Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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



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Darth Malum of House Marr Darth Malum of House Marr

Objective III: Counter Intelligence (PVE/PVP)
Mission: Catch Sith Agent Sabotaging GA Camp.
Equipment: DL-44 blaster, two vibro switch blades, holographic cloaking unit, data pad and a holo communicator.


Alek stopped in front of the weapons depot where the majority of the shells had gone missing. He looked down at the tracks of footprints that were coming in and out of the depot hoping that there was one that stood out from the others. It was a long shot. Unfortunately, there were so many footprints that looking for anything that stood out would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. He studied the crates that were missing large quantities of shells. Whoever stole them had a purpose and Alek's mind was immediately thinking the worst.

"...The Ouroboros circles..."

Alek froze in place as those words echoed in his ears. The young agent couldn't help but feel like there was a light breeze that accompanied the voice. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he looked around 360 degrees looking for the source of the voice. What could it mean? What kind of game was this? As his eyes were searching the treeline around the camp there was a loud crash and bang from behind him as a walker exploded. The screams came shortly after the explosion as Alliance troopers near the walker were engulfed in flames. The saboteur had struck again. Alek shielded his eyes with one hand as the flames engulfed all of those around it.

"...Tick Tock..."

The voice once again echoed in his ears, taunting him. Alek was sure that the voice was definitely coming from the treeline. He looked back once again at the chaos engulfing the camp as GA defense force troopers attempted to stop the fire spreading . He sighed, before walking towards the tree line disappearing into the bush around the camp. His boots snapping sticks as he left the screams and chaos in behind him in search of the perpetrator. If he was honest with himself he didn't care for the deaths of the Galactic Alliance troops he just enjoyed the thrill of the chase. Whatever game this infiltrator was playing Alek was determined to win it.











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Senator Dod reclined in his chair, visibly shifting as he listened to the remarks from Senator Feridade Parthi Feridade Parthi , who might be seen as a supporter of the Trade Federation, even though their heart had not yet faded from the years of exploitation and harsh trading methods.

The Echnai was completely correct in stating that the Alliance's present military was faltering under the assault from the Sith Empire and had even been pushed back by a weakened Dark Empire.

No amount of discussions or roundtable meetings within the Federal Assembly would remedy this situation and certainly not the lackluster leadership of their current Chancellor Organa whose appearance at this sort of Committee would guide the Senators in the right direction. Senator Kaela Verrin Kaela Verrin still suggested introducing the SIA, which was an even more misguided proposal considering the organization's overall ineptitude.

However, Senator Annasari Annasari provided a solution that would address his worries through the restructuring of Task Force Xesh.

A group of thugs dispatched to their demise would not impact his profit margins as much as deploying well-trained soldiers to the Blackwall, who could afford to pay Federation rates for food and other services.

"While I am against bringing in the Strategic Intelligence Agency for their known failure to predict and report to the Federal Assembly about the rise of our enemies such as the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders, and the Dark Empire in the Core." Monaray said with a stern expression, making his displeasure known before continuing to the topic at hand.

"Task Force Xesh would be a perfect addition to the war front with the Sith Order. Though how can we gather so many talented criminals into our ranks when half of the galaxy's most infamous and deadly reside in the Lawless space claimed by the Black Sun. We can hardly risk angering the Criminal Underworld, 10% of our economic activity is generated by them whether we like it or not." The Neimoidian expressed concern, hoping to prevent the Alliance from becoming entangled with the Black Sun, whose power and influence had enabled them to seize vast areas of space adjacent to the Alliance's border.
 
Spitfire Soul, Heart of Gold
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The Pin Drops
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Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman | Purple Bracelet
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 [x] | Lightsaber 2 [x] | Hook Swords

The stink hit her first. Azzie gritted her teeth behind the mouth filter of her mask and resisted the urge to gag. No matter how many times she reminded herself that stealth operations often meant sewers, she still hated them. The stench clung like regret—thick and impossible to ignore with humidity that clung.

Navarro City's underbelly sprawled in a maze of decaying duracrete tunnels, damp with runoff and the occasional leak from above. She kept to the shadows, boots treading lightly on slick stone. Her specialized armor, as well as her focus of the Force towards her footfalls, muffled her movement as she slipped along the walls, weaving between rusted maintenance doors and broken grates.

When the passage narrowed, Azzie stuck to the walls, springing up and letting her boots find purchase on the narrow ledges and ridges as she ran sideways over pipework. A broken drainpipe forced her to leap over a yawning chasm in the floor. She caught the edge and pulled herself up in a motion not quite as smooth as it could have been, chest heaving slightly. If this wasn't a test of how her muscles had recovered since her capture, then nothing was.

The city proper had been crawling with Thralls, yet down here it was quiet. At least until the shreaking came through the overhead grates. Horrors Azzie couldn't see at all, not from her position at least, but she could hear as clear as day. She'd heard one of them above not five minutes ago, its bone-rattling wail echoing down through a crack in the tunnel ceiling. The sound made her stomach knot.

Thurion was still topside. It made tactical sense—if the Eternal Father was focused on him, she might reach the stores at least partly unchallenged. Yet still it was hard not to look back. He was a legendary Jedi master, the Grandmaster before her master Valery had taken up the position. She'd hold to that knowledge as best she could. Another screech tore through the ceiling above from the city streets. Louder this time. Closer. She pressed against the wall, keeping herself wrapped in invisibility.

There's no way in this galaxy that I'll be dying in some nasty sewer surrounded by poodoo and... whatever in Bogans taint those karking things are.

Azzie forced herself onward, every step more deliberate than before, every shadow a potential hideaway. The tunnels twisted through Navarro like veins through a corpse, leading her deeper toward the truth beneath the carnage. She just hoped she'd get there before whatever was upstairs figured out where she was creeping around like a scumrat and how to open a grate cover.




