MSA

As Pilon's hand waved them off, Lok simply placed his arm across his chest and gave a sweeping bow before turning to depart. So politics it would be, a notion that didn't sit well with the Knight, as it was politics that inevitably caved every Empire that had rose to power. Still, he would give this Emperor the chance to prove him wrong, albeit with lackluster and faithlessness. It was one thing to hope, but another to blindly place faith in another. Something that he and Raven always held in common and served as a foundation for their mutual respect. As he made his gaze toward the door he entered, however, he could sense the presence of eyes upon him which drove the Knight to linger a moment in his step as he gazed about the room. It wasn't unusual for gazes to be upon him, especially in a place he knew he was unwanted. But this felt of Interest, of gain, and it sent shivers down his freshly cloned spine. Hastening his exit, Lok made a bee line for the door. ************************************************ There were so many questions that flowed upon his mind with little to no answers that Æquitas felt overtly encumbered by the sheer weight of it all. Stepping toward a dented railing that held firmly after Hesperium's aftermath, he leaned into it if only to relieve some of the weight. It had been nearly twenty years since he last set footing upon Coruscant and even in its devastation, it was an alien world to him despite his beginnings here. It was the first place he came as his Master's Padawan, and yet, in the Forty plus years of his extensive life, it was a rare pilgrimage. Gazing toward where the Great Jedi Temple once stood as a beacon for his Order, he remembered the tale he was once told, of how the Temple had been built over a Nexus of Dark Energy to purify its presence in the Force and how the Fountains served as a reminder of how even in the darkest of days, its beautiful waters could rinse clean a being's soul. And yet, they stood no longer. Only in the memory of those who had seen them could they be pictured once again. With a deep sigh, Æquitas stepped back and knelt. Placing his hand upon the ancient and enduring durasteel plating he stood upon, millennia of traversings having crossed this same pathway, Æquitas opened his mind deeply to the Force and let it traverse the numerous pathways that were and could be taken from here to the Temple as he joined his own memories with the ghosts of the past. He let the Force guide him, his questions placed upon its currents as he searched for their answers not only in the presence, but in the past as well for any Jedi who had ever traversed with thoughts similar to his own. The reality of it was that there were no singular answer to be given, and there was no one right or wrong way for him to continue his path as a Jedi. Even those with the rank of Master knew this solemn truth. But it was Æquitas' hope, his prayers, that he could stem some semblance of which direction he should take to be found in the Force, one that would ease his mind and settle his fears after the plight of Korriban. Something, anything.

For the first few moments, Lok simply strolled the Gala as he summed up the atmosphere. There was unease amongst the party goers at seeing the arrival of the Knights, some of which he knew, and others he only he knew by reputation. This Emperor, however, was not one of the Imperialist he knew even vaguely and he waited to make his own approach until @Raphanelhad. Catching the tail end of their conversation, hearing the last remnants of it as he gave a formal bow, nodding casually at Raphanel afterwards. Raphanel was a being he had seen mostly in passing, but never personally met. Similar to Emperor @Beck Pilon, albeit he knew more the name than the actual person. And not one he expected to take up Raven's mantle. In truth, Raven's mantle was a heavy burden he didn't expect many, if any, to carry. Let alone a former subordinate. In truth, it just didn't sit right with Lok, and his eyes likely spoke of this. "It's our duty to safeguard the Empire..." Lok spoke, quickly realizing his misspoke, and coughed to correct himself. "Forgive me, the Sovereignty." After offering his apologies with a bow of his head, Lok continued his original point. "That will never be in question. Our loyalties lay in that unbroken promise with little doubt, if any. Those were Lady Raven's wishes, and we shall carry them out until our last breaths." "You must forgive me however." Lok's eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed as the tension in his face became apparent and his following question grew visible even before he spoke it aloud. "We are not political pieces to be paraded around. We take our duties seriously. What is your real reasoning for calling us here before the Great Houses?" Lok's words could have been taken as insult, but that was not his intent. He was Onderonian, a son of the Beast Riders, and warrior of the now labeled Sovereign. Politics were not his forta and as with his time in Jedi, this moment felt very political. Given his forthwith nature, he spoke openly about what he felt and saw around him. Raven knew this and respected it. Now he pondered on how Emperor Pilon would accept his openness. Had Politics became his life? Or was he still a soldier at heart. ************************************************ While the Droid remained above, Æquitas took the time to distance himself and took the shuttle down with Agent @Talyn Orin. He needed time to think, to recenter himself after Korriban and ponder on the words that were spoken to him by the spirit of the Jedi he felt. All that war, it had taken its toll on the young Jedi Knight and it showed visually. War... it was never a Jedi's path. Or at least shouldn't have been. His Master had taught him this until their departure. And even as he departed the shuttle, he couldn't help but wish his council and even looked for him as he stepped upon the streets of what remained of Coruscant. Even the scar of Coruscant that led to this bloodied war echoed in his connection to the planet and he felt more of the weight that burdened him press down upon his tired form. He had tried to rest on their way back, but the screams of war had echoed in his mind. Gazing out across Coruscant, he let himself go upon the Force that swirled and lashed outwardly across its broken surface. And yet, despite this, life was beginning to return, and with it, the light. After Korriban, it felt rejuvenating to feel the lightside of the Force in nearly full strength and the memories Mjan shared flowed alongside him. A member of the Sith species, he had always fought his darker nature. And it's weight was akin to what still pressed upon Æquitas' own soul. So how did he find his fight? What made him, a Jedi, use the darkness of his species in the service of the Light? How was he able to overcome? How was Æquitas meant to find his own will to fight? Defending was second nature to a Jedi. But the Jedi Order now served a more aggressive nature, one on the offensive. And for Æquitas, it felt overwhelming. Opening his eyes, he brought his lightsaber up and activated it, feeling the kyber within harmonizing with his own presence as the emerald hue pulsated a calming hum. Questioning the crystal, he wondered. "How are we supposed to adapt and overcome the years we have been the same, harmonic and peaceful? Or should we even try?"

