What Are Friends For? [The Rescue of Darth Isolda] (Sith Empire, Alliance-in-Exile Welcome)

[H3xle]

OBJECTIVE: Stop (or slow) the Sith Advance
LOCATION: Alliance Prison Fortress
ALLIES: [member="Sav Elko"] | [member="Logan Wulf"]
ENEMIES: [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Pythia"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Lassiter"] | [member="darth carnifex"]

The problem with blasters is that, eventually, they run out of bolts. Given the proximity of enemy forces, she wasn't about to stop to reload. No matter how fast she was at it, she could never be fast enough to do it and keep holding her position, tenuous as it was. With a smooth motion, the blaster was in her holster, and both hands were filled with lightsabers.

Dual wielding sabers, now, she pressed forward into the legionnaires, pressing them back from the doors as the wardens came to hold it with her. She changed from pushing forward to holding ground, switching to a purely defensive stance that was distinctly grounded in Soresu. Each blade flicked this way and that to keep the wardens behind her safe from the bolts of the legionnaires.

Darkness pervaded the field, however, and Azala sensed that the legionnaires may have been stymied at this door, but the Sith were still pushing on.

They had found another way through.

Azala's gaze flicked up the line of legionnaires before her, and settled on the Sith Emperor himself. He was seemingly lounging against the wall, but every report of the Sith Emperor warned against underestimating him. The cause for his apparent lack of concern was evident moments later as the legionnaires and Sith around him began vanishing into what had been a solid wall. The Emperor himself pressed through a heartbeat later.

Azala's nostrils flared. Her eyes took in the legionnaires before her, the large armored woman just beyond them, and knew that she couldn't leave the wardens here alone. They needed her to help hold this door.

Unsettled with her inability to be everywhere at once, Azala could only hope that there were others able to defend against the new point of incursion. Behind her she heard a warden radio out that a breach had been made in the wall, but that they were pinned down at the main door to the landing platforms.

Azala let go of the problems elsewhere, then. Everything had been done that could be done, and all that was left was to see her piece of the battle through and hope the Sith were stymied.

 

[Joycelyn Zambrano]

Objective 1: Free Isolda
Allies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Pythia"] [member="Lassiter"] [member="Taeli Raaf"] [member="Darth Helios"]
Opponents: [member="Azala Kyse"] [member="Logan Wulf"] [member="Sav Elko"]

The screamer grenade stunned its opponents, allowing the legionnaires to clear the first turn inside the door, but they were still hard pressed. Shots clipped down the stunned wardens as they pulled left. One of the last legionnaires to enter set down a heavy blaster, stabilising it on a mobile tripod. The portable turret revved up into a hailstorm of blaster bolts, laying down an intense suppressive fire. He knew it was a suicide mission, it was his choice. He was not just another legionnaire; he was vahla, of the Ember. He knew what their mission meant for his people, as well as the Empire.

Giving his life for his captain, for her vision. For Vahl.

Joycelyn and a handful of the men she had come with were able to squeeze through the pressure and escape down into the prison's halls. As she slipped through, she glanced over her shoulder and looked at the Jedi defenders, her eyes locked with the Togruta, and even behind the canine visor of her helmet, she knew the Jedi knew Joycelyn was smiling mockingly.

As the turret pumped out its thunderstorm, and the black, armourweave cape trailing from Joycelyn's shoulders slipped around the corner, she sent a torrent of fire from her hand, washing across the walls and ceiling like a hungry swarm of ants, seeking something, anything to devour.

The Sith Knight searched in the Force, there were presences everywhere, but there were a few distinct ones she wished to find. Most of all, that of the Eye of Vahl. She could not quite find it, yet she would bet those powerful in the dark side of the Force were kept deep, deep in the tunnels ahead.

Another part of her wished the togruta would follow her. Zaudraka wished so too, it itched her mind, asking her to turn around and confront it.

 

[Brooke Waters]

A lot of work to be done but Sav knew she wasn’t one for leading a fight. Still, she could help support. And knowing that some of the other, more combat oriented Jedi were out there? That helped her get into the right place. From here, working with these people? She could accomplish a lot. Sure, she wasn’t a healer, but Coren did stress on her the need for protective Force powers. And she could do that, as well as a number of other tricks. But if Azala was going to jump into the fray? Savannah could at least back her up.

