Junction Shadows Over Endor | GA & SO Junction of S'krrr and Empty Hex

[Delsin Shaw]

OBJECTIVE I: Fortification
TAGS: Quinn Varanin | CT-312 | Jacen Breska | Amelia von Sorenn |

The comment made of being much like her master brought the smile upon my face to widen. However, plans would be changed. Two troopers came up. One carrying an Ewok who was almost out, but not quite. And another that seemed to have quite the mouth on him. One I recognized quickly. Having previously worked with her. I smiled and nodded my head towards them as Quinn introduced me.

"312 I have already met. Shall we say, she was an aid to research in the past."

Moving over to the Ewok, as Quinn had knocked it out, I knelt down and let my fingers play through the creatures fur. Matted and not super well kept, but it was furry and soft despite the raggedness of it. I removed the little patches of clothing it wore from its head. Seeing the little ears pop out and nodded my head.

Quinn posed a question of the Lizards. Ones that blocked usage of the force. Nodding to her while looking up from my crouched position, It was then that I felt something. A void. A lack of something. Turning around to the two soldiers.

"Since you brought me something, I shall pay you."

Moving over to one of the set ups of implements, I grabbed two little amulets. As soon as I grabbed them, I could feel the force leave me. A blind effect of the force. Unable to really feel anything for the moment. Moving back over to the soldiers, I handed them both one.

"Take these. It will help when facing Jedi or other Force Users. Hides you within the Force. makes it harder for them to see you, feel you, and even affect you mentally. So use it wisely."

Once it was handed to them, I could feel the force flow back into my veins. Sensing Quinn once more.

"Alright, it looks like we may be having something else near us. Prepare yourselves for something. Just... not sure what."

 

[Vera Noble]

Endor

​

Tag: Corazona von Ascania Jackson Lesan Reina Daival

Vera's feet barely had time to shift before the vines wrapped around her, strong but not painful, tugging her up into the air like a prize on display. She blinked once, then slowly turned her head to stare down at Cora with narrowed eyes. There was no actual anger behind it, but it was the kind of look that carried a very clear message.

This. Is. Not. Over.

Her arms were pinned to her sides, but her expression did all the talking. She tilted her head just slightly toward Reina and Jackson and raised a single eyebrow.

"No pressure or anything," she called down to them, voice completely deadpan. "But if either of you mess this up, I'm going to start describing your future visions in vivid detail."

She let that hang for a second, then grinned.

"And I promise, I will find every terrible detail hiding in your destiny."

The vines gave a faint rustle around her as if they were just as entertained. Vera relaxed into the hold a bit more, not resisting the pull, and let herself focus.

They better get this right, or Cora was going to regret this for the rest of her life.

​

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

Objective I:
Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Viers Connory Lucette Aris Noble

Zaiya never lit her saber first.

And while odds were Aris sensed the woman leaping to attack him, the Lovalla could the sithspawn horde coming faster than he did. But it didn't matter; they had to trust each other to do what they must.

And just like that, the swarm came, their fangs and claws and gleaming eyes. Zaiya was already moving, grabbing the tiny white spheres from her belt. Her bioluminescent mottled stripes rippled in determination with citrine and cobalt hues even as the underbrush exploded with movement.

She didn't need a blade to make a point.

A dozen stun pearls clinked from her hand in a quick toss, bouncing across the jungle floor like spilled candy. Each pearl pulsed once, then exploded outward in bright flashes of blue white charge, arcs of ionized stun energy crackling through the air in tight, humming bursts.

Three-meter radius each and non lethal, but still enough to drop most creatures midlunge.

The shockwaves rippled through the brush, and she used the confusion. With a sharp breath, Zaiya swept her arm in a wide arc in front of her, and the Force obeyed, the Lovalla slamming outward in a clean blast. The nearest Sithspawn crumpled mid-leap, crashing into the twisted trunk of a felled tree.

But... wait. What was that?!

