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Darkness and Chaos, Chaos and Darkness. These two seemed to always be hand in hand wherever one was to be found. From Coruscant to here, during my travels and training under Master Armiena, it has been all I had seen and noticed, its giant maw seeming to have swallowed the entire known universe. Death, destruction, hate, anger, vengeance, revenge, grief. It was a never ending cycle, one that kept the wheels of Darkness ever moving. And here, aboard this ship, it was nothing different.


I could feel it vibrating in its steel frame, beneath my feet and along its walls, the drums of war beating with its unison. The energy around us, even as we marched through the void left open by our entrance, the static of the clinging emotion could be felt as we treaded. Looking ahead at Armiena and Ryu, I could feel their familiarity with it, their steeled affinity to it unphased. But for me, it was different. It was smothering, intense, overbearing, and new. It clawed at me, tearing at my soul, knawing at the light in my heart.


And when the doors opened, it was as if time stood utterly still...


My breath was taken aback, my form freezing cold as I gazed into the darkened abyss before us. What air was around us was eerily silent, foreboding as if a curtain of utter darkness fell upon our forms and trapped us. I attempted to reach out in the Force having felt Ryu's inner turmoil emanating from his form. But as I did, his panic casted my psyche aside, brushing me aside. And then the hammer of war slammed down upon the anvil, rushing us back to reality as action took control.


Blaster bolts erupted before us, flashes of crimson amidst the dark as the color hues of our blades reacted against, painting shadows and blind spots among the corridor. Even with my little training in the art of my blade, I managed to deflect a few in the midst of the chaos as the Force guided my hand. But thankfully, i had Master Armiena and Ryu at the forefront taking most of the action's brunt, very few bolts making it in my direction.


All i could do was react and hope, standing alone in the rear as these Masters of Combat cleared the way, my mind clouded by the emotions, my form trembling in its wake, and my instincts for survival pushing me to my limits. When an opening presented itself, I aided as best I could, tapping into the Force's guiding hand and helping clear the way as a Trooper found the brunt of my push.

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With another gutting explosion the last of the Belarus class cruisers was deduced to a fireball of burning fuel, venting oxygen, and spinning corpses. That explosion took with it the last of the old Novarch. The last of the Galactic Alliance Modernization program that had been terminated by the destruction of Coruscant itself. To Godfrey it represented everything that had gone wrong with the old alliance, a ship that cost far too much for what it delivered, with a compromised design that had to please everyone in the planning committee and fulfill a bucketload of special interests. But they had done their duty. It had not been the admiralties fault that the senate had butchered their modernization. Though Godfrey had faithfully served the senate for years, it was quickly becoming clear that there was a significant advantage to shunning a democratic approach. But those thoughts could wait until the Sith were driven out of Corellia.


Rebel Alliance Destroyer Group [Turbolasers] |Alexei|

Taskforce Experience Veteran (2xp)

LC-Belarus Medium Cruiser Novarch Ackbar |0/0|

LC-Belarus Medium Cruiser Novarch Sikaot ||0/0|


Rebel Alliance Precision Strike Carrier Group |Anastasia|

Taskforce Experience Green (1xp) 

TSC-Tapani Class Frigate Eleanor |0/0|

DP20 Corvette Nantes |0/0|

DP20 Corvette Rennes |0/0|

DP20 Corvette Saint-Anslem|0/0|

DP20 Corvette Saint-Marie |0/0|

TSC-Tapani-class cruiser-carrier Vexille |9/5|


Rebel Alliance Rapid Intervention Escort: Timely Response |Seraphim|

Taskforce Experience Green (1xp) 

KDY Victory II-class Star Destroyer Red Hussar |3/9| 

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 |17/18|


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 |4/9|

 Nova-Class Cruiser Edessa |0/0|


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 |0/3|

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|


Rebel Alliance Fleet Command - Godfrey d'Outremer

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The Carrier Group centered around Typhoon went up in flames, bellowing as the vessel and those that accompanied it, had been destroyed. Their purpose was served, and with their sacrifice, the Imperial Navy was able to secure a priority veteran kill on the GA-inspired Star Destroyer Alexei. Other task forces within the formations began to fall back towards the conquered Centerpoint to re-assess and relinquish their forward directive from Sith Master Qaela as reports had been confirmed that she had been defeated in singular combat on the fields of Corellia. She had failed in her mission to expand and wield the territory as her own, but her conquest of the beachhead was where her mark would be left. 



Sith-Imperial Forward Command

 Commanded by Exodus



Fleet Command (Flagship)
High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Augmentation: Axial Weapon
Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |13/15|

Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence
Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP
Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |20/20|

Precision Strike Carrier Group: Fighter Command
Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Acclamator II-Class Assault Ship, Typhoon 
EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, Basilisk |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Ambush |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Caldwell |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Kilchreest |0/0|
CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Foxhound 



Sith-Imperial Command

Commanded by Nok Morliss




Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |6/0|



Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |4/6|

Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |0/0|



Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters

Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus)

Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP

Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9|




Sith-Imperial Command

Commanded by Nyrys




Argent Scythe (Railgun Destroyer)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Fair Lady of Iziz |6/0|



Veil of Shadows (Light Defensive Escort)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Jendra’s Song |3/3|

Atani’s Vigil |3/3|

The Lucky Pair |1/0|

Xuri’s Resolve |0/0|

Alpha |0/0|

Beta |0/0|

Gamma |2/1|

Omicron |2/1|


Abyss Triumphant (Interdiction Cadre)

Commander: Nyrys
Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP

Bewitching Lover (Interdictor) |9/9|

Lovelorn Wraith |3/3|

Lust |2/1|

Envy |2/1|

Desire |2/1|

Betrayal |2/1|

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The air was thick with anxiety and fear, and albeit a silent ride the shuttle was rough. Kahla grasped a handrail, letting the anxiety consume her. Her heart sank and she began to dwell on the thought of failure. Not only the looming threat of death, but should she show mercy to any enemy, surely she would be punished. This would be to the death, and the fear of failure shall fuel her.


Starfighters whizzed by, their attention tuned to their own battles. Good hunting she thought to herself, eyeing the Sith fighters. The shuttle began shivering not long after as it touched down. Darkness consumed the vessel with the lights out, but also with the fury and malice of the Sith presence. Yet still she felt the light, blinding in the shade. The impurity dug into her and served only to further her hatred.


She would seek out the embers of light contrasting in the foreboding shadows. She would snuff the fires of resistance before they could get a foothold. Adrenaline pumping through her veins waiting for the chance to strike a foe. On this day not only would she earn her position, but she would earn her master's respect.

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Mordecai stepped off of the transport, taking his time to observe the surroundings as an avalanche of footsteps echoed around his, the team of troopers he had brought along filing out and awaiting his orders. His apprentice waited behind him as well. She could feel it too- good. She knew of the blight upon this ship. He closed his eyes, getting a sense for their direction. It wasn't hard, though even as he felt for them he could sense the waves tearing at their psyche. One was close already. Madness whispered through the ship, with the tint of something more sinister. Interesting.


Another, the brightest, was tainted with death. They had killed before. An Imperial Knight, perhaps? The thought lapped at his mind, digging deep at his own emotions. False Jedi, not brave enough to stand on their own, and foolishly serving a false Empress. Raven. A weak child. He had witnessed her defeat himself, in the ashes of his shame. Those who had bested him had been strong- he respected them for that, at least. And yet, they served one who could barely stand her own against a creature that was not even true Sith, as he had later learned. A nightsister. A perplexing enigma, though not one he was likely to solve soon.


The third was dimmer, relatively untainted by death and suffering. They were either young, sheltered, or both. A padawan, perhaps? A smile crept upon his face, sick fascination made manifest. An interesting group, indeed. Perhaps... Perhaps he should sate his curiosity. He turned to his apprentice.


