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

[Djorn Bline]

D I A M O N D _ S N A K E
GALACTIC ALLIANCE | NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
FELUCIA | KWAY TEOW OFFENSIVE
WOLFPACK | 71ST GHOST VIPERS
ARMOR | RIFLE | PISTOL | MELEE | GRENADES

L I V E _ T O _ W I N​

Snake and Cobra Squad finally made it to the top of of the city's wall, Djorn taking point as always while he waited for the rest of his team to land their feet on the wall's walkway. Twelve Cobras, including Diamond Snake, overlooked what what was within the wall’s perimeter. This settlement existed long before the Sith Empire came to conquer it and spread its perverted mystics to the tropical planet. It was the only major settlement to exist on Felucia with the rest of the population living in scattered towns among the diverse flora and fauna. Of course, from this peak he could spot major points of interest such as the capitol building, the military garrison, the main spaceport, and a complex what appeared to be a trade hub. Everything else compacted within were crowded buildings meant for residential or commercial purposes. The closer one got to the capitol district, the cleaner it was with immaculate organization. Typical to be found in cities of its kind; however, it was nowhere near impressive as infrastructure of Ravelin or Harnaidan - well, whatever was left of the latter after Article Five when the Sith Empire burnt it to a crisp with nuclear weapons.

He wondered if the Sith would adopt similar measures to ensure the victory would be costly for the Alliance; and if not, then what did they have in store?

The sensors of his helmet detected artillery fire that barraged the main gates of Kway Teow, the opposite end of where Djorn and his squad of Vipers stood on the wall. The Alliance started their assault when Seydou of Thyrsus communicated to Djorn via his vambrace that their march had begun.

Good.

The march to victory had begun.

Snake contacted the other platoon leaders of Python Compnay to march alongside Maynard's Wolfpack, assuming positions for long-range encounters against the enemy. Sniping positions on the wall's battlements and other defensive positions. They were trained in both conventional and unconventional tactics, favoring the latter as it was what they specialized; however, they could always switch roles if needed to. Just as long as they had the support of armor and artillery, they could work efficiently for conventional purposes. Ultimately, it was a waste of their talents to operate such outright methods in Djorn's perspective due to their roles as special operatives. He had his own methods that clashed with the operations of the campaign, personally would've romanticized and executed a strategy that would have them infiltrate within Kway Teow and sabotage them within, thus making an exterior full forward assault much more effective and daunting for the S-IMPS. An operation that would be perfect for the talents of COMPNOR operatives such as Jaeger Harrsk and Hunter Blackburn .

At the end, however, this was not his operation to make the executive calls. This gambit of the Alliance was meant to be swift without much resources to be exhausted.

<"Cooperate with the Alliance commanding officers, just for tonight. One damn night, and that is all. Let's not make our blood and sweat mean nothing after marching through these damn forsaken jungles,"> although he was fortunate this was Felucia and not the damnations of Umbara. The order was given to all platoon leaders of Cobra as he could not give command while staging his own tactics on the rear wall which were unsuspected as he breathed this very moment. They would honor and acknowledge the command of Maynard Treicolt , even though he suspected there would be some minor cases of hesitation and bickering. The zealous Imperial training they received would kick in as they would find it, in a way, offensive to be ordered by those not of their banner.

<"Outrider, this is Diamond Snake. My platoon lieutenants of Python Company will be under your command...for the night,"> that took a little bit to swallow and utter those words. He didn't like it as much as his subordinates, giving command to a foreign army despite being familiar with them after a months worth of marching. <"You tell them what, when, and where; do not tell them how. They're more than capable of how to do their jobs. That is all, over."> Closing the comm transmission from their secured channels after communicating with Treicolt.

<"What about us, Snake? What are our orders, sir?"> the sergeant of Cobra Squad inquired to Djorn. They were too far away to rendezvous at the main gate and sabotage whatever defensive installations the S-IMPs had to harass and counter the offensive assault of the Alliance. If he wanted to, he wouldn't have fancied this maneuver to the rear wall and instead would've collaborated with Maynard on a solution to disable the defenses of the main gate. And right now? Well, he wasn't going to wait on damn orders what to do. It was just him and his squad, and that was it.

<"Screw it,"> he said at first before following, <"we're on our own for this one, boys. Just us twelve and whatever this city has in store,"> if it wasn't obvious, he could hear the sirens of the city wailing at every corner of Kway Teow. Its purpose to warn those within the city of the Alliance attack that was now underway. <"We do what we do best; we go by my book, my rules. Exactly how I trained you.">

Guerilla warfare and saboteur tactics in an urban environment. They would be silent dagger to pierce the ribcage of the Sith and sink its blade into their lung. Of course, with a city that was probably now in panic from being sieged it would be a nuisance to maneuver through the city, for anyone despite their intentions. That is if that was the case.

<"We're descending now, Cobra Squad. Have your grappling hooks secured on to something, we can head towards the communication centre; apparently, there's an asset tasked in disabling the centre. Rendezvous with them, before finding a target to attack. Let's find some landspeeders to cover ground when we reach down.">

Their grappling hooks latched on to any device that was secured to rappel into the city. After their descent, Snake took point of his squad and began to move into what appeared to be ghetto district judging by its facade and appearance. They moved out into the street, blasters trained and ready to fire upon anyone that was a hostile, military or civilian militia. At least it offered them a lot of parked, vacated speeders; exactly what they needed.

He then opened a secured transmission via comms with the man; the survivor; the wild card: Aerarii Tithe .

<"Callsign Usury, this is Diamond Snake. Do you read me? What is your status? How close are you in completing your assignment? I have squad heading towards your position to extract you, over.">


ALLIES | GA | NIO | Loske Treicolt | Maynard Treicolt | Seydou of Thyrsus | Aerarii Tithe | Top Bishop | Kir Dantos
ENEMIES | TSE | Eldaah Aderyn | Karn Zhakul | Lunafreya Solidor Madelyn Lowe

 

[Mato Kejak]

​

Location: Valley of the Dark Lords, Tomb of Darth Bane
Allies: Auteme Lucien Dooku
Enemies: Darth Aurum Lark

Mato strained to listen against the storm, though he could still make out the young Sith's words fairly clearly; more difficult by far was the sense within the Force. The ritual, one that had the spirits of the planet whipped up into a frenzy, was proceeding along at a rapid pace, fed by the blood being shed all across Korriban's surface both willingly and unwillingly. It was nearly sickening, but Mato knew he could stand firm against such perversions, as he had many times before—and the meld, straining against the storm of Darkness though it was, made resisting it a trivial matter.

"So it is, Lark," he said, with a nod. "It is true, no-one will be remembered forever, but there is no shame in seeking to make a better mark on history than your current path will." This Sith was an odd one, though not entirely unwelcome to the elder Master. Few even thought to engage in such conversations at all. A short ways away, he heard the clash of blade on blade as Lucien moved to do battle with the golden one, drawing attention away from Auteme. For all the conflict he could sense in the boy's soul, he was, at least, devoted to his duty. That was something Mato could easily respect.

He hefted his blade, raising it up into a high stance; guard level with his eyes, tip angled slightly back, right foot forward, and body invitingly centered on his foe. A highly aggressive stance in appearance, though as of yet he did not move to begin the attack. "Is there any family you would wish your remains delivered to, once this is done?" he asked, standing still, ready for combat at a moment's notice. "Or, like so many other Sith, have you abandoned even that last shred of Light in your life? I would not leave you to rot among these sands if there yet exists some other who would find peace in having you returned to them, at this, the end of your journey."

 

[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

Ingrid leaned against the wall in silence, waiting for Beltran to look through the containers. As she said, there were no relics or artefacts in it, nor anything that the Force might have imbued through. These were really just archaeological things that meant anything to collectors or museums, and to others they were just rubbish. After so much time, it would have been hard enough to believe that any relic remained in this place. At least there’s what they’ve discovered before. At most, there was still anything where an overly strong opponent defended it.

She still didn't attack, just waited, she had time and didn't set a trap. At least here, another issue is that not only Adrian and Avernus were felt in the tomb, but even more. But she wasn't worried about them, she could still summon from one, and Beltran couldn't destroy the other permanently, sending him back to the Netherworld at most. Why would she be worried? Especially that she already thought the Nether Knights were ready and the soul had been planted in them. The man hadn't shown enough of the Force before to cause trouble, and Ingrid has only gotten stronger since then, especially in a place like Korriban.