A flash of bioluminescence darted through the smoke.

Small, round, with sharp teeth and a wagging... wait is that a fin?

Zaiya blinked.

All of a sudden, something came right at her, perhaps confusing her bioluminescence as some sort of bright sign that said, come take a bite out of me.

Zaiya gave a small 'Eep' sound, before jumping back to try and avoid it trying to take a chunk out of her glowing arm.

"Oh no you don't!"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Carnifex's blade cut through empty air, mere millimeters separating the crackling plasma and Thurion's greaves. The Eternal Father watched with frigid detachment as the Lion King landed on the top of the Crestfallen, the reinforced hull just managing to not buckle beneath the strength of the King of Midvinter. Carnifex readjusted His stance, feeling the twisting and twirling currents in the Force as His adversary prepared for another assault; centering Himself in the deepest well of the Dark Side.

No words passed beyond the Dark Lord's snarling helmet, He was as silent as a tomb; utterly consumed by pure concentration. Blind to all beyond the helmet's confines, He could only rely upon the Dark Side in it's entirety. Against the withering darkness, Thurion radiated like a supernova. It would have been blinding if He saw with mortal sight, but to His sharply honed connection with the Dark Side, it barely even bothered Him.

The vibrations from Thurion leaping finally buckled in the armor plating of the sleek black shuttle beneath his feet, Carnifex watching through the Force as Thurion became a star unlike any other in the night sky. The Light Side wreathed him in fiery golden energy, energy that He could see from behind the shuddered sockets of His helmet. Primal instinct warned Him to move, to scramble out from under the crushing weight of the meteor now bearing down on Him.

But Carnifex disobeyed such primordial fear.

He stood, unmoved and unyielding, beneath the falling star. Rooted, blackened greaves cracking the permacrete beneath Him as He steadied and widened His stance. His lightsaber slipped from His grasp, but it did not tumble to the ground. It hovered patiently at His side, the plasma blade retracting back into the emitter with a sharp and angry hiss. His arms outstretched, blood-red lightning dancing and crackling over the surface of His limbs. Scintillating energy warbled in the air between Himself and the oncoming Jedi Master, runic circuitry flaring to life along His armor as the true power of His regalia was put to the test.

Thurion met the bulwark with the Force of an exploding warhead, a deafening shockwave radiating out from the point of impact; rattling the foundations of Navarro City for kilometers around. The sheer force of Thurion's blazing attack pressed down on the Dark Lord, the ground beneath His feet further shattering beneath the strain. The barrier flexed and cracked, and then Carnifex let it burst at the moment of greatest tension. In a thunderous burst, the Butcher was suddenly upon the Lion. And as the barrier shattered, so too did the momentary stillness within Him, giving way to a surging tide of annihilating will. His arms rushed forward, clawed gauntlets reaching for Heavenshield's armored form, indomitable power flowing from deep within Him right to the very tips of His fingers.

Golden flames seared bright against the Dark Lord's alchemized armor, Light clashing with Darkness in a corona of molten brilliance and howling shadow. The Lion's momentum was arrested in a single monstrous motion, the sheer force of the impact funneling down through Carnifex's rooted stance. The ground beneath His feet utterly broke, deep fissures spider-webbing out in all directions in an eruption of stone, rebar, and dust. Deft fingers sought to find purchase around Thurion's waist and lower torso, seeking to hold on tight and a crushing grip.

With enough purchase, Carnifex would attempt to twist His massive frame, pivoting at the hips, and throw Thurion towards the far wall of the starport. The sheer power given to such an action would've been enough to send Thurion flying through the wall, and potentially through adjacent buildings, were it successful. All the while, there was no emotion etched across His leonine visage. No triumph. No rage. Only the certainty of emptiness, the all consuming entropy of the void.

And in the end, even the void devoured the sun.

Thurion Heavenshield | Azurine Varek ​

 

[Aris Noble]

"Surprise."

