Invasion [SJO vs TSE] Operation Silversaber: Silver Jedi Invasion of the Mirial Hex

[Sky'ito Yumi]

Location: Mirial, some roof
Objective: Honorable duel.... TO THE DEATH!!!
Allies: SJO, RA
Opposition: [member="Lark"]
Equipment (see signature)

Time stood still for a second as the two opposing parties sized each other up for the first engagement, Sukai awaiting the Siths attack, confident that he would be aggressive one. Her intuition was right as the red headed man made the first move, bringing his sword down in an quick and overhead slash, though his initially wiring around allowed for Sukai to anticipate the move and assume its direction.

Taking a step forward she brought her blade in a upwards side swing from her right to left, aimed to intercept the blade before Lark could put the full force of momentum behind it and bat the blade to the side. Continuing with the momentum of the swing, with her shoulder not facing the Sith, Sukai would push off the floor, attempting to elbow barge the man in the chest, wanting to get a early strike in on the duel.

 

[Dante Sotari]

Location: Mirial, Northern Reaches, Orbital Cannon
Allies: [member="Morgan Vance"], TSE
Enemies: The Silver Jedi ([member="Arisa Yune"] [member="Stephanie Swail"]?)
Take Me to Church

She nodded, not looking at him, her focus on the screens in front of her.

"Good idea," she agreed. "Just do it fast, okay? Get your arse back under cover quick. They are gonna notice us here fast."

Dante didn't pay any attention as he left the room, trying to raise someone, anyone, on the comm system. There was so much chatter, so much chaos, but eventually she got through to the local garrison. But within a minute, it was clear they weren't getting back up from that quarter.

"Look, I just need you to-"

"Listen Lieutenant Sotari, I hear you but you gotta understand. I have Jedi crawling all the way up to my kidneys, ya feel me? No one's getting out there any time soon. A pulse went out from the Dark Lord, another Sith called for all available outlier regiments. You two are on your own. Just hunker down and ride it out, ya?"

"Yeah," she muttered, "thanks."

Clicking the comm channel closed she snorted. "For nothing."

Dialing over to Morgan, she relayed.

"No dice. We're running solo on this, everyone's tied up. I guess we'll just have to....."

She trailed off, the comm to her mouth as her eyes tracked movement on the sensor array.

"MORGAN GET INSIDE NOW!"

Dante was already sprinting, taking the stairs up out of the control caldera three at a time as she went careening toward the entrance. She had no idea what the payload was going to be- it didn't matter. The facility had anti-personnel defenses, but nothing anti-aircraft, nothing to baffle those capabilities.

From inside the building, she couldn't feel it. The delivered Hornet missiles impacted on the shield, weakening it then pushing through with the next phase. Not enough to take down the shields themselves, but enough, maybe, to deliver something that could. Outside, the vibro flechettes sang through the air, delivered in turn by the Hornets.

It was a one in a thousand shot, really- a shot gun blast from a moving target, needing a hit at just the right angle not once, but twice.

But it only took one perfect hit. A hundred other flechettes cut through the air in front of the facility. One, on perfect trajectory, perfectly angled, sliced through the exterior casing of the shield generators like a hot knife through butter, severing the wire that linked it to the powersource inside the facility.

The shield flickered, and died.

The cannon fired on its auto timer. But this time, the shield did not return. The facility was vulnerable.

And Dante ran toward the entrance of the facility.

Praying he'd gotten inside in time.

That she hadn't lost another partner when she hadn't had his back.

 

[Darth Bellum]

Location | Capital of Mirial
Objective | Push back against SJO Forces
Company | TSE Soldiers, Mirialin Militiamen, [member="Samka Derith"]

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Vexen would have had his lightsaber clipped to his belt as he held his hands behind his back, overseeing the offloading of troops as his cape, now in tatters and perforated, still billowed behind him. The lieutenant had received her orders and proceeded to carry them out as the nearly full transport was soon emptied of its cargo. Crates were being cracked open with their contents swiftly being distributed, the empty caches now being stacked for cover. The injured were helped to hobble off to another secondary fortified position that the Mirialin militiamen had selected as the best spot for a fallback. Should the primary defense fall, they would still have a position to fall back to and hold until proper assistance had arrived.

Vexen lets out a grizzled grunt as he brings one hand up to his chest, his palm facing the sky as a holographic image of the city from several different perspectives appeared, provided by reconnaissance droids deployed all around. It was a mess; casualties littering the streets, both military and civilian along with hundreds of corpses. It seemed the Jedi had fallen so far from the grace of the Light that they praised and worshipped. Whatever guidance they sought clearly was not the same as Jedi he had met so many centuries ago. Truly a fascinating thing, to be able to witness such a change in history. His focus was on his palm as he looked for areas that were of tactical importance, trying his best to figure which area would be in need of the most support. Their reinforcements were limited for the time being until the rest of Mirial was alerted and all the military outposts and bases scattered across the surface caught wind and were able to send additional hands. That and the rest of the Sith Armada had yet to arrive.

