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The Brotherhood of the Maw launch a surprise invasion on the Queen of the Core, Coruscant, as the member states of the Bastion Accords plot their next move in the wake of the Battle of Lao-Mon and the Raid on Jakku. Called together by the Iron Imperator Rurik Fel
, the member states of the Bastion Pact meet within the confines of the Senate Building before disaster strikes. Meanwhile, the New Sith Order march on the New Jedi Order at their sacred temple in hopes of destroying their sworn enemies once and for all, capitalizing on their machinations within the Galactic Senate all in accordance to their Grand Plan.
The Bastion Pact find themselves under siege against the ravenous marauder hordes of the Brotherhood of the Maw, filling the skies above and anchoring themselves in orbit of the ecumenopolis. With an army of dark disciples and sadistic cutthroats they plunge into the Galactic Jewel with a mind for nothing but WAR, DEATH, and REBIRTH.
So it was that on air, space, and land, a great battle begins. One that will be remembered as one of the largest ever thrown for the soul of the Core. The Great Battle of Coruscant begins.. are you ready?
The New Jedi Order have been incarcerated, locked away to their temple by the Galactic Senate, the very people they sought to protect and guide. They have been deceived, after numerous investigations and inquests influenced by paranoia and deceit spread by Senatorial infiltrators belonging to the New Sith Order, the Jedi were too dangerous and must be kept on a tight leash. The paragons of truth and justice have been corralled into a corner, herded together until a final inquiry into the matter can be laid at rest.
The time is now.
The New Sith Order gather, their machinations finally bearing the fruit of their labor, they rise from the shadows of Coruscant and march on the Jedi Temple. Fresh from the hunt on Jakku, the New Sith Order finally step out of the darkness and into the light, they come to deliver a decisive blow to their rivals once and for all. The Jedi must die, every last one of them.
At last they will reveal themselves, at last they will have their revenge.
Defend the temple or take your revenge.
The galaxy mourns the Shi’ido, committed to genocide after the nearly successful liberation of Lao-Mon by the forces of the Silver Jedi Concord, the Galactic Alliance, and the New Imperial Order. The Brotherhood of the Maw rebuked the Bastion Pact’s forces after a hard fought battle for the soul of the planet. The defeat of the combined forces of the Pact and the successful defense of Rhand against the Confederacy of Independent Systems spoke ill of events to come, so it was that the Iron Imperator Rurik Fel called the Pact back to Coruscant where they would reevaluate their next moves.
The Brotherhood of the Maw followed.
Led into the heart of the enemy with the discovery of the Pathway of the Mystics, the Brotherhood of the Maw slipped their armada deep into Alliance space, emerging near Metellos. The machinations of the New Sith Order run deep, as they prepared to strike a decisive blow against the Temple, the Metellian Defense Fleet was left blind by the magicks of the Sith. Sensors fooled by illusion, battleships led astray, and officials bribed with visions of power as the true threat was now free to approach Coruscant unopposed.
As the New Sith Order strike the temple of the New Jedi Order, the sky burns and the Brotherhood roar, the Maw rages across Coruscant as war engulfs the glistening spires of the Queen of the Core. Fight in the streets, plunder or protect the Senate District, free the crazies of Azreal Asylum or stop the madness from taking root. The enemy ravage Embassy Row, Xiao-Town, and the 500 Republica will you join or stop their advance?
The Naval forces of the Galactic Alliance and the token forces brought by the Bastion Pact engage the Brotherhood of the Maw’s armada over the Queen herself. Laser fire and scrap metal fill the void of space in orbit of the galaxy’s center, battle rages between both sides as chaos erupts in the Core. As the battle progresses the Maw seek to solidify their surgical strike with the deployment of WS-1 World Devastators, their intent clear, do not let them feed off the sorrows of Coruscant. Defend the Queen! Fight the Brotherhood or ravage the Pact, the choice is yours.
Credit to the glorious Annasari for these lovely objective banners and to the man, the myth, the legend Dagon Kaze
for the amazing opening artwork.
The memory of his first act bubbled its treacherous way to the forefront of his mind amidst his brooding meditation, coaxing his tremoring hands into fists clenched tightly around one another. It nagged him, just as it always had; spurning his grace and generosity. In the disquiet he fostered, nurturing his chaos into something felt upon all levels of The Prophet in its macabre march toward their deciding destination. To think of where it was their world-crushing wrath would land them. To think of the nights he lay restless conceptualizing the approach. What he would do. How he would do it. It was the only dream of his that wasn't fundamentally founded in the nightmarish torture of his mind's own creation.
He would ascend the same stairs he had labored on as a boy. He would endure the same scratch of the Light's call upon his psyche. He would put its disciples to the blade, all of those who had rejected and denied him. Those who had groomed him to suppress his greatest talent. Those who had scorned him were long passed, but their legacy remained, and it was enough to incite his wrath. His teeth ground together, the gloves dwelling beneath his armored plating creaked softly. They would never have allowed him to reach his potential, to achieve the destiny he sought to craft for himself. No, his former Master's continuous coaching and warnings about his power were more than enough to prove that to him. The Jedi had feared what he would become, even if he was on their side.
Their greatest fear would become reality.
He despised them, what little room he reserved in his heart for such a thing crowned their memory.
And now it was their legacy that would suffer the consequences.
"Is this what you want?" she would not leave him be.
