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  2. Aziza Kalahari

    Korriban

    The feral? The instruction left Aziza utterly perplexed and rather shocked. There wasn't time now to dwell on it, however, so she put it out of mind. Perhaps he meant only to encourage me look to our survival and put aside other distractions. That was an instruction she could indeed comprehend. Unfortunately, she knew that with her injury she was a liability to the group, so she looked to put herself in a position where she'd do the least harm. Amadeus, it appeared, was curiously defaulting to her command, and therefore the mercenaries would as well, though she had not proven herself to any of them. Wishing she had a more reliable crew--she didn't trust anyone whose loyalty could be bought with credits, and she knew precious little about her new teacher--she gave some quick direction. The Nikto and Selonian she put on either end, with an Arkanian backing them each up, one each facing the two directions in which they heard their enemies approaching. Amadeus she left to the center of the group. Quietly, she commandeered one of the Nikto's spare blasters, and ducked behind a large piece of debris that was serving as the hypotenuse of their rough triangle formation. The debris came up to her chest, and she could remain upright by leaning against it. It would also serve as a line of defense should they need to fall back. The dagger Amadeus had pressed into her hand she laid carefully on the durasteel ledge, ready to be snatched up in a moment. She rather hoped it wouldn't come to that though; she could not put any weight on her leg, and knew that if faced with melee combat she would likely become victim to the enemies' weapons. In all, it was a sad defense, but all that they could do. The pain from her wounds receded and she put herself in a clear-headed state of battle readiness. She raised her blaster, letting it rest on the debris wall. Gokukara, protect us.
  3. Her opponent took the form of Dente di Zenghiaro or The Boar's Tusk, with a wicked looking blade of Sithmetal. The fulleration in the three-foot blade caught the fading light of the evening, giving the sword an impish gleam. On Ord Mantell, such a sword was called a Beidhänder, and it was not a weapon a woman such as the one before her would normally carry. It made the Exorcist cautious as the Sith advanced across the forest floor. She expanded her locus of control across her body, settling a portion upon her weapons. The wind began to blow through the trees, marked by the rattling of the bare branches of a Thyassup above them, the dark-barked tree having long shed its leaves with the change of the seasons. The Song continued its mournful rhythm, and the Saber-spear reverberated with its words. The faint white glow that wreathed its long shaft became a firestorm of light, flowing from the Exorcist’s hands. She sang with the rhythm, letting the words of the Force flow through her. Cor mundum crea in me, deorum et flamme rectum innova in visceribus meis. With her own blackened boots making almost no sound, Kyrie modified her Hellepartan stance into Posta di Fenestra Destra, her saber-spear igniting into an orange glow, sparking with bolts of silver fire. The stance was one seldom used in the treatise of Vom Tag, but it allowed for balance and control in the defense. Her forest-green kama whipped with the wind as she moved. The Exorcist’s left foot came forward, but a larger portion of her weight she held over the right. Her left hand caressed the cortosis-enweaved briar-wood two handsbreadths above the base of the spear, while the right held the wood loosely and close to the balance which she brought up, close to her pointed ear. Starvation… and… Wrath. Such an amplification of emotions was unnatural to the Exorcist. It was a wicked twisting of her own internal struggle. They began to take on their own flames within her but paled against the Holy Flame within her. It blazed far greater, an unstoppable inferno of righteousness, which consumed all before it. The willpower of the Master of the Exorcists was strong. Her probisci flicked at the air. Tasting. Hunting. The ashes of the sin that she had consumed sat like lump of beskar upon her mind, burning but never melting away. The new fires had left a stain upon her, more weight within her soul, and it drove her to engage. The Exorcist sighed with the mournful songs of the Force as they converged about her. Ne proiicias me a facie tua: et ignis sanctum tuum ne auferas a me. The hunger had an external origin and she let forth a portion of the flame that had been fed by it. The Imperial Knight focused upon the Sithling before her, giving the flame life, bonding it to the wind that moved around them, and letting it go. The brilliant white flame leapt from her saber-spear, taking the unconscious form of an all-consuming tempest, rushing to take the Sithling from her left, where the form of the Boar’s Tusk was strongest. From her locus of control, Kyrie whipped one of the six-inch fixed-blade stillettos on her belt with a simple expression of the force. It cracked as it was brought to a dizzying speed before she released it from her minds control. It was angled at the Sithling’s right shoulder, from which the Boar’s Tusk stance was more vulnerable. The Exorcist pressed back into the Hunger of the Song, seeking the influence of her opponent. Now she knew from where this Assassin took a portion of her power. ((1))
  4. Bones looked around him, wondering where Sun-Dragon was hiding. When he emerged from behind and spoke, Bones jumped. He had not heard the Jensaarai at all. His footsteps were so silent, and Bones had been busy searching with his eyes. It was obvious Bones needed practice listening and searching with more then eye-sight. He listened to Sun-Dragon’s words intently, and couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at the compliments. It had been so long since he heard one. The last time he heard one was on Coruscant. Ever since then, the closest thing he got to a compliment was a congratulatory at being so brutal as an enforcer. Bones wasn’t sure if either he or Sun-Dragon had poor humor, but he didn’t get the joke. Still, he listened and nodded, and when Sun-Dragon disappeared, he knew what to do. But how to get back? He was entirely lost in this dense forest line that Sun-Dragon called him into. Bones turned around and tried to get his bearing. He jumped from a branch to a branch. Maybe he could recognise the branches? “Thats...that impossible. Even a well-trained bounty hunter couldn’t do that…” Bones shook his head. “What am I going to do? I guess I could just walk in one direction and hope for the best. Then again…” Bones looked around at the foliage. Why the rush? This place was warm but comfortable. And there were certainly more animals out here. The chirping of Manolliums and flapping of wings, both feathered and leathery, were surprisingly a soothing sound at the moment. Bones took up a tree and sat on a branch, just to enjoy the peace here. It felt right in some way. True he was lost, but still, it was peaceful. He reached into his small pack and pulled out his datapad. Sun-Dragon recommended more reading, specifically the Mireinio ysbrydol. Here was a good spot to do so. “Concerning knowing yourself and nature...” Bones stated out loud to no one in particular. “one must know reality and the root of everything. The root of everything is the Force. It lives in us and beyond us. It has no shape and is emptiness, yet it contains all things. It cannot be held, but it is doubtlessly there. Unseen, yet around always. Even in the space between stars, it is there. Thus, to see the Force, unless your inner eye is opened, you will never see it. The wise know the principles of the Force, but the common people do not. "All things are made up of the Force. Within the Force, there is the Ashra and the Bogun. In and Yo. Consider the elements of the universe: Plant, Fire, Ground, Metal, and Water. Fire and Water oppose each other, as do Plant and Metal and so they fight each other, while ground remains alone. That is because like the Force, they too are In and Yo of each other. Fire and Plant are In, while Water and Metal are yo. Ground is both In and Yo. "The Force exists and gives life to these elements. While all beings have different amounts of the elements within them, they exist in there. Water found in the body turns back to water as the body becomes dry. Fire or heat turns back to fire again as the body gets cold. Metal turns back to metal so the body loses its strength. It shrinks and does not function. After that, whether cremated or buried or simply rotting down, it goes back to the Ground. The bonds that connect the body will scatter and break apart. As the body returns to the elements, the elements return to the In and the Yo. And in turn, the In and Yo return to the Force. "All beings eventually return to the elements, and in turn, to the Force. The Force is everywhere. Since the Force is in the elements, and the elements make up the universe, the Force makes up everything. As it exists within you, it binds you to everything. And being so bound, it connects you with everything in the universe.” Bones took a breath and put the datapad down. There was some more stuff on the pad, but a lot of it was starting to go over his head. This was enough for now. The Force. Bones vaguely remember hearing some stuff about it. About how the Jedi and the Sith used it, as well as the Jensaarai he recently discovered. He recalled in one of the other texts how the Jensaarai meditated to attune themselves to the Force. Perhaps that was what he needed to do here? “I’m certainly in a perfect place for it.” Bones chuckled. Bones slowly closed his eyes and focused himself. There on the branch, he stayed perfectly still, listening to everything around him. The cawing of the birds. The flapping of wings. The gentle movement of stimulated wind rustling the leaves. Bones focused on how they were connected. The trees were plants, which could burn with heat. The heat of the ship kept the trees comfortable. The trees drank water and stored it within their trunks. And they carried immense strength, or metal, to stay standing. So it was with Bones. He had Water in him, floating within his blood. His body generated heat, or Fire. His bones were hard and strong, like Metal. He was organic, like Plant. And eventually, he would die and return to the Ground. “Ashra...Bogun” Bones whispered, slowing his breathing. “Plant, Fire, Ground, Metal, and Water. Ashra...Bogun. Plant...Fire...Ground...Water.” For over an hour, Bones continued this, whispering to himself the In and Yo of the universe, as well as the elements. Something about these words comforted him. He thought about how he was connected to them, and in turn, connected to the things around him. It was a rejuvenating feeling. A wondrous feeling. A feeling of awe. Bones