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

Battle of Moraband GM Update 1 of 3

IC: Darth Kralkus -- Corridor Near West Foyer

Darth Kralkus looked up as Syren and Arach rounded the corner, and hopped to his feet. "Wonder I did, if lost you were," he grunted. Then he peeked around the corner to spy another wave of chrome troopers exiting the main hangar doorway and opening fire on a pair of temple guards. "Keep coming they will, until blocked, their path becomes.

"Hmmmm," he hummed low in his throat, and poked at each woman's sides with his lightsaber hilt, studying them carefully. "Small you both are, like me. Fit, you will," he nodded, and looked to a maintenance hatch on the wall that was shared with the hangar. Beyond the hatch was a short shaft, no longer than the wall was thick, and another hatch on the hangar side.

It would be a comfortable fit for Kralkus - but most humans would find it snug. Luckily both of his comrades were lithe. With a flick of his clawed fingers, Kralkus ripped both hatches from the wall. The result was a small but adequate hole which led into a quieter corner of the hangar.

"Destroy the entryway, we must," he announced, and gestured to a small crate nearby, filled to the brim with palm-sized explosive charges. Atop the pile lay a remote detonator. He had originally checked the munitions out of the armory for another purpose entirely, but that didn't matter now.

"Two charges, for each of you. Plant them low along the edges of the entryway, you must. Handle the top, I will, and draw as much fire as I can. Move quickly and quietly!"

With that, he grabbed four charges and the detonator, stuffing them into his robes, and dove headfirst through the hole in the wall. He wriggled out into hangar, and hopped up onto a catwalk, then sprinted off with blaster fire scorching everything in his wake.

TAG: Moonspun Dragon, QueenSabe7

~

IC: Darth Haretisch -- Great Hall

At the peripheries, Octavius and Kwea were deflecting scattered blaster bolts and cutting through the enemy, swiftly pushing in to the center of the room.

For his part, the Night Herald was doing the same, but began to wonder at a more efficient way of clearing the invaders rather than cutting them down one by one. He spied the gargantuan crystal chandelier hanging from the high vaulted ceiling , and then his eyes sparkled as he watched the horde of chrome troopers begin to reform ranks and huddle into the center of the room. In only a moment or two their return fire would most likely be enough to overwhelm his comrades, and possibly Haretisch himself.

Propelled by the force, he launched himself high and grasped at the chandelier, causing it to sway as he pulled up to perch on top of it. Directly beneath, the enemy was clustered and gathering themselves, as were Kwea and Octavius who continued to push center-wise. They too were in the line of fire - but he trusted that they were smart and quick enough to move.

Drawing his lightsaber across the chain which suspended the great monstrosity, he rode it down and reflected on how angry Insipid would be about the chandelier he had personally purchased.

TAG: Anedon, Halle Dray

~

In a quiet corner of the basement, Darth Soccmel was leaving a small bloodstained room. He left behind the remnants of Darth Talon... Still mostly intact. It hadn't exactly been a fair fight, as he had gotten the jump on her, but the lack of principle was worthwhile given what she had told him in exchange for a merciful end. His ability to inflict pain was a handy one at times.

His assignment, for weeks now, had been to track her. And now that she was dead, whether he had finally taken the liberty himself or done the deed at the order of the triumvirate was irrelevant. The basement shook in the wake of the battle happening above - there were more important matters at hand.

In her final agony-filled moments, the Twi'Lek had willingly given up the truth of why the Carbonite Army hadn't been fired on by the automated defenses - equipment in the signal relay room was disabled and, in the absence of a connection to temple control, the turret system had defaulted to inactive mode just before the invasion. It was a safety feature in design, but one which had been skillfully compromised and turned into a method of sabotage by Talon's agents.

The relay room itself wasn't large, and most of the space was taken up by the equipment that bridged the turrets to the control room upstairs. What remained in free space was only a few meters wide, and lined with maintenance panels and a master power switch.

The invaders hadn't really damaged the equipment, only powered it down, as Eranikus had been intent on having a working temple after the Triumvirate's minions had been cleansed from it. And this presented an opportunity for Soccmel. The room was under heavy guard but, with a lot of cunning and a bit of brute strength, it wouldn't be impossible to liberate and restore it to proper function. Of what benefit it could be at this point for the turrets to work wouldn't be precisely clear, but it was what he could do and it certainly wouldn't make things any worse.

As it stood, the room wasn't close but not far either, through a few passages and around a few corners. Talon had stated that five chrome troopers guarded it - though it was safe to assume she had understated that detail as a final act of defiance, even as she begged for death. There were a few options; he could storm the room head-on and probably win but almost certainly lose a piece of himself in the process, or he could take a bit longer and look for a power panel to disable the lighting. There was bound to be a breaker box somewhere nearby, and darkness would be beneficial to getting the job done cleanly.

Once there, he had only to flip a power switch and, potentially, save the day.

But that was secondary to the guard patrol that was now coming around the corner a few meters to his left - a pair of chrome troopers brandishing blaster rifles. They spotted him and quickly took aim. This would need to be quiet, or the guards in the relay room would be much more difficult to surprise.

TAG: panta1978






Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

GM Approved. Darth Soccmel's Character Sheet.

------------------------

Name: Darth Soccmel (born Panta)
LEVEL: 21
Age: 38 (standard years)
Sex: Male
Species: Human (Race: Umarell)
Occupation: Sith Lord
Height: 1.85 m
Weight: 90 kg


BIOGRAPHY:

An impenetrable mist was covering the endless planes of Planet Phelsin. Unsurprisingly, since winters in this world are always harsh. Sat on the Southern bank of the Great River, Panta was staring at the spooky landscape while meditating on the recent events. He had just been kicked out of his home town by his own people, but he was feeling neither regret nor remorse for what he had done.

But what happened to him, the "Mr. Perfect" admired by his friends and beloved by his Masters? Were some dark forces tampering his since then pristine heart leading him to a dangerous path? Or maybe was he starting comprehending the truth?

The truth was that his entire life had been a lie. He had been deceived by the Council of The Elder Umarells of Phelsin, that only saw him as a powerful resource for their battle against the so called "Galactic Empire". But why should Panta take part in that war? And why should he fight for this Federation? Were they any better than the Sith he had learnt to despise since when he was a child? And those Knights - Jedi are called - what did they do to improve his people's conditions? Nothing. Instead, they came to their world bringing their war, exploited the natural resources to feed their armies, and treated Phelsinians like slaves. Because that's the way the Federation works in the Outer Rim. This is no Coruscant, and you can even too easily see all the hypocrisy of a system design to protect few systems by enslaving countless others.

"One day the war will be over" - they said - "And the dark menace brought by the Sith will forever be ditched". But who were they kidding? Jedi were responsible for all the sufferings Phelsineans were facing. And only after having seen too many friends lose their lives following those lunatic light-saber wielders did Panta realise he couldn't put up with this meaningless manslaughter anymore. Sick and tired of this nonsense, he finally found the courage to do what he should have done years before, and tried to set up a rebellion to overthrow those puppets - clearly manoeuvred by the Jedi - of the Council of The Elders, and finally restore peace in his home land. But so brainwashed were his fellow citizens that nobody followed him. Betrayed by even his closest friends, Panta became a renegade, forced to leave the City and to live on the run.

Hunted by his own people, Panta decided the old guy he used to be was dead. Now all he wanted was justice. The justice neither the Federation nor the Jedi were able to provide him with. He realised the only way to end the spiral of violence that was swallowing his planet was to destroy those so-called "Warriors of Light". And he wanted to be the one to write the word end in their book. But how? "There is only one way", he finally admitted. "Like only darkness can destroy the light, only a Sith can wipe out a Jedi. And I want to be a Sith".

This is the story of how the rise of Darth Soccmel began. The once timid and sympathetic guy was devoured by the fire of the passion for the Dark Side. His old Umarell name "Panta" itself now means nothing to him, as since the day he left Phelsin to join the Sith Accademy he was given a new name, a new identity, even a new life.

In this remote place surrounded by the halo of evil created by the Master of the Dark Side that dwell there, Soccmel has been training with the greatest Dark Lords in the galaxy for years. After patiently waiting in the wings for such a long time, the day he has been fancying since when he joined the Darkness has finally come, and it is even more glorious than he has ever dreamt of. He has now climbed most of the Sith ladder; no more a Peon, no more an Apprentice or Underlord, but now that he is ready to fully embrace the tenebrous path he has decided to devote his life to, he can finally call himself a true Lord of the Sith. And as a member of this elite of unlimitedly powerful warriors he is now ready to join his siblings in the glorious battle against the hypocritical Federation that has ruined his life.


PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:

Darth Soccmel is now a tall guy, with a pretty face in spite of his baldness and pale skin. Conflicting emotions billow out of his green eyes. You can see the dazzling sight of a loyal man who seeks justice but has learnt how painful life can be. Neither muscular not fat, judging from his appearance you can tell you're watching an athletic and dexterous man. He typically wears a hooded robe and a red and blue cloak made of precious garments and adorned with tiny precious stones.

 

IC: Kwea Acantha

Kwea reflected the bolts that were flying at her and realized that the troopers were beginning to reform their ranks in the center of the room. That was where Octavius and her were supposed to be making a path to. She saw Haretisch Force Jump onto the top of the beautiful chandelier that the Emperor himself that purchased recently. Recognizing what he was going to do, Kwea fired off a few shots with her blaster and, with her lightsaber twirling, ran to a corner of the room and slid under a table. The Night Herald cut the chain that held the chandelier and rode it to the ground.

Her eyes twinkling in merriment, Kwea remembered a younger Lorelei doing that to one of the light fixtures in the Jedi Temple. It had been nothing compared to this gigantic masterpiece but it had still been fun and gotten her into big trouble. Of course, the other apprentices had thought it was funny until their masters had scolded them.

The few troopers who weren’t dead were now firing into her little hideout. Slipping out from under the table, she picked it up and taking a running start, threw it into the middle of the group. Aiding the throw with a Force Push from her left hand, Kwea called her saber into her right and began deflecting the bolts once again. Either scattered or knocked out, the troopers were confused by the table now filled with smoking holes.
Sparing her eyes for a moment, Kwea looked around for Octavius before redirecting her eyes to the idiots who had disrupted the feast she had been hoping for. Her top, which had been the bodice of her dress, was thankfully still intact. Her boots were a bit scuffed but she could fix that easily. She skipped closer to the dwindling group and sliced through the blaster of a soldier, her eyes glowing golden and her mouth in a sweet smile, chuckling as she sliced through his torso next.

Tags: Anedon, Darth_wanderguard

 

Darth Hades
Desert, Moraband

"We fight."​

​

That was all Hades heard before he ignited his lightsabers and closed off everything but the enemy. He closed his eyes and imagined he was plunged in darkness.