"Feel their fear. Their loss. Relish in it. Meditate on it. Stay here, and secure this hangar. These troops are now under your command- I'd prefer if you did not waste their lives on trivial displays of power, however. I will return in time. I have a light to snuff out."



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She wore a wide grin and did as her master instructed. Focusing hard on the emotions, turbulent as the ride over. "Very good, my lord" she responded before turning to the troops. "You heard him, Secure the hangar, When clear, take firing positions behind cover and on the catwalks. Open fire only when the enemy thinks themselves safe." While her experience in combat was limited, she had faith in her strategy. She could prove herself in this conflict as a reliable commander. But she wouldn't let her aspirations cloud her vision. Daydreaming can be done later. Ahead of her was her first true challenge, and she would meet it with arms wide.

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Let me start out by telling you both how much I enjoyed your duel. A Sith Lord that was not stereotypically rage-fueled and dark = monster matched against a light side crusader bent on destroying the darkness, but is not good = stupid, was quite refreshing. I knew little about either character besides what I gleaned from chats, so this duel allowed me to see each with fresh eyes. Each character came to this duel with plenty of history.  Each roleplayer came to this duel with years of dedication and experience. There was not one thing that tipped the scale for either combatant in a way that would not be or could not be countered by the other.


I was left scrambling for everything from guides and character sheets to Merriam-Webster’s best seller. I drew the line at translating text and becoming educated in swordplay (Describing is better than labelling).

There were two things I greatly appreciated in this duel. The first was the flashbacks. Normally, these can break up the flow of a post, especially in combat. This time, however, that flashback was brought to bear as a potent weapon and tie this duel into aspects of the galaxy. The second was the fact that this entire duel could almost have been fought without weapons. The weapons played a part, but a lot of this duel was mental or metaphysical. It was anything but typical or what I was expecting. 

Oh, wait! There was a third. Chucking a snackbar at your opponent’s face before the duel and eating it was entertaining.


All that being said, this duel came down to a few key items for me: fire, the force, and damage.


1st fire: It was quite exciting to see two characters from the opposite sides apply fire. The flames clearly came from different places within the characters and were utilized differently. Holy fire and unholy fire were blasted back and forth. One could argue fire is fire, but it seems quite clear that they are not the same. As such, each fire is unique and ascribed to it’s own side of the force. 


2nd the force: The move Silence threw me for a loop. I reached out to both sides relating to this move and it’s application. I also went and read the write up for the move. As an aside, when utilizing moves beyond normal applications of the force, links are awesome! Kyrie’s attempt to interrupt Nyrys’ access to the force ought not have been strong enough to completely disconnect an opponent from the force, but only to make accessing the force more challenging. The guide is very specific in this matter. I am not sure if there was confusion on this and can understand where it would have risen from without knowing about the specific move and it’s write up. Communication between combatants OOCly can be a very important tool in writing the ebb and flow of a duel.


3rd damage: This duel pits opponents of differing power levels against one another. This is not something that concerns me in the least. David still slew Goliath. Goliath just had cooler toys. Each side could and did take damage. With seasoned roleplayers like you, I was not worried that each of you would attempt to call/take hits appropriately.  

Both sides received some damages that will have lasting effects beyond Corellia to where individuals can receive appropriate treatment. Fire is bad mm’kay. Like really really bad.

Had this duel continued on any further, Nyrys would have been severely disadvantaged from her final post. It seemed clear that the battle was swinging in Kyrie’s favor. That being said, I am not sure what the near future would hold for Nyrys moving forward. Was the darkness purged? Would a warrior of the light strike down an unarmed enemy pulled clear from the darkness and teetering on a precipice of unknown?


With all of this in mind, I determined that the winner of this duel is : KYRIE 

This was not an easy ruling to make and both parties should take pride in their writing abilities and in writing an awesome duel. Next time you two go toe to toe, let me know! I want to witness it.


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Just behind them, there was a roar as the sublights of Armiena’s ship blazed to life and propelled it from the Goliath. Its departure drew fire from a pair of TIE Fighters, but only for them to peel away once it was observed that the ship was not taking evasive maneuvers, returning their fire--or indeed behaving in any manner other than that of a freighter on autopilot. For the Jedi that it left behind, it was left to them to conquer or die. That wasn’t unfamiliar territory for the veteran Jedi--but the last time that she had led a boarding party, it wasn’t a former Dark Lord of the Sith that she was expecting to watch her back. While Ryu hoisted the body of a fallen Sith trooper as a human shield, Draygo coolly stepped out from behind his advance, swiping away blaster bolts from the remaining two stormtroopers with almost contemptuous ease.


There was a brief lull in the blaster fire just as the lights of the service corridor shut off with a metallic clang. The veteran Jedi danced to one side, knowing what was coming next. The next volley of fire was a wave of azure stun blasts that left her left arm tingling in their wake. Draygo drew her blaster pistol and spat a pair of stun blasts into the floor, causing the two Sith troopers to tumble to the ground amid a battery of silent curses. Draygo strode over to the fallen Sith troopers, calmly trading fire until the resistance was finally silenced by a pair of stun blasts to one’s neck and the other’s wrists.


“Ryu, Genesis,” Draygo turned to face her companions, her face illuminated only by a meager beam of turquoise. “This is a smash and run. Guessing there’s a turbolift shaft about four hundred meters up. We hit the bridge and start breaking things. Priority is comms and helm. Ryu--Ryu!


The Dark Lord was staring down the corridor as though attempting to discern a vague shadow a hundred meters away. She should have known. He had only just escaped five years of imprisonment in the dark, with nothing but his own tormented thoughts to keep him company. It should have been perfectly predictable that he would be erratic in the pitch darkness of a starship. Draygo marched several meters up the corridor, scanning the walls in the trembling light of her weapon. Finally--she located the local power distribution module, a little box of circuit breakers, fuses, capacitors, and transformers. “Should be on a separate circuit…. schutta!” Armiena yelped as she slashed through the circuit panel. A shower of sparks and burning metal burst from the wall, bathing her in blinding light. As the murmur of ventilation shafts died and the glare of the electrical fire died, she was illuminated in the combating shades of crimson and amber from the local emergency glowlamps.

Draygo gestured with her lightsaber and set off on a jog. Midstep she was muttering into a comlink, “Draygo--requesting reinforcements aboard Goliath. Will need extraction--repeat, will need extraction from Goliath…”

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The Song changed its rhythm and the Master of the Exorcists stared beyond the silver orange glow of the saber-spear to a now fallen opponent. She was surprised, in the rush of war she had not foreseen the fall. She had miscalculated and struck out against the Sith without first stretching to feel

There was little darkness left in the darkening Forest, and there was only a slight touch of it upon the wind. The other Darkside presence within Coronet city had been extinguished completely, while the one before her was weak to the point of non-existence.  Kyrie breathed in, listening.

The air tasted of death upon a faraway breeze, but there was something else beyond the natural smells of a forest, even one that was partially ablaze. Deeper than the aroma of boiling sap. A corruption was what the spirits spoke of.

The Song vanished as she exhaled, and the full sound of the Forest swarmed in around her. The crackling of dried underbrush ablaze. The worried calls of nightbirds. The echo of a heartbeat behind her. The Exorcist turned and stared at its source, the fallen Wyrmsteel blade of the Sith Pyromancer. She shifted her gaze to the fallen woman and saw a rise and fall of her chest.

The Sithling still lived.

The Imperial Knight extinguished her lightsaber with a satisfying snap-hiss and strode carefully to the Sword, listening. It bore a heartbeat, but one as if heard across a placid lake, echoed and formless. A name sprang to her mind as she touched its hilt

…Gwn Marwolaeth…

A burning hunger crawled up her spine as she ripped the Sith’s blade from the forest floor, and the forest itself seemed to relax. With the relief a wash of pain roared through Kyrie, as her own concentration and adrenaline began to fade. She hissed and looked to the blistered flesh on her arms, and the trickle of blood that leaked through scorch-lined cracks in her left greave.

