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

[Jannik Morlandt]

TIMESTREAM'S TEMPEST | CHAOS, YET HARMONY
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | STRIKE TEAM SHAN
MEMORY
​

The transit had been spent much the same as the dark-skinned Valkyri, but such immersion was old hat, be it reaching the minds, or in the ebbs and flows of the past, future, and the Force; regardless of which bleeding edge of that all-encompassing metaphysical thing the soul of Hákon attended to at the innumerable standposts of time that marked the eons of his existence, the sands ever shifted, parting at his reach. The futures were many, the edge of reality a mirage, an eternal fact. These held an anchor in his mind, unending.

If it had been years since he walked amongst the Jedi, until recent, it had been longer since he set foot on the field of war in the physical sense, for though his particular ilk were few in number and not often given to being in the midst of this unsavoury facet of existence, other knowledge lent him to being of use. The beating heart of the Sith itself they sought to grasp, his long watch intertwined with this; as ever, as always, should she appear, the dark side of his flesh... pellets of the storm whipped at what flesh of his own was exposed, as they made egress from the dropship, to become the eye of the light in the darkness that whirled about them, pressed into them - a thing nothing short of familiar, with no less sting for that. The appearance of a shield pulled visceral thankfulness to his expression, erasing the temptation he held to spend power on it himself, the dregs of focus taken by the onslaught rejoined to the brunt of it all.

For his part in the meld, the boost in power, reach, and effect a default, his presence afforded a mental protection only paralleled by those impervious to intrusion by nature, and the benefit of a seer's skill: exacting clarity on the immediate future. Second to second, minute to minute. He breathed out, long and slow, power unfolding in the midst of chaos.

"Fear not what you cannot control, lad," he directed at the young padawan in their retinue, "have faith in your training," he nudged the boy with the spirit of valor, "trust your instincts."

Far from empty words, the effects of the meld meant to boost these very things. At that age, he himself had been afraid of the visions.

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

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

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

Tithe observed the comm relay station from a distance. A land speeder pulled up and deposited a quartette of Sith-Imperials in front of the main entrance before departing. Unfortunately, he couldn’t get a good look at them amid the rubble which littered the street and the smoke from fires still not extinguished from the last attack. Not that it matters - the ordinary coming and goings of officers to the relay station were exactly what he was counting on.

The tiny commlink tucked into his ear relayed the news that General Maynard Treicolt had ordered Wolfpack to advance. Perfect timing. The advance on the city would send the Sith-Imperial Legionnaires scurrying to defend the high perimeter walls, leaving less security for him to navigate. Just to make certain, he sent a short burst transmission to one of the GA commanders hidden out in the jungle.

“War Daddy, this is, ah, Usury. I am at the mercy of your fusillade.”

Within moments blaster bolts from the distant artillery pieces under the command of Major Captain Raith began to strike the area surrounding the relay station. After a deep exhale to try and calm his nerves, Tithe scurried across the street toward the entrance to the Sith-Imperial building.

The deadly high-powered blaster rounds exploded around him as he ran, sending dust and debris flying in all direction. His Moff uniform, soaked from a combination of nervous perspiration and jungle humidity, was now sullied almost beyond recognition. Twice he lost his footing either trying to avoid an incoming round or not seeing a blast hole in front of him from a previous barrage. Both times he quickly clambered back to his feet and continued his mad dash toward the safety of the relay station.

He ducked through the main door and find two Legionnaires occupying the lobby. They had been watching the dazzling display of carnage outside through the thick transparisteel front windows of the relay station, but immediately snapped to attention when they saw his uniform. After a moment they realised he was an unfamiliar face in an otherwise small garrison. One stepped forward, keeping their weapons low but ready. “We’ll need to see some identification.”

Tithe gave a nod and knowing smile, and made a point of exaggerating the motion to grab his code cylinders from his breast pocket. His hand slap against his chest without grasping what he sought. Tithe twisted his face into a look of absolute horror as he glanced down for the cylinders he had never been issued - while his old uniform passed muster, the Strategic Intelligence Agency hadn’t been able to provide falsified credentials. He dramatically patted down his pockets and looked around the room as he pretended to seek the identification device.

“Ohh boy, I mean, I ah, I had them right here when I left by domicile…”

Another artillery round exploded nearby, rocking the relay station. The Legionnaires looked torn between their duty to maintain their sentry and defend the city.

“Blaster,” Tithe commanded, seizing on their uncertainty. Without thinking one of the Legionnaires handed Tithe their blaster rifle, their obedience drilled into them long ago and easy to exploit. He accepted the weapon with a nod and made a hand gesture used to signify alliance to the Sith throne. “For the glory of the Empire!”

“For the glory of the Empire!” The Legionnaires screamed the battle cry in response as they hurried out the door of the relay station to join the defence of the Kway Teow.

Tithe used the blaster rifle to shoot the locking mechanism of a nearby door then discarded the weapon - such a hideous and primitive way to get what one wanted. Taking one final look around the lobby to ensure that no-one had seen him, he slipped through the door and deeper into the relay station.

So far, so good.

 

[Eldaah Aderyn]

Allies: Madelyn Lowe Karn Zhakul
Enemies: Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Djorn Bline Seydou of Thyrsus

Looking down at the man trussed up by jungle vine and fungal tendrils, she had to wonder what made him tick. It was an exercise she indulged in often, especially when she was dispatched by her Master for an infiltration mission. Eldaah had understood from an early age on Kuat that she was... just different. She didn't feel anything for the children that had been around her, even for her parents before they had been taken by the Akala Crisis. She could feign the emotions perfectly well, she was rather accomplished at acting, but she never could genuinely establish a connection with another being on an emotional level.

It was what made it so interesting to examine people like the corporal in the mud, to figure out why he had decided his best option in life was to join a nation's military, get sent out to some Celestial forsaken planet that had no compunction on chewing him up and leaving his body to the insects, and do it gladly... for a chance to fight the Sith. It just seemed all so... pointless, and speaking of pointless...

Her attention turned to the commanding office of this artillery emplacement, the man pressed against a giant fungal tree of some sort. Walking over to where two Jungle Felucians were arguing in their tongue over who would get to slaughter him, she plucked his comlink away from its compartment in his armor. A missed call, likely the general in charge giving the order.

"Move them along, we killed enough of them and the Graug are doing marvelous work on their own to draw them back here," she said to the Felucians. The other type, the smaller and far less interesting of the Felucian sentients, the ones acting as guides for the Alliance forces... they had not died well. Little love lost between them and those of the jungle.

The scene would be repeating across the stretched Alliance lines, but she paid no mind as she tapped into the comlink's system using her own abilities, isolating its encryption... and tuning the holo-transmitter on one of her precious droids to display her image to the Jedi and her General.

