Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Invasion Through the Gates of Hell (Republic Invasion of Empress Teta - Republic vs. One Sith)

Location - Teta Museum of Fine Art & Antiquities
Objective - OH MY GOODNESS, I HEAR NOTHING!
Team - Gamma
Allies - [member="Avalore Eden"], [member="Turin Val Kur"], [member="Jannik Morlandt"] @All Republic Forces
Enemies - [member="Hion the Herglic"], [member="Darth Shara"] @All One Sith Forces
Music - Into the Darkness

As soon as the painful scream was released, Maria fell on her knees and held her ears with both of her hands. The feeling she had in the hearing organs was impossible to bear and she felt like her brain was shattering into millions of pieces. Everything around her was moving around, walls and floor and ceilings were no longer what they were meant to be, but they all moved around, probably Maria did the same. Along with her hearing, she had quite lost her balance and as long as the scream ringed in her ears, she couldn't get up. Was this truly Maria's end? It couldn't be, she couldn't die yet.

Looking around, Maria noticed another monster coming towards them and she had to get up. Even though her feet didn't listen to her, she managed to get to the others and take one of the fellow's hand. She didn't bother to look or understand who the person was, the feeling of safety was the most important thing.

Sensing her ears with the Force, Maria tried to actually see how powerful the injury was - without the Force, she could have deemed herself completely deaf, but she soon understood she can actually hear, but it may never be as good as it was before. And she had had quite good hearing before.

Interestingly, she was able to hear what the demonic Sith said, and it was a good thing, right? No, not what the man... or woman... or thing had said, but the fact that she was not completely deaf. But the speech of this person, if it could be considered one, was disturbing and nearly made Maria angry. But then she remembered Jedi are not meant to be angry, that they have to remain calm. Looked like Jannik was already dealing with him, though.
 
Location: Courtyard
Enemies: [member="Ki'an Karr"] [member="Sesab Odai"]

Truth to be told, Veles found himself disappointed his attack did not do as much damage as he had hoped for. If just a centimeter of his blade cut deeper, the Selkath would have found himself seriously injured and most likely put out for the rest of the battle. The cybernetic eye watched the amphibious Jedi turn in the air and attempt to get behind him soon after landing. Veles could not allow him to do that; every Makashi user had to know the only way of fighting multiple opponents was only if both of them faced him, possibly even having one at each side, but definitely not having one combatant in front of himself and another in the back. Luckily for the Mon Cal, the Selkath Jedi gave him an empty space to retreat to by attempting to get behind him...

Not waiting for anything, Darth Veles quickly jogged forward, slightly to the right where one of his opponents used to be. This worked very well, as the Sith Knight withdrew his left blade from the saber lock, his right blade casually swinging behind him to make sure the Jedi kept his distance, only to meet the attack meant for his head. If not for his cybernetic hand, the strong blow might have knocked the lightsaber hilt from his webbed claws. Long and quick strides carried him away from the reach of their blades once again, no obstacle in his path, though he did not walk for long. Knowing the two might follow him, thinking he was about to retreat, the Mon Cal suddenly spun around, both of his blades slashing diagonally through the air while walking backwards to gain more space.

Either intending to systematically secure the city or perhaps to find a safe area to rest, a group of six men belonging to the Sith militia stumbled across the courtyard. One of Veles' eyes wildly darted back and forth from the Jedi and at the men. "Set your weapons to stun and fire at the Jedi!" Veles barked, jumping to his left to get out of the way of their shots. The reason why he ordered the militia to use stun was simple; a bit harder to be blocked by a lightsaber and impossible to deflect, as the energy dissipated upon contact with the plasma blade. The Mon Cal quickly backed behind the men before kneeling down and taking a breath. Fighting without the Force was hard and he needed every bit of energy to be a match for anyone who could use the Force due to his inability to predict their attacks and react accordingly. His large eyes watched as three militias picked the Kel Dor as their target, three chose the Selkath.
 
LOCATION: Courtyard
ENEMIES: @[member="Darth Veles"] @[member="Astraios Blackhand"]
ALLIES: @[member="Ki'an Karr"] [member="Sesab Odai"]

The disrupter projectiles raced towards him, being met with an open-outward palm that absorbed the energy. The instincts and reaction times of Jedi far superseded those of any ordinary being. It was known the Jedi could even detect an attack before it was actually made, this was how the Jedi and Sith were capable of dodging would-be fatal blaster and slug rounds, and expect incoming blows from another combatant. Tutaminis, the ability allowed a Jedi to absorb energy into their bodies and either diffuse it or channel it. It couldn't be stored in their bodies to give them greater strength. Hasjo allowed the energy to scour through his body before erupting forth from the hand that had absorbed it. In a powerful burst of force energy, he applied a colossal wave of force push energy crashing towards Astraios.

