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Star Wars New Sith Trials III: The War of Three

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Sinrebirth, May 27, 2018.

  1. Kaleesh-Cyborg

    Kaleesh-Cyborg Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jan 4, 2017
    General Grievance Vexx
    Ground Assault, Advance on the Citadel


    Vexx had known he would be taking punishment for his desperate risk, but “protect the guns at all costs” was not an order he would take lightly. “At all costs” means at the price of your life, a wager the Kaleesh general had obviously been willing to make as he draws all sorts of firepower from enemy lines. The blaster bolts are little more than stinging nuisances as they ping off his armor. So long as they don’t penetrate any jointed parts directly, they can do little damage, but the shelling is a different story.

    An explosion of red spatters against him and throws him sideways a good distance. Though the dust and rubble and the dizziness of his own head, he looks to see a crimson crater where one of Haretisch’s aspiring generals had been...prancing.
    Good riddance, Vexx thinks begrudgingly, I do not need clowns in my ranks. This is war, not a circus. The explosion had landed him facedown in the mud, the STAP he had stolen decimated under the shelling. He is dizzy and his organic parts throb from the impact. A sharp pain in his side draws his attention to a jagged piece of shrapnel jutting out from between his duranium ribs. He absently wonders if it might be a good idea to pull it out or leave it for a medic to deal with later. The conclusion is that he is no medic and his personal caretaker droid has been complaining of boredom anyway. He will leave it.

    Staggering to his feet, the cyborg wipes a glob of red-mottled mud out of his eyes and looks back toward his battalion, taking ground from the enemy as he had instructed when he had made the split second decision to put himself on the firing line. Good. His efforts have not been wasted. He ignites his lightsabers and sets them to spinning rapidly to protect himself from attacks in any given direction and growls reflexively as static crackles over his comlink.


    “Understood, Vanguard One,” he replies, his voice strained by the threat of a coughing spasm, “Be advised that we have taken the hill and the enemy is being pushed back as we speak. I will rejoin the troops and press the attack toward the Citadel. Vexx, out.”

    Plasma blades still spinning at a high velocity, Vexx moves to regroup with his forces and continue to press the attack. He is only just so aware that not all of the blood coagulating on his armor belongs to Darth Odeke. Some of it is his own, but caught up in the adrenaline rush, he remains unaware of anything aside from the sharp stabbing of the shrapnel in his side as he moves with a slight limp through the mud. He focuses his attention on Darth Francium, impressed by his stoic relentlessness and skill with a lightsaber as he takes a good portion of the pressure off of his troops, an act Vexx personally respects. As a general, he is already confident that, if Francium survives this test, his men will follow him without fear or question.

    “Francium,” he contacts him across the comlink, his communication momentarily broken by a coughing spell that causes fresh blood to ooze from the place where the shrapnel lies embedded in his side. “Our efforts have significantly shifted our objective. Congratulations. Our march to take the citadel begins now. As soon as the map of the positions of the remaining anti-vehicle guns reaches you, I want you to take point. I will follow your lead and cover you. Avoid the guns. There is no need to stir hornets’ nests that can easily be left undisturbed. We have plenty of support awaiting deployment. I trust you to make sound judgment which is why I am turning this over to you.”

    Trust is not something Vexx gives out readily or easily. His is something to be earned and clearly Francium has managed to do something to that end. Truth be told, the Kaleesh general is aware of his own mortality and he knows his condition has been compromised due to his gutsy breach of enemy lines. He needs Francium to take the helm for a time so he can regather his strength and draw on the Force to see this battle through and from what he has seen so far, the young Sith already possesses the strength of heart to boldly lead.

    Tag: @Darth_wanderguard @Quinlan Vos
     
  2. Snokers

    Snokers Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jul 8, 2015
    IC: Darth Anark
    Behind the corvette...



    ~[Second Shadow, we have to get the corvette off of Assault. Stay out of the way of their tractor beams if they deploy and begin to take out their guns. There's eight turbolaser canons.]~

    Anark’s eyes gleamed as an ear to ear grin grew on his face. Her voice sounded so sweet among all the chaos. But of course, chaos was this Sith’s arena, as his chosen name was intended to convey.

    “I’ve got you, Lady Kwea!” The last syllable morphed into an ominous bout of laughter before being silenced abruptly as he concentrated on swinging his TIE around and headed straight for the corvette. He spoke to the remainder of his squadron, “Obliterate the guns! Divide targets between what’s left of you careless girls!

    His buttocks left the seat once more and his hair brushed the top of the cockpit. He shot forth at tremendous speed and hovered for a moment over the first turbolaser he saw. It was in the middle of a rotation to find its target when he blasted it with twin emerald knives, releasing that awesome, unmistakable sound of a TIE fighters cannons. He heard a thousand hands clapping and a peculiar, dreamy assortment of brass instruments erupt inside his head as he watched two members of his squadron zoom past, settling side by side and fire blinding blue protons at the turbolaser adjacent to the one he’d blasted.

    There was a strange rift in the Force, the signature of The Supreme Leader was…

    “NO TIME!” he barked aloud to himself.

    Anark thrusted his starfighter in position above the third of the corvette’s turbolasers. He waited for the target to lock but, in what seemed like a split second, the giant gun rotated away from their assault ship and he was suddenly looking right down its black firing hole through his viewport.

    The Inquisitor’s pupils grew to the size of olives.

    “OH!”


    ----------


    IC: Bo Etraa


    En route to the citadel…



    Bo redirected his Scimtar before Bellorum had even finished her orders to him and had landed back on the planets surface within minutes. He stepped onto the landing ramp and grimaced as it depressurised, shooting irritant bursts of white mist against his golden garb.

    He clipped his comlink to his cuff and met with the two-dozen strong squadron of troops the Empress had assigned to him.

    “That was swift,” he said as he pulled a modified sporting blaster pistol from the holster on his hip, “head for the gate. The siege is underway.” Bo pushed a stray lock of hair away from his eyes and hurried west towards the gate. That drum in the pit of his stomach was beating boldly and steadily. He could feel his brother’s presence beyond the atmosphere. It was the dark presence not just of a Sith, but of a truly volatile human being, up and down, up and down, all over the place, like a rat in a maze where every turn provoked a different emotional state.

    “Sir, the gate is just up ahead,” a rifle wielding officer informed him. He had travelled across the grounds at a half-jog, distracted by Kade’s powerful presence in the Darkness and hadn’t really been in his own body. He switched the safety off on his blaster with a click and focused his mind on the task at hand.

    “I am at the gate, Your Grace,” he said into his wrist as he surveyed the mass of ships descending to the surface, both Imperium and First Order emblems were present. “We’re going to need more numbers down here if we’re to prevent a breach of the citadel’s walls.”

    He instructed his squadron to form a barricade around the front of the gate. One poor soul, a hefty man carrying an electrified baton, was iced with a crimson shot to the head before he even had a chance to play his part against the oncoming troops. Bo watched him fall and land and land with a thud on the concrete. He carried on. “Hold them off for as long as you can!”

    Bo gracefully brought forth the retractable combat staff attached to his back and clicked the mechanism, causing both ends to extend, bringing the weapon to its full seventy two inches. He unclipped his beautiful (but bothersome) cape and let it fall to the ground. Sprinting and leaping onto a short wall on the outside of the great gate, he fired the alternate mode on his sporting pistol, shooting supercharged explosions at the ground in front of clusters of troops marching on the entrance. Armour-clad bodies flew every which way. He leapt down and engaged a trio of enemy combatants, swinging his staff low to catch their ankles and firing three-round-bursts from his hip. In the distance, just over the top of the hill beyond, he caught sight of what looked like the blades of lightsabers spinning at ferocious speed as someone… or something made it’s way towards the citadel.

    The Imperium, he thought. General Vexx

    Bo was slightly taken aback by his own actions – throwing himself right into the fire instead of his usual position behind the scenes of the conflict.

    ----------

    Meanwhile…



    Anark knew one shot from the turbolaser would fry his fighter with the shields down at thirty eight percent.

    He did the only thing he could think of in the time he was given, he shut everything off, there was no time for fiddling around with switches so he done it with the Force. The cockpit went dark. It was an eerie sensation, the silence, the slow, weightless fall of the TIE out of the turbolaser’s immediate range, he felt like a sinking vessel in a vast ocean, floating painfully slow to the bottom. He kicked everything back in manually and the TIE screamed back to life. A tremendous green bolt narrowly missed the tip of his TIE's wing. He raced forward and around catching the turbolaser on it’s side, firing fast and true, it burst into flame. Anark wiped a new sheet of sweat from his brow. His throat had gone dry, but he still managed a crackly chortle.

    Shadow Two took out the rest of the guns with a combination of combined laser fire and torpedoes. The corvette was safe… for now.

    He reported his progress to First Shadow.



     
    Last edited: Jun 27, 2018
  3. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Soliloquy
    Landing on New Moraband, just beyond the Citadel

    Take any moment of time and you will generally find that that peace and having things go your way typically means the bottom is about to fall out. As the shuttle began to suddenly loose altitude and handle like a brick they had to agree they were all having trouble thinking of a time when it had come so quickly on the heels of possible disastrous comment without it being the orchestrated punishment of one who had overheard.

    It was all very disconcerting as the droid bodies Emperor AI informed them that a rapid ships diagnostic showed that the fancy maneuvering after the grazing hit had taxed the crafts repulsorlifts to the point of failing. By the time they got this news they had a mere second before the plummeting brick of a shuttle was going to hit the ground. Bracing in such a situation was futile.

    Still the arcane words and glyphs upon the holocron flared to life at the impending doom and a shimmer, a quiver, and a protective shell of the Force spiralled into existence, emanating from the Holocron out over the body of the Emperor AI assassines body. And the droid body, making its own last moment preparations initiated an emergency eject that caused the cockpit to jettison as the wings were just catching dirt and tearing the craft apart. It was several long moments of being pressed backward into the seat as the cockpit acted as an emergency escape pod with thrusters at max power sending them hurtling forward at ground level until the ground decided to stop them. Or rather that very large tree sticking up out of the swamp decided to be directly in front of their wild careening ride causing a rapid deceleration that saw them popping the canopy as they crashed and they did something they were neither truly designed to do. Fly, without a ship. Through the sky, branches, and eventually crash in a heap in the swamps of this forsaken planet.

