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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. Nehru_Amidala

    Nehru_Amidala Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Oct 3, 2016
    Tag: @Darth_wanderguard , @Lady Belligerent

    IC: Darth Hekate,
    The Arae, Nirauan



    Turning around, Anya was surprised to see Doctor Jepsun there, along with Hel. Were they friends or lovers? It really wasn't any of her business anyway, but she was still curious. She would figure it out later, and she smiled brightly at him. "Yes, I have training in field medicine as well as lab work. Part of my schooling requirements included working with doctors on the front lines in the lower-class areas and slums bringing medical aide to the scum-hunters and dregs. I had more than a few run in with spice addicts, I can tell you that much."

    Waving her hand, she revealed a lightsaber made out of twisted wood. "I made that myself out of an invasive vine. Native to Selonia, not to Corellia."
     
  2. E. L.Knight

    E. L.Knight Jedi Master star 3

    Registered:
    Dec 4, 2012
    Darth Hades
    Defending the Citadel.

    Hades was rocked by the explosions all around. It was intense, and he reveled in it.

    Death was all around him and he felt it as a pure thing. Death was really the only pure thing he could think of, honestly.

    As Hades cut down enemy soldiers, making his was to Vexx, a new presence entered the field.

    One that he had promised to kill.

    Insipid.

    Hades rage boiled forward like the lava rivers on Mustafar and he became frenzied, yet precise among the chaos.

    He could finish what he started and then focus on the cyborg.

    He turned to Finis.

    "Protect the breach. Even to the last man."

    Hades then cut a path towards Insipid and the cyborg.

    "I see my handiwork work left an impression upon you. Care to finish what we started?"​
    TAG: @Kaleesh-Cyborg,
    @Sinrebirth

    Captain Finis
    Defending the Breach

    Hades orders were clear. Protect the breach at all costs.

    Finis and his men quickly moved to defend the gap at the base of the Citadel.

    "We hold this spot! We do not waver! You are what stands between rule and anarchy. Be not afraid to die, for it is a reward to glory!"

    They all banged their chest plates.

    "TO HELL AND BACK! FOR HADES! FOR OUR EMPRESS! FOR GLORY!"
    TAG: Anyone on the battle field.
     
  3. Quinlan Vos

    Quinlan Vos Jedi Padawan star 1

    Registered:
    Oct 24, 2017
    IC: Darth Francium
    Assault on the Citadel

    Francium grinned as he watched Hades rush away towards the newest combatant on the field, the one he was told was the god-emperor. He felt the wave of power emmanting from that direction, and knew the Sith was one that should not be messed with, but he couldn’t help himself from such a distance and sent a spout of laughter and mockery right back towards the source.

    He knew he should stop wasting time, and he immediately followed Vexx’s orders and threw his men into the breach, ordering them to take no prisoners and not hold back. He glanced sidelong at the young man he’d sent his men towards originally, the one with the staff, but couldn’t find him in the sea of soldiers. That was slightly unnerving, but he could handle that man easily if need be.

    As his troops hammered the men under Hades, he glanced towards Vexx. He noticed that Insipid was drawing ever closer to the General, and contemplated returning to the cyborgs side, as he knew Vexx was injured and not at all in fighting shape. He decided he would get his men through the gate first, and then check in again to see if Vexx needed any assistance at that point. The triangle of Sith Lords drew closer together, Hades charging towards Insipid, the god-emperor cutting through ranks towards Vexx, and the cyborg holding his ground against both. The battle would be intense, and none would escape unscathed.

    A blaster shot breezes past Francium, and he turned his attention back towards the breach, pushing his men forward to take the wall and push the attack further.

    Tags: @Kaleesh-Cyborg @Sinrebirth @Snokers @E. L.Knight
     
    Last edited: Jul 5, 2018
  4. Snokers

    Snokers Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jul 8, 2015
    IC: Darth Anark
    Space...



    The battle had evolved. The arena had tightened, almost as though space itself had shrunk to contain the action for some cruel Gods to look on and relish.

    The Sith Inquisitor’s lips were pursed in intense concentration as he fiddled with the controls above his head in an attempt to salvage some extra shield power. His comm crackled and Insipid’s voice filled the cockpit, “Get ready.”

    'He lives...' One of the little voices in his head observed in a blunt tone that was neither here nor there. Anark could feel The Supreme Leader’s presence in the Force once more - more prevalent than he’d ever felt it before, full of rage and cunning.

    “Yes, I got that!” He returned aloud, irritated.

    The TIE’s sensors erupted into a fast-ascending alert tone that made his heart sink as four interceptors appeared at his rear, approaching at high speed and trying to acquire a lock on him. He saw one of the first of the last two TIE’s in the second shadow squadron burst into flame. He pushed the engines to the point where the entire ship rattled - the lock alert getting faster and faster - and shot upwards before performing a few strafing manoeuvres in quick succession from left to right.

    The last remaining pilot in his squadron appeared in a hologram between Anark’s two hands which clutched the steering.

    “My Lord,” the pilot was clearly in a state of shock. Anark could hear the pilot’s own sensors blaring over the holo transmission. “They’re everywhe—”

    But then he was dead.

    The Sith exhaled deeply, his pupils large enough to house a scuttling insect.

    The cockpit flashed red. He tried to locate Kwea’s ship through the viewport. He couldn’t. He heard two interceptor torpedoes launch. He bowed his head and grasped the flight controls in one hand and brought the other up to his nose, pointing his first two fingers up towards his forehead, he closed his eyes and tried to grip the racing torpedoes with the Force. Finding them wasn’t easy – with their speed, his speed, his brother's phantom grip on him, and the adrenaline of the whole thing. He continued to strafe the TIE, eyes closed, relying completely on the Dark Side. He gave himself to it. It was quite possibly the most silent and the most still Darth Anark had ever been.

    The amplified scream of the interceptors was the only sound to penetrate his ears now.

    He had the torpedoes. He moved two fingers smoothly around in different directions, as if smearing war paint on his forehead. He was aware of the flight controls slipping from his grip from the sweat on his palms. He diverted both protons, guiding them backwards through space, and with a final exertion in the Force, slammed one into each of the two ships that headed the pursuing interceptor squadron. His eyes pinged open and he was thrown back in his seat as the interceptors spun and collided with one another, snuffing each other out in a terrific blaze.

    He didn’t celebrate. There was no cheering or screaming, even the voices had hushed.

    He checked the shields. eighteen percent after heading just a few meters upwards into the crossfire of the fight.

    He eyed one of the Twilight Sun vessels, then his their own capital ship.

    Which one would he risk a suicide mission to board?...




    -----


    IC: Bo Etraa

    Battle at the citadel grounds…



    He knew a large chunk of credit could well be deposited straight into his prestige account with the Twilight Empress if he could manage to take out a figurehead like General Grievance Vexx.


    Bo fought with the swiftest skill and staggering agility as he pounced from one feeble trooper to the next, cracking helmets with his deadly staff and shattering knee caps with the ramped-up firepower of his blaster. Vexx was visibly weakened, a seemingly easy target. But then Bo spotted a Sith on the battlefield who looked to be among Vexx’s ranks. He ground his teeth. He gazed at the Force wielder, sizing him up, trying to make a sensible decision on his next play.

    The pain was a hot pain. Searing. He dropped to one knee when the bolt entered and then exited his calf in the blink of an eye. Bo had paid the price for his lack of vigilance. A lowly First Order scumbucket had taken a shot at him. He could see the exact trooper, black visor trained on him. Why did he fire just a maiming shot through such a clear and easy line of fire? And then he began to walk towards him, riot control baton (looked like a Z6) activated and hoisted above his head as he sprinted towards Bo.

    He picked himself up as best he could, the burning sensation was tremendous, and he could feel the bone shift inside his leg. He breathed deep and loudly, fired a shot into an Imperium soldier’s abdomen then met the charging trooper’s baton with his staff. He felt weak and outmatched, trying like hell to move all his weight on his good leg. The sporting blaster had been knocked from his hands with the force of the attack, kicked across the dust in the skirmish. The trooper got a punch in to his jaw. Bo recoiled in… outrage. The trooper made a taunting gesture with his gloved fingers. Was this someone he knew? Someone he’d crossed?

    He met each strike of the electrified baton with everything he had. As desperation mounted and the odds of survival diminished by the second, his injury began to make him feel physically sick.

    Did I hell come all this way to go out like this!

    Pushing up with both legs, he levelled an armoured elbow into the side of the white helmet. It made an audible crack but not a physical one. The pain from the weight of standing straight was excruciating. Bo screamed like a banshee as he headbutted the helmet – a move he always thought rather… distasteful. It dazed him, but it provided a small slot of time for him to take advantage of. He threw himself on the ground and crawled, experiencing a fleeting relief from the pain from being horizontal. He gripped the dropped blaster with both hands. He could hear the troopers lumbering steps as he hurried towards him, ready to execute.

    Bo turn onto his back just in time to engage the three second charge on the pistol’s secondary fire. He made the shot and took his adversaries head clean off his shoulders.


     
  5. Halle Dray

    Halle Dray Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jan 6, 2016
    IC: Kwea Acantha

    Space


    "Brilliant work!" Kwea cheered hoarsely into the comm as she saw all the guns go up in smoke and blasts.


    She hadn't even realized that she'd been holding her breath. Her cheer had come a few moments too soon. Five TIE Interceptors came roaring in to fill the gap the Sith had just cleared. The curved wingsets of the TIEs with the guns on each tip pointed at her and Anark. These weren't just any TIEs, they were Imperium ships. Haretisch.


    Kwea's own starfighter was pushed upwards as she evaded blasts and her perceptive eyes noted that Twilight Sun's guns were focused on the Imperium.


    "Second Shadow, where are you? Anyone on your tail?" she asked into the comm channel.


    Looking for a way out, Kwea saw the Star Destroyers up above and saw that one was pretty badly beat up. She'd start with that.


    "My squadron, I'm going up. Come with me. We're going to start blasting that Destroyer's weak points. Try and make sure Twilight Sun stays focused on the Imperium. Second Shadow, I advise you do the same regarding Twilight Sun. I can't come down through those blasts but there’s a destroyer I can possibly take out. If you can join me, great. If not...,” Kwea bit her lip, “May the Force be with you.”


    This was more responsibility than she’d had in previous space battles. Kwea hoped that she wouldn’t mess up this time...


    As she geared up to turn her fighter around, the brunette ran a analysis of a Star Destroyer’s weak spots over in her head. Shield generators were near the command center. If she could make a run on that, she’d risk being shot by the nearby guns but the command center could be hit and the shields disabled. The guns would need to be destroyed and the engines bombed. And all the while there’d be hordes of fighters coming out of the hangar to greet her.


