Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Conflagration of New Holstice [TSE/SJO]

Eye of Solomon

Guest
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Fires rage across the galaxy, the wickedness of the Sith left unchecked in the wake of Operation: Eclipse. Civility and honorable rules of engagement have been forsaken as entire star systems find themselves waylaid by the Dark Side of the Force. The Sith make no distinction between enemy soldiers and innocent bystanders, destroying anything and anyone who dares to stand in their path.

One such conflagration breaks out on the Mid Rim world of New Holstice, a defenseless hospital world catering to the wounded of both sides in the galaxy-spanning conflict. The Sith Emperor has taken notice of New Holstice’s proclivity for aiding the wounded enemies of his Empire and has deemed the world a national threat to the security of the Sith.

An invasion force, strong enough to take a world, materializes above New Holstice. Apocalyptic fire rains down from orbit, scorching entire fields and sending firestorms ripping through forests. The cities of New Holstice are hit the hardest, suffering several agonizing minutes of indiscriminate bombardment before the guns of the Sith fleet go silent.

The way had been cleared, and now the sky filled with the sight of gunships and troop transports.
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He had been chosen to lead this assault.

The fingers on his right hand flexed unconsciously, a nervous tick he had possessed ever since he was a small child on Raxus Secundus. It was disconcerting to know that even though he had joined the Sith and risen above the wasteful opulence of his old life, there were still some things that were never truly snuffed out.

That thought brought his eyes to glare out of the cockpit of the Multiple Altitude Assault Gunship that was bearing him and his colleagues down towards the smoldering planet below. He could make out shapes in the smoke billowing up from the city’s main thoroughfare, shambling ghosts that hadn’t yet realized they died looking for loved ones or wandering in an abject haze.

Vermin,” he observed, “Pitiful little wretches.” In the interim, his nervous tick had abated, but now it returned as his mouth set in a haughty grimace. He would content himself with the fact that he could at the very least snuff out these pathetic mongrels in the name of his Emperor, an exceptionally holy charge indeed.

The gunship descended down where several other transports had made landfall inside the city, Legionnaires fanning out to establish a perimeter for the beachhead as the man slowly emerged from the ship.

Darth Novae looked around as if he had smelled something offensive, his nostrils flaring as a Major of the Legion approached him.

Your orders, milord?

We are here to deliver judgment, Major. The Emperor demands this world to be cleansed, wipe them out. All of them.
 
Yuroic had taken his time assisting in the hospital, though he was only allowed to provide medical aid to the Lightside to neutral injured, the Sith injured were kept very separate from other factions to reduce conflict and enforce the unbiased stance that New Holstice was taking in this war. At first there was several earthquake like shakes, Yuroic paused as he looked around and noticed several people getting panicked as the rumbling got more frequent and louder. It was clear that this was no earthquake, there was only one thing it could be. A bombardment. But who bombards a neutral hospital world, providing aid to both sides. Surely the Sith wouldn't endanger their own?.

Before Yuroic could consider anything more, the hospital was hit. The explosion was loud but Yuroic was lucky not to be directly near it. The devastation was still felt. Rubble falling all over the place. Screams of agony and cries for help filled the ruins of the hospital. When the final blast of the bombardment stopped, Yuroic knew he had survived. Survived was a stretch he did admit. He was trapped under a heavy piece of rubble. It would have been crushing him if his robotic arm wasn't holding it in place. However, his body was feeling the strain and couldn't keep the pressure. He knew he couldn't lift it all up. It was too heavy. He couldn't use his Lightsaber as the concrete would turn molten and burn him. He was stuck and he wasn't sure what to do.

Yuroic needed to stay calm. Focus on what he could do, not on what he couldn't. He was a Jedi Knight, he had the Force. He wasn't sure if he could lift something this heavy, but this could also be keeping something else from collapsing so breaking it would be risky. He needed to lift it and soon. He used the Force, pushing the large rubble up as he attempted to slide out underneath the rubble. However, he was stuck with a searing pain just above his left hip. A piece of rebar was poking out of his body. Yuroic gently set the concrete rubble back down. He was trapped and with a serious injury. The rebar was trapping him but he couldn't remove it without lifting the concrete. This was not the day he had planned. He had an idea but he was now getting nervous, he was starting to feel the concrete pressing on his chest. He needed to act fast.
 
