Star Wars New Sith Trials I *Voted Best RPG Summer 2016*

IC: Kwea Acantha

Kwea's deep sleep turned into a reliving of her past.

Lorelei climbed the final step that led to the platform. She had been training that morning and spotted a mountain in the distance with a little hole in the center. After her training session, she had gone back to the small quarters she shared with another girl and grabbed her pack. It was filled with some rations, climbing equipment, a blaster, and connected to it was a blanket. Lorelei had told the other girl she was going to explore something she had found and not to let anyone go before she left.

Now standing on the ledge which was in the middle of the mountain, she looked out into the distance and saw the building where she was staying. Kaz had taken her to Nixor and there had been several elders there waiting for them. Apparently she was going to be taught the ways of the Sith with several other students and then send to another planet to become an apprentice.

Turning around carefully, she examined the entrance to the cave. The border around the entrance was carved with strange figures. There were people but also icons that looked like they could be words from another language than Basic. She put her hands on her hips and squinted up at the sky. The sun was high in the sky so she still had a considerable amount of time. Opening her pack, she pulled out a light and turned it on.

Continuing into the cave, Lorelei shined the light on the walls and saw more of the intricate images carved into the walls. The deeper she walked into the cave the ground began to slope downwards. She reached a wall and felt around, trying to find a corridor. She found an entrance to the left and peered inside. Lorelei found a small room that smelled of mold, even more so than the part she had just come from did.

Setting her light down on the ground, she grabbed another one from her pack to light the room better. Setting them in the middle of the room, she walked around. She saw a statue of a woman at the far end of the room. It had been painted red and black and still showed traces of the paint. The woman was wearing a crown that had worn gold on it. The woman’s gowns seemed ornate and she held a small round thing in her hand. Kneeling in front of the statue, Lorelei saw a chest which she tried opening. It came open easily but with a loud squeak.

Rustling through its contents, she found documents and several artifacts. The documents were about a stone. At least that’s what the drawings depicted. The writing was in the same strange writing she had seen around the cave. Digging deeper into the chest, her hand touched something warm. With a squeal, Lorelei withdrew her hand. Unclipping her blue lightsaber, she used the handle to poke around. It hit something hard with a *clink*. With her hands, she pushed aside the papers and other things and saw a stone. It was glowing softly with a blue light and seemed to be pulsing.

Her hands shaking, Lorelei picked up the stone slowly. Breathing in, she brought it close to her face to examine it. Suddenly, it flew out of her hands across the room. Startled, Lorelei jumped back. The stone began to shake and then a black smoke came out of it. In awe, she watched as it took the form of a woman identical to the statue.Then the form became human but looked exactly like Lorelei and it spoke, “My dear, Lorelei, thank you for setting me free.” She waved her hands and continued, “Gaan en hoop iemand sal jou bevry as jy my bevry . Wanneer jy vrygestel , moenie die Sith nie misluk. Moenie versuim in die verowering van die boosdoeners . Moenie versuim het jy in die verlede . Go now, Kwea Acantha.” With that, she turned and left.

Somehow Lorelei understood what she had said although the Kwea Acantha thing didn’t make sense. “Wait!” Lorelei yelled, trying to run after her. She couldn’t move and a powerful wind yanked her back. Lorelei felt herself becoming lighter and suddenly the room went black. Her body was being pulled downwards towards the stone. At least that’s what it felt like. All of a sudden, she could see the room again but she was gazing at it from the floor. Then she realized she was in the stone.


Kwea woke with a gasp. Why were these memories coming to her? She got up and went to the refresher to rinse her face with water. Staring at her reflection in the mirror she thought about what had happened after that.

Her soul had been trapped in that stone for 172 years. In 153 ABY, a young Sith student, not much unlike herself, had come into the cave and had picked up the stone which released Kwea but took the girl’s soul inside. When she had been released, she had taken the girl’s, her name had been Bekana, body. She had been trapped when she was sixteen, the same age as Bekana but now, two years later, she was eighteen. Kwea hadn't given a damn about a speech. She had taken off running as soon as she was released. Now that she thought about it, Bekana was probably more confused than her...

She had gone from having light brown curly hair with grey eyes and fair skin to being a light skinned brunette. She had been curvy, full lipped, and attractive looking. At least, she had been attractive according to Onederon standards. This body, which she had been in for two years, was so different. It was thin but muscular. Kwea thought it was beautiful but would fit in better on Coruscant than Onederon. Her face was fierce with thinner lips, thicker brows, and high cheekbones. The cool grey eyes she had had were gone and replaced with Bekana's soft brown eyes, speckled with green and gold. The right side of her abdomen had a massive tattoo on it in a design of a bird. Most likely a raven. The Lorelei in her hated it but this new person she now was didn't mind it. It gave her a marking, a sign of her personality. Perhaps this body was more Sithly. It fit her mind more.

Her name had been changed when she had gone back to the Sith training center. Much to her surprise, the center had still been on Nixor and it had been the day of Bekana’s promotion to apprentice. A woman named Viscretus had taken her as an apprentice and that had been the time of name changing. She chose Kwea Acantha because those had been the last words she heard when she had been trapped. Later on, Kwea learned exactly what they meant and they had fit.

Sighing, Kwea shook her head. These thoughts were coming because of her collapse. Whenever she was sick, she had to relive those awful memories. It had been a long time since she had been sick. Glancing at her chrono, Kwea decided she might as well get ready for this feast. It usually took her a while.

Tags: no one particular. This is just for people to know more about Kwea.

 

OOC: Don´t be confused Gaven Palcar (Octavius) has nothing to do with the Gaven appearing in my fanfic. They just have the same first name.

IC: Darth Octavius

Octavius laid on his bed in the Sith temple as the dream came over him, once again.

The city below him was on fire as they reached the planet. Gerios 3 was one of the last strongholds of the Sith, or at least their superiors had claimed that. Gaven had reached the planet with one of the last shuttles and he asked himself how many last strongholds they still had to conquer. His former master jumped next to him to the ground. Marya had found him when he was still a boy on Citric and even now their bond was strong. She was the mother Gaven never had in his life, the one person in the galaxy that truly cared about him. The artillery fire hammer through the night and reached them on the small hill they used as landing zone. Gaven kneeled down and used his electro binoculars to get a better picture of the battle field while their soldiers, man and woman from a dozen different worlds gathered around them. "The imperials are advancing slower." He told Marya, while looking down at the battlefield. He saw the imperial knight moving slowly forward shielded by their heavy tanks. They don´t take risks, he knew. For a moment he thought back to the briefing, the commander the sons of a high ranking imperial moff had basically decided that his men should take the safe route into the city with the support of the tanks and artillery while the Jedi would attack the Sith at their flanks to clear their way. His master had spoken against this plan Gaven remembered but General Caron had demanded it. The imperial lead this mission so it was them to decide. The first blaster bolts hit the ground around them and Gaven looked up as a man was hit in the chest. The soldier died and the others threw themselves to the ground. Nowhere around them was cover, "So much to the plan." Gaven said as he activated his lightsaber. "A bunker a half klicks away." A soldier screamed only seconds before a blaster bolt hit the young woman between the eyes. "I will take care of that." Gaven answered and Marya nodded: "Will take their fire." The next five minutes where an nightmare as Gaven fought himself the way up to the bunker, everywhere around him laid corpses, the members of earlier landings he assumed. There had been no scouts that could have warned them, no artillery that had given them cover. Caron had send them directly into their death. When the Jedi finally reached the bunker he concentrated on the man inside. It where three, two of them where using an E-Web to decimate their enemies while the third man protected the door. Gaven killed him before the man even realized his presence. Than he was inside the building and the others died. The blaster fire finally stopped. The Jedi activated his com: "I´ve cleared the bunker you can advance to my position." Gaven saw how his soldiers walked through the battlefield in his direction. His master was still with them but less than a half where still on their feet. Gaven felt the pain inside him, he had known everyone of this men and women they had fought together for years and now, so many of them where gone. They had finally reached the bunker when it happened. Grenades fired from the imperial artillery to clear this part of the battlefield detonated around them. Gaven saw fire, only fire as his master burned to death, only meters away from safety. She looked directly into his eyes and he saw the pain and the fear inside them. And he heard the screams, the desperate of humans who were about to die. Another grenade hit the bunker and Gaven saw nothing more.

Octavius awoke and his hand reached for the knife he kept under his pillow. He breathed heavily and he started to shiver. The battle still haunted him, they had found him wounded but alive in the ruins of the bunker and when he awoke he had been on his way to the next battle, with new soldiers under his command to replace those he had called friends, but they would also die he knew. General Caron had used the non imperial troops as cannon fodder to safe his own man and in the end as they had secured the sector the imperial had claimed the victory for himself. As a reward the empress had made him governor of the sector while Octavius had been sent into another war. He had done this for years and all the time he had believed it was the right thing, for the best of the galaxy. But it all had been a lie. Nothing but a lie.

He looked at his crono, the feast would begin soon and he wanted to look presentable when it began.

Tag: Everyone who is interested.

 

IC: Darth Kronos

Hours passed, and Rullus was still working on Esmerelda, whom Kronos assumed was in stasis at that point. Things were silent. No one had said a single word in... he didn't know how long. He stopped counting the time a while back. He was left there, sitting alone.

He needed to be well rested for the feast, which would take place in a few more hours. He assumed that would be enough time for Esmerelda to get better - gain bones, more accurately. He needed to look his best.

He drifted off, completely unaware of his surroundings.

Kronos usually had pleasant dreams. The ones that you have, and can't seem to remember the next day. They don't have any significance to anything, really. As soon as you wake up, you move on, and get started on the day.

This one was different.

Kronos woke up, his vision blurry. Everything was a blob, a moving blob. Wherever he was, it was bumpy. Very bumpy. He felt like he was in a cargo ship.

Which is where he was. Dozens of people were littered throughout it, cramping everyone inside. Anyone who was claustrophobic would have a mental breakdown if they were in the same situation. Luckily, this did not happen.