”I really wouldn’t want to go there in your place. Even I don’t like to do it, though let’s face it, we’re pretty much the same in combat, but I’m definitely better at using Force.”

She knew that if a man could see through Force what he could perceive/sense from the tomb, he would feel the blood demon, one of the Death’s Claws, the unknown spirit (Avernus), and another aura. Well, yes that was the last thing uncomfortable, because Adrian's aura could already be felt by the man on the Voss, and then Ingrid did everything she could to keep the man and the padawan from entering the tower. After being there and the same person looking after Ingrid it could no longer be hard to put together who it was, it was Adrian.

For now, however, the red-haired woman hadn't moved, as if everything was as fine as possible. She didn't have to do it, the demon and the Claw were masterful sorcerers, and she actually felt sorry for the man for even a moment. She could have gone into the tomb, no one would have hurt her, as the Knights were about to do, but she didn't want to disturb the man with her proximity. If Beltran was really going closer, after a few metres, something climbed out from inside and stopped at the door. It was the creature or thing the man was most afraid of.

”I told you to leave it at that…”

 

[Lunafreya Solidor]

O B J E C T I V E | Revenge of the Sith
L O C A T I O N | Garaug City.
T A G S | Djorn Bline
T H E M E | Here.
V O I C E | Here.
G E A R | Armor, Ring,
Lightsaber, Whip.

​

The skies belonged to her, nothing stood in her way as she flew on the backs of that beast to the field of glory. Her intent was far beyond bringing further accomplishment to the Empire, this was her debut, meant to serve to draw attention and create a name for her false identity as a mysterious Sith Lord and grew on Sith’s court and create yet another sanctuary for her petty kingdom in this vast galaxy. To allow the name of Darth Asphodel to grow until it became a whisper in the ear of the Sith Emperor himself, by taking her place as a warlord and Moff within their ranks while keeping her true identity hidden from all harm of her former allies. Her legs slammed the spurs on the sides of that frightening creature directing it to go down from the safety of the clouds and bring her hellish name to the city, and assist it in turning its invaders to dust.

As she descended from the skies, with her fell beast under her lap, Lunafreya felt as if she was some sort of a goddess. Coming down from the heavens to deliver punishment on the wicked and unfaithful, the very idea of it made her lips twist on a sickly smile, that grew as she fell, and grew until it became laughter of pure ecstasy and arrogance, her hands released the reins of her saddle and called upon the fiery will of her heart, creating flames on a safe distance for those flames to sustain themselves and multiply until it became a small volley of rain fire coming down alongside her. Her feet slammed it against the spurs on the sides of the creature, as its wave of paralytic horror became their shield, as it roared its scream of defiance bathed in disgust for all those that were considered his master’s enemies.

“Tremble, children of Light, for your false heroism will be choked under my majesty!”, her voice was bathed with the darkness, and to listen to it was the same as shivering, she knew it for she could feel it, the little bursts of energy running through her body as it bristled on adrenaline and anxiety. With the will of a tyrant, Lunafreya pulled the reins forcing the creature to stop its descent, forcing it to fly over the buildings, with enough distance for its sharp claws grabbing and propelling a group of enemy soldiers from the top of one of those buildings, knocking those hit by its impact on a deadly strike against the floor, while those locked on her paws were agonizingly crushed, for when she forced the beast to turn around, Asphodel forced her pet to toss them like sacks of dead meat, enhanced on their mass by the speed of their fall. Maliciously chanting as she jumped from the saddle of her pet, gliding fast towards the ground, closing her arms as she stood still, hands inside her body and cloak covering her body. “Such as we are made of, such we be.” And above them, hell befell from the firmament, on her fighting hand, the lightsaber of power shone with its shining bloody light and her feet danced like those of an eagle, jumping on the ground descending her strike to slash in half the nearest soul within her grasp.

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Olen Halcorr Daz Farlander Teica Giraan
​

Galactic Alliance 3rd Sector Fleet "Battlegroup Kenobi"
Flagship 'Ouroboros'
Approaching Felucia High Orbit
Operation Starhold

The Sith fleet over Felucia was crumbling beneath the Galactic Alliance's assault. Outnumbered but by no means outgunned the fleet continued to push its position forward, unimpeded by the Sith vessels. Turbolaser volleys glanced off of the massive Star Defender, splashing the video feeds with green light and rocking the ship but the attacks weren't anything the crew was truly worried about. The bridge officers barked commands at their pit crews as the battle ebbed and flowed around the Ouroboros which were then relayed to gunnery crews and then targeting computers. Reports from the ground were still coming in. It looked like General Treicolt was having a rougher time of things than he was, but that was to be expected. The Sith had weeks to prepare for a final push but between their recent defense of Dantooine and their defeats at the hand of the New Imperial Order along the Braxant Run and their losses against the Silver Jedi Concord prior to their Elder Council agreement, he knew the once-dominant war machine of the Sith Empire was bleeding out quickly. Every day they lost ships as they attempted to fight wars on too many fronts.

And Dracken didn't have much sympathy for them.

"Order the cruiser line to pull back. We have them on the run, we don't want to give them any more momentum than we have to." Dracken's voice was calm but it was clear he intended the orders to be followed quickly. His eyes watched the tactical display hovering in front of his command chair and frowned. What were they hiding? The space battle shouldn't be going this easy even with all the losses they'd taken. He narrowed his eyes at the display, a feeling of dread beginning to fall over him. No. Something had to be coming.

 

[First Sister]

Location: Temple of Sacrifice - Korriban
Allies: Arctus Silmar Ladybug Darth Carnifex Other Space Kaiden
Enemies: Shaka Sunstar Oceiros Sunstrider Coren Starchaser

The crown rested heavy over her narrow shoulders.

In spite of the Dark Lord’s confidence in her abilities, in some ways the crown felt unearned, the blade felt profane, even in the grasp of her fingers, trained as she was in the ancient ways of sorcery and magic. While her will was indomitable, her desire to snuff the Light unyielding, Athanasia could feel the sensation of self-doubt lurking in her mind, building a fortress of chains that sought to disturb her focus.

Was she good enough?

Was she strong enough?

Would Typhojem sense her weakness?

Did she deserve this?

No.

Athanasia gave a groan of frustration, her body straining under the pain inflicted by the mark on her bosom, in addition to the seemingly unbearable weight of responsibility, the looming realization that the defense of Korriban’s sanctity depended on her, even though she was not yet considered to be a full Kissai priestess. The battle transpiring outside the shield Dark Side energy played out in her mind to a similar degree of struggle, the forces of doubt and determination waging a war of attrition against each other that very nearly paralyzed her judgement.

No.

She had to fight it.

She had to break the fortress of chains she had built in her mind.

Her anger, feral and Dark, manifested in a high-pitched howl that tore from her lips, followed by a long and frantically spoken incantation in ur-Kittât, the words having been burned into her memory through long hours of study and the gifts of the Left-Handed God. In charging the ritual, she began to channel her emotions into it, those of crippling self-doubt, insecurity, and raw anger, poured into a song of sorcery as the spell began to take shape in her mind.

It would be only moments before her magic was made manifest...

Spoiler: Gear and Equipment

• Athanasia’s Kissai Priestess Dress │ Shield Talisman │ The Iron Crown
  • Energy Shield
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
  • Utility
    • Sith Grimoire
• SIF-7 ‘Minos’
• Ritual Dagger

 

[Vaylin]

Location: Korriban - Sith Academy
Allies: Gnox the Insatiable | Maple Harte
Enemies: Allyson Locke | Zaavik Perl
Objective: Hunt the Corellian, and her Little Padawan too.
Equipment: Armour & Dual Blades
________________________________________________________________________
​

The Zabrak could feel the Force being twisted and turned across the planet. She could feel the Dark Side being fed into its endless appetite by other Sith, but also the ever encroaching Light Side that was being bolstered by the Jedi. The former fed into Vaylin, the dark side energies that coursed through her body like blood sang in response.

Oh today was a wonderful day for battle.

Her infernal powers died down as Allyson just barely dodged the last fireball, scorching across her ‘precious’ leather jacket. There was a shift in the Force again, much more closer and definitely seeped within the Light.

