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  1. Today
  2. Vox nodded and turned to the direction of the shuttles ready to take off, in turn Krexis spoke in a calm and quiet manner, "PlanetSide? I don't expect they would have a currency we can use for supplies?" "Yeah! And what about our situation? Aren't we looking for a new home or something?" Varsus asked a little too loudly, not that it mattered since it was in the Nudono tongue. Vox sighed, placing his Puncture Rifle on the magnetic clamp used to holster it. Indeed, that thought came again but he knew it would take time... the Chieftain looked down at the still armored recruit and considered how to best answer. Varsus would ask questions nonstop unless snapped at but it was all for good reason, he and everyone else were worried of the current stance with their new... allies. Sure Vox and co. completed a minor mission or whatever was above minor, still he knew well they'd have to work to earn a full in trust and compliance from these Imperials. It was outside the realms of what the tribe was used to doing and they had no choice but to take chances: either suffocate or deal with outsiders. The Chieftain finally answered Varsus while unclipping his helmet and a hiss escaped as a sign of released oxygen, "Our situation is a temporary home and servicing these outsiders simple as that. And yes, we are here for a new home however we must fulfill our end of the deal in order to prove our worth, gain trust, and find a true partnership. We can't rush this process, in doing so would create skepticism and they would lose tolerance. For now, the ball is in our hands, we best not drop it." Varsus was ready to ask a question as he took removed his helm but the still covered Krexis thumped the recruits side, shaking his head as a warning to not push any further. Varsus exhaled a little loudly out of frustration, Krexis removed his helmet as well to show the snow white scales he possessed. The two followed their leader as they boarded on the shuttles ready for takeoff, Krexis still waiting for an answer as Vox sat down. As far as the white Trandoshan knew Vox was contemplating and he sat down next to his leader, leaning back into the metal wall of the ship to help relax his nerves. "We'll have to," Vox finally answered after the ship made a jerk taking off, "I'll need to find our current commander but I'll see what I can do. Mythant I think his name was." Krexis relaxed at that answer, knowing his Chieftain always came through despite the recent losses. For the three soldiers, this small mission helped ease their minds as failures, the sniper and recruit took a brunt of their own blames as there were no right decisions in the lives they lost... only seven total remained. First was leaving, more than seventy percent of the tribe left with Vox, including the seven survivors that were present. Then came the hijacking of a Black Cloak warship, tracked down a day later and the Black Cloaks ships were defeated, but the Trandoshans crashed from unexpected damage on an ice world losing more than ninety percent of the tribe not to the ships landing, but to the frigid cold. These times were dire. Vox closed his eyes as to ease his mind, focus his thoughts and goals, what to do from here on out. "R&R," Wasn't exactly a word he knew but it seems to relate to rest from what he could gather. Maybe. His eyes opened however with a roll as Varsus began to talk, not exactly sure what it was, but he spoke in of course questions. He sat up properly from a slump and turned to the young Trandoshan who was up with a helmet in hand. "So... are you up yet?" Varsus asked impatiently. What? Vox only closed his eyes for a second or so he thought. Krexis reached out with a hand and helped his leader up, and there it was, a sudden shift from awake to near sleep and fatigue. His body felt tore and began to pulsate in pain in certain areas. Standing up was sending jolts of aching down his spine, alas Vox remained standing as he made his way out of the shuttle. The area was clearly city, more of a "poor side" if such a thing existed much like a slums except this was more acceptable, they were right outside a simple Imperial building used as a station for deliveries and troop assignment for recruit from the area. As the trio stepped out of the shuttle they were given odd looks by Imperials and passerbys alike, individuals wondering about why there were Trandoshans here and why on God's earth they wore odd attire. The Chieftain walked away from the building as well as his company and started down a street until he spotted one of his soldiers sitting outside sharpening the blade of his Puncture. He was in no more than a loincloth, deep blue and brown scales covered his body in blotches with small strips of yellow spotting his scales. He looked up and gave a nod to Vox who replied with, "Get some clothes on you heathen." "I'm going to look for Mython, you stay here and rest." Vox stated to Krexis and Varsus giving them his helmet. Regardless of his armor and openly carrying weapons, Vox had no worries of how he looked as long as people strayed from his path. As he walked, the Chieftain went from the simple and lesser side of the city to the better and prettier within thirty minutes. Gazing at the sights, looking at the different shops from jewelry to simple items were quite interesting but when a certain smell hot him Vox couldn't help but follow it. Different smells, cooked foods of many kinds were scattered between restaraunts of various names. His Common wasn't great, Vox opted to use Traditional Trandoshan as that was the closest he could get to a fluent language. Looking at each sign and name, colors and sizes, Vox wasn't sure with what to do until he saw a familiar face. "Mythis," Vox said to himself as he entered the 'Taste of Alderaan,' unaware whether it was a reserved or whether there was a line he simply waltzed in clear on his mindset. @Mythos
  3. Yesterday
  4. As Mythos felt the shuttle land, he removed his arm and stood up, stretching his gigantic form as he did, his fur ruffling in response. He had caught a brief amount of sleep on the ride down, and while it may not have been enough, it would sustain him until he could properly catch up. Looking around for the apparitions and seeing none, he disembarked. Just as he turned and started making his way to the medical ward, he smelt the approach of two Imperial Knights, the littlest of the two finishing it. Personally, he'd rather steer clear of the Imperial personnel as much as he could. But given the recent mission and Admiral Slaughter's own attempt to find a middle ground with them, he figured what harm could come of it. "Sure little one." He spoke, leaning his gaze down toward her as his eyes shifted toward her compatriot. "I suppose a bite to eat before our debriefing wouldn't hurt." Nor would it hurt to show the others the means of narrowing the gap between former Alliance members who still held grudges toward their Imperial counterparts now that the Rebel Alliance was beginning to come to fruition. He needed to set an example if this Alliance was going to truly work. Reaching into his pocket, Mythos pulled out a Golden Credit Stick and held it between his index and middle fingers of the artificial arm that Sandy had attached for him as he smiled a bit forcefully. "But please, allow it to be my treat" Mythos voice strained as he bowed properly and offered her to take the lead, the Shistavanen's real arm extended.
