Skirmish [SO/GA] Caldera Crisis

[Darth Wallgof]

Objective: 1 - Hunt down some Jedi
Appearance: This
Equipment: Lightsaber
Tag: Jonyna Si

Darth Wallgof was focused, his rage was pounding louder in his ears than any roars or manipulations of the Jedi. His mind was focused on a singular task. Destroy this Jedi. Demonstrate his superiority in his skills with the Force, his movements were swift, sharp and precise as he continued to block and parry the Jedi Knight's attacks. Beskar was a defence that Wallgof was exploiting and he refused to lower his guard. His senses were fired over the top and he knew that dangers were coming from a Lightsaber that was seemingly unignited.

"Try all the underhanded and manipulative tricks you wish Jedi but you are weak. Your convictions are pathetic." Darth Wallgof roared as he continued to hone his Shatterpoint, assessing what he can do to finish this fight. He knew she would fight as long as she could but Wallgof's stamina was allowing him to go further, his rage was deep, his hatred was massive. However, the come down from the Force Rage would be drastic at this point.

His beskar cladded fists and punching her blades, aiming to shatter them. His low growls tapping into the ability to Force Scream in order to disorient Jonyna, building up, Wallgof roared as he blasted a Force Scream that would hopefully disorient and weaken her for Wallgof to finish this fight.

​

​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Objective: Sith Pursuit
Equipment: Lightsaber, Sword, Dagger, Armor
Tags: Judah Lesan / Cambria Zadira

​

"And yet you supposed 'Guardians of Peace' never seem to kill the genocidal ones do you? No, you sate your blood on the weak Sith and let the real threats go off to terrorize the galaxy! Because you Jedi can't stop them, so now we have to do it!" His strike was parried but he couldn't afford to attempt another with his sword, not when he had to raise it to block a blade coming for his throat. For a brief moment he was locked in place in front of the Jedi, his visor reflecting only the face of his opponent.

"So complacent and yet so fething annoying! Either do your job or let the Sith do it for you!" Alisteri threw off the blades of his opponent and stepped back to quickly reorient himself into a slightly more defensive posture, with his own dual blades held across his body in case a quick counter strike was needed. Not that he intended to let himself be struck first of course.

One of his legs lashed out, trying to kick the Jedi in the knee as his weapons sliced forward in a simple but aggressive movement that would keep the Jedi's weapons occupied. "How many times have your orders had Carnifex at their mercy? How many times has he and his ilk slipped away to ruin the Sith and the galaxy once more? You Jedi destroy everything of the Sith except our corrupted tyrants!" Not to mention the countless pirates, slave masters, and general criminal nuisances that lined the Outer Rim and had served as his personal prey for years by this point.

An infestation that he could never quite get rid of, no matter how many dens and nests he exterminated. Much like the Jedi. "Once their kind are out of the way, you Jedi are next! We'll go planet by planet if necessary to save the galaxy from your false promises and arrogant mercy!"

 

[Dominik Borra]

Gear:
Ebony, Sword | The Equalizer (x3 Void Bullets)| Mirrorverse Heavy Pistol(Ravage) | Amulet of Many | Personal Armor | Robotic Arm | Cybernetic Eye | Thorns | GH05-T SPARK droid
Tags: Katherine Holt | Darth Carnifex | Niynx Ioune

Direct hit! Dominik kept up the heat, the particle beams exploding on the age-old Sith Emporer. He was getting peppered, his droids keeping their gaze on him. And then he was gone, just vanished from their tracking. Dominik was prepared for him to move, to run with his feet, not Night Sister Magick. His new location was picked up instantly by the drones, at the top of the stairs to the palace. Dominik stopped firing and turned to him. Barely a scratch, the particle beams not working. His armor was strong enough to stop those too. The weapon hadn't been accurate enough to aim for the head and exposed arms, but he should have. Might have ended it all if he just aimed an inch higher.

The droids reported temperature changes, the entire area rapidly heating up. Thermal vision became useless, and two droids faltered and melted before the third was able to escape the heating gaze of the Emporer, flying higher up. Just like when fighting Tegan Starfall , Force prowess was trumping his gear. He hated fighting them face to face. But his gear and his brain were all he had, the only cards he could play.

The thermal gel of his undersuit protected him long enough to find brief cover under a pile of snowy rubble. The snow in the area had combated whatever Darth Carnifex was doing, giving Dominik just a few seconds more before it all became steam. He pulled out the magazine for his Heavy rifle, thinking.

The Shadow thawed out. The thing broke free of the ice prison he had made it, melted by Carnifex's heat ray. It tried to dart for Dominik but stopped, stunned and in seeming pain from it's master's abilities. But kark if it wasn't fast. He couldn't have that thing coming at his back again, nor at the kids. He dropped both the Heavy Rifle and the Cross Cryogun, a relief on his bloodied arm, and drew his Equalizer. He had no idea what a Void Bullet would do to this being, but it had a physical form and was highly infused with the Force. Couldn't be good. He fired at the shadow, the sound a good warning bell for his allies to perk up their ears as he shouted: "Take cover!"