Nights in the Jungle growing up had been teeming with life, but the light couldn't cut through the thick trees and vegetation. He had spent his nights in total darkness nearly, and when there was light, it only cast long impenetrable shadows. One thing that he had learned, though, was the fact that the Force could connect everything, and if you concentrated, you could almost make a clear map of everything around you. The Jungle and its life had taught him this.​

​

He'd heard of others who learned from the world around them valuable lessons concerning the Force, but this one was by far the greatest he had learned. Now focused, he sent his awareness outward and could feel the pings in the darkside, the power rising, flowing and ebbing around the undead. ​

​

Hades' eyes flashed open at once and he looked like a man possessed, he twirled his sabers, once, twice and then he smiled. I will slow them down. Stay here and fight, even unto death if you must, for the Glory of the Sith!​

​

He then dashed forward, his body and speed enhanced by the darkside. He hit the undead at a speed that should have been unsafe, but it was well controlled. He whirled like a spinning top, all light and movement. His lightsabers moved in flared arcs that were hard to keep track of as he put his skills with Ataru and Jar'Kai to the test of their limits.​

​

He thrust his saber forward into one, slashed to the side into another. He didn't stand still. Stop and he would be dead, but moving, jumping, he was faster than the lumbering corpses. ​

​

He leapt backwards and landed in a crouch and then fired lightning into the front line. He wanted nothing more than to fight the rest of the day, until he could not move for days. He had missed this.​

​

​

TAG: Lady Belligerent, WookieeRage, Darth Rozic, Snokers

 

IC: Darth Octavius


Octavius reflected the next blaster bolts aimed him and enjoyed the moment in which the soldiers in front of him realized they would die through their own shoots. Octavius asked himself how many of his enemies had died with this thought in their mind. A lot certainly but there where always new ones who made the same mistake. He had been a soldier for most of his life. Only seconds before the chandelier had crashed to the group and killed dozens of enemy soldiers but there were still a lot of them in the hall. Octavius wasn´t sure if it had been his master or Kwea but he didn´t cared about it in this moment. Use the surroundings as a weapon, his master had told him in one of the first battles they fought together. He didn´t even remembered the planet. Following her advice Octavius raised a few sharp meat knives, made to cut bantha steaks, with the force and threw them at his enemies. They cut through the light armor of the soldiers like a lightsaber through flesh. Octavius heard the screams and allowed himself a grin. The slaves haven´t cleaned the knives for nothing. The Sith jumped over a banquet desk and regretted the evening he could have had. But he was a soldier and this was his world. He threw a look at Kwea and saw the bloodlust in her eyes. This wasn´t a battle anymore, it was a slaughter. He had no idea who this men where but the fact that they wore Sith uniforms made it strangely easier for him to send them to their graves between the chairs and plates. The death feasts today, and we are his servants. He killed another soldier with his blade and shoot a second with the blaster Kwea had given to him. The Jedi would call him uncivilized but he didn´t cared in this moment. The next soldier aiming for him was crushed as Octavius slammed a chair into his upper body. He felt how the man died and jumped in the air to avoid the next hits. He felt like in simulation as he landed in a group and cut them down ins seconds. "Say hi to my father inhell." He muttered as the headless corpses collapsed around him. The dark side run stronger through him than even before and Octavius decided not to fight against it. Instead he embraced this part of himself. The part who he fought on thousands of worlds, from Corellia to Nar Shaddaa and on every inhabited world along the hydian way. From the core to the vast regions of the outer rim he had fought and killed. And there had been a part of him, a part that now became stronger with every foe he send to his death, that had enjoyed every minute of it.

Tag: Darth_wanderguard, Halle Dray

 

Combo Post with Snokers
IC: Darth Ravenous, Darth Anark
Mountain Pass, Moraband, (accompanied by Darth Hel, Darth Hades)

“The Emperor has ordered that we defend this pass," Anark felt fear in Hel’s voice, overturned by a fierce defiance against that very fear “If we fail, the Temple will be lost. So, we will not fail. Prepare yourselves, we don't have long now. We need to descend and meet them. The woman didn’t stop for breath before she began to descend down a rocky slope, manoeuvring across the harsh terrain with feline ease.

Anark wasn’t sure what to make of Hel, he had known her for approximately four minutes but already he liked her, admired her courage. But he also felt a deep sense of unease around her, his mind didn’t want to trust her. He’d experienced this feeling many times before though and he had been wrong just as many times as he’d been right so he attempted to shift the thought to the back of his mind. This proved difficult with the audible phantom voice in his ear saying…

You can’t trust her. You can’t trust any of these strange characters.

“Shut up!” Anark barked aloud, shaking his head and grunting in annoyance as he began his own journey down the mountain slope. The voice had ruined the high of touching a real-life Wookiee. It was not going to distract him during this mission, he would not allow it to.

He came to a ledge with a vertical drop between them and the undead army. Anark peered over and was hit by a rancid odour rising from the sea of bodies below. He turned round to Erron and grabbed the man’s wrist pulling him forward. The young pilot stifled a shriek as he was yanked toward the ledge.

“They smell funny.” Anark exclaimed to the man plainly, one arm outstretched pointing downward. His makeshift mask was fitted with a respirator but the smell of corpses dead for millennia was putrid enough to break through. The Sith grabbed his lightsaber and brought it to life when he saw Lady Hel battling with dark, misshapen figures that had found a way to climb onto her part of the ledge. It wasn’t long before a few jumpers crawled rapidly up his own side. He swung his saber from side to side decapitating two at a time but for every head that rolled, a new set of ravenous creatures leapt up and grasped for purchase. Anark levelled Force push after Force push against them but with each passing moment the intervals between a hit and another springing up were narrowing.

Erron was putting his all into doing his part, he had one eye shut for precision and fired the faulty DL-44, rarely missing a headshot. Anark even witnessed the pilot bite his own tongue a few times in intense concentration. As the young Sith continued to exercise his Force powers in conjunction with hefty lightsaber strikes, his own concentration was broken when he noticed a set of familiar faces in the masses below, two of them.

Time seemed to slow for just a moment as he witnessed Tarkana Sydon walk gracefully among the stampede with eyes locked on him, a plain, indifferent look upon her face. Behind her, his Duros father marching forward. This hallucination was accompanied by an unbearable ringing sound inside his head that brought on a crippling headache.

He was snapped back to reality by Erron’s voice calling his name and urging him to duck down. One of the horde had made its way an inch away from the Sith’s back, he ducked as soon as he heard the pilot who quickly fired a shot which went directly in one of the brutes ears and out the other, it toppled sideways over the ledge and a wet spatter covered Anark’s hood. He got to his feet, touched the back of his head and examined a sticky black goo on his fingers for a moment before he shook it off quickly in disgust. He didn’t thank his savour, there was simply no time. He continued to slash through the attackers to what seemed like no avail.

Watching his three allies move down the pass, the Wookiee impulsively jumped down as well. Augmenting his landing, he used the force to make a shockwave that crippled the undead around his immediate area, he gathered plumes of dusty air as his breath heavied. Focusing on pure Rage the Wookiee looked to his right, where the Brave human was holding his ground. "I will assist you human. A fight you want... And I shall follow!" The Wookiee nodded in approval to the human as he howled, registering that he had his back. Ravenous snapped his saber to life and dismembered the downed undead that his shockwave had faulted.

Anark concealed a grateful smile under his mask as he registered the Wookiee's notion. An idea - a relatively sensible idea in comparison to his usual ones - popped into the Sith's head as he expelled yet more energy, Force pushing the advancing enemy off the cliff edge.

"Ravenous, one of us should be dangled over the ledge to keep them from climbing while we figure out how to survive this! Buy us some time!" Anark regretted saying it as soon as it left his lips but continued. "It should be you because..." 'because it's suicide' he thought... "...because you've got a stronger swinging arm!"

He waited for the Wookiee's response with a sheepish smile cracking under the mask.

Ravenous looked at Anark and immediately picked up the Human under his arm pits. It would not work the other way. Ravenous raised the Human to eye level and let out a howl while smiling. He then completely manhandled Anark upside down and swung him into the horde below.

This prompted a whimper of horror from the human but there was nothing he could do to break the magnificent beast's embrace. He felt his stomach lurch as he was swung from side to side, Ravenous's huge mitt's clutching his boots, keeping him reasonably steady. He cut through the undead like butter as he rotated his scarlet blade, separating heads from their shoulders and stabbing at the ones that got within kissing distance.

Out of nowhere (and to Anark's horror) one particularly broad specimen sporting a partially rotted but otherwise intact body armour and helmet that had no visible weak spots charged towards the upside down Sith with its arms raised and long fingers ready to seize him from his friends grasp. He panicked. "Pull me up! Up! UP!! Hurry!!"

Noticing his Master Hades already engaging in battle, Ravenous quickly pulled the Human up back to eye level. He gazed into the upside down guise of Anark and growled, "We have to buy time, friend.. Will you follow?" The Wookiee gently tossed the Human aside and force leaped out and above the horde. As he did he guided his remaining thermal detonator into an outcropping above. He shifted focus downward and let loose a shockwave once more, in the midst of the horde, crippling the undead in a large radius around Ravenous. As he landed, the detonator ignited, caving the outcropping in on the pass; their battlefield. It narrowed the advance of the undead to a somewhat manageable amount. He looked up at Anark as he chopped two undead completely in half and addressed him with a pleading howl, "We must buy time, that is all.. The force shall free you!" Chopping two more undead heads off in large sweeps. He then motioned Anark to join him, to trust in his words. They would prevail as long as Hel and Master Hades would continue to assist. Anark concurred and joined him.

The two Sith stood side by side in the now narrowed passage with a natural affinity, working in tandem taking turns at slicing top half’s from waists. The two Sith were in sync with one another, gently tapping into the Force to foresee the others move before it happened so the other could make theirs accordingly. Anark let out squeals of delight which were accompanied by maniacal laughter. As much as their lives were in peril, neither of them could deny the thrill.

As the two Sith gleamed with each dismemberment of undead, more would fill the ranks of the other. They would be tired before any help would arrive, if at all. Their sabers 'swooshing' grabbed the lethargic attention of a large cluster of undead against the cliff edge. Ravenous noticed as Anark was wreaking havoc on another cluster away from him. The Wookiee howled to Anark, diverting his attention. Anark slashed for three more decapitations as he turned his attention to Ravenous. "WHAT?!" he annoyingly replied. Ravenous held out his arm nodding for Anark to take it. With a squeal of excitement as he grasped the Wookiee's furry arm, he began to be twirled around. With his free hand, Ravenous lit up his saber and in a whirlwind began blending the undead horde indiscriminately. Anark looked to be euphoric swinging through the air with his saber lit.

It was a crimson carousel of devastation, the two sabers looking like a majestic light show from the impressive speed of the spinning. Anark was in his element. Ten minutes before, his fellow Sith had sparked a twinge of fear within him with it being the first time he'd seen one of the legendary beasts and now he was one with the Wookiee, playing a significant role in pushing back a formidable threat to the home world of the Dark Empire.

The two wrapped up with one wave, then another, then another. Their ranks continuing to be filled by another putrid body. They could not see the other side of the fallen outcropping, nor did they want to as the bodies continued to stack up against each other. Continuously pushing their rotting brethren through the narrowed opening. Ravenous finished with one more rotation and brought Anark back down to the ground. Breathing heavy, the Wookiee filled himself with even more rage; to the point of near insanity and extended his hand out to the opening he narrowed. He let loose a violent force push that knocked over the Undead in a line, temporarily blocking the narrowed pass, he knelt down to give Anark an assisted boost to rain damage down upon the Horde from above.

The human Sith felt fatigue from the day as well as the present situation wash over him but prepared himself for one more burst to knock back as many of the enemy as he could. He used Ravenous’s boost and was catapulted high in the air where he attempted to suspend himself in the air for a moment, a little shaky but he felt he could keep himself in mid-air for a sufficient amount of time. He then mustered all he could from the Force and let a brilliant blue wave of Force lightning burst from his fingertips, the discharge covered a large portion of the aggressors, sending each into a burning spasm and having a chain reaction further and further back in the horde, each one passing the deadly lightning into the other until enough had been downed to buy a good amount of time for consideration of the groups next move. Anark let go of his hold on the Force and fell to the ground landing shakily on his feet.
Tags: Snokers, Lady Belligerent, E. L.Knight, Darth Rozic

 

Combo with Darth Master Titus
The Stardust

So the True Sith had come-- so said Insipid. Hesper clenched her jaw and balled her hands into fists. Could they even call the battle at Coruscant a victory if they were coming home to a second battle on their doorstep? Hesper wanted to buckle at the knee and scream. Fervently, she cast a glance around the room, her eyes scanning over Manticore, Aryan Graul, and Insipid, and resting for the longest moment on Titus, whom it seemed she would be fighting alongside. This existence of theirs-- was it just a never-ending string of battles, deprived of all victory?