  5. As her words came across my hearing, they stung at my heart. Partially because she questioned me, but also partially because, in truth, I held no true answer. When I came to the Jedi, it was join or prison for me. So I joined under Master Armiena, taking the position of her Apprentice and never looking back. It was the truth of my childhood. Ever since I lost my parents all those years ago, it's how I had reacted to life. I acted first without thought, and never questioned the reasoning or the why, steadily moving forward so I didnt have to look back at my past. My gaze still staring at her, I realized that it was time to question everything I had done and become. Was it truly just to survive? Was it truly just to make my way in life? Was it truly the only option? Was it truly to redeem myself? Did I truly wish to be a Jedi? I asked myself these questions over and over as I hung my head in thought. I survived, yes, but at the expense of others. I made my way in life, but as a thief and vagrant. I chose this option, but only to remain free. I am redeemed, but at the expense of my freedom. I do want to be a Jedi, but I dont know what it means to be Jedi. These were the answers I found hidden within in me. And as I discovered them, it only pained me more. I gazed back at Armiena, the confusion in my eye glazing it over with tears as I looked at her for guidence. But what I saw in her own was a feeling similar to my own. I hadn't noticed it much before, but the signs were there all along. She held the eyes of a soldier, marching into battle without thought of consequence, distancing herself from those within the Order as well as her family, and constantly put herself in harm's way with little care for herself or those that treasured her with little regard for Order. She was no more a Jedi than I. "Master..." I started to question, an understanding begin to form in my mind and echoing its presence in my own gaze. "Are you asking for me? Or for yourself?" As I let the question linger in the air, I turned back to my own thoughts. Ever since I joined her as her Padawan, my life had been one rollercoaster ride after the other. But I enjoyed it. It completed me in ways that I had never felt before. The help I had aided with, the lives I had saved, it brought joy I had never felt before. But despite not truly understanding what a Jedi truly stood for, I knew deep down that this was the life for me whether it was originally one of choice or not. Not out of personal gain, nor for the fame and glory. No. I wanted this life because of what I was able to do. Like aiding those on Borleias, Coruscant, and whatever planet the war would lead to next. If I could bring a smile to someone's face or protect another from ending an orphan like myself, then it was worth it. It wasnt the duties of a Jedi that made me want to become one. It was that I was now choosing to be one so that i could perform those duties. So the answer to her question was simply. I wanted to become a Jedi to be a Jedi.
  6. Qaela and her two remaining bodyguards escorted the Rebels along with a hefty escort of Sith Troopers to the escape pod. The pod, double checked and scrubbed of any potential intel, was then jettisoned into the void between systems around 30 lightyears from Borleias that the Herløv had reverted from hyperspace to. They had enough food and water for a few days as well as a Holocomm distress beacon. Though the thought of how ironic it would be if the escape pod emitted the default Sith Imperial emergency signal and summoned another Sith ship filled Qaela's fancy, she did gruffly remind the Rebels to alter the signal. While the Rebels were being prepared for their departure, medical and repair crews descended upon the communications center to both take care of the wounded and begin dealing with the damage from the fight that had taken place there. As soon as they were off her ship, Qaela ordered the Star Destroyer and its escorting fleet to return to Coruscant and the True Emperor. While the quick preparations were being made, she went to the medical ward where Mordecai was being tended. There wasn't much for her to do on the ship while it was in hyperspace, so she would see to Mordecai's care.
  7. Last week
  8. Ryzhkov and Ivanov exchanged a knowing glance as they watched the aged training vessels begin to be escorted by tugs onto drydock at the massive orbital shipyards. The Galactic Alliance commander that had overseen the operation was certainly dealing with inner demons, and fear rolled off the man like a cloud of fuel oil. Ivanov smiled softly to her partner and together the two of them strode after the commander. After a short shuttle ride, the two imperial knights caught up to the Shistavanen as his own shuttle landed. Ivanov, being the least threatening of the pair, being a relatively young woman with slight stature and a pretty face, took the lead. She waved him down as he came off the shuttle craft with a smile and a wave. “Commander! Would you like to get a bite to eat with the two of us?” She held up a silver credit chip indicating that the two of them would pay for the meal. It was at least a step to see if the Wolf like man would be open to a conversation. ______ @Vox The rebel alliance officer, busy with the readout of his datapad showing the enormous costs of the adventure to Anaxes, glanced up at the militia man and smiled. He fiicked up another search function on his datapad and typed a few lines of command code. He read the results then glanced back up. “Of course, they are planetside in some of the new shelters that have been constructed. Block 4ED8 if that helps any.” He glanced at the man’s name tag and then typed another line. “You are due for some R&R I believe, but your commanding officer, Mythos, may know better. He is also planetside.”
  9. Delta’s eyes narrowed as the EOD team disabled the next placed trap, holding the woman in front of him like a shield of mandalorian iron and tender flesh. Elements of Lima One and Hotel Two were advancing in behind him, taking cover before letting the next line advance, teams of four branching out to clear adjacent tunnels as they wound their way towards the power generator. When the passageways began to expand out into a vast complex, Delta motioned to his team. It was important to avoid being flanked especially while in the heart of the enemy encampment, the generator was close and so it was time to switch tactics. He let him men pass in front of him as they advanced, spreading out into fireteams to cover the vast debris filled space. He motioned to Landgraf, and the female took the captive mandalorian in tow, her blaster rifle in place at the back of the woman’s head. If ever there would be an ambush it would be here. There had been enough time to set something elaborate up even. He let the dull red glow of his ‘T’ visor survey the stubborn mandalorian as he passed the woman over. <”I am Mandalorian, you can trust or not. You die uselessly or not. You have showed little honour or desire to be redeemed. Mock as you will. You can be saved or you cannot. You and yours can attack my men, kill a few then be disgraced. I care not. Your body will remain warm enough after the blaster discharges. Salvation and honour exists, but only for the victor. You have a choice, now make it.”> He motioned to Landgraf who grinned beneath her helmet biting off a laugh at her commanding officer. She was not used to seeing him so causally cruel. But the Ishi Tib Marines were looking for spoils. The laugh was soft but vicious as the heavy support company entered the cave, their heavy weapons wishing to be used against anything but moonfall. Lima One, the Devil Hounds were finally on location and they were eager for combat. The company had sustained heavy casualties, but they were a united enough force to be effective. And the objective was very close. Delta looked back at the Mandalorian then to his advancing companies.
