Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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

"Push forward! We breach the inner hall before they box us in!"

At Lorn's command a surge of energy and inspiration pushed through the Jedi Padawan. He charged in line with Lorn, the blade he wielded cutting through the grotesque figures that were created by the Unblessed. His thoughts were focused on what was going on before him. Holding each line that was captured and also pushing forward so that everyone else still had a way to go. A way to retreat when it came to that.

His thoughts did betray him for an instant, as he thought about those that were in deeper into the fray. His Father, Briana , Brandyn, Elias....

The children....

Lossa's child.....

Blaire's child.....


Blaire....

He stepped back in line, gather his footing once more, and he pushed onward. Making sure that nothing moved past him. The only thing left in his wake was the bodies of the creatures that charged them. He glanced back to Phillip Slate Phillip Slate to make sure he was okay.

Aiden was just Padawan too, and he was in no means intending to be condescending, but he had to look out for Philip too.

They had to victorious today, for everyone.

Lorn Reingard Lorn Reingard
 



Tags: Lorn Reingard Lorn Reingard Aiden Porte Aiden Porte
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Fear and terror were already taking root in Phillip's mind, the fear of what could be going on somewhere else in the battle, terror of what could await them if they failed here, but that was the good thing of training. He didn't have to think about that. The Padawan could just turn his brain off and operate off his training. Letting his saber lash out to protect himself and that would be it. At least...up until he heard Lorn's voice through the battle, snapping Phillip's brain back into focus.

He had to try and protect Aiden's back...even then, he could do that. Defense was what he was alright with. It was going out on the offensive and extending himself that he struggled with. Phillip did his best to stay in line, focusing on protecting their backs. He could trust the other two to be on the offensive. Even as the sounds echoed around him, throbbing inside of his head. There was no way he'd be forgetting these sounds anytime soon. But that could come later. Once they were done with the battle. Because they'd survive. Phillip believed that.

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Lorn could feel the tide begin to turn - not in the world around them, which still screamed and clawed with chaos - but in the rhythm of the battle. It was subtle, buried beneath the howls and the shrieks of dying beasts, but it was there. The momentum had shifted. The Vanguards were carving a path forward, and behind him, Aiden and Phillip were holding tight to the plan.

Lorn's saber cleaved downward in a final, brutal arc, splitting a beast from collarbone to hip before its twisted bulk slammed against the wall and went still. His chest rose and fell in sharp bursts, sweat streaming beneath the EVA suit's collar, stinging his eyes, but his hands never shook.

The Gatehouse interior yawned before them - half temple, half furnace. The deeper they pushed, the hotter it got. The air shimmered with the rift's unstable energy, curling the edges of reality like paper in a flame. They were in the throat of the storm now, and if they didn't hold it, the galaxy wouldn't get another chance.

He opened his comm.

"All teams, this is Commander Reingard. Gatehouse breach successful. Holding the threshold now. Begin Phase Two evacuations. You've got a window - take it."

A pause. Then he added, quieter, for the two nearest him.

"They're counting on us. All of them. We hold this place, or they don't make it out."

He looked to Aiden first - sweat-drenched but unwavering, the fight burning in him without dimming his clarity.

Then to Phillip - wide-eyed, shaken, but still upright. Still swinging. Still here.

"You're doing well," Lorn said to them both, voice steady even if his breath was fraying. "We make our stand here. We don't retreat. Not until every last one of them is out."

He stepped into the center of the Gatehouse floor, sabers crackling in the heat, and turned toward the opening rift at the far end. More would come. Worse things. He could feel them.

But so be it.

Let them come.


 
Diplomat of Naboo
Sibylla Abrantes Sibylla Abrantes Seth Denko Seth Denko Aurelian Veruna Aurelian Veruna

"Legacy isn't just polished on marble floors." He almost clapped.

Raigryn was a fossil. The young ignored him as he shuffled around the room. The old and powerful would have paid attention, but they were busy making their point.

This afforded Raigryn a particular kind of freedom of maneuver.

He watched the reactions of the locals and picked out those who seemed receptive. The odd glance told him who they were looking to. The little groups would follow their own influential figures. Raigryn wanted to find the most sympathetic leaders to target quietly.
 
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OPERATION ELYSIUM
UNBLESSED NETHERWORLD COMPLEX a.k.a. THE OPERATION SUNKILLER FACILITY
THE NETHER
Learning that Zeriana was held somewhere within the Nether, rather than realspace, had finally given Vizion a more concrete answer for why he couldn’t get a lead on the child’s location months before, even with a tethering item such as a beloved toy or lock of hair - a thing he relied on when other avenues weren’t available to him, which they wouldn’t be with a baby.

This was preferable to simply shrugging that it was likely a limitation of his experience and strength with the particular farsight tracking he was trained for, when he was known as one of the foremost trackers across the diaspora of Jedi for a reason - he was that capable.

