You Die, Or I Do. (Invite Only.)

[Jacen Cavill]

[member="Darron Wraith"]

Deadly sight was quite the ability, and one very unique to Darth Kryptus. It wasn't the normal, run-of-the-mill Sith lightning that was overly abused by his peers. This was an expression of hatred and malice in it's purest form. It took the phrase, if looks could kill, to a whole new level. Only those with the innate ability to truly tap into their rage could do it, and it took a special kind of courage to do so. Most Sith were held back by fear, mainly by the fear of what they would become. Kryptus couldn't count how many of his supposed "brethren" shared that flaw. How many apprentices have I tried to teach this gift to? It was a rhetorical question, because none could embrace their hate enough to let the energy flow forth like that. Cavill himself had no issue with that, so the beams of hatred fired right at their intended target. "I will have your head by the end of this day," he said as the beams were just about to make contact. His actual words lost in the screeching sound of the blast as the heat made it's way to Darron Wraith.

Only it didn't hit him, blinding light was blocking his blast. Jacen's feet planted, and his grip on Daesumnor only tightened as their blasts worked against each other. Pulling deep from the never ending well of rage within, he let all his feelings for the Jedi order spew forth. His power only intensified, thanks to the dose of Sith Poison he had taken before their battle. Thanks to [member="Valik"]'s upgrades, the overdose only intensified as his mutated adrenal glands fired. More poison flooded his veins, but his hatred was being beaten back by the Jedi before him.

Until, he was literally blinded by the light.

His eyes closed as he stepped back, the shockwave from their energies washing over him. "It ends here, Sith." Those words caught his attention as the Jedi Master stood up valiantly and launched a charge towards him, victory in his eyes. As soon as they were in close range, a scuffle erupted, though no blades made contact. Echani training, fueled by his Force-enhanced senses took over. For every powerful strike, Wraith came back with a counter he didn't expect. Experience was the deciding factor here as the Jedi allowed himself to be filled with the Force, which only fueled the Sith poison in his veins to increase his own rage. Seconds passed by in a blur as their melee took over, until a resounding blow struck his ribs.

"AH," he screamed in surprise as he felt his bones break in his ribs. The still forming bone was nothing against that concentrated strike, and Kryptus mentally kicked himself for striking while his body was still in transition. Another strike was aimed at him, and he went to block it before he heard a snap-hiss as pain shot though his body. Looking down, sweat poured from his face under the mask of Nihlus as he looked down to see the amethyst blade piercing his torso. Fear started to flood his veins, until the Sith poison took over. Blinded by rage momentarily, he immediately grabbed Darron's durasteel hand with his left, open hand. Strength flooded his grip as the new power took over, and the prosthesis bent in and snapped like a mere twig in his grasp. The lightsaber deactivated, and the pain ceased momentarily as he saw shock flood his opponents eyes.

Kryptus hadn't let go of the Jedi Master, and a sick laugh laced his words. "You're right Jedi, this does."

In a blur of motion, Daesumnor went above the Jedi and was brought down, it's tempered blade cleaving straight through the Jedi's right shoulder and separating his arm from his body. Pain and shock crossed the Jedi's face, until Jacen brought his boot up and launched the Jedi nearly twenty meters away with the power of his boot. Looking down at the grim trophy still in his hand, he dropped Wraith's ruined prosthesis and what remained of that arm. Blood lust filled Kryptus' eyes as he marched towards his opponent while pulling his duster back to him. Sliding it back on as he crossed the distance, he spun the blade in his hands as he prepared the show the galaxy what had happened...

 

[Darron Wraith]

[member="Jacen Cavill"]

His blade had found home, amid all the chaos he had struck the Sith right in his torso. Relief flooded his body, washing over him like the afternoon sun. Whatever tension that had filled him suddenly left, his muscles relaxing as triumph flooded his heart. Blue eyes met red, and he could see the pain and anguish looking back at him. Time froze again, and the little sounds where what caught his attention in the moment. His own breathing, and how strained it was. Darron could pick up the high, wheezing tones that let him know his ribs were broken. Across from him, he could hear the tell-tell sign from his opponent, then he heard the dirt beneath them shift as their feet moved. That familiar humming sound of his lightsaber rang true in his ears, and then he caught the sound of the Sith's armor plating hit each other as he slumped slightly. In that moment all of the Force was open to him, and he realized that his visions had only been a forewarning about this battle. I was a fool, this wasn't about my death. This was merely about having to face this darkness and overcome it. Too long had he been haunted by his own emotions and his failures, and here he stood triumphant, the darkness around him falling away.

