and dark, he sensed a call beckon at him from the Valley.

He couldn't hear it over the idiotic screeching of Kenth Ordo diving down with his speeder bike and Tycho struggling to follow.

"Kenth, you nerfherder, I tol-" Tycho ceased talking, the man wouldn't hear him anyway. "Kark it."

The Jedi reached out for his pouch and grabbed a couple of thermal detonators. He flung them off down at the Valley. Rinse and repeat.

The damage of the explosions didn't matter. Rhysode were the distraction for the rest of the Jedi teams to sneak into the their designated targets, and the strike team tasked with saving a Jedi Master long believed to have been dead - Zark San Tekka .

"Drop your damn ordnance already, Kenth!"

They were nearing their destination.

GA | ALLIES | Kenth Ordo | Zark San Tekka
TSE | ENEMIES | Darth Strosius | Dimitri Voltura

 

[Jax Thio]

​

Location: Korriban​

Equipment: Jedi Amor, Jax's Lightsaber​

Tag: Aveline Cuiléin​

​

The thing about battle was the tense part was not the battle itself, the sounds of blaster fire barely grazing a person, explosions from the ground and in the air and the combined screams friend and foe alike as they cry out for their mothers, say words that they thought they would never in their lives and try to get pass the day without throwing up at the horror they've seen and inflicted. It was the waiting, the fracking waiting all the emotion welling up inside you, the seeds of doubt planted in your mind as it quickly sprouted into a tree of panic and despair. You are placed in a cramped dropship that's shaking every 5 seconds. The other soldiers around you say nothing, it's hard to gauge their emotions but you can sense that they are just as fearful as you are. Jax is a Jedi Commander, he's been under fire many times in the past and has the scars to prove it. He's experienced every emotion on the battlefield, triumph, sorrow, guilt, glory. The battlefield was a had all those things embracing the contradiction of emotions as people slam into each other in a fight for survival.​

​

He remembered his first battle, one can never forget their first. Jax recalled peeing himself at the thought of messing up but his master assured him that he will be all right and that all things is the will of the force. Jax loved his master, but he had to admit if the will of the force is having a young man or woman die or painful death then perhaps the Sith were right and that the force is actually survival of the fittest. But then again the Sith are a self destructive organization that often likes to distort the truth. Still the will of the force was still on Jax's mind as he wondered what Master Oda meant by that. "Sith Academy in position!" The pilot said. "There's a lot of AA guns being placed on the rooftop! So it's going to be a bumpy landing!"​

​

"Focus," Jax calmly said to the man. "Just drop us off in the safest location you can find. If it's far from the Academy, then so be it, will fight our way to the entrance."​

​

Jax had his orders, get in to the Sith Academy and retrieve Sith Artifacts that the Sith have been using to amplify their power. If he was doing this solo then Jax would have no problem doing this except this time he had someone important to protect. "Aveline," Jax turned to his padawan placing his hand on her slender shoulder using the force calm her down. "How do you feel?" he asked giving her a smile.​

​

 

[Leon Gallo]

For Whom The Bell Tolls

On the Approach....​

Leon had spent most of the journey to Korriban practicing with sparring droids and other Jedi. He knew his mission was to protect the two leading the battle meld, and hopefully he wouldn't even need to activate his saber. Still, this was Korriban, the home of the Sith. It was doubtful he'd have that luxury. On top of that....He wanted to fight.

Korriban, Now. ​

Chills went down Leon's spine as they approached the landing site. Flak cannons and a sandstorm had rocked the ship heavily, but wasn't the source. The sinking pit in his stomach matched the goosebumps all along his skin. Each breath was labored as his throat and mouth dried to a point the young Jedi didn't think was possible. He'd felt fear before, but this...this was dread. Dread unlike anything Leon had ever felt before.

Nearby, one of the two Jedi he'd been tasked with protecting had fallen to his knees. Leon rushed to help Asmundr Varobalder . His calming presence had already been helping Leon stay calm, but seeing him nearly overwhelmed was discouraging. The Padawan attempted to help the golden-armored master to his feet before the doors opened.