With greater effort, the Imperial Knight hobbled to the fallen form of the Sith Assassin, watching the pained breaths come from the form, accompanied by a mewing cough. Her probisci flicked at the air, tasting and wanting.


The Exorcist breathed in a staggered breath, holding the sith sword up, her every instinct crying for her to strike the blade into her opponent’s flesh.


The probisci writhed in her vision and she breathed in another breath, this one more determined, and she spoke aloud to herself.

Ardenter, oh, that gluttonous eagerness…

The sword rose higher and the Exorcist screamed and forced her probisci to touch the Wyrmsteel

May you devour poison!

Her scream became frantic as she drew the heartbeat from the sword itself, casting it into the fires of her own heart. Pain rushed through all of her, for it was like swallowing a viper’s fangs. She hugged the Wyrmsteel to her breast and cried, collapsing beside the Sith’s broken form.

She took upon herself the sins of Gwn Marwolaeth and consumed them like they were her own. She had to consume to burn away evil. Her screams began to subside as the name was burned into her soul. The heartbeat she did not destroy but purged with her own agony. The sword’s words were of death, but they were also familiar. Long ago her father Harjav had named her sister Hayley as his inspiration in such a tongue, calling her thereafter Awenydd.

The Master of Exorcists gave the sword a new name, Llafn Tân, or The Blade of Fire and laid it on the Sith’s chest, wrapping the woman's fingers about the hilt.

Drawing from her belt the medkit, she slipped the knives from the Sith’s shoulders, packing the wounds with clotting form bacta. She only had one usable bacta spray and used it on the Sith’s wounds before she bound them with scraps from her Kama.

A Sith redeemed was far better to the Force than a dead one.

With the Sith medically stabilized, she slipped away, back to her own ship in order to meditate and heal.



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The aural whir of structural ventilation droned to a slow whine, and then a dismal moan. Residual pressure wheezed into the dark hall, while a bloodthirsty flush of red flickered alive from reserved power. Darkness still conquered, and while the ambient noises quieted from the machinery and blaster-fire, a long-winded hiss became noticeable. Sounds of metallic canisters hit the floor, skipping closer to the boarders, and also further away. The hissing became layered, dropping in fews while the emergency color around them suddenly dimmed. Thick, swollen smoke escaped the brass tins; quickly swallowing the halls in an impenetrable smog. 


Behind doors that now sealed themselves into impassibility, an inharmonious cheer began to stir. Deck plates were hammered beneath boot, echoes carried by the drained ventilation ducts, a roaring of dark energy that lapsed the entirety of the mighty Goliath. The Sith War Machine cried out, bellowing loudly, and clamoring for their earned supremacy; they were chanting in symmetry now, each of them for their fallen brothers and sisters of this battle. From the Imperial servicemen of this legendary vessel, to the shamanistic howls of the nightsisters, their growing choir became chilling. Hundreds upon thousands belonging to a powerful Imperial fraternity, stomping to a contagious euphony, and this was their arena.


Exodus watched the trespassers curiously, a noble patriarch brooding over his failing children, the similarities were not scarce. They wandered about as stray, lumberous brutes, hacking at the air, and exerting themselves with the small fish. When the cute skirmishes came to a crawl, the Dark King spoke through the shadows, echoing evenly throughout the hall as if the walls shuddered as gills to the tone of his jarring voice. Sinisterly smooth, rasping as if every word was birthed from a much darker place than this.


“...Welcome. You have chosen your graves unwisely, I shall be your ferryman.”

A wolfish smile behind a mask was the only punctuation he afforded them.


(Duel request for OK, KR, and whoever else within this opening window.)


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It came to no surprise there would be conflicts in the galaxy. Between the Sith and the Galactic Alliance there would be bloodshed, one to rule supreme and the other... to rule supreme. In the eyes of the Trandoshan Chieftain Vox Stormblood, the Alliance alongside the original empire was a force of its own. Maybe not so much a tyrant but a political behemoth from what he's heard, the Chieftain figured the price of freedom would always come with a form of government. Can't people out aside their differences and just live life? 


That was a hard no. Vox knew as long as there was peace there would be war, his tribes conflicts against the Slavers on Trandosha was evidence of that. And this was the case, a tribe against the raiders. In his case, the War Pack against a much larger empire, fighting alongside a systems alliance. It had been three days since his deal with a Jedi of the Original Empire, after trying to figure out their name, Vox agreed to aid the Alliance in their war against the Black Cloaks, the Sith, in return they would help the Nudono tribe search a flourishing world vacant from the Sith. A world where the Nudono Trandoshans can start over and begin anew, the people free of the Sith... and away from the advanced planets and even away from the Alliance itself. 


The assault shuttle Vox stood in rocked, shots from below taken from below, above, or from any of the sides. There weren't any windows to view from, probably for the best, but Vox could tell there was a curious gaze about his younger sibling and second beta, Chaox. Where the brothers mind was, it wasn't on the battle to come. As a matter of factley, Chaox was slowly loading his Puncture rifle, leisurely fitting the strand of grenades one at a time. Equinox and Rylast were still as stone, both without their shields but at least fitted with a full set of armor. 


Chaox cleared his throat and Vox looked to him, the expressionless helmet of Vox looking over as he began to speak quietly, "I have a bad feeling about this, Vox. Here we could get shot out of the sky, but there we could get... something's telling us not to go. Call it paranoia." 


The Chieftain rest a hand on his brothers steel shoulder and replied, "Worry not. All might be fine and this will likely be another victory." 


But all may not be fine. This was a flagship of all things they were boarding. An opening made and it seemed the Alliance forces were taking advantage of it. If only the other three were here; Varsus, Krexis, and Romulus. The latter being a technophobe in an enemy ship, he was depressed that he wasn't the one to help with jacking the two star destroyers. The middle was their best sniper, Krexis was skilled in hand to hand as well and generally knew how to stay hidden. Varsus, the former, was always eager to jump in and experience the combat. But due to damaged equipment and weapons needing repair, Romulus stayed to do that, while the other two were recovering from old wounds. 


And in there, on the ship, Vox began to feel warning signs, Divine trying to tug him away at least not physically but to no avail. He felt he would need to rely on it this time, feeling... sensing something cold and growing colder the closer they grew. How the Alliance managed to get troops and ships aboard the vessel was beyond Vox. But either this will be a successful mission... or it would be a failure that resulted in death or retreat. The retreating would be wise, and well death, how could he lead his people to prosperity if there was no chieftain? 

The ships pilot spoke over the assault shuttles intercom, stating that they had entered the flagship and would be landing now. Vox bumped Chaox, sensing a nervousness that was unlike the more brutal of the three brothers, "We'll make it through. We always have, and always will." 


The quad Trandoshans, amongst a few squads of Alliance soldiers, felt the sudden jerk as the ship landed. The doors opened, and the Trandoshans were to be the last to exit the shuttle. As they moved forward Vox's heart raced and already he felt tensed, normally this wasn't the case. Being here, on this ship, it all felt wrong, but if this was the cost of the deal, them so be it. Of the last of the soldiers spewing from the hull there came four armored behemoths, wielding primitive and brutal weapons that have claimed many lives. Here, if they didn't accomplish their goal, they would leave a mark. 

Edited by Vox
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Stalking in the dark, Kahla watched as the shuttle land clunkily. It hissed as the doors opened, and Alliance troops pored out. While they looked ready for a fight, they weren't going to be worth her time. No, she sensed something else, something stronger. Her emotions stormed in her head, senses screaming at her of a foe worthy to fight. Then stepped down a group of Trandoshans, armed to the teeth, even if their weapons looked barbaric in nature. Bounty hunters? Mercenaries? It didn't matter. Not only did they look like they could handle a Sith, but that they had before and come out victorious. This first fight would be hard, but Kahla focused, grasping her saber's hilt and holding it to her side. She waited as the troops scattered, either taking their position and waiting orders, or making their way into the halls.


