Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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

Kaiza Pawaro

Do, or do not. There is no try.
Location: Mirial, Capital city
Allies: [member="Liuna Ondizi"]
Enemies: [member="Jartris Entumaa"]
Equipment


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“I’m with you, Liuna. Right here, right here… Stay with me… stay with me, please. ” The younger Mirialan gasped between sobs of despair, still very much feeling the oppressive darkness choking her thoughts and strangling the light side of the Force. Despite trying to push through the heavy fog of pure horror, Kaiza trembled like a terrified child; Liuna presented the only fellow soul that stood beside her in this uneven war against a physical manifestation of darkness. The yellow-skinned Padawan was fraught with anxiety of losing her sister in arms and being abandoned, alone and left to be feasted upon alive by the dark side. More hot tears crossed Kaiza’s face as she pulled Liuna closer in a hug so tight it bordered on obsession.

“I need you!”

Just the two of them, surrounded by unspeakable evil and death. The whole world ceased to exist for Kaiza; it all boiled down to the Mirialan duo and the light side artifact that gave them hope. Enough to preserve their sanity and life, although by no means sufficient to spare the women the despair-inducing effects these evil waves carried. Fear kept telling Kaiza to run away, leave her fellow Mirialan, alas that only prompted her to clutch the green-toned rebel tighter. Time no longer had any meaning – minutes or hours, none could say, although it most certainly felt like an eternity to the teenage Padawan.

The dark dream slowly retreated back into the realm of nightmares and Kaiza’s mind could touch the light freely again. Those were careful first steps, subtly touching the Force with her mind, afraid another phantom awaited hidden in the dark. Once she recognized no danger though, the Padawan gave into it, fully exposed to the Force. It was just like drawing breath after nearly losing consciousness to suffocation; infinitely refreshing, liberating, and bringing her back to life. Nevertheless, it took more bravery than Kaiza had at disposal to open the eyes. Her grip around Liuna's body remained unchanged.

“Is it over?” she whispered, “I can’t look. Please, don’t make me look.”
 
…Meanwhile on Kol Huro
[SIZE=9pt]Tales of Kol Huro[/SIZE]​
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Yes, bloody Mirial.

Filiae turned the cup between her fingers with frustration while staring out into the emptiness of space.

I know the High Inquisitor is there, so is the Dark Lord.

She froze, fingers stiffening around the metal.

The Black Iron Fleet? That is good, but we need more. If the Silvers have the vohti to launch an attack, then they most certainly have backup to tackle the local levies. We need to field some serious guns if we are to ensure the security of Mirial.

She turned the cup down and slammed it into the table while standing up and turning around. Her metal hand lashed out in an accusing gesture as her eyes flared with deep red.

“No you listen to me Admiral! This is not just a fight for Mirial; this is a unprovoked attack on the entirety of our Empire, and our Emperor.” She drew a snarling breath, engines whirring in her throat. “‘The Empire united over all’, or have you forgotten that in your complacency? This is not the Dominion. Shape up, or step down.

She seized, eyes closing and arm falling to rest by her side.

Mobilise the fleets. Make ready to cut off any retreat. The Jedi will remember this day in regret.

Her eyes turned up at the Darr Itah: The Hand of Truth, as it hovered in the sky over Kol Huro, ready to launch. The com-unit in her cerebral enhancements made a subtle click as the call ended, and Darth Filiae looked at Claudi Dawne.

Is she ready?” “She is ripe, Inquisitor.” “Good.
 

Stephanie Swail

Look what they've done to my dream
Location: The Capital City
Objective: Help liberate Mirial....and save Europa…but 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
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6nhlSIPO6o&list=PLWKXJQUwVcfexiFdxZDrFGCx7RGbsuQUV&index=8
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With a smirk and a nod, Stephanie turned to run further away from the city centre - but came face to face with a dead end to her left.

Ok, the smirk vanished, but she was confident enough. Change direction! Head right - straight into a the smouldering wreck of a TIE fighter wedged between two collapsed towers.

Damn. Trapped.

Stephanie turned to break out, but the gruesome sight of a bloodied and feathered spitting Europa skidded into the only direct way out.

So this was it. This was where it ended. She reached around and pulled over the shield again, looping it on her left arm and she held it out, wedging her feet down firm.

”STOP! STOP, NOW!”

Her shout was affirmative yet a little feeble, and Europa seemed to stand still, edging forward slowly almost as if playing with her prey. Above them, explosions peppered the skies and blaster fire echoed through the streets over from where they had ended up. It was a world that had become a nightmare thanks to an un-dead virus and a Dark Side spell.

Stephanie shook her head and shunted forward. ”ST...STAY BACK!” Nothing.

And what of the Rangers? What if they had been blown up? What if she had acted without thinking...oh, god...what if she had sent them to their deaths? Her eyes wandered for a second, before returning to the figure of Europa getting closer with all her visible grime and gore fixed to her armour.

The Jedi stepped back. ”PLEASE!” Europa lurched towards her.

Her face stung with sadness, and she was...scared. She was afraid of dying here and failing the Order, failing Europa and failing herself. He eyes misted up, but she batted her eyes quickly to blot the tears away. This was it. A nobody who had done nothing.

