Junction They Came From The Wall | SO & HR Junction of Ord Vaug and Bassadro

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Bastila Sal-Soren //: Aurelian Veruna //:

Her hopes that the occupants had evacuated were quickly dashed. Quinn had done her best to plug in her device and hoped it would charge fast enough for her to call Bastila before anything happened. While the thing that happened wasn't as disastrous as a building collapsing, it was still the worst moment in the young Echani Queen's life.

She felt movement, but had decided to remain as still as possible.

Hopefully, whoever had lingered decided to keep moving past her. Instead, for once in his life, Aurelian was quite aware of everything around him. As his mouth opened, the jarring pitch of his voice made the Echani turn her head quickly.

There, a sight that she wished to NEVER see was right there. The King of Naboo was wet from the shower in a fluffy robe. Bile rose up the back of her throat, but never escaped — instead, she slipped on her heels and tumbled back into the wall and dropped her device.

Before she could scream in horror, Bastila appeared. Quinn sat against the wall, knees bent inward for modesty, and her heart pounding in her chest. This was not how this was supposed to go, but at least she wasn't stuck in the same room alone with Aurelian.

Listening to the man getting scolded, Quinn took the opportunity to stand and dust herself off. A small chime from her device announced that it was finally charging and had a small signal.

Bastila finally turned her attention to the Queen, and Quinn nodded towards the device to answer the first statement. "I tried, but…" Seeing the device was enough to know that while the intent was there, she couldn't call.

Quinn did her best to hide the way she looked at Bastila. Despite that effort, there was a gentleness that just couldn't be masked, and Quinn took a step towards the Padawan as she brushed back her cropped blonde hair.

She stopped, even if she wanted to reach out — with Aurelian there, she couldn't. Already the Jedi were conspiring against her, looking for ways to unravel her involvement with the High Republic. Quinn wasn't sure whether the King was involved or had been part of those with concerns.

Getting Bastila potentially more deeply involved in this could ruin everything they had.

Her eyes settled on the woman and nodded, "It's why I'm here, yes. I wish I could have been quicker." She shifted her stance, trying to find a way to deliver her message that was both comfortable and easy.

"The Sith, their goal is to raid the Biomolecule companies here. I'm unsure of what they're looking for… but it's a main target." She glanced at Aurelian to gauge his reaction, but her focus returned to Bastila.

"They're also looking to hit the Jedi temples. There's a lot of information and data on New Cov, and to have access to it… It's invaluable."

Already with the attack on Tython, previous attacks on Courscant and Woostri… New Cov would only add to the Sith Order's collection. If Quinn hadn't taken the time to warn Bastila, she would have taken advantage of the access the Darza had created to the temples. While her intent was not malicious… it was still information that didn't belong to her.

But she needed it.

"I…" Quinn sighed and brushed her hair back again, a nervous habit.

"I wanted to make sure you weren't here. But you are — so if you will, we can get off this planet before it's overrun by the Sith." Quinn then looked to Aurelian.

"They don't know you're here, how fortunate for you — so we should probably keep it that way."

As she looked at Bastila, her presence momentarily expanded. The Padawan had felt her potential before, and Quinn felt safe enough to allow it to happen again. Carefully, almost like a gentle caress of skin against skin, Quinn allowed their presences to press against each other.

It was her way of letting Bastila know: I've missed you, I'm glad you're safe.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Cali Ziiva​

Different strokes for different folks? Kasir had not the slightest clue as to what that meant. He had no desire to either. The stack or titles, badges, whatever they were had already done their damage to his patience; this was simply another insult to the absurdity. The saberstaff held its line. He didn't budge an inch; he didn't advance either. Anger within was brewing quietly, just as storms would.

"That is your concern? Out of everything happening around you.. ruin, bodies, that is the hill you choose to die on? My opinion of your.. aesthetics?"

It began spreading outward in cold waves; his signature bled into the air. A cathedral shadow stretching across the field, daring to dim any brightness that wished to exist. Surely other's would feel it too, but he was only focused on the figure before him. "You look pretty cozy," Kasir gestured to the street with an open hand, "while they all die."

A glance skimmed the loop at her hip, then drifted back to the pink face confronting him. "At least you have finally put the toy away. Must mean you're capable of learning something, after all."

He acknowledged that things could, theoretically, be worse. If anything, at least the pattern here was somewhat predictable..

In the space between them, a mirthless sound slipped free. "Does your endless commentary actually help? Or is it just your way of dealing with not having a clue what's going on?"

The corner of his mouth twitched, just enough to bare a single fang. The galaxy's most decorative nuisance had already cost him more attention than deserved.