The Dark Lord furrowed his brow, scarred lips curling into a snarl cast unto the darkness of his meditation chamber. "With the hope that this will finally sever your tie enough to cast you to where you belong? Yes." He spoke toward her coldly, "And never will I endure another one of your self-righteous lectures again." It was easier to paint Muwian as a manipulator amongst the rest of them than to face the grim reality of what she had been to him. One of the sacred few who had ever granted him peace of mind, the second was lost to the mysteries of the galaxy, yet Muwian always remained- her broken, wounded spirit cursed to his Presence for as long as he would exist. "Have you come to watch me slaughter the children you would have helped mold?"
"Gloating never suited you." the spirit sighed from the far reaches of the chamber.
"Was I gloating?" he asked, tipping his chin upward in feigned innocence as he further espoused his venom, "My apologies, spirit, I seem to have lost my tactful touch." Caelitus stretched his legs out before him briefly before resigning them back beneath his weight, resting on his knees in the runic circle he commanded. "Spite me all you wish, whatever this that we have is, it ends tonight."
"You're not that naive to the machinations of The Force, Kezec, don't set yourself up for disappointment." her voice echoed all around him, surrounding him from each side. It threatened to stoke the embers in his chest, inciting him to lash out. She plucked his strings beautifully, as she had learned to in her tormented ages.
"As you did?" he bit back, shrugging his shoulders to remove the weight her touch placed upon them, "Even in death, you still prattle your lessons."
The groan of warded doors creaking open disturbed his false solitude, earning his blindfolded attention. Lonesome steps cracked against the floor, calling his motion to rise. The unyielding aura of dark corruption manifested in the chamber, spurring the heart in his chest to beat twice as fast. "Dark Voice," the miraluka uttered with a sliver of surprise, "what brings you to my little corner of solitude?"
strolled forward, ascending the altar to stand on the outside of the circle entrapping the Dark Lord. He said nothing, though he didn't need to for Caelitus to imagine the sinister smile on his sunken face. His Presence bleeding into his consciousness alone served as an answer to his purpose for visiting in the final moments before their forces would descend upon Coruscant. He was here to ensure his Shadow Hand was resolute in his desire and would not falter in the eleventh hour. Their string of victories needn't end so soon. He was testing the one he had redeemed, drinking in his resolve- Caelitus felt it bleeding from his mind, supped by the Sith'ari.
Caelitus tilted his head slightly and pressed a breath from his nose, soon lowering himself back to his knees to return to his thoughts.
The skies wept overhead, distant stars blacked out by the dreadful silhouette world after world had come to hope they would not behold. The Prophet lurked in orbit, its grim visage ferrying the worthy to a destination each and every single one of them had dreamt of for ages: Coruscant. In the grand assembly of the craft, the Dark Lord Caelitus had addressed the New Sith Order, his voice resounding as the resolute hymnal within the blackened hall to guide the wrathful hands of those he had promised would see the ashes of this world and most importantly perhaps, be the baleful wind that extinguished the dying embers of the New Jedi Order that remained after Jakku.
“Tonight, this world dies. Not in body, not in mind, but in soul.” It was the truest death for all his coursing hum promised them, “We will march on the Jedi Temple and slaughter all who we find inside. It matters little what banner or creed they belong to, such things are inconsequential. Each one of them has taken the oath to balance the Force and safeguard the universe, two things that cannot exist within our galaxy. They have failed already, and will fail again; their weakness will be punished. Just as we have rooted out the unsuitable heirs within our order, we will purge the galaxy of those unfit for our vision, leaving naught but the strongest to inherit the future we will carve out.” The Dark Lord had shifted in his stance, his masque of indifference glinting fiendishly in the overhead light. Armored hands outstretched toward the gathered Sith in welcoming gesture, “Each of you has proven why you have earned a place within the galaxy reborn, it is time to show the galaxy why. Come with me, and burn their temple, bathe in their blood, wash away the memory of their existence so that only the glory of ours remains.”
His stride had guided the predatory pack into their shuttles and together they had descended upon the holy world with nothing but the eager hunger for ruination on their mind.
As he stood upon the lowest of the temple steps, the Dark Lord could not help but grin with sadistic glee. It was just as his vision had painted for him, this entrance. He felt it rising up his throat like bile; disgust at the monolith to complacency before him. The Temple swelled with the Presence of the Light, an overburdened branch about to snap beneath the weight of its own fruit. They were the blade to catalyze the destruction and sow rot. A plated boot swept forward and pausing no longer, Darth Caelitus started the ascent up the gilded steps, reminiscing faintly upon the ghostly memory of doing this as a boy so long ago. Back when this place made him feel safe, when it made him feel strong, when it was his home.
“This ends tonight.” He started toward his company, drawing the blade from its sling upon his hip, “Leave nothing to chance, claim our victory.” The snap-hiss of his rueful blade angled toward the temple doors, “Peace is a lie-” His free hand lashed outward, sundering the readying guardians at the gate with a clap of crimson lightning, blasting them from their posts, “-there is only Passion.” His Presence unfurled its inky wings, spreading dreadful pestilence with his shadow upon the doors, “Through Passion I gain Strength.” The air hissed to a crescendo, squealing with the power enacted upon it by the violent malice he projected. The Temple doors blasted open, exposing the Sith to the soft light from within, “Through Strength I gain Power. Through Power I gain Victory.”
The Sith sullied the sacred halls with their Presence- an inkblot upon libram page.
“Through Victory my chains are Broken.”
The final line of their creed departed him bolstered by The Force, projecting his voice as thunder through the expanses of the structure, rattling it at its foundations: “The Force shall set me free.”
The New Sith Order had come to Coruscant.
And all who dared oppose them would be crushed to nothing but a memory.
