Invasion The Other Side of Peace | GA Invasion of TSE's Ziost/Tiss'sharl

[Taeli Raaf]

​

Location: Sorzus Academy of Sith Arts
Objectives: Welcome the guests of honor
Allies: Darth Daiara Alina Tremiru Laertia Io Darth Strosius Lark Karina Lowe Darth Tigran Aeric Kaze Calruss Shiman Calin Harr
Enemies: Auteme Jend-Ro Quill Dagon Kaze Mrurh'en'lase | Hel Zark San Tekka Takui Darth Kentarch Aaran Tafo Creuat Asmundr Varobalder

Equipment: In signature

Amethyst eyes opened from their meditation, their color swiftly changing to amber. She could feel them, some familiar, others not as much. The Jedi had come to Ziost, come to the academy she had founded to further research into the dark side. It was a noble mission; study what had come before, then push the boundaries of sorcery and alchemy beyond anything their forefathers had created. They had been hamstrung by the technology of their day, but in this modern age, progress had been made. Much of it had come from here in the recent years since the academy began, catering only to the most advanced students in the arts and attracting the best alchemists and sorcerers within the Empire as instructors.

And now the Jedi had come to destroy it all.

She felt affronted, but she wasn't surprised. These Jedi had all become that which they claimed they were not; zealots only interested in purging and destruction. No cost was too high as long as they could end their hated enemies, eliminate the darkness once and for all. But their actions only served the darkness. Every act of war only made the shadows stronger, and even if the Empire was shattered, the Sith would scatter, slink into the shadows, evolve again. The cycle had been repeating for millennia, and would continue for millennia more no matter the efforts of either side. It was all about Balance. Today, however, she was going to make them pay dearly for attacking this place.

The Jedi might be wondering where the older students were, the instructors. Only younger acolytes, those not already moved to Horizon Station in deep space, had been in the lower halls and only a few companies of Sith troopers had offered resistance. A chime would play across the academy grounds and through the building, one that anyone who lived in the academy would know.

"Welcome Jedi of the New Jedi Order to the Sorzus Academy," the female voice would echo. "At this school, we strive to unlock and progress the arts of sorcery and alchemy, to further understand the very nature of the dark side. The faculty and staff of the academy do not accept students of the light side orientation. You will be removed from this school, from this world."

Dormant until their Master's touch, the defenses of the academy would begin to stir. The Sithspawn encounter by Zark would only be the first, but it was by far no means the most dangerous here. Statues, tucked away into alcoves for veneration, started to move, drawing lightsabers from within their depths. Demonic alterations to the terentatek would emerge from their hibernation chambers. Canine mutations of the vornskr and Sith Leviathans would start to roam the halls, tracking the signatures of the hated light to consume. The library and corridors moaned with darkness as shades and spirits of Sith, both long dead and those of students that had failed and been enslaved to protect the school, materialized.

From the tallest towers of the academy, the language of the Sith would start echoing across the mountains, a chant to weave a spell. Dark clouds began to form above, the beginnings of a massive undertaking. And in the deepest chambers, Taeli herself sat, the Zeffo astrium stolen from Kashyyyk resting on the throne within the Shrine of Jen'jidai, runes painted in red decorating its surface... and she began to chant.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

Equipment: Armour, Rifle, Gas Grenades, Sidearm 1, Sidearm 2, Sabre, Ion Paddle Beamer, Cryo-Ban Gun.
Romi Jade

The sounds of battle echoed in these ruins, though they were faint. If one paid attention, one could perceive the scarlet beams that were raining down upon the city and Sith installations. These had been fired by the Sith. It was the type of macabre twilight their kind was known for. Before long, many new ghosts would have joined the countless spectres that already haunted this world. They would amplify the darkness that permeated the ruins. Ziost was, after all, a world seeped in blood, both innocent and otherwise.

It was dark in these ruins - both metaphysically and physically. The Force was strong here, but it was twisted and tainted. Each Force-User, it was said, had their own perception of the Force. Some likened it to say a spideweb, music or a well. If one were to ask Enyo what she saw, then she would say that she saw it as a giant clock, ticking away until the end of time. Nations rose and fell, and the clock kept ticking.

She would be there when the clock finally hit midnight and the universe died - and she with it. Then there would be peace. Until that day, existence was defined by strife. Taking advantage of the darkness that hung over the ruins and her armour's stealthiness, she had quietly made her way through the labyrinthe. Her cloaking device shrouded her.

It was difficult for her to sense distant presences here, but she had her sensors and scanners to compensate and her electronic eyes could see just fine in the dark. She heard the Jedi before she felt the power of the Light emanate from her from physical sight, while her Force presence was - for now - buried. Her steps were light and quiet.

The Light bursting from this Jedi organic was uncomfortable. It targeted the sensations Darksiders commonly drew power from. But Enyo was more machine than Dark Jedi. Rage, hatred - such raw emotions were, for the most part, wasteful. Her Force use was as cold as her judgements calls. And her quarry was not directly targeting her at the moment, but seemed intent on cleansing this place or at least mitigating the ability of Sith to use it as a power source. The flare of metaphysical energy rippling from the Jedi told Enyo a few things about her though. The Jedi clearly had a lot of power to throw around.

While the Jedi cast, she sought cover behind a fallen pillar. One mechanical, gauntlet-covered hand wrapped around a gas grenade and tossed it towards the Jedi. This grenade was loaded with Ixetal cilona gas. When inhaled, the gas produced a few minutes of euphoria, and it could greatly weaken a Force-Sensitive's connection to the Force for a few hours. An accelerator chip would cause the grenade to explode if it suddenly changed direction, due to say telekinetic deflection. An explosion could also cause some damage from shrapnel.

Furthermore, an integrated Taozin nodule would make it difficult to sense via the Force, as it blurred and clouded Force senses. Not impossible of course, but difficult. Enyo was not worried about inhaling the gas. Even if her armour had not been not sealed, she did not breathe. As the small object travelled through the air, she raised her rifle and fired. The weapon in question was a bolter.

Two explosive bolts leapt out of the rifle. The shots were aimed towards the Jedi's feet. That would make dodging a bit difficult. These were not blaster bolts or slugs, but explosive warheads that exploded on impact - any impact. In short, if you tried to block them with a lightsabre, deflect them with telekinesis or stop them with a Force-based shield, they would go boom, producing a powerful blast wave and a cloud of shrapnel with a wide radius.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Location: Sorzus Academy of Sith Arts
Objective: Defend the Academy, Put down the heretic threat, Recover the prisoners
Tags: Alina Tremiru / Aaran Tafo
Allies: TSE
Enemies: GA / NJO
-----------------------------------------------------

The lower levels were darkened by now, from a mixture of rerouting power to other places as well as the fact that prisons were generally dark places so long as the prisoners were in their cells. Alisteri had no doubt that the darkness only served to help wear down the psyche of whatever poor prisoner was held here. For a moment, he almost pitied those that were in these cells.

That was of course, until he realized that there were a couple of empty cells.

Chit.

He ignited his sabre, the red glow of the blade being one of the few sources of light in the hallway that he was in as he inspected the empty cells. Well this complicated things. Because of course there is more than one cell empty.

Muttering curses under his breath, he was quick to tap on his commlink to try and contact Alina Tremiru to tell her the news. ":Alina if you can hear me, I'm seeing a couple of empty cells over here. I'll track them down, you handle that one prisoner on your own okay?:" He had barely finished the message by the time one of the escapees decided to make themselves known.

