Junction Storm Chasers || SO and HR Junction of Moorja and Terrijo

[Connel Vanagor]

DECEPTION
Moorja
Spire

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  
  • "Enterprise" Station Ship
  • The Starlight Sentinel
  • "Jedi Defender" Corvette
  • Null Vector
  • X-wing
  • Speeder
  • Speederbike
  • Iron Psalm
  Gear/Armor
  
  
  • Mask
  • Right Gauntlet
  • Left Gauntlet
  • Nano-Tech Armor (For Emergencies)
  • Headset Microphone Comm-Link
  • Mobile "Bodycam" Datapad
  • Lightblaster
  • Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
  • Throwing Lightknives
  • Force Blinding Flashbangs
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  
  • Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  • Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  • Muscle enhancements.
  • Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  • Hawkeye implants for eyes
  • Advanced Medical Implant
  • Scentzy
  • Injected Nanotech upgrades
  
  
  
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

Moorja – Peripheral Districts / Transit Convergence

Connel felt it. Not Jax’s panic. Not fear.

Decision.

A vector shift in the Force like a blade changing angle mid-strike. Jax was moving fast. Good. Connel didn’t need to see him to know what that meant. The speeder’s wake tore through the currents like a comet. Carnifex would feel that too.

Which meant interception. Which meant bottlenecks. Which meant… obstacles. Connel pivoted.

He didn’t chase Jax. He moved around him.

The negotiation complex sat at the center of Moorja’s transit web. Every major corridor, every lift artery, every aerial approach fed toward it. If Carnifex wanted control, he would tighten the ring. If Jax wanted confrontation, he would head straight for the throat.

Connel?

Connel would sever the nerves.

He vaulted a maintenance barrier and dropped into a lower tram junction already swarming with Sith troopers repositioning toward the spire and the negotiation chamber. He didn’t announce himself. A lightknife embedded into a junction relay box. He fired the lightblaster into the tram’s control node. The vehicle derailed with a screaming shower of sparks, sliding sideways and blocking the corridor entirely.

Troopers scattered.

Connel didn’t linger. He picked up a trooper’s fallen rifle and foraged for a couple of powercells.

He ignited “Dawn’s Light” and cut the support struts of an overhead walkway just as a platoon began to cross.

Metal shrieked.

The walkway collapsed in controlled ruin.

Not killing.

Crippling.

Separating.

Delay.

He moved through smoke like a rumor. He climbed. Maintenance ladders. Ventilation shafts. Service scaffolding. The city was vertical. So was war. From a rooftop vantage, he saw it clearly: Speeder patrols vectoring toward Jax’s path. Heavy assault units establishing a perimeter near the negotiation tower.

Aerial drones locking onto heat signatures. He drew the last four lightknives. One after another, he hurled them into rooftop sensor clusters and drone hubs. Each detonation was precise. Eyes went blind. Routes went dark.

Confusion spread.

Below, a speeder squadron accelerated to intercept Jax. Connel leapt. He landed on the last speeder mid-formation. The rider barely had time to turn before “Windu’s Guile” severed the steering assembly. The speeder veered sideways and collided with the next in line.

A chain reaction.

Fire.

Chaos.

Connel rolled off the wreckage before it exploded, hit the pavement, and kept moving. No speeches. No witnesses now. Just momentum.

Near the negotiation complex, Sith Acolytes formed a defensive crescent at the base entrance. They weren’t guarding the building. They were guarding access. Connel approached from the side alley. He holstered the lightblaster.

Both sabers ignited.

No restraint now.

Not against execution squads. Not against defensive phalanxes meant to isolate Jax. The first Acolyte saw him too late. A precise cross-cut ended the formation’s anchor. The second attempted a Force shove. Connel absorbed it, sliding back a half step, then threw his saber in a tight arc.

The blade sheared through two hilts before snapping back to his palm.

Troopers poured from side doors. He moved into them.

Close.

Brutal.

Economical.

