Skirmish THE BANNERLESS | Jedi Raid of TSC Held Tython

[Corazona von Ascania]

Spoiler: A Message to All Jedi

A holomessage finds you, flaring into desaturated blue light. The image of a blonde woman, her face stern and her robes neatly pressed, is wreathed in static. Beside her stands a bearded man, tall and sturdy.

This is Jedi Knight Corazona von Ascania, formerly of the New Jedi Order. I stand here with Master Jasper Kai'el. It is our hope that this message reaches Jedi both near and far.

The Sith no longer linger behind their Blackwall. They've brutalized the core of our galaxy, massacring civilizations in their savage campaign across the star system.

The Galactic Alliance has fallen. The New Jedi Order has scattered. Perhaps the Jedi will never find total unity, but that is not why we send this message-

We ask not for your dedication, nor for your understanding - but for your blade.

We call upon friends and allies, those who know us well and those who we've yet to meet: join us in pushing back against the anarchist warlords of the Covenant.

We may never fall under one banner, but we can rally against a common threat: Sith in the core.

Though rich in the Force, Tython had all the misfortune that came with being a world that was both steeped in Jedi history, and situated in the galaxy's deep core.

Within changing hands between the Dark Empire, to the Alliance, to the Galactic Empire, Tython had undergone massive efforts to purify the dark ichor from her life force and mend her broken moon.

Now, the Covenant had burned their way to the core worlds in one fell swoop. Over twenty planets had now fallen under their chaotic jurisdiction. How long would it take for the Sith to sink their corrupted claws into yet another Jedi holy world?

The dust was finally settling from the Alliance's collapse. The Jedi had scattered - some absorbed into the High Republic's Order, others into various smaller enclaves across the galaxy, and many more wandering the stars on their own.

The era of Jedi predominance might've been dimming, but it hadn't been snuffed out entirely.

A transmission wavered through encrypted lines that would reach any and every Jedi that it could. It was a simple message, but one carrying a great weight: we make for Tython.

https://i.ibb.co/TDk07VS3/stationsabo1.png
​

A military fueling station looms above Tython like an oily omen. Suddenly - it goes dark. The power has been cut, alerting the Covenant to the presence of unwanted guests.

Jedi - Cripple the fueling station to help slow the Covenant's war effort.

Covenant - Take out the rats before they can cause irreparable damage.

https://i.ibb.co/9BDwq08/holoheist.png
​

Holocrons from the Jedi temple have been removed from their vaults and are being prepared for transport off world, further into the clutches of the Sith. After the fueling station went dark, the Covenant is on high alert for any interlopers.

Jedi - Sneak into the the temple's hangar and hijack the cargo ship containing the holocrons.

Covenant - Protect the cargo and snuff out the rats.

​

OOC: This skirmish is open to all Jedi PCs as we raid TSC held Tython! No particular faction affiliation is necessary.

This thread will begin in media res with the station's blackout. This means that all characters participating do not need to post themselves traveling to Tython (though you can if you want).

[OOC Thread]
​

Spoiler: Tag List

] Mercy Srina Talon Lily Decoria Jasper Kai'el Anet Raine Madrona A’Mia Valor the Forsaken Ko Vuto Lysander von Ascania Jalen Kai'el Varin Mortifer Brandyn Sal-Soren Arris Windrun Acier Moonbound Connel Vanagor Dynamis "Dynas" Ultra Quinn Varanin Bastila Sal-Soren Ellissanthia Jax Thio Tamsin Starfall Sethran Solivar Warpriest Prime Jonyna Si Braze Reina Daival Kito Lestra Thairk Lohī Eurydice Diogo Eloise Dinn Milla Delvin jeth Sven Halestorm Lily Rhodes Romi Jade Meliant Nilira Vornix Delvin jeth Darth Miasma Darth Apophion Teev Ghruna Zaiya Ceti Brander Mykel Dawson Khenvaaba Aiden Porte Zark San Tekka Bettany Sal-Soren Voli Cholrass

Prior to landing on Tython, aboard the Grafted into Stone. ​

In the hollow of the asteroid, Jedi operatives gather around a holotable. Translucent maps and schematics rotate in a slow, continuous cycle.

