Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Annihilation Shatterpoint | BotM Annihilation of GA Held Tython


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FALTERING

Tython,
Jedi Temple Ruins (Northern Lines)
ATTN: Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka | Aerys Myrrine | The Mongrel The Mongrel
Vicinity: Wedge Draav Wedge Draav | Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser | Celeste Rigel Celeste Rigel | Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield | Alessandra Io Alessandra Io | Project Uriel Project Uriel | Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor + Others
[OPEN]

Alliance and Imperial soldiers alike scrambled up the ridgeline, running on narrow switchback paths of dirt and up steep inclines to evade the pursuant Maw. Every now and again a soldier would stop and fire back, but the retreat order had come, and it was time to go.

As the moved, the sky cracked above them, revealing a strange rift that sent Kirie's stomach turning. As they climbed, the hillside fell away in great clumps, so that the soldiers had to watch for spreading faultlines, lest they be swept away.

"What are you doing? We can't stop now!"

The group has just crested the ridgeline's second peak, and Kirie could barely make out The Mercury's brassy hull sticking out over a rocky outcrop ahead. They were so close, and yet the Imperial's 313th division had slowed and stopped. There were some words exchanged that Kirie didn't catch, and then a flag she didn't recognise was raised, the soldiers turning and digging in, their back line still fighting off Mawite pursuers. They had made up some distance, but it would only be minutes before they were swamped by the hordes again.

"Right then - Jedi, if yew and yers can make it to yer boat then do it. Our brothers are comin' to get us, and if they don't make it in time, then... I suppose you should tell someone that we were 'ere yeah?".

The Imperial commander spoke up and Kirie turned to look at her, tearing her gaze from the line of cultists scrambling up the ridge to the second peak.

"Promise me, yeah? Yew'll tell yers that the 313th stood on, and pushed - we didn't give up and we didn't give in, Astral Lions, 1st Company, 1st Battalion."

Kirie's face pulled tight, a mask of pre-emptive grief. She had come down from the Seeing Stone to do something practical, to help save Tython, and yet despite her best effort to stop it, to prevent unnecessary bloodshed, these soldiers would die on this hilltop all the same.

She nodded grimly, not trusting herself to speak until she had steeled herself and waved over her surviving Nova Corps members, who immediately realised what was happening, their shoulders falling in defeat.

Finally she spoke, the words tumbling out of her lips like a bitter flood. Terrible, that she should live while these brave people faced oblivion.

"We'll defend your position from above for as long as we're able but... I don't think we can stay up there for long." Kirie bit her lip. "You will be remembered, I promise you." She swallowed heavily. "And- and your name, what was it? I'll make sure they know that too."

"I'm Kirie."
She said, her voice breaking. "Thank you."

One of the Nova Corps touched her arm, but she already knew it was time to go. Kirie turned away, and she and the squad sprinted the remaining distance to The Mercury and climbed aboard, anguished, but desperately relieved to be off the hillside. Kirie leapt into the pilot’s chair, and a moment later the ship roared to life, rising into the air.

The devastation around them was immense from this height, but Kirie tore her eyes from the broken landscape and strange, shifting sky to bring The Mercury around in a low and slow-moving circle. She heard the side turret open up from where one of the Nova Corps had got on the gun, and likewise she steered the nose cannon to track the front line of Maw troops, sending down burst after burst of laser cannon fire as the ship circled.

At the top of the hill she could see the cluster of Imperials, dwarfed by the size of the Maw force advancing on them. Kirie could only hope their evac arrived soon. Surely they could not hold off the assault for long.

 


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Rika Hiro|SIA Compnor| mountains of madness
A S C E N S I O N
Tags:// Don Belkora Don Belkora Darth Ptolemis Darth Ptolemis
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F E A R

What is your name, brave one?-@Darth Ptolemis

She wouldn't give him that satisfaction, that sense of further power over Rika's helpless self; she should have known; she should've been smart and not brash enough to try and fight something way beyond her own scope and understanding. Kyrel had been an ugly brawl, something that not even the academy prepared her to deal with; this was just different; Ptolemis was elevated beyond the brute form of Kyrel. Where Kyrel's undead sluggishness dominated the ground, Ptolemis's arcane command of the dark arts dominated every bit of reality and Rika's situation.

Rika stricken with fear refused to look again as to where Ptolemis lay in wait like a predator. She again looked down to the drop in the valley below, her options wearing increasingly thin as the moments dragged and passed painfully.

But then, her worries were soon answered as to what Ptolemis had in store, her eyes widening in panic as a massive boulder descended from above, crashing down and just missing her as she rolled away as it tumbled down the mountainside. She picked up her blaster pistol and angrily fired a few shots at Ptolemis, screaming obscenities back at him in some limp form of defiance.


"Fuck you TOO!"

 
9WBFDP-1umWUoTvO60cccU2HPJ6QuB8ADNlvKXFByYoER4kZ4F_sMdFBrCfc2r5BWDsaSxSrD3pZC2_KfBZ-w5JneUk5sC9FkeIMArZooUH3-JyuS2yriZTrkrlvorxiWmGboBYuoB59pp31mg
Location: Avatar of War
Objective: Finish the Mission
Allies: HI ( Percival Io Percival Io )
Frenemies: ME
Enemies: BotM ( Joseph Torson Joseph Torson )
Direct Engagement: Joseph Torson Joseph Torson

A limited range?!

Esmeralda balked, though beneath the tinted pink visor of her helmet, her features were unreadable, making the Echani seem as placid, yet determined as any Siren. Indeed, it was no secret that Sirens and natural-born organic citizen-soldiers didn’t always get along, often because Sirens were fanatical, bloodthirsty, and sometimes, fatalistic, beyond even that of many of the most traumatized organic citizen-soldiers. Ironically, this case was the opposite. Esmeralda found her partner’s fatalism frustrating, if anything. Yes, the odds stood against their survival but this woman refused to even fight, instead resigned to her fate like some sheep being herded to the slaughter.

However, the fact that the detonator had a limited range pushed those odds even further against their survival. It went without saying that a reactor explosion might annihilate an entire segment of the Avatar, unless there were safeguards or fail safes in place.

Suddenly, Esmeralda began to question herself. Was she merely attempting to delay the inevitable?


“I…” For the first time in her short life, the Siren felt the weight of scrutiny and responsibility on her narrow shoulders. Was her dedication to House Io and its tenets really as firm and unyielding as she thought it was, if she wasn’t willing to die for it? Even without a fight? What kind of Siren was she if she wasn't willing to give her life to save the lives of her sisters, if not even billions more?

“Okay, give me a moment.” Esmeralda said after a short pause, before quickly tapping at the screen of her OmniLink, summoning her IBIS Drone a few moments later.


“Can you link the detonator to my drone’s systems? If you do that, we can find a way out and the drone will detonate the explosives on our command, once we’ve reached a safe distance. If you need time, I'll buy it for you.” Esmeralda said as she took her OmniLink off of her gauntlet and handed it to Rebecca, along with the detonator.

"I don't plan for either of us to die here sister, but if we have to..." The Siren paused.

"Then we're going down with a fight."