  10. G L O R Y H O U N D What have my enemies become? He looked to his open palms for answers. Searching the metal canvasses covering his hands, combing the unsurfaced asphalt before his feet as he stepped slowly towards the barrier, his eyes found no clear answer to the question. The expression on his face suggested no such concerns, unnaturally composed for how harshly the world around him was beaten, much less the problem that laid before him. There were harsher times than these, powerful creatures that offered a chance at death. The softest of sighs escaped his cold lips, a droplet of frustration for the way things were. The rise and fall of the crusaders, a campaign so miserably abrupt that it seemed like little more than a temper to be thrown. And this was all that was left to show for it. “Just one moment,” Exodus moved closer now, waving his hand with the Force as words of caution eased into the minds’ ear of Vadmir the hopeless. He spoke without tongue, and with a dark inflection of sound that seemed strangely commanding. Ordinary folk would spin tales that when the Spider chose to speak, the heaviness of his simplest words took hold of the soul entirely. Gripping, seductively magnetic, eating away profoundly at all levels of consciousness. The Emperor-King was closer now, cleverly positioning the curious Mandalorian directly in front of his slow march, blocking the line-of-sight the others would have. The barrier and a foot of space separated the two. “Little Mandalorian. We have not crossed paths before this, so I will give you a single chance to prove your nature.” Exodus held eyes as only the strongest ilk of the Dark Side have, with a burning chroma impregnated with inquisitive hatred. Such a fiery saturation churned the calming emerald that once was, and became the only means in which the Dark Lord communicated his emotion. “Rats, I dislike them entirely. Sniveling pests, self-serving and easily frightened. They are a necessary breed, but I find them everywhere I step. Jedi, Crusaders, Mandalorians, and I dare-say, even several Sith have shared the same skin.” He whispered his words sincerely, spending the small measure of time to occupy space inside the mind of the Mandalorian. The gesture was passive, seeding his subconscious with imagery of battle, triumphs that showcased the Emperor as a threat that now stood just an arm reach away. “You see.. this is an extermination. And just like rats, this Glory Bound you serve, scurries beneath a land that will never belong to them. There is no honour here among you cowards, you bring shame to your heritage, and I know you can feel it. Do not worry, I will butcher the lot of you for it. Your chance is to choose now, Vadmir. Die in the dirt with the rest of them, or join the Dark side and find your dignity. You and I both know, this wall will not hold me.” The Dark Side was intoxicating, but the truth was a heavy swallow for most. He understood the meaning of this. Kill the others and drop the wall, or face retribution. "Choose, Vadmir."
  11. H O L L O W E M P I R E Higher Echelon of the Imperial Society (Current Player-Character Ranking) ______________________________________________ Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) (More to come? Editing? Not pasted in order yet **) Primal I, Primal II, Primal III, Primal IV, Primal V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X ______________________________________________ II. E X O D U S EMPEROR-KING EXODUS @Exodus Name: Malacoda Syn SI Rank: Emperor & Dark Lord of the Sith Prestige: Titles & Designations: Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. Q A E L A MASTER QAELA @Qaela Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. D E L T A BLOOD PRINCE DELTA, CAPTAIN @Delta73 Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. N Y R Y S LADY NYRYS @Darth Nyrys Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. T E L P E R I Ë N LADY TELPERIEN @Telperiën Ar-Pharazon Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. A W E N Y D D LADY AWENYDD @Fieldgrey Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. S I R E N A LADY SIRENA @Chaotic Tranquility Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. M O R D E C A I SITH APPRENTICE MORDECAI @Mavanger Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. S H I R O CORPORAL SHIRO @The Last Armegedon Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. R O R A N SITH APPRENTICE RORAN @Psychosis Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. B A K R A PETTY OFFICER BAKRA @Bakra Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. K R A V E N SITH APPRENTICE KRAVEN @Berserker Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________ II. B A R O N SITH APPRENTICE BARON FERN @Fynn Relmis Name: SI Rank: (Power Rank within the Sith Empire) Prestige: (Your Celebrity) Titles & Designations: (Nicknames, earned titles, inn-speak fables) Notable Achievements: (Achievements that have stood out within Imperial Society) Conquests: (Event Participation) Powerbase: (What does your character control within the Empire? Wealth, NPCs, Planets/Locations, Administrations, Etc) ______________________________________________
  12. Shiro boarded the ship with Dunstan on his shoulder, carrying his comrade up the ramp with haste, the others boarding behind them just as quickly. So many were lost upon this frigate, this deathtrap forged to keep the criminals within and yet unable to stop those outside from getting in. The horrors played back over and over in his mind as he sat Dunstan down, his gaze still fixated upon the Sith as she moved down the hall toward the cockpit and out of sight, the Imperial Marine unable to discern which of them were capable of more death, the Cabal or she. "Will you be alright Corporal?" Shiro inquired as his crimson gaze shifted away from the Trooper toward where the Sith had trekked, following the Pilot from before. "I want to find out what's going on exactly." "I will be now." He replied, placing a hand up on Shiro's shoulder, causing Shiro to gaze back at him and then to the others, only twelve members of the original assault remaining, the rest ghosts upon this ship now. "Be careful Shiro. The Sith are unpredictable, even under the leadership of the Dark King. Only his power binds them together." Shiro's gaze remained on Dustan and his warning resounded through his thoughts as he stood and headed toward the cockpit where he caught the form of the Sith huddled against the bulkhead and the pilot taking the helm. Cautiously he approached, unsure what to think of her or what she might do, too many questions for both swimming about in his mind to make sense of anything at this point. <<Will you ignore me...>> Shiro heard an otherworldly voice pierce his mind as his gaze briefly caught her form scramble for the nav-chair as his eyes ached to fade and his head ached to split for a simple second, his crimson eyes glowing as his form fell toward the bulkhead its self. Catching himself, the moment passed and Shiro shrugged it off, hoping whatever it was had passed and went unnoticed as he entered the cockpit. Catching her gaze upon his, he shifted them away as the pilot finished prepping the preflight check and offering his warnings when he heard the Sith speak, his attention turning back to her and Bakra. "Speaking of deathtraps..." Shiro spoke, his gaze fixated mostly upon the Sith's, but shifted toward the pilot as he finished his question. "What was the purpose of our mission here?" Shiro still held the missive that spoke of the Imperial Seal, but he felt that was just a secondary goal. If it was, then what was the true goal?