A saber strike to a thigh. A reverse pommel strike to a visor. A shoulder charge that sent a trooper through a transparasteel window. The street filled with smoke and sparks. He didn’t pursue fleeing enemies, he picked up their dropped powercells, and grenades.

He didn’t hunt.

He dismantled.

When the last of them retreated toward the complex interior, Connel stepped into the open plaza and ignited one final act of disruption. He fired the lightblaster into the building’s exterior power conduits. Emergency suppression systems activated. Floodlights flickered. Interior elevators stalled.

Reinforcements inside would now be rerouting on foot.

Slower.

Messier.

Human. Exactly how Carnifex would hate it.

He stood in the center of the plaza, breathing steady. Above, lightning flickered across Moorja’s sky. Through the Force, he felt it clearly now: Jax closing. Carnifex waiting. Jairdain holding.

The currents narrowed. The arena was forming. Connel did not enter it.

He stepped backward instead. Into shadow. Into rooftop line-of-sight positions.

Into overwatch.

Trust.

But verify. Anyone who tried for those two would have to get through him...

... and they would NOT get through him.

If Carnifex tried to collapse the building. If reinforcements attempted to overwhelm Jax mid-duel.

If collateral threatened civilians inside—Connel would intervene violently.

Not to steal the fight.

To ensure it remained a fight.

He extinguished his sabers. The plaza dimmed. Somewhere within the negotiation complex, a massive presence shifted in anticipation. Carnifex probably thought he had orchestrated this.

He probably believed the son had come alone. He probably believed the bloodline would resolve itself.

He did not yet understand something critical. Jax may be his son, but Jax was still a “Vanagor” as well. That may not mean as much, but something it did mean was much more important.

The Vanagor line does not duel for dominance.

It safeguards the perimeter.

~You’re clear, “drunky”... kick his teeth in!~

Ala Quin • Jairdain Ismet-Thio • Jax Thio • Feng Huang • Darth Carnifex • Balun Arenais-Dashiell • TAGS • ARE • OPEN
Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Cerys Dyn]

Her eyes blurred with tears. Eira's verbal assault brought her to distraction. And as she fought to blink away the tears, Eira advanced.

It took a moment longer than it should have to realize she was being attacked. Cerys brought her lightsaber around, blocking the first blow, and retreating behind a full table of fish. The pace of her retreat saw her knock the table, and a crate of salmon that spilled over the ground between Eira and Cerys.

"Stop! I do not want to hurt you," Cerys said, holding her blade straight towards Eira, hopefully insuring some distance.

Distance, she needed distance. Crouching, Cerys let the Force build for a moment, before jumping to a metal girder above Eira.

She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. And looked about her just for a moment, seeking some way to escape this greatest of hells.

Eira Dyn​

 

[Helix]

Objective: Investigate
Equipment: Himself
Tags: Eloise Dinn /OPEN
​

Helix watched as a thousand private little dramas played out between the two forces. Some fought simply because that was the way of things. Happenstance, coincidence, or just following orders. For a few others, it was more personal than that. He saw at least a handful of reunions, private grudge matches between old acquaintances who now found themselves on opposite sides.

With luck, the Jedi might kill off some of their opponents for once. Helix kept an internal list of Sith who might prove a problem in the future. It was a very short list, with a number of names he could count on one hand. Some were here, some were not. Nonetheless, having someone else do one's work for one was always a pleasant surprise, when it happened.

With the absurdly pleased comfort usually known only to avid sports fans watching their team perform well, Helix settled into his chair, relaxing his body even as his consciousness spread wider and wider. He could get used to this. Perhaps more impersonal than a direct fight, but there was a certain smug joy in watching it all play out for one's viewing pleasure. Regardless of who won the day, he won too.

Not for the first time, Helix was very grateful that his senses were not limited to the nodes his body generated. It might strain a lesser being to observe and process so much information at once, but for him, it was simplicity itself. There was a great deal going on, and Helix intended to miss none of it.

All the while, he dedicated a tiny portion of his consciousness to siphoning credits. It was like getting paid to watch a holodrama. Although...