Defenseless Hospice world?
Muse: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZJwRslmhe0
No such animal these days. We'll see how clear the way is.
SJO had constantly been under pressure all its existance. At least while one stubborn Epicanthix drew breath on its rim. The wildcards were always busy around SJO space, and always had been, logistics, engineering, medical work and setting up fortifications was their current focus and forte.

Location:
Alpha Site – Forward Regional Command Bunker. 40km from the primary invasion site
2 Miles Underground.
Stand Facility Shield Generator Status (Green) 100%
Basement Reserve Facility Shield Generator Status (Offline)
OS-PDS 100%
Base Structure 100%
Basic 5 Floor Layout, 2 Upper: Defensive | Defensive - 3 Underground: Medical Bay | Command Room | Generator Room

As always a kiss of the family holopicture before the battle [member="Elara Amadis"], bigger by two now. Then the rap of his boots on the floor, a slight limp in each step. “What’s the situation Commander?” The veteran Jedi Master looked grim, the scar down his cheek the mark of his last meeting with invading or hostile forces, and the limp he carried another one before that, many marks on his record and much experience facing off against similar Sith all his life. There wasn't much to this bunker offensively but it provided a place to coordinate from the front, also sadly a target, such was the nature of things.

Amadis was In full battlegear, and they were already coordinating the local fighter garrison for the invaders, ones that would be launching presently. He hoped one of the naval officers would pick air cover up, he already had enough on his plate without coordinating close air support and interceptors. Artillery and Force-Knows what. Scouts would be useful first to gather some intel too. A lot to do, in little time.

“Multiple Sith troops have landed, unsure of their focus or point of attack.” The 92nd Planetary Defense Force Commander was not exactly a prime candidate to coordinate facing off an entire Sith armada, maybe a Jedi would soon step up to the task! Who knows. Kei would be needed in the field, more than likely soon. He always was. "How many?"

"Unknown." A holomap appeared above the small gathering of commanders in their bunker, showing a basic outline of what little their scouting parties could determine at this early stage.

“We have had the Wildcards digging in ahead of them, getting the trenches and fortifications ready about 30km outside of the engagement zone to the west between them and the main bunker, as a rear fall back position.” The wildcards these days lived outside of the regular army, doing logistics, engineering, whatever was needed. Long veterans of these campaigns. Being present here at this time when many wounded needed tending to was no mere chance, it was sadly a necessity more and more for their role.

“The 92nd are currently about 5km ahead of the wildcards, forming into a primary front line.”
Amadis scratched his greying stubble, “tell them to hold till first contact, then filter back flanking around the rear lines, fighting withdrawl.” His usual opening if he was honest. Breathing out, “get those damn Houks in there, going to need them today.” Amadis breathed out again, letting the force work its way into him. It however did little for his grim expression, “they will be looking to lure us into an urban fight, where they can maximize casualties, any thoughts on neutralising it?”

"Artillery and Mines"

"Mines, how will that help?" Artillery on top of urban areas? That must be something new, but mines? Mines?

“Well.. you see….”

NPC Infantry Forces:
1,500 x 92nd Regulars, Planetary Defense Force Battalion. Standard Trooper Mooks, Pity them.
1,500 x Wildcard Veteran Special Forces, Ace of Spades Battalion
500 x 91st Infantry Heavy Houk Fire Support

Reserves Infantry / Vehicles / CAS Fighters
TBD If you bring more I’ll raise it, or lower it for less. You know the drill with me. CAS and arty etc is very likely for my part if not already present tomorrow with another writer.

Personal Gear and NPCs: Next Post.
 
"Oh dear oh my. They started with a bang, didn't they?" A voice sounded off beside where [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] was buried, almost singsong in nature. A presence suddenly appeared in the Force, as if by magic. Dubiety sat casually on the end of the concrete that was bearing down on the Jedi Knight, his masked face staring up at the ruins of the hospital around them. So much devastation already. So many lives snuffed out.

In his hand he held his staff, holding the red crystal aloft. Feast. The crystal spoke to it's master, edging him on. A bottomless hunger wanting nothing more than to consume more and more souls. It didn't matter what kind, only that they could be eaten. And so the young Sith waved the staff, red leaching from it like blood in zero gravity. The tendrils reached out at the various bodies of poor souls trapped from the bombing, and those trying to help.