She could see the soulless look in Europa's eyes as her hands curled, but then in the next few seconds she was knocked off her feet and disorientated in a whirl of debris and dust and a loud assault on her hearing.

From above, the Ranger gunship dropped out of the sky and hovered inches from the rooftops and feet from the Jedi and Mirilian. Two Rangers stood in the doorway of the ship with a mounted cannon pointed at the green-skinned zombie, and they fired with a loud zzzhup!

A bolt of blue energy shot forward with a black net unfurling behind it, like a claw, and shot right down towards Europa, snaring itself around her; clamping around her body with the mild stun energy zapping through the membrane as it dragged her to the ground in a rather un-dignified and brutal way.

Stephanie was facing down on the ground, her shield across the way, and clawed forward as the engines above kicked up the loose grit around them. She didn't know what was happening until she turned over to see the eyes of Europa glaring at her within the net, and the Rangers looking down as if this was just an ordianry day for them. She saw her Ranger captain in the co-pilot's chair.

”You didn't sound yourself Stephy, so thought you could use a hand more than the fleet bringing in the bombers to that cannon of yours,” came her voice through the com, and she could see her talking from where she lay, raising her hand in a salute.

With a feeble nod, and using her strength to sit up and push away form the gruesome sight and sound of Eurpoa, Stephanie huddled her legs up and clamped her arms around her knees and regulated her breathing.

She had led a Ranger unit into battle. She had helped pull Mirilian people away from danger. She had seen innocent people die and come up against Sith warriors face to face. She had touched the Dark Side. She had nearly died.

She was so alone. She missed her Master. She missed having a friend.

Stephanie bit her bottom lip and rested her head on her arms.

She would only allow herself a few seconds to cry; the horrors of war didn't accept tears from anyone.

Not even Jedi.
 
Location: Mirial Capital, sketchy lab
Objective: Fix unexpected complications
Allies: [member="Lina Renning"] | The Silver Jedi Order
Enemies: [member="Calina Ovmar"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | The Sith Empire

Madeline had never seen zombies, or anything undead.

She was used to seeing people die - unable to save the lives of some came with the territory of being a Healer, a sad fact that Madeline had been exposed to fairly early on.

Never had she seen anything like this.

Rotted flesh, pulling away from muscle and revealing bone - hanging limply as some stood there, others rushing forward and slamming into the bars, chains slamming and clanking. Vibrations were sent through the floor - faint but still able to be felt by Madeline, and though she tried not to look -it was absolutely terrifying to look at for too long- the changing of intensities in vibrations had her continuously looking back.

Her mind worried, wandered over all the possible ways this could have happened, how this could be fixed. She felt the worry roll of Lina in waves, crashing into her - seeping under her skin until it was nothing more than a constant bounce between worrying for her, and careful consideration of the zombies.

At least it drowned out the voices. They were still there - consuming parts of her brain that had her fearful, reminding her just how serious, how dangerous this situation truly was. She couldn’t - wouldn’t let them know though. There were so many lives at stake and she knew what she was signing up for when Lina had asked her to come along. It wasn’t Lina’s fault, this Madeline knew to be true. They had no idea just what the Sith had been doing, and while they had made a snap decision, jumping into battle without a clear understanding of what was going on, Madeline knew. She knew she may have to do things she normally wouldn’t and so with a shaky voice she looked over at Lina, hand reaching out to gently squeeze her forearm before stepping forward.

“Have you.. Have you trying any blood sampling tests? Blood transfusions with healing properties in them?”

It was a risky move, one that, while not offering her body up on a silver platter - was open enough to show that she was willing to donate some of her blood, if need be - to try.

They had to fix this somehow.
 
