Invasion The Bacta War | Sith Order Invasion of High Republic Thyferra Chapter 1

[Revna Marr]

Wearing:
Ring || Lightsaber || Necklace || Armor​

​

The young woman across from Revna was silent for a moment, as if weighing what had been said to her. She seemed to study the Sith woman, before giving a small nod and announcing that she ‘would do what she must’.

Behind her mask, Darth X’aviera gave a small but grim smile. “As I would expect you to.” she said in the same soft voice as she watched the readiness for combat fall over her admittedly beautiful foe.

The Force swelled as the Jedi told her forces to secure the facility behind her and make sure the forces that Revna had been tagging along with didn’t get through. That didn’t bother the Vahla too much - the Legionnaires belonged to Gerwald Lechner and the Second Legion were formidable fighters in their own right. They would be able to handle whatever troops the Jedi sent against them.

There was a flurry of movement, and Revna could feel the Force hum around her opponent - whose skin seemed to suddenly shift in a dazzling display of colors that momentarily made the Sith pause in wonder. She’d never seen anything like her before - but now was decidedly not the time to stand there in awe.

Though if Revna was being honest with herself - she would much rather have had a nice chat over a cup of caf or tea with the woman across from her than fight her.

Then, there was no time left to think, only act and react. The Force flowed through her enemy and Revna pulled her own power forward to erect an invisible shield between her and the Jedi to block whatever was incoming, even as her blood red blade ignited her other hand with a crackling hum. She was not prepared for the blinding flash of light that erupted, though the Force shield around her was able to diffuse some of the brightness, but not all of it.

She sensed the Lightwalker moving up on her, then the distinct sense of incoming danger - so she dropped the shield and launched herself upwards in a Force aided jump to clear the area she had just been standing in, landing a heartbeat later right amidst the troopers that had been following their Jedi. The dark red blade flashed in a lethal arc, carving through armor and flesh and bone in the blink of an eye - and at the same time, small explosions registered where Revna had previously been standing and amongst the Second Legion, though they didn’t appear to be fatal. At least, Revna did not sense the swell of death in the wake of the explosions. Whatever the Jedi had tossed at her and the Legionnaires seemed to stun them or otherwise fry the electronics in their weapons.

Tricky tricky - Revna thought to herself as she threw the energy of the Force from her that sent both living and dead troopers flying away from her in a short radius so she wasn’t so crowded. Those that hadn’t been caught by her small scale Force blast however were firing on her, their bolts either deflected by her blade or skimming off her armor. The Sith’s movements were controlled, disciplined; she didn’t seem to be concerned about being surrounded by enemies that were shooting at her.

She kept herself in their midst, using their proximity to hopefully deter the Lightwalker from throwing any more of her little surprises. Surely those little grenades would impact them as well and she didn’t think the Jedi would be willing to harm or otherwise disrupt her own troops.

“What is your goal here, Lightwalker? If you stop me, what will you do? Arrest me?” Revna called out to her opponent, as she blocked several more shots and even redirected a couple bolts straight at the Jedi herself. “I’d say kill, but you do not seem like you have the heart to do such a thing.”


​

Allies: The Sith Order
Enemies: The High Republic
Opponent Tag: Zaiya Ceti ​

 

[Velda Nar-Donna]

TAGS: Brandyn Sal-Soren / Bastila Sal-Soren
OUTFIT: Black Sith Robes
WEAPONS: 2 Lightsabers hidden

After the attempted shearing off of the barrel, Bastila’s blaster fell to the floor, smoking in pieces.

It did not seem as if Bastila herself completely trusted the situation, choosing to sacrifice the weapon instead. Which was likely wise. Velda wasn’t even looking to take the fingers or the hand, as removing the blaster from the space had been the primary idea.

Though Velda would have found removing the fingers or hand to be a completely acceptable outcome.

What happened next could only be called inspired.

As the violet tip thrusted upward, Velda’s right wrist snapped inward with ruthless, microscopic precision. Crimson met violet in a blinding explosion of white-hot light, the two blades locking with a deafening, metallic screech that filled the tight space between their faces. Velda made sure to direct the plasma to the side, clearing the gap.

Then came the shoulder. Velda anchored her legs within the Force.

Bastila’s full weight slammed straight into Velda’s chest, a desperate, heavy tackle built on pure kinetic velocity.

The impact hit with a dull, sickening...

CRACK!!!

Velda barely yielded, taking only two or three heavy steps back as her boots bit into the deck.

The collision shuddered through the air, sending the rush rebounding straight back into the Jedi. The energy reflected off Velda’s anchored frame like a violent wave breaking against a sheer cliff.

They stood chest-to-chest, the locked sabers snarling, a faint smell of ozone hanging heavy between them.

Velda looked through the darkness of her hood at Bastila, her dark eyes cloaked in shadow, narrowed in pure contempt as she heard the garbled static message Bastila received regarding the relief fleet.

“Oh, what a hopeful communique...” Velda’s voice came through as a smooth defiance on the reinforcements, contrasting against the sizzle of the locked plasma of the blades. “This planet is dying, and there is no sanctuary left for the Jedi here.”

Her eyes fell on Brandyn, who was stalking ever closer.

With a sinister curl to her lips, she glanced back at Bastila, then back to Brandyn. She could feel the rage, the pure anger radiating off him.

Then she felt the Force wrap around her, in response she did the unexpected.

She lifted the anchor from her legs. Whatever he was planning, she wasn’t going to impede it at all.

Then Velda was ripped from where she stood, thrown into the darkness at relentless speed, swallowed whole by the black shadows of the bunker.

She was airborne for only a few seconds, though to Velda it felt longer.

The armor beneath her robes hit with a heavy smack against the rusted durasteel of the bunker wall. The violent impact knocked her saber loose from her hand for a brief moment and threw her hood back over her shoulders, though that hardly bothered her, considering her identity was already out in the open.

The hit was a bit harder than she would have preferred, but she slowly rose back to her feet.

Reaching out through the Force, she called the hilt back to her grip and stalked back toward the main entrance.

She reemerged from the shadows with her blade still ignited, circling around Brandyn and away from Bastila while maintaining a respectable distance. As she moved, she dropped the tip of her saber low, the crimson plasma finding a shallow puddle on the deck, sizzling and sending up wisps of white smoke as she walked past.

“Do regale me, Brandyn, about who I’ve taken from you...”

 

[Tobias Dib]

Allies: Sith Order
Enemies: Everyone else
Tags: Connel Vanagor , Aricsias Renaud , Seren Gwyn , Aiden Porte , OPEN


Shuttles, ships, and other atmospheric craft rose from the duracrete pads of the hangar bays of the prison. Large bay doors rolled back as they streamed from the depths. A motley bunch of aircraft emerged. But they served their purpose in getting the makeshift army brigade from point A to point B. They didn't have to look good; they just had to be good. In one of the leading ships, Warden Cobbs and Sergeant Mills stood on either side of Troigs. They had divided their force of nearly a thousand strong between them. Cobbs and his guards would push from the landing bays and seek to establish a foothold for the Republic forces. Meanwhile, Mills and Troigs would push past and infiltrate the facilities. But there would be nothing stealthy about their approach.

Utilizing the layout of the city, the ships streaked down straightaways above the city streets, slowing only to bank around buildings before continuing onward. The pilots knew the danger zone would be the open ground between the city's outskirts and the start of the industrial park. Troigs' orders were to hit the open ground and open the throttles. Then they cleared the final obstacles and accelerated. Enemy fire ricocheted from the hulls, but thankfully none pierced them. The ships still shuddered from the small-arms fire, yet they continued unerringly to the perimeter of the industrial park. When they landed and disgorged their recruitment of troops, there was a moment of confusion before Sergeant Mills revealed himself to be a military member on leave when everything went to hell. Warden Cobb and his guards gladly welcomed their assault position in the Republic forces, while Mills and Troigs pushed their groups inward.

"This is Sergeant Mills and Jedi Troigs. We are entering the industrial park and pressing toward the central hub, where the enemy commander is presumed to be. Any Sith we encounter on the way will be exterminated with extreme prejudice." Mills noticed the discomfort exhibited by the wording. They had already discussed that this was war. Any Jedi teachings about mercy and fluffy feelings were no longer valid. Especially considering the state of Thyferra. Troigs had agreed. "Time to do this, my Jedi friend." They entered the facilities at the head of their rabble-rousing contingent. Mills did have a question about what they would do if they encountered sealed bulkheads. Troigs only smiled. "I have a key." The blue blade of the lightsaber leapt to life, along with their shared smiles.

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The squadrons took evasive action when they were fired upon. Though the ships were splitting through rain clouds, they knew what the targets would be—the bombers. The Sith interceptors knew their jobs. Protect the bombers from enemy fire at all costs. Using the dense storm clouds, they wove in and out of visibility, knowing if they couldn't see the enemy, then the enemy couldn't see them. Rain hammered at their hulls as the three-pronged attack finally separated.

The first group flew for the capital. They used cloud cover for camouflage and concealment until it slowly began to dissipate. It didn't matter. They were close enough. Bombers readied their loadouts even as they jinked from side to side evasively. Several fighters were blasted from the skies, but the mission remained. Beneath them were the outer edges of the capital, and several more of the support craft were hit, falling as burning debris into the city. The bombers lined up on their final approach. However, defensive fire hit two of the bombers, sending them crashing along the city's edges. At the same time, the final two Caldoth-Class Tactical Bombers released their full arsenal before screaming straight upwards to escape enemy barrages of firepower.

Twenty Discord missiles flew over the city before they hatched, raining down a swarm of buzz droids from each container. Their programming wasn't to attack ships and droids but rather the population of the capital, sowing as much chaos and death as possible.

Forty Trauger missiles aimed for the rain clouds above the city. Upon detonation, the clouds of gas emitted combined with the showers to turn into acid rain capable of liquefying the most resistant of metals and, if contact was made with organic beings, extreme burns and nerve damage, often leading to amputations being required to save the victims.

