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

[Teica Giraan]

[Location: G.A Frigate, Peacemaker . Bridge]
[Focus: Captain Teica Giraan]

The void ahead soothed her anxiety. Thoughts, which had originally been racing throughout the captain's chaotic mind, had grinded to a halt. The bridge had been quiet for around an hour now. The room filled with officers taking the time to get well deserved rest, even though they knew something had to be out there. A sharp voice cut through the air of quiet.

"Imperial ships in sensor range!"

Teica pushed herself to her feet. Terror began to fill her eyes, as it drove off her original feelings of serenity.

"Battle stations!" she nodded to the comms officer.

The frightened lieutenant patched the captain in to the ship's main channel.

"All hands, we have incoming, this is not a drill!"

The bridge officers ran around and dove into their seats, as the rest quickly punched in keys, and began to yell statuses to their superiors. Teica began to shiver, covered in cold, fear-filled air.

"Lock torpedoes on their lead ship, and fire turbolasers spread evenly among the rest!" she watched the gunnery chief lock on the targets ahead.

The Peacemaker's 10 dual barbette turrets let loose a wave of plasma. Then came the 4 quad turbolasers with another salvo. The bolts flew and crashed into enemy shields, as 4 charged at a super star destroyer. They went off, and showered the enemy ship in explosions. The salvos were aided by the squadrons of Alliance fighters that dashed along.

A salvo of Sith turbolaser bolts crashed into the Peacemaker's shields. The frigate fired back. Plasma continued to cut through debris-filled blackness. Captains, many hundreds of meters away from one another, exchanged fierce looks that waves of determination carried through the chaos of it all.

Teica continued a long stare at the viewscreen. There, she watched fighters being torn apart amidst fields of destroyed starships from both sides. Another wave of cold air passed over her.

 

[Lucien Dooku]

DUALITY_OF_ONE
[OUTSIDE]
KAL'ORITSOR | DRIP

---

---

It finally broke.

Though its effects had been dampened by circumstances out of the Jedi's control, the meld's effects had at the least kept him grounded to a degree. But with its fall, there was nothing left to anchor him away from the creeping darkness that was enveloping his thoughts. The figure that stood in his peripheral had grown bold, shifting its presence behind the Sith Lord who faced the full weight of his blade's assault. It stood there behind the man, casting that evil smile his direction and encouraging the darkness within his heart to come out.

Even as shards of the broken blade shot towards Luc, shattered as a result of the onslaught he delivered, the specter remained planted behind Sith, whispering words to entice him away from the light within his heart.

He leaped away from the Sith, but not before feeling the sting of flesh ripped apart upon his shoulder. Crimson liquid seeped from beneath the ripped fabric of his jacket; he appeared unfazed by it altogether, yet his attention had not even lingered upon the blood dripping down his arm after seeing the outcome of the Sith's combustion before his own two eyes.

The grin on his face no longer rested with excitement. His gaze swiveled away from the falling form of Auteme and once more stalked his opponent with the intent to kill.

He'd bring the Sith to ruin-- kill him by any means necessary.

"Good."

The voice whispered into his mind even louder.

"Kill him-- just like you killed me."

It continued, the familiarity within its tone causing his blood to boil even further.

The specter lingered behind the Sith was no longer unfamiliar to him. He let out a cry that bordered on releasing his emotions and despairing on the memories that flooded his mind.

He propelled into the air with the aid of the force, whipping his sword-hand forwards and sending Kal'oritsor flying towards the Sith Lord as a result. In truth, his focus had shifted towards the long dead Sith that had been shadowing Aurum the whole length of the fight.

"Stay dead you bastard!" He barked out, following the sword throw with that same hand being thrusted in both their direction. A wave of telekinetic force descended upon their general direction. The velocity of the sword throw was amplified as a result, but his primary goal had been to meet the Sith head-on with everything he had to offer.

Both of them.

Auteme Mato Kejak Marrow Lark
​

​

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: N E V E R _ S A Y _ D I E //:
//: Team Vos //: Zaavik Perl //:
//: TSE //: Gnox the Insatiable //: Vaylin //: Maple Harte //:
//: Infiltrate, Plunder, Destroy //:
//: Sith Academy //: Korriban //:

The pain from her padawan echoed in their connection. As much as she could, she did her best to ensure the Valor continued to pour into the boy. He needed to survive. If anyone was going to - it had to be him. Zaavik was more than just a padawan to the Corellian. Even if he didn't realize it, their lives had been more intertwined than either had expected. Allyson understood him, and because she understood - she cared. It scared her. It's why she had tried to run away, to leave him with Jedi that would be able to properly train him and give him the guidance he needed. ​

Allyson had seen their similarities and struggles - she didn't know if she was the right fit for him. Yet as time went on after she had returned from her mission in the Empire, she realized they were perfect for each other. Zaavik reminded her of the freedom she once had that she once felt when becoming a Jedi. He reminded her of why she put her neck on the line like she did. Was that the reason for padawans? Were they reminders for the Masters for why they chose the path they did? ​

Zaavik had to survive; he was the closest thing to a legacy the Corellian spy would ever get. He deserved to live and to see the end of this endless war; Allyson would do everything in her power to make sure of it. ​

The clash of the saber against the solid sword sent sparks theatrically around them. Allyson narrowed her eyes, feeling the sensitivity from the brightness of the blades coming together. The Force Valor opened the world around her, and Zaavik, Allyson, picked up on the movements of the Assassin she assumed to be out of commission. It seemed the woman was far more resilient than she had given her credit for. Allyson's saber pushed away, but the Corellian stabilized her footing. The shotgun sound echoed, and Allyson stepped back to avoid the blade sweeping at her stomach, but the sound of fabric tearing alerted her how close the Zaabrak had been to eviscerating her. ​

Her mind focused on the shots fired from the Assassin. The Force swelled at the palm of her hand, creating a burst countering the projectiles. Like the wind, the Force blasted the buckshot and flechettes back towards Maple. The woman was getting in the way, but after she was done with Vaylin, she'd turn her focus on the Assassin. If the woman knew what was right for her, she'd avoid having the Jedi's attention on her. ​