“Our objectives are twofold. First,” Cora pointed to a projection of the station, flickering as it turned in the dull blue light. “We sabotage this fueling station. Severing fuel lines, disrupting power sources, and crippling its mechanical innards. Sever only the marked lines - we don’t want the entire thing to blow.

“Second - the holocrons. We know that the vaults beneath the temple have been raided, and we’re anticipating that the Sith are preparing to transport them offworld. We’re not certain of their exact location, so once we make it to the landing pad, you’ll have to sense them through the Force.

“There is a silver lining to this; Tython may have changed hands many times, but the we have knowledge of these structures from previous Alliance intelligence. Our sources indicate that the Empire made minimal alterations. Still, be cautious."

Cora produced a satchel, resting it atop the holotable. She drew back the string, revealing a series of pointed metallic stakes.

“These are Spears of Ashla - each one has been imbued with the Light side of the Force. They are tools that can be used to help combat the darkness. Everyone here will receive one before we land.

“I suspect that the Covenant will be quick to intercept us. Be prepared for a fight, and when our tasks are done - be prepared to run. May the Force be with us.”

Allies: Sethran Solivar
Opps: Tamsin Starfall

The mechanical hum faded like a dying breath. Death, at least for the Sith, tended not to be permanent.

Above Tython, a military fueling station suddenly went dark. It was a brief lull of quiet, the sort that came just before a storm.

“Let’s move,” Cora said to Sethran. “They’ll try and activate emergency generators soon. We need to do as much damage as we can before they get that chance.”

The pair moved down a darkened hallway, towards one of the main industrial fueling lines. Their surroundings weren’t completely invisible - dim red bulbs, powered by an auxiliary source, dotted the corridor. Overloaded circuits could be replaced without much delay. They needed to cripple this station.

“Power’s off,” Cora fed into her comm. “We need to-“

She was answered by an anguished cry, crackling over the airwaves like tortured static. Then, she felt it. The deep, heavy presence of the Dark that had all the gravity of silent thunder. She shot a glance to Sethran, eyes wide but focused.

“They’ve found us,” she murmured.

​

 

[Connel Vanagor]

Get the Frell off our home!
Tython
Undisclosed Location

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  
  • "Enterprise" Station Ship
  • Null Vector
  • Speederbike
  • Iron Psalm
  Gear/Armor
  
  
  • Gear(“Bodycam” Datapad, UAD Drone, link to Seraphim AI and Nanotech included)
  • Lightblaster
  • Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
  • Throwing Lightknives
  • Force Blinding Flashbangs
  • RI-17 Rifle-w-MS-0412 Grenade Launcher
  • Spears of Ashla
  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

Connel did not stay long in the meeting. He knew where to be. He did not tell her, but Cora would know where he was going. He had his own ride. So did his friends.

Tython…

The Ancestral Home… and Birthplace of the Jedi Order…

So why are they always fighting to take it back?

It doesn’t matter right now. Connel sat there in the drop bay of a Raven Dropship screaming along the wavetops approaching what was once the “Master’s Retreat” long ago. Connel's focus was on the mission ahead, not the history of Tython. The dropship's rumble echoed his determination as he prepared to face whatever lay at the "Master's Retreat," knowing the stakes were high and the enemy's presence would test every skill he had honed.

Why he was not in the Vigilant Reaper with the rest of the team was a simple answer. They had a separate objective. It was alright, he needed this time to himself. This one was personal. Why? Not because it was “Tython”, not because it was high stakes. It was because of his father. Yeah, yeah, he’s still thinking about taking care of the name. That’s not it though. The NJO named Caltin “Warden of Tython” before the Empire hit them with everything they had.

This was for “Dad”...

The Raven was coming in low and fast just like it was designed to do. Connel was the only one in the drop bay and was fully armed, and getting on his H.A.L.O. Gear after pulling up the web gear. The drop ramp was already open. The air was rushing through the bay as all he could see was the horizon above and the crashing waves below. The Vanagor's presence would symbolize a return to vigilance and strength, as they once safeguarded the world with unwavering resolve.

One last sling, packed with… well… you’ll see soon enough and he was ready for his drop. Wait? At this height? Yep.

The red lights came on. Not to prepare to drop, but that there was incoming fire. They were getting close as the coastal defenses were picking them up. Streams of bright red light streaked across the sky and away as he watched from the loading ramp. A couple of successful hits brought a stumble in his step and when one of the engines started to flame, it was time.

