Junction The Spoils | Sith Order/Mandalorian Empire Junction for Apoptosia and Empty Hex

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Beskar'gam - Darksaber​

LIANNA - ORBIT

The thud of beskar-clad boots entering the bridge drew the Mand'alor's gaze.

Aether witnessed the arrival of Korda the Unyielding, a literal hero of the Mandalorian Empire. From behind his helm, the Sole Ruler allowed himself the beginnings of a smile. Yet, the time for reveling in the presence of one of his finest warriors would have to wait. Today, the Imperial Remnants would feel the sting of Mandalore. Today, their will would not be denied.

When Korda rendered his salute, Aether returned it in kind. His dominant fist thundered upon his own breastplate in solemn recognition. "It's good to see you, Unyielding." he began. "Beneath us, Lianna burns. I need you to secure the most valuable asset of them all: the future."

"Your prowess in battle is well-known to me. Today, I ask that you serve by using your wisdom and instinct first before your blade. The children of Lianna are your focus. This assault will no doubt create no shortage of orphans and broken souls. Find those of tender age and liberate them from the jaws of death. Return them to Mandalorian space at once."

"And if you are impeded by Imperials along the way? Break them. Remind them that you stood against the worst of the Diarchy alone and prevailed."

The Mand'alor motioned to one of the screens upon the bridge. It displayed the various Mandalorian positions on the surface thus far. "One of our veterans is on the field now, one Adonis Angelis IV . Rendezvous with his position and begin your mission."

Aether did not dismiss his warrior just yet. He ceased his words, leaving space for any questions or seeking to understand. If there were none? Then Lianna would be met with one of the Empire's mightiest in short order.

Korda Veydran , Adonis Angelis IV + Open

 

[Yusha]

Surface, Lianna

Interesting.

The whispers from the destitute had painted a vivid picture of the woman who descended from on high. She was always referred to by the Crimson Dawn in a rather maternal manner. They looked to her for direction like children who placed their faith in their infallible parents. And, like a capable mother, she had guided them to success thus far. In the months that the organization had been active under her rule, they grew from a mere rumor to something regularly discussed by the broken and lost.

Suffice it to say, the King of Beggars was intrigued.

Her words were a flame that would have drawn moths immediately. A hook with succulent bait dangled into the waters. Yusha was curious - but not foolhardy enough to abandon all reason. From his position, he'd follow, pausing only to activate his personal cloaking device as he advanced. His form vanished from the naked eye and sensors. But he was very much so there. A shadow amidst the burning city.

"I'm intrigued enough to take a peek. Lead on, oh honored one."​

Sidonia​

 

[Prisoner #36929]

Tags: Na Ri
Equipment: X​

"You don't know me," the Prisoner snapped, his voice echoing against the vibrating durasteel. He was tired of her profiling him. The idea that he'd killed the man purely out of spite was insulting. He hadn't pulled the trigger because of a grudge, he'd done it because she was hesitant, and he refused to let her pull them both to the bottom. Her hesitation had already cost him his records. He wasn't going to let it cost him his life.

The trooper was a dead man the moment the orbital bombardment began. Whether he died by a blaster bolt or under a mountain of rubble was inconsequential. To the Prisoner, a quick death was mercy compared to the slow suffocation of being buried alive or tortured by Sith.

He kept his mouth shut after that, focusing entirely on the rhythmic agony of the climb. He didn't have the breath to argue the ethics of survival with a woman who was currently coughing her lungs onto the floor.

They finally burst through the upper exit. The world outside was a nightmare of falling debris and shrieking engines. Mandalorian and Sith forces were already falling back, their objective complete and the facility sufficiently ruined. The fresh air was only marginally better, still thick with the scent of a dying world. The Prisoner stopped near the perimeter, his leg throbbing so violently he could barely stand. He looked back at her one last time, watching her frame shake with another violent coughing fit.

She wouldn't thank him, and he didn't need her to. He had fulfilled whatever strange debt he felt he owed her for the bandage. "You should see a doctor," he said, glancing toward the line of departing transports. He didn't offer his hand again. He had his own wounds to stitch and a new path to find now that his past was officially ash.

He turned away, limping toward a waiting shuttle and leaving the ruins of the Confederation behind.

 

[Korda Veydran]

Korda stood unmoving as Mand'alor spoke, his gaze fixed and attentive beneath the dim glow of the burning world reflected through the viewport. Each word settled heavily upon his shoulders, not as burden, but purpose. The future. The foundlings. The children left in the wake of war.

His fingers slowed upon the hilt of the vibro-blade in his hand until the weapon stilled completely.
When Aether spoke of Yaga Minor, of how Korda had stood alone and prevailed, the warrior's expression hardened, though not with pride. Something quieter. Something heavier.

His voice came low and measured when he answered.
"With respect, my Mand'alor..." Korda began, bowing his head slightly before lifting his eyes once more. "I did not stand alone on Yaga Minor."
A pause.
"There were four beside me when I made planetfall." His words were calm, but carried weight like stone. "Tor. Fenn. Rex. Joric." Each name was spoken deliberately, with reverence, as though ensuring their memory occupied the bridge with him. "Good warriors. Strong warriors. it was their first real mission"

His jaw tightened.
"I would not have completed that mission without them." His hand curled faintly at his side. "I should have taken their place when the Destroyer called for blood... but he saw fit to leave me breathing."