A little smirk spread across Allyson's lips as she shook her head. "I can't just make it that easy for you Vaylin, where's the fun in that?" Something caught her attention through the Force once more. The other entity that was fueling Zaavik had abandoned him. Just hold on a little longer, Zaavik. Allyson couldn't play with Vaylin much longer, not like she wanted to. She needed to get the Zeltron out of here, out of Gnox's way and the Assassin. ​

As the Hand stood before her, Allyson tried to think quickly; Vaylin was a better duelist than she was. Yet, there were always options for the scrap fighter. Allyson lunged forward with the azure blade as she did, the Force would swell once more for the Corellian, and she drew her opponent towards her. There was hope that it would throw the Hand off balance, giving Allyson a chance to strike. ​

//: Transmission //: Loske Treicolt //: Maynard Treicolt //: Eldaah Aderyn //:
//: YOU _ WERE _ SUPPOSED _ TO _ BE _ DIFFERENT //:

​

Buzzing echoed in her ear, the comms were suddenly alive, and Allyson heard an unfamiliar voice. The words that drowned into Allyson's mind shifted her heart in places she never expected to feel that shift. ​

<I admit disappointment, General Treicolt, Jedi Knight Treicolt>

<that you both decided to not come rescue the men and women that serve under you>

<after I gave you the invitation to come get them.> ​

The transmission came at the wrong time for Allyson. The last two people she ever thought to hear something like this about was them. Loske was different; she was loyal; she was supposed to ignite hope that the Jedi were better than this. Were the Jedi no better than the Imperials? No better than the Sith? Allyson felt sadness as her heart sank to her stomach while she heard the painful cries and echoes of those dying on Felucia, the ones that trusted Loske and Maynard to guide them to victory…​

To lead them back home - safely. ​

As she listened and attacked Vaylin, a voice once more echoed in Zaavik's mind. Run.​

 

[Ulrich]

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

It would be total lunacy to think that my first shot would manage to hit one so skilled as a jedi. Years to decades of martial training combined with superhuman reflexes and preternatural prescience made for a very difficult target to tag. As expected my feint was anticipated and dealt with in an almost surgical manner displaying none of the terror that a normal person would have at facing an opponent so much larger than them. What's worse was that the evasive maneuver the jedi employed far too close to the base of my wing for comfort. He didn't seem to have a lightsaber on hand but with force enhanced strength he could possibly cripple my ability to fly, eliminating one of my greatest advantages.

Instead of pressing the attack in a more straightforward way I opted to take the safer route. Coiling the muscles of my legs I pushed off from the sand unfolding my wings with a great beat to lift myself up from the ground till I was hovering around 50 feet in the air. For all my size and years as what was effectively a child soldier under the Mandalorians despots I was actually a scholar by temperament. The white haired warrior was going to far outmatch me when it came to sheer marital skill. If I wanted to touch him I was going to have to be creative with my toolset. For some reason telekinesis never seemed to work for me so that was out of the equation. In truth my repertoire consisted of summoning and animating only the most basic of undead creatures.

That might be all that was needed in the situation though. Zombies would likely be no real threat to the knight but they may well provide just the distraction I needed to get a hit in. Taking in a deep breath I began to chant the words to a spell.

" Pradzia nuyak grotthu zudyti tave jidai."

It was a short incantation and those beings that it brought up wouldn't last very long without frequent infusions of darkside energy which I wasn't willing to give at this time. I did have the advantage of the home turf on my side though. Rivaled only by Dathomir, Korriban was one of the most conducive places to raising the dead. Beneath the now shifting sands forms began to rise. Skeletal hands bursting through the surface as the earth disgorged some of the countless cadavers that lay buried within the valley of the dark lords. Even as I watched a small horde of corpses began to try and bite , scratch and grasp at the Jedi from bellow.

With that I executed the second part of my plan. Dropping down from above I would slam towards the Jedi with my forelegs trusting in the undead to hinder his movements somewhat. This could backfire horribly as were he to utilize the force he could probably create some kind of nasty and painful hazard where I was about to land. But fates willing he was too distracted by the grasping dead to mount an effective counterattack.

 

[Oceiros Sunstrider]

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

​

As if from thin air a spear manifested blocking Oceiros’ strike, caught off guard. Oceiros completed his flip feet touching the ground. Sorcery, he’d seen Carnifex use such abilities on Dantooine. Wincing the Jedi realized just what sort of foe he and Shaka were now facing. They’d need to be at their best if they intended on stopping the Sith Lord.

Raising his blade up, prepared to cast judgement down upon the Sith, they simply vanished once more into thin smoke leaving the two Jedi to look at each other. Cast from above was a shadow, glancing upwards Oceiros caught sight of Arctus plummetting towards the two.

“Do all Sith show off like this?” Lowering his azure blade back and behind his right leg, and his left foot stepping forward, Oceiros looked to Shaka. “You’ll know what to do.” He said barely above a whisper, letting the force connection between them carry the words to the other.

Inhaling, eyes closing Oceiros found the calm in himself, the calm in the storm that was Korriban. He need not use his own eyes, for through Shaka’s the epicanthix could see the spear piercing the air like a bolt of lightning. The darkside essence it leaked, the taint of Arctus marked it.

Releasing the held breath Oceiros’ blade rose up in an arc slapping at the side of the spear’s head. Knocked off course the weapon flew over the Jedi’s shoulder, biting into a bit of his cheek, and shoulder as it continued onwards into and through the roof of the temple. Pain blossomed from the fresh wounds, a crimson stream retreating down the side of the Jedi’s cheek, with more of his life aura leaking from a similar small wound on his shoulder.

Without stopping using the momentum from the deflection, Oceiros’ arm shot towards the sky and from the jumpsuit a grappling line extended to ensnare the Sith Lord’s feet. Using his own strength the epicanthix’s muscles flexed beneath the fabric as he yanked and pulled the Sith to turn his fall from a graceful one to belly first towards Shaka.

Directly Engaging: Arctus Silmar | First Sister
Allies: NIO | GA | Ryv | Coren Starchaser | Auteme | Lucien Dooku

 

[Loske Treicolt]

WOLFPACK | GHOST VIPERS
FELUCIA | KWAY TEOW OFFENSIVE
ARMOUR | LIGHTSABER
M I R A C L E

Her insides sunk.

