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 | Bernard of Arca
RHYSODE // Hal Vaiken | Kenth Ordo | Aramis Sunstrider
ADVERSARY // Gnox the Insatiable
KORRIBAN

AM I DREAMING?

KORRIBAN // RECONNISANCE CAMP
Immediately following Belly of the Beast
​

Korriban's cold wind rolled malignantly through the invidious canyon that played host to their hidden camp. Red dust kicked up from the rocky surfaces, dancing in gritty clouds that left vexing grains of sediment on the skin and in the hair of the two Jedi. Taking his Master's advice to rest became increasingly difficult with every frigid, chalky sting that managed to bypass the fluttering synthfabric tarp that hung haphazardly windward on the ridge.

Zaavik wasn't so naive as to have a preconceived notion that this would be a comfortable accommodation. The bitter atmosphere of Korriban was an unpleasant surprise that made things much worse than he'd prepared himself for. The Padawan always imagined the ominous scarlet planet as being hot and dry. That would have been much more agreeable than cold and dry. Just as the Sith were, Korriban was insidiously misleading; a frigid wasteland wearing the facade of an arid heat-sphere.

Just as the wind appeared to slow down, the crisp gale would suddenly bite at every patch of exposed skin and blow away any hope of reprieve along with it. Perhaps Korriban was playing tricks on him, sharing the Sith's signature penchant for sadism. The zephyr drafting through the cracks and crevasses of the canyon resonated a sinister howl. A horrible, undulating sound mocked his every feeling of discomfort. If the Padawan didn't know any better, he'd say Korriban was laughing at his shivering woe.

Sitting against an uneven rock, knees pulled in to conserve warmth, Zaavik endured. By some miracle, his eyes began to flutter and grow heavy, and sleep came. The wintry uneasiness faded away beneath the off-black ocean of slumber. The Padawan slumped slightly to the left as his breathing slowed to a smooth, shallow rhythm. Korriban's disquieting gale was now, for the moment, no longer a concern.

This would not be a fruitful drowse. Korriban's influence twisted every inert hallucination that played in his mind. Whispers of baleful origin slipped through his ears. Doomsayers and liars recited their doubts, prophecies, and fabrications to the tune of abominable oneiro-watercolor imagery. Memories replied in vague recollection like holoreels from the least desirable catalog tucked within the farthest recesses of Zaavik's memory. It was a crass menagerie of imagery not so unlike any other dream.

This time, however, felt like the ancestral dark world itself amplified every drop of anguish that would flow from that sleeping fountain. Was this a cruel machination of the Sith? The after-effects of The Machinist's mental trap? Or was it something more? Something Zaavik and Allyson both were afraid to see?

MAKE FOR DANGER WITHOUT CAUTION
​

“Zaavik, Alliance contacted us. They’re dropping. We’re heading back into the Academy. How’s your head?”​

His eyes opened slowly to the accostation. Awake now, but it hardly felt as he'd slept at all. The first cherished few moments of newly awoken ignorance passed before he once again became terribly aware of the cold. "Already?" He complained, groaning haggardly as he brought his knees away from his chin and began to stretch. How long had he slept? A night? An hour? A minute? It didn't even feel like ten seconds had gone by since he winked out of consciousness.

Rolling to one side, he pushed off the ground and slowly made it to his feet. His head spun momentarily, a dull ache assaulting the top-center of his forehead. His fingers rubbed hard against the furrowed flesh above his brow, easing the sensation to dull into something more bearable. "It's fine. Brain didn't melt, so I'd say we're starting strong." The humor in the reply didn't match the unenthused tone in his voice.

Allyson's concise method of dismantling and scrubbing her transmission computer was a stark contrast to the Padawan's own disposal of his. A swift stomp crushed the device into sharp technological fragments that quickly splayed themselves into a small pile on the ridge. A flick of his wrist used the force to sweep them off the far ledge and down into the canyon. Data wasn't unrecoverable in this method, but who was going to look for something they didn't know existed at the bottom of a canyon?

“We need to get more information from the Academy and some possible Sith Artifacts.”​

"What kind of idiot keeps artifacts in an academy?" His mouth, as it tended to do, moved much quicker than the filter in his brain. "Ah, uh- Shit, I mean-" Zaavik finished tearing down the wind-tarp before turning toward his Master. "What could we possibly be looking for in an academy? Sith... textbooks? Darth Evil's Big Book of Torture? Lord Unkind's Tome of Many Murder Methods? The Alchemized Sith Pen of Evil?" He underhand tossed the folded-up tarp in her direction for disposal. "Don't tell me, its show and tell day, isn't it?"

Several dozen bad jokes later, the camp had been dismantled and any trace of its existence reasonably decimated. Even if the Sith knew where to look, it was incredibly unlikely they'd find any sign of it. Such an easily deleted accommodation didn't play well for comfort, and Zaavik's still muscles were a testament to how rough the going had been. That was just a fact of being a Shadow. If he wanted to be comfortable, he would have chosen to be a scholar. Not that he was smart enough, anyway.

“Hey, Zaavik, how do you feel about blowing up the place when we’re done gutting it?”
“Have a bit of fun, hmm?”​

The Padawan made a face, squinting with a slanted brow. An expression laden with suspicion. "Was demo part of the assignment, or are you just bored?"

 

[Avernus]

K O R R I B A N
V A L L E Y _ O F _ K I N G S

DID YOU MISS ME?

Tomb of Some Forgotten Loser
Style and Profile
AMCO
​

Chaos was a horribly dull plane. How cruel the force could be, banishing every near embodiment of perfection to this place upon their expiration. Thankfully, the afterlife hadn't been totally fruitless for Darth Avernus. Whispers and nudges could manifest at any Lord's will in the land of the living with a little effort. Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt thought herself rid of him on Bastion, but she had mistaken. His eyes always saw, and his lips continued to whisper malicious nothings to correct her back to the course he'd laid out before her.

This loophole was hardly praisable. He was still dead. Despite his best efforts, he hadn't quite found a way to fix that. But as with any other fallen Sith, he was utterly fiending for the opportunity. So much so, that even the smallest tear in the Netherwold would mix a milkshake that would bring Avernus sprinting to the applicable yard. Many a spirit estranged from the physical world would have given up by now. But not Big Money Darth 'Quadruple C' 'Everybodywannaseemeandmyhaterswannabemebecauseimglistening' Avernus.

An opportunity was just as often luck as it was anything else. When a sizeable rift came in the collective death-soup of Chaos, Avernus's formless essence was more than willing to crush any soul between him and the egress of this prison. Clawing his way from the ever-spinning torrent of torment, Avernus pulled himself through the threshold with every ounce of ghostly strength he could muster. The lamentations and curses of those left behind rebuked Avernus with just about every spooky and cliche dead-guy-rhetoric you can imagine.

With an intense, golden light, Avernus's spirit stepped through the conjured ethereal doorway. Subtle transparency adorned the opulent golds and purples, complete with the milk-white angelic wings that were very clearly a fabrication. The muted sounds of half-tangible steps wrapped against the stone floor as he took his first steps back into the land of the living. A flamboyant raise of the hand, followed by a deft snap of his fingers sent the opening violently collapsing upon itself.

The senses overwhelmed themselves with long-absent sensation. Avernus's head tilted back as a smell managed to find purchase in his ethereal nostrils. A look of blissful pleasure adorned his face as he whiffed the dank, dusty cavern of the tomb. Smelled like.... power. Avernus's appropriated human form flickered back to his born, crimson skinned Pureblood appearance as the influence of his ancestral homeworld took its toll. Face tendrils, bone spurs, and wrinkles in all their eccentric glory faced the world for the first time in too long.

Avernus began to laugh. A posh utterance just as infuriating as it had ever been. This was Korriban. How fitting. "Prospero," he spoke, his voice shifting back to the dry intonation of his second body as his appearance once again changed. "My old friend," again he spoke, this time with the posh High-Imperial returning along with the Pureblood form. "Could this be a welcome coincidence, or did you return my grace to this world of your own volition?" A gleam like polished gold began to sparkle off the outline of his spirit as a cape of exotic feathers began to grow spontaneously from the back collar of his adornments. This time, he spoke in his native ur-kittat, retaining pureblood facade, "I would hope it is only a coincidence, given that the utter lack of fanfare is... blatant. Or, are you just being a bad sport?"

Not even death could shake that punchable attitude and highfalutin demeanor.