"Your hair is loud."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Quinn Varanin | Bastila Sal-Soren

"How convenient. How awfully convenient you are here," Aurelian barked, his voice dripping with venom. This was officially a nightmare. He had spent the morning imagining a surprise late night visit from Sibylla Abrantes , not an ambush by the woman he considered the galaxy's premier headache. He watched with a clinical sort of detachment as Quinn scrambled to her feet, nearly losing her dignity to her own heels. "Smooth," he added, just as Bastila finally decided to join the party.

The King pointed at Quinn in utter disbelief while Bastila played the part of the weary parent. When the Jedi turned her scolding toward him, questioning his responsiveness, he offered a sarcastic shrug. "I was showering. It takes effort to stay this perfect, Bastila. You should try it sometime; the Force loves a good exfoliation." Despite the bravado, he took the hint about the rising danger. He ducked into the expansive closet, leaving the door wide open as he listened to their hushed, urgent exchange.

Trousers and boots went on first. He reached for a crisp silk shirt and walked back into the common area just as Quinn pointed out that the Sith were unaware of his presence. He pulled the fabric over his head, catching her gaze through the collar. "Try not to stare, blondie. I know it's a lot to take in."

Something was deeply wrong with the energy in the room. He watched the way they looked at each other, the lingering silence, and the nauseatingly soft expressions. If the rumors were true, he'd be having a very long, very loud conversation with Bastila later about her choice in company. The girl could do significantly better than a child queen with self confidence issues.

"How do we know this isn't a trap? You could be leading us right into a boarding craft," he said. He stepped into Quinn's personal space, radiating suspicion. "If I'm not mistaken, there's still a price on my head because of you. Forgive me if I don't find your sudden concern for our safety heartwarming."

Aurelian turned his back on Quinn, looking directly at Bastila. "I don't trust her. Dispose of her." He paused, catching the look on the Jedi's face and remembering his diplomatic obligations. "Well, don't actually dispose of her. I made daddy Mando a pinky promise not to start an interstellar incident between the Mandalorians and Republic. But make her go away. We need to find a way off this rock that doesn't involve me becoming a Sith trophy."

​

 

[Cali Ziiva]

Friends! None
Not Friends? Kasir Dorran
Objective: Keep Sekrit Stuff Safe, and One Zeltron Army the Sith (or Something)
Equipment of Note: Mobile Workshop, Lightsaber (Blue) with Lens Modulator, Bubblegum Popper Gloves

​

Toy? Did he honestly not know what a wrench--? Of course not. Few people did. They just thought the whole galaxy maintained itself. The places she'd seen...! A little preventative maintenance wouldn't kill anyone.

"Huh?" Cali blinked and then turned her eyes upward. "Oh. Thanks! I mean, I don't really blend in. Hey," she snapped and pointed a finger at him. "Don't change topics again. You still haven't told me your name. Or why you're here. Or what is going on. And, really, you all need to stop killing people, but you never listen. Ever. You know, I think beating a beskar helmet with a stick would have more effect over time than trying to convince a red-glowstick wielding naughty like yourself not to go around killing innocent people."

The Zeltron planted her hips and squinted at Kasir. Not glared. Not scowled. Just... squinted. It was the best he was going to get, so he might as well accept it.

With a heavy expulsion of breath, Cali's hand dropped to the holstered blaster at her side. "I really, really don't like this part, ya know? No reason to kill people. No reason to fight. It's just wrong. But you aren't going to let me leave, and I can't let you run around hurting people, so..." the blaster started to draw from the holster.

Whether he let the Zeltron finish uninterrupted or not, what Kasir would find was not a blaster pistol pointed at him, but a cylindrical rod held in a pink hand. One modeled and painted to look like the barrel of a pistol. When the blue blade snapped free it'd become clear it was in fact a lightsaber.

"Please surrender." He wouldn't. They just didn't. Cali wished they would.

 

[Feng Huang]

Objective 1: The Profane Temple
Opponent: Ellissanthia

Feng searched around in the chaos caused by the Sith onslaught. She was guarding a group of padawans, trying to get them to the evacuation point. Feng was terrified, not for herself, but for the padawans, the fear that they would perish and that she would be the one who had failed to protect them.

It would be easy to give into her fears, and her passions to engage in the defence of the temple, but she knew in her heart she was doing the most important defence of the temple. Defending its future. Truthfully Feng did not know if she had authority over her fellow padawans. They had been training and meditating in the gardens in a class taught by one of the masters. When the Sith attacked the master had attempted to get them all out but had been challenged in the halls by a Sith.