One hundred and twenty Bunker-buster torpedoes were launched in rapid salvos. The sheer number served one goal. To carpet the capital with torpedoes capable of driving into the surface itself in search of hidden bunkers before the proton bomb in each detonated. Regardless of whether they found anything, the explosion could cause multiple city blocks of upheaval, damage, and death. Not to mention the obvious lasting effects of structural damage and destruction.

And then there were the mixed payloads of the big boi bomb bays. Six Deathball proton bombs fell toward the city. Each was more than equal to tons of TNT-equivalent yields. And all six fell toward the heart of the city.

The other six massive payloads were merely carriers of the Nihilblight Xenotoxin. Leading to rapid cell degeneration within seconds of contact, it also could cause neural failure, seizures, and nerve disruption in as little as twenty seconds. Even worse, the gas seemed semi-sentient, often following signs of life rather than merely dispersing. And they fell toward the most populated areas of the capital.

The fallen bombers crashed, releasing the creeping gas that searched for victims indiscriminately.

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Over the Jedi army formations in the burning fields, the second group of fighters and bombers swooped down. Instead of defending from orbit, the Sith interceptors flew in a forward screen, taking incoming fire like bodyguards made of metal and engines, consciously sacrificing themselves to the cause. One bomber was hulled through the viewport, spinning toward the burning fields while another was clipped in the wings, launching it toward the fiery forests. However, the other two bombers unloaded on the enemy army with the same directives.

Twenty swarms of buzz droids from the Discord missiles.
Forty Trauger missiles exploding near the rear of their formations to limit friendly fire via the acid.
One hundred and twenty Bunker-buster torpedoes lobbed at enemy artillery and armored support vehicles.
Six Deathball proton bombs dropped in the thickest formations.
And six Nihilblight Xenotoxin payloads dispersed toward reserve Jedi.

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The third group of Interceptors and bombers disappeared into the storm clouds, circling the industrial park while remaining hidden.

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All the while, the massive armored giant remained silent in the central hub located within the towers. View screens locked out several of the hackers and slicers. Reports said the enemy was pushing the perimeter well within the bounds of the industrial park, while well-placed attacks demolished artillery emplacements and sniper nests. And the enemy continued to advance. Bulkheads continued to open and close at random, cutting off reinforcements and forcing them to reroute. Trask was unreachable. A discouraging number of shuttles were being taken out over the facilities. And then a voice cut through their comms.

"I'm coming for you."

The gargantuan figure did not respond. All that was seen was his grip tighten on the unlit lightsaber hilt held in one gauntleted hand. Somewhere, the timer kept ticking.

2.54.17
2.54.16
2.54.15

 

[Darth Strosius]

Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Lina Ovmar / Madrona A’Mia / William Thule / Andromeda Demir / Open!
--------------------------------------------

The situation was already evolving fairly quickly and not necessarily to their advantage. Darth Strosius didn't care very much for either occurrence at all, they couldn't afford to be pinned down in the open like this for long. He didn't know what other forces might be moving to intercept them but they had to rid themselves of these first ones and fast. He looked back for a moment to give an order to His Legionnaires, to command them to form proper positions and begin pushing forwards while the droids were still functional, yet a scream tore His attention from them.

"Lina!" Darth Strosius moved to her side at once, His free hand hovering behind her back as she raised a shield for herself just in case she needed a steadier footing. His hidden gaze snapped over her and widened when the slight disconnect between her movements and the echo that plagued her form. The stole had been affected and the effects of Lina's condition were already far too apparent for His liking. "Kark not now. Are you alright?" There wasn't much that could be done to repair the runes amidst a battle, not without risking getting shot to bits at any rate.

"Just hang back and I'll-" Lina was off before He could fret over her any further, bringing her creatures of shade to bear against the firing line whilst she charged the Jedi. That was supposed to be His duty. Unfortunately His forces were in dire need of guidance, the droids' march forwards had already resulting in glancing blows becoming disabling shots and their numbers were thinning. Not to mention the sample collectors were starting to take direct fire themselves even as the droids shifted to position themselves far before them.

A grenade soared through the air and was about to land right in a plot where two legionnaires had dove for cover, though it never hit the ground nor did it effect them at all. Darth Strosius stopped it in mid-air and threw it up with a gesture of His armored fingers, letting it explode high up and far away from His soldiers. As the droids began falling He rushed forward and began taking up the task of deflecting the bolts aimed to put down the collection teams.

With a gesture the handful of remaining droids broke into an all out charge towards where the Vratix and Republic soldiers, their blasters running hot as they fired with reckless abandon. :"Someone kill that fething Jedi!": The legionnaires glanced at one another and then at where Lina and one of the Jedi seemed destined to clash, the other having broken off to defend the soldiers from the creatures set upon them. Without any further delay they began to maneuver along the flanks of the two charging lightsaber wielders, firing at the Jedi in the hopes of keeping his movement limited so that Lina could manage a swift and decisive strike.

Darth Strosius meanwhile had taken to the air, soaring up on the pale translucent tendrils that flowed from His back and served as an odd parody of "wings", before diving ahead of the droid charge. He came down upon the Jedi as she moved to cut one of the creatures down, His crimson blade snapping down to sever the hand that held her weapon before it could meet the shadow walker. He needed to get rid of the Vratix and more importantly the soldiers before His teams could advance properly.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Running up that Hill //:
//: Equipment in Sig //:
//: Offices //:

//: Arris Windrun //:
​

Her eyes never left the cyborg's.

She could still sense her blood, that same small drop that stained the underside of Arris' tongue. The faint thread of it remained familiar against Quinn's senses, untouched. Arris hadn't switched it out for another part.

Which meant Quinn could still find her if she needed to.

A blood trail.

It was how she cared about the people that were hers.

Her gaze glided over Arris' face once more, lingering on every subtle movement while she listened to the woman ramble. It was frustrating not to hear what she wanted. It had been such a simple question, one others had answered without hesitation.

Why did Arris hesitate?

Quinn found herself thinking of the blonde woman. The one Arris had so easily said she needed.

Without realizing it, Quinn felt the faint sting gathering behind her eyes. Tears welled along her lashes before she could stop them. It was silly. Pathetic jealousy. She had given Arris something — something the cyborg claimed she needed — yet she couldn't simply answer her.

Quinn caught her lower lip between her teeth, biting gently as she forced the tears to remain where they were.

She didn't want Arris to see her frustration.

Instead, Quinn stayed close.

Close enough to hear the softness of Arris' breathing. Close enough to feel the warmth between them, the space separating their bodies reduced to almost nothing. Her smile faltered for only a moment before she leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss against the corner of the cyborg's lips.

Not yet.

Arris wouldn't receive the gift just yet.

Quinn wanted something first. Needed something from her.

Her mind wandered back to the kiss before the fight against the Kestrians, to the way she had given Arris so much of what she offered without hesitation. The memory still sat warm beneath her skin, intoxicating in a way Quinn hated admitting.

She wanted more.

But she wanted Arris to want her just as badly.

"That's not what I was asking you." The words came in a whisper.

Her thumb drifted beneath Arris' lower lip, tracing the soft edge of it with deliberate slowness. Quinn let the silence settle between them afterward, her touch remaining there as she wondered what was happening inside Arris' mind.

Why she continued to dodge what should have been the easiest question Quinn had ever asked.

It only made Quinn lean closer.

Made her want to coax the answer from Arris until there was nothing else occupying that strange, mechanical mind of hers.

"You said I make you feel alive…"

Quinn's hand slipped around the back of Arris' neck, her fingers disappearing gently into dark hair. The touch lacked her usual possessive sharpness. Instead, there was something tender in it, something vulnerable that Quinn had only recently begun allowing Arris to see.

Their faces were barely apart now.

Her lips lingered only a breath away from Arris', close enough that every whispered word brushed warm against them. Quinn's voice lowered further, turning into something meant only for the space between them.

"I want to be the reason you feel something…"

Quinn pressed herself more fully against the taller woman.

The promise of her gift lingered on her lips, close enough to tempt, but deliberately withheld. She wanted Arris to act. Wanted to hear the answer without having to drag it from her.

She wanted to feel that want.

That need.

That terrible little desperation to have her, to keep her — to need her.

But Quinn didn't kiss her.

Instead, she remained there, her fingers still tangled softly in Arris' hair, her thumb brushing near the corner of her mouth. In contrast, the faint shine of unshed tears remained trapped along Quinn's lashes.

Her eyes searched Arris' face, hungry for some sign.

Something.

For what exactly, even Quinn wasn't entirely certain.

All she knew was what she wanted.

She wanted Arris.

//: Sibylla Abrantes //:​

Quinn tried not to look at Sibylla as she checked the fallen guards. Her own people were fortunate enough to survive, hardened by the training they had been given. The woman who had accompanied her looked over at Quinn and nodded — understanding the next course of action. The group fanned and began to help the wounded, giving aid where they could and handling the situation. Quinn never gave them another look. Her focus was now on the Naboo noble.

Frustration furrowed her brow; it was an annoyance to hear the woman assume the Sith were the only terrors in the galaxy — the monsters the Republic was meant to push back. No, they were all monsters — some just accepted the monstrosity better than others.

"And is the Republic any different?" She wanted to shout, but she didn't. Quinn knew fighting would only make things worse, and that was something she didn't want. Still, her emotions were starting to bubble up; everything around her was going to chit, and there was very little the woman could do.

"YOUR Government was more than willing to cut off any contracts with the Sith. What about MY people? Are they considered less than yours because they live under a different banner? Are they considered monsters because of where they were born?"

Quinn covered her face for a moment; she could feel the composure leaving her. There was so much resentment towards the Republic; they had assumed who she was, what she was — before she could even try and prove their thoughts otherwise.

"You know nothing… about anything," Quinn mumbled as she dropped her hands from her face. Eyes settling on the woman, they had been in this situation before, and Quinn took to heart the words Sibylla had wisely given her.

But Quinn was now convinced it was a facade, taught by the Great Noble Houses of Naboo. While Quinn had taken the chance to learn about the galaxy, Sibylla remained in the small sphere of hope.

This was only more somore so when she watched the woman, confused by her question, with the Outbound Flight. Quinn raised an eyebrow as she watched and listened. From her understanding, this endeavor was Dominic Praxon 's thought child. She took him for someone who wanted the glory and the attention — only to ensure his next election. Another thing Quinn didn't quite understand.