The Exotic Weapons Master didn't halt in his paces. He moved as fluidly as a flowing river. He may be the Philosopher upon the Silver Jedi Council, but he did not shy away from battle. In this landscape he sensed the struggle of life against an unsparing dark nature. It reminded him of his homeworld’s surface territory, a land of great harshness, but one that bred a people of tremendous courage. Except for a lack of vast and roiling oceans, he might have been born on this battlefield. The Jedi Master launched himself after the Sith Acolyte, bringing to bare his dual-bladed Lightsaber Pike, cerulean plasma whining loudly as he began his assault.
 
Cractius was struck in the shoulder and collapsed to one knee . Pain ... , Cractius grinned and unleashed his most painful attack , he began to try and draw opponents life energy away to heal him , making them more tired and him at full strength with no wounds , if this worked .
 
Location: Courtyard
Enemies: [member="Darth Veles"]
Allies: [member="Sesab Odai"], [member="Hasjo Hallu"]

Ki'an's attack met nothing but air. When Sesab leapt over the Sith to avoid the stab, the Mon Cal Sith had moved into the empty space left by him. Suddenly though they no longer outnumbered the Mon Cal as six Sith troopers had wandered into the courtyard. He heard the Sith order them to fire on stun and Ki'an knew this would be more difficult. Stun bolts were harder to block than deadlier blaster fire. However, Ki'an did have the force.

Raising his hand, Ki'an ripped the blaster from the first trooper targeting him and the blaster flew into his outstretched hand. Switching the blaster off stun, Ki'an fired on the other two, hitting the first trooper in the chest and then the head, he dropped him with little difficulty. However that took time and the other trooper was firing on him. Ki'an had no choice but to dive to the side. He rolled to the right, barely avoiding the stun bolts. Coming up he fired again, striking down the last trooper targeting him then he dropped the weapon as pain radiated through his side. Reaching for his side, Ki'an saw stars for a moment. His ribs were getting worse. He had to avoid aggravating them any further or he would be vulnerable to attack.

Slowly rising to his feet, Ki'an glanced to Sesab and was sure he would be able to handle the troopers on his own. Advancing cautiously on the Mon Cal, Ki'an raised his lightsaber ahead of him and ignited the yellow blade again. He had been forced to turn it off in his roll or he would have cut himself. Ki'an slashed forward with a series of quick, fast cuts. They were not meant to deal any real damage, but rather were meant to test the Mon Cal's defenses. Ki'an was wary of fighting the duel wielding Sith on his own and needed time to evaluate his opponents skills before pushing the offensive. If the Mon Cal's skill with a single blade was any testimony to his ability with two, Ki'an would need to be cautious.
 
Location: Courtyard
Enemies: [member="Darth Veles"]
Allies: @Ki'an Karr


Toxarien felt disappointment well up inside of him when he failed to outflank the Mon Cal Sith, but he quickly pushed tat aside as the Sith soldiers came into the courtyard. He glanced over and saw Ki'an take out the three Sith soldiers that were focused on him with relative ease. He worried for his friend when he cringed with pain when he did the roll to avoid a stun blast. He blasted out with a har force push at his enemy before charging the tropps that were focused at him. He hooked sharply to the left, avoiding a volley of shots fired his way. He ducked into a roll, avoiding even more shots. He swiftly reached the troops, igniting his lightsaber as he stood from his roll, slicing off one of the troopers arms in a fluid motion. He quickly turned and impaled the next one, ducking as the last remaining trooper fired at his head, and the blast hit his friend even as he fell. he turned to the last soldier, and sliced off his left leg, ending the fight without killing him. He then returned to the duel, where he saw that Ki'an was fighting solo against the Sith. He rushed forward, going into a frenzy of acrobatic Ataru move, but still trying to keep up his guard, not going all out offense.
 
LOCATION: Teta Museum of Fine Arts
ENEMIES: [member="Maria Natalja"] [member="Jannik Morlandt"] [member="Avalore Eden"] [member="Turin Val Kur"]
ALLIES: [member="Darth Shara"]

KAAAADOOOOM!

The greatsaber struck Jannik's Force shield with tremendous force. If it had been a sword it would have carried a much more severe kinetic impact, but as it stood the red blade of contained plasma glanced off the shield. Orcus glowered, fathomless black eyes glittering. He halted his charge and stood tall above the padawans. At 7'2" few looked down upon him. He was tempted to belly flop the lot of them and crush them as he had crushed Vilox Pazela, but Shara's words stayed his prodigious girth.

Full of burning anger in the Dark Side, Orcus sucked in a deep breath. He could release that breath in a bellow, destroying all of them and turning the museum into rubble. Instead, he lifted his lightsaber before them and deactivated the blade.

"Surrender," the Herglic intoned in his deep, booming voice, "and be spared."

