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

[Pillar of Faith]

ARTIFACT DEACTIVATED

The Void artifact is fully Deactivated.

See Mandate: Here​

 

[Aiden Porte]

OBJ:1
Location: Fields
Objective: Endure​

One by one, they closed in, and just as easily, he was able to aim and take the kill shot. Everlight arrived next to him, along with almost a quarter of his retinue.

"Were you able to get them all?"

"Aiden...as much as we can. Some are still trapped, but right now we have to get you out of here."

Aiden shook his head, showing the smallest of smile, with blood stained lips. "I'm not leaving. You get everyone out of here."

"Aiden, we are not leaving you."

Aiden shook his head as he glanced up briefly, the wind whipping around him. Just as it was taken, it was given back. He could feel the emotions, the feelings, the presences returning. Aiden narrowed his eyes, looking out to the field.

The Force had returned.

Aiden felt it rushing through him. He took a deep breath, the first real breath, perhaps. And it was real and wholesome. He couldn't describe it. It wasn't rejuvenation, but life.

The Sith were pushing their advance. Aiden spit out what blood lingered in his mouth as he used the rifle to stabilize himself while he rose to his feet. There were others, Jedi around him, feeling their true strength return. It returned and gave them back their hope, giving them the push they needed.

It was what he needed.

Aiden let out a grunt, fighting through the pain as his hand shot forward, a barrier being created between them and the enemy. With a strong push outward, he blasted them back. Aiden reached for the Jewel around his neck, grabbing it with his hand and ripping it from his neck as he held his hand up.

The Force coursed through him once more, through all living things, as it always should.

"Master, lend me your strength, one last time." Aiden voiced roughly as a small aura of light came from his hand, intensified by the Jewel.

It was then that he was joined by the Jedi around him who had returned, their own auras intensifying and giving the others strength. Beacons of light shone across this portion of the battlefield, targeting the Sith, in particular the creatures created by them. For the few moments that the light pulsed across the fields, they were impacted, they were hurt. And some of them were immediately destroyed. The beacons of light retreated, and the jewel in his hand had shattered. "Thank you, Solenne."

The Light had returned, and for all that Aiden had been, for all that he could be.

Hope was kindled.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Equipment: Robes - Strosite Warform
Tags: Lina Ovmar / Madrona A’Mia / William Thule / Andromeda Demir
--------------------------------------------

With most of its internals and musculature still regenerating in one form or another, the beast that Darth Strosius had become was hardly the agile predator that it normally would have been. It hurled itself forward more so than pounced, then being forced into rearing back to avoid the thrusting indigo blade rather than moving around it fluidly like one might expect Him to do. Yet while He might have been a bit slow in His movements, the warform was hardly lacking in physical power all the same.

The Jedi forced Him to shuffle back, His maw gnashing as He hissed before suddenly ducking towards the side as though to flank around the Jedi and move to leap at his companion and the soldier that rushed to her aid. Though rather than pouncing forwards around the Jedi before Him as His body seemed angled to do, He instead hurled Himself to the side and swept a bladed arm at His foe's lower half with the full intent of just cleaving the man into two pieces.

The velocity of His movement through the hair necessitated a somewhat harsh landing, His clawed feet and armored elbows digging into the moist ground and throwing up Alazhi as He essentially skidded to a stop. Rather than capitalizing on the movement and striking at the Jedi's flank however, the warform heaved a breath and hacked out another maroon clot into the ruined paddy that it had landed in. Exertion was hardly helping heal anything faster but it couldn't exactly be avoided in a battle.

Deployment vessels still positioned above Thyferra, launch indicators changed from red to green. The drop pods CT-312 had inspected before the battle were filled with packs of War-X and Pred-X battle droids. The first group of pods fired toward Darth Strosius ’s position.

The sound of drop pods impacting the ground around them hardly phased or even interested the creature, its baleful golden gaze set firmly on the Jedi as He huffed and caught His breath once more. The warform was physically taxing even when fully fed and uninjured and in this case He was certainly neither. It was a desperate move to even otherwise unfavorable odds as this form was less reliant on His Sithspawn enhancements than His normal body, though the internal damage was still noticeable with each stretch and flex.

ARTIFACT DEACTIVATED

The Void artifact is fully Deactivated.​

Then all at once the pain that bloomed and pulsed in His body seemed to ease. Darth Strosius reeled back and shivered as pale golden tendrils erupted from His back, flowing in wild strands that were less akin to the "wings" they formed in His normal body and more like the tattered dark robes that still hung off of of Him. Though there was still damage to be healed, the wounds having been eased but not entirely removed. Luckily, now with the Force restored, He had a manner of fixing that problem.

He inhaled, and with the breath the blood soaking into the moist ground shifted and began to flow. It raced from the fallen forms of the Vratix and Marines that had been made victims of the Sith's creatures, pulled from the Legionnaire bodies which had been cut down in a march that their peers were still making, drawn even from the living around Him that had an open wound to exploit. Darth Strosius summoned the sanguine liquids to Him from all their sources and let them wash over Him, the crimson rivers curling around the pale golden tendrils like a stain.

Then He exhaled in another screech, one that echoed through the Force as well as the air and which was meant to throw back both of the Jedi and whatever troopers were foolish enough to stand with them. All to buy time for the blood of the fallen to rush into His gaping maw in a sickening and greedy display. A necessary grotesquery, one only slightly more dignified than pausing to devour a corpse as quickly as He could manage.

Spoiler: Sangnir Warform

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

The absolute hush of the universe fractured, and the Force spilt back into being like a ruptured dam.

The raw, unbuffered current of the cosmos rushed back into the broken Jedi. For Brandyn, it was a violent flood, a sensory overload. The weight of his actions and the agony of his splitting face hit him immediately. The fissures in his flesh flared in a blinding, angry red-orange.

Desperate to survive the murderous heat behind his eyes, Brandyn clawed instinctively along his renewed connection to the Sith, locking onto distant presence of Meya Liefi . She had originally woven her dark sorcery to stitch his face together. Now, he wrestled with their tether and shoved his blinding physical and mental pain down the connection to her so his mind wouldn't collapse.

The relief was instant. The heat in his face dulled, and Brandyn staggered to his feet — the long held facade of decency having melted away.

He turned his bleeding face toward Bastila, whose cold command still echoed off the wet durasteel walls. He could not look at her, for in her eyes he knew he would see his ultimate judgment, a failure one could never undo. Instead, he clung to Velda's spiteful revelations about a second daughter — igniting a new, dark hope in his chest. It was highly likely that Gianna was dead, but this second older child provided a new purpose.

"I am up," Brandyn said, his voice flat, hollowed to a bland apathy.

He reached into the flooded silt, reclaiming his own lightsaber, before snatching up Velda's weapon as well. "Leave her. She will is as good as dead," he murmured, feeling the truth that her mind still clung to life. "This building has already tried its luck in not being hit. It's only a matter of time."

His words seemed detached, devoid of the emotional baggage that he poured down his Force connection to the Sith witch, and now without thinking it...his older sister. Anything to not feel. Anything to be relieved of the burden of his sin

Turning his back on Bastila, he strode out into the jungle.

Green and red blades snapped to life simultaneously. Brandyn moved like an unfeeling machine, cutting a merciless swath through the advancing Sith vanguard. It was a total slaughter, devoid of fury — just a silent, efficient cutting of a path to their place of extraction.

Behind him, as if directed by fate itself, an errant shell hit the bunk, sending the structure up in flames.

Bastila Sal-Soren Velda Nar-Donna Briana Sal-Soren
​

 

[Allyson Locke]

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

Blood spurted from the wound at his neck. The attack had struck true with Taiia's help. Allyson watched the blood spill, watched it run from the Undying King, and for a moment it held her completely. The desire to see more, to spill more of that unholy ichor, pulled at the assassin with a hunger she didn't understand.

His body twisted, and the spell broke.

Allyson stepped back, unsettled by the draw she had just felt. Nothing had ever pulled at her like that before, but there was no time to understand it. The battle was committed, and if she and Taiia were going to remain unscathed, then they needed to be as well. She moved back several quick steps, giving herself room as Prazutis shifted his weight. His attention was on both of them now.

She had lost the advantage of his backside.

But Allyson knew she was quicker. She didn't need the Force to overthrow Goliath.

His attacks remained focused on Taiia despite the brief attention he gave her. Allyson prepared another arrow as his feint, his lie, drew her wife in.

Then the Corellian's eyes widened. Her pupils dilated, then contracted sharply. She smelled it again. Only this time, she knew exactly where it was coming from. Prazutis had made contact. His attack wasn't dangerous enough to kill her, nor severe enough to do lasting harm.

But he had drawn Taiia's blood.

Allyson's chest tightened as her twin hearts began hammering in rapid succession. The battlefield faded around her. The weapons, the screaming metal, the broken ground — all of it disappeared beneath one scent.

Her wife's blood.

Every nightmare crashed through Allyson's mind at once. Every single one ended the same way. Taiia dying. Allyson watching helplessly as she lost her again. The Kainites finding her. Breaking her. Doing every horrible thing Allyson knew they could — and would — do if the galaxy shifted even slightly in another direction.

Those nightmares were why she had betrayed everyone she had once sworn to honor as comrades. Their blood was already on her hands. She didn't care. Because the one person in this galaxy who was worth anything to the Corellian…

Was supposed to be safe.

Allyson stood quiet, her chest rising and falling as her skin burned. Anger, hate, and fear… all of it flooded her senses until there was nothing else. Every fiber of her being screamed to move, to kill him, to protect. Her pulse hammered violently beneath her skin, each beat carrying the scent of blood deeper into something old, something buried in her blood. Allyson could think of nothing else. Even her own safety didn't matter as long as Taiia was no longer in harm's way.

There was a brief moment of conscious thought that lingered somewhere in the back of Allyson's mind.

Taiia could handle this.

She had already proven that before. Yet still, the beast, the thing that smelled the woman's spilled blood, pushed the logic aside. It clawed over everything Allyson knew, drowning reason beneath a singular, horrifying need.

Prazutis turned on Allyson.

