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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Star Wars OPEN New Sith Trials: Dark Reach: Episode I: An Order Remade

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Lady_Belligerent , Jul 1, 2019.

  1. Snokers

    Snokers Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jul 8, 2015
    IC: Darth Anark
    Dark Dreamer, Taris, the frisk...



    “Strip!”

    Anark's yellow eyes widened. The Sith regarded the inspector before him - was she even that? Had Plo sent a lady of the night to his chambers? No, this wouldn't be the time and that just wasn't in his character.

    He looked her up and down, studying her intently, making zero effort to hide the fact that he was trying to imagine what she looked like under her ridiculous and rather unflattering uniform.

    She was an abnormally tall woman with a bit more build than he would usually look for. He didn't doubt she'd be able to throw him across the room with just a moderate amount of effort if she so wished. But how long had it been since he'd been with anyone? He gave her a salute (gods knows why) and undid his utility belt, careful to keep his lightsaber concealed as he slid the whole thing under the bed. He let his outer robe drop to the floor and pulled his top off as fast as he could.

    You're despicable, the collective remarked, very unamused.

    "Hush," he spat.

    Give the lady what she desires

    Now bare on his top half, Anark offered the inspector a cheeky grin, kicked off both boots with relative ease and yanked down his combat trousers and underwear.

    He held out both arms, still grinning, inviting her to make her move.



     
    Last edited: Feb 20, 2020
  2. Darth Cocytus

    Darth Cocytus Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    May 8, 2016
    Darth Cocytus
    Dark Lord Ascending Part 7

    Cocytus too felt the overwhelming power of the dark side, feeling the fear, anger, hatred and passion, all consuming rage of countless Sith Lords throughout history, who now laid in their tombs.Their dark and burning emotions and voices brought warmth to the Kaminoan’s dark and cold heart. It was these spirits that he wished to make contact with, to gain their ‘blessing’ to restart Darth Bane’s Rule of Two.

    Cocytus glanced at his apprentice, watching her fall onto the floor. He smiled thinly, remembering too his first time experiencing the full power of the Dark Side. It was overwhelming for him at first as it most likely had for any being untouched by Korriban’s darkness. “Relax, my dear, let it flow through you.” Cocytus said gently as he placed a hand on her, “Let all the rage of all these Sith Lords flow through you and become one with you, Let their fears become your fears; let their anger become your anger; let their hatred become your hatred, and their passions become your passions, Only then will your turn to the Dark Side will be complete; will you be one with the Dark Side, and the Dark Side one with you. Only then will the being known as Faya Ne be finally destroyed, and from the ashes rise Darth Styx, Dark Lady of the Sith.”

    Part of Cocytus, however, began to wonder if he chose his apprentice poorly. The universe is made up of two types of beings: those strong enough to seek Power, and those too weak to seek Power. Which one was Darth Styx?

    @Sinrebirth
     
  3. DarthIshyZ

    DarthIshyZ Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Jan 8, 2005
    IC Renn, Serapis, et all
    With a Fracking Emotional Jedi in the Hapan Throne Room

    Renn rode the wave of Force that threatened to slam him into Serapis, for a second, then pushed against the power himself, flinging him at a tangent, away from his fellow Sith. Landing he rolled and as he came to his feet in his place stood a small, wizened form, leaning on a cane, “Strong in the Force, you are. Unprepared for your role in the galaxy, I said.”

    The being’s energy radiated from it, not dark, but light, strong and calm. “Path to the Dark Side, strong emotions are.”

    It shook it’s head, cane raised, pointing at the Hapans, then Luke “Taken at face value are, the words spoken by those known to be treacherous.”

    First picked up with the Force and then physically pushed in the opposite direction. Serapis slammed to the floor of the dais, narrowly missing the throne. "Oof!" was all he got out as the air was expelled from him. He scrambled back to a kneeling position behind the disintigrating throne as he waited for Luke's response to Renn's challenge.

    Luke didn't acknowledge Serapis, simply shaking his head. The other was continuing with his platitudes. The Jedi Master took a deep breath, remembering his lessons. His truths. The Hapan women were liars, yes. He would arrest them too, if this was New Republic space.

    But this wasn't.

    His only authority was over the darksiders, as a Force user too.

    It was his responsibility.

    His mind could feel the echoes of death and violence here.

    He tuned out the perceptions that the wooden one was pouring into the Force.

    They, too, were lies.

    With a nod, Luke advanced, whipping his lightsaber out at a blinding, impossible, speed, and slashed it at waist height across Renn's waist, conscious that he needed to keep his defences high for the other's actions - the one by the throne. He lamented the necessity of his actions, but he struck with sureness and absolute certainty that he needed to end Renn.

    From his vantage point behind Luke, Serapis decided to try using the Force again. He was feeling much stronger in just the last half hour. Time to hazard an attempt. As Luke was swinging his saber, Serapis reached out and grabbed his hand. It was not easy, but he halted the momentum of the glowing blade.

    What to do next? He could try the guards blaster. He'd save that for later. Then he realized the hand of Luke's arm had no presence in the Force. It was artificial. Serapis concentrated hard, down to the smallest point he could. He tried to loosen the hands servos, thus causing them to open and release the saber.

    Renn, in his new form, stood there, cane still pointing at Luke, even as the Jedi whipped his saber at him. Just as he was about to move, possibly taking a little damage, the blade stopped. He could tell it wasn’t from the Jedi’s own choice but he wouldn’t look a gift tauntaun in it’s mouth.

    He rolled backward, the cane coming down and merging back with him and as he stood again he appeared as he normally did, with only two arms at the moment. Renn knew Serapis was trying to do something and he needed to focus Luke’s attention, if not what seemed like anger, on himself to give his companion the time he may need.

    He looked sadly at the Jedi, almost with pity. In a low, but carrying tone, “Jedi, oh young, impulsive, arrogant Jedi, use your fracking brain, not your emotions and think. What Sith truly gives you the chance, again and again, to do so? Whether we are or not matters little, the truth is what matters, and that is more cutting than the use of dark side Force powers.” His saber was to hand but he still had yet to ignite it.

    Luke was surprised by the strike on his hand, and drew the Force to break the grip of Serapis, but not before his hand gave way, releasing the blade. Luke deftly caught it with his free one, already aware that these Acolytes had destroyed one of his hands recently. He used the Force to release his mechanical hand, and sent it hurtling at Serapis as if a dagger, intending to drive it through his thigh and disable him, just as much as he grabbed Renn and pulled him close, lightsaber ignited and held to the enemies throat.

    "Please yield."

    Luke tried one last time.

    As Serapis was pulling on the hand, he was bracing himself against the throne. The sudden release of the hand from Luke's arm sent Serapis skittering back. Still pulling on the hand, though, it came flying at him faster and faster. Luke must be propeling it, too, he thought. He shifted out of the way and impaled itself in the beam behind the throne, causing a scar in the pristine wall. He looked at Ta'a apologetically.

    Luke seemed to be concentrating on Renn, yet again. Serapis pulled the hand from the wall and threw it at Luke's head. "Lemme give you a hand, Jedi!" he quipped. Worst case scenario, Luke would be distracted a bit.

    Renn kept quite still, at least appearing to be so, as the saber kissed his neck. Internally however, things were shifting, he was letting his body rearrange itself, a small smile touching his lips. He saw Luke’s hand detach and chase Serapis across the throne room as he continued rearranging.

    And then, as the hand zipped back at Luke, he finished the internal shifting and allowed his exterior to join in the change. In just a moment Luke went from having Renn by the throat to his whole body having shifted, leaving the Jedi threatening to cut off the selfsame hand he was now missing. He turned his head toward Luke, letting first his eyes and then his whole head, in it’s new position, begin to glow with the purity of the Light, until the radiance could get even this tumultuously emotional Jedi’s attention.

    “Jedi,” in a voice with no trace of darkness or evil in it, “I have tried and tried to get you to use your mind, but I see I must show you.”

    Luke saw the hand coming as the Neti(?) faded away and came apart, turning his head so it slid past, creasing his face. Luke spun out, grabbing at Serapis with the Force to draw him towards the two of them.

    Renn’s voice was a threat, notwithstanding what he kept projecting in the Force. Luke disliked his game they were playing but attempted to keep himself calm. He had asked enough; he slashed at the ‘waist’ of Renn’s mass as he spun, intending to complete the turn and separate Serapis from his head.

    On the floor, the Ser@pis droid, disabled, but functional, watched the confrontation and a compartment snapped open to throw a lightsaber at Serapis as he sailed across the room.

    Serapis was yanked to his feet and dragged bodily across the floor. He grabbed a piece of the throne to stop his momentum. "Nice move, lightsider!" The last word dripping with sarcasm. "If you took just a moment to listen to R..." He lost his grip and continued dragging his way toward Lukes open hand. Just then, he saw the droids open compartment extending the saber. Acting as fast as he could he grabbed the saber in his hand and extended the red blade. He slashed down where Luke's extended arm was. He was not going for a kill if he didn't need to.

    Renn had had enough. With a roar, pulsed out a wave of energy, Light exploding from him, pushing him away from the blade arrowing for his gut. He used a large dose of the energy he’d siphoned when he threatened the Matriarch for her betrayal and attacks against him and his team when they’d arrived, flashing a blindingly white and clear Light as it pushed him away. As he flew backward, Luke now between he and Serapis, he saw his companion flying toward the Jedi, blade snapping into his hand and attacking the man’s other hand, making him glad his fellow Sith hadn’t used the Force in conjunction with his defense or it would have shorted out.

    He’d done all he could to explain it to Luke, but the man flatly refused to listen and, while he’d not wanted to show what he could do, he found that he had to. And the only way to do so was to show, irrevocably, that he could utilize the Light as much as he could use the Dark.

    He landed on his feet, arms extended, sabers to hand, blades snapping on. “But if you must fight, I will, as I will not allow you to use false evidence to hold myself or my companions.” Charging forward he launched forward, in a spin, blades close before snapping them out, seeking not to kill, but to wound, to maim Luke’s near leg as he flew by.

    Luke allowed the blast of light to hit him and carry him clear, nudging himself with the Force to send himself out of the slashing distance of the two foes. A crimson lightsaber lashed out from the man, then the Neti ignited his own blades, professing more platitudes.

    Ta’a and Secciah huddled together. “Why don’t they try to kill the Jedi?”

    The Queen Mother shook her head to her sister. “Remember what our mother said; you have to distract a Jedi to kill him. If they strike at the Jedi Master directly, he will beat him. With them using platitudes and what appear to be disabling attacks - they can confuse him.”

    Secciah didn’t understand. “So they are trying to kill him?”

    “Yes and no,” Ta’a said, firmly.

    Luke rolled away, and allowed his mind to settle. The pair of them made very little sense to him. But they had slew the others here and so that was all that mattered. Just because he hadn’t witnessed their murders didn’t make them any less murderers. That one of them used light based powers didn’t mean they didn’t have the sophistry to lie.

    He clipped his hilt onto his belt and made sure to keep his Force defences up so they couldn’t yank away his blade. With a yank, his hand-less arm used the Force and tugged up their weapons - not to disarm them, no, but to draw their blades up and out of line for when he lifted his other hand and flexed the fingers; emerald lightning burst free, designed to disable and not scald.

    Force Judgement was the name of this power, pioneered by Master Plo Koon. The bolts, if they connected, would cripple their nervous systems and send them tumbling to the ground.

    It was time to end this.

    Serapis' slash went through open air and caused yet another scar in the decor of the throne room. He wondered if they would even have a throne room when they were done. His latest position had him within a few meters of the new queen. While keeping a close eye on his foe he spoke to her. "Queen Ta'a, we will reimburse you for this damage. I assure you of that."

    Luke was gesturing at Serapis and Renn. Somehow Luke shifted the crystal in his saber causing it to go out of alignment. His saber turned off. No time for trying to fix it. Luke shot out green Force Lightning at the two of them. It connected with Serapis causing him to collapse. Serapis' teeth chattered in his head and his body went rigid in convulsions. Finally, mercifully, he passed out.

    Renn felt his sabers being dragged out of line as he’d recovered from his missed strikes at Luke. As they moved he prepared himself, knowing the Jedi would finally strike them. As he began raising his own defenses he had to chuckle as he heard Serapis, the other Sith was right, they’d made a deal and they would take care of their new allies.

    And then lightning flashed from the Jedi, one of the few kinds those devoted to the Light could use. In the pair of moments he had before he was struck he saw Serapis get hit and collapse. ‘Seriously,’ he thought as the initial part of the blast hit him. Luckily his physiology was different enough it gave him an extra moment to raise his defenses. Even as it dropped him to a knee, he threw up a shield, angled to redirect the lightning away from him, hopefully not to do more damage to the throne room.

    Slowly struggling to his feet he saw smoke, steam perhaps, rising from Serapis, apparently he’d accidentally redirected it at his companion. “Apologies, friend.” he muttered under his breath while he worked to bring himself upright to face the Jedi once more. “Hope the galaxy loves this show.”

    Tags: @Sinrebirth @darthbernael @darthhelinith @Snokers
     
  4. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: Arek Eross
    X-83 TwinTail Starfighter, Mustafar

    Shortly after Arek had secured himself back inside the cockpit of his TwinTail fighter, the shuttle decanted from hyperspace with a perceptible shudder. While he did not have a clear view of the Mustafar system itself from this vantage point, one glance at his instrument panel would confirm Insipid’s predictions – time had become displaced. Instead of spending mere hours in hyperspace, their trip had taken weeks.

    It was a ridiculous notion, but they were no longer living under normal circumstances. The astrological rules that bound the galaxy together did not apply to the End of Times. Typhojem had eradicated them to forge a new order – an order of chaos and death. It was a relentless crusade that would not stop until He had reduced everything to ashes.

    The fact that He was so intent on personally hunting them down made Arek’s stomach twist into knots. What made them so important? Was it because they had managed to repeatedly escape from His grasp? Had that wounded Him somehow? Despite His god-like tendencies, did He still suffer from the same human emotions as everyone else?

    What constituted a god?

    Before Arek could slip too far down that philosophical rabbit-hole, his comm crackled to life and brought him back to the present. “Go,” Insipid instructed as an audible thud reverberated throughout his fighter. It was confirmation that the older man had activated the release for the landing claw.

    Arek did not even bother to acknowledge the order. He simply inhaled deeply and tightened his grip around the control stick. At this point, he could only hope that Insipid would follow his own advice and get himself safely to his fighter before it was too late. He couldn’t assist him from here; not yet, anyway.

    When he was clear of the shuttle, Arek toggled the throttle and sent the starfighter careening around to starboard. It only took seconds before the red and black sphere of Mustafar swam into focus outside of his cockpit canopy.

    Along with something else...

    “Whoa, what the frak!” Arek exclaimed as he gritted his teeth and instinctively sent his fighter into a series of evasive maneuvers. While it was a close call, he was still able to successfully avoid a collision with the large, bulbous monster that suddenly appeared beyond his bow. With protruding fangs that adorned either side of its head, black, beady eyes and a snake-like body that seemed to oscillate fluidly in the weightless currents of space, the creature was unlike anything Arek had ever witnessed before.

    Then again, was that so surprising after everything that had transpired in the last few weeks? It was only one more obstacle – one more thing standing in the way of his freedom. He felt his anger surge at that thought, and it made him even more determined to prevail.