With each step Æquitas took, blood trickled down his hand and fingers, dripping upon the stone beneath his feet as he stared wildly into nothingness, a momentary feeling of rage and remorse intertwined. Life was life, either way you looked at it. It was to be protected, preserved. Not stomped from existence. But in this new war, this new Era, both sides seemed to callously extinguish it. Even himself as he walked the battlefield earlier this day. And the Darkness from it seeped into Korriban's core like mynocks feasting on a ship's engines. Æquitas was Jedi. Not Imperial, not Sovereign, not Alliance, nor Sith. He had lived his entire fifty years of life as a Jedi. Through countless assaults, through countless Dark Lords and Grandmasters, the risings and fallings of numerous generations. But there was always a separation between Jedi and the rest, a line to be walked on one side, and not on the edge that separated them. It felt so wrong. And as he stopped and gazed at his bloodied and broken arm, he contemplated his role in this new Era. Suddenly, a outside feeling of warmth and peace washed over his form, a feeling of joy and happiness in the darkest of times rested upon his mind and he gazed off toward it's presence, a purple hued figure barely visible outside his peripheral standing at his side with a calming smile and knowing eyes. Then he jumped, a cold hand placed upon his shoulder as he was spun around and forced to lay eyes upon a medic. "Master Jedi..." The Medic began, pulling out some bacta and bandages with his free hand as he held onto the broken appendage he managed to grasp. "I need to fix you up until we can get you aboard a medical frigate." "No." Æquitas responded, pulling at his arm despite the pain as he gritted his teeth in the movement. "But sir..." The Medic recoursed, but found Æquitas firm in his resolve. "I said no. Splint it if you must, but it heals on its own." Æquitas affirmed. "Jedi." The Medic mumbled under his breath as he placed Æquitas aside upon a nearby work station where mining equipment and some artifacts were placed. As he began his work, Æquitas turned his attention to the bled Kyber he held within his free hand, hovering the crystal before his eyes as he stared into it both with his sapphiric eyes as well as in the Force. The crystal was almost flawless in its carving, ancient runes etched into its form and its presence defiled. And yet, there, buried deep within, the light remained, suppress and dominated, almost corrupted. One could say there were layers upon layers of latent Darkside energies burying what remained of the natural Force that comprised all Kyber Crystals, and the one who wielded it before. And yet, the dominating presence of the Darkside bounded it. "This is the order of Chaos, the power of the Sith." A voice echoed within his mind as the presence from before fell upon his form once again, inviting and wise. "Dominance and subjugation of will and spirit of the former wielder. This is how they are bled. And also cleansed." "I feel your doubts, Jedi, and I know your spiritual pain. It echoes upon the very currents of this world, mixed within the remnants of those who came before you, a path I know all to well as I too once was a Jedi. And yet, you have yet to realize the truth, a truth that many have either became blind to just as you have, or have accepted dutifully just as your companions. And because of this, you now ache with heartbreak." Visions of Felucia, Mon Cal, Krayiss II, and numerous other worlds crossed his mind as Mjan shared his life's story and the revelation he found in his own plight, a plight that he and Æquitas shared even if their stories differed. Æquitas sought to preserve life, and Mjan sought to conquer the Darkness within. "See my life. Know it's story. Know my plight and my will. As I struggled, so will you. For war is war, and life holds little meaning in its path. Your companions differ in this because they see one life taken saving millions, and you see taking one life as one of those millions. There is nothing wrong with this, for it is the Jedi's way. And yet, it will lead you to Chaos, to the Darkside, for there is no balance between life and death in the Jedi's way. And it differs no more in the Sith's philosophy, to take lives and leave only death." Next Mjan showed Æquitas another like himself, only walking the darker path. There was a sibling connection between them revealed, and the aftermath of the being known as Karys. He could feel the chaos of the beings spirit, a warrior unmatched, intent on corrupting the natural order. " This is my brother, Karys. Where I fought to tame the darkness within me, he accepted it blindly as heritage. See how life has no meaning to him, only his? There stands the only difference between who I was and who he is. And yet, in his ignorance, I gained far more knowledge than he ever could. Not because I sought to preserve life, nor did I take it willingly. But because I found the truth that life and death are intertwined. I found the Balance of the Force." Æquitas flinched as the Medic finished the splint, the tightness sending an aching through his mangled hand and forearm that caused him to nearly drop the crystal he held within his freed palm. "Pain is natural, just as is grief. And love. And anger. Emotions are what separates us from beasts. The Jedi seek to control and numb those emotions where Sith seek to express and conform those emotions into empowerment. And in many ways, both are right. Yet, both hinder the other in countless wars that never see any true end due to their selfishness. Something you will inevitably come to see. It's okay to feel these emotions, to do what must be done for the betterment of the Galaxy. But you can never let it control you nor define you. Death is but the cleansing of a corrupt life, like the crystal you hold. It's as natural as the life you seek to preserve as much as any inevitability. Carry this pain, you must. But do not let it burden you. Let its reminder humble you." The words faded into the ethereal just as the presence lifted from his form and the pain of his arm subsided. Rising from the work station, Æquitas thanked the Medic and continued his trek to the surface. He could understand why the presence chose to reveal themselves, but it gave Æquitas much to think on during his walk. When the others arrived, Æquitas was sitting at the entrance of the Grand Hall awaiting them.