 

[Bernard of Arca]

​

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.

 

[Ulrich]

Location: Valley of the dark lords.
Objective: Dissuade trespassers.
Equipment: NA
Opponent: Aramis Sunstrider

<< Come then, and face one worthy of your draconic fury. >>

Telepathy. Not quite possessed of the same clarity inherent in the mental communications of the archmagus Prazutis, but still clear enough to convey everything that needed be said. Casting my gaze upon the newcomer I took in his measure. Close to six feet in height , relatively youthful with platinum hair and an athletic physique. The azure of his eyes seemed a slight aberration from the human norm. Something closely related to homo sapiens then, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what. Well as long as he wasn't a Shi'ido or Anzat it shouldn't make too much difference. One thing that did surprise me however was the obvious lack of a visible lightsaber. To my understanding the weapons were almost ubiquitous among the Jedi order. That this man carried none suggested that he was either extremely conceited or had a mastery of force powers potent enough to forgo such weapons.

My initial plan had been to put my own preternatural abilities to work in calling up a horde of Korriban zombies to swarm the lone knight. Such distractions would have better assisted me avoid the deadly blade. It seemed however that a more forthright approach was in order. I lacked the ability to send my own mental transmissions and so I simply replied via mundane speech.

"Honestly I feel little to no odium towards you or yours. The Jedi order doesn't much concern me as a whole. Were you a follower of the Mandalorian creed or a thief absconding with some of my personal effects I might bear you more animosity. That being said I have for the moment aligned myself with the Sith and thus it is my duty to protect their interests along with the communal resources that we share from desecration."

Having said me piece I dropped into a quadrupedal stance. If I was to engage in melee I would want to do it in the quickest way possible. I judged the greater vantage and difficulty of a shorter foe to get to my weaker areas offered as a biped didn't make up for the loss of alacrity that came with such a position when it came to exchanging blows in this particular circumstance. Building up speed I charged towards the figure of the waiting jedi knight. The ground around me shaking with each impact kicking up sand and dust to permeate the air. As I neared the Jedi knight I pulled my head back as if readying for a cobra like bite. This was a feint , even as my mouth opened I struck out with my right forelimb claws ready to rake and tear at the warriors exposed flesh.

 

[Salamander]

​

Location: Somewhere on the surface of Korriban
Objective: Fight a Jedi
Gear: Paranoia | Regret | Suspicion | Auger Personal Shield
Writing With: Leon Gallo

High in his tower on Cophrigin V, Arrius Messala had been content to remain far removed from the endless conflicts plaguing the Sith Empire. He was aware of the rumors of its impending demise, given that the Bryn were biting its tail while the Jedi and the Alliance gnashed at its head, but it was high time the snake was eaten, if not by swallowing its own tail then at the hands of bigger prey.

That said, he drew a line where Korriban was concerned.

Korriban. The homeworld of the Sith, with an ancient necropolis to rival those of Boz Pity and Dahrtag. The primary location of the true Sith Academy, always and forever.

It was also, for the most part, utterly inhospitable, blown by searing sands and populated by vicious predators. There were no major cities or settlements full of innocent civilians like at Dantooine. Nothing to really rule over for an already bloated faction swelling out from the Core. No, the invasion of Korriban was simply a gesture of power, the GA flexing on the Sith by attempting to conquer its ancestral home, worthless as it was to them in the long run.

What a pain in the ass to conquer, too! Even Messala could feel the oppressive atmosphere of the Dark Side gathering around the eye of the storm. He hated to be in the shoes of the Light Siders trying to fight against this evil maelstrom.

Crossing the sands, Messala was a distinct figure to anyone who could squint against the particles of yellow sand blasting their eyes, clad as he was from head to toe in a suit of meat-red armor. Reaching out with the Force, he detected several presences nearby… one of the groups was nearer to him than the others. He started toward them.

The presences gradually resolved themselves into individual beings. A Master, deep in concentration. Battle Meditation? Or a Battle Meld? One was broader, the other was more personal. He couldn’t tell which the Master was doing.

But it looked like he was being guarded by a Padawan. Messala had never fought an idealistic young Padawan before. Mostly because it didn’t seem like a fair match. Well, he would deal with this one and then handle the Master.

His lightsaber flared to life, the molten blade turning the blown sand to shards of glass that shattered against the ground. Ooh, better not step on any of those. It would go right through his hooves…

“Hello, Jedi,” Messala greeted cheerfully. “What a surprise to see you visiting Korriban. It’s not exactly at its prettiest at this time of year—you should’ve come in the spring or fall instead. Ah, well. Are you enjoying your stay so far?”

 

[Kyra Perl]

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

Spoiler: The Story

Korriban Sith Academy - Approaching
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.

"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?'

 

[Eldaah Aderyn]

​

Allies: Madelyn Lowe Darth Prazutis
Enemies: Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Djorn Bline Seydou of Thyrsus Aerarii Tithe
Equipment: Lightsaber Armor

Objective: Make it painful

Felucia was a world that did not like strangers. If one were to ask the Gossam settlers of bygone millennia, they would tell you horror stories of establishing a foothold on world. If one were to ask the native Felucians, the ones that avoided the jungles as best they could, they could tell you about the dangers they faced every day. If one were to ask the Sith when they occupied the world... they would tell you something else entirely.

Felucia was a world of endless wonders to a Sith alchemist or bioengineer. Every creature on the world was a fascination, every plant was a potential new experiment. And most interesting was just how closely the planet, and its inhabitants and its very environment, could be effected by a swing within the Force to either side. It was what had attracted the attention of the Lady of Secrets and her power base to the planet soon after the planet was within the territory of the Sith Empire. Within the remains of an ancient Sarlacc, venerated by the Jungle Felucians centuries ago, a laboratory had been established. A rapport had been established between the Order of Shadow Sith and the Jungle Felucians, made all the easier as the planet tilted further and further into darkness within the ethereal realm of the Force.

And now the Galactic Alliance had arrived to the world.

Eldaah had been ordered by her Master to watch and observe the Alliance advance, to keep hidden as they moved through the jungle towards the city and the water treatment plants. Then, when the opportune moment came... she would do as her Master had bid. They had watched as the Alliance established their line of camps. They had watched as they fought through the plant and beasts of the world. They had watched as the advance towards capital neared its end, as artillery placements were moved into position for the final assault. They had watched the sympathizers lead them here, as they made their subtle presence known in the city.

They were thinned out... and a twinge in the back of her mind, a command from her Master... Yes, she agreed, it was time. They would test the Jedi here, test their resolve, and more importantly... test their creations in a true battle.

Eldaah, masked and armored, turned to the Jungle Felucian Chieftain with her. It's form was twisted from the darkness, its spirit exuded rage and bloodlust. Yellow war paints decorated its body, its sword of bone and attuned crystals clenched tightly in its fist. Behind them, more Jungle Felucians, equally misshapen and hungry for war, waited. They had been oh so patient to not attack the Alliance...

"We draw them to us," she said. "Kill as many as you desire, but leave a few survivors. They will be the bait."

The chieftain nodded, issuing screeches and snarls to his shaman. The shaman would send a calling through the Force to its fellows at the other warbands hidden in the plant life around the assault carriers and the artillery. They would all receive the same message. Show these invaders that Felucia itself desired blood and would not be sated until they were thrown off.

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity
Whilstone of Power|| Acharn|| Urfael|| Mithralian
Voice Sample

Current Location: Tomb of Ajunta Pall


As the dust-sodden remains of the tomb stirred and whipped about the Shaper he drew in a slow, undisturbed breathe. He was far and away too used to the dilapidated and stale air of the tombs of Korriban for Pall's tomb to inconvenience him, no, what roused the Shaper's anger, what made his blood boil, was that the very heart of the Sith was under attack. Each step made the Shaper's fingers twitch, his lips threaten to break into a disdainful sneer, as his thoughts lashed about like the angry length of whip peeling flesh from bone. More than even the current Empire, more than the Sith even of his time, Korriban had come to be all but synonymous with the Sith, their ideals, their teachings, their history and knowledge, and the idea of the filth of the Jedi desecrating it's sacred surface as more infuriating than an infestation of fleas were to a hound.