All at once they froze, their strings pulled taunt by the puppetmaster. And like puppets they fell, one by one as their very soul was plucked by the strings that held them in place. Their skin withered, their flesh shrank. Twelve souls suddenly vanished, leaving behind nothing but a dark empty husk. Dubiety slowly lowered his staff, the voice in the back of his mind once again muttering. Good. With that single word of approval the masked man jumped from his perch, crouching down to stare at the impaled Jedi.

"Best get out quick, less they eat you."

Behind him the fallen puppets began to stir, the husks seemingly possessed. Their bodies rose, scrambling across the ground. Screams sounded by the others survivors as these desecrated bodies began to move. To consume. A single horrific scream echoed above all else as the rest fell to silence, stunned. Flesh ripped as one poor man was unable to get away from the husks and quickly found himself eaten.

Dubiety moved away from the trapped Jedi, his staff rising again. There would be a horde soon enough.
 
One of the problems of being Coren Starchaser was that the Sith were tending to be a step or two ahead of where he wanted to be. And that meant playing catch up. With the lack of infrastructure he was used to with the Galactic Alliance, Starchaser and his folk in the Alliance-in-Exile had to rely on other groups, and while it was second hand knowledge, anything coming from the Coalition, Silvers, Confederacy, or the small network of rebels that were aiding the fight, was just as good as anything his trusted people were able to get. But what he was hearing were reports of the Sith making moves and motions to hit the world of New Holstice. And with the Spear still back in dry-dock, following the strike of Jabiim, the Jedi Master loaded what Jedi he could into one of the newly modified CR-140s, the Whiplash.

The ship was modified off of the FarStars used by the AiE, but modified an ancient design to it, removing the size of it hangar, and shielding capabilities, to make room for even more advanced engines systems. Without missing a beat the ship had arrived, with volunteers from the Alliance in Exile and the Shattered Jedi Order, and deployed the Alliance X- and U-Wings. The Whiplash made a quick comm burst to scramble the movements of her U-Wings from the enemy and jumped back to the relative safety of lightspeed.

Looking to the men and women in the U-Wing, some NPC soldiers, some NPC Jedi, and maybe even a PC Jedi or two if they chose to come with him. He looked to the team with him. “We’re moving to reinforce the world of New Hospice. We know the Silvers are already here and we’re here to back them up. Strike the Sith hard, and aid the Silvers. Jedi, we all have our specialties, stick with them” He was speaking over the comms. The U-Wings had turned away towards where the Sith were landing, but not close enough to being in firing range, pulling in close, they skidded on repulsors as the teams jumped out before moving

The blue lightsaber of Starchaser ignited among the others as he hurried forward, the Force leading him where he had to go, the place where the fighting was thickest. If anyone ever doubted he was a weapon of the Jedi, they had not been paying attention. Reaching out to the Force, he was already pushing the bit of valor he could, the power to focus his team, giving them strength and inner coordination as he ran forward. The battle wasn’t far, and his support system was ready to fight. They were a step behind the Sith, but it didn’t mean his team wasn’t going to strike them hard.
 
Timing seemed to always fall against the Jedi Master. While it wasn't his fault entirely, he was humble enough to take some of the blame for that. Just weeks ago he was having a conversation with an [member="Samara Raine"] about the ever growing threat of the Sith Empire and rise in strength of the dark side of the force. And just a few short days after that he could sense his own inner light being threatened by the constant harassment of the Sith. It wasn't just him anymore, there were others that needed him to stand as best as he could. If he were to fail, then those few after him would be threatened.

[member="Coren Starchaser"] could be heard as Kahne stood with his hand on the bar above him to keep him somewhat stable without getting tossed about much. Kahne could sense the emotions were running high with the civilians and the like that were here, these people had suffered much. The Jedi Masters inner circle was as calm as could be, perhaps for the time being.

There are sith that needed to be destroyed, and people that needed to be saved. It wasn't long until they reached their destination. Jedi and soldiers alike began their actual deployment, as did Kahne. His lightsaber drawn, he was ready for this challenges ahead.
 