Out of the darkness behind the acolyte, one of the escaped prisoners leapt upon Alisteri. With their shirt in their grip, they quickly brought it over the head of their opponent and attempted to both knock down the Sith and choke him at the same time.

Now many people don't know this, and you might be surprised to learn this, but surprising an acolyte who already has their sabre drawn is a very bad idea. Especially when you have no weapon of your own.

Although he was stunned and knocked to the ground, the masked man was very quick on the rebuttal. With one swift movement he lodged the blade of his weapon straight through the prisoner's head, throwing the corpse off of him as he scrambled to his feet. In the distance he could hear the unmistakable sound of someone running away, back towards the way that he had come.

Chit!

The acolyte then went on the run, eager to pursue the other escapee before they got out of the upper levels. With any luck, he wouldn't run into one of the other acolyte groups along the way. Otherwise he would never live this down.

 

[Alli Vern]

TSE and Allies: Telis Taharin-Zambrano | Alli Vern Ingrid L'lerim
GA and NIO: Aerarii Tithe | Brama Tagge | Gat Tambor | The Executive | Enlil | Otto Shule | Marlon Sularen

​

Alli Vern was here, sitting besides the Empress. She honestly didn't know who Marlon Sularen was, she had seen the name in some old briefs but the man was inconsequential to her. She listened to them all they made good points. She honestly didn't know much about the Sith empire. She was at a loss in that perspective. She saw why the Empress brought up betrayal, because in bus the basis of all business was trust. If people acted in bad faith then what was the point of any business agreement. She stared at the man that last she spoke to was a senator but was now vice chancellor. It seemed he had moved up in the world. She looked around and didn't speak. She couldn't believe the disrespect they had shown their side so far. The Empress had not spoken wrong, An System that rewarded individuals who betrayed others, well there was no incentive not to. This whole situation was strange, they stood before a league trying to convince them to stay or leave the empire. Finally she decided to speak.

"I am Alli Vern, I am the elected representive of the Zweihander Union. While I am sure that the GA, and NIO, have the best interest for you. Empress Ingrid, spoke the truth. If a government that appears to reward betrayal reaches out to make a deal with you, then it is your position to recognize that you will be met with the same. Any deal here is only as valid as the whims of the government you fall under. While the Sith have their way, you have all gotten rich off of them. You know what makes you credits under them. Chances are the moment the proposed free market hits, your share of the market on this world will be inundated with off world corporations. You will be cut off from Sith lines of business by the fact that the GA has cut trade with and thus as part of them you can no longer do business with anyone in the Sith Empire. Without the government contracts that you have thrived on thus far or even your Sith area's of business, you will fall and fall fast and soon be relics of a bygone era unless you are prepared to change with the times. Ready to hit the ground running creating new business to fill the void, hoping that your rainy day fund has enough to last you through the change. That seems like quite the gamble to make. Unless the GA and NIO is ready to offer you funds and other aide packages to tide you through the switch, I would be hesitant to side with them. "

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

the M I S T R E S S
M A L C O N T E N T​

FOCUS: Jax Thio
​

Pom did not let the Force guide her, as the confused jedi do; rather she controls it. It is those whom she trapped such as the souls of those she murdered, and those whom she received into willing servitude to her, who offer guidance. They are Jinn, and demons, also the protections of her ancestors.

She heard the murderous jedi blurt his exclamation upon sight of her and her handmaids. Her lip curled in a twinge of disgust as she called out to her challenger, "I always felt we had a special chemistry between us, you and I." She stood focussed on him, studying his movements. "I knew you'd return for more."

The Anubian Sand Demons towered over the heads of the enemy.

Swipe at them.
Stab at them.
They will just reclaim their form from the sand upon the ground.
Go ahead jedi.
Exhaust your energy.

The splendid creations turned their heads signifying their attention has fallen onto the infestation which calls itself the Galactic Alliance…and its bully jedi. Galactic just another term intended to insult the rest of the non-conforming populace, signifying segregation and superiority over everyone else. Truly just a small sector in a far more vast "Galaxy," a Galaxy which the Sith shall bring to peace!

Pom's pet spoke, rendering sounds from shifting sands rubbing against itself. "Anathema," is all it declared, while together the beings whipped up sharp tiny cubes of the ancient glass, spinning them into a tight rotation. It might not seem frightening, but with one flick of the demon's wrist the sand was meticulously managed and brought upward and stretched outward to bore into the fine seams of the face shields worn by those on the front lines. Chemical weapons, and maybe a little awareness of how potions ensnare one's senses, the face shield makes for a fine security measure for such things…unless the potion eats right through it, or this happens…

Their helmets were breached by the sand, then the sand bore into the eyes and nostrils of those targeted on the front lines. After their initial exclamation of surprise, these soldiers were rendered unable to cry out, although their deaths were most certainly excruciating, the sinus and lungs packed with sand.

Pom studied the reaction of her target.

The jedi always is the first to attack!

"I always thought we bring out the best aspects of one another," she added, with a sly smirk.​

 

[Zark San Tekka]

SORZUS ACADEMY
Equipment: Jedi Armor, Comlink, Star Compass, Crossguard Saber, Glie-44
Allies: Galactic Alliance
Dagon Kaze Creuat Takui Mrurh'en'lase | Hel Aaran Tafo Okkeus Dainlei
Enemies: The Sith Empire
Karina Lowe (engaging) Laertia Io Aeric Kaze Lark Darth Daiara Darth Strosius Alina Tremiru

Master San Tekka ascended the Academy's central structure while a disembodied voice that could only belong to Taeli Raaf welcomed the New Jedi Order to her domain. He could sense young Dagon but the darkside clouded any sense of direction. This place was heavy with corruption. The Sith Eternal's deluded interpretations of art and understanding horrified him. Abominable mutant nightmares. Twisted spirits chained to this world and enthralled in eternal torment.

He paused. Opening his mind to the Force allowed him to sense something else. Something underneath the darkness. It was a presence he had not felt since...then it was gone. Whatever business Jend-Ro Quill had on Ziost seems to have been concluded. Zark began to wonder if it was just his imagination. Something perhaps worth looking into if he made it off this planet alive.

Between his old wounds from Korriban and storming the Great Hall, a few moments of healing restored only enough vitality to keep him in the fight. His damaged Jedi warplate was not as cumbersome as shock trooper armor but it did restrict some of his movement. He wore a simple officer's greatcoat around it which also bore fresh scorch marks. In the Jedi Master's hand there was an ornate crossguard saber hilt kept deactivated for now. So far his encounters with the Academy's unleashed defenses had been brief and mostly avoidable but he knew that was not bound to last.

"Stronger resistance than we first expected," San Tekka tried to relay over the Galactic Alliance battlenet, "Possible Dark Council presence on site. We're still holding the Great Hall but there have been some...complications."

Only interference crackled over his comlink in reply. He could not be sure if his transmissions were still getting through. Even the Jedi's senses were afflicted. Zark felt movement nearby and barely had time to conceal himself behind a marble pillar before a team of Sith-Imperial operatives materialized from the shadows. Focused beams of soft light played across ostentatious architecture clouded in gloom.

Now that he knew they were here Master San Tekka could clearly sense their minds.

"Over here."

Each whisper seemed to come from a different place. He used a mind trick to produce additional illusory flashes of movement on the fringes of the soldiers' perception. Waiting and hoping that at least one of them would isolate themselves, Zark prepared to strike.

