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

[Aramis Sunstrider]

​

Location: Korriban's Surface -> Valley of the Dark Lords.
Objective: Defy the Darkness.
Allies: The New Jedi Order, sworn to the Galactic Alliance.
Enemies: The Sith Order, and their Insidious Empire.
Equipment: Simple Clothing, and the Force.
Currently Engaging: Ulrich - the Dragon of Korriban.​

Even when Shrouded in Darkness, the Light shines true.​

Despite the darkness and seemingly self-contained madness that saturated the cinnamon-dusted soil of Korriban, Aramis's mind was eerily serene. He refused to let the evils that clawed at the soles of his feet garner corporeal purchase, banishing their partially-formed intentions away with an unseen telekinetic pulse. They were nothing more than the ghostly memories of those souls who died upon this benighted world's surface - either in ages past or within the present era. Their presence reminded the Jedi of a malformed and faceless cohort of shades as they attempted to grasp at his feet. Doubtlessly seeking the second chance at life that was denied to them in death. As the pulse tore through their incorporeal forms, the Jedi's eyes flicked back towards the horizon- where the towering figure of the Dragon loomed.​

When the Jedi was a younger man, his imagination was weaned on fanciful stories - which more often than not - pertained to such noble and ferocious creatures. However, from everything that Aramis could remember, Dragons didn't concern themselves with the troubles of lesser mortals. Instead, they seemingly favoured the notion of hoarding their rightfully-earned spoils and raising their respective clutches in relative peace. However, this towering being whose distant carapace was apparently forged from hewn obsidian wasn't anything like his youthful mind could've imagined. Instead, this creature willingly bought into the Sith's corrupted notions and ideals of their crumbling Empire. Suffice to say, there was a flicker of disappointment that raced through the Jedi's mind.​

With his expectations quashed in the face of a despoiled reality, Aramis fell inwards in preparation for the coming inevitability. There was no path forward that the Jedi could see where the Dragon saw reason. The beast not only proved that it was more than just another of the Sith Empire's alchemical abominations but willingly admitted to the alignment of their respective causes. His duty, and assigned purpose, was to defend the Valley of the Dark Lords from those who would seek to defy the history that saturated the landscape. Words wouldn't be enough to dissuade the creature from its misguided path. The only route left to the Jedi was to embrace the physicality of his corporeal being - and beat some sense into the towering creature.​

His fibrous muscles began to shift and tighten as the draconic creature roused itself from its roost and began to approach. The landscape, scoured as it was by the swirling tempest that bathed everything within sight, shuddered with their thunderous approach. There would've been plenty of mortal beings who fearfully recoiled at the sight of a dragon charging their location. Yet, Aramis stood his ground. He felt that primal instinct - of flight or fight - rear its ugly head but was disciplined enough to funnel it's paralyzing energies elsewhere. He wouldn't back down from this fight, nor would the man embrace the more feral aspects of his genetic lineage. So, as each shuddering step drew closer, the Jedi began to adjust his footing. Knowing full well that the creature would use whatever means necessary to claim victory over their newfound foe.​

There were multiple avenues that the future could take, as there were a plethora of weapons organically built into a Dragon's predatory form. With its sinuous wings, the beast could either take flight and swoop down at the Jedi from above. Or, the creature would force them together repeatedly - buffeting the stationary and barely-clothed Jedi with gusts of evil-enriched sand. Then there were the claws and fangs that the Jedi would likely have to contend with. All of which were doubtlessly capable of pulping bones and crushing nano-welded battle tanks with relative ease. That wasn't even mentioning the immense potential that each curved enamel protrusion held for slashing flesh into ribbons. Then there was the hardened carapace and the dangers presented by the creature's whipping tail. Everything that Aramis's eyes bore witness to seemingly held the promise of his demise, that he would become just another shrieking echo to saturate the sands of Korriban.​

But, despite the odds being stacked against him, Aramis didn't falter. For the Force was his ally, and it was a mighty one at that. With the power of the Force at his side, the Jedi could potentially balance the scales - maybe even going so far as tipping them in his favour. Yet, like all things in life, the tides of the future were uncertain and ever-changing. In falling inwards, there existed the danger of losing himself to his environment's ebb and flow. That was an outcome that'd doubtlessly expedite his demise, especially with the Dragon storming ever closer. Thus, the Jedi restrained himself from embracing the onrushing tide of sensory input - effectively dipping his toes in both the stream of reality and the rushing aetheric energies. It ground him, in a way, and kept his mind balanced.​

Through this balanced sense of harmony, the Jedi's eyes would dance across the looming Dragon's chitinous form. He saw the plate-bound muscles of its neck stretch and contort as the creature's head drew back. Such movements seemed odd, as the creature's momentum and potential course of action didn't seem to mesh together. That alluded towards a feint - as Aramis doubted that the beast would endanger its thunderous momentum, nor sinuous neck, to strike at a smaller foe that could be easily trampled underfoot. They would've crashed into the sand-scoured surface of the planet and likely hurt themselves in the process, but would've had the chance to devour their opponent and escort them to the Gates of Hell.​

That was when the muscle group in the Dragon's enormous shoulder began to slither beneath its chitinous flesh. With the feint confirmed, Aramis leaned forward. He placed more and more weight upon his dominant leg, only to pour a measure of borrowed power into the woven strands of musculature. Everything that transpired from that moment onwards was in preparation for what was to come. Through the telegraphed feint, the Jedi was able to anticipate the actions of the Dragon as their talons sought to tear into his ungarbed flesh. As being torn apart by rending claws wasn't in the cards for the foreseeable future, Aramis pushed himself forwards to proverbially throw himself out of harm's way.​

Naturally, in hindsight, throwing himself towards the draconic creature wasn't the best idea ever conceived. However, it exploited a distinct advantage that Aramis had over his newly engaged opponent. With his stature being significantly smaller than that of the Dragon, the Jedi could go where the beast's chitin-bound muscle couldn't. In dodging the raking strike and throwing himself beneath the Dragon's armoured hide - all the creature would have to do was slam themselves down, and the fight would be over. But, thankfully, the Jedi's enhanced momentum threw his body into a partially-controlled roll. An act that saw the man safely remove himself from harm's way and promptly place him in front of another danger.​

He was now beneath the Dragon's retracted wing and nearly face-to-face with one of its hind legs. All this beast had to do was strike out with his splayed foot, and Aramis would be thrown from his feet. But, there was an unspoken hope that underwrote the Jedi's actions. He dodge-rolled the sweeping talons and rolled beneath the creature's immense bulk - if it snapped forward at that moment? Well, the Dragon's shifted weight and unstable nature would see the beast topple to the ground. That would make striking the beast's exposed and defenceless spine considerably easier, rather than trying to forcibly clasp onto its scaly hide in an attempt to disable them. But, that future would only come to pass if the creature struck out with their foot before planting their splayed talons down to redistribute their weight.​

If it didn't? Aramis would be ready for whatever happened next.
​

TL;DR? He dodged-rolled.
#PageClaim | #ForTheAlliance​

 

[Kyra Perl]

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

Spoiler: The Story

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Jedi were coming, but so was something else.