Looking down, he noticed he was wearing something... unusual. Well, compared to his usual attire. He had a black tunic on, with generic black pants to cover anything that could accidentally show. His boots were also boring looking. They felt like hand-me-downs. Worn, used, and old. Above the waist, there was nothing. He was shirtless. But, that wasn't it. Connected to the ship's walls were chains. And those chains were attached to his hands and legs.

Confused, he began to look around, take in his surroundings more. The first thing he noticed was that everyone else was dressed the same way. Both the males and females. Each one also had chains connected to them, limiting their movement. They all had a stern look on their face, as if they were prepared for the worst. No one looked worried, scared, or frightened. No one seemed to notice his unusual behavior.

Looking into the ship's walls, which were surprisingly clean enough to be used as a mirror, he noticed his face was not covered. His signature helmet that everyone associated with him was now gone. What was shown was a scared face. It was completely shaven, with groomed black hair - also unlike his usual appearance out of the mask. His skin was dirty, gritty. It looked like he had ran a marathon, crawled in mud, and then ran some more. His attention turned to his eyes. With everything that was different, he expected to see that his eyes were different. But, thankfully, this was not the case. They were the same color: ocean blue. Not very evil looking, when broken down.

His chains rattled as he moved. His were the only ones that made a sound. The rest of the people in the ship were virtually motionless. He almost expected someone to hiss at him for doing this. No one else made a sound. It was silent. Aside from the faint sound of the ship's engine.

His thoughts shifted.

'Am I being transported somewhere? Where?'

As if someone heard his thoughts, this person, a man, spoke. Someone nameless, though clearly in charge of everyone. "Peons. You have a chance to prove yourself here today. We are reaching the drop point - a village. It holds something very important to someone higher up than me, and especially you. What this is, is none of your concern. What matters is how you reach it. Whoever is successful in getting this... will be considered for an apprenticeship. Whoever proves they have power, a potential, will also be considered. Failures... will be eliminated. Now, you know why you're here."

Well, that answered a lot. So, apparently, he was back as a Peon. And they needed some artifact? He didn't know. The Sith was rather vague about it. Which wasn't surprising.

He felt the ship land, as it jolted, making his body rock back and forth. Everyone else was at the ready, glaring at the front ramp.

The Sith spoke again: "We're here. Weapons ready."

'Weapons?' he thought. He hadn't noticed any weapons. He looked down, and, miraculously, there it was. A lightsaber. Clipped to his belt, but out of his reach due to the chains. He began to struggle to reach it, trying to fight against the chains. But it was no use. They were too strong, too reinforced.

The nameless Sith smiled, and an evil grin at that. "Oh, I almost forgot...". He then lifted his hand, and waved it slightly. In an instant, he was free. The chains unlocked, and fell to the ground. Some smashed against his soft, worn out boot, causing him to wince in pain. He was fearful someone saw that, more the nameless Sith. Luckily, no one mentioned it. He was beginning to wonder if anyone could see him.

The Nameless Sith began to count down from three. Kronos, if he was even called that at this time, gripped his lightsaber, also glaring at the ramp.

On "one", the ramp lowered, and everyone charged out, igniting their lightsabers, and screeching like madmen. He followed after the last person out, taking a more cautious approach. He also ignited his saber, as it shot up with a force not unusual for a Sith's blade.

The planet was dry, hot, and sandy. He didn't know where they were. He didn't know anything.

The village was already burning. The other Peons worked fast. Too fast, at least for him. He needed to step up his game, or he'd be killed. He ran off, looking for whatever the artifact was. But, he didn't even know what to look for. He didn't know what it looked like, what it was, what it did, or who had it. All he knew was that it was important "to someone higher up than me". Such a help.

He moved on to the main part of the village. Here, he saw the Peons pointlessly killing anyone who stood in there way, without asking questions. The village was littered with small homes, each one made by sticks and straw, presumably held together by some sort of sticky material. Multiple skinny tarps acted as doors. Boxes and other structures were scattered throughout the little village.

In the center, a bunch of pointless objects lied. In the middle of that, what looked like a cross was planted. These people were clearly religious.

He reached his first home, and, wasting no more time, barged in. He saw three people there. One an adult female, another an adult male, and a small child. A daughter. He could have asked them where this "important artifact" was, but he somehow knew it wouldn't make any difference. He walked towards them, raising his weapon. The family all cowered in fear, huddled together, completely helpless, and doomed for death. And, when they all had their eyes closed, and their faces away from Kronos, he brought his weapon down... and killed all of them with one swing.

He sighed, as he begun to search the home. It was small, which worked in his favor. Less places to look through. He got started, moving through each possible place quickly.

'Nothing that looks important here'.

He moved out, taking in the carnage once again. No one seemed to have found this thing yet, which, also, was good. He still had a chance to live.

As he moved closer into the center, a man and a woman stumbled into his vision, clearly had just escaped death or capture from a different Sith. Once they saw him, they couldn't do anything but stare. But, it wasn't of fear, no. It was of... sorrow, and disappointment. He wanted to know more.

Before he could get answers, the scene shifted, twisting into a ruined temple.

He turned his head in all directions, confused. He was just in a lonely village, and now he was in a temple?! A ruined one, at that. It didn't take long for him to figure out where he was. It was the Jedi Temple, and he was probably with a group of Sith assaulting it.

He put his hand on his face, in an attempt to feel if he had his mask. He felt only skin. He was beginning to wonder where this helmet of his was. His lightsaber was in his right hand, clenched tightly.

He stumbled through the rubble, almost tripping a few times. He was alone. No one was near him, but he could hear a battle going on near him. That was his destination. He moved on.

Fire engulfed much of the Temple. It burned high, and its smoke spread even higher. It roared, and crackled. The probable area of the battle was covered in these fires. He could already sense the death happening. And it gave him a partial boost in stamina.

A young female emerged from the shadows of the rubble. She was slim, clearly in her early twenties. Her hair was brown. And, through the darkness, he was even able to make out the color of her eyes: blue. Just like his.

He walked towards her, readying his weapon. When the mystery woman saw him, her eyes were suddenly fueled with hate - pure hatred. He assumed it was because he was a Sith, and his mission. But, then, she started shouting at him. And it felt... more personal than he thought it would. "You monster.... You monster! YOU DAMN MONSTER!".

She raised her weapon high, and Kronos readied to defend himself. And, when she brought her lightsaber down, Kronos woke up with a snap.

He startled himself. His head was laying on the armrest of the chair. Sitting up, Kronos immediately realized he was back in the infirmary, safe and sound. He was breathing heavily, and sweating. It became unusually hot inside his helmet. His face felt like it was burning. No longer being able to take any more of it, he pushed the helmet's button, and yanked it off, setting it aside on the other chair next to his. He wasn't clean shaven, as a medium amounts of facial hair surrounded his lips. His hair was shaggy, and soaked in sweat.

He couldn't stop thinking about the woman. 'Who was she? She had the same physical features of Esmerelda... so, could it be her? But, that doesn't make any sense. I would have noticed it by now... right?'. He wasn't sure. She could have been anyone. Anyone....

And, suddenly, it came to him. It was a memory. They both were. He had hidden them deep in the back of his mind, further than his secret compassion for certain people part of himself. There was a reason why he did this. And he didn't want to even think about it. He tried to push the thoughts out, but it was no use. They were fresh in his mind, and they weren't going to go anywhere any time soon.

He sunk back in his seat, as his highly repressed memories were pulled back into the foremost parts of his mind.

TAG: No one. Just some more stuff about Kronos' backstory, told in vague ways.

 

IC: Jwob Sebb
Great Library, Sith Temple. Moraband

"Master?!?" he thought. What the kriff did I say that for? Master. I'm my master. I've never had a master. I'm always the one in the room who is in control. *scoff* I wouldn't be very good at trading if I allowed myself to have a master. True, sometimes I've had teachers or managers or supervisors, but I've always been good enough at my schooling or my trade to keep them off my back. *Master*. Right. Now, the customers. They're my "master." He smiled. Well, only insomuch as I can profit from it. Hmmm... Yes. "What's my benefit?" That's what I've always based my decisions on.

How could I have been so overcome as to say "Yes, master"? Jwob looked at the relic in his hand. He looked closely at it. He spoke out loud to no one in particular, "That's... not it. It's something. But not what said that."

He looked around. The holocron. There. On the table. He approached it. It spoke again. "Take me quick! Tarry not, for I shall be your Teacher. Gain you a Master of flesh as is true and right. For it is the way of Three. Master, Apprentice, Teacher. We shall both you push to grow separately and I shall be the secret of you and any you find worthy to know of and study of me with you. In turn you shall learn and teach me and show me a great many things." So, not master he thought. Teacher. I've had teachers before. Abandoned me. Pushed me away because I wanted more than they could give me. Narrow minded, they were.

"Jwob we must go." Wait. Go? Go?? I can't go. Dark Lady Bellorum invited me here personally. And this holocron. It belongs to the Lorekeeper. I can't just take it. But that idea. To grow in the dark side. He'd studied so much. To learn more. More! He mused that he'd even thought about what his lightsaber would look like. Another smile. This one a bit more... evil?

So... What's my benefit? My benefit is that I need that "more" it promised. I have two choices here. One, stay here, leave the holocron where it is and be the guest at the party. Well, really not an option. Two, take the holocron and go. But go where? Neither is a good choice. He looked at the relic again. And then again at the holocron. "What's my benefit?" he said out loud. Knowledge. Skills. More. Wait. There is a third choice. Yes, I'll take up the holocron, but I'll stay. I'll ask... someone... about it. At the very least I'll get some knowledge. He reached for the holocron...

Tag: Mitth_Fisto, Mikaboshi, Lady Belligerent

 

OOC: Hope everyone's ready.

GM UPDATE

The Battle of Moraband GM Tag 1 of 3

~

High in orbit above Moraband, a dagger-shaped capital ship decanted from hyperspace with two frigates in tow. The capital ship, a repurposed Imperial II-Class Star Destroyer, blackened and skeletal, once had a name. The Chimaera.

The True Sith had come to Moraband.