 
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Aerys Yvarro

Guest
A




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When the Jedi asked what her name was, Aerys didn't hesitate to answer, "private Aerys Fortan, yeah? Aerys Fortan." The young woman swallowed hard as she stepped back and looked over as the Jedi and the Nova Troopers scrambled into their transport. She turned toward the handful of men who now stood beside her on that ragged hilltop, overlooking the valley that once had been. "ASTRAL LIONS! ABIDE WITH ME! LONG LIVE GALIDRAAN! LONG LIVE DOSUUN! FOR HER MAJESTY NATASI FORTAN! AVE RURIK!"

Then a voice on another channel, caught Aerys' attention, Valery Noble Valery Noble she chuckled lightly, "dun't worry bout me lass. We're makin' sure yer Jedi and their lot make it out alright, yeah, goodbye Bobbs." That was it. Aerys heard the call from Tyrell Lockhart Tyrell Lockhart that they just needed to hang on, just a little longer - and surely the 313th would be rescued. "313TH HOLD! HOLD! HOLD!" Shouted the private who had commanded like a sergeant, who had in the crucible of Tython come to find the name, the legacy she wished to uphold. Forsaking the Raaf name, she had chosen her path.

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Between the rising tide of Mawites and the lava, Aerys focused on what she could as she swapped out for a fresh power cell. The 313th's 1st Battalion, 1st Company; they shall not grow old as they are what had been left grow old. Age shall not weary them nor the years condemn them at the going down of the sun in the morning. Remember them, well, remember them the 313th who on that hilltop held their ground even as the rounds began to sting, and push through what was left of her armor Aerys kept firing, kept fighting, bayoneting those who dared got close enough. Mathur beside her, sons and daughters of Dosuun on behalf of the Crown Galidraan.

Abide with me, fast falls the eventide. The darkness deepens... with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee, help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.

Bleeding for Tython, gone was their song - it had long since drowned within that cacophony of violence. Their motivation from there on had been plain, to stand their ground long enough to allow for the younglings and other Alliance troops evacuate from the hilltop, they would maintain the corridor. The fronts were closing in around them, the 313th pushed open a line - just enough to get people out. "HOLD THE CORRIDOR!" It was the end for the 313th, but they were determined to hold their ground. "C'mon lad, get up, c'mon," urged Aerys as she hauled Mathur back up, he jolted awake and took hold of the heavy machine gun and went to mowing down the cultists that continued to surge up the hill.

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day... Joys grow dim, its glories pass away change and decay in all around... O Thou who changest not, abide with me I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless.

"Mathur, you ever buy into that Cosmic Balance nonsense?"

"You bloody askin' nao Fortan?"

A smile from Aerys as she looked over at Mathur, "yeah... Rashid Mathur, what's yer problem nao?"

"We're fookin' dyin' is all."

"Aye, no better time to ask, eh?"

Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness where's death sting? Where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still, Thou abide with me... Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies...

Shot and shell, machine guns rampant as well, hellfire burned around the lot no matter how dire they kept on holding collapsing only when they were sure no other Alliance types were on the hill. Still, they did not falter and so they continued on, "not really, but I suppose - I hope they send me back to Dosuun."

"Oh aye, bury you right in Victoria then."

"And you? Bloody Fortan, you'll be a damn martyr."

"Eh, according to me cousin I do that enough on me own."

Mathur rolled his eyes and kept firing, "right then you'll just lay in state over on ol' Avalonia while they parade yer bloody ashes around the town."

"Celestial's arse, I hope not - just let them toss me over to the Valley o' Death with you lot."

The two chuckled in the face of death, side by side they would keep firing retreating with what was left of the 313th further up the hill to put some more distance between them and the cultists. The final sacrifice, the final stand - death's grasp not too far from them now, the cluster of alabaster plastoid armored men and women with their scorched marked, shrapnel-filled armor. On that hill continued to hold out hope that their brothers and sisters of Galidraan would come to their rescue, but if not... they only asked to be remembered.


 
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Location: Tython
Objective: Defend the temple
Tag: Erion Justeene Erion Justeene / Valery Noble Valery Noble

He could feel the heat of the lightsabers radiate through his body, burning and turning his clothing black from how close they were to his body. Silas was exhausted, even he knew that himself just from how slow he had gone. Throwing a strike at the Sith lord would only leave him open, he could only defend and hope the Sith gassed himself out before he did. Looking straight at the visor, Silas gritted his teeth and pushed against the red lightsaber with whatever he lad. But to his surprise, nothing was there to push back.

Without any warning, the Sith jumped back away from Silas and made some considerable distance between them. Weakly, the padawan fell to his knees, glaring up at the man one last time before he escaped through the hole they made. Gasping, he looked ahead of him with a faraway look and soon came to a realisation of how lucky he was. That wasn't the Sith retreating by any means, considering he had enough energy to get out of the hole. What happened just now was a rare act of mercy, as well as respect.

His daze only seemed to break when a piece of rubble landed next to him, covering him in another layer of dust which covered him from head to toe. Silas wanted nothing more than just to lay down and let the ruins bury him in its scared stone, giving himself to the force to stop all the pain he was feeling. Yet, something inside was telling him to keep going and keep living his still young life. He wouldn't come all this way to die now...

On spaghetti legs, Silas staggered to his feet and did his best to walk through the moldy water that led the way to an opening in the crypt. Due to the battles and bombardments, the temple had fallen into a state of disrepair, holes reshaping the once beautiful temple into something unrecognisable. Uncaring for the stone that dropped around him like rain, he finally got close enough to throw him through into the battle ridden air of Typhon.

Silas rolled his battered body down the short hill and came to a halt on his chest, panting and unable to move another muscle. Accepting whatever was to come, his vision slowly but surely turned black to send him into the dark abyss of the mind. He had failed Typhon, and his duty to be a Jedi. Now, Silas was going to die alone...

A few minutes later...

"Approaching extraction site..."

A squad of five alliance scouts moved carefully through the scattered terrain of rocks next to the ruined temple, their captain front and center with a blue evac smoke grenade in one hand. They had just been given the order to evacuate after supplying overwatch and sniper support from a position nearby. All of them had seen and killed enough for one day, right now getting back to family was a top priority. Slowly, the captain came to a halt and held his hand up to halt the progression.

"Garo, have eyes on that body. We can't take any chances, especially now" he said with a simple motion in the direction of where he saw it, The experienced sniper nodded and raised the rifle up to look down his scope. He was expecting it to be discarded remains of along dead maw soldier, instead, he saw the panting body of an unconscious body face down on the floor.

"Sir... it's a kid. Alive by the looks of it" he said with a look to his captain, who seemed to frown slightly and motion towards him "It must be a padawan, poor kid didn't belong here" he said with a sigh as they made haste towards the struggling Silas "We will bring him along for extraction, whatever ever state he's in we'll patch him up the best we can" He ordered to his men before they began to form a perimeter around Silas and the captain who came to his aid. Rolling him to his back, he sighed and shook his head from the state he was in. The man supported the Jedi with all his heart, but sending kids to war like this was inhumane.

"Overlord to Valery Noble, we request evac from the Jedi temple. We have collected an injured padawan requiring immediate medical, he isn't looking good right now. Exact position will be marked out with blue smoke, please confirm, over."

Turning away from the padawan, the captain threw the thick blue smoke into the open and awaited for their help to arrive. None of them were going to forget this day, no matter the conclusion...
 
Location: Temple ruins ---> evacuation zone
Allies: Jedi - Coren Starchaser Coren Starchaser , Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor , Romi Jade Romi Jade , Zark San Tekka Zark San Tekka , Kirie Kirie
Enemies: Sith/Maw

Celeste felt a rush of panic flow through her.