But he wasn’t here for that role, so much as his perception, his skill with a blade, and to see through the return of that child. Those children - why was it that they came after all the children of her family, exclusively? Would her brother’s child have been taken too, if born already? An unhealthy obsession if there ever was one.

But these and all other questions were abruptly set aside when he got locked into a fight with one of the dreaded beasts of the Nether - a thing that would stalk them ceaselessly if not taken out of the picture. The thing that waylaid him for countless minutes as the others trekked ahead, but once the beast was slain, Vizion picked up the pace, fueling his speed with the power granted him (only being slowed a touch by the EVA suit he was wearing), and picking up their trail by way of the easiest, singular beacon: Briana.

Feeling her there at the other end of their bond, through the distortion of this unwelcoming place. She was keeping her focus on what was ahead, he could feel it; a rather interesting and useful discovery as of recent. He’d become so aware of all the ways it felt, in all the ways she looked at him, and turned her attention his way that he could tell she was doing it without looking. Without being present himself.

And he could tell when she wasn’t.

On his approach, he pulled back his presence in the Force tightly to a featherlight touch, rather than an announcement, one of several measures he could employ to evade notice aside from simply hugging the shadows, while he picked up on the quiet discussions between those who had gone ahead, until the attack began and their focus shifted. Then the sound of alarms rose, and he plucked one of his two hilts from the belt of his EVA suit.

A hilt that was lit in short measure when one of the despicable personnel of this facility came at him. The attack ended in a matter of seconds with a well-placed jab into the attacker’s torso, who was promptly thrown off of his orange blade thereafter with a firm telekinetic flick that sent the corpse barrelling past his companions, and into another of the Unblessed, plucking another ugly note in the discordant symphony of this situation.

Sorry,” Vizion uttered, coming up alongside the two of his companions that were closer to the entrance as they began to advance further inside, “for the hold-up.

 


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No sooner had it been, that Brandyn and Rook effectively split from the team, than before several Unblessed operatives emerged. They moved quickly, too quickly—like roaches driven from hiding, stirred by light. Rabid, almost, and ready to wreck havoc on them with reckless abandon. Was this what being in the Netherworld for so long had done to them? The thought was pushed back.

Briana ignited her saber without hesitation, muscles coiling in anticipation and the blue of her blade thrumming. Her body moved on years of honed instinct to intercept the gaggle of the agents who threw themselves at her like cannon fodder, no semblance of strategy in sight.


Why? The question looped through her mind, focus split between keeping her blade work tight and controlled while grasping to understand the logic behind their actions. Why are they so desperate? They weren't holding ground, they weren't even guarding an escape route. They were just... sacrificing themselves. Stalling.


"We don't have time for this," she bit out, gritting her teeth as her eyes narrowed and settled on those still in their way. Channeling the Force, Briana used it to launch several members of the group up into the air while Kahne took care of the rest, slamming them against the ceiling with such velocity that by the time their bodies smashed back down against the floor, none of them moved. Whether or not they were dead or unconscious... Briana didn't know. There was barely enough time to think, let alone to digest any of it — only time enough to act.

Just as she was preparing to move toward Kahne, a sharp flare of danger through the Force struck her, urgent and undeniable. Briana spun, instincts screaming, only to find an Unblessed agent she'd missed upon her right flank. It should have been too late — would have been, had Vizion not appeared, moving with near-impossible speed and precision, intercepting the attacker and dispatching them, and more besides, before Briana could even blink.


Sorry,” Vizion uttered, coming up alongside the two of his companions that were closer to the entrance as they began to advance further inside, “for the hold-up.

The instinct to move toward him, half out of relief and half out of something sharper — surged before she could think, her feet quite nearly ungrounding themselves before she caught what she was about to do and consciously forced herself to stay put. Her fist curled at her side, jaw setting before she sighed and straightened out her posture, re-centered. "I'd say you made it just in time," she quipped drily, "but, we should go, before more of these goons friends decide to show up..." Disengaging her lightsaber but not bothering to reclip it, Briana sprinted off in the direction that'd been transmitted to them — where Lossa and Blaire's children were.

---------------------------------------------------------

There'd been several more 'problems' the further down the hallway they'd gone, until they'd finally reached the end of the corridor — spent, and nearly breathless, as reinforced transparisteel doors came into view. Briana came to a slow stop, her throat bobbing. "I can feel them," she whispered, as if she didn't quite believe they'd actually get this far, come this close. Even though she'd never met Baryn, something in her recognized him. Like calling to like, soul to soul — kin. Then, there was Zeriana... that same bright, relentless spark that surrounded her mother, surrounding her. It was dim, she could tell, but there.

"Stand clear," Briana told them, igniting her blade with a snap-hiss and plunging it into the door. The Corusca Gem inside her hilt burned hotter than standard kyber, and with a little patience and effort, the Transparisteel began parting like it was made of wax as Briana carved a sharp rectangle through the door. When she was finished with the final line, she took a few steps back, pulling the force tightly around her body before using the heel of her boot to slam against the metal.