There was merit to sticking to the mission, and if they were to prove anything it would be to those affectionately within the pack, not outsiders. But still, as they advanced on the perimeter, the cold, harsh warning contaminated her thoughts and numbed her senses.

<"You think this is right? I don't like weighing lives, not of my men but...we have a mission.">

Loske didn’t respond immediately to Maynard’s non-question and couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Instead, she watched the outline of armour ascend the wall and then out beyond into the glowing jungle where they’d been beckoned to. It seemed endless, hateful and wanting.

Bargaining lives was part of the job, it was just their duty to weigh the odds. At the end of the day, it was his duty solely. It wasn’t a choice anyone deserved to make or was qualified to given all their imperfections. He’d made the obvious decision and his question didn’t feel like self-doubt or regret. If that was the case, he might have opened up dialogue sooner. Loske found some marginal sense of solace in that, where his confidence didn’t waiver in the wake of consequence.

Quietly, on top of the wall, she considered the invitation and the possibility of responding and going without him. She could call the Sith’s bluff and seek them out on her own, but instead, she made the selfish choice to honour her commitments to stay the course with him. Through governments, missions, trials and tribulations, her place was by his side. Finally, she returned his look.

<We’ll make it right.> She gave a final nod before touching down on the other side, immediately falling into the position they’d predetermined for the siege. To draw the city’s defences’ attention away from the 104th flooding the streets, deluges of fire from Wardaddy’s artillery erupted around the gate and the surrounding curtain wall.

The streets were mostly clear of Alliance supporters and innocent civilians, having been evacuated or secured a day or so earlier. The majority of opposition they met en route to the first military target within the city were armoured Sith Legionnaires or other Sith-Imperial supporters.

None of them paused in their attacks against the Wolfpack when the Moff’s voice flooded the sound systems.

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

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

Dodging a blaster bolt that fired over her right shoulder and scorched into the streets, her voice dipped into an inaudible grumble: <Where the feth is Djorn Mr.-covert-operations-sabotage-I-was-made-for-the-shadows-Bline.>

She swapped to the channel shared with the Imperial 71st legion: <Hey, Diamond Snake –– Get those comms down!>

Another riposte was fired in her direction, the dark-armoured trooper rapidly approaching with a steady trigger finger that Loske deflected with an efficient arc of her blade. It’s own fire returned back in a one-two peppering against their helmet and chest.

<"Treicolt, we'---ambushed!">
<"Do not -inforce! Kee-- vancing!">

An ambush? Loske’s face paled.

More men to gamble lives with — at least these men were under Vizsla’s command. His resolve in battle was stronger than any allegiance he held to a government. That did mean though, they’d have to keep an eye on their rear. If they were losing men in the trees, Dune’s company could be at risk.

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

Abject horror was all she felt.

Fingers found their way to her parted lips, and she covered the 'o' that had been made from shock. She felt a chill, like a physical sensation, as if her blood had actually congealed vertebrae by vertebrae down her spine. Loske was fast coming distraught and made no concentrated effort to conceal her dismay in that bond that tied her to Maynard.

Thunder clapped behind her breastbone and she remained silent and tightlipped, staring unblinkingly at the space where the transmission taunted. The woman’s silhouette demanded they bear witness to the treachery of the planet, and all Loske could do was be grievously quiet at the defamation of the Treicolt name and watch in horror at the slaughter.

<That manipulative queen.> She finally managed, snapping back to her senses. Inaction wouldn’t help them here, despite how frozen she felt. Her commentary moved back to a wider channel. <Can we triangulate the source of this message? This Ancient Abyss?> She recalled Frank mentioning it before they’d even landed on the planet; it was a place of ceremonial sacrifice.

Not the greatest of omens.

<We’re working on that now.>

<Good. Once you get them, load them into drones for an attack on the location. See if they have long-range comms with artillery for a coordinated orbital strike.>

“She can’t go unanswered.” Loske said by way of explanation to her husband, just short of wincing “Besides, mission maintained and we’re here to destroy, right?”

"You may believe this world pacified, that capturing Kway Teow will result in some victory, but you do not understand this planet," she stated. "Settlements and cities are not the true centers of power. Taking them only means you are surrounded by the jungle. And the jungle... is eternal."

The Force exhaled a corrupted tremor, and Loske felt a trill of apprehension course through her. She was still afraid of her involuntary reactions, and the darkness that breezed through the planet beckoned a release she wasn’t sure she could control.

It was the only warning she received before a puddle erupted into a green, blubberous form that ensnared around her ankle. She yelped in surprise and thudded against the ground as it dragged her away from her original position. The area it wrapped around burned madly through her armour.

<We have the coordinates locked into drones retasked from the 41st company. They’re deployed and en route.>

Too busy the giant flubber, Loske didn’t verbally respond to the message. She swung deftly at the humanoid shape, severing the connection between her leg and it’s wet grip. It split from the impact, the smaller end of it wriggling animatedly while Loske crab-crawled backward and the creature continued to press forward, seeking to ensnare once more. It met a Force bubble from the Jedi, one of the only tricks she was comfortable with doing that didn’t trigger a larger eruption of power, that constricted and constrained the two entities that thrashed wildly within their compressed container.

An eruption of shouts broke out to her left as bat-like creatures dipped in and out of striking range. Many were plucked from the sky by the Wolves shooting through their bellies.

Further away, and she could only really hear it through the comms, a sergeant was transmitting exact coordinates to Captain Raith for support via a danger close bombardment.

It felt like the precipice of total carnage, and emotions spiked throughout the city. Dread encircled the area as much as the wildness of Felucia did.

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

Grunting, the barrier she’d constrained around the gooey shapes blasted backward and away with a telekinetic push, and she scrambled to stand upright again.

<This is feeling less right,> Loske admitted, modifying her original assurance. Her emotions were like a tempest, priorities fading in and out of visibility. Sort of felt like the game had changed around them, with the jungle retaliating under the control of Sith.

