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

[Zaavik Perl]

S H A D O W
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
VOS // Allyson Locke
ADVERSARIES // Gnox the Insatiable | Vaylin | Maple Harte
KORRIBAN // SITH ACADEMY

[ NOW YOUR LIFE DRAINS ON THE FLOOR ]
​

The collective consciousness of the New Jedi Order brought a strange peace to Zaavik's nerves as he charged forward. Emboldened by this sudden meld, his confidence began to surge. Every motion felt deft beyond his own measure. The strength and experience of his peers coursed through his every intent. Trust me. Allyson's imploration echoed through his mind as her being and his own crept into one. This sensation bordered on a delusion of invincibility, but his wits retained their restraint.

The beast pivoted with an incomprehensible speed, rebuking the Padawan's approach with a swing of his macabre weapon. Allyson's valor stimulated his reflexes. Zaavik forced himself into a tumble mid-slide, narrowly avoiding the full impact of the flail itself. The first spatter of the poisons rapped against his battle garb as the rest slithered with an undulating hatred through the air toward him.

He spun into a kip-up, extending the green saber blade on the opposite end of his hilt. The skill of Ryv and the ingenuity of Bernard of Arca converged into one with his reflexes as the meld pulled from every possible source. His saber became a spinning turbine of plasma between both hands as he shielded against the encroaching poisons. Against white-hot cylinders, the poisons burned and scattered away.

Until they didn't.

Be it technique or luck, a swath of the horrible concoction made it through. Splattering onto his right arm, soaking through the clothes above, with straggling droplets bursting against the cheek. His muscles tensed, spasmed, and then burned. Pain spiked through his arm and face, reverberating through his mind and meld. His muscles loosened, one side of the face drooping and his arm flopping like gelatin. His knees buckled and gave from the sheer weight of the sensation.

Zaavik screamed, falling side-of-the-face-first onto the ground. His feet struggled to kick forward, scooting him across the ground as he wailed with an incomprehensible level of suffering. The Padawan writhed over onto his back, eyes fogged and watering as a half-limp grimace heralded his screams. His vision blurred. His ears rang. There was only pain.

 

[Nida Perl]

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

The bolts were avoided with a few small, quick turns on her feet. Normally clumsy, the Zeltron had become more fluid in her movements. Her blade scorched a path along the side of Thirdas’s prosthetic, but Nida was otherwise satisfied with disarming him of his rifle for now.

As deadly as he was ranged, confronting Thirdas in close quarters was also a dangerous move. And with Kyra in the mix—she had to finish this quickly. Her hope was that their feelings for her would break them sooner than her feelings for them would break her.

Mindful of the Valkyri handaxe, she elected to go for that first, rather than trying to unbalance him at the legs. The crimson blade swung in a tight arc, her movements minimal yet vicious as she pushed against his weapon, aiming to sink the plasma into its metal head.

Something tugged at her, like a tide that was suddenly rushing out and trying to take her with it. In between the gaps of Thirdas’ large frame she pieced together the image of Kyra, and the purest, whitest spires of light coalescing around her.

The light grew and grew until it had obscured Kyra’s form, then Thirdas’, then everything around Nida.

The tide rushed back in, and with it came the most excruciating sensation. Nida dropped her saber and recoiled, screaming in agony.

Every muscle fiber in her body stung as if it had been broiled by the Tatooine suns, fed by the acid in her veins. The light was seeping into her skin, ripping apart the corrupting dark one cell at a time. Even her mind had become caustic while her body was burning away, as if Nida had become her own poison.
Kyra’s Force Light assault may have been brief, but for Nida it held the pain and gravity of a thousand lifetimes. It had drained her of life, leaving behind hollow cheekbones, sallow skin, and a brittle body. Even her hair and eyes were sapped of their natural vibrancy.

She collapsed forward against Thirdas, existing on the border between two worlds.

 

[Lark]

​

Location: Near Tomb of Darth Bane
Objective: Defend the Tomb from Jedi Intruders
Writing With: Mato Kejak
Nearby: Marrow Auteme Lucien Dooku

As the battle between the ornate Sith Lord and two of the Jedi began, Lark found himself doing something he always seemed to do right before a battle. Talking with the enemy, with a aura of familiarity and amiability that almost made it appear as though the two were old friends meeting over an early morning cup of coffee. He had no issue with this, a chance to speak with one you would soon duel often offered some sort of insight into how they operated. Lark's eyes were painted with the wicked, orange beauty of the Dark Side's corruption, but his expression was as soft as a teacher delicately reading a storybook to their class of children. His eyes did not burn through the Jedi, nor regard him with any ill-contempt despite the threat he presented to Korriban. Even as the Jedi raised in blade in preparation for an attack that would not be made quite yet, Lark regarded the Rattataki man with a gentle curiosity.

The man was wrong- there would be no alteration that would suddenly place Lark as a hero in the eyes of galactic history. His crimes were unknown by most and unspeakable by those who were aware of his sins. He had taken no perverse joy in what he had done, and yet remorse would never weigh upon him. There would never be a statue commemorating him. Nor any text archiving his life. If he were to eventually have a tomb here on Korriban along the likes of Darth Bane, he'd ensure the headstone remained devoid of writing.

"If I am cut down here today, perhaps you might return me to my mother and father. You'll find them on Myrkr, six feet underneath those boggy soils." Lark raised his voice so that he may be heard over the raging storm and the clash between both their companions, a small courtesy. He too raised his blade, taking a defensive position in preparation for the barrage of strikes that would surely arrive soon. "And I will commend you from beyond the grave if you manage to locate my dear brother and sister, for they've eluded my search for so long. Feel free to deliver me to either of them if you desire, though I'm not sure where they might be or whether or not they still draw breath. If your search fails, as I'm sure it will seeing as though my brother would never allow himself to be found unless he willed it, do something interesting with my body. Perhaps you could swap it out with Darth Bane's? That would surely cause a ruckus amongst our order. I'll be too dead to care."

Deep down, Lark knew his siblings still lived. They were the sole reason for everything that he did. All of the madness he welcomed into his mind, all the chaos he wrought upon every world his feet touched. All of it was to find them. To claim just a little bit of hope that one day, they might all three be reunited. Lark couldn't achieve that if he was dropped by their feet in a bag.

 

[Maple Harte]

Maple cried out as she was hit by the shrapnel Zaavik Perl sent her way, clipping her partly in the shoulder. The suit, rated to resist shrapnel, took most of the hits, but she still got a few good cuts. But the Padawan didn't want to follow the instructions of his master fighting the gorgeous looking Vaylin , instead wanting a piece of Gnox the Insatiable . Was he serious?! Even Gnox's name sounded like it wanted to go two or three rounds with people. Skip. She was secretly an agent of the Super Insects, and had been all along.