    As the protective Force barrier gave out and the body seemed to begin to settle into the mire, they sat up. There were so many snarky comments on all sides being expressed that no one could truly capture all their emotions in that instant. Although the burst of growling static came closest. Especially as they no longer detected the Emperor Insipid, which meant he might not of survived the crash. Sharing that tactical piece of information the droid body stopped looking back from whence they came, and instead looked forward. Where the ruins had been detected.

    The Emperor would return, reform or reborn, but they would need something to show for their lack of success on this 'simple' mission. Something to show, and if any mind even thought for a second that that meant storming the Citadel alone they were silenced with threats of draining their very soul dry to strengthen the rest of them. "Let us see what Thrawn left us. Perhaps it will aid us in our endeavours." it softly muttered as they felt the droid body lengthen into assassin mode and begin rapidly propelling itself forward and away. Deeper into the wilds of the world they would plunder.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
     
  4. Quinlan Vos

    Quinlan Vos Jedi Padawan star 1

    Registered:
    Oct 24, 2017
    IC: Darth Francium
    Imperium Ground Assault

    Francium hadn’t had much time to contemplate wether or not General Vexx and the other general in training were ok before another wave of enemies fell upon him, each suffering the same fate as the last. He had noticed a large spray of blood, however, and was almost certain it was the other trainee, seeing as how well armored Vexx’s body was. Nevertheless, he followed orders and continued to press his men forward into the enemy ranks.

    As static crackled over the comlink, Francium issued a sigh of relief. At least Vexx was alive, and he wouldn’t have to push to the citadel by himself. The orders were brief, and it was clear Vexx was injured due to the amount of coughing coming through. Francium took no time to collect his men and move to the front of the assault, creating the top of the hill finally and taking the peak.

    Francium then gathered the rest of the troops, waiting for the map to come through. As he waited, he noticed a figure in the distance outside the front gate standing atop the wall. Soon after, the figure jumped down and started fighting with the men he had sent ahead. He gathered a dozen of his men who were in the best shape and sent them towards the man, knowing full well if they failed he would have to deal with the nuisance himself. And as much as he knew he needed to waste as little time as possible in moving forward, he relished the thought of it.

    Tags: @Snokers @Kaleesh-Cyborg
     
  5. DarthIshyZ

    DarthIshyZ Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Jan 8, 2005
    IC: Darth Serapis (and the voices in his head)
    Aboard Bellorum's prison ship The Atonement

    Serapis was out. And free. Kronos had said something about needing to get to a shuttle, but without guidance, Serapis, Rude and Nice had slipped away and, obviously, taken a wrong turn somewhere. No one was about, yet these new people he'd met were somewhere around here. Serapis couldn't shake them, even though he couldn't see them. Rude continued to torment him. Nice encouraged him. Somewhere, back there, was Kronos.

    "Where the hell are you? Typical of you to get lost. You just had to go straight to the shuttle."

    "He's on this ship. Just leave him alone, why don't you? He's doing the best he can."

    "Thank you, Nice! I'm on this ship. Obviously it's one of Bellorum's ships. A ship that I have no love for after how I was treated."

    "Oh, what's your grand plan, genius?"

    "I'd like to make it to the shuttle, but if not, I'll just cause some trouble around here. Now shut up!"

    "Well, why don't you shut up, first? I'm not the one who got us lost."

    Serapis looked around for Rude. Still evading him. He hissed at Rude, "Shush! You're going to get us captured and I need to think!" For once Rude listened to him.

    Serapis felt around him for any one else. He'd evaded some Troopers earlier by minimizing his Force presence and hiding in a side passage doorway.

    Now he looked around for some mischief. Most doorways were locked. He did find one door unlocked and found some clothing that somewhat fit him that looked better than prisoner orange. They probably don't have any Ithorian crewmen, though, so best to avoid others.

    He found a terminal and asked for a map. The shuttle bay he had sidestepped was, indeed, nearby. There were a few other places that looked important near there, though. He decided to stop there on the way.

    First, he stopped into what appeared to be another cell block. There was two distracted, official-looking people in there. Fortunately, they were relatively next to one another. As one looked up with a confused look on his face, Serapis let loose with a Force-aided bellow and both of them crumpled to the ground behind their stations. He took off one officer's belt and duty holster. He had to expand the belt a bit, but was able to put it on. He also took what appeared to be the most high-ranking officers rank and code cylinders.

    "Nice job! You've got a weapon!"

    "Stop being such a sycophant. He doesn't even know if it's got a biometric gun lock. They're using those these days."

    Serapis was getting really tired of these two, especially Rude. "Well, Rude, why don't you come out here so I can find out." He found some switches and a big green button that looked important. He pressed those, then left back out the way he'd come.

    The other area that looked important turned out to just be a canteen for the officers and crew, so he avoided that. He continued on to the shuttle bay he'd noted on the map just in time to see Kronos entering a shuttle.

    Tags: @Sinrebirth, @Darth Kronos
     
  6. E. L.Knight

    E. L.Knight Jedi Master star 3

    Registered:
    Dec 4, 2012
    Darth Hades
    The Citadel

    Hades comm crackled to life. "My Lord, the Citadel is in danger of being breached by the Imperials!"

    It was the panicked voice of the Major he had left in control.

    He looked out the transparisteel windows that lined several halls along the tower and could see that the ground forces were indeed being pummeled.

    He commed Captain Finis.

    "Captain Finis. I am coming to assist you with the ground assault."

    Hades turned to the Stormtroopers following him.

    "Go find Kronos, assist him in moving the prisoners. Get it done."

    Hades made his way to the ground level and quickly entered the battlefield.

    Soon he and his Hellions swarmed from the Citadel.

    Hades focused his mind on the assailants who wielded the Force and quickly zeroed in on the Cyborg, Grievance Vexx.

    Hades had seen him fight before and knew a challenge awaited.

    "Grievance Vexx!," Hades shouted, his voice amplified and empowered by the Force.
    TAG: @dARTh kr
     
  7. WookieeRage

    WookieeRage Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Feb 3, 2016
    IC: Darth Ravenous
    Intrepid. Above New Moraband..

    Ravenous moved forward until the Bridge doors closed, keeping a mild hip-aim towards Haretisch. He scanned the room with a slight tilt of his head; Left.. He saw a tasty, visibly shaken tech who dropped her datapad when he smirked. Right... A crew member vomited on his console when the beast's musk entered his nostrils. He would always be an outsider; undesirable. He would however, have a hunger. Ravenous completely ignored the snarky blip Haretisch spat but a pale blue blade caught his eye. After he turned his head forward, his mouth pulled back into a terrifying smile. He fired off the loaded bowcaster round into the wall to his left. Crew members dove for cover as the explosion impacted behind them. Ravenous then pulled his red saber from his hip and sliced the weapon in half. He would not have his weapon turned on him again. The Beast settled into a Djem So stance and addressed the Imperator with sloppy, drool covered jowls.

    "Darth Haretisch... I've been.. craving to see you again."

    He dug into the force and sprinted with vigor to close the distance. He jumped into the air slightly and with one hand, thrust his saber point toward Haretisch, aimed to pierce his chest.

    Tag: @Darth_wanderguard
     
    Last edited: Jun 28, 2018
  8. WookieeRage

    WookieeRage Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Feb 3, 2016
    IC: Astra
    Luxury Elite Hangar, Junk Heap Ship..

    Astra continued up the ramp and a musty smell filled her nose. She coughed twice and stopped the ascension into the vessel as she dropped her bag onto the ramp. She wanted to turn around and blurt an expletive at the filthy deck hand. She decided to turn back instead and picked her weapon bag up once again with a swipe of the back her hand to her nose. She entered to see the insanely more terrible interior. A spring poked her finger as she felt the vintage material covering the seat. She understood the ship was a throw away but this was almost insulting for one with as much money and resources as the Empress. The deck hand poked his dirty little head in the door again, addressing Astra directly and telling her to keep her hands off his tech. She didn't even speak but her brows furrowed. She aimed her hand out and made a gun gesture towards him. She winked as she pretended to pull the trigger. The little man ran off. She dropped her gun bag onto the floor and looked for a place to sit.

    Tag: @Lady Belligerent @QueenSabe7 @SkywalkerShine
     
  9. Nehru_Amidala

    Nehru_Amidala Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Oct 3, 2016
    IC: Darth Hekate, The Arae, Nirauan
    Tag: @Darth_wanderguard , @Lady Belligerent



    All roads lead to the laboratory, Hekate thought to herself. Although the ship itself was large, Hekate had gone on virtual tours of such ships before when she was still a primary school student. Such group outings were part of a traditional second-grade curriculum. However, all the doors were the same and she was excited about getting there she at one point got completely lost, and was forced to turn around as ask for directions.

    When she finally found the door, it whooshed open. Entering the reception area, there was a note taped to the appointment desk for her from Dr. Jepsun. It read as follows:

    “Anya, I am doing research and will be back in two hours. Change the linens on the gurneys in rooms 1-7. Then wash and sterilize the equipment in the sink.

    Thanks - Dr. Jepsun”


    It sounded easy enough, although rather tedious in her opinion. However, she had to start somewhere and right now she could help by getting started on her assigned tasks. There were quite a few gurneys in each of the rooms, and with all the fighting going on, it took nearly an hour to properly change the linens with hospital corners and then there was the task of sterilizing the equipment in the sink. Everything was covered in blood and mold.

    Hekate decided to take samples of the dried blood and mold for her own further use, so she carefully scraped of samples she felt she could use further down the road. Afterwards, she cleaned and sterilized everything so it would be ready when the Doctor returned.
     
  10. Darth Cocytus

    Darth Cocytus Jedi Knight star 3

    Registered:
    May 8, 2016
    Darth Cocytus - The Assault

    Darth Cocytus’s eyes glared as Insipid snapped back at him. So the Supreme Leader Insipid wanted him to fake his death to work outside the First Order? Something was still fishy about this and he had to make preparations in case of treachery. Nonetheless, the kaminoan decided not to argue anymore. “Very well, Master.” said Cocytus in his icy cold voice, “It shall be done and will survive.”

    Cocytus looked up the ceiling above him before looking back at Saadi. He stared at the changeling with his candle-like eyes. There was something wrong with the changeling and Cocytus was tempted to probe his mind. “The Supreme Leader has given me a special task to perform on my own." He whispered softly, “I will do what I must as ordered.”