Of the four hulks that stepped out of the transport there was one to stand out, her senses drawing her towards him. Her blade ignited, sending orange hues cascading against the durasteel panels. Her saber pointed down to the floor beneath her.


She spoke with a raspy malice, threatening the Trandoshan directly. "Leave now, or I will teach you to fear mortality."

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Vox and co. exited the shuttle his attention was immediately brought to the igniting of orange hues. By now most the squads would be scattered, Equinox and Rylast taking point as usual sides with another group. Vox happened to look up at the Sith, and in common she spoke, "Leave now, or I will teach you to fear mortality."


"She arouses me, Vox." Chaox said in Nudono, a slight grin invisible behind the helmet. 


"You call that attractive?" Vox replied, the two brothers chuckling at her remark, even easing the tension they both had. It was all he really had from having a nervous breakdown, both Vox and Chaox. It was what they had to truly prepare for the battle ahead with an enemy literally in front of them, calmness far better than pure anger. Vox nudged his head slightly, and with a slight wave of his fingers Chaox understood but took off after the other two soldiers. This was Vox's fight, and no one else's, though he couldn't help but feel that perhaps Chaox wanted in on this... No, they can handle the rest, this woman was his.


Vox then thought something witty. For the first time in a long time he'd knew he was in trouble, and when it was just he and this woman, possibly very powerful Sith, he merely felt calm and relaxed. Though the tension brewing did not stop churning. With a sigh, Vox stared at her, with his Puncture rifle being holstered and his twin Spikers clipped to either side, Vox pulled from his back the absurd weapon.  A staff weapon fitted with an elongated sword-like blade, he activated the main component within the staff itself. In a plague like green, the metal blade sparked to life. Half an hour was all Vox had, and that was plenty of time. 


In Trandoshan, Vox said to the woman in a dramatic tone, raising the staff held fist in mock, "You dare speak to a god about mortality, wench?!" 


Vox then stated, "Leave now, or I will teach you to fear Mortality!"


Edited by Vox
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The Trandoshan's resistance infuriated her, and to mock her? She wouldn't just defeat him, she would punish him. Her troops remained hidden, and by her lack of order did not fire. She knowingly let them stay their weapons, honouring the nature of this duel. If he sent off his troops to face her alone then he wanted the glory to himself. She would use that, humiliate him for his failure to slay a lone apprentice. The thugs would be no match for her master, nor the other sith lords that awaited them.


While she didn't understand what he said in reply, she knew it wasn't in surrender. "So be it." her lips curled from grin to a scowl.


She lit a handflare, its bright red smoke pouring into the air as she tossed it towards the shuttle behind the behemoth. With fury she charged, her mind racing as she thought out her battle. He was big, but was he fast? With swiftness she would strike low, towards his knees, using the momentum she flicked her wrist back up towards his chest, his comrades comment serving to enrage her and empower her swing.



Edited by Zendrin
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  • The Battle Line Escort group (Minotaur) is still escorting the Sith Flagship (Goliath)
  • The Light Defensive Escort (Veil of Shadows) moves to escort the retreating Missile Destroyer Group (Moon Beetle/Broken Bullet)
  • All remaining ships move to retreat, yielding the battleground
  • Starfighters swarm in a forward deployment for an extended length of time (four turns), reducing their effectiveness at damage mitigation completely
  • Starfighters swarm in a focused deployment around the Battle Line Escort group (Minotaur)
  • Starfighters swarm in a focused deployment around the Sith Flagship (Goliath)



  • The Light Defensive Escort (Phobos) is still escorting Precision Strike: Carrier Group (Enyo)
  • The Rapid Intervention Escort (Seraphim) now moves to escort the Precision Strike Carrier Group (Anastasia)
  • Starfighters swarm in a forward deployment for an extended length of time (three turns), reducing their effectiveness accordingly
  • Starfighters swarm in a focused deployment around the Precision Strike Carrier Group (Anastasia)
  • Starfighters swarm in a focused deployment around the Destroyer Group: Turbolasers (Deimos)

Incoming Task Force Damage:

  • Veil of Shadows (Light Defensive Escort) Damage:  3 HULL damage (Ignored Hellriders) + 6 damage (Sairdonga turbolasers) + 4 damage (Deimos turbolasers) - 2 damage (Multiple attacking TF penalty) = 8 damage AND 3 HULL damage
  • Sith Flagship (Goliath) Damage: 3 HULL damage (Ignored Hellriders)


Incoming Starfighter damage:

  • Sith Flagship (Goliath) Damage: 11 damage (2x Bombers Inbound from Veteran Enyo, 1x normal Bombers Inbound, focused deployment forces damage to shields, DELAYED)
  • Veil of Shadows (Light Defensive Escort) Damage:  3 HULL damage (1x normal Bombers Inbound vs missile group (intercepted), DELAYED)





I made a ruling here that allows groups to escort other groups while angling to escape via hyperspace, as it is a matter of positioning and covering fire. After having discussed it at length with Chad, this is the new standard moving forward. The alternative is kicking a downed opponent, and that's not in line with the spirit of sportsmanship reflected in most of the other rules.

Edited by Ary the Grey

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com


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Vox's smirk faded when the Sith charged, malicious intent was the only expression he could as she moved fast. Very fast. He was no halfwit though. Vox watched the woman carefully and as she quickly swung at his knees he spun the glaive in his hands and blocked the first strike, then Vox dropped and rolled back dodging the next attack and unholstered his Spiker. Raising the weapon he held down the weapons trigger and spewed forth not the typical single shot of a blaster bolt, but a volley of automatic spikes. 


As he regained his footing Vox rushed forward in an unexpected speed and swung his Glaive in a long horizontal ark. He'd then bring the weapon back and thrust it forward, allowing the weapon to slip from his grasp but grip it when he reached it's middle. His movements weren't barbaric but spoke gracefully, moving much like a flow of water metaphorically. 



Edited by Vox
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The hunter moved with surprising finesse, as he rolled back she saw him reach for his blaster. She reached out in the force, pulling the flare back towards the back of her opponent. At that moment she realized the nature of his weapon as the burst of spikes hurtled towards her. There was no way she could block it all, even with the force. She ducked to the right hastily, but not quick enough as she took a glancing hit to her ribs. And as the shock of pain wormed its way through her body, another round embedded itself into her left arm.


The burn of the metal charring her flesh aggravated Kahla. His next swing came wide, so she pressed forward ducking below his relatively high swing while stabbing her saber towards his stomach.


He reared for his third attack, a stabbing lunge. She felt the burn of the blade hit her right shoulder as she stepped wide to the right. As it pressed she spun, using the momentum to swing her saber across his chest. The burning corded through her veins, she focused on the pain, it would fuel her fury and embolden her connection to the force.



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Vox felt the sudden clunk against his armor and he threatened a glance and actually took a quick look. That was enough to give the woman time to pull her attacks. When he swing his weapon the Sith ducked into the attack and struck his stomach. Warning signs going off in the fight or flight, he was able to maneuver his way away from the attack by clumsily backing away in haste, however the energy blade still pierced his armor. The intense heat touched his scales and quickly it severely burned him, but the pain did nothing to help the situation. He would turn for his third attack and another strike came in, except she successfully sliced at Vox's chest. 


The pain was severe but the cut wasn't deep enough to slice through him... Instead Vox would be missing scales and even muscle. And the pain was what ignited his anger. It flashed in Vox's mind, what these Sith, these Black Cloaks shot down his people, sent Slavers after them, and it began to come back. An anger passed through but it wasn't explosive, it was a calm wrath that felt... To any regular individual it would be gravely disturbing. 