As the Emperor doled out the override codes for the Golan stations, Manticore was granted permission to pilot the Emperor's D-type, which left the shuttles and the Hapan detail to she and Darth Titus. Insipid finished his all too rushed debriefing of the current situation on Moraband. Manticore made his way down to the hangar first. Four of the Hapan bodyguards were assigned to both of them, and Hesper folded her arms as the meeting was ended and all dispersed from the ready room. Darth Hesper was shortly on her feet and made her way to the hall, along with four very capable Hapan guards. Hesper nodded to the room as they made their leave, and waited for Titus to come alongside her as they made their way to the hangar. At first glance, Hapans would most certainly be mistaken for humans, but they were not. Titus was taken away by their beauty he almost forgot why they were here. He shook his head as he stood, hoping to wake himself up. It had not been even ten minutes since he was awoken from the bacta tank. Their situation was urgent; he mustn't forget or be distracted so easily.

As he passed the guards he allowed a smile. "So my life is in your hands. Great, I'm in the best of care," Titus joked with the Hapan guards. If they had emotions, they were very good at hiding them. He continued out the door where Darth Hesper stood waiting for Titus. They were to take the two remaining shuttles and the four guards left to their… disposal, if you will. Hesper’s face was like stone—she was resolute. If she wanted victory, it appeared she would have to wrench it from the fingers of these "True Sith".

"Darth Titus," she said as Titus approached. "I don't believe we've formally met."

The woman had a cold, expressionless face, just as the Hapan guards. "Indeed we haven't," Darth Titus offered back. He was still in shooting pain, obviously not fully recovered from previous battles. But he did not wish to appear weak or vulnerable. First impressions were always important with Titus. But honestly he could care less with how others thought of him at this moment. The young Sith Lord let out a stream of curses as his body ached out a jolting pain.

"The perks of being a Sith, I assure you. Pleasure to finally meet you Darth Hesper. Your rise has been quite impressive. Do not die too soon in this battle yet to come." Titus liked annoying his Sith comrades, just as he once did with Darth Manticore and his then Padawan, Robyn, in the Sith Temple Library. Man, did that seem like ages ago.

He did not wait for her reaction to his jest, he continued walking to the hangar. "Let us hurry. We have a job to do."

They finally made their way to the hangar. Titus boarded one of the two Sith shuttles and strapped himself in, four Hapan guards accompanying him on his shuttle, and Hesper did the same. Manticore was probably somewhere in this busy hangar boarding Emperor Insipid's D-Type. Just as Titus was firing up the engines and preparing for flight, and as Hesper was strapping herself into the pilot’s seat-- everything went awry. The Stardust began to shudder and heave violently, overturning and tossing any and everything in the hangar in a thousand different directions. The shuttle Titus was aboard launched upwards and crash landed upside down, caving in the walls of the shuttle. Hesper was shaken about in the cockpit, her safety belts knocking the wind out of her chest as her own shuttle rolled over and skidded. She could hear the crew and the Hapan guards groaning in pain.

"If I crash land one more kriffing time!" Titus was steaming. Wounds began opening again, and the ones that were still open opened even more. The Dark Side healing Titus learned from recent studies would come in handy after this battle for Moraband.

Nearby, Hesper was quickly unbuckling herself, hanging sideways in the canted shuttle cockpit with her neck strained painfully against her seat's straps. She cursed violently as she managed to undo the last strap and fell heavily to the wall-turned-floor, knocking her head against a control console. Quite discombobulated, she stood up, staggered, and took a moment to steady herself as the Stardust settled, her head throbbing painfully from her fall.

Once the Stardust began to still itself, Titus started to regain sense of what was up and what was down. He certainly wasn't up, but stuck in the cockpit which was upside down. Of the Hapan guards in the shuttle, all seemed fine. They didn't speak much so it was hard to tell if they were seriously injured. The ceiling, which was no the floor, was caved in to the point where Titus’ legs were tucked into his chest. Reaching downwards, Titus was able to force push the walls out, giving him space to unbuckle himself, equip his lightsaber and cut a hole in the shuttle to escape. Helping the Hapan guards out of the shuttle, Titus looked for Darth Hesper.

Hesper was just emerging from her toppled shuttle as she spied Titus helping his guards out of a hole in his own shuttle, Titus’ eyes searching the hangar. They locked gazes, and Hesper gave Titus a nod of acknowledgment. She would be on her way to help soon. She then ducked back into her shuttle to help her own Hapan guards out, following as the last one out of the shuttle.

They needed to regroup and find out what exactly happened just now. Off to the exit of the hangar, Titus could sense Manticore preparing for a fight.

Hesper made straight for Titus with her detail in tow, unclipping her lightsaber from her belt and gripping it tightly as she approached Titus, weaving around all kinds of wreckage and overturned crates in the hangar. “What was that collision?” Hesper demanded once she was within earshot of Titus. She could see he was in more pain than before—some of his wounds had reopened. Titus was looking at something beyond Hesper, and so she turned to find what he was looking at. Her eyes then found Manticore, facing a long tunnel, lightsaber ignited. A sinking feeling settled into Hesper’s gut. A fight was upon them, and Manticore would need all the help he could get.

TAG: Sinrebirth Darth Master Titus greyjedi125 HanSolo29

 

IC: Lord Manticore
Wrath of Vader, Missile tunnel

A good number of robed figures were torn asunder as their explosives detonated, one after another, in a great cacophony of sound, light, fire and rent flesh. There were a few who were still ablaze ( but not for much longer), while others succumbed to immolation.

Manticore surveyed the area, as a single flaming foe was left, and was now subject to Emperor Insipid’s interrogation. The burnt man rambled and rattled of a series of names.

By then, both Darth Hesper and Darth Titus had arrived. The zabrak cast a fiery gaze upon them and inclined his head respectfully to both. They had gained a solid measure of his respect during their joint victory on Coruscant.

Still, he remained alert, not trusting their surroundings. The vessel was clearly enemy territory now. Despite that, Manticore continued to listen as he kept a look-out for any more danger. The Sith High Lord recognized the Left Handed Lord when it was mentioned by the man being interrogated. Darth Malkuth had invoked that name as well. At the mention of one Kooroo, the Emperor killed the blithering fool, finally silencing him.

“He's a religious fanatic.” Darth Insipid declared. “ Our foe must have founded the religion via the Kathol and now he's reaped the harvest.” The Emperor looked to Manticore and the others. “Three foes await us, perhaps.”

Peace, IS a lie….

Manticore narrowed his eyes. Three foes? Enemy Sith Lords, no doubt. But who?

Once again, there was much churning in the darkside of the Force. Manticore was familiar with certain currents, nuances and their meaning, but there was an otherness present as well. Not quite like the Yevetha, but definitely more dissonant, much darker in nature, unlike anything he’d felt before.

A shift caused him to turn his head, and there, a ‘Phantom version’ of the Emperor arrived. There was also Re’van, who trailed not far behind. The sovereign triumvir’s phantom felt no less real than his corporeal self, which meant it deserved an equal measure of deference.

“My Emperor.” Manticore greeted, with a solid nod. “ Re’van.” He intoned in acknowledgement.

It was revealed that they had arrived on Re’van’s ship, which was quite an advanced craft, as he recalled. Proof against detection and intruders. As the conversation continued and the fate of Empress Fel and Senator Graul were discussed, Manticore took a single moment to regard the keshiri pilot.

“Lord Hesper.” The Emperor declared aloud. “Take the Senator and Lenora. Go down, there are likely escape pods you can use…”

A growling noised echoed from the darkness. Manticore didn’t get a chance to silently congratulate Lady Hesper, as he now turned his head in tandem with the Emperor. He followed the Sovereign Triumvir’s gaze. There was something in the depths of the tunnel, causing the maintenance lights to go out. It was not clear what, exactly.

It was then that he saw something he had only imagined. The Emperor’s phantom merged with its corporeal self. The High Lord could clearly sense and feel the boost conferred by the union of the two halves.

“Hesper, Aryan, Lenora, go now!”

Manticore did not like the sound of urgency in the Emperor’s voice. It was a bad omen, nor did he like the chilling sensation he was feeling.

Motion caught his eye. Something small and mercurial had fallen. Manticore turned his gaze.

“Look out!!”

Above their heads, black ichor pooled. In a flash, it dropped and expanded like a murky and sinister canopy, attempting to envelop them all. Re’van being in epicenter, was in the gravest danger, in addition, she had a mucilaginous ligament moving down her waist.

The Emperor was clear of the danger in a single bound.

“Protect the Emperor!” Manticore roared at Darth Titus, even as he force-pushed Re’van out from under immediate danger. Manticore himself moved back and away from the oozing threat. His senses were already on high sensitivity, which immediately alerted him of additional threats.

The robed fanatics they had just killed were rising again, covered in oily ooze. Two dozen in total, not counting the black pool. Manticore did not hesitate to act.

He noticed three run towards Hesper and four towards Titus. Manticore’s eyes washed in anger and annoyance as the remaining multitude charged towards him. Those with blasters within the oily-mob opened fire, which the zabrak deflected back at them, just to see them dissipate against their oily-covering.

Manticore pivoted to one side, evading a charging man as he simultaneously slashed back, beheading him in the process. As he completed his turn, he swung the tail end of his saber staff in a wide arc at neck level, intent of making many heads roll off with one swipe, then finished by billowing out a large cone of roiling fire, no doubt any Mando worth his salt would be envious.

The wide movements sent searing jolts of pain through his arm and abdomen, which he could endure for the moment, though the encounter was just engaged. He may have cut down one third his opponents in a single pass, but here were more to contend with.

The zabrak winced in pain, then grimaced despite himself, but found he was grinning, despite the odds. Manticore was already thinking of more insidiously ‘effective’ ways to neutralize the new threat. He just needed to stay alive long enough to do it.


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

 

Combo with Wanderguard and Moonspun!

IC: Darth Kralkus, Darth Arach & Darth Syren
Sith Temple, Hangar West

Syren followed Lady Arach as they quickly crept past the entrance to the western hangar. Coming around a corner, Lord Kralkus came into view and in welcome she and the High Lord were both unceremoniously prodded in the side by the small Sith.

"Small you both are, like me. Fit, you will," he remarked.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at him. Fit where exactly? However, she didn’t linger on her confusion. The apprentice was still thoroughly energized from her recent fight and was practically bouncing on her heels to get moving again. There were plenty more troopers afoot to do away with, after all.

Suddenly, Kralkus motioned and a small hatch near their feet flew off the wall. Realization dawned on her as their plan was set. They were to blow the enemy’s means of entry all to hell.

She set her jaw and moved to the cache of explosives as she glanced at the little Lord slipping through the now-open tunnel. Gently grabbing hold of four devices, two in each hand, she turned back to her companion. Extending a pair of the miniature bombs towards the dark-haired woman, a mischievous expression came over her face.

“After you, my Master,” she said with a slight bow of her head.

Arach felt her amusement surge at Kralkus's greeting. She smirked briefly, then became more serious with the tiny Master's plan, swatting at his hilt when he poked at her sides.

She looked at her and grinned. This is gonna be fun.

The assassin took the offered charges and made her way to the entryway. She paused to wait for Syren to catch up.

As she met the High Lord and then followed her through the hatch, Syren found herself almost instantly on the other side. Moving without a sound, she crawled from the hole and crouched behind a near stack of unknown cargo. They had come out under a low catwalk that hid them in shadow. Even still, she cloaked herself in the Force for reinforced stealth while her eyes took in their surroundings.

Absently she noted that this was the very first place within the Temple she had set a foot down. Now it was crawling with an enemy that seemed determined to end the Sith, to end her. It made her lips curl into a sneer as she glared at the soldiers with raw hatred. They would not take from her what she had only just found.

Rapid blaster fire erupted all around that did nothing to lessen her rage. She did not need to follow the trooper’s aim above to see what they were focused on.

Kralkus.

