Populate [RNR] To Hell and Back || The Sundering || Populate of Vendaxa

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Brandyn crouched low at the edge of the broken walkway, his hand resting against the pitted stone as he surveyed the gaping entrance ahead. The red light spilling from within pulsed unevenly, like a heartbeat just out of rhythm — a constant reminder that every second wasted risked lives.

This was it. No more guessing. No more hoping.

He shifted his weight slightly, glancing back to the others — Briana, Rook, Master Porte — feeling their readiness humming across the bond they shared, whether through blood, friendship, or the Force itself. A silent understanding passed between them. There would be no turning back.

Brandyn exhaled slowly and gave a small, decisive nod. "We move," he said quietly, his voice low but steady. "Two by two. Rook and I will scout the corridor ahead, check for any sentries or traps. Master Porte, Briana — cover the entrance, then follow once we're clear."

He flicked his gaze once more across the grotesque architecture, every instinct warning him that this place would not allow an easy path. It was built to consume hope, to extinguish light. And yet here they stood, blades readied by grief and duty.

Brandyn gave Rook a look — half grim humor, half steel resolve — before slipping into the shadows ahead, trusting the others to fall into the rhythm they had built on countless battlefields before this.

They would find the children. They would find Elias.

Whatever horrors lay between them and that goal, they would face them together.

| TAG: Rook Merriex Briana Sal-Soren Kahne Porte |



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[Raigryn Vayd]

Seth Denko Sibylla Abrantes Aurelian Veruna

"Finally." he called out with mock relief, that honey-thick accent curling around every syllable, "I was beginning to worry I'd have to charm this entire province alone. The tragedy of unshared brilliance."

Raigryn included his head. He smiled from one corner of his mouth.

"Fortunately none of us were worried that would happen," he replied politely.

He glanced once toward Raigryn then, eyes narrowing with amused recognition. "And you, Lord Vayd. How wonderfully grim you look today. I do admire consistency. It is good to see you still thriving..."

"Still surviving," Raigryn said. He was now grinning from ear to ear.

"Now. Shall we get to the part where we pretend any of this is about what the people want?"

"Indeed!" Raigryn said. He could see more of the locals starting to gather closely to the Republic delegation.

"I will listen in and let you all discuss matters."

Ambition was for the young. They were busy watching their backs and trying to climb to ladder of influence.

Raigryn was past that. He was comfortable. Whilst he held some rather prejudiced views about the kind of people that held power he was, unfortunately, often right. He knew which slightly overweight, grey haired men he would be seeking out for a friendly chat over a stiff drink.

Rather than using a sharp tongue, Raigryn was effortless in his arrogance.

 

[Aiden Porte]

"You fight for a dying lie. The Force is not your gift. It is your leash. And we are the fire that will burn it from the flesh."

The Jedi Padawan heard the call.. The darkness was devastating, between all that had happed. Aiden cleared his mind, allowing the force to flow through him like a river through the valley. He became less encumbered, less devastating as it would've been many years ago. Between all those that he believe in, and he could feel their essence and light. As was the jewel draped around his neck. Given to him by his Master Solenne Abraxas

Forever a reminder to him, a light when all others went out. It furthered his resolve and his affinity with the force.

It was not the end. Lorn Reingard , Phillip Slate were there with him. As was the rest of the Vanguard. The light standing against the darkness and evil that spawned from the Unblessed.

Monstrosities of a rather large nature moved forward. The padawan's brow furrowed. His resolve ever increasing even amongst the sight of the creatures. Listening to Lorn's words as he followed suit. The beast charged forward, the Padawan reached for one of the blades at his side as his hand moved forward, slinging the blade forward. It spun towards its target and hit as intended. Not to bring the beats down, but to direct it towards him.

If he thought correctly, it would charge, close for his lightsaber to cut through it. And before that, there were many others at his side that had their weapons drawn as well.