The masters last words had been.

"Feng take the others to the hangar"

So, Feng had obeyed even as every instinct had been telling her to fight by the master's side. Feng had instead mastered her desires and proceeded to lead the others to safety. Fortunately they made it all the way to the hangar without losing anyone. They saw evidence of the attacks throughout, but it was as if they were playing some obscure deadly mixture of tag and hide and seek, one that moved and flowed. Without realising it Feng had marshalled the Force to her will, projecting not invisibility, but a sense of unimportance around her group. In a scene of a Sith attack quite often the Sith were dependent on their passions. While a group of padawans might be easy targets, there were other prey to be had.

Feng made it to the hangar, and started shuffling the padawans onto a freighter. Feng's force sense for threats was wide open, she sensed a dark presence, yet familiar approaching. She paused confused trying to work out how she would know such a dark person.

"Quickly now onto the ship" Feng commanded quickly.

"Feng we can fight!" A young Falleen boy declared.

"Live today fight tomorrow" Feng said gently resting her hand on the young boys cheek no older than fourteen. "The master may have given her life for this chance. Don't waste her sacrifice."

The Falleen boy sprung tears from his eyes, closed them gave Feng a quick hug and got on the ship. Feng locked the door behind them, travelled down the ramp to face her foe.

"You're too late the others have already left" Feng declared boldly, shifting her stance she ignited her lightsaber.

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAGS: Kivah Ra'Shayne Vorr Mykel Dawson Onasius Gruwel​

On a better day, she'd be guarding the temple. The temple her mentor, her friend, had been trained at.

But she had a feeling. An itch under her fur that was dragging her kicking and screaming to the biolabs. She'd been there before, investigating a kidnapping, but she never really acquainted herself with the lab. She'd spent the last few hours doing so, spreading a light breeze through the facility as she waited for the sith to come.

It didn't take a genius to know New Cov was a target. The blackwall had been stirring with build up along it for weeks now.

But Jonyna stood firm.

And she kept that breeze going, extending her senses through it.

As three sith entered, she felt the push air aside, getting a picture of them as they did.

One creature she was unfamiliar with. One that she'd probably have to deal with later.

And yet...

Two she was intimately familiar with. Two shapes that were unmistakable. Cathar. Denik, even. Her people.

The truth was, she never hated the sith. She couldn't stand the people in them, but that had nothing to do with ideology. It had everything to do with actions. The things they chose to do.

But more and more she saw it swallowing her people. As the tribal sage, her people had an ideal.

Slay the beast, you save more than you will trying to reason with it.

She moved like the wind, and moved to intercept. Much like her fellow Cathar, she moved silently.

And there she found them. Jonyna silently moved, before leaning up against the wall.

<You two are far from home.> Jonyna spoke in her native tongue for once, hand on her swords.

 

[Kasir Dorran]

Cali Ziiva​

Her words should've just deflected off reason entirely. A brow twitched in a reflexive way of someone unaccustomed to being challenged. The galaxy as he knew it was never maintained by wishful thinking nor neglected hands. His gaze was unblinking while tracing the contours of the pink one's words, though he could not account for why he had bothered to parse them at all.

There was a gradual descent of his shoulders. Weight redistributed into his heels, muscles preparing itself. Lips of a muted color pursed when her finger snapped; the hint of a smirk, or was it disdain? Almost if he were some droid that refused a direct order.

The killing speech sounded like rehearsed. She accused Sith of never listening, yet offered nothing he had not already heard, so what outcome did she actually anticipate?

"That's quite a manifesto."

He would have offered a name, but his had a way of preceding things, like the way a guillotine precedes dropping. "Name's don't matter here," murmured instead. "You've already built a version of me in your mind that is easier for you to argue with."

A blue saber, as it turned out, and speaking of innocence. A consistent personality trait; if nothing else. But it gave no authority. Too many used it as a shield for their conscience, something Kasir had so such apologies for.

His breath arrested momentarily, the catch amplified by ominous stillness. Entropy dressed as empathy was a sleight of hand he possessed no patience for. When it came to the melee, he saw only black and white.

"It's you who will surrender to me." Indifferent, already, to whatever rebuttal might follow; the spirits of many bore the memory of his icy touch.

At last, the saberstaff lowered; many believed this weapon belonged to berserkers, spinning wildly and outsourcing all thinking to momentum. Kasit had no such relationship with it. No, he understood the rotational inertia as a mathematician. There were so many ways to initiate a duel, and he'd explored them all in the quiet hours upon Mustafar in Wonosa's enclave. It always existed in the mind first.