Yuroic was about to enact his plan when a voiced called to him. Taunting him, how'd the Sith get here so quickly. Unless, of course there were some already on the ground and knew of the attack. Yuroic cursed to himself as he couldn't stop the monster snuffing out the lives of the innocent people nearby. What was more worrisome was even dead they were about to turn into some monstrosity. Shrieking and crying out. Taking a deep breath, Yuroic knew his careful and methodical approach was no longer an option. He needed to act fast. Lifting the rubble with the Force, he wrenched himself off the rebar, holding back a shout of agony. Then he slid out and stood holding his side. There wasn't time to heal and he wasn't sure the damage he just did to his body to really heal himself correctly.

The zombies were not far away. Igniting his Lightsaber in his left hand as his right held his wound. Yuroic made quick work of the zombies, slicing their heads off as he grunted with every step he had to take. A dozen lives were turned into husks. A dozen lives he would repay. Examining the wound quickly, he saw nothing troubling so set to work, healing himself. Having full concentration the wound healed in mere moments. His body still ached from where the wound was but he was able to ignore that pain, he needed to focus. Looking around his eyes scanned for the Sith.

"Come on out coward. Try facing me now!" Yuroic shouted. His voice dark and angered. He was annoyed that they had taken lives when he was helpless, he wanted revenge for those people. Not necessarily a Jedi but he wasn't a pure Jedi, he was Grey, demonstrated by his knowledge in Dark Side powers.

[member="Dubiety"]
 
​Eet-kama-ru!
​The Axes of the Chieftains Fist grinded against metal.
​Mour-ra-ka!
Mour-ra-ka!
​Eleven Draelvasier. Lured by death.
​Eet-kam-ru!
​Mour-ra-ka!
​Mour-eest-ka-oum!
​Their hammers crushed the dirt beneath, the excited pace of their hearts mirrored by the sounds of their weapons.
-​
​The Chieftain and his eleven chosen had arrived in the atmosphere of New Holstice. The Seers had dreamt of a golden fire melting into flesh - Tathra would burn all who lay in his path to glory. To kill; to be stronger, to be faster than any other. To prove your worth by returning the weak to dirt. That was the truth.

​The Jedi and Sith were no more than puppets to their own primal desires. Whether they realised it or not, their institutions existed to continue the cycle of war. Two ideologically opposed groups, forever fighting. It was beautiful. As humans would often say, all good things must come to an end. The Hel Shard's walls were alive with the vibrations of the ecstatic voices of the eleven alongside Tathra. The Chieftain's Fist, the best warriors of his species.

​They had been with him since the start, some of the first Baedurin to be spawned from the template. Stronger, smarter. Hardened skin from nearly a year of endless fighting. The Bryn'adûl's finest. All huddled into a single shard. Shoulder to shoulder, eager for the slaughter. The slow beat of their Axes against their chests began as the Shard descended towards the primary invasion sight. Tathra walked a step forward, now ahead of his kin.

​"[Draelvasier]: Some of them will make for competent foes. Give them nothing but your blade. For the Drael!- ​Tathra turned to them now, his titian eyes filled with a empowering intensity, his head raising as the beat of their Axes engulfed every corner of the Shard. ​"[Draelvasier]: For ourselves." ​The pod sunk down towards the planet surface, amass of fire collecting at the tip of its spearhead as it created a meteor like appearance, parts of its exterior flaking off as it hurdled down toward the ground.

​Just outside of the Planets local sensors, the Bryn'adûl battlenet lit up, several small ships ready to head toward the planet surface.

​Deployed: x11 Chieftains Fist
​Reverses: x4 Shamans | x4 Servitors | x1 Draeyde Swarm | x200 Drones | x6 Commanders |
​Gear: Vest | Gauntlets | Mace | Shield | Flail



| [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Kahne Porte"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Dubiety"] | [member="Kei Amadis"] | [member="Eye of Solomon"] |​


 
Seth.. Wasn't entirely sure what he was doing in a hospital in the first place. Of all the jedi. Healing was never something he easily grasped onto. Not that he wasn't strong in the force. He had a high potential, and had accomplished a fair share of impressive feats considering he had only a bit over four months of proper training under his mentor Yuroic Xeraic. Though healing truly wasn't his cup of tea. He rather be practicing stealth tactics, or working on honing his beast master, or combat skills. Anything along those lines would of served his interest more.