[ Fire and Blood ] <"High Nelvaanian"> | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
Ingrid hadn't been to Coruscant long enough; since her captivity as a prisoner of war. Probably not so surprising. Now she could come here with official permission. Of course, she asked permission from the GA government to do so, as she did not want a political conflict with them. No serious diplomatic talks have yet taken place other than declaring an end to the war. The embargoes and all restrictions were lifted against each other, currently characterized by cautious neutrality. GA disregarded the Empress's eternal exile, so did the woman disregarded the fact the GA handed over her to the NIO, where Rausgeber wanted to kill her.
They still had a long way to go, but the first steps had been taken. And the Empress was able to come back to the capital as an individual. She handled the affairs of the HPI, there were many of them, as the embargoes prevented them from accessing their assets here for a long time, but now that was over. So she spent her last days in negotiations, business discussions. Ingrid hoped she would also have time to visit and talk to Aerarii Tithe
. The man had always been pleasant company and they maybe could have finally spoken in normal conditions this time.
Luckily, the affairs of HPI and Terraris Command went well, in fact everything was perfect from a business standpoint. She could not wish for more than that. However, it was something else; spent nearly or more than a year on the planet, now the aura and the Force was different. Not only was the treatment of the Jedi involved in this. As a Semi-Force Entity, she was more sensitive to this, though it may have been just that. She has been dealing with something else lately, including the end of the Bryn'adûl war. Ingrid had another incoming call; work can never wait for her and she set off for another meeting.
A Galaxy in flames once more. The New Imperial Order emerged from the breach at Lao-Mon as fruitless as their allies as the chaotic forces of the Maw managed to defend their stomping grounds from the Bastion Pact’s united front. This defeat spelled an ill omen not only for the New Empire, only just recovering from its venomous betrayal by the hands of Darth Caelitus but to the rest of those who they embarked with in the Galactic Alliance and the Silver Jedi Order.
From this- Rurik Fel called a meeting to Galactic City with the Alliance’s high command, to strategize a point of further attack against the Maw, bringing with him only a few select Star destroyers and their meager complement of ground forces to rearmament following the battle of Lao Mon. What soon assailed them was the Maw it self, in the beating heart of the Galaxy on Coruscant- chaos ruled the streets of Galactic City.
With its parcelled together force, the Iron Imperator has ordered that the New Imperial Order join the battle in the stars and the streets of Coruscant- less in the interest of preserving the jewel of the Core and more in the interest in killing the enemy with what few troopers and ships at their disposal.
Perhaps harkening back to a time when Imperial ideologies dominated the Core, stormtroopers marched in the streets once again.
Coruscant; it was the first time Eina had visited this planet. The Valkyrja hadn’t actually seen a place like this yet, so she found it fascinating. As for her current position, she represented the Ashlan Crusade as Ambassador. It was an unusual and somewhat inconvenient task. She envied Lord Geiseric and the other Honour Guards for their job. It suited the woman much better, but she was not a Jedi or member of order. And as a mascot, she could not have come, so she remained in the official position. After Panatha, all this was really necessary.
As usual, when in Realspace, she chose her angelic, winged appearance, was in armour, and had both swords on her side. If she was not allowed to have a weapon, she handed them to one of the crusaders. Eina didn't want to deny it, but she felt a little lost; it was really not a task the woman was used to in the Netherworld or even here in Realspace. She also hoped that she could speak for the Eternal Empire, though now the Ashlan Crusade was the most important, and she respected that.
Although Eina tried to hide that she could not find her place here, although those who knew them could see on it that she was a little lost. Still, the Valkyrja was still kind to everyone, answering questions. In short, she was herself. It was different to read about this place, to see holo records, and it was different to be here, to experience it. She didn't want to disturb the Honor Guards by addressing them, it wasn't appropriate anyway, so she just sent a telepathic message to Geiseric
~ I remember well, you used to study and live here? This place is amazing! I wish we had more time to explorer Coruscant. ~ her voice was exceptionally enthusiastic and girlish; she could not be seen many times in the way something would have impressed her so much.
During the Jakku fights, I seemed to have earned a little trust in the eyes of the Warlord, as I had been sent to Coruscant several days before the arrival of Maw to be there as an observer, scout. For this, I used my original identity as a noblewoman from Serenno. How lucky I was to have access to these money, tools and so I was able to travel and buy things even more easily. And I could easily get information as well.
Information, and I already had a plan for that. Within Nite, it doesn’t hurt to get higher and higher up that particular ladder so that I can access as much information as possible. Yes; I had far more plans and ambitions than Ziare ever had. I have mapped the area over the past few days and passed the information to the Warlord. All I had now to do was wait.
And I had as little patience as possible to wait, I wanted to act. To see the streets of Coruscant soaked in blood, as the most important buildings collapsing, on fire. That the unworthy lies dead on the stone of the street, and the strong and the worthy can taste the headwind of the new world, the one that leads to freedom. I asked for the time every minute and the report on when the others would arrive. I mean, the fleet.
Was I impatient? Yes! First I waited in my suite and then went out into the streets, choosing a well-covered place for myself where I could hide and easily go to the place where our troops would arrive. Soon the signal came that they had arrived. It's only a matter of minutes and I can go…
The Dark Lord of the Sith gleefully leaned in from his chair, a crooked smile filled with dark grimace and sheer malice spread across his lips as they parted from ear to ear. The Dark Side of the Force was a thick miasma, a choking cloud of ethereal hate that weighed down upon all those who stood before the Sith’ari’s presence. Objects rattled, the chamber quaked, and the glorious glasteel view of the Coruscanti skyline crackled and fractured.
