Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Skirmish [SO/GA] Caldera Crisis


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She couldn't keep control any longer. The First let out a sigh of annoyance, her yellow gaze drifting across the battlefield she'd slaughtered so many on. Just a little flex of her power. But it wasn't enough. She missed fighting. Missed conflict. Ah well. This would have to do for now. She kept the cold smile she'd had since she came back, but seeing the carnage brought a slightly wider smile to her face.

This was what she truly missed most. Expressing her power. Her seal had been changed, but this would do for now.

She fell limp shortly after, only held up in Braze's arms. Unconscious, asleep. And clearly in pain. Power like that in a body that didn't have the capability to use it on her own just meant backlash. And a lot of it. Convenient for the First to give back control to Aliris just as the backlash started to kick in. Her skin paled, and she could already feel a fever. Worse, she remembered it. Everything about what she'd been able to do.

And the fact that she'd given up control to another.

She breathed heavy, barely clinging on to Braze as he carried her. Right now, all she had was pain numbing her mind. She needed to get out of here, and right now all she could trust was that he'd bring her somewhere safe. Where, she wasn't even sure. Would he drag her to the Jedi? Somewhere else? It honestly filled her with panic. Almost as much as what just happened.

"No.. No Jedi.."

Braze Braze
 
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<< This is KkffFfftt-dawan Holt, my KkffFfftt-crashed down in KkffFfftt-capital city KkffFfftt-anyone KkffFfftt-earing this KkffFfftt-find me. I KkffFfftt-hornet's nest. >>
— Intercepted transmission from Padawan Holt, Elom
"You will cease and desist at once, Lord Emperor—!" commanded Niynx from atop the palace stairway.​
Somehow, he managed to sound both adamant and deferential in the same stroke, bowing his head but keeping hard eyes on Carnifex, before him. Niynx Ioune, Padawan learner to Jedi Knight Lao-ta, stood with his hands tucked into robe sleeves and looked for all the world a mote of serenity and calm defiance amidst the chaos of warfare. Shuddering winds swept through his unruly hair like the branches of snapwood trees, but he remained statuesque. Frail, at just fourteen years of age and not yet filled out, Niynx nevertheless embodied a resilience within the Force, defiant even as it was eclipsed.
"What more can death gain you now?" He called down to the Sith below him.​
"Step away from the Jedi and let us be civil. Your point is made. The Sith are recognized and the Ashlans lay broken at your feet— but you are not in so powerful a position as you think. You presence here on Elom is hardly uncontested. Come, let us bring about this transition you seek away from such violence..."
 
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Braze stumbled through the tumultuous battlefield, the relentless wind and swirling sand biting at his exposed skin. The weight of his battle wounds dragged him down, each step becoming more labored than the last. The exhaustion gnawed at his bones, his body aching with every movement. The Force that once coursed through him now felt distant and elusive, leaving him drained and vulnerable.

Desperation filled his heart as he desperately scanned the desolate landscape for any sign of refuge. The howling winds distorted his vision, obscuring his surroundings and making it increasingly difficult to discern friend from foe. Each gust seemed to whisper promises of defeat and despair, threatening to extinguish the flickering ember of hope within him.

With a final burst of determination, Braze pushed forward, his weary legs carrying him through the frozen wasteland. But his body could no longer bear the strain. He stumbled, his knees sinking into the cold sand, and the world around him blurred into darkness.

Unconsciousness claimed him, his body succumbing to the overwhelming fatigue and the toll of the battles fought. The wind continued its merciless assault, the snow and sand swirling around his prone form.

It was then, in the depths of despair, that a warm and loving presence approached. Matthew, a beacon of hope in the desolate expanse, stumbled upon the fallen Braze and Aliris. His heart filled with compassion, he swiftly assessed the situation and recognized the dire need for immediate rescue.

Gently, Matthew gathered Braze and Aliris in his strong arms, shielding them from the biting wind. Large feathered wings enveloped each of them to help shield the small youths from the winds. With careful steps, he carried them to safety.

Finding refuge within a nearby space yacht, Matthew sequestered the wounded and exhausted children, providing them with the warmth and protection they so desperately needed. The hum of the vessel's engines provided a soothing backdrop, drowning out the echoes of battle that still reverberated in their minds.

Wrapped in the embrace of safety and care, Braze and Aliris began their journey toward recovery, nurtured by Matthew's unwavering kindness. In the shelter of the space yacht, they found solace, their wounds tended to, and their spirits rekindled.

The children's wounds were taken care of and their conditions stabilized, Matthew returned to the observatory and settled down feeling out the various presences at play across the harsh environment and the intense mix of emotions that played out as death swept over the conflict.