The entire center of the door crashed inward, smoke and steam belching from the breach.


 
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The door before Rook and Brandyn hissed open with a reluctant grind of hydraulics, revealing a domed chamber that bore signs of both laboratory precision and the cold sterility of a command hub. Consoles blinked in alternating hues, and diagrams of the machine’s architecture floated in blue and violet holodisplays. In the center stood a lone Unblessed scientist — thin, pale, gloved hands raised in surrender.

“Please,” the scientist said quickly, voice composed but brittle. “Let’s not be dramatic.”


Brandyn stepped in slowly, lightsaber already drawn but held in a neutral, defensive posture. His eyes scanned the room — no immediate threats, but his senses screamed of something off. His grip on the hilt tightened as he moved deliberately along the arc of the room, giving the scientist a wide berth.

"You have power that was never meant for you. You bend reality. You warp life. Don’t you see how unnatural that is?"


Brandyn didn’t answer. Not yet. He had made it to the glass window. What he saw made his stomach drop.

Two containment pods. Two children. Tubes connected. Lights pulsing in sequence. The machine thrummed with gathering energy, threads of red lightning crawling along its spines. Inside one pod, the unmistakable hue of Zeltron-pink flesh trembled. The other—so small, barely more than a swaddled silhouette.

Too close. They were far too close to losing everything.


"This world is dying because of you. The Force is not a gift. It’s an infection. And it’s time someone cured the galaxy."


Brandyn turned just in time to see the scientist's hand twitch toward a console button.

In a single breath, Brandyn moved so quickly he appeared to vanished.

The snap-hiss of his blade flared as he reappeared beside the console, slamming the glowing green saber straight through the scientist’s chest, pinning him against the controls. The man gave one strangled gasp—and then everything went wrong.

Sparks erupted. Sirens blared. The lights flickered violently, and red warning glyphs spread across the screens.

The machine… changed.

Panels along its side retracted. Mechanical claws reoriented. The energy flowing through the cables spiked to a blinding white before collapsing into a thrum of unnatural silence. For half a second, everything was still.

Then the entire complex shuddered.

Brandyn glanced at Rook, breath shallow, heart pounding.

He pressed his comm.


“…uh oh.”



 
"Jackpot!" Shinja cried out. He had found a room growing live balo mushrooms. Not exactly prepared for eating yet, but perhaps he could use them to start growing his own. He was tempted to eat these as they were, considering his last dose was starting to wear off. Then he could have sworn he heard a scream...

The Gungan shook his head, pocketed as many of the fresh mushrooms as he could, and grabbed a few of the pots that were growing them. He took his shirt off and fashioned a knapsack to carry them. Glancing out of the grow room, he noticed there seemed to be a commotion going on.

He came across a large set of durasteel doors. He had no keycard or data cylinder, so he simply smashed the console, sending sparks flying and zapping his hand a bit. "Ow." He heard the click of the doors unlocking, but they did not slide open. He rolled his eyes. "Feth. Gotta use a bit of muscle." He stuck his fingernails in the crack between the doors and caught a grip on them, exerting pressure outward. The heavy doors groaned and slid open.

Inside, he saw what looked like an observation room lined with computers lining in front of a window that looked out over some machines. There was another observation room across from this one that seemed to have some commotion going on. People wielding lightsabers? Jedi?

In this room, there was a lone person. One of the facility's scientists, no doubt. He seemed to be hiding behind the computers from the people in the other room across the way. He was peeking up out of the window and muttering "What do I do, what do I do?"

Shinja walked up behind him. "Someone have some riff with your latest experiments and break in?" he asked.

"Yeah, those accursed, infested Jedi and..." He turned to look at who he was talking to and stumbled back upon seeing the odd fellow. "Who are you? How'd you get in?"

"Jumped."

The scientist stared for a few seconds. More commotion happened over in the other room. Sparks flew from the computers.
Sparks erupted. Sirens blared. The lights flickered violently, and red warning glyphs spread across the screens.

The machine… changed.

Panels along its side retracted. Mechanical claws reoriented. The energy flowing through the cables spiked to a blinding white before collapsing into a thrum of unnatural silence. For half a second, everything was still.

Then the entire complex shuddered.

"Well, that doesn't sound good."

"I've got to get out of here!" The scientist started to dash for the door. Shinja grabbed him, holding him up by the collar.

"The lift is out. You can't leave that way." He pointed to the Jedi on the other side. "But they got in somehow. That way should be open. And I believe the fastest way would be... through this window." He lifted the man and hurled him screaming through the window. Even the transparisteel gave to the force of Shinja's slamming, creating a hole through which he jumped with the man's bleeding, crumpled body. He was no longer screaming. "Hey, you can't get out if you're sleeping! Oh well." He tossed the corpse aside.

