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

[Kito]

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

The moment the blade stopped, it screamed. Its voice shattered her mind as she tried to follow the pathways it had guided her along. There was no weak point; whatever the Sith was doing only fortified every crack she could cut through.

For the first time, Kito panicked. Even when things looked their worst, there was always a way. Memories of previous battles, the shatterpoint lines, anything and everything that was the ancient blade — it made it all possible.

Kito's ember gaze would meet the Sith's profile; she would memorize everything about him in that moment. He embodied everything she hated. Before she could reassess her attack, the rise and impact of the Force bore into her chest. It was deafening, and the battle around her zeroed in on the pain that burned in her chest.

In an instant, the ground was no longer at her feet, and the padawan was tossed aside as if she were nothing. His fight wasn't with her; she hadn't proved herself worthy of his attention. Soon, soon she would be strong enough, she would surpass her Master, the Grandmaster… all of them…

She would be free.

Impact echoed through her spine as she landed hard against whatever structure he threw her into. Air hissed through the Shaper's teeth as she tried to catch her breath to feed the fire that burned at her core.

Relief did not come, as she struggled for that moment, his Apprentice took the chance to strike.

"Pathetic…" she sibilated as her eyes caught the approach. With the trajectory and the gentle currents of the Force giving way to intent, Kito tracked the Acolyte.

She did not chase the blur that moved above her; she planted herself, using the odachi to block and to weave her way through the aerial barrage. What often went up needed to come down, and she waited for the commitment.

The moment the Sith vanished behind her shoulder, Kito moved. She didn't move backward; instead, she intended to move through.

With a burst of force-enhanced speed, she carried herself into a sharp diagonal pivot beneath the strike as the odachi roared, rising from the low guard into a violent upward arch meant to catch her attacker mid-turn.

As the blade moved, Kito parted her lips, and a plume of fire followed. If the blade didn't burn, the breath of the Fireworm of Eol Sha would have its chance.

 

[Warren of the Narrows]

​

The Padawan didn't really have time to think.

Del was thrown against the wall, and it looked like she was down for the count, and Daxin- well, Daxin was being pinned to the ceiling by the Sith like it was nothing. Something in Warren's chest dropped. He had to act now if he was going to do something to help, he knew nerves were only going to get people killed.

The Selonian's paws came up instinctively, reaching for the band with the sling while the other popped a couple pellets into place. He just pulled. He wasn't sure how far, or how hard, but he pulled and fired off two shots toward the hulking Sith. The first went wide, clipping stone somewhere past him, but the second came faster, more desperate, the motion already repeating before he realized what he was doing.

"Let go of him!" he shouted, not waiting to see if it worked.

Then, Warren pushed off hard, his strong legs coiling and releasing with force as he shot over toward Del. It was a single, very uneven jump, but it did the job, and he landed rough beside her. "Del- Del-" One paw hovered over her shoulder for a moment before settling, unsure if he should move her or not. His attention was quickly taken from her, as something shifted behind him.

Not a sound at first, but a feeling. The pressure in the air changed quickly, like the power that had been holding everything in place had just slipped. Warren's head turned just enough to catch it, the Sith's head snapping to the side, a low, irritated movement as his hands caught his face where the pellet had struck, the eye.

Not enough to blind him or even stop him, but it was enough to break his concentration.

"Daxin!" Warren's eyes widened as he realized the Padawan would be falling. Where was Del's paddle gun?!

Tag: Daxin Veyr Del Mirah
Location: Jedi Temple, NewCov
Objective: Survive

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr | Warren of the Narrows

A dull ache pulsed through Del's skull as Warren's frantic shaking pulled her back from the gray fog of unconsciousness. Every vertebra felt like it had been rearranged against the temple masonry.

She forced herself up to her knees, teeth gritted against the spike of pain in her spine, and took in the disaster. Daxin was pinned like an insect against the ceiling, and the Dowutin loomed below him, the crimson glow of the Sith blade illuminating a face twisted in monstrous irritation.

The sight of the Sith drawing back for a lethal, upward strike acted like a jolt of electricity. Del lunged for the paddle gun, her fingers closing around the grip just as the red blade began its arc. Logic abandoned her in favor of raw desperation. She pulled the trigger repeatedly, unleashing a frantic volley of light discs. The translucent barriers hissed through the air, cluttering the space between the giant and his prey.

The Dowutin roared, his blade rhythmically slamming into the energy structures as they materialized in his path. Each impact sent a shower of sparks through the corridor, but the sheer volume of her fire forced him to pivot.

His grip on the Force wavered under the sensory assault, and the pressure holding Daxin aloft suddenly snapped. As the other Padawan plummeted toward the stone floor, Del fired a final, precise shot. A broad disc blossomed beneath Daxin, acting as a momentary safety net that turned a bone-breaking fall into a jarring tumble.

A warning whine emitted from the paddle gun as the barrel hissed with steam. It was dead in her hands, the internal cooling system unable to keep up with her panicked fire. The Dowutin was already hacking through the last of her shimmering shields with terrifying efficiency.