Perhaps that was why, taking her life in a single blow no longer registered as cruelty. Still, clinch range could wait. Both wrists shifted and the blades resumed to control the orbit around him. Hums of plasma traced continuous circles.

Stepping off to the side followed; but that was not a predatory snap that most assumed. Precisely the point. Should she follow, it was normally capable of compressing footwork, narrowing one's stance in answer to the lateral shift. The smallest misalignment in balance could always be exploited in a single breath. There were plenty of ways to manipulate your foe that had nothing to do with intimidation.

Even more terrifying, the Sangnir's lithe frame lied; what moved beneath was a dark machine, capable of Nexu like acceleration with the raw strength of a Gundark to match. The blades soon found a rather merciful line toward her position and closed the remaining distance in a single diagonal slash.

​

 

[Darth Strosius]

Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Corazona von Ascania / Novac Lyrikal
--------------------------------------------

The archives themselves proved an easier spot to access than anticipated, being a separate building from the main temple which He assumed most of the defenses and defenders would be centered around. Darth Strosius had no intention of throwing Himself at the prepared temple and wasting time and effort carving through them when there were plenty of others which could do so in His stead. The more of a ruckus that was caused the easier it was for His own infiltration to go unnoticed and uninterrupted.

His first steps into the archive building weren't accompanied with shouts or the distinctive roars of combat, they were gradual. Measured and tempered yet at the same time undeniable given the echo that they produced, rivaling the sounds of battle happening outside of the walls. His hidden gaze swept over the first floor, open and undoubtedly welcoming for the Jedi that sought the knowledge contained within. For Darth Strosius though, He was more watchful for any signs of movement that might interrupt His incursion.

Rarely was anything of value sat right at the front door and as such He made His way further inside with a glance upwards to where the other two floors of the building were. The best of what this archive had to offer should be higher up, away from prying eyes and out of reach of any interlopers that could sneak in on the ground floor. Which more than likely meant that anyone or anything wanting to safeguard the archives would be upstairs as well, a notion which caused Him to draw His lightsaber into His hand and rest His thumb on the ignition switch as His march continued.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Darth Umbra
​

Exchange of fire began, the Jedi's blue blade deflecting blaster fire back at their opponents. Umbra had reached out with the force seemingly taking the life out of a trooper before him.

​

Aiden's hand extended outward, an invisible barrier between the troopers to his left, protecting them from fire as they secured their positions. And Aiden's saber wielding hand shot forward, sending a force push towards Umbra, looking to break his concentration and disrupt the attack on his allies.

"I will not leave, Jedi," Umbra shot back at the beacon of Light standing before him, "It is time for you to die."

"I've heard this many times before, and I'm still here. Give me your best shot, I guarantee it won't be enough."

 

[Kito]

//: Lily Decoria //:
//: Darth Carnifex //: Reina Daival //:

Kito was silent as Lily spoke. As much as she was growing fond of her Master, Kito wondered if the woman realized how capable she was. There was a need to impress, to prove herself worthy. At times, Kito felt like a child, the Force explained to her in a way one would speak to a youngling.

Still, she understood her Master's reasoning. It was better to fully explain something than to assume the student knew. But because she understood it, that doesn't mean she enjoyed it. Kito's eyes followed her Master, the woman's determination and strength evident in the way she taught. Kito gleaned enough about Lily to understand her strengths and weaknesses.

But Kito didn't agree with the plan. Staying close by… playing the second fiddle to her Master's attacks… It felt pointless and too safe. The Sith were animals; they didn't plot or plan like this, and playing it safe would only hurt them in the long run.

"Master…" Kito started as they began to move. "I think—" before she could start her rebuttal of the plan, Lily confirmed the situation. There was someone here who bled the dark side like an open wound. The rebuttal was lost now as Kito's senses fully focused on the pair that stood before them. The hulk of a man and the hooded and masked figure beside him.

While Kito wanted to focus on the larger and more powerful of the two, there was something sickeningly familiar about the shorter of the pair. Kito's hand tightened at the hilt of the odachi, the sacred blade nearly screaming in the back of the girl's mind. It wanted to taste the obliteration of the Dark Side.

Her Master called out to the man, whose name the woman knew. Kito filed it away; she wondered if killing him would free her from the burden she wielded. Kito's hand ached from how tightly she was holding the hilt of her blade. The echo of her Master's whisper lingered on the edge of her mind, fueled by the Force Valor she imparted on the girl.

Together...

A word she couldn't trust. Almost instantly, the Padawan faded from sight, folding her presence and body into the Force. She moved quickly, under the guise of invisibility; the Sith weren't smart enough for this, they didn't know the power of a Shadow.