  13. Lok looked toward the two with understanding eyes. It would indeed drain him significantly, but it was a price he was willing to pay simply to nourish his Commanding Officer. But like Adenna, this soul transference, troubled him. Not so much the affects it could pose on the body and the soul in the long run, as most cases rarely saw side effects. But it was the nature that it often found its self aided with, and for an Imperial Knight, it could spell expulsion or even purification. And for Kyrie, it could have dire consequences. With a simple nod, Lok gathered his things and began to long trek ahead to safety. Lok's main assessment as an Imperial Knight was that of a similar nature to a Jedi Sentinel. He was neither strong in Force, nor was he highly skilled in combat. No. Lok was well rounded, holding a vast knowledge of the Force to make up in the areas he lacked, and could weild a blade enough to protect those in need. But this was something that had followed him over from the Jedi Order during the Schism. And from that gathered knowledge, he held a slight understanding of what was happening to Kyrie. As the others began to set up camp for the night, Lok made a small detour toward a balcony that still remained sturdy. He gazed up toward the smoldering skies over Coruscant and contemplated over their finding Kyrie and of her transference. Perhaps it was the Force's guidence that led her to Adenna and Lok, or perhaps them to her. Either way, it worried Lok about repercussions. After all, the Force wasn't inheritantly light nor dark, only the nature of the user. But in this day and age, as well as the sins of the past, it was still viewed as a tool of darksided. But Lok knew better. Returning to camp, Lok approached just as Adenna was question Kyrie about how this came to be. "I must confess that I am puzzled too. It's not unheard of, but rare that a lightsider use such a power. And the Order will likely view it as such, wanting to purify the body." His eyes shifted between the two, allowing his words of warning to linger briefly. "Is the soul still present? Or has it passed from this world? If it has passed, then perhaps we can make the case of the Force's will. But if not, if it still remains, we need to strengthen the bond between you two in order to heal the mixed souls" He realized what he was suggesting, but given the array that the Order was in right now, they needed Kyrie more than ever.
  14. The Dark Side is fueled by war. By that pride of man that grips the heart and turns him to violence. We embrace sentience in all its forms as passion is its lifeblood. The Jedi would have you deny your very humanity. There is no peace. There was never peace. Not while free will exists. ***** The Krath stumbled onto the freighter, her legs feeling like they were made from lead and her joints as if they were filled with the burning sands of Tatooine. The expenditure of power was draining, but there was something far more sinister at work. A feeling that made the fine hair on the back of her neck rise. Adrenaline pulsed and the Sith slide down the bulkhead that adjoined to the cockpit. She gazed out the open landing ramp with glassy eyes and focused on her own locus of control. The Sith could feel it there, gnawing at her gut, a devouring hunger that was not her own. Her eyes closed as she focused/ It was like a parasite burrowing itself through her, its teeth rending her flesh, consuming her power. Her temper had no effect on it, nor anger, nor hate. The Sith Lord shook as she tried to smother the parasite with her own fire, but all the strength she poured into it, it consumed and grew stronger. It was somehow familiar. She smelled spiced pipesmoke. <<Did you think I would be so easily tossed aside?>> Fieldgrey’s eyes snapped open and she scrambled into the cockpit, tossing herself into the nav-chair. No, no, no. Not now. She was in a cold sweat, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She would leave the Pilot and Shiro to the steering. She spit a mouthful of blood into her hands, cringing at the site. It began to smoke. <<Will you ignore me...>> The Sith Lord closed her eyes again against the onslaught of her master’s haunting presence. All she could feel now was hunger. <<Like the death of your Sister?>> Darth Awenydd frowned. She had died from her own weakness. Chaos had brought that life short. It was why she craved power, to stop the chaos from killing more innocents. Her mind turning to that night on Nar Shaddaa, the ravaging of her mute sister by the Sith, her own escape. Kyrie had died there, slain in that rusting apartment. Amongst the blood of their mother, last moments spoiled in vile depravity. …Hadn’t she? From behind her eyes came a vision, a battletorn hanger. Not much unlike the one they were escaping now. A dying Sith and a dying Jedi. The woman had a silver lightsaber, and she was on fire. Her flesh was melting into white flame. Emerald eyes. You were made like glass, so fragile, so fine. The Pilot’s voice cracked through her self-reflection, burning through her master’s lesson. “I'll get us there but it's gonna be rough.” Grief dissolved her resolve and hunger overcame her. The Sith licked the smoking blood from her hands, removing the crimson stain from her pale flesh. She was fighting for control and losing. Her voice was grave, but betrayed her inner struggle with a hint of desperation. “Get us to the Sith fleet. We will not be led into another deathtrap, even at the Dark Lord’s command.”
  15. Disbelief, then outrage made itself apparent on her student’s expression. Understandable, as Armiena had just made an incredibly insulting statement to a young man who had been through hell and guided a few hundred other sapients back out. That was more than the veteran Jedi could say for herself at that age. “I don’t doubt that you will perform your duties,” Armiena stated flatly, without a sign that she had taken offense at his reaction. “But… will you be a Jedi because you will perform your duties, and you’ll perform your duties because you’re a Jedi? That’s the kind of reasoning that tyrants have abused for all of history. That I don't believe. And I don’t believe that you are here simply because it is your duty. You wouldn’t have chosen this life without a reason.” She sighed and turned in the pilot’s seat to face her student. She needed to hear the full truth from Genesis. He needed to hear himself speak it.
  16. Vox took the pat as a sign of good fortune, seeing Mythos congratulate the others it looked as if there was nothing more. The least Vox did was complete his task and hopefully, hopefully soon they can find a suitable planet for his people. In due time it will happen, and he hoped he wasn't just another body on the field. The Trandoshan turned and saw his other two comrades walk toward him, meeting them halfway, they would agree to meet up with the others... Wherever they were on this ship. He went to the nearest officer or whoever looked to be in command. "Pardon, but I ask where the rest of my people are and if you could show me," Vox asked an individual, "I'm not necessarily sure as to what we need to do... Should we rest that is better but if there is another assignment, preferably with only myself or two of us then I'll accept it." ((I'm so sorry for the short post, this is for whoever answers... Up to y'all!))