On board, the Carbonite Sith Army waited. Three artillery battalions, and scores upon scores of Sith troopers from the time of the great Darth Revan clad in mirrored chrome armor, launched in transport ships from a series of hangars along the ship's edge. On the command deck stood Darth Eranikus.



Once a Jedi, Eranikus had served first Darth Revan, and later Darth Malak, during their empire's destructive campaign against the Republic. Though an undeniably gifted general, Eranikus had been far too unstable even for Malak's liking. So it was perhaps an unsurprising turn when he betrayed the Dark Lord and defected along with his army, declaring himself alone as the true Dark Lord of the Sith.

Delusions of grandeur had been Eranikus' undoing, and in short order both he and his entire army had been captured and brought back into the fold. Not content to simply destroy him and his loyalists for their betrayal, Malak instead saw them frozen in Carbonite and left to live a nightmare. With Malak's death, the Carbonite Sith Army was left forgotten for four thousand years.

Now hopelessly insane, they and their general had been thawed by the True Sith. Eranikus now stood poised to take the mantle of Dark Lord he so coveted -- the mantle promised to him by the Pantheon if he could do but one thing; Purge Moraband of its impurities. Rid the great temple of the vermin which had taken up residence there. Capture the great temple intact. Decapitate the false empire and watch it die from the neck down.

Eranikus would not fail again.

~



Transport ships touched down unmolested, infantry surrounded the Sith Temple and closed in from every direction. Artillery stood with clear lines of fire to each hangar and the large circular veranda atop the temple complex. No aircraft, nor any ground force, would be leaving the temple intact or unscathed.

Worse yet, something else was awakening in the distance.

The doors of Haretisch's war room burst open without warning, and the Night Herald looked up with a sigh from his task. Three officers stood in the doorway, dressed smartly in pressed gray double-breasted jackets cinched at the waist by black belts. Matching trousers and polished heeled boots completed the ensemble. The centermost was known as Defender Eyvan - the chief officer responsible for temple defenses.

"We had better be under attack, Defender," Haretisch commented on the abrupt, uninvited entrance. By now he was in formal evening dress.

"We-we are, your lordship," Eyvan stuttered. The Night Herald was immediately unnerved. "We are under attack, milord."

Haretisch stood and took a step toward the trio. "What?"

"Infantry and artillery have surrounded the temple. They have clear shots at every hangar. The front gate is under siege. It is only a matter of seconds until they press the assault and pour into the temple," Eyvan detailed, nervous sweat beading on his forehead and around his temples. He swallowed. "You are the first to be informed, Night Herald. The defenses are not organized."

The Dark Lord's jaw set and rippled. "How did they get past the Golan platforms?"

"Th-there was a traitor, milord. Multiple traitors," Eyvan replied briskly. "Main power was diverted to hyperdrive on all three Golan platforms just before enemy arrival. We are still trying to switch power back but the control rooms have been barricaded," Eyvan gulped.

"Tell me this is the worst of it, defender."

Something akin to a whine escaped Eyvan's lips before he spoke again. "The ground defenses - the desert turrets - have been sabotaged as well. We are unable to make contact with any remote systems. This was done by one of our own, there was no warning! I-" the Defender's explanation, which grew more frantic with every word, was abruptly cut off.

An icy blue lightsaber blade had cleaved him in two. He collapsed in a swish of glowing cinders and dying ash as the junior officers on either side of him shrunk and winced expecting to be next. Instead the Dark Lord simply passed between where the Defender had once stood, clipping a brightly polished new lightsaber to his belt.

"Sound the alarms," he said to the remaining officers as he left.

~

Attention all occupants. This is not a drill. The great temple is under attack. Repeat: this is not a drill. All hangars are under siege. Do not attempt launch.

Alarms howled through the temple halls as the intercom began to broadcast to every corner of the complex. The foyers connecting to hangars East and West sealed immediately, thick metal doors slamming shut simultaneously with a clang. The eastern hangar was rocked to its foundations as Eranikus' artillery fired a warning blast at the exit way - the deflector shields that spanned the open side halted the flames but the concussion swept through the hangar virtually unimpeded, knocking every occupant to the floor in a daze.

At the western hangar, a shell struck the shield wall and burst, but the explosion was not as violent. Instead the opening was shrouded in a thick haze, and moments later from the veil emerged chrome-armored paratroopers, sailing into the populated hangar, brandishing blaster rifles, and opening fire the moment boots touched ground. Imperial guards returned fire, picking off invaders with expert accuracy, but were quickly forced to retreat to the adjoining corridor by sheer numbers. The hangar was taken.

Multiple breaches. Hangar West is lost. Repeat: Hangar West is lost. All non-combat personnel evacuate to lower levels via Central Foyer.

Panic took hold in the great hall as rows of stained glass windows shattered at once. Troopers came kicking through, swinging in by grappling hooks and landing sure footed in the peripheries of the room. Numerous governors from surrounding systems, trusted underlings of the Triumvirate who were awaiting the ceremonies, stood alone and exposed. Doors were shut and barricaded within moments as the squad surveyed the scene. A pregnant silence filled the room, until a captain nodded. Blasters erupted. The political infrastructure of the Sith Empire was butchered. And via the great hall, Eranikus' forces now controlled the main gate.

~

A charge detonated, and the back wall of the infirmary exploded in a cascade of rubble, filling the room with dust and leaving the occupants ears' ringing. Darth Rullus choked, now prone on the floor, and with a snap-hiss brought his lightsaber to life as he rolled over to stand and fight.

The Crimson blade was like a beacon, and a barrage of blaster bolts came quickly through the haze to send him collapsing again, smoking and riddled with holes. Kronos and Esmerelda, too, were thrown to the floor and left temporarily deaf by the blast. Carbonite troopers began to sweep the room for hostiles - the amber haze would only provide cover for a few more moments.

TAG: Darth Kronos, Sinrebirth

~

The library was of special significance. A treasury of irreplaceable Sith knowledge spanning from the dawn of recorded history to the present day. Eranikus would see that knowledge destroyed so that none could access it and challenge him. The Sith would live and die with him, by the grace of the Pantheon.

The air shimmered for a moment, and then they materialized from what appeared to be thin air; half a dozen elite stealth troopers of the Carbonite Sith Army, clad in armor of satin black plasteel, invisible in the fabric of the force and brandishing flamethrowers as well as slug-throwers. Jwod Sebb and the Lorekeeper would find themselves taken surprise and held at gunpoint.

"Kill them. Then burn it all," one said.

TAG: Mikaboshi, DarthIshyZ, Mitth_Fisto

~

Fighting spilled into the corridors across the west side of the temple. Chrome troopers clashed with imperial guards at what seemed like every corner, and though the temple forces were better equipped and better trained, the opposing force's numbers were winning out. Haretisch was sweeping fleet-footed through one such hallway, lightsaber buffeting each wall with scorch marks as he cut a path through the attackers with wide, bold strokes. He opened a private line to a small group.

"Artillery has a fix on every hangar," he started, "and they control the great hall. If they open the main gate it's over - we have to get in there and clear them out. Octavius, Kwea, make for the great hall through the kitchen, and I'll meet you inside. Arach, take Syren and head to Hangar West - we won't get a handle on the corridors until we stop the flow of reinforcements. A familiar face is there and has a plan. Zalen, something blew up in the infirmary and I want to know if it's still viable. Emperor, Dawn Herald, Consort, what are your locations?"

TAG: Anedon, Halle Dray, Lady Belligerent, Sinrebirth

~

Darth Kralkus ducked around a corner as a volley of blaster bolts came screaming in and burnt the floor to black where he had just been peeking around. It was lucky that he was so close to Hangar West, and yet unlucky that his exact location had been the west foyer, which was now locked down from one direction and blocked from the other by the troopers pouring out into the adjoining hall. He would stay put - no sense wasting his energy now mowing them down endlessly when he didn't have enough help to stem the tide. When the transmission from the Night Herald came through, he breathed a sigh of relief. Help was coming in the form of Arach and Syren. The best he could do was to keep their attention so that his comrades could approach more safely.

Sighing, he readied himself before jumping out into the line of fire and doing a jig. "Away put your weapons, I mean you no harm!" he shouted, before diving back around the corner to avoid the resulting burst of blaster fire.

TAG: Moonspun Dragon, QueenSabe7

OOC: Here's a reference map which should hopefully prove to be useful. Red diamonds are enemy troops, purple diamonds are barricaded doors. All our locations are noted. Have fun and don't die.

 

IC: Darth Ravenous
Accompanied by Hel, Darth Hades
Mountains, Moraband...

Ravenous continued to mend the wound on his head, which was rather large gash that needed attention. With each prick of the makeshift needle, pain dulled and he began focusing on the repetition... Another jab of the needle, poke, tie, thread...Another jab... poke, tie, thread. Almost hypnotic, he lost track of time as he continued and faded into a buried memory...

IC: Wuulfwarg (Bounty Hunter, "Ravenous")
Nar Shaddaa, Wuster's Marketplace Cantina
*Flashback*
"I'll give you 10,000 credits furball, no less. I could hire the Death Dealers for this job for even less, but they don't have the... certain expertise for this sort of contract." Slurred Bulva the Hutt. one of the few bulbous slugs that now inhabited the planet....

"How about you give me 15,000 credits like I asked first and that will guarantee none of this can 'ever' come back to you?.. and i'll let you keep your arms..Your obeseness?" The Wookiee added. After a long pause as Bulva contemplated the offer, rubbing his stomach he exclaimed, "Ha, I like you Wookiee.. Never willing to let a contract go. You will be especially happy, one as...'numb' as you, will get paid double when you return to me with their heads.." Bulva's slave emerged from the shadows and slid a dossier over to the Wookiee. He opened it and saw a high ranking Human Senator with a woman and a child. Wuulfwarg glared into the dossier. The world around his former self began to fade as he slipped back into reality....