 

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| Location | Fondor, Senate Hall
| Objective | Joint Committee Discussion


Given the state of how the Alliance was faring against its enemies, perhaps Senator Annasari's suggestion for a more unconventional approach was a much needed perspective on their situation. Senator Parthi quietly mulled over the suggestion before speaking in a quiet tone, "A task force comprised of criminals to be thrown at a suicidal task. A novel idea... Though such a group would have to be buried beneath pages of black ink, never to see the light of day, otherwise the image that the Alliance has been built upon would be at risk. We cannot posture ourselves to be paragons of peace and light if it ever becomes discovered that we are willing to sacrifice lives, even if they are criminals."
His fingers interlocked, index fingers stretched out as he tapped their tips together in contemplative thought.
"While I do agree with Senator Verrin in leveraging SIA, as Senator Dod has stated, they have been found somewhat lacking with their fulfillment of their duties. Rather than having SIA divert its attention among multiple tasks in this regard, I think there is a simpler solution that works for everyone."
"SIA can be tasked with locating the Mors Mon, and Task Force Xesh can be focused on pinpointing a weakness in the Blackwall. In the meantime, the GADF can focus its efforts on protecting our borders until such a time where we can finally move to strike a decisive blow against the Sith. Each agency will be able to pursue their objectives with a singular focus, rather than dividing its attention in half measures. Having a minimal number of assets that we have on Endor relegated to pursuing the Sith if they retreat, or observe if they station their forces, would be a start."

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//: Lucette Lucette //:
//: Aris Noble Aris Noble //: Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti //:
//: Attire //:

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Viers exhaled slowly, tuning in to the faint energy signature coming from the droid nearby. It was the most straightforward way for her to track movement—subtle vibrations through the floor, irregular patterns, anything out of place. Her skin prickled as her senses adjusted. Something was close.

She glanced over her shoulder. Lucy was already alert. Viers relaxed slightly at the sight. Lucy could handle herself—she always had. But that didn't change the fact that Viers still felt responsible for her safety.

Turning back, Viers scanned the surrounding terrain again. Her gaze moved steadily, carefully, and then she closed her eyes, reaching into the Force. Faintly, the lines etched into her back flickered to life—runic symbols glowing soft yellow. She let the Force guide her, the pattern deepening as she tapped further into her connection.

She breathed again, steady and measured. The sounds around her fell away. The tension narrowed into focus. That's when she felt them, two forms, bathed in the light and unfamiliar. She studied the sensation, committed it to memory, and then slowly released her focus.

Her grip on the bo staff loosened. Viers spun it once and rested it under her arm. For a moment, she let herself breathe.

The quiet and tense calm reminded her of something she'd seen in old holofilms, heroes standing tall before their big moment, saying something brave to the person they loved. The image stayed with her. Lucy had once called her "girlfriend." That meant something now.

Viers thought about those scenes, the ones where the hero stood between danger and the person they cared for most. Then she turned, facing Lucy with a new kind of determination in her expression.

"Lucy," she said, stepping forward.

She reached out, stopped herself when she noticed Lucy's fingers curled tightly around her lightsaber. Tibbs sat between them, loyal and unmoving. Viers didn't push him aside. She just focused on Lucette.

This wasn't going to be like before. Lucy usually initiated, not this time.

"I felt two," Viers said quietly. "I don't know how strong they are. But I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

She tried to meet Lucy's gaze. Each time her eyes met hers, she faltered, cheeks flushed. Her ears burned from how nervous she felt—but still, the monk held her ground.

Viers reached out again. Her fingers brushed gently against Lucy's cheek before her hand came to rest there. She steadied herself. And then she carefully leaned in, pressing her lips to Lucy's.

The kiss wasn't long or dramatic. But it was full of everything Viers hadn't said. It was simple, honest, and sincere.

She pulled back. A slight grin pulled at the corner of her mouth.

Without another word, she vanished, her presence tucked away entirely in the Force. No sound. No signature.

Viers moved quickly, like a shadow. She reached the Jedi fast, revealing herself only in the final second as her fist, bolstered by the Force, drove into the taller one's face.

"Surprise."
 

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OBJECTIVE 1 | INFILTRATION
TAGS: Aadihr Lidos Aadihr Lidos

Something was wrong. The Sith Lord could sense it, a warning of danger. He raised his head, looking into the old-growth trees as if expecting comfort from some phantom. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Darth Kentarch let himself fall. Just as he did, a branch above and in front of him exploded. He had less than a second to react. Suppressed subsonic ammunition. The fall from the tree. The sound of the exploding branch. The drawn attentions of the GADF soldiers as they looked up, alerted to something happening above them.

He fell in silence, the descent controlled, the only sound the whispering flutter of his cape. His boots touched down beside a cluster of stacked crates on the outskirts of the camp. The mystery sniper was likely already contacting someone within the Alliance perimeter. Several soldiers were already moving toward the tree at his last known position. Hiding was pointless now. His true opponent was a Jedi who had mastered Force Sight. Kentarch had no time to second-guess himself.

In the time of a single heartbeat, Darth Kentarch called upon the Force. Just as he could make himself vanish, he now formed an illusion around himself, crafting the appearance of a GADF soldier. He had spent enough time observing them to mimic their posture and mannerisms with unsettling accuracy. It made him even harder to detect. But that alone would not fool a Jedi trained in Force Sight. So he reshaped his presence.

The dark power that churned beneath his skin dimmed and cooled, sinking beneath layers of subtle alterations. He did not merely conceal his Force signature. He replaced it. To those who could see into the currents of the Force, he was now a simple soldier. One among many. A mind shaped by duty, not by power.

He walked into the camp, moving past the soldiers investigating the sniper shot, and passed deeper into the fortified position. The next step was finding the Jedi. But if he took the time to identify the master of Force Sight with his own eyes, he risked being discovered again. That would not do. The Jedi would have to come to him.

So he melted into the ranks of the GADF. A patrolling soldier. A busy engineer. A dutiful medic. An officer barking orders. At any given moment, he was one of them. It would be impossible to tell who he truly was.

Discreetly, his eyes swept the camp, searching for demolitions. Even if the Jedi discovered him, he could still bring the entire Alliance operation to its knees.

 
A T R O P O S
OBJECTIVE I: Fortification
TAGS: Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin | CT-312 CT-312 | Jacen Breska Jacen Breska |

Interesting was the term she used about these creatures. To be fair, these creatures were rather rare. Mostly due to them existing nearly as long as a Terentatek. Jedi Killers. And instead of some beast, it was much more worse. Feeding directly off of force users. Emitting waves that could turn you against your own kind. These things were arguably much more dangerous. And here is when she posed the question of the hour.

