Skirmish THE BANNERLESS | Jedi Raid of TSC Held Tython

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Bastila Sal-Soren //:
//: Attire //:

The question was innocent enough. Quinn, while surprised Bastila was here, she shouldn't be. The woman was a Jedi; she was part of a lineage like her own. When you were part of these families, these legacies, you didn't stray from the path. If you did, you risked everything, and nothing ever felt worth enough to throw it all away.

Still, Quinn hoped.

Such a disgusting feeling for a Sith.

Quinn's eyes moved between the woman; she allowed herself just a moment of indulgence, then looked towards the satchel. Like the others, it seemed Bastila was here to obtain the lost information that was abandoned when the Alliance left. A pity.

"If you wish for technicalities, this is Sith space — just not Sith Order space." Quinn gave a small laugh as she sighed softly. Technicalities were something that the galaxy often found amusing, lumping things together just because. She shrugged softly, shaking her head again as Bastila spoke.

"The Force works in mysterious ways," another laugh as they could both see the irony in the comment. "Isn't that something old Jedi teach? In a way to explain the unexpected or the unexplainable?"

The Jedi had always interested Quinn; her parents had once been among their ranks until they had both seen the hidden corruption of their orders. Ashin had been akin to a shadow, sent to discover the dark side artifacts that fueled the Sith of her day. Unfortunately, she had become poisoned, cut off from the light, and abandoned by the Jedi. Spencer, the woman who had carried her, had been easily tossed aside by the Jedi — seen to be too difficult by the era's grandmaster.

Would things have been different if they had an order like the High Republic?

A bit of surprise softened her features as she looked back at the Jedi. Reading had been her favorite pastime; it was the only way the youngest Varanin could escape the four walls of her forced prison. There, she could pretend to touch fields of flowers in the deep valleys of Naboo, she could enjoy the bright twin suns on Tatooine, or feel the waves crashing against a boat on Manaan. Every adventure could be experienced without harming someone else. Though she wouldn't reveal it all, just enough for Bastila to know her more.

"I love reading." She spoke quietly, "When I read… I don't have to be me, I don't have to be where I am — I get to pretend to be something or somewhere else." Small and subtle, but it didn't explain what she was doing here, nor what she was looking for.

"I'm here because I'm looking for answers." Quinn didn't indulge further as Bastila reached for the tome, one that she hadn't quite finished. Just as quickly, Quinn reached out and placed her hands upon Bastila's. There was no pressure or pain; it was only just a touch — if the younger woman wanted to pull away, she could, but Quinn hoped she didn't.

"I'm not finished with that one… I unfortunately can't let you take it just yet — even if I'm as fond of you as I am." She stepped forward, her hand moving from the back of Bastila's palm to her wrist and forearm. The Echani's touch was light as she remained close — no one here could see them… they didn't need to perform for their handlers.

"I am curious, which of you is with me?" Her words, her breath caressing the curve of Bastila's ear — a cheek brushing lightly, touch needed for Quinn to understand.

"Am I with Bastila the Jedi, the good daughter of the Republic…" She paused, letting her words linger just momentarily, "Or am I with the Bastila the woman that wanted to kiss me, just as badly as I wanted her to."

Quinn smiled, her red lips contrasting against her porcelain skin.

"I want you to show me…"

 

[Diogo]

Eurydice​

The songsteel spike plunged into the girl's midsection and Diogo's proboscises wiggled excitedly in their sockets, disgusting, horrible, and utterly ravenous, threatening to escape from their prison to finish the job.

He let go of the stave and took a step back. Eyes swirled to molten gold again, narrowing their scintillating heat on the intricately carved runes of the holocron. Deliberately avoiding contact with the girl.

Her gaze was some distant thing - watery blue eyes that lapped against his shores, only to be dashed upon the steady rock of his ribcage. As were her sniveling cries of pain. A siren song, he'd found some way to convince himself.

"You're a Sith, dear," Diogo answered coolly. "You deserve far worse."