As Ravenous continued plucking his head wound, he overheard part of Hel's comms; a distress call, suddenly alert, he rose from his seat and through his nose; let in a very putrid smell of death and decay. His brow furrowed as he put two and two together. He noticed the Woman change her demeanor quickly and he packed up what little he had strewn around into his utility pouches. He felt a bulge in his rear utility pouch and dug deep into it. Hel commanded the Master and apprentice duo; "What do you have besides the weapons you're holding? We're going to need everything we've got!" The Wookiee smiled somewhat; more at his stupidity from not realizing earlier, he was still in possession of 3 thermal detonators. He rose them up excitedly and threw one to each of his allies. "Thank youuuu Sosca!" Ravenous howled menacingly. They were still outnumbered and faced certain death, but at least they could take out a few hundred undead with them if they were to fall in battle...If.

Just after, a Light Corellian Freighter buzzed close overhead, Hel didn't seem to know who was flying the spacecraft. It looked old, but not ancient so maybe they could be of some assistance.

"Let's Go, we have to hold them... Or die trying!" Hel shouted over the decrepit sounding engines. She threw her bag over her shoulder. Ravenous looked to his Master and followed.
Tag:Lady Belligerent Darth Rozic E. L.Knight

 

Combo with Sinrebirth

Draconis
Cremation Abattoir -- Grand Sith Temple -- Korriban
Moments before all hell broke loose...


“Who was it?”

Draconis had felt the presence of the Emperor of the Sith flow into the room. Manifesting behind him. The air of recent… events… still hung aloft in the air. As the words from the Emperor questions the transpiring events, clearly aware of Draconis having not been alone. Draconis turned, bringing himself about to face Emperor Insipid. “Sire.”Draconis offered a shallow nod and bow slightly to the side, with one hand out slightly palm up. Draconis stood stark naked before him, offering no sense of embarrassment as he addressed the Emperor. Not in away attempting to be rude or disrespectful, simply the Emperor was present and thus he addressed him. The Emperor would come to notice the naked Sith still had a toned physique, however much of his pale grey skin was scarred on from his torturous ordeals and past. Draconis did not attempt to diminish the powerful being’s presence, with fumbling for clothes or moving to cloth himself suddenly. Draconis simply and slowly addresses the Emperor as he offered respect for their leader.

“A temptress and messenger, you know her as Talon… Sire.” Draconis stepped off slowly to the side past the Emperor whom he knew was watching his every move. “She wanted me to work my way through the order, seize the mantle…. aid me in doing so… Whole path of blood stuff… gruesome dark girl really…” Draconis grinned with satisfaction from the enjoyment of it all as he spoke sinisterly about the encounter, which had been exactly that. Macabre and dark. Draconis’ robes and boots were scattered about the immediate area, there was really no rush in gathering them. Though Draconis moved about slowly, at all times never turning he back to the Emperor, not in fear, but in respect… as he slowly gathered his boots, robes, mask, and sword. One by one placing each items on the same metal examination slab that had seen… use. Draconis held and clasped a boot retrieved from the stone floor then realized it was not his, as it had been the poor soul’s and now a pile of ashes in of the furnaces. Obviously flung from his body in the flailing struggle from before. Draconis grinned as his head cocked slightly upon recognizing the boot was not his and dropped it off to the side. Grinning with an almost childish delight as he found his other boot pair finally, retrieving it from the stone floor.
“Doom and the end of all things Sire.” Draconis continued to speak in general terms as he placed his wardrobe on the metal examination slab. Eluding to further conversation had between Talon and him. “Subjects of which I am sure Sire is keenly aware of.” Knowing despite recent events, the Emperor and most powerful being in the galaxy would be well attuned to things.

Many would take no solace in the fact that currently one would appear to be clearly at a disadvantage, naked and before The Emperor. Through Draconis did not act like it… as he seemingly paid it little mind, if the Emperor wished his death it would be done and thus was not worth fretting over. Draconis waited to see what the Emperor bid of him.

The Emperor glowered at the naked man. Draconis was a master of many layers. He should punish the former Vizier for letting her go, but there would be curiosity, at least from the Triumvirs, and that might go public. Insipid had released Darth Nihl from carbonite to sniff out any One Sith within the Order, and successfully to boot. Draconis would likely, artfully, and correctly, argue that Talon was likely to have approached other Sith, and they would have a far better chance of discovering who if Talon was alive.

The Emperor went through this entire thought process while staring at the naked man.

Insipid was amused. Draconis was a Sith of the old ways, the cut-throat ways, the ways which had fallen apart into civil war. It was said that Draconis was the pivot point and that his public condemnation of Vassago would have saved the Order. Insipid considered that the Grand Vizier had wielded as much power as the former Dark Lord, but he was his own entity, and a wily one at that.

'Doom and the end of all things.' Insipid knew to what Talon referred to, which suggested a traitor or she had already allied with the Pantheon. 'An ideological war is under way between us and a rival triumvirate that intends to unleash chaos against the Galaxy - not order, or Empire, simply destruction. I imagine Talon alluded to this, and suggested the idea that we are aligned with those goals - as did the Sorceress in the Golg who Lady Re'van killed.' Insipid's eyes went out of focus, as he stared at Draconis' form.

'Before you arrived, Darth Malkuth of this shadow triumvirate was defeated by the Order in a combined effort, and I have personally destroyed, secretly, Darth Yammka during the Battle of Coruscant. Dathka Graush, former apprentice of Emperor Dreadwar and the former King of the Sith, led this trio, but he was killed by a team including the now late Darth Cruor.'
He allowed this to sink in. Draconis could tell the Emperor was trying to understand why Draconis had let Talon slip away. Yet the clash had yielded much more information than any simple execution would have, and sowing the seeds for future gains if played right. There were other matters to attend to, Draconis had not caught the attention of the Emperor without purpose. The Emperor did not just appear and present himself without cause... no beings of such did.

"An-ideological war is underway..." Draconis listened intently as he slowly dressed, the torn and shredded clothes were in far worse shape now. They barely covered him. Draconis clasped his belt on as his ragged boots slipped on and he placed is mask on, covering his nose and mouth. Draconis paying close attention to the summary of events, his curiosity and interest to that of the names brought forth and surrendered. Mention of the shadow Pantheon and its agents one of which Draconis marked as Talon. Draconis sheathed his sword into its home his back with a sharp sound, his chest was not covered at all as the sheet strap crossed his chest, his robes loosely non-existent. "...Destruction. I imagine Talon alluded to this..."Draconis continued to face the Emperor as he gathered himself, staring back at him respectfully but also aware. 'Well we cannot have that.' Draconis thought to himself reflecting on the ideal of total destruction and wanton slaughter. Ironic coming from a being which was an agent of chaos and death himself.

"Before you arrived. Darth Malkuth of this shadow triumvirate was defeated by the order..." The Emperor continued on his summary of events bringing Draconis current... "Yammka... Coruscant... Graush... Dreadwar..." The names continued to be reeled off along with tying them all together given current events.

None of the names were familiar, yet the visages of unseen horrors and shadows danced in his head, a consequence of encounters beyond veils recently with an entity or entities recent and distant past. Visions and having the sight being a blessing and curse. The Emperor would Cleary have recognized that Draconis understood far more than most.
Draconis did not shield this from the Sith, at least most of all of it.

"...Cruor." Draconis' eyes narrowed. Briefly a mix of anger, annoyance, and loss. There would be a time, but that was not now. Draconis pushed the thoughts out of his head.

Draconis head cocked slightly as he cracked his neck shaking off the thought and refocusing.

Draconis was a loyal beast, Darth Insipid would have begun to pick up on such. An extension and hand to those he deemed worthy of following, having exhibited such earlier in the throne room.

Speaking of the handler well the handler was a formality, Draconis took held no ill will towards Insipid for 'checking up on him and seeking to learn of his intentions'... there were always handlers and agents revolving around all those who were threats. Make no mistake Draconis was a threat, all Sith were... but an ally at present and loyal to the Triumvir in place until they gave him cause not to respect and call them such.

In the meantime, Draconis was sure there were things that need be addressed. Talon was right, he had been wandering the desert for far too long. Draconis sheathed the ancient Sith dagger on his side with a sharp crisp movement. He was partial dressed, at least his boots were and what was left of his lower dress robe.
"Thy bidding? Sire."

Insipid was pleased. Draconis took on all that he had said, and debated it, weighed it, and still was as resolute as ever. He was similar to Lord Manticore and Titus - loyal to a fault, but not at his own expense. That is all that Insipid could ask of. 'I have a target for you.' The phantom gestured a datapad from the wreckage, and typed into it. It was a single word, and a string of coordinates. Draconis might know what it was; he might have to research it.

'It might be there. It would be key to the Pantheon. I require you to claim it. Before anyone.'

The datapad was poised near Draconis' grasp. 'If anyone else is there, you would need to kill them. All of them. Regardless of their disposition.'
Insipid hoped his meaning was clearly conveyed.


And so it was…. Draconis claimed in his hand, the datapad being manipulated by the Emperor hovering near his grasp. Bringing it into view while listening to the Emperors edict of his instructions surrounding the desired task. Draconis' eyes flared ever so slightly barely noticeable as he read the word that had been typed, noting the coordinates along with it. Softly Draconis mouth the word under his breath. His reaction was subtle, but nonetheless deep and moving. Clearly the Emperor would see and feel such and draw satisfaction from it, knowing Draconis recognized and understood what was being asked of him. Entrusting him.

TAG: NOONE

 

IC- Darth Arach
Battle of Moraband

She had just finished tying the bodice of her dress when the alarm sounded. She immediately pulled out her dagger and vibroblade from under the skirt. Whoever started this is going to pay, was her dark thought.

Arack stepped towards her door, but drew up as Haretisch's voice filtered to her.

"Artillery has a fix on every hangar," he started, "and they control the great hall. If they open the main gate it's over - we have to get in there and clear them out. Octavius, Kwea, make for the great hall through the kitchen, and I'll meet you inside. Arach, take Syren and head to Hangar West - we won't get a handle on the corridors until we stop the flow of reinforcements. A familiar face is there and has a plan. Zalen, something blew up in the infirmary and I want to know if it's still viable. Emperor, Dawn Herald, Consort, what are your locations?"

Arach felt a flash of relief when she heard the name of the young woman she had talked with before their missions. Good. She has survived. We really need to meet up when this is over, she thought ruefully.

