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

[Mercy]

Ally: Glissara
Direct Target: Corazona von Ascania
Indirect Enemies: Gavin Restur Aurelian Veruna

It should have cut her head off clean.

Cora should have seen it roll over the ground, the maniacal grin frozen into place, the threat extinguished for always and ever.

Instead the saber hit and burned into Mercy's flesh. Skin blackening, bubbling, breaking into agony and causing Mercy to scream out in pain. As fast as the saber was trying to cut through her flesh, as quickly was it reknitting itself back together. The momentum that carried the large mountain forward suddenly swapped on its axis.

Too fast for an object that big, but Mercy had never cared much about the restrictions imposed by reality.

She made her own.

Her frame blurred again and suddenly they were face to face, but much closer now. Her hand slapped away the saber like it was a toy. Yet it burned her palm the same as it had burned her neck. The scent of cooked flesh in the air, her eyes now amber-shot, the Dark Side coming off of her in waves. Usually people couldn't feel Mercy in the Force unless there was skin-to-skin contact.

It seemed that was changing.

The moment the saber was slapped to the side Mercy finished the distance between them, moving to slam her forehead into Cora's face, while her fist came up to bury itself into her stomach.

"Unrefined." She hissed back in pure, pained joy.

 

[Sven Halestorm]

Lily Decoria | Darth Strosius | Lina Ovmar​

The blades caught against one another, sparks emanating between the blue of his blade and the blood red of hers, the colors reflecting in his eyes as he pressed his weight into the strike, trying to force her to back down.

"Oh my dear, I am always so bad at reading the footnotes, can you put it into the body of the invitation next time? You'd save me the trouble."

He let up on his strike just long enough to throw a peice of console towards her, the durasteel plate sliding through the air as he slid back out of her reach.

"What good would it be down there if there is no place to go? Unfortunately, someone has tied up the airspace that others need to evacuate. I wonder who would do such a thing?"

Sven let a soft breath escape from his lips as he looked towards the Sith, his eyes glancing towards Lily Decoria , "I have never been better, but next time I suggest fewer tendrils, I don't prefer seafood on my first date."

He let his attention slip back towards his opponent, "Some might die today, but our purpose is to save as many people as we can, and unfortunately, our time would be wasted elsewhere. There is no one else to do this, so we must."

The air settled around him as movement slowed for a moment. Sven could not help but notice his assault was barely scratching the surface of the Sith's capabilities, so he slipped his stance into one he was more familiar with, Soresu. His stance became more defensive as he waved his hand out towards her, egging her on.

Time to Dance​

.

 

[Gavin Restur]

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

Each time he thinks he's adjusted to her speed, Glissara shows she can go even faster.

He was expecting a dodge, or some sort of acrobatic move to get out of the way of the charged shot. Instead, the trooper was able to strike the bolt with some sort of blade. The only people he'd seen up to this point who are able to hit blaster bolts with a melee weapon were those like the Jedi and Sith. And even with his own reaction time and speed, he wasn't anywhere near that level yet. Which means, this battle just got a lot harder.

The ensuing explosion from the charged bolt was capable of being felt from everyone in the room with its heat, the impactive force causing the room to shake ever so slightly. Speaking of, he was quite glad he was wearing his rebreather, saving himself from the smell of cooked flesh that was now present.

Upon the sight of the trooper having a melee weapon, there was a holster of one of his own blasters. Unclipping the collapsed forcepike from his belt, and snapping it downwards, opening it. Electricity flared along the shaft of the forcepike, but most prominently at the tip. He'd be capable of meeting fire with fire.

Though, it'd be a lot more difficult than that. The smoke bomb went off right in front of him, causing him to lift his arms in protection of himself, briefly. Once no immediate harm came his way, there was a press of a button on his wristpad, igniting his rocket boots in a moment of crackles and pops. Before, there was a continuous glide backwards in the air, looking to get out from being within the smoke bomb's radius. As he flew backwards, there were a few bolts let loose to where he thought the trooper could be. However, these were most certainly not going to connect with anything, and even he knew that.

He heard something strike the ground off to his left. He didn't see anything soar through the air, as even a blaster bolt would glow within the smoke. As such, he assumed another object had been thrown at him, like before. He held his forcepike in front of himself in a defensive measure, slightly drifting more towards his right as he retreated.

Just as he was exiting the smoke bomb's radius, the only thing that gave him any sort of clue to the other's position was the sound of her bouncing off the wall to his right, causing his head to snap over to look. To which, he saw a rapidly approaching trooper barreling towards him. He had to practically throw himself backwards, quite literally becoming parallel to the ground for a brief moment in order to avoid the kick that was aimed for his skull. It was certainly too close for comfort, so close that the kick managed to knock off the wide-brimmed hat he was wearing, leaving him hatless.

However, it was now him who was in a vulnerable position. Even if (a very heavy "if") the trooper wasn't able to throw another attack at him while she was practically above him, he still would've had to take a moment in order to recover from such a drastic maneuver in evasion.

He's got a bad feeling about this.