What did the Corellian just do? Vaylin was curious, but knew she’d find her answer soon enough. Allyson leaped up onto the rafters, landing before her. The Zabrak grinned beneath her mask, happy that her target had opted to meet her directly.

“An interesting proposal, Locke. But why not just hand yourself over, be done with it?”

Both women knew the Zabrak was talking chit, no way was Vaylin going to not fight right now. Much as she wanted to have the Coriellian in her possession, she wasn’t going to accept the woman simply surrendering herself without a fight.

Vaylin stepped back as Allyson charged, shifting her footing into a defensive position. She raised her more solid sword, blocking the Corellian’s swing as it came soaring down towards her shoulder. The blades clashed, metal meeting lightsaber as they sparked together. The odd chime/grind sound it produced was almost musical in nature.

She could feel the added strength behind Allyson’s attack, the bolstering effect of Force Valor that was now shared between Master and Padawan. Vaylin batted the Corellian’s lightsaber away, then swung in for her own blow. Her second; more jagged edged blade, aimed across Allyson’s stomach in an attempt to rip ‘n’ tear.

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Grand Vizier Madelyn Lowe
Location: Kway Teow Relay Station, Felucia
Objective: Move to the relay station, defend Kway Teow.
Attn:
Aerarii Tithe | Maynard Treicolt | Captain Raith | Loske Treicolt |
Eldaah Aderyn | Karn Zhakul

“We have faced serious hardship, and fought a war fraught with suffering. All of us have sacrificed something. Much has been lost already.”
-Madelyn Lowe, Grand Vizier inauguration ceremony.​

Once inside, Madelyn wasted no time striding over to the centre console. The Alliance battlegroup had pressed forward and arranged itself around the city, waiting for the moment to attack. The Sith understood their methods, understood the skill of their soldiers, their commander’s reliance on using materiel efficiently, on outsmarting their enemy. They would not be given the luxury of such coordination today.

“Are we operational?” She asked one of the staff, receiving a grim nod in return. “Excellent.” She said, cracking her knuckles and pushing down a green key on the console, leaning in and speaking out clearly, her melodious voice spilling out across all wavelengths.

<: “Good evening citizens, Galactic Alliance Defence Force, General Treicolt, and all listeners. It is has been a long and dark night, but it will be a bright morning for The Sith. After a month of jungle combat, The Alliance and its soldiers will finally learn the consequences of meddling with the affairs of our Empire. Our will is iron. Watch them crawl from the dark, dash themselves against the rocks if they must. They will come to realise their deaths mean little.” :>

Madelyn smiled slightly to herself, watching the blinking light of the broadcast for a slim moment before continuing.

<: “Have faith my fellow Sith-Imperials. Kway Teow shall see the night through.” :>

She took her finger off the key, and gestured broadly to one of the aides, who gazed at her nervously before shuffling over. Madelyn looked the person up and down, and cracked her knuckles.

“Do we have any Armada forces available in-atmosphere?” Madelyn asked, prompting the aide to flick frantically through a nearby holoscreen, frowning at the display before answering slowly.

“Yes ma’am, but only a small task force- and they’ve sustained damage.”

Madelyn bit her lip, leaning over to skim over the aides display and see for herself. She steepled her hands, nodding to herself after a time.

“Send them here. I want the Alliance assault blunted however we can.”

The aide appeared a little shaken, but simply replied “Yes Ma’am,” turning heel to follow through with the order. It would take time to contact the group and summon them here. Longer still for the ships to arrive. Hopefully, the garrison and the wall defences could stem the tide until then.

Explosions rumbled outside, rattling the metallic flooring of the relay station. A second, closer report sounded from just outside. Madelyn did her best to dismiss it. The sentries would take care of it, of course. No business for her. Still, the sound tugged at her, nagging. Outside, Legionnaires peered off of parapets, over blaster barrels and scorched barricades into the green haze of the jungle, waiting for the figure of an Alliance soldier to pass by, else firing into the dim in the direction of a streaking bolt of fired plasma. Somewhere in there, too, bands of Graug set upon the weary soldiers. She did not envy them.

Madelyn wondered if her words were true, beaming out across Felucia for all to hear. Would they see it through, or would they fall underfoot as before, to be trampled again?

​

 

[Dimitri Voltura]

ALLIES: Darth Strosius | Other Sith​

ENEMIES: GA/NIO

ENGAGING: Kenth Ordo | Karn Syndulla

GEAR:

Spoiler

Cortosis-weave and Force imbued armour | Lightsaber | Force imbued Sith Sword

​

He recognised it immediately when it happened.

It saddened him in a way - to see one so young fall so quickly. This caused him to let up on the Lightning the moment the dead Masters gained control. He took a step back, gathering his Force defences close, pulling ever harder on the Nexus within the Valley which was fueled by the fear and despair and hatred and loss. Why did the Jedi have to come here? What did it cost them to do this? To hit at the spiritual heart of the Sith only yielded results such as this - utter corruption of a Padawan.

He could feel the Darkness within the Jedi. For someone this young and not used to Dark Side in full swing, it would be a shock to the system. He cursed the spirits for taking control and forcing his hand in this endeavour. His face was full of disgust as he looked at the now-yellow eyes. Yet, he could not allow this man to go on a Dark-possessed, bloodthirsty rampage.

Focusing his amber gaze, he seized the Padawan's mind with his own while it was still in turmoil and trying to warn his friends. Dimitri launched a psychic assault on the Jedi's mind to vie for control. Channeling the Nexus, the Sith Lord flooded Kenth Ordo 's psyche with more Darkness. The sheer power of the Nexus hammered against that of the Dark Lords.
>>You had your chance, Masters. Leave.<< he spoke to them within the Jedi's mind, while still flooding in Darkness and wrestling for control.

While he was busy seizing the Padawan's mind, he also sent the Tuk'ata at Kenth Ordo , ordering it to grab hold of the Jedi and to not let go. The Sith Hound executed the order flawlessly, gripping one of Kenth Ordo 's armoured arms and dancing around him, pulling him to the ground and keeping him there, standing behind and just out of reach of the other arm while keeping hold of the one in his jaws.

Dimitri also still kept his lightsaber at the ready and kept the Dark Side of the Force close through it all.

 

[Bernard of Arca]

​

Objective: Sabotage the Academy
Foe: Darth Daiara
Jedi Strike Team Vos
\\ > Status Unknown
Go!

​

There wasn't much of the shelf left when the Sith fell to one knee. One out of two dozen were far from great odds, but now that he managed to pierce the Sith's defences doing so again wouldn't be as hard.

Bernard kept pressing his advantage. Another volley of stun bolts lit up the chamber as he pulled the triggers in random patterns in an attempt to keep the Sith from settling into her combat rhythm.

The Sith answered the volley with her lightsabre. It ignited behind the shield of tomes before it fell apart. She slashed at the rings as they sped towards her, the blade's crimson hue shifting to purple whenever it cut apart blue bolts.

Bernard cursed under his breath. His deductive abilities did not measure up against an opponent who was his equal. He couldn't remember the last time he had faced another Force User over the recent few years. Worse yet, he barely had a few steps along the shelf left to decide on how to press his advantage.

Hurried footsteps rang out towards them. The Acolytes had finally caught up. Their arrival made Bernard's odds for a clean getaway plummet.

"Force-forsaken-," another curse escaped him and, for the briefest moment, he chided himself for having developed the habit of smearing the Force's sanctity so readily over his tenure with the Marshals.

The Sith seemed equally surprised about the acolytes' arrival. She had turned her attention away Bernard to warn the two newcomers, even going so far as to shove them with the Force, effectively nullifying her numbers advantage. It took Bernard by surprise. He had expected the three to jump at the chance of killing a live Jedi, especially here on Korriban. He was too short on time to dwell on the sudden contradiction, more importantly, too short on shelf-length. He would have to improvise. He hated improvising.

The prospect of advancing towards a sabre-wielding opponent with nothing but blasters made him nervous, but it was also his best opportunity to bring their fight to an expedient end. With his last few steps on the shelf's edge, he crouched low in preparation of another leap. Once he felt his boot bend on the shelf's end, he pushed off it as hard as he could.