Silence followed for a brief moment, Korda staring past Aether toward the burning world below.
"Because of that, I will see this task done."
His posture straightened again, returning fully to the mission at hand.

"I will gather these children. I will protect them. I will see them brought from the fire and into Mandalorian space." His tone deepened, conviction settling into every syllable. "And if Imperials stand in my path..." a faint, dangerous grin tugged at the edge of his lips, "...I will remind them why I earned the name Unyielding."

His gaze shifted toward the tactical display as Aether motioned toward Adonis' location. Korda stepped closer, studying it carefully, burning the coordinates into memory.

Then he turned his eyes back toward his ruler.
"There is one request I would make, Mand'alor."
Korda placed a fist lightly against his chest, respectful but earnest.

"If I prove successful in this... I ask permission to take some of the foundlings under my own wing." His tone softened, just barely. "To teach them. To forge them. To pass on what wisdom and tactics I have learned so that the next generation may be stronger than ours."
His head dipped.
"But that decision is yours to make, and yours alone."

Then his brow furrowed slightly, voice quieter now, more uncertain than before. It was not fear in battle, not hesitation toward bloodshed... but something far rarer for Korda: uncertainty in matters beyond war.

"If I may ask one final thing..." he said. "Should I find wounded parents... those on the brink of the Destroyer's embrace..." his gaze drifted momentarily toward the burning planet again. "How should I comfort their children, should they ask me why their mother or father cannot rise?"

The question lingered in the air, sincere and unguarded.
For all his strength, all his victories, Korda knew war.
But mercy...
Mercy was something he was still learning.

Aether Verd Adonis Angelis IV

 

[Daella]

Location: Commandeered Imperial Shuttle, Secondary Hangar Bay, The Eye of Helvede - Tion High Orbit
Dialogue Legend: <<Telepathy>> │ “Verbal”
Thread Objective: The Holdouts
Mission Objective:

• Disable the planetary shield complex.
• Capture or disable the Tion shipyards.

Allies: CT-312 Eira Dyn Scherezade deWinter
Enemies: Barragh Nenn

Daella elected to remain inside the shuttle, taking advantage of the cover afforded by its passenger bay. The enclosed space allowed her to better focus on harnessing her foresight, without the distraction of dodging incoming blaster bolts. In that, the small-statured seer knew that her value was not at the tip of the blade. It was here, where she could best perceive the space between what was and what would be.

Thus, she turned her attention to the immediate threats, which were the white-hot silhouettes of the stormtroopers firing wildly into the smoke. She honed in on the shimmers, focusing her foresight on the flickering pre-images of actions yet to be taken.

<<Pivot right,>> Daella whispered to CT-312 through the telepathic link, her mental voice soft, yet precise. Should the clone trooper heed her warning, a blaster bolt would pass through the space where her head had been just a moment prior. In turn, if it was ignored, the bolt would likely meet her directly in the head, with only the helmet to protect her from a potentially fatal shot!

Her halo-shaped horn pulsed with sudden radiance a few moments later, the crystalline matrix shimmering with soft, opalescent light. Above CT-312, concealed within the recesses of the ceiling, the pre-image of a turret's lethal shimmer line coalesced in the seer's awareness, its firing pattern tracing a line directly towards the clone trooper.

<<Turret powering up!>> Daella sent, her telepathic tone sharp with urgency. <<Ceiling, center of the bay. It will track you first. Get behind the TIE fighter to your right. Its hull will absorb the shots.>>

Spoiler: Loadout

• Oracular Veil
  
  • Miscellaneous Equipment
    
    • FAE/U-01 "Serenity" Anti-Signal Field System
    • UL-14 “Virtus” Underlay - Nanotech Version: Inactive
• Qazûr-Pattern Soulpistol Mk. I
  
  • Ammunition
    
    • Standard Blaster Power Cell (6)
    • Tibanna Gas Cartridge (6)
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
• FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II - Left Forearm
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (4)
• Supernal Infusion

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

ADONIS ANGELIS IV
Mandalorian Knight of House Angelis | Risen Son of Vaal | Vanguard of the Manda

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Around Adonis the city burned, the planet burned, and in its place the future would be born. The former capital and its survivors would be desperate for aid, either from the Mandalorians or Sith, and in that desperation they would find themselves in their debt. Nature abhorred a vacuum, and soon Lianna would be ruled again, as it was destined to be. Fire alone would not cleanse the rot the Empire left behind, but it would be a good start. For it to be effective, however, the women and children would have to be saved, so that they had something to return to, something worth rebuilding.

Ivory and gold was a blur as Adonis moved from cover to cover, advancing toward his objective: the boy's school that had been turned into an Imperial recruitment center. They had young men of all ages there, indoctrinated by the Empire and taught to hate like they did. Adonis was tasked with securing their safety and delivering them to the glory of Mand'alor and his Empire, a task he did not take lightly. His approach had been mostly uncontested, his vode and the Sith cutting down resistance ahead of him, leaving Adonis to deal with what remained.

