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

[Gavin Restur]

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

As the volley of blaster fire started, his eyes would track where Glissara would cut and move to throw off his aim. At the moment, there was no focus on having accuracy, as he was currently trying to cover as much area as possible with blaster bolts. But, to the surprise of basically no one, the speed of the other was enough to avoid any direct hits from landing on her, with only the equivalent of a grazing wound landing. His hopes of ending this before it had begun were now ruined.

That strategy didn't work. It was time to try something else.

But, before he was able to do such, it was his turn to be momentarily on the defensive. There was a widen of his eyes as the trooper's body language suggested she was about to throw something, before spinning objects that he couldn't even identify due to their speed were now hurling towards him. He broke out into a sprint, running horizontally in a quickened burst of speed to avoid the first object that went for his leg. He skidded to a halt after, practically throwing himself back and rolling to avoid the second. However, it had managed to nick him on his upper arm, leaving a shallow, burning cut. He ended up on a knee after rolling backwards, wincing as he took a brief moment to stare at the wound. Looking back towards the trooper, after.

"Ain't you a quick one..."

Fortunately for him, the wound wasn't debilitating, so his arm still worked. He rose back up to a stand, transitioning from aiming his blasters from his hips, to extending his arms forwards and properly aiming. One of his blasters resumed fire towards the trooper, while the tip of the other began to glow a vibrant yellow, clearly charging something. He figured that, ironically, him properly aiming and shooting would mean he was even less likely to hit the trooper, due to her sheer speed. So, he was firing bolts towards her, not in hopes of hitting her, but to see if he could draw out a pattern from her dodging. After a few moments of this going on, the blaster that was charging something would shoot out a larger, more powerful bolt, aimed towards the ground of where the trooper would dodge into. The bolt would cause a small explosion where it landed, with the ultimate goal being to catch the trooper in the explosion, and launch her onto the floor.

 

[Glissara]

Location: Agriculture Guild Hall - Moorja
Objective: Neutralize the High Republic delegation.
Tag: Gavin Restur Corazona von Ascania Aurelian Veruna Mercy

Glissara’s ultra-augmented nervous system kicked into full drive, her subjective experience of time stretching and stalling as the gunslinger broke into a sprint to dodge her first vibrostar. In an instant, she shifted her attention to the weapon, establishing a mental connection through its data link. The first vibrostar’s kinetic rebounding system activated at her command, causing it to bounce off of a table leg just ten meters behind the gunslinger in a burst of antigravity, instantly refreshing its trajectory.

Only a split-second after the gunslinger had initially dodged it, the vibrostar that Glissara had previously aimed for his left thigh returned from behind him with its cutting mode re-activated, this time flying towards his lower back with blistering speed as he came up onto his knee after his defensive roll!

And through it all, the Shatter Vector had not broken her stride.

A snap of her head. Glissara’s subjective experience of time shifted once more as the gunslinger’s amber-hued bolts came rushing towards her in retaliation. Regardless of whether or not her first vibrostar was successful in its second pass, Glissara kept the same strategy of tightening and widening her movement arc at random to make her path into a dynamic helix that was hard to lead.

Unfortunately, as fast as the Shatter Vector was, she could not evade luck.

An amber-hued bolt zipped in at a sudden, unexpected angle, slamming into Glissara’s torso with enough force to momentarily steal her breath! Her suit visibly flared as the thermal dump saturated the integrated shielding grid, with the feedback surge causing a momentary flicker in her HUD and a sharp tingle to rush down her spine. The kinetic transfer was absorbed, but the jarring impact was felt in her teeth.

Her stride broke.

And Glissara staggered back, off-balance for a crucial moment!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Slipstream Zero Exoskin Mk. I
  
  • Arms
    
    • Modular Attachment Point - R
      
      • FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II
  • Face Mask
• Glissara’s Enforcer
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Phase I “Susurration” Anti-Sonic Silencer
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S2 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium X Gas and CryoBan Coolant (20)
• Void Helix-type Aerial Vibrostar (10)
• FAE/MDE-01-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (2)
• Miniaturized Infrared Smoke Grenade (2)
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (2)

 

[Helix]

Objective: Invest in better cybersecurity later
Equipment: Himself
Tags: Eloise Dinn ​

Helix surged forward as the Jedi caught the thrown desk, intending to give her no room to catch her breath.

One arm melded into a curved, sickle-bladed protrusion, like the limb of a predatory insect. It swung out in a perfectly-aimed decapitating arc... then went ever so slightly off-course as his focus was momentarily yanked away.

The awry blow slammed into an adjacent wall with the force of a charging Gundark, cleaving through the cheap duracrete rebar and creating a sizeable hole. More dust rained from the ceiling, and a portion of it began to collapse as the load-bearing wall exploded outwards into the next room.

Helix felt the intruder still prodding at his defenses, even while the one here was trying to fend him off. At least two, then. They'd coordinated well.

Helix was not quite so easily extinguished as all that, however. His presence was more of a physical corruption than a traditional virus, something that warped and subsumed the machinery (or organic life) that it came into contact with.

Nonetheless, he was a droid at his core, and a cautious one. The portions of himself within the system retreated and reorganized, attempting to find the interloper, but he'd been careful, left no direct way to touch and corrupt him.