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Elom
Low Altitude
Objective I: Sith Pursuit (PvP)

Elmindra remained focused on piloting their shuttle through the field of strange sorcery while Darth Caedes and the young Wake Nayne combined forces in an effort to counter the trap. She found herself quite impressed with the effectiveness of their combined defense, specifically surprised by the raw power the young man was able to conjure. Elmindra could see his potential and approved of Caedes taking him under his wing since their victory on Korriban, if not for any other reason than to keep a close eye on him herself.

Then she heard the voice of her apprentice crackle to life in her ear.
"Master Xitaar. I have deployed troops to secure your landing site. The Breaker will remain above to provide air support. Requesting permission to personally engage on the ground."
"Permission granted. As soon as you have touched down, come to me and remain close. We are to engage the Sword and Shield as a united front. Now is the time to show me what you have learned,"
she responded as the Stollen Pride descended, coming to land within columns of smoke created by the preceding explosion so that they were somewhat shrouded by the destruction.


Elom
Planet Surface
Outside The Capital Spaceport
Objective I: Sith Pursuit (PvP)

Elmindra followed Darth Caedes down the boarding ramp remaining at his flank as they descended. Her icy gaze raked over the barren landscape that stretched out before them, seeking a visual on their opponents. She scowled at the chilled wind that whipped about them. She despised the cold but not nearly as much as she despised the Jedi. She allowed that white hot hatred to bolster her against the chill, allowed it to empower the dark side as it swelled within her. She reached out with the force, pulling on the minds of her those around her, rioting their own anger and hatred. All the while, her Falleen pheromones rioted those same emotions, compelling her allies, Sith and Rajakzânkut alike, to do away with fear and doubt and embrace the aggression and rage necessary for the impending battle.

The Falleen Knight followed suit in activating her own lightsaber, the hilt elegantly curved in the traditional Makashi style, the red glow of the blade reflecting in the deep crimson of her large reptilian eyes as she readied herself for battle. She would remain close to Lord Caedes, moving with him to engage their intended targets.
 
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His eyes followed the movements of the Jedi Padawan even before she came into view. When the small redhead stepped out from behind the crashed ship, the Dark Lord almost laughed. The strange sense of familiarity had intrigued Him the moment He sensed the ship coming down on His position, which is why He bothered to even approach the vessel in the first place. Now He saw why. Her feathery wings would have been unmistakable to all involved with the highly secretive Valkyrie program, especially towards the end of the Third Imperial Civil War when they accelerated their dark experiments beyond all constraints of safety.

"
The wayward project, found once more. The All-Mother seeks all of her flock who have been lost. To return you to her side will bring her much joy." The Dark Lord's voice was loud and authoritative, each syllable seeming to cut straight through her mind and body; reverberating deep in her bones. But it was more than that, for this was not the voice of a stranger wholly unknown to the young Jedi. No, she would recognize this voice, those memories not surfacing from the blackest depths of her most excruciating nightmares.

Blank sterile walls.

Harsh fluorescent light.

Men and women in medical uniforms, constantly invading her privacy, subjecting her to endless tests. The winged women with stern countenances, eyes full of blazing fury. And that great shadow, that monstrous man, who she could only see in silhouette looming at the edges of her consciousness. His eyes were all that could be seen amidst the blackness of His form, sharply defined halos of molten copper which seemed to lay bare all of her innermost secrets.

The Dark Lord smiled, lips pulled over sharpened teeth. He took a step towards her, and then another, followed by a third. No gesture was made to reach for the lightsaber hanging from His belt, which could be visibly seen as the wind tugged at His stark white cloak. The Dark Lord opened His mouth as though to speak, but stopped Himself as His gaze suddenly shifted upwards. A ship high above suddenly shifted it's position, nose pointed down as laser cannons belched three volleys in rapid succession. They each followed the last, spaced out just enough that they would strike quickly and decisively. But, as they neared, the bolts would unnaturally bend away from their intended course and strike the ground near the Dark Lord rather than directly on Him.

Dust and debris was scattered and kicked up in every direction, blanketing the entire courtyard in a thick smog. Visibility was greatly reduced, practically zero, but the Dark Lord of the Sith was not perturbed. Rather, He reached out and tore the co-pilot free from the open cockpit. The man had died shortly after the crash, succumbing to the grievous injuries which had ripped apart his body. But in death, the Dark Lord would give him meaning he never had in life.

The moment came when the Dark Lord heard the depression of a blaster trigger, and the displacement of the air as a physical slug was propelled from that same blaster's barrel. He wrenched the body of the slain co-pilot up into the air, directly in the path of the bullets that radiated a null-zone in the Force; alerting the Dark Lord to their nature before He could physically see them. Then, He propelled the corpse at great velocity towards the origin of the shots, the body splattering into multiple pieces and a thick spray of partly coagulated blood on impact.