    TAG: @Sinrebirth and @Dagobahsystem



    Sent from my SM-J327V using Tapatalk
     
  11. SkywalkerShine

    SkywalkerShine Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Aug 16, 2007
    IC: Alana Geyser
    Luxury Elite Hangar, Junk Heap Ship

    After walking up the ramp of the broken-down-lookin' ship, Alana began to observe the interior. She winkled up her nose and covered it, almost gagging. The smell reminded her of the sewage manholes from the Coruscant lower levels. But this? Oh boy... This was worse!

    "Son of a murglak! Who in their right mind would even fly this thing?!" Alana blurted out. Sighing in frustration, the female thief stood inside the ship with Astra and Leda, wincing her eyes and coughing quietly. In her mind, all she wanted was to escape from these people and this horrible ship! If only Twen were here. He'd know what to do. But this was what she was trained for. If a person was facing a problem, there was always a solution. Alana would have to cook up an idea to find another ship and escape. Even if it meant risking her own life.

    All of a sudden, the rough and smelly old dock master stuck his head in the door and started babbling at them. Something about getting the ship moving and not touching the tech again. The latter was mostly aimed at Astra, who made a gun gesture with her hand and pulled the 'trigger' at the man. This made the guy run off and the other young woman dropped her bag without a care. Of all the people she met, Astra seemed like the type of woman who didn't deal with no nonsense. This made Alana grin.

    "Now that's what I call 'Running with bricks in your pants' ." The young woman knew it was dangerous to be acquainted with the Sith. But in 'Twen's Book of Survival', you had to look confident and hide your actual fear.

    TAG:
    @Lady Belligerent @QueenSabe7 @WookieeRage
     
    Last edited: Jun 28, 2018
  12. Darth Kronos

    Darth Kronos Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Jan 2, 2016
    IC: Darth Kronos

    Darth Kronos was met with a shocking discovery once he made it to the Atonement shuttle. Serapis, who Kronos had let travel on his own, was no where to be found. He had checked inside the shuttle, ignoring any comments made by the pilots, but it yielded no results.

    Kronos had become far too easily distracted as of late. His senses were no longer as refined as they once were. It was harder to concentrate. In his mental musings of his current predicament with Esme, he completely forgot to properly escort Serapis and Draconis, and now, as a result, Serapis was gone.

    Bellorum's voice screeched over his comlink as she demanded an update on Serapis and Draconis's location, and Kronos sighed in frustration. So many people were pestering him. It was deeply aggravating.

    Kronos chose not to respond to her inquiry. Best to report good news in her time of anger.

    He had some chasing to do.

    Desperately trying to concentrate, he reached into the Force to locate Serapis and Draconis. For Serapis, he sensed a powerful figure within the Force accompanied by two other beings; aggression and condescension were apparent in one, supportiveness and kindness in the other. And were they... approaching him?

    Draconis's location was an enigma. He felt a powerful surge within the Force, but he couldn't pinpoint an exact location.

    Soldiers arrived.

    He would direct half of them to accompany him in a search for Draconis, while the other half would remain there to wait for Serapis's arrival.

    If only he could be in two places at once.

    TAG: @Lady Belligerent @DarthIshyZ @dragonsith13 (@E. L.Knight)

    -----

    IC: Mallace

    Chaos surrounded them. While Saadi manned the pilot's seat and desperately tried to avoid incoming blaster fire, and she absently noticed an aura of doubt hanging over Coctytus as he did... virtually nothing, Mallace fired at all incoming ships. But there were too many of them. Despite her efforts, they were still being pummeled by blaster fire. Furthermore, Saadi also seemed distracted, and Mallace was hoping to keep her mind from delving into those dark thoughts.

    A bigger threat then emerged. A massive corvette shuttle - she did not know the exact name - made its way into the battle and focused its cannons on the Shadow squadrons. Nearby prison cruisers fired upon the Assault shuttle, and Mallace could not find a proper place to aim in the chaotic mess of blaster fire flashing in her eyes.

    First Shadow's voice, Kwea, sounded on the built-in comlink. A promise of aid. And thank the maker for that.

    She felt the shuttle suddenly jolt and looked to the cockpit to see Saadi jerking the controls to maneuver his way out of the mass amounts of blaster fire. Buying time was essential, she knew. Remaining in their previous predicament would have certainly resulted in instant death.

    Mallace received a better angle for firing, and she thankfully had a clearer shot. The distance between them and the prison cruisers was just large enough to clear her vision of the constant flashing light from the blaster bolts.

    She began to fire upon two targets: the prison cruisers and the corvette's viewport that Kwea was aiming at. She switched back and forth between them.

    She thought it would save time that way.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth @Halle Dray @Dagobahsystem @Darth Cocytus (@Snokers)
     
  13. QueenSabe7

    QueenSabe7 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 23, 2001
    IC: Leda
    The Luxury Elite

    Leda stood before their designated vessel, hands upon her hips and a look of disgust upon her face.

    “What a fragging piece of junk,” she scoffed to no one in particular. It appeared the Empress hadn’t been joking about the state of the ship they would be using, apparently not wanting to sacrifice anything even slightly decent to the lands they were about to head off to. That’s reassuring, she mused, having the urge to turn to her pair of…. companions at her back. However, she knew conversing with either of them directly would only work at her nerves. She was point here so she needed to remain composed, though she doubted a non-Sith and a drug addict would value her leadership or would try to learn from her experience.

    Their loss, she thought wryly, moving to scale the open ramp that by the looks of it would crumble beneath her feet.

    “You da crew takin’ that beauty?” an uneven, slurred voice spoke at her side just has she was unceremoniously prodded in the ribs. Whirling around to sock whoever dared touch her without permission, she came face to face with an old, unremarkable male that appeared to be trying to flirt with her? Men never gave up, idiotic creatures.

    Once he was done and moved along, she didn’t bother to look back at either Astra or Alana, boarding the ship – if you could still call it that - and heading straight towards the cockpit. On her way, she heard the new girl exclaim her shock at their surroundings in her own… unique way.

    "Son of a murglak! Who in their right mind would even fly this thing?!"

    “ME,” Leda shouted back at her, removing her sword from her back and taking a seat at the controls. Beginning to initiate preflight sequences, various unnatural noises and creaks sounded throughout the ship as the engines roared to life. Several alarms blared and one panel to her right popped open to reveal an array of wiring.

    “Or perhaps we will all die in a violent, fiery explosion before we are even in flight,” the blonde mumbled, resealing the panel and silencing most of the alarms she could. Almost anticipating such an event, she held her breath as the decrepit machine lifted uneasily from the hangar floor, barely daring to allow herself hope they would survive even as she forced the craft into hyperspace.

    If they made it to their destination and the planet was as inhospitable as Bellorum said, she would welcome the sight of it being destroyed once and for all…. once she was safely off board, of course.

    TAGS: @SkywalkerShine @WookieeRage @Lady Belligerent
     
  14. dragonsith13

    dragonsith13 Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Apr 3, 2005


    T’Tkura
    Star Destroyer Resurgent ~ Prison cell

    "I am sorry..."
    T'Tkura spoke the words as if addressing someone, yet no one was present. Apologizing in a tired and raspy tone.

    The large water valve above him had been turned off minutes earlier, after he had been barraged with water for what seemed like an eternity. His fur was still soaked, and the cold cell afforded no insulation only amplifying the affect. The food in front of him was neither appealing or wanted. Even given the long time without such. Still his captors persisted in putting it in front of his face. Naked and shivering T’Tkura’s head was lowered as he shook from the extreme cold, his gaze barely catching the Sith hound at the other side of the cell in his vision. The hound’s howls and calls echoed throughout the prison block and with each wail coursing living energy flowed the overall feeling traveling down his spine with each reverberation from the hound.

    There is no emotion, there is peace.
    There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
    There is no passion, there is serenity.
    There is no chaos, there is harmony.
    There is no death, there is the Force.

    What was right? What was wrong? The words of the code had played out in his head countless times over the months here. What made sense anymore…

    There was no pain anymore, his body was numb to it. Six months of endless torture, a time period in which it was impossible to tell how anyone would react and respond to what had transpired. This on top of the endless maze in which they had been pushed and prodded through. He saw the face of Jole, mangled in the swamps of the planet below. The fear in Radian’s eyes. The anger in Draco’s heart. And more and more all the while this place, this existence while still being foreign wore at him. No matter what he did now, he could see them as in addition to such he carried with him the cries and faces of those in the past from a place and time that seemed so long ago. It had all creeped in slowly. Had the teachings failed him? His Master? Had he himself failed the order? Whatever the case might have been, he saw them constantly. Every waking moment. There was no relief.

    Had it come to this? The relentless pursuit of his soul by the Sith Emperor. In a place where the Sith permeated all galactic events. There was no sign of a Jedi Order. He had held out hope, even after the prison ship, the swamps of Zakuul, the parade of them on the Luxury Elite, and the escape of the Sith Destroyer. That they would get the opportunity to begin anew. The chance to offer a light in this great darkness. But such had never come. Their party had fracture even beyond what he had thought could have been. Part of him wished Draco had finished it on the transport or that when the shuttle had exploded it had taken him with it. The slow tears that he fought back, were no longer held in.

    How he wished he had never had gotten to this place, to this point...

    Anything to prevent how he felt now.

    Anything to prevent what he saw before him.

    As T’Tkura stared down into a pool of water left from the hours of water torture, he saw his face reflecting back in the faint light cast into the cell. Reciting it one last time…

    There is no emotion, there is peace.
    There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
    There is no passion, there is serenity.
    There is no chaos, there is harmony.
    There is no death, there is the Force.

    The howls of the hound subsided, though the numbness in his body did not subside. The numbness in his thoughts did not subside.

    The numbness to the code… did not subside.

    “Forgive me…”

    @Sinrebirth
     
    Last edited: Jun 29, 2018
  15. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist star 7 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    The following is a combo with the wonderful QueenSabe7

    IC: Aryan Graul and Darth Syren

    Aboard the Arae, over Nirauan

    After Haretisch had abruptly ended the transmission to oversee the battle that was commencing several light years away, Aryan retreated from the bridge, leaving Captain Rolsaw behind to carry out his task alone. And good riddance. The man was exasperating; he did not have time to stand around and listen to his incoherent nonsense, not when he had a diplomatic mission to prepare for. Everything hung in the balance when it came to persuading the small but influential world of Nirauan to join their cause. This could make or break the Imperium; he had to maintain focus.