Gradually, Helix's consciousness-fragment within the city's systems judged it wiser to evacuate them rather than risk even partial corruption at this stage. Clouds of fine nanites burst from any available exit, leaving the grid as quickly as they could. Their purpose had been served, and now, they were needed back at the core colony, along with the data they'd managed to siphon.

For his part, the effort distracted the colony, if only for the briefest of instants. Enough to ensure the continued existence of the tiny, defiant thing in front of him, and to prevent Helix from entirely sucking the city dry of anything valuable.

Helix lengthened both arms, before plunging them into the already-unsteady floor. A wave of jagged metallic spines, each nearly a meter long, burst from the disintegrating carpet, then rippled outwards towards the Jedi, spreading across walls and ceiling alike as he spread himself through the room's structure.

"Let's see just how fast you really are." The machine rumbled in his strange, echoing chorus of a voice. "Unless you're getting tired."

 

[Darth Nefaron]

ALLIED TAGS: Veradun Sharr, Darth Carnifex, Helix
ENEMY TAGS: Balun Dashiell , Ala Quin, Jax Thio, Connel Vanagor, Aurelian Veruna ​

Nefaron's violent assault was all but overwhelming, much to the pleasure of the Dark Lord. His horrid grin all but showed that he reveled in the Jedi's suffering, even as he stubbornly resisted the power of the Dark Side. Yet Nefaron made a common, often deadly mistake in letting his guard down and allowing the boy to free one of his hands, even for the briefest moment, to unleash the perfidious power of the light against him. In an instant, the radiant power of the light side overwhelmed the Sith and scorched him like the rays of the sun, one of his pale hands consumed in burning pain, while he had to turn away violently to prevent any more damage to his already fragile form. The stream of lightning was halted as the Corpse Lord appeared stunned, hunched over with his back turned toward the boy.

A low, furious sound resonated from within the cloak, the Dark Side gathering around Nefaron like a storm.

Yet instead of lashing out, charging the boy with a saber in hand, the Terror Lord opted for his old tricks. One by one, the lights in the room shattered, bits of glass and metal thrown into the air as the pair plunged into utter darkness. The crimson blade of the Sith vanished, leaving only the chill that accompanied one so well versed in the power of the Dark Side.

"You are alone, boy. Alone in the dark, abandoned by your friends, and now you stand before the precipice."

The voice of the Sith echoed, seemingly shifting in the dark.

"I sense your power, so much strength and yet you could do so much more. Why have you not been knighted? Does your master believe you to be too weak for such a heavy burden?"

Again, the voice shifts, from one side to the other.

"You've wounded me. But such is the price of power, something you will learn when I drag you to Anoat and show you what it truly means to embrace the Dark Side."

There was a long moment of silence, then in a sudden rush, the Corpse Lord's voice appeared to be right behind the boy.

"But first I must break you!"​

Along with the fell voice of the Sith came the ignition of his weapon, raised high and now crashing down toward the Padawan with pure hatred and fury guiding the strike. Indeed, Nefaron wanted the boy, but if he insisted on resisting, he would at least show him what it meant to face a true Dark Lord, show him that no matter what his master taught him, he would always pale in comparison to the true nature of the force.

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Quinn Varanin

When Quinn said her life was not her own, Sibylla stopped walking.

And for a moment she only studied her. Not the Queen. Not the Councilor. Not the Sith Princess who had that bright red cherry smile.

Just Quinn.

The red corridor light caught the damp shimmer at the corner of the blonde's eye, and something inside Sibylla tightened in recognition.

"Well..." she said at last, drawing a slow breath before she spoke with quiet candor, "you certainly surpass me in quantity of titles. I concede that point without protest..."

Although there was no denying what that new title meant -- and it only complicated things. It was a snapshot into Quinn's world and what weight she had to carry. Certainly not one that Sibylla envied at all.

And while Sibylla wasn't privy to the inner workings of how the Sith Empire ruled or were organized, the way Quinn revealed it and spoke about it had enough weight to understand it was high up there. Advisor or some overseer of some sort? Who knew.

It made things very, very complicated.

But it also put into light that from what Sibylla could sense, Quinn was not lying when she meant she hadn't wanted whatever was happening on Moorja to happen.

Which then made Sibylla question why Quinn had been on Wielu in the first place, then?

There were so many more questions than answers, and no time to even pursue them. Not at this time, when they had to continue moving quickly before they were spotted or subject to being attacked, Sibylla moved quickly beside Quinn as she followed the blonde.

"But I do not ask because I think you have the luxury of separating them," she continued. "I ask because I know what happens when you never do."

Hazel eyes would search and check to see any movement from up ahead, adrenaline still pumping fast in her veins, in her state of high alert.

"You speak of coexistence as survival. And perhaps, for now, it is. I understand that more than you think." In her mind, Sibylla was thinking of her own situation. How she was a politician, a daughter, a noblewoman, a Voice in an elected position, and also an Ambassador. But she was also Sibylla, in love with a man who held his own titles and responsibilities, and how the lines between them were blurring and becoming their own chaos.

Sibylla would be lying if she said that love did not color her judgments. It did -- and perhaps it always would. A perfect example was the whole situation between the Mandalorians, their broadcast, and Aurelian's own response, without first coming to her to fulfill her duty as Ambassador.

It wasn't the first time things clashed, and it wouldn't be the last.