That was their signal. Holding tight but steady on the pair of explosives in her possession, she glanced at the High Lord next to her before moving along the wall, clinging to the dark for cover.

At the same time she felt her apprentice's presence disappear, Arach rechecked her own concealment, then caught Syren's gaze and gave a curt nod. Now was the time.

She followed Syren, then set her explosives in their places. "It's about time this party had fireworks," she muttered to herself.

With the charges set, Arach backed slowly to safety, making sure Syren made it first.

While master and apprentice set themselves to their work, Kralkus was doing the same. Accosted by fiery bolts of energy with every step, he sprinted along the catwalk above the hangar opening and slapped the charges against the wall like a Pazaak dealer, guiding them with the force as he did to ensure that they stuck. He stuck the last charge, and turned to look back at the escape. No good. The enemy had clustered all round it - no way would they get through quickly enough to be sure the charges wouldn't be removed in their wake.

They would have to make for the main door. "To the main exit, go!" he shouted, and soared off of the catwalk, catching a ship's wing on the way down and swinging upward into a somersault to soften his landing with an 'oof'.

Then he ran for the door.

Syren had slunk along the bottom of the hanger entrance, quickly and carefully placing both her charges as instructed. She was keenly aware of the commotion taking place above as she began to make her way back towards her Master in the shadows. Suddenly, Kralkus cried out over the din.

She whipped around to stand at full height. Her eyes took in the slightly odd sight of the little Sith flying through the air towards the main door and then turned her focus on the swarm of soldiers that were moving in on her companion. She grabbed both her sabers and ignited them without hesitation.

Dashing out into view, she briefly glanced back at Lady Arach as she sensed the attention she pulled her way. Good. The dual lightsabers became a crimson blur as they furiously deflected the thick blaster fire now aimed in her direction.

You’re all going to die, she thought maliciously while progressing across the open, exposed floor. Anger still coursed through her like electricity as she only hoped she would get to watch them burn. Using the Force to swat a lone trooper aside like an annoying fly, she did not miss a beat as she bore down on the exit.

A ways behind, Kralkus was thanking the force that the troopers were clustered along the soon to be destroyed side of the hangar. It was time. He pulled the detonator from his robes mid-stride, and triggered the charges as soon as his comrades were just clear of the blast radius. His ears were left ringing and, as the far side of the hangar fell in around him, he leapt to clear the crumbling debris. He didn't make it, and disappeared in the cloud of dust and rubble. The entryway was destroyed, but sealed. As the rumbling of the cave-in settled, it would seem for a moment that Kralkus had been crushed along with the troopers.

Then a stirring would catch the pair's attention, and a tiny graying hand would emerge from the edges of the pile. A familiar groan would sound as the bloodied but living Darth Kralkus wriggled into the open and then slouched to support himself with one hand, huffing and out of breath.

"Succeeded, we have. And a moment too soon, it was not," he flashed a toothy grin. "Getting too old for this, I am."

As he began to straighten, a metallic clap sounded behind and a flash of red erupted from the rubble to pierce his chest. The last dying act of a crushed trooper. He shuddered and looked down, then pawed weakly at the blaster hole in his heart and ribcage. "I-" his voice quivered, and he fell limply forward against Syren's knees, eyes fixed and empty.

As Kralkus crawled free of the rubble, a small smile appeared on her face in triumph. Syren took a deep breath and replaced her deactivated sabers to her belt. They had done what had been required of them.

She took a few steps closer to him when, before having a single instant to react, the fatal shot obliterated the newfound calm and tore into the tiny Lord. His small frame collapsed towards her and she instinctively knelt with the falling motion of his body. Catching him in her arms to lay him upon the ground, she stared blankly from the still-smoking hole in his chest to his vacant gaze.

He was gone.

Swiping a hand down over the pair of eyes that would never see again, she closed them without an ounce of emotion. As on Hoth, and for most of her life, she remained detached from death. It did not stir sadness or grief or regret. She’d never allow herself such a weakness and most certainly would not now. She was Sith and peace is a lie.

What she was feeling in this moment was a deep, fiery rage which fed the dark side that billowed around her. Hands clenched into fists as Syren looked up at her Master with a barely controlled intensity. The apprentice did not need to speak to convey the passionate fury she knew she radiated; her demeanor would say it well enough.

Arach was already moving closer to Syren and Kralkus when the Sith Master was shot. She froze in shock. What-? How-? her mind was struggling to understand what just happened.

It took her a moment to remember how to walk. She reached her apprentice just as she closed his eyes.

Arach kept her gaze on Kralkus's body as Syren turned her gaze on her. She was filled with so much rage. It strengthened Arach's own.

"One moment, apprentice," the calmness in Arach's voice temporarily covered her cold fury. An idea was niggling at the back of her mind. A new skill. It was a long shot, but it was the only tether keeping her sadness and rage back.

She knelt next to the Sith Master, tapping into the dark side. She placed her slightly glowing hand over the wound and focused. She ignored the voice in the back of her mind that was warning her it was already too late.

The assassin touched the Sith Master's conscious. Master Kralkus, now is not your time. You are still needed. Come back.

A faint glimmer of a force signature touched Arach's mind, briefly, but faded to nothing within a moment. Lord Kralkus' spirit had fallen to chaos.


TAGS: Darth_wanderguard Moonspun Dragon

 

OOC: You're all on separate combos this week. PM me when you're ready to start.


Battle of Moraband GM Update
~

"Prepare my shuttle," Eranikus intoned from the bridge of the Chimaera, gray face betraying his rage, yellow eyes and fanged mouth flashing.

"You..." an officer hesitated. "You will join in the battle, general?"

"The little Night Herald and his followers are proving themselves unwilling to see reason, Admiral. So I shall crush him beneath my boot like the lying, degenerate insect he is. Then..." he quivered angrily with every breath, "when his head stands skewered on a rusty pike before an eviscerated empire, they will surrender willingly to me. Summon my disciples."

The officer said nothing, only nodded and turned to scurry away.

~

IC: Darth Haretisch -- Great Hall

When the hangar collapsed, it shook the entire temple. I grinned and knew that Kralkus, Arach, and her apprentice had succeeded. My faith in them all was well-placed. Though Dreadwar's apprentice in the official sense, I had bonded more with Arach myself while the wraith had seemingly failed to see her potential - focusing his attention moreso on the miscreants who would later die for their loyalty to him. The same had been true of Kwea Acantha. Feeling emboldened, I crushed a trooper to the floor with a thought, and drove my lightsaber through his sternum. The enemy was all but cleared from the room, and only a handful of broken, demoralized stragglers remained hiding behind upturned tables and pillars - though even now they peeked out periodically from their hiding places to nip at us with blaster rifles. My apprentices were surely equal to the task of finishing off the few that remained - I put away my weapon and made for the Central Foyer.

I was stepping through the newly renovated doorway, mental gears turning, considering the next piece to move and where on the board to move it, when the force rippled. I looked up to my left, to the stairs, and reached for my lightsaber but was too late. I felt my body lurch, and was suddenly airborne. Crashing into the far wall beside the north corridor, I came to rest upside down in a slump. The dull sound of claps reached my ears, and as I righted myself I tried to shake the cobwebs from my head. The staircase came into focus, and on it stood a mountain of a man, gray of skin and clad in black. Darth Eranikus - with four armored friends in tow. The fabled Carbonite Disciples, the most powerful of his followers. Strong with the force and practiced with a blade. Vicious in combat and quick from the shadows.



"A dark lord of the Sith, caught off his guard," Eranikus bared a toothy grin. "How disappointing."

"Well, surprise does seem to be your chosen tactic," I remarked, and stood. I still ached from the collision. Eranikus hissed, and rose a graying hand. Cords of lightning erupted from black-clawed fingers, and I reached up to defend, catching the crackling energy with my right palm. I nearly buckled.

'Oh dear Xendor's ghost,' I thought incredulously, falling to a knee, straining against the assault. A Dark Lord shouldn't have to encounter powers beyond his own as often as I had in the two days leading up to this. Finally it abated, and I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. Breathing heavily, I opened a line to my apprentices, to Lady Arach who might as well have been, and to her apprentice as well.

"To the central foyer, quickly," I huffed, and then pulled the lightsaber from my belt. I couldn't do this alone.

"Your students can't save you," Eranikus said as he stepped finally off of the staircase. "It's just us now," he grinned, and his lightsaber hilt spat an angry red blade. "To the doors. If they try to come in, kill them," he said to the Disciples, who had stood quietly until then. Each ignited a crimson lightsaber in quick succession, and spread to the entrances.

I exhaled heavily to center myself, and brought my blade to life a moment before Eranikus erupted forward. He came down with blistering force, but with a spin and a deft parry I maneuvered him into an awkward blade lock, saber pinned to the floor. I stood beside him now with all the leverage.

With all the speed I could muster, I struck him three times about the jaw with the same closed fist, watching his neck wrench with each impact. It only made him angry. He gritted his teeth and broke the blade lock with little apparent effort, sending me stumbling back.

He squared up and pursued. His frame was every bit of two meters, heavily muscled, and he towered over me. A barrage of sword strokes came with him, and I thought I would be swept aside with every mad, powerful slash I blocked. Nearly against the wall now, I went airborne again but this time of my own volition, twisting in midair to sail over his head and reverse our positions. The general was strong but not especially fast, and speed was something I had, and have, in spades. Landing surefooted, I struck out at him as he turned but my attack was batted clear by a backhanded parry. A boot met my right knee before I could recover, and I crumpled, screaming, sure that my leg was broken and all the ligaments were torn. It wasn't actually quite as bad as it felt - the pain was instead a sign that everything still worked, at least somewhat. A cold hand snatched a fistful of my hair and wrenched me up, almost back to standing height, before Eranikus' hurled me bodily into the wall beside. This wasn't a force feat - more brute strength. The bones in my back and neck cracked audibly, and I comforted myself with the fantasy that Eranikus was a chiropractor with unorthodox bedside manner.

Groaning, I picked himself up again, every nerve ending in my body wailing with pain, wiped the blood from my cheek, and gripped my lightsaber more tightly.

TAG: Moonspun Dragon, QueenSabe7, Halle Dray, Anedon


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

IC: Radian T'lenity
Dathomir

The troops had begun to pack up the transports so as begin the voyage back to the council. It was of the upmost imperative in Radians view that the Jedi regroup so as to calculate their losses and plan their next move. They were almost done and the command tent nearly cleared out when the Holocron began to rock back and forth on the only piece of furniture left in the small space. "Did you do something?" He looked pleadingly at his Cerean lieutenant Autha, she simply shook her large cranium from right to left expressing her concern in no other visible way, though it radiated strongly in the current of the force. The mysterious pyramid began to float in the air before the two Jedi, and rotated swiftly opening to reveal its contents though nobody bided it too. A startling flash was released, and Radian placed his hands before his face in a vein attempt to block the object from his view. Autha had her blue lightsaber active already, only searching his features for permission to take the insidious object out of commission permanently. His better judgement wanted to give her the go ahead, yet a voice buried deep inside him indicated such action would be hopeless. He shook his head ordering her to stand down, clearly reluctantly she extinguished the blade, though maintained a firm grip on the smooth handle of her weapon.

Mentally Radian Recited the Jedi code. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no death, there is the Force. Peace flooded his mind, his fear subsided and he felt the light side empower him. But as the last line past through his consciousness a cold presence was felt, and new declarations were heard in a voice not of his own. 'Should Darth Ramage tell you why, shall I, Jedi? From a master to a potential apprentice, perhaps?'He kept his eye's closed, refusing to even aknowledge the dark presence that was projected from the holocron, for a moment he felt as if the words were sent directly into his head as the coldness consumed him, but he soon realized that Jedi Autha's own apprehension was magnified tenfold as well, lightsaber active and held back by shear force of will, the blond woman too must have heard the voice.