Vexen's moment of silence was broken as a quiet, feminine voice was heard saying, " You requested reinforcements, my Lord? ". He would turn his head, though he would see no one at a glance. It was only until he decided to look down a bit that he was able to notice the short female standing before him. A part of him wanted to scoff or laugh at the sight, but he sensed a sinister aura about the young woman. He would raise a brow from beneath his helmet as he spoke, " I requested reinforcements and they send me a child? " Vexen's superiority complex was beginning to show as he disregarded the woman's presentation of herself as assistance, his hand clenching into a fist as the hologram vanished. His hand returned behind his back as he looks down at the small woman who he towered over. He would observe her features and mannerisms as she spoke once more " I can offer my services. " Perhaps appearances were deceiving, but Vexen was always one to judge based on character and skill. He would finally respond after her final statement stating her capableness in executing Jedi " I do not recognize you Young One...Who sent you to aid me? " She was not Sith. Not any Sith he had met by any means, but there was still the presence of the Dark Side nonetheless that reached him.

 

[Vereshin]

Location: The Barricade
Objective: Find Hirou
Allies: [member="Tabigarashu Madara"], [member="Darth Saarai"]

Vereshin grew increasingly exhausted as he continued to flee towards the capital building, approaching a barricade separating the city from the retreating undead. Hirou's presence in the Force became stronger as he caught sight of another face of the Sith, a face recognizable by impressive plumes. Stopping in the street to place his hands on his thighs and pant heavily, gasping for breath at the sight of the Sith Lord, Vereshin raised a hand and tried to cry Lord Saarai's name, just when he noticed the Nezumi sitting on his shoulder.

"Hirou!" The Sith called through breaths of fatigue. His thin frame could only handle so much exertion and he panted, desperate for water. After a moment of regaining his strength, Vereshin rose to his full height and strode towards Lord Saarai and Hirou, reaching down to take Tiba from his pocket and placing her on Fa's other shoulder, reuniting her with the other Nezumi. "We lost track of you at the cultist compound and feared for the worst." Vereshin spoke to Hirou before nodding his head in a gesture of respect to Lord Fa.

"I am at your service, my Lord." Vereshin placed a hand on his chest and lowered his head as he addressed the Sith Lord. An Imperial soldier quickly approached him with a bottle of water, which he gleefully accepted and drank eagerly from. "The cultists are being dealt with as we speak." He finished and awaited further orders.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Location: Mirial | The Capital.
Objective: Clean up this mess.
Allies: The Sith Empire & Mirial. - [member="Tabigarashu Madara"] | [member="Vereshin"]
Enemies: The Silver Jedi. - [member="Roona Osmari"] | [member="Valkren Calderon"]

Had this been any other day Lord Fa would have ended it there.

They had business to tend to and feelings could possibly be mended later, but something spurred Tai on. Something told him to not let the moment slip away between his feathers and show the proper amount of appreciation for what the little Nezumi had been through.

"Your assistance was invaluable, Hirou, thank you for your service."

"You already knew everything, my Lord." Hirou pointed out accurately, to which the peacock inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Yes, my source turned out to be correct, but I only knew for certain when you confirmed them. I have more faith in what you saw and heard... than what I read off a datapad." Anything more would be interrupted as all of a sudden someone ran up, the Sith troopers and Mirialans immediately stood at attention and eyed Vereshin with suspicion, but Lord Saarai did not seem worried.

They knew better than to take many independent actions when a Sith Lord stood with them.

All of a sudden a second Nezumi was placed on his shoulder and Tiba was even less filled with decorum than Hirou. First, she brushed her cheek against his feather-deck, before darting across his shoulder to Hirou and started to chitter in low-relieved tunes.

This... was a strange set of developments, but Tai was equally relieved that Tiba had made it.

"Your care for mine will serve you well in the future, acolyte." After all, it wasn't exactly noticeable that Vereshin was a Knight of the Empire, but the Thirriken could be forgiven for making an assumption. There was so much to do and so little time to do it. They had to push the invaders out, had to take stock of the damage done by the Jedi and their cultist allies, they had figure out how many had lost their lives because of this nonsensical incursion.

They had to-

"My Lord!" Another of the Mirialans. He ran up, comms still in his hand and listening with wide eyes. "The nearby garrison is under attack! Soldiers sieging the building, they need reinforcements!"

Feth.

It was as if they didn't have enough work cut out for them already.

"Hirou, Tiba, I want both of you to go with the Acolyte. I will deal with this... siege of theirs." He was loathe to let them out of his sight so quickly after being reunited, but to be Sith was to take responsibility for those weaker. If this garrison could not defend itself, then he would need to make sure they were defended. Otherwise... why would they ever swear allegiance to theirs, if there were no certain benefits that came with said allegiance?

They were a couple of streets further.

It would need to be a fast sprint.

 

[Kenth Typho]

Location: Mirial
Allies: [member="Dante Sotari"] | Sith Empire
Enemies: The Silver Jedi | ( [member="Arisa Yune"] | [member="Stephanie Swail"] ?)

Everything had gone rather well.

The entrance was mined and would protect them against direct incursion for at least a little while. Enough to buy them time, enough for the Sith to get off their backsides and actually do something to protect the huge fething orbital cannon that was suppressing the hostile forces in the air and in space. He was checking the last set of mines when Dante's voice almost popped his eardrums and Morgan grimaced. "Dante, I am almost done here, what's wro-" That was followed by an explosion as a torpedo came flying in at sub-sonic speed towards them, before being absorbed by the shield. The agent was about to reply something snarky to Sotari, about how she was worrying to much, until his eyes widened.

Those torpedos hadn't been the main point of the exercise.

Without the ion field suppressing his cybernetics he could make out the metal shrapnel incoming and incoming fast. He ran. Turning around and sprinting for the entrance that would mean relative salvation, an escape from certain death by a thousand cuts.