She didn't move as his blaster raised and fired towards her bow. For a heartbeat, she simply stared down the barrel. The blood-red bolt cut through the air —

And the Corellian vanished.

The Force had returned.

It flooded into her all at once, violently filling every hollow place that had been ripped empty. Her body moved before thought could follow. Allyson flickered back into existence several feet away, the edges of her form shuddering like a broken image struggling to remain whole. She was no longer hiding within the shadows.

She became the Shadow.

Something unnatural wearing Allyson Locke's shape as she stepped forward, drowning in the Force that had suddenly reconnected itself to her.

Another step.

She flickered.

Another.

Dashing at an angle, she slipped away from whatever else he decided to throw at her, her body appearing and disappearing between breaths. There was no hesitation anymore. No calculation. No careful understanding of what she was doing.

Faster.

The Shadow continued to gain ground.

Unknown to her, Allyson was folding space around herself in microscopic jumps. Distance collapsed beneath her feet, reality bending for fractions of a second before snapping violently back into place behind her. A feat that at any other time would have been impossible. Something she wouldn't have even attempted.

Her image became a mirage.

Here.

Gone.

Closer.

Until finally the heat of a saber burned in her hand.

At her side, her other arm hung uselessly — flesh charred from the blaster, fingers unable to close tightly enough around the bow. Pain should have stopped her. It should have at least registered.

It didn't. She had run out of options. Allyson could no longer shoot from a distance. So the distance ceased to matter.

Allyson flickered forward again, into his range, into his guard, the crimson blade igniting fully in her grasp. The same blade she had bled when she betrayed the Jedi screamed through the air as she swung it towards his blaster rifle and the arm that carried it.

There was nothing graceful about her expression anymore. Nothing clever hiding behind the usual grin. Her features had darkened, twisted beneath something primal that had crawled up from inside her blood. Her breathing came sharp through clenched teeth, hazel eyes fixed upon Prazutis with the terrible focus of an animal that had already decided what happened next.

There was no Jedi.

No Ghost.

No Allyson Locke.

There was only the scent of Taiia's blood and one horrible thought consuming everything that remained.

Kill.

 

[Darth Prazutis]

There was no warning as the Force returned.

No gradual loosening of the veil, no gentle restoration of sensation, no distant whisper announcing that whatever had strangled the supernatural from Thyferra had finally begun to fail. The machinations of the High Republic were finally undone, and the flood gates had torn open. One instance? There was nothing. The next? Darth Prazutis became a catastrophe. Ka'ra'nazat struck against His chest with a pulse so violent it might have been mistaken for a second heart beginning to beat. Crimson light exploded through the veins of the Abyssal Heart and raced outward across Qâzjiin'vraal. Every rune carved into the black warplate ignited at once. The living sinew beneath shattered plates convulsed, swelled, and pulled taut as the darkness rushed back into it, feasting off the energy its plates mended together quicker than ever before. Xûl-Karzaan awakened with a scream of a thousand voices suddenly released from suffocation, the whispers crashing over one another until the helm sounded like a tomb filled with the dead trying to claw their way out.

The Shadow Hand didn't move, the battlefield instead moved around him. Dust rose from the earth around His boots without wind to carry it. Loose stones began trembling. Broken weapons rattled against the ground. Shards of durasteel lifted slowly from the ruins and hung suspended in the air. Fires burning across the shattered field bent unnaturally toward Him, their flames stretched sideways as though drawn toward the Dark Lord by gravity itself. The smoke above them twisted into a vast spiral, clouds folding inward around a center that did not exist in the sky. It existed in Him, as he became the axis the world seemed to tilt towards, the pressure followed. It descended across the battlefield with such sudden violence that the earth groaned beneath it. Fractures raced outward from beneath Prazutis' boots, splitting blackened soil and shattered duracrete in branching lines. Ruined walls cracked. The skeletal remains of nearby structures shuddered upon their foundations. Wrecked vehicles sank inches into the ground as though some invisible weight had settled upon them.

The darkness returned to the Dark Lord of the Sith like an ocean reclaiming something stolen from its depths. His head lifted, and for the first time since the nullification had begun, the eyes behind Xûl-Karzaan burned again, and Thyferra felt Him. Not merely the two women standing before Him, but the world. Something ancient and malignant expanded through the Force with such overwhelming magnitude that it felt less like a presence than an eclipse. Fear rolled outward through the ruined districts, creatures fled without understanding why while the wounded stirred in terror. Soldiers far from the engagement looked toward the horizon with the instinctive certainty that something terrible had just awakened. All of the Blackblade Guard in proximity dropped to their knees in reverence as the Dark Lord inhaled.

The Dark Side of the Force came with the breath.

Centuries of hatred. Battlefields without number. The screams of civilizations reduced to memory. The anguish of Jedi broken beneath His hands. Maena. Mandalore. The Purges. Empires born and buried. Every atrocity He had committed and every death He had survived seemed to compress into the enormous figure standing at the center of the ruined field. His gauntlet slowly closed, and the earth answered. A deep sound rolled beneath them. It was the sound of stone being forced against stone miles beneath the surface, all around them. Entire slabs of broken duracrete tore loose from the battlefield. Wreckage lifted. Boulders emerged from fractured soil. The remains of a shattered defensive emplacement groaned upward as though Thyferra itself were being peeled open around Him.

For one singular, impossible moment everything simply stopped as Allyson surged towards the Mortarch. Thousands of pieces of battlefield surrounded Him in absolute stillness. Then Xûl-Karzaan spoke, the voice that emerged was no longer singular. It came from everywhere.

"Enough."

The word rolled across the field like approaching thunder, a rumbling storm reverberating through the bones of the world.. His hands slammed together and the very world exploded outward. The world exploded outward. The Force erupted from Darth Prazutis in a spherical detonation of raw telekinetic violence. The suspended debris became a screaming halo of destruction. Stone, metal, wreckage, ash, and shattered earth were hurled away from Him as the shockwave expanded across the battlefield. The very ground buckled beneath its passage, carving canyons and fissures into the surface of ruined earth while broken walls collapsed, vehicles were thrown through the very haze. Fires flattened beneath the pressure before surging back twice as high in the vacuum left behind.

The concussion rolled outward like the breath of a god waking angry. The Dark Lord roared then and drowned the world around him in wrath. The very ground exploded as fissures of cerulean fire, purity of the dark side exploded hundred of meters in the sky. The sheer crushing magnitude of his storm collapsed the very earth around him, the Dark Lord disappearing in a field of azure flame as destruction rocked across the blighted, ruined earth drowning it in the malice of flames so blasphemous they'd blight the very air, casting a crimson miasma of the dark side like a roiling fog from his form. Qâzjiin'vraal writhed across His wounded body, crimson runes blazing like wounds carved into the night, while Ka'ra'nazat burned against His chest, and Xûl Qarnak howled in His grasp as the sorcery within the weapon awakened again, blackened bloodfire twisting around the blade. Each magnified the raw power of the Mouth of Ruin tenfold, cascading it into a cataclysmic fissure shrouding the Dark Lord so large, it rose into low orbit.

It seemed destruction was certain, except for the crimson haired woman who was spared most of the carnage, the raw destructive power might've pushed her over, but the apocalyptic oblivion warped around her, as the Dark Lord of the Sith, the Elysian Grandeval Mortarch's power returned.

Allyson Locke | Taiia Locke | Taeli Raaf | Darth Carnifex​

 

[Mantys Thranx]

ATTN anyone at the refinery - AOE bacta/rylca mist in effect!

Makko Vyres Acier Moonbound Lorn Reingard @“airel” Judah Lesan Zaiya Ceti Tobias Dib Mercy Srina Talon Seren Gwyn Revna Marr (apologies if I missed anyone!)

Throughout the refinery and its adjoining structures, a pale blue mist began to disperse from groaning exhaust vents. It settled over combatants, technicians and Sith-hewn creatures alike.

The aerosolized mixture of bacta and rylca could not heal the rubble or mend scorched metal. It could, however, provide a brief respite for battle-weary organics. For some, it would constitute the difference between life and death.

An engineer who'd inhaled too much smoke took his first deep breath since he'd started choking. A stormtrooper with a heavily cracked visor felt the pain in his left eyeball recede as tiny shards were picked out by a medic. A clone trooper who'd been partially crushed by chunks of duracrete drifted off peacefully, rather than in blinding pain. A few of the gulp droids who'd siphoned up the contaminated water also drew bacta particles into their reservoirs, causing them to tremble and combust like little bombs of inert dishwater.

And the vicious technobeasts and zombified organics that had swarmed the refinery now seized and fell to the ground, toppling over one another as they writhed and thrashed in pain. Angry wisps of steam began to curl from their mangled bodies, the violation of numerous pathogens fighting against the healing properties of enriched bacta.

—

"Good Heavens!" Mantys exclaimed. "We'll run it through the pipeline later, but let us get the raw data out of here now!"

Exhaustied, anxious lab technologists worked frantically to store the exome data on external devices, distributing a copy to SERAPHIM. The bacta mist had crawled its way to the upper floors by now, and several thuds could be heard in the corridor just outside of the lab.

"Basement is under control. I have the remaining bacta and rylca vats over-pressured and venting as mist through the lower ducts. It dropped the first one I tested. You are going to want someone watching the upper floors before it reaches the labs."

"Yes, yes. Well done, May-co! You Jedi retain some use even when lacking in the Force."

Outside, flames licked closer to the laboratory. "Shut down all operations!" Mantys cried. "We've successfully sequenced the viral exomes. Secure all critical specimens and prepare to depart immediately!"

It would take some time for them to translate the raw, unfamiliar data into something useful. Along with numerous patients and eyewitnesses, they'd soon be able to draw a clearer picture of exactly which pathogens the Sith had haphazardly attacked Theyferra's populace with.

And once they knew what they were dealing with, they could find a cure. Or at least, prophylactic measures.

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Briana watched him, her eyes glued to his every movement. Without the Force, his flurry and raw power set the pace of the battle now. Briana did not match that aggression, instead turning aside another strike with a rolling extension of her wrist as he went for her shoulder. It sent the blade up and away, only for the Sithling's weapon to chop downward again, her momentum turned to his own. She didn't meet the blow with her saber, she couldn't.