"You are perhaps wondering why Artillery Line Aurek failed to respond. You are perhaps wondering why your assault carrier outposts along your advance route are equally not answering, or perhaps you will soon be asking that question. To see if I tell the truth or not. It matters little to me. The survivors are my prisoners, but I will give you the opportunity to get them back. Come to the jungles of the Ancient Abyss if you want your men, the beings that have placed such trust in you as Jedi and their commanding officer, to live. If not, they will die and the knowledge you could have prevented that will be on your head, General Treicolt."

Her attention shifted to the woman beside him.

"You will come as well, Jedi Knight Loske Treicolt. My Master has taken a special interest in you and hopes you live up to her expectations, as your friend Allyson Locke has so far. Failure to accompany your husband will equally result in the deaths of your soldiers." Her attention moved back to Maynard. "And if you believe capturing the city of Kway Teow will end our hold on the planet, you have been mistaken on the true nature of this world and the beings that command its jungles. We will be watching for your decision."

She cut off the communications channel, gave an order in the tongue in the Jungle Felucians, and departed for the Ancient Abyss herself to prepare the tests. The Jungle Felucians would watch the Alliance, to see what they would decide and whether or not they valued a city over the lives of their people.

 

[Karn Syndulla]

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


Karn breathed silently, as he held the Padawan afloat. Concentrating on trying to keep the young man together. Both were feeling very anxious, it was understandable. Neither one of them did not want to die. While excited as he was to be around such artifacts, and historical significance he did not want to have his companions get mauled to death by those that threatened to rip them apart. Steadying the young padawan so that he could take the shot. Karn eyed the beast nervously, as it snarled and ready to charge. "Um, could you please hurry I rather not the both of us die today!"

He said, his concentration wavering as he tried to keep the Padawan steady enough to take the shot. That was when his concentration diverted to the Padawan known as Kenth Ordo, asking him to look after Takui. Karn nodding the fear slightly showing in his tone of voice. For a bookworm, combat was not his specialty. Although he was thankful that he was not a Knight for combat, a Knight gifted with the Force. Keeping the man suspended in the air. His eyes watched between one of the Sith Hounds, then on to the next. Kenth walked forward, brandishing a green bladed lightsaber. Moving with elegance and grace, but that of a warrior cutting down one of the Hounds.

His face slightly made one of disgust seeing him cut in half. Shifting his focus back onto Takui. Holding him in place, finally, the beast made it's move, charging, as the beast charged, Karn moved Takui to the ground with a roll. And with that, the Padawan taking the shot while the beast was mid charge but while the beast gave a death cry before still going. when the distance was closed, the beast still kept charging at Karn heading straight towards him. The Jedi Knight, and the beast to the ground. His head felt slightly fuzzy as he sat upon the red sands, seeing Kenth approach the Sith that was before them. Frantically getting back up. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Shame, if those things could be domesticated. So much potential. Oh well...."

He looked over to the Padawan close by after the Knight collided with the beast. , realizing that they had both survived such an encounter. He started to frantically say to him. . "Hey man, you okay, you aren't dead, are you? Say something if you aren't hurt or dead please?" He said looking into the Padawan, knowing that he would be alarmed, but as long as they both were okay that was all that mattered. It was bad enough Kenth was carrying the team as it was. The snarling and the growling continued, looking around to see even yet another Tuk'ata come for him. The dread increasing. "Oh, crap."

 

[Ripley Kühn]

:// POST 3 | OBJECTIVE 3 //:
:// LOCATION: DESERTS OUTSIDE KORRIBAN CITY //:
:// ALLIES: GA | NIO | Kat Decoria //:
:// ENEMIES: TSE | Onrai //:
: // EQUIPMENT: ARMOR | LIGHTSABER //:​

Ripley’s eyes grew wide as she came face to face with the Sith lord. Momentarily, all the knight could feel were the effects of a rush of adrenaline rippling through her body. Then her presence came- cold, hateful, stifling. It sent her instincts into overdrive, and the need to run became stronger and stronger. The need to survive. She worked to calm them, reasoning that every day led up to now, preparing her. The effects of the meld came through at exactly the right moment, amplifying her own attempts. She would not run, she would not hide- she would stand against the tide of darkness, not backing down. ​

Upon the door opening, Vanessa would be there, arms crossed with a pout as she looked at the Jedi in question. "Really? You came through here without masking your Force presence?" The goddess sighed in frustration. "I've been doing this for a long time. You could at least check to see if anything's in the next room if you're going to be so careless."

When the woman spoke, Ripley was stunned for a moment. Was she… chastising her, like a child? No, Ripley had not cloaked herself. The zeltron couldn’t help but frown. It highlighted her shortcomings, her rash thinking. Things she had been working so hard to change, thrown back in her face. A small drop of anger had bloomed within her, but she attempted to reign it in. What’s done is done, and she couldn’t change it now. Anger was a dangerous thing to a Jedi on a normal day, but here on Korriban, it could easily erupt and grow into something else.​

"Alright, let's get the initial introductions over. I am the goddess Onrai. What's your name?"

A goddess? Huh, Ripley didn’t expect to meet one of those today.​

“Ripley Kühn. I’d love to stick around and chat, but I’ve got some things to take care of, and you’re kind of in my way.” ​

The knight pressed the button her saber, the blue blade coming to life beside her side. She brought it up, left hand moving to grasp the hilt under her right, right foot forward.​

“So uh, if I could just squeeze by you, it’d be a lot easier for both of us.”​

​

 

[Onrai]

Seeing the surprise in the Jedi's face, Vanessa continued to stare at her as she introduced herself. "Ripley Kuhn? An interesting name." She raised an eyebrow. "Kuhn is a name I once went by a very, very long time ago. But I digress. You've already failed to impress me here. How else can I be disappointed?" Ripley's activation of her lightsaber caused Vanessa to bring her palm to her head. "You're joking, right? You're going to wait until I respond in order to pull out your silly little laser sword and say your piece?" She slowly began to walk towards Ripley - or at least appeared to. Whether this was a manifestation or an illusion was not yet clear. "What you should have done was ignore my conversation piece and attempt to strike me down while I monologued." She visibly had no weapons, though as one of the most skilled Force users in the Empire, whether such was truly needed was not particularly clear. "If this is the quality of Jedi the Galactic Alliance has roped into their scheme to conquer Sith territory this decade, then I have serious doubts about their effectiveness."

Vanessa paused a few feet from Ripley, easily within striking distance. It was too easy for her, wasn't it? She pointed at something behind the Jedi Knight. "And now mistake number 3." Were Ripley to turn, she would see the pair of Dark Troopers that had moved forward and out of hiding, whose heavy repeating blaster cannons were pointed directly at her and whose energy shields were active. "You can either attempt to focus on me and be gunned down by my associates, or you can turn on them and I can watch as the rate of their blaster fire overwhelms your reflexes with a lightsaber and you get shot full of holes." She sighed. " Nylea Apollodor was a lot more enjoyable to play around with than this."