    She wasn’t sure if she would be able to use the Force to aid her except in her flying tactics. However, Kwea decided to use a few hard Force Pushes and an occasional addition of Fear to throw her enemies off as she began her ascent to the destroyer.

    tags: @Snokers @Sinrebirth
     
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 6, 2018
  6. dragonsith13

    dragonsith13 Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Apr 3, 2005
    T'Tkura
    Prison Cell


    The anger and malice which poured out of T’Tkura was palpable. Already strong in the force after a lifetime of training within the Jedi Order allowed him to draw on it with ease. The unfamiliarity of it seemed even less so, as the passion and feeling to which, he tapped into seemed all too natural. Instinctual. Right. As a Whiphid his thick fur afforded him a significant layer, through the hours of torture had soaked him preventing him from retaining and real body heat. For the first time in what felt like forever he felt an internal warmth. Growing and seeking to be fed. His eyes rolled around in his head as his whole-body shook in the shackles that bound him to the cell he was in. Violently pulling on the bracers anchored to the wall. Bracers and anchors made of thick Mandalorian Iron. Thought to be impenetrable to breaking. It was not his goal to break free in a decided instance. In fact, the four hours while being tortured it was all he could do to concentrate on one single action. After hours of being pummeled with water, tortured. Pools of were still present throughout the cell, and all that time T’Tkura had been working towards moving droplet after droplet onto the metal binder on his arm. The pain was numb, as his body was in a state of shock. Still droplet after droplet of water found its way down the chain, or up the wall to the anchor point of the bracer on his arm. Collating around it. The temperature in the cell had steadily been dropping. And while there were no atmospheric controls to keep it in any ways comfortable, the temperature had dropped well below the near freezing temperature that cell normally was. The result of the him, utilizing his mastery in cytokinesis. Drawing the heat out of every molecule in the room, funneling it out into the cell block hallway. T’Tkura took in a deep breath, his breathing had become more and more shallow over time. To nearly a breath every ten minutes. The exhale from his lung nearly froze upon leaving his mouth. Icicles formed on his fur. He was not even shivering anymore as his vitals had plummeted significantly. In reality he was made for this, as much of his home world was a frigid tundra and snow-covered system. Still he was pushing himself beyond what any of the strongest Whiphids would, his training in the force and will the only thing saving him from moving beyond a point of no return and becoming a block of ice. The walls of the cell were covered in a sheen of ice, and the previous liquid pools of water from previous tortures were now frozen solid.

    The anchor point covered in a thick layer of ice now, flexed slightly as the outer layer of the iron had be permeated slightly by drops of water. The iron continued to become more and more brittle as the temperature dropped. T’Tkura’s heartbeat was near flatlined, but still rhythmically responding over minutes.

    T’Tkura’s eyes opened slightly, the film of ice covering his eyelids cracking. With a quick jolt and yank his arm extended, pulling the chain to its full length. The anchor at the end of it shattered, breaking from the wall, freeing his arm. A large exhale of freezing breath and his arm came down, one of his ankle binder brittle from the cold as well, was easily snapped as he reaches out in the force.

    T’Tkura was on his way to escaping when he felt the hound recoil slightly in anger. The bond flowing two ways and back to T’Tkura. The more primal aspects of his nature taking over, seething with anger at the torture of the hound, his hound. T’Tkura roared with a bloodlust as he felt the captors closing in on the hound. T’Tkura yanked at his other chain. Still his breath nearly freezing as he exhaled, his movements becoming more violent as he yanked at the remaining binder on his other leg.

    Instantly T’Tkura stopped, his gazed focused on the wall of his cell. Though separated he was staring in the direction he knew the hound to be. Still and focused he pushed back on the bond, flooding the hound with energy, strength, and malice. It was what the beast had been craving for months and now it had it.

    The hound for the first time in months fell silent, and still. Content. Fulfilled.

    The four guards which entered the cell ready to administer their therapy. The two of which held electrical prods/batons, two of which electrified short whips barbed with spikes.

    “Here beasty” One of the guards maliciously spoke as the hound was struck with his baton, the searing electrical pulses coursed through its body, causing a tremor and slight burn at impact.

    The other joined in quickly with their own instruments of torture, providing their therapy to the hound. Mercilessly and sadistically taking pleasure in the suffering of the animal. With each crack of their whips and electrical prod the hound felt increasingly more pain. Despite the unrelenting abuse of the animal, the hound did not make a sound, recognizing this the guards poured more abuse upon the beast, as they were almost incensed by the lack of reaction from the Sith hound. The pain the hound felt was evident as in its eyes, which one would be able to see its resolve, there was immense pain in Two-Fang’s eyes. Yet despite it all the hound remained resolved and reserved.

    The abuse at the hands of the guard handlers continued…

    The lights above on the cell flickered, something rather quite normal. Though one of the guards caught a silhouette in the open cell doorway. The two nearest of the guards were thrown back into the far wall from a force push. The other two, including the main antagonist looked back at the soiled and matted fur of a being standing just outside the cell. The cell door hisses with a sudden jolt as it closed. The hound’s head rose slightly, looking towards the door in anticipation. T’Tkura’s fingers toggled the cell door, the locking mechanism audibly heard clicking and locking in place echoed down the cell block. A second swipe of the terminal that had been left open by the guards and another failsafe was disabled. One of the guards managed to dive towards the cell door but was not nearly in time to reach it before it closed and locked. The main guard whom had taunted the beast so with his words before, turned to look and see the restraints which held the Tukata in chains released and on the cell floor. The Tukata’s tail and legs all free from restraint.

    A moment of horror was seen on the guard’s face, as the animal that had been relentlessly torturing for months was now unrestrained.

    T’Tkura pulled one of the power connectors at the cell panel loose and the overhead lights which illuminated the cell and cage of the Tukata ceased.

    Simultaneously all four of the guards went from complete fear, to utter and absolute horror.

    Their lasting image of the hound being that its head had risen from the defeated and painful demeanor, to one that silently snarled upon them. Two-Fangs eyes focused and filled with bloodlust from months of abuse at their hands. An almost playful and vindictive gaze from the hound.

    Blackness ensued as only a small faint light from a view port near the top of the cell door shone through.

    The silent and still cell instantaneously erupted in a ravenous growl, the sounds of impacts against walls, chomping, and screams of terror echoing out of the cell. The tail of Two Fang whipped around nearly cleaving one of the guards in half, his bowels falling out onto the floor. A second guard felt the razor-sharp claws of the hound across his legs, severing and gouging out tissue, causing him to fall immediately to the floor. The chaos ensued as the cracks of whips and electrical prods flashed, like firefly’s in the night. Strobing the room with flashes of light, in which they saw the sporadic movements of the Sith hound moving from one of them to the next. Another guard felt immense pressure in his shoulder and neck along with the warm feeling of blood flowing out of his neck and shoulder as Two Fang sank his teeth into him, with a lurch half of the man’s throat and surrounding shoulder were ripped away from him as he fell dying. From there Two Fang was instantly upon the last guard, pouncing and slashing at the man’s face, nearly completely severing one of his arms that happened to try and shield himself in vain from the claws of the hound. The guard was quickly overcome and succumbed to the brutal and primal assault.

    The taste of flesh that it had yearned for, for so long was an instant boon to its stamina and health. The hound growled and snarled as it dove into the lifeless and mangled body of the last guard it had assaulted, with teeth, consuming.

    A whimper was heard from within the cell, along with a very faint sound of what sounded like something dragging against the cell floor. In fact, it was so, as the guard which Two Fang had nearly ripped the legs off of, was trying to crawl to the cell door. Managing to reach the door, he reached up. His finger soaked in blood as he tried to toggle what he thought was the control panel to initiate an emergency override of the doors.

    The low vicious snarl of the hound was heard behind his head as he froze in place. He could feel the hot breath of the hound against the back of his head. Seconds passed as the hound, nearly inched from the back of his head did not attack. The guard, whom had consequently been the ring leader, and one which offered the most verbal and physical abuse, slid down slightly, and turned around. Shaking and sniveling, his face came around in the direction of the hound. The only thing visible, due to the faint light shining in through the cell door slot, being the snarling snout and mouth filled with razor sharp teeth, merely a few inches from his face. Crying and trembling, the spittle from his mouth was dripping down as he began to soil himself.

    The only thing the guard could see in the darkened cell, as he cowered against the cell door, was the snout and grin of the hound. The teeth of the hound, illuminated slightly by the light from the cell door slot, were amplified in their presence right next to his face. While the audible snarl and low reverberating growl from the Tukata pressed upon the guard. A mix of saliva and blood dripping from its pronounces fangs as they nearly touched the guard’s forehead.

    T’Tkura stood stoically outside the close cell, waiting. Feeding off the hound as it fed off him. Hearing the snarl which followed up the sound of the remaining guard struggling from within the cell… then silence… then a low feral growl and snarl… seconds passed as the whimpers from the guard were heard. Followed by a quick deathly scream from the last alive guard.

    The crunch of bone, sound of thrashing… then feasting.

    T’Tkura gave his hound the time it needed and then the door opened. Finally they were both unrestrained, looking to no longer be prisoners in chains. Ever again.

    @Sinrebirth
     
  7. dragonsith13

    dragonsith13 Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Apr 3, 2005
    sinre approved.

    Draconis
    The Citadel ~ Unaccompanied


    The binders had been removed and he now stood outside the cell which he had been caged in over the last six plus months. Draconis’ gaze followed the binders to the ground where a distinct clang was heard as they impacted the floor before slowly looking up to hear Darth Kronos, their escort, addressing Serapis and himself.

    For Kronos, allowing the shadows to bathe either of his charges was not the wisest of plays. Even if he thought them to being within his peripherals. Furthermore the pronouncement that Serapis and he should be making their way to the hanger and shuttle was even more startling. The idea rolled around in his head. Nearly naked and barefoot Draconis allowed a moment of pause, wonder at what the young, but powerful, Sith might be playing at… then he felt it. His thoughts elsewhere, unbalanced and not in the moment. It was all that was needed to convince Draconis of what to do. “To the shuttle then.” With a sinister grin, Draconis' words came out hanging in the air from the shadows that Kronos had allowed him to slip into, but he was no longer there, gone and moving.

    The chaotic sights and sounds of the battle had been upon the Citadel, Region, and system for hours now. It was, at the moment ambient noise, surrounding the whole landscape and sky in war.

    He would need to make a few stops.

    A pair of Twilight Guards of The Empress Bellorum were rushing by, the two of them were thrown into a nearby wall. Still stunned and before they even knew what was happening, they were being assaulted in close as a rapid set of punches to one of the guards, followed by a leg sweep of the other standing one brought them even more into a beaten state of shock. The one guard still standing felt his vibro-blade unsheathe from his chest sheath. A physical push sent him back. Draconis rolled to the side plunging the blade into the chest of the guard he had taken the legs out from under, just as the guard has been trying to lean up and gain his feet. The blade was in and out of his chest in a flash as it flew through the air and hit the stunned guard that had been pushed back right in the respirator of his helmet. The blade embedding through his jaw and mouth. He fell in shock, dying. Draconis reached over, grabbing his wrist communicator, and pulling the vibro-blade out helmet. Clasping the helmet he ripped out the embedded ear piece, placing it in his own ear while dialing in the communicator. The sound of chatter over the Twilight Guards frequency was clearly picked up. Troop movements, calls for reinforcements, and likewise reporting on the Imperium and First Order Forces movements were flooding the comms. All of it allowing Draconis to move further undetected deeper into the Citadel.