stopped and jumped down and began walking in a direction. He didn’t know why, but he felt like this was the way to go. Emerging from the trees, Bones made his way back to his home. He would bathe, rest and prepare himself. _____ Bones eventually arrived, carrying Jho’s metal rods in his hands. He stopped briefly when he saw Sun-Dragon and stared a bit in wonderment. He had never seen Sun-Dragon without his armor before. While not expecting something beautiful, the scarred and burned man before him almost horrified the Tognath. There was obviously much history to his man. “I have heard that you have fancied yourself a hunter and a warrior. It is time to refine those skills into something befitting the Jensaarai Order.” Bones nodded. “I mean, I guess. I’m pretty good at boxing and I can aim a gun.” “You may take what you wish, but remember the way of the Jensaarai.” Sun Dragon continued. “Keep your mind open, remain in the moment, seek knowledge always, control your emotions lest they control you, remember what you have learned and what you have read.” Bones looked at the gear now at the center of the dirt. He could see his rifle. There was a brief feeling of disgust at it, as the sight of it brought back the memory of killing a child and an innocent man. The crime that Bones regretted instantly. Was Sun-Dragon indicating for Bones to use it again? “I don’t think I should...I can use that” Bones shook his head and looked up at Sun-Dragon. “And we both know you can toss me aside like a gnat when I try to punch you. So i’m gonna beat you up with this instead…” Bones chuckled as he brought the rods together and twisted them. During his rest, he had looked over the rods and noticed how there were grooves inside of them. Jho had to be either one expert craftsman, or knew one. It seemed that all of his rods were made to screw together in case of some fruit being so far out of reach of the lifters. Clever Ithorian. Bones gripped his now formed quarterstaff with both hands and braced himself against Sun-Dragon. He knew there was no way he could beat this man, but he would try. He had already given away his best advantage, but he couldn’t use the rifle. That wasn’t right. Bones moved forward and kicked a loose rock at the Sun-Dragon, seeing if he would react. Then he moved forward and, with most of his effort, tried to swing the metal staff like a club at the man.
  5. Yesterday
  6. With the focus on Aidan and Kashi, Aidan hastily ordered his men to advance to the assault shuttle at all costs, as it was their best hope of escape. With the Force, he levitated two bags of the credits, sending them hurtling towards the shuttle entrance. If he was to be at his best in this hornet's nest, he couldn't afford to be slowed down by them. A split second later the hairs on the back of his neck prickled, his senses giving him warning of the imminent attack by the Castellan, but he was in no position to do anything about it. The telekinetic energy sent him reeling, sliding across the street to slide to a nasty halt against a duracrete bench. He'd managed to twist himself to absorb most of the impact, but it still hurt. This was the work of the dark side, and it was high time Aidan took this threat seriously. For a brief moment there was a lull in the fighting as everyone in the area felt the young Darkfire delve into the Force, like a tone so deep it was felt rather than heard. The energies of the light swarmed to him, concentrating in his hand as he held it before him. Ghostly silver-white flames softly began flickering about him, manifesting from the intense density of Force energy. His voice cracked like thunder across the street as he walked forwards a few steps, taking an appropriate position. "Sith! I name you! Oppressor of the weak! Thief of virtue, scourge of the righteous! You have lost your way, and I will help you find it!" Aidan's hand shot forward to point at the Castellan, and from it poured an intense white-hot light, a supernatural jet of flame and water yet neither, the very essence of the energy of the light side, the Exorcist's flame. Aidan was not the judge of how it would affect the man, all reacted differently to the assault. The man would serve as his own judge. His own sins would damn him as he was confronted with them, but goodness and compassion in his heart would proportionately save him from the burning righteous wrath. Aidan's own hand began to burn, but he ignored the pain, it was the double edged sword of exorcism, the toll he paid for the right to exact such a punishing manipulation of light. This was all or nothing, and if he expected the rest of his men to survive it was a necessary maneuver, a price gladly paid. At the least, this would buy them the time they needed.
  7. Whatever stood before Nyrys was no Jedi. That much was apparent now. There was a sickness to her that felt unnatural even to Nyrys. Unlike the Sith, who mastered the Dark Side and used it to achieve their own goals, this thing was enthralled by the darkness, like some kind of zombie or rabid beast. “Clearly you are in pain,” Nyrys spoke in firm, measured words as she drew Gwn Marwolaeth, “Allow me to offer you some measure of peace.” The warrior adopted a boar’s tooth guard, right foot forward and blade angled downward. Advancing quickly but not at a full on charge, she moved towards the peripheral, ready to dart away or deflect an incoming attack as needed. The spear was a defensive weapon, and engaging an enemy required careful consideration, and foolishness was a great way to get skewered. So rather than charging in, Nyrys called upon her assassin training, fanning the flames of hunger and rage that she felt within her opponent. She was no stranger to either emotion, and ever since her first Force bond, with the Krath master Sheog, she had an intimacy with starved frenzy and the thrill of consuming others.
  8. Streets of Carannia With the area between the Jedi advance and the bank partially cleared of enemy forces by the removal of their cover and the grenades, Adenna could now focus on turning one of their flanks and shattering the entire line. It was by no means secure at this point, but that was what she was here for and once that was a safe one for the extraction of the team inside. Of course, the addition of two more Jedi behind their lines would make things quite interesting, but for now, they had yet to emerge from the bank so it would be her job to go in and get them. The Sith troopers had split, apart, but that didn't overly concern her because now she could deal with them piecemeal. Now that the enemy had split in two and effectively abandoned the center, she could divide then conquer. Adenna slammed the wrecked speeder down into the permacrete street keeping it propped up at an angle that would provide her and the four with her cover from one of the two divided flanks. Now, with only about half the firepower aimed at them, she could go on the offensive. She yelled for the four troopers to focus fire on the flank where two of the armored Sith troopers had relocated. Even as she did, one of them flew back with multiple blaster impacts in her chest, but that didn't alter the plan. Adenna was tired of this ranged fight, it was time to get up close and personal and end this in a way Jedi were best at. Gathering up the Force, she jumped and used it to carry her with great speed on a shallow arc straight at the enemy position. The move got her close, but it did come at a cost. With the constant stream of fire coming at her, she couldn't block everything. One bolt glanced along her medium armor and, while much of its bite was deflected or absorbed, enough still remained to scorch her rib cage under her left arm. Another dug into her right thigh where she was less armored. She cried out in pain as she landed beside the planter her foes were using as cover, but the battle instinct kept her moving even if the swing of her lightsaber at the armored troopers was thrown off. The nanites that flowed through her body quickly deadened her screaming nerves, but they would take time to start healing. She was where she wanted to be and with three others offering covering fire, but it had cost her and that was simply the price of war. Now that she was close, she aimed to use her Force enhanced speed and the glowing firebrand of a lightsaber to clear the Sith out. ((2))
  9. Watching his Master rise and hearing her words, Shiro grew confused. Was he not supposed to feast upon the emotions that surround him and use the power that he connected with as his own? Use the transference as a conduit of application? He was lost as his gaze fell upon the unraveling of the wound as the past became the present and the present the past, confliction both in himself and the planet that gave rise to him. Perplexed, he felt the power he held diminish, slipping out of his grasp like grains of sand. His anger bolstered, the feeling of failure washing over him with despair. If his strength came from within, what was the purpose of tantalizing him with such bait, begging for him to sample? What was the point of his sacrifice when the darkness claimed his arm if it was not meant to relish on pain and suffering, especially in others. Reaching up, Shiro grasped at his missing arm, the touch sending signals to each of its unburnt pain receptors. Shiro bellowed with pain, his voice rippling through the Force as his anger echoed from his gut in both displeasure and the pain of his stupidity. No matter what level he would rise to, whether upon his Homeworld, in the Arena, or even amongst the Sith, he would never truly rise above himself. His power, his skill, it was all for nought, wasted upon a mere murderer, a mere criminal with no truth of a future. Even now, he still relied upon others to further his advancements. Just like with Dunstan and Saldana. Just like with the others he slew. Just like the hollowed eyes he stared into. "Do what you wish to me!" Shiro spoke as he stepped aside Hayley and shook his fist toward the heavens, his anger toward the fates infuriating, his life just one joke after the other within their eyes. "I am nothing but a toy for you to play with anyways, a pawn made for nothing more than your war!" Yet, unbeknownst to him, as his anger grew against the Force, as his temper flared with his power, his own pain and injustice fueling his inner wrath at the hand life had dealt him, his power echoed stronger and more focused than it have before. Refined and uncharted, purity in it's own right as his skin steeled against the passing storm and his pain from loss of limb subsided away in his mind, Shiro stood firm and strong. "I'll be you're weapon!" Shiro cursed at the Force, still unaware at the rising tide of his inner power, his disdain at the life he had been handed nothing more than insignificant and his place in life minuscule at best. If that was all he would ever be, then so be it. "Nothing more, nothing less!"
  10. Leena Kil