A wave.

There were many injured in the area – and they needed to get out, they all did. "Hurry!" Celeste called out to the Knights in her company. Their fellow Jedi were helped to their feet, even carried if they couldn't walk. The water was swift, and Celeste braced. But it didn't come crashing down on her, thanks to Thurion Heavenshield Thurion Heavenshield .

She swallowed hard, using her own force presence to send a burst of revitalization to those around her. Be swift. Perhaps it would be enough to give her fellows a quick jolt, just to get them to safety. It was nothing compared to the noble feat of Master Heavenshield. But there was no time to marvel at the sheer power of it. For it came with a toll.

As Celeste joined the others escaping to safety, her eyes widened as the water seemed to overwhelm the former Grandmaster. No, no, no…

However, a Knight grabbed her by the arm and ushered her on – away from the danger. And her heart dropped, but she followed. The words of Thurion were heard – felt – in the meld. They'd find him, they'd revive him.

This wasn't over. Not yet.

[Fin]
 


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The Defense of the Avatar

Tags: Romul Saxon Romul Saxon Fenn Stag Fenn Stag Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt Gwyneira Vizsla Gwyneira Vizsla Runi Kuryida Runi Kuryida Varik Awaud Varik Awaud Sergeant Omen Sergeant Omen Shakka Bralor Shakka Bralor Javik sudant

Allies: Kralmus Orr Kralmus Orr Tor’r Tal’Verda Tor’r Tal’Verda Surea Surea Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert Onrai Onrai

Directly engaging: Kaz Krayt Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt |
Open.

Objective: Hinder the Enclave boarding party.

Location: Aboard the Avatar / hangar bays.

Equipment & appearance in bio.

One of the Bloodsworn marauders gives his life to buy time for Vorm.
The other continues his suppressive fire on Kaz.
The detonators thrown by Vulcan are Force-pushed away and neutralized, but the sharp cloud of debris barrels on toward Vulcan.
Finally, Vorm tries toppling Kaz by telekinetically hitting him with the crate he was taking cover behind.

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drivelling

Slowly coming to, the four gyros on the brute's helmet turn brighter as he opens his eyes. His blurred vision constructs a world around him made up of mellow temperatures, colorful lines and a dense noise that is growing ever louder. The seconds pass by at glacial speeds – but in a snap, his muscles tense up, his vision clears, and he pushes himself up into a sitting position, before crawling behind-and-under a pile of rubble to administer himself the bacta-adrenaline serum.

The two Bloodsworn marauders advanced in lockstep toward the flying Mandalorian, their rifles ablaze, barrels aflame. They knew the risk they took by walking out into the open to defend the fallen Ren. Myriads of enemy bolts raced past them, or collided with their crude alloy body frames. They hissed and grunted with each torturous impact, but never released the trigger on their rifles as long as they had ammo in their weapons and blood in their veins. They kept walking, and shooting.

From behind a crate, the formerly airborne menace, Kaz Krayt emerges and immediately blasts the knee of one of the advancing marauders with two precise shots. The Bloodsworn warrior's welded metal kneepad immediately reaches its melting point, and the soldier falls on the other, intact knee from the sudden spike of pain. The Bloodsworn trooper throws his rifle on the ground as he begins to frantically cut the straps on his knee in order to free himself from the overheated piece of steel. Angered, his comrade steps in front of him without hesitation and continues firing at Kaz.

Then, the already hellish pandemonium turns into pure carnage. Two Enclave dropships break on through into the bay and unleash enemy droids and soldiers in equal measure, while the ships' onboard lasers excise chunks of Mawites from the mass of warring figures. Their precision is simply baffling. One such overbearing arc of laser fire blasts the Bloodsworn with the injured knee to absolute smithereens. In the previous moment he existed, and in the next, his state of matter changed to gas.

His loyal friend met his gaze right before his brutal demise. For a fleeting moment he considered himself lucky, but then repeated, and by its sound rapidly approaching detonations rang out around this side of the Hangar – and what remained intact of it. He tried keeping up the suppressive fire on Kaz, but from under his devilish helmet he noticed flying objects on his peripheries – thermal, and various other types of detonators flew toward him in a ballistic curvature. By the time he noticed the third round object hurled at him from someone outside his vision, the first explosive was dangerously close by. That's it, he thought. This is how he dies.

But in the last possible second, from behind him, a tectonic
shockwave carrying a dense tempest of debris and sharp particles barrels past him, violently carrying away the flying explosives and saving him. They explode mid-air causing no casualties, but the powerful blowouts further divide the number of knife-like metal pieces headed straight for Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt , making the cloud of shrapnel even more dangerous. Its screeching advance echoes around the hall.

Vorm, the originator of the Force-fueled blast emerges from his downed state, his chest expanding and decompressing with each inhalation of fury. His heartrate is through the roof, his body drenched in sweat. The fate of Vulcan Krayt Vulcan Krayt remains to be seen, but he waits no more. Fueled by synthetic chemicals, he reaches out once again to lash out telekinetically – however this time he does not target the evasive Kaz. With a grandiose, sideways movement of his spiked arm the Revenant Ren attempts to plow the crate sideways into Kaz, the one he took cover behind mere moments ago, with the aim to topple the Mandalorian and thereby allow for the forward Bloodsworn marauder to charge him down with righteous anger.

That's when his internal optics-interface begins to flash, highlighting a section of space on his peripheries; a flock of morbid creatures ebb and flow out from one of the Hangar's dark corners and through some sorcerous miracle metamorphose into a stunning lady… of death. The lady descends like a predator onto the Enclave intruders. Although the newest of the Ren does not yet know, he had just been blessed to witness Dodhorn Harert Dodhorn Harert in all her primordial glory.

Being a zealous worshipper of Bogan, Vorm doesn't think twice about the significance of this dark wonder. With all his being, he knows: the Dark Side itself had sent her to turn the tide of battle.
 
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Writing with: Rika Hiro Rika Hiro Don Belkora Don Belkora

Equipment in bio.


Location.

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I will strike thee down.

Like a sapient sculpture of darkness, The Blasphemer stood out in the open, his profaned crystal painting nightmarish faces onto overhead clouds. The answers he so craves are withheld from him, but he waits.

His saber's hum is drowned out by the abyssal, entropic drum of the descending boulder. Closer and closer it gets with every passing fraction of a second; tensions rise in direct ratio. Maroon-tinted feelings bleed from the direction of the young opponent, betraying the conflicting emotions of the assailant still waiting behind the stone pillar.

Perhaps his own master's teachings did not fade from his personality completely after all; for in the moment, Ptolemis finds a deeply respectable quality in the girl as she continues to face him, despite the palpable fear flowing from her through the canals of the Force.

But right before the estimated time of impact, she rolls out of cover, barely avoiding the unstoppable ball of rock, and with the spectacular ease and flair of a veteran acrobat she twists her body upright, aiming her arm tightly at the Sith Lord and fires, unleashing the storm of emotions verbally at the Blasphemer.

"Fuck you TOO!"

In a flash, his lightsaber is maneuvered with quick yet minute wrist movements in front of him, deflecting each shot. Her decision to open fire against all odds was anything but predictable, which deprived Ptolemis of the opportunity to reflect the blaster bolts. As soon as the valiant effort ceases, the Masked Blasphemer thrusts his claw-like grip in the air toward her. Yet instead of her neck, he attempts to telekinetically bind her ankles together, lift her into the air upside-down, and bid her farewell before throwing her down the steep edge of the plateau.
Goodbye.