[SIZE=11pt]Location[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]: Mirial, Northern Reaches, Destroyed Orbital Cannon[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Allies[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]: [member="Morgan Vance"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Enemies[/SIZE][SIZE=9pt]: Everyone else[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Soundtrack: SYML - Fear of the Water[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]In the quiet, there was nothing to mark the time. Just the occasional skitter of falling rubble, a groan of durasteel threatening to finish the job but never actually following through. The sound of Morgan's heartbeat, slow but surprisingly steady. And the tap tap tap of Dante's thumb against the communicator button. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]*** -- -- -- ***[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her cheek rested on his forehead. Caked in dust, she held onto him tightly with her other hand. It shook, ever so slightly. Tears tracked down, leaving trails through the stone dust that powdered her skin. There was nothing to do now but wait. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She hated that.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Because she had nothing to do then but remember.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Target’s just passing my position, ETA to kill zone at current speed, two minutes, thirty five seconds. Ready to sing?"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Bea’s voice tickled my ear through the communicator bud. I smiled despite myself. He’d been the one to name my issued E-11 sniper rifle ‘Nightingale’ after our first mission together. He said you don’t hear the shot, just the song. He was just like that. He heard a certain poetry in the galaxy around us, a poetry that I was utterly deaf to.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"Name that tune," I sub vocalized, knowing that I didn’t have to speak aloud for him to hear me clearly.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Bea was my spotter. My support. He was the one who was trained to slice, to operate the long range sensor equipment, and (by mutual agreement after the first catastrophe involving me in the driver’s seat) pilot. He was also by far the more skilled at personal combat, and what meager skills I managed to pick up in the next few years due entirely to him. We didn’t set out to fall in love. I wasn’t even sure if I *liked* him when we first met. But you don’t need to necessarily like your spotter. He proved he was competent and trustworthy quickly, and we worked well together. Everything else just kind of happened.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"I don’t hear the song, Dani."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]I shifted slightly, frowning. The allotted time had passed- passed by more than thirty seconds, and still the target wasn’t in sight. The target… I didn’t know who it was. I never did. I never wanted to. Beyond the visual of who I was looking for, the identity didn’t matter. It wasn’t my problem. That was Bea’s playing field. He kept all of those details behind his dark eyes, away from everything else. Away from me. I didn’t ask. I never asked about a lot of things.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"No visual."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]I could hear the puzzlement in his voice when he replied a moment later. "Sensors have him on kill zone. Are you sure? You know who you-"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"I know who I’m looking for," I growled, shifting magnification and sweeping the square. I knew his face at least. That was all I needed. I’d remember his face forever, just like all of the others, even if I never knew his name.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]There was nothing, the square was completely empty. This time of night, even the darker denizens of the city were not lurking. There was only me, and Bea a kilometer away.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"There’s no one-"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]I screamed then I think, dropping to the roof hard with shots going off right beside my ear. The out of date sound of a chemical slug thrower at point blank range is deafening. I hadn’t sensed anyone nearby, hadn’t heard footsteps on the creaky rooftop. I was dead [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]–[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] had my instincts failed me so badly? It was the taste of blood in my mouth that made me realize that I was indeed very much alive. I[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]’[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]d smashed in to the corrugated durasteel of the roof face first, splitting my lip against the Nightingale[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]’[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]s scope. The taste of blood[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]…[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] and the sound of my husband[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]’[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]s voice, quiet but strained against the backdrop of the sleeping city. I couldn[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]’[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]t hear the voice of the person he was talking to, but his words would ring forever in my memory.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"No, I was working alone. There is no one else."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A gasp of pain punctuated his words, his breathing labored and bubbling over my ear piece. I should have said something. Anything so that he’d know that I was there with him. I should have said good-bye.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The familiar sound of his blaster carbine went off a fraction of a second before the slug thrower thundered back. A heavy thud sounded a long heartbeat later. I don’t know how long I lay there for, unmoving, waiting for some sign that what I’d feared the most hadn’t come to pass.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"I know who you are." An unfamiliar voice rasped over the communicator bud nestled in my ear. "And we are going to find you, and I am going to kill you like I killed your husband-"[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]I never heard what else he might have said. Reaching up, I ripped the earbud out convulsively. I was in shock, the taste of blood mingling with Bea's last words. Dawn found the rooftop empty. Two Commonwealth Spec Ops failed to make rendezvous that night.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]One was dead.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]One might as well have been.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]*** -- -- -- ***[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Dante was angry. At the galaxy. At whoever that man had been, whoever 'we' were. But mostly, she was angry at herself. For running. Her tears were hot and silent, holding all of the fury she had but not offering any real catharsis.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]​[/SIZE]"I've gotchu Morgan," [SIZE=11pt]she repeated, her voice low and fierce.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She hadn't run this time. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She just didn't know what that had gained her. [/SIZE]

"I gotchu."
 
Location: Capital of Mirial
Objectives: Do the Electric Slide
Allies: TSE | The Dark | War Fleet Black Iron
Enemies: SJO | The Light | [member="Arisa Yune"] | [member="Zark"]
Equipment:


[*]Shuk'orok
[*]Sith Lightsabers
[*]Scepter of Power

The two fleets clashed in fire and darkness, streaks of incandescent light spearing through the vacuum of space as shields crackled with energy and hulls detonated with the impact of well-struck hits. Lord Admiral Croscal watched from the bridge of the Vengeance for Empress Teta, the brilliant carnage of battle reflected in his brown eyes. He seemed wholly unperturbed that the Silver Jedi had elected to micro-jump on top of his own fleet, for War Fleet Black Iron was nearly double the size of the Silver fleet.

That could mean very little in the end, however, as fate was an often fickle mistress. The tides of battle could shift at a moment's notice, and turn blessed victory into dreaded defeat.

But he would not let doubt creep into his heart, nor would he let the men under him give themselves in to despair. The closeness of the two fleets was shocking, yes, and the fighting was brutally intense as both sides traded blow for blow in such a confined space. Turbolasers and hypervelocity railguns toting ferromagnetic slugs turned in conjunction as the star destroyers and smaller warships pivoted in the gravity-less environment of space to acquire their targets.

"Sir, we can't make heads or tails of all these readings. Our shots can't seem to make a hit on these frigates!"

"Pick up your visual scannings, they're trying to baffle us with false signatures. They used the same tactic in the initial engagement against our forces on Mirial, don't let these cravens make you for a fool. They can rely on their tricks for only so long."

The presence of the Alliance fleet further into the system was a curious one, for it had neither moved to reinforce the Silver battlegroups already engaged with the War Fleet nor had it followed through on its escape. Perhaps it was waiting to see which one proved victorious, or perhaps its commanders were still indecisive.

He's hasten their decision. "Open up a direct comm-link to the Alliance Fleet, I wish to speak to their commander."

If accepted, the transmission would read: "This is Lord Admiral Omarest Croscal of the Sith Armada, you are trespassing on sovereign Imperial space. This will be your last warning, leave the system with your dignity and honor intact or suffer the consequences of your intergalactic transgressions."
 
