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

OOC: Combo with @Silvertough and @Sinrebirth, And a little disclaimer, there is some gore so for those that prefer not to see such, skimming might be better.

IC Bernael and Iudex
Beta class Cruiser Starsprite

Pain….eyes slowly cracked open, pain flooding through Hunger's entire system, and not just the physical, the drained husk he was right now. Another of his family was under attack and from the feel he knew which it was. Her mother did not care, had never truly cared for anything save herself but he could feel the assault that Abeloth was under. The pain drove him, ran rampant through him, released the bonds of his hunger, both that he needed to replenish his physical form and that of the deep and abiding hunger to eat all.

Below him, through the hull, he could sense life forms, Hapans, scurrying about. Drawing on the gauntlets that sealed his garments completely, he cracked the hatch, feeling the vacuum drawing at him, but the small air reservoir giving him a couple hours of breathable air. His eyes dripped darkness behind the mask, an almost sphere of the energy surrounding him. Staggering onto the hull of the cruiser he gazed around.

Toward the forward end the hull was smooth and dropped off, toward the sides the hull curved downward swiftly, and to the aft end he spied a turret. Scanning the sky he could see that the Shadows were off, dealing with other threats, presumably trying to keep parasite fighters from reaching him where he had been stranded. A low growl ran past his dried and cracked lips. He could feel that he needed to feed, and soon.

Slow measured progress across the hull took him to the turret he’d spied. Drawing one saber, he stalked around the turret until he sensed the thinnest section. Plunging the blade into the meta he began cutting through it. His other hand reached and with some of the remaining energy he had he pulled with the Force, feeling his body weaken more as he did. With almost no sound the turret ripped open and he dove through before a steel plate dropped and shut the loss of atmosphere from getting worse.

His shoulder rocked as a blaster bolt hit. Eyes snapping up, his hand reached out and the mask dropped away as the gunner was pulled across the floor with no resistance. His proboscises almost flew from their cheek pouches burrowing deeply into the man’s face, seeking the soup of his mind. His will washed over the screaming Hapan, sucking his life essence away as his proboscises consumed their physical meal.

His eye flitted around the compartment as another blaster bolt ricocheted around. The first Hapan, a snack really, devoid of Force energy, dropped to the deck, a husk. His voice came out in a rasp, ”Come to me, little Hapan. Come seek death.” He stalked forward, slowly, through the pain and the emaciation.



He came around a durasteel wall and grunted as a blaster was pressed against his side and he was shot, repeatedly. A death’s head grin on his face, he turned and snatched the arm and Hapan attached to it closer to him. His writhing proboscises lashed out again and another dying scream heralded the second snack that he devoured. As the husk of a female dropped to the deck he could feel a tiny increase in his energy and a slight filling out of his form. He was going to have to feed even more to regain all his strength and deeper in the ship he could feel one Force user, near or in the ship. That would be his true meal, all the other cattle in his way just the appetizers leading to that one.

Dropping through the hatch of the turret he surprised the troops that had come running to the sound of the screams. Eyes raking them all his will surged even more and they froze, eyes wide and screams, cries uttering from them all as he went one by one around the circle of troops. Stopping before each, he fed, drinking in both their ‘soup’ and soul, feeling his flagging energy boosting, his frame filling out more. And then the last dropped. In the distance he could hear the sound of hatches slamming, barricades being built and fear, exploding behind as the crew realized a nightmare had entered their ship.

---

Iudex awoke to a world of fire. Fire and pain. Something had gone horribly wrong, but to what end remained unclear. He roused deliberately, ignoring the white hot pain that came with every blink of his eyes. And the protests from seemingly every limb.

..And his head, and chest.

Spirits, it was like waking up from a week long binge.

Slowly, with dazed hands, Iudex unclipped himself from his crash seat, collapsing back into a heap onto the floor below. He was still within the crumpled remains of the Haan shuttlecraft, although it appeared as if the vessel was now laying somewhere on it's side. Iudex dragged his body over to the cracked viewport and peered outside.

Then recoiled as a blaster bolt ricocheted harmlessly off the exterior plating.

"Ah.. That must be my host.." He muttered, bringing a hand to his temples, in a vain attempt to soothe the thumping between his ears. Iudex shook his head, crawling back away from the viewport. He would need another way out.

Morwan.

Realization struck him at once. He had survived the unexpected crash, but had his prisoner? It didn't take long for him to get his answer. The crumpled corpse of Morwan lay in the far corner of the cargo hold, her neck snapped at an almost 90 degree angle. She was dead, taking whatever knowledge she may have held with her into the afterlife.

"Blast.." He murmured, nudging at her body with a armored foot. "Whelp.. 'Least I don't have to cart her around any more.. Ah.. Silver linings and all.." Another blaster bolt ricocheted harmlessly off the shuttle's outer plating, followed quickly thereafter by a second, and a third. An annoying plink.. plink.. plink..

Iudex chuckled wearily, glancing back towards the direction of the cockpit. The force provided an answer before he could even ask. There were six. Six men and women were outside, armed with a mishmash of small arms, all seemingly willing to donate their lives to the Sith cause.

It would be rude to be late to a party in his honor. Iudex was a man of principles after all. He strode up to the shuttlecraft's docking port, lightsaber in hand. He could feel the apprehension of the Beta Cruiser's defenders on the other side, a palpable fear that almost permeated the air itself. Iudex leaned in close to the door, before rapping at the cool metal with his knuckles.

tap, tap, tap.

A deep spike of anxiety was the only response. Iudex grinned, palming his lightsaber hilt. Showtime.

With a grunt, Iudex blasted the door inwards with a surge of the force. Two of the defenders died instantaneously, crushed under the mass of the durasteel bulkhead. Iudex followed in it's shadow, leaping inside the corridor of the Beta Cruiser as the remainder of the defenders began to sporadically open fire. He ducked left, igniting his blade into a flurry of crimson light, redirecting bolts harmlessly to and fro.

One after another, the defenders fell to his blade, their bolts bouncing harmlessly off Iudex's heavy armor. Cries of terror and pain filled the cramped corridor, all falling on deaf ears. One by one they fell, each corpse adding to the thin smile growing on Iudex's lips. "You and your kin chose your side!" He growled, bisecting a man from shoulder to waist with a quick flick of his lightsaber. He moved methodically forwards, redirecting whatever blaster bolts came towards the exposed parts of his body.

"You have committed crimes against the Crown and the Sith!" The last defender crumpled to the ground, finding his head removed from his neck. "Perhaps in the next life.." He said, looking down at the collection of bodies with a sneer. "You'll think a little harder, hm?"

Iudex extinguished his blade, clipping it back to his belt as he moved down the remainder of the corridor. His goal was clear, unchanged from before. Make his way to the Star Home. All that was different now was he would have a bigger ship.

He paused, narrowing his eyes. There was a tremor in the force, an aura was growing elsewhere on the ship, one of hunger and madness. Realization struck, and Iudex's lightsaber was once more in his grasp.

It was undeniable, Lord Hunger was aboard. And he was ravenous..

Iudex sighed, opening the nearest door with a nearby switch. He needed to keep some distance between him and the other Sith, at least until Hunger could control himself.

"Yeah.. Like that'll happen.."

---

Only slightly less famished than he’d been before the turret crew and the first patrol he’d fed on, Hunger let his senses track the Force user and headed down the nearest long corridor that appeared to take him in the direction of that presence. A distant, almost drowned out at the moment, part of his mind wondered whether the Force user was a fellow Sith but unless it was his brother in arms, or possibly a couple others, it mattered little even to his intellectual self. So on he stalked.

In moments he came to a hastily thrown up barricade and realized, in his musing about the force user he’d been getting shot and not noticing. His still emaciated skin blister and smoked around the wounds but, if anything his continued presence seemed to arouse even more fear among the defenders. The first he took, even as the other guards shot him was what seemed to be the officer of the bunch, a shrill female Hapan.

Leaping the barricade, letting the various shots ricochet his trajectory, he landed behind the Hapans at the improvised wall. Before him was the officer, hastily pulling at the flap of her holster as he stepped closer. One hand shot out, breaking the wrist grasping for the blaster, the other shot to her throat, pulling her closely. His eyes dripped darkness as her terrified ones stared at the proboscises as they emerged, swaying, from their pouches.

Her mouth opened in a scream and the proboscises took the opportunity to shoot into the open cavity and burrow upward through her soft palette, squirming through her head to reach her mind. As they reached it the tentacles fed and he drank in her soul. Along with the previous kills, he needed the energy immediately to recharge and he suddenly gained more bulk, wounds sealing even as the continued fire opened them, a little more muscle and body to his form.

Once they had cleaned out her skull the proboscises tore their way out of her head and he spun, his will now reaching out and freezing the remaining five troops at the barricade. And then the dance began. His hand flashed to a dagger in one boot as he moved, slashing through the skulls of the first two in line, scooping the minds out and tossing them to the semi sentient proboscises, even as he sucked and devoured their souls. Then next two he danced around hard hits to the bases of their skulls, stunning them before kicking the last hard in the chest, rebounding them off of the barricade and unconscious to the deck.

The proboscises devoured their meals, adding more bulk of muscle and energy to his form, as he spun around the two stunned, standing Hapans, doing to them what he’d done to the first two, and again he fed, ‘batteries’ recharging more. The last, after he was done with those snacks, he stood over, sheathing the dagger, hands closing around the base of the skull and lifting, ripping the head, skull, and spine straight out of the body. His proboscises dove up the open neck and devoured their physical meal as he devoured the soul. Slightly more revived, he dropped the empty head to the deck and continued down the hall.

At a lift his head tracked like a hunting creature, tracking the aura of the force user, down and somewhere toward the aft section of midships and onboard, moving. He smiled hungrily then dove down the open lift shaft, bypassing a floor and then slamming the talons of his hands and feet into the shaft to stop himself before pushing off with his legs and into a corridor on a level that felt closer to the Force user. He let the Hunger that had become part of himself run loose as he headed down the corridor, a predatory smile on his face as he listened to the muffled thumps of bodies collapsing to the deck all around him, their essences, their souls flowing into him.

There wasn't much more to add, really. The surviving crew members rushed to the escape pods, launching them all and abandoning four Hapan crewmembers. They crowded into the bridge, begging for help over the comms as a system was activated remotely by the fleeing coward of a captain...

Over the tannoy it blared out.

Self-destruct sequence activated; ten minutes to detonation.

Nothing added to the capture of an enemy ship like both a hungry Anzati and imminent immolation.

Would Bernael even care?

What would Iudex do?

From the bridge of course, there was a flutter of something in the Force...

Just for good measure,

---

Iudex pressed onward, rounding corner after corner. Ever aware of the gnawing aura growing behind him. Lord Hunger had sensed him, and he was getting closer by the minute. Far too close for Iudex's liking. All he could do was hope that the being had fed enough by the time they met up. If not..

Iudex shook his head, running his thumb over his lightsaber's activator switch. He would cross that bridge when he got to it. No use worrying beforehand. The ship's alarm klaxons increased in their pitch, signaling yet another issue he needed to deal with.

Self-destruct sequence activated; ten minutes to detonation. Self-destruct sequence activated; ten minutes to detonation. ...

"Tsk. Ah." He clicked his tongue, beads of sweat beginning to drip from his forehead. "Sure, why not! I wasn't already busy!" He yelled, his voice echoing through the empty halls. Iudex pressed onward, ignoring the creaks and groans from his battered body as he increased his pace. The Bridge, that was his destination. If he could get there, he might be able to reverse the automated self-destruct. If not himself, then by forcing whatever crew was left to do it.

Which would only be possible if Hunger didn't get there first. Yet another problem to add to the pile.

"Oh why did I have to get stuck with Hunger?" Iudex bemoaned, now all but sprinting towards the vessel's bow. "Hate and I would have made short work of this battle.."

Iudex rounded a corner, his speed bouncing him off the far wall and he continued on. The Bridge lay ahead, it's doors apparently sealed off from the inside. That wouldn't do, not at all. "Hey! Lemme in! There's a crazy Sith out here! Hey!" He yelled, banging his fist against the cold door in quick repetition.

To no response. Either everyone inside was already dead, or.. Something else was already inside.

With a growl of frustration, Iudex ignited his lightsaber and plunged its blade deep into the durasteel door, of a mind to just cut a path through. There wasn't time to toy with his prey, not this time.

Self-destruct sequence activated; eight minutes to detonation..

Not this time..

His form almost restored, Hunger continued his slow, steady progress through the cruiser. As he continued, he found fewer and fewer Hapans and as he senses quested out he felt why, the vast majority had fled, escaping however they could. A grim smile crossed his face as he pulled back in the energy he’d expended to drain those that had not fled. Ahead he could feel the presence of a few souls, including that of the Force user, as well as something flickering in the Force itself, on what could be the bridge.

Self-destruct sequence activated; ten minutes to detonation. Self-destruct sequence activated; ten minutes to detonation. ...

A dark chuckle came from Hunger’s lips, such an explosion would annoy him but, in his current state, would be the extent of it. Besides, one less ship for the rebel Hapans to use wasn’t a bad thing. His pace picked up slightly but otherwise he continued as he had.

