Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Rebellion Return to Stygian | GA Rebellion of TSE's Krayiss and Jelucan


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V E N O M _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
ARMOR | PRIMARY | SECONDARY | MELEE | GRENADES
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DRAGON
All too easy.

They advanced freely without obstruction to their target. Not a single sight of the enemy was seen, no warriors that originated from the same species that developed this biological ship crossed their paths. Its corridors empty except the presence of the New Imperials, enough to think skeptically to what they had gotten themselves into. Probably their graves.

But all men died eventually.

Men and their deities.

The encounter of the Sith and her warriors proved them right that something or someone expected them. Their own luck. The doors were hindered from the breach which broke out conflict between the combatants. Biological weapon that which he lacked understanding of was used against them, combined the Force used by the Sith as the dust of voidstone released by the grenade Grunge tossed was dissuaded from the fires and and a wave that pushed it away.

Retaliation was fired back with immense fire consuming whatever it touched, intense temperatures that was difficult for their armors to even resist. No doubt manipulated by the Sith as she now advanced towards them. Yells of panic from his fellow soldiers as they did anything to kill the fire that burned them.

Their patriotism would not be forgotten.

He’d return the favor to this fiend as a hand reached for a detonator and threw it.

<“Scream.”>

High frequency sounds emitted from the detonator, enough to damage organs from the ears and disorient those unfortunate to be caught in its radius. Enough to kill a Bith. An opportunity to engage the Slayers with efficiency and rally from the Sith’s counterattack on the unit of Special Operators.

<“No quarter,”> he called out to whatever remained of his squad. No quarter just as they did when they burned Helgard, a fire that reflected on their vengeance to the enemy they once served. It started on Muunilinst and only grew larger and larger with each engagement, only ending until one perished in its flames.

<“Move in!”> It was the only path available to them. Forward and only forward. Snake stepped into the fire that still lasted from the concentrated stream of fire, armor and visor reflected off from the bright orange that danced vibrantly. His eyes were set on the Sith, aiming and firing particle beams from his rifle to her direction. Keep her attention and let the others do their duty.

Walking into hell and going deeper.


WHO DARES WINS
Kolson Vrask Kolson Vrask

MEDUSA
Darth Mori
 
Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Leader of the Dawn of Hope
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group
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Objective: BYOO, negotiations about the Bryn’adûl.
Location: VIP room, Cantina, Krayiss
Equipment: The Soulsabers (hidden) | Brynja coat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Writing With: Kahne Porte Kahne Porte
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[ See me Fight ]

Ingrid nodded to the man that, yes, she was curious. It didn’t matter to the woman that Mr. Porte wasn’t specifically the usual Jedi; she was more interested in how people from other points of view see that things what she was curious about. Quite a lot of information was deductible and it was easier to calculate with statistics or in other ways. Mr. Porte thought similarly about the Chancellor, though Ingrid went a little further and saw the new Palpatine in her.

The woman was better knowing the reasons of the Imperator and the NIO, there she had the opportunity to speak at length with several people and everything was much more black and white. They wanted revenge and they wanted to wipe out everything that had to do with the Sith, under whom they once had to work and live. GA was more complicated than that, there... Their own people didn’t even understand why Chandra wanted to impress Tavlar and the NIO so much and why they continued the war.

"Fortunately, a machine like that does not take a few weeks or months to build, but a long time. And we destroyed Mercy. I know it’s a vain dream to hope they don’t have enough materials to build a new one, and I hope they didn’t build more at the same time."

If the historical records were true, the construction of the second Death Star also took time and was never finished.

"The best might be if Maw and Bryn’adûl would be steered into a common war with each other by the other factions. But again, to this, we need to finish the wars."

She remarked, this was the scenario that would always remain just a dream. And yes, it was a situation where she wasn’t surprised that no one else knew how to proceed.

"Recently, after my release, I convened those who have the same view as me. Jedi, Sith, Imperial Knights, soldiers from the SJC, GA, NIO members, but even the King of Midwinter… we created a group that is independent of factions and seeks to take action against Bryn’adûl, or just support each other or the civilians."

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Tithe again massaged his temples as he sought relief from the oppressive migraine afflicting him. It was getting worst, and he could feel his vision narrowing at the edges. It felt as though someone was slowly squeezing his skull, causing pressure to build behind his eyes. If this kept up he would need to call a recess and summon a med droid.

Senator Preylith T'dishon began to speak out in opposition to building a superweapon, then pivoted in an unexpected direction. The Honourable Member for Azbrian proposed that the Sith were not the warmongering savage who the Senate so commonly claim they were. She went so far as to suggest that the people of worlds enslaved by the Sith lived freely.

The statement, so out of lockstep with the rest of the Federal Assembly, caught Tithe’s attention. He tapped a short message into his datapad before looking up at her. Maybe this office hadn’t made a mistake in their background briefing material.

“That, my dear, is quite the idiosyncratic interpretation of Sith foreign policy,” he replied. “And indeed, yes quite indeed, the divagation from the dearly held view of the Senate majority.”

He was about to continue the beratement when Senator Fossk spoke. The Vice Chancellor turned to issue a stern rebuke to the Senator of Epoch for interrupting him when… he simply decided not to. A wave of serenity washed over him, hosing down the flash of outrage that had threatened to boil over. Tithe even noticed his migraine recede slightly.

Tithe nodded enthusiastically as Fossk explained that the Brotherhood of the Maw had successfully hidden the development of their weapon from the Alliance’s financial investigators. Fossk really was something. Such a trustworthy and accomplished member of the Senate, truly above reproach. Despite growing up and being educated on Aargau, a planet obsessed with credits and commerce, Tithe found himself agreeing that he and his office made been easily fooled by the Brotherhood. What other explanation was there? Surely if Fossk said it, it was to be believed. Tithe really should promote the man, while they hadn’t worked together at all really, anyone could see that Fossk was to be trusted. Maybe Tithe should bring him in on more sensitive and secretive Senate business. After all, who else could be considered more trustworthy?

The temporary moment of pure bliss, of absolute acceptance that Fossk was to be trusted on all matter, faded just as quickly as it had appeared when Senator Fasoyor made an utterance so offensive Tithe again felt his blood about to boil.

The Senator for Metellos suggested that the free market was not the best way forward.