Focusing on his hurt and hatred, Vox rolled to the side and threw his first Spiker at the Sith, then pulled out his second gun and began a barrage until the clip was empty. Vox would then charge, grasping the middle of the Glaive he swung the weapon thrice: the first was a horizontal swing of green that was low to him, but was at the hips. The second was a right diagonally slash and spun delivering another left diagonal slash. He then pushed forward with a thrust, his speed was great and his strength relentlessly furious, the only thing on his mind was defeating the Sith. Killing or letting live would come later 



Edited by Vox
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She could sense his anger growing, that he was giving in. She could use this against him, push him over the top. As she contemplated her next moves he threw his firearm at her. Startled, she quickly dodged to the right once more. The twin blades sliced through the flesh of her shoulder. But she didn't have time to worry about the blood now slowly spilling onto her robes. She bolted, sprinting, jumping and sliding as the spikes of his second weapon chased her. His tracking was good, better yet was his lead, as a few bolts glanced her, tugging at the cloth she wore and burning against her skin.


She came to a stop with the click of an empty weapon. She turned to face him with her weapon ready, unexpectedly he charged her, swinging at her hips. She held her saber strong, planting her feet into the steel paneling as his weapon impacted hers. Had she not leaned into the sing he would have easily knocked her off balance. He would follow through to a diagonal slash she had to jump back to avoid, Quickly he swung another diagonal swing, but seeing him wind up for it gave Kahla time to prepare to deflect it with her saber. Once again the power of his strike pushed hard against her, this time causing her to stumble. As her footing slipped so did her blade, at fist she didn't notice the burn across her arm, but she felt herself get pushed.


She felt his rage rise, he was at his brink. It was time to push him over. She disengaged her lightsaber before pulling another flare. She threw it at the creatures face before slipping back into the darkness. She lurked, quickly making her way around the hangar.


"Good, Give in to your hatred. You would make a wonderful sith..." Her voice echoed against the metal walls as she swiftly and quietly darted around the large room. The darkness her shroud, and a weapon she would use to the fullest. "You're fighting for the wrong side, Imagine the power you could wield." She continued stalking in the shadows. When she'd finally positioned herself behind him, she charged, her saber ignited as she lifted high. With pain still coursing through her she twisted her anger into her weapon. With utmost force she brought her blade down. Quickly she brought the hilt back towards her center, and stabbed hard towards him. This final assault she would give everything she had. She knew even if she fell, she would make him fall to the dark side.



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((Duel accepted.))

"Fear Leads To..."

As Ryu and Armiena charged through the widening path, he listened to her calling for extraction. Still carrying the dead stormtrooper as a shield, he was starting to become suspicious that he had not taken any blaster fire in some time. That was when the smoke canisters rattled, invisible to his eyes, and began belching smoke. An instant later the door sealed behind them, leaving the party isolated on the hostile vessel. That’s when Ryu knew that the plan was ruined, and this was a trap. They had walked into a spider’s web. He could hear the strange drumming that had been stalking him since before he’d even boarded this ship, now louder than ever before.  Every second after that was a further escalation of his panic.

The black smoke filled his nose and he began to cough and hack, his eyes burning the gas quickly filled the room. The drumming in his head grew louder.

The lights dimmed, leaving him nearly entirely blind. The only thing he could make out was Armiena’s turquoise blade, until that too became lost in the thickening smog. The drumming grew oppressive.

Unable to see anything, he heard a noise from Genesis’s direction, like his voice but growing farther rapidly. Just like that, Ryu felt certain he was gone. Definitely beyond his ability to chase. Possibly Beyond Armiena’s reach. Potentially beyond saving at all.  Sound was drowned out entirely by drumming.

And finally, he heard it clear enough to tell what it really was. Thousands cheering and stomping in unison, one constant drum beat. This was the noise he had been hearing all along, the cheers of thousands in anticipation of this moment, voices blended into a constant booming pulse that assaulted his ears and sundered his mind.

Ryu wondered if he had never escaped his cell, if this was just a continuation of his sensory deprived torture and the events leading him here had just been more hallucinations. Regardless, when the voice assured him that this was the place he would die, he sincerely believed it was true. Had the noise been a warning? A warning would suggest that this was avoidable, and though Ryu had every opportunity to go another way, he somehow felt that this was still inevitable. The Spectre of his nightmares--the skull masked fiend that had terrorized him while he sat alone in the dark--had led him here. From the moment this ship had arrived on the battlefield it was creating a sort of magnetism that was drawing him inexorably to this spot, where untold legions assembled to witness what was likely to be his evisceration.

In his head he could see the faces of the dead, crying out and pounding their feet in the massive unseen arena, gathered to witness the moment they would be avenged. Soldiers from a dozen armies and civilian militias with their faces and torsos mangled in unsurvivable ways. Jedi, Sith, Civilians and children in endless rows, crying out in unison for blood. And over top of their voices he heard the cold hideous mechanical laughter of the man in the Skull mask, taunting him behind it all.

Amid all the animosity he felt swirling around him, he had the notion that the force was bringing down judgement for the crimes he had forgotten but was certain he was guilty of. Amid his unbridled terror, he knew now that this was to be his grave. But Ryu would not concede to death, it would have to take him. Whether it was one man or 100,000 that meant to kill him--he would fight to live. 

Still retching from the dense smog, Ryu let go of the breastplate of the stormtrooper, allowing the corpse to fall toward the ground. He reached back to his belt and pulled one of the flash bang grenades he'd grabbed off of Armiena's ship. Starting to run, he activated the fuse and overhanded it as hard as he could in the direction of the voice. When the grenade exploded it made a light bright enough to cast a silhouette of the man before him. It wasn't much, but it gave Ryu enough of an impression of his foes' location to know where to attack.

Ryu broke into a reckless sprint to charge the malicious shadow. As he approached he pointed his shoulder forward and drew his hand back toward his chest. At the last moment he flung his arm vertically, catching the lightsaber that had been tethered to his wrist as far down the grip as he could manage while still pressing the activation button. At shoulder height for full range he swept the blade horizontally, activating it at the last possible moment. He meant to catch his foe off guard by making an attack at the very edge of his range. He didn't have a perfect impression of where the enemy was, but he was sure he'd be very close. Using the speed of his run, his arm, and the activation of his blade simultaneously to advance the green lightsaber forward at frightening speed, Ryu thought he might hit the foe before he realized that he was within Ryu’s reach.




Edited by Kakuto Ryu
formatting, grammar


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Though he was fast, she was faster. Though he landed blow after blow, she still stood strong. Vox began his descent down to a berserkers rage, and when the Sith slipped into the shadows he could no longer see her. He breathing was heavy and his veins throbbed, the pain doing nothing to help his current condition. He was ready to roar at the woman's words, angering him more until he felt a sudden chill, a calm hand touching his shoulder. Vox swung his blade wildly around until he faced nothing. 


The burden he carried, the death of his tribespeople, Atrinox's betrayal, his exile, the Slavers... The death of his father. All of it was catching up to him. You're fighting for the wrong side, Imagine the power you could wield. Gods, Vox realized he was becoming too much like these Black Cloaks, too much like Atrinox. His breathing slowed and he closed his eyes, holding the weapon in front of him and focusing on the light of the green blade that produced some luminescence even behind closed eyes. How could a chieftain of the Nudono succumb to his emotions, let alone even fight in a fit of rage? He focused, allowing the sudden calm of silence to take him... To take everything away. It was what Divine wanted, he thought, and he knew he couldn't save everyone not even his own people. 


A test or no, Vox allowed his anger to slip, he blocked out any sorrow that would come rushing in, his emotions were blinding him and he hadn't even noticed till now. With nothing but the silence, he stood in a readied position, unmoving, listening. The veins still poked from the adrenaline, his heart still raced but he blocked the internal thumping of his own life source. Vox- no, the Chieftain, listened and waited. He was to be an example of his people, calm, compassionate, but firm and fierce even in combat. There was no glory in killing a foe, but there was in fighting for his people, there was no honor in enjoying death, instead there was honor in fighting alongside his brothers and sisters. 