Through the Force, she sent her acknowledgement to Haretisch, turning her device off at the same time. Upon reaching her door, she cracked it open and looked down the hall. Seeing it was clear, she crept down the hall to Syren's door.

Stopping only long enough to make sure her apprentice was coming, Arach continued down the hall, concealing her presence in the Force as she did so. There was no need to broadcast her location.

It wasn't long before she came upon a group of enemy soldiers. Arach stayed in a nearby corridor and decided to have some fun.

She accessed a soldier's mind and raised illusions and paranoia. Your friends will betray you. They will torture you, then kill you. All because of that one mistake.... You should kill them first. Right here. Right now.

Arach hung back to watch.

Tags: Darth_wanderguard, QueenSabe7

 

IC: Darth Kronos

The time progressed, and he began to settle - well, as much as he could after a dream like that. He was still distracted, his eyes wide, his mind deep in thought. He didn't want to admit anything that had happened in his dream. All he wanted was to push it out of his head. But, no matter how hard he tried, he was unsuccessful. It always found its way back into the foremost part of his brain. He needed something to distract him. He wished something would happen.

As if on cue, an alarm sounded, startling Kronos as soon as it did. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.

And, he was right.

"Attention all occupants. This is not a drill. The great temple is under attack. Repeat: this is not a drill. All hangars are under siege. Do not attempt launch."


'Great', he thought. 'Just great'. He got up, turning his head in all directions, hoping to see who or what was attacking the Temple. He had no luck. He began pacing around the room, readying his lightsaber as he did so. Whoever walked through that door would end up dead, whether friend or foe.

The comlink voice sounded again: "Multiple breaches. Hangar West is lost. Repeat: Hangar West is lost. All non-combat personnel evacuate to lower levels via Central Foyer.".

He gripped his lightsaber even tighter. How could some lowlife even attempt to ambush the Temple? There's, at least, over 20 highly trained Sith Lords inside, every one of them probably gearing up for the banquet, and probably bored. But, yet, here they were. In yet another life or death situation.

His thoughts shifted to Esmerelda. He needed to get her out of there. As he moved towards her position, he started to think aloud: "What the f-"


His sentence was interrupted, as suddenly, the back wall exploded, sending Kronos careening into the opposite wall, where the chairs were. His body slammed into the wall, as multiple sharp pieces of rubble grazed his face and side, causing blood to flow immediately. It wasn't too bad, however. His arms and shoulder were able to block a significant amount of the rubble, as he fell to the ground. He wiped the blood off his face.

A larger piece of the wall found his helmet, as it caught it and pinned it into the other wall. It instantly crushed it, rendering it completely useless and beyond repair.

To make matters worse, his hearing was temporarily cut off. All he could hear was a loud, annoying, high pitched ring. Dust clouded his vision. But, that shouldn't matter. Whoever was blew up the wall was going to walk through any moment, and he had to be on his feet. The only problem was that he couldn't stand. Every time he tried to push himself back up, his arms would fail him, and he would collapse. So, he began to crawl, moving closer to Esmerelda inch by inch.

Eventually, his vision began to clear, and he noticed multiple carbonite soldiers making their way into the infirmary, all in a practiced manner. Despite seeing them, Kronos did not ignite his lightsaber. He hoped the thick layer of dust and rubble in front of him would provide enough protection for him to reach Esmerelda in time.

His strength was returning. His vision was clear. And he was finally not completely deaf. He could hear the soldiers' feet moving through the rubble. He had to act quick. He moved quicker to the private curtain room, as he slowly started to stand up, though his legs a little bit wobbly.

Once he made it to Esmerelda's position, he finally ignited his lightsaber. Its crimson blade shot up like lightning.

He was ready for action.

TAG: Darth_wanderguard and, uhhh... Sinrebirth too... yeah.

 

IC: Re'van
Her Private Chambers

Re'van stared at the wraiths that now stood in her quarters. Kalara, and the one she called Phanius. She spoke to Phanius, refusing to bow down to his words. It seemed that perhaps that is what he wanted, for when he spoke once more, he was more forthcoming. "My true name is Darth Ruin, and you prove me right, and perhaps can truly bring my philosophy to fruition - a Rule of One, of just you.'" The room rocked with an explosion, and with a whirl, Re'van stretched out within the Darkside, attempting to gleam what was going on within the temple. In a moment, the Temple was full of enemies, of foes, of chaos, as confusion reigned. What had happened to the temples defenses? Re'van's anger flared as she drew her extra weapons to her, wondering what now was going on." Darth Ruin now spoke. "My secret will have to wait. I carry a truth, but I will not unburden myself." Obviously, Kalara found that statement amusing as she snickered. 'We are all unburdening ourselves now. Even the spirits must pick a side in what is to come." What was to come? So they did know something. 'Quiet!' Ruin spat. But Kalara would not back down as she spoke to Darth Ruin. 'I have been inside your head, I know your secret. So I know that there are sides to pick at all. The spirits can feel that there is a threat, but not what. Which is how all the Holocrons and spirits are latching onto Sith, rather than biding their time for the best apprentice. The spirits are simply settling for what they can get.' A rebuttal came quickly. 'But I know what the Son told you.' The Son? So there was something afoul going on, but not necessary connected to the Trimvirs. But perhaps made to look that way? If it was them, then it could only be the original two left. She did not think Insipid would do such a thing, but Haretisch? She did not know enough of the man to give to words. "What is to come..?" Re'van echoed, a edge coming to her voice. "If I fall, then you will be lost as well. So whatever secrets you are so desperate to hold, reconsider them quickly, or else you will be holding them for all eternity!" Suddenly the sound of something Re'van could truly say she had never heard within all of her existence within the walls of the temple. Alarms. Sirens were going off all over the temple, and then there was an announcement. /Attention all occupants. This is not a drill. The great temple is under attack. Repeat: this is not a drill. All hangars are under siege. Do not attempt launch./

WHAT?!!!

Before she could recover from that announcement, another pronouncement came. But this one was powerful, more forceful, as the words cascaded all around them. /'Sith of the Seventh Empire, I address you here and now. The Galactic Shadow War is not yet over. Our enemies are the Pantheon, a legion of dozens of Sith legacies woven to take control of the Galaxy on the moment of our true and final victory. The enemy has struck us, here, with the intention of ending us once and for all. The Triumvirate and High Tribunal are here, you are all here save for a handful of exceptions - and it is our combined might they face./ An explosion shook the Temple, and Re'van glared at her ghostly pair. Insipid's voice continued. /Today you fight as an Order, as an Empire. For not only have our orbital and ground defenses been sabotaged, and our home under siege, but it is a distraction for an Army of the Undead, for someone has cast the spell of living flesh on the entirety of Moraband. A hundred thousand years of dead have risen, and make for the Golg mountain pass. We must break the siege and make it to the pass, to reinforce the four Sith that are positioned to stop it. Just four. If four can hold that line - you can lift this siege./ A long pause, and then he continued. /'Do not just hold out - win. Crush our enemies. I have previously recalled our mighty flagship, the Dreadnought the Wrath of Vader, with enough firepower to finish the zombie horde from orbit. But if I need to rely upon that, I will consider you, the greatest of all Sith, to be failures. Complete and utter failures. Don't be. For we are the Sith! And the Galaxy is ours!/

Golg!!! AGAIN?!?!?! Could she not wash the stench of that place away yet!?! How could the undead pass, when the entire citadel all but collapsed? And it sat in the way of that pass as well. SORCERESS!!! Is there something you forgot to add? SECRET PASSAGEWAYS PERHAPS? Re'van gave pause for a few fleeting seconds as she thought of what she had just heard. It would be almost impossible for a single Sith being to awaken the undead of the ENTIRE PLANET!!! Even Dathka Graush had his limits. This would take something more dangerous, than written within the ancient tomes themselves. Only the Pantheon could do it. FOOLS! Re'vans anger flared to a hot
passion. Her eyes quickly flared as she called her other equipment to her. The Darkness began to sing within her, as she felt her powers rise to her call. Suddenly, there was a clatter outside her door, and Re'van's Force senses sang out, as there was death, right outside of her own quarters. Re'van looked to Kalara and Ruin as they glared at each other, but before Re'van could reach the door, Insipid's aura suddenly sang through the Force, as his voice carried across the open area,

"If any Sith has an escape ship of their own, hidden somewhere, it is you. The hangars are all blocked, all concealed. I must get into orbit - get to our Golan's, restore them to target the Star Destroyer before we make any headway and it decides to blow up parts of the Temple to restore parity." Re'van was not entirely sure what that meant, but it did not sound like something that she would like to experience directly. Re'van gave a dark smile, as she looked toward Kalara. "Hope this amulet works as well as you claim. We will need it." With that, she snatched the gem that held her two companions, and quickly replaced it deep within her clothing. The other amulet was already on her person, and with a wide swipe of her hand, she opened the door of her quarters, while simultaneously resetting her traps within. Stepping outside, she gave a respectful nod of her head. "You are indeed correct, Sire. The Ferel lays at your disposal, for I do not use the main hangers, for she is cloaked." She stepped out into the open hallway, looking about, stretching out her senses to see if there was any other immediate dangers. As she did she noticed a blade laying on the ground next to a enemy trooper who no longer had a face. An improvement already. Something about his armor though, stirred an ancient memory, for it looked out of place. She quickly levitated the blade into her hand, and with a look of approval, tucked it within her belt. She then looked back at Darth Insipid. "As you say, we must move quickly. I can use the hidden passageways, that I know, to give us a direct route back to my ship, unless you bide otherwise." With that, Re'van called her lightsaber to hand, but did not ignite her blade, as she began to lead a way that would take them the quickest way towards her ship. As she did, she did a general scan of Darth Insipid as well. She knew that everything was not as it seemed, and she did not wish to be caught unawares. She compared what she felt before, from the first time she met him. Something was not correct here, and she knew that more was involved than what she was initially sensing.