Doubt crept along the edges of him, but were defiantly brushed aside. She's a Sith, she's a Sith, she's a Sith. Justice was necessity. The mission required success. Compassion had no place here.

Then, a familiar tug of his attention. That ethereal sense of danger that prickled his skin, and danced along the immutable borders of time and linearity.

Diogo spun on his heel, too little too late, and was met with... beak and claw?

Where the fething feather feth-

He staggered back, swatting at the slick black raven with the holocron in his hand, already feeling the warm sticky blood running down his face from where the bird gauged his flesh.

Proboscises autonomically ruptured from his cheeks, snatching viciously at the air, and he involuntarily fell backwards.

 

[Lily Rhodes]

Tags: Romi Jade​

The woman who stepped into the low light of the junction was older, composed in a way Lily could only ever hope to be in a place like this. As another shockwave rumbled beneath their feet, Lily tilted her head, extending her sense and listening for any incoming traffic. For the moment, they were alone and unimpeded.

Her attention shifted back to the woman as she continued in a low voice, explaining the more valuable prize was beneath the control centre. Lily chewed the inside of her lip, the same way she always did when she was thinking hard or she was nervous.

Her fingers shifted the weight of the quarterstaff before she replied, following the brief flick of attention to the darker service tunnels. “I will take uncontested and valuable over contested and less so any day of the week.”

The fact that this woman shared this information meant she was willing to work together. “Two sets of hands are better than one. Lead the way.” She stepped forward.

“I’m Lily.”

 

[Teev]

| Location | Tython​

| Objective | Dawdle​

​

Teev continued to tilt their head in a puzzled fashion. The individual before him was jabbering about something incoherent to the Jawa, and even stranger, gesturing to them in hand signs, some of which appeared to be offensive. Teev looked from the individual to the stick that they held, clutching it in both hands and drawing it away from 0-7 as if to say 'hands off'. Whatever they were jabbering about, Teev did not like or appreciate their tone. ​

​

The Jawa began to speak once more, "Foooshi, foogooee..." as it pointed its stick at the woman, waving it around haphazardly as if to paint something in the air. The room began to get noticeably colder as the moisture in the air condensed and froze, large chunks of ice forming out of thin air above the woman as they raised their stick high in the air. ​

​

"Fushigi." Teev said in a serious tone as they swiped downward with the staff. Snowball-sized chunks of ice dropped down toward the assassin. They were deceptively dense given their size, and if the woman wasn't careful, she'd find herself turned into a snowman if touched by one.​

​

[ 0-7 ]

 

[Mykel Dawson]

___________________________________________________________________

Objective: Sabotage Military Fuel Station
Allies: Jedi
Opposition: Sith
With: Akela Ru
Direct Opposition: OPEN

The little Jedi was quick on her feet, dodging the redirected candy bomb and landing lightly before drawing a lightsaber of her own. The pink blade was so close to red, yet looked utterly ridiculous. It was as if every aspect of this hellchild existed solely to mock him.

"You know you shoe is untied."

"And your diseased black gums keep flapping," he snarled as he lunged for her.

Making note of her Djem So stance, he attacked accordingly, delivering an easy, telegraphed downward slash that arced toward her weapon-side shoulder. He moved like a madman, and his opening strike radiated with the same manic energy. Everything about it meant to sell the image of a Sith out of control to the juvenile trickster standing before him.

Meanwhile, the first Sith Warrior that had been downed by Akela's pounce began to lurch back to his feet, determined to help his dark brother bring down the Togruta and claim his pound of flesh. But just as he steadied himself upright, he abruptly toppled over again as his neck snapped violently to the side.

Slicing through the haze of glitter and carbon smoke, a single resin coated durasteel ball bearing had just punctured the side of his helmet at its weakest point, turning his brain to grey slurry as it ricocheted inside his skull.

A shadow flitted through the carnage, silently sniping at the Sith with a whisper quiet coilgun to whittle down their numbers and to protect Akela.