"Clever tactics and clever gear won't avail you, assassin. The Mandalorians learned that when I reduced their people to a mere footnote." He spoke only for but a moment before another voice cut through the air, this time originating from the palace steps. The Dark Lord's gaze partly turned to regard this new arrival, but also partly kept a watchful eye on the rooftops nearby. It was another Jedi, a padawan like the girl, but this one had far much more to say than his fellow. "One might be led to believe that the younger generations have been taught to not approach me, or has my son grown lax in his rightful fear?"

He smiled and chuckled once more, reaching up to cast away the white cloak which had previously concealed Him. Dark armor, enriched with the Dark Side, covered His body from neck to toe. His lightsaber glinted more openly now, but still He did not reach for it. Instead He shifted His stance as though to indicate He would engage all of His adversaries with hands alone.

"Together or alone, it makes no difference. It will all end the same."


 

Bastila Sal-Soren

Guest
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Wearing: XoXo
Equipment: Lightsaber
Location: Elom
Tag: Lily Decoria Lily Decoria , Erid Zodana Erid Zodana , Scrudge Scrudge
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Bastila found herself at a loss, unsure of how to interpret the boy's rather grim perspective or how to formulate an appropriate response that would come across kindly. The stark contrast between what seemed like Lily's unwavering positivity and Erid's perpetually irritable demeanor was jarring, yet she took some comfort that neither of them seemed overly concerned.

Not even in the face of the frenzied Wookie's dramatic entrance.

Hazel eyes widened ever so slightly in astonishment at the erratic display, watching as frantic civilians fled from their ruined transport while the Wookiee bellowed and fired his bowcaster with reckless abandon. A chill ran down her spine at the sight; she'd never encountered such raw, untamed fury in a Wookie before.

Drawing on the Force for guidance and strength, Bastila decided to act, sending a telekinetic shove towards the rampaging Wookie, hoping it would be enough to unbalance him and grant the frightened civilians a chance to escape.

Unhooking her lightsaber from her belt, she turned to Lily and Erid — temporarily pushing aside her own apprehension in favor of those in peril. "Let's move! We need to stop him before he hurts anyone else."

Without another word, she sprinted forward, trusting that they would follow.

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Location: Cave - Elom
Time: Late Afternoon
Objective: I - Sith Pursuit
Dialogue Legend: <<Ghoul-Speak>> │ “Galactic Basic” │ <”ur-Kittât”>
Tag: Mnoi Akûti Mnoi Akûti

The towering warrior drew his vibrosword with a honed swiftness in answer to her counterattack. From there, the Sister watched closely as he caught the electrical blast with his blade—an impressive feat for any non-Forceful warrior due to the extreme speed it demanded given the lack of precognition, pushing the limits of reaction time and reflexes. Of more concern however was the fact that his blade seemed to absorb the electricity upon impact, before drawing it into a power cell or capacitor. In that regard, she had learned something new about her opponent, knowledge which might come into play later. Beyond any shadow of a doubt, he was enhanced above the limits of nature in some way, affording him the reaction time to deflect electrical attacks with relaxed ease. His vibrosword was also a potent factor with its ability to absorb electricity.

Then, there was his pistol.

This time, the Sister knew better than to try and block the incoming particle bursts. Immersing herself in the power of the dark side, the tiny electromancer harnessed it to supercharge her reflexes, before launching off her right foot in a dazzling blur of motion and darting eight meters to her right, evading the incoming particle bursts in the process. Throwing her tiny form into an acrobatic flip in order to break her momentum, upon landing, the electromancer locked her senses onto the warrior’s presence as the dark side swelled within her core like a wave forming amidst a stormy ocean. An instant later, raw electricity exploded out from both of her Claws in a blistering, unrelenting octet of staccato blasts from 22 meters away, each aimed to strike the warrior in his chest. She expected him to block them, but in doing so, the electromancer hoped that the raw, extreme power of the eight electrical blasts might compromise whatever power cell or capacitor was storing the energy inside his weapon. In her mind, it made sense that such devices had their limits when it came to the amount of energy they could safely store.

Perhaps if she was lucky, she could overload it and cause the vibrosword explode within his grasp.


 
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Objective II: Refugee Crisis
Vera Mina Vera Mina
"Come on!" Inanna groaned, hauling a refugee out of a bomb crater. The man was disoriented and bloody, but alive - and the medical station was just a couple of blocks away.

A couple of blocks filled with mines, enemy gunfire, and possibly a roving Sith Knight or two.