'Because there is no time left to bide. The Galaxy is in danger, and the Sith Order is imperilled. The Jedi no longer matter!' The dark thing spat. Radian spoke at last. 'Lies!' He insisted wholeheartedly. 'Deceit, and creating mistrust are the ways of the Sith!' Though he felt his mouth form the words, his ears did not hear them. 'All the Sith that lie between the two realms of life and death know it. All the Jedi who could reach across - they cannot! The Force is roiling with disaster. It is too imbalanced for you to save it. Abandon all hope!' Radians Emerald blade sprang to life, and Autha took that as a sign to attack, though her blade came within an inch of the device an invisible force repulsed it, and she flew back landing roughly on her behind.

Then the world came back into balance, as Radian felt himself become whole again a new presence was observed in the force, this one neither light nor dark, it was... there were no words to describe the feeling. Opening his eye's he saw not only a villainous dark lord of the sith, but an elderly fellow next to him, seemingly fragile with age looking at the Jedi. 'I am the Father. I left this message not in a Holocron as the Sith would, but in this paper, for those who would inevitably worship the place where Mortis dwells because of the actions of my wife on this world, when the End of Time began.' His words spoke true, for the projection was not coming from the sith holocron, which still was projecting the image of Darth Ramage laughing hysterically and seemingly oblivious to the one existing next to him, but instead it came from the piece of papyrus. Radian felt calm return, and he deactivated his blade. The Fathers voice once respectful and measured now radiated a serious tone, and his eye's blazed with warning. 'Do not come. Stay away.' A new light filled the room, this time as the image coming from the ancient paper exploded.


For a brief second he feared the dark artifact might consume him again as the evil thing continued giggling in a delirious manner. He almost didn't sense the officer entering his tent bringing news. 'Master Jedi! We have just received word from the Senator the Sith are holding hostage with the Empress Fel. Moraband is under attack by an unknown party! He has requested assistance in defending him!' Turning to face the woman he realized she was a Captain on his task force, a valued member of his crew, proven capable in past campaigns. Though he stretched to recall her name it escaped him as he was still somewhat riled from the whole experience She fumbled with the comlink, determined to show him something in her rush. A star map appeared before him, and the Captain quickly pointed at the vital location. 'Our task force is the only deployment close enough to assist in a timely fashion. I have word that Commodore Bey is quietly assembling a flotilla to 'escort' our side of the treaty negotiations, but it was being secretly assembled before the Sith bureaucracy arrives and takes stock of everything. It won't be ready in time.'

It took a moment for him to come to his senses enough to respond, it was clearly a mission of importance but there was one thing she was overlooking.'Our 'task force' is a simple trio of Scythe-class cruisers. Is it going to be enough?' But the woman seemed to have lost her own trail of thought as her gaze shifted to the pyramid that was still raving like a lunatic a foot behind him. Autha had finally gotten up, though she knew better than to attempt to strike at the artifact again. She maintained a firm glare at the insane thing before her. The Captain's voice quivered somewhat as she asked. 'Um sir, is that a Sith?' Radian slapped his palm against his forehead in frustration, this was going to take some explaining, but he could delay that until later. 'Never mind that now Captain, return to your station, if our superiors think we're capable then we should at least give it a shot.' The Woman saluted and exited the tent.


Radian huffed slightly as Darth Ramage kept up his babbling, approaching it carefully, he could feel the cold tendrils of the dark side attempt to invade his mind again, but this time they didn't have the element of surprise and he repulsed them with ease. 'Oh shut up will you.' he scoffed at the object. Glancing at Autha he carefully took the Holocron in his hand, and passed it to her. 'Lock this thing up tightly in The Justified Conquest We may not be able to deliver it to the Council now, but we can not risk a Padawan stumbling on it. Be careful, who knows what other tricks it has in its hardware.' She nodded more assertively this time. And together they boarded the last remaining shuttle, off on another adventure.

Tags: Sinrebirth

 

GM APPROVED

IC: Lady Belligerent, DarthIshyZ, The Lorekeeper, Mitth_Fisto (The Lovely Little Holocron), and Darth Kronos

Super combo with: Lady Belligerent, DarthIshyZ, Mikaboshi, Mirth_Fisto, and the one and only Darth Kronos.

-Each paragraph that has the thoughts of our favorite Holocron (Mitth) are put in bolded, green brackets.

-On with the show.

_______________________________________________________________

Bellorum led Kronos to the library, the favorite room of the infamousLorekeeper. He had never met the Lorekeeper personally, he had only heard of him. He probably loved the room more than anyone he had ever met. Apparently, he was clever. Really clever. We'll see about that.

To Jwob, this was... incredible. He comes to Moraband to attend a party andpossibly talk to a Sith or two. Now he's going to be able to see it in person. Fighting along side them. Thrilling couldn't begin to describe it!

[So the one they called Lorekeeper was interesting after all. It was a partial and sad reflection, if only the battle had begun with such an attack perhaps the stacks of works that now were so much ashes would of been preserved in someplace else other than memory or holocrons. Not that it minded the knowledge it and other holocrons becoming more precious, it was just always saddening when children did not take care of their things.]

[Turning whirling, freezing, teasing. So Jwob was open, fresh and raw. It was exhilarating and disheartening if it had ever had the propensity for such an organ. To have the best and the worst qualities represented in duality within a single being was so much grandeur and sadness. So much potential, so much vulnerability. Still the danger was not yet here, even as bombs exploded, bodies froze, and all illusions bled away. The danger was not yet here. 'A spell I would have you cast. Use you to channel it, flourish it.' it simply intoned into Jwob's mind. Bypassing utterances that trembled and troubled the mortal plane. 'But not yet. Listen learn, every action of these observe. Even though they would dissect you to study you, dissect their actions. Find the fulcrums within, trust your instincts. Conceal me.' it simply shared as more arrived. Idly it noted as it's view of the world was reduced to cloth that one seemed driven.]

[Then it was all cloth. Dreary really. When one wishes to be stuck studying tapestries one could not be given a more dreary sampling. The fabric did not even have the decency to have a pattern beyond strong fiber weave! Of all the crass resting places. . .was that taupe? Hmm. Perhaps it should be discovered.]

Dark Lady Bellorum burst into the room just as Jwob was shoving the holocron in his pocket. "You're coming with me" she said to the Lorekeeper. "And you too." she spoke to Jwob.

Jwob wasn't even armed, his mouths agape, he looked around. He reached down and picked up a slugthrower and tested it against a guards body. His body spasmed when the slug hit it. "Yes, ma'am. Will this be sufficient?"

His body was tense as he looked at the fully trained Sith standing in front of him. It fairly tingled with the adrenaline running through his veins. It felt glorious! Powerful! Certainly he knew Bellorum and the Lorekeeper. He attempted to introduce himself to the newcomer. "My name is Jwob Sebb. I'm a trader Lady Bellorum knows. And you are...?"

Kronos moved a bit closer to Jwob. Bellorum knew him... Personally? Who really knew.

He replied back: "Kronos. That-That's what they call me. It's the... only name I'm known by,". He had spoken rather quickly. As if he were trying to get out of a conversation as fast as possible. But, he was just distracted. Both from the two mouths, and... someone else...

Bellorum sighed as she inspected Jwob closely, "should I request a pause from the attackers so you two can have tea and get to know each other?" Did they not grasp the notion that the Temple was being destroyed and an army of undead was bearing down on them?

The passage was open and she'd been waiting for the others, "here," she pulled a lightsaber from her waist and handed it to Jwob, "the blade is a ghastly color, but it's functional. I took it from an apprentice that died suddenly." She smirked as she recalled the started look in Kevala's eyes before she died. "We really must go now," she turned and stepped into the dark passage. She ignited her lightsaber and sprinted into the darkness.

The Lorekeeper was silent during the exchange, multiple stacks had been burned and several others should be evaluated for damage. V3PO and Rakib could clean up, but the care of the texts was his expertise. He had been in the Golg however, along with the Dark Lady, they know what is coming. His hand absently traveled to the satchel he wore and rubbed the mask of Cruor, the cold hurt his fingers but he didn't pull away.

He watched as Bellorum sprinted into the darkness, then took one last look into his beloved library before following the Dark Lady.

[Mulling it over it ceased paying attention to the physical or even the banality of the introductions above and around it. Looking with the Force it sensed by the driven one, clinging to it like a leech to a large creature were infernal drives. Infernal drives not dissimilar to it's own. Reaching out, gingerly tentatively it caressed them. 'Jwob don't look down the emitter! For Mnngl's sake keep that thing pointed away from any part of yourself or me!' it lightly scolded as it was made to pay attention to the banality of the moment.]

[Reaching out once more it caressed the infernal drives, careful not to mingle itself or bump that driven darkness that carried them. 'Hello. I am Soliloquy. Heeello.' It simply called to each in turn. Then did that unimaginable thing. It waited.]

Jwob followed close behind. The walls all showed signs of new battle. Jwob saw several dark areas where flame or blaster bolts had hit. He knew that he would never be able to find himself back down these halls by himself. He tested his lightsaber briefly to make sure he could work it. "Orange. I like it."

Kronos was not following too far from the group, having immediately left with this... Jwob creature. He continued to move on, with his eyes glancing down at the floor as he went. He made an occasional glance upward, making sure he didn't wander into the hilt of another person's lightsaber. It would be an extremely clumsy and stupid mistake, but he was distracted. It was Jwob igniting his new, orange lightsaber that snapped him out of his trance. He glared at the creature, with a small hint of condescension. If Jwob was able to see Kronos' look, he would hope that the alien could understand that was neither the time, nor place to test out your new weapon. Whatever. He could faintly see the end point they were reaching to.

He used a brilliant glow of violet light to lead his way.

The Dawn Herald's violet blade was a guiding beacon for those behind her as she ran down the passage. The Force guided her and kept her steady as there were intervals of the ground quaking beneath their feet. She slid to a stop as she came to two massive doors, both were almost impossible to discern unless you knew they were there. She'd crept in and out of this passage many times over the years serving her Master, so she knew which door. Touching the cool rock, she reached out with the Force and triggered the bolts inside the walls to release the pins. The solid rock door slid open into the evening twilight.

She turned and faced her companions, "there are three sets of two artillery guns," she paused and motioned into the distance. "There are two aimed at each of our three hangers, and we need to take them out to allow our air traffic in and out. The sets of two are fairly close together and have a crew of four manning each gun." She paused and looked over her companions, "Jwob, you'll be with me, and we will take out one gun, while you two," she nodded to Kronos and Lorekeeper, "will take the other. We need to sneak in and kill all 8 beings swiftly. Any questions?"

Kronos was ready, his hand hovering over his lightsaber, anticipating the eventual use for it. He listened, as Bellorum explained their current mission. It didn't sound too complicated from what he was used to doing. Kill people, destroy things, run away. It was seemingly simple. He nodded towards Bellorum, a sign of acknowledgement. His hand fully grasped his lightsaber, as he yanked it off his belt. He waited for Bellorum's orders. His thumb rested on the lightsaber's button, as he constantly breathed heavily. He just wanted to get this over with as fast as possible. He had other matters to attend to.


They were close enough now to see the crews manning the artillery units, they were shouting directions to each other and acting erratically. Bellorum and her team watched them for a moment as their excitement level seemed to be escalating. "What the kriff are they pointing at?" She murmured and grabbed the macrobinoculars. The gunners were repositioning their targeting and aiming for something in the opposite direction from the Temple.

Then there it was, a YT-2400 Correlian light freighter. The pilot was doing fancy maneuvers while flying fairly low to the surface. Before they could intervene, the artillery crews opened fire on the ship. From where Bellorum and the others stood, they watched as the Dusty Butcher was hit and flames were licking along the hull. The enemies continued to fire at him as he blazed by, streaming trails of debris from scorched marked holes.

Bellorum sighed, "we better take these guys out now before they do any more damage," she tugged Jwob to follow. There was no need to direct the Lorekeeper and Kronos, they'd know what to do.