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

"She's here."

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

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

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

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

But something more sacred than duty demanded her presence today.

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

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

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

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

'Hi, Sis.'

'I know you what you want from me.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Remember what I told you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am here.

There was no sense in playing coy.

​

​

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

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

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

I am here.

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

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

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

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

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

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


"Nida Perl, stop that."

​

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

Equipment:
Warrior's Skin
Graugothian Chain
The Inferno

General narrative section (Korriban)
​

At last the shining light of The Jedi showered down upon the darkness - burning comets that cut paths through the hungering storm. Yet the phantoms cackled. Yet the planet growled. Yet The Sith waited. The endless night did not cower before the dawn - it simply bided its time.

Because in the end there was a cold truth in darkness. The universe began without light. It would end without light. Darkness was the natural state of all things. Light, on the other hand, was fleeting. It came and went. Impermanent. Inflexible. Temporary. Darkness was darkness with or without light.

In the end light did only one thing to the dark. It stretched it. Against its own will even the light created darkness and it was this truth the Sith now harnessed.

Across Korriban masked Sorcerer's would chant in unison, their eyes to the sky as willing servants and captured Jedi were blinked from existence. The blood of the slain acted as their catalyst to call to Korriban itself. They spoke to Korriban and the planet screamed back. Winds of darkness began to flow from pole to pole and the storm grew stronger with them.

Like thick rivers darkness flowed from ritual site to ritual site. The Sith who poured their energy into the task now felt themselves pulled to it. Like a leech the ritual would suckle hungerly at their living energy as it was ignited.

The taming had begun - it was up to the servants of The Darkside to protect it.

At the Temple​

Sulfuric eyes peered from the shadows in the corner of the room, their gaze burning into The Jedi who crashed through the doors.

At once the Sorcerer's voices raised to a crescendo and their robes caught in the flurry of wind that began to vortex about the room. Whipping about the feet of The Jedi and shaking the room. Vulcanus rifled the air with a snort, sniffing out both of lesser's as they focused themselves on The Once-Emperor.

"Taking cues from Voratios, I see" the one with the strongest scent called to Carnifax, his eyes shifting from his weaker partner to Zambrano.

The Seventh Day Emperor's face peeled into a maw of grinning fangs, blood and ooze dripping from its necrotic gums. Taking a step from the shadows, Vulcanus drew The Inferno - its bone-like spurs sliding from the sheath with a chilling grind. Then, all at once, Vulcanus allowed himself to take in fully the scent of both Jedi.

He could smell their flesh. Taste their blood...and the younger one...yes he could smell it on him. The slimey, oozing fear that dripped from his skin. His hunger grew. His lust to kill rising and he poured himself into the darkside.

Then a violent surge of anger that shattered reality before a savage heat filled the room. With little warning a vortexing pillar of fire launched from the beast's hand, painting the stone black as it aimed to sear both men where they stood.

"Such weakness" Vulcanus' voice followed in the wake of the spinning flame, his twisted form emerging fully from the shadows.

"I smell it on both of you…" Vulcanus paused, reptilian eyes falling to Ryv through the fading flames "...but you. You are little more than a parasite, aren't you?"

"Yes..." Vulcanus taunted as he slowly trudged closer towards the pair, the tip of his Sith blade sparking against the blackened stone cobbles, "a leech suckling at the power of the one stronger than you."

The beast snarled in disgust, "killing you will be enjoyable...but unsatisfying"

To guess which Jedi Carnifax was waiting for was not difficult. One smelled of great power and the other was still a learner. He would end this one and while Carnifax distracted himself...perhaps he too would be ended.

Darth Carnifex Coren Starchaser Shaka Sunstar Ryv

 

[Oceiros Sunstrider]

S U N S T R I D E R
TEMPLE OF SACRIFICE
STRIKE TEAM WINDU
Jedi Jumpsuit | Concord Brawn | Lightsaber

​

In those moments of freefall, those final moments that could be either the life or death of Oceiros he gave himself to the connection between Shaka and himself. There was no fear in the padawan’s heart at the potential for death, for he knew the other would catch him.

Shaka’s will enveloped Oceiros slowing the epicanthix’s fall till eventually there was nothing. When the Jedi next opened his eyes he saw himself hovering a few feet above the ground, held there by Shaka. Being set to the ground on his feet Oceiros passed the explosive to the other.

“If that’s what you call a happy landing, I don’t want to be around for a bad one.” Oceiros joked trying to bring levity to the situation they found themselves in. Even from where they stood above the temple, the Jedi could feel the degradation and pervions of the force that were taking place below their feet.

These were the people that the Concord had attempted to ally themselves with, and for what? To simply defend and allow them to prosper in their tyranny and blood rituals? There was a reason why Oceiros did not join the Silver Concord, that being chiefly among them. The Jedi there had lost their way, caring more for allegiances of governments, than their duties to humanity, than their duties to the force.

“I could feel it the moment my feet touched the ground. We must catch up with Ryv and Master Star-”

Stopping Oceiros felt a cold creep around him, and fill the air. He’d felt something similar on Dantooine when Carnifex had made his presence known. Shivering the Jedi spun on his heels away from Shaka facing the direction where Arctus Silmar and First Sister , came into reality.

What stood before the two beacons of light were two scions of the dark. Scions that would do anything in their power to stop them. Before Oceiros had realized it, his lightsaber had found its way to his palm. With a thought, the hilt gave birth to a cobalt plasmatic blade.

It was when the Sith Lord unleashed their electric fury upon the stone that Oceiros acted. Through the screen of dust and sand the other had created, Oceiros exited at a charge his lightsaber raised to bring down in a cleaving strike.

Leaning forward into the strike the plasmatic blade began to fall. The muscles in Oceiros’ legs flexed as they straightened, propelling the jedi up, and over the Sith Lord’s head, his saber extended to come up from behind striking Arctus from the left side of his lower back up to his right shoulder blade.

Allies: NIO | GA | Ryv | Shaka Sunstar | Lucien Dooku | Coren Starchaser | Auteme
Enemies: TSE | Darth Carnifex | Other Space Kaiden
Directly Engaging: First Sister | Arctus Silmar

 

[Zaavik Perl]

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

[ METAL HEAVY, SOFT AT THE CORE ]
​

A precognitive alarm sounded in Zaavik's mind. His arm snapped upward to cover his face, projecting a force barrier in the path of the oncoming flechette volley. A majority of the rounds halted upon the conjured obstruction, while others merely had their momentum dampened before sinking into his flesh. The sharp projectiles burned as they sundered skin and sinew, drawing warm blood from the many egresses of the resulting punctures. Elbow straightened and the hand extended outward, sending the caught flechette back towards the assailant. The counterattack lining up almost in perfect sync with his Master's.

There was little time for recovery, as an arc of white-hot hatred sparked with jagged intent from the larger, beastlike Sith. Viridescent saber raised, catching the brunt of the lightning while his injured arm erected another barrier and an attempt to mitigate the excess. Zaavik's muscles tightened with small convulsions as some of the malicious currents found quarter beyond his defense. His boots slid against the ground as the sheer force of the lighting arced beyond him and fried the terminal with a droning sizzle.