He dimly detected something there, something investigating him in a sly and experienced manner. It didn't come as a surprise. For his part, Helix was not trying especially hard (if at all) to conceal his location. Part of him trusted in the general chaos to go unnoticed, another part hoped someone might come and disturb his little party, directly or indirectly. He decided not to prevent their snooping, in the interest of learning more. He began subtly searching for the source in turn, though in a place this large, it was like seeking the proverbial needle in a haystack.

At least this way, he wouldn't have to creatively embellish his after-action report.

 

[Gavin Restur]

Equipment: Dual Blaster Pistols, Forcepike, Rocket Boots, Rebreather + Tubes, Misc.
TAGS: Aurelian Veruna , Corazona von Ascania , Mercy , Glissara
​

["If there is blood on this coat, Gavin, it is coming out of your payment."]

"W-...hey now, let's not be rash." He can take being scolded. He can take being insulted. But his credits? His credits? Now that was crossing a line. And also because his bank account has been down in the dumps recently, so he really needs payment. Though, his worries were quickly dispelled almost as quickly as they formed.

["That was adequate."]

It's almost enough to make a grown man blush. But, that'd be weird. So, he just settled for giving an affirming nod to Aurelian Veruna , instead. "Oh, don't mention it. Just doin' my job." His gaze went to the small crowd of guild members that surrounded the small group, alongside Corazona von Ascania . Keeping his hands close to his blasters, just in case someone tried being smart.

["We are not here alone. We find the Chancellor. And my Voice of the Houses."]

["Our priority is you, Aurelian."]

Glancing between the other two are they talked. "...She does have a point."

["We get you out, first. Then the other-"]

A sudden CRASH rudely interrupted the conversation the three were having, as Mercy busted through the wall in front of them as if the trio owed her money. With Cora's wave of a hand, he was shoved back and away from any potential harm from debris, skidding on the floor alongside Aurelian. After a very brief moment to recollect his bearings, there was a look ahead towards the one who busted down the wall, brows lifting. He's willing to bet that it was her making all that ruckus.

["Gavin, get Aurelian out of here."]

"No complaints from me." Hastily scrambling up to his feet, as he assisted Aurelian up as well. "Let's get the hell out of here." With that, he started booking it towards the nearest exit that didn't have an enemy in front of it.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Jedi Knight, deprived of legs, attempted to prop herself up with her hands. She only got far enough to look up at the death and destruction around her before she was seized and dragged, deposited before the man who had so callously dismembered her. She looked up, His towering form looming over her; His shadow engulfing her utterly. She had never known such fear before, she thought that the Jedi teachings would've been enough to stave this terror seizing her heart...

But it was all in vain.

He reached down and seized her by the throat, pulling her up so that she was eye level with Him. She had no alternative but to face the monster, her eyes drawn unbidden into His magnetic gaze. All of her resistance melted away, not through any trickery of the Force, but through the sheer, unflinching will she had been set against. Her body went limp as her mind fractured from the horror, eyes glazing over as she fell into the deep embrace of the Dark Side.

She landed with a dull thump as the Dark Lord cast her aside, her body immediately set upon by robed acolytes. "Take her to the workshop, we'll find some use for her," was His only decree. The acolyte obeyed, carrying the girl away.

Darth Carnifex reached out with His feelings, sensing the various currents of energy that pervaded the spire. One among them drew His immediate attention, almost bringing a smile to His stoic features. So, the boy had finally come. It was a confrontation long in the making, born of necessity and desperation more than righteous conviction. The Dark Lord understood why, His guest had been trying her best to shield herself and the others from Him all this time. But it had always been for naught.

"I see you, little one. If you present yourself now, I will spare those you protect."