Likely they couldn't hear him due to having their eardrums burst, but the gesture of deactivating his lightsaber might do enough to convey the meaning. His head swung to the side as the Dark Jedi from Carida reentered Orcus' senses. The Herglic held up a massive flipper in a stopping gesture.

"We could fight, perhaps you would win... but in that time you would risk the death of your friends. I do not wish for such unnecessary deaths, nor does my brother," he gestured at the 3 meter tall Maelibus whose demonic, horned features looked anything but friendly. "Yield and accept our mercy."
 
Location: Courtyard
Enemies: [member="Ki’an Karr"] [member="Sesab Odai"]

With the Jedi separated for a moment, a much needed thing, the Mon Calamari Knight rose from his kneeling position, ready to face the lone Kel Dor before the Selkath Padawan joined the fight as well. The time window would be fairly short, but if everything worked as Veles intended, the more experienced Jedi would be incapacitated in the next few moments. Crossing his blades to form a glowing crimson X, the Sith Knight stood still, letting his opponent approach. He had noticed his wounded side, possibly some sort of internal damage as a result of Lady Banshee’s attack. This worked perfectly with the assassin’s plan. Prepared and ready, the amphibian was capable of catching the first strike…

When the yellow lightsaber came closer, the amphibious Sith blocked it between his two lightsabers, using his great strength and superior reach to push all blades to the side, leaving both combatants very unprotected. Further twisting his wrists and arms, alightly leaning forward, he pinned down all three blades, impaling the ground with his two red bladed weapons and trapping the yellow plasma between them and the ground, greatly reducing the Kel Dor’s chance of defending himself. Placing all his weight on his left leg, the Mon Cal kicked out with his right, a powerful bone shattering attack aimed to hit the Padawan’s already wounded side. All of this happened within seconds, though if the Kel Dor managed to free his blade sooner than anticipated, Veles did not risk getting his leg cut off by a lightsaber. In that case, the amphibian attempted to use the crossed lightsabers as scissors and the moment the Kel Dor started pulling his lightsaber out of the lock, release the Jedi’s blade and quickly thrust his arms forward and up to chop off the Padawan’s hands holding the lightsaber hilt.

Once the Selkath rushed to join the fight in an acrobatic manner, Veles took several steps back to create an illusion he intended to retreat a bit again, only to suddenly launch himself at the younger Jedi before the Selkath landed, thus hopefully catching him by surprise by the unexpected move and most importantly, the sheer power put into the attack as he released the crossed blades, slashing with the lightsabers in his right and left hand to their respective sides in a way that sought to horizontally cleave the Selkath’s body into three pieces. The blade in his left flipper aimed towards the upper torso, possibly head, while the one in his right hand was headed to his waist, making it difficult to block both strikes.
 
Location: Courtyard
Enemies: [member="Darth Veles"]
Allies: [member="Sesab Odai"] [member="Hasjo Hallu"]

Ki'an's blade was locked in the scissor movement of the twin blades. He felt his blade being pulled toward the ground and suddenly he became entirely too aware of his injured sides vulnerability. He saw the kick coming and he knew he couldn't avoid it. All he could do was redirect where the attack would land. Deactivating his lightsaber he spun away from the Mon Cal Sith. He knew that a spin was dangerous against a Makashi user, but Sesab was coming in with an attack and he felt sure he could avoid injury.

Ki'an's braced himself with the force, putting up what barrier he could in the split second he had. The kick landed, and landed hard catching him just above his buttock on the side of his lower back. Pain shot through Ki'an's body and he found himself propelled forward, falling and tumbling away from the Sith. When Ki'an landed, he luckily landed on his uninjured side, he still felt the fall in his ribs, but not as bad as it could have been. Worse still, Ki'an felt the muscles of his back spasm and seize up. Ki'an saw Sesab attack and could not get up to help him. At least not right away.

Slowly Ki'an rose, forcing himself up as his back protested in pain. Using the force he focused on the muscles in his back and slowly the muscles unknotted. It was several moments before he was able to fully stand and he hoped that this wouldn't spell disaster for his friend. As Ki'an finally found his feet, he realized he would now have a second area he would have to guard. Another blow like that to his back would be debilitating. Ki'an was still too weak to rush to his friends aid, but he wasn't helpless. Reaching out Ki'an called one of the fallen troopers blasters to his hand and set the weapon back on stun. As the Mon Cal leapt toward his attacking friend, Ki'an fired. The first stun bolt his aimed for the Mon Cal's legs, the second his torso, and finally the third the back of his head. He was careful in his aim, trying hard to avoid putting the shots too close to Sesab.
 
Location: Courtyard
Enemies: [member="Darth Veles"]
Allies: @Ki'an Karr


Sesab angled his body as he flew through the air, bringing his saber up for a slash, at the Sith's head, so he was caught off guard when the Sith struck out with his sabers.