With a sudden movement, Zaavik bailed from the lighting's line of fire. He spun once over before putting his back against Allyson's. Surrounded, and possibly outmatched, they stood alone. Good. They always worked better with unfavorable odds. It was part of the job, after all. Verdant plasma pointed towards the gun-toting assailant as his knees braced for the worst. If it wasn't a shotgun to the dome, it'd be something much worse. He doubted the Sith would be as quick an end as the wrong end of flechette shells.

"Keep an eye on her, but continue the mission the best you can."​

The Padawan glanced over his shoulder for a split second, catching an eyeful of the large beastlike-sith and the side of Allyson's face. "We're gonna need to make some serious adjustments to this guest list if we're going to finish anything." Could Allyson handle two Sith Lords? Could Zaavik handle even one? She'd just told him not to take his eyes off Maple, but focusing on her didn't seem like the most intuitive play. Though, certainly the least suicidal.

In what was practically direct defiance of his Master's direction, Zaavik ran around her front side and charged towards Gnox. Wow- That's- A big Sith. He had to force himself not to hesitate as he ran forward with his saber held out in a position primed for a strike. Halfway to his target, the Padawan dropped into force camouflage. As he gave way into transparency, and then invisibility, he dipped into a slide. Aimed between the legs of the beastlike dark lord with intent to slide out behind, he held his lightsaber straight up for an attempted dissection.

Optimal? No.

The best thing he could think of? Absolutely.

 

[Creuat]

K N I G H T
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
STRIKE TEAM FEL

F I R E _ W I T H _ F I R E​

First blood was spilled by the Man of Iron when the trio of Force Users disembarked from the dropship. A mere sentry, a Sith Knight no doubt as the dark aura emitted from his body before the life drew from his eyes. An excellent display of the Force from one who has mastered it such as Rurik. With the guard dog of the Sith slain the trio walked the steps of the Academy, the steps almost long as the Jedi temple on Coruscant. The Nautolan could feel a wave of reprieve by none other than Asmundr Varobalder as he walked these stones tainted with the Dark Side. Almost like a hide in a simple way to describe it. The Lord Executor and the Jedi Knights would find themselves in the pit of evil with all monsters and fiends challenging them, and such support from Asmundr was essential to have. There was much risk involved; either fall in anger to ways of the Dark Side, or the whispers of the shadows hindering their focus and morale thus leaving then dead. Though he was far from being a minted Jedi Knight, there was still much for him to learn and improve should he receive the honors of the rank of “Master”.

Grateful he was something that Asmundr would sense via the connection they shared.

Serenity through the Force.

“Cautious, Mesh,” the Jedi forewarned his fellow Knight as he could sense a wave of the Dark Side flowing within him, “do not over indulge, especially in these grounds.” He trusted in Mesh’s abilities, although hoped he wouldn’t be too overconfident in that particular technique that was highly restricted to learn. This task wasn’t for many as it required a caliber of steel willing to fight without holding back. While Rhis abided to the Jedi Code and its many other principles, he was one to integrate his own opinions and values on being a Jedi.

The Sith must perish no matter the cost. Many were too compassionate and merciful to not pick up the sword, favoring olive branches. Peace was a lie to these practitioners, and thus there could be no harmony with their presence.

Destroy the Sith we must.
​

Their ascension of the academy’s stairs led them to the entrance of the complex, determination and courage followed their footsteps as they entered the heart of the Sith Order. Three candles in the middle of the dark void, burning stubbornly as their presence alerted and attracted their enemies. Surrounded endlessly by a horde of Sith disciples from all different ranks; even Apprentices brought out by their Masters to prove if they were worthy to be taught, should they survive this trial.

The emerald blade of his lightsaber ignited, and a mass of crimson followed in response.

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

“The end of the oppression of the Sith begins here,” he announced intensely, breaking the eerie silence they shared. A wave of Sith charged at the trio, and he prepared his blade in hand to cut down the tendrils of the Dark.


ALLIES | NJO | Rurik Fel | Mesh Zetnu
ENEMIES | TSE | Kaze | OPEN

 

[Lark]

​

Location: Valley of the Dark Lords, Near Tomb of Darth Bane
Objective: Defend the Tomb
Writing With: Mato Kejak
Nearby: Marrow Auteme Lucien Dooku

The storm raged on, as did the whirlwind of passion seething around Lark. It was intoxicating, invigorating. As delicious as the finest glass of Corellian wine. Spirits of the past fueled this intense surge of emotion, and the young acolyte felt his connection, his intimacy with the Dark Side of the Force grow even more potent. They whispered visceral secrets into his ear, urging him to embrace this gift that was being offered. For it was a blessing to receive such an offer, and an insult to disregard the will of the ancients. Already Lark had welcomed madness into his mind via the Necronomicon, though those murmurs were maddening and nearly incomprehensible. What the ghosts of Sith past said, that was of true aid. The power they offered not only ensured that Korriban would remain protected, its history and artifacts rightfully preserved. But they also guaranteed that what it was that Lark truly sought would be discovered.

Brother, I will find you. We can still be a family.

It was a dangerous temptation to accept, but there was no other choice. There were no other alternatives. Either Lark accepted the relief of the dark, or he accepted that he would never see his elder sibling again. Really, the choice had been made long ago. It was too late for any other path. He knew the dreadful spirits had their own malevolent intentions. He'd deal with them when the time was right.

Three figures emerged from the shroud of the storm, intent on erasing and purging the Sith from their ancestral homeland. The masked man by his side muttered something about desiring a splash of youth, Lark cared not for any explanation. From the moment the phrase was uttered his eyes were focused on the eldest of the three Jedi, whose devotion to his own beliefs was admirable, if not foolish. But best to live ones own ideals truthfully than to exist as a lie. But the man's existence was a threat, one that must be extinguished.

The Jedi Master inquired about his name, a question that Lark had found many of his opponents asking before battle. Why, he wasn't quite sure. Names were unimportant. Why was it that a word carried so much significance? Why did the man care what other people called him? It was just a name. A useless little trifle.

"My true name has been forgotten, Master Jedi," Lark said gently, barley audible amongst the wrath of the sandstorm. "Though those who call me a friend know me as Lark. And perhaps I will be remembered among your histories, though if I am it will mean I have failed in my mission, and it won't be for the reasons you wish for. Life is a fleeting thing. No one will be remembered forever."

If no one will be remembered forever, than why do I care so much about protecting Darth Bane's memory?

Because I can still learn from him. My mission is not yet finished. Whatever skill I might gain to reunite my family is one that I cannot afford to lose. You, Master Jedi, threaten what it is I hold most dear. Come and see. Come and see what happens when my dearly beloved is made vulnerable.

I've found a home here. That wouldn't be possible anywhere else.

I must protect my home.