  17. Bakra frowned. The corporal had a point, but he didn't like the idea of having a batch of fresh-blooded cadets watching his back. Not to mention that he was actually starting to like his fellow pilots. It would be a shame if they died now. He was pulled out of his thoughts by a noise that peirced his ears as the hanger wall was torn down in one fell motion by the Sith and the freighter on the other side was pulled towards them. The power of a Sith Lord, he heard the corporal mutter. Suddenly, he felt that he was on the winning side. How could anyone stand up against such casual power? Before, he'd served out of greed, looking to make more money than he had on Nar Shaddaa. But after witnessing what he had today, from the self mutilation and whirlwinds of metallic death to the sundering of entire walls of durasteel, he realized just how likely this war would be much more than a few skirmishes on backwater planets. Still, he hada job to do. He wasted no time on a response, moving to his ship and retreiving his transponder before sprinting up the entry ramp and into the cockpit, getting acquainted with the controls. "Everybody buckle up. I've never flown one of these and we're about to go through a warzone with possibly no support and the wrong transponder in the ship. The only ones who know who we are are my squadron and they might all be dead already. I'll get us there but it's gonna be rough."
  18. Frond stood watching as his old friend began his preparations for battle, small and subtle. A pant of sadness swept through the Neti, he really did not want to do this; nor did Tobias it seemed. Yet he was forcing the play. Even before Tobias began to propel himself forward, Frond saw it happening. With his mind open to the flows of the force, the Mindwalker turned Jedi seemed to live ahead of the time stream; sometimes moments, sometimes years. The more the surface of the force was rippled by headstrong and frivolous users, the muddier the waters became. It was why Frond loves being alone amongst nature so much; his mind open, embracing the calmness of the natural world as his and their minds and lives mingled together as one. Even now, Frond could feel Tobias’ footsteps on the ground. Each footfall a subtle acknowledgement of the impending BF attack. So even as Tobias jumped, slashing downwards at his aged tree-like friend, Frond had but to activate his weapon for a brief second, the golden hues blade erupting to clash again his brother’s before vanishing back into the hilt once again. Even the flame that shot forth each time the blade was called forth and the wave of dark hunger that blasted outward had not died down before Frond had called the blade back and spun about. As Tobias landed on the narrow path, Frond’s mind was already engulfed in the slip stream. The force echoed with the dark pain of loss and despair the fallen Jedi felt. He felt it mingling with the minds and hearts of all that was around them, rustling blades of grass and far off leaves. The force was alive and well, one but had to know how to see it. In that, Frond was an expert. Without hesitation, before his brother could move to flee or strike, Frond allowed the crashing waves of the force to defend upon his own mind, calling back the tidal waves of fury that erupted from their contact, leaving the world about them as natural as untouched as it was before they disturbed it. With barely an inclination of his head Frond took all the chaos that he had called back and directed it in one invisible, ground rippling tidal wave of fury towards Tobias in an effort to drive him back towards and over the precipice. If he could not save his friend, Frond would assuredly see that he did not become an agent of that he had dedicated his life to combating. No. The dark side would not take another victim. And yet, there Frond stood, a tree in the wind, twisted with age, but standing tall, refusing to yield. Not a word had been spoken; it hadn’t been needed. Frond has no doubt Tobias knew exactly where the ancient being stood.
  19. Initially, Aidan tensed as a huge tree...thing...rounded one of the corners Master Tobias had returned from, wondering if Tobias was fleeing from it, if it was potentially the creature or even Sith behind these attacks, or specifically what its intentions were. That was all answered in a few seconds when it joined the fray against the reanimants, even wielding a lightsaber against them. There would be time for questions later, Aidan was just glad it wasn't another enemy for them to face. This place was dangerous enough as an architecturally unstable ruin, to say little of the Dark side Force zombies that now supposedly infested it. With haste, the Imperial Knight logged off the console and took up his lightsaber, igniting both silver blades as he took his position helping to guard the rear as the group began to move. They would live to see tomorrow, but they would need to work for it.
  20. ((Jax/Nyrys - as SC-4R)) Scar moved quickly and surprisingly quietly for a lumbering war droid, the droids being well adapted to all battlefield conditions including stealth to maintain the element of surprise. "Our primary mission is to secure the location from further damage both to the structure and the artifacts within. The Mandalorian insurgents seem to be after something specific, else they would have never employed these tactics. We must deny them their goal." Suddenly, Scar stopped, holding out an arm to stop Jax as well. The four melee variants also froze, choosing to hide behind various points in order to stage an effective ambush. Scar's volume adjusted down very low, as he began to do the same, gesturing for Jax to follow. "Two of them, just ahead. Their path has changed. Forty five seconds to intercept. We will eliminate them and continue on. Ready yourself." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ((Exodus)) For nearly two days, nothing had happened. It didn't sit well with Vadmir, he was hoping to join his brothers and sisters in battle, yet here he was, assigned to gate guard duty. Vadmir had no idea why Skon wanted this place locked down so tightly or what even lay at the back end of the cavern, most of the troops reinforcing the location had been restricted to the far end, having set up two E-Web emplacements and the ray shields which finally came online a few hours ago. If the entire Sith fleet had come knocking, Vadmir doubted they'd be able to get through easily, as the emitters were tied directly into what remained of the planetary power grid. They'd have an easier time blasting through the rock directly, but Skon seemed convinced that wouldn't happen. As he looked across the lunar impact fields for what felt like the millionth time, he knew in his gut that he was truly bored. There wasn't much honor in this, though he knew that his job was somewhat meagerly important. In an hour or so it would be time for Breyk's shift, and he could resume playing sabacc with the others and taking their money. But for now, the moonfall did have the capacity to entrance and dazzle. It was a spectacle unlike any other, and Vadmir knew that he'd never see anything like it ever again. One piece of falling debris caught his attention, though, moving at a different angle from the rest. It was small, but angled shallowly and as it got bigger Vadmir realized it would impact very near by, if not on the shield itself. He debated calling out for the others to watch the spectacle, but decided not to simply because he wanted them to be surprised. Most of them were jerks anyways, and likely would have done the same to him. Besides, they could watch his helmet cam footage later. Closer, closer...whatever it was seemed to have some kind of cloth attached to it, catching the wind and billowing behind it. It flew with enormous speed, impacting right outside the shields with a loud thud and kicking up enough dust that Vadmir couldn't immediately tell what it was. But as the dust began to clear, Vadmir thought he saw the silhouette of a person. Impossible. It took a half second for his senses to confirm, his pupils dilating wide under his helmet, and a cold sweat forming on his brow. This person, whoever they were, defied everything Vadmir had known to be real. There were whispers he'd heard of space wizards among the Sith, powerful beings that could warp reality with their minds, but Vadmir had always shrugged it off as nonsense. Regardless, the man represented a clear threat. He took a deep breath, ready to yell out a general warning to his brethren, but deep in the recesses of his mind he knew it was far too late for that. One thing was for sure, he'd never see another thing like the moonfall ever again.
