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

[Mercy]

Corazona von Ascania Gavin Restur Aurelian Veruna Glissara

"No part of me is small, darling." Mercy responded with a smirk, gaining satisfaction from seeing Cora's head snap to the side, she could feel the burn against her own hand as if it had been her touch personally.

But the shield (she assumed it was one) was interesting. It was a good thing that she hadn't immediately closed the distance. Smacking her face right into it at speed would have been undignified.

Only once the shield had been pierced by the shadow punch did Mercy come in close.

But Cora was graceful, not something Mercy would ever tell her, and managed to dodge the blade. It left Mercy exposed, allowing Cora to make her own move at her, as the corrupted blade folded back into her arm.

"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."

The emitter hit home, pressing right against her stomach.

It should have been a sign for Cora, when Mercy didn't move, slap the saber away or do anything of the sort. Instead Mercy stayed where she was... and instead her arms came down to grab Cora by her face or her shoulders, whatever was in reach to lock her into place... to trap the Jedi with her.

"A husband, a baby child... and yet you are here with me." She purred softly. "We can be lonely together, darling."

Then the golden arm exploded into tendrils, attempting to wrap themselves around her head, her neck and squeeze.

 

[Gavin Restur]

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

As he flew uncontrollably through the air like a tip-yip with its head cut off, he was, fortunately, disciplined enough to still maintain a level situational awareness. That awareness allowed him to notice Glissara in the midst of aiming her pistol at him once more. While he was expecting to see something come out, however, literally nothing did. But strangely, the trooper's arm had a very faint twitch to it that suggested she pulled the trigger. But again, nothing came out? She wouldn't just aim at him and do nothing.

So either he was hallucinating, going crazy, or she's shooting something invisible at him that he can't see. He's doubtful of the first one, and the second one was plausible. However, his gut was telling him it was the last option. And he's a man that always listens to his gut. Not to mention that the last time she aimed her gun at him, all of his electronics went wild, which is why he's in a sticky situation right now. Some kind of electrical rounds, then?

The deductions one has to make in fractions of a second. And to think she can make them even faster. Scary.

From what he can tell given her body language, not only was she able to keep her aim on him while even he doesn't know where he's going, she was likely aiming at his torso, which would make the most sense. The forcepike was aimed towards the trooper as a button was pressed, electricity intensely and largely crackling at the tip of the forcepike. While he normally saved this for whenever a Sith would happen to shoot lightning from their fingertips at him like the freaks they are (no offense to Corazona von Ascania ), he figured it was applicable here: to absorb the electricity, or in this case, the stun rounds. Since he couldn't reliably guess where these invisible bolts were going, the size of the electricity at the tip of the forcepike was roughly comparable to the size of his torso, just for good measure. This went on all the way up to his crash landing.

After his painful landing, knowing that she was able to shoot at him while he was in the air, there was a greater sense of urgency to get up. Since if she could shoot at him while he was flying, she could most certainly shoot at him while he was on the ground. After scrambling onto a knee, the forcepike was aimed forwards again, and the shield of electricity resumed. However, he did not stay on his knee for long, rising up onto his feet and starting to run around the trooper, circling. From behind the impromptu shield, he aimed his own blaster off to the side of it, firing stun rounds at her in hopes that he'd catch her with one of them.

 

[Cerys Dyn]

"You have serious issues, Eira!" Cerys called out.

With half effort, she jumped from her perch on the balcony, to another girder that held up the concourse above them.

Why her sister would go to such lengths to destroy everything about Cerys' life was entirely beyond her. Had the dark side twisted her so much that she no longer understood how insane this all sounded.

Another jump took her back to the roof of the building she had previously been on. There, she stood tall, looking down on the sad person her sister had become.

"You have my pity, Eira Dyn. The dark side has made you a hollow, and vapid creature. You have my pity."

And without any further hesitation, Cerys jumped to the concourse above, cloaked herself from view, and Force detection — just as Brandyn had taught her — and ran to the evacuation areas.

Eira Dyn​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Quinn Varanin

"You are right," Sibylla responded quietly. "We are not alike."

There was no challenge in it or a need to win the point.

"But difference is not ignorance." She added, the warning lights strobing red across her scar, catching gold in her eyes as she stepped closer.

"But survival alone is a cage, Quinn," the brunette added, letting her words settle for a moment. Thinking of her own cage that she had struggled with for years before Aurelian and others helped her see otherwise.

"If all you ever reach for is the ability to ensure no one corners you in a burning room again, then every room will feel like it is already on fire," she added quietly as she continued to move, walking alongside Quinn.

"Yes, feelings are dangerous. Yes, that fondness paints targets. And yes, I believe you when you say that power in your world is devoured by those who show any softness or weakness." A faint, restrained exhale as the woman checked her comm again, her thumb flicking to check on the statuses of others. The ones she cared about. Of Aurelian, Dominique, and her brothers.

The ones she feared getting harmed right now, as she gnawed at the flesh of her lower lip.

"But you are wrong about one thing," she added, a subtle shift in her tone, "I am not trying to save you from yourself."

Shiraya, she already had enough trouble trying to save Acier Moonbound from his stubborn choices!

"I am not your mentor. I am not your kin. I am certainly not naive enough to think I could untangle a lifetime of dynastic conditioning in a corridor lit by emergency sirens."

It was then that she paused and turned back to Quinn as they came to a stop just in front of the maintenance entrance to the shuttle bay.

"I asked because I saw something in you that did not align with the caricature your others paint... and because if Bastila cares for you, I want to understand the woman she chooses to care about."

Sibylla gave a cant of her head, and she locked her gaze upon the bright emerald green of the Queen before her.

"You are correct," Sibylla continued, "that our choices affect more than ourselves. That is the burden of power, and that we cannot indulge every desire without consequence."

She held Quinn's gaze.

"But wanting is not selfish...what makes desire dangerous is not that it exists....it is when we pretend it does not."