Too slow.

He saw it already, he was too far away to make it with the speed those things were in-

Pain.

The force of impact caused him to fly through the entrance, collapsing against a wall. Blood trailed him, the shrapnel pieces had cut straight through armor-weave, ripped his leg, side, it hurt. It was the first time that Morgan felt true pain since the incident. Pain. Red in front of his eyes, but some part of his mind pushed him on. There was noise in his ears, blood pumping and adrenaline weaving. He gritted his teeth, crawling and leaving a trail of blood.

His fist rammed against the emergency trigger and it would start a lock-down of the facility.

Those fethers had something coming for them once they got here in the flesh. In the distance Morgan could almost make out the skittering of boots to the ground, running, were they already there? No, that couldn't be, could it?

Too soon.

Pain.

His gun was removed from the holster and the barrel aimed at the ground.

Better to go out in a fight, he reckoned.

 

[Darth Empyrean]

Mirial, corrupting the young.

[member="Dusaro Dresari"]


Toxins filled Dusaro’s blood stream, inhibiting reality and substituting a cruel indignation forged by The Slave. An intense, instantaneous, hallucinogenic feeling overcame the young padawan, coursing through his veins just as the blood that kept him alive; only more foreign and deplorable. A mental prison made of foreign substances, something The Slave had lived with for years, but now passed onto Dusaro; if only temporarily.

Memories attempted to flash in his vision, yet subsided to a series of ruptured walls that fought to fall yet always stood. Upon closer inspection, these maneuvering walls were twisting, malignant in presence and forever breaking what semblance of sanity he held. It was obvious now that what he saw wasn’t reality, but every moment his brain attempted to ‘reset’ another image would appear.

Between the offset of his balance, and the unexpected imagery that masked his reality, Dusaro’s elbow went amiss, narrowly missing The Slave’s head. The Slave however, was still impressed that he wasn’t killed by the initial strike, as he gave no known heed to his strike, not one he knew of at least. That meant this could be a real fight, and with that thought a cruel grin found itself beneath the mask he carried.

The song that crept from the sword never ceased, only redirected its attention. In the same manner, The Slave took a moment to back away from the Padawan, and strike out at the people surrounding him; the first of his targets being the medic. Perhaps it was cruel, but enacting Sith brand justice on the support of the team guaranteed that even a glancing blow was that much more severe for everyone else on the team. So it would be when this medic was met with a downwards vertical strike from the massive blade; The Slave’s ever cloaked form giving no inclination where the strike would come from, nor where he was, only that the ghost of judgement had come.

Dusaro would too witness this, but not as his teammate being assaulted, but as the squad he once knew being overcome by demons; possessed and indoctrinated. Each twisted, malformed, and grew two fold before crying out in a pain filled hate, massive blobs of gore and tentacles with no discernable eyes or mouths. Yet something else seemed to overtake their familiar presence in The Force, the dark side aura that wafted off The Slave seemed to shroud each of them.

To him, they were unfamiliar monsters that held no quarter for him. They were a danger, perhaps even the source of the biological threat he was soon to face. His only solution was to cut them down where they stood...

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Location: The Capital City
Objective: Help liberate Mirial....and don't die
Allies: [member="Europa Draav"] | SJO in area
Enemies: [member="Dante Sotari"] |[member="Morgan Vance"] | The Sith Empire
Gear: {In Sig) Shield | {In Sig) Dagger | Lightsaber | A180 Blaster

The blue saber pointed forward towards [member="Lord Ghoul"] for a strike, but at the last moment, Stephanie twisted her body to spin in the air, turn her orientation around and land beside a bank of thin ventilation pipes feeding into a building. She covered her face with the shield and sliced them across, cutting the pipes open and releasing a spew of hot steam up towards the Sith.

It wasn’t an attack; it was to by the other Jedi time in attacking and serving as a distraction. But, for now, Stephanie had to keep moving.

”Get moving Miss Swail, we’re headin’ your way!”

Stephanie looked up to the darker skies, small embers and hints of smoke blowing across the breeze, mixed between the fighters and blasts shooting back and forth. She broke into a run deeper into the city, through the streets to get to a space where her transport could hover. It took less than 30 seconds for her to enter a small plaza and the Ranger drop-ship swooped in low to hover above ground.

The Ranger was stood, helmet off, grinning with her hand out.

”Need a ride?”

Without hesitation, Stephanie grabbed the extended arm and hoisted herself up. She hadn’t even gripped the hand rail for stability before the ship was up and away again with a whine of engines.

”The fighters are reporting a cannon of some sort if operational and can knock out our air support, or at least make it impossible to land, so we gotta go try take it down and a Jedi is just what we need!”

Stephanie could see the battle for Mirial in full swing around and beyond the capital city. Her head lowered, eyes closed. The price of war was high; but if the Jedi didn’t act now to keep the Sith horde back, they would crawl out and enslave the whole galaxy just as they had done with Mirial and wanted to do to the border of Silver space.

Then, her head snapped up, concern in her eyes.

”Turn around. Drop me here.”

The Ranger looked confused. ”What? We need you, the cannon…”

”You can take the cannon as a unit together – you are strong enough and have the air support. Blow that thing to hell and keep in contact! Hover here!”

With a nod, the Ranger turned and hit the pilot on the shoulder twice. The transport banked and came down over a row of buildings. Stephanie was up and hanging from the side.