    As if to echo these thoughts, Insipid’s voice resounded in his earpiece once more. “Go,” he repeated simply. His tone sounded distant, almost as if he had come to terms with the situation and was willing to accept his fate.

    He was giving up.

    “No, no…no,” Arek muttered to himself, his left hand balling into a fist and connecting with the control panel in frustration. Godsdammit, no!”

    This wasn’t supposed to happen. Arek needed Insipid to complete his task – he was too valuable to simply sacrifice himself for...for what? It didn’t make sense. At this distance, Arek already had a headstart on this creature. He could easily slip through the gap and reach the planet with relative ease. So, why was Insipid stalling? What was he trying to protect?

    Unless it was fear. He had always believed that the Sith used their fear as a tool – was it possible for them to succumb to it in this way?

    Pursing his lips, Arek shook his head in denial. He couldn’t allow that – not now. Acting on pure instinct, he gripped the control stick and began to angle his fighter toward the creature as he made a run for the planet. He intended to draw its attention as he passed by – to afford Insipid some time to get clear. It might be a crazy move, but what other choice did he have?

    As he swiped by the creature’s line of sight, he activated the comm. “You’re coming with me,” he called firmly, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “It'll be a small window, but you should have a clear path. Just follow my lead – I'm already on my way out.”

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
     
    greyjedi125 and Jerjerrod-Lennox like this.
  5. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Vyatoris/Azeth Drost
    Silence on Kesh

    There is no emotion, there is peace. Yet true peace is a lie, there is only passion.
    Vyatoris stepped forwards, his grip tightening around the hilt of his blade.

    There is no passion, there is serenity. But through passion, I find my strength.
    He took another step, his posture relaxing as he slowly approached the group surrounding the crumpled mass that was Insipid.

    In strength and knowledge I find power. With power, there is harmony.

    Insipid smiled, red dribbling from his mouth.

    "Vytorias? Treachery? Now?" Insipid gasped, conscious that Soliloquy was using a degree of his power to merely protect him, a bubble which Vyatoris didn't need protecting - in hindsight. Insipid was proud of the Miraluka. "Well done."


    Through Harmony, I gain victory. Vyatoris gave a short nod, more out of respect than anything else.. "I learned from the best.."

    He glanced towards the many shifting forms of Soliloquy, to the tantalizing offer of impossible knowledge. Knowledge, which, on its own should have been enough to reach a decision. But there was a price to such a boon. A price with Soliloquy itself had suffered from. Servitude to the shifting plans of an arrogant Master, never to be set free.

    Vyatoris wanted to be free of such chains. "I remember what happened at the feast so long ago Soliloquy, how you tried to be free of.. of all this-" he said, tilting his head towards Insipid. "This is our chance.. I won't let it slip away again, even I must pay the final price to achieve it."

    Vyatoris stopped once more, a mere 25 feet away. Sian had the powerhouses distracted for the moment, and Soliloquy itself was under just enough stress where he might just have a chance of victory against the holocron. Vyatoris stared at Shimmer, who had begun administering some basic form of first aid to Insipid. Shimmer was of no threat, that much he was sure of..

    That being said, Insipid's mind transfer abilities were the real enigma to work through. The Miraluka grimaced to himself. If he was able to get past Soliloquy and put an end to the Emperor, was anything stopping him from taking over the mind of Shimmer? Or even worse, could Insipid take over his own mind?

    Vyatoris exhaled slowly, calming his thoughts, savoring in the unique silence within his psyche. A stillness which he had been devoid of for far too long. Such a quiet was an answer in of itself..

    Through Victory, the Force sets me free..


    The Miraluka had been secretly bathing in the rampant hatred and raw power spewed across the area, both via Sian, Manticore, and Bernael, a power he would certainly need if he were to have any chance against his self appointed Master. Vyatoris became a sudden blur of movement, charging towards Soliloquy with lightsaber held in a seemingly awkward backhanded grip behind him.

    He lept upwards in a tight corkscrew, twisting and turning his body in an odd undulation overhead. He let out a mad cackle of laughter, bathing in the enormous power of those fighting around him. Such power could not be safely consumed, so instead, like a conduit, Vyatoris extended an open palm, sending out torrents of raw lightning towards both Shimmer and Insipid.

    If nothing else, they would be distracted enough to pause any attempt of a mind transfer. If luck was on his side, Shimmer would be nothing more than a burnt crisp.On completion of his overhead arc, Vyatoris would come crashing down directly above Soliloquy, his lightsaber directed to slice diagonally just above the holocron core, its aim to separate holocron from beast..

    Tags: @Sinrebirth , @Mitth_Fisto , @greyjedi125 @darthbernael
     
  6. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darth Insipid
    Well this isn't going well; Kesh

    The Sith Lord-come-Senator-come-God-come...

    So many words.

    Insipid took a deep breath or two, trying to get the body to calm down. He needed this body. Needed the Senator to connect the Sith to the secret Imperials in the Unknown Regions, to take control of the projects of Snoke and this First Order.

    The Kronos twins, they were incredibly powerful, of that there was no doubt. Whatever experiments Snoke had performed on them with the complicity of Darth Bellorum over a year ago... they had been terrible. Sian was unhinged, and Insipid narrowed his eyes as he bit his lip. He cut through the skin with his teeth due to the pain, conscious of Shimmer's efforts, of Manticore's appeal to him -

    Emperor Insipid!the Zabrak had called out, then coughed once. “This usurper dares to wear your vestments. This man has offered himself to become your new body. He is no sith, but will make a worthy sacrifice.”

    Insipid was fighting unconsciousness, but he reached out a connecting mental limb to Manticore, to Bernael, to Leda, and sought to invigorate them, and to draw from them -

    Their foe was no Sith. That was the key -

    Insipid would have told them to use mind addling attacks if Manticore, his warrior mind the keenest of them all, hadn't made that leap -

    He connected to Shimmer, to panicking Esmerelda, and sought Soliloquy, even as he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain rolling up the body, and he allowed their eyes to inform him -

    He even allowed Vyatoris' own impressions to fill him -

    Soliloquy opened -

    "I am mentally around ten thousand years old. Physically?"

    A Croke.

    Even if the others didn't recognize it; Insipid did.

    A Croke.

    The mystery of the long, long, years that Insipid had known Soliloquy, had relied upon his counsel, had dove into the madness of the Celestial Holocron with, had worked beside in their mutual search of a body, to scorn and belittle the Holocron when Insipid lost his patience working him out -

    Now he knew.

    Now they all knew.

    "Secrets or favor of the powerful. You must choose your own path Vyatoris. This is your time." These wet glottal words would reach only his ears and then, then the fog would re-coalesce to what Shimmer and Insipid were seeing and even feeling in the Force. "Choose."

    Insipid coughed, as Shimmer did more and more to him -

    "I remember what happened at the feast so long ago Soliloquy, how you tried to be free of.. of all this-" Vyatoris had said, tilting his head towards Insipid, and with his multi-layered vision, he saw that tilt. "This is our chance.. I won't let it slip away again, even I must pay the final price to achieve it."

    Then the Miraluka leapt, a truly beautiful moment of artistic treachery, a flip over, a paired bolt of lightning arching out and hammering Shimmer and Insipid, who felt his heartbeat become staccato static, all of this occurring as Soliloquy held the attacks of the cloaked-man - of Kronos' son - at bay -

    Vyatoris swept his blade down at the Croke heart.

    The Miraluka had chosen.

    Insipid forced himself to draw the Force close -

    ---
    The powerhouses

    Sian had been feigning injury, and they had seen through it, but he knew that his blaze of power, even now wreathing his body, had cut into their reserves. The woman, Leda, he knew, wasn't responding as swiftly as the Zabrak and the Anzati, who had leaped forward in one swift motion. Sian felt Manticore gather his attack, and Sian raised a hand to merely turn the man aside, focusing his power to break every bone in the fools body with a single, monstrous, attack -

    He was no Sith.

    The thought reverberated in the Force, causing a moment of hesitation, a moment in which he would have surely killed Manticore -

    Then the mind shard hit -

    The scream he released would rip into and through the three Sith facing him, but it was an undirected attack, an animals response, Sian rolled away, trying desperately to defend itself from the pain even now consuming him -

    Manticore's slash caught him across his chest, the tip of the blade slashing through meat and bone, some reptilian part of his mind allowing him to recognize that his heart had been narrowly missed -

    Bernael's strike was true, ripping apart his legs, rending flesh and sending Sian tumbling aside as if a doll -

    He waggled his fingers, eyes lolling, mouth agape, willing himself to stay awake -

    His mind wrapped around the attack on his consciousness, replicated it, and he drove his own mind shard into Manticore, Bernael and Leda, a thought driven through their immediate defenses, but perhaps not to the point of compulsion -

    Kill.

    Kill each other.

    Now.

    Sian rolled away, trying to keep himself from bleeding out -

    ---
    Esmerelda

    One ship was gone, destroyed in this incredible brawl. A shard of glass had ripped open her cheek to the bone, and she had bruises up and down her form from being tossed around, and burn medallions on her arm where lightning had touched it for merely a second -

    She was lucky to be alive.

    Enough with luck.

    Watching her clone - her Force sensitive clone - rush out with medical supplies from the second ship, Esme rushed forward, and slapped the ramp close -

    Gunning the engines, she lifted away from the violence, out of the maelstrom -

    She was going to find Kronos.

    In doing so she abandoned the Sith to Kesh -

    ---
    Impact

    There wasn't much which could be said to describe just what happened when Vyatoris lashed out at Soliloquy's Heart.

    The Holocron shell flickered in the last instance, and the lightsaber impacted -

    Plasma met crystal -

    Crystal exploded -

    There was a massive explosion of purple -

    The holocron that housed Soliloquy was old. Ten thousand years old was the age of the Croke within; the components, the rest? They all had their own stories.

    It couldn't yet be said how much of the Holocron exploded -

    It couldn't be said exactly what was released -

    Was it memory, given shape by the dark magicks that Soliloquy had collated?

    Was it spirit, trapped by the Croke?

    But two immediately convalesced.

    [​IMG]

    Darth Revan, of the prior timeline

    One spirit was solid, a memory of when Soliloquy had known him, given form and perhaps sentience.

    The twin blades spun, turning to the three combatants - Manticore, Bernael, Leda -

    Negligently, he thrust a blade through Shimmer's arm, and she fell to the ground, screaming -

    Revan paid the Croke no heed, his memory scattered, for he was but memory -

    [​IMG]

    The Master of Nouane

    Another spirit rose up, and acquired form.

    It turned, looming, a visage that Vyatoris would recognise as the man who locked him away for a thousand years.

    Insipid grimaced, his non-verbal words reaching out for everyone.

    "Who are you?"

    The man allowed a grin to roll into the Force.

    "Oh, I guess there's no harm in telling you."

    Nobody else could comment upon what was released from Soliloquy's mind or memory or heart -

    The other images, only Soliloquy could explain.

    ---
    Sian

    A bloody stain across the floor, Sian would have reached out for his mother for help, had he thought of Esmerelda as his mother.

    He was dying -

    A second ship.

    Another ship was coming.

    It was the one Merel had stolen from Hapes.

    His sister had came to Kesh for him.

    They were retreating while they still had confusion on their side.

    Whatever Vyatoris had done -

    Sian, as he was levitated to the ramp of the hovering ship, reached out a limp hand -

    "Come, Miraluka, or stay with what you have wrought."

    Merel peered out of the cockpit at the disaster below, a sneer to her face.

    TAG: @QueenSabe7, @greyjedi125, @darthbernael, @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough (guys, please allow Mitth to confirm if any other memory/spirit/monsters emerge from the broken parts of himself)
    ---
    IC: Luke Skywalker

    Edge of the Hapes Cluster, Star Home, Royal Palace

    His lightning coruscated across the throne room. Luke felt guilt, but pressed it aside. He couldn’t afford any doubts in his actions; doubts were corrosive.

    These acolytes seemed to enjoy spreading doubts.

    But Luke had, not three years earlier, stood in front of Emperor Palpatine and his father, Darth Vader. To compare these to those Sith Lords was impossible; were either to arrive here and now, the acolytes would fall.

    The Neti, for it couldn’t be much else, still stood, but the human was down. The droid had supplied a lightsaber to the latter, so Luke remained aware of that. He focused anew, his lightning coupled with a Force push with the intention of trapping the Neti against the far wall.

    Then he would continue until he fell into unconsciousness.

    Luke grimaced at the need for this -

    And then the ship shook. There was music cutting across speakers and Hapan comlinks as an override was employed -

    Then explosions -

    TAG: @Anark (post what you have as Bo), @darthhelinith (post before @DarthIshyZ and @darthbernael).
    —-
    IC: Styx

    Moraband

    Pain.

    So much pain.

    The dark side roared through the Kaminoan, and she felt the gaze of Cocytus, which so often felt like two pairs of eyes peering down at her.

    Styx was seemingly growing to sense the Sidious AI...

    ... she also sensed something akin to pity, or perhaps disgust from Cocytus. That was unacceptable. That was - not - allowed. Drawing upon her anger at her Master, she snarled, gritting her teeth in a most un-Kaminoan way.

    Her rage expressed itself almost of it’s own accord; her hand lifted and the Force reached for his throat.

    GoooOOOoood.

    The Sidious AI was bemused.

    TAG: @Darth Cocytus
    —-
    IC: Darth Insipid, Lesser

    Old timeline, End of Time, near Mustafar

    The monsters eyes seemed to be locked with his, and Insipid was trapped in it. Some part of his mind knew that he was being compelled, that he had fallen foul of a mental spell, but he couldn’t gather the might to shake it.

    He didn’t even hear Arek.

    But then the TwinTail darted across their line of sight, and Insipid had a moment to blink, and the monster snarled in annoyance, a noise heard in his mind rather than across space. It’s clawed hand arched down for the shuttle even as it tried to bite at Arek as he passed -

    Insipid stabbed a button and drew the Force to yank him out of the cockpit as the doors snapped shut. The escape-pod-cockpit rocked forward, at full speed as preprogrammed -

    A dance with the Force put Insipid in his cockpit, skipping the preflight checklist and disengaging the docking claw with his mind, sending himself lurching out the shuttle bay -

    The monsters movements were far faster than the TwinTail, it’s teeth reaching around Arek’s cockpit -

    The pod-cockpit triggered its hyperdrive as the creature reared, and the pod-cockpit cut through the monster -

    It reared back, screaming in their minds, Insipid wincing as he tried to spin out his TIE Blur - essentially an old TIE Bomber with the bomb-chute replaced with stealth equipment - the dying creatures death-writhing seeing its claw impale the shuttle -

    Then their scopes were flooding with dozens of coralskippers -

    “Go,” Insipid said, triggering every countermeasure he had and emptying his entire magazine of flares - Insipid had fought in the first Yuuzhan Vong War; he knew how to adjust the gravitic signature of a missile to match his Blur. For the Vong, twenty four more ships matching his had appeared and they fell into utter disarray -

    Or focused on the one TwinTail -

    Though as distant to the planet as to him, two coralskippers abandoned shielding to rush to catch up with Arek -

    Insipid wanted to open fire, to force the coralskippers to slow down as they diverted their gravitic engines to defence, but to do so would tell the enemy which of his ‘Insipid flares’ was really him.