But for the Voice of the Houses to not know anything, she scoffed.

"Does the right hand not talk to the left? The Outbound Flight, I was there, in that horrid hangar. I watched as my—" She paused; she didn't know what to call him. Was Dominic a friend? A companion? A business partner?

She needed to know.

CT-312 was up there… So was Eira Dyn and Arris… so many others…

Her breath caught as she felt one presence she hoped for… but wanted never to feel again. Bastila Sal-Soren was here on this horrible forsaken world… and a weight sat heavy on the Echani's heart.

Thankfully, Sibylla had cut off, and Quinn's eyes followed where hers were now. The brutality of the Sith now bled through the Force. She could feel it; an unnatural hunger cried out amongst the dead and the dying. At her side, her fists balled tightly. None of this was going according to the plan she had been given. Perhaps that was the plan — she was known for her bleeding heart, her inability to do what was necessary at times.

But she was different now. She had been labeled a monster — and so began the transformation.

Quinn watched as the shuttle spun out of control and crashed into the fields of flame. She didn't move; she didn't react, only listened to the frantic words from the woman beside her.

It was hopeless. She thought quietly. The lives aboard the shuttle were no longer theirs; they belonged to a new master, and her stomach twisted at the thought. She watched the horrors unfold as the bodies that had been thrown about, ragdolling like a child's abandoned toy…

They stood.

They moved.

They hungered…

Their bodies twitched and shambled along the edge, knowing where flesh lay. Something caught her attention as she looked towards one of her guards. They too were unbothered as they removed their weapons. Unspoken words between them, and then suddenly the sounds of guns echoed in the halls.

One shot, then two… then more. Each aimed out of mercy…

Another movement as they shifted, moving to sacrifice themselves for the woman. Her handmaiden, on the other hand, had a different job. Then she was revealed to be a Sith herself. She moved out towards the fields to fight, to make it off and head back to Eshan. That was the plan; it was their contingency.

"Sibylla," she spoke, her voice gentle despite the horrors they were seeing.

"This is the power of the Dark Side… what I fought so hard to avoid…" She tilted her head, seeing the dead move like this was nothing new. It was almost numbing.

"The dead, they aren't themselves anymore… reanimated to do their master's bidding. Sacrilegious."

They drew closer, and Quinn watched; she didn't move until the horde realized what awaited them. Quickly, they moved toward the open viewport. At that moment, Quinn shifted her feet; something sparked, growing in the palm of her hand. Almost in an instant, she had lunged forward at a blinding speed as the lightning that she held cracked and danced along the undead. The shock was enough to stop them momentarily.

"Sib, we need to run." Turning back, Quinn reached for the woman's hand. Part of her wondered whether she would take it or try her best to fend for herself. Quinn wouldn't wait to find out. They needed to move as the Kinetite seemed to only shock them.

Running now, Quinn wondered if she was holding back, or if the monsters were suddenly immune to what she threw at them. Still, stunning them bought them time.

As she ran, she could suddenly feel the tendrils of her bonds blip out of existence. Her eyes widened as usually that only meant one thing.

Death.

But unlike others, this one didn't burn or tear at her mind. Remembering what was mentioned over the communications, she now felt a blinding fury bloom in her chest. They rounded the next corner, and Quinn took the opportunity to try and shove Sibylla into the adjacent wall.

"I don't feel them anymore!" Her voice suddenly frantic, rattling under her breath.

"What is out there, Sibylla? Don't lie to me!"

A darkness fell over the Echani's features…

"Tell me…"

 

[Seraphina Corvinus]

WEAPONS: None
ALLIES: Daegon Corvinus | TAG: Jaun Smyth | ENEMIES: Everyone (Cracks in the sidewalk...?)

The dark-haired woman stayed quiet throughout the senator’s response, listening, rather than interrupting. It would have been rude, and it might also have disrupted the flow of information that in that moment…they desperately needed. She kept one hand tucked within Daegon’s while her other rest loosely in her lap after they took a seat. The situation room was easier for her to understand than the Crystal Forest had been. Every voice had a place and every little movement returned to her without being shattered into a thousand lies.

Even the senator's teacup had a place, heard when it touched the table.

Her lovely head tilted…There was something in the reply that unsettled her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She was gladdened to hear there had been some sort of attempt at an evacuation but was equally crestfallen that it hadn’t been more thorough. After all, Heaven’s Gate had been caught entirely unaware, and they had hundreds of staff. She had heard people screaming in panic from the farms below the mountain when the world shook. She had heard the alarms…Had he? Secure, in his government offices?

At least some people were safe even if some had chosen to fight. It was a bitter consolation that made her eyes sting from behind her blindfold. It felt like she was trying to rationalize the death of thousands by accepting the protection of a few. It felt like an excuse that she had no choice in…But it was everything that followed, that made her tense.

“Uh… I see. They made her upset with questions? Terrible, terrible. Mhm. Ok. Well, Mr. Corvinus,”

Her hand squeezed Daegon’s, trying to soothe his ire as much as possible.

“…Thank you for the update on our people, sir.”

Where her husband came off like fire, insistent, the woman at his side was cool water and infinitely more understanding. Her fingers shifted against Daegon’s and her brow furrowed a little in soft thought. That wasn’t what the man at her side had said at all. He had spoken of decisions, contracts, and threats. Of people with names and families and loyalties that stretched far beyond a single conversation. The senator made it sound like…

A child had thrown a tantrum.

“Senator…”, she breathed, and her head turned toward him once more with uncanny accuracy. Everyone in the galaxy with access to the Holo-Net heard the statement the Empress of the Sith put forward in response…Even if they did not have the full context. “I don’t think that Daegon meant someone just said something upsetting…Words have meaning...”

The winged woman paused and bit her cheek, trying very hard not to sound…Inept. It was such a simple statement, but it should have spoken volumes. It was easy to pretend that actions existed within an isolated bubble. But, they did not.

“I may not know very much about politics…But people have hurt each other for much less.”

Certainly, wars had begun for less. The thought of such ugliness in the galaxy made her stomach turn, but that was perhaps what Daegon was trying to make the senator understand. Not that the Echani Queen had been offended…But that someone had decided offending her would carry no consequence for the worlds that depended on the High Republic. They trusted this power-that-be to have their best interests at heart.

To keep them from burning. Again.

The difference now seemed to be that this senator thought they should expect to burn. That it should not shock or horrify them...

Her expression changed with the conversation, her emotions written on her sleeve. She felt…So helpless. The mention of Aether Verd stirred memories of days that had long passed. The Diathim did not know the Iron Mandalore at all. But, she knew of Isley Verd because she knew of Darth Metus and the Confederacy. Her stomach sank even further when she made the connection, and her slender shoulders got even smaller. “…Oh.”

She didn’t know enough to explain every branch of the family tree, twisted as it was, but she knew enough. There was not a world that she could imagine (true or false) where a Verd would not take the side of the once-upon-a-time Vicelord’s former apprentice. Seraphina would walk a battlefield alone, blind, for her husband. If they had children, she would have done anything at all for them.

There was no line that would not be crossed.

Why did anyone else imagine that other families loved less fiercely?

Had they even thought of that?

Maybe…That was the problem. She leaned slightly closer to Daegon when the distant impacts carried through earth and durasteel as vibrations from beneath her feet. Were there not other incidents to consider as well? Had the High Republic not probed the Blackwall without wondering whether or not the Sith might strike back?

All of this brutal, horrible, senseless death…To slake curiosity?

Seraphia could only liken it to the idea of playing with naphthex gel and expecting not to get burned. Well…The heat had come, and Thyferra was paying for it.

Her chin tucked down with the talk about the bacta supply being poisoned, and she tried not to get lost in jargon that was a bit beyond her. Xucphra was primarily the domain of her husband while she saw to smaller and less important details. Something was lingering in the back of her mind that felt like a huge emptiness on the horizon. What was that?

What exactly has been contaminated?

That question let a shiver run down her spine. It was a good thing to ask, she supposed, but remembering something her ears had shown her outside made very real fear start to rise again. The term “contaminated” was too broad and could mean many things. It could make the supply ineffective, dangerous, or even worse…Did they even know?

Her mouth went dry.

“…What does the contamination do?”

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Staff | Monsters

Allies: Madrona A’Mia Darth Strosius
Engaging: William Thule Andromeda Demir

"Kark not now. Are you alright?"

Obsidian eyes turned to him, glittering with rage, her echo rippling behind her. Oh how she loved him for fretting for worrying about her, but so long as she had Wraithspire, so long as she had her beloveds close by, she had nothing to fear. Her lips curled into a smile and she pressed on, one steady step after the other, pressing against the weight that the light brought to bear.

Master Thule turned his glowing palm on the attacking creatures and drug his hand in a gesture to rip the beam across the wicked conjurations, surely capable of evaporating them just as mist evaporates before the light of dawn.

Something screamed, as he moved the light, once, twice. Two shadows walkers vanished, banished from this plane, unable to withstand the light, but it didn’t matter. They would serve her still, in this battle again or the next, their loyalty was endless.

"Your evil ends here, Sith."

Lina laughed.

“Oh, my dear child.” she purred. “I am just getting started.”

Darkness surged again, heavier than before, pressing against the light that poured from his hand no longer reaching behind him, but seeking to drown him with each slow step she took towards him.

“Can you not feel it?” Around them Thyferra burned, poisons and blights had already been unleashed. "Death and despair consumes this planet."

High above them something shifted, a great void in the force grew but Lina's focus was here and now. Whatever happened in Thyferra's orbit was only of concern to those fighting in orbit.

“There is no victory for you here Jedi.”

She took another step, the darkness seeking to surround him, to engulf him entirely.

“Only death.”

 

[Mantys Thranx]

ATTN: Makko Vyres Jaun Smyth Helix Aricsias Renaud Tobias Dib

Mantys scuttled towards Makko, his massive seven-foot frame towering over the comparatively diminutive Jedi. The harsh glow of the monitors had cast deep shadows along his insectoid face. Large, compound eyes gave a slow blink.