Jairdain Ismet-Thio | Jax Thio | Balaya Praelior Zambrano
Connel Vanagor | Ala Quin | Balun Arenais-Dashiell
Feng Huang | Vulpesen | Darth Nefaron
Veradun Sharr ​

 

[Balaya Praelior Zambrano]

Allies: Darth Carnifex
Enemies: Jairdain Ismet-Thio Jax Thio Connel Vanagor

She watched it as the people were huddled around a singular person. Defending them as the wendol moved around and Balaya didn't rush as she moved. her steps calculated in the darkness the jedi had created. Lights out but she could see and feel where they were as her voice came out for a moment. "Jediiii. Oh jedi..." She said it while moving and let her voice reverberate around more then she was making it menacing. Almost sing song like and lulling before she looked with a small head turn. The jedi was protecting them but she had to move to distract and fight the wendol while the large zeltron walked. Her armor moving smoothly before she reached out and grabbed a delegate by the wrist. "Oh hello." She said it and did two things. her taloned finger moving along the wrist as she traced small runes with the molecular edge into the flesh.

The fresh scent of blood as it welled up came but it was quickly healed with the force. The delegate pulling their armor back and from her grip as if she had burned him in that moment. The reaction much stronger and more visceral as she grinned to herself. She looked at the one there for a moment though as the snap-hiss came, purple and red light pulsing as the sabers blade was illuminating the area and casting light over her skin. The grin thin as a knifes edge but showing all of the malicious humor while she looked at the woman. "ANd who are you, being so cruel to my little beastie. It does have some kinks to work out. Should have brought something more tested but well doubt any will survive to report their inadequacies." Her humor never faltered while the taloned fingers of her glove held the blades hilt.

The small headband of her armor gleaming aurodium as she looked towards one of the others who had been huddling and spoke. Her voice changing for a moment. "Such fear, such a poor unfortunate soul." She was directing it towards the woman as she looked up for a moment and the Wendol staggered but looked more fearful as it was backing away. Balaya's eyes remaining on Jairdain but her headbands artifact was directed towards the woman as she slipped a small segment of her knuckle blade off with a kick. "I can protect you, let you leave here. No fear you just need to make a choice. Stab the one with you in her face or cower in fear and hope my monsters don't find you." She said it and imposed in her words more force and willpower amplified by the sith artifact for subjugating lesser wills.

"Don't blink jedi, don't want the others to take my offer. We only have the one position available." Her eyes flicked around at the others who were there as she felt the runes. She didn't need to laugh just let it hang there as her movements were accelerated. The cloak of her armor detaching as the terentatek hide muffling parts of her force presence and controlling the armors signature was cast away. The force energies making her muscles bulk more. The pink flesh tightening while veins were like black cables. The open taloned gauntlet of her free hand gleaming when she surged forward. The spiked heel digging into the floor and making an impact dimple. Her saber hand staying straight as she adjusted only for the height of her opponent. Red hair flying behind like a curtain to frame her when the compressed illerium sounded.

The thigh highs of her boots gleaming when the knees release twin barbs with a small illerium explosion. Directed like for sending escape pods at high speeds away and tied into her boots like the rest of the weapons of her armor. The jiggle activating the akure implants to accelerate the barbs trying for Jairdains neck with a repulse. Rave and Velok knew what they had developed when they made them and the zeltron allowed her free hand to release to the left a microflashbang. Her walking armory designed for this before she was allowing the saber to finally adjust for a slash to the right of it. The force speeding up her movements and reaction times for the few heartbeats as the blood began to pump faster and stronger in her ears. The crystal of her choker gleaming with golden darkside energies channeled from the carnage around as she drew it in.

 

[Darth Nefaron]

ALLIED TAGS: Veradun Sharr , Darth Carnifex , Helix
ENEMY TAGS: Balun Arenais-Dashiell , Ala Quin , Jax Thio , Connel Vanagor

The Terror Lord said nothing more to his Apprentice, but he offered a look.

Hunt.

The boy was Sith. The Dark Side would guide him to his foe.
​

It did the same for Darth Nefaron as well, for he had taken great care to target one who was perfect for his terrible scheme. While it would indeed be quiet the triumph bring the Grandmaster to Anoat to be broken, such a thing would ensure a fresh assault on Nefaron's fortress-world. But a humble Padawan? Would the High Republic send so many to their deaths for one man?