"Daxin, run!" Del shrieked. She scrambled to her feet, her hand reaching for Warren's tunic as she prepared to flee into the encroaching shadows.

 

[Daxin Veyr]

Not enough to blind him or even stop him, but it was enough to break his concentration.

"Daxin!" Warren's eyes widened as he realized the Padawan would be falling.

In the instant before he fell, one thought went around Daxins's head. If the sith cleaved him in half, how long would it take to die?

As he fell and a bright disc appeared to cushion his fall.

He bounced off and hit the ground. The sith was holding his face, blood trickling down between his fingers.

"Daxin, run!" Del shrieked. She scrambled to her feet, her hand reaching for Warren's tunic as she prepared to flee into the encroaching shadows.

He grabbed the small bead from his pocket. The explosive earring Zaiya had left him with. He had no idea how it would work.

He jumped back up to his feet and turned and ran.

"Go go!"

The sith took two steps and the earring exploded beneath him.

"Just run!"

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Gerwald Lechner

That was… a lot to unpack there.

Honestly, it wasn't the sort of explanation Zaiya was expecting; then again, she should have known things weren't so linear. She learned that when she spoke to Nulgath Zardai after she had accidentally cut the Sith Lord from the Force.

But even then, she kept an open mind and hope when it came to the man's redemption.

So the colorful Jedi Knight stood very still for a moment, only the breeze shifting her colorful hair with only the soft shimmer of her bioluminescent markings betraying the flicker of her thoughts as surprise tangled briefly with a brighter thread of orange curiosity before she gently drew it back to try and return it to a more contemplative state.

He was referring to Grandmaster Valery Noble. Vera's, Colette's and Aris's mother…her boyfriend's mother.

Honestly, what the wolfie revealed to her was the sort of story unlike any that she had heard of the Jedi master before. It didn't fit the image the Lovalla Knight had of the woman who was happy to make burgers with her family in her kitchen.

But what made it more complex wasn't just the name, but it was the way he had said it. There had been no exaggeration in his voice, no distortion, or any sense of trying to deceive. Just that heavy sort of weight that made one feel as if it was something he had lived.

Genocide.

The word lingered in her mind like a note or a discordant hue that didn't belong in the melody or fabric of the Force. Truth be told, Zaiya might have followed that thread of thought further had it not been for the way the Force stirred, sending a ripple of awareness that brushed against the Lovalla and plucked at her attention.

The Padawans. She could feel it. Their fear. Their worry and alarm.

Zaiya's breath caught as her attention snapped outward without hesitation, her glow pulsing faintly yellow as she reached for the source. The emotions resolved quickly once she focused upon the three life signatures. Then she felt their rush of determination and she let out a soft breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Good.

The Lovalla's focus returned to look at Gerwald just as she hopped lightly down from the small log she had been perched on, landing lightly on the pads of her feet, and she took a few easy steps forward, angling herself subtly between Gerald and the direction the Padawans had gone.

Juu-uuust in case.

All the while, the small seeds in her hand clicked softly as she rolled them between her fingers in a meditative rhythm that matched the quiet hum of the Force around her.

She studied him again, head tilting slightly, listening not just to his words but to the currents beneath them because from what she could feel, he wasn't lying.

"My condolences," Zaiya said at last, her glow softening as she spoke, a muted blue threaded with warm bronze, the quiet language of empathy.

"For those you've lost," Her brows drew together slightly, not in confusion, but in quiet, genuine care. She tilted her head in that small, birdlike way of hers, studying him as if the answer might reveal itself from a different angle.

"But I think I'm missing part of the story," she continued gently, her tone light but deliberate, each word placed with intention rather than urgency. "And I don't want to misunderstand you. That tends to make things… worse, and I'd rather not do that today."

Her opal-blue eyes remained on him trying to trace how something like this could have happened. The context of the situation.

"Who is it that she committed genocide…" Zaiya asked softly. He had said that it had been the Order that came for those who did not align with her worldview, so part of her wondered whether he meant the Sith as a whole, or if there was a more personal story to it, and what the circumstances behind it were. Was this a culture? A race. A government entity?

Zaiya couldn't claim to know whom the New Jedi Order had fought against during its entire tenure and the reasons behind them. But she did understand the need to protect and defend the innocent from those who would be harmed by others.

"Was it your people?" she went on. "Your kin? Did she come to you, or were you caught in something bigger than that?"

The seeds clicked once more in her hand, thoughtful, contemplative. Even as the sound of battle amidst Jedi and those who attacked them resonated along the fabric of the Force. It made her wonder, how were they? Were others already evacuated?

"What was the worldview that didn't align?" she asked, quieter now, but no less intent as her head tilted just slightly again, gaze never leaving his.

"What was the divide?"

Because if there was one thing Zaiya had learned in her studies across a galaxy of Force organizations, is that there wasn't just the Jedi and the Sith. There were more out there.

And a user of the Dark Side of the Force didn't necessarily mean a Sith. Just someone who had chosen to use the corrupted method of the Force.