Tithe’s gaze snapped to Fasoyor as he felt his temper rising. His migraine - temporarily eased by the realisation the Fossk was the most sincere being in the whole galaxy who should be godfather to Tithe’s children should ever have any - quickly returned. But the Aargauun was not about to let it get in the way of profits.

“The corporate world has an indubitable track record of supporting the Alliance’s, ah, citizenry,” he replied. This was far from the first time that Tithe had been called upon to defend the Trade Federation and its subsidiaries from his Senate colleagues. “With their ingenuity, leadership, and selfless pursuit of… peace, well, my, I shudder to think of the state the Core would find itself in.”

The Vice Chancellor closed his eyes and placed a hand over them, seeking a moment of relief from the crushing migraine as the Senator for Arkania proposed a pacifist-inducing chemical weapon. “We can’t predict when a danger like this will happen again, I can assure you however that it WILL,” Tithe replied, parroting exactly what Fossk had said moments ago. The statement was clearly correct - Fossk could be trusted wholeheartedly as Tithe had just realised - and for whatever reason he just found it easier to repeat back Fossk’s statement, even dropping his usual fumferring manner of speech. “The Alliance cannot afford to be caught off-guard.”

The Vice Chancellor sat up straight in his chair. Not only was Fossk clearly onto something, but Tithe’s migraine also seemed to be subsiding.

What a pleasant coincidence!
 
Adrian L’lerim Terassi Vandiir
Prince of the Eternal Empire, Disciple/Acolyte, assassin, sorcerer and alchemist
Uncrowned King of the Pocket Sand, Heir of the House L’lerim, Member of the Primyn Group
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Location: Sith Library Temple
Objective I.: Trial of Spirit
Equipment: Mnami Mirsûra, The Crow Cane | Deck of the Pocket Sand | Estran Attire | G1 OmniLink || Empyrean gland
Writing with: Kirie Kirie
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[ Fog after me ]

Truth be told, Adrian says thanks to Force each time, or rather Netherworld, when he was not recognized. He couldn’t deny, in Sith circles, if he just needed something, it came in handy. But with others? Disaster! Now, fortunately, she didn't seem to be able to recognise that the young man resembled Darth Prospero. He was just a better warrior than his father and he was not a coward.

To avoid misunderstandings, Adrian also almost always acted like his father, trying to avoid conflicts, fights; he may have seemed a coward if anyone saw this, but if he had no other option, he used his combat and assassin training. He doesn’t have to protect; just… just really hated to fight. It didn’t suit his sophisticated style; not least it would offend his ego if he couldn’t get out of a situation with words. It would have been a shame for his noble's blood if he hadn't started trying to do that.

Life is easier when someone thinks you're harmless. He was relieved when she did not attack. Maybe he’ll be lucky and won’t get involved in a fight. Although, until he got to a ship or a safe place, that couldn’t be ruled out. She didn't seem to want to hurt him either, yet he grinned at Kirie's words.

"If I do as you tell me? I think I will have few objections to this." he said as he discreetly looked at the woman once more.

He was still watching the other with a smirk, as if they were in a bar rather than a battlefield. At the “threat” of the lightsaber, the grin disappeared from his face and he nodded more seriously. He had no doubt that she should kill him anytime. That is, she would rather try. As the woman stepped closer, she could no longer step back, so a slightly chased, dreaded look appeared on his face.

"These? Books and datacrons… I will try to save them even before GA and NIO burn the entire library. Destroying books and knowledge is a big enough sin… I guess you disagree with me, don't you?"

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I N S A N I T Y

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It always seems like men are designed to destroy. The devils which possessed their forefathers are passed down through generation to generation. They are so diametrically opposed to women that they cannot simply allow her beautiful creation to exist. If only nature could create without him…

The Nightsister saw the limits to the Vice Chancellor's rational mind, uncertain as to where the middle ground to the extent of disagreement lies. 'When was the last time the leaders of factions got together to discuss peace?' They pass down their hatred to their children and their children to their's for what seemed to be an eternity. The only conversations they ever have today is through the sword. 'Must conversation remain absolutely impossible?' she wondered.

The Nightsister reached into her slender Bag of Conjuring, nothing more than a vacuous void. The item she desired to withdraw was simply grasped from upon a shelf within the Bone Temple's apothecary where it paired bag lay. Withdrawing her hand she produced a small jar of tiny formed pills which resemble a popular brand of mild pain killers.

She threw back two herself, much accustomed to their chemistry, and she reached out in front of her data-pad and set the remainder of the lot in front of her on the table.

Pom enjoyed the passive aggressive representation, as might be witnessed within a subtle smile that arched across her alien little freckled farm girl face, with a look that innocently read, 'Do you want some?' while her eyes gestured from the Vice Chancellor toward her meticulously formed...let's just call it, her personal homebrewed concoction.

Who would she be if she didn't enjoy stirring the chaos in one small personal victory for woman at a time?
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Shuklaar Kyrdol

CEO of Breshig War Forge Consolidated

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Friendly Units:
  • "Netra b' Sivkiryav" Jurkad Verde Mechanized Infantry Battalion, Aran Netra's HQ Company "Sivkirayav 6"
Units in Reserve:
Enemy Tag(s): Skye Pearce [Engaging]


Shuklaar Kyrdol, dealing with recalcitrant civilians

"Buy'ce gal, buy'ce tal
Verbor'ad ures aliit
Mhi draar baat'i meg'parjii'se

Kote lo'shebs'ul narit."

Over the course of their assignment with the Sith, Strill had been engaged in a variety of operations. So far, they'd been straight assaults against military held targets. This was the first time that they were being asked to deal with the Empire's civilians. Shuklaar understood that there'd been some sort of purge or retribution here, who the shab really knew. Between either side's propaganda osik, he and his were left high and dry. They'd come too shabla far to quit now. There was too much blood invested in this. Theirs and others.

There'd been reports of heavy rebel activity from other units, but Aran and he had yet to really encounter any of the violent rebels. They did, however, have a notably growing crowd that had blocked their way forward. A complete and utter di'kut would've ordered warning shots or smoke grenades. Problem was, that made people panic, and the last thing that they needed was a panicked crowd rushing their positions. Yes, there were more than a few of them that were armed, but he could see holocameras among the unarmed, just waiting for him to make the first move.