    Corellia

    Squeaky voices cried out across all open channels as rambling threats of death and carnage crowded the comms. Aboard the Imperial Momship, Reaper Joe directed the swarms of needle ships forward following the spewing laser fire of their fellow rebels. Nothing would stop them! Seeing the swarms of his brethren fall like piranha beetles towards the enemy cruisers, the Imperial Momship turned it’s attention elsewhere. “Fire upon the bad doing baddie Sith and make them pay with much screaming pain and internal organ-grinding suffering of despair.” Turbolaser fire spewed forth from the once-Imperial, squirrel-like overrun vessel. “The pesky bothersome death gnat spewing toothless metal mouth will be slapped shut for all permanence eternally. Run quickly as much as your stubby abnormally shorty short waddle legs might carry pull you before the supreme rain of superior Squibian morally justified Imperial firepower send your legless desecrated badly boomed bodies back into the furthestmost great beginning reaches of time space.” The corvette-sized needle ships raced through the empty space towards their prey until the rambling monstrosity of an enemy ship moved to cut them off. With the attention span of a squirrel burying a nut beneath a koja nut tree before winter when nuts fell from the sky they changed their course. Turning their attentions to the new lumbering target, the Squibs screamed their battle cries. Lengthy rambling threats of ship and child disembowelment filled the airwaves around the Black Bracer. It was an added bonus to the flaying tractor beams that leapt from the ships’ maws to try and tear at the thick armored plating of the enemy. Like the koja nuts, the sweet core within would be laid bare, ripe for the devouring. ____________________________________ Independent Jedi/Imperial Support Force: Sairdonga Destroyer Group (Turbolasers) Task Force Experience: Green (1xp) MCS MC75-Class Star Cruiser: Imperial Momship Formally Known As Admiral Sairdonga |20/20| Independent Jedi/Imperial Support Force: Death Harvest Catchers Hellriders: Hit and Run Tactics Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-3-3-4-5 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10 |2/1| Independent Jedi/Imperial Support Force: Sith Eaters Hellriders: Hit and Run Tactics Squib Needle Ship: Sith 0-1 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 1-2 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 2-3 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 3-4 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 4-5 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 5-6 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 6-7 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 7-8 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 8-9 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 9-10 |2/1|
  11. The Black Bracer trundled forward, its engines flaring pale blue against its ugly black hull. The knobby, bulky vessel was a blot on the starfield, with only the thin, white slit of the bridge breaking the monotony of its face. Commander Jaden Jorus watched the rebel fleet from the viewport, arranging for an attack, chewing his lip and flexing his mechanical arm with the hiss of hydraulics every few seconds. "Commander," First Officer Malk broke in. "Several enemy cruisers are lining up an attack run on the cruisers. Scans indicate turbolaser batteries." "Orders from command?" "Unchanged." Jorus relaxed, held his silence for a few seconds, then said, "Full power to the engines. Aim a course directly for the enemy cruisers. Point-blank range." Malk, to his credit, didn't blanch at the order to fly the ship into superior firepower. He likely suspected what Jorus knew. They were the shield, not the sword. Turbolaser flashes filled Jorus's view as the enemy cruisers opened fire, the hulking Black Bracer blocking any effective attack run on the smaller and more nimble cruisers. Dull thuds and the hum of dissipating energy rang across the bridge as the shields withstood the bombardment. Still the ship kept on, steady in its advance on the enemy vessels. The bridge held an eerie silence, punctuated by the rhythmic cadence of the enemy blaster fire. Malk broke then spell when the enemy ships almost filled the viewport. "Approaching point-blank range in 7...6...5..." "Gunnery officer," Jorus said without taking his eyes from the enemy, "give them the teeth." The uniformed Gran nodded curtly and crisply spoke into his console. "Snub gunners! Deploy weapons! Prepare to fire on my mark!" Across the hull of the ship, the unsightly protuberances that gave the ship a cancerous look swiveled and opened to reveal short-range rail-guns. Barely able to adjust their aim by more than a few degrees in each direction, the stubby barrels of the cannons pointed out from the ship at whatever happened to cross their path. The shields of the old Bulwark Mk II were nearly a universal green hue as the bombarding turbolasers assaulted the ship that had recklessly piloted into their midst from every direction. "Do it." "Fire!" A cacophony of explosions erupted as the cannons fired, sending rounds of slag into the enemy shields. Seconds later they did it again, and the enemy responded with ever more turbolaser fire. "Commander! Corvettes have entered the battle zone!" A few officers gawked and swore. That cramped space between ships was a deathtrap. What captains would actually fly into such a hellscape? "Corvettes are...they're taking up positions along our flanks! They intend to penetrate our shields! Sir, our hull is strong enough to withstand them. Concentrating power to the forward shie-" "Belay that order First Officer. Full power to the flank guns." The pause was brief, but deafening. Commander Jorus had just ordered them to sacrifice some of their invaluable defensive power in this firestorm to punish some crazy corvette captains playing hero. "...Aye sir!" The flank cannons roared to life, tearing into the corvettes that had approached the rear of the ship. "Shields dropping commander!" Malk called. "Shields at...shields failed commander!" The barrage took on a new cadence as the blasts made direct contact with the reinforced hull. "Sir, corvettes are taking evasive maneuvers to avoid the flak and... Sir! Missile barrage from the Moon Beetle and Broken Bullet just made contact with one of the turbolaser cruisers! And the Goliath just focused its axial cannon on the same ship! It's shields are down! Scans indicate hull integrity close to failure!" Cheers came up around the bridge, but Jorus didn't change his grim expression. The rebels weren't going to run this time. Chunks of molten slag drifted across the nightmare of space between the Black Bracer and its enemies, some from corvette captains and fighter craft unlucky enough to be caught in the barrage, some sheared off the Black Bracer's own hull. "Fires on deck 2....and deck 3! Mess hall is venting vacuum!" Jorus ignored it. "Status on the missile cruisers." "A bombing run was detected and intercepted attempting to attack them." Jorus closed his eyes, already knowing the answer before he asked. "Their current heading?" Malk looked up, a mixture of disbelief and fear in his eyes. "Us. Sir." "All hands, brace for impact." Jorus's voice remained calm and even. This wasn't pirate raids or imp dodging. This was war, the bloodiest kind. Emotion had no place here. As his orders were relayed, he watched the incoming wings of bombers from the viewport. They soared over, almost close enough to read the personalized stamps the rebel pilots had marked them with. Then a new, deep thudding added itself to the percussive orchestra of death only meters away through layers of durasteel. "Commander! Taking damage on all levels! Rear passage 1-3 is-" "Just put it on the screen First Officer. There's no need to shout." Outside, half melted lumps of durasteel, the skin that protected the crew of the Black Bracer from the enemy so intent on their death, rolled past. Jorus flexed his arm.
  12. Leena Kil