Though, One thing Seth did learn. Was the needs of the people were a priority. Protecting the force was a priority. Seth would need to set his own interests aside for the time being. Well.. So he thought. When news reached him as to the true reason Seth was on site. The perspective of the matter changed. Seth was about to be trusted to face his first bout of conflict against the sith empire. The last time he acted against a force user. Was when he was a teenager. In that engagement he had thrown the man who killed his first mentor into a wall with significant force. Though he had been acting purely off emotion. Though Seth did sometimes rely on emotion to aid him, it was no longer such a crutch.

Finally.. A strike hit the hospital. The concusion.. Though Seth was not directly in the area of impact. Struck with enough force that even he staggered. "What the... Kark..." Seth murmered and was about to check on his mentor to make sure he was okay... Only to find an odd predicament. As he looked ahead and focused. "Zombies?" He muttered as a small wave of undead entities seemed to mope about the halls. Seth took a moment to compose himself. "Why not.. Hospitals, Zombies, and Sith.. Sounds like a typical day."

Seth was a bit under armed. He carried a force imbued staff, and a set of meditation stones. That and technically he had a proper training lightsaber. He could probably use it in a real fight. Seth wasn't a hundred percent certain never having tested that theory. Though considering the circumstances. Seth was pretty confident remembering his mentor's words about his staff. He would probably need to put it to the test. As he was warned the staff would be ineffective against an opponent in armor. Plus.. His staff was finite in it's ability to counter a lightsaber. Maybe only able to deflect a few straight blows before becoming overstrained.

For now Seth drew upon the force. As much as he wanted to tear zombies apart. Throwing stones at them seemed.. Like a daunting task. Even if Seth was confident he could get them to the velocity needed to deal damage. He would need to ask his mentor about zombies. Should both of them survive this invasion. Seth sprinted towards the small group of zombies. Then ran to the wall and kicked off it. Propelling himself between the hallway till he had overcome the threat.

Unfortunately a second strike threw Seth off balance. While he hit the ground and growled. Instinctively rolling as he got back up onto his feet. Taking a short dash around the corner. Where he ended up spotting someone up ahead. Seth focused and studied the figure. Huh.. Not on his side for sure.. Well here wen't nothing. Seth centered his thoughts and surged forward towards them.

[member="Elani Zambrano"]
 
Location: Antar 5 -> New Holstice
Allies: [member="Kei Amadis"]
Suspects: [member="Tathra Khaeus"]

"General, we have reports concerning New Holstice: the planet will soon come under attack and..." the intelligence officer reported before being interrupted.

"Here's the plan: we have our vanguard under General Amadis screen our movements and/or positions, and then we will move to secure a beachhead from which we can make our insertion, and assault the sewers and other underground ways. Plus we can always blast columns of enemy artillery from underneath them while our own choke points will be armed with a variety of defensive emplacements. And, of course, if - and it's not a given - Sith are there, we must expect their own camp to treat their own forces as background noise, as they call it, but also that all we need to do is to hold the line long enough for their morale to break"

"We shall make these Sith regret being so self-centered and act as if dueling was the only objective to them!" the intelligence officer, a veteran of Midvinter, shouted, in the presence of many of those troopers that are en route to New Holstice.

"We must also rescue as many civilians as we can, and this is why we came with medvac units in tow"

Poodoo. Every two or three years or so, the Sith military adventurism comes back to bite us. Hopefully the enemy commander of that era will be afraid of us enough to go all-in on our other elements being deployed, if that person is still active. What it does imply, if that information is correct, is that it will make holding the line harder on the vanguard, and perhaps additional forces others may have brought in tow, but easier on the army under my direct command, Jessica thought, while the heavy weapons teams, Xi Charrian, Trandoshan, Umbaran or otherwise, were readying their MANPADs, Izumos, machineguns and even mortars. Also, it would be the first combat deployment of these new artillery units outfitted with Katarns. And, of course, for fire support, as well as reconnaissance, in this urban environment, MobileMortar-4s are in use as well. Yet, she couldn't help but think the Blackblade Guard was perhaps the main enemy unit not under that Sith's command that was still deployed. As the flight in hyperspace began for the Silvers' army en route to New Holstice... they couldn't help but feel that something was amiss.