Sesab tried to angle his body sideways, and he used the force to push himself higher in the air. He was higher up, so the attack aimed at his midsection only sliced off the toes of his left foot. He managed to bring his saber up to try to deflect the higher up strike, successfully knocking it away from hi face, but at the cost of the fingers of his right hand. He screamed in agony as he crashed to the ground about 20 meters from the sith, and there was an audible pop as he landed hard on his shoulder. He rolled a few feet before coming to a stop, hot tears rolling down his face as he held his stump of a fist. "You karking sith! I'll kill you!" He yelled, groaning as he gently touched his dislocated shoulder. "Please help me." He muttered.
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
Senate Building - Side Door
[member="Shaw McKeller"]
[member="Darth Nephthys"]
[member="Darth Isolda"]
[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

One great four-lobed foot ahead of the other, Boolon plodded his way through the broken door, and trod the wake of Shaw McKeller. He'd noted the Mandalorian juggernaut, gotten a taste of the Jedi aspect of the big human's mind, felt little fear of the spiked armor. Today Boolon Murr walked with demons.

But the Priest of the Mother Jungle had been a longtime member of the Jedi Order. He was used to it.

He'd left for a time, helped train the Ithorian healers of the Levantine Sanctum, but Carn Dista had persuaded him to come back, despite that disastrous HoloNet interview. And back he had come, reestablishing himself among the central Order, though his heart remained with the Sanctum. Through the Dista and Grayson administrations, he'd found varying degrees of peace and purpose here, regardless of desperate circumstances. And desperate they were -- the Force roiled, the Dark Side clouded everything, and the tired Ithorian Jedi knew that he might be going to his death.

He had turned down the rank of Master three times, but those offers had been made because of his temperament and judgment, not because of his combat ability. In truth, he was the worst duellist in the Jedi Order, with a negligible grasp of Niman and Soresu. His long lightsabre was ornamental. He could bellow with the best of them, grow plants tall and strong, pass unnoticed through sentry lines, cast the unwary into sleep, but he was no fighter. He was a doctor, a healer, a horticulturalist -- a Priest of the Mother Jungle first and foremost, heir to a philosophy and Force tradition entirely separate from that of the Jedi Knights. A tradition old and tough and passive as tree-roots.

Boolon walked in Shaw's wake, sabre unlit in one long-fingered hand, searching for the heart of the forge and the eye of the storm.
 
Location: Chasing after [member="Shaw McKeller"]
Objective: Challenge Shaw
Enemies: Republic, Jedi and her allies [member="Shaw McKeller"] [member="Boolon Murr"]
Allies: One Sith and her allies

It was there at the edge of her senses, but in reality she didn’t need to be keen on hearing to hear the massive amount of mass barraging through a door. Her senses would flare, and in her mind she could feel the large resonances of the Force.

With a dart, Nephthys gave chase. Her expression was fixated into one of sheer determination. Thunder would roar in her ears at the call of the Force, the Miraluka heritage allowing her to see the flare of Force Aura. Bright white and glinted in silver, large as the sun and stout like Watcher.

The petite figure would quickly move through the corridor, shifting left right, feet as swift as a Vornskr on the hunt.

It would not be long before the loud, boisterous mass of the Mandalorian Jedi in full armor would appear before her. His search for the Dark Side would bring her straight to seemingly mute Sokara.

Crimson eyes would narrow, and her figure would be a blur, her mind considering her options. She would need to use his momentum and large size against him. And from the look of that sword he carried -- distance.

// Onii-san // would come the cry of the woman to her twin. // May the One give me strength //

So it was no surprise that the young petite One Sith would glance up towards the chandelier above.

Her hand would extend, curl round a she used the Force to rip the antique gargantuan chandelier from the vaulted ceiling. Her intention, to crash it on top of him in the hopes that the brass loops that held each ignited lamp could perhaps be used later to wrap around him.
 

Shaw McKeller

The Demon of Concordia
Location: Senate Building
Objective: Defeat [member="Darth Nephthys"], rescue [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]
Allies: @Jedi and Republic Forces, [member="Boolon Murr"]
Enemies: [member="Darth Nephthys"], [member="Darth Isolda"]

He could feel the pulse of the Dark Side come closer to him, beckoning to his senses. It told him of the presence of another. It whispered in his mind the secrets the dark paths held. It tugged at his soul, enticing his heart to feel the warm embrace once more.

Shaw resisted.

It was a passive thing, something that only those who had tread the darker paths before could know. Wherever the dark side was, the pull was there. It was like an addiction. A drug, in a way. A sinister thing that pulled seductively on the senses for those who had embraced it before. Training, experience, and raw willpower instinctively came to the fore, lending the Mandalorian an edge. Not to fight, but to resist the pull and the urge. He was a stone pillar amid a sea of darkness. His feet anchored firmly in the rock beneath, worn by time and the dark sea, but reaching forever to the heavens. To the light.