The Whilstones danced above the Shaper's brown and his eyes did not miss the signs that someone had entered the tomb shortly before him. The dust surrounding the doorways as freshly disturbed, and not in a pattern that would indicate the beasts of Korriban. The Shaper slid Urfael from his hip as he marched deeper and deeper into the tomb. He was here for his own goal, his own reasons, and as he cast his senses forward with the Force they crashed into Ladybug and caused the ever-burning torches surrounding Ajunta Pall's sarcophagus to sputter and dance wildly. The Shaper was fueled by pure, seething, ancient hatred.

The Shaper inhaled deeply, furiously, as he motioned with his free hand. The ancient mechanisms sealing the tomb unlocking far more abruptly than they were used to, harsh squeals and grinding noises echoing deeper into the tomb as the Shaper revealed the inner sanctum. The triple light of the Whilstones above his brow casting pale, harsh light over the deep darkness of the tomb and Mikilanna as he came to regard her passively. His grip on Urfael almost relaxing before he saw how she sat upon Ajunta Pall's coffin, using it as a chair and a rack to store her cloak. His eyes would blaze a deep, hateful amber as he all but spit the words at her "I SUGGEST you move." The Shaper did not await a response as he motioned with a hand and began to recite a spell not spoken in millenia. The torches gracing the walls flaring and turning to a deep, blood red in coloration. Fresh, crimson blood beginning to flow from the sconces as he snarled at Mikilanna. "I did not serve Ajunta Pall for decades, languish on Korriban for millenia, just to return and find some ignorant pest sitting on the resting place of one of my peers."

Stalking past Mikilanna the Shaper gave her time to move, but that was all, the ancient Sith was permeating with hateful energy as he extended his hand and exerted an expression of Sith magic, onto the floor surrounding Ajunta Pall's sarcophagus. Causing the ancient stone to slide and rumble, shift and descend, revealing a final sepulcher beneath the sarcophagus himself. He did not care if Mikilana saw this, nor did he care bother to hide what he was retrieving. There, hidden for untold eons, embedded in pristine condition, was the Sword of Ajunta Pall radiating Dark Side energy enough that even the Shaper took a respectful, awed breathe. Sheathing Urfael the Shaper took the hilt of the blade and pulled it seamlessly from the ancient stone it was embedded in and, climbing back out of the sepulcher, cast a glance to make sure Mikilana had in fact moved from her seat before he commented. "Assuming you do not SIT on his tomb, your devotion to my ancient lord would do him honor. Your faith is well placed."

With the Sword of Ajunta Pall in hand the Shaper then walked from the Valley of the Dark Lords to the Temple of Sacrifice, the Dark Side surging around him in a protective barrier from the harsh storm of Korriban, the rich, dark energies flooding from the blade bolstering his connection in the very same way his own blade did. Not an unwanted grain of sand touched the Shaper as he stood before the Temple of Sacrifice, calmly pulled the spear Acharn from his back and, with the Whilstone of power flaring brightly and bolstering his physical strength to inhuman levels, launched spear from the bottom to the very top of the Temple in a single throw. Only once the spear embedded itself did the Shaper nod and walk into the Temple of Sacrifice. For this, for what they had planned, the Shaper had enlisted the help of a Priestess of Typhojem, of whom Ajunta Pall was considered the physical embodiment of among the ancient Sith.

As the Shaper found First Sister he would show her the sword of Ajunta Pall and speak with frank authority. "Come, Athanasia. If you claim to serve Typhojem, then I offer you this chance to partake in a ritual with the use of his own blade, the one his physical embodiment wielded in life. It shall be the fulcrum of our efforts, the nexus of our power. It shall serve the Sith as it always has and, most importantly, it shall be the portent of the Jedi's doom for daring to step foot on Korriban."


Allies: Darth Carnifex Other Space Kaiden First Sister Ulrich Eldaah Aderyn Salamander

Enemies (Yet to be engaged): Oceiros Sunstrider Shaka Sunstar

 

[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

J U N G L E

We don’t sit back and hope for the best. We’ll make the best happen.
​

Total War it is.

Good.

He would usher the flames of this crusade to every Sith Temple, to every military installation that pledged fealty to the Sith Code. Sadly, he wasn’t one of the original defectors that turned their back on the Sith and returned with a defiance that would bring fear to the Dark Masters, making them acknowledge the power found in mortal men that could counter the Dark Side of the Force. How Djorn wished he could’ve dialed back a few months and march with Irveric towards the Braxant Run. Maybe it was destiny that made him wake up and finally abdicate from his position in the Sith Empire, maybe it was something else too foreign for him to understand that got him here today. But what happened, happened. All Djorn knew was that he wasn’t too late to do the right thing and wage war against the damnations of the Sith.

From the Braxant Run, to the Perlemian Trade Route he’d join in operations undermining the Sith. Instead of marching with his comrades of the Iron Sun, he’d fight alongside those of the Starbird after the armistice brokered between Irveric and the Supreme Chancellor on Yinchorr. He received immediate clearance from the Director of COMPNOR’s Coalition for Progress, his boss, in leading a company of his CompForce Combat Group and conjoin with the Alliance’s assault on Felcuia. Now, receiving any clearance from the Alliance would’ve been difficult for him as there wasn’t really a designated joint division created and oversaw by both the New Imperials and the Alliance, but he managed to pass those obstacles with the help from Loske. It amused him ever since Bespin they would somehow end up where they were with their shaky, tense relationship. She didn’t trust him fully, not after from the deceit she believed from him; but after Yinchorr, she owed him a favor. With her leverage, he was approved and would aid the Wolfpack under Maynard. A token of camaraderie in their war against the Sith.

But it wasn’t exactly refined as there was some tension between snakes and wolves. Not long ago did they have a brief schism on the surface of Yinchorr. There was banter between the different colors of armor, and a minor degree of disagreements at the start of the campaign. A campaign that lasted now a month into it, enough time to resolve any differences for the time being as everyone wanted to see this operation go through without a hitch. Djorn and his company of Vipers would operate as reconnaissance for the Wolfpack, taking point and always alerting the rest of any findings they made. Things got a bit more easier with the help of one of the locals they befriended with, becoming a guide and leading them through local routes that were secured to travel and use his networking between different villages to resupply. An important advantage to have when walking in the untamed jungles of Felucia.

Nightfall washed over the horizon of Felucia which activated the glowing lights emitted from the flora of the jungles. As beautiful as it was, it was also dangerous in some particular species of plants. That and the wild fauna that stalked these terrains. The one moment of glory they all shared was killing a Rancor that harassed their advancement, and was able to take photos posing in front of the beast. War memories to remember. Unironically, all the trauma of combat would make them remember all the nightmares they experienced. The price of war, but it was worth it for what they were fighting for.

He only worried about Loske. After that manslaughter on Yinchorr, he questioned the idea of her being in combat. A close encounter with an explosive could do the trick in triggering her again. But she was stubborn, the attitude of a soldier. The kind where one would get up for the tenth round after a beating from the ninth. Hopefully whatever meditation Jedi did was the trick in containing that short circuit of hers.

Tonight was the night for their attack on the capital to commence. They couldn’t spare for tomorrow. Now or never. They had the disguise of night on their side. Was the garrison and defenses ready? No doubt, but they were going all in. All bets were called and finalized.

Snake’s Vipers were placed strategically according to Maynard’s plan, waiting for the signal. Of course, Djorn and his personal squad, Cobra, would be one of the first ones to breach the city.

<“Outrider, this is Diamond Snake. Approaching the rear wall of the city, we’ll be scaling it soon and breaching the city, over.”>

Cutting off the comms transmission to the general as Snake and his squad subtly approached the wall, the night being on their side as it was the perfect conditions for infiltration and sabotage. First one’s in, but now who would stand last?

<“I marked two two tangos on the battlements; Cobra-one, Cobra-four, have the first blood of the night.”>

<“Copy, sir.”>

The two Vipers lined up their shots, both aiming for the head. Their blasters was outfitted with a sound suppressor and the tibanna gas was perfectly refined to make the bolt practically invisible to the naked eye. COMPNOR made sure to treat its finest with the best of the best. Both shots landed, killing the lookouts.

<“Tangos down.”>

<“Goodnight for them.”>

<“Sir, you think the bastards armed up the civilians?”>

<“It’s the Sith, corporal. All bets are off with them. Expect the unexpected with them, I wouldn’t be surprised if they nuked the hell out of us for desperate measures. Just remember: you draw the line wherever you need it to be, corporal. The same goes for the rest of you. Now let’s scale this wall and get to work. Ready your ascension cables, and mind the wall. There’s more S-IMPs walking about, so be quick.”>

The entire squad made it to the base of the wall, firing their cables at the height of the wall. Up they went, reaching for the top of the wall to sink their venom into the defenses they blindsided. It wouldn’t be for too long for their liking, however. Just enough to slightly tip the scales in their favor.