[member="Kiskla Grayson"] crossed his mind once more, and he thought of all the things he would tell her when he returned to the Order with his prisoner. "I'm going to remove this slowly okay, and then I'm going to arrest you. Don't move, and I won't have to hurt you further." Comfort laced his words, almost as if he was trying to soothe the man who had tried to kill him. Purity filled his spirit, and true joy started to take over as the moment crystallized. Light emanated from his skin, and for that moment he was truly a luminescent being free from all worldly matters that would trouble someone. Everything in his life had led to this moment, and he was going to do everything he could when he got back to make things right and finally assert himself as the Jedi he should have always been.

The problem with moments was that they were finite, and Darron's had just ended.

Darkness flooded his senses as a hand moved with impossible speed and gripped his durasteel forearm. Everything slowed down to a crawl, but his reaction time didn't speed up as it usually would have. The hairs on the back of his neck never once stood up, and his precognition gave him no such answers on what was about to happen. All he managed to do in that short span of time was to look down, and watch as his prosthesis was crushed like it was made from tin. The sensors in it flared up, sending pain messages to his shoulder and in the span of time it took him to make eye contact with the Sith, light reflected into his eyes as his Force senses failed him. What happened next sent more pain through his body than he had ever felt, and he immediately went into shock.

Alchemized metal sliced through him, painting the ground in gore from his now maimed shoulder and arm, and a boot crashed so hard into his chest that he felt his sternum break as he once more went airborne and flew through the air. Time didn't freeze for him in this moment, and he started to flip before gravity brought him crashing down face-first into the ground. Flirting with consciousness, he had to turn his head to breath. Dirt and blood mixed as he coughed up more of the same coppery fluid. His body started to involuntarily convulse, and there was no way he could access any of his powers to help him out. There was no sphere of responsibility, no precognition, no shatterpoint, or any of the various abilities he had used to defend himself over the years. All he could do was focus on the darkness that was marching towards him, and on the lightsaber that was in his hand....that was nearly forty meters away.

That same invisible hand reached around Mace's hilt, even as sparks from his destroyed prosthesis flew everywhere. Reaching further into himself than he ever had, he snatched the hilt from it and activated the blade. The amethyst saber started to spin as it flew towards the man who was about to kill him, and Darron could only hope even as his own body started to fail him...

 

[Jacen Cavill]

[member="Rosa Gunn"] [member="Kiskla Grayson"] @Je'gan Olr'aen [member="Ashin Varanin"] [member="Spencer Jacobs"] [member="Jaxton Ravos"] [member="Mikhail Shorn"] [member="Darth Janus"] [member="Valik"] [member="Seydon of Arda"] [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] [member="Popo"] [member="Erinyes Draclau"] [member="Rave Merrill"] [member="Jorus Merrill"]

Sith poison flooded his veins as hubris and rage mixed inside the furnace he had for a heart, that said furnace converting it all to rage. His breathing was ragged, and the smell of blood and burn flesh filled his nostrils. Everything he wore was weighing him down, but he could barely feel it thanks to the supernatural strength he now possessed. In the dark recesses of his mind he made a note to thank Valik and Rave for their gifts. Without them this wouldn't have been possible, even if neither of them had the mettle to fight the man he had just conquered. Triumph flooded his veins, making what was weak stronger as his imminent victory became more and more real with each step. Heavy durasteel boots slowly crossed the distance, Kryptus making sure to take his time to savor this. "She thought I couldn't do it," he whispered under his breath as he pressed onward to the broken and maimed man who was trying with all of his might to look up at him. "She was wrong, and I'll make sure to remind her of that." The monster within whispered further promises of power now that his altered form had held up so well against such a warrior. Just imagine what you can do now Kryptus, there is no limit to your ability.

The sound of a spinning lightsaber blade filled his ears, and in a blur of motion he reacted.