Only to fly into what felt like a wall. Bernard's entire body was seized just after he had made it off the bookcase in a telekinetic grip. The sudden lack of control over his own body caused him to fly helplessly in a parabolic arc and right onto the floor. He tumbled over, and one of his blasters fell free from his hand. It slid alongside him on the durasteel floor until he crashed against metal guardrails, saving him from a steep drop down into a set of tables, but not his blaster.

"Undo it," the Sith demanded.

He scoffed.

The impact still had him shaken, and his opponent's power still bore down on him.

With a grunt, he concentrated on his own abilities enough to reestablish the protective Force barrier around his body, at least in part. Enough to force his blaster up and train it at the Sith. The barrel trembled in his hand as he glared at the Sith on the other side of it.

"Why should I?" He shot back. The words didn't come easy against the telekinetic grip.

 

[Hal Vaiken]

NEW JEDI ORDER
OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY
SOMEWHERE NEAR THE VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS
ENGAGING: Darth Strosius

J A M B I
​

The series of battering strikes against the Sith's defense ceased as the latter strengthened his footing and shifted into a counter-attack. Red and blue blades locked together in a fervent display of the struggle between the Light and Dark. Sweat rolled down his face as the heat of the two sabers clasped so intimately to the faces of Jedi and Sith. He could feel the masked man's breath.

"Pretty ruthless for a Jedi, feeling the strength in your hatred yet?"

Tycho squinted at the man's taunt, failing both to ignore it and to shove him away. Hatred. What did this fool know of hatred? He recalled the sorrow as his first wife died in his arms murdered in cold blood by Sith, he recalled the hatred and ruthlessness through which he sought his vengeance. These destructive emotions stirred from their pacified slumber and pummeled at the barrier of light conjured by Asmundr Varobalder and Zark San Tekka . It held the rising tide of darkness from breaking through.

For how long?

Colors subtly danced in the Jedi Padawan's eyes as he stared at the faceless man across the locked blades.

"Tell me, what happens if you Jedi somehow win today? Train your little Padawans amongst the tombs of great Sith and expect them not to fall to us? I'm genuinely curious!"

The darkness inside aided by the corruption of the planet strained against the chains of light and screeched in a futile attempt to reply through Tycho's voice. The Jedi licked his teeth as the burden of fighting two battles - one with the Sith and one within - crashed upon his shoulders seeking to break his spine completely. In the moments of greatest turmoil and struggle, the spacer's humor pierced through a shit-eating grin:

"Send y'all to Zeltros...

ease off that tension."​

​

He thrust his back into the interlock, pulling on his physical strength to shove the Sith away, followed by a leaping overhead strike.

GA | ALLIES | Kenth Ordo | Zark San Tekka | Aramis Sunstrider | Karn Syndulla
TSE | ENEMIES | Dimitri Voltura

 

[Iasha Rha]

Alina Tremiru Kat Decoria

Iasha didn't put much into the offering of a hand. It wasn't a grand gesture of friendship everlasting nor a refutation of the core tenets of their belief, but she would suppose it could be a sign that she thought they fought better together than apart. If not, then she would have gone alone, wouldn't she? Time would tell what she would do if Alina became a liability. The Sith demanded she let her the liability destroy itself and ensure that the Sith remained everlasting. She thought that was what she would do. Only time would tell if she could.

Acolytes were not Lords of the Sith. Not yet.

She shook the fear off her and focused.

Alina climbed high and fast, and Iasha watched the acolyte with some apprehension. Then nodded and funnelled the Force into her body "I can." She stepped back, then took a running start. Her feet touched the rougher parts of the surface as she kicked herself up vertically into a tall jump. Her hand stretched out, reaching for Alina to seize, to reciprocate their silent agreement of mutual usefulness.

But just as she jumped, what she heard made the blood drain from her face. "No.. No. No!"

As Alina charged the shadowy beast she saw in her mind, Iasha found her fingers rake through the air where she had expected Alina's hand to be. She flailed in an attempt at catching herself, but found no purchase until she brought her sabre around and plunged it into the door. A long mark of melted matter glowed angrily as she slowed herself with the blade and purchase it bought her with her feet. With a twist, she kicked off and caught the side of the door with her left hand, then swung herself up to Alina, where she landed barely in a roll.

She groaned as she stood up. Her ears caught a sound. "Someone's coming."

"We need to hurry. There." She pointed toward the small flight of stairs ascending into the bright, red glow of the tomb's inner sanctum. It radiated viciously, being somehow hot and cold at the same time. The room ahead of them had statues standing along a seemingly inaccessible mezzanine. There racks in its domed ceiling, through which descended dry, black roots which greedily clung to every surface. They looked both dead and alive at once. Iasha rushed ahead, sabre still in hand, eyes focused only on the glowing archway through which they would find their purpose.

Her procession was, however, suddenly halted as a black vine wrapped itself around her foot and flung her flat on her back, the air escaping her lungs. More of the vines crawled toward them as the guardian of the tomb awakened.

 

[Baahlaa Nen]

KORRIBAN
Orbit

​

Baahlaa's ship, a YT-1300. Jumped out of hyperspace and with her some civilians who had finally had enough of The Sith Empire. Some of them included Smugglers, Farmers, and Traders. Their vessels were small but they could take care of the fighters. They are all here to aid the Galactic Alliance in this most critical fight.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Alina took several ragged breaths as she let herself recover from her outburst. The sound of Iasha Rha landing beside her reminded her that she had offered help to the Twi'lek. Momentary worry was in her gaze as she glanced to the fellow acolyte, then relief. She'd been able to recover on her own. No time to talk about it. Her yellow eyes stared back towards the way they came, narrowing. Someone was indeed coming. Not good. There was a swift nod as the human followed after the other, slipping through the door and rushing to the stairs.

"This.. Plants don't grow on Korriban. Not like this." Her gaze narrowed in suspicion as the roots came into view. This was unnatural, even for the Sith. Or maybe she had yet to come across a tome that spoke of alchemized plants. Perhaps she really shouldn't be so surprised with a nameless Sith Tomb like they were in. The woman took several steps in as she scanned for a sign of.. Something. A source? Artifact? Whatever might be in the middle of this tomb, any sign of the Sith that was buried here.

Nothing. Just vines and- Wait. One moved. Alina peered suspiciously at the root in question before the sound of Iasha being slammed to the ground had her turn her head. The vines were animated! She hissed in annoyance as her saber sprung back to life and she swiped at some of the roots crawling towards her, then through the one wrapping it's way up Iasha's leg. "On your feet! We can't stay here!"

Kat Decoria

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Exiled Grandmaster Coren Starchaser
Fighting Sith
Protecting the light​

To say that war never changed was, in Coren’s opinion, pretty accurate. But if war didn’t change, it evolved through its players. Sailing vessels and slugthrowers became space faring vessels and blasters. The Dark Side was always evolving to subjugate the galaxy. And the Light Side was always reaching to protect those that the Dark Side wished to strike. But here, in this galaxy, on this world, the Jedi themselves were evolving to fight back. Coren Starchaser had spent time hunting jedi relics, hunting stories of the Skywalkers and Solos, in order to push the darkness back.

He knew that he had others here, he had Ryv , the Sword of the Jedi, and what the Knight lacked in Coren’s experience, he made up for in stones. He looked to his companion who was making a connection, and when he spoke, Coren grinned. “I never doubted it.” And at that, his own gold saber ignited, filling the air with that telltale hum of the blade.

There is no emotion, there is peace. The Jedi Code bled into his mind as Darth Carnifex spoke. A grin on the Jedi Master’s face told him all he needed to hear. There was bait, but Coren wasn’t coming in as headstrong as before. He normally would state that he needn’t the assistance of another. Today, and going forward, he knew that the Jedi depended on their own. It was what set them apart from the Sith. And ti was what made the recent weeks so difficult in the Concord.

As the Sith stepped forward, the Jedi Master nodded. “You’ll have to earn it first.” As the sword was coming down for his crown, as his golden hued saber met it. The other blade, its hilt on his chest, jumped to Coren’s free hand and as he did his best to deflect and redirect the Dark Lord’s swing, knowing he couldn’t match the Sith pound for pound, the green-aqua blade lit in Coren’s left hand, an invert grip as he swung his arm out, intent for the Sith’s hip, using the momentum to push himself away from a second swing.