Location: Mirial Airspace
Objective: Finish the Fight, Cleanse Capital of Spooky Sith Magics
Allies: SJO, Mirialan Rebels/Separatists, Dominion Remnant

Opposition: TSE, Mirialan Death Cultists
Directly Engaging: [member="Darth Ananta"]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZsMtxomy28

About the same time that the heavily outnumbered Silver Destroyer Groups had intercepted the Sith Armada, Arisa's assault group finally arrived over Mirial. A flotilla of Meteor assault frigates under light starfighter escort. Immediately following reversion, they spread out across the globe, each frigate destined for the few remaining population centers on Mirial. Squadrons of planetary bombers and v-wing airspeeders - replacing the usual complement of Basilisk - streamed out of hangars as the frigates broke through the atmosphere.

Meanwhile, in Capital airspace, Arisa's frigate settled into position above the cover of nagnol clouds to help crews avoid the maddening influence of the Sith sorcery at play down within the city.

"Arisa to Setzi, I'm here now." she told her apprentice over encrypted comms routed through Kusanagi. "Beginning an assessment now."

Even from this high up, from Kusangi's hangar with a fresh Jedi strike team, Arisa could feel the literal and metaphysical shroud of blackness that now enveloped the city, its tainted aura leaving her with that familiar chill of the Dark Side. It began to gnaw at the edges of her consciousness, attempting to break her spirit like all its victims trapped within it corrupting embrace below. However, as she began to actively channel Lightside energies through her body, the darkness would quickly recoil, and the smothering sensation subsided.

Setzi's description of events didn't do this justice. It had been a good thing that she had come to Mirial instead of personally directing the Silver battlegroup. Right now, her comrades needed her more as a Jedi than as a commander.

Taking a knee, she drew deeper into the Force, entering a hyperaware state that would allow her to perceive the shatterpoints of this space. Cracks would begin to split outward all around her, stress points that could be exploited to topple entire structures with sometimes little more than a single tap with the Force.

She focused down into the city, zeroing in one particularly massive bloom of cracks that marked the epicenter of the storm of chaos and shadows. The disturbance appeared to originate from a single being, tendrils of darkness extending outward like a web to ensnare its unwilling victims and bend them to their will.

Target acquired.

"I have them," she told her peers. "There is only one thing to be done to thwart this attack, to beat back the shadows. A wall of light."

The Wall of Light, perhaps one of the most powerful techniques available to the Jedi. An immense manifestation of the Light Side of the Force that could cleanse an area of the strongest Dark Side magics, or completely strip a Dark Sider of their connection to the Force.

"Gather up in the transport, we need to act fast."

ZXDmlmR.png


A few minutes later, the Jedi had loaded up into a stealth dropship with Arisa, descending to the Captial airspace under dedicated escort by Fencer drones, the droid interceptors immune to all effects of mental attacks being flung by either side. They blared jammers to cover up the already miniscule signature of Arisa's dropship, engaging any enemy interceptors that came at them in the congested airspace.

The nimble Fencers, interconnected by Hydra, practically danced around the comparatively sluggish manned starfighters, quickly switching between individual fighters with multivector attacks moment to moment. When it appeared that each enemy interceptor may be engaging one or two Fencers, they were actually being corralled by the whole group at once, using tactics emulating wolves on the hunt, just so much faster.

Inside the dropship, Arisa was kneeling with her Jedi compatriots, joining together in channeling the Light Side. Any Force Sensitive observers nearby, they may have appeared like a bright star against the black backdrop of the Sith's disturbance.

Through her neural link, Arisa guided the dropship into a small orbit directly above Sith Lord's location. The Sith's ruinous aura was obviously strongest here, but by then Arisa and the other Jedi were completely cocooned with the warmth and safety of the lightside energies they now channeled within themselves, the Dark Side now only a faint muted echo to them all.

Together, they channeled ever greater amounts of energy until their bodies began to ache with the overabundance of power. As the strongest among them, Arisa carried the heaviest load, beginning to feel hot. While the Force may be unlimited, one's ability to wield it was not.

They had reached their limits. It was then that Arisa finally initiated the final step of the technique, guiding all the energy toward that shatterpoint she had picked out earlier, right at the heart of the Sith Lord behind all the mayhem currently unfolding.

A shaft of light materialized cutting through the black walls first as a single thin tendril but quickly expanding into a huge column that extended high into the sky.



3ztKsjy.gif


Arisa aimed to trap the Sith within this prison now being formed, robbing them of their power, and freeing minds of their victims from their poisonous clutches.
 
Location: Mirial
Objective: Mess with the Paddies
Allies: [member="Calina Ovmar"]
Enemies: [member="Lina Renning"] [member="Madeline Roux"]

Equipment: Mask Lightsaber

One of the girls was more interesting to her than the other, she decided. Even as the dark side roiled in the city, rituals done by the Dark Lord to drive the undead away and Waves of Darkness obscured the vision of all for a time before they retreated, she kept her attention on the minds and thoughts of these two Padawans. She had plucked their names from their minds, an unguardedness to them she found surprising. Madeline and Lina, such lovely names.