There was a giant machine. People were inside the pods, a man and two infants. Shinja had seen and done a lot of bad things in his life of piracy. The sight itself did not faze him. Yet still... Through the lessening haze of what he called "balo bog," through the memories and regrets induced by countless decades trapped alone in the Nether, and through the twisting wrongness permeating the place, the abnormal Gungan could not help feeling a bit of... compassion? Empathy? These people likely did not deserve this. Did anyone?

He turned to the Jedi in the observation room. "This guy a friend of yours? Should I let him out?" Perhaps this could be the act that started his path to redemption, something he had thought he did not deserve.

Shinja Joka had no idea what the machines were capable of. But it shouldn't be too difficult to simply force or rip them open, right?
 
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It was a constant movement of strikes, quick, precise. It didn't stop, the creatures continued to pour through, charging in on their location. Beads of sweat showed on the Jedi's brow. Side by side they stood, until things got a little bit more complicated. The Jedi Padawan brought his saber down and then back up as a creature leapt towards him, cutting in half.

It was then he heard a rather guttural growl, just several feet away from him. One of the creatures stood almost two feet taller than him, massive, something not of this plane. The darkness radiating from it, Aiden exhaled as the creature charged him, bring his massive claws down towards him, and his saber hit the flesh of the creature, cutting through but just barely. It had an incredibly resilient outer shell it seemed.

It was quick too...

Aiden sidestepped several more times and launched a series of attacks towards the creature, hitting and piercing what flesh that he could. It had its opening finally and it caught Aiden off guard. The tail of the beast came around and hit Aiden in the front of his body, near the abdomen as he was flung back several feet. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he felt an immense pain. He was knocked on his side and the moment had him rolling to a stop on his stomach.

The Padawan took that first breath, and it hurt like hell. He spit up blood just as he turned and the creature was on him again. He fought through the pain rolling over, and the foot of the beast came slamming down. He had just enough time to bring his hand up, calling upon the force to push back against the creature. He let out a shuddered breath, as his free hand reached for the blade at his waist, pulling it from the sheath and drove the blade upwards in a quick succession against the creature to give him some ground, for aid to come to him.

Lorn Reingard Lorn Reingard Phillip Slate Phillip Slate
 



People were counting on them to hold the line. To not falter. That was what Phillip needed to hear. He was absolutely terrified, the thought of being killed scared him. Of course it did. But what scared him more was the idea of letting people down. He had a job he was given, and Phillip wouldn't falter at it. He continued to follow the basic saber drills to attack, slashing out where he could.

It was getting hotter the further they went. Phillip had to keep adjusting the grip on his saber as his hands continued to lose their hold from the sweat building. Was it nerves? The heat? A combination of both? He didn't know and he knew he couldn't care. He had to just stand his ground and make sure that he didn't fall. Even as the blood pounded in his head, even as his muscles screamed, Phillip didn't let up. This wasn't some kind of test, this wasn't training. If he failed here, the consequences would be far more fatal than anything he had faced in the past.

Then he heard it. The gutteral growl and then the sound of a body being flung back. As he swung his head over towards the sight of Aiden facing against the creature, Phillip moved before he could come up with an actual plan. He was meant to cover Aiden's back. That was what he was asked to do, and that's what he was going to try! The creature was huge but that just meant it was a bigger target for him as Phillip rushed towards the creature and then broke out into a slide across the ground, to slash at the creature's legs as he moved past it before calling upon the Force to push the creature off balance. It was an advantage to take advantage of!

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Location: Netherworld
Tags: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren | Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren | Kahne Porte Kahne Porte | Shinja Joka Shinja Joka


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Rook didn't move at first. The red emergency lights played tricks with the shadows on her face, outlining the grit smeared across her cheeks. She stared at the smoldering hole in the scientist’s chest for a beat too long, jaw clenched tight, the purple glow of her irises dim but flickering. Her fingers flexed against the stock of her rifle as she studied the fallen Unblessed before finally turning her head toward Brandyn. She wore an expression of understanding mixed with frustration.

"You couldn’t have let us question him, huh?" she said, voice low and calm, but threaded with restrained irritation. "We don’t know how this machine works, or if it even does anymore…"

She stepped past Brandyn without waiting for a reply, boots crunching on shattered glass and scorched circuitry. Her eyes scanned the readouts—what was left of them—flicking from pulse-rate lines to decaying power cores and unreadable warnings. One hand reached out, hovering over the pod containing the Zeltron child, her fingers trembling just slightly. The Force hummed around her, unwilling, wild.

Rook moved from the infant and knelt beside the middle pod, its surface fogged from the internal chill. The silhouette within so still it made her chest ache. She wiped a sleeve across the glass, revealing the faint features of a man who she assumed was Elias. He was tangled in tubes, skin pallid under the flickering lights. Rook looked to Shinja Joka Shinja Joka as her palm ghosted over the console's edge, eyes narrowing with solemnity. Her fingers danced over the control panel, trying to interpret what readouts still worked, but too much had been fried.