"You must have realized by now just how annoying it is for us to be fighting this sort of engagement just to satisfy the collective desire of a few enemy higher-ups for duels: the presumed objectives are just too large for just a few squads to go at it" a senior artillery officer remarked, while also being a veteran of the Rift and Tartarus.

"Don't worry, we'd still be protecting innocents"
 
Nida was beginning to think that nothing was sacred.

Though young and inexperienced, there was a measure of wariness in her bright eyes. Out of all the things she couldn’t understand, this she understood. There were bad people in the galaxy. They burned, they killed, they tortured, they enslaved. Sometimes their reasoning was complex twisting around on itself until you couldn’t make heads or tails of their motivation anymore. Sometimes it was simple, an ego too big, a lust for power, a need to inflict pain in order to satisfy some masochistic urge. It was just the way some people were, as life as a child slave had taught her.

Didn’t mean that she wasn’t terrified.

New Holstice was a peaceful world; a place of healing. Anything the Jedi held near and dear to them had to be ripped away by the Sith, so it would seem. There were others already on the ground, meeting the Sith threat head-on. Nida was just outside the hospital, alternating between ushering fleeing civilians into the great building and treating the wounded when and where she could. It was utter chaos, but she’d done this a handful of times. Enough to keep her head straight, but it was a conscious effort and her hands were shaking. The saber hilt at her waist felt a little too heavy, almost as if it didn’t belong.

She swallowed, her throat was dry. The Jedi were giving it their all, but still the enemy advanced with the staccato of blaster fire and flashes of crimson.

[member="Lark"]
 

Lark

Saint of the Damned
Lark's mind was fragmented.

Only on rare occasions did he truly realize this. Since he composed the utter ruination of his hometown, he had become something that the galaxy had rarely seen. A being with no true identity, someone whose mission changed from one sunrise to the next, depending on what personality he adopted. Lark was not his true name, whatever it was had been lost to the ever flowing enigma of time. In truth, he was only a nameless monster.

Since that fateful night, he had embraced numerous personalities that shifted whenever he needed them to, or whenever he felt like making things interesting. He was proficient with the blade, but words were his most dangerous weapon. There was a genuine personality, underneath the layers and layers of personas he hid behind. But that monster was seldom seen, buried deep within.

Lark overlooked the hospital, a locus that should be devoid of any hostility or conflict. But now, it found itself right in the middle of the hellscape that engulfed New Holstice. Men and women wounded from battle filled the place, doctors rushed towards those whose condition was most critical. But one trait that many of Lark's personalities shared was an absolute antipathy towards life. It meant nothing to him.

He stood in a small patch of dandelions, what might have once been a place of comfort for patients who were able to make trips outside. He held one in a pale hand, lightly blowing the soft flower towards the hospital. Small petals drifted towards the hospice, symbols of shelter now became symbols of annihilation. A slight gust of wind followed, Lark's scarlet hair fluttered like a scarf in the breeze. The rest of the dandelions rustled peacefully, oblivious to the carnage around them.

"Making a wish?" A nearby commander scoffed.

Lark chuckled softly. Sometimes he was oblivious to the presence of others around him. But he didn't take the affront personally. "Of a sort. Are your men ready?"

"They're in position, awaiting your order."

For a moment, Lark watched the hospital, which so desperately sought to restore life to the ones within. A meaningless effort. Only in death was humanity truly equal. They futilely fought to delay the inevitable. "Our orders are absolute annihilation," Lark said gently, with the voice of an angel. "Fire when ready."

Rockets and gunfire blazed towards the hospital, which immediately triggered a response. The Jedi were no fools, they knew the hospital would be a target and prepared defenses accordingly. Sith troops charged down the hill towards the building, and Lark leapt down with them. He'd be in the midst of the action, enchanted Sith sword and dagger in hand. Jedi and Sith fell around him, but Lark couldn't muster the emotion to care. He had never been able to.

After all he had seen, how could he?

[member="Nida Perl"]
 
"Coward? Is this what Jedi do when they feel fear? Stoop to insults?" Dubiety hummed his words, once again on the rock that had once imprisoned [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] . He had been watching, patiently letting the Jedi deal with the husks, even allowing him to heal himself. There was much the young Sith wanted to experiment on, and one of them was his own skill against an actual Jedi.