"Yes, Master."

Sprinting from the landing zone, Leon focused on the sting of sand on his face. The pain kept him grounded to reality, kept the dread from reaching fully into him. This planet was wrong. It felt as if the entire world was darkness itself. The shadows of other strike teams rushing forward were distorted by the storm, and likely by whatever dark force resided on this world.

Just stay behind the masters. Follow them. If they get attacked, protect them. That's all you need to do.

Much easier to think that than to do that, as the wind battled against each step, and Sith far more experienced than him prepared to counter attack...

Objective: Defend Jedi master leading the battle meld.
Allies: Asmundr Varobalder Jannik Morlandt GA and Jedi
Enemies: Salamander and all Sith​

 

[Iasha Rha]

The red sand ripped at the black robes of the two acolytes as they stopped in front of the partially collapsed cave opening. One of them looked down at her datapad, then up at the weatherworn statues and broken mountains. She looked at the human next to her and nodded Korriban had become more hostile as of late. The archaeologists said it was near impossible to traverse.

‘The sandstorm nearly skinned me!’ one had told them.

Yet the two young Sith had set out in search of treasure and power.

“This is the place” - The red twi’lek said. “It should make a good addition to the ritual.”

They said the dark side needed to be harnessed, controlled, put into focus lest it spiral out of control. The galaxy had been in disturbance, and like many Sith, the Empire’s dealings with the Jedi had upset the balance. It had to be restored: The power for the sith to remain Eternal.

“Look here”

Iasha ran over to the opening and knelt down. Her hands brushed away sand as she uncovered a metal crate. Sith-Imperial make, but she couldn’t find its identification code. That was uncommon, it was more or less untraceable then. Perhaps it was smugglers? No, there were no tool marks, no scorching. The marks hadn’t been removed, they were simply never imprinted.

“Whatever went on here, they didn't want anyone to know about it.”

She looked to Alina, then stared into the darkness ahead. The cave called to them. Yet, at the same time, it looked like the waiting maw of a krayt dragon. Above were stalagtites, like giant teeth- Or perhaps they were carvings?

"What would the Empire hide from itself?"

Alina Tremiru Kat Decoria

 

[Aveline Cuiléin]

-

LOCATION: Korriban
EQUIPMENT: Meditation Amulet, Cosaint Bracers, Simple Jedi Robes
ALLY: Jax Thio | ENEMY: Pom Stych Tivé​

She was going to Korriban. Bloody Korriban. This was no drill, that was for sure. This was no space tussle against pirates over Yverna, nor a slaver's ambush on Deneba. This was kriffing Korriban. Home of the Sith. Heart of the Sith. Aveline barely knew what a Sith was. Obviously she had studied, she had been told... But there can be quite a leap from theory to practice.

Would she survive it? It was Korriban. Fethin Korriban. Probably not.

Her brown hair was tied up in ponytail to keep away from her face. She wore the simple Jedi robes she always did. They'd somehow always made her feel safe, but here they weighed heavy. More than simply foreign, she was distinctly not welcome here. Not just from the Sith ready to stand in defence, but the very soul of the planet itself she felt wanted nothing more than to spit her back out into the depths of space.

Korri-fethin-ban

She looked up at Jax, who comforted her through the Force. "I feel peachy" she lied. She felt empty, like a shell. Like there was nothing in her and she ought to be starving, but she felt nothing. It was as if every cell in her body understood that doom was near, and they put all of their tasks and concerns away. This was a all hands on deck situation. Suppose she ought to be grateful. She wouldn't be lazy, and slip up. But she might also not be alive in about two hours, so she was holding off on that whole gratitude business.

Aveline decided to be a little more honest. "Do you ever feel like you're being pulled to your death? Like the tractor beam of death has got you in her sights, and there's nothing you can do about it. You just slowly sink towards her" What was she doing here? She wasn't ready for this. She was just a Padawan, and a half-decent pilot. "How do you shake that, and get on with your orders?"