Self-destruct sequence activated; eight minutes to detonation..

Ahead he could sense himself approaching the force user as well as could hear the hiss of a saber being run through metal. Presumably that one was attempting to get through a closed hatch. His smile turned positively feral.

A few more paces took him to the exit to the corridor and the open space before the bridge. As he had thought there was someone there, trying to cut through the hatch. It was a Falleen and he, even in this state seemed to recognize the creature. ’Hmmm….Iudex, was it?’ he thought.

Leaning against a support pillar by the exit of the corridor he’d just left, he watched the Falleen for a time, getting a feel for the man’s power and will. A pair minutes ticked by as he observed.

Self-destruct sequence activated; six minutes to detonation…

Pitching his voice so it sounded as though he was standing just behind Iudex’s shoulder, ”Are you going to cut through that sometime today?” he asked, in a cold, humorous voice.

The door actually burst open at that point, and the four Hapans inside opened fire, clearly having coordinated to release the lock and fire, filling the doorway with rapid-fire -

There was a click, and a missile launch at close range -

Clearly these guys had the foresight to raid the armory as they locked themselves in -

Iudex simply glowered at Hunger in response to his jest, instead focusing on slowly twisting his blade within the door. He was making progress, albeit slowly. The center of the door had begun to melt, dripping away in a viscous slag of molten metal.

Self-destruct sequence activated; five minutes to detonation…

"Lord Hunger," He said, glancing over his shoulder, "What a coincidence, seeing you here. Take it you've satiated some of those hunger pains, hm?" Iudex looked back at the door, brows furrowing. He didn't have enough time to cut through these doors, not with what tools he had present. He knew it, Hunger knew it, and whoever was left inside the bridge knew it.

But, by some galactic sense of providence, the twin doors split open by command of whoever was left inside. A foolish decision, all things considered. The vessel's self-destruction would have been relatively quick, painless even. The defenders could have gone quietly, content in the knowledge that they would have taken two Sith Lords with them to the afterlife.

But now, now they would bear witness to the true cruelty of the Sith.

The doors slid open, and in their wake rushed forth a hail of blaster bolts. A fruitless gesture, as made evident by their consumed compatriots. Iudex, having been closest to the door, was targeted first.

As like before, the bolts ricocheted harmlessly off the contours of his armored plating into the walls around him. A spectacular light show of encroaching death. He swatted away the errant blaster bolt with his blade, having no intention to redirect them back at those who fired them. He simply marched forwards at a steady cadence, quietly relishing in the budding terror in the remaining Bridge defenders.

Maybe he had a little time to toy with his prey.

Finally noticing that their blasters were less than effective, one of the four Hapan defenders fired a missile, at nearly point blank range. Iudex ducked to the side, nudging the tail-end of the missile so that it would instead shoot off down the long corridor behind him. Ah well, he had his fun. With a sneer, Iudex jutted his hand out, yanking free the weapons of the Hapan and tossing them disdainfully behind him, slashing them apart as they sailed overhead.

"You lot backed the wrong side." He stated pointedly, brushing past the now disarmed defenders without a second glance. He had spied a rather important console near the center of the Bridge. "I'm almost sorry for what's coming next. Truly." Iudex continued on, leaving their fates at Hunger's feet.

Or, his proboscises, more likely. The more Hunger ate, the more restrained he would become, Iudex figured. The less chance he would turn on his fellow Sith.

But he put all that behind him, focusing instead on the console before him.

Self-destruct sequence activated; three minutes to detonation…

The Force signature revealed itself to Bernael, at least; one of the Hapans was mildly Force sensitive. Indeed, he shouted orders to the others. "Now!"

They drew vibroblades each, and also a small blaster with an oversized nose. Recognising that the Falleen was trying to stop the self-destruct, the man pointed at the Anzati. "Him!"

The blasters fired razor-sharp flechettes, and they charged -

Hunger had kept up his relaxed posture even as the hatch had slammed open. Iudex was in the direct line of fire so it would be interesting to see how the Falleen dealt with their foes. If he won then it mattered little, if he lost it was another strong meal. But the man had disarmed the Hapans, blew through their defenses and left them behind to see if he could stop the self destruct.

As the four troops reacted, drawing blades and a snub gun, he stood up straighter and time slowed, or seemed to. His gaze raked the Hapans, four vibroblades and….a slug thrower it seemed as the shell discharged and the blossomed into a cloud of flechettes rocketing his way. What to him felt like a slow, lazy smile crossed his face even if, in the boost, it seemed like a quick grin to the Hapans.

The leader held his interest most as he simply moved, tasting the minimal Force essence in them. ’Ahhh, more than a snack here…’ he thought as he went from one side of the entryway to the other, in less than the blink of an eye, then up the wall to the corner of the walls and ceiling. He could tell his speed was still not up to full strength as he’d felt the tug of several of the flechettes slash through the already torn cloak he wore.

His hand disappeared under the cloak then whipped forward, even as he heard the weapon being cocked for another shot. A second smile crept over his face as the dagger he’d thrown impacted, tip flashing down the barrel and impacting the round even as the hammer fell. The shock and confusion was evident as the blast from the round detonating in the chamber threw the four backward.

And then there was no more time for them, he was among them, talons out. Closing his fist he punched the leader in the temple, satisfied as the, now unconscious form, suddenly dropped like their strings had been cut. As he punched a foot lashed out, a low growl as a vibroblade sliced through muscle but his kick held true, rocking the head of one trooper back, a satisfying crunch as the spine snapped. He could still feel a heartbeat so a snack before the first entrée.

Spinning, feeling the muscle trying to bind back together as he put weight on the leg one hand leapt out like a striking snake, talons punching through muscle and bone as he reached into the troopers chest. One of their hands closed around his arm trying to pull it out as it burrowed deeper and he grunted as they ran him through, where a heart should be, otherwise ignoring the wound. Both the hand holding the blade and the one holding his arm fell away as his fist closed around the Hapan’s heart, ripping it from their chest.

Turning to the last standing, casually tossing the heart over his shoulder, he could see the man standing there, blade in hand but in shock at the sudden demise of the other three, or so he thought, not to mention the fact he still had a vibroblade stuck through his torso. Hunger sighed, this was boring, when they froze so he used a variation of what he’d done to the hangar around Snoke in that fight. Snapping his fingers, the Hapan simply melted, he’d flashboiled all the water in the man’s body.

Turning to the one with the broken neck, he lifted the body, his proboscises flashing out and burrowing quickly into the body, The heart ceased beating as he sucked in the soul, devouring its energy to rebuild his strength and recharge him after this fight, even as the tentacles fed. A moment later they pulled loose of the body and he dropped it to the deck. Lifting the body of the leader, he smiled as the Hapan’s eyes began to open, only to find themselves face to face with him.

A dark smile, ”Nice try…” he said flatly just before the proboscises flashed again, diving into the man’s head. He held the body off to the side as he strode toward Iudex. In a muffled tone, as though his mouth was full, a side effect of the proboscises feeding, ”Going to get that turned off so we can use this ship or not?”

When he reached the console Iudex was at his eyes scanned it even as he finished feeding, a sigh at the better quality meal of the last Hapan. The proboscises retracted into their cheek pouches and he negligently tossed the emaciated body over a nearby console, where it flopped like a ragdoll before settling into place. ”If you do, perhaps we can retrieve Hate’s body on the way back.”

Iudex ignored the horror show happening behind him, instead focusing on the singular blinking console before him. The display was as alone as the console it belonged to, showing but a single line. "Self-destruct sequence activated; two minutes to detonation…" He narrowed his eyes, bypassing the prompt to find the underlying command line.

>>Enter Password...

The sounds of slaughter behind him grew, sending an unconscious shiver down his spine. As revolting as he found the man's methods, Iudex couldn't deny their effectiveness. He certainly didn't want to be caught on the opposing side, that's for sure. The command blinked in tune to the alarm klaxons reverberating about the Bridge, adding further annoyance to the task.

>Heritage Council
>>Incorrect Password. Tries remaining : 2
>Self-destruct sequence activated; two minutes, thirty seconds to detonation…

Iudex scratched his chin, glaring at the display.

>AlGray
>>Incorrect Password. Tries remaining : 1

He growled, running a hand through his braided hair. "Yeah yeah I'm working on it.. If you're still hungry, Morwan AlGray's corpse is somewhere on the shuttle. Still fresh, if that means anything.." He muttered, clenching his fist at the mocking display.

"No.." He muttered, narrowing his eyes. "It couldn't be that easy.. Could it?" He thought back to his first encounter with the Heritage Council's fleets. Morwan had used the callsign True Believer to identify herself as an ally to the fleet.

"True.. Believer.." Iudex intoned, typing in the letters as he spoke. The console sat infuriatingly unchanged for a moment, only further adding to the Falleen's frustration.

>>Password accepted. Welcome Captain.
>>Halt Self-Destruct Sequence? Y/N

Iudex chuckled in relief, halting the sequence with a firm keypress. These rebels were nothing if not consistent, a fact Iudex was becoming more and more thankful for. He exhaled, looking back at Hunger with a raised eyebrow.

"So." He said, taking a mental note of the state of the bodies strewn about the Bridge. "Where to, Lord Hunger?"

TAG: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @Silvertough, @darthhelinith, @E. L.Knight, @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Aurra Sing
Damaged wing of the Royal Palace, Hapes

Well the man - he'd surprised her, lashing out with a powerful Force blow and sending Aurra down and almost out, black creeping at the edge of her vision. She barely managed to catch the blow at her neck but the kick sent her tumbling, blood dribbling from her mouth; he'd at very least broken a rib where his foot had impacted -

The woman felt her exhaustion creeping in - with a single meal of prison food to sustain her, she was ill-equipped to fight Darth Hades, let alone this dance involving... whatever the hell was happening to those two... and the green-Twi'lek, doing some kind of crazy Nightsister magic on the tentacle-woman.

Aurra cast a glance from Shimmer and Abeloth to Solilqouy, and just shook her head at Hades. "I think I'll pass, if I may." With a salute, she drew her blaster and opened fire on Soliloquy, intending to force Hades to defend, and as she went she ran -

Whatever Hades intended, of course, it would be abruptly interfered with -

His chest screamed at him, and his flesh contorted and strained to reveal an Abeloth-face being drawn out. The pain was excruciating - completely and utterly impossible, as if Soliloquy was drawing his heart from Hades -

In a way, he was; this was his body, his old one, consumed, reconstituted, and then taken back by him when the Dagger of Mortis was used on Abeloth - back on Mortis, over two years ago now. But it was also something she had rebuilt, with her tentacles and Force-will.

The shade was not fully drawn from Shimmer, he face contorted into an unvoiced scream, as if she was rictus, perhaps even dead already, with Soliloquy merely peeling away the outer shell to the truth -

But more of Abeloth was caught in the trap than not, and clearly the strength that Soliloquy had drawn upon was not waning. His only weakness, which Abeloth whispered to even as her eyes bored into him, was the contradictions of his family, of his past, of the greater scheme being woven through them and him - his distractedness was a crack that the Chaos Goddess would leverage, and lean upon - only with resolution could he drive her free -

But at what point would he succeed?

Before Shimmer died?

Or before Hades joined her? Would he? Could he, if Soliloquy didn't draw the last of Abeloth out into his trap?

- and Hades, would he put up with this pain, so obviously inflicted upon him by Soliloquy? Could he power through? Could he find something to power him, a thought, or a feeling, to override this moment and keep himself as Hades, and not just another avatar of Abeloth?

What would they choose?

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @E. L.Knight
---
Elsewhere in the Royal Palace, Hapes

Aurra Sing had other objectives to complete for Ducha Galney, a three-point contract that she was merely two points through. Firstly, infiltrating the Palace by way of an assassination attempt. Next, the destruction of the shield generator. Finally, the usurpation of Royal communications so Galney could declare her victory to the entire Hapan Consortium - and also to prevent the Royal Palace from intervening.

Flashing security cams as she went with the Force, she absently continued on with stage three in her mind.

The bounty hunter had administered a heavy bribe to Corporal Torrents to keep the ComSec team neutral until Galney won, but Aurra had no desire to rely upon mere greed. Only when she had shoved her lightsaber through the last console would she be satisfied that the Royal Palace was isolated from the orbital battle and also everyone else, would her contract be finalised. Indeed, she was sore that she'd not get that bonus, because she hadn't killed Helinith. Never mind. There was no need to overstretch herself.

Using the Force to start upon her wounded ribs, Aurra was focused on herself to the point of her Force presence being tiny by the time she reached ComSec, and so she was not visible to Serapis-Astarta... but neither was the former Ithorian apparent to her. As such they both entered ComSec - a small room filled with consoles, screens, wires and four techs - at the same time, through opposing entrances.