"Ah-Ah!" Mantys chirped, delighted. He shifted slightly on the hook-like claws of his legs, the motion bringing his face into a warmer saturation of light. "Wonderful work you're doing, May-co, yes. I'm afraid we've lost contact with one of our rather important storage warehouses. Prior to contact, we have reason to believe that some ruffian was attempting to poison our bacta vats."

Mantys rubbed his barbed hands together as he continued. "Do try and reestablish contact with it, yes? Then I'll have another task for you, most certainly."

"Dr. Thranx!" An intern with a trembling frame jogged toward the hulking Vratix, her hands clutched around some sort of armored capsule. It had been decontaminated before making its way into the laboratory proper. "SERAPHIM has sent us a sample from the field. There's some sort of virus running rampant."

"A vi-rus?" Mantys enunciated the word in such a way that asked: are you certain that it is a virus? Not a bacteria, or a fungi, or a prion? How can you be so certain?

The intern paled even further, nearly dropping the parcel. Mantys was quick to retrieve it from her clammy hands. "Th-they're also sending live reports from the field. Dead soldiers are being turned into…into beasts!“ she exclaimed, anxiously wringing the sweat from her hands. "They're attacking both Republic soldiers and Sith troops. Wh-what if they get in here?!"

"They won't," Mantys dismissed easily as he held the capsule aloft. They might. He didn't know.

The frightened girl was abandoned to attend to another task as Mantys marched over to ann isolated extraction room, placing the armored container in the pass-through. A haze of pale blue sterilizing mist filled the small chamber before it dissipated quickly. A moment later, the door on the other side slid open, and the capsule disappeared into a pair of gloved hands.

"Ensure that the laminar flow is engaged and universal precautions are used," Mantys insisted into the speaker mounted near the monitor just outside the extraction room. He watched the screen intently.

Letter spat across the screen. All Cs, As, Gs, and Ts. They moved rapidly, each sequence building off of the next. Occasionally, one of the base pairs mismatched against a reference sequence. Those were hilighted by a bright yellow dot.

After a few minutes, a voice crackled over the speaker: "We'll have to reflex to a viral exome, but we've already found traces of Krytos virus."

"Krytos?" Mantys hummed in surprise. He adjusted his glasses with one foreleg, tapping a spiny projection gently against a lens. "Why, I haven't heard of that in quite some time. I suppose that is good news for our human brethren, though." He chuckled dryly.

Krytos was an agonizing virus, but it didn't affect humans. Fortunately, it was rather well characterized and had a rather long incubation period. Symptoms were quite obvious in the form of splotched skin and painful boils - that would make quarantine easier.

Double fortunate, were their rylca stores.

"Do let me know what else you find," Dr. Thranx said. "Based on the preliminary results, I have a feeling we'll have to corroborate with microbiology. Perhaps other disciplines. Do take care."

A message would be relayed to Senator Smyth's office, this time via speech-to-text:

It appears that the Sith are intent on poisoning this planet and her people. Really, what do they intend to do with Thyferra if they managed to chase the Republic away? All this fuss for nothing.

Regardless, we've received a sample containing an unknown pathogen. Or pathogens, I should say; we've already found traces of Krytos. Whatever it is they've released, it's not something that immediately matches anything in our microbial libraries.

Oh, but look at me, prattling on. The same fellow who sent us the sample has also sent us a report from the field. The dead are becoming hideous beasts, attacking everything in sight! Can you imagine? How I would love to study one. Do remember that my birthday is coming up.

 

[Judah Lesan]

WEARING: Robes
WEAPONS: 2 Lightsabers
ALLIES: Lorn Reingard | Acier Moonbound
ENEMIES: Srina Talon | Mercy

Srina's voice reached him before Judah could decide whether the last few seconds had gone badly or catastrophically.

And yet… You seem determined to return to my care.

The words slipped through the fractures in his mind with far too much ease. Judah felt them settle into places already worn thin by more than a year of her attention, and for a moment the refinery seemed farther away than it should have been. He could still see Srina beyond the red blade and still hear the fight breaking open around them, but the edges blurred beneath the simple fact that she was inside his head again.

That was the part he hated most.

Her.

She had a way of making something feel familiar simply because she had repeated it often enough. She could speak with such certainty about who Judah was that, on bad days, he could no longer remember whether she was lying. The cell, the guards, and even the nightmares had all become secondary to that.

His saber slammed into something that was not there.

The red blade stopped inches from Srina, caught against a barrier so dense that the impact jarred all the way up Judah's arm. Crimson light spilled across her face and painted molten reflections into her eyes while his weapon hissed uselessly against the invisible wall between them.

For one brief, irrational second, Judah pushed harder.

Nothing changed.

Srina did not stagger. She barely seemed inconvenienced.

That was somehow worse.

Judah's jaw tightened as the blade strained against her defense, close enough that he could see the faint smile beginning to form on her lips. He had thrown everything behind that attack, all the anger that had erupted out of the nightmare, all the hatred that had suddenly felt easier to understand than anything else in his fractured head, and she had stopped it with one raised hand.

"There you are, Judah… Let the hate flow through you."

That stopped him more effectively than the barrier had.

The pressure behind his saber suddenly felt different. A moment earlier he had been trying to force his way through it. Now Judah found himself staring at the crimson blade caught between them, at the red light washing across Srina's features, and wondering why the entire scene felt horribly familiar.

He was angry. There was no point pretending otherwise. He hated Srina Talon with an intensity that felt almost clean compared to everything else rattling loose inside his head. A second ago, he had wanted nothing more complicated than to put the blade through her.

Red.

The color dragged the dream back close enough that he could almost see Katara falling again. His grip tightened, but the pressure behind the strike weakened.

What if Srina was right?

He did not believe for a second that he belonged to her, but the rest was harder to dismiss. The hate was real. The blade was real. The way attacking her had felt disturbingly natural was real too.

Judah's expression changed as the certainty drained out of it.

That hesitation cost him.

Lightning cracked across the refinery before his mind caught up with the danger. Judah turned too late, the red saber only beginning to pull away from Srina's barrier when the stray arc tore into him.

Every muscle locked at once. Electricity ripped through his body and hurled him away from Srina hard enough that the refinery floor arrived before he had any meaningful objection to the idea. Judah rolled once and came to a stop with smoke curling faintly from the stolen jacket and the distinct impression that several parts of him had filed formal complaints.

For a few seconds he did not move. Then his fingers twitched around the lightsaber hilt.

"Ow."

It was not much, but it confirmed he was alive.

Judah dragged in a breath and pushed himself onto one elbow. His thoughts had scattered on impact, which was impressive considering how little organization they had possessed beforehand. Somehow the crimson lightsaber was still in his hand, humming away as though it had contributed absolutely nothing to the problem.

"Okay," he managed, voice rough. "I'm starting to miss the cell."

Judah considered that for half a second and immediately shook his head.

"Wait. Nope. No, I'm not."

Being electrocuted was still better.

Nearby, Lorn had committed himself to Mercy with the sort of opening attack Judah might have admired thirty years ago, before experience taught him that launching your entire body toward something built like a siege engine was generally a poor way to discover whether it could catch you.

Mercy caught him.

Judah winced.

Even with his brain functioning like someone had dropped it down a flight of stairs, that mistake was obvious.

"Well that was stupid."

There was no malice behind the observation. Lorn had helped him, steadied him, and ushered him into the refinery without knowing anything about the half-barefoot lunatic who had wandered out of the smoke. Judah appreciated all of that, but it did not make the attack less stupid.

Mercy answered by trying to turn Lorn into something considerably flatter while Srina filled the space around them with lightning. Acier moved quickly to recover the situation, using Lorn as leverage to break him free before throwing enough telekinetic force into Mercy to make Judah reconsider which of the people in the room qualified as reckless.

Then Mercy started talking again, and Judah was beginning to understand why Acier disliked her.

Every word was aimed somewhere vulnerable. She dragged Throneworld, Jakku, Arris, and Abregado-rae into the open, naming things Judah did not know enough about to follow. He did not need the details to recognize what Mercy was doing, because Srina had spent more than a year doing the same thing to him. She was finding the wound, pressing on it, and waiting for the person attached to it to become something easier to control.

Acier was already moving after Mercy, anger sharpening everything about him. Judah forced himself upright with more effort than he would ever admit to later.

"Hey, kid."

He was not sure Acier heard him over the fighting, so Judah tried again while leaning against a piece of refinery equipment for what he insisted was tactical support.

"Acier."

The red blade still hummed in his hand. Judah looked at it, then at the blue and purple in Acier's, and for once the comparison did not make his stomach turn.

"Don't let her into your head."

His eyes shifted toward Mercy before returning to Acier. Judah lifted the crimson saber slightly, enough to make the point impossible to miss.

"Red blade, bad history, and some very questionable memories I'd personally like to return for a refund. None of that decides whether I'm the bad guy." Judah nodded toward Acier's weapons. "And blue doesn't make you good."

The humor softened without disappearing completely.

"What you did yesterday doesn't get to make the next choice for you. Neither does she." Judah tilted his head toward Mercy . "So maybe don't let the giant murder lady pick your next move."

That sounded almost like advice, and possibly even good advice. Judah was going to count it as progress.

His attention returned to Srina.

The hatred was still there. He suspected it would be for a very long time. The difference was that now he could hear her encouragement underneath it, could remember the pleased curve of her mouth when he attacked, and could see how readily she had welcomed the ugliest thing he felt.

That made the hatred suddenly less trustworthy.

"You know," Judah said, rolling one shoulder as feeling slowly returned to his arm, "for someone who keeps asking why I ran away, you're making a surprisingly strong case for my decision."

The red saber lowered into something resembling a guard. He could still see Katara beneath crimson light whenever he blinked too long, and there were too many missing pieces between the dreams, the weapon in his hand, and Srina's confidence for Judah to know exactly what she had done to him.

He did know one thing.

If Srina wanted him angry enough to stop thinking, then thinking was probably the most irritating thing he could do.

Judah's mouth pulled into a crooked smile.

"Sorry. Apparently I'm difficult."