As Maple was flung backward, she felt another, more serious skip...

Skip.

A nineteen year old Uri Udinia meditated in the clearing on Dantooine, clad in loose gray training robes, chocolate colored hair done up as Princess Leia type buns, wearing a blindfold. Her arms were crossed across her chest, holding Ursula's pistols like she was Agent Forty-007.

Her Master, Ursula, sat cross legged on a cliff above her meditating Padawan, clad in her typical stark white catsuit.

"Today, Padawan, you are honored with a true test of your capabilities. I've let you kill small crowds of common enemies with a few elites amongst them. Today, you cut your teeth on a full squad of Sith and Mandalorian Assassins. The finest I could capture...the only way the explosive I surgically implanted in the skulls of each is removed is if they kill you. Kill them instead. Show them how a true Marksman fights."

"I will not fail you, Master."

"Don't worry about failing me. Worry about failing 'yourself'." Ursula replied.

Uri sensed the bullet heading for the back of her skull. She evaded, rolling out of the way.

(Uri Udinia's Theme Song Plays)

(Theme: "Live and Let Die" by Paul McCartney)

Uri flipped up and returned fire at the Mandalorian in all white armor firing at her from the sky, the weak but highly fast and accurate white laser bolts pinging his armor but barely scratching it as he fired a rocket.

The Force whispered its direction and velocity and she sent swarms of laser beams at it as it raced, sprinting as it tracked her. Because she had the blindfold on, she wasn't able to see Ursula subtly bobbing her head to the OOC music due to the insanity of the monster within her.

The blast from when one bolt hit the rocket sent her tumbling to the ground, and again rolling out of the way using her Ataru training, encorporating the Force into already unnatural reflexes to avoid the Lightsaber staffs of two fully armed and armored Sith Assassins who uncloaked their presence in the Force, firing Lightning at her. That's when the second Mandalorian flew down and began slashing at her with arm blades, and her flipping and twirling with the Force barely carried her beyond the worst of it, though she cried out as part of the Assassins lightning caught her and her muscles locked up as she hit the ground, barely able to think while in such pain.

She forced herself past it. She couldn't disappoint Ursula by dying!

Her muscles were still locked, and she was starting to gasp for air as one of the Sith choked her with the Dark Side.

But Uri Udinia was more than the will to kill.

She was a conduit of the Force. She was the lance of light that erupted into the darkness of a Sith's evil, hitting a heart or a brain it had twisted to its will.

But more importantly, Uri was Ursula's Padawan. Her student. Her protege, just like Laertia.

She concentrated, past the pain, calling the plants of Dantooine to her aid, and the roots of the ground answered, springing up through the boots of the Sith closest to her, roots bursting from the soil to catch their legs and arms, allowing her to just barely shoot the both of them in the face before driving off the bigger, more aggressive Mandalorian in blue armor slashing at her viciously, only to be blasted in the visor by one of her pistols, making him fall back trying to fire at her with his own heavy pistols using his jetpack, but the bolts fired by a wounded Uri deflected his, some being deflected back into his visor, killing him instantly.

Uri cried out as a grappler hook went through her shoulder. The remaining Mandalorian flew through air via his jetpack and dragged her through the dirt, causing her to lose one of her pistols as she was pulled through soil, getting cuts and bruises and scrapes, fighting to breath and stay concious.

The raw, nigh unfettered urge to survive gripped her, and she trusted the force as she was violently dragged, aiming and firing blindly when it told her.

The Laser bolts hit the exhaust on one of his jets and it exploded, him hurtling to the ground, and her arm disabled. He was up instantly, tearing the ruined pack off just as she rose herself, splitting blood out, barely able to think and focus.

Out came his repeating pistols. He fired as she charged, and with weakened acrobatics and a barely working Force Sense she flipped and barely tumbled over under and past his deadly stream of automatic fire, firing only at bolts that would have killed her for certain to deflect them. Ursula had had her study the ways of Gray Paladins to achieve that skill.

The shots still grazed her right thigh and she nearly blacked out from the pain as she tumbled to the ground in front of the still firing Mandalorian.

She used the Force to stop his next few bolts for a few seconds, firing into his visor as fast as she could with the last of her strength.

The inside of his helmet exploded in gore and blood and he fell backward, just as Uri herself passed out from her injuries.

"So there is room for improvement..." she noted Ursula saying crisply but it was clear she was quite pleased at the result as Uri blacked out...

Skip.

Uri shot to her feet, eyes narrowed, watching Allyson Locke fight and Zaavik take on Gnox.

Her strategy was unchanged. It was cowardly. Ruthless but effective.

As she watched Zaavik cry out, Maple fought through her pain, two and a half dozen meters after getting flung back, loaded her shotgun with buckshot and Flechettes, aimed it at the injured Zaavik and fired at his chest and head, not certain it would hit in all the chaos but doing her best to make sure it did, and thus ruin Allyson's chances of victory. Maple felt like a horrid wretch because the tactic had been used on her and 'Ursula' (Maple could recall the one time she saw 'Ursula' go absolutely ballistic on an attacker who tried this, and that was because it had almost worked and nearly killed Laertia. Her Master had beaten the Assassin to death in a violent rage after making sure Laertia had survived. Neither she nor her one time rival had ever discussed Ursula's loss of emotional control, both having loved their mentor as a parent too much to raise concerns.)

Maple knew this tactic would hurt Allyson, forcing her to choose between victory or life...

 

[Auteme]

Lucien Dooku Marrow | Mato Kejak Lark ​

The first blows between Lucien and the Sith Lord were beyond understanding -- for the most part because she knew next to nothing about actually fighting. She'd sat in on a few saber classes, but it was rare that she saw Force users in action. She knew then that she'd never have that same skill. Through the meld she could feel the instincts that drove Lucien's every movement, the minute cries of danger from the Force.

Auteme saw the danger. The sword flashing towards the Prince of Serenno, then the off-hand lightsaber that was pulled into the Sith's hand. Though the light was dimmed and her senses dulled by the storm their bond was strengthened by the meld. As the Sith said, Lucien wanted to draw his attention to protect her. With the golden sorcerer's attention taken, Auteme was free to act.

The Light bent and spun, forming threads strong as steel to wrap around the shoto saber in an attempt to stop the attack. As ever it burned the darkness.

She was no warrior. She was a Jedi, pushing back the darkness and protecting others -- she'd protect Lucien as well as he protected her.