    Coming to a terminal, he was quickly logged in and subsequently accessing basic information. Identifying a nearby secure and critical communications center on the floor he was on. Everyone was busy brawling outside and in the sky…

    The guard at the door of the room, was dead before he even registered Draconis being there. His neck snapped through the force in a violent swift move. The door to the room opened with his key card, still attached at his wrist slide pull and within another few seconds the two communications officers within the room, preoccupied with their duties both fell dead on the floor. One with a vibro-blade in his neck, the other slid down the wall after having been slammed into it with a powerful force push which had snapped his neck. Draconis slid into the main chair at the terminal. Multiple screens and readouts up in front of him. The feel of the cold floor on his bare feet, while he sat in tattered and nearly non-existence prison rags was a stark contrast to the clean and well-organized room he sat in. The two lifeless bodies of the officers off to the sides of him.

    “Let’s see what we have here…” Draconis quietly spoke to himself as he began inputting commands into the terminal. He already had primary access due to the quick dispatching of the two officers, their terminal being still up, active, and logged in with their credentials. The sub-systems were easy to bypass as he continued to gain further access into more secure systems. The more secure networked resources were harder to locate but found.

    Citadel Schematics. System commands. Networked defense systems. Personnel Files. Even mission profiles and journal entries. Draconis wondered what Lord Kronos might have been doing at the moment, and then resumed accessing more critical areas of the Citadel Network.

    A message requiring escalation and ID verification popped up on the screen. Draconis’ head cocked slightly still staring at the screen, next his right arm reached out while he remained seated, palm and fingers open all while not breaking his gaze from the terminal screens. The cold dead hand of the higher-ranking officer that had been slammed into the wall, was now in his grasp. Draconis' fingers closed around the wrist of the lifeless appendage, the body having been quickly and forcefully dragged across the floor into his outstretched hand. Draconis guided the hand onto the biometric sensor on the desk, placing the officers hand upon it.

    A quick input from his left hand into the keyboard and the terminal responded by approving authorization and granting him access. Releasing the hand of the dead officer, it fell to the floor and Draconis resumed mining for information.

    What better way to show his gratitude for the hospitality shown over the last six months, than to leave a parting gift. Disabling the targeting sub-routines of the orbital defense cannon systems should suffice. With a final keystroke, Draconis executed a command which rebooted the orbital defense canons of the Citadel Tower, there would be a brief interruption in service with the targeting systems going offline and rebooting. Though the calibrations would be completely off and quickly noticed as their targeting systems would be nearly rendered useless. At least until they figured out what he had done and corrected it. It was an easy correction, but not something normally done in the heat of a firefight. A thus a window had been open for anyone whom cared to take advantage and a bit of chaos injected. Satisfied, Draconis got up from the terminal, a small datapad in hand that he disconnected from the terminal after the downloads he specified had completed.

    Striding out of the communications center, he looked to his left and then right down each of the adjoining hallways before setting out on his next stop. The Citadel shook with the reverberations of artillery, silent alarms with flashing indicator lights were present around every corner. It seemed as if the Tower was nearly and completely under siege. With that in mind Draconis calmly proceeded to his next destination. It was a brief stop and one which required little persuasion, as throughout his wake a small cadre of guards and personnel were dispatched and now laid dead, like a trail of dead bodies left in the wake of a storm. A faint trail of blood stained footprints here and there.

    Most importantly, regarding his little side excursion was that his personal effects were in hand. Though he skimped on the clothing at the moment opting to secure what was most important. Artifacts. Swords. Saber. It was convenient of the Empress to have kept them in such a secure consolidated area for safe keeping. Draconis appreciated such, with a smug grin on his face as he resumed traveling to his destination. Still half naked and in rags but more outfitted than previously he had been.

    Exiting the interior sections of the Tower, Draconis was moving more in the open. The screech of fighters above and sounds of artillery slugs whistled by high above. Blaster fire, explosions, and flashes filled the grounds and sky.

    The presence of force signatures across the field was nearly overwhelming as king to pawn moved about the battlefield weaving their own line of purpose. The massive base of the Citadel Tower prevented direct lines of sight around it, still he felt the powerful presence of the Emperor nearby, it was unmistakable. On foot and engaged. Interesting. A slight sense of pride washed over Draconis as he was nearing the shuttle site. Prepped and ready it was there as specified… a shuttle destined to the orbiting prison ship Atonement. How aptly named and how easily information flowed.

    The scene surrounding the shuttle was unsettling, as given the troop movements and unfolding battle. Nowhere was safe. As within his ear, the comm traffic of the Twilight Guard still came through. The shuttle crew was making last minute preparations and awaiting, as specified by Lord Kronos, regarding the arrival of Draconis, Serapis, and himself.

    Draconis was never one to disappoint.

    One of the shuttle guards, aware that several Sith would be arrive with Kronos, could not help but be startled at the sight of a half-naked man striding up to the shuttle. Draconis’ mannerisms, demeanor, and command no different than if he had been in full battle regalia. “We need to leave now Corporal.”

    “Make sure Lord Kronos and Lord Serapis are on board.” There had been too much indecisiveness along with a lack of focus. “Inform the young pilot of our eagerness to get underway.” His tone was not that of someone having been imprisoned for six months. Draconis stood peering at the man, not giving the shuttle crew member a moment to reacts, commanding him to carryout out what he had said.

    Draconis turned to peer out across the muddied and chaotic scene that was the assault on the Citadel. Waiting the arrival of Kronos and potentially Serapis. His hand flexing slightly upon the hilt of his blade which was again held in his hand.


    @Sinrebirth
    @Darth Kronos
    @DarthIshyZ
     
  8. Dagobahsystem

    Dagobahsystem Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 25, 2015
    IC: Darth Saadi

    Zipping past five squadrons of Tie interceptors who were headed elsewhere, the Assault crew focused fire on the prison ship. Navigating through the treacherous space battle, Assault somehow managed to see an opening; setting a course to land at the prison ship hangar and hopefully locate the two Sith prisoners being held within.

    There had been much to think about during the chaotic battle, but Saadi kept his mind focused on the present moment and the task at hand. He ignored any distractions nudging at him through the Force, anticipating more conflict once they'd landed.

    Having successfully done just that, the changeling noted the presence of four squads of soldiers of various origins standing guard. Time would be of the essence if they were to complete this mission.

    "I'll take that first squad of Mandalorians." Saadi said to Mallace and Cocytus as the boarding platform clanged to the hangar surface.

    Sprinting down the walkway, Saadi Force choked the first soldier charging towards him, then immediately deflected several blaster bolts with his crimson lightsaber.
    Leaping into the air, the changeling came down hard on a second Mandalorian, slicing at his head ferociously; causing him to stumble and fall, after which Saadi ran him through mercilessly.

    Suddenly, a blast of energy met the Clawdite's left shoulder, forcing him to a knee, as he let out a groan. He'd been hit. Turning, he Force pushed his assailant into the wall, charging him with his blade pointed forward like a lance. Letting out a war cry, Saadi stabbed the third Mandalorian in the face and sliced vertically downward, nearly cutting him in half.

    The Sith apprentice turned, his normally golden eyes now burning red. His hatred only stoked by the pain in his shoulder. Where was that last Mandalorian he fumed! He turned once again, to see that there were indeed 5 more still alive and heading his way.

    Tags: @Sinrebirth @Darth Kronos @Darth Cocytus
     
  9. SkywalkerShine

    SkywalkerShine Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Aug 16, 2007
    IC: Alana Geyser
    Inside the Shuttle, near Deward’s Palace, New Moraband

    Alana's eyes widened when she heard one of the women shout at her, saying, “ME!" She cleared her throat quietly and began to find her seat in the lounge. She walked towards the seating and sat down quietly, awaiting their fate. Whatever crazy mission that she and the others were facing, Alana was ready to find a way to ditch these guys and just head home. Maybe she wasn't cut out for all of this. Maybe... if Twen were here, things would be easier. Alana gazed down at the table quietly.

    All she wanted to do was prove that she could fend for herself in this big galaxy. As a little girl, Alana wanted to be an explorer, discover new things and meet amazing people. But no. All she got was being a thief and being forced to do something she didn't want to...

    Finally, the shuttle made it through New Moraband's atmosphere. After the shuttle passed through the clouds, the eerie-looking swamps were seen from beneath as the shuttle flew over the trees. Alana wasn't Force-sensitive but she could feel that this place was dark and wrong. That feeling she had couldn't be far from the truth.

    “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.”

    Alana snapped from her trance and began to hold onto something, ready for impact. The shuttle shook violently as it made contact with the ground. Boy, the impact was insane! Thankfully, they made it out alive. But Alana, Astra, and Leda weren't out of the woods (or swamps) just yet. The two, young woman were already heading down the ramp, ready for action. Thankfully, Alana had her blaster and staff with her. At least they were nice enough to give her weapons. Holding the staff close, the young woman quietly kissed the staff while following the women. "Thanks, Twen..." she whispered, holding back the tears.

    "No time for tears, girl. Time to move forward," she could hear her Wookie friend say. Smiling sadly, Alana walked from the shuttle cautiously. "So... What's the plan again?" she asked, rubbing her neck while trying to hide her fear.

    TAG: @WookieeRage @QueenSabe7 @Lady Belligerent
     
  10. Darth Kronos

    Darth Kronos Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Jan 2, 2016
    IC: Darth Kronos

    The sounds of battle grew stronger.

    The half of the Stormtroopers that Kronos had sent to search for Draconis were already long gone, clearly eager to find him and likely aware of the urgency of the mission. Kronos had decided to stay behind for a brief moment, just in case Draconis or Serapis showed up at the last minute. As the violence that was surrounding him increased, the less he could concentrate. The Force was clouded. A confusing, muddled mess.

    An explosion suddenly blew out a portion of the Citadel's wall, and he felt a large chunk of rubble graze his face. He let out a loud yell upon its impact. Reaching up with his left hand, he discovered that a portion of his lower jaw was missing. Instead of skin he felt blood, broken bones, and broken teeth. Multiple sharp jolts of pain shot through the injured area every second, and he soon found it incredibly difficult to speak. Applying pressure, while necessary, only added to the pain.

    The Stormtroopers that had been searching for Draconis returned - and Kronos absently remembered he had planned to accompany them; again, distractions - and their results were negative.

    He'd worry about it later. At that moment, he needed to tend to his wound. An injury like that would get infected extremely easily. He needed treatment, and the Atonement shuttle was the only place that had potential.

    "All of you," he started, speaking with considerable effort and addressing the soldiers, "continue the search for Draconis and Serapis. I'll join you soon." He made a sharp gesture with his free hand and desperately tried to ignore the sharp pain in his lower jaw.

    He entered the shuttle and immediately searched for medical supplies.

    But something was amiss.

    Dark figures were apparent. Vaguely in both reality and within the Force. Turning around, he was Serapis. Draconis, somehow, had already taken charge of the shuttle.

    Under normal circumstances, he would have questioned this. But he had neither the time nor the patience to do so.