How can I make them more dangerous?

A bright smile filled my face. My green eyes glinting in the light as I turned to her. The toothy grin was filled with a sense of complete madness with how wide and awkward it was. All because I was truly in my element. This was my love. My work. To create life and pervert it into something much greater.


"These creatures, feast on all things organic. They consume life and the force itself. Using local flora and fauna to be come their army."

I moved closer to the creature. Way too close. Close enough it could have easily had feasted upon me if it tried. My hand reaching out and almost touching it, but stopped.

"What if it could eat and consume droids? Metal fortifications, electrical systems become bent to its will? We know how to make Technobeasts. Creatures that are a mash of humans or sentient beings with inorganic technology."

I turned my back to the beast. Looking to Quinn. This time entirely stern and serious. My voice deepened with the thoughts of what this could do to the Jedi and their love of hunting Sith Spawn.

"Make it consume everything, turn everything against the Jedi and their kin. Release the metaphorical Kraken upon their forces. No matter what planet it is. All controlled by our whims and desires. Our own natural army generation engine by consuming all they set against it."

I turned around to face the beast one more time. My hand reaching out and touching it. Already feeling how it wanted to just gorge itself on the two Sith that stood in front of it. Its desire to do what it was born to do. The creature creaked and groaned as it lowered its head, whatever head that it had, and drew closer to my face.

"Imagine ten, twenty of these being released upon a planet. Let them having their fun in feasting upon Alliance troopers, Jedi, droids, and all their fortifications with the local flora and fauna joining in the fun. A twisted call of the wild."
 
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Tag: Ran Serys Ran Serys

The girl would indeed drop the tools, instead using mechu-deru to forcefully cloud the radar, the inside wires twisting as they began to slither out like roots.


"Do you have any idea how tempting that is? I cannot for the life of me understand how you can bother sitting on this ball of humidity.. They really could have hired some slicer from Denon for this, but oh no no!"

As she stood, it let Ran get a better view of the stranger. Small in build, short in stature. The snow haired woman appeared to be wearing something more akin to a doctor's attire more than garb of a typical Sith. Nothing about her seemed to signal she was a Sith, a keen eye however would be able to notice a house sigil. A serpent stuck in ouroboros, surrounded by fancy filigree and genetic code.

"I can't say I want to fight, but something tells me you are too stubborn to leave... I even gave a door."

Other droids still surrounded the area, Vakhari seeing through their eyes.

"Go now, shoo shoo! Go kill a Sith or something, or go bury your dead."

The direction to the stranger had been crafted to be dangerous, Ran's senses in the force only picking up danger after danger.. It was designed to be overwhelming, off-putting.

Vakhari herself would adjust her gloves before lifting an
odd looking weapon as she waited, not showing in signs of outward aggression... In fact, she held a pristine calmness normally seen in Jedi.
 

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Thousands fell from the sky, their misshapen bodies crunching against the cobbled stone and permacrete roofs. But thousands more surged to replace them, vomiting out from the hidden rookeries and filling the air with their monstrous screeching. Soon enough, the city grew heavy with the stick of their mangled dead, their corpses rapidly rotting away to sludge and bone. The air became heavy with the rank stench of offal and putrid chemicals, a foul combination that could only be wrought from the darkest ingenuity of Sith-born science.

But, Carnifex was unperturbed by it all. Nothing seemed to faze the towering titan, His face impassive but eyes gleaming with cruelty as He stared down His age-old foe. "Empty gestures and empty words, Heavenshield. You conspire against the natural course, that which terminates in the final victory of darkness over light." The others had quickly departed, not desiring to stand in the proximity of the coming fight. The Crownguard were all that remained, their conditioning compelling them to remain even against all reason. They stood at he periphery, hands held tight to their weapons; shaking with barely restrained violence.

Reaching out, the Dark Lord commanded the powers of the Dark Side to heed His call. The Force contorted under His power, bending to His unnatural will. Emerging from the nothingness, drawn from beyond the veil of reality, came exquisitely wrought metal and magic. It was a helmet, forged in black iron alloyed with cursed alchemical metals, etched with runes of dominance and wrath. Like a starved beast, its surface drank in all light that struck it; reflecting hardly any back. The sharp angles and gruesome snarl etched into the helmet's face gave it a frightening leonine appearance, veins of crimson filaments pulsing with dark, hungry power.

He took the helmet in one hand, holding it aloft as though it were an object of divinity. "You misunderstand, old foe. I will outlast the stars." It hovered up from His grasp, suspended by His unyielding mastery of the Force. Radiating an oppressive malevolence, the nascent hunger within yearned to be reunited with it's creator. The plating peeled back like the petals of a flower, a shadowy void beckoning His gaze. The moment of union came when the Dark Lord spoke once more, uttering a word of power which vibrated the air and shook the ground beneath their feet.

"Rao'torai koss."

The helmet leapt up from His hand, enveloping His head in a single smooth motion before the internal seals awoke and the metal seamlessly closed back up around Him. Rear plating telescoped out and then collapsed inward, encasing the back of His skull with a deep, resonating thoom. The seals within engaged, a cascade of magnetic clamps activating along His armored gorget, locking the helmet into collar points anchored into strategic points along His armor. Each point sparked with a brief discharge of blood-red lightning, grounding themselves along the engraved channels lining his pauldrons and chestplate.

Simultaneously, the runic circuitry woven throughout His armor hummed to life. Sith glyphs flared with cold radiance, bathing the armor and His surroundings in a distressing red hue. The helmet's internal systems interfaced seamlessly with the armor's command lattice, its embedded soul crystals synchronizing their frequencies to his Force signature. He and the armor were now one.

The change was instantaneous. The moment the helmet entombed itself around His head, all external sensation dulled to nothing. The billowing winds of Nevarro City, the high-pitched screech of the Vorn-strunga above, the faint vibrations of Thurion's heartbeat, and even His own measured breathing all ceased to exist to His physical senses. Locked behind the snarling, leonine visage, an all-consuming silence consumed Him. Only the Dark Side remained now.