But that whole event had taught Sibylla something. And in that, the young brunette added quietly:

"Here is the danger, Quinn. When you force every title to coexist without ever asking which one is truly yours, they begin to blur. And when they blur long enough, you stop knowing whether a choice is your own… or simply the one expected of you."

The way she said it clearly relayed her own experience with it. It had been a struggle she had personally worked through in the past two three years and was still learning how to make choices for herself as well. To learn which were truly her own.

"You say are not allowed to choose... and perhaps that is true in the grand, political sense. Bastila can make her choices. I can make mine. You may not be afforded that same freedom so easily.....but inwardly? In who you are? That must always be yours."

The distant sound of boots echoed in the distance. Sibylla angled her body slightly, instinctively positioning herself so she could see both Quinn and the corridor beyond.

"If you serve only because you believe it is expected of you," she said quietly, "if you sacrifice only because it is demanded of you, the resentment will come. It always does. It will creep in like rot beneath polished wood, and you will begin to wonder whether any of it was ever what you wanted."

And while Sibylla's voice softened, it wasn't in pity, but in warning born of experience.

"Do not make my mistake."

There was weight there.

"Find what drives you. You. Not Mandalore. Not the Sith Empire. Not Eshan. Not Bastila. Not consorts, or mentors, or councils, or kin. If you choose to serve after that -- if you decide that stability is worth your feelings -- then it will be a strength you can lean on and not just survive in it, but live."

She held Quinn's gaze with quiet intensity.

"And when the day comes that those titles no longer align, you will know which one to keep. You will have the courage to tell someone you disagree. You will not feel out of control. You will not feel small."

The brunette took a deep breath and paused, biting her lip, before adding.

"Keep this in mind that while you say your life belongs to the people you serve...." A gentle shake of her head. "A ruler who believes only that entirely will one day wake up and realize there is nothing left of her that belongs to herself."

She allowed the faintest, understanding smile.

"So, all that to say that in this corridor, it is Quinn. And that is enough."

 

[Balun Dashiell]

STORM CHASERS
INVENTORY: Spacer Apparel | Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
ALLIES: Ala Quin | Jax Thio | Connel Vanagor
OPPOSITION: Darth Nefaron | Darth Carnifex | Veradun Sharr

​

As the onslaught of Force Lightning abruptly ceased, Balun lowered his blade slightly to look past and see the form of Darth Nefaron . He appeared to have been temporarily staggered by the light that Bale had unleashed upon the room. Driving himself to his feet, he remained crouched with his lightsaber at the ready, studying the result of his desperation.

The ability was not one that Balun had yet mastered, a measure of advanced learning of which he could only acquire through skilled tutors or sources of knowledge which typically lay outside of his reach, yet he had discovered it before during an equally desperate moment in the field of battle, and since then had been slowly trying to replicate the ability. The Jedi Archives had been somewhat helpful on that front, yet he still had some work to undertake before he could utilise the Light with enough power to entirely overcome the Darkside of the Force, whether they be spirits of darkness or Sith Lords as strong and imposing as Darth Nefaron.

A low, furious sound resonated from within the cloak, the Dark Side gathering around Nefaron like a storm.

Balun braced himself for what he anticipated would be a counter-attack with renewed vigour, yet he was shocked to hear the sudden shattering of bulbs and, one after the next, the gradual plunge of the room around him into darkness. Rising to a stand, returning his left hand to take up the lower portion of his Lightsaber's grip and positioning his feet to best carry his weight, he readied himself for what lay ahead.

"We Jedi do not simply take what we feel we are entitled to, but earn our place within the Order". The question of his Knighthood came as an attempt to goad him into action, the Sith Lord seeking to give Balun cause to act out of emotion and, in doing so, make a mistake.

Balun listened as the voice of his enemy shifted about the room, yet he remained in place and eventually closed his eyes in order to focus on that which his other senses might alert him to. The Force flowed within the room, as it did within himself. He called upon its guidance, needing to be ready for the moment Nefaron decided to strike out.

"Anoat is where you call home, then?" Balun replied once more, curious to note the omission; Perhaps the current homeworld of many Sith, he could not be certain, but it was enough to know where to find this one should he be required to. The Corpse Lord seemed, judging by his words, convinced that Balun's path lay in the Darkside of the Force, yet the young Jedi did not find such confidence in their like.

Suddenly, Nefaron's voice came from behind him within astonishing proximity to where he stood. The heat of his breath, the anger and hatred within his words, his intent to strike once more was absolute. The Force guided Balun, shifting his weight to his left foot and pushing off with his right, spinning against his heel whilst bringing his copper blade around with him and attempting to meet the downward slash beneath his own heavy strike, now standing side-by-side.

If he could keep the Sith Lord's blade beneath his own and pointed to the floor, Balun hoped to leave the Sith open for a follow-up strike, not with the blade but Balun's right elbow being thrust backwards against his foe's head in a bid to stagger him once more, and create another hole in the Corpse Lord's form to capitalise upon.

Jedi Master: Ala Quin
Major Faction: The High Republic
Sub-Faction: Jhaessa Prime
Conglomerate: Dashiell Incorporated™
Subsidiary Company: Dashiell Retrofit™​

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Gavin Restur]

[Objective #: Insert Here]
Equipment: Dual Blaster Pistols, Forcepike, Cycler Rifle, Rebreather + Tubes, Misc.
TAGS: Glissara , Corazona von Ascania , Mercy , Aurelian Veruna
​

As it turns out, talking to your opponent in the middle of fighting isn't a good idea. It's a lesson that Gavin's had to learn several times, and one he'll likely have to continue learning.