It was all a part of Vanessa's plan. Were she to turn her attention fully to the potential onslaught of blaster fire from the droids, Vanessa would have something for her she was certain would end whatever threat the Jedi posed.

Ripley Kühn

 

[Lunafreya Solidor]

O B J E C T I V E | Rebirth Of Darkness.
L O C A T I O N | Felucian Jungle.
T A G S | Djorn Bline
T H E M E | Here.
G E A R | Armor, Ring,
Lightsaber, Whip.
​

“Does it have to be so tight?”, she asked out loud in her own voice without modulating her tone to sound like a male humanoid creature. As she walked the green fields covered by felucian moss, Lunafreya couldn’t help showing some sort of small addiction on listening to the cracking sound done by dry sticks that fell on the ground, the Norfairë made her feel… funny, in a peculiar way, she could feel this being whispering inside her mind, and could it breathing as if it was a mere extension of her own being.
“Well, yes... I lament for your troubles, Your Grace, this is a very fastidious being, created entirely to serve your desires and suit your needs.”, fastidious he said, Lunafreya would call it spoiled, but who was she to say anything about it? Aeducan explained to Lunafreya, as if she wasn’t aware of how expensive the being actually, she paid for it, and read the damn manual. Without caring about replying to him, the elzeri female decided to ignore him and simply shutting off all communications, at least for now. There was a savage, glorious beauty filling a planet such as Felucia, and Lunafreya couldn’t help but wonder how much it reminded her of Valythor, with all that wildlife spreading vibrantly around her, and most likely the reason she chose a planet such as JanFathal to occupy on New Imperial Space, but that was in the past and she wouldn’t return to its woods anytime soon. The Elenna was her current goal in her farse as Tar-Annatar, and this visage was here cornerstone to stage her expansion to Sith Space under a new identity, or as she liked to think, “another mask”, she probably looked disgusting for most people, Norfairë had a sickening unsettling aura very intoxicating to ignore.

​

Nightfall was befalling, and in the darkness, she thrived gloriously much like all ominous things in Felucia. The Living Force was strong in this land, stronger than she had felt it on any planet for a very long time, but it was so wild, so gray, so pure that it made her feel as if she was being bathed on spice the whole time, her senses were very sensitive, Norfairë was stuffed on nutriment. Hopefully, she would not cross with anyone she knew from her past, and she prayed as not to crossing paths with Daedalos, it was more than time for telling him the truth, she knew that in the depths of her heart, but still, was such a blissful thing to live in ignorance that provided such shelter that it could be quite easy to feel envious on his position.

“You are not wrong, who deem that my days have been a dream... “ Her voice made itself heard among the woods of Felucia, singing on a lovely tone, unfit to a creature dressed in such horrendous attire, there was power on her tone and Lunafreya knew that quite well. “Yet if hope has flown away… In a night, or in a day, in a vision, or in none, is it, therefore, the less gone? All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream.”
Both of her avian pads that the armor gave her, swiftly stopped walking and her hand raised itself to touch on the external surface that stood above her heart. At her side, crossing its woods, Lunafreya sensed the confusion coming from someone looking straight at her, as she turned her head to gaze upon the creature, her glowing golden eyes were laid upon the oddly shaped figure of a Sith, for he had the makings of a pureblood creature and the eyes of those well-versed in the ways of darkness. They both stared at each other for quite some time, listening to the sound of the wind gushing through leaves, before he decided to cut the air with the sound of his voice. By his side, well tightly entrapped by his saddle was one of the flying sithspawns that the imperial scientists were so proud of, creatures that she wasn’t yet capable of making herself, yet.

“Who are you boy? Are you here with words of the Empire?”, the Sith stopped, his eyes widened in his face as his hands ran to his throat, scratching his flesh trying to grasp a gush of air. His mouth opened enough to show his teeth while his eyes were set on her, filled with hatred for being choked by an unknown force user that barely did anything to show his actual intentions, and just stood there, watching him with a frivolous calmness stamped in her big golden eyes, his fingers opened a connection with the other Sith trying to call for help just as she expected. Joining both of her lean, red-ish lips, Lunafreya declared out loud on a tenebrous male tone of voice.

“I am Darth Asphodel.”, walking past him slowly, the creature did not even care about turning her head to face the dying Sith, all Lunafreya did was raise her hand in the air and continue walking, towards his winged beast. The creature turned her head to gaze upon the elzeri female on her garnet, and then she roared viciously, a unique all-powerful tone of ruin meant to cower the female on her attempt of touching its skin, but Lunafreya was a preceptor of such animals, for too long she had mastery over the minds of beasts of all sorts, and through that dark enslavement she used it to call the creature’s senses and bend its will to her own as she demonstrated by hissing in evident agony. “Bow.”, her dreadful voice ordered with a single powerful tone that forced the creature to obey without a single second wasted on thinking if she actually should. Her horrible head bowing down before the woman dressed in black, snarling almost inaudibly to her new master, or mistress if the creature cared about actual genders. ‘Asphodel... Within the hollow crown.’, her mind glamourized on thought to none but her own ego, as she stepped on the creature’s head and elegantly walked to her seat, comfortably taking it and slamming both feet on the creature’s torso, forcing it to fly, chanting in foul wisdom. “When beggars die, there are no comets seen; the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes!” And the night skies were filled with the relentless music of Darth Asphodel guffawing majestically as a dateless bargain to engrossing death.

 

[Kenth Ordo]

O H _ I _ D O N T _ T H I N K _ S O
NEW JEDI ORDER
OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY | POST IV
EQUIPMENT: LIGHTSABER | BATTLE ARMOUR
VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS
ENGAGING: Dimitri Voltura

As his opponent moved with lightning speed, Kenth felt the subtle encouragement of Asmundr Varobalder setting in - the Jedi angling his lightsaber to intercept a strike that would have easily decapitated him had he not stopped it. He glanced from the crimson blade inches from his neck into the eyes of its wielder, the sound of locked lightsabers clashing filling his ears.

"I will say, I've never met a Sith Lord who complained about being challenged to a fight." The Padawan observed, "You'll have to forgive me if my bladework is sloppier than your usual victims." He pushed away, breaking the saberlock. The Tuk'ata would be troublesome, he thought, especially since his opponent was more than likely better trained in the art of duelling than he was.

For now, however, he would have to focus on surviving the onslaught of his Sith adversary until Takui and Karn Syndulla were no longer indisposed and could either back him up or get out of there so he could escape as well.

No more dredging on what that Tuk'ata would do if it sunk its claws into his flesh, no more worrying about whether his friends were alright or not, no more explosions or chaos.