The Phantom Menace revealed as he truly was, no longer hiding behind the facade of Senator of Epoch or benevolent stateman. The Elder spoke with a bellowing voice that mimicked the intensity of his terrible glare, “You are too late.”
The Dark Lord rose from his seat, his crimson senatorial robes flowing down like a wicked cloak that would brush against his feet as he stepped forth. Near-instantaneously, the yorik coral hilt of a Sith lightsaber would fall from his sleeve into the palm of his hand.
“THE JEDDDIII ARE DEAD!”
The blade crackled and hissed as it spewed forth with wretched plasma. A crimson streak blurred against the empty space between the Jedi and the Dark Lord as moved his body at unnatural speeds. A crimson cloak ripped and soared, a wavy snap of cloth that nearly hid away the impossible speed of the Eldee beneath it as he came to, emerging from the burst of speed before them with a flurry of ferocity. He whipped his saber from one to another, striking at each Jedi near him, the closer the better, a rabid hiss escaping his lips as he raged against them. His body twirled in motion, a fluid form of anger unfurled.
Each strike was swift and decisive, today the New Jedi Order would end.
Saan'an's heart dropped, eyes stretched wide with shock and horror. It all began to sink with more haste than a boulder in the ocean. A fearful half-step back heralded his aghast sputtering. This is what he had sense, wasn't it? What all the Jedi felt? This can't be happening. This can't be real. Saan'an's head oscillated with anxious speed as he stumbled another step back.
"Wh-? They-? I-?" No words would form. Hems and haws hushed, too quiet to impose themselves on the situation.
That new voice was harsh on the ears. Saan'an audibly squeaked as he flinched, winced inward to his shoulders. Abrupt, aggressive motions from the Phantom Deceiver startled the Padawan. His knees buckled, acquainting him with the ground ass-first. Hands and feet scrambled, scurrying him backward until he met one of the walls of the Senatorial Office.
Every thump of his heart resonated all the way up to his ears. He hadn't blinked since the Dark Lord's first words in his true voice. I helped him. I did this. My fault. Like a helpless child, Saan'an lingered on the verge of hysterical tears. Composure stood resolute, as much as it could, but his ducts leaked nevertheless. In what had already assumed his final moments, Saan'an wondered how he could be so easily deceived.
This what he meant. All this time, Fossk- No, that thing, meant for it to happen this way. Pitiful fear became a meek flavor of anger. Sudden burst of courage, the coward's bravery, overtook him long enough to uncouple his saber from his belt.
I have to do something. I have to fix this. I have to fight-
Once he took a good look at the revealed Dark Lord and the Jedi taken by surprise, heard the sounds of battle, courage fizzled just a quickly as it had come through the door. Saan'an was frozen, back to his feet, unable to activate his blade.
It is a time of turmoil. The senate has locked up the JEDI within the confines of their own JEDI TEMPLE. As the darkness encroaches upon this beacon of LIGHT AND SERENITY, one jedi in particular seems to be taking the looming threat in stride.
Having prepared for this very event since the day that she heard about the true identity of Kaigan Fossk — in reality DARTH SOLIPSIS — the bold JEDI ARCHVIST Aeris Lashiec sets her plans in motion to finalize the digital print of the entire index of the jedi Archive. By her side she has the equally bold JEDI SITHSPAWN Kai, a creature of the dark that she hopes — with the right influences — will be able to control who they are and act as a beacon of hope for other like them.
This story begins as they both hurry into the grand hall of the archive, tea time broken up by the inevitability of fate…
The better part of ten years had gotten behind him since Geiseric had last set foot in the heart of the galaxy. He’d hoped to return under auspicious circumstances, but the tension already apparent between the members of the Bastion Accords could be felt even by someone who stayed clear of politics like himself. It was not a fine time to be returning to Coruscant as a Jedi either. With the Jedi Order sequestered in the temple, all eyes were on them. Many across the galaxy accused the Crusaders of war crimes as well, and the armed Jedi escort of defense minister Isla Draellix
held knights supposedly responsible. Geiseric refused to justify his actions, or the actions of any of his comrades in their fight to end the depravity of the Sith. He failed no one when he left Coruscant to follow Lord Grayson. It seemed everyone around him, flowing through the halls of the Senate, was watching their words carefully. There was a silent understanding that the Galactic Alliance was on the brink of total war, something it had thus far managed to avoid as its allies bore the brunt of the war against the Sith Empire.
“Indeed, Eina,” he replied, though in his voice it was clear he didn’t share the same sentiment towards this world or the current situation as his friend. He was still getting accustomed to speaking telepathically with the Valkyrja, and now was a good time to practice as he watched the procession of dignitaries from the side of his other friend and leader, Heinrich Faust
. “Though it was not for long, and it was a long time ago. Back then the Jedi were even more fractured than today.”
He looked around the woman while he spoke to her, trying to see what people made of her. She was unlike other attendees, both in her role and her appearance. He knew she didn’t fully understand the burden laid upon her, even if it wasn’t terribly heavy. He knew she didn’t believe in the cause quite like the other crusaders… but she was a spirit of good, and they could not turn away her valued help. Geiseric even called her a friend, of which he had few. He wondered if the story he’d told after meeting her first had spread to ears outside of the Crusade. Many other crusaders had readily accepted his story that she was a boon from Ashla, some kind of avatar. He had stopped keeping track of the story when he’d learned the truth of her nature. Most others in the cause were not privy to that information, something he reckoned was a good thing. They needed hope, they needed Ashla on their side more than ever as the Dark Side grew to levels of power not seen in centuries.