”There is an aura down there in pain; one of our own is close to death,” she said, scouting the city below.

”May the Force be with us,” she grinned at her Jedi friend.

Stephanie nodded and let go, dropping to the slate building roof. She slid down and dropped over the lip, out of sight. The Ranger took the ship back up to head to do what they could to the weapon now in play with their air support.

A couple of bodies lay in the street – one a rotting corpse, one a Mirilian. Stephanie held her shield up, hearing the disorientating noises all around and the stench of burning metal and rotten flesh. She wrinkled her nose.

A deathly howl came from inside one of the buildings.

More TIE fighters could be heard in the skies with their screaming engines.

One boot slowly crossed in front of the other as she walked, eyes peeled on either side, the grit crunching underneath. To her left, a grinding of metal and crumble of stone caught her attention and she span, lightsaber igniting to cast a blue hue over the murky street. She stared with intensity at the building with a door hanging off its hinges.

A familiar green-skinned Mirilian came into view, and she let out a sigh of relief. Thank the Force she had been found.

”Miss Draav? You’re safe now, if you remember me? I’m Stephanie Swail…from…”

Europa wasn’t well. She didn't look normal. Something wasn’t right.

The look in her eyes was one of the walking dead, and she was heading straight for her.

 

[Kaalia Pavanos]

Location: Capitol building, Mirial
Objective: Show Sith supremacy
Allies: TSE and its allies
Enemies: SJO and its allies | [member="Jairdain"]
Gear: Mirari, Cruentis Cor, Valkyries founders' armor

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The moment Jairdain was taken off her feet by the blast Avacyn cast a split-second glance sideways as she saw the group approach. They had noticed the fighting no doubt and moved to provide backup to their ally, forcing her to act quickly. They did not look like Jedi, but she knew there was strength in numbers- battling them on her own was not only paired with risk, it was also unnecessary to do so. Through her comm the woman had already taken note of the reinforcements that were on their way and once they were here the numbers advantage could be nullified. That was for later however. Now was not the time to stand still and so the thought process that all took place while Jairdain was still on her crash course with the wall was broken off, watching as she collided with the wall and slumped to the floor. The battle was over, but she knew all too well that if the Knight were to live she had the potential to become much more powerful in time, perhaps rivalling or even surpassing herself. Although she had not wished to have to do it, she knew that Jairdain's death would be to the benefit of the Empire. It simply was a grim necessity, despite the fact she had taken a liking to her.

The redhead walking forward towards the other woman as she drew upon the Force, calling Mirari back to her hand from the ground and igniting it while she approached. She would not take pleasure from this, but it was necessary in her mind.

It is the way it is.​

​

And then, blaster fire.

The group of Silver Jedi forces had moved quicker than Avacyn had expected and had directed their fire towards her, causing her to quickly pivot her body to deflect the bolts with her lightsabers. Jairdain would live to see another day, although it did not frustrate her like it may have others. She quickly tumbled to the side behind the cover of another building and kicked down the door before entering. Through her comm she shared her coordinates with anyone who was able to provide backup while she made her way towards the roof, looking to buy time.

 

[Roona Osmari]

Location: Mirial - Garrison
Allies: SJO - [member="Valkren Calderon"]
Opposition: TSE - [member="Darth Saarai"] , [member="Tabigarashu Madara"]

Still perched on the rooftop, Roona had full view of the streets below. If she peered over the edge, she could scarcely make out Clark on the balcony a few stories down. Sinking down for a moment, she took a knee. As the Raiders began to advance, she would do her best to provide them with cover fire. And she could hear Clark firing off rounds to help protect their comrades as well.

Pressing her eye to the scope of her rifle, she honed in on Colonel Calderon for a moment. He was already on the move. Her gaze scanned the Colonel’s surroundings quickly, attempting to locate any threats lurking around their commanding officer. As enemy soldiers crept along the street, sticking close to the buildings, Roona drew in a deep breath and began to fire.

As the Sith soldiers continued to put up a fight, Roona did her best to take out targets within their tight groups. All of the sudden, bodies would slump and slow their advance. However, it seemed that these enemies were not easily fazed. The Ysannan’s expression was solemn beneath her helmet, taking the lives of enemy soldiers was a grim task. It never got easier. But these thoughts were not allowed to linger, for she needed a clear mind to do her job.

It wasn’t long before the hostile soldiers discovered her position, and sent fire up her way. Forced to duck back down, Roona dropped below the ledge. Enemy fire followed, chipping bits of the building away at her side. The Sergeant pushed out a slow breath. That was quite close.

“Clark – check in,” She said, her voice finding its way to her fellow Raider.

“Still here, Echo.” He replied, and then went silent again as he concentrated on his duty.

And as the voice of Colonel Calderon came through, she began to crawl along the rooftop for a new position. Her reply to the Colonel was quite short and spoken with clarity.

“Alive and well, sir.” Peeking over the ledge, she could see that the teams would soon be past her current spot. “We will join you on the ground shortly.”