ALLIES | GA | NIO | Loske Treicolt | Maynard Treicolt | Seydou of Thyrsus | Aerarii Tithe
ENEMIES | TSE | Eldaah Aderyn

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: B O R N _ F O R _ T H I S //:
//: Team Vos //: Zaavik Perl //:
//: TSE //: Gnox the Insatiable //:
//: Infiltrate, Plunder, Destroy //:
//: Sith Academy //: Korriban //:

Allyson chuckled softly under her breath. The boy made jokes or what she interpreted as jokes. It lightened the mood, and she would miss him when he would enter the fray as a Jedi Knight - as a full fledged Jedi Shadow. Small memories played in her mind as she wondered if this was Jyoti's feeling when Allyson had decided to become a Jedi, become a Jedi Shadow, and succeed. As she pondered, a hand thumbed the small ornate durasteel dagger. The warmth of the light side flowed through her. ​

A soft laugh stifled as she looked at Zaavik. "A little bit of both. I don't know, it always feels good to blow something up, right?" Allyson quipped as she injected something into her arm. The boy was the source of most of her allergies. At least nowadays, she could get some sort of serum that kept her from sneezing and getting a bloody nose around him.​

Especially now. Allyson crushed the vial under her boot and pushed it into the soil. She could feel the adrenaline and the serum course through her veins, her sinuses cleared up, and she quickly caught a whiff of the boy beside her. Nearly gagging, the Corellian gave him a light shove and shook her head. "After this, you really need to shower - my force Zaavik." Allyson moved forward, she knew she probably didn't smell the best either, but at least she brought deodorant. As she moved away from him, the Master Shadow fell into the force camouflage quickly as if she was breathing. ​

There was a tickle in her psyche that made her stop. Tilting her head, she quickly recognized the attempt to meld into her mind. Allyson could feel the small hairs on her neck stand up, knowing that someone, even an ally trying to enter the mind, put the Corellian on the defensive. As quickly as the feeling came, she felt it disappear—a nod as she was impressed with the tinfoil hat she had purchased before heading to Korriban. ​

Her footsteps easily concealed as she moved closer and closer towards their entry point. As the days passed, Allyson would make her way towards the tunnel they had dug and saw no one from the Academy had sealed it off. It was either a good thing or a bad thing. The Sith could have set it up as a trap to catch the two shadows. Pondering, she knelt down beside it and did her best to use the Force to sense anything hiding in the tunnels. It was clear, and when Zaavik caught up, she would motion that it was clear. ​

Slipping into the small tunnel, she remained camouflaged and moved through it. The tunnel was part of the Academy's sewage structure; down here, there wasn't much of a reason for the Sith Guards or the Sith themselves to wander down. It was the perfect way for them to sneak in and sneak in. Reaching the small hole that they had dug out over the time they were camping, Allyson leaped upwards and crawled through the flooring of one of the bathrooms in the Academy. When the coast was clear, she dropped the camouflage and waited for the Padawan. ​

"Same as before, we're going to the security room, stay covered." Looking around, she slipped back into the Force once more. When they left the bathroom, Allyson crept along the hallway, already knowing the security room's direct path. When they arrived, the two guards blocking the entryway found themselves stuck with two tranquilizer arrows. They slumped, and Allyson dragged them inside the command room and dropped the invisibility she had. Nodding towards the computers, she nodded. Already she could tell that they had done some work in the room. It would have been a good idea to have placed cameras in the room to see what changes they had made, but with their quick escape last time, she could not do so. A hand cupped the Corellian's dust smudged face as she got a feel for the system. It would be much more challenging than before, but she didn't want to worry about the boy. This was his test, and he needed to show her that he could do this job - her job.​

"Okay, get to work. We gotta work quickly; the Sith probably upped the security, or we have an Emperor's hand hiding in here." Allyson mused over it as she looked around. She did half expect Vaylin to be hiding in the room. "Though with how big her butt is - I doubt she'd be able to hide very well in this tight room." Allyson moved about the security room and then poked her head out of the security room. Everything about getting here was too easy; she decided to stand guard by the door. "Hurry, Zaavik, we don't have a lot of time." ​

 

[Gnox the Insatiable]

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

"Th.. There!" The panicked voice of the security guard pulled Gnox from his own mind. He grumbled lightly as he looked to the camera pointed out. A security room whose guards were gone. With the news of war coming in, no soul would dare leave their post unattended. That was enough. The large Sith's body warped as he took on his War Form, turning to his more monstrous self as he left the two guards there to themselves. He paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder.

"You best hope you are not wrong."

Before they had a chance to respond he was gone. Inhuman speed had him tearing through the academy, leaping over those in his way and tearing into the walls to get around crowds. No one saw who exactly was barreling by, the blur too quick to pass. The lazy hunter had found his rodents, and he would shrug off his lax demeanor. Whomever was skilled enough to enter the Sith Academy was worthy prey.

He did not hide himself, for he could not. The all consuming hunger was a void in the Force, threatening to consume those unprepared for such a sensation. Usually he dimmed that down, to keep from accidentally devouring the wayward apprentice. Now, he would not hold back. He stopped just outside the room, the cruel looking flail forming in his hand. He could smell them now, the Jedi close by. Unwashed. Filthy.

Truly rodents.

"You've little to run, master Jedi. I have your scent." His warped voice called out. They would know his arrival. And, perhaps, the younger might be one he could unsettle. "But run, regardless. You will not escape the feast."

 

[First Sister]

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

Korriban was home.

Her training for the past two years at the Temple of Typhojem Chirikyât in the arts of the Kissai would culminate here, in supporting a ritual that would see to the expulsion of the Jedi and their attack dogs from sacred soil, which they dared to profane with their heretical magic. She would cast them out with all of her soul, rendering unto their spirits the immortal power of Bogan, even if it drove her towards her towards the brink of death.

However, she would not die.

Such was a fate reserved for the Jedi and for the weak, of which she was none of those things. She had proven her strength on Rychel, much to the surprise of her overseer, Venlana’ulak, who had left her for dead in the midst of a raging battlefield of Vong and their associated monstrosities. In spite of her diminutive frame, she had emerged victorious over one the foul creatures in personal combat, impaling the beast upon the horn on top of her forehead, though at the cost of a throbbing headache and concussion which had necessitated a long bath in healing fluid to aid her recovery.

And now, she was called upon to execute her duties as a chosen daughter of the Left-Handed God.

The Temple of Sacrifice was filled to the brim with Sith Sorcerers and Kissai as they set about the delicate work of preparing the ritual, setting runes, organizing grimoires, and fulfilling various other assignments in the moments leading up to the beginning of the ritual. Everyone had a part to play in the symphony of sorcery, and each was important, no matter how seemingly insignificant or rote. As a Loimus-Kissai, Athanasia was not yet a full-fledged Kissai priestess, but by virtue of her training, she was afforded more responsibility than that of a mere menial.

However, it still came as an extreme surprise to her to be approached by a Dark Lord as she was in the midst of her assigned tasks. There were many others in the temple who were far more qualified to be called upon for such sacred duties than herself, including her overseer, Venlana’ulak. Nevertheless, the priestess was not caught unawares, immediately prostrating herself before the towering figure as he spoke his demands. The Dark Lord’s voice boomed through the walls of the temple, but even that was not the strongest sensation in the room, as the strength of the dark aura radiating off of the sacred object in the man’s hands was enough to overwhelm even her, especially given her lack of viable connection to the Force.

The sword of Ajunta Pall.

The mark on her bosom burned with the energy of the dark side, singeing her soft skin to such an agonizing extent that tears began to well from her eyes, which were fortunately hidden from view the Dark Lord’s view beneath the hood of her robes. Nevertheless, the searing pain came as a blessing, driving her focus to tap into the dark emotions that gave her purpose.

Fear.

Hatred.

Love.

It was love for her family, for her empire, and for Typhojem. While her training had left her with precious little time to see her parents, in becoming a Kissai she had discovered a sacred calling in serving the Left-Handed God, the same God that her parents had embraced during their enslavement, a God of passion, strength, power, and freedom.

She was the torchbearer of their faith.