His grip on Daesumnor changed to a reverse one as he thrust the blade directly into the ground, before facing the purple beam of energy. Kreshh's gauntlet finally flared up, and a beam of energy struck the blade. The force of the blast knocked the hilt to the ground, and he immediately bent down and picked it up. "That's enough out of you Wraith." Clipping the hilt to his belt, he pressed a button calling the video-drone to him. "I promised you I would hurt you in ways you never had been before, well now let me show you I'm a man of my word about breaking you." Reaching down to the Jedi Master, he grabbed him by his long blonde, blood-stained hair and picked him up in one hand. Cavill grabbed the man's legs and raised him above his shoulders, his sickly eyes staring right at the man's back as he held him there for a moment...then he dropped him to his knee.

CRACK!

"AHHHHH!!!"

The two sounds were followed by the man falling in a heap, cries of pain escaped his lips as the man just lay there. "What's wrong Darron?" Another cry of pain escaped the Jedi Master's lips as a swift kick was delivered towards the man's head. "I would kick you lower but I don't think you'd feel it." A familiar beeping tone filled his ears as he looked up to see that the droid had arrived and was waiting for him to give the signal. Taking the time to adjust the Mask of Nihlus, he pulled the hood of his duster over his head to mask all of his features. Reaching down, he grabbed the Jedi Master by his hair and pulled him up to his knees as the Sith Lord squatted down behind him. Pulling Mace Windu's lightsaber hilt off of his belt he made sure to keep the emitter visible on camera and pointed directly at the Jedi's rib cage. Kryptus gave the signal, and the droid accessed the satellite on the Sion, before sending it's signal all over the holonet. Every television screen would soon show what had happened on Cato Neimodia, and they would know that there was something much more vicious out there than the petty Sith they had witnessed.

The Jedi Temple-Ossus

"Hey, change the channel I don't want to watch the new," said the Twi'lek. "Okay, I'll try to find something better to watch than those silly reality shows they are always started up." The young human padawan went to change the channel just as something flashed across the screen.

//SIGNAL INTERRUPTED//​

The visage of Darth Nihlus could be seen on the screens across the galaxy, the face of a bloody Jedi Master next to his. Pain could clearly be seen on the Jedi's face, and he looked near death as it was. "Greetings Jedi of the galaxy and all governments who shield them. Who I am is unimportant, but my message is not." He pulled the man's hair back more, causing another grimace of pain to cross his face as the view panned back to reveal he was losing blood from a lack of an arm. "Before you is the former GrandMaster of the Jedi Order, his name is Darron Wraith. He fought valiantly for the Republic, and epitomized what all Jedi stood for." The Jedi's face was turning paler and paler by the second as he lost more blood, and those who saw the screen noted the awkward angle that his legs were at, and how his torso didn't appear to be in one whole piece like it should be.

"This is a warning, there are powers far beyond anything you know of at work. I represent those powers, and all Jedi will be hunted down. We don't care if you work for the Republic, for the Silver Jedi, or for the Sanctum. Your time has come to an end, and any government who supports you will face the same reckoning." Kryptus slid the hilt behind the Jedi's back, slowly for everyone to see on camera. The emitter pressed further into the broken man's ruined back, and he held it there for a moment. "This man is merely the first in what will happen with great frequency." His thumb hit the activation plate, and that snap-hiss sound echoed on the microphone as the amethyst blade pieced the Jedi's heart on camera. Kryptus deactivated the blade as the life left the man's eyes, and he let his corpse fall to the ground.

"You have been warned."

//TRANSMISSION ENDED//​

The droid's signal ended, and he gathered the Jedi's body and possessions before leaving Cato Neimodia. Cavill's crew took the Sion, while the Sith Lord himself piloted the Jedi Master's ship into unknown space after destroying all the tracking systems it had...

 

[The Spark]

LOCATION: En-Route to Yavin IV, onboard the Freighter "Destiny"
OBJECTIVE: Be subjected to a tormenting transmission.


Aaralyn stared blankly at the transmission from the Crew Quarters of her ship en-route to Yavin IV.

She didn't know what to feel, how to feel. It was a numb sensation that overcame her. There was no fear of what [member="Jacen Cavill"] spoke of, she feared nothing. It was a glimmering edge of anger that pressed at her very core. All she could do was fumble for the controls to shut the transmission off and move to a different part of the ship, to contemplate her next move.

A sense of sorrow washed over her. No one should die such a death, no one.

 

[Darron Wraith]

Rosa Gunn Kiskla Grayson @Je'gan Olr'aen Ashin Varanin Spencer Jacobs Jaxton Ravos Mikhail Shorn Darth Janus Valik Seydon of Arda Thurion Heavenshield Aaralyn RekaliPopo Erinyes Draclau Rave Merrill Jorus Merrill

CRACK!