TAG: Sinrebirth

 

IC: Jwob Sebb, Combo post with my holocron (yes, it's mine now. what you gonna do about it, huh?)Great Library, Sith Temple, Moraband
(GM Approved)

He reached for the holocron and took it. It felt strange. It was a solid object, almost circular, the straight sides made of triangles. It felt both cold and hot at the same time. It had what looked like stained glass sides with small panes. The lead-lines didn’t make out any design he could fathom, although they could have been symbols. Jwob held the holocron up to his eyes to get a better look. Something was swirling in there. It didn’t feel like liquid. The contents didn’t slosh. Smoke? That would settle. It seemed to be alive. “Well of course it is,” Jwob said to himself. “How could it speak to me unless it was ‘alive’?”

It. He? She? If it was alive, it would have a name, wouldn’t it. “Who are you?” Jwob asked, not fully expecting an answer. “Where do you come from? How old are you? Where have you been?” Curiosity piqued in Jwob. He’d never held something so fascinating! Yet, it was an unknown and, so, also a bit frightening.

Jwob straightened up and spoke directly to the cube. “How would you teach me?”

There was no time to hear a response. Suddenly an explosion in the distance and an announcement:

“Attention all occupants. This is not a drill. The great temple is under attack. Repeat: this is not a drill. All hangars are under siege. Do not attempt launch.”

Jwob ducked instinctively, but from what? There wasn’t anything immediate. He looked around for where the Lorekeeper had fled earlier. As he was heading for the passageway, six troopers materialized behind him. “Oh, kriff!” he muttered.

What in the singular world of Koriban was this? was the first thought to radiate through it's mind. Not to the questions, as it had thought before questions and especially explosions thereof was only natural and a part of a beginning journey. No he thought that to the fact that these interlopers were sporting flame throwers. Flame Throwers in a Library!

What more could it say! Except. "It is too late to run now. We must fight. As to how I would teach you, watch and learn, contribute as you see fit, just do not shoot what is added to the scene." it whispered and then it would seem a glint would play about the troopers backs, a small dripping noise could be heard as the air took on the faint aroma of leaking flamethrower fluids. If one cared to look it could be seen slowly dripping into a pool at the flame troopers feet with what appeared to be a second drip over the one closest to Jwob's fingers that held the flamethrower. A glimmer then played over the shattered window if any cared to look at the shattered stain glass window before Shyracks came dive bombing in. "Scream?" it simply asked.

Jwob agreed with the holocron, he must fight. Inventory. What do I have. Yes, I have my voice. Always a good weapon. And I can use more force to at least put those... things... off balance. Hold-out blaster, good. Knives, where they should be. OK, holocron, I'm in your hands. Scream first. Jwob let out a bellow stronger than the one earlier. He'd broken wood before and that happened this time, too. Two of the beasts were knocked over. A third was flattened under a collapsing bookshelf. "I'll have to help the Lorekeeper clean that up."

Tags: @Mitth_Fisto @Sinrebirth @Mikaboshi

 

IC: Darth Anark
Afterward…

​

It could have been the ominous visions of the dead, could’ve been an after effect of the immense power Emperor Insipid had bestowed upon him in his hour of need, or maybe he just wasn’t cut out for all this. He pushed the latter to the back of his mind as he awoke from unconsciousness for the second time in one day. Still on the rooftop, only now the air traffic was minimal and the sounds of battle had muted into almost nothing. His ears ached, probably wind-chill from being up so high for so long as dusk loomed upon the giant city. Darth Anark didn’t know exactly how much time had passed but he guessed at least an hour or so. ​

​

The voice? ​

​

No, just a voice. The voice of the Emperor, it had been droning as he lay and let the grogginess fade but only when he pulled himself off the ground and staggered to his feet did he hear it. He hadn’t caught all of the Dark Lord’s monologue but the parts that he did hear were music to his ears. They had been triumphant, they had captured the jewel and better yet, it’s Empress. This was the beginning of a new era. ​

​

‘I shall begin by appointing Lord Anark as Sith Overlord of Coruscant, charged with restoring the systems defences and reconstruction efforts.'​

​

This triggered an unstoppable grin on the young Sith’s face. The first time in his life that he had been appointed or been trusted with responsibility of anything significant. And to be addressed over an open channel that thousands would hear not just by his Sith name but Lord. The grin faded quickly into a grimace as he was hit by a pain in his gut and various other places on his body that probably required urgent medical attention. The pain also reminded him to be cautious and not take today’s victory for granted, things could be turned inside out just as easily. ​

​

Anark noted the Emperor’s instructions and made a decision to head to Moraband to assemble with his kin. He walked to the edge of the balcony and peeked his head over. Tarkana’s body still lay lifeless far below, though he was reluctant to admit it to himself the sight sunk his heart. He tore his gaze away and flagged down an allied shuttle hovering close to the building, it turned around and made its way swiftly towards his position.​

​

The short jump from the rooftop onto the shuttle caused more pain than it should have in his abdomen, broken ribs could be afoot here. A soldier approached him.​

​

“Lord Anark, we were just about to put down the landing platform for you.” ​

“I’m pressed for time, set coordinates for Moraband.”​

​

The man’s face went rigid. ​

​

“Sir, we have been instructed to begin reconstruction efforts under your supervision.​

​

“I know, I require medical attention and then I must meet with my Master but I will be back here very soon.”​

​

The man looked as though he wanted to argue further but thought better of it.​

​

“Yes, my Lord. A Medical droid will examine you in the back bay. I will tell the pilot to take us out of the system.”​

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Anark gave a nod and made his way to the back of the shuttle.​

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****​

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As he lay on a cold table with a droid hovering above him speaking a language he didn’t recognize, Anark gazed out of the window to his side. He watched as the senate building became smaller and smaller as they ascended into the sky. He saw smoke still rising from the structure and a large gash that he would later learn was the cataclysm Herper left when she entered the building. He thought of all his comrades, wondering if any of them had fallen. If so, their sacrifice would not have been in vain.​

​

As the Droid applied a cooling substance to his face, a thought entered his mind as he felt the ship make the jump to hyperspace and he spoke aloud to the droid…​

“These scars on my face, I’m going to need something to cover them. Permanently.”​

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No Tag​

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IC: Darth Anark
Moraband


Anark was floored by an overwhelming feeling of dread that came racing through the Force as the shuttle broke through the Sith planet's atmosphere.

The blazes was that?...

He stepped toward the landing closed landing platform and pushed a button on it’s keypad to open it. The ramp began to move and the man who had picked him up on Coruscant dived to the Sith’s side screaming, red faced and flustered.

“My Lord! We are still airborne!...”

He was cut off by the sound of high winds as Moraband entered the ship, that familiar smell and temperature that Darth Anark had grown to associate with home. He stepped out onto the landing platform, keeping one hand inside to steady himself as the flustered man growled down the shuttles narrow hallway barking something at the pilot. Anark peeked downward and saw perhaps the most bazaar and unexpected sight he had ever witnessed – an ocean of bodies, thousands… no, millions of them. All moving together in a spectacle that, from where he was, looked like some sort of show at the Coruscant Opera House.

The Force warned him of an imminent danger headed toward the shuttle and out of pure instinct Anark mustered up a lightning-fast force pull, yanking the man who was in the middle of shouting instructions to the pilot in front of him to use as a human shield. Blaster bolts punctured the entirety of the poor man’s midsection in a matter of seconds as his body went into a violent spasm, riddled with smoldering gashes. The blasts had been shot from the strange crowd below. These… things were armed.

Anark caught the man’s lifeless body as it fell backwards and shouted into the corpses ear, competing with the loud hum of the shuttle, sprays of spit accompanying the words as they came out…

“That was a close one Captain! I was almost blown to bits!”

He tossed the carcus overboard and retreated swiftly back inside. A voice hollered from the cockpit.

“My Lord, there’s a Star Destroyer orbiting above. We may be targeted.”

This was all so sudden and confusing.


What to do next? What to do?...

OOC: Sinrebirth Darth_wanderguard Lady Belligerent I think I'm in need of a tag/some guidance here. My fault for being absent recently before the GM updates went up. Not sure if I'm best heading to the mountains or the temple... ​

 

IC: Lord Manticore
Hyperspace, en route to Moraband

He was in meditation and still had the respirator when he felt an approaching presence. It wasn’t the Emperor. That was a presence he could not mistake and none could imitate. Besides, Darth Insipid had departed the medbay some moments ago.

His eyes were still closed when the heard the pneumatic hiss of the opening doors.

Silence filled the room for a moment, only the faint hum of the ship’s engines could be heard. Finally, Manticore slowly opened his eyes to see the keshiri female pilot from before, assessing him silently. She regarded his bandaged torso, shoulder, leg and arm. They all had patches of batca fastened on them. He imagined he did not look so menacing at the moment.

Manticore snorted at that thought.

In truth, he was mildly surprised to see her, as he assumed she’d been killed during the battle against Shado Vao and his failed jedi incursion. In the end, the Vapid had been utterly destroyed, and everyone aboard along with it.

Manticore reached the rebreather with his right hand and removed it. He took a stabilizing breath once he did so.

“Who’s piloting the ship…?” he rasped at her drily.

The bare chested zabrak rose from where he sat, not really waiting for a response. His black and red tattoos were now visible, and the feral beast emblazoned upon his body seemed to move, as his chiseled muscles rippled. His countless scars were also there, but not so easily perceived.

Manticore moved towards a table where his tattered clothes were neatly folded. Unfortunately, any spare garments he may have had, were lost and become stellar dust, just like the Vapid.

The Sith Lord began to dress himself with languid, yet smooth movements.

“Is there something you need?” he asked flatly.

Before any answer could be made, the com to the medbay chimed.

’Get to the ready room immediately. Now.'

It was Emperor Insipid. He spoke in earnest, and his tone was dire. Manticore’s eyes narrowed as he stretched out further with his force senses, hoping to glean something…anything.

Nodding curtly to the keshiri female, Manticore moved to an adjacent desk and picked up his communicator, then opened a channel to continue listening to the Emperor as he left the medbay with alacrity, slipping on his shredded cloak as he went.