 

[Phillip Slate]

Tags: Lorn Reingard Aiden Porte

To say he was terrified would be an understatement. This was nothing like the lad had faced before. This wasn't even stuff out of his nightmares as his eyes darted around in fear. He did his best to stay close, making sure to stay on the defensive as opposed to the offensive. Phillip was afraid but he was sure he'd be be able to survive. He had faith in both Lorn and Aiden. All he had to do was follow their lead. Be the kind of Jedi they were being. He could do this...

And then he heard The Voice. The Voice from The Dark that tried to slither it's way into his mind. He didn't have anything fancy to reassure him and clear his mind. No fancy crystals, no proper training for all of that. By all intents and purposes, he should have crumbled. Should have buckled under the fear but there was something that Phillip was more afraid of. Failing the Jedi. They might have been parasites. Their flesh be burnt...but he wasn't going to be the reason for it as he grit his teeth. Fear meant he was alive. And that meant he could still fight.

Then they came. The shadows from the Abyss, from the Nether came snarling out onto the field. The Fear in him was telling him to run. To break formation and get away from all of this. But he would stand ready. His eyes scanning in the dark, trying to figure out the best point of attack. Defensive reactions were going to be better than offensive. As the creatures advanced, Phillip stood and waited. Waiting for the perfect opportunity for him to lash out!

He was not a proficient fighter. Not yet at least. He still only had the basic understanding of Shi-Cho under his belt but he at least knew where to stab at to hurt. Rely on his instincts. Focus on weak point. Keep aware of his surroundings at all times as he finally lunged to work, aiming to take out the nearest creature's legs. The bigger they are, the harder they fell after all.

​

 

[Cerys Dyn]

The creature filled the corridor like a nightmare made real, but Cerys was already moving.

Her sabers hissed to life with a snap-hiss of sound, twin blades casting jagged shadows across the crumbling walls. She didn't try to meet the monster's charge head-on; she twisted sideways at the last possible second, the claws screaming past her as she slashed low at one of its rear legs—a glancing blow, but enough to make it stumble.

She landed hard, boots scraping against the worn floor, breath tight in her chest. The thing was fast, stronger than it had any right to be—and worse, smart.

Cerys adjusted her stance, ready for its next move, when something prickled at the edge of her senses. Wrong. Twisted.

She turned her head just enough to catch it—the glint of metal and ghost-light rounding the far corridor. Another figure, humanoid, but wrong in ways even the Force recoiled from. The armored shape moved with predatory grace, a jagged blade forming from its arm like molten nightmare steel.

Cerys polite-cursed under her breath, barely loud enough to be heard.

"Incoming!" she called sharply, shooting a glance toward Tasia without taking her focus off the two threats now converging.

One monster was bad enough. Two meant she was going to have to be better than she'd ever been before.

| TAG: Tasia Palpatine |

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[Lorn Reingard]

Aiden Porte | Phillip Slate

​

The first beast lunged through the broken threshold, its form a nightmare. The thing's roar made the very air shudder, a low-frequency violence that Lorn felt vibrate in his ribs.

He didn't hesitate.

Lorn planted his back foot and met the creature head-on, his golden saber flashing up in a two-handed arc. The blade carved deep into the beast's shoulder, the hiss of seared flesh drowned out by its bellowing rage. It stumbled, half-blinded, just as Aiden's thrown blade buried itself in its flank, forcing the monster's head to swing toward the Padawan.

Good. They were thinking.

He didn't have time to appreciate it. From the rift poured more of them, shapes too broken and wrong to fit in this world - beastly arms, malformed wings dragging along the ground, mouths that split too wide, too deep. The Unblessed had unleashed their worst nightmares to guard the Gatehouse.

Lorn pivoted, body low and precise, his saber a golden scythe through the onslaught. He caught glimpses of Aiden moving through the chaos, a flash of blue light and controlled fury. He saw Phillip too - terrified, yes, but rooted. Holding his ground when every instinct must have screamed to run.

Good lad.