He was coming down too hard, too fast, everything in his movements now working to undercut and undermine any sort of defense she provided herself. All Briana could do was try to keep her feet underneath her, and absorb his words that became more delusional with each strike and impact, realizing with a pitying clarity that he believed his own rhetoric.

With no other option, she threw herself to the side. Her left hand pressed into the earth and braced as she cartwheeled away from him. Her blade twisted once in her hand, the weapon now held reverse-grip as his next blow ripped through the air towards her. Her alabaster blade whipped up and slammed into his glowing weapon. With that added momentum, she deflected the blow and came back up on two feet, though not entirely unscathed.

She'd been exhausted before, felt like she was barely holding on — now she could feel in how he attacked her that the tempo changed considerably from their brief, earlier clash.

He meant to kill her.

"You know," she breathed, trying to match his momentum, but feeling exhaustion peeling away at her - with no room to create the opening she needed. "The sad thing here, is that you created this. All of this, everyone like you." As his blade came through her center of gravity, Briana tried to catch the impact, but his shoulder was shoved into her and Briana went sprawling backwards, blade clattering out of her hands and deactivating as she hit the ground, feeling the wind forced from her lungs on impact.

She coughed, and lifted herself onto her elbows. When she looked up, he was towering over her. The same view she'd had when he saved her life, all those years ago. Except now, he might just be her executioner.

"You came to a Republic world and attacked it. There are billions in this galaxy who live every day without the Force, who feel the fear that you're feeling now, but don't have the power to impose their will on others. Every time the Sith take their worlds, their children..." she wiped the back of her hand against her mouth, "Did you think that they would never bite back, or try to defend themselves? That they would continue to let things go as they were, those who have no understanding? All your fear and anger created this, created the hate and fear. Not us. You want to know the truth?"

A small, sorrowful smile touched her lips, knowing he might be the last person ever to hear her voice. Her thoughts strayed to Brandyn, Bastila, Lossa, and Blaire. To where they were, and whether they were safe. To Vizion, and the unbearable possibility that he might already be gone, and she may never again get to feel his hands in hers, or enjoy his warmth. Tell him how much she loved him. She wondered how many of them would mourn her when she was gone, or if grief would curdle into hatred when they realized she had chosen the Galaxy over them. Again. Would they understand? Could they?

Her long lashes lowered against her high cheekbones, holding there for a quiet moment before lifting once more, her gaze returning to him. "I don't hate you, Gerwald. I pity you."

Then, as she was about to accept whatever came next...

A flood of energy washed over her. But it was not the brilliant white wave she expected, it was dark, heavy, and crushing. Her eyes went wide as she tried to block it out, the lashing against her mind, the overwhelming agony screaming at her. Tears began streaming down her face and something inside her exploded, stamina replenished, breathing steadied, as aches within her muscles faded away from this new sensation of power and pain.

Raw power burst from her fingertips, arced toward Gerwald. It was blue lightning, pure Force energy, brighter than any lightsaber, hotter than a sun. It tried to wrap its deadly, crooked fingers around him and jerk him sideways.

She stared down at her hand in horror, then ran to scoop up her lightsaber before Gerwald had the chance to recover.

Reaching for her belt, Briana unclipped the grappling hook and aimed it toward the trees above. Before firing, she tore a Kolcta grenade free, pulled the pin, and tossed it behind her, something to discourage Gerwald from following. With the Force restored, he would have to contend with its concentrated burst of Force Light if he tried. The hook found purchase and wrenched her upward, carrying her swiftly away.

As she rose, Briana glanced back and caught sight of the remnants of Gerwald's Dreadguard rounding the refinery through the haze of guilt clouding her thoughts. Persistent, she would give them that. But they'd be disappointed when they found nothing of value inside. Everyone had been evacuated long before their arrival, and the machinery rendered useless, the systems disabled, wires severed.

Her stomach churned as another wave of anger crashed through her.

Briana pushed onward, reaching for her comlink. "Rik, I'm pulling out. I couldn't capture their commander, but I can't stay. Something is…" She faltered, unable to put the feeling into words. Something was deeply wrong, with her, with Brandyn. "I have to get out of here. I'll meet you at the rendezvous. The Republic has things handled at this point. Be careful out there, and don't forget your rebreather."

EXIT POST

OUTFIT: XoXo | ENEMY: Gerwald Lechner | HONORABLE MENTION: Rik Perris , Brandyn Sal-Soren , Vizion Trozky
EQUIPMENT: Jumpsuit, Astor Daary's Blade, Springloaded Gauntlets, Echo Stone, Force Blinding Flash Bang, Jedi Imbued Kolcta Grenades 1, Lightsaber, Crystal Cage (Perms)

​

 

[William Thule]

In Brightest Day
In Blackest Night

Darth Strosius Lina Ovmar Madrona A’Mia Andromeda Demir
ALAZHI FIELDS​

A searing pain flashed through William as the beast’s claw tore through his side, then the monstrosity danced back.

Suddenly, the Force came roaring back in a flood. William had no warning, only the sudden comprehension and awareness of the living essence which connected all beings. He sucked in a ragged, agonized breath as blood sheeted down his side and dribbled from his shoulder too.

The Sith Lord stood before him now in all its hideous glory, its malformed presence reeking of the Dark Side and seeming to stretch out to infect all others nearby.

Alone, William could not prevent this.

His eyes flicked to Andromeda full of fear and worry, then fixated back on the beast even as it let out a hideous shockwave of a scream.

A bubble of pure energy cocooned William and the scream passed around it. And William drew in another breath and let his pain and his fear vanish.

“There is no emotion, there is peace,” the words trembled from his lips, growing firmer and louder as he voiced them.

He was a Jedi Master.

“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.”

He was never alone.

“There is no passion, there is serenity.”

The living presence of the Force coalesced within William Thule, pervading his every fiber as he fully gave himself over to it.

“There is no chaos, there is harmony.”

Then…

Light.

A wall of blinding, darkness-destroying, purging energy erupted from William in all directions in a wall of the Light Side of the Force itself. It cleansed and purged what it struck and would surely cast all conjured Sithspawn and Sith spirits back to Chaos.

“There is no death, there is the Force.”

 

[Mercy]

MERCY

EMPRESS | WARLORD | STAR-ARM

Location: On the move | Objective: Bring the thunder

Allies: Srina Talon

Enemies: Acier Moonbound | Lorn Reingard | Judah Lesan

​

​

.

Meat and bone… so fragile.

Mercy was not thinking about it consciously. Thoughts were lost to her. She had gone beyond seeing everything in red. She was seeing in bursts of neuro-senses firing at her through Warform. The sensation of Acier thrown backwards, the metal bending to accommodate his body, Judah crumbling to the floor and finally… Lorn rammed into the wall. His bones broke so easily.

Fragile.

It was not really fury that drove her at that point. Fury and anger were glorious things, they made Mercy cackle in delight, they filled her with joy as she made lines buckle and fortifications crumble.

This was quiet beyond the visceral noises of meat collapsing into meat, bones breaking under blows that were too powerful for human hands to contain, the screams and cries and the laughter of dead men.

It was grief that powered her forward now.

Mercy did not respond to Lorn’s laughter, even if somewhere she registered it. He looked so much like her at that moment. Laughing in defiance, cackling in joy. Did she always look so ugly in the thrall of battle?

Ace's eyes widened. "MERCY!" His voice tore painfully through his ruined nose and battered chest. "STOP! SHE'S STILL ALIVE!"

Ace looked back toward the rampaging Titan. "YOU NEED TO GET HER OUT OF HERE..."

"...OR SHE WILL!"

The prattling of dead meat.

It didn’t register to her. She would be with dear nephew Acier soon enough. All she had to do was dismantle Lorn into his very fundamentals. Death was easy. Mercy knew this so deep into her bones that even in the thralls of her personal tragedy, the Covenant Lord did not make a single killing blow on the laughing Jedi Knight.

Her blows were meant to cripple. To break. To turn that smile upside down, until he could not laugh again.

Because his laughter was an affront. How could one laugh in a moment like this? When the best of them had been murdered by the worst of them? Srina, an Echani Master, should have died on her feet, in a war, with her eyes open, facing an opponent. Not through a sneak attack that came out of nowhere. Not in her arms, without the Force, while they were surrounded by enemies so Mercy could not help her.

Srina’s blood should not be clinging to her face now. Everything about this was wrong.

Laughter bubbled up in his chest when the kid screamed for Mercy to stop, shouting that Srina was still alive and urging the titan to take her and run. Lorn could not allow that escape to happen. "Go on, you dog," he said, watching the behemoth hesitate. "Crawl back to your master."

“You want to die…” Mercy’s voice was dead and without inflection. Somehow that was worse than when she had been full of mirth, joking, poking emotionally at Acier. The latter was someone who at least seemed you could negotiate with.

“And you will.” Her hand rose into the air, that fist shaped like a battering ram beginning to twist, organic carapace with the durability of beskar and phrik, until it had reshaped into claws that were meant to rend and extract pain.

“But only once you have suffered for-”

Two blaster shots exploded into her side from below. In her grief Mercy had not even attempted to disarm Lorn. Yet another trick, another treachery. Mercy snarled as the blunt damage broke several ribs, one of them carving through something inside of her, sending white hot pain through her spine.

Her foot, armored and heavy, moved to slam into his knee from the wrong side. To snap it in half and leave him crippled as a punishment even as breathing became heavier.

MERCY!​

She didn’t say anything out loud, nor use telepathy, but screamed for the mountain of a woman through the bi-directional line of communication they shared through the creation of the Warform. It didn’t get actual words, but it could be felt, the same way the flame-haired woman had used it to try and calm her before. Srina couldn’t speak…

She gasped as a presence burst through her like a stampede of horses. It could not be. It cannot be. She was dead. Meat. She was cold. She had choked on her blood with a hole through her neck. Mercy’s face was still burning from the plasma bolt that had ripped through her.

Mercy shuddered but her grip on Lorn would try to increase even further as she attempted to yank him with her to face Acier and… Srina.

“Sestra…” She whispered, the Covenant Lord’s face reemerged beneath the mask, as she watched Srina breathing… in pain… but alive.