Stepping back, lightsaber in hand but extinguished, Sav called on the Force. She had a few toys with her, things loaded with concussive energy that she could throw to try to stall, but first she was calling up a barrier, using her connection to the mysteries of the Force, and the understanding of the light side, she was pushing energy to help surround the blade in front of her.

It was a tactic she had used on Coren a few times, but this was different. It was trusting someone that wasn’t her Master, and giving her all to stop the flow of the Sith. She was pushing out in the Force, letting the younglings know to run. Defender Corvettes would be lifting off, and hopefully the local Sector Force or Roving Line was going to arrive.

That was what they needed. Especially with the Darkness that was the Sith Emperor and lackeys here.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]
[member="Logan Wulf"]
[member="Pythia"]
[member="Azala Kyse"]

 

[Zark San Tekka]

"Nobody escapes from Tython. At least, that's what we would tell the boys in CorSec Max before their transfer. Bunch of blade boys humping shank, compared to the here and now. Brass doesn't want to poke the rancor, I get that. So me and the Sarge 'borrowed' a chopper, brought a few of Corellia's finest along with. Could give a kriff about hokey religions or war and peace, but we're not about to let a little thing like galactic anarchy get in the way of keeping Coronet's streets safe..."​

Mykas Venture Memlogs, 851 ABY​

​

It was an off book assignment, way off book.

Crammed in with all the rest, Inspector Venture could feel the dropship's hull vibrating against his own metallic frame during reentry. No formal recognition existed between Tython Command and the Confederation, but only a short time ago the correctional officers at Belia Darzu had been his colleagues and letting some of the galaxy's worst offenders run free because of politics didn't sit right with him. Neither did it agree with the fully armed and armored CorSec Tactical Response Team sharing his ride down planetside.

Myk was no commando, but he was steely eyed and could take a punch. Clutching a scattergun in his arms, the detective wore a simple longcoat with his service weapon holstered on his belt. Occasionally his backup piece, a battered old Adjudicator, would thud against his torso in its concealed armpit holster. Last but not least was ol reliable, dangling across from his blaster. Still, even before they were nearly blown out of the sky by Sith starfighters, he was beginning to suspect that he was out of his element.

Not bothering with a landing pad, their hotshot pilot set them down in the middle of a courtyard already half overrun by Legionnaires. Anti-personnel turret providing a brief window of covering fire, Corellian commandos began pouring out before they had even fully set down, charging recklessly into battle despite the seemingly insurmountable odds.

"Time to go to work," Venture lit a cigarra, and stepped out into the crossfire.

[member="Azala Kyse"] | [member="Logan Wulf"] | [member="Sav Elko"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Pythia"] | [member="Lassiter"] | [member="Darth Helios"]​

 

[Vestille Thumahra]

Vestille Thumahra​

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Jedi Temple, Tython​

Objective II :: Raid the Archives, Open the Door​

Supporting: [member="Darth Ophidia"]​

Directly Engaging: [member="Jade Whisperwind"]​

The emptiness in the force would only draw closer.

The Major's entrance into the temple had been one of uneventful but successful infiltration; the combination of invisibility for both his physical and mental presence was no doubt a great asset slipping past any security measures that had been put in place at their insertion point at the rear of the temple itself, the Pale Assassin's equipment had certainly proved its worth as Vestille skulked through the weak points and unguarded passageways. Now, split off from Darth Ophidia and isolated on his assigned task, he was within the belly of the beast and his objective was in sight; the temple wasn't exactly difficult to navigate in terms of its layout and any potential misguidance was eliminated long before they had even deployed to the surface of the planet. Constant studying of blueprints, identifying the best routes to take and potential areas of difficulty and how to avoid them; this was no small time operation run by a bunch of thugs, professional soldiers and their force sensitive masters sought to reave and leave nothing more than a smoldering wreck in their wake. Like times of old.