 

[Mykel Dawson]

___________________________________________________________________

BYOO - Black Harvest #3
​

Background: Hundreds of kilometers away from the main action, shadowing the official Republic delegation to Moorja was a smaller private commerce mission led by a benevolent investment group known as the Frontier Cooperative. After the successfully initiating development projects on Ukatis and Denon, they now seek to expand further within Republic space, courting a local agricultural enterprise called Gromark to obtain a sizeable stake with the hopes of building out a new food distribution hub in the Outer Rim.

Suit

As Gourmet's head was smashed into the mirror, he unleashed an earsplitting howl that shattered the remaining mirrors, the glass detonating into a storm of glittering shrapnel. Shards shrieked through the air, and for a split second Mykel was distracted, instinctively snapping his focus outward to deflect the razor-edged projectiles that could have flayed him to ribbons.

One second was all the Sith needed.

Blades shot from his outstretched fingertips like missiles, knifing through the mirror hail toward Mykel, their speed kicked into overdrive by a savage telekinetic shove. The initial force of the push slammed into Mykel's center of mass, knocking him off balance so violently that his boots left thick black trails as he skidded backwards. He barely managed to twist aside before two of the blades carved across his shoulder in passing. They all buried themselves in the tiled wall behind him with heavy thuds, nearly disappearing tip to end. Had he been a fraction slower, his arm would have been severed.

In the same breath, he pivoted and drove his free arm upward in a vicious uppercut, unleashing a concussive wedge of Force energy that caught the still flying shards and hurled them toward the Sith in a screaming countervolley.

Gourmet shot straight upwards in a blur to evade the razor wave. He struck the high ceiling and clung there like a spider. Yet he had not turned during his ascent. The front of his body remained oriented downward toward the Jedi below, limbs hyperextended at grotesque angles no human anatomy should have allowed.

"So," he crooned, distorted voice echoing strangely across the ruined bathroom, carrying both the notes of man and monster. "thou hath scented out the fox."

A bloody crooked grin broke out across the Sith's mangled face. Where his head had been driven into the mirror, the stolen flesh had torn. Shredded ribbons of skin and sinew hung loosely along one side of his face, peeled back to reveal something alien beneath. Midnight-blue scales glimmered through the ruin, slick and reptilian. The uninjured half of his mouth curved upward in something almost charming, almost human. The exposed side bent differently, a lipless maw retracting to bare a line of narrow, dagger-like fangs the length of fingers.

"But thou art too late to stay the hunt."

Beyond the bathroom doors, screams and crashes erupted from the cafeteria.

When Gourmet's mask had been unmade, all pretense had died with it. His Force Scream had not been meant for the Jedi alone. It had rolled through the entire complex, a psychic detonation, a frenzied command etched into all thralled minds.

Kill. Kill. Kill.

 

[Glissara]

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

​

Glissara’s flying kick missed the gunslinger’s skull, instead catching his hat and sending it spinning off towards a nearby table. Still, momentum carried her past him, and a split-second later, her boots made contact with that same table, muscles tensed for what would come next. Almost instantly, she rebounded off of the table in an explosive aerial backflip, hyperaugmented tendons having stored and released kinetic energy as if they were precision-tuned biological springs.

The backflip carried Glissara above her target in a blinding aerial arc, her form tracing a soaring path through the air while the gunslinger was potentially still recovering from his evasive contortion. At its apex, the Shatter Vector leveled her disruptor pistol towards his now-exposed skull and willed it to fire with a neural command transmitted via Ghost Link. From just over three meters away, a single invisible lancet of charged electric pulses tore itself from the barrel at supersonic velocity with a muted pop. Should it connect, the stun bolt might overload his nervous system, potentially dropping him where he stood!

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)

 

[Helix]

Tags: Eloise Dinn ​

"Bring all the friends you like. You can all share the same grave." Came the response, delivered in that same echoing tombre. There wasn't anger, impatience, or even hatred in it. Just the same calm, almost mocking condescension the mechanoid had displayed the entire time they'd interacted.

The spines protruding from the room's structure melted, reformed, and speared themselves through the door like the fingers of a giant. Again, the building shook as the mass of metallic limbs pulled the solid duracrete doorframe apart. Through the billowing smoke and flames inside the room, four bright-red lights intensified themselves. A writhing, reforming mass of liquid metal surged through the doorway with the force of a runaway train, even as the surrounding structure began to collapse.

Helix had wholly abandoned even the pretense of humanoid form now, stalking out of the dark on an assortment of spidery limbs. Still, those unblinking red eyes stared straight ahead as he charged through the crumbling masonry, attempting to bowl the defiant Jedi over with sheer size and weight.

 

[Eira Dyn]

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

The mention of their parents seemed to cause Cerys to lock in more and focusing more on the defensive blocks, sharper movements force Eira to work harder in the way that she fought. It was good and bad. The walk over, while it would have been cathartic in a way to utterly destroy her sister, Eira was also eager to demonstrate the growing skills she had. If someone was not fighting their best, they would have a lingering martyrdom that they could have won if they tried harder. Eira could never allow such lies to exist.

"I intended on killing you first sister. But I can demonstrate your Order's failings and the collective weakness they instil into you." Eira growled as she watched her sister leap away. Cowardly scrambling away like the pathetic animal that she was. Eira blew the mystical darkness away with a wave of her hand. The Force sending it away.