 

[Shaka Sunstar]

GALACTIC ALLIANCE
TEMPLE OF SACRIFICE
STRIKE TEAM WINDU
Armor | 2x Lightsaber

​

Shaka offered a mirthless smile in response to Oceiros' return in jest. While he made his reach for the bomb to hold the other end of it, he felt the sudden presence of Dark Siders looming nearby. From out of nowhere they appeared and spinning about to peer into the sandy darkness, he summoned his lightsaber to his hand with the Force.

Lights appeared, and dark forms could be seen. The azure beam of the saber snapped to life.

Ambushed, but ready.

He started forwards, cautiously, and the purple lightning of the Dark Side shot out at him, danger sense flaring as he threw his right hand up, a temporary barrier of the Force flying up between the stone and dust that that was meant to stall the heirs of Windu.

Blue tinted, like the saber he wielded, the stone and rubble crashed into it harmlessly. And then he dropped it, and out from its side exploded the Padawan from his protection.

There was no move to stop him. Their connection in the Force transcended mere words, and there could be no hesitation on the homeworld of the Sith. Be sure, and strike true.

In step behind the learner, when he went high, Shaka drove forwards.

His arm propelled ahead, extending as his body followed behind it, and thrusting that sapphire beam of plasmatic fury to the center of the Sith Lord's being. Their moves were quick, augmented. Despite only knowing each other for such a short timeframe, they moved as one. His saber immediately occupying the space of the Padawan as soon as he deserted it.


ALLIES | NIO | NJO | Oceiros Sunstrider
ENEMIES | TSE | First Sister
DIRECTLY ENGAGING: Arctus Silmar

 

[Ripley Kühn]

:// POST 4 | OBJECTIVE 3 //:
:// LOCATION: SITH HANGAR //:
:// ALLIES: GA | NIO | Kaleleon //:
:// ENEMIES: TSE | Onrai //:
: // EQUIPMENT: ARMOR | LIGHTSABER //:​

​

"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."​

With that, the anger transformed from a seedling to a ticking time bomb, waiting for it’s moment. The memories of her first master swam to the surface- the looks of disappointment, the criticisms bestowed that she could not handle. The shame she felt every time she failed him, the greater shame she shouldered after she left her training. It was renewed when she moved to train under Kahne, but he had taught her failure was okay, expected. It provided room for growth. Yet every day she still repeated those words, trying to quiet the voice inside that told her she was no proper Jedi. Onrai sure knew how to hit her where it hurt, despite never having met her before. It took every ounce of restraint Ripley had to not lash out, to not give in to the desire to slap this Sith’s smug face. ​

Turning to look where she pointed, she saw the battle droids move closer. Chit. She pivoted to the side, ready to defend against whichever made the first move, the woman or her toys- though it would surely make no difference. She was surrounded, and dread set in. There was no way out, but she wouldn’t go without a fight. ​

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

Wait, is that..? ​

"Glad to see you made it to the party." She called out to her teammate.​

The stress all but disappeared from Ripley as her shoulders relaxed a bit. Maybe one Jedi couldn’t handle all that was happening, but two might be able to. She would have to make sure to buy this man a drink after all of this for saving her skin with his perfect timing. She stood at the ready, waiting for the lasers to fly. ​

 

[Ryv]

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

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

"Theirs is the way of suffering."

Ryv nodded at that. Coren was right; the Sith weren't like them, that the kiffar knew. Whereas the Jedi inspired hope and banished the shadow, the Sith extinguished that very same hope. They eclipsed the light in their endless darkness. They murdered children without a second glance. Their power was born of the galaxy's fear, birthed by the same negativity they so desperately coveted in their endless pursuit of power. The cycle appeared unending before him. It stretched over the entirety of the planet. So many suffered, their bodies thrown to the pyre in some baseless quest to control Korriban's power. A power linked to Ziost, Dromuund Kaas, and beyond.

With a deep breath, Ryv put the Jedi Master's tips to the test. He focused as he would when drawing the Force to himself. It wasn't his to command, only to borrow. He found faint traces of Ashla's light all around them, though Bogan's influence smothered it in a cold emptiness. Ryv pushed through the murkiness and grabbed tight to the sputtering strands of the light. His mind followed them through the twisting corridors, drawn to the immense power only a few rooms ahead of them.

Never before had he experienced something so wrong. The presence of the malignant had unbalanced him, sure, but the combined power of the Jedi guided him away from the deep pit of despair. To see the power in full was different. That wave of raw, unadulterated evil felt like a solid wall, impregnable to all but only the greatest of wills. How could he hope to stand against such immense strength? Coren relied on him to stand firm and not falter in the face of adversity. The galaxy couldn't hope to endure if their Jedi guardians lacked the mettle to shatter the Sith. Ryv took a series of deep breaths and pulled his hands from his jacket pockets. His fleshy extremity found Resolve's hilt and hung on for dear life.

My power alone is not enough to cut through their combined might, Ryv. You must dig deep. This challenge will be your greatest to date.

Resolve's voice echoed through the kiffar's mind. Never did the blade fear what challenged them, often going so far as to provide Ryv the necessary strength to overcome their foes. This time, it wouldn't be enough. Ryv needed to be stronger.

"Okay," Ryv muttered. "I can do this, Coren. We can do this. I won't let you down."

They stepped through the threshold together, the Sword and Grandmaster-in-Exile cutting through the Sith Lord's mere pressure in the Force. Ryv looked to the sorcerers as they chanted their dark hymns. The winds of magic flowed freely within. Their cries echoed all around them, guiding the swelling energy into their baleful ritual. On one side of the chamber Darth Carnifex, once-Emperor, stood tall. He towered nearly three feet taller than Ryv. The Sith Lord cut an impressive figure in a room full of, well, impressive figures. None could look upon the Black Iron Tyrant and see something akin to hope. His crimson gaze bore into Coren's very being, entirely disinterested in Ryv.

And from the shadows burned a fiery inferno. Ryv threw himself to the ground, narrowly avoiding the Lord of Ember's scalding flames. The stone blackened where the fire crashed. Ryv looked back, awed to see a wound scoured into the temple stones. He looked back at the beast, eyes wide at its awesome display over its hatred.

"Such weakness..."

Ryv's attention flashed to the monolithic being on the other side of the ritual room. His reptilian features blurred, replaced instead by a frail creature, one obsessed with immortality. Ryv found his cybernetic hand clench into a quivering fist as hundreds of scars across his body burned in phantom agony.

"No," Ryv growled. "You aren't him. But.... You're something worse, aren't you?"

Darth Vulcanus stepped from the shadow, a blade as large as the Jedi Knight cutting a fine line through the stonework. Its body slowed as time stretched onward around him. The chanting grew distant, and Vulcanus' taunts faded into the background as Ryv took another deep breath. He searched himself until he found the invisible thread that connected him to the Jedi Master responsible for their meld. The Sword tightened his metaphysical hold on that connection.

Master, I need your help.

Ryv gazed into the Warden's mind, drawn to the dozens of tiny threads drifting out in all directions from the conflux of etheral power.

I can't follow them all, Master. I don't have time. Lend me your sight.