Aurelian Veruna and Lysander had taught her that lesson well.

She turned to look at the exit and what lay beyond, took a deep breath and then swiveled her attention back to Quinn.

"You ask what I want from you." Sibylla considered the question seriously.

"I want clarity."

Her chin lifted slightly.

"If you intend to expand into Republic borders under the banner of the Sith, I will oppose you. If you intend to destabilize worlds under the guise of necessity, I will stand against you." There was no heat in Sibylla's words, only fact. "But if you seek coexistence -- even imperfect coexistence -- then I would rather understand the woman making those decisions than fight a mask."

Another distant crash.

"And selfish?" Her lips curved faintly. "I am selfish enough to want Bastila alive. Those I love and care for to be alive...and I suspect you are selfish enough to want the same."

She let that linger.

"You are not foolish for reaching... and dreaming does not make you weak."

Sibylla's voice softened once more.

"It makes you dangerous in a different way."

Sibylla took another breath, then added with finality.

"What I want, Quinn, is to know whether the part of you that dreams intends to build something… or simply survive long enough to avoid being consumed."

The red light flickered again between them.

"I can work with either."

And that was when the comm crackled at Sibylla's hand. Republic guards evacuated the dignitaries they could. Bastila Sal-Soren would be on the other side.

"I can make my way from here." she told Quinn quietly.

"Can you?"

The question, while simple, was perhaps meant in more ways than one.

 

[Glissara]

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

A finishing blow must lead into another step forward. In this instance, an attack which Glissara had thought would finish the fight, had failed to do so. The gunslinger’s clever use of his force pike as a shield had successfully mitigated her pistol’s electrical-based stun bolts, demanding a tactical adjustment.

And so, another step forward.

A mental command, and her disruptor pistol automatically switched back to its primary energy module. At the same time, the Shatter Vector readied an infrared smoke grenade, set the timer to one second, and tossed it into the diminishing space between her and the gunslinger just as he began to run. The smoke went off and the enhanced optics in her face mask switched to millimeter wave emission, outlining the gunslinger and the blaster pistol raised from the side of the makeshift shield that was his force pike through the haze. He moved quicker now, with a perceived sense of urgency that the Shatter Vector had not witnessed before now.

Amber-hued stun bolts rushed in.

Glissara had her reaction dialed in. She carried her momentum into a low slide, body dropping gracefully beneath the line of his fire as she leveraged her core strength, flexibility, inherent resistance to disorientation, and built-up momentum to briefly use the ground like water. The smoke that blinded the gunslinger gave her cover in turn, concealing her movements from his eyes. Along the same vein, her exoskin's adaptive camouflage system and the photo-reactive coating on her pistol provided further obfuscation to blend her in with the immediate surroundings.

Simultaneously, just as her legs hit the floor for the slide, her disruptor pistol tracked the gunslinger's movement and fired via mental command. The weapon gave an inaudible pop as it unleashed a hyper-ionized Ethaerium X-fueled disruptor bolt from just three meters away, aimed low to strike at where his left calf would likely be as gravity and muscle impulse brought down his next stride!

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)

 

[Darth Nefaron]

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

Nefaron might have cackled, if not for his broken Jaw.
​

Still, he let the Jedi suffer for a moment or two longer, his dead eyes now revealed to be yet another cloak, for endless white was replaced with the fiery orange unique to one who had entirely dedicated themselves to the Dark Side. With his mask now gone, Nefaron at last relented and the lightning ceased, but that was but a moment of relief as the force gathered in him once more and, with abnormal strength and the aid of the force, tossed the young Jedi from one side of the room to the other, slamming him into the very same console that he had used to watch his friends, the very same friends that had abandoned him.

With a moment of quiet, the Corpse Lord set about the sickening task of forcing his jaw back into place; the sound of shattered bones mending and flesh twisting echoed throughout the chamber. Though he would never, of course, speak of it, the daunting task of healing from these grievous wounds was incredibly painful and draining on his connection to the force, but it did not matter.

He had made sure the boy suffered pain beyond measure. That's what mattered.

Nefaron approached his quarry, lightsaber now tucked away into one of his sleeves as he quietly laughed. Smoke still rose from the Jedi's body, a sight that the Sith Lord would never grow bored of.

"Such terrible pain. You would think your Master would sense your distress and come for you, and yet-"

The Terror Lord galnced about thematically, another bout of laughter escaping his hooded maw.

"But you aren't alone, dear Balun. The Dark Side is a part of you, buried deeply, and yet I feel it in you now. I made you suffer, and now you want nothing more than to take my head."

Raising his hands once more, Nefaron sent another blast of lightning, quick and precise, at the boy as if to remind him of what he had experienced only a few moments before.

"But you can't. You can't take my head because you believe yourself to be noble, to be a hero, to be something that you can never be."

Another stream of lightning, more laughter from Nefaron.

"Your Master fears you. You ventured beyond the Blackwall and believe yourself safe from the clutches of the Dark Side? She knows better; she hoped that leaving you here would see you dead while she proclaims herself a hero, the honored Grand Master of the Jedi. But wait-"

One final stream of lightning, but this time, there was more. Nefaron was all but attempting to batter down Balun's mental defenses, seeking out whatever bits of knowledge he could get his rotten fingers on.

"It appears your Master is just as unsure of herself. In her own hubris, she abandoned you to save herself, to face an opponent far weaker than herself."

Naturally, Nefaron lied several times in that statement, but his voice was so certain, and his will seemed ironclad. Veradun, Nefaron's first Apprentice, grew in power with each passing day and could at least put up a good show for the Jedi Grand Master, whom Nefaron also knew to be powerful indeed.

But Nefaron didn't have to believe it.

He just needed Balun to doubt.

Then he would belong to the Corpse Lord.​

 

[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

​

With each new wave of electricity arcing out and purging Balun's body of all but the sensation of agonising pain, his battered body convulsed and writhed before the onslaught of power, innate in its darkness and incarnate in his will, Darth Nefaron sparing the younger little in his tormenting and goading of the Jedi.