 

[Ellie Mors]

Monsters

Mirial

Allies: The Sith Empire, [member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="The Slave"], [member="Aria Vale"], [member="Lark"], [member="Enyo Typhos"], [member="Calina Ovmar"], [member="Taeli Raaf"], [member="Kor Vexen"], [member="Morgan Vance"], [member="Dante Sotari"], [member="Vitor Avendahl"], [member="Vereshin"], [member="Jartris Entumaa"], [member="Atlas Kane"], [member="Kyrel Ren"], [member="Lord Ghoul"], [member="Vaylin"], [member="Kaalia Voldaren"], [member="Anora Demici"]
Enemies: The Silver Jedi Order, [member="Arisa Yune"], [member="Valkren Calderon"], [member="Roona Osmari"], [member=Sky'ito Yumi], [member="Stephanie Swail"], [member=Marek S'hadar], [member="Jairdain"], [member="Yuroic Xeraic"], [member="Europa Draav"], [member="Liuna Ondizi"], [member="Kaiza Pawaro"], [member="Lara Fairfax"], [member="Natassia Traxen"], [member="Dusaro Dresari"], [member="Jake Daniels"], [member="Kiriko"], [member="Cathbodua"], [member="Setzi Lunelle"], [member="Madeline Roux"]
Objective: End this silly game
Location: Capital of Mirial
Equipment: Armor of Aneshe, Lightsaber

There was an inherent absurdity to this incursion, to the degree of mismanagement that had occurred on the end of the Jedi that assaulted their world. And yet, even with the air of surprise, with every last opportunity for a decisive domination and chance for an unexpected shifting tide laid out before them like an open book, the Silvers still made their blunder time after time - destroying whatever curtain of stealth that they had arrived behind through their actions during the initial strike, and by allowing a madman to assault the capital of the very world they were trying so desperately to win over as soldiers of light. Despite their shortcomings, and despite the amount of setbacks they had beset upon themselves, the Jedi were still a threat that needed to be dealt with - dealt with as Aneshe had dealt with the stirrings of rebellion in the capital, dealt with as she would deal with their friends and loved ones when the Empire undoubtedly struck back.

There would be death, yes; but, first, first there would be fear.

It was no secret that the world of Mirial had been marred by the acts of a madman, that the undead had risen over its ruined crust, and that the fear of those that remained permeated every last structure and ingrained itself into the soul of the world itself - weeping, crying, for a liberation from its charge. She couldn't have blamed the Jedi for seeing this as a reason to strike - the Empire were Sith, and they were Jedi, it was the natural order of things - but she would still blame them for the naivete that they had beholden themselves to when they so arrogantly dismissed that this very darkness could be harnessed against them as a tangible threat. Perhaps it was ignorance - willful or otherwise - which led this small incursion group into the fray without proper preparation, but it was a mistake that would cost them dearly.

She would have to remind herself to thank the Ren for interrupting what would have been a waste of time - to stoop so low as to devote her time slaughtering two Jedi rather than deal a crushing blow to the morale of their entire invading force. Without a proper foe to distract her, without a clear leader to target, and with the enemy forces kept so far apart from their original insertion point, Aneshe - Ananta as she had requested the Sith refer to her as - was free to channel these darker energies, to dominate the will of the departed and master the fears of those still in a panic over this skirmish, and end this pointless charade before it bloviated further. She had heard of Carnifex's request for reinforcements but she would not be returning to his side for the remainder of this fight - instead the power of the dark side was commanded to her very core, whispers of the deceased Mirialans flooding her mind to plea with the ancient Sith lord that she release them from their imprisonment.

Aloud she laughed, at the prospect of allowing such a reservoir of power be wasted and doubly so at the idea that she would deign herself to converse with inferior beings that had met the cold grip of death that she, herself, would have awarded them with twice over. She ignored the cries and focused instead on their pain, their suffering, and all of the despair that lingered over the world of Mirial - begotten both by the living and the dead - as she prepared to unleash the darkness that built up within her. It would take time, certainly, but this was no act of stealth - the act that twisted the hopelessness and despair, the anger and the hate, not only left its mark on her own soul but also made its presence known to any capable of discerning the dark side of the force from the light, her own presence in the force, dark as it was, overshadowed by the concentration of the dark side around her - already so high that it manifested as a nearly palpable mist around her to the naked eye.

 

[Darth Caecus]

Meanwhile on Kol Huro.....​

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Tales of Kol Huro​

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She paused, for only the briefest of moments. A half a heartbeat, less. Not even a single tick of a metronome. Turning her head slightly toward him, but not looking at him for just a tiny slice of time.

And then she turned back to what she was doing. Almost every item in the pack was shed. Every superfluous gram of weight, left behind. If it was not critical it had no place with her. Every thing must serve a need.

And [member="Luca Thorne"]?

She frowned.

It didn't matter.

Whether he came or stayed didn't matter.

She cut, and then cut again, eyes and hands working as scalpels, removing anything that could hold her back. And not once did she attempt to slice that decision. Not once did she try to leave him behind with the pile of discarded tools. In the end, she didn't even need the pack. Everything she needed fit into utility pouches on her belt or to a bandoleer she slung across her chest. She could have followed his direction, his order, without any of this, yes. But efficiency was bred into the very genetics of the clone, and she was not a rabid beast. He wanted them to bleed, and the best way to do that was not by tooth and nail.

But by knife and blade.

"Darth Caecus, you will serve me and the Empire in all things, you will ensure the survival and continual expansion of this great Imperium. When the enemies of Order rear their heads, you will work tirelessly to ensure their destruction as an arbiter of my wrath."

From the outside, the change would be strange. The fall from careful control, killing only was need demanded. Avoiding it when possible, but not shying from it when necessary. Into.....

"Let's go," she said, her voice quiet though nothing resembling soft.

The conditioning didn't merely force her to do what Carnifex demanded. It made it her own will. It made her want to accomplish it. Perhaps not for the act itself, but for the completion of the order.