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Objective 1
Friends: Acier Moonbound | Judah Lesan
Foes: Mercy | Srina Talon
Mention: Vizion Trozky | Briana Sal-Soren​

The searing impact of golden plasma against central armor plating delivered far less kinetic shock than Lorn anticipated. Mercy didn't attempt to dodge or parry. Instead, the Titan leaned directly into the thrust, stepping forward to absorb the strike on her chest. A feral growl escaped her throat as her armored fingers clamped around the glowing blade. Through the connection of the weapon, Lorn felt the sickening heat of her own flesh sizzling beneath the metal plating, yet she only glared down at him with a monstrous, unfazed gaze. In that terrifying moment, the absolute desperation of Acier's past attempt to dismantle the Sith Covenant from within became horrifyingly clear. Taking on a creature like this head-on was a fool's errand.

Lorn yanked frantically on his hilt, but his dominant hand remained pinned, leaving his right flank entirely exposed. Before he could twist away, Mercy's free fist launched forward like a battering ram. The impact shattered several of his ribs with an agonizing crack, driving the air completely from his lungs. Memories of his old Master's scolding voice flashed through his mind, chastising him for charging headlong into battle without a care in the galaxy. He was still making the same arrogant mistakes.

Agony doubled as a stray bolt of violet lightning from Srina tore into the fray, catching Lorn square in the chest. Pain flooded his nervous system in a blinding white haze.

Thankfully, the kid possessed far more composure and tactical sense than Lorn ever had. Acier vaulted through the air, planting a boot onto Lorn's shoulder to propel himself forward while using the momentum to kick Lorn clear of the monster's grasp. Released from the grip and a swift kick from Mercy, Lorn went tumbling backward across the polished floor, crashing heavily into a jagged piece of the ruined blast door.

Air hissed through his teeth as he lay amidst the twisted metal, gasping for breath against the stabbing fire in his side. Even worse, the comforting, radiant tide of Briana's presence in the Force suddenly vanished from his senses, leaving an unsettling void in its wake. Lorn groaned, paralyzed by pain and the crushing weight of his own failures. Almost every major loss in his life boiled down to him trying too hard, rushing in, and leaving himself empty with nothing to show for it. He felt useless, an obstacle only complicating the fight for everyone else.

A sharp chime broke through the haze of self-doubt. His comm-link flickered to life in his ear, carrying a incoming message from Knight Trozky warnings of imminent Force nullification sweeping the sector.

The brief transmission jolted his memory, forcing him to picture the people depending on this mission. High Councilor Vizion, Grandmaster Ala, his daughter, the people of Thyferra, and Acier fighting for his life just feet away. Everything was still moving according to plan. All they had to do was remain stubborn, absorb the punishment, and keep these monsters occupied until reinforcements could aid the people of Thyferra and their rapid response army.

"Copy," Lorn grunted painfully into the comm, ensuring the signal reached Acier's receiver so his partner knew what was coming. Tapping the unit again, he added, "Briana, if you are out there, keep fighting. We have them where we want them."

Rise, he commanded himself, forcing his mind to override the screaming agony in his chest. He owed everyone who believed in him that much. If his friends and family were standing in this ruined hall, they wouldn't let this wickedness rest. They would stand and bleed.

Slowly, agonizingly, Lorn dragged his boots beneath him and pushed up from the cold floor. His left hand braced against his fractured ribs while his right extended toward the dark corner where his lightsaber had skittered away. The Force responded sluggishly, strained beneath the suffocating dark side aura filling the room, but Lorn focused every drop of his willpower on the hilt. The cylinder shuddered against the metal floor, scraped across the grit, and finally snapped back into his bruised palm with a heavy, reassuring clatter.

Lorn straightened his spine, ignited the golden blade, and prepared for the suffering.

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

SHIELD | ARMOR | LIGHTSABER | DRONES | SHIP | PISTOL​

"Wonderful work you're doing, May-co, yes. I'm afraid we've lost contact with one of our rather important storage warehouses. Prior to contact, we have reason to believe that some ruffian was attempting to poison our bacta vats."

"Th-they're also sending live reports from the field. Dead soldiers are being turned into…into beasts!“ she exclaimed,

"It's..." Makko started, but he couldn't be bothered to correct the scientist. There was bigger matters at stake.

The entire world was at stake.

"Let me look into this."

Makko remained at the his terminal cluster, still deeply immersed in the isolated laboratory systems. The hard disconnect he had thrown earlier kept their operational tech running locally.

The wider network of compromised industrial nodes still whispered at the edges of his awareness.

He reached out into the net. Through mechu-deru he felt the foreign architecture spreading outward like a slow infection, rewriting what it touched and leaving behind the distinctive signature of the reanimation protocol.

He followed that signature further.

Somewhere beyond the sealed laboratory walls was something that registered both as a life form in the Force and as something technological that he could manipulate.

Their motor functions were no longer organic. Power had been integrated into ruined tissue, neural pathways overwritten by the something between dense code and a virus.

A pack of technobeasts, moving with the staggered, purposeful gait. Makko galvanised his resolve. The Force move around him.

He extended his consciousness along the remaining clean pathways and then into the corrupted ones, letting mechu-deru settle over the pack like a net drawn tight.

The living being they had been were gone. He acted quickly. There was no negotiation. A single, precise command raced through their collective architecture and ordered every critical process to cease.

The feedback was immediate. Motor functions locked and failed. One after another a group of compromised hosts simply stopped.

An entire pack of technobeast zombies simply ceased to exist. Their biology failing instantly when Makko tore their technological components apart.

"I've dealt with the nearest group," Makko muttered. "But there are so many more out there..."

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
ALLIES: Srina Talon | Mercy | Tobias Dib | Darth Strosius | Lina Ovmar | Madrona A’Mia | Helix | Tobias Dib | Taeli Raaf
ENEMIES: Briana Sal-Soren

Taeli's warning reached Gerwald before the western approach narrowed around him.

The priority transmission cut through the interference still chewing at Sith communications. The suppression field aboard the Grace of Theed had expanded, and Taeli's calculations suggested the Republic would eventually extend its reach toward the surface. She had identified the Grace as the source and was already moving to eliminate it, knowing she would be fighting without the Force once she entered its reach.

Gerwald listened without slowing.

He and Taeli Raaf had disagreed over Thyferra. She had favored preserving what could still serve the Empire, while Gerwald had pushed for pressure severe enough to deny the Republic time to recover. Yet there was nothing cautious in her answer now. She had identified the threat and was walking directly toward it.

Gerwald could respect that.

"Understood," he replied. "Remove it."

He shifted to the Second Legion command frequency.

<<< "Force suppression from the Grace of Theed is expanding. Surface exposure is considered probable. If contact with the Force is lost, conventional command protocols take precedence. No formation stops because its Sith cannot reach for it." >>>

The Dreadguard would understand what that meant for them. If their connection vanished, training and the last orders given would have to carry them until Gerwald could reach them conventionally. The loss would hurt their cohesion, but it would not make them helpless.

The Dread Wolf forwarded the message to all Sith on the planet's surface.


Reports from elsewhere on Thyferra followed.

@Tobias Dibb had escalated the assault dramatically. Sith bombers had struck the capital and Republic formations with buzz droids, corrosive payloads, bunker busters, heavy proton ordnance, and Nihilblight. At the same time, Republic forces were pushing deeper into the industrial park toward its central hub.

Gerwald absorbed the information for what it meant tactically. Every new disaster demanded another Republic answer. Forces committed to the capital could not reinforce the refineries, and troops occupied with contamination could not pressure every Sith position simultaneously.

Whether Thyferra survived whole or broken made little difference to him. The Sith had rebuilt this world for their purposes once before. They could do so again.

The web began to collapse before Gerwald reached her.

He felt the change through the Force as the luminous connections stretching across the battlefield loosened and withdrew. What had been a vast network of shared resolve narrowed by degrees until the presence ahead stood increasingly alone. Gerwald had already recognized the effect the connection was having on the Republic defense, but he still did not know who had been responsible for maintaining it.

Not until the smoke thinned enough for him to see her.

Briana Sal-Soren .

Gerwald slowed and sent another message to all the Sith forces.

<<< I have found the source of their Battle Meditation. It has stopped for now, and intend to end it permanently. >>>

Recognition carried him briefly toward another life, one where the title of Lord Commander had rested on his shoulders and responsibility had possessed a simpler shape. There had been people who needed protecting and threats that needed stopping. Gerwald had possessed the strength to stand between the two, so he had.

Briana and Valery had simply been two among many.

That did not make the memory insignificant. Gerwald remembered the conviction behind it more than the particulars. He had believed without hesitation that his place was between innocent lives and whatever intended to take them.

In some ways, he still did.

“You wear the face of someone I once knew.”

Gerwald regarded her quietly.

Perhaps that was what she needed to believe.

The evidence supporting Briana's conclusion was certainly there. The uniform of the Lord Commander was gone. Corruption had settled into eyes once untouched by it, and the man who had defended Naboo now commanded soldiers burning their way across Thyferra.

Gerwald required no explanation for how he had arrived here.

There had been a price demanded of him, and when everything he had once valued was weighed against the one life he could not accept losing, Gerwald had chosen. He had known what the choice meant when he made it. He had known what it might make of him. The price had been worth paying. Whatever Briana needed to call the man standing before her did not change that.

Her white lightsaber ignited.

“But I’m afraid, Darth, that this is the first we’ve met.”

“No,” Gerwald corrected simply. “Not Darth.”

There was no offense behind it. The moniker existed, but Gerwald had never cared enough to use it. He had never required another name to make sense of himself. Gerwald Lechner had been sufficient through every title, allegiance, triumph, failure, and choice that followed.

He knew precisely who stood before her.

Briana formally introduced herself, drawing an unmistakable boundary between the girl who had known him and the woman she had become. That, at least, Gerwald understood. His own memories of her were equally incomplete. The Briana he remembered had once needed someone else to stand between her and the fire. This woman had just held thousands of others together through the Force while an invasion closed around them. Whatever years separated Naboo from Thyferra had shaped her into someone Gerwald had never met.

Perhaps her introduction was more appropriate than she realized.

The detonations behind him came without warning.