Shuklaar wasn't about to play into their osik. He, Aran and the others from Aran's command squad were standing outside their Trataab'morut IFV, trying to get the crowd to disperse. "Attention! You are required to disperse! Return to your homes at once!" boomed Aran's voice from his buy'ce's annunciator. It had no effect. The crowd stood in front of them, daring them to open fire or attempt to proceed in any other fashion. Even the backdrop of gunfire and explosions didn't phase the shabuire.

It was a call from Sivkiryav Cuir, stating that one of their IFVs had been de-tracked and the crew and passengers were taking heavy fire that made Shuk's mind up. "Give it a rest, Ara'ika. We've given them ample warning. Anyone di'kutla enough to stand there is someone we're doing a favor by removing from the gene pool." Aran nodded and motioned for his squad to pack into their IFV once more. That was when he saw it. Lone mercenary, IFF matching someone that'd signed up with the Sith. "Aran, none of the other outfits are supposed to be in our AO, are they?"

Aran checked and re-checked his datapad before looking up at him, "No, alor. We're supposed to be on our- shab." Aran snapped up his ripper rifle. He shouldered his flechette launcher, one eye on his armor's sensor and scanner output and began scanning the area for contact. Where there was one, there was bound to be more. Shabla GA was going to learn, if they wanted to kill Mandalorians, they were going to have to be prepared to pay in blood.

 
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Objective I - Defend the Temple
Location: Krayiss II, Temple-Library
Allies: TSE | Cameron Crownwraithe Cameron Crownwraithe | Darth Strosius Darth Strosius
Foes: GA | Viers Connory Viers Connory

With a little quip about numbers and luck, the intruder simply vanished.

"We've got a Jedi," Sergeant Zenik warned, confirming all of their suspicions; lightsaber or not, this woman clearly had the distinctive mystical powers of the Force. It certainly explained how she'd made it past the battle at the Temple-Library's entrance. All four troopers immediately opened fire, their blaster bolts cutting through the place where she'd been standing... but she was already on the move, and the crimson streaks hissed through empty air. They only found her again when Kerelenko stumbled, his legs buckling under a sudden impact. An instant later his head snapped back in the opposite direction. There was a nasty crack, and his helmet splintered.

The other three of them fired again as he fell, trying to work out where his attacker had been standing, but their rifle beams once again only cut through open space. Then the Jedi woman reappeared some distance away, reaching into her robes and producing... a spherical object? Eva's eyes widened as the little metal ball was thrown their way. "Grena-" was all she had time for, a half-finished shout of warning as she dove to the side, back up the passage. There was a rush of heat and light, and a noise that would've been loud enough to pop her eardrums if not for the protection of her helmet. Eva tucked herself into an over-the-shoulder roll, coming up on her feet.

All their SICA ordnance drills had paid off; Rance and Zenik had done much the same as Eva had, scattering to avoid the blast. Zenik, inhibited by his scar tissue, hadn't made it quite as far as the others. His armor was scorched, black and brown marring the polished grey surface, and a three-inch chunk of shrapnel was sticking out of his back plate. He didn't seem too much the worse for wear, though, and he was the only one who'd suffered such a hit. All three of them had managed to come back up on their feet, ready to fight, their blaster rifles tracking towards Viers Connory Viers Connory 's last known position. They were still in the fight, and they were out for blood now.

Kerelenko, disabled by the Jedi's staff strikes, hadn't been so lucky.

Eva couldn't quite manage to choke back a sob of grief and shock as she saw him... or what was left of him. The grenade had ripped him apart. An arm had bounced off the chamber's far wall. A couple of fingers had rolled up the corridor, near her feet. A severed foot had ended up behind the Jedi, down the corridor she'd used to enter. The rest was just ruin, a mess of flesh that had once been a human being. The young corporal breathed hard, trying not to be sick in her helmet. One of the few people who'd been willing to even talk to her after the Vjun incident, and now that living, breathing, laughing trooper with the big dreams and the ready smile was just meat.

With a scream of feral rage, Eva rushed up the corridor. Dropping her rifle, she pulled out her sidearm, then produced the life form scanner in the other hand. With one eye on the scanner, she targeted her shots carefully, making sure that she'd aim true even if Viers vanished again. No invisibility tricks were going to save the Jedi this time. The young corporal had been the best marksman in her class, both pistol and rifle, and her dress uniform had the ribbons to prove it. If this Jedi had made the mistake of leaving her bolt-deflecting laser sword at home, Eva intended to make her regret it. She squeezed off six shots, one after another, strong wrist controlling the recoil.

Kerelenko wasn't going to go unavenged. She was determined to make sure of that.
 
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And into my bewildered eyes he throws
Visions of festering wounds and filthy clothes,
And all Destruction's bloody retinue.

----
Delusive Bunker

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BLUFOR
: Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze Yula Perl Yula Perl Viers Connory Viers Connory
OPFOR: TSE, Closed




Strike Team Tano
> Krayiss Two
> Library

Blood flowed from his face and began to drip onto the sand. It pooled into crimson clumps. Bernard's face bore the same colour from the cheeks down. The gashes didn't run deep, but the clawed hands had done their damage. Three cuts across cheeks and nose, three more at his throat. He was more aware of the warmth his blood carried as it ran along his skin than the burning wounds. Enough adrenaline coursed through his veins for that.

The ghost thrust its sword down. The blade caught Bernard's side as he tried to twist out of its path, slicing through his armour and into the small of his back. It drew a grunt from the Marshal as he rolled over, whipping up sand as he scrambled to face the ghost again. The apparition was about ready to bisect the Marshal. It had set both hands on the blade's grip and angled its body to push the blade sideways, on a path through sand and flesh.

Bernard acted quickly. He spun around to train his blaster on the ghost and pulled the trigger, as often as he could in rapid succession. What followed was an erratic volley, shots aimed only in the general direction of the ghost. Speed outranked accuracy for once, but a few bolts still landed. Enough for the apparition to stagger backwards and abandon its efforts to cut Bernard in two, for the moment. Bernard pressed his advantage, taking a few heartbeats to steady his aim, he got the ghost's head between the blaster's sights and fired.