For seconds, Vox kept listening until he heard the igniting of the blade. He quickly turned and just in time parried the Siths weapon just enough to slash his left shoulder, the pain wasn't as severe but still it was a good burn. She then brought her blade back and stabbed forward, Vox immediately met his weapons with hers and pushed forward, locking the two weapons in a hold. His gaze would meet here, his body close to his own weapon as sparked of orange, yellow, blue and green danced across. For a moment he actually forgave her, but not before shoving the woman forward with his weapon. Vox rushed in in with purpose, not anger or hatred, and swung his Glaive in a horizontal swing, quickly pulled his Puncture out from his back and threw the large blade-like weapon at her. Vox then spun as he threw the weapon, holding his Glaive with both hands and making a short controlled diagonal swing just was the Puncture reached her, then brought his blade back and thrusted it forward at her midsection. 



Edited by Vox
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His gaze met her own as their weapons clashed. In his eyes, no longer did she see the hatred he expressed previously. Kahla could sense his new calmness towards the battle, as if he'd come to terms with their position. She was infuriated. She had come so close to corrupting him only to fail at the very last moment. The pain she felt in her muscles from straining against his powerful attacks and the onslaught of damage she had taken reverberated in her mind.


Their blades screech echoed in the dark as she was shoved back. She gave into the push, following it as he swung his weapon just short of hitting her. She took stance as he reached to his back. She had seen the weapon only briefly, and it would mean business. She made ready to run again, out of the way of the shots that never came. Instead the weapon hurtled towards her. She evaded to the left, the blade of the weapon hitting her right forearm as she raised to defend from the charging beast. She could feel it slice through her muscle, but she had to press on. Her weapon ready, she deflected the short swing, his blade notching into her side. She yelled out not just in pain but in anger. The abuse she was enduring was starting to take its toll. She grimaced as he reared for another thrust, dodging to the left again as he stabbed forward, swinging her saber opposite to further deflect the devastating blow.


She couldn't but stare menacingly at the hunter. Her strength dwindling, her emotions storming, she held her saber across her body in defiance.



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Reading this duel, I want to commend you both for how quickly you got this duel completed. The lead up and battle all fit on the same page. I was not forced to to go searching for posts. This was awesome. That being said, I would urge each of you to proofread your posts. I noted several grammatical errors as I read and had to go back and reread some lines several times to try and make sense of certain aspects. I know that I can be guilty of this at times too, especially when excitedly rushing to get a post up; but it is especially important to watch for in PvP scenarios.


I would encourage each of you to look over your character sheets and ensure that they are updated to contain training and descriptions of weapons that are not readily defined on site or with wookiepedia. It would help make understanding some of the weapons for those of us that are truly Star Wars-centric easier. That being said, the usages of the weapons did help me understand their rough usage.


The flow of the battle worked well. Each side traded blows, and while I personally thought that some of them could or should have been more incapacitating, you each tooks shots and kept on plugging. 

Remember to respond to each attack or move from your enemy. Even if this is just a simple ‘dodged to the left’ that acknowledges the opponent’s action and does not leave it hanging out there. I really liked the color coding of defensive and offensive moves. That was a good idea and made focusing on moves and actions easier to comprehend. 

Strategy wise, both sides used different tactics that worked for their individual characters. Both sides sent off their respective NPCs and focused on the individual battle. So regardless of the winner of this duel, please remember that the battle did not occur in a vacuum and to address the other side’s NPCs.


I appreciated the attempt at turning Vox to the dark side. Additionally, I liked how Vox, clearly an apex predator, noted his decent towards the darkness and fought to correct it.


All of this being said, I have determined that the win for this duel goes to KAHLA. As such, the next post goes to Zendrin.


One major concern came with Vox locking weapons with Kahla and forcing her into a position where he then attacked again all in the same post. This does not allow the other player to respond and forces them to take actions that you wrote. Zendrin handled it well, but this type of thing is unacceptable in a duel. It is easy to slip into if one is not cognizant of such things.


Posts should span, in general, no more than 8-10 seconds of movement and should not chain together move after move after move without allowing one’s opponent to respond. 

Congratulations both of you. I enjoyed the duel and you both clearly put some thought into this and enjoyed writing it. Keep it up. I look forward to great things from both of you in the future.




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Mandalore stared at the darkening sky, listening to the crackling of the numerous fires that crackled across the Capital Thoroughfare. There was an odd peacefulness to the sound. She had listened as the cries of the wounded had dwindled down to nothing as her squad had done the devil’s work; the terrible butchery of the mortally wounded. She let a small sigh escape into the confines of her buy’ce and sat up stiffly, the aches and pains of battle coming to their fullness as the adrenaline was fully washed away.


Harjav was busily lining the dead, taking tags and personal effects. A whole platoon of special force troopers, several sniper teams, an E-Web squad, and an AT-ST team were lined shoulder to shoulder and boot to boot in a double line. Their helmets had been removed, showing the unfocused gaze of the dead into the Corellian sky. At their head was the Nightsister, Qaela, her Krath armor stained burgundy from the shots she had taken.


Terra stared into the unfocused eyes, looking to the corruption that overwhelmed them in death. Yellow as sulpher, lined with red. Sith always lost their humanity when they gave into the consuming desire for power. Terra stooped, picking up the Sith’s lightsaber from where it was placed on her breast. She stared at the ornate silver design and thumbed it on.




Blue fire leapt from her left hand, and Terra marveled at its clarity as she swung it in a slow arc about her. From her belt she produced the lightsaber of the fallen Grandmaster, Kitt Fitt, activating it with her right thumb. Arcs of blue and green fire spun about her as she moved through a basic saber-kata, remembering the steps as Lord Ar-Pharazon had taught her all those years ago.


Finishing the steps, the Mandalorian deactivated the blades and put one on each of her hips. The latest trophy in a long string of force user weapons she hoped to claim. A grinding static blasted behind her, indicating Hades’ arrival. The basilisk war droid bounded across the field to stand beside her and observe the damages. It broadcasted an incoming distress call, for her to acknowledge.


“Draygo--requesting reinforcements aboard Goliath. Will need extraction--repeat, will need extraction from Goliath…”


Mandalore frowned, staring at her men as they wearily shouldered their weapons and activated their homing beacons. Within seconds the air broke into sonic booms as basilisk war droids began to fall into place beside their riders. Harjav’s crimson-stained basilik, Thunrydd, came first, followed by the paired olive-drab metallic beasts Korydia and Ǽddyrah which were bound to Arna and Longkra. Aorn and Bas’ar’s Thenkara and Besha’dyr landed last, bound with armor plating of silver and sky-blue.


Terra swept her buy’ce from her head, shaking out her sweat-soaked auburn plait, giving them all a smile with her darkmetal teeth. She spoke slowly, her outer-rim accent sweeping the words in a lilting rhythm.


“It’s rumored the Dark Lord is aboard the Goliath, and his entire depraved army of filthy mutated beasts. We have secured Corellia, but now it’s time for The Forlorn Hope to take the fight to its natural conclusion…“


Each of them slipped into the control saddle of their basilisks and set their course towards the awaiting Goliath. It was time to restore their honor in full, and for that, there was only one course; the death of a Dark Lord. 


To the Death...

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In the break of combat the unmistakable sound of armour hurtling towards the door echoed in the hall. Boots thumping on the steel. Vox grinned, knowing his pack was coming to finish this skirmish. Kahla lifted her chin, smirking. He made a powerful charge towards her, lifting his glaive over his shoulder. She slide her left foot behind her, her weight planted firmly on her right. The heavy footsteps grew louder, any second they'd be all over her. Facing just one had proved a daunting task, but three more? She had to be quick.