He's syncing with the machine," she said quietly, almost disbelieving. She looked up at Shinja, her voice flat and cold as a blade. "We pull him out wrong, we kill him. We leave him in… he finishes what they started."

Rook's hands moved across the cracked interface, rerouting power, overriding safeties, bypassing biometric locks with brute-force code and half-muttered prayers. She’d hacked Unblessed systems before, giving her a much-needed edge.

The pod hissed with decompression, releasing a swirl of cold vapor that ghosted around their feet. Just as the seal disengaged, a voice slithered from the walls, low, oily, and ancient.

"Touch the Jedi and I'll carve your minds open to feast on your fears."

The voice wasn't quite sound, but something else. It pulsed in their skulls, behind their eyes, vibrating with the weight of something that had waited too long in the dark. Rook froze for only a heartbeat. Her eyes narrowed. "I remember you," she said, soft and sharp. "You betrayed everything... for this?"

In her moment of distraction, someone threw the final switch. All three pods opened.

Elias arched upward with a sudden gasp, eyes wide. The air in the chamber dropped, the otherworldly voice coalesced into a liquid shadow, and with a howl that wasn't human, it plunged into the Jedi’s chest. Elias's back slammed against the pod, limbs flailing, and when his eyes snapped open again… they burned with something evil inside.

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-|| Location: The Facility, Netherworld
-|| Theme: The Normandy

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I-I,” Elias’ voice cracked. For a moment, he sounded okay—normal. But his tone shifted to something sinister, and unearthly blend of man and demon.

I have… betrayed… nothing,” it worked up to say.

Elias reached for Rook’s hand, desperately trying to pull himself away from the darkness inside, but it overpowered his already weakened body with ease. An unmitigated Force-push ripped from his fingertips directly at Rook.

The blast hit her square in the chest as a raw, unrefined wave of power that threw her backward like a ragdoll. She slammed into a support pillar with a grunt, her breath torn from her lungs, armor plates screeching against durasteel. Elias—no, something wearing Elias—stepped out of the pod with eerie grace, his wasted frame now taut with unnatural strength, bones and joints moving with jarring precision.

He cracked his neck once to each side, eyes glowing with a deep magenta hue.

"Three more Jedi," the voice purred from his mouth, distorted, layered.

"Yes… that would feed the lattice well. Make the machine sing."

He reached down and yanked Rook's sword from its scabbard where it had fallen, the blade humming to life with a distorted, unstable thrum. Turning toward Shinja and the Sal-Sorens, Elias’ possessed face twisted into a grin far too wide.

"Let's begin."

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The Jedi Master had seen and fought in wars many times before. This was just something else entirely. He could see what she could. The....fear? The blind devotion to such an act, something that could essentially wipe millions of lives. These were people, just like them he wasn't sure where they were found. But he would hope they would never see the light of day again.

It was harsh, but so was kidnaping the children, innocence in its almost purest form. And what they could or had done to Elias, it was something beyond the scopes that Justice could dish out in reaction. The Jedi Master rarely got this way, it was quite some time ago. He recalled Lothal, fighting against the Supreme Leader Sieger Ren. That seemed like a lifetime ago. That was a different war then, much different.


Vizion had arrived, very grateful for that. "Good to see you Vizion." Kahne spoke with a small nod and look of determination. As they both proceeded in time, Kahne could see several of his group in trouble. "Go, I'll catch up." The Jedi Master spoke as he utilized the force to speed up, quickly and with deadly precision did he strike the creatures down. The Jedi's radiance emitting like an invisible shield, inspiring those in his retinue. He could not command them to come on this mission. Most had families here, and they knew what they were fighting for. Their bravery and courage, just like those Jedi that were here today. He was not going to let them down. "Move to the front, guard this entrance while we rescue those inside."

The Jedi Master began to move through hallways, and then something strange happened. The facility itself shuddered, a tremor deep from within.

The dark side was lashing out at him, filling his mind with the memories of the past.

****************

"Come on, Dad... We need to huff it if we're going to catch this bus,"

"Well, I was thinking we could possibly expand and remodel the bunkhouse to accommodate the new farm workers, keeping the main house for our family

"So... What brings you to Coruscant, hmm? Council business? Can't believe Mom let you out of her sight. Or... are you in the dog house again?"

"I keep...trying to find a point in it all. Why he died... trying to make sense of it. I was taught that the Force has a will, that it leads us... but I don't feel led..."

"I believe in hope for them. I fight for that hope. Train the Shirayan Jedi to be bastions of it. What I believe about myself is perhaps another question entirely."

"Ya know, what do you get up to out here? This is just a vacation, but... I could see myself settling down and staying a while, after I find someone to work and manage the bar Ryv opened on Denon."


"I love you, Kahne. Always have, always will. You know that, right?


***************

The voices filled his mind, but his determination and will was strong, his affinity with the lightside of the force working as a shield against the constant lashes that were sent out.

"I've played this game before, you will not win." The Jedi Master spoke outwards, to the impending darkness, his words spoken as a shockwave out against the darkness.....