No flicker of emotion stirred His features beneath the mask, for the man of flesh was now submerged within the shadow of the immortal terror he had become. His thoughts, which before had drifted through mundane considerations; logistical details, troop dispositions, strategies, now grew stark and absolute. Every notion sharpened to a blade edge, all distractions burned away in the abyss of singular purpose. His consciousness no longer engaged with the world through the warmth of living sensation; it perceived only Force currents, psychic tensions, threads of fear, and the resonant hum of power and submission.

He did not speak, words were entirely beneath Him. He did not see, though the eyes of His helmet blazed with an unnatural red glow. He was no longer part of this world, He was removed from it.

There was only Carnifex, the Dark Side, and power.

Rushing forward, He was little more than a blur of sparkling red light, the blade of His lightsaber swinging in towards Thurion's defenses. With the helmet now sealed around His head, gone was the ferocity that had characterized their previous battles, now replaced by a cold precision; an unfeeling mechanism of annihilation. The hum of His crimson blade deepened to a savage snarl as He twisted His wrists mid-strike, altering the blade's angle at the last instant to try and force Thurion to overcommit his guard. His stance was low, grounded in the strength of His Dark Vaapad, raw power refined with unpredictable aggression.

The Lion and the Butcher.

Locked in battle once again.


 
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//: Valery Noble Valery Noble //:
//: Attire //:
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Allyson was terrible at taking orders. That was why she usually worked alone and rarely answered to a commanding officer. Even her current handler struggled to rein in the stubborn Corellian. So when Valery gave the order to stop, Allyson ignored it and kept going. Being near Valery Noble was a bad idea. Especially now.

She had just been caught trying to access GADF systems.

Sensing the currents of the Force shift, Allyson tried to jump and dodge, but it was pointless. The Force snapped around her legs like a lasso, yanking her down hard. The Corellian hit the ground face-first with a sharp grunt, as she rolled to her side. Blood gushed from her nose, and she pressed her hands to her face before flopping onto her back.

"That was rude!" she shouted, dragging herself upright and grabbing the bow from her back. In one swift motion, she nocked a nanite arrow and leveled it at Valery.

Allyson planted her heels and scrambled backward to gain a bit of leverage. She propped herself up just enough to see Valery moving closer. And that's when it hit her—the deal.

The one she had made with Carnifex.

It echoed in the back of her mind like a curse. She got what she wanted out of it, but standing here again, facing Valery… it suddenly felt heavier.

Still, she grinned. "Valery, I know how much you enjoy chasing me down. How about you let me get up and we start over?"

She rose slowly, bow still trained on her former friend. She could feel the Force slipping just out of reach—no chance of cloaking herself this time. Her fingers adjusted on the grip as she stepped backward, keeping distance between them.

"So what's the plan then, Valery?"
 


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

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Inside the drop pod, descending through Endor’s thick atmosphere. CT-312 reviewed the mission briefing on her HUD. No rest. Not after their last drop, TK-710 and her were immediately given a new mission. They were running a bit late.

<:// Location: Endor //:>
<:// Assigned: Quinn Varanin //:>
<:// Requested CT-312 & TK-710 //:>
<:// Instructions: Rendezvous at designated location //:>


‘Endor…’ CT-312 pressed her hand to the front of her helmet. Rubbing. As if it would help ease the growing headache. A sigh escaped, low and tired. Yes. Her camouflage armor would finally be useful. But at the possible trade off… ‘Ewoks…’ she let out a low groan.

She clicked her tongue. Tsk. Why were they meeting the Princess in the middle of the forest? Suddenly the pod slammed down hard. Obliterating branches and the underbrush as it carved a path into the forest floor. Smoke and dirt kicking up.

As CT-312’s hand reached for the release hatch. She stopped. Faint noises outside the pod. Chittering. Chanting. “Yub Nub!” Her expression went flat beneath the helmet. ‘Of course.’ CT-312 opened the encrypted squad comms. “We’ve got Ewoks. Get ready for the cutest fight of your life.” Her tone dry as sand.

Her hand rested on the release latch. Waiting. The chattering grew louder. Just outside the pod. With one sharp pull, CT-312 yanked the latch down. THUMP. The hatch launched outward. Directly into one of the creatures. A surprised yelp was cut short as the door made contact.

CT-312 exited fast. Rifle raised, pulling the trigger. Two shots. Two Ewoks dropped. A small leather pouch landed by her. Pop. Bright light and tiny glowing insects– wisties. Swarmed her. Biting. Stinging. Burning. ‘Karking Chit.’ She staggered. Blinded. Reflex took over. CT-312 moved laterally. Away from where she last recalled where the tiny pouch landed. Boots crushing moss and roots. Her vision started to clear. Burning fading.

Then something landed on her. Fuzzy. Clawing. Trying to choke the Camo Scout out. Her balance wobbled as it clawed at her helmet. CT-312’s hands went up. Gripping the thing. She lifted it up and flung it hard. Into the nearest tree trunk. THUD. Knocking it out. The sound had never been so satisfying.

Catching her breath, CT-312 stood there for a moment. ‘Freaking Ewoks.’ Why the hell would the Princess request them to be in a place like this. Some kind of divine punishment? A test? A joke? The little nest they landed on seemed to have settled. CT-312 cautiously approached the Ewok that had jumped her. Tied it up. Slinging it over her back like a pack. A map blinked on her HUD. They were close.

They moved through the forest, boots crunching softly. Scanner sweeping the treeline. Her eyes scanned the surroundings. There. The Princess. Ahead. Around her was a strange field. A reptilian creature in containment. ‘Lizard?’ Strange. CT-312’s HUD tagged Delsin nearby. The one from Taris. She recalled. It was unexpected. What the hell were they doing with a lizard tank in the middle of Endor? The Camo Scout stepped into view. Approaching the Princess.

“CT-312 reporting for duty.” Her voice was worn, filtered through the helmet’s vocoder. Saluting and giving a short nod. “My apologies for the delay.” Her body subtly jostled. CT-312 felt it. The squirming from the tied-up Ewok as it began to regain consciousness.