TAG: Darth Kronos Lady Belligerent Darth Rozic DarthIshyZ Mikaboshi Mitth_Fisto

 

Soccmel was feeling the force flow on his body, a feeling he had never experienced so distinctively. A quick, precise blow and Darth Talon was history. "An accomplishment worth a master" - he dared think. But sadly the reality was a little bit harsher. His task was not over; it is true that he had finally discovered how their defences had been sabotaged, but restoring them was the pivotal part of his mission. In adition, more enemies were coming, and in spite of his reinvigorated Sith powers, he realised he couldn't stand an open fight against a legion of chrome troopers or worse. He had to be wise, he had to think out of the box to come up with some tricks to deceive his opponents.

The Umarell was pondering which would be the best option to make it to the signal relay room and restore the equipments that have been switched off when he heard a sound coming from his left. "Troopers!" - he thought - "I've been spootted". The two soliers were already wielding their blaster rifles. An open fight would certainly end up in a mess, and the last thing Soccmel wanted to do was to leave his under the radar position. He had to be quick, he had to be silent.

His instinct told him to wield his lightsaber and attack them in the most classical Sith way. But instead, after briefly pondering pros and cons, he turned to the duo with the intent of force-choking and making them pass out. He had learnt this powerful technique and already utilised it with ease, but that was the first time he turned to it in a fight against two opponents at the same time. But he knew that if he succeeds, once the soliers were left unconscious it would be a piece of cake to get rid of them without getting noticed.

Closing his eyes, Darth Soccmel menaciously directed his left hand towards the two soldiers and applied a heavy pressure to his finger, the same pressure that would soon be felt by his opponents.

TAG: Darth_wanderguard

Sent from my SM-G903F using Tapatalk

 

Darth Hades
Desert, Moraband

Hades was covered in a film of sweat and his body began to feel the strain of fighting the undead creatures. He quickly pushed off the ground and as light as a feather pushed off several more places until back among the other Sith. This was quickly becoming a no-win situation, and though Hades had faced death more times than he could count, this was the first time an enemy that was already dead and with no fear had begun to overwhelm them with sheer numbers. ​

​

Lady Hel, this is becoming a death trap. I suggest we use the Force to hurl boulders down upon them.
As Hades spoke, the ground gave way again and Ravenous and Anark disappeared below the sands. He was beginning to wonder if the Darkside was trying to give them an answer and they were ignoring it.
What the hell is going on?!?! Why the hell is the tombs and tunnels opening up?! Do you think below is the answers we seek? Something we aren't understanding about this?​

​

​

He stood looking at the new sinkhole and pointed into the darkness.
Someone will have to go int there, won't they?​

​

​

TAG: Lady Belligerent, WookieeRage, Snokers, Darth Rozic

 

The Lorekeeper
Korriban Artillery Guns

Bellorum sighed, "we better take these guys out now before they do any more damage," she tugged Jwob to follow and left Darth Kronos and the Lorekeeper to their own devices. Already they had made it half way to the artillery gun, Andeddu was growing impatient.

"What are you waiting for?" The spirit asked silently. "Watch." Lorekeeper said aloud, Darth Kronos would surely hear him.

Soon after an explosion could be heard, even from this distance the duo could feel the ground shake. It would be hard to imagine an apprentice such as the Ithorian surviving, though with the Dark Lady nearby it is possible she interceded on his behalf.

"That is why you never go first." The Lorekeeper said as he turned to his masked companion then put a withered hand on the young man's should, "However, you are going first." his face broke into a wide grin that showed his cracked teeth. "I'll catch up." He added as he started to push Kronos forward.

Tag: Darth Kronos DarthIshyZ Lady Belligerent

 

Darth Titus
Wrath of Vader,Missile Tunnel

Darth Hesper emerged from her own shuttle with the remaining two Hapan guards. They all looked unscathed from the looks of it. But there was no such time to address their wounds. Lord Manitcore was facing an imminent threat with the Emperor nearby. As they raced towards the Sith and his foes, an explosion erupted within the tunnel.

A cacophony thundered around the tunnel as the men carrying explosives were burst apart, and those who were not killed instantly burned alive. Great way to go thought Titus. When Darth Titus and Hesper arrived, Manticore had finished what was just started. No fun for them...

Lord Manticore acknowledged their presence with a slight nod, Titus returned the gesture. Meanwhile, Emperor Insipid was busy interrogating one of the surviving assailants. The man rattled off a barrage of names, and sensing the interrogation going nowhere, Insipid simply, and quite easily crushed the man's skull. Insipid believes these foes to be religious fanatics.

"Our foe must have founded the religion via the Kathol and now he's reaped his harvest. Three foes await us, perhaps." The Emperor started to give his orders; "Lord Hesper. Take the senator and Lenora. Go down, there are likely escape pods you can use."

Almost immediately the atmosphere changed. It was so sudden Titus couldn't pinpoint what the cause was. But he soon would. The others felt it too, especially the Emperor. "Hesper, Aryan, Lenora, go now!"

An immense thundering growl vibrated the walls of the tunnels. And like rain, black oily ooze poured down around the Sith. One glob of ooze connected with Re'van, moving down her waist.

The Emperor wasted no time, clearing his self of immediate danger with one single leap. "Protect the Emperor!" Manticore commanded of Titus. Not like Insipid needed it, but Titus responded accordingly. He wielded his lightsaber in a flash and prepared to protect his emperor even if it cost him his life. The robed fanatic assailants who Manticore had just dealt with rose from death. Something Titus had never seen before. It was something out of a nightmare. Three charged Hesper, while four charged Titus.

They wielded blasters, most of them. Some were gearing up to use their fists. Ducking the first foe, Titus pivoted and slashed his lightsaber horizontally, cleaving the first enemy in half at the torso. The second was on him immediately forcing Titus to jump overhead of the foe. As he jetted himself above, he positioned his lightsaber straight, letting his saber cult the assailant straight down the middle as he rained down upon them.

The third and fourth assailants had bypassed Titus and headed straight for the Emperor. Measuring up the distance, Titus flicked his wrist, tossing his lightsaber in a deadly arc, using the force to guide the blade straight for the two undead ooze men..The two foes dropped just in front of Lord Insipid; now reduced to a puddle of ooze.

Lord Titus observed the battlefield, wondering where it would lead him next.

TAGS: Sinrebirth, greyjedi125, corinthia, HunterPrime, HanSolo29

 

OOC: I owe one million apologies to everyone for not posting sooner!

IC: Darth Rozic
Korriban

Rozic laughed at Hel’s message. She could really lose her temper. Rozic pushed down on a button and began talking through the ships in-built comm system.​

​

“Alright, alright. I’ll kill some dead people if you really want me to,” he responded with a hint of humor in his voice. ​

​

The Dusty Butcher began aimlessly firing at the hordes of zombies. All this flying reminded Rozic of flying his ship through Dxun.​

​

Wait, what?! A memory?​

​

Rozic brushed away the thought and continued firing. However the attacks seemed futile against the undead’s unlimited might. After a few minutes of pointlessly firing the Darth thought he should actually try to turn the tide of the battle.​

​

Rozic began weaving through massive rocks that stuck out from the crowd of the deceased. Firing every few seconds, yet with each explosion more zombies seemed to appear. They flooded the deserts and mountains. ​

Whilst Rozic easily flew through the sky, swiftly making his way across the red sandy plains he could sense that Darth Ravenous and his ‘entourage’ were having a much harder time. Rozic was actually surprised at how easy it was to pointlessly provide air support, especially when no one was shooting at him.​

Rozic took a deep breath in. He felt his mission was eerily simple and almost as if someone was letting him have it so easy. ​

The Dusty Butcher shuddered as a loud grumbling sound arouse from the engine. Smoke began billowing from the vents and Rozic knew something was wrong. He quickly checked the monitors yet they showed everything as normal. Rozic started choking. Abruptly the cockpit went from breathable air to a mass of toxic smoke.​

I really wish I was a Balasor right now! Rozic thought to himself.​

The ship began rapidly losing altitude as the red surface of Korriban drew near. Within moments the Dusty Butcher smashed into the surface of the planet. Rozic cracked his head on the steering wheel and blood began pouring over the control panels of the ship. ​

Rozic began losing consciousness as yet another shadow replaced a part of his body. This time the right side of his face; which was severely damaged and resembled the red lava streams of Sullust.​

As Rozic drifted into a deep slumber Darth Karanain once again appeared in another vision.​

He simply greeted Rozic by saying “Hello there.” ​

Tags: @WookieeRage @Snokers @E. L.Knight @Lady Belligerent​

 

IC- Darth Arach (combo post with Darth_wanderguard)
Battle of Moraband, Sith Temple


Arach felt the faintest spark of consciousness from Darth Kralkus and it raised her hopes ever- so- slightly. Maybe he can yet survive, but, no. Just as she felt that spark, it faded, then was gone. The Night Herald's lieutenant was no more.

Grief and rage surged through the assassin. It was time to end this.

Arach rose to her feet and took a step back from the tiny corpse, just as a voice came over her comm.

"To the central foyer, quickly."

She knew it was Haretisch and she knew there was trouble. She was already on her way, also knowing Syren had heard and was following.

Again, making sure her presence in the Force was concealed, Arach slowed to a stop before reaching the last corner. She took a deep breath to steady her breathing, the she reached through the hidden slit of her emerald green skirt and withdrew her lightsaber. Ready for whatever was next, she stepped around the corner.

Seeing the two guards, Arach slowly walked toward them, her rage burning bright and strong. Not even the rage she had felt at Dreadwar's death compared to what coursed through her. Arach turned her attention to the guard directly ahead of her, knowing Syren would take care of the other one.

As Arach picked up speed down the corridor, she used the Force to augment the scream that exploded from her mouth. At the same time, she ignited her blood orange blade and slashed diagonally at the guard's masked face.

The disciple visibly shuddered, shaken by the High Lord's force scream and taken aback by the speed with which she approached. He shuddered with the impact as he stepped up to block, but his recovery was quick and he pressed forward powerfully against the blade lock. He towered over the woman, not to the extent that his counterpart outsized her apprentice, but by nearly a head anyway.
He pushed off and counterattacked, raining a heavy overhead blow down onto her as he pressed forward. He would not win a contest of speed or agility, nor could he truly match her command of the force. But strength was his ally. He would win through brute force alone if need be. In the room behind, the audible clash of lightsabers, of heavy fists meeting bone and flesh, would reach Arach's ears.

Arach took a step back when the guard pushed off. She quickly danced to the side and gathered strength for a Force Lightning attack. it gathered into a glowing, crackling ball in her hand. she didn't release it. Not yet. She quickly threw a flurry of attacks, waiting for a moment of weakness.
The new High Lord heard the battle in the next room and her attacks became faster. She needed to get in there now!
The disciple's attack swung wide, and no sooner had he pivoted to recover than he found himself on the defensive again, forced to deflect the ever-quickening blows assailing him. He was forced ever backward by the assault, now nearly standing in the doorway once again - but he saw the energy arcing across her palm and was determined not to give an opening. He would not lose. Not after lying suspended in a nightmare for four millenia, not after finding himself among the chosen of the Infinite Sith. The corridor darkened minutely as he parried hard, intending to knock her off balance and buy himself a moment. Fueled by rage and desperation, he called upon the unholy powers bestowed to him by the pantheon. His right fist would turn a grotesque coal black, arcs of purple energy skittering across it as he summoned the very essence of chaos itself. He punched forward at Arach's chest, intending to end her with a single blow. His arm would surely disintegrate - but so would she if the blow landed.
Arach saw darkness gathering to her enemy. She danced back a couple steps, then threw the hand that held the crackling electricity forward.