Aurra widened her eyes at Astarta, recognised the loyalist General, and of course Torrents, whose eyes widened in shock -

The bounty hunter shot him, and promptly launched forward, igniting her lightsaber and decapitating one tech before he had any idea what was gong on -

The three others, who had been indolently listening to comms but not rerouting them, went from sedentary to terrified in an instant -

TAG: @DarthIshyZ
---
In orbit, a depopulated Beta-class cruiser

The self-destruct stopped, in typical last minute fashion, borrowing anew from the spy-movie motif that appeared to be dominating Iudex's life at present. The monster peering over him at the console, of course, was not apart of the genre, but Bernael at least would have acquired some of his mental faculties since his latest feed, as eloquent as he had been with his mouth part-full.

The Force would confirm their fears, that Manticore was gone.

Long gone.

There was merely the debris of the Kendall and other AlGray warships to remember the Zabrak by, and the Sith heirarchy was again blown apart.

The two of them would be able to discover several things. Firstly, the Beta-class had been automated by the remaining crew so they had control of engines, and limited weapons. Secondly, that the three Resurgent-class Star Destroyers were putting the small flotilla belonging to the Queen Mother in a pincer with the Galney flotilla, and they were thus imperilled. But all they really had were engines, and no major weapons and no escape pods.

The remaining parts of the Royal Fleet were locked in combat with the last parts of the Heritage Fleet, outside what was left of the minefield. They had minimal options and resources to hand, but a straight line flight-path out of the wreckage of over a hundred Hapan Battle Dragons - from both sides.

Bernaels hunger bleated at him, eager to not just regain a degree of decorum of the mind but to add the Falleen to it's food-bank. It wasn't an impossible urge to sate, especially as it was continuing to be distracted by the phantom pain the shadows had left when they emerged, but also the continuing barrage of pain from the surface below - as Soliloquy took chunks out of Abeloth, so too did the Anzati feel pain...

That left them aboard a functional but not particularly useful ship, needing to stop three Star Destroyers that weren't even facing them - the Destroyers were so confident that they were purely focused upon the death of Helinith, displaying the typical Imperial arrogance, reborn in the First Order.

What could the two of them achieve?

TAG: @darthbernael, @Silvertough

TAG: @darthbernael, @darthhelinith, @E. L.Knight (Song of War defence combo continues)
---
IC: Zelmar
The Past, Coruscant

Their ship reached the edge of the Jedi Temple and dropped slowly to the floor, choosing an isolated side-passage to hover by. Four-legged lizards padded the walls, and a snake-like creature curled around one of the Jedi towers. Zelmar led his apprentice out of their ship, scowling at the nightmarish visage. Huyang was activated anew, but his vocabulator was muted - Zelmar didn't care for a running commentary as they breached the Jedi Temple.

He did however speak to Azathoth as he went.

"For millennia the Jedi ruled from this Temple, interrupted only briefly by the wars of the time." Zelmar gestured to the building in earnest. "This was their keep; their fortress against the Dark. Within these walls was encased a great fount of the Force, emerging from the life-strong world of Coruscant. The Jedi secured the planets potential in stone, to prevent it from being abused."

The Sith Lord chuckled. "Thus the hypocrisy of the galaxies 'great defenders' is emphasised; that they rule while pretending to want to do anything but. The Jedi gain power through knowledge, they used to say, but the Sith? We gain knowledge through power instead - by what we take, with our strength." He squeezed his fist, and Zelmar turned to the Temple wall, nondescript, with no noticeable difference to any other wall.

"Brace yourself," Zelmar said, without really explaining why. He raised his hand, made a fist of it, and drove it down, a massive Force exertion driving down into the wall and through, blowing rock and masonry up into the air, smoke billowing out that Zelmar swatted aside with a flutter of his hand. But using that much Force? It caused all the various creatures of the night to howl, and scream, and snarl out -

Everything here spoke of his action, and Zelmar snarled. "Come, come." He produced a remote, and tossed it to Azathoth. "Be ready."

The hole in the Temple, it revealed a staircase that seemed to run through the Jedi Temple wall, and down, down. Zelmar leapt down the cavernous passageway, threading a circle of stairs as - the night seemed to pursue them. Shadows erupted as ghouls with red-eyes; a wave of mutated Hawk-bats pursued them; all manner of twisted human, all with thorn-like protrusions from their neck and face, came ambling after them, walking around the dropped ramp of their ship, as if they didn't even see it.

Huyang looked startled and fled down, while Zelmar ignited a crimson blade and swatted aside anything which grew too close. But there dozens on their way, far too many to fight. "Apprentice! Hurry!"

TAG: @Shadowsun
---
IC: Styx
Arriving at Kamino

When they left their homeworld, Kamino was being left by various ships as they departed; the shuttles of Gideon, the battered Star Destroyer of Eccressys, and of course Ship, which belonged to Snoke.

But by the time they returned? It was a very different scene. Styx blinked in the Kaminoan-equivalent of consternation as she regarded the view. Three Mon Calamari cruisers and nearly two dozen frigates and corvettes hung in orbit, a determined collection of firepower to any world. X-wings were running a patrol circuit, and promptly one hailed them.

"This is Captain Antilles of Rogue Squadron. Arriving ship, please identify yourself... and confirm if you require aid." Styx realised the New Republic pilot was referencing the damaged-exterior finish, which she and the droids hadn't spent much time on save to ensure the repaired ship was vacuum tight.

She looked at Cocytus, conscious he would want to handle this.

TAG: @Darth Cocytus

Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

OOC: Renn, @darthhelinith as Helinith, @E. L.Knight as Morrigan, and @Sinrebirth as the NPC's, and Sabel

IC Renn, Helinith, Morrigan, Sabel
Song of War and surroundings

Sabel heard the command from the female Sith soon after he felt the death of one of the two Sith he’d followed here and the near death of the second. And then Zestus opened a channel, giving him a look. He nodded to the Captain of his Red Guard, no words needed. However, for the others, and for those in the know to know, he opened a general, wide broadcast channel, knowing every ship in the vicinity could hear.

”Resurgent and Nebula fighter wings pull back, return to ship. The deal made has ended, those who made it, dead or...having become what their title claims them to be, it seems. We returned to assist and observe the strength of this Order of Sith. And the time has not yet come for our return, we will abide and strengthen further.”

As the order went out and he observed the obedience to the order, he turned his TIE toward the Nebula, opening a private channel to both Captains, ”Once the fighters have embarked, pull back to a safe distance and we shall observe this battle. If the Sith show they may prevail we shall support them. The rebel Hapans, no.”

-----
Aboard the Song of War

Renn shifted, into a sinuous, snake like shape, fast and lean. His reptilian head turned toward Helinith and Morrigan. ”Sssomeone needsss to coordinate the battle, Morrigan, asssissst to repel thossse incoming craft, catch up…” he hissed out, even as Sabel’s message began to broadcast.

Turning, he flashed out of the door, racing down the corridor, diving down the side of the lift shaft, clawed hands slowing his descent enough to control it until he swarmed out of the shaft on the hangar deck. Jumping, he shifted back to his last shape, marshalling the Hapan troops nearby, setting a barricade inside the hangar doors, before striding out into the middle of the hangar, unlit sabers in two hands, two more growing, lightning crackling in the fingers of one while the other was held loosely, ready to begin grappling at troop transports as they attempted to board.

Morrigan moved quickly. She found herself in the hangar slower than the others, but she had armed herself on the way. She'd not brought any weapons except her small blade when entering the Hapan palace and she didn't feel like fighting a bunch of soldiers with a dagger.

She'd found a double vibroblade in the armory on her way down, as well as a blaster rifle she was familiar with. It was an older E-22 Blaster Rifle, which she'd gotten to use a few times when her father had been to the training range and fired through a variety of weapons.

She had the rifle at the ready and the double vibroblade was laying across a crate she was taking cover behind.

Helinith watched Renn go and felt peeved- peeved that he'd thought to go before she had and peeved that she couldn't follow him.

It would have been the perfect opportunity for a show of power from the queen... but perhaps she could try something else, something bigger. She looked at her hands, studied them for a moment then looked back out at the battle around them. She was good at manipulating objects with the force but could not remember the last time she had attempted something so big.

She closed her eyes and reached out, attempting to grab the nearest battle dragon and nudge it, first just slightly off course, and then push and drag it into its nearest neighbour.

The first Hapan shuttle landed without any issues, spraying fire from it's suppression cannons as it came in - part of the team Renn had rallied vanished in the turbolaser burst, spraying flaming debris upon the survivors, the Neti, and Morrigan -

The second shuttle had already inverted, dropping itself and twenty -

- First Order stormtroopers pouring out.

Snoke had even given Galney some of his cannon fodder -

The first shuttle began to turn, looking to settle down in the narrow confines -

Outside the hangar a third shuttle held position for a moment, and was blown out the sky by an X-wing -

A fourth vanished in a bolt fired from the Song of War's cannons -

As for Helinith, her efforts weren't entire in-vain, she managed to turn some turbolaser batteries aside, but the Dragon was too massive, too dedicated to be diverted by her use of the Force from this great a distance -

One of her five Battle Dragons exploded, though two Battle Dragons of Galney were down -

The Star Home, slightly below, was being savaged by First Order Star Destroyers, its shields the focus of all its power, not a single turret firing such was it's dedication to defence -

They were running out of choices, and time, and loyal bodies -

Morrigan took aim and started firing controlled bursts, two at a time, at the white armored troopers. she knew, from experience, their armor was mostly useless. It was always quantity over quality with the empire and apparently with the First Order.

She would aim and fire then track to the next target whilst remaining behind cover. Some of the flaming debris had landed near her but not on her. She never even so much as flinched.

Renn ducked, hardening his bark as the first shuttle fired in his direction. Straightening, he saw that many of the Hapans he’d brought into the hangar were gone, a definite disadvantage. He smiled to himself, thinking back to a recent major battle, also near here, in space. As he did he shifted, roaring, as a 3 meter tall, six limbed gorillon took the place of the dark tree form he’d worn into the battle.



Two arms clutched sabers, the two lower ones, and the upper ones empty, for now. Darting swiftly through the fire, he roared through the gathered FO troops, bowling them over in a wave as his upper arms swept out, the hits from the massive limbs throwing the white armored troops around the hangar. He could feel blaster bolts impacting, singing his fur and scooping out small divots in his hide.

Seconds later he passed through the formation of troops from the second shuttle to have entered, bounding up the landing ramp of the craft and into the body of it. Behind him those that had survived his initial rampage were now turned, half facing up the ramp and half facing the inner entrance to the hangar. Blaster fire followed him up and into the shuttle, ricocheting around inside, some piercing him as they flew

Here the sabers lit and he swung those arms out and downward at an angle, slicing through the sidewalls of the shuttle as his feet stomped dinner plate sized holes in the deck and his upper arms and claws ripped gaping holes in the ceiling panels, through electronics, deep into the body of the shuttle.

Continuing his rampage, he swept through the body of the shuttle and then reached the bridge. Grinning a mouthful of fangs, his free hands grabbed the pilots, ripping them from their command couches, and used their bodies to break out the windows before he leaped out of the nose, tossing the broken forms out of the hangar shields and into the vacuum.

Spinning, he bounded through the fire from the first shuttle, feeling long swaths of his fur being singed off by the turbolaser fire of that craft, as he ducked and dodged the bolts. Getting inside their range he dove, feet first, under the shuttle as it crouched on the deck. The sabers ripped into the hull plating before coming down in a double arc, slashing through one of the main landing struts. Coming to a crouch, he boosted his strength, with a Force Push as he stood, roaring once more and lifting the end of the shuttle, flipping it on its side. A predatory grin returned to his face as he heard movement inside, rattling around, as the shuttle settled on it’s side.

Bounding back to the loyal Hapan lines, he stayed in this shape for now, even as it smoked and ‘bled’ from the various wounds he’d taken on the rampage. ”That should even things a bit, for now…” he growled through a mouth full of fangs.

-----

Sabel strode onto the bridge of the Nebula and up to the viewscreen. His hands clasped behind his back, a nod to Zestus, as he watched the battle unfold before him. Most of the fighter squadrons had returned to the Nebula and Resurgent, several staying on patrol to ensure that the Ducha’s forces didn’t decide to take advantage and so far they’d had to ‘dissuade’ some frights from those Battle Dragons from attacking.

He turned, gazing in Zestus’s direction. ”Aside from the two we met, Captain, these Sith seem to not be battle minded, at least at this level. How do you see that in relation to keeping the deal we made? I can feel at least one of those two is still alive, but beyond them, I am not impressed, at the moment.” He turned back to the viewscreen, hands still clasped behind his back, while he waited for his Red Guard to respond.

Helinith scowled at her gloved hands.

Not good enough.

For the first time, she wondered whether the sith lords who had sought greater connection to the force and power were quite so mad as they had previously seemed. She was a queen now, surely she needed to be stronger than this…

“Deploy the interdiction mines to absorb enemy fire and switch all firepower to target the communications arrays. I want them completely deaf to each other, so they can’t coordinate.”

She strode over to life support.

“Make preparations to vent the hangar of atmosphere, but not unless I give the word.”

Finally she opened a com to Renn.

“Hey tree-boy, I can vent the atmosphere in your section if you want, but you won’t have much time to get clear first.”