 

[Top Bishop]

WOLFPACK
FELUCIA | KWAY TEOW OFFENSIVE
R U F F _ R Y D E R S
Shocktrooper Armour | Rifle | 2x Pistol

​

A deafening cry ran through the lines of soldiers as they moved through the Felucian foliage.

The 104th Wolves were on the move.

A month long engagement. A month long wait to hear that this was the final attack. To carve into the heart of Sith Space, and gouge them out of their own territory. The hunt on Felucia all culminated to this. The hunt would end tonight, with them taking the city, or likely face looming destruction, so deep behind enemy lines... So far from home.

Leaves whipped past his helmet and trailed across his visor as Bishop pushed through the flora and undergrowth.

Before he could even mention how quiet it was, the world around them came alive. Screams down the line and blaster fire to answer as soldiers were dragged and pulled out of their formations like ragdolls into the darkness. Abrupt flashes of light, blaster fire or some kind of Force power, Bishop didn't know.

His rifle was swung back over his shoulder, resting on his back as he withdrew both of the Feverwasp pistols from their holsters. Casting a glance over his shoulder at Seydou of Thyrsus , his gaze snapped back forwards at the dark shapes of the charging monsters, too big to be human. He fired, left right, left right as beams of light lanced out to crash into the ambushing giants. Miniature explosions bursting across their frames as he tapped into his comm system.

<"Form up on Bishop! Wedge formation!"> Amon's orders echoing in his head as he disappeared into the skies above. <"With me!"> He leapt over a log, charging forwards as from the darkness other Wolfpack Marines formed up on his flanks as they drove the tip of the wedge towards the city.

Wardaddy was expecting them. Command designated to Bishop, he wouldn't fail his Mandalorian Commander.

As they carved through the ranks of monster and sithspawn alike, they burst out from underneath the tree cover. Open space between the jungle and the city walls.

<"Get ready!">

Sith troopers lining the parapets opening fire as they charged.

Arcing through the air, Bishop could see the streaks of fire raining down onto the gates a few hundred feet away.

Thousands would charge through those gates as soon as they dropped from Captain Raith 's barrage. Hundreds more would fly over those walls in the meantime, mounted jetpacks triggering as they flew up, dozens of Wolfpack Marines landing around him on the walls as they engaged the hostiles on the walls.

ALLIES | GA | NIO | Maynard Treicolt | Loske Treicolt | Djorn Bline | Aerarii Tithe
ENEMIES | TSE | Eldaah Aderyn | Madelyn Lowe ​

 

[Veino Garn]

Asmenys iv irus kash tave jen'
Equipment: Armor | Handcannon | Stun Pearls (Several dozens) | Powdered Death Stick Gas Grenades (4)
Allies: Coren Starchaser Ryv Jedi, Zark San Tekka
Opponent: Sanguine Nocturnal
Location: Temple of Sacrifice Approach
================================================


Hide and seek, eh? Veino quirked a smile behind his helmet as he slid from behind the boulder to press himself against the rockface, perpendicular to the spinning red lightsaber blades. She couldn't sense him. Couldn't find him. Good. It was good to know the efficacy of those abilities hadn't been diminished. He needed them for this to be successful. But he could use this to his advantage. The entrance to the complex, or temple, or tomb, whatever it was, gaped a few meters from him. He hoped it was the pathway he needed. It could have been an old clay mine for all he knew. But, if a Sith was there guarding the entrance, then logically, it was something worth protecting.

That would be his only path forward. He could sense Zark clearly now, and he was clearly no ghost anymore. Veino needed to get in there and figure out what in the Force was happening. But he couldn't do it with this Sith raging loose behind him.

The threat needed to be neutralized. Quickly and efficiently. He considered. Curved lightsaber hilts, scarlet blades of some unusual style. Crystals he was unaware of and didn't have time to figure out. No point in spending time crossing blades. Based on the curve, he guessed some sort of Makashi Jar'kai, and the fact that her presence was diminished in the Force suggested some sort of other alchemical components tucked away. He had no intention of sticking around to find out.

There was a gap between the lightsaber blades and the rockface, however, and he slid along it, watching the Sith's movements and style. Very agile, very athletic. Quiet complex. Not a combatant he wanted to face directly. While he was no doubt good enough at Soresu to have an unbreakable defense, he simply didn't have the time.

But she couldn't see or sense him. But she was eager to fight and confident in her ability to defeat him. Time to play to that. He slid the last meter or so to the entrance and stepped inside, unclipping one of the four deathstick powder grenades from his belt, and holstering the handcannon for the moment.

A deep breath and he stepped to just inside the entranceway, shadowed by the rock surround him. He let the Force Cloak drop.

"Come and find me, young one." His voice came out flat, artificial, and coldly modulated through the rebreather in his helmet, but it projected it enough from directly behind where the Sith had been to carry.

After he spoke, he stepped back into the shadows, thumbing the release on the canister and chucking it forward so it bounce into the entranceway. As the hallucinogenic and temporarily Force-numbing released into the air, hanging there, Veino sent a slight push to send it drifting outwards. The cloud of dust whirled and rose around him. Sweat trickled down his neck as he watched it grow closer and adjusted his helmet more securely to tighten the seal of his rebreather around his mouth and nose.

He let the cloud surround him, envelop him, masking much of him from sight except for fleeting shifts and images as he strode back into the tunnel, head turned to look where he was going, until he was out of the powder, although it still coated his clothes. There was a decontamination cycle in his future.

Veino pressed himself against the tunnel wall and hurried along it, letting his visor adjust automatically to the darkness and the maze of corridors ahead of him, while the targeting system stayed trained on the Sith outside.

 

[Darth Vird]

KORRIBAN
Somewhere on Korriban's Surface

​

As Darth Vird was going to attack, he could sense some civilian ships in orbit and decides to deal with them. He turns off his Lightsaber, put's it away, and shoots lightning into space trying to disable only the civilian ships laughed as maniacally as he possibly could as he turned on the civilians in orbit. It takes all his concentration to do it though and he is unaware of this.

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Writing with: Master Zoryu

It coiled tighter, the mass of the shadowed serpent composed of such a blackness that no light could define its features. In a desperate swing Cara lashed at what could be thought to have been a throat, instead sinking her hand into a pocket of inky muck. In return the ember-eyed void hoisted her off the ground high enough for her feet to dangle, slamming the doctor into a fallen stone pedestal hard enough for a warning light on her armor to blink.

Gasping for air Cara barely registered the wracking sensation, survival planted firmly in the throne of her mind. She wrenched it, clawed it, even sheathed a vibroknife between its eyes. A scoff. A scoff and a bath in putrid mire were the only rewards she received for the effort. She felt her grasp on consciousness wane, her grip on the knife and the creature relaxing involuntarily.