They will all die...

every

single

one

The structure and complex shuddered again and a tremor in force was felt. Something else had awoken, dark, twisted and.....evil.

Elias..... His name went across his mind as he picked up the pace, to catch up with his companions. The closer he got, he could feel their presence and the shade of whatever evil this was. It wouldn't win, it couldn't. All that they had fought for, Briana, Brandyn, Vizion, Lorn, Elias...all of them.

It will not be end, he would not allow it.


Vizion Trozky Vizion Trozky Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren Rook Merriex Rook Merriex Elias Edo Elias Edo Shinja Joka Shinja Joka
 
"I lost visuals."

Are you a Jedi or not?!

Dagos thought unhelpfully as every muscle in his body strained to their limit as he pulled hard on the yoke trying to keep a safe distance between The Old Girl and the thing trying to kill her.

Judging from the Force damned screaming of the hull, the ominous hissing from burst pipes, the sparks from wrent wiring, the unceasing blaring of Force knows how many alarms, and the undecipherable but obviously panicked overlapping chatter of droid-speak, she was at least twice the Jedi that he was a pilot.

Sweat poured from him, stinging his eyes, he didn't know if it was only from the heat of the cabin as it filled with acrid smelling smoke and was devoid now of any cooling or if his pounding heart, floating stomach, and dry mouth had anything to do with it.

What did he have to worry about anyway? He was only in a dog fight against a giant malformed nether dragon with the Grand Master's little sister. If the worst happened at least he'd be too dead to get in any trouble.

They could not fight this thing separately. Dagos tried to find Bastilia in The Force and could not see beyond himself; beyond his struggle to keep the ship in as many pieces would keep them alive, beyond his discomfort at being suffocated by sweltering heat in side the cabin as power was either diverted from the atmocooling or just lost entirely, beyond his anxiety over be overwhelmed with sounds. Droid speak, comm chatter, electric buzzing and the occasional snap-pop of exposed wiring, all together with a dozen alarms going off so rapidly BD had no time to even shut them down let alone fix them before a new one cropped up.

He couldn't see beyond his fear.

Dagos didn't fuck with fear. There was no time for it today and his heart never held no room for it.

He allowed himself to be surrounded more fully by the Force. He went deeper. It was not meditation, but it was close. To Dagos, the Force was a jungle. The heat of the cabin was replaced with humidity so thick it weighed him down. The buzzing and screaming alarms were drowned out by the calls of birds, bugs, and beasties of all kinds, as all living things made up The Force.

The jungle surrounded him. He felt things he didn't see. They were all color and song. Every shade of color he could imagine, blue, purple, yellow, green, seemed to get brighter or even change color as their songs flowed through the force and his spirit. He pushed his connection further. The bright colors, the joy of their song, and the tranquil feeling they provided, gave way now to the heart of the jungle, to darkness.

True darkness. It was as though this place in the Force had not seen the sun for decades, centuries even. Places where the grass was a dark shade of blue and was covered by gnarled twisting plants that struggled to find any light. Places where hunger lived, where hate ruled and the desperate went to seek salvation.

He should pull himself away, he knew, away from The Dark but he could not help but stare.

There were answers there; he could feel it. No. He could not go there. But why? A voice asked. Why should he fear that place? The Dark. It was as natural as the light, the jungle proved as much. No.

Dagos had touched the dark before and knew he would again but not today.

Dagos was not alone in his jungle. There was a light in the jungle that Dagos knew to be Bastilia and above them a storm of swirling chaos. An impossibly heavy curtain of black, lighting swirled around the formation, lashing indiscriminately in every direction. The enemy.

Dagos reached his light for Bastilia's. To connect with her in The Force and become more than either of them could ever hope to be on their own, to erase all fear and stand together as warriors of light and protectors of life.

The Old Girl shook violently as the attack from above finally came.

"Power to the dorsal shields."

The Jedi's prayers had been answered and thank the Force or the would've been ripped to shreds right then and there. Now however they had a chance to revel in their doom before it came.

The alarms ceased but brought no relief as the silence was the definition of ominous. Claws and teeth tore into the durasteel until a blast of coolant fired down the beast's throat. It released the ship and they began to plummet like a stone.

Bastila Sal-Soren Bastila Sal-Soren
 
If there was time in the current situation to give Phillip Slate Phillip Slate a hug, he probably would have. He by no means wasn't trying to sound condescending, Philip's quick thinking and nice moves had provided just what Aiden had needed to get free. Another wave of force energy from Aiden, combined with Philips own has put the beast on its back.

Aiden scrambled to his feet, no doubt high adrenaline coursing through him right now. That seemingly ignored the pains against him, and dribble of blood that rolled from his mouth.

Concentrated fire against the beast and it wasn't long before it was struck dead. Aiden took a few raspy and deep breaths, trying to gain his bearings once again before more creatures joined the fray.