    And yet, for someone who was about to embark on such a critical mission, his movements were sluggish, almost as if he was trying to stall for time. And perhaps he was. There was something else he had to take care of before he went down to the surface…someone to say goodbye to before they went their separate ways to perform their duties to the Imperium. No matter how many times they’ve done this as part of their regular routine, it never got any easier.

    As he passed the left-facing crew pit, Aryan angled his head to the side and allowed his gaze to rest briefly on the red-headed assassin standing alone near the viewport across the wide berth. Even at this distance, Syren looked stunning against the ethereal backdrop of the planet spinning slowly below them, and he had to struggle to suppress the smile that was threatening to crack his hardened countenance. That simply couldn’t happen. He understood how important it was to keep up appearances, especially in front of the crew, but he still hoped that he got his point across – he wanted to see her.

    Without another word, he turned away and left the bridge, walking briskly until he reached the sanctuary of his private quarters.

    Syren could sense his intentions before she turned her head to glance at Aryan’s face, their eyes briefly meeting before he took his leave of the bridge.

    She waited a few moments, doing the familiar song and dance of appearing thoroughly disinterested in her surroundings, bored even. Which, if she was being honest, she truly was most times. Political banter and wartime negotiations weren’t thrilling to someone like her and she was beginning to feel restless, her darkest desires not having been fulfilled in far too long.

    Realizing her fists were clenched tight at her sides, Syren shook herself and spun on her heels, following Aryan at a safe distance to where she knew he would be headed.

    After being certain no being was watching, she entered the personal space and swiftly took the few strides that separated them once the doors were secured behind her. She grabbed the front of his robes as she reached him and pulled him close, pressing her lips against his. Though she wouldn’t openly admit it to him, there was something deep inside her that twisted uncomfortably whenever they were made to go their separate ways.

    Closing his eyes, Aryan leaned forward to return her embrace with vigor, gently reaching up to cup her face in his hands as he relished the touch of her skin against his. He had sought focus to strengthen his resolve for the upcoming negotiations, but this was all the focus he needed. He did not want this to end, but he knew it was inevitable. Again, he had to remind himself that he had his responsibilities...and she had hers.

    After what felt like an eternity, he finally pulled away and stared intently into her gray eyes, breathless. “Better watch yourself,” he said in a playful tone, his voice husky, “I only wanted to wish you luck, but if you keep this up, I might not be able to resist.” A sensual smirk pulled up one corner of his mouth as he canted his head toward the bed. “You’ll make me late, and you know how much that aggravates Ruusel...always keeping me on a strict schedule.”

    While made in jest, the mention of his chief of staff and closest advisor brought a sobering weight to the conversation – it was a grim reminder of what they were about to face. With a sigh, Aryan allowed his hands to drop down to her shoulders as his expression turned serious once more. “Anyway, I take it you’ll be staying in-system this time?”

    He knew she couldn’t divulge too many details about her assignments, but it didn’t hurt to try...if only to have some peace of mind.

    Her hands resting on his hips, Syren returned his amused expression for a moment, biting her lower lip and giving his waist a squeeze. “You never can resist,” she whispered, staring up into green-grey eyes she knew so well. However, she had also gotten to better understand Aryan’s all-business side, and so when he made mention of his duties, she knew he wouldn’t be able to continue anything along the lines she had in mind. Not now, anyways.

    The assassin stepped back then to compose herself, turning and heading for the sizeable closet the quarters provided. “I am,” she responded vaguely to his query, beginning to remove several items from drawers and toss them upon the nearby bed. Though these were technically the private chambers of the Prime Minister, she was here enough that most of her personal items remained within these walls.

    “I’ll be… nearby,” she continued, mulling over how much of her orders to reveal. In truth, she hadn’t been given much to keep secret, but what had she ever kept from Aryan - that he had specifically asked about? And what was the need in this instance?

    With that, she paused and returned her eyes to his. Someone has to make sure you don’t get yourself killed.” Syren’s tone was light, playful even, but she knew he would notice the seriousness underneath it all.

    Still standing near the door, Aryan inclined his chin and studied her carefully when she mentioned the nature of her assignment, his eyes narrowing with a hint of concern. He could hear the levity in her voice, but there was an underlying threat that set him on edge. Was there something he had missed? Intelligence reports or some other tip that had pointed to a possible assassination attempt? Why else would she say such a thing?

    And why else would she need to stay undercover?

    As a prominent politician, Aryan had always recognized the potential danger that loomed in the sidelines every time he went out to attend a public function or media event. It followed him around like a shadow, but he had never truly believed that it could ever become a reality. Even now, he brushed it off and tried to make light of the situation. He didn’t want to sour the mood by reading too much into her words.

    “I have an entire security detail to keep me safe,” he reminded her with a wave of his hand. “That’s their only job. I’ll be fine.” Despite the smile that spread over his features to provide reassurance, there was something about his tone that suggested that he was trying to convince himself of that fact. The remnants of the Sith Order were still out there, after all.

    With a sigh, he moved forward to meet her halfway in her circuitous route from the closet to the bed. He reached down and idly placed his hands on top of hers, preventing her from placing the item she was carrying beside the others on the bed. “What about you?” he said with a raised brow. “Who’s going to watch your back through all of this, huh?”

    He paused for a moment to meet her gaze, then shook his head lightly with a scoff. “And don’t tell me the Force...I know all about that, remember? That didn’t stop us from getting ambushed on the Luxury Elite.”

    “I can take care of myself,” Syren responded immediately, an answer so natural that she didn’t need to hesitate. She was confident in her abilities and found herself mildly confused that Aryan would seemingly not have that same faith. She knew it came from another place though, a place of emotional attachment and not his more rational, political side.

    Still, his hands placed over hers, the look in his eyes when he spoke, it was yet another reminder of just how deeply vulnerable she was to him. It made her weak, but it also made her feel more alive than she had felt in more years than she could count.

    Dropping the garments she had within her grasp, Syren once more reached up and wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him close. “Come now, Prime Minister. You never really knew the Force, did you? Not like I do. It protects me, but more so, I protect myself.”

    A pause as she swallowed, an odd lump forming in her throat when she thought of the quickly approaching moment that he would leave her side. I protect you…”

    Aryan exhaled softly, seeming to melt under her touch; his shoulders rolled back and he looked at her with that perpetual smirk, his eyes shining mischievously. “Guilty as charged,” he uttered quietly in response to her accusation about the Force. He might have gotten lucky with a few cheap tricks, but that was the extent of his knowledge. It had felt wrong to him...unnatural.

    He appeared to shrink back at that thought, a brief shadow passing over his features, but thankfully Syren got things back on track...at least, as much as she could under the circumstances.

    Pressing his lips together firmly, Aryan felt his chest clench at her declaration – they were three simple words, but they had been filled with such humility and conviction. As he glanced down into her face, he could see that same sincerity reflecting in her gray eyes, and he issued a helpless sigh. In that moment, he knew she was right – he couldn’t resist.

    Resting his hands near her hips, Aryan leaned down and kissed her with real fervor, the rest of the galaxy seeming to fade away so that it felt small and inconsequential compared to the passionate energy that passed between them in that moment. His hands tightened around her waist and he began to gently lead her back to the bed.

    Before laying her down against the spread, he whispered into her ear, “I’ve been thinking...to hell with schedules. I’m the Prime Minister – they’re supposed to wait for me. I figure I can afford to be a little late…”

    He silenced any response with another kiss and whisked Syren away one final time before they went their separate ways.

    TAG: @QueenSabe7 ; @Darth_wanderguard
     
  16. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Immortal Mod-King of the EUC, RPF and SWC star 8 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    GM 1 is 3

    IC: Darth Insipid

    Grounded

    With swiftness, Insipid made his way through the rooms and corridors. Within moments, he was at the opposite side of the Citadel, and his lightsaber was to hand - not his grandmothers one, no. That had been taken, along with his personal Holocron.

    By Hades.

    Insipid appeared at the other flank, the one at opposite side, presently manned by the gunners and a variety of shocktroopers. An aura of dumbfounded shock was among them - Insipid drew the Force close to obscure his features and saw why; Hades was changing a trooper horde... alone. Had he gone mad? Insipid’s mind touched forward, had a sense of two or three Sith. One was probably Vexx, the self styled successor to General Grievous.

    Insipid had not met him; but he was about to now. He found him with the Force, the commanding influence, the authority, and sent a wave of amusement that way. Hades would wait. He was incidental now. He had not given any thought to a rematch... but he would get around to revenge.

    Business first.

    Insipid opened his comlink, and keyed for Anark. ‘Get ready.’ Then he shut the line before it was traced.

    Pushing outwards with the Force, trying to decipher the watchful ones from the active ones - the troops as opposed to the gunners - he shouted out his word, pouring his order into the Force.

    ‘Charge!’

    Most of the troops were hanging on a knife edge; poised to attack. It didn’t take much to push them over, and the Sith were not exactly well known among any of the factions fighting for them.

    A red saber. A black cloak. An order.

    Fear did the rest.

    Suddenly Insipid was leading a throng of multicoloured Mandalorians, golden armoured Sun Guards, white battle garbed Echani, and a motley array of aliens in mercenary gear. He didn’t care it abandoning cover was suicidal; he didn’t care about the guns now being mostly unable to fire into battle for fear of hitting their own men; he was not concerned for the commanders who held back and were unsure of what to do.

    The advance was not supposed to succeed. It was merely designed to give a way forward for Insipid to get to Vexx. To kill him. It was merely useful that Hades was in the middle of a crossfire. Insipid dove ahead, choosing another flank to Hades, touching the Force to his feet and alighting above the battle, defecting shots as he went, intending to come down behind the immediate frontline and looking for a Sith to kill.

    As he flew, his mind could not help itself. An exertion in the Force muted Hades’ voice, and another tugged at the man’s feet, intending to drop him into a face-plant. Which was probably for the best, as his Hellions were caught in a crossfire and, thus, dying.

    Insipid lost sight of Hades as he landed and he negligently flung back a hand. Lightning burst into the rear of the frontline, mainly killing Haretisch’s soldiers on that flank, and so Insipid drew attention to himself. A Sith would need to come to plug the hole or Bellorum would advance and encircle.

    Insipid grinned as he cut down a stray trooper. Another rushed him with full riot gear, and Insipid snapped his neck with a twist of his free hand. The first soldiers blaster leapt into the air and slammed into the face of the next, and Insipid ran him through, before pushing the screaming body into the following foe. The troopers were too scattered; they were not going to be able to do much but die without coordination.