He could feel his on heart beat, a pace in which wounded within his throat, racing as Balun suffered every course of lightning shooting throughout his body. He could smell the burning hair, and even hear the searing heat that felt as though his flesh might begin to boil and bubble, breaching the surface and giving rise to convey his anguish; and yet he could still make out the words of the Sith Lord all the while.

Without warning or the sense to try to halt the coming threat, Balun felt his body pulled into the air and launched across the room. As his mind clung to consciousness, he lost track of his coordination, his body ragdolled before colliding against the work station terminals, sending the screens and computers scattering across the bench while he fell once again, this time to collapse upon the floor as objects he didn't have the mind to distinguish clattered around and over him.

There was a pause, a moment in which Balun clung to hope and considered the assault to have passed. His hands grasped at the floor beneath him, lying flat on his front, trying to will his muscles to work, though they felt torn, and the burning had yet to cease within him, the pain ravaging him still. Somehow, despite how easy it might have been to let himself succumb, he forced his knees up underneath him, lifting his upper body beneath shaking arms and rested back against his legs, kneeling unsteadily against the floor.

As he wavered there, trying to make sense of everything, his eyes first came upon the hilt of his lightsaber lying a little distance away from him. His mind reeling at the sight of his weapon, a sense of panic and urgency, a need to find his strength and somehow rise to the occasion. His head craned to one side as he caught sight of the Sith Lord snapping his dislodged jaw back into place, a crimson glow to his eyes that Balun could still make out despite the smoke that arose and blurred his very gaze.

His thoughts roamed to his son first, Kellan Dashiell . At the young age of four, he had a family beyond his father, yet Balun couldn't help but fear for his son's future without his guidance. Few understood the influence of his mother, Falentra. Regardless of whether or not she resurfaced one day, his son was still half Sith-Spawn and inherently sensitive to the threat of the Darkside of the Force. Judah Dashiell would naturally do everything in his power to protect the boy, yet he did not understand the ways of the Force, and he distrusted the Jedi who, in Balun's absence, would be his son's best bet for holding fast to the light. His Master, Ala Quin , could potentially offer him a pathway, yet would she and Judah see eye to eye; Balun had always thought it unlikely. No, he couldn't allow himself to simply give in. Not for the sake of his Son and those few he loved. The Dashiell's, his Master, and yes, Cerys Dyn too.

He tried to tug at his jacket, shirking it off from his shoulders and dropping it behind him before desperately tugging at the straps that held the Hodharium stab vest. He pried it free from his chest and dropped it to the floor. His Apparel, though he favoured the aesthetic above most else, wasn't fit for this kind of fight where Balun needed to rely more upon the Force than his own skill with the blade.

Footsteps sounded anew, louder, coming closer.

"Such terrible pain. You would think your Master would sense your distress and come for you, and yet-"

The Terror Lord galnced about thematically, another bout of laughter escaping his hooded maw.

Pain, anguish and electricity struck him once more, sending Balun to his side as his back arced, his breath stolen from him in another painful scream, his own, though he couldn't hear it above the crackling assail of blinding heat, his body burning from within once more under an ethereal fire that tore him apart from head to toe and sapped at all his strength and will to act.

Unlike before, it was brief; it ceased as Nefaron continued to speak, uttering notions of failure and betrayal, mentioning his master, though Balun struggled to comprehend the words. He wanted so desperately to close his eyes, yet he thought then of his father, and his brother, Makai Dashiell . He thought of them and the few allies he had made along the way.

Once again, the Sith Lord sent forth the powerful surge of force lightning, and once more it cascaded all of Balun's physical and mental senses. By this point, Nefaron would find the Jedi's cognitive resistance fallen, though Balun had not the energy or mind to realise this. Smoke plumed up around his tattered figure, lying there against his right side, clutching himself almost in a fetal position as his muscles twisted and his body shook under the horrific agony. His clothes had become frayed and torn in places, the stench of charred fabric blending with the smell of burning flesh. His arms, visible now, showed evidence of third-degree burns, where the damage had not merely been contained internally but had ruptured the surface with blood, plasma and dark patches of cracked flesh.

"G-rist..." he swore, a single word uttered between clenched teeth as he lay before his enemy. Jedi though he was, he had never experienced such horrific torment, and he was still human; he could only take so much. Balun had never thought of himself as a hero; he had seen and done things that only his twisted dreams would speak of, the consequences of fighting in wars from such a young age and the damage that had already been done to his psyche long before today. No one was a harsher critic than he himself of his life and actions thus far, yet Nefaron could not persuade him away from what Balun knew as the truth. "You talk-..." his own breath caught in his throat a moment as he almost vomited against the pain rolling through him, "-Too much...".

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

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Mercy Gavin Restur Glissara Aurelian Veruna

The scent of seared flesh was stronger, here. More pungent. Raw. Hotter.

A brilliant cerulean light pierced Mercy from stomach to lung, but the mountain had taken punishment far worse. The low hum of Cora's lightsaber filled the space between them, and so did flows of bitter golden light.

Mercy's hands had her locked in place, and now tendrils of her star-arm wrapped around her neck.

"A-lone with…you?"

Cora gasped as the pressure woven around her neck, across her face, around her temples steadily increased. She grasped for the tendrils with her free hand, trying to loosen Mercy's iron grip.

A wheeze of a laugh rasped from the back of her throat: "You'll just…break my….heart."

Her lightsaber winked out of existence with a snap hiss. Cora's vision was filled with sheer gold, but darkness ate at the edges.

The blade ignited again, this time aimed to sever the main body of Mercy's star arm.

 

[Darth Nefaron]

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

Despite every insult, every slight, Balun had not broken. He did not beg for relief, nor did he attempt to swear himself to the Dark Side. Even as he clutched himself, as his skin blistered and smoke rose from his body, Balun proved himself to be everything a Jedi should be.