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

Sith Academy Roof
Writing With: Nida Perl | Kyra Perl (Closed)
​

"Very well."

The image of Nida sitting at the rooftop's center flickered and faded into nothing, causing Thirdas' battle-hardened instincts to kick in. Immediately he realised her trick, and swung his rifle around to scan the area for signs of an ambush. As soon as he did, a purple blur coupled with a streak of crimson appeared from behind one of the rooftop decorations.

Before he could act the red saber sliced his rifle in half, causing the long barrel to drop to the ground. He'd only just been able to remove his left hand from the front grip, or he would have been well and truly disarmed right there and then.

Tossing what remained of his rifle (thankfully not his mother's!), Thirdas deflected Nida's lightsaber as it swung around and made its way back to its master using his cybernetic arm. Spark flew as it glanced off the phrik casing, leaving a glowing trail where blade met metal.

As Nida closed in on him with supernatural speed, he went for his sidearm in one hand and his trusty handaxe from home in the other, taking aim with the former and preparing to block with the latter in case she decided to swing for him.

He fired off a few rounds in her direction, aiming for her legs in the hopes that it if hit she would simply stumble and be left at their mercy.

 

[Pan Markus]

KORRIBAN
Space Battle

​

Pan Markus was one of the one's who joined Baahlaa in the space battle above, he piloted a YT-1300f, just like the Legendary Ship the Millennium Falcon. Which was his favorite when he was a kid. He got turned on the shields while his droids got into the turrets to fight off the fighters. His co-pilot was also a droid, similar to that of HK-47.

 

[Darth Daiara]

Location: Korriban Sith Academy - Library
Writing With: Bernard of Arca

Spoiler: The Story

Objective: Sabotage
Foe: Darth Daiara
Jedi Strike Team Vos
\\> Zaavik Perl , Allyson Locke
Face to Face

The blip of a radar punctuated the silence periodically. The expected note, the same low-pitched pulse as it ever was, faded into the hangar control room's background like wallpaper. The officer leaning against the radar machine barely noticed the noise as it went off, time after time after time, again and again without fail.

"Hey Xin, catch the game last night?" Strata came in as the door opened and closed again with a quiet swoosh.

"Sure have," the officer perked up from his station.

"The Grotworms owned that arena. Showed those Shyracks what for, they did."

"Yeah, lost me a solid fifty credits is what they did," he sighed and turned back to the circular radar motion.

Strata's arrival and shift start usually marked a turning point for radar duty, though not today.

"You bet against them?" He continued as he took his seat. "What lazerbrain bets against the, and I quote, 'most winningest team in the entire history of Huttball'?"

"This one."

Xin let himself sink into his chair in an exaggeration of his defeat. As he did, however, the radar produced a loud whine, causing him to startle. His elbow slipped beyond the radar's table, and his face fell face-first into the console. The screen produced a loud crack that made both officers jump in their seats.

"Sithspit!" Xin yelled.

They spent the next few moments in silence, staring intently at the radar machine.

The whine was gone. The radar broke.

"Chit, chit, chit!" Xin cursed. He started flipping switches and hitting buttons all over the console. Strata leapt from his seat and knelt beside the machine. The two fumbled around it, scrambling to find a way to restore its functionality.

"What in Corellia's Seven hells was that?"

"I don't know! I don't care! I'm dead, man! Dead!"

The X-Wing's modified landing gear stuck to the rock better than ten metric tons of deadweight should allow. Its cockpit depressurized with a hiss. A relentless hail of sand knocked against the canopy. It gave way to the deafening howl of the raging storm as the canopy lifted, instantly covering the cockpit's inside with a thin layer of red dust.

Bernard didn't mind. Most of it wouldn't stick anyways. With one hand on the seatbelt, and the other firmly grabbing the cockpit's side, he positioned his feet against the edge of the control panel. He took a breath through the cloth wrapped over his lower face and pushed against it as hard as he could.

His legs kept him trapped against the stiff cushioning of the seat, pinning him in place. He let the breath out and tapped the seatbelt release. Immediately, gravity kicked in, but his body didn't budge from the seat.

He didn't linger in the sense of relief for long. Carefully, he grabbed the side of the cockpit with his now free hand and began to release the tension in his legs.

His grip was firm, and with cat's grace, he lowered himself out of the pilot's seat and beyond the cockpit's sides, until his body swayed in the wind outside the flipped X-Wing. Seeing the starfighter upside down, stuck to the underside of a cliff face, filled him with a certain amount of anxiety. He glanced away from it, towards its nose tip, then beyond at the cliff itself.

The orange-red stone became his first sight of the Sith's homeworld. He felt a small part of him deflate at that realization. In all his years of anticipation for this moment, he'd never envisioned the first glimpse of the Sith's ancestral homeworld like this. Throughout his youth, he assumed his first glimpse of Korriban would include a battlefield of some sort, not what amounted to a big rock.

It was cold too. The holos made Korriban look like a superheated desert, with a relentless sun that looked to break the planet's inhabitants more than it wanted to give warmth. But the wind flowed in frigid streams around his fingers, numbing them to the touch of the cockpit.

He took it as his cue to keep going.

His fingers, still burning from the frigid air, were slowly regaining some feeling as they held the access panel. Taking as much care as his numbed fingers allowed, he placed the cover back into its socket to seal away the entrance again.

It slid into place with a quiet click, and the wind's whine faded to a low hum. Sand finally stopped streaming into the tunnel. A cloud of it already cast dancing shadows in the dim, red glow of the ceiling lights as it settled on the floor. The target was somewhere at the end of this length of corridors.

Taking what might be his last moment of calm for a while, he shook loose all the dust from his clothes in the process and began to check his equipment. He'd been prudent enough to keep the charges hidden beneath his navy blue overcoat, along with his lightsabre. The matte black weapon wasn't the sabre he had built as a Padawan, that one had disappeared into the oceans of Brentaal, rather it had been the sabre of a long-dead ancestor.

But it was unlikely to see any use today, not that he had ever used it before. Instead, he unholstered two blasters. They were heavy models with low fire rates but packed a serious punch. He'd also gone to great lengths to mod both with a noise reduction field specifically for this mission.

Satisfied that his equipment was in order, he started down the corridors.

He dropped to the floor without causing a sound between two holo-bookshelves at the back of the library.

Bernard found himself on the second floor. The library hall was vast and filled to the brim with all kinds of forbidden texts and sacrilegious knowledge. This was his target, the future of the Sith.

With a quick push through the Force, he slid the panel over the access tunnel entrance above him and crouched against one of the massive shelves. He holstered one blaster and reached into his overcoat to pull one of the explosives free. The cylinder fit neatly into his palm, with a flat side that held a magnetic hook.

He regarded it for several moments. Up until this point he'd never actually held anything akin to it, especially not while deep inside hostile territory.

But he shook away that thought and went to work while the library was still empty.

The charges weren't very complicated to set up. The magnetic hook attached to a wall or shelf and a few taps activated the timer and primed the explosive. The timer ensured that, even in the event of his death or capture, the charges still went off. That inevitability was far from comforting.

Once the last one was in place and doubly checked it was time to proceed to the second part of his mission. For that, he would have to head to the central information storage.

He started backtracking to his point of entry but froze in place a moment later.

The library's doors swooshed open just below him, and the sound of footsteps echoed, along with voices.

"You just wait, when I become a Sith I'll show that traitor Irveric Tavlar what we can do!" The voice was too high-pitched to belong to one of the warriors or the security forces.

"And that coward Ryv Karis too!" Another of the group giggled.

Bernard didn't dare to move in the shadows above.

Location: Korriban Sith Academy - Library
Writing With: Bernard of Arca


The library's doors swooshed open, the Acolytes' footsteps echoing off the high ceilings as they walked in.

"You just wait, when I become a Sith I'll show that traitor Irveric Tavlar what we can do!" The voice was too high-pitched to belong to one of the warriors or the security forces.

"And that coward Ryv Karis too!" Another of the group giggled.

"Oh shut up, will you?" Aradia snapped. "Have you even faced a jedi? Have you seen what they can do?"

Wilic rolled his eyes, nudging the other. "Aradia thinks just because she was at Bastion she's the new shit."

The giggling girl scoffed. "Clearly not, since she lost the place."