    Space battle, including a lot less space to move in

    Say what you will for Kwea and Anark, but they made a brilliant team. In very short order, and with Saadi and Mallace and Cocytus expertly manoeuvring their Assault shuttle, First and Second Shadow forced the corvette to quit the field with all of its guns smoking, one of which had lost track of Anark only for him to blow it up when he seemingly, impossibly, returned from the dead!

    A brilliant turnaround.

    But the moment the corvette moved out, five squadrons of TIE Interceptors filled the gap, flying Imperium colours to seize the spot between the cruiser and the Citadel. The smaller capital ships of Twilight Sun suddenly had a target rich environment and opened fire, half a dozen gunships - if that’s what you can call freighters with guns strapped to them - filling the void.

    First Shadow was caught at the upper edge of the cloud of fire, while Second Shadow was at the lower edge - and so whilst Second had taken more casualties already, by the end of the first fireball they both had two wing-mates left, but were entirely separated. Kwea was being pushed up towards the Star Destroyers, one which had been mauled, but it was still an exposed position - if she was unnoticed, it’d be fine, perhaps even an opportunity, but otherwise she was in danger.

    Anark would have difficulty heading back up through the crossfire, as much as Kwea back down. Four Interceptors emerged from the crossfire of corvettes, rapidly drawing a bead on Anark and his two survivors. A freighter-come-gunship shifted up to trap the Imperium fighters in the combat zone, angling to make sure Kwea could not dive down.

    Hespar would have literally until the disarmed corvette moved back to make it to the Citadel tower and Ike before the window closed entirely. Assuming she was still alive in the tumult.

    Assault, however, had already cleared several of the prison cruiser Atonements guns, and so they had an easy landing; of course the entire attack had been rather clearly telegraphed due to the battle, but the fact remained that the prison cruiser was the only one with the Mandalorian iron cells which could hold Sith.

    Especially a Sith of the calibre of Darth Draconis, former Grand Vizier to Darth Vassago, a legend on his own right, and thankfully absent from this time. Were Vassago to reappear, it would draw loyalties across the Empire - the Old Guard, pitted against the New. Before their arrival in this time it would have been a larger issue, but here, he would simply have his finesse and skills - sufficient to be a danger to any Sith beneath the former Triumvirate.

    In the hangar they were confronted by a set-piece - but the prisoners had yet to arrive. A space was evident for their shuttle. Four squads of four soldiers - two Mandalorian, one Hellion commandos, and one Mecrosa, the latter ready with their own variant of lightsabers - the light-foil. No heavy weapons were apparent, for anything of that could damage the hangar and vent them into space.

    But the three Sith would have their work cut out for them in securing the hangar... and then holding it long enough to capture Draconis and Serapis from someone as powerful as Kronos. They had to move fast, for Bellorum would undoubtedly not tarry long.

    —-
    Swamps of Discovery

    An infiltration droid within the Swamps of Zakuul, now New Moraband, would be a curious enough sight as it was. But the Temple rising from the depths was all the more curious.

    Snake like-vines attended the designs of the stone pillars, a rare art form that Soliloquy’s pilfered data would identify as known as ophidian grotesques - associated with devastated or formerly devastated world’s such as Shatuun or Caulus Tertius, and indeed Imperial records had identified such structures in the very depths of Coruscant. Had Soliloquy access to the history of the 44 ABY Apocalypse, he’d know that Kesh and Reo also included such architecture, and had he access to more of the more secretive records of Vitiate’s era, such things were apparent in the Dark Temple of Kaas and the tombs on Nathema.

    As had Abeloth’s planet.

    Of course, Soliloquy had much of this.

    The Emperor AI paused, collating data. ‘This is an impossibility. Such sites are thirty millennia old... but Zakuul has been reduced to primitivism before.’

    The Temple yawed open, the doors askance. Puerile liquid oozed from the cracks; moss lined much of the stone. The structure was positively ancient. Had Insipid found it... he might have expressed swear words at its beauty. But to sensors? It was inscrutable beyond the outside. A block, active after millennia? Impossible.

    But there was much impossible about the Old Ones.

    ‘I know little of this world...’ the AI spoke through Soliloquy’s vocabulator. ‘What do you suppose awaits us?’


    Orbital battle

    The battle modulated. While a massive amount of attention was on the prison cruiser, there were Star Destroyers in play, and orbital weapons attached to the Citadel. The prototype Resurgent closed with the Imperium flagship, weapons unable to fully open fire for fear of destroying both. Sloane grimaced, studying the battle net from out-system.

    Then another report. The flight coordinator had been suborned to allow someone to land. That’ll be the Trap, Sloane thought with disgust. Insipid has kept a prisoner, T’tkura, aboard, as bait. Pointless, really, as he’d also kept the information quiet. The prisoner was presently kept apart, though his Hound has been tortured and their ‘Force bond’ exploited for all it was worth, apparently. In-fact, Sloane had been ordered to schedule a treatment of shock therapy to the Hound now; four troops were present to open the cell and administer the same.

    As it was, someone had fallen for the entire ploy, and the Sentinels - advanced droids imprinted with an AI modelled after Palpatine - had been posted to all key parts of the Resurgent to uncover a ploy. As such, an uninvited guest was immediately caught.

    The main hangar had been prepared and promptly sealed; the bulkhead doors to the hangar enclosed, and all entrances sealed. Sloane spoke up to the ship idling in the hangar. ‘This is Grand Admiral Sloane of the First Order, answering only to Supreme Leader Snoke. Identify your purpose here immediately.’

    She’d simply blow the hangar out of the ship. It was completely detachable, by design, and enclosed, so it would merely self destruct. End of problem. Darth Insipid in his guise of Snoke was not to be trifled with.

    Brut Cratazas would learn his lesson.

    Or die.

    Insipid did not need any one.

    Lesson number one.


    Nowhere

    Hunter’ froze. He hadn’t expected an occupant when the Fools Bargain picked up the pod. B3 seemed of consider, inclining his head as he likely scanned the man. Handling his blaster, but not yet pointing it, Hunter spoke slowly.

    Rumour had it that the casino ship was caught up in something very hot. Rich tycoons had been saved by Twilight Sun, the newest version of Black Sun, and so Hunter could have a rich guy willing to pay for his safety, or a hostage. May as well play it cool.

    ‘Who goes there? I am a salvage expert. Here is B3, my co-pilot and medical droid.’ Hunger indicated he latter. ‘Do you need medical assistance?’

    B3 looked to Hunter and back again. ‘You do appear somewhat emaciated, sir.’

    TAG: @Snokers (two for Anark), @Halle Dray, @corinthia (last tag), @Darth Kronos, @Dagobahsystem, @Darth Cocytus, @E. L.Knight (direct interference), @Quinlan Vos (peripherally), @Kaleesh-Cyborg, @dragonsith13 (nudge),
    @Mitth-Fisto, @KamNale (wait for tags, in the future), @ConservativeJedi321





    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
     
  17. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    GM UPDATE 2 OF 3

    IC: Darth HaretischThe Intrepid

    “Darth Haretisch... I’ve been... craving to see you again.”

    A lightsaber clattered to the ground as the Imperator’s final sparring partner collapsed, to join three others rolling about the floor in agony. Darth Haretisch stood with a wooden sword in hand, and sighed in disappointment amidst the quiet wails and sobs.

    “Again,” he ordered flatly, nudging at one with the end of his weapon.

    His training regimen had always been aggressive, even in his Jedi days, but this was bordering on insanity. Since the Luxury Elite, the Night Herald come Lord Imperator had approached his training with an obsessive focus.

    He had expended too much energy and taken too much of a beating against Insipid to adequately face Darth Ravenous. Even with Hel to hand he simply hadn’t been a match for the Sithspawn. It was his rigid dedication to style, namely his own reckless variant of the Ataru form, he reasoned, which had nearly been his undoing. The fight had taken too long. His defense was porous. His speed and aggression and ability to take punishment had for too long been a bandaid for what was now in his own mind a fighting approach which was aesthetically pleasing but inefficient and impractical.

    He had since sought to throw off the constraints of form - to more intuitively use the foundational elements which had been internalized through decades of study. Most importantly, to take the shortest path to victory.

    His four sparring partners each shakily found their feet, covered in welts and bruises and black eyes and bloodied noses, reactivated the lightsabers they had been given, and attacked all at once.


    The sentiment was shared.

    The Imperator adjusted his posture and slipped the attack, just barely enough to avoid impalement, but allowing the thrust to scorch his armor just so. He retaliated, but not with his lightsaber. That would be far too quick. Instead he slipped beneath his mammoth opponent’s defenses and drove a force-assisted boot deep into the Sithspawn’s knee, hearing and feeling it give way with a wet pop. Pivoting, he swung and severed the opposite leg with a deft swipe of his lightsaber, and watched Darth Ravenous fall like a Wroshyr tree.

    TAG: @WookieeRage

    ~

    The force would seem to darken around the Citadel with Insipid’s arrival. He was likely as outwardly monstrous now as he was on the inside, maybe for the first time ever. A sunken face near to the point of being skeletal, locked into half of a permanent grimace, and a jagged indentation running up the length of his forehead. And now, fighting beside the Twilight Sun forces which were defending the gate. Bo Etraa and Darth Hades had joined the fray as well.

    It was all a confusing mess.

    Still, line after line of Stormtroopers separated General Vexx, who had stayed smartly behind, from Bo, Hades, and Insipid - though the latter was cutting through the ranks like butter in an attempt to get to the general and swiftly decapitate the assault. That mission, however, was about to get far more difficult.

    No less than a dozen AT-STs had just arrived at the general’s back, and as they opened fire on the rear of the forces breaking the siege, the defenders would be forced forward and away from the gate, into the meat grinder of a hail of blasterfire from the horde of Stormtroopers before them. It was a pincer move of sorts, and Bellorum’s forces would begin to suffer heavy casualties. As Insipid was already advancing like a madman, it would be Bo and Hades who would feel most of the wrath of the maneuver.

    Bo in particular would be pushed into close quarters with Darth Francium himself.

    From behind, over the heads of the AT-STs a single stray artillery shell would soar, bright in the dim sky, and slam into the front wall of the Citadel. It reduced a portion of it to rubble and would send one large chunk of stone screaming into the mouth of a passing Darth Kronos, who if he reached up to survey the wound would find a sizable portion of his lower jaw missing. A jagged deformation of broken bones and gushing blood and broken teeth had taken its place, though Kronos would find himself still able to speak well enough to be understood, with some effort.