The Corpse Lord frowned. ​

Yes, he won a mere duel, but that was hardly a triumph when his true goal, to break the Jedi, had seemingly been for naught. For a moment, Nefaron thought of using his injection gauntlet to send his foe into a prison of nightmares, and yet his shattered mental defenses gave way to a psyche already wracked with regret. It appeared Balun had endured more than the Corpse Lord could have imagined, and yet he still managed to come out the other side as a devotee of the Light and the perfidious Jedi Order. A low growl escaped Nefaron at the revelation and the quick wit of the Padawan, but he wasn't quite ready to give up just yet. There was little resistance to be had now after enduring pain that would have killed an ordinary man, and so Nefaron reached out with his own power to lift the boy into the air, just high enough to bring him to eye level.

"You poor boy. Already your mind is in tatters, guilt and self-loathing eat at you, and still you choose to defy me. I can take it all away, I can make you into something far more than the Jedi could ever imagine."

While seemingly an offer, Nefaron knew it would not be accepted and so left little time for remarks before he took a step forward, his tattered face now on full display for the Jedi.

"But perhaps I was wrong. I should just kill you and be done with it. Still, what fun is that? Especially now that you have revealed to me a far greater prize."

The Terror Lord did not bother to contain his joy; his guttural laughter filled the chamber.

"A son. A boy abandoned by his father so that he could come die along with the rest of the Jedi. You could have left the Order, you could have chosen life and family. Don't worry, I'll make sure your boy is well cared for and given a proper education."

Nefaron's free hand rose and pressed in commands to a gauntlet tucked away under his sleeve, and after a few moments, a pair of tall droids entered the chamber, lances held in one hand as they came to the pair of force users. With a gesture, the Corpse Lord all but tossed the boy to the droids, and they caught him in their iron grip, fixed in place around each of his hands.

"Take this one to my shuttle and prepare him for transport to Anoat. Kill anyone who gets in your way."

The pair of droids nodded and began to drag out of the chamber, though it appeared both they and their master had made a mistake.

The Jedi's Lightsaber remained where it fell, on the floor.

Nefaron set about restoring the terminal, for he was eager to see how his Apprentice faired.

He would not notice the weapon. He had already won. ​

 

[Ala Quin]

The Sangnir's voice was a seductive silken caress, a needle of doubt aimed at a heart he presumed to be fragile. Ala felt the oily press of his mind against hers, the seductive pull of the Sith mind games that sought to turn her own mercy into a weapon against her.

She didn't push back and cower. Instead, she met his darkness with a vast reservoir of compassion. Through the Force, she didn't see a predator. She saw one who had been lost. She reached out, through their connection, and brushed against that buried spark of light that the dark side could never truly extinguish.

"You speak words others put in your heart," she replied, her voice calm and exuding warmth, "but the light is still there, beneath your hunger. You need only reach for it."

She didn't wait for a rebuttal. His argument was irrelevant to the mission. The display of her power, the shattered door, the effortless barrier, had already done its work. The discipline of the remaining staff broke upon the display. They scrambled for the upper exits, their boots hammering a frantic pace toward what she assumed were hangar decks or transport pads atop the Spire.

Ala stepped forward confidently.

Her boots crunched on glass and scorched metal as she stepped toward the main console. The shimmering blue orb of her barrier remained as steady as a heartbeat, turning the few desperate blaster bolts that followed her into harmless flickers.

A loyalist officer, face pale with fear, lunged for a manual override to kill the transmission. Ala didn't even look at him. She simply raised a hand, a gentle wave of her fingers catching his gaze. "You want to let the message play," she murmured.

The man froze, his hand hovering over the kill switch. His eyes clouded, his frantic breathing slowing into a dull, rhythmic cadence. "I...I want to let the message play," he repeated, stepping back with a vacant nod.

Ala's hands danced over the controls. She opened every planetary, orbital, and emergency frequency.

Her hand fell to her side, taking her shota saber from its clip, and lifted it to point at the Sith. The blade ignited. "Stay," she commanded.

"People of Moorja," her voice rang out, broadcast across the world, "the Republic is here. You are not forgotten. To those who seek safety, flee to Republic space. You will find haven. You will be welcomed as refugees. Those who stay and fight...hold fast...the dawn is coming."

As the message looped, she finally turned her full attention to the Sith circling her like a ghost. She didn't raise her blades to strike. She simply pointed the tip of her amber lightsaber toward the floor at his feet, her gaze locking onto his luminous blue eyes.

"I will be leaving now. You do not have to follow this path. Sith is not who you are, but simply a choice that can be undone. If the light breaks forth from within you...seek me out. You know who I am."

| Tag: Veradun Sharr |​

 

[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

​

"But perhaps I was wrong. I should just kill you and be done with it. Still, what fun is that? Especially now that you have revealed to me a far greater prize."

The Terror Lord did not bother to contain his joy; his guttural laughter filled the chamber.

"A son. A boy abandoned by his father so that he could come die along with the rest of the Jedi. You could have left the Order, you could have chosen life and family. Don't worry, I'll make sure your boy is well cared for and given a proper education."

As the droids entered the control centre, Balun heard clearly the threat towards his son. His brows furrowed, jaw tightened despite his body weakened and rocking in turmoil, his mind, however, reeled at the Sith Lord's words. He intended to seek out Kellan and lead him down the path of the Sith, just as the boy's mother had taunted and attempted years before. Though Balun had loved Kellan's mother, their duel had pushed him to the point of nearly killing her to protect his son, and now the corpse lord had begun to tug at those same haunting strings.

The Dark Lord had hit a sensitive nerve, perhaps by his design, yet Balun's gaze lifted to glare back at Darth Nefaron even as the droids began to pull him from the floor. Too battered to contain his emotional recoil, anger boiled up from within at the thought of his losing his child to this twisted figure of hate and torment.