Their weapons clashed, the impact drowning out the impending fireteam. Pushed back on her supporting foot, Kahla slid her saber forward, Vox's blade near the hilt of her weapon she sliced down and right. The end of her blade pierced his right brow, burning its way to his left cheek. As he recoiled from the pain she slid her blade below what served as his handguard, liberating the weapon from his grasp with a heavy swing.


The door hissed open, and the first volley of blaster fire rang out across the room. The hangar walls danced with hues of red and green as Kahla gave to order to return fire. From their advantageous positions, the Troopers started making short work of the Alliance soldiers. When the pack burst through the door, they didn't hesitate to launch grenades at the defending Sith. With the force she hauled the paneling up in front of her, creating a make shift shield of durrasteel. She had to hold it strong as blast after blast served to push back.


The engines of their transport boomed just as the barrage halted. With great fury Kahla lept from her cover, only in time to see the shuttle's rear leave the hangar. Only a few, now surrendering Alliance troops remained. Kahla tightened her fist, her rage contorting her thoughts. She cut down the rest of the soldiers without mercy, one after another, slash after slash.


The sith troopers came down from their position, one approached her. "We held the hangar, ma'am. Suffering two friendly casualties, three injuries." Her weapon disengaged as she breathed a sigh of relief. "Very good. Get the injured, and myself, medical attention." While she didn't secure the killing blow, she defeated the boarding foe, forcing them into retreat. Finally her pride had been earned. Comm link in hand, she reached out to her master.


"My lord, I've successfully driven off an enemy attack. We have minimal casualties, and sustained some injuries. What are your orders?"


The medic began tending to her gashes, her robes now soaked in blood. Kahla's spirits were high, glad she had proven her worth.

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To understand my mind at this moment, one must understand what brought me here. To understand my fear, doubt, and horror, one must first understand what led me there. It wasn't the moment in of its self that brought me to such emotion, but rather emotion that brought me to this moment. For I had known anger, rage, and hate so innocently pure in aspects few could fathom. From the day I slaughtered the offspring of those who slew my parents, where I vowed never to weild another weapon of death, to this moment, it had haunted me my entire existence.


So for me, in this moment, it wasn't just the darkness around me that i feared. No. It was what the darkness in me could become, especially around such a concentration of it. And as the emotions swirled a vortex around me, I could fill my own become intertwined, pulled and teased, like the spirits of yesteryear. And I was but a sensitive in its wake, feeling inept to fully combat it, even as i struggle within this ship known as Goliath. Even as i fought for what i felt was right.


As Ryu and Armiena fought faithfully on, I lingered in the back, hesitant and leary. I fought my own tension off by focusing on the Force and my breathing as I stood against the coldness I felt around me. It was as if I walked upon the River Styx and found myself lacking. And soon the winds shifted, smoke broiling upon's surface, threatening to swallow us whole. My eyes burned with bitterness, my tongue numb with flame as it encompassed us. I coughed against its toxicity, struggling to swim against it as I sank into its pit. And like any great body of water, it swallowed me. But not before I heard its forewarning as the darkness took me. Was it truly going to be my grave?




When I woke, I could not find Armiena nor Ryu, rushing to my feet in a panic as my eyes adjusted against the burning still setting them aflame and forcing them to bleed their fluids. My saber in hand, deactivated, I wiped away the tearing sensation, looking around this darkened pit of despair I had fallen into. I could no longer feel the weeping cold I once felt, but it still lingered nonetheless, its aura engulfing as far as I could sense, blinding me against the Force I desperately clung hold to.


It was pure panic, feeling alone in the depths of this would be grave, unable to feel my Master nor Ryu, unable to sense anything around me. It was just like before, that day upon Dantooine. It felt half a dream and partial reality, like a nightmare I was unable to wake from. Even as I gazed about in the darkness, it felt like nothingness, just as it did when I stood above the corpses of both my dead parents, the kath hounds, as well as their litter I slaughtered in darkness. It felt like hell, and it seems I was destined to once again walk its numbing halls. 


The only question that remained to be asked was a simple but true one. Would I survive it just as I had before? Or would its madness seep into me now that i was no longer an innocent?

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((Accepted for KR / OK v Exodus))


As the whisper of Goliath’s mechanical air filtration died, the smoke moved in and stung at Draygo’s eyes. Even the amber and crimson glow from the emergency lamps was soon swallowed by shadow. Those glowlamps were to provide damage control crews with some degree of illumination for many hours without an additional power supply. At seeing them extinguished, Armiena instantly understood that the darkness encroaching upon them was not the natural product of a ship that had lost power, but the arcane manipulations of a Sith, sitting in their lair like some great malevolent spider from old fairy tales, belching out shadows and swallowing up adventurers that had stumbled into her web. Unfortunately for this Sith, it had been decades since Draygo was last frightened by the dark--and even longer since she was afraid of Spiders.


Before she could shout out a warning to her Padawan and to Kakuto Ryu, the erstwhile Dark Lord had thrown out something ahead of her and charged. A dazzling flash and a crash of thunder emitted, illuminating the Sith for only an instant before Armiena’s vision was darkened by the flash blindness caused by the grenade. Only a heartbeat behind the berserker, Draygo sprinted to match his advance. Unlike the erstwhile Dark Lord, the veteran Jedi understood that she would have no use for her physical senses and extinguished the turquoise glow of her lightsaber. The rhythmic pounding of her boots against the durasteel deck would be the only warning of her advance--and in a moment, there would not even be that to alert the Spider. Draygo skidded to an almost-halt just as Ryu made a vicious swipe with his lightsaber blade and crouched to all fours on the armored deck. 


Calling to the Force, she pounced like an overgrown cat to fly past the wake of the viridian slash as well as its intended target. Much like the panthera that her charge emulated, the veteran Jedi hit the deck hands-first and she rolled to absorb the momentum of her advance. Upon stopping, she wheeled about and let slip the top half of her lightsaber. With a crack of escaping gas like a gunshot, the top half of the hilt launched itself towards the Spider on a wave of compressed gas, connected by the other half only by a delicate strand of liquid cable. It would pass unseen in the gloom to wrap itself around the Spider’s ankles and legs, potentially pitching him to the deck unless evaded.



Edited by ObliviousKnight
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Mordecai stalked through the darkened ship with ease. Where the Jedi had found themselves swallowed by it, he had leaned to embrace it. To flow through it, a divergent stream moving towards its ultimate destination. He was nearing not only the lonely motes of light, but a spewing geyser of hatred and contempt, smothering all hope and direction with ease. The Dark Lord. It must have been- he knew none other who could perform such a feat. He recognized the presence from his time over Dark Sun, aboard the Scarab. He had been distant then. Now he was close. So tantalizingly close. He rounded the corner to a large room, clear of all debris and all markings, finding inside...




He growled, letting out a frustrated shout full of anger and anticipation. Where were they? They should have been here. They were oh so close, and yet... Ah. He was underneath them. They were just on the floor above. He could feel the beginnings of their clash, Light fighting valiantly, if uselessly, against the Dark. He sneered. Then they were out of reach. He would need to find a way up; Or so he thought.


Just as he began to turn, he heard a hiss above. A single form fell, and through the opening... a glimpse. Mordecai could feel His power even from here, washing over him in a cacophonous wave of Dark Side energy. The Dark Lord. The feeling was short lived, however, as the opening sealed once more. The thud of a body caught his attention and he ignited his saber. A Jedi lay motionless, all but consumed by the irrefutable strength of the dark tide. he raised his saber, preparing to strike, but hesitated. Perhaps... perhaps he could aid the darkness.




Mordecai meditated, alone in the chamber aside from the unconscious Jedi. He drew on his emotions, gorging on them like a glutton gorged on the desserts of a great feast. Anger, yes. But also... Pride. He had received word from his apprentice- she had fought off her own assailants. With any hope, he would be leaving this ship with two, and his power would grow. He had ordered her to come to him, to witness his victory, whether it be martial or philosophical. With hope, she would arrive in time to gaze upon what true victory looked like.