“I will not fail him, my Lord.” The diminutive Qilin answered, her voice shaking with anxiety and purpose as the words left her lips.

“Ashaottoi.”

Spoiler: Gear and Equipment

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

 

[The Amalgam]

Wearing: Resistance Epidermis

Armed with: First Degree Burn

Skin Shears (Purple Split-Saber)

Objective: Murder the feth out of Jedi

007 hours earlier

Golbah City, Geonosis


Maple Harte , fresh from cashing in another small time bounty, found The Amalgam waiting outside her black chromium, J-Type 327 Nubian The Silent Erika on a docking pad in the heart of Golbah, smiling in that flesh colored skintight catsuit with long white gloves and boots.

("Love Is Thicker Than Water" by Andy Gibb Plays)

Maple pulled out her pistol and pointed it at the murderous SithSpawn who was also her former mentor. Maple's sulphur gold right eye twitched, her black biker leathers scuffed and showing signs of wear and tear. Her long, chocolate brown hair was tied in a loose ponytail.

"Nice to see you too, Daughter!" The Amalgam gushed. "I've missed you so, so much since Kar Shian--"

Maple's hand was on a grinning Amalgam's throat, pistol jammed against her skull.

"Daughter, must I remind you of the stakes against The Bryn'adul? Of the fact we all have to Unite to survive? Of the consequences of you blowing away a member of the Saaraishash on official business while our two governments play kissy-face?"

Maple snarled in frustration and hatred, releasing her grip.

"What official business?" Maple snapped, well aware of how low-rung she was in The CIS.

"Oh, nothing really, I just had to contrive an excuse to go into temporarily allied territory and recruit for the defense of Korriban."

"Just because I'm CIS doesn't mean I have to help save Korriban." Maple replied coldly, not taking the aim of her pistol from the Amalgam's head.

"Actually...I specifically requested a member of the Knights Obsidian and put forward your credentials. Think of all the good standing you'll have in The CIS! They'll actually notice you. Anyway they were very prompt in getting back to me and were positively enthusiastic--"

The Amalgam was quicker on the draw than Maple was using the laser bolts from her own pistol to successfully deflect the bolts from Maple's.

"Now now, we have to set a good example for our governments. Think about it, more influence means more resources to murder me later!"

Maple looked at her former mentor/ Arch Enemy with undisguised loathing...

...and holstered her blaster.

The Amalgam pranced to her, circling her and wrapping her arms around her...

"Ohhhhh, we're gonna have such fun!"

"I hate you." was all Maple said as she walked across the docking pad to the ramp of her ship, pulling out of The Amalgam's grasp. The Amalgam skipped behind her onto the glossy black ship.

Fifteen minutes later...

Maple piloted The Nubian Yacht, knowing its every control and how much it could take. It had been her home for so long that she wasn't truly comfortable anywhere else.

The Amalgam kicked back in the Co-Pilot's seat, using the beautiful, purple skinned Twi'lek form she had used while pretending to be a Jedi. The same face she had used as Maple's Jedi Master. The face Maple knew the most.

The whole place felt perverted by her presence as she piloted, not daring to glance The SithSpawn's way until she spoke.

"Y'know, when I was trapped inside Ursula, unable to escape, I lacked the strength to do anything but look through her eyes..." The Amalgam trailed, making it more traumatic for her former student to listen to by using Ursula's stern but ultimately fair and gentle school teacher voice. Maple's grips on the controls tightened until her knuckles were white.

"I became aware of Laertia really when I saw her kill for the first time. Oh, it was glorious Uri. My heart went into my throat, just swelling with pride when she decapitated someone. But even as...marvelous as she was, even as much as I struggled to murder Ursula's mind on the spot to talk to her, test her...I couldn't...and for a time...I was barely even aware of you...I was so weak I had almost decided to give up...and then, you turned up with this beautiful ship, won in combat...you were the motivator Uri. You're what gave me strength--"

"If I had known what you were..." Maple growled, fighting back tears. "I would have blown your fething psychotic head off the instant I first saw you in that chapter house all those years ago."

"If I recall correctly you didn't have a ranged weapon." The Amalgam noted, grinning with Ursula's face, knowing it hurt Maple more than anything to see that psychotic smile plastered on the face of someone she had once loved as a mother and trusted before feelings grew bitter.

"I'd have used yours." Maple replied with an epic looking death glare.

The smile left The Amalgam's face for a split second, then resumed as she rose up, circling Maple's chair, then wrapping her arms around around her. Unlike Laertia, Maple didn't flinch.

"Why can't you just admit..." the beast hissed, pressing the side of her face to Maple's, causing the schizophrenia-ridden Bounty Hunter to shrivel up in disgust on the inside, but refusing to give the psychopath the satisfaction of visibly showing it.

"...that we are the same?" The Amalgam asked with Ursula's voice after politely waiting for the previous narrative exploration of Maple's inner conflict to conclude.

"There's a useful four letter word..." Maple hissed back, staring only at the blue hyperspace tunnel as her insanity caused her to make an OOC reference. "And you're full of it."

"Oooo, a Roger Moore reference in 2020. You saucy little girl..." The Amalgam joked back, her own form of insanity keeping up as she stroked Maple's hair lovingly, making the Hunter want to vomit.

"I prefer Dalton and Craig references, personally..." The Amalgam mocked, fingers sliding through Maple's hair.

"The Brosnan Films had Jean Grey and Storm as Bond Girls, the former of whom you are a partial expy of. Go feth yourself." Maple snapped.

"Spectre had Persephone." The Amalgam shot back, not releasing her grasp.

"True. But Brosnan got to catch the plane and drop Sean Bean from the top of the relay dish. I've already done the former..." Maple trailed menacingly.

The Amalgam took her arms off Maple, retaking her preferred human appearance.

"I'm not scared, Daughter...we'll make a Xenia out of you yet..." The Amalgam trailed, starting to leave the cockpit.

Maple shot out of her seat, and her next words made The Amalgam go still.

"I don't know what it was that made you so murderous towards the entire Galaxy..." Maple said quietly, not hiding her tears of shame at part of her still loving the monstrosity in front of her. "But you don't have to stay that way. Your life is empty. Hollow. Can't you let go of your hate and malice? Is it really that precious to you to fill every moment of your life with what ultimately amounts to little more than petty bullying?"

The Amalgam turned a bemused expression to her former student.

"Is this the big dramatic scene where you try to turn me?" The Shi'ido asked slinking up to her.

"I have to say I tried."

"Do or Do not: There is no try." The Amalgam said, circling her student., the Darth Phyre within observing Maple with growing interest.

"I can't change what you've done. All I am saying is you don't have to keep being what you are..." Maple pleaded.

"You tried to stay out of the game, Uri. How'd that work out for you?" The Amalgam asked, fingers brushing the back of Maple's head lightly.

"I'm a work in progress. Why can't you be?" Maple asked. "You nearly got out once yourself..."

"No one really leaves the business. Not even Luke, depending on which version of his life you believe. If anything, I'm the one trying to save you." The Amalgam countered with a devilish grin. "Saving you from a life of being a slave to society. Saving you from a life of wasting your potential in the Force. You have already tasted the Bogan's power. All those Sith I had you kill? Pretext. Justification for pushing the limits of two very powerful Force Adepts. That's what the foolish Jedi never understood: It does not matter if you are Light or Dark, you are still killing those you disagree with ultimately so you can be the only person in the room talking. And they wonder why they create so many people who want to tell the Light to go feth itself. They wonder why they are absolutely trapped in this nightmare feud that never ends. If they ever understand all they have to do is stop trying to control what every Force Adept does with their power, than even with their philosophy being so highly questionable, almost sixty percent of their capacity for generating the proper resentment needed for someone to recreate The Sith Lords would disappear virtually overnight. I could never live in a world run by them, and neither could you, if you joining a government run by Darth Metus was any indicator." The Amalgam hissed, standing behind Maple and smelling her hair, and this act 'did' finally cause Maple to flinch, though she remained still otherwise.

"You want the Darkness. The Bloodshed. You can't function in a world where 'they' are calling the shots, any more than I could. What use would they have for you, my beautiful chocolate haired Daughter? They'd have you running around popping common Dark Jedi, at best, if they didn't instantly fear you for your capacity at creating a mountain of corpses in a shockingly low amount of time. They'd forbid you from using a blaster at all except for emergencies more than likely. I know how your face lights up when you kill people with a shotgun. I couldn't imagine you never taking a Mandalorian Assault Rifle out for a little target practice ever again...could you? They'd consider endorsing Ritual Disfigurement if someone could dress it up enough to play on their desire to remain humble."