In transit, however, his footsteps weren't inaudible, a solid thud against the flooring with each step, signalling to those still within the temple that they were not alone. Drawing his sword, across the wall that he passed he struck, allowing the corrupted songsteel to cry out its harrowing call which echoed through the hallways that once stood proudly as the heart of the Jedi. The sick and evil call of the Executor, akin to a bell signifying the death that was approaching. The Sith's grim reaper had step foot within the holy place, corrupting and tainting its passageways with every step and strike. Force Users, like anyone else, had a breaking point, a pool of morale that could be tapped into and sapped, fears that could be played upon. As much as physical warfare was vital, in his past experiences fighting Jedi; lowering their resolve ensured that mistakes were more common and will to fight was suppressed.

Making them an easy kill for the hungry wolf among scattered sheep.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Objective: Free [member="Darth Isolda"]
Location: Alliance Prison Fortress
Friends: [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Pythia"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Lassiter"] | [member="Darth Helios"]
Enemies: [member="Azala Kyse"] | [member="Sav Elko"] | [member="Logan Wulf"] | [member="Myk Venture"]

This hallway was too cramped.

Metal buckled and squealed as the hall's ceiling was pushed up along its center, cables sparking with electricity as internal systems were crushed and pushed aside. All of this was done to prevent the Dark Lord of the Sith from having to bend down to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling, which in proportion to an average man was of adequate height, but to someone like the Epicanthix Emperor, it was far too short for his liking.

However, his power wasn't merely wasted on adjusting the height of the path he and his soldiers trailed. Alliance wardens found themselves flung against the bulkheads of doors and against the dark gray durasteel walls, their armor buckling like tin cans as an invisible hand stretched out and grasped them with unbreakable strength. Some were even torn limb from limb by the invisible hand, like a small child tearing the legs off of a captured spider. Twisted in half, blown against a wall until they shattered, necks throttled, and heads crushed like melons. Everywhere the Sith Emperor went, death and brutality were left behind in his wake. He spared no one and was neither merciful or kind, anyone who dared to stand in his way was subjected to brutal torment and death.

All of their suffering fed him, strengthened him as he struck deeper and deeper into the prison. Ray shields and barricades could not stop him, they only served to slow his implacable advance through the facility. And all the while he reached out through the Dark Side, letting his presence touch the mind of every Sith with a simple promise.

KNOW THAT I AM COMING​

SALVATION IS AT HANDS, BROTHERS AND SISTERS​

REJOICE​

 

[RC 212]

Jedi Temple, Tython
Save the Holocrons

[member="Vestille Thumahra"] [member="Darth Ophidia"]

(OOC: I read this as you attack. Please correct if I'm wrong.)

What silence there was broke under the assault. The emptiness drew closer, but was illusive. She kept her eyes closed, and the Padawans stirred, uneasiness filling their minds. They shuffled and fumbled with their sabers, but Jade held firm like an eye in a storm, breathing....waiting.

Dull thumps gave way to a cry as a blade materialized and struck, slashing down into the leg of the Padawan on her left.

Chapped lips curled back from her pearly teeth in a snarl.

Her lightsaber sprang to life with a snap-hissssss. A brilliant Sapphire beam burst forth, lighting up every shadow in the room. The tell tale shimmer of cloaking device caught her eye. She became like water, fluid and swift, the force flowing fully through her core. She pivoted and snarled, thrusting the point of her Sapphire blade into the center mass of the shimmers, the other hand shoving the wounded Padawan back and away from the fight......

"Run! Help the others escape!"

 

[Vestille Thumahra]

Vestille Thumahra​

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​

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Jedi Temple, Tython​

Objective II :: Raid the Archives, Open the Door​

Supporting: [member="Darth Ophidia"]​

Directly Engaging: [member="Jade Whisperwind"]​

The Jedi was arrogant, he would give her that.

The lightsaber was ignited, the blue blade illuminating both the shimmer and the general surroundings before it was thrust towards the visual anomaly. Whilst her intent was to no doubt spear the assailant with the blade, she would instead find it countered with the sword that had been swung and injured the Padawan that he had struck. It was then that the cloak began to dissipate, revealing the towering Major that had locked blades with the leader of the Jedi rabble. With his augmentations coming into play, the Legionary had every right to push forward, break her block and deliver the sentence right there and then but no, he simply kept her locked in the test of might, keeping her mind focused on keeping herself alive and giving those that she ordered to flee enough time to escape from the Sith's grim reaper that now seeped his presence through the temple. His priority was not to chase down the Padawans; the door was mission critical and, unknown to the Jedi, those that Vestille had come alongside would no doubt fall upon the fleeing Jedi.