The Kiffar's visage hardened into a stoic mask as the Battlemind's power resonated within him. Ryv's amber eyes took on a golden glow. Images flashed within his mind of an ethereal bubble that protected Asmundr from the worst of the storm. Now only one thread appeared within his mind's eye. It glowed a radiant gold and traveled parallel to Korriban's sandy surface. Ryv raced alongside it, his mind catapulted miles in the blink of an eye. It ascended a rocky set of stairs and rolled through the dusty storm until a towering structure took shape. One massive entrance stretched upward, and at its base, an unmoving body was slowly buried by the storm.

Ryv traveled a dull hallway until he stopped at another entrance. This one was much smaller, fit for humanoid creatures like himself. Beneath it stood an ardent figure. A snow-white cloak fell over his armored form, its hood casting a shadow over an iron mask.

As Rurik Fel looked up to face the horrors of the Sith Academy, so too did Ryv Karis meet the smoldering, hate-filled eyes of the Seventh Day Emperor. The golden aura faded away, now replaced with a dull gray.

"I offer you this one chance, creature," Ryv flicked his wrist to the right. Resolve snapped into existence, the viridescent blade emitted a gleaming light over the darkened room. "I will be your absolution. Through my power, I can free you from the hatred that enslaves you. I will grant you a swift death. You need only lay down your weapon and accept what must come to pass."

Ryv's lips pulled back into a sneer.

ALLIES | NJO | NIO | Coren Starchaser | Rurik Fel
ENEMIES | TSE | ELDER COMPACT | Other Space Kaiden | Darth Carnifex

 

[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

Oh! It promised to be really interesting when the man said that but it is exactly as the woman said. This is a rather unexpected turn, though true now she has not seen any Jedi around the man. In fact, Ingrid didn't know the man very much, all she knew about her was what she had experienced at Voss. And the other had already used the Dark Side there, unfortunately she didn't know much more than that. And of course he's a great warrior. The woman always acknowledges this; he is just able to interpret the rules in a very alternative way.

She knew the man had deliberately hinted that she would be a Sith. Yet she had said before that she had nothing to do with them. It is possible that they are allies, and also that the woman also uses Dark Side practices, but that did not make the woman Sith. She may not have been as extreme a Warden as her comrades who would have sacrificed anything to destroy the Force, but she agreed with the views. She also believed that the Force is a shackle or chain and must find a way not to be ruled by them. She smiled after the man's words, it wasn't even visible because she was wearing a helmet too.

”I don’t even want to believe we finally agree on something. I didn't think it could happen. Both sides are equally bad. Although from my point of view the Jedi are more blinded and worse. But it's just a trifle.”

Her voice was nowhere near cold and military. She was much more direct, full of life, the complete opposite of the way she had previously spoken to the man on Voss. Maybe she almost hit the flirting style. She was honest anyway, really thought so. When the man pointed to the tomb behind her, she turned back, then back to the man and shrugged, finally pointing to the tomb with a theatrical but incredibly elegant gesture.

”If you want to die, be my guest. At least you make things easier. Although I have to say that what you are looking for is there, inside that ship.”

She pointed to the ship a little further away and to the camp, where logistics people were just beginning to dismantle the camp as well. She didn't know that AMCO hadn't finished creating the Nether Knights yet, she thought her lover did, just as she didn't know that it was the appearance of Avernus that prevented the Sith Lord from doing so. Though her own blood demon was at least certainly there.

​

 

[Hal Vaiken]

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

Tycho shook, slapped and rattled the darn sawed-off frantically as the Sith closed in. The Sith's threats fell on deaf ears, as the former pirate kept trying the trigger to no avail. Fethin' piece of chit. This hellhole of a planet was messing with his mind, his gear and his blood pressure. Muttering curses underneath his breath as sweat escaped his brow in panic, Tycho finally imploded as he...hurled the sawed-off straight to the charging Sith's face.

"Git!" he hissed at the maniac going at him and reached for the hilt of his lightsaber. Hopefully, it was there.

Oh, how he wished he'd been back on his ship.

Spacefaring had him experience the vast weirdness of the galaxy but nothing came close to Korriban.

But here he was, in the name of good, rather than in the name of greed. A flash through the Force ( Zark San Tekka ) washed over him - a tide of hope. Hope the teams they distracted the Sith from would finish the job.

Tycho could only imagine what the sensation was in the deepest depths of this heart of darkness; yet, in the darkest places is where the light shines strongest.

Hope.

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

 

[Asmundr Varobalder]

PROSPERITY’S PROTECTOR | THERE IS NO CHAOS, THERE IS HARMONY
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | STRIKE TEAM SHAN
AVARICE

"Are you alright, my friends?"

Asmundr’s statuesque form remained unflinchingly stoic behind the shield provided by his ally. Continuing to stare ahead into nothing and everything, it took several seconds for the mighty guardian’s mouth to move in response to the conversational query of the aged Jedi Master.

“We fare well. Remain diligent, Master Zoryu.”

And more importantly, across time and space, a part and apart, connected by the vibrant, vital Force, he spoke on behalf of all his extensions by another name; “They fare well.”

Resolutely, the warden’s navigation charted the course for the Jedi under his watch.

---

THERE IS NO CHAOS, THERE IS HARMONY
STRIKE TEAM RHYSODE | Kenth Ordo // Hal Vaiken // Aramis Sunstrider // Takui

Borrowing the patience of Padawan Takui who took the time to aim, he measured some for Ordo. The Padawan seemed to respond well to the reminder of harmony, and Asmundr glowed happily. All the student had to do was keep his mind clear and feedback and forth through their bond to succeed in his pending duel.

A flare impacted the lines of his sight. It was dull, feeble, and almost intangible even in the ethereal realm. Asmundr’s hand lifted, gently waving to divert it from the easily distracted teams and toward the attention of those qualified to understand the ripples of The Force. A beacon that would respond in kind to reinforce the stolen master.

When he touched the Force, when he reached out...had someone reached back?

Unfortunately, despite Asmundr’s gentle direction, maturity could not rise to answer his suggestion and the pulse of desperation would fall into the attention of Strike team Rhysode.

>I will guide you.< The Viking's voice resonated deeply within the metaphysical world, carried efficiently to the minds that were able to focus. The isolated glow of Zark's request amplified with the Guardian's intention, stoking the spark of hope to burn bright enough to draw other Jedi's attention.

Knight Sunstrider was isolated from the team, and although surviving against the manifestation of darkness, needed a reminder that he was not truly alone. The echo of his reassurance to the rest of his team reverberated to the corners of the Epicanthix’ mind. The Knight’s genetics prevented him from penetrating further.

THERE IS NO PASSION, THERE IS SERENITY
STRIKE TEAM FEL | Rurik Fel // Creuat // Mesh Zetnu
Death was here. Asmundr had been prepared for it when reviewing the combination of strike team members and objectives. The Academy as a whole was starting to feel suffocated with conflict and imbalance. A spike of hate flared, and Asmundr borrowed the components of Master Kistal’s peaceful focus to neutralize the variance of Knight Zetnu.