The foreboding message from Dagon Kaze worried them all. Most of the crusaders were aware of the young man’s exploits in the Stygian Caldera, and Geiseric was willing to call him an authoritative voice on current matters. A common sentiment of resentment was shared by Geiseric’s comrades towards the Galactic Alliance. After so long fighting against the Sith, they chose to put their greatest asset under lock and key. As much as the Ashlan’s wished they could defeat the Brotherhood alone, they knew it simply wasn’t true. They needed the New Jedi Order more than ever.
KNIGHTFALL THE GREAT ERROR vol. I
Issue #15 - vol finale
Is it really now, is it really happening? This time, this place. So vivid, so clear, a thousand generations had seen it before. The endless cycle between Light and Dark. Solid blocks of hope and cinder collapse and crumble into nothing more than ash and cinder adrift in the wind of change. The eyes open and the nightmare is gone, except this time.
This time the nightmare only ends when the eyes shut.
Scrambling from the underground levels of the New Jedi Temple, through long-forgotten vents and passages only his few fellow peers knew, Dagon rushed to the front lines at the gates of the Temple to face the dark nightmare that had manifested into a reality. Voices of the past echoed through his mind - Ryv, Aelys, Maynard, Aeris, Loske, Auteme, Bernard, Aaran, Shaka, the list goes on and on for the few, the brave. Voices of innocence and long forsaken youth overlapping with the battle cries of the present. The future is the past.
The haunting prospects of their situation which he had shared with the Black Mynock
a few days earlier all but vanished from his mind. Replaced by the pressing surge of adrenaline and the heat of combat. Once more into the fray, once more on the precipice of death - there he found himself most alive. Fear and anxiety burned away into a propellant, fueling body and mind to act beyond their limitations, to serve as the tip of the spear and the bulwark against the encroaching evil.
The cerulean blade snap hissed to life and the raven-haired Jedi leapt from a hanging mezzanine into a sea of crimson.
<"Buy time!"> through the Jedi frequencies his voice crackled amidst the pandemonium of blades clashing. <"Buy time-- for those evacuating the young--"> a red saber swung dangerously close to his neck cutting his words in half, <"--underground. AI's linked to guide you through it.">
"On it, Sir." Arthur, the artificial intelligence, confirmed, attaching himself to the Jedi's encrypted mainframe. He would navigate the escaping Jedi through the labyrinth in the derelict lower levels of the Temple into the bowels of Coruscant if they survived.
After the answer, she looked straight at the man for a few moments. Oh! Now she wasn't as enthusiastic as she had been moments before. From the tone, she felt that Geiseric wasn't particularly happy to be here. It was then that she noticed that the man was also looking towards her. Eina turned her gaze slightly and looked at the other present; now with a grim look, her smile disappeared. Her gaze also became more strict and military, similar to her mother's.
~ I see, I'm sorry to remind you of this! ~ she closed the topic.
Yes, the woman was very different from those present. In the Netherworld, time passes differently, it was easy to imagine that she could be considered hundreds of years old. Eina saw the world differently than mortals. Last but not least, Netherworld is anything but the Realspace. For her, things really didn’t have as much weight as the ones at home. But that didn’t mean she didn’t take these tasks seriously. The Sisters may have been considered mascots, or a kind of saint who inspired them, but she was different from the other Crusaders. Geiseric also played a major role in the spread of this role.
She felt she had deceived the man, that he was still angry with her. Because of something the woman couldn’t do, and she didn’t have a chance to tell this before because they didn’t meet. Eina could still feel the shame that that Sith Lord had told him, and not the woman could do it like the others. Most of the time, she didn't even have the courage to look Geiseric's eyes, she was afraid of what she might see there. The man may have been a Jedi, but Valkyrja was afraid of possible contempt and disgust. Eina didn’t know what she should do, how she should apologize for what it was. She couldn't change that. Maybe it really would be best if she went home and stayed there.
These thoughts were interrupted by the attack. She immediately looked out the windows. Such an unexpected attack did not catch her off guard, she was used to at home, the demons always attacked the Sanctuary in a similar way. Eina hurried to Geiseric and Heinrich Faust
"We need to take the people safe and prevent the enemy from getting inside…" she said the obvious thing.
Three items laid on the ground before her, each of some sort of importance. One of the items was a token, a locket with a promise kept within. The second item was the heavy fur cloak that she had been given during her time on Midvinter. Her hand grabbed at the locket to stroke her thumb along its surface before she put it down in the cloak. The final item in her small collection was a sword. Long blade, short handle. An ornate wrapping clung to the hilt that dove into the glossy, well-kept sheath it called a home.
A deep breath filled her lungs with calm. This was the day, she could feel it in the tension that lingered in the air. It was the bitter aftertaste of a warning she had heeded ever since she first lied her way into this holding cell. She had been deemed non-threatening, but that didn’t exactly change the fact that she was still considered a Jedi by the guards, ironic as that be.
As the first siren wailed, Eyna rose from the ground and wrapped her locket in her cloak to place it on her bed. She would be back for it later. It was just a matter of if she had to dig them out or not, and that was to assume she lived.
“Once more you are willingly throwing your life away for these… Mongrels. As if they aren’t beneath you, as if I didn’t teach you better than that. Are you so short-sighted that you cannot see the futility in this rebellion of yours?”
The voice in her head, the ever present and disappointed words of father, echoed against her mind in desperation to regain the influence he had lost ever so briefly in her dreams. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. The fact that his tune had changed, that his voice was now more spiteful than anything was a fresh breath of air to a tune that had been played to death.
This wasn’t about rebellion anymore, it was about doing the right thing for better or worse. For all his brilliance her father had always been too blind to see past the tip of his own nose. Eyna might have been created to be a weapon, but she was free to choose who that weapon pointed at.