Eyes locking onto her sister's, while the fog did not obscure her own vision, Eira wanted to make sure that her sister knew where she was. "Run away child. Attempt to flee with all the other weaklings who do not deserve the power they wield."

"It is not a threat when I am going to make it happen. I will kill your biological parents, my parents, your friends and when you are all alone in the dark. I will find you and I will make you beg for a quick death." Eira snarled darkly to Cerys.

 

[Gavin Restur]

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

Glissara went soaring by above him. He ended up doing a backflip in mid-air to ensure he didn't propel himself into a wall on accident. Despite the unintended style points such a move could've granted him, it was briefly dizzying as he returned upright. Regardless, he quickly went to look to see where the trooper had ended up, and what she was doing next.

Only to find that she was doing a backflip of her own, to end up above him once more. And not only that, she had a pistol aimed right for him. Instinctually, he brought his arms in front of himself to block, though he pressed a button on his wristpad as his arms crossed. A white energy shield formed above his wristpad, and was held out in defense for the inevitable shot.

Though, strangely, he didn't actually see a bolt come out from the blaster. Despite that, something certainly struck his shield. He knew this, because his shield, and by extension his wristpad, proceeded to short-circuit. The shield was meant to block normal blaster bolts and lightsabers, not electrical-based projectiles. As such, while it was able to absorb the lancet, the energy caused his electronics to malfunction.

And malfunction they did. Not only did the energy shield dissipate, his rocket boots also went haywire, due to them being connected to his wristpad. He proceeded to get violently flung around due to his malfunctioning rocket boots, flying all across the room in an unpredictable and uncontrollable flight. And despite his best efforts to regain control, he was inevitably sent crashing into the floor.

He landed hard on the ground, landing almost right on top of the deep cut on his back. Skidding along the floor for a few moments, before finally coming to a halt, ending up on his stomach.

Ow.

Having to shake his head to get rid of the blurriness, he took a glance at his wristpad. A few sparks emitted from it, so he pressed a couple of buttons to start the recalibration process, and to get it working again soon. He gradually brought himself up to a knee, taking the moment to think. He's clearly getting overwhelmed by the trooper's speed, so he needs to find some way to lock her down. Not to mention that, clearly, she has the superior technology and gadgets here, as he's only able to somewhat keep up. In a twisted way, part of him wishes he was the one fighting Mercy .

Though, he might just have an idea.

His grip tightened on his forcepike, as he aimed his blaster towards the trooper. A flick of a switch changed the setting on the blaster, as now his own stun rounds started to fire towards her. These were deliberate and aimed shots, with the hopes that he'd get another lucky shot in and fry her systems with a stun round.

 

[Lily Decoria]

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

The dying screams from beyond their reach was never going to be an easy thing to manage. Lily knew it would weigh on her when the escape from this trap was concluded. However, she knew that there was no time for her to pause and grieve the losses. Any distractions right now would only get amplified and that would ensure that the Sith were allowed to viciously take more lives. The priority was focusing on saving as many as they could, minimalizing the casualties.

Grieving would come later. The desire to do more, to have been better, would come later.

Being a bright light was something that she was more than capable of being literally as well as metaphorically. It would take time for Lily to master the skill but it was a power that she knew was more than handy in dealing with Sith. The Force pooling in her free hand as Lily dodged the under the sword and parried the Lightsaber best that she could. Seeing the electricity crackling from the blade, it was clear that this was no ordinary sword. "Well, sorry, let's try being so bright you suffer even more." Raising her hand, Lily released the Force Light. It was intense but it wasn't the most powerful version of the move.

Lily would be panting after the fact. The move drained most of her Force abilities, the Knight was not a heavy Force user so conjuring such abilities was far more tiring than any fighting. But Lily knew it was worth the effort, the ability could stun and even kill Sith, it was a way to gain ground. Twirling her Lightsaber into both hands, Lily charged forward towards Strosius. Aiming to get back into the fight and hopefully take the chance to build on the Force Light.

 

[CT-312]

//: Taera 'Calypso' Cassian Abrantes //:
//: Moorja//:
//: Attire //:
//: EQUIPMENT: GAHA-32 Lionheart Commando Armor | Contact Lenses| Navi/Barca //:
//: PRIMARY WEAPONS: VW 864 Maser Rifle //:
//: Secondary Weapons: LO-22S | Eight Blade Razorline Projector| Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II //:
//: ADDITIONAL EQUIPMENT: Kushute Grenades | 6 x Shiva Knifes | S.A.N.D. Powder //:
//: 1 x Arrow head of Absence | Taozin amulet | LK Spider Slicer Droid | BioMedical Support System//:​

There was structure and then there was… whatever this was. CT-312 watched the two move through their decisions with growing perplexity. She had fought alongside disciplined units, mercenaries, even Sith. Each had their own version of cooperation when aligned toward a shared objective. Even impromptu chaos followed a pattern when executed by proficient or even adequate individuals.

Was this truly how the High Republic forces operated when confronted with an unknown variable?