  21. Raven nodded politely, waving a cut, gloved hand to dismiss the acquisition of her old lightsabre. Its long silver handle was marked by years of use, though it had been lovingly cared for over the decade and a half she had had the device. She had lost the fight and like their lives themselves, it had all been a risk that they could have lost. Still they had learned much at the hands of the Sith, and for that Raven was at least grateful. She bowed to the Sith Master Qaela as did her Imperial Knights. “Until we meet again Lady of the Sith.” For Ismael the departure was different. He looked upon the smoking bodies of the Sith lords and apprentices and a flicker of sadness passed over his tanned face. “I will pray for their souls.” He looked the Lady of the Sith in her purple eyes and inclined his head, tapping his pauldron. “And for yours as well lady.” And so the Rebel Alliance departed the Sith star destroyer, in an escape pod that was slight and cramped. But they were alive.
  22. Shambling along, Frond followed the ebb and flow of the force as it seemed to guide him towards the Jedi ruins. He was getting closer to his comrades. He could feel it. When Tobias rounded the corner, the aged tree-being paused momentarily, a smile creasing his face as a means of greeting. Not a word needed spoken, the flow of chaotic darkness that followed Tobias said enough. The others needed them. As Tobias turned and urged him to follow, Frond was already reaching into the hollow that opened in his chest and removed the haft of log that he had nestled there. The faint dark hunger sensed the darkness emanating throughout the ruins; it was time to feast. Plodding several paces after Tobias, Frond followed him back into the ruins hearing his Master’s voice. Without a second thought, Frond swung the haft of wood striking the nearest force-powered undead square in the face before following it up with a log sized fist driving the creature’s face into the wall with a sickening crunch. Frond felt the darkness leaving the undead’s body as it’s unnatural life force left it’s body. The force was a mystery, but even as it swirled about the room in a maelstrom of dark perverse energies and calming light, Frond felt his mind settling. He was a beacon of the light, called to bring the balance of a razor’s edge. Even as he clubbed another shambler with his deactivated hilt, Frond could sense the calm peace of the force guiding his actions. All about him swam chaos. Without fear he waded into it flailing his viney wooden limbs. He lashed out at anything that got near him. Wrapping his viney sinews of bark around legs, arms, and necks Frond sent the abominations cartwheeling through the air; following after the storm that was Tobias. Seeing Tobias’ subtle signal and more so feeling it ripple across the force, Frond leaped forwards hurdling over Tobias’ crouched form. As he flew through the air, Frond drew his hilt from right to left in front of his body, the golden blade erupting in a flash of orange flame from the burnt end of his club-like haft. The dark hunger that was just a murmur before erupted in a silent echo that reverberated about the room on the waves of the force; crying out in hunger for destruction. The blade slashed at a downward angle as the eight and a half foot blade carved the first few lines of the pressing force into so many halves. Landing with a crash, that could be felt through the floors, on what would have been his knees, Frond exhaled, allowing the warm naturalness of the planet’s overgrowth to flood his mind and shield him from the clawing hunger gnawing at him from his saber. Driving his blade forward, Frond stood. Swinging the blade back and forth with little skill or grace, but expertly placed to provide maximum dissection, the Neti pushed his way forwards until he came close enough to Kel to reach out with his free hand. He gently tugged on Kel’s shoulder as he squeezed it momentarily, allowing the warmth of his grasp to wordlessly indicate Frond’s pleasure at seeing his fellow apprentice still alive and well. The tug was meant to urge his friend that it was time to go. Letting go, Frond grasper the four handed hilt of his saber in both hands and swept it back and forth as he began to clear a path towards the entryway.
