Junction The Final Countdown - AC/NIO/EE/GA/Enclave/BotM Junction of Dromund Kaas/Centares/Lutrilla/Aruza/Hypori/empty hex above Sposia

[Dagon Kaze]

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN
BROTHERS DIVIDED vol. II
Issue #0 w/ Aeric Kaze

THEIR WAR HERE​

The world spun round and round, upside and down, in restless vertigo. A moment the sky was up, then it was down and then back up before Aeric adjusted faster to set himself in a position above Dagon and shoved the Jedi down towards the ground. His hands rushed to a futile block but only a moment too late as Aeric's punch shot through his guts and a deafening and visible explosion of the Force reverberated miles away into the distance. His whole structure folded underneath its strength and the air was forced out of his lungs as Dagon was sent flying like a bullet towards the nearby jungle.

Everything blurred in his sight at this speed. Without a sense of balance, his body twisted and turned around its axis as it crashed through acres upon acres upon acres of the jungle. Whole trees crashed aside, even the ground itself ripped by the invisible exertion of the ethereal, leaving behind him a trail of destruction splitting the whole jungle apart as if someone had fired a massive shatterbeam through it.

His body cried out for deliverance but the empyrean numbed it away, muting its shrieks to carry its righteous will against the agent of darkness that was his brother. Gravity began to tug him down when he finally found his 'footing' in the air and shifted the inertia around. So strong was Aeric's punch that it took him another quarter of a mile before Dagon finally stopped in the air, the shockwave still echoing behind him as trees continued to be ripped apart.

One eye shut and teeth gritted against each other, he looked back in the distance where the small frame of his brother dotted the horizon. Ashlan blue flashed across his eyes as he called upon the Force and repulsed, blasting visible ripples of the Force around him as he restructured the broken bones of his frame back to their right place. He landed down on the ground and dug in his arms into the earth, picking up a massive chunk of the ground above his shoulders. Dagon squinted, zoning in on Aeric like a hunter's target, and with a roar fired the massive slab of rock and earth at his brother. He lunged right after it. Two explosions in the sky rippled across the horizon indicating both slab and Jedi broke the sound barrier as they surged towards their intended target.

A barely visible mist of the Force oscillated around his fist as he sought to deliver a jab with the power of a hundred turbolasers into his twin to blast him into Kaas City far, far in the distance where their battle would continue among the bloodied conflict between nations.
​

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[Baron Reinhardt Ström]

OBJECTIVE: I - Once More Into the Breach
TAG: Ingrid L'lerim, Pietro Demici, The Mongrel Shai Krayt Ziare Dyarron Open
LOCATION: Imperial Forward Operating Base, Northern Outskirts of City

The first sign of trouble was the dense, choking smoke beginning to billow from the points of impact throughout the forest. The seeping muck splattered nearly everywhere within the jungle, with the forces most affected being the remaining advance forces that had thus far weathered the storm of the Maw advance. The sounds of hundreds of inhumane, shrill screams could be heard from deep within the forest. If it wasn't the flames, it was the remaining wardogs who had picked off what soldiers who attempted to run away from said flames. What had previously amounted to hundreds of elite Ultranaut forces dug in tighter than a Dathomiri spider had soon be reduced to just under one hundred men making their way out of the area.

The main battle line was not immune from the desperate attack either. Portions of the line had suffered a direct hit from the rounds, with scores of the Empire's finest meeting their ignoble end at the hands of the Maw's cowardice. The damage would be staved off however, as emplacements and artillery positions carried a modest amount of a fire-retardant compound for use in the event of an incendiary round misfire. It would not fully prevent the affects of the attack, but it could at least help contain the situation. The compound was deployed liberally by the forces at hand, doing their best to withdraw to the emplacements established along the outer perimeter of the command center and apply the compounds at their disposal to prevent the spread of the flames while doing so. All in all, the unexpected nature of the attack had resulted in far more casualties in the span of ten minutes compared to the entirety of the engagement.