    Scarif

    Leena tensed slightly as the woman moved to embrace her. She did not resist, but her mind raced as she tried to comprehend everything. This woman had been on Mon Cal with her. Sandy indicated it had not been a fight that she could win. Maybe she was right. Maybe together they, three Jedi women, could return someday to Mon Cal and right the wrongs wrought there. Offering a smile to T’ali’au Leena stepped back to take in the distant derelict that was apparently the source of their mission; to stop some looming disaster. “What happened out there?” The girl whispered aloud. “This world is so beautiful, so peaceful. How did that thing come to spoil it?”
  13. Terra

    Corellia

    Terra and 5 Deathwatch Tactical NPCs (contracted under the Rebel Alliance) vs The Nightsister, Qaela The HUD of the former Mandalore flashed the deep crimson of warning as the Sith’s AT-ST began to fire indiscriminately throughout the Capital’s Thoroughfare. A blackened jet of earth washed through her viewscreen as the walker made a nearby hit and the HUD refocused out to 2 X magnification. The Sith was marked and highlighted with an orange glow on the HUD, indicating a HVT, which was brought to greater attention by the backwash of the crimson blade the Sith held. Hades and Setapoite designated the targets in magnitude of danger, with the Sith as highest priority, outlined in orange on the HUD, followed by yellow for the AT-ST, and finally purple for the dozens of troops in the Sith’s platoon of soldiers. The Combat AIs began to assign suggested targets to the group, based on their loadout. The squad’s comlinks began to cycle through the encoded frequencies, to evade whitenoise. Terra began to track the Sith through her HUD as the Mandalorian began to angle herself to make the Sith’s approach as harrowing as possible. Her mind turned to her training under Piccalo and reinforced by Lord Ar-Pharazon when she had hunted the members of the Jedi Council; called in those days the POSLWJK, the Protocols On Select Loadouts With Jedi Knights. It had been a hard-fought lesson when trying to eliminate force users; keep your distance and terminate them with weaponry that made force usage difficult. The former Mandalore whistled out a command in her fiery tongue. “Atiniir” The word was Mando’a for “To Endure” but it was also the Deathwatch code for the execution of an L-Shaped ambush, an oft-practiced military technique which enabled the smaller group of Mandalorians to have a fighting chance against the Sith’s familiar numbers. It allowed for the Deathwatch units to maximize their weaponry along the longest firing axis ***** NPC ACTIONS: HARJAV FIELDGREY ***** To Terra’s left, Harjav selected his CSPL-12 Projectile Launcher and made a mad dash further to her left, picking his way amongst the wreckage of the Sith’s assault on the Capital. Once in a dead-run, the Mandalorian brought up the weapon, while the HUD gave him his nearly straight firing angle. Leveling the firing arc onto the head of the AT-ST, the Mandalorian fired the impact-primed Thermal Detonator, which left the barrel at 290 meters per second, which was angled for the viewport of the AT-ST. KA-CHUNK The Mandalorian, Harjav Fieldgrey dove into the smoking grass and racked the projectile launcher’s slide, inserting another thermal-detonator into the launcher’s tube. He hoped his attack would be successful against the Sith’s walker, but fate was seldom kind. ***** NPC ACTIONS: AORN AND BAS’AR ***** Far to Terra’s right, the twins Aorn and Bas’ar maintained their cover of the shattered granite pillars and began to engage their target; the platoon of Sith Troopers. The Chiss Mandalorians checked their XAB-32 Heavy Charrics one final time before bringing themselves to a more vulnerable half-standing position. Raising their rifles, they began placing precise automatic maser fire into the Sith Platoon. They were prepared to run or ignite their jetpacks should they be targeted, but they were eager to put down the Sith threat. ***** NPC ACTIONS: ARNA AND LONGKRA ***** Behind the squad, nestled in the wrecked maglift, the sisters Arna and Longkra, along with their Combat-AI Setapoite maintained their tracking orders. They were tasked with tracking the Sith, and to engage when ready. Arna watched the Sith’s advance through the scope of her Istiglal IST-14.5 anti-materiel rifle, while Longkra called out targeting data into the chat with Setapoite’s voice. The rifle was sighted in to 1000 meters, while weather and gravitational data was taken in by Terra’s combat analysis unit in the field. “Breaching 1500 meters, up one, wind two knots from the southeast, tailwind, left three.” Arna slipped all emotion from her mind, removing the feelings of malice as she had been trained. Her finger took up the slack in the trigger as the targeting reticle bobbed over the target. She kept her breathing to a normal as she waited for Terra to engage. ***** PC ACTION: TERRA ***** Behind the cover of the burned-out tank, Terra minimized the squad readouts with a blink, waiting for her prey to step out of concealment, which she did, surrounded by her black-clade cadre. The crimson blade was the giveaway, a mere distraction for her mind. They were still at distance enough to give her little concern, but she knew Sith could cover distances swiftly, but this one was slowed down by her insistence of staying among soldiers without the blessings of the force. A chime indicated Hades’ location nearby. Center of Mass. With her slugthrower resting on its bipod, supported by the shattered repulsar-engine, Terra instinctually closed one eye, taking in the full view of the Sith Lord. Something was familiar about the woman. With the slack already out of the trigger, and the reticle displayed on her HUD, Terra breathed out a small sigh of contentment and sent a three-round burst of AP slugs speeding towards the Sith’s chest. ((1))
  14. Last week
  15. The smell of the sea was heavy on T’ali’au, and Sandy was comforted by its scent as she gratefully accepted the hug. It had been years since she had seen the other woman, but their friendship seemed as fast as they had kept in touch during the intervening years. It was an embarrassment that she had not been back sooner, but though she could likely list a hundred reasons why as an excuse, it was nice to see that her friend bore no grudge. She released the hug and let a frown cover her face for a moment before she let it slide away. “I wish that I had been on Mon Calamari, but the force did not let me, and it appears that even if I was there I could not have stopped the grievous losses we incurred. Tell me of your people, how are they faring and the reactor?” She kept a hand, the hand that had been replaced by T’ali’au, on the woman’s shoulder, her emerald eyes looking into the violet expanses of the Falleens. “I brought the help that I could, and from the smell.” She took another breath, basking in the force. “We came before complete disaster. ” She gestured to the sea where the fallen destroyer lay. Its dark presence beckoning to her.
  16. Fieldgrey