For once, it was. The helmet Aris wore kept him from being overstimulated by everything going on around him, but it also kept him from being able to notice the things he normally would. Heartbeats, breathing; undamped he could hear it all. There was a crack as the fist slammed into his mask. He blinked in surprise, his head slightly turned.

Stealth, in a field of monsters like this? Even dampened he wouldn't have missed their approach visually. Another heartbeat, focused in the distance. And another. They were under attack? By people, not just the Sithspawn?

So they were a threat, after all?

"Seszil."

The blade on his hip flew out on it's own accord, the razor edge hacking right for Viers as he steadied his footing from the punch.

"They're Sith! Domxite, send the message!" His fist came around shortly after Seszil, though he aimed for the trunk of the nearby tree. It shattered in a cacophony of splinters before he took hold of the falling trunk and swung.

Viers Connory | Zaiya Ceti | Lucette

 

[Ran Serys]

The saboteur's thoughts crashed against the barriers of Ran's mind. Their words were missed but Ran understood their intention. Death. The death of Ran and that death only. Knowing that, Ran was sure there was no way to a peaceful resolution, so the mirialan readied herself for combat. With her stance low and her lightsaber high, she began to truly confront the enemy before her. Not a Sith Lord or a Slicer. This enemy was a being of dastardly brilliance and equal parts madness. The Force was with them which only succeeded in making them more dangerous. Ran had faced her share of horrible brutes and other beings of evil ambition, but never had she been so perplexed by a foe such as this.

As the mine went off and smoke and dust flew, a cloud of heat and jungle moisture hit them and created a fog. Ran didn't flinch. Instead she thumbed the hilt's switch and the light of her saber vanished. Then so did she, as she disappeared into the mist.

The knight had become a ghost. To the naked eye, she was a shadow, but to the eye of technology, she was not quite so elusive. Ran knew this, and she could feel danger aimed in her direction. No matter where she moved, the sight on the saboteur's lightning powered weapon followed, and then so did the lightning.

Sorcery and technology in concert as the lightning lanced in Ran's direction. She amplified her reflexes with the force. Time seemed to slow around her, but not enough. She did her best to absorb the energy but still the savage impact knocked her off of her feet and sent her flailing into the wide base of an endor tree.

The weapon could take out smaller aircraft. Levying it against an ordinary being was a death sentence. However, Ran was no ordinary being. The Knight boasted a resistance to dark side sorcery after its mark was made permanent upon her in childhood. Her mutations, the very ones the Sith had inflicted upon her with secret technologies for their benefit, only made her stronger in her fight against them. Her training as a Jedi pushed her beyond the grasp of men and made her an almost mythic hero. Although that was hard to believe as she lay under shade of tree unmoving, if only for a moment.

The Jedi struggled to her knee and then her feet after the mighty blast. "You will not- be doing that- again!" She said exasperated, curling her hand into a fist as she attempted to crush the saboteur's powerful weapon with the force.

Tags: Vakhari Lutris
​

 

[Vakhari Lutris]

Tag: Ran Serys

A quadrupedal droid would skitter up onto her shoulder, focused right where Ran had been pushed back.

"Vitals still stable, target had not been hit with max capacity."

Echoes out from her mask, the girl sounding like a droid herself.

It was then that she felt it, the crushing force that had targeted her weapon. The metal plating crunching for a moment before she would use her own force to stabilize the attack, the damage had been done however... It was only good for one more shot. But such was the way of it, everything was just a tool.

The Jedi had been knocked back for now, still getting up from the blast. For now M0rtis would start to drag off the damaged weapon as Vakhari pulled out something more personal.

A quick poke into her arm, the girl's blood would float in a ritualistic circle around her. A plain looking book gently resting in one hand, the thorned vines within the field would dance in brutal harmony.

All the while, the wires had reached their target. Dragging the corpse of the dead lieutenant to the sickened tower, the stranger never planned to just slice it.