    He simply gunned his engines and dove through the very confused swarm, a hundred-off fighters crossing paths with each other and firing at flares -

    TAG: @HanSolo29
     
  7. Darth Cocytus

    Darth Cocytus Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    May 8, 2016
    Darth Cocytus
    Dark Lord Ascending Part 8

    Darth Cocytus watched Darth Styx carefully, a thin smile growing on his lips, feeling her pain from the intense power of the Dark Side. The smile grew as the pain within her turned to rage. She was embracing the Dark Side as such any Dark Lord of the Sith should. However, Cocytus also felt a sense of… awareness…

    His eyes widened as Cocytus suddenly felt a touch on his long neck and, seeing Styx’s hand raised, curled his lips into a cold and hideous smirk. His apprentice was strong in the force, but her power was still nothing compared to that of fully trained Sith Master. The male kaminoan joined Sidious AI’s bemusement and gave out a cold laugh as, through the force, he tore Styx’s attempt of a hold on him away.

    “Goooood.” Cocytus laughed. “Excellent. How cute. An Apprentice’s first attempt to overthrow the Master. Yes. Very much of the Rule of Two. But alas, not so fast… You still have much to learn and have yet to truly experience the power of the Dark Side. As such…”

    As if in demonstration Darth Cocytus raised his hands and unleashed storm of Sith Lightning from his tridactyle fingers upon Darth Styx. “Whatever your mother has taught you of the Force…” he said with cold chuckles as he tortured her, “It is nothing compared to the true teachings of the Sith… The power I’m unleashing upon you? It can be yours as well… As long as the Apprentice obeys the Master. Do you understand?"

    @Sinrebirth
     
  8. darthhelinith

    darthhelinith Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Feb 10, 2009
    When we last saw Helinith, she was in a turbo lift, racing towards the bridge of Song of War. Unfortunately, an explosion tore through the turbolift shafts and Helinith became MIA. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

    "All personnel, stand by to receive escape pods from 'Song of War'. Repeat, stand by to receive escape pods from 'Song of War'. This is not a drill."

    "What the hell is going on down there? Thought all the pods had been dealt with." Dex Kariya grunted, turning from his lonely patrol route in the Peacemaker to run towards the hangars. His squad mate shrugged. "Damned if I know. They're not likely to tell us till debrief."

    The men clattered along a narrow corridor which led past just some of the ship's stores, and ran along the bottom of the ship's lower 'dinnerplate', close to the armoured hull. 'Peacemaker's captain had directed the ship close above 'Song of War', so he could tractor beam in evacuees escaping the (overzealous) sith extermination attempts.

    There was an ear-splitting crash. Both men were thrown violently forwards and to the ground. Behind them, a large, cylinder object had thrust into the hull and was now firmly wedged upright in the corridor, dividing it in two. Dex, rolling over onto his back, could make out what looked like the glass door of a turbo lift. Much to his amazement, a short woman dressed in a black jumpsuit and barefoot, stepped out of it like it was the most normal thing in the world. She was armed with a Hapian blaster and looked around her curiously.

    "Well this doesn't seem right."

    IC: Darth Helinith
    Location: Hapean Battle Dragon 'Peacemaker'

    While Helinith was not intimately familiar with the layout of a Hapian battle dragon, she knew enough about ships to infer the corridor her turbolift had stopped in was neither important nor anywhere near the bridge. She sighed, frustrated. It was looking increasingly less likely she would get that stupid captain after all. The guards drew their blasters and pointed them; one advanced on her.
    "Who the Hapan Hell are you?"
    The other went to head to palm the console, and activate the alarm, taking advantage of the new arrivals crashed moment. However, Helinith could sense a recognisable presence; the unconscious Takaris Yur, secret apprentice to Darth Insipid, sleeping in a nearby cell. The Peacemaker had taken aboard the sole Sith they had managed to successfully capture.

    "I surrender! I'm unarmed! Pax! I need to be arrested for grievous ship bodily harm."
    Helinith grinned and raised her hands, (including the blaster) in the air. Behind her, two small throwing knives slipped themselves off silently the back of her belt and travelled up her back, hiding behind her shoulders. The one reaching for the alarm paused, and lowered his hand to raise his blaster and approach, as the first lowered his blaster instead and raised stun cuffs for her wrists.
    "On your knees, and drop the blaster."
    They were lulled in by her apparent surrender, seemingly. Sweet of them.

    Helinith's hands came down, presenting her wrists, and the knives flew over her shoulders and into the necks of the two guards at high velocity. They gurgled and fell to the floor, clutching at the blood pouring from their throats. Helinith stepped over them and began to proceed down the corridor. Now where was the Kreshiri boy? A pulse in the Force told her the approximate direction, and it was relatively close; between here and the gaggle of busybodies that had to be the bridge crew; the prison area was some decks down, and while there were life signs in the Force, there were more electrical ones; two humans and four droids of some kind. The Force warned her about those; they had an angular air to them, which implies battle droids.

    The ship’s layout was accessible from the console, and it wouldn’t raise any red flags if she did so; in many ways, she had as much access to the bridge as the prison block - in that she could walk through the main and only entrance to both, and both has ventilation shafts though the prison one’s were designed to seal the prisoners inside... and gas them, it was likely. Smart Hapans, as ever. The comlink of one of the downed and beautiful men rang out.
    “Report; cams are still down so we can’t track you; what debris hit us? The Queen Mother is expected imminently and I want all issues resolved before she arrives.”
    Helinith swore under her breath and picked up a com, clearing her throat and trying out a masculine voice.
    "Missiles caused a turbo lift to pressure-pop from Song of War. It's rammed our hull and atmosphere is leaking. The corridor is completely blocked, we're working on clearing the debris."
    She closed the communication without waiting for a response and headed over to the nearest vent. If she was going to take over a Hapian battle cruiser, it was gonna be on her terms. The other side of the call acknowledged her comments and passed them on to the Star Home, which had just arrived. Avarice and malice poured its way into the Force, as well as a cloud of new minds and arrivals. Helinith would be able to sense that the Queen Mother was here.

    She was running out of time.

    Helinith had both intimate and expert experience of ventilation systems and she removed the cover with little effort. Lifting herself into the ventilation, she replaced the cover and began a crawl towards the electrical wires she could see crossing through the duct around 10 meters away. From there, it was easy enough to strip wires and plug in her datapad. The data was not encrypted, and she quickly downloaded floor maps. Streams of highly sensitive information were passing through, including data from targeting systems, commands to weapons and feedback from temperature and automated warhead loading. She had to stuff a fist in her mouth to prevent herself from squeaking in joy. She could take over the entire ship.

    Not here. Not here. Get away from dead men. Server room will be secure. Easy to defend.

    The server room was adjacent to the engine room, as often the IT guys and Engineering worked hand-in-hand. It thus was near the centre of the Battle Dragon,close to the engines. It took her away from the bridge and the prison bay, but Takaris Yur nonetheless sensed her and reached out to her with the Force; they didn't know each other, so all the Keshiri Sith managed to do was cause a question mark to bubble up in the mental space between the two of them.

    The server room, however, was lightly manned; it was not the engine room, as I say, and thus could be secured and barricaded to protect the sensitive and vulnerable reactor; indeed the engine room could seal the crew inside, if the reactor began to leak. Precautions standard to any starship; indeed some advanced starships could eject their reactor. It would leave them nearly powerless, but there you go. At least they weren't dead from a leaking reactor, or, worse, exploding one.

    As such the room of computers and software was occupied by a single Hapan male - for men often had the lesser jobs in the Consortium, and a rather banal Protocol droid, all silver and polished because after all it was a Hapan ship in the Royal Navy that served the Queen Mother directly, so such things were important. To top it all off, T3-AL or Teal, had a female personality to ensure the lowly tech did as he was told. Curious, Helinith watched the protocol droid with interest. Could she bend it to be of some use? She reached a hand to her belt. Kriff. No lightsaber. Knives it would have to be, then.Silently, she shifted herself into a seated position and closed her eyes. A thin knife rose from her belt and slipped through the metal grating like a thread through a needle. It glided slowly down the side of one of the server banks, weaving slightly between bundles of wires, and glided across the floor. She sent it to hide behind an inactive mouse droid as the protocol droid shifted suddenly to face her charge.

    "My monitoring systems have informed me the Queen mother has arrived. Have you fixed the memory leak in the sub-air filtration network?"
    The man a few paces away shrugged, his back turned. "Working on it. If you helped me out, it'd get done quicker Teal."
    "That is not my job."
    "Of course not."
    Helinith sensed (rather than saw) him roll his eyes. However, it was of little consequence. In a second more, her dagger had shot through his neck and he slumped to the floor.

    "Technican? Technician do you require medical assistance?" The protocol droid took a step towards the body and bent over it awkwardly.
    Helinith took her chance and slid out of the vent, creeping up behind the droid.
    "Technician I will fetch a medical kit for you." The droid straightened up and Helinith leapt at it, trying to find a port in the neck where she could plug in her data pad. The droid turned, surprised, not so much swiping at Helinith but shifting in an ungainly manner its feet. The data pad went in, but in the clatter their legs became entangled and it landed face-down.

    Loudly.

    "What was that?" Another call came from elsewhere in the area. Jabbing a little harder than necessary in her urgency at the datapad, Helinith swore softly under her breath, as she lay on top of the droid. She watched the progress of the file transfer- a script which would run a malicious code injection- driven by the sound of approaching footsteps.

    ...98%, 99%, 100%! Yes! She glanced behind her, yanked out the data pad and flipped herself up onto the ceiling. Landing softly, bare feet first, she drew into a crouch and readied a knife.

    Below her, the protocol droid began the long process of rising to its feet. M3de-A v.13.02 (Medea) didn't look anything like her last appearance- the protocol chassis wasn't ideal- but it was something.

    "Hello Mistress, what are your orders today?" It looked down at its body. "Oh, I have a new form today. A... Hapan Protocol Droid, oh my!" There was a little titter to its voice.

    The footsteps continued to approach, but the droid turned away, winking a photoreceptor as it went. "What's going on," came a gruff voice.

    Medea put on its most obnoxious voice. "I fell. I stood back up. Your assistance here is not needed, I assure you." She shooed the Hapan, and he glared balefully and went to go.
    After a moment, Medea looked back. "Mistress? To whom do you require pain inflicted upon today? Is there a door you require slicing into so I may drop it upon a victim when they walk through? Or some oxygen you require switching off?" The expressionless droid conveyed excitement. "Perhaps I can increase the oxygen this time, so they have a seizure!"
    Helinith chuckled at the droid's rapturous enthusiasm.
    "It's like you can read my mind Medea. But first, can you go 'clean up'"- and here she jabbed a thumb in the direction of the orderly who had just left them. "We also need to find some breathing apparatus first before we can go playing around with the life-support. Any maintenance sort of space suit would do, just in case we need to leave this nice little safe space and do some work elsewhere."

    Medea saluted. "Of course, ma'am." Off it wandered, and a scream echoed out, a splatter of blood across the floor rang out. The protocol droid was humming as it went.
    "Mistress, I have a re-breather for you. I broke the other ones, of course." There was a lot of red on its arms. "Do you like my new look?"
    "Red is the new teal." Helinith grinned and dropped to the floor, taking the rebreather from Medea's outstretched arms and wiping the blood off onto her sleeve.

    "Now as far as oxygen levels go, I think quickest and easiest is probably to lower them," she continued, placing the helmet over her head. She hadn't forgotten Takaris Yur but he needed to free himself if he was to be of any use. She sent him a mental image of a rebreather and left him to figure out the rest. She'd broken in and out of prisons at a younger age- if he couldn't free himself from a brig, he wasn't going to be much use, nor, in her opinion, an apprentice worth Insipid's time and effort.
    "I'm going to try and patch into some coms and do some scans, see if we can figure out where everyone else is and what the hell is going on."
    Medea dutifully obeyed, lowering the oxygen level. Yur, as a matter of fact, was just fine, but she’d discover that later.

    The droid tapped away. “Mistress, without interference, it will be relatively simple to divert controls to the auxiliary bridge.” A datapad popped out of a port. “Directions on there, Mistress. But with a slight look - your comrades were taken to the Queen Mother’s Royal Palace; I gather there is a lockdown in effect so presumably they have caused...”
    Medea paused, for dramatic effect.
    “... a bloody mess. The Song of War is in the midst of being taken back by the Hapans, so... I imagine that you’ll need to use the bridge to save the day or something similar.”

    Helinith nodded, pleased at the droid's quick and summative assessment of the situation. Maybe she could use her to help her write the report when it was all over. Had it been Darth Persence who had told her to take notes during sorties, so as to make it quicker to write about them later? Administrative tasks aside, she had some asses to rescue. She glanced at the tablet.
    "Right-ho. Make sure the servers stay up and running Medea, maybe we should start work on a malicious upload that can take over key systems on the Song of War, so we can try out that Oxygen raising thing. Oh and if you meet a young Kreshi lad, he's one of ours, under the wing of the former master." She didn't have to say more, Medea would know what that meant. She threw the droid a remote comm-link from a set that were lying on a technician's desk. "Keep me updated, I'll call if I need you."

    With a spring in her step, Helinith used the datapad she had been given by the droid to let herself through the thick, shielded doors and out into the hallway beyond.
    This hallway was empty, but the next had three bodies of crew members slumped against each other. Helinith wasn't interested in these, they were either dead or soon to be, so she continued towards the auxillary bridge, following the directions on the pad that Medea had given her.

    The auxiliary bridge was in a similar state of disrepair, but it was occupied by a knot of eight droids, who looked back at Helinith. They were all Protocol models, and clearly part of some kind of backup system, detached from the mainframe. They promptly exploded outwards in a surge of wires and reaching hands for her -

    These were no ordinary droids.

    "Kriff!"
    Helinith ducked and slid to the right. The wires followed, groping for her limbs and hair. She sent out a force push towards the two nearest droids and they toppled over, however her attention was stolen by the wires they had shot, which had momentarily become tangled. Inspired, she decided to try something a little different. She used the force to continue to unwind the wires hidden inside the droids bodies, gathering them into a one place. She then split them apart, taking the moiety of them to follow her hand gestures as she muttered to herself.

    "Left... over right.... and under...." Her hands conducted and the wires followed obediently.
    "Right.... over left...... and under!"

    She raised her hands in triumph, and the knot of wires, hands and droids fell to the floor, twitching as an upside down spider. The two droids she had first toppled had stumbled to their feet, so she force pushed them -hard- into the durasteel wall behind her. Finally, she took a quick picture of her handiwork with her datapad for future bragging rights. The command consoles beeped, reminding her of her purpose in coming here, and she skipped over to it. The droids parts split into a dozen components and seeped into each other, revealing that they had always been one droid. It was some kind of chimera design, and Medea came across the comms.

    "Mistress, have you taken control of the auxiliary bridge yet? There is a system resisting me, and I cannot guarantee that I will control the ship for long. The wireless connection to the Song of War is proving difficult to establish.. and the Keshiri is not in his cell?"
    The behemoth exploded outwards, filament like spears of wire rushing at Helinith. She groaned.

    "Oh that's just not fair. This was supposed to be easy!"

    She dodged again but the machine had learned from its previous mistake and rolled with her, filaments inches away and closing fast. Doggedly, Helinith sent out a jolt of force lightning, melting the ends of the filaments to blunt blobs. The threads instead whipped themselves painfully across her face and skin and tangled around her limbs, threatening to pull her to the ground. With a rising panic, she tried to force push them away. The threads dug into her skin as her own power threatened to rip them off. Helinith was running out of options. She grabbed handfuls of the filaments and sent a huge burst of force lightning up them, hoping the droid wasn’t insulated enough to resist such an electrical surge.