    Cathar

    Perhaps I was too eager to see if he was different… Fieldgrey watched her apprentice consume, driven like a hungry beast to feast upon her offering. He was not her first apprentice to fail her tests, but unlike Lucifer, she would not kill him for his lack of wisdom. Her voice was soft as she spoke, and even whipped by the wind the purring subtleties of malice was unmistakable “You wished to show me the power you have taken… But that power is not your own. It is not driven by your strength.” The Sith Lord whirled from her cross-legged position, scattering seafoam and crimson sand about her. In an eyeblink she was standing before her apprentice, the storm at her back. He was taller than her, but she was far from intimidated. She placed a scarred hand on his chest, feeling the beating heart beneath thumping against her palm. “It is a hollow gift, the strength of the another, and one that will consume you as you devour it. The power you feel is that of an ouroboros, ever starving and only able to consume itself…” Her nailbitten fingers slid across his ribcage, and she opened herself fully to the storm. Before it had been but the pull of the even horizon, and now they had passed beyond its rim. If her apprentice was to be saved from this place, she had to make a sacrifice. She would be its conduit. Her voice became faint, “What you have shown me is not the power to conquer the galaxy, instead… you show me how the galaxy will die.” The world fractured. The Sky fell into shadow and evaporated like dust upon the wind. Stars reached their hands for them, but they too fell into darkness, becoming the crying shots of turbolaser fire, ripping through the atmosphere. The ocean began to boil about them, and the death of millions echoed about the pair. The wound in the force was unravelling. “Strength that is not your own is useless. That is the wisdom of strength.” ((OOC: Failure is the path of every apprentice. Take the next post to learn this lesson. Refocus yourself upon fostering what is within you; build your strength again but from the ground up. You will start with no power at all, as the inherent power of this place has disappeared. You have nothing but the pain from your missing arm.))
  17. Godfrey's eyes narrowed to grey slits as he watched the outcome of the first nearly futile charge. __________________________________________________ Combined Fleet Group under the Command of Godfrey d'Outremer Rebel Alliance Destroyer Group [Turbolasers] |Alexei| Taskforce Experience Veteran (2xp) LC-Belarus Medium Cruiser Novarch Ackbar |0/3| LC-Belarus Medium Cruiser Novarch Sikaot |9/6| Rebel Alliance Precision Strike Carrier Group |Anastasia| Taskforce Experience Green (1xp) TSC-Tapani Class Frigate Eleanor |3/3| DP20 Corvette Nantes |2/1| DP20 Corvette Rennes |2/1| DP20 Corvette Saint-Anslem|0/0| DP20 Corvette Saint-Marie |0/0| TSC-Tapani-class cruiser-carrier Vexille |9/9| Rebel Alliance Rapid Intervention Escort: Timely Response |Seraphim| Taskforce Experience Green (1xp) KDY Victory II-class Star Destroyer Red Hussar |9/9| KDY Victory II-class Star Destroyer Silent Spring |9/9| __________________________________________________ Combined Fleet Group under the Command of Leena Kil Rebel Alliance Destroyer Group [Turbolasers] |Sairdonga| Task Force Experience: Green (1xp) MCS MC75-Class Star Cruiser: Imperial Momship |20/20| Rebel Alliance Hellriders: |Death Harvest Catchers| Task Force Experience: Green (1xp) Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-3-3-4-5 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11 |0/0| Squib Needle Ship: Catcher 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12 |0/0| Rebel Alliance Hellriders: |Sith Eaters| Task Force Experience: Green (1xp) Squib Needle Ship: Sith 0-1 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 1-2 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 2-3 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 3-4 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 4-5 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 5-6 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 6-7 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 7-8 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 8-9 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 9-10 |2/1| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 10-11 |0/0| Squib Needle Ship: Sith 11-12 |0/0| __________________________________________________ Combined Fleet Group under the Command of Kyrie Eleison Imperial Knight Expeditionary Destroyer Group: Turbolasers |Deimos| Task Force Experience: Green (1xp) Nova-Class Cruiser Ascalon |9/9| Nova-Class Cruiser Edessa |6/9| Imperial Knight Expeditionary Light Defensive Escort: Suppressing Fire |Phobos| Task Force Experience: Green (1xp) Star Galleon-Class Frigate Clermonte |3/3| Vengeance-Class Frigate Chartres |3/3| Interceptor-Class Frigate Francorum |3/3| Consular-Class Frigate Tancred |3/3| Sphyrna-Class Corvette Guiscard |2/1| Sphyrna-Class Corvette Dorylaeum |2/1| Paladin-Class Corvette Yağısıyan |2/1| Free Virgilla-Class Corvette Alexandretta |2/1| Rebel Alliance Lend-Lease Precision Strike: Carrier Group |Enyo| Taskforce Experience: Veteran (2xp) Quasar Fire-class Cruiser-Carrier Azincourt |0/9| CR-90 Corvette Maelstrom |2/1| CR-90 Corvette Languedoc |2/1| CR-90 Corvette Vivarais |2/1| DP20 Corvette Coeur d’Lion |2/1| DP20 Corvette Augustus |2/1| DP20 Corvette Hussar |2/1|
  18. Fleet Actions Outcome: Round One For a brief moment as the two fleets meet and come into range, there is nothing: a calm before the storm. Each side waits for the opening move to act, hoping to capitalize on a misstep of the other. But both sides understand that time wasted is also a double edged sword, and the commanders quickly fall back on their instincts and training. Like a practiced waltz, both sides spring into action, and the first blows are struck. Immediately the Rebel task forces Phobos and Seraphim move to provide cover for the Sith Eaters and Death Harvest Catchers, respectively, allowing the Hellriders to push their deadly assault. Simultaneously, the Minotaur takes up a point position of intercepting defense in front of the Goliath, and the Black Bracer and the Veil of Shadows task force takes up similar positioning to defend the missile destroyer group consisting of the Moon Beetle and Broken Bullet. As the maneuvers start, the Rebels strike the first punch, their hellriders surging forward to harass the enemy missile group, but barely manage to get a few long range shots off before the defensive posturing of the Black Bracer intercepts their attack vector and cuts them off, Taking advantage of the close attack run to severely punish their numbers, culling two corvettes from each group. This was the hellriders' suicidal ploy, however, as the cruisers of the Alexei and Deimos task forces open fire, using the cover of the hellriders' maneuver to full advantage to target the capital ship in their way, now forced to redirect their onslaught to it instead of their original prey. The Black Bracer is no slouch to this punishment, their well trained gunnery crews returning fire to each of these threats in turn, who were slightly caught off guard from this bold maneuver at the outset. They were forced to make do with the original plan of attack, and the Bracer takes full advantage of that to punish them in kind. In all the initial confusion of these first moments, the Sith flagship Goliath opens fire with its axial weapon on the cruisers of task force Alexei. It winds up dealing a powerful blow that cracks the shields of one of the cruisers, synergizing with the fire it received from the Black Bracer. Immediately after, the first salvo from the Sith missile group cruisers impacts the same ship, near crippling it. At this time, Rebel interceptors begin harassing the larger enemy fleet vessels across the battlefield, interfering with Sith starfighter attack runs. Almost unnoticed, one Sith cruiser slips away from this formation amid the carnage, circling to flank the Rebel ships and beginning to line up an optimal strike against a less defended side of a Rebel element. Distracting from this, the railgun capital ship on the other side of the formation opens up against the Rebel carrier group, peppering them with intense fire. As it does so, a Rebel capital ship similarly opens fire with a hailstorm of turbolaser fire at the Sith carrier group, with both targets suffering relatively equally initially, but immediately after Rebel bombers break through Sith lines to bombard the carrier group in support of their capital ship's assault, scoring several hits below their maximum potential due to half of them being forced off by fire from the group's frigate before retreating back to the Rebel lines. A similar coordinated bomber skirmish is attempted against the Sith missile group, but is easily fended off from the nimble frigate fire of light escort ships behind the Black Bracer. Two of the Rebel commanders took note of the Sith stealth cruiser breaking formation and activating its stealth technology, and though they begin cycling censor sweeps of the battlefield they are unable to pick up on any trace of it being there. Finally, the Sith bombers are able to take their runs on the Alexei and Enyo task forces, with the latter forces being triple the numbers of the former and the attack run on Alexei unfettered by corvettes. The opening moves have been made, the bells of war ringing loud in the silence of space. But this is just the beginning. GENERAL FLEET ACTIONS: Sith: The Battle Line Escort group (Minotaur) moves to defend (escort) the Sith Flagship (Goliath) The Hammer and Anvil group (Black Bracer) and the Light Defensive Escort (Veil of Shadows) moves to defend the missile group (Moon Beetle and Broken Bullet) Rebels: The Light Defensive Escort (Phobos) moves to defend and support Hellriders (Sith Eaters) The Rapid Intervention Escort (Seraphim) moves to defend and support Hellriders (Death Harvest Catchers) SITH BATTLE DAMAGE: Incoming Starfighter damage: Sith Carrier Task Force (Typhoon) Damage: 2 OR 6 damage (2x Bombers inbound from task force Anastasia, frigate would take 2 damage or the carrier would take 6 (FAST ACTION)) Hammer and Anvil Task Force (Black Bracer) Damage: 8 HULL damage (2x Bombers inbound from Enyo (Veteran ability increases damage by 1, but forced redirect drops it back down by 1), normal Bombers inbound (forced redirect drops damage by 1) (FAST ACTION)) Incoming Task Force Damage: Carrier Task Force (Typhoon) Damage: 6 damage (Sairdonga capital ship turbolasers) Hammer and Anvil Task Force (Black Bracer) Damage: 16 (2x Alexei turbolaser cruisers with hellrider buff) + 16 (2x Deimos turbolaser cruisers with hellrider buff) - 2 (Multiple task forces attacking penalty) = 30 damage REBEL BATTLE DAMAGE: Incoming Task Force Damage: Alexei Damage: 3 (Black Bracer veteran ability) + 6 (Goliath Axial Weapon) + 8 (2x missile cruiser salvos) - 2 (Multiple task forces attacking penalty) = 15 damage Deimos Damage: 3 damage (Black Bracer veteran ability) Sith Eaters Damage: Two destroyed corvettes (Black Bracer returning focus fire) Death Harvest Catchers Damage: Two destroyed corvettes (Black Bracer returning focus fire) Rebel Carrier Task Force (Anastasia): 6 damage (Argent Scythe railguns) Incoming Starfighter Damage: Alexei Damage: 3 HULL damage (Bombers inbound (DELAYED), no corvette support) Enyo Damage: 9 damage (3x Bombers inbound (DELAYED)) Mod Note: A reminder that commanders can choose which ship incoming damage goes to (assuming multiple ships in a task force or accompanying escort(s)), and task force damage is treated separately from starfighter damage for the decision making process. Assuming two ships in a task force, commanders can have incoming task force damage go to one ship and starfighter damage go to another, HOWEVER once that choice has been made it is locked in for future damage of that type. This was the intent of the rules, and while I wasn't able to find it stated explicitly in the rules I am calling it to be the standard for the duration of this combat. Choose who takes what damage wisely. Additionally, bombers inbound states that their cap is reduced by one for every frigate present, this means that the frigates automatically tank that damage for their task force or any task forces they're escorting and reduce it to one (unless other factors apply). Edit: Okay, I was super confused over how bombers work, and their governing rules are not centralized in the ruleset at all. Apparently there is a simple hard cap of how many bombers inbound actions are allowed versus any one TF (3), and frigates reduces that cap by 1 per frigate in the TF or any escorting TF. If too many bombers attack (i.e. frigates move in to support/escort), then the attacking commander can choose where to redirect that attack and those redirected attacks get reduced by 1 damage. Commanders still decide which ships in a task force take the damage as outlined above, but if they have frigates available to take those attacks they can soak the damage with them pretty easily. Bombers inbound damage can never be applied to corvettes as they are not valid targets, excess damage is lost if the only remaining ships are corvettes. Like normal, starfighter damage applies fully to one ship before spilling over to the next, if able.
  19. T’ali’au couldn’t believe it, not only had Sandy returned, but one of the Jedi from Dac was with her. Finally having the opportunity to see the Jedi directly, she realized that the woman was a Mon Calamari. She must have slipped away during the chaos and swum out the same way that T’ali’au had. “It is so wonderful to see both of you again! Yes, I was on Mon Cal recently, my people sent me to try and enlist the Mon Cal’s aid in dealing with our troubles, but when I had arrived everything was already in chaos. I tried to do what I could, but regretfully I was outmatched. Perhaps in time once the ocean is healed my people can aid yours in saving your world from the Poison.” T’ali’au hugged both of them deeply, both because she was not familiar with the concept of personal space and because they were ridiculously warm and it was fantastic. Seriously, hugging warm blooded species was like being wrapped in a sun baked blanket on a cold day.
  20. Wake up... wake up... Wake...UP! ... Yava sat-up in the bed. Her body being monitored by a medical droid that was startled by her sudden awakening. So the kindly Jedi had deposited her here, a medical ward. So kind, it made her want to wretch. Her body still injured, from the climatic clash, she attempted to get up. "Miss... your wounds have not yet healed. It is imperative that you-" "Where am I... what happened to the ship? Did we-" Yava tried to ask, her words choked by a seemingly clouded mental stated. She felt better then she had in a while, and she wondered just what the Jedi had done to her when she was unconscious. "Kern?" She asked pleadingly as if worried about his return. Yava knew that we as there, deep within, simply biding his time. She couldn't know if her actions were her own, or his, but she knew that the longer she remained that the more danger she was in. "Who... who are you?" She demanded finally. The droid bleeped in recognition and spoke. "I am C4-ZedY, you may call me Zed. You are in the medical ward, level 3 alpha, secured wing." The tall silver and gray droid had a vaguely female voice. "Secured? Am I... being watched?" Yava asked directly, noticing a security droid in the corner keeping an eye on her. IT was clear that the Jedi were taking no chances. "Due your interactions with the Sith your movements and actions are to be monitored, and your code access restricts you from-" "I want to speak to whoever is in charge... I have to leave." she said barked, but her body refused to full stand, and so she sat back down. "I'm sorry but at this time, no representative is available. I will put through your request though. Be aware, protocol dictates that you be monitored for as long as you are here." Zed sad as he moved on to the next bed, and then to the medical lab beyond. Yava sat down as she heard a discussion from two other patients, young padawans or soldiers, she wasn't sure which. "-a full blown master... hasn't been a new one of those in a while." the younger one said with an air of pride. "Sarna huh, wonder how she pulled that off. I mean to be a master don't you have to accomplish some great feat... like-" "I heard she killed a Sith lord out there, whole army of droids too!" "No way." the second youth responded incredulously. "Makers' word it's true." the younger soldier said as he began to regale the other with a clearly 5th hand account that wasn't even half true. Yet the appointment of Sarna as a master truly stuck with her. It was like someone had jabbed a jagged piece of metal in her eye. 'Sarna' had slain Kern, she knew it now as if she had been there for it. "They reward failure, and punish true greatness." Yava said under her breath. Yava laid back down... something in her making her angry. Something buried deep within, In an instant she had a vision of decapitating the two insolent peons' for daring to... "Yava... you're awake! The crews been worried sick." The form and outfit of one of her crew-mates came into view. Yava smiled, doing her best to swallow the bitter hatred that was attempting to pull through. She had to leave this place, and soon.
  21. Solus