He saw his assailant as she darted towards him. He felt the pull in the Force and when he heard the ripping, tearing sounds from above, he knew what she was attempting. She was trying to crush him beneath the stones of the ceiling.

Shaw knew he wasn't fast enough to dodge or roll away, the armor was too heavy and to do so would tax his strength in the Force, possibly leaving him vulnerable in the relatively near future. Instead, he dropped his sword, his Jag'Kyramud, his Man-Slayer, down low and let the point rest on the ground behind him. He then lifted the great shield he bore above his head, trusting in the ornamented beskar to protect him from harm.

To his mild surprise, it was the chandelier, not the stones, that crashed down upon his shield. The great, brass thing smashed down and crumpled and shattered upon the shield. The weight of the metal pressed down on Shaw's body and forced him down to one knee. His hip twinged in discomfort, but he felt no broken bones and his HUD told him there were no armor breaches.

On one knee, his shield overhead, and twisted brass and broken crystal all around, Shaw waited for his assailant to take advantage of his position. As a veteran warrior, he knew it was coming.
 

Ashin Varanin

Professional Enabler
Senate Building
[member="Darth Nephthys"]
[member="Shaw McKeller"]

It wasn't.

Upon entering the chamber, Boolon beheld the spiked man-mountain, the immense chandelier, and the girl with her hand upraised. Clear enough what had happened here, with Boolon's ear membranes still ringing from a rending of brass and wires. Boolon stretched out his hands, long fingers splaying out. His right still held the unlit sabre, but that forefinger extended as part of the near-symmetrical full-body gesture.

"Peace, friend," he said, and the Force rang like a bass gong, like a crashing command ship, like an earthquake shivering the bones of a world, as his mental influence focused in on Nephthys. It had, admittedly, been a while since he'd gone mind-against-mind with a Sith, but he still bore the scars of Val'Ryss Zankarr's lightning, the blow after blow he'd taken as he slowly, inexorably put her to sleep mid-combat. And when she'd blessed his name in Jedi chains and sought redemption, he'd realized something new.

That even though he'd had to turn Aleidis over to Olra'en for mentalism training, he was actually good at bringing this form of peace. Even to Sith Masters in the grasp of hatred.

Immense eyes half-lidded as his mind pressed down on hers, attempting to muffle Force bonds, wash away empowering rage, bring her brain to a state of drowsiness or unconsciousness.
 
Location: Meditation Chamber
Objective: Turn [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] into a Tabula Rosa
Enemies: Jedi and Republic
Allies: One Sith
Music: Tree of the Dead

The threat would fall upon the Eye of the Dark Lord’s ears like the sweetest of aria’s, the right corner of her mouth curving upward in a small satisfied smirk.

Her grip would fist tightly along Aaralyn’s skull, nails piercing skin in an attempt to bring beads of the Jedi’s blood to the surface as she continued her barrage of the woman’s mind.

Yess͜s….͠o̡n͡ your̡ ҉blood͘, my l̴itt̴le l͠os͏t ͢Vahl͝a̢. ̶ ́A̵ b̴lood͡ pr҉ice.͝” she would purr out with a roll of power in her Force, dark shadows playing over the sharpened angles of her face. The Darkside would coil and continue to shoot through her fingers, tearing through the fragile barrier of flesh, bone, and grey matter. Her will would rush with white hot currents through delicate neurons, crossing the narrow gaps of her synapses, feeling the changing chemical composition for the short term memories. Long term memories were next, as electric current would disrupt and interfere with the Jedi's memories.

Like a heavy chain being pulled from it’s spindel, Isolda would wipe and tear through from the frontal lobe and the parietal lobe onto the hippocampus. The roaring anger and emotions would only feed her conviction, attempting to clearly and utterly turn the woman into a blank slate, to where she would not even recall the threat she so fervently uttered.

Yess… perfect. Absolutely perfect.

The Goḑd͏ess̀ ̡w͝il͘l ̕be̡ g͞e͝ne̢r͠ou͏s t͢o̷ He͟r͡ S̷wor̡d̴. It̴ is̛ ҉H͞e̴r wi͡ll…͟” she would come closer, her focus absolute. Her entire body would thrum with energy, conviction in every word, in every action.

Y͟ou҉ŗ ́D͞est͠i̡ny..