Directly after he had finished his sentence, the vibrostar he had initially dodged had rebounded back towards him, with him blissfully unaware of such until it was too late. He could only minimally move his torso before the vibrostar struck his back. While the incremental movement did prevent the vibrostar from outright lodging itself into his back, and from hitting his spine, it was not enough to prevent much else. A much deeper, burning cut was now on the left side of his lower back, which had earned a rather expressive series of mumbled curses and grunts from the pain.

He was pissed, which made him all the more content with shooting her. To which, his plan seemed to have success.

Albeit, it wasn't exactly what he had in mind. Or even wished for, to be exact. As it turns out, one of his regular bolts had managed to strike the trooper directly, even though that isn't what he was going for. Though, something weird happened, in the sense that not only did it not kill her, she was still standing. Now, how in the hell was that possible?

The answer came to him when he noticed the flare of the other's shields. That explains it. It's why that grazing shot didn't hinder her at all earlier, and it's why she's still standing before him. Though, while this shield did protect her from the lethality of the bolt, it didn't seem to stop the effects of it outright, as she was now in the midst of stumbling and trying to recover.

Which begs the questions: does he want to risk her potentially dodging and fire the charged bolt directly at her, or play it safe and still shoot it towards the ground to blow her back?

Decisions, decisions.

Which ultimately, he's not one for spending a lot of time thinking. With the reality of a normal bolt striking the trooper, he adjusted the aim of his other blaster, firing the charged bolt directly at her whilst she was in the midst of recovering. He wasn't sure if this would be able to get through her shield, or even if it would land at all, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Sibylla Abrantes //: Bastila Sal-Soren //:
//: Service Corridor to the Diplomat Shuttles //:

Quinn didn't interrupt.

A sign that what was being said, was starting to make its mark.

The fighting in the distance, the red wash of the warning lights — all of it fades just slightly as Sibylla speaks. Not because Quinn is unaware, but because she is listening in a way she rarely allows herself to.

And she hated it.

The woman's attempt at empathizing with her pulled at her in ways she had never wanted to feel. The audacity of her assumptions that things were as easily managed and understood. There was no path Quinn could take that made anything she is or was easier. Still, she let the woman speak. Quinn allowed the assumptions, allowed the attempts, and brought them into an equal understanding.

There was no movement from the Echani, only a soft exhale as she gathered her thoughts. The rage that bloomed from her frustrations settled. She wasn't like the others; she refused to be like them. While power commanded and earned titles, Quinn had always wanted to be different.

Her jaw remained tight, but this time, not out of frustration — instead, thoughtfulness. The damp shimmer against her eyelashes never fell… she wouldn't let it, not in front of Sibylla.

Not in front of anyone… Ever.

"You've made quite the assessment of me in this short period of time," she spoke quietly. "Let me clear some things up for you."

Another roar in the distance as another shuttle is ripped from the sky by the traitorous government.

"We are not alike." Her lips curled slightly, forcing a smile against her tightened features. While a bit of the woman's empathy felt nice, she didn't want pity.

"I was born into a dynasty that shaped me before I had language. I was altered before I understood consent. I was trained to rule before I understood what ruling costs."

There was no desire for pity; Quinn merely stated facts. If Sibylla wanted to assess her, to try and figure her out, Quinn would lay the cards on the table for the woman to read.

"My titles and everything that I am are carefully mapped out for me. What I said was true. My feelings, those are dangerous for me and those I care about."

Vesta died.

Alina died.

Kirie abandoned to seek safety.

Mauve made deals to climb.

Mercy searched only for power.

Reina felt inadequate.

CT-312 was mortally wounded.

Everyone attached to the Echani met a terrible fate. She mused on it, knowing that while everything wasn't her fault, it didn't stop that feeling.

"If anyone found out how I felt, particularly the fondness I have for a Jedi… she would have an even larger target on her back. The Sith step and claw over each other for power. The strong survive, the weak are used."

She shrugged. It was a world she had always lived in; she had lived hunted to the point of learning to hide in plain sight.

"Even you," Quinn shook her head in amusement. "Even you use her against me, at least masked under an attempt at kindness."

The young Queen began to walk again. The sooner she handed over the woman, the sooner she could wrap herself back up in the layers that protected her from everyone like Alisteri and Neferon. She knew if they had any inkling of her heart, it would turn swiftly into a knife to cut her out of place.

"It's funny you mention resentment and ask what drives me." Quinn mused on the luxury Sibylla spoke of. Something that drove the Echani? Something beyond simple survival? Quinn thought about it, trying to pinpoint what she, in her heart, wanted. She had always chosen stability; her life before this was filled with uncertainty.

Would she ever be able to be in the same room as someone? Could she ever hold someone's hand without nearly killing them?

Could someone even love her under all of it?

"Survival. What drives me is survival. At any point and time, someone could figure something out, find the blade that would cut me through, even kill me." It was true, she knew of her weakness when it came to the Force. It was difficult to figure out but easy to exploit.

"I've felt resentment, I've swallowed it and used it to my advantage, because everything fuels that desire to survive, even when I look deep into myself…"

She stopped nearing the end of the corridor. Her eyes never met Sibylla's.