He stood up from his cover, his armor instantly heating up, aimed, and threw the particle beam magazine. Normal blaster magazines exploded violently when exposed to high enough heat, and he had used them as impromptu explosives many times before. This was different, however. Not meant to shoot blaster bolts but particle beams, he had never subjected it to exploding before. It may blow up in fire and shrapnel, or it may shoot particle beams in every possible direction. Dominik started sprinting for another piece of cover, sliding behind it as his hands moved to reload Equalizer. The moment he went behind cover the magazine took enough heat, arcing above the palace stairs, and exploded. Dominik hoped it would at least blind the bastard, make him shut those creepy glowing eyes for a moment.

Dominik righted himself as he passed the cover, continuing his run towards and up the stairs, exposing himself. He drew Ebony in his right hand, an alchemized sword an old, old friend had gifted him, while keeping Equalizer in his damaged right arm. The thing hurt like hell and he was leaving blood dripping behind him, but it was functional enough to shoot. Fighting Tegan he had learned that fighting people on this level from a distance once they knew you were there was hopeless. You had to get in their face, force them to use their saber and rely on their body and skills, not the Force. Running up to them head on was a bit suicidal, but he didn't have another choice.

Dominik wasn't a master of the blade, maybe Knight status if anything, nor did he have the Force to predict attacks for him. But he had begun his training decades ago against Sith Acolytes and he knew how it all worked in their head. Fighting on stairs, being the lower party, swinging upwards against a giant like Carnifex? This was probably the worst position he had ever gotten himself into. Only advantage he had here was his arm, his eye for tracking and faster movements, and the fact the sword would be heavier than a saber. He swung for the head.

 

[Jonyna Si]

Wallgof roared as he blasted a Force Scream that would hopefully disorient and weaken her for Wallgof to finish this fight.

​

The scream certainly worked, but Jonyna had one last gambit, throwing all her strength behind it.

A hand stuck out towards Darth Wallgof 's chest, using as much power as she could to telekinetically rip the chest piece off the sith lord. If she couldn't get through the beskar, she'd remove it. Maybe then she'd get a hit in. Her ears rang, the only thing she could hear at this point was her own heartbeat. Still, the wind raged around her. She had to keep fighting. She needed to. So long as her legs still worked....

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

(PvE) Objective II — Refugee Crisis​

Allied Tag: Wedge Draav l GADF/New Jedi Order
Enemy Tag: SO l None yet

The Talons cheered at the gunship flying by after coming to their aid. Allowing herself to smile, Minerva thought.

When we get out of this we're going to buy those flyboys drinks.

Her attention returned to the front as refugees fled past them all around. However, several came over, wielding blasters and a few melee weapons. Not far behind them were a collection of Alliance marines. One a Ryn in battered armor that she didn't recognize but with the bearing of a officer

"Let us fight beside you to protect our own."

Tired but grateful Minerva gestured with a hand wave.

"The more, the merrier. Take up what cover you can get. The less targets we give the Sithies the better. Who are you anyway, warrior?"

"Captain Lo-Rin, of the Iiad home guard. A town militia. Well I was anyway until the heathen Sith returned."

The Ryn spat the mention of them. Coming up beside him was a pale baldish human in Alliance marine armor.

"Lieutenant Kus Trell, 17th Marines."

Gesturing to his nine comrades he added.

"This is all that is left of my platoon."

With an understanding nod Minerva let the two be while she, her own troops and the marines received word Wedge Drav's report about refugee ships.

Narrowing her eyes in suspicion Minerva was considering investigating when Irni called out her high position above them.

"Sith forces are coming again!"

"How many?"

"Five assault tanks leading the way and what looks to be a whole company marching behind them."

Several in her team cursed upon hearing that. Minerva gripped her rifle in both grim determination. At least they got some extra fighters and air support, however long it will last. She called Wedge up in the air.

"Boxer One do you copy? Unless you already noticed we got a Sith force company size advancing up the route with five tanks in the lead. We'll get their full attention then you bring the rain on them, target those tanks first."

To her surviving team-mates she ordered.

"Talons anyone who still has a working jetpack prepare to attack."

Those within hearing range all turned and stared at her dumbfounded. Before any of them could object she quickly explained.

"We're going to play mynock with them. Use our mobility to hit and evade, keep the scum distracted long enough for our gunship friends to do their job."

Understanding but still sombered by what they're about to do the Talons prepared, checking gear, weapons and some prayed to whoever their deity was. As Minerva addressed her two fellow officers. She technically didn't command them but felt it wasn’t the time to play ranks. The Marine seemed to read her thoughts and looked back at her.

"You get back here as soon as that's done. Or else I'll tell the whole galaxy how much of an idiot you were."

A chuckle escaped the Mandalorian as she replied.

"Noted."

"Ashla be with you." Declared Captain Lo-Rin.

Minerva then turned to Irni. "You and Stiches stay. They'll need ya both."

The Sullustan frowned at that but reluctantly nodded.