 

[Novac Lyrikal]

Darth Strosius Corazona von Ascania

wait, this was the one who ordered her right arm cut off? if she was saying he was powerful then he must truly be. was novqc ready for that? could he fight him? even if he wasnt alone he wasnt sure. turning to corazona, "he did?" now talking so only corazona could hear, "powerful huh? think we have a chance? i'd rather stay and fight but if thats not much of a option"

the sith finally showed himself. standing up on one of the bookshelfs was the imposing figure. this was really a sith novac thought, im really face to face with a powerful sith. his hands where shaking a little. he quickly fished the commlink from his pocket and tryed to reach hk, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on the sith before him.

"hk where are you? i could really use your help preferably sooner rather then later." novac spoke into the commlink. all he heard back was gunfire mixed with "fighting, lots, unable to reach, soon." it was clear it might be a while, novac would really like to have him here now. he could fight other jedi since he was trained and programed to protect novac so he'd be valuable in this fight but it seems he was occupied at the moment.

as the sith ignited his blade novac could feel the bleed crystal inside the saber, he felt bad for it. he didht know much of the process of bleeding a crystal but he knew enough to know how bad it was for the crystal itself. the son? novac didnt know much other then that the son was some old sith legend or whatnot. igniting his own saber the blade ontop in its current polearm configuration was one of his yellow blades, he held the lightsaber at his side with his 2 left arms, not in a defensive position just yet. "the son? why would you want some old legend. assuming we even had anything about him here what would you want out of it?"

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Zaiya Ceti

Gerwald watched the shift move through her expression as the weight of what he had said settled in. Surprise came first, followed by curiosity, though neither remained long before she pulled herself back toward the same thoughtful calm she seemed determined to maintain.

She was listening to him.

Not waiting for her turn to speak or searching for the quickest condemnation. Actually listening.

That alone made the conversation stranger than most he had with Jedi.

The jungle moved softly around them while she tried to fit his words against whatever image she carried of Valery Noble. Gerwald could almost see the fracture line forming behind her eyes. The woman he spoke of clearly did not match the one she knew.

He did not rush to fill the silence.

A breeze slipped through the clearing and carried the distant smell of smoke with it. Somewhere beyond the jungle, the assault had already begun. The Force carried fragments of it in uneven waves as the Second Legion tightened its grip around the temple while defenders scrambled to react.

Zaiya felt it too.

He saw the moment her attention shifted outward toward the Padawans. Fear brushed through the Force, followed quickly by relief once she found them again. Only then did she move, stepping subtly into the path between him and the direction they had gone.

Gerwald noticed immediately.

The movement was small, but there was nothing uncertain about its meaning. She was placing herself between danger and those she believed needed protection. Not for show. Not to challenge him. Simply because she had already decided that was where she belonged.

His gaze lingered there briefly before returning to her face.

The sympathy she offered him sat strangely in the clearing. Most people heard words like genocide and immediately reached for blame, anger, or justification. She reached for understanding instead, even while battle spread around the temple and the man standing before her prepared to bring it down around them both if necessary.

Gerwald remained still while she questioned him.

The seeds continued clicking softly in her hand beneath the distant rhythm of battle moving through the Force. Smoke thickened somewhere deeper in the jungle and curled upward through breaks in the canopy. The sounds had not reached the clearing yet, but they would soon enough. The war pressing against New Cov moved closer with every passing minute.

Still, her questions never drifted toward tactics or the Legion gathering around the temple. She remained focused on the divide he had spoken of and the reason it had ever existed at all.

Gerwald understood why she was asking, though he suspected she would not like the answer no matter how carefully it was given. The galaxy rarely divided itself into the simple shapes the Jedi preferred to teach. History became cleaner once enough bodies were buried beneath it.

The wind shifted again and stirred leaves across the clearing while the temple loomed quietly behind her beneath shadow and ancient stone.

Gerwald watched her for another moment before answering.

“If you know Valery Noble and her New Jedi Order, then you know they did not see Sith as anything but an evil that needed to be snuffed out. Kill first. Question later.”

The words settled between them while the jungle shifted softly around the clearing and distant traces of battle rippled through the Force.

“Do you know what they did on Sulis Van? Are you aware they moved against Echnos City?”

Smoke continued to gather somewhere beyond the canopy while the sounds of fighting slowly crept closer through the jungle.

“It was a shipyard city filled with workers, families, and civilians building vessels for the Sith Order. There was no strategic value in attacking it beyond the people living there.”

The memory sat cold in him even now. He still remembered burning metal, collapsing districts, and the realization that the line between soldier and civilian had stopped mattering to people who claimed moral authority over the galaxy.

“What had the Sith Order done to provoke the Alliance before that? Nothing.”

To Gerwald, the answer was simple.

“They decided what we were before ever speaking to us, and once that decision was made, every death became acceptable so long as it belonged to the right side of the line.”

The wind shifted through the clearing again and carried ash with it as the assault deeper within the jungle continued to build.

“Are you aware Valery Noble is the reason the Worm Emperor escaped confinement and possessed Empyrean?”

He watched her quietly for a moment before continuing.