There was an unfathomable power in that. She grabbed at the sheath and hilt to expose the blade within for a moment before a grin spread on her lips. It was a good day to die.
Alarms sounded. People screamed. A rippling wave of dread and terror swept across Coruscant’s surface. War had come again to Galactic City. Even within the calming presence of the Jedi temple, it was felt.
Leon found himself running before he even knew what was going on. All he knew was that he needed to reach the hangars. He needed to get into the air, to join the fray. He needed to do something. Not even bothering to change into a flight suit, the knight sprinted down the Temple’s crowded halls.
The hangar was abuzz with activity. Measures meant to prevent Jedi from leaving the temple were being disabled as fast as possible. Ground crews rushed around, trying to fuel and arm craft. Even in the relatively minor hangar Revenant Seven had chosen to leave his starfighter in, there was clustered panic. Quickly spotting his X-wing, Leon dashed for it.
“Wait sir,” an engineer stepped between Leon and the cockpit. “You’re not ready to fly.”
“What’s stopping me?” Leon began to step around the Duro.
“You’ve got no astromech, and barely any fuel. No explosives either.”
“That’ll have to do,” Leon began climbing in.
“At least let us give you some fuel while I find you a helmet sir.”
Revenant Seven’s leg bounced anxiously while he waited. The minutes he was stuck sitting felt much longer. Each shout seemed louder, each motion slower than it was. Around a dozen ships total were in this particular hangar, none fully prepared to fight. Finally, the Duro returned with a helmet. Leon put it on, and missed what the engineer said as he closed his canopy.
Moments later, Revenant Seven was in the open air.
Shields: Powering up
She'd been sneaking through for almost half a month now. The Flex Mask disguise working to her advantage given how terrible she had been at hiding her force presence. Now she just seemed like a jedi washout instead of someone even vaguely capable as the sounds of chaos began to erupt in the whole of the place.
The mop handle clattered to the floor, the backpack pulled around to her front as she broke away and down the hall in the meantime. Finding herself a bit of free space as bodies surged towards the intrusion, she changed clothes quickly, the jumpsuit slipping off to reveal the body glove beneath as she changed into her work gear.
"Note to self, find quicker switch clothes."
She was nearly tripping as the broadcast came in over the commline in her mask, causing her to pause and rethink her goals.
Younglings always made things more difficult. And they also were the prime target for anyone moving against the jedi. She groaned, slamming the door open and sprinting down the hallway where she had last spied the little demons before. One had thrown up after a seemingly inane training day, and lunch had apparently been inhaled instead of-.
She physically gagged at the memory of cleaning that up, her boots squeaking ever so slightly as she ran down the hall to see crimson blades snapping to life. A sharp squeak of her boots and a wave of her arms had her looking between the pair before holding her hands up.
"Come on, I'm late for a test. Could you all reschedule this for anoth-" She bent backwards as a blade sizzled by her collar, eyes wide as she leaned back and pushed off their leg with a hard kick that had them fumbling backwards. "Guess not. Feth-heads."
She hissed, spying the younglings huddling together and scurrying down the hallway further on.
Shaking her head with a sigh, she didn't grab her lightsabers first, instead taking the hard light weapon and a whip. There was a curious stare as the hilt of the hard-light was tampered with briefly, either out of curiosity or of sheer audacity as the thing shifted into the form of a rapier. They scoffed, and she chuckled to her herself.
The hallway sang with anger as the three of them moved in a chaotic dance.
LORD PROTECTOR GALIDRAANI FREE STATE NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Tags: Erskine Barran
Tal and Barran, per the diplomatic norm, had answered the call to attend the meetings on Coruscant with the Bastion accords. Both were distinguished military commanders in the New Imperial Order, with both having seen extensive combat against the might of the then Sith Empire. Barran, however, was intimately familiar with the Mawite enemy; in Tal's stead, Barran had led the token Galidraani forces in combat operations with the Mawite many times. Though it were but a sideshow to the Galidraani's main struggle, the war for home was all but over, and now the Maw problem drew closer and more apparent to many in his general staff.
Still, in the moments leading up, he had found himself listening to everyone's talks and points on the matter at hand. If he had his own way, he might've just nuked the buggers on their homeworld and left it at that, but not everyone got their way and especially not-
Explosions rocked the building, and smoke blasted through the windows adjacent, sending Tal falling to the floor and into a table. Knocking the breath out of the old Galidraani man brutally, dust covering his vision as his world went black. He was soon pulled from his blissful unconsciousness and awoke to the sounds of screams and distant explosions, Willan felt his temple and examined his hand that was stained red. He looked around painfully and found Barran opposite of him.
Mug of tea still in hand, Kai stared at the holoscreen, where the word DOWNLOADING… was printed in Basic. The progress bar below it was moving, the percentage number steadily increasing...
Very, very slowly...
Kai glanced at Aeris. She was overseeing the preservation of the Temple’s archives, a task that involved saving millions of files from the library database. Kai was there to help her, but there wasn’t much he could do to speed up the tedious process of downloading every scrap of media they had onto a device that could be moved somewhere safer.
He could have helped to fend off the invading Sith, but so far none had reached the library, too busy battling the Jedi in the more densely populated wings of the Temple. Fighting hordes of Dark Siders was a prospect he was both far too excited by and much too scared of. He sipped his now-lukewarm tea without really tasting it, the action more a nervous tic to give his idle hands something to do.
Kai’s comlink crackled to life, and he heard what sounded like Dagon’s voice amid the sounds of battle. The message was garbled; something about buying time.