A deep breath, and a turn to face the hallway leading to the cockpit, Connel pulled the activator. The rush of air through the chamber pulled the cloth chute out of his HALO pack and out the back of the Raven, yanking him out of the ship and dropping into the water. He could only watch as the dropship was screaming at the coast only to be torn to shreds by cannonfire.

The rush and impact of the watch knocked the wind out of him, but it was expected and would not slow the shadow down, let alone stop him. There was a fight to be had here, and they may not be ready to claim the homeworld yet, but this was going to happen.

[Good Hunting, Brother! Show’em how it’s done.]

[First round is on me when we get back.] The Raven was remotely controlled, Connel was the only life form on it, the raid was happening, attempting to hide was a waste of time. However this move muddled any sensors that might pick him up with the ship screaming at the defenses. A stealth move with no stealth used.

The Raven's destruction served as a decoy, allowing Connel to slip away unnoticed. As the coastal defenses focused on the wreckage, he swam toward a hidden position, confident his ruse bought him time to regroup and plan his next move in the ongoing operation.

Connel was boots to the ground.

A Vanagor would watch over this world again.

@Arris Windrum • Acier Moonbound • Dynamis "Dynas" Ultra
Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Jalen Kai'el]

Tython, Objective I
Tags: Lysander von Ascania

Delta-7, Lothal Jedi Temple​

These are Spears of Ashla - each one has been imbued with the Light side of the Force. They are tools that can be used to help combat the darkness. Everyone here will receive one before we land.

Jalen thought back to the words Cora had said to describe the strange devise that now lay in his hands. As the halls of the station went dark, the Jedi Knight walked unbothered by the decreased visibility. The Force saw for him, and as such he felt all that he needed to. Sabotage wasn't his specialty, but Jalen went along anyways, mostly to be of use to the wounded. The Jedi Outcasts had named him their primary healer. While this was a multi-creed operation, this marked the first real mission they would embark on. The Grafted into Stone had at least proven valuable in catching the Sith unawares.

That wouldn't last, though. He could feel the swarming of the darkness like enraged ants preparing to defend their nest. If they wanted to crippled the station they would have to move fast. Jalen, of course, would move quickly along with them to tend to injuries as best he could.

And yet... he was pulled away from the pack.

Unseen hands guided Jalen away from the others, deeper into the darkness. A presence drew him in, a fate unavoidable. Designs greater than himself that made it clear he had work to do. Jalen didn't like those feelings. They often lead to something that left him emotionally exhausted. That toxin he had taken in back on Ukatis still lingered heavily on his mind. It didn't matter, he told himself as he moved with purpose.

Someone was waiting, even if they didn't know it. He would not keep them.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Deep Core
Tython
Overseeing Acolyte Anet Raine
Will Be Engaging: Ko Vuto & Valor the Forsaken
Gear (Armor is not donned)​

Having taken the time to meet with Anet one on one in order to assess the young woman’s current skill and power level, A’Mia was more than a little annoyed at the alarm going up regarding incursion on Tython. Soon though, the neti recognized a blessing in disguise. The pair made haste to defense of Covenant territory.

There wasn’t time for her to go through the ceremony of donning her armor but she’d started keeping it with her after discovering the haunted item could be contained within one of her Ferrus spheres.

“This will be a better test than any careful mission or sterile classroom experience. Today I’ll be able to observe how you handle the stresses of an unplanned conflict,” A’Mia lectured as they exited the ship, “I trust you understand what might be at stake, depending upon who or what is bringing forces to bear. I’ll not step in to protect foolishness, so I expect your best. Only your best will earn my favor.”

The woman’s tone was more clipped and severe than usual, but her expression was as serene as ever. A mask of nymph like beauty that hid the eldritch horror which lived beneath. She wore nothing but simple robes, currently had no visible weapons to bear and looked more at place in a classroom than a possible battlefield.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

THEME

OBJ: 1

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace

Prior to the fight:​

Operations had ran smoothly upon the fueling station above Tython. It’s objective was clear as was its importance the life blood of many ships pledged to the Covenant and to the Sith.

