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Skirmish Campaign Sith Camarilla Episode 1 [NJO v Sith Keepers]

Siqsa Kun

Overlord's Shadow Hand
Character

STORY BACKGROUND: Following the discovery of the Sith Holocron of the ancient Dark Lord of the Sith Naga Sadow on Foerost, the New Jedi Order had concluded that its powers were too great to be held in the vault deep within the Coruscant Temple. A Jedi Taskforce of NJO Shadows and Jedi Knights was assembled to help ferry the holocron, stored within a special container, aboard a Cargo Ferry, to a nearby space port. They believed that the holocron could be better studied if it was taken to Tython where Jedi Scholars could wield the ambient Light Side to shield themselves and dissect the holocron. However, darker forces have taken notice. Hidden in Coruscant’s underworld for sometime is the Sith Assassin, Siqsa Kun, the very shadow of the absconded lord of a new Sith Order - the Qotsisajakaar - Keepers of the Sith Code. Leading a shadowed strike team, she prepares a trap to snatch the holocron in mid-transit, right in the middle of Coruscant’s busy flying traffic.

The Coruscant spires crowded the skyline, blotting out the sun and casting long drenching shadows that obscured the descending arcology of the ecumenopolis in homogenous slabs of urban sprawl. Perched on an open roof top of one of these shadowed towers was Siqsa Kun, surveying the cluttered floating traffic of the resplendent coreworld speed by in crowded vectors of light, noise, and vibrating echoing hums of repulsorlift engines. She herself was sitting reclined on the black cushioned seat of her hulking speeder bike. Her back was fully pressed against the ribbed padding of the seat’s back panel with one leg mounted on the front control deck while the other slung off to the side.

Her arms were crossed over her armored chest and her head was dropping down, covered by the hood that was built into the collar of her dark combat battle suit. Rested in her lap was the face plate to the black and chrome helmet she was wearing. Her freed face drew in long breathes of the Coruscant crisp and polluted airs, feeding her breathed meditations. Behind the closed lids of her eyes, Siqsa drew upon the Force. Drew upon the Dark Side. But, did so in small, tempered, and slivering samples. Using the ambient noise of the all the compiled and layered life on Coruscant, Siqsa hid her own among them. Using a technique that buried her presence, her signature in the Force, much like a ship’s with its scrambler on, became scattered and camouflaged with the constant chorus of echoes in the Force produced by Coruscant citizens.​

Though her mind and aura in the Force were concealed, her appearance was less so. Normally, Siqsa would have donned her Ubese Gunslinger’s disguise, as she had been doing so for the months she had been infiltrating the Coruscant Underworld. But, there was a certain psychological element needed for this mission that required her visage as a Sith Assassin. This was the Sith Keepers first strike against the New Jedi Order, a threat which would no doubt fill the vacuum of power once the Sith Empire had completed its wailing death throes. Knowledge, preparation, and resources would need to be assembled to combat the future foe. Knowledge that the recovered Holocron of Naga Sadow would supply. Knowledge that was her own heritage, the heritage of her ancestors. Pillaged by many for centuries.​

A bubbling beeping alarm drew Siqsa out of her brooding stew of cold fury and malice. Siqsa opened her eyes, golden binary stars set in crimson skin looked out to a probe droid flying down to her. It's wobbling repulsors greeted her along with a series of beeps and clicks. Its singular large eye blinking a series of reports that fly from its recording devices down into a forearm mounted holoprojector device. Siqsa untangled her arms and pressed the small button nubs that stuck out from the rim of the holoprojector’s lens.

The commands summoned an urban traffic map of the Coruscant’s Galactic City district. A red blinking dot was recorded moving down its sky traffic lanes. Siqsa’s eyes traced the dots movements and plotted its potential courses. The dot would round her location soon. The Sith Pureblood tapped some more commands and sent the data to the others who lingered beneath the shadows of Coruscant’s towers. The dot, was a low flying Cargo Ferry, with what seemed to be smaller police speeder escorts providing cleared pathways through the traffic jams. That was their target. The Jedi were directing it to a spaceport by Sub-District 298. She would not let them arrive.​

Siqsa tapped some more commands into her device. The data streamed to the others who were hiding nearby ( Vella Forte Vella Forte Vora Kaar Vora Kaar Lyra Voi'kryt Lyra Voi'kryt ). They would converge on the Ferry at different times, from different angles of attack. Siqsa dismissed the probe droid, waving it away. It complied and flew off back to where its docking port was kept on the rooftop. Plucking the face plate she snapped it back into its sockets along the edges of her front facing helmet panelling. She reached over and grabbed the handles of her speeder and with her descending foot stomped on the ignition lever. The speeder roared into life and levitated in place. Siqsa pressed the controls forward and the speeder burst from the rooftop and dived into Coruscant traffic, merging into its dizzying vehicles.​