STRIKE TEAM VOS | Zaavik Perl // Bernard of Arca
He could only vaguely feel the remnant shadow of Padawan Dagoth. Based on the proximity of his location, and dire straits, he borrowed some of the impervious dependency on The Force from Knight Kistal. Their respective channels in his mind crossed, briefly connecting enough to absorb and balance what was necessary before lifting from one another again and settling back to independence.

STRIKE TEAM FAY | Mato Kejak // Auteme // Lucien Dooku
Flexing and waning beneath shadows, Asmundr’s concern grew. Shadows gathered together like thick walls, nearly preventing his sight from the team as they ventured deeper into the immoral constructs honouring the dead Sith. It was bleak and livid.

He strained. In response, several threads connected to him flickered and he quickly reset himself. Forced to delegate, he gave direction for his seeing companion.

>Master Morlandt. Guide them through this valley of death.<

STRIKE TEAM KENOBI | Kat Decoria // Ripley Kühn // Karn Syndulla // Kaleleon

The darkside felt fear. The central, powerful evil that had been cohesively knitted in other areas of the expansiveness of his mind was gone; and when the dark side was this diffused, this nondirected, it led to fear. He felt the Sith’s fear and the anxiousness of The Jedi, but they were stronger. The light could eclipse the darkness here, outshine it with confidence in unity.

THERE IS NO DEATH, THERE IS THE FORCE
STRIKE TEAM WINDU | Shaka Sunstar // Oceiros Sunstrider

Movement drew his attention to the Knight and Padawan dynamic. Their tendrils vibrating and humming in response to their waking world actions. He shepherded them through the first set of motions, stopping them from doing damages in the wrong places –– or the right places prematurely.


THERE IS NO IGNORANCE, THERE IS KNOWLEDGE
STRIKE TEAM SKYWALKER | Ryv // Coren Starchaser // Veino Garn

...Once more, a mind refuted the extension of his aid. The fore of his brain throbbed and felt as though it fell into itself. Like a knife, Master Garn’s stubbornness sliced through the tether he’d offered and he let out another groan at the exoneration. An involuntary clench curled his abdomen, and he bent to the sensation. But he dare not blink lest he lose sight.

Master, I need your help.

Help. A necessitous born plea; the necessity to succeed. All-seeing, he squinted into the request to deny loss.

Over Asmundr’s many years, he had gone through several pits of loss. Losses that wailed and clawed at the walls of his mind while he reinforced the security to keep them out, focusing on housing a safe centre for all those depending on him. Loss of family and loss of friends, to war. Loss of sleep, to stress. Loss of illusions, of light, of sparks and bright youth, to darkness.

But of all his losses, the greatest was that which came from knowledge, and from the deep recognition that he could never un-know what he knew. So many things he wished he’d never learned, and as the years crossed on, so too did sight to the past, present, and future. And the people that impacted the tides of each. There were many on the battlefield today, ghosts walking still in their mortal shells.

Knowledge brought benefits of course. Advantages such as rationality, etiquette and choice. But mostly knowledge gave him the ability to parse through information and structure broke information into frameworks. Fitting events of his life, and all those he connected, together into lattices of space and time coordinating and spanning through his existence and theirs. Looking ahead into a hundred alternative futures, interstices, conundrums. Within each of these instances, divergent outcomes threatened; some leading to that dark pit of loss.

I can't follow them all, Master. I don't have time. Lend me your sight.

Of course the young Knight, for all his valour and clarity, could not traipse intelligently through these pathways without a guide. Not with the threat leering at his doorstep.

It was his duty to apply all those benefits, all that knowledge, to apply a pathway for those unseeing. Within the Force’s ebb and flow, there was one that withstood each collision ironclad; with a single focus.

He needed to lend the iron's will to steel the Sword.

The connection was between two imperfect souls, each a pontifex in their own right but blemished by their humanity. The Fel found darkness abhorrent. The Sword found Sith wretched. With such an intense focus, their arbitration was absolute. And wrapped up as a catalyst between the two conductors, he was exposed to the sights each saw. The Viking’s reaction was deeply nonplussed and humane. Through his eyes, and Ryv’s, he found the Dark Lord despicable. A leech of the galaxy, sucking the life from whatever he touched. In an instant, he saw it all.

His biases threatened to bleed into the link and he faltered. It was for a moment, then he realized what was happening. It was brief exultation, a microsecond of dark clarity –– gon, now, in the wash of indecision, a veiled enigma. Cold awakening from a passionate flirtation.

He took a step back and dropped to his knees. Strained by the effort, the giant of a man dropped his fists to the ground, clenching at the red dirt. Coarse, fine grains of the planet’s crust scratched against his flesh as his hands flexed as though he were braiding a thick, invisible rope made of only two strands.

Forcing himself to relax with this rhythm, he resolved to drive the hatred from his being. For all the miasmic corruption of this planet, of this conflict, it was not his. He had to remain unattached and focused. Centred and available above all else.

There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no passion, there is serenity.

Asmundr adjusted, blinding his vision to the faults, seeing only what needed to be seen for the mutual exchange of strength. The channel was narrowed, strengthened, focused and purified of immoral desires for needless self-righteous bloodshed. Decontaminated intention poured into the vessel of the Jedi, filling the warrior with the completeness he sought.

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

 

[Mesh Zetnu]

Mesh Zetnu // Return of the Jedi // Strike Team Fel Rurik Fel Creuat // Outside the Sith Academy // Kill Sith
1x Bronze Lightsaber, 1 REC/STA-02 Advanced Shocktrooper Armour; Series Two, 1 Dark Khaki Over Cloak
​

Jedi do not fight for peace. That's only a slogan and is as misleading as slogans always are. Jedi fight for civilization, because only civilization creates peace. We fight for justice because justice is the fundamental bedrock of civilization: an unjust civilization is built upon sand. It does not long survive a storm.

Mesh felt the words of Master Mace Windu, as the group passed through the doors of the Sith Academy. An unjust civilization is built upon sand. It does not long survive a storm. For the Sith Empire, the storm had begun. The hand of the New Jedi Order would reach into Korriban and shake the very foundations of the Sith and their corrupt civilization. Here now, Mesh would not act alone or in solidarity, but with a thousand voices of the Jedi. Once again Mesh would open himself up to be a conduit to the power of Korriban. Dark Energy pulsed through him. He looked at his fellow Jedi Knight Creuat he had much respect for the man, despite only knowing him mostly through reputation. As he gazed upon him he felt the power of the dark side running through his veins. To face this darkness here without a conduit to the living force even if that force was corrupted was a task that Mesh did not wish to undertake. His conductive power greatly enhanced his own abilities and it gave Mesh confidence that they would make it through this trial. They would purge the Temple of Evil.

“Cautious, Mesh,” the Jedi forewarned his fellow Knight as he could sense a wave of the Dark Side flowing within him, “do not over indulge, especially in these grounds.”