The Scout watched their exchange closely, studying their expressions and subtle shifts in their tone. John had made a reasonable suggestion about the commlink. It was sensible and tactical. Jane had shoved it into her pouch as if it were an afterthought. No quick attempt to tap into the local frequency. Completely dismissed. Then there was the change in positioning. Rear guard to point.

Rook raised her rifle as John moved. Covering his flank as he sprinted across the street, scanning the balconies and the sides of the streets for any movement. John signaled with a brief motion that it was clear. From the corner of her eyes, Jane decided to go next. CT-312 didn’t need to keep studying her expressions to sense the disdain radiating from her. The long and deliberate blinks with the miniscule pauses before responding, she was clearly irritated. Rook trailed behind, pressing into cover. All this was somewhat—

Let’s clear this building structure and see who posted inside.

Did she hear that correctly?

Rook craned her helmet upward. The building rose in tiers, disappearing into Moorja’s skyline. Clear the whole building… Was he making a joke? He had to be—

If you think it wise,

CT-312’s visor snapped toward Jane. Surely that was sarcasm.

I defer to your judgement.

She remained silent. Waiting for the punchline… There was none. They were serious. What unsettled CT-312 was Jane’s sudden willingness to agree. Moments earlier she had projected authority, decisive and assertive. Her commanding presence folding away with ease. The switch was abrupt. BARCA pinged quietly, text scrolling across her HUD.

[ BARCA ]
[ Survival Probability: 37.4% - LOW ]
[ Extraction Window: 41.7% - NARROWING ]
[ PROJECTED OUTLOOK: UNFAVORABLE ]

As if CT-312 required the confirmation and reminder. It was information she already knew. Tilting her helmet slightly as she studied them once more. Was it calculated or emotional? Unless… BARCA had once attempted to explain certain social constructs to her. Situations where logic gave way to attachment. Where inefficient plans were followed not because they were optimal, but because individuals preferred proximity over survival probability. Rom-coms, BARCA called it.

Rook’s visor lingered between them. “Interesting couple you both make,” her tone carrying a trace of restrained bemusement, “You and your boyfriend are truly one of a kind.” She let that hang for a half a second before continuing. “In all seriousness,” her tone dropped, the humor gone. “Sir and Ma’am…” A slow breath filtered through the helmet. “I’ve seen what the Sith can do. Not only that, with the locals hunting too. There really isn’t much time to be clearing this whole building if this ‘Information Hub’ you’re looking for is your goal.” Distant screams echoed between the spires. Another detonation rolled across the skyline. The building structures around them vibrated faintly with the shockwave. “The window to evacuate is slimming and so are the chances of survival.”

Her helmet turned toward the direction of the evacuation zone, smoke rose in thicker plumes between the spires. “Best to get off this planet. I don’t know about you two, but I don’t plan on sticking around that long.” Without waiting for further debate or a response, Rook walked past the two. Raising her rifle just enough to fire a short control burst into the glass display, the transparisteel shattered. “If you both are still keen on doing the whole building,” Stepping through the broken window entrance, boots crunching over glass. “you're more than welcome to.” Rook swept the ground floor as she entered. “But I’m going to check the guy up top I knocked down for a map. That’s how far I’ll be going in this building." Outside, distant gunfire intensified as it neared. “Seeing how the situation is unfolding rapidly.” The Scout looked back at the two, “best that you both don’t waste your time either.”

As she reached the turbolift in the lobby, her gloved finger hit the call button. The lift hummed faintly as it responded. Moments later the doors slid open. “I believe it was the fifth floor.” Rook stepped inside, rifle still raised. Her other hand braced against the lift’s door to hold it open for the both of them.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Mercy Glissara Aurelian Veruna Gavin Restur

Cora didn't expect her saber to find it's mark – not so easily, and not so soundly. Mercy screamed, flesh searing with heat that lived in the core of a star. It wasn't until Mercy's weight shifted on a dime did she understand that it wasn't so much that the Sith Lord couldn't dodge her strike; Mercy had embraced it to put herself in a better position.

Her saber was swatted aside, and Cora managed to jerk her head and buckle her knees enough to avoid being bashed by a perfectly thick skull.

The fist, however, struck true. The weave of her tunic absorbed enough of the blow to keep her organs from rupturing out her mouth, but wind was forced out from between cracked ribs.

Unrefined, the word echoed like a ripple in already stormy seas.

Cora landed with her back against a stone pillar. A groan turned into a hacking cough, blood speckling her lips. Split vision focused on the titanic Sith Lord, the flesh at her neck gnarled, but somehow healed.

"Tell me, Mercy," the Jedi grunted as she stood, a wheeze in her breath, "do you ever tire of being an unkillable God?"

She was reaching out now, towards the mountain. Sparks leapt from her fingertips, and the air suddenly smelled of ozone.

"Isn't it lonely at the top?"

Emerald bolts of electricity surged from her fingertips toward Mercy, crackling and snapping and spitting.

 

[Mercy]

Corazona von Ascania Glissara Gavin Restur Aurelian Veruna

Say what you will about Mercy, say she was sporting.