A green bolt flashed its spectral hue and slammed directly into the target. The ghost clutched its face where the bolt connected and staggered further back, but it didn't drop. Long exhales echoed from its form. Its hand slowly retreated from its face, and green eyes locked with Bernard's. The ghost's face was rotten, even its incorporeal form seemed to miss half its flesh. Bone peeked out at its cheeks and along its chin. Its eyes were little more than green dots set into dark voids. There was nothing where its nose should have been. Slowly, its teeth parted, air steaming from between them, as it let out one final exhale. Then it lunged for Bernard.

The Marshal scrambled backwards, firing bolt after bolt at the ghost, but it fell upon him still. One claw raked through his shoulder, the other raised into the air. Bernard cried out in pain, the steady stream of bolts interrupted for a moment as the ghost dug its claw deeper into his flesh. The ghost put together the claws of its raised hand to form the tip of a spear and aimed it directly at Bernard's head. Its claw shot down. Barely, Bernard dodged the fatal blow, twisting his upper body into the claw embedded in his shoulder.

The sudden jerk made the claw rake further through his flesh, digging it into his arm, but for the moment he didn't care. His face tensed up, eyes shut tight, and, with the strength he still had, he pushed off the ground with his wounded arm and drove his elbow into the ghost's chest. No resistance met his arm, as it passed directly through the incorporeal body, but that was fine. His arm was fully submerged into the ghost, blaster included. He began to pull the trigger repeatedly, vaguely guessing at where the ghost's heart might have been in its prior life.

He was rewarded with a sudden wail that crescendoed with anger with every pull of the trigger, until, finally, all sound from the ghost died down. The spikes in his arm disappeared, and, when he opened his eyes again, the ghost dissipated. Small pieces of it blew away like dust.

Bernard collapsed into the sand again. His breathing was shallow, his armour and the ground below him a mess of sand and blood. He set down his blaster on his chest and dropped his hand on a pouch. Shakily, he withdrew a set of bacta sprays and pads.

"By the Force. I fracking hate ghosts."
 
Allies: The Sith Empire - Valen Arenais - Mazrim Caide/Taim Mazrim Caide/Taim - The Amalgam The Amalgam
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance - Zark San Tekka - Captain Raith Captain Raith - Mara Harik - Sion Dallo Sion Dallo
Objective: 2
Location: TempleStone - Counts Tower


Oh? So its picking up pace

Jedi... considering the Sith worshipped death these knights of old had an insatiable sense for the dramatic.

His hulking round cladded shape stepped forward as the wall of floating screens drifted aside. He gazed outward of the great glass windows within the higher levels of the Courts Tower just in time to witness an explosion erupt in the distance.

They wanted the generators...

He reacted by passing on command to his two Akuguza guards leading the operations. Sith forces were made aware to reinforce the remaining generator facilities. Neutralizers were redirected to the position along with spare ground forces in the vicinity.

They weren't gone make it easy for these rebelios vermin, not in the slightest.

A moment late he noticed his guard having uploaded a personal backup, both of his trusted Akuzas were directed to compete these before entering combat. Meaning that he must have.

Feeding into the droids visuals, DarrVack watched from the eyes of the machine as one of the StarrFortesse was zapped with a thunderous clap from below.

They ships own selfprotective mechanisms were not capable of defending them now. Analysing the video material it became clear that a heavily armored troop was on its way here.

Interesting

His guards had learned much in their time serving the Sith Overseer, they understood what was expected off them and how to deliver results.

The damaged ship initaly hit by the volley of electrothermal shells, quickly dove into those remaining blasts it could protecting its airborne brethren.
A few moments later the vessel exploded with a tremendous bang. A flaming wreckage falling out of the sky into the skirmishes below. The enemies fire did not stop there and most of the Fotresses would take hits. They were build for it, best to put them to use while they still could.

It was their turn to attack, for these were birds of prey after all. Not wasting anymore time now that they had discovered this healvy armored convoy the remaining elven ships broke formation into two groups that first moved apart in an arch before coming back together to attack.

A pulse of electromagnetic energy arced toward the ground as they actived their shield disrupotrs. Utilizing their All-Aspect targeting they begun a relentless bombardment.

Be gone

Brodacap bombs or lovingly referred to as "punch and pops" would come down upon the armored collum moving into town. As the spear like shells hit the ground they would pierce serval meters into it before detonating. As if the very earth had festered a hatred for the Jedi the pavement, streets and even nearby houses would be blown into the air leaving nothing but rubble and death.

Ahh what a sight

The damaged ships that would remain would not let lose until even the last spec of alliance forces was scored away. Those that would emerge back to higher altitudes from what ever retribution the enemy would throw at them would release their spread proton bomb arsenal on any unfortunate souls to have survived the initial attack.

They would level the whole district if it meant breaking there advance.
-----

The Howitzers across town had not stopped their barrage of reported insurgent activity, keeping an open channel for possible incoming comms they kept busy reloading the bulky canisters.

Having learned of his brothers dire situation the second of the two Akuzas ordered "Prepare the artillery droids"
 
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PATHFINDER ESCORT
KRAYISS OBELISK
STYGIAN CALDERA
Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser Kirie Kirie
Adrian L'lerim-Vandiir Adrian L'lerim-Vandiir

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"If it bleeds, we can kill it."

Major Stazi was a veteran of the Sith Wars. Darkside abominations and alchemized monstrosities never ceased to disgust him but he could handle the terror their unnatural presence provoked in all sane beings. Most of his pathfinders could handle it too. They died well. Tentacles lashed out and began laying waste to the Alliance troopers' carefully laid defenses. Concentrated blaster fire lit up the night yet the ancient leviathan seemed more annoyed than wounded.

"Master Jedi!" Sol turned in time to witness the blow.

He raised his heavy blaster to kill the Sith apprentice standing over her. Before he could fire a dark tendril coiled around his waist and violently lifted the duros off the ground and away from his Jedi comrades. Forced to trust that Starchaser would look out for the fallen padawan, Sol concentrated on survival. Straining with all his might the pathfinder pried one arm loose from the massive sithspawn's crushing grip. Major Stazi's combat vibroknife reflected off the oily darkness.

Rip and tear.

His tendril cage wound itself even tighter. It was crushing the life out of him but he kept stabbing and stabbing until finally Sol felt tendons or whatever kept this unholy thing together give way. Now he was dangling from a wounded appendage over the creature's endless gaping maw. Crimson eyes glared down into an infinite sea of midnight black. He reached down to his belt and activated a thermal detonator before cutting it loose with his oil stained knife.