Ace looked back toward the rampaging Titan. "YOU NEED TO GET HER OUT OF HERE..."

The Sith Lord looked at how Acier was holding her, stemming the tide of blood trying to force itself out of Srina’s neck. Keeping his aunt alive. If she still had Lorn in her grasp, he’d see it too. That the man he was trying to shape… was not malleable by any of them. Not by Mercy, but not by himself either.

He’d always pick his own path… infuriating all of them in the process.

“You are not the one to tell us what to do, Acier Moonbound.” Using his full name for once rather than Arris’ nickname or some other barb. “I will give you this… take your Master and get the fuck out… because if she does die?” She jerked her head towards Srina. “I will not stop until everyone on Thyferra is dead… and then the next world… and the next.”

She echoed the words of Abregado-rae and she had shown the Galaxy what she did… to her enemies and those that chose her enemies as their guardians.

Nobody would stop her. Not the High Republic, not the Sith Order, and certainly not a crippled Jedi with his emotionally wounded Jedi compatriot.

ARTIFACT DEACTIVATED

The Void artifact is fully Deactivated.

See Mandate: Here​

The Dark Side came rushing back into her with the force of thunder, making her gasp and laugh in delight. It was beautiful. How could she ever think that a world without the Force would be a world better? Everything was brighter now, stronger, she felt her body reinvigorated as it drew from the Dark Side like a drunk at a bar. Her presence came back a breath later, roiling the room with the tar and darkness, oppressive force bearing down on everyone.

Her eyes returned to bright amber immediately as that eldritch corruption found the residue of pain and agony… and fed on it… and amplified it.

Throughout the refinery and its adjoining structures, a pale blue mist began to disperse from groaning exhaust vents. It settled over combatants, technicians and Sith-hewn creatures alike.

Blue mist began to appear out of the vents. A mist that could save Srina’s life, that would spare her from suffering, that could draw her back into health by just a touch so it would land on the right side of the line.

But Mercy, immersed in the thrall of the Dark Side, could only think of one thing. They had been trying to draw them deeper into the facility. They had been talking about a plan, a plot, something that would end them. She had thought it was Force leaving them. Was this actually it? Was everything Acier had done up until this moment just a ploy to get closer to Srina right as this happened?

Mercy could not risk it. She would not. Srina was breathing, that was enough, but this mist could spell her end… and that was the tragedy. She snapped her fingers and the Dark Side answered, a violent cascade of compressed air exploding outward from them. The blue haze was ripped away and hurled back, dust and debris crashing into the nearest vents as Mercy tried to keep another breath of it from reaching them.

Treachery, cowards, they deserved something more than simple death.

There had been mercy in Mercy just a moment ago. A brief lingering moment where she considered giving Lorn over to Acier without anything else. For the sake of Srina, for the sake of her love for Acier and how he still tried to protect her.

The Dark Side twisted it… because that is what the Dark Side does. It took the best and the worst of a person and remade it into its image. And then what Mercy perceived to be a ploy by some unknown force sealed her Hatred. Mantys Thranx

“But your friend is a coward… and everyone should know it, whenever they see his face.”

With her eyes still on Acier she leaned over and whispered in Lorn’s ear.

“You might live, but you will carry me with you anywhere you go.” And then, in the same motion, those claws that had been hell-bent on tearing the Jedi’s heart out lashed toward his face.

Not simply to make a scar, something worse than that. Instead Mercy pushed the returned Dark Side into the carving, trying to leave something poisonous behind. Something that would be agony when the Light touched him, something that would remind him of her every time he reached for the Force.

If she was successful, there would be an ugly carved sigil running through his face in ancient Sith.

It spelled coward as a concept.

.

ERASE THE PAST

 

[Tobias Dib]

Allies: SO
Enemies: THR, Jedi
Tags: "Ariel" , Seren Gwyn , OPEN


1.15.18
1.15.17
1.15.16

The transport ship used the planet to stay out of range of the Republic fleets and passed through the interdictor fields employed by the Sith Order. On the outskirts of the system, a large fleet waited for the return of Nemesis. Cargo haulers, transport ships, freighters, frigates, shuttles, and other ships had escaped the hell of Thyferra and the battlezone in space to find an escape. Only to find the dream of escape was exactly that—a dream. The same ships that launched Nemesis and his troops remained on the edges of free space where the best avenue to escape the gravity wells should have led to freedom. But instead the ships fell right into the path of the fleet. Dozens of bacta haulers, ships crammed full of tens of thousands of vratix, ships with datacores from the industrial park with information gathered and retrieved before the Republic and Thyferrean forces implemented any plan of cyber defense, and samples of various bacta strains and other biological items that would prove to be of great value were folded into the fleet with navicomputers slaved to the Sith.

A small smile twitched his lips as Nemesis felt the return of the Force. It wasn't like dipping a toe into the surf. Instead, it was like leaping from a cliff into the ocean below. None of them knew when their connection would return, and when it did, it was like slamming into the water and being surrounded by a pressure as familiar as breathing. One hand drifted to his belt, fingers tapping lightly on a crystal while the burns earned early in the shuttle ride mended, nerves regrew, and fresh skin stretched over ravaged flesh. A small sigh escaped as he turned his glowing gaze toward the woman nearby. "We have been restored. You can sense the one you were clearly worried about. Then one of my men will find you suitable quarters." He turned away as his own senses stretched out for a presence on the planet as well known as his own reflection. But before making contact, he paused. His father would survive; there was no need to cross that particular bridge. Not now.

The shuttle Nemesis, Seren, and the other former prisoners were on headed for the hangar bay of the Leviathan Star Destroyer christened 'Light's Bane'. As the ship settled on repulsor lifts, the landing ramp lowered to a group of waiting Ronin, Sith Legionnaires, and the captain of the capital ship. His massive form exited the ship and headed for the turbolift, Captain Marsden and Colonel Essex falling to either side. "Report." The captain went first. "All ships are now slaved to our control. Those that left the refinery and made it to hyperspace have their maps altered, which will bring them out near the Blackwall where our forces are already taking them. The others, with bacta shipments, are headed for Republic worlds and into other shipping lanes. I'm sure they will doctor their records so they can make their profits, despite knowing their shipments have been compromised. Nothing inspires lies and devious nature as a threat to net profits."

The turbolift doors opened with a swoosh, and Nemesis nodded. "Good. Dismissed." The giant and the colonel moved down the corridor, leaving the captain to return to the bridge. "I want an after-action report. And find out the names of the commandos who attempted, and failed, to thwart me." Nemesis paused outside his quarters. "How many Ronin did we lose?" Colonel Essex glanced at the datapad in his hands. "Roughly seven companies. We're still getting reports that some survived. I'll have an updated estimate within the hour, my Lord." The giant merely nodded before entering his quarters and letting the door close behind him.

Crossing the spartan room, he removed the data chips where many of Thyferra's banks were drained of credits and transferred through multiple shell companies. It was almost too easy. For the first few hours of the assault, the enemy forces were too busy responding to the physical attacks, which allowed his cyber team to work and consolidate their objectives completely unmolested. Only after the first half of the invasion did the enemy start shoring up their defenses on that particular front. But by then, it was too late. Oh, he allowed his foe to play their games, which only divided their attention on an objective already completed. It was amusing seeing their 'success', knowing his people merely played at failure and frustration.

The armor and clothing were removed, and the man walked to the refresher, bare feet padding across the plush carpet. Steam slipped through the door as he cleansed himself of sweat, blood, and the excitement of victorious endeavors. When he exited the refresher some time later, he was wrapped in a massive black robe that fit his gargantuan frame. Wet hair fell in disheveled waves to his shoulders as he moved to a seemingly seamless wall. At the touch of his hand, the wall receded, and he entered a secret room as the wall slipped back into its place. The walls were lined with cases holding armor from various origins. Weapons lay mounted on the walls. A large, overstuffed nerf leather chair sat at the center of the room with a table set before it. Silently, he moved to a large machine in the corner of the room as he glanced at the timer on the exterior display.

0.00.05
0.00.04
0.00.03
0.00.02
0.00.01
0.00.00

A long silken stream of obsidian fluid poured from the machine. The aroma was magnificent. Once the stream ended, he collected the mug and carried it over to where he settled into the chair with an appreciative sigh. The vapor from the steaming cup rose to his face, and he inhaled, a contented sound escaping his lips that curved upwards. "The perfect Kesselian Spice Caf ... Six hours to brew a single, exquisite serving. A toast for you, Connel, and Omega Squad." He sipped the beverage and grinned. The six-hour timer so many pursued, hoping to circumvent whatever plan came to fruition once it ended, was never something they could affect. Nor was it a thing they needed to be concerned with. But just knowing how it lent itself to psyops, quicker responses of poor judgment, and a fear of what it could be finally drew forth a low chuckle of amusement.

"Foolish Jedi, tricks are for Sith. And victories."

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

Objective One
Industrial Complex Refinery
Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Revna Marr

The headbutt made Zaiya see stars. Actual little white ones. Which was almost impressive considering she could not feel the Force anymore.

"Nngh!"

Pain burst across her forehead before fingers tangled into her hair and yanked. Zaiya cried out as her head snapped sideways, colorful braid whipping through ash as Revna rolled them over.

Then everything became a bout of sharp elbows and bony knees, dirt, and desperate little grunts of effort. Zaiya shoved. Revna twisted. The Jedi Knight tried to hook a leg around the Sith and discovered that without the Force lending strength to her lithe Lovalla frame, this was considerably less effective than she would have liked.

Drat! Actually, it was becoming increasingly apparent that most things were less effective than she would have liked. She should have trained in a void space for these things...

But then Revna snarled something inches from her face, but Zaiya barely heard it. The battlefield had become too loud around them, explosions hammering the earth and making things rumble violently beneath them. Blasterfire snapped overhead, ash kicked up around them, and still beyond the refinery the Sith and Republic forces continued to crash together as the fury to fight seemed to rage anew -- and while cries of pain and jolts of anguish cut the air, Zaiya from her periphery could see people dying.

Only now she could not feel them die... and maybe that made it all the worse. Because no one wanted to die alone. She didn't want that for anyone.