    He was just happy to have some good news.

    Turning on his comlink, he contacted Bellorum. Each word hurt his jaw, so he kept his update very brief. "Draconis and Serapis are aboard. Launching now." He gave her a small opportunity to reply if she felt so inclined.

    He continued to look for medical supplies as he awaited for the shuttle to launch.

    TAG: @Lady Belligerent @Darth_wanderguard @dragonsith13 @DarthIshyZ

    -----

    IC: Mallace

    Their tactic was successful. They had been able to clear enough space to land in the prison cruiser, and Saadi had not hesitated. They easily found their way into the hangar, and their ship comfortably sat near the edge. Away from any upcoming battle.

    Lightsaber in hand, she emerged from the shuttle and took in her surroundings. The hangar was spacious. As clean and prestine as one would expect an Imperial hangar to be. On the other side, soldiers of various types were waiting for them. The only variant Mallace was able to recognize was the Mandalorians. But that was only because of their powerful reputation. Even in her years of self-imposed exile, that name got around. The remaining variants were foreign to her. One squadron had a variant of a lightsaber.

    Saadi decided to take on the Mandalorians. She payed no attention to Coctytus, as he had been doing to her, and went after the squadron of soldiers with the lightsaber variant.

    Four men.

    Easy.

    This was all she had left. The thrill of battle. It was all that remained after what He did to her. Everything else felt... tainted.

    They all came at once.

    Stepping back and swinging her blade, she crept low and used a powerful kick to break through the ones armor of the first, breaking his leg in the process and resulting in a loud yell from the victim. As he collapsed to the ground, two of his friends attempted to flank her from either side with their weapons raised. Each aimed for a different part of her body - the neck and chest. Mallace, reacting quickly, used the crippled soldier's body to propel herself into a more advantageous position for assault. As the two narrowly missed their strikes, and Mallace absently noting the fourth attempting to slas at her from behind, she quickly stabbed the cripple - who had still been groaning - and cut down the other two unsuspecting lightsaber-variant-wielding opponents down before they could properly react. The fourth, meanwhile, now realizing his mistake, stepped back and reassessed the situation. Mallace faced him head on and instantly charged. The fourth slashed wildly in a desperate attempt to remain alive, but each attack was easily reflected by her. It was not long before she smacked the blade out of his hands and impaled him in the chest.

    Her heart rate had increased. Saadi had just finished taking on his Mandalorians, but more remained. They hadn't taken notice of her yet, and she used that to her advantage. Sprinting toward their destination, just as they were nearing Saadi, she made her move. She cut at the neck of one soldier. The others, now trapped between two dark-siders, took aim at their assailers, but it was all futile.

    They would be dead before they could count to ten.

    When the deed was finished, Mallace reassessed herself. She had felt absolutely nothing during those killings. Most Sith and dark-siders would have felt elated at the opportunity to eliminate their enemies, even those as weak as a few soldiers. But she didn't. Even as a little girl, back during her first kill, she hadn't felt anything. Even though her parents believed this to be a good thing, deep down - deep, deep down - she knew she should have.

    But, yet, there was a spark. Somewhere.

    She clenched her mother's lightsaber.

    The last ties to a past long since tainted due to her tragedy.

    The last ties to any semblance of an emotional connection to anyone or anything after Him.

    The last ties to her humanity.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth @Dagobahsystem @Darth Cocytus
     
  11. Darth Cocytus

    Darth Cocytus Jedi Knight star 3

    Registered:
    May 8, 2016
    Darth Cocytus: Prison Ship Battle

    The chaos of battle intensified around Cocytus as they got closer to their destination. He wasn't worried though, foreseeing that he would survive. It was the task given by Darth Insipid, however, that casted doubt in his mind. Whatever his master had planned, the kaminoan knew he’d have to find a way to counter any treachery that comes out of it. Cocytus never trusted anyone in his life, and knowing the full nature of the Sith, planned on never doing so. Anticipation was everything to the young Kaminoan.

    His focus put that aside, however, the moment they landed on the prison ship. With bitter cold hatred for his enemies flowing through him, Cocytus clutched his now ignited lightsaber. Moving steadily as he emerged from the shuttle, the Kaminoan swung his lightsaber in the defensive maneuvers of Soresu, returning all blaster fire to his foes. His yellow glowing eyes glared around as he did so, taking in the environment as quickly as possible. A wide open hanger with dozens of mandalorians, one of them with a lightsaber. Mallace went after the squadron with the lightsaber and Saadi charged after another group. All of this gave Cocytus the perfect opportunity to go his own way to fulfill his own agenda.

    Finding the opening he was waiting for Cocytus made his move toward his own squad of mandalorians. Igniting his second lightsaber, the kaminoan charged upon his enemy. With the swift and brutal movements of jar’kai, he cut down two foes with one blade and three with the other. They were beheaded and cut in half from the waist or shoulder. The remaining enemies came upon him, only to be frozen in ice with a raise of Cocytus’s hand. More mandalorians got into oath, only to be brutally pushed aside or cut down like the others. Simply to say, none stood a chance. Such was the power of the Dark Side in the hands of the Sith.

    Fools. thought Cocytus, smirking in intoxication from the pain and suffering he had caused, They know nothing of the power of the Dark Side in their puny minds and thus is why they fall.


    Walking into the halls, Cocytus only stopped in place upon meeting face to face with a true challenge. A female mandalorian, wielding twin purple lightsabers stood between him and victory. The Kaminoan’s candlelit eyes met and glared at the mandalorian and saw her for what she was: A fraud and a mere child playing with swords. The force was anything but with this mere girl. She knew nothing of what she was dealing with.

    Cocytus knew what to do and got into a defensive position. He could feel her anger and hatred for him and was determined to exploit it. With a mere profane gesture, Cocytus rided the mandalorian into charging towards him, as expected. Purple and red blades clashed together as the mandalorian fought with brutality while Cocytus moved with passively patient defences. The mandalorian was certainly trained, but wasn't good enough. She made swung for the Kaminoan’s neck, forcing him to back away, but giving him a perfect opening and opportunity to finish the fight. With a quick jab of his lightsaber to the mandalorian’s heart, the battle was over.

    With a thin smile, Cocytus walked over his fallen enemy and reached for his com. “I am on my way, Master.” he spoke calmly to Insipid, “Where is the nearest turbolaser so I can find it?”

    Tag: @Sinrebirth, @Dagobahsystem, @Darth Kronos



    Sent from my SM-J327V using Tapatalk
     
    Last edited: Jul 6, 2018
  12. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    GM UPDATE 1 OF 3

    IC: Darth Haretisch — The Intrepid

    “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... He means nothing to me. I would see him dead.”

    Darth Haretisch looked to the blood pooling on the floor beneath Ravenous, who was perched in the corner like a spider. He had helped himself to a random bridge technician, whose eyes were still blinking even now but whose last moments of agony were silent for his throat having been ripped out by the monster’s teeth. Flesh and bone snapped and stretched back into place, and in a moment the beast was whole again.

    With a thud, the now dead technician hit the floor, Ravenous following a moment later. The Lord Imperator would find the Wookiee, nay, the abomination, kneeling before him.

    “What is thy bidding.. My lord?”

    Haretisch laughed. It was not a revelrous cackle of victory, simply a chuckle, low in his throat, and a fanged grin. “How easily your allegiances shift, Wuulfwarg.” He turned up both hands, lifting them to shoulder height in a gesture of almost mocking welcome. “What would you have me do? Welcome a ravenous beast with open arms?”

    Haretisch turned, hands now clasped behind his back, and took a few easy, pondering steps.

    “Insipid’s cruelty is not why you turn. You see him losing the battle,” he gestured to the scene unfolding in the viewport. “And power is all you respect. Are you not Sith? Is power, is victory not the greatest judge? Of course you bow to me, now.”

    He paused. “Now. But what of my coming defeats? This war will be long yet. There are victories and failures to be had on both sides. Will you turn once again with the tide of the war? With the tide of a single battle, even?” Darth Haretisch shook his head. “You are an old breed. A Sith in the purest sense. And the old ways are dying, my friend.”

    With that, the Imperator turned, and every hair on the bridge would seem to stand on end as he reached out. The air grew cold and flat, as though the very life energy was drawn out of it and centered in his hand, and with a resounding clap he released it as one terrible bolt of twisting, chaotic electricity. It tore into Darth Ravenous’ chest and left a gaping hole in its wake. Even Haretisch himself exhaled sharply in annoyance when the blast was done, and tried in vain to shake the feeling back into his fingers. Ravenous was left softly convulsing against the buzzing aftershocks of the attack.

    Over the residual crackling of energy, the Imperator’s bootheels could be heard as he approached the Sithspawn. With his still tingling right hand, he snatched the creature’s neck to steady him, and brought his lightsaber hilt across to strike him across the head.

    “Go back to Insipid,” he began, then a second blow fell, and a third. “And tell him this is what waits for him.” And a fourth, and fifth. The blows would begin to blur together as the beating went on. At some point a pale blue blade came to life again, and went to work at carving the Wookiee’s stomach and extremities.

    Finally he let Ravenous collapse to the floor, face and body mangled. By hand he dragged the unconscious form to the airlock adjacent to the bridge, leaving a wet, sticky trail behind. Keying the console, Haretisch launched him still living into the vacuum of space, curious to see whether he could survive, and confident that Insipid would make a point to retrieve him either way.

    TAG: @WookieeRage

    ~

    IC: Antwon Ruusel — Nirauan Capital City, Empire Hotel

    “There are two mainstays in Nirauan, where political parties are concerned,” Ruusel explained from across the table. The evening meal was takeout from a local dive, and its remnants were strewn about the tabletop amongst datapads and notes scrawled on old fashioned paper. “The Reds are made up of the upper and lower classes and heavily identified with the Council. They don’t want us here. Small government, lower taxes, less intervention, that’s their selling point. It’s the rich that benefit but they’ve convinced the very poor that it’s good for them, too.”

    Ruusel paused, and pushed the container he had been eating from aside to make room for his datapad. With a touch of the screen he shared the content he was viewing with Aryan’s device. “Then there are the Greens. The middle class. They don’t like the council, or the Reds, mainly because it’s the middle class that pays most of the taxes the Reds-controlled government does levy on the populace. The Greens could be our leverage in getting the council to cave, but how?”

    TAG: @HanSolo29

    ______________________

    IC: Corporal Gareth of Hades’ Hellions —New Moraband, On the Ground

    Through a hail of blasterfire spitting both directions, Francium’s squad pushed toward the wall. Hades Hellions now stood in his way. Over the cacophony of battle, a voice boomed. Captain Finis.

    "We hold this spot! We do not waver! You are what stands between rule and anarchy. Be not afraid to die, for it is a reward to glory!"

    Corporal Gareth pounded his chest plate in unison with the rest of his squad.

    "TO HELL AND BACK! FOR HADES! FOR OUR EMPRESS! FOR GLORY!"

    The cry was met in kind by the Imperials, who charged fearlessly into the breach for their Imperator, their General, and for Francium. As the forces collided midway, quarters were too tight now for blasters. The holding of the breach would come down to hand-to-hand combat.