Madeline was trying to be the consummate professional, but even then, she could feel the shock and dismay coming from both Padawans. They had never encountered such things as undead before, or ever thought that the Sith might not always be the evil things lurking in the shadows, waiting to destroy all that the Jedi held dear. It had to be difficult, she mused to herself, to see your world view, your teachings challenged in such a way.

To Madeline, the voices would whisper in her mind...

So brave, so selfless... a true Jedi would do more... offer more... be more...

A Jedi would stay... A Jedi

To Lina, the girl that was far more interesting to her, the voices would rise in her mind again to whisper, to challenge...

Are you a Jedi? You are afraid... you value living over dying... you are selfish...

Jedi are not selfish... Jedi sacrifice... they do not fear death...

Are you a healer? You have brought further pain to this world... you have brought war... you allowed disease to enter safety...

Stay here... your place is here... among the living...

To both girls, unknown to them, a new spell would start to burrow into their minds, into their spirits. A tiny spell, one of her own invention, undetectable. A first step in recreating her experiment with Eldaah. She would need to get these girls one on one in time... but whether they stayed or fled with the rest of the Jedi... they would be Children in time.
 

Lord Ghoul

Guest
L
A sudden pillar of expanding light swallowed the city.

Inside the pillar, Ghoul screamed as the ray scorched through him, burning out the Dark Side. He fell to his knees, then flat on his face.

Around him, buildings erupted into flame from the catastrophic effects of the wall of light, burning civilian and Sith alike.
 
Location: Mirial | The Garrison
Objective: Make some mess.
Allies: The Sith Empire & Mirial. - [member="Tabigarashu Madara"]
Enemies: The Silver Jedi. - [member="Roona Osmari"] | [member="Valkren Calderon"]
Reacting To: [member="Arisa Yune"]

"That is odd-"

Lord Fa was interrupted in the middle of sentence to Hirou, because something happened.

It was a bright, burning light that pierced the windows and bathed him in gold, white. There was heat as the battle raged between the Sith Troopers and Rangers, they ignored it, but Lord Fa could not. Because that same light pierced him and left him... off. His power was not gone, because the Darkside had not yet corrupted him as it had his brothers and sisters, but weakened?

Certainly.

It would have ended there, with Tai fighting at only half-strength against the rangers, but that was when the calls came in. The intensity of Wall of Light was known to do more than take away a darksider's connection to the Force. At its full strength it was capable of setting fire to celestial bodies, scorching surfaces with its cleansing light.

This was not that, no, because it was localized firmly around Ananta.

But already the calls were coming in of places set on fire, civilians weak and afraid from the Waves of Darkness falling prey to the heat of the Wall of Light, suffering.

The Thirriken could almost feel it, even if he had not been listening on the comms at the same time. He increased his stake in the fight, twisting and vaulting over one ranger after another, trying to lure them into attacking him. Instead of the troopers... even at half strength, the Sith Lord knew that he had a far better chance of survival.

That would be used.

Because true strength? It forced you to take responsibility for your actions, forced you to choose.

Saarai would always choose discipline and order.

Always.
 

Tabigarashu Madara

Good things come in smol packages
Location: Mirial, Capital City, Garrison
Objective: It is the music of a people who are climbing toward the- OH GODS
Allies: ​[member="Darth Saarai"], TSE
Enemies: SJO

Hirou knew very little about the Force. About the Light side and the Dark side. Hirou only knew enough to be considerate of it- one is polite to powers that can destroy you with nothing more than a glance, sidelong and low. Say yours 'sirs' and 'madams', remove your goggles and stop fiddling with your tail, thank you very much. It always paid, in Hirou's opinion, to be courteous.

There was no courtesy in the wall of fire that flashed through the city.

Perhaps it had been worth it. Perhaps the needs of the few, of the Silver Jedi, outweighed the needs of the many.... the people who lived and worked and loved.... in the Capital.

The people who died in the Capital.

No one could say that there were any real heroes on Mirial that day. Sith defenders, Jedi aggressors. Certainly there were moments of it, highlighted in pockets of bravery and truth across the city and beyond. But they were few and far between. Hidden. Some in shadows.

Some blinded by light.

Hirou knew very little about the Force. But they knew about loyalty. About affection. And as the chatter started to flood in over the comms, fear and rage and confusion, they did the only thing that seemed right in that moment.

The Nezumi turned around and headed back through the shaft. Back toward Tai Fa.

Because that made sense when nothing else did.
 
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Location | Capital of Mirial
Objective | Brace
Company | [member="Samka Derith"]





Vexen would look at Samka as he awaited a response, his Lieutenant having prepped all the able body troops at his disposal for a push back against the Jedi. They would breach their defensive line and make to disrupt their point of landing and prevent their ability to safely transport additional troops to the battle. This would be the optimal time for them to strike after having received reinforcements. The Lieutenant would be preparing a recon squad to ensure their path was clear and would be an unhindered assault forward. Based off the comms traffic that he was receiving, the Sith Armada had finally arrived. Excellent. The Jedi's fleet would be crushed if they did not retreat, and the rats that remained would be hunted down and exterminated.