Blood and guts, brains and blood. Smash, rip, tear. Kill all Sith. No mercy. It all happened so fast that it left Æquitas in a horrified state of shock, his brain strolling across the events after they unfolded and trying to make sense of what led to this moment. He remembered smiling as his blade cut through the device, the Sith's disbelief and rage quickly following. Then the sound of weaponry near his ear that sent his hearing into a painful ringing. Before he could recover, however, RUIN joined the fray and now before him, the lifeless corpse laid, mangled and demolished by the Terror Droid who was incapable to remorse or regret. And all he could think in that moment was how it didn't have to end this way. With the snap and hiss of his emerald crossguard deactivating, Æquitas stumbled backwards as the reality set in both in visual and sensory aspects, not only the sight of brain soup and blood coagulating, but the putrid smell of iron and dirt. It was almost enough to churn his stomach as he backed against the dirtied wall of the tunnel and dropped his blade. His gaze shifted to RUIN as Fera began to speak, anger welling up in his mind as the Droid chirped and spoke until it took hold of him completely. Before any could react, and likely wouldn't in the case of the two droids, Sanguis was upon the Terror Droid and slamming a now bloodied fist into the lifeless face of RUIN in discontent, tears swelling in his eyes as he continued to break his fingers and wrist, as well as shatter his forearm, against the metallic structure that made up RUIN's face. "He didn't have to die, you lifeless bastard." Æquitas yelled through his pain. "He could have been captured, maybe even redeemed in time. You don't get to be his judge and executioner! I had this." His tone trailed off as he backed away, his arm broken and limp to the point that, like RUIN, it was useless and couldn't be moved. Backing against the tunnels wall, he slid down onto his buttox, and went silent. Korriban had been too much for the Jedi. All the death, all the darkness he saw and felt that day, it felt as it had seeped into his soul and broken his will. And in the moment he saw an opportunity for salvation, a moment to turn the day away from the Darkness, it was snatched away by artificial intelligence, a created sentient who could not feel or even grasp its concept. He felt broken entirely. It wasn't that Æquitas had never been in combat situations before. He had lived far longer than most and seen the Galaxy switch hands numerous times. But his fights had always followed the Jedi philosophy, stuck to the tenants and creed they once all lived by. But this war had been different, a changing of an Era where instead of defending, the Order chose to strike back. It was why Nar Shadaa turned out the way it did. It was why the Sith, as strong as they were, were defeated utterly. And it had defeated everything he stood for. Yet, his anger wasn't directed directly at RUIN, nor what he stood for. He was a Droid, with artificial intelligence or not, and his programming dictated his reactions. It was the intentions behind the entire war. Not simply to regain what was lost, but to eradicate the Sith entirely, no matter the cost it brought upon the innocent. Rising from his seat, Æquitas replied to Fera's previously asked question before he took off walking back toward the surface in a somber walk, stopping only to pick up the bled crystal. "Do what you wish, Droid. The fight is over."