 

[Otto Shule]

Outer Rim Territories // Xappyh Sector // Tiss'Sharl.
Tiss'Sharl League Chambers.
Mid-Afternoon // Galactic Standard Time.
Dressed to Kill.​

:// NO MORE STRINGS <<​

To say that tensions within the League’s Chamber were palpable was an understatement. While my perceptions were fundamentally limited by the technology I was wrought from, subtle signs were there for my optics to discover. While it was true that I was the furthest thing from a telepath, I spent many years learning to read a person’s body language. It all centred around how a person held themselves in a conversation, as their bodies would betray them in ways that would behoove even their conscious mind.​

So, as one side chided the other in ways that would embarrass even the most experienced politician on the Senate floor, I sat in relative silence. There wasn’t anything that I could add to flavour the discussion in any positive light. Was I to cite the countless battles that the Sith Empire has lost, stating that Warships made by Republic Engineering led the way? Such foolishness would get us nowhere, mostly when the Empress of the Eternal Empire was on the verge of hysterics.​

Such words would not only fall on deaf ears but would likely force the Tiss’Sharl to adopt isolationists policies. I couldn’t blame them if that was the path they wished to take. When both your alleged leaders and those approaching you with an olive branch decided to make the discussion about themselves? There was little room for the people hosting the event. Thus, they would feel like this entire affair was merely a platform to bring the conflict engulfing the northern reaches to their doorstep.​

That was something I wouldn’t allow. We were here to offer a lucrative opportunity to the League and bring the Tiss’Sharl back into the galactic markets. So, as one Envoy after another spoke, I waited patiently for my chance to speak. One leg was draped over another as my synthetic hands folded themselves together in my lap. It was a calculated gesture, as it would put forth the air that I was wholly invested in the conversation at hand - despite the offered spectacle. When my time finally came, I roused myself from the cushioned chair with measured ease, as there wasn’t a need to rush. ​

I began to address our honoured hosts, straightening my blazer with a gentle tug and offering nods to each of the delegates. “Honoured Representatives of the League,” I began with a polite nod to each of the members sitting at the proverbial head of the discussion table. “Lady Vern does raise an excellent point that I wish to broach. Having your corporate ties cut with the Sith Empire will be a terrible blow to your economy, to be sure. But, it’s a blow that your world - along with the rest of the Corporate Sector - can easily recover from once severed.” ​

I paused as one of the League members cocked a curious eyebrow. “As this terrible civil war engulfs the northern reaches of the Outer Rim, the rest of the galaxy has entered an uncommon period of prosperity. In losing the support of one crumbling Empire, you will gain the attention of many worlds outside Sith-Imperial borders. Perhaps even the many interstellar nations that populate the stars after that. With envoys from the Alliance and the Order being the first to show their faces here, who’s to say that we’ll be the last?”​

“Now, I do not wish to devolve to childish barbs about which side is right or wrong in their cause.” There was another pause here as I straightened my synth-woven tie. This time, it wasn’t to get a read on the League members but rather to make a point. Politics had little place at the negotiation table. “But, I wish to showcase the benefits that Tiss’Sharl and her people stand to gain should these cede from the Empire. The first and most prominent is that your people will no longer be worried about the Sith-Imperial Credit’s poor performance or the Autarch’s unsustainability on the galactic market. I’m sorry to say, but the currency has little value outside the Empire. Leaving any would-be foreign investors worried that their investments would become war spoils or liquidated in favour of serving the needs of the state.”​

“I’m sure that your craftsman would appreciate their works having more local flavour than being press-ganged to produce arms and armour.”​

My hands, once busy with straightening my appearance as I spoke, were now folding themselves behind my back. The stance was confident, but I refused to allow my attention to fade from the League members.​

“While profitable in war, as Republic Engineering can undoubtedly attest to, what products your factories belch out have no artistry, nor local flavour. Everything they produce becomes the same as the other worlds assigned to this monumental task of keeping the war machine turning in the face of adversity. Like many of the soldiers we outfit, our craft becomes faceless, which doesn’t appeal to the galactic market. I do not wish to insult your intelligence or the skills of your artisans, but when I say that variety is the spice of life - I truly mean it.”​

It was here that I withdrew a hand from behind my back. I gestured towards the Vice-Chancellor and others of the Alliance delegation with an open palm and tightly pressed fingers.​

“That is the opportunity that this delegation is offering you. The choice to do with your future what you will, and to do so without the fear of retribution. Not only that, but we didn’t just come here with pretty words to sway your opinion. It would’ve been foolish for us to participate in this discussion without having something to bring to the table. While our offers may vary from one institution to the next, I can assure you that they are - as always - negotiable.” I said with a winning smile.​

“The people of Tiss’Sharl deserve only the best that we can offer.”
​

​

| Aerarii Tithe | Brama Tagge | Gat Tambor | Enlil | The Executive | Marlon Sularen |
| Ingrid L'lerim | Alli Vern | Telis Taharin-Zambrano |​

 

[Lark]

Allies: TSE
Enemies: GA, Takui

The two blades met with the amiability of a drunk man's fist. No pleasantries, no banter prior to battle. Lark's brother had declared that this man sought to ensnare the lost in a web of burning light that they could not escape. The Jedi's motives might be pure, just misguided. But he could not afford to let one who would eradicate the dark, such an essential aspect of the galaxy, have his way. Where else would the furtive outcasts have to live, if the dark were to become extinct? His face was impassive, emotionless. But he felt that little gem of hate growing inside of him. Who was this man to rip away all that the abandoned had left for them? Who was he to decide what was best for the people he knew nothing about? And then, he felt hatred for the entities that turned the young man's mind into what is was. The two appeared to be of nearly the same age, and yet stood on opposite sides of the spectrum of the force. One for the dark, the other for the light. Perhaps one was right, the other wrong. Perhaps the both held varying degrees of the truth. But only the dark would preserve Lark's family, and those with nothing left for them.

It was all that had ever been offered to ones such as he.

The baneful glow of Lark's lightsaber cast a scarlet silhouette on his pale skin, though his gaze was as cold as the tundra outside. "The dark offers freedom to those the light has deemed unworthy," Lark said, muscles straining as the Jedi sought to push him backwards. But he held firm, keeping an eye on the box that his brother had directed him towards. "To those forsaken dregs, left behind by those who once promised to save them. Those left in misery and despair, those who took solace in nightmares because they were less terrifying than their days spent in the waking world. You continue to cast your judgement on us. We've bore so much worse than your snide denunciations. Condemn me. Curse me. Mock me. All the while, I'll fight to protect what I've come to hold dear. What I've come to love."

The specter of Lark's brother walked towards him, if the Jedi could see him he made no motion what would indicate so. His eyes were so dark, blacker than the emptiest void of space. An unknowable as the most abyssal ocean. And yet the same kindness that lingered within him as a child was still present. Lark's brother embraced him, hands held around his waist and forehead pressed against his temple. Lark shed a single tear, wishing that he could hug his brother back. Even if his form was but a shadow. He had felt that warm nuzzle so many times as a child, his brother's cradle and his sister's laugh were the only things that could soothe his fearful soul.

Please, his brother pleaded. All you need to do is open that box.

Lark took a step back, holding his blade firm but eyeing the strange cube once more. Was it really that simple? After so many years of searching, did it really come down to opening a box? For hardly more than a moment, the cynic in him took over. It was never as easy as this. He had accepted that he might need to turn the galaxy inside out in order to reunite his family. The whispers faded ever slightly, though his brother's form somehow stood the same as it did before. Lark managed to spare a single look towards his brother, whose embrace suddenly felt more real.

Don't...

And then the whispers reemerged. Lark's brother phased in and out of existence, as though he were being erased by something else entirely. He said some words that Lark could not hear, and Lark felt as though something was stopping him from hearing them.