Still, it wasn't enough to fight on instinct alone. Fear made you reckless. Fear made you dead.

Between strikes, Lorn's voice cut through the comms, steady as a heartbeat.

"Phillip, guard Aiden's flank. Don't chase kills. Defend the line."

Another beast lunged - smaller, quicker - and Lorn sidestepped, letting its own momentum betray it before driving his saber clean through its midsection. The stink of burnt ichor filled the air, thick and suffocating.

The Gatehouse pulsed again, a deep, hungry throb that made the stone at their feet shudder.

A warning.

"Move!" Lorn barked. "Push forward! We breach the inner hall before they box us in!"

The only way out was through.

He surged ahead, slashing down another twisted figure that got too close, his steps pounding across the cracked black floor. Every muscle burned from the effort, every breath tasted like blood and smoke.

But he didn't slow down. He couldn't afford to.

 

[Bastila Sal-Soren]

She had to hand it to the pilot.
He could pilot pretty good. She could have probably done better, but for now she’d keep her mouth shut and let him fly the ship in the direction she wanted it to be going in.

The Old Girl, a charming name in Bastila’s opinion, was started to scream in anger, physical strain displaying everywhere she looked. Cracks appearing in the viewport, scanners which had been steadily showing the everyday activity of the ship were now displaying continual warnings and images of failure and Dagos…Dagos was using the force.

She hadn’t been expecting it, mostly because he gave no indication he was even remotely force sensitive, but as he reached out she felt the ever familiar warmth that comes with being around someone attuned to the force. He seemed to be trying to maintain himself and the ship through it and so, quietly Bastila closed her eyes and added her own inner peace to his, blanketing the ship and it’s pilot in a protective layer of energy that would hopefully mean they would both…

…why was he raising his eyebrows like that…

Why was he reaching for the hyperdrive ignition?

“Frakk.” She lurched forward as the ship seemingly skipped through the air making her insides twist and squirm, faster then light travel was always a pull to the body, but doing it over a short burst, with such aggressive timing absolutely made her want to throw up. By the Force she didn’t though. “Warn me next time.” She muttered as she again tried to spread some layer of calm over her.

Then she saw it.

“Oh chit!” He must have seen it too.

“Dagos.” She said, her eyes unable to pull away from the viewport screen and the monster that was emerging from the sky. “I think we should…go back to Blaire…” She caught herself, that wasn’t the answer. Her hand moved to her lightsaber, like it would do any good against something of that size, her resolve finally finding a place to hold.
“I don’t know about you Dagos…” She gave him a smile. “But I’d really like to rub it into my Sister’s face that I’ve killed a crazy space dragon. You keep it off us, where are your gun controls?”

​

Dagos Terrek

 

[Blaire Sal-Soren]

"Shiraya's breath, how disorganized is this relief effort?“ Blaire asked out loud after the man who was loading crates near them was absolutely no help answering Lossa's questions.

She lay a reassuring hand on Lossa's wrist, "I don't mean you darling. This whole place is a chit show. I mean really what is Kalantha doing? I understand the need to expediency for something like this but honestly to be so unprepared as this, it'll be a miracle if we do any good at all."

On any normal day Blaire would've held her tongue. Criticism of the Queen was not unheard of. Especially among the Royal houses, which of course, Blaire and Lossa both belonged but this was hardly the forum for it. She supposed she was letting the stress of the day puncture her already flimsy decorum or perhaps she spent too many trips to Malastare listening to senator Del-Finn complain.

"Would you mind helping me sort those out? I can lift 'em."

"Of course! We’ll get these sorted in no time at all."

Blaire was eager to get her hands busy and busy work it was but that was far better than sitting idle waiting for something to happen, to sit and imagine all the things that could happen, very little of which was any good, nearly every outcome she thought of on the ride over was worse than the one before. Thank Shiraya Bast had been with her, talking, keep her mind on other things. Even if those other things such as Basilia's mention of slave ships and pirates made her want to clutch her chest. At least she knew Bastilia was okay. That she'd had Brandyn, that Bast could take care of herself. She could not say the same for her son or Lossa's daughter for that matter.