It wasn't long before they spotted the enemy armor advancing from out of the other end of the valley. Coming up behind were the troopers fully committed to wiping out their foes.

So shall it be. Minerva thought to herself, arming herself with the dual pistols. In a loud voice she bellowed.

"ATTACK!"

Igniting the engines she flew in the air with most of the remaining Talons. Rocketeering off the slope they sped toward the opposing host. It wasn't long before tanks and soldiers alike started firing at them from below. Using every means possible Minerva swung from one angle to another to dodge the hostile fire. One of the Talons was hit and fell to his death. She and the others returned fire, soaring around, making it difficult for them to be hit.

Making a quick Minerva aimed and fired her last remaining missile striking the tank on the far right. An explosion rocked its side and screeched to a violent halt, leaving it immobilized. She ascended away and hoped Wedge makes his move soon.

 

[Wedge Draav]

REFUGEE CRISIS

OUT OF THE SUN


GALACTIC ALLIANCE DEFENSE FORCE: Starfighter Corps
Lieutenant Wedge "Boxer" Draav

HAAT Gunship Variant.

Allies: GADF l Minerva Fhirdiad
Enemies: SO l None Yet

​

"Copy."

Was the curt reply from Boxer-One. There wasn't any funny business, despite the reputation. Off-duty and out of the cockpit, Wedge was a violent, borderline alcoholic. In the cockpit, Wedge was all-business. Laser-focused, pun intended.

"Firing solutions, start 'em. Target tanks first." The Gunner chirped a reply, way ahead of Wedge. He was already targeting the tanks, the droid mind in the HAAT developing a firing solution. The gunner manually took over, his hands gripping tightly the missile controls.

"I have a solution, alter your approach vector." His Gunner said, turning his head towards Wedge.

The Gunship went up high and away- and for a moment, it looked as though the Gunship left the battlefield entirely.

And then after a tense thirty seconds of nothing, the gunship came down, an altered vector on the long axis of the tank's approach. The heavy armor turned their turrets and activated jammers. Which would've worked on the smart missiles. But Wedge was a madman in the pilot world. He preferred, like his gunner, to use "dumb" missiles. No guidance system. Just straight anger and discontent.

His HAAT slowed and provided forward shields heavy, slowing their approach.

The HAAT spat fire like a dragon of the old stories, death raining on the approaching Sith armor. No jammer, no shields, and with missiles designed to take out Starships, the tanks stood little chance. The infantry spread out wide, disoriented and began to engage the HAAT. As they flew over, he saw the warnings that some rounds had impacted his fuselage on the heavy underbelly. He heard it too- a loud PING each time blaster fire struck him.

Nothing to make the veteran pilot too squirrelly though.

He opened the line back to the forces on the ground.

"You're gonna need to get those transports moving a little bit aways from your position. We'll do a few more runs to thin out the infantry. We can take 20 of your people to the transports. Somethings wrong with the evac. We gotta do something, how copy?"

Boxer-One made a victory pass over the Alliance soldiers, the fuselage's rather-flattering depiction of Valery Noble painted on the nose. It was well noted that Valery did not hold a missile in such a manner ever in her life, but Wedge liked to think so. Well, that and he paid the artist almost a thousand credits to do the artwork. The Gunship was the same one he used at Tython, the Gunship that defied the Sith, fought against Starfighters- and required years worth of repair.

But damn did she handle well. And damn did she kill even better.

"Mark targets for my gunner. Use smoke to ID key targets, I'll confirm color before my approach. All further air support will be danger close- keep your people down."

 

[Lao-ta]

Elom
Lower atmosphere
Niynx Ioune Darth Carnifex Dominik Borra Katherine Holt

As she raced away from the battle and towards another she noticed the parting shot from the enemy fighter before wolf squadron engaged. As the missile closed on her she reached out in the force and again nudged the missile off course and simultaneously fired her rear facing cannons to destroy the projectile. With her escape made she rushed for the city.

Passing over the palace she searched below for a suitable place to land. There were crashed ships and flaming rubble littering the courtyard outside the palace steps, but there was enough space for her to set down her small fighter. As she passed a chill ran down her spine and her stomach twisted into knots. There was something powerful down there. Powerful in the dark side. Something so twisted she struggled to comprehend it. Whatever Niynx had gotten himself into was colossally bad. She circled the city one more time before angling to land.

 

[Darth Wallgof]

Objective: 1 - Hunt down some Jedi
Appearance: This
Equipment: Lightsaber
Tag: Jonyna Si

Wallgof could only laugh in the pathetic final gambit of the Jedi, she was attempting to rip the beskar from his armour. Specifically the chest piece. It was one of the hardest pieces to remove in terms of armour, since it was tightly linked to the back piece of beskar and the one that was most securely attached to him to protect the vital organs that the Cathar was attempting to get an opportunity to strike at.

While she fixated on attempting to rip the armour off, it gave the Sith Lord a chance to display his strength in the Force, using Force Crush to precisely target her arm and render it useless. He was seeking to kill her outright but slowly and painfully. If she was determined to play the hero, then she would die like a pathetic hero as well then.