As Cora coughed, wheezed and slowly pushed herself back up to her feet, Mercy didn't try to sucker punch her. All the same her golden arm, terrible and magnificent, unwound itself. From an arm into a sword. Once upon a time it had been a Jedi's weapon, pure and full of Light, until Thronegrasp had swallowed it whole and remade it.

Not into something of the Dark Side. Her golden arm was separate from that, but no less dangerous.

"Tell me, Mercy," the Jedi grunted as she stood, a wheeze in her breath, "do you ever tire of being an unkillable God?"

Head tilted there, truly considering the question, rather than pushing it to the side.

"Isn't it lonely at the top?"

"Mm, it is, darling..." Mercy purred at her right as the emerald lightning launched itself at her. The blade came up, splitting it apart at the fundamental level, carving a Mercy-shaped opening for her to step on through. It was not without cost, however, as the strands of lightning cackled up the sword and burned into the meat of her shoulder.

"Care to join me?" She continued with a warm smile. The amber in her eyes flickering, as the Emerald Lightning weakened her connection to the Dark Side. But Corazona would remember this from the last time they fought.

Mercy didn't lean on the Dark Side for her power. She didn't use fancy tricks like Kinetite or Force Choke. Her strength was primal, sunk deep in the meat of her being.

"You could be so much more than..." Her hand gestured at Cora, clearly with distaste. "This. Blue, darling, really? Come now, that is so out of season."

This time Mercy didn't move.

She just... swatted with her regular hand in the air. It should have looked ridiculous, if not for the fact that half a beat later the shape of a fist came right towards Cora's face... even while Mercy was still standing where she stood.

Wherever Cora went next, Mercy would be there, using the corrupted sword to slice her up.

 

[Veradun Sharr]

Location: Spire, Communications Room
Gear: Armor, Lightsaber
Direct Tag: Ala Quin
Others: Darth Nefaron / Balun Dashiell / Jax Thio / Connel Vanagor / Darth Carnifex / Kasir Dorran ​

Veradun sensed the coming conflict, looming just ahead - both in reality and in perception. He cared nothing for the people in this tower, didn’t care at all for their mission, their allegiances. He had his own orders and he would try to stick to them to the best of his abilities. So he quietly stepped aside, even as the lightning charged within his grasp.

Then he felt it, the tremor through the Force - and a heartbeat later, there was a violent concussive wave, radiating outward from the elevator and into the communications chamber. The door, which had been cut with the Jedi’s lightsaber, wasForce pushed into the room with devastating consequences. Several individuals who were in its pathway were unfortunately caught by its edged, killed instantly before they ever had a chance to open fire on the intruder.

The slab embedded itself into the transparasteel window across the chamber, no longer a current threat - but certainly still available as a weapon would it be desired.

The moment the Jedi revealed herself, chaos erupted within the communications tower. Screams of both pain, as well as to open fire, intermingled with one another. Emotions poured freely into the Force like lifeblood being spilt from an opened vein - and Veradun made use of it to further feed his own darkness. As blaster bolts rained down upon the Jedi like plasma hail, he unleashed his stream of lightning.

Veradun, of course, did not expect it to actually touch her. If this was a Jedi Grandmaster, then she would surely know ways of countering this. But it would at least reveal an extent of what she could do to block his electrical probe - which she did. A Force barrier wrapped itself around her, shielding her from both bolt and electrical discharge alike. He did not waste any further energy on that particular attack, cutting the flow of Sith lightning to conserve his own energy - for no doubt it would be needed for later.

Many things happened all at once, or so it felt like. The Jedi, wrapped in her protective shimmering sphere, took hold of the duracrete slab in the window and made use of it…just as the Sangnir suspected she might. Other individuals within the chamber scrambled for safety as the slab was turned against them once more.

And then, it came for Veradun.

He saw it, felt the intention behind it, and reacted accordingly. Luckily for him, he was no mere mortal anymore and mortal limitations did not really apply to him. He moved with heightened speed, a blur almost, reappearing somewhere else as the slab impacted where had just been with enough force to rattle the entire chamber, his pale luminous blue eyes still set upon the Jedi.

She was calm, a force to be reckoned with. Veradun felt a tremor of uncertainty, of perhaps even fear. But he would not flee, not yet anyway. He let the fear bleed into his other emotions, feeding into the dark side. The edges of his vision swirled with darkness as he started to circle her.

She told them all to step aside and to relinquish control of the tower. If they did, then no more harm would befall them. Veradun didn’t care if the others obeyed that or not. His only concern was her - though her choice of words did make his head tilt slightly in thought.

“Why give them the opportunity? They are serving the Sith afterall…wouldn’t destroying them make it easier for you? You’ve already killed some of them without giving them the chance to surrender first. Why stop now?” Veradun asked as he slipped like a shadow around one side of her, his voice soft but piercing, as he pressed his will and mind against her own, aided in part by the seductive nature of the Sangnir. Another probe against her to see where her mind defenses were at, and perhaps to plant a seed of doubt or second guessing. ​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The spears dissipated like morning mist, their energies fading away into soft twinkling light. Carnifex walked forward towards His errant son, the boy's resolve appearing greater than the endurance his body could offer. The other Jedi had fled, taking the wounded knight with her. Carnifex barely even registered their flight, so far beneath Him it was. His full attention fell on Jax and Jardain, the two of them now the center of His accursed interest.