In a way, it was the first thing she had wanted since deciding to leave her creator.

The fact that it was a false desire, settled upon her by a casually, unintentional order?

That didn't matter.

There was a set to her shoulders, the corners of her eyes as they moved, quitting the tower and heading toward their ship. It was drive. It was steps galvanized and intent in a way that the usually laconic woman had not before exhibited. An air of energy.

Make them bleed.

She intended to.

[Exit: Stage Left]​

 

[Darth Ophidia]

MIRIAL – Pantera Class Stealth Frigate.
Sneaking about.

A minute passed by quickly, then another, and a half. The kicking subsided to a collection of mild muscle spasms. Ophidia released her carefully and checked the pulse: It was still there. Re-positioning herself, the Sith Lord studied the woman’s features closely. She constructed an illusion around herself based on the woman’s form: Her pale hair and defined jaw; the light eyebrows and green eyes, pink lips. She ran a thumb over the lips carefully as she wrapped her right hand under her chin. The right hand covered the unconscious woman’s eyes.

And just as she was beginning to draw air once more. Ophidia gave the head a violent jerk to the side. A crackle of dislodged vertebrae told her the woman would not wake. The sensation of the taken life rode up through her spine in a shiver and dispersed through her body in a surge of delight.

She stood and quickly undid the stained EVA suit, making sure she brought with her anything she had packed. Ophidia turned it inside out and zipped it to contain the stench. She rummaged through the woman’s pockets and took with her key-fobs and access papers before dropping the corpse down the chute and stashing the EVA suit in one of the bins.

The Assassin checked her surroundings one last time, knowing full well that someone could come by any second. She focused on the illusion – Made through manipulation of optics rather than mentalism – turned off the water in the sink, and moved on out at a brisk, but comfortable pace.

It did not take long, however, before- “Ensign Karstad! Where do you think you’re going?” Feth.

She said nothing and quickly rounded the corner to break eye contact. She heard footsteps following. The moment she rounded the corner, she flattened herself against the wall, switched on her stealth field generator and dropped the illusion. She had better focus on not being seen at all.

“Karstad?”

Too bad really.

The Tsaisibola leapt from her foot and injected its venom into the lieutenant’s leg. Before he could scream, Ophidia put her hands over his mouth from behind and pulled him close.

Too bad.

[member="Arisa Yune"] (Tag for ships. I am sure some disappearances will be noted).

 

[Arage Bao]

Meanwhile on Kol Huro.....​

​

Tales of Kol Huro​

Scene 1​

Scene 1.2​

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Scene 3​

Scene 3.2​

Scene 3.3​

Scene 3.4​

Scene 3.5​

​

The change was noticeable and Thorne knew that something was not right here.

What was that?

Beyond him, but it was not his job to try and figure every little thing out. His job was to have her back and make sure she didn't kill herself while doing... whatever she was going to do. The last thing Luca needed was for Caecus to try and break him, because Kith decided the best course of action here was to go on a roaring rampage of destruction. It was strange that Kith didn't even bother to make contact with Caecus, before making this decision.

Then again.

Make them bleed.

A more direct order from the Dark Lord could not be imagined. He watched her work from subtle glances every once in a while, watched her take away this tool or that, observed how she shed every single item and object that was not strictly necessary. It was no wonder that Kith went to work immediately.

Better to say sorry than to ask permission and all.

Minutes later - such a short time for such a large decision - she spoke and Luca nodded. "Yup." Part of him though that this was a larger decision than he currently realized.

That this would have consequences.

But was there really any other option for him left now? They walked and Luca wondered if he could change her mind, but another brief glance towards her expression told him better. Her mind was set, purpose clear and there was something... in her stride. It was purpose mixed with bubbling energy and it spoke of joy.

Strange, that.

They disappeared into the ship - him to the cockpit, her to her quarters for one reason or another.

Time to get to business.

[Exit: Stage Left]​

 

[Tabigarashu Madara]

Location: Mirial, Capital, at the Barricade (Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men.)
Objective: ::insert shrug emoji::
Allies: [member="Darth Saarai"], [member="Vereshin"], TSE
Enemies: [member="Roona Osmari"], [member="Valkren Calderon"], SJO

The two nezumi chattered in their own language as the too bigs interacted. The nezumi language was not limited to the linguistics, but relied heavily on expression, posture and tone. Half of the conversation was body language, and the two creatures bounced up and down on their hind legs, clearly sharing the exciting and hair raising stories of their escapes with each other. Tiba even flapped her arms at one point, prompting Hirou to jump up and scamper back and forth across Lord Fa's shoulder before (barely) settling back down again.

Hirou's ears flicked to the side when he addressed them again, looking up at the Sith Lord inquisitively.

The two nezumi glanced at each other for a moment, only a word or two of otherwise incomprehensible jabber passing between them before Hirou turned, curling their paws onto their hips.

"Tiba will go with Vereshin," Hirou said stoutly. She nodded in agreement.

"But I am coming with you. You might need me."

Which, of course, was ridiculous. But not as far as Hirou was concerned.

 

[Kaiza Pawaro]

Location: Mirial, Capital city
Allies: [member="Liuna Ondizi"]
Enemies: [member="Jartris Entumaa"]
Equipment

Spoiler

• Battle Armour
• Defender of the Light

“If what you say is true, then there is no reason for you to worry. Stay still for a minute.”