The action released the full power of her lightning. She was relieved to see it was just in time to counteract the guard's own attack. She hoped her lightning was strong enough to break through.
Energies met - crackling electricity with creeping, corrupting blackness - and all at once they burst. A blinding flash would fill the High Lord's senses, and she would be vaguely aware of having been thrown back, well out of the fight, stunned and disoriented... But alive.

Not so much could be said for the disciple, who now rest on his back not so far from where he had stood, flattened. He lay sprawled, extremities outstretched - or three of them, anyway. The corrupted hand with which he had attacked was no more, vaporized clear to the elbow with only a blackened stump left.

Gone too was his mask, and there upon his gray, twisted face was a grimace indescribable, lidless bloodshot eyes fixed upon the ceiling.

And just past him, the open doorway.
Arach felt the hard surface of the wall pressing against her back. It took her a few moments to regain her clear vision after the blinding light, then a few more for her brain to process what her eyes where seeing.

After she had been thrown back, her back struck a nearby wall. The assassin had, then landed hard on her side, facing the, now extra crispy, guard. Slowly, Arach stood. She limped a couple of steps and swayed slightly as her brain registered the pain of bruised flesh and as her equilibrium sorted itself out. By the time she reached the guard, everything was almost completely back to normal.

It took one glance for her to know he was dead.

Her lips twisted into an expression of disgust and she spared a second to give the corpse a swift kick as she made her way through the door into the foyer.
Tag: Darth_wanderguard, QueenSabe7

 

V-3PO

Sith Temple -- Library Lower level -- Korriban

Access Denied. Attempt 547985

System Lockout in 0 attempts. 1 day cycle lockout initiating. Initiate over-ride protocol. Failed.

Log entry 2559. Database Key Reconstruction. Failed

Full factory shut down in 0 attempts. Terminate operation.

V-3PO stood staring at a shelf littered with books, scrolls, and datapads. Processing. The blank expression of the dark grey almost black 3P0 model Protocol Droid staring without moving. One more attempt and he would execute a permanent lockout. Which would then require a factory wipe and total re-image.

The attempt to crack his database key had failed times with a 24 hour lockout. This was a daily routine for him now, the lockout protocol allowed him to go up to only so many attempts before it initiated a day cycle lockout before he could try again. If he continued he would have initiated a lockout security protocol that would permanently shut him down. The only way being to uninitiated such, would be with a remained manufacturing database key, which would potentially wipe all of his data. Reverting him back to the base factory model settings, right off the assembly line. That could not be permitted.

"Curses!"

He spoke, in what was heard to be the familiar 3PO mechanical style sounding voice but snarkier and a bit darker. He could emulate and imitate over 6 million forms of communications as any other protocol droid, but chose this snarky dark tone. For no more reason than to annoy all sentient life. V-3PO shuffled over to the entrance of the library, where another droid was busy collecting refuse and cleaning. v-3PO kicked the cleaning droid, a loud pang and clunk as the smaller droids sensor beeped in alarm at having been assaulted.

Hurry up you waste of circuits! Master will be back shortly! The droid beeped successively and rocked as it felt rushed and abused by the scornful Protocol Droid. "Shut your receptacle you!" V-3PO kicked the smaller droid again. "Move your parts along, before I torch off one of your extension arms."

V-3PO watched as the droid passed through the library door and disappeared around the corner down the hall, beeping insensitively back at him, giving him an sensor full in droid binary. V-3PO leaned out the door watching as if protecting a scornful gaze as the droid rounded the corner down the hallway as he stared, upon the exit of the cleaning droid he whirled around returning down one of the library passages.

V-3PO resumed his filing duties as he moved about the library, shuffling around and executing his assigned tasks. One of his arms seized up as he reached to file a datapad on a hover cart next to him.

"Curses!" He spoke again. Repair Entry 107 for daily cycle. Logged.

That damn man made a nightmare of his circuitry and casings. V-3PO did everything he could to avoid his hands at meddling and breaking more things. It was a constant war of attrition fixing what that man broke in him. Just then his proximity alarm went off as he was notified of his return. V-3PO heard the rattle and shutter of explosions in the background, nothing out of the ordinary... perhaps another coup attempt or scuffle over lordships. He was down one of the secluded areas of the library organizing and filing a compendium on the breeding practices of Tuk'ata. Vile nasty creatures, only redeeming quality was that they hunted sentient.
V-3PO continued his filing waiting for the return of his "Master", oh how he cursed that title, entered into his programming by the Lorekeeper as some sort of ownership over him.

"V3PO!!!" The sound of his masters voice cam over a comm-link. "Oh what is it now!?!?" V-3PO muttered annoyingly to himself. Couldn't that man just leave him be. V-3PO responded back over the comm-link.

"Sarcastic exhilaration and joy: Master it is so good to know you have returned."

"Non-genuine query: Was your trip fortuitous?"

"Statement: I would hate to have seen you harmed, humiliated, and or eviscerated in any way master."

His master reminding him to fetch Rabik as well... the cur of a boy that sulked around the library. V-3PO had found particular amusement in stalking the boy. Always showing up staring at him, with Rabik sulking away scared as the droid always caught him in precarious situations.

"Statement: Master, Rabik seems tangled up with something as of right now.'

V-3PO caught the view of Rabik's legs stuffed into a dispenser at the end of the library corridor. The legs bent in an unnatural way, lending to the idea that the Sith apprentice might no longer be operating at full capacity or at all for that matter.

"Curses!" That cleaning droid was suppose to have disposed of him! I'll melt that droid to slag!

Simultaneously V-3PO moved over to a nearby table grabbing a tray with a silver glass on it and container. A beverage he had prepared for his master. It had been sitting out for days and probably turned by now. V-3PO had processed potentially putting crushed glass in it or perhaps a Poisonous Mannanian Sea snail, but alas his programming brought him to the same conclusion that he needed the cursed man alive for now.

V-3PO began to shuffle towards the main portion of the library with the tray in hand. The sound of explosions continued as the droid made his way towards his master in the main portion of the library. He would have to deal with he body of Rabik later. The burn and puncture wounds would be suspicious...


Mikaboshi DarthIshyZ Darth_wanderguard Mitth_Fisto

 

Draconis
Sith Temple --Great Hall

After the brief excursion to the hanger to neutralize the assassins he had sensed and tracked. Draconis now moved through the temple, following the Emperors original words to proceed tot he main hall, the Great Hall near the front entrance of the Grand Temple. The grand hall was a mess littered with debris and bodies, the glow of sabers twirling in the air as Draconis peered across the hall noting two Sith a female in a elegant ball gown now somewhat tattered, and a young man eviscerating Silver clad troops that poured into the hall. Sith young man utilized his surroundings to gain an advantage, while the young woman took advantage of cover and well placed blaster shots to plan her next move no doubt. The sounds of the room began to calm as only now a few straggling troops remained, as they were hunted down one by one by the two Sith apprentices. Draconis noticed Lord Haretisch pulling his blade out of the chest of a fallen trooper right before putting away his lightsaber as he exited the room, making his way elsewhere. Draconis receded back into the shadows falling in behind Lord Haretisch.

Noting the Triumvir member as he rounded a corner into the Central Foyer of the Temple. As he stepped through the doorway Draconis felt a surge in power as the body of Lord Haretisch, was hurled back. Draconis slowed his pace, sliding further into the shadows gaining a vantage point of the events unfolding. The figure and his followers were not familiar to him, Clad in metal armor they stood up the stairs of the foyer. The main figure, clearly the leader unleashed a lightning assault upon Lord Haretisch. Which was caught just in time by his palm, repelled and dissipated. The sabers of the brood erupted in succession their crimson blades coming to bare as the metal armored commander and Lord Haretisch engaged each other. "To the doors. If they try to come in, kill them," Commanded the metal clad figure. Draconis had already moved into the foyer and beyond mere moments prior, utilizing the engagement as a distraction to his silent entrance as he moved back into a corner of the room unnoticed as the disciples of the commander ordered them to sure up the entrances and block entry.

Draconis watched as a brutal assault was unleashed upon Lord Haretisch, but Draconis remain hidden waiting for the right moment.

@Darth_wanderguard Halle Dray QueenSabe7 Anedon Moonspun Dragon

 

Combo Post with Wanderguard

IC: Darth Syren
Sith Temple, Hangar West/Central Foyer

"One moment, apprentice."

As her Master moved to kneel beside the fallen Sith Lord, Syren stood quickly and turned away. She was not sure of Lady Arach’s intentions with Kralkus’ corpse, but she did not care to see. He was dead, that was that. Instead, she closed her eyes and brought both hands up to either side of her face. Her fingers pushed down and traced slow circles over her temples as she focused inward to steady herself. Her rage remained intact; it was not her intent to douse that fire. She would most assuredly need it. This battle had been won, yet the war was far from over.

After a moment, the apprentice let her arms fall down to her sides. Turning her head to peer back over her shoulder, all of a sudden a familiar voice again sounded over Lady Arach’s comm. "To the central foyer, quickly." This time it belonged to the Night Herald.

There was something about his tone that made her body tingle with anxiety, but she did not have time to contemplate why. She spun around and took off after her Master as they raced down the long corridor in front of them. Nearing the end, Syren slowed as the central foyer entrance came into view. Taking stock of what danger loomed up ahead, she firmly grabbed hold of both lightsabers and ignited them.

Blocking the way in was a pair of formidable figures. She easily sensed their strong connection to the dark side of the Force as its sinister current moved with intensity between all four beings present. Well, we all have something in common then, she thought humorlessly. Glancing at her Master, it became obvious they would each have their own challenge to face here. Alone.

Continuing to advance with vigilance, Syren stiffened slightly when she noted the distinct crackling sizzle and hum of clashing lightsabers. The sounds were originating from the space beyond the living barrier she faced. They don’t want us to interfere, she realized. Her eyes narrowed at the featureless masked visage of her chosen foe and she squared herself up towards him. We shall see about that.

She took a deep breath and tightened her grip over her saber hilts, inching ever closer to the entry way and impending conflict. Cocking an eyebrow, she spoke up. “I don’t suppose you would… step aside for me?” With an abrupt twist of her body, she punched her right fist and saber forward horizontally. Aiming a Force Push at his mid-section, she intended to force him back into the foyer. Following the move a split-second later, Syren charged towards the door with fury, prepared to bleed her way over the threshold if need be.

The disciple was tall, and broad - a mountain of undulating corded muscle clad in armor of gray and black which fit like a second skin. Thicker plates lay over his forearms, shins, and groin, while his face was covered by a smooth and featureless black helmet.

With a dull thwack, he absorbed the force push, taking a single step in retreat and briefly going down to a knee. He made no sound. Most living beings might have offered an 'oof' or something of the like - but the disciple's human vulnerabilities, fear, pain, indeed any trace of softness at all had been beaten out of him like impurities out of hot iron. He stood again as Syren charged, and filled the doorway as she closed in. Had he not been nearly knocked down a moment before, had his lightsabers been at the ready, he would have skewered her. As it was he simply braced and allowed her to collide with and bounce off of his chest.

Then he brought his blades to bear - two red columns of energy jutting forth from his forearms. The hilts were, unconventionally, mounted to the armor plates on the backs of his wrists - making for rather enigmatic angles of attack. He stepped forward to pursue, and brought one blade across in a vicious backhand slash, before punching upward with the other. As he attacked, Syren would note that though possessed of a vicious, hateful strength, he was slow.

As Syren saw the massive frame standing to fill the entry once again, she was already airborne. Not having enough time to properly strike out with her sabers, she managed to turn enough that her right side impacted with his heavily armored chest. It was like running full speed into a durasteel wall. Ricocheting off, she barely kept her footing as she stumbled back, weapons spinning about as she moved fluidly into a defensive stance.

She let out a frustrated huff and winced at the shock of pain in her shoulder. Dark eyes raked over the towering figure before her as he ignited his own unique dual blades. Interesting… He cleared the small space between them and struck at her with each weapon. A single blade swept across towards her and she quickly raised both her sabers to block. Faltering a step on impact, an instant later she noted the uppercut movement of his second saber. He was certainly powerful, but not as quick as she.