    Korriban

    As the group traveled across the landscape, Solus relished the sights and sounds around him. However, what truly fascinated him was the feeling. The feeling of something great. Powerful. Similar to the feeling that Solus had when the group first landed on the planet, only more powerful. It was like a churning feeling of water and mud. And they were going towards the center of the source. Tear suddenly jerked up and growled. Solus glanced at his hound, expecting a threatening pose or something similar. But was surprised to see that Tear wasn’t bearing his teeth. Instead he was leaning forward as much as possible, and sniffing heavily. Solus understood instantly. He was familiar with this place. Not in a personal sense, but in an instinctual sense. Solus didn’t know Tear’s history, but he guessed that the hound’s own familial history began here, long ago. “Heh, good Tear. Perhaps your wounds will heal faster here…” Solus reached up and attempted to stroke Tear’s neck. The hound instead snapped at the finger. Solus flicked Tear’s nose and continued slithering with the group. At the hut, Solus looked at Lady Sirena intently, studying her form. Once inside, Solus laid Tear down and coiled around him. "Tell me...What is your greatest passion, your greatest sin?" The question perplexed Solus. Greatest passion? His greatest sin? “I...I do not know. I have not yet committed any sins. I do not know my passions except to serve Lord Roshan.” Solus looked at Roshan, expecting an answer from him that might illuminate his own answer.
  22. Fynn Relmis