The man knew exactly what he was doing – the way he actively avoided being surrounded further reinforced Kaiza’s suspicions. Of course, while there was a slight possibility of him being a civilian, the Mirialan Jedi refused to believe one of their race would defend the Sith so fiercely and resist the Silver Jedi with such passion. It remained impossible to accept; that after suffering more than ever before under the hands of Sith and dark side practitioners, any Mirial native would ever voluntarily ally with the Sith butchers.

Everything pointed towards this strange man's identity being Sith or dark side cultist – or a quisling, one of those who have sold out their own race for a bit of comfort. The latter seemed unlikely though. For a traitor confronted by a Jedi and one angry soldier, the man had way too much spine and bark in him, utterly devoid of fear.

“You know,” smiled the young woman, raising her eyebrows, “You’re trying way too hard."

When his comlink went off, she simply gave him a hard stare, offering no comment.

Kaiza approached fast, without warning – weapon still in hand, albeit lowered and not attacking. Striking the seemingly unarmed man down would be a gross violation of the Jedi code and her personal beliefs, yet there was the need to eliminate the threat he posed. Her empty gauntlet went for his utility belt, searching for nothing else than the characteristic hilt associated with Sith and Jedi alike.

 

[Lina Renning]

LOCATION: Sketchy Lab, Mirial Slums
OBJECTIVE: *Flailing noises*
ALLIES: [member="Madeline Roux"] | The Silver Jedi Order
ENEMIES: [member="Calina Ovmar"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | The Sith Empire

Patients?
The word hung in the air, ominous.

You should never have come here...​

​

If only it were alone in that.

She followed fearfully, trying to think. Concentrate. There had to be a way out. A way to get herself and Maddie out of here without hurting anything. Because Lina didn't know what came next but she was very, very sure she wouldn't like it.

But soon, she had an inkling - as soon, in fact, as panicked blue eyes caught sight of the caged undead. Naturally, the Jedi had no experience with zombies, but she would have been a fool to miss how the presence of the light frenzied these creatures all the sudden, and it set the anxiety of waiting into the marrow of every bone.

The door was locked.

This facility, my facility, is dedicated to the research and development of a cure for the undead virus here.

A . . . a cure. That wasn't- it didn't add up. They were here to liberate. Not to disrupt the search for a cure. Lina's experience with Sith was few but it hadn't taught her to prepare for this.

She stared at Calina, at the undead, at Maddie.
What was she doing here?

You need to correct this mistake.

You need to correct this mistake.
You need to correct this mistake.

They had fethed up. No- the blame wasn't shared here. Lina had gotten this all wrong, gotten everything all horribly wrong. She had brought Maddie to Mirial. Without any of that they wouldn't be here and they couldn't have made the mistake of disrupting where they should have rescued. Her mind didn't need any help in fixing the fault squarely over her shoulders, and the guilt was heavier than she could have guessed.

She could fight and try to make a break for it, or she could shoulder the danger. Her safety - maybe her life - or her morals. Lina was an incredibly principled girl with a strong, strong sense of good, but cowardice was the one selfishness she allowed herself. She wasn't important enough to be a martyr - she would always do more good in living than in dying. And (and really, this was the root of it no matter what morals she used as a scapegoat) Lina was afraid of suffering like that.

All the sudden, memories drew from her mind.
The first moment of peace she'd had with Maddie, where they'd sat and just talked for hours.​

Meeting Kana, finding comfort in someone to help, her first lessons as a Jedi.​

The first time she'd saved a life.​

​

And then unseen fingers reached out and caught hold of them and twisted them over, showing the side of the coin where the light of golden memories couldn't shine.​

​

No, no.​

It hadn't been that way.​

It hadn't been that way.
It couldn't.​

​

My. . .
My name is Lina Renning. . .
I'm. . .I'm a. . .I'm a. . .

NO. THIS IS MY HEAD.

My name is Lina Renning. I'm a Jedi. This is my head.​

​

"I'm. . .we're doctors," Lina said lowly - a struggle to remind herself, to convince herself before the voices dragged it from her altogether. "We're healers. We- we can help fix this."

You never should have come here...​

But oh, the voices were so right.​

 

[Subject 37]

Capital City - Nuroo Skyscraper
Allies: SJO
Enemies: TSE, [member="Anora Demici"]


Blaster fire began to rain down on where he stood, hailing against stone and striking the street.

He felt a jolt of pain as something stabbed into his side, a piece of shrapnel that had bounced off from the ground and struck him in his armored abdomen. He scowled and dropped down, ducking behind a low rock wall as more blaster fire rushed down onto him. The Captain let out a muted curse, swiveling his head slightly to see if there was anywhere he could go. The amount of fire that poured down on him was more than enough to keep him pinned but...

Jorg frowned for a moment, rolling down onto his stomach and shifting so that he was hidden from view.

There was a pause as something struck the rock wall.

Stone and dust peppered him, the assault armor keeping him safe from the wave of shock that rushed out from the explosive round striking. Jorg let out another curse, then pressed his needle disruptor against the stone wall. He shook his head for a moment, approximating where he had seen the soldiers earlier stand. "Here goes nothing."

He said to himself as he pulled the trigger of the disruptor.

It wasn't exactly an precision way of firing the weapon, but the Needle Disruptor could easily make its way through the stone wall and then strike the enemy soldier. He was firing blind of course, but his hope was simply to create fear and panic long enough to allow his allies to arrive.