This one, however, needed to be sent a message; one of failure.

Keeping the engaged Padawan steady with the locking of blades, the Major saw fit to remove one of his hands from the hilt and draw his Minos-7, whipping it out of its snug holster as he aimed towards the wounded Padawan that was now fleeing and fired, a beam shot flying through the air with its intent to strike directly into her center mass and kill her. A message, a sign to show that no matter how much the Jedi tried to save the ones she cared for or tried to delay the Sith and their goals, failure was inevitable, no matter how long it took, how long she thought she could run and fight, if the raging wolf didn't rip her apart, the pestilence of war would slowly creep up on her and eat away at her until she fell from the light or the light simply ceased to be.

This was only the beginning.

 

[RC 212]

Jedi Temple, Tython
Save the Holocrons

[member="Vestille Thumahra"] [member="Darth Ophidia"]

The blast that took the Padawan's life shook her. She didn't see it, but she felt it. She heard the scream as he fell forwards smoldering hoke in his back. It shook her, more than any dark-side artifact casting off evil ever could. That was someone she'd spent a lot of time with, gotten to know very well. That was her student, and her friend.

She growled and retracted her blade, skipping backwards a step.

Her eyes locked with his. Her left foot slid forwards, her left back. The arm that held her blade extended, point facing Vestille, elbow loosely bent.

Then she struck, shuffling forwards, launching a thrust, that transitioned into a swing from the elbow backwards, and down aiming to strike his left leg with a precise but measured strike. The kind that was finesse, rather than brute force.....

 

[Darth Ophidia]

2. Attack on the Jedi Temple Archives

Following their infiltration, their group dispersed. Each member had a given task; some would be opening doors, other would be planting bombs, all to sow discord in the defences. Some were simply tasked with assaulting essential personell.

Darth Ophidia had another task in mind, additional to the assault, but primary in her mind: The acquisition of artefacts.

For this purpose, she remained in the shadows, observing only for a moment as the [member="Jade Whisperwind"] fell into a deadly dance with [member="Vestille Thumahra"]. Parts of her soul ached to step in and end the Jedi, highjacking the Major's battle for her own vendetta. No, she turned her back on them and slipped deeper into her cloak of shadows; her presence buried itself deeper in the Force.

She strode deeper into the Jedi Temple, careful to circumvent and avoid confrontation.

Oh she did want to fight, but she was not the archetypal warrior. Rather, she sought to strike from the shadows. It was who she was, what she did, how she had orchestrated the rise and fall of kings and queens, of beloved presidents and vile dictators. She had chosen to work in the shadows so that the Sith could better face the light.

And this- This theft that she sought to commit -was but one of the tools she employed to further that goal.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

"Blastouts are a lot like the space pirate boogie, only if you miss a step you lose a lot more than your footing. Stormtroopers are no street rats, but its still at its core just doors and corners. The Sith like to pretend they're all superhuman, same as the Jedi, but you fill em full of holes and they die real good all the same. The trick is getting past their mojo, but like all old tricks all it takes to pull off is a little practiced sleight of hand..."​

Mykas Venture Memlogs, 851 ABY​

​

The courtyard had been a complete warzone, but after the CorSec Tactical Response Team had carved out a window for him, Myk had blown his way past both stormtroopers guarding the nearest pathway inside the old Sith fortress. It was a lot quieter on the inside, which either meant they were too late or about to be. Most of Venture's men had remained outside to reinforce the flagging Tython Command defenders, but a fireteam had accompanied the Inspector inside to assist in securing the prisoners.

With a fluid motion, he effortlessly cleared the scattergun's chamber. The Sith were not the only ones on scene with a little prescience on their side, he had no way of knowing who was who but the android detective's inbuilt sensors led him unerringly towards the nearest life signs. He heard blaster fire before he saw them, peaking around a corner, his movements did not go unnoticed by a rearguard in the mundane host of [member="Darth Carnifex"].