Mjan sighed a sigh of disappointment as the Sith began cackling, the madness of the Darkside a corrupt and construed sense of reality. He stood as the ceiling began to collapse and faded into the ethereal plane as he turned away from Xervatus' madness, a final message echoing between life and death as the others began to arrive. "A life of shackles, bound to fruitless labors" His voice echoed throughout the shafts and tunnels, yet only heard by Xervatus as it faded with the Jedi Tsis. The visage of pale skin draped in Cerilian Blue and Emerald hair emerged from the dust of the crumbling rocks, his gaze locking not upon the Sith, but of the Sith's device and the urgency he showed toward it as he tore into it's frame and components. This was all the Æquitas needed to know that something was afoot and the device was it's focus. With an outstretched arm, he pulled at it's form and attempted to rip it from the Sith's hands in Xervatus' distraction. With his blade activated in the other, Sanguis made the first strike, grasping at both the trigger and arching himself into a forward twist and he brought the blade down upon the Sith's outstretched arms with the intent to end whatever his intent with the trigger was meant to. He didn't need to understand its entirety, only the intentions portrayed by the actions of the moment he hastenedly had ran into, and end it before it even began. Stern gaze callously followed and the seriousness of ending the battle for Korriban present in his features. He had killed enough today to last him a lifetime, so if it could be avoided, he didn't intend to kill again.

"Spare a moment for a moment for a Tsis, will you?" Mjan's otherworldly voice echoed amongst the tunnels and the natural crevasse they had cut through as he stepped from the across the veil, a humbled smile across his face. "Surely you can offer me this much." His gaze eyed the lingering finger Xervatus held above the pad, his form almost holographic against the backdrop they had found themselves within save for his presence in the Force. Korriban's liberation, his people's liberation from the confines of the Darkside, had always been a lifelong goal, one he never held the chance to achieve, and one that Xervatus now was upon the precipice of destroying. And yet, Mjan could do nothing, his corporeal form unable to interact with the Galaxy outside his appearance. He was naught but a lingering consciousness within the collective of the Force. "You know why I am here." He nodded toward the pad he held in his grasp. "And yet, you know there's nothing that I can do. I am but a spirit of the Force, one with that which I sought to serve with my life, and now in death. Much like you intend to do for those who bear the name of my species once the world is reclaimed as the ever turning cycle of light versus dark flips yet again." Mjan takes a seat upon a nearby rock, spreading the robes he adorned and placing hands upon knees as he let the Sith contemplate his words, an attempt to stroke the ego without faltering from the obvious truth. "But I poise a question for you to ask yourself." Mjan concludes as the battle ends above, something he is sure the Sith himself has felt. "Are you sure it's what you wish? Or is it what you think you wish? A gest of the Darkside to continue it's cycle should the others inevitably fall, if you will. For you it will be but a moment of respite. And yet, for the rest of the Galaxy, an era or two, everything and everyone you might know and cherish gone." A stern yet compassionate look falters upon his face, his smile sinking away as he speaks and his clawed hand reaches up to stroke his tendrils with thought. "Perhaps you wish to prolong your life a few more years, or decades even. Your intentions are clouded and undiscerning. But I'm wondering if, just perhaps, you've come to see in your time as I have in my death, the futility of our actions. That in light or dark, our names are lost to time and our memories become ghosts as those who come after us take our places within the turning of time. That everything we do, is simply erased." Mjan's hand falls from his face and points at the pad. "Even this moment." Mjan's moment, although intent to buy time for those above to find and seek out this trap, was his own attempt to persuade and perhaps prevent another soul from following the ever delving cycle that both sides knew all too well. If he could reach this Sith, Xervatus, his soul could rest in peace. But if not, perhaps the others could prevent Korriban from housing another secret of the Darkside.