Her lips would be scant inches from Aaralyn’s own, an almost loving whisper flowing into the shell of Aaralyn’s ear,

W͈̟͓e͏̪̱l҉̘͕c̡͙̝̦o͇͇̺̙̤m҉͖̫͔̻̙͙e̻̬̮̘̺ ̝̗͙͉̻͈h͎͍ͅo̮ḿ̳͓̪̝̩͍e͝ͅ,̛̤ ͇͈d̟e̛͇͇̖a̪͖̻r̫̳͔͉̝̞͈̕e̸̼s̥t̟͕̩̣̭̟͕͝ ̞̺̮̭̰̗s̴i̵͉̭͎̪s̼̘͖̬̘͝ţ̪e̜̤͙̭̖r̡͚̻̻͚̫͈͓.̬̭̮͍̯ ͕̘̜̜̝̖̮́ ̴̲̩͎̘͖.͜
 
Location: Meditation Chamber
Objective: Trying to remember who I am?
Enemies: Who is the enemy?
Allies: The Goddess...?
Music:
http://youtu.be/YtA17SBQ2z4

It was like fingers twirling back the hands of a clock, twisting them rapidly as memories of her life fluttered before her very vision like a holovideo. The tendrils of darkness wrapping themselves around her mind as they destroyed memory after memory. Memories of her father, and their troubled relationship. The arguments they had, the long talks that seemed like forever ago and the discussions about life in general. The way he looked at her and smiled when she got excited about something, the way he talked about her mother, the way he even held her when she cried. There was so much more to the life of [member="Ember Rekali"] and Aaralyn Rekali than people knew, there was a softness behind the veil of Beskar'gam.


For instance...


There was a time when they were on Ossus together, and Aaralyn had become a Master. She was going on that ill-fated mission to Dantooine and Ember had a bad feeling about it. She could feel his concern, she could see the look on his face. She remembered telling him. "You have to trust me, I can handle it. You taught me well."

He taught her so much over the span of her life, all twenty-two years of it. He did everything he could to ensure she would grow up to be a great Jedi and an even better person. Somehow, greatness brought her here. A crippled angel in the arms of a demon. The very being that was Aaralyn Rekali being cleansed by the forces of darkness, evil tempting to consume her heart. Those lessons though, came to her mind as she stared blankly at the Meditation Chamber ceiling, deep within the bowels of the Iron Citadel.


Like the lessons on certain values....


Her father was always about accountability, always chiding her and telling her to hush and "Let the grown ups talk." Even if it were in a playful manner. He never could stand someone who didn't take responsibility for what they did right or wrong. She could remember when she cut through a local establishment, a restaurant as it were and busted out a window to catch a bounty hunter who had stole some sensitive information. She could hear Ember's voice now as if it were the same day it happened. "You have to take responsibility for what you did, you can't be so reckless!" She remembered shelling out credits to pay for the damage and being upset about it, of course then, she was alot younger. She could remember now being young and reckless. Even more so, she could remember faces of people long since gone, her grandmother who used to always take her to the park and give her blue milk and cookies and let her stay up late reading holobooks under the covers. A woman who protected her like she was her mother...


That was the funny thing about age, some of the best moments in the span of ones life are forgotten, like a simple time at a playground.


She saw herself going up and down at a park on Corellia, a child of maybe seven or eight. Swinging back and forth on a swingseat in a public place, laughing and giggling, yelling "Higher, higher!" The face of her grandmother? Was that her grandmother? The woman clearly looked as if she wasn't of Corellian blood. She looked, different. She was laughing as she pushed the younger Aaralyn on the swingset, and then something caught her attention that caused her to gently slow and stop the swing all together. "Come Aara, let's go over here..." The woman was looking at something distant and then her gaze shifted down to Aaralyn as she tugged at the child who too was staring at the distant object or thing. The ethereal presence of Aaralyn grimaced as the world shifted, shattering and shaking as her vision became that of the younger version of herself.

She blinked for a moment as her vision readjusted, and there just a few meters infront of her, near a tree was a shadowy figure. A Whipid who had been watching over her since her mother died a few years back, a Jedi Master who had made a promise to his former Padawan that he would take in the child of Rekali and train her to be a great Jedi and hide her from the Empire. She remembered that fateful day, as it was also the day Master L'hnaar had come for her and taken her away despite the objections of her grandma. It was something meant to be, as if destiny had reached out and pointed to her and deemed she be a Jedi. It all came back to her mother, despite the demonic voice of Isolda echoing around her memories. The face of Kryslin Deltain took shape infront of her and soon the memories followed. She could remember the feel of her mothers embrace, the look on her face as Aaralyn took her first steps.


What happened to simpler times?


For a moment there was everything and in a blink of an eye, nothing. Nothing but darkness surrounding her presence within her own mind. The visage of each person that she knew and loved was before her: [member="Ayden Cater"], [member="Ember Rekali"], [member="Shaw McKeller"], [member="Kiskla Grayson"], her mother. Behind them, dozens of people she interacted with, staring at her blankly.

Then came the maniacal laugh of [member="Darth Isolda"] and the sound of men, women, children screaming. The words of the Dark Lady echoing in her mind as she systematically killed everything she knew and loved. As the presence of Isolda reached the forms of her family, friends and loved ones...She seemed to take her time. She would rip them apart, the terror and emotion on their face causing Aaralyn to lash out against Isolda but to no avail. She was chained down as each person was killed, crying out in anger and fear as the chains weighed her form down. When Isolda reached Ayden, she could feel the connection between Aaralyn and Ayden no doubt and she exploited it. She took her time ripping apart his flesh, his innards, his bones. A gruesome sight in the end that vanished into nothingness. When she reached Ember though, Aaralyn's mind couldn't take it. It had accepted the fate and submitted to [member="Darth Isolda"]'s breaking. Aaralyn wept as she looked up to [member="Ember Rekali"] who stared down at her chained form.