"I still want power, but not in the same way a Sith does. I want the ability to decide, to ensure that no one could corner me in a burning room ever again."

She sighed as her voice softened,

"I do not feel small," A lie. "You don't need to try to save me from myself."

Shaking her head, she finally looked to the woman. "You say you make choices that are yours, that Bastila makes choices that are hers..."

Pausing, she let it sink in, gave herself time to step forward, letting herself be closer to Sibylla — not wanting to reveal this moment to anyone but the woman.

"But that's a lie, because our choices, we have to assess them because they affect things beyond ourselves… because I felt it from her, but she still chose to give in to the optics of the Republic…"

Quinn quietly remembered Bastila's words, her warnings.

"We aren't allowed to want or desire, because if we do — we are selfish and when we are selfish… someone gets hurt."

Pulling back, the Echani smiled as if understanding her own folly.

"I'm just foolish enough to continue to reach, perhaps even dream."

Quinn forced another tight smile on her face as she looked to the once Queen of Naboo.

"What is it you really want from me?"

 

[Valaine Valentine]

Tags - Kito Reina Daival

Valaine's stormy gaze shifted towards Kito as the Shaper offered both their help, and in return that pleading look was given a silent response of a light shrug of her shoulders in agreement. The Sangnir typically found it difficult to refuse a request from her friend, and it seemed today was just the same in that regard. "Mhm, sure. Whatever kinda help you need." she added to the end of Kito's offer of assistance as she looked back to Reina.

"But... Yes I'm pretty good, all things considered. You look a little different, Reina. Do something with your hair?" she asked, unable to quite put her finger on what had changed with the woman. Her gaze shifted aside for a moment; with so many people around making so many sounds her sharpened sense of hearing was rather overwhelmed as she sighed softly. It made picking out specific sounds all the more difficult.

She weighed her own options on how to go about offering her assistance to the people here but naturally she couldn't get in the way too much, she was after all Sith herself. Her eyes closed and she brushed a hand through her dark hair with something of a frustrated sigh, "I can help people get out of here, but if you planned on going to face your enemies head on... Well, might be an issue for me. Doubt my Master would appreciate that..." she answered.

"However... What they don't see won't hurt them in this case if we want to find some way to help people avoid being blown up in the sky without attacking my ah... 'allies' I guess..." she added as she folded both hands behind her back and lightly swayed back and forth on her heels while she considered what it meant for her to be here once more.

She likewise knew what was to happen, that there was a trap set to be sprung, but she continued to keep her silence on that fact as she looked to Kito who was perhaps the only one truly out of the loop here. "Can work on your people skills, hm?" she smirked softly with the light tease.

​

​

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Lily Decoria Sven Halestorm Darth Strosius​

Lina grinned at his retort before the tendril sent him slamming away from her. Oh he was going to be fun to play with, that much was certain. She moved from the console she’d been perched on with a lazy grace, still not drawing her lightsabers as she moved towards where he’d slid down the wall.

“Silly Jedi, you were properly invited. You just missed the footnote that said it was for your own execution.”

The blue blade hummed back to life between them and Lina stopped her steady advance, the tendril moving with her, pulsing with malicious energy. Screams of those trapped in the hangar below echoed up towards them, mingled with the guttural roars of something unnatural.

“I must say, I’m surprised you’re not down there playing hero.” His hand lifted, too obvious the wave again meeting the same response it had before the two pressures collided with a resounding crack that blew upwards, ceiling tiles shattering and showering the space between them, the barrier shifted to shield her from the blast from behind as he advanced.

Silver cylinders snapped into her hands, both blades igniting to catch his incoming strike. She leaned into it, closer to him. “Does it not bother you? Can you not feel their lives vanishing? Like little lights, snuffed out by the dark.” She spoke softly, her smile wide, obsidian eyes glittering in the low light.

She didn’t press the attack, not yet, though the tendril still loomed at her side.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Mercy Gavin Restur Glissara
​

"Okay, that's good. Like. Really good, actually, I am gonna use that if you don't mind... and even if you do, realistically."

Cora wasn't certain why she even bothered to suppress the roll of her own eyes.

"Do what you will, I suppose."

It might've been a dangerous thing to say around Mercy, but still. What was more dangerous was the way the little hairs at the back of Cora's neck stood on end, prickling her skin.

Mercy vanished, reappearing at the Jedi's side faster than her eyes could perceive. Instinct had Cora pivoting to the side, narrowly dodging the gargantuan fist that was poised to caved her skull in.

Mercy was fast. Mercy was also heavy. As the weight of her strike would continue carrying her forward, Cora activated her saber and brought the blue blade down upon the back of Mercy's exposed neck.

"Uncouth."

 

[Eloise Dinn]

Lorik more than delivered, his virus forcing the droid to leave the building's systems entirely. With their mission accomplished, Eloise just needed to hold off the enemy long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

She stepped out of the room to avoid the nanites spreading across the floor and walls, intending to force their jagged appendages to reach through the narrow doorway in order to be able to hit her. Come to think of it, she might be better off sealing the nerf herder inside that room... Nah, he'd find some way to escape. Probably through a ventilation shaft or something.

"Hey, clanker! Cavalry's on the way!" she taunted. "And I hear they've got cryo weapons! We're gonna turn you into an ice sculpture, cyberfucker!"