"I'm not saying you have to be a Jedi. I'm not even saying you are entirely wrong about many of the things you say about them. All I am saying is that you don't have to be a Sith. You don't have to spend the rest of your existence as a rotting mass of filth hiding behind Scarjo looks. You've disappeared before. Why not just drop everything, disappear for good? Reappear somewhere else? As someone else?"

"Like you? Living on the fringes? Taking the slings and arrows fate chooses to direct to you as you drift between planets on this cozy, glossy life raft." She cooed, putting an arm lazily around Maple's neck that could easily become a choke hold as she petted Maple's scalp

"Yes. Like me. With you as company."

The Darth Phyre persona hiding in The Amalgam was nearly murdered in that instant. It barely retained enough strength to resist being annihilated by the remains of the rotting mind it had subverted.

The Amalgam petted Maple's scalp lazily.

"Alan Moore had a funny story about situations like ours once." The Amalgam remarked idly.

"Save the DC references for Laertia, she nabs those a lot." Maple idly remarked back, tears streaming down her face.

"Oh my, tell me about it, she already aped Mr. Freeze during that last invasion thread right before this new storyline started." The Amalgam scoffed.

"It was that Everything Freezes line, wasn't it?" Maple asked out of sheer curiosity.

"Deliciously hammy on her part. They really don't give Arnold enough credit for that one." The Amalgam surmised. "But I wouldn't be caught dead in that sparkly white Riddler suit they put Carrey in."

"I dunno, I like sequins..." Maple trailed bitterly, keeping up the verbal game for reasons even she wasn't certain of.

"Heathen..." the Amalgam sneered, though this hateful snarl did not stop her from petting Maple's scalp.

"You can still walk away from this life..." Maple trailed, getting back on track.

"Two loonies in a glossy padded cell trading barbs. Hmmmm..." the Amalgam hummed in thought, arm tightening slightly around Maple's neck as she continued walking her fingertips through the scalp of her former student.

"Would we really be cellmates though? Or simply each others prisoner?" The SithSpawn hissed quietly into her 'Daughter's' ear. "Could we ever truly turn our back on each other? Even in such a confined and tranquil space, the minds inside me yearning to get out and inflict pain every second? No, my Daughter. It might be a nice fairy tale for a while, two diseased people caring for each other, adrift in a glittering shard of black between the stars...but our diseases would still win in the end. And you know that. You could never truly forgive all my crimes because of your honor, and I could never truly be sorry for committing them in the first place, as long as the end result was you at my side at the end, or dear Laertia, or both of you. No, Uri. I love my daughters too much to not make them beautiful with the Darkness, and you love me too much not to grant what you would view as a mercy killing. The 'only' future where we can both be truly happy is the one where you turn to the Darkness."

"And if I refuse?" Maple asked.

Now it became a chokehold. Maple felt her airway compress, threatening to cut off her oxygen completely.

"You won't refuse..." The Amalgam sneered, Maple on the verge of blacking out completely. "I won't let you."

The SithSpawn released her grip, Maple coughing, dropping to her knees as she struggled to catch her breath, messaging her throat.

"Is that your final answer?" Maple asked, voice hoarse from being deprived of air.

"Yes. I love you for trying, though..." The Amalgam said in Ursula's school teacher voice. "It was sweet of you."

Maple looked up at her former master, one eye sulphur, the other a brilliant wet green.

"I want you to remember this moment..." Maple said firmly, giving her a death glare that might have possibly given Darth Carnifex himself at least a millisecond's pause before playing skip rope with her intestines anyway.

That said, The Amalgam had never personally seen a death glare that intense, and grew quiet as it was fixed on her, the homicidal smile leaving her face entirely.

"I want you to remember this moment, Amy. Because I certainly will..." Maple spat. "I want you to remember I gave you every chance to avoid being my Sean Bean! Every chance to avoid turning me into your Pierce Brosnan! Because at the end of all this? I'm gonna drop your ass. And it won't be for everyone you've murdered. It 'will' be for me."

Maple dusted herself off and headed to the cockpit.

"Uri!"

Maple turned around.

Her smile, the dead purple glint in her eyes told Maple The Amalgam was as evil as ever.

But the tone still threw her off.

"I won't apologize for what I am..." The SithSpawn said, dropping the smile for a moment, even the Darth Phyre persona within affected in a way it didn't understand. "But no one has ever tried to save me from anything before. Certainly not myself. For what its worth...I thank you for the failed attempt."

Maple's expression remained deadpan, and her next words drove all expression from The Amalgam's face and earned only silence.

"Y'know..." Maple mused outloud, stare piercing suddenly. "Its very interesting that with as much strength as you say your False Self was losing...its still strange you would permit her to tell me to kill you..."

Maple headed for the cockpit, a crazy, Gary Busey-grade grin on her face at having finally gotten under The Amalgam's skin...


Present.

They had touched down before the attack came, setting up in the Korriban Academy where others were rushing to arms to meet the attack.

"An attack right on Korriban?" Maple muttered in surprise at the NJO's stupidity as she loaded up a Sith Assault Carbine with an underslung launcher. "The NJO is insane. They don't care about the Bryn'adul at all..."

"Love and Hate are two sides of the same coin. One can blend and mix surprisingly well and Vice Versa..." The Sith Spawn said as she loaded up weapons of her own, such as a Mandalorian Assault Rifle in one of the academy armories, handing her academy schematics. Maple studied and memorized them before tossing them aside, clad in her black and white hooded armor.

"The tunnels...they'll try and use them, hit a security office..." Maple said. "Its what I'd do if I wanted to hit this place."

"That's why you're off to look for a team that should be either about to breach this place from underneath or has already breached it." The Amalgam confirmed. "Expect Shadows. You don't have any objections to popping Jedi, do you?"

Maple cocked a short barrel pump action shotgun.

"If it spares them from whatever horrors await their capture at the hands of the Sith? I'll pop them like a damn balloon out of sheer mercy." Maple hissed in contempt.

"That's my girl..." The Amalgam cooed. "Slippery Slope justifications are my favorite justifications..."

Maple snorted before leaving the armory.

The SithSpawn danced out of the armory to go look for a Jedi to kill, popping a Jedi that had managed to get past the front entrance and great arches, letting out a controlled spray of fire that killed three others before a Jedi got too close. She unleashed her dark, rotting aura upon the Force, drawing on the power of the Academy. Her flesh shuddered disgustingly as she channeled the Dark Side through it, her purple blades springing to life as she savagely spun and slashed through the Jedi's pathetic Soresu defense in seconds, before grabbing him, watching as he rotted in her grip, before dismembering his mummified remains, and summoning purple lightning from the sky that blasted apart two more Jedi, sending the destructive blast downrange as much as possible as she drew her laser pistol, her deadly fast and precise trigger pulls finding their way through a mutual Niman defense, blasting through both heads.

The monster whose flesh shuddered smirked with bubbling lips as she rushed forward, slicing through more soldiers and looking for more Jedi to slaughter...

(Open now for fighting, Dhalinar Greystar ...and anyone else!)

Meanwhile...

Maple had hacked a terminal to get an idea of the systems, running a systematic check on every section dealing with security.

Only one had yet to make periodic check in with the others...and it happened she was very close to it.

Maple activated her cloak system, hiding her thoughts as she made her way to it.

Sure enough, two guards were down, and two Jedi were trying to control it.

Maple hid her feelings and emotions, thinking about anything else other than what she was doing as she pointed the shotgun at the head of Allyson Locke and pulled the trigger, releasing flechette shards aimed at her face. She might dodge because she was at a distance, and Maple wasn't stupid enough to get close without trying the simple, efficient method first.

She fired rapidly, prepared to draw her trusty staff if they got too close...

Ryv

Coren Starchaser

Auteme

Asmundr Varobalder

Oceiros Sunstrider

Adron Malvern

Other Space Kaiden

Salamander

Zaavik Perl

Gnox the Insatiable


OOC: I tried to remember as many as I could. Sorry if I missed anyone!