"Give in then, Jax. The Light cannot help you here, it fails to meet the demands you place on it. Only that which I have given you, that which you have inherited, can hope to stand a chance against the power I wield." Even as the Dark Lord spoke these words, His son began to rise; dark power catalyzing around his form. But the Dark Lord harbored doubts that Jax could truly give himself over to such power, there would always be that lingering reluctance.

So the Dark Lord decided to accelerate the process.

In a moment, He disappeared from sight; vanishing entirely. Such an act was so sudden, that the light photons had yet to catch up to His sudden disappearance. He reappeared behind Jairdain, beyond the scope of sensing until He was right upon her. His hand snatched out, grabbing her by the wrist and forcibly yanking her up off the ground until her feet dangled. He held her up by her wrist, the stress on her joints and ligaments agonizing as she had to bear the toll of her own body weight stretching her arm.

"I'll give you a choice, son." His other hand clutched at Jairdain's stomach, armored talons sharp enough to break the skin and draw blood. "Accept the darkness innate to your nature, or I'll tear it out of her in front of you." The it the Dark Lord referred to was His own grandchild, a truth He'd been able to sense just from being near Jairdain. There was little room to doubt that the Dark Lord would make good on His threat, for above all else He kept His word when it was given.

Even if that meant snuffing out the life of His own kith and kin.

Jax Thio | Jairdain Ismet-Thio | Balaya Praelior Zambrano ​

 

[Jairdain Ismet-Thio]

The lattice collapsed the moment Syreeta withdrew. It did not shatter or explode. It simply unraveled, threads loosening where her reinforcement had once held them taut. The corridor felt wider in its absence, emptier, colder, abruptly exposed. Jairdain felt the loss as sharply as she would have felt a blade slipping from her grasp.

For a single breath, she swayed. Not from fear, but from the sudden hollowing that followed the release of so much sustained effort. The survivors she had anchored were gone now, safely evacuated, and with their departur,e the purpose that had held the structure together dissolved. What she had woven outward folded back into her, leaving her standing alone in the wake of it.

She did not try to rebuild it. There was no time.

Jax rose again, power gathering around him like a storm front thickening with pressure. She sensed the shift before she saw the darkening aura, felt the pull of the inheritance his father named, tugging at him with the weight of old gravity.

I am here, she sent, steady despite the strain hollowing her bones. As long as I breathe, you are not alone.

The spears dissolved. Carnifex moved. He vanished.

The corridor had only just steadied when the air warped again, not loudly, not violently, but with a wrongness that tightened the Force around her like a warning. She felt the absence first, a sudden void behind her, a vacuum where presence should have been.

A hand closed around her wrist. Her feet left the ground in a single, jarring motion.

The strain shot up her arm, sharp and disorienting as her full weight pulled against the joint. Breath caught, not from pain alone, but from the shock of being lifted so abruptly, so effortlessly. She had braced for another assault of power, for pressure against her mind, for the return of those spears.

Not this. Not the cold precision of a physical grip.

His other hand pressed against her abdomen, not piercing, not crushing, but deliberate. The armored talons rested there with unmistakable intent, and for one treacherous heartbeat, fear surged through her.

Not for herself. For the fragile life beneath that hand.

The reaction was primal, immediate, a tightening deep in her chest that threatened to crack the composure she had held through siege and slaughter. She forced it down, not erased, but contained. Her breathing steadied by will alone.

Inhale. Exhale. The Force answered discipline. It always had.

Her free hand rose, not striking, not clawing, but settling against his forearm to brace herself and ease the pull on her shoulder. The touch was controlled, deliberate.

She would not give him panic.

She did not turn her head. She did not need to. His presence saturated the space around her, vast and crushing, familiar in the way a storm is familiar when it has torn through the same land before.

"I am not your leverage," she said quietly, her voice carrying with calm precision. A tremor lived beneath the words, small, buried, but real.

"You believe you are offering him a choice." Her fingers curled slightly against his armored wrist, not in resistance she could not win, but in refusal to hang limp in his grasp. "You are offering him a wound."

She felt Jax rising again, felt the darkness coiling around him in answer to pain, to fury, to the unbearable sight of her suspended in Carnifex's grip. The inheritance was not abstract. It was right there, pressing against the surface of his restraint. And that frightened her more than the hand at her abdomen.

"Jax," she said, firmer now. "Do not reach for what he is pushing you toward." Her heart pounded. She could not slow that. But her voice held. "He is not testing your strength. He is testing your restraint."

The pressure at her abdomen did not increase, but it did not ease either. The message was unmistakable, and she understood it. She swallowed once, reclaiming the rhythm of her breath. "If you take what he offers," she continued, "you do not protect me. You give him exactly what he wants."

Her shoulder burned. Her pulse raced. She could feel how small she must seem in his grasp, how vulnerable the position was.

She hated that truth. But she did not thrash. She did not scream. Fear coiled tight in her chest, but she locked it behind the discipline forged over decades.