His brother vanished, wisped away into nothing but a memory. But Lark still felt his warm, comforting presence. His brother had advocated for the opening of the box. If that could reunite Lark with his family, he would rupture the fabric of reality to make it happen. With a sudden push, Lark attempted to push the Jedi padawan backwards, to create some space between them. Right after, Lark would dive towards the box, ghastly hand extended to pry it from its mantle and unlock the salvation within.

He felt his hand grasp the lacquered wood.

Please, let me save them.

 

[Auteme]

Lucien Dooku Kisaku Oroken Darth Carnifex ​

"KISAKU!"

She was too slow. He was knocked back. The sound of his saber clattering to the ground filled the silence after the lightning had crackled away. Her eyes stayed on Carnifex. He knew. It'd been on purpose. He'd shot that lightning at Kisaku knowing he didn't have the means to stop it.

And she'd been too slow.

"Snap out of it, Auteme."

"Kisaku needs you to be strong."

"I need you."
​

She managed to hold onto the Light she'd built up as Lucien had engaged Carnifex; only barely. Lucien's words, as caring as they were, weren't enough. She could only hold on because she had nothing else she could do. It was only desperation. What would she do without it? What else was she? Tears started to fill her eyes.

There had to be something she could do with it. Her first instinct was to heal Kisaku, but she couldn't turn away. She couldn't leave Lucien; she couldn't leave herself. Her mind became split. She held onto the Light for dear life.

Even as the stress tore at her mind, she forced her body to move, bringing her hands up. Her power split: First to Kisaku, where the Light enveloped him. It was a soft, warm cushion in this dark place, healing his injuries and warding the darkness.

The rest went to Carnifex. It came close to him, then seemed to spread outwards; a wide barrier pushing against the Sith Lord. She knew the wards on his armor protected him from the Light, but if she used it to push rather than purge, she might be able to keep him at bay long enough for them to prepare themselves.

Whatever good that preparation would do them remained to be seen.

 

[Takui]

Taku reeled back when the Sith shoved him. "That's what you think this is?" Taku all but screamed. "You've been disparaged by hardship in your life, so you look for a scapegoat in the light? If you turn your eyes from the warmth, you'll never find it! Of course you won't!"

The Padawan threw himself forward, his lightsaber swiping across wardingly. He stretched out his free hand, seeking purchase on the box. Taku couldn't just let the Sith loose whatever lay dormant within. It couldn't be made to serve evil. It had to be his... to belong to the Light.

Wait... why do I want it?

For a moment, Taku found himself filled with doubt. In that instant, he hadn't wanted simply to open the box. The boy told himself that it had to belong to him. He justified that with the Light...

No. It doesn't matter. He can't be allowed to have it.

Power coalesced around the ancient item as he got a hand on it, and the box resonated. Neither man had control, and Taku could feel puppet strings tugging at his fingertips. His hand was moving all on its own.

Ziost must be free. Freedom. Free the world, free its people...

Taku looked at the crimson haired Acolyte with fire burning in his own gaze. He pulled at the top, struggling against the other man to be the first to open the promised artifact.

Please, let them be free.

With their combined strength, the box gave. In a unified effort between darkness and light, the top slid free. They were both of them deceived.

For a moment, the world became quiet.

In the next heartbeat, eldritch power erupted forth. Green miasma spewed from the container and profane light ripped skyward, tearing through the ceiling. Energy blasted outward, flinging both Takui and Lark toward the walls.

No one would be saved.

No one would be free.

Instead, the box sought to dominate them all in darkness.

Lark

ATTENTION, EVERYONE ON ZIOST

BAD JUJU HAS BEEN INVOKED​

 

[Darth Kentarch]

OPERATION CLEANSING FIRE
Ziost Sorzus Academy
WEAPONS: LIGHTSABER | NIGHTFALL | DUSKFALL
ALLIES: GA
ENEMIES: TSE | Taeli Raaf
​

Of all the places in the Sith Empire, Kentarch found the Sorzus Academy was the easiest to infiltrate. The 'Trail of Ascension' was more of a relaxing climb then a physical feat, and the sithspawn and statues were designed to hunt the lightsiders, not a rogue Sith Lord like Kentarch. Although it took some time to travel from New Adasta, especially with the Jedi and Galactic Alliance forces now arriving. His trip to the academy had taken longer than expected.

While Kentarch and the Jedi were mutual enemies of the Sith Empire, the Sith would be still be seen as an enemy in the eyes of most Jedi. Thus as he reached the entrance, the Sith kept to the shadows and maneuvered himself with much finesse around the various combatants. Using force cloak, Kentarch was able to pass into and move through the Great Hall with ease. The Sith archivist Kentarch interrogated earlier had cracked, spilling his secrets as Kentarch spilled his blood. Given his skills in stealth and infiltration, and the fact he knew the academy's layout, shortcuts, and secret passages the archivist provided. He would be able to get anywhere in the Academy he needed within a few minutes.

However, the Sith's advance would stop at the sound of the Lady of Secrets voice echoing through the hall.

Kentarch cursed under his breath. The monstrosities of the academy came to life. Out of habit, Kentarch's hand fell to his lightsaber, but his experience as a Sith Lord told him not to draw his weapon. Canine abominations and Sith Statues passed him with ease, only a few of the Natasizi-tatek stopped to get a second look. But Kentarch's face was hidden, and he was after all another Sith. How could they tell the difference? They moved past seemingly unconcerned by his presence.

Next came a disturbance in the force, and the Sith swiftly moved to the nearest window to peer at the sky outside. Clouds gathered at the highest towers of the academy. Exhaling Kentarch reached out with the force, he knew his actions would likely compromise his presence, but whatever sorcery was coming could jeopardize the Jedi's attempt to take the planet.

"I'm coming for you Taeli Raaf." Kentarch spoke, he could sense the ritual in the bowels of the Academy. "The Zatitsis is coming for you. And when I'm finished, I'm gonna burn this place and all the weak-minded heresies within to the ground."

Fast on his feet and concealing his force presence Kentarch moved again. The Nexus, Shrine of the Jen'jidai. He knew the path and begun his descent into the depths of the Academy.

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

T H E _ W O L F
THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE
104th MARINE BATTALION 'WOLFPACK'
STRIKE TEAM 'SKYWALKER'
Armor [ 104th Skin ] | Concord Brawn | Lightsaber

IF I HAD A HEART​

The engines roared with the initial jump of the swoop bikes, the Wolfpack was on the hunt and Treicolt as at the tip of the spear. It was far from any safe of desirable position, unlike the Wardaddy's own who curled their mailed fist to ram down the throats of the enemy. The Wolfpack ran fast and loose, the fighter tanks and armored support quickly falling in their shadow as they approached the walls, the first objective line honing in quickly on Maynard's display map.

<"We're gonna have to loosen up, their fire is gonna chew us up otherwise."> The Marine belted out through the commo. He might've been right. Even now, with the sensory envelopment of the the fire and thunder, the war around him, he knew.

<"We got ground to close. Fireteam Dorn, pull back, you'll all be the second round. The charges- are they armed?"> He inquired through the unit commo. Dorn being the three swoops attached to his padawan in Krau Rook .

<"Affirmative- soon as we're on the wall, we'll toss our payload and crack open this city."> The mass in the way of baradium to carve an entrance for the armored columns bearing down on the Sith city. Each Wolfpack trooper had detonation packs on them, with the assignment of lobbing the payload and turning tail to regroup with the armor or scaling the walls to take control of the ramparts.

The former was the most likely, the latter was the most hopeful.