<May, I love you, and I’m gonna stick by your decisions here but I am this close to obliging that woman’s invitation just to kill her myself. Something tells me those drones aren’t going to do the trick.>

​

The statement was bold, given her unease of self –– but if it meant protecting his conscience and saving him from dealing with consequences, she'd manage whatever necessary.

ALLIES | GA | NIO | Maynard Treicolt // Kir Dantos // Djorn Bline // Aerarii Tithe // Captain Raith // Top Bishop
ENEMIES | TSE | Eldaah Aderyn // Karn Zhakul // Madelyn Lowe // Ruek Tast ​

​

 

[Creuat]

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

S A N D M A N​

Onward they went, as Rurik said.

This Academy would be outright purged as the Man of Iron vanquished a Sith Acolyte and later a Sith warrior with more renown than their lesser peers. Rhis’ skills with a lightsaber was more proficient than these swarms of Acolytes as well as the Force. These disciples of the Sith were just cannon fodder, chattel separated from the wheat. It was the truth, despite sounding so harsh about it. It would be a massacre within this academy with bodies littered about, but that would be a splendid sight to behold by the Sith. Or was he wrong to presume so? Even with such carnage and death, it was something to embellish the powers of the Sith. Such fear, anger, and hatred that was emitted within these halls was a gluttony for them to indulge in. A tempting source of power, but only the weak was trapped by such greed.

The Nautolan had no pity in striking down these fiends, for they were no longer whom they once were. They were just mere vessels for an entity that craved superiority and absolute dominance with little restraint. While determined and focused in this crusade, he didn’t find any pleasure in this slaughter. With Asmundr Varobalder it was easy to not succumb to those thoughts.

Suddenly another Sith Acolyte approached the Jedi Knight, eager for combat as he was guided by his raw emotions. Another body to join the fallen Sith. So be it.

I shall do what I must.
​

A simple push with the power of the Force was hurled at the Acolyte, wary him down to make him weak. Young and strong he was, and strong with the Dark Side he was; but not that strong. Rhis cut down another approaching Acolyte as he walked towards Kaze.

And then suddenly...

...the cold.
​

He felt uncomfortable when a wave of decadence crept up his skin. Little did he realized that he was no longer protected by the battlemeld created and sustained by Asmundr. It was like the gates being knocked violently by this dark energy he vowed to destroy, wanting to be let in and torment him. Unsurprisingly, they pried at his emotions knowing that they were the greatest weakness to any Jedi. They whispered to him, a symphony of voices pressuring into his mind.

Use my knowledge, I beg you...

If only you knew the power of the Dark Side...

Your feeble skills are no match for the power of the Dark Side...

“Do not listen to them!” he shouted at his allies with desperation in his voice. He knew he wasn’t the only one feeling this sensation, this cold. He was concerned, and most of all concerned for Mesh that this surge of the Dark Side would overwhelm him.

He focus returned to the Sith Acolyte as he approached the man with intention of killing him with his blade. A swift slash was made Kaze’s torso, hoping to end the Sith with that swift attack.


ALLIES | NJO | Rurik Fel | Mesh Zetnu
ENEMIES | TSE | Kaze (ENGAGING)

 

[Master Zoryu]

HERALD OF HOPE
THE NEW JEDI ORDER | STRIKE TEAM SHAN

​

The redoubled efforts of Master Zoryu had proven to be effective - thus far. The bubble of light that encased Jedi Strike Team Shan shimmered brightly, nearly obscuring the darkness beyond entirely. Unfortunately, though, the old Jedi could only keep the darkness around them at bay, providing the battle meditators with enough Force energy to stave off the feelings of dread that lay beyond his shield. He could not prevent Asmundr's resolve from being shaken by the powers waging war beyond their position. He could hear the colossal Jedi struggling somewhere behind him but did not dare to break his concentration again. Darkness has a way of creeping in through the smallest cracks...​

It was then, as the thought entered his head, that all seemed to go quiet in the Force. The battle meld was shattered. 'Asmundr...' he said telepathically but received no response, just a feeling of dread. With great effort, Zoryu let the lightstaff crash into the ground. The shield flicked for a moment and faded, allowing the wind to whip around them again. He turned, leaning heavily on the wooden staff that still glowed faintly with resonant energy. "Asmundr," he said aloud, taking a few steps forward, "steel yourself we have no ti-"​

Something was behind him.​

​

The wizened old man whipped around to face the presence. Beyond the sight of ordinary men, Zoryu could see a great darkness rearing up in the ether like a beast, unchained and at its center was a human woman. Though she was not entirely human. The shadows that he perceived around her were a manifestation of the powerful connection this new arrival had to the Dark Side of the Force. She was a Sith and of that much, he could be certain, which meant that Asmundr, in his current state, was in grave danger. The Master Jedi pulled the lightstaff across himself defensively as his free hand went to his waist to firmly grasp the hilt of his saber. The staff in his hand gave off a white glow that warmed Zoryu and he felt the aches in his old bones leave him.​

"This is not the place for you, Jedi. Leave, now, while Korriban may still let you. I will not pursue."

​

She was very certain of herself and certain that she would drive them the Sith homeworld, but the Jedi had no intention of leaving. The corner of Zoryu's mouth curled slightly into an almost imperceptible smirk and he cast his bright blue eyes down to the ground. What he saw shocked him far more than anything the Sith could have done at that moment. Something perplexing and remarkable was happening and none of them had even realized. In the seemingly barren dirt beneath their feet, at the visible boundary of where the shield of light had made contact with the ground, a thread of green was grasping desperately toward the heavens.​

​

The delicate shock of green in an ocean of brown and black was less than an inch high. Zoryu had no way of knowing if the budding plant had been there all along, but its vibrant color told him that in the short time the Jedi had been there, in the haven of light that he had produced, the balance on Korriban had shifted. A feeling of hopefulness washed over him light a breeze off the ocean, cool and clear and bracing. He took it in, let it fill his lungs and stretch out through his limbs to the tips of his toes and fingers. Carefully, Zoryu stepped over the sapling and his eyes rose to meet his adversary's gaze.​