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @Silvertough, @darthhelinith, @E. L.Knight, @Mitth_Fisto

 

OOC: Double Post apporved by GM, Bernael, Sabel Iudex by @Silvertough, and @Sinrebirth NPCs

IC Bernael, Iudex, and Sabel
The Hapan Battle continues

Hunger glanced at Iudex, a smile forming behind the mask, ”Congratulations, the ship is no longer going to explode, now what do you have up your sleeve to finish this battle, before I get too hungry again?”his voice low, the tone sounding almost as though he hoped the other Sith did not which would give him a reason to feed on a Force user with a good deal of energy.

Trying to sense who was still out there, still alive, he found his depleted reserves did not reach as far as they normally did. There was no sense of Manticore, as though he truly was gone. ”Hmmm, with Hate gone it seems, the way the Emperor set it, I need to ensure the Order survives.” he muttered under his breath, almost sarcastically. The continuing pain from the death of Mgnnal-Mgnnal wore at his reserves as well, and there was even more pain, he could sense one other of the godly fragments was being assaulted and that pain was almost equal to that from the initial loss, bringing a growl to his lips.

Glancing around the bridge to distract from the sudden desire to simply raise his will and take the Faleen, a thought came to him. Walking over to the console the drained Hapan was draped over, he grabbed one loose arm and tossed the body across the room. The console it had been over had all the appearance of the comm console so he pulled out his wristpad, glancing at the comm function of it, then putting a certain comm code into the console. As the holo pickup lit, he looked into it and began…

-----
Onboard the Nebula

Sabel stood at the viewport, gazing out as the battle continued, the destroyed Battle Dragons the Sith commanded showing the battle was turning against them, the First Order SDs contributing to the slow death of that group. As he began to shake his head at having thought that coming and assisting these Sith had been a good idea, a cough and “Lord….” sounded behind him.

Turning to face the bridge he saw that a comm officer was looking directly at him, ”Yes?” the question also an order to continue.

The comm officer’s face paled slightly, “Sir, there is an incoming call for you, a Lord Hunger…”

The corner of Sabel’s lip turned up for a moment, a glance at Zestus, as though to say ’I told you he lived…’ and then he nodded to the comms officer, ”Open the channel, I will speak to him.”

An image appeared near him, the same Sith he’d spoken to before, but somehow appearing, seeming somewhat emaciated, leaner, and radiating a sense that gave truth to his title, Hunger. The image began to speak, ”Lord Sabel, should our deal still hold, at least between us, I request assistance to, at least distract the FO craft, while the ship I have commandeered approaches and disables or destroys them.”

Sabel nodded, thinning about it. ”A man’s word is his bond, but you did tell me that your Order was strong and powerful, that I would come to see a display of your strength, and to this point, sans Hate and yourself, the Order seems to be failing in their task. I can offer you safe haven as I depart with my craft, unless you have something more to offer.”

--

Whatever sense of relief Iudex may have felt vanished in an instant. Hunger was right, halting the self-destruct sequence was merely a prelude to the greater struggle ahead. There was still a battle raging all around them. A battle which the Sith were very much losing. He, or they, needed to find some way to tip the odds back into the Sith's favor.

Iudex took a cursory glance at their recently hijacked ship's systems, his stare growing harder as he flicked between subsystems. "Shields. Minimal." He stated blankly, tightening his hand into a fist. "Escape pods, all deployed. Engines, damaged but functional. Life support.. Nominal. No, belay that, functional but spotty. As for weapons.." He trailed off, redirecting his gaze to Hunger's face. The crew had not been enough to satiate him, it would seem.

Iudex raised an eyebrow, before returning back to the console. The nature of Hunger's volatility would force Iudex's hand. As long as the two of them were alone together, such notions as "the survival of the Sith" were of little consequence. Hunger needed to feed. Now.

"We've lost the majority of our big guns. We have a couple of point defense cannon batteries left, looks to be two laser, and one ion. Which... Does not leave us with a lot of options. We don't have the firepower to take on anything more than maybe a corvette or two, let alone a Star Destroyer.." Iudex grimaced, stroking his chin. "Or the mass, if you were thinking about ramming anyone.."

He rose to his feet, clasping his hands behind his back as he began to pace. An idea had wriggled its way into his head. An Idea that was, frankly put, ridiculous. Suicidal. But, if they could pull it off..

Iudex came to an abrupt halt in front of the bridge's viewport. Before him lay the shattered remains of two fleets, one heathenous traitors, the other dutiful servants to the Sith cause. He chuckled humorlessly, glaring at the unmistakable profiles of Star Destroyers in the far distance. Traitors, servants.. These Hapan will be the fire through which the Sith will be forged. If we fail here, our destinies will be made clear. We were simply hapless children, grasping at our dreams, just out of reach. But.. If we survive.. 'When' we survive, the lessons taught here will be instrumental in our conquests.. It was difficult to not wax poetic when the futures of so many hung in the balance. A balance which could be upset by so few.

Iudex turned on his heels, once more facing Hunger. "The Battle Dragons are of no concern to us. Let the Hapan fight among themselves. We're taking those Star Destroyers, the same way we snatched this one. If we can lower one of their shields, we simply insert ourselves in via one of the docking bays. I'll reset the self-destruct sequence once we're aboard, boom." He crossed his arms over his chest, glancing towards the comm console. "If we can get onboard, I'll let you do your thing, I'll take control of the Bridge."

He huffed, shrugging. "Whole lotta 'maybes' involved, but it's all I got. We take one of those Star Destroyers, we simply rinse and repeat with the others. The hard part is lowering their shields, after that.. Easy."

---

Sabel did not see the other Sith on the bridge of the other ship, as the pickup was focused on Lord Hunger. But he did hear what the man said. One hand raised, stroking his chin in thought, and then gazed at Zestus, as though asking if the Red Guard thought he could lead a fighter strike on one or more of the FO SDs, taking out the shield generators. His Guard Captain looked sour, a decidedly grumpy look on his face that his Master was contemplating assisting these Sith further. But he still nodded, flatly stating, without words, that he could and would do so if Sabel ordered it.

Sabel nodded in return, then contemplated a few moments longer, sighing as though asking himself why he continued on this path when the futility of this Sith Order’s plight seemed evident at the moment. A determined gaze crossed his face and his arms returned to clasping behind his back. ”My fighters can carry out several strikes, attacking across the First Order vessels, but primarily aiming to destroy shield generators along the way. That is as much aid as I am willing to give, at the moment, unless you and your Sith can pull yourselves out of this predicament. Otherwise, the offer stands to add you to my ranks, and enlarge the Imperial presence in the UR.”

Ignoring the holo pickup now, he turned to Zestus, ”Gather the squadrons, and make the attacks, but do not waste our resources. If the FO puts up too stiff a resistance, pull back and we will begin preparations to depart.” Turning again, he faced the Captain of the Nebula, and by another channel, the Captain of the Resurgent. ”Resurgent, you know that class of ships well, send schematics to the fighters for better precision and then both of you load torpedoes to pepper the shields as the fighters attack. But, as with the fighters, do not use up all our resources as I am certain we will need them when we return home.”

He turned one last time and resumed his stance, gazing out of the viewscreen. ”Make it happen, people, now.”

---

Hunger smiled thinly as he listened to Iudex, the Faleen had a plan, outrageous as it sounded but it had potential even though he could sense the other on the razor’s edge of violence, worry that he would leap and feed on him at less than a moment’s notice. But they had to do something, and he needed to feed even more. Before he could respond, the Chiss Sith spoke.

His head cocked to the side as he listened to the other speak, granting them as minimal aid as he was willing. The Chiss had told him before that this was not his fight but that he was doing so because of what had transpired as he, Hate, and the Chiss had spoken. ’So be it, minimal aid is still aid.’ he thought.

Turning his gaze toward the stalking Faleen, ”Can you operate this ship within those parameters?” he asked, the tone implying that if the other could not, then there would be only one of them making the maneuver and taking out the SDs.

--

Iudex wordlessly listened along to Sabel's response as he began pacing before the viewport once more. Minimal aid, minimal resources, minimal allies. No matter how he looked at it, this was a bad hand. It was so terrible, only the truly desperate would hold onto it. Folding would be safer of course. Live to fight another day and all.

The battle outside the viewport raged on, as more and more vessels on both sides violently erupted into flames. Iudex crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze hardening as these collective new deaths washed over him through the force. There would be no folding this time. He was all out of chips, with nothing else to fund the next round.

All in, He thought wearily, walking past Hunger to retake the Helm. "The stern typically has the largest blind spots." He stated in response to Hunger's question, strapping himself tightly into the seat. "Once the shields are down, we insert whatever way we can." The Bridge's lighting slowly dimmed, as power began transferring away from secondary and tertiary systems into the engines and shields, all under Iudex's watchful eye.

"There's a non-zero chance that this ship's former crew warned the rest of their fleet. I would say be prepared for extra resistance, but, First Order officers have all the same bad qualities as their predecessors, namely arrogance. I'd bet they began ignoring the Heritage Council fleets as soon as the battle began."

Iudex paused, a thought jumping to mind. The First Order was far more likely to protect it's own compared to the Hapan. An opportunity which could very well be exploited, if played carefully. He glanced wearily at Hunger. What amount of planning could survive 'that' though?

He shook his head, focusing on the task at hand. Iudex tapped at his console, diverting more power away from nonessential systems into the engines. A second passed, then a second and third, before he finally began feeling the effects of his efforts. The ship, limping as it may be, had begun to move.

"These Star Destroyer's won't be as automated as our ship. Leave the Bridge crew alive, otherwise all we'll have is a useless metal box rather than a warship.."

Zestus pouted as he strode to his fighter, the TIE Advanced v1 that the Inquisitors had once favoured, and he remembered his time, growing up on the colony in the Unknown Regions, swearing loyalty to the Empire, and late Lord Sabel. He knew his pride at being picked for the Royal Guard to this day; his zealous belief in the Imperial way, in the conquest of these untamed reaches.

But he also remembered being tossed around a room by the Chiss Admiral...

And that they were here, expending munitions and lives and resources for a Sith group against an Imperial one.

As such, Zestus decided as he suited up, he would be the reluctant hero today.

Gunning his fighter, he immediately corralled the fighters as the Resurgent and Nebula fired upon the First Order Star Destroyers - they could merely distract and temper the shields of the three sister ships to the Resurgent, but that allowed Zestus to focus fire, supported by the captain of the Nebula, in punching through to hit shield generators as First Order guns and TIEs nipped at them.

In short order, one Destroyer - the one closest to the Beta-class cruiser - had its shields stripped, at a cost of a third of their fighters... and more than half of what they had left were lost knocking out the shields of the second one. By the time he reached the third Destroyer, the Resurgent and Nebula shifted focus to the last one, giving Zestus' ships more support, even as the Nebula screened the Resurgent from counter-assault by the more-numerous First Order fighter craft.

The First Order didn't change their strategy as their ships failed, simply dedicating to smothering the Resurgent in massed fire, while lobbing long-range barrages at the Star Home -

The Resurgent's shields fell at the same time as the last Star Destroyer's defenses -

By which point Zestus was one of the few pilots left.

He keyed his hyperdrive, and vanished into hyperspace, leaving the others to the Battle of Hapes and their long, long odds.

Sabel had been observing the course of the attacks, watching as the fighters were depleted. He knew he was overusing resources but he had told Hunger that he would do so. Updates reached his ear every moment, even as he watched and as the shields began to fail on the Resurgent, he had already passed on orders. They were in the process of being followed as the shields failed on the last First Order craft as well as on the Resurgent. A small nod at Zestus’s departure, feeling his presence gone, for now his head turned, his red eyes blazing as he took in the Nebula’s Captain.

”Now.” he commanded.

The starscape blurred for a moment and then cleared, the Resurgent and the Nebula now out past the inner jump points, deeper out system, well above the ecliptic. From the vantage, he could see the battle, witness as the Beta cruiser began it’s run. Reaching out in the Force he sent a message to Hunger, ’I have done my part, do yours or I depart. You, alone, are welcome to join me, even as a visitor.’ A coded message was likewise sent to Hunger, on his personal comm, coordinates of a rendezvous location.

-----

Hunger smiled thinly as Iudex spoke, the edge of violence was still there in the other, but he was getting the cruiser moving. And then he saw the two capital craft at Sabel’s disposal disappear out of the conflict zone. He frowned for a moment but then he felt the thought from the other and nodded. And then his pad vibrated but, for now checking it was unnecessary.

Glancing at the Faleen, “Get me close enough to the SD and I’ll take the first. Just tell me which side of this side it will be on when you get there.” he nearly growled as he sealed up his helmet once more, checking integrity. A final nod to Iudex, and he headed to the corridor, waiting for the communique from the Faleen.

--

"Tsk." Iudex grimaced as he watched the Nebula and the Resurgent jump away to safety, leaving the three target First Order Star Destroyers shieldless, and for the taking. All three, all at once. He shook his head in disbelief, increasing the speed of their cruiser. He had wanted to take down a Star Destroyer one at a time. Not all three.