Syren gave ground a fraction which allowed her to be pushed aside by the sweeping motion of the first attack. Twisting away from her opponent, she narrowly missed being run through by his follow-up. She shoved down with all her might and broke free as her body kept spinning tightly around until she was directly at his right side facing the opposite direction. Widening her stance as she came to a halt, she let her forward momentum guide her right saber over and up in a wide, arcing strike with the intent to cleave her enemy in two from behind.

Outmaneuvered in what seemed like a blink, the disciple simply couldn't match the speed of the wily assassin. It seemed she could execute bold, arcing power strikes as quickly as he could retaliate with hasty blocks and hurried thrusts - to say nothing of his own stronger attacks or more forceful parries which would either leave him completely open or fail altogether.

As it was, her cleave struck him. Only a glancing blow - mitigated by his armor as a burst of glowing splinters erupted from his side - but had he not whirled just quickly enough to awkwardly deflect it, albeit a moment too late, he would have been rent in twain from flank to shoulder. Instead only his hide was pierced, and charcoal gray skin showed where the armor had been lacerated. It too had felt Syren's blade, a sizzling gash left in his anomalous flesh.

As he jerked and retreated a step to regroup, the gouge split with his exertion. Thinning skin was pulled taught across ancient muscle, and yielded. From the fresh wound he bled black, and fell to a knee, for the first time showing something resembling pain.

Were he originally human, four millennia frozen in carbonite had changed him into something else entirely. He was certainly no longer human - no longer alive at all, perhaps. And what of Syren, who had spent nearly as long in stasis beneath Sadow'een? Was she the same as she had been at the start? Or had she been distorted the same as he, and yet in a more subtle way?

Her saber was a red blur as she followed through. Her weight shifted inwards onto her right foot with the motion and her adversary twisted to block. Too late. She made contact, scorching armor and flesh, before he had the chance to block the full potential of her strike. Once he did, she was knocked back a few paces by the strong parry. Paying no mind, Syren snarled as she came about to willingly put some distance between her and her opponent and braced for retaliation.

Instead, she saw him slip to a knee and reacted with a leering smile. She took a step towards him… and abruptly stopped. Her thoughts had suddenly begun to stir with drudged up memories of a time long past. Her eyes narrowed, examining the wounded being in front of her. There was something familiar. A name suddenly blazed in the forefront of her mind, sure and true.

Darth Eranikus.

Yes! This was one of his elite warriors. A Disciple. “How?” The question came forth loud and clear before she could stop it. Kriff this, she thought as her mouth snapped shut. No time for confusion. Picking up where she had left off, her legs carried her back over the lost ground. Within range, Syren threw both arms out in another Force Push to his chest. Using this as a feint, she next slashed out at his bended knee with one saber and immediately followed to swing out at his neck with her second. If all went as planned, her weapon would separate his head from his shoulders in a killing blow.

He was unprepared. Burning blades found their mark, and with a fiery hiss the disciple's leg was severed amid the knee. Simultaneously his head was sliced from his shoulders, faintly glowing embers dancing about his broken body as he fell to pieces. He came to rest in a jumbled heap, utterly bested, and the way into the foyer was clear.

Coming to a stop, Syren watched as he fell in front of her, head rolling away separate from the rest. Clenching her jaw, the apprentice looked towards the open foyer entrance to see her Master passing through. She didn’t look back as she quickly stepped over the Disciple’s corpse to follow.

TAGS: Darth_wanderguard Moonspun Dragon

 

Combo with Sinrebirth and HanSolo29
The Stardust

Hesper watched, stupefied, as the Emperor Insipid dealt with a gibbering fanatic left over from Manticore's incineration. The man had been spouting praises of the Left Handed Lord before Insipid grew short with him. Shaking brain from his hand, Insipid turned to the others. "He's a religious fanatic. Our foe must have founded the religion via the Kathol and now he's reaped the harvest. Three foes await us, perhaps." Crossing her arms, Hesper frowned and considered Insipid's words.

She was startled out of her contemplation as the specter version of Insipid entered the hangar with Re'van in tow. "We have a ship above, on the top hull. It can accommodate us all, and take the Empress away."

"No good," Insipid replied to himself. "Aryan is too valuable." Hesper's eyes cut to Aryan Graul. "We can't risk him and the Empress." Hesper unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her hips as Insipid commanded two of the surviving guards. Then, he turned to Hesper and said: "Lord Hesper."

Her title. Hesper felt pride rush through her body as the Emperor bequeathed the title of Lord to Hesper right that moment. It would be an extremely important mission, then, Hesper gathered. She could not fail. Nay, she would not. She lifted her chin slightly to signify that she was listening. "Take the Senator and Lenora. Go down, there are likely escape pods you can use--" Insipid stopped abruptly as a noise, a growl, reverberated from the tunnel.

Immediately, Hesper knew something was very, very wrong. A chill had seized her bones, settling quickly and painfully. Something had to be done. Insipid merged with his phantom and called out. "Hesper, Aryan, Lenora, go now."

Aryan had been warned by his peers about the peculiar nature of the Sith. Some had relegated it to tall tales and folklore designed to inflict fear into the hearts of disobedient children, while others viewed it as a form of black magic borne outside of the realm of the physical plane. But where did it meet reality? Aryan had his suspicions that the truth behind their spectacular feats rested somewhere in the middle and that there had to be a logical explanation...until he actually witnessed the weird and fantastical scene currently unfolding before his eyes.

So, it is real, he mused to himself, the revelation producing an unusual sense of calm throughout his body. Even as the corpses of the soldiers rose from the hellish depths to walk once more, their flesh dripping with a strange black sludge, he remained cool and collected. The only hint that there was any cause for concern came when he took a precautionary step backward to avoid the stench. It was such an odd reaction, to be sure. It was almost as if he believed himself to be... immune.

And perhaps he was.

As he took stake of everything unfolding around him, he couldn't help but notice that these creatures had a one-track mind; they were focusing all of their efforts on the Sith themselves, leaving him completely unattended. It was obvious that they did not consider him to be much of a threat to their campaign. How very juvenile. The thought brought a twisted smile to his lips.

Hesper turned on her heel and ran-- Lenora had taken off almost instantaneously, down the corridor Hesper and Aryan would also need to go down. She skittered through, and a trio of the reanimated fanatics converged on the entrance, blocking it off for Hesper and Aryan. "Graul," Hesper growled once Aryan was close enough to hear her. "I hope you can at least defend yourself." Igniting her lightsaber, Hesper snarled and drove the hissing blade through the face of the nearest black-coated being.

Again, these Sith had the gall to question his abilities as if he was some kind of simpleton. He was quite capable of handling his own with a blaster; the problem was, he wasn't sure if he was ready to draw the unnecessary attention to himself that such a move would entail. For the moment, he was quite content to step aside and allow the Sith to handle the threat for him. Besides, it didn't appear as if an ordinary blaster was having any effect on those creatures anyway. Why waste the resources? It would only be a matter of time before the chaos that was sure to ensue would allow him to remove himself from the situation anyway.

Even as that thought entered his mind, two of the remaining creatures thrust themselves forward to confront Hesper with deadly precision. And once again, they were seemingly blind to his presence.

Perfect.

Aryan stepped backward into the shadows along the wall, stretching his hands out behind him to guide his way.

One down, two reached forward, both ignoring the Senator and going for the Sith Lord. One produced a slicked with black dagger and lunged for her neck, while the other produced a blaster in his hand - not oiled - and pointed them either side of the firsts head; glancing blows with blaster fire would not wound the thing, with that oily second skin. So it could fire around the firsts head with no issue.

Lenora, for her part, had a trio of fanatics turning the corner, emerging from a staircase that they needed to take. Or the lift next to it. Lenora didn't trust enemy lifts. It was a recipe for disaster.

As were the three fanatics, unleashing a volley of fire that saw the Keshiri take steps back into cover, toeing the corpse and kicking it at the three. It wouldn't slow them for long.

'A little help, guys!'

Hesper snapped her head in the direction of Lenora's cry, and noted that Aryan had discreetly slipped into shadow, but immediately had to duck out of the way of a lunging black thing. She dropped into a low crouch and swiped out with a leg, catching the one holding a dagger at the ankle and knocking it down. Hesper had always been a rather impatient person-- she had absolutely no time to waste with these hideous beings. With a disgusted expression, Hesper slashed upward with her blade and swiftly decapitated the dagger-bearing thing. Hesper took a moment to push her wild hair out of her face with her free hand, then used her crouch to launch herself at the second thing, holding a blaster. She used the Force mid lunge-- calling the thing's blaster to her palm-- then brought her saber down upon the blackened being's head, cleanly cleaving it in two.

"Disgusting," Hesper muttered in a muted, sour voice, looking at the kiped blaster in her hand, then looking at the thing at her feet and its halved head. "Absolutely disgusting." For good measure, Hesper quartered the head and made a show of shoving her saber through the other's decapitated head.

With a pointed look at Aryan that said, Come with me, sleemo, Hesper took off at a trot to follow after Lenora.
Lenora took a glancing shot to the temple and fell to the floor in front of the two of them, at which point the three cultists - un-oozed - rushed forward to finish the Keshiri off.

These nutters had no sense of self preservation - even before the ooze got to them.

Hesper slid to a stop from the sprint she'd worked up going after Lenora when she saw the Keshiri fall to the floor after taking a hit-- Hesper cursed loudly. "Lenora," she said, her voice bordering on scolding. Hesper watched as three unsullied cult members nearly jumped Lenora before Hesper took a leap and landed with a foot protectively on either side of Lenora, raised the blaster she'd Force-swiped, and deftly took out each of the three with bolts to the chest, taking advantage of their black goo-less state. Sometimes, Hesper found, a blaster felt much more precise than a saber. She smirked at the stolen blaster before tossing it aside.

Hesper then looked down at Lenora. She offered a hand to the Keshiri. "Up. If you can," Hesper demanded.

Lenora pouted at Hesper, but pulled a much happier face at the handsome Senator. She did, however, scowl at the Sith Lord when she saw the bodies. Grabbing her blaster she fired more shots into the necks, breaking the connection to the head. 'Nothing to reanimate then, my Lord.'

The battle in the missile tunnel modulated, growing louder, and Lenora gestured for them to follow, holding out a weapon to Aryan. 'I found some stairs, let's go.'

"I suppose you expect me to feel grateful?"

Aryan inclined his head and regarded the proffered weapon with a wry smile. It was clear from his tone that he did not hold the Keshiri woman in high regard, particularly after she had failed to impress him upon her arrival on the Stardust. She was arrogant and impulsive, and it appeared as if she could also use a lesson or two in order to learn how to rectify her poor decision-making habits. While he understood that her gesture was meant to promote safety by offering him a means to defend himself, she really had to be careful who she decided to hand a blaster off to. It could prove to be...quite deadly.

Without another moment's hesitation, he accepted the blaster rifle and hefted it within his grip, deciding that he quite liked the idea of carrying around something other than his small hold-out weapon. It provided him with an extra layer of reassurance, especially if things took a turn for the worst. He had already convinced himself that the Keshiri, Lenora, would not be all that hard to take care of; it was the other woman, Hesper, that caused him some concern. The fact that she had singularly destroyed the Senate was not something to be taken lightly. He would need to keep a close eye on that one.

Purging his mind of such irreverent thoughts, he turned to follow the two women down the corridor in which he had attempted to make his escape moments before. "Your choices so far have not exactly instilled me with much confidence," he taunted in a mocking tone, eyeing the Kehsiri carefully as he realigned the blaster rifle so that it was resting across his midsection. “Particularly when it comes to your abilities to get me to safety.”

He cocked a brow, fully expecting Lenora to take the bait.

TAG: HanSolo29, Sinrebirth