The Legionnaire let out a cry of alarm. In frustration Myk pivoted out from behind cover, and cut the soldier nearly in half with a close range blast. Ducking back around the corner moments before an eruption of returned blaster fire filled the hall, the Inspector braced himself tightly against the cover of the corner until it died down.

"Throw down your weapons and come out with your hands up!" he shouted in retaliation, glancing back at the response team commandos huddled against the wall alongside him in staggered positions and offering a shrug, "No harm in trying."

[member="Azala Kyse"] | [member="Logan Wulf"] | [member="Sav Elko"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Pythia"] | [member="Lassiter"] | [member="Darth Helios"]​

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Objective 1: Free [member="Darth Isolda"] and others
Location: Cresting the Tythos Ridge
Allies: [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] [member="Pythia"] [member="Lassiter"] [member="Darth Helios"]
Enemies: [member="Sav Elko"] [member="Azala Kyse"] [member="Myk Venture"] [member="Logan Wulf"]

Cresting the ridge, finally, Taeli looked over the imposing image of a fortress under attack by the might of the Sith Legion. The entire march and charge of these Flesh Raiders had taken forever, squabbling and bickering over who would get to kill this many or who gets the pick of trophies after. A fistfight had grown until half of the war band had been trying to kill the other half. But, she and the war chief had finally gotten his soldiers under control, and only after five fatalities.

Note to self, she thought, enslave their will then send charging into battle.

"Remember do not harm or kill those in black or silver armor," she ordered. "Follow their orders, and you shall be rewarded."

"Jeehd-ay burn!"

And off they went, charging towards the prison/fortress and flowing into the gaps created by the Sith Legion attack. Rubbing her temples, she followed at a slow walk with the full intention of studying how they conducted such an attack, her hopes weren't high, and whether or not they could be a useful asset for the Sith once the mission here was done. In their current form, she highly doubted it.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Objective: Free [member="Darth Isolda"]
Location: Alliance Prison Fortress
Friends: [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Pythia"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Lassiter"] | [member="Darth Helios"]
Enemies: [member="Azala Kyse"] | [member="Sav Elko"] | [member="Logan Wulf"] | [member="Myk Venture"]

The Chief Warden gasped and writhed on the floor of the command center, his fingers clutching uselessly at his throat; trying to alleviate the insurmountable pressure that was crushing his windpipe and cutting off his air. His eyes bulged out of his head, his face turning sickly purple as his legs kicked uselessly at the ground. Blood trickled out from the corners of his mouth, his nose, and his eyes as the pressure steadily grew to the tipping point and his neck snapped in two with a horrifying wet crunch. The warden's body spasmed for several seconds, twitching and convulsing as the last vestiges of life rushed out of him before he finally lay still in a growing pool of his own blood.

A large boot stepped through the blood, a gargantuan hand reaching down to physically grasp the warden by the throat and lift him up into the air. The body was slammed onto the desk chest down, bare fingers caressing the back of the warden's head before they began to dig into the soft flesh, breaking through skull and brain until they latched onto the cerebellum. There was a moment of silence, and then the warden's body began to convulse again as his body was yanked up into a standing position (fingers still dug deep into his brain) and his eyes began to flutter wildly and his mouth sounding out incomprehensible words.

"Unlock the cells."

The body, seemingly moving on its own volution, raked its arms across the desk's control console as articulation and finer motor skills returned to the rejuvenated corpse. Several keystrokes later, and a new alarm would begin to wail throughout the facility. Simultaneously, the bulkheads of each individual cell would disengage from its locking mechanism and slowly swing open. However, one door would remain firmly closed and locked behind a pair of biometric scanners. One was tied to the warden that was now serving as a meat puppet, and the other was linked to the quartermaster of the prison who had holed himself up in the armory.

They would need him too.

"Show me to the armory."

The meat puppet's right arm would fly up, his index finger outstretched in the direction of the door they entered through. The direction of his finger would change when they needed to turn a corner or go through another room, guiding them to exactly where they needed to go. It wouldn't be long now...