Inanna was already acutely aware of how much things had changed for her. She no longer had the incredible healing capacity which had enabled her to come back from otherwise mortal wounds, defying death. She had more to lose now, too. A family, a home, a life. Yet here she was, pulling refugees out of ditches and leading them across no man's land, determined to reach safety.

The group she had gathered consisted of roughly half a dozen people. "I'm scouting ahead," she announced. "You stay here and find somewhere to hide for now. If I'm not back in fifteen minutes..." She shrugged. If she didn't come back, these people were basically fethed.

So she would just have to come back.
 

CENTER]

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

She was attempting to drown him out, using the Force to prevent her from hearing his voice. He could counter and just make his voice echo inside her skull, but he decided to demonstrate his skills in the Force. If this Knight wanted to fight then she would feel the full Force of the Dark Side. He would make her realise that she was outmatched. Inhaling deeply, his body was filled with the Force, he was letting the Force flow through his whole body and he focused on his rage, his anger, his frustrations. He wasn't here to get held up by some weak Jedi Knight, he was here to demonstrate his powers, his strength. His right fist clenched as his body was enhanced through this Force Rage.

The attempt to slash at him was absorbed through the Force and blasted back at her, talents in Tutaminis allowed him to not fear such attacks. His yellow eyes were filled with dark hatred behind his mask. Those swords were an issue. One he knew how to solve. His mind focused as he used Shatterpoint to figure out the best way to target this Jedi and remove them as a threat. He held his Lightsaber in his left hand and shook his head, this Jedi was wishing to fight, to play.

It was childish in his mind.

He dashed forward, his body moving faster than it normally should as he swung his Lightsaber at her. Adopting a strong, aggressive Makashi style that he had Mastered over the years. His attempts to use Dominate Mind and break this Cathar were not abandoned. He continued to push and worm his way inside. Attempting to infect her memories and bonds she held dear as painful, miserable and laden with fear. "You are not a Jedi, you are merely a child seeking dreams of grandeur of a bygone era." His voice would echo inside her mind as his attacks came swift and harsh towards her.


 
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<< Confronting fear is the destiny of a Jedi, and you are equal to the task. >>
— Jedi Knight Lao-ta to Padawan Niynx Ioune, Temple Gardens
Niynx's lips quivered as he opened himself to the Force and stretched out with his mind. The Emperor's presence was gargantuan, a powerful, thrumming, pulsing miasma of dark sided influence. His casual command over the mystical arts belied the advanced nature of the techniques being employed.
"Confronting fear is the destiny of every Jedi," Niynx reminded himself, whispering as if to ward off evil.​
"And I am equal to the task."

Pressing out with his mind, Niynx embraced Padawan Holt in the Force, her presence like a flickering fire, sending her feelings of safety and warmth. The Lord discarded his robes to reveal dark, sorcerous armor beneath. Niynx grimaced, feeling a cold sweat begin at his temples. He reached for his lightsaber, the hilt of which was housed in the tooth of a slain predator and wrapped in silken bandages, and hefted the weapon before him. His thumb pressed into the activation nodule. And I am equal to the task.
"Master Noble," Niynx corrected, primly, "is the very embodiment of a successful rebellion to your esteemed Lordship. But if violence is the only language you'll speak... I'll do my best to follow along."

With a swift flick of his wrist and low-base tTthrRRUUuumm, Niynx's overlong green blade flared to life before him. Mindful of his breath, he parted his legs and sunk at the knees, running a hand through his bangs to push back the tide of unruly hair. And I am equal to the task.
 

"We've got Incoming!" The Togruta Jedi immediately sliced her katana through one of the incoming Sith as they charged into the fray. Planting her feet in the ground she channeled the Ashla through her body and into her blade, the intensity of her Katana's aura increasing as its glow grew brighter. She immediately began to cut down one of the Sith Spawn and use her blades to hold back the rest as they collapsed in on their position. If only they could-

Shani could immediately sense something was wrong, but that concern was confirmed when the Sithspawn began to divert away from herself and Jasper - charging beyond them to the other Jedi behind them. While they seemed to at least be able to hold their own, She knew that if the onslaught didn't end they still stood the chance of being overrun. A group of troopers started to engage the two Jedi before they could assist their friends - the blaster bolts filling the air surrounding them. That's when she could feel it - a sense of imminent danger, a fatal threat lurking in the shadows.

"Jasper Get dow-" Before she could finish her Sentence, the Togruta stabbed her Katana into the soil below them - channeling the force through her and erecting a barrier of force energy between the incoming threat and her partner, reading her Wazikashi to try and block any shots that came towards her.

 
How much will you endure?


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

Good.