    Gareth drew his staff, and looked to see Finis at his side. And opposite them, Darth Francium with lightsaber blazing. He regretted then that he had but one life to give for the Hellions. Then he nodded to Finis and readied himself. “We die today, brother,” he spat, loudly enough for the Sith to hear. There was no fear. Only venom.

    TAG: @Quinlan Vos, @E. L.Knight
     
  13. Sinrebirth

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

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    GM Post 2 of 3

    IC: Darth Insipid

    Trials of Treachery, Battle of New Moraband

    The pieces moved forward. Darth Insipid felt a clinical mind appraise the battlefield from within the Citadel; Insipid could not detect who it was, but he felt he sentiment, and grinned.

    Two such pieces were here, taking their steps forward. Were Vexx and Hades both Queens on the chess board? Or was it Ike who was queen to Bellorum - a quirk of amusement to his mind - at which point Hades was mere Bishop? Had Insipid’s greatest piece - Ravenous as his Queen - succeeded in killing Haretisch?

    Of course not. Insipid loathed Queens in his games - he’d rather waste them on an elaborate feint so his other engagements would succeed - and he could always elevate a Pawn later... Cocytus, Mallace or Saadi, perhaps? He already had twinned Knights in the brilliant Anark and Kwea, though his Bishop, Hespar had made no impact on the battle... his missing Bishop, Kronos, even less. Soliloquy was more Pawn than anything else - a creature of his own means and motives... like Aryan would be... and what would Serapis and Draconis become on his field?

    He smiled genially at Hades as he quipped, taking a cautious step back from Vexx to ensure that they were placed in an equal triangle. A lie, of course. He flicked his comlink open. ‘Cocytus; fire on the Citadel, it’s defences should be compromised by now.’ A flick of the setting. ‘Shadow Two; get down here and strafe my fight, now; make a second pass and I’ll intercept.’

    His comlink blazed as Sloane chimed in. ‘T’tkura has escaped, and a rat has been caught in your trap, Supreme Leader. A name I do not recognise. However, your Wookiee monster is... well, sir, he’s extravehicular.’

    Insipid smirked, adding Kwea to the conversation with Grand Admiral Sloane. ‘Shadow One; follow the coordinates the Grand Admiral gives you - pick up Ravenous. Stuff him in your compartment or under your seat or whatever.’ Of course Ravenous was presently in the middle of a battle between four Star Destroyers; it would be some insane flying. However, at least she had local fighter superiority, as First Order fighters zipped around between the behemoths; uncoordinated perhaps but to hand.

    He promptly cut off the line as Insipid hardly had time for this.

    How did Insipid know that Ravenous would fail? Simple, really. Because Haretisch was a King.

    As was Darth Insipid.

    With that he fluttered a hand, seizing Hades with all of the strength at his possession, slamming him face-down in the dirt again and then tossing him at Vexx. He rushed the two of them - or, where he expected them to be. Vexx could strike Hades; but Insipid would take advantage; Hades could strike Vexx; but Insipid would take advantage.

    Checkmate?


    In orbit

    Insipid’s orders triggered a further movement of the engagement.

    But first a tip of a turbolaser bolt caught the shuttle of Darth Hespar at long last. It vanished, far too small to offer even a substantial defence to a full power capital ship blast; it was not even clear there the shot had originated from. The Imperium Destroyers, firing down at the Sun defenders; the Sun corvettes and frigates, spreading fire to fend off decimated First Order squadrons and almost shattered Imperium Interceptors. It may even have been a long range barrage from the Resurgent.

    The engagement was modulating, evolving, collapsing. But what it was doing was condensing into two spheres - the Destroyer tussle which the Resurgent was struggling to win, so close was its foes, and the battle rapidly drawing down beneath the prison cruiser, as the cruiser remained besieged but the Sun task force drew closer and closer to the Citadel for defence - a Citadel which suddenly had half its weapons to hand. Mostly ground emplacements, which seized pouring fire into Vexx’s army, but a few orbital weapons seized fire - recalibrating mid-battle thanks to Draconis.

    To be fair the upper part of the Citadel was chaos, with fire from the orbital and ground battles chewing into, with Kronos, Serapis and Draconis causing havoc with their games of moog-and-rancor. Ike was on his way to impose control on the situation but it was over - Draconis and Serapis and their ‘captive’ Kronos were en route to the prison cruiser. But the Citadel was still in incredible shape - with its full weapons, it could pick apart an Imperial Stat Destroyer - but with an army, four Destroyers, and a nimbus of fighters, and half its guns resetting for a handful of terrible minutes, it was unable to focus its devastating might.

    While the shuttle lifted, a soldier with winsome features - from what Kronos could see from her chin beneath the visor of her helmet - attended to his wound, numbing it with a bacta patch which would rip a few hairs out when removed.

    The Sun warships allowed the shuttle through to the prison cruiser - in-fact any deviation was clearly noted to be punctuated with guns - but when they reached the hangar bay it was already a full-blown fight.

    The dozen soldiers pouring out of Draconis’ shuttle, equipped to escort Serapis and Draconis originally, and thus in phrik armour, equipped with shatter guns and additional thrust armour, levelled their guns at Mallace and Saadi. In a short moment, the haze of order that Draconis has imposed would collapse.

    An officer emerged from the fire-marked security booth and pointed at the arriving shuttle. ‘Darth Draconis and Serapis remain prisoners of the Empress! Seize them anew! For the Twilight Sun!’ The Officer was followed by half a dozen mercenaries of Hapan origins - obvious from the fact that all the women were beautiful even from afar - and they opened fire with oversized blasters, designed to fire concentrated bolts wider than a lightsaber blade.

    Between the dozen soldiers Draconis had delivered that were even now turning around to rush back up the ramp, the half a dozen Hapans and the further half a dozen surviving soldiers from the initial assault - one Mandalorian, one Hellion commando that had managed to escape Mallace with a slight injury, and the four lightfoil wielding Mecrosa assassins - the four Sith had a tremendous battle to hand - Mallace, Draconis, Saadi and Serapis - and Darth Kronos was still an element, albeit a wounded one. If he could rally them, perhaps his soldiers could capture them all - he had the numbers. But being as he’d allowed Draconis to commandeer the shuttle, leaving more troopers behind which could have been used to contain Draconis and Serapis, whose side was he on?

    The nurse come soldier stood from Kronos, pulling a blaster. ‘Orders, sir?’ She was trembling. Clearly this was going to go badly for all involved.

    Cocytus was nowhere to be seen. The Mandalorian and Hellion regrouped to go for Saadi, following four Mecrosa assassins advancing behind their own fragile version of lightsabers. Not Force users, but a Mecrosa High Lord could handle a Jedi Knight. Thankfully these were all apprentices - all Bellorum could afford on short notice. As for Mallace, the officer directed the Hapan brawlers to focus on her. This allowed the twelve troopers from the shuttle to hunt Draconis and Serapis.

    Six foes for each Sith. The pilot promptly sealed off the cockpit and waited out the skirmish. One medic soldier and Kronos remaining unattached

    Death and decisions were pending.

    —-
    Cells, Resurgent

    T’tkura had fallen. Revelling in death? A line had been crossed. Radian, half a galaxy away, would feel it. So, too, would Draco, hiding in the criminal underbelly of the Unknown Regions.

    The doors to the prison block opened. A single figure glided through. A red armoured Sentinel droid. The face of the late Emperor Palpatine was evident. ‘Good,’ his silky voice spoke, barely impacted by the droid vocabulator. ‘It is good to see you have embraced your true nature. I have many tasks at hand for you, Lord T’tkura.’

    ‘Or,’ the droid held its hand up to the ceiling, a different shade of crimson to the black-red splattered across the room and hound’s mouth and hide.

    ‘Should I address you by a different name?’

    A pregnant pause.

    ‘Your true name?’

    Grand Admiral Sloane watched the bloody tableau from the safety of the Eclipse. That the Supreme Leader had deployed guards with suspect loyalties and terrible records did not lessen the butcher of them. He’d known this was going to happen. She eyed the other display - the self-contained hangar was still floating off, its occupant silent.

    Her hand was on the trigger, as much as it was on the pulse of this battle. The fulcrum was about to emerge.


    Zakuul swamps

    The swamp seemed to talk to them in tongues, but it was really nothing more than the gurgle of the rising viscous liquid, compressing into corners as it shifted and dropped, but with slowing pace. The AI chimed up into the gloom.

    ‘I have a signal. An energy signature I do not recognise.’

    Soliloquy would.

    Eternal technology. As old as the Rakata and Gree, when the two were at their height - just after the Kwa had been ended, and just before the Rakata turned on the Gree. The Killiks had been mostly emptied from Alderaan by now, and the Eternal Fleet, Mnngal-Mnngal and the Rhandites isolated in the modern Unknown Regions by a massive Hyperspace barrier carved across the galaxy before the Celestials allowed their realm to fall.

    Well, that’s what had happened in their own time.

    As they carefully followed the signal through rooms dripping with liquid from the ceiling, dribbling between the cracks of masonry and along the vines and entrails carved into the walls, a squad of Chiss in black were planted face down on the floor. Dead. But just as much as their skins were bloated from being submerged, they were missing pieces from their necks, as if a creature had taken a bite.

    But, they were shortly there.

    Or, here.

    It was as Mnngal-Mnngal had promised. A sarcophagus, and a portal shaped like a Holocron. But what was also evident, in the black, was a second sarcophagus, to the opposing side, with another slot. The AI extended their sensors.

    ‘I cannot breach the shell.’ Detail flowed. ‘The right hand one seems to be connected to,’ it moved their hand. ‘That.’ Behind a transparisteel view was a bulbous container. ‘Which sensors suggest is full with some kind of living matter, held in stasis. Curious.’

    It dropped their knees to peer beneath. ‘Ah. The left hand one was where the right is now, but has been moved onwards.’ A step forward. Displays lit up. ‘It has been held in stasis of its own... if I can understand this text.’ It has rummaged in Soliloquy’s part of their mind. ‘For 3,636 years.’

    ‘But the other one is probably empty, analysis suggests.’

    In A Dark Dark Place
    How Dark?

    Dark.

    Cold.

    Metal.

    Silence.

    Terrible, complete, and utter silence.

    Also, it’s important to note, were ones eyes to flutter open and sense return to your body in this dark place, you’d realise that you were in a box. A metal box. Or, rather, a drawer.

    Whilst naked.

    Actually, that was not strictly speaking true.

    There was a tiny bit of string tied around a toe, and attached to that, a label. However, it would be quite difficult to reach down and check said label, what with the confines being what they were.

    Those would be the first impressions of Body 5231. It had a name, of course, but names were for the living, and, presumably, if one was in this place, one was no longer among the living. One had to leave this place, to reclaim oneself. Unless, of course, one wished to die.

    Because, of course. He was here. In the morgue of the Luxury Elite. It was graveyard shift; the room of bodies was empty, and nobody would be here during a battle, when the medics were focused on those that were about to die, and not those within the definition of dead.