The western approach erupted in a chain of violent concussions, the earth trembling beneath Gerwald's boots as ancient trunks cracked and surrendered to gravity. He turned as they crashed across the corridor one after another, throwing dirt, ash, and splintered wood through the air until the path behind him disappeared beneath an interlocking barricade.

Pain flashed through Gerwald's connection with the Dreadguard as their formation broke beneath falling timber and debris. Confusion followed, then the disciplined response he expected from them. One presence disappeared abruptly beneath the collapse while others strained against the obstruction and began accounting for their own.

His jaw tightened.

Briana had waited until he crossed before closing the road behind him.

Clever.

Gerwald did not turn back. The Dreadguard had earned his trust long before Thyferra, and trust meant more than believing in them when he was there to direct every movement. They would recover their wounded, account for their dead, and find their way through the obstruction.

When his attention returned to Briana, a small movement near her hand caught his eye. Something slipped into the dust beside her heel.

A crystal.

Gerwald did not recognize its purpose, so he simply noted where it fell.

“I am Jedi Knight, Briana Sal-Soren,” she announced, raising her white blade. “And this is where your conquest ends.”

“Conquest?”

Gerwald's brow lifted slightly.

“I am simply taking back what belongs to me.”

Fire shifted through the smoke behind him while his gaze remained fixed on hers.

“Do you really believe we came here uninvited? Have you forgotten your history?”

He allowed the question to stand without explanation.

There had been doors on Thyferra the Sith never needed to force and information placed into their hands that should never have escaped this world. Their offensive had begun long before missiles crossed the atmosphere, enabled by someone Briana apparently still counted among those she defended.

She could decide what that meant.

Gerwald's hand settled around his lightsaber.

“You remember the man who stood between you and the fire.”

A trace of something warmer touched his expression. Not regret...

...Memory.

“I remember him too.”

Gerwald's thumb pressed the activator. Crimson light snapped into existence between them, joining the white glow of Briana's blade while smoke and ash drifted through the space she had deliberately created for the two of them.

“And I remember you.”

Not the woman standing before him, not entirely. That was the point Briana had made whether she understood it or not. Gerwald knew the girl who had once needed someone stronger to stand between her and death. The Jedi before him had become capable of carrying the strength of thousands across a battlefield, then willingly released them when the fight finally reached her.

That was someone Gerwald intended to know for himself.

His attention dropped briefly toward the crystal at her heel before returning to her blade. Briana had already demonstrated that nothing about the ground between them should be taken for granted. The collapsed approach behind him had made that lesson clear enough.

Gerwald shifted his stance and moved.

He did not charge blindly into the distance she had left between them. The Dread Wolf closed it with controlled purpose, lightsaber held low until the final steps brought Briana within reach. Then the red blade came upward in a powerful diagonal cut intended to meet her guard and force the Jedi to commit to the fight she had worked so carefully to arrange.

If Briana wanted to discover whether the man from Naboo still existed, Gerwald was content to let her find the answer herself.

Spoiler: summary

• Force suppression may reach the surface: Gerwald warns all Sith forces to be ready to operate without the Force.
• Tobias has dramatically escalated the assault, forcing the Republic to divide resources across multiple crises.
• Briana's Battle Meditation has ended: Gerwald identifies her as its source and informs Sith forces.
• Briana isolates Gerwald from the Dreadguard, but the surviving Dreadguard remain active behind the obstruction.
• Gerwald hints that the Sith invasion was enabled from inside Thyferra.
• Gerwald engages Briana directly.

 

[Aiden Porte]

OBJ:1
Location: Fields-Hold The Swarm
Seren Gwyn​

The Republic was on the offensive now, and yet something else drastic seemed to be happening. A life sacrificed, a voice in the Force, and creatures running rampant across the battlefield. The Jedi Knight's attack hit its mark as expected. However, he didn't follow up, as he was soon under fire by the arrival of creatures that had escaped the initial blast of light that scorched those in the distance. There were some that got away, and here they were, going after anything and everything they could.

Aiden utilized one of the blades at his side with his free hand. They closed in, and the Jedi Knight moved against them, lightsaber in one hand and a single dagger in the other. He maneuvered through them, his full training kicking into gear. Not just Jedi, but his training with the military academies on Theed. He had been through every training course they could offer, especially when he served as a guard to the then Queen Kalantha. It had been one of the necessities put in place for her protection.

He shredded through them, lightsaber and blade piercing flesh. It was the monstrosities and the Sith that were against him. However, in between it all, they were suddenly turning on each other.

Then Seren was upon him once more. Her attack came quickly and swiftly, forcing his weapon down, yet his other hand still held onto the second blade. The momentum from her strike forced his lightsaber away, and he brought the dagger upward, looking to pierce her abdomen.

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Objective: 1
Allies: SO and their allies Tobias Dib
Enemies: THR, their allies and Aiden Porte

Seren had committed herself to driving Aiden's lightsaber down, and for one dangerous heartbeat that left them far closer than she preferred. The warning came through the Force almost simultaneously with the movement of his free arm, amber eyes dropping toward the dagger rising toward her abdomen.

She twisted away rather than trying to catch it.

The blade passed close enough for Seren to feel its movement against her clothing, but she continued with the turn, abandoning the pressure she had been applying to his lightsaber rather than allowing herself to become trapped inside the reach of both weapons. Her injured shoulder protested sharply as she moved, but she ignored it, planting one boot and using the Force to carry herself backward several meters. Voidstar came with her, its crimson-cored blade immediately rising between them as she landed and continued another step away from Aiden.

For the first time since their fight had begun, Seren did not immediately close the distance again.

The battlefield had changed around them while they fought. The twisted creatures that had interrupted Aiden were no longer simply another hazard wandering through the smoke. Some attacked anything they could reach, others turned upon one another, their movements accompanied by sounds that made even Seren's stomach tighten. Whatever had been unleashed here had long since escaped the clean boundaries of Sith and Republic, and the Force carried the ugliness of it everywhere.

Then her commlink erupted with overlapping reports.

Republic forces were pushing deeper into the industrial district. Anti-air fire was cutting into the bombers overhead. Somewhere beyond her immediate position, the Reaper had turned its weapons upon Sith forces and departing craft, while other reports spoke of Republic units pressing farther into the facilities. Seren listened without answering at first, absorbing the fragments as they came while her attention remained fixed upon Aiden.

A tremendous concussion rolled through the industrial park before the channel cleared. The ground shifted beneath her boots, and Seren's gaze flicked upward as something burning tore across the clouded sky. It vanished behind the refinery structures before striking somewhere beyond them, the resulting impact sending a tremor through the duracrete and scattering debris from already damaged machinery.

More fire crossed the heavens after it.

Seren drew a slow breath and eased another step toward the partial shelter of one of the processing structures, never turning her back upon Aiden. Whatever Tobias had intended when he brought her here, the battlefield was changing too quickly for her to pretend their duel existed apart from it.

Her thumb brushed the commlink.

"I hear you."

That was all. The reports merely told her what she needed to know: the Republic was pressing harder, the skies were becoming increasingly dangerous, and remaining exposed in the middle of the industrial district was becoming a worse idea by the second.

There had been a time when the Jedi standing across from her would have represented something entirely different. Someone she might have fought beside without hesitation, someone whose presence could once have meant reinforcement rather than opposition. That part of Seren had not disappeared simply because she had chosen another path, and perhaps that was why the distance between them felt more bitter now than she cared to admit.

Voidstar remained raised between them. Seren did not speak to him again. She simply stopped pursuing him.

If Aiden chose to continue, she would defend herself. If he gave her the space to break away, Seren intended to take it. There was somewhere beyond him she still needed to reach, and increasingly little reason to remain here exchanging blows while Thyferra came apart around them.

 

[Rik Perris]

BACTA REFINERIES — INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX & REFINERIES
THYFERRA

THE WARRIOR'S INFINITE OPUS​

Though he was on the move now, when he was implored to depart and seek out the second Sith who had appeared in the realm of his senses, the Lightbound Guardian did not budge so quickly, for there were still matters of import to be addressed...

Spoiler

Several minutes earlier....

'We cannot give in to grief now,' Rik had received through the space between him and Briana. 'There will be time to mourn our fallen later. Right now, the living still need us. Go.’

Her urging came in that minute of his vigil of silence, but Rik didn't respond right away. Cahir was far from the first comrade he had lost over the years, for the path of the Jedi could be as hazardous as that of any active duty soldier, if not more so. It wasn't grief that stalled him.

'Cut off those Sith.’

But adding Cahir to the tally did, another brick in the monolithic tower of his faith in the vigilant path. Another transmission, notifying him of the arrival of the High Republic's Relief Fleet gave Rik further pause, after which he made a copy of the report data and footage of the infected to share it with Briana.

'Go,' she urged him again, more forcefully this time, 'I’ve got this.’

He didn't doubt her capabilities. He had personal witness that she was an outstanding Jedi Knight, but even then... he didn't yet budge. He breathed out, sighing under his breath.

“I would cleanse the pit of Hell itself, Briana; there is no need for concern. I will not stray.”

He tapped once on his comm display. A small archive transmitted from his comm to hers.

“Sending you a copy of the reports and field recorder footage Cahir gathered,” he said, not looking at her as he prepared to leave, pulling at the wrist of each crushgaunt that came as part of the armour. His voice was straightforward and solemn in tone, the imagery of what he saw on the live feed playing in his thoughts, only further confirming what he believed this was, “Republic can't be landing more troops and aid here blind to the possible risk of infection. This info has to get into the right hands or more lives will be at risk. One of us must succeed in that task.”

The Corellian stood and swept the green length of his cloak back, where it billowed momentarily before settling against his armoured form. Only then did he look at her again, younger still than he had been when they first met, a collection of days that had no place entering his thoughts, now.

“Otherwise if you gain contact with above, direct them to my comm. I'll handle everything from here." That was a point he would not budge on, not with what she was going to be up against. "As for the crystals," which he gained thanks to another comrade, Romi Jade , during his time with the Foundation, "recently reattuned and recharged." That took hours of effort, but Rik was an immovable force of will, rendering this trap into something rather difficult to escape. "Each crystal makes up the points of a cage; it must be oriented east to west or it won't work. Particular, yes, but effective."