The Mandalorian warrior stood tall amid the battlefield, enemies only getting potshots off before he overtook them or they ran for their lives. He wasn't the type to chase his enemies, but these were different. He made sure they felt a fraction of the fear he had lived in for those months. The darkness of it crept in without resistance, settling behind his eyes as an invisible grip closed around the last guard standing between him and his goal. The man lifted from the ground, his body jerking as the pressure crushed the life from him, and Adonis held him there a moment longer than he needed to.

When he finally released him, the body dropped all at once, lifeless against the burning ground. Adonis didn't move for a long moment. He had never used such power before, and it sat wrong in him, thick and metallic, like something he couldn't swallow. He turned slightly, the taste rising in the back of his throat as he pulled his helmet free. The fires reflected across his face, catching the sweat beading along his brow. He spat, and red struck the ground.

​

________________Blood.

His gloved hand came to his mouth, brushing along his gums. Still bleeding. He paused for just a second, feeling the weight of it settle in, before forcing it down. The helmet snapped back into place, sealing him off again, away from any emotions. He stepped over the body and continued toward the school. The fires hadn't reached it yet, though the structure was already locked down. Hopefully the boys were still inside, untouched by whatever panic had taken hold of the Imperials within.

"I have cleared the path." His voice rang over the comms to Aether Verd and Korda Veydran , "Let's get them out."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
​

 

[Korda Veydran]

----------------------------------

-------------------------------------------------------

Korda did not answer immediately.
For a brief moment after Adonis' transmission cut through the channel, there was only the low, constant noise of the Reclaimer's bridge, engines thrumming, distant orders being called, the ship itself moving like a living thing around him. The burning world below filled the viewport in slow, relentless motion.

He exhaled once through his nose.
Then he turned.
"Mand'alor," Korda said, stepping forward just enough for his voice to carry without forcing attention. The vibro-blade in his hand stopped spinning. "With respect. I am required elsewhere."

There was no hesitation in the words. Only certainty.
He dipped his head in a brief, disciplined apology, less ritual, more acknowledgment, then stepped back before the moment could stretch.
His comm clicked open as he moved.
"Adonis Angelis," Korda's voice came through the channel, steady and controlled. "Korda Veydran. I am en route."
A pause as he crossed the bridge, boots striking durasteel in a quicker rhythm now, momentum building.

"Apologies for delay. I will be diverting a dropship to your position to assist extraction."
He didn't wait for a reply before cutting the line.
The hangar doors were already opening when he arrived.

Flight crews moved aside as the armored warrior strode through, the Ashen Maw catching the hangar lights in dull, brutal reflections. Engines roared to life ahead of him, a transport already prepped for deployment. Someone shouted something about routing and clearance, but Korda was already boarding.

No ceremony. No wasted motion.
Inside the dropship, he finally secured his helmet from his belt. It locked into place with a clean, familiar seal, sound narrowing, world tightening into focus. The cockpit vibrated as the engines lifted the craft from the deck.

As the ramp began to close, Korda keyed his comms again.
"Adonis Angelis. I am inbound. Brace for hard drop. I am bringing a transport capable of evac support."
The ship tilted.
Atmosphere swallowed them.

The descent hit like a hammer, hull groaning, heat building along the frame as Lianna's sky rushed up to meet them. Korda stood near the ramp instead of sitting, one hand braced against the interior frame as wind and vibration tore through the open gap beneath the lowering ramp.

Below, the planet burned in fractured patterns of orange and black. Smoke columns twisted upward like wounded giants.
His voice came again over comms, calm despite the violence of descent.
"ETA three minutes."

A beat.
"Report hostile presence in your AO."
He leaned slightly forward, visor fixed on the approaching battlefield, the wind clawing at the edge of the ramp as the dropship cut lower through the fire-lit haze.


And beneath it all, Korda waited. not impatient, not uncertain, just ready to fall straight into the fire the moment they hit the ground.

Aether Verd Adonis Angelis IV

 

[Aymeric Prendergast]

|| THE SPOILS ||

Ghost of the Core’s Past - Chapter 1

TAG: Sidonia | Yusha

NO CHOICE
​

LIANNA
The damp air of poverty occupying the lower levels of Lianna reminds Aymeric of a scene all-too familiar. The ashy stench from the abandoned noodle bars, the oppressive smell of burning rubber, it all effortlessly takes him back to the hours of isolation in Woostri underground.

Memories that have crept back to his mind in his exile.

Aymeric hadn’t expected having to scrape for survival in the street of Lianna. After all, he had arrived as a hedge knight, feared more than respected for his venomous yellow gaze and broad, imposing figure. He didn’t plan on staying too long, he was supposed to only stay for a good month or so, before venturing closer to the Core.

Yet the Remnant government they were taking refuge in chose the worst time to internally collapse, opening the gate for ravenous hordes of Sith, Mandalorians, and criminals. As much as he hated all three, they were in no position to fight. So they took to the streets, waiting for the perfect opportunity to go off-world.