Undoing the straps. The little furball hit the ground with a whump. In a deadpan tone, “Careful.” CT-312’s eyes scanned the area once more before looking back at the Princess. “There’s Ewoks in the area.”

 

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Forest Moon of Endor
Equipment: AT-SB10 | AT-NB5 | Vibrosword
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Boots pressed down slowly, the soft snap echoing slightly through the undergrowth, the dead leaves crunching gently as the next step slowly sank into the detritus that littered the floor of the forest. The individual slowly moved forward, their attention focused on the underbrush as though they were watching, waiting, for something or someone. The intelligence that had been gathered, intercepted messages, and decrypted transmissions; it had all pointed toward Endor as the next target. The Galactic Alliance had already begun its preparations; The Forest Moon was quickly becoming fortified as defensive structures were rapidly erected... would it be enough?
Her step slowly compressed the leaves, the brittle foliage crunching softly beneath her boot as she slowly made her way through the dense forest. Each step was carefully measured, each movement gauged as if she were a predator stalking her prey. However, the next measured step was interrupted as the silence was broken by the screeching noise of an object tearing through the atmosphere. The woman's attention was drawn toward the sky, following the smoke trail as her head snapped to her left as she heard the object crashing through the canopy, followed by an explosion as it slammed into the ground. She turned back, watching as the pair of Boar-wolves she had been tracking rushed off into the undergrowth of the forest floor; a low growling hiss of disappointment slipped from her lips as she slowly rose from her crouched position.
The woman remained still for a moment, her attention remaining in the direction that her quarry had rushed off in, remaining attentive to the danger that the predators still presented. A single step back was followed by a second as she slowly slipped the vibroblade back into its sheath, her movement fluid as she easily pivoted upon her hind foot and spun herself around. Whatever had come crashing into the Forest Moon only caused her mood to sour all the more than it already had, even as she took the next step. Though she had lost one quarry, she had gained another as she began to make her way through the undergrowth and foliage of the forest.
The scent of flames and smoke filled the air before the scene was even observed, telling her all that she needed to know before she had even arrived. She stepped out from the undergrowth, golden-yellow hues slowly surveying the scene of the crash site, trees scorched from the flames produced by the heat of reentry. Her attention slowly rose along the trees, noting the destructive burst that had torn through the canopy before the object embedded itself into the soft soil of the forest floor. Each movement remained calculated, fluid as she began to inspect the crash site, each step made to avoid the tracks that had been left behind in the soft soil.
It was then that she saw the first body, a low sigh slipping from her lips as she slowly crouched down. Her hand reached out, coming to rest on the shoulder of the Ewok, carefully rolling it onto its back. She took note of the blaster burn on its chest, the shot had been dealt at close range, too precise and surgical to have been a lucky shot in the heat of the moment. She reached over the corpse, her hand gently grasping the spear that was near the creature, before placing it across its chest. Carefully crossing its arms, showing a modicum of respect to the creature as her attention fell upon the object that was firmly entrenched in the forest floor.
Her fingers slowly moved over the metallic frame, tracing its features as they slowly slipped off the edge of the interior. Her hands came to rest against the frame of the doorway as she leaned forward, peering into the pod and inspecting the interior. The damage was minimal, the exterior had taken the brunt of the impact, whoever or whatever had been inside left no trace, no sign that it may have been injured. Her attention slowly shifted toward the ground, a soft smirk growing across her lips beneath her helm as she knelt slowly, her fingers brushing away some of the leaves and tracing the outline of a boot that was not hers.
Tracks... It was all that she needed as she slowly followed them away from the pod, tracing them and the path that their owner had taken once they had freed themselves and engaged the wildlife. She was careful, ensuring that she did not step or sweep over the tracks, keeping them intact as she followed them to a tree at the edge of the clearing that the crash had produced. Her fingers slowly ran over an indentation in the bark of the tree, tracing it down to the imprint in the foliage left behind by a body that had come to rest on the ground. She knelt again, her attention slowly moving over a small, nearly imperceptible trail through the underbrush, marked by broken twigs, crushed leaves, and boot prints in the soft soil.

 
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E W O K S !
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WEARING:: Jacen’s Second Legion Armor
EQUIPMENT: DC-902d
HG-88 Hand Cannon
C-11 Combat Knife
LOCATION: :: ENDOR- DEATHDROP ASSAULT ::
TAG:
CT-312 CT-312 Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin Delsin Shaw Delsin Shaw Amelia von Sorenn Amelia von Sorenn
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It was always the same as it ever was. Work work work.

A lesser person would have loudly complained. Jacen, however, was comfortable quietly complaining. It could have been worse, though. He could have been sent to another horrific nightmare world with monsters and such.
Then again...he was being sent to the forest moon of Endor.

He had studied the moon back in the academy. It was one of those things that got extra special attention. About a thousand years ago, the little furry creatures of Endor, the Ewoks, helped end the reign of the Galactic Empire. It was a reminder to never underestimate your opponent. Never assume victory was assured. The consequences could always be dire.

312 had taken lead on this mission, thus of the two of them, her pod fell first. Jacens followed swiftly afterwards, slamming into an overturned tree trunk and sending wooden splinters and dirt scattering through the sky.

As he reached up for the release lever, 312's voice came over the squad channel:

“We’ve got Ewoks. Get ready for the cutest fight of your life.”

"You didn't do a lot of studying, huh?" Jacen responded, shaking his head. Of course. They'd instantly be set upon by the savagely furry critters that ended an Empire. If it wasn't for bad luck they'd have no luck at all. Outside his own pod, he heard the misleadingly cute curious sounds the animals made as they investigated the pod.
Jacen psyched himself up quickly and readied his rifle, pulling the lever. The door went down with a loud thud, and Jacen jumped out, roaring with intensity at the little creatures. They skittered away from the door but approached cautiously as Jacen exitted, spears not yet at the ready.

Jacen took a big step towards one of them, and swung his back leg forward delivering a punt to the tiny adorable creature that, thanks to the increased strength of the suit, sent the cute little bastard sailing backwards into a tree. Slinging his rifle forward into his hands, he gripped the barrel and used it as a bat to slam into the other Ewok, sending it similarly flying some distance away.