Tech, rot, and flesh. All made one as the beast came to life, its roars and snarls having a discombobulating crackling of machinery and faint human vocals.

"I would adore to get a look at all of you."

There wasn't any aggression in her voice, it was calm, cheerful even. Maintaining a level of focus that would mimic the Jedi's own even as she jumped up to ride the creature she had made.

Her white colored glove would reach out, an odd sensation was able to be felt in Ran's dominant leg. Her blood was starting to bend to the will of this strange woman, if unable to repel it... It was time to act.

The other gloved hand would seek to pull the tree behind Ran down onto her as she was dealing with the blood magic, with the book floating next to Vakhari.​

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Darth Prazutis

The shot landed as intended, and did nothing. As intended.

Jonyna knew better than to take on Prazitus on his home turf. She knew better than to make herself known.

No, this had never been intended to be an assassination. This was a mousetrap. The lure of the fishing rod had been cast, and now Jonyna intended to draw out Prazitus's men. One by one.

Hiding in the city was a matter of fortitude. She hide her body temperature by altering her shifting the air around her. Hide her footsteps the same. She asked the Force to do so, not daring doing so herself. Body heat, breathing, it was all shifted to be unnoticable. Untraceable. She moved with the wind itself, leaving only what she wanted them to know. Trails that led nowhere, or where ever she needed them to. Using balls of flame to mimic her body signature. Making the wind sing her footsteps elsewhere. The monsters would follow her nowhere.

And she would track them. Through disruption of the air, through their simple presence within the wind. She could track them.

And she could kill them.

Down from above, she buried Sally into the neck of one of them, having isolated one from the pack. Without a word, she once more scaled the walls of the city.

She was a Cathpa today. A hunter, intending to do one thing.

Strip the monster of his minions.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

The Blackblade didn't scream when the blade found his neck. He didn't even grunt. The only sound was the soft whir of ruptured servos and the hiss of exhaled heat as the blade punctured the hardened plate. When Jonyna buried her weapon into the monster's spine, she didn't strike a man. She struck a system, a node within something far larger, and far hungrier. A monster beyond words, and as the Blackblade fell from the precipice, he didn't crumple. He folded, legs locking, arms seizing as the giants massive frame stiffened in death, even in defeat seeking posture for further deployment. A single red beacon blinked once on his visor. Then all hell changed frequency. The darkness knew. The kill was recorded. Bloodless, efficient. But to kill one was never to weaken the whole. It was to provoke the hive and provoke it did. Over from one rooftop to the next, the storm shifted. The ashen skies above flickered as if caught in the moment of inhalation. Power grids across half the city surged and faltered. For a breathless moment, the entire southern grid of Nevarro's sprawl dimmed, and from the choking dark, a pulse went out, only it was deep, resonant and truly wrong. It was a signal. The prey had struck first and now?

Now it would be seen. Below the towering spires, in streets where no civilians remained and the air was heavy with unspoken atrocities, the Blackblades turned as one. Their eyes didn't flicker, they ignited. Crimson visors flared like stars glimpsed through blood smeared glass. Where they stood, the silence sharpened. The sound of the wind collapsed inward. Holograms fuzzed and vanished. Jonyna's distractions began to fail, one by one, not through error but through rejection. The environment began to refuse her tricks. It wasn't a city anymore. It was a crucible all wired together. High within the command platform, Darth Prazutis did not look up from the tactical projection when the kill report surfaced. One icon. Snuffed. He didn't speak. The platform grew colder instead, the lights dimming by a fraction, as if even photons feared the growing attention of the Mortarch. Those close enough to hear Him might've sworn they felt a breeze. But there was no wind inside the command center. That breath of air wasn't physical.