And a risky yet promising venture had spawned in front of him in the form of two strangers straying too close to his camp.

He had sensed them the moment their transport breached the atmosphere; one a presence that commanded the air around her, the other a flickering, predatory shadow.

He remained in the deep shadow, his posture still, his presence almost entirely suppressed; the old habits of a Jedi Shadow serving as a better mask than any physical disguise.

He waited until the lady was at the threshold.

"The pulse is a trap," Aymeric's voice was low and melodic, unlike the rasp of his former persona. "The system is cycling through a thermal purge. If you step another meter in, you'll be caught in the venting."

He didn't move toward them. He remained a part of the ruins, his yellow eyes catching the faint, intermittent glow of the data tower.

"And your companion..." He didn't turn his head toward the cloaked man, but his gaze drifted toward the faint displacement of ash on the ground; a subtle, shimmering void in the flickering light. "He should mind the pressure sensors near the debris. They were designed to detect intrusion."

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

ADONIS ANGELIS IV
Mandalorian Knight of House Angelis | Risen Son of Vaal | Vanguard of the Manda

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

​

Adonis pushed further toward the structure. He could hear the wailing of sirens inside the building even over the tumult outside. It was clear they had locked down once the assault began, but the question was whether they would come out to meet him on the battlefield or wait for the Mandalorians to breach and make their stand then. Imperials didn't share the same relationship with combat as Mandalorians. That made them harder to predict, but easier to manipulate.

The basilisk of a man waded through the chaos as he approached the school. His comm link opened again, Korda announcing his landing time. That gave Adonis three minutes to clear a landing zone and ensure they wouldn't be overrun when he arrived. It looked like it would be easy, until the alarm grew louder, then louder still. When Adonis turned, he was met with a reinforced squad of Imperials advancing toward him, equipped with repeating blasters and RPGs, firing both in equal measure.

The Mandalorian reached out with the Force, catching one of the rockets mid-flight and turning it back toward the shooter. The explosion scattered the formation, forcing them to dive for cover and giving Adonis the opening he needed. In that split second, he surged forward, the Force carrying him across the distance as his blue lightsaber ignited halfway through the charge. He crashed into the front line before they could recover, beskar colliding with bone and flesh with a sickening crack, the momentum of his strike erasing one of them from the fight.

He turned on his heel, his helmet scanning for the next opening, already taking space before they could recover. The timer in his HUD slipped to two minutes and fifteen seconds- perfect. Another crack split the air, loud enough to echo like thunder across the burning skyline of Lianna, and another Imperial dropped, broken on the ground. Red edged into his vision as the rage began to take hold, the newly tapped darkness feeding his movements, sharpening them, pushing him faster. Every swing of his blade came cleaner, heavier, more final.

The squad collapsed under the pressure. Thirteen became eight in moments, their formation breaking as they tried to regroup under fire. It didn't matter. Adonis pressed forward, repeating the same brutality over and over until only one remained. The last soldier emptied his weapon into Adonis's armor in desperation, the bolts scattering uselessly across beskar as the Mandalorian closed the distance, towering over him. He would die fighting, but he would die nonetheless.

A sweeping calm settled over Adonis as the fight ended. Not relief, not discipline, something else. He caught his breath as he focused on the core of his pain, forcing it down as the timer in his HUD ticked toward zero. The scream of an incoming vessel cut through the chaos, growing louder as it tore through the sky above. The winds whipped around him as Korda Veydran made his descent, feeding the flames and casting everything in a violent orange glow that reflected off the gold and ivory armor housing Adonis.

"You made it." His greeting was simple, unceremonious. Korda had arrived as he said he would, that was enough. In less dangerous times, he would have offered a proper introduction, but they both knew why they were here. Pleasantries could wait.

"West side," Adonis added, already turning back toward the structure. "There's an entrance."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
​

 

[Aistrella]

Location: Neyrix, Lianna City - Lianna
Thread Objective: Delenda Est
Mission Objective:

• Spread bedlam.
• Infiltrate the Neyrix.
• Extract data from the archives.

Tag: Lazzasha Jovee Amni Kazda

Aistrella blinked, her elfin features shifting with a flicker of annoyance and surprise. Despite the fact that she had counterattacked the Imperial warrior immediately after her opening Force push, the woman had managed to kill one of the Lazzasha’s nexu before disappearing into a portal to evade the supersonic aerial slash. It was abundantly clear now that this portal-summoning adversary was both lightning-fast and lethally dangerous.

In that, the blade dancer immediately realized that defeating her would require every bit of her focus.

Her pointed ears twitched as the sound of the portal registered once more, at which point the Imperial warrior suddenly appeared above, her massive blade descending towards Lazzasha. Recalling her blades with a beckoning curl of her fingers, Aistrella launched herself backward in an explosive, flying backstep pirouette, her body flying gracefully through the air before landing six meters behind her starting position.