It was enough to send the appendage lashing out reflexively just in time for Major Stazi to cut himself free and tumble back down to earth. He snarled and picked up a fallen trooper's hand flamer. Covered in viscous black fluids the duros made for a fearsome sight when he sent a long torrent of flame along each flank of the creature. One flametrooper couldn't hope to kill it but like Sol had suspected the monster recoiled away from the sudden intrusion of light exactly as it had reacted with the thermal detonator.

Burning a perimeter around the obelisk would take time. With every wall of fire he cut the writhing mass off from another avenue of attack.

"Kill it with fire!" Sol screamed over his comlink, "It hates the light!"

 
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[Location: Krayiss II's Orbit - Iblis-class Missile Frigate Epilogue - Internalized C.I.C]
[Engaging: N Nyxeris ]


I will keep my word. You and your crew may leave the ship before it lands.

Four minutes. Two seconds.

She didn't know if she could continue stalling any longer, those hopes crashing and burning as the sith thought the Epilogue would. There was still a chance, she had told herself repeatedly, each time a fraction more uncertain. The decision set before her felt more and more impossible each time, aswell. Crashing into Krayissian grounds would be bound to cause severe Alliance casualties, only to save a miniscule portion of the total force. But even if she refused to cooperate, Nyxeris would simply kill them all, and find another way.

Unless...


"Begin evacuating all personnel," Teica stared the sith's way, until she moved to the farther consoles, "Program droid brains to follow that meditation sphere."

The commander now stood, cane securing her footing while she looked over the helmsman's display, and lowered her voice just enough to be absent from the intruder's hearing, perhaps not from the mind reading, "Relay the commands to main engineering, and tell them to rig missile bays three through ten to detonate prematurely as soon as we're in close enough proximity of the sith fleet."

The Epilogue would meet her end, that was for certain, but if all went well, it wouldn't be the way the sith foretold. The premature missile detonations would knock the vessel, and any falling debris off course, while the arrangement of ammunition stores and poorly isolated missile bays would become the victims of a shipwide chain reaction. And Teica knew far too well what a chain reaction of that magnitude could do to the space around it-- even the debris would be deadly enough for her purposes. Anything that made it into the gravity well would hopefully either burn up in atmosphere, or hit the surface elsewhere, of course at less impact than the alternatives.

"Droid brains receiving orders, ma'am. Locked on the meditation sphere's course," The helmsman replied, loud enough for the sith to hear, and have her plan confirmed.

Teica cleared her mind once more, a less than hopeless effort with the rush of anxiety and terror mangling her train of thought. But, nonetheless, her gaze returned to the matter at hand, the sith. Two eyes, each struggling to stay open, set on Nyxeris' own, while the hostility bled through her teeth and lips.
Happy now? She was close to mouthing the words, but her own hesitation kept her a short distance from such actions.

"We'll have to leave right now. Otherwise we'll be giving ample time to have our lifeboats fired upon."


The commander's arms crossed behind her, hands positioned to maintain the support of her cane, just as pockets of the bridge crew began to pick up the pace and leave in fearful silence. The anger, though she was counting on the success of her own plan, was thinly-veiled, hardly concealed in the face of the sith. But, she didn't see the malice returned in the intruder's expression. Relief, she saw, muffled hostility at worst. A sith who spared lives, didn't let anger overcome her actions, and who carried no lightsaber, nor other weapons of death. The woman in front of her couldn't have been one of the monsters who had levelled the cities on Ziost, who had-

Don't be naïve. People, as she knew far too well, made proficient liars.

Three minutes, Thirteen seconds.

Ten.
 
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Allies: N/A
Enemies: TSE | GA | Yula Perl Yula Perl | Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze

Why won't you let me in?




“Listen, Zaav, I thought you were dead. I don’t know what’s happened to you since Denon, and I don’t know what kind of chit you’ve been through over the past few months. But- We’re family, and as much as you might hate that right now, I’m not gonna step aside and let you kill yourself!”

"Of course you don't know. Why would you? Why would anyone? No one bothered to look into what became of me, just called it KIA and closed the book. Until there were credits involved, that much was good enough for everyone." Zaavik spat on the ground, trying to eject the taste those words left in his mouth.

"Not like I wanted to be found, anyway. It was a lot easier when I was dead to all of you."

A deep breath settled the roil. Something was waiting in the space just beyond the present, dark anticipation for what came next. "But you didn't come here to pity me, and I don't want it anyhow."


“Let’s cut the chit, Zaavik. I’m not getting out of your way.”

Could have seen that coming. Aunt Joza was right, the attitude is hereditary.

Zaavik scowled. His eyes narrowed like a cornered predator's. Adrenaline hit the brain like a discharge of a freshly loaded gun. It made his eye twitch. Restlessly, his lightsaber began to twirl in his hand. The dark side rushed in like air flooding into the void space through a hole in a starship hull.

"Fine, if that's how it's gonna be..."

There was only one way past this. Yula was probably less likely to budge than he was. Preparing himself, his knees bent slightly. Both hands grasped around the ignited hilt. As the scowl faded into a focused expression, his face became devoid of any spark of personality that could be identified as his own. Maybe he was dead to the world, from a certain point of view.

"Just remember; you chose this."

Kicking up dust behind him, Zaavik took off forward from where he stood. Surging foward in a blur, he closed the gap between them at a disgustingly quick pace. The dark side was at work here, no more doubting it. A two-handed stroke came hard from the left, all physical strength and beyond put into an opening blow.

If restraint was physical, Zaavik possessed not even a single molecule.
 

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// STRIKE TEAM SKYWALKER \\
KRAYISS TWO | LIBRARY TEMPLE | OUTSIDE COURTYARD
SHE IS MURDER
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Okkeus’ confirmation was all she needed as validation. That meant the darkside hadn’t gripped her psyche and turned it against her. She would have been a failure in that case; but instead this was some terrible evil that permeated beyond her observation.

Auteme was busy with the court of Spirits, she could see that. She could feel that. They loomed around them, beckoning and conversing with words Ishida couldn’t quite make out. Aaran was entangled with The Black Knight.