As her struggling died the viper spoke in a garbled remix of voices which had spoken over the comms. "...wasss-wasted-- worth--not worth-- the struggle." It lifted its head slightly and spoke a few more words. It savored some and spat out others, trying a medley picked from random conversations being spoken throughout Korriban. At last satisfied it adjusted its focus, staring through the black dome of Cara's helmet and speaking into her very psyche, "Fraud."

The word struck hotter than any lightsaber.

Cara felt gravity's touch fade then punch as the serpent slung her off the pedestal and into a pillar. Lungs free she wheezed a murky gasp then struggled with her helmet. Blood and thick gel splattered onto the sandstone as she coughed them up. A streak of black painted her face as she tried to clear away the blood from her chin, having forgotten she was covered in whatever substance the snake was made of.

"F r a u d," it hissed while inching closer, "you are no Sith."

Cara sneered at...whatever it was. According to texts on the planet it could have been a spirit, perhaps the soul of a long dead Dark Lord. Maybe it was even a conglomeration of many Sith, bits and pieces coalescing into one manifestation. All, of course, pure speculation. Cara wasn't sure if a concept such as a soul even existed in reality, not in the way it was usually touted at least.

In a sudden twist the shadow coiled back into a striking pose while hissing loudly, "You reek of unbelief. Closed off to power. Weeeeeak. I would order you to prove yourself for the right to continue living, but I see you waste your body as a fake." Its shadow flesh had begun to churn in anticipation, "The faithless may still feed me." It lunged forward, maw wide with four fangs that dripped with the distilled essence of malice.

"No."

Metal fingers gripped the top and bottom of the viper's mouth. The cacophony of overclocked servos punctuated the air as Cara pushed back. She stared down the serpent, her own eyes quickly overtaken by the fierce burn unique to the engineer. Slowly, with great effort, Cara began to rise to her feet.

"Don't you ever, ever, call me weak. Merely for what, I am not like you?" Her inner rage grew like a bonfire, contrasting the cold and unwavering voice with what she normally spoke. The creature then began to wrap its tail around her leg as if to try and constrict her again.

Cara would not suffer such impudence.

She was not the bloody warlord nor was she the obsessive alchemist. She was Sith, made in her own image, wrought by her own strength and mind. Held to no standard she bore not a single chain to convention, for those links of bondage were broken so long ago. "I have nothing to prove to you, whatever you are, but I will show you how things are done... my way."

The doctor roared as she pulled with all the force she could demand. The inky serpent was ripped in two, erupting a geyser of black fluid as its halves were split then thrown aside. Slowly the pieces became dried and flaky, breaking into ash as the wind passed over. Eyes smoldering Cara heaved a breath as she sunk against the pillar once more. The cough still persisted, and Cara rolled her helmet in her hands a moment before pausing to slip it on. Behind her a bubble, a white barrier, shined through the desert. She peered at it as she rose to her feet.

Jedi.

Cara rubbed her face again, painting a streak of black over her brow. She returned to her speeder, equipping her helmet and taking a seat. The journey to the bright sphere wasn't daunting, but here were the strengthened tides of the dark side, that other half of the Force coin. She felt the darkness whipping at her legs, the dark desiring only the strong to tame it, rule it, and spread it. But keeping it at bay were an unknown number of Jedi, for certain one older and one younger. The older man, whitened with age, garnered respect from Cara solely by principle alone. She directed her words to him, speaking loud and with clear inflection, "This is not the place for you, Jedi. Leave, now, while Korriban may still let you. I will not pursue."

 

[Takui]

NEW JEDI ORDER

OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY | POST V

EQUIPMENT: Blaster Rifle | Armor

SOMEWHERE NEAR THE VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS

​

The darkness that permeated the Valley of the Dark Lords had crept between the cracks. Kenth told them to leave. Their entire plan to sabotage the Sith on their Ancestral Homeworld had gone the worst way possible, and a Jedi now bore sulfurous eyes that haunted Taku as he gazed back at them. Something sinister existed behind that look Padawan Ordo gave them.

"We can't!" Takui protested. "I'm not sure, but we can't just leave him like this!"

Knight Syndulla left no room for argument. As more Tuk'ata flooded the Valley around them, the only option became abundantly clear. The Twi'lek Jedi raced past him as Taku spared a glance back toward Kenth. The man looked resolute and determined, but something frigid surrounded him.

Leaving him felt wrong.

That was when he felt it. The pulsating beacon that rang out in the Force, signaling the Jedi. He could feel something that opposed this place so powerfully, trapped somewhere in the heart of it.

No wonder Karn was so adamant. He must have felt it too. As the hounds closed in on them, Taku turned and ran. "I felt it," he gasped for air as they raced toward what the unknown. "I don't know what it is, but I felt it."

If they could find something powerful enough, whether it was the source of that radiant light or not, they might be able to do something for Kenth. Until then...

Takui pushed the thought from his mind. His heart ached at the idea of leaving anyone behind, regardless of how well he knew them. The Force only knew what might happen...

Karn Syndulla | Kenth Ordo​

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

LOCATION: Sith-Imperial Relay Station, Kway Teow, Felucia
OBJECTIVE: II - Operation Deluge
ALLIES: Maynard Treicolt | Djorn Bline | Seydou of Thyrsus | Captain Raith | Top Bishop | Kir Dantos | Loske Treicolt | GA & NIO
ENEMIES: Madelyn Lowe | Eldaah Aderyn | Karn Zhakul | Lunafreya Solidor | Ruek Tast | TSE
KIT: Lesser Ring of the Protected Mind | Taxman’s Embrace | Visions of Gold | Sith-Imperial Military Uniform w/ concealed blast-plate
POST: III

Tithe strode through the corridors of the Sith-Imperial relay station toward the auxiliary control room. Despite having never stepped foot in this particular building, the layout was identical to dozens of others he had visited in his time as an Imperial governor and Sith-Imperial Banking Clan official. The utilitarian hallways, decorated only with minimalist wayfaring markings for guidance, were indistinguishable - he could have easily deep within an Armada battlecruiser, a weapons research laboratory, or a sector group administrative complex.

Indeed, beyond the familiarity, there was also a degree of something he would have never expected - comfort.