Fear trickled across the backside of Æquitas neck as his gaze shifted across the hazed battleground and crimson bolts of compressed and heated gas focused upon his form. He knew that his trick would not persist long, but the enemy's lapse of focus didn't last as long as he had hoped. Grasping at a nearby fallen form, he pulled it across the line of fire he first saw, but felt the sting of burnt flesh upon his backside as he turned and slung the body in its direction before falling to a knee amidst the ensuing chaos. Had the corrupted cancer of the Darkside infected the Force so deeply upon Korriban that it sought to claim him in it's name? This thought crossed his mind briefly as he knelt within the confines of the rising dust as crimson bolts meant for him whizzed overhead just before an explosion erupted to his side. And as he processed this thought, time seemed to nearly halt to a brief stand still. For death had never been a concept for Æquitas. He aged nearly half that of his human counterparts, and had always been able to sustain himself where most could not. This had always been his reality and death had never been a possibility until now. Even now, as he shifted his gaze downward to the wounds he collected earlier in the battle, blood drizzling from beneath their bandaged confines, he had never really considered that he could die. He simply pushed himself forward, the Force always his ally. But here, on Korriban, the diseased Force he felt amongst the Light was a of a darker nature, and it called to end Life. And though he aged slower than that of Agent Orin, he was still mortal. Only now did his mortality come to the forefront of his mind and in this brief moment, he questioned whether he feared it or not. For he had never done so before. He was an outcast as a child for as long as he could remember, an orphan whom was feared and shunned by those who grew up and left his child like reality behind while he remained just that. He had even been locked out in what some would consider the harshest of colds. And yet, he survived where others would not. The Force loved him so, and because of that, it had always spared him. But the Darkside of Korriban did not. He could feel its loathing for him even as he approached the planet. And now it sought his demise. Would he welcome it if he did perish this day? Or would he face it in fear like so many others? Almost immediately, he felt a response cross his mind as if something reached out and responded for it. He was a Jedi. A scholar and protectorate. It was his duty to give his life for others and the pursuit of peace, to proceed the knowledge that would rid the Galaxy of the cancer these Sith had placed upon it millennia ago and pave the path toward that very goal. Death was simply a part of that path, and so many had paved the way for him to be here upon their homeworld in a fight to cleanse them from it. Their duty was his duty. Their path was his path. And it spanned the length of time its self, passed down across countless generations. This was the way. Like his Master before him, wherever he walked now, Sanguis would stand whether it be his final hour or just the beginning. And as his inhale became an exhale, time returned and reality flashed. Ruin and Fera appeared to his aid, the localized screams of horror and onslaught erupting from the dust of war as their forms shifted in its foreground. Gathering his strength, his Emerald blade reignited and twirled a humming melody of righteousness as his hand guided the Force before him and became his shield. Whether Korriban became his tomb, or any planet in the unseeable future, he would ensure it resounded in the Light. If the Force truly loved him so, he would give that love ten fold in return. Side stepping a soldier, he slung the emerald hue across the Sith's form, cleaving the being's form in two as his focus shifted to the next. Korriban would be won. *********************************************** Deep beneath the Sith Temple where the unholy one began to prepare his tomb for the re-emergence of their kind one day, a spector began to haunt it's tunnels. Tendrils hung from its chin and across it's brow, it's blue form reflecting a red hue to its skin. Upon its hip sat a double hilted lightsaber, remnant of a Temple Guard of Coruscant. But this Tsis didn't radiate the temptations of a Sith or of the Darkside. No. This was a being of Light despite his appearance of the ancient lineage that fostered the Darkside. This specter was a Jedi. A Jedi named Mjan Sadow iv Adias.

Sanguis shook his head behind the covering they had found, his questioning having been lost in translation as the two droids began rambling on about their predicament. That wasn't what he had meant. His questioning had been more focused on RUIN, not the battle. He had eyes. He could see the battlefield, and what he couldn't see, he could feel in the Force. Despite the miscommunication, the droids did bring up a valid point. Sheer will has gotten them this far, but with the three heavy weapons emplacement, it would be an unholy hellfire to put out when they made their first footing into the killbox. He delved into the currents of the Force as Talyn arrived, following its flow across the battlefield and into the emotions and thoughts of those who opposed them. To describe what it felt like, one would have to understand the sentient mind. Most stood guarded when it came to deeper thoughts like secrets and intent. Especially when they knew a Jedi lurked close by. Even a subtle push to find them out would alert his presence and they would shut down mentally. But in the heat of the moment, where emotions ran high, subtle thoughts of pure randomness could betray them. Especially the weaker minded. Sanguis nodded his head in approval at @Talyn Orin after he finished speaking. The moment was coming up, and Sanguis had found a couple of weak spots in their Defenses. Their was a hint of reluctance in mind, but this was war and the casualties had made their choice long ago. In their unfocused emotions, their intent had became known. Their hatred toward the Alliance and the Jedi had spelled their doom this day. They couldn't be saved even if they were left breathing. With a sigh, Sanguis prepared himself. For the second Agent Orin acted, all hell would break loose. And it did. As the Imperial Agent let loose his volley of grenades, red bolts of fire let loose toward their location, shaking hands and twitching fingers firing in random patterns as the disorientation took holds of their minds. All it took was a little strength in the Force, and a little suggestion, and mind's became subjugated. Rifles turned inward toward the Heavy Weapons Placements and chaos ensued as friendlies became foes. This presented the trio a moment of respite and opportunity. One Sanguis took full advantage of. Emerald blade ignited, he spun it as he crossed the threshold, stray Blaster bolts being redirected amongst their opposition with precision while Sanguis let loose his own volleys of pushes and pulls through the Force. His intent was to completely disorient these villains in the chaos they sought to sow, and provide a subtle victory this day. He only hoped the other two could keep up.