Helix​

 

[Cerys Dyn]

Her defensive swings grew wider, more desperate, as Eira’s form began to blur into the chaotic ripple of the Force. The world smeared. Cerys felt the cold prickle of panic — that suffocating realization that her footing was gone, her calm shattered.

I’m just a Padawan, the thought bit at her. A fool who thought she was ready.

Then, Eira spoke, her voice cutting through the hum of the blades. "You. Our parents. Weak and undeserving. I will kill them in due time."

The threat drew a sharp cord of focus within her. The frantic noise in Cerys’s mind went silent. She hadn't seen her adopted parents in a decade, but the image of them, so kind, and innocent, falling to the monster Eira had become was more than she could bear.

"No."

Cerys stopped retreating. The Force stopped being a storm she was drowning in and became a steady current. The lessons from Brandyn and Elenna finally clicked. Attachment wasn't the enemy. It could be the anchor. Her love didn't pull her toward the dark. It could forge her path.

"Not so long as I breathe," Cerys said, her voice dropping an octave.

She stepped forward, no longer guessing at the terrain, but knowing it. She didn't feel the weight of her soul breaking anymore — she felt the weight of a vow.

"Your taunts are empty, Eira. I seek only your redemption."

In one fluid motion, Cerys kicked off the flagstones, flipping backward to catch the railing of a balcony two floors up. She looked down at her sister, the glow of her lightsaber reflecting in eyes that were finally clear.

"We will meet again," Cerys promised, the hum of her blade dying as she disengaged it. "And I will give you one last chance to return to the light."

She paused, the shadow of the balcony hiding her face. "But never threaten my family again. I would hate to have to kill you."

Eira Dyn​

 

[Darth Nefaron]

ALLIED TAGS: Veradun Sharr, Darth Carnifex, Helix
ENEMY TAGS: Balun Dashiell , Ala Quin, Jax Thio, Connel Vanagor, Aurelian Veruna ​

In blocking Nefaron's strike, the Corpse Lord's face was revealed by the light of their combined blades. Burn's covered part of his face, decayed flesh burned away by the raw power of the light. Despite the damage, Nefaron appeared to fight all the harder, pain and fury fueling him in equal parts as the Dark Side kept him on his feet and fighting. To the Jedi's credit, he appeared perfectly capable of holding Nefaron's blade in a saber lock, the heat from the plasma now searing a hole into the floor below them. It was in this moment that the young Jedi chose to return the Corpse Lord's strike in kind, an elbow finding its mark against the jaw of the Dark Lord. The strike indeed distracted the Nefaron, for it was strong enough to dislocate his jaw, an act that would have sent any normal being to the ground in pain.

Nefaron turned back to Balun, jaw hanging loose, and laughed.
​

Oh yes, the Terror Lord was in pain; that sensation had not yet been taken from him after decades of exposure to the power of the Dark Side. Yet another emotion overcame him, far more impactful and all-encompassing than a simple broken bone or torn muscle. It was true, Balun had his saber forced to the ground, but in doing so, he had placed himself in direct proximity to Nefaron, close enough that he was able to free one of his hands from his lightsaber and close the inches between their hands and firmly grasp the Jedi's. Through great concentration, Nefaron once more summoned the power of the darkness to his fingers, yet the lightning no longer needed to traverse the open air to strike its target. The armor the boy wore seemed resistant to the power of the force, but would it retain such strength when horrid bolts of force lightning flowed from the Dark Lord's hand to Balun's?

Naturally, Nefaron's broken jaw made speech near impossible, so through his dark will, he reached out across the force, attempting to breach his mind to carry forth his message, cruel as it was.

"Earn? You think the Jedi earn their place? All you have earned is suffering. I will be your guide, but pain shall be your true teacher."
​

The Corpse Lord was careful, though, not to pour so much of his will into the accursed lightning as to stop the Jedi's heart, for he would be useless to him then. If he wished for dead Jedi, he would have had fighters intercept the Grand Master's shuttle and bring it down before it ever had the chance to reach the great spire. Veradun was not expected to succeed in his test, but he was very much expected to survive and return to Nefaron.

But Ala Quin would lose something this day.

"Indeed, Anoat is my home. On the morrow, it shall be yours as well!" ​

 

[Balun Dashiell]

STORM CHASERS
INVENTORY: Spacer Apparel | Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
ALLIES: Ala Quin | Jax Thio | Connel Vanagor
OPPOSITION: Darth Nefaron | Darth Carnifex | Veradun Sharr

​

Against the backdrop of their lightsabers sparking, churning with power and crackling against one another, the light that bore Darth Nefaron 's features within the enveloping darkness painted a ghastly and horrific sight. The Sith Lord's laughter was meniacal, his jaw dislodged, hanging awkwardly as though it might have been broken beneath the force of Balun's elbow.

Balun's knuckles were white, holding the lightaber with his left hand in a desperate bid to keep Nefaron's locked in place. The moment the Sith Lord snatched at Balun's arm, he realised his folly. Blinding, excruciating heat shot throughout Balun's entire body within a single moment, indiscribable pain burning through every vein, every fibre of his being, suffering the inner fire that Nefaron's Force Lightning had ignited.