"No," he said calmly with a smile, "the Jedi were invited here, unlike you. The planet that the Sith have held hostage for centuries sings to us. Korriban longs to be released from this dark spell placed upon it." Zoryu's calm tone took on a resonance of authority as he gestured at the terrain sprawling out around them. His expression was warped with concern as if he could hear Korriban's song even now. They were standing a fair distance from the other members of Strike Team Shan and the storm had continued to relent. "We have come to cleanse this place and all who dwell here, to break the chains of the Sith once and for all," his grip tightened on the lightstaff, "go back to your masters! Retreat into the void that wrought your unholy power and warn them of the coming dawn."​

​

"Or stay and be purified by it," the Master Jedi's hand left the hilt of his blade as he drew up to his full height. In a fluid motion, the lightstaff, grasped with both hands now, twirled in a blur of pale light before coming to rest held out at Jedi's side. The impact of the staff on the ground made a sound much louder than expected as a wave of Force energy cascaded forward in a semicircle, sweeping dust and debris in Cara's direction. At precisely the same moment as the impact, a loud hiss heralded the ignition of Zoryu's pale blue saber. He had hoped to avoid direct conflict on Korriban, lest it complicate their mission, but he would strike down any who stood in their way.​

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

 

[Shaka Sunstar]

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

​

From some unknown font of power, the Sith Lord drank to gain the powers to hold his sapphire blade at bay. Shaka could not say that he was surprised, but some part of him had hoped that at least one of their strikes from the combined effort would at least give cause to slow the Sith in his movements.

But, it was for not.

Shaka lost sight of him, vanished in thin air.

Through the meld he gleaned through Oceiros' own sight that Arctus Silmar had teleported above them.

"Mm." He grunted in response, his eyes taking a moment to glance across the roof. There had been two.

Two who were on the roof before they engaged the Sith.

And then he saw them.

As the Padawan fired off the grappling line, Shaka's sprung past him -- towards the shape of the structure that the Sith Priestess continued her ritual.

He'd be blind to ignore the ritual that occurred directly beneath him. He'd be a fool if he let all those that were sacrificed across the planet in this mass Sith ritual die. He drew on the meld while it suffered under the strain of all the Strike Teams. He drew from the meld, the experience of Ryv and Coren Starchaser in fighting the Dark Side. He drew on the font of knowledge that was Auteme . He drew on the creator of the meld, Asmundr Varobalder and those who maintained it with him to see the Darkness that Korriban bathed in.

From Lucien Dooku he drew his sense of righteousness and his will to do good. Even in the face of his peers seeking to undermine the likes of the Galactic Alliance, the Warlord of Nirauan had stood against an element of his own nation to not let the saboteur's succeed in their operation of disrupting the Alliance diplomatic efforts. Were it not for the Exiled Count's counsel at the top of their Commander structure, how far would the New Imperials had fallen? He drew from his friend and all that he felt, a rage that was tempered by the experience of others and his own. Abrupt, but managed.

The Lord Executor was drawn from. Rurik Fel , a veteran in combat, and the leader of the Imperial Knights. They had fought in the same theatre on Dantooine. Shaka respected his skill with a blade, and all he felt was the persistent sensation of his tempered rage. The Master's will filling his own senses as the Thyrsian was suddenly brought to a pause, halting as he took stock.

The emotions he felt were strengthening, none came as a stranger to him. And as the meld was cut, he indulged. His right hand lurching forwards with the imbuing feelings of so many other Jedi. The rush of the Dark Side against his senses held at bay, the force imbued plates of armour that encased his body protecting him from the oppressive planet as he drew from himself.

His own hardened purpose, discipline, drilled into him from years of both Thyrsian, Echani upbringing coupled with a Jedi Battlemaster's strict regimen, the mold that held it all together. In his mind's eye, he could see his Master in his hut on Tython, smiling on him after a long day of training. Passed in the Force, Shaka's hand reached the pinnacle of its outwards thrust.

The sense of dread, of darkness pressed on him, oppressive. It sought to draw out the fears and angers that were buried. That he used to fuel his combat, that bubbled below the surface seeking exit now that the barrier of sanctity of the meld was gone.

His gloved fingers splayed out.

The emerald lightning crackled as it lanced through the sand that flew around them. The sporadic, but directed flares of light cutting swathes through the sandstorm, barely impeded as it illuminated the Jedi Knight in green. The underlying scent of burnt ozone could've been smelled, with an underlying stomach turning taste, as if the Electric Judgement had burned through the corruption of the Dark Side itself that surrounded them.

The lightning guided by his hardened sense of Justice. It flew right into the side of the pedestal First Sister performed her ritual with a singular intent.

Destruction.

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

 

[Kaleleon]

Objective 2
Allies: Ripley Kühn | Kat Decoria |
Enemies: Onrai
Gear: Linked in Sig.​

From the words of the fellow Jedi, I made it to the party just in time I suppose. What was nice, is that with having two minds over that of a single individual, It would likely be easier to take down this Sith. Whomever she was. While the smile upon my face was hidden underneath the helmet, it was very much audible that I was in fact, smiling from ear to ear.

"Can't do introductions now Sith, But you and I must tango."

As was with an object being suddenly thrown at us, It was handed of quick thinking, and action that allowed me to rather easily form a final bubble around this item. I had no clue what it was. Bomb, snaring device, weapon? Either way, it was captured by this violet transparent field and altered of its tragectory to be flying off of the roof-side I had just come from. A thrown item such as this, was no match for blood darts flung by Balsitikinesis. It was a tempting item attempting to get us.

"You're mine."

Directly pointing to the Sith. Speaking as though this attack suddenly made it personal. No longer would this woman, who I could only suppose was a Master of the force, be facing Knight Kuhn. Closing off my mind to any forms of distractions, Also preventing forms of mental manipulation or sensory abilities of what I may perform in the next bit, I waved to Knight Kuhn. As though to say Goodbye.

"Take the objective."

She would know that my attempts to stand here would be at best, a stalling tactic to prevent this Sith Lady from hindering our operation. Best case scenario, I could capture this lady for questioning. However, I doubted, to the extreme degree, that she would come willingly. Bracing forward the shield in my left hand, My right formed a fist that held nothing but air. Getting into a shockboxing stance taught to me by my mentor Romi Jade.

"Ladies First."