Vexen was pleased with the results of the battle thus far. The Jedi had their tails between their legs and faced the choice of retreat or annihilation. However, his mood would not last as there were panicked shouts. Vexen would turn away from Samka as he looked off into the distance. A massive pillar of light had arisen within the city as he muttered under his breath, turning his body to full face it with fists clenched, " Have they gone mad? Those savages would unleash such an attack on a civilian environment? Madness! " Vexen was not in the least bit concerned by the technique, having been fortunate to be outside its focus, however, the Mirialin people would obviously be panicked by the deceitful tone in which he used.

The pillar of light was not too far from his position, and it was obvious that it was not without consequence being in proximity to it. Infernos would burst to life, setting soldiers, civilians, and Sith aflame without discrimination. The voice of hundreds upon thousands screaming out in anguish as they were caught by the blazes. Truly it was a sight to behold, and an impressive display of power nonetheless. The skies fill with embers and smoke as homes burn. This was their last ditch effort to purge Mirial of the Sith, but it would not be enough to completely win them the battle.
tumblr_on66jsZEoc1w7x7wyo6_r1_400.gif
 
A pillar of light extended high into the sky. It expanded, seeking cleanse evil and purify the city, as the Jedi saw it. Alas, it would probably also cause collateral damage in one way or another. First there had been waves of darkness, now blasts of scalding light. Perhaps Jedi and Sith were trying to one-up each other. It sucked to be a Mirialan today. However, after all that had transpired on the planet, it would be rife with dark side energies. Thus a blast of cleansing light, even a very powerful one, could not purify that much.


Though she was not in the centre, Enyo was close enough to still be pierced by it. The light burnt her. Just as the hellfire Silver Jedi warships had rained down upon Korriban City. However, it was not the same.


The Wall of Light, a technique that required an absurd amount of focus and energy, was focused on Ananta. It would also not be at its full power level. But buildings would be ignited, natives would be burnt. Images of Korriban flashed through her mind as the Light touched her. But they did not frighten her anymore, for she had emerged stronger from the ruins of Korriban City.


She felt the blazing flames of the Light. They scorched her...but she endured. Because her true strength lay not in rage or dark sorcery. It lay in discipline, control and dispassionate ruthlessness. So she endured - and overcame and fought on.
 
[member="Lord Ghoul"]
Mercy is a Jedi's strength. Where Sith care only about their own power, sparing an opponent is a core fundamental of being a Jedi.
But does he deserve it?

She was torn as building burst into brilliant flames. She felt the light surge across the battle field, expelling the darkness, but she felt something else too. She was not as pure as she'd have the other believe, evidenced by the fact that her own skin began to burn and smoulder. Karren screamed, feet spread wide, blade pointed loose towards the dirt in her left hand.

Why? I am a Jedi, like those before me.
Or perhaps not.
Perhaps.....
A Darksider?


The debate within the woman raged until she raised both hands, gathering every ounce of her strength and energy in the force. Dark, light and in between. she mustered her rage, her fear of death, her hatred of the Darkside. She mustered her Serenity. Her memories of long days in waving grain fields as a Jedi youngling, under the rays of golden sunlight.

And then manifested it all. Blasting into existence a bubble of pure purple and blue around both her [member="Lord Ghoul"] and [member="Stephanie Swail"]

Mercy.

Teeth bared, gritting, and jaw tight she held the barrier. Protecting them both from the Light and the Dark. From the roiling flames and the chunks of building that came down like missiles from on high.

Mercy....
 

Lark

Saint of the Damned
Location: Mirial
Allies: TSE
Enemies: SJO, [member="Sky'ito Yumi"]
Objective: Don't die
OOC: Really sorry I wasn't able to post yesterday. Totally down to keep this going if you want Sky!

His elbow connected with the forehead of the Jedi with a satisfying thud, sending the young women stumbling back as if in a minor stupor. She recovered easily however, and reacted with a counterattack of her own aimed directly at his legs. Lark had noticed the waves of darkness that slowly expanded throughout the city, the light growing dim as if the sun was setting upon Mirial. He brought his sword up in an attempt to deflect the attack, but having to swing it around halfway across his body meant that he only caught part of the blow. The saber cut into a little bit of his leg before he pushed the blade back, the wound wasn't to bad but it was worth taking into account.

He took a quick step back to compose himself, taking unnecessary hits like this wasn't like him. If he had to take a hit, he'd be sure he could return the favor immediately. He wasn't thinking.

Fine then. He had noticed bits of dust and rubble on the rooftop, tiny bits of shrapnel that could be used as a weapon. Remembering an old trick that he used to land a blow on his Master, he prepared to use the invisible hands of the Force to push particles of dust and small rocks into the face of the Jedi. When they were blinded, he'd throw his dagger directly at their coughing figure.

Or at least, that was the plan before the radiant column of light devastated the city of Mirial. When Lark tried to use the Force, an embarrassing amount of nothing happened. "That's odd," he said. Did she somehow repress my powers? That was his initial thought, and then he felt the heat. They were near the outskirts of the city, but even from here he could see the apocalyptic hell that the Jedi unleashed on the place they so naively believed they were liberating. Lark could do nothing but laugh as the city burned. Not out of any delight he felt as the civilians turned into grey piles of ash, but because this proved his point. The Jedi were not peacekeepers. They were not saviors. They were not liberators.

They were slaughterers. They didn't care who they killed as long as the Sith died with it. "Do you intend to defend this as well?" Lark asked.
 