Immediately cleared, Jacen shoulder his rifle and eyed the remaining Ewoks. They'd had enough for now. But he knew they'd be watching.

Those beady little eyes.

Always watching. Waiting for their moment to strike.

Immediately, Jacen went to go rendezvous with 312, "We gotta go," he said as he approached, "those little freaks may be all cute and cuddly but-" he paused, turning to face her, seeing her sling one over her shoulder, "-what the hell are you doing." He said. No quizzical inflection in his words at all. Stoic, solid, steady flow.

"What. Ewok soup? Ewok pillow?"
Suddenly, Jacen gasped over exaggeratedly, "Ewok RUG?!"
"Put the furry critter down,"
he said, his voice immediately returning to it's steady tone. He knew she wouldn't. But at least when the Ewok horde descended on them to free what would inevitably turn out to be their messiah, he could stare disapprovingly at 312 as they were lowered into the soup pot.

The pair advanced, continuing through the forest on their way to meet up with their...he supposed client. The Princess herself, Quinn Varanin. She was with someone Jacen didn't quite recognize. He didn't care. Almost immediately, any curiousness in his mind was wiped away by 312's stellar reporting.
He slowly turned his head to her, "Really. There's Ewoks in the area? Hey there's trees here too, don't forget the trees they might miss them next time," he pointed at the trees around them, "Look there's some now!"
He returned his faceplate to meet hers, "The little furry bastards are everywhere. Especially now we killed a couple of them and you have that one. They'll wait until night. You don't wanna be out on Endor in the dark. Not alone. Or in a small group like this. They'll kill the hell outta you with those little beady eyes and little disgusting smiles and those little spears."

Jacen shuddered, then turned to the Princess, "TK-710, your Highness." He bowed his head.

 
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“There is no death,” Ran corrected. “Only the force.” She continued.

“It guides me to you. I believe, to put an end to your actions here.” Ran explained simply. “Now you say you do not want a fight. You needn’t. Surrender yourself. Slicer or not. Sith or not. You have sabotaged government systems and contributed to a level of chaos on this planet.”

“If you don’t, I won’t kill you.”
Ran admitted. “But I will bring you before the Galactic Alliance for the crimes you have committed, by force if you deem it necessary.” Ran kept her blade up and glowing at her side. The lightsaber, a symbol of her intentions. Not a weapon to attack or defend, but a tool to fix a problem.

Ran eyed the dull glow of droids watching and waiting, before turning her attention back to the saboteur. A moment of mental pain made Ran wince as her eyes fell on a house sigil emblazoned on the saboteur’s clothing. It was familiar. There was a link she was missing, but she knew it, and it filled her with unease.

The knight did her best to steel herself from the sudden anxious feeling. “So is it necessary or will you come willingly?” Ran would let the saboteur decide their own fate.


Tags: Vakhari Lutris Vakhari Lutris

 


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It was enough for him to raise a single eyebrow beneath the mask, as the SIA agent's dark eyes passed over where Malum stood unbeware of what he had missed. It was further reason, as those eyes only spared briefest glance over the Alliance soldiers engulfed in the flames, as the walker, congealing steel melting collapsed in on itself. The agent's glance shifting back into the woods where the Lord of the Tsis'Kaar was hidden, before rushing off into a sprint.

He had not seen him, that much Malum was sure of... but he had not expected such a flagrant disregard, the sparing of only a single glance...

The man was coldhearted.

Or at least objective focused.

The Sith Lord smirked beneath the replica face of his famous ancestor, as the lord of the snakes slithered away deeper into the tree line, leaving evident clues of his former presence, even as the snapping of sticks alerted him to the agent's looming presence. Unnatural paths through the bushes, broken twigs and stems, even evident footprints.

As Malum flicked another button, another explosion rearing its ugly head over the horizon, another walker crashing into the ground truncuated with the resonance of screaming voices.


"...You saw how many shells I took... think about how much more damage I could cause... you hear me speaking without sound... do you truly imagine you can stop me yourself?"

Malum continued the game, as he passed further and further into the woods, an unnatural darkness beginning to take hold, the sun blotted out, as he continued into what was fast becoming the famous Endor jungle.

"...But you are special... what if I told you... I could stop all this, if only you do what I say?"

Alek Thorne Alek Thorne

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N A V A R R O
OBJECTIVE IV
Darth Carnifex Darth Carnifex
Azurine Varek Azurine Varek
So they warred. Inextinguishable hope versus abyssmal despair. The unbreakable versus the immovable. The dawn versus the night.

The very stars tremble at their combined might; the earth they tread quakes and the skies shattes. They were as mountains, crashing into one another time and time again, each terrifying blow capable of pulverising a lesser being. It was one of the rare occasions when the High King of Midvinter allowed himself to unleash all that he had, and never hold back. Even he knew not his full strength, ever the gentle giant around others. It was creatures like Carnifex that forced him to set aside all inhibitions and embrace the destroyer that dwelled within.

Just as Heavenshield and Zambrano fought, so did the very heavens. The awesome power of the sun pierced the veil, tearing the dark asunder whilst the blanket of infinite blackness battled it for absolute dominion. An unending dance of destruction with no victor in sight. Deadlocked for an eternity.

The Lion brought up his shield to block the initial strike, but when it was suddenly redirected mid-swing his sword would have to suffice, the wide blade deflecting the crimson energy in an improvised counter. The unexpected shift pushed him back several feet, having him adjust his stance for a counter-strike, thrusting Anarion forward at the Dark Lord from behind the safety of his shield.

Ceaseless was their exhange of blows, delivered with such force and at such speed that any bystander would have had an impossible task trying to keep count. Energy crackled and steel sung in a symphony of swords, their martial prowess ever matched to a fault. They were as gods of war amongst men, neither willing or able to back down or relent.

"You were always afraid," spouted the Lion through gritted teeth from behind his helmeted visage. "Afraid of the End of All Things! You don't possess the courage required to face death, so you seek to supplant it! You're a relic, Kaine — too much of a coward to face the inevitable!"