At least that was his aim.

​

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[Nyaeli]

​

Location: Elom
Attani Implant: Link!
Tag: Shan Pavond

"Can't you just shut up?!" Nyaeli screamed while Shan began to ramble nonsense about sand. If he wanted to piss her off, it was certainly working. His constant teasing and now the grin on his face made her want to claw his eyeballs out, and slowly break down his mind until he was nothing more than a mindless zombie. Every attack of her showed this desire, as that hatred and anger deep within fueled her attacks.

It made her far more powerful, but far more volatile as well. She couldn't keep this up forever.

Soon enough, Shan's blade grazed her arm when her own defenses slipped, and Nyaeli hissed at the pain it caused. Her eyes focused on him, but for some odd reason, she couldn't break through. He wasn't the first Jedi capable of shielding his mind she had encountered, but he was the first Padawan to be able to completely resist her.

How?

"I'm fighting to kill the likes of you," She told him through gritted teeth as their blades collided again. "You've done this to me, and I hate you." She continued to batter away at his defenses, but she was getting exhausted. Strength and speed diminished, and she knew time was running out.

Deep down, she knew that if this continued, he'd be able to kill her.

 

[Shan Pavond]

Shan could clearly sense the anger coming from Nyaeli. The anger and hatred was almost radiating off her...but that was actually something that gave Shan hope funnily enough. Anger. Hatred. Those were things that you could get over. Whereas if this was something Nyaeli did just because she had wanted to? Shan would have been more terrified of that. He could feel her attacks growing more and more powerful as her anger grew. He knew one slip up would cause himself to die...Would cause the woman he was trying to save to die. And would cause the child he had helped earlier to become an Orphan...and he couldn't allow that to happen.

The Mirialan clenched his teeth, as his grin faded from view, being replaced with a scowl. It was hard for Shan not to feel his own anger bubbling up. Shan hadn't done anything to Nyaeli. The woman and child hadn't done anything to her. She had no right to blame it all on them. No right to try and kill them.

So he was unusually quiet as their blades kept colliding against each other. Fighting to kill...That was what Nyaeli was doing. And in a way, it was what Shan was starting to do. If he had a clearer mind, Shan might have taken it a bit more easier once he had managed to graze Nyaeli's arm...but he didn't. The anger from how Nyaeli was treating others, alongside the pain from the Force Lightning were at the forefront of his mind now.

Which is why once Nyaeli started to get exhausted, Shan switched from defense to offense. Instead of waiting and reacting to Nyaeli's blows, he turned up the gas on his attacks. Slashing away at Nyaeli's saber, and letting his anger bubble up more and more. It wasn't just anger from Nyaeli at this point however. It was the anger he felt from his childhood. From the gangs on Nar Shaddaa and how much pain they caused the people. Trying to smash the blade out of Sith Apprentice's hand, eventually causing the blade to fall out of her hands alongside sending Nyaeli to the ground.

This was his chance. Nyaeli was disarmed and open right in front of him. The Mirialan held his saber pointed directly at the Apprentice's chest, as he kept the snarl on his face. If he killed her here and now, that would be less damage to the galaxy later. Less people would be hurt...but that wasn't what Shan was fighting for. He wasn't fighting to kill. He was fighting to protect. To save. Even if that meant saving someone from themselves. The Padawan took in a shaky breath, disengaging his lightsaber...before wincing pain as the painkilling properties of his crystal were deactivated.

Shan reached his hand out towards Nyaeli, in an offer to help her up to her feet whilst his eyes settled on her's. When he spoke, it was a much more firm tone than he was used to himself, with no sign of his earlier teasing or jovialness. "Well. You're lucky I'm not fighting to kill you. If you're willing, I'll even try to heal the graze on your arm. After that? We're going our separate ways. I'm going to take that woman to be evacuated and you're going to do...whatever you're going to do. I'm not going to try to make you come with me. You're too angry right now. Too full of hatred...but you don't have to be." He kept his saber in his main hand, just to be safe, as his eyes kept darting towards Nyaeli's saber.

Nyaeli

 

[DeadpoolMLP]

While she fixated on attempting to rip the armour off, it gave the Sith Lord a chance to display his strength in the Force, using Force Crush to precisely target her arm and render it useless. He was seeking to kill her outright but slowly and painfully. If she was determined to play the hero, then she would die like a pathetic hero as well then.

​

A roar rang through the battlefield as Jonyna's arm was crushed, dropping to the ground. No. No no no. She couldn't die here...

She raised her other arm, only for her saber to ring through her mind.

"Do not die here Daughter. Let us fight your battle."

Jonyna only had a moment to choose. A moment to run. Would she turn tail and run? She had to. She couldn't die here. She had Giran now. She had Cathar to protect. She closed her eyes, and between her and Darth Wallgof , a spirit apparated in front of them, surrounded by three familiars. Two owls, and a wolf, all swarming the sith lord at once. The force ghost took a Form VII stance, raising a hand and blasting the sith lord with Force Light, while the wolf rushed forward, latching onto the sith's leg, the two owls swooping down with their talons bared.