He powered down his saber, snapping it to his waist again before he reached into the satchel of his swoop, grasping ahold of the heavy ordinance in his right hand.

Maynard patched through again, to rally the troops around him in their danger ready task.

<"We're ten seconds out, just keep format-"> His voice cut out harshly and heavy rain of metal and fire plunged down over him and the formation closest around him.

His vision went black, the vibrant digital envelopment of the heads up display crackling out before , he felt his hold of the swoop abandon him until he felt nothing at all. His senses plunged from his conscious thought as his mortal body went on the tumbling roll into the broken ground, settling into a crater accompanied by corpses, scrap heaps and shrapnel.

The Wolf laid at the bottom, the grey and white duraplast bathed in his own lifeblood, his body facing up to the ashen skies above.

He might've let that grasp tremble, that hold of what remained drift through his fingers until he heard a voice speak up in the back of his mind.

"Get up."​

There was no discernible source, no lingering familiarity to its inflection. Only his own will to endure made manifest. His eyes fired open, the glaring light of Ziost's star illuminating the ashen clouds above.

The field of glasteel which covered his gaze was cracked and shattered, he could feel the finite, thin shards of the material grading into his skin beneath the helm and around his eyes. He lifted his right arm as a natural instinct, only to find the hand once firmly fixed in its place...nothing. Mangled flesh and boke protruded from grey and white duraplast.

But there was no flood of the sensory illusion of pain, only the brief registration of this reality. His left hand remained and he used that to wrench the broken helmet from his skull, leaving his bloodied, burnt and weary expression to bare. He propped himself up on his elbows, peering down to his legs. They were intact...or seemed to look it from here at least.

A reach of his left hand down into the pouch on his belt fished out a bacta spray, managing to angle it toward the open wound of his right arm, spraying the frigid liquid her ground his teeth as his senses finally grasped ahold of the wound, making it all too tangible beyond the lucid fever dream it was but moments prior.

Good.

It meant he was still alive. It meant he was still willing to fight.

Regardless of the nature of the damage inflicted unto this mortal shell. He had a battle to win now.

A groan of pain and exertion marked his slow but sure ascension to his feet, each heavy step pulling himself from the crater with the wreckage settled at the bottom. He collapsed with an uneven step, sending him down to his knees with a thud, catching himself on that severed limb with a cry of pain. Then he got himself back up again. As he did every single time.

He looked forward. A sizable breach had been made, several of his bikes had gone through with the mission, leaving a small but viable pathway for troopers to flood into New Adasta.

<"Tycho- your gateway is open...drop the hammer."> He said with a strained, weary voice, speaking into the commo mounted to his vambrace as he brought it close to his face, nearly letting that limb drop limply before willing his lightsaber to his grip.

That grey ashen sky turned a blood red and he felt that same embrace of darkness that took him on Foerost fixate aroudn him now. His vision became shrouded in blackness, the tangible reality around him fading into a distorted plane.

The seed had grown its roots, planted by the Holocron on Foerost and now, on Ziost began to bloom.

What he felt in his heart of hearts faded to nothingness.

The Lie ruled him now.​

"The darkness."

"Just like her - you think you're so special, so smart."

"The day is going to come when he sees you for who you really are - and he's going to realize that he never had you to begin with."​

He heard that sultry voice of terror pierce his thoughts once more. Alekto. That sentiment, what was so clearly then an attempt to sow weakness and divide...suddenly took upon an entirely new perspective. That he never had her. Loske. The woman, the person which he'd fixated the nigh entirety of his emotional devotion to, his love. Yet...here he was, trembling once more into the reaper's embrace...and she was...no where. Far from here.

In a place of safety, isolated from the danger, the terror of war. With him. It'd all come together now.

He'd be left to his abandon here so that snake could continue its horrid dance of deceit as was its nature. And she fell so blissfully into it.

All the while, he bled on these broken grounds.

He could imagine now, the faux tears of the all too predictable report of his death, aligned too closely with the mission destined for suicide he was given.

That pathetically limp visage of grieving from her, that 'salute of a fallen comrade' of respect with a wink and a grin from him. Knowing well there'd now be nothing between him and her.

Too fucking bad.

Maynard ground his teeth against one another as this forlorn enlightment posessed his subconscious. Regardless, he had to prevail here if he was going to have his vengeance. Cut them both down as they looked in abject horror to find The Wolf before them. Alive, with hatred in his heart and death in his eyes.

For now, he needed to kill.

"Rook. On me. We're not stopping." Maynard said as if he'd never been struck down at all, willing the saber into his left hand with a pull of the force, striking the cobalt blade to life as he all but continued where the crash and tumble of his swoop left him. With a slow, foreboding pace he advanced toward the gateway of the Empire. Several of his Wolves were there already, the combat taking on its frantic and uneven pace.

The first Sith trooper he saw, he lurched forward, plunging the saber into his gut before he leaned up and against him.

He wanted to hear it. Those last frantic, choking breathes of defiance.

He wanted to feel those last beats of his heard, those longing claws of life as he kept the saber fixed in the flesh with a twist and revolt of the blade that he could smell the tainted stench of burning flesh.

He leaned back as the Sith trooper pressed against him limply, kicking him to the ground.

"Keep up the fucking advance! If it moves, you fire!" Maynard ordered, his voice deeply rooted in a vitriol. His eyes, that hazel gaze of a deeper, burning flame within now made infernal, corrupted.

The darkness.

He wanted nothing more but to carve a gorey swathe through New Adasta and plant the Starbird- nay, the Wolf's banner unto the mountain of the slain. The testament to his defiance of her and him, his hatred.

ALLIES | GA | NJO | Ryv | Krau Rook | Aelys | Tycho Dune | Bayaz | Leon Gallo | Caldon Tenneth | Loske Treicolt | Djorn Bline | OPEN
ENEMIES | TSE | Pom Stych Tivé | UX-0626 | Other Space Kaiden | OPEN TO SCRAP

 

[Adhira Chandra]

The faint sound of a string quartet somewhere in the Coruscanti ballroom was practically drowned out by the murmur of voices and clamor of bodies as they collectively hobnobbed their way through the charity banquet. Adhira languished at the epicenter of the crowd, offering niceties to the rich and famous of the Alliance. The banquet was being held for a charitable organization that was raising money for refugees and it happened that the Chancellor was their patron.​

​

Yet even in the midst of all the opulence, Adhira could hardly tear her thoughts from the battles that continued to rage on Ziost and the ruthless negotiations taking place on Tiss'Sharl. She would have preferred to be in attendance at Tiss'sharl herself, but the security assessment of High Command and the Jedi Order placed the risk to her life at obscenely high levels​

​

"Madame Chancellor!" A sing-songy voice that made her shoulders tense cut through the ambient noise of the ballroom. Adhira instinctively tucked one of her flowing black curls behind her ear and turned to face the source of the greeting. Lida Su was a tall, lanky Kaminoan who served as a special envoy to the Senate and one of Adhira's most generous donors. "Lida Su, I was not sure you would be able to make it, how wonderful to see-"​

​

"I was hoping to speak with you about the war," she cut across the Chancellor with an unassuming smile. Adhira could feel her lips tighten. "As you know, free trade is extremely important to me... my company does business with nearly every galactic nation and conglomerate... and this conflict has greatly limited our trade with Empire."​

​

The older woman frowned at Lida and had opened her mouth to speak when a commotion near the head of the room caught her attention. A human male in ragged clothes was screaming something about the war and she was certain she had heard her own name. The man held up his hand to reveal a pyrotechnic ignitor and Adhira's hand went to her lips as she realized what he was about to do. In a flash, the man set his clothes ablaze and the room erupted in horrified screams.​