 

[Lohī]

Tython, Objective II
Tags: Lestra Thairk

Paperfolk​

Could try something electrical...But if it's an electrical pulse, that could trigger them to go off...

"Not necessarily," Lohī interjected. "Electricity offered in the right frequency is more likely than not going to short technology. Think of the high voltage of lightning in a thunderstorm. When that energy is released, it also brings with it an electromagnetic field. No detonations if the insides have been fried, yes?"

The natural world was truly an impressive thing. Of course Lohī would be interested in such things. She was, after all, born from nature. In a weird way, of course, but born from it nonetheless. She would offer a supportive smile to the padawan.

"Why don't you give it a try," she suggested. "I will be here to offer my assistance should you need it."

 

[0-7]

Tython, Objective II
Tags: Teev

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

Snowball-sized chunks of ice dropped down toward the assassin. They were deceptively dense given their size, and if the woman wasn't careful, she'd find herself turned into a snowman if touched by one.

Seven let out a groan. It seemed negotiations were a lost cause. As the ice was conjured above her, the Evereni used the Force to pry tiles out of the floor and bring them up to shield herself. She had grown considerably stronger in the Force ever since she had been able to slip out of the grasp of her former Master. Lord Kalrath had seen fit to suppress her power and keep her weak. She likely would have never been able to do any of this while in his service. She did have to do a double take, though, when the tiles seemed to freeze over when the ice hit them.

The Jawa was a crafty opponent it seemed.

"Alright..." Seven muttered, drawing her vibrosword. "I guess we're doing this the hard way."

She cast the tiles aside and strode forward. For a moment, her physical visage vanished. She was making use of illusions once more. When she came into sight again, there were four of her, each one moving like a mirrored image as they began to circle the Jawa like sharks waiting to strike.

"Your move," they all echoed in unison.

 

[Lestra Thairk]

Tags: Lohī
Objective: 2

"I've...erh...never thought about the frequencies that they can go off in. They just go zap, and shock stuff...But hey, if this goes wrong, I'm saying you gave me permission."

And so with that, Lestra took out a few handful of gems, all tourmaline that he started to infuse with the Force. A slight glow starting to form inside each of the gems, almost bouncing around inside of the gems as if it was trying to escape. In a way, the Force was trying to escape from within them. Once he was sure they were sufficently "charged" for lack of a better term, Lestra gently placed the handful of gems around the grenades.

"We should...probably step outside just in case."

Lestra quickly stepped out of the armoury, taking out a simple emerald that he once again filled with the Force. He had to disturb the tourmaline somehow...so he tossed the emerald in, where it shattered on impact with the ground, before releasing the Force in the form of a sudden whirlwind that threw the tourmaline gems around the armoury, where on impact, the Force within them was released through crackles of electricity that bolted across the entire armoury.​

 

[Sethran Solivar]

Tython Space Station • Corazona von Ascania and Tamsin Starfall ​

---

All was not fair in war. That notion was morally bankrupt. However, only someone with a sense of morality would have the ability to understand that, and it was clear that this demon did not, given her boast of killing thousands. That was not something to be proud of. Killing was something that couldn't be done lightly. If it was, it destroyed the soul. He knew this, and had never, as yet, killed someone. It didn't matter the battlefield, he avoided killing as if it were the most evil thing in the galaxy. He liked his soul to remain intact and not fractured.

She came towards him, the power in her hand coalescing into an unseen menace. He didn't need to see it to tell that if it hit him, it would be the end of him. Unable to see it, or truly feel what it was, he was left with no choice but to react in a defensive manner. He drew upon the power within him and unleashed it in a burst of energy outward from his body, a wave, intent on throwing her back from whence she'd come. If she was going to resort to doing things he couldn't see, then he needed to keep her from being able to do things.

She had said the child whose body she inhabited was still alive within, he hesitated. The cruelest thing of all was stealing the body of another and making them watch the heinous things one did with it. Worst of all, it meant he couldn't do any physical harm to her that would cause permanent damage because it would mean he was harming the innocent child trapped within.