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E N D_O F_A N_E R A
Showdown over Tython


FINAL DAWN
TYTHON , DEEP CORE
Inside the Avatar of War...

OUTFIT




HAND OF JUDGEMENT - 66TH COMPANY

The Elevator Doors opened revealing Captain Torson and his Commandos followed by the rest of the Retribution Corps who emerged from the other four elevators located beside the one Torson and his Raptors came out of (two on each side). They'd dealt with the House Io Forces in the Nutrient Storage and had come to deal with the remaining forces of House Io that had sought to sabotage the Reactor, a valiant effort but merely delaying the inevitable. As the Hand of Judgement marched through the wide hallway closing in towards the man entrance of the Reactor, Grand Overseer Marlon Sularen Marlon Sularen issued an order from the bridge of the Avatar of War for all blast doors of all other exit routes other then the one leading straight to Torson and his Forces to be shut tight and to override any attempt that might be made by the saboteurs to force them open via slicing. Regardless, Sularen would make sure that whoever was in the Reactor would not make it out and he was counting on Torson to see to it that such an outcome would occur.

As they approached the entrance of the Reactor they spotted a group of Mawite Engineers that had been forced to stand in front of the entrance blocking the Hand of Judgement's way inside, however they were having none of it. Torson would take out his Rail Pistols and as he and his men would continue their approach towards the Hangar, proceeded to fire at the Engineers one shot per Engineer aiming precisely for the head for a swift kill. Torson had no issue killing both Friendlies and Foes alike, if either became an obstacle to the objectives of the Hand of Judgement their lives was of no concern to them and they'd be disposed of regardless of affiliation. He was going to prevent House Io from destroying the Avatar of War, regardless of what it took, after all the ends justified the means as Sularen always said.

"Raptors, with me." Torson said to his men as they approached the entrance. "The rest stay behind within the Hallway, just incase they manage to teleport themselves behind us, being the cowards they are.". Soon enough, Torson and his Raptors would enter the large Reactor Chamber while the Retribution Corps would remain outside in the main hallway leading into the Reactor, the only one accessible to the House Io Androids in the Reactor. "ALRIGHT, KIDS!!!" Torson shouted. "Party's over. Lay down your arms and perhaps you shall be spared. Depends on the mood of the Grand Overseer of course" Torson proclaimed. He and his men had them cornered and there was no way they could escape. Hopefully these Androids would be reasonable enough to see the folly in their mission and surrender themselves, and who knows perhaps the Final Dawn might give them a new and better purpose, to serve a cause greater then that of House Io's. Nevertheless the fate of the Avatar of War rested in Torson's shoulders and it was up to him to ensure that nothing went wrong.


Tag [House Io] | Esmeralda Io Esmeralda Io | Percival Io Percival Io

 
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Cycle of Hatred: Journey's End


Location: Tython, Journey's End
Tags: Keilara Kala'myr Keilara Kala'myr | DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran




Inside
~ I'm cold, ~ she told him, ~ and I feel so alone. ~

"You're not alone," Kallan choked out, forcing the words past the quiet sobs that wracked his body. "I'm here." And he was, at least for the moment, but his wife was fading away. In this palace of illusion, that fading was all too literal. Her body was becoming translucent, and far too light; the presence of her was vanishing, becoming as ghostly and insubstantial as mist. The more he tried to hold onto her, to keep her close, the more she seemed to slip through his fingers. He could not hold her back when death called. No one could.

She smiled, a sad smile to match his own, and his heart broke all over again as he realized she'd accepted what was happening. It was all over, their brief life together finished, and they both knew it. ~ I just… ~ There was almost no breath left in her now, and he had to lean in close to hear her speak, his ear so close that it almost brushed her lips. ~ ... wanted to show the… ~ Kallan waited. He waited what seemed an eternity, straining his ears, listening with all his might. But his wife never spoke again, and when he looked down at her...

... there was no trace she had ever been there at all.

He could not smile any more. There was no more reason to be strong, no one else to hold himself together for. In that meadow spun from his true love's memories, now empty except for him and his own thoughts, Kallan broke down and wept like a child. He slumped onto his side, curled in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut and willing the galaxy to go away and let sweet oblivion take him, too. "You did," he told the empty space where she had been just a moment earlier. "Whatever wonderful thing you wanted to show me..."

"You did. You brought me back and opened my eyes."

"You showed me every beautiful thing there is."


And then he fell silent, and waited for the end.

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

Outside
There wasn't much left of The Mongrel, the man who had been Kallan, the man who had become Asher. There hadn't been in a long, long time. There was only a hollow metal shell over pumping hydraulics and thrumming reactors, as much powering a vehicle as a person. Within that shell, only a brain remained of his organic body, a little purple-grey lump covered in cybernetics that kept it functional after it was oxygen-starved at Nirauan. The warlord had given everything for the Maw - his body, his mind, his service, year after year.

Well, not quite everything.

Not until now.

It was too late for Mercy's final words to register, the confirmation of what he had refused to admit even to himself: that in the midst of the horrors of this war, where they had both done such terrible things, they had both held back for the sake of each other. If they had been true zealots, devoted only to the dark gods, they would never have protected each other like this. They would have sacrificed each other for the mission, many times over. But the truth was that their love, strange though it might be, was stronger than their obedience.

Time and again he had chosen her over them.

His bond over a chance at paradise.

But not when it counted most.

The Mongrel's eyes were clicking, clacking lenses, and he could not squeeze them shut as Barran's blade whistled toward him in a perfect counter. He should have known better than to drop into the night thrust, to place his full, unstoppable weight into a strike that Barran knew. He had gambled, for the strike would end the duel instantly one way or another, and he had lost. ~ I'm sorry, ~ were Asher's final words, echoing in the foyer of the house he and Mercy had built in their minds. ~ I chose wrong. I wish I'd stayed with you. ~

The blade tore through his impervium skull...

... and the warlord was no more.
 

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BEASTS
All Roads Lead To Tython, Part. V

TW: Cannibalism

Location: Mountain pass near Kaleth
Tags: Closed

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The brisk mountain air and natural serenity seemed almost artificial as Cailen looked over the nearby cliff, to the violent battle that waged below. Distant rumbles of explosions and screams of pain rang out in the valley, but they seemed so disconnected from somber heights of the mountain pass. Cailen had regained enough strength to walk on his own, but he was beset by sudden waves of intense nausea and headaches as the war raged on Tython. The presence of the Dark Side was immense, and it was taking a huge toll of the Padawan.

Master Undara stayed several meters ahead, scouting the path as they traversed its rocky terrain. He feared that it may have been compromised by the Maw, who’s cultists and shock troopers had been using such fringe locations as points on ingress behind the Alliance’s defensive line. The landing pad wasn’t exactly a covert location, but it was certainly isolated. Perhaps the Mawites hadn’t picked up its location.

Cailen supposed it was used by Alliance survey teams or maybe troubled Jedi who sought the peaceful mountain range for meditative relief. Today, it would serve as an emergency pickup point. The Padawan stumbled over a jagged rock, but saved himself from falling. Undara halted ahead, pressing onward after seeing that the boy was fine. It was a strange sensation, feeling so off balanced.