"You cannot threaten me into becoming your mirror," she said to Carnifex at last, softer but no less steady. "And you cannot force him into being yours."

Her fingers remained firm on his forearm. Her voice remained level. And even as fear pressed harder against her composure, she refused to let it speak louder than her will.

Darth Carnifex Jax Thio

 

[Mykel Dawson]

___________________________________________________________________

BYOO - Black Harvest #4
​

Background: Hundreds of kilometers away from the main action, shadowing the official Republic delegation to Moorja was a smaller private commerce mission led by a benevolent investment group known as the Frontier Cooperative. After the successfully initiating development projects on Ukatis and Denon, they now seek to expand further within Republic space, courting a local agricultural enterprise called Gromark to obtain a sizeable stake with the hopes of building out a new food distribution hub in the Outer Rim.

Suit

"But thou art too late to stay the hunt."

"You will still die here," Mykel replied curtly.

Gourmet's ghastly smile wavered. Not necessarily at the Jedi's words, but in his expression and tone as he said them. There was no malice, no anger, no space for debate. Just absolute ice cold conviction radiating from those eyes of stone.

He could not pull away from the their orbit, the sounds of carnage beyond the restroom becoming like faint ambiance. There now only existed a world of two killers absolutely dedicated to seeing each other's ruin.

Perhaps how it should always be. Empire. Republic. Sith. Jedi. Gloves that Bogan and Ashla donned as they pummeled each other in their eternal struggle for dominance.

"Nay, I shall not descend with thee into the brimstone pits this day, good hound." His Cheshire grin returned.

Fine then, such a waste of good flesh. Even as Gourmet settled on shredding the Jedi, he would be careful to spare the heart, the most precious tribute to his master.

It had been the Jedi's mistake to pause in pressing his counter. Now the momentum was back in Gourmet's favor as he was allowed to recover. Fat luck all that zeal did when the boy had become a mannequin. Still, the Jedi hadn't drawn a blade. Did he really intend to engage Gourmet without his Jedi weapon, the Sith Assassin a living arsenal in himself?

The answer came in shocking fashion as the lights flickered out, harsh rays drowned in pitch black.

Gourmet actually cackled at that.

"Dost thou invoke my patron as thine ally? Thou art gravely mistaken." He sneered, his dual tone voice slithering through the darkened room, clinging to the very walls as if they had taken up his mockery.

Senses unimpeded, he pounced upon the Jedi with inhuman speed, body convulsing as curved bony protrusions gored his human sheath of meat in a sudden bloody eruption, body spinning as a whirwind of scything razors as he manipulated his inertia. His acceleration was such that the drips of water from a cracked faucet seemed to freeze in time. Yet, through the explosive speed, there was still absolute control as he began his reaping dance of oblivion.

Death's self anointed avatar crashed through the floor like a brick.

Silver Light returned illumination to the the cratered restroom in glaring fashion, evicting the darkness and his power with it.

In his final moments, he immediately understood his folly as he laid broken by his own reckless impact. The Jedi's apparent caution had just been bait for just this moment as the Sith called upon his higher senses for their bout.

This man was no hound as he declared earlier.

But the hunter.

A thin line of azure cut through the silver. Cut through him.

Darkness then returned.

 

[Glissara]

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

Glissara landed her aerial backflip five meters away from the gunslinger’s position. Her boots hit the floor just as his rocket boots overloaded, sending him pinwheeling across the room in a chaotic loop. However, Glissara did not simply wait for the event to play out. She exploded into motion, accelerating in a blur of powerful strides as she carved a wide, looping arc around her tumbling target. Simultaneously, leveraging the same hyperaugmented reflexes she had previously utilized to intercept the overcharged bolt, her subjective experience of time slowed to a crawl, turning the gunslinger’s erratic trajectory into a languid, predictable aerial dance within her awareness.

She leveled her disruptor pistol at his center mass and opened fire from just over five meters away, snapping off three stun shots in rapid succession at close to the maximum rate of fire her weapon allowed. What would have been wild shots for anyone else were carefully aimed precision attacks for Glissara as her lilac-hued eyes tracked his tumbling form. In the process, the invisible energy shimmer of each bolt of charged electrical pulses lanced towards him like transparent streaks, each honed in on its intended mark.

Should one or more of the stun bolts connect with its target, the gunslinger might be knocked out cold before he ever felt the impact of his landing!

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)

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Gerwald Lechner Lily Rhodes Eventually Elian Abrantes to take him to safety

Zaiya had exactly half a second to think!

Well, that escalated quickly.

"GAAH!" The little Lovalla let out a very undignified squeak as the telekinetic strike hit her square in the center. It felt like being shoved by an invisible bantha that had taken etiquette lessons from a brick wall. Her boots skidded lightly across the deck, sparks spitting from the soles as she fought to stay upright.

But hey, it gave them a bit more wiggle room. And BOY did she wiggle.

"Oof -- rude!" she protested, opal blue eyes flashing as she slammed one hand up to brace herself, her personal shield flaring, a ripple of shimmering bioluminescence dancing across her rosy-golden skin.