Breaking off from the engagement, Thurion leapt on top of the black vessel Kaine and his entourage had arrived in, glaring down at Carnifex from the elevated position.

"I say: let the End come! Let it swallow us both, that the galaxy might move on from our mistakes! I welcome my death, Butcher — can you say the same?" He leveled his sword at the Dark Lord, its bright blade becoming engulfed in golden flame as the Lion proceeded to leap high into the air, amassing such blinding sunlight that he became a star unto himself, before then coming crashing down at the Black Iron Tyrant like a meteor.

"ALFǪÐR," he roared, invoking the High God of his ancestors.
 
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//: Delsin Shaw Delsin Shaw //: CT-312 CT-312 //: Jacen Breska Jacen Breska //:
//: Objective 1 - Fortifications //:
//: Attire //:
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Quinn didn't shy away from the man's wild grin. She had seen this before in many Sith that she had worked with. When their element surrounded them, it was as if they came alive. It was admirable, and Quinn only returned his grin with a sly smirk of her own.

While she wasn't the type to create destructive creatures, she did enjoy the thought of the Jedi, ones linked to the New Jedi Order, suffering at the hands of this creature Delsin was enamored with. They were the reasons that she couldn't go home, and they also led the Alliance to her home. Quinn looked away from the creature as Delsin tempted his fate with it; luckily, he had the lizard - at least that kept him from being devoured.

"You remind me of my master," Quinn chuckled while she took another step back away from the creature. She could sense their hunger and desire to consume. It briefly reminded her of that hunger, the one she had kept under control. Pushing back her bangs, Quinn fanned herself slightly. The jungle heat wasn't something she came prepared for, but she hoped their excursion would soon find its way indoors.

Before she could indulge Delsin further, she looked over her shoulder and recognized the small trooper running through the foliage.

Her face brightened as she saw it was someone familiar. "312!" The trooper spoke and then dropped the half-conscious teddy bear at Quinn's feet. She could see the little guy had been through it with the trooper, but a specimen was a specimen for Delsin. Kneeling, Quinn examined the Ewok and tilted her head. The creature smelled foul, and while adorably cute, she knew it could kill the whole lot of them before they could do anything.

"Better put this one to sleep." Carefully, Quinn put her hand out, and the creature suddenly passed back out once more. Standing, she looked to Jacen as well, who had come through the foliage.

"Well, it's good you two showed up," She said, smiling, and then did a quick introduction.

"312, 710, this is Delsin Shaw, he's leading this little excursion. Delsin, these two are from DeathDrop, 312 and 710." Her gaze fell to 710 as she smiled.

"You can just call me Quinn or Princess while we're in the field. No need for formalities, we're all the same out there." Quinn waved her hand nonchalantly as she turned back to the tree and Delsin.

"Maybe you two can help Delsin with that thing."

Her voice trailed as she looked out to the forest. Something was off, there was a void ( Amelia von Sorenn Amelia von Sorenn ) - something that didn't touch the living force. Tilting her head, she began to walk towards the perimeter. She couldn't feel anything but the void. It was unnerving, so she stepped back and looked at Delsin.

"You have all your little lizards, right?"
 
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Tag: Ran Serys Ran Serys

A confused expression adorns her pale face, she shakes her head.


"As much as I hate being on this planet, I think I would just prefer to leave on my own ship.. Thank you very much."
“If you don’t, I won’t kill you.”

"You will bring us joy as we watch the light fade from your eyes."

A mocking and sinister voice would whisper inside Ran's head, the girl's lips hadn't moved an inch. It had shown itself, if only slightly. A looming darkness that echoed behind this pale woman, their shadow's intertwined.

As that anxious feeling brewed, Vakhari would use the opportunity. Making one of the closer mines explode, littering the air with dust and painful fragments of metal. Danger would be all around within the cloud, yet through the droids Vakhari could still see Ran.

Locking on her target before tendrils of lightning flowed out from her gloved hands and up into the weapon, with the trigger pulled the concentrated lance of thunder would pierce right through the cloud with the intent on striking Ran with the same level of power behind a real bolt.

And much like the real deal, the roar of the bolt only ringing out after the projectile had potentially hit the mark.

Without a second thought, the medical garbed stranger would click in the next round.

The grass upon the ground would russell as wires from the tower had begun to slither out.

Her eyes both fleshy and droid kept a lock on, with a precision one could only describe as surgical.


 

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Nevarro - Central Command Platform


The darkness didn't stir when the rifle spoke. It didn't need to. There was no warning of its bite No flash from the muzzle, no screaming projectile hrling across the empty space. No report to split the night in two. Only the hush that was so complete, it was as if the air itself had stopped breathing. The plasma bolt crossed the intervening distance in the span of a heartbeat. It was a perfect shot, guided by a weapon whose precision could end wars with a single squeeze of the trigger. A design of precise brilliance for just this purpose, to kill without a word, and it struck. Where lesser beings would have died before the impact fully registered, killed before their minds could even process their impending demise, the blaster bolt met the Dark Lord's warplate, and vanished. Not in a flare of deflection. Not in a hiss of dissipated energy. But in something more unsettling: consumption.

For a single instant, the crimson runes that latticed Qâzjiin'vraal ignited, sickly and bright, pulsing as if they drank the energy and savored every last drop. A low, resonant hum reverberated through the platform beneath his boots, like some colossal predator purring in satisfaction. But the Shadow Hand didn't flinch, He didn't even move from his position. The giant simply turned His head. It was a slow, deliberate thing. As though regarding the vector of the invisible assault required nothing more than idle curiosity. The Dark Lord's voice followed, low and unhurried.

"Efficient." Out from His tone came no inclinations of anger, frustration, or even surprise. It was a simple cold acknowledgement of fact, something that teetered on the edge of approval. "But you misunderstand." One of the massive gauntlets lifted, its palm clearly open. Almost as if in demonstration the runes across his armor seemed to gutter and dim, releasing the last vestige of absorbed energy in a languid wisp of red vapor. "This is not conquest." The Dark Lord's gaze remained transfixed on the distant heights, his voice an abyssal thrum through the air with dissonant whispers, and mind shattering echoes. "This is a culling." It was then, as if on cue, that the city began to exhale its monsters.