Despite her words of venom, the Jedi persisted and even raised a barrier around his mind in an attempt to keep her out. Nyaeli would continue to push against this shield, while she enjoyed the challenge of slowly breaking him apart. Perhaps he'd keep her out for now, but as he'd grow exhausted or find himself weakening through battle, that control over his own mind would slowly slip away. It'd gradually open a path for her to invade, and she'd love nothing more than for him to slowly and painfully lose his sanity.

After turning towards the source of the Jedi's presence, Nyaeli finally spotted the Padawan, who stood quite a bit taller than she did, but his fear made him lose whatever imposing presence he'd otherwise maybe have. She stared him down, tracking his eyes towards the woman on the ground. He wanted to save her, she knew this, but she wasn't going to make that an easy task for the young Jedi.


"It pains you to see her like this, doesn't it?" Nyaeli asked with a grin of pure insanity. "It's hard to tell when you shield your mind against me, but I can still see it in your eyes." She raised her hand, and the woman began to scream while she held her head and thrashed it around. "But that pain is only the beginning." Her corrupted eyes turned to the woman, who had now risen up to her feet. Her helpless eyes had gone entirely blank, as if her soul had left her body. Slowly, she reached for the knife of the fallen man by Nyaeli's feet and turned to Shan.


"Kill him."

The woman screamed as if she was possessed, and raised her knife while she charged at the Padawan, her eyes full of bloodlust. It was generally not difficult to a Jedi to fight Sith, but how would they respond when the people they wanted to protect turned against them?


 

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Aliris jolted awake.

She remembered most of what had happened. The near death, the hands around her throat, the desire to live. The loss of her own body to the First. How was that even possible? The last she knew the First was gone. Were they actually not? All this time they'd just been hiding away in her, waiting for a moment to take over? She grimaced, reaching up to hug herself. It was terrifying. All of this was terrifying.

".. Braze."

That was the other thing she remembered. Braze. her blue eyes stared around the room, finally taking in where she was. A warm bed. Lavish designed. Pink. .. A tree. Who the hell had a tree in a bedroom? She was momentarily distracted trying to figure out who the hell had picked them up. Unless Braze was secretly exceedingly rich. That was a possibility, wasn't it? .. And she wasn't in pain, so.. She reached up, touching her neck. No pain. No bruising. Someone had healed her.

"Braze..? You, uh, here..?"

Braze Braze
 
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 Lao-ta

Tugging on the control sticks, Seela followed after the A-Wing as it rolled, then turned in a pair of defensive maneuvers. The maneuverability of the Lobeha Mwadu II made the task trivial in isolation, but thus far, the dogfight had been anything but easy. Seeing the A-Wing diving down towards a nearby valley, Seela pulled back on the control sticks to briefly bring her starfighter’s nose back into level flight, before pitching upward to initiate a sudden climb. A few seconds later, she pushed the control sticks forward to pitch the nose back down for a steep descent, the maneuver giving her an additional advantage in speed and energy over her rival.

Anything to retain the edge.

Now re-engaged in her pursuit, Seela’s gaze widened as her sensors briefly flickered in and out, only for them to return to normal operation a split-second later. With the impact of the missile against the floor of the valley, the strand-cast briefly contemplated following her quarry into the valley, but quickly decided against it due to the fact that there was little room for maneuvering within such a tight area. Instead, Seela chased the A-Wing from above, maintaining a pure pursuit vector relative to her target while flying over the valley, albeit still mirroring her rival’s lateral maneuvers in the process.

Before long, amidst the frenzy of jinks, turns, and rolls, a firing solution manifested itself.

Switching her beam cannons to the ionic module, Seela brought her starfighter into a slight descent and willed the weapons to fire for a half-second, unleashing a pair of lancing purple beams that were aimed to strike the fuselage of the enemy craft. Given their ionic characteristics, Seela hoped to disable the A-Wing’s shields and electronics so that the pilot might lose control and crash into the valley. The prolonged, continuous nature of the beams meant that they were instantaneous, so she didn’t need to aim ahead of her target. Even so, the strand-cast didn’t hesitate to pitch back up immediately after the attack.

If that didn’t work, Seela was more than willing to be patient. She sensed that it wouldn’t take long for another opportunity to present itself.


 
Shan froze at the side of Nyaeli. She hadn't been what he had been expecting. He had expected some kind of giant monster of a person but she was...smaller than he had expected. Though ironically, she might have been small in stature, but she was more imposing than Shan ever could have thought of being. But he couldn't let his mind wander on that. He had to stay focused, wrapping both of his hands around his saber and preparing to get into his Soresu. He had to try and stand his ground no matter what, and rescue the woman from Nyaeli.