Now they were functionally alone. Against three Star Destroyers.

"We'll go in sequence! The closest Star Destroyer will be 'Adam'. That'll be your target. I'm going for the second, 'Boy'!" Iudex called out, diverting power to the forward shields. Any weapon they had he set to auto-fire. The point defense weapons would be practically useless, but they may knock out a fighter or two if they were lucky.

If.

"Take the starboard airlock, I'll get you as close as I can! I'm gonna try and take 'Boy' intact. Spirits know we could use the firepower!" He gritted his teeth, ignoring the deafening screeching of metal against metal as the engines behind finally reached their top acceleration. Their cruiser had taken enough damage as it were. There was no point worrying about silly things like "safety protocols" or "stress tolerance". They were far past that.

The Cruiser continued to pick up speed, it's heading never faltering towards the direct stern of the Star Destroyer labeled as 'Adam'. The remaining TIE wings had spotted them, and began their dive to intercept. Iudex continued his straight path. As soon as they broke passed along the engines, he would take the Cruiser up through the Star Destoyer's so-called cityscape. If he timed it right, he may just be able to dock with one of the many hangar bays which dotted the cityscape inside.

The Bridge shook violently, the first salvo from the TIE fighter's nearly stripping the Cruiser's shields in the first go. "Hunger! Thirty seconds! I can't stop! Jump! The Momentum will get you inside!" Iudex yelled, a near manic grin plastered across his face. He had no idea how he was going to make it to the second SD, let alone a third. But he could at least get one. One would be good enough.

Alarm klaxons exploded across the Cruiser, as the remainder of their shields were finally stripped away in a blinding flurry of laser bolts.

It was now or never..

The Starsprite tore along the target Star Destroyers hull, giving Bernael ample time to jump, before it rebounded off and it's hyperspace malfunction, propelling the Beta-class cruiser forward at no small percentage of lightspeed off the ship and caroming towards and then into the second. It was clear however that their angle was no longer controlled - Iudex had minimal control, and most of the hull had been stripped off - he was essentially being aimed towards the second Star Destroyers hangar without any choice in the matter -

But aboard the first Star Destroyer there was all manner of confusion and a certainty that they would succeed, even at the expense of their lives. Imperial fatalism defined, but they blew apart another Helinith Battle Dragon, even as the Star Home desperately took down a Galney Battle Dragon - but it was not going to be enough.

All that could be said was that the three Star Destroyers were imperilled, the third having been subjected to a last minute barrage from the Resurgent and Nebula before they jumped, which had mostly disabled it. As long as Bernael succeeded - and Iudex survived and succeeded - the two Star Destroyers would be unable to fire their last barrage and finish off Helinith's last Battle Dragons -

But one could say with a degree of certainty there was very little aboard either First Order ship to combat the Sith...

... and Iudex had a moment of luck - the second Star Destroyer activated a tractor beam to try and slow him, and although it failed, the reduction in speed was sufficient that the Starsprite ramming the hangar bay would merely rip at most of what was left of the outer hull, rather than both ships exploding in what would have been known as the Holdo Manoeuvre in nearly thirty years time.

Hunger smiled thinly at the warning and statement from Iudex, over the comm. He darted through the corridor to the starboard airlock. He reached it in a matter of seconds, The inner airlock door cycled shut and he was waiting for the air to evacuate as he heard the second announcement from the Faleen. A second later the alarm sounded and his suit tightened as the outer hatch opened. He could see the battle raging and smiled again, at least 88,000 souls aboard a Resurgent and he only had to let the bridge crew survive.

Leaning out he could see the stern of the SD rapidly approaching and, in a small lull in the nearby activity, he leaped, letting the momentum imparted from the Starsprite continue to carry him forward even as his leap carried him closer and closer to the SD, that Iudex had called ‘Adam’. The momentum carried him rapidly across the short distance between the two craft, even as the Starsprite continued it’s flight toward the second SD.

He curled as he approached the SD, rotating so his feet were facing it. His bent knees took most of the shock as he began to skid back down the hull. Touching a stud on his suit, he felt his boots skid as the magnetic heels tried to clamp down at the speed he was sliding. They finally found purchase and he made his way through the various superstructures of the outer hull until he found a maintenance hatch.

His talons ripped the access panel to the exterior controls to the hatch off of the armor and brought his wristpad close to the access port. A small spike emerged and it crunched in, unlocking the panel. He kept an eye on his breathable air supply as it overrode the panel before the panel finally lit up. A couple taps and the hatch opened. Removing his pad from the panel, he stepped inside, one saber leaping into his main hand. His Hunger rose and he could feel it beginning to spread out, ready to consume as many souls as possible as he reached for the pad to open the inner hatch as the outer closed.

--

Hunger was away, and the Starsprite's course could no longer be altered. Not that it could be even if Iudex had wanted to. Gravity would do the rest. Gravity and luck.

Rising from his seat, Iudex retreated from the Bridge, skulking back towards the centralized cargo hold. He was finished with the bridge, remaining there was more of a hassle than the view it provided was worth. Besides, he figured he would know when he had arrived inside the Star Destroyer's hangar.

Iudex slipped inside the cargo bay, sealing the heavy durasteel door shut behind him as he entered. A bitter smile grew on his face as Iudex eased himself down into a seated position in the center of the room. He had done something similar before, ages ago, when he had fallen through the skies of Kesh into the company of Darth Insipid.

With outstretched hands, the cargo containers scattered about the room ripped themselves apart and compressed themselves into metallic sheets, before jumping to cover his body, cocooning the Faleen in a durasteel shell. First came the crates, and when those were used up, large ribbons of flooring knotted themselves around his limbs, anchoring himself into the ground. Spindles of the wall paneling came next, jumping to his seated form, creating a vast spiderweb of hardened steel which riveted him in place. Iudex quietly exhaled, his heart rate slowing to a crawl as the ship violently rattled around him, his destination approaching ever faster.

As before, on Kesh, Iudex would rise from his burning shell a stronger man, poised to strike down his enemies. But, unlike last time, he would find no allies here, no greater goal to work towards.

The Star Destroyer was a target, an obstacle to overcome. Nothing more.

Iudex drew his limbs in close to his chest, tightening the metal cocoon around him. Either way, the pain of an abrupt landing hurt just the same.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @Silvertough, @darthhelinith, @E. L.Knight, @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Ducha Galney
Battle of Hapes

Two Star Destroyers were no longer relevant to the engagement; one had launched into hyperspace, with a baby brother frigate in tow, and another had been rendered inactive by damage - leaving two First Order-aligned ships advancing on what was left of Helinith's flotilla. She only had the Song of War left, the other four Hapan Battle Dragons she had in her task force were gone, blown apart. The floating city Star Home was spitting fire as swiftly as it's cannons could rotate, which the last twenty Battle Dragons of Galney's attacking force were shrugging off as they surrounded and deployed shuttle after shuttle to board the Song of War.

The Galney attackers had removed all the guns of the Song of War, and the gravity mine gambit had slowed events, but not stopped them. In the hangar, shuttles tractored the wreckage of the two downed drop ships free, and this time four shuttles held position outside the hangar and launched a stream of eighty Jettroopers, most of which made it to the hangar and began to bury men and women who had came to support Morrigan and Renn in blaster fire. Most were dead, and the two of them would have a hard time surviving that wave - which was bolstered by another two shuttles, ready to drop another forty Stormtroopers into the hangar -

Each First Order Star Destroyer had a boarder, of course. One had Bernael, in his pained, weakened form - indeed, his level of injury was increasing as his psyche was damaged more and more and more by something outside him - and while his body might recover from the trauma physically by obtaining nourishment from whatever crewmember he encountered. The other had Iudex, who, while in a more physically wounded state, was by and large simply covered in bruises and cuts rather than anything serious - but there were a lot of them.

The two ships had several things in common.

First, their shields were completely compromised, of course. Their crews were also flat-out focused upon the engagement, on clearing whatever mine managed to notice them, or swatting the last of Helinith's fighter craft. This peril amounted to the second thing; that they were quite occupied. They just needed to hold out until the engagement was over; the battle outside the minefield had devolved into a senseless brawl, and nobody was winning it. It was also dying down, as more broken Battle Dragons existed than functional at this stage. As soon as Galney declared victory, both sides would cease firing, and the business of dividing the Hapan Consortium would begin.

The third point was that they were ill-prepared for Sith boarding; their troops had been shifted to Galney's flotilla at a discrete rendezvous before the Destroyers had joined the main fleet. Those troops were even now holding aboard shuttles orbiting the Song of War, ready to complete the boarding. They were antagonising the Hapan Battle Dragon's hull, opening dozens of openings, boarding through other apertures.

Each First Order Star Destroyer carried eight thousand Stormtroopers.

Twenty-four thousand Stormtroopers were in varying states of deployment to board Helinith's flagship.

It wasn't just the main hangar now; they were cutting new ways in, from the underside, the main central pillar structure; the upper disc too, with a shuttle now sitting upon the emergency hatch above Helinith's head.

It was over.

They'd devastated the Heritage armada, which had, on arrival had two more Resurgent-class Star Destroyers and twenty-five Hapan Battle Dragons more than Helinith, let alone the complete sabotage of the loyalist command structure and of course Aurra Sing - not even to count the sheer threat of Abeloth, running her own agenda through the tumult and removing Hades and Soliloquy from the equation. But even then, the Sith had beaten almost all of that, discovered Ducha Galney's treachery just in time, and bloodied the Heritage fleet almost to the point of a stalemate - for the loss of Manticore and indeed another death for Serapis.

They had done their fallen Dark Lord proud.

Darth Insipid could rest in peace knowing they had done their very best.

But they would still probably all die in the next few minutes.

And then.

The guns of the Royal Palace open fired.

This far in, Ducha Galney was overconfident.

Her forces had focused their defences into shields facing the Star Home; she had decided to take the fortress and so was allowing it to fire upon her twenty remaining Battle Dragons ineffectually. Her first announcement to Hapes would be with Darth Helinith tied in a beskar box that she had purchased from Mandalore for the occasion, from the so-called Round Room, sitting on the throne that had once belonged to Darth Insipid.

As such.

Their shields were not focused towards the planet.

To say that the actions of Serapis tipped the scales would be an understatement.

The actions of Helinith, Renn, Soliloquy, Hades, Morrigan, Bernael, Serapis, and of course Manticore had pushed them back a micron at a time.

But now.

They finally fell the Sith way.

The turbolaser blasts ripped into the undersides of the Galney flotilla, shredding them, exploding half a dozen Dragons in the first moment, and another a handful of seconds later. The survivors had long enough to realise their folly and shift shields, and the Star Home ripped into those - in a moment, there was but one Battle Dragon remaining - which had, in hindsight, been nestled in the centre of the Galney deployment for the whole time.

Ducha Galney's flagship.

She was on the comms, sounding desperate as she shifted her Hapan Battle Dragon between the Star Home and the planet, using all her available power to defend herself - even repeating Helinith's move to deploy gravity mines between her ship and the Star Home out of desperation.

"This is Ducha Galney!" She cried out, desperately addressing everyone on all channels.

"I order all Imperial assets to redouble their efforts to kill the Sith! I care no longer for their capture and humiliation - just kill them all!"

For that moment, Morrigan, Bernael, Helinith, Iudex and Renn, they only had the Imperials left to finish off.

It could be said to be nothing more than mopping up now.

The crew of the Song of War redoubled their efforts. They had heard Ducha Galney; they knew she was finished. Helinith's bridge crew were resisting as Stormtroopers fought their way into the bridge from the emergency access just outside - she had time to respond, and speak to her people. Because, unless there was a terrible twist, the Sith had won - Helinith was about to be crowned as Queen Mother.

With fifteen minutes until her coronation remaining.

Lady Galney, whose sister had caused all this strife, was firing at Stormtroopers notwithstanding that fact, and nodded a grime-matted face at her monarch and fired again -

Iudex was wrapped in his cocoon of Force and metal as alarms blared out -

Bernael was filled with the knowledge that there were many, many prey present -

Renn and Morrigan were faced with the massed Jet-troopers followed by two shuttles, of course -

TAG: @darthhelinith, @DarthIshyZ, @darthbernael, @Silvertough
---
In the Royal Palace, Comms

The techs were cheered as the palace guns ripped apart Galney's flotilla, as if they had not delayed the battle whatsoever; as if Astarta had not decapitated Harres in-front of them; as if Aurra Sing had not just been beaten to a pulp by their General. They were all traitors, who had sat on the fence rather than dedicate to Darth Helinith.

There was mopping up to do, yes, in orbit, and the Palace anti-starfighter guns were busy ripping apart panicked shuttles that had been dropping to the surface, but the engagement was won, if not over. An orderly dutifully supplied a datapad showing Serapis the events on-going with Soliloquy, Hades, Shimmer and Abeloth, and also the incarceration of Aurra in the dungeons again. It was almost over; his decision to take Astarta had been a key one, that much was clear.

There was a voice, though; a male one, in his mind - his former body, it had carried a slither to Astarta...