Across a dozen rooftops, emerging from within the dark depths of the city, the shadow peeled back to reveal them. Huge silhouettes that waited in perfect stillness for hours. Their silence deafening, their armor drank in the light and consumed the shadow. They didn't emerge with the muster of soldiers, but with the slow, deliberate inevitability of a guillotine's fall. For these were, the Blackblade Guard. The greatest legionaries in the known galaxy. They stepped forward as one. No barked orders. No signal flares, only the quiet suggestion that the night itself had grown teeth to strike the wayward assassin. Even on a world gutted by Sith ambition, their presence was something new, something far worse than it had ever seen. Nevarro had been alive once.

It was a noise, ordinary city. It was full of small lives each with small ambitions ranging from dock workers to freight haulers, families in prefab tenements. All of them were gone now. Some had vanished before the Silence Doctrine sealed the city. But most simply vanished. Not with the chaos of a siege, no bodies in the streets, no mass graves to mark their absence. They were just gone. Shops were left abandoned in mid transaction, soup still cooling on countertops. Datapads left blinking in the dark. Entire apartment complexes where every bed was left turned upside down, every doorway left ajar. It was as if the inhabitants had simply stepped out together for a moment, and vanished off the face of the earth. The few who remained were taken, vanishing beneath the city under control of the Priesthood, whose profane rights none should dare witness, while others were seized by the Blackblades themselves.

Their true fates were never spoken of. It didn't need to be uttered into the void. You could see the evidence in the scorched corridors that reeked of ionized blood, in the impact craters where fleeing shutters were torn down from the sky. It was buried in the shadows that sometimes shivered with shapes that were far too large to be men, slouching patiently behind ruined bulkheads waiting for a chance to step forward once more. Now came the Blackblade Guard emerging from the darkness, red visors sweeping the skyline. They were built far beyond mortal constraints, each frame was monstrous and wrong, proportions that suggested something had been altered beyond its original purpose. Limbs moved with hydraulic precision, while heads snapped in perfect synchrony. There was no communication between them, no question as to their duty. They simply obeyed without a word.


Each raised an armored gauntlet bristling with augmented mag-clamps and grapnel launchers. The noise that followed was not a roar but a rapid-fire puncture, like bones snapping in the shadow. Anchors buried themselves in half collapsed towers and skeletal spires. Cables went taut as they leapt. Countless meters in a single bound as as silent as falling knives. Their mass cracked duracrete beneath them. The buildings beneath their might shuddered and groaned, shedding clouds of plaster and ancient dust. Floors collapsed in muted concussions that echoed down abandoned elevator shafts like dying breaths. Even the storm seemed to hush, as if the tempest itself understood it had been replaced by something final. For even it yielded to the reaper. Already they were at work their sensors sweeping the area.

They mapped every meter of the target zone, thermal readings checking every isolated source of residual body heat, power fluxuations in half-dead conduits were rapidly scanned and dismissed, micro-shifts in pressure from a single exhalation analyzed as they took in streams of data. One by one, each of those towering monsters turned toward the same vector. The rifleman, the prey. They began to move them with the slow ceaseless confidence of those who knew escape was impossible, the cold deliberate momentum of death itself. High on the command platform the Shadow Hand simply watched them go. "Find them." Prazutis ordered. The words didn't thunder across the city, they simply surged through every comm channel, ringing through the brains of every Blackblade like a law older than language itself. "Alive." They advanced then. Each moving with a cadence far beyond what could be considered human. A step here, listening there. Every step like the careful, deliberate movement of a predator, a hunter who excelled at the chase. Every stride tightened the net around the target zone.

The giant lowered His hand. The tactical display resumed its quiet march toward annihilation, resuming his efforts as if the attempt on his life had been no more than an evening breeze for the Shadow Hand of the Kainate


 
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Lucette was thoroughly crossed. Absolutely crossed. Viers had just taken off, just like that? The Dosuunian nearly let out a shriek of frustration but steadied herself, grounding her emotions in what the Force told her: wickedness had descended upon them. So-called lightsiders and their ilk, meddling where they did not belong.


Her focus snapped forward. "Tibbs, to me. Stay by my side," she commanded with icy clarity, igniting her lightsaber as she rushed into the fray.


All the while, her thoughts clung to Viers, the reckless, beloved Corellian who had dashed ahead without so much as a glance back. Lucy's heart clenched with worry. She thought of Viers' kiss, her words, her vow that nothing would happen to her. Oh, you blessed fool, Lucette thought, pushing her pace to catch up.


Through the Force, she directed her creations, her ever-faithful Sithspawn, to scatter. She needed them to burrow, to climb, to dig, anything to find traces of those who dared trespass on Endor. This world, once held by the First Order, would belong once more to those worthy to steward it. The Commonwealth would see to that.


She arrived just in time, Viers had revealed herself behind the taller of the two interlopers. Lucette didn't hesitate. Within the palm of her gloved hand, a cluster of jagged, icy spikes formed, delicately wrought and lethally honed. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she flung the icicles toward the second lightsider, the shorter one, with the full intention to maim.


There would be no mercy today.

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Tibbers was going to be a very good Tibbers today. Yes, yes. He watched with gleeful eyes as Lucy, his Lucy, flung some of his favourite chew-snacks: sharp, shiny ice! Oh, what a treat! And then, oh! What was that glowy thing? A lightsaber! Delicious!


The little Sithspawn muttered to himself in pure delight, tail wagging like a tiny banner of doom. "Da-da daaa… da-da-da-da!" he chirped, bounding forward with a Force-assisted leap. He skidded across the surface with a practiced wobble, tiny claws tippy-tapping in zigzags, juking left and right with dramatic flair.

His sights locked on the prize, a lightsaber. Bright! Shiny! Like a rock candy wrapped in sparkly, super-duper-dura-paper! He had to bite it. Just one nibble, just a little nom. And if, if! He managed to bite one of the glowy-stick people too? Oh, he'd be such a good Tibbers. The best Tibbers.


And Tibbers was a very good boy. Yes. Yes, he was.


Aris Noble Aris Noble | Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti | Viers Connory Viers Connory

[sorry for the delay!]
 

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