Jonyna herself took the chance to flee. She had proved her point, and distracted the sith enough to allow anyone who she had knocked out to flee.

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

(PvE) Objective II — Refugee Crisis
​

Allied Tag: Wedge Draav l GADF/New Jedi Order
Enemy Tag: SO I None yet

Minerva, still in flight, couldn't help but let out a roar-like cheer upon the Wedge's attack run. Many of her team-mates did the same as they kept flying around. They took advantage of the sheer destructiveness wrought on the Sith forces, picking off several more trying to find cover or shoot at the gunship. The Talon's leader flew in close to the ground, spotting an enemy commander trying to rally his troops, while firing at her comrades above. She aimed and fired just as he twisted to face her only to be blasted in the chest three times before crashing to the snow.

Not staying around to admire her handiwork Minerva spun, dodging blaster bolts shot in revenge against her. It was then she received the pilot's update. She grimaced while still soaring back up. What was going on with the evac zone? Only one way to find out.

"I copy we're on our way." Following their ally's recommendation the Talons popped crimson smoke at scattered groups up in front trying to recognize. As that was happening the Ashlans and Alliance Marines were firing from their cover in the rocks opposite of the kill zone.

With their task done Minerva and the flying Talons who had two more members flew toward the gunship.

"Open the doors Boxer One we're coming in hot!"

As soon as armed transport did so the team jumped in from each side. On the solid floor Minerva sighed. Looking up at Gakot he nodded with a toothy grin. They made it though more than twelve instead of twenty. Elom was claiming its share on their unit today but she was more than determined to returned more so to the Sith.

 

[Seela Leini]

Location: Lower Atmosphere - Elom
Time: Late Afternoon
Objective: I - Sith Pursuit │ Intercept Evacuation Ships
Call Sign: Dancer One
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic” │ <”ur-Kittât”>
Tag: Lao-ta

The clouds left no room for mistakes.

Now fully immersed in the flow of data streaming into her awareness, Seela perceived her surroundings through the ‘eyes’ of her starfighter, in lieu of her own. With her expanded perception, it didn’t take long for her to draw a bead on the engine signatures of the two remaining interceptors. Switching off the Phase Masque in order to save power, Seela committed to following their course, albeit at a slower pace.

Nevertheless, before long, she was upon them.

Twin particle beams of energized fire lanced out from the clouds to strike one of the interceptors directly in the cockpit, vaporizing its Jedi pilot in a fiery explosion, while leaving the rest of the craft largely intact. The last interceptor quickly bailed, diving down out of the clouds and towards the surface as Seela drove her starfighter in a tight chandelle before following in its wake. Pushing her engines to keep up, the strand-cast willed them into overdrive for a violent burst of acceleration, bringing her onto the interceptor’s six. Seeing her rapid approach, the enemy pilot threw his interceptor into a series of jinks, yaws, rolls, pitch-ups, and more, forcing Seela to bleed off some of her speed with a dizzying series of rolls. Just as she was about to overshoot, the strand-cast activated the braking engines, cutting almost all of her speed and giving her the perfect shot into the interceptor’s engines.

Without hesitation, she took it.

At the behest of a mental command, the interceptor was bathed in flames as the particle beams struck, instantly cooking the pilot alive in the process. Seela glanced down as the craft careened down towards the valley, but otherwise, the strand-cast didn’t linger as she pulled back on the control sticks and banked her starfighter around.

While the strand-cast was frustrated at having allowed the A-Wing to escape, Seela took some comfort in the fact that she alone had seized control of the skies for the Sith. It was a small victory, but one that she would relish and remember.

"Dancer One, RTB. Tally five."

Final Post.​

 

[Katherine Holt]

Location: Elom, Elos City
Objective 1: Survive
Outfit: Jedi Robes/Attire
Equipment: Blaster & Vibroknife
Tags: Darth Carnifex | Dominik Borra | Niynx Ioune | Lao-ta
​

Katherine was fortunate that Niynx was quick with his reflexes. For the redhead Padawan had frozen up the moment she saw the fire roaring towards them. She was knocked aside, out of its path, only to fall to the ground in a paralyzed lump. For her vision had been obscured, gone was Elom, instead replaced by a memory.

She was kneeling before a stretch of houses, all of which were equally on fire. Her eyes were glued to the one straight ahead of her, she tried to scream but her voice was already hoarse. Katherine could hear the sounds of fighting, of Dominik’s various weapons and gadgets as he dealt with Carnifex and his shadowy minion. But to Katherine, it was indistinguishable within the memory.

“Weak…”

“...Pathetic…”​

“...Useless."​

It was a voice unknown to Katherine, try as she might, she couldn’t recognise it.

“The wayward project, found once more. The All-Mother seeks all of her flock who have been lost…”

Carnifex’s voice was now distinguishable, as one of the people that had been present during her experiments.

But as darkness and fire wrapped around her, trying to smother her in their deathly embrace. Another voice broke through. Kahlil Noble, her Master.