Despite the ebb and flow of vertigo, Cailen persevered. So long as his Master was in sight ahead, he knew he’d be safe. The rocky path curved sharply inward, angling away from the cliff’s edge to the mountain’s interior. The Padawan cast a final glance over the drop, a deep emotional pang wracking him as he watched a Sith warrior strike down a Jedi Knight. It sickened him to feel so helpless, so distant from the battle. He knew it’d be a death sentence to join his fellow Jedi on the battlefield, but the pain of watching his brothers and sisters lose their lives felt just as terrible.

Cailen’s thoughts were interrupted as he stumbled over another pile of stones, but instead of looking up to see his Master surveying the trail ahead, he saw Undara mere inches away. The Jedi Master clamped his hand over Cailen’s mouth before the boy could speak. Undara’s eyes were wide and serious as he rose a finger to his lips, urging the Padawan to remain silent. Just past Undara’s face, a short distance away, Cailen saw one of the most horrific things he’d ever witnessed.

Several meters down the path were three Mawite warriors - hunters, by the looks of their equipment - hunched over the shredded body of an Alliance scout. The body was barely recognizable; Were it not for the Defense Force crest emblazoned on his pauldron, you’d never know the broken mass was once a soldier. Worse yet, the Mawites were viciously tearing at the trooper’s flesh and consuming it with their bare hands. Cailen’s eyes widened, but Undara’s grave expression stifled the scream of terror that rose in his throat. The Jedi Master saw Cailen begin to wobble, and clamped a hand firmly on the boy’s shoulder to stabilize him.

‘Beasts’ was the word Master Undara had used to describe the Mawites, but it now seemed too polite an adjective. These… things, these… savages… they were eating another person. It was a horrifically surreal scene that made his head spin. If it weren’t for his Master’s hand on his shoulder, he might’ve fainted again right there. Fear of alerting them kept the Padawan reluctantly lucid. Confident that Cailen wouldn’t scream, Undara slowly retracted his hand.

“Don’t move,” Undara mouthed soundlessly.

Cailen gulped. There was only one ‘safe’ route to the landing pad, and this was it… he shuddered to think of what may lay ahead. Was the landing pad overrun, a staging ground for Mawite hunters? Had it been bombed? Was the shuttle waiting for them there? Could the crew have been cannibalized as well? He stopped the whirlwind of thoughts before they dizzied him too much.

Master Undara crept slowly into the middle of the path. He took immense care to plant each foot delicately so as not to alert the cannibals. Cailen was sure a loose stone would roll out of place, or the shifting of gravel would be just loud enough, but the hunters remained fixated on their grotesque meal. He admired the way Undara moved. It wasn’t unlike Cailen’s own footwork in the shipyards of Anaxes. There had been dozens of occasions when he’d crept among the rusted hulls of ships while evading bullies, much like his Master now with the cannibals.

By now, Undara had positioned himself dangerously close to the Mawite hunters. Cailen was still trying to ascertain his plan when the Jedi Master ignited his lightsaber in a brilliant glow of deep-yellow. The unmistakable buzz of the blade as it sliced through the crisp mountain air elicited a blood-curdling scream from one of the hunters, but it was cut short as the saber made quick work of the pack. In nearly the blink of an eye, the cannibals lay in a heap around the Alliance corpse, dismembered and cauterized from the flurry. Without skipping a beat, Undara sheathed his lightsaber and wrapped his arm around Cailen.

“It’s not far now, but we must hurry,” the Jedi Master said.

The death of the Mawites had a strangely euphoric effect on Cailen’s physical state; It was as if all the Darkness they emanated was somehow sapping the Padawan’s energy, and now that they were destroyed, he felt a surge of maneuverability return to his body. Despite this renewal, Cailen accepted his Master’s aide. He wasn’t sure just how much exertion he could handle, and a cannibal-infested mountain pass was certainly not the place to find out.

“Not far now, Cailen,” his Master repeated. “Not far now.”

 
ZjQzMq16a__xIfwsugnrWUC40_nC5ILFm3v3vsbjd2dlTqIbBwhEQ0w4SmXHmlPAu_A7m0iM5omLLdIPBjVaBb-Dt2W1_w-j49I4ow_HUQQ2Z1asP31YKtOR2JdTS_EuHk_drFcwEiZRGmuXnQ
Location: Avatar of War
Objective: Finish the Mission
Allies: HI ( Percival Io Percival Io )
Frenemies: ME
Enemies: BotM ( Joseph Torson Joseph Torson )
Direct Engagement: Joseph Torson Joseph Torson

Whatever Rebecca’s answer was, Esmeralda had every intention of going out on her shield, if it came to it.

Her armor’s sensors pinged as they registered a large group of Mawite signatures rapidly approaching the reactor room. Preparing herself for a fight, a single mental command triggered the injection of a cocktail of stimulants into the Echani’s system, including adrenal and hyper-adrenal to bolster her reflexes. Then, with a sharp nod to her partner, the Siren activated her cloaking device, light shimmering around her form as it quickly disappeared from view. From there, Esmeralda set her sights on the main entrance, railgun shots ringing out as the Final Dawn troopers began to slay the engineers and technicians in the hallway, before proceeding on towards the entrance…

But they might come no further than that, so long as she remained standing.

As soon as the first Raptors entered the reactor chamber, Esmeralda opened fire on the nearest soldiers from 17 meters away, her shotgun barking out a salvo of six seismic shells at over half of the weapon’s maximum rate of fire, only taking split-second intervals to switch targets after (potential) kills and to compensate for recoil when necessary. The shells had extreme lethal potential, capable of ripping targets asunder via an implosive shockwave much like a traditional seismic charge, albeit significantly downscaled. In the process, the Siren hadn’t deactivated her cloak, but it might be possible for the Raptors to elucidate the Siren’s location by looking for her shotgun’s muzzle flash, if they weren’t gunned down before then…

Regardless, it was sure to be a fight!


 
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Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom
COMPNOR (ISB) Junior Agent | Nite agent | Marauder and Agent of the Maw, Mongrel's advisor and shadow
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Objective: Try to save Mongrel's Asher's and Kallan's life.
Location: Journey's End, Tython
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Tags: The Mongrel The Mongrel | DECEASED Erskine Barran DECEASED Erskine Barran || The Manifold The Manifold
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[ Grief and sorrow… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>

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  • Mercy suffers a stroke due to Barran's hit.
  • Mercy tries to save Asher and Kallan.
Mercy #1
Mongrel #1
Barran #1
Mercy #2
Mongrel #2
Mercy #3
Barran #2
Mongrel #3
Mercy #4
Barran #3
Mongrel #4
Mercy #5
Barran #4
Mongrel #5
Mercy #6
Barran #5
Mongrel #6
Mercy #7
Barran #6
Manifold #1
Mongrel #7
Mercy #8
Barran #7
Mongrel #8
Manifold #2
Mercy #9
Barran #8
Mongrel #9

~ Present, Tython | Asher and Mercy (and Barran) ~
In vain did I wait for his answer… they say everything slows down at the last minute, I saw the same too. As the sword cut off his leg and headed for his head. I wanted to scream. The only part that can't be damaged. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. As the blade reached his head, his skull, it was as if he had hit mine too because of our connected minds…

The next moment I lay on the ground, red lights in front of my eyes, the machine voice of MANIAC, communicating my critical condition. Stroke. I could feel blood flowing from my nose, between my lips, and from my ears as well. I looked forward, crying, through the red lights, straight at Barran. Tears flowed from my eyes… blood. I cried blood. I looked at him with as much hatred as only a woman could, from whom everything was taken away and had nothing left. He not just took my husband, but my future too! I couldn’t look into my mind, I was still hoping he was there.