  23. As he slowly came back to the grips of reality and his surroundings- he became aware that the fight inside the library was not going well. Gritting his teeth, he relaxed into the Force- letting it flow around him as if it were a body of water. It surrounded him, enveloped him. The pain in his left shoulder was gone, the ache in his neck vanished as well. He knew what that entity had meant, upon reflection. He was one with the Force, and he would save his companions. Outside of the first greeting he and Frond hadn't spoken- they hadn't needed to. Tobias trusted the Neti, and they functioned along the same mindset; mostly. His staff slung across his back, he pulled out the two lightsabers he had lost so long ago. Clicking them together to form a double blade, he looked to Frond and nodded his own head. Just as Sandy called the two apprentices- the pair rushed into the room and they became part of the cyclone of activity in the Library. These were primal beasts- one mindset: devour anything. Seeing the strange Force aura color emanating off the beasts- he reached out to touch it. It was like a string on a loose garment- you could pull and pull and keep on pulling. That’s what he just did- the mongrels all stopped in their pursuit of the three younglings in the room and focused on the doorway that Vos walked through. Those immediately engaging Aiden, Kel and Sandy continued their assault- Vos even had to put a blaster bolt in one rushing Aiden. The corpse slammed into a terminal and toppled over it with how fast it was moving. Holstering his blaster, Tobias welcomed the onslaught. Feral mouths bellowed at him, yet he remained calm- keeping ahold of the force tendril with his mind. He turned all the aggression towards him. Pulling and pulling them towards not his death- theirs. Their release from this tormented reality- this corruption. There was a flood of ghouls here and his blades were thirsty for blood from dark side entities. He would indulge them- but he gave a small signal- and then knelt- and what appeared was a large tree leaping over Tobias and bisected the creatures rushing them. Frond has just entered the fray, and now it was Tobias’ turn. A trip of loud pops filled the room and purple blades came to life. The power cell was a tad unstable as there was an odd crackling emanating from the hilt- worse than the last time he had used these. A song poured from the blade as Tobias pulled these creatures into the purple radiance. Each one they were able to neutralize equaled the less of a hold the dark side had on Gala. The strings binding the energies here would be severed and the natural balance could be established. With efficiency Vos launched into a complicated tumble; he spun, taking out two; a kick spun a creature around, momentum carrying it away; a somersault forward sliced a few pairs of legs off. Spinning up, he guided the blade in a low whirl around his waist- finishing the creatures who lad lost their legs. Finally planting his feet and coming to a halt- he pumped his fist out and a force wave shot out carrying two others; their bones breaking against the wall. Bringing his elbow back, he knelt and spun into the elbow- the varmint crumpled over his blow- and fell back; but not before a cut landed across its chest. The smell of seared flesh filled the room; he didn’t notice. From one tumble to another Tobias pulled the creatures on their strings- letting his companions assist or fall back as they saw fit. As he had space- he drew his blaster and fired off two shots into the closest beast, holstered- and made a vicious overhead spin with the next group that rushed him. The blade sang a passionate song that Vos barely understood- but he didn’t have to know what the words were. In fact there were no words, the blade had belonged to a exorcist- and there was something those Jedi always whispered about. The songs of the light side- or whatever. He didn’t have to completely understand it to know it was a beautiful melody, to know it was a song to be heard- this was its last song- its last reason for hanging on. Sizzling through the air and through the gang of creatures flooding the room- Tobias tried to focus the creatures attention onto himself; the blade sang a beautiful song within the Force. That was all he could focus his eyes on at the moment; the others were nearby but that was it- the song and the flow of battle was everything to him in this moment. He hoped Sandy would pick up on his strategy, he didn’t have time or the concentration to reach out to her.
  24. The body seized, the brain loosened, and the euphoric surrender of life loaned itself to the Sith Reaper. The Anzati King released his clutch, and tossed the creature to the wayside. The emptied corpse rolled a few paces, lightly sprawling to an awkward stop. What life remaining in such a broken creature, drained without struggle or remorse. The excessive torture that the wretch had suffered was an overindulgence that the Lords of Old used to exhibit their insanity, wanton and serving little more than to inflate their desperate egos. This mouthpiece of Ar-Pharazon was no more, and the ignorance that the worm had suffered with for decades, had finally come to an end. Exodus brushed his heavy-cloak, shaking the moonfall soot from the rich embroidery, casting his sight to where he now understood his destination would be. "Arkob Skon. I see you." The Spider dropped out of his thought and sprang for the entrance. Hoarse adrenaline flushed through his veins. Exodus jerked his movement unpredictably, leather bound boots trampling incredibly fast over the rocky terrain, bounding left and right in dark flashes. Meteoric deterioration fell from the skies in all shapes and sizes, hammering the landscape all around him with terraforming power. The King himself worked to keep his balance definite, knowing that the slightest mistake could lay him beneath an impact that would wipe him from existence. The danger zone did not hesitate in a constant attempt to erase all things living, unearthing all manner of hazard and secrets as it did. His handmade alchemical vestments afforded him excellent maneuverability, akin to the hunters of his homeworld. And so, the Dark King moved like the wind. Visions drew to the front of his mind, screening his reality with instinctive direction on where to find this entrance. He had never been, but the wretch now showed him the way. He found himself ignoring the many wide-berthed fractures in the tectonic plates of Coruscant, most of them oozing super-heated gases to the surface or belching a yawning descent in which there would be no returning from. Then suddenly, the assassin tucked into a roll and launched himself into a rocky opening. _______ Exodus deftly flew himself a great distance into a lightless black, landing where his memories had led him, lightly against another ruptured bedrock. Looking around, sweeping the full range of his eyesight, he found himself in a cavernous space. Erected before the Dark Lord now, was the broadest barrier stretched from wall to wall, salmon-colored and seemingly thicker than the walls of Dragon Gate. He marched forward, indifferent about the obstacles that stood in his way.
  25. Aegis

    Savareen

    A chance. It was not cognitive thought that operated, but rather a lower level subroutine, a small lightweight fragment of a program meant to measure certain fading sensor readings and act based on certain conditions. Ambient light level, atmospheric content, heat signatures, electrochemical readings, all fed from internal systems of the ship undergoing a cascade failure and rapidly collapsing. Minutes longer, and the statistical odds of recovery in a workable time would have risen exponentially as the distress signal gave out and a controlled scenario became wildly uncontrolled. But the subroutine triggered, having determined a humanoid of sufficient compatibility was immediately present. One last long shot, a sequence fired off to the dying ship controls, only managing to control internal lighting and minor console indicators. From Tros's perspective, an arrow made from small specks of light behind the collapsed suit slowly flashed, managing three cycles before completely dying, indicating a rod that had punctured the back of the armor under the right shoulder blade, conveniently the side that currently faced him. The internal lights also flashed rapidly, quickly blinking out a succinct message in Morse code before also falling dead. Remove foreign object. Right rear pectoral. If anything, Tros's HUD might have picked up and translated, but either way the message should have been loud and clear. A dark, thick blood slowly oozed from the puncture. Inside Aegis was the corpse of his creator, Kul'rorr, having suffered severe blaster wounds from eroded spots on the armor that had been shot through, and a fatal injury from the rod, unfortunately puncturing the armor as he fell in battle. But despite that failure, Aegis had calculated and executed a successful extraction, hoping to complete his secondary programming with another pilot. Now, it all led to this. The rod had shorted out a critical circuit in the micro fusion reactor. If Tros managed to remove it, Aegis would once again be able to power up and begin to repair itself; and more importantly, resume its mission. What Aegis hadn't calculated, what he simply couldn't completely account for despite a massive tactical database, was the situation that they now both found themselves in. He was an AI, and did not believe in luck, but they would need a great deal of luck if they were likely to survive their immediate circumstances.