Orin's words drastically stung as the reality of the moment sunk in. He was a Jedi, not a soldier. And yet, here he was, playing the part of a soldier, his Jedi mentality abandoning him and his fight or flight responses taking over. But there were some truths to the Agent's words, and as hard of a pill as it was to swallow, Sanguis accepted them with a bittersweet thankfulness. There was so much to evaluate and think upon, but now wasn't the time nor the place to do so, so with a nod and lingering words, Æquitas stepped out onto the field of battle once more, a literal leap into the fray. "Let us not dwell upon the difference of philosophy and life." Sanguis spoke, reaching out into the Force and letting it fill his form as he crouched and released the energy, expelling his form forward with intense speed and distance, his words lingering in his departure. " For now, we must fight." Amongst the carnage and debris, most of the defenses seemed to be either struggling to survive or on the verge of death, but some remained active and that was where Æquitas placed his focus. As his form descended through the air upon a group of soldiers firing, his blade found contact and sliced through the Rifle's barrel, Sanguis quickly extending his hand in their direction and sending the troops flying backwards into unconsciousness. For he may have been on the offensive, but it did not require him to kill unless it came to it. Rebounding, Æquitas continued on, allowing what remained of the Unifying Force upon the darkened world of Korriban to aid his endeavor as he sought to free this world once and for all from the corruption of those who wielded the Darkside. Every now and then, Sanguis would look back to see how Orin and those who followed were doing, but his focus was ahead, a massive stone structure atop the Valley of the Sith Lords. It was here that millennia of Sith Lords were raised, and here that he would aid in its ending. This day, the Parexum would fall just as the Jedi who long ago turned their backs upon the Light. Hearing Fera's comm chatter, Æquitas hastened himself, his thoughts upon the enemy and the possibilities they were capable of. Especially if a Sith Lord truly remained upon this planet. As soon as his feet touched the ground once more, he burst into a sprint, his reserves of the Force full from the his previous hesitations. He knew it would not last long, but there were many things he had to make up for this day and he didn't want to lose another comrade this day. Arriving leagues ahead of Orin, he took cover beside RUIN. "Status report?" He questioned, despite the barrage of crimson and emerald plasma bolts firing over head.

Pain drizzled from his body as he stood up from the makeshift bed, rising to his feet as his gaze met that of Orin. The assault had left numerous injured, but alive, with minor casualties. Still, it was more than Æquitas wanted. Reaching out into the Force, Sanguis allowed it to flow inside him and around his injuries, guiding its power and will to nerve endings and pain receptors as he dulled the hindrance of the moment to a barely felt ache. But now was the time for the second assault. Time to truly put himself into play and reset his mind from the fogs of war into the here and now of survivability. "I agree. Now is the moment to give it everything we've got." Sanguis spoke, his writer ignoring the overlooking of Orin's own to the bombardment having already taken place. With bandages holding back the bleeding wounds of the blaster burns and debris, he was in fighting shape for now, and there was still targets to subdue and capture. As the Allisnce made way from the sky, it was theirs to make way upon the ground. As the Marines made way for the next assaults, Sanguis ignited his emerald crossguarded hilt. "I need to quit thinking as a Jedi and fight like a soldier, lest these deaths grow in vain." And, in the moment, this felt truer to Sanguis. His hesitation, his doubts, had done more damage than good. His memories of Nar Shadaa had left him meek and intimidated. But not now. He stood upon a battlefield with allies dying around him. And his mindframe had only added to the devastation. Even as the doubts and hesitation lingered at the back of his mind, his thoughts of the others came pushed to the forefront of his focus. He would simply have to wait until after to regather himself when the moment of war no longer existed. Stepping out onto the battlefield ahead of Orin and the others, the others behind Sanguis as the rounds continued their assault, hope became apparent even amidst the fogs of war. As the aerial assault gave way to their push toward the center of the conflict, the Sith stronghold became the last target to focus upon. This would be the deciding factor. It would come down to this. This final assault would defind everything. Turning to Orin, he questioned. "How do you want to proceed?" It wasn't a simple question, but Orin was more soldier than Æquitas, and he knew the lay of the land. This stronghold would be unforgiving, as would its Commander @Darth Calypso. Their timing and precision would need to be impeccable. It would be the only way to win Korriban and end this battle. And Sanguis intended on doing just that. Not for the Alliance. Nor for himself. But for those who would never return home. For those who's spirits had now became a part of this darkened world. Only then would their spirits find peace and become one with the Force.