 

[Takui]

View attachment 415
View attachment 416


NEW JEDI ORDER


OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY | POST I


EQUIPMENT: Blaster Rifle | Armor


SOMEWHERE NEAR THE VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS

View attachment 417
​

Korriban, the ancestral homeworld of the Sith. For Taku, it was light seeing the blighted side of Galactic History for the first time. One could hear about the horrors of the Dark Side, read about them, or even see its victims and never fully comprehend the scope of its depravity. Normal men rejected evil when they heard about it because of their delicate constitutions, or because they had a shred of conscience. Taku could feel it. For all the training, all of the learning he had done, the learner was still utterly underprepared for the ugliness that festered under the sands here.

He was in reality at the very bare minimum for a soldier. Armored and armed, but not with the weaponry of a Jedi. He held no lightsaber. The Force was just outside his realm of control, though he could feel it now. The difference between Takui Mihzu now and the boy who had arrived wet behind the ears on Kashyyyk was resolve. Even if he was not the hero, or even relevant- every cog in the machine contributed to its movement. In order to oppose the darkness, every able bodied man had to do his part.

You said to me, "become a Jedi."

Taku stared out of the dropship over the shoulder of his riding partner, down into the heart of the Conflict. Darkness was stronger in this place than anywhere else he had ever been. It was so saturated with malign energies that he did not even have to reach out for his body to fiercely reject the sensations that attempted to tear through him. He was trembling, but for the first time, it was not fear that ruled him. He had been given a task. Taku was going to fight.

A Jedi is someone who does the right thing. That's what they told me.

Taku reached back checked the blaster rifle slung there in the seconds before launch. He knew how to use it. It was the singular thing that would keep him alive when all else failed. He leaned forward into the senior Padawan's back as he revved the speeder bike's engine. It was annoying that he had to ride queen, but between the two of them, he was the better shot. A lightsaber wasn't nearly as effective on the move.

Fighting the darkness is the right thing. That's the one thing in my life I've never been more certain of, mom.

LET'S GO!

He didn't have time to take a deep breath, or to relax himself. If he wanted to be calm, he wouldn't be on Korriban. Hundreds of thousands of innocent men and women had already lost their lives to this menace. People who would never know a peaceful night's sleep again cried out for justice from beyond the grave. Taku would never again complain about losing his life of luxury. There were children who would never get the chance to grow up.

The world beneath them grew ever closer, and breathless, Taku could feel the adrenaline rushing through him. Air whipped past him as he dug his heels into the speeder for balance. He raised his voice, screaming to compete with the roar of the engine and the wild winds whipping across their faces. "Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!"

He reached back and peeled his rifle free, then started getting a feel for their pace. It would take him a minute to adjust for drift and other factors, but he was confident that he could lay down some serious suppressing fire from this vantage point.

Driver: Kenth Ordo​

 

[Karn Syndulla]

Aramis Sunstrider Kenth Ordo Takui Hal Vaiken
Location: Valley of the Dark Lords
Enemies: Dimitri Voltura Lavria Xedrim Darth Strosius
Equipment: Orange Lightsaber, Jedi Robes

​

Despite newly making the rank of Knight, There were times like these that Karn felt like a Padawan, if it wasn't for these desperate times he often felt like now he would be back being a Padawan, buried in his books. Karn was a nervous wreck. Wearing nothing but golden robes. All the while, many of his companions were wearing armor pieces as if they were the Jedi Generals in the Clone Wars, or even far to the age of the Old Republic. He tried not to be overwhelmed with such crippling anxiety. Even as the boys that he was with were whooping and hollering as the Speeder started to descend towards it's destination.

The speeder moving at high speeds. The sweat from the stress even going down his gold jewelry on his head. The hot sands of the tomb world reminded him of Ryloth, yet here all he could feel was the dark energy of the Sith World, the whispers of dark spirits promising him power. Yet all the same even the new Knight knew that such promises of power were in vain. He knew better, in fact, anyone knew better than to listen to promises by the Sith. Like the spirits of those that followed such promises.

Now he was riding in the back of the speeder. While excited to be around such a place that held an imaginable wealth of knowledge. The architecture that he gazed upon, the ruined statues, the hallowed tombs that gave out an eerie feeling was filled with immense historical value. While he knew that this was not the Jedi's first visit to Korriban. In a way, this was to send a message to the Sith. To show that the Alliance would strike back, to end the Sith menace at least for a time. What he did know was that he hoped not to damage much of the thousands of years of history in this dark world. Not to mention the fact that while excited as he was. He was fearful of his first taste of combat. Of his first mission as a Knight.

He barely wielded his saber. It almost seemed as if it was for show then it was for combat. Now here he was apart of Team Rhysode, riding through the surrounding sands and tombs. Now here he was a fish out of water. Wearing robes instead of armor. His hands trembling at the very thought of combat nervously flooding through his mind. Now while he tried not to scream in a panic. Not at the fear, but due to the fact they held explosives. Supposedly the team was sent as a diversion of sorts. Even the briefing he had to admit was hazy to him.

He recited the words to himself. "There is no emotion, there is peace." He said in an attempt to control his fear. Trying to hold on for dear life, his eyes shut tightly. A hand gripped on his saber, and on the edge of the speeder. As if it somehow brought comfort to the scholarly, shut-in Twi'lek. Even now while they rode with explosives and one of the Padawan's seemed hyper by the excitement. Only Karn could think about was he hoped by Force the explosives wouldn't go off and kill them all.

 

[Kenth Ordo]

S A B O T A G E
NEW JEDI ORDER
OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY | POST II
EQUIPMENT: LIGHTSABER | BATTLE ARMOUR | THERMAL DETONATORS
74-Z SPEEDER BIKE
SOMEWHERE NEAR THE VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS

So it turned out that screaming on a speeder bike while flying into a sandstorm was a really bad idea, Kenth learned that the hard way after he got a mouth full of sand that he had to try to spit out all the while trying to keep the speeder at an angle so that they didn't get shredded by the wind.

They hit the ground a little too hard for comfort, the bottom of the speeder bike coming dangerously close to the jagged rocks of Korriban.

Adjusting his goggles, Kenth steered them through spiky outcroppings and into the Valley of the Dark Lords proper, leaving one hand on the controls while the other moved to open his satchel of special surprises.

"Aim for the fethers with the shiniest armour," Kenth said, remembering he had an accomplished sniper sitting behind him on the speeder bike. Grabbing a handful of thermal detonators, he called upon the Force to activate their switches as he threw them at their intended targets.

A landing pad with an idle shuttle on it? A thermal detonator was thrown up the landing ramp. A squad of Sith-Imperial troopers on patrol? A thermal detonator was thrown at their feet.

Of course, he was intended to be a distraction, therefore he started throwing thermal detonators at anything that looked even remotely important just to stir up a fuss. Explosions were reverberating throughout the area, Kenth putting the pedal to the metal as he raced towards the Sith Academy, throwing grenades at the entrances of tombs to cause cave-ins.

Dropping one of his feet towards the ground, the speeder bike did a sharp turn so that he could continue his circuit of the Valley and cause even more mayhem along the way.

Takui | Hal Vaiken | Karn Syndulla | Dimitri Voltura | Lavria Xedrim | Darth Strosius ​

 

[AMCO]

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

In life, Avernus had been eccentric at best, utterly insane at worst. A stint in Chaos had not done him any favours.

Raising an eyebrow at his mercurial form and the implications it carried, Adrian waited for the man to finish before letting the ghost of a smile grace his lips. "Avernus, long time no see. Must be embarrassing perishing to a more or less untrained apprentice..."

Glancing behind the flamboyant spectre, he confirmed that his little portal had, in fact, been sealed shut. Forming another would be a simple matter, giving the swirling tides of power... but that spell should not have gone wrong, not like this, not for him.

There was power in the air, but it was wily, almost... hostile. To him, not just the Jedi trespassers. Troubling.

"Had I expected your arrival, there would certainly have been more gold. Ghost compatible snacks, maybe. Perhaps a few strippers." Smile turning glacial, his voice remained polite enough. "Alas, I am quite busy. Rampaging Jedi and all that. I don't suppose you'd like to wait in the corner?"

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Return of the Jedi
​

Galactic Alliance 3rd Sector Fleet "Battlegroup Kenobi"
222nd Nova Corps. - 81st Legion - Battalion 'Bloodfin'
Aboard the Startide-Class Star Defender 'Ouroboros'

Private Barric Raze had never seen a vessel the size of the Startide before he was dropped off at Annaxes. From the holos he'd seen at briefings he knew it was huge but even now as he made his way to his combat lander he was amazed at how large the vessels were. Its gargantuan hangars were large enough for the hulking mobile fortress landers pulled out for assaults like this and even had racks that carried whole frigates. FRIGATES. The largest vessel he'd ever served on had been a patrol corvette and one of those sat just beneath him on the deck of the hangar.