  26. Tros suddenly looked towards the sky upon the loud thundering sound of an explosion. His eyes caught a glimpse of what looked like a chunk of metal falling towards the ground not far off from where the crew were currently at. Vrax immediately looked at Tros with some hesitation. “Dimaal’s doing?” Behind his buy’ce, he narrowed his eyes. “I doubt it. But it could mean trouble regardless…” He quickly scanned the surrounding area to see what was present and to think through what was happening. If it was going to be a trap, this could complicate things. “Better get everyone up there. I’ll scout out the clunk that fell. If Dimaal is up to something, we better keep as many advantages as we can. Go make the deal. I’ll give support if that turns out to be nothing.” Tros didn’t wait for a response, as he knew that Vrax would give none anyways. So instead readied himself to move out quickly towards the crash. Deep down, there was something in the back of his mind that told him something was up. Whatever was going on, he needed to be prepared. Even as he walked away, he was checking on his DE-10’s to make sure that they were ready for whatever might be found over the small hill. Upon reaching the top, he looked out and observed the wreckage through the scanner within his buy’ce. There didn’t seem to be any sign of hostility, and his scans were showing no signs of life. Linking up his comm to Vrax - “Vrax, it could be nothing. No signs of life. I’m going to go in close to check it out…” There was a sound that began to fill the air. Almost like another ship approaching. When he looked up, he couldn’t see anything. “Keep your eyes peeled. I’ll keep this frequency open until I’m done scouting.” Tros began to pick up the pace. He wanted to check it out quickly and get back. If Dimaal was trying to pull something over them, he would want to be present to help his small crew in the fight. As he got closer he could make out that it was a ship of somesort. Wrecked and burned up. His buy’ce began to pick up a very weak distress signal. “It’s a ship Vrax. Badly damaged and emitting a very weak distress signal. Still no signs of life. I’m going to see if there is anything worth purging then I’ll head your way.” There was a quick click followed by the sound of rapid breathing. “Hurry- Dimaal is playing us for sure. Looks like a second crew of some sort. I have no doubt a firefight is going to break out soon.” Under his breath, he let out a curse as his pace went into a flat out run towards the downed ship. Making almost a slide towards the ship, he pried the door open and began to walk through. Smoke and debris made the entry almost hard. There was little on the ship that seemed to be worthy of purging at first glance, some weapons here and there and a few power sources caught his eye, but nothing worth him lingering over. Then he spotted something… It was small and faint, but his buy’ce picked it up rather quickly. A suit… or maybe armor of some kind that looked much more complicated than anything he had seen before. Almost after taking three steps towards it, his comlink went frantic. “Ardell! Vrax and Bex are down, Dimaal is down. They have the rest of us pinned. Please adv-” The link went dead. Chaavla! He had a feeling that Dimaal would be the downfall of this short lived crew. He was already down Vrax, Bex and Vulios. Who knew who else was still alive or would be by the time he got out of there. He needed to do something and fast.
  27. Adenna nodded at Eleison 's decision, appreciating and respecting the practicality of it. Without discounting what the junior Imperial Knight could do, she had an inkling of what Skyshatter was offering and feared it would also have left him drained. It was best not to risk exposure, especially since Adenna herself knew some things that would help in the long run, even if they weren't as quickly effective. Considering the vomiting, she also didn't offer the stim as it would only make things worse. "Gavand, Morguesen; assist our friend here," she ordered and two of the team stepped forward to offer assistance. She wanted Skyshatter less distracted since he could also use the Force. To Eleison, she said, "I am quite proficient at healing and some refreshing abilities, Skyshatter and I can assist you when we are in cover. We will seek shelter immediately, and the skills are not overly noticeable at a distance." The group, now thirteen, slowly retreated from the scene of carnage and moved into a large building complex to seek shelter for the night. As they went along, Adenna gave Eleison small amounts of their nutrition powder mixed with purified water from her canteen. She didn't want to overwhelm the woman's system, but realized she needed to start getting some nutrients. Since coming across her, Adenna had decided to cut their original two week mission short which meant they had extra rations to offer. They had been here for six days already, but getting Master Eleison back to safety and linked up with the Imperial Knights now took precedence. Having their respected leader returned to them would drastically boost morale within both the Imperial Knights and parts of the old Imperial Remnant. The building they were using seemed to be some sort of office or company headquarters and had not been too heavily looted since it had few things useful for survival. Even then, it was still dismal and not exactly a place that Adenna would want to retire in. Still, it would function and seemed to be mostly void of others, though they placed motion sensors around the camp and constantly kept guards on watch just in case. As they set up their makeshift lodgings and sent a trio of troopers to locate water for purification, Adenna took more time to look at the myriad of issues plaguing Eleison's body. Malnutrition was the worst, though various cuts, scrapes, and some minor infections were also present. Basic first aid and food would take care of most, but what concerned the Grandmaster the most was the mention of something about souls and this not really being a body that was her own. She didn't know too much about possession and soul transference beyond moving into an empty clone body: that was a field that bordered too much on the Dark Side and had fairly little practical use for her to have studied. Even so, she was aware of a few things, especially when it came to physical healing and part of that included calming the mind and soul. "We can easily repair and refresh your body," she said, "but I admit to fairly little knowledge regarding the soul, possession, and transferring your essence. What happened to bring you into this body and what might be done to ease and soothe any discord and strain?"
  28. Aegis

    Savareen

    A loud explosion filled the sky near where Tros Ardell and his crew had landed their ship. A single freighter burst from hyperspace inside the atmosphere, falling towards the ground in smoke and flames. A weak distress signal briefly emanated from the craft before it impacted upon the planet's surface not two hundred yards from Tros's position, skidding through rock and soil to come to a nasty halt. Inside, AE-615's sensors began to power down, its damaged micro fusion reactor unable to continue functioning. His self-repair systems had been compromised, Kul'rorr was dead, and Aegis had failed to carry out its secondary and tertiary programming. One hope remained, but the statistical probability of events occurring in the order needed for it to develop to fruition was calculated as extremely low. Cutting main power, Aegis switched off what he could to stem further damage to his chassis, attempting to conserve any remaining energy to aid the startup sequence, if he was ever restarted. It was the end. And the beginning.
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