Yes, his later career as a Moff had been characterised by a string of military defeat at the hands of the New Imperial Order. But before that, and even at points during the campaign, he had achieved greatness. His rise through the SIBC had been described by his rivals as ‘meteoric’. While Sector Group II had crumbled under the NIO’s incursions, Tithe had been praised for coordinating a massive logistics campaign which had repositioned key military resources to other Sith world rather than let it fall into enemy hands. His economic vision had left the floundering Sith-Imperial credit from crashing at the height of the war.

He paused for a moment. Had it been a mistake to leave? While the Sith Empire was significantly reduced and assaulted from all sides, what else could he have achieved if he’d stayed?

His reflection was thankfully interrupted by a call from Lieutenant Colonel Djorn Bline with a request for a status report.

“Kept you waiting, huh?” Tithe said, repeating a term of phrase he’d heard bandied around the barracks, though he personally didn’t get the reference. The Senator stopped in front on the next blast door along the hallway and checked its identification number. “Their comms will be inoperable forthwith.”

Tithe waved his hand over the control panel and opened the blastdoor, and stepped out onto a gantry above the main holonet console from which the majority of communications were sent. His target was an auxiliary panel in the adjacent room which was rarely staffed and never protected. All he needed to do was cross the gantry, which was blanketed in shadows, and his mission would almost be complete. With the GA force bearing down on Kway Teow it was imperative that he knock out the S-IMP communications to sow chaos among the enemy.

He was halfway across the gantry when a familiar voice filled the room.

Madelyn

He looked down at the main console. Grand Vizier Lowe - she’d been a Grand Moff when they’d last worked together - was speaking to the loyal and GA forces alike, encouraging the former to hold on and warning the latter of their demise should they try to take the city. Tithe had witnessed her give dozens of similar speeches in her previous role as governor of Oversector I. She had a poise and confidence which inspired those around her even when things looked grim.

Tithe’s mind instantly flashed back to his previous engagements with Lowe. They’d led the defence of Mygeeto and coordinated the evacuation of Prefsbelt IV. When the Sith had first begun to splinter the two of them had held counsel alongside the other Moffs and Grand Moffs to ensure the future of the Empire. It was a lifetime ago, and yet the memories remained vivid. For all the fools he’d suffered in service to the Emperor, Madelyn had been a rare exception - a respected colleague and worthy peer.

Momentary forgetting about the GA incursion into the city or his mission to bring down the enemy comms, Tithe simply stood and looked down at the Grand Vizier, his thoughts returning to his time with the Empire.

 

[Lucien Dooku]

DUALITY_OF_ONE
[OUTSIDE]
KAL'ORITSOR | DRIP

---

---

A mischievous grin remain plastered on his face, even as the two exchanged blows, and the tell-tale hue of a lightsaber's blade cut its way through the peripheral of his vision. He swiveled on his heel to dodge the blade that now followed through towards his torso. The repulsors in his boots did most of the work, aided by footwork that was impressive enough given how quickly the Sith had brought the weapon to meet its target.

"Good."

He replied, his eyes taking on a growing intensity as they settled upon the masked Sith. He could feel the energy emanating off his blade; it flowed through him freely on a planet as corrupted as Korriban, beckoning him to give into his desire to fight and kill to his heart's content. To slaughter the Sith in front of him, then follow through with his comrade that was engaging the senior Jedi within their group. Months of repressed anger and rage felt primed to be released against the one who taunted him-- no, he threatened him, using the female Jedi he wished to protect as bait.

Had the circumstances been different, Luc could have stepped back and regained his composure. Yet the meld that engulfed the Jedi across the planet's surface had grown weak in its connection Lucien, a steady wave of interference coming off the same sword that otherwise empowered him to fight. He felt the fear coming off some of his allies, just as much as the hatred for the Sith that many of them carried.

Their emotions melded with his own, without the benefit of the positive emotions that otherwise could have balanced him out. The relic in his hands ensured that there were none to give, with each successive swing of the blade.

His stance loosened, his grip shifing from two hands to one, and his gaze rested into a predatory glare that fixated itself solely upon his enemy. His hatred boiled for the man's gelded appearance, the darkness that clouded his mind beginning to otherwise veil the rest of the world away from his thoughts.

Another burst of speed sent him forwards. There were no thought behind his actions this time around; he moved off instinct alone with no hesitation in his actions, his mind focused solely on pressing the Sith to his limits. Luc wanted both their cards on the table, a fact that was evident by the explosive power he carried behind the weight of his blade. An onslaught of savage strikes surged towards the Sith, delivering the appearance of a wild assault to the eye of the untrained.

But his actions wouldn't be a mystery to your average Lord of the Sith. Each one of those wild attempts to strike his opponent were being carried with an instinctive gracefulness that flowed the previous through to the next. He was a Vaapad practitioner, and one who was beginning to lose control over the bloodlust that carried him into war against the Sith.

The meld's effects began to wane even further. A familiar voice entered his mind, its presence lingering within his peripheral. It was pleased at his actions. Happy to see him to fight with everything he had. It urged him to kill the Sith-- to let his emotions run free.

And just like Luc, it couldn't help but smile.


Auteme | Mato Kejak | Marrow | Lark | Asmundr Varobalder​

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

Korriban Sith Academy - Roof
Writing Partners: Nida Perl | Kyra Perl
​

He'd faced Sith before, and even taken down a couple despite not being a Jedi. Force-users bleed just like any other being of flesh, turns out. Making them bleed is the hard part, as their enhanced reflexes, strength and speed gives them an edge against pretty much any foe. Force powers and lightsabers just tip the scales in their favour even more so.

But they can be arrogant, thinking a lone soldier an easy prey. Most soldiers, yes. Thirdas wasn't most soldiers.

Despite his size, he was able to duck and dodge Nida's rapid strikes as if he too were a trained Force-user. He had his father's strength, but also his mother's agility. A deadly combination, one the young man had demonstrated on numerous occasions.

This time was different. This wasn't some nameless Sith scum looking to make a name for themself, if that was the case Thirdas would've simply seized the first opening he got to grab and rip the enemy's arm clean from its socket and beat them to death with it. But this time he was fighting Nida, and he would not allow himself to harm her.

He sensed the build-up of energy emanating from Kyra, but had little time to look her way for what she was doing. Suddenly a massive burst of light washed over them, yet it was not blinding to his eyes. It took his breath away as it hit him, but otherwise left him unharmed. He noticed Nida wasn't attacking him relentlessly any longer, but rather stood there as if in shock.

She then began to scream, dropping her saber as her physical appearance turned frail and gaunt.

"Nida!"

He cried out as she collapsed towards him, catching him so off-guard it put him on his back with her safely in his arms.

"Nida...?"

Sitting up, he scooped her up and held her like a child, rocking her against his chest. He ripped off his mask and goggles, face filled with fear that she was lost. He got up on his knees, then stood up with her catatonic form in his arms.