And there was Astarta, too, resisting beneath his thought patterns -

And even then, there was a digital undercurrent to it all, the Serapis AI that had been essential to the rebuilding of his psyche.

It seemed that Serapis was carrying along with him bits and pieces of other people, and notwithstanding how much better he was getting at Essence Transfer, having been self-taught, there was quite a bit being carried. A moment of self-examination, or perhaps the techs could be subject to the same treatment of Harres, or he could even head to Soliloquy and Hades, or even Aurra, of course. Serapis had more choices than all of them.

TAG: @DarthIshyZ
---
Royal Palace, damaged wing

The moment of tension finally tipped one side.

There was a shrill, nerve-splitting scream, and the body that Hades had trimmed the arms from, and that Soliloquy had pinned down, returned to the beautiful, but waxen, features of the woman that had died by Abeloth's hands; the avatar that had lain with Hades and Morrigan days ago now. So too did the shadow leech from Shimmer, who gasped as if she hadn't taken a breath for some time.

The spectre of Shimmer's death; it had been a lie delivered to Soliloquy.

A lie that the Voice had taken advantage of?

Perhaps.

But if he believed Shimmer would die... did it matter? Hadn't he needed the help?

To defeat a Lie one believes is Truth, well, that is what one often needs help with.

Indeed, Hades would feel her influence leave him, as a shadow that had limned his every move and action-to-date. He would feel as if a power source had been cut from him, as if part of himself had departed... as if his confidence had been borrowed, and all he had achieved was a lie.

Was that a lie?

Some last minute strike that Abeloth had granted upon his psyche?

A revenge, an imprint of a thought upon him?

Could he have beaten the admittedly already-bloodied Darth Insipid without her within him, on some level, back at the start of the War of Three?

Who know.

But the moment, the pain, the exhaustion, the horror that had been pressed upon them... it was over.

Soliloquy had a name that had been carried to him... and the absolute knowledge that this Abeloth had been a fabrication; a memory that had grown sentient and taken flight from it's source... perhaps even a divergent personality...

Hades... he had questions, when before he had only resolve...

But both would feel the wash of certain victory crash upon them.

The battle was won, though it was not yet over...

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @E. L.Knight
---
IC: Zelmar
Coruscant, a Time ago

They finally reached what had been sought; an obviously Sith doorway, inlaid with all manner of arcane text and word, as it chiselled into living stone. A secret entrance to a secret Temple deep, deep, deep beneath the Jedi Temple; what it had been originally built over. A fountain in the Force was enclosed within the Temple walls, yes, but that foundation had darker, Older origins; a breach caused by Sith many, many millennia ago.

Zelmar knew this from the Holocron of Darth Gorog, from many years ago on Sarafur, a world in the distant Moddell Sector, better known locally as Kuna's Tail. What many people forgot about the Gods of the Sith is that they were Sith; and Sith compete, fight, and destroy each other. Their Gods are no different... it just took Zelmar meeting a Sith God to realise it.

So when Darth Gorog told him of ancient wars between the Celestials and Architects, between the Protectors and Destructors, between the Firstborn and Old Ones, he took it as dramatized fairy tail lore, and so merely made notes of the graphic tale that he was told, and focused upon what was relevant to him. But now, with hindsight, he could tell that many ancient legacies existed and had been hidden... and so he'd visited them since the End of Time.

And here was one place so mentioned in the old Holocron.

Pushing aside Azathoth as he came down the last steps, he sent a coruscating storm of lightning up the staircase, and were his apprentice to see his face he wold have seen Zelmar pale and grow thin from the exertion. The horde of creatures screeched and burned and fled, and rolling down the steps came Zelmar's lightsaber hilt, smoking but still functional.

"We don't have much time, come, the door - it needs two Sith, as the ancient Rule so defines -"

His words were unanswered, and Zelmar glanced to Azathoth, whose eyes were glassy. "Oh shavit."

The swearing, Azathoth would hear it, yes, but he wasn't able to respond. He was focused on his crystal, making it bleed red. The crystal had struck back, revealing the truth; the story of the owner of the crystal... a woman, the daughter of an Emperor who had dedicated to the light - her name had been Marasiah Fel, and her father, Roan Fel - Emperor Fel III. Twenty years ago, Roan had led the Empire in a civil war against those loyal to the Sith. He'd won that war, at the expense of his soul, for a dark stain had emerged upon it and the Emperor had tried to use a heinous bioweapon upon Coruscant - and kill a trillion people just to stop the Sith.

Marasiah's lover, Antares, he had stopped her father, killing him, and she had risen to become Empress, and dedicated the Empire to a triumvirate government with the Galactic Alliance and Jedi. But though grateful to Antares... she could not help but resent him for killing her father, and eventually found solace with another man by the name of Aryan Graul. It had taken time, but for a while, the galaxy had been peaceful after the Sith defeat, and she had an affair with Graul, a conniving politician who often loved, and often cast aside that love for political power...

Darth Insipid and his Sith emerged from the Unknown Regions and eventually took Coruscant, hanging Marasiah's body above their celebration table. Her last thought was of her husband, and not of Aryan, who she had loved after a fashion, but never as truly of that of the man she turned aside from. But her crystal - it remembered her, and it spoke of her fortitude, of her strength, and of her legacy. That Azathoth could be that man.

A vision; of him in crimson armour, wielding the blade of Empress Fel IV and reunifying the survivors of the galaxy to fight back against the God of the Sith. That he could use her weapon as that rallying call.

Be the hero.

Zelmar seethed.

"Apprentice!"

TAG: @Shadowsun
---
IC: Supreme Leader Snoke
Voice, from afar

WHERE ARE YOU!

Snoke's words hammered into Cocytus as if a hammer to his forehead. Even across incredible distances, his snarled words were incredibly potent, and Cocytus would suffer for it.

You were supposed to be at Hapes, killing your former comrades while the nobles led an invasion. Instead the Sith have retaken control of the Palace guns and turned them on my ships. I have had to rely upon a Force-using bounty hunter and some schizophrenic spirit to keep the Sith divided and it's not working! Head to Hapes immediately or I shall send forces after you!

What kind of Baneite apprentice are you?

Their battered ship was escorted to the Home One, the X-wings peeling off when the tractor beam took control of the ship. Styx was tense, and determined, refusing to let down her Master, but when they landed and she could see Taun We in the hangar besides a full security team of eight blue-attired New Republic soldiers, Luke Skywalker, and Admiral Ackbar. There were a dozen X-wings in the hangar in varying states of readiness; this was a warship, after all.

It was quite the display.

Styx's heart sank.

TAG: @Darth Cocytus

 

OOC: Oh what a combo with @Sinrebirth

IC Hunger
First Order Resurgent-Class SD ‘Adam’

As Hunger touched the stud to open the inner airlock, the waves of pain returned deeper and more bone searing than they had before. Another of the shards of godly fragments was being cut off. He had inadvertently tied them deeper to himself than he’d planned, but at the time, he needed their energy to heal. So he’d fed from them, in a way, before several had departed. A roar escaped his lips, and he could feel the corridor walls bowing from the strength of it.

His senses ranged out and, even at half strength or perhaps slightly less, he could feel the weight of energy aboard the vessel, the sheer depth of souls that he could consume. A moment passed as his mind worked, considering his path, his Hunger beginning to spread out, filling the ship. A satisfied grin passed his face as he heard screams and bodies falling to the deck in rooms around him, their energy flowing back into him.

Stepping out of the airlock, he settled his saber back on his belt. The pain, the anger, the hunger demanded one thing, not instant deaths from a weapon, but the terror, the pain of him ripping the living souls from the bodies. In the middle distance he could hear movement, people approaching, at a dead run. Slowly pacing forward he felt, saw, the flashes of lives, petty, small lives, in service to the First Order, now filling the reservoir of his mind. The occasional human that stumbled out into the corridor ahead of him, as he approached those troops he was sure were coming to attempt to stop him, was dragged to him in the Force, skull ripped open, brains plucked out and devoured, soul drained, even as they screamed and thrashed.

Passing what appeared to be a command terminal, enough sense of mind sent up a thought to the feral portion. He stopped his relentless pacing, placed the spike of his wristpad against the terminal’s port and smiled as warning lights began to flash in the corridor, and a voice called out…

Escape Pods and Hangar Bay Exits locked down, self destruct locked out of the system, on Supreme Leader’s personal code authority.

His grim smile returned as he removed the spike, then his howl of pain reverberated once more. Reaching out, using up several of the souls he’d already taken, he touched every mind on board, ’Death and nothingness comes for you, nothing can stop that.’ hissing the thought into their very subconsciousnesses.

Yes, that was very much the Supreme Leaders style. A spike of fear emerged from the ship’s crew, and Bernael's skin would roil with movement as if animated, a pressure building upon his chest cavity; as if everything he consumed was not sustaining the Anzati, but something... else. Indeed, he would feel as if he was being hollowed out, his heart beating hard as if the pain was desperate to get out OUT OUT O U T!

Whatever was happening to him here, and now, it was a twist of flesh and soul, a rumbling upon his soul.

Apoptosis, my child​

It wasn't ending, it was just getting harder, and harder, and sharper -

There was a gathering of life forms in the room over; they were coordinating. But there was an air of fatalism to it all, as if they knew, they anticipated their deaths -

Six Riot Troopers, equipped with batons and shields, prepared -

Another roar escaped his lips, the pain, the hunger, reverberating in the air. In that instance, even as he absorbed the souls into him he could feel them slipping through his grasp. The pain roared through him, igniting his power further, his hunger becoming all consuming, concern for the others in the Order disappearing, only the pain, the hunger fueling and driving him. His senses drove through the ship and a death’s head smile crossed his face as he felt the attitudes of the troops in the next room.

He strode up to the door and, even in his reduced state, the door blew from it’s hinges before his hands even reached it. Talons snapped out and he flashed through the door, care for burning himself out gone. He tore into the room, one arm ripping toward the nearest Riot Trooper, the shield like paper in his incandescence of hunger. Spinning after the first strike, he lashed out at the next, the talons of that foot extended through the boots he wore, reaching to rip the throat from the man.

Foot dropping after the strike, he crouched, anticipating the strikes from the batons he saw, preparing to spring further into the room.

The blood beads and broken bones and battered bodies flew up into the air, creating a tableau in the air as it froze, as if the moment was both over and began hanging in between the two in an eternal, perpetual, twilight. In that quiet, there stood a single figure, a cloaked one, his face hidden, his bare feet visible beneath the robes as he padded forward, black-blood dripping down his flesh, puddling as he strode.

Epitaphs, Epitaphs, Epitaphs. All this obsession over Echoes, Echoes, Echoes.
​

The moment ended, and the bodies dropped to the floor.

The vision was gone... but his bloody footprints remained.

Then the trap was sprung; the bulkhead vented, and vacuum tugged hard upon Bernael, intending to suck him into the void -

Hunger growled at the vision, ”You….I will find you and end you for this..”

And then a laugh, almost mad in it’s tone, sounded. The vacuum tugged, and in his madness he didn’t notice right away, flying from his feet, just as the Riot Troopers were blasted out of the bulkhead. It took him almost the length of time to cross the room with the pull before he came to his senses and engaged the magnets on his boots. Pulling his legs against the tug, he managed to get them to connect with the wall next to the opening in the bulkhead, leaving him standing almost sideways, out from the wall. A growl sounded as he reached out, ripping sections of flooring away to block the gaping hole enough that he could step onto the exposed girders of the floor.

Long moments passed as he fought the tug, as it slowly reduced, with the hatch closed, step after hesitant step toward that hatch. He reached it, pressing himself against the wall and opened the hatch. The vacuum’s pull increased to a roar, with more atmosphere to pull at and he fought it’s tug, sliding his boots so they pulled him out of the hatch. Even more minutes passed, wearing him down even more, the pain almost a searing, overwhelming feeling, until he could sag against the hatch after it closed.

Reaching out with his hunger he tried to feed, feeling the souls as they were absorbed but, yet again, they seemed to pass through, somewhere else and he cursed the Master once more. His anger rose, twining with the pain and he released the magnets, charging down the corridor, trying to find his way to the bridge, sucking the life from everything else that lived on this ship as he went, trying desperately to ease the pain, to fill the gnawing void that his body needed to fill.

There was a chuckle; soft, dry, callous.

He continued to gnaw, to gnaw, to gnaw, and perhaps saw the end of Hunger.

It consumed, and consumed, and eventually ate the host.

The bulkheads gave way to darkened corridors, and to a dark, Dark, Dark, DARK room.

There were no stars, no shadows, no rhythms.

Did you never wonder what else I could be?​

The chuckle was deep, Deep, Deep, DEEP...

You never once thought...

With all I have done...

All I have wrought...​

The voice was not in his head... it was...

Everywhere​

The black dropped as a blaster bolt ripped into his gut - waking him from the moment. It was a young man, barely trained, in an officer's uniform. He was shaking, as if he could not believe he had shot the Anzati successfully.

Hunger attempted to reign in the unending hunger he’d received but found himself unable to do so, it resisted his will, continued it’s quest to feed, even as none of the energy fed into himself directly, but went….elsewhere. The voice made him growl but unless he could feed, could survive, he could not face the Master, destroy him and end the cycle.