It was clearly obvious to Nyaeli that Shan was focused on rescuing the woman and that it was his intent to try and rescue her from what Nyaeli had just said about the pain...but he shook his head, taking in a deep breath. Fear just meant he was alive. Pain meant the same. Clearing his focus once more, Shan just stared at Nyaeli, not knowing her plan yet. "It does pain me to see her like that. You're correct. But it also pains me to see you like that. It pains me to see anyone who is suffering." As much as he meant that from a place for kindness...He also knew a Sith probably would not like the idea of a Jedi showing them pity, no matter the situation.

Though his heart just sank as the woman rose to her feet and took the knife from Nyaeli. He could feel his breathing start to quicken, alongside a tightness in his chest. Fighting Nyaeli had been something he had been willing to risk. Even for his normally quite pacifist beliefs, he wouldn't hesitate to disarm a Sith, but with a civilian. That was a whole different problem. But he couldn't just stand there and let the woman stab him. It was like there were two sides of him, pulling to try and have him make a choice. Run. Escape. Go after the Sith. Disarm the woman. Knock her out. Use your fists. Each set of thoughts had their own merit and weight to them...

As he shot out towards the woman however, Shan had already came to his decision. This woman wasn't a professional fighter. Even if she was being brainwashed, or controlled through her fear, she still wouldn't be as experienced as an actual fighter. So he reached out to the woman's hand with the knife, to try and hold it still. Disengaging his saber at the same time, letting it slide down so his fingers could hook around the belt loop of the hilt. He had to remind himself, any pain he'd cause the woman would be nowhere near as bad as what Nyaeli could cause. Physical pain can be healed easily. Mental, not so much. It was the lesser of the two evils, as he swung the metal and wooden hilt of his saber right atop the woman's wrist in an attempt to break the wrist and disarm her. Then with a backhand swung, Shan brought the hilt up towards the woman's jaw. Hopefully the woman had a glass jaw...Shan also made a mental note to apologise to the woman afterwards...if the pair of them even survived that is.

Nyaeli Nyaeli
 
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All his life, the Sith Pureblood as been bullied and ridiculed for being born different. He could not use the Force, and his coloring was too "human." Even his own mother had abandoned him, never even giving him a name. "Mnoi Akûti" was what people had called him. Blue Eyes. He'd taken that moniker as his own name to be a constant reminder just how despicable the Sith are, along with anyone who takes that name. He had survived as a child on his own in the frozen wastelands of Ziost. He had pushed himself to get stronger, faster. He had to, between the elements of nature and his own people who looks down him, both wanted him dead. But he had fought back, and would continue to do so.

The small Sith woman dodge his pistol shots, evading each with presumably Force-enhanced agility. None hit, but they still had the intended effect of temporarily pushing her onto the defensive. There were even a few of the braver refugees who started to inch closer to the mouth of the cave to escape. But then suddenly, she hurled several more bolts of lightning at him, this time a lot more accurately. Mnoi didn't think, he simply let his body move instinctively, bringing the blade down and arcing it forward to catch the bolts like a lightning rod. Either she had paid no head to the fact that his sword could easily absorb the energy, or she assumed she could overload it with a lot of energy. Unfortunately for her, she would assume incorrectly. The energy would simply be looped back into the blade, constantly powering it.

However, this was way more energy than the sword had absorbed before, and something completely unexpected happened. The energy seemed to supercharge the weapon, causing the humming sound to grow louder and ring out with an icy "shshshshsh" sound. The temperature had already dropped inside the cave as soon as he drew the sword, but now it started to chill much more rapidly.

Well, this is new, Mnoi thought to himself. The refugees closest to him who had started trying to escape were now slumping over and shivering from the sheer cold. If he'd not had on his protective gauntlets, it probably would have frozen his hand solid. He quickly holstered his pistol, held the sword with both hands, and leapt toward the shorter Sith. He gave a heavy swing, attempting to bring the chilling blade down upon the woman as the temperature inside the cave continued to plummet.
 

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"Fascinating."

Kahlil's gaze stayed up on the ships as they approached. For the most part, his runes went undeterred. Using his version against the Sith usually surprised and overwhelmed them. They weren't prepared for someone who knew how their own Sorcery worked from the inside out. But some were better still at at least adapting. Like in one of the shuttles that wasn't brought down from the lack of their engines.

He didn't so much as flinch as Valery dealt with the crashing shuttle. Leave it to the Sith to turn their allies into disposable weapons. It brought a frown to his face. This was the life he'd left behind so long ago. How many of his own troopers had he used as disposable when he was still part of that Empire? This Empire. They were one and the same.

"Rocket troopers. Cover me for a moment?"