    One could remain within that definition; it could just return to the paralysis that crippled them in the middle of the Battle of the Luxury Elite, that had saw them collapse in the arena, to be buried beneath the debris of the brawl between Hades and Insipid. Such was his collapse - for one could address it as having a gender when it had been on the edge of life - that the medics had been unable to rile him, and any Sith who had cast a cursory glance over his form assumed death, so deep within his body had his consciousness withdrawn out of shock.

    He had even had a name.

    A Tusken name.

    Perhaps it was time to reclaim it?

    TAG: @KamNale (outstanding tag), @ConservativeJedi321 (outstanding tag but also added to it), @Darth Kronos (twice), @DarthCocytus, @Snokers, @dragonsith13, @DarthIshyZ, @Halle Dray, @Dagobahsystem, @E. L.Knight, @Mitth-Fisto, @Kaleesh-Cyborg. @Mostlymad


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
     
  14. Lady Belligerent

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

    Registered:
    Jan 29, 2008
    GM UPDATE 3 OF 3

    IC: Cal Jepsun — The Arae

    Cal’s forehead furrowed at his new assistant. Sighing, he handed her a stack of slides, “here, put these over there on my desk.”

    He bent over a microscope and peered at a specimen while he continued to instruct her, “its required that you give blood, tissue, and uh...a urine sample. You’ll find everything in the cabinets over there. I’ll need to do a biopsy for the tissue, but first thing’s first, draw some blood and pee in the cup.” He absently pointed to the medical supplies cupboards. It would come off better if he didn’t make a big deal out of things, and he worried he was moving a little too fast already, but this girl seemed slightly... spacey? No, there was a better word.

    TAG: @Nehru_Amidala

    ———

    IC: Hel — The Arae

    Hel stepped into Syren’s quarters and felt that the woman was unsure of her. She’d declined the offer of a beverage with a monotone, “no, thanks,” and she stood quietly watching as the woman appeared to be gathering her gear. Hel had a small knapsack slung over her shoulder containing a few items her father had suggested.

    Shifting her weight she spoke up, “is it just the two of us? What’s the mission?”

    TAG: @QueenSabe7

    ———-

    IC: Darth Bellorum — New Moraband

    They were destroying her bloody Citadel, and her troops were letting it happen.

    Bellorum quickly strode across the hangar ignoring those in combat around her. She had a powerful shield up as she stopped at a terminal and typed in an administrative command. She’d placed her palm on a pad next to the keyboard to identify herself, and the display lit up with swiftly scrolling details on the defenses of the facility.

    She scanned the information and quickly came to a decision on what needed to be done.

    Once she’d logged out of the terminal, she took a side passage to her quarters. It wasn’t the most direct route, but she wanted to avoid any contact.

    Her assumption proved true as the corridors were mostly empty, and the few beings she did pass where quick to dart away. The entrance to her suite was secure and the Empress visibly relaxed a little once she confirmed everything was in order and no one had breached her chambers.

    After sealing the door behind her, she went to a corner section of the wall of her refresher. Using the Force, she triggered a series of tumblers and a seam appeared on that section of the corner. The seams opened and the corner pivoted to reveal narrow shelves. Bellorum reached in and pulled out a heavy elongated item that was enclosed in black velvet. The Empress stroked the fabric and felt the energy that seeped from the precious artifact. She shivered from the effect of just having it in her hands.

    She slid the item inside her cloak and went about emptying the rest of her safe.

    —————

    ~New Moraband, Deward’s Palace

    Leda had done a stellar job of piloting the claptrap shuttle to the surface. The moment the landing struts touched down the mossy growth underneath them shimmered in reaction. Within seconds it had grown to cover the struts and was hungrily devouring anything that it could touch.

    If any of the team had done their research they would have noted that the moss had become more voracious since the last contact the Sith had with it. Would they get the speeder bikes off quickly before they became a meal for the green menace?

    Alana stepped down to the surface holding a staff. While she appeared distracted in silent communication the moss had creeped up a section of the staff and had covered her boots.

    The mossy growth had approached Astara, but seemed put off by something and drew back.

    TAG: @WookieeRage, @SkywalkerShine, @QueenSabe7
     
  15. Halle Dray

    Halle Dray Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jan 6, 2016
    IC: Kwea Acantha
    Space Battle

    "Shadow One; follow the coordinates the Grand Admiral gives you - pick up Ravenous. Stuff him in your compartment or under your seat or whatever," said Darth Insipid through a new comm line. With a quick glance, Kwea saw this channel also had Sloane tapped in.

    With a crackle, Insipid's line cut off and Kwea gave a short, pert sigh. Sure thing, she thought as she discarded her plans of firing upon the Destroyer.

    "First Shadow Squadron, I need you to cover me. I'll give you the coordinates to where I'm going. Stay back and only cover me. Do not assist me in my collection," Kwea cut the comm and continued to mutter, "Collection-ing? Thing?"

    "Second Shadow, I'm not going up to that Destroyer. Plans have changed," she alerted Anark, not giving many details.

    Toggling her fighter into gear again from it's current state of simply floating, Kwea turned the TIE about and headed towards the coordinates.

    She reached out lightly into the Force and searched for Ravenous. She knew he wasn't the Wookiee she had sat next to at the banquet. He was a frightening creature now, covered in tentacles and greenish skin. There were supposedly grotesque spikes that lined his jowls and back. How Kwea would get that beast into her TIE fighter, she didn't know.

    A Force Pull? And something to make sure he was knocked out and wouldn't hurt her.

    Cross that bridge when you come to it, she reminded herself.

    The muscles in her forearms and biceps flexed as she navigated herself around cannon blasts, firing as she went. Nothing fancy, just anything to keep her from being a fried circuit.

    She hoped that soon she'd see him.. or rather it..
    Tags @WookieeRage @Sinrebirth @Snokers
     
  16. Quinlan Vos

    Quinlan Vos Jedi Padawan star 1

    Registered:
    Oct 24, 2017
    IC: Darth Francium

    As the young Sith surveyed his troops as they pushed into the wall, he noticed two men push forward and stand before him, side by side. They were quite obviously officers of Hades’ group, and showed no fear whatsoever. He respected that of the men, but they stood in his way, and that wouldn’t do.

    He overheard one of the men speaking to his companion, saying it just above the sound of battle so that he was sure to hear it. “We die today, Brother”.

    Francium chuckled, an evil and stomach-churning laugh. “That you will”, he responded, in a tone of pure mockery and fearlessness. He extended his saber to its full dual phase length, and grabbed his shoto saber off of his left hip. Then he began walking forward, drawing the force around himself, and dragging his longer saber on the ground behind him, leaving a long, burning line in the dirt behind him. And on his face, an evil, twisted grin, one that his opponents would not soon forget if they managed to survive his punishment....

    Tags: @Darth_wanderguard @E. L.Knight
     
  17. E. L.Knight

    E. L.Knight Jedi Master star 3

    Registered:
    Dec 4, 2012
    Darth Hades
    Defending the Citadel

    Hades had not been prepared to slammed into the dirt then thrown at Vexx. He embraced the pain however, and as he flew towards Vexx he quickly twisted his body and landed, not so agilely to the side.

    Hades made the decision to not attack Vexx, no, his attention was on Insipid. Hate was too tame a word for what Hades felt. As he skidded to a halt he looked at the injured cyborg.

    "We can kill one another, or we can join together and end Insipid once and for all. Help me kill."

    This was a gamble, one that Hades needed to have succeed. He was stronger then the last time he'd faced the former Emperor, but he wasn't prepared to take him on again, not truly. He had things he wanted in place before this confrontation was to take place, but now, he would have to deal with the situation as best he could.

    Hades drew his two sabers and connected them into a staff. He ignited the blades and put them up in a guarded stance. He might now be able to use the Force like Insipid, but with a lightsaber, Hades could take him apart piece by piece.
    TAG: @Sinrebirth, @Kaleesh-Cyborg

    Captain Finis
    Defending the Breach

    Finis turned to his comrade and brother in arms.

    "I'll see you in Hell then."

    Finis released the blade on his left arm, it swung out and locked into place. He then grabbed his combat knife and fell into a combat stance.

    "I will not yield. None of us will. Do your worst."

    Finis then wasted no time rushing at the Sith, stabbing towards his shoulder with the blade on his left arm and aiming for the Sith's left thigh with his knife.
    TAG: @Darth_wanderguard, @Quinlan Vos
     
  18. Mostlymad

    Mostlymad Jedi Knight star 3

    Registered:
    May 12, 2017
    IC: Body 5231
    The Morgue aboard the Luxury Elite


    The frigid air within the confines of the pitch black metal box stirred as a groan escaped from the dry cracked lips of Body 5231. The feeling of pins and needles assaulted the senses of his body were dulled, slightly, by the numbness caused by his naked flesh resting against the cool slab upon which he laid.


    “Where the kriff...?” he hoarsely began to say.


    *Clang!*


    A comically loud bang echoed throughout the empty morgue followed by a string of Tusken curses as Body 5231 quickly discovered just how cramped his situation was. Another groan escaped his lips as his vain attempt to sit up sent a different shock-wave of pain through his body. Despite it being pitch black he began seeing stars. That’s when bleak realization settled in... he was in a box. The walls were close... too close. The darkness truly enveloped him then with its cold embrace and he tried to cringe away from its icy touch. It instead drew him in tighter with every panicked movement. Everything and nothing was folding into him, constricting his lungs until he was gasping with dizziness and the sudden overwhelming urge to vomit. With his head in his hands he attempted to tear into his skull with hysteria and flashes from the past six months flooded into his mind as he fell further and further into the abyss. The Luxury Elite. The Arena. An explosion sending him catapulting away into the wall. Flashes of a battle between Hades and Insipid before the stands above collapsed, crushing him. The feeling of drowning as he was submerged in a bacta tank. The sound of a steady beep as tubes were violently removed from his body. Finally he watched in an out-of body state as his corpse was put into the morgue drawer.


    Dread sunk in and Body 5231 began to thrash and shout until blood runs from his hands as his fingernails peel off from scratching fruitlessly against the bare metal. Panic overrides any sensation of pain until he is too exhausted to move while short choppy breaths breathe in the smell of his own demise. Despair was replaced with rage and it began to boil. As his emotions roiled the claustrophobic fear struggled to take over once again but the young Sith managed to calm himself. He slipped into a meditative state, opening himself to the Force as he had never done before. Instead of commanding the Force like he usually would he let it guide him. The Force showed him incoherent flashes of a seemingly endless amounts of futures. Inexperienced, Body 5231 tried grasping at them but it was as useless as trying to hold all of the desert’s sand within a spread out hand.


    However one flash managed to stick, showing him manipulating a passing orderly to release him from this infernal cage. Gasping, he dropped from his Force vision. Taking a moment to gather himself he reached out with the Force and found his target. A blonde human orderly soon entered the morgue to retrieve a gurney when his mind was affected. An overwhelming curiosity to open the morgue drawers overcame him. With unnatural zealousness the doors began to open and when Body 5231’s was cracked he pushed himself out with his feet. The full force of the morgue drawer’s door hit the orderly in the face and he crumbled to the ground in a bloody mess.