“...You’re you, whatever you want to be. Don’t ever let someone try and tell you otherwise.”

Snap out of it!

Katherine returned to reality with a gasp. She immediately picked on the fact her entire body felt like it was burning up. With adrenaline coursing through her, she pushed aside her fear of fire and discarded her outer robe. But it did nothing to quell the rising sensation of her insides burning.

She glanced around, noticing that objects around them were practically melting due to the heat. What in the Force was causing this? Katherine didn’t know, but she couldn’t help wondering why she wasn’t already a goner herself. That was until she turned to look at Niynx, and realised he was projecting something that was cooling the area around him. And she was close enough to feel it slightly.

The redhead Padawan didn’t hesitate in jumping to her feet, dashing over to her fellow Padawan and keeping close to his back. Relief washed over her, as the sensation of internally burning disappeared.

“We can’t stay here,” She said, loud enough for Niynx to hear. “Unless we suddenly get a whole load of backup, we’re outmatched.” Katherine glanced around, trying to spot where the Agent had disappeared too, only to catch him as he charged towards Carnifex to get up close and personal.

“If it comes down to it, I have an idea on how to create some distance.” While she had yet to properly fly with her wings, Katherine knew she was capable of at least gliding with them. All she needed was a little ‘Force propulsion’ to get them airborne.

 

[Vera Mina]

The Android followed the girl, the scent of her telling the Android much, like it would a bloodhound. She still took out targets of opportunity, happily dismembering Sith Soldiers with that giant-ass repeater, spotted Nathan in the distance teleporting debris off of trapped Ashlans to lead them to safety. Her Android mouth salivated at watching him.

Then she spotted a Sith Sniper in a tall building to the north and rained blaster bolts on the shooter's position, obliterating the position.

"Is it possible to love a multi barrel rotary cannon? Yes. Yes it is." The Android chuckled as Inanna led her to the others. She watched in fascination as Inanna Harth hoisted the dead body.

"A dead body slows everyone down." The Android reminded her, already gunning down an approaching squad of Sith. "Sentiment..."

Vera's mind flashed back to her sister scratching her face in rage and hatred for Vera's lack of empathy.

"...never mind. Forget I said anything. Take him, if you wish." She hastily corrected out loud.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Quite interesting," commented the Dark Lord, His smile only growing wider. The Jedi youth intrigued Him, someone who acted unconventionally when faced with an insurmountable challenge. Perhaps it would've been better for them to run, to scurry into the city than draw His attention further. All laws of self-preservation stated that an animal caught in a trap would gnaw it's own limb off to escape, or to flee in the opposite direction of a terrible blaze. But here the Jedi stood, amidst the horror of unquenchable heat that reduced his surroundings to slag and molten slop, defiant in the face of his Order's greatest enemy.

He barked out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Not an animal, are we Jedi? Perhaps a man, then? We could make a monster of you yet."

A glint of light drew the Dark Lord's attention, away from the Jedi and towards the air above the palace steps. A package flew through the air there, a magazine to be more precise. He could see it moving as though time were slowed, heat radiating off the magazine like an open furnace. It was set to blow, any second now. Carnifex closed His eyes, the oppressive heat starting to fade even before He shut them completely. The magazine detonated, a tumultuous blaze erupting forth as plasmatic energy rippled out in all directions.

The Dark Lord raised His left hand, gleaming gauntlet shimmering with power, as a wall of scintillating energy arose between Himself and the rancorous explosion. The blaze parted around Him, scorching the stone nearby and sending a great blaze up and back into the palace façade itself. It did not subsist for long, the explosion wearing itself out within moments. The Dark Lord dispelled the shield, letting it disappear around Him. His eyes were still closed, and He looked to be in quiet contemplation as His senses reached out through the Force around Him.

His Shadow had briefly fled, driven back into the darkness by a well-placed voidstone bullet, the same kind used on Him earlier by the assassin on the rooftop. She would return, she always did. Loyal Ananta never strayed too far of her own volition, she was far too entwined to purposefully stray far afield from His personage. The man who fought off His shadow was quite well-equipped for a non-Mandalorian, perhaps an agent of the SIA? They were always meddling in His affairs, a nuisance that He would have to remedy in time.

The smoke parted, and the very same agent in question was rushing towards Him -- blade extended. There was something distinctly familiar about the weapon, in more ways than one. He could smell two different scents lingering within the metal, and He almost smiled as He came to recognize them both. A gout of emerald green flame burst forth in the empty space at the Dark Lord's side, and from it emerged a dark shape of iron and steel. It was a sword, though the blade was broken with about one-third from the tip unevenly snapped off. Dark runic inscriptions ran the length of the blade itself, and they seemed to glow and pulsate with a dark unworldly hunger.

Both their blades met faster than either could blink, sparks flying from the impact as both held their ground. What was strange was that the Dark Lord had not even reached for the blade, His hand was nowhere near the hilt to grasp it, and He'd barely moved since the explosion. Rather, the sword was floating in midair and had moved of it's own accord. In reality, the blade was being wielded by the Dark Lord's will rather than His physical self, but it gave the appearance of moving all by itself.