A hiss slipped between her teeth, the elder ginger cutting in front of the younger two. "In case it has escaped you nerf-brains, I was not the only Acolyte at that fight. Look around, do you see any of them here?"

She cocked her chin, her brow raised in challenge. The implication registered between the two, their taunts withheld as they looked her over. She could feel their doubts. She had them too. How could a girl of her size and standing have been one of the few to survive the purge? She let their imaginations run wild, crossing her arms as she took charge. "We're not here to fight. We have our orders, secure the library and rejoin the others. The ship leaves in twenty. We need to get these artifacts out of here, or you'll be facing more than the wrath of a Jedi."

She turned on her heel, her hair snapping through the air as she started for the upper level.

"And for your information," she called over her shoulder. "I already am a Sith. Unlike you, I have a Master." The corner of her lips quirked up. She turned away, ascending to the second floor with quick, light steps.

"...Who's her Master again?"

"Hell if I know. You get the south side, I'l-"

Their voices faded out as the three split ways. Aradia's heart pumped rapidly in her chest, the thrill of telling them off diminishing as she was left to consider the implications of what was happening. The NIO were here again. To slaughter them all, no doubt. Anger rippled through her, their very existence enough to leave the once timid girl fuming as she walked briskly towards the back door.

She had not let go of what happened on Bastion. How could she? Her whole Academy had been purged. Countless faces, friends and foes alike, had been stripped from her life in the blink of an eye.

And for what? Why?

She would get that answer today. She would not be going on the evac ship with the others, not that there were many of those to even be had. Most of their numbers were out there-- fighting. But better the bottom of the barrel waste their energy escorting out the valuables while the useful placed themselves on the frontline. She would take her place among their ranks shortly. Anticipation drummed through her, her hands shak-

She stopped short, her thoughts freezing as she found herself faced with a crouching boy, hidden between two shelves.

"..."

Her ridged features snapped away from him, a nudge of intuition bringing her attention to the metal charged lodged an aisle away.

"Chit," she breathed. The darkside surged, her fingers clenching as strings of the force tried to yank the shelving down on top of him.

Objective: Sabotage the Academy
Foe: Darth Daiara
Jedi Strike Team Vos
\\ > Status Unknown
Silent Running (On Dangerous Ground)

Bernard stood pressed against the side of the bookcase with both blasters raised. His body was flat against the shelves, half-obscured by shadows in the dimness of the library's red and blue lights.

The library was supposed to be empty. Team Rhysode had deployed in advance of the others specifically to cause a sufficient distraction. Yet, there were Sith in the library now. The venerable Master Asmundr Varobalder 's influence had waned enough that Bernard couldn't sense the other Jedi team, and there wasn't enough time to reach out and confirm their fate. It appeared he was flying solo now, for the most part.

His fingers tightened their grip around the blasters' leather. He went into this mission expecting no backup. The risks were no different than when he was still a kid hiding from the Sith in the Core all those years ago, except this time, he was serving a cause greater than sheer survival.

The voices underneath him trailed off and grew quiet. The group of acolytes walked away. He noticed the detonator's red light still blinking at the edge of his vision. With any luck, the kids would be out of here before the detonators blew. He'd chosen the incendiary charges for structural damage, not anti-personnel use.

Bernard took a deep breath. This mission was for the good of the galaxy.

Right?

Footsteps to his side took him by surprise. The Sith had split up while he was too distracted to notice. He glanced to his right. Blue eyes stared back at him.

"Chit."

The bookcase toppled next to Bernard. Priceless tomes and holobooks slid free and clattered onto the floor. Bernard jumped back a pace, barely in time to avoid a particularly dense tome that hit the ground where he'd knelt. The bookcase crashed into another one that stood in the same row with enough momentum to send it toppling over as well. More books flew loose as both bookcases toppled, then another one, and another until the entire row was crashing. A cacophony of books and metal erupted and filled the library with chaos.

Bernard leapt towards the bookcase falling between him and the Sith. Before his feet touched the shelves, he brought his blasters together and flipped their mode levers against each other in a practised motion. With a quiet click, they locked into stun setting.

The edge of a lower shelf in the bookcase became the tightrope he needed to cross to reach the Sith. He teetered on it for a moment as the shelf finally came to a stop with a crash, but his Jedi senses kept him from slipping as it made impact.

The Sith had set the pace of their exchange by landing the first blow, forcing him on the defensive. If he didn't prevent her from following up, his chance to retaliate might pass him by for a while and time was a precious commodity now.

Without aiming his shots more precisely, he fired a salvo and started off bounding across the bookcase.

Blue rings of energy left each blaster in quick succession and shot ahead of him, towards the Sith. They were wide and hard to dodge at close distance, even for a trained Jedi, but a Lightsabre would make short work of them. Still, even the most skilled practitioner of Shien had difficulty retaliating when faced with an overwhelming volume of blasts.

Bernard intended to take advantage of that very fact. In particular, because the Sith had reached for the Force when she'd found him. This reaction, in a dangerous situation, implied a preference for it. For younger Jedi, and he hoped Sith too, this preference usually indicated a weakness with Lightsabre techniques.

If Bernard was lucky, and his hypothesis proved correct, he could eliminate the first Sith before the others arrived to help. The continuing collapse of bookcases was impossible to miss, and it was only a matter of time before he found himself facing three opponents.

Location: Korriban Sith Academy - Library
Writing With: Bernard of Arca

He was wrong.

Aradia squeaked, twirling to the side and raising a wave of discarded artifacts before her. The makeshift shield absorbed the shots, pages going up in flames as she found the chance to pull her-- A gasp cut through her, a burning impact sending left leg numb. She collapsed to a knee, the stunt bolt disabling the limb.

She pulled her borrowed saber, it's red length illuminating the dim space. The books dropped. She caught the last few bolts with the blade from her fixed position on the ground. Even compromised, the acolyte proved proficient with a blade. Kaalia Pavanos would accept nothing less.

There was no space for thoughts in the furious attack, both jedi and sith caught up in the sudden flurry. Footsteps flew wildly towards them, two leather claud teens surging forward to--

Aradia dropped her guard, waisting a precious moment to force push them back.

"Bomb. Go!"

The two scrambled for their footing, neither needing more than a hot moment to comprehend her words ... before leaving her where she laid. Aradia thought nothing of it, her attention turning back to the jedi who would level the place where he stood. A desperate sheen hit her eyes, her retaliation coming in the form of a telekinetic grip wrapping around his body. She tried to pin him where he stood, preventing an escape.

"Undo it," she demanded through her teeth, the concept of time weighing down on her.

Exactly how long did they have? Seconds?

​

Objective: Sabotage the Academy
Foe: Darth Daiara
Jedi Strike Team Vos
\\ > Status Unknown
Go!

​

There wasn't much of the shelf left when the Sith fell to one knee. One out of two dozen were far from great odds, but now that he managed to pierce the Sith's defences doing so again wouldn't be as hard.

Bernard kept pressing his advantage. Another volley of stun bolts lit up the chamber as he pulled the triggers in random patterns in an attempt to keep the Sith from settling into her combat rhythm.

The Sith answered the volley with her lightsabre. It ignited behind the shield of tomes before it fell apart. She slashed at the rings as they sped towards her, the blade's crimson hue shifting to purple whenever it cut apart blue bolts.

Bernard cursed under his breath. His deductive abilities did not measure up against an opponent who was his equal. He couldn't remember the last time he had faced another Force User over the recent few years. Worse yet, he barely had a few steps along the shelf left to decide on how to press his advantage.

Hurried footsteps rang out towards them. The Acolytes had finally caught up. Their arrival made Bernard's odds for a clean getaway plummet.

"Force-forsaken-," another curse escaped him and, for the briefest moment, he chided himself for having developed the habit of smearing the Force's sanctity so readily over his tenure with the Marshals.

The Sith seemed equally surprised about the acolytes' arrival. She had turned her attention away Bernard to warn the two newcomers, even going so far as to shove them with the Force, effectively nullifying her numbers advantage. It took Bernard by surprise. He had expected the three to jump at the chance of killing a live Jedi, especially here on Korriban. He was too short on time to dwell on the sudden contradiction, more importantly, too short on shelf-length. He would have to improvise. He hated improvising.