    Moments later, General Vexx’s comm crackled to life.

    General, we’ve opened a hole in the near wall on the west side of the gate. Resistance at the left flank is manageable. Orders?

    This was it. The opportunity to pour into the citadel complex itself, to flank those defending the gate and gain an upper hand. There was a risk, however. Pushing forces forward along the left flank to breach the hole would leave the line more weak at the right, and Vexx himself at risk of seeing the enemy forces push through to his own location.

    TAG: @Quinlan Vos, @Snokers, @E. L.Knight, @Darth Kronos, @Kaleesh-Cyborg

    ~

    “Landing in less than one minute, Prime Minister.”

    A single Imperial shuttle was descending toward the largest spaceport on Nirauan - one situated dead center in the capital city. It was midday on the jungle world, and temperatures were soaring. Even in the dense cityscape carved out of the lush rainforest surrounding it, the heat was sticky and oppressive.

    “Well we’re arriving a bit later than intended, but it doesn’t seem to have thinned the crowd any,” Ruusel piped up. Judging from the mob scene he had spotted through the viewport before the shuttle turned its nose up to land, it was going to be a task just getting to the hotel. “Just stay behind security, let them muscle a path and we’ll just follow. There are going to be a lot of questions. And the Nirauan media holds a grudge so you’ll have to spit some quick answers in passing, can’t just ignore them all. Just don’t say anything they can misuse.”

    This wasn’t Ruusel’s first trip around the block, that would be clear to all - there was a reason he had become Aryan’s closest advisor over the previous six months. He was perfect in that role; a smart, stoic, plain faced man with the knowledge of a supercomputer, wisdom of a hermit, and charisma of a plasteel trash bin.

    When the ship landed, and the prime minister and his retinue stepped off of the ramp, Aryan Graul would find himself prodded forward by his chief of staff, squeezed against the backs of his security detail, and microphones shoved in his face from either side.

    TAG: @HanSolo29

    ~

    Back on board the Arae, Syren’s comm would chime with a prerecorded voice message - one from Darth Haretisch.

    Lady Syren. It is unfortunate that I was unable, up until now, to provide a briefing with regard to a particular aspect of your mission on Nirauan. In order to maintain the proper secrecy on multiple fronts however, this was unavoidable. All the existing details remain the same, save one - Hel will accompany you to the surface to assist in your objectives. You have my word that she will prove an asset, not a liability. If you are listening to this message at the time of its arrival, know that Hel will receive a message of her own with similar orders and, if she heeds them, will come to you in your quarters. She has not been briefed on your mission. I leave that to you.

    Simultaneously, as promised, Hel’s comm would chime with a voice message of her own.

    Go to Darth Syren. Room 216, C level. Assist her in her assignment and learn from her. Tell no one, including the doctor, where you are going. This is non-negotiable. Do not compromise her with your misbehavior, either in her mission or my good graces.

    TAG: @Lady Belligerent, @QueenSabe7
     
    Last edited: Jul 1, 2018
  18. Lady Belligerent

    Lady Belligerent • WNU Adoptions Coordinator• star 7 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Jan 29, 2008
    GM Update 3 of 3

    IC: Empress Bellorum

    Luxury Elite

    “He ignores me?” The Empress was curious, and everyone in her war room was on edge. Kronos had obviously been taking his time moving the Sith captives since the shuttle still hadn’t launched, and the Dark Lady didn’t want them lost to Haretisch or Insipid. Now he’d made the genius decision to ignore her request for a status update. At least she knew courtesy of the mercenaries that Serapis was on board, to say nothing for Kronos or Draconis.

    “Find VPO,” she shouted to Amara, “he can pilot my shuttle down.”
    Bellorum grabbed her datapad from the table beside her and picked up Insipid’s lightsaber that had been laying beside it. She stroked the smooth hilt and smiled as she pocketed it opposite her own.

    “Tell VPO that he’ll probably get to shoot someone this time,” she added, “he’ll complain less if he gets to kill something.”

    Bellorum pushed past the remaining being who had been in the war room. They were stunned at her decision, but kept silent. She’d gathered her cloak and a blaster on her way out. Her voice was echoed through her chambers as she checked the charge on her blaster, “Kronos will never see that wretch again if he doesn’t follow my orders.”

    The LE had been moved to a higher orbit to avoid any enemy encounter, meanwhile the docking masters were searching every ship that docked to be sure the occupants weren’t Hareticsh or Insipid’s minions.

    Bellorum found her shuttle warmed up and ready to launch. Instructions had been sent ahead so VPO knew the flight plan. They were able to launch and using the ship’s stealth capabilities, they landed in a remote area of the hangar of the Citadel. She stood on the boarding ramp, her eyes blazed in anger as she surveyed the fighting and the damage.

    In her pocket she felt the weight of Insipid’s lightsaber and her hand ached to wield it, but she deferred to her own instead. When she thumbed it alive, her face was bathed in its violet glow. Little was she aware of Kronos’ current predicament.

    ————-

    —New Moraband, Deward’s Palace

    The decrepit shuttle sounded like it was going to fall apart, but it held together and flew better than the crew could have anticipated. Sure, it still had some odd fluids that oozed down the interior walls, at unfortunate times, but all the gauges were in the green.

    The lush green terrain beside the swamp glistened as they flew over and circled the area. Rancors lay along the banks, while others floated in the water.

    If Leda flew lower, the Rancors would stir
    from the waters edge and swim away. This would leave behind enough area to get the speeder bikes off before the ship was devoured. Did the crew take Bellorum’s warning about the moss seriously though?

    TAG: @SkywalkerShine, @QueenSabe7, @WookieeRage

    ———

    —The Arae, Nirauan

    Hel had received a message towards the end of her lunch with Cal, so the doctor was alone on the walk back and unnerved that she couldn’t tell him where she was going. He arrived and sat down at his desk to read some messages from the nursing staff. ‘Of course Riordan’s neck was sore,’ Cal rolled his eyes, ‘the fool had some kind of pain at the start of every week.’ He typed back for the nurses and advised no extracurricular activities outside of work and to dispense some aspirin.

    Finishing up the messages, Cal went in search of the new girl. He found her finishing up the tasks he’d assigned. “Hello, uh...I’m Dr. Jepsun,” Cal said uncertain of the newcomer, “I understand you’re my new assistant. Do you have any experience?”

    TAG: @Nehru Amidala

    ~

    The message from her father had come as a surprise. Hel was convinced he would never let her near a dangerous situation again after the LE, let alone that she would be let out of Dr. Cal’s sight. But here she was, apparently going to the surface with Darth Syren, presumably to do... assassin stuff. She couldn’t lie to herself, it sounded intriguing.

    Finally she found herself in front of Darth Syren’s suite door, and rang the buzzer.

    TAG: @QueenSabe7
     
  19. QueenSabe7

    QueenSabe7 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 23, 2001
    IC: Syren
    The Arae, in orbit above Nirauan

    Sitting upon the untouched bed within her personal chambers, Syren was alone, the surrounding space sparsely decorated and mostly devoid of personal items. It was not this way because she had taken the time to make it so; it was simply due to the fact that she was rarely here at all. Familiar with constantly moving and not planting roots, it actually suited her tastes perfectly.

    The closet held a few robes, her drawers a few garments, but the majority held nothing; a good portion of her belongings having been kept safely in Aryan’s quarters where they would spend time together away from prying eyes. Now though, several of those things were lying at her feet in a large satchel and he was gone, descending planet side that very moment to begin engaging in all things political and boring. And she… she was preparing to join him albeit from afar, becoming one with the shadows and remaining unseen - something that brought her satisfaction and immense comfort, usually.

    This time, however, she wouldn’t get to truly enjoy being in her element because in order for her to do so, she would’ve needed to be alone.

    Syren glared at her wrist comm, a few minutes prior having listened to a message from the Lord Imperator himself, Darth Haretisch. He had marginally fleshed out her orders and she scowled at what had been asked of her. The man who had at one time so carelessly sacrificed her life just so he wouldn’t have to feel anymore, was putting her in charge of his only child, the young woman named Hel.

    The assassin shot up to her feet and paced, agitated at the implications of placing the two of them together. Initially she made the assumption that this was nothing more than another test of loyalty, but the longer she thought it over that didn’t make sense. No matter how artificially created she may have been, Hel was the former Night Herald’s flesh and blood and for her to be responsible for her safety? Was Haretisch actually insinuating he trusted her? Or was he trying to imply that she should trust him?

    Syren chuckled awkwardly, her brow furrowing in confusion as she forced herself to come to a stop. The idea that the lack of confidence she had in someone that reached a deep, intimate level could be the complete opposite in their view of her, well it made her uncomfortable. She felt off balance, like she was somehow being irrational… which she most certainly was not. She looked down at her bag then and eyed it intently, hesitating only a moment before dropping down to her knees and tearing it open. Locating a silver, cylindrical flask, she grasped it tightly and removed the cap, holding the spout just near her lips. Even though she eagerly inhaled the tantalizing fumes, she surprised herself and paused. Longing for a drink now more than ever, a frustratingly reasonable place in her mind asked of her… ‘was that wise’?

    “……”

    Kriff it, she decided, preparing to throw back the flask and drink every last drop of the amber liquid it contained. But just as the most miniscule splash of fiery sweetness touched her tongue, the door chime sounded overhead and startled her enough to nearly spill her precious drink all over. Syren cursed loudly, resealing and tossing her possession back into the bag before standing hastily to gather herself.

    That’s when she sensed her. Having been too inwardly focused she had missed her approach, but staring at the main doors to her suite while absently smoothing out her tank and adjusting her jacket, she was sure that the presence just beyond the threshold was that of her new partner.

    Hel.

    Moving to the access panel beside the entry, she looked at the holoscreen above the controls and sure enough it revealed a red-headed young woman. Syren looked her over once, sizing her up and taking in as much detail as her well-trained eyes could see. Then with a wave, she triggered the unlock sequence and the door slid open with a hiss, placing her face to face with Heratisch’s daughter.

    For a moment, she was unsure how to proceed, simply standing in the doorway and not speaking. Then with a shrug, the assassin turned and walked back over to where her satchel was and moved it to the bed, busying herself with making sure she had what she needed for the mission.

    “Drink?” she asked her companion, not actually having anything to offer except what was in her flask and she didn’t plan on sharing that. She was just no good at forced conversation.