"AHHH!!"

The Force didn't come to his aid this time, in face all he could feel was well....nothing.

Laying there, shock started to take over his body. Words meant nothing, and the next few moments flew by as he was kicked and moved around like a puppet. The presence of the holo-droid or the Sith Lord primping himself before he put on a show for the galaxy meant nothing for the Jedi Master. All of his physical wounds meant nothing to him as he just was moved around, and he stopped paying attention to the pain. I have truly failed, he thought to himself as the Sith spoke his words to the camera. His body forever maimed and crippled, he didn't struggle as he was used as a trophy for the Sith. So many times had he beaten his foes, that the whole encounter felt foreign to him. The longer it went out, the more and more disconnected he felt from his body as the loss of blood and the increased beating of his heart brought him closer and closer to death. Each second pulled him further and further from the land of the living, even as his physical form still responded to the stimulus of pain on camera for trillions of beings to see.

Wraith didn't focus on any of it though, he was hallucinating. Suddenly it wasn't just him standing there alone, in pain, being used as a trophy. Echoes of footsteps reached his ears as he looked around with his eyes, his neck no longer responding to the commands he was issuing. Before him stood friends, allies of the past. His parents were nodding approvingly at him, and he could see the pride and sadness in their eyes. Rolf Sergeo was visible at the front of the group, along with his former lover, Maria whom he had had Tobias with. Bethany Kismet and Sky Kerberos were also present, as was his former masters. Quel-Jinn Lorn, Joni-Wan Techu, and Teferi Efreet all appeared before him, and they all bowed out of respect for the man that would be joining them soon.

So is this what it feels like? His mind was racing with thoughts as he noticed more and more appearing in their ethereal forms.

Looking around, even as he heard the Sith speaking of threats behind him, he could see all those he had defeated in battle. Their rage and anger was still present, but respect was written on their faces. "I'm coming to join you brothers, thank you for guiding me home."What he didn't realize was that his words were only thoughts, he couldn't speak anymore. Then a single figure, brighter than all of them joined the group and cupped his face with her hands. She was completely unseen, but her beauty was unmistakable. Her brown eyes met his sky-blue, and tears began to stream down his face as he realized just what this all meant finally. There would be no more fighting, no more struggle between his duty and the ones he loved. All the conflict he had faced was about to be done with, and he would be set free.

Most of all, he got to see his daughter finally.

"Dad, come home. Please, your work is done."

Wraith relaxed as the emitter pressed into his back, and he knew what was coming next. The man who had been raised to be a Jedi Consular, but had been put into slavery had made something of himself. All of his struggles with the darkside, and all of his losses had only fueled him to become the man he was right then. That he had become the Jedi's greatest warrior while being a man of peace spoke to his character. Every battle had been about what he could do for others, and because of it he had become the shining epitome of what Jedi should be.

Then the amethyst blade snapped to life, and he was nothing.

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1pjdUtgeLMk​

Laekia
Apartments

Sat on the floor next to his adopted daughter Nina, Thurion watched as she drew her picture of him and her holding hands. He smiled at her tiny hands handling the pencils with somewhat clumsy movements, as all children would at 4 years of age. He didn't know why, but for a brief moment he could feel that something was wrong. It just didn't feel right. Then a wave of sorrow washed over him as he recognised the feeling; another great hero had fallen. He couldn't figure out who the Force signature belonged to, because he had never met the person before in his life, but still he felt life turn into death. For this reason he pulled little Nina close to him to sit on his lap just as he wrapped his arms around her. She didn't mind at all, and even responded by doing the same. Neither required a reason for embracing eachother. A kiss was placed on her soft forehead and she let out a small giggle as her father's beard tickled her skin.

"Go to her..." he whispered for no-one to hear.

[member="Darron Wraith"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Annaj, Fringe Capital
8:43pm


Walking down the hallways of the old Temple, one before the Sith had destroyed it in their conquest against the Republic. This was the Temple that she had grown up in, one that she knew better than any place that had existed before. She obviously knew this was a dream, but she followed the sequence through. A door opened and she was standing in an office she had only been in twice while she was in the Temple. The feeling was familiar and she sat down then realized this wasn't a dream, it was a memory. Looking down she noticed the padawan tunic she wore – it was stained with soot and other gunk from the planets she had ventured to with the Empress of the Sith. Hazel eyes trailed from her hands to the man before her, his size was exaggerated in the memory and despite his words, his face was kind.