"How are you doing by the way?"

Blaire paused rifling through one of the crates. She wasn't sure how to answer such a complicated question.

"I thought I'd be happier," she admitted after a long pause "but I'm more worried today than I've ever been. Knowing how close Baryn is has made it worse somehow not better, like he is trapped under ice and I can see him, I can almost touch him, we are only inches apart but no matter what I do, I can only watch as he struggles to breathe." Blaire brushed away the tears that had come upon suddenly with the heel of her hand.

"Lossa, I…"

Fear gripped her by the throat, choking away whatever she was going to say next. What was she going to say? For a half crazed second she, she wanted to admit to her cousin the part she played in all this. Had Blaire taken Lossa's child? No, she hadn't even known it was happening but Blaire had been a member of The New Way. She had stood at the side of Achan Jaikavi. She stood next to him and maybe even once saw a future with him, his future, her father's future, a future she would've been proud to help usher in.

Not at this cost. She hoped.

She may not have had a direct hand in Zeri's kidnapping but she'd done other awful things. She had played some small part in making it possible. Could she admit that to Lossa, ask for forgiveness she didn't deserve and didn't want?

She sniffed back more tears.

"Lossa, I have to…"

Terror struck her again. Even more crippling this time but it was for lacking a better term, a different flavor of terror that choked her now. Then it dawned on her. It was not her terror she tasted but someone else's, many someone's.

A side effect of whatever Achan had allowed to happen to save her life was that Blaire now had some connection to The Force. Not enough to be detected by her siblings or Lossa, yet but not some small part either. It allowed her to feel what other beings felt.

Screams from outside the cargo bay.

Blaire dropped the box she was going through and ran outside unaware if Lossa followed. There was no mistaking what caused the terror. The red mouth in the sky tore open bleeding as a monster came from the other side, from The Nether and flying toward it was the very ship she had rode in on.

No, no, no, no, you bloody fething idiots. Come back, come back!

Blaire reached for her comm to hail the ship and got nothing in return but static.

Briana is going to kill me.

| Outfit: xxx | Tag: Lossa Aureus | Equipment: xxx |​

 

[Tasia Palpatine]

Carrying: Palpatine's Saber, Hunting gear, Kiffar Blade, Underwater breather
Wearing: Raiments of Shiraya
Tag: Cerys Dyn

She saw Cerys deftly dodge the charge too and strike at the creature causing it to stagger and almost lose its footing. She was about to engage herself when she heard the padawan's shout of warning. It looks like they had so far encountered the pet and now the master was joining.

The visage of the unblessed was nothing other than evil. Tasia couldn't even make out the humanoids species or gender under the writhing and living metallic armour. She could however feel the darkness in the creature and she felt her saber hungering for the intensity of battle. She kept forward and engaged, catching the wicked looking blade with her orange plasma edge and attempting to strike with her kiffar blade to catch the umblessed off guard. Tasia could have sworn she saw a the attacker's pulse in the visible dark black veins that ran up their neck.

The unblessed parried with their other hand, a gauntlet with horrible looking claws, the impact wasn't that great but she saw the edge taken from her blade as if it had been melted as she pulled it back. "Are you OK handling the dog?" she called to Cerys as she ducked a swing that would have taken her head clear off it it had connected.

Tasia felt the surge in power as she allowed her emotions forward and focused into her vaapad form pushing forward with her lightsaber and trying to find whatever opening the assailant might leave. The rippling metal on the skin of the attacker was reacting to the mood of battle and seemed to be creeping over the attacker and redistributing material as saber and molten sword both clashed in battle and the sword attempted to reshape it's edge.

Tasia punched her fist forward with the force which slid the unblessed backwards a few yards, it wasnt much but it was breathing space for Tasia to try and take the initiative back.