"You are a cruel beast," he said as he glowered. "To harm a child in such a manner is not something I can easily forgive."

He reached out towards the wall and rent metal from it, sending it towards her with the express intention of having it wrap about her. If he succeeded, the goal was to have it pin her arms at her side and make her unable to move them. A longshot, but still worth a shot to try and keep from harming the child.

---

 

[Akela Ru]

Mykel Dawson

His straike came at her and she remained there.... her smaller size letting him close the distance... her eyes narrowed as internally she was thinking only one mantra. 'Paatty cake... patty cake... bakers man.' Her blade moved to defend aas she was there with him. Crouching down lower and tighter with the blade to direct and deflect... her leg muscles coiling as she shot up. 'bake me a cake as fast as you can.' She used the flowing water cut, her blade staying upon the siths when she was going and used her jump to flip over him as she reached out with her hand. A quick movement as she went towards his face. "Ha I got your nose." Her flip remained as she was moving and touched down with another there. She slashed at his legs and spoke. "I'm the patty cake champion."

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Sevrin

"Does threatening old men in the dark make you feel strong?"

Despite his harsh retort the Jedi Master's tone remained frustratingly detached. Amiable even. Master Zark tilted his head in a curious gesture while taking in every detail. Battlefield training needed only a few seconds to determine the boy was dangerous and almost certainly armed.

"Maybe I haven't decided yet."

His hand remained poised but he did not pick up the blade. Instead the Jedi watched how his new acquaintance tested the light of his artifact. He couldn't tell if it was some kind of aversion or simple caution. Zark gestured toward the vault behind him.

"The symbols on the cartouche are very old. Protobesh. Carved into kyberite to prevent tampering. Would you like to know what they mean?"

He held the crystal out to illuminate the ancient carvings. False kyber was the stone that true kyber crystals grew from. It could shield telepathy and was probably the main reason this vault had yet to be uncovered by the latest Sith efforts.

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

Deep Core
Tython
Overseeing Acolyte Anet Raine
Engaging: Ko Vuto | Valor the Forsaken
Gear (Armor acting autonomously)
​

Her ruse pulled him in, it inspired warmth even. Something within the Jedi's bearing soon changed though, was that a spark of recognition? No matter, Anet was able to use the opening to strike an already wounded opponent.

Good.

The girl had better press her advantage. That strange artifice of armor and haunting automation wouldn't lift a finger to assist in offense, it had merely been instructed to provide defense. So the wraithlike thing moved eerily at Anet's back and would only act if she seemed she might fail to block a mortal blow.

For her part, A'Mia smiled in delight at being chided like a child — rich for an uninvited guest to cite manners. She was one to mince words for the fun of it, a spar in and of itself but first a familiar surge in the Weave as the man bolstered the plant life around her. Where A'Mia's throat had been, her hand rose while she ducked away and called fire to her palm In a violent burst.

After the events of the second invasion of Brosi, the woman had bowed before her Master Darth Caedes to request one last series of lessons: pyrokinesis. She'd hardened herself to the element after her entombment on Kashyyyk, grown herself in resilience to it so she took less damage from the biting power that so often claimed a life of its own once called upon. But she hadn't been skilled or strong enough to slake the hunger of the raging wildfires loose on Brosi when the Imperials had unleashed hell there. Grief and rage made her determined, A'Mia had channeled that and finally began practicing with the skill in earnest.

The neti, once trained at Echani fire-dancing in what seemed like a former life, now wielded the wicked heat with authority seized through the Force.

Twisting in a fluid motion, A'Mia worried not for the children and had only eyes for her direct opposition. A new pair of arms sprouted from beneath the woman's first and they were brandishing Phrik punch daggers. Dark energy began to spool about the blades and wispy threads seemed to unravel from about them. She looked more a spider than a tree, eyes and smile just as kindly as when first she called out to the "lost travelers" clearly in need of her aid.