    The wires exploded, completely and utterly, giving Helinith stars in her eyes but suddenly leaving her, skin punctured but only on the surface, hair standing on end for a moment, before silence took the auxiliary bridge.
    "Mistress?" Medea said. "A small ship just fled Star Home, it's jump coordinates are for a location not on my charts?" It would be, if Helinith reviewed them, be Kesh, which was alarming enough as she would have no sensation that any of the others had left.

    Otherwise, the Force was building with the pressure of someone coming.
    Someone powerful in the Light Side of the Force.
    That someone was Luke Skywalker.
    Even if Renn and Serapis and maybe Bo had succeeded, whatever it was - she needed to press on to take control before it reached them.

    "Him."

    A whispered note, like a hiss, escaped her lips. The murderer of the first master. Having been stuck over one hundred years after his death, she'd assumed he had escaped justice for ever. Now fate, along with Insipid's meddling, had dropped him right into her lap. But there was more. He was strong. Too strong. Helinith was jealous but she wasn't a fool.

    "Medeia, we gotta get the others and get the heck outta dodge, there's a ship coming. As soon as it is within range, unload every single payload we have at it."

    Meanwhile, she opened every broadcasting channel she had, and began to sing, directed at where she sensed her teammates.



    "I'm not the damsel in distress
    I'm not your girlfriend
    Or the frightened princess
    I'm not a little bird
    Who needs your help to fly
    Nope, I'm the bad guy

    All these badass sith that you see
    Each of them, with shaking knees
    Has knelt before me.”
    She laughed.
    “Hi boys. Hope you’ve not been having too much fun without me.”

    Medea spoke up through the channel, but not heard at her end. "Ma'am, I feel as if you need a punchline - " A console lit up remotely ."We do have control of the guns..."
    The X-wing was landing on the Hapan monarch's ship, vehicle, palace thing, and the Force almost immediately exploded into violence.
    "May I suggest we open fire on the Palace and escape in the conclusion?"
    "Fire away Medea," Helinith replied, "the jedi might have beaten us to it, but we can always add some chaos of our own."

    Renn and Serapis were there, in the Force, but, all of a sudden, so too was Takaris Yur, Insipid's other apprentice. Bo was also somewhat present, groggily but conscious at last.
    It seemed as if Luke had also awoken him...

    Tag: @darthbernael @DarthIshyZ @Snokers
     
  9. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Soliloquy
    Remembering, feeling, discovering. . .Kesh

    Death is one of those things, when you have lived a few thousand years among lesser species, it transforms. From the known inevitability of someday, to the constant companion constantly changing the display and varieties of people around you. It all rises and falls so quickly out here, beyond the reach. Always hanging nearby it was not foreign, it was present, acknowledged, and in a small way disdained. A step of life that seemed far to active.

    Now, now it came whispering in his ear. Vibrating up his legs. Making his hairs stand on end in defiance of the form everyone else was allowed to see of a bald and glowing creature. An Asogian whose mouth opened in a pitchy and rattling scream. All this, all this as his apprentice sliced through the ephemeral belly and through the top of his holocron. He had half wondered, and had since he had made it from scavenged things if it was with sorcery deep enough to stop a lightsaber blade? That answer was now laid bare, for it was not. Crystals shattered and components vaporized. The heavy thick magics that layered through and over all of it causing a spectacular mingling that many Love Forelorn Sith of ages past would of given four limbs happily to be able to create!

    Simulacrums, phantasmal recreations. Memories. Souls. It made little difference as they were given a spark of phantasmal life and erupted into being as they poured wholly formed from his sliced open belly that had exploded in a vision of purple.

    Impact

    The components, the rest? They all had their own stories.

    It couldn't yet be said how much of the Holocron exploded -

    It couldn't be said exactly what was released -But two immediately convalesced.

    [​IMG]

    Darth Revan, of the prior timeline

    One spirit was solid, a memory of when Soliloquy had known him, given form and perhaps sentience. They had talked long and often for a time after Soliloquy had found the other in his prison. Long and often as Soliloquy studied that prison and was making his holocron, gathering parts.

    The twin blades spun, turning to the three combatants - Manticore, Bernael, Leda -

    Negligently, he thrust a blade through Shimmer's arm, and she fell to the ground, screaming -

    Revan paid the Croke no heed, his memory scattered, for he was but memory - "Old friend!" he mingled with the bellowing cry of pain. And then the other-

    [​IMG]

    The Master of Nouane

    Another spirit rose up, and acquired form.

    It turned, looming, a visage Soliloquy recognized as the one that had caught him in his pilfering for parts to build his holocron. Caught and released with no consequences.

    Insipid grimaced, his non-verbal words reaching out for everyone.

    "Who are you?"

    The man allowed a grin to roll into the Force.

    "Oh, I guess there's no harm in telling you."

    Now there was one answer Soliloquy would dearly like to know.


    Only that was not the end. This was not the last form to escape. The next to coalesce did so in a billow of radiant green smoke as a Nightsister took form, a bit of soul yet there was in that one as she scuttled away up the downed ship after leaping over Shimmer and Insipid. Her bow at the ready. He was unsure if she would be resentful or even aware of what he had done to her, using her as a battery for hundreds of years.

    [​IMG]

    Next was an old friend. One that was given soul indeed. No introduction for Digery Kirk. The man was a Sorcerer of Tund and one of the first that straddled teacher and student and friend to Soliloquy. One had had save a piece of soul of in earnest.

    "Kirk!" he proclaimed with pained joy as felt the spilling of the last of the form to stand back in guarded fashion. Hollow eyes staring at empty sockets of the Miraluka. What would happen was any beings guess.

    [​IMG]

    Then a rupture of memories sprang forth in a triad, old students of the Sith, a mirage of memories of so many he had trained and drained and discarded over the old ages. . . simple and forgettable.

    [​IMG]

    Then another, another memory and partial thing came forward. An inquisitor of the old timeline. A taozin amulet surely fit beneath that armor as he strode out and away from Soliloquy's prone form. Gesturing as though to stir some great action as he came into being. Whatever that might be, it was good the Keshiri were not in sight.

    [​IMG]

    A Jawa with a water bucket of clear crystal and rehydrated mushroom scurried out and wattled careful not to spill away from the battle. The wise would not mess with that one, for even Soliloquy could not remember what to call her with her red eyes.

    [​IMG]

    Next was a distorted memory, from the Mortis vision that he had killed and drank the brains of. The bald misformed man that had seemed to only want a friend. A memory mixed with other things now. . .

    [​IMG]

    Then with a surge some great thing uncoiled into the sky above, a rupture and then it fell to the side. Fell where the ship had been before Esmerelda had absconded with it. A male Sarlacc amid various animal parts.

    [​IMG]

    Then once more a great erruption and there it was. The youngling floating in the sky. The young lady. "That was an adventure." Soliloquy sighed as the eruptions subsided. Staring for a moment at the young woman, the young Star Dragon that twisted in the sky. One he had beguiled into his web until there was nothing left of outside of it. Not until now. He had not thought of her, of many of them in so long.

    [​IMG]

    Sending a healing surge of power at Insipid he awaited, watching and waitng for what would happen now. For now. For now he did not even know, nor did he want to make the first move as he took stock of himself and his Holocron.

    TAG: @ALL
     
  10. greyjedi125

    greyjedi125 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Apr 29, 2002
    IC: Manticore
    Kesh, Sundering Darkness

    Time seemed to slow for the Lord of Hate. He was poised to drive the Mind Shard into his target when the dilation occurred in his perceptions, a moment that in reality could scarcely be measured.

    But in that moment, he felt a powerful voltaic connection with Darth Insipid, and with that connection, came knowledge, awareness. Not just of the Emperor, but of the entire combat theatre and those upon it.

    His target, the would-be-usurper, was Sian, son of Kronos, aberration of the Force. Dark Twin.

    Manticore knew his target had been feigning weakness and knew it for a certainty now. He could also feel as the usurper exerted his monstrous force powers upon his charred form, as he attempted to exert influence over his flesh and bone in order to shatter him utterly. The Lord of Hate would never, ever relent- his attack had to succeed, no matter the cost.

    So, Vyatoris was a confirmed traitor who was in league with the usurper. Well, he had the Emperor’s admiration as reward- if that was the currency he set out to purchase. But at the risk of the Sith Order itself?

    Foolishness

    Sian was No Sith.

    The vehement sentiment reverberated powerfully through the Force for one and all, and in that moment, the usurper hesitated - and it was more than enough.

    Manticore landed his attacks with calculated viciousness, the Mind Shard exploding into his victim’s consciousness, followed by a lethal strike.

    Sian screamed once again with a shockwave of released power.

    Vyatoris’ treacherous blade sliced into Soliloquy, causing a massive explosion of purple. Lightning poured from his free hand at both Shimmer and the Emperor.

    Time, or his perception of it, resumed its normal flow. Power, Darkness,Treachery, Deception, Destiny, Will, Life, Death. Transformation. So many dynamics were all at play, all vying for supremacy in this moment.

    Manticore was vaguely aware of Esmeralda fleeing the scene, even as he was thrown to one side like a discarded rag doll, several ribs breaking in the process. With his enhanced senses, he could taste Sian’s blood, thanks to Bernael, The Lord of Hunger. The Anzati had dealt a grievous and maiming wound to the usurper. Sian’s pain as felt through the force, was oddly satisfying to the zabrak- not because it was something he relished- but as Retribution.

    Certainly Leda, the Lord of Pain was drinking deeply from it.

    Through their connection, it became clear that Insipid had no need of Sian’s form; in that case, the son of Kronos fate was to die. Perhaps his spoils would serve some good purpose.

    But before Manticore could even prepare to deal a final blow, wounded as he was, Sian reversed his position as he exerted a Massive Mind Shard attack of his own, thanks to the incredible power he possessed.

    A lifetime ago, Manticore’s now dead Master had breached his mental defenses, forcing him to perform the most horrific act of his entire life- which he eventually paid for with his own life. Thereafter, the zabrak fashioned a defensive mental bulwark of such impregnable proportions, that it took one as mighty as Typhojem himself to penetrate it. Only due to his weakened state after the battle of Mortis, was Snoke able to pierce his depleted defenses. Sian would find he was powerful, but presently lacking in that specific endeavor, unless he truly focused on the zabrak.

    Manticore only wished to kill Sian. No one else. That was this sole focus. Once his Will was set, not even the Left-Handed Lord could turn him. Still, he had to fight-off the debilitating effects of the mental attack brought against him. The son of Kronos, wounded or not, still possessed vast powers that were not to be easily denied.

    Even so, the usurper had managed to cause his attackers to pause long enough for him to make his escape, thanks to his twin sister, Merel. Another monstrously powerful being in the force, who piloted their get-away-ship.

    Manticore growled, shaking off his mental disorientation. He was in so much pain now from all the punishment he’d absorbed, he could feel the detrimental effects bearing down on form in rapid succession. However, he could also feel the Emperor invigorating him.

    Looking up, at once he understood why.

    One of the many splinters that sprung out from the mortally wounded Soliloquy was upon them, the new Lords of the Sith Order, which travailed to be born into this timeline.

    Darth Revan.

    This was a True Dark Lord of the Sith, even if he was just a phantasm.

    Manticore rose up slowly, letting the energy being sent to him fill him and restore some of his strength.

    To Darth Revan, he offered a silent and respectful nod. His own sith weapon was lit and on-hand. He absently made a mental note to place Vyatoris on his ’Hunt’ list. How strange that he would need one so soon- granted, the Miraluka was not the first one on it. Thanks to him, many more threats were now present within the combat theatre, threats that would not go ignored, unanswered or unchallenged.

    Still, after all that transpired, the battle was not over, not quite yet.

    They still needed to deal with the aftermath of what had been unleashed here on Kesh.

    Though his body was badly burned and broken, Manticore would not relent. Of course, he had no chance against Darth Revan and would have fallen on his face - or even died- if not for Insipid. But here, Hate stood with Pain and Hunger, as well as a Sith Emperor.

    The First Sith Order simply refused to be denied.



    Tag: @Sinrebirth, @darthbernael, @QueenSabe7, @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough
     
    Last edited: Feb 26, 2020
  11. darthbernael

    darthbernael EU Community Mod, Fuego, Pyrofuego! star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 15, 2019
    IC Bernael
    And the Battle gets truly interesting


    As he raced toward their foe, Hunger felt a new sensation, as though a series of connections were made. His mind raced, even as his body flew toward Sian. In a pair of moments he realized, the Emperor had touched his Council, had reinvigorated them, had connected them. This pleased Hunger, allowing Pain to feed Hunger and Hate, Hate to feed Pain and Hunger, and Hunger to feed Hate and Pain. And the Emperor allowing him access to reserves of strength meant no need to use up reserves he had himself. Then the very air seemed to reverberate with a thought….

    Their foe was no Sith. That was the key -

    In the last moments before Hunger’s or Manticore’s strikes went home he sensed that thought spread across the battlefield, the flavor plainly said it was from the Emperor. And it was just enough to make the interloper hesitate. He felt the scream ring out and knew it was just an animal response to the basic fact. But it was what disrupted the child’s sneak attack on Manticore and let the Mind Shard strike home.

    Hunger’s own attack decimated their foes legs, leaving shards of meat and bone dangling from the being’s thighs. A cold smile touched his face at the destruction, knowing there was still a way the foe could respond and attack in response but still the tide was turning. As the body flopped to the ground Hunger felt the attack, not necessarily the one he expected, burst forth. A thought was broadcast to him, to Manticore and Leda as well, he was sure.

    Kill.

    Kill each other.

    Now.


    As the thought blasted past his immediate line of defense, he could feel it trying to take hold. And then….and then something shifted inside him. First a presence he knew quite well rose up, ‘NO’ erupted forth from his thoughts, the balance, the presence of this timeline asserting itself, disrupting the thought. Then a second, seemingly a fragment of the balance, but darker, powerful beyond thought, and tied directly to his heritage blossomed, ‘No, but perhaps useful.’ it mused.

    Bernael’s eyes closed, the two presences seemed to commune, to decide how this Bernael, this Hunger, should go forth, how he should emerge from his chrysalis of emergence into this timeline and take his place on the galactic stage.

    ‘Mine, the balance needs tending, even if he is not my Bernael.’

    ‘Mine, since his birth he is a true ‘son’ of my creation. He must fulfill his purpose.’

    A pause, ‘I do have his other, yours and mine both too, but he can serve me and let this one be an experiment.’

    ‘A deal then, I give him his full heritage, direct as if from my loins themselves, undiluted by the eons, and the Dark, the Hunger, becomes his guide?’

    ‘A deal, let Hunger reign.’

    There was a silent clap of thunder in his mind as the deal was struck, even more power flooded him than he’d held before, as the will of his ‘father’, of Cold Danda Sine filled him, pushed his natural hunger to its extreme, extended his senses beyond the pale. All this in less than a moment in real time, as Sian’s attack went home. In that eye-blink, Hunger, now the true Lord of Hunger, opened his eyes, no longer silver, possibly for a long time to come, but black within black, darkness dripping from them and from his armor, and a wave of pure, unadulterated hunger radiated from his form.

    The Lord of Hate and the Lord of Pain must face the attack on their own, he decided. There was much to accomplish and he’d agreed, not sworn, but agreed to work for this Emperor so he would do his work. He felt every injury, every weakening of those around him. Some were worthy of being seen as more than prey but he felt the others who were nothing but prey, including his recent foe, and the millions of lives on this world.