The prospect of advancing towards a sabre-wielding opponent with nothing but blasters made him nervous, but it was also his best opportunity to bring their fight to an expedient end. With his last few steps on the shelf's edge, he crouched low in preparation of another leap. Once he felt his boot bend on the shelf's end, he pushed off it as hard as he could.

Only to fly into what felt like a wall. Bernard's entire body was seized just after he had made it off the bookcase in a telekinetic grip. The sudden lack of control over his own body caused him to fly helplessly in a parabolic arc and right onto the floor. He tumbled over, and one of his blasters fell free from his hand. It slid alongside him on the durasteel floor until he crashed against metal guardrails, saving him from a steep drop down into a set of tables, but not his blaster.

"Undo it," the Sith demanded.

He scoffed.

The impact still had him shaken, and his opponent's power still bore down on him.

With a grunt, he concentrated on his own abilities enough to reestablish the protective Force barrier around his body, at least in part. Enough to force his blaster up and train it at the Sith. The barrel trembled in his hand as he glared at the Sith on the other side of it.

"Why should I?" He shot back. The words didn't come easy against the telekinetic grip.

Her situration was precarious-- wounded and trapped before a bomb that would go off at any moment, Aradia was aware she was staring down her death.

The presence of the darkside bore down on her, it's whispers gaining fervor as it begged for her to dig in. Use me. We can save them all. Korriban, of all places, brought clarity to its voice inside her. It would be so easy to surrender herself to it. She had done it before.

But she didn't want to be that monster again.

Below them, doors slammed, telling Aradia that her sacrifice might very well have given her peers a change to live. Maybe... just maybe-- they'd have enough time to warn the others too. That was a step further than she had done for the last Academy. And she didn't need the power to do it.

Kill him.

Her extended hand shook, the grip on his core tightening as the confliction twisted across her features.

'Undo it.'

"Why should I?" He rebuttled

"Oh hell, I don't know, because you'll murder everyone?" She scoffed angrily, the grip on him tightening. For a moment it constricted, threatening to crush ribs and squeeze the life from his body. It felt good, not unlike-

The dead solider's faces flashed through her.

She flinched, the hold on him releasing. The darkside burned through her, pulsing and aching for its release. She found herself bent over, clawing at the ground for control. "Please," She uttered, desperation hitting her tone. "This isn't right."

Kill him.
I need him.
You have me.
Do I?

A Sith controls the dark side, a slave is controlled by it. - Kaalia Pavanos ​

Every tick of the clock backed her further into a corner, but she wasn't ready to give into it yet. She forced herself to disconnect from the energy pulsing through her fingers, the girl claiming autonomy over herself once again. This would be done on her own terms.

Flames erupted over the exit, the bitter heat blocking his path out. She looked up, hair sticking to sweat as she panted on the floor. "You will undo it. Or you will die here too."

"A bunch of kids lost to war," she retorted bitterly. "If that's who you want to go down as."

 

[Darth Strosius]

TSE ALLIES: Dimitri Voltura / Ulrich
GA ENEMIES: Kenth Ordo / Aramis Sunstrider / Karn Syndulla / Takui
LOCATION: Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban
OBJECTIVE III: Kill the defilers and guard the Valley
EQUIPMENT: Lightsaber
Currently Engaging: Hal Vaiken
-----------------------------------------

The masked acolyte cursed in the back of his mind as he did his best to hold out against the Jedi's attempts to shove him away, gritting his teeth as he held his ground and continued to try his series of attacks. None of them had connected thus far, a fact that only served to frustrate Alisteri even more. Korriban, a sacred world, was in danger and here he was struggling to fight a single Jedi.

It was pathetic.

What was even more pathetic was when he was actually shoved back, quickly moving one of his legs back to try and keep himself from falling over in surprise. Then he glanced up to follow his opponent's leap, his eye widening as he brought his lightsaber up to try and block the incoming blade. The whole time, only one thought was in his mind: What the kriff was Zeltros?

The attack was blocked...mostly.

A pained yell escaped the young Sith as he felt the very tip of the blue lightsaber touch his shoulder, going straight through the material of his clothing to hit his skin. In shock and pain, as well as from the force of trying to stop the attack, he stumbled back. He hissed from the pain as his free hand came up to clutch the seared wound on his shoulder, his other hang holding his weapon defensively as he tried to recompose himself.

 

[Kyra Perl]

Korriban Sith Academy - Approaching
Writing With | Nida Perl | Thirdas Heavenshield (Closed)
​

Spoiler: The Story

Korriban Sith Academy - Roof
Writing With | Kyra Perl | Thirdas Heavenshield (Closed)

Atop one of the great spires of the Sith Academy sat a small woman, garbed nearly in the traditional red and black robes of her religion. Her slight form was folded into a crossed-legged position, hands resting atop her knees, back straight, head tilted down, eyes closed. Had it not been for the sinister color scheme and miasma of dark energy around her, Nida could have easily been mistaken for a Jedi in meditation.

In the time that had elapsed between Yavin and now, the Child of the Dark Lord had steadily grown in power and ability. She had placed one foot down on the path of what was sure to be a long and harrowing road to her true self. Still, the sacrifices she’d made to begin the journey felt like a lifetime of effort.

Foresight was one thing, but Nida could not predict the future.

Deep in meditation, Nida no longer feared the dark, but she feared the war that was rapidly encroaching the ancient Sith world. Not in the ‘quaking-in-your-boots’ way, but fear as a tool of caution. There was power in prudence and survival. Blood would be shed; a victor would be declared. This much she could foresee, and there was comfort in the finality of it all.

The tainted Force flowed freely through her, which she projected in smooth, continuous pulses to her brethren.

The Jedi were coming, but so was something else.

Korriban Sith Academy - Approaching
Writing With | Nida Perl | Thirdas Heavenshield (Closed)
​

"She's here."

Kyra's voice broke the determined pace the two had set down into the valley. The tension between them was palpable. It had been just a hunch-- a simple vision three days prior. Blood would be spilt in the Valley of the Sith, and Nida... precious, lost Nida just might be there with them.

Kyra hadn't dared to hope her vision might be true. She hadn't allowed herself to think- to breath- to stop moving long enough to linger on the possibilities. Now that they were here she felt nothing at all. She pushed on harder, forcing their pace.

"No wonder why the sith like this place." It pulsed with dark energy, brushing against her mind like a siren's song. She rubbed down her arm hairs and focused on surveying the area. Beyond them loomed the Sith Academy, set between the steep hill of the unforgiving desert. She could feel the turmoil unravel within its walls. The core's Jedi Order was already leaving its mark.

For a moment she yearned to join them. She ached to wield her saber-- to feel her peers at her back as the Force thrummed though them in a unified pulse. She wanted to help.

But something more sacred than duty demanded her presence today.

Nida's signature echoed faintly to her, unmistakable even in its corrupted form. Kyra swallowed hard and gingerly worked to thicken her mind to it. Nida would find it harder to influence her this time. The empath was learning.

She reached out, grabbing Thirdas' wrist and stopping him short. "Remember what I told you." Her blue eyes bore into his, firm and intense. If I seem off, shoot me.

She was no longer afraid of dying. It was the concept of falling that haunted her at night. It was only when Thirdas gave sign of his acknowledgement that she unleashed his wrist, reaching up to flick his forehead.

"Stay calm. Keep your mind guarded," She instructed. He might have been a seasoned solider, but this was what she was trained for. She gave him a forced smile, then turned on a dime, the jedi leading the ranger into the belly of the beast.

'Hi, Sis.'

'I know you what you want from me.'

'I'm here now, aren't I?'

Korriban Sith Academy - Approaching
Writing With: Nida Perl | Kyra Perl (Closed)
​

Their arrival had gone unnoticed for the time being. It would appear the brave men and women of the Alliance had already begun their assault, drawing all the attention towards their strike force. They'd cleverly disguised their infiltration using the sandstorm to their advantage, however it would be just as debilitating to their team as it no doubt was to the Sith defenders.

For the two figures marching through the Valley of the Dark Lords, a sandstorm was a boon only. Their mission was singlar in purpose, yet perhaps no less complicated than that of the New Jedi Order.