Hysteria had nearly enveloped the Jedi's mind when an unknown hand grasped at his robes from behind the mound of flesh and bone, his gaze blinded by the caking of dust and tears as his form was dragged clear. And the moments remembered were abrupt and unclear. The forms that grabbed him were blurred, only the emotional refuge of passive aggressiveness offering ease to Sanguis's mind. As the shock to his mind reeled his thoughts to reality, the chaos of war sundered the realm into oblivion as hopelessness, fear, hatred, all played into a break of formation, forms of enemies and friendlies alike. Those that lived simply scattered in all directions as large bolts traced across the skies. And in a moment of silence and regression, heated gasses illuminated all sight. When Sanguis came to, the dust of Korriban had begun to settle and the chaos illuminated. Even at the distance of safety, screams of anguish and despair echoed across the valley. Æquitas shook his head, the pain reeling him back to reality as his hand grasped to readjust his posture. Around him were the wounded. And beyond, the fighting still incurred. He could feel the burning flesh of his wounds. And in his hands gripped tightly the emerald blade that he swore his duty upon. A familiar face came into view. It was that of Agent @Talyn Orin. Æquitas yelled out his name as he fought to sit up. Their mission here was not done. Æquitas was not done. Come what may, Korriban had to be won.

What Sanguis hadn't expected was how caught up in the moments he would become, the eerie enrapture of the Darkside that emitted from Korriban taking subtle strokes. It would flood the minds of the meek with anger and rage, sorrow and fear. And even for the stronger willed, it was blinding. Before he could catch himself, he had been taken hold of by its entangled grasp. His vision became tunneled, and his mind simple. And he never looked or shifted his gaze except forward. Before he knew it, the carnage of war surrounded him. Stopping for a brief moment to catch his breath and settle his mind, the fog of war as thick as soup surrounding them, reality set in as he gazed upon lifeless forms that he stepped upon. Forms, he had led to their deaths and forms he had thrown into the line of fire whether it had been their own or the enemies. Nor could he reasonably call it the will of the Force, as it's will had long not been his own since setting upon this cursed world. No. This was the Darkside, the will of Korriban, and he had let it stray his own to its cause. This entire battle had been its endeavor. Suddenly, the subtle grace of malicious intent encompassed his mind moments before the barrage of crimson bolts arched at his form, barely enough time to engross his sanity in reaction as he locked eyes with the black and gold armor behind the blaster. His emerald blade spun its course as his empty hand brought up a wall of forceful telekinetic energy that attacked the bolts in redirection. Spinning on his heels, he darted for covered behind a mound of fresh corpses obscured by moment. Fight or flight had taken hold, the value of shock only amplified by the openness of his blue eyes against the scale of his paled skin, blinding him to the covering he chose and the wound he received. Only in the moment of recluse did he realize the sting of the bolts burn beneath the blood of the opposition that covered his robes and the softness of the rock he had dove behind. But by then, the reality had already come to pass and he was stuck in its course. Tears strolled from his eyes and through his nostrils as the reality became harsher in the realization and the truth of the Darkside became apparent. Each were but pawns in its endless game.

"What have I gotten myself into?" was the most singular and abrupt thought that entered Sanguis' mind as he followed Captain Bryce and her men into the fray, his Emerald Crossguard ignited behind the first few erupting Blasters. Emotions blurred but for a brief moment and then his adrenaline kicked it and swept the young Jedi Knight up in the moment of battle. As blasterfire erupted in return, Æquitas was quick to deflect what he was able to, the twirling of his blade and the subtle hum signaling his presence amongst the masses, and what he couldn't deflect with his blade, the Force that swirled around him became an extension of his will. It was chaos. It was hell. And he was in the thick of it. And at the slightest of gut feelings, he reacted. As crimson bolts whizzed past or met with earth, Æquitas remained alert and on guard in a supportive role, using the Force to pull friendlies out of the line of fire and to push the enemies as far from his comrades as he could. Sweat beaded from his brow as the dusted earth kicked up and caked in its moisture. As his mind whizzed a mile a minutes, he found himself caught up quickly in the chaos. With each breath, a second passed. And with each second, it seemed the moment was an eternity. Blaster fire echoed, and the heat from explosions rippled as the whizz of the fighter engines roared over head. And yet, the push was relentless, each target programmed and etched into the memories of those who led him. And he kept up. He dared not falter for even the briefest of seconds. He used his one true ally to protect those around him to the best of his abilities. But in the midst of the war's fog, nothing was ever certainty nor was it controlled. Even as the crimson of blood stained his cerulean blue robes, he could not see it. For this was war, and it had taken ahold of him. As a Jedi, he held true to yet have taken a life in the moments. But as a sentient being, his mind was maxed out and he was oblivious to those he had yet to see fallen. He simply reacted.