The droids held his arms, yet his hands remained free, and his gaze swept across the room to where his lightsaber still lay dormant. Restraint become aloof, impulse and instinct taking hold of the young Jedi as his left hand turned to face his palm to the roof and closing his eyes, he summoned as much ethereal strength and control in the force that he could muster, to envelop the two droids with such telekinetic intensity that their metal bodys cracked, crumpled, and sucked in against their interior circuitry and wiring, ceasing their programming and effectively killing the two non-sentient wardens in one single act.

Dropping to one knee, released of their grip, his right hand reached out, calling his weapon back into his grasp. The blade snapped to life once more with brilliant amber discharge, illuminating the area around him. Balun didn't hesitate while the Dark Lord faced the controls, attempting to return life to the security feeds. "I'll see you dead before you lay a hand upon my Son!" he seethed, his words escaping between clenched teeth as he drove himself forward. The pain and weakness that he had felt had suddenly become an afterthought to the rage of the Sith Lord's insult. Balun's love for his son driving him beyond his limit, finally snapping under the goading of his enemy.

He drove himself forward, using one half of the previously broken command table to launch himself into the air as he leapt towards the Sith Lord with his Lightsaber held high above his head, every intent driven towards running Nefaron down the centre. Yet even if his initial blow failed to meet its mark, the Sith Lord had ignited a fire within the Jedi, letting go of his moral and emotional code, focused instead solely on defeating the man who claimed would bring harm to Kellan Dashiell .

His lightsaber continued to batter down against the Sith Lord's defence. Balun's strikes no longer fluid or graceful but wild and frenzied, with no distinguishable form to anticipate his next blow, but acting purely upon a desperate need to protect his loved ones. Quick, successive strikes, his blade at times going wild and cleaving through the nearby terminals, sending a spray of sparks and molten metal up around them.

"Arrogance!" He shouted as he swung his weapon against Nefaron, "Lies and-..." He swung once more, "Deciet!" he hissed before reaching out with his left hand and thrusting a powerful volley of telekinetic energy surging towards the Sith with the hope of sending him clattering back into the far wall where Balun could then position himself to follow up with a final killing strike.

"I will rid this Galaxy of your like!".

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

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Gavin Restur]

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

He needed to get some offense going, he had been on the defensive for far too long than what he would wanted. The relentless assault from the other had left him unable to do much else asides from shooting at her, and dodging attacks like his life depended on it, which it did. Fortunately, it seems like an opportunity was presenting itself.

Glissara had moved, and he saw her readying another smoke grenade. Fortunately for him, a brief flash of light from his wristpad informed him that his electronics had successfully rebooted, and were operational again. Good timing, as he had an idea.

The smoke grenade was perfectly thrown in his path, and he was quickly engulfed in smoke. He figured she likely has a means to see him through the smoke, given how she knew exactly where he was the last time she used a smoke grenade. As such, there was a good chance she was already aiming at him, and possibly already shooting more electrical rounds. So, he needs to move quick. As he continued running, there was a press of a button on his wristpad. What would have normally been a normal stride with his running, instead turned into flight, as his rocket boots crackled to life once more. The trooper would have seen him jut himself in her direction after she fired, as he launched himself off the floor and began flying in her general direction.

As he flew out from inside the smoke, he was almost certain that she would have taken shots at him. And even if she hadn't, he would rather be safe than sorry. Whilst flying in the air, there was a continuous twirl done in order to avoid any of the bolts she had fired. Seeing how she had shot at his center mass before, he figured that would be where she was aiming next, and he made it as hard of a target as possible. Her movement from where her last saw her, on top of the camouflaging, made it difficult to see where she had gone. But, he didn't need accuracy for what he was about to do next.

With distance having been closed somewhat, there was a reel back of the forcepike. With a press of a button, electricity streaked out from the tip of the forcepike, and he gave a wide slash in front of himself. The electricity launched outwards from the forcepike, travelling outwards in a wide arc with the intent to cover as much area as possible. Attempting to catch the trooper in the electricity, and to shock her.

Aurelian Veruna really needs to wake up, soon.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

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

The voices pressed in all at once.

Fear, pain, elation, fragments of Moorja carried through the Force in a chaotic chorus that sought to overwhelm rather than dominate. The noise brushed the edges of Gerwald’s awareness like static forced through a narrow channel, layered and relentless as Lily pushed the intrusion deeper in search of a break in his focus.

Gerwald did not give it one.

His concentration narrowed instead, drawing inward until the storm of voices lost shape and meaning. What remained was the thread that carried them, the faint but unmistakable line of will that had opened the door to him.

He followed it.

The Force turned along that connection in a single, decisive motion, driving back the way it had come. The pressure that surged along the thread did not carry words or sound. It carried presence, cold and immovable, forcing its way into the space Lily had reached from as the corridor itself seemed to tighten around the exchange.

The noise fractured.

Gerwald left the connection behind as easily as he had found it, his focus already returning to the fight in front of him.

Zaiya still held her ground.

The pressure he had been applying no longer met her directly. She had chosen to redirect it into the deck beneath her boots, forcing the plating to absorb the weight meant for her stance. The cracks spreading through the metal told him how long that strategy would last.

Gerwald altered the angle of the pressure.

The weakened plating responded first. The fractures widened along the seam beneath her footing as the force pressing through the deck shifted direction. Metal groaned and began to sag where the strain gathered.

Gerwald stepped forward as it happened.

Magnetic pulses tugged at his armored boots in staggered cycles, each one attempting to drag his stride out of rhythm. The resistance slowed him, but the Force carried his movement through it with the same steady control he had maintained since the confrontation began.

Behind him the foam ports remained primed, their housings hissing softly as the system waited for a command that had not come.

The corridor lights continued their erratic pattern overhead, bursts of white cutting through the red wash of the emergency illumination. Reflections slid across the dark plating of his armor as he advanced.