And then his senses returned, folding on himself for a moment, mere physical pain ripping through him. His eyes lifted, dripping darkness from their orbs, and took in the shaking form before him. A gasp passed his lips, blood dripping slightly, ”That was….stupid.” he managed to get out around the pain, the anger, the hunger.

If feeding caused such pain did not sustain him then he’d have to resort to mere destruction. Rushing forward, his talons ripped into the man’s shoulders, lifting him from his feet, and slamming him into the corridor wall. His hunger wasn’t feeding him and he had to try to fight without feeding, to keep whatever it was receiving the energy from acquiring more. His snarling face pressed closely to the man, ”Brave but foolish, little man, facing me. I am become Death, destroyer of worlds.”

Fighting the hunger itself as much as the struggling man in his grasp, one hand retracted his talons then grasped the man’s wrist on that side, a cold smile on his face as he pulled, the shrieks and gasps as the shoulder first strained, then slowly began pulling the arm away from the body. Blood spurted from the wound as he tossed the arm down the corridor. Slamming those talons back into the remains of the shoulder he paused, breathing heavily, before repeating the process with the remaining arm.

Somewhere in the process the man passed out, which only drove his anger on. Dropping his arm he grabbed a leg, and even as the deep, gnawing pain returned he started beating the body against the flooring. And then he was cheated, even as he felt the life starting to slip from the body, the hunger flared and consumed the man. A deep, reverberating roar escaped his lips and he tossed the, now, lifeless body down the hallway, ”Why?!?” he screamed.

The voice rumbled, and rumbled, and rumbled.

Why why why​

There was a deep chuckle. There were more dead than the Anzati could of course account for; lashes of psychic pain had manifested as Force crushes, rips, and twists. Parts of the ship, humans - whatever happened to be in the line of fire.

You chose to play the game, didn't you? Did you not think you could lose?​

Bernael would stumble into the bridge. The entire crew had tipped consoles and chairs, piled them up to make a barricade either side of the open doors and more to create cover. Interspersed among the officers were Stormtroopers, carrying heavy rail-guns and flamethrowers, and they threw the lot of it at him -

Did you not think I played too?​

There was so much fire hurled at that entrance - the doors slammed shut behind him, trapping Bernael -

The pain, the hunger, the anger, all that was left in Hunger to drive him on. At the final words, at the door slamming and the flames beginning, he roared out ”I may lose but I will still kill you, Wapoe, Master, whatever you call yourself!!!!” It mattered little that what he said could possibly confuse those before him.

Racing into the onrushing flames, he closed the distance, burning through energy that even now he couldn’t believe he had, truly he didn’t but was converting the pain to energy, using what was being done to him to try to push through. His cloak burned away, his clothes began to char and burn in sections, his hair burned away. He was a wraith in the flames, the nerve endings burned away before they could even transmit pain signals.

And then he leaped, feeling the blasts and rail gun pellets peppering him as he landed, then fell back against the bulkhead atop the barricade. Growling deeply, he pushed through, swaying to avoid the fire as much as possible, then leaped again, a flaming wraith that crossed over the flamethrower armed troops and landed in the midst of the officer and troops behind them.

Cauterised nerve endings gave way to the flesh of his muscles bubbling away, and the hunger deepened, Deepened, Deepened, Deepened! He was all-but the walking dead, having exerted himself beyond life, beyond feeding, beyond breathing. That didn't mean he couldn't kill, but the slither of Bernael that remained was animating something that was falling apart.

Whoever said Wapoe was me?​

Beyond the bridge crew, which panicked, bleating their emotions into the Force, there was a yawing emptiness in the Destroyer's cavernous hull; death. Everyone else was dead. They were death, and death was them. How or when he had slaughtered them all, one could not say, because perhaps it had not even been him, now.

It was all but over, in more ways than one.

Who else could he be?

Who else could I be?​

Black was creeping into the edges of Bernael's vision as the last dozen crew members swung pistols, flamethrowers, rail guns at him, desperate to get a clear shot -

What was left of Bernael tried to ponder the words being spoken to him but his mind, his will, was wrapped up in keeping himself going, only able to spare a few thoughts, ’Wapoe...no...Uzuriel would not….Father?!?’ drifted from his mind.

It mattered quite little now, the ship was a charnelhouse now, the only living beings still aboard, trying desperately to kill or hope they could kill the apparition that stalked toward him. Flames rolled over his body, charring the remaining skin. Slugs passed cleanly, and sometimes not so cleanly, through the sloughing skin and muscle beneath. Bolts from the railguns tore into him and still he came on. All that was left was destruction, even the request from Iudex was lost in his need to feed, to survive, to finish this, end the pain, end the hunger.

As his vision darkened even more, what was left of his senses brought his lurching, hideous form on toward the remaining crew. And then he was among them, talons lashing out, impossibly fast, especially as most of the muscles that should have animated the limbs were either gone or torn through. Will alone was making whatever the creature was that attacked the crew now.

Bernael was now just a kernel of being, spread out throughout the form that had been his body, moving it along to end this immediate physical torment, to be able to deal with the mental and distant, imposed pain, the hunger that was taking all his energy from him. He roared, the sound of it oddly modulated as the vocal chords seemed mostly worn away.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @Silvertough, @darthhelinith, @E. L.Knight, @Mitth_Fisto

 

OOC: Combo with @E. L.Knight and @Sinrebirth

IC Renn and Morrigan
Clearing the Hangar, Song of War

The fur and skin of the gorillon thickened as troops poured into the hangar from the exit, Renn recognizing that he’d need more to be able to get through this situation. A quick glance left and right told him his current troops would be less than able to defend or repel the boarders. And then those same boarders took to the air, bringing a snarl to his lips.

Stepping backward he scanned through those of his troops still on their feet, as well as the dead. Sadly, none of them seemed to have had the forethought to bring along heavy weapons so he had to improvise. With a grunt and exertion in the Force, he reached out, flipping the two shuttles that had made it onboard in the first wave, into the hovering troops. His sabers ignited and swung back and forth, blocking blaster bolts around the hangar, a few making it through, bringing even more small rivulets of ‘blood’, and singed fur.

Backing toward the entrance to the hangar, he kept his gaze roving. Anything that could be thrown was lifted by his second set of arms and tossed at seemingly random arcs, trying to intercept as many of the flying troops as possible, as he continued his retreat. He yelled out to Morrigan as he did so, ”Fall back, make them come into the corridor where their flying and large numbers will be at more of a disadvantage.”

Morrigan understood exactly what the shapeshifter wanted. She moved in a crouch firing at the troops in front of her as she backed up quickly. She's shifted her focus to fire and their stomachs where the armor was always weakest. As she moved back she then aimed at some of the Jetpacks on the troopers, hoping to create some fireballs for their friends below.

Once in the corridor, she stood and yelled to the shapeshifter. "The Queen said she can vent the area. Let's move back and seal these doors!"

Renn nodded at Morrigan, trying not to waste any more energy than possible from fighting the troops. He shifted quickly, into a sinuous form again and flowed out of the doorway as chunks were blown from his hide, the trooper momentarily having their aims unrestricted. Hissing roars blasted forth from his mouth until he reached the doorway. Shifting back, he stood, half in and out of the room.

His saber in that hand swung back and forth, blocking and deflecting blaster bolts, ”Get over here, Morrigan, I’m out, just need to get the door shut once you’re free.” He concentrated again, yanking more and more loose items with the Force and throwing them at the Jettroopers, distracting them so that she could get free and join him.

There was a sound of blasterfire and screams - behind them, deeper in the ship. A pair of Hapans fell to the ground at the end of the corridor, and three more First Order Stormtroopers turned the corner, even as the survivors in the hangar fell to massed fire -

The Jettroopers were down, finished off by the fire of Morrigan and Renn, but it was getting worse and worse by the minute. They needed to keep moving, or the sheer numbers of troopers would weigh them down. For now, they had local advantage, but it would not last...

Morrigan dashed into the room with Renn just as the three troopers rounded the corner.

She pulled a dead Hapan into the room with them and pulled two thermal detonators from his belt. she activated them and tossed them down the hall and then activated the switch to close the door.

"Please tell me you have a code to seal this door?"

"She moved to a computer panel that had a comms station in it. "Seal that door and then contact your Queen, we need to vent the hangar ASAP!"

Renn stayed close to Morrigan even as the door closed, blocking the few bolts that made it through the gap before the door shut completely. The door suddenly pulled taut against the inner frame, telling him that the hangar had begun to vent to space.

Turning to Morrigan, ”Let us work our way back up to Helinith, clearing those areas we find where they may have punched through the hull. Need to end this so we can get her crowned, settle this coup before it can cause more to think the same.”

He shifted back to the Dark form he’d worn earlier and stalked toward the lift, pausing for a moment as he felt a deep searing pain that seemed to reach out across the system. He tasted the emotion and knew who it was coming from. Turning to Morrigan once more, ”Hurry, this coup may not be the worst thing to happen right now…”

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @E. L.Knight, @greyjedi125, @Silvertough, @darthhelinith, @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Doctor Halsey
The Battle of Hapes Ends

The words of Darth Helinith - the Queen Mother, it was declared - reverberated across the remaining Hapans loyal to Ducha. In a handful of minutes, the guns of her Hapan Battle Dragon fell silent, and her fighters ceased fire - and then began firing upon the First Order transports that were not yet docked, indeed, some of the shuttles upon the Song of War's hull were blown off the capital ship.

She had been right; it was her who had to declare the battle was done.

For the Sith had won, yes, but she was the Queen Mother.

The voice the Hapes Consortium needed to hear.

It was a good thing that Renn and Morrigan had sealed the hangar, because the Hapans blew apart the First Order ships anyway, and indeed, the entire offensive on Helinith's Hapan Battle Dragon petered out and ended. As simple as that; it ended.

The battle had been won, and now, it had ended, with the majority if not all of the Hapan nobles that had rebelled now dead; the loyal nobility sent their Hapan Battle Dragons to reap the spoils, recovering their losses in short order - at very least, their financial and material losses... the loss of Hapan lives was irreplaceable.

In short order, Ducha Galney's head was delivered to the Song of War, and her sister presented it to the three Sith.

Their victory, was done.

But there were casualties; Manticore was gone, and Bernael, well, the Force told them that he was dead... and something had occurred aboard the First Order Star Destroyer that had left it a wreck, it's crew slaughtered, and no body was found or discovered. What had happened, nobody could say. Reports had it that Serapis had been immolated, and was in the medbay, and indeed, Hades was too.

Most of the Sith had been injured at some point, such as Iudex during his crash into the Starsprite, and so, they gathered in the Royal Palace medbay, with Dr Halsey required to nudge all but General Astarta from the medbay, for she was rather too important to nudge along as the highest ranking military officer to have outright supported Darth Helinith.

The Sith had the room to themselves, and they had their knowledge to work through.

Astarta was rather obviously Serapis, any minor Force user could detect that. The fact that his former host was alive, and not in-fact dead, was a cause for him to pause, indeed, and to take stock. But the General's incredible feat of Hapan fencing was being lauded across the Hapes Cluster, because of course footage had somehow leaked. Notwithstanding his demise, he had taken down Aurra Sing, and his command of the guns had saved them.

Soliloquy would be able to ascertain by his absence the identity of the man who owned the memories of Abeloth, Mnngal-Mnngal and so forth - Bernael - and of course the Croke had a new name, which may or may not prove relevant. Both facts were matters for him to disclose to the Queen Mother, or not... let alone the contents of Abeloth herself, which now resided within whatever space the Croke saw fit to store, or consume, the creature. Shimmer, well, she had flashes of her death, and indeed, was fine, and barely managed to not burst into tears at her Masters rare display of emotion. He had saved her.

Hades, well, he would come to with a very curious problem; his connection to the Force had been severed, leaving a man who had been a Force user his life with an incredible revelation. The other Sith would of course be entitled to assume he was merely hiding himself in the Force, and it would be down to him to speak up, or not. He was relatively recently returned to the Sith, after all. Would Morrigan notice, in the middle of their reuniting?

The newest of the Sith, Iudex was returned to the fold as a double-agent, responsible for the discovery of Galney's treachery, and had been cheered by several of the grounds crew when he was recovered from the First Order Star Destroyer - it's crew had fought on despite his offer, despite the odds, despite Soliloquy's mental leanings, and despite being the ship being disabled by the reunified Hapan Royal Navy, and died to the last man out of sheer fear of Supreme Leader Snoke. It did not detract from the fact that his actions had prevented the Destroyer from destroying the Song of War or the Star Home orbital palace, and much like Bernael, he had stemmed the tide until they had won. He was a hero, and indeed, a sex symbol to many Hapans of all genders.

For Helinith, well, she and Renn had to adjust to the sensation that Bernael had in-fact died. Whatever had happened, it was only Death they could feel, and it was unending, filling that spot within them. But there was certainty; Helinith had accepted her position as Queen Mother - it was not just a role now, but hers, not bequeathed by her late Master, but earned, for the display she and her bridge crew had put on, and that Renn and Morrigan had achieved, were legendary feats of resistance and stubbornness worthy of the very founders of the Hapes Cluster.