"AAaaarrggghhh!!!" Balun screamed as his body stiffened, every muscle becoming rigid, limbs forcibly straightening, arching his back against the overpowering discharge of energy. Steam coiled around his arms and torso, rising off his skin, which burned so terribly underneath. The leather and fabric of his clothing became frayed, some of which melted as the lightning continued to course through his form.

Never before had he experienced such physical hell. The pain was torture, his consciousness clinging to what was reality, if only to force him to experience the all-consuming agony. Unable to see anything, only the brightened crackling lightning that snapped, sizzled and caged him in a paralytic grip, Balun yearned for it all to end. It was only the Sith Lord's restraint that kept him awake, aware and alive.

Jedi Master: Ala Quin
Major Faction: The High Republic
Sub-Faction: Jhaessa Prime
Conglomerate: Dashiell Incorporated™
Subsidiary Company: Dashiell Retrofit™​

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Lina Ovmar / Lily Decoria / Sven Halestorm
--------------------------------------------

Darth Strosius had to reign in His senses somewhat as His blade clashed with that of the Jedi's, mostly so as not to wince from the Light Side that shone from her and the weapon in her grasp alike. It been far too long since He'd crossed blades with a Jedi of any kind and if He didn't shake off the metaphorical rust then there might very well be a bit of a problem on His hands. Her presence at all being one such facet that He'd almost forgotten, just how distracting her ilk could be.

Distracting enough that she was able to dodge His sword without Him being able to capitalize on the movement as He had planned. Instead she was able to keep herself on sure footing, enough to throw a kick at His knee. It connected, yet barely phased Him aside from the reflexive shifting back of His footing. A movement which the masked man barely realized until it occurred and silently cursed Himself for allowing it to happen at all. Losing ground meant losing momentum, allowing the Jedi to press her offensive advantage.

And that was something which He simply couldn't abide, certainly not when she was trying to hold down a conversation of all things with the other Jedi at any rate. "Could you be any less insufferably bright?" He hissed under His breath as He shifted for a wide swing at her side with His sword, attempting to push her back with His lightsaber in the same motion in order to force her into the path of the moving blade. A blade which began to crackle and arc with bolts of violet lightning springing up from the hand grasping it.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Zaiya Ceti | Lily Rhodes

The pearls left her fingers just before the telekinetic wave rolled forward.

Gerwald felt the shift in vector immediately. The force behind the push was guided and deliberate, each sphere propelled with intention as much as momentum.

The initial wave struck first. The Sith absorbed it with a subtle adjustment of stance, armored boots grinding half a step across the deck as the corridor shuddered. The impact rolled through reinforced plating and into the frame beneath, testing balance without breaking it.

The pearls followed.

Most of them halted mid flight as invisible pressure seized them. Several detonated prematurely under that compression, flashes of white light bursting outward and rattling the walls with concussive force. One stun charge splashed against the invisible bind and discharged in a violent shimmer that sent sparks cascading along the ceiling conduit.

Two made it through.

They struck against his armored shoulder and flank before the Force could fully close around them, and their detonation was immediate. White light flared, the stun radius rippling outward in a concussive wave as the EMP discharge cracked sharply through the air.

The blast drove him a measured step to the side. Energy dispersed across layered plating and grounded systems built to endure sustained bombardment. The stun charge bit through conductive mesh and into muscle beneath, enough to force breath from his lungs in a controlled exhale, but not enough to compromise stance or awareness.

Through the fading glare, he felt the distortion behind him.

One diplomat vanished as Lily completed her first displacement.

Gerwald did not turn. His awareness expanded instead, precise and controlled, tracing the seam left in the wake of her teleport. By the time she reached for the guard, that seam had already tightened.

The second fold began to form.

Gerwald closed his hand, and the Force compressed inward with sudden density. The forming distortion collapsed violently, space thickening around Lily and the guard until the fold strangled before completion. The guard staggered but remained rooted where he stood as the corridor steadied.

Gerwald advanced.

He moved with deliberate efficiency, closing the distance between himself and Zaiya in two measured steps as residual energy dissipated across dark armor. The Force moved with him in controlled application rather than spectacle.

He drove a focused telekinetic strike toward her center of mass, directing the pressure downward and backward at once. The intent was not to throw her across the corridor but to collapse her footing and test the integrity of the shields she had cultivated through battle and training.


At the same time, the remnants of two undetonated pearls lifted from the air beside him. He redirected them along the same vector from which they had come, wrapped in telekinetic control and forced back toward her position with precision designed to compel a decision between maintaining offense or defending against her own weapon.

Gerwald advanced through the recoil of his own strike, armored boots steady against the deck as the corridor lights flickered across dark plating. The pressure he applied did not spike or lash outward. It increased gradually, tightening around her position with controlled weight as he closed the remaining distance between them.

Now it was no longer a question of whether she would act.

It was whether she could hold.

 

[Aerik Lechner]

Wearing: This | Weapons: Lightsaber | Knife
TAG: Pari Sylune​

The molten blade's unstable hum filled the narrow space between them, its light reflecting in the transparisteel behind her and along the edge of the sealed door at her back.

She did not run.

She met his gaze and explained that she had been here for weeks volunteering and that the Sith were the ones burning their way through unwelcome.

"The Sith are conducting an operation at the docks." The blade remained angled low at his side. "The hospital is not part of it."

His eyes shifted briefly past her shoulder to the reinforced structure behind her, then returned to her face.