An instant investigation was launched into the fueling station when it had fallen dark. This was no power failure, such an important piece of equipment would have backup power to run until the issue was fixed. A shuttle was sent to the fueling station housing a Nagai force along with their commanding officer, Varin Mortifer and his battle brother, Lysander von Ascania

As the ship closed the distance towards the fueling station Varin remained silent, head bowed and running his thumb over his prayer beads. A habit he developed for himself as a pre-battle meditation as the shuttle bounced and vibrated from the turbulence. Lights within the cab flickered as the Nagai troops prepared their weapons, final checks, sharpenings of blade and finishing touches.

Varin looked at the helm in his hand, the red visor reflected the very history of his moments with the Sith. Battles, conquests, thrones toppled and the very faces of those he had slain. He remembered every one of them. He looked over to Lysander as the ship came to a slow land.

“This is certainly not a routine wellness check.”

His voice was low and deep as he stood up, the Nagai troops stood up ready to exit the shuttle as the ramp began to drop.

“I can feel that. Very intentional, calculated.”

The Nagai troops stepped off the shuttle entering formation of a half circle to cover different angles.

Varin reached to the bench grabbing his blade and hooking the sheath to his belt, the heavy mace holstered onto his back as his armor hummed to life lighting up edges of the armor like molten cracks beneath the ground.

His eye flared as he looked out the ramp, his gaze slowly looking in wide arcs.

“Do be careful out there, brother. This seems different than our usual excursions.”

He looked back at Lysander clasping his hand over his shoulder.

“Feel free to take some of my troops if you need it.”

He smirked before placing his helm over his head, the interlocking tubes and mechanisms hissing as they latched the helmet on, the red visor lighting up to life.

“They do love a good fight, and I know you would show them where one would be.”

Present to the fight:​

Varin sent his troops out to scout the many halls and corridors of the immediate vicinity, very capable fighters that he knew could handle themselves and loyal to the end. He kept one warrior with him to help watch his back, a blaster rifle in his hands and a smaller Sith blade on his hip.

Varin stepped towards the doors of the fueling station as the hydraulics refused to open due to lack of power.

“We can probably cut through it sir, it would take time.”

Varin held up his hand dismissing the tactic.

“Just watch my back for now. I have another plan.”

Varin held out his hand as the air vibrated around him. The use of his fire had to be maintained and controlled more so than he was used to, his explosive nature would not mix well with the structure especially when near the tanks and pumps.

Heat generated within his palm, condensed and intensified as he placed it on the door.

What started off as a small orange spot gradually grew as the metal started to burn and melts into a small hole. Varin placed his other hand within the melting hole, heating the metal further as he began to pry the door open, the force amplifying his body’s strength as he grunted and breathed.

The door creaked and groaned before it cracked.

A massive crack that forced the integrity of the door to give, breaking open like a split down the middle.

He stepped in first as his eyes looked around the immediate area, reaching out with the force to detect any presence. The darkness of the room made it difficult to see, but he managed.

He could make out the layout. A small reception desk, some chairs and a couple of smaller hydraulic doors that were inconsequential. Varin lifted his hand to one of the smaller doors and flexed his fingers. The door creaked and crumpled as the force pressed down upon its surface. He could feel a presence nearby.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

 

[Sven Halestorm]

Delvin jeth​

His feet hit the rocky outcropping just beyond the temple walls, and all Sven could do was study the movements of those around, Sith moving and relocating countless boxes and relics that the Jedi had gathered over the centuries they had been on the planet of Tython.

Without warning, he was roused from his monitoring by a shuffling of movement, a message relayed across the temple grounds as the mood shifted to high alert.

Feth, they started early.

He rose from where he had been lying on the cold rock and shook out all the drearyiness his muscles still held before jumping down the cliff, staying on the far side so his movements wouldn't be caught by any onlookers as he made his way towards the rear of the temple.

Even from where he was, he could feel the shift in the emotions within the temple, from slight annoyance to unveiled rage.

Lucky for him, he remembered a unsued entrance to the temple from his days wandering between different temples across the galaxy.

Sven walked towards the rear of the temple, his hand placed against the stone as he felt for a notched rock.

His nails found purchase, and he pulled, the stone sliding as he moved down the unlit path, his eyes adjusting to the darkness as he slid forward, the opening just wide enough for a man to walk.

