Campaign Return of the Jedi: SJC Campaign to TSE held Voss (Jabiim; Nespis VIII; Chandaar; Ossus, and Voss Hexes)

[Coci Heavenshield]

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Location: On ground - Lower Voss-ka
Equipment: Blue bladed lightsaber, Purple bladed (shadow) lightsaber | Tech Ward Armour
Tags: Enyo Typhos | Thurion Heavenshield

She knew she was open to attack, but the safety of the people on the shuttle was paramount to Coci, it was a game of inches, or seconds at this point, and it mattered. There had not been a word spoken between them both since the encounter, so her attacker was not Sith. Sith loved to bang on about how powerful they are, or what their desire was to ripe her to shreds and see her suffer through whatever means possible, the force knows she had heard it all before.

Coci was not a chatter either, deeming it a complete waste of time where Sith were concerned. She had always viewed life in black and white, especially in the early days. Grey was something she was suspicious of, and not to be trusted. Fluidity never fixed.

The hit came, taking her legs out from under her even though she had had enough time to reinforce her strength once the shuttle had settled on the ground. Her armour had held up again, but even that could not sustain for a limited time. Armour does not remove the pain however, and although her legs had not been broken, they were injured, weakened by the impact. Air flew from her lungs as her back hit the ground, and for a moment her eyes looked into the skies over Voss only to see the fighting, ships exploding on both sides and debris raining down toward the ground. Not the first time she had seen this, nor it would be the last.

Sith would say ‘peace is a lie’, was it something that was unachievable? Yes. But, to Jedi peace is a hope, and as long as there was hope, it was something worth fighting for.

She stood up with laboured breath, pulled the force to her to reinforce herself. The purity of the light side fuelling her power, tendrils weaving around her, entering her body and gathering in her core. Her attacker was in her sights and close enough, to make sure Coci took a few painful steps forward and unleashed a stream of pure force light energy toward the darksider.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

Equipment: Armour, Rifle, Grenades, Sidearm 1, Sidearm 2, Sabre, Knife, Wrist Weapon.

Seeing her foe briefly down and in pain, Enyo had advanced closer towards her. But then the Force surged through the Jedi, manifesting in the form of dazzling, purifying Light. So bright to be almost blinding. The blast of light struck the core of her black soul. Enyo was more machine than organic. She could not tire or experience pain in the way an organic did. The only thing organic about her was her brain. However, Force Light was a metaphysical attack.

The lance of light seared her black soul. And so it burnt. Just as she had burnt on Mirial. She dropped down to one knee. She tried to call upon the Force to wrap herself into a protective cocoon, but though her powers had not been stripped from her, the Force was slower to respond, as if it were in some form far away place. Burning cracks manifested inside her Force aura. There was no shield she could draw upon. So she endured.

Just as she had endured when the Silver Jedi bathed Korriban City in hellfire and her body was left broken and scorched. Just as she had endured when her creatores killed her mutilated body, placed her brain inside its mechanical cage and made her a prisoner inside her own mind Just as she had endured when the Silver Grandmaster at the time unleashed a Wall of Light on Mirial's main city.

By passing through the crucible of blood and fire, she became stronger. She arose, faced the burning light and endured. Her off-hand wrapped one of her sidearms, a sonic gun. Sonic weapons could not be blocked by lightsabres, but were great at breaking bones, rupturing organs, messing with a foe's hearing or disorientating them in general. As the Light crept closer once more, she advanced and fired - once, twice - towards her opponent's head. Most armour neglected sonic protection.

Her free hand, her dominant one, had enclosed around the hilt of her lightsabre. Endurance sprang to life with a snap-hiss, revealing a burning violet blade. Crossing the distance, she launched a downward chopping cut with the lightsabre. The strike was directed against the Jedi's right hand, aiming to cut it at the wrist. Every armour had gaps here and there to ensure mobility, and so joints lacked the heavy plating that kept the rest of the body protected. The length of her blade kept her out of range of an immediate counter, though she was not foolish enough to think the Jedi would not be able to muster a response

Coci Heavenshield

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

TOWER OF PROPHESY, VOSS
(Just) Duncan Kingsley

Spoiler

Joycelyn’s stuff: Zaudraka, Zealot’s Maille, Jin’wodasir x3, SIF-7 Minos.

True, size did account for some things.

And while the vulture was tall, Joycelyn stood a good head taller than him. Her smile remained, in fact, she faked a chuckle as she shook her head. Her lips parted to show her white teeth, but her eyes remained hard.