All the while, the Midnight Harmony came racing back to the blade dancer, both weapons singing through the air like vengeful spirits. However, a snap of her fingers caused one of the airborne swords to abruptly change its trajectory mid-flight. From there, a sharp, pointed finger guided the blurry, Obsidian Voidshard-infused weapon towards the Imperial warrior’s throat at transonic velocity, intended to strike her through the neck blade point-first!

Spoiler: Loadout

• Midnight Graveglass
  
  • Arms
    
    • Velocity-7 Dart Shooter - L Forearm
      
      • Mk. I Saberdart - Blood Boiler Payload (6)
      • Explosive Dart (6)
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II - R Forearm
• Midnight Harmony (2)
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (2)
• FAE/MDE-01-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (2)

 

[Minerva Fhirdiad]

Tag: Mig Gred

Minerva followed after Mig and the team around them, going through the ruins of what has been a great city in the midst of fires and ships flying overhead. War doesn’t discriminate with its destruction. She thought, as a Mandaloiran and warrior she knew this truth all too well. The warrior kept checking her corners, aiming down from the sights of her rifle. Soon she heard noises from a now ruined shop and sure enough she detected several people, none of them armed.

They looked battered, resentful, tired and sacred. Lowering her weapon. “Any of you hurt?” She asked but they didn’t answer and she scanmed around concerned about an ambush at first. Then they started out out, truly desperate. “Where you did all come from?”

Minerva pointed back where she and Mig just came from. “Head that way to our landing zone and you’ll be safe but you folks better hurry.”

They didn’t offer any thanks or anything like that as they ran in that direction. She understood why and wasn’t resentful. Running back to catch up with Mig. “Glad I joined up with you Gred. If we make it out of this I’ll buy everyone here a beer.“ All the while she looked out for trouble.

 

[Korda Veydran]

..................................................

......................................................................

The dropship hadn't fully settled before Korda moved.
The ramp was still lowering when he stepped forward and dropped, boots hitting the scorched ground with a heavy thud. Heat rolled over him immediately, the air thick with smoke and ash as the ship's engines screamed overhead. Dust and embers kicked outward in a violent halo around his landing.


He straightened slowly, already reaching back.
The Ashen Maw slid from its resting place across his shoulder with a weight that felt… right. Familiar. Necessary.
Korda turned his head slightly at Adonis Angelis IV voice, offering a single, sharp nod. No wasted words. No need.


"West side."
"Understood."
He started forward
Then paused.
A small, familiar weight shifted near his collar.


Korda's head tilted down just slightly as a small, scaled shape emerged from the seam near his chestplate. A two-foot length of pale, soft-scaled serpent eased its way into the open air, her small head lifting just enough to take in the chaos. A slow tongue flick tested the burning atmosphere like it was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.


Korda exhaled through his nose.
"I told you to stay at the Citadel," he muttered, voice low, more tired than angry.
Oro gave no apology. Just another lazy flick of her tongue before settling herself comfortably along the edge of his collar, head resting like she had every right to be there.


Korda stared at her for half a second longer.
Then shook his head once.
"Of course you didn't listen."


Because why would anything in his life be simple.
He moved.
The entrance came into view quickly, a reinforced door, sealed tight, built to keep panic contained and intruders out. Korda slowed just enough to assess, Ashen Maw lowering slightly as his eyes traced the frame, the hinges, the locking mechanisms.


He tilted his head.
"I could shoot the hinges…" he muttered aloud, more to himself than anyone else. His gaze narrowed slightly. "No. Not with unknowns behind it. Overpenetration would..."


He stopped mid-thought.
Turned.
Took two steps away from the door.
Then stopped again.
Silence, save for distant fire and the crackle of destruction.


Korda turned back toward the entrance.
"…No."
He broke into a short, sudden charge.
His shoulder hit the door like a hammer strike.


The impact thundered through the structure, metal screaming as the reinforced seal buckled inward under the sheer force. The frame warped, then gave, the entire entryway collapsing inward in a violent crunch of steel and debris.


Korda went through with it, driving the breach open before the remains of the door clattered to the ground.
A low chuckle escaped him inside his helmet as he pushed himself upright from the wreckage.
"Good enough."
The Ashen Maw came up immediately, ready, steady.


He clicked his tongue once, sharp and precise.
"Go."
Oro didn't hesitate this time. She slipped from his collar, disappearing into a nearby vent with surprising speed, her small body vanishing into the dark with barely a sound.


"Find them," Korda added quietly. "Children. Survivors."
Then he stepped forward into the building.
The hallway beyond was dim, lit only by flickering emergency lights and the distant glow of fire bleeding through cracks in the structure. Smoke curled along the ceiling, the air thick and hot.


Korda moved through it slowly, deliberately, Ashen Maw leading the way as each step echoed down the corridor.
Every sense sharpened.
Every movement measured.
The storm was outside.
Now came the part that required control.

 

[Lazzasha Jovee]

The moment the Nexu’s head struck the ground—Lazzasha felt it. Not the death itself. That Nexu was not part of her pack. Its death was fleeting. Brief. Meaningless. But the break in its pack. A thread snapped in the weave she had so carefully drawn through instinct and hunger, and for the briefest instant the rhythm faltered.