Another explosion thundered close enough to shake the ground. Zaiya twisted free when Revna pulled away, gasping as she scrambled through the dirt. Her ribs screamed with every breath and her shoulder burned whenever she put weight on it. That didn't even include how her forehead throbbed with the pulse of her heartbeats and every frantic inhale scraped at a throat already raw from smoke.

But it was the way the colors danced over her skin that betrayed just how badly she was fading.

The vibrant Lovalla who had stood against Revna minutes ago was disappearing beneath the ash. One rosey golden hand had paled toward a sickly and silver and the brilliant teals and blues had dulled into washed out stains beneath her skin. Even fear struggled to summon more than a weak flicker of yellow through the grey.

Without the Force, Zaiya could not maintain the brilliant bioluminescence that had always come so naturally since she discovered she could weild it. Without that resonance there was no Aris, no Domxite, no vast emotional tapestry and the weave of colors and lights of everyone around her.

There was only Zaiya... And Zaiya had never realized quite how small herself could feel again.

Those thoughts were cast to the wind as conciousness brought to the fore that Revna was shouting again, something about the Republic and about what they had done and how everyone dying because of it.

"I don't..." Zaiya began only to cough, struggling to remain upright.

"I don't know!" Because she didn't. There was no Force carrying answers to her. No empathic impression telling her whether Revna believed what she was saying. Zaiya didn't even know if the Republic had caused this.

She only knew people were dying. Had been dying since the Sith came with their ships to Thyferra and set fire to the fields, sent Sith troopers to start killing people, and caused whatever it was that had felt corrupted and terrible earlier to sweep across the industry complex and fleeing civilians.

All Zaiya knew is that she had to keep Revna from adding to them. So when she threw the pearl, for hopeful second Zaiya thought maybe, maybe, she had done it. Nope. Revna got back up.

"Oh come on!" Zaiya barely had time to brace before the woman hit her, the pair crashign down again. This time Zaiya knew immediately she was losing. Her legs kicked desperately against the dirt and fingers clawed for leverage. She twisted, shoved, tried to wedge an elbow somewhere useful, but Revna was stronger and Zaiya's muscles were beginning to tremble with exhaustion. And when an arm locked around her throat, Zaiya went rigid.

"Nghk!" Pressure closed around her neck and the Lovalla's hands immediately flew to Revna's arm, pulling uselessly as panic exploded through her. Too close, the girl was too close. And while Zaiya could not sense the hunger lurking inside the woman anymore or whatever darkness might be staring down at her, the Lovalla as a species had at one point been prey and apparently some very ancient part of Zaiya remembered and icy fear ran down her spine in alarm, her already racing heartbeat going wild.

Zaiya's entire galaxy became a bloody Revna hovering over her, those ember eyes fixed upon opal iridescent blue, the Lovalla bucking and trying to twist as her lungs demanded air.

No no no --

Her vision began to go dark, and then suddenly, Zaiya's hands slipped and went clamping around Revna's forearm. A sudden powerful jolt of electricity went surging from the jolt ring she wore, the bangles of her arms jiggling with all the movements. But even as Revna gasped and grunted, it wasn't enough to knock her unconscious. Nope, not even close. But at least finally the muscles around Zaiya's throat suddenly went slack as the arm went numb and Zaiya ripped herself free.

"Hhk --!" Air tore painfully back into her lungs. She collapsed onto one elbow, coughing violently, one hand clutching her throat as every breath came ragged and wet. Hot pinpricks of tears burned at the corners of her opalescent eyes and for several seconds, all Zaiya could do was try to breathe. In. Out. Ow-www. In again.

It was then that what Revna had been saying, the last bits, finally registered, the Sith woman nursing her stunned arm as she tried to get her bearings together.

I don't want to kill you, Jedi.

Zaiya stared at her. Really stared, those opal blue eyes baring down at the Revna as if trying to stare into her soul. There was no Force or empathic resonance to tell the Lovalla what Revna felt. No shifting and swirl of colors except her own and even those had faded to sickly ghosts.

Zaiya only had Revna's words.

I don't want to kill you.

And something stirred over Zaiya's grimy face as she stared at Revna through a fringe of tangled multicolored tendrils. And while her lungs still struggled for air, her throat hurt, and her arm remained wrapped around bruised ribs while the other supported her against the bloodied ash, throat burned too much to speak above a rasp.

But slowly... ever so slowly, Zaiya began to smile. It was a small, exhausted, tired, and almost painfully gentle.

Oh. See? There you are.

"You don't want to kill me." It was barely more than a whisper, and Zaiya swallowed painfully. Revna had told her that she possessed a heart capable of killing and sure, Zaiya had never doubted that. But here, with Zaiya weakened in front of her, the Force gone, and her vibrant colors guttering toward grey and every advantage resting in Revna's hands....she had offered mercy and suddenly Zaiya remembered another Sith Lord.

Another person who had told her there was something inside him too broken to heal. At the river on Ukatis, Zaiya had told Nulgath Zardai that wounds meant something was wrong, not that something should be abandoned. That maybe healing would not come today, or tomorrow, but the Force was vast enough to leave the door open.

Zaiya had believed it then and even without being able to feel the Force at all... She believed it now.

"I told someone once..." Zaiya rasped, fighting for every word, "...that I would rather leave the door open."

A faint shimmer stirred through the grey mottling of her skin, a ripple of teal bioluminescence that went skirting over her face and the delicate curves of her cheeks that was Zaiya's and Zaiya's alone.

"Even just... a little crack." Those opal blue eyes lifted toward Revna, their corners crinkling. "So maybe your heart can kill."

The Lovalla Jedi Knight gave another tiny, exhausted smile.

"But it doesn't want to." Zaiya's fingers tightened weakly against the ash as her vision blurred and everything became heavier and harder to focus on. "...and that means there's still something in there worth hoping for."

Then, because apparently Zaiya remained stubborn even while half-strangled, battered, Force-blind, and rapidly running out of anything resembling sensible options:

"So..." that little smile warmed by the tiniest degree even as unconsciousness began to take hold.

"I think.... I'll keep hoping. Hoping you --" but whatever Zaiya was going to say was cut off as just like that, the Lovalla crumpled onto the floor, only the waning faint light of her heartbeat seeming to pulse throughout her mottled spots and stripes in dimming luminescence.

And while the deactivation of the artifact released the grasp of the void that had pressed and suffocated them all with a lack of the Force, the Lovalla Knight remained motionless there...

With only the briefest shimmer of bioluminescence perking up in color as a result.

 

["Ariel"]

Reckoning
ON THE GROUND
THYFERRA

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• [Michael, [Gabriel, [Raguel, [Raphael, [Jeremiel, [Connel [Sariel, [VIGILANT REAPER [
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  
  • "Enterprise" Station Ship
  • Vigilant Reaper
  • Null Vector
  • Speederbike
  • Iron Psalm
  Gear/Armor
  
  
  • Gear(“Bodycam” Datapad, UAD Drone, link to Seraphim AI included)
  • Lightblaster
  • Shortsabers (Nightand Day)
  • 5 Throwing Lightknives
  • 3 Force Blinding Flashbangs
  • RI-17 Rifle-w-MS-0412 Grenade Launcher
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  
  • Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  • Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  • Muscle enhancements.
  • Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  • Hawkeye implants for eyes
  • Advanced Medical Implant
  • Scentzy
  • Injected Nanotech upgrades
  
  
  
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

The world exploded. There was no warning. No countdown. No change in the rhythm of battle. One moment Connel Vanagor was walking toward a broken enemy. The next, Thyferra disappeared in fire. The first detonation lifted the floor beneath him. The second removed it. Connel had enough time to see the wall become fragments before something struck him across the chest and threw him backward. No Force warned him. No instinct whispered through some greater awareness.

Training did. [REEK!] Bren Alazar's voice cut through the explosions.

The armored vehicle was already moving. Jeremiel didn't bother with finesse. The REEK smashed through what remained of an interior partition, rotary cannons sweeping aside burning wreckage as the vehicle fishtailed through debris.

[MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!] Omega moved. Not toward safety. Toward each other. Raphael came first, one arm hauling a wounded squad member while his rotary cannon hung from its harness. Sariel appeared through smoke. Raguel followed. Gabriel stumbled through falling debris with one hand pressed against the side of his helmet. Bren counted. Always counted. Connel hit the REEK's side hard enough to dent something that probably had a warranty. Jeremiel leaned across and grabbed his webbing.

[GET IN!] Another explosion tore through the tower. Connel disappeared inside. The hatch slammed. Then the building came down. The REEK vanished beneath it.

_______________

Outside, the industrial park became hell. Charges hidden beneath roads detonated. Warehouses erupted. Windows burst outward for hundreds of meters. Republic infantry disappeared beneath showers of transparisteel and duracrete. An N-AV7 Sovereign simply ceased to exist when the roadway beneath its tracks erupted. Another was thrown sideways, its turret smashing against the ground before the vehicle rolled. A third survived. Its crew did not hesitate.

The tank's guns turned through the smoke and continued firing. Clone formations scattered. Some made cover. Some dragged wounded comrades with them. Some never moved again. Others climbed from wreckage, checked their rifles, found the nearest surviving sergeant and returned to the fight. Because that was what soldiers did.

Crown Breaker took the blast nearly broadside. The walker staggered. One leg buckled. Armor plating ripped away in burning sheets. Warning alarms screamed throughout the cockpit as systems died in rapid succession. Regal looked over the damage report. Then out at the battlefield. Then back at the damage report. [That's rude.] Another explosion rocked the walker. Regal grabbed the controls. [Still got the gun?]

A green indicator blinked. The heavy cannon rotated. [Then we're still a tank.] Crown Breaker fired.

---

The REEK moved. Somehow. Its engine screamed beneath tonnes of wreckage. One wheel spun uselessly before finding purchase. Jeremiel punched the throttle. The vehicle climbed out of the building that had fallen on it. Armor plating hung loose. One rotary cannon was gone. Half the external sensors were dead. The windshield was cracked into an intricate spiderweb. Smoke poured from somewhere that definitely should not have been smoking.