Though, it seemed his chosen target wasn't. A frown settled on his lips as he could feel the dark settle on the shoulders of this would be Jedi. "Or is that the way of the hypocritical Jedi? If you're going to follow something so wrong, at least follow it correctly." As he spoke the red gem began to glow, it's dark power being called upon by the young Sith.


"Ś̫̻͖̺̭̥̙u̬̳̰tt̹̝̪̭͟a̫̯̜͚̗͙̗͡ ̸̞C̢̘h̨̫̖̙͕͔͚w͠i͚͞ͅț̜̦u̺͞s̖̦̭̣̜͟k̷̙ͅá͉̹k̵̼͔̥̞̯̲."


A small sphere of bottomless darkness formed before the red gem before it flew through the air for Yurioc. Before it reached him it suddenly expanded, releasing an immense heat that burned the unprepared to naught but ash.
 
Laughter. Yuroic laughed deep and for a good few moments. Just standing there as he looked at the Sith. "Fear you? Who said I feared you? I'm angry, yes, annoyed, yes, fearful, hell no." Yuroic smirked as he studied the Sith. "I don't stoop to insults, surely they insults when they are true. Attacking a neutral world, one with a hospital with your own people. That is a coward's way, pathetic and very demoralising to your own men. 'Get injured, be ready for us to kill you.' Not a great slogan." Yuroic stated as he cursed himself for not having his bow on him. But who brings a bow to a hospital. He never thought they would be under attack.

When the dark orb came from the staff after the Sith said something in a language he did not understand. Yuroic dived out of the way, he knew whatever it was, it would be bad news. Leaping up into the air after the heat blast finished, Yuroic used the Force to send a powerful Force Push. Somersaulting, he landed on his feet and ignited his a single Lightsaber blade in his left hand. He was curious to see how skilled this Sith was. He had the impression it was a younger man but the mask made it hard to tell anything. Dashing forward, Yuroic brought his saber up in a strong arch to cut diagonally on the Sith should it land.

[member="Kahlil Zambrano"]
 
Kahlil only smiled behind his mask as [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] responded. Getting a rise of emotion from a Jedi was a rare treat, though it seemed the man before him was only barely a Jedi. It was worth seeing how a Jedi worked when they were a slave to their baser emotions. The blast of the Force impacted the sitting Sith, sending him back from his perch where he'd flip in the air and land on his feet. Again the Staff came up, still charged with eleven recently devoured souls.

"Ś̫̻͖̺̭̥̙u̬̳̰tt̹̝̪̭͟a̫̯̜͚̗͙̗͡ ̸̞C̢̘h̨̫̖̙͕͔͚w͠i͚͞ͅț̜̦u̺͞s̖̦̭̣̜͟k̷̙ͅá͉̹k̵̼͔̥̞̯̲."

Again the young Sith spoke those forbidden words, but unlike before two orbs formed around the staff's gem. With a simple wave of it he sent the spheres for the charging Jedi. They impacted the ground in the Jedi's path, aiming to either catch him mid charge or force him to keep his distance, both erupting with intense heat and turning the rubble that had once buried Yuroic into ash.
 
Yuroic relaxed himself, while his anger was there, it didn't control his actions. He was able to control his anger and not let it lead him, unlike many Sith who were just consumed by their anger and aggression. Yuroic twirled his blade and watched as two more orbs came from the stive. It was interesting weapon, attempting to prevent him from getting close and the whole heatwave turning stuff to ash was pretty awesome. It was in the wrong hands and Yuroic suspected that sacrificing people was necessary, which made it really wrong. However, still interesting.

Darting away from the orbs, Yuroic jumped to the side, pushing off a wall forwards and avoiding the heatwave, disintegrating thingy. He moved in close to the Sith, his blade swiftly attempting to slice at the arm that he held the stive, doubting that the Sith would be much threat without it. "Not much of a talker huh? What is that language you are chanting? Is it High Sith? Old Sith? Some other kind of Sith? Just curious, maybe when you are in SJO custody you can teach me some." Yuroic smirked.

[member="Kahlil Zambrano"]
 
"Old." Dubiety gave a simple response as [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] spoke, lightly tilting the staff to catch the saber. As expected of the Sith made weapon it had little problem dealing with the Jedi's weapon. Though, that came with another problem. Yuroic was close. Lightning dance around the staff as the young Sith unleashed a blast of the energy for the Jedi while jumping back, trying to create space between them again. Dubiety was strongest while he had the advantage of range after all.
 