Only then, face-to-face, did the Dark Lord open both of His eyes to stare down at His adversary.

"Shall you be the first to slake Tosochkashai's thirst?"

The sword had previously been known as Derriphan the Devourer, forged by Rave Merrill's hand and gifted to the Dark Lord more than sixty years ago. He wielded it since, filling it with countless souls from thousands of battlefields across the galaxy. But during His incursion into the Wellspring of the Force, Derriphan had been shattered by none other than Thurion Heavenshield . All the souls that had filled Derriphan's gullet had spilled forth into the Wellspring, freeing them from an eternity of suffering imprisoned within that foul blade. Carnifex had withdrawn with the broken Derriphan in the end, but had yet to actually repair the weapon.

Now it bore a new name, Tosochkashai the Dark Seether. Though broken, it was still exceptionally sharp. The malefic sentiency within the weapon yearned to be filled once more with souls, and the Dark Lord intended to do just that.

One world at a time.

Katherine Holt | Niynx Ioune | Dominik Borra | Lao-ta ​

 

[Darth Caedes]

<< Through the strings of compassion, a Jedi can become entangled and bound. Pull at their noble hearts, for their need to save becomes their undoing. >>​

— Darth Caedes, on defending against Jedi​

• Elom — Evacuation Point
• Tags — Kyraj | Elmindra Xitaar | Darth Nwul | Valery Noble | Kahlil Noble
• Objective I (PvP) — Sith Pursuit

"And for a moment, I respected you for saving your apprentice."
​

Caedes curled his fingers like spider's legs and sent ash and smoke to billow and be thrust forth, called up from the stone floors and lingering clouds, into the Master's face, cinders and grit racing for azure eyes.

"Oh how just like a Jedi of you," Caedes spat, derisively.​

Skipping back further, he leapt up onto the perch of a Civilian Freighter's elongated dorsal wing and glared down at Kahlil. Beneath him, the ship's hull groaned and warped, transparisteel viewports cracking, his venomous rage like the pressure at an ocean's floor.

"Your disappointment can't cut me, Jedi."​

Behind him someone yelped with fright, the sound of their voice cut off suddenly and muffled, as if by a cupped hand. He could feel them there without turning to look, pin-pricks of fear in a vast field of pain. Sisters, young and clutching one another, with tears in their eyes. They reeked of loss and confusion, of the utter-most depths of fear and desperation.

From this vantage point, Caedes could look down upon most of the battlefield, able to see Wake and his now hibernating plaything-hostages, frozen by Kahlil's glyph-work. Alas, their lives would be worth no less in the eyes of Jedi morality for their inability to move, to scream, to gun one another down. To the East, blades hummed and flashed, sparking as they slid and crashed against one another. A true Battlemaster, Valery Noble wove between her opponents, using footwork and speed to press their advantage in numbers against them.

An ear-splitting pair of shrieks lit up the air, blood curdling and chilling, as two little girls rose above Darth Caedes, suspended in the Force. Entangled, they gripped and clutched at one another, grunting with exertion as they were torn apart and left to hang, writhing like desperate savages; almost near enough to touch fingers. They screamed and protested, the eldest threatening Caedes despite her situation, the youngest bleating for help. Both were under-lit in the toxic green of his lightsaber.

Caedes clucked and coo'd to them, a mimicry of motherly care.

"Fear not girls," he intoned, smoothly, beneath their wailing.​

"You're safe now, everything will be alright. The Jedi have come to save you!"​

With a sudden splay of his fingers, he sent them each flying, hurtling them head-over-heels in opposite directions; one careening towards a cluster of gas tanks, the other a transport's armored hull near Valery. The gesture was flippant, almost casual, a toss of two fingers, gaze never leaving Kahlil's, taunting the Shield to draw nearer.

The Force roiled in his presence, triumphant amidst the chaos and cruelty, making him grin feverishly, causing his shoulders to shake with silent laughter. The Sith had come, their fleet's blockade orbiting Elom so close as to be seen in the sky. The Jedi were outnumbered and stretched thin for time. They were not powerful enough to repel the intentions of Lord Carnifex nor his Order, they could not make an elongated stand on Elom. Time was on the side of the Sith, and there was always another body to protect...

 

[Judah Lesan]

.

Wearing: xxx
Weapons: xxx x2
Tag: Darth Strosius | Cambria Zadira

Judah was dumbfounded. The lack of logic in the words of his opponent only confirmed the fact that Sith were so overly ruled by their emotions and passions that they lacked common sense. This one definitely fit that assessment. What was Judah to say to such a ridiculous claim? Every Sith order had proven themselves capable of genocide, including the one this fellow claimed to be part of.

Irony.

The word only held more weight when Carnifex was mentioned. Was he not running around with the same brand of Sith this one claimed to be? Oh, Judah was aware of the war which they had been fighting, but he was also aware that Darth Empyrean had consolidated them all into another Empire, one he ruled over. To accuse the Jedi of not allowing Darth Carnifex to slip through their fingers while this Sith worked with the same that sided with the Dark Lord was laughable.