As he came to the exit of the pathway, he reached his senses out into the next room, feeling for anything out of the ordinary before he pressed against the stone, sliding the panel to the side as he slipped into the room unnoticed.

Sven moved to push the panel back into place as he heard the door slide open behind him, his eyes glancing to his rear as a soldier made to walk into the room.

Thinking quickly, he pulled the man towards him, the door shutting behind the trooper before Sven smashed him over the head with the pannel, the trooper falling unconscious at Sven's feet.

Well, that was too close for comfort.​

 

[Eurydice]

Opps: Diogo

Tython was nice compared to Anoat or Coruscant. Less chaotic. Less busy. Less overtly terrifying. By all rights, Eurydice should’ve felt more comfortable here.

So why didn’t she? Had she been so thoroughly entrenched in the dark that anything but the familiar nightmare made her feel uncomfortable? It was an unsettling thought, that she'd grown so used to her own fear that it was now becoming her ally.

At least the task she’d been given was a quiet one. Sorting Jedi holocrons was about as benign as assignments among the Sith went, and Eurydice was eager to make herself useful.

Useful things weren’t cast aside.

A mechanical arm slid the lid of another crate closed. Eurydice marked a few things down on her datapad as she lingered behind the hoversled bound for the cargo bay. The holocrons had been retrieved from the temple and sorted at a nearby warehouse. Now, they’d soon be en route to their final destination.

Eurydice sighed. It was a soft, minuscule sound of relief. The Covenent had just absorbed over twenty worlds into its territory, and was working fast to bring them all to heel.

At least she hadn’t been assigned to deal with the imperial remnants. Administrative tasks suited her just fine.

 

[Teev]

| Location | Tython​

| Objective | Dawdle​

​

The small Jawa held a Jedi holocron in one hand, its light blue glow radiating in their gloved palm as they turned it over in their hand. "Foooo..." they murmured softly, as if intrigued by the device. Nobody quite knew why or how the Jawa ended up on Tython, just that they were. A couple of underlings from the Sith Covenant rounded the corner, doing a quick security sweep as they were muttering amongst themselves. One spotted Teev as they shouted, "Oi, what are you doing here with that?". The two of them approached the diminutive Jawa without any sort of care or caution. After all, it was just a simple Jawa, what possible harm could happen?​

​

They came within half a Teev's distance as one reached for the Jawa's cap. A mistake, and a costly one at that. The Staff of Complete and Utter Annihilation was briskly swung with one hand as the gnarled end of it struck the offender in the knee. "Hey what the kar-!" He immediately fell over, screaming in agonizing pain as the end struck them in the knee. His companion immediately fumbled for their blaster to take aim at Teev. By the time they unholstered and aimed their weapon, Teev was extending their arm out, offering the holocron to the one that remained. "Foosheeegee, fooshoo, foogee." ​

​

The one underling still standing was hesitant, unsure of what the Jawa was saying. Instinct told him that the Jawa was on their side. He cautiously reached out and took the holocron from the Jawa as Teev turned to dawdle off, seeing what else might catch his interest as they left the two Covenant underlings confused and rethinking everything they knew.​

​

[ Open ]

 

[Delvin jeth]

Sven Halestorm

Delvin had sent one of the troopers to check an uninteresting room as he wanted to be thorough about the investigation into the this temple. He was probably one of the few darksiders interested in hedi history and teaching to know something completely one must understand their thought processes he held two jedi holocrons.

He knew the covenant wouldn't miss ones he had found that where hidden and a sith holocron aswell as he stored them in his coat pockets a aurodium plated lightsaber hung at his side he noticed the soldiers extended leave without reporting in delvin made his way towards the troopers location. He sensed the trooper wasn't alone as he sped up his pace Towards the room as his arkanian eyes scanned for heat signatures his curved hilt aurodium plated light saber in his hand.

 

[0-7]

Tython, Objective II
Tags: Teev

NK-Witell-class Freighter, 0A-155, Songbird (lightsaber), Vibrosword
​

Seven did not typically make it a habit of allying herself with others for larger operations. Her newfound respect for Braze had, at the very least, made her aware of an upcoming raid on Tython, something his friends that he called 'Jedi Outcasts' were to participate in. Something far into the reaches if Sith territory was typically difficult for her to navigate alone. She could aid... at least if not to see a few more dangerous artifacts removed from dark hands.