Members of Strike Team Tano were in and out of existence, same with Strike Team Kenobi. This was a truly isolating and shared experience. The revolt within her was growing tumultuous, and Ishida forced herself to blink hard. As if closing her eyes would temporarily reset the situation they found themselves in.

What had the briefing said about the court? Gaining access? There were riddles as an option, and the other was to enter by strength.

Invitation hadn’t been an option.

Her eyes snapped back open to glare at the Jedi apparition.

With a disfavouring grunt, the tiny Atrisian leaped at the harrowing figure of a Jedi. The beckon of light that emanated from them was a farce, and she snarled in fury as she delivered a diagonal blow that seared through the mirage. Fury boiled within her for the few moments she’d allowed it to pull a veil over her hopeful eyes. Hope was a blinder. She couldn’t afford to be so unseeing.

Cutting through the specter wasn’t her final action. Without hesitation, she continued to drive forward, running toward the entrance to show her strength.

She was met with an arc of lightning that seared through her body, burning through her flesh and seeking ground as she gasped and writhed in agony. The superheated, Force-born electricity stopped just long enough for the Padawan to drop back to the dirt. Breathless.


ALLIES | GA | NJO | Auteme | Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo | Okkeus Dainlei
ENEMIES | TSE | SITH SPIRITS | Arctus Silmar

 


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//: Pretty Dangerous Faces //:
//: Voyana //:
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A part of Allyson relaxed hearing that the girl wasn’t a sith. It meant that she was just some random street rat trying to benefit from the war. A younger Allyson would probably have been right next to her helping - or wrestling her for the part she was fishing for.

Younger Allyson would have taken a chance - shoot her shot to try and get a number over a part. Oh, younger Allyson, you sly fox.

The woman was far too calm; Allyson already could sense something was up her sleeve - this wasn’t the attitude of someone caught. Allyson tightened her grip on the blaster as suddenly, another appeared in her face. As Voyana moved to knock Allyson’s blaster from her hand, the Spy’s free hand moved forward and grabbed the woman by her collar, and a foot kicked the girl’s leg from under her.

When and if she tried to shoot - her blaster would instantly malfunction as the pieces would shatter from barrel to the grip. A smirk spread across the Corellian’s gaze as she sighed heavily.

“Why’s it always the pretty ones that do the DUMBEST chit?” She finished as her blaster now burrowed into Voyana’s temple. “Yes, I’ll use it - but sometimes I like
to figure out a good reason for karking blowing your brains out. Now. Start talking; you look smart enough to know you’re karked, right?”
 


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//: Objective //: Face the Nightmares //:
//: Target //: Eva Betrik Eva Betrik //:
//: Tags //: Cameron Crownwraithe Cameron Crownwraithe //: Darth Strosius Darth Strosius //:
//: Allies //: None //:
//:
The Valley of Grace //:
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The explosion knocked Viers through the air as she maintained the Force Cloak. She wasn't aware of her distance from it, but it seemed she had come out of it mostly unscathed. The tactic was to scare the troopers, possibly knock a few out from the blast, but never to kill. The dust began to settle, and she shook her head, pushing herself up from the ground. As her vision settled, Viers counted the soldiers; three seemed to have survived and been getting up - but the one she had knocked to his feet…

Blood and sinew stained the floor, parts used to form the human being tossed about like a toy a child was done breaking. Viers stared at the grotesque disembodiment, wondering where in her calculations had she messed up. People weren't supposed to die by her hands unless they were nether beings or Sith - these soldiers were mortal. They had nothing to do with the netherworld; there was no reason to slay them.

W-What have I done? Her chest tightened as her stomach twisted, dread-filled her mind as she knew she had broken the laws of her monastery - her order - her holy mission was now corrupt. Panic began to settle in. Would what she desired at the end of her mission be lost? The one wish she held so close to her heart, be taken from her because of her foolishness? She had never taken a life knowingly, not a mortal life. Her stomach continued to twist and fold as the dread continued to grip her attention.

Mentally, Viers tried to find justification, if she hadn't, she would have been dead, but no matter what she told herself - guilt still wrapped her heart like barbed wire. It tightened and tightened till it couldn't beat any longer. So she stood, despite what she had done, the Corellian needed to live to make an atonement of the sin she had committed today.

Senses returned almost instantly as she watched a figure rip through the smoke that continued to settle from the grenade. Anger flowed from the one charging, and Viers stepped back, drawing the quarterstaff back in front of her. She figured, if she stood still, the charging soldier would run past or shoot blindly into the air. The chances of them hitting the Monk was small; she waited, and then suddenly - she realized how wrong her calculations were again.

Blasters shot straight for her, and quickly, the quarterstaff was able to deflect the first two shots with ease, but the precision and the rate of fire were too much for the unsuspecting girl to dodge. Like heated rods, the plasma shots burned into the Monk's simple tunic, then pierced her flesh. "Wha-?!" The panic returned as she watched as blood poured from the first singed wound, staining the snow-white fabric. The fourth shot burned into her leg, forcing her to collapse to one knee. The fifth fired near the third, sinking into her hip and a cry of pain escaped the girl's lips. "H-How did you see me? Kark it hurts..." She whimpered like a wounded dog, and finally, the sixth shot burned into her shoulder, barely missing her twin hearts. Viers felt the wind knocked out of her as she fell back and coughed, tasting the iron of her own blood. It dripped down her chin as she gasped; one of her lungs was still viable, drawing enough air for her to work the quarterstaff as a limb to support her.

She stood and held the quarterstaff in front of her; if her wounds were grave - Viers would continue to fight till her last breath. "I'm sorry, I understand your pain, but I cannot give you your revenge today..." Her voice, understanding and knowing that she was staring at her murderer. Then, with a wave of her hand, the Force was summoned to her. The pain began to fade, and her body became strengthened. She charged forward, preparing for another round of fire. As she drew closer, Viers slid the quarterstaff forward and swung it low, trying to sweep the woman's feet from under her. The Monk's attack continued using that momentum; her feet would leave the ground in a cartwheel-like fashion to drive a hard kick into the trooper's head and throat.