Mesh looked at Rhis again. For a moment anger flashed through him and his eye glowed a dangerous yellow. No, he is right. Mesh forced his mind to calm and took control once again of the dark energy inside him. He used his ability in the force to calm his mind. Rage was a tool of the dark side. Anger was not what motivated the Jedi here. Do what must be done. That was the Jedi way. Take no emotion from it. He felt the calm and purposeful nature of the Jedi Knight beside him pulse now into him a connection he knew being made between the two of them through the powers of Battle Meditation. He must remember to thank The Warden if he ever got the chance. The power of Asmundr Varobalder was something to behold and now Mesh drew from its light to balance the conduit flowing within himself.

He heard the snap-hiss and before Jedi Knight Creuat 's emerald blade had fully ignited, Mesh had drawn his own saber to his hand and activated it. The Bronze glow ready to meet the horde of red in front of them.

We must destroy the Sith.

Apprentices most of them. He felt their power flow into him as he harnessed his lightsaber and prepared to combat the Sith with their own form. Juyo. This mission. Their mission was by most accounts a brutal one, but it was also one that Mesh was uniquely built for. His ability to draw power and energy from his opponent would now favor him in the mass melee that was to ensue. His ability to balance that form with a modest knowledge of Nimann would give him a large edge over the average pure Sith practitioner. He could sense their emotions as they came forward. Forward to meet their end.

 

[Leon Gallo]

The masters where aware of the Sith's presence well before Leon was. The Padawan only knew when he heard the snap-hiss of a saber and turned around. Just outside the small bubble of relief provided by Master Zoryu. a figure was stood. He was distorted and blurred by the sand, becoming a towering red figure. Though Leon couldn't tell that they were horn-like pieces to a helmet, the Sith's armor made him appear larger than he actually was. To the side of the Red-clad figure, the crimson glow of his lightsaber made it clear that he was here to fight.

“Hello, Jedi, 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?”

Leon awkwardly readied his own lightsaber, igniting it the moment it was turned away from his leg, rather than when it was off his belt fully. Thankfully, he managed to unclip the weapon half a moment later, avoiding cutting his own limb off. The Padawan assumed a ready position, the sapphire blade of his saber extending towards the Sith. Though only slight, the wobble of the tip revealed the uneasiness in his hand. The Young Jedi swallowed hard and tightened his grip on the red hilt of his lightsaber.

“Padawan Gallo. Do not falter and be wary. We need you.”

"Fear not what you cannot control, lad. Have faith in your training, trust your instincts."

"Padawan... I may require your assistance!"

Being so close to the source of the mind meld had some benefits. The words of encouragement from the three Masters he was supposed to protect were as much physical sounds to Leon as they were echoes within his mind. Such encouragement normally would have boosted Leon's confidence in himself, but with the Meld... A mixture of confidence, bravery, and calm flooded the Padawan's mind. He did not fear the fight. His hand steadied, the tip of his blade no longer dancing in a panic, but moving only in response to its master's breath and will.

"Well, I'm sure in better circumstances you'd be a magnificent host," Leon responded to the Sith's joke with all his newfound confidence. "But unfortunately, we don't have time to take a tour."

Every muscle in the young Jedi's body was prepared to strike the moment the Sith moved close. He may not be nearly as experienced as his foe, but at least he had spirit, and hopefully, speed on his side.

Allies; Jannik Morlandt Master Zoryu Asmundr Varobalder NJO AND GA
Enemies: Salamander TSE
Objective: Protect Masters​

 

[Bernard of Arca]

​

Objective: Sabotage the Academy
Foe: Darth Daiara
Jedi Strike Team Vos

\\ > Status Unknown​

Silent Running (On Dangerous Ground)

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

"Chit."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Equipment​

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

The sorcerers scampered away at the arrival of the Jedi, disappearing into the various side passages which lined the lateral walls of the chamber. Only the Jedi and the Sith were left now, but more important only Carnifex and Starchaser were left to stand off against one another. Each one stood on opposite corners of the room, and with Vulcanus in action, there would no one who would disrupt their battle this time.​

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Not like on Onderon.​

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"The Corpulent Lord has much wisdom to offer, Starchaser." Carnifex planted his foot on the altar, crushing the desiccated bones of the Jedi he had just sacrificed, using it as leverage to step completely over the altar stand on the other side. "But you will not find him with us here, he is busy gorging on the souls of every being who dies in these conflicts. Such death and destruction nourishes him and creates an invaluable collection for me." This would be the first time Carnifex had openly spoken about what he and Voracitos had engineered at the start of this conflict with the Jedi and the New Imperials, and it was designed to have a profound effect on how willingly the Jedi tossed away lives.​

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Not just the lives under their own command, but the lives of everyone caught up in their feud.​

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"A part of me worried you had grown too wise enough to resist the bait I had left for you, Starchaser, but I am pleased to see that you are as headstrong as always. Rushing to defend the Light without contemplating just how much Darkness stood in your path." Above them, the once-Emperor's sword began to silently move into position above the former Grandmaster of the Jedi. Its tip was angled straight down towards his head, ready to strike at a moment's notice.​

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"Let your death serve as a reminder."​

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The sword fell, wooshing down from the ceiling towards the Jedi Master, intent on skewering him from top to bottom.​

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Coren Starchaser | Ryv | Other Space Kaiden ​

 

[Aveline Cuiléin]

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

The soles of her booth hit the dry dirt beneath. From the soft grass on Kashyyyyk, by way of cold durasteel, she found herself on warm sands. Even the small fragments of it seemed to seethe with rage. An unwelcoming place. A darkness that need to be squashed before it consumed the galaxy.

Blaster bolts whizzed past her. A trooper on their left flank went down, the first ally to become a casualty. Bolts headed her way too, but she managed to parry and deflect them. She did not have the skill to send them directly back, but at least she kept herself and those close to her safe from harm. Fire was returned immediately. The exchange was deadly.

The Mind Meld... She could feel... United. It soothed her. It strengthened her. It didn't give her something she already didn't possess, she felt, but it helped her believe in herself. Helped her live up to her potential, as it was on this day. She thought... In a brief flash, as her body moved forwards and up the steps, lightsaber always active in her hands, she felt her mind wander and touch Takui ... Was such a thing even possible? She couldn't explain how or why, but she thought she could feel he was in danger.

What should have been a reaction of fear, instead turned to peace. She felt calm, assured. She had trust; in him and in the Force. Takui was stronger than he thought. If he really was in danger, she had faith that he would see it through to the other side. Would he ever feel her support? She did not know. They were on very different locations, far from one another. Yet they were in this battle together.

Reality returned quick, as mind and body reunited. Drawing upon the Force to aid her, she leapt upwards. A bolt hit where she had just stood a moment before, and another was swatted away in the air. She landed in front of a trooper. He was quickly cut down. She would contemplate his loss of life after the battle was over. Retrace her step. But this was the most dangerous place and combat situation she had ever found herself in. She could not save everyone.

Jax was pressing on, and he would soon be at the gates. She could feel it. Aveline did her part, parrying blows as she could, and when the rare opportunity presented herself she darted forwards and made her move. Even in the pits of darkness, within the deepest abyss, there was hope.