Navigating the ongoing slaughter, the Corpse Lord moved like a flash, a mere shadow against the wall, as he let the Dark Side take hold to bring him to his foe. No doubt the Jedi would split up to ensure they could save the greatest number of lives, and perhaps that was the Sith's plan all along. But then again, when did the Sith cooperate to do anything? If they were truly united, they would have focused all their attention on Naboo's monarch, for he would make a valuable prize and ensure a dominant position in any ongoing negotiations. Neffaron himself could have chosen to settle an old score with the Kinslayer of Ukatis, but he would have far more fun watching her spiral into madness.

So, despite himself, he stuck to his own plan and targeted the humble Padawan. When the Sith Lord had finally found his way to his prey, he could sense the perfidious light radiating off him, its power great indeed.

But it was nothing before the power of the Dark Side.
​

Rather than words, the Corpse Lord let his lightsaber do the talking as it slipped from the sleeve of his cloak and flew like a blaster bolt toward the screen the Padawan was fixed upon. The crimson blade burned through the screen, utterly destroying it as Nefaron slipped into the control room. Behind him, the doors sealed as the Sith remained in control of the tower's systems, though who knew for how much longer.

"They will die, boy. Our trap has been laid, and they now stumble into it."

Of course, Nefaron was bluffing. More than likely, the Padawan's companions would succeed in their quest. But he was the one who had stumbled into the trap, and now it was time to see what this student of the Grandmaster could do.

"But you need not die with them. Your path to the Dark Side begins today, and I-"

Nefaron's lightsaber retracted from the security monitor and flew back to his waiting hand. The Dark Lord's lipless maw twisted into a smile as his crimson blade was held off to one side. He did not need to kill the boy; he only needed to push him until he gave in.

"I will be your guide. But please, do come and do your duty. Strike me down, perhaps your master will make you a Knight?"

The Corpse Lord laughed at the thought.

"Or maybe I shall bring her your head? She is so concerned for you, Balun."​

 

[Eira Dyn]

Armour Mode: ASSASSIN
Equipment: Marwolaeth Ddu, Lethal Pursuers, Vibrosword, Blaster Pistol
Allies: TSO
Opposition: Cerys Dyn

Cerys was fleeing, she was running away and she was demonstrating why Eira was correct. The Jedi were weak. They were cowards. Creating more harm in their pathetic attitudes than doing any good. They were a virus on the galaxy and Eira was all the more happy to eradicate them and ensure no one else suffered from Jedi weakness like she had to endure. "It is fine if you do not wish to fight, Cerys."

Her gaze looked up at the higher grounding that Cerys fled to. Eira growled deeply. Cowardice.

Reaching up, the Sith Acolyte gripped the metal girder with the Force. Increasing pressure around the metal till it was creaking and breaking, Eira was using the Dark Side to crush the girder and force Cerys back down on the ground. Leaping up to join her sister was far too dangerous and while Cerys was saying she would not attack. Jedi lied.

"I will kill you. You are a weakness and you must be wiped out. All Jedi must be wiped out!" Eira growled darkly, "I don't need you to fight. Just die!"

 

[Sven Halestorm]

Lily Decoria | Darth Strosius | Lina Ovmar

The Chancellor’s voice cut through the city like a blade drawn clean from its sheath.

Evacuate Moorja at once.

Sven did not flinch.

He had expected confirmation. The Force had already whispered it to him in uneasy currents, the tightening of fear in the crowds, the strained silence of the landing channels, the peculiar stillness beneath the chaos. Now it had a name.

Sith.

He moved at a measured pace, neither sprinting nor hesitating, robes flowing behind him as the spire of the Moorja Landing Tower rose ahead like a finger accusing the sky. Around him, panic began to ripple outward in earnest. Citizens scrambled toward transports that would not answer. Pilots shouted into dead comms. A pair of security officers argued beside a grounded shuttle whose ramp refused to seal.

Sven’s expression remained composed, though his senses stretched wide.

The Force churned.