There is no chaos, only harmony.

It was only him and Dimitri Voltura, light and dark, Jedi and Sith.

He stepped forward, letting loose a flurry of probing attacks to test the man's defences before he would return to a defensive stance. Kenth needed to keep himself centred, as there would be no second chances were he to slip up and allow his enemy to land a strike.

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

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

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

She could still feel the other presence from inside ( Avernus ), but she still didn't know and recognize his aura. However, through Force-bond, she luckily felt that everything was fine as much as possible and she didn’t have to worry about her lover. Mostly not to disturb the Sith Lord because she didn’t want to do that. Rather, she turned her attention back to her own magic and practiced. She knew they could disrupt and break the concentration at any moment, since they were in the middle of a war, but until then, she was trying to practice.

The Dark Side energies swirled around her, more and more, it became easier for her, thanks to the teachings of AMCO and the practice with the man. With the stirring energies, she managed to reach the Netherlands and, before her eyes, blood began to appear after concentration and words. It was as if it had popped out of the sand, but it had not made the sand mud. At first it was just a small stream, then it was like it had erupted like lava from the depths. When there was enough blood here, it began to take shape. Moving pretty slowly from the bottom up, it came together into a strange humanoid, a blood demon.

As Oracle appeared and materialized in the world of the living, the moment she felt someone approaching. Plus, a familiar aura she’s met before on Voss. Captain Bentran Rarr. She sent the demon with a telepathic thought to go on reconnaissance, she didn't need it now. Went closer to her camp, where there were mostly researchers and four Wolfguards who were watching over her. What she felt was unnecessary, but didn’t care about this now. Ingrid walked over them, up the sand hill, which was not far from the entrance to the tomb where Adrian worked.

”Beltran Rarr, to tell you the truth, I was hoping I wouldn’t see you again. What are you doing here in this cemetery? Did you decide to eventually give up the Jedi’s insanity and finally start using both sides of the Force?” she asked the man in her usual cold, military voice.

In fact, her first thought was that the man had come to destroy as many graves and relics as possible, but she still had to stab him a little in the light of the previous ones. Their fight was good, only the Jedi’s presence and intervention was disturbing, and the fact that Ingrid wasn’t completely actually fighting, so she was at a disadvantage to the two men all along. When the fight was equal, the duo told her she had lost…

​

 

[Mato Kejak]

​

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

The party's final walk to the Tomb of Darth Bane had proven short indeed; worse than the weather was the miasma of darkness that perfused the planet's atmosphere, gnawing hungrily at the edges of Mato's perceptions. Yet, even through the Darkness, points of Light, pinpricks, shining stars in a sea of night. Between each a luminous thread, the work of Asmundr Varobalder to meld them together and keep them strong.

A constellation of righteous fire, descended upon a den of iniquity much in need of cleansing.

Yet even he had to draw back, nearly closing his eyes as his mind was assaulted by a bright flare akin to a supernova that shone from within the Temple of Sacrifice, and another right after, offset from the first. The second burst, he knew to be Master Starchaser, the man's facility with such powers being nigh-legendary throughout the galaxy. The first, though, he wasn't sure. But, through the slight pain he felt, having been unprepared for such radiance from so shadowed a place, he smiled.

"I pray that those we face can use our light to see a proper path from their self-inflicted hell," he said to his companions, though to some extent the comment was also directed at young Lucien, well-wishing couched in a slight warning; the conflict in the young man's soul was nearly palpable to the elder Jedi, one who had trained multiple apprentices to knighthood and had grown adept at seeing beyond the surface.

"But, for those who have been in the Darkness too long, I fear that our light will do little but blind them." A hard edge crept into his tone, and his grip tightened, slightly, around the hilt of Temptation. "Always remember that a blinded beast is more dangerous than one that can see. Unpredictable, they may strike with abandon, uncaring of what gets in the way, or they'll prove more cunning and careful by far than they have right to be."

As the two Sith came into view, he heard the words of the one arrayed in a panoply of golden ornament, and he drew forth his blade, glowing striations of purest white shining forth from it as its power was revealed. "In the interests of expediency," he said to his companions as he began to stride ahead of them, "I shall dispatch the younger quickly, and then aid you against the gaudy one, if you haven't already subdued them. Be confident in yourselves, and their words and attacks shall find no purchase. It is doubt that gives them power, enables them to dig in and weaken you—if you can stand firm, then the Force itself shall ensure you will not fall."

Splitting off from the others, he went ahead alone, his eyes fixed upon the red-haired warrior in his path. Suddenly, he stopped, some twenty feet away. "What is your name, young one?" he called out, standing relaxed as the sand whipped around him. "It isn't too late to have it recorded among the righteous in the Journal of the Whills. Their great histories would honour you mightily if you lay your weapon aside, to stand with us for the sake of all life."

 

[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

Flickering back and forth between states though he was, Avernus seemed roughly as sane as he had been in life - which was to say quite insane, but not typically to the point of failing to connect with reality. It was an open question how that would change as life became a distant memory.

"Death awaits us all, yes, eventually."

As the fantabulous spectre stepped closer, a smirk made its way onto Adrian's features, a smirk that only widened when the man noted the dread he had supposedly invoked. He had been deadly in life, to be sure, but it was hard to amass a fearful reputation and a fabulous one at the same time. "Oh, I'm sure they'd rather let dead heretics lie." A wave of his hand made it clear exactly how little weight he gave that term.

"As for Telis, I dare say he doesn't intend to join you anytime soon. Recently became a vampire, if you can believe it. Immortality, of a lesser variety."

Chuckling merrily, Adrian shook his head with amusement, glancing over at the finished-yet-unfilled constructs. "Please, we both know I spend more time avoiding battle than joining it. The Jedi are quite mad to think they can claim it, but I don't expect to stick around to find out."

What he forgot to mention was that the spirits of the world, already agitated, might well be driven into a fury at a defeat on these "sacred" sands. The Jedi might not be able to claim the world for themselves, but ensuring that the Sith lose control was not outside the realm of possibility.

 

[Daz Farlander]

Daz Farlander, Lieutenant, Galactic Alliance Starfighter Corps
Location: Space Over Felucia
Gear: X-Wing
Tags: Olen Halcorr | Dracken Pryce | Aeson Keel | Teica Giraan
​

​

"Phantom Ten! Posi-"

"I'm on a squint! Right on his tail, I got 'em!"

Daz quickly gripped on the joystick bring it close to his chest to raise the altitude of his fighter. The S-IMP Interceptor had been maneuvering through every attempt at a clean shot. It was always so close or another deflector shield hit but he just could not get the snag that he wanted. He knew this pilot was toying with him, he could tell by the way he was flying. Loops, spins, and round turns were preformed constantly by the enemy craft. It would be an embarrassing look, if anyone were paying attention.