Kito took advantage of her Master, drawing the man's attention as she closed in; her body would appear, and the roaring, righteous flame of the Blessed Odachi would burn a white fire. She remained grounded, the blade swinging at an angle, looking to bisect the man. If the heated edge didn't touch, she hoped the fire would at least burn. Whatever she did, Kito hoped it was an opening, or even better — a fatal strike.

It was a foolish attack, but one that could potentially end the fight early.

They didn't need to fight together; they needed to be precise. Her Master feared what Kito didn't. Death was not the end; it was only the first step towards redemption.

Despite her resolve, there was a voice in the back of her mind. One that reminded her of promises made in a hidden villa on Eshan. While not fearing death, Kito feared what would happen if she did die. That thought pushed her forward.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

OBJ 1 | The Profane Temple | Darth Strosius | Novac Lyrikal​

New Cov Jedi Temple Archives - Second Floor.

"I'm visiting too, for what it's worth." Cora gave Novac a halfhearted, tired smile. Something somber lingered at the edge of her lips. "Meet me back here, please. Be careful, and may the Force be with you."

As Padawan Lyrikal left to prepare himself, Cora turned on her heel and began gathering artifacts that had been removed from the vault for study. Holocrons, rare tomes one wrong breath away from crumbling – knowledge of both the Light and Dark were guarded closely here, and certain texts were heavily restricted in who could access them.

Once Novac returned, Cora wordlessly shoved a stack of ancient literature into the serpent's arms. "I fear that many not slow them down," she said grimly. "You can if you wish. But first – we make for the third floor. These are rare artifacts, and they must be returned to the vault."

The pair of Jedi were quick to ascend the narrow, winding staircase to the library's roof. Cora balanced several holocrons in the crook of her arm as she pressed her palm to the vault's scanner. Several layers of energy shields winked out, and the thick metal door began to creep upward with a low groan. Cora motioned for Novac to follow her and set the borrowed items back in their rightful place.

"Padawan," she spoke, voice soft as they worked. "Is this the first time you've face the threat of live combat?"

A familiar presence lingered in the air. No sooner had she asked her question did that presence solidify into something real – something dangerous. The flesh bordering her prosthetic hand began to throb now. The warning wasn't distant anymore. It was here.

The fingers of Cora's prosthesis curled around the hilt of her lightsaber, easing the weapon from her belt with a whisper of metal on fabric. "Padawan," she spoke slowly this time, tempered durasteel beneath the softness of her voice. "Something...does not feel as it should. Stay here, I will investigate."

Whether or not Novac chose to stay or slither after her was his choice, but as Cora crept down the staircase, what came to her in the Force felt more certain.

In the recesses of her mind, the white-hot pain of having her hand severed, the helplessness and humiliation, played ad nauseam.

 

[Novac Lyrikal]

Darth Strosius Corazona von Ascania

perhaps it was good novac stayed, with all his arms and tail it was easy to carry everything to the vault. less trips meant less time they could be attacked. 'is this the first time you've faced combat' she asked. it was, novac knew he was inexperienced, "yes it is. i mean i've had sparring sessions with my master but that doesn't really count," his master had trained him best she could, novac definitely could react to stuff quickly since his master specialized in force speed. but how much would that and the sparring be worth in real combat. as he helped put the items back in their rightful spot he said, "but, theres few things in my favor. first, my master was amazing at force speed and i've learned to react to things pretty fast. second, the building. theres plenty of shelves which means i have more movement option then most. oh i should explain that, i more or less use the force to cling to surfaces like walls or ceilings or what not. it was originally to make up for my lack of force jump but now it can be useful in battle, attack from places the enemy doesnt expect." something wasnt right? stay here?

novac stood there for a moment as he watched her go. he took a comlink out of his pocket "hk, you get you blaster and sword yet?"

hk responded back "yes sir, im coming to your position now. running into a problem, theres troops out here. im not able to make it to you yet."

"thats fine. infact get some of the droids from the frigate. the vultures and get um the sentinels, k1-z3n's, and uh the kr-82's. if we need to we can have the annihilation xrr-3 join the fight, rather not though, not yet at least. and remember i can repair all of you if you get damaged so dont worry to much. that being said hk try not to ok? all lf you stay togeter, go where your needed, help others if you can. stay safe, gotta go." novac had his face in his top right hand, this was really happening. he and many others could die here today. no he wouldn't, he was just a padawan, he wont die and make his mater mourn him.

he turned and followed corazona down to the next floor. he had sure that the door amd shields closed behind him. no turning back now. he slithered down the stairs quickly to catch up to corazona below, as he did he pulled his lightsabers out, they where in their polearm configuration, and held them tightly in his left hands. 'dont be afraid, you've been trained to be able to fight..will it pay of though' he thought.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Strength and will, my apprentice. It is all that drives this galaxy."