Raphael stared at the ceiling. [Anybody else hear that?]

[Engine,] Jeremiel answered.

[That supposed to sound like that?]

[No.]

[Great.]

Bren looked around. [Sound off.]

One after another. Omega answered.

Connel answered last. [Ariel.]

Bren nodded. Everyone. Battered. Bleeding. But everyone.

Then Connel looked through the fractured transparisteel. The industrial park burned. Republic soldiers moved among wreckage. Medics were already working. Clone troopers dug others from collapsed structures. Damaged armor crawled from the smoke. Some vehicles weren't moving. Some never would again. The Sith had paid dearly for the industrial park. Now the Republic had too. Connel's jaw tightened. Then he remembered. The giant. [Stop.]

Jeremiel looked over. [What?]

[Stop the REEK.]

Bren saw something in his expression. [Connel.]

[He's alive.] The brakes screamed. Connel opened the hatch.

[Ariel!] But he was already outside.

___________________

He found the giant among the wreckage. Not Nemesis. He didn't know that yet. He only saw the man he had been fighting lying broken upon the duracrete. The lightsaber lay several meters away. Connel approached carefully.

Da[COLOR]GOLD]y[/COLOR] remained in his hand. Extinguished.

The man moved. Connel stopped. His hand immediately went toward the hilt. Not threatening. Ready. The man's arm stretched toward him instead. “Nemesis... not me...”

Connel froze. “I am... Jerek Adien...” Something inside Connel went cold. “Knight of the... Jedi Order...” Connel stared. Not at the armor. At the man inside it. “He did this... to me...” Jerek coughed. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth. “Sorry... brother...” Connel was moving before the last word finished. Da[COLOR]GOLD]y[/COLOR] hit the ground.

He dropped beside him. [No.] His gloves found Jerek's armor, searching automatically for wounds he already knew he couldn't treat. [Stay with me.] No response. [Jerek.] Nothing. Connel pressed two fingers against his neck. Nothing. [Jerek!] Nothing. The Force was gone. Perhaps that made it worse. There was no fading presence. No final sensation. No transition into something greater. Just a man.

And then... nothing. Connel slowly sat back. Behind him, Bren approached but said nothing. Neither did the others. Connel looked at the dead man's face. A Jedi. Not Nemesis. A prisoner. A victim. A weapon someone else had pointed at Thyferra. Connel had offered him surrender. Again. And again. And again. Even after everything this man had apparently done. He had offered. Drop your weapons. I'll cuff you myself. There's no shame in surrendering. And now Connel understood something horrifying. Perhaps some part of Jerek had been trying to surrender all along. Connel reached down and closed the man's eyes.

[You don't apologize to me.] His voice was quiet. [You didn't do this.] He remained there another second. Then another. And finally: [I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner.]

Bren's voice came quietly from behind him. [Connel.] Connel looked up. Bren was staring across the ruined industrial park. Fires. Dead. Wounded. Destroyed armor. Clone medics working among shattered formations. The operation they had spent hours salvaging had just been torn apart. And Nemesis... Wasn't here.

Connel stood. Slowly. His expression changed. Not rage. Something much more dangerous. Understanding. He looked at Jerek's armor. The height. The proportions. The pieces that suddenly didn't quite fit. The Sith who had never actually addressed him by name. The strange inconsistencies. Trask wearing Jedi robes. A Jedi wearing Nemesis's armor. Pieces moved into place.

Connel looked at Bren. [That wasn't Nemesis.]

[No. He gave us someone to chase.]

Bren nodded. [And blew the board when we caught him.]

Connel looked across the destruction. Then back at Jerek. [No.] Bren raised an eyebrow. Connel picked up Day. [He murdered a Jedi and expected us to call it clever.] The lightsaber returned to his belt. [He doesn't get to decide what this means.]

Behind them, engines growled. One surviving Sovereign rolled through the smoke. Then another. Damaged Republic transports moved behind them. Clone troopers reorganized into smaller formations. CrownBreaker limped from the inferno, scarred nearly beyond recognition, its remaining heavy weapon still tracking for targets.

The REEK coughed smoke. Its engine made a noise that caused Raphael to wince. But it rolled forward. Bren looked across what remained of his battlefield. Casualty reports were already pouring through his helmet. He didn't hide from them. People had died. Good people. They would mourn them. But not yet.

[Michael to all Republic elements.] Static answered. Then voices. One. Three. Ten. More. Bren looked toward Connel. Connel nodded. [Report.]

The battlefield answered. Units destroyed. Units damaged. Wounded. Missing. Dead. And then, mixed among them: Combat capable. Again. Combat capable. Again. Combat capable. Crown Breaker checked in. Regal's voice came through beneath a symphony of warning alarms. [[Mobility compromised. Armor compromised. Several systems compromised. My relationship with this walker is currently compromised.] A pause. [[Gun works.]

Bren almost smiled. [Copy, Regal.] Connel looked down one final time at Jerek Adien. Then toward the burning horizon. Nemesis had anticipated them. Fine. He had prepared contingencies. Fine. He had hidden behind civilians. Behind Sithspawn. Behind soldiers. Behind another Jedi. Fine. He had detonated an entire industrial park rather than allow himself to lose control of it. Fine. Connel pulled his rifle around from its sling. Checked the power cell. Charged it.

Bren watched him. [What now?]

Connel looked toward the real battlefield. [We find him.]

Bren nodded. [And when we do?]

Connel glanced once more at Jerek. His answer came without hesitation. [We give him the same choice.]

Bren understood immediately. Because that was the difference. Nemesis could turn a Jedi into a monster. Murder thousands. Poison cities. Use civilians as shields. Blow up his own soldiers. And Connel Vanagor would still give him the opportunity to put down his weapon. Not because Nemesis deserved mercy. Because Connel refused to let Nemesis decide what kind of man Connel would become. He looked toward the surviving members of Omega. [Then if he refuses...] Night and Da[COLOR]GOLD]y[/COLOR] hung behind his back like always. His father's lessons remained even when the Force did not. Connel's eyes hardened. [We finish it.]

Behind him, the REEK's engine coughed. Raphael looked at Jeremiel. [Is it supposed to be on fire?]

Jeremiel looked at the burning rear quarter. [No.]

[Should we do something about that?]

[Yes.] Neither moved.

Bren stared at them. [Could you two please keep our only functioning armored transport from exploding?]

Jeremiel pointed toward the devastated industrial park. [Compared to everything else today?]

He shrugged. [It's doing fine.]

For the first time in several hours... Connel smiled behind the mask. Once. Quietly. Then he picked up Jerek Adien. Not Nemesis. Not an enemy trophy. A fallen Jedi. [Get him aboard.] Connel looked toward the burning city. The hunt wasn't over. It had simply acquired the correct name. Nemesis.

TAGS • ARE • Tobias Dib
Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Makko Vyres]

MAKKO

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

Allies: Mantys Thranx
OOC: referencing Corazona von Ascania post in objective 2 as the void stops

The mist was still settling through the basement when the suppression lifted.

His sense of the Force did not come back gently. One moment it was a distant thing at the edge of his reach. The next it slammed back into him. As awareness of every living thing and every piece of technology returned, it stole the air from his lungs. Darkfire dipped in his hand.

The Skirtons wavered on their hover as his concentration was torn sideways - away from the vats and the dark aisle and the last of the fallen hosts. His connection to them through the Force returned. But a more intrinsic, stronger connection returned.

Cora.

The bond did not offer pictures so much as sensation. It came raw and unfiltered. Surprise first. Then pain, bright and sudden. He felt the burn of antiseptic in a throat that was not his, the gag of a tube, the frantic hammer of a heart under the influence of emergency medication.

For a terrible second he could not tell whether she was dying or waking.

Makko braced a gauntleted hand against the nearest vat housing and stayed there, head bowed, while the Nightshrike HUD kept painting threats that encroached on him.

Luciana’s face rose unbidden behind his eyes, small and warm and crawling across their floor at home, and the thought of her growing up without her mother hit harder than any of the things he had just put down in the dark.

He had left them both to come here. He had told himself it was duty. Standing in a poisoned basement on Thyferra, with Cora’s terror still echoing down the bond, duty felt like a poor word for absence.

The spike softened as quickly as it had come. Something cool moved through her, and the panic receded into a heavy, drugged quiet. She was still there. Alive.

Makko dragged a breath back into his chest and forced his grip to steady on Darkfire. The basement was still his problem. Cora was still somewhere he could not reach. He brushed up against her mind.

He keyed the upstairs channel only long enough to keep his voice level.

"Mantys, the suppression just lifted. I felt it. I need five seconds, then I am moving again."

He did not explain the rest. There was no room in a battlefield comm for the way his hands had started to shake.

 

[Taiia Locke]

//: Allyson Locke //:
//: Darth Prazutis //:

​

Taiia felt the Force return before she understood anything else.

What had been a distant pressure, faint enough that even brushing against it had hurt, suddenly rushed back into place with such force that it stole the breath from her chest. Awareness flooded outward again, the battlefield sharpening around her, every presence becoming immediate, every emotion suddenly louder than it had been moments before.

Then she felt Allyson.

Taiia turned, and for a moment, she simply stared. She had seen Allyson angry before. Frightened. Wounded. Reckless enough to keep moving long after anyone else would have stopped. She had seen the Ghost beneath the woman and the woman beneath the Ghost.

She had never seen this.

There was almost nothing recognizable in what poured through their bond. Fear remained somewhere beneath it, but anger had swallowed nearly everything else. Not the focused anger Taiia had allowed herself against Prazutis. This was something rawer, something that had stripped away caution and reason until only one need remained.

Kill.

Taiia's expression changed.

"Allyson..."

The Corellian vanished. Taiia's eyes widened; this was not a force cloak. Her wife was folding space. Then Allyson reappeared several steps closer to Prazutis. Taiia barely had time to process it before she vanished again, space collapsing around her in violent little fractures as she drove herself forward. Allyson had disappeared into the Force before. She had teleported through anchors, hidden herself so completely that even experienced Force users struggled to find her.

This was something Taiia had never seen her do. More worrying still, she was not entirely certain Allyson knew she was doing it either. Allyson was no longer fighting with a plan. This was pure instinct, no caution, only pure rage.