Sanguis heard Captain Bryce's words, and understood their intent, the youthful nature of the aged Jedi prevailing as he strapped himself in for the long and quick descent. Individuality made the Galaxy a place of grandeur to live and exist within, each capable of countless outcomes depending upon the viewpoint and path taken. If it had not been for his Master, Sanguis was unsure of where he would even be, if he was to be anywhere. But Individuality was more than choice and consequence. It was defined by nature, intent, and possibility. It was defined by the very individual. As the ship began its free fall and the coldness of space took root within the ship's dwindling oxygen, the Force swirled around the Jedi Knight like moths to the flame. It came as natural as a breath, the area around within Sanguis warming to match that of his internal core temperature. It was a misunderstood rarity that Sanguis barely held any foreknowledge of, having been a part of himself as long as he could remember, his affinity for Tapas rooted within his unknown origins. But it had always been an ally and rarely a hindrance, having saved his life many times and helped in his survival as a child. And even as unconsciousness threatened to overcome him, it never wavered. Most of the drop was a hindered blur, wrapped in a blanket of the Force as he fought back both the fear of the moment and the call of unconsciousness. In truth, the moment was likely what kept him from falling completely into unconsciousness, his adrenaline kicking into overdrive in a mimic of his fight or flight responses. But deep down, there was another mixture of biology and emotion, that despite the fear and the threat of unconsciousness, there laid a hint of excitement and thrill, a rarity of its own right. A lack of composure overtook him. "Whoooooooo!" Sanguis exclaimed as the ship's turbulence rocketed and threatened to throw him, the ache of his emptied stomach threatening to turn its self inside out in the decent and then the sudden but abrupt acceleration as the engines and mechanicals kicked back in, his heart beat pounding in his ears. And in the moment, sanity seemed to leave him cackling. "Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha. Feeling the sudden revert from near weightlessness to being thrown back into his seat, teary eyed Sanguis glanced about the cabin as the others suddenly began to stir and both the Captain and the Imperial Agent began to check on the others. A smirked grin upon his face, his gaze shot toward them as they questioned his wellbeing. There was but only one reply he could give, his nerves briefly settled and his mind upon something other than war. "Never better!" He yelled toward them.

Sanguis head shifted as Agent Orin spoke in his approach, the Agent attempting to somber the moment, but failing miserably. Sanguis knew his words to be truth, as his presence held no inaccuracies, and for a brief moment, it sent Sanguis into a closely held panic as his heart rate elevated. But Sanguis calmed himself, reaching out into the Force and letting its serene currents course through him. But the Force here, nearest the planet, was corrupted, sickly in disease and plagued by the Darkside that had resided here for millennia. And despite the serene currents that flowed, a mixture of hatred and anxiety rolled with it like pollution amidst a stream. This was the first moment that Sanguis felt what they were truly up against, and it soured his very core. He had felt the darkness of one's heart before, the ill intent of another, in his travels and missions. And even Nar Shadaa, his first introduction to the Sith which had left his scarred as much mentally as it did physically, held no candle to the weight he felt pressured upon his presence within the Force as he touched it. This place was the culmination of evil, true evil, and it permeated like rotted flesh upon it. "I see..." He replied through a knotted up throat, his voice croaking as if choking upon his words as the realization set in. And true panic set in. His eyes widened and his palms began to sweat. Beads of anxiety perspired upon his brow and questions entered his mind as doubt clouded his thoughts. Even questions of his skill came calling and whether he deserved the Rank of Knight pressed against his psyche as a voice streamed across the ship and he felt as if his heart stopped beating. And yet, even as the words drew horror in his soul, Sanguis made little outward expression. Was this shock? Or was something else in play? His Master's farewell came to mind as the attack upon the commenced, explosions rocking space and presence as the Darkside threatened to corrupt the life around them. This world was full of past and present intent and it echoed within the Force like howling spirits. And yet, his thoughts focused upon the words rather than the moment, and a strength was found within them, like an ember igniting, suddenly warming the cold around them. A light within the darkness, Sanguis suddenly became a beacon, and his mindframe shifted as if a final piece fell into place as if his will held a will of its own. "Rest. And rise a Jedi Knight." The words echoed within his mind as if on repeat, echoing a hidden psyche that had been buried deep. "Rest. And rise a Jedi Knight." Trembling hands traced their way toward the cross guarded lightsaber that remained clipped to his sash, and his body began to cool. The emerald Kyber within the emitters housing swirled a hidden emerald swirl within, and Sanguis soul quieted. And within his mind, the realization of duty came to the forefront of his thoughts. This was why he trained. This was the culmination of his fifty years of life. This was his life, predestined by fate that began long before memories were ever recalled and before he ever knew his adopted homeworld. Fear was meant to be faced, courage the simple act. And as he stood amidst the bombardment, despite his nerves, his psyche settled. As chaos grew around them, Sanguis followed Captain Bryce and the others quickly toward the Assault ships, and before he knew what overtook him, was in open space headed for the darkened world below with war in open season. His nerves seemed settled, his mind focused. Fear still sat upon him, but his psyche was resisting. His voice spoke, calm and serene, if not a bit arrogant. "For the greater good."