    The naked Tusken tried to roll gracefully off the slab but six months of muscle atrophy slapped that reality away. Instead he tumbled unceremoniously to the ground with a painful grunt followed by panicked wheezing as he tried to catch his breath. Unfiltered air eventually made it to his lungs and he managed to drag himself to a knee. He took in his surroundings but eventually his nakedness brought his cold eyes back upon the orderly upon the ground. Luckily the blood pouring from his broken nose slid towards the drain in the middle of the morgue and not back onto his clothes. Once the orderly was relieved of his clothes and credentials the Tusken grinned wickedly as his eyes were drawn towards the morgue drawers he came from. He tied and gagged the orderly before stuffing him in a lower drawer, but before he closed it he was sure to place his “Body 5231 tag” upon the orderly’s toe.


    A quick search of the morgue room failed to produce his clothing, or his weapons. A minor setback, he thought before staggering again from the pain and atrophy. Right now I need a shower, some food, and a better disguise. Accessing an information terminal he was able to locate the young orderly’s quarters. Grabbing the gurney, more for support than anything, Rook made his way there in search of food and information. He just hoped that the orderly was single.


    His luck held and the quarters were indeed empty. Snacking and sipping liquids lightly, the Tusken made liberal use of the shower to wash his nasty body. A cursory glance out the tiny viewport while drying off revealed that he was in orbit above New Moraband. What he didn't expect to see was a pitched battle over it. "How long have I been out?" he wondered aloud to no one. Accessing the room's terminal he got the information he was looking for plus a whole lot more. The good news was that his ship the Kterskt was still on board in the hanger bay. And after reading the orderly's personal correspondence he learned which Morgue braggart had claimed his gear. He planned to make that one suffer the wrath of the undead... and soon. The bad news was he wasn't sure if his brother had made it out alive. There was nothing in the morgue records about an abnormally large Tusken so he had to assume that he was still out there, somewhere. The ugly news was that the battle raging outside was and internal one to the Sith and he didn't know where his allegiance stood in that. For now it would be with whomever would benefit him in his quest for more power.


    But to get on the right path to that power he needed weapons... particularly HIS weapon. Dressing in the darkest clothes he could find he wrapped his head so that only a slit was open for his eyes. Leaving the quarters behind he shuffled towards the quarters of Dr. Lena Helspith, Lead Mortician and Director of all ghastly operations dealing with the dead.


    A light knock came from the door to her rather expansive quarters. Sighing, Dr. Helspith put down the terminal pad she was using to review the day’s logs. Standing, she adjusted her robe and pulled back her raven black hair before she went to get the door. The door hissed as she released the lock, “Yeah? What do you...” a lump caught in her throat as the creature in front of her pulled down his head cover. No! A cold chill ran the length of her spine as her dead Tusken revealed himself. She went to scream but the good doctor instead found she couldn’t breath and clinched at her throat, the pressure there building with unnatural intensity.


    “Shhh...” the Tusken rasped as he entered her living space and closed the door behind him. “I believe you have some of my... things. Now be a good girl and fetch them for me.” Gasping fruitlessly for air the Tusken did something wicked with his mouth which she could only assume was a smile. “Quickly now, get them for me while you still have the oxygen to do so and I might let you have another breath.”


    Scrambling over furniture, Dr. Helspith made a beeline for her bedroom while her tormentor followed nonchalantly behind her. Once through the bedroom door she knocked aside a picture on the wall to reveal a biosensor upon which she placed her hand. Pleadingly she pantomimed her need to speak a password. Tilting his head at her Darth Valdimar pretended he didn’t understand until she turned a particular shade of blue he appreciated. Releasing her throat she coughed and wheezed for air before speaking the password. A tall locker sized compartment was revealed and inside was all of the Tusken’s gear.


    “Since you put me in that infernal box and stole my personal effects you’re going to make amends by doing a few things for me. You may start by collecting my things.” he ordered. While she gathered his things he continued, “Now then... you’re going to dress me while catching me up on everything I’ve missed in the last six months to include how I ended up in the morgue. Then, you’re going to arrange a meeting with whomever has taken command of this ship. Finally, if you attempt to challenge my authority or betray me in any way I will crush your insides before stuffing you in a very unnatural position inside that locker.”

    Tag: @Lady Belligerent
     
    Last edited: Jul 9, 2018
  19. Kaleesh-Cyborg

    Kaleesh-Cyborg Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jan 4, 2017
    General Grievance Vexx
    Ground Assault, Facing Insipid


    With his troops leaving him so they can flood the breach, Grievance Vexx stands alone, a whirlwind of strobing red and white light that remains untouchable to the average enemy trooper. Those who dare get close enough are swiftly cut down or fall back in abrupt retreat as suddenly taking out the Kaleesh general seems to be more trouble than it’s worth. Shots fired are useless as the blades spinning at such high velocity scatter blaster bolts back on those who fire them. All the while, cold reptilian eyes remain fixed undistracted on Insipid.

    He could charge blindly at the god-emperor and make this quick, but anyone who gets into a fight with Vexx will quickly learn that he is a deep well of patience on the battlefield. He will watch and wait and observe, learning more about his opponents with every move they make until they are forced to strike first. Several qualities are being analyzed by the organic mind inside the droid-like exoskeleton; combat style, offensive versus defensive maneuvering, impulsive or calculating which tells him whether his opponent truly thinks about every move or only lives in the moment. Those who do the latter are destined to have very short moments if they intend to take him on and this is usually the way most apprentices have approached him in combat. Most annoying to the cyborg warrior.

    Regarding Insipid, Vexx already knows that this man has not risen to his power nor lived this long by existing only in the moment. He is as calculating as they come, using others as pawns to take the fall as he has climbed the ladder of sithly success. With this being the case, the cyborg knows he is in for a battle of cunning intellect as much as he is in for one of brute strength and power. Insipid only confirms this when he uses the Force to fling Darth Hades at him. Most annoying to the cyborg general.

    As he continues to spin his deadly weapons and Hades is flying straight toward him, a fleeting humorous thought flits through his mind:
    This is when the Sith hits the fan. He chuckles inwardly at his own mental play on words and while to let this happen would effectively get Hades out of his way, Vexx cannot deviate from his honor code. The Zabrak is a fellow warrior, reputable throughout the Empire. He will not dishonor him with such a swift and humiliating end. Thus, he ceases the deadly spin and anchors himself for impact. Or not.

    Hades manages to stop himself short of a nasty collision of flesh and metal and Vexx is intrigued by the other warrior requesting his assistance in defeating Insipid. While the warrior at his core is starving for this type of camaraderie, he has learned well that no Sith—from master to apprentice; from warrior to assassin to inquisitor—is to be trusted. He must behave as though they will all turn on him because reality is such that they will and in order to prolong his own life, he must avoid conditions that are favorable to betrayal. He does not trust Hades; not as far as he could throw him without the Force. He knows the other warrior’s request is potentially laced with treachery, for if they succeed in defeating the god-emperor together, he is certain Hades’ blade will turn on him. It is simply the way of the Sith; a way that he secretly hates, but he does not fault Hades for it. He will oblige with the full expectation that the Zabrak Sith Lord will turn on him as soon as victory is secured.


    “A shift in priorities then,” he replies with brutal honesty, exposing all intentions for no other reason than to make Hades aware that his trust is nonexistent, “We deal with the greater threat to both sides and then we deal with each other. Let us hope the god-emperor fails to maim us beyond good fighting condition.”

    As Insipid rushes forward to cut them down, Vexx continues to hold his ground; waiting, watching. He still hasn’t learned much about the god-emperor’s skill and he is in no hurry to engage him despite his hungry anticipation for this fight. He will savor every drop of this confrontation. His analytical mind recognizes intimidation tactics—simple, yet often effective—as Insipid charges straight for them like an enraged reek. A less courageous—and perceivably more intelligent—creature might have turned and run by now, but Vexx remains anchored where he stands, focused on Insipid, but keeping Hades in his peripheral sight. There is no trust here; only calm resolve to do what must be done while forever being braced for the next turn of events.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth @E. L.Knight
     
  20. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Soliloquy
    The Resplendent Temple of Ooze

    Stepping once more through the reliefs, stepping for the first time into the hallowed and rarely visited halls. It listened to the babble, the rabble, the gurgle of these living swamps as they faded slightly, lightly into the dithering wilds of Zakuul ne' New Moraband. Ne' something else more ancient, something hallowed or cursed in the reliefs of Abeloth. These of course were not the true sacred words of a living swamp, nor intelligent gurgle of Mnngal-Mnngal. It was merely the glorious rise of gases squeezed from the living below that gurgled high, or the death gurgle of putrid flesh slowly dissolving consumed into the fabric of the living gurgle of the swamp. Apart of yet apart from it. Every pop a story, every noise a tale of life, of death, of beauty.

    The AI chimed up into the beauty, subduing it with the harsh tones of a long dead Emperor. A voice that seemed to challenge the swamp ‘I have a signal. An energy signature I do not recognize.’

    Soliloquy did. It was the sign of powers that were, that had been. As old as or older than the Rakata and Gree, when the two were at their height - just after the Kwa had been ended, and just before the Rakata turned on the Gree. The Killiks had been mostly emptied from Alderaan by now, and the Eternal Fleet, Mnngal-Mnngal and the Rhandites isolated in the modern Unknown Regions by a massive Hyperspace barrier carved across the galaxy before the Celestials allowed their realm to fall. Only four in that list deserved any respect and concerns.

    Well, that’s what had happened in their own time and from signs and portents there was signs some things were similar, but not the same. The stars were similar but they did not align.

    As they carefully followed the signal, the truth of it unmarred with words or sharing, not dared to discredit these sacred tiles slick with the ooze of the swamp with any utterance. Through rooms dripping with putrid puerile liquid from the ceiling, dribbling slipping seething between the cracks of masonry and along the vines and entrails of the blessed and the damned alike carved into these ancient walls. The only sign of these passages being defiled were by a squad of Chiss in black who were planted face down on the floor. Dead. But just as much as their skins were bloated from being submerged and the biome that once kept them alive fighting for their own lives after the hosts death, they were missing pieces from their necks, as if a creature had taken a bite. To take or merely to leave something behind. Was it something that was in the submerging? Or something before it that had left that mark? Was it still here? Something that was a danger to the biologicals exposed but not to them. The dead and the living-challenged safe, but would it last? Was it true or merely what had been. There was nothing to fade, trade or bargain for. Merely the task to wait, to see, to know.

    But, they were shortly there. Or, here. Or then again. For it was as Mnngal-Mnngal had promised. A sarcophagus, and a portal shaped like a Holocron. But what was also evident, in the black, was a second sarcophagus, to the opposing side, with another slot. The AI extended their sensors. The stars were similar, bu they did not align.

    ‘I cannot breach the shell.’ Detail flowed in those words that challenged the swamp outside. ‘The right hand one seems to be connected to,’ it moved their hand. ‘That.’ Behind a transparisteel view was a bulbous container. ‘Which sensors suggest is full with some kind of living matter, held in stasis. Curious.’