"Thank you." Aiden said with a small nod and smile. He turned back towards the fray and glanced to Lorn Reingard Lorn Reingard

There was a small tremble within the earth of this place, sending a tremor of dark energy that even Aiden with force capabilities could sense.

"What was that?"
 
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OPERATION ELYSIUM
UNBLESSED NETHERWORLD COMPLEX a.k.a. THE OPERATION SUNKILLER FACILITY
THE NETHER
Vizion's focus was drawn to the blip of a moment that Briana fought that sudden urge, willing herself to stay put, but he was just as soon pulled away from the stray thoughts that brought up.

"Good to see you Vizion." He flicked a glance at Kahne, "Likewise," he clipped, before turning his attention back to what he imagined was only a lull in what else they might face, here, but then, that foreboding feeling was all over the Netherworld thus far. He was looking forward to getting out of this realm, already.

"I'd say you made it just in time," Briana quipped drily, "but, we should go, before more of these goons friends decide to show up..." Vizion thumbed off the blade in his hand, extinguishing the orange glow, "Don't want to linger in this place any longer than we have to," came his firm agreement, while Briana disengaged her own lightsaber. "Go, I'll catch up," Kahne insisted.

Neither of the knights needed to be told that twice. Briana took off, and Vizion followed in pursuit.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Vizion caught his breath on the slowdown, recovering from the rush and ordeal of reaching those doors with each pace that brought the two Jedi closer to them. He nodded, getting a sense of the presences within as she did, and beneath the pulse of the living - familiar and not - the tinge of death that must have happened to secure the location.

Viz stepped back, half of his attention on the doors and Briana while she began to carve into them, and the rest set on detecting anything that could throw a new wrench into their mission. The Nether was full of such surprises, this facility seemed to mimic that fact, and he wouldn’t be left twiddling his thumbs, as the empyrean seemed to pick up on his gaze.

Just when Briana was close to finishing with creating for them an opening, Kahne arrived, and the atmosphere shifted, almost as if in response. Vizion stepped forward, not taking the time to acknowledge the Master’s return to their company, drawn forward by the well of darkness that was in sudden bloom as the cut rectangle was nearly done, the glow-edged shape kicking up a billow of smoke and steam when it thudded against the floor. A careful hand on her shoulder in one moment-

Wait.

-and slipping past her in the next; for all of Briana's strengths as a Jedi, she was not possessed of his iron will, his resistances and immunities. The Brentaalan walked into the cloud of smoke and still rather warm steam, warding it away from himself with a tight bubble of protection. Voices became clearer as the noise from the door waned, but it wasn’t the discourse that caused him to light the one hilt he had in his grasp.

It was the telling thud of a body smacking into durasteel that brought forth that characteristic snap-hiss, and glow of orange in the smoke. He could barely parse the layers of man and other in the only voice now making claims that could not - would not - come to pass, but the unnatural blend would be enough to tell what this was.

The only thing that will be singing, demon,” Vizion replied firmly, his face impassive as he emerged from the waning smoke and set eyes on Elias… no, the thing that inhabited Elias, “is your banished screams.

Six against one? He didn’t want to be overconfident with an unknown, but those were decent odds.

 
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He's syncing with the machine," she said quietly, almost disbelieving. She looked up at Shinja, her voice flat and cold as a blade. "We pull him out wrong, we kill him. We leave him in… he finishes what they started."
"Sounds worth the risk to me, then." Shinja started trying to pull open the machine. It groaned a bit under the pressure. However, he was momentarily distracted by the unknown voice. "My, what an ugly voice." He laughed. "Fear? Ha! Whoever or whatever you are, I doubt you've witnessed anything like what I have."

Unfortunately, that moment of distraction had allowed the process to finish, whatever that process was. The lid flew open with a jerk, sending Shinja flying high into the air. The man that stepped out and immediately knocked the Jedi woman against the wall with the Force and took her lightsaber.

"Humans are so fragile. I thought Jedi were tougher than that." The Gungan did a flip in the air to right himself as he plummeted toward the seemingly possessed man. He aimed a powerful kick for the back of his head, seeing as he seemed to be preoccupied with the other Jedi.

He rolled out of the way of any strikes that might come his way upon landing. "You know, they acted like you were a friend. It's rather rude to attack them like that. But you're not my friend. I have no problem fighting you. Though, if you calm down, maybe we could become friends. I'd rather not have to kill you."

Shinja could feel the balos wearing off. He was afraid of what might happen if they wore off completely while he was fighting.

 

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Location: Netherworld
Tags: Brandyn Sal-Soren Brandyn Sal-Soren | Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren | Kahne Porte Kahne Porte | Shinja Joka Shinja Joka | Vizion Trozky Vizion Trozky


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Rook’s lungs were deflated on impact like forgotten party balloons. All the breath was knocked from her as she slammed into the wall, leaving her gasping on the floor. Through eyelids that fought to remain open, she watched in paralyzed horror as the Archon articulated Elias’ joints toward her blade. Seeing his demonic flesh wrap itself around the hilt made her stomach recoil in disgust.