My intent is to save you from yourself and from Republic justice. You will make an amazing Jedi one day, but it seems this lesson is one that you have to learn on your own young one, and I intend to let you do just that.​

What he asked of her that day was quick and his attempt to save her, but she didn't need saving. What he had done had saved her already. Forcing her to make a choice to stay with the Republic and spy on someone she cared about or to leave entirely – she grew up in that moment and since then she forever followed her heart. The memory faded and another warped into existence, once more she was in his office a mask rested on her lap as she stared out of him from experienced eyes. She needed his assistance. What he taught her, the emotional control was the reason she was alive still to this day. The emotional control she learned from the Grand Master Jedi was the base of her entire skill set – without it she could be rendered helpless with an overdose of emotion.

He was why she was alive still after facing Anaya Fen.

Keep your compassion, keep that love for all life Spencer.​

Lifting her head up from her desk she looked around and watched as the image on the holoscreen she was watching flicker and an image of a masked man. She could feel the darkside between the distance between them. It took her a moment to stand and walked towards the screen, the monster's words cut through the silence of her room. Wide eyes, she watched as he held Darron Wraith, was this why she dreamed about him? The man was broken and beaten, the life escaping his eyes, he wasn't the same enormous figure that was in her memories – he was just a man. The video feed shifted towards his face and Spencer reached out running her fingers gently against his face as if she could provide some comfort in his time of need. She remembered on Roche where he laid wanting to die, Ashin was with him and Spencer did her best to try and save them both. In that moment, he gave Spencer once again the gift she could never return. A part of her was overjoyed that he had lived past Roche, but she knew it came with the price of his child and his relationship with Rosa. For just a moment, Spencer thought of Rosa and hoped she wasn't watching. Even though the woman had moved on, Spencer knew that there was a place for the Master in the woman's heart – there were just some feelings you couldn't forget.

Her eyes never leaving the screen, Spencer felt tears building she wanted to look away to forget what she was watching and return to her work. She had no clue where they were or even if she could get there in time. He had saved her life so many times and now in his time of need she couldn't do anything. The brief transmission felt as if it ran through a lifetime very slowly even though she knew the end she waited, holding her breath. The haunting sound of the lightsaber coming to life, just to end a life echoed her ears. It was a sound she would never be able to listen to again, every time she heard it from now on it would only remind her of the pain that she felt in that brief moment. His life was taken and she couldn't scream or cry. The transmission cut out and she was left with one of Ibaris' children shows playing in front of her. A hand slid down the slick panel and her finger pressed the button off. Staring at the blank screen she tried to let it all sink in, it had only taken a few moments but as quickly as the screen shut off the holoscreen collapsed on its self. The Master lost control for a moment every feeling she had echoed through the force and several objects were crushed by the Force in her office. Vases shattered, pictures flung across the room, and her desk slammed against the wall. Silence took over the office once more and it was her turn to collapse. Falling to her knees, tears streamed down her face as she cried out. Another figure in her life was gone, there was no saving, how could Ashin call her a chosen one if the people she loved, she couldn't save. Closing her eyes, she saw a face and a familiar feeling surrounded it. The image hung in her memory as she remembered a sudden kiss as she was dropped off at a space station.

Tying the memory and the feeling she had about the face she knew exactly who the masked figure was. A storm brewed over Annaj one that hadn't been seen since she had invaded the Atrisians, a storm that the Master had only controlled with the help of another. Rain and thunder echoed over the Fringe capital. There was a chaotic calm that washed over the small office of Spencer Jacobs. Mascara stained and enlighted, she stared into the distance a name escaped her lips as she whispered softly to herself.

[member="Jacen Cavill"]​

Standing, she pulled her robe around her and reached out with her hand a lightsaber flew from her shattered desk to her hand.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Tython
​

The message touched all frequencies, and as usual, it was intercepted by Kiskla. Whether or not she was in her seat as Grandmaster or not, this would be something she would respond to.

When [member="Darron Wraith"] screamed, she felt hollow and couldn’t prevent her hands flying upward to cover her mouth in horror. What a sick broadcast.