​

 

[Cerys Dyn]

Cerys heard Tasia's call over the clash of battle and gritted her teeth.

"Handle the dog?" she thought bitterly. I'll handle it just fine.

The wounded beast, however, had other plans. Enraged by its injury, it lunged with feral strength, its claws slashing the air where she stood only a heartbeat before. Cerys ducked under the first strike, spun aside from the second—but the third forced her into a hard roll across the grime-slick floor. She came up into a crouch, sabers crossed instinctively just as the creature barreled toward her again.

Timing it perfectly, she threw herself sideways and slashed upward with both blades. This time, the cut bit deep—severing tendons, cutting into the beast’s side. It gave a shuddering howl and collapsed mid-charge, skidding past her and crashing into the wall with a wet, thunderous crack.

Cerys hit the ground hard, breath knocked from her lungs, scrambling to roll away just before the massive corpse could crush her beneath its weight.

She lay still for a fraction of a second, feeling the tremble of the floor under her. Then she forced herself up to one knee—just in time to see the Soulbound.

The abomination was worse now—so much worse.

Metal from the ruined hallway was peeling itself off walls and floor, absorbed into the creature's shifting mass. Spikes were forming along its back—long, needle-like protrusions that looked ready to launch like a barrage of harpoons. Metallic vines writhed and coiled, pulsing with unnatural life.

Her eyes widened.

"TASIA! IT'S ARMING ITSELF!" She shouted, voice echoing harshly down the corridor.

| TAG: Tasia Palpatine |

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[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Vendaxa
Capital Outskirts, Temporary Royal Republic Field Pavilion
Objective: Town Hall
Seth Denko Raigryn Vayd Aurelian Veruna

Sibylla let Aurelian's words wash over her as her face smoothed into a mask too composed to show offense but far too deliberate to be mistaken for anything like warmth. It was one thing to make commentary on her own abilities, another to single out her brother, Cassian Abrantes ; Really, no one could pick on him unless it was herself!

Oh Aurelian Veruna. For all his polished wit and easy charm, he was a weapon that was always hunting for a worthy scabbard. Yet Sibylla had no intention of offering herself up today.

Her gaze flicked sideways, catching the steady gleam in Seth Denko's expression, and a little further, Senator Vayd;s familiar, sardonic smile cast in sharp angles and grim amusement. Drawing a slow, careful breath, Sibylla answered, her voice as light and edged as a duelist's blade. Lysander von Ascania would be proud.

"Dear Senator Veruna," she said sweetly, "if your brilliance truly needed companions to shine, I daresay you would have found yourself in very dim company long before now."

The faintest curl lifted the corner of her mouth, allowing herself the smallest Nabooan mark of amusement, but her eyes stayed cool and cutting, never once softening.

"And as for my brother," she added in a conversational lilt, her words sliding neatly into place, "Cassian is exactly where he belongs... honoring the service House Abrantes has sworn to Naboo for generations. I find it rather endearing, really, that you seem to think legacy is only polished on marble floors."

There was no heat in her words. Only precision. Precision and purpose.

Sibylla lifted her hand once more, fluidly indicating the dais set at the heart of the town hall. There, the village magistrate and her circle of advisors waited, stiff with expectation.

"Let us proceed, gentlemen," Sibylla said, her tone polite but brisk. Without hesitation, she led the way, moving through the crowd with the kind of quiet authority that turned even wary gazes into grudging attention. Around her, the villagers shifted uneasily, their glances flickering from Sibylla to the Royal Republic banners, uneasiness almost palatable.

She opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off by a rough, barking voice --

"-- We don't need speeches!" barked an elder from the side of the hall, standing stiff and proud, every line of him carved by a lifetime of survival. His white hair was bound at the nape of his neck, and the scars spiderwebbing across his knuckles told of battles fought with fists, not promises. "We need answers!"

A low murmur rippled through the gathered townsfolk in suspicion, frustration and fear.