    Korriban

    “AWAKE! You slogs!” the bellowing voice of the foreman called the various slaves to another day of excruciating labor deep in the bowels of Korriban. Various barely clothed figures rose from their places and began the trudge back to the unforgiving grind of mindless work. Kern stood with them, and made his way to the same spot he had been assigned. He grabbed the black and gray face-mask meant to lessen the dust collecting in his lungs. These were in short supply, and only the most vicious and capable slaves kept them. He had killed twice already simply to breath, and so each day bled into the next, a horrific struggle for survival that never ended. Finally returning to the tunnel and his workplace, he found his mark and began to hammer. Ping…crack Each strike made a small part of the rock face shatter, and the sound of his heavy blows rang down the tunnel he and his fellow slaves continued to create. Now and then weaker beings, smaller humanoids, and various other prisoners would approach to pick up the remnants of ore and rocks and cart them away. Kern angled the hammer, his tall perfectly built form covered in the black dust of the minerals of the mine. The only light in the dark place was the hastily assembled red lighting on the floor powered by the limited powercells that had to be manually recharged every morning. Ping…crack The torturous work was accompanied by the bellows of pain and anguish of the suffering of the workers, some who had been here since birth, others who had lost all memory of why they were confined to this existence. Others still whispered of escape, but these were weeded out, their fates cruel, and their demise quick and quiet, or loud and bloody. The force had gradually returned to Kern, but using it seemed pointless, his will lacking purpose. Ping…crack With every blow to the surface, Kern’s mind focused ever sharper on his reason, his reason to continue, his reason to remain, his reason to not be one of those whose life was sacrificed to the madness around him. He watched as young slave girl ground away at the manual charging station, sweat dripping from her brow, dropping slowly to the ground below. Why did she persist, what animated her? Why- Ping…crack Faces came to him, floating above him in the red clouds of dust each larger than the last, taunting his mind. Their faces were not empathetic, they were judges, condemners, revilers. He hated them, they fired his soul with animus, and each breath he took, each blow he made, he found the anger and rage grew. The memories he had, hazy and clouded, were filled with suffering, with grand designs, and disastrous falls. Always he would fail, again, and again, he would lose all… only to rebuild. Ping…crack He had been someone… something… something powerful. He knew it, each night he slept the dreams told him as much. Yet it was beyond him, as if part of a history forever lost to him. In the long night watches, the slaves often spoke to themselves, their nightmares intruding into the waking world. They spoke of lost loves, lost planets, lost peoples, lost lives… despair filled them, desperate ravaging fears that caused some to cry out. This was not Kern however. Ping…crack Kern envied them, for where they had dreams …he had the void. The endless all-knowing void at the end of all things. He felt as if had known it firsthand. The void was alive, it was there at the end of all things. It spoke to him, called to him, beckoned him. IT needed to be fed, the void was endless, it had moods, it had desires… and when he slept… it communed with him. His will too, returned to him. A will that every day grew stronger, fed by the immense energies of Korriban, fed by the great darkness. Ping…crack It could not be satiated. It always needed more, and no matter what he did, the darkness would call it insufficient. Was this what had maneuvered him to return? Was it not the animating force behind the darkness? Everything he had done had sent ever more things into its’ gaping maw. It was becoming clearer… the darkness was not his enemy. No, IT was his true friend, his truest master. The rage, the anger, the hate… all of it was impotent in the clarity of its’ aims. It animated himself beyond the mere purpose. Something of himself was returning, growing stronger with each passing moment. A vision of pure power drove him ever onward. Ping…crack A small stone that was different then the rock face fell before him. It had been embedded here by something. A force that attempted to bury deep and keep it hidden. The stone still had writing... written in the sith language, a tongue that Kern did not yet remember. He attempted to read it, stirring a whisper in the back of his mind: Hâsk Qo Shâsot Qo Tyûk Midwan He pocketed the tablet, there was more to be deciphered... The darkness was not to be ignored, rather it was to be embraced, worshiped, and given tribute, proper tribute that he could not offer here. The darkness could not be given its desire here, and Kern realized all at once that his time in toil was not meant for the banal existence of mining. “Hey, give me that stone little man.” Kern turned to see a larger slave approaching him, a brute of a man one whose tone was a clear threat. Kern dropped the heavy metal tool, and sighed. This was not his place. … “You there… get back to work!” the four armed foreman said as he approached dressed in a long grey cape, and large heavy boots. The body of the large worker lay prone on the ground, and it did not respond to the electro-whip applied by the foreman. Kern approached, his eyes glowing brightly red in the dark red glow of the cave. “No.” He said simply, and walked by dropping the second body on the ground. Had taken the large slaves food portion as well as other items he’d stolen from the weaker beings present. “Stop or I’ll-“ the man seemed to want control Kern, brandishing the whip with malicious intent. “Raise your hand in anger to me, and I will use that whip to strangle you where you stand, then throw you into the deepest hole I can find.” Kern said bluntly, pausing only to see if the man would dare. The foreman visibly gulped, realizing that Kern was not a meek and defeated slave whose mind was shattered or half removed. He stepped back, clutching the fresh oxygen mask, as he did so. “Now, which way to the surface?” The foreman pointed, fear rising, as Kern’s mere presence inspired the feeling of dread and despair to rise. Kern approached, ripping the cloak from him, then looking at his boots. The man quickly removed them, then cowered in fear. “Good. Carry on.” Kern said as he passed by, retrieving the shoes as he did so. … The surface of Korriban was windswept, and hot. The orange and red glow from the sun and dust was omnipresent, yet Kern found it’s view to be less then interesting. He reached out as he trudged along, his connection with the force growing stronger. He could sense the various beings in the valleys and tombs in his surroundings. The valley was dotted with broken monuments and craters, the spot of a great battle, from a time of ancient war. Covered now in the ragged cape, Kern hiked on, alone, his only companions his driving indomitable will, and the howl of the angry wind. He moved toward a particularly strong source, seeking the vision his mind had called him too. The time had come to regain his path, to reclaim that which he had lost, to fulfill the call of the darkside, or die in the attempt. He would become Sith, or fall to nothing. But who or what would teach him? The question lingered. However Kern did not fear the uncertainty, he embraced it. The great darkness still awaited him, and he would accomplish his destiny, no matter the cost.
  23. As Shiro sat there in his struggle, both inward and outward as the storm within matched the storm around. The friction of his mind against the Force that flowed through him matched that only of the friction that his form fought against nature, both feverish and growing. Shiro could feel it, his weakness against it as his mind fought against it, similar to one's antibodies fought against a virus or disease, and yet he kept fighting. His bronze skin only reddened even more as sweat began to bead against his warmed body, the internal struggle reaching its peak. Only when he heard the cracking of bones and felt the life force leave the man's body did he lessen his struggle and open his crimson and gold gaze, it shifting upon the disfigured form. This power, it was addictive, his craving growing more at its knowledge. But it was hard to temper, to control. As he applied more will against the Force, so did the Force will against him. And for a brief moment, it felt almost pointless to defy, like one's second nature amidst his true nature. He almost thought to give in. At least until the taste.... “Will you consume, or turn away?” It was a tantalizing sensation, to feel the essence she presented. Like a substance that provided nutrient, he could feel the hunger grow as his soul ached to nibble. His mind salivated, a small brush of his thoughts licking upon the nutrient as his soul growled to feast. And in that moment, Shiro's nature gave in and he grasped at the essence ravenously. It was in that moment that he felt true power, his hunger met only by his wrath, a mixture of the two rolling into his will as the Force bowed before him. And it was that moment the truth was revealed. As the shackles of his will and the Force broke, freeing his mind and soul as one, Shiro could feel his control grow. He could feel his Mastery over the Force harden, an iron fist wielding what he fought so hard against. Through the passions of others, through the selfishness and sins of others in their final moments, his wrath and hunger became one, and his will would be done as the storm became his own. As his chaotic gaze stared into the abyss, he saw his own reflection, for the abyss was he, shimmering against the flashes of light. Feeling the Force be willed, he felt his skin tighten and harden against the wind and debris, the once abusive storm growing powerless against his form. He could feel his power surging through his veins, his once heated form growing cooler like stone against the waves. Standing against the remaining onslaught that lingered, he came to his feet and stood like cliff face, sturdy and unwavering, his gaze staring into the lifeless eyes lingering before him as he devoured the chaos that remained in limbo. "Such power, such control. I must have more."
  24. Whump, whump, whump…. Three days later, Captain Bryce found herself stomping towards one of the airlocks of Wrecking Machine, clad in an armored zero-gravity jumpsuit. Heavy and bulky, it was all that the tall Bespinian could do in the rubbery suit to simply place one foot in front of the other and occasionally duck her head under one of the lower girders of the Mando-built warship. Whump, whump, whump. The jumpsuit was not elegant in the slightest. Bryce felt as though she was wearing a set of tires around her entire body--and in essence she was. These suits were typically favored by the shipbreakers and dockworkers of Nar Shaddaa, whose work took them onto the hulls and into the interiors of damaged ships. That was a ludicrously dangerous environment and required heavy protection just against the jagged surfaces of ruptured durasteel hulls. Lacking armor-grade plastoid, the solution to the many hazards faced by these workers was armorweave padding--lots and lots of padding. Whump, whump, whump. That was, of course, not including the weight of the magnetized boots, air supply, environmental controls, thrusters (both repulsors and gas-jet motors), fuel supply, batteries, and comms gear that the suit also carried--all armored and proofed against the temperature extremes of space, of course. And that would increase further once Bryce carried a full combat load of weapons, and still further with the explosives that entry into a ship would require. This arrangement, at best, was suboptimal. And every step inside the artificial gravity of a ship felt like a long, exhausting slog. Eventually, however, Bryce made her way to airlock four on the port side of the Neo Kandosii-class Dreadnought. Despite the exertion, the environmental systems of the suit kept her from sweating. Johanna glanced upwards and switched on the suit’s comlink systems with her teeth. “Bridge, Bryce at airlock Pesh-four. Go ahead and cycle her, I’m ready.” “Right you are, Cap,” Came an Agamarian drawl in her ears. Somehow the woman managed to speak without a single consonant and the vowels just leaned on top of each other. “Have fun out there, y’ear?” “Uh, yes. Thank you. Might be out of contact for a bit, it’s rough space out in the docks.” Wind rushed around the bulbous zero-gravity suit as the airlock cycled and the remaining air in the chamber was vented into the vacuum of space. As the airlock doors opened, Johanna squinted and held a hand in front of her face against the glare of Nal Hutta’s star. The suit’s faceplate soon darkened to protect against the glare. The Talon then took a test step past the threshold of the ship’s airlock, and felt… Nothing. Nothing for hundreds of kilometers. Johanna found herself sweating despite the coolness of the suit. She kept her eyes focused on her destination approximately twenty kilometers into the distance, where a blunt-bladed dagger lay suspended over Nar Shaddaa, little lights of torches and controlled explosions flashing over the length of its massive hull. Engaging her suit’s thrusters, Bryce began to make her way to the riven hulk that had once been Medusa, the flagship of the Mandalorian Crusader fleet.
  25. Sunset, along the winding streets of Lessu, the shadows grew long; amongst them darted a solitary figure. Form shadow to shadow, recessed alcove to balcony overhang the wraithe-like being moved. She was intent on not being seen or tracked by anyone or anyrhing. Only a block further now and her quarry would be within her grasp. There were a few early patrons already stumbling around outside. It was not hard to flip up and over them in the dark alley-like winding street between tall imposing spires. Slipping through the door, the armored spy was inside with her quarry in sight. Her gray cloak fluttered behind her as she disappeared into the dimly lit cantina. Scanning the facility, the woman overlooked the common rabble until her eyes settled on the teenager behind the bar. “Bingo,” she hissed cheerfully as she lightly stepped and twirled through the crowd. Several twi’leki and humans were already gyrating on the worn stained and all too tiny dance floor. With a cat-like elegance, she slid between them and slid onto a stool at thar bar. With her brown hair tucked behind her ears and her blue warrior’s tattoos on her face, The Malia was the visage of a huntress of old; her sleek light Sith inspired armor rimmed with furs beneath her cloak completing the ensemble. Waving her hand to get the bartenders attention, the warrioress offered a genuinely warm smile. There she was, Serenity Vowler, seventeen year old native of Ryloth who frequently made runs to Corellia. The Malia had been watching her from afar for weeks trying to determine is she was a suitable mark. Finally, she had decided to approach her and make the girl an offer, an offer to change her the course of life, change her story, make a difference in the galaxy and not become a casualty of the looming chaos of Corellia. It all started here, now, with a smile a wave and a drink order. “Heya stranger, when you get a break I’d love a Corellian tapcafe if you’ve got some. Maybe two. One for you, one for me? I’ll be over there when you find the time.” She had all night. She would sit there all night if she had to, to show Serenity how serious she was. Slipping from her stool, The Malia moved with grace and poise through the cantina to a middle booth along the back wall. Here she could keep an eye on the bar and on the door. Safety first.
  26. Qaela