"Pity you don't want my directions, seems now you've taken a turn toward the grave."

Without further adieu, A'Mia launched herself at the kel dor to take a series of whirling strikes aiming at his center mass. Primary arms still flickering with flames, ready to deflect or assault as needed.

 

[Anet Raine]

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

Anet grinned wildly as if under the influence of a stimulant. In a way, she was, but it was the rush of the Dark Side that fueled her. It felt good to hurt them, even if it wasn't personal.

But before she could enjoy her spoils for too long, vines suddenly descended upon her like serpents coiling around her throat. Reflexively, she managed to shove her arm in there as the vines yanked her up. Spared the strangulation, but she was still stuck. In her other hand, a Sith's lightsaber ignited. It hissed something hateful before carving effortlessly through the vines.

Within a matter of seconds, Anet rose and then fell back down onto one knee, lethal weapon in hand. Her eyes flicked up with anger, flashing orange under the shadow of her mask. They were locked on that boy she threw like a ragdoll.

“You know, most people start conversations with ‘hello.’...Throwing people into trees feels a bit excessive.”

"If you find that excessive, then the life of a Jedi must be boring." She returned lazily.

The acolyte decided to press the advantage, seeing as he wasn't moving to attack her yet. She threw her free hand forward and clenched, attempting to compress the air around him. Anet, admittedly, wasn't very good at this move yet. For a Sith Lord, this could crush an entire body. At Anet's level? She could merely stun or disorient her opponent. Of course, that was if her plan worked.

 

[Arris Windrun]

Connel Vanagor | Dynamis "Dynas" Ultra | Acier Moonbound

His presence in the force now was unmistakable, a beacon of light that poured from Connel's pouch.

Arris stopped up the path and looked back. Sensing the Force was never her strong suit, but this she noticed.

Then, she looked down at her apprentice. "Ace - if you aren't going to fight him like you fought me on Coruscant, then what's the point?" She capped it off with an annoyed shoulder shrug.

Her gaze flicked to his opponent. "And you, Jedi." She called out with an accusatory finger pointed right at him. "I don't know what you're getting up to, but it ends here."

In a flash, she drew her right-side revolver and flicked its accelerator on in a split second. The hybrid weapon fired hard metal slugs wrapped in a sheath of energy, placing it somewhere between a blaster and a slugthrower -- kinda like a Tusken rifle. She pulled the trigger, firing an accelerated round powerful enough to punch through durasteel. Her goal was to blast through the Jedi's right leg. Injuring, or at least distracting him, so that Ace could clutch his kill.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

The air screamed as the Sith's blade carved through the wall exactly where Brandyn's throat had been a millisecond prior. He didn't try to parry. His hilt stayed on his hip. He didn't try to be graceful. He simply collapsed, cutting his legs out from under himself to hit the durasteel floor hard on his stomach.

The follow-up Force blast roared overhead, slamming into the wall with enough pressure to make his ears pop. Brandyn felt the heat of the Sith's 'magma' armor radiating above him like an open furnace. He was cornered, but the Sith was looking for a target.

Reaching out with a desperate, singular flick of his will, Brandyn didn't target the Sith. He targeted the door's manual override.

As the doors hissed open behind Varin, Brandyn poured his remaining focus into a projection of his signature. He cast a "scent" away from him. He threw the weight of his Force presence, his fear, and his "signature" into the hallway beyond the door, making it feel as if a panicked Jedi was sprinting for the escape pods.

Brandyn held his actual breath and clamped down on his own presence, becoming as small and unmoving as a piece of discarded machinery among the shattered remains of the desk. He stayed flat against the ground, counting on the sweltering heat from the Sith's own pyrotechnics to wash out the room's thermal profile. To any sensor or predatory gaze, his body heat was now just a faint shadow lost in the massive infrared glare of the burning furniture. He waited, a ghost in a furnace, to see if the predator would take the bait and hunt the phantom 'signature' running down the hall.

| TAG: Brandyn Sal-Soren |

​

 

[Valor the Forsaken]

Ko Vuto Anet Raine Madrona A’Mia

Valor had often sparred with his older brother Braze, who made ruthless use of wind and fire fueled by the Force. Those hard lessons had taught him to keep a tight shell of awareness about himself, a steady anchor set deep in the current of the Force.