The Intercepter quickly shot towards the right, Daz's eyes tracking it as it went out of eye view. He quickly adjusted the fighter to where he could get a good sightline. By the time he was around to meet the fighter, it had already dashed upwards to try to get Farlander by surprise from behind. His astromech droid, Cutter, who surprisingly lasted the last couple of engagements and was working the the Lieutenant full time, wailed a couple of excited beeps to indicate that the fighter was going around. Daz did not hesitate to push the joystick forward to drop the nose of the X-Wing and avoid getting cooked by the enemy's cannons.

As sweat started to drip from his forehead, Farlander was repeatedly checking the radar, making sure he could keep the enemy in front of him, and that there was no others around him waiting to get the drop. The radar showed that the Interceptor had made its way around with a port side turn and was coming around from the front. Rookie mistake. If the pilot came around at just the right angle, it would be the just the kind of shot needed in order to take out the Interceptor. Daz smiled as he pushed back on the throttle, slowing down a bit. And just as predicted, the squint was coming from left side, about to get a shot on the cockpit of the X-Wing. Farlander shifted in his pilot seat as he watched the fighter with his eyes. He looked at the crosshairs of the targeting module, then back out at the enemy fighter through the view port. One last look out and bam. The targeting module got a lock on the Interceptor. He wasted no time as he squeezed the trigger on the joystick, the quadcannons rippling as all four shot straight for the fighter.

The shots hit their target without haste. Farlander increased the throttle of the fighter as he started to get back on the trail of the now damaged squint. The main engine had obviously seen a malfunction as the speed of the fighter dropped significantly. Two shots hit the main hull, but he couldn't tell if he pierced through or not. Nonetheless, he was finally getting through. And it was time to finish it.

"Cutter! Single cannon. I'm feeling a bit disrespectful today." A bit of revenge for styling on him while engaging one another. The firing mode switch had been made and Farlander again had come off of the throttle. He lined his crosshairs up again until he got a lock, then fired three shots towards the back of the Interceptor. All three hit the main engines, which in reaction caused an explosion to erupt from the craft. He was far enough away to not be ripped apart by debris, but a few free pieces hit the wings of the X-Wing. Scuffed paint job at most. A few reassuring beeps came from Cutter as Daz quickly wiped his brow. The Liuetenant replied quickly.

"Yeah, buddy, I do owe you one, thanks. Switch the firing mode back to quad and give equal power to the shields and weapons. Back into the fray, keep your head down." He said as he increased the throttle to max, flying back into the heat of it all.

 

[Iasha Rha]

Kat Decoria Alina Tremiru

Iasha might have looked calm and composed on the outside, but her heart was beating into her throat. She didn’t know if it was the cold or the fear that made her hands shake, but they shook all the same, and she tried her best to keep them still. Should they run? Perhaps it was best to embrace the fear and let it move one. Then again, fear was fickle. Anger was the most reliable passion.

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

She offered a hand to help Alina up, then moved her sabre to better see the area around them.

“Don’t run, they will chase us into a trap” With the illumination of her sabre, she revealed several bleach-white bones crushed up against the walls and half buried in sand which had since blown in. Iasha stopped and knelt down, feeling the ground with her hand for loose tiles. “There should be a trigger somewhere here, if we can avoid it.”

Archaeology was always one of her better elective subjects in the academy. Tracing her fingers along the corners of the floor tiles, Iasha marked out four of the sand-covered slabs with her fingers that, now that they were made aware, had larger gaps between them than the others did.

“We can avoid the trap all together.”

She smirked in her moment of victory, and for a second forgot to keep her mind occupied. Pride and smugness was their way in, and as she looked up, she looked straight into a skeletal face. “Ah!” Her sabre flashed through the air as she backpedalled. “Holy chit!” Her sabre flashed twice more as she turned, and slashed, then turned again. Her breath fast and her shoulders high. She exhaled deeply to regain some control of herself as she occupied her mind again to keep the phantoms out.

Ahead of them were stone doors, nearly closed. They had half collapsed, so their tops crashed together and left a slender triangle through which to squeeze through. From inside, they could see the faintest red light. It was the path to the inner sanctum. The heart of the tomb was getting closer.

 

[Master Zoryu]

RADIANT CHAMPION
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | STRIKE TEAM SHAN

​

The wizened old man swayed on the spot as he strove to restrain the storm. Tendrils of sand licked hungrily at the walls of light that held them at bay like the many tongues of a ravenous beast. It was clear to Zoryu that the hurricane that howled in anguish just beyond the safe haven of his shield, like the rest of Korriban, seethed with the powers of the Dark Side. "This is no ordinary storm..." he seemed to mutter to himself, though his words would clearly be heard by the other Jedi standing nearby.

Indeed, Zoryu could sense that he was waging a war on the darkness that pervaded the space beyond their refuge of light. He closed his eyes tightly as he redoubled his efforts against the winds. For a moment the shield seemed to glow brighter and its borders began to expand around them, driving the shadowy presence that sought them out further in on itself. He knew that he was not doing battle with a consciousness, but as he made ground against the sandstorm, he could sense something reminiscent of... rage. Something fell hard on the barrier and Zoryu's knees nearly buckled, causing the sphere of light that encased them to flicker and shrink back as the swirling darkness advanced.

The lightstaff that the old Jedi had been using to steady himself, raised into the hair like a conduit for Zoryu's efforts and he poured out a deluge of energy that steadied the advancing gloom.

​

The focus of his energies helped sustain his struggle and he allowed himself a glance back at Asmundr and the others to ensure they endured. "Are you alright, my friends?" he called to them, his tone tinged by the strain he could feel on his connection to the Force. The Jedi were many points of light, like stars, in the darkness as they traversed the hazards of Korriban, but Asmundr and Jannik were the keys that aligned their lights into a vivid constellation. Their continued focus and safety would be paramount to defeating the Sith on their homeworld.

Unfortunately, Zoryu's question would be purely academic as he shuddered once more under the weight beyond their bubble. As he turned back to face it, a blast of sand burst through the luminescent bulwark and caught him in the eyes. Zoryu called out in pain and his free hand covered his face in frustration as he attempted to blink away the irritant. Though he could not see it, he knew that his shield remained firmly in place. Yet even as he strove to drive the particles from his eyes, a shudder went up his spine and his concentration was beset by a vision. At least, it seemed very much like a vision. A glimpse, perhaps of something approaching. Something far more tangible than the storm.

As he cleared enough of his vision to catch a blurred glimpse of the shrouded terrain before him, Zoryu struggled to peer past it, at whatever danger was approaching. "Padawan... I may require your assistance!" he shouted back to Leon Gallo , not daring to turn away again. Whatever he felt beyond the edge of his true sight, he knew it would be too much of a challenge for the fledgling Jedi.