    It dropped their knees to peer beneath. ‘Ah. The left hand one was where the right is now, but has been moved onwards.’ A step forward. Displays lit up. ‘It has been held in stasis of its own... if I can understand this text.’ It has rummaged in Soliloquy’s part of their mind and Soliloquy let the crystals share what they knew of the ancient words meanings, keeping the gap between the heart and the minds. ‘For 3,636 years.’

    ‘But the other one is probably empty, analysis suggests.’ Droids. Limits always present that prevent the truly radical thinking of most sentient and powerful life.

    "Plug us into that one first. The tale of Vitiates time is one to know before we try the other. Before we see if more than one form can be blessed or even desired. To the empty before the full." They doubted it was truly empty. For truly if you cannot see you cannot know. There was a story of a Sith long ago they knew who had held a Cathar in a box with poison and food. The box was clean against the probing of the Force or of technology. And until that box was opened, the Cathar was alive and dead at once. Whole and separate. It was all, and all was nothing.

    It was time to peek in that box before opening another.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
     
  21. WookieeRage

    WookieeRage Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Feb 3, 2016
    IC: Darth Ravenous
    Floating in between the factions...

    The lightning was not the worst part... No it was not. The worst part was the sadism that followed... dismemberment of his body. The Sith-Spawn felt it all. Instead of resisting the pain, he embraced it. A Darkness not felt since he had devoured his former Jedi Master surged through his body... He reveled in it..

    The vacuum of space engorged Ravenous. He briefly saw the Imperator through the viewpoint before being sucked out into the void.

    The lights from the lasers passing illuminated the beast rhythmically as he grasped at his mangled bowels and suffocated, drifting further into the calamity. TIE fighters began buzzing close to him before he lost his vision. His eyes shut..

    Most of the limbs of Ravenous had been severed by Darth Haretisch. The beast however still possessed an arm and all four tenticles. He gave himself to the force and focused on the pain he felt before lashing out with a tenticle at a passing TIE fighter who was slowing his speed to turn. The tenticle pierced the wing of the fighter and Ravenous gripped on tight with his only remaining arm. He inched his way closer to the viewpoint and dropped himself down upon it. His muscles began to slow but he focused his remaining will to shatter the viewport. The stormtrooper pilot was in a closed breathing apparatus and pulled his blaster on the beast. Not before he sunk his fangs into the poor fool. Ravenous ripped the pilot from the seat and tossed him into the void.

    His mangled body began to slowly regenerate but he needed more tasty flesh if he wanted to live... Did he want to live?.. Yes... To kill Haretisch once and for all. This is all he would ever think about until he did one of them died. It wasn't here... And it wasn't now. Not like this.

    He found the oxygen tube pissing it's precious contents into the void. The Sith-Spawn utilized the tube before venturing back into the void. A TIE fighter with a First Order insignia strafed the husk he had harvested with two direct shots from its forward cannons. The blast blew him outward further into the maw; It must've been a 'Fist' fighter. Ravenous once again felt the metallic ship returning to finish him off. He felt his body grow as the tissue regenerated. The Beast stretched his now-regenerating little arm and tickled the pilot's mind.

    You will stop your fighter next to me, open the door and present yourself to me..

    The pilot pulled directly next to the beast. Ravenous saw the man pull his oxygen tube out and stand up before pressing the exit door button. He was vented into space, not before Ravenous hooked and pulled him into the TIE fighter. Blood droplets could be seen bouncing off the viewpoint.

    He pressurized the cabin and put the oxygen tube into his rancid mouth and opened his eyes once again before jamming the throttle forward. He would be the wild card in this fight. Queens reign and pawns fall. No piece in Insipid's stupid chess game would embody what he was.

    A survivor.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth @Darth_wanderguard @rest of first order.
     
  22. Dagobahsystem

    Dagobahsystem Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 25, 2015
    IC: Saadi
    Prison Ship Battle

    Blocking out the pain in his wounded shoulder was relatively easy as Saadi noted four Mecrosa assassins approaching him, lightsabers drawn. The changeling heaved a light explosive in their direction, causing a distraction and knocking one of them to the ground, stunned.

    Saadi engaged the other three in a ferocious duel; forcing him to leap and flip like he had never done before to evade their furious strikes. Landing near the still recovering Mecrosa, Saadi plunged his blade through the assassins' chest; lurching forward as he pulled it free to block another attack. Sensing an ambush, Saadi ducked to the ground just as a Mecrosa impaled one of his own with a blade meant for the changeling.
    From a crouched position, Saadi removed both of the fighters' legs from the shin on down, the Mecrosa screaming in pain as his mangled body crumpled in a heap.

    At that moment, Saadi felt a horrible pain in his back, as the now returned Mandalorian had stabbed him with some type of metal blade. With a scream of rage, Saadi turned, drawing his blaster while writhing in pain, and lit the Mandalorian's face on fire with three perfectly aimed shots to the head.

    Wincing as he stood up, Saadi engaged the Hellion who had arrived to join in on the slaughter. The Clawdite blocked a few shots with his lightsaber and rushed towards the Hellion. His back roared with pain; using his right handed grip, Saadi slashed violently at the creature's hands and arms, shredding them to various pieces.

    Saadi noted the chaos engulfing the entire hangar; as he briefly wondered how Mallace and Cocytus were faring. As the last of four Mecrosa approached him, waving his primitive lightsaber, Saadi merely stared at him as he crushed his throat using the Force. The changeling tried to ignore the burning pain from the blade wound in his back as he scanned the area for more threats.

    Tags: @Sinrebirth @Darth Kronos @Darth Cocytus
     
    Last edited: Jul 11, 2018 at 3:02 PM
  23. Snokers

    Snokers Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jul 8, 2015
    IC: Darth Anark
    A Knights Arrival Onto The Checkered Board...


    Insipid’s
    drawl came first… ‘Shadow Two; get down here and strafe my fight, now; make a second pass and I’ll intercept.

    Then Kwea’s sweet song… ‘Second Shadow, I'm not going up to that Destroyer. Plans have changed.

    Anark’s face was stern. “Yes, friends,” he muttered after both comm transmissions had been cut. He redirected the TIE until New Moraband was in the centre of the viewport. “Everybody ready?” he shouted with great enthusiasm to the otherwise empty cockpit. He flipped a switch above his head, “dum,” he flipped another, “dee,” he flipped another, “da,” he smashed a gloved index finger against three buttons on the navigation console in quick succession, “doom… doom… doom!!” He grasped the flight controls firmly with both hands and slammed it forward. The TIE shot forth, screaming and rattling. The planet grew and grew until he pierced the atmosphere.

    It didn’t take long to find the Supreme Leader. Anark snorted and opened fire around the trio of combatants on the ground. He levelled a blast dangerously close to his former master, causing chunks of dusty ground to explode and rain down upon him. He simply couldn’t resist. He forced himself to focus once more as his TIE shrieked past. He climbed altitude above and over the citadel - assessing the damage as he went - turned swiftly and headed back for the second pass. He fired a few more bolts, and, almost nonchalantly, disengaged the lock on the ship’s overhead entrance and climbed out like a fleeing sewer rat, drawing upon the Force to steady himself against the momentum as he drew himself up to stand. His eyes were fixed on the patch of battleground the Imperium General and Darth Hades, arms outstretched and legs apart for extra balance. He leapt from the speeding TIE. The wind battered against his ears and rushed through his already dishevelled hair. Butterflies fluttered around the walls of his stomach. He hit the ground less graciously than he’d intended, staggering slightly from the force against his knees. The TIE could still be heard soaring toward the ground, seconds away from crushing some unfortunate swine.

    Darth Anark wasted no time. He was a little further away from Insipid’s engagement than he’d intended to be. An arm shot out of his robes. A lightsabre hilt shot into his palm. The red blade burst to life with a crackle and a hiss. The first blaster bolt was caught on it within seconds, deflected back with malice at its Imperium scum owner. He heard his abandoned ship explode somewhere in the distance.

    It had been a long while since the Sith Inquisitor’s weapon had seen action. He gripped it in both hands, caressing the hilts engravings with his thumb, and readied himself for the fireworks.




    ----


    IC: Bo Etraa
    In trouble...


    His wounds were beginning to sicken him. His garments were dusty and torn. His hair was loosened and a tad singed.

    Bo hoisted himself up off the ground with great difficulty. He holstered his blaster and retrieved his staff, giving his dead opponent's abdomen a hateful kick as he passed it, the place where the head had been nothing but a bloody, brainy mess. He could only manage a fast walk, and even then he travelled with quite a severe limp.

    The elevator to the war room wasn't too far. If he could make it in one piece through the outer layer of the battle; stray blaster shots and soldiers willing to die for their cause, a sentiment he'd never managed to quite understand, he could get himself bacta'd to the brim and continue behind the curtain where he felt best placed.

    He opened a comm channel to Bellorum, praying she'd accomodate him.

    "My Empress, I've taken a nasty hit. No spiders this time," he fake-laughed, "but I'm afraid I'm not going to be of much use on the ground." He continued hobbling towards the citadel, panting and groaning with each step. "Where do you want me?"



     
    Last edited: Jul 11, 2018 at 3:48 PM
  24. Darth Cocytus

    Darth Cocytus Jedi Knight star 3

    Registered:
    May 8, 2016
    Darth Cocytus


    Cocytus was most disappointed when Insipid didn't mention where the turbolaser was. However, he merely nodded and acknowledged the Supreme Leader’s orders. “Yes, my master.” spoke the Sith Inquisitor softly, knowing that he would have to find the laser himself, “It shall be done as you command.”


    Luckily, for Cocytus, a turbolaser wasn't that far away from what he was. In the one of the rooms down his hallway, he found exactly what the kaminoan was looking for. Killing it’s occupant, Cocytus got himself stationed in his turbolaser. Having operated one before, getting it all ready was child’s play. The kaminoan aimed the laser towards the Citadel with the chaos burning in his vision. For a moment, his long thin fingers stroked the trigger gently before, with a smirk on his face and a flare of hatred in his eyes, fired upon the Citadel.


    “Long live the Sith.” Cocytus whispered softly as he watched the result of his work, taking out his Com, "It is done, my Master."


    Tag: @Sinrebirth,



    Sent from my SM-J327V using Tapatalk
     
  25. Nehru_Amidala

    Nehru_Amidala Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Oct 3, 2016
    Tag: @Darth_wanderguard , @Lady Belligerent

    IC: Darth Hekate,
    The Arae, Nirauan

    There was an awkward silence in between when Anya placed everything down on Cal's desk and got the supplies she needed to provide samples for him. She was rather indignant. "What do you take me for, a simpleton? If you will just wait a minute, I will more than happy to get the samples prepared," she snapped as she flounced away. The very nerve!

    She was still fuming in the privacy of the newly cleaned laboratory as she rolled up the sleeve on her left arm (she was right handed) and drew the necessary amount. As she did so, she calmed down enough to admit that as long as was she was an apprentice, she would have to cool her temper and just get her training completed.

    She returned, and thrust the vials into his hand unceremoniously.