Reports soon began trickling in detailing the Maw retreat, as well as the effects of their final attack to mask their retreat. If it were possible, Ström's expression had grown even sterner at the reports being presented. As if on cue, one of the Blackwatch Psi-Corps agents approached the Overseer and leaned over to his ear, as if to ensure the Baron was the only one able to hear his words: "Sire, we have confirmed the identity of the Maw Commander we have been battling. It appears he has managed to sneak past our lines and eliminate one of our units deployed to apprehend the agent triangulating our position." After a few moment's pause, Ström fixed the agent with a waiting glance indicating his bemusement at the failed attempt to pause for dramatic effect. The agent, picking up on the none-too-subtle indication from the nobleman, continued. "The Mongrel."

There it was. His face grew even grimmer at the mention of the renowned Maw commander. Without a word, the Baron turned to face the table and leaned heavily upon it, both of his palms pressing deep into the table. To any observer, the Overseer's reaction would be seen as a bit puzzling. In every military metric, his encounter with The Mongrel had resulted in a victory for the Empire. They had inflicted more casualties upon the enemy, they had prevented their advance into the rear of the coalition forces, and they had done so with relatively few (even now) casualties in return, albeit rising with each passing minute thanks to the chemical fires now raging nearby. But to the Baron, this wasn't simply about a military victory. The Mongrel had proceeded to make a mockery of his and his men's bravery this day with his cowardly act of quite literally attempting to burn it all to the ground. Then he had the audacity to bypass the Imperial lines altogether for Gods knew whatever reason. To Ström, he was now deprived of his prey in the form of one of the Maw's most well known and wanted figures. To let such a prize slip through his fingers was the ultimate insult to his ability. For several moments, the Baron allowed himself to seethe with the combination of both rage and disappointment, but he soon after recomposed himself.

"The day has been won. Submit a copy of our reports to the Empress immediately, and set about bringing what wounded we have to the field medical office." He then turned to meet the waiting gaze of the nearest officer, who he hoped was listening to him. "Save who you can. Clear?" With hardly a millisecond's hesitation, the officer gave the Baron a firm salute, to which Reinhardt returned the gesture. He then left the command center, with his newfound 'guards' in tow, and set about inspecting the rear guard forces approaching the perimeter of the camp to establish a fire-retardant line of defense. Amongst the soldiers who stood tall and firm, stood another barely making his own way under the weight of his injuries, be they burns, blaster wounds, or a combination thereof. After making his way to the edge of the shielded perimeter, the Baron just... stood there. He may have been considered one of the Empire's foremost commanders, and therefore carried the persona of a man of high station. But when it came to the field of battle, he was also regarded as one of the few men of his station who seemingly 'felt' the pain of those under his command. Although he was not unaccustomed to death and sacrifice, those who trickled in from the Maw retreat action had been wounded by a needless attack by a foe unaccustomed to defeat. As he observed more and more men filing in to the medical center, Ström had mentally resolved to help The Mongrel become evermore accustomed to defeat. Up until his death at Ström's own hand, if it came to that.

~Finit

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[Morrow]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
Kyrel Ren | Iris Arani

Failure had no chance to register before pain became Morrow's singular absolute. Blood and dirt overtook the senses, clouding the vision and filling the palate. Consciousness leaked away with every subsequent blow before the unceremonious hoist. At the end of his plummet, a crunching, sharp agony suddenly reverberated from his lower back to the top of his head and tips of his toes. Pins and needles materialized, danced an excruciating cavort across every inch of his extremities. As he met the ground, muck and mire scattered out from beneath his zone of impact.

Sentience returned moments later, and stinging torment along with it. Trembling to a knee, the knight expelled silt and blood from his mouth. Everything had happened so quickly, he hadn't been allotted enough time to process what had gone wrong. All that remained was the broken-bone aftermath of the Sith's retaliation. Fighting through pain, Morrow willed his legs to stand against the cries of anatomy and gravity. The spine became a conduit of torture, misery shooting from a fracture near sever at the base of his back.