Gerwald drove the pressure forward again as he closed the distance, tightening the space around Zaiya while the compromised deck beneath her threatened to give way under the weight she had forced into it.

He continued forward with measured steps, the Force pressing steadily ahead of him as the corridor narrowed into the space between them.

 

[Glissara]

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

Glissara continued her slide as the gunslinger rocketed forward with a twirling roll. Maintaining her previous momentum, which would have seen her close the distance had Gavin remained still, the Shatter Vector’s slide instead carried her past his left side at an acute angle in a blur of motion, clearing beneath his line of attack in the process. Thus, his electrical slash passed harmlessly behind and overhead as the thick, burning smell of ozone seeped through her face mask’s filters.

Once she was fully past him, Glissara tucked her leading shoulder and rolled forward, converting her momentum into a rotating recovery that brought her back to her feet in a crouch, facing the gunslinger's back with her Enforcer already raised. She was behind the gunslinger’s left flank now, just over three meters back. In spite of the fact that he was now a moving target, by maintaining her slide, she had flanked him in the span of an eye blink.

All the while, the camouflage coatings on her exoskin and pistol rippled in harmony with the surrounding light and shadow.

Her hyperaugmented reflexes stretched time, slowing her world to a crawl and turning the gunslinger’s rocket boot-enhanced trajectory into a lazy arc within her awareness. Gritting her teeth through the throbbing pain in her right arm, she led the shot, calculating the space his head would likely occupy within the next few milliseconds.

A mental command. The weapon fired less than a quarter-second after Glissara came out her slide, sending an invisible disruptor bolt lancing towards the gunslinger's 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)

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Lily Decoria Darth Strosius Sven Halestorm​

Red and blue sabers screamed as they connected, spitting sparks as he press his weight into her defence, the colour reflecting in obsidian pools, her smile widening.

“And make your life easier? Certainly not.”

The pressure eased, the force shifted as he reached for a console, hurtling it towards her as he broke away forcing her attention to shift, her sabers flashed once, carving through metal and conduit splitting the console in two, the pieces sliding away from her harmlessly, molten edges cooling rapidly.

“I do find it fascinating how a Jedi can preach to be the saviour of the innocent yet still be able to have a number in mind for acceptable collateral damage. Because even if you were capable of stopping us, which you're not, all those people will still die.”

Lina advanced, the flair of light coming from his companion, made her face shift from one of joy to one of anger, her hand flicked once in her direction, the dark tendril snapping forward for the woman's side, even if she didn’t kill her, the disruption would be enough to ease the discomfort.

She advanced as the Jedi beckoned her, recognising his defensive stance, her blades spun slashing down one after the other, testing his defence.

 

[Kito]

//: Valaine Valentine //: Reina Daival //:

One mystery was solved.

Reina had left the Order. It wasn't surprising from what she had gleaned from the girl, but it was still not something Kito wanted to hear. It was Reina who had made the Bokkan Jedi curious about the Order. She shifted uncomfortably for a moment as her mind cycled through the possibilities. Was Reina a Sith now? Or was she something else?

Lucky for her, Valaine spoke up first, drawing Kito's attention from the scenarios in her mind. Glancing towards the woman, she listened. New details and a reminder of her alignment. A reason.

Kito nodded along, agreeing with everything that was being said. While fighting seemed to be ideal, as she had linked with Valaine, it would be detrimental for both of them to somehow manage to fight off the Sith. Kito would enjoy it, but it would only put Valaine in danger.

"I agree, I think helping people get off planet would be the best thing to do." Looking up, she watched as other shuttles were being attacked, but there seemed to be a sequence to it. Letting her mind calculate the timing, she looked at her companions and smirked at Valaine's comment.

"I've been working on them," she answered sheepishly — she wasn't; Kito still had the social skills of a cactus.

"I'm quite popular at the temple," an obvious lie. Still, the light-hearted teasing kept her grounded and avoided letting her mind wander too much on Reina.

"It looks like there's a cooldown period for the gun that's firing at the shuttles. If we send up an empty one, then a full one — we should be able to distract it so that people can get off world…"

Her nose wrinkled as she tried to figure everything out, if there was need for a pilot, she was pretty confident she could survive one of those cannon shots... "Most of the shuttles should have an autopilot setting. If we do that, we won't lose anyone…"

Again, she looked to Reina and Valaine; the air between the three of them was thick — there was more at play, she could tell, but not exactly what. Maybe if she could get Valaine alone… perhaps she could be in on the situation as well.

"Any objections?"

 

[Veradun Sharr]

Direct Tag: Ala Quin ​

Veradun allowed the Jedi’s words, spoken with warmth, to drape themselves over him. Just as he suspected, her mind was fortified, resistant to his luring whisper. But he did not hide the evil smirk that played at his lips when she spoke.

“You speak as if you know me…” he said plainly, his voice as cold as his glacial blue eyes, as his head tilted to one side to regard her, even as she moved forward to do whatever it was that she had come here to do, giving a clear impression that she did not care for any response he might have had.

How typical, he thought to himself. She speaks as if her words are all that matters here.

Those present within the center, those still alive anyway, scrambled to flee the scene. He hardly registered their movements, uncaring on if they made it out or not. They were not his concern at the moment.

“...sounds like to me you are the one saying words that others put into your heart. Otherwise, you would know that what you say is only to make yourself feel good and righteous.”

He watched her take control of a loyalist officer, and force words into his mouth, forcing him to say what she wanted him to say. Veradun found the sight rather interesting; this Jedi here only cared for her mission, and didn’t care for those who stood in her way, or how her interactions with them might leave a lasting impression. She was almost…Sithlike, in that manner.