​

ALLIES | NJO | GA | Leon Gallo // Jannik Morlandt // Asmundr Varobalder
ENEMIES | TSE | THE DARKSIDE | Cara Dorniarn

 

[Darth Strosius]

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

Alisteri glared at the Jedi, raising his sabre and preparing to block or deflect whatever came his way. He didn't stop moving though, barely even breaking stride at the sight of the weapon being aimed at him.

He had never been to Zeltron, nor had he heard of such a place, but he highly doubted it was as sacred as Korriban.

For a moment, confusion spread across his mind as he ran unabated. He hadn't been shot at yet, perhaps the heretic was waiting for him to get closer? That was when he saw the face of his enemy however, more so the expression, and he began to understand the situation more clearly.

The grin that left his opponent's face soon crawled onto his as he kept charging without any interruption. It seemed as if someone's weapon wasn't working properly, and the acolyte was very sure that it wasn't his.

Still he kept the blade in front of him just in case a shot was fired. The last thing he wanted was his own overconfidence to be his demise.

"Do tell me where you hail from defiler, I'd love to send you back to your loved ones...in a box!"

 

[Kaleleon]

Allies: Ripley Kühn | Kat Decoria |
Enemies: Onrai
Gear: Linked in Sig.​

There are very few reasons why a team would initially be separated in an operation. Coming from different angles would allow the group to not be completely ripped apart from one counter strike. However, the very real reason for why sometimes it doesn't work, is unexpected forces one may have to face. The rest of the troopers that may have been with us, attempting to aid myself in reaching my destination were held back. Being attacked by Sith Troopers and Droid. They were good men, and I expected much of them for their skills. Being able to take on the Sith Troopers so that I might continue onward to my destination.

I was starting to hate the idea of carrying too many weapons upon me. Honestly, all I had was my Slug styled shotgun, lightsaber, and shield, the armor was the heaviest. Keeping my top speed of my run slower than I would like. What made me question part of this operation, was somehow, all of these Sith knew we would be here. As though they had eyes and ears knowing of such actions we would be taking.

Though to be fair, keeping some troops behind to protect valuable assets during a war would make the most sense. Just, I did not expect this much.

Through the force, it was not difficult to feel ahead, a obstruction the natural flow of the force. A Malignant force that shifted and twisted its stream. It was a Sith, or a dark sider of considerable power. I could sense another Jedi there. It was not good to see that we would be challenged. It would no doubt be evident I was closer. Yet, the building they stood upon would be difficult to climb for any average person. Not a Force User though. A very simple use of Inertia, to change ones physical interaction with the world allowed one to walk on walls. More over, reducing ones inerta, or the force required to move an object, allowed me to walk right up the side of the building, with great speed.

Adrenaline kicked in for a second time tonight. Attention focusing hard upon Sith lass who stood before one of my team. Droids however, were bringing up their weapons to fire. Why is it that every Sith needs to have troopers around them? Can they not fight their own battles? Including this lass who was clearly powerful within the force? Always afraid of going head to head it seemed.

It was simple to project bubbles of the force around the droids. A variety that would reflect their weapon's fire within the bubble. Rebounding the shots around and around them until they were shredded from the weapons they so coveted.

"Excuse the tardiness, Got held up by some Troopers."

 

[First Sister]

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

Rising from her prostrated position, Athanasia did not delay in following the Dark Lord to the outside of the temple. Even as she walked, the Dark Side filled her, the mark on her bosom emanating with a dark, corrupting energy that reeked of power beyond the scope of her insignificant mortal conception. All the while, the mark yet continued to burn, singeing the soft mortal flesh of her bosom in such a manner that the pain very nearly caused her to collapse. It was only through indomitable strength of will that she persisted, the Dark Side feeding off of her agony as an insatiable parasite.

The voice of Typhojem spoke to her, burning into her mind the grimoire of ancient magic and sorcery, while luring her deeper with whispers of power and freedom, the same promises her parents had fallen into when they were slaves.

Thus, she followed in their footsteps.

With the towering Dark Lord’s hand around wrapped gently around her narrow shoulders, Athanasia found herself swallowed by the darkness, emerging moments later on the roof of the temple. Through the Dark Lord’s powerful connection to the Force, she sensed the presence of two sacrilegious beacons, their energies standing in intolerable conflict to the passion of Bogan.

The Dark would eclipse their Light.

The diminutive priestess could sense from the Dark Lord’s severe expression the trust he was investing in her in surrendering such a sacred device to her responsibility. Ultimately, it was his connection to the Force that would lend the power to her incantation. However, she was the anchor. Her knowledge, faith, and connection to the Left-Handed God would see the ritual made manifest, each channeled into the focus represented by the sacred object in her grasp.

And so, with only a silent gesture to the Dark Lord, Athanasia took her place on the pedestal and placed the sacred blade into the ground as she prepared to deliver the first words of the incantation...

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

 

[Loske Treicolt]

WOLFPACK | GHOST VIPERS
FELUCIA | KWAY TEOW OFFENSIVE
ARMOUR | LIGHTSABER
FEET DON'T FAIL ME

​

<"Nothing, General. Commo displays they're offline. But- COMPFORCE designation 'Diamond Snake' reports they're scaling the walls. I can give the word to begin the assault but it means whatever they have there isn't being softened up.">

The report that came back was equal share validating and alarming. On one hand, her frenemy and subliminal espionage mentor was managing to scale the city’s defenses as planned. On the other, radio silence from the artillery.

“Offline?" She knit her brows to process the potentials of a quiet line. They were in the jungle, on a Sith-held planet, in the literal dark (save for the consistent glowing plants). “That doesn’t make sense.” So far, they’d had a rough time and on the night of their main push, the missions’ climax, they might anticipate a foil. It looked as though Maynard was considering something similar, taking time to work through the probabilities before settling on his decision and armouring up.

Whatever that choice was, she’d stand with him. She had to. For her, Yinchorr had felt like the first run at Brentaal IV all over again. Meanwhile, for those without that much history, his men’s confidence had been close to fully restored after a month of tough and careful calls. The Wolf knew the pressure of selecting the right option for the pack’s success –– and that’s all they could measure. Victory or failure. There was no inbetween.

<"Wardaddy Dune brought his armor, transmit back to the 7th to move to envelop our force, we're moving in for the assault. Need reinforcements and fire support on call.">

The officer heeding the command relayed the request back to Captain Raith .

<"Let's end this once and for all.">

Both of the wayward Mandalorians were so predictable that she laughed.

At least if the 7th were surrounding their position, they’d be able to reinforce the fallen artillery. Or at least verify the source of the empty comms. And maybe –– she craned her neck, still unable to see Kir’s team arriving from the deployments. The month-long siege was too long; he was part of the fresh blood. As long as he’d made it through the hold in the stars up above...