I heard the voice of that killer, but his voice got farther and farther or it was just quieter and quieter. I just looked ahead, I couldn’t move, not even my eyes. I just stared ahead where Asher lay. I wanted to scream in pain, I was suddenly so alone, I was scared, I was terrified. That was the feeling I felt the first time I touched his mind on Durace, and he was scared he was left alone in his mind, on that body. He wasn't alone. Now, I was scared, I was afraid he would disappear and he'd left me alone in my... in our mind. He has to live, he has to live! If he dies like this, his soul will be consumed by the ritual and Solipsis.

Suddenly, through the red captions, I felt a warm hand on my face, near my eyes. My heartbeat was slow, I could barely breathe. Did he think I was dead? Not yet, it couldn't be. If I die now, we can't be together. At least I want to be there with him. At the next moment? I wasn't sure, but I felt something… it was as if someone had hit me in the chest. I groaned on the ground while the snow was still falling on me. I still felt him, he wasn't completely dead yet. I can still save him. I think I saw that Barran left us here.

I tried to move, but every piece of my body was weak. MANIAC's signal and voice warned me to keep calm, rest and he told me, he's already called for reinforcement. I felt weak, one of my side almost didn't want to move. So I reached out with the other hand. Meanwhile, in my mind, in our mind, I tried to find him, to grab them, and to grasp them with all my might, to pull Asher and Kallan into my own part so that they could survive as long as possible.

It hurt, every movement, I started bleeding even more into the movement, the actions in my mind. I coughed, a large amount of blood soiled the little snow that was on the ground. The ground was muddy, making it easier to crawl and slide. I finally got there, I didn’t care that I looked so weak, pathetic, I wanted to save him. I pulled myself to the armour, to his body and did what was there in Freedom’s memories, what I saw there. Even if I died in it, it was a small price for that, to be together in the Netherworld.

~ My condition is no longer intact. I'm sorry, The Manifold The Manifold . I hope we will meet again! ~ Freedom told him.

Both my eyes and hands glowed purple as I channelled the Force and all of my Freedom's powers into the runes. The runes eventually glowed red and went out. I felt the last chains of Asher and Kallan that tied them to the Maw break apart and shattered. They were both free, after such a long time. The feeling was gone, I couldn’t feel the Force anymore. Panting and crying, I fell to the ground next to the armour, his body. I pulled the skull to myself and touched his brain gently, caringly...

For the first time in my life, I was able to touch him if I didn’t count when I was fighting for my life on Carlac. Not me! Ziare, or was it me? Does not matter. I hugged his skull and sobbed and cuddled his armour. I was still bleeding, barely able to move, and crying blood. MANIAC's signal is even redder… My condition has become worse.

~ Asher, my love! Do you hear me ?! Please… please, I beseech you, be alive, be alive! ~ I tried with all my might to grab him and keep him in my mind, keep him alive.

It don't be too late... It cannot be too late...

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LOCATION: TYTHON SPACE
CALLSIGN: REVENANT SIX
EQUIPMENT: X-WING STARFIGHTER
POST: #4

TAGS:



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“Do it,” Chaar orders. “Two Flight, Three Point, take point and punch a hole. And open those throttles - push forward, whatever it takes!” Chaar disengaged from his dogfight with a TIE fighter and pushed his engines to the max, diverting extra power to beat the SJC to the punch.


"Copy.." He answered somewhat hesitantly, the relief that his plan had been accepted barely offsetting his apprehension. A tentative hand on the stick he eased the X-Wing down towards the path he had set, the ever looming figure of the Pryde-class that they were to take out providing a sobering reminder of his near-impossible task. But they'd done the near-impossible before, they just had to do it again. He cycled his weapons systems to his warheads and steeled himself. "Mig, watch my back, get that rotary cannon going." Mylo ordered, looking over his shoulder quickly as the enemy closed in.

The droid brain complied and kept a steady spray of laserfire from a bubble-turret on the rear of the ship. An invention he hadn't really properly appreciated till now. Flicking through the firing modes he set it to the multi-missile launch, which, when the time came, would unleash the full fury of all the X-Wing could carry. Four warheads ready to soften up the shields so that the B-Wings could deal the fatal blow. Lurching forward with conviction, the ship responded as he throttled up, shooting toward the ship as it filled his viewscreen. Armed to the teeth with shields to rival any Alliance ship, he had acknowledged it was never going to be a milk run. It was as if they'd been sent to run through a ferrocrete wall.

He throttled back to keep in line as he picked up the display. The weaker points would be nearer the rear of the ship, where it was less shielded due to the prodigious girth of the Eradicator's engines. So that was where he was headed. Out of his starboard viewport he spotted small blips also racing towards the target that he identified as the other members of the unit. Meanwhile, another problem presented itself. Mig reported that his rear shields were soaking up quite a bit of fire from the TIE fighters that had taken to hounding them rather than taking on the Silver Jedi squadrons. He grimaced. They were going to present a large problem for the less manueverable

The least he could do was make their job just a tad more difficult. He banked hard to port, sticking the X-Wing up into a high vertical, inverting it briefly, climbing slightly before completing the roll and closing in on the starboard flank of the trilateral battle cruiser. It was an understatement to say that it looked bigger up close. Ogling at the massive pounders and MegaCaliber guns that could easily dwarf his ship, it drove the dagger of fear deeper into his heart. Yet he pressed on, juking two quick snapshots, turning into a diagonal dive and pulling up hard into another snap roll. "Alrighty, let's get this show on the road.."

"Mig, set four warheads for Positions 1 through 4." Menacing turbolaser fire and point defence cannons interrupted his chain of thought as his frontal shields began to alight once more, forcing to drift starboard, lining up closer and closer with the bulging hull of the cruiser, nearer to the engines. A bead of sweat formed, he could feel the veins popping out of his hands under his thick, constricting flight gloves as he kept a firm grip on the stick, letting point defence slice just above the cockpit as angled to show his port shields which were still relatively clean and hadn't taken as much of a pounding as other points. He flicked on his com to warn the rest of the unit about the impending fire. The percentage numbers for his shields slowly began to drop - a testament to the more than adequate anti-fighter measures employed by the enemy. "Heavy fire, twenty degrees!"

He needed an approach vector. Somewhere where he knew he could send his payment, but also get away quick enough without getting vaped within a second. A quick drift off to the right. Searching for somewhere... There! He had it. It was almost like his could feel the warheads drop into the chamber, a soft thud as he decelerate to give himself enough time. "Set for position one.. two.. three..four." Not yet.. the scrolling numbers as the closing black TIE blips on his display provided some ironic motivation as he hit the trigger button. Sending four proton torpedoes. "Torps away!" He exclaimed.


“I need those shields now,”

"Six to Leader, I got something for ya.."