“You asked where the divide began. It begins when people decide entire worlds deserve to die because they believe differently than they do.”

His attention drifted briefly toward the temple looming through the jungle behind her before returning to her once more.

“The Jedi are not the only ones who bury their dead and ask why it happened.”

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Like the quiet before a storm, Strosius himself seemed to vanish. And even though he could not be seen, and he could not be heard, he still managed to make the room profoundly unsettling.

Cora considered Novac's question. "That was quite some time ago," she admitted softly, brushing past the weeks she'd spent on Mustafar at the Sith's enclave. She had grown since then, in both ability and mind. But Corazona von Ascania did not exist in a vacuum, and the galaxy, Strosius among it, had progressed as well.

"If you wish to leave now," she added, "This will be my last chance to cover your escape. But if you choose to stay…" Shadowed shapes slithered against the walls as the ventilation kicked on. Cora no longer spoke quietly, settling into a conversational volume.

"Sith are powerful, and should be approached as such. But, they are not infallible Gods, no matter how highly they project themselves."

If they were, then they would've swallowed the galaxy whole by now. Instead, they played into the endless tug-of-war between the Light and Dark.

Crimson lighting threw half of her face in shadow as Strosius, perched on a bookcase above them, ignited his lightsaber. All at once, his presence flooded the archives. Heavy, steeped in the rich, cloying power of the Dark. Cora inhaled slowly, drawing traces of the dark miasma into her lungs as she felt the shape of the Force flowing within the prophet – then a slow, steady exhale brought her clarity. Novac ignited his own saber, and questioned the Sith's motives.

"There is no need for aggression," she remarked, almost dryly. The Jedi turned, hands clasped neatly behind her back, head tilted up at Strosius. "Not yet."

Ah, that mask brought back memories. Unpleasant ones. Cora squinted a little, trying better to make out the details washed in the same crimson light that bled over her visage.

''How do we know that you won't kill us even if we do comply?"

Darth Strosius Novac Lyrikal

 

[Balun Dashiell]

THEY CAME FROM THE WALL | SO & HR JUNCTION OF ORD VAUG & BASSADRO
LOCATION: New Cov, Site of the Ancient Jedi Temple
INVENTORY: High Republic Jedi Robes | Crossguard Lightsaber | Standard Lightsaber
TRANSPORT: S-91x Pegasus Starfighter
DIRECT TAGS: Darth Nefaron
ALLIES: The Jedi Order | The High Republic
OPPOSITION: The Sith Order

​

The chaos of battle had engulfed the Ancient Temple, flooding the excavation site with violence and passionate emotions that fuelled such extreme acts: anger, fear, anxiety, but also strength, courage and defiance against the Sith Order's aggressive and sudden strike against the Jedi. Balun Dashiell fought, both physically against the Dark Troopers who enforced the will of their Lords, yet also waged a battle of apathy. He could not allow himself to be swayed by the feelings of those fighting beside and against him, lest he lose concentration in the force that so kept him moving on instinct when every second was desperate, disorientating with conflict.

Yes, Balun, I am very much here. Your destiny awaits if you are brave enough to seek me out.

A flash of crimson light streaked in front of his eyes as the Jedi Knight hitched in his footing, stumbling backwards a step just shy of being blinded by the Acolyte that rushed him, the red of the Sith weapon met with a hastily raised sunfire blade of Balun's Lightsaber, catching and locking his aggressor, utilising the ventral blades of the crossguard, he drove his right elbow down against the inside of the Acolyte's sword arm while angling their weapons around in the moment of weakness, pressing a deep gash across the midsection that deepened as Balun quickly stepped away, leaving them to fall. He had not the time to mourn their loss of life, enemy or otherwise. The Temple was awash with bloodshed.

Darth Nefaron had sensed Balun, reached out and challenged him. Urged him to follow. Perhaps the Sith Lord could feel Balun's intent the moment he had made the connection, yet it mattered not. If Nefaron were here, he needed to be driven off. If something had drawn him to this place alongside his peers, it was something worth fighting for. Leaving the others defending the entrance didn't come easily, yet priorities must. The Force had, for whatever reason, left a lasting impression between the two since their first encounter, and now, it felt that once more, Balun was being called to purpose.

He moved swiftly, in flight through the inner Temple, weaving around combatants and driving back those who locked to challenge him with quickened parries before disengaging, pursuing his single objective. He trusted in his fellow Jedi, many of them his betters. One Jedi could not win the war, but the combined shield of light that was their Order could certainly repel the darkness. For now, the Corpse Lord was seeking something, and he was not the type to risk himself unnecessarily. This much Balun had learned.

By the time he finally reached the antechamber's mouth, Balun slowed to a walk, his lightsaber still ablaze at his side, his eyes narrowed as he searched the dimly lit room, fairly large and bearing many a shadow cast by the pillars and ornamental statues of Jedi of old. "I know you're here" He called out, unable to lay eyes on the Sith Lord yet, uncertain whether Nefaron had already entered the far chamber in the time it had taken Balun to reach him, yet his voice echoed throughout the room, and one way or another, his presence would become known.