"C'mon Private," prompted his Corporal, "We're dropping in less than five minutes and I'll be damned if we miss this flight."

"R-Right sir." Barric was green. A 'Shiny' as the boys had taken to calling him. Never seen real combat, only served on patrol ships and as token militia on his homeworld. He shifted the large weapon strapped to him and stepped up the ramp. He was humping the RCG, a Reaper, and that meant extra packs, a spare barrel, and the mounting, though he doubted they'd need that. He hated it.

He plopped down next to Swiss. His orange stripes were faded with some parts even scrapped off leaving behind the white betaplast pockmarked with scratches and chips left behind from shrapnel. He had a long scar that went from under his earlobe to down under his bodyglove at the neck. Supposedly it went all the way down to his hip. Barric didn't know what the hell could do that to a man and he didn't much feel like finding out.

Swiss caught him staring and nodded before putting his helmet on. He looked at Barric in his shiny new armor and sniffed. Barric could see himself so clearly in that black visor. He could see deep into his own brown eyes, a fear that he hadn't yet stamped out. He'd heard the stories of Felucia. Fungus that could kill you and take your mind and body in a matter of hours, giant acklays with jaws that could crunch through betaplast like a crisp, rancors...Felucia was no place for a war. Yet here he was, about to fly to his inevitable death.

The lights shut off as the ramp slid closed with a hiss. He heard his Corporal, his Fire Team leader walking along the durasteel floor as he checked in with soldiers. He passed him right up. As the red combat lights flared to life he felt a lurching sensation as the transport left the safety of the Ouroboros. Swiss was still staring at him. He made a fist and tapped Barric's chest plate with more force than was probably necessary for the gesture, by the Force he was strong, and spoke. Not a word, but three letters the men and women of the battle-hardened 222nd had become infamous for, and instantly his anxieties melted away.

"KTF."

Kill Them First.

​

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

Many admirals of Dracken's position build their reputation and careers off of mysticism. They are often touted as naval geniuses or born of high standing, often employing some quirk that they aspire to their string of combat and political victories that only add to their legend. Some managed their battles as if they were the conductor of an orchestra, others studied the art of their opponents adhering to the wisdom of ancient generals, and some were simply cruel beyond compare. Dracken didn't find he very much fit the typical image of an admiral of his standing. No. He was no genius, he had no quirks, and he hoped to the Force that nobody would take his battle strategies and ask him to compile them into a book for naval doctrine to enshrine for the ages. No, Dracken Pryce's career had been built on defeat, built on mistakes, and he was reminded of them every day.

High Admiral Dracken Pryce leaned forward in his command chair, his left hand gripping the armrest console so hard his knuckles turned white. In his right, he held a ruined datachip strung up with his dogtags. The chip had been melted and cracked. He didn't know how, but GA salvage teams had found it in the wreckage of the Starchild II, all that remained of his old friend Garvey, the enigmatic droid brain of the vessel that had served him since the CIS invasion of Kuat. It was his good luck charm, for without that bot he wouldn't have made it out of that battle over Borosk.

The fleet was in position. Sith defenses lay directly ahead of them, they'd replaced lost vessels from previous skirmishes over the planet. This was to be the final nail in the coffin for the Sith fleet over Felucia though and soon a crucial point of the Parlemian Trade Route would be theirs, if they could keep it for long.

"Commence the attack," he said and ceasing his nervous fiddling.

​

Galactic Alliance 3rd Sector Fleet "Battlegroup Kenobi"
Flagship 'Ouroboros'
Hangar Deck 3: Nimbus-Class Corvette Kakarot
Operation Starhold

Captain Morgan Disayakes loved the moments before a battle. He loved the little bits of conversation you heard, often nonsensical, serious, and disheartening all at the same time.

"Where are those power couplings?"

"We need a G5 unit to hangar deck 6!"

"Has anyone seen my shawda? I swear I left it near the engine fluid..."

Really? Shawda? At this hour before battle? Ah well, you couldn't account for bad taste in sandwiches. Captain Morgan walked up the ramp to his corvette, the Kakarot. That's right, she was his and couldn't nobody take that way from him. Sometimes he fantasized about taking her and her crew out, going AWOL and living the life of a privateer out on the 'Rim. Force knew he could make a killing out there right now with the Outer Rim Coalition finally collapsing and chaos reigning free again. Couldn't no one tame that land. He didn't know why people even tried.

"All systems green Captain," came a familiar feminine voice as he entered the bridge, though it was more of a cockpit on a vessel this small. He nodded to the wonderfully beautiful Jasuna, his Devaronian co-pilot. How they let women as fine as her in the military was beyond him. They were too distracting too-

"Captain Morgan Disayakes," chimed the ship's com. Morgan sucked his teeth and depressed the blinking com light.

"This is Captain Disayakes of the Kakarot."

"Orders from the squadron leader, we're on eyeball duty today. Don't do anything fancy and get yourself killed." Screening? He could do that. Blasting eyeballs out of the sky always made Rock a happy Tro'zet. He could hear the raucous laughter now as the big dumb hulk of a man handled the turrets and slagged Sith TIEs one after another.

"Understood. Initiating launch." Jasuna's hands flew over the console, engaging the repulsors and then the ion enginees, pushing it out of the hangar of the massive dreadnought and into the stars.

Tags:
Allies: Teica Giraan Olen Halcorr Constantine Oliva Daz Farlander
Enemies: Sith???

TL;DR

Spoiler

Some newbie is scared. Gets pumped up. Dracken Pryce plays with a datachip nervously and says its pew pew time. A cocky corvette captain judges you for eating a crappy sandwich right before a battle and launces to shoot TIEs.

 

[Bayaz]

​

222nd Nova Corps - 521st Legion - Twilight Company
Felucia - Operation Deluge
Allies: Zanvic "Ironhide" Dak
Enemies: Ashelia Solidor
Armor - Aesthetic
Carbine
Sidearm


It had been a long trek through the jungle to get to the water treatment plant. Longer than he'd initially thought when he heard they were dropping assault cruisers full of marines on the planet for this final assault. But of course, that had been reserved for the city, small as it was. Operation Deluge got the unlucky task of marching through the jungle from an LZ point not too far from the water plant. The lumbering AT-TE groaned as it plowed over the thick vegetation. He watched from the command bridge as its viewport was caked with yellow pollen from the massive flower-tree they'd just stomped over. Thank the Force for REC engineering. He'd heard that most of these pollens and fungi were toxic and got through most air scrubbers. Truth be told, even with REC's great helmets, they were replacing the buckets way too fast to maintain a presence on the ground which was why they'd been dropped from the fleet directly.

"We are approaching the target zone, marines disembark and proceed on foot." Great. The easy part was over.

As soon as he stepped off the ramp of the temperature-controlled AT-TE he felt himself start to sweat. His armor's internal temperature controls were already spinning near max to keep him cool. He cursed as an insect, easily the size of his fist, buzzed past his visor, the sound filling his eardrums.

"Kark this place," he muttered. One of his men was already covered in a thick layer of green pollen. "Barv, are you glowing?" Marcus asked. He was indeed. The trooper covered in bright green pollen was indeed glowing.

"Get it off me!" This was new. It seemed every time they landed on the ground this past month the planet had something new to throw at them.

"You can wash it off at the plant," Marcus joked, "Now get in line let's move." His squad formed up behind him and they began walking beneath the walker, using it as cover for potential ambushes. Less than an hour passed and the plant came into view. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades but reports said it had only been a few weeks. Unfortunately, the Sith had beat them to it. And they were ready.

As soon as the AT-TE came from the brush a rocket slammed into its armor.

"KTF Twilight!" They charged. Blasterfire rang out through the jungle. They had high ground though and apparently fortifications. Marcus dove as an E-WEB blasted apart the ground, sending chunks of soil and mud into his visor. His breath quickened. The facility was massive and covered in vines and foliage. He could see why the Sith had abandoned it. It was just too large to maintain in a siege. He saw a few red lightsabers ignite and he cursed. Of COURSE they would have Sith here.

"Just my karking luck," he muttered through gritted teeth and stood from his prone position and pulled the trigger on his particle blaster.

 

[Thirdas Heavenshield]

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.