He was disturbed from his meditation, however, when the Jedi stirred. Standing, he rested his hands on his lightsabers.


"Welcome to the Goliath, Jedi. You've met our host. You've gazed upon His inevitability. Perhaps, unlike the two fools above, you would be willing to... negotiate. I could sense great fear in you. Your anxieties are known to me. Your grief... your terror."


He stepped forward, his stature towering over the mere boy before him.


"With my help, you can be free of it all. Instead of bending to the will of your fear and anger, you will control your emotions. I know of what the Jedi teach. They teach peace, they teach kindness. This is not the true way. Through the Sith, your burdens are lifted."


He offered a hand, though he was too far away for the Jedi to take it. If this boy proved to be a zealot, Mordecai wouldn't lose a hand for his efforts.


Edited by Mavanger



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Vox's smirk faded as he charged forward. He was fast indeed and mustered any strength he had. But such was the tragedy in relying on brute strength in the final blow, and not on patience. The metal boots on the metal flooring was drowned out by the two assailants blades clashing, Vox felt the Black Cloaks blade slid gracefully as she made a slash across his face. His helm did nothing to protect against the hot weapon as it easily sliced through and cut his face. With the weapon so close to his eyes all he could see was a bright orange glow that blinded him. 


What was worse off, Vox felt his glaive leave his hand and he couldn't even see to correct that mistake. Where did he go wrong? Pride? Maybe. But it shouldn't have ended this way, he should have- and the doors opened as he fell to one knee, hearing blaster fire by the lot sounding the arena. Vox then felt hands grab him as he heard Equinoxes voice, "We are retreating! That's an order!" 


Moments before, the three Trandoshans were rushing back to the main hangar they boarded. They had allowed the two squads they followed to handle the enemy ahead and for the War Pack to head back and support their leader. They didn't hesitate. As they bust through the doors Chaox almost ran into his eldest brothers Puncture blade, and corrected his near mistake by swooping it up. And that's when he- they saw Vox collapse to a kneel. This sparked a sudden fit of rage as he looked to the woman who appeared ready for their arrival. 


Wielding both his and Vox's weapons, Chaox fired grenade shit after shot, Rylast getting idea to join in while Equinox scooped up Vox's Spikers and helped his Trandoshan leader to his feet. Putting an arm around the back of his neck, Equinox lead Vox out of harm's way. Looking back he noticed the plasma glaive still on the floor but just as he was about to change course enemies, from behind cover, began firing. He growled, knowing that losing the blade was not something Vox would like, but Equinox knew it'd be a death sentence. 


"We are retreating! That's an order!" 


Chaox didn't have to argue or agree with that order, he heard it over the comm link, for when he was depleted of his rounds more and more enemies shown up. He knew the War Pack could end them, but not with that harlot standing there smiling. They would meet their demise staying. Following while reloading his own weapon and providing cover fire, Chaox backed into the entrance of the assault shuttle they traveled on, done of the rebel soldiers returning fire as a few climbed on board. 


The doors closed and Vox was helped down into a seat. They felt the immediate jerk of the shuttle take off as the thumping of blaster fire ceased. There was an emptiness in his hands, the grasp of his blade loose and completely vacant. Vox should be ashamed... But he didn't. He should have felt defeat and it certainly lingered but what was born from it determination. He should have felt fear, but instead Vox felt relief. The Chieftain battled against an actual Sith and lived, a hard fought battle to add. The burning sensation across his face was painful but he rejoiced in it, it would be the mark of his first battle and never the last one as countless more would be earned. But now he needed to rest, then later, train. 


"Vox, can you hear me?" Equinox asked impatiently, "If so, nod your head." 


Vox only did that, nod to confirm that he heard his younger brother. He didn't want to speak in the matter would do nothing but curse from the pain the entire way home. Well, whatever their "Home" was. He sighed as the ride went from a vibrating to a smooth one, a jerk here and there as the remaining revel soldiers patched themselves up, not handling the retreat too well. Despite the Trandoshans capable of ripping them in half should they speak out of turn, even they knew it was a death sentence to stay there. 


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Familiarity sank deep into his chest, teasing him to entertain at least a sliver of emotion, but a dejected sense of perfection would not allow himself to surrender to distraction. Kakuto Ryu. He had felt the mimicry in the force, the vocation of a familiar presence from afar, but the treachery of the force had always been unpredictable. And here, the fates conspired to reveal his brother amidst the treasonous Jedi. Such a disgraceful desecration of the Goliath and the Sith as a whole, the paranoia of betrayal chewed at the back of his skull. As the battle for Corellia waged, the echo drew nearer, and nearer still as the boarders resigned themselves to suicide upon entry. Humiliation is what they offered, and for this profound underestimation, they would pay dearly with more than just their lives. 


Wide and wild kaleidoscopic eyes pierced the swallowing darkness that hauntingly loomed about the halls. Acrid smoke silently wisped in pours from the walls, from the emptying canisters, and from the Dark King himself as if the world around them was melting. Shadows; they were everywhere, pressing in on them with curious urgency and submerging their most fundamental motor functions into grave uncertainty, pilfering the confidence that the ordinary had within the light. But it was Darkness that had come to greet them now. They were lost. They were alone. And now they would be hunted. 


It was not hard to tell when Ryu loosely struck out at empty air; the writing on the wall appeared to be signs of neurosis or he was unsurprisingly inebriated past his limit. Did he have a hand in the downfall of Qaela and Nyrys? Could one sanctified in the blood of the trinity, really become slave to the doctrine of the Jedi? Were the Rebels so unlearned in the ways of war to walk these halls arrogantly, and with numbers such as these against the great fleet? Madness was in abundance, but he would set them straight.


The pitch was an easy read, Exodus held his hand toward the hand-munition as it launched and suspended it’s trajectory before the zenith of its arc, prematurely detonating the flash-bang shell. The loud fracture of noise was acutely disorienting for those over the mound at one-hundred and eighty decibels, accompanied simultaneously by a powerfully blinding flash. Built-in photosensors compensated for the direct influx of brilliance, while the noise muffled into a drum versus the helmet that royally curtained the head of the King. The shifting spectacle was aesthetic against the ghoulish shadowcast, but such a flash in the pan would only harm those not strictly prepared to win.     


Exodus smiled and prepared himself in stance as Ryu blindly charged forward now. From memory, the old man was sluggish and far from noted form, but as direct as any warrior true to their craze. The Jedi ran with him, deactivating her weapon and thumping forwards as the quick flash returned to lightlessness. The Assassin moved to meet them. The answering war-scream came from every direction at once and from none of them, and not by way of mouth, but by the breaking speed in which he moved. His quickness beckoned the cry of sound. The hungry march from the host of the Goliath amplified the anxiety of the moment, seemingly thousands slamming their feet against steel, chanting war as if ritual. Louder and louder. Were the shadows whispering now?


Darkness split open horizontally as Ryu struck out with his blade, unveiling a great leaping Spider looming suddenly before the Warrior, a mighty cadaverous god in midnight-clad, a ghastly revenant spewed from the shadows that stirred at Ryu with impossible speed. His half-twist layout flip was sprightly, graceful in execution as he angled himself mid-air to face the back of Ryu. The enemy blade scorched the air beneath the Assassin just as he launched himself cleanly over and behind broad shoulders, exchanging playing fields with the Jedi on the other end, purposefully keeping the warrior between the two. The Jedi was skidding, would she hit the Warrior? Pointing outward with his left hand before his feet could meet the floor, an unraveling of electricity harvested en-masse down the length of his left arm and shotgunned like a harpoon towards the spine of his brother. The electrifying release of Force Lightning was fired with the aggressive intent to puncture one foe and punch into the other, even if it were impossible. Landing firmly, the quick gathering of magnetism sizzled out into nothingness across his arm and his right hand readied his infamous hilt for battle. 







Edited by Exodus


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