Then she noticed the pearls screaming back towards her.

"Oh blast!"

Zaiya inhaled sharply and split her focus, the Force blooming as she moved to defend rather than attack, choosing to try to alter their spin by mere degrees enough to arc them past her shoulders instead of into her ribs, one hitting the panelling to her right.

Buuuuuuuuuutt of course, one clipped her upper arm on the way by and detonated.

White light flared and her sleeve smoked, the EMP hitting her own electronic systems that were not hardened for EMP resistance. Zaiya yelped as the stun current snapped across her side, her muscles locking for a breathless, teeth-rattling instant before she rolled with it and let the current ground through the conductive threads woven into her robes.

"Okay! That one counts!" she called, shaking out her hand as tingling raced up her fingers, determination brightening her luminescence as another pulse of Force-guided finesse triggered the corridor's environmental systems. Overhead lights flared to full intensity, then began cycling in a disorienting strobe pattern tuned to scramble optical sensors rather than eyeballs.

Non-lethal.... but exxxxxxxtremely annoying.

The lovalla rose, wobbling only slightly as residual pressure tightened around her. Man, he was really good at making that pressure build up annoying.

But she can also be just as aggravating with cheerfulness!

"You know," she puffed, adjusting her stance while subtly rerouting the downward pressure into the deck beneath her boots, "you can learn a lot about someone by what they put on their burger."

Her bioluminescent patterns shimmered again as she shifted her footing deliberately, absorbing the increasing weight rather than fighting it directly. The Force flowed around her instead of against her, redirecting the downward crush into the deck beneath her boots.

A small crack spidered in the plating.

The Lovalla swept her hand low and coaxed the floor's magnetic grid to activate in staggered pulses around his boots, not locking him in place but making every step feel like walking through stubborn mud.

"Are you a classic topping kind of guy?" Zaiya asked brightly as containment foam ports along the wall hissed to life behind him, ready to deploy at her signal. "Lettuce, tomato, respectable amount of sauce? Or are you all about the nuna bacon and brie?"

The pressure increased, and the Lovalla Padawan had to use the force to strengthen her bones and skin from soft to hard as another crack crept across the plating under her feet.

Zaiya grinned anyway.

"Oh wait," she gasped theatrically, eyes narrowing as she studied Gerald through the haze. "You know what...you look like the kind of guy who doubles the protein -- Two patties, medium rare, maybe even a fried egg on top?"

Her bioluminescent markings shimmered mischievously.

"Honestly, that tracks."

The foam continued to expand, the magnetic grid pulsed, and the corridor lights flickered in chaotic rhythm as she held her ground against the tightening pressure.

"I am extremely committed to not vaporizing anyone today," she informed him cheerfully, annoyingly in that kaleidoscopic rush of color that made even looking at her hard to track with how bright she was becoming, "But I will absolutely judge your burger choices."

She planted both feet again, the Force flowing in careful spirals instead of brute force.

"Now...." she added, tilting her head despite the weight pressing down on her, breathing harder now, fingers hovering at her hips, she gave a spirit hand wiggle, "are we talking toasted bun or brioche? Because that's important."

 

[Lily Rhodes]

Zaiya Ceti Gerwald Lechner​

The pressure made it hard to breath, made every movement feel like she was neck deep in thick mud. The guard didn’t move, though Lily could see him straining. As the first diplomat looked up from when she’d shoved him out of sight with terror in her eyes. Gerwald's concentration had to break, even if just for a moment.

“The second you can,” she told the guard, “run.”

Space folded around her again, slower but still certain appearing not behind Zaiya where the other diplomat waited but in Gerwald’s wake reaching for his mind, ice like fingers pressing against it, seeking cracks in his defences and bleeding where she could, not with pain, but with noise.

As Zaiya turned the corridor into a lightshow worthy of a rave, disorientating from the outside, she pushed to disorient from within. Like the static of a radio as a hundred indistinguishable voices overlapping each other shouting, some echoed fear, some pain, some were exaltant. All of them were on Moorja.

Her own voice cut through all of it.

LET. GO.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Mercy Gavin Restur Aurelian Veruna Glissara

Mercy was right. Cora would remember what it was like to fight the mountain, and the punch to her gut had been enough to rattle the memory loose from her brain.

The lightning ceased. The metaphorical manifestation of Mercy's fist smashed into an invisible wall. It was a thin barrier, but it wasn't solid - constant molecular movement dispersed the power behind the fist.

Mostly. After it broke through and the barrier dissipated, the hand still had enough energy to slap her.

Cora's head twisted to the side and she blinked. Hard. The taste of copper bloomed anew across her tongue. She thumbed her lightsaber off.

"Join you?" Her voice was stuck somewhere between a disbelieving laugh and a growl. "I doubt I'd fill the void in that little black heart of yours.”

Mercy advanced, and Cora was economical with her precision dodging of the blade. She dropped low, low enough that Mercy's muscle bound form wouldn't quite be able to reach her unless she moved.

"A harem of lovers, a crown in the core, and still…"

The emitter of her saber pressed low into Mercy's abdomen, angled upward. Cora's thumb brushed against the ignition.

"You're alone."