At the same time, Prazutis changed.

The man Taiia had fought only moments before disappeared beneath the return of something vastly greater. The Force poured back into him with such violence that the battlefield answered before he ever moved. Stone trembled beneath Taiia's feet, debris lifted from the ruined ground, fire bent toward him, and the air itself seemed to thicken beneath the sudden return of that oppressive presence.

Taiia understood immediately how much the absence of the Force had changed their fight; she had almost forgotten how he felt on Odessen, but she was very quickly reminded. More dangerous than him in that moment was the fact that Allyson did not care. The Corellian flickered forward again, already throwing herself into the reach of something that had just become far more dangerous than it had been seconds earlier.

Taiia made the decision then.

They were done.

Emerald flame swallowed her where she stood.

Nightsister magick carried Taiia through the dark seam between one place and another before releasing her directly behind Allyson. Green fire curled from her shoulders as she caught her wife around the waist with one arm and across the chest with the other, wrenching her backward before momentum could carry her any farther toward Prazutis.

"Enough."

Allyson fought her immediately.

She twisted violently in Taiia's arms, trying to tear herself free with a strength that had little to do with what condition her body was actually in. One hand reached back toward Prazutis while the other clawed at the arm across her chest, every movement driven by the same singular need that Taiia could still feel burning through their bond.

Taiia tightened her grip.

"We're leaving."

The battlefield convulsed around them. Prazutis' power erupted outward, shattering stone and metal, and burning wreckage tore across the ruined ground while fire split the earth beneath them. Taiia braced against the pressure as it struck, but Allyson was still fighting her, still trying to turn toward the man at the center of it all.

That settled any lingering doubt.

Emerald flame spilled rapidly across Taiia's hands and over the woman struggling against her. Nightsister magick wound around them both as the battlefield began to darken at its edges. Before the Nether swallowed them entirely, Taiia looked back toward Prazutis. There was anger in her expression still, but none of the uncertainty that had existed when she first stepped between him and Allyson.

"You wanted to know what she would become if you pushed hard enough." Her arms tightened around Allyson as the Corellian surged against her again.

"Now you do."

The green flame climbed higher around them. Taiia's eyes narrowed.

"You will not use me to break her again. And if you come for my family after this... there will not be another conversation. You may be bound to your word to protect me. But I am unbound; I will kill you if you touch her again."

Then Thyferra disappeared.

The Nether took them; Allyson did not stop fighting. If anything, the sudden loss of Prazutis only seemed to make the fury worse. She twisted hard enough that Taiia nearly lost her hold, shoulders straining beneath the effort as one hand still reached blindly for something that was no longer there. Taiia held on; the passage through the Nether was brief, little more than darkness and fractured impressions before Taiia found the place already fixed in her mind.

Her ship.

Another flare of emerald flame swallowed them; cold metal replaced broken earth beneath their feet. Allyson was still fighting before the last traces of green fire had disappeared. Taiia staggered half a step as the woman surged against her, trying to pull away, trying to turn back toward a battlefield that no longer existed around them. Taiia caught her again, both hands coming up to keep her close.

"Allyson."

She released her only to make sure she caught Allyson's face between both hands and kissed her. There was nothing tentative about it. Taiia pulled her close and kissed her with the same certainty she had used to drag her from Thyferra, one hand slipping behind her neck while the other remained firm against her cheek. For a moment, Allyson stayed rigid against her.

Still fighting.

Still somewhere else.

Taiia did not let go.

She held the kiss until the resistance faltered, until there was finally the smallest break in the tension running through Allyson's body, the first sign that something familiar had managed to reach through everything else. Only then did Taiia draw back enough to rest her forehead against hers.

"I'm here."

Her thumb brushed slowly across Allyson's cheek.

"I'm alive."

Taiia stayed there, close enough that Allyson could feel every breath between them.

"He didn't take me from you."

A softer kiss followed.

"Stay with me, Min Larel."

Thread Exit For Taiia & Allyson Locke

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Zaltin Corporation's Production Facility
Interacting with: Quinn Varanin
Items: x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x

"I am sorry, you said it first?" Sibylla could only stare at Quinn with incredulity. HOnestly, it felt for a moment there as if she were talking to Aurelian himself, back when they had first crossed words as Junior Represenative and he the Senator of Plooroid. The man had done his best to rile her up or say the most senseless remarks that had only infurated her at his audacity then.

Of all the arguments Sibylla had expected from a Sith Lord defending an extermination order, somehow that had not been among them.

"That is not how --" but Siyblla stopped herself because there was no point. Quinn had drawn her line, and Sibylla had drawn hers. Neither woman was going to cross it today.

Besides, Quinn needed medical attention. Sibylla could hear it beneath every stubborn word. See it in the way the Echani fought to straighten herself, in the blood gathering at the corner of her mouth and the trembling hand wiping blackened tears across her cheeks. Whatever held Quinn together was failing piece by piece, yet somehow she still found enough breath to lecture Sibylla on the Force, Shiraya, and the moral failings of the Republic.

"Do not drag Shiraya into -- Quinn!" just how fast could this woman despite her injury, Sibylla mused, because suddenly Quinn took activated her shiwld and then plucked her comm from her belt, drawing Sibylla's attention from the corridor where the growls and grunts of the technobeast zombie dead grew closer.

"What are you doing?!" But by then, the personal shield about her hummed to life, the blue white freqency providing a bit of protection. But that wasn't the most alarming, because the comm blinked green as connection was established and then Quinn, without knowing, spoke to Aurelian.

There was equal parts relief as much as horror as her eyes widened at what came next. This is Quinn Varanin...

"Oh, for blast's sake." Sibylla opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again as Quinn proceeded to explain that Sibylla's continued survival presently depended upon the blaster skills of a noblewoman. The utter deadpan glare from Sibylla would have been hilarious in another situation.

"I am standing right here." She uttered out, and when Quinn finally returned the communicator, and Sibylla snatched it back with a glare.

You know now that I think about it, perhaps in another life, we could have been cute together.

Sibylla stopped dead, because even the appproaching horde momentarily failed to compete with that. Slowly her head swiveled to QUinn.

The woman was bleeding internally, cut off from the Force, surrounded by thousands of undead monstrosities after ordering the extermination of Republic forces, and this was apparently where her mind had wandered. Sibylla gave a slow blink.

"Quinn...I am going to assume that is the blood loss talking."

A guttural chorus rose from the darkness ahead. And sure enough, there they were. The dead. The blight had spread fast --There were dozens. ANd in that instant, Sibylla's amusement vanished.

"Shiraya..." Whatever Quinn believed about the Republic, whatever Sibylla believed about the Sith, whatever reckoning waited for both of them if they survived this...

Aurelian had answered the comm. He or at least someone knew where they were. So Sibylla planted her feet as the first creatures broke into a charge.

"You had better hope whoever you just threatened likes me considerably more than they dislike you."

Her finger tightened against the trigger and green fire tore into the darkness.

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Thyferra

Equipment:
Vanguard Robes | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

ALLIES: Lorn Reingard | Judah Lesan
ADVERSARIES: Srina Talon | Mercy

Ace's eyes flicked toward Judah. Still tangled in Srina's restraints, but moving. Fighting against them. Alive. That was enough for now. If they got out of this refinery, getting Judah free would be his first priority.

If.

His attention snapped back down when fingers tightened around his hand. Srina. Ace lowered his gaze immediately. Her eyes were open. Barely, but open. Responsive. Relief caught painfully in his chest, but he knew better than to trust it. His hand remained firmly pressed against the wound beneath her jaw.

Then she told him to run. Ace's expression immediately hardened.

"I have to try."

She moved before he could say anything else. Srina pushed herself upward with agonizing slowness, and Ace instinctively shifted to support her. His eyes followed hers toward Mercy.

Then the Titan reacted and Ace's brow furrowed. Something had passed between them. He could tell that much from Srina's desperate movement and Mercy's sudden change, but without the Force there was no way to tell what.

Then Mercy finally looked at him.

“You are not the one to tell us what to do, Acier Moonbound.” Using

Even now? Ace stared at her incredulously. Srina was bleeding out between them and Mercy still found the energy to be radically fucking defiant. This wasn't the time.

But then came the offer. Take Lorn and leave. Ace's shoulders loosened slightly. "The other one too." He said, referring to Judah.

It had worked. Somehow, beneath everything Mercy was, her love for Srina outweighed her hatred for them. Maybe they could all actually walk away from this.

But then she continued.

… because if she does die?” She jerked her head towards Srina. “I will not stop until everyone on Thyferra is dead… and then the next world… and the next.”

Ace went completely still as Calyx's memories returned. Black smoke. Turbolaser fire. Red flesh falling from the sky. Mercy's voice echoing throughout. Almost the exact same words she was saying now.

The desperation disappeared from Ace's eyes and his jaw tightened. "...Then I'll keep standing in your way."

His words were quiet. Cold. Not a threat. Promise.

Then the galaxy crashed back into him and Ace gasped. The Force flooded through senses that had spent the last several minutes adjusting to silence. His awareness exploded outward all at once: life, pain, fear, rage, machinery, distant combat, the people around him. His free hand struck the floor as vertigo washed over him.

Fuck.

For one strange moment he'd forgotten just how loud everything was. Ace squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to breathe until the overwhelming rush separated into recognizable pieces again.

Cognizance replaced silence, and beneath everything else came something he hadn't missed. Those faint, familiar whispers lurking somewhere behind his thoughts. The remnants of a path he'd walked away from.

Ace opened his eyes as a pale blue mist had begun spilling through the refinery vents. His first instinct was suspicion, but then he breathed it in and felt something ease.

Not much. His nose remained broken, his chest still screamed whenever he breathed too deeply, and every part of him Mercy had introduced to solid metal continued making its objections known. But the edge softened. Enough that Ace noticed.

Then Mercy snapped her fingers and it was gone. Just as fast as it came. The haze vanished in a violent rush. He exhaled slowly through his mouth. Annoyed.