He watched Reina affix her mask from the corner of His eye, waiting until she'd finished before wrenched the ground up beneath their feet. As one, the pair ascended the mountainside aloft a chunk of earth and stone, the mass crawling along the cliff face like a mechanical lift. Pieces of the ground beneath their feet gave away as they ascended, falling back down to where they were until the edges had all been smoothed down and the platform resembled a flat disc.

A pair already awaited them, one of which the Dark Lord found immense amusement in laying eyes on. Stepping from the platform and onto solid ground, Darth Carnifex and His apprentice Reina approached the two Jedi. "You've brought another to die, Decoria? Unwise." The Dark Lord took the lead, stepping several paces ahead of His apprentice so that He was partially set between her and the two Jedi; as if He was waiting in anticipation.

The moment came not a breath later, the younger girl disappeared from sight and sense. A trick of the Shadows, once which had spelt the end for many an enterprising Sith.

But not the Dark Lord, His eyes tracked her even now.

Her strike came in deep and fast, enough strength behind it to cleave flesh as if it were paper. His hand was already moving, slipping into position to intercept the padawan's blade before she'd even leaned into her swing. He caught the blazing edge between His index and middle finger, the blade's momentum grinding to a tumultuous halt. Try as hard as she might, she would find the Dark Lord's nominally light hold on her weapon nigh unbreakable; fastened as it was with the Touch of the Kiin'Dray.

"An unwise master will only foster an unwise apprentice," lamented the Dark Lord, flicking the padawan's blade away from His hand with a dismissive clang of metal on metal. What came next could only be described as a pressure wave with the strength of a sledgehammer slamming up towards the padawan's upper chest, carrying enough force to send her flying end over end like a ragdoll.

Out of the corner of His eyes, He spoke to His apprentice. "This is her?" This time it was a rhetorical question, and the Dark Lord expected no answer. "Do what must be done, my apprentice." His gaze returned to Lily, His lightsaber slipping free of its sheath at His hip and flying into His outstretched right hand. The blade crackled to life, spitting plasma that seemed to writhe and roar with the Dark Side.

"Show me what you've learned, Decoria."

Reina Daival | Lily Decoria | Kito ​

 

[Reina Daival]

//: Darth Carnifex Lily Decoria Kito
//: Location: New Cov //:
//: Outfit //:

Of course She had to be here. Why wouldn't she be? Throwing herself in with the High Republic. Reina couldn't entirely fault Kito for it. They were both like wild dogs, having looked for somewhere to belong. Kito had found the High Republic. Had found a Master who had accepted her. The same had not applied to Reina when she had made that attempt. Instead the one who had accepted her was a Sith. Strange how that worked. Those who had rejected Reina, out of fear it would make her worse, had pushed her in the direction of those who wished to nurture her worse habits.

Her gaze did not leave Kito whatsoever. She knew once again that the woman would be her opponent. The master would belong to Him alone. Hiding your presence through the Force was something Reina was somewhat acquainted with, back when she had attempted to learn how to be a Shadow during the time of the Hidden Path. So as Kito vanished from view, the Siren knew what was happening. Though somewhat unfortunately for her, Reina had not learned a counter for it. Even as her muscles braced, ready to leap to meet Kito's blade, that moment never came as He would caught the Padawan's blade instead. Not a single answer came for the rhetorical question. She was as silent as death itself.

And thus she would do what must be done. As soon as He sent out the pressure wave, Reina launched herself from where she was stood, kicking up dust and dirt in a small cloud, the blade of her saber igniting in a scorching crimson heat. Unlike the previous time, there would be no hesitation. She could not allow Kito any sense of familiarity. Any moment of hesitation, any attempt of mercy would risk the woman Reina so desperately wanted to view as a friend to find out who her foe was.

It was time to fall back on her original style, as she launched herself up into the air to flip over Kito. Ataru had been her first form, the one she had worked on when she had lost her leg. Instead of the strong heavy strikes she had started working on recently with Djem-So, her plan of attack was aerial barrages. Using the Force to enhance her speed, her endurance as she slashed out from above, before twisting herself around in an attempt to attack the Fireshaper from behind. This was not a fight Reina could afford to show mercy in. Not anymore.