Muffled pounding against the barricaded doors to the library cut through the silence. They had piled Aeris’ big office desk and a few chairs and empty shelves against the room’s sole entrance, hoping it would at least buy them some time when the Sith did come. Though given that their attackers all had telekinetic powers, it probably wouldn’t do much to stop them.
He said he would be here. He gave his word he would honor Romi Jade
's request and support her efforts here. This may be against the general wishes of the Council, but this was his decision and he spoke only for himself. This was personal for him and while "attachments" are the first concern of those who cling to the Ashla or "The Light Side", but he was a different story. That was why he was here, Errik Nimdok
and Aayla Shan
were addressing the Senate, and originally he was going to as well, but his feelings on the matter could be misconstrued. There were Force Sensitive Senators, and if his initial concern about something sinister going down could be sensed if he were not careful.
So he was here at the Temple. There was a rather large guard contingent "escorting" him around the areas that he was allowed to visit. The Jedi were, after all, "persona-non-grata" in many parts of the Temple itself. This was something that Caltin had thought to be completely ridiculous and made way into those areas anyway. Those who would try to link this to the actions of the Silver Jedi Concord were not around, and he could feel those who would abuse the Bogan, or "Dark Side" planning something and it was coming to fruition soon. It could happen, but it won't be successful...
... not if he had something to say about it.
The more he pressed into the Temple, the more opposition he was getting, but Caltin's reason for this was not to give the guards any real grief but to root out who was going through with this. If not that, to at least find where the other Jedi were. Did they still have the passageway into the tunnel system below? Did the Senate know about this? Right now, the big guy couldn't answer any of these questions. So he continued what he did best, he pushed forward, right into the Great Hall.
“With respect, Master Jedi. You were told you are not authorized to be in here.”
Caltin wasn’t hearing it. Oh, he heard what the Senate-Guard Captain had said, but he just was not accepting of the statement. The New Jedi Order was not being confined, they were being held, imprisoned, and it was unlawful. No, this was not some attempt at a coup or a breakout, Caltin was not being combative at all; the officer had a job to do. However, he was going to walk where he was going to walk and give those who were here to speak on behalf of the NJO their time. The big guy planned on speaking as well, but he knew he would be a distraction until then, so he walked…
… where he wasn’t allowed.
Respectfully, Captain, we’re in the Great Hall. Probably the most public and common of the public and common areas of the Jedi Temple. I mean, have you not been here before?
“Well… no, I am a transfer from the Southwestern district.” The Captain responded, having lived most of his life there.
Can’t you feel the history in this place? Almost three thousand years… generations upon generations of Jedi walking these very paths. It’s inspiring.
As Caltin looked around like a tourist with a camera or a kid in a candy store(as he always did when walking through the Coruscant Temple), some of the guards were losing patience. While the Captain may or may not be a little laxer in his concern about a Jedi walking through a Jedi Temple, he had to exert his authority and show leadership.
“That’s all well and good, but I’m afraid I must insist.” As the Captain tried to grab the large forearm of the much larger Jedi, three… make that four of the guards stepped in his way. Caltin wanted to walk right through them, and almost did, but let out a tiny sigh before slowly pulling his arm away.
No need to be aggressive. Before we do anything, may I ask you a question, Captain?
“I don’t see why not.” A little caught off guard as he, and his subordinates were expecting a fight, the officer backed off a little.
Thank you. Take a look at the mural to your right. Do you see the Jedi in the painting the many rows of them? The Nautolan with the smile as wide as his face in the second. Would you let him walk through this gathering space?
“Master Jedi, that is Master Kit Fisto. A legendary Jedi of the infamous Clone Wars, and member of the Jedi Council of the time. He would provide little reason to be turned away, if any, regardless of the situation.” The Captain responded.
Okay, and what about the Iktochi next to him, or the Twi’Lek once moreover, or the Togruta?
Some of the guards were again losing patience. The Captain may have had respect, but they did not seem to, or at least what they had was going away.
“With respect, I do not see what naming Saesee Tiin, Ayla Secura, or Shaak’Ti have to do with you being in here.” The Captain was losing patience as he failed to see the point in this. “Are you going to ask me about Master Kenobi next to them, Master Windu next to him? Or Master Yoda in front of them all?” A few of the guards chuckled.
Caltin even smiled.
No, I am going to ask you about the man standing behind them in the third row though.
Once the Captain looked, his eyes flickered back and forth between the massive Jedi Master and the mural a few times before locking onto it. This caught the attention of several guardsmen who looked on as well only to need to lift their jaws from the floor.
“Son of a...”
“It can’t be...”
It’s a long story, but it is… and yes…
The Captain did not back off from his statement, however, as he still had a job to do and the Jedi was still in the wrong area.
“I go back to my original statement though as this changes nothing.”
Now Caltin was losing patience. He didn't want to make the statement that he was about to, but it seemed necessary. The guards were not getting it, and while they were doing their job and following orders well enough, he had a job of his own to do. Especially since he could sense what was coming.
Captain. I am part of a delegation from the Silver Jedi Concord. I am a member of the Jedi Council. If I am going to speak in front of the Senate, I need to be fully informed of the situation. I need to be able to give the most informed rebuke or confirmation of the charges being brought on the New Jedi Order. Would it not be fair if I was not allowed this? Would it not go against due process and the very rights that are given to all under the Senate’s very rules that are afforded to all Galactic Alliance citizens?
Are they not Galactic Alliance citizens? You call of them to protect you when you need them the most, you treat them like treasured sons and daughters in the time of strife. Why are you not looking at them the same way any other time?