The officer stepped back, eyes vacant, obedient to her compulsion. Veradun drifted his gaze towards the man, even as the Grandmaster’s command for Veradun to ‘Stay’ was spoken - and with cold brutally, snapped the officer’s neck with a simple clench of his pale fist. The sound of cracking bone echoed through the ruined chamber, the body held upward as his pupils dilated in death, still staring at the Jedi he could no longer see, before his body dropped like a sack of rocks nearby. It was quick, painless. A mercy, really. Had the officer survived, he would have been tortured elsewhere for surrendering control of the tower to the Jedi. Veradun simply…released him from such a fate.

Veradun did not interrupt the Grandmaster as she passed her message along; he didn’t care what happened to Moorja or its people. Let them have some fleeting hope - in the end, darkness would claim them anyway.

With her message completed, she turned her attention back to Veradun. He still hadn’t made a move against her, except for his subtle pokes and prods.

"I will be leaving now. You do not have to follow this path. Sith is not who you are, but simply a choice that can be undone. If the light breaks forth from within you...seek me out. You know who I am."

The Sangnir smiled once more at her, a glimpse of fang being seen before hidden away again. Mirth danced across his face, adding a cruel shadow to his pale visage.

“No…I don’t have to follow this path.” the pale Sith before her murmured. “I want to.”

And with that, Veradun unleashed the well of darkness he’d been holding in. hidden from view - striking like a serpent coiled awaiting the vermin; a violent, concussive blast of power ripping from his position with an outward thrusting of his hands that would obliterate everything around him. The dark energy erupting from him would burn his hands - the pain caused only further fueling the energy of blast, though the wounds would begin to knit themselves almost as quickly as they formed.

The transparasteel windows would be shattered and blown outwards, duracrete shattered or turned to dust, and whatever bodies that lay around pulverized - shards of bone turning into lethal weapons as gold bled into Veradun’s icy eyes. And all the while, an evil, sadistic smile curved from ear to ear.

 

[Darth Nefaron]

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

The screeching of metal and binary brought a smile to the Corpse Lord's face.
​

His hands fell away from the terminal, but he hesitated in turning, letting himself sink into the force to gauge the rising power that now concentrated in a Jedi that was supposed to be all but defeated. Turning just slightly, just in time to see the Padawan charging him with raw fury, Nefaron's saber slipped out of his sleeve and into his palm, a red blade igniting just in time to deflect the killing blow. But there was no game this time, no playful banter, for Balun had given into anger and raw fury, and his strikes matched the newfound power. Even though Nefaron had gotten what he wanted, even he had trouble matching the raw strength of one who drank so deeply of his wrath. When the Jedi leaped above him, Nefaron saw in his eyes the very same darkness that had claimed his Apprentice so long ago, a slight so grievous that it had prompted a mere boy to attempt to strike at Dark Lord of the Sith.

Balun had Nefaron cornered; the Sith Lord was pinned against the security terminal while a furious barrage of blows came his way. The Jedi did exactly what the Corpse Lord thought he might, lashing out at him physically as well as calling into question his taunts. Even with all that anger, it was unrefined and untested, unsuited to his abilities as a Jedi, but perfect for an initiate of the Dark. When a powerful blast of force energy came his way, the Corpse Lord allowed himself to be carried by it, tossed toward the far wall. His back slammed into the metal nearly hard enough to shatter his spine, but it was clear that Balun wished to deliver the killing blow in a far more personal manner.

When the killing blow came, Nefarons' guard was down. His lightsaber deactivated and clattered to the ground.

Then the mask slipped away again. ​

In a sudden, furious burst of power, the Terror Lord sprang to life and unleashed his own devastating blast of power from the force, a power only obtained through years of depravity and mastery of the darker arts of the force. Yet Nefaron did not allow Balun to impact the other side of the chamber; he instead caught him mid-air with an ever tightening grip in the force and instead redirected him out of the control room and back into the hallway. It was only then that the Corpse Lord let him hit the ground, perhaps slamming him a bit harder than intended. Of course, the Sith Lord wasn't far behind, having retrieved his lightsaber and given up on watching his Apprentice challenge the Jedi Grand Master. Instead, he stood over Balun, eyes a flame with dark power.

"Yes, Balun, kill me. Stand up and drive your lightsaber through my heart. Then you can take my place, for I see now that the Dark Side has long had its gaze upon you."

Electric power gathered in Nefaron's hand, yet he did not unleash it. Instead, it merely danced between his fingers, as if he were pointing a blaster at the Jedi.

"I should kill you right now. I should rip your heart from your chest and present it to your Master, and yet I will do no such thing. Why would I rob the Dark Side of a worthy servant? Or should I say, rob myself of a powerful puppet?"

A low chuckle arose in Nefaron's rotten throat. ​

"You will live. Live to think on what has happened this day and live to consider my offer. Slip past the Blackwall and seek me out on Anoat, submit yourself to my service and that of the Dark Side. If you do not, then live knowing that I will always hunt your son, one who would replace you."

Despite the Jedi's condition, Nefaron delivered a swift kick to Balun's side, as if to ensure the pain kept him awake.

"The events of this day transpired because I made it so. Do you really think you can hide a mere child from me?"​

 

[Reina Daival]

Tag: Valaine Valentine Kito
Attire

Reina had to fight the urge to respond to Valaine's comment about Reina looking different. "Ah yes, being bathed in a Dark Side soup of your enemies does that to a girl." In fact, if it had just been Reina and Valaine, she would have happily made that comment. But she supposed it was something that would make Kito and the citizens they were saving a little bit on edge. In a way, it hurt Reina. The idea of having to wear a mask in front of her friends. Was it necessarily lying? Not quite, in her eyes. She was just...leaving out the truth.

"I've been working harder. Been in a lot more fights. All these wars going on. Good mercenaries are hard to find it seems. You're probably just...noticing me being more tired or somethin'. Being shot, beaten and stabbed will do that to you. Even mermaids need their rest."