​

 

[Kivah]

Tags: Mykel Dawson | Jonyna Si | Ra'Shayne Vorr | Onasius Gruwel
Gear: Infiltration Suit, Goggles, Comm, Lightsabers, Pistol, W-14 Light Machine Gun, Satchel Charge
Location: Sixth Floor of New Cov Biomolecule HQ

Turning at the intrusion, Kivah scowled to see Jonyna posted up next to the door. <Well if it isn't the Eye of the Storm, the Great Sage, here to set us on the path of moral virtuosity.> The disdain dripped sarcasm as Kivah replied in their native tongue. Flicking her tail out to the side, Kivah sat her butt against the side of the desk, a head floating on a near invisible body thanks to the light bending properties of the shadow silk in her stealth suit. Shifting her similarly stealthed duffle bag around, she crossed her arms over it, hoping to distract from the screen showing the files being copied over to the comm strapped to her forearm under her sleeve.

Noting Jonyna's hands on her weapons, Kivah stood again. Squaring her feet as she drew her hood back up to disappear her head. <Tell me, Sister, have you bothered to learn my name yet? Or are you content to draw on and murder me without knowing who I am?> It was a cheep shot, calling back to when the two had briefly met on Coruscaunt. Kivah had freshly left Cathar, still learning about the galaxy at large and not yet fallen in with the Sith. The Jedi had talked about helping her, about wanting to look out for her well-being, all the while calling her 'Sister,' not even caring enough to ask after Kivah's name. Different words and Kivah might have trusted her, but she'd only heard hollow words that sounded of deception and scams. Now the Cathar Sith was reminding her of that failing, throwing her hopes of helping her back in her face in an attempt to unsettle her. It was thin, but she knew the Master's reputation, and even with Ra'Shayne at her side, Kivah would take any sliver of advantage she could get.

 

[Cali Ziiva]

Friends! None
Not Friends? Kasir Dorran
Objective: Don't get Stabbed; Protecc Sekrit Stuff
Equipment of Note: Mobile Workshop, Lightsaber (Blue) with Lens Modulator, Bubblegum Popper Gloves

​

The Zeltron's feet shifted into position as the saber was brought into a guard at the front. "I'm sorry, Bob. If ya weren't destroying the city, I'd love to talk ya out of the hostility that consumes your thoughts. But, ya know, I can't let ya win."

What? If he wasn't going to introduce himself, and if he claimed she'd invented a version of him in her head... then why shouldn't Cali give him a name? Why not Bob? Bob was a good name.

Like Kasir Dorran , Cali didn't give off the usual vibes an opponent was used to sensing. There was no 'murderous intent' or 'leading Force aura' to the Zeltron that stood in the street faced off against a Sith warrior. Some people said they could sense what you were going to do from how you mentally projected your actions before you made them. If Cali had anything like that it was probably buried under the sickly sweetness that radiated off the bubblegum Pink One.

Unlike Kasir, the Zeltron didn't pace or circle with him as a predatory. She held her ground. Slight shifts and if necessary small steps would be taken to adjust her angle, but otherwise Cali remain in place. Didn't seem much point trying to keep him from guessing where she'd be when he struck. Or being 'agile' to dodge. Saber staff had plenty of reach unless the man didn't actually know how to use it. A firm guard ready to meet him was best.

When he did, her blue beam quickly moved to intercept one blade and then the other. Staff users didn't just strike with one end. Combat theory was entirely different. He could strike with one end, but then he might as well be holding a standard saber with a bit more range of motion. The danger of a staff came from the wider area of coverage, psychological threat, and unpredictability -- which end (or side) was he really striving to strike at in an exchange? Could be worse though. He could be able to hold on to one end and then have an insane reach advantage.

"Ya don't need to attack. I know ya want to, but ya don't have to. Not today. Just today." Of course, if they met tomorrow, Cali would make the same plea. All habits started somewhere.

 

[Atham Harek]

Tags: Open
Objective: Get into facility

Running, as it were, was not one of his favorite things.
​

Given the choice between running and not running, he would much obviously not run. But-

As it were, Atham Harek was given a task, and so were the other five Commandos with him. They were given advanced warning of the impending Imperial attack, and could only scrounge together so many Commandos to react. So, they had to run. The Sith were after something nefarious here, and Atham had his standing orders:

Don't let them take it, destroy the data if need be.

Destroying data was much easier than one expected. It was simply a matter of an electromagnet in the right spots, and physically destroying any hard drives if need be. His beret was fixed atop his head, proudly displayed, and his headset affixed over it. He checked his wrist, a datapad attached to it displaying that he was close to the facility. Close, in Commando terms, obviously, was about 300 meters. They were set upon by Sith invaders and raiders initially, but the Commandos made short work of them.