    But feeding on so many would cost and there was readily available prey to consume even now. Hunger sheathed his sabers, reached behind his back, and pulled out the pair of semi sentient, voraciously hungry Kukri. As he turned from the legless wretch on the plaza paving stones he noticed that Manticore, that Hate, had turned from their foe as well, so be it. In a cold, dispassionate voice, “Pain, if you deem it even worth your time, the wreckage is yours to destroy or toy with, I must cleanse what needs cleansing, the weak.”

    Hunger strode across the plaza, taking in all the various shades, or were they shades, some more present than others, that had erupted when Soliloquy’s holocron ruptured. He saw a familiar face, one he’d seen in holocron form many times before he’d done as asked and left that ticking time bomb where it would be recovered. One kukri raised in salute, a salute of respect but also one that left no question that if their blades crossed the plaza would suffer, as he moved past the man. Besides it seems Hate had his sights set on this particular shade. Hunger nodded to Hate as he passed, acknowledgement of the latter’s claim to that prize.

    A Nightsister appeared and sought the high ground; Sith of old appeared; what could only be a Sorcerer of Rund; what appeared to be a Sith Inquisitor but one unknown to him, and various other forms, including what appeared to be a Star Dragon which was an interesting addition to the current reality, as he moved through the chaos.

    He stalked forward, black, seemingly soulless eyes turning to the shade that was most familiar, as he walked, “A message for you, the great game is far from complete, and your frenemy’s main piece has been promoted. Move and countermove.”

    Hunger passed the seemingly frozen in indecision Miraluku who had released the shades from the holocron that had hidden the Croke, as Insipid had called it, the Miraluku who had betrayed the order for the child writhing in pain behind him, even as his sister descended from orbit. “Choose traitor, those overweening children and eventual consumption when I or Hate find you or stay and attempt to heal the rift you have widened, accepting what will come by doing so. But choose swiftly, I have other prey to dispatch first, and you have others that would rend you to your component atoms.”

    He continued, approaching the tableau where Insipid was being tended to. One kukri rose pointing toward the one who he’d heard named Shimmer earlier, on the ground with the wound that Revan had left her, a honeyed sweet voice emerged from his mouth, “Injured one, you cannot survive that, too weak to continue, let me tend to you.”

    TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @QueenSabe7, @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough
     
    Last edited: Feb 26, 2020
  12. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: Aryan Graul
    Aboard the Dark Dreamer, Taris

    On some distant level, Aryan was aware of the heightened activity around him. There was a flurry of movement as someone brushed past him, followed by the subdued buzz of muffled voices. While he was capable of detecting the urgency behind the words, his efforts to distinguish between each conversation proved fruitless. From his perspective, it sounded more like a faint ringing in his ears, as if someone had submerged him underwater. It was impossible to make sense of it all.

    At this point, he was mindful enough of his condition to recognize that what he was experiencing was a direct result of his injury. The savage scene he had just witnessed had pushed him beyond his limits. He had foolishly allowed himself to become consumed by his emotions, which paved the way for his anxiety to return. It was sensory overload for his system, and his brain had responded accordingly to protect itself in its fragile state. This was a warning that he needed to slow down and reevaluate his options.

    And yet, Aryan couldn’t help himself. All he could think about was the senseless act Syren had committed. It certainly wasn’t the first time something like this has happened, but what separated this from the previous incident on Nirauan was her apparent lack of control. She had reacted purely on instinct, enabling her jealousy and other various insecurities to dictate her actions. It didn’t help that the powerful intoxicants coursing through her veins had only exacerbated the problem.

    Aryan might have aided her in seeking help, if not for the extensive injuries she had inflicted upon Valieri. Syren had intentionally hurt her...and for what? To punish him for moving on with his life, after she had very clearly broken off their relationship? He wasn’t even sure if he had moved on, but that was another matter entirely; it still didn’t justify her behavior. There were certain things that were inexcusable. This had crossed a line, and it left Aryan feeling raw and angry – it hurt on a more intimate level. She had betrayed him.

    That thought raced through his mind as the inspectors rushed forward to detain her. As he watched the scene unfold, his mental fog faded away, and he was finally able to discern the individual voices around him. One he recognized as Dr. Jepsun instructing him to retrieve Olag from his quarters, but it was the others that momentarily drew his attention. That’s when he heard the inspectors announce their decision to arrest Syren for her crimes. Surprisingly, this news did not affect him; he felt no remorse. She deserved it.

    As he turned away to carry out Jepsun’s orders, Aryan paused to focus his gaze on the fiery red-head. He inclined his chin and allowed his blue-gray eyes to narrow dangerously. As he scrutinized her under a hard stare, it would be easy to see the disdain reflecting in his expression – and perhaps even the hint of pity. He was making no effort to hide it. Syren would be able to perceive his turbulent emotions through the Force either way. Maybe it would give her pause to actually feel the pain she had caused him.

    Finally mustering the courage to tear his gaze away from her, he inhaled deeply and began to limp toward his quarters. Fortunately, it was only a few paces from their current position and readily accessible. It would be relatively easy to get Olag on the scene quickly – if the man hadn't already heard the commotion directly outside. But before he could reach the door panel, someone intercepted him by placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

    “Are you alright?” a voice called to him in a gentle tone. “I heard you were on the road to recovery and this is definitely not something that was supposed to happen.”

    Aryan visibly flinched at the infringement of his personal space and whirled on the poor man, a sharp expletive escaping from his lips as he moved. “Don’t…touch me,” he grumbled under his breath without so much as a thought. “I need...uh, I need to...Olag--”

    He trailed off into a fit of stammering, his lips pressing together into a thin line when he finally recognized who he was speaking to. He had not expected Captain Jerod directly, but now his expression sobered. The man’s presence provided a moment of clarity that helped Aryan to find his balance and ultimately, brought him back to his senses. “I’m...sorry.”

    The Captain shook his head. “I don’t know what you and she were arguing about but Valieri did not need to get involved. My hope is that she can recover. Perhaps you could go with her to the medbay, keep an eye on her. And maybe Syren can take a breather and think about what she’s done.”

    Exhaling heavily, Aryan lowered his gaze and raked his fingers through his beard with exasperation. “I intend to be there,” he murmured quietly, his voice still laced with tension and worry. “She needs my support right now, but...uh, it wasn’t her fault. Just--just so you know. There was no argument. Syren blatantly attacked her.”

    Issuing a small gasp, Aryan canted his head to regard the assassin one last time. “I would say that it was without provocation, but, uh...I know she saw us conversing together, and I think--godsdammit!

    While he appreciated Jerod’s sentiments on this complicated matter, he realized that the man was preventing him from getting Valieri the care she needed. And maybe part of him also didn’t want to confront the truth that was slowly beginning to ease into his awareness – the truth about what happened and why he had decided to tout Valieri in front of Syren in the first place. He wasn’t ready to face that reality yet. After witnessing the carnage she had wrought today, that thought angered him even more.

    Hardening his gaze, Aryan glared at Jerod and started to forcefully push past him. “I don’t have time for this,” he rumbled darkly. “Valieri needs me.”

    TAG: @Jerjerrod-Lennox; @QueenSabe7; @Darth_wanderguard; @Lady Belligerent; @Sinrebirth
     
    Last edited: Feb 27, 2020
  13. darthbernael

    darthbernael EU Community Mod, Fuego, Pyrofuego! star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 15, 2019
    IC Renn
    Chaos, Oh wait that’s Living Chaos

    Renn had gained some strength back as he stood, using the few precious moments he had to rebuild his shields, sure that Luke would attack again and again until he was worn down and defeated. As the lightning and push rebounded and scattered around him his feet were pushed back, pushing him toward the nearest wall. He turned his body and the direction of the shield, attempting to direct his movements toward the nearest hatch to the throne room, but that would still leave Serapis and Ser@pis in there with the Jedi, a losing proposition. He sighed, no escaping without those two so he had to think and try to survive so he could get them all out.

    And then…….

    And then music began pumping from every comm, every speaker, followed by a voice singing along.

    "I'm not the damsel in distress
    I'm not your girlfriend
    Or the frightened princess
    I'm not a little bird
    Who needs your help to fly
    Nope, I'm the bad guy
    All these badass sith that you see
    Each of them, with shaking knees
    Has knelt before me.”

    “Hi boys. Hope you’ve not been having too much fun without me.”


    At that Renn couldn’t help himself, shield still deflecting Luke’s attack he doubled over in laughter, its echoes booming around the still superb acoustics of the throne room, as he recognized the voice. Hearing his little friend’s voice again gave him strength, made energy flood his system especially as he began to also feel Grape and the missing Vizier. They were almost all together again.

    He straightened, even as touches of the lightning's energy singed his bark, bark he’d deliberately hardened and removed nerve endings from to buy extra seconds to fight back. Ignoring Luke for the moment, he took a chance the comms were open, “Gods Craziness, good to hear your voice again, got a bag of candy and a, well, bag of mush that used to be that Captain, for you. But I do seem to have a spot of bother, the droid is down, your Master is out cold, and I have this arrogant, ignorant Jedi annoying me and trying to capture us.” He winked at Ta’a as he spoke.

    Turning back to Luke, taking one step at a time, claws extending from his feet and scoring the throne room floor as he clawed his way forward step by step, “You should have listened to me, Luke. I’m the only truly reasonable one of my friends, even though you kept insulting me by refusing to acknowledge that I may not be what you expected and kept calling me a powerless freak at the same time. And now not only has this entire incident been broadcast everywhere that matters, showing you refusing to show any reason or compassion or sense of desire to find the truth, you now have my friends arriving, and if I’m not mistaken, that sounds like someone going after your ride outside. Last chance, listen to reason and let us go about our business or you’ll be causing a major incident between the New Republic and the Hapan Matriarchy as we leave, not willing to let you falsely imprison us.”

    TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @darthhelinith, @DarthIshyZ, @Snokers
     
    Last edited: Feb 29, 2020
  14. AgentViper007

    AgentViper007 Force Ghost star 7

    Registered:
    Mar 9, 2005
    IC: Captain Lennox Jerod
    Location: Dark Dreamer, Taris


    Aryan was essentially giving Jerod the cold shoulder.

    One minute he was apologizing as if he had made a mistake, the next he was getting frustrated the next minute he was trying to push past him. Of course with his condition he still couldn't express himself properly but he must have said something to Syren at least with poor Valieari in the middle.

    Xander would have loved it, too people acting like kids on the ship. He didn't care whether they had had an argument or not, something must have happened for Valieri to end up in her rather injured position. And Aryan must have said something because he was known for his biting remarks after someone else had finished. He was a politician and they always had a response for everything, Jerod knew that firsthand from a previous mission.

    Time to give Aryan some home truths.

    He grabbed Aryan’s arm as he rudely brushed past him. “Oh no, you are not going anywhere yet. You can go and see Valieri after I have a word with you. She is in the capable hands of the good doctor”

    He stepped forward his green eyes and face expressing sympathy at first “Look I understand you are still recovering after what happened at Bedlam. None of us can ever imagine what you went through and I am happy you are recovering and your speech and your personality are returning back to normal”

    But then his face turned angry his Captain mode switching fully one “But do not think for one second you are entirely blameless for this. Syren may have started it but it seems you might have finished it. A woman has been injured whilst we have inspectors on the ship and you and Syren have jeopardized us all with your petty argument or whatever it is you were doing. You may have gotten us all in trouble and possibly losing our ship. I already have my son using this ship as his personal playground and I don’t need more people acting like kids around here. He’s six, you two act more your age. Syren will be dealt with I am sure of that. You however acted irrationally and like all politicians had to get the last word in. The best thing you should have done was walk away. I’m sorry you and Syren are having personal problems but the next time you feel like airing your dirty laundry in public, don’t. Do it in private”

    He growled the next bit “And you had better hope that Olag wishes to help after your little vulgar display.” He released Aryan's arm “If this happens again, if I catch either of you drunk, stoned or whatever I will have you both kicked off this ship or confined to your cabins contemplating the phrase “silent as the grave” and pondering your fate. Maybe if i’m feeling in the mood i’ll drop you off at an inhabited planet instead of an uninhabited one.” he nodded towards Valieri “I’ve made my point clear. The next time you need my help, make sure you are in the right frame of mind to do so.”

    TAG: @HanSolo29 , @QueenSabe7 , @Darth_wanderguard , @Lady Belligerent , @Sinrebirth
     
    Last edited: Feb 29, 2020
  15. Silvertough

    Silvertough Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Aug 19, 2018
    IC: Azeth Drost
    Kesh - Defeat

    Vyatoris' uncharacteristically wide grin faltered immediately. His blade's trajectory had changed, either by his own hand, or someone else's. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he watched helplessly as his blade slowly carved its way into Soliloquy's holocron core. In an instant, the holocron shattered, and from within emerged a new era of difficulties.

    The Miraluka hit the ground in an awkward tuck and roll, rising quickly to his feet, lightsaber held at the ready diagonally across his chest. Directly ahead, stood an impossibility. A being that had supposedly been dead for at least a thousand years.

    Revan.

    The being turned, ignoring the shaken Miraluka to instead focus on the three Sith currently fighting Sian, or, were, at least. If Revan wasn't enough, Vyatoris was more than dismayed to watch Sian pathetically limp away from his opponents, having suffered numerous grievous wounds.

    Vyatoris had chosen.. poorly in confederates. Unadulterated fury rippled through his form, a potent mixture of piercing shame and disappointment which silenced any and all dissenting thoughts within. He had been used, once again. For nothing.

    The appearance of a maddeningly familiar black robed figure did nothing to temper the fires of Vyatoris' hatred. There were other beings that came from Soliloquy, some abstract portion of his mind made note of, but none would tear his focus away from the robed figure in front of him.

    H-how DARE you stand before me!? The single thought echoed within the walls of his mind, each reverberation seeming to match the thunderous drum beats that was his heart.


    Sian, as he was levitated to the ramp of the hovering ship, reached out a limp hand -

    "Come, Miraluka, or stay with what you have wrought."

    Merel peered out of the cockpit at the disaster below, a sneer to her face.

    Vyatoris slowly turned, facing the retreating Sian with a look of utter contempt. Sian was everything Vyatoris had promised himself he would not become, and yet.. Here he was. With a growl, he shook his head, and turned his back to him. Offering the worst insult a power-hungry fool could receive- to be ignored.

    Vyatoris could feel the presence of Bernael approaching, but he paid him no mind. If Vyatoris was to be killed by him, so be it, he did deserve it. He would be lying to himself if there wasn't a tiny part of him that wanted Bernael to just strike him down.. But no, all that mattered was the black-robed figure ahead.

    “Choose traitor, those overweening children and eventual consumption when I or Hate find you or stay and attempt to heal the rift you have widened, accepting what will come by doing so. But choose swiftly, I have other prey to dispatch first, and you have others that would rend you to your component atoms.”

    "I have." He said, his voice nothing more than a pained snarl. The black robed figure had remained stationary. If it was real, then it would feel his blade. If the figure was just a memory, an illusion.. Then at least the experience would be of some catharsis.


    Those would be the rationalizations of what he would do next, after the fact. In the moment, there was little deliberation. In front stood the man who had caused him his pain, the one who had forcible tore him from his own timeline and destroyed any chance of a future.

    In front stood the man - that would die at Vyatoris' hands. The fires of his hatred would burn through any resistance.