Her gaze shifted. Just enough to see it—rolling, blood-slick, lifeless. Silence. Then—She inhaled. And something darker answered. Not rage in the crude, explosive sense. Not loss. Not grief. Refinement.

Her will tightened like a drawn wire, the Force coiling inward before lashing outward again—not scattered this time, but focused, sharpened to a singular, cutting edge. The remaining beasts felt it instantly.

The Rayijadni stuttered—then surged harder, faster, their movements becoming more aggressive, less restrained. One abandoned a wounded trooper entirely to leap across open ground, forcing a new engagement point. Another drove prey directly into the Mekhisian Nexu’s path, feeding the larger predator’s momentum rather than competing for it.

The Maelridae did not hesitate at all. It adapted. It always adapted. Lazzasha’s voice followed, low and steady—more dangerous now for its calm. “Good.” A single word. Approval… for survival.

Her eyes lifted. Amni. Above. The portal shimmer had barely faded before the attack came—fast, direct, descending with lethal intent. There was no time to redirect beasts, no time to maneuver them into interception.

So Lazzasha moved. Her stance shifted as her left arm came up, tonfa saber rotating into alignment in one smooth, practiced motion. The descending blade met it with a violent crack of energy—

—and she held. For a fraction of a second. The impact drove through her arm, into her shoulder, down into her stance. She did not try to overpower it. Did not try to match strength for strength. She yielded. Just enough. Her boots slid back across the blood-slick stone as she gave ground under the force of the strike, letting the momentum carry through rather than break her outright. Sparks spat and hissed where blade met saber, the angle shifting as she redirected the pressure off-center.

And in that moment—She saw it. Olyssandra’s blade. A distortion in the air. A line of death already drawn, already committed—aimed not for the clash, but for the opening. Perfect.

Lazzasha’s lips curved—sharp, fleeting. “Mm.” Then she moved. Her right hand snapped forward. The lightwhip screamed to life in motion, not as a flourish but as a strike—emerald energy lashing outward in a tight, controlled arc, low and fast. Not toward Amni’s blade.

Not toward her center. Toward her legs. The timing was precise—between beats of the clash, as the Imperial’s focus remained committed to overpowering the tonfa guard, as Olyssandra’s attack closed in from another vector.

Pressure from above. Death from behind. And now—Entanglement below. Lazzasha stepped with it, continuing to give ground just enough to maintain the angle, her body turning slightly to avoid locking into the strike entirely. The whip coiled and snapped with predatory intent, seeking to bind, to trip, to disrupt footing—

—not to kill. Not yet. Her voice slipped through the clash, quiet, almost conversational despite the violence. “You should have aimed for me.”

Location: Neyrix, Lianna City, Lianna • Objective: Create terror on the way to the archives • Company: Aistrella | Maelridae | Rayijadni Nexu (x3) | Mekhisian Nexu • Opposition: Amni Kazda

Load Out:​

Armor:
Weapons: Velkyn Lash - whip
”Bloodfang” - Warblade
”Gravehook” - Tonfa-saber

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

| Location | Lianna, Outer Rim Territories
| Objective | II - Delenda Est - Locate the Data Vault


Valiantly, Itzhal fought against the smile that threatened to emerge, tantalisingly tugging at the corners of his lips, concealed as they were under the expressionless visage of his T-Visor. No one else would know—no one but him. Unyielding as the beskar'gam that adorned his frame, his resolve held against the barrage of questions that spilt from Avast's lips, each one akin to the rapid fire of a repeater blaster and utterly relentless as well. He almost pitied whoever ended up next on her firing line of questions.

"Attention in the now," he said, his voice firm with a hint of censure. There would be a time for rumours later, and well, if there wasn't then he wouldn't be around to deal with it regardless.

His steps were soft, a quiet hush in the still silence of a graveyard. Tombstones of plastoid littered the floor in a stark shade of white against the bland backdrop of grey that stretched further and further down the corridor, their bodies propped against the boarding slats that would have once served as cover. Izumi was right; these troopers had held the line, many of them with their weapons still pointed at the entrance-way. It hadn't saved them. The walls gleamed with a sickly stretched-out highlight, polished metal, untouched by the Sith's weapons of war.

Distortions in the area revealed themselves to the sensor equipment packed in Itzhal's buy'ce, casting an unusual hue over the outlines of everything around him in a 360-degree view. Strange shifting colours formed before his eyes even registered the sight of the menacing figures lurking in the shadows around them. With purposeful determination, he prowled forward, each step calculated and firm, devouring the path ahead, regardless of the threats that were surely about to descend upon them.

Reinforced durasteel plates, layered in waves that added noticeable thickness to the structure, marked the end of the corridor with a sleek metal archway that framed the door. Itzhal didn't hesitate; he marched ahead, his head raised high as the two Mandalorians were forced to keep up or find themselves slacking behind just like the faded silhouettes that dogged their steps.

The door released a shriek—loud and sharp—as he stepped through, his movements concealed by the grating sound that assaulted the air around them and carried over the haphazard assortment of terminals and walkways within the room beyond. Ladders, worn and sturdy, descended into shadowy crew-bays, stacked with dim-lit screens. While the walkways were polished to a shine, despite the obvious signs of marching footsteps, from where those above would have once watched over their subordinates. Only the time it was abandoned, the only sound was the footsteps of those who dared to intrude upon the Imperial tomb.