"Kyra! Ky-- Bring the ship in close, we need to get her out of here!"

There was a desperation to his voice never before heard by anyone.

 

[Marrow]

Location: Valley of Kings, near the Tomb of Darth Bane
Objective: Enshrine the trespassers within a gilded tomb. Extinguish the Light.
Equipment: Red Lightsaber, Unspecified Talismans, Glorious Golden Mask. Crystalline Blade (Field Alchemy).
Writing With: Auteme & Lucien Dooku - Opposition | Lark & Mato Kejak - Nearby.

It must be a strange sight, to an outsider - a Jedi moving through the erratic motions of barely-controlled Vapaad while the Sith he faced favour a far more defensive Soresu-Makashi hybrid, glittering robes flowing around him as he danced away from the relentless offensive...

... the young swordsman had proven a match for the rapid counterattacks he favoured, however, especially with the intervention of the other one. Ideally, he would keep this one at a distance while closing in on the light-wielder, but in battle one made do with what one had. Suddenly giving up on his rapid evasion, Aurum moved to face an especially vicious swing head-on - and, as Lucien's blade struck his, the latter shattered with a sonorous crack.

Rather than fall to the sands, the supernaturally sharpened shards of crystallised sand shot towards his foe as if eager to spill blood.

Making the most of the slight break, the lightsaber leapt from his left hand to the right just before he clenched the former, the air surrounding Auteme compressing and heating rapidly, potentially to the point of combustion - he couldn't handle Lucien, not with her abominable Light harrying him.

Already, his corrupted form ached, the strange procedures he had gone through in the name of power repugnant to the purity of her will.

 

[Aveline Cuiléin]

-

LOCATION: Korriban, Sith Academy
EQUIPMENT: Meditation Amulet, Cosaint Bracers, Simple Jedi Robes
TAGS: Jax Thio | Pom Stych Tivé​

Aveline flipped through the air, in an unusually acrobatic move for her. She leapt over the steps, landing on the opposite side. As she struck the landing, her saber carved through one of the troopers. Kark. That image was going to haunt her. The move seemed to evoke some fury in the fallen's companions, and more blaster fire was levelled at her. She gritted her teeth, making her body as small as possible while frantically trying to parry everything that thrown at her. She could smell something burning. Thankfully it was only the edge of her robe that had gotten singed.

Jax had her back though, and soon he eased the pressure off of her. Yet... Something was wrong. Though Aveline was not yet the one most attuned to the Force and the state of everyone around her, through the Mind Meld she also felt Jax... He was troubled. Did he no longer believe they could win? Were the bodies strewn about the steps of the Academy, and the planet as a whole getting to him, much like she was sure it would get to her once she had time to stop and process it?

There was no time to consider, or even ask him, as suddenly he warned her. RPGs on the rooftops. Aveline! Pull back now! She froze at the sound of his voice. True enough, there were some on the roof and they fired upon her! Firm in her stance, she held out a hand... Drawing upon the Force, she - nope, too slow! Aveline threw herself off to the side, falling down the side of the steps. The explosion shook behind her, tossing up rocks and dirt where she had stood mere moments ago. Her landing was rough, and surely she'd be well bruised. It was, however, nothing compared to what was about to happen to those left on the steps...

Something... Someone... Aveline didn't understand it, but seemingly out of nowhere, someone appeared. A dark sorceress... Was this a Sith Lord? Darkness surrounded them, and death rained upon them. She found it hard believing it was a mere coincidence, that just as this mysterious new arrival showed up a ship collapsed and fell from the skies, its pieces shattered and raining death down on everyone below. No one seemed safe, neither the Sith troopers guarding the Academy entrance, nor the soldiers under Jax's command. One pice of the ship hit one of the RPG troopers on the roof of the Academy, taking the tip of the structure down with it, causing more destruction and mayhem.

Aveline cried out, though the sound of her voice was muffled by everything else. She remained where she had landed before, staying low and close to the ground, using her brown Jedi robes to cover her face and body until whatever the hell this was passed.

 

[Darth Athora]

​

Darth Athora
Bridge of the Legator II
Kulthis


Activity upon the bridge of Legator II was status quo at the moment. Diagnostics were being monitored feverishly to ensure perfect battleship integrity, communications with other stations watched carefully in case of service interruption, and status reports were consistently being fed to the bridge from the other ships in the Belderone fleet.

"Status report, Trierarch." called out Darth Athora, the commander of the Super Star Destroyer. She stood tall at the center of the bridge, looking down upon her subordinates.

"My Lady. Everything is in order as of 30 seconds ago. We are nearly prepared for departure to Vjun."

"Excellent. As soon as we are ready to depart, do so." Athora turned away from the viewport and her gaze fell upon her Pantoran apprentice. Her presence upon the bridge was unforeseen as she was meant to be training. "This had better be important." Athora scowled.

"You have a message. On your private terminal. From Felucia. Could it be Governor Mavor?" Anila's tone conveyed a slight disgust. THe thought of a lowly puppet governor conversing with her Master was something that was unusual and strange.

"Very well." Athora departed from the bridge and entered her private chambers. There, she walked to her desk and pressed a button upon the holo-console there. It's red flash alerted her to an important message, likely the one from the governor. Suddenly, the holographic form of the Felucian governor appeared and the message began to play.

"Darth Athora, we are under attack. The Galactic Alliance has invaded Felucia in strength. Our naval defenses are spread thin and they are beginning to overwhelm us. I beg for your aid in this unwarranted attack! You must hurr-" The message suddenly cut off. Athora slammed her fist on her desk.

Anila sighed deeply. "So, this means we aren't going for training on Vjun then."

Moments later, Athora stepped back onto the bridge in a hurry. "Felucia is under attack. Chart a course for the system and alert the rest of the fleet. We move now!" she bellowed. With haste, the bridge suddenly sprung into action as previous preparations were changed and battle stations were manned. The message had been relayed out to the rest of Belderone fleet who then followed in kind and prepared to jump to Felucia. "Send word to our forces on the planet that we shall be providing support soon."

Within a few minutes, the fleet was entering hyperspace and headed for Felucia.