    ..And then, peace..

    Tags: @Sinrebirth , @Mitth_Fisto , @darthbernael

     
  16. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Darth Insipid
    Kesh, wtf (redux)

    The cacophony of spirits, memories, and monsters, emerging from Soliloquy was outstanding.

    The dragon; the Nightsister; the Sith; the Sorceror; the... Jawa? The ground shook, and a juvenile sarlacc reared up, and Insipid vaguely saw it thrash at the fleeing shuttle, not seconds before a female gesture in the Force snapped it's head clear off - Merel exerting herself, irritation - Insipid suddenly remembered the battle with the mysterious woman in the Hapes Cluster, just before the Bedlam disaster - the woman who had ragdolled him and Kronos.

    He felt energy flow into him, and Insipid turned to the Croke, to Soliloquy - he had thrown Force energy at him.

    A snarl ripped across the confrontation.

    “Choose traitor, those overweening children and eventual consumption when I or Hate find you or stay and attempt to heal the rift you have widened, accepting what will come by doing so. But choose swiftly, I have other prey to dispatch first, and you have others that would rend you to your component atoms.”

    "I have."

    Bernael and Vytorias.

    He looked for the others, for Shimmer, who had been tending him. She was not here, she was trying to gesture with the Force to ward off Bernael -

    "Injured one, you cannot survive that, too weak to continue, let me tend to you.”

    Shimmer wasn't strong enough to do that. Bernael was old, old, Old. Insipid could sense something darker and more terrible awakening in the Anzati. Shimmer's Force gesture was strong, but it was a distraction before her fear erupted into lancing electricity -

    Insipid winced, it was nothing special.

    The young Star Dragon reared over them, clearly smelling his blood, and Insipid lifted his weakened hands, releasing a veritable storm of energy which peeled the flesh from the dragon. He turned his hands, now blistering, to point at Merel and Sian's fleeing ship, and his arms flopped to the side. Insipid snarled, and focused.

    Darth Revan made his move.

    Twinned lightsabers lashed out, low and high, both incredible quick feints that nonetheless could have cut his arm and leg, and then he whipped the blades across themselves to remove his head. Revan was a phantasm, but he was still an incredibly violent opponent. He was solid; he could cut through them.

    Through Manticore.

    The triad of original Sith lifted their hands, and threw Leda to the floor, hit with a Force wave, paralysis attack, and bolt of lightning in one motion.

    The Sorcerer of Tund drew back, watching the others with a narrow and shrewd expression.

    The Jawa began to skirt around the battle to the wreckage.

    The Nightsister drew her bow and targeted at each of them, shifting from one to another, perplexed, unclear.

    The Inquisitor ignited his blade, eyes focused on Soliloquy, stepping forward; the Nightsister noticed, and shot him through the throat - the spirit vanished - but then she shifted to target the Croke. "You."

    The cloaked man turned from that confrontation, back to the Miraluka, and to Insipid, almost smiling into the Force.

    He shrugged.

    "I'm the Lost Master of the Sages; don't you get it? I had to make some slight adjustments to keep things from continuing."

    "You were supposed to die the very next day. Some minor brawl between some minor Sith. Nobody cared. You impacted nothing. So yeah; I intervened." He pointed at Vyatoris. "You needed to kill them, to stop anymore changes. It's very hard to make a fixed plan when you guys mess it up."

    The man was solid, he clapped loudly.

    "Congratulations!" That grin rolled into the Force and prodded at Vyatoris. "You failed at that, too!"

    He snapped a gloved finger at Bernael, as Shimmer tried to ward him off.

    "Come on, don't let me down?"

    He turned his back on Vyatoris, and Insipid used the Force, still invigorated by Soliloquy, to lift his hand and with all of his strength choke the so-called Master.

    The cloaked man fluttered a hand and Insipid's strike was undone.

    TAG: @darthbernael, @Silvertough, @Mitth_Fisto, @greyjedi125, @QueenSabe7
    ---
    IC: Luke Skywalker

    Confused, Skirmish at the edge of the Hapes Cluster

    “You should have listened to me, Luke. I’m the only truly reasonable one of my friends, even though you kept insulting me by refusing to acknowledge that I may not be what you expected and kept calling me a powerless freak at the same time. And now not only has this entire incident been broadcast everywhere that matters, showing you refusing to show any reason or compassion or sense of desire to find the truth, you now have my friends arriving, and if I’m not mistaken, that sounds like someone going after your ride outside. Last chance, listen to reason and let us go about our business or you’ll be causing a major incident between the New Republic and the Hapan Matriarchy as we leave, not willing to let you falsely imprison us.”

    Luke glared at the Neti.

    "I will stand between the dark side and it's victims until my final breath, Sith."

    He spoke that word with certainty.

    Even if the way that there were nearly a dozen Sith in his world after the last two Sith in what he had understood was the Rule of Two was that.

    "Your business is my business."

    The explosions ripped part of the ceiling down, which slammed down between them.

    The Jedi Master recoiled away from the violence, grabbing at one of them - Serapis - at the Force. The debris had split the unconscious man from the Neti, and Luke intended to take him with them.

    But the palace had lost integrity, and it was beginning to tug at Renn, and expose him to the void itself.

    Luke drew atmosphere around himself, creating a pocket of pressure for himself and Serapis to survive in; unless he fought back of course.

    The wreckage of Ser@pis was dutifully dragged slowly but surely from the deck.

    Helinith did not have much time.

    Bo had even less.

    TAG: @darthbernael, @DarthIshyZ, @darthhelinith, @Snokers
    ---
    IC: Styx

    Moraband, in orbit

    “Goooood.”
    Cocytus had laughed. “Excellent. How cute. An Apprentice’s first attempt to overthrow the Master. Yes. Very much of the Rule of Two. But alas, not so fast… You still have much to learn and have yet to truly experience the power of the Dark Side. As such…”

    As if in demonstration Darth Cocytus raised his hands and unleashed storm of Sith Lightning from his tridactyle fingers upon Darth Styx. “Whatever your mother has taught you of the Force…” he said with cold chuckles as he tortured her, “It is nothing compared to the true teachings of the Sith… The power I’m unleashing upon you? It can be yours as well… As long as the Apprentice obeys the Master. Do you understand?"

    Styx writhed, and rolled across the floor. Her clothes and skin smoked, and she glared at her master.

    "I understand," she spat.

    The venom in her voice was complete malice.

    A resonance of approval from the Sidious AI, as the ship headed to the surface.

    Take her to the tomb.

    The one which has not been filled.

    The Tomb of Darth Vader.

    The one I built over it.

    Over what you seek.

    A part of the Contingency.


    TAG: @Darth Cocytus
    ---
    IC: The Master

    2,000 years ago, Ziost

    It was a Conclave.

    The first Sith one in centuries.

    The Sith Empire had been in complete disarray for a millennium and a half. Technically, Darth Desolous had been the last Dark Lord of the Sith to actively wage war against the Jedi and their pet Republic.

    The various tribes of the Sith were gathered here today; the Mecrosa, the Cult of Phobos, the Krath, others and more besides.

    They had been gathered by him.

    Darth Ruin.

    He stood with some fifty former Jedi, all who he had personally corrupted to leave the order in what some were already calling the Fourth Great Schism. The first in two millennia-odd. There were many Lesser Schisms, the most infamous one of which resulted in the Garn Conflict some eight millennia before...

    The Old Ones had taken a hand in that, after all. They had come pretty close to making it a major Schism, though arguably the Jedi had exiled those Force users; they had not simply left en masse. But it was that connection to the Old Ones that the Master today sought.

    There was someone here, and he needed to speak to him.

    Ah yes, there was the Anzati.

    Taking a deep breath, the Master reminded himself that he wasn't doing much wrong. The Other - the Presence - he would need an agent, and the Master speaking to Bernael would decide it for the Presence; he'd pick the Anzati. He was perfect. Capable of living for millennia, and quite unlikely to form those messy connections that would reduce his usefulness. Similarly, very difficult to kill.

    And the Master only needed to pass Bernael and make the mental suggestion.

    It would rear it's head when it needed to.

    There he was. The Master didn't stand out in a crowd of Sith hiding their faces; some were living undercover deep in the Republic, keeping their religion a secret. After all, the Sith way had been outlawed for nearly two millennia now... and thus created a perpetuating cycle of conflict between the Jedi and Sith forever since... even if the Sith Empire had been split into various component parts since Darth Desolous was defeated at the Battle of Yaga Minor.

    He brushed through the cloaks and did so with his target, keeping his mind absent, focused on whatever drivel was coming out of the mouth of Ruin. He was a solipsistic madman; he believed he was the beginning and end of reality - that he was the One... the Chosen One. Thanks to the Father's intervention, there. Not the first time he's misjudged the situation, the Master snorted.

    Ah yes.

    The Anzati knew he was being hunted.

    He had a keen sense of everything, after all.

    Reminded him of Joren.

    The Master kept the sarcastic edge off his thoughts.

    They crossed paths, and the Master carried on through the crowd.

    He left his message, buried it deep inside the psyche of the Anzati, to be uncovered when his balance was shot, and lost, even if he didn't realise it.

    When he was angry, perhaps sad, perhaps frustrated, perhaps hurt.

    You need to get control of yourself now. He need's stopping.

    The message was multi-layered.

    One day Bernael's darker, Older, tendencies, would interfere.

    One day Bernael would start to acquire attachments.

    One day Bernael would be lost.

    One day Bernael would be found.

    One day.

    The Master eyed his list.

    Who was next to be collected.

    TAG: @darthbernael
     
  17. QueenSabe7

    QueenSabe7 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 23, 2001
    IC: Syren
    Dark Dreamer

    Syren did not attempt to hide the pleasure swelling in her chest as she watched Aryan stammer through his shock and anger. She was breathing heavy as she examined him, grinning in a way that wasn’t entirely separate from a sort of feral snarl as her victim lay crumpled in a twisted heap beside her. His consort’s pain was as potent as the very real drug that was pumping manically through her veins, making for quite the cocktail that was rather enjoyable… all things considered. Each agonizing pulse from the broken body began to manifest in an actual flavor she could taste on her tongue – sticky sweet and spicy, like a piece of sugarcandy dusted in pepper flakes. Delicious.

    “It’s so… charming,” she cooed as he knelt by the woman, trying to offer aid. “How you act as though you really care for her.” She chuckled darkly, shaking her head down at him in disapproval. “She’s nothing to you but a placeholder.”

    A fleeting thought captured her attention then, casting aside her thirst for violence to hone in on Aryan’s emotions.

    How interesting.

    He was still processing his surprise to her act and the outrage it had provoked - as was to be expected. But, peeling back layer after layer of similarly leveled feelings, there was the never mistaken allure of desire buried beneath it all.

    Syren inhaled deeply as she found it, read it, and pulled on it, connecting it with the same deviant place deep within herself. He was standing again and speaking to her now, but she didn’t register most of what he was saying. Instead she was reeling in the fact that no matter how hard he might fight it, no matter how fast he might try and run from it, there was no hiding from the fact that they shared a darkness that was entirely unique to only them. Of course, she had done the same in wanting to refuse such ties to another being and in doing so, had managed to lock away how it simply felt to reopen the empty pathways that had once connected Aryan to her and she to him.

    Their bond.

    “… you out of my godsdamn head…

    If she had been momentarily paralyzed before, her limbs unlocked suddenly when he stopped talking and Syren nearly crumpled to the floor. She caught herself, but remained hunched over with her hands firmly grasping knees for support. The floor just needed to stop spinning… so she could straighten without tipping over.

    “Yea… well… the feeling is mutual,” she muttered in reply, unsure if he’d hear her clearly enough or if her words would just sound jumbled. She preferred the latter.

    “Of all days…”

    Syren whined – what now - turning her head enough to see Plo spun so tight with rage that he was practically glowing red.

    Oh yea…

    “Of all days for this idiotic secondary school nonsense between the two of you to come to a head, you picked today. WHERE is Vex Nolzit? WHERE IS HE?”

    “Kriff if I know…. I’m not a babysitter.” Syren spat her words as she managed to return to full height, absently aware the doctor had joined them and was administering whatever meds he could to assist with the woman that was no longer moving. Maybe she’d die in short order and they could just be done with it all. Even through her muddled senses she could tell others were closing in, most likely the blasted inspection crew that started this whole mess, so that hope was quickly dashed.

    Exasperated, she rubbed at her eyes and shifted her body to face the man that was now yelling at Plo, several soldiers lined up behind him. She watched him lazily, brow raised as he tried to insult her by stating the obvious.

    Syren snickered, one hand falling to her side, fingers itching to grab the vibroblade holstered to the thigh they grazed.

    In a move of pure stupidity, she watched the officer reach his limit and nail Plo in the stomach with his baton and turn to her, doing the same before calling out for her arrest. The drugs delayed any response she may have thought to have so she didn’t have one at all, the air whooshing out of her lungs as her abdomen was abruptly shoved inward with a sickening thud. An involuntary grunt rushed from her throat as she fell to one knee, a tear or two streaming from her eyes as she clamped them shut, her face contorted into a grimace.

    Choking back the sour bile that took over the sweet taste she had been savoring, she pried open her eyes and found herself meeting Plo’s. He seethed into her with his narrowed stare, his threat clear. He was pleading with her not to react, he was ordering her to comply, which Syren found herself doing anyways – shoulders slumping, tension leaving her body, the spice beginning to take a turn from the extreme into the warm bliss of intoxicated unconsciousness. Perhaps the immediate spike in her emotions when she had torn into Valieri had driven the drug to break early…. Perhaps.

    She felt him again as she relaxed further and her mind opened itself, felt him as if he had physically grabbed her in his arms and violently shaken her.

    Recoiling against the jabbing pain emanating from her gut, Syren threw her head back and looked for him. This time he had already been looking at her, their gazes locking instantly. He had been the only person in her life that could see right through her, into the darkest crevices of her soul, to get the closest to knowing who she really was. And she had felt she could see the same in him, which was exactly why the assassin cringed away the moment she registered the look on his face, nothing like what she had felt in him only minutes before.

    There was no passion, instead in its place there was pity and disgust. He was revolted by her, or what she had done. Or both. He was angry, and he loathed her for it.

    And then Aryan turned away from her, not unlike how she had turned away from him before. In a time of need, leaving and discarding the other without another thought.

    The world around her slowed. She could feel hands beginning to grab at her arms, her wrists, she felt herself being brought back up to her feet. And each step her former lover took was slow and measured, emphasizing the widening space that stretched between them. His towering form grew smaller as it moved further down the corridor, all she could see was the back of his head. He did not look back for her, not once.

    There was a spark, and then the flames of rage began to lick away at her weakening composure.

    The clanking of metal was heard somewhere in the back of her mind and she knew it was the cuffs. Syren was upright now, held in place with her hands forced behind her by several of the guards that had accompanied the loud man with the baton.

    The baton.

    “You should have listened,” she whispered directly at him, her eyes deadly focused. “I am quite dangerous.”

    Taking advantage of surprise yet again, she snatched one hand free and reached for the metal stick in the Force with an open palm. As soon as it was removed from its owner and landed in her grasp, she shoved forward with energies that went beyond her own, bolstered by her indignation towards Aryan. She swung out once with whatever strength she could muster, a crushing backhand aimed directly at the face of the leader.