<"All Wolfpack callsigns, begin the assault. Oya!">

A tired smile softened her expression for a moment in response. She’d been worried, honestly, about the 104th’s response back to their captured general. His reunion hadn’t necessarily been smooth, but it had been focused with little margin for judgement. And he’d addressed their concerns through action, cautiously planning the assault to emphasize the options for the least casualties. Brute force still had its role to play, but there were more angles. By the time the call for the onslaught was made, the city within had been cut off from resources for some time and the Wolfpack was hungry for the kill and their leader was giving it to them.

Usually, she loved this side of him. Loved it. The confident general, self-sufficient and unwavering in his commands. The man whose only goal in life was to do right by everyone important to him. A stark contrast to the tear-stained, bloody-handed boy on Concord Dawn. A part of him he held close to the vest, that he’d let her see sparingly through glimpses of pain and sought to drown it out in instances like these. Part of her wondered if it was an addiction, a personal triumph that took priority above all else and if he needed to constantly prove to himself time and time again how far he’d come from that little boy’s ineptitude.

"It's good to be back..."

She’d stopped loving it so much when she realized how important it was to him to keep proving himself. How much he’d built around that proof point. Did he want to hold on to his furious command like a treasure, because it was so deeply part of him? So much else had been stolen away.

Looking ahead, and away from that painted T-Visor, Loske nodded.

>You have no idea.< She reassured, and reached for his free hand and gave it a squeeze. She was good for this, and refocused internalizations to the necessity of the strike. Triumph here would be the ultimate relief.

"Wolfmother, this is Wolfcub, sorry we're late, hope you saved some for us."

It was several minutes into the charge when Kir and his squadron finally managed to arrive on the scene with an announcement. She was about to respond when an eerily cool, collected, and entirely unexpected voice made its way through the supposedly encrypted channel.

The artillery’s line that had been dead was resurrected, and a blue, flickering silhouette displayed on the plating of Maynard’s forearm.

<You and Sith women.> Loske murmured, feigning jealousy and fighting the anxiety the projection brought. It didn’t take long for the hologram to start talking and accelerate her unease.

"You are perhaps wondering why Artillery Line Aurek failed to respond. You are perhaps wondering why your assault carrier outposts along your advance route are equally not answering, or perhaps you will soon be asking that question. To see if I tell the truth or not. It matters little to me. The survivors are my prisoners, but I will give you the opportunity to get them back. Come to the jungles of the Ancient Abyss if you want your men, the beings that have placed such trust in you as Jedi and their commanding officer, to live. If not, they will die and the knowledge you could have prevented that will be on your head, General Treicolt."

All the introductory sentences were easy enough to ignore, conjecture at best but the final sentence snapped her attention. And the faint image of the sergeant in the background; postured like a prisoner. Immediately she became defensive. Maynard’d just had enough coals reaped upon his head for preventable deaths, to threaten him with a similar fate so soon was...eerily timed.

On the precipice of action, she reached up to retract the helm that shielded her face so her tight expression was entirely visible. Her head shook no subtly, searching for the General’s reaction beneath the Wolfpack painted plating. She clenched her teeth, eyes wide at the strangely apt monologue drifting through the shared commlink. The shake of her head became more obvious, more pleading.

“May. They were willing to die to get here, for taking this city. This whole month has been for...” That rationale made her stick to her stomach, and the words tasted metallic on her tongue; as if they were lined in bile. They were always willing to die. Always willing to trust. “You have nothing to prove.

This is a trap, I can’t...you can’t walk into another ––” her warning was cut short by the supposed captor’s continuum.

"You will come as well, Jedi Knight Loske Treicolt. My Master has taken a special interest in you and hopes you live up to her expectations, as your friend Allyson Locke has so far. Failure to accompany your husband will equally result in the deaths of your soldiers."

The targeted torment continued.

"Fething..." Her intensely warning expression changed into something enfeebled; her mouth suddenly dry. A furious fist punched against her ribcage, reading darkly into the suggestion of Allyson being a toy to the Sith even still. What had she done behind enemy lines? Was that how this unseen enemy had so much personal identification information on them? Relationships? Names? Weaknesses?

"They'll find Ryv and Maynard."

Or had this mysterious caller been following them for a long time, observing, stalking, planning, and was just now choosing to strike? More games the Sith were willing to play, an omnipresent evil that plagued her lover’s life, and now hers. Defeat after defeat was being piled on his head. How much could he take? Another surprise coming? There seemed to be no end to the rank deeds the Sith could carry out against the galaxy and again, and again, against the Maynard. Like a Treicolt curse.

“What a formal invitation.” Her molars ground.

Despite the quip, she was afraid of the specificity. Still, she shook her head, taking an involuntary step backward as if retreating from the bidding. Even though The Alliance was here, taking their planet, threatening their city, The Sith still had the audacity to try and call the shots.

"And if you believe capturing the city of Kway Teow will end our hold on the planet, you have been mistaken on the true nature of this world and the beings that command its jungles.

We will be watching for your decision."

The line disconnected and her frown deepened.

“And she’s not even waiting to hear an RSVP.” Levity was forced. The situation was degenerating fast, and her mind quivered with alternatives; suddenly everything was out of control again. All she could count on was herself and Maynard. Her hold on both was tenuous.

Between her heavy respirations, she made a sharp inhale and looked over her shoulder and the darkness of the jungle behind them. The possibility of saving men that had grown into extensions of family by now...that was a tease.

“Feth,” she muttered again, and tossed vague two cents in, feeling the pressure of time, but pulling a General from the front line on a personal request, a trial as a Jedi? Bold.
“Sith holds are going to have to be cleansed eventually.”

ALLIES | GA | NIO | Maynard Treicolt // Seydou of Thyrsus // Djorn Bline // Top Bishop // Captain Raith // Aerarii Tithe
ENEMIES | TSE | Eldaah Aderyn // Karn Zhakul // Madelyn Lowe ​

​

 

[Veino Garn]

Asmenys iv irus kash tave jen'
Theme
Equipment: Armor | Handcannon | Stun Pearls (Several dozens) | Powdered Death Stick Gas Grenades
Allies: ???
Opponent: Sanguine Nocturnal
Location: ??? Indirect path to Temple of Sacrifice, I guess?
================================================

The cave was more of a tunnel, stretching downwards towards the base of the valley. Veino pursed his lips beneath the rebreather as he considered. Into the heart of the conflict, completely enmeshed into the slog through the valley if he was forced aboveground. And there wasn't enough time to backtrack back around to reach the temple. He let out a deep breath as he considered the options. There was no room for error and no way to know for sure.