His thoughts had him preoccupied. It was not something Judah allowed to happen often, but in this instance the lecturing and wordiness of his opponent had him unfocused. The distraction allowed the Sith to connect the kick which had targeted Judah’s knee.

A loud wince could be heard following a bone chilling pop which seemed to echo through the valley. It seemed to cause the battle to halt for a moment, but it did not stop the Sith from pressing forward with his attack. Judah could only hope that Cambria Zadira had heard it and was on her way. Even if Judah managed to deflect the first strike, he would find continuing in the fight more difficult.

// “Bri… I need you.” //

The master knew his bond would signal his partner before his thoughts even reached her. They were sent regardless. While he knew he would suffer some form of being told that he needed to be more careful, not as reckless, and more focused, his instinct had always been to have his partner close. How he had survived those years when they had been at odds, Judah could never quite work out. Cambria had been the one to keep him balanced more often than not while he was on the field.

Judah closed his eyes and raised his blades… he had to be ready in case help did not arrive in time.

 

[Inanna Harth]

Rom made a couple more off-color remarks about her weaponry, though again Inanna took it for a cope. On the other hand, when she went to fish out the dead body, the Chiss woman tried to deter her, pointing out that it would slow them down.

Inanna turned to face her, slinging the corpse of the refugee over her shoulder. She didn’t say anything. She just looked at the woman as though daring her to try and stop their "sentiment".

"...never mind. Forget I said anything. Take him, if you wish."

“Let’s go,” Inanna said to the others, as the party began walking. “You lead the way to your ships, Rom.”

Vera Mina​

 

[Lucia Naberrie]

Location: Elom
Objective: I - Sith Pursuit │ Capture the Engineer
Tags: Inanna Harth Vera Mina

KHRD Type 2, Unit 410: Report. New Directive: Capture the Engineer Alive. Target Designation: Anja Nalle. Priority: Very High. Warning: Target Defended by [Very High] Threat Assets. Approach with Caution.

Status Update: Approaching Target Area. Combat Effectiveness Rating: 100%. New Directive: Confirmed.

Under normal conditions, the flight of refugees would not have warranted such an aggressive response.

Unfortunately, one among the refugees being escorted by Inanna Harth and Vera Mina out of the city was an engineer, a somewhat prominent expert in the field as it pertained to superheavy starship weaponry the likes of which were capable of annihilating continents and glassing cities. Possessing an extensive resume, Anja Nalle had lent her expertise to the construction of the Ashla’s Might—a super star destroyer that was once the great pride of the Ashlan Crusade, constructed during the height of its power over the Tingel Arm. In spite of the terrifying applications of her work, Anja had been proud of the part she had played in the warship’s construction. The Ashla’s Might had gone on to fight the Maw in multiple engagements and while it was undoubtedly a weapon of war, the vessel and its crew had saved thousands, if possibly even millions of lives through their efforts. However, with the collapse of the Ashlan government brought on by a brief, yet explosive civil war between warring factions, the Ashla’s Might had never emerged from drydock.

Fast forward some time and Anja Nalle found herself amidst a small group of desperate, filthy refugees, her cheap disguise ruined after being subjected to the fetid waters of a sewer. Now, all that stood between her and lifelong enslavement (or so she believed) were the efforts of a white-haired Witch of questionable alignment and a terrifying Chiss assassin who seemed to care more about racking up a kill count than helping the group escape. In any case, while she would have more readily trusted a Jedi, a Crusader, or even a simple squad of Alliance Marines, beggars could never be choosers.

All the while, just as the refugees began to move towards the ships, Lucia Naberrie—KHRD Type 2, Unit 410—made her approach from above, on the second floor of a bombed-out building some 25 meters away from the group.

She had only one shot.

Setting her energy net projector to stun, Lucia targeted the robe-clad woman (Anja Nalle) at the back of the group, then fired, discharging an expanding energy net towards her chest. Once her target was (hopefully) knocked out, the gynoid intended to deal with the escorts, who were undoubtedly far more dangerous and combat capable.

Nevertheless, Lucia had never failed a mission before. She didn’t anticipate starting now, or ever.

Spoiler: Loadout

• Daeva Combat Bodysuit
  
  • Gauntlets
    
    • FAE/W-10 Hybrid Gauntlet Scatterblaster - Heavy - L
    • FAE/W-15 Gauntlet Energy Net Projector - R
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Breshig War Forge Consolidated 'Gata'dr' Personal Energy Shield
  • Utility
    
    • Synthspray
    • Lucia Naberrie's Headband - ¹⁄₁₅ Concentration
    • Various Poisons
  • Droid
    
    • IBIS Drone
• FAE/M-03 "Pellax" Aerial Katana
  
  • Poison Reservoir - Empty
• FAE/M-03 "Pellax" Aerial Katana
  
  • Poison Reservoir - Empty
• Zeilla Lightdaggers