"Show yourself!".

Former Mentor: Ala Quin
Jedi Apprentice: Cerys Dyn
Major Faction: The High Republic
Sub-Faction: Jhaessa Prime
Conglomerate: Dashiell Incorporated™
Subsidiary Company: Dashiell Retrofit™​

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"All good things come to an end, right?" A hooded figure stood alone on the roof of the Temple, staring up at a shattered fountain. Water spewed out and leaked all across the once vibrant green. A sad smile was visible under the cloth. So many years of memories, of his children growing here. His Padawan's learning throughout the facility. Of meeting and falling in love with Valery Noble .

"Let's see.."

He sat down on a relatively clearer spot, closing his eyes. One of the most powerful lessons a Jedi had to learn was the importance of letting go. The Temple might fall, but the Jedi within would not. He pulled on the very foundation he'd built, bringing with him light. All the runes he'd carefully carved and crafted, filled with the Light. He recognized two within, two who could use this better than he ever could.

Keep them safe, both of you. You are not alone.

Corazona von Ascania | Zaiya Ceti

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Dark Lord watched the Jedi Knight's every move with unblinking eyes, the faintest adjustments in her stance and the tightening of her muscles in preparation for movement. When the move did come, He'd long anticipated it. Duels between skilled Force users was a chess game, of reading your opponent and sensing their intention through the Force. Feints and misdirection were common strategies, especially if you could steady your mind and calm the rhythm of your heart.

Instead of meeting the Jedi's blade with His own, the Dark Lord waited until the last possible moment to act. His massive armored frame twisted just enough degrees for Lily's lightsaber to cut a shallow furrow through the weave and leather that lay atop His alchemized armor plating. This put Him slightly perpendicular to the Jedi Knight, but still within striking reach of her leg. Her foot snapped toward the back of His knee with Echani precision, but the instant Lily committed her weight into the kick, He shifted His stance into it rather than away from it.

His back leg bent instead of resisting, absorbing the impact through sheer mass and controlled movement. Three hundred kilograms of armored muscle allowed itself to fall to one knee, bringing the Dark Lord closer to eye-level with the Jedi Decoria. For a brief moment, it looked as though the Jedi had finally brought the monstrous Carnifex to His knees in defeat, to finally bow His head and answer for all the evils He'd unleashed on the galaxy.

That illusion was dispelled as quick as it came.

His hand shot out, armored fingers moving to wrap around Lily's ankle on her still raised leg. He would attempt to pull her towards Him, to throw her off balance and cause her to fall backwards. His lightsaber would snap out, quick as a viper, aimed for the joints on her sword arm in an attempt to lob it off. Regardless of the success of either attempts, He would make distance between them by either throwing Lily away or leaping back.

Either way, His gaze would briefly rise to meet that of another's on the roof of the temple. No words would pass between them, only a shared recognition.

From father to son, and son to father.

Lily Decoria | Reina Daival | Kito
Kahlil Noble (Mentioned)​

 

[Warren of the Narrows]

​

The explosion rocked the hallway behind them, the Padawans scurrying as far away from it as possible. Heat and smoke rolled through the corridor after them, chasing at their heels. The Sith was still alive too, Warren could feel it. Even with the smoke and the noise and the panic slamming through his chest, he could still feel the darkness following them. It dragged behind them, pulling at them, telling them to slow down, to give in.

"Go! Go!" Warren shouted in his heavy accent toward Daxin, even if he was already moving.

The awkward Selonian skidded slightly as he rounded the next turn, shoulder-checking the corner before catching himself. His paws fumbled for the bands again, wishing desperately more things were made with other species in mind. Once he got a grip on it, he waited until Daxin was closer before firing off another couple shots toward the Sith Lord. He didn't stick around long enough to see if they landed.

The trio needed to get to the evacuation site quickly, before the Sith Lord found them again.

"This way-" Warren started, immediately second guessing himself as the smoke and sirens filled the air around him. "No, that's back to the Archives- this way!" He skidded slightly as he changed direction again, nearly slipping as he pushed himself forward.

The Temple looked completely different now. Between the flashing emergency lights, the smoke gathering near the ceiling, and the Sith Lord chasing them through the halls, it was getting harder and harder to remember the layout he had studied so carefully. He half expected Del to correct him.

Tag: Del Mirah Daxin Veyr
Location: Jedi Temple, NewCov
Objective: Survive

 

[Aiden Porte]

Darth Umbra​

Aiden felt the strength behind every strike.

Sith's blade crashed against his own with relentless force, each attack meant not only to break his defense, but to batter down his resolve. Aiden redirected what he could, turning heavy blows aside at sharp angles to attempt to throw Umbra briefly off balance, using the Sith's aggression against him rather than meeting it head on.

But something deeper stirred beneath the surface.

The darkness inside him twisted violently with every clash of crimson light. It pressed against his thoughts like a living thing, dragging at his focus, poisoning his concentration. Keeping it contained had become its own battle entirely. Aiden was fighting Umbra in front of him while waging war against the shadows clawing within his own mind.