It was not the blind rage of open battle, no clash of sabers, no explosion close enough to rattle bone. This was subtler. Coordinated. A net drawn tight around the world.

He reached the base of the tower and slowed.

The main entrance doors, thick durasteel, polished and official, stood sealed. No guards outside. No technicians. No movement behind the narrow reinforced viewport.

He extended his senses inward.

Life.

Several signatures, clustered higher up, anxious, restrained, confused. Not combatants. Not aggressors.

Trapped.

Sven placed a calm hand against the access panel beside the door. The interface was dark, its internal systems severed from the network. No manual override responded to his touch.

Of course not.

“They would not rely solely on slicing,” he murmured quietly to himself, voice steady as a still pond. “Redundancy is the hallmark of those who prefer control.”

He stepped back.

His hand moved to his belt.

The hilt of his lightsaber felt reassuringly familiar against his palm, an extension of discipline rather than aggression. With a soft snap-hiss, blue light sprang to life, casting a serene glow against the tower’s metallic façade.

The blade hummed, steady and patient.

Sven regarded the sealed entrance for a brief moment, as though giving it one final opportunity to reconsider its stubbornness.

“I do apologize,” he said mildly.

Then he pressed the blade to the seam where the two durasteel doors met.

Molten metal hissed and ran in bright rivulets as he guided the saber downward in a deliberate, controlled line. The scent of scorched alloy filled the air. He did not rush the cut. Precision now would prevent collapse later. A second vertical line followed, then a horizontal arc near the base.

The Force flowed through him, not in fury, but in clarity.

Each movement was economical. Each breath measured.

As the final cut completed its path, Sven deactivated the blade and stepped aside. With a gentle telekinetic pull, he urged the weakened section forward.

The heavy slab of durasteel groaned and toppled inward with a thunderous crash.

Heat shimmered in the air as he crossed the threshold into the dim interior of the tower.

Emergency lighting flickered red along the walls. The lift systems were inactive. Consoles downstairs were dark, cables severed cleanly.

Sabotage.

He ignited his saber once more, not for combat, but illumination.

Above him, through layers of metal and circuitry, he could feel the frightened cluster of tower officials, alive, but cut off from the world.

Sven began ascending the emergency stairwell two steps at a time, calm despite the urgency pressing at his back.

The Force tightened again.

Not merely sabotage.

Expectation.

As though someone, somewhere, had anticipated this response.

He did not allow the thought to sour his composure.

His grip on the saber remained relaxed but ready.

Above, the trapped souls waited.

Below, Moorja trembled.

And somewhere within the unseen machinery of this trap, darkness watched.

 

[Syreeta Ming]

Ever since her time on Harterra had come to an end, Syreeta had drifted. Any faction aligned with the Light, and which was willing to have her, would find in Syreeta an ally. The largest Light Sided faction today was the High Republic - and so Syreeta found herself on Moorja, fighting the Sith and rescuing their captives.

As she led a group of Republic delegates to a swift and secure escape, her attention was drawn elsewhere. A Jedi Knight and Padawan were dueling against a great and terrible evil. She flinched as she sensed their pain through the Force. Once the delegates were safely aboard an evac transport, Syreeta raced toward the source of the Dark Side she felt.

She arrived too late to save the Padawan, whose corpse lay on the floor, missing its head. The Jedi Knight had been dismembered, her legs cut off at the knees, but she was still alive. Alive, but in the clutches of a Dark Lord so vile he no longer seemed human.

Syreeta's focus narrowed down to the Knight, all other distractions falling away. She was not that far from her days in the Cult, where she had been forcibly converted and assimilated into the Dark Side. Perhaps that was why the sight of another woman being brutalized by a Sith Lord struck her to the very heart.

She landed with a dull thump as the Dark Lord cast her aside, her body immediately set upon by robed acolytes. "Take her to the workshop, we'll find some use for her," was his only decree. The acolyte obeyed, carrying the girl away.

"No!"