It was her mission to protect the others - to be a distraction. Through the Force a whisper,

I'm sorry, Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze
 
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Objective I - Defend the Temple
Location: Krayiss II, Temple-Library
Allies: TSE | Cameron Crownwraithe Cameron Crownwraithe | Darth Strosius Darth Strosius
Foes: GA | Viers Connory Viers Connory

SICA basic training emphasized discipline over emotion. Fighting with feelings involved, the instructors told the trainees over and over, made you sloppy, and being sloppy would get you dead in a hurry. You had to view the enemy with casual hatred, never looking at individuals as individuals, so that they were easy to shoot. You had to keep a little distance from your comrades, to view yourself and all other SICA militiamen as useful but replaceable cogs in the Sith-Imperial machine, defending the prosperity and security of the Empire. There were going to be casualties, the instructors emphasized. You honored your comrades by not breaking down when they died.

But SICA basic training was less than a month long. That wasn't enough conditioning to clamp down on Eva's rage.

The young corporal advanced in a red haze, her hands shockingly steady given that every other part of her seemed to be shaking with fury. At first she fired into empty air, guided only by the little green dot on her life form scanner that indicated a living, breathing creature... but her barrage of shots soon forced the Jedi out of hiding. The first two were intercepted, deflected by the spinning quarterstaff as if it was a lightsaber, and Eva felt a surge of despair. They didn't even need their laser swords now? But she was committed to the attack, and she kept on coming, firing steadily, trying to slip past the Jedi's defenses. And with a little persistence, she did.

It was honestly a shock to see the shots hitting home, punching through the young woman's tunic to leave deep burns that oozed blood into the white fabric. Shooting over and over, Eva systematically disassembled the Jedi, taking her down to a knee, then all the way to the floor. The SICA corporal stood over her, watching her struggle to breathe, recognizing in her features someone not much older than herself. The Jedi still had the strength to prop herself up on her quarterstaff, and some raging, sadistic voice in the back of Eva's head told her to shoot that supporting arm, to draw out the Jedi's long fall into death. But she wasn't that person, and she didn't care to be.

No, Eva would finish this quickly. She raised her blaster to aim at Viers's forehead. I'll do you proud, Kerelenko.

But then the Jedi spoke. "H-How did you see me? Kark it hurts..." Eva felt a smile of bitter satisfaction taking shape beneath her helmet. "First time getting shot, Jedi? Welcome to being mortal like the rest of us." A surge of empathy for the young woman before her - alone, frightened, and in pain, all situations intimately familiar to the corporal - was swiftly shoved back down when the image of her comrade's mangled body flashed back to her. But then the Jedi spoke again. "I'm sorry, I understand your pain, but I cannot give you your revenge today..." Eva shook her head at her enemy's bravado. Was she really going to claim that with a gun on her?

A thousand replies rushed to the corporal's mind, ranging from an angry "you couldn't possibly understand, you self-righteous schutta" to the more cold and cinematic "you might not give me revenge, but I'm taking it" that an action holovid star might have said. Eva didn't actually get to say any of them, though. She had made the mistake of giving a Jedi, one of these living gods, a moment to catch her breath... and that was all the sorcerer-knights needed. The corporal's eyes widened with horror as the injured woman suddenly surged forward, drawing strength from beyond to overcome the limitations of her wounded body, and swung her quarterstaff low.

Had Eva been one of the elite troopers of the Kainate, resplendent in their high-tech crimson armor, she might have seen the strike coming and evaded it - or simply let it clang off of a nigh-unbreakable shinguard. But she wasn't. She was a girl of nineteen with four weeks' training and ill-fitting standard issue equipment, and the quarterstaff blow swept her off her feet like a fairytale prince. The follow-up kick snapped her head back as she fell, and her helmet flew off, clattering up the hall. She landed hard, an ugly purple bruise already taking shape beneath her chin. Her head banged hard against the dark stone floor, gashing her scalp and setting her vision swimming.

Blood began to seep into her ash-blonde hair. Flat on her back, staring at the ceiling, she struggled to rise.

It wasn't discipline or strength of character or physical endurance that got her moving again. It was the thought that, if the Jedi dropped another grenade, she would end up like Kerelenko, with nothing but little pieces of her to ship back to her mom. Head still swimming, she couldn't rise, but she did manage to roll over. Zenik and Rance were already shooting again, trying to take down the wounded Jedi as soon as she'd dropped Eva. The young corporal had lost her scanner and sidearm in the fall, her fingers going limp when her head had hit the ground... but she'd fallen near the rifle she'd dropped, and she managed to army crawl over to the weapon.

Turning on her side, she braced the blaster against her shoulder and joined in trying to shoot the Jedi.
 
Handsome blindfolded hyper-religious whackjob

Goodness she just kept talking didn’t she? The constant justification was starting to get quite grating. "Ah, I understand now. When you run its a tactical retreat. When we do it, it is because we're idiots and cowards." He said, nodding slightly, his voice keeping that same pleasant mocking tone. "When we fight a war on several fronts, we're idiots. When you do, you're just knocking some sense into us." His smile was beginning to show a few more teeth.

"It is okay for you to do what you think is right. But for us to do the same, we should be condemned. How fortunate we are to have you to act as the moral arbiter of the universe."

"I am quite impressed by those mental gymnastics of yours."
He said, having no issue pointing out the inherent hypocrisy in her own methodology. The double standards were quite glaring. In all of her efforts, in all of her fights. She had burnt more bridges, lost more resources and gained more enemies than those she fought against.

She did not have hundreds of worlds to draw resources from. She did not have the infrastructure or supply lines for her personal crusade to be anything more than an annoyance to the greater powers of the galaxy. The most she could do right now personally was hold up a single Jedi while his allies completed their own objectives.

And as she lunged, he moved. One hand coming up to block the strike to his throat. Forearm intercepting the strike in hoping of deflecting it instead of trying to block it head on. He had no interest in wasting energy in a direct contest of strength against the Black Knight. He would rather sit and wait. Allow his opponent to exhaust herself. From the reports he had read, she showcased some rather potent techniques in the past. And the potent techniques tended to be the most draining.

As for the strike to his liver. He had no intention of playing fair. His hand flexed, his lightsaber flying from his waist and into his grasp, igniting as it did so, blade pointed downward at an angle. Swinging with a wide arc in an attempt to either batter her hand away, or if he was fortunate, sever it completely.

Or at the very least, give her a nice gash on the leg for her trouble.