    TAGS: @Lady Belligerent @Darth_wanderguard
     
  20. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist star 7 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    OOC: With input from Darth_wanderguard for the questions – thank you!

    IC: Aryan Graul

    Shuttle, then spaceport, Nirauan

    As the shuttle hurtled through the lower levels of Nirauan’s dense atmosphere, it shook with a few quick bursts of turbulence before aligning itself for its final approach into the capital city. It was at this point that the oppressive sun made its first appearance, breaking through the thin layer of fog and cloud cover to glint relentlessly against the passenger viewports on the right side of the shuttle. Aryan, who had been staring out at the lush terrain passing rapidly below them, winced and instinctively turned away to shield his eyes from the onslaught.

    Sitting across from Aryan on the opposite side of the shuttle – where he still had a clear view of the approaching spaceport – Ruusel seemed to detect the sudden movement from his boss and decided to use the opportunity to launch into his commentary. “Well, we’re arriving a bit later than intended,” he began matter-of-factly, “but it doesn’t seem to have thinned the crowd any.”

    Leaning to the side and propping his arm against the viewport to block the sun, Aryan lifted a brow and studied his chief of staff for a long moment. The veiled reprimand about being late did not go unnoticed, and he had to smile at that. His time with Syren was still fresh in his mind, but Ruusel himself did not need to know the details about their relationship, nor the true reason for his tardiness. Some things were better left unsaid, even between close associates. While he didn’t exactly consider Ruusel a friend, he had no complaints either. He did his job well; the man was certainly intuitive when it came to playing the political game and his wealth of knowledge could not be matched.

    Pushing those stray thoughts from his mind, the smile soon faded and Aryan turned serious once more. “No, of course not,” he replied casually to Ruusel’s observation about the crowds, his right hand idly stroking his beard as he spoke. “This is probably the most excitement these people have seen in decades.They may not all agree with the message, but they’re going to pull out all the stops regardless of their personal views. I’m a celebrity to them.”

    Ruusel did not look convinced. “Just stay behind security,” he warned with that critical look in his eye. It was in reference to Aryan’s penchant to stray off course and work the crowds, which caused a logistical nightmare for his security team. “Let them muscle a path and we’ll just follow. There are going to be a lot of questions. And the Nirauan media holds a grudge so you’ll have to spit some quick answers in passing, can’t just ignore them all. Just don’t say anything they can misuse.”

    Aryan scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. “So, in other words, more of the same.” Inhaling deeply, he took a moment to compose himself before straightening his posture so that his back was now pressed firmly against the seat. “Don’t worry, I have everything under control. I’ve wrestled with this gundark before. But on the off chance that I do mess up?” He smirked and reached forward to give a reassuring pat to the man’s thigh. “That’s where you come in and put some spin on it to make me look good. It’s a team effort, Ruusel, all or nothing.”

    Those words continued to echo in Aryan’s mind when the shuttle finally set down in the capital and they were instantly inundated by the masses, bringing their forward progress to a near standstill. The close proximity of so many bodies combined with the sweltering heat of the tropical climate made for a very uncomfortable experience. For his part, Aryan was glad that he had decided to forgo his outer robe and cape to combat the heat, but even with the lighter attire, the sweat was still rolling off his back and dripping down into his eyes. It was excruciating.

    But despite the insufferable conditions, Aryan maintained his composure with a radiant smile. He had missed this part of the job: the fast-paced environment and the masses pressing against him for recognition. He excelled at this and craved the attention. In many ways, it felt completely natural, almost like climbing behind the controls of a speeder after being away for several months. It was a skill that was never truly forgotten.

    As he moved forward into the crowd, he made a point to seek out individual faces and worked the gantlet with ease, shaking hands, waving, and even stopping on occasion to chat with a few people along the way to establish that personal connection. While he mingled with the masses, his security detail led the way at the front of the procession, cutting a path through the mob with astonishing precision. It all seemed rather organized for such a turnout...but then they crossed into the section reserved for the media. That’s when the questions started to fly and the scrutiny began.

    “Lord Hand, do you ever have any moral reservations about associating with the Sith?”

    Aryan merely smiled at the woman who had posed the question. While she had hit a little too close to home for his liking, his face revealed none of that. It remained a perfect mask of charismatic appeal. “That would make me human, yes?” He chuckled lightly to build some levity. “But it’s not about choosing sides...it’s about exploring every opportunity available to us so we can find the right solution and establish a more stable galaxy – a galaxy that’s safe for you and your children. We need to think outside the box.”

    “Aryan, do you think the Imperium’s aggression is justified?”

    The hulking reporter from the Nirauan Journal roughly thrust the microphone in his path, nearly clipping him in the face. Aryan had to quickly sidestep to avoid an embarrassing altercation. Combined with the way the man had clearly shown disdain by using his first name instead of his title, he decided to bypass the question and roughly pushed past, allowing his security detail to handle the rest if the reporter should continue to persist.

    “Mr. Prime Minister, have you arrived with such a large fleet as an intimidation tactic?”

    He flashed another smile to charm the crowd. “Not at all,” he laughed with a small shrug. “What can I say? I guess I like to travel in style…”

    “Hand, what can Nirauan expect from the Imperium if your mission is unsuccessful?”

    Pressing his lips into a firm line, Aryan paused and leaned close to the petite woman from the Nirauan Gazette, mostly to shield his face from the sun. Nevertheless, her emerald eyes shone brightly as he spoke into her proffered microphone. “At this point, I don’t want to focus on failure. We’re here to accomplish wonderful things, and I’d like to remain positive as we sit down and discuss this at the negotiation table. This is a big day, and I expect optimal results.”

    “Prime Minister, how do you respond to anxieties that Nirauan will be attacked militarily if it fails to fall in line?”

    Aryan inhaled deeply as he turned to face the reporter from the Nirauan Times, noting the almost savage look in the man’s eye. On instinct, he started to raise his hands to refuse the question, but then changed his mind at the last minute. It was best not to instill doubt this early on. He needed to take this one to solidify his position...

    “I understand your concerns, I truly do,” he answered evenly, coming to a stop and spreading his hands amicably. At this point, he turned his attention away from the reporter to focus on the bigger picture – the faces of those watching him with a mixture of trepidation, curiosity, and indignation. As he swept the gathered assembly, he paused briefly on a small girl sitting precariously on her father’s shoulders and offered her a gentle smile. It was in her innocent gaze that he found the motivation to continue.

    “It’s easy to fear the unknown,” he projected above the din of the crowd, his words laced with conviction and strength. “For many of you, the Imperium is just a faceless entity seeking to upend your daily way of life through the force of our military might. You fear for your families and their posterity, for everything you’ve built and toiled for over the years...you’re wondering, ‘will I have a future when the dust settles?’” He lifted a hand to acknowledge the rise of voices that accompanied those last few statements. “Let me say this right now – you have nothing to worry about. Most of what you’ve heard is a gross misconception. I’m here to set the record straight. I want to become that familiar face you can easily identify with, someone you can trust. I also want to reassure everyone that any kind of aggressive act on our part would be counterintuitive to what we’re trying to accomplish here through these negotiations. Our goal is to bring stability to Nirauan...not war. We want to usher you into a new era, one that will be prosperous for all of us. One where you no longer have to live in fear!”

    The masses cheered, and before the Times reporter could react or rattle off a counter-argument, Aryan’s security detail was ushering him forward. But before he departed, he flashed the man a thin smile.

    And so, it went on and on...

    TAG: @Darth_wanderguard
     
    Last edited: Jul 3, 2018
  21. WookieeRage

    WookieeRage Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Feb 3, 2016
    IC: Darth Ravenous
    Bridge, Intrepid..

    It all happened so fast. The Sith-Spawn let out a roaring yell as he felt the heat pass through his leg.

    He tried to catch himself as the severed leg made a flat 'splat' on the metallic flooring of the Bridge but there was no support. His other leg folded at a weird angle and he stumbled back away from Darth Haretisch; assisted by his appendages. The bone tips of the appendages screeched and pinged across the floor until the beast mounted a position in the upper corner of the ceiling; his appendages stretched out as a spider's web. His eyes met the Imperator's and he plucked a tech from under their seat with a quick thrust of the appendage through their chest. He held the impaled tech down below him and addresses Haretisch,

    "You know... I could be of use to you... I've had plenty of time to squelch my hunger. All because of the Supreme Leader..."

    The latter part of the statement was condescending and drawn out. His alliance with the Emperor had caused nothing but pain and suffering. He would rather someone win dominance within the Empire and subsequently fall in line. He was... Tired.

    Tense moments passed,

    "He means nothing to me... I would see him dead."

    He brought the dangling tech to his mouth out of necessity and tore into his face. The broken leg snapped into place, one could see the pain in the Sith-Spawn's face but it only furthered his connection to the Dark Side. His aura fought back against the Imperator's while a group of tendons poked through the cauterized wound winding together to reform his leg. It was a quick regeneration thanks to Dr. Black's experiments. A smirk peeked through his blood-soaked jowls. After lowering himself down he kept his distance but showed restraint as he knelt before Darth Haretisch.

    "What is thy bidding.. My Lord?"

    Tag: @Darth_wanderguard @Sinrebirth
     
    Last edited: Jul 3, 2018
  22. Kaleesh-Cyborg

    Kaleesh-Cyborg Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jan 4, 2017
    General Grievance Vexx
    Ground Assault, Advance on the Citadel


    The cyborg can feel eyes upon him; eyes that recognize him. He reaches out through the Force, trying to decipher who is watching him from the perceived safety of the citadel. It is no one he has encountered before. His yellow eyes scan the horizon, sifting through the clamoring soldiers on both sides fighting to claim lives while holding on to their own for all they are worth. At last, his gaze fixes on a distant figure who with apparent confusion throws himself headlong into the conflict. One more count to add to the killing ground. Bo Etraa will be yet another body lying at their feet before this battle is over.

    Next, the general’s attention is drawn to one who has boldly called him by name in a thunderous voice no doubt meant to intimidate. Darth Hades. Vexx has heard tell of him and his skill as a warrior. The zabrak Sith lord’s reputation precedes him, but it does not dampen the Kaleesh warrior’s hunger for a fight worth his while. The wound in his side is more and more becoming a distant memory as his mind is drawn to his lust for combat and higher challenges. He is about to respond to Hades through the subtlety of the Force when another presence halts that motion.