 

[Ruek Tast]

Allies: TSE
Opposition: Kir Dantos
Gear: Modified E-11 rifle, Sith-Imperial Legionnaire Combat Armor, vibro-hatchet, glop grenade x4, flashbang x2, incendiary grenade x2
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She rested her finger on the rifle's trigger and leveled the barrel toward a conglomerate of flora. Felucia. She'd never hunted here before, and the sniper-turned-mystic felt a ripple in the air's quiet. They weren't alone. Something lurked amongst the faint glowing brush, something calculating enough to follow them as far as the jungle outpost without being seen. Its predator's gaze had tripped the alarm of Ruek's sixth sense, yet the creature itself was like a ghost. No tracks, no scent, no thermal read, nothing. Could the shaman have been hallucinating? It would have gone over so smoothly with her peers. She could hear the officers laughing at her, see the black bucket heads shaking at her. The Legion was all Ruek had and was all she even wanted. Yet while she was tasked to guard the engineers she slipped deeper into verbal seclusion. It was on a bitter scale she weighed her options.

Leave the others to fate and allow the jungles to swallow them whole? She was no deserter.

Tell them yet be ignored once scans returned negative? She couldn't fake another psych eval after it.

Tell the engineers to be quiet so as to not attract attention? That she could do.

Ruek eased her posture from the rigid rifleman stance and backed a slow pace along the water tower's catwalk. It was an old one, in disrepair, and was slated for refurbishing. Tired groans and rusty clicks of the catwalk grates made Ruek curse them in muted worry, her silent walk meant for jungle floors and not manmade architecture. She paused at the stairwell, hearing the drop of a wrench as the engineer's worked. If she could have afforded moving them off the crowded tree line she'd have rolled her eyes, but she only clenched her jaw and kept watching, slowly descending the stairs. Boots touched weathered duracrete once she was at the base then she turned to address the workers.

Red painted the ground, a mural of violence stretched around the base of the water tower and filling the open junction box. Ruek's breath hitched in her throat. Above the remains of the contracted engineers was nothing but a maw, outlined in crimson, gnashing on an arm which then slipped down an obscured throat. All that was revealed was a blood-traced snout and the seam of a monstrous mouth which, Ruek realized, was pointed in her direction.

Tyűk kia nun, Nu prai!

The orison was given with a desperate inflection as Ruek bolted from the water tower. Feet pounded through the jungle as she ran faster than she had ever remembered. Fear. It was raw, stabbing into the fiber of her being as she fled. Whatever tore through the trees behind her was a predator evolved to the pinnacle of excellence. In a fleeting thought Ruek wished she knew its name so she could boast in the afterlife of being slain by such a predator unmatched. It was soundless, only the whipping of branches giving clue that it was pursuing. Her hand went down to the bandolier to her chest and snatched an incendiary grenade. Activating it she then lobbed it over her shoulder, not looking back as the beeping timer gave way to an explosion. A howling screech was heard as she continued to hurtle through the foliage. Then her view was dirt. Mud took up the visual in her helmet's lenses as her head was slammed into the ground. The creature had leapt and pinned its fleeing quarry, leaving Ruek only to claw at the ground and flail a fist at the hand or leg that held her helmet. What she could hit felt rough in texture, scaled and solid as stone. What she presumed to be a claw began to shove through her helmet's dome as if it were clay, and Ruek drew a final gasp.

A sharp whistle shot through the brush. Above she heard a snort and the wet clack of jaws closing, the heaviness shifting away from her head to her back then leaving altogether. She heard harsh tones spoken from what she thought to be her left. High Sith. The murk gurgled as she turned her head to see, and walking close was a Dathomirian robed in black and red. With a hiss he shooed off the beast, pointing in a direction away from them. From what Ruek could understand he told the creature to join "others," called it an idiot, then sighed as the monster left. He ambled to Ruek's side and looked down, "A mistake. Your company?"

Drawing her arms beneath her she pushed herself off the ground then to her feet. Suppressing the shock in her voice she answered slowly, "...83rd. I was dispatched for--"

"Doesn't matter. The 83rd? I saw the rest of them headed to the city. If you're in the mood for any more strolls, I'd go that way."

Ruek nodded then stumbled backward before catching herself, legs still unsteady from the chase. Any words she tried to form instead turned into a question, "What...what was it called?" The Sith turned back, brow furrowed, "Those?" He shook his head, "We didn't name them." He then turned then back into the jungle, leaving Ruek alone to listen as muffled artillery and explosions hummed from the city.

Without another word she stepped away as well, glancing down to the impression her helmet had made on the ground. She broke out into a jog. Already winded she pushed herself forward, finally meeting a small cache of legionnaires. Orders were given, orders that barely registered to Ruek as she tried to regain her mentality as a soldier. Ahead, an attachment of Galactic Alliance troops advanced with a Jedi at their helm. Rubble and a transport's skeleton became her nest as she took aim. She'd slipped into the fray with fervor wishing to sweep away the vestiges of fear she'd garnered. As her scope tracked the Jedi she melted into position, once more becoming the hunter instead of the hunted.

She took the shot, a green bolt lancing across the field to find its Jedi prey.

 

[Jax Thio]

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Location: Korriban, Sith Academy near the gates​

Equipment: Jedi Amor, Jax's Lightsaber​

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

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"Let's go!" "Kick ass!"​

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The Shocktroopers were just as eager as Jax to launch themselves into the fray of battle advancing as one of them received a blaster to the chest. Sith forces planted themselves near the entrance raining down blaster fire upon Jax, Aveline and the Shocktroopers. Small arms fire combined with mini flak cannons briefly obscured Jax's vision but with the power of the force he managed to effortlessly parry any attack that came at him. The Jedi was immersed in the force, not so much of a warrior defending the the Galactic Alliance he taught to serve but a conduit to which the force can breathe life into. With each blaster bolt Jax swatted away, managed to redirect it towards the shooter's head instantly ending their life. Jax was taught that death no matter whose side you're on is a tragedy.​

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Though Jax's view it was hard to contemplate that when one is engrossed in the thrill of battle it was what drove Jax to be immersed within the force. It's what kept him calm in battle guiding his lightsaber like a painter on a canvas, the slicing and dicing of soldiers foolishly trying to charge he and Aveline filled his heart with joy. It was that feeling that Jax found frightening, he was often haunted by the battles he fought but cannot get over the excitement of battle. War was his addiction and it was a quick decent into the Dark Side, it's something that Jax hoped that Aveline would not have to experience.​

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The Jedi looked up seeing more reinforcements coming out of the Sith Academy with a force leap, Jax decapitated a Sith soldier while immediately getting into a defensive stance blocking bolts at a rapid pace. He could sense Aveline being strengthened through a bond forged by friendship, it made more confident precise compared to her in the gunship. In a way it made Jax feel a little jealous that this friend managed to strengthened her in a way he couldn't a painful reminder of what a failure he has become in life. Perhaps the force was wrong and that Aveline and Jax were never meant to be Master and Apprentice. Sometimes it didn't feel like that.​

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"Master Thio!" A trooper shouted at Jax. "We got RPGs on the rooftops!"​

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3 Sith soldiers each armed with rocket launchers aimed directly at Jax and Aveline. "Aveline!" Jax shouted. "Pull back now!"​

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