The zabrak listened to the beginning of the Emperor’s report, and within moments, he entered the lounge, where the Emperor and a Senator sat together. With one gaze, Manticore summed up the worth of the weaselly man. His nature radiated from him like a fetid stench, but Manticore managed to keep his expression neutral. Instantly, he could see that this man was entangled in the Emperor’s web of intrigue.

And so it was.

To the Emperor, he offered an acknowledging bow of his head. Darth Insipid spared not a moment as he continued to explain the situation.

So, the Sith were under attack once again, and the Emperor wished to hear what counter-offensives could be enacted. Time was of the essence, as always.

“They won’t be expecting anyone to infiltrate their orbiting ship, or be bold enough to do so. We can destroy it or commandeer it to our purposes.” Manticore’s fiery eyes shifted as he spoke, while he visualized a quick responsive measure.

“Recovering the Golan stations could turn the tide almost instantly, especially since the Master Codes are in your possession; at least that is my assumption.” He gave a quick glance to the Emperor, then continued.

“Once recovered, we can support the Temple from orbit and obliterate enemy ground forces…”

“…But I will need a good pilot to get me to the enemy vessel.”

Manticore suppressed a smirk and turned to make ready to move to the ready room.


Tag: @Sinrebirth, @HanSolo29, @corinthia, @Darth Master Titus

 

IC: Darth Kronos

The carbonite soldiers neared him with every second that passed. Each of their blasters were raised, in a sort of robotic and practiced way. They all had the same form when walking: slowly moving with their legs partially crouched for supreme tactics. So, it was the usual gang of troopers. Kronos could them out easily. He gripped his lighsaber, this time with two hands, and waited for them to fire.

He didn't get the chance to even kill one. Before he even knew it, the largest soldier there was gripped by a powerful amount of Force energy. His head seemed to have literally fallen apart because of it, like some piece of glass. It was that easy. Every other trooper was taken out quickly, either by a barrage of Force Lightning, or a simple Force Push to the side. Within moments, they were eliminated.

Out of the rubble, dust, and fresh dead bodies, walked Zalen. She looked tired, annoyed, which was completely understandable given the situation they were in now. Kronos moved on, as he walked over to the room where Esmerelda was. He yanked the curtains open. Inside, he found Rullus, on the floor, riddled with holes. Smoke rose from his body. Kronos could see through the wounds, which instantly cauterized. Next to him, lied a hurt, but thankfully still alive, Esmerelda. He reached down, offering a hand up. His eyes would lock with hers for a brief moment.

He then turned to Zalen, their savior. "Thanks," he paused. "What now?"

TAG: Lady Belligerent Sinrebirth Darth_wanderguard

 

IC: Darth Syren
Sith Temple

Syren was sitting on the cold floor, her back leaning against the small bed with bare legs crossed in front of her. She had attempted sleep but was far too restless, her nerves making it impossible to remain still for long. She had paced for a while and had even tried to meditate, but failed miserably. She had never enjoyed the practice, anyways.

Looking around in the dim light, the apprentice knew it would take some time to adjust to her new “home”, if she could yet call it that. While this was certainly less chaotic than the recent events on Hoth, the abrupt setting she found herself in still left her feeling incredibly anxious… even though it was exactly what she wanted. Now that the dust had settled there were new people and situations to worry about, of course. There was always something to worry about. Such was the way of her mind.

There were a few select methods she would utilize to calm herself in these types of situations, destructive as they may be. In this moment though she did not have any hard liquor in hand, her bed was empty, and prowling the halls looking for a target to kill at random would most likely be frowned upon by the Sith that had just welcomed her into their ranks. There was just one other thing to try…

A small smirk appeared on Syren’s lips as her dark eyes moved down to the ground in front of her. There a pair of plain-looking vibroblades had been placed, the weapons that were second only to her lightsabers. In the mayhem that ensued after her awakening, she had not thought once about them. She hadn’t had the chance to. Earlier, as she had hastily undressed before her shower she rediscovered them where they always were; safely hidden within their interior boot holsters.

Gazing affectionately at the simply forged twin blades, she reached for the one whose hilt was marked by a deep gash that ran its full length. Tenderly lifting it into her hands, fingers traced the ugly wound as one would caress a lover. This blade she favored over its counterpart for one simple reason.

A flash of a memory filled her mind as her grip tightened on the handle. She could vividly recall the sensation of its razor sharp edge as it slid through skin and muscle, grazing bone, stabbing down into her father’s chest. These blades had been his in life and she had claimed them as her own when she had taken that life from him.

Her eyes closed as the rush of past emotions flooded her mind and body, sending a shiver down her spine. This dark thrill had an immediate soothing effect as she breathed deep and focused on every detail of the monumental act, running through it in slow motion. Over time, the dominating anxiety and nerves eased and lessened until they were no more.

Letting out a heavy breath, Syren opened her eyes and smiled. Reveling in one’s first kill, especially someone like herself who took pride in every life she had taken, had always given her an overwhelming sense of control and focus. It calmed her like nothing else could.

Much better.

Grudgingly shifting her thoughts to things much less invigorating, Syren took in the pile of clothes she had gladly discarded on the floor upon entering her new chambers. She had put it off long enough. She was clean and her long hair had been fixed into a simple but elegant braid that hung over the front of her right shoulder, so it was time to dress.

She rolled her eyes in amused annoyance.

Standing and placing the vibroblades on her mussed up bed covers, she was in mid-step when blaring alarms suddenly sounded from all around, causing her to almost jump out of her skin. A voice bellowed:

Attention all occupants. This is not a drill. The great temple is under attack. Repeat: this is not a drill. All hangars are under siege. Do not attempt launch.

She swallowed hard and brought her hands up to her chest to feel out her heartbeat. Steady now. Keep calm.

The temple… under attack? How could that be? There was a soft rumble under her feet, the vibrations convincing her of the terrible truth. The chaos was not over, it was beginning anew. Or maybe it would simply never end.

The voice came about again, shouting over the continuous wail of the sirens:

Multiple breaches. Hangar West is lost. Repeat: Hangar West is lost. All non-combat personnel evacuate to lower levels via Central Foyer.

Snapping into motion, she knew it was time to go and to once again embrace the chaos.

Lunging at the pile of clothes on the floor, she quickly grabbed the first pair of pants she could find and yanked them on. The plain tank top she had on would have to remain; there was absolutely no time to fuss with changing.

“Kriff it”, she said as she threw on her belt, clipped her sabers and zipped her boots, blades snug inside their holsters.

Moving to the door, Syren placed her hands on either side of her face as she pressed an ear against the hard surface. She heard nothing over the alarms, but as she reached out through the Force, she sensed…

Tugging open the door a small margin, her eyes peered through the crack to see her Master moving past, dressed quite elegantly. Self-consciously adjusting her top, Syren didn’t wait for Lady Arach to acknowledge her and crept out into the corridor to follow.

Moving in step behind the dark-haired woman, she stayed close to the wall and kept eyes on the opposite direction.

“Master,” she whispered. No answer.

Continuing at the High Lord’s heels as they made a turn down another vacant hallway, Syren’s hands hovered over her saber hilts as her body began to tingle with anticipation. She could sense a growing threat, a danger they were heading towards or perhaps they were now surrounded by it. The apprentice tried again for answers.

“Master, do we have a plan? Who is attacking the temple?”

They had come to a stop at a corner. Lady Arach appeared to be immersed in intense concentration, so Syren peered around the young woman and down the adjacent passage. Close by stood a group of soldiers, their armor made of mirrored chrome. The enemy. Moving back to cover, she pressed her back to the wall and slid to a crouch as her keen eyes darted about. Moving a hand to the outside of one of her boots, she placed it over where she knew a single blade would be.

She remained calm, steady, focused… and waited for instructions.

TAGS: Moonspun Dragon Darth_wanderguard

 

The Lorekeeper
Great Library, Sith Temple

He had not gotten too far with his treasured broken glass window cradled in his withered hands when he heard the commotion. "Kill them. Then burn it all" Within this library he heard all that was said, there were no secrets to the Lorekeeper here.

"Then burn it all"

"burn it all"

"burn"

His fear was intense. This was more than his Library, more than his home. This was everything. The knowledge. The history. This must be preserved, at all cost. To lose it, it would be a crippling blow to the Empire.

It would be worse to the Lorekeeper.

Darth Andeddu whispered in his mind, his anger burned white hot, urging him to act. He had no way of knowing when he dropped the glass, no longer caring about it at all, or when he started to run but without thought his feet carried him towards where he last saw the Ithorian, with a speed and nimbleness that seemed out of place from a person who looked like the old sorcerer he quickly made his way through the stacks.

They would have no way of knowing he was there, his presence and movement were concealed through the Force. He had almost reached the location when he heard a powerful sonic scream followed by a crash, he feared the worst.

Coming into view his first thought was to ensure the holocrons were still safe, seeing they were he next located the Ithorian who was now facing three of the remaining chrome plated soldiers, then he saw their flames.

Andeddu was enraged, an image flashed in the Lorekeeper's mind.



He could feel the very heat of the illusionary flames, he could see the enraged Darth Andeddu wielding those flames against those who sought to steal his knowledge, his power.

"Give them fire Lorekeeper" He urged silently, the sorcerer agreed eagerly. He intended to unleash hell.

All his rage, all his anger, his frustration and fear fueled his power. His new power, he has not yet mastered the ability to mesh the powers of Andeddu, Cruor, and the Sickness, but his mentor was making great progress, and the pupil was powerful indeed.

His mind assaulted the remaining trespassers, his rage so broadly focused that it encompassed the Ithorian and red and purple glowing holocron and they saw his fury just as did their enemies.

Great pillars of flame erupted from the ground near the Lorekeeper and raced outward, seemingly encompassing everything it touched. To the mind's eye the flames consumed all they touched, the power of the illusions were such that the heat seemed real, the burns painful.

Within this maelstrom of flame the Lorekeeper stood un-moving, his head and shoulders hunched slightly as his hair hung before his eyes and face, eerily calm in the center of the storm. Creepy calm. Like he is going to slowly stalk you all night and kill you, but not before he kills everyone you love including your dog kind of creepy.

Yeah, that kind of creepy.

The flames responded to his will, they didn't touch the new Sith nor did their heat scorch the skin though they felt it's intensity.