Capital City - Nuroo Skyscraper
Allies: SJO
Enemies: TSE, [member="Anora Demici"]

More fire rained down, and by now it signalled Nova two and Three exactly where to go to. The one advantage of their drop pods scattering them had been the fact there was no central landing point. There was no way of pinning them all down and there was no way any of them were coming from the same direction.

So while Jorg was being fired on from all sides and Nova 1 was slowly catching the same flak, two and three quickly came up to the right and center of the street.

All of them fellt into place at once, all of them wearing the same assault armor as Jorg. The hail of Blaster fire was enough to alert them to what was going on, and as soon as they identified the armor pings of the rest of Nova they began to fire directly at the attackers. It was erratic, far from pin-point, but meant to give Jorg an opening, one that was almost immediately closed as the soldier charged over the wall and bounded into place directly in front of him.

"What the Ka-" He found his words interrupted as the butt of a rifle was jutted into his face.

There was a loud crack as the back of the rifle meant his helmet, head instantly whipping back.

Another curse escaped Jorg, but his adrenaline began to pump faster and faster. He stumbled back, reaching up and trying to grab the mans rifle and keep it pinned in place. There was another sharp crack as the man smacked the side of his helmet with an elbow, but Jorg managed to grasp that too and drive his leg between the other mans. He pinned him in place, scowling and then reaching his head forward to smash the front of his helmet into the other mans.

The soldier recoiled slightly, but Jorg's grip increased.

His head went smashing into the other mans face again, and then again. For a second the Soldier looked daze, his grip on his rifle slackened, and then suddenly he lashed out once more. His hand fell from his rifle and formed into a fist, shooting towards Jorg's injured side. A panic struck the old soldier, his left hand sliding free and reaching out towards the man.

The Repulse glove within his palm burst into life, powerful nodes activating and suddenly bursting forward with energy. In an instant the mans armor, flesh, and muscle were torn away into pieces, pushed and ripped by the sheer force of artificial gravity. A scream raced from the mans helmet, and his grip finally slackened. Jorg took advantage, grappling the mans bloody stump of an arm and pulling him froward. His knee smashed into the mans stomach, then Jorg drew him down and smashed his face against the rock wall.

With a heavy thud the soldier fell to the floor.
 
Mirial, exploding with a Jedi.

Although the response moved as he expected, it was actually The Slave’s intention to put himself at somewhat of a disadvantage. In truth, he wanted the fight to be more even; not out of efficiency in killing Jedi, but to enjoy the drawn out combat as only a man raised in it could. His mind was coated in pleasure as the Padawan rolled backwards; only to be faintly interrupted as a flashbang went off.

His suit compensated, unfortunately for Dusaro; but The Slave knew it was nothing more than a distraction.

With a hand coming upwards, he pushed back at what he thought would be his lightsaber thrown at him for a follow up strike; only to be surprised that it was two explosive blocks. Although he pushed the blocks back towards Dusaro; it wasn’t something he had time to react to. The bombs went off, and The Slave had only managed to push the bombs half way between the two; not enough to maintain his position.

His only thought, to cover the exposed piece of burnt skin with his opposite hand. The suit’s internal inertial compensators would make up the rest of the protection as he was thrown asunder from his position; sword flying from his grasp and landing a few feet from him. His suit was able to withstand a few more hits than that, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling decently bruised from the explosion; standing next to a two pound explosive afterall.

Standing up, the pain of what happened finally hit him, glancing down to a few broken fingers on the same arm the lightsaber cut into. It’d be useless for the rest of the fight, most likely, but it was only the side effects of a growing battle; at least it meant he had a passive detriment instead of having to put himself in bad positions. With a sigh, he snapped a few back into a somewhat decent place and moved to pick up his sword; always maintaining sight on the padawan for any movement.

He hadn’t disappointed. It took a strong fighter to throw themselves in harms way like that to win. Even if he hadn’t won the fight, he earned a smidgen of respect from The Slave. All the while, the smoke and his own inexperience shrouded the massive pillar of light forming in the distance.

[member="Dusaro Dresari"]
 
"What kind of soldier?" She let out a small bit of laughter, although it ended quickly because of how it hurt her more than anything. "Oh, that is really frakking grand. Someone dependent on the Force and lightsabers is lecturing me about being dependent on technology? I'd kill you with my bare hands if you didn't have your lightning or what not, you fething piece of chit!"
She felt her fear of what the Sith might to do her, her terror at the prospect of suffering a slow, painful death from Force Lightning (or really anything else, but that was one of the few things she even knew about), all of this anxiety and fear of death changing into something else. Her anger only amplified with each passing moment forced to kneel down in front of her would-be interrogator, each of her poisonous, and yet honeyed words making her blood boil. Was she right? Was she wrong? Natassia was getting completely mad over the incessant back and forth that was going on in her mind. She made some good points about the Jedi, but ultimately, the former stormtrooper still knew something very important about power, and she voiced it with each word tained by the hatred brewing inside of her.