    Corellia

    𝔊𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔬𝔰 𝔘𝔫𝔣𝔲𝔯𝔩𝔢𝔡 Coronet City, Corellia Though she realized it likely had more to do with the shock and awe of their invasion than a mark of the Rebel's defenses, the Sith invasion force was managing to take several objectives. Reports relayed via the network of troopers on speeder bikes to bypass the comms blackout indicated that there was a sizable counterattack forming outside the city and advancing methodically in towards the Capitol. Qaela smiled at that and immediately sent orders for explosive traps and mines to be laid out along their path as best as possible, snipers to take up positions, and for general Sith forces to undergo a fighting withdraw in the face of the superior numbers. She wanted to draw them in and bleed them before pulling more of her scattered Sith forces to confront them. The main weakness of her attack was that she simply didn't have a force large enough to fight them head on, but her troops were everywhere and couldn't yet be pinned down in one location. As she supervised the reduction of the last bit of resistance from the Capitol building, a series of shots lanced out at the cadre of officers that were following her. Another burst let her know more closely where the shots had come from and she smiled even as she ignited her crimson lightsaber and summoned the Force to guide her hands against any more attacks. She and the remaining men around her took cover while a nearby AT-ST turned its guns on the area pointed out by various troops who had seen the direction the shots came from. Once the AT-ST began opening fire saturating the area with its main blaster cannons to keep the sniper busy and possibly even kill them, Qaela ordered the officers to finish securing the Capitol while she went out to clear this annoyance. A platoon of black armored troopers went with her as they picked their way rapidly from one place of cover to another. Qaela kept her lightsaber at the ready to take care of any more attacks as they went out to engage. She wasn't about to go too far and walk into a trap, but they needed to keep their new prey busy until more Sith flooded the area.
  27. “Perhaps you learned something after all then,” the voice spoke echoing seemingly from everywhere before the monster of a man, stepped silently out of the brush behind Bones and spoke himself. “Such as why most creatures are formed with more ways to take in information than to offer up their own. Such is the way of the Jensaarai to be still like the waters at river’s edge and to accept the current as one’s destiny when it comes to call.” The Defender’s presence was palpable within the force, but it did not coalesce where the man visibly stood; instead it was if he was all around. “I understand you had some time to study as well. This is very good. It is a sign of the assuredness that you are a Jensaarai. We thirst for knowledge. That which we do not know, trivial or great, we seek out and find. Now, might I suggest you go and rest, bathe yourself, study the Mireinio ysbrydol and then in the afternoon meet me back where you first sought to challenge me. There is more to being a Jensaarai than picking melons afterall.” He chuckled softly at his own attempt at humor as he turned to go back through the undergrowth. Turning over his shoulder he added, “Bring Brother Jho’s gift with you. Arosymladd is best practiced without empty hands.”And with that the man vanished into the trees as if he had never been. The initiate was expected to use the force to find his way home. Meanwhile, the Sun-Dragon had some errands to run. ________________________ Later that afternoon, the Sun-Dragon stood back at the edge of earth-packed circle ringed by huts, a wooden quarterstaff held in his hands. His worn and damaged armor was nowhere to be seen. Instead the man wore a simple rough-spun sleeveless tunic and breeches that left his heavily scarred arms and legs exposed. The man’s face was crisscrossed with scars as well and his left upper arm was covered in jagged twisted tattoos that had once been of elegant Sith design before his skin had been subjected to whatever tortures had left him burned and filleted. At the feet of the warrior lay the gear Bones had come to the Jensaarai in, his weapons, armor, and clothing. As the Tognath came into view, the Jensaarai Defender spoke loudly, “I have heard that you have fancied yourself a hunter and a warrior. It is time to refine those skills into something befitting the Jensaarai Order. You may take what you wish, but remember the way of the Jensaarai. Keep your mind open, remain in the moment, seek knowledge always, control your emotions lest they control you, remember what you have learned and what you have read.” Slowly spinning the staff in his hands, the Sun-Dragon kicked Bones’ gear to the center of the dirt. “Begin and,” he smiled, “try to not kill an old man who once served the Sith before finding truth in the fiery shadows.”
  28. ((Requested OPFOR for Aidan)) In the storm of steel and discharged tibanna gas, the Sith soldiers and colonial police that had come to interrupt a bank robbery found themselves not only judiciously overwhelmed but almost outgunned. The fearsome daggers of light that marked the pair of Jedi knights and their unique weapons, drew fire from both local forces and the Sith who were not currently engaged with the assaulting Jedi troops. Two of the local police, their underpowered sporting blasters deemed useless, retrieved high powered repeating blaster rifles from the trunks of their police speeders and laid a withing wall of fire towards the Jedi knights, while those within the sabre's reach quickly backpedaled to escape what could only be seen as certain death. Afterall, there were only a few bags of credits being manhandled by the Jedi, who wanted to die for cash? Very few when faced by spinning sabre and blasts of the force could stand tall. The banks data center had been closed and sealed for hours. Spast the cash, if they wanted to get away with a few million credits let them. Or at least that was the attitude of the persuing sith and police. So most kept their distance, letting the shock and awe of the fight in the north cover their own trembling hands. The Castellan however, still persued. He flicked the lightfoil up and with his spare hand let loose a storm of force energy intending to knock the pair of them flat.
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