Syreeta thrust out her hand, seizing the Jedi Knight's body with the Force. A protective bubble encircled her form, floating it away from the Sith and towards her. At the same time, Syreeta clenched her other fist, knocking away the acolytes with a burst of telekinetic force.

Jairdain Ismet-Thio Jax Thio Balaya Praelior Zambrano Darth Carnifex Connel Vanagor​

 

[Lily Decoria]

Location: Moorja
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Equipment: Arwr Da, Hydrangea Moonblade (concealed)
Ally: Sven Halestorm
Opposition: Darth Strosius | Lina Ovmar

As the pair arrived at the base of the tower, Lily watched as Sven went silent and decided to make the moves to open the door with his Lightsaber. Not communicating with Lily what was going on. It was an odd decision but Lily decided that she would just keep guard, she was not a deft hand with tech so it made sense that any issues with doors or attempts to solve it would be handled by someone other than herself while she ensured to keep Sven safe from attacks. Lily knew that she could sense dangers surrounding all around them.

Some void creatures, bathed in the Dark Side. It was fine since Lily activated the cyan blade of her Lightsaber and the Light Side energy coming from Lily, from Arwr Da, pushed firmly against the darkness. She was always the beacon of light against the dark and the Lightsaber she held in her hands only enhanced that trait. Hearing the door collapse, Lily looked over to Sven and saw that he had wordlessly headed inside without waiting for Lily to come along. It was odd how silent he had become, as if the new of the Sith had completely changed his demeanour and there was someone else beside her now.

Lily moved inside quickly since there was no current threat tailing them but Lily was acutely aware that things could change on a whim.

Plunging herself into the darkness that the tower had become, Lily held the Lightsaber up to add to the light that Sven was providing with his own Lightsaber. Lily looked around as the room was dimly lit with their light sources. "Sabotage means we know where they are at least. Control room." Lily stated. None of the elevators were going to be functional with the systems all down, meaning that they were going to have to take a far longer way up to the control room.

"Stairs. Going to have to be moving quick. We also got no idea who or what will be in the control room when we arrive, so cautious over aggression." Switching her Lightsaber off, Lily looked up the middle of the stair case. Empty void up and down but leaping upwards, that would be a lot faster than running up the stairs. Also less energy spent so they weren't exhausted before the fighting even began.

Letting the Force build in her legs, Lily launched herself upwards and grabbed the bannister. Launching herself up even higher as she climbed up to the control room. It took several leaps to reach the control room floor but Lily was there and she was not overly tired. She activated her Lightsaber once again as she felt the intensity of the Dark Side from the other side of the wall. There were some powerful Sith Lords waiting for them and Lily knew this was going to be a dangerous mission but crucial in saving as many lives as they could.

"Let me know when you are ready and we can move in, I believe it is just two Sith Lords. Pretty powerful ones but they are going to know we are here, so might be best to launch into an attack since it isn't an army that we will be facing on the other side of this door." Nodding to the door that got them into the control room.

 

[Vatrës Dhalis]

Vatrës felt the surge of fury from Gerra, lent herself to him, opening herself in the Force. Should he call upon it, he would find a bounty of dark power, fire and fury, an oasis of Vahl's influence in the mortal plane. The brand-like marking at her throat -- the manifestation of Vahl's shard, Her physical presence within her body -- glowed hot beneath her skin, visible through the gap in her reinforced leather armor.

It glowed hotter still as Abrantes -- the ingrate -- tried to hurl his slurs. The fool -- doesn't he understand that I am his only chance at surviving this? Gerra will hack him in twain if left to his own devices. Vatrës called out: "Yield, child! Do not make Vahl's Champion spill your blood unnecessarily!"

She stalked forward and put a hand on Gerra's arm and murmured, soft enough that it did not carry over the din. "She wants the boy alive, Champion. Flout Her will at your peril." But if Vatrës knew Gerra, she knew that even the words of a goddess could not turn him from his whims. She stepped to the side, out of range of the warlord's sword -- unless he meant it to reach her.

Hasuras Na-Gerra | Elian Abrantes​