    TAGS: @HanSolo29 @Darth_wanderguard
     
  18. Quinlan Vos

    Quinlan Vos Jedi Knight star 2

    Registered:
    Oct 24, 2017
    A Wonderful Little Combo With The Lovely Lady Bellorum!

    IC: Vex Nolzit and Lady Bellorum



    Vex sighed as the man questioned him.

    “Of course you recognize me, Captain Linkri. I’m here on the orders of Lord Xiaozhan. These people gave me passage on their ship to allow me to bring back his slaves. Now if you would just gather them for me, I’m sure we could be on our way.”

    Peeking out the still open door, he saw Syren and Plo there, with the former being put into cuffs. So that’s what all the commotion was about, he thought.

    “If you would look out there, you would see that the one currently about to be led away in chains is one of our slaves, and the other is somewhere else aboard the ship. The other man out there, the one in charge of the ship, only allowed me to come here under the knowledge that these two are not slaves, which is why they are roaming freely. If you would help me gather the two, as well as the ships ownership trio, we can head straight for the palace and hand them over.”

    He stood straight up, giving the captain a cold stare, and challenged him to stop him.

    “You wouldn’t want to upset our Lord now, would you… captain?” he spat out...

    Bellorum watched from the shadows, thinking how this kind of hold up was a waste of valuable time. She eased closer to listen in to a conversation that piqued her interest.

    Once she decided to move, she stepped in and waved her fingers in Captain Linkri’s direction and spoke to him. “You don’t care about this man,” her eyes shifted slightly and then back to Linkri, “you want to stick to him,” she pointed out Haretisch while pouring her will into the Force.

    Linkri turned and walked towards Haretisch as he muttered about sticking with with “him

    She walked beside Vex and spoke softly as to not draw attention from anyone near the room. “You’re to walk beside me, and don’t speak,” she reached out and was waiting until the passages felt empty. “Let’s go, we’re going to my quarters for a chat.”

    The Dark Lady pulled her hood farther down and stalked back to her quarters where she motioned Vex inside.


    Tags: @Lady Belligerent and @Darth_wanderguard
    Mentioned Only: @QueenSabe7
     
  19. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Sian
    Wtf from another perspective; rising above it

    While his twin sister Merel dealt with the sarlacc creature reaching for their shuttle, he cast his pained senses out.

    Vyatoris had not joined them, the cloaked figure apparently being more of an enticement than even certain death at the hands of the other Sith.

    The cloaked man was corporeal, but also a memory, so one had to wonder what the Miraluka would do to him.

    A blaze of lightning took Leda, and Sian looked out at the others.

    Bernael was mid-consumption of Shimmer, caught between Soliloquy and a Nightsister apparition/creation; a Snoke specialty.

    Manticore was being cut at by Revan.

    Insipid
    was improving, but slowly, and overexerting himself more often than not.

    Sian reached out, pushing aside his pain, and grabbed at Leda...

    And levitated her to their ship as it headed into the sky.

    TAG: @QueenSabe7 (updated TAG), mentions of @Mitth_Fisto, @darthbernael, @Silvertough, @greyjedi125
     
  20. greyjedi125

    greyjedi125 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Apr 29, 2002
    IC: Manticore
    Kesh, Revan’s Dark Simulacrum



    Chaos, Death and Destruction reigned upon the combat theatre. It had become a charnel house, a killing field, where young sarlaccs were slaughtered and young Star Dragons had their flesh flayed from their bones.

    Powerful monstrosities, both known and unknown had emerged from Soliloquy’s mortal wound- all filled with terrible Power and Darkness.

    Through their connection, Manticore felt Bernael’s dark empowerment, which in turn, galvanized the beleaguered zabrak- and not a moment too soon.

    He could do nothing to assist Leda or anyone else for that matter.

    All his skill and power were focused on a single act: Survival.

    He could feel it in the darkside of the Force; even though this was a phantasm, a dark simulacrum of Darth Revan, it still possessed and wielded overwhelming power befitting the Dark Lord himself.

    Twin lightsabers had lashed out, low and high.

    Manticore’s already charred and ruined body twisted at impossible angles in mid-air, as he performed evasive acrobatic feats to avoid Revan’s first pass- and live.

    Two slashes appeared on opposing limbs. One along Manticore’s right forearm and the other along his left calf. He was fortunate they were still attached to him still. Revan was not only blindingly fast, he was also cunning, employing the force to extend his weapon’s reach.

    The only reason he managed to keep his head was due to the sudden rush of power he received from Bernael. It granted him the extra boost he needed to avoid certain death.

    Manticore went low and rolled before setting himself into a series of accelerating handsprings. He didn’t have to defeat this opponent- he just had to survive long enough. That, and keep him from engaging the Emperor.

    Through the darkside, he drank deep of Pain, even as she was assaulted by a Trio of Sith. Through the darkside, he gulped down dark Hunger, which fervently sought the end of weakness. Through the darkside, he drowned in oceans filled with the blistering fires of Hate. His indomitable Will soared above all Anguish.

    Darth Revan was upon him once again, having covered the distance between them in a blink of an eye, but Manticore was in the flow of their encounter. He did not parry Revan’s attack as much as guide it off course. The Dark Lord’s leading blade only sliced open his left pectoral as it continued on its arc. The zabrak’s left knee came up suddenly, to ‘jam’ his opponent’s closely trailing follow-up attack.

    The technique was executed flawlessly, robbing Revan’s intended attack of most of its power as it came up short. Yet still, Manticore felt his Tibia bone fracture on contact, even as the impact sent him tumbling trough the air. The stabbing pain kept him conscious, as he turned and twisted, righting himself mid-flight. The zabrak telekinetically extended his ‘flight’, causing Revan to miss a leaping attack by a hair. Manticore rebounded off a broken wall with his good leg and flipped down into a crouch, immediately spinning on one leg, just in time to parry another speedy follow-up attack from the Dark Lord.

    Blinding sparks flared, lighting the encounter and the two fearsome combatants.

    Manticore kept his balance as he slid several meters along the debris-filled floor, still in a crouched position and favoring his good leg. Sawtooth twirled in his blackened hands, carving menacing red trails in the air. The zabrak could feel the power boost he had been granted beginning to wane. Be that as it may, his HATE remained undiminished.

    If he was running out of power, then the same was likely true for the apparition, as no conscious mind was sustaining it. He simply had to outlast it- or cause it to burn itself out.

    “Is that all you’ve got…?” he queried in an almost unrecognizable gravelly voice, then spat on the floor -a sneer slowly blossoming on his lipless and blackened face.

    The zabrak couldn’t decide whether or not he should haunt Sian or Soliloquy in the event of his untimely death. His only consolation was that Hunger would verily consume the treacherous Vyatoris in his absence.



    Tag: @Sinrebirth ( Mentioned: @darthbernael, @QueenSabe7, @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough )
     
    Last edited: Mar 4, 2020
  21. darthbernael

    darthbernael EU Community Mod, Fuego, Pyrofuego! star 5 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 15, 2019
    OOC: A thoroughly enjoyable combo with @Mitth_Fisto and @Sinrebirth

    IC Bernael/Hunger, Soliloquy, Shimmer
    Hmmmm, Life/Death has some Interesting Items to Show


    Hunger advanced on the cowering Shimmer, her lightning lancing toward him then causing only minor charring as he continued to pace forward. And then he paused, as she continued to try to attack him. His kukri, almost of their own accord, stayed points toward Shimmer as his head cocked to one side for a moment.

    A memory, both old and new ran through his mind. He’d seen it before, over the years and always wondered if this was the time the memory meant. His mind ran back to the first time he’d felt this memory, 66 BBY. It felt odd that he hadn’t remembered it before then, or remembered the incident itself but that was his ‘boss’ and the Master in their little game.

    He’d been trying to resolve an issue that involved an agent of his, one who likewise worked for the balance, when this memory popped up. For some reason though that time, in his mind, was shrouded past when that memory surfaced so he didn’t know if he’d already faced what it demanded. But he felt that it hadn’t.

    But that occurrence wasn’t the last, only the first. There was an odd feeling about a time in 33 ABY but it wasn’t his timeline or this one, there was 41 ABY, and there was 138 ABY before today. Each time, especially the odd timeline one, was clouded after the memory occurred so, again, there was no way to know if things were resolved. But, again, it still felt unresolved.

    He resurfaced from the memory, a half smile on his face at the lightning still coursing toward him. There was no need to block it so he just let it stream toward him as he turned his head, looking at the shrouded figure that Vyatoris was attempting to choke. “That far back, seriously? You two have been using me for your game that long? Did you not notice the game has changed?” A harsh bark of laughter followed as he turned back toward Shimmer.

    “As for you, how long is it going to take for you to realize you cannot stop me?” He asked as he closed to within blade striking distance.

    It was an odd thing, it was a simple thing, and it was beautiful! To subsume reality, to deny it in a way that even a deific being such as those that made his race could not tell that the reality they faced, the reality they interacted with was not real, that was a gift! And a curse. Not to mention stubborn viewpoints, albeit different from most species. So stubborn they had orchestrated their own damnation. That was the legacy of the Croke. That was the legacy that they let be known, quietly - softly they had echoed it. Let the messages and signs leak into the galaxy. So any that cared, any that looked, would know the truth and weep for the simplicity of it all.

    Yet to see these memories, to see these echoes, to hear the bits of soul of those dead for hundreds or thousands of years to live again in this moment? To live so indistinguishably from the rest of reality? If a foreign reality was a poison to even a comparable one, the Miraluka had just poisoned the well. For he had spilt not a clean pebble to be eroded and subsumed into the flood tides, but a cask to spill forth and contaminate it all. Or perhaps merely this world now, Kesh, was baptized in them. As Endor was baptized and warped by their Firsts, so Kesh now was to be forever warped by them, their lasts.

    The phantasm of the Inquisitor was cut down by the Nightsister who then shifted to focus on the supine form of Soliloquy who was cradling his wounded abdomen. It hurt, ravishingly so. Only the wound wasn't real, he wasn't, and with a split thought of that reality added to the others his form dissolved, shifted. Then she was kneeling there. Kneeling as she had eons past to that woman sitting atop the Holocron, only now she was full sized, real, and cradling the broken holocron in her lap as she was sitting there on the ground. A drop of calm in the chaos.

    [​IMG]

    The skull connected to his form, her form that seemed to reflect the damage in a mild fashion their home had suffered. "Yes? Cousin?" She called to the one with arrows above, but she did not neglect the world around her. The voice of Sages, the plans influenced. Those words held so much influence, so many possibilities. "Do you need a body?" She asked with a negligent wave that pulled on Shimmer, a pull to draw her in front - between her and Insipid...and the Nightsister.

    Drawing her away from the one that was Hunger, "You might have to choose who you submit to Shimmer. You are proving far too weak for me to keep rescuing, and no were near amusing enough." she whispered. "Food or spirit?"

    Hunger cocked his head, his meal, his prey, had been drawn away from him. The one who had done so was the one who had released all the spirits, the apparitions, when the holocron had been shattered. The darkness swelled in him demanding he widen the swath of his hunger as he stalked the planet but the rational side of him studied the other who had done so, saw a kindred spirit of a sort and decided to approach the situation rationally.


    Hunger turned, moving toward the small scene of the whatever it was cradling the shards of the Holocron, his prey, and the shade that may inhabit his prey. He nodded respectfully to the whatever it was, then in his low, gravelly voice “The Emperor called you a Croke, a species I know of old, and I know a small part of your history. You are, in a way, such as I, save you do not consume fully the beings you take in.”

    He looked toward Shimmer, knowing she knew not what he or Soliloquy would do with her but possibly knew that her fate was up to what he and the being who had hidden themself in the Holocron and what they decided. Otherwise he ignored her as he turned back to Soliloquy, ”Will what you create when you give that body to the one you offer it too truly be as powerful and as useful to the Order as it could be? Is it worth releasing that Nightsister into the world and taking the chance she will not support us in our endeavors? Or is the rational choice to allow me to add the meager power that soul has to my reservoir of souls and cleanse the Order, even slightly?”

    He stood calmly, keeping track of his prey, should she bolt, but waiting patiently for the Sith to respond. He suddenly realized such monikers as Sith, Jedi, darksider, lightsider, and such were now meaningless with what his father had done. But that was something to explore later, for now, he had this mission to complete.

    Tilting her head she never visibly turned to look at the Anzati, she merely listened. With the Force that was the truest way to do anything. "To the Order? No. To what is to come? Perhaps. In this reality the Nightsisters like the Sorcerer's of Tund have been all but exterminated from the galaxy. I give her a chance to rebirth it, and in turn be indebted to us. In a hundred years, two hundred years, we may need their help. If I do correctly Shimmer may be rebirthed as well, a normal daughter into that line."

    Here she raised a hand with a single finger pointing up, "As for the Order, talk to me of it when it lasts longer than one of my stints in solitary. So far this one has not come even close. If you find my thinking flawed feed on both, on all of these that are remembrances and echoes and souls that have been shattered out of my shell violently, and without provocation. These, the things I never ate nor tasted."

    Then the finger lowered. "If it has merit, elder brother, let it be." she softly whispered the last. Her hand coming down to caress the skull as she waited for responses. Responses from so many before she would deign to do anything but watch the chaos unfold.

    A low, dark chuckle sounded from behind the mask Hunger wore. He nodded, and then his voice sounded once more, harsh, deeper, darker than it ever had before, “Younger sister, your case has merit, let the Nightsister be reborn.” He began to turn, then turned back, “You are correct though, the Sith have never managed to survive longer than a pair of millennia. I sense you are the same as I, neither Sith nor Jedi, but only what we truly are. Should this Order prove to be what it could be, then we assist it. I am sure you too can feel the many threads each of these,” he gestured around the chaos of the plaza, “is attempting to pull, the Emperor and the others included.”

    His night black eyes surveyed the plaza, Leda disappearing with the twins, Manticore in his fight with the shade of Revan, Insipid recovering, Shimmer caught between he and Soliloquy. “Some here have shown they are able to create what may survive, but time will tell. So Hunger I will be and observe the merit, the strength and weakness of the Order as a whole, fulfilling that role as need be.”

    Turning away finally, he strode toward the sound of battle, kukri still to hand, to assist Hate in his fight with Revan.

    While Shimmer sagged to the floor, exhausted but relieved, Insipid, not entirely distracted by the final confrontation between the Master and Vyatoris, narrowed his pained eyes and simply nodded along. Neither Jedi nor Sith... perhaps Destructor? Or Protector?

    He said nothing, and turned aside.

    TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @Silvertough, @Mitth_Fisto, @greyjedi125, @QueenSabe7
     
  22. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    IC: Plo Wanderguard, Bellorum, & Cal - Taris Spaceport

    Mistakes had been made.

    Initially, the inspector third-nearest to Syren had made the mistake of assuming his two comrades restraining the assassin would be capable of keeping her in hand. Further, he’d made an additional mistake in turning his back. What happened next could be debated as to whether ‘mistake’ was an adequate description, or if ‘flagrant negligence’ would have been more fitting.

    In any case, he had somehow failed to apply a single modicum of perhaps the most important aspect of his police training - that being the need to keep one’s weapon secure. There was no reflex, no instinctive reaction as one might expect from a trained man, when the billy club hanging at his side was wrenched free. He didn’t reach for it. He didn’t jump out of range. He simply turned, and issued half of an exclamation which was quickly interrupted as the blow fell.

    “Wha...?” was all he managed before the club Syren was swinging slammed into his face with a crunch.