He flashed a grin towards the Sword. There was no point in holding on to the past, right? Those were her words. He didn't wait for an answer. They knew each others intentions right away. A hand once more raised towards their foes. All around he could feel them. Lethal intent, feverish loyalty. Ah. Rajakzânkut. Those he missed least of all. With Valery acting briefly as his shield, he brought his hand down.

The Force reacted. All at once those that were flying were no longer. He held nothing back. They weren't people. They could not be saved from what they were born as. His Father had made sure of that. There was a crack as they met the ground, crushed under the sheer intensity Kahlil brought down. <There are more. And they will kill themselves if it means taking us down.>

Kahlil reached down, calmly taking up his saber to ignite the green blade as his gaze fell upon the approaching Sith. They at least knew not to waste their time sending their soldiers to their deaths.

"We will not give chase if you flee. We will take you in if you surrender. But if you stay and fight, there will be no such mercy. This is your only warning." He lifted his blade, shifted his stance. Soresu, through and through. But gone was the calm smile or carefree grin. Instead, there was an intensity to his gaze and a simple, thin line of concentration.

<Let them approach.> He didn't need to explain why. Around them, written all across the ground were various runes he'd placed. Simple traps. Freeze. Stasis. Dampen. He would leave it to them to trigger such things. For now, this was his battlefield.

Valery Noble Valery Noble | Darth Nwul Darth Nwul | Darth Caedes Darth Caedes | Kyraj Kyraj | Elmindra Xitaar Elmindra Xitaar
 

Wake grit his teeth as they crashed their way through walls and superstructure to arrive at their destination. The ship rattling and creaking, his head bouncing around, he sensed the pilots ahead of him die sudden and painful deaths. Nature running its course he supposed. He glanced at Caedes as the ship came in for a landing and slipped to his feet, the thrill of using the dark-side so thoroughly already triggering a bit of that mad glint in his eyes. Wake took a shuddering breath of excitement and let the emotions flow through into his inner crucible, rather than into his mind.

He relaxed as the boarding ramp fell open, shoving his hands into his pockets he smiled at the battlefield. It was chaos, he didn't mind chaos, nature was chaotic, but it felt to him like a few warriors on both sides were enjoying themselves. And wasn't that enough in the end? His lip twitched as Caedes began to draw power from the very air, consuming the turmoil of the battlefield. Such a broad reach! Wake raised his eyebrows, he'd have to get to that point some day. Perhaps when he had time to digest the well over a hundred minds he'd consumed back on Korriban. Alas, no rest for the wicked he supposed.

Caedes gave his order and Wake fell back a few paces, remaining behind his mentor and between the others. In a hand-to-hand fight he was probably the weakest among them. He could eat all the Jedi swordmasters in the galaxy but it wouldn't change his muscle memory or physique. It would take a great deal of time to build up his body into something that could handle it, or figure out a way to by pass the training and effort with the force. Either way, he wasn't there yet. Still, he at least had his weapons. A lightsaber taken from an Ashlan defender and a sith warblade from the pirates. He left the warblade on his waist and drew out the lightsaber. With a snap-hisss the blade, corrupted from witnessing the consumption of over a hundred souls, extended from its housing. Instead of a sapphire blue, it came out a haunting white-blue, pale smoke rising from the blade.

He switched into a defensive Soresu form, drawing the blade close and eyeing their surroundings. He spread his senses out to within just beyond cutting range, ready to lash out if that sphere was broken. With his preparations complete, his wide smile cracked his face as he peered out in the direction of the mighty Jedi leaders. "Another meeting with such a personage, My Lord you take me to all the nice places, don't you?" Wake laughed.

Wake's eyes widened when he heard the voice in the distance. Another voice he was familiar with from his formative years as a padawan. The Khalil Noble? Both Nobles were here? Incredible! The thrill of the moment was enough to send a shock of joy and excitement through him. He feasted on it, savoring it, and leveled his gaze directly at Valery, past her husband. He didn't say anything, he didn't need to. The words going unspoken; 'Miss me?'.

Darth Caedes Darth Caedes Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble Valery Noble Valery Noble Kyraj Kyraj Elmindra Xitaar Elmindra Xitaar
 
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Elom
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Outfit: Factory Link | Wedding Ring
Appearance: Link
Weapons:
Lightsabers
Tag: Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble Darth Caedes Darth Caedes Kyraj Kyraj Darth Nwul Darth Nwul Elmindra Xitaar Elmindra Xitaar

He didn't need to ask her a second time.