The temple on the planet was still bathed in light. It put her on edge. Seven had only just begun to suffer from the effects of no longer being under the thumb of the darkside. That came with withdrawals. Lord Kalrath had used his power to suppress her own. Because of this being in the light hurt to some degree.

He immediately fell over, screaming in agonizing pain as the end struck them in the knee.

Clearly not as much pain as someone else was experiencing, however. Using illusions to cloak herself, Seven slipped through the Temple along the shadows of the walls to the source of the noise. One man writhed on the floor in pain, while the other stood with a blank expression, Jedi Holocron held in their hands. She hadn't arrived in time to see what had even happened to them. So, naturally, she jumped to her usual first tactic: Interrogation.

Seven emerged from her illusionary shroud behind the Sith Covenant peon holding the holocron, drawing her vibrosword and raising it to the man's throat. She spoke in a cold, despondent manner.

"What did that to your friend," she ordered the soldier to answer. "Tell me where it went."

A no-doubt dangerous artifact had caused that kind of agony. Seven needed to see that it was removed.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Tython
Fueling Station
@Open - Maybe- Zaiya Ceti​

Above Tython, the fueling station hung in orbit like a bruised crown, all armored plating and exposed service trusses, with its running lights gone and its silhouette reduced to a cold, predatory outline. Aiden Porte watched it from the viewport of the insertion craft, feeling the unnatural absence of power as a pressure in the Force, like the station was holding its breath before it screamed.

His strike team sat strapped in along the hull, gear secured, helmets clipped, hands quiet. They were not a parade unit, Republic Troopers led by Jedi of the order. The Covenant had chosen this platform for a reason, because fuel was leverage and leverage became war.

Aiden let his senses sweep outward, past the craft, past the station's dead lights, searching for lives moving in the dark. He found them in fragments.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Equipment: Revolvers | Jacket
Direct: Acier Moonbound
Indirect: Connel Vanagor | Dynamis "Dynas" Ultra

TYTHON - JEDI TEMPLE // OUTSKIRTS

"Well shit."

Arris dragged what was left of her cigarette and tossed the roach near where Ace stood.

Soldiers and acolytes ran throughout the compound to secure the location against an impending attack. However, Arris Windrun and her apprentice, Acier Moonbound, were slacking off just outside the Temple. Or at least she was, and he had little choice but to get dragged along.

"Sounds like there's trouble," she said. "Station in orbit went dark." The news just came in on her implanted comlink.

The cyborg sighed and looked up towards the stormy sky. Several starships broke cloud cover and made their fast approach towards the Temple. Judging by their unfamiliar design and rapid descent, these weren't friends of theirs. Moments later, ground-based cannon fire peppered the sky, and starfighters scrambled for intercept.

For a moment, Arris swore she saw an object - maybe a person - depart the rear of a dropship moments before anti-air fire tore it to pieces. Whatever it was, it went down somewhere off the shoreline. Maybe her targeting co-processor triangulated it in error. Wouldn't be the first time.

"Did you see that?" Arris looked at Ace for confirmation.

She seemed wholly unconcerned by the sudden shift in pace. What was supposed to be a routine mission now turned into an all-out assault on their little operation on the ancient Jedi world.

 

[Connel Vanagor]

Get the Frell off our home!
Tython
Undisclosed Location

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  "Enterprise" Station Ship
  Null Vector
  Speederbike
  Iron Psalm
  Gear/Armor
  Gear(“Bodycam” Datapad, UAD Drone, link to Seraphim AI and Nanotech included)
  Lightblaster
  Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
  Throwing Lightknives
  Force Blinding Flashbangs
  RI-17 Rifle-w-MS-0412 Grenade Launcher
  Spears of Ashla
  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 Raven is still being torn apart in a blossom of fire and molten debris, even when lying in repose in the ocean. The Sith Covenant cheer over open comms. They think they’ve won something.

He feels it. No anger. No emotion. Judgment. The New Jedi Order had named Caltin Vanagor Warden of Tython before the Galactic Empire turned the sky into fire.

This isn’t about legacy.

It’s about unfinished watch.

Connel sunk into the water. Not fast. Controlled. The Force steadied the descent as shrapnel rained into the sea around him. He had already cut the remaining rigging, activated the rebreather, and angled toward the cliff base.