​

Fortunately for everyone present, the highly advanced fire control system sprang into action spraying foam from small canon-like protrusions in the ceiling. In an instant, the Senate Guard was restraining the singed man and she felt two strong hands grip her at the elbow. "What the feth are you doing!? They have him!"​

​

"Ma'am... there's a situation on Ziost." Her stomach sank and she uttered an obscenity as she was rushed out of the room and back to the Executive Building.​

​

In the Chancellor's shuttle, Adhira found herself surrounded by hologram projections of the members of High Command, all listening intently as an officer on Ziost elaborated on the release of some ancient malevolence. "We are not sure what the device is, but we are certain it has deep connections to the Darkside according to our Jedi friends," his image rippled, and static briefly drown out his voice. "Have we assessed the extent of the effects on the ground?"​

​

"No ma'am, but preliminary reports indicate the device is having an adverse effect on.. everyone. We have experience unsettling attacks by civilians and wildlife who seem to have been enraged by the presence of the box. And the sky..." he was shrouded in pale blue, but somehow his face looked even paler suddenly. "What about the sky, damnit!?" she snapped.​

​

"It... has gone red, ma'am," for a moment it seemed like every hologram feed had frozen, but Adhira noticed the individuals were blinking. They were frozen in shock. And so was she. The Chancellor placed a hand on the table near her to steady herself and closed her eyes. "Are the Sith responsible for this event? Was this a coordinated attack?" ​

​

"We have not been able to identify a culprit, but it seems the Sith are just as surprised by this turn of events as we were, but based on the fallout it would seem they will ultimately benefit from the release of the device."​

​

Adhira watched as the commander prepared to say something else, but the only sound she heard was blasters in the background. The soldier's hologram flailed around in a panic before another individual lept into view and began to viciously attack the officer. The Chancellor stepped forward as if to help in some way, but after a horrifying look at the maddened man who had attacked the commander the feed dropped and the pale blue light disappeared. "What the feth is going on down there!?" she rounded on the other holograms.​

​

The military officials looked equally at a loss, but the Jedi appeared to be deep in thought. "Master Jedi? Do you have any insight into this device?" she inquired.​

​

"I am familiar with other such artifacts that pervert the mind with the powers of the Darkside... though this particular artifact seems to have been embued with exceedingly powerful darkness," he paused, "but the best weapon to combat the darkness is the light... it is possible a strong concentration of the Force, the Light Side, could destroy the artifact and cleanse the effects."​

​

"We need to establish contact with Ryv Karis... The Jedi need to be made aware of this. This thing, whatever it is must be destroyed if we are to prevail."​

​

Ryv Asmundr Varobalder Auteme Takui​

 

[Elena Lowe]

​

Private Karina Lowe - Sorzus Sith Academy, Ziost
Objective: Do as you’re told
Equipment: Flight Suit ~ Judicator Battle Rifle ~ Particle Pistol ~ Power Mace
Allies: TSE - Darth Daiara - Darth Strosius - Alina Tremiru
Enemies: GA - Strike Team Windu ( Zark San Tekka - Dagon Kaze - Creuat - Takui - Mrurh'en'lase | Hel ) Jend-Ro Quill

​

Sniper_Trap

Karina grew more nauseous as she descended the stairs. It was like the air itself was growing thicker, more noxious. Anxiously she checked her vitals and the air quality. According to the numbers, nothing was wrong.

They rounded the corner onto one of the lower landings. Karina’s stomach churned as she caught view of the hall beyond. It was shrouded in darkness, pierced by lances of light that shone down from the narrow windows she had peered through from above. The air was still, and the sounds of the fighting outside were muted and distant. Closer sounds echoed from within. Guttural growls of skulking Sithspawn, and hoarse whispers from things she did not know.

A rough shove from a squadmate pushed her forward, and Karina stepped into the Great Hall, her boots sending echoes across the space. Her skin prickled. Allies and enemies lurked in the space, each hiding, sneaking around each other. Broad white pillars lined the walls, and Karina peered behind the closest ones, her aural sensors picking up the shuffling feet of the squad following behind her. As she approached the centre of the hall she heard something and stopped.

A whisper, quiet and loud at once, caught her attention and she whipped around. It had clearly come from one of the far corners and Karina stepped towards it, pistol raised. Behind her, the other squad members moved, each of them strangely pointing their weapons to different areas of the hall. Karina frowned and listened again, but her brain felt fuzzy and she couldn’t pin down the source of the sounds.

“Something's… Not right.” She said slowly.

There were some muttered words of agreement, and Karina felt her chest tighten. There were sounds all around them, neither identifiable as friend nor foe. They backed up to the centre of the room, facing outward. Karina could tell that the draining dread that was gripping her was affecting the whole squad.

“Come out Jedi!” Tamper shouted. Karina shot her a glance. Her brain felt fuzzy again. The whisper sounded from in front of her. Over here. Over here. She stepped towards the sound, out of the shafts of light and into the dim of the pillars. Dully she was aware of her squad doing the same, being drawn into different corners of the hall. She heard something growl down the far entrance, but she didn’t look. Her eyes were fixed on the pillar. The Jedi was behind it, she could feel it.

Gripping the pistol tightly Karina darted around the pillar, into the shadows. She blinked, confused. There was nobody there.

 

[Brama Tagge]

Xappyh Sector // Tiss'Sharl // Tiss'Sharl League Chambers.
EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE WORLD

​

Dash Pavond, Brama’s trusty aide, had insisted that bringing her hounds to a delegation with business raptors was not a wise move to make. Someone could end up eaten.

And thus, the eldest Tagge arrived to delegation with a phantom pain of where the two creatures should have been at her side. She only managed to draw her focus in entirely and arch her brow over her good eye at the salutations of the Sith Empire’s representatives for their conversation. A clawed, scaly sort much like their Tiss’sharl hosts.

Everyone was very well and polite, as they always had been. Waiting for one another before beginning and entering, at the welcoming of the guests. Brama only arched both brows and made a non-committal, but mostly inaudible, sound at the back of her throat when the Sith mentioned this would be a bloodless affair. As a hunter well after her prime, she wouldn’t have minded the opportunity to flex in a stage she was far more familiar with than corporate dialogue.

She only “Hmm’d” in pleasant agreement. As elderly ladies should.

“Lovely décor. And excellent environmental control.” What a relief it was so cool in here. A stark contrast to the uncomfortable heat outside.

Fanning herself lazily, she glanced from representative to representative with her good eye. Her brother, Emmen Tagge , was far better suited at these events. His tongue was far more silver, and mind far more patient. The dream of The Alliance lived and bred in his heart..the company’s profits soared under his watchful eyes. This had been a world, a vista, that he'd constructed with a hardened focus. Far more refined an individual than Brama had ever been.

Something in her gut shifted while introductions were made, and she joined in with: “Brama Tagge,” she extended a hand courteously to each of their opposition across the table. They’d be fool to think this was anything pleasant, but falsehoods had to be evidenced with modicums of respect. “Of House Tagge and TaggeCo.”

Through the anthem, Brama remained respectfully quiet. Every other bridge, she’d glance across the table and assess those they were meeting with. Men, lizard-men, and two women. The only sensible thing the Eternal Empire had done, ever, was positioning a woman as their leader. And sending another woman along to represent them. Good. These scales could use some estrogen balance. Tight-lipped, the Tagge nodded along with the proposal from the Vice-Chancellor.

Until the woman spoke out so brashly against the wealth of opportunity proposed by the Vice-Chancellor. Brama’s thin lips drew to an even thinner line. In her bemusement, Gat Tambor spoke up. He exposed one wound after another in the Sith’s system.