Just as she had calculated, the Cargo Ferry flew overhead. Siqsa watched it pass overhead and let it drift by her for some distance. Then she changed several lanes and began to mirror the Ferry, slowly drawing nearer and nearer, waiting for the right opportunity to assault its escorts then the Ferry directly.​


SITH KEEPER TAGS: Vella Forte Vella Forte Vora Kaar Vora Kaar Lyra Voi'kryt Lyra Voi'kryt
NJO TAGS: Auteme Auteme Maynard Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Ryv Ryv Oceiros Sunstrider Oceiros Sunstrider
 
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Bladeborn
Character
// Coruscant // Intercepting Target: Escort
Wreak Havoc

The comm unit on her vambrace thrummed with an update, and she angled it toward her review the message. A progress report from the pureblood.

Three minutes and thirty seconds she suspected, based on the trajectory of the red dot. And the nearness of Siqsa to that dot. The escorts would be taken out first, then the ferry itself.

Five meter high screens rotated through advertisements for machine rigs on one screen, high fashion the next, a smiling face of a politician the next, and discount code for noodles somewhere in Xiao Town. A newsfeed scrawled and gave updates on the conflicts going around the galaxy, how the Imperials were faring, and propaganda of the latest exploits on Velusia.Their clamor only a single thread over the constant din of voices, merchant carts, and machinery.

The former Inquisitor was concealed in stretches of shadows from the tall buildings, standard for someone who was supposed to be unseen. A stark contrast to the citizens of Coruscant who boasted their presence with each step they took. It was similar to some of those that had strut the streets of Bastion. The world, beyond this city, they suspected belonged to them. If her face hadn’t been hidden, there’d be a recognizable modicum of disgust in her expression.

Beyond obscuring any trace of herself in the Force, she’d taken other precautions to be less visible until the trap was sprung. Her suit’s plating had been scoured until nothing was smooth enough to cast a reflection, and her heads-up display was dimmed almost to the point of invisibility. The voices in her ears –– murmurs from the team when they chose to deliver an update –– were so reduced it was almost passive.

The sound of the speeder’s engines was the only thing that would perhaps draw attention. With a backward kick of her heel, the bike accelerated and she leaned into the handlebars. Opening the throttle, she leaned heavily to the right to intercept in a T the line of their targets before pulling up, inclining steeply above the final escort.

From a compartment somewhere on her sleeve, a small disc emerged to her palm and she dropped it. The scrambler becoming airborne for only a moment before it latched onto the roof of the escort behind the ferry. Her premiere target. The scrambler activated, jamming the comms of the vessel. The drivers probably wouldn’t notice for another twenty-five seconds when they would miss an update to take a left turn up ahead.

Simultaneously to the scrambler meeting its target, she reduced the angle of her thrusters and pulled her speeder so close to the escorts that they almost scraped against one another, but her control kept her comfortably beside the driver window. The passenger was the first to notice her, glancing between the dashboard and a quick double-take to their right where she was just above eye level. Her speeder’s handle went first, ramming into the window of the passenger seat enough to give it a crack. The screeching sound was horrendous and wrenched the bike into a wobble she had to justify before gesturing to the person inside as if about to apologize. The person inside was trained enough not to roll the window down to talk to a masked interloper.

She'd tried. Adjusting the course of action, she shifted her weight to jam her heels into the middle of the window. The shower of glass into the lap of the passenger was enough of a distraction for her to leap from the speeder, discarding it in the wake of traffic, and into the cabin of the vehicle.

From there, it was mostly wrist-wrenching, bone snapping, and temple knocking to render the passengers inside unconscious and she took the wheel, using her hip to knock the limp driver to the side. He crumpled into the lap of his partner, who was leaning pathetically against the frame of the vehicle -- the wind from the traffic outside rushing against his lifeless face. No flashes of lightsabers just yet.

<Final escort’s got a new driver. Who’s up next?>

 
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Renegade Commander
Writer


// Renegade Commander //
//
Coruscant, Galactic City District
// Feet Don't Fail Me




“Sybila..,” her master’s form flickered from the holo projector, the cerulean light casting odd angles across the steel walls. He was shrouded but the woman knew the grating voice of Darth Avernus Darth Avernus all too well. “An auspicious opportunity has arisen, and I have a task for you. It will lead to the next steps of your training, I have asked very little of you and now is your time to prove yourself my apprentice.”

It had been the pinnacle Sybila surmised, when the transmission had ended-when she had decided. When she had ceased to consider all others and their influence upon her. Something far more deep rooted spurred her decision, her anger namely-her desire for ramifications that cemented every step forward. The climb would matter very little, the acts of violence that would be needed; Sybila was ready now. Her eyes were set upon her own ambitions, some things were simply too difficult to mend, to bend to, so she refused. No, now she had no qualms acting outside the sphere of influence of the Imperial dogma; to see this absolution through. For better or for worse.