It was death noticing. "Activate Disjunction Protocol Theta-Nine." The Shadow Hand ordered. The room obeyed. Across the city, harmonic resonators buried deep within the monolithic towers activated. A tremor passed through the ferrocrete bones of Nevarro. Streetlights burst in waves, static howled from dead consoles, and through alleyways long abandoned, dissonant voices began to echo. They weren't human. They weren't Sith. They weren't anything alive. They were recordings layered a hundred deep of those who had screamed and never stopped screaming. The last gasps of vanished civilians. The final moments of those who disobeyed. The mutterings of prisoners buried in ritual pylons, half mad from Painwave exposure, their sanity crushed beneath the darkness. They played all at once, layered and filtered, just loud enough to suggest something intelligible was being spoken…just quiet enough that it always faded when one tried to listen to them. The Blackblades moved differently now. Not as men. But as vengeance incarnate.

Units reconfigured their movement patterns. Adaptive sensors stitched the building interiors into virtual overlays in real time. The scent of ionized blood hung on the air, faint, fresh. One of their own had fallen. It didn't matter how. It mattered that they answered. High atop a shattered skybridge, one of the Guard turned slowly, gaze falling toward an empty balcony...too empty. Too still. He raised one gauntlet, thumb locking a rune trigger. A pulse. Invisible to the naked eye, it ignited the magnetic lattice across three square blocks. Everything static was ignored. Everything moving? Traced. Flagged. Tracked. Five heat ghosts vanished. One remained. The anomaly. It was subtle, but it was there. Now they came. Not in unison. Not in formation. But individually. One to a quadrant. One to a zone.

They dispersed like phantoms pulled into the air by blood scent, not logic. Jonyna would feel it, not their motion, but in their absence. The kind of silence where the wind refused to blow. Where buildings began to lean in subtle wrongness. Even fire itself in its chaotic, unpredictable nature curled against the edges of its shape like it wanted to shrink away. The Blackblades hunted not like soldiers, but like sins wearing armor. She could kill again. But every strike meant another monster had her scent. Another direction. The predator she felled would not be the one that ended her. But it would always be watching, and above it all, from the black throne of Nevarro's command dais, Prazutis watched without blinking, his voice reaching no ears, but every mind. "She takes them like bones from a beast. Let her. Every corpse is a trail deeper into the net. The prey believes it stalks me. But no creature escapes the silence." The hunt no longer stalked her.

It waited.

Jonyna Si​

 

[CT-312]

//: Quinn Varanin Delsin Shaw Jacen Breska Amelia von Sorenn //:
//: Endor //:
//: Attire //:
//: Weapons: LO-18D ASSAULT RIFLE, & Vibroblade Knife//:​

CT-312 rolled her eyes behind the helmet as TK-710 was spouting nonsense, overreacting over the Ewok she was hauling around. After giving a minimal effort check-in report, she could feel a headache already forming as TK-710 nagged at her. He began to ramble more. Overexplaining. Maybe she should’ve let the Ewoks take her. It was going to be one of those missions. CT-312 watched as he bowed his head to the Princess, finally completing his check-in.

Her attention shifted as the Princess merely extended a hand out towards the squirming Ewok. The fuzzy creature slumped back into unconsciousness. CT-312 tilted her head slightly, not understanding what happened. There were no obvious tricks. No injection or pressure point. Just a gesture.

As the Princess introduced Delsin and dismissed formalities. CT-312 said nothing. Once again the Princess teased with names. As if she would ever call a superior casually by their first name during a mission. Especially one of royalty. ‘That’s bait.’ she thought flatly.

The Scout gave Delsin a nod. “Good to see you again.” A smirk flickered beneath the helmet. ‘Research.’ was definitely one way to put it. Her memory painted Delsin vividly casually dissecting bodies and holding up organs like film strips to the light. A functional kind of madness. When he’d said she “aided research,” that wasn’t entirely inaccurate. “Would it be safe to say ‘My Lord’ or just Delsin this time around, Sir?” CT-312 said with a grin hidden behind her helmet.