Even around them, the Sith were engaging in slaughter. He could feel the ripples and horror hammering away at his mind, intermingled with Asmundr Varobalder Force-meld. Veino pushed them both away. He needed his mind to be his and his alone. Opening up for one invited the other to tear through his mind. And he could weather it, sequester one from the other through a series of mental blocks. A labyrinth of them, really.

But that took time, energy, and focus. Which he lacked. Ahead, the wind keened through the gap in the chasm and as he watched, the sand grew thicker and even more impossible to see through. That settled it. That way up top was too vulnerable.

Veino pushed forward into the musty tunnel. Even through his helmet and rebreather, the air was stale and still. Tomblike, perhaps. Which, to be fair, was pretty much the entire atmosphere. Ancient statues had fallen tumbled against the ground and chunks of stone had fallen from the walls to litter the walkway.

Step by step, he picked his way down further through the tunnel, placing one foot in front of the other, starting with the edge and slowly lowering the rest of the foot down to the dust-covered stone. He crept forward, going ever down. Other tunnels broke away to the side, but an adjustment of his helmet visors and targeting system revealed they were collapsed dead ends.

Something surged through the Force for a moment. A presence he had not felt in a long time. That was Zark San Tekka . Had to be. But Zark was dead. People had seen his ghost.

Although, as he thought about it, that didn't mean anything. Veino had been dead a few times before. That hadn't stopped him from coming back. How was Zark here then? And more importantly, where? Had he snuck back into the New Jedi Order? That didn't make sense either.

The mission. Veino needed to finish the mission. Unless the mission had, in fact, changed. He slowed again, but then pressed forward. The mission came first. It always had and always would. Once he had the information he needed, he could track down Zark. He marked on his helmet the general direction the presence had seemed to come from. Distance or location was unknown, but he could work with the rest. But the ritual.

All these forces weighed each other in his mind as pressed forward, forsaking some of his silence for speed, until the tunnel angled upward again. He slowed, especially once his visor detected light ahead of him. And lots of life signatures. Which, he didn't need technology to know. The Dark surged and roiled here, something unlike his usual encounters with Sith. They were, at least the dangerous ones, controlled and focused, controlling their anger and rage to wield it like a scalpel with cold control and precision.

He didn't recognize this, but it was the only way for him to get out of the tunnel. One hand tightened on his lightsaber while the other deactivated the safety on the handcannon. The two familiar weights gave a nice heft he could work with.

One last deep breath and he moved to the top of the tunnel, ensuring his Force presence was still fully hidden. He came to the edge of the doorway and peered out. A laughing Twi'lek only half-dressed tossed balls of flame against an entrance. Veino looked around. There were other Sith soldiers in the area, but he ignored them. There was a Sith in his way. But at least she was distracted? Singing something in a language he didn't recognize. It was eerie and sent the hair prickling on the back of his neck.

Silently, three of the stun pearls rose from their pouch and circled. Five seconds. That wasn't a lot of time. But he could make it. They'd be a bit noisy as he accelerated them past the sound barrier, but it would work.

Two steps. He emptied his mind except for the defenses and the task he was about to try. Then, without being touch, three small metal pins fell to the floor, followed quickly by three small booms that buffeted against his chest, as they rocketed away as a single unit, directly at the singing, fire-juggling Twi'lek.

Five

He ran out of the recessed entryway into the edge of the valley and cut to one side, crouched against a rock outcropping.

Four.

Veino dove to the ground and clipped his lightsaber back to his belt, skidding through the sand behind and below the sightlines of the enemy troops.

Three.

He came to a stop behind a protruding boulder that might have once been a statue and ducked, pressing his hands against his ears.

Two.

With barely a twirl of his finger, he wrapped himself in a Force Cloak, masking himself, and strengthening his body against what was about to happy as light and sound bent around his form.

One.

Not far away, the three stun grenades detonated, their shockwave buffeting against the rock and rippling around to clutch and pull at his armor. It rippled through Veino's body, but the bulk of the shockwave had been dissipated by the rock between him and it. Still, his ears rang and faint aches spread through his entire body.

 

[Beltran Rarr]

Beltran Rarr

Location: Arriving at Valley of Kings, sorry for being late :-(
Objective: Kill Sith and eat waffles, and we're all out of waffles. (open to all interactions)
Allies: GA Personnel
Enemies: The Sith, Ingrid L'lerim (RP planned), AMCO

• Armor: Katarn Mk. III Light Powered Armor
• Clothing: Katarn Undersuit, Bantha Load-bearing system
• Primary Weapons: 10mm Pulse Rifle
• Secondary Weapons: Death-Dealer Handcannon (drop holster, right hip - loaded with Sith-Killer Ammunition), Pulse Pistol (chest holster) Lightsaber (clipped to waist), Lightsaber Pike (strapped to back), Wrist Mounted Blaster (right wrist), Tactical Vibroblade (right boot), Incendiary Grenades, Cryo-Ban Grenades

”Beltran Rarr, to tell you the truth, I was hoping I wouldn’t see you again. What are you doing here in this cemetery? Did you decide to eventually give up the Jedi’s insanity and finally start using both sides of the Force?”​

Beltran stared up at Ingrid L'lerim , resting his hands on the stock of his rifle. Though the woman wouldn't be able to see it, as his face was obscured by his helmet, there was a wry smirk on his otherwise emotionless face. He had felt her presence on Korriban, of course, but he hadn't expected to run into her here and now. He could have named about sixty other things he'd rather be doing than trading barbs with the Empress of the Eternal Empire, which included cleaning the refresher in Paladin Company's barracks.

But, alas, one dealt with things as they came. Keying his vox modulator, Beltran replied. "Yes, as a matter of fact." While he wouldn't have gone so far as to call the Jedi Orders' devotion solely to the one aspect of the Force insanity, he did consider it hypocrisy. Or at least the level of demonizing that they heaped upon those who didn't agree with them.

That wasn't to say that Beltran thought the Sith were any better. In fact, they were far worse. They were an order of super-powered toddlers each having their own personal Force-assisted hissy-fit and filling the galaxy with death and destruction as a result. It was an order, like he had told the old man, based solely on ego.

So while Beltran had made the decision since their last meeting that he would never truly follow the Jedi's code, he certainly wasn't ever going to follow the Sith's either. "I've said before that the Jedi are self-righteous demagogues, and my opinion hasn't changed. Neither has my opinion that the Sith," He inclined his head toward Ingrid, knowing that his inclusion of her with them would annoy her. "Are something far worse."

"So I am here to explore," He told her. "And perhaps to learn whether the Sith have always been the abomination they are now, or if perhaps there is a small shred of useful wisdom buried here." He extended his hand toward the Tomb that jutted from the ground behind her. "I've decided to start that search there. Perhaps you'd care to join me? Or," He continued, his voice going deep and menacing. "Perhaps you'd care to try to stop me. There's no Jedi here today to stop me from dealing with you however I please."