The batteries continue firing at the burning wreckage, unaware the payload was already delivered.

He reached the rocks. Magnetic grips engaged. He climbed. Not like a Jedi. Like something that hunts. Above, the trench line is alive with motion.

“Target down! Confirmed impact!”

“Scan for secondary contacts!”

Portable shield generator humming. Two E-Webs covering the beach approach. Eight troopers on rotation. Another eight near the AA platform controls. Twenty-four. He waited for the rhythm.

One trooper laughed over comms.

That one dies first.

A lightknife arced silently from below the ridge. Permafrost energy hissed once. The trooper dropped without a word. The nearest soldier turned. Too late. Connel crested the lip of the cliff in one smooth motion, “Night” snapping into his left arm, blaster already in his right. Two controlled shots. Helmets cracked. He moved before they hit the ground. An E-Web gunner swung toward him. Heavy repeater spooling up.

Connel didn’t deflect.

He collapsed the tripod with a Force pull, yanking the weapon sideways as it fired. The gun chewed through its own shield generator. Sparks erupted. The barrier flickered out. Now they saw him. Now they understood.

“Shadow on the ridge! Shadow—”

He was already inside their formation.

The blaster disappeared. “Night” ignited in a snap-hiss of electric indigo. Short blade. Close work. One trooper lunged. Connel pivoted. Elbow strike. Blade through the chest seam. Kick to the knee of the next. gauntlet slam to the helmet. Bone gives before metal does.

A thermal charge landed at the base of the anti-air battery. He rolled clear. The explosion was surgical. The cannon collapsed inward, barrel folding like a broken finger. The second battery tried to track him. He launched. Force-assisted sprint across open ground. A leap that carried him over suppressive fire. Lightblaster holstered, “Day” ignited midair, Sovereign cracking white along its edge.

He landed on the housing of the second AA platform.

The operator looked up. For a heartbeat, they lock eyes through glass. Connel drove the blade straight down into the control assembly. The cannon died screaming.

Silence fell in ragged pieces.

Smoke drifted over the cliffs.

He stood amid wreckage, ocean wind tearing at his mantle. Boots to stone and water. Wind tearing at the sleeveless shadow mantle. A Vanagor watches this world again. Not from a title. From the shadows. And somewhere inland, alarms begin to sound. Because the coastal defenses just went dark. The Ariel armor hummed softly as systems cycle from aquatic insertion to combat posture. The “Bodycam” datapad syncs automatically.
UAD drone deploys.
A silent disc no larger than a dinner plate slips from his back housing and lifts into the night, optics dark, relaying terrain mapping to Seraphim.

Link stable. Coastal grid compromised. 
Secondary patrols mobilizing from inland bunker.

Good.

Connel rolled his shoulder once and unclipped the RI-17 rifle. He did not ignite a blade yet, they were back in their clips. It was time to become a marksman. Two troopers sprinted from the trench toward the second AA position, confused by the loss of feed.

The rifle coughed once.

An MS-0412 grenade arced clean and low.

It detonated behind them, concussive force slamming both into the cliff wall. Not vaporized. Neutralized. Ariel is not here for theatrics. He is here for effect. The surviving squad formed up near the portable shield generator, bracing for an assault from the beach.

Wrong direction.

Connel vaulted over the destroyed AA chassis and landed inside their perimeter like a falling thought.

Lightblaster cleared leather in one fluid draw.

Three shots. Three down.

A heavy repeater begins to spool. He pulled Night. Indigo ignites. He moved through suppressive fire instead of deflecting it, blade angling just enough to redirect lethal trajectories while he closed distance. A Special Forces Operator would call it controlled aggression. A Jedi would call it trust in the Force.

He called it necessary.

The E-Web gunner screamed as the tripod was kicked sideways. Night flashed once. Silence. Then the air shifted. The cliff above what was once the Master’s Retreat pulsed. Dark residue. Saturation levels higher inland.

He felt it.

Not ancient tomb corruption.

Recent. Intentional.

Connel holstered the rifle and reached to the sling across his back. He withdrew a Spear of Ashla. Small. Unassuming. Songsteel reflecting moonlight. He drove it into the shattered housing of the AA cannon. The effect was immediate. A subtle harmonic pulse moved outward like ripples across still water. The faint oily residue clinging to the weapon systems hissed and receded, like frost retreating from sunlight.