The seven Sith - Helinith, Renn, Soliloquy, Iudex, Serapis-Astarta, Shimmer, Hades and of course Morrigan - were reunited beside the burnt and unconscious corpse that had been Serapis' previous body, with Dr Halsey excusing herself after she was sure their most obvious wounds were fine. Outside, Lady Galney prevented Rafa from approaching with a new set of dresses and costumes for the Sith.

They had a lot of ground to cover, after all.

They would need a breather, no doubt of that.

TAG: @darthhelinith, @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough, @E. L.Knight, @darthbernael, @DarthIshyZ - super-combo of all of you and myself
---
Hapes, somewhere or other

In a darkened corner of the Royal Palace, taking the form of a lowly Hapan servant, was Ooru, the last of the spirits that had emerged from Bernael in the Round Room days before. Much like Abeloth, Ooru had bided his time, rather than immolate himself upon a Sith blade. He'd managed to take a shape, growing from memory - the memory of the Old Ones that Bernael had, ancient reptilian memories that had been passed since the Sephi were re-shaped a hundred millennia ago in their former timeline - and becoming more than a gnawing remnant, but a full-blown entity.

Of course, Bernael had just been pushed out of his form, a swelling of Death emerging within his Anzati form and removing Bernael...

... which meant he, too, became memory...

... and ended up here, with Ooru.

The gelatinous and monstrous cube-like creature - originally, anyway - settled in the mindspace that had once been it's own.

Bernael would feel that his body had just left; his Father, the one who had shaped the Anzati into existence, the one whose name nobody dare utter, to the point that his name was forgotten - his Father had departed; gone. A small Hapan shuttle, one which had boarded the wreckage of the First Order Star Destroyer to search for survivors, it had been taken and cloaked in the Force and left.

Ooru and Bernael were all that remained, with the simple understanding of one fact, in the middle of their victory.

The God of Death had achieved apoptosis and embraced his Rebirth.

Cold Danda Sine.

Sine's Rebirth.

Where had he gone?

Ooru didn't especially care; he just wanted Bernael out of his vessel.

TAG: @darthbernael (combo)
---
IC: Zelmar
Coruscant, Sith Temple, Depths, the End of Time

The Sith Lord huffed a few times to take back his breath and composure, and indicated the room with a gesture. At his will, conches lit with fire, and illuminated pillars and a sunken arena. There was a circular vestibule in the centre, and Zelmar guided Azathoth forward. "The greatest of the Dark Lords of the Sith made use of this place to perform the most ancient rituals..." He indicated the black waters of the scrying pool.

"... in these waters one can make illusions, peer into the future, and, of course, reach Between..."

He indicated a knife on the side of the pool, and tugged at the leather-gloves on his hands, removing them. "The bond between Master and apprentice is one which reaches across distance, for it is a sacred connection. When a Jedi falls and becomes a Sith, that connection is usually severed, but there are always ways to reconnect those links..."

"Through blood, the darkest of mediums of connection and brotherhood," Zelmar crowed slightly, enjoying the word. Blood magicks were at their heart the most controversial of all techniques, and he had very rarely made use of them himself, "in this case, the connection was not severed by the fall of a student, or," he shuddered visibly, mockingly, "redemption," Zelmar spat, disturbing the black oils in the pool. "But by time itself."

He looked cruel. "My former apprentice I sent across time and reality, via a now closed way," he explained to Azathoth. "I did so on the off-chance that I needed a connection to bridge the divide. I could not trust my former Master," he growled, "nor could I trust my other former apprentices, who would inevitably pursue their own agendas..."So I sent her as a beacon to draw me across when all other ways were sealed."

There was a scream of many voices that echoed through the open space they now stood; Zelmar ignored it.

"We need but one drop, my apprentice... it must be you who takes it from me," he emphasised the point by holding out his palm to the man.

To be bound as Master and Apprentice was to, at some point, trust each other.

It was the lesson of the Temple itself, crafted many millennia before the truth of the Rule of Two was carved upon the Sith with absolutism.

That two was not the only reality which governed the Sith.

It was but one of many, and was not the true state of the Sith... it was merely a necessity.

The Rule of Two had determined the Sith destiny many times over, and it would undoubtedly many times again.

TAG: @Shadowsun, mention only for @darthhelinith
---
IC: Styx
Aboard the Home One, Kamino orbit

Taun We turned aside as Luke personally escorted them to a beskar box deeper within the Home One, with Ackbar leaving with their weapons and the amulet in hand. They were promptly placed in a security box, elsewhere aboard the Mon Calamar Star Cruiser. The eight New Republic soldiers split into two equal groups, one behind, and one in-front, until they reached the security center of the ship, manned by a garrulous looking Quarren officer and a pair of repurposed Imperial security droids.



The Jedi had three of these sarcophagus' none too dissimilar to the infamous Jebble Box that had carried a Sith Lord thousands of years through time. But while that oubliette had kept the Sith conscious, albeit tortured, much like the one which had transported Darth Helinith a century and a half to the future until her Master awoke her, this Mandalorian box simply held the Force user completely in lightsaber proof beskar.

The Empire had bade the Mandalorians recreate the old technology, after the last of it's kind was used to successfully transport Darth Maul from Mandalore - until Ahsoka Tano freed Maul to allow her to escape Order 66; a decision she regretted for much of her life thereafter. With that reconstruction of the vaults to transport Jedi prisoners instead, the New Republic had inherited some and used them to secure Inquisitors, Acolytes of the Beyond, and now, Sith.

Luke smiled softly to Cocytus, even as Snoke continued to leer at him through the Force.

You idiot; you have failed me. You have failed yourself. You will stay in that vault, and I shall ensure it. I will take these sarcophaguses and keep you in my private collection, to never be freed for as long as I live.

The voice acquired a rougher quality, a dripping condescension that was not Snoke's voice at all, for the merest moment.

Styx, who would only slightly hear Snoke as she had not been forced into a bond with him, still frowned.

Luke misinterpreted the frown as that of someone concerned as to the box. "Don't worry," he said. "You'll only be secured as long as this crisis continues, and your trial is being called for early next week on Nakadia. The third box is for this so-called Darth Insipid, which should put an end to the delusion that the Sith can return."

His apprentice again looked at Cocytus, her head swaying. The boxes were large enough to take their height, unhelpfully; the Mandalorians had made them oversized, in-case any Quermian Jedi were captured, for there was known to be at least one Quermian Jedi Master in the old Jedi Order. In that respect, the Empire, and now Luke, had thought of everything.

TAG: @Darth Cocytus (combo), mention only for @darthhelinith
---
IC: Acting Captain Fenton
Aboard the Resurgent, Hapes Cluster edge

The former First Order Star Destroyer fled the seemingly lost Battle of Hapes and arrived at the edge of Hapan space, giving the crew plenty of time to rue on what they had done. Most of them had been former Imperials, terrified of Snoke and the other neo-Imperial leaders, and Sabel offered them survival while the Sith offered only death.

In that respect, it was the only logical decision. They had not moved as swiftly as one would have liked, not in comparison to Zestus, who simply jumped and left the Cluster for the Unknown Regions with some immediacy. He had likely been stopped by the self-same gravity-well mine-field that had caught them, but it was a different matter to navigate a three kilometre Star Destroyer and it's escort frigate - especially a damaged Star Destroyer. Acting Captain Fenton had been the First Officer a few days ago when Manticore and Bernael set off for Rakata space, and indeed a few days before that had been a mere bridge officer under Snoke. His rapid promotions were rattling more than anything, and now he had to decide what to do about Sabel.

Outside the Transistory Mists that surrounded and isolated the Hapes Cluster from the galaxy at large, Sabel could contact the Unknown Regions, though he'd have to do it via his colonies HoloNet receivers, for the galactic communications grid did not reach into the uncharted parts of the galaxy - which was why the Resurgent included it's own tranceiver, allowing Snoke to create a network of contact with his Star Destroyers. It was quite ingenious, and a novel way of setting up mobile academies, command ships and a stable way to stay in touch in one ship.

But the more immediate concern would be the single Mon Calamari Star Cruiser - an MC85 - and an escort of two Corellian bunkerbusters and a Nebulon-C frigate, that was holding at the edge of Hapan space, clearly patrolling the hyperlane between the Hapans and the Core. "This is the Dawn of Tranquillity," came the largest of the four New Republic ships. "Please identify yourselves."

Zestus had ignored their request, but again, a Star Destroyer was considerably more conspicuous.

Acting Captain Fenton held his tongue and allowed Sabel to respond - wherever he was in all this.

TAG: @darthbernael, mention only for @greyjedi125

 

OOC: Combo with @Sinrebirth

IC Bernael And Ooru
One and the same

It was an interesting experience, to say the least, to exist and not to exist at the same time. Bernael could sense all the life around him, sense the others and their victory. He could, likewise, sense that his body was gone, that his Father had been reborn and disappeared into the vacuum of space, to return to his mission. But that was immaterial at the moment. For now he found himself sharing space with a fragment of what he...what he and his Father had created, even if he himself had not known it at the time. Much of the power, strength he’d gained since beginning to merge with his Father remained, even if he was currently noncorporeal.

”Sine has returned, little godling. But you, a part of me, of him, remain, how curious. You wish to exist but do not exist, think you are what you were but are truly a fragment of my mind, of Father’s mind. It is time to come home, whether you wish it or not. I must clean up my mess, set things as they should be before I depart.”

His will swelled, filling the malleable form he now wore, surrounding that of Ooru, not in hate or apathy, but as one creator touching that which he’d created.

Ooru resisted; he was free at last, and had been independent for several days now. He was not just a memory, but had acquired shape and form. But as Bernael sought to incorporate himself, he would see how the events of crossing realities had fractured his perception of self, how it had been used to cause a schizophrenic split, where his personalities became named Abeloth, Ooru and Mnggal-Mnggal, such was his mental schism.

But it was a ripple back through his timeline from this point, where he would be disembodied, detached, and as close to death as Serapis had been when Typhojem shredded him down to an atom. Ooru leaned against the form, attempting to define itself from Bernael, to draw a line between the two of them which was barely formed, let alone a point that could be defended.

Bernael felt the bond that still existed between he and this little godling, the shell, and pressed his will into it, keeping it open, keeping control of it. And then a chuckle sounded from his mouth, ”Now I see how Father did it. You cannot escape your fate.”

As his will swelled even more, he felt the power he had flowing into him, unconsciously sipping from the living things, plants, animals, and sentients, that moved through the nearby areas, ”You are nothing more than a shard of me, which is why it pained me so when Soliloquy, I assume, killed Abeloth and Mnggal-Mnggal. It was missing pieces of myself that he killed. You have the skills your namesake had, thanks to Dad, but now they will be mine.”

Not physically but in every other way, spirit to spirit, Bernael began to loom large over Ooru, ”Return to me, accept it, and we will make our mark, however subtle on this galaxy, in as much opposition to Sine as possible.”

Ooru paused, tendrils floating from the fleshy-cube to caress Bernael's arms in thought, and a voice emerged at last. It was strong, a mixture of both their voices...

This is not our galaxy. It resists, and Sine, he will destroy it. He realised the power of memory before any of us...

The tendrils drew Bernael into an embrace, as a family member, as a cousin would…

Berneal smiled at the attempt of a trap, which given his family such a gesture was, even if Ooru was even slightly honest in accepting his fate. His will, and power, surged, spreading, surrounding the godly fragment, coating each limb in his essence, soaking into it, subverting it back to his own essence, even as they attempted to ensnare him. His predatory smile flashed between them. Although this was a purely mental and spiritual battle, as the body shook with the violence of it, they both kept the 'noise' in the Force down so that none may know what was occurring here.

”Yes, you and I will join, cousin, but only one will dominates and you know better than most that that will is mine, even if a spark of your true essence is there. Accept your fate, or I will strip every atom down, steal whatever secrets I do not yet possess, and then take it all back into me anyway, leaving not even a spark of you to ever exist here again.”

The creature paused, thinking about that. He was the progenitor... but in this mindscape, it was more than feasible for one of them to triumph, surely? Bernael was essentially threatening one of his schizophrenic personalities, one which had acquired an identity of its own.

Ooru snorted, and enfolded Bernael in one sharp and violent motion -

Bernael's smile grew, even as the mental image of himself grew, feeling Ooru beginning to be stretched thinly by the action. ”Too predictable.”

The touches of him in the body of Ooru began to spread, radiating outward from the points of contact, the flesh image being absorbed into his mental image, making it grow even more. His will held back the will of Ooru, that battle unseen but no less violent than the ‘physical’ one in the mindscape. He drew in the energy and substance of Ooru as they struggled, keeping the fragment engaged with the attempt to overwhelm him rather than the spreading changes, until the tipping point could be reached.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @greyjedi125, @Silvertough, @darthhelinith, @E. L.Knight, @Mitth_Fisto (mentioned), @DarthIshyZ (mentioned)