Atham himself dispatched a ne'er-do-well Sith with a shotgun. Shotguns were the true friends against Sith and Sith-adjacent rascals. They were effective, they were brutish, and they didn't ask too many questions. He racked his shotgun as he ran, reloading as he sprinted to the objective. If he was to complete the mission, the Republic would be safe from the data stored therein, or able to benefit from it. He was clear in his mind though, that it was better to destroy things hidden in secret labs than let them flourish into the known galaxy.

But, he was not a decision maker. He would leave that to his betters. He, was a scalpel, sent to cut.

​

 

[Warren of the Narrows]

​

The corridor felt different after what happened. Warren forced himself to move, even if his eyes lingered a little too long at the crumpled Sith on the floor. The glow from Del's disc was still there, faint against the stone, hitting the body at weird angles that made it look wrong. It didn't look like something that should be laying like that, not moving, not from an accident. It looked like something that should get back up.

His ears were still ringing. He swallowed hard and tore his gaze away, looking back toward Del. "Hey..." His voice came out quieter than he meant it to, but he didn't try to fix it. "It's okay, you..." He paused, jaw tightening a little. "You got him." The words felt bad sitting in his mouth, like he said something he wasn't supposed to, but they were true. Even if she hadn't meant to, she did.

His eyes flicked to Daxin for a second, just to make sure he was still there, still moving with them. That helped more than it should have.

"That was a Sith." His voice wasn't nearly as quiet this time. Saying it out loud made it worse somehow. It wasn't a story, it wasn't something a Master said to get a reaction out of a room. That was a Sith. Right there. His arm shifted without him really thinking about it, adjusting the bands Zaiya had given him. They tightened slightly against his forearm when he moved. He didn't know how to use them, not like this. Was he going to have to kill one of those things too?

"We shouldn't stay." He said finally, glancing behind them again like something might already be there. "We need to go to the evacuation site." He didn't wait for a full answer this time, already moving, a little faster now. If the Sith were this far in already, then they were late. That was the only way to think about it. Late.

The layout of the temple was harder to hold onto now. It had made sense before, when it was quiet and he could walk through it in his head. Now there were alarms, smoke, people running, things out of place. He still tried to follow it, picking turns based on what he remembered instead of what it looked like now. He had studied it before they got here. Warren liked stuff like that, structures, layouts, how things were put together. Selonians didn't have buildings like this back in the Narrows.

They were making good time. That was the weird part. After the incident, it seemed nothing else had jumped out at them. No more sounds, no more movement, just the noise of the Temple falling apart around them. Either way, they were getting closer. Warren slowed a little as they came up on another turn, something in the back of his head catching before he understood what it was.

Then it hit.

It wasn't slow, it didn't build. It just slammed into him like something had formed behind his eyes and then tried to push through. His steps caught and his hand came up without thinking, pressing hard against his temple. "What was that?" The words came out strained, like he had to force them through something. It didn't feel like anything he had trained for. It wasn't physical, not really. It felt like something else, something that didn't belong, like it had brushed up against him and left something behind. Was that what the Dark Side felt like? If the Sith felt that everyday he could understand why they were so hostile.

He swallowed again, harder this time, trying to push the feeling down. His stomach turned, sharp and sudden, like he might actually be sick if it came back. His head turned slowly back the way they had come, even though the rest of him was still angled forward.

"What was that?" Whatever that had been, it wasn't far.

Tag: Zaiya Ceti Daxin Veyr Del Mirah
Location: Jedi Temple, NewCov
Objective: Don't become Sith food.

 

[Darth Umbra]

TAGS: Aiden Porte

The Jedi's blade danced in the sunlight, deflecting the errant blaster bolts that were aimed at him. Umbra watched as the Jedi lifted his hand, the force erupting from him in a torrential wave aimed at Umbra.

The captive trooper still hung in front of Umbra, squirming, writhing in pain as the Dark Side of the Force gripped him. With the wave of force coming at him, however, Umbra could not play the game anymore. He flung the trooper into the Jedi's attack with the force, watching him fly towards the Jedi, then be hit by the Jedi's attack and careen backward towards Umbra.

Umbra brought up the force in front of him, a small bubble around himself that allowed the Jedi's attack to flow around him, only slightly staggering him, but little else.

Umbra stalked forward toward the Jedi, his Crimson-Orange blade slashing once against the throat of the trooper he had been holding, killing him.

"I've heard this many times before, and I'm still here. Give me your best shot, I guarantee it won't be enough."

"We shall see," Umbra leveled back at the Jedi, leaping high and making a downward slash with his blade using brute strength.