Darth Prazutis | Taeli Raaf | Marrow | Madelyn Lowe | Iasha Rha ​

 

[Jax Thio]

​

Location: Korriban Sith Academy (Entrance)​

Equipment: Jedi Amor, Jax's Lightsaber​

Tag: Aveline Cuiléin , Pom Stych Tivé (Enemy)​

​

Jax entire body felt as though it was dipped in the Artic waters.​

​

He briefly staggered back nearly losing consciousness, there was a great disturbance in the force. A powerful darkness was approaching them, normally Jax wouldn't be so affected by a Sith presence who or what was happening was something that was against the nature and the force itself. He managed to recover just in time to barely dodge the rockets hurling towards the group he found himself face first painfully landing on the sandy steps his lightsaber deactivated as soon as he hit the ground. Aveline barely dodged one of the rockets as it collided onto the steps exploding on impact the explosion briefly rocked the floor deafening Jax's hearing . The Shocktroopers weren't so lucky, a third rocket scored a direct hit on to the assaulting force. From the corner of his eye, Jax could see at least 5 bodies being ripped apart and another 5 being lifted into the air and landing hard.​

​

The Sith Troopers began to slowly advance on their position, firing their automatic blaster rifles as they slowly descended down the stairs. Calling upon the force, Jax shook off the shell shock affects and kicked himself up activating his Lightsaber in the process. He deflected incoming blaster fire from every angle directing most of them to their respective shooters. The Shocktroopers returned fire rallying behind Jax, the Jedi moved slowly and patiently deflecting blaster bolts and when there was an opening, Jax summoned a massive force push blowing away 4 Sith Troopers as they all landed on to the pillars. Jax can hear bones crunching as they landed on the statue.​

​

"Aveline!" Jax shouted wanting to help his Padawan but then the same disturbance surged throughout his body. Jax shuddered but fought it off and kept pushing on, soon he found Academy being engulfed by dark shadow. He briefly stopped and looked up, his eyes growing wide seeing what the force was warning him about. A Sith sorceress lorded above them began to unleash death upon them killing Shocktrooper and Sith Trooper alike, Jax used the force to redirect some of the power but it was too strong for him.​

​

"AVELINE!" Jax shouted again his voice strained with worry, he found his apprentice ahead of him lying low perhaps in fear of what was happening. "No...." Jax whispered. Had the nerve of battle got to her? He wouldn't be surprised, but there was no time to dwell on it, using the force Jax pulled Aveline to his arms as he stared at her.​

​

"Look at me!" Jax said sending calm senses to his Padawan. "We're going to make it! Let's pull back! And try to strike this Sith Lord from another angle!"​

​

Grabbing Aveline's hand Jax began to run down the stairs for cover. "This mission has already gone to hell," he mumbled gripping his padawan's hand.​

​

 

[Eldaah Aderyn]

Sith allies: Madelyn Lowe Karn Zhakul Darth Athora
GA enemies: Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Djorn Bline Seydou of Thyrsus Adhira Chandra Captain Raith Top Bishop

She felt two feelings of disappointment; hers and her Masters. They had both hoped that the Jedi would prove to be a different breed than the duty bound zealots of the New Jedi Order that her Master had helped bring down, along with a previous form of the Galactic Alliance. The fact that her scouts were sending impressions through the Force that the Jedi were proceeding with the assault on Kway Teow proved otherwise. Lives meant nothing to them, the men and women under them even less so, as long as their objective was met.

Dozens of men and women were grouped together, all of them wearing the colors of the Alliance and their unit identification as part of Artillery Line Aurek or from the assault carrier outposts, surrounded by blood hungry Felucians. All of them had just had their death certificates signed by their General... for nothing at all. Choices would have consequences. Placing the transmitter on the floor before the captives, she once again tapped into the GA comms to send her message while equally bouncing the signal to other Holonet receivers and comm buoys that would send the live transmission to Alliance and Sith space. Her Master wanted the message to go out after all and specifically to one Allyson Locke .

"I admit disappointment, General Treicolt, Jedi Knight Treicolt, that you both decided to not come rescue the men and women that serve under you after I gave you the invitation to come get them. It seemed such a simple decision to make, one that would not even impact your assault on Kway Teow as delegation could have meant your orders would still be given out to your assault force. These men and women trusted you with their lives... and this is what their devotion to you bought them. Abandoned to take a meaningless city."

She made a gesture with her hand. It would not be Sith troopers gunning them down, nor would it be the red lightsabers of the Sith themselves. It would be the Jungle Felucians, the natives of the world the Alliance was trying to take, that began the butchery of the captives live on the Holonet. Every strike of their bone weapons drew blood or bludgeoned. Every strike another needless death that the Jedi could have prevented by simply coming to the Ancient Abyss. The only thankful part of this was the lack of screams as all the prisoners had been gagged. It was over soon enough, and she turned the transmitter back to her.

It was said that Darth Sidious had once constructed the perfect Jedi trap on Utapau. Step one was irresistible bait, in this case the city itself was such a fixation for the Alliance but it was bait nonetheless. By taking it, they would be surrounded. By besieging it, they would be surrounded. Step two was a remote location, which had been the part that was not exactly true as the Sith held the world but that had been adapted by forcing this month-long slog. Step three was a powerful warrior or force to fight the Jedi, and while she was skilled, her orders were only to engage the Jedi once they came, but it was step four that really sealed the deal. Step four, create a win-win situation.

By coming to Felucia and landing ground troops, the Alliance would soon realize they had lost from the beginning. The planet could not be pacified, its inhabitants could not be culled, without taking the world-spanning and incredibly dangerous and resistant jungle. It didn't matter to Eldaah or the Sith if the Alliance took the city or captured the water treatment plants. What would they do with them? Destroy them? Sabotage them? Hold them indefinitely? They didn't have the men, the supplies, the lack of morality, or the time to do so. The Sith had realized this when they occupied the world. No nation could spare the manpower needed to tame a jungle.

"You may believe this world pacified, that capturing Kway Teow will result in some victory, but you do not understand this planet," she stated. "Settlements and cities are not the true centers of power. Taking them only means you are surrounded by the jungle. And the jungle... is eternal." A calling would go through the Force, one that Loske and Maynard would no doubt feel. It would be their only warning.

From the jungle around them, the fungus would seem to come alive by itself. Shambling constructs of fungi, spores pouring from their body or being launched in explosive seed pods, and screeching their displeasure at the Alliance disturbance. The pools of what had been assumed to be water came alive, tendrils reaching out to ensnare legs or arms, masses of goo surging forward to engulf any they could. In the air, screeches signaled the arrival of bat-like creatures launching bio-plasma from their tails or manta-creatures sending forth explosive offspring at the Alliance armor. And the monsters would just keep surging out of the jungle from all sides, led by Jungle Felucians and the Graug of Karn Zhakul.

The transmission would be shifted to just local comms for the next ultimatum.