The pressure came suddenly, air tightening and compressing toward him like invisible hands closing in.

Valor drew in a slow breath and held it steady… and the Force answered.

Around him, the air bent. A faint sphere of shimmering distortion pressed outward from his body. The attack struck that boundary and scattered across it, sliding along the surface in rippling bands of light before bleeding into the night. Leaves and dust curled outward where pressure met resistance.

Valor remained upright, though his posture stiffened; movement came slower now, careful and deliberate as he maintained the barrier. The sphere wavered with each measured breath, its surface trembling like heated glass.

But the attack had done him one favor… now he knew exactly where she was.

His gaze lifted, sharp and aware, fixing on the masked acolyte through the dim light as he held the Force steady around himself. One hand slipped down and drew free the Spear of Ashla, pale metal catching what little light the night would give it.

He simply turned the spear once in his grip, settling into a guarded stance as the barrier thinned close to his frame, no longer a broad shell but a tight shimmer clinging near his body. His breathing stayed controlled, his expression hardening as he measured the distance between them.

The moment it cleared his side, pale songsteel kindled in his grasp. Light gathered fast along its length, soft at first… then sudden and fierce. White-gold radiance surged outward in a sweeping flood, pouring across the hillside and washing the dark in something clean and burning. Grass, stone, and drifting dust were caught in that holy brilliance; shadows recoiled, thinned, and broke apart beneath it.

“You know…” He drew sharp breath, jaw tight.
“One is tempted… to blame an unfortunate impact in infancy…”

His shoulders stiffened as he held the Force steady around himself, voice thinning for a moment before returning.

“Though I suspect… the damage runs deeper… and is rather more personal to you than that.”

Another breath....Slower this time.

“Just because your parents threw you at a wall as a babe… does not make this normal…”

His gaze did not leave her.

“Though I suppose… that distinction is beyond you…”
A faint wince crossed his face.
“In so unfortunate a condition.”

 

[Sevrin]

Zark San Tekka

"Does threatening old men in the dark make you feel strong?"

A pleased smile curled across his visage at the man's words, stirred by that same perverse little swell of ego that made his heart rate increase.

"Yes… it does."

The answer came without shame, nor hesitation. It was no secret that Severin rather liked the feeling of power... of strength, and of dominion and control. More than that, he enjoyed the comfort of knowing he held such a position, rather than being left to guess at what cards his opponent still kept hidden close to their chest.

He continued to lurk and prowl at the edge of the light, pausing only briefly to shift his gaze toward his own hand as he reached out, though beingg sure to keeping Zark clearly in his peripherals. Fingertips brushed into the perimeter of the glow, testing the queer sensation with idle, feline curiosity. The light did not burn him or cause any caustic effects. But he noted the current of the Force and how it shifted within.

"The symbols on the cartouche are very old. Protobesh. Carved into kyberite to prevent tampering. Would you like to know what they mean?"

He had not yet reached for any weapon on his person. His attention shifted fully then, and he came to a halt more than two arm's lengths away from the old man.

If this was meant as distraction, it was a clever enough ruse… and one the former pit-fighter slave fully expected. Nevertheless, the interest stirred by the man's words was genuine.

Severin could see little advantage in lying in this moment, but neither did he hold any great fear of the withered figure who offered conversation before violence... At least not whilst he continued tp speak. To answer candidly would cost him nothing.

"You are well educated… yes, I would love to know what they mean. As far as I understand, this is where the pretty baubles of the past are often kept sequestered...I have grown rather fond of collecting such pretty trinkets... I have great desire for more. "

He mused aloud, remaining surprisingly at ease, at least in appearance, while he addressed the old Jedi. Perhaps Severin understood that youth and vigor, set against age, cunning, and experience, would not lead to any swift victory… only a brutal battle of attrition, where patience could kill as surely as any blade.