Mercy's attention shifted back toward Lorn. Ace's eyebrows rose at what she said about him. Now that the Force was back now, he reached outward. He couldn't feel the intent to kill. Instead, he felt malice.

"Mercy!"

Again. She was wasting time. Whatever point she thought she needed to make, whatever punishment Lorn had earned in her mind, Srina was still critically wounded.

Mercy leaned closer to him and Ace's eyes widened as her claws moved. He couldn't get there. One hand was still pressed against Srina's throat. His other arm supported her weight. Leaving her now meant gambling with the blood he'd spent the last several moments desperately trying to keep inside her.

So Ace stayed, and Mercy's claws cut across Lorn's face. His stomach twisted and his eyes shut tight, then he turned his head away.​

 

[Revna Marr]

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

​

Revna had hoped that the Lightwalker would hear her words and be smart enough to yield to prevent further hostilities, but her words seemed to fall on deaf ears. The Jedi girl struggled in her grip, trying to wrench the arm that was locked around her throat free to gain a breath of air. She was growing weaker, and fading faster - and that had little to do with the chokehold Revna maintained on her battered and bruised foe.

Quite suddenly, a sharp jolt of electricity ripped through Revna’s arms and momentarily stun-locked her muscles. She clenched her teeth in pained surprise, silently applauding her enemy for keeping her will to fight. It was admirable, if a little desperate.

But it was enough to force Revna’s hold to loosen momentarily, and it gave the Jedi enough space to pull herself free and gasp for much needed air.

The two of them were only paces apart from one another, nursing wounds and trying to pull themselves together enough to commit to their next move. Sticky blood was getting in the way of Revna’s vision, blurring her sight from time to time. She felt like an utter mess - she didn’t even have to imagine how she looked to those around her.

Opal eyes stared hard at Revna, as if she was trying to look into the Sith’s very soul, and she held the other woman’s stare without fear. As the battle for Thyferra continued around them, Revna saw a small, tired, but impossibly gentle smile slip across the Jedi’s face.

Maybe some of what the little Darth had said had actually been heard after all.

Despite their dire circumstances, and the fact that they were supposed to be fighting and trying to kill one another, Revna made no further hostile moves towards the Lightwalker. Like a predator, she could tell her prey was weakening, and it was only a matter of time before the Jedi collapsed from sheer exhaustion or whatever seemed to be ailing her. So Revna simply waited, hovering like a black shadow, her corrupted gaze never leaving the Jedi’s face. She listened as the other woman spoke, her voice weak and quiet. She held onto hope, though what she seemed to be hoping for brought Revna a touch of grim amusement. Did she believe that Revna could be saved from the Darkness? That a doorway to the Light would be opened to her?

The Jedi wobbled, and Revna’s gaze brightened with rising anticipation. She was waiting…waiting for the moment to make her next move. The other woman began to speak again, but her words were cut off as she collapsed to the ash and blood soaked ground, finally unconscious.

A strange mixture of dread and relief flooded through Revna’s veins, and as she stepped towards the collapsed woman, she felt a rush of undiluted power flood back into every part of her being, causing her to momentarily stumble and suck in a startled breath.The Force had returned to her, somehow…someway, and the full breadth of her power was now thrumming through her veins again, and with its return came the crash of emotions that filled the field of battle. Darth X'aviera took a moment to simply exist in that moment, bathing in the dark glory as it returned in full, before she turned her full attention back to the Jedi on the ground at her feet.

How fortuitous that it came only seconds after her Jedi foe had fallen unconscious and was now at Revna’s complete mercy. Had it happened just moments prior, perhaps the Jedi would have found the renewed strength and energy to resume the fight, forcing Revna to actually slay her foe.

Ignoring everything else around her for the moment, Revna dropped down beside the Jedi and checked for a pulse under the girl’s jaw, and felt a faint heartbeat; she was still alive, and it seemed as if her pulse was gaining strength with each passing second, now that the Force had returned. It was an intruiging thing, something that made Revna curious to know more about her captive - but questions could come later. First she needed to get the feth off the planet.

Revna Force recalled her helm back to her hand and slipped it back over her head, re-establishing her communications to other Sith forces. She heard orders come down from higher ranked Sith, but she left those orders for other Sith forces still on the ground. She had another matter to tend to, and so she sent a communication to her command ship that waited in orbit somewhere beyond Thyferra for an immediate evac and prisoner transport, before she pressed the Force suggestion of sleep over her unconscious captive, ensuring that her slumber was deep and undisturbed by the violence that continued to erupt around them.

As she waited for her pickup, Revna mused on just how easy it would be to kill the Lightwalker who still lay crumpled at her feet. She would feel no pain - she would simply drift from her unconscious state to eternal sleep…or whatever came after death. The temptation was strong, and the darkest part of Revna's soul urged her to do it, but she exercised her willpower and refrained - at least for now.

A short time later, a transport ship arrived at her location and several of her crewmembers jumped free to collect the prisoner, securing her within the shuttle as Revna boarded behind them. She gave no word to Sith forces that she was leaving the planet’s surface, though no doubt her exfiltration would be noticed by someone.

Leaving the scene of the battle and dodging attacks in the air was a harrowing moment for the shuttle, but the crew was skilled and after several tense, heartstopping moments - they broke free of Thyferra’s atmosphere and made the short jump to Darth X’aviera’s awaiting command ship.

Once aboard, the Sith escorted her unconscious prisoner to a secured section of the medical ward; the crew were wary that a Lightwalker had been brought aboard, but no one truly questioned Revna’s judgment on the matter. They simply did as they were asked and Revna stayed to ensure the Jedi received the proper medical care she needed. The medical chamber was sealed with a biolock, and a guard placed outside the door who had a direct line of communication to the little Marr.

The moment the Jedi stirred from her slumber, Revna would know, and she would be there to welcome the Lightwalker aboard the Vindicator of Faith. ​

Direct Tag: Zaiya Ceti


EXIT POST

​

 

[Xander Blackmoore]

WEARING: xxx | WEAPONS: Lightsaber
TAG: Velda Nar-Donna

The first pulse almost went unnoticed. There was too much happening on Thyferra for another electronic chirp to immediately demand Xander Blackmoore's attention. The battle had turned the world into a cacophony of alarms, weapons fire, overlapping communications, and distant concussions. Then it sounded again, and Xander stopped.

His hand moved toward the receiver before his mind had fully accepted what he was hearing. The encrypted frequency was private, buried beneath enough layers of security that there were very few people in the galaxy who even knew it existed. Only one person could activate it. Velda.

Xander stared at the blinking indicator. She had promised him she would wear the beacon. He had insisted upon it because precautions were what Xander did, especially when it came to those few people he could not tolerate losing. Velda had indulged him, perhaps because she understood that sometimes his excessive preparation was merely concern dressed in more dignified clothing. Neither of them had expected her to actually use it.

"Velda..."

The Force had already become a casualty of whatever weapon the High Republic had unleashed across Thyferra. Xander had felt its absence settle over him like an unnatural silence, leaving behind senses that suddenly seemed insufficient. He could see, hear, and breathe, yet the greater awareness which had accompanied him for so much of his life was simply gone. That absence became infinitely worse when the beacon began to pulse because Xander could not feel Velda.

There was no reaching across the distance for some familiar impression of her, no reassurance through the Force that she was frightened, wounded, furious, or even alive. There was only a blinking point on a display and the knowledge that Velda had activated something she had never expected to need. His fingers closed tightly around the receiver as he looked at the coordinates.

"I'm coming."

Whatever was happening to the Force had reduced the battlefield to something brutally ordinary. Xander could not anticipate danger before it arrived or reach outward to determine what waited beyond the next corridor. Every instinct he had spent years sharpening through the Force suddenly had to rely upon sight, sound, training, and experience. Fortunately, Xander Blackmoore had possessed all four long before the Force had become another weapon in his considerable arsenal.

He took the fastest transport available and drove it toward the coordinates without hesitation. Thyferra passed beneath him in flashes of fire and smoke. The jungle canopy had been broken open in places, blackened wounds cutting through endless green while the war above occasionally painted the clouds with distant streaks of light. Xander scarcely noticed any of it. His attention remained divided between the terrain ahead and the tiny signal that continued to pulse from the receiver.

Every repetition tightened something in his chest. Xander remembered Velda beneath amber light, her hand resting against him while she listened to the beat of his heart. He remembered her telling him that she had everything she wanted and that there was nowhere else she desired to be. More than anything, he remembered the quiet certainty with which she had said that being in his arms was all that mattered.

He had asked her to stay. Now he had no idea whether she still could.

"Stay," Xander whispered through clenched teeth as the coordinates drew nearer. "You bloody stubborn woman, stay."

The bunker came into view, and Xander brought the transport down hard. He was moving before the engines had fully settled, his boots striking the ground as the receiver corrected his direction. There was no familiar sensation of the Force waiting for him when his hand settled near the weapon on his person. No awareness reached ahead of him to search the bunker or locate Velda. There was only the signal.

The corridors forced patience upon him that he did not possess. Without the Force, there was no sensing what waited around a corner or beyond a sealed doorway. Xander moved quickly without becoming careless, following the beacon deeper while its persistent rhythm seemed determined to hammer against every fear he refused to entertain. Velda had activated it because she needed him, and somewhere within this bunker she had finally called upon the promise he had made while Xander had been somewhere else.

The signal strengthened as he continued deeper. Xander quickened his pace, following it toward the chamber ahead. There was no Force to prepare him for what waited beyond it, no warning brushed against his awareness, and no familiar presence reached toward him from the other side. For the first time in longer than Xander could remember, he approached danger as nothing more than a man searching for the woman he loved.

Xander crossed the threshold and stopped.

His eyes found Velda immediately. Everything else inside the chamber became secondary as his attention settled upon her closed eyes and the complete absence of resistance from her body. The sight struck him with enough force that Xander forgot to breathe for a moment. The beacon pulsed once more from the receiver clenched in his hand, confirming what his eyes had already told him.

He had found her, but whatever relief should have accompanied that realization never came. Xander's expression hardened as the initial shock gave way to something colder. His hand settled around the weapon at his side while his eyes remained fixed upon Velda.

He had promised that if she ever needed him, he would come.

Xander had come.