He would reach down for her, but before he could reach her, Isolda struck and Ember was gone. Everything she knew, was gone. Now, there was only herself left against the onslaught of the Dark Lady. As Isolda approached her, Aaralyn struggled against the chains, but found herself fighting a weight that was immeasurable. She could only watch as the woman knelt before her and grabbed her face, the fingernails of Isolda piercing her pale flesh. Crimson liquid would drip down the fingers of the Dark Lady as she smirked and leaned in, speaking words that brought dread to the very heart of Aaralyn Rekali, the mighty Sword of the Jedi.

W͈̟͓e͏̪̱l҉̘͕c̡͙̝̦o͇͇̺̙̤m҉͖̫͔̻̙͙e̻̬̮̘̺ ̝̗͙͉̻͈h͎͍ͅo̮ḿ̳͓̪̝̩͍e͝ͅ,̛̤ ͇͈d̟e̛͇͇̖a̪͖̻r̫̳͔͉̝̞͈̕e̸̼s̥t̟͕̩̣̭̟͕͝ ̞̺̮̭̰̗s̴i̵͉̭͎̪s̼̘͖̬̘͝ţ̪e̜̤͙̭̖r̡͚̻̻͚̫͈͓.̬̭̮͍̯ ͕̘̜̜̝̖̮́ ̴̲̩͎̘͖.͜


And with that, Aaralyn Rekali, was no more.
 
Location: Senate
Objective: Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!
Enemies: Republic, Jedi and her allies Shaw McKeller Boolon Murr
Allies: One Sith and her allies



Another would show. Alien. Ithorian.

She had to act quickly, before the other could strike. A dark edge of forbearing would go dancing along like ice along her spine, but resolve would send it scattering as she summoned the Darkside to her.

This is where she would make her stand, Darth Nephthys would muse as she narrowed her eyes to slits, letting the Force hammer through her veins and pulse through her mind. The currents of the invisible energy field practically went pulsed within her, matching her heart beat as she drew more and more of it into her, imbuing her arms, her legs, her lungs, her mind.

// Onii-san, the feeling was intoxicating //; power, raw and promising, flowed into her being like pure water into a basin.

Nephthys would bring her hand down, hands outstretched as she concentrated the Force into it, sending rivets of this power coursing down her arms, her biceps, into the shells of her palm, ready to send the twisted brass loops of the chandelier round the Padawan.

The mute would gather the Force to her and then would tighten her grip, fully intending to weave those loops around [member="Shaw McKeller"], the sound of groaning metal creaking through the room as it would start to curl inward-- only to halt halfway.

Crimson eyes would widen; first in shock. Then in growing alarm.

There, before her outstretched hand, those fingers extended like claws would start to tremble, to fight against the growing suffocating pressure she would feel coming from the Ithorian mirroring her very action. Like a blanket being draped over her, she could feel the coaxing pressure of the Jedi Knight's mind against her own.

Her teeth would bear in a growing grimace, attempting to fight against the heavy muffling suggestion. But his voice, the deep thrum of his voice would go echoing in her mind; resonating with power, washing her with the purest of mineral waters, cooling the rage that she held so desperately near.


// OOOOOOOOOOOONIII--SAAAAAAAAAN! //

Would come the mental cry in the Force, calling for her other half. Her twin. [member="Darth Tuk'ata"]. But to no avail. Separated from him she was vulnerable.

Weak.

No.

// NO! // She would hammer out in the Force at the Knight. // No! //As she struggled against the silken web the Ithorian would weave against her.

Even as her eyelids would start to grow heavy.
 

Alan

Blessed are the peacemakers
If Tracyn could see his face- he'd probably not even flinch it. He had to deal with @Asha Seren's grim face multiple times throughout their marriage. He tossed aside the red lightsaber as Marcus' blade came towards his neck, and [member="Darth Vindica"] nearly landed a hit- and took off his head. By the time the hilt was halfway to the ground, Tracyn was already back in his Teras Kasi stance. Tracyn saw the move, in fact, [member="Darth Vornskr"] tried a similar strategy- and all Tracyn had to do, was pull his arm back, and turn his wrist over. The red blade slammed into his palm, dragging his palm downwards. Tracyn still had to deal with the pressure and force of the blow, so it forced him to his knees, bending at the thighs. Tracyn looked up at Marcus, as the blade was pressing downwards onto the Mandalorian Iron.