Everyone had much to say. The room was filled with flowery words and promise, all with tangible, weighty amounts behind each of them.

"I am Alli Vern, I am the elected representive of the Zweihander Union. While I am sure that the GA, and NIO, have the best interest for you. Empress Ingrid, spoke the truth. If a government that appears to reward betrayal reaches out to make a deal with you, then it is your position to recognize that you will be met with the same. Any deal here is only as valid as the whims of the government you fall under."

“Tsch, dear. Careful. Betrayal is such a propagated word.” The elder mused, tucking the scarf around her head tighter around her neck. “The Alliance’s foundations are built on opportunity. The chance to re-evaluate and set a new course.

If anything, the Vice-Chancellor’s ascension from a turncoat to a venerable politician, given the proper opportunity and trust, should only bolster trust in The Alliance’s promise of potential. Consider it a mutual investment.

And..hmm. The Empire's inability to manage their assets effectively.”

The boy with an appearance as fresh as a daisy took the podium, promising spice and variety and Brama dutifully nodded along.

“Variety indeed.” She gestured in the direction of those collected on behalf of democracy and opportunity, in comparison to The Empire. “Perhaps one of the most constructive lenses to view this conversion with, dear League, would be those that are willing to show up for you.

This situation made its demand, and we’ve met you with supply. And the Sith...have...hmm.." Her head tilted pityingly at the select few Sith representatives.

---

---

BOARD MEMBERS | GA | NIO | Aerarii Tithe | Enlil | Gat Tambor | Otto Shule | Marlon Sularen | The Executive
BORED MEMBERS | TSE | Telis Taharin-Zambrano | Ingrid L'lerim | Alli Vern

 

[Ryv]

S W O R D _ O F _ T H E _ J E D I
Galactic Alliance
New Jedi Order
Strike Team Skywalker
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER

The Stygian Campaign: Episode II
​

"Don't roll. Don't roll. Don't roll," Ryv pleaded from his precarious position attached to the starfighter leagues above the ground.

As if on queue, the screeching approach of New Imperial TIE fighters sounded behind him. They flew in from above the Sith-Imperial ship, forward weaponry trained on the lone target. The three ships wove back and forth through the air. The two trailing behind prepared to release a torrent of fire on his only hope for a safe trip to the surface, while the fleeing Sith-Imperial raced towards a distant dogfight. From his position literally attached to the ship's wing, the kiffar couldn't make out more than distant black dots. If he had to wager a guess, well, the sense of urgency in his unwilling chauffeur was more than enough to make it a dangerous game.

He fought against the winds with all he had. The force came to his aid. It strengthened his body, providing power far beyond one of his stature. With a deep breath, Ryv pulled forward. He released a pained shout, the Jedi Knight unable to ignore the intense burn as it spread up his arm and through his body. He didn't let up until he managed to hook his cybernetic limb around the thin beam he'd grabbed moments before. Now properly in place, he unclipped his saber and activated it. The green blade surged to life in his hand, a veritable warning to the New Imperials.

The two ships faltered at the sight of Ryv's saber. After several seconds, of deliberation if he had to guess, they fell away completely. He deactivated the blade and returned it to his belt with a relieved sigh.

"Ryv, you still alive out there?" Sparrow's voice chimed through his commlink.

"Yeah!" Ryv shouted back. "I'm still here! I'm above New Adasta, it looks like!"

"Well, that's good to hear," the kiffar's handler paused for a moment. "Er... Hold on, I'm getting an incoming transmission from Coruscant. This is Sparrow," more silence as whoever spoke on the other end. "Ryv, I think we have a big problem."

Ryv's eyes widened as the cerulean sky took on a crimson hue. Dark feelings assaulted his mind, threatening to overwhelm the barrier erected by the empath to protect him from the onslaught of emotion associated with a warzone. He could feel the other Jedi out there, challenged by this great power. Promises of grandeur, immortality, and unparalleled power pressed against his better senses. An unnatural cold gripped his chest, content to try and smother the flames of the Jedi Knight's resolve.

"Yeah, Sparrow... I can see that."

"Well, I've got Alliance High Command on hold for you. Think you can spare a minute?"

"Y'know, I am kinda busy right now. Not sure if this is the best time," Ryv admitted.

"Unfortunately, they aren't asking. I'm patching them through. Don't die, Karis. I'll be back soon."

The Jedi Knight huffed and tucked his other arm around the same thin, cylindrical beam he'd used for a handhold since finding himself in this awful situation. Another voice sounded before he could think to complain.

"Is this Master Karis?" the unfamiliar voice inquired.

"Yeah, this is Ryv. What's the situation?"

"Can you see the sk-"

"Look, man, I'm literally attached to a Sith-Imperial starfighter while it's zipping around the force-damned sky right now. I don't have a lot of time for stupid questions," he rolled his eyes. "I see the sky. It's red, yes. Dark side? Hypercharged at the moment, not great. I can feel Jedi falling to their emotions right now-"

A sensation much like being hit by a speeder-bike struck the Jedi Knight and stopped his train of thought in its tracks. His voice caught in his throat, unable to escape the confines of his body. His grip weakened enough for his right arm to slip out from beneath the beam. The winds washed over him in one mighty swipe strong enough to send the kiffar sliding towards the starfighter's hull. He slammed against the cockpit with his shoulder. The pilot jumped in his seat and turned to cast his part-horrified, part-surprised, gaze over Ryv.

"Master Karis?! Is everything alright?!" the voice sounded again, distant this time.

Ryv took a deep breath, tightened his grip on the fighter, and guided his consciousness to expand beyond his body. It sped across the planet, seeking out one so important to the Sword of the Jedi, he didn't even second guess the idea. A trail of bodies left in his brother's wake warned him of his fall long before Ryv could make out his form. At the Jedi Knight's side stood his Padawan, stalwart in his loyalty, though momentarily misled by the man he would call master. Rage threatened to break the Wolf, his unrealized hatred a welcomed weapon in the face of the Crimson Shadow. Bogan's corrupting influence struck many upon the battlefield, but none so important to Ryv as Maynard Treicolt.

His brother had fallen.

"Maynard!" Ryv shouted to the skies. "Don't you fail, you bastard! Don't you let that boy down!" he took up his saber and activated it. Resolve's green blade spilled from the silvery hilt, foreshadowed by a gleaming light. "I don't have time for this anymore."

In one fell chop of his blade, Ryv sliced through the starfighter's right wing. It began its descent immediately, a trail of black smoke visible behind it. He studied the pilot as he attempted to regain control of his ship. He struggled over the central terminal, one hand yanking up on the stick, while the other flicked up various levers and pressed down on multiple flashing red buttons. When nothing else worked, the Sith-Imperial did the only smart thing. He slammed a big button labeled 'eject' and shot out of the cockpit and into the air.

The Sword of the Jedi took hold of the cockpit and crawled over the side. He awkwardly fell inside, one foot still hanging over the edge. After a bit of work, he managed to right himself within the seat and take hold of the stick.

"Alright, sorry about that, I don't have much time. My fighter is going down. You need to figure out which Jedi is closest to whatever is causing all this and get them over there ASAP," he shouted over the still-roaring winds. "If we can't fix this, we need to pull the hell out of Ziost. The planet is already strengthening the Sith. This red sky is corrupting our men. Karis out."