Itzhal's boot connected with the floor, rolling from his heel down towards the balls of his feet, then he twisted, his whole body shifting with the movement as Oath and Honour lifted into the air, barrels pointed, straight towards his fellow Mandalorian, "Avast, duck."

He pulled the triggers—crimson light bathed the room.

Tags: Avast Verd Niijima Izumi​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Then I am afraid you will die of thirst before you're able to slake it." The two of them, and the entourage that accompanied them, continued to walk straight into the jaws of the awaiting Imperial ambush. Carnifex moved as deep into the ambush zone as He could, while the Dark Valkyries at His back fanned out in a loose semi-circle. They kept their hands on the blades slackened at their hips, but did not draw them. They would not make any move without the Dark Lord's permission, so tightly bound were they to Him in fidelity.

His eyes settled on the Imperial, the faintest glimmer of recognition passing between Himself and His adversary. This was the same brazen man that had foolishly sought to strike at Him on Brosi. There could be no doubt to the man's boldness, but the line between foolishness and bravery was a infamously thin one.

Time would tell which happened to be true this time.

"Only the weak bemoan their fate," was all that the Dark Lord said in response to the Imperial's words. He strictly believed that the exercise of power was self-legitimizing, and that those who held power could do whatever they wanted with it. The weak only existed to suffer the iniquities of the strong, to be subject to their whims at any given moment. It didn't matter what that power was used for, good or ill, so long as one had the power and the will to change the galaxy around them.

He didn't even bother to look back at Mia either, keeping His gaze firmly set forward. He'd sensed her churning animosity long before He physically saw her, He knew just how badly she wanted to kill Him. That they stood side-by-side now was only a temporary arrangement, one that could fall apart at any moment. He wondered if she'd take this opportunity, or if she'd stay her blade long enough to handle their shared foe first.

Either way, He was sure to be amused.

Mia Monroe | Ronhar Tane | Teckla Tane ​

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

ADONIS ANGELIS IV
Mandalorian Knight of House Angelis | Risen Son of Vaal | Vanguard of the Manda

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Adonis followed Korda in without hesitation, stepping through the ruined doorway as the last remnants of durasteel settled around them. The shift was immediate, where outside was fire, chaos, and noise, inside was quiet, it was tighter. The air hung heavy with smoke and heat. It felt like every sound carried further than it should have, and in the center of it were Adonis and Korda and the rage of the Mandalorian Empire behind them.

The Mandalorian adjusted his visor as they carefully moved through the structure. He locked onto heat signatures further in the building, small ones huddled together. Good, it meant they weren't too late. His visor shifted, scanning more, and he saw much larger heat signatures surrounding the smaller ones, all of them equipped with large guns. Not good.

The warrior's grip tightened slightly around his weapon as they continued, falling back to Korda's shoulder. He wasn't in front nor behind, but he stood equal with his vod as they waded through the base together. The reptile had already slinked off, deeper into the building, likely scouting ahead.

"I have heat signatures, they're still alive." He said over the comms to Korda Veydran . "So are the Imperials." He continued, this time his tone a bit more sharp. He wanted the other Mandalorian to know what they, and Oro were going to be getting into. As he finished, a shadow moved in the corner of his eye, at the end of the hallway, a shadow that didn't belong. Adonis didn't wait, he didn't pause, he rounded the corner with his weapon drawn.

He stepped forward, closing the distance fast as the first Imperial rounded the corner, weapon already raising. The shot never landed. Adonis was on him before the trigger finished its pull, driving him back into the wall with enough force to crack it, the impact echoing down the hall. He let the Imperial's body slump to the floor unceremoniously. It would be a sign to all other Imperials what they were here to do.

"The kids are deeper in." He said as he continued forward, his weapon now drawn and ready to go after any other Imperials waiting for them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Quinn Varanin | Aerik Lechner | Kaelen Voss | Lysander von Ascania | Irina Jesart | Vytal Noctura | Acier Moonbound | Aselia Verd

Something in Quinn’s smile shifted, the small tension from before subtly relaxing. Adelle inclined her head as the Queen of Eshan made introductions, though she caught some kind of unspoken fracture between Quinn and the other Sith woman—Irina—present. Vytal introduced herself, fortunately, asking if anyone had come for a telling from the Voss mystics. Lysander’s greeting was smooth and carried the charisma of someone trained more for aristocratic courts than the chaos reported in the Core.

His introduction of his white-haired shadow niggled at her memory, the strange sense of recognition stronger but still elusive. Acier’s seeming familiarity with Quinn though earned far more attention.

Adelle turned her attention to the other Sith, turning a blind eye to whatever conversation followed Acier’s question.

“Adelle Bastiel, Mandalorian ambassador and Iron Lord,” she said, introducing herself. She gestured to Vytal. “You’ve already met Warmaster Noctura. This is Aselia Verd, vod of the Mand’alor.”