Before his first step, something gripped his hair and pulled him back to the floor. Anguish like lighting shot through every nerve of his body as he seized tightly in the mud. Two Mawite Cannibals stood over Morrow, gluttony glimmering in wild eyes. They came down with their weapons, unprepared for the invisible barricade that stifled their attacks. Pallid fingers curled into a claw commanded the Force around the throat of one assailant, and with a tug of the Knight's arm, the first of the Cannibals was sent into the ground neck-first with a hair-raising snap.

Another strike came from the second. Morrow took it. Defying the pain of broken ribs, he brought his arm to his chest to trap the weapon. His free hand grasped around the jaw and cheeks of the remaining attacker. Morrow's gray eyes stared intensely into the enraged eyes of his would-be slayer. The air between them intensified with malice as the cannibal began to scream. Blisters materialized over the dermis, extremities began to vaporize, and the second of Ren's cannibals fell to the mud.

Groaning, fighting through tremors of inability, Morrow once again stood. His weapon flew through the air from whence it had been disarmed and back to his hand. Brilliant unpigmented peal ignited between his fingers as he limped and panted with detrimental determination toward the Sith and Jedi. Until the last drop of his blood was spilled, he would endure. There would be retribution. The darkness would be purged. He would see to it, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Location: Some Old Ruins
Objective: Capture or Kill Darth Arcanix
Allies: Wyatt Morga // Romi Jade // Coren Starchaser
Enemies: Taeli Raaf
Equipment: Coat | Armor | Lightsaber: 1 & 2 | Gun | Arm | Corellian Jedi Credit | Ring
Music Theme

His armor would hum as he readied the shield within it just in case, the long-pike spinning and growling as he arced figure-eights to clear space before lunging at one Adept then the next, aiming for hamstring strikes on both to at least take them out. If Taeli escaped, they could at the least try to get information from one of these Adepts, potentially. Best to take down the two rushing him as he had tried, and then blur into action against the center one readying some sort of spell. Even if he somehow missed the blows on the two closing, the burst of speed and twisting use of Inertia to contort his movements as he ran along the wall and leaped off to fly at the third target should be enough. Hell, the two he hamstrung could probably still use the energy bows they carried against him. But they would be out of the fight for the moment if he had hit. Pain and disorientation would see to that. And he had learned, in the time since his return. To not burn hot all the time. To use his power sparingly, in specific and momentary bursts to effect just the right result.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

The flaps of the tent were opened in a flash and quickly the Ren found himself blinded for only a moment. In that moment he found much of his dark garb was stained in different colors. Taking a few fingers and rubbing the substance together he found it nothing more than paint. Clenching his fist in a rage, he heard a voice call out to come get her. If she wanted to play hide and seek Kyrel would surely play for he was not going to let a Padawan escape from him so easily. His troops kept a burning through it all, cries of pain echoed through the camp as the carnage didn’t cease for a moment.

His anger reaching to a boiling point, the tent itself exploded with telekinetic energy. His sights set fully on the girl that was trying to get away. “I don’t need you in one piece… I might as well start with your legs.” He said as slowly on the ground the scattered pieces of durasteel, wood and other splinters that he made from the ruined tent floated. Watching as she started to run with her saber in hand, his eyes locked on her. Within seconds all the shattered and sharp materials were sent flying, some one by one and others into volleys as if to slow her attempted escape from him.

Even if one did not slow her down he started in a slow stride towards her. He didn’t know that she was drawing him out into a trap, or even a confrontation either way he would tear out pieces of her until her Master would seek him out. Along with each heavy step his boots made in the mud he looked back slowly to the Imp Knight. While the Knight had fended off his cannibal monstrosities, he looked at him with disgust. Here the man tried to give chase by limping towards the Ren which only caused him for a moment to stop the chase and look back. “You might want to stay down…. It will all be over soon.” His twisted advice carried some glee in that he practically broke his spine. Yet still tried to fight back.

Kyrel gave a tone of disgust. “You aren’t worth the seconds it would take to kill you…” He said as if not registering the Knight as a threat for now, he played the Jedi girl’s game. Following after her to see where she would bring him, and what she would do when he was away from the camp and his forces.