For a moment, there was a clear look of disappointment on Reina's face, as the other two rejected the idea of fighting. Valaine, Reina had expected that from. Especially with the mentioning of her Master. Of course, Reina didn't know how the Sangnir's master was. For all she knew, it could be that Scientist Lady Reina was somewhat familiar with...Kito's refusal however came as as a surprise. Maybe Valaine was a better influence on Kito than Reina had expected. Alas, if only Reina had an influence like that. Maybe they could have stopped her from becoming what she was. That was neither here nor there as she shook her head, trying not to focus on it. Instead she focused on Kito's idea. Her eyes narrowing for a moment as she contemplated things.

"That means some of the shuttles are going to be even more packed. They'll need to leave their belongings behind. It is a smart idea though. I...can maybe try to convince people to leave things behind."

Even now, the thought of using her voice to manipulate and influence others felt off to Reina. It was different when it was against someone she was fighting, or someone she had deemed as "hostile". Against an innocent person? Manipulation just felt wrong. It made her skin crawl completely.​

 

[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

​

He thought he had the Sith Lord.

There was a moment, albeit brief, where Balun felt his lightsaber might meet its mark and strike true; Yet in an instant that hope was dashed as the Darkside of the Force surged with alarming strength, and he was caught mid-air, held there in a sustained telekinetic grip as Darth Nefaron revealed his composure.

The Corpse Lord had merely let the younger Jedi believe he could win.

As if the air itself had encased him, the immense pressure of Nefaron's strength in the Force became a crushing weight against his body as he remained suspended in place, unable to move and free himself. All he could do in that moment was glare back down at the Dark Lord, knowing full well that he could be struck down then and there, killed without a chance of defending himself.

'Calm yourself, young one. All is not lost,' a male voice, unheard, rippled through the Force. Though it was distant, it carried a presence of familiarity and peace, flooding across Balun. He couldn't make sense of it, the words not quite reaching him, didn't have the spiritual aptitude to realise what was happening, and yet a sensation of clarity rolled over him for a bit, the briefest of moments.

Though the source of this profound and sudden ease of mind had escaped him, the Sith Lord standing before him likely held the presence of awareness and experience to identify a third party's intervention, no longer of the physical world.

Then, abruptly, the room violently spun around him as Nefaron brought Balun slamming back to the durasteel floor, so quickly and savagely was his landing in the hallway that he felt something crack within his left side, accompanied by a bolt of searing pain shooting from hip to shoulder. The impact of breaking two of his ribs. "Arck-hrnn!" he hissed, forcing himself to breathe through clenched teeth, trying to keep his mind on the threat in front of him.

"Yes, Balun, kill me. Stand up and drive your lightsaber through my heart. Then you can take my place, for I see now that the Dark Side has long had its gaze upon you.

I should kill you right now. I should rip your heart from your chest and present it to your Master, and yet I will do no such thing. Why would I rob the Dark Side of a worthy servant? Or should I say, rob myself of a powerful puppet?

​

"You will live. Live to think on what has happened this day and live to consider my offer. Slip past the Blackwall and seek me out on Anoat, submit yourself to my service and that of the Dark Side. If you do not, then live knowing that I will always hunt your son, one who would replace you."

The Sith Lord revelling in the opportunity to have his voice heard, only to deliver another blinding blow, this time kicking Balun while he remained on the floor and causing his breath to be expelled, coughing and sputtering as he rolled onto his back, feeling a crunching sensation within him as his ribs protested the movement, another lightning jolt of agony shooting through him.

"The Sith..." He choked out the words bitterly, his voice croaked and body battered yet refusing not to answer Nefaron's rhetoric; "Like you. So convinced of our weakness. Inferiority" he paused between spells, trying to stall for time as well as finding the words to express his perception of the Corpse Lord and his kind.

"You fight a student and think yourself a God" Balun forced himself to reach out for the hilt of his lightsaber, hoping that his words might entertain the Sith Lord's notion of having the upperhand, long enough for himself to find some sort of grounding; "And despite both of us....-Seeing. Knowing. How outmatched I may....be" he gritted his teeth and groaned, willing himself to rise to his knees, his left hand pitted against the cold hard floor for support while he tried to stand once more, "I refuse" he nearly spat the words, "To be another victim of the Sith. To be your tool, the way you use people with no regard for their own lives".

Standing upright, he wavered against his weakness, body drained of strength and ravaged with injury, the sheer torment of his fight against Darth Nefaron. His left foot staggered back in a bid to stop himself from falling, and yet his right hand triggered the activation of his lightsaber once more, barely able to lift it, yet refusing to submit.

"Sure, I am angry....-I am beaten, but I am still more....-Capable, Significant than you..." he cursed the Sith Lord, "You....-Corrupted by...Desire and arrogance. Blinded by hate. Just another nameless face, a cog in the Sith-Imperial machine of aimless violence. How many more of you will there be....-In the future decades of our fight, just as spiteful, mindlessly pursuing the dogmatic selfish path of your Order. You are nothing, just another drone at the end of things, because you fight only for yourself...-And there will always be more Sith like you" Balun spoke with goading, perhaps a last-ditch attempt to render a blow to the Sith, if even only proving that he would not give in to Nefaron's desire to see him turn against the Jedi.

His head lifted slightly, his mouth curling into a weak yet defiant smirk as he looked back towards Nefaron, dazed and clearly outdone; "But there will never be another me", he concluded with a defeated chuckle, as though he stood at the edge, mentally balancing upon the divide between acceptance and submission of his circumstances. His last words held little more than a cocky, zealous attempt at defiance in the face of what he expected to be his death.

As his thoughts went out to his Master, Ala Quin , whose presence remained somewhere in the spire, Balun knew that he could fight no more. Perhaps she would succeed where he had failed if the Corpse Lord faced her in battle. As he thought to reach out to her, unable to achieve even that. Gravity moved against him, feeling the sway of the corridor he stood within, the last of his strength expelled as he fell back slowly, so slowly in his perception of the world that it seemed time stood still to witness his collapse.

Everything went black before he could feel his back hit the floor. Surrendering to unconscious bliss.

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

"Speech"
'Thought'​