"You have been here for weeks. That does not make you neutral. You are a Jedi standing inside an active theater."

She asked him why.

Another distant detonation rolled across the skyline, dull and heavy. The orange edge of his blade flickered in response, its unstable core pulsing unevenly as if the crystal itself resisted containment.

"You think this is about today. It is not." He took a measured step forward, boots scraping lightly against the platform. "This conflict did not begin at your hospital. It will not end there either. You and I stand on opposite sides of something larger than this platform."

She offered herself in exchange for the hospital and called the people inside defenseless.
His jaw tightened slightly, and he lifted the blade just enough that its unstable light sharpened the lines of his expression.

"I have already spared it. You are the only reason I am standing here."

He shifted his stance, weight settling into readiness as the blade's restless glow spilled across the platform.

"If you truly want to protect them, then step forward. Remove yourself from that door. Do not make them part of this."

The point of the blade angled outward, not at her throat but toward open space beyond the platform.

"You said you would give me what I want. I want to see whether your resolve matches your words."

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Darth Prazutis

​

Master San Tekka brought his shield gauntlet down in a triumphant blow but reality shattered around them instead of the Sith Lord's lightsaber. Cracks appeared branching out from ground zero fragmenting the landscape like a broken mirror. It felt like a blurred line between Force vision and the waking world. He saw many possible futures between each crack. Some led to his death, while in others the Jedi Master stood victorious over Zambrano's smoking corpse.

Time slowed down whether it was adrenaline or something supernatural and Darth Prazutis struck back. Psychic waves of sheer aggression pounded against Zark's cortosis helm like a perfect storm. Malevolence curled around the Jedi like smoke searching for a way past his focus. Instincts kept him alive, but his parries were getting more desperate. He could see less visions of triumph with each passing moment.

Prazutis defeated his guard and scored a blow but instead of cutting into flesh it glanced off San Tekka's dented armor in a spray of molten sparks. Surprise and pain distracted him from the psychic punch that knocked the Jedi off his feet and the wind out of his lungs. He rolled over and tried to get back up again.

"Empires fall...orders burn..." he grimaced through the words while Darth Prazutis loomed over him, "Fate laughs."

When he looked up at the coming death blow a flash of pure light filled the T-visor of his atrisian helm. Not strong enough to strike down a powerful Sith Lord but at this point-blank range enough to blind Braxus long enough for Master San Tekka to launch back up on his feet and attempt to deliver a decisive killing stroke of his own.

 

[Glissara]

Location: Agriculture Guild Hall - Moorja
Objective: Neutralize the High Republic delegation.
Tag: Gavin Restur Corazona von Ascania Aurelian Veruna Mercy

​

As fast as Glissara was, caught off-balance, there was no time to dodge what the gunslinger unleashed next. Thus, catching sight of his glowing, amber-hued blaster pistol barrel trained directly at her, she activated her forearm vibroblade with a quick mental command, driving the blade from its sheath with a sharply metallic noise. All the while, the Shatter Vector’s sense of subjective time stalled as her ultra-augmented nervous system kicked in, slowing the bolt to a near-crawl within her perception. She brought the blade up, its silver ultrachrome sheen catching the light of the incoming overcharged projectile.

The ensuing interception was nothing short of violent. The charged bolt detonated against the blade's surface, unleashing a wave of superheated gas that scorched the tips of her carefully styled hair. The integrated shielding on her forearm and torso flared to life, absorbing the brunt of the thermal and particle damage. However, the kinetic force shockwave, transmitted through the air and the blade itself, jarred her arm savagely, knocking her back a step in the process. Her forearm and elbow came away deeply bruised as a result, muscles fluttering in response to the trauma.

Still, the blade itself had survived. The ultrachrome nanocoating conducted the massive energy surge across its entire length in a fraction of a second. For an instant, the metal became a white-hot rod of coruscating energy, momentarily blinding the Shatter Vector even as her face mask’s Bloodpane visor shielded her eyes. Had it not been for that, her blindness might have lasted longer.

Fortunately, clarity quickly returned.

And with it, came action. An infrared smoke bomb sailed from her right hand and diffused its concealing payload mid-air, potentially going off just a couple meters away from the gunslinger’s position. The enhanced optics in her face mask adjusted automatically, switching to millimeter wave emission to highlight his form through the thermal-obscuring haze. All the while, Glissara rushed forward with the speed of a predatory feline on the chase, her trajectory initially tracing a semicircular arc to her right. As she moved, her disruptor pistol fired once, discharging an invisible lancet of nonharmonic energy aimed to strike the ground two meters to the gunslinger’s left in an effort to distract or force him to his right.

Then, once she was only four meters away from the gunslinger, Glissara cut hard to her own left. She hit the wall there as if it was a springboard, before rebounding off of it in a direct, explosive trajectory with her leg extended back…

To kick the gunslinger squarely in his skull!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Slipstream Zero Exoskin Mk. I
  
  • Arms
    
    • Modular Attachment Point - R
      
      • FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II
  • Face Mask
• Glissara’s Enforcer
  
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Phase I “Susurration” Anti-Sonic Silencer
  • Ammunition
    
    • FAE/AM-01-S2 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium X Gas and CryoBan Coolant (20)
• Void Helix-type Aerial Vibrostar (10)
• FAE/MDE-01-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (2)
• Miniaturized Infrared Smoke Grenade (1)
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (2)