His mask and goggles came in handy, allowing him to maintain vision even through the harshest and thickest blankets of sand thrown their way. And yet, Kyra was the one to set the pace, relentless and merciless towards herself. A far cry from the scared little girl he used to know.

"Do you think they have some sort of complex? Why else build everything so damn big," he added to her comment while observing the ginormous statues dotting the valley. At least on Midvinter it made sense to build big - everything else there was big!

About to raise his rifle to scan the area ahead, he was stopped by the firm hand of his companion.

"Remember what I told you."

He met her determined gaze, his black visor leaving her with little in terms of emotional response. A moment later, a nod from the masked soldier. A promise, that if they were to fail a second time, there would be no third time for either of them. One fallen Perl was already one too many. As for him?

Heavenshields don't fall unless it's in battle, and let's leave it at that.

His honed senses picked up several footsteps closing in from behind. Swiftly he grabbed Kyra and stepped aside, pressing up against a stone wall under cover of the sandstorm. Though the platoon of Sith reinforcements passed by a mere 10 feet away, the two shapes had all but disappeared into the scenery.

Thirdas held onto Kyra until the last ranks of troops had vanished, holding onto her for perhaps a bit longer than necessary.

"Just... don't be too eager to sacrifice yourself, Pinky."

The danger had passed, and the pair continued their trek, slipping past the occasional sentry as Nida's presence became obvious to the both of them. They honed in on her as if she were a beacon, whether she intended to or not.

Eventually the red dunes turned into roads, which later turned into ascending steps. The higher the pair climbed, more of the sandstorm subsided until they were able to make out the vast entrance to the Sith Academy up ahead.

Korriban Sith Academy - Roof
Writing With | Kyra Perl | Thirdas Heavenshield (Closed)

The Force ebbed and flowed like a storm at sea, Jedi and Sith drawing from its wellspring alike. Nida didn’t resist the motions as they rolled through her.

Until something prickled at her, like a thorn wedged in her thumb.

They were here. Kyra and Thirdas were here, and they were close. Through the ravage of war and great plumes of dust, their presence burned a steady path through the road and up the step of the academy. If she could feel them, they could feel her. Nida’s projection had lead them straight to her, like a moth to a lamp.

Head tilting upwards, her eyelids cracked open. Through slivers of vivid gold, she observed the heat-blistered skyline of Korriban and reached out to them.

I am here.

There was no sense in playing coy.

Korriban Sith Academy - Approaching
Writing With | Nida Perl | Thirdas Heavenshield (Closed)
​

Spoiler: The Story

​

​

Goosebumps speckled Kyra's arms, the two coming to stand at the top of the temple steps. Beyond the courtyard she heard fighting, sabers and blasters echoing off the high sandstone walls.

Don't be too eager to sacrifice yourself, Pinky.

She couldn't make that promise, desperation stirring inside of her.

I am here.

"I know you are, doofus. Now come on down." She grumbled under her breath, grabbing Thirdas' arm and guiding him through an alternative path forward. Like clockwork, a step of footsteps echoed from where they once were. Kyra kept her eyes cleared from the storm, her head tucking into his chest as she waited for the new figure to slip by them unnoticed.

The two worked together fluently, the give and take of control belaying the trust the two had built up over their trials. She took a deep breath in, centering on him before expanding her senses outwards. Nida was upwards, but they... they needed a path to her. "Aha," she breathed, eyes snapping open.

This way, her body language demanded, the girl nearly pushing out of his vision line as she dived back into the storm. Forward and up, she lead them through a empty path along the building, only the occasional body on the ground signifying the war that that took place inside the Temple's walls. But they weren't going in, they were going ontop.

They crested the roof, the wind howling and whiping sand across her cheek.

A heavy darkness laid over her, stealing her breath away. She braced Thirdas as he climbed up to her side, her cybernetic gripping too tight. Beyond them sat a criss-crossed form, its purple hair dancing in the wind like a wicked halo.

"Nida," Kyra croaked, her stomach flipping as the corrupted battle meditation thrummed against her skin. And like a moth to flame, the two walked into the trap. Kyra stepped forward, demanding over the screeching storm.


"Nida Perl, stop that."

​

Korriban Sith Academy - Roof
Writing With | Kyra Perl | Thirdas Heavenshield (Closed)

No fanfare, no lush displays of emotion.

The three of them were cold, unimpressed, and stoic. And yet, the gravity of the situation, the blood and tears that had brought them to this moment, hung overhead like fog.

Nida’s focus appeared to sweep over Kyra first, taking in her baby sister’s appearance. Well, not much of a baby anymore—not with the way her features had sharpened to resemble her mother’s. She was nearly as tall too, holding herself less like a bratty child and more like a woman who’d been thrashed into adulthood by turmoil.

Her head turned slightly to the side, eyes shifting to follow Thirdas as he slowly circled around her, the muzzle of his rifle aimed at her. Her feelings concerning Thirdas were complex, and the time they’d spent apart seemed to change him on the outside. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was like now, how he’d dealt with life in her brutal absence.

With a demure sigh, her shoulder sagged. “Very well.”

Nida’s visage flickered, and the illusion fell away.

From the shadows of one of the rooftop’s ornate decorations, a blur of pink and purple surged towards Thirdas. A snap-hiss would be the only warning before her crimson blade whirled through the air with precision and ferocity, aiming to slice through the barrel of Thirdas’ rifle.

Nida knew well that she was outnumbered, but if they were to take her, she would not go quietly into the night.

Sith Academy Roof
Writing With: Nida Perl | Kyra Perl (Closed)
​

"Very well."

The image of Nida sitting at the rooftop's center flickered and faded into nothing, causing Thirdas' battle-hardened instincts to kick in. Immediately he realised her trick, and swung his rifle around to scan the area for signs of an ambush. As soon as he did, a purple blur coupled with a streak of crimson appeared from behind one of the rooftop decorations.

Before he could act the red saber sliced his rifle in half, causing the long barrel to drop to the ground. He'd only just been able to remove his left hand from the front grip, or he would have been well and truly disarmed right there and then.

Tossing what remained of his rifle (thankfully not his mother's!), Thirdas deflected Nida's lightsaber as it swung around and made its way back to its master using his cybernetic arm. Spark flew as it glanced off the phrik casing, leaving a glowing trail where blade met metal.

As Nida closed in on him with supernatural speed, he went for his sidearm in one hand and his trusty handaxe from home in the other, taking aim with the former and preparing to block with the latter in case she decided to swing for him.

He fired off a few rounds in her direction, aiming for her legs in the hopes that it if hit she would simply stumble and be left at their mercy.

"Nida!" Kyra screeched, her tone shrill and chastising as the elder Perl flew out of the shadows, saber swinging.

Thirdas was pulled off her side, locked in a tumble with Nida that made Kyra's engagement into the fight that much tricker. With Thirdas's riffle sliced down at her feet, the advantage of distance was cut out from the equation. Now, anything she did had a chance of hitting the Ranger too. It was a balm careless Nida was free of.

Because she would kill them both.

Kyra scowled, a flick of her hand signaling her ship to reroute to her. Either it made it to her in one piece or it didn't. There was no saying she'd even live long enough to step in it. With that final action set into motion, Kyra cleared her mind and closed her eyes. Acceptance washed over her, the reality of her mission fading into the background.

The crystal at her neck pulsed with light, its reach growing with each breath. The scuffle raged on before her, earning no response from the padawan meditating where she stood.

"I am light," she chanted, her fathers words fueling her. "You cannot have me."

Her mind opened up, the weight of Korriban's darkness washing off her senses. The crystal's light encapsulated her, it's very essence burning back the evil and purifying the air she breathed. She could feel her father in the distance, his energy merging with hers, their Starchaser light burning as one. Her strength tripled, fueled by the grandmaster that linked them all.

She could feel every Jedi now, their lifeforce thrumming through her-- pinpricks of light on the fabric that made up the world.

She found strength from their presence. If they accepted it, they would find strength from her too. The energy streamed off her in a pillar, pure arms of light dancing up into the corrupted sky.

"I am light and you cannot have her."

Her eyes opened, tears streaming down her cheeks as she directed the energy to blast over the grappling pair. For a true, fallen sith, it might be lethal. But Kyra believed Nida was still in there somewhere. She had to-- it was the only way she could bring herself to deliver the blow.

There would be no Sith Perls in this universe.