Even before he voiced his question, Valery already knew what he was planning to do, as intent flowed instantly through their bond. The Sith troopers that were coming down at them from above were monsters, but manipulated even more by the Sith who were on their way to confront the Sword and Shield as well. They could not hesitate or even hope to sway them from their paths — any form of inaction would be severely punished by these Sith machinations

So rather than wait and try to stop them with words, Valery allowed Kahlil to act as Sword, while she switched into his role of shield. Both her hands began to rise, so by the time the first blaster bolts began to rain down on them, a barrier of Force energy was in the way to absorb the impact. It wouldn't hold forever against sustained enemy fire, but it didn't need to — Kahlil already summoned the Force to bring them all down.

<I won't hesitate,> she told him in response to his warning about these soldiers. She then flashed him one final grin before she turned her fiery gaze forward, as their true enemies approached. 4 Sith in total, their strength in the Force varying greatly, but each one had that similar stain on the Force she was trained to cleanse from the Galaxy.

Today would be no different.

An intense glare from Valery shifted between the 4 sith, as both her lightsabers ignited and her body shifted into a far more aggressive stance. Not that she planned to initiate the fight, though — she was coordinated with her husband, and waited for them to make their move.


<I'm ready.>


 




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LOCATION: Aboard the Exonerator
TAGS:
Aliris Tremiru Aliris Tremiru
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Ali awakened in a bedroom that embodied the epitome of luxury, aesthetic beauty, and comfort. The plushness of the bed welcomed her, enveloping her in a cocoon of softness. The air carried a delicate, natural scent of fresh florals, a symphony of fragrances emanating from the various plants adorning the room. The flowering cherry tree and roses transformed the space serving as living artworks, their vibrant blooms serving as exquisite centerpieces and focal points throughout the room. Soft pink hues intermingled with accents of pristine white and opulent gold, creating an ambiance of timeless elegance.

Initially alone in the grandiose room, Ali's movements and stirrings triggered a subtle response. The large view port comprising the ceiling became alive, scintillating with dimmed lights, gradually brightening as if in harmony with her awakening. The room maintained a comfortable temperature, a stark contrast to the biting cold winds she had experienced outside the ship's safety.

Artistry intertwined with functionality, adorning every object within the room. A tea set sat delicately on the nightstand, emitting a semblance of warmth and steam, indicating its freshly brewed state. The sweet scent of citrus accompanied the hot tea set, where a cinnamon-infused blend of tea awaited her. Adjacent to it rested a resplendent crystal bowl, akin to a decanter, filled with an array of brightly colored candies, tempting the senses with their vibrant hues.

As Ali surveyed the room, she couldn't help but notice its impeccable cleanliness, almost unnervingly so. It resembled the grand suite of a luxury ship, complete with a private bathroom. A substantial vanity adorned with crystal beads and gems held an assortment of delicately crafted perfume bottles, each containing a unique scent that ranged from floral to sweet. Several decorative candles, pristine and untouched, added a touch of romantic ambiance, despite their unused state.

Apart from the bathroom and a spacious walk-in closet, which presently housed three elegant evening gowns, three matching clutches, and three pairs of exquisite shoes, there was one slightly ajar door leading to a corridor. Across from her room, another door remained partially open.

Despite being alone in the room, Ali couldn't shake the increasingly familiar sense of a Force presence, resonating with the perfect combination to match Braze's distinctive Force signature nearby, unguarded and unshielded. The invisible thread connecting them tugged at her senses, heightening the feelings of anticipation and curiosity about their reunion.


As Aliris surveyed the opulent room, a myriad of questions filled her mind, swirling with uncertainty and curiosity. How had they ended up here, away from the battlefield and the chaos that had consumed their lives? What had transpired to lead them to this haven of comfort and beauty? The mystery of their journey hung in the air, begging to be unraveled. It seemed almost surreal, a tantalizing enigma that begged for answers. What had befallen Braze and Aliris to bring them to this refuge, shielded from the horrors they had witnessed?

Yet amidst the comfort, beauty, and inviting embrace of the room, an eerie contrast lingered in the air. The serenity within those walls clashed starkly with the backdrop of horror, death, and terror unfolding not too far away on the battlefield. It was as if the room existed in a separate realm, shielded from the harsh realities of the outside world. The juxtaposition of tranquility and chaos, of warmth and coldness, served as a poignant reminder of the fragile nature of existence. The dichotomy was unsettling, a reminder that moments of respite were fleeting, and the resounding echoes of conflict and suffering could not be silenced indefinitely.

Yet, even in the midst of the tranquility and comfort, an unsettling undercurrent tugged at Aliris' senses. The disturbance in the Force, like an echoing whisper, persisted, reminding her that the battle continued to rage outside these walls. The clash of lightsabers, the thunderous explosions, and the cries of pain and anguish permeated the air, creating an unsettling contrast to the serenity within. It was a constant reminder that their respite was temporary, that the forces of darkness and destruction still held sway. The ominous presence of the ongoing battle weighed on Aliris...
 

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