Immediately, she severed the connection and lowered her eyes. Her face met her palms and Kiskla inhaled deeply, shaking as she steadied her breath. Darron had been one of her best friends, and if their timing had been more opportune perhaps they could have explored more. To see someone who had elevated himself as a hero to so many, rendered paralyzed on public broadcast made her stomach twist with an agonizing sickness. She had fought that brute before, on Aeten II — and she felt strange having survived when Darron didn’t. The circumstances had been separate.

She ran her hands across her face and swallowed deeply, opening a frequency to the same channels that The Order had already open — a followup to what they had seen.

“Fellow Jedi,” The blonde began. “This threat is not one to remain ignorant of, nor to be overconfident towards. The Jedi have faces many opponents in the past.

We always have, and we always will.

Take inspiration from those in the past, those that built the foundations of The Order. Take inspiration from your brothers and sisters around you, that fight each day to overcome their various tribulations. This shall be no different.

We will meet this one with the same resilient bravery as all others before him. I would, however, like to take this time with your attention to reinforce the importance of camaraderie.

I don’t want any Padawans venturing into the galaxy alone. Travel with your fellow students and masters.

And if anyone has any concerns about this threat, if you’re feeling anything that makes you worried about yourself and your ability to maintain control, myself and The Council have open doors for discussion.

May The Force be With You.”

The Grandmaster ended the message with the typical cliché and drew the projection to a close. She sat there for a moment, numb. Master Grayson had reached out to the other Jedi of the galaxy, and had been disheartened from the lack of response. She didn’t want this killer to be the catalyst for unification — were they all so stubborn to not do it on their own accord, that they needed a brute to be their sheepdog?

And poor Darron — he had confided in her that he was seeing his demise, and she hadn’t taken him seriously. She rarely took anything seriously, but this, she should have known better. Although it was beyond her control, the Kiffar felt slightly responsible for the ultimatum. Not that she could have put him under house arrest or anything — the outcome was truly beyond her control.

She rubbed her upper arms and looked out of the window at her view from the Tython quarters. Losing Darron was painful, although she’d not yet quite come to terms with it. She’d taken him for granted, as she often did with everything. It wasn’t her youth that made her ignorant of the preciousness and delicate state of life — it was her feeling of immortality.
Her slender fingers traced along the bracer on her right arm, opening a personal line for communication and directed a single message of concern to one flying solo in space. Like Darron, she couldn’t put this one under house arrest either.

Whether or not [member="Marcello Matteo"] had seen the broadcast, the message was general enough to be applied to all circumstances; especially since in his exiled state she had no clue what he was doing, or where he was doing it. She just knew he was isolated by his own accord, and potentially vulnerable: Be safe out there.

 

[Lord Ghoul]

A dark haired man stranded on Dathomir paused in his labor on the farm, frowning in consternation. Ice-blue eyes peered up into the skies. That feeling.... a mind had touched his. He felt like he should remember it. In that mind he felt nobility, virtue, and all the things that people strive toward. In that mind, he felt peace. The frown deepened.

"I should know him. I do know him how-"

The life faded away, like waves receding from the shore. Vanishing not all at once, nor in pieces, but like the setting of the sun. An immense weight settled onto the man's shoulders as though he'd lost someone. That loss struck him to his knees. Tears tracked through the dirt on his face.

"Why?" was all he could mutter, over and over again. "Why?"

 

[Fen]

A red-haired Knight stared at a holoscreen, transfixed. Horror gripped Ryan Korr as he watched another one of his heroes at the mercy of a Sith.

"No," he whispered, voice choked, "This isn't happening."

Snap-Hiss!

Darron Wraith's body fell to the floor, smoke issuing from the hole in his chest.

Fingers balled into fists that trembled at Ryan's side. Grey eyes stared in disbelief at the body of the man he'd believed to be unkillable. The muscles in his jaw writhed as he clinched his teeth. Blood hammered in his head. His chest tightened and his stomach clinched. "What is this that I'm feeling? Shock? Horror? No..." His fists stopped shaking.

"Fury."

Power erupted from Ryan, surging across the room. The holoscreen shattered, a vase exploded, and Ryan made the room tremble at his anger. Nearby Jedi backed away, feeling the storm of darkness that came to life inside him.