A small, sly smile lifted the corner of her mouth. “And someone you call when you need something erased.”

She turned her direct attention to Lysander, since he had directly addressed them. “A conversation would be welcome. I’m not much for mystic fortune-telling, even if they are supposed to be accurate. But a sparring match? You might find Aselia to be the better opponent.”

That earned an almost-laugh from Aselia, more breath than sound.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’ve seen you fight. You’d do just as well,” she said. “I recall you fighting two Mand’alors in the recent verd’goten.”

“With five others,” Adelle corrected.

“Details.” Aselia’s smile held all the self-satisfaction of someone who knew they were correct. Adelle hated that she couldn’t really deny it.

Spoiler: OOC

Aselia's writer has given permission to write her response to keep the thread moving.

 

[Mia Monroe]

Tags: Darth Carnifex Teckla Tane Ronhar Tane​

Mia’s lips curled into a humourless smile as Carnifex’s response. “Maybe, maybe not. Depends on how well protected your phylacteries are.”

She didn’t elaborate. She didn’t need to. Instead her focus shifted fully to the ambush they were walking into, coming to a halt as the imperial stepped forward shouting. Her sensors tracked the knight moving to circle her while her visor angled towards the source of venom filled words.

There could have been a number of things she could have said in response. She could have highlighted that the destruction wrought here was only in response to the destruction they had tried to bring about on Brosi. She could have reminded him that during peaceful negotiations it was his government that had decided to attempt the abduction of a number of Mandalorians. Or she could have told him that if she shared the pleasure of killing the man at her side it would be with her own people, not with the likes of him.

But it was all words, hollow and empty.

He knew nothing of honour.

“Ne'johaa."

Her hands reached out, fists closing as the force wrapped around the walls of buildings either side of them, the structure groaning and snapping as permacrete gave way, each chunk hurtling for the pair with the force and speed of a fighter.

 

[Avast Verd]

| Location | Lianna, Outer Rim Territories
| Objective | II - Delenda Est - Locate the Data Vault
Itzhal Volkihar Niijima Izumi

The Pathfinder ducked just as blaster fire still hissed past overhead, painting the room in sharp red flashes. She wasn't sure what had been hit, but she heard the thumps echo across the ground.

"Tough crowd…" Avast muttered under her breath, the ghost of a grin tugging at her voice as she rose smoothly from the duck before falling back into position behind Itzhal, pistol already up and tracking.

"Alright then… we do it the hard way."

Going back into position, she worked towards clearing the corridor. Her visor tilted slightly as she swept the upper levels, the vents, and anything in the shadows that didn't sit right.

She'd seen stranger things out in space while charting hyperlanes through the Paths.

Was that what they were dealing with here?

 

[Na Ri]

Na Ri didn't answer him. Not when he snapped. Not when the edge in his voice cut through the space between them. She didn't have the breath for it; and even if she did, there was nothing she could say that would reach him the way he was now.

So she let it pass.

The rest of the climb was quieter. Not easier; never that, but quieter in the way things became when there was no room left for anything but movement. Step by step. Breath by breath. Or what little of it she could manage. By the time they reached the top, her world had narrowed to the sound of her own breathing; thin, uneven, catching more often than not. When the exit finally broke open ahead of them, the rush of outside air didn't bring relief the way it should have.

It just… hurt differently.

She stepped out after him, the open sky above fractured by streaks of fire and falling debris. The ground trembled beneath her feet as distant bombardments continued, the world around them unraveling in slow, violent collapse. Na Ri staggered once, before catching herself.

The cough came hard. It bent her forward, sharper than anything before it, dragging through her chest until her vision blurred at the edges. She pressed the cloth to her mouth, but it didn't quiet it; not anymore. When it finally eased, her breath didn't return properly. It stayed shallow, uneven, like there was less of it each time.

She straightened slowly. He was already moving, and of course he would be. Her eyes followed him as he limped toward the transports, the distance between them beginning to widen with each step he took. For a second, it looked like she might let him go; just another person passing through her life the way she had always intended. There were no ties, no weight, no reason to stay. But something held...not obligation, not gratitude...just something unfinished. Something so much so unfinished that compelled her to take another step forward, and then another. Her pace was slower, uneven in places, but she followed the same direction; toward the line of departing ships...toward him.

Na Ri wasn't even sure what she was doing. It wasn't to stop him, or to call out to him. All she knew was that her feet carried what her mind didn't follow, and that no matter how much she thought it would be a good idea to not do just the opposite, she found herself not walking away from the man. When she reached the perimeter, she paused briefly, her gaze shifting between the transports, then settling on the one he had approached. Her breath caught again, threatening another cough, but she steadied it just enough to keep moving.

By the time she reached the base of the ramp, she didn't look at him directly, like she had never intended to go anywhere else. Only when she passed him did she speak; soft enough that it didn't carry far. "…I will see a doctor," she said. Then, quieter still; "…once we're off this world." Outside Lianna burned, but inside Na Ri stayed, playing through her mind quietly everything she had witnessed and experienced for the short amount of time she had been there.

[EXIT]
Prisoner #36929​