She watched as he examined the now sedated Ewok. Wondering if he planned on doing ‘research’ on the fuzzy creature. Then he offered her and TK-710 something. CT-312’s brow raised. 'An amulet?' The Scout took it in hand, listening at the explanation how it blurred them in the Force. Shielded them against mental probing, making them harder to sense. CT-312 hesitated only a second before raising her fist over her chest and giving a firm nod. A warrior’s salute of thanks. She didn’t really know how to feel or what to do. Never had she been given a gift, even for exchanging. Especially handing over a knocked out furball.

“Understood.” CT-312 said through the vocoder. Efficient. Respectful. Her attention shifted to the Princess. Eyes tracked, noting how the Princess’s voice trailed off as she turned to the tree line. Watching as she moved slow. Measured. Looking for something in the forest. CT-312 followed her line of sight. Nothing showed up on her HUD. No pings. No motion signatures.

Her head snapped towards Delsin as he mentioned feeling it too. Something was near and unseen. Something out of normal detection. CT-312’s shoulders tensed beneath the armor. Hand gripping the weapon tightly, ready to engage. It clearly wasn’t the Ewoks in the forest. ‘Not good.’ Taking a step forward, visor scanning the woods. “We can establish a perimeter.” Already calculating sightlines and fallback points. “Unless you have other orders for us.”

 

[Jacen Breska]

E W O K S !​

WEARING:: Jacen’s Second Legion Armor
EQUIPMENT: DC-902d
HG-88 Hand Cannon
C-11 Combat Knife
LOCATION: :: ENDOR- DEATHDROP ASSAULT ::
TAG: CT-312 Quinn Varanin Delsin Shaw

He was too smart. Much too smart. No royal would ever want to be called by their first name!
"Princess it is," he said again with a nod, fighting the urge to bow. This was the Heir apparent, after all. The next to rule this Empire he fought for. If he called her by her first name that'd be much too familiar. He wasn't worth that honor. He was just 710, that's all he needed to be.
"Pleasure, Lord Shaw," he said, bowing his head while ignoring 312's question about it. If she wanted to get her self pasted by forgetting the golden rule, that was her business.
If they weren't in trooper armor, they were Sith Lords. That was the rule. Better to look like a fool than end up in pieces.
He held his hand out and bowed again as the Lord Shaw handed him and 312 each an amulet. The explanation of what it did made him smile underneath his helmet. He observed the little spherical thing, then opened a compartment on his gauntlet and slotted it in, before sealing the compartment shut. "Safe and sound," he muttered, breathing a sigh of relief.
The moment he touched it, he remembered what peace felt like. No Force eyes on him. No weight on his chest. He'd treasure this thing, probably more then any other thing he'd gotten in his life.

He looked back at Lord Shaw, and bowed his head again, "Thank you, My Lord." But as he talked of feeling something unseen, suddenly Jacen felt very alien and turned around, raising his weapon to the treeline. "It's those little furry bastards and their little beady eyes I'm telling you. Watching." He exhaled slowly, trying to keep his composure, and listened to 312. He followed suite, looking up in the trees, eyeing potential ambush spots or traps. His HUD marked nothing, no movement, no signatures of any kind.
"What in the world...?" he muttered. They were murderous little beasts but still just beasts. He looked down at the Ewok behind him, snoozing peacefully. It showed up as a signature. So what was it? Something only the Sith could sense?
With a grunt, he pulled out a component of his DC-902d and replaced it with another from a kit on his leg. The weapon hummed slightly as it acclimated, but was now ready to fire particle blasts. If it was something only the Sith could sense, regular blasters wouldn't cut it.

Jacen shifted slightly, making sure to keep the spacing between him and 312 tight, cover each others blind spots, yet he also tried to remain acutely aware of where the Princess was. Not that she'd need his protection, if she couldn't protect herself Lord Shaw was right there. But still, some part of him remained determined to protect the Heir.
"I've got nothing on my scope, you?" He asked, turning his head to 312 ever so slightly and almost muttering the question, "Please say you do and it's just me."


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