Then he stepped away.

"Force willing, I will see you soon."

This wasn't at all how he'd pictured it would go, but the best laid plains? He didn't keep a count of how many times those had to be binned mid-mission, but it was to the extent that it was the rule rather than the exception.

However, the last time he and Briana had teamed up in defence of a world a couple of years ago, that had been Coruscant, and he’d kept her from being crushed, but couldn’t avoid her being knocked out by the crumbling section of the Coruscant temple they’d been in. He ended up having to carry her unconscious form out of there, once he'd buried a couple of Dark Side Elite in rubble, after blasting them with the shotgun.

She was on her own with this one, a fact he had to give up to the Force—marginally harder when you gave a damn about a person—and what he nonetheless did, as he surged onward, towards where he would find the flame-bearing Sith. He held no illusion that he would be catching them by surprise: alone he was unmistakable in the Force, but between himself and the make of his armour, he was a beacon of the Light.

No, they would see him coming.

LOADOUT
TEMPLAR-Class Jedi War Plate • 2 x Jedi Imbued Kolcta Grenades • 1x PGEM "Gravetail" Vibroblade • 1x Blue-Bladed Lightsaber

MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU
Briana Sal-Soren

PRAY FOR MY ENEMIES
Varin Mortifer​

 

[Kito]

//: Aerik Lechner //: Irina Jesart //:
//: Equipment in Sig //:

Kito was impressed. Her eyes narrowed as the heat from her ochre gaze locked onto the girl. They seemed to be about her age, close; perhaps in another lifetime they could have been friends. She would have to wait and see when it was her turn to return to the Force. This girl, though, would only be another notch on the steel of her blade.

They clashed, sparks and flame flew, and Kito found it interesting that the girl, a Sith, bothered to save the foolish boy she had brought with her. But Kito remembered the way they looked at each other. The thought only strengthened her resolve and her grip on the blessed blade.

As much as Kito wanted to focus on the girl, assuming she was the stronger of the two, her attention remained split. It was unfortunate, but it would save her life in the end.

She held the girl's blade, keeping it from cutting through her. But the Force shifted, Kito now aware of her hand shifting from the hilt of the saber. A smirk curled along the silent Jedi as she saw this as an opportunity. Pressure weighed against her frame, but she returned it, using the Force to root her feet where she stood. Her center of gravity became a ball of lead, refusing to budge as the telekinetic push only slid her feet an inch or two back.

Then Kito pushed forward with the blade, seeing the single-handed grip against her two. The heavy odachi flared with more flame, white fire crawling farther along the edge as it reached for the girl's hands, her arms, anything close enough for the heat to touch.
But the boy seemed to wake up.

He barked orders, then decided to help his partner. Kito caught Aerik's movement from the corner of her eye. Still, her blade was already locked against Irina's, her weight shifting as she prepared to turn the bind into a thrust. She needed to protect herself, but more importantly, she needed to keep him out of this game for two.

Her heel twisted into the ground, the front of her foot lifting slightly.

Then it came down.

The soil answered.

As Aerik charged forward, a thick slab of rock and mineral tore upward through the transport, stopping its movement and rooting the machine in place. Stone split between them, the sudden wall cutting him off, if only for the moment.

It was all Kito needed.

She pushed hard against Irina's one-handed grip, forcing her arms upward or off to the side — wherever Kito's weight and the bind carried them. The opening was followed immediately by her foot, wreathed in the same white flame, hot enough to threaten whatever armor, cloth, or flesh it touched.

Kito kicked hard into the broken guard.

And if Irina stumbled, the odachi was already coming.

The heavy blade came crashing down from above, white fire screaming along its edge as Kito aimed to split her in two.

"Die."

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Darth Prazutis //: Taiia Locke //:
//: Attire //:
//: Equipment //:
//: Bow & Arrows //: Cybernetic Eye //: Jacket //: Arrows of Absence x 25 //: Bag of Absencite x 5ea //:

The battlefield no longer mattered. Her fight was right in front of her. The sword he drew was intimidating as she quickly understood what it could do to her if she was caught. He didn't have to keep her alive; with her dead — he could have Odessen… the bargain becomes nullified. The thought of what they would do, how they would burn a world her wife had cultivated and made a home… infuriated the Corellian. She hated being seen as she was, her weakness so obvious that it drove her insane.

He wasn't wrong.

That's what she hated the most.

Taiia was never supposed to find out because all of it hung so shamefully on her conscience. But it was all she had. Secrets were worth billions; the ones that were locked away in her head could make her into the richest person in the galaxy — but at what cost. Having Taiia know how many lives ended to keep her safe brought her too far into this world that Allyson kept from her.

"You put her in danger... you forced her into this disgusting world of ours Prazutis!"

Her beautiful, perfect wife, untouched by the horrors and the blood-soaked hands of Allyson Locke.

"She was never supposed to be apart of it... she was never supposed to know what I really am..."

That's how it was supposed to be. Taiia was her sacred sanctuary, and Prazitus ruined it all. Allyson felt dirty, stained, and not worth the woman's time. The urge to run hung heavy in the back of her mind. Doubt swirled, wondering if Taiia would have been safer if she had never made this deal.

Her grip tightened around the bow as he continued talking. She hated that he was right. Prazutis had done nothing that broke their agreement. His curiosity got the best of him, and he had never named her. Yet Taiia knew; she already knew everything. Allyson wanted to scream; maybe that would make her feel better, but it wouldn't change anything.

Taiia knew what a monster she was, how easily she sold out her comrades.

The Sith kept showing Allyson the mirror, showing her that her one weakness was the woman.

His voice boomed over the battle, and Allyson cursed under her breath. She would make him pay for whatever he had done. There was no reason for his curiosity, and all he did was shine a light over the only way to get under the Corellian's skin. To everyone, she was impenetrable. Nothing stopped her. Nothing held her back. But that was when Taiia was an unknown.

Her secret.

The only one worth keeping.

As his bellowing voice finished echoing, the Corellian faded into the Force. Her presence was hidden deep within the recesses. She crept silently, never leaving a footstep or a rustle of the field. All Allyson needed was another opportunity. One that would allow her an opening to strike, to drive the sharp tip of her arrow through the paper skin of his neck.

Then Taiia would be safe again.

She drew an arrow, infusing it with the Force. She planted it where she stood. It was an anchor, one that she could recall when necessary. She drew another arrow and strung it tight, bending the curve of the bow with her strength. She aimed just at his feet; her goal was to explode the arrow. This wouldn't harm him; she wasn't foolish enough to think that something so simple would catch him off guard.

Allyson aimed, took a deep breath, then released it. At the end, she fired the explosive arrow, aiming it at his feet. She didn't wait for the explosion, but instead fired another anchoring arrow near him once again. Hoping that the smoke from the explosion was distracting enough.

And with a surge of energy, Allyson focused on the arrow she just shot. This would allow her to get close enough to Prazutis. It would give her a chance to suddenly able be able to release another armor-piercing arrow at his chest. As she came out of the short-range teleport, she would release the arrow and attempt to teleport back to where she had originally set the first arrow.

The timing needed to be perfect: the explosion, the first teleport, the barbed arrow, and then enough time and energy to zip back through the short-range teleport.

It was a gamble, as her movement skills were limited—but if she could succeed, it would be worth it.

 

[William Thule]

In Brightest Day
In Blackest Night

ALAZHI FIELDS​

“Only death.”

"No."

Yet despite his denial, the darkness pressed in all around and for a moment it seemed as though it might swallow up the two Jedi entirely, nothing but a thin ribbon of light piercing through the morass as William felt the weight of her words, all the more palpable by the Vratix and Republic soldiers he could feel perishing beneath withering fire and grasping vines.

Then there came a shrieking sound from overhead as a flight of Republic starfighters swarmed in from orbit. William heard the sharp, whining report of their laser cannons as they moved to strafe the landed Sith shuttles.

The Relief Fleet had arrived.

Trust in the Force.

William let the Sith's enjoyment of the fight pour over him and through him.

The Light went out.

A blast of telekinetic energy rippled from Master Thule's still open palm to knock back the advancing Sith.

Then he moved on instinct in the darkness, trusting to the Force entirely. His indigo blade whipped out to the side, blindingly fast for one who had always told others he was a master of just Makashi, and intercepted the flying crimson downstroke of the Sith leaping through the darkness to smite at Andromeda.

Their blades crackled together, hissing and spitting.

The hate of these Sith washed over and through and around William.

And he began to channel it. His eyes shone like two glittering onyx stones in the light reflected from the sabers. In their depths burned an enjoyment of the fight and his own inner darkness. One half of a superconducting loop.

Lina Ovmar Andromeda Demir Madrona A’Mia Darth Strosius

 

[Srina Talon]

OBJECTIVE: Poison The Well [2]
LOCATION: Thyferra [Refinery]
SITH ALLIES: Mercy
SITH ENEMIES: Acier Moonbound | Lorn Reingard | Judah Lesan

His foot stopped. "Not a game, Srina. Responsibility."

“Responsibility…Is that what you call it?”

She repeated the word as though it were some foreign language, and her elegant brow pulled together as the energy slowly dissipated from her eyes. Acier Moonbound had finally broken from their strange little stalemate while Mercy pressed on wounds that she suspected had yet to heal. Srina watched him use Lorn Reingard as leverage, planting a foot against the Jedi's shoulder while both blades swept upward to ward against any stray current before he kicked Lorn clear of Mercy's grasp. It was quick and clever…

How strange it was to feel pride and disappointment in equal measure.​

Acier's fist followed, though it wasn’t quite the physical punch it pretended to be. The Force answered and instead, erupted toward the Titan from little more than breathing distance. Srina felt the concussive burst of it even from where she stood, enough to send strands of moon-pale hair whispering across her cheek. It didn’t stop there—But the Blackwall Empress let her battle-sister handle it even when both blades descended over Mercy’s head.

Her nephew had spent enough time with the larger woman to know what she could survive, and the intent behind the attack was written clearly. Acier meant to kill the Titan…

Truly—Kill her.