 

[Dante Sotari]

Location: Mirial, Northern Reaches, Orbital Cannon
Allies: [member="Morgan Vance"], TSE
Enemies: The Silver Jedi ([member="Arisa Yune"] [member="Stephanie Swail"])

She came skidding around the corner, hanging onto the edge to sling shot her around. She took it all in, not even stopping her momentum in the slightest.

The door, just closing, emergency lights flashing red. The last slice of pure light coming in, reflected off the snow. Illuminating the crimson reflection of the blood on the floor before giving all of the corridor over to it. Morgan, on the floor, curled in on himself.

Dante dropped, the momentum of her run letting her slide across the floor on her knees right up to him.

With the blast doors closed, locked, and the control room left behind, they were blind.

She didn't care.

"Morgan, chit, Morgan? Hey, hey listen to me, hey Mor."

Her hands went to his face first, a certain relief flooding through when he opened his eyes.

"Hey, I gotchu."

It was a lot of blood, she realized with a dawning cold knot growing in her stomach.

One hand was seeking, gently, slowly, to find where he'd been hit. It was dark, the emergency lights not made for offering more than just the dark wetness slowly spreading. Her other hand went digging into the small medkit on her belt.

"Liquid hate and *glue*," she muttered, trying to joke but voice falling flat. "Bacta and battle field glue- you would think that with the technological advances, they'd have something better, but..... hey, Morgan, talk to me, you got this and I've got you, okay? I gotchu. Just hang on. Can you stand? We need to get away from the doors- Morgan, hey, focus on my face, okay? You're gonna be okay."

 

[Ellie Mors]

Monsters

Mirial

Allies: The Sith Empire, [member="Darth Carnifex"], [member="The Slave"], [member="Aria Vale"], [member="Lark"], [member="Enyo Typhos"], [member="Calina Ovmar"], [member="Taeli Raaf"], [member="Kor Vexen"], [member="Morgan Vance"], [member="Dante Sotari"], [member="Vitor Avendahl"], [member="Vereshin"], [member="Jartris Entumaa"], [member="Atlas Kane"], [member="Kyrel Ren"], [member="Lord Ghoul"], [member="Vaylin"], [member="Kaalia Voldaren"], [member="Anora Demici"]
Enemies: The Silver Jedi Order, [member="Arisa Yune"], [member="Valkren Calderon"], [member="Roona Osmari"], [member=Sky'ito Yumi], [member="Stephanie Swail"], [member=Marek S'hadar], [member="Jairdain"], [member="Yuroic Xeraic"], [member="Europa Draav"], [member="Liuna Ondizi"], [member="Kaiza Pawaro"], [member="Lara Fairfax"], [member="Natassia Traxen"], [member="Dusaro Dresari"], [member="Jake Daniels"], [member="Kiriko"], [member="Cathbodua"], [member="Setzi Lunelle"], [member="Madeline Roux"]
Objective: End this silly game
Location: Capital of Mirial
Equipment: Armor of Aneshe, Lightsaber

The whispers, the pleading cries, that had murmured in her mind escelated to screams of desperation and torment as the veil that enshrouded her billowed forth like smoke from the mouth of something far larger and more sinister than a being of her size and stature ought to be. The climb she experienced, as the visible waves of darkness seeped out from the earth as blood pouring from a wound, was indescribable in it's ecstasy. The realization that not only were the dead tormented before they could achieve eternal rest, the living would be subjected to a sensation of despair and hopelessness surpassed only by the smothering of the light side of the force that these dark waves would bring.

It was unfortunate that the light of morning star had not yet risen, so that the Jedi would see the darkness before succumbing to it, but it was an inconsequential preference. By now there was little doubt in her mind that some of the more capable Jedi and certainly the Sith Lords present would have an inkling of an idea of what it was that was happening. And then, just as she finished reigning in the misery of the world within herself and all around her, now cloaked in the shadows of pain as though it were the night itself that snuffed out the light, all at once she expelled the miasma that had previously been seeped into the crust of Mirial like a hurricane.

Rising high into the night sky like a tendril of the will of the world itself, the darkness quickly became a raging storm that expanded in every direction across the capital. Every street, every building, and even the sewers beneath were smothered by a wall of black that both felt like and in actuality was the dark side of the force made palpable. The roaring of it's might was deafening, shrill screams of despair and the sensations of hopelessness filling the minds of those unfortunate enough to have attempted this charade of a battle. The very presence of the light side of the force wavered as the dark waves flooded the city, inviting fear into the hearts of those unable to handle the might of the sith magic that spurred it on.

Standing at the center of this veritable storm was Darth Ananta, the features of her face distorting with every moment that passed. Her veins bulged and darkened, skin drying and cracking at her lips -
blood drawn where her flesh split. But that pain did not deter her, instead fueling the inferno of hatred within her to continue this assault on the minds and morale of all Jedi and theirs allies, perhaps even the Sith that lacked the knowledge to protect themselves from this assault. Already she could feel the resignation in the hearts and minds of rebels that had decided the Jedi we're better masters for their cause, and she knew that those who sought out freedom to practice their cult of death would collapse like a deck of cards when faced with one that could, and would, deliver them to the faceless master they vowed to serve and sacrifice the innocent to. Yes, she could feel it all and it was electrifying, like the afterglow obtained only by ripping a civilization apart at the seams - and it served as a reminder of the vengeance that had born her into this incarnation, of the ultimate goal that had set her on this path.