 

[Taysonyl Callenid]

Dracken Pryce Olen Halcorr Daz Farlander Teica Giraan | Alex Locke Qell Auraeli Frea Sheplin | Darth Athora
​

Something had to be coming.

Something. Anything, right? There'd been fighting here for a month, so why wasn't there fighting now?

Tay couldn't sleep. Instead she stayed up, playing sabacc in the hangar of the Ouroboros. Vanguard being assigned to the flagship of Battlegroup Kenobi should've ensured that they'd see action. Instead most of their time here was on the off hours for patrol duty while the other pilots were getting some rest. So nothing. Nothing for a month.

The flight officer across from her, Zat, won again with an Idiot's Array. She was pretty sure he was switching out his cards whenever he pulled his seat a little closer to the table but she wasn't in the mood to fight him about it. The others passed their few credits over. Tay grumbled, resting her cheek on her palm. Should've been hanging out with the others. She wished she was back at Nissin Cup with Qell, or racing with Frea, or even just chilling with Alex.

An alarm went off, somewhere, then there was a call for Vanguard to get on shift. She glanced out into the void, finding the tiny white specks that were the Ouroboros's X-wings on their way back. She shrugged and grabbed her helmet.

Her own ship was an REC-AI01 A-wing Interceptor, brand-spankin'-new. Enough time in the sims and in patrol flights had given her a good grasp of the controls, though; given Vanguard's rookies were mostly naturals with top-notch reflexes, she thought it was a good fit. Plus, going a little faster than an X-wing was always a bit more of a rush. It'd already been refueled and got its maintenance done.

Tay climbed on up and into the pit, doing the usual flight checks. Her CO and the rest filed in soon enough, but for now she just sat in the A-wing, wondering if she'd have the chance to die today.

Something had to be coming, right?

 

[Darth Vird]

KORRIBAN
Somewhere on Korriban's Surface​

​

Darth Vird now expands his concentration into all of the enemy ships in orbit and is delighting in the irony that not even his old apprentice, Darth Achema could have this much power. He laughed harder than he ever had before at the site of his enemies being nearly destroyed. But little did he know there was going to be an interruption by a Jedi, who was there to stop him.

Eslo Anderson

 

[Ripley Kühn]

:// POST 5 | OBJECTIVE 3 //:
:// LOCATION: SITH HANGAR //:
:// ALLIES: GA | Kaleleon //:
:// ENEMIES: TSE | Onrai //:
: // EQUIPMENT: ARMOR | LIGHTSABER //:​

It was only a split second between the object being throw and Kale stopping it in its tracks, but Ripley squinted, trying to make out what it was. It kind of looked like… a blanket? She couldn’t be sure. The other Jedi took care of it, flinging it out of sight. ​

​

​

I waved to Knight Kuhn. As though to say Goodbye.​

​

"Take the objective."​

​

​

​

Ripley’s resolve faltered a bit at the command. Did he really expect her to leave him here? Alone, to face a sith lord and an army of droids? The reasoning followed, understanding the necessity of it. She had to get to those ships for the entirety of their forces to have a chance at making it off Korriban. Still, she hesitated. She didn’t know him personally, but it seemed like suicide. After a few moments, she nodded, accepting that duty must come first. ​

​

“May the force be with you.”​

​

Slowly, she backed away, lightsaber still raised until she came to a door. With one last glance stolen at the pair, she exited through, coming into a corridor. Her weapon fell to her side, blade still extended, waiting for the next enemy as she made her way through. ​

​

Suddenly, she was overcome. Anger, sorrow, crippling pain assaulting her senses. She cried out, a foreign sound pouring forth from her throat. Staggering, she leaned against the cold wall, trying to keep her knees from buckling. The meld was shifting, the peace giving way to chaos. Her own mind bumped against others, emotions shifting with each movement in her head. Abruptly, it stopped. The knight heaved, trying to regain composure. Where there was once a shining beacon of light, there was now nothing; the meld had been severed, and she was left alone to battle the dark tendrils that slithered forth from the shadows.​

 

[Onrai]

Vanessa was immediately frustrated as the blanket went out a window and landed God knew where. That particular blanket was one of the comfiest she had ever created. “You threw my blanket away.” She said. “You took an extraordinarily comfy and fuzzy blanket and threw it into Gods know what kind of muck or filth.” She sighed, arms crossed. “Well, now that you’ve offended the goddess Onrai, clearly I have to do something about you.” She said, arms uncrossing as her hand opened to reveal something she had taken from one of Mikhail Shorn’s abandoned stashes many years ago: a Phrik ball bearing, one of one thousand that the Thronebreaker had crafted and put to effective use many moons ago. She had a portion of them, though not all, as a few hundred had remained with Shorn, and felt now was presumably as good a time as ever to put it to use.

“the question is what to do.” She said, fingering the bearing between her thumb and forefinger. “You know, this little tidbit’s worth a nice sum to the right person. Would you like to have it? An old associate of Jacen Cavill had it many years ago.” She provided a bit of exposition, recalling the time she had spent mastering Shorn’s art. Only now as a goddess did she have any potential of doing the same as him at his most powerful, a testament to the extraordinary skill that Mikhail had been blessed with.

“How about a deal? If you can take this ball bearing from me, you can have it.” She smiled, waiting to see what his response was. Silently she considered whether or not to manifest another shape where Ripley Kühn was going - no, she would wait for the Jedi to get closer to her objective. This non-limited thinking still took some getting used to.

 

[Kenth Ordo]

Y O U _ D O N T _ K N O W _ T H E _ P O W E R
NEW JEDI ORDER
OBJECTIVE III: WAVE OF PURITY | POST VI
EQUIPMENT: LIGHTSABERS | BATTLE ARMOUR
VALLEY OF THE DARK LORDS
ENGAGING: Dimitri Voltura

His gaze was stoic as he watched his only allies sprint away from his as he commanded them to, a perfidious feeling proliferating throughout his senses as he heard the voices speak in his head.

Your friends are jealous of you...they abandoned you...

They're scared of what you've become...a monster...

Those responsible are still near...