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TYTHON | TEMPLE VALLEY
BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | SCARHOUNDS
ALLIES: MAW | Thomas Barran Thomas Barran | The Mongrel The Mongrel | OPEN
ENEMIES: BURN THEM ALL | OPEN
ENGAGING: Kranak Vizsla Kranak Vizsla | Sasha Kryze Sasha Kryze | Ghalric Rau | Xyoz Maji Xyoz Maji
GEAR: In bio | Standard loadout | shield

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ONE

Shai had seen what Xyoz was capable of, many times in the past, but to be on the receiving end of The Insatiable’s wrath was something she never expected to see. In the blink of an eye he was hanging in the air in front of her, using momentum, just like her, to engage. She didn’t have time to react before he hurled her back down into the ground. This time was easier to recover from, at least.

But as he pulled back to punch the snot out of her, the whine of several thermal detonators drove her to quickly fire several shots at point blank as she jumped again, her repulsor boots launching her out of the range of the thermal detonators. To make matters worse, a number of disruptor bolts joined into the fray along with blaster bolts from Kranak. Cybernetics and instinct carried her back towards Xyoz as she raised her feet and launched back with her boots, letting the blaster bolts smash into her heavy armour in order to evade the disruptor bolts. She wasn’t in the mood to test the ability of Beskar against weapons like those.

Of course, the sudden changes in direction brought problems of its own.

Once again her shield was open as Xyoz let loose with a powerful torrent of lightning, along with a series of explosions that riddled her face with shrapnel and scorched her features. Her personal energy shield was left behind with her jetpack, leaving her life in the hands of a primitive Beskar shield and battered armour as the Shistavanen tried to literally fry her circuits.

”Hey! Babe?! Relax, you always get all ‘bleh, bleh-bleh’ when you’re hungry. I’ll cook you up a proper slab of steak, then we can talk. Just let me SORT THESE KRIFFERS OUT!” She shouted as she switched to sonic mode and let loose on him and Blitz from behind her shield, kicking the man’s EMP grenade back at him and Kranak with the repulsor in her boot before it could go off.

More Whistling Birds this time, all of her tiny missiles released to target the three fighters while she fired with sonic rounds, tracking their movements with deadly precision. Once her pistol ran dry, she tossed it aside and drew her other one to keep firing while keeping her shield open.

She stayed on the move, either jumping or launching herself around as she continued to fire at them. She was running out of ammunition, running out of options to stay at range. If she couldn’t subdue them quickly, she was going to be forced to go close quarters.

”Why’re you running, old man?! Too scared to take a hit?!” She taunted with a cackling laugh as she fired a few extra bolts at him again in his retreat.

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Dimitri Voltura

Guest
D

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ALLIES: Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis | Darth Ptolemis Darth Ptolemis | @whoever else - there's too many of you | BOTM | NSO
ENEMIES:
Everybody else (I'll tag if you're important)
ENGAGING: Siv Dragr Siv Dragr
GEAR: In bio.

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KILL THE HERO

Reflex could be brutal.

The hunter instinctively struck out with his hand to prevent the spear from piercing his chest. The pain had to be unbearable as the monomolecular edge cut through his flesh.

He had the Mandalorian where he wanted him. But before he could follow through on an attack, he got bombarded by the gauntlet he was still holding onto.

The searing pain of some of the small explosives hitting his exposed flesh had him recoiling and dropping to the ground, drowning out the fire splashing onto his armour in the process and letting go of the spear.

The growl that ripped out of his body was more predatory than ever before. Blinded by his own gore, that Second Sight kicked in. Instinctively the hand drenched in Mandalorian blood struck out just in time for half a bubble to catch both the dagger as well as deflect the disruptor shot.

Blood pooled to the ground at his knees as his gory head hung low for a few heartbeats while his hand held up the bubble that had finally started to encase him. His body needed energy. Desperately. His breathing was haggard and wet as blood gurgled in his throat.

But first, this pestilence had to be exterminated. With the Force Sight that he had, he searched for that spark of something he could grip onto through the very nothingness caused by the voidplating. When he found it, his other hand curled into a fist.

Whether the Mando'ad was paying attention or not made no difference. He would feel the pressure of a millenium start to crunch through both his vambraces, the beskar allowing just enough resistance against the Force to not immediately crush everything including bone which would give the Mandalorian some time to do something if he was fast enough.

But it wouldn't be the Dragon's only attack. This time, Darth Hydrus wouldn't just take a stroll into the hunter's mind. The Sith Lord's multi-pronged mind would strike out simultaneously with the crushing Force to inflict shards into the mind of his foe.

Dimitri had been weakened enough to know that he had to get away to feed. This hunter was dangerous enough to dissuade the predator from trying to pull him into a death grip to properly latch onto him. Yet the energy of the mind would grant him enough power to try and get away if his foe was distracted enough.

If not, the immense pain caused by the Shard would increase, a millenium of hatred and shame and hatred again would continue to strike down on the Mandalorian's mind where bacta could not save him.

The fight for survival will indeed be deadly.


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Vesta

Guest
V



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LocationAkar Kesh, Tython
EnemiesTython Defense - Cotan Sar'andor Cotan Sar'andor , Asha Vynea | Galactic Alliance - Allyson Locke Allyson Locke , Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze , Corin Trenor Corin Trenor , Henna Ashina Henna Ashina , Asmundr Varobalder Asmundr Varobalder , Auteme Auteme , Valery Noble Valery Noble | Silver Jedi Order | New Imperial Order - Rurik Fel Rurik Fel | Mandalorian Enclave | Eternal Empire | Ashlan Crusade - Heinrich Faust Heinrich Faust
AlliesBrotherhood of the Maw | Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis , Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren , Khamul Kryze Khamul Kryze , Jem Fossk Jem Fossk , Darth Daiara Darth Daiara
EquipmentLightsaber & The Hunger
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This was the moment she had been preparing for - perhaps not with Allyson Locke Allyson Locke in mind, she had always thought she'd have been the one to find Rurik Fel Rurik Fel for a second bout - and it was far grander a stage than the Jedi could have ever realized it to be. The woman had pressed into the Sith's personal space under the assumption that their fight was just that, a duel between two lone fighters at the fringes of war far from the heart of the conflict; she hadn't taken into consideration that the reason they were so far removed had been by design, that Mori intended to make sure there was no last-moment help she could be convinced into giving Darth Solipsis Darth Solipsis as he was met with his coup de grâce in a way that would keep her free of suspicions of her own involvement in his downfall. Even the delectably smug, self-satisfied, tone that each of Allyson's words dripped with were as misplaced as her trust that Mori had ever been a reliable orator.

She thought she had wasted her time, unaware that even something as mundane as where she chose to take her next step was one made by conscious thought. Breathing was a meticulous exercise in control, lightning in efficiency - the lightsaber that she had refused to use this entire time?

To know one's enemy was to find victory, or so the Sith of Korriban had believed, and yet they had found themselves trampled over by their very own kind. The Jedi thought that to believe, to find faith, in the force would lead them to a victory that mattered - an end justified by their means. She, and to a lesser extent the Maw, had subscribed to a far different mantra than either of the two. She'd been raised in an empire to a father that embodied its draconic beliefs and a cousin that praised them, she knew that their principled beliefs in an ideal order was as doomed to fail as the lives that would be lost by the Jedi who entrusted their fates to something as fickle, as cruel, as the force itself. To present herself in the image of some sort of psychotic villain, a wave of entropy hell-bent on consuming the stars and the galaxy between them, with a clear desire to use all of her strength from the onset was one which simultaneously set her enemies on edge while also luring them into a false sense of security - a belief that they understood the enemy that they faced.