But he was not down. With both of her hands occupied and hopefully off balance, he then struck out with his foot. Another solid kick aimed at the same place he had struck before. That same penetrating quality added to his kick as it was to his previous blow. His plan was to wear her down in a battle of attrition. Hopefully, a few broken ribs would be enough to convince her to back off for now.
 
"Ah, so you can learn!" Xiphos mocked, sensing she was getting on his nerves, his mocking smile a little harder for him to maintain, his counter-arguments more strained.

"Fighting a war on several fronts when you don't have to IS stupidity. It IS cowardice when you would rather run and evacuate than fight the Lobsters with everything you have. How many worlds did the Jedi hand The Bryn'adul just doing that?! They did the same things at Sev Tok that cost them Sarka, and countless others. I didn't leave either until I was certain there was nothing more I could do."

His hand deflected her strike, and at the same time his Lightsaber shot out, so too did hers, deflecting a strike that would have severed her hand, leaving a mild grazing singe on her leg armor.

But then his foot shot out, and her arm, parried by his original defense, her other arm occupied with a Lightsaber...shot out and caught his ankle.

She began immediately applying crushing strength to that ankle, in the hopes of disabling him. He could escape her grip if he was fast and strong enough, but her extreme Strength let her begin to press her blade against his, trying to literally force it from his grasp due to the sheer kinetic pressure she was applying.

"You use the same tactics against The Bryn'adul, the Sith, repeatedly and you wonder why you've been losing to them. Why was it me, a failed stage magician whose best tricks were cards and rabbits ended up being the one to supply the Sev Tok Militia with the Anti-Bryn weapons they needed to Survive rather than The fething SJC? Those Bio-Blasters I know you recovered from the Battlefield? Supplied by me. Created because of what I learned fighting the Lobsters."

Thank the Force those Weapons didn't have serial numbers.


Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo
 

Marina DeVoe

Not a flight attendant... just a risk.
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Location: Alderaan



"No no...I believe you, Becca.
But are you sure you heard our queen right?" Marina asked her friend through their hologram transmission.

Marina wasn't certain if her queen would even wish to have her around with what she had pulled on her son Theo.
That matter had yet to come to rapture, and when it did, Marina was certain it would be Hell for her to answer.
But as it stood and quite a few weeks had already passed since that spur of the moment idiotic stupid stupid stupid ...stupid thing she did that now just waiting for the ax to fall-

"Huh?..." Marina had drifted from the conversation she were having with Becca, while she beat herself up on the matter that somehow had yet to come to her queen's attention.


"...say wha?... I...
I wasn't paying attention. Sorry...

I didn't get the last part, Becca." She apologetically looked at her friend's hologram.

The message was that their queen could use Marina at her side as matters on Stygian would be something of interest to the future Duchess, of House DeVoe.

"Seriously...she said future Duchess? You sure her majesty were referring to me, not my sister?" It were difficult to believe that her queen had not yet been informed of her stint with the prince.

But yes, Becca repeated that their queen was referring to her and not Marina's sister who were already a Duchess.


"Oh, right...yea. uhm...Ok.
Ok, yes I'll make arrangements to leave for Stygian as soon as I can."

With that and a few less pertinent exchanges, they both finally terminated their connection.


Hours later...


Many hours later...


...and then some.



The Mariner IV came out of hyperspace and on to Stygiam system.
With proper credentials and approved pass codes, she were given permission to make land fall.

Marina had messaged Becca upon her landing and the two met shortly after.
Of course, Becca knew nothing of the incident between their queen's son Theo and Marina. Marina weren't one to blab, nor speak of the unspeakable to anyone but her queen. that is when the fodder hit the fan.

But for now, she chalked it up, swallowed her anxiety and put her best foot forward. Until the house of cards collapsed, she would serve her queen faithfully till her majesty threw her out of court.

"You're looking well, Becca. It's so nice to meet up with you again," She said with her patented smile, before she hugged her friend.

In no time, Becca escorted Marina to where their queen was.
Only it lead to the large ante corridor with ornate benches along the decorated hall walls.


"Don't tell me...it's one of those; hurry up and wait ordeals...." Marina said, both kind of disappointed and at the same time relieved.
Disappointed that she had no clout to go any further and relieved for the moment that she didn't have to pretend to her queen that nothing happened between her and Theo.
 
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Mara Harik

Guest
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Daughter of Krayiss
Strike Team Rex | Militia
00:03:02
Keep Quiet

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The shooting was sudden and, though we had been operating in a war zone, unexpected, at least to me. I knew that there would be live gunfire, actual killing, happening during the night of rebellion, but it never seemed entirely real to me. The thought of shooting at another, or being shot at, had persisted only as a theoretical thought experiment. A hypothesis to which the answer was always the same.

But out here we had to face reality. The foes we met on the field were living, breathing beings that acted rationally, irrationally, out of fear, courage, or some other emotion that was too dark for me to admit. The sheer unpredictability of the battlefield gnawed at me as we stalked up the street

I was anxious. I'd never much had to confront the possibility of dying before. Now cannons sounded in the distance, and blaster fire cracked through the night from distant corners of the city. I tried to focus on the weight of the blaster in my hands, on something tangible, but that only seemed to make the possibility of killing someone with the weapon more real.

It turned out that my anxiety was not unfounded. I nearly jumped when two loud yowls announced the green flashes that would take uncle Gar's life. I clenched my teeth and covered my mouth when the other point-man suddenly had his throat cut. Both of them fell to the floor, and I came face to face with death itself. Even when I had found Sion half-buried in the rubble I'd managed to keep my calm, but as I laid eyes on their murderer, my fear threatened to spill over.

Sion held out his hand before me, giving me the signal to stop. I heeded his warning.

The murderer stared at us, his gun trained on Sion. Without thinking, I raised my own and set its sights on him. It didn't occur to me that this was expected of me, as part of a combat encounter. I did it out of fearful instinct.

<Keep going.> Were Sion's only words as we stared down the gunman.

<Are you crazy?> I whispered. <I'm not leaving you here.>

He was already holding up the activator of a baradium charge, not even making a move for his blaster.

<Sion.> I hissed.


Allies: GA, NJO, NIO, Zark San Tekka, Suri Vullen, Captain Raith Captain Raith , Sion Dallo Sion Dallo ['N FAMILY STiCKS TOGETHER]
Enemies: TSE, Mazrim Caide/Taim Mazrim Caide/Taim , Open
 

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