The remaining intruders however, they would not fair so well. The illussion was so real that burnt flesh could be detected.

Tag: Darth_wanderguard Mitth_Fisto DarthIshyZ

 

Combo with Halle Dray

IC: Darth Octavius, Lady Kwea


Kwea gazed at herself in the mirror with a smile. She was wearing a sparkly, black, floor length, sheath dress with a train. It was sleeveless and high-necked. She had painted her lips a ruby red and her hair was in a low bun with a gold chain surrounding her head which was connected to a oval shaped ruby set into diamond shaped gold filigree that was dropping on her forehead. She felt a tingle in the Force and suddenly a message came over the Temple speaker system: Attention all occupants. This is not a drill. The great temple is under attack. Repeat: this is not a drill. All hangars are under siege. Do not attempt launch.

"Kriff! There can never be any nice nights here can there?" Kwea yelled.

While she was hurrying to grab her lightsaber and shove her feet into her boots that she had picked, another message came through the speaker: Multiple breaches. Hangar West is lost. Repeat: Hangar West is lost. All non-combat personnel evacuate to lower levels via Central Foyer.

This was serious. Her comm gave a beep and Haretisch's voice came through: "Artillery has a fix on every hangar and they control the great hall. If they open the main gate it's over - we have to get in there and clear them out. Octavius, Kwea, make for the great hall through the kitchen, and I'll meet you inside. Arach, take Syren and head to Hangar West - we won't get a handle on the corridors until we stop the flow of reinforcements. A familiar face is there and has a plan. Zalen, something blew up in the infirmary and I want to know if it's still viable. Emperor, Dawn Herald, Consort, what are your locations?"

Kwea grabbed her comm and two blaster pistols from were they sat on her desk and strapped them to her utility belt. Slipping that around her waist, she kept her lightsaber in her hand. She quickly checked the mirror and smirked. At least she's be fighting in style. She unclipped the hook on the waist of her dress and pulled the skirt away to reveal her leggings.. which happened to be a bit fancier than her normal ones and were covered in sparkles from the dress. Glancing around her room, she made sure she had everything and made for the door.

Octavius stumbled outside his room while the message still filled the whole building. "This is not a drill. The Temple is under attack." Octavius asked himself if the bloodshed would ever come to an end, the Jedi had sent him from one battlefield to the next and he had joined the Sith to escape this life. How naive he had been to think this would ever change. He had just finished preparing himself for the feast as the alarm started everywhere around him. Octavius heard the blaster fire in the distance and asked himself who attacked them. Had the federation mobilized it´s strike forces for a counterattack? If so than Octavius wondered why he didn´t felt any Jedi around him.

His thoughts returned to the moment and he thanked himself for strapping his body armor over his black dress uniform. The Sith assumed he would need it before the battle was over. The hasted through the corridor to Kweas room, his master had ordered them to fight their way to the kitchens together. When he reached the door of Kweas quarter he hammered with his fist against it, hoping Kwea was still there and okay. "It´s me, Octavius." He shouted over the constant repeating of the alarm.

Kwea quickened her steps to the door when someone began banging on it. She heard Octavius' voice shout, "It's me, Octavius!" She opened the door and glared at him.

"I'm right here. Stop banging on my door, it may attract these idiots who disturbed the evening," Kwea said.

Looking at him she realized he was quite a mess. He had armour strapped over his dress uniform. Obviously he had been trying to get ready when the comm message came in.

When the door opened Octavius saw Kwea in what had been a dress. She had ripped of the skirt and revealed the leggings she wore beneath. Her hair was tied into a bun and she wore the diadem he had crafted for her. For a moment he remembered her asking him to create a replica of the diadem she had originally worn as a highborn daughter. It had been one of the better days in the Sith temple, as he was able to create a beautifully piece of jewelry instead of fighting for his life. Octavius grinned about her comment, "Nice dress." He responded with a smile.

Then he concentrated on the task before them, he assumed the whole temple was filled with enemies soldiers and they had to stop them from opening the main gates. Octavius assumed that there where dozens of enemy soldiers between them and the main hall.

And time ran out. Octavius hated the idea of going without a plan but they had no other choice. "I suggest we take the main corridors to the kirchen then we can take some of them out on the way. But it won't be easy."

Raising her brow when Octavius complimented her dress, she was secretly glad he thought she looked good. Every time she wore her diadem, she was glad he had replicated the one she had worn long ago. He was so unlike most Sith she knew. Of course she wasn't the type of person to give thanks out loud. Kwea listened to him as he told her his plan.

"Nothing is ever easy, Octavius. Especially not around here," she responded, "Let's do it. Quietly though," she said as she began to creep down the corridor.

Kwea didn't ignite her lightsaber so the enemy wouldn't hear it's hum and hoped Octavius would do the same.

Octavius kept his lightsaber deactivated knowning the light and the sound would only alert his enemies. He hoped they would encounter groups of separate soldiers they could kill without being noticed by the rest. It was dark inside the temple and that would give them aditional cover.

Octavius feared they might kill their own soldiers as well in the darkness and muttered to Kwea: "Any idea how we distinguish our ally from the enemies?"
If she hadn´t an idea either they probably would just kill everyone, just to be sure. Octavius shivered by the thought of killing his own soldiers, that´s what the Empire did.. and the Sith when he was honest.


Kwea was glad Octavius followed her lead with the lightsaber. He asked her if she knew how to tell the enemies from the allies.

"Anyone who isn't fighting us should be an ally. Use the Force to aid your decision and if you don't know anyone, kill them. We may lose many people but Id rather be responsible for their lives than the destruction of an entire Temple and possibly Empire," she explained.

Reaching the end of the corridor, Kwea motioned for Octavius to join her against the wall as she quietly peeked around the corner to the right.

Octavius sighed at Kwea's answer. They would have to kill any of them he assumed. But it was the only way and in that case Octavius prefered to stay alive. He asked himself it was even a good idea to fight for the temple, maybe it was allready to late to fight the attackers of, they could leave and bomb the planet from the orbit with the fleet.

He recognized that Kwea wore two blaster pistols additional to her lightsaber. For a second he wanted to search for his own blaster but he knew that he would find one soon.
As they reached the end of the corridor Kwea motioned him to join her against the wall while she peeked in the next.
"Can you see anything?" Octavius asked her and prepared himself for the battle to come.

Octavius asked her what she saw and Kwea was surprised at what greeted her around the corner. There were several people advancing towards where they were standing. There was a variety of men and women, different species and human, and they were dressed in dark clothing. Kwea chose to mask her Force presence with her Force Stealth. She wasn't exactly sure what these people were. They could be Sith or Jedi or not Force sensitive at all. All she could tell is that they weren't supposed to be there.

"Octavius, take this blaster. The two of us will run out and open fire. Keep your lightsaber at the ready to deflect their blasts." Remembering his question, she added, "I'm not sure what they are but there's several of them out there. Human and alien as well as wearing dark clothes. Im going to use my Force Stealth so don't be alarmed."

Octavius took the blaster and reached out the force to the enemies approaching them. Kwea was right, it where several soldiers of different species. Was this the federation? Defenenetly not the empire, too many non humans. He nodded to Kwea, than the entered the corridor, using the force to cocentrate he fired his blaster, the plann was simple shooting as much as possible before they could react and than switching to the lightsaber. Octavius thanked the force for his blaster training as he killed two humans and a Twie Lek with the first three shots.

The Sith killed two more enemies before they even reacted and another two as they turned around. The easy part was over as they started to fire and Octavius activted his lightsaber to block the attacs. He was glad that none of they foes had a lightsaber. No Jedi or Sith among them only soldiers. He kept fighting and hoped he would distract them from Kwea using her Force Stealth.

Kwea ran out behind Octavius and began to fire. A few of the enemy went down before they could react but now they were aware of their attackers. Kwea holstered her blaster again and began to twirl her lightsaber. The bright purple arc of her saber swept through two enemies until there were only a few left. Kwea let go of her Force Stealth and used the Force to finish two off.

"Octavius! Finish them off! I'm going ahead to begin getting through the blockade," she yelled, throwing a strong Force push towards the enemy to stall them.

Running through the kitchen entrance, Kwea began to think that these people were some type of Dark Side users. When she had let down her Force Stealth, she had felt a surge of Dark Side energy aside from Octavius' and her own. She grabbed a truffle from a platter that had been made ready for the feast. Popping it in her mouth, Kwea reached the sealed door in the kitchen which led to the Great Hall. She knew that there was a blockade on the other side. Going back to the tray, she grabbed a few more truffles and a chocolate filled pastry. Shoving those in her mouth one by one, she paced in front of the door. Reaching out in the Force, Kwea felt several presences on the other side.

"Hey you in there! You busy or can I come in?" she yelled while knocking on the door with the handle of her lightsaber.

Octavius continued slaughtering the soldiers around him as Kwea sprinted in the direction of the kitchen. The sith felt how the darkside fled through his veins, his old battle reflexes awoke as he stabbed a human on the ground through the back. He turned around and threw a few soldiers against the wall that tried to flee. In seconds he was the only one alive and his thoughts ordened themselves. He took a deep breath as his view drifted over the battlefield. Octavius scolded himself, for a Moment he had lost control over his emotions, that shouldn´t have happened, he had to concentrate, he shouldn´t follow his anger.

But why not? He wasn´t a Jedi any more, he shouldn´t suppress his emotions all the time. Why was he so afraid of giving into his anger? Kwea did too and she didn´t seemed to be a mindless killer becuase of it. The thought of Kwea brought him back into the present. He followed Kwea through the corridor, she had already entered the kitchen and seemed to enjoy some of the biscuits there. Octavius realized how dry his throat was and took a swallow from an wine bottle, that looked as if it stood here since the days of Darth Revan.

He turned to Kwea who was hammering against the door to the main hall. "We are supposed to met our master here. Shouldn´t we wait for him?" Octavius was supprised that Haretisch wasn´t already here, he just hoped his master was still out there. If not they where stuck here among hunderts of enemies.

Tag: Halle Dray, Darth_wanderguard