Ozone burned as the electricity coursed through the two of them. There was something about the degree of self-assuredness that the Jedi spoke to her with that elicited a degree of hatred that she hadn't felt since Ryv Ryv and Maynard Treicolt Maynard Treicolt had confronted her and Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin on Bastion so many years ago - the misguided belief that they, that she, knew exactly what the Sith was thinking and how it would play out. She could play into that book again, react by willing herself to outlast the woman's determined efforts to wear the two of them out, or.. or she could improvise. There was only one hand holding the haft of her spear, the other hand she had wasn't particularly engaged in any way with the flow of battle, at least not yet.

Not until the saber at her hip was tore from its constraints and powered on by a subtle redirection of lightning through its hilt.

"No, you wasted your own time."

The wave of thermal energy that an igniting saber released came first, the red glow dying the colorless space between them with a brilliant crimson, and the infamous snap-hiss followed soon after. She tilted that hand towards the Jedi's wrist, towards the hand that grabbed ahold of her spear, and felt her grip tighten as the electricity coursed through her limbs like a vice - like she'd grabbed a live wire, something she was certain her adversary understood would make saving a precariously placed hand all the much more difficult.

"All your efforts - for nothing."

It didn't matter if the woman died, if she escaped, or if she kept pressing on - the gloves were coming off, the chains undone.

"Fall."

The depths of her hunger, the way it devoured the world around her as if her presence was the mouth of the Maw itself, spread beyond just their simple duet. There was no putting the djinn back in its lamp, no sealing the wound torn into the belly of the force itself - the ritual that Solipsis had started was hardly the final act, it was the nourishment that was needed to feed the beast that would eat the planet and its imbecilic defenders whole.

Allyson might've thought she had kept Mori from the heart of the conflict, distracted, but she hadn't guessed she had been staring the weapon in the face this entire time.

 
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———Blackened Valkyrie———
Factory Judge


Allies: Carnifex-Demiurge
Enemies: GA + Defenders
Engaging: Vren Rook Vren Rook , Koda Fett
Equipment: Silens cursor, Revans Lightsaber
Borrowed Equipment: "Judicator" Adaptive Battle Rifle
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Jeff Williams - Ra'viatah, Osa Manetah

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As the explosion happened below, her wings angled harshly to ride on the sudden influx of heat sending the two shooting upwards like a booster. Once again Teresa was beginning to smile finding enjoyment in the heat of battle, but even she could feel it. That time on this world was quickly coming to an end. There was something she still desired to do yet.

The now bubbled mandalorian had been rendered harmless for the moment by carnifex, though she wanted to make sure. So far she had used very little of her force vitality having saved up most for what laid ahead but this was a minor exception for the major annoyance. The bugs so far had kept her from seeing the ritual, what would have been a good learning experience.

Gathering up vast amounts of power into her hand drawing from the calamity of the dying world and the millions upon millions of deaths happening all around, Teresa's hand began to visibly glow with a white orb in the palm of her hand. With a release a boom of energy was released that began to expand the further it went and its speed would out match any jetpack. Mists of red wisped from its outer edge of the force burst.

Teresa felt the swing of Carnifex's weight as he signalled with his leg to turn until. As it came back level she already knew the destination. Their path now was the top of the hill that had been taken by his forces. Wings would beat hard and she had stamina to spare. Right now she counted on Carnifex to be the attacker while she avoided and defended. Still it was hard to ignore the shadow screaming its peace from below. Yet another with a grudge.

"Perhaps you are simply an idiot to think its pride is what drives Carnifex, Misty shadow thing. Also I am no fool so you can shut your.... Do you even have a mouth!?" Teresa shouted down with obviously little intention to hear a response.

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It did not take more than a minuet to reach the summit and her angle of decent brought the two to a nice landing. Her legs unwrapped from around the mans waist once again stood on her own two feet. Looking around at all the forces, Teresa placed her blade upon the leather belt exchanging it for the one that had been collected from the battlefield. "REPEL THE ATTACKERS IF THEY CHOSE TO PERSUE, LET THEM GAMBLE THEIR LIVES IF THEY DARE!"

"Okay, gonna begin." She spoke with such ambition as her eyes met with Kaine's for a second. Moments to spare the woman split apart the double bladed lightsaber ripping away the metal with the force leaving the two green crystals floating. She knelt down sitting on both calves and began to tune almost everything out, there was only room for the important things now. The world was dying, bleeding with the dark side, the nexus moon that reined above and the ritual before her.

She first pulled away the excess energies from the ritual just in time as the stone split casting off such a powerful blast, secondly she pulled on the death of the world and millions, their screams and turmoil, the absolution of an end, thirdly was herself. The anger, pain even her passion, everything she had experienced bubbled to the surface and began to pour all of it into the green crystals before her.

She intended to not just brake the will, but dominate them and brake them so much their power would be bound and loyal to only one master. They would be the focus for her future power as well as a testament to leaving behind her own past. Not that she had noticed but the green began to turn yellow into orange and finally red. Not that the woman noticed as she proceeded to flood more power into them. Sweat formed on her forehead stinging the burned that lightly remained even after the healing received earlier.

Force bursted Vren Rook Vren Rook away
Shouted mean things at Shade of Decay Shade of Decay
Teresa Flew Carni to the peek
Teresa has begun to draw on a lot of power as she starts to bleed crystals
 

THE END IS THE BEGINNING

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:: Hanger, Avatar of War



"That is why you will fail." Some things were lost forever? That depended on your perception of the universe. If one expected all the atoms to be in a specific arrangement with specific bonds with an unbroken existence then the finality existed. If, however, it was not about any one thing, but the archetype behind that thing, which led to the ultimate reason for existence itself... what finality could there be? Even Creation itself wound find some new form once the current one ceased. Arguing an end of existence to a Spiritual Agent of the Manda was a good exercise in learning how to be exceptionally patient.

There was neither time nor inclination to respond to the woman's quip about her knowledge of Mando'a. It only affirmed many still did not appreciate nor understand the source of a Shaman's power. There was power in words. More than so many that craved battle would accept because they did not understand it; it was a foreign tool not made for their grasp.

Obviously, Onrai felt like demonstrating her own form of power as she quickly drew away from the stroke and into the wall. In so doing, the dark power had yorik coral that infested the ship flare outward to ensnare the Shaman. A substance the Enclave had become familiar with given the Yuuzhan Vong presence in the Worldship Crater of Kestri. Not that it gave the Shaman any kind of advantage combating it, but better to know a thing rather than question what corrupt properties it might possess.

Runi gritted her teeth as she forced her right hand up to grasp the end of the blade in her left hand. With a cry, she thrust the tip toward the wall as the coral swept about her. A concussive burst of force was thrown forward and curled back as it rebound off the wall ahead; wind flew by the Shaman as she sought to plunge the white hot blade into the solid material where Onrai had fled. Tendrils of light peeled away from the cloak that lay across Runi's back, which reached upward to grapple with the coral that sought to encapsulate the woman. A battle on two fronts between two diametrically opposed women or entities of Will.

Sweat beaded and slid down her body from the exertion. The pain and strain of her injuries were like grinding her shoulder into a small pile of glass shards. What were these things with the men and women of the Enclave -- her vod -- there with her; people whose trust they'd placed in her to stand with them to the last? Paltry matters of the flesh. A suffering each of them endured gladly for their beliefs. It was a pity the demonstration was made in the presence of those blinded by hatred and insatiable thirst for power.


 

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