Wouldn't be long before the Emperor freed her.

 

[Isar Kislo]

Objective: Hinder the Jailbreak
Location: Approaching Alliance Prison Fortress
Allies: [member="Loske Matson"]
Enemies: TBD

Glacier-blue eyes that were about as naturally obtained as any other facet of the young clone’s being gazed out the forward viewport of the nondescript transport. They had been fortunate that the battle raging over Tython began in earnest some time ago. The cacophony of vessels literring Tython’s orbit made it easy enough for the small force carrying Isar and his sister Loske to skip through misty undisturbed.

”Blue we’re approaching the initial point for approach to insertion.” ‘Blue’ was an abbreviated version of his sister’s full call sign. It was a monicker that she’d earned after basically almost killing her own squad mates. It was a reality that Isar never really allowed his older sister to forget.

No sooner has Isar made the com call than an errant blast of anti-aircraft fire exploded just off the nose of Isar’s transport. Shit. ”Screw it. These transponder codes aren’t going to mean a damn thing. We’re going nap-of-the-earth now.” The transport that Isar was piloting aggressively rolled inverted and began diving for the ground the second the words had left the Rogue Jedi’s lips.

As was typical, Isar’s heartbeat barely increased as he mitigated the control surfaces and thrust to the sublight drive to keep the transport from being structurally overstressed. Like he’d flown head-on into anti-aircraft fire countless times before. A confidence that had been implanted, not developed.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Objective: Hinder the Jailbreak
Location: Approaching Alliance Prison Fortress
Allies: [member="Isar Kislo"] / @Tython Command / Some Kiffar and NabooNPC dudes
Enemies: TBD
Theme: https://open.spotify.com/track/78lgmZwycJ3nzsdgmPPGNx?si=OcpHNf4SS4iiDGPSAG1FxQ

The point of insertion.

“That’s what she said.”​

Came the quip, swiftly followed by: “I’m definitely going to puke.” Loske confirmed to both her self-dubbed-parental-figure astromech and her brother on their shared channel. It had been a really long time since she was exposed to this much of The Force at one time, and beneath her harness her stomach was beginning to churn. There was a lot of midichlorian tumult here - the struggle of dark and light and all that. All she felt was grey and gross and really queasy. She should look into alchemy or something to settle that… she knew a guy.

Her lips tucked together as she closed her eyes, forcing a hard swallow to suppress the gurgling in her stomach. If only this test tube baby had a few more tweaks, she might be able to operate like a normal human instead of being such a delicate flower around this much death and metaphysical manipulation.

She twisted in her seat to attempt to look through the side of her cockpit.

“And nobody ever thinks about doing things cleanly. It’s always so explosive and so many debris,” the flygirl tsk’ed, more to herself than anything. Which was ironic - considering her job was literally to blow things out of the sky. She was surprised there was no defence in orbit to prevent The Exiles from sending in backup - there were a few bogies inside the atmosphere, and Loske’s radar picked up a few right away. She switched channels.

“Few bogies in the sky, everyone hold on. We’ll try to keep this as nice and clear for you as we can, but suggested the seatbelt light stay on and you refrain from using the lavatory. Thank you and enjoy the rest of your flight.”

The Kiffar squad that had volunteered to assist weren’t humorous, and would only appreciate the update. Maybe the squad from House Veruna would be more appreciative of her commentary.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

"Enforcement and corrections are like two different worlds. Badges like me tend to think we're hot krayt spit, we track the bad guys down, we put the bad guys away. All a CO has to do is keep em there. Its easy to forget just how thin that blue line can be, and the risk these boys take on the regular. When the prison doors swooshed open all around us, all I could think was how brave a body would have to be to stand this kinda watch..."​

Mykas Venture Memlogs, 851 ABY​

​

"Alright, on three," Myk leaned back, digging uncomfortably into the corner wall behind him, "Flash out, then we storm em."

The CorSec Inspector held a flash grenade in his hands, hoisted from the bandolier of the nearest Tactical Response commando. He had managed to get as far as two before alarms all over the prison drowned out his voice, and all down the cell block corridor behind them prison hatches slid open remotely. With his enhanced artificial reflexes, Venture was the first to respond. Swinging his scattergun around, he scowled and let it clatter to the floor.