Well, if there was someone in the galaxy who had worse luck than her Asaraa had yet to meet them. It was supposed to be a simple trip to a hospital, one of a number of Jedi on the ground, here to show the face and help out wherever they could. The first few days had been quiet, almost peaceful and she'd found herself enjoying the time away from the pressure and stress of the galaxy. This was helping people at it's most pure and simple, a simple pleasure you couldn't really feel anywhere else in the galaxy. Asaraa wasn't a super skilled healer, but she knew enough to help a little, an eager pair of hands to carry and bandage at the very least, to pull on the force when she could to alleviate the pain that seemed a very part and parcel of the hospital, as if it had soaked deep into the walls.

So, things had been going pretty well so far, the days melding into a peaceful lull, and they even had some friends show up, an entire Sith combat fleet. The girl blinked, reaching up to rub an arm across her face blinking at the ash covering her arm as she pushed herself up, her ears ringing. The assault had come on fast and she'd been thrown clear across the courtyard, her back scraping against the stone tiles, before she'd collided with the wall. The girl forced herself to her feet, one hand resting on her back as she levitated her sword up into her hand, glancing around at the devastation caused by the initial attack. The wafts of smoke billowing into the air, the smell of burning filling the air as she glanced around and took a step forward. When in doubt just move and see who she could find.
 

Eye of Solomon

Guest
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He walked amongst the chaos one hand held behind his back, fingers curling into a fist, while the other hung loosely at his side with fingers curled around the hilt of a lightsaber. Occasionally, one of the defenders who managed to survive the initial onslaught would take a couple pot-shots at him; no doubt thinking that he could deal a grievous blow to the invading force if he took out a Sith as if it were that easy. No, the Lord merely turned and dodged the first volley, lazily raising his saber to send the last few careening back into the hapless soldier. The lad stumbled forward before pitching over onto his stomach, several contrails of black smoke twirling away from his body.

"How uncivilized, these brutes."

His voice was haughty and proud, noble blood pumping through his veins. He let his blade fall back to his side as he leisurely continued on. Here and there he would spot the Empire's legionnaires busying themselves with grunt work, trading fire with the city's militia or clearing rubble for the Empire's vehicles to pass by. Occasionally one of the officers or adjutants would trot up to his side and brief him of the progress, but Novae cast an air of indifference around him by nodding and looking as if he were more interested in what lay beyond the smoldering horizon than what was being said to him. These encounters always ended the same, he would wave them away and tell them to continue the good fight and that the Emperor was proud of them.

Was he? Novae didn't know, the Emperor didn't make his feelings known about anything except to his cadre of councilors.

Movement above him, Novae glanced up at the sight of enemy ships zooming through the air. From what his keen eyes could pick out, they bore the insignia of the Silver Jedi Order. "How quaint," he mused absently to himself as he followed their trajectory through the skies and began to walk in that direction, "Perhaps I shall pay our neighbors a visit."

[member="Michael Sardun"]
 
When the news reached the ears of Ra, she had to take the opportunity. So few chances were given to her to attack the Sith she so wanted to destroy. She had taken too much abuse from them, the final straw had been when they ruined her stable life. That had recovered finally. Her home and life now were with Josh and she worked from time to time with the Silvers.

Now on New Holstice, she waited until things started to kick off before doing anything. Getting the lay of the land and area around, she actually was looking forward to stopping the Sith advancement. Not picking a specific location or target, yet, the former Sith walked.

On her route, she would sometimes fade away in the Force and from sight. Skills taught to her when she was a Sith Assassin and she had no qualms using these neutral skills. No longer a Sith, she still had some Dark Side qualities, but those were fading as time passed. If one felt deep enough though, those influences could still be picked up on.

She wore one double-bladed lightsaber hilt on her belt, had two hidden shoto lightsabers up her sleeves, a blaster on the other side of her belt and two knives hidden within her boots. The only additional weapon she had was a spiked ball at the end of her braided hair. Finally reaching a location of her choice, she sat down on the ground and would reveal her presence. Hopefully like a small beacon, it would draw the attention of one of these Sith.

[member="Kaine O'Doran"]
 

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