If Zark truly was the cunning silver fox Severin expected him to be, it would be wise to remember that such creatures did not survive to so venerable an age by chance alone. He made no mistake of it; if Zark was a silver fox, then Severin had stepped in to his den.

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

Theme: Back From The Dead
OBJ: Station Sabotage
Equipment: Twin Omens | Multi-Tool | Stars Enchained | Mind Crown | Wrist Lanvarok
Tags: Corazona von Ascania | Sethran Solivar

Sethran Solivar​

As she charged forward and struck out a wave of force slammed into her. She forced against it as her speed slowed, fighting against the force trying so hard to push her back. Her orange eyes flared like burning suns as she let out a Maniac like scream.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" The spear reached out as she pushed hard as she could, nearly touching the Jedi, she could do it she knew it. She could beat it turn the Jedi's world to ashen rust. Her scream turned into a determined grimace, then a wicked little smirk and a wink as she let the wave take her. Her left hand letting go of spear but keeping a firm grip with her right hand on it as she let her arms fly out like wings of a bird.

She flew backwards down the corridor, and as she did her arms spread the spear in her right hand ripped through pipes and durasteel. Oil, water, and whatever other chemicals were in the various pipes spilled out like a gutted squid. Spilling out unto the floor and started flooding the corridor.

Her small frame slammed into a backwall finally coming to stop. As the innards of the station began to gush out onto the floor and seep into the cracks. She let out a cruel laugh as he called her a beast. "MWhahahaha!" The pain she felt in her body from the forceful slam into the wall that probably cracked some ribs was forced on the child with in.

Tamsin in the mind screamed in pain as the Demon made her feel every pin prick Torturing her. The little witch still laughing like a damn maniac took a step forward as the girl screamed at her begging her to stop. While laughing she grinned like a mad woman at the jedi.

"I don't want forgiveness child. I just want to watch worlds burn!" Her feet began to move faster as she built up another charging run. She trudged through the sloppy floor and as she did the liquid on the floor began to freeze the air growing very cold in the corridor. "I do….."

Shrapnel from the panel he ripped from the wall wrapped around her arms. She went flying back to the wall she had slammed into earlier. As she did a sharp Peirce pain shot up her spin which she sent directly to the girl inside making her feel the torture the jedi inflicted on her body. Tamsin howled in pain as the demon looked at the metal pinning her to the wall. The Demon's fire eyes died turning dark almost black. A panicked look crossed the face, as she tried to pull against the metal trapping the arms. Panic and scared then it looked back towards the jedi. "Help me…I beg you don't kill me?" Those dark eyes begging. "I didn't ask for this…" the air continued to grow colder, the floor became ice, and the walls began to form frost.

Corazona von Ascania

​

The apparition did not smile or even smirk as the Jedi went smashing into a wall of wipes freeing liquids and steam. The area began filling with smoke as the apparition the misted with its haze stalked forward. Watching as the Jedi scrambled to her feet, speaking out to Darth Nyto.

"I do not serve the psycho. I am a guardian of the Girl" Darth Nyto spoke calmly no emotion in her voice. Her slight violet glow was the only thing distinguishing her from the steam building all around them. "But Jedi, to protect her, I also have to protect the demon." Nyto didn't know how it worked exactly she hadn't worked that out yet. Though that was part of her orders given to her by Darth Anathemous . Yet the Demon and the girl seemed inseparable by the normal methods bound by some magick she did not understand.

She slowed her pace as she noticed the Jedi who had disengaged her saber moving towards her. As they got closer Cora would be able to make out more features of the human looking apparition. That violet glow all around her, the force flowing through her ghostly body.

"You know the one you called the witch, she made the girl in her image. The girl is not even fully aware of what she is capable of. The witch knows how to use that girl like a puppet in every way." As the jedi came closer and ignited the saber Nyto knew it was coming, it wasn't that hard to determine what the jedi was trying to figure out.