"What's happening to our world?" he demanded. "Why's the ground shuddering under our feet? Why do the beasts flee and the winds taste wrong? If you came to tell us lies stitched up in silk, you can turn your shuttles around now. We don't need promises. We need the truth."

 

[Kahne Porte]

Objective: The Facility
Allies: Briana Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren Rook Merriex Shiraya's Hope

"Noted." The Jedi Master whispered to Rook's words as he looked back towards the complex. He couldn't imagine what she was going through being back here after being trapped here for so long. Her knowledge was invaluable, she had become as fast ally. Her indication that this was the place, was all that he needed. Brandyn issued the command and the Jedi Master looked to Briana and followed suit as they moved up ahead. He glanced back as the guard followed behind him, getting into position.

"You know your duties, first thing is to find the children and Elias. Take over their communication's center, give us a location and upload it to either myself, Briana, Brandyn or Rook." The Jedi Master looked to the others in Shiraya's hope, they had their jobs. Locate and capture whom they could, they will be brought back for questioning on any further sights of insurrection.

"Remember what I told you..." The Jedi Master looked to the commander and gave a small smile.

"I won't forget, you have my word."

He reached for his blade, the blue beam coming to life. The Crystal Kenobi's Legacy still vibrant and alive as ever. He could still feel the connection and the strong affinity with the force as it was the first day he found the crystal.

Kahne took a deep breath.

Force give me strength....

It was then the attack had begun. Jedi and ground personnel alike would begin the siege. They knew their duties and he knew with all of his heart that they would win this day.

The Force was with them.

 

[Dagos Terrek]

In spite of the chest-numbing, throat-closing, pants-chitting terror that burned its way through every vein in his body, Dagos grinned from ear to ear at Bastila when she suggested they try and slay the dragon. He wondered how long it would take for any other ships to join them in this or if they would be on their own.

"Bet!"

This was it, his chance to live up to everything he promised he would. Every Jedi who he had met along his way, who stood with him against everything from cultists on Cato Nemodia to shopping for clothes in the lower levels on Coruscant, Briana, Iceman, Sam. Aayla, Gir. Every Master who saw his potential and tried to sharpen him into something the order could be proud of, Jairdain, Caltin, Judah, Jax. Dagos had at one time or another let each of them down. Not on purpose and not in anyway they would care for but by learning their lessons and not using them. By having their friendship and letting it grow cold. By being once called Jedi and hiding from the galaxy instead of protecting it.

Well that chit was done. He would protect the people of Vendaxa.

"Where's your gun controls?"

Without thinking Dagos reached himself across Bastila to pull a lever on the other side of the copilot's seat. There was a click and Dagos instructed the Jedi to slide back. When she did, it would reveal a porthole that led down to the front reaper mag canon. It didn't pack as much of a punch as some ships but it compensated with a high rate of fire.

"BD!" Dagos called for the droid again who appeared with the two pit droids in tow. BD chirped a question "She's down there!" Dagos pointed to the hole "BD, I need to to jack in buddy. My displays are shot to chit and I need someone to monitor the arrays and you're my guy for the job."

BD chirped something in the affirmative and gave a tiny salute. The droid might be eccentric and sometimes sassy and almost definitely in need of a memory wipe, hell maybe even an upgrade but Dag didn't trust anyone more to be his copilot. He knew the little droid once patched in would do everything it could to keep the systems running and keep them in the air.

"Clang," Dagos turned now to the pit droids. Clang was the smart one or that's how BD had described it. "You're on maintenance. If something breaks you fix it, got it?" The droid warbled something, Dagos still wasn't used to their particular dialect. "Bang," now orders for the other droid, "you're my guy on ordinance. I need to know what we have and I need it loaded in the wing canons." This droid at least saluted.

The droids hurried to their places and Dag took his back behind the controls of the ship. Pulling hard on the control stick The Old Girl swept around to take a pass at creature flying along its back toward the back of its head.

"Fire when ready!" He called to Bastila.

Bastila Sal-Soren