Iris Arani
Morrow

 

[Iris Arani]

Objective: Survive
Tag: Morrow | Kyrel Ren

Oh boy did it work. Iris grimaced as Kyrel opened the tent flap and got covered in paint. The anger she saw, it only got stronger. Talk about poking the furious bear. Maybe it wasn't the best idea, but if he stepped in further the rest of her tra- The tent blew up behind her. She blinked, pausing her run, sliding through the mud as she stared back. All she had was another can of paint that was set to ignite. Set him on fire, maybe distract him long enough for her to get further away.

But the tent was gone. Her trap, gone.

Domxite was the only thing keeping her calm for the moment. Their influence through the meld the two shared.

“I don’t need you in one piece… I might as well start with your legs.”

What? He needed her? Not that she had time to speak about it. The pieces of the broken tent were sent her way, ripping through the air. This time panic did break through. She dove back, her blade cutting what they could. But the mud was slippery, and she wasn't trained to block these. Lines of blood formed on her exposed skin, her clothing ripped as she tried to not get just impaled immediately.

Mud covered, she scrambled back to her feet, renewing her run. She just needed to get Kyrel away from this fight, give the people a chance to regroup against his minions.

 

[Morrow]

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
Kyrel Ren | Iris Arani

Morrow readied himself in spite of the pain. Every raindrop that hissed sharply into vapor against his saber's blade intensified the pounding in his head. Before he could strike, the Jedi began to scramble and run. Leaving him without the impromptu ally he'd had for only mere moments. An ugly scowl contorted across his face, channeling all rage into the muscles of his face. "Jedi recreant!" he shouted with contemp, oblivious to her intentions. The nameless she-Jedi became as loathsome as the Sith in that moment. Few things hit the Knight's mind as sourly and sordid as a coward did.

“You might want to stay down…. It will all be over soon.”

"Silence, miscreant," Morrow spat. Pearl plasma flourished at his side, unfettered by the pain of its wielder. "You will not evade me so easily. Now, contest me or fall on my blade."

“You aren’t worth the seconds it would take to kill you…”

Abhorrence reached its peak as the Sith too turned face and fled. Fury bubbled up from Morrow's chest, catching in his throat like fire. Tooth-gritting grimace muffled a growl. Every ounce of his contempt and frustration channel into his fingertips, releasing white-hot bolts of lightning as his hand thrust forward with malice. "Don't you fething run away from me!" Morrow screamed. All pain faded under the sensation of determined spite. Surging forward, he dashed with unreasonable speed for a nigh severed spine. Calling on the force, both feet left the ground with a macabre grace. Curving through the air with unnatural trajectory, Morrow swung for the neck.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Location: Ruins of the Prophets
Objective: TTFN
Allies:
Enemies: Wyatt Morga Julius Sedaire

Equipment: In signature
Forces: 11 Ravenscar Adepts (two injured), some NFU archaeologists and scientists

The force of the knee into her stomach was absorbed by her armor, but she allowed the impact to open up the space Wyatt wanted to deal with his shadow. In fact, she added a little Force Push to increase the space and not follow through as he likely expected with some attack. Julius had injured two more of her Adepts and was dealing with one that was casting Darkshear at him.

She weighed the fight in her head even as Wyatt's blade cut through the shadow's conjured weapon and the shadow itself. She could continue it, empowered by Dromund Kaas as she was, but then she wouldn't learn as much about what was going as she liked. Plus, the longer a fight went on, the more likely it would attract additional attention from the crusading forces invading the planet. The shadow moaned softly and fell back as his blade found purchase.

A snap of her fingers and each of her able Adepts would disappear in a whirl of Force energy and feathers, their Talismans once again transforming them into ravens. Ten would alight away, but one that Julius had hamstrung would find their talisman had cracked when they had landed. They would also, no doubt, question the scientists and archaeologists she had brought along for why she might be interested in ruins from the Prophets of the Dark Side, but it was only a minor inconvenience at the moment for her.

"We'll have to continue this another time," she said, her saber turning off and she offered both men a small incline of her head in respect. And then to Wyatt, a sly wink with an added, "Catch me if you can."

And in a whirl of black and purple smoke, she disappeared.