Perhaps the rather light barbs had wormed their way under his skin far more than she had initially anticipated. So much guilt—So much drive to wipe the slate clean or spend the rest of his days trying. Something unpleasant pulled from beneath her ribs, but her attention turned back toward the seemingly crumpled Lorn Reingard and Judah Lesan .

Judah, belonged to her.

"Red blade, bad history, and some very questionable memories I'd personally like to return for a refund. None of that decides whether I'm the bad guy." Judah nodded toward Acier's weapons. "And blue doesn't make you good."

The humor softened without disappearing completely.

"What you did yesterday doesn't get to make the next choice for you. Neither does she." Judah tilted his head toward Mercy. "So maybe don't let the giant murder lady pick your next move."

The elder Jedi had survived the lightning Mercy had returned to him and, against all expectation, seemed to have come back to himself somewhat. He raised his blood-red blade and settled so that he could offer Acier advice that Srina found…Grating. Infantile. Shades of red and blue held no power by themselves, but that was never the point. Her finger raised to her lips, ”Shhh…”, and much like everything else with the Empress…

It was never just a hush.

It was a thousand needles assailing his skin in the worst of his wounds. Taking natural pains, arthritis, his injured ankle, and amplifying it to the point where it would feel like his blood was boiling. Her footsteps brought her closer, and her right hand moved to telekinetically wrench the saber away from Judah while simultaneously dismantling the stolen weapon. “Even after all this…You talk too much…”

He held such hate in him. Such certainty that she was lying…But anyone who knew her could offer one ineffable truth about that. While there was the occasional omission where leading a nation demanded it—Srina Talon never lied. She did not play those particular games that some Sith indulged so often because there was no need to. She saw the nightmare that existed in this man and shaped it into something she could use.

She let him wallow, let him push himself up, let him bleat his nonsensical ignorance. Hawkish eyes of baleful cold seemed to become withdrawn in that moment, and the softness that existed because of her nephew abruptly ended. “You should have stayed where I left you…”, she murmured while a piece of jagged durasteel ripped itself from the debris behind him. The sound it made, the tortured, metallic shriek, was only blunted by how quickly it flew at his back.

“You came for me on Echnos. For my children…I will never let you go.”

She didn’t wait to see if the metal hit because the other Jedi was moving again. The wintry woman could see his pain, the fight to rally, and sighed. Mercy had likely broken ribs beneath her fist, and she couldn’t imagine the violet-white lightning had tickled. Acier had sent him tumbling away, but he had already called his weapon back to his hand. He had just as much tenacity as her nephew, but something about finding two random Jedi out in the open felt…Wrong. It had bothered her from the start.

The refinery felt hollow. Most of the workers were gone, with the interior basically surrendered almost instantaneously. They seemed remarkably willing to fight, for a building full of machines, even when it was revealed who they were up against. Her nephew knew what Mercy was capable of, and the stories about her from the Confederacy, the old days, would have been enough to freeze his marrow. That was when she had been charitable.

Merciful.

Why would they stay here and risk their arguably more valuable lives for ferrocrete and durasteel?

Perhaps it was nothing…

But Srina had been waging wars for longer than most present had been alive.

"Force suppression field expanded, controlled directly by Republic. Calculations suggest only a matter of time until they extend it to the surface. Source of the field designated as the Grace of Theed. Moving to eliminate the threat, but be advised, likely to take time and we will be fighting without the Force."

<<Sestra…>>

Her thoughts brushed against the giantess through more than just the Force. It swept through the blood they shared, carrying emotion, feeling, and warning without disturbing how the Titan chose to handle Acier. The half-firrerrean woman would feel the caution in more than just the reports that came through about some nullification device. It was in space, in orbit, a place that they could not affect without pulling fleets from other incursions. They could only deal with the here and now. One problem at a time. <<Let them come to us…>>

Srina didn’t know what the Jedi wanted, only that she would not give it to them.

Srina moved laterally and began circling the room rather than advancing further into the refinery to pursue the guardian. She kept Judah in line of sight while the angle let her watch Acier and Lorn without committing herself to unfamiliar ground. It was the tactical prowess of an Echani at play, letting the enemy show their hand while her battle-sister all but filled the space. It was easy to see how they moved, shadowing one another as if they were of one mind.

“Did you know, sestra,” Mercy called out towards Srina, even though the words were aimed at Acier and his allies. “That I left myself open to your nephew back in the Covenant? He could have killed me then. Hell, I hear on Jakku he could have killed Arris too. But he left, twice, instead of acting.”

She paused…Glancing at Acier Moonbound once more while Lorn Reingard appeared so damaged that he was muttering to himself in the shadows. “No…You never did tell me that.”

“Shame on you, sestra.”

The word “sister” came out dark velvet, almost furred, while silvery tones moved beneath the skin. Her mind was turning back to the excuse of “responsibility” that Acier Moonbound had so casually offered. It had been bothering her. Not that she disagreed with the notion of it existing, as a sense of duty had always burned brightly into the progeny of Isley Verd .

“Does it ever leave you awake at night, boy?

“I remember a report…”, her voice carried easily, not disputing the possibility of nightmares, but rather following a thread because she remembered reading something. She kept tabs on her family because if her experience in raising Quinn Varanin was anything to go by…Trouble was not far behind. “…Ghorman, I think.”

It took her a moment to recall the particulars of the security footage that had been flagged because the face of her nephew had been captured clearly by security tape. Srina received enough intelligence every rotation to drown an entire country, and the death of a turncoat informant had meant little. “The body of a Zeltron was recovered…And so was the security feed. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together after that…”

Her head nodded toward Lorn Reingard without any condemnation whatsoever.

“Your friend executed her. And you…Ran.”

Her shoulders lifted a little before falling, a soft shrug, indicating that she would have killed the woman too. There was no need to pretend otherwise. Srina could imagine the calculation without any difficulty at all. One frightened woman against however many lives weighted behind the intelligence she carried, with Sith closing in and seconds to choose…

They chose.

“Was that the responsibility you mentioned?”

The question had no venom while the ghostly woman stepped over a piece of metal. Her hand rose, and Judah would feel her touch beneath his chin, despite the distance, lifting his head so that he could see her clearly. So that he would not pass out from the pain. It was a promise that she had not forgotten him while speaking to someone else. “You called my sister an animal…”

“...And you’re trying to cut her head off. Your friend killed a woman because he believed other lives mattered more. Now...I don’t object to it…”, she offered, because she wasn’t asking anyone to admit they were secret Sith. That was a ridiculous concept, and she wasn't interested in winning some tedious argument about moral equivalency while Thyferra burned. “But help me understand, little love.”

“When your people kill, you fight for the Light and become heroes. I make the same choice on a larger scale, and I become your enemy. Why does the life of one matter less?”

Her eyes remained on Acier. Not stalling…But seeking to understand the young man who could have easily claimed a place at her side, even if he felt disillusioned with the Covenant. He knew enough to know how ugly both sides of the spectrum could become, but made excuses when it was convenient for the Light to stay…Pure. He gave understanding and patience to those who killed just as easily as Sith when the right reason presented itself. That hardly seemed fair.

“Everything I have ever done, will do, has been to keep my children safe. I am responsible for them. Tell me…Where does responsibility end for you and being an animal begin?”

Spoiler: Equpiment

Armour Saber Ring Ring Terentatek Body Gloves HG-54 "The Vora" Class Hand Cannon Holding Aces Popper Echo Implant NPC Units (On Standby) Drake "Vaelcryx" (On Standby)

 

[Balun Dashiell]

LOCATION: Storage & Distribution Facilities > Loading Annex
INVENTORY: Jedi Battle Armour | Crossguard Lightsaber | Standard Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
DIRECT TAG: Helix

​

A flash of amber light sliced cleanly through the metal desk, cutting it in two. The Tactical Supremacy Droid was quick enough to anticipate the Jedi Knight's tactic and utilise the intended decoy, shielding itself from the Ataru form. Balun landed and struck out once more, the sweep across the midsection precise in both range and speed, yet as the blade swept through Helix , the Droid's body seemed to separate around the weapon, coming apart like liquid metal only to reform, top and bottom halves knitting back together like dense glue, solidifying back into its original armoured aesthetic.

Balun flashed a look of astonishment just as Helix cut the guardrails and supports of the catwalk they both stood upon, the entire gantry quaking beneath them. Before losing the floor beneath their feet and before the droid could take his neck, Balun threw himself backwards, narrowly avoiding being cut by the droid's sawblade. His back hit the gantry catwalk as it fell, one end still attached to the far wall, and tilting at an angle, bringing the Jedi Knight sliding down towards the ground floor at speed.

He landed on his feet, though he had to throw himself into a roll to account for the momentum, throwing himself back up and moving towards Helix once more. While he had dropped his Blaster during the fall, Balun still managed to hold onto his Lightsaber, and now, as he brought the weapon into both hands and raised it up over his right shoulder, he adopted a Djem So form. It was only now that he stopped a short distance from the droid.

"My name is Balun Dashiell. My Master's is Ala Quin, Grandmaster of the Jedi Order," He informed Helix, bowing his head ever so slightly, making sure to maintain eye contact and keep track of the droid's movements. A smile crept to the corner of the Jedi's mouth, unable to hide his appreciation of the droid's reminding him of his Master's teachings. Ala Quin had taught Balun a great deal indeed; his life had not always been so kind to him, but his training under her had been a blessing, and she had helped him become the Jedi he was today.

"And you're right", He said as his left hand left his hilt, reaching out towards the Gantry Crane hanging from the ceiling. "She taught me very well". The light churned from within him, and the Force surged around him as Balun focused, harnessing the aspect of control and taking a telekinetic grip of the gantry crane, tearing it from its chained tether, ripping it from the rooftop and wrenching it down atop the area where Helix stood. Along with the crane, the support struts around it caved in; the metal bent and collapsed inwards; the sky opened as the industrial overhead came crashing down, leaving one side exposed to the ensuing chaos outside.

Former Mentor: Ala Quin
Jedi Apprentice: Cerys Dyn
Major Faction: The High Republic
Sub-Faction: Jhaessa Prime
Conglomerate: Dashiell Incorporated™
Subsidiary Company: Dashiell Retrofit™​

"Speech"
'Thought'​