    Vexx winces as he feels a distinctly different presence in the Force; massive, dominating, lethal; one he has never directly encountered before. He senses immense mockery coming his way, which is nothing new. Half-mech, droid, robot, clanker, tinny. He has heard all of the derogatory remarks directed toward the fate he is condemned to live for the rest of his days. The wave of amusement only stokes his determination.


    ‘Ah, the legendary god-emperor Insipid,’ he responds through the Force, ‘We meet at last. This war just keeps getting better and better. After all this time trying to figure out the strange ways of the Sith, I get the pleasure of meeting the master of it all on the battlefield. It would appear my tenacity in sticking around is about to be rewarded.’

    Though his thoughts may come across as being snide, such a manner is not his intent. If he is about to meet the one behind all of these things he has been trying so hard to understand about the Sith, he knows his fate will swing either one of two ways. Either he will succeed in holding his ground and possibly defeat Insipid or he will die here on this battlefield. Though his preference for death would be to die on his home world of Kalee, he could not ask for a better way to go down, facing the most powerful Sith in this Empire that is now divided three ways. Despite the knowledge that he is a target, his is eager for this confrontation. Victory will gain him respect; defeat will gain him a way out of this nightmare he has been living for well over a decade. However, he cannot let his anticipation cloud his better judgement. This is not a duel, after all. This is a full-scale war with many relying on his direction, including the sole surviving underling general he is partnered with and he must remain grounded. Though he would like nothing more than to face the god-emperor directly, he cannot leave his post. Not yet. There is too much at stake depending on his orders as is made clear as he is contacted through his comlink once again.

    “Hold the wall, but do not press through the breach until I give the word,” he replies, eyeing the place where the gaping hole yawns, beckoning them to invade like angry wasps, “There is no reason to thin our own defenses by trying to push the attack prematurely. Hold position. Let them come to us so we can whittle them down. We have come too far to lose ground now. Be patient and hold what we have.”

    He knows he needs more time. In his eagerness to fight, he has not entirely forgotten the annoying shrapnel digging into his gut sack. Self-healing is a trick he has yet to master. Despite his best efforts, his attempts are always weak. Too many mechanical elements get in the way and his hatred for these parts of him necessary for survival and mobility only hinder his efforts further. He quickly draws on the Force to keep the pain at bay; that much he knows how to do so that he can maintain his focus. How he wishes he could just rip the piece of garbage out, but doing so would no doubt illicit bleeding that may or may not be difficult to staunch. It is a risk he is unwilling to take at this point. However, he cannot keep his troops at a stalemate. To do so could leave their forces terribly weakened, especially if Insipid is coming for him.

    Francium,” he speaks into his comlink again, “Focus your efforts on the breach and lead your troops through. Mine will cover from behind to strengthen your forces shortly.”

    His eyes again turn toward the citadel where he can now see Insipid cutting his way through the opposing ranks. Vexx knows to hold his troops in position is a death sentence for them all. They must go and a silent hand signal frees them to do so. He gestures for them to take after Francium as he had promised they would, then he puts forth extra efforts further to dull the pain burning from the wound in his side. He cannot afford such a distraction at this time and he can be nothing short of ready when Insipid consumes the distance that stands between them. As he focuses on quelling his pain, he keeps his weapons ever spinning, never missing a chance to grab a stray enemy trooper with his talons to bash him against the ground or send him sailing into his comrades. There is no question that, despite his injury, he is enjoying the thrill of this battle. He can sense the fear in Insipid; fear of losing his power. But this does not cause him to underestimate the god-emperor; not in the least. Vexx has been around the Sith long enough to know that fear is a powerful tool, especially when it resides with one as brutally merciless as Insipid.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth @Darth_wanderguard @Quinlan Vos @Snokers @E. L.Knight
     
  23. QueenSabe7

    QueenSabe7 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 23, 2001
    IC: Leda
    Shuttle, near Deward’s Palace, New Moraband

    Bringing the craft low, Leda wiped a light sheen of sweat from her brow as she leaned forward to peer through the dirty viewport of the shuttle.

    Vivid greens stretched out nearly to the horizon, the canopy colored with plants that she had never seen before reaching for the sky and competing for sunlight. Passing over the swamp area to one side, she spotted several rancors of varying sizes that had been lounging at the edges of the murky waters scurry away at her approach. Finding it odd that such ferociously savage creatures would be unnerved by anything, she smirked, already intrigued by what this strange place might have to offer.

    Searching for their landing spot, she recalled Bellorum’s warnings of the fauna and how it had a mind of its own. It was easy to realize the truth of the Empress’ words as it was immediately apparent that this place had a certain type of energy. The Force was alight here in a peculiar way, something sinister flowing in its currents that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was enough to cause the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end and a minor chill to run down her spine. Her danger sense tingled with increasingly frequency as she brought the shuttle even lower and she fidgeted in the pilot’s chair, reaching out with her senses to attempt to stay ahead of any impending threats.

    “Coming in hot, ladies,” she called back over her shoulder to Astra and Alana, having ignored the pair for the duration of the trip. “As soon as we land, we need to get the speeders off this fragging piece of junk and be on our way quickly.”

    The beaches of the swamp were bare now that the rancors had fled, but the warrior wasn’t sure how long that would last. Still, it was a clearing that would provide enough space to land and enough cover to get on their way without angering any trees or shrubbery. Leda giggled at the thought, her mind drifting over the crude depiction they had been provided with of the wood-like creature that supposedly lurked near Deward’s castle. Glancing behind her to the small bag she had brought and going over what it contained, she knew she was prepared to start any forest fires should the need arise.

    “Get ready!”

    She circled once and then brought the rickety ship down as swiftly as it would allow. Landing, it listed slightly on the uneven, muddy terrain, creaks and rattles sounding over the hull as if it would suddenly break into a hundred pieces.

    No time to waste, Leda shut down the engines and triggered the ramp to open, already on the move. She snatched up her sword and satchel without pausing, continuing straight to the cargo hold and assuming her companions were doing the same. She had no desire to become the snack of an annoyed flower or the play toy of some bored vines.

    TAGS: @SkywalkerShine @WookieeRage @Lady Belligerent
     
  24. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Soliloquy
    Temple Ruins, New Moraband

    Sitting there in it's chest compartment, watching the block rise and sensing the droids scanners and systems try to make sense out of it all had been. . .delightful. What had been best of all of course had been something far more, ethereal. To see those tentacled reliefs, to feel the very throb and dripping of the ooze from the cracks of this place. To know that it was, what it was in remembrance as Vitiates' gutted 'Dark Temple of Kaas' on another world might of been before a prison of the dead. Somehow this one had survived the plundering and been kept in some semblance, pure. It was a feeling they shared amongst themselves. Just a feeling. Of course the greatest thrill of all was something no one in this universe even knew or been exposed to yet.

    Abeloth. Her world had been resplendent in these ophidian grotesques. A made up name by people that had never known the builders nor inspiration of them, although he had. In a way through his dealings with Abeloth, and with the reborn visage of the Son in his Supreme Leader for a short time he had known and felt a flare that must have been a sparking influence. It was all as wonderful as it was horrifyingly simple.

    The Emperor AI paused, collating data. ‘This is an impossibility. Such sites are thirty millennia old... but Zakuul has been reduced to primitivism before.’

    The Temple yawed open, the doors askance. Puerile liquid oozed from the cracks; moss lined much of the stone. A solid invitation if ever there was one. Made out of hunger or a gesture of good faith, it could be either, neither, or both and more all one. The structure was positively ancient. But to sensors and a droid AI? It was inscrutable beyond the outside. A block, active after millennia? Impossible.

    ‘I know little of this world...’ the AI spoke through Soliloquy’s vocabulator. ‘What do you suppose awaits us?’

    "Everything, nothing. Through one door we might find nothing but dust, ooze, and decay. Through another we might find ourselves transported to a different world. Or we might find a promise and a way for all of us to have bodies crafted. We are dealing with ones that at their highest point predate Humans the galaxy over. This was theirs, a relief of despising or of exaltation to the same being we had the chance to meet a few times. Which they meant we cannot know without study of the depths and finding what truly awaits us." The voice came out sickly, sweet, and with just a soft glottal popping noise every now and then, "Say what you will of them, they made things to last. Come, let us go in and know them better!" There was an open door, and it was time to step through it.

    They let the realities feigned or otherwise drop away to only one. They were a holocron, carried by a droid, and the Force was indeed their ally. As they approached the memory surfaced of what happened in entering the Temple of Mortis. Of being flesh and bone, of finding the insane and riding with that head, of the final betrayal it had wrought and drinking deep of that ones mind. Of the clash among Titans! Of killing Mnngl-Mnngl. Of seeing Tyth reborn. Of seeing the seed of Tyth die, of cradling that sliver of spirit as best they were able as it was eaten by the magics that brought them here. Perhaps that was one of the truest statements of the reliefs that were about them now and the portal ahead of them. They were full of memories, their own and those ancient. The good and the the bad. Or rather, the desired and the loathed.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
     
  25. WookieeRage

    WookieeRage Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Feb 3, 2016
    IC: Astra
    Junk Heap spacecraft, Deward's palace...

    The flight was not as bad as Astra had anticipated.

    Maybe that filthy technician knew what he was doing

    The vessel shook violently for a few minutes as they arrived dropped out of hyperspace, she had her rifle immaculately disassembled in front of her before the parts were thrown about the floor. She lost it,

    "Kriffing hell! This is bantha-fodder!"

    She knelt down and began to pick the parts up; but then it happened.. A tiny bag of spice fell from her undershirt which she quickly concealed once more before scanning the room with furrowed brow. She gathered all the pieces and began to clean and assemble the rifle. Astra quickly finished the task and she put the gun back in her duffle bag before heading to the refresher.

    She stared into the cracked reflection with her hands planted upon the sink, judging herself. An idea passed through her mind but it faded. Astra pulled the spice out once more.

    To crave... To want... It never left her. But she was here because of her problem. If she had stayed clean she could've left all of this behind, to run from Darth Ravenous. She may not be allied with the beast currently, but he would come for her. He would always survive and come for her. She never wanted to see that creature again..

    Her arms shaking now, she unwrapped the bag and held it in front of her pretty, green eyes.

    One would see an empty bag flung into the toilet and Astra exit the refresher with a quick swipe across her nose. She grabbed her duffle bag and followed Leda down the ramp.

    Tag: @QueenSabe7 @SkywalkerShine @Lady Belligerent
     
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 6, 2018