At last he expended his energy and stood in the center of the room, panting. Sweat soaked his hair and ran down his chest. His mouth twisted into an expression of pain and he stalked out of the room. Alone... he needed to be... alone.

 

[Coci Heavenshield]

[member="Darron Wraith"]​

​

The Galaxy, even more chaotic then before sees the raise of a threat of danger, torment and war. The Sith regrouping and stretching out their gnarled hands to all parts of free space and engulfing each one in their path. The weight of this pressing down on all peoples who's duty it is to stop them, Jedi and non Jedi alike.

A sense of this gathered around Iella now, here on Voss the Temple stood a house for the Silver Jedi to prepare for it, be the best they can be and ready for the days to come. She stood up, suddenly feeling claustrophobic within the very walls that she loved, an urgent need to leave and find the solace of open space. Walking through the corridors, not stopping to greet anyone on her path, her face etched in thought and concern as the Force spoke to her in whispers, whispers not yet able to be deciphered.

Her feet took her to the side of the Temple and into the blooming orchard, the peach trees in bull bloom beautiful with the pale soft pink. Iella entered the avenue of trees, her eyes noting she is alone, she slowed her pace and listened to the Force. Ahead however, she sensed a gathering almost a quickening of time and space. A wind strong gathered in the branches of the peach trees and dislodged all the budding flowers, sending a wave of pink toward her. Her hand reached for her stomach and she rubbed as if in pain. Her mind set in confusion and fear as the wall of petal approached.

A large swirl of the Force wrapped around her, a sharp breath filled her lungs and she lurched forward, her hand reaching out for support that was not there, she stumbled and fell to her knees. "Darron", she whispered as softly as the wind that eddied around her. The Force is heavy this day, as she knew a great warrior had fallen, her heart ached for the loss of one Master steeped with much respect and valour. One that had taken the time to train her, oh so long ago, one she had kept her promise too.

"Morn him not, remember his legacy and celebrate a life full and learned.. Master Darron Wraith, May the Force be with you Always". Iella would spend the remainder of the day among the trees.

 

[Velok the Younger]

After Rave turned off the holoscreen, she sat there staring at it until the ice melted in her tumbler. At last she gulped down the watery, lukewarm Whyren's Reserve and stood. For the duration of the broadcast, she'd doused the lights in her office aboard the Apotropos. Old smuggler's habit, turning out lights when she could, though a drop in the bucket when she was on a ship whose reactor powered a stygium cloak and enough engine strength to move a solid beskar hull.

She poured herself another, without ice this time, and came back to the comm terminal. The transmission was short, heavily encrypted, and bounced through a thousand routes in pieces before reassembling itself at a final destination.

K-

Well handled. Thank you for your anonymity. I have a new objective for you, but this one will take something special. Nothing as straightforward as the last. Meet me at the usual place with the usual face, and I'll get you the file.

-R

[member="Jacen Cavill"]

 

[Rosa Gunn]

Rosa was trembling, pain racking her body before the transmission began. Fingers dug into the arms of the pilots chair as she reached through the bond she had with [member="Darron Wraith"]. She was utterly helpless, she could do nothing to help him, to ease his pain and that broke her heart. As the transmission flickered on the screen she lost awareness of herself drifting somewhere between the waves of light and dark as her eyes settled on Darron's face, contorted with pain. She recalled their conversation on Tython, she recalled her promise and the words of Elana. She knew he was going to die, she knew before he did, but never in a hundred cycles could she have imagined this death.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. No one deserved a death like this. Fire burnt in her chest as the lightsaber flickered to life punching through Darron's ribs. She felt him slip from life, she felt his calm as he reached to become one with the force. She couldn't breathe, on her feet she clutched at her chest. "Darron." A whisper, a plea, she reached for him but it was too late. The Rose groaned around her as pressure built up. The darkness in her heart cried out and spread through her veins flashing in her eyes as she let out a scream of anguish.

Silence greeted her as the transmission ended, her sobs echoing through the ships corridors. She sank back to her chair and there she stayed for at least an hour until her head was throbbing and her throat hurt from crying. Slowly she pulled what she could of herself back together. She'd made a promise. To find his son. But she made another promise now; to find his murderer. Ahnds moved to trace the origination of the transmission before she sent out a message.

Karcharias,

Darron is dead. Going hunting. Possible threat to home, requires elimination. Stay safe, I'll be in touch.

Ashla.

[member="Seydon of Arda"]