Kenth turned to face his opponent just as he was tackled by a vicious tuk'ata, the man grunting when he hit the ground with an unceremonious thud, the beast attempting to maul his armoured gauntlet. His lightsabers were once again knocked out of his hands, landing teasingly close to his free arm. As if that was not enough, he felt dark tendrils reaching into his mind in an attempt to corrupt him even further, not that it was possible given he was playing host to the spirits of ancient Dark Lords of the Sith.

He was afraid.

He was angry.

He hated this.

The veins near his eyes began to bulge, turning a midnight black as his hands crackled dangerously with azure electricity. An explosion occurred, radiating outward from the Padawan currently pinned down on the ground, arcs of Force lightning and dark energy blinding even him as it rushed to consume whatever it could. Every tuk'ata on and near him died almost simultaneously, their bodies erupting in a shower of viscera that evaporated into thin air before it could even hit the ground.

In the blink of an eye, Kenth Ordo was standing once more, both lightsabers in his hands and activated as he glared at the Sith Lord before him. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" He roared, running at him and bringing the blades down in an attempt to cut him down where he stood. There was no form to his attacks, they were savage and crude but held hate and intent to kill behind them. He wasn't concerned with surviving, he didn't care about any of the others.

He wanted this overgrown parasite to die.

Karn Syndulla | Takui | Asmundr Varobalder | Zark San Tekka ​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

T H E _ W O L F
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
104th MARINE BATTALION 'WOLFPACK'
Armor [ 104th Skin ] | Concord Brawn | Lightsaber

COME AND SAVE ME
​

This was a gauntlet, an enlisted set of trials more tolling than anything fronted toward him before. And of course, all on his grand return to command. Kway Teow all seemed to be a torture show aligned to prod at his psyche. All while it might have been at its weakest.

He got good men killed on Yinchorr and wasn't even there to reconcile the defeat, being captured, stunned from the fray.

He'd thought he'd doused those flames, silenced those ghosts with the vote of affirmation to his arrival back at the head of the Pack.

Those hopes were dashed in bloodied fury in these luminescent forests of foreboding flora. The jungle as it was so endearingly declared by the Sith over the broadband commo.

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

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

The wording was targetted. Making explicit mention of Treicolt, his soldiers.

Where it struck irony was that it'd only be just now that the Alliance would see consequences for their intervention in the war against the Sith when they'd been along since the start, choosing only to reciprocrate as soon as they arrived in force proper was an interesting task.

All he had to remember was so long as the Sith were here, impeding him, they could not be there. Korriban, or any where else projecting their depraved rule.

He had to walk and prevail this broken path laid before him. There was no time to reel back in indecision, let that doubt fester and congeal from the dark corner of his mind that Maynard had cast it away in-exile to.

The Sith might have been iron and thus, it would never bend. It would never be swayed into a surrender or brought to the table under reasonable course of action.

It had to be broken.

<"Sir-."> 'Molfmother' relayed through, he was hearing it, everyone was hearing it.

<"What is it?"> Maynard replied, a tinge of bitterness dousing his inflection.

<"It's- you're hearing this right?"> He continued and so too did the music. The music General Treicolt had to face.

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

"You may believe this world pacified, that capturing Kway Teow will result in some victory, but you do not understand this planet,"

"Settlements and cities are not the true centers of power. Taking them only means you are surrounded by the jungle. And the jungle... is eternal."

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

But in the fray of the butchering, one of the troopers was able to spit out his gag, a blade forced through his gut he screamed out in agony before speaking defiantly.

"Give 'em hell, Wolf Pack! Every last one of th-" Then that fiery voice was snuffed out with the thrust of a jagged dagger to the neck.

Where lost was frozen in horror, Maynard was ignited in hatred. What had every right to be a straight forward op had been melted down and pounded into this sick game.

<"Everyone's hearing this, General. Everyone..."> Whatever move he made here, amplified. Loske Treicolt and Seydou of Thyrsus were a given...but this folded in Ryv , the New Jedi Order as a whole at that. He'd always been the odd man out to an extent, the Jedi Code was not the gospel he vowed to, he respected its ideals but he all in all was his own man, his own values.

If he failed to uphold his more military centric approach to his Creed, he'd have little in the way of merit to look toward in its wake.

<"Yeah- I understand that."> Maynard replies, that bitterness in his tone fully setting in. That crushing envelopment of the situation offered its cold and foreboding embrace to the Jedi Knight.

He wanted to ignore all of it, pursue this sole aim...then she spoke up again, after musing in her discontent all the while he continued the advance.

<This is feeling less right,>

<May, I love you, and I’m gonna stick by your decisions here but I am this close to obliging that woman’s invitation just to kill her myself. Something tells me those drones aren’t going to do the trick.>

<"It's a trap."> He says, in no effort to deflect her, if only to mouth the realization aloud.

<"Shit..."> He says through gritted teeth.

<"We've started working a trace...if I may, General?">

<"Shoot.">

<"None of this sits right...not with me, not with anyone else in the Pack. We'll carry the fight on Kway Teow, at your orders but...if we have to keep hearing this shit..."> The Marine sounded off from the other side of the commo, breathing a deep, wary breath.

<"I know. I'm ending it. Keep up the assault, get a unit out to relieve Viszla, get him at the reins of command, keep a bridge to Captain Raith and his unit, don't let up at all."> Maynard ordered decisively. His gaze then fixed to Loske beside him before he relayed his next statement to his command squad Wolf Pack, switching from command frequencies to GADF proper. They all had to know where he was going, the decisiveness of his resolve. They needed to know he wasn't abandoning them, but sending a message in return.

<"Outrider Squadron is hitting the Abyss. Whoever is running the show is getting their scalp delivered to Kaas by the end of the night, Treicolt out."> Bait, trap, whatever it was, Maynard was snatching right unto it. He could only hope the aces were in their places enough to manage the assault with out him.

He anticipated they'd do just fine.

<"Understood, may The Force be with you, General.">

<"Thank you- keep the war machine turning...send me the frequency spitting out this garbage...and Wolfmother, don't give em the chance to breath easy, keep pressing this filth."> The outright vitriol toward his lack of control then shifted to that of the enemy itself.

All the while, each passing moment enveloped him more and more into the horrors of Felucia, the wicked and depraved beasts conjured in the grotesque Sith spawning of the Eternal.