A berserk Sith prisoner was charging him, every human impulse would have screamed at him to fire, but Myk was a sworn law enforcement officer and he wasn't about to gun down escaped convicts in cold blood if he could help it. Drawing his CDEF blaster and toggling its stun setting in one fluid motion, he let off shot after precise shot. The Sith anticipated the first two, but Inspector Venture compensated for evasive acrobatics far quicker than any human should be capable of.

His third shot splashed off his quarry's center mass, and just to be sure he emptied a few more stun bolts into the writhing body.

The rest of his team had acquitted themselves admirably, although not every commando had been given enough time to switch over to non-lethal ordinance. It was a shame, but given a choice between cons and his boys CorSec procedure was clear.

"Three!" he shouted, and bounced a now activated flash grenade around the corner.

Scooping up his fallen scattergun, Myk's first shot as he charged the command center caught both Sith Imperial Legionnaires dispatched to check out the commotion behind them in its destructive cone. He kept running, clearing his weapon's chamber and loading another shell with a one handed pump. His Tactical Response Team was not far behind, and between them they cut through the remaining half-blinded Sith Imperial forces down with trained efficiency.

"Clear!"

"Clear!" Venture hollered back, surveying the command center in confusion and frustration, "We missed em. Most of em, anyway."

Leaning down to check the pulse of a fallen Tython security officer, he shook his head after feeling no signs of life.

"I don't see any sign of the Warden," he noticed after taking a quick inventory of bodies, "Anything over there?"

"I've got him here, Inspector."

"Where?" Myk asked, tilting his head until he noticed the commando pointing at a holocam feed. His very presence seemed to distort the image feed as he passed, but in the captured warden's wake the Emperor of the Sith followed, "Ah, hell. See if our ident codes still work, let's lock down some of these cell block bulkheads."

It wouldn't be nearly enough to stop them, but if they could lock down available avenues to [member="Darth Carnifex"], it would slow the Dark Lord from reaching his endgame, whatever that may be. They would have to waste valuable time either detonating the bulkheads with charges or cutting through with lightsabers. The prisoners were another story, but given the presence of one of the most powerful space wizards in the known galaxy, Myk sensed his priorities had probably better shift.

"Where are you headed, Your Worshipfulness?" the Corellian asked himself, furrowing his brow while he followed Zambrano from holofeed to holofeed. Tython's prisoners were now free, and yet the main force of Legionnaires seemed to be following their master deeper into the complex, not back outside.

[member="Azala Kyse"] | [member="Logan Wulf"] | [member="Sav Elko"] | [member="Isar Kislo"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Joycelyn Zambrano"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Pythia"] | [member="Lassiter"] | [member="Darth Helios"]​

 

[Kida Tillian]

They had come at last to the sacred home of the Jedi, to which Talanis had fled after the destruction of the New Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Here, he had sought shelter, healing, wisdom, and purpose. All of these were things that he had found, but only for a moment, as they came once more, hammering and annihilating the prison. The man could see it from here, where he stood perched. Smoke and plasma fire lit up the distance as it was overrun.

So the Dark overran the Light. No, that wasn't right. He had seen it in his vision. The Light drained itself of strength, of resolve, and of its truest purpose. In that, it was weakened, and collapsed beneath its own weakness from the slightest push of the Dark. This was something that he could not permit. Yet, he was no fool. While there were those who believed a Jedi was supposed to face the Lords of the Dark and all their armies with a lightsaber and single-handedly bring them down. How great the legend of the Jedi had grown, compared to their true strength. Talanis knew that would never be the case. He had seen too many wars that cut down the Jedi for that to be true.

He was no longer a fool.

"Lord Talanis, what should we do?" His squire, a young Zabrak apprentice, looked up at him, resolve in his eyes.

"For the moment," Talanis responded slowly, his voice deep and low, "Nothing. We must rally our forces and create a strategy." With that, he turned and strode into the wooded hillside, leaving the burning prison to fade into the distance. Behind him, a small group of Jedi and ex-GADF soldiers straggled along behind him, faces torn as they abandoned the citadel to its fate.