"If you want the swarm to stop, Jedi Knight Treicolt, General Treicolt, you will need to come to the Ancient Abyss and stem the source. Otherwise, every single soldier, every loyal friend you brought here, will die. You will run out of ammunition and men long before the jungle does. I'll be waiting."

 

[Asmundr Varobalder]

PROSPERITY’S PROTECTOR | THERE IS NO CHAOS, THERE IS HARMONY
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | STRIKE TEAM SHAN
P A N I C

One of the minds that had abandoned his grip slowly came back, though Allyson Locke 's approach was tenuous. He welcomed her, slowly flexing and bending a cavity for her psyche to nestle into. The gentle tides of the empyrean ebbed and flowed next to her Padawan, encircling, and Asmundr grew warm from that relationship.

He wanted to hold on to all of the like precious treasures. To guard and sanctify each one in this journey. It was his charge as a warden, and it brought him honour to oblige and pontificate himself as a pillar of Light for those that relied on his masterful stronghold. This was perhaps the last reflective moment he’d ever have, in the wake of battle, a reality that brought him comfort.

Something was amiss..or would be –– something that would interrupt that comfort he sought to provide. He could feel it, like a drum getting louder. Their destiny approached.

Dread was all around, but fear like this had excited them up to this point. All those Jedi nodes throughout the network. They were letting it bubble quietly within themselves, and he did not interfere. Dread was a tonic, it heightened their senses, honed a raw edge to their passions.
The more refined it was, the closer they’d come, closer to...Victory. He sensed. But laced with something else….what was it? He couldn’t see it, quite. Always in motion, the future; difficult to see. Its apparitions tantalizing, swirling spectres always changing. Smoke was their future on Korriban, thunderous with conquest and destruction.

Suddenly a dark cloud filled his heart, hovered there, and nestled a clammy chill into the corners of his soul. Asmundr absorbed the vitriol undefensively, siphoning it to the chambers of his mind alone and navigating it to circumvent the others. He forced a gentle inflection into the meld, to soothe the turmoil brewing in the souls attached –– denial.

He felt….denial, withdrawal, hurt, pain, duty. Weakness.

One soul grew so tumultuous, that Asmundr’s hold grew tenuous. He’d foreseen it, but still, the severance initiated by Kenth Ordo struck him. It started in his forehead, and blossomed between his ears and spiked out through his teeth. Gasping for air, the giant staggered to counterweight his metaphysical loss.

Rage. Slaughter. Self-charged purpose.​

Rurik Fel ’s fury was tempered to himself but amplified through the conduit that was the Viking. A leashed penumbra threatened close to the connection established between himself, and the Sword, and all others by extension.


Violence. Chaos. Hatred. Passion.

In a simultaneous timeline, and a different one all at once, Lucien Dooku ’s vicious onslaught incarnated darkness as a weapon. A form restricted from many that were connected to the neural net established between strike teams, and he was drawing the animosity over the tether like a veil.

Memories, realities, instances in-the-moment-as they were and were not poured through him now. Clues, suspicions, innocence murdered, taken, visceral pain, confusion, hurt, anguish, poison, the darkside –– this was too much to assimilate, to sort through. It was an information overload. He was trembling and whimpering all at once. In the waking world, the master was undeniably sobbing.

There was light –– he could connect and augment that which Kyra Perl manifested through Coren Starchaser . That lattice of minds was murkish and far away, but if he could only just..yes, so close if only just a little –––

Asmundr physically bellowed out as Zaavik Perl writhed and suffered; ripping him from his mono focus of amplifying whatever slivers of light he could gather from this evil planet.

Darkness absconded the fragments of luminescence and flickered in their spread, growing like an insatiable wildfire that burned and seared the peripherals of his mind. He screamed again.

Treacherous tendrils stretched into his network, contaminating the connections. They threatened to consume into irredeemable darkness.

For every desire he had to warden eternally over his mission, be the grand protector, he had to let go. A sacrifice necessary for the preservation of those vulnerable to his influence. His duty was to protect..and to warden over them now, meant withdrawing, and leaving them on their own lest the infection spread and bleed into those who were still pure.

His connection with the Sword remained the strongest, based on his personal request for Asmundr's aid against the Dark Lord.

<Forgive me.>

In a decisive instant, the relationships were severed. The connection melted, leaving only a void in its wake.

"I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me."

He felt its pull like a magnet, like a vacuum, like a torch in the dead night.

Desperately, he clung to that beacon that stretched above the network so that he might not fall to all that darkness he'd consumed. Asmundr sought with more earnestness than ever to reap the zen of Zark San Tekka ’s benevolence. Climbing, grasping, and clawing through the metaphysical framework, he opened everything up so completely to constellations of brilliance that fed into him so that he might be replenished.

For a timeless moment, all the world felt still.

ALLIES | NJO | GA | Leon Gallo // Jannik Morlandt // Master Zoryu
BATTLMELD: SEVERED
ENEMIES | TSE | THE DARKSIDE​

 

[Auteme]

Lucien Dooku Marrow | Mato Kejak Lark ​

The Force roared out a warning as the gilded Sith's hand rose. She pulled the light to her, surrounding herself in its warmth to protect herself from the storm. Yes. Yes. Together the Jedi stood strong, and she drew on them too, knowing their support would strengthen the barrier. Even in this dark place they'd shine their light.

The barrier formed.

It tugged at her mind.

First was Kenth. Then Fel.

Her heart dropped.

Then Lucien. Then Zaavik.

The light flickered. Dimmed. Extinguished.

She fell to her knees. Even a dozen meters away from Lucien she felt alone.

What was left of her barrier protected her only for a moment; the pressure and subsequent combustion burst through a moment later. The explosion sent her flying.

For a moment she was out cold -- at least, she thought it was a moment. She didn't know. Through the biting sandstorm she could only barely make out the shape of the tomb ahead. The pain blurred her vision, the roaring storm dulled her senses, the loneliness assailed her soul. The meld had dropped. For a moment she wondered if Asmundr had cut them off intentionally, seeing some darkness there too much to bear for the group. But no, she knew it was worse. Every Jedi was suddenly alone in the dark.

She struggled to her feet, raising her hands to block out the dust. It didn't stop hurting; she soon realized that much of the skin on her palms had been burned away along with some on her face. Still the storm stole any chance at respite. All she could do was forge onwards.

She needed to find Lucien. Someone -- anyone, anything to push away the despair. She stumbled on through the sand, tears obscuring everything further. Nonetheless she got closer and closer.

With what energy she had left she cried out into the storm. "Lucien! I'm alright, don't stop!"

One foot in front of the other. Closer and closer...

And when she got there, what then?

The despair crept closer and closer.