Ryv glued his gaze to the rapidly approaching ground, or more specifically, the tops of the New Adastan city. He yanked right on the stick in a vain attempt to avoid impact. The ship veered far enough to the side to only graze a particularly tall tower, though it sent the already poorly controlled ship further off course. Another jarring impact alerted the Jedi Knight to a second building he hadn't noticed. Smoke puffed out from within the ruined hull, fire not far behind it. He scowled and took the stick in both hands. He yanked back one last time in hopes of clearing what appeared to be a squat, durasteel building.

The last thing he felt was the ship disappear from beneath him before the world went black.

Tags: Maynard Treicolt | Krau Rook | Adhira Chandra

 

[Bayaz]

222nd Nova Corps

Twilight Company

Equipment: Armor {Aesthetic} | Rifle | Sidearm x2 | Knife
Enemies: Other Space Kaiden
No Rest
​

Twilight had made it up through the streets and reached a point where the fighting was thickest. He could see the Orbital Defense Command Center now, its brutalist spires stretching into the sky like long talons ready to tear the stars asunder. By the Light did he hate Sith architecture. It all looked so full of rage, but he supposed that was their way. A Jedi Knight was leading the charge here too just like on other fronts, his emerald blade cutting through Sith trooper after Sith trooper. Like most of the War-Hawk Jedi he didn't don the robes of typically seen on Jedi. He was clad in black spacer's leather, a baldric strapped across his chest. The Jedi Knight leaped into the air over a Sith barricade and a moment later a gust of the Force billowed from the other side, blowing the plastoid structure to bits and sending Sith troopers flying.

The Jedi really were worth several full squads of soldiers. It was always a pleasure watching one work.

A blaster bolt scattered permacrete near his head, too close for comfort, and Marcus slid back behind cover.

"Just let the Jedi handle it Captain," a familiar voice said from behind. He turned and saw another marine, his IFF code pinging him as Porko. Indeed, the bludges in his armor around the gut and arms matched the callsign thrust upon him. Maybe it was a little cruel, but humor in the trenches differed a lot from the cushy towers of Coruscant.

"Just ain't right, sending these kids off like this," Marcus said.

"Weren't you his age when you fought them One Sith?" Marcus shrugged and grunted.

"Younger. Let's get moving. We're almost at the-" Marcus felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he heard the temperature control fans in his armor start to whir harder as a sudden drop in temperature fell over the air. A trail of red opened up in the sky, tendrils spreading from it like a massive root system in the sky until a red haze had fallen over the city.

"What in the-" The assault on his mind was sudden and unrelenting. Images of death and destruction flashed through his vision. THey were so visceral and real that he could feel himself screaming, even if he could not hear it. He felt a heavy weight slam into his chest, lifting him off his feet and sending him into the muck. THe sudden contact snapped him free of his visions and when he came to he was staring at Porko who straddled him, a massive chunk of permacrete held high above his head.

"Porko! Stand down! Its me!" Porko let out a muffled roar and started to drop the boulder when he was suddenly lifted off the ground and flung through the wall of an adjacent building.

"Are you alright?" Marcus turned and he was standing face to face with the Jedi he'd seen earlier. Blood soaked his pant leg and he was holding his head with one hand, the distorted glow of his lightsaber only casting a white glow onto his stricken face.

"I-I'm fine Master Jedi. What happened?"

"There has been a disturbance in the Force. A great darkness has overtaken Ziost, stronger than the natural one here. Its making it....difficult to connect with the Force." He shrugged and gave a weak smile. "I don't think we will be able to take the station like this. Too many of you Marines have succumbed to this. Its...Its a killing field out there." Marcus quirked his eyebrow.

"I don't mean any disrespect Master-"

"Knight Hathaway," the Jedi interrupted. Marcus rolled his eyes.

"Knight Hathaway," he continued, getting more annoyed by the moment. This was why he hated working with Jedi. They always got uppity like this in the worst situations. "It was already a killing field for us." The Knight shrugged.

"We need to get to higher ground. Follow me." He wasn't going to argue with a Jedi. When they left the cover of the alley he saw what the Jedi had meant earlier. Marines and Sith Troopers had abandoned all pretence and were just ripping one another to shreds, forgoing blaster bolts in some cases, and just beating each other with the weapons. How had he managed to escape this fate?

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Darth Strosius | Aaran Tafo

"It's not a bad offer, if a war wasn't currently going on. They get loose, they become threats to the other Acolytes upstairs. Children, not unlike some of the Jedi's padawans." Alina listened to the offer, somewhat intrigued by the idea of him actually surrendering as she had demanded from him. And yet, this could cost the lives of more of her fellow acolytes. The calm expression hardened as she gripped the hilt of her blade in a much firmer fashion. Her com went off with Alisteri's voice then.

Yeah, that made sense. This wasn't a one person break out.

A grim smile formed as she lowered herself into the beginning of a combat stance. Tensing her body. Preparing. "I'm afraid I'll have to decline." She propelled herself forward then, closing the distance in the blink of an eye. Crimson arched as she brought her saber across in a powerful swing. He was cocky, but she wasn't so naïve as to think it was only arrogance. He had a reason behind it. Something worthy of at least some of it. How much was what she didn't know, so she played it safe. A strong strike, but one that didn't leave her open. Testing. Learning.

 

[Aaran Tafo]

BENEATH THE ACADEMY OF SITH ARTS

Opposition: Alina Tremiru​

It was unfortunate that Alina was unwilling to accept his offer. But he could understand her reasoning. So many Jedi were letting the war get the better of them, forgetting their oaths. Performing ugly deeds in the name of the greater good. Unable to detach their own bias from their actions and motivations. The cognitive dissonance that Aaran had seen many of his fellows display was disturbing to say the least. "A shame, I would have done my best to ensure that no non-combatants were harmed." He said, tilting his head for a moment at the incoming chime. Lips curling in distaste as he heard the ramblings of the Headmistress of the academy echo throughout the hall.

"Interesting isn’t it? Jedi leadership is here on the ground and doing some grim work in an attempt to spare those under them. While yours is content to sit in her tower, leaving her students to fend for themselves." He shook his head. "Apologies. I have met many Sith in the past that I can respect in some ways. But Miss Raaf's lack of integrity is rather irritating to me." He shook his head, refocusing again on Alina.

As the Acolyte came towards him, Aaran simply lowered his blade from his shoulder. Force imbued metal easily catching the probing attack on its edge. Stopping the blow in its tracks. "We dont have to fight." He said, blade twisting in an attempt to stop her from drawing back. Holding it in a lock in order to stall this brief skirmish into becoming a full on duel between the pair.

"You can go. Protect the students who cannot defend themselves. Get them to safety. Tell me where I can release all the prisoners and I will do the same. I give you my word we will attempt to leave as non-violently as possible."

He was being honest. His usual blocks and walls thrown up to obscure his emotions were let down. Even from this distance, Alina could feel his surface thoughts. He was not attempting to deceive her. Regardless of her own stance on Jedi. It seems that this one was at least attempting to live up to the ideals that they preached.

 

[Alina Tremiru]

Darth Strosius | Aaran Tafo

​

"While I might of been inclined to listen to you before, I certainly cannot now." Alina flashed the man a brief smile before it hardened. Now, unfortunately, he was insulting her master. And she refused to allow such insults to go unopposed. Her red blade disappeared as she pulled back from Aaran, not allowing herself to be held in a lock against him. He wanted to talk, diffuse the situation. Unfortunately for him, she couldn't sense thoughts. She couldn't do a lot of things with the Force. Just a result of her unique connection to the Force.

Her saber reignited in her grasp, yellow eyes narrowing. "You'd best stop talking and fight for your life, if you do want to escape. Before others come to subdue you or I cut you down."