She made that sword to kill demons, not empower them.

Run,” she whispered hoarsely. “Get- out-

It was all she could do to try and save the closest things she had to friends.

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-|| Location: The Facility, Netherworld
-|| Theme: The Normandy

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H-help… me… SILENCE, WORM!

The imposter wearing Elias like a coat stepped forward, distorting the man’s kind features into expressions of malice and hatred that were so unlike him they seemed uncanny. He raised his sword, readying for a deadly strike against Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren but was surprised by the contact of a Gungan foot against his back.

Strengthened by the Archon but still flesh despite the power surge, Elias grunted and stumbled forward. With his already keen senses exacerbated by the Archon’s near-omnipotent nature, however, Elias could sense a coordinated effort from the Jedi… he used the stumble to roll toward Vizion Trozky Vizion Trozky and Briana, bringing Rook’s sword up to bite into the orange lightsaber with his right hand.

With the other, he used the Force to grip Briana’s abdomen in a ghostly grasp before throwing her aside against a wall of machinery and monitors.

Dig deeper, Jedi,” the Archon hissed through Elias’ lips from the other side of the cross-blade block to Viz.

Make your midichlorians dance.

From under the locked blades, Elias threw a sucker punch aimed at the Jedi’s lower torso. A dishonorable tactic employed by a creature unburdened by honor and convention.

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The sickening aura of the darkside twisted and tainted every corner of the vicinity in which it profaned when they entered the room... but there was something else beneath that, curling in the shadows. A faint, flickering, dying light.

Shivers skittered down her spine, chaos rapidly overtaking the scene within moments, that dark presence she felt writhing over her bones at the sound of Elias voice fading and then sharpening, warping into something unnatural.

Everything that followed afterwards, played out too quickly to fully register.


"Don't," she told Vizion as he raised his blade, placing her hand on his forearm to stay his hand. She might have said more, might have tried to collaborate some sort of plan that would save the once-council members life, but the speed with which Elias moved gave them no time.


The pressure against her abdomen was like a durasteel battering ram. One moment she was standing side by side with Vizion and Kahne, the next she was airborne, launched across the room and flung aside like a rag doll.

Breath whooshed from her lungs and brutal tears stung the corners of her eyes when her spine connected against the wall with a loud and punishing SMACK.

She barely managed to catch herself on her knees and not flat on her face on the floor. Blue eyes were squeezed closed, fighting to get a wisp of air down her throat and into lungs that'd immediately started burning.

Breathe, her mind urged, but her body rebelled.

Pain radiated from ribs that'd been broken so many times, she immediately recognized the pain... and knew the injury might have been far worse, had it not been for the...Gungan?? Who'd landed a blow on the back of the possessed Elias, buying her seconds she didn't have to spare.

Grinding her teeth, Briana drew on the Force and pressed it into the feeling of that pain trying to keep her down, used it as a brace around her broken frame to force herself back to her swaying feet as she tried to bring the spinning room into focus — her attention and focus split in three different directions. Trying to come up with a split second solution for a fight they'd been unprepared for.

She'd come here in the hope to save them all, that was the goal. But now... with blood coating her mouth and fire burning her ribs, a kernel of doubt settled into her gut.

She was a fighter, someone who craved challenges, bore on through the exhaustion, and even relished the satisfaction of winning... someone whom, in different circumstances, would have loved nothing more than to go straight back into the fray. But, this was different. The cost of victory might mean lives she couldn't bear to lose. Winning this fight wasn't worth Elias' life, wasn't worth Vizion's life, Rooks life, Brandyn's, Kahnes, the lives of Blaire and Lossa's children. But how did she protect all of them? How did they all get out of this alive?

Her gaze flickered to Rook's prone form, then to the pods where the children still laid. Innocents.

Blue orbs then panned to Vizion holding the line, and her body moved of its own volition, intercepting the strike that'd been aimed for him as if every shred of pain had been instantly banished. All she could see was Astor, all she could feel was that crushing weight and that endless fog. If her heart could have fallen out of her chest, it would have. Instead, it sunk to the deepest depths with the fear and desperation that started to engulf her. She couldn't lose him, couldn't lose any of them!

Guard up, the snap-hiss of her blade lit in a lighting-fast strike that caught the corrupted blade. With a grunt she braced against the impact, strengthened by the augmentation of the Force surrounding her as she fought to redirecting the beasts momentum, twisting until his blade slid off hers and she could force the possessed Elias to spin off to the side, long enough to hopefully give all of them time to recalibrate.


"Brandyn!" She shouted between the shallow breaths of her cracked ribs, voice cutting through the chaos like a whip. "Get Rook. Get the kids! GET OUT!" It was clear from the tone in her voice that there was no room for argument. She still didn't know how to save Elias, but they could get the children out. They could get Rook out.


 
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