For a moment, it was too much.

 

[Lirka Ka]

PROFANE TEMPLE

TAGS: Lorn Reingard

Blood had been spilt, and Lirka could feel a shudder of sadism ripple through her wretched form. There was a certain petty cruelty to the way the metallic monster acted, no grand design existed for throwing a Jedi into their fellow’s blade - it was merely amusing. A jab into the psyche, stroke the flames and leave a good tale to mock her foe with when the time came.

Though to some extent, ever so tiny, she was disappointed to have wasted the Twi’lek’s life so quickly. Certainly Lirka doubted she’d have the chance to extract the necessary samples from the creature - smash and grabs rarely left time for dissection.

As the wall of concussive force blasted into her, Lirka stumbled back some - a horrid screech of metal-upon-metal as her boots slid across the floor, attempting to keep her footing firm in the wake of the Jedi’s assault. She felt no great attachment to her freshest murder, and with a thud she relinquished the archivist’s corpse. Flexing her now free fingers, Lirka let loose that horridly humorous laugh of hers.

“The ever astute observations of the Jedi! Long have I missed your peoples’ prattle.”

With whirring mechanized speed she side-stepped, and with a mighty swing of her metal fist to send the masonry into a spray of debris to her side. The hilt of Lirka’s electro-whip popped into her now-free hand, the thing springing to life with another crackle of energy as she lashed out to strike the Jedi once more - an attempt to stall the assault from Lorn Reingard and to subject this newest of foe to her own ceaseless prattling.

“Your ilk sit upon this hoard of knowledge, yet so eager are you to deny its contents. Rushing to its defense while my Marauders descend upon Ilic! What are you hiding from me, Jedi? What grand knowledge shall I pluck from this place when I am finished with you?”

​

​

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr | Warren of the Narrows

Del didn't need a second invitation to flee. The moment Daxin yelled for them to move, she was already a blur of robes and panic. She rounded the first corner just as the earring detonated, the roar of the blast vibrating through the soles of her boots. Reaching the next junction, she skidded to a halt and looked back, her chest heaving. Relief washed over her as Warren and Daxin emerged from the smoke, but that relief was short-lived. Warren pointed one way, then frantically pivoted toward another.

"Wait, wait! Stop!" Del shouted, her voice sharp enough to cut through the sirens. Warren's indecision was irritating, they didn't have time for this. The Dowutin's muffled screams of rage were getting louder. She forced her mind to ignore the adrenaline and visualize the architectural schematics she had memorized. There was no room for error or second guessing. "This way!" she commanded, snapping her arm toward a side passage that sloped downward.

She sprinted down the hall. Behind them, the heavy thud of the Sith's pursuit grew closer, accompanied by the hiss of his lightsaber cutting through any debris in his path. Del reached a heavy reinforced door at the end of the hall and slammed her palm against the control panel. The machinery groaned, the ancient gears protesting as the seal finally broke. She didn't wait for it to open fully; she squeezed through the narrow sliver of space and tumbled out into the humid air of New Cov.

Cold realization replaced the heat of the chase. Instead of the bustling evacuation site and the safety of Republic transports, they stood on a secluded, secondary landing pad overlooking the dense jungle canopy. The landing pad was empty, save for a few rusted crates. She had led them to a dead end.

A harsh sob caught in her throat as she realized her mistake. The Sith was behind them, and the untamed jungle lay ahead. "I... this isn't the way," she stammered, her gaze darting between the dark doorway they had just exited and the looming shadows of the trees. They were trapped.

 

[Atham Harek]

​

His compact slugthrower found itself in a two-handed grip before the decision caught up. Milo bladed his body against the wall, weight forward on the balls of his feet. His barrel stayed low until the shift came; the trigger finger moved, and the muzzle flash ate the shadows for a breath. Recoil cracked up through his wrists. Whatever it was, it hadn't dropped, and skittered further down into the dark.

Milo saw it first, perhaps due to the Jedi's.... well, being a Jedi as it were. Atham pointed his shotgun at the hall just as the... thing shifted, moved. It moved darkly, un-godly and unkind. It wasn't on his side, that was for sure. Atham put his shotgun in the high ready, and the Commandos spread out, stacking up on either side of the hallway. Atham took point, and was crossing into the facility- meeting the dreaded enemy of close quarters combat:

Stairs. He peeked his shotgun over the stairs, and for his trouble, a spray of blaster fire from a compact repeater came up quickly. It ate the space where Atham was just moments before. Atham ducked over the railing, cursing as he pulled the shotgun over his body, blindly firing to return fire downwards. His shotgun was loud and monstrously booming in the tight corridor, and the last Commando in the stack instinctively, and rightly, prepared a grenade- flashbang.