Each new foe was another challenge to endure, another opportunity for Maynard to prove to himself, to everyone else that he would endure.

His cobalt blade rarely met another rest since he ignited in the first place, cuts, swipes, lunges and slashes of the Jedi's weapon alighting any beast they tangled with and it was then that the weight of The Swarm began to register. It would be this...until they were gone. And there was no truth in telling when that would be.

GADF command estimated Kway Teow would be the lynchpin, those hopes were thwarted now a month into preconceived plans. But planning rarely survives enemy contact and certainly not of this nature.

Inoculating what remained of his fear, he swallowed deeply, shut his eyes briefly before opening them once more in continuing the advance.

Then, he opened the line to Eldaah Aderyn .

<"Your first mistake was assuming that I gave a damn that your world be occupied, Sith."> He states.

<"I'm here to make you all burn.">

Then he cut it once again.
​

Maynard taunts through the commo to the Sith, all the while, he presses onwards as the Wolf Pack continues its assault even if tactics and doctrine relating to battling the Sith Troopers and their overlords eventually went to the way side of desperate adaption to the monsters the Jungle around them conjured up.


<"Any ping on her location? Soon as we have it, I want exfil, closest we can manage. Maybe your COMPNOR friend can tap in and get a look through their eyes."> He says to Loske, referring to Djorn Bline with another sting of bitterness in his tone.

THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
Loske Treicolt | Seydou of Thyrsus | Top Bishop | Captain Raith | Kir Dantos | Aerarii Tithe | Djorn Bline

THE SITH ETERNAL
Eldaah Aderyn | Karn Zhakul | Madelyn Lowe​

 

[Eslo Anderson]

KORRIBAN
Somewhere on Korriban's Surface

​

Sees Lightning in the sky, Eslo jumps to meet the man who made him lose everything, Darth Vird The man he hated for over 12 years. Now he can have justice for all the things Vird had done to him. He then ignites his blade.

​

And heads toward Darth Vird and thinks Justice will prevail and rightly so.


Darth Vird

​

 

[Marrow]

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

She was gone, for now, but not dead. Scorched or just a bit battered? Impossible to tell, but either way he had an opportunity.

Before he could press it, however, the angrier of the Jedi surged forward with renewed vigour, unimpeded by a few bleeding wounds and the loss of his comrade's assistance - if anything, he seemed almost stronger, but then that might very well be the case. Anger was power, doubly so on the dunes of sacred Korriban and triply so with its ancestral spirits up in arms, calling for blood and destruction.

Even partially misdirected as that anger was, its sheer ferocity battered past Aurum's coldly methodical guard, telekinetic force battering into him even as that fascinating blade cut through his robes and part of whatever lay beneath, drawing a single grunt from the Golden Magus.

Drawing back only to dance in circles around the Jedi, Aurum fell into the rapid fluidity of Makashi, utilising the superior speed so characteristic of lightsabers for all it was worth, aiming for grazing hits and the slow death that followed over a single decisive blow.

"Your anger makes you strong, Jedi, but not strong enough. You can't protect her, let alone the others dying elsewhere."

 

[Leon Gallo]

This Sith seemed polite, at least. As he stepped out of the storm, Leon finally got a decent look at his foe. For a moment, Leon thought he was looking at someone without skin. The armor Messala wore looked like all those diagrams Leon had seen during his schooling, of muscular systems throughout the galaxy. Leon took brief note of the Sith's two weapons: a lighstaber with a hilt curved much like his own, and a sword. The sword was probably able to withstand a lightsaber, since Leon doubted a Sith would willingly bring one that couldn't to fight a Jedi.

"Leon Gallo. You know, the Storm made you look taller."

Unfortunately, the Padawan couldn't delay the fight with talk. The Sith surged forward, attacking with his lightsaber. Leon sprang forward in response, parrying the strike. In the brief exchange of blue and red flashes, the Sith's sword came up, slashing at Leon's arm. Though it nearly missed, only scratching Leon's arm with the tip, it hurt like it had severed his arm completely. The Jedi broke off the engagement, stepping back, while stifling a scream.

Leon kept his blade angled towards his opponent, warding an attack while he glanced at his arm. His jacket and robes were torn open, about mid-forearm. a tiny trickle of blood left the scratch. Why the feth did such a tiny scratch hurt so much? The Padawan tried to calm himself and fight through the pain, using the calm emotions from the battle meld to aid him.

Then suddenly the meld broke.

The crushing weight of Korriban hit him like a speeder. All the breath left his body, and Leon forgot about fighting the pain. Cold tendrils of pain seemed to spread throughout his body in an instant, as though Korriban's darkness had entered him through the wound. The combination of the searing agony in his arm, now slowly spreading, and the crushingly cold pain made Leon scream. He barely remained standing as he struggled through the pain.

Salamander​

 

[Hal Vaiken]

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

P A I N K I L L E R
​

The Sith staggered backward from the Jedi's strike, the acrid smell of scorched flesh loitered in the air. Panting from the force put into his aggressive assault, Tycho glared at the faceless man on the defensive. He saw the opportunity to disable the Sith or--

Kill him...

Avenge her...​

No remorse...​

​

He coiled from the whispers slithering through the eroding barrier of Asmundr Varobalder and Zark San Tekka . The darkness battered at the chains of light holding them at bay. Echoes from the past rang through his mind, haunted memories of a life taken away from him by the Sith. The long, lonely nights in his quarters weeping for Taya, the burning satisfaction at the sight of Sith-Imperial settlements razed and pillaged. It all flooded the gates as the battle meld finally broke and Korriban assumed control.

The unbridled rage.

​

The colorful dances in Tycho's eyes ceased, drowned under the tide of sulfur. The former pirate's face decayed into a grotesque consumed of hatred. Fueled by the fury of vengeance, the corruption of the world possessed his mind and body. Power surged through him, its addictive taste swallowing him whole. He believed he could end it all here, end the Sith once and for all. For all the suffering and agony.

"Die!" he bellowed and released an onslaught of heavy, repetitive strikes aiming to overwhelm the faceless enemy. With each swing, his skin cracked more and more under the influence of the dark side.

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