"Oh, and more of your hypocrisy", she spat. "Oh, look at the Jedi's exaction, such monsters. Right, because the Sith never do anything like that. I'm going to spell it out to you, since you don't seem to understand anything; I'm not an idiot. This is not the good guys against the bad guys, this is war! And in war, no side is right. Do you get that? Or do I need to fraking drill it into your thick skull?"
What she didn't answer was the quest for power, but she already knew what it would lead to. Power led to hubris and overconfidence; which was just another way to get yourself killed. Power corrupted, as evidenced by the Moff of the Empire. And what was power without love, or compassion?
She prepared herself for one final effort. The argument wasn't going anywhere good for her, and she knew that the malignant corruption of the Sith would devour her if she gave voice to it - which she already did, to a certain extent. All it would take would be a lunge; but there was a thousand ways for her to die before she would even get to touch [member="Vaylin"] .
 
Location: Mirial - Residential Housing | Rooftops
Objective: Convince.
Allies: The Sith Empire - [member="Aria Vale"]
Enemies: The Silver Jedi - [member="Natassia Traxen"]
Equipment: [SIZE=11pt] [/SIZE]2x Sith Lightsabers | Armour | Oculus

Vaylin rolled her eyes, the temptation to knock the soldier around a little more growing increasingly appealing.

"Don't presume to know what you don't. I've been without the Force for a long time, I know well enough how to fight without it. You'd be hard pressed to take me out with your bare hands."

The first eleven years of her life had been stuck beneath her mother's tyrannical thumb. Pushed into learning how to fight when she was old enough, where others would be just living their young lives, Vaylin would be forced into lessons every day. Although she learned how to push back, unlike her older siblings who had become far too warped within their mother's point of view. All that conflict and violence had literally sustained the Zabrak throughout the years.

It came as no surprise then, looking back on it. That she didn't remain within the Jedi once she was abandoned - and found such an easy hold within the Sith and the Darkside of the Force.

Anger boiled beneath the surface, the desire to actually zap Natassia with a bit of lightning was enticing in that moment. Even though the Zabrak was presently unable to use it, yet anyway. But then the soldier's next words made her laugh.

A haunt laugh that echoed across the rooftop.

"Did I say the Sith didn't, hmm? No I didn't, we at least acknowledge it. The Jedi hide behind their hypocrisy, claiming their are beacons of justice...does this look like that to you?" There was frustration in her voice, if this had been any other planet then Vaylin wouldn't have cared so much. But they had put in effort to help aid the Mirialans, only for all that progress to go up in flames. Most importantly though, they were citizens of the Sith Empire now.

"You have at least one thing going for you, soldier. You're not as blinded by the Jedi as many are. But don't get any delusions that they won't spin this as being just black and white. That this was all for the greater good in their path to smothering the Darkside."

Whatever Vaylin had left to say, was cut off when a searing beam of light came shooting down from the sky, not entirely too far away from their position. The Zabrak looked over at Aria, the woman seemingly recognizing what was happening. She heard her master call to move, as the beam expanded and began to scorch across the rooftop. Vaylin moved, running a brief bit before diving the rest of the distance. The sensation of the Force; the darkened heart of it, slipping away latched onto the Zabrak in that moment. Until she was able to move out of its range.

But by the time it diminished and the two Sith returned to the other side of the roof, Natassia had managed to make her exit.
 
"Oh, but I'd like to see that!" mocked the soldeir as she stared into the Zabrak's eyes, closing her fist. "I bet your neck wouldn't be that hard to snap."
She had long forgotten the fear and submission that went with her situation; it was all about taunting her opponent now, to see how long she could push and prod before she would be inevitable punished. It was foolish, a completely useless thing to do, and yet she felt satisfied. Life was about daring to act, and speaking in such a manner in front of someone able to reduce her to a screaming wreck of a person gave her a serious flow of adrenaline. Thinking of coherent, intelligent rebuttals got harder and harder as she became unable to think of anything else than several ways to infuriate [member="Vaylin"] . Killing her wouldn't be in her reach, anyway; and, despite all of her anger and aggressive tendencies, she still felt the same thing than before shooting at her, back in the Capitol Building; she didn't want to take her life. And, after all she had told her, she was still not ready to make that choice. After all, despite the painful treatment dished out onto her, she was still alive, wasn't she?

"An honest murderer is still a murderer", she responded to the Sith's comment, although she was very much shaken by it. She was right; the Jedid did hide behind ideals of justice and peace, but waged war all the same. She marked a moment of pause, gazing down at the battles raging down below, in the streets of Mirial.
"No", she simply spoke with a shake of her head. "This is war. And war leaves little place for justice."
Vaylin's prophetic words only served to make her even more uneasy. She tried to fight it, but that creeping, slithering cold took hold of her once more; it was a good point indeed. She didn't expect any of the Jedi to acknowledge this mess as something that was not only the Sith's fault, but also their's. It would always be a fight of white against black, without anyone ever taking a different approach to it all.

She opened her mouth to speak, when Vaylin and Aria were both hit by the beam of light. Taking the opportunity, the soldier aimed her arm at a nearby building, her grapple shooting out of her wrist and anchoring itself there. Groaning at the pain of her body being suddenly lifted in the air, she landed roughly on the roof of the other building, retracting her grapple into her arm, and standing on wobbly legs.
"Farewell, Sith!", she spoke in a neutral tone to the two Valkyries. "This has been an... interesting conversation."

And with that, she turned her back on them and left the building to reunite with the rest of the Jedi and seek medical attention. If she didn't find someone really fast, her wounds would be the end of her.
 

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