The Saber ignited and sliced right through Nyto's left arm and as it did the arm burst into a violent burst of energy that plunged forward towards the Jedi to try and knock her back. Nyto did not feel physical pain anymore but that was more detriment in her mind as energy burst out of the stump of a left arm. She could be harmed by the physical in a manner of speaking, but it was not without consequence. The force from her arm would crush walls and cause more pipes to burst. The force blast was quick though only lasting a few seconds.

She looked at her stump for a moment wishing she could fell the pain let it drive her forward and fuel her but alas she could not. She let out a heavy lamenting sigh. "She knows, she can reach someone close to you now." Nyto said referring to the fact the demon could smell there was a connection between this Jedi and Lysander von Ascania .

​

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

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

Before his eyes adjusted from the brightness from the flames around him and the explosive nature of the blast he pushed forward, the door behind him hissed open, a presence of fear in the air. Like a starving beast allured to a bleeding crying animal his gaze tore towards the opening.

Just beyond he watched as his Nagai soldier seemed to be tracking some unseen entity. A growl erupted from his chest reverberating from his mask. Like a torrent of rushing flames his body surged through the doorway, bursting from the opening as the frame warped around his body from the heat generating from him.

He felt the presence, but what he saw was something entirely different.

There was someone here. He knew it. The superheated tendrils from his back snaked along the floor around him, some entering into the prior room like flaming snakes searching for any hint of flesh to latch on to.

They slowly slithered around the remains of the desk, setting it ablaze as it snaked along the surface around the ball of ruined wood and durasteel, warping the metal and slithering closer to him like a stalking predator.

Within the other room Varin’s head snapped in to different directions as if a bestial pressence had taken over him. He sniffed the air and hunched his back as the smoldering cloak upon his back pulsed and flexed around him.

A deep low growl reverberated from his chest to the walls.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

 

[Kito]

//: Reina Daival //: Valaine Valentine (Mentioned) //:

Kito listened. She remained still and let Reina's betrayal pour from her lips.

Each word didn't make sense to the Padawan.

Betray the Sith… again?

How long had this been happening? When did everything fall apart? Kito's mind drifted to the gala, where they had sat as friends, shared food and stories. Has that much time passed?

She watched, Reina's words not matching her intentions. She didn't want to fight, yet drew her blade, did she doubt Kito?

The woman's only saving grace was her attachment to Valaine.

If she had stated she wanted to pass, Kito would have reluctantly done so… but even then, she wouldn't have been able to sleep easily. Hands tightened around the hilt of the Odachi; she could feel its power pulsing, the hunger to devour the life in front of her.

A life that had turned away from the light. Kito exhaled, almost on command from the former Jedi. The final words, the comparison showed an understanding that Kito took solace in. They were the same in this instance, if she hadn't stepped away — if the tables were turned.

"No, I can't let you walk away from here." The heated blade's flame burned white, the heat burning the air around her.

"I hope Valaine can forgive me after this…" Kito knew they were still friends and having Reina on the same side as the Sangnir meant there was someone to help keep her safe, even if Kito couldn't be there.

But the flippant nature of her loyalties sank deep into the Ronin. What if… the things Valaine said that night were true? They couldn't be together… the galaxy wouldn't accept it — which meant Reina was never going to understand it.

The thought fueled the Shaper as one last exhale, and in a bolt of flamed fury, the Padawan launched herself forward. Her tall stature remained low as the tip of the Odachi sparked against the ground at the force-fed speed at which she moved. Speed and precision were Kito's forte, and they wouldn't change now. If Reina were to be saved…

She would need to die… just like the others.

The blade swung forward, in an upward motion, aiming to bisect her fellow Ronin. Flame and heat followed as Kito stared almost into the soul of her enemy.

"I'm sorry, my friend…" Her words echoed quietly as the blade sang and burned through the air to strike.