    He fell to the floor with force as though he had thrown himself, but landed like there was no life left in him. There was no scream - he was unconscious the instant the baton hit his face. He lay face down in a rapidly growing pool of blood for a few moments, which felt a lot longer than they actually were, and there was a pregnant pause in the room as everyone processed what had just happened. Plo sighed.

    “GET HER!” the lead inspector whose name was Gad practically screamed, and they were on her rapidly. Baton blows the same as she had just been on the friendlier side of, though not as hard since these men were amateurs at best, struck what would seem every inch of her from every direction until she was on the ground. Face, head, ribs, elbows, knees, nothing would be spared and no mercy given.

    It happened quickly, and yet Plo watched with enough time to consider intervening and decided against it. Yes, he was angry, but he had no desire to see Syren brutalized. Much the opposite, but he thought it would maybe serve as a much-needed knocking down a peg. If she even felt it through the adrenaline and the spice and her own natural toughness. Whatever pain was left to feel she might even greet as a friend for all her self-loathing. If they were anything alike, that was, and he knew they were.

    When she was finally subdued, and cuffed again - this time the binders secured tightly enough to cut off the circulation - Gad rose and turned on Plo, red-faced and screaming. “I will have this ship confiscated!” he raged, “you are all under arrest for illegal contraband, resisting arrest, and attempted murder!”

    “All?” Plo attempted to reason with the furious man. “Officer, she’s the only one with drugs, and the only one who’s resisted anything or attempted to murder anyone,” he insisted. “What have the rest of us done?”

    “SHUT UP!” he bellowed in response, and reared back again with his billy club. This time it struck Plo’s elbow, and he stood firm though resisting to mutter a curse. There was no way to get smashed on the elbow by a club and not have it be a miserable experience.

    “Stop hitting people with that kriffing baton you little troll!” Plo shouted back, and then shielded himself with a forearm from another blow aimed at his face, and one more at his shoulder. What he wasn’t ready for was the kick which came up into his groin with such force that he thought he was going to cough up his own balls.

    Plo too hit the floor then, at least as hard as Syren and the maybe-dead inspector had done, and quickly began to black out.

    “Get them out of here!” Gad ordered, and then looked up as Captain Linkri arrived from the adjoining corridor. “You’re supposed to be sweeping the north wing. What are you doing here?” he asked.

    Linkri looked absolutely confused, and searched himself for an answer momentarily before responding “I don’t know!”

    “WELL GO DO YOUR JOB THEN!” Gad fumed. “Round up everyone else on the ship and bring them to the jail until we can figure out what to do next.”

    ~~~

    Officer Beala was regarding Anark’s newly naked body with a flush in her cheeks and predatory hunger in her eye. She’d maybe never seen such a fine specimen of a man. Of course, she wished he was larger. She stood at least six inches taller and had maybe fifty pounds on him, probably all in pure muscle. She’d grown tired of throwing naked men around like rag dolls and wished just once she could find a human, keyword *human* man big enough to give her the same treatment as she was about to give this handsome little cad. But he would have to do, she thought, as she started to loosen the straps of her armored vest.

    She paused when a transmission came through on her comm. “Attention officers, all personnel on the ship are to be arrested immediately. Regroup at the boarding ramp, stat. No delays.”

    What a drag. “Well sweetie, looks like we won’t have time to play after all. Come on,” she walked up, stepped quickly behind him, pulled his wrists together and slapped the cuffs on. “At least I’ll get to enjoy the view, right?” she smirked, reaching around to give him a sudden squeeze before she led him from the room fully nude.

    ~~~

    “Freeze!” Gad ordered as he approached Lennox and Aryan in the corridor just as the former was finishing his lecture. He had half a dozen inspectors in tow. “Hands behind your backs, you’re both under arrest. Possession of contraband, kidnapping, resisting arrest, and attempted murder of a police officer,” he listed off the charges before they would have a chance to ask. As they were being cuffed, Syren and Haretisch were being dragged by them through the corridor en route to the cargo hold, both looking in less than good condition.

    “Walk!!” Gad barked, and prodded Aryan and Lennox both hard in the lower back with his baton, one after the other.

    When they got to the bottom of the boarding ramp, Syren and Haretisch were being thrown unconscious into the back of a paddy wagon, while Anark was standing completely naked in the light of day in the open spaceport with a huge woman standing behind him. Just behind, Ami Sayul was herself cuffed and being escorted down the ramp as well.

    “You’re all going downtown,” Gad announced.

    They had, however, in the confusion forgotten completely about Cal, Olag, Cheryl, and Valieri. Security sweeps of the ship had failed to locate either them or Bellorum, Vex, and Ike who had all somehow avoided arrest.

    ~~

    Cal and Olag were practically head to head as they leaned over the gurney holding Valieri. Cheryl had woken with a nasty headache, but had been helpful by swiftly carrying Valieri to Cal’s medbay.

    Valieri was in shock and in need of immediate care, so Cal sealed the medbay from the inside. It was a handy function that was designed to quarantine the area in cases of highly infectious patients, and it meant no one would be getting inside until he allowed them.

    Olag had placed his hands on the patient and was seeking out pain receptors to numb, while Cal had inserted a cannula into a vein in her arm to administer medications to keep her sedated.

    ————

    Bellorum stood inside her quarters and was about to speak when she felt things going wrong. Haretisch was taking a beating, but why? She gasped aloud and rushed to a panel beside her door, she splayed her hand on it and used to Force to initiate reinforced durasteel panels to slide across the doorway. No one was coming in unless she allowed them.

    “Ike?” Bellorum called out. She’d felt him standing in her dressing room waiting and was relieved he’d waited for her there.

    “First off,” Bellorum said to Vex, “I recently played the role of slave, and it didn’t go so well,” she scowled, “I won’t do it again willingly, but before we get into that, we need to get out of this mess.”

    TAG: @HanSolo29, @QueenSabe7, @Jerjerrod-Lennox, @Snokers, @Quinlan Vos, @Sinrebirth

    OOC: Sinre and Vos are on a combo with Lady Belligerent.
     
  23. DarthIshyZ

    DarthIshyZ Chosen One star 8

    Registered:
    Jan 8, 2005
    IC Renn
    Hapan Throne Room, and it's about to fall apart... again

    Renn felt himself floating through the air, of course Craziness was having fun and destroying things. His outer ‘skin’ was already hardened to avoid Luke’s attention and that gave him longer before the oxygen inside him was depleted, and the atmosphere of the ship itself was still partially holding. But, time was running out.

    He saw Ser@pis floating around and Luke trying to snag the charred, unconscious Serapis, to separate the team. ‘Can’t let that happen, Helinith would never forgive me if I lost her Master.’ he thought. There was little he could do against the Jedi’s power, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything he could do.

    He shot out an appendage, a tentacle as it were, and grabbed the droid, pulling it close and toward where he surmised his friend would appear to get them out of here. As to Serapis, Renn reached out, and before the bubble could form around Luke and Serapis, he sent a burst of pure energy into his compatriot, to restart his vitals, re-energize him, and get him conscious as swiftly as possible so that he could fight back, assist Renn in getting him away from the Jedi, and out of this situation.

    Serapis stirred. His entire body ached. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, it hurt to be. Having a fleshy body again was already old, though it was a magnificent body. He moved his arms to push himself up. Palms flat on the floor. Pushing. Groaning. He got himself into a sitting position and took in the scene. It was hard to remember what had happened. He did remember one thing. "Lightsider... using... lightning... Dark side..." he grunted. A hand went to his burned ribs as he leaned on his other hand. "Get away... Hapes... Not welcome."

    Luke eyed the man beside him, and readied his lightsaber. He was struggling with the fundamental concept of taking prisoner a man who was unarmed. It hadn't been an issue during the war; Stormtroopers shot at him, Luke killed or disarmed them. Now, the philosophy of keeping the peace was a difficult one to unravel.

    Unconscious, he could take the Acolyte into prison. Conscious, it was an issue... as was dealing with any Force user, he reflected. Pointing at the debris that was circling them in the vacuum, Luke directed it to manacle Serapis, watching for the Neti. Metal twisted and bent, seeking to bind the mans ankles and wrists together... and seal his mouth.

    If he was successful, he would back away, and commandeer a shuttle to depart.

    Renn managed a smile as he advanced on Luke, the man had been flinging his power around as if it were a bottomless well. And Renn had had many years to learn and know that was simply not true, even for one that was known as the Chosen One. He saw that Luke was attempting to use the Force to bind Serapis, which meant his concentration was not on other things, or as much.

    So, he began weaving power into a working. As he clawed his way forward, he released the energy, letting it flow outward, subtly, and sent it to encompass Serapis. When he felt it wrap around his compatriot, he used a portion more of the enormous amount of energy he’d taken in as he threatened the former Matriarch, and set it against the distracted strength and pulled on Serapis.

    As he pulled on Serapis, he yelled for Helinith, hoping the comms were picking up the words, “Hurry, Craziness, as much as I’m enjoying putting on this show for the new Matriarch, we need to break off contact with the very dark sided, supposed Jedi Master.”

    Serapis fell to the floor with a thud and a clang. He tried a retort at the Jedi, but it just came out a garbled mess... and covered his mouth in saliva. Recovered, though, thanks to Renn feeding him energy, he used the Force to remove his restraints. Noting Renn's efforts, he knew Luke would be distracted. He started with the arm restraints. He pulled them free with a bit of difficulty, but learned better how to control the Force with the guard's brain. He finished with the rest with just a bit of effort.

    Free again, and feeling exhilarated, he picked up his lightsaber and realigned the crystal. That silly trick wouldn't work on him again, that's for sure. He jumped to his feet and jumped at Luke, this time aiming to kill.

    Luke felt them coordinating, but wasn't sure what he could do. Turbolasers thudded into the palace-ship, and more and more of the roof was collapsing - and vacuum tugging at them. With a sigh, Luke knew what he had to do.

    Serapis had launched himself at him, and Luke could tell, inadvertently, he'd knocked the man's lightsaber out of alignment but he manually adjusted, swinging. Luke side stepped and grabbed the man with the Force - and grabbed at Renn too - digging deep into his power and throwing them up -

    Targeting the gaps in the ceiling, which, as if on cue, gave way, exposing the entire inner palace to space -

    Luke diverted his strength to pin his feet to the ground, and pushed at the two Sith -

    It was the only way to end this humanely.

    Renn was stalking forward, slowly, and suddenly found himself, and the Ser@pis droid, the tentacle held tight to his side, floating toward the ceiling. Before he could get out of reach of the comms he called out, “Ok, Craziness, hope you can fly that thing like a fighter, seems Serapis and I are coming to you rather than the other way around, and we don’t have much time once we’re out of the throne room.”

    He thickened his bark even more, withdrawing the capillaries and veins that sent nutrients to those areas for the moment, it would be painful as he reversed this, once recovered. After he did, he smiled broadly at the Jedi as he floated higher, “Thanks for earlier, you gave me the idea for this.” He wrapped himself in a bubble of the Force, as broad as he could and still fit through the hole Luke had sent him toward. Such a bubble that could and did retain a breathable atmosphere, at least for a time.

    He began to clear the opening and could see the black vastness of space, the scoring on the Royal ship, the remains of what appeared to be a ship, and a Battle Dragon still strafing the ship. He floated higher and did hope Helinith had understood his message and that she could make a fast approach and pick he and Serapis from among the debris that had been blasted free of the Royal ship. And soon, before either passed out or died from exposure to the vacuum.

    Only one other option remained, beside death, and he’d do so, if it came to it. But for now he’d count on his friend recovering them both, or all three if you counted the droid.

    Just as Serapis was approaching striking distance, Luke got violent on his own. Luke was forcing his trajectory to angle away from Luke and the ceiling of the throne room came crashing down. In frustration, he started slashing back and forth. "No! Death to you!" Finally, as he was being pulled away, he threw the lit saber at Luke, directing it with the Force as best he could.

    As the air thinned, he decided he needed to concentrate on his own survival. He pulled the Force around him like a blanket. He slowed his heart rate and metabolism. Just in time, too, as he and Renn floated free.

    Tags: @darthbernael, @Sinrebirth, @darthhelinith, @Snokers
     
  24. Darth Cocytus

    Darth Cocytus Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    May 8, 2016
    Darth Cocytus
    Dark Lord Ascending Part 8
    The Dark World


    “Excellent, Lady Styx.” Cocytus spoke with soft cold approval, closing his eyes as he reached out into the Force, “Ah! I can feel your anger, your hatred, your malice and your passion to overthrow me! Good! Goood! Hold them close to your heart and nurture them like your own young. Only then will you eventually become strong enough to contest me.”

    The Dark Lord of the Sith then opened his burning yellow eyes and stared at her coldly. “But beware, my apprentice.” Cocytus said in his coldness, “The next time you touch me with the force, pray that you are truly ready to combat me, for when that time comes, I will show no mercy and, if your training is incomplete, you will fall by my blade. That, Lady Styx, iis your only warning.”

    Cocytus then got back into the cockpit of the ship, setting in commands for it to land gently onto the surface of Korriban. He sighed relaxingly as he once again embraced the omnipresent and omnipotent presence of the Dark Side on this world. Once the Ship had landed and the ramp was released onto the ground, Darth Cocytus calmly walked down onto the cursed world with his apprentice following him. He heeded the Sidious AI’s suggestion and led the way to the Tomb of Darth Vader, curious of this ‘Contingency Plan’.

    “Now Lady Styx, my dear apprentice,” Cocytus spoke calmly and soothingly, “Tell me, what do you already know? Do you know the Sith Code? Can you recite it and tell me it’s meaning?”

    @Sinrebirth
     
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  25. darthhelinith

    darthhelinith Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Feb 10, 2009
    IC: Darth Helinith
    Location: 'Peacemaker'

    Helinith watched as best she could through the viewing screens as her chaos rained down on the capital ship below.
    Where the heck was everyone?
    Sometimes she was almost sure she could see lightsaber blades, but maybe it was a trick of the light...
    She reached for her own blades and then remembered (yet again) that they weren't there.

    "Medea? Run a scan! I need to find my lightsabers! Somehow..."
    She could feel a silent humming just behind the back of her head.
    There was a flash as the main dome of the Home One collapsed and Helinith blinked as the control panel in front of her swam in and out of view. One moment she seemed to be falling. She could hear gunshots and cannons but she wasn't sure if they were real. Her head threatened to split in two. There were bursts of blaster fire in front of her, the wind whipped her face. Armour glinted. She groaned and reached out, something solid was cold and hard against her fingers and she gripped it tightly. Her mouth felt dry.

    “Hurry, Craziness, as much as I’m enjoying putting on this show for the new Matriarch, we need to break off contact with the very dark sided, supposed Jedi Master.”

    Renn's words snapped through, the auxiliary command deck reappeared in front of her as she sagged over the controls, panting.

    "Renn...! Um... Will grab you.! Where are...?" She felt out in the force, hesitant, afraid. But there was just his presence, that and two other force sensitives- one who was very much lightsided, and ...Serapis? He had changed, was more real somehow. Hopefully Bo was nearby. "Nevermind, I got ya'... hold on, or rather, don't."

    She swung 'Peacemaker' in as close as she dared, being a one woman, one droid crew, and readied a tractor beam.
    "Atmosphere!" She lifted her knee and jabbed it at the life-support controls whilst her hands began the delicate operation of searching for her friends.

    Tags: @darthbernael @DarthIshyZ @Snokers @Sinrebirth
     
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