There were some who were angered by his questioning, but some had their eyes opened.
“Master Jedi. What if they are guilty of those crimes?” The Captain had to ask a fair question.
Then they will have to face them. However, this is not helping.
Caltin said gesturing around.
This is pouring fuel on a fire. You’re only serving to push away your safety net.
An explosion rocked open the main doors from the courtyard as shock-troops came pouring in and opening fire on anything or anyone not of the Sith, Sith Eternal, Brotherhood of the Maw, or anyone not of their ilk or close to it. Several of the Senate-Guard were cut down brutally, but just as many, if not more were able to jump to cover points.
Caltin? He stood there, Conservator in hand drawing fire, blocking every shot and redirecting several of them back. More importantly…
Why was he so angry? He was in a moment. A moment like many in the past. A moment where something was being taken from him, and he was tired. Tired of losing those who he cared about. Tired of losing those links to all that he once knew. Tired of slowly losing everything that made him who he was. It may have been over eight hundred-fifty years since he could say that he called this Temple “home”, but it was still his. He was not losing this.
Jax sensed a great disturbance in the force something, an awful feeling that nearly sent him to his knees. The Jedi dropped his Lightsaber stumbling towards the window. Jax gasped at what he saw, his heart nearly stopped the entire temple was surrounded by what appeared to be.... Sith? Jax knew that they weren't going down without a fight but this was a bold move considering how scattered they were or perhaps it was something that the Sith wanted the GA and NJO to think. Deception was the way of the Sith after all, it was the perfect plan retreat to the shadows and allow the GA to handle their internal affairs especially regarding the Jedi's questionable decisions during the war. Then while the Jedi were trapped under house arrest in the Temple strike. It was the perfect plan and something that Jax and some of the Jedi predicted would happen.
"Opportunistic bastards," Jax mumbled gripping his Lightsaber. "Boy I hate being right all the time."
An explosion briefly shook the training room as his comms were blaring, Dagon Kaze was giving out orders to protect any fleeing younglings and to buy time. Taking the comlink Jax held it close to his mouth now wasn't the time to dwell on these turn of events, it was time to take action to defend the weak and the innocent. The NJO may be looked down upon but they are still Jedi sworn to defend. "Roger that!" Jax yelled. "To any Jedi nearest to the training room, this is Jedi Knight: Jax Thio give me your coordinates and I'll meet you there!"
Wasting little time, Jax ran out of the training room hoping that somebody heard his call. "Let's give our Sith friends a warm welcome," he mumbled to himself immersed in The Force.
Things had been quite tense between Geiseric and Eina since she rescued him from the Sith over Tiss-sharl, where he'd learned of her true origin: The daughter of a Sith Lord and a dictator. He wanted to tell her that he could forgive her, or at least tolerate her position given all she'd done for him. He knew they'd talk about it eventually, but broaching the subject was beyond Geiseric's interpersonal skill, so he remained quiet and pensive.
The Knight who had warned them all had been right. There was a feeling he just couldn't shake, a feeling of a powerful and nauseating darkness like he'd felt on Korriban and during his imprisonment thereafter. He wanted to believe those months in chains had strengthened him against these feelings, but perhaps not. His doubts about this war had not yet been quelled.
As he stood stoically, the polite atmosphere of the Senate building was broken by a woman's scream from down the hall. More screams of horror followed in quick succession. The crusader broke from his post and sprinted to the nearest window around the corner of the hall. A small crowd of politicians amassed at the window with shocked expressions, holding one another close, hands trembling to cover their gasps at the sight of the nightmare outside. The sky was blackened by the dreadful armada of the Brotherhood hanging above Galactic City. Smoke billowed up to meet them from the Jedi Temple in the distance. The Force was dark and miasmic all around them.
"Were it so easy," he answered telepathically as to avoid alarming the crowd even more, "no evacuation is getting through that fleet, and this building is not as defensible as you would think." the sudden situation wracked his mind.
He looked back out over the skyline as things rapidly declined and blaster fire filled the air coming from every direction. One object of note caught his eye and sent his heart racing into overdrive. A stray Maw shuttle, small but deadly and engulfed in thick black smoke, spiraled towards the Senate. Whether by some twisted providence or by the pilot's frantic course correction, the ship barrelled through the air on a path towards them.
"Stand clear!" he yelled over the crowd and pointed to the incoming suicide attack. The politicians dispersed into a mad dash away from the window. As the ship made the final stretch towards the building, Geiseric reached his hands forward, out through the force, and gripped it. He couldn't slow its descent, nor could he throw it from its volatile course. In a last ditch effort, he brought his hands down hard and swung the nose of the shuttle downwards, crashing it into one of the floors directly below. The explosion rocked him, and the floor that his feet were on began to waver as the support beam below had been obliterated.
Geiseric took three careful strides backwards, watching as the window and the segment of wall before him crumbled and fell out, leaving the acrid smoke and and sound of death out in the city to fill the hallway.
He unhooked his lightsaber from his belt and held it firmly, but didn't yet activate it. In the time since the Battle of Korriban he'd tried to suppress thoughts of his old lightsaber, the one the Sith had stolen from him ignobly when they'd taken him captive. He hated to think that one of them could still be wielding it, having bled and sullied its once pious azure blade. He gripped the rosary around his neck in his left hand while he gazed down at the saber in his right. He wouldn't let it happen again, and he would die with this blade in his hand before the Sith could claim victory over him.
"We need to find the defense minister," he said aloud to Eina, having become aware they had been seperated from the rest of the group when the attack began. "Ashla forbid anything has happened to her... or the other leaders."