He beamed it overhead, throwing it hard at an angle towards the wall. It bounced, bounced, bounced-

And then, the nine-bang flashbang went off. BANG, BANG, BANG nine times over, louder each time, bouncing around the room. Whoever it was down there, screamed and cursed, and Atham twisted his body over the railing, leveled his shotgun at the enemy's torso, and fired. Sith Trooper, not a security guard like he feared. Atham breathed deeply, then quickly descended the stairs, the team following him. They were deeper in the facility now, closer to the actual research and storage division. Atham turned to the Jedi, stopping right before they were crossing into a threshold. One of the other Commandos worked to open one of the security doors by slicing (breaking a panel and fiddling with the wires, actually) into the security terminal near it.

"Milo. We have our orders to save the data here. But- you don't."

Atham, ever the rebel even in the midst of combat, reached to the back of his belt- and produced an electromagnetic charge. Large enough to wipe out any server bank for this size of a facility. He held it out to Milo.

"Whatever they found here, the Sith want. And whatever the Sith want, can't be good for us all, hm?"

He held the charge out for Milo to take. A test, a measure, and an offer. Milo was at least, a likeable Jedi, and Atham placed trust in him. And yes, the Republic wanted the data. Yes, he had his orders from Command. But the same men that sent him here, were not the ones fighting the wars. Commandos would always be that- Commandos, elite. Decision makers. He was a soldier, true, he was a well-to-do denizen of Naboo, sure. But he was also a man, a man of action, purpose, and drive.

And all this... science. All this research. It may have been beneficial. But from what he saw, the posture of the security, and the tenacity of the Sith to retrieve it, he wanted nothing to do with it. The Republic was supposed to be better. Supposed to be the good guys. So, to keep up appearances at least- Atham was going to commit a slight act of disobedience, and at worse, light treason.

​

 

[Daxin Veyr]

"This way-" Warren started, immediately second guessing himself as the smoke and sirens filled the air around him. "No, that's back to the Archives- this way!" He skidded slightly as he changed direction again, nearly slipping as he pushed himself forward.

"Wait, wait! Stop!" Del shouted, her voice sharp enough to cut through the sirens. "This way!" she commanded.

A harsh sob caught in her throat as she realized her mistake. The Sith was behind them, and the untamed jungle lay ahead. "I... this isn't the way," she stammered,

"Don't worry," Daxin said softly. Her felt the raw rage of the sith wash over him.

This wasn't her fault. They had to pick a direction and he appreciated her being direct and making a choice.

"That looks like a big drop down," he said.

Whilst the sith was huge and less likely to survive the fall, Daxin wouldn't bet on him not being able to use the Force to land safely after them.

His hand fell to the training lightsaber. It could knock someone out with a blow to the head. His scarred lip twitched as he felt that wash of anger. It pushed the fear away.

"Look for a way down, I'll buy you time."

 

[Darth Strosius]

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

Darth Strosius loomed over the pair of Jedi, His lightsaber allowing them to glimpse at His heavily robed and armored form. He looked almost the same as He did when He and Corazona had first crossed paths some time ago, but with one notable exception. Spreading out from His back were a series of pale translucent tendrils, barely visible in the dark but perfectly illuminated in the crimson glow of His ignited blade. They twitched and shifted in a manner akin to something organic and physical yet seemed completely ethereal in reality. Like an odd parody of wings.

His presence within the Force, now that He wasn't purposefully misconstruing it, was similarly somewhat altered as well. Seeming more hollow at once and yet far more expansive in the same measure compared to when they'd first met. The masked Sith Lord didn't choose to comment on these apparent changes in His being however, evidently being familiar enough with them Himself, and instead kept His hidden gaze flickering between the two Jedi. "You would be wise to not dismiss such 'old legends' so quickly young Jedi, this galaxy has forgotten far more than we know at present."

He also chose not to answer the latter half of the question that had been posed to Him about His request, not yet at least. The mask's dark visor shifted to the more familiar of the Jedi at her own question. "You don't." The curt response was allowed to hang in the air for a moment before He continued. "However, I have yet to lie to any of your ilk. Whether you believe that or not matters little, for it is indeed true. So listen well when I say that your survival this day will not hinge on my actions, but rather your own."

The sword in His other hand was raised and pointed out towards the entrance of the archives. "Besieging the rest of the temple is a score of heathens and heretics that dare to call themselves 'Sith' in spite of their unworthiness of the title. When they get here they will lay waste to everyone and everything inside. I will not bore you with the details, but I would rather they gain nothing from this place and I would most certainly rather not have to fend them off simply because I had to waste my time slaying the two of you."

His sword returned to His side, the tip of the blade resting against the top of the shelf as He leered down at them. "Make no mistake, your Jedi archives have no value to me aside from whatever knowledge they have of the Son, but I would rather the others attacking you this day gain nothing at all. Give me what I seek and I will leave you to prepare yourselves accordingly for their arrival."

 

[Lily Decoria]

​

Objective: 1
Location: New Cov
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Equipment: Arwr Da, Hydrangea Moonblade (concealed)
Tags: Darth Carnifex | Kito | Reina Daival

There was a calm in Lily's mind, amongst the whirlwind storm of energy that was happening around her, the darkness that flowed easily from Carnifex. Lily's resolve did not waiver, there was no dull spark that had been before when she was a Padawan. She was solid, glowing light that pierced through Carnifex. The strike did not land as solidly as Lily had intended but it was a more dangerous strike than she could have achieved as a Padawan. The young Jedi was growing rapidly and honing her skills over a short period. She also was more aware of what Carnifex was doing, assessing his moves, Lily knew that she did not have enough time to avoid both.