The street vendor’s grill sizzled, spitting and hissing as more questionable meat was tossed out across the burning surface. The local station blared some music off the cart, though it sounded more like static. The dingy street corner had chosen had amassed a small collection of vehicles and civilians that flocked to the source for a midday bite. Tucked in the shadow of the behemoth towers that made up the upper crust of the city world, the metallic gleamed brilliantly where the sun did touch. Down here though, there was too much grunge. The roar of engines from traffic passed well over head, the mechanical noises reverberated up the street-the flicker of the shadows passing from the air lanes. It reminded her of Bescane-the air was rancid from fuel and the garbage left in the streets. Sybila had planted herself among the handful of bikes and shuttles on the sidewalk for the stake, lounging against her rusty speeder with a burger in hand.

There was a holonews reel projected off the street hub and Sybila leaned back to catch a glimpse at the local weather report that circulated on the screen. She had expected something far more sinister than an asset retrieval tucked among the sprawling urban center. Smacking her lips as she swallowed the last bite of the griller, she plucked the drink up-slurping it loudly. There had been radio silence from the strike force but the woman preferred it that way. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stilled, regarding her drink. She gave it one shake stirring up the ice before she sighed; lobbing the empty container at the trash compactor. It had been an improvement to the ration cuts and hit the spot, a distraction really and one that she used to masquerade under; just in the blind spot of the cameras anchored on the street corner too. Each breath and movement slow, steady as she concentrated upon a quiet mind. Her patience strained as she buried her presence in the Force among the humdrum of bodies.

Shrouded under the heavy hood of the overcoat, the noise of the city was loud in her ears-her helmet hung precariously off the handle of the bike. Her rifle tucked under the long trail of the red coat, strapped on to her hip. Old habits died hard and she scoffed bitterly at the thought, the thought of a smoke now tempted her but she had thrown the last cheap ciggara out months ago. Sybila distracted herself, mopping up the grease on her gloves meticulous; she was in a sour mood now. With out a second thought, she tossed the paper aside carelessly with the other rubbish that piled up on the black top.

Sybila reflected upon the gauntlets, and her armor-surface of her suit had been scrubbed, reconstructed from any affiliation to the New Order. As far as she was concerned..she looked like another non-descript merc trash on the street. Muttering under her breath, Sybila reached over the dash of the bike as the channel flickered. The communicator blinked in her peripheral.
Time to go to work, she snagged her helmet with a heavy hand before she slipped it on; adjusting the coat hood back on. She was a renegade at best now.

The seal hissed, the screen dimmed just before the A.I began registering the information. Tilting her head up as the digital map followed the point of interest. Before her eyes a red outline flickered over the local air traffic on the HUD. The Jedi team..if they had even sent professionals course plotted out. Sybila glanced over her shoulder into the traffic lanes, the ferry was highlighted on the screen-a series of warnings flickered as the police escort cruisers flashed their lights, forced to put along the lines of the vehicles caught in the mid day rush.

The woman swung one leg over the speeder as the binoculars readjusted out. Sybila brushed out her coat as she cranked the bike engine on-merging into the traffic ahead of the convoy. The transport rocked as she veered left into the lanes, there was roughly a block between her and the lead escort and her thumb feathered the throttle. Sybila drove the bike through the gaps of the lanes, horns blaring as she cut through the lanes. Just another asshole driving recklessly. Lost in the sea of chrome and repulsors, she creeped along. The hum of the engines mute over the audio. Sybila positioned herself at the head of the column.

A timer flashed at the corner of her HUD and she began to count the seconds under her breath. The close quarters..the fall out of the trigger line-Sybila reached down checking the pull line that fed into the packed cargo box. She tried not to linger on the civilian fall out, the risks-it wasn't her concern. Far too disciplined to glance back a second time, to risk drawing that much attention to herself. Sybila grimaced beneath her shroud as she slowed the bike, close to stalling. On the map the crimson tracker closed in on her rear and her eyes watched it, inhaling deeply as she prepared herself. She had to trust the others would uphold the mission, but Sybila wasn't going to put that much stock in the strangers. She knew better. Her servo tightened on the wire, her other hand steering the speeder. She could hear the blare of the siren that drew closure behind her. The shuttles along her lane and air speeders slowly drifted aside to make room, mindful of the law-but not her.

<<”Time for the fire works,”>> Sybila uttered over the link, tensing as she made her move.

Keepers: Siqsa Kun Siqsa Kun Vella Forte Vella Forte Vora Kaar Vora Kaar
NJO: Maynard Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Auteme Auteme Oceiros Sunstrider Oceiros Sunstrider Ryv Ryv
 
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