“No, I am no jedi.” She sounded almost remorseful. “I am just a fabulously wealthy woman, trapped on this forsaken planet.”

She gestured to the crumbling warzone around her.

In her skullduggery, she did not notice the goose sneaking up on her.

Nor did she notice Duncan picking her com device out of her pocket.

While Joycelyn was distracted with her act, the sword at her side tried its best to shoo the fowl away. If ever you could see steel stare this was it, as Zaudraka struck up a steely staring match against the stealthily stealing goose.

“And I was about to offer a hefty reward for releasing me.” “Alas, I must look elsewhere to find my certainly most handsome rescuer.”

A pile of rubble crashed into one of the nearby puddles, creating a kerfuffle of steam, dust and smoke. Joycelyn looked that way, entirely caught in the notion of finding someone to thoroughly throttle.

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

Objective: Fly away home
Location: The Great Sith Library (Chamber of Antiquities)
Equipment: Gravity Hurts, Lightsaber, Vi'Dreya Crystal, Ianua Dagger, Chase Spymaster
Allies: Jaeson Starchaser
Enemies: AMCO

For all the effort given to discourse here, it seemed like a true crime to Jerek that his wit went unappreciated. Long had he honed the particulars of jocular vernacular, crafting the phrases and puns that would provide the right levity in their circumstances. And then, without a care for his time and effort, they were callously discarded without a word. He should have been offended, or at least taking notes for how to improve his comedic approach the next time, but no, there was something more pressing to act upon.

For it seemed that in the time it took for Jerek to contrive the elaborate backstory behind his misplaced wit, Jaeson had decided to stop talking with the creatures and shoot them at last. It wasn't the original plan, but the young Jedi would take what he could get here.

"Yes, running would be great. Like I told you to do in the first place!" Jerek chided, but his legs were already moving. The creatures seemed preoccupied by the damage inflected from the other boy's gun, the sound and sight of its shot was different from a typical blaster. Whatever the cause of their moaning ire now, the erstwhile padawan deftly wove through their anguished confusion to pass beyond them, just in time for the talking corpse behind them to explode in a series of miniature blasts.

Jerek glanced behind them, wincing at the damage done to the antiquities once stored there with care, before picking up the pace.

Retracing their steps wasn't that hard, even with the maze-like layout of the Sith catacombs. The knowledge of their successful findings propelled Jerek forward, as did the awareness of something —a lot of somethings— chasing behind them. He didn't look this time, he didn't need his eyes or even the Force to hear the percussive stomps of the undead Sithspawn following behind them.

Without the Force in hand, Jerek found himself getting winded as he pushed his body and limbs to their limits. Keeping it at arm's length meant the Jedi youth wasn't encumbered by the oppressive darkside that would have threatened to keep him inside the Sith Library, but the boy hadn't realized just how much he relied on the Force to aid his physical endurance. He had been getting complacent in his training lately, the soreness of his limbs and the pain of every breath he drew was an acute reminder of the need to improve his diligence.

"It's just," Jerek pointed out to his Starchaser companion, pausing his words to take a breath that felt more like a gasp, "the next left."

"I treat my body like a temple..." the other boy replied. Jerek gave him a dubious look up and down his lean body. "well scratch that better than a Jedi Temple at least. I lose my body less."

Jerek just rolled his eyes. He didn't have time to respond Jaeson's verbal dig, for soon enough they reached the intersection and arrived back at the cistern catwalk. The rope the errant Starchaser had tied was still waiting for them, but so could the Sithspawn creatures if they climbed up the old fashioned way. Ignoring any protests that might have come from Jaeson, the Jedi wrapped an arm around the other boy while he activated his suit's repulsor boots.

Up, up, and up, Jerek's suit carried the pair up the deep hole they came through. They burst into the grey light of Ossus once more, and he found to his delight that there were no enemies waiting to ambush them. The Jedi was taking no chances, however, and angled his suit back towards their waiting starship. As awkward as the flight was —Jerek kept having to adjust his grip on the Starchaser, giving him the opportunity to verify just how much of a temple the other boy kept his body— it was far more prudent than traipsing back through the corrupted woods again.

Someday, Ossus would teem with life once more. And, with any luck, the laughter of Jedi younglings trying to avoid their masters' lessons. Until then, Jerek would have to be satisfied with the knowledge of what they accomplished here today, and savor the fruits of his labors. What hidden secrets his old master's holocron might hold for him, only time and his patience would tell.