But she could select the lesser of two dangers. Her leg was captured by Carnifex as he dropped to his knee. There was no thought in Lily that this was a winning move for her, she knew it was still going to be a dangerous strike that he would do with his Lightsaber. One that would leave her without a main sword arm. So Lily guided her Lightsaber and blocked the strike, using her heightened physical strength to match the power of the block and holding Carnifex in place. Lily growled as she poured energy of the Force into the muscles of her remaining back leg.

Twisting herself on the side to Carnifex, she raised the back leg and empowered with the Force, aimed to hit him square in the chest with enough power in the Force to blast her backwards and freed from his grip if she connected with the kick or not. Forcing Lily to roll in the dirt, she had to maintain a strong positive mental fortitude, so Kito that even facing the most dangerous of opponents that Lily would not stand down. Showing the Jedi that Lily would always be there, fighting impossible odds and determined to step towards defeating them. Rising to her feet, Lily dusted herself off, igniting her cyan blade once again.

With her freed hand, Lily gripped a branch from behind Carnifex and brought it down towards him with a furious speed. Aiming for his head. While this was happening, Lily launched forward moving faster than a humanoid should with bond to her Lightsaber empowering her body to shift faster and heighten her precision. She knew from her previous fight with Carnifex that she couldn't just stab at where his heart was to kill him, that had proven to fail. Instead, she needed to try striking elsewhere. Somewhere that could make certain that he could not survive.

Which meant that she went straight for a slice at the throat, aiming to behead Carnifex with a single strike of her blade. It was obvious but she was hoping the distraction of two strikes incoming would give her chance to get a blow on Carnifex that would either behead him with her blade or give some form of concussion with the branch striking the back of his head.

 

[Darth Umbra]

TAGS: Aiden Porte

The Jedi was a worthy opponent, Umbra thought as he hammered against his defenses over and over. The man met his blade with a defensive riposte, forcing Umbra's crimson-orange blade wide and away, keeping himself in the fight.

Umbra could admire this tenacity, this dedication to the skill of lightsaber combat.

As Umbra's blade continued to come down with force-imbued strength, the Jedi's blade would deflect, forcing Umbra to expend energy and time to sweep his blade back up and attack again. The Jedi was good. But something was changing.

The angled deflections began to get less angled. The Jedi began to meet his blade with full contact, but where Umbra thought this meant the Jedi had found his rhythm and was beginning to strike back, it was anything but.

Umbra felt the Jedi's turbulent emotions in the Force. Something stirred within him, causing him to lose focus on the fight in front of him. This was something Umbra would not take for granted. His blade continued to hammer into the Jedi, forcing his opponent's lightsaber to meet his with more force to counteract Umbra's powerful strikes.

Umbra continued to strike hard, his blade now held with two hands, almost chopping at the Jedi like a tree. On one such attack, Umbra screamed, letting out his fury in the Force. As his blade went to meet the Jedi's, he could see the Jedi step towards him, using the larger muscles in his body to counteract Umbra's powerful downward strike.

As Umbra's blade descended, he switched the lightsaber off. The Jedi, his emotions poisoning his concentration, did not realize until it was too late. The man had fully committed to the counter before realizing the deception. His blade swept upward into empty air. Umbra took advantage of the slight technical error, lithely sliding beneath the Jedi's strike like a dancer.

The Jedi reacted nearly instantly, his blade burning through the air to meet Umbra in a desperate correction. But it was too late. With a flick of his wrist, Umbra's Crimson-Orange blade burned back to life, punching a hole into the Jedi's midsection.

Umbra caught the Jedi's wrist with one hand as his blue blade bit deep into his armored side in return, but with less power than it had meant to. Umbra stared into the Jedi's eyes as the pain of the lightsaber in his abdomen finally began to take its toll. With the Dark Side coursing through him, Umbra thrust the Jedi's lightsaber away from his side, its blue blade leaving a ragged and damaged wound on Umbra's ribs.

Umbra's Crimson-Orange blade snapped out of the Jedi's abdomen and quickly struck again in one savage motion, burning and splitting him open from hip to shoulder. The Jedi staggered, and Umbra's foot snapped up as he began to collapse, kicking him in the abdomen and launching him backward.

The Jedi collapsed hard against the ground, ragged breathing sounds coming from what could only be described as a dying man. His blue lightsaber snapped shut as the strength in his hands left him. Umbra approached and stood over the man as he struggled to stay alive. Umbra's blade snapped shut as he placed it back on his belt, looking over the smoking ruin of his opponents torso. A black coin with an orange crystal set in the middle materialized in Umbra's hands as he placed it on the Jedi's tunic.

"Die well, Jedi," Umbra said as he turned away from the collapsed figure and began to move toward the temple, a single tear escaping his left eye as he moved away.