"Only temporary strength comes from rage."Tracyn's powerful legs began to push upwards. Years of training and wearing Beskar'gam had made his muscles like steel chord."True strength, my dear friend.."He began to grit his teeth, resisting the Sith lord."Comes from inner harmony and control. Control is the means to clarity. And you, lack clarity."Marcus was stronger than Tracyn anticipated- infact he had actually surprised the Jedi with that fact. But, like Tracyn said, control was a lack. And control meant clarity. Tracyn had time now, time to think. And he came up with a nasty, brutal maneuver to put Marcus to the dirt. His left, occupied with the lightsaber, held it's weight, and his right, began to curl into a fist. And it shot forth, with such expertise towards Marcus' exposed chest.

"The maneuver is steel hands. It is synonymous with Teras Kasi. And [member="Darth Vulcanus"], has experienced it. You, shall as well."


A vicious strike went for Marcus' chest. It was powerful enough to dent Krag's ultrachrome armor and send him flying- so there was no telling what it might do to his exposed chest. Tracyn got a look at his flesh, sickeningly pale and broken. This man, was a victim, just as most Sith were. He had been lured. He had been baited. But Tracyn was determined to help him. Because the dark side was a cancer, and a cancer that could be cured. He could sense the good within Marcus, the inner turmoil, the doubt. He just hoped to incapacitate him, to talk to him, to reason with him. Or knock him out, and take him somewhere where the dark side wouldn't bother him, or at least, his Sith masters.
 
LOCATION: Outside of the Great Library - Not on top
OBJECTIVE: What is going on, react react react!
ALLIES: TLSoTF | Jared Ovmar | Zaren Bouqi | Darth Kentarch | Popo
ENEMIES: Darth Vornskr | Darth Arcis | @Lady Exedō | Doctor Agnusdei | sabrina

Apparently whatever the red-head was wearing made Force attacks hardly effective. Kiskla’s back was pressed against a pillar of the library — something unsettling was felt, but since she was surrounded by the dark side she couldn’t pinpoint the origin. She could hear the woman’s suggestion to run away and she had to avoid rolling her eyes. She talked a lot. Kiskla recalled when she talked a lot during combat, her master and Cameron had warned her against it. Then, she sent out a threat about those beneath her protective wing. Apparently she wanted a duel — fine.

Both her palms flattened and dual hilts slapped against them, her arms held at her sides as she stepped out and squared with the woman -- keeping a wary eye on the distracting dances going on just behind her. Blades, sparks, etcetera. As much as Kiskla was about to be engaged with The Sith, she would be ready to intervene on a moment's notice.

“If you’re wanting to play, Sith, you say the game.” She didn’t activate the blades yet, only held them — her body tensed and ready to activate in reaction to [member="Lady Exedō"] “-but I’ll make the rules.”
 
LOCATION: Library
ALLIES: One Sith [member="Darth Arcis"] [member="Darth Vornskr"] [member="Darth Banshee"]
ENEMIES: Jedi/Republic [member="Kiskla Grayson"]

Shinju looked at the jedi and walked with her as she held her lightsaber, more inclined to enjoy this moment. She wanted to drink in the fight and then.... and then she spoke. "Bah don't insult me jedi." She spit the taste of it out of her mouth. "I am not here because I am a sith or because I care about their cause. I am here jedi because they pay me with a pound of flesh and I enjoy collecting." Her tongue flicked over her teeth and licked at the dried blood on her lip for a moment before a smile curled letting the incisors show nice and sharpened. Then she was moving but less towards Kiskla and keeping her eyes locked on the woman. The exposed and damaged sections of her armor of interest as she focused and pulled.

Lightly, more as a tug of wanting, she pulled for the warmth. The heat and her energy, letting the darkside feed into her and all Shinju presented was a feeling of refreshed enjoyment, contentment. Even the throbbing in her shoulder was going away to numb as slowly it throbbed with a sensation that she pulled at allowing the saber to feed into her as it screamed. "My offer is still open jedi. No?" Her head tilted a little and now it was madness gleaming in her eyes, sending it along to bleed out for Kiskla and her hand flashed, shimmering with blue between the fingers while she let tutaminis show. Her ryokinesis pulling, wanting the heat and energy of the jedi, her feeding on the essence of those around seeking to gnaw and tire Kiskla out faster and faster.

"Then jedi I guess it will be a wonderful meal." Then she was moving again and letting red tendrils crackle between her fingers, no need to try lightning and expand her own energies. Let the jedi feel her hunger and pull, let her succumb to fatigue as an arc of red launched from her hand to strike and lap at Kiskla, to try and speed up the process as Shinju pushed to feed upon her in the force before moving in physically. Then she was focusing on something told to her and observed that drain didn't really have a counter except to form a loop, a feeding circle of darkside energy stealing away and her laugh was coming now while she kept pulling for that essence and body heat. Easier to feed and enjoy when your feeling your body recharge from everything around you.
 

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