The Spear hummed.

The cliff breathed.

The darkness there does not vanish. But it weakened. He placed a second spear near the trench line where Sith rituals were etched into stone. This one resisted. The ground vibrated. The Spear glowed brighter, forcing back the stain inch by inch.

Connel closed his eyes for half a second and centered.

Not rage.

Not vengeance.

Alignment.

The Light pushed outward from him, reinforcing the spike’s work. The cliff steadied. Incoming fire from the inland bunker. Heavy caliber. He dropped, rolled, flashbang already in hand. Force-blinding detonation. The explosion was not merely light. It was disorientation in the Force itself. Troopers staggered, connection disrupted.

He rose through the fading brilliance like something stepping through dawn.

Day ignited now.

Sovereign Gold.

Two strokes. One pivot. Gauntlet slam. Blaster snap shot. Four more bodies hit stone. The UAD pinged.

Thermal cluster moving from the Retreat courtyard.
Estimated response time: ninety seconds.

Connel retrieved one of the spent Spears and clipped it back to his harness. It will need Light to recharge. He looked inland. The Master’s Retreat sat half-shadowed against the horizon, desecrated banners hanging where once there were wind chimes.

His father had stood watch here.

Tonight, so does he.

The coastal guns are silent. The beach is open. The Covenant does not yet understand what that means. He toggled comms to a narrowband whisper.

[Coastal grid clear.]

A pause.

Then, quieter.

For you, Dad.

And he moved inland before the response force even realized the cliff line had already fallen.

@Arris Windrum • Acier Moonbound • Dynamis "Dynas" Ultra
Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Anet Raine]

TYTHON
Equipment: Acolyte Robes (no helmet) | Mask | Lightsaber
Direct: Madrona A’Mia
Indirect: Ko Vuto | Valor the Forsaken

Anet took a deep breath.

The neti stepped in front of and departed the ship before her. She looked down at the mask in her hand, the mask forged in the dark vergence of Coruscant's Sith Temple. Alchemized and woven within the leather and metal was more than mere sorcery. It was her power, and her intent.

The acolyte brought the mask to her face. It latched unnaturally to her flesh, as if a beast eager to suffocate her. In that moment, the Dark Side swelled inside her.

She stepped after A'Mia.

“I trust you understand what might be at stake, depending upon who or what is bringing forces to bear. I’ll not step in to protect foolishness, so I expect your best. Only your best will earn my favor.”

"My understanding is never in question." Arrogance frothed in her tone.

She followed the willowy seer like a retainer after her lord. There was pride in her step. The well-cut cloth of her robes rippled gently against the salty ocean breeze.

The half-pantoran was no warrior, but she had killed before, and was prepared to do so now if it came to it. What she did wonder, however, was who these intruders were. With so many Force users in their presence, it was difficult to distinguish the enemy as Jedi. She needed to work on her senses.

 

[Diogo]

Eurydice​

On Tython, Diogo could hear the cries of Tapani.

The sector's massacre created a lingering disturbance, an ethereal wound, a weeping dirge. The ancient Force energies of this planet had strengthened his senses, and given him painfully detailed access to it.

The perpetrators were those who now occupied Tython: The Sith Convenant, a merciless horde of marauding Sith and génocidaires who'd carved a bloody path across the core, and now stood within the ruins of much greater civilizations. Still consolidating control over their newly acquired territories, it was the opportune moment for the Jedi contingent to attack, to strike while the ferrocrete was hot.

Diogo relished it. It was a small operation, yes, but vengeance was vengeance.

Diogo steeled his resolve and finished cutting into the wall of the landing pad's auxiliary power station, where an access tunnel granted an alternative entrance into the guts of a hangar bay. His work complete, Diogo carefully removed the excised slab and slipped inside.

He strode down the tunnel - lightsaber in hand - and came upon an active scene of crates, hoversleds, mechanical arms, and a diminutive young woman, datapad in hand, overseeing the operation. Relegated to administrative duties, the girl probably wasn't much to sneeze at. Certainly didn't look it.

Slipping between crates for cover, Diogo prowled closer and waited for a murderous opening, the cries of Tapani still seeping through him.